"I have been down at Elmfield," the new-comer went on, not at all disturbed by his reception; "and some one informed me I should find a large circle of friends if I came here; so I came. And I find I was told truly."
"I guess we'd most given you up," said the mistress of the house, coming out of her corner now.
"I don't know what reason you had to expect me! Nobody asked me to come."
"We're real glad to see you. Take a chair," said Mrs. Starling, setting one for his acceptance as she spoke.
"Mr. Hardenburgh allays used to come to our little meetin's," said Mrs.
Mansfield.
"Thank you!—And you expect me to do all that Mr. Hardenburgh did?"
There was such a quaint air of good-fellowship and simplicity in the new minister's manner, that the little assembly began to stir anew with gratification and amusement. But nobody was forward to answer. In fact, they were a trifle shy of him. The late Mr. Hardenburgh had been heavy and slow; kind, of course, but stiff; you knew just what he would do and how he would speak beforehand. There was a delightful freshness and uncertainty about this man. Nothing imposing, either; a rather small, slight figure; with a face that might or might not be called handsome, according to the fancy of the speaker, but that all would agree was wonderfully attractive and winning. A fine broad brow; an eye very sweet; with a build of the jaw and lines of the mouth speaking both strength and the absolutest calm of the mental nature.
"I was afraid I should be late," he went on, looking at his watch,—"but the roads are good. How far do you call it from Elmfield?"
"All of five miles," said Mrs. Starling.
"Yes; and one hill to cross. Well! I came pretty well. The long June afternoon favoured me."