"Do you mean to say, Mis' Flandin, you approve of quarrels between man and wife? and quarrels in high places, too?"
"High places!" echoed Mrs. Flandin. "When it says that a minister is to be the servant of all!"
"And ain't he?" said Mrs. Carpenter. "Is there a place or a thing our minister don't go to if he's wanted? and does he mind whether it's night or day, or rough or smooth? and does he care how fur it is, or how long he goes without his victuals? I will say, I never did see a no more self-forgetful man than is Mr. Masters; and I've a good right to know, and I say it with feelin's of gratitude."
"That's jes' so," said Miss Barry, her eyes glistening over her knitting, which they did not need to watch. And there was a hum of assent through the room.
"I'm not sayin' nothin' agin him," said Mrs. Flandin in an injured manner; "but what I was hintin', I warn't sayin' nothin', is that he's married a"—
"A beauty"—said Mrs. Boddington.
"I don't set no count on beauty," said the other. "I allays think, ef a minister is a servant of the Lord, and I hope Mr. Masters is, it's a pity his wife shouldn't be too. That's all."
"But I am, Mrs. Flandin," said Diana quietly.
"What?"
"A servant of the Lord."