"It is a unanimous vote," Mrs. Tweedie announced. Mrs. Stout smiled. She well knew that some of them hated to do it, but they wanted to be on the popular side, and this time it happened to be right.
"Well," she said, quizzically, as she looked about at the comically sad-faced women, "I must say that you're the glumist lookin' lot of mornin' glories I ever see."
Chapter XXIII
Coals of Fire
Barbara's new task as nurse and housekeeper at the parsonage was not an easy one, but after the second day she had everything in good order—everything except her patient. For him there was little hope—Barbara knew, and Mr. Flint himself knew.
When the minister first saw her after he had been lying alone for hours his only thought was that she had come to demand something. He had publicly denounced her; she had been turned away from his door; what could she have come for except revenge?
"I have come to take care of you, Mr. Flint," was all that she had said, but it was enough to reassure him.