"If there's any worship in sheet music, I'd like to know it!"
"Come, come!" said peace-loving Mrs. Page; "there's the men filin' in.
We mustn't let 'em see us squabblin'. They think we're a lot o'
cacklin' hens anyway, tickled to death over a piece o' chalk. There's
Isabel, now. She's goin' to look like her aunt Mary Ellen, over to
Saltash."
Isabel preceded the men, who were pausing for a word at the door, and
went down the aisle to her pew. She bowed to one and another, in
passing, and her color rose. They could not altogether restrain their
guiltily curious gaze, and Isabel knew she had been talked over. She
was a healthy-looking girl, with clear blue eyes and a quantity of soft
brown hair. Her face was rather large-featured, and one could see that,
if the world went well with her, she would be among those who develop
beauty in middle life.
The group of dames dispensed to their several pews, and settled their
faces into expressions more becoming a Sunday mood. The village folk,
who had time for a hot dinner, dropped in, one by one, and by and by
the parson came,--a gaunt man, with thick red-brown hair streaked with
dull gray, and red-brown, sanguine eyes. He was much beloved; but
something impulsive and unevenly balanced in his nature led even his
people to regard him with more or less patronage.
Pages:
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75