"Yes, yes, and I will not believe anything against Him; you will teach me more things, Justin. Will you tell me why some of those good people were so bad?" "Ah, the deficiencies of the saints," he muttered. "Discrepancy most puzzling to human minds. Yes, I will teach you, little one, and you, too, will teach me many things. I am not the perfect being you think me. I, too, wish to improve, to become more compassionate, more tender, more like our Great Pattern. But what a load is off my heart. Your feet are on the everlasting rock, my Master will be your Master." "Is this your rock?" she asked, laying her hand on the Bible. "Yes,--the rock of our forefathers, the foundation on which the prosperity of New England is built, the rock scorned by unbelievers." "It is a good rock," she said, seriously. "I have heard of the forefathers of New England. I have married one of their sons. I choose his faith." Justin, overcome and subdued by the unutterable joy that had come upon him, rushed to his own room. He did not wish to break down before her. Later, he went down-stairs, and carried to the morning devotions, through the breakfast hour, and to his place of business, a face that was absolutely radiant. He was walking on air. A holy calm brooded over him, and in his manner was such an exquisite and gentle sympathy that even those men who had the briefest business transactions with him went away with a feeling of refreshment, and a frequently expressed opinion that young Mercer was growing more like his father every day. CHAPTER XIII. A DINNER-PARTY. A week later Miss Gastonguay was giving a dinner-party. She had begged the favour of Mr. and Mrs. Mercer's company, and Derrice at the present moment was standing before her husband's wardrobe. "Don't you have an evening suit, Justin?" "No, little girl." "You must get one," and she surveyed his light trousers and black frock coat. "Do I look badly?" he asked, in some anxiety. "No, you are very manly and good-looking, and your feet are well-shaped, though the soles of your boots are a trifle thick, but I shall have to change my gown." "That overpowering creation," and he stared admiringly at her cream satin dress,--a triumph of some foreign dressmaker's art. "Yes; we are too strong a contrast. I shall not be long." "I am sorry to give you this trouble, Derrice." "It is not a trouble. I am satisfied since you have seen how grand I am," and laughing gaily, she caught up her train and ran away from him. Justin in the utmost satisfaction descended to the hall and put on his overcoat. Derrice was becoming more and more in love with him every day. He certainly was a very happy man, and in beatific silence he gazed at his mother, who was standing in the dining-room doorway, divided between gratification at his invitation to French Cross and annoyance that she should not be included in it.