Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1871-02-15

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do, how irresistible is this conviction 0
duty in regard to the ministry. Unde
that pressure my friend settled it that h
must preach. And now there was befor
him a good ten years Of poverty at least
What should he do about it?
In his extremity he took advice of ,
favorite theological professor. The pro.
tessor advised him not to seek the hand Of
a rich girl. She would not be suited to
the trials of minister's life. But finding
that Henry was firm in his opinion thai
this sound general principle did not in the
least apply to this particular case, the
professor proceeded to touch the tenderest
chord in the young mans heart He told
him that it would be ungenerous, and il
some points dishonorable, for him to take
woman delicately brought up, into the
poverty and trial incident to a minister
life. If you understood, sir, how morbid
his sense of honor is, you would not won
der at the impression this suggestion made
upon him. TO give up the ministry was
in his mind to be traitor to duty and tc
God. To win her, if he could, was to
treat ungenerously her whose happiness
was dearer to him thousand times than
his own
[ hope he did not give her up said
the doctor
Yes, he gave her up, in a double spirit
of medieval self sacrifice Looking To-
ward the ministry, he surrended his love
as some of the old monks sacrificed loves
ambition, and all other things to con-
science. Looking at her happiness, he
sacrificed his hopes in more than knightly
devotion to her welfare The knights
gave their lives He gave
more.
For three years he did not trust HIM
self to return to his home. But having
graduated and settled himself for nine
months over church, there was no reas son
why he shouldn't 90 to see his mother
again. And once in the village, the sight
Of the old school house and the old church
revived a thousand memories that he had
been cndeavoring TO Danish. The garden
walks, and especially the apple trees, that
are the most unchangeable Of landmarks,
revived the old passion with undiminishcd
power. He paced his room at night. He
looked out at the new house Of his rich
neighbor. He chafed under the restraint
Of his vow not to think again Of Jennie
Morton. 1t was the old story Of the monk
who thinks the world subdued, but who
finds it all at once about to assume the
mastery Of him. | 90 not know how the
struggle might have ended, but it was all
at once stopped from without.
There reached him a rumor that Jen-
ME was already the betrothed wife Of a
Colonel Pearson, who was her fathers
partner in business. And indeed Colonel
Pearson went in and out at Mr. Morton's
gate every evening, and the father was
known to favor his suit.
Jennie was not engaged to him, however.
Three times she had refused him The
fourth time, in Difference to her father :
wishes, she had consented to think about
it for week. In truth, Henry had been
at home ten days, and had not called upon
her, and all the hope she had cherished in
that direction, and all the weary waiting
seemed in vain. When the colonel's week
was nearly out, she determined to accept
Colonel Pearson without waiting for the
time appointed for her answer. But that
gentleman spoiled it all by his oyer-conf-
dence.
For when he called, after Jennie had
determined on this course, he found her so
full OF kindness that he hardly knew how to
behave with moderation. And so he fell
to fattering her. and fattering himself at
the same time that be knew all the ms and
outs Of a girls heart, be complimented
her on the many offers she had received.
And [ tell you what he proceeded,
there are plenty Of others that would lay
their heads at your feet if they were only
your equals. There's that young parson,
Gilbert [ think they call him, that is Wis
iting his mother, in the unpainted and
threadbare looking little house that stands
behind this one. I've actually seen that
fellow, in his rusty, musty coat, stop and
look after you on the street, and every
night, when 20 home, he is sitting at the
window that looks over this way. The
poor fool ,s in love with you. Only think
of it And | chuckle to myself when |
see him. and say, Don't you wish you
could reach so high [ declare it's
funny
In that one speech Colonel Pearson
dashed his chances to pieces. He could
not account for the sudden return of win
ter in Jennie Morton's manner And all
his sunshine was pow erless to dispel it, or
to bring back the least approach Of spring.
Poor Jennie You can imagine, doctor,
how she paced the floor all that night.
She began to understand something of the
Of Henry Gilberts heart, and
Of the manliness Of his motives.
All night. long she watched the light burn
ing in the room in the widows house and
all night long she debated the matter until
her head ached. She could reach but one
conclusion Henry was to leave the day
after tomorrow If any communication
should ever be opened between them, she
must begin it. 1t was as if she had seen
lim drifting away from her forever, and
must throw him rope. L think even such
4 woman's right man as yourself would
hardly Justify her, however in taking any
step of the kind
certainly should said the doctor.
But she could not find a way-she had
40 rope to throw. Again the colonel,
meaning to do anything else but that,
opened the way. At the breakfast table
he next morning she received from him
valentine. All at once she
saw her method. 1t was St. Valentines
lay. The rope was in her hand. Excus-
ng herself from breakfast she hastened to
ler room.
To send valentine to the faithful lover
vas the .uppermost thought. But how ?
She dared not write her name, for, after all,
she might be mistaken on counting his
owe, or she might offend his prejudices or
lis pride by so direct an approach. She
vent fumbling in drawer for stationery
She drew out little pine boat that Henry
lad whitfield for her many years before.