"I am sorry, sir, that I could not serve you better, but under the circumstances I did as well as I knew how. But I am forgetting my errand to you. I charged you too much for the gloves, and Mrs. Falkner trusted me with the change to be returned, which I now make over to you"; passing twenty-five cents in silver across the table. "I shall take an early opportunity to show my appreciation of Mrs. Falkner's fair dealing," responded Mr. Angus, smiling, as he put the silver in his pocket. But with an instant change in his tone, "Who is this Mary Falkner? Does she belong to my charge?" "Yes, sir; she is a poor cripple; so patient and cheerful, that it is a lesson to see her. It almost brings tears to my eyes to hear her talk of God's mercy to her, and how He inclines the hearts of people to supply her wants. Why, even the coming of customers to the store for a few pennies' worth of thread is a subject for thankfulness." "She is, indeed, to be envied. I regret that I have not seen her. Such calls are needed by a pastor for his own good." Marion's beaming face bore witness to her approbation of this sentiment, as she remarked,— "There is no place in the parish where a visit from you would be more prized than in poor Mary's chamber." Dear little Ethel, how hard it was for her, during the few days of Marion's visit, to divide her favors equally between her two friends. By this time the friendship between her and her pastor had become very close. In a small locker under his bookcase were some of her choicest toys, brought hither from time to time; and with these she would amuse herself so quietly that he almost forgot her presence. During his study hours he often rose from his books and paced the floor while he arranged the topics of his sermons. One glance showed her he was busy, and she scarcely moved. Sometimes he seated himself in a large chair for the same purpose, when the little one, watching every movement, obeyed the motion of his hand, and with her favorite dolly in her arms, silently crept to his lap, sitting so quiet that she often fell asleep. Once her father, coming unexpectedly from his office to the house, inquired for her, and was told she was with Mr. Angus in his study. The child heard his voice, and putting her little fat hand on her mouth to keep herself quiet, went softly from the room. "I'm afraid you will disturb Mr. Angus," her father said. "What do you do in there?" "I keep stiller than a mouse, 'cause they nibble cheese and I don't, and I make sermons with Mr. Angus." "Make sermons, eh?" laughing; "well, you'd better come with me and make the horse go." Now if she obeyed Marion's invitation for a walk with her, she watched anxiously for any marks of disapprobation from her other friend, nor was she quite satisfied until she had made it clear to him that she loved him just the same, but that her Marion was only going to be with her a little while, and would feel badly if she did not go for a walk.