Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 1, Number 31, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 28 January 1871 — Page 8

K*'i%

ft.

than the wiiiter'n Hrxt mantle of

LOVED AND LOST. Iding, under whose special chargeshe A3, Maud! it in true you huvo wedded the' wag to be placed, her devoted cavalier .1,,.. „t U..t What, wonwl Jfw?r orer the way, For the tutke of the KOU in Jil.s coffers, tho' his h«»«l W 1oth withered and gray To b* mlMretw of lands In the country, to be mUtrewi of tioum* in town. To quwri it in fashion'* poor pageant, you have rjrirt'- i-l your womanhood'scrown

That iwsniNand dl«mon-« might glisten in ,,. snft *Hk--n citrNof your hair, Tttni iat iui iu that uauiulng my vUlons rnlifht 'lvk»H out hi -ci^ln* most rare, That th* l-'rtr little hand you pledged me uiii: toy wi'.ii tii»: millionaire gold, Yl»u »orui*l ironi the friend* of your childhood, you have broken your proml*e (of old.

Vou have broken the vows that you uttered on'- summer eve year* long ago, W'h»-n ihf h»*Hrt that you gave me

WII«

purer

HU .W.

When the eve* that met mine fra.ik and f.*a:lIii-Id nothing of ^ullc or d.-r.-ll. And I he smile of Tonr red lips ln-gullod me, und hHd me a »f:*re at your feet.

And yet, Maud, they Kay you're unhappy that your -U)irit liii» m-ver known rest That thi* ioi.I In the millionaire eofft-rsican-not banish remorse from your breast That you *itfh for the love that you slighted, for tii: love that wan honest and true, Kot Lin- heart that through years of culrangernent lias ever been faithful to you. Tin- years have been lon« si nee you left me hi nnguiah and deepest despair, Ajui iiuic nun hin Mignet imprinted on the once glojtsy curls of your hair, Tin- eye* thai were bright have grown dim,

Maud the heart wul that once was so gay, And you've learned when too late, Maud, to value the love you flung lightly away.

[From IlarjHTV Magazine for February.J

Snowed Up."

"Oh, mother.such news cried Clara Tryon, her great gray eyes fairly black with excitement, UH she rushed in with an open letter in her hand. "Eleanor Stanwood is to be married to Mr. Oakley i.i-xL month, and have a grand wedding, and she wants mo to be one of the'irid.-maids! Think of that! And I've been crazy nil my life to lie bridemaid to somebody, you know it's such fun! And whom do you suppose sho has chosen to he groomsman with me? It's Colonel I«onox Words arc wholly inadequate to express the emphasis und rapture with which this last announcement was made.

Mrs. Tryon could hardly help smiling herself at tho young girl's delight, Hinl laid down her work, all interest to lle..r Lin. letter, which she lead aloud as far as, "I think you will lie satisfied, Clara dear, with the selection I have made for you, ami HO will the superb Colonel, 1 know. Two other people, firohahlv, won't be so well pleased— Maud N'orlon, who lias been doing her l«est to make a conquest of the Colonel have really been afraid sometimes she would suee-cod you kn«.w how bewitching she can be when she tries and she looks just like a little French marquise ihj.s winter, in the lovely l'aris toilettes she brought home and, secondly. Cousin Tom, who is to stand up with Maud, and who would be in the xevcnih heaven if it were only you. It's no use blinking tin lac:, dear he just worships the ground you tread on—

Clara stooped short in her reading, :uid wi'h luightened color, when she e.aiue tw this, l'crhaps one reason was that "Aunt Mellen'' had just come in, and was standing in the doorway, her sharp,. worldly lV.ce taking everything IU, as usual.

She became very gracious and benign when Mrs, Tryon had told her the news. There was but little love lost between hor niece and herself, and so the young tttdy \viuldnot- rea«I her the letter. t^uite a feather in your cap, Clara, to be one of Klennor's bridemaidw. They are very elegant people, the StanWoods, and so, of course, this wedding, as it is to be wo large, will las as splendid as nione anil taste—and they have lnotli—can mako it. rmso:ry, though, you are not to have Mr. Tom Stanwood to stand with he is called one of tho best t,i..n !ie.i in A and 1 do hope 'mi won't bo goose enough to refuse iu disc he oilers himself." And Mrs. Mellen threw back her velvot cloak with tho air ol a woman whose opinion was law.

you him

Clara's flexible lips curled just a little, while her aunt went on, directing her remarks Mrs. Tryon, who, having been sick in her room for several mouths, id not seen the young man. though his vLsits to New York him been numerous of late, "He is net only very rich ^his father left lii'n :.n immense fortune, you know), an I line family—there is none better in the jftate—but perfectly correct in his hi»bILH, and steady "He's too eold-bloodod to bo anything else!" said Clara, with an impatient shrug.

