too large for the stream of water rippling under it.
The side-street climbed about twenty rods the other way into what was
evidently the Main Street of Crofield. There was a tavern on one
corner, and across the street from that there was a drug store and in
it was the post-office. On the two opposite corners were shops, and
all along Main Street were all sorts of business establishments,
sandwiched in among the dwellings.

It was not yet noon, but Crofield had a sleepy look, as if all its work
for the whole week were done. Even the horses of the farmers' teams,
hitched in front of the stores, looked sleepy. Jack Ogden took his
longest look, this time, at a neat, white-painted frame-house across
the way.

"Seems to me there isn't nearly so much room in it as there used to
be," he said to himself. "It's just packed and crowded. I'm going!"

He turned and walked on up toward Main Street, as if that were the best
thing he could do till dinner time. Not many minutes later, a girl
plainly but neatly dressed came slowly along in front of the village
green, away up Main Street. She was tall and slender, and her hair and
eyes were as dark as those of John Ogden, the blacksmith. Her nose was
like his, too, except that it was finer and not so high, and she wore
very much the same anxious, discontented look upon her face. She was
walking slowly, because she saw, coming toward her, a portly lady, with
hair so flaxy that no gray would show in it. She was elegantly
dressed. She stopped and smiled and looked very condescending.

"Good-morning, Mary Ogden," she said.

"Good-morning, Miss Glidden," said Mary, the anxious look in her eyes
changing to a gleam that made them seem very wide awake.

"It's a fine morning, Mary Ogden, but so very warm. Is your mother
well?"

"Very well, thank you," said Mary.

"And is your aunt well--and your father, and all the children? I'm so
glad they are well. Elder Holloway's to be here to-morrow. Hope
you'll all come. I shall be there myself. You've had my class a
number of times. Much obliged to you. I'll be there to-morrow. You
must hear the Elder. He's to inspect the Sunday-school."

"Your class, Miss Glidden?" began Mary; and her face suggested that
somebody was blowing upon a kind of fire inside her cheeks, and that
they would be very red in a minute.

"Yes; don't fail to be there to-morrow, Mary. The choir'll be full, of
course. I shall be there myself."

"I ho