Mineral Point tribune. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1854-1858, 1858-07-06
THE VOICE OF THE OLD BIBLE,

/ Ills wire anu CHiu III dCtual need OF lie S
comforts, Oh, Lucius, Lucius, | am re-
yenged now!' and smile, even IN its
triumph, curled over the beautiful mouth
of the speaker.
She was young, so young that you wo'd
have hesita,ed whether TO write her Girl
or woman, and her only beauty was In
her mouth and eyes. The one was large,
but soft, sweet, flexible, the responsive
instrument on which her soul always
struck It's inhnitudes of emotion and feel
ing. The eyes We're large and deep,
translation of her soul rather than her
heart, as perhaps eyes ofteHest are
Up and down her. chamber, with that
sad bitter smile on her .ips, that lady walk
ed many times. The velvet carpet. its
dark ground work piled with Sorrento ro-
ses, cushioned her feet Soft landscapes
OF the Rhine, intermingied with wild pic
lures of Alpine scenery, leaned down TO
her from their oval frames; but, needless
of the beauty about her, It's mistress walk
ed amid it, her soul wrapped in a Joy
which the angels must have written sin.
And yet you should pity her, for great
had been her wrong. She had the ele-
ments of very noble nature, too, but her
mother had died before Alice met her
tenth summer, and there was none that
understood her deep, emotional nature
her impulsive, poelical temperament.
Her father was plain, practical farm
er, whose being was absorbed in the few
acres which lay around his yellow-br
homestead, and he regarded Alice as
remarkably sensible child, because she al
ways preferred 30, Ks TO dolls and bonnets.
She attended the village school until she
was eighteen, for her father was indul-
/ gent to a fault; and although, he fumed
and freued over the semi-annual school
/ bills, he never had the heart to withdraw
/ Alice from the studies she loved. There
she met Lucius Brante. How the thot's
/ of the proud woman reach on to that hour,
and drag up to the present.
/ He was poor, an artist, and a school
teacher, with an earnest aesthetic nature,
ard much Of that social magnetism that
attracts the symEa.hies of others.
Alice was bis pupil. | do not know
how ii happened but 10th teacher and
/ scholar learned a lesson that was not IN
! text book that summer.
/ " Alice, said the young man, lrushing
away the Gu Is that leaned over the girls
bowed forehead as they stood by the old
farm gate on the last night of his stay IN
Meadow Brook, 9 give you my heart.
Take aud keep IT, | must so cut IN the
world and win me name aud place
there; then | will come tack TO you"
Il will take and keep htiil | give both
! aek to God answered the girl solemn
/ ", and so they parted.
ha baH n
I dark trumphs Of her face comes a softer
/ lightwith the thought Then, with tempt
/ ations thickened about her when her faith
er died, aud she came to her fashionable
aunts, und entered upon that new life OF
wealth and luxury.
Piquant aud impulsive, graceful, and
some times heau:iful, 1t was not strange
/ she created an unusual sensation. But
/ the dreaming, faif-haired youth, whose
wrapt eve leaned over bis easel III that
obscure street of The metropolis, owned
| the heart that no princely fortune could
have bought. Alice's relative was an In
trieuing, worldly woman. She lad no
children of her own, and whatever of at
fecuon could exist In such a nature was
| bestowed ON the orphan.
/ Mr.. Reade was a widower and mil
ljoDaire: aud if his life was leaning
down to the shadows of sixty, he thought
there was no reason why he should not
have a young and beautiful wife to preside
over his home.
" Shell throw herself away on that
handsome young painter, and slarve tc
death III a garret," unused Mrs. Henley
between her luch and lap-dog, after a
interview with Mr. Reade. IN forbid
HIM the house. hut Alice IS such a high
spirited girl. \ little diplomacy will sue
ceed test with her. 1t would only be
doing the girl & lifelong favor, too
Wen see !" Significantly perforated the
porliy lady, as she divided a slice Of cake
with her canine fav1rite.
Ahcer
Aunt aud the girls bright face
leaned over the talustrade.
: Here's letter for you | found among
my cards after dinner. | forgot to hant
it 10 you-excuse me. What, not dressed
for the party 2"
As Alice came eagerly down the stairs
her face Frightened al the well-knoWl
chirography.
No, but / shall be in half an hour.
=
No one saw her again that night The
letter struck out all the light, JOY and faitf
of her life.
Two months later there was wedding
and a very gorgeous one, at the resldenc'
of Mrs. Henley. Alice was the wife o
the millionaire.
Well, he was a good. indulgent sort 0
a husband, and loved his young wife bel
ter than even he did his house and III
horse, which is saying great deal, 10
: these were his passions.
And Alice | have given you the key
note 10 her life. You can feel the sad
ness Of the heart hymns amid all tn
earth glare and luxury through which
they rise.
Yes, It is my triumph hour now. Lu
cius Brante," murmurs the lady, as sh
II chain rr,,,,i bar whit