There was something as near to a blush on her face as her brother had ever seen.
"But she was not there!" he said.
"No," answered Juliana, "but Mr. Dumfarthing was. I stayed and talked some time with him, waiting for her."
The rector gave a sort of whistle, or rather that blowing out of air which is the episcopal symbol for it.
"Didn't you find him pretty solemn?" he said.
"Solemn!" answered his sister. "Surely, Edward, a man in such a calling as his ought to be solemn."
"I don't mean that exactly," said the rector; "I mean—er—hard, bitter, so to speak."
"Edward!" exclaimed Juliana, "how can you speak so. Mr. Dumfarthing hard! Mr. Dumfarthing bitter! Why, Edward, the man is gentleness and kindness itself. I don't think I ever met anyone so full of sympathy, of compassion with suffering."
Juliana's face had flushed It was quite plain that she saw things in the Reverend Uttermust Dumfarthing—as some one woman does in every man—that no one else could see.
The Reverend Edward was abashed. "I wasn't thinking of his character," he said. "I was thinking rather of his doctrines. Wait till you have heard him preach."