it isn't done very thoroughly," said
Mrs. Somers. "But Pattaquasset's growing up into a novel--last week
furnished with a hero, and this week with a heroine,--the course of
things can't run smooth now. So we may all look out for breakers--of
horses, I hope, among other things."

"Oh aunt Ellen!"--was Miss Harrison's not gratified comment on this
speech.

"I hope Mrs. Somers don't mean that we are to look out for breakers of
hearts, among the other things," said Mr. Somers.

"Look out for them? to be sure!" said Miss Harrison;--"always and
everywhere. What would the world be without them?"

"The world would not be heart-broken," said Mrs. Somers. "Faith--which
of you came to first? who picked you up?"

"I don't know, Mrs. Somers. Sam Stoutenburgh was passing just at the
time and Dr. Harrison called him. I don't know who picked me up."

"Sam Stoutenburgh!" said Mrs. Somers,--"well, he's made, if nobody else
is! He'll bless Julius for the rest of his life for giving him such a
chance. Do you know how that boy watches you, Faith?--I mean to speak
to Mr. Linden about it the very first time I see him."

Something in this speech called forth Faith's colour. She had spoken
Sam's name herself with the simplest unchanging face; but now the
flushes came and came abundantly.

"I don't know what good that would do, Mrs. Somers."

"Nor I--till I try," said the lady smiling at her. "But if the mere
suggestion is so powerful, what may not the reality do? I'll say one
thing for Mr. Linden--he makes all those boys come into church and get
seated before the service begins--which nobody else ever did yet; if
they ever tried. I was curious to see how it would be last Sunday when
he wasn't there--but they were more punctual than ever. It's quite a
comfort--if there's anything I do hate to see, it's a troop of men and
boys outside the door when they ought to be in. What are you afraid
he'll say to Sam, Faith?"

Faith's eyes were looking down. The question brought them up, and then
her smile was as frank as her blushes had been. "I am not afraid he'll
say anything, Mrs. Somers."

"I don't know why he should, my dear," said Mr. Somers. "We all like to
use our eyes--you can't very well blame a boy."

"O Mr. Somers!" said his wife--with that air which a woman puts on when
she says she believes, what she wouldn't for the world say _if_ she
believed,--"of course you think that! Don't I know how you broke your
heart after a green vei