Not brilliant in conversation, to bo sure," continued tho lady, loftily, not noticing the interruption, "but sensible enough."

Now, Aunt Mellen," burst iu l-lara, "you know very well that he is the greatest bore in the world never had in original idea in his lite and a tier you h.ive dko«i ove the bust news with him conversation always conies to a dead stand still, unless, of course, you get him on his travels in Kuropc. And f've tried that dodge with him—excuse the slang, aunt, It's so expressive sometimes—till I am tired to death of Paris ,»ud the Nile, and all the rest of it." Then she gave an amused little laui(h, .ts she leaned lnu-k on the lounge. "Vou ought to soo hliu, mother! Tall and* *ttui«ns a tetoeraph pole! Drab hair, eyes, and Miiploxion no warmth nor eolor about id-n, unless when he wears red! Now, if there is anything 1 detost on a man, it's a red neck-tie. hair oiled and nartod behind, ugh and perfumery. Tom Stanwood Is guilty of •vU three! 1 will say, though," she added, repentaut, remembering all his genorosity and devotion to her, "that ho lias as kind a heart as ever boat and so I h*po that aorno daylieTl tliul a good HWtVt, stupid little wifr, who will adore hyii—and won't bo mol" she ejaculated tOpntaJlv.

The win

inter bofwre she had passed six her trunk checked, and finally getting delightful wu-ks In A visiting Klittnor Stanwood, "her most intimate friend," and she catue home fully perauaded of two things—that there was in .V a man who loved her, and a man whom the lovoflL Alas! that instead or tAing the suue, they were beings as widely difftjNMit a* the ixilea. The man who loved her wan plainly Tom Stanwood tho otfcer waa Colouel Lenox, \*ho was all Ihat poor Tom w« not— Itapdsome, cultivated, and elegant. Du« tho war lie wan distinguished fbr cool new and courage, and was the il of his whole regiment and now equally distinguished for hit at tko bar and if anything else oQiiid be needed to milder him IrrdsistiIU| in the e/eaof wouien, there was the lifclo of romance ahed round him by the I vague rumor of a most impassioned, trpgie love affair in his early youth supa&ed tf be the reason why, at thirtySre, rftid universally courted by moth* ej®d-nightor*, he w« still a bachelor. Just tho sort of man, it la evident, tint a^ouag romantic girl would at once fall down and worship, which, aeoordinglv, Clara did with all her heart. And Mi* was the man who was to be th« groomsman with hsr at the wed-

for that one time at least. What wonder that tho intervening weeks wero passed in a state of feverjah anticipation

During her visit in A Colonel Lenox had been devoted to her at first because she was tho guest of his friend, Judgo Stanwood, afterward because she atnused and interested him. There never was a girl more variable, inoro unequal a peculiarity of hers which he had soon discovered. When pale, listless, and uninteresting, she was hardlv ever pretty in less than an hour "afterward, perhaps, sho would be so transformed and so beautiful tha, you would scarcely believe it was the same—her usually "quiet gray eyes fairly ablaze with excitement or emotion, the softest, loveliest pink coming and going in her cheeks, her whole face and figure illumined and glowing with life and spirit and every womanly charm. Then you did not wonder at the enthusiasm she excited at such times, or the power she had over those who knew her most. The best of it all was, and one secret of the charm, that it was wholly involuntary, for she was quite unconscious herself of this marvellous cbangeableness of hers. As for Colonel Ijenox, he enjoyed playing on her as on an instrument, drawing her out, and quickening her intellect with his, till even he himself was astonished sometimes by her brilliancy, and then watching her with an artist's eye and admiration when he had roused and kindled her into beauty, ltather dangerous pastime this, even for a blase man like Colonel Lenox while Tom Stanwood on these occasions hovered near, like a moth round a candle, in hopeless admiration, and sighing at his own inability to "make her look so very splendid."

Tho wedding was to be, as Aunt Mellen—who, knowing but little French, was fond of introducing into her conversation—described it, a most "rashashy" affair, and was to come off on Thursday, the 17th of January, at eight o'clock in tho evening. Tho ceremony solemnized in church by the bishop after that a grand reception at the Stanwoods', which could not fail of being brilliant with so superb a house entirely thrown open for guests, and with a host so well known for his elegant hospitality. The next morning, after a splendid wedding breakfast—of course, only for the family and the guests visiting in the house, oi whom thero were to be twenty or more—tho bridal party were to leave for New York, then to take tho steamer for

they

Europe.

