"It is so good of you to have us," returned Queenie, feeling strangely subdued all of a sudden, as she followed Langley's tall figure into the square little hall, and then into a sitting-room, pleasantly littered with books and work, and with a certain old-fashioned cosiness in its arrangements. The deep basket-work chairs, lined with chintz cushions, looked deliciously inviting, and so did the low couch and reading-table. One high narrow window commanded a view of the steep little lawn, running down to the lane; the other, to Queenie's surprise, opened full on the church-yard. Within a few feet were tall palings, and a granite obelisk; then some sparsely-scattered tombstones, and a long terrace bordered by sycamores, and known by the name of the plane-tree walk. "I am afraid it strikes you as very dismal," said Langley, softly, as they stood together at the windows; "most people consider the obelisk a great eyesore. A few years ago there was not a single tombstone; it is only now that they have begun to use the church-yard. It was just the church, and the green, and the plane-tree walk; it was our garden then." "I suppose one would get used to it in time," replied Queenie, somewhat evasively. Her healthy young vitality shivered a little at the incongruity between the warm cosiness of the life inside and the gleaming tombstones without, within a few feet of the fireside round which the family circle gathered. "That terrace walk is very pretty, and the old church must be nice; but--" "But you think we ought always to be reading Hervey's 'Meditations,' and considering our latter end," broke in Cathy gaily. "Nothing of the kind, I assure you; Garth grumbles, and declares he will build a new house for himself higher up the hill, and Ted agrees with him; but I don't mind it in the least, and Langley likes it." "Do you?" asked Queenie, fixing her large brown eyes curiously on Langley's pale face. "I love it," was the quiet answer. "Well, what do you think of Langley?" asked Cathy, when they had been duly installed in their large comfortable room. Miss Clayton had left them, taking Emmie with her, after having ministered to the child with her own hands. Her thoughtfulness for their comfort, and her gentle manipulation of Emmie touched Queenie's heart; they had gone off together hand in hand, Emmie chattering confidentially to her new friend, and Cathy and she had ensconced themselves cosily on the low window-seat commanding a view of the old church and church-yard. Queenie liked it better now; after all it was strangely peaceful, God's Acre, as she loved to hear it called. "Well, what do you think of this sister of mine?" repeated her friend enquiringly.