The Monitor. [volume] (Woodstown, N.J.) 1884-1892, 1885-10-16
THE A BATH.

ton, and his pretty daughter Daisy were
having a tete-a-tefe one brilliant August
morning in the pleasant little room which
the Vicar called his study. That the tete-o-
tete wasnot altogether of an agreeable nature
was very evident from the agitation of the
girl and the vehemence of her father-a
portly eccelesiastic with several chins and a
pompous. self-satisfied manner.
'Idon't consider that he's a fit man to be
your husband the Vicar resumed, after
a pause in the talk. Il think one has only
to look at the style and cut of his clothes
to form a very fair estimate of the sort of
life he leads i'll town. | know him to be
in debt, to disigure his mother tongu
with the most hideous of metropolitan
slang, to drink between meals-and yet
you, Daisy Texter, daughter of the Vicar
of Dottington, sigh and sob that you never
can and never will love any other man.
It's quite-But, gracious me-! There's nine
o'clock striking and the combinations at
ten, so that the Bishop will be here at a
quarter to, and | haven't had time TO take
IL iii haIih W IOhi
love-sick chatter, Still, if | rush off now
there's just time for a hurried dip, and as
FIN nothing without it, and as it will clear
my head and freshen me up for the duties
of the day, | will be off. and we will defer
any further discussion until amore eonven-
lent opportunity, saying which, the vicar
left the room by the door. and the girl
slowly went out by the French window,
crossed the lawn, and descended to a marrow,
shady lane, where was waiting a young
gentleman with an honest brown face, who
was attired in a check suit of clothes which,
although of ordinary London cut, had pro-
duced no small impression from the va
riety of It's hues among the obscure vii
layers, who rarely saw anything but the
parsons broadcloth and the peasants cor
duroys.
s'It's no use, Gerald, she exclaimed,
when they met. ''The pater's in an awful
temper this morning and has been
calling me all sorts of horrid names for low
ing you and declaring that | would con
tinue to 10 so.
Mr.. Gerald Maldon, who was the son of
the Squire of Dottington, took the girl to
his arms aud kissing her quivering lips,
said:
whats his objection to me, Daisy p
"Why, he says you are what is called
FAST" replied the girl, ''and he doesn't
like your style of life, your style of con-
versation. nor your style of dress, dear"
''Style of dress, by Jove - exclaimed the
young man, surveying the SUIT he had on
with no little complaceney. .'Surely he
doesn't Judge a fellow by his dress. Why,
when the bishop was at our home last
spring I wouldn't have given the old fellow
eighteenpence for all he had on!'
''That reminds me, Gerald" said Daisy,
there's a confirmation to-day, so the bis
hop is coming and the hole place will be
upside down. This, perhaps, has worried
papa a little; therefore matters may not
really be SO bad as they now appear. lie,
however, would not miss his bath, so has
just gone down to the river to take his
usual swim. 1t will doubtless cool his
temper as well as his body
s'Gone down to the river for a swim y
exclaimed the young man. by Jove
I'd give something to see linn should
have thought he'd have been above such
rakish diversion. But, a happy thought
strikes me, Daisy dear. The Bishop, as
you know, is a rare good fellow. and being
80 III oo1io.., nL,,pN Of fl,a oo> ap1aar's aud
my godfather, he would, | believe, do any
thing for me. Keep your spirits up, there
fore, my darling, for the great man is GER
tain to come in and lunch at our house,
and | will get the guy to ask him to say a
good word for us to the vicar. So goodbye,
my wife that is to be, for | know it will be
all right. | wouldn't miss seeing my fu-
ture father-in-law taking his morning bath
for a good deal"
Gerald Maldon, having kissed the girl
again, hurried down the lane in the direc-
ton of the river. Carefully keeping him
self out of sight, he ~reconnoitred. The
pompous ecciesiastic had Just finished ar
ranging his clothes in a neat heap on the
bank and was descending into the water
with as much gravity and consequence as
if he were going down his pulpit stairs.
Mr.. Gerald watched every movement and
saw the vicar slowly duck his head and
ponderously strike out into the middle of
the stream, until his bald head and full
shoulders Were twenty yards away. Then
quick as thought the young man crept for
ward, gathered up the reverend gentle
mans garments under his arms, leaving
only his towel and his boots, deposited the
clothes under a hedge about a hundred
yards off and returned to his post of OBJ
servation.
The church clock cllimed halfpast
nine; the vicar in the water heard it and
struck for the bank. His amazement and