Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1888-04-26
CHAPTER XIV.
WHAT ARE WE WAITING ToRl

Tho bay span were tossing their heads i'm
patiently at tho gate, and still the young
bridegroom delayed in his house. It was the
evening he was to be married, and when he
entered tho archcd doorway again Bertha
would DO with him. So he must make
cue final tour of his home to see IL there
~as any last finishing stroke of work
Iecessary to mako it worthy of his beautiful
bride. He found all his servants the new grace
'ul maid to wait upon the door, the portly
butler to wait upon the table, and all; and in
structed them carefully in their duties. The in.
tricate domestic mechanism must work with
not one jar or rattle to disturb the new mis-
tress He went into the drawing room and
looked about him. The grand piano that
had been closed and locked so long was open,
and the music placed on the rack as if it were
but yesterday that Bertha had sat before it.
He remembered how her round, white arm
had outdazzled the ivory keyboard the last
time he had seen her here The chintz covers
had been removed from the furniture, whose
blue damask upholstery seemed fairly snil-
ing with delight to have escaped from its
mask. In the embrasure of the window look
ing out to the street, where the three laborers
had stood the evening our story commences,
lay little volume of exquisite engravinCs,
as if some admirer had just put it down
Philip glanced at the page where it was open.
1t was Magdalene; and q shadow passed
over his face at the suggestion. He turned a
few leaves and spread the volume open again.
This time it was Marguerite. Impatiently
he closed the book, which seemed to have no
beautiful picture but it would insult his bride.
He had not made the slightest change in
thu study-his fathers room--where he had
learned too to fight out his spiritual battles.
1t would be proclamation to alter one feat
uro of the room; it should be always as it
was the day Ezekiel Breton died. Philip
opened the door and looked in for moment,
then with full heart he made his way up
the oaken stairs. The room he next entered
was furnished in the shade of blue that
Bertha loved best, the silk upholstered lounge
that made one drowsy to look at it, the
sleepy hollow easy chair, the dressing table
| and toilet set. Over the windows hung
lambrequins of darker tint. softened again
| however, in the flowing curtains below.
| Even the drop lamp had blue porcelain
| shade so that no such thing as white light
| should ever enter Bertha's boudoir. Philip
imagined her sitting in the easy chair lifting
her eyes wonderingly to him, her husband
who never grew tired of telling her she waa
beautiful; or he pictured her asleep on the
lounge one white hand Ly her side, the other
| beneath her cheek. How much of his
thoughts were vague dreaming? Could it be
she was at last to be his; lighting the gloomy
old house with the radiance of her presence
All his other life faded in his memory at the
brightacss of his joy in her. 1t seemed
small thing to him that he had lifted
| 1000 lives into n new plane Of existence
! that he had given hope to 1000 desperate
hearts-compared with the hope of making
this one woman happy and Of living in hel
smiles
But he suddenly started from his fond rev.
cry and passed into another room, all as
white as some cave in a mountain of snow.
| The mantel was of marble, the curtains
cloud like masses of snowy lace: and even the
upholstery of the chairs, and the carpet was
white damask. His heart beat fast as he
stood for a moment in the chamber, then he
went softly out and locked the door behind
him, SO that no foot should cross IT'S sacred
threshold till its mistress came.
1t was to be a very quiet wedding-no
guests, no cards, no banquet The shortest
and simplest form that could make man
and woman one was enough. But the hour
| was past, and yet there was no wedding; the
bride, all dressed, waited to be called from
her room; the young bridegroom paced to
and fro across the parlor floor. There was
no minister
The clock struck the half hour. It was
half past eight. Mr.. Ellingsworth sat in the
parlor reading the evening paper in unbroken
tranquility. Philip was wondering where
Jane could be; whether she was indeed pre-
pairing terrible blow for the white bosom
of his bride. What could she dol
"Ah! I think l hear the carriage" re-
marked Mr.. Ellingsworth, laying aside his
paper with little yawn.
"From which direction" asked Philip
listening eagerly, while the feverish blood
rushed into his face.
Mr.. Ellingsworth went to the window
"Why, from both directions. It sounds tt
me like two carriages. I will so out ant
see"
Philip hurried to the window and raised it
but it was pitch dark; he could sec nothing
Who could be in that second carriage! HI
wanted to be called, but no one camc for him
|
tinguishable voices, but no one called him
Then he made his way out into the hall il
vague terror. He thought Of his bride wait
ing up stairs, and set his teeth for tho worst
No earthly power, no vileness of calumny
no shameful disclosures should move him
His bride waited for him, ready to be hi
when he called for her. Ahl he would no
shame her, though all hell hissed at her. Blu
how fanciful he was. He could hear th
mild hammered minister talking in his polit
tones He caught his complacent laugh
Thank God for it, Nothing could have har
pened He walked along the hall. The voice
came from the dining room. There was tn
minister's laugh again. He pushed open th
door and went In.
|, The minister rose, with the especial defer
ence for wealth that marks many of th
priests Of God, and gave the young man
hand an afectionate squeeze "No dout
Mr.. Breton Is ready. IL is the bridegroom
| who should always be impatient. believe
| am right, am not, Mrs. EllingsworthT'
, Mrs. Ellingsworth- Philip started violentl
, | and tho color left his face She had returne
in time then.
J "Not always" she smiled strangely an
reached out her hand to Philip. It was bu
q womnns hand, small and velvety, but b
, touched 1t as If there were dagger in II
white palm He knew by the look of ev
, triumph in her face that she had not bee
away for nothing. Could 1t be there WIS
, anything worse than he had forgiven alread
, --some page Of Bertha's life so black n
| depth Of love could coveriti A deadly fain
, ness was upon him.
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