n."

The cause of so much amazement may appear sufficiently slight. Mr.
Hooper, a gentlemanly person of about thirty, though still a bachelor,
was dressed with due clerical neatness, as if a careful wife had
starched his band and brushed the weekly dust from his Sunday's garb.
There was but one thing remarkable in his appearance. Swathed about
his forehead and hanging down over his face, so low as to be shaken by
his breath, Mr. Hooper had on a black veil. On a nearer view it seemed
to consist of two folds of crape, which entirely concealed his
features except the mouth and chin, but probably did not intercept his
sight further than to give a darkened aspect to all living and
inanimate things. With this gloomy shade before him good Mr. Hooper
walked onward at a slow and quiet pace, stooping somewhat and looking
on the ground, as is customary with abstracted men, yet nodding kindly
to those of his parishioners who still waited on the meeting-house
steps. But so wonder-struck were they that his greeting hardly met
with a return.

"I can't really feel as if good Mr. Hooper's face was behind that
piece of crape," said the sexton.

"I don't like it," muttered an old woman as she hobbled into the
meeting-house. "He has changed himself into something awful only by
hiding his face."

"Our parson has gone mad!" cried Goodman Gray, following him across
the threshold.

A rumor of some unaccountable phenomenon had preceded Mr. Hooper into
the meeting-house and set all the congregation astir. Few could
refrain from twisting their heads toward the door; many stood upright
and turned directly about; while several little boys clambered upon
the seats, and came down again with a terrible racket. There was a
general bustle, a rustling of the women's gowns and shuffling of the
men's feet, greatly at variance with that hushed repose which should
attend the entrance of the minister. But Mr. Hooper appeared not to
notice the perturbation of his people. He entered with an almost
noiseless step, bent his head mildly to the pews on each side and
bowed as he passed his oldest parishioner, a white-haired
great-grandsire, who occupied an arm-chair in the centre of the aisle.
It was strange to observe how slowly this venerable man became
conscious of something singular in the appearance of his pastor. He
seemed not fully to partake of the prevailing wonder till Mr. Hooper
had ascended the stairs and showed himself in the pulpit, face to face