"I know Squire Elderkin," says Mr. Handby, meditatively,—"a clever man, and a forehanded man, very. It's a rich parish, son-in-law; they ought to do well by you."
"I don't like," says Mr. Johns, "to look at what may become my spiritual duty in that light."
"I wouldn't," returned Mr. Handby; "but when you are as old as I am, son-in-law, you'll know that we have to keep a kind of side-look upon the good things of this world,—else we shouldn't be placed in it."
"He heareth the young ravens when they cry," said the minister, gravely.
"Just it," says Mr. Handby; "but I don't want your young ravens to be crying."
At which Rachel, with the slightest possible suffusion of color, and a pretty affectation of horror, said,—
"Now, papa!"
There was an interuption here, and the conclave broke up; but Rachel, stepping briskly to the place she loved so well, beside the minister, said, softly,—
"I hope you'll go, Benjamin; and do, please, preach that beautiful sermon on Revelations."