The next morning as we finished breakfast, and before we arose from the table, Mr. Wyman said,
“I owe you for two weeks’ work, Marston: I am sorry for what happened yesterday; still I must have the direction of what shall be done on my own farm. I shall fill your place with some one who will do what I ask of him.”
“Had it been any other than a plain, positive command, I should have gone with you, Mr. Wyman; but so positive is the decree with regard to the Sabbath, there could be no question with me concerning my duty.”
Mrs. Wyman and Alice followed me down the walk, and begged me not to cherish unkind feelings towards Mr. Wyman.
“No fear of that,” I answered. “He has always been my friend, and I shall not think unkindly of him for this. He is too good a man not to be sorry when he thinks of it with his accustomed coolness.”
I had nothing to do but to walk back to Claverton, and tell Jennie what had befallen me.
“I am sorry, Marston; but I should have been still sorrier had you acted otherwise;” and she pressed her red lips to mine. “An entire obedience is necessary. Do not be troubled; some good will come of it.”
We walked down to the little gate, where stood a messenger from Mr. Willett.
“Mr. Willett would like to see Marston,” as Jennie took the message.
“He has not been well for several weeks, and has inquired for you continually,” she said, as she held the gate for me to pass.