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Pomeroy weekly telegraph. [volume] (Pomeroy, Meigs County, Ohio) 1860-1866, January 31, 1860, Image 1

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Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn85038184/1860-01-31/ed-1/seq-1/

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T. A. PLANTS, Editor.
"Independent in All ThingsNeutral in Nothing.",
j Publisher!.
II II . A rr . Ill .
1 a III . Ill ' yxi l .lll . A
W7 111
7 7 It! A 1 fl rt 7 M my
ill . 111. Ill EI 111 111 II IVY I II ,111 III til III
M i
gentle; there are hours when he
. i By anxious care is tossed,
And shadows deep lie on his brow;
By business trials crossed. ' '
"Be gentle; 'tis for you he toils,
-.' And thinks, and strives to gain
Home comforts and home happiness;
Don't let him strive in vain.
" Be gentle; though some hasty word
Should fall; it was not meant;
A smile, a kind word, will recall, '
And many more prevents
- Be gentle; Oh, 'twill soothe much care,
: "And make ench burden light;
. -A gentle tone will smooth the brow
And draw an answer bright.
Be gentle; though it may seem hard '
T check an anjrry word; -Yet
try; for it will surely bring
A' full and rich reward. '
--iX.iWaa not;very much surprised to re
ceive, one morning, a letter from my
niece, Mrs: Lorimer, although she had
nevet written? to -me .since- het marriage
nearly! four years ago nor did the
contents of her letter excite much aston
ishment in my mind, different - as it was
frour'the undeviatihg "accounts I had al
""Ways receiveiToTher h7ip'pincss"aTidr6s
perity. . I !,was unspeakably grieved, to
be sure; but I had always had my doubts
about the sincerity of -her protestations,
for i knew the. vain, proad heart of the
girl, and that to own herself -disap-.
pointed, would seem to her humiliation
-and defeat. . ' .' " a -.- . y a
V ' T did' not overlook the ' remembrance
.tht" her! sisters had visited her, and
brought back glowing accounts of her
felicity; but, then, a fine house and, large
"establishment made up their estimate of
a happy marriage, and so long as every
thing seemed smooth and courteous be
tween the pair, they would never look
further or , deeper.. ,IIowbeit, here was
Jsabel's counter-statement:
j "Dcar Aunt Sarah," ran the letter,
"will you leave homeland come and stay
"witlTus for a time? The house is quiet;,
the summer is in -its glory; and it will be
such a pleasure to me. Do come in spite
of obstacles', for I m unhappy, and want
tbconsultyou. Towhom else can Hook?"'
YjiSb,, though I felt it rather hard to
leavemy pretty cottage and flower-garden,
at the pleasantest season of the year,
and still more so, to break off my old
vways and ha bits jolifey which : fitted me
there like a glove, I resolved, to Jose no'
. lime in obeying Isabel's stfinrnons, for I i
was very anxious alxtut her. I thought
some conjug;d crisis must have occurred,
or she would - never have dropped the
veil. I knew Mr.Xoriiner sq slightly
-that I had little ground for speculation,
so far as he was personally concerned;
but I knew that Isabel had married
from respect, she said; and I could not
help remembering' how, even with the
solemn nuptial vows in her earj and
enunciated, too; wifh a tremulous pas
sion, she had turned her graceful head
.from altar and1 priest fo' mark the ample
flow of her satin drapery and costly veil, j
.jSonie might havve called it a charming
nalcele; but it did not seem so to me, nor
W'lS" ,1 - one of those who fondled : and
rpraised her her rhusbatul among the
rcst-rrfor the cl ear, .calm tones in which
she, had spoken her own responses. I
. did not like it; there was depth enough
in Isabel's nature, to. have made her for
get, her. brldal-s uit, and to have stifled in
whispers her.,1pell-like voice, had her
heart been true to her words. When I
looked, from he husband's flushed face
and eyes, which glowed, when they fell
. upon her; to her cool cheek and smiling
lips, Jiuade an oldwouian's inward au
gury of ill; .f'Hot love soon grows cold,"
said I to myself: ("and she, poor child, is
, not in love "at all J(Jod grant the flame
may never break, "out of bounds!'' 'To
speak truly, the last was my present fear.
I was not afraid- ofkny outward compro-
m)se. of, Isabel's drity,1 for I relied upon
' the self-testraint of ,'hcr1 chara6ter and
, her pride of position; but had she dis
! covered that, she was capable of loving
as she never had loved, and that the ob
ject of that lover was. not her husband?-
- that' a' blessedness once: possible, .was
now in sight, but out of reach forever?
Then, again, came back the consolatory
reflection,. that Ahe; would,, never have
wned it; pride and shame would have
- seiitjier siJent to the grave: -and my heart
-iached involuntarily ;as I c-on'-eived that
Vtii'ning gnef devouiiiig her in secret. ;
" At all events. I would 'go.' The very
. same day I-received Isabel's letter saw
Jmy arrangementscompletej arid the even
ing post carried her a letter stating at
i what hour they might serid to meet me
sat the railroad station. Then-1 put on
my bonnet, and made the best of my
way to the, city, to tell .her ; family of my
ofisit, and receive their commissions.
" It was a Bultry evening, in the .begin
ning of July; and the heat, dust, and
' turmoil of the metropolis struck me op
pressively. The cross of St. Paul's
.flamed in the blazin'g' sun;' the gay dis
ply of summer fashions in the adjacent
iwiadows looked tawdry and eclipsed in
. the unmitigated light, and one put by,
half in pity, half in disgust; the droop
ing, scentless roses thrust upon the at
tention by the importunate flower-girls.
j found my brother's warehouse in full
activity; he himself was paying commer
cial court to some important customer in
one of the long narrow alleys formed by
bales of goods, which fronted the public
door by which I had entered. t lie saw
me at ome, and directed me to await his
leisure' in his private counting-house
'with an air of undisguised astonishment
at my appearance. When he joined me,
I told him briefly why I had come, for
it had been long since Robert and I had
been on affectionate terms. He appeared
highly amused at the idea of my going
to Morton Leas'.
