The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1903-02-04
CHAPTER xXEII.

agreed uncle Sam.
CHAPTER xXEII.
EUREKA.
What Is time? The past LaS gone
and cannot De recalled; tn, present ID
here. tut imperfectly under u con-
troll; tie future NO man knows. Is
there another subject which mankind
| regards in ways co numerous and d.
verse as time. the most generic ond
indefinite Of terms? Only for the mis-
cradle wretch condemned to die on an
appointed day do the ieetiIg hours ex-
pire with maddening rapidity; to the
| sufferer from any other form Of torture
| they drag their course with most c.
a~sperating slowness. 1t is the privilege
| Of the perfectly happy III indeed there
be any SUCH ard the perfectly foolish
(cf whom everyone must surely know
abundant examples) to disregard time.
The week which elapsed between y
return to New York and my marriage
to Constance seemed to me Of super
naturally long duration. Love Is im-
patient, and dressmakers and millirers
monopoaizing. Though living in the
same house as my afianced wife. /
now saw very little Of her; she was
nearly always engaged IN being meas
ured, or fitted, or experimental upon In
some way by a contingent Of French
modistes, who came every day to the
house and disorganized all its Gus
tomary arrangements. OF the numer-
GUS dresses being prepared for my wife,
though I had heard q good deal about
them, 4 was not for the present per-
mitted to see one: but I would have
endured that privation without muir.
muring II the, cornpanionship Of my
dear Constance had been spared to me.
However, all things come to those
who w~ait-unless death comes first and
captures the walters. in which case the
latter escape from their wants. Mans
comfort Is not more dependent upon
events than upon their convenient &C.
quence, q course often dif1cult to ".
cure.
At last the wedding morning came
and I was almost happy. All. that
word almost! Has the man yet lived
Of whom 1t can be truthfully said that
he was quite happy? Long and varied
experience makes me doubt It. With
health, youth and strength; 100000 to
my credit at Drexel's; and a beautiful
girl, m~agnihcently lowered. for my
wife; for what more could I wish, you
ask. why. for my fathers presence
this day. and his approval Of the life
long contract I was about to make.
Somehow l could not keep from think
ing Of my father on this my wedding
morning: and as I waited with uncle
Sam and q small party Of his friends
in the Presbyterian Church on Fifth
avenue. where the ceremony was to
take place, the old church mt Holden
hurst, its unlikencss to the sacred
buili:ng wherein I was, my fathers
lonely life low that I had left him.
and the probable effect Of the recent
tragedy upon hin and my grandfather
Wolsey. largely engaged ny mind.
despite all efforts I could make -
disregard them; until the organ, peal
ing forth the soul-stlrring strains Of
Mendelssohn's Wedding March, an
nounced the arrival of the bridal party,
and my dear Constance. almost com-
pletely hidden in white sossamer-like
tabilimeats api attended by six maids,
passed slowly up the church.
OF the events between TINT moment
and the conclusion Of the ceremony.
when we all left the church. I for q
long time retained only a confused
and general recollection; but finally
the particulars Of the ceremony took
shape in ny mind. and now ! can
clearly recall the tall. commanding
form and the clear. impressive voice
Of the grand old fisherman. the oficiat-
ing minister Of the church; end my uE-
easy glances ut uncle Sam (whOm I
had never seen In such a place before),
and my fear lest he should create q
diversion by some eccentric conduct.
Not until after the wedding party
was assembled at breakfast did uncle
Sam give rein to his usual pleasantly.
and then to no very great extent. /
remember he inquired. across the tnDlc.
what ny wife and l thought Of the
reverend gentleman's toots.
Think Of the reverend geptlcnan's
boots" I echoed IN surprise. Really
l didn't observe them. Did you, Con.
mic. DEAR?
Not very particularly" s%ta,a.1erel
my wife. Intellectually e~ndeavorins to
suppress q laugh.
why. how a you say that!" asked
uncle Sam. "The reverend doctor
wears the largest boots in New York.
as many rash wagerers know to their
cost: and l observed you both sntently
contemplating their dimensions willie