“Not that I know of,” said Miss Betty.
On which the lawyer poured into her astonished ear all the latest news on the subject, and if it had lost nothing before reaching his house in the town, it rather gained in marvels as he repeated it to Miss Betty.
No wonder that the little lady was anxious to get home to question Thomasina, and that somewhat before the usual hour she said.—
“Sister Kitty, if it’s not too soon for the servant——”
And the parson, threading his way to where Mrs. Dunmaw’s china crape shawl (dyed crimson) shone in the bow window, said, “The clergy should keep respectable hours; especially when they are as old as I am. Will you allow me to thank you for a very pleasant evening, and to say good-night?”
THE PARSON AND THE LUBBER-FIEND.
“Do you think there’d be any harm in leaving it alone, sister Betty?” asked Miss Kitty, tremulously.
They had reached Lingborough, and the parson had come in with them, by Miss Betty’s request, and Thomasina had been duly examined:
“Eh, Miss Betty, why should ye chase away good luck with the minister?” cried she.
“Sister Kitty! Thomasina!” said Miss Betty. “I would not accept good luck from a doubtful quarter to save Lingborough. But if It can face this excellent clergyman, the Being who haunted my great-grandfather’s farm is still welcome to the old barns, and you, Thomasina, need not grudge It cream or curds.”