gh the
gate laughing and sobbing hysterically and calling to him to follow.

Chapter XII

LONELY days followed Polly's desertion of the parsonage. Mandy went
about her duties very quietly, feeling that the little comments which
once amused the pastor had now become an interruption to thoughts in
which she had no part. He would sit for hours with his head in his
hands, taking no notice of what passed before him. She tried to think of
new dishes to tempt his appetite, and shook her head sadly as she bore
the untasted food back to the kitchen.

She sometimes found a portfolio of drawings lying open upon his study
table. She remembered the zeal with which he had planned to remodel the
church and parsonage, when he first came to them; how his enthusiasm had
gradually died for lack of encouragement; and how he had at last put
his books in a cupboard, where they grew dusty from long neglect. She
marvelled at their reappearance now, but something in his set, far-away
look made her afraid to inquire. Thus she went on from day to day,
growing more impatient with Hasty and more silent with the pastor.

Mandy needed humor and companionship to oil the wheels of her humdrum
life; there was no more laughter in the house, and she began to droop.

Polly had been away from the parsonage a month, when the complacency
of the village was again upset by the arrival of the "Great American
Circus."

There were many callers at the parsonage that day, for speculation was
now at fever heat about the pastor. "Would he try to see her? had he
forgotten her? and what had he ever found in her?" were a few of the
many questions that the women were asking each other. Now, that the
cause of their envy was removed, they would gladly have reinstated the
pastor as their idol; for, like all truly feminine souls, they could
not bear to see a man unhappy without wishing to comfort him, nor happy
unless they were the direct cause of his state. "How dare any man be
happy without me?" has been the cry of each woman since Eve was created
to mate with Adam.

Douglas had held himself more and more aloof from the day of Polly's
disappearance. He expressed no opinion about the deacons or their recent
disapproval of him. He avoided meeting them oftener than duty required;
and Strong felt so uncomfortable and tongue-tied in his presence that
he, too, was glad to make their talks as few as possible.

Nothing was said about the pastor's plans for the future,