The Southern herald., 1888-09-15

AUuuB ana AOOllSui LuUuBub l.
"Wait until she is twenty-six, and
I'll wager she win not buy new
bonnet for all the new curates in
town"
Slowly we walked to church on that
bright Sunday morning, Marcia chat
ting gayly. and l, dressed in the plain
est OF dresses, walking silently beside
her.
had not fully recovered from Mrs.
Briggs unkind remarks, and was de-
ternined to show her my dissemination
to "set my cap" as she termed it, by
appearing in an exceedingly unbecom-
ing gown, 1 was really disappointed,
on catching last glimpse in the mir
ror, to find that notwithstanding my
plain toilet and my twenty-six years |
was still a pretty woman, and to hear
my mother say as | stopped to kiss
her: chow well you're looking, Mat
tie!''
How crowded the little village
church was-flled to overlooking.
Every one was there, even that hateful
Mrs. Briggs. caught a glimpse Of the
great poke bonnet as l walked quickly
to my seat
They were singing as we entered, yet
l scarcely heard them, feeling rather
embarrassed at coming late to be gazed
at by the entire congregation.
/ sank wearily among the soft cush-
ions, gladly taking refuge behind alarge
palm-leaf fan kindly proffered by a
portly old gentleman beside me.
Now hush, q slight flutter among
the congregation, a rustic o.. garments,
with now and then a subdued whisper
as the pulpit was rolled close to tho
chancel and the new curate assembled.
"Hes just lovely" whispered Mar
cia, pulling softly at my sleeve. "Do
look at him, Miss Kenwood."
kept my eyes downcast. If every
woman in the congregation cast glances
of admiration ! was determined to do
otherwise.
Gam | my brothers keeper" was the
text. Clear and distinct were the
words Of the speaker The first words
had caused my heat 10 beat wildly.
How like that voice Of long ago-that
rich, soft voice that pleaded for my
lovel | listened like one in dream,
until | raised my eyes to see before me
Robert Preston.
Yes, Robert Preston. Changed, to
be sure; not the bright, buSish face of
long ago. There were lines of care and
suffering on it now, while the dark hair
was streaked with silver.
Was Kathleen dead! / wondered.
Had he given up his practiceP Was he
happy? Fifty different queries crowded
upon my memory. Why had fate
thrown us once more together after my
bitter struggle to forgetP One thing |
was determined upon. ! must leave
the village. l dared not trust myself
further. Reason as | would, my heart
told me that l loved him still.
1t was all over. | could hear the
whispered comments Of the worshipers
on the eloquence Of the new curate,
The singers were chanting in that nasal
drawing tone so natural to village
choirs, and still l sat dreaming,
"Are you comingP" asked my COM
panion; then, as | rose mechanically to
obey; Don't you like him, Miss Ken
woodP Do tell me! You listened at
tentively, and once, as l looked at you,
| thought you were going to faint away,
you looked SO pale. Are you illP"
"Yes, l like him." added aloud,
while my heart whispered; "God pity
me, love himl"
We were out once more in the bright
sunshine, coming quite Unexpectedly
upon a little group composed of the
wealthier members of the congregation
gathered around the new curate. They
had learned he was man of wealth
and standing, choosing his calling
simply as a matter OF taste. Some
one-I think it was the pastors wife
presented me to him. Our eyes met,
our hands touched, as resting those Sc
rious eyes upon me, he said:
II have had the pleasure OF meeting
Miss Kenwood before
can not tell how 1t happened that
we were all walking out towards the
highway, and found myself alone with
Robert. He was the first to break the
silence. II panied me to think it was a
commonplace remark.
"How is Kathleen?" l asked, endeav-
oring to show him how little l cared
for the past, and how, without betray-
ing the slightest emotion, could inquire
after his wife's health.
"Kathleen?" He looked dazed at the
question. II believe she is well but
not happy, poor girl"
He believed she was WELL How
strange! Had he grown weary OF her
as of meP Was he utterly devoid of
honorP
mot happy" 1 said, as toyed ner-
vously with the roses in my bodice.
"She should be very happy as-as-
your wife," | faltered
"As my wife," he said, gazing in
blank amazement. Did you-oh, Mat
tie, you have judged me wrongly. /
never married Kathleen"
He looked like man upon whom u
sudden truth had dawned, or one ac-
cused of great wrong who could prove
his innocence.
It was in the twilight before service
that he told me it all. The notice con-
corning Robert Preston and wife had
referred to his cousin. He had entered
the ministry from choice, as he had
come into large fortune through the
Il