A year ago, Dr.Howe would have thought all this very entertaining, and simple, and natural.

Now, that a man who lived in such a place, among such people, should have it in his power to place the Howes in a conspicuous and painful position was unbearable! By the time he reached the parsonage, to which an officious young person of whom he had inquired his way conducted him, he had attained a pitch of angry excitement which drove all theological arguments out of his mind.
Alfaretta greeted him with a blank stare, and then a sudden brightening of her face as he gave his name.
"You're her uncle!" she cried.

"How is she?
and when is she comin' back?
She ain't sick ?"--this with quick alarm, for Dr.Howe had not answered her questions.
"No, no, my good woman," he said impatiently, "certainly not.

Where is your master ?" "The preacher's not home," the girl answered coldly.

She was not used to being called "my good woman," if she did live out.