on to his presence,
and walked into the parlor. Mrs. Doctor Weaver came forward, a shade of
anxiety on her face.

"Mrs. Doctor Weaver, I suppose," said Eliph' Hewlitt. "Well, my name
is Hewlitt, Eliph' Hewlitt, and I heard of this sale at the hotel. The
landlord said strangers were welcome----"

"Of course they are!" exclaimed Mrs. Doctor Weaver. "I'm afraid all the
best things are gone, they went off so quickly to-night; but you're just
as welcome, I'm sure, an' mebby you'll find something you'd like, though
I suppose you're a travelin' man, an' I don't see what you'd do with a
knit tidy, or a rickrack pin cushion, unless you've got a sister or a
wife to send it to. But mebby you ain't a drummer after all?"

"Well, yes, I'm a sort of a drummer," said Eliph', tapping his parcel.
"Book agent, you know. That the minister?"

Mrs. Weaver drew back when Eliph' mentioned his occupation. She did not
consider a book agent any less worthy than another man, but she had been
obliged to miss the last payment on Sir Walter Scott, and she had an
ill-defined feeling of guilt. To miss a payment was almost as hideous
in her eyes as to neglect to put a dime in the contribution plate each
Sunday would have been. Her first thought was that Eliph' had come to
rudely bear away the ten volumes of Sir Walter before the eyes of all
the women of Kilo, and she gladly grasped at his last words.

"Yes," she said quickly, "that's him. Let me introduce you. He--he likes
books."

"I'm not selling books to-night," explained Eliph' Hewlitt, for her
words seemed one form of the usual reception of a book agent, and to
indicate a desire to be rid of him as quickly as possible; "but I don't
mind meeting him."

As Mrs. Weaver led the way to the center of the group, Eliph' Hewlitt
followed her, but his eyes quickly made a circle of the room, and rested
a moment on Sally Briggs, who was one of the cashiers.

She saw him and caught her breath, as if the sight had frightened her,
but when he nodded she could not refuse to return the salutation. She
nodded as coldly as she knew how, and hurried to the most distant corner
of the room. Eliph' was well enough pleased with this reception, for he
would hardly have know what to do with a warmer one; in many years he
had received only the book agent's usual greeting, which is far from
cordial. She had nodded to him, at any rate, and he felt a glow of
satisfaction.

When Mrs. Weaver introduced him to the minis