"You thought, Mr. Ainslee, that you met the handsomest and most
likeable chap on earth in Yokohama--if you remember," she reminded him
icily.

"Yes, of course--I remember. But I have come to believe that I was
somewhat mistaken in that boy in Yokohama. He lacked something that
this chap has--an elusive quality that is hard to put a name to but
which is one of the big essentials that makes for success."

"Ministers," drawled Nanny wickedly, "have never been noticeably
successful in Green Valley."

"No," admitted her father, "they haven't. And of course it's too bad
the boy's a minister. He's badly handicapped, naturally. Still, I
never remember when I'm with him that he is a parson. It may be that
women feel the same way. And you noticed that he had the good sense
not to wear a frock coat to this informal little wedding. I can't
recall that he has ever worn a frock coat since he's been here. I
think you'd like ministers, Nanny, if they weren't so given to wearing
frock coats. In fact, I'm willing to bet that you are going to like
this wonderful boy from India immensely."

Nanny stood still and faced her father.

"I loathe ministers--in any kind of a coat," she explained firmly.
"And I'll bet no bets with you. Such offers are unseemly in a man of
your years and already apparent grayness. They are, moreover,
detrimental to my morals. I should think you'd be ashamed,--and also
mindful of your former losses and mistaken prophecies."