. "Why, what can Isabel want with you,
Sarah a quiet, dull, old soul like you.'
No offense I hope- but you must wonder
yourself; beside, you will 'e like a fish
but 'of water in their gh nd h'.use and
,with their fino ways. You .hive no no
tion of the sty's they live in."
f' I' said quietly: '"If I hid not, it wis
frOm no want of Information on the sub-.
ct; ahd that I had every confidence
that I should hot commit myself in his
daughter's houe;" and then I went up
stairs to see her sisters.
It was the same story over again un
bounded surprise and witless conjecture.
I had to listen for the hundredth time to
recitals of "how things were done at
Morton Leas'," and they seemed to share
their father's apprehension that I should
find this splendor quite too much for me.
As they had no instructions to give be
yond an entreaty to write and tell them
"how it all struck me at first sight, and
how I got on with Mr. Lorimer," I was
soon back again on my homeward way.
.' How it all struck me at first sight I
weH remember! A heavy storm in the
morning had cooled the air and laid the
dust, and after the restraint of my jour
ney, I enjoyed keenly the unaccustomed
luxury of reclining at my ease in the
luxurious carriage, as it rolled rapidly
over well-kept roads, through the noble
fir-plantations I had heard . were . Mr.
Lorimer's especial pride. How exquis-
itely the slender spues ot the trees stood
out against the roseate amber of the sky;
how gratefully the eye rested on their
statelv lavers ot green shade! iowa
squirrel darted , into momentary view,
which was a charming vision to my cit
izen-sight,; as were also the mercurial
rabbits that at every point appeared ana
vanished with incredible swiftness-. .'.,
"You can see the house, now, ma'am,
through the trees," said the coachman,
civilly turning round to indicate it. ,.
could, and a grand old place it seemed to
nie grander even than my tutored . ex
pectations. I don't know in what style
or of what date it was; its anij front
looked to me like the facade of a Greek
temple, only the Portland stone was red
dened with age, and was almost covered
with a dense but clo6e-?ttt growth of ivy,
intermingling with the graceful festoons
of the Virginia creeper. On the broad
terranft on which the front orjencd. I re-'
cognized the figures ot inv host and hos
tess, which so occupied and excited my
mind, that I received but a very general
impression of any external object. .
I could not help the reflection that
Mr. Lorimer's mercantile connection
musLiudeed be on a colossal and remu
nerative scale, to have permitted him in
early life to make himself the possession
of so fine an estate.
I was so eager to, get my first glimpse
of 'Isabel, that I was on the poini of
overlooking the courtesy of my host,
who came down the steps to hand me
from the carriage. He spoke to me so
kindly that I wondered at my former
impression of his coldness and stiffness.
"I am so truly pleased to see yon here
at last " he said: "and so, you may be
5n'i-6, la'Tsube l)i 1 ly-i4--'wo!B!CT-HSl
waif,". I was looking out for someTiadica-
tion how matters stood betweeB. them,
and I fancied I could detect a change
from the cordiality of. his , tone the mo
ment he mentioned hiajW-Lfe's name. He
led mc up to where she stood smiling to
receive me, and placed my hand n hers.
"I hope," he added, "you will be able to
enjoy -yourself with us;" and then, as if
he considered his duty done, lie turned,
and went into the house. He had not
looked at Isabel as he spoke, or lie could
not have failed to have seen inker eyes
a wistful expression, which touched me
deeply, for it seemed to plead for his no
tice; and he went away without a word,
whis h surely would not have been tie
case if cordiality and affection subsisted
between them. .' l.
I turned and gazed at Isabel, who
stood wa'tchinj; mc "attentive Iy-jand stili
holding my hand in her's precisely as her
husband had placed h. . "Why, child,
how beautiful you have grown!" I said
involuntarily; "and how stately stands
the queen, of this fair demesne! What!
not a word or a kiss for the old aunt
mother?" 1 In a moment her arms were
round my neck, and she was showering
kisses upon me. 'I:was affected by the
convulsive pressure of her embrace, and
the speechlessness of her emcjtion, and I
tried to release myself playfully. "Just
as of old, reckless of finery!" I said,
"Alas! for my new cloak and bonnet.
Take me up stairs, my dear,, and show
me thechildren." Thereupon, suddenly
composed; she drew outfrombehind her,
with a charming gesture, a pretty snow
drop of a child, who had been clinging
timidly to her dress, amid the ample
folds of which she had hitherto been ef
fectually concealed.- - '!
''VHere is one of my darling, Lily I
call her, because she is so white. The
other is asleep. But come; I keep you
standing; we will show Aunt Sarah her
room."-, -She caught up . theghild irt her
arins -lithe and. tall, the weight ajenied
of no account to herand pte;e Jed, line
up stairs with such a firm yet light step
that I followed her movements with ad
miration. How the prouiiseLof the girl
had fulfilled itself in the woman! She
had always been exquisitely'pretty; but
her beauty seemed to me to have a higher
character now. She had quite recovered
her composure, and, staying with me
while I dressed for dinner, asked me a
hundred questious concerning, her old
home and family. , I could see she was ;
afraid of my taking the inuative, but I
had no idea of being so premature.
The reader of an old woman's story
will readily excuse all superfluous detail.
I must not describe trifles with the min
uteness ' of ; a three-volumed - move!.;
Suffice it, all arpund me , proved that
wealth and good taste had Combined; to
give ray Isabel a home that should have
been an e'.ysium; and that before the
first dinner.-hour wjs over, 1 was con
vinced that Mr. Lorimer had survived
his love lor his wife, and regarded her no
longer but as an elegant appendage to
his house and table. I sa-, too, that
Isabel was miserable beiieath her cold
and indiffereut demeanor (good Heavens!
how every trace of the impulsive, self
confident girl seemed vanished); but the
cause of the husband's coldness and the
wife's disappointment I could not guess.
