Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1885-09-20

occasionsllv forwarded with regard 70
his tenants or bis horses.
az wonder II SQUIRREL be up LOT 'no
wcddipgy- said Mother Andrews On
the 3lst Of December; "he took .
sight Of notice Of the lass last sum
mer."
Fsr husband shook his head.
Master Martin said as how the
q. xsrd told him this morning the
,souire was in London, and wouldn't be
here At all for the winter; shouldn't
wonder IL he was q bit sweet on her
himself. But it's naught to me or you,
wife, and evil ever comes Of wagglng
tongue" After this lengthy speech
the good man took q vigorous pull AZ
his pipe, while Dame Andrews busted
into the shop to serve little Billy Mar
tin with farthing's worth OF csndy LOT
himself, and two dip-candles Tor his
mother. =,
"Wrap 'em separate, please the
urchin requested, for he knew the dame
was not over liberal with wrapping
paper. u.;,
were spending their last evening to-
cether before the wedding. They sat
in the deep window-seat, watching the
stars through the uncurtained window
and talking happily. Mrs. Franklin
was busting about the room, busted
with a hundred little odds and ends OF
work which must be done before the
morrow. Dutifully Muriel offered
HELM. but WAS sent back to the window
with 1. kiss, and when she saw
the tears in her mothers eyes, in spite
Of the smile on her lips, she went back
with her own eyes suspiciously wet,
for this, the first and final parting be-
tween mother and daughter. wrung
both their hearts; and though Murlel
looked forward to the morrow as the
beginning OF her own true life, the
entry into Paradise that comes to most
of US once in our life, this rather
seemed to make her mothers love
dearer to her when she was going out
from her gentle protection, and the
parting seemed harder from the very
happiness before and after it.
The lovers went to the door to hear
the knell OF the old year and the glad
bells heralding the advent of the new.
To-day. my darling, you will be-
come mine forever" Tom said, as the
bells chimed out clear on the frosty
air. "Thus I give you the first kiss
of the year" and with tender farewells
he left her.
She stood at the door to watch him
out Of sight. He went along with his
firm, regular step down the path and
across the field; at the corner leading
into the lane he stopped to kiss his
hand for the last time, and Murlel
watched him wistfully, tenderly, for
she loved him very much.
Far down on the horizon rested a
heavy bank of cloud before the morn
ing the north wind had brought it up
over the sky, and feathery flakes were
falling fast when Muriel awoke in the
gray dawning of her wedding morning.
Already the household was astir, and
soon commenced the merry hustle OF
getting the bride ready. There was
much girlish laughter and few quiet
tears before Muriel came into the parlor
in her simple, pure white dress, her
beautiful face softened and tender with
the love that found expression in her
downcast eyes.
The little procession wendell its way
along the path through the snow but
just cleared by the sturdy laborers OF
the farm. Around and within the
church door the whole village seemed
congregated, and, indeed, all but the
very young and the very cid had assem-
bled to do honor to their acknowledged
belle. The green decorations Of Christ
mastide were yet fresh and unfaded,
and the church was aglow with a sud-
den ray Of bright wintry sunshine as
the procession entered the sacred build
ing. There was a hush for moment
as the sweet old chimes rang out and
the hour of ii sounded from the tower.
A stir rose in the doorway, and peo-
pie whispered one to another. The
bridal party waited little apart from
the villagers, and the old clergyman,
who almost thirty years ago had we'd
ded Muriel's mother to the man Of her
choice, was waiting to do the same for
her child. The chimes for the quarter
and then for the half hour sound
ed, but still they waited anx-
iously. The bridegroom was not
there. Dame Martin shook her head
ominously and whispered doleful words
in her neighbours car the clergyman
talked apart to William Franklin ; Mu
riel, pale and anxious, leaned on he
mothers arm. At last twelve strokes
resouDded; the messengers had re
turned. Tom Ridgway's house wa
shut up and deserted, and no trace o
him had been discovered.
Dear friends" said the old clergy
man, his voice subdued and tremulous
"there is some mistake we must hav
patience, and trust that this myster,
may be unravelled before many hour
have passed" Then he placed his han,
on Muriel's head, gently smoothing tn
shining ringlets "May God comfor
you, dear one, as He alone can, in thi
trouble