The Middlebury galaxy. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1848-1850, 1848-12-12
MISCELLANY.
From the Ladies' National Magazine
THE DESERTED WIFE.
By ALICE C. LEE.

CHATTER I.
She pressed back the Gu rls from her aching brow
With her fingers wan and white;
And the marriage ring. with its golden bend,
Shone out in the dim twilight.
He gave that ring s a pledge of his truth,
And he could not desert her
Of promise made in the sight of Heaven,
And he could not break that vow
On. no-he had only meant 10 try her
faith by that terrible letIer-it could not be
that he had left her lorever-it was Too base
al action for that noble heart that heart in
which she had reposed her happiness with
woman's pure and holy faith AS these
thoughts passed rapidly through her bewild-
cred mind, Lucy Clare looked again with
straining vision through the gathering gloom
of eveniide, and her beautiful face was light
ed by anticipation, Tor her ear had caught
| sound, and she ianced it was the pacing of
his horse upon the shaded path. Another
sappoinlment-agai her face was over
clouded, as she watched the gloomy avenue
in vain no form emerged from it, horse and
rider we're far distant. The dark, old trees
swayed heavily in the evening wind, and the
dull aud solemn music that they gave forth
was in unison with her feelings. But save
that dirge-like strain, and the lighter rustic
of the ivy wreaths that draped her window,
no sound came to her ear for long hours,
'hough she started oftentimes, assured that
she heard his tread upon the portico, or even
upon the very threshold.
Then she turned sck-hearteG from the
easement, and erasping the fatal letter that
had told her OF her own wrong, and her hus-
bands shame, moved to a glittering Candida
bra that had shed its oillight UNDECIDED near
her. There was deep red spot upon her
cheek. and The veined lids of her soft, blue
eyes, "heavy with the hearts dampness,"
dropped yet more as the well-known charac-
| ers met her view.
"Lucy-my wife Ii is the last time that
| shall ever call you by that hallowed name.
Ny soul is sulied by perjury, for have false
| y broken the vow that had made before
| high heaven 10 cherish and protect you, even
with my life. Base one that | am, with that
VOW rinsi ing in my ears, | leave you for an
other, and cast off every tic tina, has bound
me 10 innocence and virtue. dare not ask
you 10 pray for me-even your gentle heart
must curse one who has betrayed IFS perfect
trust. But think Of me sometimes, will you
not ?-wi!h pity, God knows need it even
now. Do not curse me, my Lucy-mine, a.
las no longer"
"And may God forgive thee! Arthur,
my husband, for come what may, in life or
death, we cannot be wholly divided!'
She pressed her hand convulsively to her
he ert as il TO still It's thick throbbings, while
her breath came fast and painfully, ill the
light drops of the cahdelabra flashed 10 and
fro, quivering and glittering in thousand
brilliant hues. She had grasped the gided
shaft of her harp for support while reading 81
but weary and exhausted, worn with waich-
ing and anxiety, her strength at last gave
l.
fiutiered with a quick, nervous movement,
and with long, low sob of agony she fell
upon the thick carpet as If dead. Could
there be life in these rigid and mo,ionless
limbs ?
II was near midnight when the old house
keeper, who had in vain sought 10 soothe the
terrible anxiety OF her mistress, frightened
by the unbroken silence that had so long
reigned within, entered the room unbidden
The trance had given place TO disturbed
and uneasy slumber; with head pillowed up
on her arms, and her hair unbound falling IN
masses upon her bosom, Lucy Clare had for
a time forgotten her misery. No, it was moi
wholly forgotten, for she moaned the name Of
her husband, and seemed begging him mol
TO leave her all alone-not 10 destroy the
happiness which lived upon his smiles and
tender words. Your own Lucy" she
murmured; "cal me your sweet wife; clasp
me once more 10 your heart..'
" Poor creature-dear child" said the old
lady. as she bore her slight form TO The next
apartment-as easily as if it had been an in
tanrs-and when she had tenderly arranged
her Tor the night, SO gently that Lucy knew
II not, she sat beside her. watching The resi-
less movements until they gave place to
heavy slumber.
The moonbeams rested upon the forehead
of the sleeper. Alas a warmer good night
kiss had been wont 10 rest there.
CHAPTER II.
1.-THE beamng eye was lovely.
And the coral lip was fair,
And the gazer looked and asked not
For treachery hidden there.
Young love at the altar
of broken faith is signing. 3 p SMITH