San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1886-04-28
ILL.

Objections were Over-ruled, and the mar
riage-day was fixed. Certainly their pros
poets were very bright The articles Of part
nershp were signed, and George Arson be-
came an associate of Mr.. ChallOneT. He had
taken pretty house near and was furnish
ing it. But they would not be less than six
weeks in Germany.
We are all as busy as bees, working at
MaTy's trOuSSGdU. Adelaide seemed to have
got over her trouble and worked with the
rest | wondered whether her cheerfulneSS
was real or put on.
The wedding was fixed for the first week
in September-a Tuesday. On the Monday,
Georges brother Edward, and his sister,
Mrs. Brooke, arrived from Cheshire, the only
two of the family who could attend it, Mr..
Arson was Ill Just then, and his wife would
not leave him As to our hustle indoors,
had never seen anything like it. But then it
had not been my luck to be in a house at
wedding before.
1t was perhaps significantly curious that
when the bright sun, shining through the
curtains, awOke me on the Tuesday morning,
two of the lines spoken by the gypsy should
cross my memory. IquOted them to Mary as
we dressed her:
The morning of your marriage nearS,"
81 had forgotten about that gypsy" she
answered. blushing. But | am glad the
sun shines"
Happy is the bride that the sun shines
on that saying must be true, think: don't
you Adelaide?" cried Emma. And | turn
ed sharply round, for had not known that
Adelaide was there.
., 4,
Mary looking most lovely in her white silk
and lace and orange blossoms the
breakfast and then the departure. The car
rage was at the gate to convey them to the
station. en- route for London. The follow
ing day they would travel to Dover, stay
there day or two, and so onward by easy
stages to Germany.
Mary, in a gray travelling dress, was seated
In the carriage, tears in her eyes and the last
adieu on her lips, and George Arson was
about to enter it, when Adelaide made her
way through the group of IT'S standing around
the gate, armed with slippers, and touched
George on the arm.
Il have word to say" she whispered to
him; and, Obeying the motion she made, he
drew aside with her. She looked mp at him
wiStfully.
Goodbye, George" she said; remember
me always as am now"
And when the carriage had driven off, we
did not know what to do with ourselves. l
expect it is the same at most weddings. Some
strOlled about the garden, some sat indoors;
presently the gentlemen went off for long
walk; and as to myself, honestly confess
that, sitting in the shade under the lime
trees, sOothed by the air and the murmuring
sounds of the sweet summer day, dropped
asleep.
Where's Adeaide?' asked Mrs. Chal-
Toner, when went into the drawing-roOm,
and found them at tea. II thought she was
with you out of doors"
mo, she has not been with me. | have
not seen her all the afternoon. daresay
she is resting in her room"
Emma, 20 up; tell her to come and have
some tea
But Emma, lying back at full length in an
eaSy-chair, did not seem inclined TO stir.
went for her.
Coming out of Adelaide's room was Eliza:
beth, her face white and scared. "Ma'am,"
she said, there's something the matter with
Miss Arson. | came in to put the room in
order, for there has been no time to do il
since the dressing this morning, and | was
startled at seeing her lying on the bed. She
lOOks-she looks"
Looks Whdtf' l cried, as Elizabeth could
not go on for agitation.
dead" returned the maid. "She is pale
and cold"
"Yes, there lay Adelaide, pale and cold. i
bent over her, and the concluding lines of
the gypsy came back to me uncalled for:
The night you sleep upon his breast
She in the arms of death may rest"
And they were followed by the sound of
those the woman had said to Adelaide. 1t
was Just as though some hammer were beat
ing within my brain.
''Of thyself beware. beware,
In thy madness have a care,
Lest thou Deaths White garments wear"
My cries reached the drawing-roOm, and
brought them all out of it, In moments of
sharp terror, l have no more presence of
mind than other people, gOverness though !
am.
II do not think she is dead" said Mrs.
Brooke, clasping Adelaide in her arms. But
she has taken something Send for doctor
at once"
All was confusion and excitement for some
hours to come. But Adelaide was restored
TO her senses and to life. The very strictest
quiet was enjoined for her Elizabeth and
nurse were left to watch over her, while |,
alone with Mrs. ChallOner and Maria Brooke,
made TO them the communication, which per-
haps ought TO have made before-that find
ing of the arsenic few weeks ago in AIDE
ladies chamber.
ut runs in her temperament" said Mrs.
Brooke, sOlemnly. You do not know it
believe, Helen, turning to Mrs. Challoner
but her mother more than once, attempt
ed her own life in an excess of passion. She
was West Indian, and the Arson family
were much put out, l have heard, when my
uncle Richard married her. She was an only
child, an heress, had always been fearfully
INDUCED, and could not brook the slightest
contradiction. She used to keep poison by
her; and, as tell you, she more than once
took enough of it to endanger her life AIDE
laide must have inherited the maiNa."
why did your mother propose that she
should reside with us for time, Maria?'
. questioned Mrs. Challoner. "Tel! me. /
have never clearly understood"
I'VE thought that 1t would be beneficial to
her, replied Mrs. Brooke. Adelaide was
getting very restless; we scarcely knew
whether 1t was mind or health that was af-
fected; and had also noticed that she was
beginning to pursue George. From morbid
fancy only, as believe. George saw moth