Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1886-02-13
A WEDDING DAY.

was married to-day All the books ]
have ever read finished with The marriage
Of the heroine, so / suppose my life ought
TO be over now. Bat il seems 10 me as if il
had just begun. am not much Of hero
ine-only a country girl who has seen
nothing OF the world but George says ]
know quite enough, and that there is
nothing 50 delightful as a simple young
girl who has never been in society. George
is my husband I was IS last week. Ever
since my 18th birthday have kept diary,
and never missed writing in it once This
is brand new one with lock and KEY.
almost wish year was written in it al
ready. ] feel so curious 10 know about the
future. People say it is silly to keep a
journal, but / have had q great deal OF
pleasure out Of mine Sometimes on dull
days | have read about merry ones gone
by, and then everything has come back
quite fresh, and ] have seemed 10 live the
pleasant hours over again. OF course, /
never intend to have any secrets from
George, but | made him promise faithfully
not to want TO look at the new diary ] am
going to keep, and which | am beginning
now. He laughed and kissed me- and
swore that he would only read il if | gave
1t him of my own free will |
don't fancy | shall do that, because
have an idea that it would seem silly to
him. and | don't want him TO have poor
opinion of me and think of me as a little
schoolgirl. Not that ever was at school.
which he says Is a very good thing
know he would laugh al the very words |
am going 10 write now. and no doubt they
are vain and ridiculous | like being called
my lady" After having been no one in
particular, and only younger daughter
not very highly considered, it is delightful
to be parsonage" and to be made a
great fuss with. And. though it sounds
very unamiable. can't help feeling the
pleasure increased by knowing that my
sisters and cousins are most dreadfully
jealous OF me. They try to hide it, and
they have made me promise 10 ask them 10
stay very soon, and to do all sorts Of things
for them and J mean to if George will let
me. And to think that three months ago
] had never seen him, and never been in
love, though had always longed to be
only there was no one in our village that |
possibly could have made a hero Of For
three years | lived on the memory of the
handsome young man who came TO church
once with the Cogrtneys and made him
AnE iAtlb VI lily 4lDNtAc anu GtGdlS. Dtt
all that is past history, written in the vol
umes lett at home in my old desk, together
with the wonderful story Of how / met Sir
George, and how he fell in love with me
and / with him. And / dare not say how
/ adore him, or how happy ! am, for fear he
should ever see what ! have written.
We were married to-day, but everything
IS inextricabiy confused in my mind l
know ! woke at with the sun streaming
in at the window and did not close my
eyes again. 1t seems almost 4 week ago,
and it is only twelve hours. My new car
rage clock, one of my wedding presents,
has Just chimed ;. Then there was the
dressing, and all of them coming to help
me and wished them away, only did not
like 10 seem nnkind. Il was the first time
they bad ever told nae I was pretty l
liked that Then the children strewing
flowers and the Bishop marrying me. But
the only part of the ceremony remember
IS when George kissed me the moment il
was oyer Then the breakfast and the
speeches and the oa}riage-in-fOur and the
troin-au that seems unreal, TOO. One
thing puzzles me. When we were in the
railway carriage George hardly spoke, but
kept looking out Of the window and |
saw the reflection Of his face once, and
fancied it had a haggard, worried look
OF it might only have been distorted
by the glass. And when we arrived here
he asked me if I would not like TO rest I
little. and said Yes" but ! wes rather
disappointed, because l should have liked
to have gone out with him into the delight
full old garden that | can see from my win
dow. This is such a pretty old-fashioned
place auitc ones idea of what an old coun-
try inn should be- and there is a charming
garden, with big trees and lots Of flowers
Some great person wanted TO lend George
his country seat for our honeymoon, but
he did not like the idea, nor did l.. Then
it was settled that we should go to his own
home; but, Just day or two before the
wedding, he asked me if | would not much
rather 20 where neither of Us was known,
and ] agreed willingly, because whatever
he likes ! ike, aed | should have hated the
fuss and ceremony of addresses and tri-
umphal arches and that sort Of thing. All
that, ! suppose, viii take place later, and [
shall be horribly shy and nervous
The most extraordinary thing has hap
pened George has just been in, looking
quite pale and upset, to tell me that he has
had n telegram from Oneof his most init
mate friends. who has had an accident, and
implores him to 60 to him at once. Poor
George seems distracted. ! hardly know
how felt when he told me, but after z
moment / said that Of course under the
NlAIulAtolaliitSaf ne bNstnt ~ 70. men ne
caught nue. in his arms, but ne looked 50
strange that l felt almost frightened and
was rather glad when lie went.
=" / shall be back by II o'clock to- morrow
morning at latest my own darling be
said, and kissed me again; then rushed
away. l sat a long time looking out of the
window after he had driven off ] cannot
in the least describe how l feel. The ex-
preston of his face haunts me. ] suppose
IL, =. fill rl II
friend bat be looked almost as if ii was
his fault--as If he had some sort of re-
morse about il. OF course that is all non
sense. | am rather given 70 fancyinc
things. / wish now had asked him some
thing more about his friend-he did no.
even tell ME where be was: but WAS SO
taken by surprise that it did not occur "a
me 10 inquire, The last words he said
Were: shall be back tomorrow, darling
and then we shall be 50 awfully happy
! have been wandering about the garden
and sitting under the trees, feeling very
disconsolate and oppressed. could almost
fancy that / am widow and have lost
him forever. I don't think l ever realized
before how Immensely love him. and how
blank and awful the world would seem
without him. Why Of all days should his
friend have had an accident to-day Ineyel
read of such a thing happening in ans
novel. To think that l. who have led such
quiet, uneventful life until | met HIM
should be the victim of such a strange ae
cident 1t will make this diary very inter
esting 10 read later; but, oh, 1 feel 81
wreiched and miserable now There is
tear which has made great blot. What
bad beginning
My head swims hardly know if / am
IN my right senses. l am staring at ths
paper now, and cannot understand it on.
whit and yet | know that some awful in
conceivable calamity has happened 10 me
What shall l do2 Where can Igo? TX
whom can turn
had just finished dinner-a duh enough
meal, heaven knows the first ever sa
down TO alone. All the time was thinking
Georges handsome face ought TO be oppo
site to me, and that it should have been th,
pleasantest dinner / ever had in nv life