Seems
queer the war in Europe should be the means of getting up a fair in
Brookville, but I guess it'll get up more'n that before they're
through fighting."
All this had been the preliminary to the speech which sent Wesley
forth for doughnuts, then to his study, ostensibly to finish his
lovely sermon, but in reality to think thoughts which made his young
forehead, of almost boyhood, frown, and his pleasant mouth droop,
then inexplicably smooth and smile. It was a day which no man in the
flush of youth could resist. That June day fairly rioted in through
the open windows. Mrs. Black's muslin curtains danced in the June
breeze like filmy-skirted nymphs. Wesley, whose imagination was
active, seemed to see forced upon his eager, yet reluctant, eyes,
radiant maidens, flinging their white draperies about, dancing a
dance of the innocence which preludes the knowledge of love. Sweet
scents came in through the windows, almond scents, honey scents, rose
scents, all mingled into an ineffable bouquet of youth and the quest
of youth.
Wesley rose stealthily; he got his hat; he tiptoed across the room.
Heavens! how thankful he was for access to the back stairs. Mrs.
Black was sweeping the parlor, and the rear of the house was
deserted. Down the precipitous back stairs crept the young minister,
listening to the sound of the broom on Mrs. Black's parlor carpet. As
long as that regular swish continued he was safe. Through the kitchen
he passed, feeling guilty as he smelled new peas cooking for his
delectation on Mrs.
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