The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1855-05-16

possessed. fremont loved and admired
his beautiful bride; but there was a want
of congenialily, lack Of sympathy be-
tween her finely woven, sensitive ature.
and his coarser essence. In short, he
stirred no chord in her heart. Day by
day she lived on, al first striving outward
ly to love and honor him. but soon sunk
into a resistess apathy. like the sleep oi
the benumbed traveller in Alpine soliudes.
So years went on-such years as time
gives only 70 the sad and weary; so long,
so endless! But at last there came
shock. which for ever reused her from her
listless slumber.
1t was fair summer day, when Ire
mon; came to his home distressed and
weary, full Of care and anxiety. Linda
saw the cloud gather on his brow; yet she
needed it not, Tor ii is only love that burns.
that can share sorrow with the loved; and
that was not guest in Linda's soul. Ire.
mon, rose. cast one long. wild glance up
on his once lovely bride. and was gone.
IL was but moment. and loud sound
shook the dwelling TO its foundations.
Fhev went to see whence the report Is
sued; aud there lay the proud man wei.
terng in his blood! Linda did not weep
Tor him as for husband; he had filled no
place in that lonely heart. Yet with re-
morse she thought OF her broken vows and
her sundereG pligh,ings, and repentinsly
she wept the bitter past. Then in the rair
Of sorrow came the bow OF hope. and
lighted the horZon-not an earthly hope.
for all such were forever ended. but a bet
ter and more enduring. because a heav.
emily one. A short space Of time, and the
cause Of Tremont's death was made
known TO his young though desolate wife.
\ sudden revolution in property had made
the wealthy speculator bankrupt. He
could not live to endure the disgrace, aud
thus the secret was disclosed.
Linda wen, back TO the proud mansion
OF her aunt. from which. six years before.
she had gone out. still pale, and sad, and
lesolate. Mrs. Clinton made her happy
ia her own stern way. and strove 10 make
her happy; but ell her etfo,ts were una
vsilng Years had lett their mark on the
proud, stately woman. years of care. So
with a shadow on their souls, deep, a
black shadow. they both went on; aud all
was drear and desolate.
So years went on. Till at last the hour
came when the proud woman must die.
Mrs. Clinton died as she had lived,
cold. stern and untorgving, with no word
of the distant shore towards which her
bark was sailing; no message OF love and
mercy for the living, no sigh Of repentance
for the dead; and when the last solemn
rites were over, and she lay al rest in the
solemn tomb. Linda went back to the
chill dwelling, and alone trod those halls.
Yet it was but a short, very short time
that she dwell mistress Of that home; for
other evil tidings came, and she found that
the estate OF her aunt had also passed
from her hands TO those OF others. swal.
lowed up in the great vortex OF specula'
tion. So she left the fair fields and the
hill-tops she had so much loved. and the
low peaceful valley where she had frs,
met him. the uniorgolten, the yearningly
remembered.
Now Linda was free. no marriage vow.
no chains OF property bound her to one
| whom she could not love. Blu, he,' she
though, sadly. 'he has ere this loved an
other. and their lot is bles,. and bright. and
beautiful Had he not forgotten me. he
would have surely written; love will find
means to meet the loved. Oh, misery! can
he call another his beloved! Can he all
forget mel
She was alone now, no home, no wealth
naught TO support her. But hear her &C
ccmklishments came in place. and she
became daily music teacher, weary
,oiler tor the bread which KEEP, her from
tina, death for which she daily prayed
Bu, ere she left she gathered up around
the richly furnished house small relics o
the past, among which she took an old
box iull OF papers OF 'riling value. Rut a.
she turned over the apparently rubbish
she found one package that made hel
breath come short and quick. and he1
heart beat with feverish violence. There
they were-burning letters OF his love te
her which her eyes had never seen.
What tale was there Of hopes long
deferred OF wishes disappointed, Of love
seemingly unrequi,cd! There has beer
many. many dark hours in Linda Ire
mont's life; but never rad so dark sky
so dreary prospect been hers. "Oh
why did love unite so firmly which desliny
must seperate iorever?" asked Linda
Yet will go to the city; will 60 whenc,
his last letter came; will seek him through
the world. On lifes weary sea we nay
yet find rest; on times shore We may We
meet in gladness." So she went, lesvin,
all behind her, travelisg alone, she knew
no, whether. There was courage i,
that pale face, and a firm resolution ,ha
no earthly power could break. ard as sh
silently and uncaringly gszea upon tn
ljoys and pleasures OF those around her
they called her cold and hear,less. Oh
could they have known half Of the agon
OF that bruised hesrt-could they hav
seen The thin hands clasped in her lionel
retirement in such devotion as the loviU
and the sensitive only can know. the
would never nave deemed her proud an
unloving. Blu. man sees only outwar
seeming. not the inmost heart. and by thi
hejudges. sternly ,snd often unjustly. Oh
who shall tell of the beating of,he close
and anguished heart, worn out by unre
Quilted love. and wi,hercd hope. and dar
despair. which to mans eye is unseen
end to his soul forever unknown?
Thus it was with Linda. Thus it va