The Canton mail. [volume] (Canton, Miss.) 18??-1882, 1876-05-13

with me, have held himself bound Blu
that l would not permit. My uncle
life was not in danger, and l would no
let Arnold waste the best years of hi
manhood, without wife or home So w,
babe each other farewell. and few
months later 1 heard that my lover hac
joined party of men going to Austria
liza.
And have you never heard of hin
since?"
Never. My uncle lived six years
When 1 was most desolate, after hi,
death, i found you. You have been my
comfort for eight long years; but dc
not mean to tie your young life down te
mine. When 1 die, hope to leave you
happy in your own home. Stephen
knows this, dear"
Majorie," 1 whispered, " did Arnold
Halcombe marry?"
az never knew, dear"
But you-do you still love him %
Yes, dear, shall love him while !
livew
She told me no more then of her heart
history, but talked of Stephen, of our
love, of her entire sympathy in our
future. think she must have written
to him, for in the evening he came again,
and we were betrothed.
knew that Stephen must return to
his business in few days, but he prom
ised to return in months time.
Marjorie gave MIN 4 cordial invitation
to be our guest. But when Marjorie
left us alone for the condolences lovers
exchange, 1 plunged at once into the
subject that had been in my mind all
day.
Stephen" 1 said, "tell me again
about your Cousins offer.'
"Why, do you want to go to Austria
lia?" he cried, in amazement.
No, but want to know something
about your cousin"
There is but little to tell. When 1
was mere boy he went to Australia, a
poor man. He invested a very small
capital in sheep, hiring his farm. By
degrees he increased his stock, bought
the farm, and became an enormously
wealthy man. About six months ago he
came to London, intending to remain
here. But he wishes still to retain some
of his Australian possessions, and is look
ing for an agent, to whom he offers far
greater advantages than those he enioyed
himself. When he first proposed to me
to go, l thought, as 1 think now, that 1
preferred to pursue the BUSINESS have
here, and grow rich slowly, than to exile
myself perhaps for years. But had you
persisted in what you said this morning,
think tomorrow should have accepted
my cousins Offer"
els your cousin married ?"
"No, indeed! And yet he is as free from
bachelor eccentricities as 1 am. He had
some disappointment in his youth, and
it never seured or embittered him. He
is a splendid fellow, one of the hand
soonest men ever saw, and as noble as
he is fne-looking. But why are you in
terested about him?"
az will tell you when you come again.
In the meantime, will you use your in
fuence to persuade him to come with
you p
"Here?"
Yes, here, Bring him with you.
Make any excuse you like, only bring
him!''
But 1 do not understand" began |
Stephen.
"Never mind. I have promised to
tell you then"
will bring him, if he will come"
1 was sure he would come! 1t was
hard to carry a secret hidden from Mar
jorie's loving eyes for an entire month;
but, fortunately, we were soon engrossed
in wedding preparations-for Marjorie,
remembering her own broken love-
dream, had consented and won my con-
sent to Stephens wish to be married in
January.
So we spent the late October and early
November days in stitching busily upon
the fnery that every bride wishes to
take to her new home. And as our
needles flew i'll an out upon the dainty
work we reserved from that in hired
hands, Marjorie told me more of her
own youthful life, revealing unconscious
ly how purely unselfish she had ever
been, how her whole life had gradually
led upward to the noble self.sacrifce that
left her at thirty-three still single.
When the day came, all my nervous
anxiety about our preparations was at
tributed to my desire to have Stephen
pleased; but, strange as it may seem,
was not thinking of Stephen. He was
to come on the train due at half past
eleven, and the carriage was sent to the
station to meet him.
was dressed early, and fused about
Marjorie till even her quiet gentleness
was reused to opposition.
Why, child, it is absurd" she said,
as l. dragged my favorite of all her
dresses from the wardrobe. az shall
look like a goose in that in the morn
ingw
"But we will have no chance to dress
again." 1 urged, and this is so becom-
ing"
had pulled her hair down, and was
twining the magnificent raven lengths
into the most becoming couture my skill
could compass. In the glossy braids
twisted a half wreath of fine leaves with
the scarlet blossoms 1 had taken from
the conservatory. The dress Marjorie
would not wear, but she chose heavy
black silk, with trimmings of thread
lace, and let me put scarlet bow upon
the fine lace at the throat, and coral ear
rings in the small, white ears.
AZ look like famingo!;' she pro-