Wisconsin tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1847-1854, 1853-02-24

i !
but [ knew not that it was a mocking,
-fendish smile at the misery he knew l
was suffering, and so we parted
a brilliant future lay before me-at
least my friends said so. / was young.
wealthy, and they said I was talented
They wished me to turn my attention to
the law, prophesying for me bright ca
reer, but to no purpose. Hope was dead
ambitions voice was hushed, and the
future had no charms for me. | grew
morose and taciturn. and withdrew from
I society, refusing all invitations to mingle
with the young and gay, saying
"Why should 20 with them They
are happy, but joy is not for me-
Nearly two years had passed when
one day, IN glaacing over the papers, 1
read the marriage of Annie. James
Morton, brother Of the Carrie Morton.
whom l told you was her intimate friend,
and who spoke 50 warmly in her favor
was her husband But what cared 2
Did [ not know her to be false Ii was
nothing to me that another had won her.
It was thus that l reasoned, yet I do re
member confused ringing in my ears.
and a sudden shock. as though stunned
by heavy blow. as soon as | was con
scious oG what l had read.
But l rallied my strength again, and [
thought [ would comply with the ofC-re-
peated wishes Of my friends, who, wish
ing to draw me from seclusion. urged me
to turn my attention to professional pur-
suits 1t was but for a moment that I
wavered. The quiet, secluded life which
led here in my ancestral home. where
my sires had dwelt, accorded far better
with my wounded feelings than would
the hustle. cares and toll while pursuing
fame
1t was about three years after Anuie's
marriage. that business led me to the vii
lage Of O., where I first met her
How every scene aud every object
served to remind me of the past. l rode
bv tie Mansion House. where we had
met on the morning Of that brief and
happy day [ inquired for Frank, and
learned that be was In southern city.
emiu-ntly successful as physician |
drove through the woods where l had
been before with a light and happy heart
alas, how changed now. l wandered
down by the green river bank. and Iincer-
ed upon il beneath the shade of those
magnificent trees, for tender thoughts
swept across my soul. Here I had lis
tened to words doarer to me than life,
words that were but idly pledged. aud had
been broken-ah. how lghtly--and bitter
feelings rose within me as ! reviewed the
past
~As the village inn I inquired for all
my old acIuaiutances, except Annie. Of
her [ spoke mott could not speak of her
when they told me that she was happy
as the wife Of another I was informed
by the garrulous landlord that Carrie
Morton was the wife Of a farmer in the
, uel-Lb5rlood. aud I felt an irresistible
desire 10 see her | found her bat little
changed from the gay. laughing girl Of
five years before. although her sunny hair
was changed to a deeper brown and she
had acquired a matronlg dignity that was
quite WIte-lIke.
"She received me very cordially, and
spoke Of our pleasant acquaintance dur
ing my brief sojouru in c., but never
once reverted to Annie
Il was dying to hear but one word re
garding her, Yet she never once referred
to her. What puzzled me still more, was
the strange expression Of her counteuauce
when in reply to questions, [ informed
her that / was unmarried, adding that L
; should live and die an old bachelor She
hastily waived the subject, as if uupleas-
ant to her.
just at this moment my attention was
p arrested by two children, apparently Of
the same age, who burst into the room,
ir0Lic.ng In all tie glee of innocent child
3 hood
Your children [ presume, said I. ad-
dressing Carrie. taking a fair-haired lit
tie girl upon my knee, and caressing her
as / sroke.
This is mine patting the curly head
j Of fine little boy The other is my
B niece. You know Annie Gray, said she,
after slight pause
Had a serpent stuug me, I could not
? have started quicker.
? Il had been caressing the child Of the
r very woman who had proved 50 false TO
me. yet I found strength TO speak, and
J family gasped-
E And Annie, IS she happy p
Il trust So was the reply. in sad
voice She. poor thing, suffered here
kcealv enough. but has at length gone
where sorrow never comes. Ga. It was
uukiud. it was cruel Of you to treat poor
{ Annie So and the tears ran down her
I cheeks
1t flashed upon me in a moment, with
: overwhelming force-Annie was dead.
How. what mean you " cried L I
: unkiad. I cruel You wrong me, indeed
: Did not Annie prove false to me p I al
most shrieked. dreadiDg yet wildly aux-
i3us to hear her say that Annie had been
: innocent. for such her words seemed to
imply.
: Can 1t be possible that you have been
deceived2 Annie loved you as she did
Der own soul said she.
But she sc0rned me-she wed anoth
err and I pointed to the little child IN
manner that must have terrified It, for Il
ran screaming to its aunt, and hid its face
IN her lap.
".Ah. there had been 4 sad wrong done
.---- LII, I F.r- I tsta- n me 2 nlnrnant