Iowa voter. [volume] (Knoxville, Iowa) 1867-1874, 1870-09-22

was over, and. the bridal PARTY, including
Clara Avery, had been gone twenty -four
hours .lEgTg.1. ~
But the worst was yet to come. When
Hardy failed to appear at the wedding It
became necessary to supply his place as
groomsman. The choice OF substitute
fell on Jack Fillmore, 9 young lawyer from
St Louisa handsome fellow, with q
killing pair Of eyes, q pretty turn for SEN
timent, the ability to waltz all night with
out tagging, and any amount OF assurance.
Clars's tickle fancy was caught. In a
week she had transferred to him the whole
small stock Of her affections ; and when,
at the end of fortnight, Hardy, again
delayed by business, managed to join the
engaged TO his rival
He was not man to contest the posses
sion of such wOman's heart. He offered
| neither reproach Eor remonstrance, but
proudly renowned all claim upon her,
and departed in the very next steamer for
| Europe. "#
| But the poor fellow was hard hit. He
had honestly loved the shallow aud selfish
| beauty, and, moreover, he had believed in
her; and it Is a sore thing to have all
ones dearest illusions, as well as hopes,
shattered at once. If he had been com
PEELED to work for his living he would
| very likely have found speedy cure in
employment, but, unfortunately, he had
any amount of leisure in which to brood
over and magnify his eorrows. He ram
bled over Europe, seeking out all the
most melancholy places to 90 and be
wretched in, and finding kind of dismal
solace in the thought that there was no
solace for him. But he was too amiable
for misanthropy, and too healthy for per
petual gloom. Thackeray, that wise
student of human hearts, tells rs that, let
young man be ever 30 great sufferer from
the griefs of love, there comes time when
he begins to sleep sound O. nights, and to
have some relish for beef steak. So when,
at the end of two years. Hardy yielded to
the solicitations of his parents and re-
turned home, he was really not wholly
miserable. He still, indeed, regarded him
self as blighted being" He was fond
Of turning off the gas and sitting alone at
his window on stormy nights; OF think
ing what hollow world we live in and
of believing that for him the dream was
dreamed, the cup was drained, etc, etc.
He was very absurd admit; but then
his wound had been deep, and he did not
know yet how nearly healed it was
He was little annoyed on first reach
ing home, to find guest in the house, a
friend Of his sister julia On being pre-
sented to Miss Ada Morris, he noticed
merely q quiet and very self-possessed
young lady, who accepted his civil and
rather listless attentions with languid in
difference; and he could not have told,
after she left the room, whether she
kzsrx foex ho nd az n
He found her very little in his way, how
ever. The young ladies had their own
pursuits and their own circle Of gay asso-
GATES, with whom he fancied that he had
little in common! They seemed to have
no need Of him and 30, though he was
careful to pay Miss Morris such attentions
as courtesy demanded, he really saw very
little Of her, and was not at all attracted
by her. She, on her part, was by no
means charmed with her friends brother.
She thought him rather dull and unin-
teresting young man, too self-absorbed
and indOlent to be agreeable, and, after
the first day or two, took little notice OF
him in any way. .
One evening-it was Sunday, and so
the family were alone-Mr. and Mrs.
Hardy sat reading by the parlor fire; Julia
and her friend, on sofa in the corner,
were talking in low tones; while Lau-
renee, in small, unlighted room, was sit
ting by the window dreamily watching
the stars. Old Mr.. Hardy lsid aside his
book and turned TO Miss Morris
"Ads, my love, are you not intend
ing to. give US our Sunday evening
music" ,naH
"Certainly, my dear sir, if you wish it.
am glad you do, for always play to
papa on Sunday evenings, and it seems
like home"
She rose and went to the piano Lau
renee, who had not lost his passion for
music, listened curiously. He had not
seen enough Of the guest to be aware that
she played. But he soon saw that her
touch was true and delicate, and the
quiet, devotional airs she played were
well chosen. 1t was very pleasant, peace
full music and Laurence, sitting there un-
seen, listened with kind of enjoyment
that was new TO him. Al the end of half
an hour Miss Morris rose from the instru-
ment. $3.50 elt II
'"Pray, do not go yet, my dear child"
said the old gentleman. "Sing me some
thing first" ~
She reseated herself, and her fingers
wandered lightly over the keys for mo.
mcnC, VI IL Oh tuclI OWN hCCOlu- M ltuSoA
they struck the notes OF q familiar tune,
and in an instant she began to sing:
''Time grows not old with length of years." ETC.
At the third line she was joined by
fine, full tenor, coming from the dimly-
lighted room behind her. She started at
the sound, and turned to listen, but she
sang on. About the middle of the third
verse Laurence Hardy emerged from the
shelter of the inner room, and stood lean,
ing against the doorway, still carrying his
part Of the tune, and looking attentively
at Miss Morris, who, with her head turned
over her shoulder, was looking at him.
The song came to dead stop as the two
singers, as if by common impulse, came
hastily forward. They met halfway, the
gentleman clasping warmly the extended
hand of the lady. Both spoke at once.
And was it really your" she added,
while he exclaimed, Three times and out
| knew it could not fail"
The rest is quickly told. When two
young people pass at one step from in.
difference to intimacy, it does not take
them long to become lovers. The course
of their true love ram as smooth as heart
could desire, and their wedding took place