“You a minister’s wife, Pauline!  Oh, child, you are jesting!” said Beulah, with an incredulous smile.

“No! absurd as it may seem, it is nevertheless true.  I am to be married in March.  Ma says I am a fool; Mr. Lockhart encourages and supports me; and Uncle Guy laughs heartily every time the affair is alluded to.  At first, before we went to Europe, there was violent opposition from my mother, but she found I was in earnest, and now it is all settled for March.  Uncle Guy knows Ernest Mortimor, and esteems him very highly, but thinks that I am the last woman in the United States who ought to be a minister’s wife.  I believe he told Ernest as much; but of course he did not believe him.”

“Where does Mr. Mortimor reside?”

“In Georgia; has charge of a church there.  He had a sister at the same school I attended in New York; and, during a visit to her, he says he met his evil-angel in me.  He is about five years my senior; but he is here now, and you will have an opportunity of forming your own opinion of him.”

“How long have you known him?”

“About two years.  I am rather afraid of him, to tell you the honest truth.  He is so grave, and has such rigid notions, that I wonder very much what ever induced his holiness to fancy such a heedless piece of womanhood as he is obliged to know I am; for I never put on any humility or sanctity.  What do you think, Beulah?  Uncle Guy coolly told me, this morning, in Ernest’s presence, that he was only charmed by my pretty face, and that if I did not learn some common sense he would very soon repent his choice.  Oh, the doleful warnings I have been favored with!  But you shall all see that I am worthy of Mr. Mortimer’s love.”

Her beautiful face was radiant with hope; yet in the violet eyes there lurked unshed tears.

“I am very glad that you are so happy, Pauline; and, if you will, I am very sure you can make yourself all that Mr. Mortimor could desire.”

“I am resolved I will.  Yesterday he talked to me very seriously about the duties which he said would devolve on me.  I tried to laugh him out of his sober mood, but he would talk about ’pastoral relations,’ and what would be expected of a pastor’s wife, until I was ready to cry with vexation.  Ernest is not dependent on his salary; his father is considered wealthy, I believe, which fact reconciles ma in some degree.  To-morrow he will preach in Dr. Hew’s church, and you must go to hear him.  I have never yet heard him preach, and am rather anxious to know what sort of sermons I am to listen to for the remainder of my life.”  She looked at her watch, and rose.

“I shall certainly go to hear him,” answered Beulah.

“Of course you will, and after service you must go home and spend the day with me.  Ma begs that you will not refuse to dine with her; and, as you are engaged all the week, Uncle Guy expects you also; that is, he told me to insist on your coming, but thought you would probably decline.  Will you come?  Do say yes.”