The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1878-12-11

NNOC@'
"Polly," muttered the girl, hoarsely,
"he has heard every word He couldn't
help it." And hinging her hat in one
direction, and her scarf in another, Lis
beth fled up the narrow wooden stairs
to her. own room, and threw herself,
sobbipg hysterically, upon the bed.
"It's my tongue" sobbed Lisbeth,
"noy wretched, chattering tongue. Papa
always warned me against giving loose
to it Polly always told me it would get
me into trouble. Oh, dear, dear, what
must he think how can I ever look him
in the face ?" And with this doleful
resume, Lisbeth buried her hot face in
the pillows, and cried harder than ever.
It seemed an age to her, but it was in
reality little more than half an hour,
before Polly came futtering up the
stairs, like a sweet-browed guardian
angel.
" Lisbeth," said she, "darling, don't
fret-you meant no harm. Get up and
braid your hair, and come down stairs.
Dinner will be on the table directly,
and papa is asking for you"
Lisbeth sat up and pushed the damp
fringe of yellow hair out of her eyes.
"I shall not come down, Polly"
"But you must, dear papa would be
very much vexed."
"Never - cried Lisbeth, with fresh
burst of tears "never !"
But the country parson. himself
presently came to the rescue, with mild
eyes and firm, gentle voice.
"No member of my family must be
lacking in courtesy to guest, said he,
taking Lisbeth gently by the hand |;
and the poor child was led shamefaced-
ly into the kitchen, where the table was
spread, and Polly stood smiling at its
head.
"Mr: Vincent" said the parson to
the tall stranger, this is my youngest
child"
"I am the black sheep of the family"
said Lisbeth, hanging her. head, 4" and
I'm very sorry, sir, and 1 beg your
pardon" ~-.
Pray don't mention it," said Mr..
Vincent, in genuine distress at the sight
of the modification of this yellow-bair-
ed lassie with the deep hazel eyes and
| the red, sensitive mouth.
| And when dinner was overland here
let us mention that Mr.. Vincent ate and
drank with an excellent appetite, as if
no lurking shadow of the threatened
dyspepsia disturbed his digestion-and
the country parson had taken his guest
INTO the study, Polly put her arm
around Lisbeth's waist, and drew her
ont under the morning g-glory vines,
where, by this time, the blue and rose
tinted cups had all folded themselves
into tight little parasolettes, and hidden
behind the leaves.
Lisbeth," said she, I've got good
news for you"
Nothing can be good news any
more," said Lisbeth, with fresh burst
of tears.
ooh, but listen," soothed Polly.
"Do you know who this Mr.. Vincent
isP'
"A-missionary, suppose" And
poor Lisbeth spoke the word as if it was
kafdose of quinine.
"No, dear, he's the bishops score
tary. And he has heard of papa's learn
ing and zeal aud talent, and he has come
to offer him a parish near New York,
with twelve hundred dollars-only think
of it, Lisbeth twelve hundred dollars
year and an assistant. We shall be
rich, darling, and dear, dear papa will
have little rest and ease in his old
age-IS
I'd can't be true," said Lisbeth,
vagi9IA
"But itis," said Polly; and then the
two sistoSs began to cry and sob, with
happy indifference, in each others arms,
els it possible" cried Polly Fem
"that it is whole year since we came
to Moreham rectory ?"
1t was a year. Once more the wild
grapes were scenting all the woods; once
more the golden-rod held up its torches
of flame along the course of babbline
} brooks, and Polly shaded her eyes witt
one hand, as she stood in the doorway
and watched Lisbeth come lightly along
J the garden path, with the yellow sun
| shine tangled in her hair, and an un
wonted moisture in her deep eyes.
"What have You done with Mr.. Vim
> cent ?" asked Polly, demurely.
He is walking down by the fall
[ with papa" said Lisbeth, coming up T.
her sisters side, and slipping one arm
4 through Polly's. "And, Poly
a "Well, dearest ?"
"I-I have something to tell you.
q "Couldn't guess iti" said Polly
: laughing. "No, Lisbeth, don't tur
your face way-I know it all, darling
i He loves you, and you have promised :
b be his wife"
4 "Polly," said Lisbeth, 81 think yo1
must be a fortune-teller. But, oh !
g am so happy and can hardly believ
= that it isn't all dream"
}, "But. Lisbeth"-
s "Well 2"
J, ST thought you were never, never
& going TO marry a.
r But Lisbeth's soft little hand presse
}, over her sisters mouth, and her plead
' ingly uttered, "Please, Polly, don't,
stopped the sentence ere it was finished
And Polly was merciful, and didn't.
II