it; however, that must be as the Lord wills. But I must confess that my thoughts wandered a little during your careful résumé of available counter-charms; and I really forget which or how many you recommended for my adoption. I was thinking how universal is this belief in ghosts, spells, signs, etc. Even the worst sceptics in religious matters often partake of it. And I was puzzling myself with the question, whence it springs. In most cases, I imagine it is the result of an unconscious craving after some power behind nature, and superior to her inalterable laws, which may be disposed to take an occasional interest in human affairs. There are times when natural laws seem so hard, so chill, so unsympathizing,-as all law must, without love behind it,—we are glad to escape from their hands into any others which are capable of voluntary action. In short, I suppose it is the ignorant, unrenewed soul's spontaneous reaching out after God. If men only knew it to be such, how much better it would be for them!

"And I have been thinking," replied I, "that these same superstitions have their value as an involuntary concession to the spiritual part of man. Men do understand-and all the materialistic philosophy that was ever taught, cannot persuade them to the contrary-that there is both within and without them, somewhat, a power, an essence, or an influence,-which, while it works harmoniously enough with and through the laws of matter, is not obedient to them, but immeasurably above and beyond them. Superstitions do not come of the earthly, sordid part of man; they have little or nothing to do with the faculties that are employed in adding barn to barn, and field to field; they belong, however mistaken or degraded, to his spiritual nature, and are born of his spiritual needs; and therefore I am inclined to concede them some slight claim to respectful consideration."

"And I think," said Mrs. Prescott, sharply, "that they are a great deal too foolish to waste so many words about.

But here we are; and now work, and not talk, is to be the order of the day. At least for those who can't do both at once. And I always find that when my tongue is still, my hands move the fastest,"

The Gwynne Place had certainly nothing in its exte rior to warrant its occupying so much space in our talk, or in this letter. It was simply a gray, reverend farmhouse; with a long row of maples in front, and a large, dense orchard in the rear. Time and weather had left legible enough traces upon it, and it had the forlorn look of emptiness about it; but otherwise, it was a house as little suggestive of ghostly tenants as could well be conceived of.

We found its interior in a perplexing state of topsyturvity; but Mrs. Prescott set to work, with her usual energy and directness of purpose, and soon cleared a space for action. Then she produced, from some quarter, a kettle of paste, several rolls of wall-paper, scissors, and brush; and set about measuring, cutting, trimming, pasting, and hanging, as if she had been born to the business.

Ruth, too, threw herself into the work with a cheerful alacrity and heartiness that it was good to see. Having first helped Mr. Taylor to clear the parlor, she found the carpet thereto appropriated, satisfied herself that it required no other fitting than a little turning in on one side, rummaged about for a hammer and tacks, and went down upon her knees and commenced operations at once. The quick, sharp sound of her hammer echoed through the house; and it was followed by a cheery little carol from her lips, that seemed to bubble up from the very wellspring of joyfulness. I could not help stopping to watch her a moment, she looked so bright and happy; and she did her work so easily and so well, with a simple, unconscious grace that gave it the easy charm of play.

"Ghosts would not endure the spectacle for a moment," I was saying to myself, when I was startled by a deep, unexpected voice behind me ;

"Well! if I ain't dumbpounded!"

XXI.

SETTING TO RIGHTS, WITHOUT AND WITHIN,

OOKING round, I saw Aunt Vin's calico sunbonnet jerking spasmodically in the doorway; while the wearer thereof was taking in the whole scene, with an amazed glance.

"Is that Ruth Winnot ?" she proceeded, after a moment, "or is it a pectoral allusion?"

"How do you do?" said I, holding out my hand. "Speak for yourself, Ruth, and tell Miss Rust whether you are a spectral illusion, or not."

"My very own self, Aunt Vin!" declared Ruth, merrily, holding her hammer suspended over a nail, while she spoke, and then bringing it down sharply, by way of point to her sentence. "If you doubt it, pinch me, and see if I don't cry out like real flesh and blood!"

