Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1853-02-23
Cbuirt Titrratu
From the New-York Organ.
THE CREOLE WIFE.
A ROMANCE OF THE WEST.
ny MRS. NJ. A. DENIsoN.

Rosa, covered with bruises from head TO
foot, was for long while in situation Of
danger.
BY degrees poor Grace came out Of her
lcthargy, but alas not to reason. That
dread, dark name Of disgrace was stamped
Npon her brain. She imagined that Rosa
stood constantly near her, pointing the finger
Of contempt, and forever mutteriCg that cru
el word. As she gained her strength, she
became more than ever anxious for solitude.
Often would she be missed from her familiar
places invariably she was found crouched
in the darkest hooks, cndeavoring to hide
herself from the being who pursued her
She was perfectly harmless she would still
curl and arrange her soft, smooth tresses
with the precision usual with her, and ar.
range them with rs much taste as ever, yet
she constantly asserted that there was coal
of fire upon her head.
She would take her books from day to
day, with her accustomed work, and engage
in reading or sewing for few moments, then
wander restlessly about She seemed fond
of reading over the old letters of her lover,
but she would sometimes say, lie loves me
no longer am not fit for him now as
she flushed pcrusing them at others she
would implore him not to desert her, assu-
ring him that he knew rot he could not
know the depth Of ter love for him.
1t was touching sight.
Her father hoped that Horace would new
er return, it would be as well he thought :;
Grace could not, of course, become his wife
now, even il he were willing to marry her
He did not give her the young mans letters
he answered them cautiously, telling him
that Grace was indispoSed.
Their retreat, for they were now in their
new home, was very beautiful. A little
house, situated on a slight decliyity, near
tract of rich woodland, approachable as
yet only by a foot path. Around the dwell
ling stood tall trees, in summer covered with
glorious foliage; to the right and far in the
soft distance, wild rocky mountain, bare,
yet fantastic in outline, threw its shaggy sum
init against the sky, and on every hand were
the sweetest rural spots it was a very par
adisein beauty.
at times partially forgot her grief and il
was not till the hurry and hustle of moving
were over, and comparative quiet and order
reigned, that the old vision returned though
not accompanied with such sad effects as for
merly.
Often her father would walk with her in
to the old gray woods, or mounting thei
horses, they would ride away for miles to
gethcr. Every moment the erring fathe
devoted to his child, and surely if work
could eIpiate for sin, such devotion wen
not unrcwarded.
One morning Judge Stanton had occasion
to visit the town he set out in unusual
good spirits. lie had been reviewing hi
life all over, as he often did of late, but thi
time his thoughts took a more cheerful turn
Surely he thought, | have drained tn
cup of affijction to its very dregs; the COZ
sequences Of my sin must now be arrested
My blessed child is not wholly unhappy, he
lunacy is harmless, and at times she seem
like her dear selfGgan 4; and more-blesse
be Cod am not living in SIN
Thus he reasoned, trusting he had som
slight hopes of happiness again.
Entering the town by the most rcmot
thoroughfares, he concluded his purchase
learned that his imperious child was slovI
gaining strength, heard the news, and 5,
out OH his return quite near evening.
At the Post Office there was a letter fro
Horace. lie broke the seal eagerly, an
red 1t slowly. Ii abounded in tenderness
and tears filled his eyes as he came to IL
following:
| have learned all, Grace learned
with great sorrow, for your sake. Let II
tell you dearest and do not doubt me, th
never loved you so we'll as now that I'll
news makes not the least alteration in n
feelings. Dear, blessed Grace long to
near you so much the more, and shield "
by the sacred tic of wife from the cruel al
the thoughtlcss. As your husband tho
let me the sooner have the right to protc
you | shall fold you TO my bosom on /
return with fourfold of the love with whi
first bcheld YOU
The Judge could read no farther oh, HI
utterly wretched, how guilty did he fl
himself then.
Noble fellow, he exclaimed, genero
Horace-what shall say to you how bre
the sad intelligence? Alas he will retu
to find her broken hearted-he will retu
to curse me. Miserable being that am
why, why do / live to blight every beautil
thing that crosses my path 7
When he had gained sufficient composu
nc resumed the letter. Horace was medi
ting a return the following month.
His fathers affairs were all settled, a
an uncle recently deceased, had left hin
small fortune, most of which he should sci
upon his mother and sisters the rest wo
suffice him, with what his profession mi
afford him.
He ended with assuring Grace that
love was unaltered and unalterable.
Slowly the wretched father iourne
homewards not a word had been said ab
him he wasfiled with fore6odings ofglo
lie sighed as be passed the quiet grave y;
its ghostly head stones so pale in the nlC
light. lie wished that he too, and CIR
laid beside the gentle wife and mother.
His thoughts were not calm and holy
uitcd the scene before him.