The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1896-04-22
MarjOrie's Wedding Journey.

1t was the day before the one ap-
pointed for the marriage ceremony.
Marjorie Tate, the soon-to-be bride,
was in her own room in the full enjoy
ment' of receiving gifts. Her older,
married and fashionable sister, who,
five years before, had gone through the
same rush of preparation to meet the
"dear five hundred" guests, now
lounged and criticised indifferently
from the depths of an easy chair. Lilias
Crombie, first bridesmaid, and only one
season out" was ecstatic.
Here is another butter knife, the
fifth, isn't it, Marjorie? Flossie Farwell
had sixteen sugar spoons, and sixty
eight souvenir spoons. Another orange
spoon; you and Mr.. Lathrop will need
steady diet of that fruit to give all
turn"
"When was married." came voice
from the easy chair, our presents were
all on exhibition, and mine just filed
room. l thought it was very fine
then, but they're only nuisance now.
And, do your best, somebody'll be sure
to have something more elegant before
the year is out"
Here's something, Marjorie, unique
from the last century," and Lilas held
out to her friend small, old-fashioned
envelope, directed in cramped chirog-
raphy.
Whom in the world can this be
from, mamma?" Marjorie asked of the
sweet-faced matron who had joined the
group.
"Open, dearie, and see," with the
tender ring to her words mothers give
who are sending their daughters half
continent away from them.
"Sure enough, you most sensible
mamma! Oh! it is Aunt Hannah, your
auntie, mamma; and have not seen
her since 1 was little girl! Here's the
letter:
Dear Grand Niece:-When 1 received the
invitation to your wedding Ibid you send
one, thoughtful mammaO it caused me to
realize how the years are passing by with
us. Your dear mother, whom 1 knew and
cared for as a little girl, is now turning
toward the evening Il presume Aunt Han
nah thinks OF you as wearing caps, o lovely
mammaD and her daughters are assuming
responsibilities of active life.
l have boxed and forwarded to you a
small wheel upon which your great-grand-
mother spun the linen for many hundred
yards of sheeting and table-cloths. They
tell me girls consider them great curiosties
time of their wedding and honeymoon a
time to drop out of all duties, and thought
for others. hope you are not that kind
wish you joy in your new relation.
Years ago invited you to visit me on
your wedding journey. II it would give
you pleasure to come and see plain old
woman in the home Of your mothers child
hood, l should be glad to welcome you and
mother and family. Your affectionate aunt
HANNAH GIBSON.
"The ideal" from the easy chair.
"What funny letter." from the
girl on the floor. Marjorie's eyes were
thoughtful.
Sam that kind of girl, mamma?"
she asked quietly, and just then her
hand touched the silver cross at her
waist. She had put that on while away
at school, and wore it in sight still in
spite of protests.
Where are you going?" came now
from the easy chair. "NewpOrt, L
suppose first, OF course, to the Harri-
man fete. Then where? We went
abroad, you know. That was the fad
then. 1 didn't care where. All /
wanted was to be where Henry was.
We had our first quarrel in Venice.
That was the end of the honeymoon,
suppose. All homogeneous end some
where"
"Do they, mamma2" Marjorie said
softly. She liked to think things were
going to last and to believe in things
with her whole heart.
All day Marjorie went about among
the busy preparations with questions
ing, thoughtful air.
"Bierce," she said that night ns the
lovers fingered in the aisle of palms
that was to be the bridal way, P" Where
are we going?"
Where you wish, of COURSE" was
the answer.
Then she read her letter, adding
- Now it would make Aunt Hannah
happy to see us there, and, Bierce, il
does not seem quite right that our wed
ding journey, when l am 30 happy my
self, should be the only time have M
thought for Others"
The earnest, manly face was grave
now.
"Thank you, dearest. You are right
/, too, have friends among the New
England hills to whom / am under obi
cations, and have thought many time