Clara

was to come by Wednesday noon, as that evening they were all to go over to lho church to rehearse the ceremony, arrange their places, ifce.—a matter of some moment, and no small amusement too, probably, with the six bridemaids and groomsmen, all so well acquainted, and ripe, of course, for any flirtations and diversion that should present themselves. Mr. Stanwood had invited Clara to stay a few days after the wedding, but she had decided in her own mind that it would be decidedly more charming to return with Eleanor and her husband to New York on Kridav morning. "The fact is," wrote Eleanor to her, "that I shall insist on mother's letting you oil—you know vou have promised her a visit in tho summer—lor Colonel Lenox and one or two others are going on with us, and we shall have such a merry party, with a tlrawing room car all to ourselves, and shall be together till the steamer s'.iils."

Tuesday night—she was to start early next morning—her dress came from the dress- maker's, and there -was a general burst of admiration from all the family tho moment it was unfolded. As they were none of them to see her in at "the wedding—only her undo Charles was to go on with her, as her father had an importuut case in court, and her mother was an invalid who never wont anywhere—tliey insisted on her arraying herself, that they might see just'how she was going to look. It was a silk of the most melting, heavenly blue and as Clara stood bo lore the glass in it, while her mother put the flowers in her hair, and the dress maker proudly spread out the train behind, that every one might see "what a splendid sweep it had," sho could not help knowing that she had never worn any thing half so becoming in her life. Her hair looked sunnier in it, her eyes more brilliant in color, tno low neck and short sleeves showed tho round, white beauty of her girlish form, whilo excitement "and pleasure had given her cheek tho soft color of a bush rose. One thought was uppermost, and gave her an exquisite thrill of delight. Colonel Lenox had never seen her in full dress in her mind's eye now she saw the

quick

smile of admiration that

woulit be sure to light up his handsome face when he should see her for the first time dressed like this. Surely, surely, he could not resist her then

The next morning when she woke up she could hardly l»elieve that at last the day BO long looked forward to, when she was to start for A had arrived nnd she lay still a moment just to realize to herself the whole charm of tho situation, and taste beforehand, by anticipation, every drop of this full cup of pleasure at her lips. Sho was dressing and humming gayly away to herself when a disappointment arrived in the shape of a message from her uncle Charles, that he had been suddenly taken sick with pneumonia, and it would be impossible for him to go to A with her. "Never mind," said Clnra, determined to look on the bright side to-day. "I'm sorry but it's only live hours' ride, and I don't have to change cars anywhere so don't dread the journey, and Jack can go to the depot with me to see me safely off."

Which her brother Jack did and I suppose it is not necessary to inform any one intimately acquainted with iniys of fourtoen that he hurried her almost to death, and bustled and fussed more about buying hera ticket, having

her into the ears, than if she had been going to San Francisco bv the overland route. And after all he went off with her traveling bag and lunch Clara laughed to see htm racing back at full speed with it when it was just too late, and thought how they would tease him at home.

I shan't need anything to eat, so it's no matter," she said, cheerfully. Deluded girl! little did she dream that before another twenty-four hours ahe would be ready almost to weep at the remembrance of the tempting sandwiches and the freshly bakeo, delicious cake which her mother had put up for her in that Tory bag I In blissful ignorance of what was before her, ahe lean-

anyone could tako such a dreary view of "this happy, beautiful world. The sky all the morning had looked dark and leaden, as if hardened with masses of snow, and they had hardly started before the quiet flakes began slowly to oome down, then stesdily to increase, till Clara made up her mind thst they were "certainly in for a regular snow storm." This did not disturb

have

•ill!1'

her, for there waa something soothing in the noiseless softness of the falling snow so she watched it, and the booses and fences and trees flying past, dimlv as through a white voll, till her eyes were almost dizzy and so for relief sho amused herself by taking a long, "exhaustive survey" of her fellow passengers, but found nothing particularlv interesting in thein. Returning to "Vanity Fair," she became completely absorbed, till, after more than an hour, she was roused by a violent gust of snow driving against the glass, and looking up was amazed to see how furiously it was snowing. They had evidently ridden into the storm rather than "away from it. The snow fell so thick and fast that it was blinding one could hardly distinguish objects a few feet off, whilo the wind roared like a hurricane, taking tho snow up

TFttRF-HAUTE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL:JANUARY 28, i871:

ttnd

whirling it round—in some places piling it up in huge drifts, in others leaving the ground almost bare. The cars labored slowly, as if at any moment

might stop. She heard a mnn behind her exclaim to another: Mark mv words, if this isn't going to bo the "biggest storm known for vears!" which, suro enough, it was for who does not remember tho great snow storm of 18(37

I'll bet every thing we get blocked up, and don't £et into A before it's midnight," said another.

