“I said that daughter of yours, or niece, or whatever she is, this Grace Van Horne, has been meeting young Ellery, our minister, in Peters's grove. Been meeting him and walking with him, and kissing him, and—”
“It's a lie! It ain't so, Elkanah! Prove it or—It—it CAN'T be so, can it? Please—”
“It is so. She's met him in those pines every Sunday afternoon for a long time. She was seen there with him this afternoon.”
“Who—who saw her?”
“Never mind. The one that did'll never tell—unless it's necessary. They're fixing to be married, and—”
“MARRIED! She marry a Reg'lar minister! Oh—”
“Hush! Listen! They ain't married yet. We can stop 'em, you and I, if we get right to work. It isn't too late. Will you help?”
“Will I—I—Go on! tell me more.”
“We can stop 'em. I know it would be a good catch for her, the sneaking, designing—Well, never mind. But it can't be. It shan't be. You've got to tell her so, Hammond. We folks of the Regular church have pride in our society; we won't have it disgraced. And we have been proud of our minister, the young, rattle-headed fool! We'll save him if we can. If we can't”—the speaker's teeth grated—“then we'll send him to eternal smash or die trying.”
“But I can't believe it's true. It's a mistake; some other girl and not Gracie. Why, she don't even know him. She wouldn't—But she HAS been out every Sunday afternoon for weeks. If it SHOULD be!”