PAYING THE MORTGAGE.
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��which it shall be, but I shall not take your answer now. I never yield when I have reached a decision. Think ofRegis. Can you bear to be separated from him?"
He was gone, but before she had time to think of Regis, Aunt Jane appeared, and watching him as he rode away, expressed her satisfaction with what had trans- pired.
"You done well," she said heartily. "He didn't know you had a witness hid away, but when he began to talk, I give the bed room door a hitch, so I could see him, and hear all he said, too. Fve faith the interest'll be paid somehow, and he's promised to wait for the rest. But about them taxes and debts. I'll find out. He'd scare some girls into marryin' him. He's got most everybody in town under his thumb, except Aunt Jane and the minister and Cam Bassett. He come pretty near getting a hitch on my house, but he just missed it. I'll see, I'll see. Don't give up. He won't be back to-day nor to-morrer."
"I hope not. Don't go now. Aunt Jane."
"I must, child. I've got a message for the minister, though I must look round 'fore I see him. Good bye."
Then was Elsie's hour of weak- ness, and she wept despairingly. She seemed hedged in on every side. She w r as in the power of a merciless man, and yet he professed to love her ; prom- ised to provide for her brother and re- lieve her of all care. Others had sacri- ficed themselves and still lived on. Driv- en from their home, where could they go ? She could earn a little by knitting and sewing; Regis could earn a little more ; but there was the mortgage.
"What's goin' to be done for them Dunlap children?" asked Aunt Jane ab- ruptly, when she found the minister standing by the parsonage gate.
"I heard they were provided for by Mr. Greenleaf."
"There ain't no truth in that, Mr. Eld- ridge. I know all about it, and I'll tell you. I had it first hand, too, so there won't be no mistake."
The minister listened patiently, utter- ing now and then an ejaculation of sur- prise or indignation.
��"Now, if you'll pray for light, and ways and means, 'twill be your share, and I'll see what I can do. If you had money, I know you'd give it, but there ain't nothing required of folks more'n they've got. Pray hard, for it's a rough place to pull over when Peter Greenleaf s hitched on his oxen to pull tother way."
"Stay to dinner and perhaps some light will shine upon the darkness," said the minister, pleasantly, as his companion turned to leave him.
"No, thank you, that an't the way light's comin', and I've got my dinner w r aitin' to home."
That day Elsie Dunlap read the letter of which her grandmother had told her, and from it learned much she had not before known ; much, too, which grieved and saddened her.
"If I leave you with the mortgage un- paid you must do the best you can. I can not advise you, only don't trust Mr. Greenleaf, and don't let Regis go away from you. If the worst comes, perhaps Aunt Jane will take you in. and you can manage to feed and clothe yourselves. But don't trust Peter Greenleaf. I was obliged to go to him for money, but you will be under no such necessity."
These were the closing paragraphs of a letter which had for her the authority of a voice from the dead, and she re- peated the declaration made in the open- ing of my story. Early in the evening, Regis came-, tired, but so glad to be at home that he soon forgot his fatigue.
"How much money have we got?" he asked looking up into his sister's face."
"Not a dollar," she replied.
"I shall have a dollar to-morrow night, so there'll be one in the house, and we must keep it till we get a mate to it. We've got lots of potatoes and corn, and hay enough to keep the cow, so we shan't starve if we don't buy any thing at the store ; and you can mend up my clothes so they'll last. Then we can sell th? pig and some chickens, and a tub of butter, and that'll bring some money. We must pay up the mortgage. Mrs. Beman says Mr. Greenleaf wants you to marry him,andItoldher you just wouldn't do it, will you?"
"No, I willnoZ."
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