The Indianapolis journal., 1885-08-22


anu should think scorn of deliberately listening
to the VOWS of true lovers. But anybody who
was at all near by might have heard young
| Slmes's last words:
You know you are eighteen, Emmy, and no
one can force you to marry against your will
You are sure you won't give in"
And equally well anyone ght have heard her
answer:
81! | thought you knew me better than that"
That evening Jacob Riehing was quite pre-
| pared to receive his daughters dutiful submis-
sion. She was her own bright bonny self at
dinner. and he could hardly have been better
pleased with her if she had been her own
| brother. When dinner was over, and they We're
alone, the father said quietly: Il expect Mr.
Straiton about 81
You will kindly excuse me from seeing him,
papa"
"By no means. He is coming to see you; and
| expect you TO make it pleasant for him.
Il can hardly do that, papa l shall never
marry him
You will 20 out of my house if you don't
Itching said hotly. He had forgotten that his
daughter had his blood in her veins and
could be as resolute as himself
Il was quite prepared for that" she answered
| very quietly You know | am past eighteen
and free to please myself in marriage, though
would haze preferred to please you, also But
must marry the man whom love"
Lover
'rrhere was a quite indescribable scorn in Mr..
Richings tone as he uttered that sentimental,
| Objectionable word.
Yes papa. The very last charge my mother
| gave me, the night before she died, to marry
| for love, and for love only"
| 1t the very lip of Jacob Riching's
| tongue to say: Your mother failure,
! from first to last;' but something, he hardly
| knew what restrained HIM. He only asked,
| with sneer:
Have you then already found this beloved
object, that you are so unwilling to give the man
| of my choice an opportunity to speak for him
| sef!'
Yes papa: I am engaged to Mr. Thomas
| Simes jr.; and mean to marry him"
do the parents of Mr.. Thomas Shines, jr.,
know of this deectable engagement"
No! we thought it right to speak first to you"
"And since when, may l be allowed to ask,
have you been engaged"
''Since to-day at noon'
"Ah and the matter is quite settledW
Yes papa; and that you know [ must
marry him you will be kind to rs. won't you if
| it were only for my mothers sake"
Il am not father in dime novel," Mr. Rich
| ing said grimly. Il wish youno harm. Simply,
| if you carry out this plan | am done with You
| quite done Take till tomorrow night to
| think it over. | will send message TO postpone
| Mr.. Straiton's visit till then, and meantime you
| may come to your senses If | find you here
| when come home to morrow night shall take
| it for granted you mean to obey me. Other
wise, perhaps you will make other arrange
| monts."
The next morning Jacob Riching sent for the
| head book-keeper.
Shines, he asked, "do you know that my
| daughter is engaged to your son?"
| The utter amazement on Thomas Simess face
made answer even more strongly than his words:
"Certainy not"
so it is But am a just man, and since you
are evidently not to blame, and the thing has
| gone on without your knowledge, it shall make
no difference in our business relations. The girl
may come to her senses and give the whole thing
up; but if not, and they marry, l simply wish
| never to hear either of their names mentioned 10y
you while you remain in my employment You
understand me?'
"Perfectly. You.have the habit of being I'M
| derstood and oheyed, Mr.. Richng."
| When Jacob Kiching went home that night the
| dinnertabe was arranged for one only; but upon
his plate lay little note in his daughters hand
| writing-a note which said:
81 have made up my mind what to do |
! going to Mrs. Shines. You will have due notice
of my marriage but will trouble youno farther
until you send for me"
| The interview which came afterward with
! Mr.. StraitOn was not pleasant for Jacob Rich
| ing. Once moro he had been wOrsted in his
struggle to have his own way He told the
whole truth frankly. and the old-young man,
with that composure which was his strong point,
answered politely
| Il regret my disappointment, certainly.
but, as for yours might not the son n-law Of
| your daughters choice add your name to his
! own, and come into the firm as | would have
| done had been SO fortunate to please herl'
II think he WILL when | invite him" Jacob
| Riching answered.
| OF course the self -willed young people were
| married in few weeks and no doubt they re
| jolced III the days of their YOUTH but | really
am not disposed to trouble myself about them
any more than Papa Riching did Let them 90
on in their sef-wled way They were company
enough for each other. 1t was only Jacob
| Rching who was lonesome 1t in 1875 that
the mutineers married, and at that time
the great merchant was only hfty-six There
might still have been time perhaps, to outwit
fate by marriage, but former defeats had dis
ed he mar nd he hiSC Cii and
solitary way without further striving.
From time to time a question came TO him,
rather as a suggestion from outside than a
! thought originating IN his own mind, whether ne
had done quite right by Tom Shines, the father
He remembered how very necessary Shines had
been to the beginning OF his success. and won
dered whether such services were after ALL quite
repaid, even by a good salary; and would 1t not
have been fairer thing by Shines if he had
consented that the children should marry, and
taken Simes's son as his partner! But, for the
most part, Jacob RIching was able to turn a
deaf ear to this impertnent whisper from some
| where.
SO the years wento n. It is just possible that
for willful Emmy and her young husband time
galloped wtha but it moved heavily enough for
solitary Jacob Riching He had been thoroughly
beaten by fate. To found the house of ''Riching
& Son had been the dream of his boyhood the
ambition Of his young manhood, the strong pur
pose of his middle age, and again ard again had
stern death met him on the threshold of his de-
sires, and atlast love-the young foolish love OF a
girl and boy-had overthrown HIM utterly His
business grew and grew-and he pushed it on
vigorously, rather from habit than from any real
| interest His name would die with him, and he
could nor carry his fortune through the gates of
the grave.
have just come to the place where my
| story began The time is the 31st of December,
| 1888 and Jacob Riching, at sixty-four, feels
himself already old man. II E&s in the mel
ancholy company of his thoughts that we have
gone back to his boyhood, and then on through
! the advancing years that have at last left him
so old so solitary and so sad. 1t is as if he, who
had taken stock of so many things, were now
I taking stock of his own life. What indeed, was
the sum of these years of struggled He was
restless. He felt as if some change were before
him He though of his WIFE, dead so long ago
| l1nlnld Che he reachin1, ont 1naln INN d. arn.