But the fact concerns us more than the reason of it, just now.
"Who do you think is coming, Mr.Gridley?
Who do you think is coming ?" said Susan Posey, her face covered with a carnation such as the first season may see in a city belle, but not the second.
"Well, Susan Posey, I suppose I must guess, though I am rather slow at that business.

Perhaps the Governor.

No, I don't think it can be the Governor, for you would n't look so happy if it was only his Excellency.
It must be the President, Susan Posey,--President James Buchanan.

Have n't I guessed right, now, tell me, my dear ?" "O Mr.Gridley, you are too bad,--what do I care for governors and presidents?
I know somebody that's worth fifty million thousand presidents,--and he 's coming,--my Clement is coming," said Susan, who had by this time learned to consider the awful Byles Gridley as her next friend and faithful counsellor.
Susan could not stay long in the house after she got her note informing her that her friend was soon to be with her.

Everybody told everything to Olive Eveleth, and Susan must run over to the parsonage to tell her that there was a young gentleman coming to Oxbow Village; upon which Olive asked who it was, exactly as if she did not know; whereupon Susan dropped her eyes and said, "Clement,--I mean Mr.Lindsay." That was a fair piece of news now, and Olive had her bonnet on five minutes after Susan was gone, and was on her way to Bathsheba's,--it was too bad that the poor girl who lived so out of the world shouldn't know anything of what was going on in it.