"No, dear, no dead saints. We've got plenty of live ones."
"I like them better dead. I haven't gone into a church for years except for sight-seeing."
"Why, ain't you a professor?" asked the carpenter's bride, and in her dismay she leaned forward and laid a cotton-gloved hand on Derrice's knee.
"No, I never taught anything. I suppose teachers do have to go to church. Mine always did."
"She means a professor of religion," interposed Mrs. Prymmer.
"Oh, like you," said Derrice, innocently. "No, I have not that honour."
"I wish you'd join our church," said the widow and her daughter in a breath.
"Perhaps I will some day, if I stay here long enough," said Derrice, amiably.
"We've got such a good preacher," said the younger woman, enthusiastically.
"Is it Mr. Huntington?" asked Derrice.