Clara's face began to grow painfully worried, and, shutting up her book, sat with her nose flattened anxiously against tho window, trying to see out. Presently the train came to a full stop. The men hurried out to see what tho troublo was, the wind and snow rushing it with a blinding swirl as they opened the door, and closed it with an expressive "whew!" APer a while thev all came back, and stood round tho'stove, stamping the snow off their boots

and

talking loudly. Clara heard:

Never saw such a storm !—snowplow perfectly useless, and frightful drifts ahead !—trying to shovel out, but it's no go!"

Sho began to think how dreadfully lonely and forlorn it was to be "un unprotected female," with no one even to tell her what the real danger was. How she wished for her father, uncle Charles, Jack even, anybody to look out for her a little in case they were snowed up, or there was a collision, or nobody knows what dreadful thing that would certainly happen! After a long time, however—diversified by various backings and fillings—the train actually started with a jerk, and kept bravely on. Everybody cheered up, and Clara smiled to think of the melancholy forebodings in which she had been indulging, and leaning her head comfortably back on the seat, gave herself up once more to happy thoughts of the morrow. One thing, however, she fully resolved upon, and that was to keep out of Mr. Tom Stanwood's way as much as possible ves, even to snub him if necessary, or do anything to ward off the declaration that she felt was coming, because, in reality, he had gone much farther than any" one else had dreamed, and had boon so fearfully near ollering himself the very last time she saw him that, if she had not resorted to all sorts of ludicrous stratagems to prevent it, lie would

done it then and there.

Sho should have trouble with him at the Stanwoods', she was certain of that but just as sure as he attempted to be "soft," or press her hand, or anything of that kind, she would—do sonie|^ing terrible, probably, judging frj expression but her meditate broken oil short by tho cars motionless. Then "there was commotion among tho passengersyphnd more going out and coming in, Avith hats and coats powdered thick with snow, and collar turned up to the ears to keep out the biting wind. "Now we are a lixturo!" says one. "Drifts before and behind like"mountains one of the wheels oil the engine, and telegraph wires br ken no communication possible with the next station. Have to stay here all night, and no one knows how much longer, until the storm is over!" "Well, we shall starve!" suggests a stout, red faced man. "Freeze, more likely!" mutters a thin one "the wood can last but a few hours longer."

Every one now began to look distressed or anxious a sickly looking woman in front, who had a terrible cough, drew a threadbare cloak more closely round her thin shoulders, with tho expression of one who has hoard her death-warrant children hearing tho words "freezing" and "starving," hardly knowing what was amiss, set up a doleful cry, and their mothers gathered them up in their arms with sorrowful, loving faces. And poor Clara with all her joyous visions vanished, how sharp was her sense ot disappointment, how bitter the pain, as she began fully to realize tho disaster! What! stay here two or three days and nights, perhaps —for she had heard of such things happening to trains—with no one to care for her, or protect her from any insult of word or look, which some of these rough looking men might offer her—a youns: girl without escort—suffering, too, with void nnd hunger, while her friends were feasting and dancing in the midst of brightness and warmth and music and flowers Not see Eleanor, whom sho loved so doarly, married and loso all the enjoyment with Colonel Lenox, the very thought of which had been such an intoxication for weeks! Ah, it but too cruel! and she drew in her breath almost with a sob, as she pushed open the windowto judgo for herself ot the state of things. It was a wild, gloomy scene that sho beheld as she peered through the blinding snow and gathering darkness—though it was but little past noon —a wide, dreary stretch of country, not a sign of habitation near, nothing to be seen Imt mountainous drifta of snow on every side, nothing to be heard but tho melancholy wailing and shrieking of the wind, ft was bitterly cold, and she closed the window with a shudder. At this moment she felt another gust from the opening door, and looking round saw that a little crowd of gentlemen was entering from tho rear car. Judge of her astonishment and relief when she beheld among them

Guess who, my readers.

"Colonel Lenox," respond at ohee the young and romantic ones, still believing in such glorious possibilities.

Alas! no. But it was Tom Stanwood You see, this is in the main a true story and I am bound to tsll things just as they really happen to most or us so, of course, it would not be "the superb Colonel," you know.

