tention on the service. This happened very seldom, however;
and when it did, was owing to an unfortunate drying day or other
accident, and never to want of exertion on her own part.

There was nothing to complain of in the weather this morning--a bright
sun and a nice bit of wind, and not too much of it. Mrs White wrung
out the surplices in a very cheerful spirit, and her grave face had a
smile on it now and then, for she was thinking of Lilac. Lilac
sweetened all her life now, much in the same way that the bunch of
flowers from which she took her name had sweetened the small room with
its fragrance twelve years ago. As she grew up her mother's love grew
too, stronger year by year; for when she looked at her she remembered
all the happiness that her life had known--when she spoke her name, it
brought back a thousand pleasant memories and kept them fresh in her
mind. And she looked forward too, for Lilac's sake, and saw in years to
come her proudest hope fulfilled--her child grown to be a
self-respecting useful woman, who could work for herself and need be
beholden to no one. She had no higher ambition for her; but this she
had set her heart on, she should not become lazy, vain, helpless, like
her cousins the Greenways. That was the pitfall from which she would
strain every muscle to hold Lilac back. There were moments when she
trembled for the bad influence of example at Orchards Farm. She knew
Lilac's yielding affectionate nature and her great admiration for her
cousins, and kept a watchful eye for the first unsatisfactory signs.
But there were none. No one could accuse Lilac of untidy ways, or want
of thoroughness in dusting, sweeping, and all branches of household
work, and even Mrs White could find no fault. "After all," she said to
herself, "it's natural in young things to like to be together, and
there's nothing worse nor foolishness in Agnetta and Bella." So she
allowed the visits to go on, and contented herself by many a word in
season and many a pointed practical lesson. The Greenways were seldom
mentioned, but they were, nevertheless, very often in the minds of both
mother and daughter.

This morning she was thinking of a much more pleasant subject. "How was
the artist gentleman getting along with Lilac's picture? He must be
well at it now," she thought, looking up at the loud-voiced American
clock, "an' her looking as peart and pretty as a daisy. White-faced
indeed! I'd rather she were white