Saint Paul weekly Minnesotian., 1858-12-04

pHcu, tha' HIc Woulu amply pToNlue iOr Ill
and her child. The value of the property il
herited by Mrs. Woodley under this vii
amounted according to a valuation made ie,
weeks after the testatOr's decease, to betwee
eight and nine thOus and pounds.
r Respected as widdOw, comfortable in cir
cumstances, and with daughter to engag
Sed the remainder of her existence in happi
ness But how frequently do women peri
and lose all by second marriage! Such wa
the case with Mrs. Woodley; to the astonish
ment of everybody, she threw herself away OIL
man almost unknown in the district-a per
, son of no fortune, of mean habits altOgethe
unworthy of accepting as a husband. Sila
+ Thorndyke, to whom she thus committed he
F happiness, had for short time acted as bail
iff on the farm and no sooner did he fee
himself master, than his subserviency wa
changed to selfish indifference, and that grad
ually assumed cOarser character. He dis
covered that the property, by the will of MIR
WoOdley, was so secured against every chanc'
or casualty to the use and enjoyment of hi
wife, that it did not pass by marriage to thu
new Bridegroom, but she was unable to aline
ate or divest herself any portion of it during
life. She could, however, dispose of it by
will but in the event of her dying intestate
the whole descended to her daughter, Mary
Woodley
Incredibly savage was Thorndyke when he
made that discovery ; and bitter and incessant
were the indignities to which he subjected his
unfortunate wife, for the avOwed purpose Of
forcing her to make will entirely in his favor
and Of course disinheriting her daughter
These prosecutions failed of their Objects
An unexpected, quiet, passive, but uncOn-
| querably resistance, was opposed by the, in
all other things cOwed and submissive woman,
to this demand of her domneering husband.
Her failing health for gently nurtured aAd
tenderly cherished as she had ever been, the
callous brutality Of her husband soon told up
on the unhappy creature-warned her that
Mary would soon be an orphan, and that up
on her firmness it depended whether the child
of him to whose memory she should be cast
homeless and penness upon the world, or in
herit the wealth in which, by every principle
of right an equity, she was entitled. Come
what may, this trust at least should not, she
mentally resolved, be betrayed or paltered
with. Every imaginable expedient to vanguish
her resolution was resorted. Thorndyke pick
ed a quarrel with Ward her father, who had
lived at Dale Farm, since the morrow of her
marriage with Woodley, and the old gentle
man was compelled to leave, and take up his
| abode with a distant and somewhat needy rel
ative. Next Edward Wilford. the only son of
a neighboring and prosperous farmer, who had
been betrothed to Mary Woodley several
months before her fathers death, was brutal
ly insulted, and forbidden the house. All,
however, failed to shake the mothers resolu-
ton and at length, finding all his efforts
fruitless, Thorndyke appeared to yield the
point and upon this subject at least ceased
to harrass his unfortunate victim.
Frequent private conferences were now
held between Thorndykc, his two daughters
and Elizabeth Wareing-a woman approach
ing middle age, whom, under the specous
pretence that Mrs. Thorndyke's increasing
ailments rendered the services of an expert
enced natron indispensable, he had lately in
stalled at the farm. 1t was quite evident to
both the mother and daughter that a much
greater degree of intimacy subsisted between
the master and housekeeper than their relative
positions warranted; and from some express
sions heedlessly dropped by the woman, they
suspected them to have been once on terms
Of confidential intimacy. Thorndyke, |
should have mentioned, was not native of
these parts; he had answered Mr. WOodleys
advertisement for bailiff, and his testimo-
malls appearing satisfactory, he had been
somewhat precipitately engaged a young
man, calling himself Edward Wareing, the
son of Elizabeth Waring, and said to be en-
gagged in an attorneys office in Liverpool, was
alsoa not unfrequent visitor at Dale Farm :;
and once he had the insolent presumption to
address a note to Mary Woodley, formally
rendering his hand and fortune. This, how
er, did not suit Mr.. Thorndyke's views, and
Mr.. Edward Wareing was very effectually re-
buked and silenced by his proposed father-in-
law.
Mrs Thorndyke's health rapidly declined,
The woman Wareing, touched possibly by
sympathy or remorse, exhibited considerable
tenderness and compassion towards the in
valid made her nourishing drinks, and ad-
ministered the medicine prescribed by the vii
lagc practitioner-whO, after much delay and
pooh, poohing, by Thorndyke had been called
in-with her own hands. About three weeks
previous to Mrs. Thorndyke's death, a sort of
reconciliation was patched up through her
instrumentality between the husband and
wife and an unwonted expression of kind
ness and compassion, real or simulated, sat
upon ThOrndyke's features every time he ap-
preached the dying woman.
The sands of life ebbed swiftly with Mrs.
Thorndyke. Infolded in the gentle but dead
ly embrace with which consumption seizes its
victims, she wasted rapidly away and, most
perplexing symptoms of all, violent retchings
and nausea, especially after taking her medi-
cnc-whch according to Mr. Davis the vii
lagc surgeon, was invariable of a sedative
character-aggravated and confirmed the fa-
tai disease which was hurrying her to the
tomb.
Not once during this last illness could Mary
WoOdley, by chance. or stratagem, obtain
moments private interview with her mother,
until a few minutes before her decease I'm
til then, under one pretence or another, either
Elizabeth Wareing, one of Thorndyk's daugh-
ters, or Thorndyke, himself, was always pre-
sent in the sick chamber. 1t was evening:
darl ness had for some time fallen no light
had yet been taken into the dying woman's
apartment; and the pale starlight which faint
ly llumined the room served as Mary Wood
ley softly approached on tiptoe to the bedside
of her, as she supposed, sleeping, parent but
to deepen by defining the shadows thrown
by the full, heavy hangngs, and the old mas
sive furniture. Gently, and with a beating
heart, Mary Woody drew back the bed-cur-
tain nearest the window. The feeble uncer-
tain light flickered upon the countenance, dis
tinct in its mortal paleness, of her parent; the
eyes. recognized her, and glance of infinite
tenderness cleaned for an instant in the rapid
ly darkening orbs the right arm essayed to
lift itself, as for one FAST last embrace. Vain
ly Love, love only, was stronger than death,
in the ex piring mothers heart, and the arm
fell feebly back on the bedclothes. Mary
Woodley bent down in eager grief, for she
felt instinctively that the bitter hour at last
was come: their lips met, and the last accents
of the mother murmured, beloved Mary,
i have been true to you-nO will-nO'--
A silent tremor shook her frame: the spirit
that looked in love from the windows of the
eyes departed on its heavenward journey ,and
the unconscious shell only of what had once
been her mother remained in the sohbing
daughters arms.
will not deny that this narrative, which l
feel have but coldly and feebly rendered
from its earnest, fearful tenderness, as related
by Mary Woodley, affected me considerably