at kind of doctorin'."

But the answer was unsatisfactory. Mr. Ellery laughed, changed the
subject, and wandered out into the garden, where Keziah saw him, shortly
afterwards, intently regarding nothing in particular with a rapt stare.
She watched him for a few moments and then, with a puzzled shake of
the head, returned to her work. She believed that he was troubled about
something and was herself troubled in consequence.

His absent-mindedness was most acute on Sunday evenings, before prayer
meeting, and after he had returned from the afternoon at Captain
Elkanah's.

"Say, Mr. Ellery," she said, on one of these Sunday evenings, "do you
know, it seems to me that Elkanah's meals must go to your head. Don't
have any of his granddad's New England rum, do you? They tell me he's
got some of that down cellar that he doles out occasional to his
very particular friends. That's the common yarn around town, though I
couldn't swear 'twas gospel."

The minister smiled and denied acquaintanceship with the New England
beverage.

"Humph! Then it must be the other thing. You ain't in love, are you?"

The young man started, colored, and was plainly embarrassed.

"In love?" he repeated. "In love, Mrs. Coffin?"

"Yes, in love. Annabel hasn't landed a male at last, has she? She's a
line over the side for a long time."

The hearty laugh with which this was received settled the question of
Annabel's success. Keziah was relieved.

"Well, I'm glad of that," she said. "I ain't got any grudge against
Annabel, but neither have I got one against you. Another man in that
family would have an easy time in one way, he wouldn't have to do any
thinkin' for himself--Elkanah and his daughter would do all that was
necessary. So you're not in love. Then I don't know what does ail you.
I'll say this, though, for a body that ain't in love you certainly stay
with the Danielses a long time. You went there right after meetin' this
noon and now it's seven o'clock and you've just got home. And 'twas the
same last Sunday and the one before. Been there all the time, have you?"

She knew he had not, because she had seen him pass the parsonage, on
the opposite side of the road, two hours before. But she was curious to
learn what his reply would be. It was noncommittal.

"No," he said slowly. "Not all the time. I--er--went for a short walk."

Before she could inquire concerning that walk he had entered the study
and closed the door after him.

During