a single person. When we go to see him, we do not
expect that any change will be made out of deference to our
prejudices or peculiar opinions; and when he comes to see us, he
must be willing to tolerate what takes place in our family, even if
it does not meet his full approval. No, no; let us not think for a
moment of any change in affairs on this account. Uncle Archer hasn't
been present at a gay party nor seen dancing for almost half a
century. It may do him good to witness it now. At any rate, I feel
curious to see the experiment tried."

Mrs. Arlington still argued for a little yielding in favour of the
good parson's prejudices, but her husband would not listen to such a
thing for a moment. Every thing, he said, must go on as usual.

"A guest who comes into a family," he remarked, "should always
conform himself to the family order; then there is no reaction upon
him, and all are comfortable and happy. He is not felt as a thing
foreign and incongruous, but as homogeneous. To break up the usual
order, and to bend all to meet his personal prejudices and
peculiarities, is only to so disturb the family sphere as to make it
actually repellent. He is then felt as an unassimilated foreign
body, and all secretly desire his removal."

"But something is due to old age!" urged Mrs. Arlington.

"Yes; much. But, if age have not softened a man's prejudices against
a good thing in itself, I doubt very much if a deference to his
prejudice, such as you propose, will in the least benefit him.
Better let him come in contact with a happy circle, exhilarated by
music and dancing; and the chances are, that his heart will melt in
the scene rather than grow colder and harder. The fact is, as I
think of it more and more, the better pleased am I that Uncle Archer
is coming just at this time."

But Mrs. Arlington felt troubled about the matter. Early on
Christmas morning, the old gentleman arrived, and was welcomed with
sincere affection by every member of the family. Mr. and Mrs.
Arlington had a daughter, named Grace, who was just entering her
eighteenth year. She was gentle and affectionate in disposition, and
drew to the side of Uncle Archer in a way that touched the old man's
feelings. He had not seen her before this, since she was a little
girl; and now, he could not keep his eyes off of her as she sat by
him, or moved about the room in his presence.

"What a dear girl that is!" was his remark to her mother, many times
through the