I do not know how matters
would have terminated, if Teresa had not at this moment come into the
garden with a black-bordered letter in her hand which she delivered to our
father. He took it silently and opened it as Teresa carried away the
tea-pot.
I saw immediately by my father's expression that the letter carried serious
news, and I am sure Louis noticed it also for he completely forgot to
return my kick.
"Teresa!" called my father.
"All right, I'm coming," said that good lady.
"Read this, and tell me what you think of it," and my father handed the
letter to the old servant.
Teresa seated herself at the end of the table between Louis and me, and
with her head in her hand commenced to read--Teresa was not very
well-educated and she read the letter very slowly and half-aloud. "Who
wrote this?" was her first question.
"The Pastor of the village," replied my father.
"A minister!" exclaimed Teresa. "He's a mighty poor writer for a minister,
and no doubt his mother paid mighty well for his 'education.'"
My father smiled a bit sadly.
"You don't understand it, Teresa?"
"Yes, yes; I understand half of it, and I think I can guess at the other
half.
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