"Did you not admire the sermon?" said Flora to Ada, as, during the interval between services on Sunday, the two cousins strolled through the shrubbery.
"Mr. Ward was very earnest."
"Was he not?--and so eloquent! he is a very delightful preacher! You don't know how we missed him when he went away last winter for a few months. We had such a dreadful man, with a sepulchral voice, really, I know it was very wrong, but I could scarcely keep awake while he preached." And the young lady went on describing the messenger of the gospel in much the same terms as Ada would have used in speaking of an actor whom she did not admire.
"But Mr. Ward is so different," she said in conclusion. "I was quite delighted with his sermon; were not you?"
"To own the truth, it made me feel a little uncomfortable," replied Ada.
"That is a compliment to the preacher's power," said Flora, with a smile. "I never heard him speak more forcibly than he did to-day on the parable of the sower."
"And you were delighted with the sermon because all the last part of it belonged to yourself,--all the beautiful description of the good seed springing up."
Flora gave a little deprecating "Oh!"
"While I was wondering which part applied to me--"
"And which did you fix upon?" said Flora; she was smiling, but Ada was grave.