valley, and--river?" As he said "river" he closed his eyes impressively, and stood there among them the image of self-complacence. The wind blew out his black coat, and showed how thin it was, and the wearer as well. [Illustration: "HE TOOK HIS BEST COAT FROM HIS LEAN VALISE."] "Why is it always a thin, weakly man like that who insists upon calling people 'brethren'?" said Heathcote, as they stood a little apart. "Because, being weakly, we can not knock him down for it, as we certainly should do if he was stronger," said Dexter. But it was especially at lunch that the Reverend Ezra shone forth; rising to the occasion, he brought forth all the gallant speeches of his youth, which had much the air of his grandfather's Green Mountain musket. Some of his phrases Anne recognized: Miss Lois used them. The young girl was pained to see how out of place he was, how absurd in his well-intentioned efforts; and she therefore drew him a little apart, and strove to entertain him herself. She had known plain people on the island, and had experienced much of their faithful goodness and generosity in times of trouble; it hurt her to have him ridiculed. It came out, during this conversation, that he knew something of botany, and on the strength of this passport she took him to Miss Vanhorn. The Reverend Ezra really did understand the flora of the district, through which he had journeyed many times in former years on his old mare; Miss Vanhorn's sharp questions brought out what he knew, and gave him also the grateful sensation of imparting valuable information. He now appeared quite collected and sensible. He mentioned, after a while, that an orchid grew in these very woods at some distance up the mountain--an orchid which was rare. Miss Vanhorn had never seen that particular orchid in its wild state; a flush rose in her cheek. "We can drive out to-morrow and look for it, grandaunt," said Anne. "No," replied Miss Vanhorn, firmly; "that orchid must be found to-day, while Mr.--Mr.--" "Sloane," said the minister, affably. "--while Mr. Stone is with you to point out the exact locality. I desire you to go with him immediately, Anne; _this_ is a matter of importance." "It is about two miles up the mountain," objected the missionary, loath to leave the festival. "Anne is not afraid of two short miles," replied the old woman, inflexibly. "And as for yourself, Mr. Doane, no doubt you will be glad to abandon this scene of idle frivolity." And then the Reverend Ezra, a little startled by this view of the case, yielded, and sought his hat and cane.