Next day he had a taste of Trumet's real aristocracy, the genuine article. Captain Elkanah Daniels and his daughter made their first formal call. The captain was majestic in high hat, fur-collared cape, tailed coat, and carrying a gold-headed cane. Miss Annabel wore her newest gown and bonnet and rustled as she walked. They entered the sitting room and the lady glanced superciliously about the apartment.

"Hum--ha!" barked Captain Elkanah. "Ahem! Mr. Ellery, I trust you're being made comfortable. The parish committee are--hum--ah--anxious that you should be. Yes?"

The minister said that he was very comfortable indeed.

"It isn't what you've been used to, we know," observed Miss Annabel.

"Mr. Langley, our former pastor, was a sweet old gentleman, but he was old-fashioned and his tastes were queer, especially in art. Have you noticed that 'fruit piece' in the dining room? Isn't it too ridiculous?"

Ellery admitted that the fruit piece was rather funny; but no doubt it had been a gift and so

--"Yes, indeed. I guess it was a present, fast enough. n.o.body would buy such a thing. It seems strange to pa and me that, although so many of our people have been abroad, they have such strange ideas of art. Do you remember the beautiful marbles in the palaces at Florence, Mr. Ellery?

Of course you've seen them?"

The minister was obliged to admit that he had never been abroad.

"Oh, is that so? I've been so many times with pa that it seems almost as if everybody was as familiar with Yurrup as I am. You remember what I said about the marbles, pa?"

Her parent nodded.

"Hum--ha! Oh, yes, yes," he said. "That was when I was in the fruit-carrying trade and made a voyage to Valenchy."

"Valencia, pa," corrected Annabel. "And Valencia is in Spain."

"I know it. But we went to Leghorn afterwards. I sailed to Cronstadt for some years regular. Cronstadt is in Rooshy, Mr. Ellery."

"Russia, pa," snapped his daughter. Then she changed the subject to church and parish affairs. They spoke of the sewing circle and the reading society and the Friday-evening meetings.

"The Come-Outers are so vexed with us," t.i.ttered Miss Annabel, "that they won't even hold prayer meeting on the same night as ours. They have theirs on Thursday nights and it's as good as a play to hear them shout and sing and carry on. You'll enjoy the Come-Outers, Mr. Ellery. They're a perfect delight."

And as they rose to go Captain Elkanah asked:

"Is there anything you'd like done about the parsonage, Mr. Ellery?

If so, it shall be done immejitly. How are you satisfied with your housekeeper?"

"Very well, indeed, Captain Daniels," was the prompt reply.

"She's a character, isn't she?" giggled Annabel. "She was born here in Trumet, but went away to New Bedford when she was young and grew up there. Her maiden name was Hall, but while she was away she married a man named Ansel Coffin. They didn't live together very long and weren't happy, I guess. I don't know whose fault it was, n.o.body knows much of anything about it, for that's the one thing she won't talk about.

Anyhow, the Coffin man was lost to sea, and after a while she came back to keep house for her brother Solomon. She's an awful odd stick, but she's a good cook, I believe; though I'm afraid you won't get the meals people such as ourselves, who've been so much in the city, are used to."

Ellery thought of the meals at his city boarding house and shuddered. He was an orphan and had boarded for years. Incidentally, he had worked his way through college. Captain Elkanah cleared his throat.

"Keziah," he commanded. "Hum--ha! Keziah, come in here a minute."

Keziah came in response to the call, her sewing in her hand. The renovation of the parsonage had so far progressed that she could now find time for a little sewing, after the dinner dishes were done.

"Keziah," said the captain pompously, "we expect you to look out for Mr.

Ellery in every respect. The parish committee expects that--yes."

"I'll try," said Mrs. Coffin shortly.

"Yes. Well, that's all. You can go. We must be going, too, Mr.

Ellery. Please consider our house at your disposal any time. Be neighborly--hum--ha!--be neighborly."

"Yes," purred Annabel. "DO come and see us often. Congenial society is very scarce in Trumet, for me especially. We can read together. Are you fond of Moore, Mr. Ellery? I just dote on him."

The last "hum--ha" was partially drowned by the click of the gate.

Keziah closed the dining-room door.

"Mrs. Coffin," said the minister, "I shan't trouble the parish committee. Be sure of that. I'm perfectly satisfied."

Keziah sat down in the rocker and her needle moved very briskly for a moment. Then she said, without looking up:

"That's good. I own up I like to hear you say it. And I am glad there are some things I do like about this new place of mine. Because--well, because there's likely to be others that I shan't like at all."

On Friday evening the minister conducted his first prayer meeting.

Before it, and afterwards, he heard a good deal concerning the Come-Outers. He learned that Captain Eben Hammond had preached against him in the chapel on Sunday. Most of his own parishioners seemed to think it a good joke.

"Stir 'em up, Mr. Ellery," counseled Lavinia Pepper. "Stir 'em up! Don't be afraid to answer em from the pulpit and set 'em where they belong.

Ignorant, bigoted things!"

Others gave similar counsel. The result was that the young man became still more interested in these people who seemed to hate him and all he stood for so profoundly. He wished he might hear their side of the case and judge it for himself. It may as well be acknowledged now that John Ellery had a habit of wishing to judge for himself. This is not always a politic habit in a country minister.

The sun of the following Thursday morning rose behind a curtain of fog as dense as that of the day upon which Ellery arrived. A flat calm in the forenoon, the wind changed about three o'clock and, beginning with a sharp and sudden squall from the northwest, blew hard and steady. Yet the fog still cloaked everything and refused to be blown away.

"There's rain astern," observed Captain Zeb, with the air of authority which belongs to seafaring men when speaking of the weather. "We'll get a hard, driving rain afore mornin', you see. Then, if she still holds from the northwest'ard, it'll fair off fine."

"Goin' out in this, Mr. Ellery!" exclaimed Keziah, in amazement, as the minister put on his hat and coat about seven that evening. "Sakes alive!

you won't be able to see the way to the gate. It's as dark as a n.i.g.g.e.r's pocket and thicker than young ones in a poor man's family, as my father used to say. You'll be wet through. Where in the world are you bound for THIS night?"

The minister equivocated. He said he had been in the house all day and felt like a walk.

"Well, take an umbrella, then," was the housekeeper's advice. "You'll need it before you get back, I cal'late."

It was dark enough and thick enough, in all conscience. The main road was a black, wet void, through which gleams from lighted windows were but vague, yellow blotches. The umbrella was useful in the same way that a blind man's cane is useful, in feeling the way. The two or three stragglers who met the minister carried lanterns. One of these stragglers was Mr. Pepper. Kyan was astonished.

"Well, I snum!" cried Kyan, raising the lantern. "If 'tain't Mr. Ellery.

Where you bound this kind of night?"

Before the minister could answer, a stately figure appeared and joined the pair. Lavinia, of course.

"Well, Mr. Ellery," she said. "Ain't you lost, out in this fog? Anybody sick?"

No, no one was sick.

"That's a mercy. Goin' callin', be you?"

"No."