ed from her
husband in the middle aisle, marching to the right, her amiable deacon
taking the left. Bill Hopkins smiled inwardly as the thought flashed
over him that there must have been a secret female conclave among the
strong-minded women as well as among the men during the past week. The
same idea occurred to the minister's mind as he saw his members separate
in the middle aisle.

He drew his brow into a pucker which furrowed the flesh between his
brows. Mrs. Graves was seated at the rear of the room to the right, her
eyes upon an open book in her hand. She did not raise them as her
husband took his chair behind the small pulpit table upon which lay a
huge Bible marked by a dangling blue ribbon. The clergyman bent his head
a few moments in secret prayer, drew the book toward him, opened it,
found his text and placed the marker carefully between the pages. He
coughed slightly and with an extra effort raised his eyes to his
congregation. This is what he saw:

The middle aisle divided almost every woman from her husband; only here
and there had a timid wife with lowered eyes followed her lord and
master to the left.

Dominie Graves caught a peculiar gleam in the eye of Augusta Hall and
followed the line of her vision which was leveled at Bill Hopkins. There
was no enmity in the latter's mien, but Dominie Graves knew that when
the elderly deacon toyed with the white wart his nerves were vastly
disturbed. For an instant the thought traveled through the clergyman's
brain, that if Tessibel Skinner could work with her magic words on the
dull protrusion upon Hopkins's glistening head the former deacon would
lose his favorite occupation. He looked doubtfully down upon his own
hands and remembered the warts which Tessibel had whispered away. Then,
trying to drive all thoughts of the fisher-girl and her squatter father
from his mind, the minister rose to his feet. Frederick Graves had been
watching his father intently and as he saw his effort to rise the boy
whitened a little and settled back. Just growing into manhood and
beginning to think for himself, the lad blushed with shame at the state
of affairs that rose before his eyes this night. He threw a sidelong
glance at Hopkins and met a dejected expression from the eyes of his
mother. She looked so tired, so humiliated, that a bitter rebellious
feeling arose in Frederick's heart against his father. Then his mind
wandered again from the church to Tessibel Skinner in her sha