Staunton spectator, and general advertiser. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 183?-1849, 1839-12-05

i'' however gay where, from
So.,ie source or other, there was not as much
suffered as enjoyed1 Did ever attend ono
In which did not hear or see expressed the
workings of envy, of jealousy, of contempt. or
oil ridlcule! In such scenes did not eype-
renee quite as much pain as pleasure, I'M
less, indeed, could secure the undivided at
ten'lon oil George! And now he is all nv
own and drive him from me! What did I
not endure while doubtful whether he loved
me. whether he would ask me to he his
w hat Were my thoughts when he once said
:? me, That with his present fortune. he
should not dare to ask the woman that he
loved 20 unite her fate with his on account of
the privations she must undergo O, did /
not think with him fora companion, The most
humble establishment would be paradise .
and that no seli-denial would be severe and
now that am his wife, drive him from me
by my unreasoning and cruel repininable, o.
where can he beg Again she went to the
window; to the door. In vain; no husband
was to be seen or heard. How gloomy. how
desolate, did her comfortable and well-fur-
nlshed little parlor appear as she re-entered
lt.-'Oh! cried she, 'what sunshine would
his smile shed around! but have displeased.
grievcd, wounded, forced him frommeq
Never had any hour in Mrs. I.idley's life
dragged itself along soslowly as the present
and 1t was not until the clock had struck ten.
that the well-known footstep of her husband
met her listening car. With a bound she
met him in the entry. 80, my dear George,
how glad am you are Gomez Her husband
made no distinct answer, but entered the mar
Tor, and advancing to the mantel, rested his
elbow upon 1t, and leaned his head upon his
hand. His countenance was clouded, vet
more In sorrow than in anger
dearest George, will you forgive me q
said the trembling wife; while She twined
her arm in his, and looked up inplorinqly in
his face, will you, can you forgive my folly!
my cruelty 2
yes, Emily: can do any thing you ask
of me-
90, George; don'tspcak so coldly; so sad
~. Alas, l have made you very unhappy
You have, Emily, for fear your union
with me requires some sacrifices you are un-
able cheerfully to make
30, say not; think not so, my dearest hus-
band for Notwithstanding appearances are
SO much against me, it is not so. Since you
LETT me this evening she added, while faint
smile strove to chase away the gathering tears;
since you left me, have had ample time for
reflection; for retrospection. / have review
ed my unmarried and single life and my cruel
ty,my ingratitude,my childish perverseness to-
night, have caused the most bitter self.un-
braldings.-May you never know pane
like that which shot through my heart, when
the thought struck me, that the great Dispo-
ser of events, might free me from care, as he
had freed poor Charlotte, by taking from me
my husband and child cannot forgive nv
self; but o, say that you forgive mel
''Forgive you, dearest Emily; have no.
thing to forgive, ifyou will only be happyn
90, am most happy! most blessed! bles-
sed in having such husband! This bitter
hitler evening has taught me, that all the
joys of life cannot be crowded into one state,
or one period; and do think | can never a.
gain regret the giddy pleasures of my youth,
while In possession of those so much more
precious. Henceforth it shall be nv plea
sure to strive to make you as happy as YOU
make me; and to educate our boy to be as
much like his father as possible. O, say
once more that you forgive me; for depend
upon it, / can never again be so foolish so
cruel; so wicked!'
The husband bent forward, and imprinted
long kiss on the forehead of the suppliant.
She looked up, and his eyes, beaming with
love and renewed confidence, gave her.per-
feet assurance that all was forgiven! forgot
ten!