"Good-evening," said Dr. Dennis; "How do you do this evening? Mr. Harrison, do you know this lady? She is one of my flock."
No, Mr. Harrison did not know her; and introductions followed. After she passed by, Mr. Harrison said, "I think you told me once that she had been an infidel?"
"It was a mistake," Dr. Dennis said, hastily. "She had peculiar views, and I think she imagined herself at one time an unbeliever; but she is really wonderfully well grounded in the doctrines of the church; she is like an old Christian."
Many of Dr. Dennis' people were abroad; the next passer by was Eurie Mitchell; the doctor stopped her. "One minute, Miss Eurie, how is your mother to-night? Mr. Harrison, do you know Miss Mitchell, the doctor's daughter?"
Yes, Mr. Harrison had met Miss Mitchell before. In the fast coming dusk, Dr. Dennis failed to see the flush of embarrassment on his friend's cheek, as he acknowledged the introduction.
"She is a grand girl," Dr. Dennis said, looking after her. "Her development is wonderful; more marked of late, I think, than before. Well, as you say, they were unusual girls, but I tell you, we as pastors have reason to say: 'God bless Chautauqua.'"
"Amen," said Mr. Harrison, and Dr. Dennis thought him unusually earnest and intense, especially when he added:
"I propose we go next year, and take with us as many of our respective flocks as we can beguile into it."
"Aye, that we will," Dr. Dennis answered; then the two gentlemen went on their respective ways.
It was a large city, and they were both busy ministers, and lived far apart, and met but seldom, except in their ministerial meetings; there was chance for each to have interests that the other knew nothing about.