St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1891-11-08
confidently expected to find him at

COHhuchIly expected 10 ma MIN at
home.
mo, Geoffrey,"-my sister ALWAYS had
way OF jumping to conclusions, espe-
cially such conclusions as were least
favorable to her fellow creatures-"h
has not returned, and, what is more, you
may depend upon it he won't. You
mark my words, there'll be no wedding
Tomorrow"
My sister Fanny has a power of an
moving me which no other human being
possesses.
You mark my words,' | retorted
with asperity, ''you had better give up
making such laundering idiot of your
self. There'll be more wedding tO-mOr-
row than ever you'll take the first part
H." A prophecy which, by the way,
came true.
But though could snarl confidently
TO my sister, | did not feel so comfort
able when, late that night /, standing
on the doorstep of Johns house, heard
that he had not returned. | went home
gloomily through the rain. Next morn
ing brought brilliant blue sky, gold
sun. and all such Softness of air and
beauty of cloud as go to make up a per-
feet day. woke with vague feeling
of having gone to bed anxious, and of
being rather averse to facing that anX-
IVY III bHC lIR III VI luli WdkeIulneSS.
But with my shaving water came a
note from John which relieved nv mind
and sent me up to the Forsters with a
light heart.
May was in the garden. | saw her
blue gown through the hollvhOcks as
the lodge gates swung to behind me.
80 J. did not go up to the house, but
turned aside down the turfed path.
hes written to you, tOO," she said.
without preliminary greeting, when l
reached her side.
Yes, Pm to meet him at the station
at 3, and come straight to the church. .
her face looked pale, but there was a
brightness In her eyes, and tender
qulyer passed about the mouth that
spoke of renewed happiness.
''Mr. Branbridge begged him so to
stay another night that he had not the
heart to refuse" she went on. He is
SO kind; but wish he hadn't staid."
was at the station at $50. | felt
rather annoyed with John. 1t seemed
sort of Slight to the beautiful girl
who loved him, that he should come. as
it were. out of breath, and with the dust
or travel upon him to take her hand,
which some of US would have given the
best years of our lives to take.
But when the O'Clock train glided in
and gllded out again, having brought no
passengers to our little station, | was
more than annoyed. There was no other
train for tnirty-five minutes. | caIcu-
latedsthat, with much hurry, we might
just get to the church in time for the
ceremony-but, oh, what fool to miss
that first train. What other man could
have done it?
That thlrty-hve minutes seemed a
year. as l wandered around the station
reading the advertisements and the
timetables and the cOmpany's bylaws.
and getting more and more angry with
John Charrington. This confidence in
MS own powers of getting everything he
wanted the minute he wanted it was
leading HIM too far. | hate waiting.
Every one does, but l believe l hate il
more than any one else. The 1886 was
late, of course.
ground my pipe between my teeth.
and stamped with Impotence as !
watched the signals. Click. The sig
nal went down, showing that the train
would not stop, as it had no passengers
for our station. Five minutes later |
tiung myself into the carriage that had
brought for John.
Drive to the churchl'' said, as some
one shut the door: "Mr. Charrington
hasn't come by this train.''
Anxiety now replaced anger. What
had become of the man? Could he have
been taken suddenly ill? / had never
known him to have days illness in his
life. And even so, he might have tele-
graphed. Some awful accident must
heve happened to him. The thought
that he had played her false. never-nO,
not for moment, entered my head.
Yes, something terrible had happened
10 MN, and on me lay the task of telling
MS bride. tell yau, | almost wished
the carriage would upset and break my
head, so that some one else might tell
her, not l, whO-but that's nothing to
do with the story.
1t was 1855 as we drew up at the
church-yard gate. A double row of
eager on-loOkerS lined the path from
lychgate to porch. L sprang from the
carriage and passed up between them.
Our gardener had GOOD front place
near the door. / stopped.
Are they waiting still, Byles?" /
asked, simply to gain time, for of course
L knew they were by the waiting
crowds attentive attitude.
waiting, sir? No, no, sir; why, 1t
must be over by now"
Over Then Mr.. Charrington's
cOme?''
ITO the minute, sir; must have missed
you somehow, and, say, SIR" lowering
his voice, II never see Mr.. John the
least bit so afore, but my opinion is
he's been drinking pretty free. His
clothes was all dusty and his face like
sheet. | tell you'll didn't like the looks
of him at all, and the folks inside are
saying all sorts of things. You'll see,
something's gone very wrong with Mr..
John, ana he's tried liquor. He looked
like ghost, and in he went with his
eyes straight before him, with never a
look or word for none of us; him that
was always such gentleman
L had never heard ByleS make so long
a speech. The crowd in the church
yard were talking in whispers and get
ting ready rice and slippers to throw at
the bride and bridegroom. The ringers