“But who, think you, I saw, when I lifted my eyes from that dying countenance?”

“I cannot imagine, father.”

“Your uncle.  Yes, indeed! he stood watching the scene with a most intent and singular expression of countenance,” said Father Fabian.

“It is, I believe, one of the first practical fruits of the Catholic faith he ever saw,” said May, quite forgetting her own humble, patient example.

“Probably!” said Father Fabian, smiling; “but tell me now what is it you want.  I have to run away out to the north-western limits of the city.”

“That will suit precisely, dear father.  It is a poor, paralytic old woman, I wish to direct you.  She has determined to become a Catholic, and wishes to see you.  She needs instruction; but her faith is so docile, that I do not think you will hesitate long to grant the ardent desire of her soul, which is, admission into the church of God.”

“And where does our neophyte live?” asked Father Fabian.

“In the first of those small cottages west of Howard’s Woods; but please, Father Fabian, don’t mind any thing she may say about me,” said May, blushing, and looking embarrassed.  “She is so very grateful, that she imagines that I have done a great deal for her, and really makes me ashamed of the trifling amount of good I have extended to her.  Will you give me your blessing, father?”

“I shall certainly go, my dear child—­meanwhile, pray for me,” said Father Fabian, as she rose up from receiving his blessing.

“Will you pray for my uncle’s conversion, father? and, oh!  I had almost forgotten!  My cousin has arrived; shall I bring her to see you soon?” said May, standing at the door.

“Whenever you please to;” and May went away, feeling quite happy.

Mr. Stillinghast had not forgotten May’s refusal to explain the cause of her appearance, the day before, on the wharf; and being determined to discover it, he stopped, on his way down to his counting-house, at the wood-yard office, and inquired “if a young lady had been in there to purchase wood yesterday?”

“Well, sir, I hardly know how to reply to your question;—­but I believe there were several young ladies in here to buy wood yesterday,” said the young man, looking highly amused.

“But there was one who came with old Copeland; she had on a purple merino dress—­and—­something, I don’t know what else she had on,” said Mr. Stillinghast, feeling ridiculous.

“Was she very small, sir, with bright hazel eyes?”

“I know nothing about the color of her eyes, but she’s something higher than my walking stick,” replied the irascible old man.

“The same, sir. She came with Mr. Copeland; and if her eyes didn’t make me dance in and out, it’s a wonder!” observed the clerk.

“Well, what in the deuce did she want here?”

“She bought a quarter of a cord of oak wood, and paid for it!”