Part 42 (1/2)

Train after train comes in from the West, and none from the East, they being held there by snow, at Cooper's Lake, and tremendous drifts in the deep cuts from Laramie towards Sherman.

Fortunately they have plenty to eat. There is a grocery store, and they are the first of this snow blockade, and so they live on ”the fat of the land,” which means canned goods of every style, and ham and bacon _ad libitum_.

Though Ferdie rages at the delay, Lawrence, being near his sweetheart, would be content but for one thing: Erma's position, without a chaperon, and accompanied by two men, neither of them relatives, is ”embarra.s.sing.”

Lawrence probably appreciates this even more than she does, as now and then remarks come to his ears, from some of the pa.s.sengers on the other trains, that he would resent, if common sense did not tell him that he must in no way bring his sweetheart's name to any scandal.

It is partly this, and partly the natural impatience to call his own this being he loves so much, that he is desperately afraid some accident or chance will even now take her from him, that causes him to come to Erma one day, and explain the matter to her.

He urges: ”Why should we wait for a grand wedding in New York, dear one?

As your husband, I can show you much greater attentions, and can do things for you that I could not as your betrothed, in the privations and hards.h.i.+ps of this blockade. Why not make me happy--why not marry me here?”

But the young lady, affecting a little laugh, murmurs: ”What? Before you have given me the engagement ring you wish to use the wedding one?”

And he replies: ”I wish to marry you!”

”Not by a justice of the peace!” cries the girl in horror.

”No, by a minister.”

”Where will you find one?”

”On the next train behind us--the Reverend Mr. Millroy, of St. Paul.

He's anxious to do some work; he has had no pastoral duties to perform for a month or two. Let us give him a chance--you know your father wished it!”

This mention of her father's views perhaps actuates Erma more than she imagines--but it also reminds her of him! She falters, ”You are sure you will never repent? Remember, I am a Mormon's daughter!”

”So you are, and the belle of Newport and the sweetest--the dearest--the----”

But she cries, placing her patrician fingers on his moustache, ”Stop!--no more compliments!”

”You consent?”

”P-e-r-haps! When do you wish it?”

”This evening!”

”Oh!” And blushes fly over her face and neck as Lawrence goes away to consult with Mr. Ferdie.

This young gentleman makes arrangements with the minister, and consents to act as best man on the occasion, crying: ”Thank G.o.d, Harry, you've given me some excitement at last! I had finished my last novel and my last cigar, and thought I should die of _ennui_ in this everlasting, unending, eternal snow.”

But even as Mr. Ferdinand makes his preparations for the nuptial _fete_, another train from the West comes in upon the crowded railroad tracks at Medicine Bow. On it, Oliver, Mrs. Livingston, and Louise. They do not see Lawrence and Miss Travenion, as their cars are some little distance apart. But Mr. Chauncey, who has a habit of visiting from one train to another, finds them out, and after a little chuckles to himself: ”This will be the ceremony of the season! I'll--I'll have some Grace Church effects for Mr. Ollie's benefit and discomfiture.”

So after exchanging greeting with his aunt and her family, he gets Miss Louise to one side, and explaining something to her that makes the child's eyes grow large, bright, and excited, she suddenly gives a scream of laughter and whispers: ”I'll do it--if mother puts me on bread and water for a week. It will make Ollie crazy.”

”That's right! You always were a lovely child!” returns Mr. Chauncey.

After this, throughout the day, Louise acts as if under intense but concealed excitement, for she says nothing to her mother and Oliver, but every now and then gives little giggles of laughter, which so astonishes Ollie that he remarks to Mrs. Livingston: ”The privations of this snow blockade have made the child deranged.” Then he says severely: ”If I hear another insane giggle, Louise, I'll shut you up in the stateroom;” for this young gentleman is always happy to play the domestic tyrant.