Saints and sinners

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Chapter 1. A Strange Encounter

“ Now, my dear little ‘ Daisy,'’ you must just stop here a bit in this pretty nook!’^

Thus addressing the daintiest little craft that ever a pair of sculls in skillful hands propelled, the speaker, a very young and beautiful girl, deftly shot her boat into the desired haven, shipped her sculls, and sprung ashore, then made fast the painter to a tree-root. The river rippling and flowing at her feet and the waving boughs over her head made no inapt frame in which to place so fair a picture as this girl with her tall, slender, supple form and masses of purple-black hair flue as floss silk shadowing her beautiful face with its exquisitely chiseled features and large, magnificent dark eyes. This young girl was no ordinary country lass, for she bore the stamp of that indefinite but unmistakable something which marks innate grace and refinement. Her pretty boating-dress of dark-blue serge and wide-brimmed straw hat were exceedingly becoming.

The spot at which she had landed was about six miles from Lynn, on the Ouse River. She stood leaning against a tree for some minutes without moving, a half-sorrowful, half-gloomy expression on her fair countenance.

^‘Ido not care!’'* she exclaimed aloud. “I shall row back some time, 1 suppose. Heigh-ho! I am tired with my long pull from Downham; I am almost afraid that it ^vill be dark before I reach home. I hope my father will

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not feel anxious. Lydia will scold, I suppose — she always does when I go off. Oh, I am so tired

She threw herself down on the warm grass, pulled her hat over her eyes, and leaned back against the trunk of a large tree. She sat still for a few minutes, then a sparrow came hopping near where she was reclining, and she picked up a pebble to shy at the bird, which flew away as she aimed the stone at him.

‘‘ I dislike Norfolk; it is the dullest county in England. I wonder if I will have to live and die in Downham? Will 1 have to perform the same duties from Monday morning to Saturday night for the next five years?’^

This young maiden asked herself these questions in a low, musical voice, while an expression of discontent passed over her countenance. She often uttered her thoughts aloud when alone. The next moment she turned quickly as the faint echo of approaching oars stole on her ear. Looking in the direction from which the sound proceeded, she saw a boat rowed by a gentleman, who flashed a look of admiration on her as he went rapidly by the spot where she was seated.

“ What a handsome face he has!^^ thought the young girl, as the boat sped on. “ That girl is a beauty Eustace Fanshawe ejaculated, as he caught sight of the fair face shaded by the Gainsborough hat.

The gentleman rowing past had a handsome, clear-cut profile, dark hazel eyes, and nut-brown hair. His mustache hid the sarcastic expression which lingered about his mouth at times. He had a tall, graceful figure, and carried himself with the erect bearing of a military officer — for he commanded a regiment in her majesty^s service.

The young girl still sat absorbed in her day-dreams, too intent on them to perceive the black clouds over her head until the sky was suddenly completely overcast, and the change of the atmosphere aroused her at last. She sprung to her feet and quickly got ifito her boat, pulled out from

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the shore, and rowed toward Downham. It would be hard to decide which is a rower’s greater enemy, a strong current or a strong wind. I think the latter is the worst; and the young girl soon had cause to think the same, for it soon rose into a downright half gale dead against her, and almost, if not quite, neutralizing the advantage of having the stream with her. Sometimes as the river wound, it was on her beam, sometimes on her quarter, then again dead against the pretty little craft which sped on through the darkness that closed around her almost before she was aware of it.

It was hard, weary, anxious work now, for it was unusually dark by the time she had rowed half-way to Downham, and it was difficult to be sure of the various landmarks; the deep black shadows of the trees and banks all looked like water in the gloom, and as she hugged the lee shore as much as possible, she more than once found herself among the reeds or blown off ohore with a force that was almost beyond her strength to make headway against. She had nearly three miles to pull before she reached her destination, and her heart sunk at the prospect before her.

