The St. Johns herald., 1891-04-30
MiSsIng-A Husband.

MIi6 dI 1H U ClONh lhhb HUI Aih
 The bridegroom was a successful
 young vine-grower of SonomaCoun
 ty; the bride a daughter of his near
 est neighbor. They had driven of
 to the railway station, followed by
 the good wishes of their combined
 families, and had arrived ill San
 Francisco late in the afternoon.
 Rooms had been reserved for them
 over Sunday, and it was their in
 tention to start for the East on Mon
 day to visit relatives of Mir. Hun
 ter's, and spend the coming months
 in more congenial surroundings
 than the rainy monotony of win
 ter season in the country.
 The usual electrical atmosphere enveloping ordinary bridal couples, discharging the secret of the new ness of the bond to the rude gaze of vulgar world, also betrayed his subtitle presence around this distin- guished and decidedly goodlooking pair. Olga was of Danish extraction and possessed the delicate, refined features, slender shape and stately bearing common to her fellow-coun- trywomen and Marshall had been a university man, and stroke in his college boat before he emigrated to California and took up ranching. At any rate, covert glances allowed their course from the cars to the boat, from the boat to the hotel, and even there the elevatOr-boY beamed and glowed on Olga's un- conscious face, as though he then and there took her under the spec ial protection ofhiS beneficient wing.
 Mrs. Hunter retired behind the eliding-doors 10 move all traces of the dusty journey, while Marshall delved into the mysteries of the travelling bag to bring forth still more immaculate necktie than the one already encirculing his manly | throat. After adjusting it entirely | to bis satisfaction, he stepped on tiptoe to Olgas door and tapped gently. In respond came a futter of light footsteps, and the door glided just far enough back to all low a pretty head to peep out and inquire what was the matter.
 "Only this, darling-I am going down to see about dinner, and tell them not to send all that pile of trunks up here. I may be gone quarter of an hour, but not min ute longer" So saying he took his young wife's face between his hands, gazed fondly into her eyes, and then kissed her full on the lips.
 Flushing and smiling Olga re- treated and in few moments reap peared in the sitting-room fresh as a morning glory. Her husband was still absent, so she made a tour of the room, and by wheeling the table to one side and maneuvering skilfully with some chairs in the way that women do, she contriYed to dissipate the cold, sit-up-straight, lounge-if-you-dare mien assumed by each particular piece of furni- ture that has not been pushed or pulled into it's place by feminine fingers. Some distant footsteps made her poise lightly on one foot by the door to listen if they were her husbands. When they passed by without pausing at the threshold, she walked over to the window and sat down in big easy chair. It was Saturday afternoon, the streets were thronged with people, the traffic was noisy ard vigorous; the lights were being turned on, as it was ; dark. From Olga's point of view limited by a country life to rare { glimpses of human nature as met in a busy city, especially in it's bug zing, teeming centre, this was an ( interesting, expressing sight. She foroot har paw oOnditiO0 of lifa for