looked down.
“Do you – will she get work,” she asked, “or is she going to marry someone.”
“I know she is not going to marry,” David said promptly. “She knows no one – no young men.”
“Except you,” ‘Thusia suggested, looking up. As she met David’s dear eyes her face reddened as it had on that first day at the wharf. The hand that lay on the gate trembled visibly; she withdrew it and hid it at her side.
“I like Rose, but I am not a candidate for her hand, if that is what you mean,” said David.
‘Thusia suddenly felt infinitely silly and childish.
“I mean – I don’t mean – ” she stammered. “I must not keep you standing here. Good-by.”
“Good-by,” David said, and turned away.
He took a dozen steps up the path toward the manse. He stopped short and turned.
“‘Thusia!” he called.
“Yes?” she replied, and turned back.
David walked to the gate and leaned upon it.
“What is it,” ‘Thusia asked.
“You asked about Rose Hinch. I think we should try to do something for her – ”
‘Thusia’s eyes were on David’s hands. Now David’s hands and not ‘Thusia’s were trembling. She watched them as if fascinated. She looked up and the light in his eyes thrilled her.
“‘Thusia, I know now!” David said. “I love you and I have always loved you and I shall love you forever.”
Her heart stood still.
“David! but we had better wait. We had better think it over,” she managed to say. “You had better – you’re the dominie – I – ”
“Don’t you care for met” he asked.
She put her hand on his and David clasped it. Kisses ‘and embraces usually help carry off a moment that can hardly be anything but awkward, but kisses and embraces are distinctly impossible across a dominie’s manse gate in full day, with the Mannings on their porch across the street. ‘Thusia laughed a mischievous little laugh.
“What!” David asked.
“I’ll be the funniest wife for a dominie!” she said. “Oh, David, do you think I’ll do!”
And so, as the fairy tales say, they were married. Fairy tales properly end so, with a brief “and lived happily ever after,” and so may most tales of real life end, but, however the minister’s life may run, a minister’s wife is apt to find the married years sufficiently interesting. She marries not only a husband but an official position, and the latter is quite apt to lead to plentiful situations.
Mary Wiggett, calling David back too late, did not fall into a decline or die for love. Not until she lost David finally did she realize how deeply she had loved him, but she did not sulk or repine. She even served as a bridesmaid for ‘Thusia, and with ‘Thusia planned the wedding gown. She almost took the place of a mother, and advised and worked to make ‘Thusia’s trousseau beautiful. She seemed to wish David’s bride to be all she herself would have been had she been David’s bride. ‘Thusia was too happy to think or care why Mary showed such interest, and David, who could not avoid hearing of it, was pleased and grateful.
The crowning act of Mary’s kindness was asking ‘Thusia to call Rose Hinch from her poverty to help with the plainer sewing. The three girls spent many days together at the Fraggs’ and, although David was mentioned as seldom as ever a bridegroom was mentioned, all three felt they were laboring for him in making his bride fine. Mary, with her calm efficiency, seemed years older than ‘Thusia, and thus the three worked – and were to work together for many years – for love of David.
V. CHURCH TROUBLES
THE leaves of the maples before the small white manse were red with their October hue, and the sun rays were slanting low across the little front yard at a late afternoon angle, when David, his hat in his hand and his long black coat thrown open, paused a few moments at his gate to greet Rose Hinch, who was approaching from up the hill.
David had changed little. He was still straight and slender, his yellow hair still curled over his broad forehead, and his gray eyes were still clear and bright. His motto, “Keep an even mind under all circumstances,” still hung above his desk in his study. For nearly six years, happy years, ‘Thusia had been David’s wife.
The old rivalry between ‘Thusia and Mary seemed forgotten. For one year old Wiggett, refusing Mary’s pleadings, had sat under a Congregational preacher, but the Congregational Church – being already supplied with leaders – offered him small opportunity to exert his stubborn and somewhat surly desire for dictatorship, and he returned to sit under and glare at David, and resumed his position of most powerful elder.
During the first year of ‘Thusia’s married life
Mary was often at the manse. ‘Thusia’s love was still in the frantically eager stage; she would have liked to have lived with one arm around David’s neck, and she was unwittingly in constant danger of showing herself all a dominie’s wife should not be. Her taste for bright clothes and her carelessness of conventionality threatened a harsh awakening for David. During that dangerous first year Mary made herself almost one of the household.
‘Thusia, strange to say, did not resent it. Mary kept, then and always, her love for David, as a good woman can. But little older than ‘Thusia, she was far wiser and immeasurably less volatile and, having lost David as a lover, she transmuted her love into service.
Probably she never thought her feelings into a conscious formula. At the most she realized that she was still very fond of David and that she was happier when helping him than at any other time.
‘Thusia’s gay companions of the days before David’s coming were quite impossible now that ‘Thusia was a dominie’s bride, and ‘Thusia recognized this and was grateful for Mary’s companionship during the months following the honeymoon. A young bride craves a friend of her own age, and Mary was doubly welcome. Her advice was always sound, and ‘Thusia was quick to take it. Mary’s friendship also made the congregation’s acceptance of ‘Thusia far easier, for anyone so promptly taken up by the daughter of the church’s richest member and most prominent elder had her way well prepared in advance. Mary, fearing perhaps that ‘Thusia might be annoyed by what might seem unwarranted interest in her affairs, was wise enough to have herself elected head of the women’s organization that had the care and betterment of the manse and its furnishings. To make the house fit for a bride she suggested and carried through changes and purchases. She opened her own purse freely, and what ‘Thusia did not suggest she herself suggested.
“Mary is lovely!” ‘Thusia told David.
A year or two after Mary had thus made herself almost indispensable to ‘Thusia she married.
“Oh, I knew it long ago!” ‘Thusia said in answer to David’s expression of surprise at the announcement of the impending wedding. She had known it a month, which was just one day less than Mary herself had known it. Mary’s husband, one of the Derlings of Derlingport, was due to inherit wealth some day, but in the meanwhile old Sash-and-Door Derling was glad to shift the nattily dressed,
