"A peaceful place to live in; don’t you think so?" said her friend. "Oh yes!" said the child, clasping her hands earnestly; "a quiet, happy place." "A place to live and gather health of mind and body in," said the schoolmaster; "and this old house is yours." "Ours!" cried the child. "Ay," said the schoolmaster gaily, "for many a merry year to come, I hope. I shall be a close neighbour—only next door; but this house is yours." Having now told his great news, the schoolmaster sat down, and drawing Nell to his side, told her how he had learned that that house had been occupied for a very long time by an old person, who kept the keys of the church, opened and closed it for the services, and showed it to strangers; how she had died not many weeks ago, and nobody had yet been found to fill the office; how, learning all this, he had been bold enough to mention his friends to the clergyman. In a word, the result was that Nell and her grandfather were to go before the last-named gentleman next day, and if they pleased him they were to be given the charge of the church. "There’s a small allowance of money," said the schoolmaster. "It is not much, but still enough to live upon. By clubbing our funds together we shall do well; no fear of that." "Heaven bless you!" sobbed the child. "Amen, my dear," returned her friend cheerfully; "and all of us, as it will, and has, in leading us through sorrow and trouble to this peaceful life. But we must look at my house now. Come!" They went to the other door, tried the rusty keys as before, and at length found the right one. Like the first house, it held such pieces of furniture as were needful, and had its stack of firewood. To make these houses as tidy and comfortable as they could was now their pleasant care. In a short time each had its cheerful fire glowing and crackling on the hearth. Nell, busily plying her needle, mended the torn window-hangings, drew together the rents which time had worn in the scraps of carpet, and made them whole and decent. The schoolmaster swept and smoothed the ground before the door, trimmed the long grass, trained the ivy and creeping plants, and gave to the outer walls a cheery air of home. The old man, sometimes by his side and sometimes with the child, lent his aid to both, went here and there on little, useful services, and was happy. Neighbours, too, as they came from work, offered their help or sent their children with such small presents or loans as the strangers needed most. It was a busy day, and night came on and found them wondering that there was yet so much to do, and that it should be dark so soon.