"Are grey horses fashionable?" inquired Mrs. Reverdy, with her little laugh.
"What would he do without his horse?" said Mrs. Boddington. "How could he fly round Pleasant Valley as he does?"
"He ain't bound to fly," said Mrs. Flandin.
"How's he to get round to folks, then?" said Mrs. Salter. "The houses are pretty scattering in these parts; he'd be a spry man if he could walk it."
"Seems to me, that 'ere grey hoss is real handy," said quiet Miss Barry, who never contradicted anybody. "When Meliny was sick, Mr. Masters'd be there, to our house, early in the mornin' and late at night; and he allays had comfort with him. There! I got to set as much by the sight o' that grey hoss, you wouldn't think; just to hear him come gallopin' down the road did me good."
"Yes; and so it was to our house, when Liz was overturned," said Mary Delamater. "He'd be there every day, just as punctual as could be; and he could never have walked over. It's a cruel piece of road between our house and his'n."
"I don't want him to walk," said Mrs. Flandin; "there's more ways than one o' doin' most things; but I do say, all the ministers ever I see druv a team; and it looks more religious. To see the minister flyin' over the hills like a racer is altogether too gay for my likin's."
"But he ain't gay," said Miss Gunn, looking appalled.
"He's mighty spry, for anybody that gets up into a pulpit on the
Sabbath and tells his fellow-creaturs what they ought to be doin'."
"But he does do that, Mrs. Flandin," said Diana. "He speaks plain enough, too."