Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1897-06-17
J My MOther=in=LaW. ;
BY JENNY WREN.

fly with quick steps TO the library to see
the handsome head raised from his
work of writing with some word of love
on his lips, when now only an empty
chair and soundless space hereafter
would prove my greeting. His illness
had been so short, so sudden, that it
almost seemed as though l should
awaken from the frightful nightmare
of the past few weeks and find it all a
dream, vivid but unreal Only fort
night before he had been stricken down,
and l had sent in hot haste for my old
practitioner, to find him absent and
stranger in his place. At first felt
regret, but when l saw DIR. Phillips and
witnessed his earnest, skillful care, that
feeling gave way to congratulation and
the assurance that if human skill could
avail, he would be saved. 1t was he
who told me finally there was no long
er hope; he whom / turned upon with
quick fury that he should dare assert
that nv fathers life was in absolute dam
ger, when in all the wide world we two
were alone together; he who stood be-
side him at the last, then. with firm
gentle hand, drew me from the chamber
of death and himself prepared the
sleeping draught which sent restful
sleep TO quiet my strained nerves. In
my new sadness, my utter despair, he
came and went as of old, until 1t
seemed as though a brothers protec-
ton had been offered me. and began
to wait and watch for the hour when
/ should see him, to feel keen disaP-
pointment if it passed without him,
until one evening. sitting alone by the
low, smoldering fire in the first day of
spring, 1 was reused by his familiar
step.
Helen" he said, drawing a chair
close beside me, DIR. Edwards. you
know, has returned. and my own pa
tients in Philadelphia are demanding
my presence among them. L have
stayed already longer than intended"
"And you now are going?" 1 ques-
toned, while a black cloud swept be-
fore my eyes.
Yes he answered, "but if you Will
let me, I am coming back. l did not
mean to tell you of my love just yet.
/ can hardly hope that in all the drear
desolation which has overspread your
life, love had found time to plant
single germ, but with me it has been
different. 1 have loved you from the
first moment l saw you, and my fondest
ambition is to see you my wife. Do
not answer me now; only when the
birds sing and the flowers bloom try
to think they breathe a message from
me, and when 1 return in the fall, re-
member my home will have been made
ready for you, and if you can come to
my arms, they will open, oh, so gladly!
to receive you"
So he left me, and let him go with
no answer, for did not know my own
heart. That it was love beating at its
portals for admission-love which had
made his coming so welcome, his going
so sad, could not realize until he had
gone; and then came only the long.
brotherly letters, so full of earnest solic-
itude for my comfort, so unselfish in the
careful guard ever shown in his own
feeling for me, till the time drew nigh
when he was to come again. Then
doubt, uncertainty. all fed, and knew
my heart had passed from out of my
keeping. So / went to meet him, stand
ing in the open door of my home as he
came up the pathway, and in answer TO
his question as for moment he held me
off while he looked straight into my
eyes: Helen, is this my wife," L
could only falter: yours forever
more" q
The succeeding week few swiftly by.
He suddenly grew impatient of delay,
and declared he could not go back to his
work until L went with him. The
thought of my loneliness without him
urged me to consent, and so the days
were filled with busy preparation, while
in the evenings l sat by his side, content
and blissful, while he told me of his
home, of his wiG5~ed mother who
shared it, and of the new, sweet daugh-
ter he was to bring her. But when all
was over, when L had stood in my we'd
ding robes before the gray-haired min
lister. and knelt to receive for the last
time his blessing, when my husbands
first rapturous kiss had been pressed
upon my lips, fervent congratulations
offered by the few friends present at
our quiet wedding, my wedding dress
exchanged for travelling garb, the long
journey at last over, it was with feel
the dusk of the evening drew up before
a handsome house, and my husband
" welcomed me to my home. But where
was his mother? All day visions had
danced before my eyes of two loving
arms waiting to enfold me, of sweet, |
motherly face bending over me to i'm
print the kiss of greeting on my cheek, |
of the whispered words: Welcome, nv
daughter" sounding in my ear; but no;
the door was thrown wide open by a |
servant in livery. but the handsome hall |
in its long vista presented to sight no |
other occupants, and, to my amazement. |
was hurried past the elegant drawing |
room, where L caught sight of n cheer |
full fire burning on the hearth. and up |
stairs into my own luxuriously fur
nished apartments.
And how does my bird like her
nest?" questioned my husband. bend !
ing over me with tender care as 1 sank |
exhausted into a chair
so much, Hugh, that she feels as /
though she must stay here forever. Nav
not have tea here to-night?''
'Oh. darling, mother would be so dis
not to see you! Come, change /
your dress and look your prettiest. that /
l may present you to her.
Change my dress! Even tonight. in /
the quiet home circle, must remove nv /
dust-stained garb and go through the /
eXertion of a fresh toilet ere my hus-
bands mother extended to me her well /