"Here's Mr. Dillwyn don't think he's done any good, Lois!" cried her elder sister. "Do cheer him up a little. I think it's a shame to talk so. Why, we've done all we wanted to, and more. There won't a soul go away from our church or school after this, now they see what we can do; and I shouldn't wonder if we got some accessions from the other instead. And here's Mr. Dillwyn says he don't know as he's done any good!"
Lois lifted her eyes and met his, and they both smiled.
"Miss Lois sees the matter as I do," he said. "These are capital oysters. Where do they come from?"
"But, Philip," said Mrs. Barclay, "you have given a great deal of pleasure. Isn't that good?"
"Depends—" said he. "Probably it will be followed by a reaction."
"And you have kept the church together," added Charity, who was zealous.
"By a rope of sand, then, Miss Charity."
"At any rate, Mr. Dillwyn, you meant to do good," Lois put in here.
"I do not know, Miss Lois. I am afraid I was thinking more of pleasure, myself; and shall experience myself the reaction I spoke of. I think I feel the shadow of it already, as a coming event."
"But if we aren't to have any pleasure, because afterwards we feel a little flat,—and of course we do," said Charity; "everybody knows that. But, for instance, if we're not to have green peas in summer, because we can't have 'em any way but dry in winter,—things would be very queer! Queerer than they are; and they're queer enough already."