The Idaho world. [volume] (Idaho City, Idaho Territory) 1864-1918, 1871-10-26
IDAHO WORLD.
FOREVER TRUE OR PLUCKED FROM THE
~#I'a Ts GRAVE.

"A grand country wedding. livery
thing was in preparation. One week
from that day, and Constance Pierre
point, 1.-THE belle of country, and the
only daughter Of one of the wealthiest
farmers in Dayonshire, was to join
hands, for the better or worse, with
young Adam Gray, Squire Grays only
son.
Adam had graduated at Cambridge
with fair honors, studied law with an
uncle, and then, practicing in London,
had established himself at Exeter.
One week, and he would claim his bride
the beautiful, idolized maiden, the
first and only love of his life, to whom
he had been solemnly betrothed ever
since the halcyon days Of childhood,
when the curly-headed boy and tender
eyed maiden first learned to conjugate
the verb Glove under an apple tree,
with the sun playing hide-and-seek
among the leaves, little robin-redbreasts
hopping from bough to bough, and add
ing another melody to the glorious
tune the young hearts We're rapidly
learning, was situation most likely to
result in ardent demonstration; but un-
like most early loves, it proved itself a
lasting sentiment, and both looked for
ward with the fondest anticipations to
the time when the great affair of their
lives should be consummated.
Constance was passionately fond of
her country home, and the thoughts Of
leaving it panied her more than she
cared to have them know; but her par
ents had promised to spend the greater
part of the Winters with her, and she
and Adam were always to pass their
Summers at the old home, SO the sepa-
ration would not be so very terrible
after all; but, strange to say, the maid
ems eyes were always ready to over
flow. In some mysterious manner,
Constance commenced to feel homesick
before leaving the parental roof
"If | didn't know how well you
loved Adam, my child, should think
you wanted to back out of this bust
ness" said Mr.. Pierrepoint, drawing
his daughter to his knees, and attempt
ing to look under the dropping lids.
Constance tried to smile, but broke
down completely.
81 am foolish, father, and don't pet
me any more. l wonder if every girl
feels so sadly at leaving her home
Sometimes l fancy it must be more
than that. Perhaps it is forboding of
evil. Coming events cast their shad-
ows BEFORE and this may be one of the
shadows"
Nonsense, Constance Never give
way to superstitous decisions. 1t would
be very strange if you were not
thoughtful, and even sad, in anticipa-
ton of this event. You are about to
take man, with all his failings-re-
member that, Constance, how many,
you can form no idea, because it is just
as true as you live that couple may
court hundred years, and yet not be-
come acquainted with the defects in
the secret springs that keep the strange
machinery moving. The watch always
looks bright and nice, ever apparently
in good running order-neither too
fast nor too slow; but you don't know
the tittivating that article undergoes
when it is out of your sight, in order
to keep it all right for the short time
it is in your company. Don't look so
vexed, Constance; it is no more than
you have done yourself. Counting is
deeeitful business, and it is, perhaps,
a wise thing that it is SO. There are
not too many marriages now, heaven
knows, and if the veil were always
torn aside before the ceremony, | fancy
there would be less. Adam never saw
you cry and pout because | thought
you had silk dresses enough without
the last expensive one you had set your
heart upon buying. You never heard
Adam swear at his tailor for misft,
or scold because a button was missing.
Oh, no |! AS long as you've been at it,
you don't know much more. in regard
to each others real nature than as if
one had been in London and the other
in New Zealand, and correspondent; yet
/ firmly believe Adam wants, needs,
and must have you for his wife. You'll
find he's got failings you have never
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