“Alick, my boy,” said his mother gravely, “you mustn’t talk so thoughtlessly.  What would your uncle say?”

“He’d say it was a pity so good a mother hadn’t a better son.  But never mind, mother dear, you’ll see I’ll come all right yet.  As for these strawberries, Lucy, I vote we have a strawberry picnic, and give Stella a taste of real country life.  They’ll give us cream at the farm, and the Fords would join us.”

Stella looked a little of the surprise she felt at the idea of the farmer’s children being added to the party, but she did not venture to say anything, as Alick was by no means sparing in bringing his powers of raillery to bear on what he called her “town airs and graces.”

“Well, you needn’t make all the arrangements to-night,” interposed Mrs. Steele; “you know your uncle doesn’t like Sunday planning of amusements.”

And just then Mr. Raymond entered the room, his grave, quiet face, solemnized by the thoughts with which he had been engrossed, exercising an unconsciously subduing influence over the lively juniors.  Mr. Raymond never frowned upon innocent joyousness, and even the boisterous little Harry was never afraid of his father; yet there was about him a certain realization of the great truths he preached, which checked any approach to levity in his presence, and impressed even the most thoughtless; although, not tracing it to its real source, they generally set it down simply to his “being a clergyman.”  His children looked up to him with devoted affection and deep reverence; even Stella could not help feeling that her uncle must be a very good man; and to Alick, who under all his nonsense had a strong appreciation of practical religion, he was the embodiment of Christian excellence.

“Well, Stella,” said her uncle, turning kindly to his niece, “I hope you had a pleasant afternoon.  I suppose our little Sunday school looks very small after the great city ones.”

“We never go to Sunday school at home, uncle,” said Stella, with one of her winning smiles; “there are so many common children.”

“Oh, indeed!” exclaimed Alick, seizing the opportunity of putting down Stella’s airs.  “Why don’t you get up a select one, then, attended only by young ladies of the best families?”

Stella coloured at the sarcastic tone, but Mr. Raymond only said kindly, “Did you ever think, my dear child, how many of these poor common children, as you call them, you will have to meet in heaven?”

It was certainly a new idea to Stella, and made her feel rather uncomfortable; indeed she never cared much to think about heaven, of which her ideas were the vaguest possible.

As they went to evening service, Alick did not omit to rally Stella on her want of candour in leaving her uncle under the impression that she had been at Sunday school that afternoon.

“Why, Alick!” she exclaimed in surprise, “I didn’t say I had been at Sunday school.  If Uncle Raymond supposed so, it wasn’t my fault.”