And if you think Mr.Webb's prayers are too long, it's a sign that for your soul's salvation they ought to be longer.' And I said--" Mrs.Lane knew by long experience that now or never was the time to stop Mr.Hardcastle.Once fairly started on the subject of his supposed advice to Dick on any given occasion, there was no arresting his eloquence.

She started up abruptly from her sewing-machine with her mouth full of pins, emptying them into her hand as she went.

"Those ginger-cookies--" she mumbled as she passed Mr.Hardcastle.

"They ought to be done by this." A promissory fragrance caught the old gentleman's nostrils as she opened the door, dispelling sterner thoughts.

"Ah," he said, sniffing the air with evident approbation, "I was about going, but I don't mind if I stay and try a few.