The spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1840-1844, 1842-12-02

cred; her delicate complexion utterly destroyed;
her eyes sunken, and The redundant tresses which
used to wave so gracefully about her head, were
replaced by false braids and cape. She was no
longer beautiful, md seemed already an old wo-
man. The past appeared all dreanl-ihere was
no identity between this faded feeble woman and
the bright happy girl who used to shed around her
a perpetual sunshine. There was languid fret
inlness about her manner that Jared strangely on
my feelings, and saw with sorrow, that the sweet
hess and buoyance of her temper, were totally
gone. She was the FIRST TO speak of the past.
had never alluded to i,-but she spoke of freely
and fully.
'You have not perhaps, heard that Captain
I.orimer is dead she observed, and | started TO
hear his name from her lips in tone orsuch COM
posture. 'lli had been otherwise. you would not
have seen me in England; for from that moment
left it ! vowed never to set foot in the country
whose air he b,calhed. | doubt not, Edmund that
you have often wondered why was silent as to
the cause of our separation but at the time it took
place, it seemed to me too utterly horrible to be
was pouring his vows into my delighted ear, at the
very time he was using every art to win my atec-
lion-lhe first affection Of an innocent unSuspect-
ing girl--at that very time he was the husband Of
another. THERE have spoken il at lust-he was
the husbpne of another! Let me brealhe-let me
breathe freely, and will tel! you the particulars
Of the affair, as far us know them.
From the time our Acquaintance commenced, he
seemed to be inspired with passion for me, hut
there was something gloomy ard strange about hun
at times--a shadow crossing his brow in the very
mids, of gaiety. for which was at a loss to ac-
count. ! knew at once he loved me, and return
ed hs love with my whole heart, You know how
free from all disguise used to be, and you Will
easily suppose ,ha, Lorimcr must soon have been
aware that our affection was mutual.
'Yc. it was long before he spoke of lovc-at
least to me, whose Whole heart was his before he
asked it, it seemed that his delay vas niermln-
able, lie frequently left town for three or four
days, and at every parting my heart hrobbed with
hope, ,ha. the expected avowal would come; but
still the opportunity passed, and though his looks
were eloquent, his lips were silent. But he re-
turned from one of these excursions an altered
man. His face was no longer gloonly, his man
ner no more rcserved-lhe seal was removed from
his heart, and its feeling, gushed forth in Words
My father approved of our engagement; for Lori
dcr was ola noble family, and had excellent pros
poets, Oh, Edmund, those were happy days!
There was still one strange circumstance about
his condnct. Nothing could induce him to agree
to remain in England. His present fortune and
future prospects at home rendered il quite unncc-
essary, for him to seek his fortune abroad, but he
seemed to have an unconqucrable dcsle to visit
India, and 90 he would My father did not Of
fer any opposition TO the plan, for it was natural
that he should wish TO have his only child as near
him as he could, and as 10 me, if were only with
Lorimcr, did not care in what country in the
wide world my lot might be cast.
oh, that love was the summer Of my fn--and
the memory of its light and beauty mun,s me, as
the summer Of his own land must come back nron
the memory of him who wanderS in the regions Of
eternal sorrows My winter fell upon me in an
hour, and nothing on earth can bring freshness and
sunshine again TO my dessoalc heart.
'You know how made the discovery SO fatal
10 my peace. You know tina, Howard Maitland
revealed that wocful truth that pierced my heart
like a sword. 1t seemed that he was almost con-
Ilent of Lorimcr's marriage, which had taken
place three or four years before. 1t was kept
strictly secret, for the woman he had welded was
of very low birth, though believe, exceedingly
beautiful. Maitland had never seen her, bu, he
ard Lorimcr had been friends from childhood, and
he was in possession Of the secret. The wife 10
whom Lorimcr had bound himself was ulmos, en-
tire'y unedncaed--and as he found to his cost, Of
a particular bad temper She had no children TO
strengthen the tic between lem-and at the time
first net him, he was heartily tired Of her Then
it was he saw all he had lost by his early rashness
for he loved me ut once, sclfshly own, bu, mad
! ly and passiona,ey as man could love. And
was his equal IN BIRTH and fortune and education,
and might have been his, but for the fatal barrier
his own hand had raised between US. Surely il
was the spirit of evil that prompted The thought
that it nigh. be removed. This plan was formed
at once; he offered the unfortunate wife whom he
loved no longer, an ample settlement If she would
still conceal the fact Of their marriage. Fci
! =
and by c,er,wcre unasang; but at last he wrung
from her n promise, that while n considerable
annuity was actually paid her she would keep the
secret. Still he felt Tint he would be safer in
foreign land than in his own country ;and hence his
great anxiety to go out 20 India. Capt. Maitland
was on the continent during these transactions, and
Lorimer's designs was, on his return home. TO in