Tom saw her instantly, and sprang forward with a beaming face. low here, Miss Tryon! Why, I understood that you were going on with your uncle laat evening I had to go to New York for a day on boaineas, and urried with all my might yesterday to st through, so that I might go to A

hurried with all my might yesterday to get through, so that I mtgb In the same train with you. I was tremendously cut up when I found that I couldn't and here you are, after all. 1*11 never scold about my bad luck again. Why, where's vour unote f"

Ob, the flckleneas of woman natnrat It was so delightful to poor Clara to see a gentleman she knew, and on* so glad to take care of her, the instant sense of

protection and relief was so refreshing in her lonliness and distress, that sho forgot at on«e how disagreeable she had thought him such a little while before, and held out her hand and made rooin for him beside her with an eagerness snd warmth that were almost gushing. Tom, for joy and surprise at this change since he last saw her, was quite carried away, and, as ho brushed tho snow off his long, light whiskers, and settled himself before her, would not have given up his place in that cold, dirty car, on that hard, red-plush seat, for a bower of rose in the Garden of Eden. And no wonder he felt so, lor Clara's distress had quite demoralized her in a way that is shocking when one remembers all her stern resolves and apparently reckless as to consequences, she was so charmingly helpless and confiding and sweet, so altogether gracious, that the poor fellow's head was completely turned so that lie soon made up his mind that there never could be a more favorable time for pressing his suit, and resolved to improve it. Iu the mean time, however, tliore was not the least prospect of their reaching A before to-morrow, so there need be no hurry about it, and he might give himself up now to his present good fortune.

After a while, as they still remained stationary, and the afternoon slowly wore on,"conversation began to flag as usual with Tom, who was neither sug-

gestive nor equal to keeping up a topic after it was started. It is exnausting to be always starting new ones aud then he had a high, monotonous, uninteresting voico, that was wearisome to Clara, to whom a person's voice was far more than bis face. All ol her old feelings began in spite of herself to come back. As she looked at him she kept thinking, If it only might have been Colonel Lenox sitting beside her, and talking in that low, clear, rich voice of his', then she wouldn't have eared if it had taken a month to reach A Oh* why couldn't such things have happened in that way just for once? The contrast was galling so she said she was sleepy and tired, and, curling up in tho corner, as far as possible away from Tom, she pretended to sleep, though her heart was in reality far too heavy for that. The hours dragged drearily on, and the night settled down on the snow-bound train with "a darkness that might be felt," the fury of the storm still increasing, and hurling the snow against the windows with a violence that seemed enough to burst them in. Within, two feeble lamps only made the darkness visible. By midnight the fires had gone out, and there was no more wood. The cold became terrible. Most of the passengers bore all in uncomplaining silence but the children, of whom fortunately there wero but few, kept up a low, mournful sobbing, not only with cold but hunger. Clara, just before Tom appeared, had insisted on wrapping up the sick woman, who coughed constantly, with her traveling shawl. She began to feel the need of it now keenly she could not keep her teeth from chattering, and sho shivered from head to foot. Before she knew what he was going to do,Tom had got up and taken off his over coat, which he wrapped gently round her. When she looked up to thank him she met such a look of tenderness that she suddenly flushed up, being fairly frightened. "Indeed, I don't need it," she said, sitting up. "I would rather you kept it for yourself." "Miss Clara," said Tom, earnestly, "I would rather give up anything I have in tho world than see you suffer Y'ou see that's because I—I—" his courage was beginning to fail him. "Well, then—I love you that's tho whole of it!"

He had got started now, and nothing could have stopped him so ho kept on pouring forth protestations of devotion, while Clara listened to him in silenco, with her hands squeezed tight together in her lap, a choking sensation in her throat, and a nervous dread under all lest he should raise his voice so that those near should hear him. Sho need not have feared, though, with the roar ing of the wind, and the crying of a baby behind them. He finished, and watched her face anxiously for an answer. Clara could not utter a sound not a word came to her lips yet tho longer she sat speechless, tho more oppressive the silence grew. Oh, how she wished that she could getaway! that the very snow would drift over her and hide her! anything to escape answer ing, and giving this man the pain of knowing that his love was utterly wasted, that she had not one particle of affection to give in return for tho wealth of it ho had laid at her feet. She made a tremondous effort, and looked up at him sho saw tho tears shining in his homely, honest eyes, and that broke her down.

I do wish I could lovo you, but I do not in the least, and never phall!" Then she just laid her head down on tho top of tho scat before them, and cried under her veil.

