s memory, and a few old friends
dropped over her a tear of affection and regret. But there was no
bitter weeping--no painful sense of loss in any heart because she had
gone.

David sat in the church, and walked to the grave, and came back again to
the empty house, with the same strange, bewildered sense upon him of
having been through it all before. It clung to him still, as one after
another of the neighbours came dropping in. He sat among them, and
heard their eager whispers, and saw their curious and expectant looks,
and vaguely wondered what else was going to happen that they were
waiting to see.

Debby and her sister were in the other room, seemingly making
preparations for tea; and once Debby came and looked in at the door,
with a motion as if she were counting to see how many places might be
needed, and by and by Serepta came and looked, too, and David got very
tired of it all. His mother had gone up-stairs when she first came in,
and he went in search of her.

"Mamma, I wish we could have gone home to-night," said he, when, in
answer to his knock, she had opened the door.

"It was late, dear, and Mr Bethune said he would like to see me before
we went away."

"About the books, mamma? I wish I knew about them."

"You will know soon. I have no doubt they will be yours, as Miss Bethia
intimated before we left them here. There may be some condition."

"I wonder what all the people are waiting for? Are you not very tired,
mamma? Debby is getting tea ready."

Debby came in at the moment to make the same announcement.

"Tea is ready now," said she. "I'd as lief get tea for the whole town
once in a while as not. But it ain't this tea they're waiting for, and
if I was them I'd go."

"What are they waiting for?" asked David.

"Don't you know? Oh, I suppose it's to show good-will. Folks generally
do at such times. But I'll ring the tea-bell, and that'll scare some of
them home may be. Some of them'll have to wait till the second table,
if they all stay, that's one thing. And I hope they'll think they've
heard enough to pay them before they go."

They did not hear very much, certainly. Mr Bethune from Singleton was
there, but the interest of the occasion was not in his hands. Deacon
Spry had it all his own way, and opened and read with great deliberation
a paper which had been committed to him. It was not Miss Bethia's will,
as every one hoped it might be, but it was a paper written by her h