The Bondage of Ballinger | Page 5

Ephraim Playf air's more
pretentious home in the outskirts of the village. And if sweet Hannah
Playf air's eyes were a little brighter at these times, and if smiles played
more frequently around her demure mouth and lighted up her grave
face, only the rascal Tom knew the secret. For Friend Ephraim, though
a just man, was stern and unyielding, and looked with little favor on the
visits of the youth not of his faith and giving no promise of a profitable
career. Long and solemnly he discoursed to Hannah on the evils of
unguarded associations, and bade her steel herself against the impulsive
dictates of a foolish heart. And Hannah listened and sighed and fought
against nature as her father commanded. Yet Tom was no less eloquent
and persuasive in his own way and pleaded his cause so successfully
that the words of Ephraim were forgotten in the greater joy and hope;
so these two kept their own counsel and lived their love life in
themselves, though what plans they made, or what plots they devised, it
would be an insult to true love to detail. But one night and all the
village knew that Tom was going back to the city on the late train little
Hannah was graver than usual, and when at nine o'clock her father shut
the Bible before the evening prayer, she came and knelt at his side, and
put her head on his shoulder. And after prayer she restrained him, and
threw her arms about his neck, and pressed her cheek to his, and
smoothed his silvery hair, and petted him, while the tears stood in her
eyes and her voice trembled as she spoke. So Ephraim went to bed little
wondering, for he was a dull man as well as a just and stern and
unyielding, and not until morning did the light break in upon him, when
Hannah did not respond to his call, and when investigation showed her
room empty, her bed undisturbed, and a letter addressed "To Father"
pinned on the old-fashioned mirror. Ephraim read it laboriously:
Honoured Sir: If I have gone contrary to thy wishes, and in
forgetfulness of thy great goodness, I pray thee to think kindly of thy

little Hannah and to remember that she loves thee now as always. By
the time that thee has read this letter I shall be married to Thomas, who
truly loves thee and would be an affectionate and dutiful son. If we may
return to ask thy forgiveness, and to implore thy blessing, let us know
this proof of thy kindness. But if the great sorrow comes to my
happiness that we may not be forgiven, and that thy heart is hard
against thy little daughter, give me leave to keep on loving thee and
blessing thee for thy never-failing love and tenderness. I am, honoured
sir, so long as life shall last, Thy true and devoted daughter, HANNAH.
Then Ephrairn Playfair, a dull man, and a stern but just man, felt a little
tugging at his heart, and a choking in the throat, and while the impulse
was yet on him he sat down and wrote simply: "Thee may return to thy
father." So Hannah came back to the village, with its quiet streets of
shade elms and its routine of droning life she had for the first time put
behind her, and it seemed to her as if she had lived many years in the
few hours that had passed since Thomas came and topk her away to the
bustle and roar of the strange life. She went on down the street to the
old house with the wide porch, where Ephraim Playfair sat with her
letter in his hand. Her heart smote her as she saw him, but she ran
quickly up to him, with her cheeks burning and a half-merry look in her
eyes, and drew his face down to hers and kissed him. He said gravely:
"Thee acted hastily, Hannah,"
"Nay, father," replied the girl, roguishly, "how could one whom thee
has trained act hastily? We acted only after much consideration and
argument."
"Still I think," went on the old man, ignoring the correction, "that thee
will live to repent thy choice, for Thomas is but an ill mate for any
woman. Thee has taken him for better or worse, for richer or poorer,
and I fear thee will find thy lot both worse and poorer."
But little Hannah only kissed the old man more tenderly, and looking
shyly into his face, said softly, "Then, father, I must only endure the
more patiently my fate and remember the good words thee has taught
me from my youth up, 'Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with

thy might.'"

THOMAS BALLINGER began his honeymoon