CHAPTER XVIII.
They rode quite silently to the house of the minister with whom John had exchanged, where they were to dine; after that, the preacher was to go back to the church for the afternoon sermon.
Mrs.Grier, a spare, anxious-looking woman, with a tight friz of hair about her temples which were thin and shining, met them at the door.

She had hurried home to "see to things," and be ready to welcome her guests.
John she ushered at once into her husband's study, a poor little room, with even fewer books than Mr.Ward's own, while Helen she took to the spare chamber, where she had thoughtfully provided a cambric dress for her, for the day had grown very warm, and the riding-habit was heavy.
She sat down in a splint rocking-chair, and watched her guest brush out her length of shining bronze hair, and twist it in a firm coil low on her neck.
"It was a good gathering," she said; "people came from a distance to hear Mr.Ward.The folks at Lockhaven are favored to listen to such preaching." "No doubt they feel favored to have Mr.Grier with them to-day," Helen answered, courteously; but there was an absent look in her eyes, and she did not listen closely.
"Well, people like a change once in a while," Mrs.Grier admitted, rocking hard.

"Mr.Grier's discourse was to be on the same subject as your husband's, foreign missions.

It is one that moves the preachers, and the people seem to like it, I notice, though I don't know that it makes much difference in the collections.

But I think they like to get all harrowed up.