There was something in tho tono and manner, even more than in the words, that carried conviction to Tom's heart, lie made one or two feeble attempts to obtain a more favorable answer, or to win permission to wait, and hope that at some future day she would feel differently toward him. But in vain. Clara knew herself too well to let him hope, only to bo again disap|xintcd yet, though firm, she was not hard, but so womanly and tender, so truly grieved, so fully appreciative of tho love which yet she could not accept, that poor Tom, though heart-brokon, never in his life had loved her as be did now. Long as it seemed at the lime, it did not take long in transpiring, and at the end of it our two travelers, to any one passing through the cars, would have seemed to be conducting themselves in the most matter of fact manner possible. The young lady, probably a little tired, resting her head, with her veil down, against the side of the window the gentleman, having kindly wrapped his coat round her feet, was sitting with his arm folded, and his hat a good deal tipped over his eyes, in a quiet brown study, or dosing perhaps. But what a storui of conflicting passions was going on under those calm exteriors!

The gray morning light began to dawn at last, revealing, witnin, the blue, forlorn faces of the shivering passengers, huddled up in their cloaks and shawls in vain attempts to keep warm, while, without, the storm still raged, and the pitiless snow kept on piling up its mountainous drifts aroufcd the motionless train, which was its helpless prisoner. The cold snow now in the cars had become so great that they were actually in danger of freezing so a little party—including

Tom—ventured

forth,

determined to dig or shoTel themselves oat in some way, if only to get fsnca rails to supply the stoves. Gone a long time, they returned with a little wood, and the news that they had discovered a little house not far off, which soma of tbetn were endeavoring to reaoh, in order to bring back food. And this was the opening of the happy wedding-day to which Clara had so eagerly looked forward! Sitting there, cramped, cold, and faint, with a heavy heart every time she looked at Tom's sad. set ifcee, it seemed to her aa if ahe could not be

the same girl who, twenty-four hours before, had sprung so gayly from her bed, feeling that lire was a Paradise juat opening before her. It seemed as if all that were ages ago, and now she waa going on, or rather standing still, in some dreadful nightmare that would never end.

Of course thero Is no chance of our reaching A in time for the wedding?" she said to Tom, trying to look cheerful.

It's barely possible," he answered "hut if we "don't, Maud Norton and Colonel Lenox can ioiti and take our places, which will oe no disappointment to her, but very hard on the Colonel."

Clara was not sure of that, and felt a jealous pang at the thought. It was a possibility sho had not thought of before, and it redoubled her eagerness to reach A The foraging expedition returned rejoicing in the possession of a few eatables, which they distributed and Clara, eating thankfully the sqnaru of gingerbread that was her share, wished she could have been heroic, and refused it but she was so hungry.

By noon it was ovident that the storm had begun to abate,and there came also the jovful news that, after great labor, the conductor had succeeded in reaching a telegraph station, not so for off as they had feared, and had telegraphed for aid. After a while it arrived, in the shape of an engine and snow-plow, which had broken out the drifts before them. At last they actually started, and were once more moving on their way. and the faces of all brightened at once. "If we meet with no more obstruction," said Tom, "we may arrive at A by seven o'clock, in time for the wedding, after all."

Hope*»prang up in Clara's breast her eagerness to get on became intense, now that there was some chance of it. If it would have helped tho car on any, she would gladly have got out and pushed it herself with her slender shoulders. She could not talk for watching the engine laboring heavily along through the snow. To be sure, she neither looked nor felt like "n blooming bridemaid," with great circles under her eyes, her head aching, and a violent sore throat coming on. No matter, she thought excitement aud a cup of strong coffee would make her jill right if they might reach A in time, and it really seemed now as if they should. All at once they stopped short. "Good Heavens! what can bo the matter now?" exclaimed Tom, while Clara opened the window and looked out, in a fever of impatience. It was a tremendous drift, which it took them at least half an hour to get through.

Well, if we reach A by half past seven," said Clara, determined to be hopeful, we shall still have half an hour to drbss in and who wants more?"

Once more they were on their way, and once more they were brought to a dead stop, and another hour was gone before they were free. Clara and Tom looked at each other in despair, and gave it all up. "I don't caro now when we got there!" said Clara. "Perhaps in time for the weddingbreakfast to-morrow morning," answered poor Tom, with a melancholy laugh.

It was precisely ten o'clock when the train entered the depot at A It was evident tliov wero notjexpectec, or re a to lucky travelers, and it Avas WitbgPnculty that thev secured a carriage to themselves, so" few were in waiting there. "The fact is," said the haekman, as he took their cheeks, "that all the carriages are in demand to-night for the great party at Judge Stanwood's house there was a big wedding at the church first."

