"Hardly, I think, sir," responded Mr. Cole, with much severity. "She has not once been to church since she returned to the county—and she only two miles off—and I hear that she and her friend Mr. Ahlberg play billiards all day long Sunday, when they are not playing cards."
"Only the more reason for you to convert the heathen, ha! ha!" answered the Colonel—"and let me tell you, Cole, if you hadn't been a clergyman, you would have been a regular slayer among the women—and the heathen in this case is about as pretty a heathen as you can find in the State of Virginia, sir."
Evidently these remarks made a great impression on Mr. Cole, for on the sunny afternoon, when Colonel Berkeley and Olivia drove up to the door of The Beeches, they saw a clerical looking figure disappear ahead of them within the doorway."
"The parson's here, by Jove," chuckled the Colonel.
The house was modern and rather showy. Inside there were evidences that Madame Koller was not devoid of taste or money either. The Berkeleys were ushered into a big square drawing room, where, seated in a high-backed chair, with his feet barely touching the floor, was the little clergyman.
"Why, Cole, I am deuced glad you took my advice," cried the Colonel, advancing with outstretched hand and with a kind of hearty good fellowship that pleased Mr. Cole, and yet frightened him a little. He was a good soul and divided his
