and improper for you to be courtin'
of him right in his own house,--you know folks will talk,--I thought I'd
tell you 'cause I think so much of you,' says she.
"Huldy was a gal of spirit, and she despised the talk, but it made her
drefful uncomfortable; and when she got home at night she sat down in
the mor-nin'-glory porch, quite quiet, and didn't sing a word.
"The minister he had heard the same thing from one of his deakins that
day; and, when he saw Huldy so kind o' silent, he says to her, 'Why
don't you sing, my child?'
"He hed a pleasant sort o' way with him, the minister had, and Huldy had
got to likin' to be with him; and it all come over her that perhaps
she ought to go away; and her throat kind o' filled up so she couldn't
hardly speak; and, says she, 'I can't sing to-night.'
"Says he, 'You don't know how much good you're singin' has done me, nor
how much good _you_ have done me in all ways, Huldy. I wish I knew how
to show my gratitude.'
"'O sir!' says Huldy, '_is_ it improper for me to be here?'
"'No, dear,' says the minister, 'but ill-natured folks will talk; but
there is one way we can stop it, Huldy--if you will marry me. You'll
make me very happy, and I'll do all I can to make you happy. Will you?'
"Wal, Huldy never told me jist what she said to the minister,--gals
never does give you the particulars of them 'are things jist as you'd
like 'em,--only I know the upshot and the hull on't was, that Huldy she
did a consid'able lot o' clear starchin' and ironin' the next two days;
and the Friday o' next week the minister and she rode over together
to Dr. Lothrop's in Old Town; and the doctor, he jist made 'em man and
wife, 'spite of envy of the Jews,' as the hymn says. Wal, you'd better
believe there was a starin' and a wonderin' next Sunday mornin' when the
second bell was a tollin', and the minister walked up the broad aisle
with Huldy, all in white, arm in arm with him, and he opened the
minister's pew, and handed her in as if she was a princess; for, you
see, Parson Carryl come of a good family, and was a born gentleman, and
had a sort o' grand way o' bein' polite to women-folks. Wal, I guess
there was a rus'lin' among the bunnets. Mis' Pipperidge gin a great
bounce, like corn poppin' on a shovel, and her eyes glared through her
glasses at Huldy as if they'd a sot her afire; and everybody in the
meetin' house was a starin', I tell _yew_. But they couldn't none of
'em say nothin' agin Huldy's
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