bend from her high
sense of disapproval immediately. "What do you think the unjust steward
parable means, then?" she asked, not exactly returning to the fray, but
with an injured manner. "It is in the Sunday-school lesson to-morrow,
and I can't understand it a bit,--I never could."

"Nor I," said Betty, in a most cheerful tone. "See here, Becky, it
doesn't rain, and we can go and ask Mr. Grant to tell us about it."

"Go ask the minister!" exclaimed Mary Beck, much shocked. "Why, would
you dare to?"

"That's what ministers are for," answered Betty simply. "We can stay a
little while and see the girls, if he is busy. Come now, Becky," and
Becky reluctantly came. She was to think a great many times afterward of
that talk in the garret. She was beginning to doubt whether she had
really succeeded in settling all the questions of life, at the age of
fifteen.

The two friends went along arm-in-arm under the still-dripping trees.
The parsonage was some distance up the long Tideshead street, and the
sun was coming out as they stood on the doorsteps. The minister was
amazed when he found that these parishioners had come to have a talk
with him in the study, and to ask something directly at his willing
hands. He preached the better for it, next day, and the two girls
listened the better. As for Mary Beck, the revelation to her honest
heart of having a right in the minister, and the welcome convenience of
his fund of knowledge and his desire to be of use to her personally, was
an immense surprise. Kind Mr. Grant had been a part of the dreaded
Sundays, a fixture of the day and the church and the pulpit, before
that; he was, indirectly, a reproach, and, until this day, had never
seemed like other people exactly, or an every-day friend. Perhaps the
good man wondered if it were not his own fault, a little. He tried to be
very gay and friendly with his own girls at supper-time, and said
afterward that they must have Mary Beck and Betty Leicester to take tea
with them some time during the next week.

"But there are others in the parish who will feel hurt," urged Mrs.
Grant anxiously; and Mr. Grant only answered that there must be a dozen
tea-parties, then, as if there were no such things as sponge-cake and
ceremony in the world!

XII.

BETTY AT HOME.

EVERYBODY was as kind as possible when Betty Leicester first came to
Tideshead, and best company manners prevailed toward her; but as the
girls got used to having a new