est inhabitant, the vicar himself had
come under the transforming hand of Eunice, and now, within hail of
seventy, he was a sprucer figure than he had been since the days of his
brief married happiness--forty years before. His collars were always
spotless, his white ties--white. His trousers reached to his shoes at
last. Perhaps his step had lost its springiness, his coat its breezy
freedom; but he had gained in dignity what was lost in quaintness.

As for Eunice herself, this one short year had carried her well into
womanhood, and though only nineteen she was the counsellor of many who
were older. There is a wonderful reserve of domestic gold in every young
woman whose bank is run upon. At an age when a young man is watching his
moustache's progress, many a young woman is grappling heroically,
obscurely, with the essential things of life. Yet Eunice was doing no
more than thousands of womenkind had done.

But her position as housekeeper at the vicarage, as teacher in the
Sunday School, conferred certain advantages, and brought her more
prominently into the life of the little village. From being "Old Carne's
little girl," she had been translated into "Miss Lyndon at the
vicarage." Her daily pursuits, the refining influence of her duties,
quickly developed and ripened her own excellent qualities of heart and
mind, and in twelve fleeting months she stood forth a woman; discreet
of tongue, yet bright with happiness, resourceful, heart-free.

Henry noted, with a thrilling interest he could scarce account for,
these changes in his little friend of long ago, when she came under his
eyes again at church on the Sunday following his arrival.

"How do you do, Miss Lyndon?" and "How are you, Mr. Charles? It seems a
lifetime since you went away," did not suggest the sputtering fires of
kindling passion.

"Yes, it takes an effort of mind sometimes to recall my Hampton days."
One was almost suspicious of affectation.

"Really! That's scarcely kind to Hampton and--us."

"Ah, I am not likely to forget old friends; but I mean that the years of
almost changeless life here are only the impression of a morning sky,
compared with the crowded day that has followed."

Was the suspicion well founded?

"Then you've been bitten by the dog Town, and go hunting for a hair of
him!"

Eunice smiled at her conceit, and Henry laughed with rising eyebrows,
that said: "This young lady has improved wonderfully."

"Good, Eunice; very good! You