Mistress White took up the flowers, not answering the challenge, but glancing under her long lashes at the ex-captain, to whom presently the overseer turned, saying, “Would thee give me a word or two with thee by ourselves, Richard?”

“There are none in the parlor,” said Priscilla, “if thee will talk there.”

“If,” said Wholesome, “it be of business, let it wait till to-morrow, and I will call upon thee:  I am not altogether myself to-day.”

“Nay,” said Nicholas, gathering himself up a little, “thee must know theeself that I would not come to thee here for business:  thee knows my exactness in such matters.”

“And for what, then, are you come?” said Wholesome with unusual abruptness.

“For speech of that in thee conduct which were better, as between an elder friend and a younger, to be talked over alone,” said Mr. Oldmixon severely.

Now, Wholesome, though disgusted by his lack of power to keep the silent pledges he had given when he entered the Society of Friends, was not dissatisfied with his conduct as he judged it by his own standard of right.  Moreover, like many warm-hearted people, he was quick of temper, as we have seen.  His face flushed, and he paused beside the overseer:  “There are none here who do not know most of what passed this morning; but as you do not know all, let me advise you to hold your peace and go your ways, and leave me to such reproach as God may send me.”

“If that God send thee any,” muttered Schmidt.

But Nicholas Oldmixon was like a war-horse smelling the battle afar off, and anything like resistance to an overseer in the way of duty roused him into the sternness which by no means belonged to the office, but rather to the man.  “If,” he said, “any in membership with us do countenance or promote tumults, they shall be dealt with as disorderly persons.  Wherefore did thee give way to rash violence this morning?”

Priscilla grew pale, I think.  She said, “Friend Nicholas, thee forgets the Christian courtesy of our people one to another.  Let it rest a while:  friend Richard may come to think better of it by and by.”

“And that I trust he may never,” muttered Schmidt.

But the overseer was not to be stayed.  “Thee would do better to mind the things of thy house and leave us,” he said.  “The ways of this young man have been more than once a scandal, and are like to come before the preparative meeting to be dealt with.”

“Sir,” returned Wholesome, approaching him and quite forgetting his plain speech to make it plainer, “your manners do little credit to your age or your place.  Listen:  I told you to speak no more of this matter;” and he seized him by the lappel of his coat and drew him aside a few paces.  “For your own sake, I mean.  Let it die out, with no more of talk or nonsense.”

“For my sake!” exclaimed the overseer; “and why?  Most surely thee forgets theeself.”