The long windows shed some light,
however, but as it was Saturday night, this was attributed, by the few
who noticed it, to preparations for the next Sabbath morning. Before
setting out, Samson Hat, observing his employer to shake a trifle, asked
him if a dram of whiskey would not be proper.
"No, boy; this is a wedding without wine. I shall need all my wits to
find my manners."
He entered the church, and found it warmed, and the minister already
present in his surplice, kneeling alone at the altar. Mr. Tilghman
arose, with his youthful face very pale, and tears upon his cheeks, and
seeing his neglected parishioner and the serving-man, came down the
aisle.
"Mr. Milburn," he said, extending his hand, "I hope to congratulate,
after this ceremony, a Christian-hearted bridegroom, and one who will
take the rare charge which has fallen to him, in tender keeping. My
endeavor shall be to love you, sir, if you will let me! Miss Vesta is
the priestess of Princess Anne, and if you take her from our sight and
hearing, even God's ministrations in this church will seem hollow, I
fear."
"To me they would," said Milburn, "though from no disrespect to our
pastor."
"You have been a faithful parishioner," resumed Tilghman, "during my
brief labor here, as in my boyhood, when I little dreamed I should fill
that desk. You know, perhaps, that it was from the hopeless love of my
cousin Custis, I fled to God for consolation, and he made me his humble
minister.
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