The minister said that he was very comfortable indeed.

“It isn’t what you’ve been used to, we know,” observed Miss Annabel.  “Mr. Langley, our former pastor, was a sweet old gentleman, but he was old-fashioned and his tastes were queer, especially in art.  Have you noticed that ‘fruit piece’ in the dining room?  Isn’t it too ridiculous?”

Ellery admitted that the fruit piece was rather funny; but no doubt it had been a gift and so

—­“Yes, indeed.  I guess it was a present, fast enough.  Nobody would buy such a thing.  It seems strange to pa and me that, although so many of our people have been abroad, they have such strange ideas of art.  Do you remember the beautiful marbles in the palaces at Florence, Mr. Ellery?  Of course you’ve seen them?”

The minister was obliged to admit that he had never been abroad.

“Oh, is that so?  I’ve been so many times with pa that it seems almost as if everybody was as familiar with Yurrup as I am.  You remember what I said about the marbles, pa?”

Her parent nodded.

“Hum—­ha!  Oh, yes, yes,” he said.  “That was when I was in the fruit-carrying trade and made a voyage to Valenchy.”

“Valencia, pa,” corrected Annabel.  “And Valencia is in Spain.”

“I know it.  But we went to Leghorn afterwards.  I sailed to Cronstadt for some years regular.  Cronstadt is in Rooshy, Mr. Ellery.”

“Russia, pa,” snapped his daughter.  Then she changed the subject to church and parish affairs.  They spoke of the sewing circle and the reading society and the Friday-evening meetings.

“The Come-Outers are so vexed with us,” tittered Miss Annabel, “that they won’t even hold prayer meeting on the same night as ours.  They have theirs on Thursday nights and it’s as good as a play to hear them shout and sing and carry on.  You’ll enjoy the Come-Outers, Mr. Ellery.  They’re a perfect delight.”

And as they rose to go Captain Elkanah asked: 

“Is there anything you’d like done about the parsonage, Mr. Ellery?  If so, it shall be done immejitly.  How are you satisfied with your housekeeper?”

“Very well, indeed, Captain Daniels,” was the prompt reply.

“She’s a character, isn’t she?” giggled Annabel.  “She was born here in Trumet, but went away to New Bedford when she was young and grew up there.  Her maiden name was Hall, but while she was away she married a man named Ansel Coffin.  They didn’t live together very long and weren’t happy, I guess.  I don’t know whose fault it was, nobody knows much of anything about it, for that’s the one thing she won’t talk about.  Anyhow, the Coffin man was lost to sea, and after a while she came back to keep house for her brother Solomon.  She’s an awful odd stick, but she’s a good cook, I believe; though I’m afraid you won’t get the meals people such as ourselves, who’ve been so much in the city, are used to.”

Ellery thought of the meals at his city boarding house and shuddered.  He was an orphan and had boarded for years.  Incidentally, he had worked his way through college.  Captain Elkanah cleared his throat.