With whom lay the b'ame? We were
not alone at the table. I found that
Mrs. Vivian,. Mr. Lorimer' only sister,
was a giiestas well as myself. This lady
did not please me at all: her manners
were at ouce haughty and 'careless, and
it utmost seemed to me tht in her atten
tive solicitude for her brothor. to whom
all her coir. crsat ion was addressed, and
her measured civilities toj Isabel, there
was a lurking insult to th latter win- h
jmost inevitably made itself felt. Mr.
Lorimer himself was an admirable host, j
so kind and skilliul in his kindness, tnai
even I, predisposed to nervous shyness of
him, soon felt at ease. Nor must it be
snppose,l that there was any failure of
outward respect toward his wife; he never
avoided addressing her or referring to
her opinion whenever it was natural to
do so; hut it was the averted or chilling
look, the tones untouched by an accent
of tenderness, from which I drew my
conclusions. How different from the
wedding-morning! thought I; ay, one
prt of the prohecy was fulfilled the' hot
love was. cold enough now.
;I was very glad when dinner was over,
and we rose to retire to the drawing
room, and still more so when Mrs. Viv
ian announced that she was under the
painful net-essity of leaving us for an
hour or sor to make arrangements for her
departure on the morrow'.,
, I was very anxious now to question
Isabel, but I found such was hot her pre
sent intention. .
"Let Us go to the nursery," she said;
"X always see the babies put to bed.",
. However, when we reached the nur
sery, we found the children asleep, for
dinner had been later on my account,
and the nurse Was vigorous about ex
tinguishing them at the appointed hour.
I had feared Isabel would have been a
careless mother; but as I watched her
leaning over her babes, the tears gather
ing in her eyes as she gazed at them, I
ielt ashamed ot my involuntary injus
tice. The baby lay in her bassinet
which was in that state ' of high toilet
common now -a -days to those charming
receptacles with its cherub race flushed
in healthy sleep, and one fat rosy fist
pushed against the tiny mouth. Lily,
in her little white bed, pale and motion
less, looked like some lovely piece of
monumental sculpture. Isaw some deep
passionate feeling was welling up in Isa
bel's heart as she stood by her side, and
presently turning from her, she dismissed
the servants down stairs, saying to me,
in a forced tone of carelessness "You
and I, dear aunt, will keep watch for a
little while. I like sometimes to . spend
a quiet hour with them thus."
We were hardly alone before her self
command gave way; she sank on her
knees by the child's couch, and stifled
sobs shook her from head to foot. I
went gently up to her, and stroked the
bowed head without spcak'ng. ' My heart
bled for her; I felt how bitter was the
long suppressed anguish that was now
finding vent.
"Come, dear child," I said, "let us sit
down in this window seat, and talk your
troubles over. I am sure they arc not
She lifted up her wet pale face with a
bittecsauilc. kiJLJhave hut one trouble.
aTTijryou h,iVedTscoverevl ttTrlreadyriry
husband does not love n.e!"
I 'saw she watched feverishly, in half
hope of a disclaimer, but I could not give
"There is some quarrel between you,"
I began soothingly ' some temporar'
alienation;" but she interrupted me de
cisively. "Not so, Aunt Sarah not so! It is
confirmed ' indifference, the result, he
would tell you, of my own heartlcssriess
hopeless indifference, for it is the hard
cold of former heat!"
"Poor Isabel!" I said, "and you love
him now?" '
She stooped down and kissed Lily with
concentrated passion. ' "I - would give
this child of my heart to win back my
husband," was the answer. "I would
consent to lay her in her grave, if over
that grave he would look as he used to
iook, and speak to me as he once spoke."
But I must not go over every spoken
word, but tell in brief what Isabel told
me: in vehement detail.' It maybe other
young wives may; learn a caution from it.
She had married with a very superfi
cial knowledge of her husband's charac
ter, alter a brief acquaintance. He court
ed her from a: position considerably
higher than her own, which dazzled her
ambition, added to which he was passion
ately in love with her,' and - worshiped
at her footstool. ' It was a dangerous in
cense he offered. Isabel had many fine
qualities, but her education had been un
fortunate; she had always been greatly
flattered and indulged in her own circle,
and she took her lover's devotion ; as a
matter of course, accepting as her right
all his lavish liberality; and seeming to
take it for granted that' nothing more
was required of her than to be the gra
cious recipient of the tribute offered.
Worse than a!l, she married without love,
yet deceiving Mr. Lorimer with the im
pression that she loved him.' I. rather
think she deceived herself, saying she
had a great respect for him; that she
loved him, she supposed, as much as she
could love any man. ' Poor girl,' vain,
selfish, and ignorant of the world, she
was weak enough to estimate her surren
der at the exaggerated price her. lover
put upon it, and .to believe the glamour
would last! : f
But men soon wake up from these il
lusions; it is only for a time that a hus
band can deceive himself that he is loved, '
unless the wile be a consummate hypo
crite, or he an uxorious fool. Mr
Lorimer continued to adore his beautiful
young wife, until the first blindness of
passion having cleared atay, he began
to perceive she was exacting and unres
ponsive. V
"You cannot believe,'! said Isabel,
"with what insane arrogat e I acted.
To be the sup -cm consir,ation. for my
will to take p ee :eti-;e ot kis. was what
I had expected and claimed and it never
occuri ed t me to fee! grattful for his in- j
du'gence or to wonder at hii forbearance; '
moreover, I did not love hun then, and j
I began to wwry of his attentions, to
sit ken of his perpetual companionship, j
I suppose I scarcely triedito hide mv ;
impatience, for I was so bejotted, that I
believed he must always lone me.
