ou know what I believe I'll do, Mrs. Burbank, just through the
holidays? Christmas and New Year's both coming on Sunday this year,
there'll be a great many out to church, not counting the strangers
that'll come to the special service tomorrow. Instead of putting down my
own pew carpet that'll never be noticed here in the back, I'll lay it
in the old Peabody pew, for the red aisle-strip leads straight up to it;
the ministers always go up that side, and it does look forlorn."

"That's so! And all the more because my pew, that's exactly opposite in
the left wing, is new carpeted and cushioned," replied the president.
"I think it's real generous of you, Nancy, because the Riverboro folks,
knowing that you're a member of the carpet committee, will be sure to
notice, and think it's queer you have n't made an effort to carpet your
own pew."

"Never mind!" smiled Nancy wearily. "Riverboro folks never go to bed on
Saturday nights without wondering what Edgewood is thinking about them!"

The minister's wife stood at her window watching Nancy as she passed the
parsonage.

"How wasted! How wasted!" she sighed. "Going home to eat her lonely
supper and feed 'Zekiel.... I can bear it for the others, but not for
Nancy.... Now she has lighted her lamp,... now she has put fresh pine
on the fire, for new smoke comes from the chimney. Why should I sit down
and serve my dear husband, and Nancy feed 'Zekiel?"

There was some truth in Mrs. Baxter's feeling. Mrs. Buzzell, for
instance, had three sons; Maria Sharp was absorbed in her lame father
and her Sunday-School work; and Lobelia Brewster would not have
considered matrimony a blessing, even under the most favorable
conditions. But Nancy was framed and planned for other things, and
'Zekiel was an insufficient channel for her soft, womanly sympathy and
her bright activity of mind and body.

'Zekiel had lost his tail in a mowing-machine; 'Zekiel had the asthma,
and the immersion of his nose in milk made him sneeze, so he was wont
to slip his paw in and out of the dish and lick it patiently for five
minutes together. Nancy often watched him pityingly, giving him kind
and gentle words to sustain his fainting spirit, but tonight she paid no
heed to him, although he sneezed violently to attract her attention.

She had put her supper on the lighted table by the kitchen window and
was pouring out her cup of tea, when a boy rapped at the door. "Here's
a paper and a letter, Miss Wentworth," he