The two looked at each other expressively, but without a word. Clara's traveling dross was soiled, her hair tumbled, even tho feathers in her hat hanging limp and askew, and tho driver stared a little when Tom told him to drive them as quickly as possible to Judge Stanwood's. The house, which stood on a hill, looked splendidly when they drove up to it, illuminated as it was from top to bottom long rows of carriages, coming and going, lined the street through the lace curtains they could see the brilliant moving throng w-ithin and the music, to which tho guests wero already dancing, was borne with tantalizing distinctness to their cars. "Oh, how crowdod it looks, and how merry!" exclaimed Clara, nervously. "Don't, for mercy's sake, let us drive up to tho main entrance, and arrive iu this plight in the midst of the guests in their satins and tarlatans." "No tho hack man shall take us round to tho side-door," answered Tom.

Which ho did, but not to the one they intended. In her haste to get in somewhere before any should see her, Clara did not notice where they onteredjand, the first thing she knew, they were standing together in a blaze of light, and right among the brilliant crowd, under the archea opening loading from the conservatory, where, wltn the room, the brido was standing, resplenent in her shining satin and flowing veil, to receive her guests! It was tho most conspicuous place in tho rooms— the very one, too, where, ander happier chances, she would have been standing with Colonel Lenox! Tho elegant dresses, the light and music and flowers, all mingled in one maze before lara's dassled, terrified eyes. She saw but one thing distinctly—Maud Norton, radiant and beautiful in her bridemaid dress, and Colollel Letiox beside her, looking into heseyeswith an air of devotion, his bro*n, cprling mustache almost touching her ear as ne bent over and murmured something, at which sho looked down and blushed. It flashed into Clara's mind what a contrast it was to be standing there, with Tom iStanwood, travel-stained, worn, and weary: then everything began to swim around and grow black asshe turned quickly to escape, and she would have fallen, bad not Mrs. Stanwood caught sight of her, and putting her kind, motherly arms around her, led her, with Tom's assistance, tenderly away.

Clara had never feinted before in her life, but all she had gone through waa too much fbr her ana when she opened her eyes, some minutes afterward, it was to And herself lying on the bed in the pretty chamber which had been reserved for her, Mrm. Stanwood bathing her head, and the bride herself, looking Uke a beautiftil vision, stooping down to kias her. She was so tired that the wiahed only for quiet: so, alter a while, ahe persuaded them all to leave her. It Was a sharp trial with her throbbing bead to lie quietly in the darkened room, listening to tho feativltiea of which ahe waa deprived and ahe was thankfbl when the music ooaaed, and the laat carriage rolled away from the door. But it was no less hard when, next morning, on attempting to get up and dreea, ahe found her throat ewollen and sore, and every bone In her body aching so that she oonld hardly move And it waa also ,hard to hare to tak

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her breakfaat in bed, and little comfort that it was so daintily, exquisitely served and hear all the while nrom the dinner room below the laughter and,. murmur of the merry voicea of the gav1'breakfast party. After that she would get up and be dressed, and then wu assisted across tho hall what Mrs. Stanwood called her "inerning room," because, as Eleanor aaid, "it wouldn't be quite so dismal for her there." It wasa charming little room, with its great bow-window a bower of plants in bloom birds in gilded cagcs singing inT'' the morning sunshine elepant nick-' nacks for reading and writing, and

jroat soft chairs. When she was com-

First tho bride came in, all ready for her journey, in her quiet, handsome traveling suit and sitting down by her on a low seat, and caressing her hand in licr gentle, affectionate way, told her how they had all missed hor at the wedding—the only thing that had happened to mar her perfect happinosa —and how disappointed sho and Mr. Oakley were that she was not ablo to go on with them this noon to New Y'ork there would have been such a pleasant party of them, for Maud Norton waa going and Colonel Lenox. "Ididn't know Maud was going," said Clara, quietly.

Nor I, till just now," answered Eleanor. "The fact is, I strongly suspect that they are engaged. She has made' wonderful progress with him the last few weeks, and all the latter part of thd reception last ovening, instead of dancing, as usual, she was walking in thet consevratory with tho Colonel, iu tho most occupied, engaged way and at"., little hint she dropped to me this morniiig makes me think that it is all sofctled."

