after what you
suffered with Mr. Bean. But what I was sayin', some do say Phrony
Mellen's bound to have the minister for herself, and that's why she
sent Rose Ellen off, traipsin' way down to Tupham, when her grandma'am
don't need her no more'n a toad needs a tail."

"I want to know if they say that!" replied Mrs. Bean. "But you know,
some say Rose Ellen's got a beau down to Tupham, and that's why she
went off without askin' leave or license, and her ma deef and all. I
see her go myself, and she went off early in the mornin', and if ever
I see a person what you may call slink away secret, like she'd done
somethin' to be 'shamed of, 'twas that girl. _She_ knew what she was
goin' for, well enough. Rose Ellen ain't no fool, for all she's as
smooth as baked custard. Now you mark my words, Mis' Peake,--"

At this moment, the back door opened with a loud clang. Mrs. Mellen
stood on the doorstep, and her eyes were very bright. She said
nothing, but gazed calmly up and down the yard, as if considering the
beauty of the night. Then, after a few minutes, she turned and
scrutinized her neighbours' windows. Nothing was to be seen, only a
white muslin curtain waved gently in the moonlight: nothing was to be
heard, only a faint rustle, probably of the same curtain.

"It's an elegant night!" said Mrs. Mellen, aloud. "I thought I heard
voices, but my hearin' does play me such tricks, these days."

Her calm, sensible voice fell like balm on the distracted ears of the
minister. He was soothed, he knew not why. The horrors that those
harpies suggested,--could there be truth in them? Rose Ellen with
a--his mind refused to frame the detestable word! Was there anything
true in the world? Was it all scandal and hatefulness and untruth?

He rose and paced his study in anguish of mind, but his ears were
still awake,--he thought he never should regain the joy of losing
himself,--and now another sound came to them, the sound of wheels. Why
did his heart stop, and then beat violently? What was there in the
sound of wheels? It was the late stage, of course, and Calvin Parks
was driving fast, as usual, to get to his home, five miles away,
before ten o'clock at night. But that stage came from Tupham, and
Tupham meant Rose Ellen. Rose Ellen, who was as smooth as baked
custard, and who had a--the wheels were slacking; the steady beat of
the horses' feet stopped; the stage had paused at the Widow Mellen's
door.

"Here we be!" said Calvin Parks. "