A HONEYMOON INCIDENT.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXXIII, Issue 10319, 19 December 1896, Page 3 (Supplement)

A HONEYMOON INCIDENT.

At a large London outfitter's recently, a young couple who had just been, or were just about to be, married, were selecting the bride's humble outfit. They came into the wrap department, and asked for spring capes. These they examined, gravely fingering the material, but the little bride resolutely glanced at the price mark of each before she permitted it # to be placed on her tender shoulders. As she stood arrayed iu one after another, she glanced appealingly at. her companion, and all garments which failed to elicit his approval were silently discarded. Finally the saleswoman brought out a.cape of a different sort from the plain woollen garments she had been showing. It was of silk, trimmed with lace and a shimmer of jet. The little bride's eyes lighted; she forgot all about the price mark, and turned eagerly to the glorified reflection in the mirror. Her eyes met his, and she blushed and smiled couscioiisly. "How do you like it?'' she murmured.

" That's the ticket, Nell,' 1 he replied, with quick understanding. "No need of looking any further." " But," faltered the bride, the blush and the smile beginning to fade as she re meinbered an essential consideration, "I forgot to ask—how much is it?'' "Forty-eight shillings. It's a. great bargain— down because there are only «few odd sizes loft," glibly recited the saleswoman. The smile and the blush faded entirely. " I can't pay over a sovereign," faltered the bride, turning to the pile of previously shown garments. Her disappointment touched a quick chord of teuderuess in her companion. " Oh, come, now, miss, that's too much," he said. " "faint worth it. You just go and see what's the best you can do about it." He winked significantly at her behind the buck of the bride—who was privately disposing of a tear or two-and tapped his breast pocket. The saleswoman walked away, smiliug broadly, with the capo over her arm, and the young fellow followed her behind a screen where he hastily counted out twentyeight shillings, including many sixpences, and some coppers. " It's a, wedclin' cape, and 1 wont her suited," he explained. "x ou oome back in a minute and tell her she can have it for £1. Say there ain't any more left, or something. Don't let on, now I" He winked again, and hastoned back to his compauion, who turned a bravely smiliug couutenance upon him. "After all, Jim," she said, "'twouldn't 'a' worn very well. Don't you like this nice woollen one?' "No," said he, uncompromisingly. "I like that one with the shiners. They'll let you have it for a sovereign, too! 'Taint worth any more, anyway." " Oh, Jim, they won't, This is a one-price store."

The saleswoman returned with the cape. "The lot is about closed out," she said, smilingly; "and in consideration of it being part of a wedding trousseau we can let you nave it for £1."

The girl glowed rosy red, and. glanced rapturously at her lover. Then with trembling fingers she pulled out her well-wort purse, while he coolly remarked, " What'd 1 tell you ?" ' They were a poor, shabbily dressed, illiterate young couple, but what in the world has that to do with it? The cape was a tawdry combination of poor silk, cotton lace* and cheap beads, and that has nothing to do with it either. It 'was'the 'eagerly made, though unthauked and unrecognised sacrifice, the making another's pleasure one's own, the youth, the happiness, the "love's young dream" of it, that made the idyll.