“Did you leave Woodville this morning? I thought I hadn’t heard you was in town,” replied Mrs. Timms formally. She was seated just a little too far away to make things seem exactly pleasant. The darkness of the best room seemed to retreat somewhat, and Miss Pickett looked over by the door, where there was a pale gleam from the sidelights in the hall, to try to see the pattern of the carpet; but her effort failed. “Yes, ’m,” replied Mrs. Flagg to the question. “We left Woodville about half past eight, but it is quite a ways from where we live to where you take the stage. The stage does come slow, but you don’t seem to mind it such a beautiful day.” “Why, you must have come right to see me first!” said Mrs. Timms, warming a little as the visit went on. “I hope you’re going to make some stop in town. I’m sure it was very polite of you to come right an’ see me; well, it’s very pleasant, I declare. I wish you’d been in Baxter last Sabbath; our minister did give us an elegant sermon on faith an’ works. He spoke of the conference, and gave his views on some o’ the questions that came up, at Friday evenin’ meetin’; but I felt tired after getting home, an’ so I wasn’t out. We feel very much favored to have such a man amon’st us. He’s building up the parish very considerable. I understand the pew-rents come to thirty-six dollars more this quarter than they did last.” “We also feel grateful in Woodville for our pastor’s efforts,” said Miss Pickett; but Mrs. Timms turned her head away sharply, as if the speech had been untimely, and trembling Miss Pickett had interrupted. “They’re thinking here of raisin’ Mr. Barlow’s salary another year,” the hostess added; “a good many of the old parishioners have died off, but every one feels to do what they can. Is there much interest among the young people in Woodville, Mis’ Flagg?” “Considerable at this time, ma’am,” answered Mrs. Flagg, without enthusiasm, and she listened with unusual silence to the subsequent fluent remarks of Mrs. Timms. The parlor seemed to be undergoing the slow processes of a winter dawn. After a while the three women could begin to see one another’s faces, which aided them somewhat in carrying on a serious and impersonal conversation. There were a good many subjects to be touched upon, and Mrs. Timms said everything that she should have said, except to invite her visitors to walk upstairs and take off their bonnets. Mrs. Flagg sat her parlor-chair as if it were a throne, and carried her banner of self-possession as high as she knew how, but toward the end of the call even she began to feel hurried.