"That would be concussive evidence," returned Aunt Vin, drily. "But, bless me! Miss Frost! what sort of hokers-pokers have you been a-trying on the girl? 1 shouldn't have known her, if I'd have met her anywhere's out of Shiloh. She used to look like Patience on emolument, sp'iling with grief;' now, she's a good deal more like a 'butterfly, born in a bowery.' She'll be the sinecure of all eyes, this afternoon, I guess."

Ruth's face fell. That was exactly what she dreaded most. I hastened to give a different color to her thoughts. "Do not be turning Ruth's head with your compli

ments, Miss Rust! If she is pretty enough to attract everybody's gaze, it is not necessary to tell her of it; I cannot afford to have her spoiled with vanity, yet."

Aunt Vin stared hard for a moment; then, her grim features slowly relaxed into a smile, and her head jerked a kind of austere admiration.

"You ought to have been a dippermat or a fileofficer! You're deep enough to beat Talleyrant and Michael Velli at their own game!"

Then she turned to Ruth. "Well, anyhow, I'm just as glad to see you here, as if I had sore eyes, and you was some sort of patent delirium. And the sight of your industry is real respiring! It reminds me that it's high time I was set about something, myself. I'm always restful and uneasy when I ain't to work at something. Who is the queen-bee pro temporal of this hive, Miss Frost?"

I could not answer. Aunt Vin's opening sentences had sent me in haste to the window, to laugh my irrepressible laugh unseen. Ruth saw my condition, and came to the

rescue.

"I can't say who the queen-bee is, Aunt Vin; but you will find Mr. Taylor and Mrs. Prescott in the other room, if you want directions. Or you can set yourself to work, as I did. One can't go much amiss, in this house; there is work enough for all that come, and more too, I fancy."

"Oh, you'll have an enforcement soon,” replied Aunt Vin, encouragingly. "Essie Volger's on-a-root now, I guess; I saw her horse at the gate, as I came along. And there's two or three-unmentionables, we'll call 'em,-who're sure to come; just to see that your carpet goes down concisely straight, Ruth; and to take a look at Mr. Taylor's goods and chatters, and make sure that he hasn't got any more carpets and curtains and pots and kettles, and other personal defects, than the law allows," she added, dryly, as her vibratory sun-bonnet disappeared from the doorway.

Ruth and I looked at each other, and gave way to the irresistible contagion of repressed mirth, She was the first to recover herself.

"Aunt Vin is a great deal too good to be laughed at," she observed, wiping her eyes; "my conscience rebukes me every time I do it. But she does say such absurd things! what is one to do?"

"Only to take care that she does not see the laugh, and feel hurt by it. I respect Aunt Vin's character from the bottom of my heart, Ruth,-her active kindness, her ready sympathy, her voluntary assumption of tasks which others shun, are worthy of all honor;-but her vocabulary is fairly a subject for mirth, I think; if the laugh is un mingled with any disrespect toward herself. But I must not linger here any longer, laughing at that, nor enjoying the pretty spectacle of your bright activity: it is time I followed her good example, and found something to do."

"Not away from me!" exclaimed Ruth, in affright. "If you desert me now, when all those people are coming, I'll never put faith in you again."

The difficulty was settled by the appearance of Mr, Taylor, with a pile of muslin curtains in his arms.

"I am ashamed to bring you these, Miss Frost," said he, surveying them dubiously, "but such are Mrs. Prescott's orders. To be sure, they are all the parlor curtains we have, or are like to have, but that last wash seems to have established their claims to go on the retired list. Fortunately, life is possible without parlor curtains. Relievo my mind by saying that you will have nothing to do with them."

"And burden my conscience? No, no, Mr. Taylor, you have brought me a job after my own heart, and I cannot resign it so easily. I have a genius for darning and patching, as you will allow when your curtains are made to look 'maist as weel as new.""

"A sure sign that you are destined for a poor man's