The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1888-06-30
POOR LITTLE EMILY.
The History of a Prudent
Marriage.
By MISS MULOCK.



the matter yet. and | never shall now.
John and Emily parted in the old fathers
presence; he insisted upon that, and in my
presence, too for Emily begged | would
stay. And nt the last, OH how she chung
round the young mans neck, and promised
him faithfully that she would marry him,
and no one but him. And he promised her
as solemnly, and John Stenhouse is man
who never breaks his word, that if he were
alive on the day she came of age, he would
claim her again, and marry her in spite of
man or devil He said that, those very
words, for he seemed half maddened by the
cruelty shown 10 her, the tender, delicate
girl, made TO be loved and taken care of.
And then he kissed her-oh, how he kissed
her 1t makes me cry to think of it.
Poor fellow But. for all that, it would
have been a very imprudent marriage,
said Mrs. Smiles, coldy.
"Imprudent or not, it never came about,
you see, though what happened l have
never found out. Most certainly, John
Stenhouse formed no other attachment.
lie worked hard i'll the Office, and out of
Office hours led most solitary life. He
did not even ask about Emily Kendall
though sometimes when, Intentionally,
| used to mention her, he listened
as if he was drinking in every word.
And L took care that during the
two years he should hear about her all
heard myself. This was not great deal,
Tor her father kept her separated from me
as much as he could, which was human
nature, | suppose. But had news of her
sometimes, and always told them to John.
The only thing L did not tell him was a
rumor that reached me, SO ridiculous it
seemed then, that my husband and only
laughed at it, of her intended marriage to
John Bowerbank."
Il remember it was who told you, and
how indignant you looked. But you see |
was light after all, said Mrs. Smiles, not
without little air of self satisfaction.
well, no matter now. John never
named Emilys name, nor do | know if he
ever heard the report or not; but certainly
Just about that time he went up to London.
Whether it was to claim Emily, whether
he asked her again and she refused him. or
whether he heard the report about her and
John Bowerbauk, and never did come for
ward and ask her, goodness only knows
All | know is that, within two months of
Emilys coming of age, without my ever
seeing him-for | was laid down with that
bad fever, you know, and Edward was too
miserable about me to care much for any,
lody outside-John Stenhouse had quit
ted Liverpool and sailed for India. And
there he Is now, for aught | know. He does
pun
at Christmas always, and last year he sent
an Indian shawl to reach me on my birth
day. But he never names Emily, and he
never gave the slightest explanation about
ANYTHING.
Perhaps" suggested Mrs. Smiles.
there was nothing to explain. The young
lady had changed her mind, tlat was ali.
And no wonder. A marriage viii the head
of the firm instead of one of the Junior
gt1-l II
look. is not that the carriage driving up2
Mr.. Bowerbank's, l presume. Oh, dear if
| could but see one of my daughters driving
away in her own carriage,"
Mrs. knowle did not answer. She stood
half hidden behind the groups of idle
gazers which always gather to stare at
bride. There was a mingled expression in
Ter frank, rosy facc-half pity, half ten
derness, yet fitting ever and anon across it
shadow of something elsa something
rot unlike contempt. Coarse-looking, I'M
cultured woman hs she was. she possessed
that which makes at once woman's utmost
toftness and utmost strength LOVING
heart and clear conviction though she
was not clever enough to put it into
thoughts, still less into words-of the di-
Nineness of Love. Love, which, when NUT
ual, gives and exacts nothing less than the
entire soul of man and woman, and en-
forces as an absolute duty the truth of
which marriage is but the outward sign,
seal, and ratification" What God hath
Joined together let not man put asunder."
L wonder what made her marry him?"
murmured the good matron of thirty years
stand ng. "My patience if had given up
Edward Knowle what would he have thought
Of me? What will John Stenhouse think
of herr"
Nothing at all, probably. He may be
married by this time himself"
81 don't believe it'll never believe it.
Men may be bad enough, but they're not SO
lad as women. They'll not often sell
themselves, soul and body, out of mere
towardice, or break a solemn plighted
promise from sheer fear"
But her father she was bound to obey
her father"
No, she wasn't" replied Mr.. Krowle.
sternlly and strongly. MY dear, you're
lot bound to obey any man living, not
even your own husband, who is mighty
deal closer to you than your father, when
he tells you to do a wrong thing. If Ed
ward knowle said to me, Emma, I'm
hungry, and | want you to chop yourself
mp into mincemeat for me, well, perhaps
| might do ii, if he really wanted it and it
harmed no one but myself. But if he said
'Emma, I'm hungry, and | want YOU to 90
L
NO, sir. Gods law is a higher law than
obedience to you. Steal your leg of NUT
ton for yourself But stop-tbey've
opened the hall door-she's coming"
She came, the little pale bride. Not
even the excitement of the bridal gayeties,
t-e breakfast, the champagne, and the
speeches, could make her ANYTHING but
pale. She leant on the arm of her father
who was an extremely handsome, gentle
~ mi u mol Irarral
sonage. lie put her into the carriage with
the utmost paternal care, with kiss and a
benedlctlon, both of which she received
lasslvely. She seemed altogether pas
sive, frali, gentle creature, such one as a
tTaye, strong man would take and shelter
IN his arms, and love all the dearer for her
very heiplessnes. And John Bowerbank.
though elderly, almost old, did not look
Ike weak man, or an untender man.
Far stronger, far tenderer the two quail
ties usually go together-than the brides
handsome aud elegant father.
Poor thing!" muttered Mrs. Knowle to
h rself. We'll, in one sense, it's an es-
cape. He's an honest man, John Bower
oank. Perhaps she may be happy-at
least, less unhappy than she looks now.
Cod bless her"
And with that cordial bless inc. unheard
end few kindly tears, unseen by her for
vhom they were shed, for in truth the
lrlde did not seem much to hear and see
1nythlng, the carriage drove away. Thus
'erminated the principal scene, and thus
'anished the principal actors in that grand
how wedding, which had been quite salts
'Actory and successful in all its elements.
" to the exception of one trifing omission,
iot unfrequently occurring IN similar cere-
monies-Love.
CHAPTER II
Before telling the simple, sad story-it
60 not pretend to be anything but sad
s'ory-of John Bowerbank's wife. | shonI5
ike 10 say word for John Bowerbank.
he most obvious description of him
and almost universal criticism upon
m, was the common phrase, He was