Sowing and Reaping - A Temperance Story | Page 9

pensive this morning," said Mr.
Romaine, noticing a shadow on the bright and beautiful face of Jeanette,
whose color had deepened by the plain remarks of her cousin Belle.
"What is the matter?"
"Oh nothing much, only my cousin Belle has been here this morning,
and she has been putting me on the stool of repentance."

"Why! what have you been doing that was naughty?"
"Oh! she was perfectly horror-stricken when I told her about the wine
we drank and Mrs. Glossop's party. I wish I had not said a word to her
about it."
"What did she say?"
"Oh she thought it was awful, the way we were going on. She made me
feel that I died [_sic_] something dreadful when I offered you a glass of
wine at Ma's silver wedding. I don't believe Belle ever sees a glass of
wine, without thinking of murder, suicide and a drunkard's grave."
"But we are not afraid of those dreadful things, are we Jeanette?"
"Of course not, but somehow Belle always makes me feel
uncomfortable, when she begins to talk on temperance. She says she is
terribly in earnest, and I think she is."
"Miss Gordon and I were great friends once," said Charles Romaine, as
a shadow flitted over his face, and a slight sigh escaped his lips.
"Were you? Why didn't you remain so?"
"Because she was too good for me."
"That is a very sorry reason."
"But it is true. I think Miss Gordon is an excellent young lady, but she
and I wouldn't agree on the temperance question. The man who marries
her has got to toe the mark. She ought to be a minister's wife."
"I expect she will be an old maid."
"I don't know, but if I were to marry her, I should prepare myself to go
to Church every Sunday morning and to stay home in the afternoon and
repeat my catechism."
"I would like to see you under her discipline."

"It would come hard on a fellow, but I might go farther and fare
worse."
"And so you and Belle were great friends, once?"
"Yes, but as we could not agree on the total abstinence question, we
parted company."
"How so? Did you part as lovers part?"
She with a wronged and broken heart? And you, rejoicing you were
free, Glad to regain you liberty?
"Not at all. She gave me the mitten and I had to take it."
"Were you very sorry?"
"Yes, till I met you."
"Oh! Mr. Romaine," said Jeanette blushing and dropping her eyes.
"Why not? I think I have found in your society an ample compensation
for the loss of Miss Gordon."
"But I think Belle is better than I am. I sometimes wish I was half so
good."
"You are good enough for me; Belle is very good, but somehow her
goodness makes a fellow uncomfortable. She is what I call
distressingly good; one doesn't want to be treated like a wild beast in a
menagerie, and to be every now and then stirred up with a long stick."
"What a comparison!"
"Well it is a fact; when a fellow's been busy all day pouring over Coke
and Blackstone, or casting up wearisome rows of figures, and seeks a
young lady's society in the evening, he wants to enjoy himself, to bathe
in the sunshine of her smiles, and not to be lectured about his
shortcomings. I tell you, Jeanette, it comes hard on a fellow."

"You want some one to smooth the wrinkles out of the brow of care,
and not to add fresh ones."
"Yes, and I hope it will be my fortune to have a fair soft hand like his,"
said Mr. Romaine, slightly pressing Jeanette's hand to perform the
welcome and agreeable task.
"Belle's hand would be firmer than mine for the talk."
"It is not the strong hand, but the tender hand I want in a woman."
"But Belle is very kind; she did it all for your own good."
"Of course she did; my father used to say so when I was a boy, and he
corrected me; but it didn't make me enjoy the correction."
"It is said our best friends are those who show us our faults, and teach
us how to correct them."
"My best friend is a dear, sweet girl who sits by my side, who always
welcomes me with a smile, and beguiles me so with her conversation,
that I take no note of the hours until the striking of the clock warns me
it is time to leave; and I should ask no higher happiness than to be
permitted to pass all the remaining hours of my life at her side. Can I
dare to hope for such a happy fortune?"
A bright flush overspread the