There was another milestone; it was morethan that, it was an "event;" an eventthat made a deep impression in severalquarters and left a wake of smaller events in itstrain. This was the coming to Riverboro of theReverend Amos Burch and wife, returned missionariesfrom Syria.

　　The Aid Society had called its meeting for acertain Wednesday in March of the year in whichRebecca ended her Riverboro school days andbegan her studies at Wareham. It was a raw,blustering day, snow on the ground and a look inthe sky of more to follow. Both Miranda and Janehad taken cold and decided that they could notleave the house in such weather, and this deflectionfrom the path of duty worried Miranda, since shewas an officer of the society. After making thebreakfast table sufficiently uncomfortable and wishingplaintively that Jane wouldn't always insist onbeing sick at the same time she was, she decidedthat Rebecca must go to the meeting in theirstead. "You'll be better than nobody, Rebecca,"she said flatteringly; "your aunt Jane shall writean excuse from afternoon school for you; you canwear your rubber boots and come home by theway of the meetin' house. This Mr. Burch, if Iremember right, used to know your grandfatherSawyer, and stayed here once when he wascandidatin'. He'll mebbe look for us there, and youmust just go and represent the family, an' give himour respects. Be careful how you behave. Bowyour head in prayer; sing all the hymns, but nottoo loud and bold; ask after Mis' Strout's boy;tell everybody what awful colds we've got; if yousee a good chance, take your pocket handkerchiefand wipe the dust off the melodeon before themeetin' begins, and get twenty-five cents out of thesittin' room match-box in case there should be acollection."Rebecca willingly assented. Anything interestedher, even a village missionary meeting, and the ideaof representing the family was rather intoxicating.

　　The service was held in the Sunday-school room,and although the Rev. Mr. Burch was on the platformwhen Rebecca entered, there were only adozen persons present. Feeling a little shy andconsiderably too young for this assemblage, Rebeccasought the shelter of a friendly face, and seeingMrs. Robinson in one of the side seats near thefront, she walked up the aisle and sat beside her.

　　"Both my aunts had bad colds," she said softly,"and sent me to represent the family.""That's Mrs. Burch on the platform with herhusband," whispered Mrs. Robinson. "She's awfultanned up, ain't she? If you're goin' to save soulsseems like you hev' to part with your complexion.

　　Eudoxy Morton ain't come yet; I hope to the landshe will, or Mis' Deacon Milliken'll pitch the tuneswhere we can't reach 'em with a ladder; can'tyou pitch, afore she gits her breath and clears herthroat?"Mrs. Burch was a slim, frail little woman withdark hair, a broad low forehead, and patient mouth.

　　She was dressed in a well-worn black silk, andlooked so tired that Rebecca's heart went out toher.

　　"They're poor as Job's turkey," whispered Mrs.

　　Robinson; "but if you give 'em anything they'dturn right round and give it to the heathen. Hiscongregation up to Parsonsfield clubbed togetherand give him that gold watch he carries; I s'posehe'd 'a' handed that over too, only heathens alwaystell time by the sun 'n' don't need watches. Eudoxyain't comin'; now for massy's sake, Rebecca, dogit ahead of Mis' Deacon Milliken and pitch reallow."The meeting began with prayer and then theRev. Mr. Burch announced, to the tune of Mendon:--"Church of our God I arise and shine,Bright with the beams of truth divine:

　　Then shall thy radiance stream afar,Wide as the heathen nations are.

　　"Gentiles and kings thy light shall view,And shall admire and love thee too;They come, like clouds across the sky,As doves that to their windows fly.""Is there any one present who will assist us atthe instrument?" he asked unexpectedly.

　　Everybody looked at everybody else, and nobodymoved; then there came a voice out of a far cornersaying informally, "Rebecca, why don't you?" Itwas Mrs. Cobb. Rebecca could have played Mendonin the dark, so she went to the melodeon anddid so without any ado, no member of her familybeing present to give her self-consciousness.

　　The talk that ensued was much the usual sort ofthing. Mr. Burch made impassioned appeals for thespreading of the gospel, and added his entreatiesthat all who were prevented from visiting inperson the peoples who sat in darkness shouldcontribute liberally to the support of others who could.

　　But he did more than this. He was a pleasant,earnest speaker, and he interwove his discourse withstories of life in a foreign land,--of the manners,the customs, the speech, the point of view; evengiving glimpses of the daily round, the commontask, of his own household, the work of hisdevoted helpmate and their little group of children,all born under Syrian skies.

　　Rebecca sat entranced, having been given thekey of another world. Riverboro had faded; theSunday-school room, with Mrs. Robinson's red plaidshawl, and Deacon Milliken's wig, on crooked, thebare benches and torn hymn-books, the hangingtexts and maps, were no longer visible, and shesaw blue skies and burning stars, white turbansand gay colors; Mr. Burch had not said so, butperhaps there were mosques and temples and minaretsand date-palms. What stories they must know,those children born under Syrian skies! Thenshe was called upon to play "Jesus shall reignwhere'er the sun."The contribution box was passed and Mr. Burchprayed. As he opened his eyes and gave out thelast hymn he looked at the handful of people, at thescattered pennies and dimes in the contribution box,and reflected that his mission was not only to gatherfunds for the building of his church, but to keepalive, in all these remote and lonely neighborhoods,that love for the cause which was its only hope inthe years to come.

　　"If any of the sisters will provide entertainment,"he said, "Mrs. Burch and I will remain among youto-night and to-morrow. In that event we couldhold a parlor meeting. My wife and one of mychildren would wear the native costume, we woulddisplay some specimens of Syrian handiwork, andgive an account of our educational methods with thechildren. These informal parlor meetings, admittingof questions or conversation, are often the meansof interesting those not commonly found at churchservices so I repeat, if any member of the congregationdesires it and offers her hospitality, we willgladly stay and tell you more of the Lord's work."A pall of silence settled over the little assembly.

　　There was some cogent reason why every "sister"there was disinclined for company. Some had nospare room, some had a larder less well stocked thanusual, some had sickness in the family, some were"unequally y............