Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1875-03-19
Calls and Sketfhfs.
MARGARET RYMER.
TcoNrINUED FROM YESTERDAY

| the Rector, perseveringlv, as he held out
his hand to his curatc. And l was sure
he thought he had been doing him the
greatest good in the world.
81 cannot tell" replied Mr.. Sale.
He went out. walked across the garden
and through the gate to the field, with his
head down. A dreadful lstlessness, as
it seemed to me, had taken the place OF
his brisk bearing. Just for a minute l
stood where l was, feeling as though had
had shower of ice thrown down upon
me, and might never be warm again. Say
ing short good morning rushed out af-
ter him, nearly upsetting Mrs. Tanerton
in the hall. and basin of soup she was
carrying in on plate. How cruel it
seemed; how cruel Why can't people
let one another alone ? He was half way
acrosss the field when l overlook him.
Mr.. Sale, want to tell you'll ought to
tell you-that the story, as repeated to
you, bears worse aspect than the real
ity. 1t is true that Benjamin Rymer did
change the note in the letter; but that was
ail-the best and the worst of it. He had
become mixed up with some reckless men
and they persuaded him to get the stolen
note changed for n safe one. lam sure he
repcnted of it truly. When he came home
later to his fathers he had left all his ran
dom ways and bad companions behind
him. Nobody could be steadier than he
was; kind to Margaret, considerate to his
Father and mother, attentive te business
and reading hard all his spare time. 1t
was only through an i'll fellow hunting
him up-one Cotton, who was the man
that induced him to play the trick with the
note-that he was disturbed again.
"How disturbed ?'
"He grew frightened, mean. and went
away. That fellow Cotton deserved hang
ing. When he found that Ben Rymer
would have nothing more to do with him
or with the rest of the lot, he, in revenge,
told jeff the landlord OF Pow and Har-
row. (where Cotton ran up score and
decamped without paying,) that it was
Ben Rymer who had changed the note !;
for, you see, it had always remained a
mystery to TImberdale. Jelf-he is dead
now--was foolish enough to let Ben Ry-
mer know what Cotton had said, and Ben
made off in alarm.
In weeks time Mr. Rymer was dead.
He had been ailing in mind and body for
!. long while, ana the new fear finished
him up.'
A pause. Sale broke it. Did Miss
Rymer know this?"
"Of Ben and the bank note? | don't
believe she knows of it to this hour
mo, feel sure she does mott added
Sale, speaking more to himself than to
me. "She Is truth and candor itself, and
she has repeatedly said to me she cannot
tell why her brother keeps away"
''No one knows of it but Squire Tod
hetley and and Mr. Tanerton. We should
never, never think of bringing it up. any
one of us. Mr. Tanerton only spoke OF it
because he thought he ought to tell you
he will never speak OF it again. Indeed,
Mr.. Sale, you need not fear it will be
known. Benjamin Rymer is quite safe. -
"What sort OF q man is he, this Benia-
min ?" resumed Sale, halting at the outer
gate of the field rs we were going through
it. Like the father or like the mother ~
Like the mother But not as vulgar
as she is. Ben has been educated; she
was not; and though he does take after
her, there S little bit OF his father in him
rs well. Which makes great differ
cncc.
Without another word Mr.. Sale turned
abruptly oil to the right. as though he
WIZ s,bII4 lOl ~ NpNItll \ Iolllbt. Suul
the gate and trudged home through the
snow, bearing back the message from the
Rector and Grace, that thcy'd come and
help eat the Goldfish
The Reverend Isaac Sale was that day
sorely exercised in mind. The story shook
his equanimity to the centre. To marry a
Young lady whose brother stood chance
OF being prosecuted tor felony, looked like
very black prospect indeed; but, on the
olher hand, Margaret at least was inno-
cent. and he loved and respected her with
his whole heart and soul. Not until the
evening was his mind make up; he had
debated the question with himself in all
its bearings (sea,cd ON the stump Of a
snowy treeO and the decision he arrived
at, waS-:o take Margaret all the same.
He could not leave her,
About O'Clock he went TO Mrs Rymer's.
The house was closed, and Mr.. Sale en-
tered by the private door. Margaret sat
in the parlor alone, reading Mrs. Rymer
out. In her solt black dress, with its bit
OF white irilling at the throat. Margaret
did not look anything like her nearly
twenty years. Her mild brown eyes, and
tale-tellng cheeks lighted up at the en-
trance of the curate.
II am come this evening to have some
final conversation with you, Margaret he
began. "Will YOU hear me, my dear? ?"
"You know am always glad to hear
you,' she said. in low, timid tone. And
Mr.. Sale made no more ado. but turned
and kissed her. Then he released her
hand, sat down opposite to her on the
other side of the hearth-rug, and entered
ON his argument.
1t was no other ihan she had heard from
him betore-the whole sum and substance
of il consisted of representations why he
must accept this chaplainev at the Bahia
mas. and why she must accompany him
thithcr. In the midst of it Margaret burst
into tears.
"Oh. Isaac, why prolong the pain ?" she
said. "You know cannot go: to refuse
j. as painful to me as to you. Can't you
!, see that have no alternative but to re-
main here?n
mo; don't see it" replied Mr.. Sale.
stoutly. II think your mother could do
without YOU She is an active, bustling
woman, hardly to be called middle aged
yet. 1t is not right that you should sacri
flee yourself and your prospects in life