His sadness reached its climax one bright afternoon in the late summer, when he noticed that even his episcopal blackbirds were leaving his elms and moving westward to the spruce trees of the manse.
He stood looking at them with melancholy on his face.

"Why, Edward," cried his sister, Philippa, as her motor stopped beside him, "how doleful you look! Get into the car and come out into the country for a ride.

Let the parish teas look after themselves for today." Tom, Philippa's husband, was driving his own car--he was rich enough to be able to--and seated with Philippa in the car was an unknown person, as prettily dressed as Philippa herself.

To the rector she was presently introduced as Miss Catherine Something--he didn't hear the rest of it.

Nor did he need to.