. His manners are perfect. I was only making
that same remark to Deborah this morning. Yes, I knew only one other
whose manners could compare with your John Johnstone's, Betty--only
one."

Mary Jones sighed deeply and looked down. Betty gently pressed her hand.

Hitherto she had always laughed at her friend's tender recollections;
now, it seemed to her that her eyes were opened to her former cruelty.

But Mistress Mary was too much interested to waste too much time even on
such reflections.

"You must tell me all, dear," she said. "What is his family? Has he
parents living, brothers and sisters? Is his fortune assured?"

"Ah, there is some little difficulty there," answered Betty, her face
falling a little. "He has no parents, no friends, no kindred; he is all
alone in the wide world. And as for his fortune, that is assured, but it
is somehow mysteriously bound up in trusts--I know not what--he has no
papers to show my father, he asks for perfect confidence."

Mistress Mary was a prudent woman. She pursed up her lips and uttered a
little sound expressive of discontent.

"Dear Betty," she said, "it is doubtless a very good thing to be in love
with a stranger romantically, but still--"

"He is no stranger," said Betty quickly.

"No, no, not to be called a stranger," cried Mary, laughing--"an old and
valued friend of two months' standing."

"The time is short," said Betty thoughtfully. "But a whole lifetime
seems to have passed in that space! My father," she cried, as Mr. Ives
entered the room, "here is Mistress Mary Jones."

"Come to offer my warmest good wishes," said the lady, "and also all the
assistance in my power when the important day approaches."

"I shall indeed be glad and grateful for your help," said Betty
affectionately.

Mr. Ives persuaded Mary to remain for supper. The candles were brought
in, and the room looked bright and cheery.

"Stay with me and cheer my loneliness," said the parson cheerily. "The
young folk will stroll in the garden till supper be ready. I am too old
for dewy twilight walks, egad."

Was it a new idea that flashed into Mary's mind that caused her to
start? She glanced at Mr. Ives' comely person, at his glossy cassock,
his smartly-buckled shoes, at the neat tie-wig which surmounted a face
which she hastily pronounced as handsome as it ever had been.

With a sweep of her fan Mistress Mary renounced her waning youth.

"Stay with you!" she cried, "that will I! and you a