"We are mighty gratified to welcome you at last in the circle of
family worship, young man," she declaimed, as reproach and cordiality
vied in her voice. "I have been a-laying off to ask you what church
you belonged to in New York, and have a little talk with you over some
of our sacred duties that young people of this generation are apt--"
"Rose Mary," came Miss Amanda's cheery little voice from the doorway
just in time to save Everett from the wish, if not even a vain
attempt, to sink through the floor, "bring Mr. Mark right on in to
breakfast before the waffles set. Sister Viney, your coffee is
a-getting cold." Little Miss Amanda had seen and guessed at his
plight and the coffee threat to Miss Lavinia had been one of the
nimble manoeuvers that she daily, almost hourly, employed in the
management of her sister's ponderosity. Thus she had saved this day,
but Everett knew that there were others to come, and in the dim
distance he discerned his Waterloo.
And as he worked carefully with his examining pick over beyond the
north pasture through the soft spring-warm afternoon, he occasionally
smiled to himself as the morning scene of worship, etched deep on his
consciousness by its strangeness to his tenets of life, rose again and
again to his mind's eye. They were a wonderful people, these Valley
folk, descendants of the Huguenots and Cavaliers who had taken the
wilderness trail across the mountains and settled here "in the hollow"
of old Harpeth's hand.
Pages:
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61