The Voice | Page 6

she
shrank from the emotion of his creed; she and her mother went to the
brick church under the locust-trees of Lower Ripple; and when her
mother died Philippa went there alone, for Henry Roberts, not being
permitted to bear witness in the Church, did so out of it, by sitting at
home on the Sabbath day, in a bare upper chamber, waiting for the

manifestation of the Holy Spirit. It never came. The Tongues never
spoke. Yet still, while the years passed, he waited,
listening--listening--listening; a kindly, simple old man with mystical
brown eyes, believing meekly in his own unworth to hear again that
Sound from Heaven, as of a rushing, mighty wind, that had filled the
London Chapel, bowing human souls before it as a great wind bows the
standing corn!
It was late in the sixties that Henry Roberts brought this faith and his
Philippa to the stone house on the Perryville pike, where, after some
months had passed, they were discovered by the old and the young
ministers. The two clergymen met once or twice in their calls upon the
new-comer, and each acquired an opinion of the other: John Fenn said
to himself that the old minister was a good man, if he was an
Episcopalian; and Dr. Lavendar said to William King that he hoped
there would be a match between the "theolog" and Philippa.
"The child ought to be married and have a dozen children," he said;
"although Fenn's little sister will do to begin on--she needs mothering
badly enough. Yes, Miss Philly ought to be making smearkase and
apple-butter for that pale and excellent young man. He intimated that I
was a follower of the Scarlet Woman because I wore a surplice."
"Now look here! I draw the line at that sort of talk," the doctor said; "he
can lay down the law to me, all he wants to; but when it comes to
instructing you--"
"Oh, well, he's young," Dr. Lavendar soothed him; "you can't expect
him not to know everything at his age."
"He's a squirt," said William. In those days in Old Chester middle age
was apt to sum up its opinion of youth in this expressive word.
"We were all squirts once," said Dr. Lavendar, "and very nice boys we
were, too--at least I was. Yes, I hope the youngster will see what a
sweet creature old Roberts's Philippa is."
She was a sweet creature; but as William King said, she was amusingly

old-fashioned. The Old Chester girl of those days, who seems (to look
back upon her in these days) so medieval, was modern compared to
Philippa! But there was nothing mystical about her; she was just
modest and full of pleasant silences and soft gaieties and simple,
startling truth-telling. At first, when they came to live near Perryville,
she used, when the weather was fine, to walk over the grassy road,
under the brown and white branches of the sycamores, into Old Chester,
to Dr. Lavendar's church. "I like to come to your church," she told him,
"because you don't preach quite such long sermons as Mr. Fenn does."
But when it rained or was very hot she chose the shorter walk and sat
under John Fenn, looking up at his pale, ascetic face, lighted from
within by his young certainties concerning the old ignorances of people
like Dr. Lavendar--life and death and eternity. Of Dr. Lavendar's one
certainty, Love, he was deeply ignorant, this honest boy, who was so
concerned for Philippa's father's soul! But Philippa did not listen much
to his certainties; she coaxed his little sister into her pew, and sat with
the child cuddled up against her, watching her turn over the leaves of
the hymn-book or trying to braid the fringe of Miss Philly's black silk
mantilla into little pigtails. Sometimes Miss Philly would look up at the
careworn young face in the pulpit and think how holy Mary's brother
was, and how learned--and how shabby; for he had only a housekeeper,
Mrs. Semple, to take care of him and Mary. Not but what he might
have had somebody besides Mrs. Semple! Philippa, for all her
innocence, could not help being aware that he might have had--almost
anybody! For others of Philly's sex watched the rapt face there in the
pulpit. When Philippa thought of that, a slow blush used to creep up to
her very temples. She saw him oftener in the pulpit than out of it,
because when he came to call on her father she was apt not to be
present. At first he came very frequently to see the Irvingite, because he
felt it his duty to "deal" with him; but he made so little impression that
he foresaw the time when it would be necessary to say that