been created without ways, then," she retorted. "They'd better have
been created slaves; they'd been enough sight happier an' better off,
an' so would other folks that they have to do with, than to have so
many ways, an' not sense enough to manage 'em. I don't believe in
free-will, for my part."

"Sylvy Crane, you ain't goin' to deny one of the doctrines of the
Church at your time of life?" demanded a new voice. Sylvia's other
sister, Hannah Berry, stood in the doorway.

Sylvia ordinarily was meek before her, but now she faced her. "Yes, I
be," said she; "I don't approve of free-will, and I ain't afraid to
say it."

Sylvia had always been considered very unlike Mrs. Hannah Berry in
face and character. Now, as she stood before her, a curious
similarity appeared; even her voice sounded like her sister's.

"What on earth ails you, Sylvy?" asked Mrs. Berry, ignoring suddenly
the matter in hand.

"Nothin' ails me that I know of. I don't think much of free-will, an'
I ain't goin' to say I do when I don't."

"Then all I've got to say is you'd ought to be ashamed of yourself.
Why, I should think you was crazy, Sylvy Crane, settin' up yourself
agin' the doctrines of the Word. I'd like to know what you know about
them."

"I know enough to see how they work," returned Sylvia, undauntedly,