The Rock Island Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1877-1885, 1881-08-25
MY NARROW ESCAPE.

| crisis in my life, the life of hitherto
INDUCED and perfectly happy girl; it
Yves no lee serious crisis than this
was or fancied myself to be in love,
and on the eve of separation from my
lover.
Young Arthur Elton. He was in re-
ality five years my senior, but for some
reason people always called him
''young," greatly to my annoyance;
for spirited girl, when she has made
up her mind to take a man for ''her
lord and MASTER" doesn't quite like to
see other people looking down on him
foolish boy.
1t wasn't Arthur's fault. He was of
that gentle, loving, yielding nature,
that other people invariably either
slight and s'put upon," or patronize
and caress. Very handsome, in some
what effeminate style; something of an
artist, poet, dreamer, and an enthusiast
in everything, the very latest of his
many enthusiasms being his love for
me.
Really, he was so earnest, so almost
desperate about it, that he quite took
my heart by storm. / had known him
all my life, but had never even thought
of being in love with him until a few
UdyS U6lOIG We V0ES Cu9dg6Qs
And just at that time he had become
sort of hero in our little country
world, by the choice he had made of a
career in life. He had been, in q de-
sultory sort of fashion, educated for
the Church; not that he had any special
| fitness for the calling, but because-an
old friend of his fathers being cler-
gyman-his ideas had CHANGED TO take
O turn in that direction. Now, he had
suddenly developed an ardent anxiety
for the heather, ana resolved to go to
India as missionary.
Now, Twas an enthusiast, too. When
he pleaded to me to accompany him,
to devote my life to him, among savage
tribes in far-off lands, / never paused
| to consider what o One-sided arrange
ment this would be, or how far from a
| bright or happy life was this he offered
| me. He pointed out to me the grand
| career for which Heaven had designed
| US. We should pass our lives in the
| service of God and our fellow-creatures,
| and mutually sustain each other on
| this narrow road which should lead so
many heathens to heaven.
So my Imagination caught fire, How
great, how infinitely more noble was
such fate than the quiet domestic
happiness of wife and mother, that
was the ordinary, commonplace wo-
| mans lott So we were engaged, and
| offered no objection to Arthur's ear
nest entreaty that should marry him
! at once, and-he was to sail in three
| weeks--go with him.
| But here the matter fortunately pass
| ed out of our control, and became sub
| ject to the consent of our families
| Need l say that it met with opposition
/ from the start.
Mother said she ''would sooner lay
me in the graver' In vain I talked
s'high and holy ends" and ''calls from
| Heaven" She declared that the high
| est and truest aim and end of wom-
| ans life was to do her duty in the sa-
cred sphere of home, and raise up
children in the love and fear of Heaven.
Arthur, on his side, had no better
| fortune. His father. having a large
| family, hadn't shilling to spare, and
the old clergyman, who was paying for
| his outfit to India, laughed in his face,
and asked him how he proposed to
| feed and clothe me when he got me
there? Feed me! Pretty language
from a minister. We were willing to
devote ourselves to the service of
Heavens savages, and nobody would
extend to us helping hand.
eff John were only here" l sighed;
for began to feel very much in ear
nest under all this opposition, and to
| feel that Arthur and l and the poor
heather were all martyrs together
'rJohn has got lots of money, and is so
| good-natured. I've almost mind to
write to him, Arthur, and ask him for
| the means to CO.
| L had been a long time making up
| NV mind fn cav this tn NV lnvor Gl1r,-
! posing that, as a matter of course, he
would shrink from taking me on such
terms, or being laid under such obliga-
tons to John Hayden. l expected to
see him shrink sensitively, and declare,
| with proper manly independence, that
| ] should not appeal to John. Nothing
of the kind.
s'Why not?'' he cried, quite eagerly.
Hayden has lots of money, as you
say, and it won't be giving it to you or
| to me, but to those unhappy heather.
| And f-as I used to suspect, Lizzie
| John wanted to marry you himself,
| what an opportunity are we giving him
| to exercise the virtue of self-sacriticer
! / don't know how l felt as l heard
| him. Startled at the GOODNESS of that
| last idea-thrilled at the very thought
! lit had never occurred to me) that dear
| O1C COLb IIe AtCil IitISt AAAtACN1
| and curiously disappointed in my lover.
| How could he SO contentedly consent
to my receiving money and service
from another mans hands-especially
when the chief benefit of such service
was to accrue to himself in the end?
But 1 kept my disappointment, it was
but vague and misunderstood, locked
in my own heart. 1t was TOO late now
for there to be any possibility OF my
accompanying Arthur. but | agreed to
write to John, and-if he would give
me the means-folIow the fortunes of
my lover.
So Arthur departed for London. Our
plan was for me to join him there, and
be married before sailing for India to-
gether. babe him goodbye, weeping
very. decorously, but secretly feeling
much surprised that did not feel more
real grief of heart. Then went home
anu wrote the whole story to John.
/ had begged him to answer at once,
as there was no time to spare, but the
| day which should have brought me a
letter brought me disappointment only.
| Not very bitter disappointment, either.
| took myself to task for that.
John is not SO foolish as to help you
in such mad follyr' my mother had
said, triumphantly when no letter came.
/ made no reply but strolled off into
the woods close at hand TO think it
over.