A long silence ensued, broken at length by the entrance of Mrs. Carlton's two children, who carried a large basket between them. Hastily they set it down, on seeing Mary, and sprung to her side: the little girl clung around her neck, and kissed her repeatedly. "Maria, you are too boisterous, my little girl; Miss Mary will have no cause to doubt your affection. Elliot, why do you not speak to Miss Florence, my son?" Blushing at his oversight, the boy obeyed, and, joined by his sister, stood at his mother's side. Maria whispered something in his ear, but he only shook his head and replied, "Not now, sister, let us wait." She hesitated a moment, then laid her little hand on Mrs. Carlton's shoulder. "Mother, I know you said it was rude to whisper in company, but I want to tell you something very much." Mrs. Carlton smiled. "I am sure the young ladies will excuse you, my daughter, if it is important." She bent her head, and a prolonged whispering followed. A flush rose to the mother's cheek and a tear to her eyes, as she clasped her to her heart, and said, "I wish you, my children, to speak out, and tell all you know of this affair." Elliot was spokesman. "We went into the garden as you desired us, mother, and Erasmo and I picked the peas, while sister held the basket; presently we heard a noise in the brush fence like something coming through, and sister got frightened (here he laughed), and wanted to run to the house, but we told her it was only a sheep or dog outside; but it turned out to be the Padre, and he came and helped us to pick. Mother, he told us such pretty stories; I can't think of the names; they must have been Dutch, they were so long and hard. But I remember one of the tales; he said there was once a good man who lived in Asia, and one day he lost his crucifix; he looked everywhere for it, but could not find it; and a long time afterward, he happened to be walking by the sea-shore and looked out on the water, and oh, what do you think! He saw his crucifix moving on the water, and a great crab paddled out to land and laid his crucifix down before him, and then paddled right back into the sea again. Now wasn't that funny. I can't think of the good man's name, Saint--Somebody--Saint--Saint--" "Brother, I reckon it was Saint Crab!" "No, no! It was the crab that found the crucifix, and I think he was smarter than the saint." "Now, Florry, should I repeat this legend to Aunt Lizzy, it would be impossible to convince her that it proceeded from the Padre's lips. Yet even prelates of Rome scruple not to narrate as miracles tales equally absurd, where their auditory is sufficiently ignorant to credit them. Pardon my interruption, Elliot, and finish your story," continued Mary.