"About this time, his sister, Mrs. Viv
ian, came first to stay wit! us, and I
doubt not she stimulated htr brother's
awakening. Besides, Mauriee is a proud
man, with a sufficient sense if his own
excellence and eligibility; and it was im
possible for him, when he btgnn to re
flect, not to consider how mih he had
bestowed upon me, nd thaf I had not
even paid him with my lov . I don't
know how it was I was blind lothegrad
ual hauge in my husband's lanner, ob
livious of the influence whicljwas work
ing against my happiness; but4 was so. It
was over Lily's cradle that I first awoke
to a consciousness of my position. It I
had been a great disappointment to both
of us that she was a girl; to me, I think,
especially. Une day, 1 was bewailing
her sex very weakly, and felt surprised
that he did not join in the lamentation.
"Are not y ott disappointed, too?" I
asked. -
"Yes," he said coldly; "but my disap
pointment is irretrievable, and dates
further back. Try and love your baby,
Isabel, if you can."
"These words fell upon me like a
thunderbolt; I suddenly saw my whole
conduct in its true light, and in all its
consequences; but it was too late! Prom
the moment I was forced to realize the
idea that he had ceased to love me, I re
ceived a vivid conviction of.the value of
his love. I came down from my seclu
sion to find him, as- you see him now,
coldly considerate, punctiliously atten
tive; but he no longer sought my society,
or welcomed my coming with smiles.
"I cannot tell you the effect this change
had upon my Wayward heart; besides, it
seemed dreadful not to be loved by one's
husband. In my turn, I began to love
him passionately, to wait upon his word,
to court his attention; even to solicit his
endearments, for his coldness maddened
me. Perhaps I might have succeeded
if we had been left alone, but Caroline
Vivianwas always with us. Her pres
ence and influence ruined everything.
Previously, she had seen my husband's
devotion and my neglect at their full,
and no doubt all she had said to him then
of his blindness and my worthlessness,
was bearing now its abundant fruit. I
could not endure her to see how our po
sition was reversed and what I Was suf
fering. I could not sue for her to sec
me rejected; and during the months she
stayed with us, I tried to act my former
part as closely as possible. So mad was
in my false pride, that I have sacri
ficed the happiness of my life to it. I
succeeded so well in this miserable game,
that I deceived both him and her. I left
them constantly to their own society,
while I was thirsting for one hour of his.
I rode, drove, visited, according to my
own convenience and leisure. I con
suited my ; husband's inclinations less
than in former times, I justly laid my
self open to Caroline's interference and
reproaches, but I would not bear them.
Violent scenes followed, until Mauriee
himself silenced her. He wanted no
champion of his happiness, he said; ex
postulation and reproach would not
transform my nature, or give him the
wii'e he had expected no third persou
could lighten the lot he had to bear.
The night Caroline went away, I threw
myself at his feet I besought him to
love nip to believe that I lovcdjiim.
Men are notinpursive, inconsTslcnt,
demonstrative, like us, and he could not
understand such conduct. lie called it
caprice, policy, hypocrisy .said I had
worn out his regard; reminded me of this
and that careless words, selfish actions,
which I had forgotten, but he had
brooded over in silent bitterness and dis
appointment. Alas! alas! hew black the
catalogue appeared!
"The tale is nearly told out, Aunt
Sarah. Since then, things have gone on
worse and worse. His propriety and
coldness have been always the same,
while my conduct has been actuated by
passion, grief, and resentment, perpet
ually at strife. By turns, I am neglect
ful and disdainful, reproachful and im
ploring. I love him now as he never
loved mc. His patience and temperance
apjear to mc admirable in the midst of
my misery, for the uncertainty of my
temper, and the discomfort of our rela
tions, .embitter his life.' Caroline has
becn; once more our guest for the last
week or two; and perhaps now her pres
ence does good, for it forces me to a
measure of quiet and consistency. , '
"To-morrow, my husband leaves me
for Glasgow on important affairs. I half
think everything is not going right in his
business connection, but he never talks
on the subject, only he looks harassed
beyond his wont. He baid he might be
a month or two absent; and so, Aunt Sa
rah, as my misery was getting intolera
ble, I thought I would send for you.
Now, what comfort have you to give me?"
Poor Isabel! I could but clasp her in
my arms, and try to soothe her by my af
fection. What chance she had of regain
ing the happiness she had so recklessly
squandered, 1 felt very incompetent to
decide, owing to my slight knowledge of
Mr. Lorimer's" character, and his imme
diate departure would preclude the pos
sibility of my forming a judgment.
"But; my dearest child," I argued, "one
thing appears to me absolutely certain,
that a man like your husband, with quick
perceptions and sensibility, can never
resist the influence of your love and duty,
if you will but try and regulate their ex
ercise. You must earn his respect, con
strain his affection, and time must give
you the vic tory. Prove yourself worthy
to be loved, Isabel, and he will love you."
"I cannot wait," said Isabel, clasping
her hands; "I want it at onc(j to-morrow
-r-now! I shall never win it on system.
But it grows dark, dear aunt; we must
go down stairs. Come with me to my
dressing-room till I can find nerve aud
to meet them again."
When at length Isabel was sufficiently
composed to return with me to the drawing-room,
we found Mrs. Vivian at the
piano, and her brother listening to her
fine voice with evidently extreme enjoy
ment. I felt vexed to see them thus en
gaged, for Isabel had no musical talent
herself, and I feared, under present cir
cumstances, the effect of the smallest in
jiirious comparison. As I sat and
watched Mr. Lorimer following note by
note with critical enthusiasm and affec
tion for the accomplished singer, I re
gretted still more that this subtle way of
reaching her husband's heart was closed
against Isabel. Mrs. Vivian rose, how
ever, as soon as she had finished her
song, saying: "I wont bore Mrs. Lorimer
with my loud voice; I know she does not
care about music-;" and the piano was
closed, for neither host nor hostess chal
lenged her assertion. Mr. Lorimer be
gan to talk kindly and pleasantly to me,
informed me of his departure for Scot
land, and mentioned incidentally that he
must start so carley that he should break
fast by six o'clock in the morning.
