management of our little household, thus seriously interfering with my
comforts. And in the second place, I feel it my duty to warn you from a
habit of canonization, which, if too extensively indulged in, will
inevitably warp your powers of frank and right judgment."

Phebe laughed, but did not forget.

One afternoon, some time later, she was at the rectory, whither she had
gone, at Mrs. Whittridge's request, to explain a new and intricate
embroidery stitch. They were upstairs in that lady's charming little
sitting-room, Phebe on a low stool by her friend's side, and Halloway had
just come in from a round of parochial visits and joined them there.

"Mrs. Whittridge," said Phebe, suddenly, "do you think it is possible to
care too much for one's friends? Mr. Halloway says one can. I know he
means that I do."

Mrs. Whittridge laid her hand caressingly on the girl's bonny brown hair.
"How can I judge, my child? I do not even know who your friends are."

"Who are they, in fact?" said Denham, drawing up a chair and seating
himself in front of the group by the table. "Oh, Miss Phebe is friends
with the entire village in a way. They all call her 'Phebe,' and keep
accurate track of her birthdays, from Dick Hardcastle up. And I am sure
she hasn't an enemy in the world. But there is this remarkable feature in
the case, that you could go over the entire population of Joppa by name
without eliciting a single thrill of enthusiasm from this really
enthusiastic young lady."

"I cannot help it," Phebe murmured, a little shamefacedly. "I bore them,