rts
are all one to me."

Gerhardt looked rather amused.

"We come from Almayne," he said; "some of us in past years dwelt in
Provence, Toulouse, and Gascony."

"Don't tell me!" said Isel, holding up her hands. "It's all so much
gibberish. Have you met with my man?--that's all I want to know."

"I have not," replied Gerhardt. "I will ask my friends, and see if any
of them have done so."

Supper over, a second surprise followed. Again Gerhardt offered his
special blessing--"God, who has given us bodily food, grant us His
spiritual life; and may God be with us, and we always with Him!" Then
they once more knelt and silently prayed. Gerhardt drew his wife and
sister into a corner of the house, and opening his book, read a short
portion, after which they engaged in low-toned conversation.

Derette, with the baby in her arms, had drawn near the group. She was
not at all bashful.

"I wish I could understand you," she said. "What are you talking
about?"

Gerhardt lifted his cap before answering.

"About our blessed Lord Christ, my maiden," he said.

Derette nodded, with an air of satisfaction at the wide extent of her
knowledge. "I know. He's holy Mary's Son."

"Ay, and He is our Saviour," added Flemild.

"Is He thy Saviour, little one?" asked Gerhardt.

"I don't know what you mean," was the answer.

"O Derette! you know well enough that our Lord is called the Saviour!"
corrected her sister in rather a shocked tone.

"I know that, but I don't know what it means," persisted the child
sturdily.

"Come, be quiet!" said her mother. "I never did see such a child for
wanting to get to the bottom of things.--Well, Romund! Folks that want
supper should come in time for it. All's done and put by now."

"I have had my supper at the Lodge," responded a tall young man of
twenty-two, who had just entered. "Who are those people?"

His mother gave the required explanation. Romund looked rather
doubtfully at the guests. Gerhardt, seeing that this was the master of
the house, at least under present circumstances, rose, and respectfully
raising his cap, apologised for their presence.

"What can you do?" inquired Romund shortly.

"My trade is weaving," replied Gerhardt, "but I can stack wood or cut
it, put up shelves, milk cows, or attend to a garden. I shall be glad
to do any thing in my power."

"You may nail up the vine over the back door," said Romund, "and I dare
say my mother can find you some sh