Fisherman & farmer. [volume] (Edenton, N.C.) 1887-19??, 1891-12-18
by appearing in an exceedingly unbe-

that notwithstanding my plain toilet and
my six and twenty years, was still
pretty woman, and to hear my mother
say, as I stopped and kissed her:
.How we'll you're looking, Matte"
How crowded the little village church
was. Everybody was there. even that
hateful Mrs. Briggs. caught glimpse
Of the great poke bonnet as I walked
quickly to my seat. They were singing
as we entered yet scarcely heard them,
feeling rather embarrassed at coming in
late to be stared at by almost the entire
congregation.
sank YEARLY back among the soft
cushions, gladly taking refuge behind
huge palm-leaf fan kindly proffered by
portly old gentleman beside me.
Now hush, q slight futter among
the congregation, rustic of garments,
with now and then a subdued whisper as
the pulpit was rolled close to the chan
eel, and the new curate assembled. "He's
just lovely /" whispered Marcia, 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, I was determined to do
otherwise.
Gam 1 my brothers keeper e. was
the text.
Clear and distinct came the words of
the speaker. The first words had caused
my heart to beat wildly. How like that
voice of long ago, that rich, soft voice
that had pleaded for my love.
=
raised my eyes to see before me Robert
Prestonl Changed, to be sure; not the
bright boyish face of long ago. There
were lines Of care and suffering on it
now, while the dark hair was streaked
with silver.
Was Katherine dead2 I wondered.
Had he given up his practice? Was he
happy? Fifty different queries crowded
upon my memory. Why had fate thrown
us once more together2 One thing I was
determined upon. I must leave the viii
lage. l dared not trust myself further.
Reason as I would, my heart told me
that loved him still.
It was all over! I could hear the
whispered comments of the worshipers
on the eloquente of the new curate. The
singers were chanting in that nasal,
drawing tone so natural to village
choirs, and still sat dreaming.
care you coming? asked my compan-
ion; then as 1 arose mechanically to
obey: "Don't you like him, Miss Ken
wood? Do tell me. You listened so at
tentively, and once, as I looked at you, I
thought you were going to faint. Are
you ill2"
Eyes, like him." said aloud, while
my heart whispered:
''God pity me, love him."
We were out once more in the bright
sunshine, coming quite unexpectedly
upon little group, comprised of the
weather. members of the congregation
gathered around the new curate. They
had learned that he was a man of wealth
and standing, choosing his calling SIM
ply as a matter of taste.
Some one, think it was the pastors
wife, presented me to him. Our eyes
met; our hands touched, as, resting
these serious eyes upon me, he said:
81 have had the pleasure of meeting
Miss Kenwood BEFORE"
I cannot tell you how it all happened
that we were all walking through the
churchyard toward the highway, and I
found myself alone with Robert. was
the first to break the silence. It panied
me to think it was commonplace re-
mark.
elbow is Kathleen?" I asked, on en-
deavoring to show how little cared for
the past; and how, without betraying
the slightest emotion, could inquire for
his wife.
"Kathleen2" He looked rather dazed
at the question. 81 believe she is well,
but not happy, poor girl
He believed she was well. How
stranger He had grown weary of her as
of me2 Was he utterly devoid of honor3
''Not happy, said, and toye3 nerv-
ously with the roses of my bodice. "She
should be very happy as-as-your
wife," faltered.
GAS my wife?" he said, gazing at me
in blank amazement. "Did you-O,
Matte! you have judged me wrongly.
I never married Kathleen"
He looked like man upon whom
sudden truth had dawned, or one &C.
cused of great wrong who was at |
length able to prove his innocence.
He had entered the ministry from
choice, having come into possession of |
an ample fortune. True, he had ad
mired Kathleen, as a man would admire |
a beautiful woman, never entertaining
however, the slightest feeling of love for
her.
The scene in the orchard was but a