“Take it rather as a caution than as blame,” said Uncle Geoffrey. A long silence ensued, during which Henrietta thought deeply on the new idea opened to her. Her vision, for it could not be called her memory of her father, had in fact been too highly enshrined in her mind, too much worshipped, she had deemed this devotion a virtue, and fostered as it was by the solitude of her life, and the temper of her mother’s mind, the truth was as Uncle Geoffrey had hinted, and she began to perceive it, but still it was most unwillingly, for the thought was cherished so as to be almost part of herself. Uncle Geoffrey’s manner was so kind that she could not be vexed with him, but she was disappointed, for she had hoped for a narration of some part of her father’s history, and for the indulgence of that soft sorrow which has in it little pain. Instead of this she was bidden to quit her beloved world, to soar above it, or to seek for a duty which she had rather not believe that she had neglected, though--no, she did not like to look deeper. Mr. Geoffrey Langford gave her time for thought, though of what nature it might be, he could not guess, and then said, “One thing more before we leave this place. Whether Fred cheerfully obeys the fifth commandment in its full extent, may often, as I believe, depend on your influence. Will you try to exert it in the right way?” “You mean when he wishes to do things like other boys of his age,” said Henrietta. “Yes. Think yourself, and lead him to think, that obedience is better than what he fancies manliness. Teach him to give up pleasure for the sake of obedience, and you will do your work as a sister and daughter.” While Uncle Geoffrey was speaking, Beatrice’s operations with the holly had brought her a good deal nearer to them, and at the same time the church door opened, and a gentleman entered, whom the first glance showed Henrietta to be Mr. Franklin, the clergyman of the parish, of whom she had heard so much. He advanced on seeing Beatrice with the holly in her hand. “Miss Langford! This is just what I was wishing.” “I was just helping old Martha,” said Beatrice; “we came in to show my cousin the church, and--” By this time the others had advanced. “How well the church looks this dark afternoon,” said Uncle Geoffrey, speaking in a low tone, “it is quite the moment to choose for seeing it for the first time. But you are very early in beginning your adornments.” “I thought if I had the evergreens here in time, I might see a little to the arrangement myself,” said Mr. Franklin, “but I am afraid I know very little about the matter. Miss Langford, I wish you would assist us with your taste.” Beatrice and Henrietta looked at each other, and their eyes sparkled with delight. “I should like it exceedingly,” said the former; “I was just thinking what capabilities there are. And Henrietta will do it beautifully.” “Then will you really be kind enough to come to-morrow, and see what can be done?”