Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1874-03-28
Tales and Sketehes.
THE MINISTER'S DAUGHTER.
BY EDNA DEAN PROCTOR,
CONTINUED FROM YESTERDAY. I


II have not found you in your room be-
fore. Is there anything You wonld like P"
Nothing. thank YOU said |.
Il am glad you are comfortable here"
She replied, and passing me she went out.
| remained lost in thought and then
suddenly said to myself. at is Bessie
Hyde she is like. This place must be near
her home. Can it be possible it is Bessie
herself ~ Hurrying to the door, saw
her standing at the lower end of the hall.
with Bridget, who was saying, II am
ready for the sheets now, Miss Hyde"
Then | was almost sure it was she, and
moment later had crossed the hall and
asked her fun name and place of abode.
and my arms were around her neck. and
we had recognized each other as the Bes-
sic aud Mary of the old days at Marston
That night while the house below was
given up to waltzes and cotllons, Bessie
sat with me in my remote room, and with
the storm beating against the windows,
told me the story OF her lille for twenty
years. And this was its sum:
She had missed me sadly after left,
and hoped tor my return; but when my
aunt died, and my farewell letter came,
only telling her vaguely that we were Ego.
ing great ways off" she had never ex-
pected to see me again. John Farley real
lv wishing, she believed. to be dutiful
son, but unhappy from his dull restricted
life, had stayed at home, trying to be con-
tent, till he was eighteen.
Then came the death of his mother, an
affectionate woman, who always made
the best OF her boy, and smoothed many
Il hard place for him with his father; and
when year later, the Deacon announced
his intention of espousing Miss Hannah
Means, a prim, sharp, managing person,
who had worn the same long face ever
since John could remember, and who did
not hesitate to say that "Mrs. Farley had
always been too soft spoken with John,
and that when she stood in her shoes, she
would give him such training as he
ought to have had when he was Younger"
John did not wait for her discplin, but
the night before the wedding, taking what
little money he possessed, and bidding only
Bessie good bye, he stole off to Portsmouth
and left the next day with young man
of his acquaintance for Colorado.
For three years he had hard time.
Then he found some business in Denver,
and was prosper ing there when he lost all
in fire. Since then their only tidings of
him was that he had gone to California.
Her brother grew into a very promising
ambitious boy, and all the hopes her father
had buried for himself sprang into new
life for his son. He was carefully eduea-
ted. and entei ed college at very early
age from overexertion, his brain became
diseased and he died at the beginning Of
his sophomore year. Her father, who had
for some time been in poor health, did not
long survive the shock of his death, and
few months later her grief stricken moth
er was laid beside them in the churchyard.
When the minister's small estate was
settled, it was found that only about q
thousand dollars remained for Bessie,
who soon took up her abode with cousin
of her father S in town thirty miles south
OF MarstOn. Not wishing to be a burden
to her kinsman, for two years she had
taught the village school; and this sum-
mer hearing that u housekeeper was want
ed at Boar's Head Hotel, which was but
u short drive from her new home, she had
sought aud obtained the situation.
'.Bessie" said |, when she had finished.
and we had talked little while about her
own tamlly-'Bessie, wonder you have
not married. | am sure it has not been
for the lack of lovers"
NO" she replied. after moments ST.
ience. There were two, either OF whom
my cousin thought would have been de-
sirable match Tor me; and, as they made
no secret Of the matter themselves, am
at liberty to speak of them. The first was
Tom Stevens, who used to tease me so;
very good man now and the owner of
the principal store in the village. The
other was my fathers successor in the
ministry, a widower with two girls. |
like Tom and have great respect for Mr..
Fanshaw but, Mary, must tell you my
whole heart, have never loved any one
but John; and am sure if he is living, he
loves me- When lie went away he but a
ring on my finger, aad asked me to wait
for him, it it was ten years. Until his
misfortune at Denver he wrote me very
often; but since then no one has heard
from him. sometimes fear he is dead !;
but would rather remember him than to
marry any other man in the world
What sweetness, what pathos was in her
lace, In her voice, as she said this. The
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