t
sat eyeing her abstractedly, while he rattled the point of the paper-knife
between his Upper and lower teeth.

"Yes, yes--quite satisfactory. Religious views?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Religious views?"

"If you really think that a necessary question, I was baptised and brought
up in the Church of England."

"Not a bigoted Churchwoman, I hope?"

"Not bigoted, I certainly hope," Hester answered demurely.

"I feel sure of it," said Mr. Sam, rising gallantly. "In the matter of
so-called apostolic succession, for instance--"

But here there came a tap at the door, and Elizabeth Jane, the housemaid,
announced that Parson Endicott had called. "Show him in," ordered Mr. Sam
promptly, and at the same time--having suddenly made up his mind--he flung
Hester an insufferably confidential glance, which seemed to say, "Never
mind _him_; you and I are in the same boat."

Parson Endicott suffered from shortness of sight and a high parsonic
manner. He paused on the threshold to wipe his eyeglasses, adjusted them
on his nose, and gazing around the room, cleared his throat as if about to
address a congregation.

"Good-day, parson." Mr. Sam saluted him amiably, still without rising.
"You've come in the nick of time. I have just been chatting with Miss
Marvin here--our new schoolmistress."

Hester divined that, for some reason, Mr. Samuel had decided to accept her
claim; and that for some reason equally occult he meant to give the
clergyman no choice but to accept it.

"Indeed?--er--yes, to be sure, I am pleased to make your acquaintance,
Miss Marvin," said Parson Endicott mellifluously, with a glance which
seemed to distinguish Hester kindly from the ordinary furniture of the
room. This was his habitual way of showing cordial goodwill to his social
inferiors, and the poor man had lived to the age of fifty-six without
guessing that they invariably saw through it. Having bestowed this glance
of kindness upon Hester, he turned to Mr. Sam with another, which plainly
asked how far (as one person of importance conferring with another) he
might take it that the creature before them was a satisfactory creature.

"You're in luck's way," said Mr. Sam, answering this look. "She's a
Churchwoman."

"My dear Mr. Rosewarne,"--Parson Endicott pressed the finger-tips of both
hands together, holding them in front of his stomach--"I am gratified--
deeply gratified; but you must not suppose for one moment--h'm--whatever
my faults,