Kenosha tribune & telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1856-1859, 1857-12-24

.'3"'"' ~ oihSy NAHuohs ioohiu5 Ou
into the Bishops garden, where the ear
ly twilight of December was fast repla
cling its frosty sunshine. At the sound
of his wife's step, he turned; and as she
came beside him he put his arm around
her fondly.
. / suppose your little heart is satisf,
ed now the gossips have fiattered Lau-
ry," he said. GU could do very well
without me-"
She looked up wistfuAy in his face
not understanding him, yet not liking to
question, for his manner of late had
been strange in the extreme. lie was
tender by fits and starts and he had
asked her more thaa once before if.she
should grieye were he gone.
Adie, you see that high wall at the
further side of the garden" he abrupt.
ly remarked, after q minutes silence
"whati is on the other side of it-sfFeets
or fields ?"
g A steep bank first, and beyond the
houses it is the river Ness and the open
country. | know those fields; we have
walked there"
"Often-we passed StMark' Church.
How cold it is here, Laurence baby
shlyers; let us go to the fireside." She
drew him out of the little den into the
broad light of the outer room, and made
him sit down on the long settle beside
her.
Now, Laurence, admire our handi-
work" she began, with an effort of
sprightliness. 81 don't believe you wo'd
ever see anything if did not order
you. There is my picture over the fire,
all framed with holly and scarlet berries
Look, too, how Martha has polished the
panels of the press, and even the vain
scot. We wear festive air"
eyes" he glanced round slightly, see
ing in those bright panels so many re-
petitions of his phantom pictures-"yes,
Adle, you would make sunshine every
where but in diseased mind. wonder
often why certain circumstances are per-
for instance, you, sweet
hearted, as fresh, innocent, and guileless
as our child in your arms, should have
been suffered to link your fate with mine
why you should have loved me-"
Il can answer your last speculation
why | should have loved you-becausc
could not help it, answeredAdie with
a pouting smile. at was sorely against
my will, as you very well know"
$ have tried to make you happy
you have been happy, Adie."
"To my hearts desire, Laurence.
only want to see you wear your old care
less way, and hear you talk to me as
you used to do, and my measure of JOY
would be full; but perhaps it would be
too much at once"
every night, Adie, I see you on your
knees-do you ever pray for me ~
" try always; but it seems as If
shall | say it, Laurence ?"
-" \ es, my darling, speak on
"Nell, it seems as if were put aw.ey
"a, Of Gods hearing when l pray for
you. 1t is not that my words are cold,
Dr my heart is not in them, but as if mer-
ey had covered its face. | have wept
Laurence, | was so sad for
you"
Don't waste your tears, Adie; there
ought to be cleansing power in them !;
but if your prayers are to deaf ear,
they will be useless. | wish for your
sake and the lads, | were a better man. :"
Laurence, you know what is promis-
ed to those who sincerely repent"
But / do not repent / only cnrse
my evil fate. Do you remember liken-
ing me to figure in a certain picture?"
80, yes how wrong it was of me !
| was quite ashamed that you should
know. | hoped you had forgotten it. ="
mo, sweetheart, have never forgot
ten one word of yours; and the simili
tudc there was striking"
at was foolish thought of mine; |
have never seen the resemblance since :
so it must have been a mere passing ex-
preston.
" Your loving fancy has idolized me
out Of all nature, Adie; you do not see
my faults, or else you are fond Of them
for their owners sake"
DO not be so sure, Laurence you
want mending in many ways, and think
Of setting seriously to work to mend
YOU
THAT task will need q more cunning
hand than this, sweetheart, said he,
taking her slender fingers in his; Il think
if the Jared, tlawed. leaking vessel
were all broken up, it would be best; it
is not safe to stow your happiness away
in it."
Laurence, you make me very sad
when You talk in that fashion; / do not
You. You know that if l
were without you, and baby might as
well be lying in St. Marks churchyard
by poor old Grizzie; We should not care
to live by ourselves"
Il do believe yoy lofe me with all my
sins on my head"
Doubt any thing but my,love, Lau-
renee; for ] can forgive every thing but
such doubt"
They staid there by the tireside for a
long time, talking of things to them inn
portant, but to others trivial, until Mar
tina came in to put more logs OF the fire,
to close the shutters, and light the lamp.
Her master was gayer than usual; Aides
voice had charmed him to better mood;
and the woman, in her furtiye watchful
way, took note Of 1t. They became 81
lent when she entered; and as her lift
ed step seemed alwa1 to deepen instead
of breaking the hush, the noise of a ri
sing wind outside resounded mournfully
the Court. 1t drove sharp,rat-
Ting gusts of hail and sleet noisily
against the windows; then lulled and
rose again to fury. Martha said it was
going to blow hurricane. as she fasten-
ed the windows. Let it blow: we are
under warm shelter" responded Lau-
renee carelessly.
'Ay, master; and them that have TO
bide it ont of doors nav hide it easily