Daily Yellowstone journal., 1885-04-24
MARRIED IN HASTE.


through it's dead, cold gloomi
Yet il was. by my own consent, TO
be my wedding day tomorrow. | had
said IL; | had not only said it, but had
said should never repent,
As the early dawn breaks through
the gloom of night, ! hear the old cocA
In the farm yard gite a dismal boot pre-
paratory to the first crow 10 the new
day.
And, utterly tired out. / fall asleep.
One-two-three-four five six
seyen-eight beats of the tall old clock
on the stair head, outside my door, and
1 jump wildly to my feet.
AT 8 o'clock. then, be said.
i had only one hour-only one hour
to be Norah Glennie.
AT the time that clock struck 10, |
should be Norah Mapleson-a wife, u
true wife 10 true husband.
re-arrange my dress with feverish
haste.
only stop 10 drink cup of milk ere
leave the house, only Just in time to
catch the country train as it passes our
country station.
| am in time.
once more my hands are clasped in
his.
We say 10 word; only hurry through
the sleepy streets till we enter the dingy
Office, where, by some strange method,
We are made man and wife. All is
dream to me.
l wonder vaguely where are my
bridesmaids, where are my father and
mother Bah! Why of course they are
dead, long, long ago. ] have only my
uncle, and he is lying bedrldden at
Norlington farm.
How could he be here The only thing
that seems real to me is the shining
ring on my finger.
/ look at il in kind of fear as | draw
my old Kid glove over Il before leaving
the house in which Nora Glennie had
gone few minutes ago, and out of
which now a white, startled woman was
issuing-Nora Mapleson.
"Don't be so distr ssed, my darling!
Don't looRso, or cannot bearite"
81 draw deep breath; st8coh out
my hand little wildly, sup sc, for
he takes it tirmly III his and LAY it on
his arm as he hurries me thrc lgh the
streets back again il the direction of the
railway station.
Once more We are in the train.
"Nine-mine forever do not feal
the future now" is all my husband
SAYS; but there is a world of love IN
his eyes.
Poor William! in weeks time he will
be on the ocean and We will have parted
for many months-perhaps years.
He lets me rest quietly in his arms
during the very short journey back
again 10 Norlington. | get out of the
train alone, as he is going on some bust
ness two stations further on: then he
will come back for the rest Of the week
to the farm.
Before you go into the room, wife,
darling, you will take It otf!'--and he
touches my finger, on which the bright,
new wedding-ring glitters.
Il cannot | say, shuddering. 1T
Is unlucky to remove n wedding ring"
But, my darling, his sharp eyes will
The train goes on, and am alone.
see his face looking at me from the win
dow, alarmed and anxious; but ] nod
reassuringly, and he smiles.
Ii causes no remark that have been
out so early this morning, for every
thing lately is so upset by reason of my
uncles illness, and William near de-
parture
Then, again, there is only old Betty
in the kitchen; and, perhaps, she
scarcely knows have been out. and il
the nurse who has been called in 20 at
tend my uncle knows, she. doubtless,
thinks | have been into town on some
hous hold errand.
About my ring. | must hide it: but ]
cannot take II on. | hurry up into my
room, and hurriedly turn over the con
tents OF an old musty DIRE sing.ease, that
had been my fathers. Where can IL he
That old garnet ring, with the queer un-
der-groove in it, that feel sure will let
this thin wedding-ring slip into IL, and
80 keep my secret from pryng eyes.
All. with hot. trembling fingers find
IL; it does exactly as ] thought il would
do.
With that broad old ring always on, /
need fear no discovery. None Iut my.
self would ever know that under it Law
another, the tiny circlet of gold binding
me stronger than iron bands could do
10 my dear love"
During the day my old uncle is taken
much worse, and he will let no one he
near him but me. William comes in
and out Of the room, but am tied TO il
all the day, till toward evening uncle
falls into deep sleep, and can safely
leave him with his nurse II was a
rambling old house, Eorlington farm.
and il had been my only home now for
nearly seven years, all of which time
William Mapleson had lived as my
uncle's steward and helper under the
same roof
IL had been hard, self-denying life
for him, perhaps: but for me--or rather
for his love for me-he would never
have borne IT, Till latterly. the hard
old man had never discovered our love:
and when he had, there was no mora
peace for us under his roof.
He had ragged and stormed, declaring
that no niece of his should marry Viii
lam Mapleson, on pain OF disnherit.
ance.
Mine WAS always a weak, timid ma.
ture. Perhaps some women Il was nc
longer a young girl; my thirtieth birth.
day had come and gone would have
actively resented his tyranny and asserted
their individual rights, / could not.
j was in his power; for when my parents
died la had falpn me in "A DelnlleSs