"I have not seen a roast oyster since I was a girl," said Mrs. Carpenter. Her visiter could hear in the tone of her voice that the sight would be very welcome. As for Rotha, displeasure was lost in curiosity. The oysters were already nicely washed; that Mr. Digby had had done by the same boy that brought the basket; it only remained to put them on the fire and take them off; and both operations he was quite equal to. Rotha looked on in silent astonishment, seeing the oyster shells open, and the juice sputter on the hot iron, and perceiving the very acceptable fragrance that came from them. Mr. Digby admonished her presently to make the tea; and then they had a merry meal. Absolutely merry; for their visitor, he could hardly be called their guest, spiced his ministrations with so pleasant a manner that nothing but cheerfulness could keep its ground before him. At the first taste of the oysters, it is true, some associations seemed to come over Mrs. Carpenter which threatened to make a sudden stop to her dinner. She sat back in her chair, and perhaps was swallowing old troubles and heartburnings over again, or perhaps recalling involuntarily a time before troubles began. The oysters seemed to choke her; and she said she wanted no more. But Mr. Digby guessed what was the matter; and was so tenderly kind and judiciously persuasive, that Mrs. Carpenter could not withstand him; and then, Rotha looked on in new amazement to see how the oysters went down and how manifestly they were enjoyed. She herself declined to touch them; they did not look attractive to her. "Rotha," said Mr. Digby, as he opened a fine, fat oyster, "the only way to know things is, to submit to learn." "I needn't learn to like oysters, I suppose, need I?" "Yes." "Why?" "It might be useful some day." "I don't see how it should. We never had oysters before, and perhaps we never shall again." "You might go a missionary to some South Sea island, and be obliged at times to live upon oysters." "I am not going to be a missionary." "That is more than you know." "But I know what I like, and what I think." "At present. Perhaps you do. You do not know whether you like oysters, however, for you have not tried." "Your sphere of knowledge will be small, Rotha," said her mother, "if you refuse to enlarge it." Stung a little, Rotha made up her mind to try an oyster, to which her objections were twofold. Nevertheless, she was obliged to confess, she liked it; and the meal, as I said, went merrily on; Rotha from that time doing her fall share. Mrs. Carpenter was plainly refreshed and comforted, by the social as well as the material food she received. "How good he is!" she exclaimed when their friend was gone. "So are the oysters," said Rotha; "but I don't like him to bring them. I do not think I like Mr. Digby much, anyhow." "You surprise me. And it is not a little ungrateful."