affirmed that there was no mystery at all, but only that Mr. Hooper's
eyes were so weakened by the midnight lamp as to require a shade.

After a brief interval forth came good Mr. Hooper also, in the rear of
his flock. Turning his veiled face from one group to another, he paid
due reverence to the hoary heads, saluted the middle-aged with kind
dignity as their friend and spiritual guide, greeted the young with
mingled authority and love, and laid his hands on the little
children's heads to bless them. Such was always his custom on the
Sabbath-day. Strange and bewildered looks repaid him for his courtesy.
None, as on former occasions, aspired to the honor of walking by their
pastor's side. Old Squire Saunders--doubtless by an accidental lapse
of memory--neglected to invite Mr. Hooper to his table, where the good
clergyman had been wont to bless the food almost every Sunday since
his settlement. He returned, therefore, to the parsonage, and at the
moment of closing the door was observed to look back upon the people,
all of whom had their eyes fixed upon the minister. A sad smile
gleamed faintly from beneath the black veil and flickered about his
mouth, glimmering as he disappeared.

"How strange," said a lady, "that a simple black veil, such as any
woman might wear on her bonnet, should become such a terrible thing on
Mr. Hooper's face!"

"Something must surely be amiss with Mr. Hooper's intellects,"
observed her husband, the physician of the village. "But the strangest
part of the affair is the effect of this vagary even on a sober-minded
man like myself. The black veil, though it covers only our pastor's
face, throws its influence over his whole person and makes him
ghost-like from head to foot. Do you not feel it so?"