Strong led the way. He always led the way and always told
Elverson what to think. They had been talking excitedly as they
neared the parsonage, for Strong disapproved of the recent
changes which the pastor had made in the church service. He and
Douglas had clashed more than once since the baseball argument,
and the deacon had realised more and more that he had met a will
quite as strong as his own. His failure to bend the parson to
his way of thinking was making him irritable, and taking his mind
from his business.
"Can you beat that!" he would exclaim as he turned away from some
disagreement with Douglas, his temper ruffled for the day.
Polly was utterly unconscious of the unfriendly glances cast in
her direction as she came running into the garden, leading the
widow's two children.
She nodded gaily to Julia Strong, who was coming through the
gate, then hurried to Mrs. Willoughby, begging that the children
be allowed to remain a little longer. She was making up a new
game, she said, and needed Willie and Jennie for the set.
"My children do not play in promiscuous games," said the widow,
icily.
"Oh, but this isn't pro-pro-pro"--Polly stammered. "It's a new
game. You put two here, and two here, and----"
"I don't care to know.
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