“That’s all right.  Leave that to me,” said the lady.

“In the second place,” Theron went on, still more hesitatingly, “there seems a certain—­what shall I say?—­indirection in—­in—­”

“In getting them together for a revival, and springing a debt-raising on them?” Sister Soulsby put in.  “Why, man alive, that’s the best part of it.  You ought to be getting some notion by this time what these Octavius folks of yours are like.  I’ve only been here two days, but I’ve got their measure down to an allspice.  Supposing you were to announce tomorrow that the debt was to be raised Monday.  How many men with bank-accounts would turn up, do you think?  You could put them all in your eye, sir—­all in your eye!”

“Very possibly you’re right,” faltered the young minister.

“Right?  Why, of course I’m right,” she said, with placid confidence.  “You’ve got to take folks as you find them; and you’ve got to find them the best way you can.  One place can be worked, managed, in one way, and another needs quite a different way, and both ways would be dead frosts—­complete failures—­in a third.”

Brother Soulsby coughed softly here, and shuffled his feet for an instant on the carpet.  His wife resumed her remarks with slightly abated animation, and at a slower pace.

“My experience,” she said, “has shown me that the Apostle was right.  To properly serve the cause, one must be all things to all men.  I have known very queer things indeed turn out to be means of grace.  You simply can’t get along without some of the wisdom of the serpent.  We are commanded to have it, for that matter.  And now, speaking of that, do you know when the Presiding Elder arrives in town today, and where he is going to eat supper and sleep?”

Theron shook his head.  “All I know is he isn’t likely to come here,” he said, and added sadly, “I’m afraid he’s not an admirer of mine.”

“Perhaps that’s not all his fault,” commented Sister Soulsby.  “I’ll tell you something.  He came in on the same train as my husband, and that old trustee Pierce of yours was waiting for him with his buggy, and I saw like a flash what was in the wind, and the minute the train stopped I caught the Presiding Elder, and invited him in your name to come right here and stay; told him you and Alice were just set on his coming—­wouldn’t take no for an answer.  Of course he couldn’t come—­I knew well enough he had promised old Pierce—­but we got in our invitation anyway, and it won’t do you any harm.  Now, that’s what I call having some gumption—­wisdom of the serpent, and so on.”

“I’m sure,” remarked Alice, “I should have been mortified to death if he had come.  We lost the extension-leaf to our table in moving, and four is all it’ll seat decently.”

Sister Soulsby smiled winningly into the wife’s honest face.  “Don’t you see, dear,” she explained patiently, “I only asked him because I knew he couldn’t come.  A little butter spreads a long way, if it’s only intelligently warmed.”