The Indianapolis journal., 1885-08-22

| ing in a of his own that his wifes light
| and easily broken slumbers might not be dis
| turoed by his coming. Very often mother and
| daughter sat alone, as on this evening; but to-
| night something unspoken seemed to draw them
| closer together than usual as they sat hand-ln-
! hand IN the low freight.
said
Quite, think" Emmy answered. "Why,
| I've heard you say grandma was married at 10,
| and m taller than you, little mother, already.
The mother smoothed back the brown, way
ing hair from the girls broad brows, and SAID,
| fondly:
THAT was in old times dear Girls are not
so foolish nowadays. | hope it may be many
year yet before my gireen goes away to leave
m9 in the cold. Child, you have been the one
! JOY Of my life"
Then you can count on your JOY for long
time to come. think. He'd have 10 be such a
man as I've never seen yet who could coax me
away from my nanny"
| And then some brands fell and Emmy picked
! them up, and the fire sprang into fresh life and
| ghnted on the girls bright, dark eyes and warm
! cheeks and soft hair and sense of her beauty,
keen almost to pain, struck home to her mothers S
| heart.
'Ah but you will marry, sometime" she
said with long sigh, and somehow dread It
for you. You need warmth: You could not
bear cold, dead life. What [ am going to say
will sound romantic, dear child, but there's no
one but you to hear me, and tell you now that
vi al L!Ic SOOu DtIOHS W bulS DIcSGllG
| life true love is the best Marry the whom
| you love and who loves you. Let nothing else
tempt you-nothing prevent you"
1t was after events, doubt which made
| these words seem TO Emmy so sacred and so
binding for they, and the goodnight that fol-
! lowed them, were the last her mother ever
| spoke.
That night Emily Riching died, and quietly
| and uncomplalnlngly she had lived When
| the morning sun looked in to find her, she had
| gone, beyond the night and the stars, to the
world that has no need of the sun by day.
Jacob Rlching took his wfes death very calm
ly. From his point of view her life had been
failure, for the firm Of Riching (& Son had been
| exactly twenty years postponed by his marrying
| her 1t looked little as if providence had been
| opposed to his designs; but Jacob Riching was
| but fifty three then, and rich, and his purpose
| sprang up afresh from his wlfes grave. lie
waited decorous year, for he was proper man
and then he proposed to young lady who
| seemed to him, as Emily Ford had done quite
| suitable wife. Unfortunately the young lady s
| views did not coincide with his own, and her
| decided refusal took him by surprise Twice
afterwards he made similar vain attempts to ally
! himself properly. and then ceased his efforts IN
| that direction.
Meantime, Emmy left very much to herself,
| had found her chief comfort in the house of her
| fathers housekeeper. Mrs. Shines had been one
| of the few persons whom the late Mrs. Rlching
| had welcomed into her retirement, and Emmy
| had known and liked her from child. With her
heart well-nigh broken by her mothers death
she had turned to this old friend for comfort and
had grown to be almost like a daughter in the
| Shines house before it had even entered in Jacob
Richines head to ask himself what had become Of
her And in the Shines house was son, some SIX
| pears older than Emmy, already doing very
reasonably well in business. and quite capable of
| knowing his own mind. And this son, Thomas
| Shines, Jr., had been quite aware that he was in
| love with Emmy, ever since day when he
found her sitting with his mother, clad IN her
! deep mourning, with her face that seemed to
| him the saddest thing IN the world, and the
sweetest. And though the subject had never
been limited at between them, be sure that
! Emmy knew his heart, and had answered its
muttered question with all her own.
| After Jacob Richlng had failed in his third
| and last atte mpt at wooinc he quietly conceded
the point that fate had batfied him IN that especial
| direction; but he much disincned be
| beaten ever, and a new plan formed itself in
| his mind Emmy should marry. Emmys hus
| band should add the name of Riching to his own,
| and thus at last. should Riching q Son come to
be one of the great business names of New
York, and might, after all, be handed down
from generation to generation, even as he had at
! first planned
Having come to this conclusion and being q
| man of business and trader to the blunt ends
| of his strong fingers. he went home to take
stock-that is to say, to look at Emmy with a
| keen eye to her market value. 1t would have
| been hard to find lovelier young creature Of
| II than this who awaited him in his warm
perceived this fact with pleasant surprise, He
was more social than usual, and after dinner he
even turned Emmy compliment on her good
| looks. and accompanied his request that she
should leave off her mourning and choose her
self proper wardrobe to go into society with a
check which quite astonished her by it's magni-
tude.
But have no chaperone, papa" she said
gently. Mrs. Smith does very we'll to keep
house, and TO sit in the room when my music
and language masters come but could hardly
60 to parties with her."
Certainly not" Mr. Riching answered with
| heroic self-denlal Il will go with you. | can
afford TO put my work aside somewhat IN your
interest and you are not likely to need me al
ways"
f The next years life to Emmy Rching was
! something other than she had known. She wore
beautiful gowns. She drove in well appointed
carriage She went TO numberless parties She
entertained at home; and. being but mortal like
| her peers she would no doubt have been verv
much spoiled but for the refuge from worldliness
which she found at the Simeses quiet freside
and the strong though still unspoken love that
| held her heart.
| 1t was year before any admirer presented
himself to Miss Richng who found favor with
| ner father. When at last such a one came he
was old-young man, canny and prosperous
| with reasonably good fortune and a strong
commercial ambition. Had such a son of his
own been given to Jacob Rching then indeed
would his cup Of content have been full to the
| brim. The next best thing would be to have him
| for sOnn-law.
AS was beitting so reasonable suitor the
! young man spoke first to the father of his
| charmer and was met on the threshold of his
wooing by the stipulation that if his suit were
! successful he should add Riching to his own
name, enter into the business with his fatherin-
law and be the ''son" of Riching & SON Proba-
bly, nothing could have pleased him better, but
| he was CONNER rcial enough to show little dis
Greet hesitation. He presently, however ac-
cepted the condition. and Jacob Richng under
took to prepare his daughter to give him IA
| vorable answer.
You have seen that Emmy Riching had begun
her life by disappointing her father She ought
in the outset TO have been her own brother-and
it certainly seemed to be the least she could do
to make up for this by giving her father SON
| in-law after his heart. Jacob Riching
then, had reason on his side when, lingering a
! Ettln after hreak fist W. he Laid hof