The wind, which had lulled for a second or so, passed across the lagoon into which the river widens, and with a thrill of terror which made even her bold young heart quail, the girl realized that the gale was her master. Her strength was giving out; she became nervous and lost an oar. In order to recover it she turned the boat with the other oar, and in so doing that one slipped from her hand. At this time the tide was running very fast, and the oars were soon swept away from the boat. Its young occupant clasped her hands together and screamed aloud in her terror.

Captain Fanshawe heard this cry of anguish and rowed in its direction. He soon came alongside of the small boat, and reaching out his hand grasped its side.

“ Now, quick! scramble over to me and lash your

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painter to my stern-rail while I give way!’^ said Eustace, whose manner, voice, and accent at once told of good birth and breeding; so without a word our heroine obeyed the order.

She was soon in his boat,, catching her own painter; and while Captain Fanshawe instantly gave way again with all his strength against the wind, she lashed the painter to the stern-rail, to that the “ Daisy was fairly in tow. The young girl knew that she was saved, and sunk down, very white and exhausted — too much so, the captain saw, to heed whither they went.

The wind had now spent its fury, and the black clouds began to disappear, and the angry waves calmed down.

“ AVe will land in a few minutes, and I will find my pocket-fiask,’^ said Captain Fanshawe, slightly moving his boat^s nose into the lee bank, to which he had crossed; and, making her fast, said: “ Let me help you out.^^

“ Thank you; how kind you are.^'

The great dark eyes, full of grateful tears, were uplifted to the singularly handsome face that bent over her as he took both of her hands and helped her out.

“ Kind to myself, then,^^ he said, gayly; but that look, the touch of those clinging fingers thrilled strangely through him. “ Sit down here on this piece of lumber and drink some of this brandy; it^s a deuce of a pull against this wind — I beg your pardon — and we will rest a few minutes. Then you will tell me where I shall have the honor of taking you. Ah! there is the moon rising.

He made her drink some of the liquor, which in truth she much needed, and sat down at her side. She recognized his face as that of the gentleman who had attracted her attention when he rowed past her. She saw that he was a tall, distingue-looking man of about thirty-two or three, whose graceful and well-set form was displayed by his white and blue boating - suit, and involuntarily she

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smiled up in the splendid dark-gray eyes as she caught the bright ready smile on the delicately cut lips.

‘‘ I do not know how 1 can thank you for what you have done for me. ”

“ It is nothing at all — not worth a word. It was lucky that I chanced to be so near. But forgive me; how in the world did a young girl like you get out there in a gale after dark?^^

Captain Fanshawe was sorry he had put the question to her, for he saw her color painfully.

‘‘ I left Downham, where I reside, after an early dinner, she said, so like a guilty child that her preserver smiled, all the more fascinated by her exquisite beauty and perfect ease and freedom of manner without one particle of self-consciousness.

“ I pulled up half-way to King^s Lynn, when I became tired and got out of my boat to rest. ”

“ Ah, I think I saw you reclining on the grass as I passed by. You row very well. Who taught you?^^

“ Mr. Kingsmill taught me, and my father bought me a boat. It is my only amusement, you know.

‘‘ May I ask who is your father?”

Certainly; he is the minister of Bethel Chapel — Reverend Jacob Fletcher.”

‘‘ I have heard of your father from my friends, the Herberts, whom I am visiting. Allow me to introduce myself,” he said, as he put his hand into his pocket and took out a card-case, which he opened, and taking out a card, he handed it to her.

The minister’s daughter looked at the card and saw

Captain E. Fanshawe, R. R.” was engraved thereon.

“ Are you an army officer?”

“ Did you think I belonged to the navy?”

I believe I did, for you appear to handle boats as if you were accustomed to them.”

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“ You were mistaken. If you feel better we will get into the boat again.

“I am a great deal better, thank you,^^ replied Letty Fletcher, with a sweet smile.

“ Come, then, I will row you to Downham. We have the light of the moon to guide us,^^ answered the captain.

He helped Letty into the boat, then taking both the oars into his hands, with a few vigorous strokes he pushed the boat out into the middle of the river. When they landed in Downham Captain Fanshawe fastened his own boat and the “ Daisy, which he had in tow, to the dock; then turning to Letty, said:

“ Allow me to escort you home?^^

“ Thank you, sir, but I would rather return home alone.