Clara kept perfectly still, not even an evclash quivering, and Eleanor, stop-' ping a moment to arrange the foot stool more comfortably for her, went ou inn lowered tone: "I'm sorry, because she isn't in tho least equal to him but then, that's al-„ ways tho way! Here I am, you know," a proud, happy smilo coming into her face, "married to a man twenty times my superior! And, by the way, dear, do you know that everybody will be gossip pi njf next about vou and Tom? Nothing certainly could have boon •, more lover-like than his behavior lastnight. He wouldn't dress and come in to the reception, though ho might as well as not, oven if it was so late, just? on account of your absence: so we all thought and this morning ho was so absent-minded and sad at tho breakfast that it was quite laughable to seo him.

TUB way in which: Robert Bonner commenced to lay the foundation of that ridiculously large fortune of his, is said to be this: He worked at caso as a printer at |8 per week, and wroto letters to country papers. When he had saved up $500, he bought the Merchantti' Ijtdger and now he owns Dexter, and J. Elliott, and Nebuehadneezar, and Ramiaes the lat, and ever so many other nags. Re has, besides, much city lot. two or three millions in stocks and things, and an Income sffir 000 a week, on which ha manages to rough it.

A BIRMINGHAM hair-cutter advertises "Private wigs." What a fcotrible thought for the Dald, that theee anay be such a things as public iri|».-{Poflch.

arranged in one of thom, look

ing pretty though pale in her white*' wrapper, a gay Afghan thrown over her lap, her .ittle slippered feet resting on a soft crimson foot-stool, she held a little reception.

One would have supposed you wero at the point of death with typhus lever,' instead of laid up with a cold

Every word Eleanor said was liko a stab to poor Clara, who began to rovolvo in her mind what she could do to prevent the real state of the case from Being known, and so spare Tom's feelings at least so much, whilo tho happy bride, unconscious of tho pain sho wa"s inflicting, and attributing Clara's unwonted silence wholly to sore throat, continued hor ofi'orts at diverting her attention:

Colonel Lonox especially seemed impiessedat seeing you and Tom arrive togethor as you tlid. Ho expressed the Kindest, most friendly anxioty about you all day yesterday. Yoti aro youknow

EloaiioSt^'fflfWitWT^ called Mrs. StahWood Juat fhen from her room. She sprang up quickly. fL* 1 must go now, darling mother is waiting to see me sho said sho could not bid me good-by down stairs with overybody there." And so, with warm embrace, thoy parted.

Then camo Mr, Oakloy, a gravo, dig-* nilied man, to say good-by to her, and with liim Colonel Lenox, who expressed his disappointment and regret at the storm, which had deprived them of hor presence, and his sorrow for her illness, in such a sympathetic, charming way, that it would nave made Clara's heart beat high with pleasure an hour ago now she only kept saying to herself:

Ho is engaged to Maud Norton, and, I—am 'one of his favorites!' Then Maud herself ran in, with a bocoming little traveling hat on, aud ono or two others. And immediately aftor 1 Iu* carriages came, and they all got in and drove awav. Mrs. Stanwood and !ara stood at the window up stairs to-.. gctlier, watching them, till tho carriage turned the corner aud was out of sight. Then Clnra leaned her head on"1 the mother's shoulder, and they both*: cried—tho one because her daughtor was gone, tho other bocauso sho was sure that all the charm aud romanco of lifo for her was fled forever. But God doos not allow our young lives to bo" crushed so easily as that, and in spito of? itself youth is elastic. So—thougu MOW,, she would not have believed it posslblo,, —it was hardly two years from this when, ono dazzling winter's morning, Clara stood, a happy, lovely brido, at tho sido ol Colonel Lonox's yonngor brother, Dr. Lenox, studying in EuropoJ1 at tho time of Mrs. Oakley's wedding,* and as ignorant of Clara's existence asp sho was of his. Ho was a man less^ brilliant than his brother, but of dooper culture, and greater force of character and as far as any earthly lovo can satisfy, she found her nature satisfied in his. So that when tho Colonol, withhis wife on his arin, camo up to con-/ gratulate her, handsomo and elegant as ever, her heart beat not one throb tho quicker and when some allusion was* made to the unlucky snow-storm of two years before, she gave one of those gonuinely merry, catching laughs which it does one good to hear, at the romorn-. branco of all tho dire mishaps that bo-, fell hor then. As for tho Colonol, hostelled to himself as be turnod away with Maud, who wearied him always» now, and no wonder, sinco there waa^ really nothing of her that could havo alasting charm—like a glass of soda wa-! ter with its sparkle and offervesconco all gone, utterly insipid. And he felt when be looked at Clara that sho wouldf be always fresh and interesting, because, always developing and growing—a wo-, man who could forever retain her husband as a lover with the ardor of pur-' suit, since she would be ever Just beyond him. something not yet fully aUf tained.