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A knock at the Reverend Mr. Fairweather's study door called his eyes from the book on which they were intent. He looked up, as if expecting a welcome guest. The Reverend Pierrepont Honeywood, D. D., entered the study of the Reverend Chauncy Fairweather. He was not the expected guest. Mr. Fairweather slipped the book he was reading into a half-open drawer, and pushed in the drawer.
The good people seemed to have forgotten they ever had had any other minister, except Deacon Shearer and his set of malcontents, who were doing a dull business in the meeting-house lately occupied by the Reverend Mr. Fairweather. "Who was at the wedding?" "Everybody, pretty much. They wanted to keep it quiet, but it was of no use. Married at church. Front pews, old Dr.
"Is she looking for a governess in an intelligence office?" cried Miss Colgate, in dismay. "Certainly! Where else? Oh, I see," he made haste to add, sensing her expression; "it isn't the place to find high-grade governesses, eh? Well, all the better for us! We'll head her off. Climb in, Miss Miss " "Fairweather, Mr.
The young couple grasped his hands and Flanders spoke. "We can't do it, Mr. Bingle. It is out of the question. I'm sorry terribly sorry. You are a corker, sir. "For goodness' sake," began Mr. Bingle, imploringly. "We would jump at the chance, Mr. Bingle, to be married here, if it were not for one thing," went on Flanders, and then looked at Miss Fairweather.
"It is getting late," she said; "you must not stay any longer in this close schoolroom. Pray, go and get a little fresh air before dinner-time." The events told in the last two chapters had taken place toward the close of the week. On Saturday evening the Reverend Chauncy Fairweather received a note which was left at his door by an unknown person who departed without saying a word.
The Reverend Chauncy Fairweather did not, most certainly, belong to this latter class. There are several kinds of believers, whose history we find among the early converts to Christianity. There was the magistrate, whose social position was such that he preferred a private interview in the evening with the Teacher to following him with the street-crowd.
Fairweather let off a polemic discourse against his neighbor opposite, which waked his people up a little; but it was a languid congregation, at best, very apt to stay away from meeting in the afternoon, and not at all given to extra evening services. The minister, unlike his rival of the other side of the way, was a down-hearted and timid kind of man.
Kittredge and all the mansionhouse people and distinguished strangers, Colonel Sprowle and family, including Matilda's young gentleman, a graduate of one of the fresh-water colleges, Mrs. A little nearer the door, Abel, the Doctor's man, and Elbridge, who drove them to church in the family-coach. Father Fairweather, as they all call him now, came in late with Father McShane." "And Silas Peckham?"
The Reverend Chauncy Fairweather had publicly announced that he was going to join the Roman Catholic communion, not so much to the surprise or consternation of the religious world as he had supposed.
In this meeting-house preached the Reverend Chauncy Fairweather, a divine of the "Liberal" school, as it is commonly called, bred at that famous college which used to be thought, twenty or thirty years ago, to have the monopoly of training young men in the milder forms of heresy. His ministrations were attended with decency, but not followed with enthusiasm.
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