The Wilmington daily Republican. (Wilmington, Del.) 1890-1902, 1897-04-26
ATTHE CHURCH DOOR,

When he started west from New York,
be said he was glad he was going to get
home In the autumn.
That indicated a radical change Of SON.
timent During his five years sojourn
abroad he had frequently pictured his
home coming, and these charming VI
Rnettes and pastels were invariably tinged
with the brightness of the springtime
His was an imaginative temperament, and
he had reveled In dreams Of triumphal
marches through avenues and drives where
tender leaf and opening bud and fragile
bloom, all radiant with the perfume Of q
newly awakened earth. nodded and smiled
at him from eithor side, while admiring
friends thronged round him with adula-
ton and praise In recognition of the fame
and honor he had won 1t was In that
season of the year that he had gone away,
and his fancy had evoked beatifc visions
of reunion with old friends In whose
company his genius should shine forth re-
splendent In contrast with their mediocre
attachments. They had been inspired by
no such heaven born aspirations as he, and
1t was only fair to presume that they had
not passed the half way point Of the ladder
ON whose topmost rung he was securely
He had intended to come back the spring
after his pictures met with such decided
SUCCESS in three European capitals, but his
sister frustrated his plans.
II am going to California for several
MONTHS" she wrote. Don't come until
fall"
The long anticipated home coming was
gloomy enough to suit even his tastes,
which delighted In those extremes of life
that unite to form harmonious whole.
There had been binding dasbes and fur
ries of snow during the morning. By
noontime those sudden outbursts Of the
storm had been superseded by a strong,
steady wind that shrieked and whistled up
and down streets and alleys and whipped
into the faces of pedestrians the millions
of sharp pointed icy needles that leaked
out now and then from the leaden sky.
Then, he had loft New York two days
sooner than he had planned, and his sister,
who made all her arrangements according
to schedule time, had gone out Of town for
a few days. Consequently the telegram
which no had sent prior to his departure
had failed to fulfill Its mission. There
was no carriage awaiting him at the depot,
and the hired cab deposited him before
house whose pretty mistress had flown and
taken the spirit of hospitality with her.
At 8 o'clock he found himself in tho
rooms Of a young man who had been his
boon companion In days gone by. That
gentleman had been laid up with rheuma-
tism for several weeks, and having been in
no condition to read or to receive visitors
he had but little to tell, but he was more
than anxious to listen to recital of the
achievements and plans Of the other.
The young artist was reticent at first.
Presently the chimes of ST. Andrews pealed
out once more, and with their music came
desire to break through the barrier of re-
serve he had built round him after going
abroad and to talk freely with some one
"Ah, the chimesr' he said, stepping to
the window which commanded q view of
the church near by. "They do my heart
good. Somehow their notes seem vibrant
with sadness today, but for all that they
are welcoming me home And what mem
cries they awakenl Do you ever see Mary
ConoverP I wonder il she Is organist
there nowp''
~ think she is," said tho rheumatic
sufferer feebly
"You asked me a moment ago." said
the artist, "what was my main object in
coming home. I'll tell you. l have never
acknowledged 1t to myself before. In fact,
I don't know that 1t has ever been clearly
defined. I think the playing of the chimes
must have cleared my brain Of cobwebs
just now and brought out my objects and
desires clear cut as cameo l came home
to marry Mary Conover."
"To marry Mary ConoverP" repeated the |
rheumatic blankly, why, didn't know |
you were engaged"
"We're not, and never were But I'm
going to marry her." And the artist |
smiled. "You see, 1t was just like this: |
had always admired Mary, and before 60
ing away I was on the point of proposing |
marriage, but after due consideration de- |
oided that 1t was wiser to remain unfetter-
ed. I looked at it in this way: 1 knew
that with proper study and application my
future would be u creditahle one In 9TH
or words, knew that l had 1t In me to |
reach the summit of success and that
wealth, fame and power would be mine
And didn't know whether Mary Conover
would be fit mate for me when attained i
all that. She was always the dearest, best
and sweetest girl the Lord ever let live, but
she was such simple, quiet little thing
biuU UHOuBnJ lllBuu ALu ~ pOiluy w
choose somebody better qualified to do
honor to my station. 1t has taken me years
to find out, but at last realize that there
Is no other woman like Mary Conover. 1t
makes no difference what else I may have,
without her life will be incomplete The
probation must have been pretty hard for
her, forced as she has been to conceal her
emotions, but won't keep her in suspense
much longer. Hellol There's something
going on over at the church. think III
go over and slip inside and sec how the old
place looks"
When he reached the streets, the chimes
rung out tho opening strains of "Lohen-
grin" and through the windows of the car
riage that had been driven up close to the
curb he could see that the bride had come.
The unlimited guests still retained their
places waiting to catch one glimpse of the
bride.
And presently she came.
Half an hour later he went up to his
friond's rooms.
II staid away too long," he said. II
made mistake A woman can't wait for |