Year: 1875

swered, "That child is all need she is my
companion, the Joy and treasure of my life. y
l never realized, somehow, that day would
come when 1 should be called to give you up.
If I ever thought of your marrying, it was with
the hope that ere that time I should be re-
moved from earth, having had you with me
to the last. put aside the idea Of separa-
ton between US as vague, intangible evil
that Providence would mercifully avert from
me. see now that this reasoning was blind
and futile -selfsh-if you will. I suppose I
an, selfish in my love for you; but that is one
of those Unborn weaknesses of my nature which
cannot be rooted out. The knowledge that I
had all along been cherishing mere delusion,
came upon me with shock which 1 could not
quite withstand, for / am less strong than l
thought myself: But it is the will Of God
that the closest ties should be broken some
times and must be thankful that it is only
my happiness which is affected by the sever
ance Of this one"


was greatly agitated by this speech, and
made no effort to conceal my distress.


1T is not only your happiness which is at'
fected," l answered, when could speak.
"You make me more unhappy than can
express to you, and if you say the word, papa,
I will give up my marriage, even now-glve
up Arthur, and everything, sooner than cause
you such pain!'


"Hush, Rosamond you speak wildly! You
know would not exact such sacrifice from
you, nor do 1, in the least, desire it. On the
contrary, such a proceeding on your part
would only excite my displeasure."


"Then, what am l to do ?" / cried, in des-
pair. "Tbe prospect of my marriage makes
you wretched; the idea of my giving it up
makes you angry you bid me be happy in my
own way, and then make me miserable by
showing me that am doing you an irrepara-
BILE injury"


"Just so" said my father, quietly, in reply
to this outburst "That is the order in which
things stand, and, unfortunately, we cannot
reverse it. Cease to distress yourself about
what is inevitable, and resign yourself to it as
do. Time will, no doubt, soften the pain
which we both feel With patience the se-
verest wounds are healed"


"But am not a philosopher" answered.
81 cannot reason dispassionately. act from
feeling and impulse"


"When you are as old as am" said my
father, "you will know that feeling and i'm
pulse are not always safe or desirable guides.
Were 1 to act from feeling and impulse now,
perhaps the result would not be entirely salts
factory to you. Be satisfied to know that my
suit your welfare alone"


This argument was unanswerable; and l
felt that farther appeal was vain. | sobbed
until 1 was tired, and then dried my tears,
and gradually consoled myself with the
thought that Arthur would know how to
make me happy. 1 remembered, too, his sug-
gestion that the lapse of time would effect q
revolution in my fathers feelings, and could
only hope that this anticipation might not
prove delusive one. At all events, / found
that no present effort of mine could accom-
plish the desired result; and was forced to
accept papa's counsel, and resign myself to
the inevitable, with the best grace could
muster.


The fifteenth was rapidly approaching, and
all due preparations progressed accordingly.
Dear aunt Mabel was like good fairy, how
ering about me with kind, motherly care, and
casting the sunshine of her CHEEKY presence all
over our house, which would otherwise have
been gloomy enough. The wedding was to
be very quiet one 1t was to take place at
home in the morning, and we were to 60 d.
rectly off to Dr. Wardlaw's home in South
Carolina, for neither of US wished for the
doubtful diversion of honeymoon trip. Papa
had never even suggested that DR.. Wardlaw
should be invited to remain temporarily at his
house and remembering what he had once
said in regard to his presence there, after our
marriage, I felt that our best and safest plan
was to make the parting quiet and speedy
one, and remove ourselves out of the way with
all possible despatch.


No doubt it wa, matter Of some wonder
ment to our friends, that this important event
of our life should be allowed to take place un-
accompanied by any striking celebration,
knowing, as they did, the delight my father
had always taken in making the most of eve
ry occurrence in which my interest or pleasure
was concerned. But after few natural ques.
tions, they ceased expressing their ideas on
the subject, at least, to me and my unavoid-
able reserve in regard to it, joined to Papa's
immovable reticence, and perhaps, Judlcious
hint or two from aunt Mabel, in right places,
probably gave them the idea that the less they
visibly INDUCED their curiosity the better.


awoke on the morning of the thirteenth in
a futter of expectation, for on that day DR..
Wardlaw was to arrive, having engaged a
room and board in the village for the period
of his stay there. My own preparations were
by this time complete and had nothing to
do but to wander about the house and grounds
at will, in state of restlessness and quasi
melancholy that made me by turns absurdly
gay and unreasonably depressed. felt halt
sorry that the romance Of my courtship was
so nearly over; half frightened at the thought
of the new life was about to enter Yet l
had an eager desire to find peace and happi.
ness natural youthful craving to shake oh
the dullness of constant care, and the tram
mels of enforced and painful reserve, which
made my once joyous home dreary and sor'
rowful abode.


My fathers wedding present to me was a
magnificent set of diamonds, and pearl
locket which had been my mothers, contain
ing some of her hair, and miniature like.
ness of her, copied from one in his possession
set in the back. thanked him warmly, but
told him would have been better pleased il
he had given me also likeness Of himself


"No, child, no." he replied Il am too old
to have my picture taken. When you forget
how look, you can refresh your memory by
coming to see me-"


thought this good opening for relieving
myself of something that was on my mind.


"When you want US, papa said, boldly,
"you will write and tell US so, won't you? ??


Nv father changed color.


"Surely," he replied, "you are not going to
become such stranger as to need an invita-