The home journal. (Winchester, Tenn.) 1858-188?, 1858-11-04

Wnlch you, ana your memory nave
planted the seeds of all that is of no.
| Bile and manly growth in my charac-
ter. Nourish them, Madeleine, Give
yourself, heart and soul into my keep
ing, that | may be cheered by your
smile and nerved to exertion by your
virtues. will never prove unworthy
"ofthe trust" Such. many, many times
was the purport ofmy thoughts of you,
and the happy meeting anticipated.
One thing only would | keep from
you.
The home | had prepared, the cot
tage | had built, and the furniture
which was to be sent on and placed in
order for your arrival, were to be a
pleasant surprise, and o. how many
times did | imagine your cxclamations
Of delight at the beauties of the place.
Again, and again had | looked, at va
rious times, to see if anything was
wanting, and though. ] doubted not
your superior, and more delicate taste,
might suggest some improvement, |
felt that could not. In week said
was to start The week had dwin-
died to a day. Every thing was in
readiness for my departure. My trunk
was packed. 1t was the last night |
was to remain in my unfurnshed
house, unturnished all but my bache-
IQr's room, fora the building was com
pIeted had made it my habitaton.-
A small fire was burning on the
hearth, for though it was early sum-
mer it was chilly, for there had been
rain through the day. | sat by the
cheerful blaze, and looking in my
minds eye at the pleasant future was
picturng, need not say it wore a ro-
sy hue. know not how long had
sat there, merged in those delightful
fancies, when | was reused by the
opening of the door Of my bachelors
sanctum, by Tom, the boy who usual
ly waited on me. lie handed me
letter. hade him lay it on the table
and sat as before, musing most pleas
antly and quietly on the near APP
preaching completion Of my wishes,
the iullillment of my dearest hopes
My rcverp was so delightful could
not beart to be interrupted. and re.
mained in the same pleasing state an
hour, perhaps more. AT last the strlk-
ing of the clock on the mantle an
nounccd that it was ten o'clock. 1t
was time to lay my head upon my ypil-
low. had been very busy, this, my
last day, at my lonely home, and was
somewhat weary, though the so near
attainment of my wishes seemed to
make all the fatigues of body and all
the vexation of spirit | had endured
for the last four years, of no 9ccount.
1t was finished, | had succeeded bet
ter than | expected in the business |
had undertaken, and at twenty four
was a comparatively wealthy man.
The land | had secured was much of
it in time likely to prove very valua-
bic, for a railroad was in progress,
which would pass directly through it,
and a little distance from the spot |
had selected for my own residence,
was to be located a depot and a town
was already springing up around it.
My worldly prospects were bright,
almost too bright. had not the
slightest doubt, that night, of my spec
dy possession of the prize which had
for years been the moving principle
Of ali my eXertions. | was happy,
perfectly so, for once, in anticipation.
never remember for one moment, in
my whole life, experiencing such a
feeling Of deep, quiet, entire repose
and satisfaction, as felt that night in
reviewing the past and anticipating
the future.
r'ot one cloud, not one shadow of
disappointment, dimmcd my delight
full prospective. But rejecting, after
awhile, that was tired and needed
rest, | concluded if should go 20 bed
could find that there, even if ! could
not sleep, and could think as well up
on my pillow as in my chair before
the fire.
| had forgotten the letter Tom
brought in, but as Irose from my seat
saw it lying where the boy had drop
ped it. My first impulse, even then,
was not to read it, for | supposed it
perhaps was some business commu-
nication and was in too happy a
mood to be disturbed by anything
which seemed, just then, to be of so
little importance, but it occurring to
me that had not heard from you in a
longer time than usual | took it in my
hand and looked at the post-mark.
In a moment | had torn it open. 1t