holding an habitual shade of perplexity. People said of
him that his heart outran his head, but they loved him not the less for
this--perhaps the more.

Upon his return to Kingsborough he applied himself conscientiously to
his cases, paid a series of social calls, and fell over head and ears in
love with Sally Burwell.

"There are two things which every respectable young man in Kingsborough
goes through with," remarked the rector's wife as she sat at breakfast
with her husband. "He becomes confirmed and he goes mad about Sally
Burwell. For my part it does not surprise me. She's not pretty, but no
man has ever found it out, and no man ever will. Did you notice that
muslin she had on in church last Sunday--all frills and tucks--"

"My mind was upon my sermon, dear," murmured the rector apologetically.

"But we've eyes as well as minds, and those of every man in the
congregation were on that dress of Sally's."

The rector meekly stirred his coffee.

"I have no doubt of it," he answered. "But what do you think of Tom's
chances, my dear?"

"They aren't worth a candle," returned his wife with an emphasis which
settled the question in the rector's mind.

Within a month Tom's chances were the topic of Kingsborough. They were
discussed at the post-office, at sewing societies, at church festivals.
Not a soul in the congregation but knew the number of times he had
accompanied her to evening services; not an inhabitant of the town but
was aware of the hour and the afternoon upon which they had last walked
through Lover's Lane.

When the state of affairs had gone the rounds of the community until
they were worn threadbare, they effected a final lodgment in the mind of
Mr. Burwell.

"I have made a little discovery," he announced one evening to his wife
as she was brushing her hair for the night.

Mrs. Burwell was all delighted attention.

"Why, what can it be?" she murmured with gratifying feminine curiosity.

"You may have noticed, my dear," began Mr. Burwell with a nervous glance
at Sally's chamber door across the hall, "that our friend Tom Bassett
has called frequently of late."

His wife nodded smilingly.

"Well, it has occurred to me from something I observed this evening that
it is Sally who attracts him."

Mrs. Burwell threw back her pretty head and laughed.

"Why, Mr. Burwell!" she exclaimed, "did you think that it was you--or
I--or your grandfather's portrait?"

Her husband looked slightly abashed.