The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1912-07-26
Copyright 1911 by Harper 6 BroJ

ureu, stupid youth whom he had tutored. Before he entered the divinity school he made tour of Alaska In the visits to which his vacations were mainly given up and in the academic trurnphs that he never neglected to secure, Miss Sophie saw al- most equally the hand of God. At last when he was twenty-five years old the Reverend Stephen Orth, being fully equipped to direct the souls of men, cepted his first parish.
 They were speaking of Stephen when his letter came-the who sitting, in the warm late afternoon the narrow porch of Sophie Bur chells shabby little cottage. But the coincidence was not as remarkable as though the talks between Miss Sophie and her friends were not invariably of Stephen and of the glories he steadily accumu- lated. Whatever their private view of the young man himself, they all shared nowadays, the tender hypocrisy that made them admire what she touch- ingly presented, probe for what she did not spontaneously offer. They knew so well that Stephens own account of hitnself-at school at col- 1ege in the ministry-had always been the wide, solid fabric upon which her affection had embroid- cred its flowing pattern; and it was with these in visible tapestries that the walls of her life hung, it was from to another of their splendid scenes that her eager spirit perpetually huttered.
 They begged her to neglect them while she read it. and settled back in their chairs, arranging their kind faces in lines of wonder and admiration-for from Sophie Burchell's Stephen 1t was matter of wide report that there but one kind of news to expect. But, as she read, the tender smile on So- phies face stifened little And without rereading the four hastily written pages, she replaced them in the envelope. There was perhaps no reason why she should have read the letter aloud. The that in her brief reading of it seemed to scorch and shrive her was secret; it was being "announced" Stephen said in Chicago. But jealousy that stronger for the than any pride in him kept her si1et He should have told her first; and if he had not, these women should not know. Not guess ing that her art1ess face and idgeting hands told plainly story of suppression she placed the letter in her belt and faced her guests nervously
 Its quite disappointment to me-, she confessed, with her quaint habit of understatement Stephen wont't be home this month, after alb.
 Emily Darrow, Sophie's minister's wife, was the possessor of rich experience that included than summer at Chautauqua, "Does that mean he's going to some summer school, Mss Burehe1lT she discerningly suggested. These young clergy men are getting to be restless intellectually"
 Little Dora Thistlewaite had the courage of her conservatism q always think that intellect isn't everything, In preacher" she daringy inter- rupted; and explained piously: Tt seems to me they ought not to put too great strain upon their bodies they will fail when their focks need them. Does Stephen keep well, Sophie%
 "Oh, perfect1y!" Sophie paled at the thought. "Of course he does overtax himself" she added with subdued pride. "He did at college, and he does now for his people. But have thought about t--and watched hinn-and believe it must be that-Cod gives him strength don't want to seem to boast about Stephen, but isn't it true--Evelyn dear, you know about such things-isn't it true that the who have done great things in the world have always been able to-disregard the laws of health lttle?- not too much, of course?"
 The slight blond girl spoke with more decision than her delicate face suggested "I think that such a man as Stephen Orth," she said, calmly under stands much better than we can his own capacity for work.
 "Very true," declared Mrs Darrow, with author s{xy 0A1d Mr 0r+h ha fraI J$s ance suggests unusual strength. A big manly man.
 file probably would not be called handsome" Sophie suggested, with worship in her faint voice
 Why should say that he was" conceded Mrs. Darrow. Particularly ina gown. Does he wear one, Miss Burche?"
 "He has in this Chicago church, Sophie confessed, happily Not before"
 Beautiful isn't it?" testified Dora Thstlewate of the picture thus presented. "Very beautiful in- deed"
 Unlike the others Evelyn Guest had not been dis tracted from the main point. You didn't say why he isn't coming, Miss Sophie, she now demanded. "Is he to take vacation?"
 "His vacation he's to spend in mission work-his church, you know does much of that sort of good. He may be here in October. I could not make out"
 Discrimination was new to her; and her head aehed when at last, she alone with her letter-the dreadful letter that Stephen had written In Sophes lnnOCentIy T1gQ SCHeuule Ol was the most significant letter that could pass between them; according to that schedule, it should also have been the tenderest. But with brevity that was almost brutal Stephen had told her of his engagement to young woman whom he had come to know in settlement work; and he allowed her to infer that the alliance, he called it, was social triumph for himself. They were to continue their work together, among their poor people during the summer Like himself, his fancee was an orphan; and her name was Mary Honger.
 Until the summer dusk couded into night Miss Sophie sata1one in her own room, in the little ere tonne-cushioned rocking chair where she had sat and held Stephen when he was little boy. Eager, in- dulgent rereadings of the letter lying open on her lap had not reconced her to it's cruel omissions. Miss Sophie believed she knew what son would feel and do Stephen had done otherwise. What