The Little Minister

“Of course you are. Why, every one knows that. Well, I forgive you; only remember, you have admitted that it was all your fault?”

She was pointing her finger at him like a schoolmistress, and Gavin hastened to answer —

“You were not to blame at all.”

“I like to hear you say that,” explained the representative of the more reasonable sex, “because it was really all my fault.”

“No, no.”

“Yes, it was; but of course I could not say so until you had asked my pardon. You must understand that?”

The representative of the less reasonable sex could not understand it, but he agreed recklessly, and it seemed so plain to the woman that she continued confidentially —

“I pretended that I did not want to make it up, but I did.”

“Did you?” asked Gavin, elated.

“Yes, but nothing could have induced me to make the first advance. You see why?”

“Because I was so unreasonable?” asked Gavin, doubtfully.

“Yes, and nasty. You admit you were nasty?”

“Undoubtedly, I have an evil temper. It has brought me to shame many times.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” said the Egyptian, charitably. “I like it. I believe I admire bullies.”

“Did I bully you?”

“I never knew such a bully. You quite frightened me.”

Gavin began to be less displeased with himself.

“You are sure,” inquired Babbie, “that you had no right to question me about the ring?”

“Certain,” answered Gavin.

“Then I will tell you all about it,” said Babbie, “for it is natural that you should want to know.”

He looked eagerly at her, and she had become serious and sad.

“I must tell you at the same time,” she said, “who I am, and then – then we shall never see each other any more.”

“Why should you tell me?” cried Gavin, his hand rising to stop her.

“Because you have a right to know,” she replied, now too much in earnest to see that she was yielding a point. “I should prefer not to tell you; yet there is nothing wrong in my secret, and it may make you think of me kindly when I have gone away.”

“Don’t speak in that way, Babbie, after you have forgiven me.”

“Did I hurt you? It was only because I know that you cannot trust me while I remain a mystery. I know 174 you would try to trust me, but doubts would cross your mind. Yes, they would; they are the shadows that mysteries cast. Who can believe a gypsy if the odds are against her?”

“I can,” said Gavin; but she shook her head, and so would he had he remembered three recent sermons of his own preaching.

“I had better tell you all,” she said, with an effort.

“It is my turn now to refuse to listen to you,” exclaimed Gavin, who was only a chivalrous boy. “Babbie, I should like to hear your story, but until you want to tell it to me I will not listen to it. I have faith in your honour, and that is sufficient.”

It was boyish, but I am glad Gavin said it; and now Babbie admired something in him that deserved admiration. His faith, no doubt, made her a better woman.

“I admit that I would rather tell you nothing just now,” she said, gratefully. “You are sure you will never say again that you don’t understand me?”

“Quite sure,” said Gavin, bravely. “And by-and-by you will offer to tell me of your free will?”

“Oh, don’t let us think of the future,” answered Babbie. “Let us be happy for the moment.”

This had been the Egyptian’s philosophy always, but it was ill-suited for Auld Licht ministers, as one of them was presently to discover.

“I want to make one confession, though,” Babbie continued, almost reluctantly. “When you were so nasty a little while ago, I didn’t go back to Nanny’s. I stood watching you from behind a tree, and then, for an excuse to come back, I – I poured out the water. Yes, and I told you another lie. I really came back to admit that it was all my fault, if I could not get you to say that it was yours. I am so glad you gave in first.”

She was very near him, and the tears had not yet dried on her eyes. They were laughing eyes, eyes in 175 distress, imploring eyes. Her pale face, smiling, sad, dimpled, yet entreating forgiveness, was the one prominent thing in the world to him just then. He wanted to kiss her. He would have done it as soon as her eyes rested on his, but she continued without regarding him —

“How mean that sounds! Oh, if I were a man I should wish to be everything that I am not, and nothing that I am. I should scorn to be a liar, I should choose to be open in all things, I should try to fight the world honestly. But I am only a woman, and so – well, that is the kind of man I should like to marry.”

“A minister may be all these things,” said Gavin, breathlessly.

“The man I could love,” Babbie went on, not heeding him, almost forgetting that he was there, “must not spend his days in idleness as the men I know do.”

“I do not.”

“He must be brave, no mere worker among others, but a leader of men.”

“All ministers are.”

“Who makes his influence felt.”

“Assuredly.”

“And takes the side of the weak against the strong, even though the strong be in the right.”

“Always my tendency.”

“A man who has a mind of his own, and having once made it up stands to it in defiance even of – ”

“Of his session.”

“Of the world. He must understand me.”

“I do.”