`` I knew you were good -- as good as Miss C'rona , and she is an angel . I love you . '' When morning came Frances went home . It was raining , and the sea was hidden in mist . As she walked along the wet road , Elliott Sherwood came splashing along in a little two-wheeled gig and picked her up . He wore a raincoat and a small cap , and did not look at all like a minister -- or , at least , like Frances 's conception of one . Not that she knew much about ministers . Her own minister at home -- that is to say , the minister of the fashionable uptown church which she attended -- was a portly , dignified old man with silvery hair and gold-rimmed glasses , who preached scholarly , cultured sermons and was as far removed from Frances 's personal life as a star in the Milky Way . But a minister who wore rubber coats and little caps and drove about in a two-wheeled gig , very much mud-bespattered , and who talked about the shore people as if they were household intimates of his , was absolutely new to Frances . She could not help seeing , however , that the crisp brown hair under the edges of the unclerical-looking cap curled around a remarkably well-shaped forehead , beneath which flashed out a pair of very fine dark-grey eyes ; he had likewise a good mouth , which was resolute and looked as if it might be stubborn on occasion ; and , although he was not exactly handsome , Frances decided that she liked his face . He tucked the wet , slippery rubber apron of his conveyance about her and then proceeded to ask questions . Jacky Hart 's case had to be reported on , and then Mr. Sherwood took out a notebook and looked over its entries intently . `` Do you want any more work of that sort to do ? '' he asked her abruptly . Frances felt faintly amused . He talked to her as he might have done to Corona , and seemed utterly oblivious of the fact that her profile was classic and her eyes delicious . His indifference piqued Frances a little in spite of her murdered heart . Well , if there was anything she could do she might as well do it , she told him briefly , and he , with equal brevity , gave her directions for finding some old lady who lived on the Elm Creek road and to whom Corona had read tracts . `` Tracts are a mild dissipation of Aunt Clorinda 's , '' he said . `` She fairly revels in them .
She is half blind and has missed XXXXX very much . ''
C'rona Clorinda Corona Creek Frances Hart Sherwood intimates murdered raincoat