"Now you must tell us all about your niece's wedding, Mrs. Hankey," Mrs. Bateson said--"her that was married last week. My word alive, but your sister is wonderful fortunate in settling her daughters! That's what I call a well-brought-up family, and no mistake. Five daughters, and each one found peace and a pious husband before she was five-and-twenty." "The one before last married a Churchman," said Mrs. Hankey apologetically, as if the union thus referred to were somewhat morganatic in its character, and therefore no subject for pride or congratulation. "Well, to be sure! Still, he may make her a good husband." "He may or he may not; you never can tell. It seems to me that husbands are like new boots--you can't tell where they're going to pinch you till it's too late to change 'em. And as for creaking, why, the boots that are quietest in the shop are just the ones that fairly disgrace you when you come into chapel late on a Sunday morning, and think to slip in quietly during the first prayer; and it is pretty much the same with husbands--those that are the meekest in the wooing are the most masterful to live with." "What was the name of the Churchman your niece married?" asked Mrs. Bateson. "I forget." "Wilkins--Tom Wilkins. He isn't a bad fellow in some respects--he is steady and sober, and never keeps back a farthing of his wages for himself; but his views are something dreadful. I can not stand them at any price, and so I'm forever telling his wife." "Dear me! That's sad news, Mrs. Hankey." "Would you believe it, he don't hold with the good old Methodist habit of telling out loud what the Lord has done for your soul? He says religion should be acted up to and not talked about; but, for my part, I can't abide such closeness." "Nor I," agreed Mrs. Bateson warmly; "I don't approve of treating the Lord like a poor relation, as some folks seem to do. They'll go to His house and they'll give Him their money; but they're fairly ashamed of mentioning His Name in decent company." "Just so; and that's Tom Wilkins to the life. He's a good husband and a regular church-goer; but as for the word that edifieth, you might as well look for it from a naked savage as from him. Many a time have I said to his wife, 'Tom may be a kind husband in the time of prosperity, as I make no doubt he is--there's plenty of that sort in the world; but you wait till the days of adversity come, and I doubt that then you'll be wishing you'd not been in such a hurry to get married, but had waited till you had got a good Methodist!' And so she will, I'll be bound; and the sooner she knows it the better." Mrs. Bateson sighed at the gloomy prospect opening out before young Mrs. Wilkins; then she asked: "How did the last daughter's wedding go off? She married a Methodist, surely?"