“And knowing us all so well, what do you think of Joppa as a whole?” asked Phebe, curiously.  “You always say it is too soon to judge, but surely you must really know by this time.”

He did not answer for a moment, then turned to her very seriously.  “I think,” he said slowly, “it is a place that needs a much older, a much better, and a much wiser man than I am to be among its leaders in any sense.  It is not at all what I thought it would be when I accepted the trust.  It is beyond me.  But since the Bishop sent me here, I mean to stay and do my best.”

“How will you begin?”

“I will begin with you,” he answered, lightly, with a smile that lit up all his face, the moment’s seriousness quite gone.  “You were my first friend, and I ought to take you first in hand, ought I not?  I am going to do you a great deal of good.”

“How?”

“I’m going to teach you to love books.”

“You can’t.”

“Yes, I can.  You don’t know books, that is all.  I intend to introduce you to each other.  I have some so interesting you can’t help liking them, and you’ll find yourself crying for more before you know it.  I am going to bring them over to you.  You shall have something better to do than fill up all your mornings with promoting stockings of exasperating colors, and listening to tales of Sabbath-breakers.  Just wait and see.  I am going to metamorphose you.”

“Oh, I wish you would!” sighed Phebe, clasping her hands and speaking so earnestly that he looked at her in surprise.  “I am so sick of myself.  I do want to be something better than I am.  I am so dreadfully common-place.  I amount to so little.  I know so little.  I can do so little.  And there is no one here who cares to help me to any thing better.  I don’t know enough even to know how to improve myself.  But I do want to.  Will you help me, Mr. Halloway?  Will you really help me?” She positively had tears shining in her eyes.

Mr. Halloway leaned forward and gently took her hand.  “Am I not here for that?” he asked.  “Here purposely to help you and all who need me in any way?  Will it not be my greatest pleasure to do so, as well as my best and truest work?  You may be sure, Miss Phebe, I will do all I can for you, with God’s help.”

“Rather damp for you to be sitting there without a shawl, isn’t it, my child?”

It was only Mrs. Anthony’s friendly voice, as that lady passed hurriedly by, intent on hospitable duties, but Phebe started guiltily.  What right had she to be out here with Mr. Halloway, keeping him from the other girls, when she ought, of course, to be in the parlors seeing that the old ladies got their ice-cream safely?  “I’ll go right in,” she said, rising hastily; but Mr. Halloway drew her hand through his arm to detain her.

“Why?  Because it is damp?”

“No; because I ought not to be selfish, ought to go back and help.”

“Ah,” said he, “I am getting new lights every moment.  Then you don’t go to parties just to enjoy yourself?”