“ But it's nearly ten o’clock."

“ Oh, I am perfectly safe. Captain Fanshawe. I will not impose upon your good nature any more this evening."

“ Believe me, it is a pleasure to serve you. Miss Fletcher."

The minister’s daughter blushed, and was silent for a moment.

“ What is it?" Captain Fanshawe asked, as he saw that she hesitated to tell him something.

“ I will tell you the truth," replied Letty, frankly “ If I should be met by any of my father’s congregation walking with a strange gentleman, I would be called upon to give an account of myself."

“ Surely you do not care for mere village gossip? Allow me to see you safely to your father’s door. I would feel as if I had not done my duty toward you if I allowed you to return home alone."

“ I suppose I am foolish to dread the remarks of our gossiping neighbors. "

“ Of course you are," replied the gallant captain, who,

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forgetful of all the hopes and ambitions of his life, walked home through the blue moonlit night with Letty Fletcher.

CHAPTER 11.

BETHEL PARSONAGE.

The nine o^clock sunshine streaming in at Letty’s window awoke her the next morning. Letty, as a rule, was inclined to be lazy in the mornings, but Lydia generally routed her in time for breakfast with the minister. But her young lady had had a narrow escape from sudden death and she had been providentially rescued by a stranger, therefore Lydia allowed her to sleep this morning. The faithful housekeeper did not imagine that the stranger of whom Letty spoke was a handsome officer, neither did Lydia know anything of the hours Letty had passed wakefully tossing on her bed. Sleep? Her breast was full of delicious unrest. Would she ever see her handsome preserver again? Poor Letty! how often she asked herself this question during the weary hours of the night.

But all this glad tumult at last faded away in dreamless sleep. She awoke with a start to see the sunshine of the new day. She was still feeling tired from her struggle with the gale the previous evening, and in consequence arose and dressed herself very slowly.

The reaction had come, and Letty was miserable. Probably she would feel better after her breakfast; she said her prayers somehow, and then went down-stairs.

Lydia was busy in the kitchen, but she noticed Letty^s pale face, and said :

“ Miss Letty, you look ill this morning.'’’

“1 do not feel so, Lydia,” replied Letty, sitting down to eat her toast.

“ I wish you would stop going off alone in your boat. You will be drowned some of these days. ”

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“ Nonsense, Lydia! don’t preach. Where is my father?”

‘‘ He’s gone for his morning’s walk. You had better go and meet him, and try if the fresh air will blow a little life into your dead eyes and pale cheeks.”

“ Yes, Lydia,” Letty answered, with unwonted meekness; and taking her garden-hat from the hall rack, she put it on and went out.

“ The child will kill herself gadding about and rowing that boat. I hope losing her oars will prove a warning to her,” muttered Lydia, polishing the silver tea-pot.

The full glow of the yellow sunshine floods Miss Lydia Phillips as she stands in her glory, and if you are a frivolous person, you will hover aloof and gaze with awe and silence. She is a maiden of thirty summers, tali, and spare — as maiden ladies usually are — with high cheek-bones, thin lips, deep-set eyes, a Koman nose, a very high forehead, and her hair, which is of that hue called sandy, is tightly pinned in a knot at the back of her head.

Her gingham dress is daintily clean, as is indeed everything about her.

Miss Lydia Phillips could have married, but she preferred to keep house for the minister and his daughter. She had almost a contempt for the opposite sex, and, for that matter, despised most women also — weak, purposeless beings, with no higher aim in life than their husbands and their children.

Lydia was a thoroughly good, earnest woman in her way. If any one was ill in the parish she would sit up night after night with the invalid, knowing no weariness, asking no reward. Her life was devoted to the welfare of the minister and his daughter, whom she faithfully served.

