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Decided, clear, calm, sweet, Diana's grey eyes as well as her lips gave her testimony; they did not shrink from other eyes, nor droop in hesitation or difficulty; as little was there a line of daring or self-assertion about them. The dignity of the woman struck and hushed her companions. "Our minister'll be a happy man, I'm thinkin'," said good Mrs.
The fair-haired twin looked down at the flapping and worn foundation of the shoes so lately purchased, and then at the family oracle. "Aw, it ain't your boot-sole," he said disdainfully; "it's somethin' in your insides; an' if ye don't get it fixed up, an' saved, the minister'll send ye to the bad place, sure. He'll ast ye about it," he added threateningly.
He must have his drink and offer visitors some and poor Jim just the smell of it knocks him out. The minister says Jim must be saved. But how's it to be done, tell me that? There ain't anything smart or knowing about me, but the minister'll never save Jim Tumley less'n he kills off a few of our comfortable, respectable drinkers and closes up the hotel.
Right down nice furniture it is too; but there's so much of it, I'm afraid the minister'll have to stand out in the front yard." "The house'll do for this time," replied Mrs. Kinzer. "There'll be room enough for everybody. What puzzles me is Dab." "What about Dab?" asked Ham. "Can't find a thing to fit him," said Dab's mother. "Seems as if he were all odd sizes, from head to foot."
Deacon Fish ain't to brag of for goodness, I don't think; but he's a sight better than I be. But see here, Squire, don't you think the new minister'll about fit?" "He'll fit me," said the Squire. "It is easy to see that he is not a common man. But he won't fit the folks here, or they won't fit him. It would be too good luck if he were to stay here." "Well, I don't know about that.
You have lost your bonny looks and your shining red hair; you've lost a husband, so you tell me, but you haven't lost your tongue." The old woman smiled. The compliment pleased her. "Come in," she said, "come in. The minister'll be queer and glad to see you. You know that fine. But have done with your old work.
The minister'll be disappointed if you don't have it fine." Betty stood by the window thoughtfully looking out. Was that what Sunday was made for, or was it only a quaint idea of this original woman? She wished she knew. Perhaps some time she would know the minister's wife well enough to ask. She would have liked to ask Ma more about it, but somehow felt shy.
"See here," he said at length as though utterance were difficult, "there's something I've been wanting to say to you; I'd ought to have said it before. I want you to marry me." The girl still stared at him without moving. "I want you to marry me," he repeated, clearing his throat. "The minister'll be up here next Sunday and we can fix it up then.
Right down nice furniture it is, too; but there's so much of it. I'm afraid the minister'll have to stand out in the front yard." "The house'll do for this time," replied Mrs. Kinzer. "There 'll be room enough for everybody. What puzzles me is Dab." "What about Dab?" asked Ham. "Can't find a thing to fit him," said Dab's mother. "Seems as if he were all odd sizes, from head to foot."
"T' minister'll mebbe coom if t' weather hods up." "Daffady do you think that when you don't agree with people about religion it's right and proper to sit every night and tear them to pieces?" The colour had suddenly flooded her pale face her attitude had thrown off languor. Daffady showed embarrassment. "Well, noa, missie Aa doan't hod mysen wi personalities.
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