, strictly
speaking, secular time,--were relaxed. Father Pemberton was there, and
Master Byles Gridley, of course, and the Rev. Ambrose Eveleth, with his
son and his daughter-in-law, Bathsheba, and her mother, now in
comfortable health, aunt Silence and her husband, Doctor Hurlbut and his
wife (Olive Eveleth that was), Jacob Penhallow, Esq., Mrs. Hopkins, her
son and his wife (Susan Posey that was), the senior deacon of the old
church (the admirer of the great Scott), the Editor-in-chief of the
"Banner and Oracle," and in the background Nurse Byloe and the privileged
servant, Mistress Kitty Fagan, with a few others whose names we need not
mention.

The evening was made pleasant with sacred music, and the fatigues of two
long services repaired by such simple refections as would not turn the
holy day into a day of labor. A large paper copy of the new edition of
Byles Gridley's remarkable work was lying on the table. He never looked
so happy,--could anything fill his cup fuller? In the course of the
evening Clement spoke of the many trials through which they had passed in
common with vast numbers of their countrymen, and some of those peculiar
dangers which Myrtle had had to encounter in the course of a life more
eventful, and attended with more risks, perhaps, than most of them
imagined. But Myrtle, he said, had always been specially cared for. He
wished them to look upon the semblance of that protecting spirit who had
been faithful to her in her gravest hours of trial and danger. If they
would follow him into one of the lesser apartments up stairs they would
have an opportunity to do so.

Myrtle wondered a little, but followed with the rest. They all ascended
to the little projecting chamber, through the window of which her scarlet
jacket caught the eyes of the boys paddling about on the river in those
early days when Cyprian Eveleth gave it the name of the Fire-hang-bird's
Nest.

The light fell softly but clearly on the dim and faded canvas from which
looked the saintly features of the martyred woman, whose continued
presence with her descendants was the old family legend. But underneath
it Myrtle was surprised to see a small table with some closely covered
object upon it. It was a mysterious arrangement, made without any
knowledge on her part.

"Now, then, Kitty!" Mr. Lindsay said.

Kitty Fagan, who had evidently been taught her part, stepped forward, and
removed the cloth which concealed the unknown obje