ld-fashioned.

"How funny!" said Lina when she came to the end.

"Funny!" exclaimed Miss Madeline, with a trace of indignation in her
gentle voice.

"Oh, I didn't mean that the letter was funny," Lina hastened to
explain, "only that, as you said, it is odd to think of it coming so
soon after our talk."

But this was a little fib on Lina's part. She _had_ thought that the
letter or, rather, the fact that it had been written to Miss Madeline,
funny. The Rev. Cecil Thorne was Miss Madeline's pastor. He was a
handsome, scholarly man of middle age, and Lina had seen a good deal
of him during her summer in Lower Wentworth. She had taught the infant
class in Sunday School and sometimes she had thought that the minister
was in love with her. But she must have been mistaken, she reflected;
it must have been her aunt after all, and the Rev. Cecil Thorne's
shyly displayed interest in her must have been purely professional.

"What a goose I was to be afraid he was in love with me!" she thought.
Aloud she said, "He says he will call tomorrow evening to receive your
answer."

"And, oh, what can I say to him?" murmured Miss Madeline in dismay.
She wished she had a little of Lina's experience.

"You are going to--you will accept him, won't you?" asked Lina
curiously.

"Oh, my dear, no!" cried Miss Madeline almost vehemently. "I couldn't
think of such a thing. I am very sorry; do you think he will feel
badly?"

"Judging from his letter I feel sure he will," said Lina decidedly.

Miss Madeline sighed. "Oh, dear me! It is very unpleasant. But of
course I must refuse him. What a beautiful letter he writes too. I
feel very much disturbed by this."

Miss Madeline picked up Thomas a Kempis, smoothed him out repentantly,
and placed the letter between his leaves.

* * * * *

When the Rev. Cecil Thorne called at the old Churchill place next
evening at sunset and asked for Miss Madeline Churchill, Amelia showed
him into the parlour and went to call her mistress. Mr. Thorne sat
down by the window that looked out on the lawn. His heart gave a bound
as he caught a glimpse of an airy white muslin among the trees and a
ripple of distant laughter. The next minute Lina appeared, strolling
down the secluded path that curved about the birches. A young man was
walking beside her with his arm around her. They crossed the green
square before the house and disappeared in the rose garden.

Mr. Thorne leaned bac