Lydia had finished cleaning her silver, and was about to make a pudding for dinner, when she heard a loud knock at the front door. When the housekeeper had opened the door. Lot Burden, her ardent admirer, entered. He was

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employed as foreman by the head deacon of Bethel Chapel, who was a wealthy tanner; he also collected the pew rents for Mr. Fletcher. Lot Bnrden^s features were in no way remarkable for manly beauty. In stature he hardly reached middle height, but his figure was well-proportioned. There was something in his eyes, in his smile — the outward expression perhaps of all that was modestly noble in his nature — so irresistible in its attractive infiuence, that men, women, and children felt the charm alike. Everybody in Downham was fond of Lot Burden; even Lydia admitted that he was an honest, industrious man, and she was pleased to see that he was the visitor instead of one of the tedious old gossips who called upon her master.

“ Good-morning, Miss Lydia, said the young man, smilingly.

^^Good-morning, Mr. Burden.

Can I see Mr. Fletcher?^ ^

“ No; he has gone out to take his morning walk.^’

I am sorry he is not at home, for I have called with the quarterns pew rents which 1 collected."’^

“ Please walk into the study, Mr. Burden; I expect the minister will return very soon; he generally gets back by ten o'’ clock, and it is five minutes to ten now. ”

“ I will wait for him, Miss Lydia.

“ You had better do so,"^ replied she, opening the study door, which was on the first-floor of the pretty little cottage called by courtesy Bethel Parsonage.

The room was plainly furnished. In the center there was a large library-table; on this there were several books, the manuscript of an unfinished sermon, and writing materials. A small, well-filled book-case occupied a corner of the room, and a little table, on which rested the poor and hospital boxes, stood near the study door. On the mantel-piece there stood an old-fashioned clock. There was only one picture in the apartment — a portrait which

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hung above the time-piece. It was that of a beautiful dark woman. The picture had been painted by a celebrated artist and resembled Letty Fletcher.

The room had a cheerf ub home-like appearance. It was lighted by two large, low windows which opened on the garden and let in the sunshine with the scent of summer flowers.

Lot Burden sighed as he glanced around him. His eyes rested on the housekeeper with an ardent gaze, which she did not appear to notice, because she just then stooped and picked up several pieces of paper which the wind had blown off the tg,ble. The clock upon the mautel-piece had struck ten, but Mr. Fletcher had not yet made his appearance.

“ I wonder where the minister has gone? If you can not wait, Mr. Burden, give me the money, and 1 will lock it up until Mr. Fletcher returns. He shall count it and give you a receipt. I will take charge of it.^^

“ Certainly, Miss Lydia,^^ said Lot, handing her the package of money.

“Mr. Fletcher is a baby in money matters. Why, he would spend every cent he laid his hands on for the poor of the parish. ”

“ Oh, bless your heart. Miss Lydia, they impose on the minister

“ That they do, Mr. Burden. 1 wonder what would become of him and Miss Letty if I were not here to take care of them?’^

“ They could hardly spare you. Miss Lydia; but it does seem hard for you to give them all your best days.'^

“ They are welcome to all my days, Mr. Burden. I have been with the family ever since I was eleven years old. I could not put the kettle on the hob when I came to them. Poor, dear Mrs. Fletcher taught me all I know.'’^

“ But, Miss Lydia, you ought to consider other people’s

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feelings. You know I have been waiting on you for the last five years.

“ I can not help that, Mr. Burden, if you will be foolish.

“ But, Miss Lydia, I have had my wages raised, and with such a saving woman as you —

“ There, that will do, Mr. Burden,^^ interrupted Lydia; “you need not cast sheep^s eyes at me; it will not do. What upon earth would Mr. Fletcher do without me? He never could make ends meet on less than a hundred and twenty pounds a year.-’^

“ Why, Miss Lydia, you can teach Miss Letty to keep house for her father.

“ Nonsense, Mr. Burden. She is no more good than a pet canary bird; so say no more about it, if you please.

“ But marriage is honorable, so the Scriptures say. The Apostles were married.^-’

“ As I said before, Mr. Burden, you will please not mention the subject again. I am neither ashamed nor afraid of being an old maid,’"' said this peculiar woman, as she’ rearranged the books on the minister's desk for the third time during their interview.

