The Idaho Republican. [volume] (Blackfoot, Idaho) 1904-1932, 1904-11-18

married from your own house: ana
such would have been my wish, too,
except that by being married here I
can give pleasure to large number
OF the students who are dear to ine,
and who could NIT possibly come to
New York. Nor over, II / were mar
ried from your house simple wed.
ding would be almost out of the CUES.
ton, and neither Winiam nor would
like fashionable ceremony. Butt If
you would prefer it otherwise, we shall
give up our own preferences. And
now, dear Uncle Harold, let me thank
you from the bottom Of my heart, and
thank Aunt Emma, too, for all the
love and kindness you have lavished
on me-love and kindness greater
tnan which you could not have shown
to any child. Indeed, feel myself to
be your child, and 1t is with the assur-
ance that you feel similarly toward me
that sign myself
Your loving
ELEANOR"
Harold folded up the letter with
beaming expression, but tears in his
voice restrained him from speaking
for a few moments; then he said, hap.
PLY:
what do you think Of that?"
II am not trying to think of It," EN-
ma replied in q sepulchral tone. i
suppose you will aid and abet her, as
usual?"
ITO the extent Of telegraphing her
my congratulations and high approval
Of everything she has decided upon.
If that is aiding and abetting," he an
swered, seating himself at his desk
and searching for blank.
"She will probably be married be-
fore justice of the peace" groaned
Emma.
Nonsense. What If she is?"
''No proper ceremony; no suitable
dress; no invitations; no wedding.
cake, I dare say" she murmured. as
sac rocked herself to and fro.
"You can send her a wedding cake.
you know" hazarded Harold.
"Some women would be thankful to
be free from the bother Of it all" she
continued, without regard to his re-
mark; but there is right way and
a wrong way of doing everything.
And" she added. with dreary sigh.
IF there is a wrong way, Eleanor
always chooses it. OF course, she can
do as she sees fit, and Of course, when
she comes to New York shall have to
do what can Tor her, Harold, because
she Is your niece; but 1t is perfectly
certain that she and / are fated never
to agree on any possible subject
never-never-never!"
"Poor Cherub!" her husband an
swered, with genuine commiseration,
looking up from the telegram he was
composing, for he. was touched by the
melancholy in her voice. "And yet
I know" he continued, "taat as soon
as she comes here, there is nothing
you will rot do to make her comfort
able and happy.
II suppose I shall be just fool
enough she answered, with mourn
full emphasis.
For some minutes she rocked her.
self with folded arms, while Harold
wrote and rewrote his telegram.
Harold" she said, finally.
"Well, dear?"
II have been thinking what we shall
give them for wedding present. They
will probably get very little silver,
and | think we had better give them
spoons and forks. 1t may take some
time to have them marhed properly,
so the sooner / order them the oe.-
ter
"Just the thing, should say" he
replied, as he rose from the table, and
he stopped to kiss her, exclaiming
with proud fondness: There is no
equal to you, Cherub. in the whole
world"
Emma received his embrace with
pleased complacency. Then she look
ed up at him and said, before reading
the telegram he had dropped in her
lap:
do you know, Harold, sometimes
think that If | had not married you.
you might have done something very
foolish"
MI ~