case of confluent sectarianism, as they supposed, the good old minister had been so well vaccinated with charitable virus that he was now a true, open-souled Christian of the mildest type.  The end of all which was, that the liberal people went over to the old minister almost in a body, just at the time that Deacon Shearer and the “Vinegar-Bible” party split off, and that not long afterwards they sold their own meeting-house to the malecontents, so that Deacon Soper used often to remind Colonel Sprowle of his wish that “our little man and him [the Reverend Doctor] would swop pulpits,” and tell him it had “pooty nigh come trew.”—­But this is anticipating the course of events, which were much longer in coming about; for we have but just got through that terribly long month, as Mr. Dudley Venner found it, of December.

On the first of January, Mr. Silas Peckham was in the habit of settling his quarterly accounts, and making such new arrangements as his convenience or interest dictated.  New-Year was a holiday at the Institute.  No doubt this accounted for Helen’s being dressed so charmingly,—­always, to be sure, in her own simple way, but yet with such a true lady’s air that she looked fit to be the mistress of any mansion in the land.

She was in the parlor alone, a little before noon, when Mr. Peckham came in.

“I’m ready to settle my account with you now, Miss Darley,” said Silas.

“As you please, Mr. Peckham,” Helen answered, very graciously.

“Before payin’ you your selary,” the Principal continued, “I wish to come to an understandin’ as to the futur’.  I consider that I’ve been payin’ high, very high, for the work you do.  Women’s wages can’t be expected to do more than feed and clothe ’em, as a gineral thing, with a little savin’, in case of sickness, and to bury ’em, if they break daown, as all of ’em are liable to do at any time.  If I a’n’t misinformed, you not only support yourself out of my establishment, but likewise relatives of yours, who I don’t know that I’m called upon to feed and clothe.  There is a young woman, not burdened with destitoot relatives, has signified that she would be glad to take your dooties for less pecooniary compensation, by a consid’able amaount, than you now receive.  I shall be willin’, however, to retain your services at sech redooced rate as we shall fix upon,—­provided sech redooced rate be as low or lower than the same services can be obtained elsewhere.”

“As you please, Mr. Peckham,” Helen answered, with a smile so sweet that the Principal (who of course had trumped up this opposition-teacher for the occasion) said to himself she would stand being cut down a quarter, perhaps a half, of her salary.

“Here is your accaount, Miss Darley, and the balance doo you,” said Silas Peckham, handing her a paper and a small roll of infectious-flavored bills wrapping six poisonous coppers of the old coinage.

She took the paper and began looking at it.  She could not quite make up her mind to touch the feverish bills with the cankering copper in them, and left them airing themselves on the table.