as severely as she was able to. . Ahr 1 time is pressing, I will take you awa
gela was cevered with confusion,
And on the following day her fa
ther's letter arrived.
Monsier Vidal was to call for her
in two weeks and they were to be
married in the parish, church near
the convent. Afterward he would
take her to New York upon their
honeymoon. The letter said noth
ing more about Monsier Vidal.
Poor Angela pictured him in her
dreams. At one time he was an el
derly patriarch with a snow-white
beard and a shiny, bald head; at an
other, an elderly business man with
a severe, clean-shaven face; and at
another, a gentle, elderly man with
a. pointed beard. But he was always
When the message came that the
mother superior wished to see An-,
gela in the reception room, she near
ly fainted with terror. But, control
ling herself with an effort ami many
prayers, she went in.
A gentleman was seated beside the
mother superior. And he was elder
lv. And he was a business man. And
he was severe. And he had a pointed,
Angela looked at him in. horror.
Then she blurted out:
"I can't; I can't!' ,
"Can't what, mademoiselle?" in
quired Monsieur Vidal.
"I can't marry you," she sobbed.
"Am I so homely, then?" inquired
the elderly gentleman, whose face
softened wonderfully as the twinkle
came into his eyes.
"I don't know you," wept Angela.
The mother superior, who had ris
en to her feet, seemed about to in
tervene, but the gentleman checked
her with a gesture.
' "I think, mademoiselle, 'that it is
your wish to obey your father's in
structions," he said, the twinkle dis
appearing. Angela raised her head and looked
vat him fixedly. "Yes i I must," she
"Then," said Monsieur Vidal, "as
as soon as your trunks are packed.'
Angela staggered from the room.
The mother superior, with one arm
about her, tried to console her.
"It is a shock," she said, "to meet
one's future husband on the day of
one's m'arrlage, for the first time. But
it may not be so terrible as you sup
pose, my dear." ,
An hour later, when Monsieur Vi
dal paced the reception" room impa
tiently, Angela appeared, looking like
a drooping lily. With ceremony
Monsieur Vidal conducted her to his
car. And they started, through
the slushy snow, toward the parish
church, wither the mother superior
was already hastening, by the lane,
across the fields.
Monsieur Vidal turned to Angela.
"You do not relishbecoming my
wife?" he inquired gravely.
"Oh, yes," answered the girL "For
give ,me, monsieur."
"Monsieur?" queried the other.
"Is it not your intention to call me
by odnih of Alphonse, little wife-to-
be? But stay! Since I seem so terribly-
old to you, -you shall call me
"Yes," murmured Angela.
"Then let me hear that name?"
" "It is well," said Monsieur Vidal,
placing his arm, about the girL "And
here we are at the church, my dear,
and in a short hour you will be a
bride. Do 'you, feel more cheerful
Angela gulped and nodded. But she
knew that if the young man- with .
brown eyes were anywhere near she
would fly for protection to his arms.
Why could he not come now, to carry
her off, like a fairy savior rescuing
the princess from the terrible and
He was there! He was there in
the church, beside the mother su
perior, who was talking to him in
grave tones, and as Monsieur Vidal
ana Angela enierea ne came iorwara
with an eager gesture.
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