e
see, you wa'n't a loser in the Bolton Bank; was you, Mis' Black?"

"No; I wa'n't; my late departed husband had too much horse-sense."

And having thus impugned less fortunate persons, Mrs. Solomon Black
departed, a little stiffer as to her back-bone than when she entered.
She had imparted information; she had also acquired it. When she had
returned rather later than usual from selling her strawberries in
Grenoble she had hurried her vegetables on to boil and set the table
for dinner. She could hear the minister pacing up and down his room
in the restless way which Mrs. Black secretly resented, since it
would necessitate changing the side breadths of matting to the middle
of the floor long before this should be done. But of Lydia Orr there
was no sign. The minister came promptly down stairs at sound of the
belated dinner-bell. But to Mrs. Black's voluble explanations for the
unwonted hour he returned the briefest of perfunctory replies. He
seemed hungry and ate heartily of the cold boiled beef and
vegetables.

"Did you see anything of _her_ this morning?" asked Mrs. Black
pointedly, as she cut the dried-apple pie. "I can't think what's
become of her."

Wesley Elliot glanced up from an absent-minded contemplation of an
egg spot on the tablecloth.

"If you refer to Miss Orr," said he, "I did see her--in a carriage
with Deacon Whittle."

He was instantly ashamed of the innocent prevarication. But he told
himself he did not choose to discuss Miss Orr's affairs with Mrs.
Black.

Just then Lydia came in, her eyes shining, her cheeks very pink; but
like the minister she seemed disposed to silence, and Mrs. Black was
forced to restrain her curiosity.

"How'd you make out this morning?" she inquired, as Lydia, having
hurried through her dinner, rose to leave the table.

"Very well, thank you, Mrs. Black," said the girl brightly. Then she
went at once to her room and closed the door.

At supper time it was just the same; neither the minister nor the
girl who sat opposite him had anything to say. But no sooner had Mrs.
Black begun to clear away the dishes than the two withdrew to the
vine-shaded porch, as if by common consent.

"She ought to know right off about Fanny Dodge and the minister,"
Mrs. Black told herself.

She was still revolving this in her mind as she walked sedately along
the street, the red and yellow striped bag clasped tightly in both
hands. Of course everybody in the village would suppose she k