The times. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1890-1903, 1893-03-26

| DuI hfS she ndu never bteu ldlhtJ 10 IN
! that way before. He filled her brimful
/ Of aspirations 10 lead higher life. He
! lent her "RobertsOns Sermons" and
| made her sing hymns to him in the twi-
| light. 1t was all very well, only Meg's
J ardOr was rather chilled when she real
| lied that he did the same to other girls
She believed in him. nevertheless-indecd.
| worshiped him, in a singularly generous
| way. lie was a saint-hardy a man at
all. II he ever married, it must be some
| angelic being, certainly TO no girl in Nun
| thOIpe-nOt even Celia Doone, who was
| pretty and pious, but had a spice Of
| placid wirldiness about her that Meg's
| keen eyes detected
/ An the same, she cid not like 10 meet
| Celia Doone so often carrying lunches
| of grapes TO old women out Of her fathers
| greenhouse. for Mr.. DooIe was really
rich man, not only rich for Nunthorpe,
| and Celia could take round grapes and
! dollhouse flowers 10 her hearts content.
| Among them they mere quite superseding
| Mrs Pryde. With a curate like Marcus
| Weston it is not long before all the girls
| gravtate TO sick wishing. Meg did not.
| The others did it so much better and she
| had no money to buy grapes.
and I'm not good enough" said she.
cecilia reads to them psalms and hymns
! and spiritual songs. and ! cant. | was
| good a whole day together after the SER
mon one Sunday night but ! was all the
worse the next day. It's three years
since was confirmed. and I though; |
was always going to do right IL was
the loveliest old bishop, and Ia a whlte
India muslin and the tears came rohihs
down my cheeks all the while II lasted.
7 never cried so much In my life. Ana
then. II you'll believe me, as soon as
got home and It was tea time, the tears
ali dried up somehow. l was just as
hungry as a hunter"
81 think it's this hard wicked heart OF
mine" she went on refectiveiy after
rause, cit won't break, or melt, or any
thing. When I kneel down to pray 1t
starts me thinking about everything else
I'm the world Father says my natures
undiecinlfred / know I'm madder than
the raying man ard deafer than the
sea
Meg had a way of mixing up hymns and
+cefssst AZ scrYpfcfs' VIII Fer CONVERSE
tion-often quite urconscicusly. she sald'
and I believed her. that 1t was with
going TO church twice every SUNDAY
since she was six years Old | DO not
think that she ever meant TO be irrev-
erent. but frequently one could not help
laughing. Laughed now, and so did she,
though the tears had slowly gathered in
her Cves at the sense of her own short
comings
Fancy calling the sea deaf" she ex-
claimed presently in quite different
tone. "He Fears everything. Come out
On the rocks, Jack. there's a good BOY
You've studied enough for one day.
Throw away that old Greek grammar
hate IT,"
I obeyed her gladly enough, for my love
of the shore was nearly as strong as her
own. Not quite. mayDe-i never knew
any ore who loved the sea quite so wen
as Meg. she did not in the least mind
getting wet. She liked to sit on he edge
Of a rock and feel the spray splash over
her. To be sure, poor child. she very
seldom had Oh anything that would
spoil"
II wish was good, though" she said
wistfully when we ref ched the shore
She had taken up her position on a IA
vorite rock. and was dipping her slim,
brown fingers into pool of salt water.
"Why?" / asked. II don't"
That's because you are not good
Yourself" said Meg promptly. You're
oDIv cIever-at least, you are good but
you're not good" she explained ldcidly'
sYou don't like going 10 church. You
wouldn't wish to be always there, like
the hymn gays / think of YOU When 1t
comes to the pride Of .ateliect' and %,
foolish Galatians" But l should like TO
be good: and being rectors daughter
makes il worse than ever. l wish-l wish
| was good. / think-people would think
more Of me-"
you mean Mr.. Weston would, l sug-
eestcd. "But he wouldn't like you better
Meg
she flushed. Meg flushed so rarely that
it meant a good deal with her Her COM
pleAion was not her strong point. She was
h1f ~
smoke OF. Mr.. Weston, / used 10 see
lovely carmine come into her cheeks-a
color that nothing else eter called up
there.
"Ar. Weston is nothing 10 me-that is,
/ am nothing 20 him" said Meg seriously.
THE chrisn is on his head. on mine
The dew"
'Tm not so sure about that" l said
rather snaTpishly. drawing my own con-
clusion from the fact that Meg had been
studying the Portuguese Sonnets. II don't
altogether believe in your Mr.. weston,
Meg that is
But | had said too much already. Meg
rcso with her eyes flashing.
You needn't thiuk that because I am
not good ! have no faith in goodness"
She exclaimed. "You carry your sneers
too far Jack You would sneer at the
very apostles and martyrs themselves"
APOSTLES and martyrs All. well. I
walked home with her silent and repen-
tant, sorry that | had hurt her. but more
sorry that she had hurt herself. II
seemed TO me a hopeless prospect. !
fancicd that Weston, under all his ardor
and generous sendrlent, bad n definite
notion OF making his way in the church
and would look higher than poor clergy
mans daughter even II Meg had been
likely IN other respects 10 make an ideal
pastors wife, which she undoubtedly was
net.
But Meg and l could not quarrel long.
We had only each other 10 talk 10. and
managed TO restore her faith In my faith |
in Mr. Weston. so that the next evening |
we were out on the rocks once more, as |
good friends as ever AS luck would |
have it. we met him nj the gate as we |
came back. ! did not see him for some
time after Meg had done. being short |
sighted. but | saw her hoist her colors |
and OWNED that he was coming. she |
looked particularly lovely that night. and |
ne pave a curious startled glance at her
My feart began 10 beat faster; perhaps |
he was really In love after all, and would |