The daily phoenix. [volume] (Columbia, S.C.) 1865-1878, 1867-06-05
eyes" " faltered Adele.

eyes," faltered Adele.
"And you love him-enough to
fiirt with him?" said he. every we'll,
you shall marry him."
"NIr Jessop," pleaded my mother,
.'I beg of you to stop and think.
Do not give way to passion"
Passion returned my father.
"Madam, I never was cooler and
more determined in my life. When
does the young man come here again?'
"To-day," admitted Adele.
1t so happened that within half On
hour, he rang the bell. My father
walked into the library.
$50, sir, you have been making
love to my daughter, have you?"
Mr.. Bayard flushed and stammered.
81 am not going to quarrel with
you about it now," continued my
father. 'I only wish to know if you
want to marry her. If SO, you must
do so Immediately. I'll give her to
you, with $4,000, in three weeks
from this day. Do you want time to
make up your mind? Here, Adele"
he called out; "come here to me-"
Adele came in.
"Your lover wants time to decide"
"You mistake, Mr.. Jessop," said
young Mr.. Bayard. "All this is so
sudden, SO strangel I did not know
whether Miss Adele herself was will
ling"
Willing? Faithl haven't asked
her. asked you if you were willing
to take her." answered my father. ''I
am practical man, Mr.. Bayard," he
continued, regaining his ordinary
measured tones, "and I'll have no
more nonsense in my house. My
eldest daughter has just put the
crowning touch to most unhappy
ENHANCEMENT by running away to get
married. I intend my second daugh-
ter shall finish her filtration by get
ting married under my own eyes.
So it was arranged. My mother
tried in vain to change my fathers
determination by every representa-
tion and art. AS for Adele, she ap-
peared to be very happy.
"Have you made fitting prepara-
tlons?' my father asked of my mother
when the day came.
81 did not suppose that any were
necessary beyond sending notice to
the clergyman, which L believe you
have done" was the answer.
mo preparations necessarily said
he; certainly they are necessary.
My daughter must be married in n
becoming way, in the house of her
father. 1t is due to myself-to my
name. The hour for the ceremony
was 10, L believe. Let it be DELAYED
for an hour. That, L think, should
afford you time to order proper col
lation, and all things accordingly.
At the appointed hour, my father
came walking slowly down stairs,
drawing on his white kid gloves,
dressed with the utmost precision.
There had been little confusion in
the house, owing to the absence of
the bridegroom. A note had been
sent, warning him of the change of
hour; but as he did not present himself
at IL o'clock, it had been followed
by message to ascertain if it had
been delivered. The second messen-
ger returned, saying that Mr.. Bayard
had been stricken with the cholera.
"Well, girl, will you go and nurse
him?' said my father "No, not a
case of cholera? Well, believe you
are right. He's not worth risking
your life for, and you're not married
to hin yet"
My father took off his white kids.
Poor Adele went to her room. We
ate some of the collation. for dinner.
Mr.. Bayard was very i'll; and, in
spite of ali care and skill, he died
that day.
Did Adele's heart break? No. She
was quite belle in. Brighton last
winter.