The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1872-12-14


3 a delicious little sense of satisfaction no,
f in having brought things to this pass. n,
aunt, neither his nor hers, shall come be
tween them now.
She sits by stile, and he stands clos
l by her side. And the rays of the settin.
sun, stream through the leafy boughs, an,
glorify her head. 1t is all very pleasant
} but Minnie feels, in her own forcible idiom
) "that mere pleasantness won't pay
For a few moments she forces herself t,
contemplate each side of the shield. fish,
marries Mr.. Boughton she will have to leat
Binham life, and when he is her husband
she will not be able TO infuse an element o
excitement into her Binham life by firth.
with him. 1t will be dull probably--but-
"But it will be better than horrid teach
ing" she reminds herself. She has Nc
more sense of moral responsibility con
corning what she is about to do than
: child has of knocking down house o.
cards.
1--we altered my mind about the flow.
They must be for your study. Will you
have them? %
Will not?''
His face is in the shade, and looks very
well there. Minnie adjusts her head at a
becoming angle, and makes another effort
"Aunt Catharine, with that good, ser
viceable, common sense of hers, would .ieer
at me for being romantic if she heard me
say that would like to take tiny bit OF
this stile away to wear in a locket as a
CHARM
He knows that she means him to think
that she loves the stile because he is lean
ing upon it with her, in what a poet would
call the "gloaming.' He knows all she
means, and likes it.
He takes his knife out and defrauds the
lord of the manor by cutting a square inch
out of the stile. He would defraud twenty
lords of the manor of twenty times the
value of this square inch of this stile at
,juncture to please Minnie Ward.
! With rather shaky hand he proceeds to
cut his initials, "E. b." on the little bit
| of wood. He trims it and smooths it, and
then he looks at her.
She gives him one look, and he forgets
all his views as to the propriety of the
clergy being a celibate body.
May | cut yours here, too" he asks,
and she bends down her head and wills
Yes" and when she comes down from
the stile she is engaged to him.
AS she leans upon his arm she makes him
understand that life will be a wilderness to
her until she has the right and the power
to so lean always. He has his own views
about short engagements-he disapproves
Of them-but he thinks that her sweet soul
trembles at the prospect of ever so brief a
separation from him. And he believes it
good young priest as he is.
"Then it had better be soon," he says,
eagerly. Why he says it he can't exactly
define but he gathers up impressions that
it had better be soon, and speaks from the
impulse they give him.
sob, if you wish it..''
OF course he wished it. Suddenly he
found himself wishing it very much, and
feeling that all his pre- conceived ideas on
the subject were utter folly and empty
humbug. Minnie would be crown of
honor to husband and he, Edward
Boughton, would crown himself as soon as
possible.
She is very full of the pride of her sue
cess as she steps out from the shade of the
wood on to the open green. Her head set
ties back into satisfied wobble as she secs
Aunt Catharine approaching them.
Miss Paulett comes toward the pair in
the dim light, and as she comes on it is
made manifest to her, even in the dim
light, that something has happened.
For four days Minnie had been very
happy and very amiable. Edward Bough-
ton manages to make duty and inclination
agree wonderfully well. When he goes
abroad on missions of mercy Minnie ac-
companies him-a fashionable looking an
Her aunt, Kate Paulett, has been told
the great news, and has been cordial and
CHEEKY. His aunt, Miss Boughton, has
been told and has been morose and gloomy
Minnie is not one bit disturbed by either
woman's state or expression of feeling
She merely remarks to Edward:
"Your aunt looks so sour about it that
one would think it was crime to love you:
as if could help it,
Minnie means marriage as soon as posi-
bic, and now, on the evening of the birth
day of her engagement, she is feeling a
little annoyed and perpleXed because the
time is not definitely fixed yet.
"You might speak to him, Aunt Catha-
rine."
"About naming the day? No, my
dear, it's for him to speak to you about
that
"But what's the good of waiting? What
are we waiting FORE" Minnie pouts.
"You haven't waited long, "kate re-
minds her.
"No, and | don't mean to wait long,
that's another thing: we shall know each
other bit the better while he is down here
and I am going on with that horrid, horrid
teaching. don't see why we need wait"
"You can hardly be the one to suggest
a speedy marriage" Kate says dryly;'' but
I have no doubt, when Mr.. Boughton real
ICES that you consider your present one
life of slavery, he will speedily resc ue you
from t."
Minnie f1ushes az don't want him to
know anything about my present life, she
says, with an effort to seem at ease.
Kate flashes up glance from the pre-
serving pan over which she has been bend
ing assiduously during the conversation.
"You don't mean to say that you
haven't told him."
81 have not. Why should |? Men are
quite apt enough to think they confer a
favor on a girl by proposing marriage. If
girls governess they know they confer
favor by taking her out of bondage"