t was him."

"You don't mean--"

"I think it was Thomas Merriam, and he was tryin' to get up the back
stairs unbeknownst to anybody, and he run into something."

"What for?"

"Because he didn't want to see _us_."

"Now, Arabella Mann, I don't believe it! He's always real pleasant to
me."

"Well, I do believe it, and I guess he'll know it when I set foot in
that house again. I guess he'll find out I didn't go there to see
him! He needn't feel so fine, if he is the minister; his folks ain't
any better than mine, an' we've got 'nough sight handsomer furniture
in our parlor."

"Did you see how the tallow had all run down over the candles?"

"Yes, I did. She gave that candle she carried out in the kitchen to
him, too. Mother says she wasn't never any kind of a housekeeper."

"Hush! Arabella: here he is coming now."

But it was not Thomas; it was his father, advancing through the
evening with his son's gait and carriage. When the two girls
discovered that, one tittered out quite audibly, and they scuttled
past. They were not rivals; they simply walked faithfully side by
side in pursuit of the young minister, giving him as it were an
impartial choice. There were even no heart-burnings between them; one
always confided in the other when she supposed herself to have found
some slight favor in Thomas's sight; and, indeed, the young minister
could scarcely bow to one upon the street unless she flew to the
other with the news.

Thomas Merriam himself was aware of all this devotion on the part of
the young women of his flock, and it filled him with a sort of angry
shame. He could not have told why, but he despised himself for being
the object of their attention more than he despised them. His heart
sank at the idea of Evelina's discovering it. What would she think of
him if she knew all those young women haunted his house and lagged
after meeting on the chance of getting a word from him? Suppose she
should see their eyes upon his face in meeting time, and decipher
their half-unconscious boldness, as he had done against his will.
Once Evelina had looked at him, even as the older Evelina had looked
at his father, and all other looks of maidens seemed to him like
profanations of that, even although he doubted afterwards that he had
rightly interpreted it. Full it had seemed to him of that tender
maiden surprise and wonder, of that love that knows not itself, and
sees its own splendor for the first time in another's face,