St. Paul daily globe., 1888-05-13
A GOLDEN BRIDE.


oI tne actual truth daWned upon her
mind. s-tE
"There is great deal more to tell,
Emily, and yet it can be told in ten
words; one short sentence will reveal
all. Can you bear what / am going to
say, my dear little sister'' added he.
Were alone concerned would bear
what must come cheerfully; but it is
not so, and want you to stand by ME
, now"
''Of course would do that always,
Stuart" she answered, trembling
You are frightened, Emily; but yet
think you are prepared for what is to
come"
Yes" she said, ''yes;" but she was
so bewildered that she could not fully
realize what was passing between her
self and him.
''Well then, listen. Emily" resumed
he, land be my defender, my friend,
when my father and mother turn against
me-when am far from my old home!
Emily, this may be our good-by for
years, for tonight must let my father
know the truth-Ella and | were mar
ried week since!'
Married." faltered Emily Craye,
literally stunned by the blow.
Yes. Emily, Ella is my adored wife!
| loved her so absOrbingly, how could |
help telling her so when she was left
alone and penniless? And having done
! this, how could l leave her? Then,
when people began to whisper cruel
things against my angel, my pure and
| lovely darling, because of my constant
visits to the farm where she had found
| lodgings, what way lay before me but
! to marry her? Oh! she is my life's
deep joy! She is my dearest treasure!
| What is wealth compared to my Elias
| lOvelineSs and inmost worth?'
Emily tOttered to her feet (She had
| sunk on seat in her agitation), and
she faltered ont:
Papa will never, never forgive
yOu"
ut is that which cut me to the heart,
Emily" said Stuart. "It is not a light
/ thing to feel ones self cut off from
home and ones nearest relations. But
l must 60 and write to my father, and
| pack up the few things which l can call
my own. Kiss me, dear Emily, and
! don't refuse to write to me now and
| then. Goodbye, dear sister!" He took
her moment into his arms, kissed her
| atfectiOnately and rushed from the
room.
The young man was in such tumult
OF feeling that he was but few min
uteS in dashing off some lines to his
father, in which he briefly revealed the
| truth. Then, as hastily ringing for the
f0otman who usually waited on him, he
! directed the astonished servant to pack
all his things and forward them to the
Great Western station, after which,
with mute farewell to his mother,
whom he saw leiSurely ascending the
| great staircase, and dared not now en-
counter, he passed out of his ancestral
| home and took the way to farm house
which lay on the road to the rectory.
| AS he drew near the picturesque old
| building he caught sight of her who
| held all his heart setting by window,
near which stood lamp. This lamp
| lighted the exterior of the hOmely room,
| showing the exquisite girlish form, the
enhancing beauty of the youthful
bride. Her large gray eyes had world
OF loneliness in them, and something
far more than this, for it was divineSt
love which was hidden in their depths.
ions which seldom meets us here; and
all about her clustered the graces of
girlhOod. mixed with those of the dawn
of faireSt WOmanhOOd. .:s:'
No wonder the young heir: of Stuart
Grove had been unable to resist her
beauty, and had besOught her (when she
had left his mothers roof to wed him
ere the year grew older. 81
Ella had been very friendlesS; she
had passed her childish days with
stern old uncle, who rented small
farm in the neighborhood, but he loved
books better than farming, and when
his lease expired and his niece was ten
! years old he accepted the invitation of
an elderly relative to go out to Austria,
| liza and help him alike in managing a
| Sheep-run there and in arranging a
large library he had got together. AS
| to Ella, he had cOndescended in this
! emergency, to ask the advice of Lady
| Craye for he had been a Tenant of Sir
Thomas, and her ladyship took an in
terest in the orphan girD. .e -s:s
"Send her to school," said Lady
| Craye, "a good middle-claSs school, and
she will be able to find employment
! afterward as teacher, for She is not
| suited for other work."
J And so 1t had come to pass that Elias
| uncle failed away, leaving 9250invested
| for the child's benefit, and a school was
| found for her where the terms were
about e40 year; and when the girl
quilted school at sixteen, and Lady
Craye saw how quick and clever she
had grown, she offered her the post of
nursery gOverneSS at Stuart Grove, for
| Emily and her eldest brother had two or
three little sisters still in the nursery.
1t was thus that Ella and the young
heir had grown to love each other:
though they never met in the drawing
| room except on the rarest occasions.
such as children'S dance or a Christ
| mas tree. AT the end of a twelvemonth,
Lady Craye Though without any SuS-
picion of the love story which had been
| acted OUT had decided that it would be
| better to have an older person and for
elgncr for her younger children, and
she told Ella that she had taken lOdg-
ingS for her at Willow Farm, and would
soon find hera position III school as
Junior teacher: and Ella had been very
gentle and spoken but few words of
sorrow, but her young heart was broken.
She went away TO the farm one
evening without any opportunity of
bidding farewell to him whom she had
always called "Mr. Stuart" and not
caring, if parted from him, to struggle
on in the dim, cold, cruel waste which
life must be to her without his presence:
| and as she was sinking into voiceless
despair, he came! He threw himself at
her feet, and poured out the wondrOus
tale of his devoted worship. Back
INFO sunlight and WarmeSt ioy passed
Elias soul. He loved her! and the
world for her was recreateG i'll colors
all divine!
She was young, so loving, so terrified
| when whispers about ''the young
squire" began to reach her ears, that
| after passionate entreaties from Stuart
''to bless him by becoming his own
sweet BRIDE" she had yielded, and the
young pair had been married by
/ special license. The hurried bridal
was to be kept secret but a little
while;. Stuart had always meant to
avow it and bear the consequences.
Well, the consequences had now be-
gun. Ella, the beautiful bride he had
won, sat waiting for him in the twi-
light; his high-toned mother was calmly
! dressing for dinner unconscious of tho