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Updated: October 20, 2025
He had baptized her; and, when she came to woman's estate, he had performed the ceremony which gave her in marriage to Luke Hunter, the most promising young lawyer in the county. She had always called Parson Dorrance her uncle, and her house in Penfield was his second home. It had been Mrs. Hunter's wish for a long time that he should see and know her new friend, Mercy.
When Parson Dorrance was introduced to Mercy, she was alone on a spur of rock which jutted out from the mountain-side and overhung the valley. She had wandered away from the gay and laughing company, and was sitting alone, absorbed and almost saddened by the unutterable beauty of the landscape below. Stephen had missed her, but had not yet dared to go in search of her.
The paper was a certificate, drawn up in regular form, and signed by a clergyman, whose address was appended below, in a different hand writing of a marriage between Julius Lennox and Clara Louise Dorrance. "Her very name!" repeated the whitening lips. "I remember asking her once what the 'L' in her signature stood for."
I shall be at a loss for occupation for the next two months. And I fear from something Herbert said to-day, that he does not intend for me to return to Albany until the spring fairly opens. Dr. Williams has been talking to him about my cough." "Dr. Williams is a fussy old woman, and Mr. Dorrance" began Mrs. Sutton. Mabel quietly took up the word. "Mr.
"Documentary testimony!" he said, shortly, passing it to her. "I should have forwarded it entire, instead of transcribing an extract, but for Clara's fear lest yon should be led thereby to dislike her brother before you had ever seen him. I take it there is no danger of prejudicing you against him now!" The letter was from Herbert Dorrance, and began thus: "Mr.
If she had stood acknowledged before all the world as his wife, she could not have been any more single-hearted and unquestioning in her loyalty. It was at a picnic in which the young people of both Danby and Penfield had joined that Mercy met Parson Dorrance. No such gathering was ever thought complete without the Parson's presence.
Mabel, when convinced of the futility of her hope of having Aunt Rachel with her, had proposed to offer Mrs. Dorrance a house in the commodious mansion of her youngest son; but Herbert, with no show of gratification at what he must have known was a sacrifice of her inclinations, had coolly reasoned down the suggestion.
Parson Dorrance was now fifty-five years old. For a quarter of a century, his name had been the pride, and his hand had been the stay, of the college. It had had presidents of renown and professors of brilliant attainments; but Parson Dorrance held a position more enviable than all. Few lives of such simple and steadfast heroism have ever been lived.
The last thing he could remember before waking was seeing the Adams express wagons at the corner of Dorrance and Broad Streets, in Providence, on his way from the store of his nephew in Broad Street to his sister's residence in Westminster Street, on January 17th. The memory of Ansel Bourne retained absolutely nothing of the doings of A. J. Brown, whose life he had lived for nearly two months.
Dorrance was as exceptionally clever and cultured a person as her husband; and she added to these rare endowments a personal beauty which is said by all who knew her in her girlhood to have been marvellous.
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