"Dear me, and it's the talk of the whole parish. But, then, I suppose
you've been so taken up with this new addition to your family that you
have had no time to give to the cares of the widow and the fatherless."

A perceptible shade of annoyance passed over Parson Dan's face, and a
sharp word of retort sprang to his lips. He repressed this, however,
and answered as gently as possible.

"You know, Mrs. Marden," he began, "that often I am the last person to
hear what is being said throughout the parish. I try not to listen to
all the gossip which takes place, as I have more important things to
occupy my mind. So----"

"And you don't consider my troubles important enough to listen to, eh?"
Mrs. Marden interrupted. "Well, I declare. I never heard the like of
that, and you my clergyman, too."

"Let me explain, please," the parson continued. "As I said, I seldom
listen to gossip, because so much of it is of such a frivolous nature.
Therefore, when anything of real importance is talked about, as a rule
I do not hear that, either. In that way I have missed your story, Mrs.
Marden. But when you come yourself to tell me, that makes all the
difference, and I am ever ready to listen."

While Parson Dan was thus enduring with considerable patience his
wearisome visitor, Rodney was creeping about the kitchen floor in a
most lively manner. The dining-room door was ajar, and at last when
Mrs. Royal's back was turned, he reached forth a small chubby hand,
opened the door and entered. The parson saw him, but paid no attention
to his movements. Mrs. Marden, however, who was sitting with her back