Jasper County Democrat, Volume 4, Number 16, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 27 July 1901 — CELIA’S HONEYMOON [ARTICLE]

CELIA’S HONEYMOON

BLIA is strong-minded. You (G would not thlnk 80 to look at her; she is what I call a fluffy girl. She has a sweet face, with large blue •yes and a matchless dimple in her left cheek. But Celia is strong-minded. I sometimes even think mamma is a little afraid of her. She has certainly managed us both all her life. Celia has • perfect talent for managing people. When she told us she was engaged to be married to Sir Vernon Branstone mamma said: “But, Celia, darliug, you hardly know him.’* .“You never know any man unless you •re actually married to him," answered Celia, who is possessed of an extraordinary amount of worldly wisdom. Then I put in my word—“l don’t like him, Celia,’’ I said decidedly. “And you haven't got to marry him,” replied Celia, in her most putting-down manner, “so you needn't trouble about that.”

Mamma cried a little, and finally gave her consent, which was, after all, only a matter of form, as Celia has money of her own and is over 21.

We sat chatting over her fire the night before her marriage. “Supposing he is unkind to Celia,” I said: Celia, darling, whatever would you do if he were unkind to you?” “Do?” answered Celia, with an air of great astonishment, “I should leave him, of course, and come back to you and mamma.”

I gasped! “You couldn’t leaves man you were married to,” 1 said. “Couldn't I?" she replied calmly; “you’d see, Dot.” “I’m afraid he is rather selfish, Celia,” I said presently. “All men are selfish,” replied the wise Celia, “if they are encouraged—l shan’t encourage Vernon.” Then we went to bed.

I awoke the next morning feeling depressed. I hated parting with my favorite sister, and I did not care about my future brother-in-law. I must own he seemed devoted to Celia, but he looked so rough and big beside her I was dreadfully afraid he might bully her. But the wedding went off very well, in spite of my misgivings. My sister looked deliciously pretty In her white satin gown, and 1 thought Vernon looked proud and happy. A friend of his had lent them a house in Scotland for their honeymoon, and Vernon was to have some spring fishing. I saw them off at the station. This was, I know, a dreadfully unconventional thing to do, but It was just like Celia, and she insisted on it. She said it would prevenl people from knowing they were newly married—which was absurd, as her hat was covered with rice.

Just before the train was due to start Vernon looked at his watch and said to me: “Well, good bye Dot; I must be getting in now.” I shook hands with him, and Celia, leaning forward, moved the Ladies' Pictorial from the seat opposite. He saw the movement. "Don’t bother to move anything, Celia," he said genially, “I am going smoking.” I stared Incredulously at him—then I glanced at Celia to see howshe would take it. To my surprise she only smiled and said, “All right; go and tell Denise to come to me a minute, I want to speak to her."

He went off in a burry for her maid, who came up just as the train was starting. “Here, jump In, Denise, I want to speak to you,” cried Celia; “1 can pay the extra on your ticket at the other end.” Denise was bundled In and the train started without my having time to exchange another word with my ■later. I stood waving my hand until It was nearly out of sight, although Celia did not look once out of the window; then I turned away, feeling disconsolate. I felt furiously angry with Vernon. How hateful of him to go smoking and leave Celia to travel by herself—just when she must have been dying to talk over the wedding and everything! How lonely she would be on that long, dull journey! They were going to stop at New York for the night, Sut she would have nearly five hours alone with her maid. Poor Celia! I had warned her he was selfish, but it Is no use warning people who are in love —they are always so peculiar. I felt a little disappointed in my sister, to tell ths truth, for I never thought she would have surrendered so easily. She hadn’t •ven looked cross, but had smiled at Vernon. How dreadfully soon marriage changes some people! I found mamma still rather watery about the eyes. She asked me a great many questions, and was most indignant at Vernon’s selfishness.

“Fancy slighting my darling girl like that!" she said angrily. “And fancy her taking It so calmly,” I added. “I wish she bad never left us,” sobbed mamma. “I know he will bully her. I never heard of a man doing such a thing in mg life; my poor, neglected child!” We could talk nnd think of nothing •Ise, and sat down to dinner finding lonely and miserable. At about half past 9, as I was feeling quite worn out with excitement and fatigue, 1 thought I would go to bed. I kissed mamma •nd begged her not to worry about Celia. “1 wonder what she is doing?” she said tearfully.. “I do hope they will not quarrel, Dot.” I said I was sure they wouldn’t, as Celia had never quarreled with anybody In her life. I was just going upstairs when I heard the front door bell ring violently.

“I can’t see any one, Dot,” mamma called out to me. “I am too tired and upset to-night.” “We’re out, James,” I said to the footman, and added reassuringly to mamma, “It will only be what Celia calls a posthumous weddjng present.” I waited a moment to see. Suddenly I heard a peremptory voice saying: “Here, James, take in this box; Denise is coming on with the others in a fourwheeler. Where is Miss Dot?” I simply flew across the hall. “O, Celia, darling Celia, whatever is the matter?” I cried excitedly. Celia stopped to kiss mamma, who ■ had rushed into the hall at the sound of ; her voice, then she slipped her arm ; through mine. “Come along into the dining-room, dears,” she said, “and I’ll , tell you all about it; but do order me ! some dinner first; I am dreadfully hungry.” She spoke quite brightly, but her face was pale, and I don't think her : tears were far off. Then she told us what she had done. As soon as I left her she arranged with Denise to get out at Peterborough and catch the next express back to town. Vernon had luckily never seen her. Poor mamma looked rather dazed, as though she hardly understood what had happened. “It serves him right, Celia," I said angrily, “but whatever will he do? Won’t he be fearfully angry?” I felt nervous, but Celia only shrugged her shoulders. he wllL"_Abe replied, coolly; “but, after all, what can he do excepting swear? I have begun as 1 mean to go on, Dot, and«l must await developments. I expect he will soon fetch me back,” she added cheerfully, “and try to hush it up. No man likes being made a fool of, but it was really more than I eould stand.” She yawned and raised her pretty arms above her head. "And now let’s go to bed, Dot, I'm so awfully tired. It’s useless to sit here and speculate as to what he will do; I am all right in the meantime, as I have brought my trousseau back with me.”

The next morning Celia received a frantic telegram from Vernon, and in the afternoon be arrived. Mamma and I thought it kinder not to see him. I Celia had a long interview with him in the dining-room, after which she ran up to us and, giving us each a hasty kiss, 1 whispered she would tell us all about it to-morrow. Then they drove off to- I gether, and Denise followed with the ' luggage. I believe they staid at a hotel for the night and caught the express to

Scotland the next day. We did not see Celia again for several weeks, and when she wrote all she told us was that Vernon was a “dear.” They seem happy now, and I sometimes think I never saw a man kinder or more attentive to bls wife. Celia seems devotedly fond of him. Of course I always knew she was strong-minded; but I must say I have often wondered how she managed Vernon.—Westminster Budget.