Year: 1875

HoauStlohS picCc, cftly Olu WOuldu III tnc
neighborhood called Bessie Allan; and
when she and Georgia Knight, her mate in
most OF her irolics and adventures, were
together, anything, the same authorities
declared. might be expected. Neverthe-


less, all the ncighborhood were Bessie
Alan's friends; they all loved the little
bright head, the dimpled mischief of the
rosy face, the glistening of the brown
eyes, with their long, bright, halfcurled
lashes that knew so well the demure trick
OF yelling the lustre underneath them at
The auspicious moment, and making the
face too tempting tor anything but for
giveness and kisses.


She was seventeen, and though all the
neighborhood might in some way be
called her lover, yet she had never had
that single and individual lover who be-


longs to young girls dreams; for with all
her gay spirits there was certain shy
ness-almost like that of the little wild
wood animal. which allures you and then
escapes you-and no admirer had ever ap-
preached the lovely frolicsome, piquant
thing near enough to become lover.
That is to say, until the present epoch, of
which we are about to speak; and then,
one day the new minister, young, heart
whole, handsome, and believed by some
Of the old women of whom mention has
been made, and some of the young ones
too, to be nothing less than an angel in
disguise. for if such things had happened
once, they reasoned, then they might hap
pen again-iust as he rose in the pulpit,
saw Mistress Bessie come walking into
church, and it was all over with him.


Pray don't think i'll of the young minis
n Ir, oc - l..
was conscious during the brief hour of the
pulpit. Only to him, that early summer
day, the sky was bluer, the rose was
roster, the sunshine seemed more than
ever TO be flowing out of heaven itself,
like the simmer of the river Of life He
was not exactly aware that he had ever
seen Bessie Allan; all that he was entire
ly conscious of was that suddenly, as ifhe
We're in ecstasy, the whole world had
frightened and lifted itself. and he prayed
and read and preached after manner
that made the congregation talk, during
all the intermission. of Tobit and the an
gel; and then he went home to dine with
Mr.. Allan.


AS for Bessie, she sat very still between
her father and mother in church, and for
got all about her roguish glances hither
and yon, all about this body's ribbons and
that body's hat, and heard the preaching
and the praying with new light in her
eyes and new comprehension in her
mind; joined in the singing of the hymn
with her whole soul, and voice like
birds; and perfectly agreed for the time
being with the old women and the young
women that this was no common minister,
but more likely to be a spirit in mortal
guisc than any mere graduate of theOlO-
gy.


Yet Mr.. Beckwith was not of such i'm
material form as might lead to such opin-
ion. He was a deep-chested, broad-shoul-
dered fellow, with short brown curls clus-
tering in thick rings upon head of an
tique outline, with a steely glance in a
pair of great blue eyes, and was by no
means any more ethereal in appearance
.han man of proper proportions and nat
ural emotions should be. except in such
moments as those when his excited aspi-
ration lent singularly pure and holy en-
preston to the face that was usually rahl-
Ell severe than otherwise.


But If this young gentleman had not
been selt-conscious of Besse's presence
in church he became very conscious of it
in her fathers house Not Immediately to
be sure, for the awe in which she had been
half spell-bound did not wear off at once.
But when she found that the minister liked
plenty of gravy, when she had helped him
twice to dumplings. when she discovered
that he had a good heather appetite, then
the mischief in her began to get the upper
hand, and almost before she knew what
she was about, the eyelashes were doing
their wonted execution. Mr. Beckwith
saw the rosy roguish face before him on
the darkness as he walked home that night;
it made picture in the sunrise clouds
when he woke in the morning; and after
he had known her a fortnight there was
not day or hour in which that face did
not seem to be lurking somewhere about
him-on his sermon paper, between the
leaves of his commentary, in the very sun.
shine that fell across him. Mr.. Beckwith
was not the man to consider this maw-
kish sentimentality, or thing to be
checked by flagellations and notifications
OF fish and spirit. He knew, in fact, that
his hour had come. He sat down and rea-
soned the matter out with himself. A
child, indeed. she was, he confessed, but
then an utterly lovely one. Not precisely
the material for minister's wife, accord
ing to oldfashioned theories, but then he
had abandoned old-iashiOned theories in
that respect. His wife was to belong to
him, and not the parish, and in time she
would be all the fondest parish could WISH
And as for anything more that could be
urged there was bnt one answer-he loved
her. A month ago he had never seen her;
now life would be hard struggle to the
grave without her. A month ago he had
never seen her, yet he was sure he had
only been journeying toward her, and he
was as determined to make her his own,
and as confident that he should do so, as if
he had seen it written in the book of fate.
When Mr.. Beckwi,h determined on thing
he was in the habit of accomplishing it.


But still Mr. Beckwith had perhaps diff
ferent subjects to deal with hitherto; as
well calculate on a will-o'-the-wisp, he
presently found, as on Bessie Allen. To.
day she was all melting smiles and
glances, tomorrow she was remote as
star; to day she was like a bird Oh which
he was just about to put his hand, to-mor-
row she was singing and soaring far be-
yond his reach. After he had met her in
some of his walks, and had spent an hour