"Oh, well," said Mrs. Vivian, "I shall
be up to? pour out vour coffee: th?rtf 1
...ik:.. , ,1 1 . . n.
uul"'"S B i-ueeriess, as 10 . sec on on a
journey .with no one to see that your
great-eoat is buttoned, and to wish you
I looked anxiously toward Isabel, for
I could'see she was trembling with' re
pressed indignation; she commanded her
self, however, admirably, and spoke qui
etly enough. . .
"Pray, do hot disturb yourself so early,
Caroline; I have made my own arrange
ments for the morning, and propose to
breakfaswith my husband alone."
Mrs. ViTutfiT shrugged her shoulders,
expressive of scornful acquiescence in
his new-caprice, and Mr. Lorimer ap
e,ired too intent on the railroad guide
he had taken up to hear the remark.
'About half past five on the following
morning,' Ijvas awakened by Isabel
standing already dressed by my bedside.
She wished me to get up, and join her
and her liusband at the breakfast fable.
"I donot know what I may be tempted
to say to'him, Aunt Sarah, but I feel as
if I could not let him go away in his
present estrangement, especially when I
fear he. had such serious business for his
object. I have thought for some time
past thst he had seemed anxious and ill
it ease.,. Oh! he must take me to his
heart again speak to me kindly!"
"But, my dear child, had you not bet
ter be' alone?" . ' '
She thought not; if I trete pfese-pt, I
could judge for myself; and I should be
no restraint upon her. I thought how
lovely she looked presiding at the table
in her simple white gown, and felt per
suaded her" husband must tniftk 9Cf too
when he came in. But when he did, af
ter a few civil speeches to me, he seemed
toohurpedand preoccupied to notice any
thing, i He swallowed his breakfast .in
five minutes, and then rose at once and
rung the bell impatiently for the carriage
to come round. v
.;'I must be off immediately," he said,
looking at his waKdi; ''I would not miss
the traiu on any account. Goodby, Is
abel." . ' ' ;
What could be done in the way of re
monstrance or entreaty under such cir
cumstances? A man under fear of losina:
the train is scarcely tolcrent of conjugal
cniDraces, . mucn jess or conjugal re
proaches.' Isabel had timed her appeal
badly. She stood irresolute; her eyes
downcast,- her brow clouded. 1 saw Mr
Lorimer had made a movement toward
her, as if to kiss her, but turned shortly
fromjheron remarking her attitude. . He
evidently misunderstood her, for he com
pressed his lips with an expression of
such .bitter feeling, 'though it was but
transient, that I felt how deep a current
of suJptgig and disappointmentran bc
fiea t fiJiis -ralnr-a nd ord fbary am a n"er "
"1 hepc you will not find the country
very dull," ho said to me; "Isabel must
do her best to amuse you during my. ab
sence; it is very kind of you to come and
stay with her. Take care of the chil
dren, Isabel." .
He turned and was going. I touched
Isabel's arm, and she sprang suddenly
forward so as to intercept his way to the
"You will write to me?" she asked ea
gerly :"you will let me know your
movements? Are you likely to be Ion
absent? a month six weeks? Lorimer
speak to me kindly before you go away!"
I saw the color rising angrily to. Mr.
Lorimer's face. .
. "Why have you reserved your tender
appeal till the dust moment: he said
"Were you anxious for a witness to your
protest against my ncglcctr 1 shall
write to you duly. Don t attempt to de
lay me another moment." ,
He spoke in a hard, severe tone put
her gently on one side, as she blocked
his passage and was gone. A moment
after, we heard the carriage roll from
the door. ;, Isabel clasped her hands.
"Am I not a blundering fool?'' she
cried passionately. "I never, make an
attempt to heal but I widen the breach.
He thinks, now, I am playing a part
wanting to convince you 1 am a neg
lected wife!" ,
. She walked restlessly up and down the
room, I had not much to say in the way
of consolation, I had felt from the first
thatTt'was impoIifeTo " have insisted " on
my presence during the interview,' but
she had overruled my objection; and I
was deeply grieved to see matters were
worse between them than I had thought.
I had hoped .last night that Isabel had
exaggerated or mistaken her position. '
"And it does not seem so very long
ago," continued she, gloomily, "that he
never left me for a few. hour without a
tender farewell. I never came into the
room but he smiled and gave me a seat
near him. He could scarcely pass me
without a touch that was a caress; and
now41- ' - ' !'
.' O. child," I said, "you must have
acted very ill!"
"Have I not told you so?" she returned
bitterly; "and do I not suffer for it? ! He
never loved me as I love him now.
What long patience he had with me
blind to my selfishness, indulgent to my
vanity, giving me so much with such an
ungrudging lavishness, and only asking
ni6' to acknowledge it and love him!
Can I blame his sister that she helped
him to discover how unworthy I was?"
"I fear," I said, "she still docs you
harm. She will not be here when your
husband returns. " I cannot believe, Is
abel, that when left alone to exercise a
judicious influem e, you will not regain
the place you have lost. 1 here must be
some tenderness left for you in his
heart; your love must reanimate it."
She shook her head. "No; I despair
of it. His love and pride have both
been t6o deeply wounded. He does not
believe that what I feel is love, but. ca
price the desire to regain power and
influence lost. He does not think I love
my children; but we cannot continue to
live like this. If there is no change for
the better on his return, we must part;
we' '
The entrance of Mrs. Vivian arrested
the conversation; she appeared in a most
elaborate morning-toilet, and apparently
in superabundant spirits.
"It was cruel of you to forbid my
wishing my brother good-bye, Mrs. Lor
imer," she- said gaily. "I tried to hail
him from my window; but the noise of
the wheels, or his grief in parting from
his Isabel, made the effort vain. . I wish
jew engagements permitted my etaying a
day or two longer with fyou till your
sprits had rallied." ; , . ,'
This was intended for sarcasm, for, of
course, poor Isabel was doing ner oesi
to appear cheerful and unconcerned, and,
as she said she had always suceeeded.so
well in this doubtful ruse as effectually
to deceive her husband as well as her
sister-in-law. Mrs. Vivian chatted on
while taking her leisurely breakfast, "un
til the effv; rt of repartee became too much
for Isabel, and she left the room under
the excuse of going to her .nursery.
