The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1884-10-11
WAS IT FLIRTING?

| lima was so handsome that no stranger ever saw
her without expressing admiration, and one did
not weary with the face after years of familiarity
| with it. She was we'll bred accomplished, and
great heiress 1 had reason to believe that she
was very fond of me. No man could be more
! content than was, as leaned back in the first
| class carriage which took me from Glasgow into
the country to the Vale of Cruix, where 1 was
! to preach a few Sabbaths. The pulpit was va
| cant and [ was going to try my wings With
my pecuniary prospects, I scarcely thought L
should care to accept call to the Vale of Cruix,
but had no objection to filling its pulpit for
few weeks, especially as Angelina had gone to
the west coast, and Glasgow was warm, and
stuffy, and stupid.
Casual remembrances of elegant parsonages
| built in Queen Anne's style; ola study where the
footballs were softened by Persian rugs, and the
| doors draped in porteres Of vevets; chairs and
| desk, carved richly as some old confessional,
| fitted through my mind And thought also OF
table spread with silver and rare china, with
| lady at its head who resembled queen. And
| breathed luxurious sigh l awakened from
| my day dream to a knowledge that the words
'Vale of Cruix" were being shouted out on the
PLATFORM and that the train was coming to
| StandStil
seized my travelling bag from the rack over
| head and hurried out of the carriage The por-
| ter9 had Just pulled four five trunks on the
| platform. Two old wagons stood in the road,
| one driven by an old woman in sun bonnet, the
other by red haired boy with bare feet; and
queer knock -kneed horse, attached to
queerer old gig was standing at lit
tie distance A young man in "a
| light summer suit and city family
bent on rural happiness my companions ON
| the platform. The former put his trunks on the
first wagon, kissed the old woman in the sun
bonnet, took the reins, and drove away. he
was evidently the son of the family, come home
| to spend his vacation. The rest of the trunks
and the city family mother father little boy,
nursemaid and baby-were put in the wagon,
| and driven off by the boy
| When the train moved away was left alone
| on the platform-alone, but for the station mas
ter, who sat upon bench smoking clay-pipe
| In a moment more the official, without looking
| at me, made the remark: Deacon Stevenson
has come for the minister. He's over in
| the hotel, and will be back in minute"
| THANK you" said /.
The station master took no notice of me, but
| having climbed up on a stool and made some
changes in time register on the wall of the sta
| ton, locked the door, put the key in his pocket
| and sauntered away down the railroad. took
his place upon the bench and waited. In few
| minutes a prim little old gentleman appeared
| upon the top of the hill, carrying ill one hand
| tin can, in the other tin pail and under either
| arm brown paper parcel. L knew at glance
that it was Stevenson.
'Are you Mr.. Mactaggertl" he inquired, mild
| ly as he approached. 81 want to know. l
hadn't any expectations of being kept so long,
but you see, it saves the women folks trouble
to fetch things when 1 drive to town. Step in,
won't youl I'll lust hang this parafine lie on be-
hind. Some dislike the smell-maybe you do.
The sugar-loaf, tea and coffee can 90 under the
seat as well not. How's your health, sir, and
how do you like Vale of Cruixp
answered that my health was good, and that
| had not, as yet, seen much of the Vale of
| Cruix.
mo, you haven't, said the old gentleman.
well, you'll drive through it now" And he
| shook the reins, and the old horse began to
| stumble along. And ON drove past certain
| rows of brick houses, very much like each other
and with the same flowers in their front gardens
| until, having passed the church, we came to one
happily set about by old oak trees, before the
| gate OF which we drew up.
A girl stood at the gate-a fair girl in blue
| muslin dress and white apron.
Take the sugar, Mary, before it gets upset."
| said the deacon ''Ths is Mr. Mactaggeart
that's going to preach for us. Mr.. Mactaggert
this is my daughter Mary"
We both bowed aud she vanished with the
parcels.
''What lovely creature!" said l 20 myself.
| Nothing like Angelina, but so pretty" And l
found myself thinking of her as | washed and
brushed my hair in the blue-walled bedroom
the second floor, with white-fringed counter
| panes and curtains and two black slhouettes
| over the mantlepence on either side of the china
vases of roses.
There were only four of us at the table-the
| deacon, his wife Ia stout lady who never said
IL.
| Mary had spent the last winter at Glasgow, and
| we talked about all she had been. She was self
possessed without being forward, and oh, SO
| pretty! Now Angelina was splendid and queen
| ly; so this mild praise that she could not
have objected to, only said it very often. l
preached on the next Sunday. 1t was settled
that should spend the summer there. 1 wrote
this to Angelina:
matter where l am-this stupid place well as
any other Address to the care of Deacon
Stevenson. shall remain with him while
| preach here"
1t was pleasant summer, despite the dullness
| of the place. How good the quaint old deacon
| was, when one really knew him. How motherly
| was Mrs, Stevenson. AS for Mary she grew
sweeter every day. l often wondered what An
gelina would have said could she have seen me
helping her to pick blackberries, to find the run
away COW, to carry home the milk pail, driving
| her over to the country grocery, and returning
| with a freight of Observation-Disclosures who knew
| nothing of domestic details, and whose mono
| gram and perfumed letters were often brought
| over from the Office in company with the
paraffine l wrote my sermons at
| one end of the round table, while Mary
| sat at the other sewing. Between us
| was lamp with green paper shade. Now and
| then big bug would fly into the window and 20
humming about our heads or moth would try
| to SINCE its wings over the chimney and would
drive it out. The old people would 60 to bed af
| ter awhile and then Mary and / would find our
| selves hungry and she would go into the kitchen
to find something good. l always held the light
for her; and when something good was found we
ate it in the back porch, sitting side by side on
| the step like two children. She was so like
child that little Mary, that it seemed no harm
to ask her to kiss me good-n night or to hold her
hand in mine as it rested on my arm in our long
walks home from church on Sunday evening
The summer passed; October came. Angelina
| returned to the city and wrote to me- It was
while we We're eating peaches and cream in the
back porch that evening that l said to Mary 81
will tell you a secret if you will keep it for
awhile Mary"
"Oh, of course WILL Mr.. Mactaggert"
| 81 am going to be married this autumn
Mary" 1 said. 'Those pretty letters you always
thought came from my sister are from the lady
who is to marry me. She is very beautiful