"Mr. Douglas pays well to the salary, at least," remarked Susan.

"Oh, Norman isn't mean in some ways. He'd give a thousand
without blinking a lash, and roar like a Bull of Bashan if he had
to pay five cents too much for anything. Besides, he likes Mr.
Meredith's sermons, and Norman Douglas was always willing to
shell out if he got his brains tickled up. There is no more
Christianity about him than there is about a black, naked heathen
in Africa and never will be. But he's clever and well read and
he judges sermons as he would lectures. Anyhow, it's well he
backs up Mr. Meredith and the children as he does, for they'll
need friends more than ever after this. I am tired of making
excuses for them, believe ME."

"Do you know, dear Miss Cornelia," said Anne seriously, "I think
we have all been making too many excuses. It is very foolish and
we ought to stop it. I am going to tell you what I'd LIKE to do.
I shan't do it, of course"--Anne had noted a glint of alarm in
Susan's eye--"it would be too unconventional, and we must be
conventional or die, after we reach what is supposed to be a
dignified age. But I'd LIKE to do it. I'd like to call a
meeting of the Ladies Aid and W.M.S. and the Girls Sewing
Society, and include in the audience all and any Methodists who
have been criticizing the Merediths--although I do think if we
Presbyterians stopped criticizing and excusing we would find that
other denominations would trouble themselves very little about
our manse folks. I would say to them, 'Dear Christian
friends'--with marked emphasis on 'Christian'--I have something
to say to you and I want to say it good and hard, that you may