Left thus alone witn the stranger guest,
a sudden resolution seized "me. 4 naoj
. . . 'Till
been studying Mrs. Vivian s countenance
for some time attentively, and I came to
the conclusion that, though her manners
might not please- me,-there was no indi
cation of want of heart or intelligence in
her physiognomy, and that I, in my
turn, would make a udden appeal.
When she rose, to excuse herself for
leaving me, to make her final arrange
ments for hef departure, I begged her
to remain a few minutes longer, as I had
a matter of importance about which I
was anxious to consult her. She re
seated herself : immediately, with an air
of undisguised surprise, then, ou a sud
den, her brow clouded.
"It is about your niece? about 3Irs.
Lorimer and my brother. Do not let us
speak of it my dear madam. I should
be really grieved to hurt your feelings
on the subject; but it is one on which'I
cannot trust myself to speak calmly."
She was going, her tactics of retreat evi
dently corresponding with those of Mr.
Lorimer; but I intercepted her boldly.
'Do let me speak,". I urged. "I am
so thorodgbly convinced that Isabel is
misunderstood, wronged by both of you;
unconsciously, of course, but still
wronged. ' A little explanation"--!
But I had chosen my expression ill.
"Wronged!? Mrs, Vivian repeated
with flashing eyes Ji Wronged!"
"I beseech you to be patient," I said,
half smiling. "I am but a bungling old
woman, but I love my iliece" as my own
child, and J cannot witness hHr-Unhap-piness
without some attempt, however
awkward, to arrest it. Do you imagine
she is happy, Mrs. Vivian?"
"Yes, or at least I imagine her to hte
a constitutional guarantee against the re
verse,'.! was the-reply; "an entire unmiti
gated -heartlessuessv ' Oh, my dear
inadam, yoil touch a sore place by your
appeal! I cannot contain myself when
I think how my brother has sacrificed
himself to that girl! Wise men are the
greatest fools in love," she pursued rap
idly; "and when they married, he doted
upon her shadow. Nothing he could
give her was too good for her, or rather
he never considered how much he gave
her.. I never liked the marriage; but I
would hAVhli jsuyjeaee and received
her as a sister had she loved him. - Bui
she cared nothing for hTui! How dared
she-sell herself thus? and accept not only
his wealth and position, but his true no
ble affection as mere tribute to her puer
ile attractions, without having anything
to give in exchange not even a heart?
What did she reckon herself worth? and,
good Heavens! how, long the man was
befooled!" . .
Mrs. Vivian paused, exhausted, and I
tried to seize my opportunity. "Granted
that she' was guilty of marrying him
without loving him," I said; "Consider
the great temptations offered, not by his
position chiefly, but by the ardor of his
own passion; aud at least she was free
from the greater guilt of loving any one
else. Ah, I understand your sneer, Mrs.
Vivian, but I repeat you wrong Isabel.
She may have been selfish, weak,, and
vain, and have had her j'oung head
turned by flattery her ' husband's flat
tery more than any other but she has
a heart; she feels deeply, passionately;
she repents the past; she lives her hus
band now." ....
Mis. Vivian shook her head scorn
fully. !'She deceives you, perhaps' she
deceives herself. She repents the loss
of, his love, I doubt not, because it in
volves the loss of her power; she may
even, in -the spirit of coquetry, be .anx
ious to possess herself or it again. Uut
love that is, unselfish affection is be
yond her. I think it probable she may
dread the consequences of this alienation,
but she need not be afraid; my brother
is so chivalrous that, did he feel her a
heavier burden than he does, he wouhl
not shake her off at the expense of her
own humiliation." ..
My cheek flushed. I felt too indig
nant to find words. Mrs. Vivian per
ceived it, and continued more gently:
'We view this matter very differently, of
course; but you must remember I have
this advantage over you I have been a
witness of their married life of his de
votion, patience, and blindness, of her
egregious vanity, exigence, and selfish
ness. : But it is over now; she can never
delude him again. From the moment he
became convinced all his love had been
wasted that there had never been a mo
ment's response to his disinterested af
fection that, in fact, she had married
him for his money the enchantment was
dispelled. What he has suffered, God
only knows. I imagine 1 hear the tone
of his voice no as when he said to me:
She ?ici;er loved me, Caroline; she de
ceived mo from her first kiss;' and can
you wonder that my imagination is bo
strong?" ,
I was silent. I felt it would be vain
to protest.
"I must go, she said, rising. "We
will not quarrel over this matter you
and I;" and she held out her hand with
a smne.
"Only one word more," I said, retain
ng it. If you may admit it as a pos
sibility if there should ever be a hope
of reconciliation, you will not. mar it?
I mean, you will not use your influence
against the wife?"
"Impossible! she said; but my im
portunity succeeded in winning the prom
ise from her. 1
When Mrs: Vivian came down stairs
to make her departure, Isabel was stand
ing in the hall, waiting to bid her guest
farewell. Little Lily was clinging to
her side, timid, tender, and silent as
seemed her wont. The sight of the fair
mother and child thus linked together
seemed to touch, Mrs. Vivian. Yielding
to what was evidently a sudden impulse,
she went up to Isabel and took her
hand.' :..,,
"Good-bye, Mrs. Lorimer.- I cannot
help feeling 1 kind of pity ; for you, in
spite of your couduct-iu spite, too,; of
your contemptuous : disclaimer," she
added, smiling, for Isabel had winced at
the expression, and dtaititfg tip ter
graceful neck, looked haughtily down,
upon 'the sympathizer, r f'Haye you any
idea,", pursued Mrs. Vivian, after a mo
ment's reflection, "what business it . is
that takes your' hflsbafid to Glasgow at
this particular time? No! I hardly
think Lorimer is right to leave yOu' un
warned that there is a fearful chance of
your losing all that you value highest.
