“No,” he said.  “I think, on the whole, that that is unreasonable.  I should get wet and, though I don’t mind it when it is necessary, I—­”

“Well?” rather sharply, “what are you going to do?”

“Go with you as far as your gate.  I’m sorry, if my company is distasteful, but—­”

He did not finish the sentence, thinking, it may be, that she might finish it for him.  But she was silent, merely removing her hand from the handle.  She took a step forward; he followed, holding the umbrella above her head.  They plashed on, without speaking, through the rapidly forming puddles.

Presently she stumbled and he caught her arm to prevent her falling.  To his surprise he felt that arm shake in his grasp.

“Why, Miss Van Horne!” he exclaimed in great concern, “are you crying?  I beg your pardon.  Of course I wouldn’t think of going another step with you.  I didn’t mean to trouble you.  I only—­If you will please take this umbrella—­”

Again he tried to transfer the umbrella and again she pushed it away.

“I—­I’m not crying,” she gasped; “but—­oh, dear! this is so funny!”

Mr. Ellery gazed blankly at her through the rain-streaked dark.  This was the most astonishing young person he had met in his twenty-three years of worldly experience.

“Funny!” he repeated.  “Well, perhaps it is.  Our ideas of fun seem to differ.  I—­”

“Oh, but it is so funny.  You don’t understand.  What do you think your congregation would say if they knew you had been to a Come-Outers’ meeting and then insisted on seeing a Come-Outer girl home?”

John Ellery swallowed hard.  A vision of Captain Elkanah Daniels and the stately Miss Annabel rose before his mind’s eye.  He hadn’t thought of his congregation in connection with this impromptu rescue of a damsel in distress.

“Ha, ha!” he laughed mournfully.  “I guess it is rather funny, after all.”

“It certainly is.  Now will you leave me and go back to your parsonage?”

“Not unless you take the umbrella.”

“Very well.  It is a beautiful evening for a walk, don’t you think so?  Mr. Ellery, I’m afraid we shan’t have you with us in Trumet very long.”

“Why not?”

“Oh, because you’re so very, very original.  Are your sermons that way, too?  Captain Elkanah doesn’t like his ministers to be too original.”

The minister set his teeth.  At that moment he felt an intense desire to bid the Daniels family mind their own business.  Then another thought struck him.

“Possibly your Uncle Eben might be somewhat—­er—­surprised if he knew you were with me.  Perhaps he might have something to say on the subject.”

“I guess he would.  We shall know very soon.  I ran away and left him with Mrs. Poundberry, our housekeeper.  He doesn’t know where I am.  I wonder he hasn’t turned back to look for me before this.  We shall probably meet him at any moment.”