The Watertown weekly leader. [volume] (Watertown, Jefferson County, Wis.) 1912-1917, 1916-08-01
CHAPTER XIII.
| Do Not Return Alone.

| country, still unfinished, with gar
den crying for his attention ana
| brook wandering amid the pines, can
| possibly realize how the dust and neat
Of town affected me in the next ten
| days. 1t affected me the more because
| | saw how pale Stella was, how urea
when the evenings came. with ner
wOmans conscientiOusnesS, she was
struggling to do two weeks WORK Id
one before leaving the dictionary. she
even toiled several evenings, denying
herself to me, while wandered dis
| consulate along Broadway, or WorEsu
over my manuscripts at the ciuD, sur
! rounded by siphons of soda. Al the
| luncheon hour and between five and SIX
we shopped madly, getting stair car
pet, dining-room chairs "a present from
| her to herself and me, as she put 1t
| fine Chippendale reproductions, few
| rugs-aS many as we could aHord-
| and other necessary furnishings, In
| Guiding stuff for curtains. For the
| south room the curtains were gay Jap
anese silk from an oriental store, to
| balance the Hiroshiges, and while we
were buying them she slipped away
from me and presently returned, the
proud possessor of two small ivory ele-
| plants.
"Look, somebody has sent US another
PRESENT. she laughed. Folks are so
good to us! These are to stand on the
twin mantels, under the prints"
.sFrom whom are they?' I asked.
your best friend and my worst enc
N.Y." she answered.
For three days after she left the Of
| flee of the dictionary l saw little of
| her. "There are some things you can't
| buy for me-or with me-" she smiled.
Then we went down together to the
city hall for our license, sneaking In
| after hours, thanks to the kindly offices
of classmate of mine, the city editor
| Of a newspaper The clerk beamed
upon US like municipal Cupid.
The last evening she left me, to pack
her trunks, and l went back to the
| club, and found there a letter from the
| magazine where | had submitted my
! story. It was a letter of acceptance!
| Misfortunes are not the only things
| which never come singly. | danced for
| joy. If the stores had been open
should have rushed out then and there
and bought the mahogany secretary we
had seen a few days before and visit
fully passed by. Fortunately, they
were not open.
In the morning my cab stopped in
front Of the old house near Washing
ton square, and Stella came forth with
a friend, a sober little person who APP
sponsibilities, and bore the totally in
appropriate name of Marguerite.
Dear, dearr' she said, "I've never
attended a bride before. It's very try
! ing. And it's very mean Of you, Mr..
| Upton, to take Stella from us. and
leave me with a new and stupid CO.
worker. How do you expect the die
| tiOnary to come out?"
81 don't" said l, NOR do l care If
it doesn't. There are too many words
in the world already"
Bill Chadwick, another classmate of
| met us at the church door. The rector
was a friend and fellow alumnus of
ours. 1t was like tiny family party,
suddenly and solemnly hushed by the
organ as we stood before the altar, and
in the warm dimness of the great, va
cant church Stella and | were made
man and wife. The four Of us went
n
on a wedding breakfast at Sherry's.
Good Lordr' he said, "you two gum.
shoe into an engagement, and get mar
ried without so much as a reporter in
the church, and then expect to make
a getaway like a pair of safe breakers.
one real civilized meal before you go
| back to your farm fodder"
| Bill had the solemn little bridesmaid
| laughing before the luncheon was over,
| but the last we saw Of them they were
| waving us good-by from behind the
grating as we went down the platform
! to our train, and the poor girl was
hopping her eyes.
! isn't the best man supposed to fall
| in love with the bridesmaids | asked.
cat least 1 hope he'll dry her tears"
Good gracious, yes!' cried Stella.
| 81 never thought of that You don't
| know what we've done. Marguerite is
dear girl and an excellent cross
/ indexer, but she's no wife for your gay
| friend William. You'd best send him
| a telegram of warning"
Never said l. Bill has cruised
so long in Petticoat bay as blockade
runner that l hope she shoots him full
| of holes and boards him in triumph.
| Besides. everybody ought to get mar
| ried."
Stella's eyes looked up at mine deep
and happy below their twinkle, and
we boarded the train.
xs>~>>~>>>>~>>>~>%>>~>~>%~>%%>>%~e
| 9 But we haven't reached the 6
| : finish yet, by long shot. Most s
| 8 stories end with wedding music s
| 6 but not so this tale about John s
| { and Stella. How Peter ard Bus s