Come now, old lady" (pulling his wife to her feet), "you are the better to-night, as I am, for the oil that Madge has slipped in here and there.

I fear the machinery to-day would have run badly without it." The group that gathered at the breakfast-table next morning bore early testimony to the tonic of the hills.

Jack only was not so well, and Mrs.Muir remained with him, while Madge and Mr.Muir wended their way to a little chapel whose spire was the only summons to worship.
A short, genial, middle-aged man met them at the door, with such hospitable cordiality as to suggest that he was receiving friends at his own home, and conducted them to seats.

A venerable clergyman sat in the pulpit with a face full of quiet benignity.

Every one who came appeared to receive an almost personal welcome; and Madge and Mr.Muir looked enviously at the self-appointed usher.