The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1892-06-11

| DTaCtlCe, Dut l mink tneTe must De
some mistake. Mrs. Mills sent me
here to put up my horse. Pm afraid
| am one of the tour horrid ministers
| But | assure you-
Matty caught up the barn lantern
and held it on a level with his face.
| Why, she exclaimed, it's Mr..
| Bereslord.
That is my name. And you are
Matty Mil, said a stranger, . sudden
light of recognition illuminated his
face. But, if it is an allowable ques-
tion-how on earth came you here?
| an here to attend the conuen-
ton.
Mr. Bearsford!
Miss Matty!
Are you a minister?
have that honor, Miss Matty.
Il can't be possible!
Why shouldn't it be possible?
Although you, perhaps. were not
aware of it, | was theological stu,
dent when met you in Massa
chusetts. Yes, Miss Matty, with a
mischievous nod OF the head, It's an
incontrovertible fact. am one Of
the four horrid ministers.
May l ask your errand at the
barn? said she, in an altered voice.
Though perhaps my mother sent
you to fad me?
Nc. She told me to come here
to put up my horse; he is waiting
outside.
Oh, poor fellow he must be very
tired! said Matty, hurriedly hanging
the lantern on hook. Open the
big door. Lead him into one of the
empty stalls. Not that side. Bessie
is there-the cow-and she isn't
used to horses.
With quick, dett hands. the girl
tossed down an armfull of hay into
the manger and showed Mr.. Beres-
ford where to find the painted pail
wherewith to bring water from the
well, and then leaving the lantern as
s guide, she vanished.
Mr.. Beresford smiled quietly as
he made his horse comfortable, and
then returned TO the house, where
Mrs. Mills had prepared an appetiz-
ing rcpast. But when he went 10
bed at ten o clock there was no sign
OF Matty's return.
Mrs. Mills herself hurried over to
Aunt Betsy's house in the morning.
Where's Martha' said she. |
want her.
Marthy? echoed Aunt Betsy. put
tirg one hard behind her ear after
fashion of deaf people. What about
Marthy? She amt been here.
Then where is she? cried Mrs.
Mills.
How should I know? counter
questioned Aunt Betsy, irritably.
See was always as full OF kinks as
A clothesline Oh a wet day! sighed
Mrs. Mills. guess I'll jest have TO
do the best I can without her. She
was dreadful opposed to my boardin'
the four revefends; but | guess my
Wills as strong as her'n. I'll get
along somehow, and Nartha shan't
have cent OF the money | earn-no
not cent But amt it funny,
Betsy? M. Beresford tell me-hy
the way, his names Berseford, not
Betord, as s'posed it was-that he
used to visit up to Mansfield, where
MArtha taught one term spell ago.
| want to know? said Aunt Betsy.
He seen her down to the barn last
night, added Mrs. Mills She showed
him where to put up his horse, an
that was the last of her. | wish |
knew where she was
The convention had been in
session several days, when, during
Mr.. Berestord's sermon in the
crowded village church, his eyes
fell on Matty Mills face, half hidden
in the shadow OF one of the quaint
wooden pillars.
He paused moment in mid sen
tence; then he collected himself, and
went on as brilliantly as ever.
But when he had finished, he did
not stay to hear the Reverend Ray
mond Cushlng's remarks, which
came next, but slipped out into the
fresh air and starlight. So that when
unconscious Matty emerged, a slim
shadow, he quietly put out his hand
and stopped her. She started
violently.
Stop a minute, said he. Why are
} you crying?
II didn't want to cry! said she,
, sObbino and defiant. But you made
! me-you preached that sermon right
at me!
| | wasn't thinking OF you, Miss
! Matty, SAID he, quietly, until my
} eye fell on your face. All the same
= if the cap fits YOU, by all means pu
1 it on
won't l,c 50 wilIfui tor the future
, murmursd Matty. III give up m,
+ own way. iii come back this very