Burbank.--"Good-night, Mrs. Baxter."

"Oh, no! I shall be back by half-past six, and I shall not work long. Do
you know what I believe I'll do, Mrs. Burbank, just through the holidays?
Christmas and New Year's both coming on Sunday this year, there'll be a
great many out to church, not counting the strangers that'll come to the
special service to-morrow. Instead of putting down my own pew carpet
that'll never be noticed here in the back, I'll lay it in the old Peabody
pew, for the red aisle-strip leads straight up to it; the ministers
always go up that side, and it does look forlorn."

"That's so! And all the more because my pew, that's exactly opposite in
the left wing, is new carpeted and cushioned," replied the president. "I
think it's real generous of you, Nancy, because the Riverboro folks,
knowing that you're a member of the carpet committee, will be sure to
notice, and think it's queer you haven't made an effort to carpet your
own pew."

"Never mind!" smiled Nancy wearily. "Riverboro folks never go to bed on
Saturday nights without wondering what Edgewood is thinking about them!"

The minister's wife stood at her window watching Nancy as she passed the
parsonage.

"How wasted! How wasted!" she sighed. "Going home to eat her lonely
supper and feed 'Zekiel . . . I can bear it for the others, but not for
Nancy . . . Now she has lighted her lamp, now she has put fresh pine on
the fire, for new smoke comes from the chimney. Why should I sit down
and serve my dear husband, and Nancy feed 'Zekiel?"