ion
on the porch when the judge and Stott had gone to the city on one
of their periodical excursions, Mrs. Rossmore was startled to see
a gentleman of clerical appearance accompanied by a tall, angular
woman enter their gate and ring the bell.

The Rev. Percival Pontifex Deetle and his sister Miss Jane Deetle
prided themselves on being leaders in the best social circle in
Massapequa. The incumbent of the local Presbyterian church, the
Rev. Deetle, was a thin, sallow man of about thirty-five. He had a
diminutive face with a rather long and very pointed nose which
gave a comical effect to his physiognomy. Theology was written all
over his person and he wore the conventional clerical hat which,
owing to his absurdly small face, had the unfortunate appearance
of being several sizes too large for him. Miss Deetle was a gaunt
and angular spinster who had an unhappy trick of talking with a
jerk. She looked as if she were constantly under self-restraint
and was liable at any moment to explode into a fit of rage and
only repressed herself with considerable effort. As they came up
the stoop, Eudoxia, already instructed by Mrs. Rossmore, was ready
for them. With her instinctive respect for the priestly garb she
was rather taken back on seeing a clergyman, but she brazened it
out:

"Mr. Rossmore's not home." Then shaking her head, she added: "They
don't see no visitors."

Unabashed, the Rev. Deetle drew a card from a case and handing it
to the girl said pompously:

"Then we will see Mrs. Rossmore. I saw her at the window as we
came along. Here, my girl, take her this card. Tell her that the
Reverend Pontifex Deetle and Miss Deetle have called to present
their compliments."

Brushing past Eudoxia, who vainly tried to close the door, the
Rev. Deetle coolly entered the house, followed by his sister, and
took a seat in the parlour.

"She'll blame me for this," wailed the girl, who had not budged
and who stood there fingering the Rev. Deetle's card.

"Blame you? For what?" demanded the clerical visitor in surprise.

"She told me to say she was out--but I can't lie to a minister of
the Gospel--leastways not to his face. I'll give her your card,
sir."

The reverend caller waited until Eudoxia had disappeared, then he
rose and looked around curiously at the books and pictures.

"Hum--not a Bible or a prayer book or a hymn book, not a picture
or anything that would indicate the slightest reverence for holy
things."

He pic