n, if closely following in the footsteps of the
lowly Master, must needs abjure the vanities and enticements of this
world, and live a life of self-denying toil. Not a thought of that
kind had ever entered her pretty head. A minister in her estimation
was an orator, the idol of a wealthy people, and a gentleman of
elegant ease. There was a fascination about this dark-eyed young
minister; his graceful dignity and impassioned eloquence pleased her
fancy, so the sudden attachment was mutual.

Early left a widow, with a large fortune, Mrs. Irving devoted herself
to her idol, her only child, with unremitting devotion; nothing that
would add to her happiness or her attractions was neglected, and now
with her education completed, the fond mother looked about her,
seeking a brilliant alliance for this rare daughter, when lo! she
found the matter settled. Vida's own sweet will had been the ruling
power ever since she came into the world, and the mother was obliged
to submit to the inevitable with as good grace as she could command
under the circumstances.

A poor minister! who could have dreamed that the daughter would have
made such a choice. With this mother's views of life, and life
eternal, it is not to be wondered at that she felt bitter
disappointment. The prospect, though, was not wholly dark, he was
"handsome and talented," and that went far toward consolation; then,
too, he would probably be called in time to a large, important
church, and have D.D. at the end of his name, and it would sound well
to say "My son-in-law, Rev. Dr. Eldred, of Boston, or New York City,"
and to discourse of his brilliant preaching, his wealthy
parishioners, the calls he had declined, etc.

St. Paul's Church was situated in a small city of large manufacturing
interests, and while there were many families of wealth and position
in the church, there were also many who were obliged to toil hard and
practice the utmost economy in order to have any left to pay their
subscription with. Some of these looked with no kindly eyes on the
magnificent changes of toilet that Mrs. Eldred brought out Sabbath
after Sabbath; now a sealskin sacque, then an Indian shawl, and suits
innumerable of rich silks in all possible tints, suited to all
possible occasions.

"It makes a body feel as if they hadn't a thing fit to wear, the way
Mrs. Eldred comes out in her silks and velvets," Mrs. Jenks, a
mechanic's wife, remarked to her neighbour. I wonder what she'd sa