ddicted.
Mr. Jones offered to lend Mr. Hopkins any of the new books, with which
his library was rather well stocked, and promised to send over the
_Pall Mall Review_, to which he was a subscriber, every week. Mr.
Hopkins told Mr. Jones the name of the best washerwoman in the village,
one of his own new parishioners, as it happened, and proposed to put
him up at once for membership in the Golf Club. In fact the
conversation went off most harmoniously.

"It was extraordinarily kind of you to call so early, my dear fellow,"
said Jones as he followed his guest to the door of the little rectory.
"I take it as a mark of Christian brotherhood; and naturally, as a
clergyman, I want to be as close as possible to every one who is
working in any way for the good of the place where my parish lies."

"Of course!" answered Hopkins. "That's all right. I guess you won't
have any trouble about Christian brotherhood in Samaria. Good-bye till
Monday afternoon."

But as he walked across the green, the skirts of his black frock-coat
flapping in the September breeze, and his brown Fedora hat set at a
reflective angle on the back of his head, he pondered a little over the
precise significance of his _confrere's_ last remark, which had not
altogether pleased him. Was there a subtle shade of difference between
those who were working "in any way" for the good of Samaria, and the
"clergyman" who felt bound to be on good terms with them?

On Monday afternoon they had appointed to take a country walk together,
and Hopkins, who was a lean, long-legged, wiry fellow, with a deep
chest, gray eyes, and a short, crisp brown beard and moustache, led the
way at a lively pace over hill and dale around Lake Marapaug and
back,--fourteen miles in three hours. Jones was rather red when they
returned to the front gate of the rectory about five o'clock, and he
wiped his beaded forehead with his handkerchief as he invited his
comrade to come in and have a cup of tea.

"No, thank you," said Hopkins, "I'm just ready for a bit of work in my
study, now. Nice little stroll, wasn't it? I want you to know the
country about here, and the people too. You mustn't feel strange in
this Puritan region where my church has been established so long. We'll
soon make you feel at home. Good-bye."

An hour later, when Jones had sipped his tea, he looked up from an
article in the _Pall Mall Review_ and began to wonder whether Hopkins
had meant anything in particular by that las