St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1891-02-15
The BROKEN ENGAGEMENT.
A Careless Speech That Caused
Young Couple Years of Unhappi-
ness.
CHAPTER [.
THE ENGAGEMENT BROKEN.

before the engagement, too, but al
though man seldom quite understands
woman, Tom was even more dense in
this respect than most men, and Eliza
beth, more difficult than most women
for any man to comprehend, uncon-
conscious of the fact, wondered at
Toms many failures in this direction.
They were very good friends, how
ever, and thought they loved each other
had even said so in strict confidence
and, as | said, were engaged to be mar
ried. In fact, Miss Murray was already
at the mercy of dressmakers and millin-
ers, for it was December-late Deem
Der, and the wedding was set for the
10th of January.
One night, the dressmakers and mil
liners having kindly waived their claims
for a few hours. MIR. Barclay called to
see his prospective bride. He was not
in the best possible humor; an ugly east
wind drove the sleet into his face as he
walked the few blocks from the cable
cars to Miss Murray's home, for Tom
thought too much of his horses to take
them out on such a night; man had
failed him in an important business ap-
pointment, and it is quite possible that
he was trifle bilious; at all events he
was about as cross as he ever allowed
himself to become.
Now it happened that Elizabeth was
nearly worn out with the turmoil Incl
dent to the preparations for fashion
able wedding. She was nervous and If
ritable; probably the east wind affected
her also. She needed some one to
smooth her hair. talk tender, comforting
Words-in short. pet her until she was
rested: for the woman never yet lived
who did not like occasional petting.
Now Thomas Barclay was not de-
monstrative man, and petting was some
what out of his line. How was he to
know, especially in his unamiable mood.
that the young girl soon to be his wife
was in no condition to meet Impotence
patiently?
THANK fortune" he said graciously,
kissing her as matter Of course. and
dropping into chair, this dreSsmak-
ing row will soon be over. Eve scarcely
seen you for month. l won't have a
dressmaker on the place after we are
married"
Mr.. Barclay did not mean anything
ny IulS SpttCil, IL Was SluipIy oi Ooulli-
ton of temper, and Elizabeth should
have met it as such; it suited her mood,
however, to retolt with
"Indeed! / mean to have a dress
maker in the house all the time"
81 wouldn't if | were YOU" disagree
ably, respectfully against my Wishes"
"And if shOuld?" she returned, de-
family.
"Well-'' then common sense as
serted itself, and he laughed. ''Do you
know, Beth, we are Just ready to quar-
rel about nothing? My wife will prob
ably do as she pleases."
Miss Murray did nat smile. She was
morbdly sensitive, and an ugly thought
had lodged in her brain. She said
quietly
''Tom, don't like that remark of
yours at all. l wonder If it is possible
that after our marriage you would at
tempt to coerce me In the leaStE'
Tom was obstinate. 1t would have
been better not to have asked the queS-
ton. He said:
"A woman promises to obey when she
MARI les.
Mot always; the word is frequently
left out of the marriage service. 1t
would better be left out of ours"
"Do you mean that you will not
obey?" asked he, looking at her curl
Ously.
"Just that"
"a man is the head of the family; 1t
is wife's duty to obey"
$50 have heard. l never thought of
marriage In this light before-a bond
age. 1t seems to ME that woman's
freedom is something not to be given
up lightly. ] have never been dictated
to since l left school, and do not be-
lieve should take it kindly. Tom, i
don't believe | want to marry you. or
anybody; why" with sudden flash Of
passion. If you laid a command upon
me after our marriage, l really believe
/ should hate you!'
1t crossed Toms mind that it. might
be as we'll for man to curb his temper
until after the wedding day. He rose,
walked across the room, pushed aside
the heavy curtain and looked out. The
prospect was not pleasing; the sky was
black, and the driving sIeet pelted
to where Miss Murray sat looking into
the fire and apparently lost in thought.
elizabeth, | thought you loved me"
did youP' thought SO, too. though
have been told often enough that l
didn't"
"Who told you so?'
mamma, for one, Aunt Clare for an
other You see. mamma married papa,
for love when he was a poor man, and
Aunt Clare'S husband died before the
honeymoon was over. She mournS him
yet. They always said | didn't know
the first principles of love; perhaps they
were right"
MIR. Barclay waS-never so thoroughly
astoniShed in his tWenty-eight years of
life; he asked, rather stiff1y:
Twill you kindly state why you en-
gagged yourself to me?'
"Well. Tom, always liked you.
We've known each other for years. Our
families are intimate. What more nat
ural than that you, the only son, and L,
the ouly daughter, should marry? Be-
Side," with little break in the clear
voice, until tonight l thought you
loved me-"
Tom pulled his chair close to Eliza
beth's and drew her head down to his
shoulder. He ought to have done that
earlier in the exening. Then he said:
"My dear, what possesses you? You
know love you"
For an instant the yellow head rested
where he had placed it; then Miss Mar
ray drew herself away and rose to her
feet.
mo, Tom. it is too late to make me
believe that. We are not fitted to make
each other happy; am quite certain of
it. Let US break off our engagement"
"And all on account of that con-
founded speech Of mine about a dress
makerw he exclaimed Savagely.
"Not entirely that. feel that you do
not love me, and something tells me
that ought not to be your wife,"
Mr.. Barclay, man-like. loved the wom-
an who was slipping away from him at
this moment better than ever before,
and he had loved her always in his way:
he had made e mistake in not showing
his affection more plainly.
Beth" he said, forgive me. didn't