The Damnation of Theron Ware | Page 6

Tecumseh gave it entire credit. The throngs about the doors
dwindled as by magic, and the aisles cleared. Local interest was dead;
and even some of the pewholders rose and made their way out. One of
these murmured audibly to his neighbors as he departed that HIS pew
could be had now for sixty dollars.
So it happened that when, a little later on, the appointment of Theron
Ware to Octavius was read out, none of the people of Tecumseh either
noted or cared. They had been deeply interested in him so long as it
seemed likely that he was to come to them--before their clearly
expressed desire for him had been so monstrously ignored. But now
what became of him was no earthly concern of theirs.
After the Doxology had been sung and the Conference formally
declared ended, the Wares would fain have escaped from the flood of
handshakings and boisterous farewells which spread over the front part
of the church. But the clergymen were unusually insistent upon
demonstrations of cordiality among themselves--the more, perhaps,
because it was evident that the friendliness of their local hosts had
suddenly evaporated--and, of all men in the world, the present
incumbent of the Octavius pulpit now bore down upon them with noisy
effusiveness, and defied evasion.
"Brother Ware--we have never been interduced--but let me clasp your
hand! And--Sister Ware, I presume-- yours too!"
He was a portly man, who held his head back so that his face seemed
all jowl and mouth and sandy chin-whisker. He smiled broadly upon
them with half-closed eyes, and shook hands again.
"I said to 'em," he went on with loud pretence of heartiness, "the minute
I heerd your name called out for our dear Octavius, "I must go over an'
interduce myself." It will be a heavy cross to part with those dear
people, Brother Ware, but if anything could wean me to the notion, so

to speak, it would be the knowledge that you are to take up my labors
in their midst. Perhaps--ah--perhaps they ARE jest a trifle close in
money matters, but they come out strong on revivals. They'll need a
good deal o' stirrin' up about parsonage expenses, but, oh! such seasons
of grace as we've experienced there together!" He shook his head, and
closed his eyes altogether, as if transported by his memories.
Brother Ware smiled faintly in decorous response, and bowed in silence;
but his wife resented the unctuous beaming of content on the other's
wide countenance, and could not restrain her tongue.
"You seem to bear up tolerably well under this heavy cross, as you call
it," she said sharply.
"The will o' the Lord, Sister Ware--the will o' the Lord!" he responded,
disposed for the instant to put on his pompous manner with her, and
then deciding to smile again as he moved off. The circumstance that he
was to get an additional three hundred dollars yearly in his new place
was not mentioned between them.
By a mutual impulse the young couple, when they had at last gained the
cool open air, crossed the street to the side where over-hanging trees
shaded the infrequent lamps, and they might be comparatively alone.
The wife had taken her husband's arm, and pressed closely upon it as
they walked. For a time no word passed, but finally he said, in a grave
voice,--
"It is hard upon you, poor girl."
Then she stopped short, buried her face against his shoulder, and fell to
sobbing.
He strove with gentle, whispered remonstrance to win her from this
mood, and after a few moments she lifted her head and they resumed
their walk, she wiping her eyes as they went.
"I couldn't keep it in a minute longer!" she said, catching her breath
between phrases. "Oh, WHY do they behave so badly to us, Theron?"

He smiled down momentarily upon her as they moved along, and
patted her hand.
"Somebody must have the poor places, Alice," he said consolingly. "I
am a young man yet, remember. We must take our turn, and be patient.
For 'we know that all things work together for good.'"
"And your sermon was so head-and-shoulders above all the others!"
she went on breathlessly. "Everybody said so! And Mrs. Parshall heard
it so DIRECT that you were to be sent here, and I know she told
everybody how much I was lotting on it--I wish we could go right off
tonight without going to her house--I shall be ashamed to look her in
the face--and of course she knows we're poked off to that miserable
Octavius.--Why, Theron, they tell me it's a worse place even than we've
got now!"
"Oh, not at all," he put in reassuringly. "It has grown to be a large
town--oh, quite twice the size of Tyre.