Under the influence of spring, sunshine and flowers, our souls give birth to new thoughts, new ambitions.

The little village store in Ashfield was buzzing. It was mail-time and the good wife of the proprietor, the post-master and mayor—in other words, the wife of the chief all-round citizen, was sorting and pigeon-holing the mail.

Around the store waited a goodly representation of the neighborhood—long, lanky workmen; fat, prosperous home-dwellers who "worked in the city," dirty little urchins with sticky hands, and pretty young girls stylishly dressed.

Quite a congregation of "American mixed," but the buzzing gave an air of congeniality which lent the impression of true democracy so typified in a Jersey village.

One young girl with roguish blue eyes sauntered up to a thin, neatly dressed elderly man, who was watching the group with a friendly smile.

"Have yer called on the new people yet, Mr. Allworth? There's a dandy young lady in the bunch. Don't let Pastor Soffy get ahead of you. We want her in our Church."

Her tone was loud enough to attract attention, and the majority suspended their buzzing.

The Methodist minister answered in a clerical tone,

"My dear Miss Bessie, I would never strive for members for our Church. Call I certainly shall, but not with the intention of robbing Mr. Soffy."

"Oh, fudge!" exclaimed Bessie, laughing, "everyone knows you'll both scramble for them!"

At this there was a general laugh, at which Mr. Allworth colored furiously.

It was plain to be seen Bessie was a privileged character.

"Stop your joshing, Bessie!" exclaimed the wife of the post-master, proprietor, and mayor. "Here's a letter for the new people. You take it up the road to them, and that'll get you acquainted."

"Sure I will!" returned Bessie with enthusiasm. "Dandy! I'll prepare the way for you, Mr. Allworth, and see that they don't get any Presbyterian ideas ahead of time!"

Mr. Allworth smiled and nodded his head.

"Yer won't git those new people and don't yer fergit it!" piped up one dirty little bare-legged urchin, sidling up to Bessie. "I spent two hours helping them clear up the lawn. Gosh! They're darn swell, all righty! Gave me a fifty. What do yer think o' that? Fifty in two hours, eh, boss?"

"Boss" shoved the ten-year old aside kindly.

"Out o' the way, Bud! Let me get behind that counter, will you? Go home and tell your mother you need sewing up. What do you know about the new people?" he asked, eyeing Bud whimsically, while he delved into the sugar tin.

"Whole lot, all righty! I told 'em I pumped the organ in Mr. Soffy's church, and ast them would they like ter see me."

The buzzing had completely stopped and all hands were at attention.

"And they said?" asked Boss Holden.

Bud swelled with the importance of delivering town news.

"They ast me what kind o' Church it was. I says, 'Sure, the kind yer pray in. What d' yer think?'"

"Good boy!" laughed Boss Holden, "And then?"

"They just laughed as though they had no sense, and guessed their kind o' Church waren't in these parts. I up and ast them what kind o' Church they wanted and they said 'Scientific.'"

"Bud, that thar waren't right nohow," spoke up John, colored chauffeur to the two rich old maids on the hill. "I heard Pastor Soffy tell my missus they war "Christian Scientissus."

"Christian Scientists!" exclaimed Mr. Allworth with dignified disapproval. "What next will come into our little town!"

"Well, I'm going to take the letter up anyway," declared Bessie. "Good-bye. I'll do my best for you, Mr. Allworth," and with this parting shot she was gone.

Up the hill walked Bessie, round, fair and rosy, with her laughing blue eyes vieing merriment with her dimpled cheeks.

Half way up the hill, she stopped at a large "homey" white house which stood about fifty feet back from the road. Its broad piazzas were simply furnished with chairs, tables, and plants, all arranged for convenience and comfort.

Bessie tripped up the few steps leading to the front door and rang the bell.

The object of her admiration, the young lady with the light brown curls, opened the door.

"Here's a letter for a Mrs. Hadly," said Bessie in her most friendly voice. "Will you please give it to her?"

"Thank you. I am Mrs. Hadly. Won't you come in?"

Venna thought she would like to talk to this pretty young country girl. Everything and everyone seemed so new and interesting—so different to what she had been accustomed to in fashionable summer resorts.

Bessie was ready to accept the invitation.

"Yes, I would like to come in and get acquainted," she said frankly.

As she followed Venna into the large, cool living room, she felt a little disappointed at the thought of this fascinating city girl being married.

"It'll spoil all the fun," she decided.

"Do sit down," said Venna kindly as she seated herself. "So you are one of the young ladies of the village? Do tell me a little about the life here. It is all so new to me and my friend, too."

"Your friend? The lady with the baby?" asked Bessie.

