Rob was the first to call. He had thought the night at the mines a lark and was a good deal interested in Mr. Pennington, whom he first called Elithe’s patient and afterwards her convert. He found him in the “chambre de luxe” of The Samona,—a large, square room with three paper-curtained windows, a rag carpet, a high post bedstead, two hard chairs, a table in the centre with a red cotton spread, a Bible, a high washstand with a round hole in the top for the bowl and two small towels. Mr. Pennington was glad to see the boy and kept him a long time, asking him questions about the people in the town and his own family generally. Then looking from his window to the far end of the long street, where the church, soon to be consecrated, was standing, he talked about that, learning that Elithe played the instrument, as Rob called the little parlor organ, and led the singing and taught in Sunday-school and “ran things generally, and ran them well, too,” Rob said, adding with a good deal of pride: “Elithe is very religious,—not stiff, you know; not the kind that won’t let a feller have a good time. She likes fun and all that, but she’s great on the church and temperance.” Rob remembered the snakes and blue devils, and as the son of a clergyman felt it his duty to drive a nail in the right direction when he had a chance. There was no sign of snakes or devils about Mr. Pennington now. He was clothed and in his right mind. A temperance pledge was in his pocket and he meant to keep it. He had some money, thanks to his friends the miners, whom he should pay as soon as he received what he was expecting every day. He was lodged in a clean and comfortable room, and what was better than all he was near Elithe. His “sweet wild rose of the West” he called her to himself, and he had sworn a big oath that not a petal of the rose should be tarnished by him. He was going to reform; he had reformed, and when later in the day Mr. Hansford called he, like Rob, was impressed with the gentlemanly manner with which he was received. In some respects Mr. Pennington had the advantage of Roger. He had traveled in Europe, had seen much of the world, had read many books and had been to Harvard College. He did not say he had been sent home for the very habit which had brought him so low at the mines, nor did Mr. Hansford ask him troublesome questions. Accustomed to many phases of human nature, he was shrewd enough to guess that behind this polished exterior there was a past the man would keep from sight, and he did not intend to meddle with it. If he could do him good he would and at the same time he should guard his own fold sedulously, lest some taint of poison should creep in. He invited Mr. Pennington to call at the Rectory, and the next day he came, and the next and the next, until he was quite one of the family. He seemed to know just what string to pull to make himself popular. He told Rob of his trip to Egypt, of the