Nobody

"Well, every place has its sort," said Charity. "Our sort is religious.I don't know whether we're any better than other folks, but we'rereligious; and your men of accomplishments ain't, be they?"

"Depends on what you mean by religious."

"Well, I mean godly. Lois won't ever marry any but a godly man."

"I hope not!" said Mrs. Armadale.

"She won't," said Charity; "but you had better talk to Madge, mother.I am not so sure of her. Lois is safe."

"'The fashion of this world passeth away,'" said the old lady, with agravity which was yet sweet; "'but the word of the Lord endureth forever.'"

Mrs. Barclay was now silent. This morning, contrary to her usual wont, she kept her place at the table, though the meal was finished. She wascurious to see the ways of the household, and felt herself familiarenough with the family to venture to stay. Charity began to gather hercups.

"Did you give aunt Anne's invitation? Hand along the plates, Madge, andcarry your butter away. We've been for ever eating breakfast."

"Talking," said Mrs. Barclay, with a smile.

"Talking's all very well, but I think one thing at a time is enough. Itis as much as most folks can attend to. Lois, do give me the plates; and give your invitation."

"Aunt Anne wants us all to come and take tea with her to-night," saidLois; "and she sent her compliments to Mrs. Barclay, and a message thatshe would be very glad to see her with the rest of us."

"I am much obliged, and shall be very happy to go."

"'Tain't a party," said Charity, who was receiving plates and knivesand forks from Lois's hand, and making them elaborately ready forwashing; while Madge went back and forth clearing the table of theremains of the meal. "It's nothin' but to go and take our tea thereinstead of here. We save the trouble of gettin' it ready, and have thetrouble of going; that's our side; and what aunt Anne has for her sideshe knows best herself. I guess she's proud of her sweetmeats."

Mrs. Barclay smiled again. "It seems parties are much the same thing, wherever they are given," she said.

"This ain't a party," repeated Charity. Madge had now brought a tub ofhot water, and the washing up of the breakfast dishes was undertaken byLois and Charity with a despatch and neatness and celerity which thelooker-on had never seen equalled.

"Parties do not seem to be Shampuashuh fashion," she remarked. "I havenot heard of any since I have been here."

"No," said Charity. "We have more sense."

"I am not sure that it shows sense," remarked Lois, carrying off a pileof clean hot plates to the cupboard.

"What's the use of 'em?" said the elder sister.

"Cultivation of friendly feeling," suggested Mrs. Barclay.

"If folks ain't friendly already, the less they see of one another thebetter they'll agree," said Charity.

"Miss Charity, I am afraid you do not love your fellow-creatures," said

Mrs. Barclay, much amused.

"As well as they love me, I guess," said Charity.

"Mrs. Armadale," said Mrs. Barclay, appealing to the old lady who satin her corner knitting as usual, – "do not these opinions require somecorrection?"

"Charity speaks what she thinks," said Mrs. Armadale, scratching behindher ear with the point of her needle, as she was very apt to do whencalled upon.

"But that is not the right way to think, is it?"

"It's the natural way," said the old lady. "It is only the fruit of theSpirit that is 'love, joy, peace.' 'Tain't natural to love what youdon't like."

"What you don't like! no," said Mrs. Barclay; "that is a pitch of love

I never dreamed of."

"'If ye love them that love you, what thank have ye?'" said the oldlady quietly.

"Mother's off now," said Charity; "out of anybody's understanding. Onewould think I was more unnatural than the rest of folks!"

"She said you were more natural, thats all," said Lois, with a slysmile.

The talk ceased. Mrs. Barclay looked on for a few minutes more, marvelling to see the quick dexterity with which everything was done bythe two girls; until the dishes were put away, the tcib and towels weregone, the table was covered with its brown cloth, a few crumbs werebrushed from the carpet; and Charity disappeared in one direction andLois in another. Mrs. Barclay herself withdrew to her room and her thoughts.

CHAPTER XXIV

THE CARPENTER

The day was a more than commonly busy one, so that the usual hours oflessons in Mrs. Barclay's room did not come off. It was not till latein the afternoon that Lois went to her friend, to tell her that Mrs.Marx would send her little carriage in about an hour to fetch hermother, and that Mrs. Barclay also might ride if she would. Mrs.Barclay was sitting in her easy-chair before the fire, doing nothing, and on receipt of this in formation turned a very shadowed face towardsthe bringer of it.

"What will you say to me, if after all your aunt's kindness in askingme, I do not go?"

"Not go? You are not well?" inquired Lois anxiously.

"I am quite well – too well!"

"But something is the matter?"

"Nothing new."

"Dear Mrs. Barclay, can I help you?"

"I do not think you can. I am tired, Lois!"

"Tired! O, that is spending so much time giving lessons to Madge andme! I am so sorry."

"It is nothing of the kind," said Mrs. Barclay, stretching out her handto take one of Lois's, which she retained in her own. "If anythingwould take away this tired feeling, it is just that, Lois. Nothingrefreshes me so much, or does me so much good."

"Then what tires you, dear Mrs. Barclay?"

Lois's face showed unaffected anxiety. Mrs. Barclay gave the hand sheheld a little squeeze.

"It is nothing new, my child," she said, with a faint smile. "I amtired of life."

Looking at the girl, as she spoke, she saw how unable her listener'smind was to comprehend her. Lois looked puzzled.