Raftsman's journal. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, 1855-08-22

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ne cast on ier q glance OF mingled sorrow ana
rebuke, and left the room. His wite--ais
bride-strieken in the first flush Of her ma
trouly joy and pride, sunk from her chair en-
his departure -nsensibIe!
1t rather late, from cause that has
been alluded to, before William Ainslie' re-
turned to bis home that night. His wife had
retired TO rest, but her sister-in-law, who had
been sent for by Jeanie, was in waiting for
him, and revealed the utter falsehood Of Mrs.
Smiths accusation, she having been an eye
witness Of the receipt of the flowers, as pre-
sent from another lady.
esTal1e care o. Jennie, William,' said the
sister-in-l'w; s.she is lila charge o that Kind
Is enough to kill herr This prediction IN
happily had truth in it. On the ensuing. NOR
ming the young wife was raving incoherentiy,
in state between slumber and waking. a
deep flush remained permanently upon her
countenance, most unlike the usual fairness of
her complexion. Her muttered exclamatons
shocked her husband to the soul.
.sOh, William, You believed it But it's no
true--it's true--it is false!'' was the Ian
guage she continually murmured forth.
Medical skill was speedily seen to be neces-
sary, and the surgeon who was called in in
formed William, that in consequence of fstrong
excitement, mcipieut symptoms of brain-fever
had made their appearance. The utmost quiet
was prescribed, and blood Withdrawn from the
temples in considerable quantity. Fora time,
these and other remedies seemed TO give
lief, and the poor husband never left tie side
of the sufferer. Indeed, ii seemed as if she
could not bear him to be absent; her mind al
ways reverting, when he was out of her sight,
60 the idea thst lie believed the charge which
had been made against her, and left her forey-
er. The oft-repeated assurances to the contra
ry, from his own lips, seemed at length to pro
duce conviction, tor she at last was silent on
the subject. But the charge-the blow-had
struck too deep. Jsanie Ain8lie-if We may
call her by name she was destined so short
time to bear-fell after two or three days i'll
ness into state of stupor which hcontinued with
short and rare Intervals, and Gu the eighth day
after her npptials, her pure spirit departed
william Ainslie had shown on many occa-
sions in life great frmness and self-command;
and now, though deep suffering was written on
his brow, lie made, with At least external com
posure, the requisite. preparations for laying
in The grave The remains Of her whom he Lad
loved so long and so truly. As to retribUtion
upon the head Of the person who had boen in
strumental through inconsjderate hastinesS
only, it is to be hoped, in producing his mise /
rv. the bereaved husband thought not Of call
ing for it. Yet it did come, to a certain extent;
for our errors seldom pass. even in this life, !
without pang Of punishment and remorse.
Several days after charging the innocent
Jeanie with the abduction of her flowers, Mrs. !
Smith Of Drylaw found, by discovery Of her
new servant, that one of her younger children, |
impatient for the Towering of a rose-bush in /
the little garden near the farmhouse, had
lighted upon the artificial boquet in her moth /
er's dressing-room, and had carried it out and
stuck it on the bush. There the flowers were
accordingly found and Mrs. Smith, who was
far from being an evil-intentoned woman, did
feel regret at having charged the loss upon the
guililoss. Ignorant Of all that had passed at
Elsington in the iterval, she determined to
call at William AinslIe's on her first visit to
the village, and explain her mistake.
That call was made two days after Jeanie's
death: and on Mrs. Smith entering the room,
she found William sitting by his bereaved
hearth with his sister-in-ia'@ and another kind
neighbor, bearing him company.
'sOh by -by--those dowers!' said the
unwelcome visitor in a tone and in manner
which she meant to be condescending and in-
sinuating. show sorry / am for what happened
about those flowersl Where do you think /
4. = h
garden, where Jemima had put them. And
now5I am come to say am sorry for it, and
hope that it will be all over.''
William Ainslie had risen slowly during this
extraordinary speech; and now, raising his fin
ger toward his lips, he approached and took
Mrs. Smith by the hand, beckoning at the
same time to The two women who were seated
with him. They seemed intuitively to com
prehend his wishes, and rising, moved toward
the bed, around which the curtains were close
ly drawn, William leading forward also the
unresisting and bewidered visitor. The wo-
men drew the curtains aside, and William,
fixing his eyes on Mrs. Smith, pointed silent
Iy TO the body of his wife. shronded in the Ger
ements of death, and lying with the pale, un
Covered lace up.ufheu 10 thdl heeFeh 'oi
which her pure life had been fitting prepara-
ton The wretched and false aceuser gazed
with changing color on the corpse of the dead
innocent, and, turning her looks for a moment
on the silent faces around, that regarded her
moro in sorrow than in anger, she uttered
groan of anguish as the truth broke on her;
then bursting from the hand which held her,
she hastily departed from the house
Trbaro = litt1a now fo adj to this melancholy