The commercial. (Union City, Tenn.) 190?-193?, 1902-04-18
THE NIGHT BEFORE.
BY ADA S. COOKE.

-
) closed, and to-morrow's bride sighed
YEARLY.
Those stupid preparations-thost
/ chattering girls, their minds so full
of the snowy gowns and velvet hats
of to-morrow's pageantry, the sadly
, interested faces of the father, mother
and sisters as they had sat in the Ii
brary after the late dinner, the fam
!; lily circle complete for the last time
in many months!-for she and Rob
ert would see the continent before
the honeymoon waned. The CONT
nent! What did she care for the con-
tinent!
She loathed the thought Of railway
porters, Of officious guides, of the tur-
MOL and excitement Of a tour through
a strange country! She could see her
self now, she fancied, sickened of for
eign sights; strolling aimlessly
through endless galleries and anti
quated piles with Robert-for Rob-
ert was thorough-he would wish to
omit nothing. They must see all
those things the cosmopolitan man
and woman is expected to be familiar
with Not that he himself cared for
the opinion of people who were moth
ing to him-he was of too broad and
cultured a mind for that mark Of the
paryenue and underbred- but it was
one of his pet theories to make the
most of opportunities; to be constant
ly charging ones mental vision; to
let each minute, every object, every
new acquaintance, with men Of cir
cumstances, mean some broadening of
the mind. She knew it to be an ad-
mirable theory. She loved him for
this very thoroughness of character,
so different in nature to her own dila-
tory self.
But she didn't want to travel.
What was wrong with her that she
didn't? She knew the healthy mind
grasps eagerly at new objects and their
attendant train Of suggested new
thoughts. Why, how she and Evan
geline used to spend hours planning
imaginary tours through the Lon
don of Dickens, through the quaint
and rocky little towns Of Wales,
through provincial France and Ger
many, living as peasants, trying to
think as peasants, that they might
grasp the very essence of each coun-
try's life. Then Paris, beautiful, mad
Paris! they would be Parisians; there
would be no sun save that of Paris
while they fingered in her bounds.
And Italy-Rome at midnight, Ven
ice-with her whispering waters and
her romance-then Egypt-Cairo!
How beautiful it had all seemed in
those schoolgirl days! What had
come over her that familiar objects
had seemed the only ones worth
knowing?
Recently, at receptions, at dinners,
at musicales, she had found herself
shrinking almost visibly from intro
auctions she would have met gladly
a year ago in that they opened up
fresh avenues Of study. Now she
wanted nothing but her familiar room
with its familiar furniture, bric-a-
brac and books-those friends of hers
she had tried and not found wanting
and a quiet daily routine Of life.
She looked into the future and saw
herself stripped of ambition and
higher aspirations, stoical, Indifferent
to everything save the minute, liv-
ing in it, a monotonously calm and
placid matron.
This state of things was coming
about. She knew it. She had felt it
tonight when her fathers eyes had
filled with tears as ne had drawn her
down to the arm Of his chair and strok-
ing her hair, had called her ellis lit
tie Ray" Her eyes had remained
bright and fearless, she had felt an
noyance at such emotion on his part.
Then-the other afternoon, that sun
set she had watched from her window.
How the great rose-hued clouds had
drifted across the west-like so many
ships Of hope and brightness they