to-night?" and he met her in the hall with outstretched hands.

"Hetty, my dear, what is it?" he exclaimed, in a tone of anxiety. "Oh!"
said Hetty, earnestly. "I have frightened you, haven't I? was it wrong
for me to come to-night? There are so many things I want to talk over
with you. I want to get settled; and all the work on the farm is
belated: and I can't have the place run behindhand; that would worry
father so."

The tears stood in her eyes, but she spoke in as matter-of-course a tone
as if she had simply come as her father's messenger to ask advice. The
old deacon pushed his spectacles high upon his forehead, and, throwing
his head back, looked at Hetty a moment, scrutinizingly, in silence.
Then, he said, half to himself, half to her,--

"You're your grandfather all over, Hetty. Now let me know what I can
help you about. You can always come to me, as long as I 'm alive, Hetty.
You know that."

"Yes," said Hetty, walking back and forth in the little room, rapidly.
"You are the only person I shall ever ask any thing of in that way."

"Sit down, Hetty, sit down," said the old man. "You must be all worn
out."

"Oh, no! I 'm not tired: I was never tired in my life," replied Hetty.
"Let me walk: it does me good to walk; I walked nearly all last night;
it seems to be something to do. You see, Mr. Little," she said,--pausing
suddenly, and folding her arms on her breast, as she looked at him,--
"I don't quite see my way clear yet; and one must see one's way clear