in
great misery."

Brother George nodded. "That is good; He works in a mysterious
way--she's real miserable, is she? Well, well; that's good. The mercies
of the Lord are everlasting," he ended, in a satisfied voice, and began
to read again.

"Amen!--amen!" said Brother William, vaguely.

"Poor Lydy!" Brother Nathan murmured.

"And I had another letter," the Eldress proceeded, "from that young
woman who came here in August--Athalia Hall; do you remember?--she asked
two questions to the minute! She wants to visit us."

Brother Nathan looked at her over his spectacles, and one of the sisters
opened her eyes.

"I don't see why she should," Eldress Hannah added.

Two of the old brothers nodded agreement.

"The curiosity of the world's people does not help their souls," said
one of the knitters.

"She thinks we walk in the Way to Peace," said the Eldress.

"Yee; we do," said Brother George.

"Shall I tell her 'nay'?" the Eldress questioned, calmly.

"Yee," said Brother George; and the dozing sisters murmured "Yee."

"Wait," said Brother Nathan; "her husband--HE has something to him. Let
her come."

"But if she visited us, how would that affect him?" Eldress Hannah
asked, surprised into faint animation.

"If she was moved to stay it would affect him," Brother Nathan said,
dryly; "he would come, too, and there are very few of us left, Eldress.
He would be a great gain."

There was a long silence. Brother William's gray head sagged on his
shoulder, and the hymn-book slipped from his gnarled old hands. The
knitting sisters began, one after another, to stab their needles into
their balls of gray yarn and roll their work up in their aprons.

"It's getting late, Eldress," one of them said, and glanced at the
clock.

"Then I'll tell her she may come?" said Eldress Hannah, reluctantly.

"He can make the wrath of man to praise Him," Brother Nathan encouraged
her.

"Yee; but I never heard that He could make the foolishness of woman do
it," the old woman said, grimly.

As the brothers and sisters parted at the door of the sitting-room
Brother Nathan plucked at the Eldress's sleeve; "Is she very
wretched--Lydia? Where is she now, Eldress? Poor Lydy! poor little
Lydy!"

The fortnight of Athalia's absence wore greatly upon her husband.
Apprehension lurked in the back of his mind. In the mill, or out on the
farm, or when he sat down among his shabby, old, calf-skin books, he was
assailed by the memory of all