"You are very good to come again so soon, Mr. Drummond," she said, as she gave him her hand. The words were civil, but a slight inflection on the word "soon" made Mr. Drummond feel a little uncomfortable. Did she think he called too often? He wished he had brought Mattie; only last time she had been so satirical, and had quizzed the poor little thing unmercifully; not that Mattie had found out that she was being quizzed. "I hardly thought I should find you at home, it is so fine an afternoon; but I made the attempt, you see," he continued, a little awkwardly. "Your parochial conscience was uneasy, I suppose, because I was missing at church?" she returned, somewhat slyly. "You would make a capital overseer, Mr. Drummond,"--with a short laugh. "A headache is a good excuse, is it not? I had a headache, had I not, Miss Mewlstone?" "Yes, my dear, just so," returned Miss Mewlstone. She always called her patroness "my dear." "Miss Mewlstone gave me the heads of the sermon, so it was not quite labor lost, as regards one of your flock. I am afraid you think me a black sheep because I stay away so often,--a very black sheep, eh, Mr. Drummond?" "It is not for me to judge," he said, still more awkwardly. "Headaches are very fair excuses; and if one be not blessed with good health----" "My health is perfect," she returned, interrupting him ruthlessly. "I have no such convenient plea under which to shelter myself. Miss Mewlstone suffers far more from headaches than I do. Don't you, Miss Mewlstone?" "Just so; yes, indeed, my dear," proceeded softly from the other end of the room. "I am sorry to hear it," commenced Mr. Drummond, in a sympathizing tone of voice. But his tormentor again interrupted him. "I am a sad backslider, am I not? I wonder if you have a sermon ready for me? Do you lecture your parishioners, Mr. Drummond, rich as well as poor? What a pity it is you are so young! Lectures are more suitable with gray hair; a hoary head might have some chance against my satire. A woman's tongue is a difficult thing to keep in order, is it not? I dare say you find that with Miss Mattie?" Mr. Drummond was literally on thorns. He had no repartee ready. She was secretly exasperating him as usual, making his youth a reproach, and rendering it impossible for him to be his natural frank self with her. In her presence he was always at a disadvantage. She seemed to take stock of his learning and to mock at the idea of his pastoral claims. It was not the first time she had called herself a black sheep, or had spoken of her scanty attendances at church. But as yet he had not dared to rebuke her; he had a feeling that she might fling back his rebuke with a jest, and his dignity forbade this. Some day he owed it to his conscience to speak a word to her,--to tell her of the evil effects of such an example; but the convenient season had not yet arrived.