"and Alice, they say, has got a beau off south, and that's what makes
her so mopish at times."

"Perhaps it is as sister Fleetfoot says," observed Jerusha; "for Alice
is certainly changed from what she used to be. She never attends our
circle now, and seldom goes to church. I wonder how she does pass her
time?"

"'Tis more than I can tell," answered Mrs. Sykes; "there was always
something mysterious about those Orvilles, to me. But I shall be obliged
to go home, sister Jerusha, to attend to my work, as I've no servant,"
continued the wronged lady, rising, and depositing her work in the
treasurer's box.

"I'm sorry you must go, sister Sykes," said Jerusha; "but be of good
cheer, and I'll drop in and see you in the course of the week."

"Pray, do, sister Sharpwell; I need all the aid and sympathy of
Christian hearts to sustain my soul," said Mrs. Sykes, with a ruefully
pious countenance, as she took her departure.

The meeting progressed. Fast flew the nimble fingers of the devoted
laborers in the good cause; and could the poor heathen have known what
mighty exertions this band of benevolent, self-denying females, who
basked in the noontide glory of the sun of righteousness, were making
for their liberation from the thrall of pagan darkness and superstition,
we doubt not that they would have prostrated themselves by millions
before the shrine of their great idol, Juggernaut, and devoutly invoked
him to pardon and forgive the poor, deluded victims of a false religion,
and bring them all under his sublime sway and holy dominion.

At length, Miss Gaddie was called on to sing the parting hymn. The lady
president delivered herself of a most eloquent and oratorical harangue,
during which the benevolent rose to a tremendous pitch, which nothing
could calm off but the call to supper.

This well-furnished meal dispensed, the "Ladies' Literary Benevolent
Combination for Foreign Aid" adjourned to the next Wednesday, at the
house of Mrs. Dorothy Sykes, Highflyer Street; which Christian lady
was aghast with terror and dismay, when she learned this batch of
benevolence was assigned over to her for its next meeting.

"O, mercy!" she feelingly exclaimed; "and I've no girl to assist me, and
my house will be turned topsy-turvy, new parlor carpet ruined,--and,
besides, they'll eat us out of house and home, and Mr. Sykes is _so_
close-fisted!"

"But I hope 'twill be a rainy day," she added, by way of consolation.

Truly, benevole