"Well," said Henry, when Emily had finished reading, "that is a beautiful book: it made me so hot when they were all running, my feet felt as if they would run too--they quite shook--I could not keep them quiet." "And how nicely you kept papa's secret!" said Mrs. Fairchild; "you showed that you were not much more clever than Meeta." "But then, mamma," replied Henry, "papa's secret was not of so much consequence as Meeta's was." "Now, mamma," said Emily, "when do you think the day will come for Henry's story?" Mrs. Fairchild answered: "Papa will tell us when he can spare an evening." "My book, I am certain," said Henry, "will be prettier than yours, Emily." "Why must it be prettier?" asked his mother. "Because Lucy said it is all about boys; I like boys' stories--there are so few books about boys." "But I think it is a grave story," said Lucy. "Never mind," answered Henry, "if it be about boys." [Illustration: "_Meeta offered to carry the honey._"--Page 269.] Guests at Mr. Fairchild's [Illustration: "She does not know that I made a slit in my frock"] The night after Emily's story had been read, there was a violent thunderstorm and rain, which continued more or less till daybreak; it was fine again after sunrise. At breakfast a note was brought by a boy from Mrs. Goodriche: these were the words of it: "DEAR MR. FAIRCHILD, "Since that happy day we spent together, we have been in what Sukey calls a peck of troubles; and, to crown all, last night one of our old chimneys was struck with lightning: part of it fell immediately, but I am thankful to be able to say, that by the care of Providence no one was hurt. "We are all got into a corner out of the reach of it, should it fall, though it might yet stand for years as it is. I have other things to talk to you about, and was thinking of coming over to you if this accident had not happened. Now I must ask you to come to me; I have sent for workmen to consult about this chimney, but I shall have more confidence if you are here." "I must be off immediately after breakfast," said Mr. Fairchild; and he did set off, in his little carriage, as soon as he had set Henry to work. Mr. Fairchild saw the top of the ragged chimney over the trees in the garden. As soon as he came up to the gate, he himself put up the horse and carriage, for he could see no man about, and then went in at the back door, expecting to find Mrs. Goodriche at that end of the house farthest from the chimney. Sukey was the first person he saw. "Oh, sir," she said, "I am so glad you are come! We shall be all right now." "Nay," said Mr. Fairchild, jestingly, "I hope you don't expect _me_ to repair the chimney." "Is that Mr. Fairchild?" cried the cheerful voice of Mrs. Goodriche; and the next minute she came out of her parlour, followed by a tall round-faced girl of about twelve years of age, in very deep mourning.