I told him that I had a bad temper, and didn't believe the
doctrines, and couldn't promise that I ever should; and after all, that
creature keeps right on, and I don't know what to tell him."
"Well," said Mary, mildly, "do you think you really love him?"
"Love him?" said Cerinthy, giving a great flounce, "to be sure I don't!
Catch me loving any man! I told him last night I didn't; but it didn't
do a bit of good. I used to think that man was bashful, but I declare I
have altered my mind; he will talk and talk till I don't know what to
do. I tell you, Mary, he talks beautifully, too, sometimes."
Here Cerinthy turned quickly away, and began reaching passionately
after clover-heads. After a few moments, she resumed:--
"The fact is, Mary, that man _needs_ somebody to take care of him; for
he never thinks of himself. They say he has got the consumption; but he
hasn't, any more than I have. It is just the way he neglects
himself,--preaching, talking, and visiting; nobody to take care of him,
and see to his clothes, and nurse him up when he gets a little hoarse
and run down. Well, I suppose if I _am_ unregenerate, I do know how to
keep things in order; and if I should keep _such_ a man's soul in his
body, I should be doing some good in the world; because, if ministers
don't live, of course they can't convert anybody.
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