“But there is something beside for us to do surely? we must live right.”

“Yes, true faith will bring forth the fruits of holy living; but good works are the proofs and effects of our faith, not the ground of the true Christian’s hope; having nothing whatever to do with our justification.”

The entrance of Arthur and young Horace put an end to the conversation.

Horace was not less devoted to his elder sister now than in childhood’s days; Arthur, distant and reserved with most people, had of late learned to be very frank and open with her, sure of an attentive hearing, of sympathy, and that his confidence would never be betrayed.

She never sneered, never laughed in contempt, nor ever seemed to think herself better or wiser, than others.  Her advice, when asked, was given with sweet simplicity and humility, as of one not qualified, in her own estimation, to teach, or desirous to usurp authority over others:  yet she had a clear intellect and sound judgment, she opened her mouth with wisdom and in her tongue was the law of kindness.  There seemed a sort of magnetism about her, the attraction of a loving, sympathetic nature, that always drew to her the young of both sexes, and the large majority of older people also.

The three young men gathered round her, hanging upon her sweet looks, her words, her smiles, as ardent lovers do upon those of their mistress.

Somehow the conversation presently turned upon love and marriage, and she lectured them, half-playfully, half seriously, upon the duties of husbands.

She bade them be careful in their choice, remembering that it was for life, and looking for worth rather than beauty or wealth; then after marriage not to be afraid of spoiling the wife with too much care and thoughtfulness for her comfort, and happiness, or the keeping up of the little attentions so pleasant to give and receive, and so lavishly bestowed in the days of courtship.

“Ah, Elsie, you are thinking of your own husband, and holding him up as a model to us,” said Horace laughingly.

“Yes,” she answered, with a blush and smile, a tender light shining in the soft brown eyes, “that is true.  Ah, the world would be full of happy wives if all the husbands would copy his example!  He is as much a lover now as the day he asked me to be his wife; more indeed, for we grow dearer and dearer to each other as the years roll on.  Never a day passes that he does not tell me of his love by word and deed, and the story is as sweet to me now, as when first I heard it.”

“Ah, good wives make good husbands,” said Mr. Travilla, who had entered unobserved, just in time to hear the eulogy upon him.  “Boys, let each of you get a wife like mine, and you can not fail to be good husbands.”

“Good husbands make good wives,” she retorted, looking up into his face with a fond smile as he came to her side.

“The trouble is to find such,” remarked Horace, regarding his sister with tender admiration.