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In May, 1861, William Tharp and Wallace Cox were holding a meeting, and at this I confessed Christ, and was immersed by Bro. Tharp. My doubts as to the truth of the Christian religion and the way of salvation therein, had all been removed; and to this day not a shadow of a doubt has crossed my mind as to either.
Bee, stroking the mare's neck, looked at him shyly and slowly. "It's about George," she said; "I know it's about George! Oh, Cecil! I do wish I had been a boy!" Young Tharp assented in spite of himself: "Yes; it must be beastly to be a girl." A faint flush coloured Bee's cheeks. It hurt her a little that he should agree; but her lover was passing his hand down the mare's shin.
Even Cecil Tharp, who had received from Bee the qualified affirmative natural under the circumstances, was infected. The off foreleg of her grey mare was being treated by a process he had recently discovered, and in the stables he confided to Bee that the dear old Squire seemed "off his feed;" he did not think it was any good worrying him at present.
"Father is rather trying," she said. "I wish George would marry." Cecil Tharp raised his bullet head; his blunt, honest face was extremely red from stooping. "Clean as a whistle," he said; "she's all right, Bee. I expect George has too good a time." Bee turned her face away and murmured: "I should loathe living in London." And she, too, stooped and felt the mare's shin. To Mrs.
We spent the first winter of our married life in his pious home, and this gave us much time for investigation and conversation upon the subject of religion. Goes to Housekeeping. Discussions with Mr. Maddox. Attends Meeting. Is Baptized by William Tharp. Double Damages for an Old Horse. Begins Trading. Moves to Floydsburg. Description of the Place.
"Ah, dancing; I did so love it! Oh, poor Cecil Tharp!" And with a queer little smile she pointed to a strapping red-faced youth dancing with her daughter. "He nearly trips Bee up every minute, and he hugs her so, as if he were afraid of falling on his head. Oh, dear, what a bump! It's lucky she's so nice and solid. I like to see the dear boy. Here come George and Helen Bellew.
Bee, with soft eyes, was thinking of young Tharp, who to-day had told her that he loved her, and wondering if father would object. Her mother was thinking of George, stealing timid glances at his moody face. There was no sound save the tinkle of forks and the voices of Norah and the Squire, talking of little things.
We've nothing like this at Worsted Skeynes.... But suddenly he found that he could not sit there and think. Suppose his wife were to die! It happened sometimes; the wife of John Tharp of Bletchingham had died in giving birth to her tenth child! His forehead was wet, and he wiped it. Casting an angry glance at the Winlow graves, he left the seat.
It'll be a long engagement. Of course, there's nothing in farming, and Horace insists on their having a thousand a year. It depends so much on Mr. Tharp. I think they could do perfectly well on seven hundred to start with, don't you, Charles?" General Pendyce's answer was not more conspicuously to the point than usual, for he was a man who loved to pursue his own trains of thought.
Tea at Worsted Skeynes was served in the hall on Sundays, and was usually attended by the Rector and his wife. Young Cecil Tharp had walked over with his dog, which could be heard whimpering faintly outside the front-door. General Pendyce, with his knees crossed and the tips of his fingers pressed together, was leaning back in his chair and staring at the wall.
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