her head.  Tom blushed and laughed, Aunt Hepsy looked so intensely comical.  Then she became very red in the face, and opening her hymn-book, kept her eyes on its pages till Mr. Goldthwaite came in.  His eyes travelled straight to the Strongs’ pew, and Lucy thought she saw a kindly gleam of recognition in his eyes.  Carrie was at the harmonium.  She, too, looked once or twice in their direction; and both children found her face so sweet and pleasant that they could not lift their eyes off it.  The chapel was full, and the singing of the hymn was so hearty and so sweet, that Lucy felt her eyes dim, she could not tell why.  But it seemed to remind her of her mother.

Mr. Goldthwaite preached only half an hour; but his sermon was so beautiful and comforting, and so easily understood, that Lucy thought Sunday would recompense her for all the troubles of the week.  Tom’s eyes never left Mr. Goldthwaite’s earnest face, and I believe that the memory of his words remained with the boy for weeks after.  He had never heard a sermon in his life he had understood and felt like this one.  Uncle Josh snored rather noisily in the corner, and Aunt Hepsy nodded occasionally over her Bible—­the minister’s message did not even reach their ears.

When the service was over and they reached the church porch, they found Miss Goldthwaite standing there.  She had a nod and a smile for every one, but her particular mission was with Tom and Lucy.  She shook hands with the uncle and aunt, and then bent her sweet eyes on the children’s faces.

“These be Hetty’s children, Miss Goldthwaite,” said Miss Hepsy.  “Lucy and Tom.”

“Yes, I know,” nodded Miss Goldthwaite.  “I came round to see them.  I want them to take tea with me to-day, at my brother’s special request.”

Miss Hepsy did not look at all delighted.  “They’ll jes’ bother ye, Miss Goldthwaite,” said she; “an’ besides, ‘taint no use visitin’ on Sundays—­I don’t like it.”

“It’s hardly visiting, Miss Hepsy,” said the young lady in the same pleasant voice.  “And when they are at Pendlepoint you may as well let them.  We will bring them safely home.  Come now, Miss Hepsy, you know nobody ever refuses me anything.”

“Let them bide, Hepsy,” said Uncle Josh, remembering what trouble and expense the minister had spared him, and not wishing to appear so unmindful of it.  “I guess they won’t come to no harm at the parson’s.”

So Miss Hepsy was forced to grant a reluctant consent, and Miss Carrie bore off the happy children in triumph.  At the parsonage gate Mr. Goldthwaite joined them, and gave them both a hearty welcome.  Even shy Lucy was at her ease immediately with Miss Carrie; for who could resist that bright, caressing manner, and those beaming, loving eyes?  She carried Lucy off to her own pretty room to take off her hat, and kept her there talking and showing her the beautiful view from the window till Mr. Goldthwaite had to call