The Redwood gazette. [volume] (Redwood Falls, Minn.) 1873-1940, 1880-09-16

delayed, that no question of marriage
had arisen yet; and she hurried her
daughter from one scene of gayety to
another, spared herself fnery (Which
was not SO hard, since she was yet in
deep black), in order to buy Phema
all sorts of adornment. Her own jew
els she had reset for her and her
personal wardrobe was lavishly sup
piled.
But none of these things beguilod
Phema- She went everywhere and saw
everybody; drank so deeply of admi-
ration and flattery that the monotony
and insincerity of the draughts at last
disguised her; but her mother was in
exorable. She had one crushing blew
in reserve, that must succeed, she
thought. Surely, when Phema knew
she was entirely penniless, she would
not dare marry poor man! So, just
before they went to Newport, earlier
this year than last, Mrs. Bayard told
Euphemia all about her affairs, with a
pungcnt distinctness that left no room
for mistake or palliation. A cold hand
seemed for moment to clutch poor
Phema's heart. She turned pale, but
her eyes flashed. The Bayard blood
came to the rescue, and she gave no
other sign of emotion. Her voice was
hard and ringing, as she asked:
But what did you think would have
become of me, mamma, in case of your
death?"
81 expected and still expect. Eu-
phemia, that you will marry WE'LL"
"Sell myselfr' retorted the girl.
''Don be coarse, my dear. A girl
owes something to herself who has been
brous ht up as you have BEEN"
Euphemia said no more. She set her
red lips tight, to shut in the torrent of
disgust and dismay that threatened to
pour itself on her mothers head, and
locked herself into her room, to think
it out and write to Stephen.
She faced the question of her life
courageously. Had she the power to
accept such q situation and endure it?
Could she be poor calmly and happily?
or would the absence of those long
appliances of comfort and luxury weak
make both her and Stephen wretched
when their love should be time-worn?
She blushed to think so meanly of her.
self. Her courage rose at>the sight of
difficulties. She sat down at once and
wrote a calm letter to her lover, stating
the new aspect of affairs az curly as
possible, without an expression of opin-
ion or feeling on her own part, or even
limiting at any possible suspension of
their engagement.
II will not insult him." she said to
herself, as she closed the envelope and
rose to take it to the letter-box; and a
warm flush lit her face at the thought.
She could trust Stephen. she knew.
And Stephen read all between the
lines of that letter, that Phema thought.
His answer was immediate, and he
brought it himself.
liam so glad!' were his first audi
bile words. "You have relieved the
only dread had, my darling. I did
not want yoa to have what l could not
give you. want to take care of my
wife, Phema, and not have her help
me-"
Mrs. Bayard was disguised, hopeless
ly, with this state of things. Her sell
fish soul neither thought nor cared what
Stephen and Euphemia must think of
her heartless provision for herself alone.
She left Newport in rage, and went to
the White Mountains; though, first, she
consented, with an i'll grace, to be pres
ent at a verv early wedding. The little
world of Newport were astonished at
this unexpected event, and held up
their hands with horror when they
heard the happy man was only poor
lawyer.
"Just Phema Bayard's wayv' said
Mrs Sluyter.
But did Phema and Stephen carep No
more than a pair of robins whose nest
is ready for them. Phema found poverty
not so dreadful as its shadow. She ac-
cepted the situation fully and cheerfullv,
wore her old tinery on Sundays with
good grace, and came down to calico
and alpaca on weekdays with hearty
goodwill. She electrified Stephen
by her skill at cooking and sung
about the house at her work all
day long. 1t is true that troubles
came; but they were the small
stings of life, and she learned to treat
them with comparative Indifference.
Her little house was bright. sunny, and
exquisitely neat. Itlooked like verit-
able dolls house to Aunt Allen whose
horsehair furniture and stif-backed
chairs, set about her ample rooms adj
mitted no modern amenities of gay
color or graceful drapery; but Stephen
thought his home perfection.
"Think of itr' moaned Mrs. Bayard
to a sympathetic friend. "Phema
actually does the cooking and the
sweeping and the dusting! l never
heard anything so dreadful! Marian
Symmes has just been there to see her,
and told me all about. Poor Phema!
But she always would have her way!''
And Marian Symmes, sitting on the
piazza outside the window where this
plant was made, laughed at the recollec-
ton of the home she had just left;
home so overtlowing with peace and
love and friendliness to all about it that
she thought it might be best for some
other people to follow Phema's way. -
Rose Terry Cooke, in N. Y Independent.