Perhaps had he expected the presence of so distinguished
a critic as the Senator from Mickewa he might have done better. As
it was, being nearly wet through and muddy up to his knees, he did
not do the work very well. When Morton and his friends left the
church and got into the carriage for their half-mile drive home
across the park, Mrs. Morton was the first to speak. "John," she
said, "that church is enough to give any woman her death. I won't
go there any more."
"They don't understand warming a church in the country," said John
apologetically.
"Is it not a little too large for the congregation?" asked the
Senator.
The church was large and straggling and ill arranged, and on this
particular Sunday had been almost empty. There was in it an
harmonium which Mrs. Puttock played when she was at home, but in
her absence the attempt made by a few rustics to sing the hymns had
not been a musical success. The whole affair had been very sad, and
so the Paragon had felt it who knew,--and was remembering through
the whole service, how these things are done in transatlantic
cities.
"The weather kept the people away I suppose," said Morton.
"Does that gentleman generally draw large congregations?" asked the
persistent Senator.
"We don't go in for drawing congregations here." Under the
cross-examination of his guest the Secretary of Legation almost
lost his diplomatic good temper.
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