The Eaton Democrat. (Eaton, Ohio) 1875-1903, 1875-10-21

sure, even II L naQ done as that dear anX-
ious old Fred wanted me to do. But,
really, to go away with the old trunks
and shabby clothes No. I could not.
While Fred went to get the tickets
u tickets-I saw the luggage. We were
going to town. What better place for a
winter honeymoon And We meant to
see a good deal-mooning about with
eyes, mouth, and ears open, like typical
country cousins.
Joseph, properest of coachmen, gave
me an affectionate farewell. I don't
mean, of course, that he embraced me ;
and seeing the train that was to bear us
away rapidly nearing, he ficked Tommy,
old horse, on the right flank, as a gentle
look smart. With a great deal of ex-
ceedingly unpleasant and, as I think,
unnecessary noise, the train came slow
ly in, grooming as in pain.
The next thing was to secure a coupe
to ourselves-at least, Fred seemed to
think so. After the passing of sundry
small coin, and having run the gauntlet
of the inquisitive, surly, amused, and in
different among the passengers, we sue
ceeded and found ourselves comforta-
bly, ensconced with all our small traps
about us. And when the train moved
of, and my darling's hand cam feeling
softly for my waist, and then stole low
ingly around it, I forgot to be scandal
lied (why, indeed, should I have been y
and laid my nose on the shoulder of his
shaggy Ulster, and felt as de-
lghttully happy and as deliciously
frightened as any silly little bride of a
few hours could be.
"Swindoml Swindom! Stop here
five minutes"
1 was far too comfortable to care to get
out. Besides, Fred said he would bring
we something from the refreshment-
rooms. He would insist on my having
some sherry to keep the cold out. The
five minutes delay exacted by the con-
tract of the vendor of vile commodities
had nearly expired. I had put my lips
to the sherry, which Fred finished, to
get the sweetness, as the silly fellow
said, which my lips had left in the
glass. He had restored the article to its
proper place and owner, and was step
ping into the carriage, when he sudden
ly turned, exclaiming-
"Py Jove, I've left my"
The words were lost in the din. 1 saw
the baize-covered door swing on him as
he passed through into the refreshment-
room. I looked eagerly after him for
I hated his being out of my sight a mo-
ment. Would he never Gomez
A station bell rang violently. Several
guards and porters shouted, "Any more
going on2" The engine shrieked and
moved. I started up, helpless almost,
by reason of the rugs so carefully folded
round me. Ipushed past the passengers
in the other coupe in the most uncere-
monious ANN I put my head out of
the window. We were moving swiftly
away now. The last advertisement
board had vanished behind us, and all l
saw was my darling Fred, now far away
in the distance, frantically ~gesticulating
in the midst of a knot of porters, and, I
am afraid, swearing terribly. My fellow
passengers tried to console me, but I
turned a deaf and ~ungrateful ear to their
consultations, and got back to my corner,
pulled to the coupe door, and burying
my head in the blue window curtain, ut
terry regardless of my new bonnet, cried
copiously in my misery.
What was I to do2 Should I go to
Paddington, and wait Fred's arrival at
the hotel we had fixed upon2 I could
not. How could I meet the walters and
chamber-maids, a bride without a bride
groom2 Should 1 wait at the Padding
ton terminus Should I get out at the
, next station, and take the first down.
train back to Swindom? Should II
, Oh, what should I do, with all the lug.
gage looking SO terribly new and fresh
and myself, in my smart, new things, an
unmistakable case of bride2 And by
this time my gloves were quite spoiled
by the tears that were flowing recklessly
and literally down my woe-begone
cheeks.
What would Fred do2 If he welt tc
t telegraph to the hotel to meet me on my
supposed arrival, what would the people
at the hotel think? But perhaps he
would send a message to Didcot to catcl
? me there. This possibility cheered mt
considerably. So I dried my tears
| smoothed my disordered hair, pitched
my bonnet into its pristine shape, blew
my nose, and sat bolt upright in readi
ness for Didcot ; for by this time W,
, were visibly slackening speed. 1 lie
, down the windows for two reasons il
hopes that the fresh air would blow
away the traces of my tears ; and in or
der to be perfectly prepared to Jump GU
ON the welcome platform, which I fel
8 sure would restore my husband to me
Before the train had come to a stand
still, 1 had beckoned a porter to me, AM
as he ran along the still moving train,
: managed to gasp out, In a voice indis
: tinct with excitement
: elias a telegram come for me?"
;, The man looked aghast.
> "Has a telegram come for me2" / re
. peated, impatiently.
! "What name, miss?"
= To be called "miss," tool Before
however, 1 could answer him, I heard
9 : loud voice, a few carriages from mine
asking:
sis there any lady named Douglas2
le L could hardly restrain myself fror
bursting out of the carriage. He cam
d nearer, asking as he came. I leaned out
and, as the man stood opposite me, a
i. most snatched what 1 rightly guessed t
be a telegram, out of his hands.
d "Yesl" 1 answered explaining, "m
le name is Douglas. Openthe door, pleas,
" and take out my things"
70 Little fool that I wasl Why did 1 NJ
IS carefully read the telegram frst2 I onl
v. glanced at the commencement of IL
)" message: "Am coming by neat train.
he When all my things were taken out
the carriage (as for the heavy luggage,
W forgot that entirely, when the train ha
k begun to move-in fact, when it was to
late-I read the remainder of the tel
gram, which read thus: " Wait for ~
,e at Paddington."
n 1t was only the presence of numerol
le passengers and porters on the platfor
that prevented me, there and then, fro,
X bursting into tears. I restrained mysel
id and the bitterness was the more bite
r: What was to be done? When did Il
Is next train pass through Didcot2
" about an hour. OF course it stopped
"No, that's the fast train through-on
y