The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1892-01-14
s'I?" said he, starting away from
her, with q curious pallor about his

.'I?" said he, starting away from
her, with a curious pallor about his
lips.
Was this indeed he-this man with
a tumult in his breast, like a swell of
a food2 Was it he, a Shaker, or
merely one who had been a Shaker
till the bubble OF his faith burst at the
first pointing OF loves fngera s
Il never thought Of marrying him."
said Nora. II don't like him, you
know. I couldn't marry anyone I'M
less l."
The blood spoke so eloquently in
her cheek that Brother Boone's heart
leaped with a comprehension of it's
meaning. Nora looked across the
yellow field.
He said we should live in the little
brick house next the toll-gate; the one
the Shakers own; and just for q
minute it seemed to me as fit would
be sweet to have q home where |
Belonged can't stay with my aunt
any more; and then all at once it
came over me that I had seen you
cutting grass in the yard of that very
house and-somehow--I knew |
couldn't marry him ever-ever!' +.
The young Shakers hand trembled
on her hair.
81 am going to take care of you, !"
he said, almost sternly, as if he was
claiming q right another had infring-
ed.
Was it so wrong, then? Was it not
man 8 part to shield the helpless?
Reason took him down. There were
the Shaker folk at g mere stones
throw, he might take the woman he
loved to- their wide doors, and give
her to their charge.
He might; but Nora loathed the
austere life Of the community. She
was made for tenderness, for little
household Offices. In the swiftness
OF lightning flash he saw her sitting
by an evening fire, the lamplight on
her pretty, unshorn, uncovered hair,
her attitude that of woman who
needs only to look up to catch a gen
tle'glance from-Mother Ann? Was it
not his own face she seemed to seek?
The whole world appeared to fade
out. The sun was quite gone down
now, and it was very still. And then
suddenlya clear sound swung through
the hollow twilight.
Center House raised it's gray old
walls just to the southwark, it's tiny
window lights as black as if eternal
night held sway within. On it's
square belfry the iron bell careened
slowly, giving out the evening hour.
The man in the cornfeld held his
soul fast in his teeth. The woman
studying his face read the significance
of it's strained lines, of the drops OF
sweat on his temples; and her own
face, at which q certain tranquility
had shone, grew Epaler. She drew his
hand from her head and kissed the
palm. 90.
II know, DEAR" she bre athed; "you
would give it all up for me, wouldn't
lou, that life you lover" She went on
gently, IF [ would let you"
She paused, listening Was that a
sound OF footsteps crushing through
the stubble? She turned in time, to
catch the staggering advance of a
mans figure e. it's throat bound in a
scarlrt handkerchief, it's dark face
gaping with surprise.
Hello! S tibet you?'' accosted Mr..
Hntton's voice. 4.And this why
blame + faint Bro Hinson! Heb!
heb! Amt this little out OF your line,
Bro Boone, a-talkin' to the gyrls,
hunh? Bein's Pm going your way,
Nory, I'll see you home. Say, Bro
Boone, heard the news, hey you? Me
and Nory's got it fixed up l saw par
son to-day. Come on, sis!"
He winked at her cheerfully, but
Nora shrank away. .1-
"Not with you," she said-"not with
you.' And then she made a little ges
ture towards the Shaker village. ~
am going there"
Mr. Hutton's face expressed blank
incredulity. 'Going whar? Over to
Shakertown? What fur?"
"To live" said the girl. E#-.
'"To live?" exclaimed her sutton, III
the sinuous accents of amazement
"You amt got your right mind, hez
she, Bro Boone? The Shakers ain't
takln' in any new members no more
You'd better come on home with me
You amt got your right mind.
keep tellin' you. Come on" He laiG
hold her arm, and then rather sudden
~ he loosed his grasp for Brothe,
Boone Hinson set, him aside with a
forceful hand. ~
the Shakers will take her in said
Brother Boone, composedly, ssanc
take care OF her for me till I can make
a home for her in the world.'