Bill Hopkins had no objection to women in their places--in fact, he enjoyed the company of a pretty woman--but it was not her place to try and teach him. Hopkins had the overwhelming idea of the physical and moral superiority of men, while, as far as intellectuality was concerned, women were leagues and leagues behind.

Many a warm argument had been held between Bill and the pretty Mrs. Hall, and as this lady came into the chapel she saw the former elder seated in his old chair, the familiar wart shining high and white on the bald pate. She tilted her pretty chin an instant before inclining her head, then to the amazement of those present, she parted from her husband in the middle aisle, marching to the right, her amiable deacon taking the left. Bill Hopkins smiled inwardly as the thought flashed over him that there must have been a secret female conclave among the strong-minded women as well as among the men during the past week. The same idea occurred to the minister's mind as he saw his members separate in the middle aisle.

He drew his brow into a pucker which furrowed the flesh between his brows. Mrs. Graves was seated at the rear of the room to the right, her eyes upon an open book in her hand. She did not raise them as her husband took his chair behind the small pulpit table upon which lay a huge Bible marked by a dangling blue ribbon. The clergyman bent his head a few moments in secret prayer, drew the book toward him, opened it, found his text and placed the marker carefully between the pages. He coughed slightly and with an extra effort raised his eyes to his congregation. This is what he saw: The middle aisle divided almost every woman from her husband; only here and there had a timid wife with lowered eyes followed her lord and master to the left.