John Ward, Preacher

edding day, the whole household at t

iece, "the importance of this occasion has made everybody so

rector, "let me see: it must be ten-no, twelve years since Mary Drayton was married, and that

ertain vulgarity; haste was undignified, it was almost ill bred, and the most striking thing about

hough there were really very few houses. A lane, leading to the rectory, curled about the foot of Ea

talked of once; some of the shopkeepers, as well as Mr. Lash, the carpenter, advocated it strenuously at Bulcher's grocery store in the evenings, because, they said, they were at the mercy of Phibbs, the package man, who brought their wares on his slow, creaking cart over the dusty turnpike from Mercer. But others, looking into the future, objected to a convenience

andkerchief, "what do we want with a railroad? My grandfather never thought of such a thing, so I

eelings of the other "families," so that all Ashurst was conscious of relief when the projectors of the railroad went no further than to make a cut at one end of the Drayton pastures; and that was so long ag

from the road by a high brick wall, gray with lichens, and crumbling in places where the mortar had rotted under the creepers and ivy, which hung in heavy festoons over the coping. The tall iron gates had not been clos

walks, had grown, in spite of clippings, to be almost hedges, so that the paths between them were damp, and the black, hard earth had a film of moss over it. Old-fashioned flowers grew just where their ancestors had stood fifty years before. "I could find the bed of whi

a wedding at the rectory she meant to strip the garden of every blossom she could

s that he might have a will of his own. Perhaps the big fellow's silence rather helped the impression, for so long as he did not remonstrate when they bade him do this or that, it was not of so much consequence that, in the end, he did exactly as he pleased. This was not often at variance with the desir

ients there, and sat once a week, for an hour, in a dingy back office waiting for them. True, they never came; but Gifford had once read law with Mr. Denner, and knew and loved the little gentleman, so he could not do a thing which might appear discourteous. And when he further remarked that there seemed to be a

r the wedding. "He is glad enough to go, poor child," said Miss Deborah, sighing, when she sa

Ruth, doubtfully. "I never really felt qu

orah, sharply. "I've always maintai

ir of an unsuccessful lover; on the contrary, he whistled softly through his blonde moustache, a

nning to spangle the darkness, was the only one ready to talk. "Well," he said, knocking off his cigar ashes on the arm of his chair, "everything ready for to-mor

ector yawn

ting her head from her cousin's shoulder, her red lower

g to-day Ashurst would lose a great deal when she went. There's a compliment for you, Helen! How that fellow has changed in t

wenty-six,

rry he's not going to practice in Mercer. He has a feeling that it might interfere with Denner in some way. But dear me, Denner never had a case outside Ashurst in his life. Still, it shows good feeling i

s sister,-"I can't help respecting him; but bless my soul, I wish he was more like other people!" There was something about the younger man, Dr. Howe did not know just what, which irritated him. Ward's earnestness w

ogy or the omission; no one answered the rect

beauty! I was coming home from the village early in the morning; somebody was sick,-let me see, wasn't it old Mrs. Drayton? yes,-and I'd been sent for; it must have been about six,-and there was Gifford struggling with that young mare in the west pasture. He had thrown off his coat, and caught her by the mane and a rope bridle, and he was trying to ride her. That blonde head of his was right again

n, "that he wished he had been b

ng him not to get into rows with the village boys. I even had to caution him myself. 'Never fight,

tradictory! I've heard him say the Southerners couldn't help fighting for secess

burden and heat of the day, pretend to instruct us, do they? No moral wr

y, "if they thought they were right, y

o don't be absurd." Then turning half apologetically to John Ward, he added, "You'll have to keep this child's ideas in order; I'm sure she never heard such sentiments

d he brought his fist down with e

have always sympathized with a mistaken idea of duty, and I am sure that many Southerners fe

ideas of hospitality forbade more vigorous speech,

onishment, and the two young women smiled at each other in the darkness. ("The idea of contradicting father!" Lois whispered.) "

e Bible never taught any such wicked thing. They b

, and that every action of life is to be decided by it, they had to fight for an institution which they believed sacred, even if their o

urd," the rector answered, a shade o

you were unable to see that it was right

for a moment like an angry eye. "I-I? Oh, I'd read some other part of the book," he said. "But I

omething to which one's conscience or one's reason could not assent,

supposed wrong was, until you'd mastered all the virtues of the Bible: time enough to think of an alternative then,-eh, Ward? Well, thank

ried, as they rose. "What would people say if they h

thing so foolish," said Dr. Howe, but Joh

difference what peo

one does not like to say anything which is unusual, you know, about such th

or she could not see John's troubled look in the darkness, but Gifford

en of shawls and cushions, and turned and walked beside him. "Here's Helen giving Ward a

orthodoxy, doctor?" he sai

in a burlesque despair. "Why, what we believe, boy,-what we be

what we do believe, unc

ht say a bright young woman, makes a commonplace speech, it is a mental yawn, and denotes exhaustio