Mr. Somers had come home from his six weeks' holiday, and was talking over the village news with Miss Manners.

She told him of little Edwin Smithers's death, of the summons to Jessie Hollis, and of the visit of Mrs. Cuthbert.

"Of course it is wrong to judge," she said, "but do you remember that Lenten sermon, and the impression I told you it made?"

"I remember well. It was on the seed, and on bringing forth fruit."

"Well, when we had the Parable of the Sower the other day, I could not help thinking how it had worked out. There were some, like that Cray girl, who never seemed to take it in at all, but left it as something outside of them. Then three distinctly were moved to undertake something, the two Hollises and Amy Lee. Well, Grace dropped her missionary needlework as soon as that wedding order come in her way——"

"Don't be hard on her, Dora."

"No; but I'm afraid I can't help seeing that she does not seem to keep up her Sunday ways as she used. Then there's a sharp, worn, fretted way. I am very much afraid she is getting choked with the thorns."

"I don't know Miss Hollis well," he said, thoughtfully, "but I am afraid she does not look much beyond her shop."

"And my poor little Amy Lee responding so readily—seeming all that could be wished, and then showing herself so little able to stand temptation from that silly girl."

"I hope there was no more than silliness."

"I don't think there was; but still, after all the care Rose and Charlotte have taken to bring up that girl really refined, it was very disappointing to find her ready to be led away in an instant by foolish, vulgar admiration; above all, when it led her to neglect the good work she was supposed to be doing, it showed such shallowness."

"It is a comfort that often trials, and even falls, do deepen the soil, so that the roots may have a better hold another time," said Mr. Somers. "I think there is good hope that so it will be with poor little Amy. And I think you have some good soil to tell me of."

"Indeed I have. I am sure Jessie Hollis has shown herself good soil, and her work upon that very unpromising Mary Smithers showed itself remarkably. But that was not all I was thinking of. It seems to me that we have had a glimpse of what the hundredfold produce may be. Think of my dear sister Edith, working away at her class when there was much less help than now, and see what some of them have grown up, especially Amy Cuthbert. I know she had a good home, and other helps; but still I heard what she said of Edith's teaching and training. It has helped her to make that young Ambrose Cuthbert what he is,—and what may not be his harvest!"

"As though a man should cast seed into the field," said Mr. Somers, thoughtfully. "First the blade, then the ear, after that the full corn in the ear."

"Ah! I am leaping on too fast. We only see a little of the first-fruits," said Miss Manners, "and take it for an earnest of the rest." And then she repeated Bishop Heber's hymn, which she had often taught the children:—