The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1879-04-09
result was highly satisfactory. aHighly


satisfactory" he repeated TO himself. a.
he passed the entrance to the cross-road
which led to Miss Olives. Somehow his
Ienectlons were less cheerful after that.
ferhaps the chilly rain-storm just setting
~ depressed him, or perhaps it was the
empty nearse thai he met face to face
1or the best of US have our superstitions.
Certaln 1t is that, as he alighted from his
buggy that evening, with WEAKNESS of
limo and limpness of Ellnen, his counte.
nance led!Mrs.i Dubbs to fear thelmeetinqs
had not been profitable.
Next morning, thanks to the unpraci.
Gus weather, he was aroused bv sciatic
fortunes. To an elderly gentleman. new
iy-betrothed to blooming lady greatly
ms junior. such an awakening was pecu-
liarly trying. He thought ruefully of the
early visit he had promised Mrs. Vance.
Should the pains increase, he must defer
1t indefinitely, or limp into her presence
on crutches-an alternative too SUCCESS
tive OF advancing Iage. Flattered as he
was oy the widows acceptance, be could
not deny that it placed him in a position
In some respects irksome. It admon.
lshed him that he had no further right
to lnhrmities; that henceforth it was his
bounden duty to be as young as he could.
Inc reflection wearied him; the clutch
ing pain wearied him. Mrs. Dubbs after
ward said she had never seen him an
nearly out of sorts as on that evening
when she took in his mail. Among the
letters was one that caught his eve at
once:
"Dear Friend" Gt ran)--"Mv moor
urea father Is at rest. He was seized
with paralysis the morning after YOU lief.
US, and passed away painlessly in few
hours. How little I anticipated this
event when we talked together! Nv hands
were full then; now they are very empty.
MY work here is done. If you still be-
heVe could make happy the kind friend
who has always been our benefactor, I
should be glad to see you. Yours, sin
cerely. OLIVE WAyNr
Mr. Phoenix read this missive. reread it.
shut 1t into the book of JOB safe from
pryiDg Mrs. Dubbs, and drummed uneasi-
~ on the closed Bible. What a predica-
meat! Must he thrust back upon Olive
this gift for which he had so lately suede
Must he thus humble herr He wrilhed at
the thought. Must he thus humble him
self? Bitterer than all, must he relinouish
this tried friend of a lifetime? HAVING
reached LIES autumn, must he reject
LIES mature and appropriate fruits for
the rhubarb and greens of spriny-time2
Alas yes: he must fulfill his ensseement.
for was he not an honorable man?" He
would write at once to Olive a candid
statement of the case.
But while he idled at his desk on the
morrow, Mr.. Torrey came to ask the loan
OF horse till his own should be in running
order, and the deacon laid down bis pen
with sigh of relief.
Feeling that he ought to tell his BROTH
er-in-law of his contemplated marriage,
at dinner he led the conversation back to
the conference and Mrs. Vance.
'By-the-way, I met the widow this
morning riding with John Vance," re-
marked Mr. Torrev, casually. "Y GU re-
member him-the brother next to
Charles? Hes just come from Califor-
MIA, with his pockets full"
''Ah?"
Eyes. Shouldn't wonder if be took The
widow. Some say they're engaged al
ready"
OF course the deac N knew better
than that, nevertheless he delayed his
tender confession. And he did not write
the letter. Time enough for that after he
had paid Mrs. Vance tae promised visit.
The latter lady had certainly the first
claim upon his attentions.
Unfortunately several days of torment
ing paiH ensued, during which the dea-
cons patience was put to pretty severe
test; but he was at last able to seek the
object of his hasty choice. He found her,
In her dooryard, playing croquet with q
tall, well-dressed gentleman.
$50 happy to see you, Deacon Phe-
nix" cried she, with voluble embarrass.
ment, land so glad to introduce Mr..
Vance. dear Charles brother. Do come
in"
II hope my tardy coming does not
seem discourteous, Mrs Vance, " said he,
in afable formality, while the stranger
fastened to suddenly-recallede engage
ment. II have not''--
"No-oh no." broke in the widow, ner-
vously.
Il have not been we'll. Otherwise, un-
der our present interesting relations
"Oh, Mr.. Phenix" interrupted she,
throwing herself upon cricket at his
feet. "Do you know, am so afraid
am not the one to make you happy7 And
my friends say the discrepancy in our
ages is too great. Ought I to marry
against their wishes2'
"You must decide that question, dear
madam" responded the deacon, with
suppressed eagerness. The finger Of
Providence was in this. He held his
breath to make sure which way it point
ed.
"Then if you don't mind very much,
Deacon Phoenix, perhaps it aoould be bet
ter for US to part as friends. Oh, dear! I
hope you'll forgive me if I've done any
thing wrong"
The deacon hardly heard the closing
sentence for the glad beating of his
heart. my dear child, you have done
quite right; do not reproach you." said
he, with a smile Of infinite benevolence.
ut is natural that youth should choose to
wed with youth"
"And that age should wed with age"
he added, mentally. as, with an adleu
almost paternal, he drove away in the di-
rection of Miss Olives.
He and Miss Wayne we're married the