"For about an hour, I think," she said, as one remaining calm before a
miracle. "And he only has three neckties, but I saw him several times in
each of them. He must have kept changing and changing. I wonder--" She
paused.

"I'm glad he's begun to take a little care of his appearance at last.
Business men think a good deal about that, these days, when he comes to
make his start in the world. I'll have to take a look at him and give
him a word of praise. I suppose he'll be in the pew when we get there."

But Ramsey wasn't in the pew; and Charlotte, his sister, and her
husband, who were there, said they hadn't seen anything of him. It was
not until the members of the family were on their way home after the
services that they caught a glimpse of him.

They were passing a church a little distance from their own; here the
congregation was just emerging to the open, and among the sedate throng
descending the broad stone steps appeared an accompanied Ramsey--and a
red, red Ramsey he was when he beheld his father and mother and sister
and brother-in-law staring up at him from the pavement below. They were
kind enough not to come to an absolute halt, but passed slowly on, so
that he was just able to avoid parading up the street in front of
them. The expressions of his father, mother, and sister were of a
dumfoundedness painful to bear, while such lurking jocosity as that
apparent all over his brother-in-law no dignified man should either
exhibit or be called upon to ignore.

In hoarse whispers, Mrs. Milholland chided her husband for an
exclamation he had uttered. "John! On Sunday! You ought to be ashamed."