Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1892-03-19
A. QUAKER LADY.
A STORY OF TO-DAY.
CHAPTER VII.

splendent. The blue canopy of sky was
fieeced with Iace-like trails of white
clouds, and floated across the moons
bright disk, now and then, half conceal
ing her glory; while up from the calm
mirror Of the placid waters the reflection
OF her solemn face at times smiled up at
the two in the boat, idly drifting.
Mr.. Standish had dropped the oars,
and was letting the current carry them
whittier 10 would, while he sat nearer
Phebe and gazed earnestly into the face
opposite him, which had become the
fairest, and listened for the voice which
10 him was now by Gods grace, the one
voice in the world"
he had made his declaration to her, in
earnest, sober words. that were full with
the honest truth OF his love; and he had
asked her to return to England with him
as his wife.
81 cannot say to you that l nave never
loved before, as u younger man might
do, perhaps" he lad sand, finally, 'for it
would not be true. My wife was very
dear to me, and | revere the memory of
the mother OF my children; but ! feel that
love you. Phebe, with all the fervor and
strength of a mans heart: | cannot bear
TO say goodbye, and never see you more;
u NttA W AfihO Nou Diii "lAh L4iO 10 ALf
beloved wife"
Phebe listened in s~ilence; the words
came to her ears as in a dream, il was all
30 new and unexpected and strange. No
n had ever told her they loved her be-
fore, and yet, like unto those who
dream" it seemed neither surprising nor
wonderful that this man should say the
words. 1t was as though she had known
it all her life.
She had had, as most girls have, her
own thoughts and theories about love
and marriage, but she had not believed
ii possible that the divine passion could
| spring into life like this, full grown and
without warning; IL was incredible. she
argued, that q man almost unknown to
her when the same NOON, not sailing
round and full in the sky above them,
was but a slender, shadowy crescent
that this man should now be so near and
dear that the very thought Of parting
between them seemed painful!
Marriage had seemed the consumnla-
Ton Of q long-tried conpanionable friend
ship; and now she felt that she was ready
! to say to this stranger: Whittier thou
goest, / will go; thy people shall lie my
people; thy God. my God" The won
derful strength Of the revelation awed
her.
He waited patiently, watching the
! girls face stirred by the multitude Of
new thoughts and feelings that surged in
her bosom. The clouds had all passed
over the sky now, and the moons light
was as clear and brilliant as day. They
had drifted into a little bay near the
shore where a little bed Of water-lilies
lay sleeping in a mass of leaves and
tangled stems. Phebe's hand hung down
] over the boat side and trailed along in
the water. She seemed unconscious of
it, until 2 long, protesting-lily stem twist
ed itself and caught her wrist, and the
boat suddenly stopped and rocked from
side to side. She looked, reused from
her reverie then, and met his dark eyes
fixed upon her, They were entreating.
Come, Phebe," he urged, in low, fer
vent tones, lyon have non to leave be
hind. Come TO my home, ing life, neg
heart!" And he took the cold, dripping
little hand and wrist and held them in
his own warm, strong grasp.
She made no resistance, but seemed
powerless TO answer him in speech. She
was timid and dumb with the trembling
new fear and Joy that overwhelmed her.
| He saw and understood the contest going
on in her maiden mind and nature, and
| he waited, watching each emotion as IL
glowed and paled upon her fair face.
"No," she was saying 10 her startled
alter ego. mo, he is right: there is no
| one who would care for me, TO cave be-
hind, and | can go into his life and home
with ALI my heart" Her eyes met his
----sl- --T-~-+ lob nf oanapiata
surrender, and he drew her to him gently.
The moon looked down from the sky,
and the noon looked up from the lake,
and both smiled a dual happy benedic-
ton on their betrothal embrace.
Later, rowing ~homeward, they passed
a gay boat-load Of haif-grown boys, who
were smoking and singing wild baccha-
nalian songs. Phebe felt a sudden
twinge of conscience as the remembrance
of the resolution she had SO earnestly de-
clared, only the night before. flashed
| through her mind. She had said she
would return to her boys with the strong
| determination 10 devote the rest of her
life in her endeavors to help them TO be
good, true. pure men, and she had meant
every word she uttered; and now-she
had given her solemn promise to cross
the ocean with this man she had known
but one month, and leave her boys for
ever! She sighed at thought of the vari-
abieness and deceitfulness Of the human
heart.
What! a sigh already? Have you a
regret" asked her lover, smiling at her
half r~eproachfully.
II was thinking Of my boys" she an
rwered, clasping her hands together, and
! continuing earnestly: "Oh, l meant to
10 so much for them; indeed, ! meant to.
{ thought as teacher | mi hit instil into
heir minds and hearts such lessons and
principles as they should never forget as
| men: il seemed a work / was somehow
oeremptoriIy called to do; and now-@
There was a tone OF utter despair in her
goice.
ssMy own dear Donna Quixote," cried
Dir. Standish in a lovers happy tone, and
smiling down tenderly at the troubled
| face beside him, ''your boys are legion
| hfty at least, and it would be an almost
| vain work to attempt to educate them all
up to your high standard. Think OF nag
~boys-there are only two-and a m quite
sure you will DC able to train them in the
way they should go. Phebe, | feel that
| have asked OF you a great deal, TO be
mother to my boys as well as TO be my
| wife, but they two are dearer to ME than
your fifty ear possibly be to you, ana
they need you as much as 1 do! ihink
| of all | ask you, dear, and remember 1
love YOU: and then" he laid down his
oars and put out both his hands, ''then,
| Yield myself up, my hopes and thine are onet
Lay thy sweet hands Ia mine and trust to me-
When the two ladies In the summer
| house stepped outside to meet the couple
| slowly sauntering up the hill in the dusk,
| Mrs. Murry's sharp eyes pierced the dark
ness sufficiently TO see the willing hands
still captive.
s'She has accepted himr' she whispered,
| tr~iumphantly, behind her fan.
"How can you tells' queried Mrs. Nor