"Yes, you will find it very convenient. Now, go along, child, and God bless you!" Rhoda left her plate of good things at Mrs. Makay's, and then walked rapidly homeward, for it was growing late. As she entered the parlour she nearly stumbled over somebody who was sitting in the rocking-chair, for the room was quite dark. "Take care, and mind what you are about, Rhoda!" said her mother. "You do come in, in such a headlong way." "It is so dark coming in from out of doors," apologized Rhoda. "May I get a light, mother? I have something to show you." "Yes, do. I have been waiting for you to come." Rhoda lighted the lamp and came in, bringing it in one hand and her little shirts and her new Bible in the other. As she did so, she saw that the person over whom she had nearly fallen was Mr. Weightman. He laughed in his usual amiable fashion as he saw her look of discomfiture and annoyance. "You are out rather late, I think, miss," said he. "In my time little girls stayed at home and helped do the work, instead of running about town after dark. But come, let us see this wonderful something." Rhoda wished herself or Mr. Weightman anywhere else, but there was no help for it now, and she produced the shirts she had made for the baby. "How very nice and pretty they are!" said Mrs. Bowers. "And how neatly you have made them! See, father, what a pretty present Rhoda has made for the baby! Who taught you, dear?" "Aunt Hannah," replied Rhoda, her heart beating with pleasure; "but I did every stitch of them myself, and bought the wool with my own money." "Humph! Your money!" said Mr. Weightman. "Pray, how came you by this money of yours?" Rhoda was silent till Mrs. Bowers said, rather sharply,— "Don't you hear, Rhoda? Why don't you answer Mr. Weightman's question?" Then she said, briefly,— "It is money my father gave me to spend for a new sash, Mr. Weightman." "So that was the reason you bought the cheap sash?" said her mother. "I wondered at your changing your mind. I must say it was very nice in you, my dear. But what pretty book have you there?" "A new Bible Aunt Hannah gave me—just what I wanted. Isn't it pretty?" "Let me see it," said Mr. Weightman, and Rhoda put it into his hand, feeling as if his touch would profane her treasure. He turned the book over and over, and then looked at the flyleaf where the price was marked. "Five dollars and a half!" said he, in a tone of amazement mingled with sorrow. "Well, if ever! Five dollars and a half! And she might have got one for nothing if she must give it away. Well, I didn't think even Hannah would do such a thing as that. She ought to be put under 'gardeens.'" Rhoda was boiling over, but she kept silence, and only held out her hand for her precious book, which Uncle Jacob seemed no ways inclined to give up. "I am sure it was very kind in Aunt Hannah," said Mrs. Bowers, in a deprecating tone.