Miss Ellen, rummaging in her pocket for her purse, said: "Yes, my love. Will you take this to my brother?" Just why she followed us as we ran out into the garden with her purse perhaps she hardly knew herself. But as she stood in the doorway, a little uncertain and wondering, Mr. David led the shabby, shrinking lady up to her. "My dear Ellen," he said, "I have a present for you--a _sister_." Then the little, shabby lady stepped forward and threw herself on Miss Ellen's shoulder. "A sister?" Ellen Baily said, bewildered. "We were married this morning in Upper Chester," said Mr. David, "and I have brought her home. Now we shall all be so happy!" V That evening Dr. Lavendar came home. Of course all the real Old Chester was on hand to welcome him. When the stage came creaking up to the tavern steps, the old white head was bare, and the broad-brimmed shabby felt hat was waving tremulously in the air. "Here I am," said Dr. Lavendar, clambering down stiffly from the box-seat. "What mischief have you all been up to?" There was much laughing and hand-shaking, and Dr. Lavendar, blinking very hard, and flourishing his red silk pocket-handkerchief, clapped Mr. Spangler on the shoulder. "Didn't I tell you about 'em? Didn't I tell you they were the best people going? But we mustn't let 'em know it; makes 'em vain," said Dr. Lavendar, with great show of secrecy. "And look here, Sam Wright! You fellows may congratulate yourselves. Spangler here has had a fine business offer made him, haven't you, Mr. Spangler? and it's just your luck that you got him to supply for you before he left this part of the country. A little later he wouldn't have looked at Old Chester. Hey, Spangler?" "Oh, that's settled," Mr. Spangler said. "I declined--" "Oh," said Dr. Lavendar, "have you? Well, I'm sorry for 'em." And Augustus Spangler smiled as heartily as anybody. He had a letter crushed up in his hand; he had read it walking down from the post-office to the tavern, and now he was ready to say that Old Chester was the finest place in the world. He could hardly wait to get Dr. Lavendar to himself in the rectory before telling him his great news and giving him a little three-cornered note from Ellen Baily which had been enclosed in his own letter. "Well, well, _well_," said Dr. Lavendar. He had put on a strange dressing-gown of flowered cashmere and his worsted-work slippers, and made room for his shaggy old Danny in his leather chair, and lighted his pipe. "Now tell us the news!" he said. And was all ready to hear about the Sunday-school teachers, and the choir, and Sam Wright's Protestantism, and many other important things. But not at all:-- "_I'm engaged to be married._"