Lot Burden felt discouraged, for he loved Lydia and was anxious to make her his wife. His face bore a pained look, but he stood his disappointment bravely, and after a short, embarrassing pause, said:

“ Oh, Miss Lydia, I forgot to mention that Seth Williams told me that he met Miss Letty in the Lovers’ Walk last night, with that dashing officer who is visiting somewhere around here.”

“ What! our Miss Letty?” the housekeeper exclaimed, turning sharply around and looking indignantly at her would-be suitor. “ He must have been mistaken; the child is not acquainted with any such person.”

“ X thought that I had better inform you of the matter,

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for if Seth Williams would say such a thing to me, he would to others, too.^-’

“ You are right, Mr. Burden. I do not believe Seth Williams ever saw Miss Letty. He has taken some one else for her; of course he would say it was the minister’s daughter. For gossiping, idle, good-for-naught folks, Downham ought to take the prize,” remarked Lydia, frowning severely.

“ I must go. Miss Lydia, as I have two or three errands to do for Mr. Hoggard before I return to the tannery. Good-bye, Misu Lydia,” said Lot Burden, with one of his rare smiles, as he passed out of one of the low windows that led to the garden path.

Lydia sighed as she saw him disappear down the road. She then took the broom and commenced to sweep the front porch with a vim that astonished several members of the congregation as they passed by. Lydia’s faithful heart was heavy. She was indignant that any one should censure her beautiful young lady, who was the most perfect of human beings in her eyes. The idea that Miss Letty would be seen walking with a stranger after dark was out of the question.

“ The world must be coming to an end when Miss Letty is gossiped about,” she muttered.

Poor Lydia! she had forgotten how late Letty returned home on the previous evening.

The Reverend Mr. Fletcher came slowly up the garden-walk as Lydia finished sweeping and dusting the front porch and steps.

“ Lot Burden has been here, Mr. Fletcher,” said Lydia.

“ I am sorry that I was not at home to receive him. Did he wish to see me about anything particular, Lydia?”

“Yes, sir; he brought the pew rents,” answered Lydia, following the minister into his study.

Mr. Fletcher counted the money, and wrote out a receipt for the amount, which he put away for Lot Burden. He

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then handed his quarterns salary to Lydia, reserving three pounds for himself.

“ Letty must have a new dress, Lydia.

“ You want a new coat more than she does a new dress.

You think this coat has seen its best days?^^

“Yes, sir,? replied Lydia.

“ It has done me good service, and it seems ungrateful to cast it aside. It is like passing by an old friend when he is in adversity. I will wear it, Lydia, as long as I can do so.^^

“ That is the way you always do, Mr. Fletcher. You deprive yourself of everything in order to give Miss Letty all the fine clothes she fancies,^'’ said the housekeeper, as she left the room.

The Reverend Mr. Fletcher smiled as he arranged his papers on the table, endeavoring to collect his thoughts. He turned the pages of a well-worn Bible which, after a little while, he began to peruse. The fresh air came balmily to his temples as he read. A bird fiuttered to and fro by the open window, and at length perched itself upon the bough of a tree, where it trilled forth a song, and its companions, hearing, joined in the chorus.

The clergyman listened to the songsters and smiled. Then he smoothed back the pages of the Bible which the breeze playfully lifted whenever he removed his hand from the volume, and again he became absorbed in his book. Mr. Fletcher was a gentleman by birth and education. He was somewhat above the medium height, and his figure was nobly proportioned. The features of his face were clearly cut, but they wore a sad expression. The patient sweetness of the mouth and his mild blue eyes revealed the character of the man. The hair was parted from his forehead after a peculiar fashion, and fell loosely below his neck, giving the upper portion of his countenance an air of meekness and almost feminine softness. His locks

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had once been of raven blackness, but now they were thickly interspersed with silver. His whole appearance was that of a man of chastened and benevolent spirit, to whom a child or wounded bird would instinctively creep for protection. He was a picture of holy thought and quiet study as he sat conning his Bible. The sound of approaching footsteps now interrupted his tranquillity, and his daughter entered the room. She flung her hat on a chair, then kissed her father.

