not understand me," said Lois; "and yet it is true. If you
are Christ's--then, 'all things are yours;... the world, or life, or
_death_, or things present, or things to come: all are yours.' There is
no loss, but there comes more gain."

"I wish you'd let Mr. Dillwyn have some more oysters," said Charity;
"and, Madge, do hand along Mrs. Barclay's cup. You mustn't talk, if you
can't eat at the same time. Lois ain't Solomon yet, if she does preach.
You shut up, Lois, and mind your supper. My rule is, to enjoy things as
I go along; and just now, it's oysters."

"I will say for Lois," here put in Mrs. Barclay, "that she does
exemplify her own principles. I never knew anybody with such a spring
of perpetual enjoyment."

"She ain't happier than the rest of us," said the elder sister.

"Not so happy as grandmother," added Madge. "At least, grandmother
would say so. I don't know."

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

BREAKING UP.

Mr. Dillwyn went away. Things returned to their normal condition at
Shampuashuh, saving that for a while there was a great deal of talk
about the Santa Clans doings and the principal actor in them, and no
end of speculations as to his inducements and purposes to be served in
taking so much trouble. For Shampuashuh people were shrewd, and did not
believe, any more than King Lear, that anything could come of nothing.
That he was _not_ moved by general benevolence, poured out upon the
school of the white church, was generally agreed. "What's we to him?"
asked pertinently one of the old ladies; and vain efforts were made to
ascertain Mr. Dillwyn's denomination. "For all I kin make out, he
hain't got none," was the declaration of another matron. "I don't
b'lieve he's no better than he should be." Which was ungrateful, and
hardly justified Miss Charity's prognostications of enduring fame; by
which, of course, she meant good fame. Few had seen Mr. Dillwyn
undisguised, so that they could give a report of him; but Mrs. Marx
assured them he was "a real personable man; nice and plain, and takin'
no airs. She liked him first-rate."

"Who's he after? Not one o' your gals?"

"Mercy, no! He, indeed! He's one of the high-flyers; he won't come to
Shampuashuh to look for a wife. 'Seems to me he's made o' money; and
he's been everywhere; he's fished for crocodiles in the Nile, and eaten
his luncheon at the top of the Pyramids of Egypt, and sailed to the
North Pole to be sure of cool lemonade in summer. _He_ won't