es in a log meeting-house, sometimes in a barn, and often in a
private house, should suddenly come upon--"

The imaginary progress of the circuit-rider was brought to a stop by the
arrival of the last course of the luncheon. From a pretty glass dish
uprose a wondrous structure. Within an encircling wall of delicate,
candied tracery was heaped a little mound of creamy frost, the sides of
great strawberries showing here and there among the veins and specks of
crimson juice.

Miss Panney raised her eyes from this creation to the face of her
hostess.

"Kitty," said she, "is this the doctor's birthday?"

"No," answered Mrs. Tolbridge, with a smile; "he was born in January."

"Yours then, perhaps?"

Mrs. Tolbridge shook her head.

"A dollar and a half," thought the old lady, "and perhaps more. Five
dollars at the very least for the meal. If the doctor makes that much
between meals, day in and day out, she ought to be thankful."

The dainty concoction to which the blazing-eyed old lady now applied
herself was something she had never before tasted, and she became of the
opinion that Kipper would not get up a dish of that sort, and so much of
it, for less than two dollars.

"There was a Methodist preacher," she said, spoonful after spoonful of
the cold and fruity concoction melting in her mouth as she spoke, "a
regular apostle of the poor, named Lorenzo Dow. How I would like to have
him here. He was a man who would let people know in trumpet tones, by day
and by night, what he thought of wicked, wasteful prodigality, no matter
how pleasant it might be, how easy it might be, or how proper in people
who could afford it. Is there to be anything more, Kitty Tolbridge?"

The doctor's wife could not restrain a little laugh.

"No," she said, "there is to be nothing more, unless you will take a
little tea."

Miss Panney pushed back her chair and looked at her hostess. "Tea after a
meal like that! I should think not. If you had had champagne during the
luncheon, and coffee afterwards, I shouldn't have been surprised."

"I did not order coffee," said Mrs. Tolbridge, "because we don't take it
in the middle of the day, but--"

"You ordered quite enough," said her visitor, severely; "and I will say
this for Kipper, that he never got up a better meal, although--"

"Kipper!" interrupted Mrs. Tolbridge. "Kipper had nothing to do with this
luncheon. It was prepared by my new cook. It is the first meal she has
given us, and I am