Sturgis advertiser. (Sturgis, Dakota [S.D.]) 1887-1???, 1891-08-27
A BRIDES DISCOVERY.

going on in all circles lately, from Tom
the Tinker's to John Jacob Astoris,
some funny and piquant stories have
come to light. These show to the soft
eyed brides that their lords are not the
Leporellos society would paint them.
and yet do not exclusively confine their
attentions to the damsels of high noses
and noble lineages, who grace the Pa
triarchs ball an sit en- evidence in the
front of boxes at the Metropolitan on
holiday nights.
There is one bride who can tell an
interesting little story, which nearly
led to broken engagement the week
before the wedding. Without being q
mllliopairess, she is nicely fixed" Her
parents have a fine house, with an
artistic interior that Cottier overhauls
every other season. The young lady
has saddle-horse of her own, and her
ball-dresses at the opening of every
winter come over from Laferriere and
Pingat. There is real sable lining to
the long, dull-blue cloak she wears over
these radiant CONNECTIONS, and, when
she Is In her war-paint, diamond stars
galore glitter in the masses of her feath.
cry hair that it takes her maid an hour
and half to dress. From all this it
will be seen that she is o person of con-
sideration IN the gay world-one who
knows her value and does not give her.
self to the first young man who asks.
A desirable parti turning up in this
| year-.her third season-she reluctantly
after long courtship, during which
she tormented and fooled the young
lover to her hearts content-consented
to make him the happiest of men. He
was nice fellow and sufficiently well-to-
do. She supposed vaguely-as vaguely
as well-bred young ladies always sup
pose-that he had had his little pleas
ures and pastimes, but these were now
forever passed. No more gay meander-
ings from the broad and garish high
way for Benedict, the married man.
| Benedict thought so, too-.it was going
to be an ideal marriage.
The day was set aud the presents be-
| gan to pour in. Such presents J.
| enough to set up ten poor families for
| life. The fancee went about in a state
of febrile exaltation, opening packages
and Russian-leather boxes, and writing
letters of thanks to all sorts of fine peo-
pile. But, one day, small packet, adj
dressed in a strange hand, was left for
her at the door. When she opened it,
a very fine handkerchief was revealed,
embroidered i'll a delicate design of
marguerites and with her monogram
worked in one corner. With this came
a slip of paper, on which was written,
| in an sFormed hand, From Marguer-
ite."
The tiancee was greatly exercised.
She could not imagine who "Marguer-
tie" was. Mamma thought it must have
been some school friend that she had
forgotten. Eer sister thought is was
ore of the French maids they had had
one of them was called Marguerite, !"
and she used to embroider. too. Her
cousin suggested little air-dresser
they had once employed, when they
lived on Nineteenth street. The fan
Gee said nothing, but looked at the
handkerchief, and pondered and grew
thoughtful and then sullen. She went
downstairs and asked the butler who
had left the packet. He looked as i'm
passive as his position required. and
said young woman-a nice-lot king
young woman, in sailor-hat--a very
nice-looking young woman, with fresh
complexion.
That evening when the fance APP
peared, he was greeted with solemnity,
not to say severity. Then the hand
kerchief was produced simultaneously
with the burning question: "Who is
Marguerite? He was puzzled at first.
Even the angry fiancee, keeping lynx
eyed watch upon him, saw that He
looked at the handkerchief, and the
flowers worked so finely on its delicate
web and then, with flush and sud-
den smile, remembered. Marguerite
came back to his memory as freshly as
ON the first day of their meeting-"a
young woman in saiIor-hat, with a
fre,h complexioni" He laughed at this
description given him by his frowning
sweetheart. 1t must have been the
same sailor hat she had worn last sum-
mer. Marguerite Durand-he remem-
bered her perfectly. And then he told
the story.
It was one evening last summer that
he first saw her. Perhaps the fiancee
would remember that he had gone up
to Bar Harbor to see her, and that she
bad treated him so shabbily, he had,
for very pride's sake, been forced to
leave the day after his arrival. He was
downcast and tired, aud after the days
work it had been a terribly hot day
he was walking down Fifth avenue ia an
aiinless state of hopeless dependency
when he saw Marguerite.
The avenue is deserted of its fashion
able crowd in summer, and at this hour,
| Just shutdown, is full of rusty. out-at-
elbows loungers, who come loafing up
from oil sorts of dingy holes and corners
to take the air and see the deserted
stamping-ground of the swells. Mar
guerite was not exactly one of these,
neither was she lady. The expert
| enced eve OF an old faneur would have
seen that she belonged to the class Of
respectable shop-girls, not ayerse to .
| little amusement, but always careful
and prudent
I In company with another girl. she
was standing looking of picture ex-
hibited in large show window. and there