The log cabin Democrat., 1916-02-14
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 LOVES WAYFARERS By IzOLA FORESTER.
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The pastors wife was used to a taxi or carriage now and then driving up at any hour with belated couple to be married. She was usually the witness, with Selma, the Swedish cook, hurriedly routed from slumber to act as a second one.
 The old-fashioned Evangelical church stood on Brook avenue, convenient to the railroad station and to the old city hall. Within it's quiet inclosure was also the parsonage, built in quaint Dutch style, of stone with ivy over it and double-peaked roof. There was very small study to your right as you entered and here the ceremonies took place.
 But this particular night there was different character to the couple who presented themselves for holy wedlock, as Pastor Van Kirk liked to speak of the bonds.
 The man was about thirty, good looking, well dressed, without a trace of nervousness in his manner And
 
 & rather worn face that had been bret. ty once. She had the look in her face and eyes of one who has gazed at fear so long that it has lost it's terrors.
 When the ceremony was over and they stood for the usual conventional chat before leaving, the man said sud denly:
 You don't remember us, do you, Pastor Van Kirk? And yet you mar. ried us here in this same little room nine years ago. We came back to you for that reason. l had not seen my wife for many years until a few days ago. You don't even remember the name, and yet we caused you trouble and notoriety at the time."
 And suddenly Mrs. Van Kirk leaned forward, her brown eyes full of in- terest and sparkle.
 T know, 1 know now, and I've been wondering all this time. You are the rich young man and the little nurse from Bellevue, aren't you?"
 
 his wifes shoulders, and the pastor eyed them intently. Theirs had been the only exciting romance of all his years at the parsonage. And she had been so pretty. It was not until the day after the wedding that he had known who they were. Then it was spread over the front pages of news papers and the little gray church had been subjected to notoriety. Names meant nothing to him. He had not recognized Spencer Morton as a fla nous name, he had not known he was uniting the only son of one of New York's greatest millionaires with Dora Bishop, Q probation nurse at Bellevue. And when the father had visited him, all he had made answer in his proud, calm way, was this:
 q pray God l have brought them to the gate of happiness"
 Now he gaZed at the two faces and asked:
 What happened? You have come back again. What for?"
 Because l was a coward" answered Morton quietly. My father threat and l agreed to give Up my wife if he would take me into the business as partner. 1 believed I could make good and win him around, but when l told her what I had done, and went to the place where l had left her, she hoI til three nights ago.
 Perhaps you remember how we met. l had been in an accident, and was taken to Bellevue, where no one knew ne. l was unconscious and, la ter on, delirious, and Dora was my nurse. When my mother found me there and had me removed, I asked for the nurse to accompany me until l was well. and we loved That was all. l did wrong to persuade her to secret marriage. I was a coward But for nine years ] kept up the search for her. And all these years while I have been searching for her she has lived in seclusion, cared for, yes, but believing I had died abroad My fa- ther told her this."
 Your father?" repeated Mrs. Van Kirk eagerly He found herr"
 Yes, he found her." answered Nor ton slowly. He died a month ago. l must Tot speak i'll of him, but only this: Believing that she was acting as private nurse in sanitarium out West, she was really prisoner there. My father secured divorce for me on the ground of insanity"
 He paused. Mrs Van Kirk, plump and impetuous, crossed the little room and put her arms around the little bride and kissed her on cheek and brow.
 There are so many years ahead" she said. See, Rupert and myself have been married forty years
 She followed them out to the side walk. A limousine waited at the curb "Ah, love, how pitiful wealth is," Mrs Van Kirk said, as they went hack