t beat the quicker for
sheer delight. But it might have been a stone wall for anything poor
Emmy, who loved each growing thing, saw in it this moment. To live
without Bert, perhaps to learn that Susy Baker had the love which she
would seem to have flung away--Emmy would have groaned if she had not
heard Mrs. Darter's piteous din, and thought grimly that her mother did
enough groaning for their small family!

Yet at this very instant of despair a minister of grace was lifting the
latch of the Darter gate, and Emmy was unconsciously eying her. The
minister of grace was short of stature and very plump. She had a round,
fair, freckled face, which looked the rounder for its glittering
spectacles. Her hair was a yellowish gray, but she covered it with a
small white sailor hat. She wore a neat brown and white calico frock. To
escape the dew she held her skirts high; one could see that her
preference was for black alpaca slippers and white cotton stockings. The
minister's name was Miss Ann Bigelow.

"Now _she_ comes to stir mother up worse!" thought Emmy. So blind are we
to the future. But she opened the door for Miss Ann Bigelow, and bade
her welcome, and proffered her the best rocking-chair in the parlor and
a palm-leaf fan.

Miss Bigelow's countenance was beaming like an electric light.

"I really _had_ to come!" she exclaimed so soon as she could take
breath. "Have you heard about Mrs. Conner spraining her ankle?"

"Emmy, open the door!" moaned Mrs. Darter from within--her bed-room
adjoined the parlor. Emmy opened the door, while she said: "I'm so
sorry. When? How is she?"

"Oh, she's all right now!" said Miss Bigelow. "It's wonderful--a real
miracle, I told sister. That's what I came to tell you. She sent over
for us, and there she lay, flat on the kitchen floor. I begun to treat
her in my mind the minute I saw her, for I saw she was in error. All her
word was: 'Send for a doctor; it's sprained, if it ain't broke!' I
didn't know what _to_ do. I didn't want to encourage her in error, and
yet you know we are _not_ advanced so far as sprains and broken bones,
and it is usual to summon a doctor; and I don't feel I'm advanced enough
myself to undertake serious cases; I'm too weak and timid, and I haven't
the spiritual vision. Emmy, does your mother _always_ groan that loud
way? Is she in pain? I mean, does she _think_ she is in pain?"

"Yes'm," said Emmy; "but please go on; mother is listening."

"Well, I stood there d