Minnie had no taste for being hectored or lectured; but it seemed to her that what the cobbler and tinker said, was more important than the fact that it was they who said it. She thought, and pondered, and wondered about the Methodist preacher, and about her chance of ever seeing or hearing more of him, until a thought darted into her mind like an arrow. Little Rhoda! She was a Methodist born and bred, and knew this preacher, and----Minnie would send for little Rhoda. When she announced this resolution to her mother, Mrs. Bodkin found several difficulties in the way of its fulfilment. "What do you want with her, Minnie?" "I want to see her. Mrs. Errington talks so much of her. I remember her coming here with a message once, when she was a child. I recollect only a little fair face and shy eyes, under a coal-scuttle straw bonnet. Don't you, mamma? And I want to talk to her about several things," added Minnie, with resolute truthfulness. "Oh, dear me! What will your papa say?" "I don't see how papa can object to my asking this nice little thing to come to me for an afternoon, when he doesn't mind your boring yourself to death with Goody Barton, whose snuff-taking would try the nerves of a rhinoceros, nor forbid my inviting the little Jobsons, who are unpleasant to look upon, and stupid beyond the wildest flights of imagination. He lets me have any one I like." "Yes; but you teach the little Jobsons the alphabet, my dear. And that is a charitable work." "And Rhoda will amuse me, and I'm sure that is a charitable work!" Minnie would get her own way, of course. She always did. That same evening Minnie said to her father, with her frank, bright smile, "Papa, may I not ask Rhoda Maxfield to take tea with me some afternoon?" "Rhoda what?" "Little Maxfield, the grocer's daughter, papa," said Minnie, boldly. Mrs. Bodkin bent nervously over her knitting. "What on earth for? Why do you want to associate with such folks? Have you not plenty of friends without----?" "No, papa. But I don't ask her because I'm in want of friends." "Oh, Minnie," said Mrs. Bodkin in the quick, low tones she habitually spoke in, "I'm sure nobody has more friends than you have! Everybody is so glad to come to you, always." "You're my friend, mamma. And papa is my friend. Never mind the rest. I want to have little Maxfield to tea." Minnie laughed at herself, the moment after she had said the words, in the tone of a spoiled child. Dr. Bodkin crossed and uncrossed his legs, kicked a footstool out of the way, and then got up and stood before the fire. "If you want amusement, isn't there Miss Chubb or the McDougalls, or--or plenty more?" said he, shooting out his upper lip, and frowning uneasily.