"Ain't she about the smartest girl you ever met with?" continued
the mother.
"God has certainly blessed her with many gifts," was the reply,
"but where the trust is great, the responsibility is great also."
"Don't she know it?"
"I trust she does, Sister Cooper."
"You may trust every bit of it. She's got the smartness, the same
as it is in books--"
"But the gift of talents, Sister Cooper, is a dangerous gift."
"I don't see, Brother Cross, how good things that come from God
can be dangerous things."
"If I could see the books, Sister Cooper;--I say not that they are
evil--"
John Cross began in tones that denoted something like despair;
certainly dissatisfaction was in them, when Alfred Stevens, who
had long since tired of what was going on, heard a light footfall
behind him. He turned his eyes and beheld the fair maiden, herself,
the propriety of whose reading was under discussion, standing in the
doorway. It appeared that she had gathered from what had reached
her ears, some knowledge of what was going on, for a smile of
ineffable scorn curled her classic and nobly-chiselled mouth, while
her brow was the index to a very haughty volume.
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