The Saint Paul globe. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1896-1905, 1900-06-16

West he was known as the catch" of
Oakdale.
In the first place he was very handsome;
| then he was very wealthy, and finally he
was irreproachably connected, and as the
! most wary young lady of Oakdale said
there was nothing disagreeable about
him
But the squire had his idiosyncrasy-his
| hobby. 1t was health. He had uttered q
VOW never to marry woman who was
not perfectly healthy.
Most people thought OafdaIe's girls
buXom and blooming enough. but the
squlre's observant eyes saw erysipeias I'm
burning cheeks. consumption in narrow
shoulders. dropsy in plump forms 1t was
only when he beheld Gladys Ray that this
eXacting man was satisfied and enthusi-
astic.
She had just come from years STAY
with her grandparents in New York, and
was barely sixteen. Pretty-wel. that is
no word for 1t. She was just as lovely as
neW-bloWn rose. And she was as good
as she was pretty and as loving as she
was good. and every one would have seen
1t was out of the question for her to
marry Squire Harding, a worldly man OF
forty, with a shrewd eye for the main
chance.
She was Just as Unselfsh as a sunbeam,
as 1mpulsive as a kitten. as guileIess as
a violet and cared nothing for the POSI-
ton Squire Harding could offer his wife
She never knew what to say to him when
he came to Clematis cottage, as her home
was called-was afraid of his bass voice
and shy Of his facetiOusness, and yet he
came and came, and her father encour-
! aged his suit. and Gladys was told she
| must agree to marry him
Must, because business was dull and
there was a mortgage on Clematis cot
tage and there was no sense In a girl re
fusins such a chance. OF course she
| would never have another Ike it In a life
time.
She had no mother but her brothers
protested. telInk he rthat she was a
goose, and at last the Door girl was
harassed into making a half promise that
perhaps some time she would"
But her father at once set I'm motion
preparations for the wedding and sent for
| Aunt Phoebe
Aunt Phoebe was an uucOmmonIy skill
| full needlewoman, but what was more in
| Gladys case. she was a person with a
! heart
One morning she went into Gladys
| chamber and found the girl hastily put
! ting away a letter-a letter postmarked
| New York, and directed TO herself I'm the
! boldest and haudsomest OF chirography
! Having put the letter under lock and key.
! Gladys turned silently to be measured for
| a new embroidered waist.
Are you tired. Gladys" Aunt Phoebe
asked
| "A little" replied the girl.
Didn't you rest well last night?'
| ''NOt very"
Gladys you are my dear dead sisters
| TaTI mo VIII AZ M
"Oh, aUude, my heart aches"
! And she put her face on the broad.
| womanly shoulder and burst into tears.
There. there, dearie! ] knew It was u
| heart trouble. Tell auntie all about It.
I don't believe you want to marry Squire
| Harding"
| 81 DON'T don'tr sobbed Gladys
Then you shan't marry him, I'll put
| a stop to. this work. sure as my name
! is Phoebe Ray. ! don't know how now.
| but I win"
! One morning she presented herself at
| Squire Hardin2s door. and was shown
! into his private room. where he received
| his clients.
sit down madam-sit down" said the
The subject of my call is my niece"
| "Ahi"
Yes. I suppose you will he deeply
! interested in this"
"Certainly-certainly Anything which
! concerns my pretty little Gladys, All.
that is an uncommon girl, Mrs. Ray-so
| gentle, so fair so healthy"
"Ahem!' croaEed Aunt Phoebe. oml-
noUsly.
What. dear Mrs Ray. Is not Gladys
! weH?"
Far from IT,"
you amaze me. Has some outrage
! Gus disease approached that lovely girl?"
Aunt Phoebe shook her head and sol
! emnly said:
! Chronic"
"What-what Is it,"
~ heart troublew pronounced Aunt
| Phoebe. solemnlY. ''What the poor
| child suffers from it no words can tell"
yes, yes! Well, now, my dear lady.
what course ought / to pursue under
| these remarkable circumstances? with
/ my peculiar views on the subject OF
! health-my very decided yieWs-I really
cannot be expected to proceed as Tiff
/ the circumstances were different"
| 81 don't know anything about that. 1
! cannot advise YOU. But I feel as If 1 had
! done my duty"
But I-can ! honorabiy retract? Can
I withdraw from my proposal?"
| My brotheF-in-laW is Of a very chOl-
! eric temper; / cannot say But you
| might be called away"
Il am called away. 7 have urgent
! business in Liverpool, and 7 am the man
! who should be on the spot. no Indirect
| agency viii avail. l shall 60 abroad at
| once. Mrs Ray And Miss GIadys-he
IS very pretty-no doubt may supply my
| place I'm the course Of year, with some
! one whO-who has not the peculiar and
very decided views on health that I hold.
! And yOu-since you seem a lady Of Un-
/ common sense and superior ideas Of the
| fitness Of thinga-WilI perhaps use your
| influence TO ITO"
! Certainly. to smooth my uiece's path
| way, Of course"
| So the conversation came practically to
! an end. and two days later the squire
| sailed fer Liverpool The news came
! TO the Rays like a thmderbOlt, for The
| father and son had prospcctiyely secured
a large slice Of the good fortune from
! Gladys wedding The rich squire But
| he was gOne-for year or more. report
| said-and after furious and senseiess
| anger AGAINST Gladys, the poor girl was
! left in peace.
! When Aunt Phoebe went home to her
! quiet seaside dwelling at Rapport she
! took Gladys with her on a Visit, and one
| day she privately wrote a letter % Dick
! Archer. who she had learned through
! Gladys grandfather was a most prom
/ Using young man.
| The result Of this letter was 10 bring
| the young gentleman also TO BaypOrt on
| a visit and tbe young people had plenty
of time IN which to plight their VOWS
! and take wise counsel with good Aunt
! Phoebe
| Through her influence Archer was soon
! prOsperUusiy established In life, and now.
] her