urday evening, as he
stood on the piazza waiting for Mrs. Holland's letters. And he made it
to Sadie Ried.

"Why, Harry!" she answered, in a shocked tone.

"It's a _fact_, Sadie. You just think a bit, and you'll see it is.
They're no better nor pleasanter than other people, and all the while
they think they're about right."

"What has put you into that state of mind, Harry?"

"O, some things which happened at the store to-day suggested this
matter to me. Never mind that part. Isn't it so?"

"There's my mother," Sadie said thoughtfully. "She is good."

"Not because she's a Christian though; it's because she's your mother.
You'd have to look till you were gray to find a better mother than
I've got, and she isn't a Christian either."

"Well, I'm sure Mr. Hammond is a good man."

"Not a whit better or pleasanter than Mr. Holland, as far as I can
see. _I_ don't like him half so well. And Holland don't pretend to be
any better than the rest of us."

"Well," said Sadie, gleefully, "_I_ dont know many good people.
Miss Molton is a Christian, but I guess she is no better than Mrs.
Brookley, and _she_ isn't. There's Ester; she's a member of the
church."

"And do you see as she gets on any better with her religion, than you
do without it? For _my_ part, I think you are considerably pleasanter
to deal with."

Sadie laughed. "We're no more alike than a bee and a butterfly, or any
other useless little thing," she said, brightly. "But you're very much
mistaken if you think I'm the best. Mother would lie down in despair
and die, and this house would come to naught at once, if it were not
for Ester."

Mr. Arnett shrugged his shoulders. "I _always_ liked butterflies
better than bees," he said. "Bees _sting_."

"Harry," said Sadie, speaking more gravely, "I'm afraid you're almost
an infidel."

"If I'm not, I can tell you one thing--it's not the fault of
Christians."

Mrs. Holland tossed her letters down to him from the piazza above, and
Mr. Arnett went away.

Florence Vane came over from the cottage across the way--came with
slow, feeble steps, and sat down in the door beside her friend.
Presently Ester came out to them:

"Sadie, can't you go to the office for me? I forgot to send this
letter with the rest."

"Yes," said Sadie. "That is if you think you can go that little bit,
Florence."

"I shall think for her," Dr. Van Anden said, coming down the stairs.
"Florence out here to-night, with the dew falling, and