went at once to her room and closed the door.

At supper time it was just the same; neither the minister nor the
girl who sat opposite him had anything to say. But no sooner had Mrs.
Black begun to clear away the dishes than the two withdrew to the
vine-shaded porch, as if by common consent.

"She ought to know right off about Fanny Dodge and the minister,"
Mrs. Black told herself.

She was still revolving this in her mind as she walked sedately along
the street, the red and yellow striped bag clasped tightly in both
hands. Of course everybody in the village would suppose she knew all
about Lydia Orr. But the fact was she knew very little. The week
before, one of her customers in Grenoble, in the course of a business
transaction which involved a pair of chickens, a dozen eggs and two
boxes of strawberries, had asked, in a casual way, if Mrs. Black knew
any one in Brookville who kept boarders.

"The minister of our church boards with me," she told the Grenoble
woman, with pardonable pride. "I don't know of anybody else that
takes boarders in Brookville." She added that she had an extra room.

"Well, one of my boarders--a real nice young lady from Boston--has
taken a queer notion to board in Brookville," said the woman. "She
was out autoing the other day and went through there. I guess the
country 'round Brookville must be real pretty this time of year."

"Yes; it is, real pretty," she had told the Grenoble woman.