A shade crossed Worthing's expansive face. "Of course a parson has different ideas about things," he said. "She did divorce her first husband, it's true; but he was a rotter of the worst type. There was never anything against her. She was before our time, but a fellow told me that when she was on the stage she was as straight as they make 'em, though lively and larky. All I can say is that if your girls were mine I shouldn't object to their knowing her." "Oh, well, that's enough for me. They probably won't want to be bosom friends. It would be awkward, though, having people about that one didn't want to know. According to Mercer, there aren't many people about here that one _would_ want to know, except a few parsons and their families. He seems to have a down on the lot of them." "Well, between you and me," said Worthing confidentially, "I shouldn't take much notice of what Mercer says, if I were you. He's a nice enough fellow, but he does seem, somehow, to get at loggerheads with people. I wouldn't say anything against the chap behind his back, but you'd find it out for yourself in time. You'll see everybody there is, and you can judge for yourself." "Oh, yes, I can do that all right. Let's go and play bridge. The girls are pretty good at it." CHAPTER VI VISITORS Mrs. Walter and Mollie were at their mid-day Sunday dinner. Stone Cottage, where they lived, stood at the top of the village street. It had a fair-sized drawing-room and a little bandbox of a dining-room, with three bedrooms and an attic, and a garden of about half an acre. Its rent was under thirty pounds a year, and it was as nice a little country home as a widow lady with a very small income and her daughter could wish for.