The citizen. [volume] (Berea, Ky.) 1899-1958, 1915-09-09
CHAPTER xxx.
The peaeon's Waterloo.

she could gather by his occasional
drive or walk past her door with a
civil greeting
Ivory made himself quickly at home
and helped the old lady to get room
ready for waitstll before he drove
back for a look at his mother and then
on to carry out his impetuous and ro-
mantle scheme of routing out the town
clerk and announcing his intended
marriage.
Waitstill slept like the shepherd boy
in 1.-THE Pilgrims Progress" with the
herb called hearts ease" in her bos-
ON. She opened her eyes next morn
ing from the depths of Mrs Mason's
best feather bed and looked wonder.
ingly about the room, with all its I'M
accustomed surroundings. She heard
the rattle Of fire irons and the clatter
of dishes below. the first time In all
her woman's life that preparations for
breakfast had ever greeted her ears
when she had not been an active par
ticipator In them.
She lay quite still for quarter Of
au hour. tired in body and mind. but
incredibly happy in spirit, marveling
at the changes wrought in her during
the day preceding, the most eventful
one In her history.
The image of Ivory had been all
through the night in the foreground of
her dreams and in her moments OF
wakefulness. both made blissful by the
heaven Of anticipation that dawned
upon her. Was ever man so wise, so
tender and gentle. so strong. so COM
pretending? What mattered the alb
sence of worldly goods, the presence Of
care and anxiety. when a woman had
steady hand to hold. steadfast
heart to trust, a man who would love
her and stand by her. whate'er befell?
Then the face of lvory's mother
would swim into the mental picture;
the pale face as white as the pillow
it lay upon; the face with its aureole
of ashen hair. and the wistful blue
eyes that begged of God and her chill
dren some peace before they closed on
life
The vision Of her sister was a joyful
one, and her heart was at peace about
her. the plucky little princess who had
blaZed the way out of the ogre's castle.
She saw Patty clearly as future
fine lady. in velvets and satins and
furs, bewitching everybody by her gay
spirits, her piquant vivacity. and the
loving heart that lay underneath all
the nonsense and gave II warmth and
color.
The remembrance of her father alone
on the hilltop did indeed trouble Wait
still. Self reproach. in the true sense
Of the word. she did not. could not,
feel
When she was thankfully eating her
breakfast with Mrs. Mason little
later and waiting for Ivory to call for
them both and take them 10 the Boyn-
ION farm, she little knew what was
going on at her old home in these very
hours. when. to tell the truth. she
would have liked TO slip in. had II been
possible. wash the morning dishes.
skim the cream. do the weeks churn-
ing. make her fathers bed and slip
out again into the dear shelter of love
hat awaited her.
The deacon had passed Il good part
of the night in scheming and contriv-
ine. and when he drank his self made
cup Of muddy coffee at o'clock next
morning he had formed several plans
that were to be Immediately frustrat-
ed. had he known IT, by the exasperat-
Ing and suspicious nature of the ladies'
involved in them.
At he had left the house, started
Bill Morrill, at the store and was on
the road In search Of vengeance and a
housekeeper Old Mrs. Atkins of Deer
wander shifted at the wages offered.
Miss Peters OF Union Falls, an aged
spinster with weak lungs. had the i'm
pertinence to tell him that she feared
she couldn't stand the cold In his
house; she had heard he was very par
ticular about the amount of wood that
was burned. There was not another
free woman within eight miles, and
the deacon was chatting under the NOR
LITIGATION OF being continually obliged
TO state the reasons OF his needing a
housekeeper The only hope, II seem
ed. lay in going to Saco and hiring a
stranger, a plan not at all to his lik-
ing, as it was sure 10 involve him in
extra expense. A
Muttering threats against the uni
verse In general he drove home by |
way OF Milliken's mills, thinking OF
the unfed hens. the unmilked cow, the
unwashed dishes, the unchurned cream
and, above all, Of his unchastened
daughters. his rage increasing with ev-
cry step until ii was nearly at the |
white heat OF the night before.
A long stretch Of hill brought the |
tired old mare 10 slow walk and en- |
abled the deacon TO see the Widow
Tillman clipping the geraniums that
stood in tin cans on the shelf Of her
kitchen window.