“ Well, my dear, what is it?’^ the minister asked, smiling affectionately.

‘‘ Oh, nothing, daddy, only I am sick and tired of this stupid place. Everything in Downham is so very respectable, so very proper. You can not walk across the road but everybody knows what sort of a dress you have on, and exactly how much it cost. I wonder if I shall have to get up at the same hour in the morning, and do the same thing every day for the next ten years?^’

Letty sighed as she asked the question.

“ You do not do exactly the same thing every day, my dear. We are not very lively, I will admit. There will be the Sunday-school picnic next week — that will be a change.

‘‘ Oh, that is nothing but buns, milk, and village gossip. I wonder if it will always be so?^^

“ I suppose when Ealph has saved money enough, you will get married and leave me, my darling

“No, daddy,^^ cried Letty, throwing her arms around her father’s neck. “ You are talking nonsense. I can not help people falling in love with me, can I, daddy?”

“ Indeed, I thought that you and Ealph understood each other. Eh, Letty?”

The young girl blushed and hung her head.

“ 1 don’t want to leave you, daddy,” she replied.

Her fair face was clouded, and the tears stood in her eyes,

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Why had Ralph Kingsmiirs name suddenly grown so distasteful to her? Was the dark, handsome face of Eustace Eanshawe already photographed upon "her mental vision? In another moment her mood abruptly changed; she sprung up.

“ Ah, daddy she exclaimed, “ I wish we could go about with an organ, a monkey, and a wax-work show like a man I saw to-day.^'

The minister smiled gently as his daughter drew up a low stool and sat down at his feet. He softly smoothed her hair. He was well accustomed to her strange fancies, and rarely chided her for indulging in imaginary exploits.

“ Daddy, you could grind the organ, said Letty, clapping her hands with childish glee.

“ That would be easier work, I fancy, than trying to grind the miserable qualities out of poor humanity,-’^ replied her father, good-humoredly.

“ 1 would wear a gay dress, and pass around the hat.^^

“We would pick up a few pennies, I fancy, my dear.”

“ Of course we would, daddy.”

“ How like your aunt Letty you grow, child!” said the minister, sighing as he looked at the portrait over the mantel-piece.

“Do I, daddy? Do tell me her history. You know you promised me.

“ Some other time, dear.”

“ Is it a love story?”

“ Yes, Letty, a love story with a sad ending.”

Just as the minister had finished speaking, a remarkably handsome man with light chestnut hair, blue eyes, and auburn beard, entered the study. He was more than six feet in height, but his figure was so well formed he did not appear awkward in the least. His eyes sparkled when he saw Letty, who bowed calmly as she shook hands with her father.

“ Please excuse me, Mr. Kingsmill; I forgot to tell

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Lydia something/’ said Letty, as she hastily left the apartment.

Ealph Kingsmill’s face flushed hotly as he perceived her indifference. He was devotedly attached to Letty, but he felt that for some unaccountable reason her manner was constrained and cold. He watched her retreating figure with a strange foreboding, and sighed heavily; but as the human heart must find an outlet even in the most stoical, he turned to the minister for sympathy, and asked:

“ Why did she run away?”

“ I do not know, Ealph; she is a strange girl. My dear boy, why don’t you tell Letty you love her?”

“ May I, Mr. Fletcher?” “

‘‘ Certainly, Ealph; the dearest wish of my heart is to see her your wife. ”

“ May Heaven bless you, sir! You give me hope. Will you speak a good word for me?”

“ No, Ealph; you must tell Letty yourself. I don’t believe in meddling in love affairs. No good ever comes ofiit.”

“ I am mad with heartache for her; but I fear I have not the courage to ask her to be my wife.”

“ Nonsense, Ealph!” exclaimed the minister, smiling. “ Speak out like a man, and all will be well.”