"It grieves me," Mrs. Tweedie began, "to think that we are engaged upon an enterprise to which our worthy pastor is so much opposed, but I do not see my way clear to yield to his opposition. Surely the club cannot give up the entertainment."
"All we can do," said Mrs. Stout, "is to go ahead with the show and pay no attention to what he says."
"Mrs. Stout, our entertainment is not to be a 'show' in any sense," replied Mrs. Tweedie, indignantly.
"As I said once before to-day, it may be for some of us," retorted Mrs. Stout.
"Well, I attend Mr. Flint's church," said Mrs. Jones, "and have the greatest respect for him, but I must say that I cannot fully agree with him in his ideas about the stage."
"Nor I," said Miss Sawyer.
"He's too stiff-backed for me," was Mrs. Stout's contribution.
"Me too," chirped Fanny, and her mother and Mrs. Blake silently agreed with the others. For once they were of one mind. Mr. Flint could rave until he was hoarse.
"For the land sakes!" suddenly exclaimed Mrs. Stout, as she sat up very straight with her eyes fixed upon something on the other side of the room. Then, as though controlled by some mysterious, irresistible force, she got up and walked toward the mantel, and when near enough to be sure that her eyes were not deceiving her, stopped. "If it ain't a picture of Sam Billin's!"
Miss Sawyer blushed, and wondered how she could have been so careless. Poor Lizzie, with her Sam was a sort of "forlorn hope," and everybody knew it, but Mrs. Stout did not spare her.