The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1885-03-28

EiSht 70 MARRY hlHs: you uon care penny lor
him. He is good fellow. He deserves better
things"
'Epity him.
'Pityp said Miss Martha 81 suppose your
letters are full of pity-the letters that through
the arch see you writing in here every night
sThey are very calm and friendly letters. |
tell him my surroundings and happenings; l
discuss the news of the day; II
"Are his letters calm and friendlyT
II wish they were. They are great deal too
fervent'
"And when DO you expect to make this
precious marriagel'
at is precious to me Miss Martha, whatever
you may think 1t is all have Hook forward to,
little as it is. Some time in the fall, suppose.
don't let myself dwell upon it, though. You will
think me very inconsistent and contradictory
but, butt just little dread it,
"Of course you do. Anybody would dread
marry man she didn't love-"
Il do love him. / love him very much. /
hurt him in any way. He is often comfort to
me to think of among all the gay people who care
nothing at all about me. Then l think of him,
and keep my thoughts to myself, and then
almost love him as l should love the ideal l used
to cherish"
HIM said Miss Martha.
81 don't suppose it makes any difference really,
in the long run. After the season OF romance is
over, you love one sort of husband perhaps as
well as another. 1 shall probably love John as
ideal"
well, / must say you are the coolest speci-
mem" said Miss Martha; and indignation in
Johns behalf refused her further words strong
enough for expression.
But when Miss Martha dropped hints of the
matter in the family circle, those who had not
heard the cool calmness of Miss Emeline's state
ments failed to see 1T in the same hight as their
querulous and invalid aunt did, and felt that
they had a sort of drama going on among them.
fQa caH fho hop Of fahn hapI
them up to her under trays of flowers, made a
great matter of the mails construed her re-
marks, as translated through Miss Martha's
alembic, only into modest maideniness at last
talked openly upon the subject, begged her to
send for John to pass some days with them,
threatened to 60 and bring him, cut advertise
ments from the papers of pretty suburban
Places and Mr.. Hollingsworth promised her a
COW, and his wife promised pecks of garden
seeds, and Martha was to embroder her a
portere for the little parlor that was to be, and
Teresa thought she might frame some of her
water-coors for the walls, and they even began to
talk with her about wedding clothes. Il will
give you the prettest wedding in the world if
you are married here" said Mrs. Hollingsworth.
'.And she will be perfectly lovely bride, all
in drifting wells and lace" said Teresa.
TT would be folly" said the serious Miss
Emelne. Il should never wear the dress again
and pretty brown silk, or olive green or gray,
and bonnet would be best"
II don't suppose John will mind said Marian.
But it seems shame that he shouldn't see you
in white and orange blossoms and the veil.
And if you had a summer wedding, with the
house full of flowers, all sorts of roses, honey
suckles-"
II don't imagine that 1 shall Miss Martha
will want me at least all summer, and l should
not think of leaving good engagement for the
sake of marrying John is always there poor,
dear fellow, and it will be better for both of us
to have all we can earn"
''Well, October is as good as June for q we'd
ding" said Teresa. We will have stalks of corn
bound about the pillars of the piazza, and huge
vases of golden rod and asters, and boughs, and
boughs of scarlet maple, and brown and yellow
beech and red oak in the house, and it will be
one of the heavenly Indian summer days that
lose their way out of june all balms and bal
sans, and blue bloom the hills"
''Oh, yes; the middle of October" said Marian,
'sand cousin Matilda will have come back to
Aunt Martha from California by that time"
But another engagement may open," said
Miss Emeline
81 don't care if one does" said Mrs. Holdings
worth. II won't have John treated so; he shan't
be made to wait any longer than October, and
in October that wedding shall be-"
''Well," said Miss Emeline, perhaps SO. I'm
sure you're all very good; but John hasn't said
anything about October in particular, and one
can't fix day to be married till one is asked,
you know" and then she heard Miss Martha call
her
So the household went on, and it was warm
and spicy July when Cousin Bert came, an officer
of the regular army on a furlough-the first con-
siderable furlough for many years-the idol, he,
of all his houseful of cousins.
This is Miss Emeline Colonel Nichols" be-
gan Miss Martha, in stately fashion.
"And we expect you to be as fond of her as we
are" said the mischievous Marian whose spirits
| often ran away with her.
II shall be glad to be allowed the privilege,
| said the Colonel. And Emehne, all bushes,
| looked that moment like nothing else than the
| Italian Aphrodite who,
Fresh as the foam new bathed in Paphian wells
| With rosy, slender fingers backward drew
| From her warm brow and bosom her deep hair.
| Ambrosial, golden, round her lucid throat
| And shoulder
| 'It was very unfortunate beginning" said
| Miss Martha, afterwari, to her great-niece.
There is no sort of sense in making Bert famil
| lar with that girl For my part, wish she
| were out of the house, and shall write to Ma
| tilda to hurry home. Marry John in July or in
/ October, whenever she will, I've done with her.
| 1 like warm blooded animalsl"
Miss Martha might not have thought Miss
| Emeline so cold blooded, however, had she seen
| her one morning, some three weeks after that
/ introduction, walking in the wood, for she was
| always allowed a couple of hours in the morning
for her own recreation. remaining upstairs with
| Miss Martha till after 2 o'clock with that eX-
ception, and retiring upstairs with her again at
z. She was not alone in the woods by any
means Col. Nichols lay in the Pickering sun
| where he tossed himself, but she had paused
in the full sunshine that fell across the stem of
white birch against which she leaned, and all her
wondrous white beauty, all the gold of the hair,
all the OF the eyes, the rose of the cheek,
shone as if it were the incarnation of that sun
| beam. Something of the sort it was evident Col.
Nichols thought. Step out of the sunbeam,
| please he said sit is too dazzling. You are
too dazzling. You will melt back into it
presently and return to your first elements
'My first elements! And what are they!"
'sHow should knowa The things that make
up your enchantment"
You mustn't talk to me So" she said half
sadly. with downcast eyes that left only those
dark fringed, wide white, waxen lids to view,
but stepping into the shadows. you make me
forget that am only an upper servant.
you will not let any one forget it" said the
Colonel, little holly. 'Look up" he said IN a
moment Upon her lids hundred graces sat.
If Belphoeoe had such eyelids as yours, she did
not cast down her eyes too often, for fear Of
making havoc in mems hearts,"
Il thought our compact was one of two