aid them because she was
stirred to unwonted reverence. As for Lois, she rose up comforted and
strengthened, as no special prayers of Pastor Tappau had ever made her
feel. But Faith was sobbing, sobbing aloud, almost hysterically, and
made no effort to rise, but lay on her outstretched arms spread out
upon the settle. Lois and Pastor Nolan looked at each other for an
instant. Then Lois said:

'Sir, you must go. My cousin has not been strong for some time, and
doubtless she needs more quiet than she has had to-day.'

Pastor Nolan bowed, and left the house; but in a moment he returned.
Half opening the door, but without entering, he said:

'I come back to ask, if perchance I may call this evening to inquire
how young Mistress Hickson finds herself?'

But Faith did not hear this; she was sobbing louder than ever.

'Why did you send him away, Lois? I should have been better directly,
and it is so long since I have seen him.'

She had her face hidden as she uttered these words, and Lois could not
hear them distinctly. She bent her head down by her cousin's on the
settle, meaning to ask her to repeat what she had said. But in the
irritation of the moment, and prompted possibly by some incipient
jealousy, Faith pushed Lois away so violently that the latter was hurt
against the hard, sharp corner of the wooden settle. Tears came into
her eyes; not so much because her cheek was bruised, as because of the
surprised pain she felt at this repulse from the cousin towards whom
she was feeling so warmly and kindly. Just for the moment, Lois was as
angry as any child could have been; but some of the words of Pastor
Nolan's prayer yet rang in her ears, and she thought it would be a
shame if she did not let them sink into her heart. She dared not,
however, stoop again to caress Faith, but stood quietly by her,
sorrowfully waiting, until a step at the outer door caused Faith to
rise quickly, and rush into the kitchen, leaving Lois to bear the brunt
of the new-comer. It was Manasseh, returned from hunting. He had been
two days away, in company with other young men belonging to Salem. It
was almost the only occupation which could draw him out of his secluded
habits. He stopped suddenly at the door on seeing Lois, and alone, for
she had avoided him of late in every possible way.

'Where is my mother?'

'At a prayer meeting at Pastor Tappau's. She has taken Prudence. Faith
has left the room this minute. I will call her.' And Lois was