The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1880-07-17
HER WEDDING DRESS.

"STITCH, stitch, stitch, band and gus
set and seam!-But what in the world
shall | do for wedding dress?n cried
Laura, suddenly. looking up from her
sewing with face of amused trouble at
the other two.
Aunt Desire raised her eyes from her
needle. "Be thankful enough for your
weddin', child" she said, solemnly.
'I'veknown girls as''-but here a glance
OF appeal from two soft eyes opposite
sent her back to her tucks with her SEN
tence unfinished.
"Thankful for my wedding, indeedl''
saucily returned unobservant Laura.
"Not I! l leave the thankfulness to
Arthur altogether, Aunt Desire"
"The lightheadedness of young girls
nowadays is amazin'," sighed Aunt De-
sire. "'Twan't so in my time. Well,
well, Laury, maybe when you're settled
and got a young family round you-''
Laura made up her ruffling into ball,
and, throwing it at Aunt Desire, beat a
precipitate retreat Margaret followed
her out.
"Come to my room, DEAR" she said.
~ want to show you something"
Upstairs in her chamber Margaret led
the way to a tall old cabinet-bureau, and
taking out key from her bosom, I'M
locked the deep drawer. On her knees
there, her lips moving, she looked,
Laura thought, almost as if she were
praying. ,y
Out of the cavernous recesses of this
lower drawer she took a flat, square
package, wrapped in folds of yellowish
paper. From this dull envelope, like a
butterfly from its chrysalis, came a flutter
of white that made kind of moonlight
glimmer in the warm daylight of the
window, as the folds of shining, undu-
lating silk slipped over her arm. Laura
gave q little scream of admiration.
81 never saw any thing so perfectly
lovely. never! Why, Cynthia Wilson's
was cotton rag to it. You never got
that here?'-she checked herself, and
looked doubtfully at Margaret, whose
fingers were stroking it softly, with
something of that reverent tenderness
with which one touches a garment of
the dear dead.
"No," she answered, absently, ''it
came from far, far away" She looked
up, and met her sisters eyes, when the
past yielded to the present. "You
know, Laura" she said, quietly, "I was
to have been married once, at Just about
your age, too. He was a sailor, he was
drowned"
Laura clasped her hands on her sis
ter's shoulder, and the tears came into
her eyes. She wondered at Margaret's
calmness. To the quick gitlish heart
on the eve of marriage-day, this
trouble seemed utterly impossible to be
lived through.
"The last time he came home,n con-
tinued Margaret, after awhile, she
brought me this. l shall never need it
now, you know" she half smiled, "and
you do"
"What!" interrupted Laura, "I rob
you of the last thing he ever gave you,
your own wedding dress, too! Why, /
would rather stand up to be married in
white cotton at ninepence yard" she
ended, after her own fashion finishing
with smile what she had begun with a
sigh.
:" You need not feel like that about it,
DEAR" said Margaret, fondly. SIT is
what l have meant all along, so it will
give me no pain to see you wear it.
only wish you may be as happy in it as
l once hoped to be-" M
q" 4 wish | might be half as good!'
cried Laura, the tears in her impulsive
eyes again. But they were not from q
very deep spring. Before long this new
old treasure, so OPPORTUNITY sent, as il
seemed, from over the seas to her, had
become more part of her own life-story
than of her sisters, who, she thought,
could not now care so very much, Of
course, or she would not have parted
with it. Nor were Aunt Desires an
swers by-and-by calculated to set her
right, for the romance in Aunt Desire IS
nature was hidden under a most unro.
mantle semblance, and she could not
have talked sentiment to save her life
so 1t was in the most matter-of-fact way
that she related the story, of which
Laura's thoughtless girlhood had only
the vaguest outlines, of the life of patient
toll that went down suddenly without 9
parting word to love. and hope, half 9
dozen years before. t-A
"Oh, poor Margaret" cried Laura
Sand just before her wedding day, too
What did she doP'
"Do!" shifted Aunt Desire, "why
just that, kept dom, right along. She''
found work enough to her hand, as folk
mostly do if they'll only take notice
Why, where'd you hev ben yourself
child, eff it hadn't ben for her bringin'
up? a peeked little cretur I nevel
thought to be maxim her weddin'
things for! And now you're your sistel
right over again-on the outside, at am
rate"
"Now, if you're going to be impolite
Aunt Desire" cried Laura, rising will
a flushed face at the sound of footstel
outside, 81 shall go and complain t
Arthur"
"And of course he'll take your part