ht to be," said Mr. Clement: "Such character, such nature and so
much grace."

"That's it,--that's it, young man," the Deacon broke in,--"Natur' and
Grace,--Natur' and Grace. Nobody ever knew better what those two words
meant than Scott did, and I'm very glad to see--you've chosen such good
wholesome reading. You can't set up too late, young man, to read Scott.
If I had twenty children, they should all begin reading Scott as soon as
they were old enough to spell sin,--and that's the first word my little
ones learned, next to 'pa' and I 'ma.' Nothing like beginning the lessons
of life in good season."

"What a grim old satirist!" Clement said to himself. "I wonder if the
old man reads other novelists.--Do tell me, Deacon, if you have read
Thackeray's last story? "

"Thackeray's story? Published by the American Tract Society?"

"Not exactly," Clement answered, smiling, and quite delighted to find
such an unexpected vein of grave pleasantry about the demure-looking
church-dignitary; for the Deacon asked his question without moving a
muscle, and took no cognizance whatever of the young man's tone and
smile. First-class humorists are, as is well known, remarkable for the
immovable solemnity of their features. Clement promised himself not a
little amusement from the curiously sedate drollery of the venerable
Deacon, who, it was plain from his conversation, had cultivated a
literary taste which would make him a more agreeable companion than the
common ecclesiastics of his grade in country villages.

After breakfast, Mr. Clement walked forth in the direction of Mrs.
Hopkins's house, thinking as he went of the pleasant surprise his visit
would bring to his longing and doubtless pensive Susan; for though she
knew he was coming, she did not know that he was at that moment in Oxbow
Village.

As he drew near the house, the first thing he saw was Susan Posey, almost
running against her just as he turned a corner. She looked wonderfully
lively and rosy, for the weather was getting keen and the frosts had
begun to bite. A young gentleman was walking at her side, and reading to
her from a paper he held in his hand. Both looked deeply interested,--so
much so that Clement felt half ashamed of himself for intruding upon them
so abruptly.

But lovers are lovers, and Clement could not help joining them. The
first thing, of course, was the utterance of two simultaneous
exclamations, "Why, Clement!" "Why, Susan!" What might