Puslapio vaizdai
PDF
„ePub“

remained incredulous and treated him they be in time? He seemed to be lookmore coldly than she had ever done ing at the bridal couple through a cloud, before; as he sat looking furtively at when they at last stood before the altar; her over the top of his morning paper, but he heard the clergyman's words disa sudden idea came to him. He glanced tinctly and knew the fatal moment was eagerly down the column of marriage approaching; at last it came ; an instant notices, and finding the one he sought, more would make the couple man and said: “You don't take my word, Mrs. wife; he cast a last despairing look Trumper; look at this; here it is, Fran- around, the words that could not be cis Craven to

unsaid were already trembling on the “I saw that in the paper a week ago, clergyman's lips, and fairly beside himsir,” said his spouse, severely.

self, giving no thought to the conse“Then put on your bonnet, my dear; quences, Trumper started to his feet and we'll go to the church and see if the mar- cried out : “Stop! you must not go on.” riage is stopped. You didn't read that Mrs. Trumper, by this time thinking a week ago," and he was enjoying his her husband undoubtedly insane, pulled own ingenuity when a sentence stating him back to his seat by his coat-tails ; that the time of the wedding had at the the clergyman paused and glanced in last moment been advanced half an hour his direction ; a low murmur floated up attracted his attention.

from below, and every eye in the church “This is bad," muttered Trumper; was fixed upon the place where Trumper “if the people over the way intend to sat. Having so rashly interrupted the interrupt the wedding at the church ceremony, he was in a panic as to how and do not hear of this change, they to proceed. Those who were near obwill arrive too late."

served that the bride was almost faintHe cut out the notice, placed it in a ing, and her father sprang to her side. plain envelope addressed to Herbert Trumper saw an usher making his way Billington, and bade a waiter take it to toward him, and knew that he would be the brick house. In a moment his mes- called upon to give an explanation of senger returned, stating that Crow had his language or compelled to leave the accepted the letter, but had told him church; but just as the usher touched that the people of the house were out him on the shoulder he could hardly and might not return until late in the restrain a shout of triumph, for he perday.

ceived Herbert Billington's familiar figThis news much disconcerted our ure advancing hastily up the aisle; at worthy friend, who felt, aside from his the sight Craven turned as white as he sympathy for the young lady, that his had done the night when he fancied he own domestic felicity now depended, in had seen a ghost. A short conversation a certain degree, upon an attempt being below ensued, and was followed by a made to prevent the ceremony.

Half declaration from the clergyman that the an hour before the time announced marriage could not be proceeded with. found Mr. and Mrs. Trumper in a pew Trumper's satisfaction was complete ; in the church gallery, to which they had he had not only vindicated his own reobtained admission after some difficulty. putation and won his wager, but had Trumper sought in vain for evidences saved a young girl from an unhappy that any unusual event had occurred; marriage, and withal was exceedinghe gazed in all directions and saw noth- ly well satisfied with himself. As to ing of the Billingtons or their friends, whether Amelia finally was wedded to and once more he wondered whether he her first love, it will perhaps suffice to had not been dreaming. He consulted intimate that when the beginning of a his watch every few minutes, and as the romantic attachment is very unlucky, it hour approached, his anxiety and nerv- often happens that toward the end the ousness became so great that his hand course of true love sometimes does run trembled and his face flushed. Would smooth.

[graphic]

Through

a Glass Darkly."

[graphic][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed]
[graphic][merged small][merged small]

To-NIGHT the very horses springing by

Toss gold from whitened nostrils. In a dream

The streets that narrow to the westward gleam
Like rows of golden palaces; and high
From all the crowded chimneys tower and die

A thousand aureoles. Down in the west

The brimming plains beneath the sunset rest,
One burning sea of gold. Soon, soon shall fly
The glorious vision, and the hours shall feel
A mightier master ; soon from height to height,

With silence and the sharp unpitying stars,
Stern creeping frosts and winds that touch like steel,

Out of the depth beyond the eastern bars, Glittering and still, shall come the awful night.

THE ROSES OF THE SEÑOR.

By John J. à Becket.

M

[graphic]

up in the

RS. REGINALD VAN CORLEAR arrived at

the Fonda das Cuatro Naciones, in Barcelona, shortly before the hour for dinner. Master Roger Van Corlear also arrived, as well as Miss Rutger, whose function it was to superintend Master Roger and assist in bringing him

way

in which Van Corlears should go. Two others in the party deserve mention : Mr. Reginald Van Corlear, the husband of Mrs. Van Corlear, and a vivacious lady upon whom she conferred the distinction of her friendship, Mrs. Oliver. A briefer, more conventional announcement of the arrival of the Van Corlears might not have conveyed so well the subordination of the members of the party.

Mrs. Reginald Van Corlear, as she stepped from the carriage in Barcelona that afternoon, was a young American woman of twenty-five years. Her figure was statuesque, her face

warm in its coloring, and her luxuriant hair was of the deepest black. It broke into restive little ripples here and there, as if it would yield to a general waviness if Mrs. Van Corlear were so far to relax as to permit it. Her large round eyes were soft and black. But the most expressive feature of her face was the eyebrows. They nearly always had a subtile curve to them which seemed a half pathetic betrayal. Strangers arrested by her dark handsome face thought they read in this curve that she was not utterly and serenely happy.

It is the last thing which Mrs. Van Corlear would have admitted, even if she struggled in a very Slough of Despond. The confession of unhappiness is leaning on a friend's heart, and Mrs. Van Corlear did not choose to lean on anyone.

Of course, this curve of the eyebrows may have merely indicated a thoughtful tendency on her part to the resolution of interrogative phases of her mind. Very few could have produced any reasons for unhappiness in the lady. For the five years of her married life she had been surrounded with every comfort and many unnecessary luxuries, and friends of hers, of her own sex, almost envied her as a lucky woman. Mr. Van Corlear was quite a nice husband as well as a wealthy one. Consideration for his wife seemed a wholesomely pervasive feeling with him. He liked her diamonds to be of the purest water. He always tried to secure a sunny apartment on the first floor at the hotels. Travelling about with her was one of the most distinguished marks of Mr. Van Corlear's immolation to his wife, as he liked the comforts of home and only endured other places, taking them much as they came. Mrs. Van Corlear positively enjoyed other places.

But there was nothing she enjoyed so much as her little boy of four years with his golden locks and daintily delicate face in which lurked two deep dimples that were like joy-bells. Roger spoke French with the most caressing accent, and was as quick and supple in his movements as a lizard.

The Van Corlears were shown to their rooms at the Cuatro Naciones. Roger was washed and rubbed till he glowed like a peach, and Mrs. Van Corlear, having refreshed herself with a bath, put on a black lace dress for dinner. Cheered by this outward renovation they descended to the dining-room.

Mrs. Van Corlear seated herself and gave that little bow to the other guests

« AnkstesnisTęsti »