directions in the Bible study she was taking up. She lounged in her
hammock as he returned home from pastoral calls, and stopped him for
little chats. David was her pastor, she was one of his flock.

But Carol screwed up her face before the mirror and frowned.

"David," she said to herself, when a glance from her window revealed
David leaning over Mrs. Waldemar's hammock half a block away, doubtless
in the scriptural act of explaining an intricate passage of Revelation
to the dark-eyed sheep,--"David is as good as an angel, and as innocent
as a baby. Two very good traits of course, but dangerous,
tre-men-dous-ly dangerous. Goodness and innocence make men wax in
women's hands." Carol, for all her youth, had acquired considerable
shrewdness in her life-time acquaintance with the intricacies of
parsonage life.

She looked from her window again. "There's the--the--the dark-eyed
Jezebel." She glanced fearfully about, to see if David might be near
enough to hear the word. What on earth would he think of the manse
lady calling one of his sheep a Jezebel? "Well, David," she said to
herself decidedly, "God gave you a wife for some purpose, and I'm slick
if I haven't much brains." And she shook a slender fist at her image
in the mirror and went back to setting the table.

David was talkative that evening. "You haven't seen much of Mrs.
Waldemar, have you, dear? People here don't think much Of her. She is
very advanced,--too advanced, of course. But she is very broad, and
kind. She is well educated, too, and for one who has had no training,
she grasps Bible truths in a most remarkable way. She has never had
the proper guidance, that's the worst of it. With a little wise