he little sideboard were pushed about;
everything seemed to be at a loss until Susy peremptorily took the
duster out of Tom's hand and reduced chaos to order. Then the tea was
unpacked. A very white cloth from Mrs. Hopkins's most precious store was
produced; real silver spoons--from the same source--made their
appearance; a few cups and saucers of good old china were added. The
table looked, as Tom expressed it, "very genteel." Then the provisions
were placed upon the board.

"Now we are ready," said Mrs. Church; "and I must say," she added, "that
I am pleased. I have known good genteel living in my lifetime, and I
expect that Providence means me to know it again before I die. Susy and
Tom, you are both good children. You have your spice of wickedness in
you, but when all is said and done you mean well, and I may as well
promise you both now that when I get to Ireland I will have you over in
the holidays. You will enjoy that--won't you, Thomas?"

"See if I don't, Aunt Church. And I always was your own boy, wasn't I?
And you won't mind, old lady--say you won't mind--leaving me the
microscope when you cross the briny? I'm fairly taken with that
microscope. I dream of it at night, and think of it every minute of the
day."

"Come here and look me in the eyes, Tom," said Mrs. Church.

Tom went over. Out of his freckled face there beamed two honest
light-blue eyes. His forehead was broad and slightly bulgy; his carroty
hair was cut short to his head. Mrs. Church raised her wrinkled old hand
and laid it for a minute on Tom's forehead.

"You resemble your great-uncle, my husband," she said. "He was the
cleverest man I ever came across. He had a real turn for the
microscope."

"Then, of course, you will leave it behind you; of course you will give
it to me," said Tom, quite triumphant with eagerness.

"No, my boy, that I won't. If you are a good boy, and do me credit, and
get on with your books, and do well in that calling which Providence
means you to work in, why, I may leave it to you when I am called hence,
Tom."

"There, Tom!" said Susy, coming forward. "Don't worry Aunt Church any
more. She's got plenty to think about.--Won't you turn him out now, Aunt
Church? It is time for you to be dressing, you know."

"So it is," said Mrs. Church, looking round her in some alarm. "Whatever
is the hour, child?"

"It is going on for six o'clock; and they will be here at half-past
seven at the latest."

"Very well," said T