Nashville patriot. [volume] (Nashville, Tenn.) 1858-1860, 1858-08-25
The Wife of Two> Husbands.
A SCENE FROM REALLIFE.

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that is now in ruins, close by the old church,
TO live IN. and never dreamed to have done
better. That would have been enough and
to spare, indeed-without my good wife here
and the four little ones, of course, who were
not then in the question-for the place is not
dear one az to living. The Brent, which runs
by our door, supplied me well with trout
and was my own fishmonger. knife and
fork, too, were always laid for me at the
squire's board. and on Sundays without ex-
ception. was there to use them.
The Sunday after poor Mr. Melville, the old
incumbent, died. | was, as usual. at the
Grange, ard as was natural, our talk fell on
his loss and on the future vicar.
Il have appointed one in my own mind,
said Mr.. Markham, ''and if he chooses to
accept the living as there is no reason what
ever Of the delay, he will read himself IN
within month or so-a young man not over
rich who knows the people here. and is well
liked by them.
i fear, then. sir. he will not want a curate,
since the parish is so small"
mo, fear not. Grantlcy. We shall be
sorry to lose you. although we have seen SO
little of each other; but | will have you in
my eye, be sure, as will my wife. in whose
way cnracies come somehow more than they
do in mine"
And so we parted for that time, with
hearty handshake.
All what wife that Mrs Markham was!-
a fair blithe woman then, and wearing her
thirty summers like flower She, with her
pleasant smile, was the fit messenger to tell
me ere the month was up that / myself was
the new vicar of Woodislee. She took as
great delight to bring the news as | to hear It,
''The vicarage is yours" said she, land
may this please you, Mr.. Grantley. as it
pleases us. 1t was not with my will this was
kept secret from you for so long. but you
know my husband loves his kindly joke"
1t was not likely, after this. that should
become less their friend; and indeed, the
Markhams and myself were forever together.
Both as clergyman and familiar intimate, my
intercourse grew very close with them indeed.
| learned, with pains enough. even TO join
their little concerts in the hall. | read with
them old plays in winter evenings; and the
vcarage was almost less my home than was
the Grange. | am not sure that they did
not choose my wife, for me; if so, | have the
greatest gilt of all to thank them for; and
they stood both of them as sponsors TO my
eldest boy. About two years after ! had
b ,en installed as vicar, began to observe a
great strangeness in Mrs. Markham. She
grew absent; started when addressed-es-
pecially if by her busband-wasled visibly
and lost in part her pleasant looks. The
squire did not see this: she had always a
smile to greet him with, however she might
look TO others: and would watch him some
times. when he was not regarding her, with
a concentration Of affection In her gaze more
intense than ever. Another change was this:
the sauire's fortune being very large, his wife
had most liberal allowance, and kept qui c
a little establishment of her own. Her char
tiles besides those that were i'll common with
his. were extensive. When any persons
needed help beyond that which was justified
=, I IoI hppD accustomed To anDlV
f. her as readily as to him; but now her aims
ut first dimiDished and then altogether ceased.
She parted, under some frivolous pretence,
with her carriage and ponies: and from being
rather fastidious and choice in her attire she
came to dress with great simplicity, and al
most i'll, so that upon that point her husband
rallied her. One night she was singing with
us i'm the hall a. usual. a tavorite Scotch song
of his, that she had sung a hundred times
before when her voice suddenly trembled. as
though her heari was breaking, and she burst
into fit of tears 1t was one of those eX-
dnisite melodies Of Burns upon the domestic
affections; and Markham spoke tOuchingly 70
me afterwards of that excessive fondness OF
his wife's for him which had so completely
overmastered her. aft | were to be taken
from her. said he, Il do believe dearest Jane
would die"
Certainly. to watch her anticipating his
slightest WISH, anu listening W SNCi "Olt
as though il were to be his last il might well
seem so. Upon my venturing to remark to
him that she was generally in by no means
good health and not in her usual spirits, he
thanked me- and was nervously alive to this
at once; and thinking little company might
cheer her. he sent for his maiden sister from
the North to spend some time with them
quiet, elderly lady, very excellent. but not in
anv way gifted as her brother and sister-in-
law We're, .M,9 the sdulre WAS wont to make
facetiOus allusion to it which would have been
embarrassing from any body else. She soon
filled up, in some measure, that position of
Lady Bountiful in the parish which Mrs.
Markham had Observation-Disclosures | confess
she somewhat lacked the graCefulness of her
well doing-and evidently to that lady's
satisfaction. 1t left her more to herself and
at liberty to retire to her chamber, or else
where, rs had now become her favOrite custom.
This, combined with the other peculiarities in
her conduct. although still yelled from her
husbands notice, did not escape the quick,
womanly eye of Miss EArkham.
Il cannot think, said she. as we were talk
ing walk together about three weeks after
her arrival, what change has come over Jane.
If we did not know herself and George to
have been the most loving couple that ever
breathed. should be inclined to think her an
unhappy wife; aud if l were not thoroughly
convinced of the badness of her late husband,
that she was regretting his loss
| had never heard until that moment of Mrs.
Markham having ever been widow, and ex-
pressed my surprise strongly.
''Indeed?n said my companion. 81 had
made certain that they had entrusted you
with that revelations; but since you are aware
of so much, you may now just as well know
ALL"
Mrs. Markham, whom, you perceive, even
at this time, charming and almost perfect
being. appears extraordinarily st nsitive and
uasuspicous of evil, was, Miss Jane Rahy,
romantic to the last degree. She eloped at
school, Mt the age OF seventeen with an adven-
turer named Heathcote. | never saw him
myself, but | have been told that he was in
youth extremely handsome, and gifted with
some attractive but superficial talents. After
living together short time in great unhappi-
ness, so far as Jane was concerned. he desert
ed her. and sent her back to her friends. He
did not appear again for years. He must
have treated the poor girl very brutality, to
account for the horror and absolute loathing
which she entertained for him. He knew
that she did so, and used that knowledge for
his own profit. He had openly boosted that
he had not married a milksop like her for
nothing, but for her money" and the moment
which secured to her her property, the very
day on which she came TO age. brought this
harpy 10 her side again. She bought him OIL
with ransoms, then and at many other times,
~ the civilized nations in old times bought
off the savage and with the like rcsult--he
became more frequent and extravagant in his
demands. When l say that he was a
systematic gambler and a drunkard, believe
that have mentioned only his lighter foibles.
The relics OF her original fortune only
remained To her, when he required OF her
blank check to be filed up at his own pleas
ure. This, backed by her paternal uncle,
aud sole relative in whose house she was then
residing, she steadily refused to give him;
and Heathcote, uttering thu most frightml
threats. was Obliged to content himself with
draft drawn by Mr. Raby upon his own banker
for hundred pounds. He drew it merely to
save his niece, who was Ia an agony OF terror
IRON her husbands violence. and TO get the
man out Of the housesas quickly as possible;
but. us the matter turned out this was the
iuck iest thing in thelworld Heathcote alter