st persistent--he didn't
like being beaten. He went again and again and finally the Captain
sent him word that when he wanted parsons or pill-dosers he'd send
for them, and till he did he'd thank them to mind their own business.
They say Mr. Strong met Lynde once along shore and wanted to know if
she wouldn't come to church, and she laughed in his face and told him
she knew more about God now than he did or ever would. Perhaps the
story isn't true. Or if it was maybe he provoked her into saying it.
Mr. Strong wasn't overly tactful. I believe in judging the poor girl
as charitably as possible and making allowances for her, seeing how
she's been brought up. You couldn't expect her to know how to behave."

Somehow, Alan resented Mrs. Danby's charity. Then, his sense of humour
being strongly developed, he smiled to think of this commonplace old
lady "making allowances" for the splendid bit of femininity he had
seen on the shore. A plump barnyard fowl might as well have talked of
making allowances for a seagull!

Alan walked home with Isabel King but he was very silent as they went
together down the long, dark, sweet-smelling country road bordered by
its white orchards. Isabel put her own construction on his absent
replies to her remarks and presently she asked him, "Did you think
Lynde Oliver handsome?"

The question gave Alan an annoyance out of all proportion to its
significance. He felt an instinctive reluctance to discuss Lynde
Oliver with Isabel King.

"I saw her only for a moment," he said coldly, "but she impressed me
as being a beautiful woman."

"They tell queer stories about her--but maybe they're not all true,"
said Isabel, unable to keep the sneer of malice out of her voice. At
that moment Alan's secret contempt for her crystallized into
pronounced aversion. He made no reply and they went the rest of the
way in silence. At her gate Isabel said, "You haven't been over to see
us very lately, Mr. Douglas."

"My congregation is a large one and I cannot visit all my people as
often as I might wish," Alan answered, all the more coldly for the
personal note in her tone. "A minister's time is not his own, you
know."

"Shall you be going to see the Olivers?" asked Isabel bluntly.

"I have not considered that question. Good-night, Miss King."

On his way back to the manse Alan did consider the question. Should he
make any attempt to establish friendly relations with the residents of
Four Winds? It surprised hi