Soon as the shades of night prevail,
The moon takes up the wondrous tale,
And nightly to the listening earth
Repeats the story of her birth.
"Did you come here to recite, Mr. Pence?" said Bella disagreeably. "If so I must go indoors. I have been entertained enough this evening."
"You should not have been at the concert at all," said the preacher rebukingly, "seeing that your dear father is scarcely cold in his grave."
"That is my business, Mr. Pence," said Bella in icy tones. "If you rebuke any one it should be my aunt, who is flaunting the property of which she robbed me in the face of everyone."
"I shall rebuke Sister Vand at a proper time," said Silas authoritatively. "In the meantime——"
"You rebuke me," said Bella, who had risen to her feet, weary of the conversation. "I decline to permit your interference."
"I don't want to rebuke you," cried Pence eagerly. "I wish to make you smile on me. Become my spouse, or fair lily of the valley, and you will have me always at your feet."
"I have told you before, Mr. Pence, that I cannot marry you."
"Then you still intend to wed that son of Belial, overflowing with insolence and wine?" questioned the preacher bitterly; "your father's murderer."
"Mr. Lister is perfectly innocent, as I happen to know."