minds, you know--those that hold back, and those that push forward.
My daughter and I are not pushers; we move with little steps. We
like the old, trodden paths; we like the old, old world."

"Ah," said I, "you know what you like; there is a great virtue in
that."

"Yes, we like Europe; we prefer it. We like the opportunities of
Europe; we like the REST. There is so much in that, you know. The
world seems to me to be hurrying, pressing forward so fiercely,
without knowing where it is going. 'Whither?' I often ask, in my
little quiet way. But I have yet to learn that any one can tell me."

"You're a great conservative," I observed, while I wondered whether I
myself could answer this inquiry.

Mrs. Church gave me a smile which was equivalent to a confession. "I
wish to retain a LITTLE--just a little. Surely, we have done so
much, we might rest a while; we might pause. That is all my feeling-
-just to stop a little, to wait! I have seen so many changes. I wish
to draw in, to draw in--to hold back, to hold back."

"You shouldn't hold your daughter back!" I answered, laughing and
getting up. I got up, not by way of terminating our interview, for I
perceived Mrs. Church's exposition of her views to be by no means
complete, but in order to offer a chair to Miss Aurora, who at this
moment drew near. She thanked me and remained standing, but without
at first, as I noticed, meeting her mother's eye.

"You have been engaged with your new acquaintance, my dear?" this