This was priggish,but it must be borne in mind that John Ellery was very,very fresh from the theological school,where young divines are taught to take themselves seriously.He was ashamed of himself as soon as he said it,which proved that his case was not beyond hope.
The girl detained him as he was turning away.
I wasn't laughing at that,she said.I know who called you that--that name.It was Josiah Badger,and he really is one,you know.I was thinking of his testimony in meeting and how he called Ky--Abishai--a pepper shaker.That was ridiculous enough,but it reminded me of something else about Mr.Pepper,and I HAD to laugh.It wasn't at you,truly.
So the minister begged her pardon;also he remained where he was,and heard the drops from the tree patter hollow on his hat.
I came after you,went on Grace rapidly and with nervous haste,because I felt that you ought not to misjudge my uncle for what he said to-night.He wouldn't have hurt your feelings for the world.He is a good man and does good to everybody.If you only knew the good he does do,you wouldn't--you wouldn't DARE think hardly of him.She stamped her foot in the wet grass as she said it.She was evidently in earnest.But Ellery was not in the mood to be greatly impressed by Eben Hammond's charity or innate goodness.The old tavern keeper's references to himself were too fresh in his mind.
False prophetand worker of iniquity!
I'm not judging your uncle,he declared.It seemed to me that the boot was on the other leg.I know,but you do judge him,and you mustn't.You see,he thought you had come to make fun of him--and us.Some of the Regular people do,people who aren't fit to tie his shoes.And so he spoke against you.He'll be sorry when he thinks it over.That's what I came to tell you.I ask your pardon for--for him.Why--why,that's all right.I think I understood--I'm not asking it because he's a Come-Outer and you're a Regular minister.He isn't ashamed of his religion.Neither am I.I'm a Come-Outer,too.Yes.I--I supposed you were.
Yes,I am.There,good night,Mr.Ellery.All I ask is that you don't think too hardly of uncle.He didn't mean it.She turned away now,and it was the minister who detained her.
I've been thinking,he said slowly,for in his present state of mind it was a hard thing to say,that perhaps I ought to apologize,too.I'm afraid I did disturb your service and I'm sorry.I meant well,but--What's that?Rain?There was no doubt about it;it was rain and plenty of it.It came in a swooping downpour that beat upon the trees and bushes and roared upon the roof of the chapel.The minister hurriedly raised his umbrella.
Here!he cried,let me--Miss Van Horne!Where are you?The answer came from a short distance down the Turn-off.Good night,called the girl.I must run.Evidently,she WAS running.Therefore the young man ran after her.
He caught up with her in a moment,in spite of some stumbles over the rough road.
Here!he commanded,you must take the umbrella.Really,you must.You haven't one and you'll be wet through.She pushed the umbrella aside.
No,no,she answered.I don't need it;I'm used to wet weather;truly I am.And I don't care for this hat;it's an old one.You have a long way to go and I haven't.Please,Mr.Ellery,I can't take it.Very well,was the sternly self-sacrificing reply,then I shall certainly go with you.But I don't wish you to.
I can't help that.I'm not going to let you go unprotected through this flood.Especially as you might have been at home before this if you hadn't stopped to speak with me.But you mustn't.
I shall.
Here was the irresistible force and the immovable object.They stood stock still in the middle of the road,while the rain drops jumped as they struck the umbrella top.The immovable object,being feminine,voiced the unexpected.
All right,she said;then I suppose I shall have to take it.What?
The umbrella.I'm sorry,and you'll get dreadfully wet,but it's your own fault.He could feel her hand near his own on the handle.He did not relinquish his grasp.
No,he said.I think,on the whole,that that is unreasonable.I SHOULD get wet and,though I don't mind it when it is necessary,I--Well?rather sharply,what are you going to do?Go with you as far as your gate.I'm sorry,if my company is distasteful,but--He did not finish the sentence,thinking,it may be,that she might finish it for him.But she was silent,merely removing her hand from the handle.She took a step forward;he followed,holding the umbrella above her head.They plashed on,without speaking,through the rapidly forming puddles.
Presently she stumbled and he caught her arm to prevent her falling.To his surprise he felt that arm shake in his grasp.
Why,Miss Van Horne!he exclaimed in great concern,are you crying?I beg your pardon.Of course I wouldn't think of going another step with you.I didn't mean to trouble you.I only--If you will please take this umbrella--Again he tried to transfer the umbrella and again she pushed it away.
I--I'm not crying,she gasped;but--oh,dear!this is SO funny!Mr.Ellery gazed blankly at her through the rain-streaked dark.
This was the most astonishing young person he had met in his twenty-three years of worldly experience.
Funny!he repeated.Well,perhaps it is.Our ideas of fun seem to differ.I--Oh,but it IS so funny.You don't understand.What do you think your congregation would say if they knew you had been to a Come-Outers'meeting and then insisted on seeing a Come-Outer girl home?John Ellery swallowed hard.A vision of Captain Elkanah Daniels and the stately Miss Annabel rose before his mind's eye.He hadn't thought of his congregation in connection with this impromptu rescue of a damsel in distress.
Ha,ha!he laughed mournfully.I guess it is rather funny,after all.It certainly is.Now will you leave me and go back to your parsonage?Not unless you take the umbrella.
