"Not always."
"Well, then, there's the parish."
"You only do that to annoy."
"I don't! But to please you I will talk of your last sermon."
The Young Man was very hard to please; he said he preferred to know the exact ingredients of the stars, so I stopped Mamie to ask her, but she said we were becoming prosaic; the stars were really little holes in heaven's floor that the angels made to peep through. "That's what they taught at your school, didn't they, Reverend Young Man?"
"They did. My education has greatly helped me to retain my fond delusions and pet prejudices."
"Why, what an ideal education for a clergyman!"
"Since young ladies are taught to weigh the stars and won't listen for nightingales, it does seem good to me."
"Now, don't you get rattled. Mistress Mary, you have been rubbing him up the wrong way, and, mercy me! however can a poor Yank hear your nightingale? That is a delusion I must part with unless he condescends to commence soon."