The sisterhood were all gathered on the lawn. Miss Charity's favorite--an enormous tabby--was purring underneath the old scarlet wrapper; Miss Hope's knitting-needles clicked busily; Miss Patience was occupied over some silk patch-work, the little squares and diamonds shone in the sunlight; Faith was reading aloud 'Westward Ho.' She put down the book with a bright, welcoming smile. The interest of the story had moved her, her eyes shone with soft, serious excitement; there was a scent of tall white lilies. Dr. Stewart's bees were humming noisily; a light wind stirred the long grass shadows; Miss Charity's curls were in disorder. Some fine white-heart cherries hung over Dr. Stewart's head; he commenced gathering some, "by way of dessert," he said coolly as he transferred them to his own pocket. "Why did they not call you Cherry, Miss Charity, instead of that affected Cara?" "It is only one of Faith's whims," returned Miss Hope; "neither Prue nor I ever use it; she begun it as a child and never left off." "Why should I not use it, it is far softer and prettier than Charity?" interposed Faith appealingly. Dr. Stewart gave one of his dry laughs. "Every one has a right to their own fancies. I am prosaic enough to dislike pet names. Cara, when one is christened Charity!" with a contemptuous shrug; "why, it is a direct snub to one's sponsors." Faith looked uncomfortable; she always did when Dr. Stewart was in one of his quizzical moods. At such times he was given to find fault with everything. But in another moment he became serious. "What an odd fancy that was of Chester's calling his little girl Nan. She is a pretty little creature, and her father seems to dote on her. I was over there yesterday; Mrs. Chester had one of her attacks." "Poor thing!" sighed Miss Charity, "she is very delicate. People are fond of calling her fanciful, and no doubt she is full of whimsies like the rest of us; but it is hard work having an ailing body and an ailing temper too." "Yes," he assented; "she has her share of trouble, but she has got the blessing of a good husband." But here Miss Prudence shook her head grimly. She rarely joined in the conversation if a stranger were present; and, as her remarks were generally of a lugubrious nature, they were not greatly missed. "An ill-assorted couple, doctor," smoothing her black mittens with sad satisfaction. Miss Prudence was much given to expatiate in the domestic circle on the evils of matrimony, and to thank Heaven that she and her three sisters had not fallen into the hands of the Philistines; a peculiarly happy state of resignation for an unattractive woman, with a rigid and cast-iron exterior, and endowed besides with a masculine appendage of the upper lip. "Humph!" grunted the doctor laconically; for he had an ill-concealed antagonism to Miss Prudence, and disliked gossiping about his patients' affairs.