Poppea of the Post-Office

by Mabel Osgood Wright

"Mr. Gilbert, did I understand you to say that the child is to be baptized this afternoon?" asked Miss Emmy, presently, not a trace of annoyance at his rebuff remaining in her manner or voice. "Who is going to do it, and will it be here or at one of the churches? I should like to send the lady baby some of our roses; I know she will love flowers by the way her eyes follow my hat."

"Mr. Latimer is going to do it; he's coming here, Miss Emmy, and we'd be grateful for a few posies to trick out the foreroom. I reckoned to get a new paper on it before this, but it doesn't seem any season to spend for ornaments."

"Mr. Latimer, an Episcopalian? Why, I thought that you were a Congregationalist, and your wife was certainly the daughter of Mr. Moore, who used to be Methodist preacher in Bridgeton."

"That's all so, Miss Emmy; but what I'm striving at in regards to the bringing up of lady baby is to be fair and unbiassed in all things where I can. Now, Mary belonging to one of the sects in town and me to another, it seems fair to divide 'round and give this child whatever benefit there is in the third. Then, too, they've got an organ down to the 'Piscopal Church and we've only got a tuning-fork, 'cause whenever an organ is brought up, John Angus votes it down as sinful."

"Aye, aye! he still holds to Kirk o' Scotland; he's vairy serious and canty," interposed Miss Emmy, with a well-feigned accent, "for his housekeeper told that last winter, when the cook asked higher wages, he couldn't give an answer until he'd pondered it on communion sabbath, which put off the evil day four weeks."

"The child likes music," continued Gilbert, "for only yesterday, when a fiddler with a dancing bear came past and I had him in to play, she'd a crept off after him in a twinkling while Satira's back was turned, if the pup there hadn't barked and tugged her by the skirt.

"Well, I asked Mr. Latimer and explained to him, and he said, 'Why not bring her to the church after service Sunday morning,' but when I told him Marygold was named in the foreroom, then he said he'd come up. I'm not asking a company,—Satira couldn't see her way to manage,—so there'll only be jest two or three, but I'd be pleased to see you, Miss Emmy, if you're interested that far to take the trouble."

"What is the news?" asked Miss Emmy, as she joined Mr. Esterbrook, who was walking to and fro under the maples that lined the walk opposite the post-office, a goodly quantity of their scarlet catkins decorating the wide brim of his hat.

"News? There isn't any, except that McClellan is still on his way to Richmond and there are some war bonds, 5-20's and 6-20's, going on the market that I think we should all subscribe to as far as we are able. I must speak to Elizabeth about them to-night."

Then as he raised the parasol in which there were several holes not in the original pattern and held it between her and the now really hot sun, he glanced at her face and saw, not only that it was flushed, but that it wore a wholly new expression, while the strings of her bonnet, that had been tied with a graceful precision, hung loose and bore the unmistakable print of moist fingers. Her face held Esterbrook's eyes until, unconsciously drawn, she looked up and in her turn was amazed at the sudden intensity of his usually placid countenance and the flash of his eyes as he shifted them.