"My land, yes! I'd thought maybe he'd come, but not without tellin' me when, or askin' for permission, as he'd said. He come in and took off his hat just like he was expected, and he shook hands with Ma and me. He only said 'How do you do Mis' Starr?' to her, but to me, he says: 'I'm glad to see you, Miss Matilda. How well you're looking!' Yes--just like that.
"We went and set down in the parlour. I'd cleaned the lamp that day, too--it was the same lamp Ma's took up-stairs with her now. It was on the centre-table, by the basket of wax-flowers under the glass shade. They was almost new then and none of 'em was broken. They looked awful pretty.
"Ma came in the parlour, too, and she set down between him and me, and she says: 'I've been wantin' to ask you something ever since I heard your last sermon, three weeks ago come Sunday. I ain't been to church since and I can't feel like I ought to go.'
"'I'm sorry,' he says, just as gentle. 'If you have any doubts that I can clear up,' he says, 'about the Scripture----'
"''Tain't the Scripture I'm doubtin',' says Ma, 'it's you.'
"'That isn't as bad,' he says, smilin', but I could see he was scared. You know how Ma is--especially when you ain't used to her.
Discussing Baptism
"'I'd like to ask,' says Ma, 'whether you believe that unbaptised infants is goin' to be saved.'
"'Why, yes,' he says. 'I do,' "'I suspicioned it,' Ma says. Oh, her voice was awful! 'May I ask you just what grounds you have for believin' such a thing?'
"'I don't know as I could tell you just what grounds I have,' he says, 'but I certainly feel that the God I humbly try to serve is not only just but merciful. And if there's anything on earth purer or more like a flower than a little baby,' he says, 'I don't know what it is, whether it's been baptised or not. I don't think God cares so much about forms and ceremonies as he does about people's hearts,' Them's the very words he said.
"Well," resumed Matilda, after a pause, "Ma was bent on arguin' with him, about that, and baptisin' by sprinklin' or by immersion, and about the lost tribes of Israel, and goodness knows what else. He didn't want to argue, and was all the time tryin' to change the subject, but it was no use. I never got a chance to say a dozen words to him, and finally, when he got up to go, he says: 'I've had a very pleasant evenin', and I'd like to come again sometime soon, if I may,' he says. Just like that.