Nothing could exceed his disappointment, save the pity he felt for his minister, whose son he considered rushing blindly into the snares of the Evil One. Nay, so far did he carry his pity as to warn Mr. Fairlie of the dereliction of Hubert. But when that worthy man reproved his uncharitableness, and acknowledged that he could hope for no greater earthly happiness for his son, than to see him the husband of so charming and amiable a girl as Grace Norton, the deacon was perfectly thunderstruck! It was dreadful—what would the world come to! In short almost believing in the apostacy of the minister himself, the deacon went home groaning in spirit, as much perhaps for the frustration of his own schemes, as for the “falling off,” as he termed it of the reverend clergyman! The swift term of vacation expired, and Hubert returned to college. His collegiate course would end with the next term, and then it was his wish to commence the study of the law. Mr. Fairlie was, perhaps, somewhat disappointed that his son did not adopt his own sacred profession; but he was a man of too much sense to force the decision of Hubert or thwart his wishes. He hoped to see him a good man whatever might be his calling; and if ever youth gave promise to make glad the heart of a parent, that youth was Hubert Fairlie. The intercourse between Grace and Naomi from this time almost wholly ceased, much to the regret of both. Yet such were the orders of Deacon Humphreys, whose good-will toward the widow and her daughter was by no means strengthened by the events of the last four weeks. CHAPTER V. _The Practical and Theoretical Christian._ “Why what have you done with Nelly to-day?” asked Mrs. Humphreys, of her washerwoman, who came every Monday morning, regularly attended by a little ragged, half-starved girl of four years old, whose province it was to pick up the clothes-pins, drive the hens off the bleach, and keep the kittens from scalding their frisky tails—receiving for her reward a thin slice of bread and butter, or maybe, if all things went right, and no thunder-squalls brewed, or sudden hurricanes swept over the clothes-fold, a piece of gingerbread or a cookey. “What, I say, have you done with Nelly?” “O, ma’am, she has gone to school—only think of it, my poor little Nelly has gone to _school_! It does seem,” continued Mrs. White, resting her arms on the tub, and holding suspended by her two hands a well-patched shirt of the deacon’s, “it does seem as if the Lord had sent that Mrs. Norton here to be a blessing to the poor!” “Humph!” ejaculated Mrs. Humphreys, spitefully rattling the dishes.