dful of people, at
the scattered pennies and dimes in the contribution box, and reflected
that his mission was not only to gather funds for the building of his
church, but to keep alive, in all these remote and lonely
neighborhoods, that love for the cause which was its only hope in the
years to come.

"If any of the sisters will provide entertainment," he said, "Mrs.
Burch and I will remain among you to-night and to-morrow. In that event
we could hold a parlor meeting. My wife and one of my children would
wear the native costume, we would display some specimens of Syrian
handiwork, and give an account of our educational methods with the
children. These informal parlor meetings, admitting of questions or
conversation, are often the means of interesting those not commonly
found at church services so I repeat, if any member of the congregation
desires it and offers her hospitality, we will gladly stay and tell you
more of the Lord's work."

A pall of silence settled over the little assembly. There was some
cogent reason why every "sister" there was disinclined for company.
Some had no spare room, some had a larder less well stocked than usual,
some had sickness in the family, some were "unequally yoked together
with unbelievers" who disliked strange ministers. Mrs. Burch's thin
hands fingered her black silk nervously. "Would no one speak!" thought
Rebecca, her heart fluttering with sympathy. Mrs. Robinson leaned over
and whispered significantly, "The missionaries always used to be
entertained at the brick house; your grandfather never would let 'em
sleep anywheres else when he was alive." She meant this for a stab at
Miss Miranda's parsimony, remembering the four spare chambers, closed
from January to December; but Rebecca thought it was intended as a
suggestion. If it had been a former custom, perhaps her aunts would
want her to do the right thing; for what else was she representing the
family? So, delighted that duty lay in so pleasant a direction, she
rose from her seat and said in the pretty voice and with the quaint
manner that so separated her from all the other young people in the
village, "My aunts, Miss Miranda and Miss Jane Sawyer, would be very
happy to have you visit them at the brick house, as the ministers
always used to do when their father was alive. They sent their respects
by me." The "respects" might have been the freedom of the city, or an
equestrian statue, when presented in this way, and the aunts