"Yes, we are going to live here together. Mr. and Mrs. Halloway, baby, and myself and maids, for six months."

"Oh, then you're just summer people," said Bessie, disappointed again.

"Yes, my home is in New York. But six months is a long, long time," she added, smiling. She was amused at the open, admiring gaze of her visitor.

"I guess you'll have enough of it before six months is out. City people don't care much for Ashfield—that is, unless they stay and get used to it."

"Is it so very unpleasant here then?" asked Venna.

"Mercy, no!" exclaimed Bessie, ready to defend her own home town. "It's a dandy place when you're right in with everything. The summer people always stay on the outside—just look on, yer know, and of course it's awful slow compared to city life, and just being on the outside makes it slower."

"Yes, I understand. To like country life, one must know everyone for miles around," remarked Venna.

"Exactly, I don't suppose you'll want to do that, though," Bessie returned with hesitation.

"Not quite—as we don't expect to stay. But I won't remain on the 'outside' while I'm here. This life will be too interesting to me to ignore it. Tell me, what is the most important diversion in Ashfield?"

"Going to Church, I guess—or, the movies over in Ellenville," replied Bessie.

Venna laughed.

"Which do you like best?" she asked.

"Oh, I like both. The Church has lots of fun, though—always something going on. Which Church do you think you will like?"

"I don't know. There are two, aren't there? How did there ever happen to be more than one in this little place?"

"It was just this way," explained Bessie, pleased to give village history: "At one time, there was only one, the Methodist. But some of the members quarreled with the minister and left to start a church of their own. Just for spite they built it right opposite to ours, and they became Presbyterians. Kind o' mean, wasn't it? Of course, that was long ago. Since then the people have become friendly and the ministers exchange calls, but when anyone new comes to town, they both scramble for a new member. Has Mr. Soffy called yet?"

"No, but I expect him this afternoon. He met Mr. Halloway and asked if he might call today."

"There! I knew it!" exclaimed Bessie. "He always gets there first. I guess anyway you'll like Mr. Soffy and his Church best. Most city people do."

"Why so?"

"Well, you see Mr. Allworth is a plain country minister—never been anything else. You'll find him helping his wife do the wash, or feeding the chickens, or gossiping at the store, when he ought to be out making calls. Mr. Soffy is a young man who has worked his way through college and knows a lot about the new ideas that take well. And somehow he's always there first, and gets the city folks."

"He must be quite an interesting young man," returned Venna, amused at the queer little village and its doings. "I suppose he feels very important and popular."

"Well, hardly either," returned Bessie. "He seems very humble, considering how smart he is. And popular? Most of the people, especially the men, don't like him at all. Some don't like the way the old ladies on the hill fuss over him. They call him a 'molly' for letting them. You know he lives with the two Miss Haskells, and they fairly dote on him. It's 'Soffy here' and 'Soffy there' until one does get rather tired of it. But I like him. I think it's jealousy that makes him disliked. You see people here don't take to those who know a lot more than themselves. Mr. Allworth takes more with the country people."

"It must be rather a hard position for Mr. Soffy," said Venna with ready sympathy. "It's very discouraging to fight against prejudice."

"It certainly is," agreed Bessie. "But I hope you'll come to our Church. We need a few up-to-date people to liven things up a bit."

"Well, my dear, I certainly will attend both Churches sometimes—then no one will feel hurt."

"Oh, thank you. That's a fair, square deal."

"Of course, I won't join any; but while I'm here, I'm sure I would enjoy a simple country church. I don't know about Mrs. Halloway, however, she is a Christian Scientist."

"Then you are not?" asked Bessie delighted, vaguely imagining Christian Scientists belonged to some queer species.

"No, not exactly," returned Venna quietly. "But Christian Science has many beautiful beliefs that help one to live a better life."

"Is that so?" asked Bessie curiously. "Sometime will you tell me all about it?"

"Mrs. Halloway can do that better than I can. I know she would like to. You must call again when she is in."

There was a pause in the conversation and Bessie decided it wouldn't do to stay too long the first time.

"I will call again, thank you," she replied, as she arose to go. "Thank you very much for saying you'll come to our church."

As Venna stood on the porch watching Bessie go up the hill, the warmth and glow of the beautiful May day seemed to thrill her whole being. The air was laden with the scent of apple-blossoms, and the fresh green of the trees and grass invited one to new thoughts and a new life.

When Bessie reached the top of the hill she turned and waved her hand. Venna waved back.

"How friendly and primitive it all is!" was Venna's pleased thought. "That bright, happy face—it seems it ought to be easy to live Christian Science here."

