"Oh," said the girl. "Of course I have eyes, and I can see that you
are not writing; but I can't see your mind, or your thoughts. For all
I know, they may be simply grinding out a sermon, and today is
Saturday. I don't want to break up the meeting." She laughed.

"Come on up here," said Wesley with camaraderie. "You know I am not
doing a blessed thing. I can finish my sermon in an hour after
dinner. Come on up. The breeze is heavenly. What have you got in that
bag?"

"I," stated Fanny Dodge, mounting the steps, "have my work in my bag.
I am embroidering a center-piece which is to be sold for at least
twice its value--for I can't embroider worth a cent--at the fair."
She sat down beside him, and fished out of the bag a square of white
linen and some colored silks.

"Mrs. Black has just told me about that fair," said Wesley. "Say, do
you know, I loathe the idea of it?"

"Why? A fair is no end of fun. We always have them."

"Beggary."

"Nonsense!"

"Yes, it is. I might just as well put on some black glasses, get a
little dog with a string, and a basket, and done with it."

The girl giggled. "I know what you mean," said she, "but your salary
has to be paid, and folks have to be cajoled into handing out the