But even in the heat of the campaign Scattergood found time to drive out to Xenophon Banks's. The road to Banks's was fairly well traveled these days, for there was hardly a day that did not see either Selina Pettybone or Parson Hooper driving out to the little house, and, strangely enough, the days on which both were present appeared to be in the majority. Scattergood dropped out now and then with pockets full of stick candy, which he never delivered himself, but which he always handed to the minister or to Selina to be given anonymously after he was gone. He seemed as much interested in watching Selina and Jason as he was in talking with Xenophon, and he might have been perceived frequently to nod his head with satisfaction--especially on the day when he heard Jason call Selina by her first name, and on the other day when he saw the young minister retaining Selina's hand longer than he should have done in saying good afternoon. That day Jason drove back to town with Scattergood. "Likely-lookin' girl--Seliny," observed Scattergood. "Beautiful," said the parson, and Scattergood grinned. "Um!... Single ministers is a menace. Yes, sir, churches has busted up on account of their ministers not bein' married." There was no reply. "But I calculate you're different. You're jest made and created to be an old batch. Never seen sich a feller. Couldn't no girl interest you, not if she was the Queen of Sheeby." "Mr. Baines," said Jason, after a pause, "I'm very miserable. I--I think I shall resign from my church and go away." "Sandrich Islands or somewheres--missionery feller?" said Scattergood. "I--why, yes, that's what I'll do.... I wish I'd never seen her." Then he corrected himself sharply. "No, I don't. I'm glad I've seen her. I've got that much, anyhow. I can always remember her and think about how sweet and beautiful she was--" "And die at the age of eighty with her name comin' from your lips on your last breath. To be sure.... Seems to me, though, it would be a sight more satisfyin' to live them fifty-odd years _with_ her and raise up a fam'ly, and git some benefits out of that sweetness and beauty and sich like, besides mullin' 'em over in your mind. Speakin' of Seliny, wasn't you?" "Yes." "Don't hanker to marry her?" "Mr. Baines--" "Then why in tunket don't you?" "She's a Baptist." "White, hain't she?" "Yes." "Respectable?" "Of course, sir." "Don't call to mind no state law ag'in' Congregationalists marryin' Baptists." "My congregation wouldn't allow it." "Hain't never seen no deed of sale of you to your congregation." "Her father would never permit it?" "Huh!..." "And she's an obedient daughter." "Has she said so?" "Y-yes." "Ho! Kind of human, after all, hain't you? Look pleased when she said it?" "She cried." "Comfort her--some." "I--She--she loves me, Mr. Baines." "Well, I snum! Kind of disobedient to love you, hain't it? Knows her father 'd be set ag'in' it?" "Yes, but she can't help that." "Why?"