Muscatine journal. [volume] (Bloomington, Iowa) 1849-185?, 1853-12-30
myself will be yours, Charles, now and

him the happiness he sought gently, kindly
he released himself from that dear embrace,
saying
"Not so, dearest, you shall reward me-
Tell me of any sacrifice for your dear sake,
and | will do it, though it be to never see
you more. Our love, Mary, shall not be
classed with the vile o. the earth--your pu-
rity shall never be stained by me remem-
Der that ours is an affection from childhood,
grown with US, rooted in good soil, and so
firmly planted that even these tempests will
harm it not. will be true to thee far or
near and you-?"
"And l, Charles, will strive to do my du-
ty, and win our pardon from God for the
sin we have committed.o
In sentiments such as these they comfort
ed one another when she was weak,
he was strong; and wien he was
weak, she was strong and thus they were
preserved. All excitement past, and their
love regained much of its early tone by
the firm desire and intention Of doing right,
they also regained happiness; dark hours
would still sometimes come to both, and it
was in such an hour that our opening scene
occurred, to which we must now return.
Mary remained q few minutes in her no ON,
and now having summons, descended to
see who the visitors were. She had calmed
her rebellious thoughts by prayer, which
was becoming daily more and more attended
to; her Bible, also, was her constant COM
panon, and before she had left her room
she had found strength to THANK God that
the time was fixed for Charles DEPARTURE
As she entered the room she was met by
him with his hat in his hand.
81 was going, Mary. am ashamed of
myself, and do not deserve the conf fort of
remaining with you"
"Who were the visitors % eagerly asked
she.
"Only cards, suppose, as no one has
been here. How pale you look, and oil
through me Thank God, dearest. it will
not be long in my power to torment you as
L do, but, o-day, felt ] must see you"
"And so you shall. 1t is /, much fear,
who am the selfish one," was the low reply.
"No Nobody cares about me but you, and why
| think SO much of the opinion of others is
to me extraordinary, but 1t is SO new thing
to me to be acting contrary to my notions
of right-to be, in fact, as am--that may
well shudder at sound, and 90 nearly mad
at being thought an unchaste person."
"All that exists only in your Imagination
for you well know how entirely made my
mother rctract her words and that at the
present hour, there is not one who does not
think you pattern wife,
Il am a pattern wife = was the reply in
proud tones which sank to the humhlest. as
she claspcd her hands in agony, and added,
'.hut no longer an inspected one,' and a
burst of tears ended the phrase. ssDon .
touch me for the world !" .hc said as he ap-
approached her. '.Pardon me, Charles.o
she continued, as saesaw the pain her words
had caused him s'bear with me and pity
me. | tell you there never lived woman
who was more unsuited for this position
than am. Better, far better for me to be
no, no | cannot say it.o
~ shall soon be gone, perhaps forever,
Mary; and then my touch wilt no longer
pollute you"
These words were scarcely said before she
threw herself into his arms, sobbing with
renewed agony at hearing his heart break
ing words; he soothed her, quieted her, and
she withdrew and held out her hand, saying:
81 think, dearest, should be better if you
would leave me; Twill go to my room and
read, and try to compose myself; | am not
well to day.
"Any thing on earth, Mary, that can give
you ease or peace willdo."
"Iknow you will | believe it firmly. To-
day am good deal excited shall sooh be
better you know solitude always does me
good. Oh! when think upon the happi-
ness we might have, and when | think upon
you, self condemned to a solitary existence,
Charles, you can never sustain life ~
10 L
abrupt and determined reply, sand will 70
''Tell me anything but that" she said in
a beseeching tone; 81 will bless the hour
that moves the ban you have placed upon
yourself Did | but know your affections
were given to some pure being worthy of
you, | should regain peace
"That you will never know. Danish the
idea, Mary, for could never love but y you.
have ever loved you and will. should
despise myself were ever to feel for an
other as do f0ry you. How often hase you
heard me say believe that love is felt but
ence; and in hearts formed as ours, 1T be-
comes a blessing or a bane. But ours shall
be a blessing. And now, dearest, l will
leave you, and not come here till you sum-
mon me; only remember that in two months
l shall be beyond the reach of your dear
summons, and therefore | pray you to be
merciful, and not Danish me long l am
convinced am better for seeing you"
''Come when you please" was the an
swer, as he left the room.
The two months passed, and the hour
arrived that was to separate them. Words
are in vain to record such scenes enough
is told when We say that no change came
over .ae good resolutl ms they had formed,
and that Mary sought and found strength
to bear that parting. Months, perhaps
years, were to pass before they met, and
yet they carried out their intentions. How
hard it was to do SO, let those judge who
like such votaries of love, have existed
only for each other; who have no hope, no
joy, no sorrow, but what springs from the
one Created for each other, it was
separation almost of existence.
1t was agreed between them that they
should correspond as they had ever been
in the habit of doing. Mary retired from
society and sought peace in life of use-
fulness and active exertion. Their lives
were benefited by the spirit of love, that
shed its light around them; they were in
the world, but not of the world. Religion
became the ground work of their hafpi-
ness and though apart, they wer0 in heart
ever together. Their lives were one, and
each became more worthy of the exalted
affection they possessed. And thus passed