"In matters of dress, Miss Warrender, did I become a married man I should naturally defer to the wishes of my wife." "You don't mean to say that you would dress like other people?" "Yes, Miss Warrender, I should do so, though it would not be without a pang that I should relinquish what I look upon as the true clerical garb." "Don't think of it, Mr. Puffin, don't think of it, for an instant. The noble savage in his war-paint, his wampum, his feathers and his scalps, is a dignified object; but dress him in a suit of common clothes and cut his hair and he ceases to be interesting." "Do you really think, Miss Warrender, that I should lose influence if I adopted the costume of ordinary life, should I enter upon the perilous sea of matrimony?" "Well, Mr. Puffin, if you dressed like other people and married, I don't see how, to use your own expression, 'the female members of your congregation could continue to look upon you as one of themselves,' because if they did, you see you would be only Mrs. Puffin's sister after all." "Yes, I am afraid that is the _reductio ad absurdum_. But we are wandering away, Miss Warrender; it was about my heart, and not about my garments, that I sought to converse with you." "Oh, Mr. Puffin, I should make the worst of confidants; I never by any chance keep a secret." "And yet I am ready to trust your discretion, Miss Warrender." "I confess you rouse my curiosity. Do I know the lady?" "Yes, Miss Warrender, she is your best friend and your worst enemy." "Now you intrigue me, Mr. Puffin, for all my acquaintances address me as their dearest Lucy, and as for my enemies--I've guessed it, Mr. Puffin. I never had an enemy till Mr. Sleek's hay making. I suppose Miss Connie Sleek is the bride-elect. Let me congratulate you, Mr. Puffin, but do tell me one thing, it is so interesting--what are Miss Sleek's ideas about the clerical garb?" "I fear you wilfully misunderstand me, Miss Warrender. My aspirations are higher. I do not think Miss Sleek would ever be the ideal wife for a clergyman." "You mystify me, Mr. Puffin." Mr. Puffin possessed a copy of the "Bab Ballads." He remembered two lines in them that gave him that hope which they say springs eternal in the human breast. "It isn't so much the lover who woos, As the lover's way of wooing." He remembered that Mr. Gilbert's successful lover came to the point at once, so, to use a hunting simile, he sat well down in his saddle, and he hardened his heart. "Dear Miss Warrender," he said, and there was a certain amount of dignity about the man, despite his long hair and his eccentric appearance, "I am only a working clergyman, but I am a gentleman; and I wish you, for both our sakes, to share my lot." Here Lucy Warrender cast down her pretty eyes and smiled, for she felt that she had won Haggard's new bonnet fairly and honestly. The parson continued, taking heart of grace from the false little smile upon her lips: