"And now where does the trouble come in?" asked the miller when he had read the letter.
"I cannot marry him," said Miss Chester.
"Do you want to marry him?" asked Father Abram.
"Oh, I love him," she answered, "but -- " Down went her head and she sobbed again.
"Come, Miss Rose," said the miller; "you can give me your confidence.Ido not question you, but I think you can trust me.""I do trust you," said the girl."I will tell you why I must refuse Ralph.I am nobody; I haven't even a name; the name I call myself is a lie.Ralph is a noble man.I love him with all my heart, but I can never be his.""What talk is this?" said Father Abram."You said that you remember your parents.Why do you say you have no name? I do not understand.""I do remember them," said Miss Chester."I remember them too well.My first recollections are of our life somewhere in the far South.We moved many times to different towns and states.I have picked cotton, and worked in factories, and have often gone without enough food and clothes.
My mother was sometimes good to me; my father was always cruel, and beat me.I think they were both idle and unsettled.
"One night when we were living in a little town on a river near Atlanta they had a great quarrel.It was while they were abusing and taunting each other that I learned -- oh, Father Abram, I learned that I didn't even have the right to be -- don't you understand? I had no right even to a name; I was nobody.
"I ran away that night.I walked to Atlanta and found work.I gave myself the name of Rose Chester, and have earned my own living ever since.Now you know why I cannot marry Ralph -- and, oh, I can never tell him why."Better than any sympathy, more helpful than pity, was Father Abram's depreciation of her woes.
"Why, dear, dear! is that all?" he said."Fie, fie! I thought something was in the way.If this perfect young man is a man at all he will not care a pinch of bran for your family tree.Dear Miss Rose, take my word for it, it is yourself he cares for.Tell him frankly, just as you have told me, and I'll warrant that he will laugh at your story, and think all the more of you for it.""I shall never tell him," said Miss Chester, sadly."And I shall never marry him nor any one else.I have not the right."But they saw a long shadow come bobbing up the sunlit road.And then came a shorter one bobbing by its side; and presently two strange figures approached the church.The long shadow was made by Miss Phoebe Summers, the organist, come to practise.Tommy Teague, aged twelve, was responsible for the shorter shadow.It was Tommy's day to pump the organ for Miss Phoebe, and his bare toes proudly spurned the dust of the road.
Miss Phoebe, in her lilac-spray chintz dress, with her accurate little curls hanging over each ear, courtesied low to Father Abram, and shook her curls ceremoniously at Miss Chester.Then she and her assistant climbed the steep stairway to the organ loft.
In the gathering shadows below, Father Abram and Miss Chester lingered.