Certainly Anna Halloway had done wonders for Venna. Whether Christian Science or Anna's personal influence played the greater part in taking Venna out of her depths, it would be hard to determine. Both, however, played important parts. A few weeks had brought to Venna the determination to think only of happy things and service to others. She was learning the lesson of looking "up" and not "down," "out" and not "in," and to a nature so naturally bright as hers, it was not a very difficult task. Hadly did not annoy her at all. Since she came to Ashfield one week ago, she received a formal letter from him, stating his return to New York and asking her to write if she desired anything at his hands. Nothing could be more cooly polite.

"Poor Hadly! He certainly is acting his very best under the circumstances," she decided, and she gave him her "best thoughts," as Anna entreated her to do.

Just before Bessie came, she had been wondering what she could do in this little village to make more happiness for someone.

The whole six months in Anna's cheerful company would give her time to recover herself and lay plans for a useful future, but busy she must be wherever she was, or her despondency might return. Bessie's visit gave her a sudden happy thought. Why not interest herself in the girls of the village? The Church and the movies! Was that all they had?

She seated herself in a low wicker porch chair to read her letter from Aunt Emily.

"Detroit, Wednesday.
"Venna Dearest:

"Just a line to let you know Dr. Hansom and I are both well and enjoying our trip so very much. Detroit gave us a wonderful welcome. Somehow they found out we were here, and one of the Churches gave us a big dinner. I wish you could have heard him speak! He was so earnest and yet so witty at times! How proud I was of him! Dearie, how thankful we ought both to be that we have such excellent husbands and are so happy! How glad your dear father would be! I suppose your good Hadly commutes to Ashfield. Or is he too busy? You must find it much pleasure to be with Anna again, though I'm surprised you would choose a dead little country place. Don't you think it may be very monotonous for you? Surely you will find very few of your class there.

"Well, dearie, whatever makes you happy, of course, do. I suppose you are beginning to realize Hadly is all that is necessary for your happiness.

"Dr. Hansom has received so many earnest requests to preach in Western cities, that we may spend the entire summer touring and satisfying the demand for his preaching.

"In spite of all my new happiness, I miss you so, dearie. Do write constantly. Give my love to Anna and Hadly.

"I am anxious to see that precious baby. Perhaps one day there will be one more precious you can show me.

"By-bye, dear girlie.

"Your loving Aunt Emily."

As Venna finished the letter, her face saddened and she lost herself in thoughts of the past and what might have been. But she quickly drew herself together.

"This is not Christian Science!" she declared to herself. "Away with such thoughts and enter sunshine, flowers, spring-time!"

"Good afternoon," said a pleasant, full-toned man's voice, and Venna looked up to see Mr. Soffy enter her gate. She knew him because Halloway had pointed him out as one of the main objects of interest.

"Good afternoon," she returned, rising and taking in his pleasant personality at a glance.

Mr. Soffy was medium height, rather fleshy, with dark, wavy hair above a broad, large-featured face, from which looked out dreamy, dark eyes. His smile was particularly frank and broad, showing white, even teeth between full, sensuous lips.

A few pleasantries were exchanged as they entered the house and the living room.

"It is a great pleasure for me to meet you," began Mr. Soffy, taking in with delight the beauty and brightness of this new comer. "Every little while, some city people will wander out here and it is so refreshing to meet them."

"How strange!" said Venna, smiling. "I find the country people so refreshing. Such a bright, rosy, blue-eyed girl has just called. She seemed to bring a breath of spring with her."

"Yes? Oh, I've no doubt that was Bessie, a winsome Methodist girl. Pretty, isn't she? All the country boys are wild over her, but she declares she'll marry a city chap or none."

"She might do better right here," said Venna seriously.

"Yes, that's very true. I'm a city man myself, and I think the men of the simple life compare very favorably with the men of the city's whirl. But if you like country people, you'll meet all your heart can desire. As soon as they know you've settled, and Bessie will quickly report—all the ladies in the village will call, so prepare for a siege!"

"Will they?" asked Venna, smiling. "Mrs. Halloway and I must be prepared."

"No preparation necessary," replied Mr. Soffy, laughing. "They would rather take you unaware, and if anyone calls when you're washing, they would like nothing better than to come in the back way, seating themselves in the kitchen with a 'Never mind, my dear, go right on. We can get just as well acquainted, and you getting your work done.'"

Venna laughed with real amusement.

"Are they really so informal?"

"Yes, indeed; Primitive with a capital P. But I don't suppose you ever do such a thing as wash?"

"I must confess my ignorance in that line," returned Venna.

Mr. Soffy smiled understandingly. "I hope you will come out to our little Church sometimes?"

"Yes, I told Bessie I would divide my attentions between the two Churches."

