“Your poor Shepherd!” said she. “He certainly is a crank and fanatic if ever there was one! But he will find that his weird ideas do not go down here. I fear if he tries to come forcing his way in here that he will get much the same reception that I saw him receive at Mrs. Dismal Forebodings’ cottage this morning.”

Her husband said nothing, so she went on, laughing heartily as she spoke: “I was walking along the village street when I saw good Mrs. Valiant, with her Shepherd in tow, open the garden gate of Mrs. Dismal’s cottage and go and knock on the door. I was a little curious to see what would happen, so I waited. And what do you think? The door was opened an inch or two and there was Mrs. Dismal wearing the most awful old brown wrapper you ever saw. Mrs. Valiant didn’t seem to notice her embarrassment but just called out in her exasperatingly cheery way, ‘Here he is, Dismal dear!’ and tried to push inside. And poor old Mrs. Dismal gave a kind of squawk and jabbered, ‘Can’t you see I’m not fit to receive anyone like this?’ and slammed the door right in his face. He won’t go calling there again in a hurry! I thought I would make myself ill with laughing!”

The memory of it seemed to have the same dangerous effect upon her, for she nearly choked with mirth again.

While she was still laughing and mopping her eyes, suddenly a quiet voice spoke through the half-opened door behind her. “May I come in? I would like to speak with you.” And there was the Shepherd himself.

Now it was one thing to mock the Shepherd behind his back, but quite another thing to be confronted with him face to face. There was something so regal and commanding in his manner that it had an overawing effect.

In an instant Bitterness had sprung to his feet and pushed forward the best armchair, and though his face was dark and miserable, there was a suppressed eagerness in his manner as if this visit were not really unwelcome. As for Murmuring, her laughter ceased and the contemptuous expression on her face vanished as if by magic, and she heard herself saying to the visitor she had just labeled a crank and a fanatic, and in whose face she had threatened to slam the door, “Please be seated, sir. May we offer you some refreshment?”

He shook his head, but seated himself in the armchair and then said quietly to Bitterness, “Friend, have you been considering what I said to you when last we met?”

“Yes,” said Bitterness in the strange, low voice so unlike his usual loud, harsh tones. “Yes, my wife and I were discussing it together just now.”