Abilene weekly reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1888-1935, 1890-01-30
os. "Only very, very


Florence was past twenty-five, and the
oldest OF a large family; her parents
were worthy, worldly people; worthy,
in the sense of having a large family to
support upon a small income, they were
willing and anxious to do their best for
them, and worldly, more particularly
the mother, in that she was determined
that no mistaken notions" as she
called them, of love, should interfere, if
she could help it, with her daughters
marrying well; marrying well in
worldly point Of view-that is, man
rich enough to keep them comfortably,
and good enough to make them happy,
or at least to make the promise Of that
possible.
"No necessity for all this love and
nonsense" argued the practical Mrs.
Brown, who, never having experienced
that peculiar affection that mortals call
'love, altogether ignored the necessity
Of its existence; and having, as she
feared, noticed the budding of these
''highfalutin" notions in her eldest
born. Florence, determined to crush
them, not only for Florence's own good,
but also for the good of, and, as an ex-
ample to, Florence's younger sisters.
Not that / have any thing against
| Mr.. Weston" she remarked one day,
when his attentions to Florence had
been commented upon in her hear
ing. 81 think him good man, and a
religious man, but he is not rich man,
and even il he were free to marry any
one but the girl he is engaged to, he
never should marry our Florence; / in
tend her for her own good, and for the
good of her sisters, to marry Mr.. Bent.
And Florence, ever a slave to her
mothers much stronger will, meekly &C
guessed. Indeed, she had never once
thought of opposition. 1t is true, when
she compared the two men, her heart
rebelled slightly, but she had schoOled
it to submission, and as for over twenty
years her mothers wishes had been law
to her in other things, why not in this?
So she saw herself engaged to the rich,
vulgar merchant quietly enough-an en-
gagement in which she had nothing to
say, merely to submit; and she let him
place the handsome engagement ring
upon her hand with none of those feel
| ings with which such an act is generally
performed. Her mother was pleased,
and that satisfied her, or ought to do so;
and if rebellious thoughts would in
trude at times, as at Lily's idle words,
why, they must be crushed, that was
all. Mr.. Weston was nothing to her
must be nothing; and he was, as he him
self informed her, pledged to another.
A few days later, and Florence sat
with her mother and sisters in the par
lor. She was rarely alone. In large
| family solitariness is not cultivated
scarcely allowed. And now, as evening
| approached, and the sun was sinking
| slowly to its rest, she sat by the win
dow and watched it through fast falling
| tears.
The day had been long one, and she
was tired. She had experienced but
little pleasure in the rambling excur-
sion from store to store with her mother,
selecting the trousseau for her coming
marriage.
1t was not to be very elaborate one.
Her fathers slender means forbade any
undue display. But as Florence fol-
| lowed he: busy mothers steps through
that long summer day, she could not but
notice that the articles selected-with
scarcely a reference to herself-were
good and useful, and such as might be
needed in any station.
''The gimcracks. as Mrs. Brown
sagely observed, your husband can buy
for you after you are married"
And now many of these things were
heaped upon the table; some in her
room upstairs; some her sisters and her
mother were warmly discussing and adj
miring But Florence took no part in
the conversation around her; no interest
in the articles heaped everywhere. She
still sat at the window, her head lean
ing against it, and still her tears fell
fast.
| There was a ring at the door-bell, and
hurried scramble to put things little
in order. The visitor was Mr.. Weston,
and he had "called to see Miss Flor
ence." He asked for her at the door;
but, according to previous instructions,
the servant showed him into the room
where Florence sat with the family. He
greeted them warmly, and then advanc-
ing to Florence, he took her hand.
"My call was more especially for you,
Miss Florence" he observed quietly.
And as my time is limited, perhaps
you will favor with few moments
alone?"
Florence rose to follow him from the
room, but her mother interposed:
"You surely have nothing to say to
Florence that you can not say before her
mother" she remarked, rather sternly.
Then before her mother / must
speak, he returned, with visible annoy
ance, ''as my time is short. Florence,
l love yOu-have loved you since the
first day met you, and recognized in
you the companion and helper l have
sought so long for my future labors.
You and | are both bound to others by
ties which are irksome, nay, CALLING.
feeling as believe we both do. Flor
ence, shall these ties be broken"
''No! noI' said Florence, wildly. 81
have promiSed-you have promised. Go
to her who expects to become your wife
and-God bless your
Then goodbye, Florence, dearest
best beloved. l could not leave you
without speaking, without giving you a
chance to escape" he continued, mean
ingly; 'but let it be as you say; and
perhaps you are right Goodbye, and
may Heavens choicest blessings be
yours"
He clasped her 20 his breast, regard
less of her mothers presence, pressed
one long, passionate kiss upon the pale
brow. and was gone.
About time you were married, Flor
ence. l should saw" remarked Mrs.