It swirled about the snug Hillcrest rectory, rattling any
window which happened to be a little loose, and drawing the
forked-tongued flames writhing up the large commodious chimney.
When the third chuckle had been emitted, Mrs. Royal laid aside the
paper she had been reading and looked somewhat curiously at her husband.
"The missionary meeting must have been very amusing to-night, Daniel,"
she remarked. "It is too bad that I didn't go."
"Oh, no, it wasn't the meeting which was amusing," was the reply. "But
I must say it was the best one I ever attended. That missionary had a
great story to tell and he told it well. There was a good attendance,
too, especially for such a cold night. But you can't guess, my dear,
who was there."
"The Bishop?"
"No, no," and the parson rubbed his hands in glee and gave another
boyish chuckle. "Give it up, eh?" and his eyes sparkled as he turned
them upon his wife's puzzled face.
"Yes."
"I thought so. You could never guess, for you would never think of
Captain Josh."
"No, surely not, Daniel!" and Mrs. Royal, now all attention, drew her
chair a little closer to the fire. "What in the world took him there
to-night? I never knew him to go to church, let alone to a missionary
meeting.
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