It was a warm afternoon, soft and balmy; a little haze on the sky, the least veil upon the Mong's further shore; the summer roses hanging their heads, heavy with sleep and sweetness. The honeysuckles on the porch grew sweeter and sweeter as the sun went down, and the humming-birds dipped into those long flagons, or poised them selves in mid-air for a survey. In the porch sat the three ladies. Each had been busy, and now each laid down her work, obedient to unseen influences. The warm breeze was softly rubbing Faith's cheek with its rouging fingers, and her mother gazed--nor could give one look to humming-birds or roses. Her thoughts however, took greater range--or the low chiming of the village clock sent them off; for she presently said, "Faith, my dear, what have we got for tea?"--that meal being under Faith's special superintendence. "Very good blackberries, mother, and beautiful raspberries; and I cut my cream-cheese; and Cindy is ready to bake the bannocks. Butter's as sweet as it can be, this churning. Will that do?--Mr. Linden likes raspberries and cream," she added a little lower. Mrs. Derrick gave a comprehensive "Yes, child," to both parts of Faith's reply, and then stopped and looked away up the street. For down the street at that moment came Mr. Linden, walking leisurely, his head bent towards one of his older scholars who had both hands clasped round his arm. The boy's upraised eager face shewed even at a distance how earnestly he was talking. "There he comes!" said Miss Danforth. "Who is that with him?" said Faith. "Reuben Taylor, child," her mother answered. Then as they came near the gate, and stopped and shook hands, Reuben cried out (in answer to words which they did not hear) "Let _me_ go! do, please, Mr. Linden!"--and went; while his teacher opened the gate, picked one of the drooping roses, came up the steps and taking off his hat bowed to the assembled ladies. "Well, Mr. Linden," said Miss Danforth, "how do you find the Pattaquasset diamonds?" "I find, madam, that they shine--as is the custom of diamonds." "Are you going to let Reuben Taylor go?" "Whither?" said Mr. Linden. "Why, where he asked you. Is _he_ one of Mr. Somers' precious stones?" "He has gone," was the smiling reply. "Precious?--yes,--everybody is precious in one sense." "You haven't been to college for nothing," said Miss Danforth, who would talk about anything. "I should like you to find out in what sense _I_ am precious. I've a good many friends--but there isn't one of 'em that wouldn't eat and drink just as well with me out of the world as in it." He smiled a little--though rather soberly, and stood watching the changing colours of clouds and sky for a minute or two without speaking. Then, half to himself as it were, low but very distinctly, he repeated-- "'And they shall be mine, saith the Lord, in the day when I make up my jewels.'"