The Bennington banner. [volume] (Bennington, Vt.) 1858-1894, 1888-06-07


tried little to have it changed. Blu
Virginia Wake declared, with wicke
shake of those jinglinG curls, that sh
could say her prayers just as we'll in
sleigh as she could cOoped up in tina
stupid barn OF meeting house.
Everybody thought afterward sh
fixed the ride for that night TO shoy
Mercy Avery the power she ha6 owe
Harmon Page.
We'll, the party started from Amity
VILE long about five o'clock. They wer
all IN a big two-horse load except Vir
ginia aud Harmon.
She had arranged for them to g
ahead in his cutter alone, and I'll adml
they was splendid. looking couple-h,
with his fine eyes and teeth, and she il
rich crimson hood that set off her darl
beauty to perfection.
Our rOute-for was one of the par
ty-lay straight up the hill toward Dsa
con Avery's. Just as we turned into it
who should we meet but the deacon and
Mercy.
They were late, for the meeting was
allus appointed for early candle light
ing; but Mercy had probably waited a
while for Harmon, who for a year back
had taken her to Thursday meetn' as
regular as the day came round,
She sat up, straight and queeDly, be-
side her father as they passed, and
seemed not to hear the malicious sally
| Virginia called out TO her.
we in the back team were near
enough to catch the scornful glance she
threw from those deep eyes, gray as
steel, that night.
'As for Harmon, he turned white to
the lips, and for mile hardly answered
the banter that Virginia kept up. After
that he seemed to grow perfectly reck-
less, laughed and joked louder than any
of the rest, and was so careless that he
drove on stone wall; and we, follow
ing, were all upset in a heap together,
and had hard work to get tied up so as
to make our way home toward morning,
more dead than alive.
1t was sorry day for Harmon Page.
He was waited upon by church COM
mittee, headed by Deacon Avery, who
denounced his whole conduct toward
Mercy as unchristian and highly incon-
sstent in a church member.
He didn't have much to say for him
self, and .hey churched HIM on the spot.
kept up some hope till he saw Mercy
Avery.
He had refused to see Virginia Wake,
and that night he went up the familiar
hill to Deacon Avery's stone house.
Mercy herself came to the door, calm
and self possessed as if nothing had hap.
pened, and showed him into the sitting
room. There was certain steady light
in her gray eyes, though, that made
Harmon tremble, and, without beating
about the bush bit, he came right to
the point and asked If all might be for
given and forgotten, and they become as
good friends as before. He worked
himself into a passion, cried and took on
like child, they said.
But law! it didn't move her an atom.
She had the genuine old Avery grit, if
she was mild-mannered, and she told
him that as long as the church had put
him out, she of course couldn't in con-
science take him back.
He pleaded and entreated till ten
O'Clock at night, a late hour in them
days, but it didn't make mite OF differ.
ence. She wouldn't overlook what the
church had considered gross breach of
faith. He went out a crushed man, and
from that time his spirit seemed to leave
him utterly
But what about Virginia Wakeg
interrupted, unconsciously cutting my
finger in my eager interest.
oh, after the girl had done all the
mischief possible, public opinion toward
her changed mann quick, and she left
town in few days and was never heard
from in thpsa Darta again
Aud Harmon Page what became OF
himY
He never got over the shock. He be.
came silent and melancholy, and finally
had to be taken to the Retreat. He grew
worse, and the sight of handsome wo-
man with red cheeks and black curls
would always throw him into his most
violent tantrums, He died in the asy-
lum at last
Now, l think that was real mean,'
said wrathfully winding cotton around
my hlOodlng thumb. III Mercy Avery
hadn't turned him off, his life might not
have ended 80 sadly. think she ought
to have taken him back ..'N
'Ah, hat said Grandpa West, quizzi
cally, do you mean tbatp
Certainly, said l, with dignity; why
shouldn't II
Oh, nothing, he replied only if she
had, Harmon Page would have been
grandfather instead of me-
My grandfather! Why, then, said
|, in some confusion, Mercy Avery must
be
Mercy West, your grandmother sand
grandpa, chucking me under the chm.
Confess now that ''all's well that ends
well."'
i suppose so, said l, reluctantly,-[N.
E. Magazine. ..' ....