in mind; for,
if this were the case, it was doubtful whether, after class was
over, there would be any one to invite him home.

"What kind of a man is the new preacher?" asked Mrs. Martin of her
husband, on his return from meeting.

"He seemed like a very good sort of man," replied Martin,
indifferently.

"Is he young or old?"

"He's about my age, I should think."

"Married?"

"I'm sure I don't know."

"Did you speak to him?"

"No, I came away after the sermon."

"Then you didn't stop to class?"

"No."

"Sister Russell was not there, of course?"

"No; she's sick."

"So I heard. The preacher didn't stay at her house last night."

"How do you know?"

"Mrs. Williams called in while you were away. She had just been to
sister Russell's."

"And the new preacher didn't stay at her house last night?"

"No. Mrs. Williams asked particularly."

"He must have ridden over from S-- this morning. I am sorry I
didn't wait and ask him to come home and stay with us."

"I wish you had. Sister Russell is too sick to have him at her
house, if he should go there. Who stayed to class-meeting?"

"Not over half a dozen, and they were all women. I left Bill Taylor
and Harry Chester waiting outside for their wives."

"They wouldn't ask him home."

"No; and if they did, I should be sorry to have him go there. I wish
I had stayed in, and invited him home. But it can't be helped now,
and there's no use in fretting over it."

Soon after this, dinner was announced, and the farmer sat down with
his family to a table loaded with good and substantial things. He
ate and enjoyed himself; though not as highly as he would have done,
had not thoughts of the new preacher intruded themselves.

After dinner, Martin took a comfortable nap, which lasted about an
hour. He then went out and took a little walk to himself. While
standing at the gate, which opened from his farm on to the county
road, a man, who lived half a mile below, came along. This man was
not a member of any church, and took some delight, at times, in
having his jest with professors of religion.

"Fine afternoon, Mr. Ellis," said Martin, as the man stopped.

"Very fine. How are you all?"

"Quite well. Any news stirring?"

"Why, no, not much. Only they say that the Methodists about here
have all joined the Amalgamation Society."

"Who says so?" inquired Martin, slightly colouring.

"Well, they say it down our way. I thought it was only a joke, at
first. B