1 he -shock may be too much tor you,
I feared an ebullition of passion from
Isabel, but she had learned many a lesi-
son of self-control since I had known
her as a girl, and she only .looked con
temptuous. , .,,,..-.,.
"3Iy husband's absence constrains me
to bear his sister's insults in silence,"
she replied with an air of dignity; "and
I wish to know nothing that he chooses
to keep back from mo. Kiss your Aunt,
Lily, and bid her good-bye. ' And so
parted the sisters.
It was not entirely a melancholy time
that jjaabel and I passed together during
the protracted absence of her husband.
The country was beautiful, and all the
elegant appliances of enjoyment which
we had at command were so pleasantly
new to me, that I found it impossible to
resist external influences. Beside, I have
a passion for children, and even had I
not, I must have loved Isabel's. Baby
Bella was a paragon of infantile vigor
and beauty, and Lily had all the exqui
site tenderness and sweetness of ,a child
destined to but brief probation. To Is
abel it was a great relief to have some
one with her to whom she could confide
all the incidents, faults, and disappoint
ments of her married life, and who never
wearied of speculating with her on her
chances of reconciliation and happiness.
Beside she was free to follow the bent
of her feelings; she had no part to play,
no spurious pride to' maintain.' Mr.
Lorimer's letters were not of: a cheering
character; they were cold and reserved
in style, and spoke of his business en
gagements as of a momentous and disas
trous character, without further explana
tion. Isabel seemed strangely indiffer
ent on the subject, except as it might af
fect her husband's happiness; but I con
fess I was not so unworldly. I wrote to
my brother, and requested him to let me
know what rumors were afloat in London
respecting the firm of Glitter & Co.
The answer I received . alarmed me.
Hitherto, I had never heard Robert ex
press anything but the most extreme ad
miration ' for the vast extent, financial
management, and unlimited credit of the
establishment; aow, he wrote as if it had
been from its commencement a huge
swiudle. He said its solvency was
doubted, its credit shaken, its immense
wea5 th a-doluLon;.'' VI "belie vie,. Lorimer
is thc'bnly moneyed : man of the batch,
and when the crash comes, as come it
will, as far as his means go, he will have
to pay the piper. Had he been the
prudent man and affectionate husband
I thought him, he would have settled
that fine estate of his on Isabel and her
children at the time of his marriage. ' If
he has not taken the precaution of en
tailing it, which I very much doubt, be
and everything must go to the dogs."
Then followed unreasonable and selfish
regrets for his daughter, "who might
have done much better' which I spare
the reader! !
This letter made me miserable. I
dared not tell Isabel, for I did not feel at
Iiberty to do so, when her husband kept
her iu ignorance of his affairs, added
to which,' I knew not what measure
of belief to yield to my brother's state
ments. There was nothing for it but to
wait; but every proof . of wealth, every
sign of luxury around me, became irk
some and intolerable. Poor Lily's ' tiny
pony-chair, with its : mniature steed,' to
procure which, from its native island, no
expenses or trouble had been spared
even the very baby's lace robes as
sumed a melancholy and sinister aspect
to my morbid vision. , Isabel's costly
dresses, of which she was so careless,
distressed me; the daily elegance of the
table appointments, gave me a pang: I
went about under a cloud, or rather un
der a painful iUuminotion which I dared
not shed on my companion. The ordeal,
however, was not destined to last very
long. One morning about a fortnight
after I had heard from my brother, Isa
bel dropped her husband's bi-weekly
letter with a sudden' exclamation: ' I
looked up, frightened,' yet ha If. relieved
at the sight of her pale face and excited
manner. : Had the crash come? .Had
he told her? ;I perceived she had
stretched out her hand eagerly for the
morning paper, which stili lay unopened
on the table; but her1 agitation1 bewil
dered hef. She took it up aimlessly,
then put it down, and turned again to
the letter, which her trembling - hand
could scarcely hold. ;
"Isabel, my darling, my poor child!"
I cried, going up to her, and kissing her
with fervor
is is Mr.' Lorimer
She put the letter in my hand. "Bead
it; give me a few minutes, and then come
to me, Aunt Sarah;, and she left the
room. . . . . ,!
Poor girl? she could not but feel it.
Mr. Lorimor's letter began as follows:
"I take great blame to myself Isabel,
that I have kept you ignorant ; of the
state of my affairs until the public papers
will announce my ruin to the world at
large this morning; but 1 ha'e hoped
against hope that this calamity might
have been averted, and your peace of!
mind undisturbed." . ,
The Tinies of that morning curtly an
nounced that 3Iessrs. Glitter of London
had stopped payment, that their liabili
ties were supposed to be enormous.
There was no comment; the public were
to wait for detail and ciriticism. ...
When I joined Isabel, I found her
walking up and down her dressing room,
holding ber baby in her arms. Sic
looked .comparatively calm, but there
s an expression of deep anxiety in ner
I began at once to enter on the sub
ject, for I wished to harden her for its
"Now the blow has fallen," she said,
"I feel it deeply. I feel if chiefly for
my husband, who, I imagine, has, never
contemplated the possibility, of being
poor. , I. cannot conceive how' he .will
jnoet it. If there 15 anv dipcnse attend-
ing it, it will kill hint, for he is a proud
mas. ' : Aunt Sarah," she added passion -r.
ately, "do you think this"; trouble will:
open his heart to me? .Do you' think; JHT
will allow me to love- him and console"
him. There U hot 'a kind word in' his
letter, not a relenting phrase. Oh! I
know how he feels more bitterly- agarfaef
me than ever, fcf fce fhicSs he has lost
all I loved or cared fcf."
"But now, dear child, yoflf will liable
to prove-your love.' ' .'"
- fcHow? Have I anything I. can give
him any resource i'a.r,. bread-getting? :
Oh, i is hard! , LiJy , my tender flower
will never thrive a poof man's 'child
And I O aunt, I love wealth and ease
dearly, dearly! Poverty will he bitter
Her tears choked her.
