"No, I'm not," cried Miss Ellen, coming out of her reveries. "Only yesterday I heard some one say that you were very fine-looking." "Who said it?" "Never mind," Ellen said, gayly. "Do tell me, sister," he entreated; "that's a good girl." "It was somebody whose opinion you care a great deal about." "I think you might tell me," said Mr. David, aggrieved. "Not that I care, because it isn't true, and was only said to please you. People know how to get round you, Ellen. But I'd just like to know." "Guess," said Miss Ellen. "Well, was it--Mrs. Smily?" "Oh, dear, no! It was somebody very important in Old Chester. It was Mrs. Barkley." "Oh," said Mr. David. "A compliment from her means so much, you know," Miss Ellen reminded him. David was silent. "But all the same," Ellen said, "you do need a coat, dear brother. I'm afraid I've been selfish not to notice it." Mr. David made no reply. Miss Ellen beamed at him. "You always look well, in my eyes: but it pleases me to have you well dressed, too." "Well, then, to please you, I'll dress up," said Mr. David, earnestly. IV "Does not Mr. Baily take any part whatever in his sister's work?" Mr. Spangler said. He was calling upon Mrs. Barkley, and the conversation turned upon the guests whom he had met at the tea-party. "That is a very foolish question," said Mrs. Barkley; "but of course you don't know poor David, or you wouldn't have asked it. David means well, but he has no mind. Still, he has tried, poor fellow." Then she recited the story of David's failures. "There is really nothing that he is capable of doing," she ended, thoughtfully; "though I think, if his eyes hadn't given out, he might have made a good minister. For David is a pious man, and he likes to visit." A faint red came into Mr. Spangler's cheeks; although he had been in Old Chester nearly a month, he had not yet become acclimated to Mrs. Barkley. The watchword of duty made him call, but he closed her front door behind him with an emphasis which was not dutiful. "That's done!" he said; and thought to himself how much pleasanter than parochial visits were educational matters. Mr. Spangler felt their importance so deeply that he spent two more mornings watching Miss Ellen's pupils work out examples on the blackboard and hearing them read, turn about, in the Fourth Reader. In fact, the next month was a pretty happy time for Miss Ellen's girls. "I skipped to the bottom of the page in 'Catiline's Reply,'" Lydia Wright said, giggling, "and she never knew it!"