Des Moines courier. ([Ottumwa] Iowa) 1848-1854, 1850-03-22

uiSrust NY husDdnu. eS, learned &c
dIstrust, and at last to hate (or at leas
thought diD that husband who had al
ways lavished upon me every kindness
l never quarrelled with him. No
was too innaiely proud for that; bu,
allowed myself 10 brood upon my silent
growing hate, and oh, there is no feeling
on this earth that so nigh warps the
brain TO madness as the hate born zeal
ously. You know my frank. open dis.
position. Emily. So went to him, and
with my mouth in the dust, asked for q
separation. Oh, never did the poor
doom sacked victim of the Bosphorus
beg for life, as ] for the blessed privilege
of going from his presence forever
with our only child. He tried to reason
with me, but ] was mad, Emily, and
have been mad since. | asked for moth
ing bat my child, and pleaded with an
earues'ness which he saw was needless
to resist.
So, Emily, / Will pass on to the an
nouncement Of my widowhood--when
| went forth TO the world hypocrite in
widows weeds. My husband wrote to
me three times during the first year oi
our separation, imploring me by every
precious tie to permit him even by
stealth TO look once more upon the face
of his child. To every entreaty | re-
turned cold, s'ern, hard answer, and
for all this, have dearly bitten the dust
since. The years sped on which retur-
ned no more, and my child began to ex-
pand into loveliness which was almost
superhuman. Strange as it may appear
to you, again learned to love my hus-
band through his child. When she
spoke to me it was her fathers voice,
every lineament was his, and | so loved
my husband through her. Strange in
consistency you may call this, but ii is
nevertheless true. / knew that he was
alive, for regularly every year have re.
ceived small provision for our main
tenance through unknown hands. This,
with the little patrimony received from
my father, enabled me to live far above
want-actually affording many of the
little Injuries of life. You little know
how / have yearned to look once more
upon my husbands face. Oh Emily!
| thought if could but see him, all
might be made up. was prepared to
humble myself in the very dust, that
might be taken back TO his heart once
more. ! knew not where to direct even
a letter to him, and like poor condemn.
ed criminal dared not make open inqui.
ry; for in The eyes of the world | was a
widow and my poor child an orphan
So well have | played my part in hypoc.
risy, that no one has ever dreamed ol
my husbands existence.
IL believe that knew, and loved YOU
too, for nearly four years, and that brings
me to nearly a widowhood of thirteen
years. | had almost ouilived the hope
OF ever again seeing my husband. wher
about three weeks since | received a
small note from him, announcing that he
was in Mobile, and most anxious to see
the child OF his youth--that he would
call on me the evening of that day, as
an old friend Of The family, promising
under any circumstances not to reveal
himself 10 Ada. Oh! the hours of thai
day were so 'leaden paced = AT last he
came at o'clock. parted with my
husband, a tall straight figure, with ligh
blue eyes, and dark curling hair--and
shook hands with him after lapse o.
thirteen years, perfect Indian in com
plexion, an enlarged robust figure, eyes
somewhat darker, and his hair, insteat
Of grey, was as black as night. lying il
thick masses oflarge manly crispy curls
Never would ! have recognized the hus.
band of my youth in the fne-lookins
Emiddle-aged man | presented to my
daughter as the friend of her father.
had prepared her TO receive him affection
ately, and the warm welcome she exten
ded, assuring him that any one who hat
known her father should have the warm
est corner of her heart, was beyond con
ception painful to both of US. They
had long and interesting conversation
He inquired about her studies, and seem
ed pleased with the progress she ha,
made, making her promise with my per
mssion) TO correspond with him unde
the assumed name Of Dunslow. Whil
in conversation with his child, ha,
written few lines, stating my earnes
4 .. r q