Madam Helseth.
Has the Rector gone? What was the matter with him?
Rebecca.
[Takes up her crochet work.] He said he thought there was a heavy storm brewing——
Madam Helseth.
What a strange notion! There’s not a cloud in the sky this evening.
Rebecca.
Let us hope he mayn’t meet the White Horse! I’m afraid we shall soon be hearing something from the bogies now.
Madam Helseth.
Lord forgive you, Miss! Don’t say such awful things.