“It is so.  She’s met him in those pines every Sunday afternoon for a long time.  She was seen there with him this afternoon.”

“Who—­who saw her?”

“Never mind.  The one that did’ll never tell—­unless it’s necessary.  They’re fixing to be married, and—­”

“Married!  She marry a Reg’lar minister!  Oh—­”

“Hush!  Listen!  They ain’t married yet.  We can stop ’em, you and I, if we get right to work.  It isn’t too late.  Will you help?”

“Will I—­I—­Go on! tell me more.”

“We can stop ’em.  I know it would be a good catch for her, the sneaking, designing—­Well, never mind.  But it can’t be.  It shan’t be.  You’ve got to tell her so, Hammond.  We folks of the Regular church have pride in our society; we won’t have it disgraced.  And we have been proud of our minister, the young, rattle-headed fool!  We’ll save him if we can.  If we can’t”—­the speaker’s teeth grated—­“then we’ll send him to eternal smash or die trying.”

“But I can’t believe it’s true.  It’s a mistake; some other girl and not Gracie.  Why, she don’t even know him.  She wouldn’t—­But she has been out every Sunday afternoon for weeks.  If it should be!”

“It is.  I tell you it is.  Don’t waste time rolling your eyes and talking stuff.  We’ve got to work and you’ve got to work first.  I don’t know whether you’re only making believe or not.  I realize that ’twould be a good thing for your girl to marry a promising young chap like him, but—­Hush! let me go on.  I tell you, Hammond, it can’t be.  We won’t let her.  I won’t let her.  I’m a man of influence in this town, and outside of it, too.  I’m head of the parish committee and a member of the National Regular Society.  I can’t reach your precious ward, maybe, but I can reach the fellow she’s after, and if he marries her, I’ll drive ’em both to the poorhouse.

“Here’s where you come in, Hammond.  It may be she does really care for him.  Or maybe she’s after position and money.  Well, you talk to her.  You tell her that if she keeps on going with him, if she doesn’t break off this damnable business now, tomorrow, I’ll ruin John Ellery as sure as I’m a living man.  He’ll be ruined in Trumet, anyhow.  He’ll be thrown out by the parish committee.  I’m not sure that his church people won’t tar and feather him.  Marrying a low-down Come-Outer hussy!  As if there wa’n’t decent girls of good families he might have had!  But losing this church won’t be the only thing that’ll happen to him.  The committee’ll see that he doesn’t get another one.  I’ll use my influence and have him thrown out of the Regular ministry.  Think I can’t?  What sort of yarns do you suppose will be told about him and her, meeting the way they did?  Won’t the county papers print some fine tales?  Won’t the Boston ones enjoy such a scandal?  I tell you, Eben Hammond, that young chap’s name will be dragged so deep in the mud it’ll never get clean again.”