As weddings seem to be the order of this chapter, we may here, as well as anywhere, dispose of Mrs. Carrington, whom, you will remember, Raymond said he would one day marry.  When he left Frankfort, he had no definite idea as to what he should do, but after reaching Cincinnati, it occured to him that his mother had a wealthy old bachelor uncle living in St. Louis, and thither he determined to go.  This uncle, Mr. Dunlap, received the young man cordially, for he was the first relative he had met with in years.  There was something, too, in the manner with which Raymond introduced himself that won for him a place in the crusty old man’s good opinion.

“I am Fred Raymond,” said he, “your niece Helen’s son, and as poor a jack as there is this side of California.  They say you are a stingy old customer, but I don’t care for that.  You have got to give me some business, and a home, too.”

Raymond’s method of approaching the old gentleman was successful, and he at once gave him a good position, which later developed into a partnership.

Feeling himself established and finding Mrs. Carrington in St. Louis, Raymond pressed his suit, and they were eventually married.

The couple were disappointed in their expectations of a fortune, for within two years after the marriage Mr. Dunlap suddenly died.  He had intended to make his will and make Raymond his heir, but like many other men he put it off until it was too late, and his property, which was found to be less than supposed, went back to his brothers and sisters, and from them to their children and grandchildren, so that Raymond got but a small share.

He, however, retained his position as a merchant, and struggled hard to keep his wife in the same circumstances to which she had been accustomed.  She appreciated his kindness, and when at the end of three years she was the mother of three children, she concluded it was time to lay aside all desire for fashionable amusements, and she became a tolerably affectionate wife, and a wonderfully indulgent mother.

CHAPTER XXV

Thewanderer

In Uncle Joshua’s home there were sad, troubled faces and anxious hearts, as the husband and daughter watched by the wife and mother, whose life on earth was well-nigh ended.  From her mother’s family Mrs. Middleton had inherited the seeds of consumption, which had fastened upon her.

Day by day, they watched her, and when at last she left them it seemed so much like falling away to sleep that Mr. Middleton, who sat by her, knew not the exact moment which made him a lonely widower.  The next afternoon sympathizing friends and neighbors assembled to pay the last tribute of respect to Mrs. Middleton, and many an eye overflowed, and more than one heart ached as the gray-haired old man bent sadly above the coffin, which contained the wife of his early love.  But he mourned not as one without hope, for her end had been peace, and when upon her face his tears fell he felt assured that again beyond the dark river of death he should meet her.