"Don't go," said Emma, "unless you choose to be by yourself. Sit down here just a minute. I have queer thoughts about this milk; and since we are all alone, I will tell you what they are. You read the Bible, Ma—,—I mean Miss Palmer?"

"Yes; but call me Mary, if you please. I am not used to being called
Miss."

"Well then, Mary dear," said Emma, drawing closer to her, as they sat upon the log, "you remember where the Bible speaks of the sincere milk of the word" Mary smiled; for she was much pleased, and a little surprised. Mrs. Lindsay and her family, with their Sabbath rides and evening dancing parties, were not of course considered religious people. "What do you suppose," continued Emma, "is meant by the sincere milk of the word?"

"When a very little girl," replied Mary, "father bought me a small book called 'Milk for Babes,' and said it was for children who wanted to learn the first principles of the doctrine of Christ. That little book was all about charity."

"Was it?" said Emma, with animation, "how strange that I should have the same thoughts, without knowing anything about it! When you gave me this milk I thought of that passage, and of the one about the cup of cold water; and now, Mary, please to say why you took all this pains for me. Was it just to be polite?"

"No," replied Mary, smiling; "I was afraid that you might think me im-polite for offering you milk in a tin dipper, but I saw you looking pale and tired, and thought that it might do you good."

"That was giving it to me in the name of a disciple," said Emma, in a low voice, looking at the milk again, as though it was now hallowed and blessed of God. "It is delicious," said she, taking the cup from her lips, "and I feel better. I am not so weary; my head aches less, and my heart is refreshed."

"Then I have not lost my reward," said Mary. "But here come Fanny and Alice. They are very entertaining, and the day will be less tedious if you can manage to keep with them. Fanny is plain spoken, but people call her a good-hearted girl; and Alice is so funny."

"If you please," replied Emma, "I had rather be with you. I am not afraid of plain-spoken people, if they are kind. Dora is very careful to tell me my faults, but then her manner is such that I can't help feeling that it is because she loves me so well; so I am neither pained nor vexed. I used to be very partial to funny people; but I feel serious now nearly all of the time. I can love Fanny and Alice; but, Mary dear, I had rather be with you, if you please."

"O," replied Mary, "I love to have you with me."