"You told me you was a Methodist," she said reproachfully; "but either you lied, or you're fallen from grace. You'd better let me read a chapter: it may arouse your conscience." "Read, then, if you want to," he said one day, too feeble to resist. "Where shall I read?" she asked delightedly, giving her Bible a preparatory scrub with her apron. "Oh!" he answered weakly, "read about David and Goliath: that's as lively a chapter as any I know of." "Peter Mixon!" cried Bathalina, "don't be blasphemous on your death-bed! But it is a just reward for my sinful pride that I should be the widow of an unbeliever." Both Patty and Flossy were frequent in their visits to the sick man. He seemed grateful, in his rough way, for their kindness, and would brighten up as they entered the chamber. Particularly he seemed pleased to have Patty about him, and would take from her hand the medicine which no persuasions of his wife could induce him to swallow. "He takes to you wonderful," Bathalina said: "I don't think he's so bad at heart." "I noticed the other day," Mrs. Sanford remarked, overhearing her, "that he has a mole on the left side of his chin, and that's a sure sign of goodness. Not so good as on the right side; but I don't doubt he's right-hearted in the main." Patty occupied herself more with the invalid, because of her mental uneasiness. There is no refuge for unhappiness but labor. Hazard Breck had returned to college; and, before leaving, he called to bid her good-by. "I perhaps ought not to speak of it," he said hesitatingly, as he rose to go; "but you look very unhappy nowadays, Patty." "Do I? It must be your fancy. I don't have a mournful thought from one year's end to another. Sentimentalizing isn't in my line." "I fear it is in mine," he said. "The summer has been a very bitter-sweet one to me. I am glad it is done." "It is you who are sad," she said, bravely smiling. "You look at me through colored glasses. I am gay as a lark." "I wish I believed it," he returned. The pain of a boy's first love, although less fleeting than the bliss, is fortunately also transient. His love and regret were very real to Hazard. He was conscious that Patty did not love him; but he believed that his boyish passion would be eternal, and life for him henceforth only desolation. That we shall some day smile at a fancy makes the present pain none the less poignant. "You will come back at Christmas, won't you?" Patty said, wishing to divert the conversation. "No, I think not; but, if I do, I hope you won't look as solemn as you do now." "Solemn? Nonsense! I'm as merry as a cricket. Where is your brother to-day?" "He rode over to Samoset with uncle Tom this morning. They won't be back till evening." After her caller had gone, Patty turned back into the parlor, and looked at her face in the glass.