fifteen; that 's it." Master Gridley did not say this loud. But he did
speak as follows: "I am glad to hear what you say of the Rev. Joseph
Bellamy Stoker's love of being useful to people of all ages. You have
had comfort in his companionship, and there are others who might be very
glad to profit by it. I know a very excellent person who has had trials,
and is greatly interested in religious conversation. Do you think he
would be willing to let this friend of mine share in the privileges of
spiritual intercourse which you enjoy?"

There was but one answer possible. Of course he would.

"I hope it is so, my dear young lady. But listen to me one moment.
I love you, my dear child, do you know, as if I were your
own--grandfather." (There was moral heroism in that word.) "I love you
as if you were of my own blood; and so long as you trust me, and suffer
me, I mean to keep watch against all dangers that threaten you in mind,
body, or estate. You may wonder at me, you may sometimes doubt me; but
until you say you distrust me, when any trouble comes near you, you
will find me there. Now, my dear child, you ought to know that the
Rev. Joseph Bellamy Stoker has the reputation of being too fond of
prosecuting religious inquiries with young and handsome women."

Myrtle's eyes fell,--a new suspicion seemed to have suggested itself.

"He wanted to get up a spiritual intimacy with our Susan Posey,--a very
pretty girl, as you know."

Myrtle tossed her head almost imperceptibly, and bit her lip.

"I suppose there are a dozen young people that have been talked about
with him. He preaches cruel sermons in his pulpit, cruel as death, and
cold-blooded enough to freeze any mother's blood if nature did not tell
her he lied, and then smooths it all over with the first good-looking
young woman he can get to listen to him."

Myrtle had dropped the slipper she was working on.

"Tell me, my dear, would you be willing to give up meeting this man
alone, and gratify my friend, and avoid all occasion of reproach?"

"Of course I would," said Myrtle, her eyes flashing, for her doubts, her
shame, her pride, were all excited. "Who is your friend, Mr. Gridley?"

"An excellent woman,--Mrs. Hopkins. You know her, Gifted Hopkins's
mother, with whom I am residing. Shall the minister be given to
understand that you will see him hereafter in her company?"

Myrtle came pretty near a turn of her old nervous perturbations. "As you
say," she answered. "Is