y rites gone through, Green
Valley accepted him as it accepted the sunshine and rain, the larks and
wild roses, and all the other gifts that heaven chose to send.

Roger Allan and Grandma Wentworth began to call him John. But Nanny
Ainslee always spoke of him and addressed him as Mr. Knight. And he
discovered after a time that for some strange reason he did not like
this.

One day he mentioned the matter. He was walking home from church with
her. Mr. Ainslee had invited him up for Sunday dinner and the party of
them were chatting pleasantly as they walked along together.

In asking him a question Nan addressed him as Mr. Knight. Then it was
that he stopped and made his startling request. He addressed them all
but he meant only Nan.

"I wish," he said suddenly, "you would not call me Mr. Knight."

Mr. Ainslee and Billy hid a smile, said nothing and walked on. But Nan
stopped in amazement.

"Why not?" she asked a little breathlessly.

"Nobody else does. I was never called that in India. It makes me feel
lonely, and a stranger here."

"But," Nanny's voice was colorless and almost dreary, even though a
wicked little gleam shot into her eyes, "what in the world shall I call
you? I can't call you--_John_. And 'parson' always did seem to me
rather coarse and disrespectful."

He had stopped when she did and now was looking straight down into her
eyes. Before the hurt and surprise and bewilderment in his face the
wicked little gleam retreated and a deep pink began to flush Nanny's
cheeks. The suspicion crossed her mind that this tall young man from
India with the unconquered eyes and the directness of a child might be
a rather difficult person to deal with.

He just stood there and looked at her and said never a word. Then he
quietly turned and walked on up the road with her.

For the first time in her life Nanny felt queer in the company of a
man, queer and puzzled and almost uncomfortable. She was not a flirt
and her remark was commonplace and trivial. Yet this new chap was
taking it seriously and making her feel insincere and trifling. She
told herself that she was not going to like him and kept her eyes
studiously on the road and wayside flowers.

They mounted the front steps in silence but before he opened the door
to let her pass in he paused and waited for her to raise her eyes to
his. She did it much against her will. He spoke then as if they two
were all alone in the world together.