The silver messenger. (Challis, Idaho) 1890-1912, 1908-09-01

9ponslolllty connected with any event
"hlch might have taken place in the
history of the world since chaos took
definite form.
Inc impression she seemed DESTROYS
OF conveying was that, through no
iault OF her own, all well-regulated and
easily understood things had been
swept away and that chaos once more
Telgned supreme, but as yet | was
wholly unenlightened concerning the
situation, save that Constantia had
twice given utterance to the plaintive
eXclamation:
Inc poor, dear bishop-how could
ne let himself be so carried away"
am used to Constantia, it being
now some twenty-odd years since be-
came Mr.. COnstantia, if 1 may so de.
scribe myself, and l was therefore
reasonably sure that if l refrained
from hurrying her into explanations it
would shortly become clear to me not
only by whom the dear bishop had
been carried away, but also whittier
ne had been carried.
Constantia is the best, the most af-
fectionate of wives, and has me on her
mind to perfectly proper extent, but
all that portion of her mind which is
not occupied by me and my affairs is
weighted down with anxiety concern
ing the cathedral, the dear bishop and
the welfare of the diocese.
We are constantly engaged in per-
fecting plans for the health and happi-
ness Of all three, and of late we have
devoted no small portion of our time
and skill to marrying the dear bishop
to Mrs. Peter Cantear, Constantia
being firmly persuaded that this is
eminently desirable no less for the
cathedral and the diocese than for the
dear bishop himself. Of Mrs. Peter
Cantear I can only say that she APP
pears to back Constantia in the mat
ter, the bishop appears quiescent, as
a bishop properly should. The one
disturbing element is Caroline
Caroline is Constantias niece, and
though she is adorable l thank heaven
she is not my niece, or Constantia
would certainly blame me for disturb
ances due to Caroline's vivacious in
luenees.
Vivacity may be carried to a fault,
Constantia says, and Caroline holds as
well some most unorthodoX views,
contending, for example, that bishops
are human, and that Mrs. Peter Can
tear is prim bundle of WORKOUT
platitudes. If Caroline, so pretty, so
brilliant and so gay, may be compared
to anything so disagreeable as a thorn.
I should certainly say she was the one
thorn of Constantia's otherwise salts
factory life.
That Caroline was to blame for the
present crisis | guessed even before 1
was informed, but that Mrs. Peter Can
tear had witnessed the whole affair
was a mischance for which l was I'M
prepared. And then the moon-I
had forgotten that there was a moon,
but, of course, being so, it gave the
thing away with a completeness which
no diplomacy of Constantia's could
ever hope to set straight again. The
stars in their courses fought against
her, and wasn't it precisely like Mrs.
Peter Cantear to be in exactly the
wrong place at exactly the wrong mo-
ment?
l said as much to Constantia, but
learned 1 had misplaced the blame;
but for Caroline, it seemed, Mrs. Peter
Cantear might have been anywhere,
and at any time, without the present
disastrous consequences. Disastrous
was the word, said Constantia, yes,
certainly, disastrous.
1t began, the disastrous circum-
stance, like a great many other un-
fortunate occurrences, in the most
innocent possible way What could
be more harmless than an evening
guild meeting in the parish house,
what more suggestive of good works
and peace of spirit? What could be
more uplifting? 1t evidently so
wrought upon the bishop that he de-
sired a season of peaceful communion
with himself to offset it, and, declining
the offer of Mrs. Peter Cantear's
sleigh to convey him home, he set off
with that youthful elastic step that so
beed his so years and was so entire
" characteristic of the bishop.
The cold, though intense, was brisk
and bracing, the snow gave out that
creaking sound beneath his tread
which we always associate with Christ
mas and with cheeriness, and which
gives to most of us that delicious
nostalgia for the things we left behind
rs with our childhood. The moon
shone over all with an unequaled
brilliance.
"A perfect night" said the bishop.
as he turned to say goodnight
10 Mrs. Peter Cantear; and Mrs.
Peter Cantear agreed. She did not
then know it for a night whose perfec-
tion was to be married for her by
tremendous dint from an unkind fate.
The bishop proceeded without let or
bindrance until he came to the top
of the McVickars hill, down
whose smooth white glistening length
the world and his wife were busily and
merriIy engaged in coasting. Oh, it is
unite the swagger -thing-everyone
is coasting this winter. People give
coasting parties with a little supper
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