The Right to a Normal Romance, If Any
I was in the CIM Mission Home in Vancouver, B. C., an accepted candidate. In two more weeks I was to sail for China, the land where three of my sisters were already laboring as missionaries. One had been out for six years, had been married while on the field, and was almost ready for furlough. The other two sisters had been out a shorter period. They were both single, and stationed together. That day I had received a letter from them written from a little hill resort operated by our Mission, where they and others had gone to escape the worst of the summer heat. Now, for missionaries, a summer resort is the most common place for a romance to develop! The letter was a gay description of their life there, and ended with the following sentence:
"There are thirty-three of us here now: seven married couples with nine children, nine single ladies, and one single man! There is one more single man expected, we hear, but even at that, I'm afraid there isn't much hope for us!"
The dinner bell rang, and I hurried down. But who was that elderly couple in the old-fashioned clothes? Perhaps I had been told that they were to arrive that day, but if so I had not remembered it. They were introduced all around the circle—missionaries who had just come from China! We sat down, and I found myself beside the lady.
"What did they say your name was?" she asked, apologetically. "I have such a time remembering names."
I told her, and she immediately pricked up her ears. "Williamson!" she said. "Don't you have a sister in China?"
"Yes, I have three there," I replied.
"Well, isn't that a coincidence! When I was in Shanghai I heard—no, you couldn't have heard it yet, for the news was just out—I'm sure it must have been your sister! Anyway, just before we left Shanghai there was a great hubbub about the news of a new engagement, and I'm almost certain—Dear," turning to her husband, "who was it that we heard was engaged, just before we left Shanghai?"
Her husband did not remember. "Well, I'm almost sure it was your sister, anyway!" she declared.
"My sister! But it couldn't be!" I replied rather dazedly, thinking of the letter I had just received. "Which one? What was her first name?"