“Oh, it was no offence to send for your kettle,” Mrs. Tompkins replied, smiling.  “That was all right and proper.  I was only a little vexed at your Hannah’s impudence.  But, Aunt Mary, ’let has-beens be has-beens.’  I am sorry that there has occurred the least bit of coolness between us.”

Aunt Mary’s heart bounded as lightly as if a hundred-pound weight had been taken from it; she was made happy on the instant.

“You don’t know how glad I am to hear you say so, Mrs. Tompkins,” she said, earnestly.  “It has removed a load from my heart.  Hereafter, I hope nothing will occur again to disturb our friendly feelings.  You may have the kettle again, in a day or two, in welcome, and keep it as long as you please.”

The breach was thus easily healed; and had Aunt Mary gone over on Saturday to see Mrs. Tompkins, she would have saved herself a world of trouble.

Still, nothing of this was known to the other members of the church, who were as full of conjecture as ever, touching the singular conduct, as they called it, of Aunt Mary.  The minister said nothing, and Mrs. Tompkins, of course, said nothing; and no one ventured to question Aunt Mary.

On the next Sabbath, Aunt Mary came to church as usual, and all eyes were instantly upon her.

Some thought she still looked troubled, and was paler than before, while others perceived that she was really more cheerful.  In due time, the minister arose and announced his text: 

“Give to him that asketh, and of him that would borrow of thee, turn thou not away.”

“My dear friends,” said he, on drawing near to the close of his subject, “the text teaches us, besides that of simple alms-giving, the duty of lending; but you will observe, it says not a word about borrowing.  Under the law laid down here, we may lend as much as we please, but it gives no license to borrow.  Now, as far as I have been able to learn, a number of my congregation have not been very particular on this point.  They seem to think that it is helping their neighbours to keep this injunction to lend, by compelling an obedience to the precept, whether they are inclined to obey or not.  Now, this is wrong.  We are justified in lending to those who need such kind offices, but not to put others to the inconvenience of lending when we are fully able to supply our own wants.  This is going beyond the scope of the Divine injunction, and I hold it to be morally wrong to do so.  Some of you, I am credibly informed,” and his voice fell to a low, distinct, and solemn tone, “are in the habit of regularly borrowing Aunt Mary’s preserving kettle—­(here Aunt Mary looked up with a bewildered air, while her face coloured deeply, and the whole congregation stared in amazement; but the minister went calmly on)—­and this, too, without regard to her convenience.  Nor is this all—­the kettle is hardly ever returned in a good condition.  How thoughtless! how wrong!  In this, Aunt Mary alone has been faithful to the precept in my text, while you have departed widely from its true spirit.  Let me hope that you will think better of this matter, and wisely resolve to let your past short-comings suffice.”