"You have no choice then between the Methodist and the Presbyterian?"

"Hardly; I can't honestly say I have found any Church to satisfy me yet. Every denomination has so many inconsistencies. I love my Bible, and it doesn't seem to me that any of you fully follow Christ's teachings."

"To be frank with you," returned Mr. Soffy, contracting his brows thoughtfully, "I don't think any of us do. The Churches have accumulated the errors of ages. I wish personally we could throw off a lot of waste material. But the people have to be dealt with gradually. It's like operating on a diseased body. One part must be cut at a time or the patient would lose his life from shock."

"I can't agree with you," returned Venna earnestly. "Why should you preach error and intensify the disease?"

"Well—no—maybe not," returned Mr. Soffy with hesitation. "I never thought of it in just that light. It's very hard to know how to handle a congregation of church-goers today. They are full of prejudice, 'mother told me so' doctrines, and unless something new is startlingly attractive, out goes the preacher if he dares to introduce it. What would you do?" he asked with a look of open admiration.

Venna answered without hesitation.

"What would I do? If I were a preacher, I would study and pray hard to find the truth. And whatever I found, I would preach to my people, regardless of anyone's opinions or the keeping of my position. You regard truth as a knife that cuts away diseased parts one at a time. So you use it carefully. I regard truth as a healing stream that should flow freely at all times to heal the diseases of our minds."

Mr. Soffy's dark eyes reflected her enthusiasm.

"Wonderfully said!" he exclaimed. "If I had a few like you in my church, I would have the courage to do as you say."

"Courage comes from God, Mr. Soffy, not from man," returned Venna softly.

There was a moment's silence in which Mr. Soffy eyed Venna keenly as if to read her very soul.

"Are you a Christian Scientist?" he asked.

"Not exactly," replied Venna. "Mrs. Halloway is trying to make me one. I live by many of their principles. There is so much beauty in some of their ideas. But I must believe in the Personality of God. I can't see how they do away with it. When Stephen was being stoned to death, the heavens opened before him, and he saw the Christ sitting on the right hand of God. Now, if we believe in the inspiration of the Bible, how can we accept this vision without the belief in God's personality? There are many more verses in scripture which declare that truth also. I must believe all the Bible or none. There is no logic in accepting just those parts that we desire to accept. That is why all the Churches differ. They don't really accept the Bible as God's word. They often say they do, but if they really did, beliefs would be founded on the fullness of its teachings and not on man's opinions. Not only this, but when I have been in my greatest sorrows, I have longed for a personal God who understands. Religion wouldn't mean anything to me without the Personality of a Divine Father."

"I think you'd better take my pulpit, Mrs. Hadly," said Mr. Soffy smiling. "You have more decision of thought than myself."

"Oh, don't say that!" replied Venna. "I don't want to give the impression of sureness. Indeed, a few points I have decided, but the greater truths I am still seeking and praying for. I am very much at sea."

"Then keep on praying and remember the verse in the Bible you are so sure is inspired. 'If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him.'"

Venna's eyes shone. "How often I have repeated that verse! Yes, I believe it, too. I am waiting for greater light on many things. I'm sure God will give it."

"But you must let go of prejudice to be in a condition to receive new ideas," returned Mr. Soffy. "I have thrown tradition to the winds, and find it easy to broaden out, but my congregation would be more than astounded if I told them all my ideas."

"I hope you will tell me many of them, Mr. Soffy. I like to hear new thoughts, but I always sift them well before I give them precedence over the old."

"Indeed, it will be a pleasure to discuss with a mind like yours," returned he with his broadest smile. "I hope you will permit me to call often. I must go now, however, for I promised to address the woman's club this afternoon. Perhaps next time I come, it will be in the evening, that I might meet Mr. Hadly, too. He commutes with Mr. Halloway?"

Venna dropped her eyes and colored noticeably.

"No, Mr. Hadly will not be in Ashfield—for a time. He is very busy in the city."

Mr. Soffy was quick to detect her confusion, but, making no further remark concerning her husband, he said good-bye with a firm pressure of her hand in his.

"Remember, Mrs. Hadly, I am always at your service. Do not hesitate to call upon me."

After he had gone, Venna attempted to read without success. The words before her seemed meaningless. Against her will she was comparing Hadly and this young minister. The comparison was unfavorable to her husband.

"What a personality!" she said to herself, thinking of the young minister and letting her imagination build a character for him that was exceptional. "Why did not my life bring me to a man like him when I was free? Yet probably I could never have loved him. I can't really imagine myself being in love and why?"

But her self analysis always ended in a question, and was left to future answering.

Venna was an enigma to herself to be solved only by truths gained by experience.