Next morning, when Nickey brought up the mail, Mrs. Burke looked anxiously over her letters until she came to the one she was expecting. She read it in silence.

The gist of the matter was that Maxwell had been married to the nicest girl in the world, and was looking forward to having Mrs. Burke meet her, and to have his wife know the woman who had been so supremely good to him in the parish. He closed by informing her that they were to return the next day at five P. M., and if it were not asking too much, he hoped that she would take them in for a few days until they could find quarters elsewhere. The letter was countersigned by a pretty little plea for friendship from “Mrs. Betty.”

Mrs. Burke replaced the letter and murmured to herself, smiling:

“Poor little dear! Of course they could come and stay as long as they pleased; but as the rectory is in order, I think that I’ll meet them at the depot, and take them there direct. They’ll be much happier alone by themselves from the start. I’ll have supper ready for ’em, and cook the chickens while they’re unpackin’ their trunks.”

As Mrs. Burke thought it best to maintain a discreet silence as to the time of their arrival, there was no one but herself to meet them at the station when the train pulled in. As Maxwell presented his wife to Mrs. Burke, Hepsey took the girl’s two hands in hers and kissed her heartily, and then, looking at her keenly as the bride blushed under her searching gaze, she remarked:

“You’re a dreadful disappointment, Mrs. Maxwell. I’m afraid it’ll take me a long time to get over it.”

“I am horribly sorry to disappoint you so, Mrs. Burke.”

Maxwell laughed, while Mrs. Betty looked puzzled.

“Yes,” Mrs. Burke continued, “you’re a dreadful disappointment. Your picture isn’t half as sweet as you are.” Then turning to Maxwell, she said:

“Why didn’t you tell me? Who taught you to pick out just the right sort of wife, I’d like to know?”

“She did!” Maxwell replied, pointing delightedly to the young woman, who was still smiling and blushing under Hepsey’s inspection.

“But Mrs. Burke,” Mrs. Betty interposed, “can’t you give me a little credit for ‘picking out’ Donald, as you say?”

“Yes; Mr. Maxwell’s pretty fine, though I wouldn’t want to have you tell him so, for anything. But I know, because Durford is calculated to test a man’s mettle, if any place ever was. Now Mrs. Betty, if that’s what I’m to call you, if you’ll get into the wagon we’ll drive home and have some supper. You must be ’most famished by this time, if you stop thinkin’ about Mr. Maxwell long enough to have an appetite. I suppose that we might have had a committee of the vestry down here to bid you welcome to Durford; and Nickey suggested the village band and some hot air balloons, and that the boys of the parish should pull the carriage up to the house after they’d presented you with a magnificent bouquet; but I thought you’d just like to slip in unnoticed and get acquainted with your parishioners one at a time. It’d be simply awful to have a whole bunch of ’em thrown at your head at once; and as for the whole vestry well, never mind.”

They got into the “democrat” and started out at a smart trot, but when they came to the road which turned toward Thunder Cliff, Mrs. Burke drove straight across the green.

“Why, where are you going, Mrs. Burke?” Maxwell exclaimed.

“Well, I thought that maybe Mrs. Betty would like to get a sight of the town before we went home.”

When they came to the rectory and turned into the yard, the wonderful transformation dawned on Maxwell.

“My gracious, what a change! It’s perfectly marvelous,” he exclaimed. “Why Mrs. Burke, I believe you’ve brought us here to live!”

“Right you are, my friend. This is where you belong.”

“Well, you certainly do beat the Dutch. Who is responsible for all this, I’d like to know? But of course it’s you.”

“Well, I had a hand in it, but so did the whole parish. Now walk right in and make yourselves at home.”

Mrs. Burke enjoyed to the full Maxwell’s surprise and delight, as he and Mrs. Betty explored the house like a couple of very enthusiastic children. When they got into the china closet and Mrs. Betty found a silver tea-ball she exclaimed rapturously:

“Look here, Donald! Did you ever see the like of this? Here is a regular tea-ball. We will have tea every afternoon at four, and Mrs. Burke will be our guest. How perfectly delightful.”

This remark seemed to please Hepsey mightily, as she exclaimed:

“Oh, my, no! Do you want to spoil my nervous system? We are not given much to tea-balls in Durford. We consider ourselves lucky if we get a plain old-fashioned pot. Now you get fixed up,” she directed, “while I get supper ready, and I’ll stay just this time, if you’ll let me, and then if you can stand it, perhaps you’ll ask me again.”

Soon they sat down to a little table covered with spotless linen and a pretty set of white china with gold bands. Maxwell did not say much; he was still too surprised and delighted.

The broiled chickens and the browned potato balls were placed before Maxwell, who faced Mrs. Betty Hepsey sitting between them.

“Now this is what I call rich,” Maxwell exclaimed as he carved. “I hadn’t the slightest suspicion that we were to come here and find all these luxuries.”

“However did the house get furnished?” chimed in Mrs. Betty.

“Oh well,” Mrs. Burke replied, “I always believe that two young married people should start out by themselves, you know; and then if they get into a family row it won’t scandalize the parish. The only new thing about the furnishings is paint and varnish. I drove around and held up the parish, and made them stand and deliver the goods, and Jonathan Jackson and I touched it up a little; that’s all.”

“We ought to acknowledge each gift personally,” Maxwell said. “You must tell us who’s given what.”

“Oh, no you won’t. When I took these things away from their owners by force, I acknowledged them in the politest way possible, so as to save you the trouble. You’re not supposed to know where a thing came from.”

“But there must have been a lot of money spent on the rectory to get it into shape,” Maxwell asserted. “Where did it all come from?”

Mrs. Burke grinned with amusement.

“Why, can’t you guess? Of course it was that merry-hearted, generous old Senior Warden of yours. Who else could it be? If there is anything you need, just let us know.”

“But the house seems to be very completely furnished as it is.”

“No, not yet. If you look around you’ll see lots of things that aren’t here.”

Mrs. Betty quite raved over the salad, made of lettuce, oranges, walnuts and a mayonnaise dressing. Then there came ice cream and chocolate sauce, followed by black coffee.

“This is quite too much, Mrs. Burke. You must be a superb cook. I am horribly afraid you’ll have spoiled Donald, so that my cooking will seem very tame to him,” Mrs. Betty remarked.

“Well, never mind, Mrs. Betty. If worst comes to worst there are seven pans of soda biscuit secreted around the premises somewhere; so don’t be discouraged. There are lots of things you can do with a soda biscuit, if you know how. Now we’ll just clear the table, and wash the dishes, and put things away.”

When about nine o’clock she arose to go, Maxwell took both Hepsey’s hands in his and said quietly:

“Mrs. Burke, I’m more indebted to you than I can possibly say, for all you have done for us. I wish I knew how to thank you properly, but I don’t.”

“Oh, never mind that,” Mrs. Burke replied, a mist gathering in her eyes, “it’s been lots of fun, and if you’re satisfied I’m more than pleased.” Then, putting her arm around Mrs. Betty’s waist, she continued:

“Remember that we’re not payin’ this nice little wife of yours to do parish work, and if people interfere with her you just tell em to go to Thunder Cliff. Good-by.”

She was turning away when suddenly she stopped, an expression of horror on her face:

“My! think of that now! This was a bride’s dinner-party, and I put yellow flowers on the table, instead of white! What’d city folks say to that!”