Her husband surveyed her with satisfaction.
“My dear,” he said, “you are a fitting helpmeet for the Rev. Mr. Barnes, of Hayfield Centre. By Jove, you do me credit!”
“'By Jove' is not a proper expression for a man of your profession, Mr. Barnes,” said the new minister's wife, with a smile.
“You are right, my dear. I must eschew profanity, and cultivate a decorous style of speech. Well, are we ready?”
“I am.”
“Then let us set forth on our pilgrimage. We will imagine, Mrs. Barnes, that we are about to make some pastoral calls.”
They emerged into the street. On the way downstairs they met Mrs. Flagg, the landlady, who bowed respectfully. She was somewhat puzzled, however, not knowing when they were let in.
“Good-morning, madam,” said Mr. Barnes. “Are you the landlady of this establishment?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I have been calling on one of your lodgers—Mr. Anthony Blodgett (this was the name by which Mr. Felix Montgomery was known in the house). He is a very worthy man.”