Even
yet, it would have taken but an error in dress, a reversion to a certain
type of manner which too often goes with looks like these, to make of
the girl that which it had seemed she must become. But, somehow, she had
not become that thing.
Rhodora presently turned and beckoned to the Preacher, and putting down
his teacups he came to her side. She presented him, and we saw that he
was, indeed, no clergyman, no minister even--in the sense that the
Skeptic had differentiated these terms--but a preacher--and an embryo
one at that--a big, red-cheeked, honest-eyed boy, a straightforward,
clean-hearted, large-purposed young fellow, who meant to do all the good
in the world, in all the ways that he could bring about. He was but
lately graduated from his seminary, had yet to preach his first sermon
after the dignities of his ordination, but--one could not tell how--one
began to believe in him at once.
"No, I haven't a bit of experience," he owned to me, as we stood talking
together, getting acquainted. "Not a bit--except a little mission work a
few of us went in for this last year.
Pages:
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148