Atlanta Georgian. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1912-1939, 1914-02-13
Twenty-seventh Chapter.

\ s my wedding day approached
~ and time run short, the air of
joy which had pervaded our
house was driven out by an atmos-
phere of irritation. We were all liv-
Ing on our nerves. The smiles that
used to be at everybody's service gave
place to frowns, and. in Aunt Bril-
gets case, to angry words which were
distributed on all sides and on all &C.
casions.
AS consequence | took refuge III
my room, and sat long hours there in
my dressing gown and slippers, hear
ing the hubbub that was going on in
the rest of the house, but taking as
little part in 1t as possible. In this
semi-conventual silence and solitude,
l began to think, and above all to
feel, and the one thing l felt beyond
everything else was a sense of some
thing wanting.
| remembered the beautiful words
Of the Pope about marriage as mys-
tic relation, a sacred union of souls.
bond of love such as Christ's love
for His Church. and asked myself
if l felt any such love for the man
who was to become my husband.
I knew / did not. l reminded my
self that / had had nearly no con-
versation with him, that our inter
course had been of the briefegt, that
had seen him only tree times al
together, and that scarcely knew
him at all.
The Martins.
And yet l was going to marry him!
In a few days more should be his
wife, and we should be bound to-
gether as long as life should lasti
Then remembered what Father
Dan had said about a girls first love.
her first love-letter, and all the
sweet, good things that should come
to her at the time of her marriage.
None Of them had come to me. \
do not think my thoughts of love
were ever disturbed by an expecta-
ton of the delights of the heart
languors of tenderness, long en-
braces, signs and kisses, and the joys
and fevers of the fiesh-for / knew
nothing about them. But, neverthe
less, asked myself IL l had mistaken.
the matter altogether. Was love
really necessary? In all their busy
preparations neither my father, nor
my husband, nor the lawyers, nor
the Bishop himslf, had said anything
about that.
1 began to sleep badly and to
dream. 1t was always the same
dream. I was in a frozen region of
the far north or south, living In a
ship whicfs was stuck fast irfahe ice,
and had a great frowning barrier be-
fore it that was full OF dangerous
o. r
wanted to write letter, but was I'M
trodden on my pen and broken II.
1t seems strange to me now, as l
look back upon that time, that l did
not know what angel was troubling
the waters of my soul-that Nature
was whispering to me, as 1t whis
pers to every girl at the first great
crisis Of her life. But neither did I
know what angel was leading my
footsteps when, three mornings be-
fore my wedding-day l got up early
and went out to walk in the crisp, |
salt air.
Almost without thinking l turned
down the lane that led to the shore, |
and before l was conscious of where
was going. l found myself near
Sunny Lodge. The chimney was
SAiOhAliS LOi anu tIlSic was
a smell of burning turf coming from
the house, which was so pretty and |
unchanged, with the last of the years
roses creeping over the porch and
round the windows Of the room in
which ! had slept when child.
Somebody was digging in the gar
den. 1t was the doctor in his shirt |
sleeves.
Good morning, DOCTOR" l called, I,
speaking over the fence.
He rested on his spade and looked |
up, but he did not speak for a mo-
ment.
Don't you know who I ann" I
asked.
Why yes, of course; you must
be ."
without finishing he turned his
head towards the porch and cried:
Mother! Mother! Come and see
who's here at last!"
Martins mother came out Of the
porch, little smaller, thought, but |
with the same dear womanly face
over her light print frock, which |
was as sweet as May blossom.
II