"What are Come-Outers? Some new sect?"

"Sakes alive! Haven't you heard of Come-Outers? Cat's foot! Well, you'll
hear of 'em often enough from now on. They're folks who used to go to
our church, the Regular, but left because the services was too worldly,
with organs and choir singin', and the road to paradise too easy. No
need for me to tell you any more. You'll learn."

Mr. Ellery was interested. He had been in Trumet but once before, on the
occasion when he preached his trial sermon, and of that memorable
visit remembered little except the sermon itself, the pews filled
with captains and their families, and the awe-inspiring personality of
Captain Elkanah Daniels, who had been his host. To a young man, the ink
upon his diploma from the theological school still fresh, a trial sermon
is a weighty matter, and the preaching of it weightier still. He had
rehearsed it over and over in private, had delivered it almost through
clinched teeth, and had returned to his room in the Boston boarding
house with the conviction that it was an utter failure. Captain Elkanah
and the gracious Miss Annabel, his daughter, had been kind enough to
express gratification, and their praise alone saved him from despair.
Then, to his amazement, the call had come. Of casual conversation at the
church and about the Daniels's table he could recall nothing. So there
was another religious organization in town and that made up of seceders
from his own church. He was surprised.

"Er--this Miss Van Horne?" he asked. "Is she a--Come-Outer?"

Mrs. Coffin nodded.

"Yes," she said. "She's one. Couldn't be anything else and live with her