The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1878-03-27
Mr.. BEAMAN'S MISTAKE.
An Old Fashioned Story.

Ii was the close OF the afternoon service in
the village church of Byfeld. The last
notes of the doxology were still echolng
from the singing gallery, and the congrega-
ton with rustic and a stir, turned their
faces toward the minister for the benedic-
ton In the brief pause before 1t was
spoken old Mr.. Beaman, the town clerk Of
Byfield, stepped in front of the pulpit, and,
raising his hand, said in loud, clear voice,
"Know all it may concern, that Mark Boyn-
ton, of this town, and Elizabeth Heath, Of
the same, intend marriage"
There was movement through the whole
congregation as if 1T were pervaded by an
electric shock, and looks of surprise passed
from eye to eye. But there were three per-
sons present on whom the clerks announce
ment fell like q thunderbolt. One of these
was young girl with pale face and down
cast eye. When Mr.. Besman began TO speak
she listened with a kind of patient COM
posure; but as the names were announced
a wild, startled look came into her eyes, she
sank back upon her seat and buried her row
burning face in her hands.
Not many slips removed stood q man Of
perhaps forty-a grave and sober person,
with hair slightly turning to gray. His face,
habitually a somewhat sad one, had worn
throughout the service that day a look of
cheerful content; but as Mr.. Beaman made
his announcement it took on the paleness of
death. His head dropped upon his breast,
and he stood like one paralyZed, clasping
the railing of the pew for support.
Very different was the effect produced upon
young man, the solitary occupant of pew
not far away. He had been standing with
dropping head and downcast. heavy look;
but as he heard the words of the old clerk be
startled visibly, the blood mounted in a
crimson flush to his forehead, while his eyes
flashed with look blended of triumph and
defiance aud the lips closed with an express
sion of stern resolve.
There was a painful hush over all the
house, as If every one present were strange
ly moved to sympathy with one or another
of those so deeply and variously greeted by
what had been said. 1t was broken by the
voice of the minister saying solemnly, land
now may grace, mercy and peace, the love of
God. and the communion OF His Holy Spirit,
be and abide with you all for ever. AmeH."
And the people moved silently out of the
church.
The pale and stricken man on whom the
old clerks most unexpected words had fall
en- so like the stroke of doom was Robert
Jocelyn. He had listened that day to hear
his own name coupled with that OF the love-
ly girl who had promised to be his wife, and
the voice of the clerk had joined with hers
that of another and younger mani To IN
derstand the full force of the blow which
had fallen on him, it is necessary to go back
at a time, nearly twenty years before, when
as a youth he had won the love of his pretty
and gentle cousin Phoebe Jocelyn. Phoebe
was the loveliest girl in all the country
round, and had admirers by the score, but
Bobert Jocelyn was the choice of her heart,
and to him she was tenderly attached. But
though capable of loving with devotion,
Door Phoebe was weak-willed and timid and
quite powerless to resist resolute and DOM
ineeriDg mother, who had chosen a very diff
ferent person to be her daughters
husband. William Heath had more money
than Robert, and was snowy, plausible
fellow, IN whom the ambitious mother
fancied she saw a more brilliant match for
her daughter. She piled the yielding girl
with arguments, reproaches and appeals to
filial duty till she was quite bewildered;
and almost before she was aware of it she
had given up her cousin and was plighted
to William Heath. Her married life was
fortunately brief, for she knew no happiness
in the three weary years she lived with her
husband. At the end OF that time he left
her in poverty, and no one in Byfield ever
saw him again. Poor Phoebe, sinking under
the pressure of grief, neglect and privatiOn,
lived but few months after his desertiOn
During that time she was tenderly cared for
by her cousin Robert, who supplied all the
wants of her and her infant daughter, and
found for them a serene asylum under the
roof of his brother Ezra and his wife. This
KIND couple had no children, and when her
mother was gone the little Lizzie was adopt
ed by them as their own.
Robert Jocelyn had never married. He
lived on. sad and silent man, old before
his time, but he had no heart to offer to
another woman. He had loved Phoebe so
unselishiy that he could have borne to
lose her if she had been happy; but TO have
her taken from HIM to suffer neglect and
cruelty was hard indeed. 1t was with
solemn thankfulness that he saw the sod
laid over her faded beauty and broken
heart.
Years passed, and Phebe's daughter was
a charming, bright eyed girl OF eighteen.
Under the fostering care of Ezra and his
wife she had grown up cheerful and happy,
LOVING and dutful, a favorite with all.
Like her mother she had many admirers;
but il could not be positively determined
that she favored any. Still. there were
shrevd suspicious, and more than one
young fellow would have been glad to
stand in Mark Boynton's place, and would
have felt rich indeed with but a portion OF
the smiles which shone on that fortunate
youth.
Mark was neighbor of the Jocelyns He
had inherited from his father fine, well
stocked farm; out unfortunately there had
been discovered flaw In his title; and ever
since his majorlty he had been involved in a
firesome lawsuit which it was now generally
believed would 60 against him. Should 1t
SO result he would be poor man, IL young
man with strong land and courageous
heart can be poor. With all the strength OF
an earnest and manly nature Marx loved
Lizzie Heath; but his pride withheld him