u on another little holiday," he said hopefully.

"I'm afraid he won't," answered Kate.

"Why not?"

"Because he seemed so cross when I came back this last time."

"Why was he cross?" asked Tom.

"Because--" She was about to say that it was because she had been
brought in contact with him; but she recollected herself in time.

"Because what?"

"Because he happened to be in a bad temper," she answered.

"It is too bad that you should have to submit to any one's whims and
tempers," the young man said, switching his stick angrily backwards and
forwards.

"Why not?" she asked, laughing. "Everybody has some one over them.
If you hadn't, you would never know right from wrong."

"But he is unkind to you."

"No, indeed," said Kate, with decision. "He is really very kind to me.
He may appear a little stern at times, but I know that he means it for
my own good, and I should be a very foolish girl if I resented it.
Besides, he is so pious and good that what may seem a little fault to us
would appear a great thing in his eyes."

"Oh, he is very pious and good, then," Tom remarked, in a doubtful
voice. His shrewd old father had formed his own views as to John
Girdlestone's character, and his son had in due course imbibed them from
him.

"Yes, of course he is," answered Kate, looking up with great wondering
eyes. "Don't you know that he is the chief supporter of the Purbrook
Street Branch of the Primitive Trinitarians, and sits in the front pew
three times every Sunday?"

"Ah!" said Tom.

"Yes, and subscribes to all the charitable funds, and is a friend of
Mr. Jefferson Edwards, the great philanthropist. Besides, look how good
he has been to me. He has taken the place of my father."

"Hum!" Tom said dubiously; and then, with a little pang at his heart,
"Do you like Ezra Girdlestone too?"

"No, indeed," cried his companion with energy. "I don't like him in the
least. He is a cruel, bad-hearted man."

"Cruel! You don't mean cruel to you, of course."

"No, not to me. I avoid him as much as I can, and sometimes for weeks
we hardly exchange a word. Do you know what he did the other day?
It makes me shudder even to think of it. I heard a cat crying pitifully
in the garden, so I went out to see what was the matter. When I got
outside I saw Ezra Girdlestone leaning out of a window with a gun in his
hands--one of those air-guns which don't make any noise when they go
off. And there, in the middle of the g