So she made another effort, but her father was
determined.
"I must, I must; I shall die easier, and he will never tell. We have
known him so long. Twenty-five years he has been here, and he took to us
from the first. Do you remember how often he used to come and read to
you on the bench under the apple tree?"
"Yes, father," Hannah answered, with a gasp, and he went on:
"Seeing you two together so much, I used to think he had a liking for
you, and you for him. Did you, Hannah? Were you and the minister ever
engaged?"
"No, father, never," Hannah replied, as she pressed her hands tightly
together, while two great burning tears rolled down her cheeks.
"And yet you were a comely enough lass then," her father rejoined, as if
bent on tormenting her. "You had lost your bright color to be sure, but
there was something very winsome in your face and eyes, and manner; and
he might better have married you than the sharp-eyed, sharp-tongued,
fussy Martha Craig, who, like the Martha of old, is troubled about many
things, and leads the minister a stirred up kind of life.
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