The new Northwest. [volume] (Portland, Or.) 1871-1887, 1872-04-05

nave u IRE. sue eAcAaiuleu, SnlVerln2
in every nerve. my very marrow is be-
coming frozen"
Soon the large sheet iron stove was
aglow with a ruddy heat, and Ellen
crouched behind it on the dingy carpet.
warming her benumbed feet and fingers.
while her cheeks tingled with the rapid
rush of blood to her nearly frozen face.
Her affianced husband gave his horse
in charge of groom, and entering, sat
down opposite the timid, shrinking form
of the ehild-woman, whom it seemed
that the very fates and furies had en-
trusted to his keeping; and sitting there,
cloud of momentary humiliation
passed over his face, as though he felt
that he was taking advantage of that
young creatures helplessness i'm thus
claiming her as his own.
30, Peter Dowd, my fathers cousin y
said Ellen, pleadingly, ~ entreat you
to go back to my grandfather. You
have done great and manly and noble
deed in thus rescuing me from a fate I
loathed and dreaded, and now beg that
you viii go and leave me-"
''Is this the way you keep your con-
tracts, Ellen Dowd? ?" and he leaned for
ward and gazed long and earnestly into
her eyes. ~ have sent for magis-
trate, and we are to be married at nine
o'clock. Are you willing to revoke your
VOW, stultify yourself and make a vii
lage laughing-stock of the man whom
you have promised to love, honor and
obey?"
God help me-" said the frightened
child. ~ know not what to do"
Il know very well what you will do,
my charming little one, /" was the mean
ingly smiling answer, as Peter Dowd
drew near to her and began chatting her
half frozen hands. "You'll be my own
sweet little wife, and Well work together
all through life as an honest, loving
couple ought to do"
"But 1 do not love you, Peter Dowd.
Please let us postpone this marriage. II
can teach music, cook, do chamberwork,
wash, make butter, or do anything else
that offers. You can find a situation
somewhere, and we can get married in /
a few years. Let's not be too hasty. |
that if we once get married
there is no undoing our error then"
"Phat, my dear, is the very reason
why 1 insist upon the marriage now. 1
know very well that if it is postponed
Did Killingsworth will get you, and
hen, Of course, we'll never marry at
Ill"
THAT grinning old ghoul- l-ugh!-that
settles it! Pm ready for the sacrifice.
pll become your wife this minute, Peter
Dowd."
''Oh, you needn't be in a hurry, dar-
ing" leaning forward and giving her a
-ervent kiss. awe are not to be married |
ill nine o'clock"
iThen, Peter Dowd, have one request
10 make of you. For two hours longer
am to have the privilege of belonging !
to myself. want to be left alone dur
ing that time. viii you leave me till
the magistrate comes?"
''But have ordered breakfast, Ellen. |
We shall want food, you know"
'Peter Dowd, 1 declare to you that
food will choke me. Think you that 1
will waste the last precious hours Of my
freedom by eating breakfast ?
Leave me this instant, and do not come
into my presence again before the clock
strikes the fatal hour of nine. If you do
I will not marry you"
The groom elect reluctantly obeyed.
Once alone in the apartment, Ellen
Dowd began pacing hurriedly up and
down the floor, with her hands tightly
clasped over her burning face. Thoughts
of her sisters; Of her parents whom she
had never seen; of her well remembered
cabin home; of her aged grandparents
in their grief and coming poverty; Of
good Mrs. Harris; then of her months
and years of study; of Mrs. Brandon and
the gipseys; and again of the dwarfed,
deformed old man, who had lain such
deep schemes to possess her and the
darcy estate, chased each other through
her dizzy brain.
''Fhere is some strange and awful fate
hanging over me-" she said. 'Tim sure
Of that. Why are women so helpless?
Who would think of compelling a boy
TO marry against his will at seventeen?
Who would think of compelling a man
to marry, allyhO1O9 But women, upon
whom must always fall the heaviest
burdens of the married state, are left
with no freedom of will-no chance to
control their own destiny. Oh, if only
were a man. o, sister Sarah. o, my
mother dearl o, destiny! o, fate I!
whittier am whirling?" she said aloud.
Then, dropping on her knees, she raised
her hands to Heaven, and an invocation
for light, for wisdom, strength, submits
sion, endurance, fioated up in low, meas
ured cadences from her throat and lips,
and reached the ear of the great Infin-
ite.
AT will not insult Thee, Almighty
Father, by asking Thee for happiness.
[ only pray for strength sufficient for
my day."
Arising from her knees, the poor child
reclined in large easy chair, and with
her eyes closed, sat mOtiOnless for full
hour, thinking, thinking, thinking.
Again the wierd old gipsey, whose
mysterious visit at her first and only
party had so seriously disturbed her,