"I'm sure you're right, Mr. Bolton," said Annie. "I don't believe that your
church would let such a man go when it really came to it. Don't they all
feel that he has great ability?"
"Oh, I guess they appreciate him as far forth as ability goes. Some on 'em
complains that he's a little _too_ intellectial, if anything. But I
tell 'em it's a good fault; it's a thing that can be got over in time."
Mrs. Bolton had ceased to take part in the discussion. She finished
kneading her dough, and having fitted it into two baking-pans and dusted it
with flour, she laid a clean towel over both. But when Annie rose she took
the lamp from the mantel-shelf, where it stood, and held it up for her to
find her way back to her own door.
Annie went to bed with a spirit lightened as well as chastened, and
kept saying over the words of Mr. Peck, so as to keep fast hold of the
consolation they had given her. They humbled her with, a sense of his
wisdom and insight; the thought of them kept her awake. She remembered the
tonic that Dr. Morrell had left with her, and after questioning whether she
really needed it now, she made sure by getting up and taking it.