Chapter XII
LONELY days followed Polly's desertion of the parsonage. Mandy
went about her duties very quietly, feeling that the little
comments which once amused the pastor had now become an
interruption to thoughts in which she had no part. He would sit
for hours with his head in his hands, taking no notice of what
passed before him. She tried to think of new dishes to tempt his
appetite, and shook her head sadly as she bore the untasted food
back to the kitchen.
She sometimes found a portfolio of drawings lying open upon his
study table. She remembered the zeal with which he had planned
to remodel the church and parsonage, when he first came to them;
how his enthusiasm had gradually died for lack of encouragement;
and how he had at last put his books in a cupboard, where they
grew dusty from long neglect. She marvelled at their
reappearance now, but something in his set, far-away look made
her afraid to inquire. Thus she went on from day to day, growing
more impatient with Hasty and more silent with the pastor.
Mandy needed humor and companionship to oil the wheels of her
humdrum life; there was no more laughter in the house, and she
began to droop.
Polly had been away from the parsonage a month, when the
complacency of the village was again upset by the arrival of the
"Great American Circus.
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