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“But something is due to old age!” urged Mrs. Arlington.

“Yes; much. But, if age have not softened a man’s prejudices against a good thing in itself, I doubt very much if a deference to his prejudice, such as you propose, will in the least benefit him. Better let him come in contact with a happy circle, exhilarated by music and dancing; and the chances are, that his heart will melt in the scene rather than grow colder and harder. The fact is, as I think of it more and more, the better pleased am I that Uncle Archer is coming just at this time.”

But Mrs. Arlington felt troubled about the matter. Early on Christmas morning, the old gentleman arrived, and was welcomed with sincere affection by every member of the family. Mr. and Mrs. Arlington had a daughter, named Grace, who was just entering her eighteenth year. She was gentle and affectionate in disposition, and drew to the side of Uncle Archer in a way that touched the old man’s feelings. He had not seen her before this, since she was a little girl; and now, he could not keep his eyes off of her as she sat by him, or moved about the room in his presence.

“What a dear girl that is!” was his remark to her mother, many times through the day.

“She’s a good girl,” would simply reply Mrs. Arlington, speaking almost without thought. Grace was a good girl; her mother felt this, and from her heart her lips found utterance.

It seemed, all through the day, that Grace could not do enough for the old man’s comfort. Once she drew him into her room, as he was passing her door, to show him some pictures that she had painted. As he sat looking at them, he noticed a small, handsomely bound Bible on her table. Taking it up, he said–

“Do you read this, Grace?”

“Oh, yes,” she replied, “every day.” And there was such a light of goodness in her eyes, as she looked up into his face, that Mr. Archer felt, for a moment or two, as if the countenance of an angel was before him.

“Why do you read it?” he continued after a pause.

“It teaches us the way to heaven,” said Grace.

“And you are trying to live for heaven?”

“I try to shun all evil as sin. Can I do more?”

All the minister’s creeds, and doctrines, and confessions of faith, which he had ever considered the foundations upon which Christian life was to be built, seemed, for a moment or two, useless lumber before the simple creed of this loving, pure-hearted maiden. To seek to disturb this state of innocence and obedience by moody polemics, he felt, instinctively, to be wrong.

“Perhaps not,” was his half abstracted reply; “perhaps not. Yes, yes; shun what is evil, and the Lord will adjoin the good.”

“Yes, yes; she is a good girl, as her mother says,” was frequently repeated by Uncle Archer during the day, when he would think of Grace.

Evening came, and young and old began to gather in the parlours. The minister was introduced to one and another, as they arrived, and was much gratified with the respect and attention shown to him by all. Grace soon drew around him three or four of her young friends, who listened to what he had to say with an interest that gratified his feelings. Nothing had been said to Grace of her uncle’s prejudice against dancing; she was, therefore, no little surprised to see the sudden change in his manner, when she said to a young lady in the group around him–

“Come! you must play some cotillions for us. We’re going to have a dance.”

After going with the young lady to the piano, and opening it for her, Grace went back to her uncle, whose face she found deeply clouded.

“A’n’t you well, uncle?” she asked, affectionately.

“Oh yes, child, I am well enough in body,” was replied.