"Really, Mrs. Travilla, you make out a strong case against him," remarked her interlocutor, after a moment's thoughtful silence, "and upon reflection I believe a true one. I am surprised at myself that I have listened with so little realization of the important defects in his system of theology. I was not ardently in favor of calling him before; now I am decidedly opposed to it." He was about to take leave, but, the two Mr. Dinsmores coming in at that moment, resumed his seat, and the subject was reopened. They soon learned that they were all of substantially the same opinion in regard to it. In the course of the conversation some account was given Mr. Embury of the Sunday evening Bible study at Viamede. He seemed much interested, and at length asked if he might be permitted to join them occasionally. "My boys are away at school," he said, "my two little girls go early to bed, and my evenings are often lonely--since my dear Mary left me, now two years ago," he added with a sigh. "May I come, Mrs. Travilla?" "Yes," she said, reading approval in the eyes of her father and grandfather, while her own tender heart sympathized with the bereaved husband, though at the same time her sensitive nature shrank from the invasion of their family circle by a stranger. He read it all in her speaking countenance, but could not deny himself the anticipated pleasure of making the acquaintance of so lovely a family group--to say nothing of the intellectual or spiritual profit to be expected from sharing in their searching of the scriptures. Mr. Embury was a man of liberal education and much general information--one who read and thought a good deal and talked well. The conversation turned upon literature, and Mr. Dinsmore presently carried him off to the library to show him some valuable books recently purchased by himself and his daughter. They were still there when the tea-bell rang, and being hospitably urged to remain and partake of the meal with the family, Mr. Embury accepted the invitation with unfeigned pleasure. All were present even down to little Walter, and not excepting poor Molly. Her apartments at Viamede being on the same floor with dining-room, library and parlors, she joined the family gatherings almost as frequently as any one else--indeed whenever she preferred the society of her relatives to the seclusion of her own room. Mr. Embury had occasionally seen her at church. Her bright, intellectual face and crippled condition had excited his interest and curiosity, and in one way and another he had learned her story. Truth to tell, one thing that had brought him to Viamede was the desire to make her acquaintance--though Molly and the rest were far from suspecting it at the time.