“And _God_!” said Sophie, raising her eyes confidently to meet his; but the brilliant, basilisk, greenish grey eyes seemed to freeze her eyeballs, and she dropped their sheltering lids again—yet she felt the glance of those glittering, cold, keen eyes entering her heart, and a chill, an icy chill, ran through all her veins. She started up and sought Emily. Emily was in the next room, the dining-room, where, seated in two little chairs at a little child’s table, covered with a white cloth, appeared the children, Gusty and Hagar, eating their supper of milk and sweetmeats. The children were at each end of the table, and Emily was kneeling at the side with an arm lightly clasped around each—she had just thus embraced the orphans, and a tear was glistening in her eye. She arose as Sophie entered, and said— “Why have you left the room, my love; it was so rude to Mr. Withers?” “Because I don’t like to stay with him—do _you_? How do _you_ like him, Emily?” “Well, dear, I don’t know. I have scarcely had an opportunity of seeing yet—he is grave, grave to austerity, yet that, though it may awe young maidens, can scarcely be deemed a fault in the Pastor of the Crucifixion Parish.” “Oh! it was not that—it was not that!” “What was it then, my frightened dove?” “I could not tell you! You wouldn’t understand! _He has never looked at you—never spoken to you._” “How you do talk at random, child—we conversed at tea.” “He has never looked at you and never spoken to you!” “My dear, you are hysterical—I must give you some morphine.” She went to a cupboard. But the wild fluttering of Sophie’s startled heart subsided—she refused the morphine, and at last they returned to the parlor. The next day was Good Friday, and of course there was service at the church, and the Rev. John Huss Withers was to preach his first sermon. Reader, do you happen to know what a great event the arrival of a new preacher is in a country neighborhood? Not only does the parish over which he is installed as minister, but every surrounding parish, forsake their own especial minister to flock to hear him. At an early hour two horses stood saddled at the gate of Grove Cottage, and the minister, Sophie, Emily, and her son, sallied out to mount them. When Sophie saw but two horses saddled, and knew that there were four persons to go to church, she looked with embarrassment at Emily. “You are to ride on a pillion behind Mr. Withers, Miss Churchill—and Gusty is to ride behind me.”