be allowed to go int' the ministry; for you can't love your brother whom
you hev seen with that kind of an eye, and how are you goin' to love the
Lord whom you hev not seen?"

Mr. Southwick, who was a spare little man in a long linen duster that
looked as if it had not been in the water as often as its wearer, sat
down timidly on the settle and cleared his throat.

"I've come to talk with you on a little matter of business, Miss
Cummins. Brother Slocum has--a--conferred with me on the subject of
a--a--couple of unfortunate children who have--a--strayed, as it were,
under your hospitable roof, and whom--a--you are properly anxious to
place--a--under other rooves, as it were. Now you are aware, perhaps,
that Mrs. Southwick and I have no children living, though we have at
times had our quivers full of them--a--as the Scripture says; but the
Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away. Blessed be the name of the Lord,
however, that is--a--neither here nor there. Brother Slocum has so
interested us that my wife (who is leading the Woman's Auxiliary Praying
Legion this afternoon or she would have come herself) wishes me to say
that she would like to receive one of these--a--little waifs into our
family on probation, as it were, and if satisfactory to both parties, to
bring it up--a--somewhat as our own, in the nurture and admonition of
the Lord."

Samantha waited, in breathless suspense. Miss Vilda never would fling
away an opportunity of putting a nameless, homeless child under the roof
of a minister of the Gospel, even if he was a Baptist, with a chiny blue
eye.

At this exciting juncture there was a clatter of small feet; the door