. "Too bitter a price to pay for , yout
husband's love?" I asked. ,
" I had no wish to blame her inconsist--ency
or reproach her for her lack' of he--roism.
- I knew she was showing me the
conflict of her heart, and it seemed i&
mc but a natural one.. She was no disci"
plined, high-minded woman, but a pas-v
sionate,disappointed girl,' shrinking, at
first sight, from the trouble which t
firmly: believed she would, in the end,
find strength and courage to ndure and
overcome. , , ' ,' '
"Ah! if I dared to"" lope 1 that,'
murmured, kissing her child, "I could .
bear anything.' '' I shall' sb6nkri6w my
fate. Oh! how shall I live till to-morrow."'
Her endurance was not exercised bo
long; that very evening Mr. Lorimer ar
rived unexpectedly by a late train'.1" The'
day had been wet ahd chilly, and Isabel
had ordered a fire iu her dressing . room,
over which she and I were sitting in mel
ancholy mood, wearied of the fruitless
yet incessant discussion of chances, at
the time of his' arrival. Isabel sprang'
up on hearing the sound of his voice v
the 1 ball., 7 What shall. I do?',' she; etr
claimed, clasping her hands. "I " am so
afraid of injuring my cause by oyer-pro-cipitancy,
so afraid of being misunder
stood repulsed. How shall I persuade'
him that I love him?" ; -,.-,.-,
"My darling, it seems to mo, it has-become
a very easy task."
We heard ' his voice approaching iiv!
the direction of our room. "On no ac
count disturb your mistress, he was say-"
ing to Isabel's maid; "she had no idea I
should return to-night."
"' Isabel threw Open the door, and stood
smiling in the entrance, her dress, fig
ure, and lovely touched with a charming
illumination from the blazing pine logs:
I thought what a charming, iuvitingvis--ion
she must appear to the hairasscd,
wearicd wanderer, coming in from tho
dark night. , .
i Mr- Lorimer stopped abruptly; hedid
not advance toward her. She had nyt
spoken; but though I could not see tlir
1 ner iaue;wel rgr
and snowed mo the intent vearclun-j:
"Maurice, dare I give you a welcome
. She sprang forward, and threw her"
arms ronnd his neck. Is it possible" that
he can put her from him without a mo
ment's return of the old love an invol
untary response 1 to the thrilling eni--brace?
Yes; he frees himself gently but
coldly, and taking her by the hand, leads
her back without a word into' the. i oopi.
He1 has her now in the full blaz? of the
fire-light, and he still keeps his hold of
her hand his scrutiny of ber face. How
altered has his own become; how pale and
worn! . When he spoke at length, the
mingled restraint "and anguish of hi
voice made iny heart ache. "Yo. have
not received my letter this morning, T
abel? You are always a careless . stu
dent of thet newspaper?- You do not
know?" , ' .
-: "Here is your letter; there' lies the-'
newspaper. I ' am ' sorry, 5 ' Maurice--"
deeply sorry;-. I. love wealth, ag you
know; I dread poverty; but if it was(tbe:
only price at which your faith . in mo
could be bought, I am glad we are pbqr
I have not always loved you but I love
you now; I have not donemy'dnty hith
erto I will try ud doit bvWi,, i$elieve;
mer help mel". ;,. ... j T..j .
, He turned from her, and. covered laSr
face 1 with Tiis hand. j H " '' J
"It is a woman's generosity;' he saidj.
"the sexJs passion for self-sacrificc!". '?
"It is. a woman's , passion; . a ; wifoV
love," she answered, raising her glowing'
face. ."Maurice, is it for me to plead?" -She
made a movement as if she woulcf
have k nclt. before him,' and threw - her'
arms around his knees. , ; 1 v, . ,!.
. I waited just one;. half-moment .. lor, a
stire myselft with, an , old , woman's love
of demonstration, that she did not plead
In vain. I saw him raise her in his
arms, saw the passionate kiss that sealed
the renewed troth, and indistinctly beard'
as I flitted away through the, dim corri
dor, the tones of his voice tremulous
with more than a lovor's fervor : ""
Three moisths later, Mr.' and Mr;.-
... w . ...... w . w WMVA VIA, WI V
former had a brother established as a
merchant. There were not many tears
shed by cither, for in that time their lovti" "
and mutual dependence-had groirn to
strong and intimate that no grief seeatai.!
intolerable which tbey shared together:
In the arrangement of his affairs,he bad
been actuated but by one motive to sat
isfy every claim as far as the luost Scru
pulous honor dictated, even to the last
fraction of his estate. Three hundred j,
year had been affixed to Isabel by mir--riage
settlement, but hr some Wal in.-
advertency, the deed prored invalid, and
her litt!c fortune went fn tht
wreck. Mr. Lorimer regretted the loss,
but I knew Isabel was dad -of it - Ilr
1 1 1st words as we parted on the . deck of
iuo vessel were to me. w phall soi
come back to Old England agani,' said
she, gaily, "till we have grrwn rich,
enough to buy bael - Mort0i) Leas; so
don't.fail to let us know when t is iu the
This was said tea yesrs ago, sjjcT cow-
my old heart beats with the hop cf tee
ing them once more. To-day, j re.
ceived mj pictorial letter from Montreal
and what says Isabel? "We arc coming
home, Aunt Sarah, to realize my propb.
eoy, ' Morton Lejs ,iV in .the,., market
though you have kept a trcachcToua -lonoe;
nay, it is doubtless our ovf a al
ready: Tell my Cither that Maurice
shto thorn nbnll h nit -1 -in ,mibin.
J t
rigorous entail of the-estate;, and-. how
proud shall you . and I, .be, . tit .-beloved
aunt mother, to watch our boy flytrg
kite over his inali'naW acr1 ' ' 1
Ana' 1-...V..A ...I; l . -;..: .. i-ti'l

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