Something
appeared to discompose her this afternoon. There were those evident
signs of a consultation impending, which, to an experienced eye, are as
unmistakable as the coming up of a shower in summer.
Cerinthy began by passionately demolishing several heads of clover,
remarking, as she did so, that she "didn't see, for her part, how Mary
could keep so calm when things were coming so near." And as Mary
answered to this only with a quiet smile, she broke out again:--
"I don't see, for my part, how a young girl _could_ marry a minister,
anyhow; but then I think _you_ are just cut out for it. But what would
anybody say, if _I_ should do such a thing?"
"I don't know," said Mary, innocently.
"Well, I suppose everybody would hold up their hands; and yet, if I
_do_ say it myself,"--she added, coloring,--"there are not many girls
who could make a better minister's wife than I could, if I had a mind
to try."
"That I am sure of," said Mary, warmly.
"I guess you are the only one that ever thought so," said Cerinthy,
giving an impatient toss. "There's father and mother all the while
mourning over me; and yet I don't see but what I do pretty much all
that is done in the house, and they say I am a great comfort in a
temporal point of view.
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