in all his
thoughts."

Miss Millet was a woman of action and projects. Her whole being was
absorbed in one idea--that of doing good; but her means were small, very
small, for, besides being exceedingly poor, she was in delicate health
and getting old. She subsisted on quite a microscopic annuity; but,
instead of trying to increase it, she devoted the whole of her time to
labours of love and charity. The labour that suited her health and
circumstances best was knitting socks for the poor, because that
demanded little thought and set her mind free to form unlimited
projects.

The delight which Miss Millet, experienced in meeting with her old
friend Jeffrey Benson was displayed in the vivacity of her reception of
him and the tremulosity of her little cap.

"It's just like coming home, auntie--may I still venture to call you
so?"

Jeff had been wont to sit on a stool at the good lady's feet. He did so
now--on the old stool.

"You may call me what you please, Jeff. It was your child-fancy to
accord to me that honourable relationship; so you may continue it if you
will. How you are grown, too! I could not have known you had I met
you--so big, and with that horrible black beard."

"Horrible! Miss Millet?"

"Well, terrible, if you prefer it. It's so bushy and unnatural for one
so young."

"That can hardly be, auntie," rejoined the youth, with a smile that sent
quite a ripple down the objectionable beard, "because my beard was
provided by Nature."

"Well, Jeff," returned the spinster promptly, "were not scissors and
razors provided by--no, it was art that provided _them_," she continued
with a little smile of confusion; "but they _are_ provided all the same,
and--But we won't pursue that subject, for you men are incorrigible!
Now tell me, Jeff, where you have been, and why you didn't come to see
me sooner, and why your letters have been so few--though I admit they
were long."

We will not inflict on the reader all the conversation that ensued.
When Jeff had exhausted his narrative, Miss Millet discovered that it
was tea-time; and, while engaged in preparations for the evening meal,
she enlarged upon some of her projects, being encouraged thereto by
Jeff, whose heart was naturally sympathetic.

"But some of my projects are impossible," she said, with a little sigh.
"Some small things, indeed, I have accomplished, with God's blessing;
but there are others which are quite beyond me."

"Indeed! Tell me no