No more was said on the subject. Aaron had learned many things in his visit to the people's homes. I fancy that he gathered much material for Sunday-sermons that afternoon. I could not help wishing that he knew all of last night's teaching to me. An idle wish; how could he? What is knowledge to one is but dry dust to another soul. The soils of the human heart are as various as those of our planet, and therein as many and as strange plants are grown. Why had I always thought mine to be adapted to the aloe? The evening was dull. I asked Aaron to lend me a sermon. He inquired,-- "What for?" "To go to sleep over," I said. "And are they so soporific?" he laughingly asked. "It's a great while since I've read one. What have you been doing lately in your profession? anything remarkable?" He brought me one. It aroused me. The evening passed on. I finished the sermon. Bedtime came in the parsonage, and no messenger from Mr. Axtell for me. Aaron offered to go. I said, "No, they were such strange people, I would rather not." Chloe came in from the kitchen to say that "Kate, Miss Axtell's girl, had come, and said, 'Miss Lettie was too ill for Miss Percival to take care of her. Mr. Abraham couldn't leave her.'" The funeral was to be on the morrow. * * * * * The morrow came. Early after breakfast I went to the house whereto I had gone with the neighbor's boy two nights before. I met Mr. Axtell just leaving. I inquired after his sister. "A bad night," he said; "the doctor is here; are you come to stay?" "If I can be of use." He walked back with me, went to the sick-room, and left me there with the doctor and Miss Axtell. She didn't refuse medicines, it seemed; for Doctor Eaton was administering something when I went in. The same eager look flashed out of his eyes when she spoke to me. She did not remember me,--she called me Mary. Common name it is, but the change seemed to please this quaint M.D. "Have you found out about the face?" he asked, when he had answered my inquiries after his patient. "I have not." "It isn't there any longer. Somebody's taken it away." "Ah!" "Don't you care to know about it?" "Yes, it was a pleasant face,--a prettiness of youth about it." "Ask him,--do you hear, young lady?--ask him"; and giving me directions for the morning, he left. Curious old doctor,--what care should he have concerning it?