At the crossroads Mr.Mullen left her to return to an afternoon Sunday school, and she was about to stop at the ordinary to ask William to see her safely over the pasture, when Abel Revercomb, looking a trifle awkward in his Sunday clothes, came out of the house and held out his hand for the basket.
"I thought you'd be coming home this way after dinner," he said, turning his throat when he moved.

His hair was brushed flat on his head as was his habit on Sundays, and he wore a vivid purple tie, which he had bought on his last journey to Applegate.

He had never looked worse, nor had he ever felt quite so confident of the entire correctness of his appearance.
As Molly made no reply, but merely fell into step at his side, he inquired, after a moment's pause, "How did you enjoy the sermon ?" "Oh, I don't like to be preached at, and I'm sorry for Mr.Mullen's wife if he expects her to ease everybody's pains in the parish.

He looked very handsome in church," she added, "didn't you think so ?" "I didn't notice," he answered ruefully.

"I never pay any attention to the way a man looks, in church or out of it." "Well, I do--and even Judy Hatch does.