The Jackson standard. [volume] (Jackson C.H., Ohio) 1847-1888, 1854-10-05
CHAPTER II.
-- 1t may be a sound


A tone of music-summer evc-o
sprlng-A flower--the wind-the oceal
which shall wound,
Striking the electric chain wherewith W,
are darkIy bound. -BYRoN.
Hubert Lansing was lonely widower
and with health and fortune ruined. liz
sat alone in his room, conscious that tie
sands oflite were ebbing fast away. The
past and the present oppressed his soul
Ills children--his daughterS--to leave
them fliendless and renniless; and the
image Of Mary " ilder-his early love hi.
discarded brde-viydIy was she pictured
to his mind as he last saw her on the even.
ing of his marriage, and the tones of hel
voice seemed again to fall upon his ear a.
she parted with his sacred gift.
Of all whom he had showered benefits,
his heart turned to her as the only one
whose truth and benevolcnce he could,
with unwavcring confidence, intrust his
children but could a mind delicately
strung ask her TO take them to her home
and heart.
! thus wrapped in agoniGed thoughts
his daughters entered. The younger was
especially his child-the inheritor of his
intellect; and she bore, too, the name of
Maria. The mother had chosen the name
in memory of sister, but each time the
father murmured it, it had been fraught
with new memory. This child, too, was
the object of his greatest anxiety. There
was in her depth of telling, an intenSi-
ty of emotion, a capabilty of suffering
which he well knewrcquired the guidance
and sympathy Of a strong and atleclionate
spirit, and 10 whom could he commit so ho-
Iy trust?
He stretched his hand towards the
child, and said, Mary The word fell
upon his own heart with strange power.
There came back to him all the faith and
unreserve tinged with glow of his early
love, and in the fulness Of his heart he
wrote her -
Mary, | am stricken man the Lord
has laid his hand upon me. My wealth
is scattered, and that energy of charac-
ter, that strength Of intellect which first
won for me your undying love has waned
and is fast waning with my life. Yes, |
know that | am dying, that the decree is
irrevocable, nor can |, like the ancient
prophet, pray that may be prolonged
'For seventeen years, Maria Wilder,
your name has never passed my lips. nor
has my pen traced one word to you but
now the waters Of the great deep are
breaking up. l will not attempt to palli-
ate the past, but with my dying lips | af
firm that it was not in prospect of the
great wealth which | received with my
bride that caused me TO break my faith
with you, though know that | was daz-
zled with luxuriousne,s, the gems of art,
and the brilliant gaiety by which she was
surrounded, and the high position which
her father occupied in nation trust.
'Yes, Mary forgctful of you, pledged
myself to her; and you were almost lost
to me in the whirl of excitement which
followed, till, like a spirit from another
world, you appeared before me on the
evening of my marriage.
Then | became myself again. 1t
reused me TO consciousness, as the force
of sudden calamity will sometimes bring
to instant reason those made mad with al
cohol.
The enchanter's want was taken away.
What was luxury. or the works of art,
but that which sordid gold might pur-
chase? And Legislative fame, was it not
as often won by cunning and low cabel,
as by intellectual worth or moral power ?
And my bride-deep pity filled my heart
for her. and she became as dear to me as
sister.
i was glad when heard of your mar
riage. knew that love could never more
bloom in your heart--that the fire had
gone over your soul and lefti too 'Scorch-
ed and scared for the flower of second
love ever to find resting place there
but thought the path would be very
lonely, and might be long, and that it
were better thus than to walk the valley
all alone. Thoroughly understand your
nature, and know well that your tents were
not easily, struck, or readily pitched else
where--thatyour love was such as plant
ed terrible fixed foot
Think not that in this l had secret
satisfaction for glad would | have been
to have known that you hated me. could
it have given back to you the joyous love
which had bithed, and enable you to
have placed itas fresh gift upon anoth-
er alter.
And now years have gone over us,
and to you alone can | commit my dying
trust,
Mary, when am dead, will you re,
ceive from me the only legacy which |
have to impart--my children? My last
gift to you was a ring of bctrothal--the