The Potter journal. [volume] (Coudersport, Pa.) 1857-1872, 1858-08-26

there is no wonderful knight on the road
coming to rescue YOU
Amelia Hall walked once more sad and
slow, sad and slo,' through that porticoed
and balconied house of the future; she
paced once more down the avenue Of ma
pies, and bathed in tears the hand of the
prnce-llke one who would have led her
back to sit with him in the whitespilared
portlco. She locked the Gothic gate, and
brushed from the mystic sandals the dust
Of the cool, wide streets Of that lovely vii
lage. and laid them away in lonely room
OF her heart, whose doors she barred.
Then she prepared to marry George
Yale. She wore no sacrifcial air. Her
old uncle laughed like boy and blessed
her with fearful eyes. She was woman
ly and sympathetic with her lover. She
interested hersefin his sroughly-told plans.
He lost some Of his ruggadness of manner
under her touch, and little poetry talent
in his heart famed into life beneath her
gentle breath. With some pleasure she
mused: i can change him. May be nay
life will not be so dreadful
She was married to him, and smiled as
some Intimate friend reminded her of her
ideal home and husband
In beautifying and keeping her home
beautiful, in infuSing her delicate tastes
into her husbands nature, Mrs Yale found
real and womanIy pleasure. But she
ever grew pale and angcl-like She was
not strengthened; she did net develop in
to the luxuriant doublc-rose.
They had been married three years when
they were visited by distant kinsman OF
Mr.. Yale. Stanwix Mason was protes-
sor in Southern academy. He was a
man of genius, and also thorough man
Of the world. He was like Amelia Halls
ideal husband
Of course he at once read the peculiar
disposition ofthe husband and wife. Then
he noticed the lady S still blue eye kindled
at picture he drew Of Southern scene.
He watched the veins throb in the white,
swelling temples as he talked on in the
picturesque style which characterizes his
books. y temptation glided to his side
He saw how little her beautiful arts Of
housekeeping were appreciated by her
husband, (who, though he did love his
wife, was extremely matter-of fact and
he dared to talk to her in1his wise as they
sat in the parlor one day | think you
are an exquisite artist, Cousin Annie. Do
you know [ have been admiring the drap-
cry of your rooms and your vases ever
since | came? | seldom see their like,
save in pictures. [ can read dreams Of
yours in every bouquet you make for me.
Poets compose other things than poems.
| know something of your nature and your
history perhaps from that special little
library in yon white drap"d cabinet that
looks like chapel where a lovely, lonely
lady might go to weep and pray
i do not know why you talk to me so
strangely, said Mrs. Yale coIdly, her pride
starting up in arms before the locked doors
of her heart.
Pardon me, fair cousin he responded.
Become acquainted with me, and then,
if | am worthy, conide in me-
There were many evenings IN which the
three sat together on the stoop, Mr.. Yale
balancing his books, and the cousin read
ing aloud to the lady of the house from
the Greek of Homer, and from Shakespeare
and the Brownings. The young wife was
eXLilarated in the new atmosphere. She
grew gay and beautiful. Her husband
was happy of the change, and the guest
grew more genial.
One night when this cousin had read
and talked to her until she was bewilder-
ed by the beauty and light he poured up
on her soul, and when at parting for the
night, he raised her hands to his mouth
and kissed them, and murmured: Poor,
poor little Annie : that night the thrilling
truth burst upon her. She was beloved
by her cousin.
Too late, too late ? she cried sharply
as she fed along the passage to her room.
An hour later, Stanwix Mason, pacing
up and down the garden walks, as was his
wont, saw through the open easement
Anne Aneeilhg Dy her bedside III prayer.
lie saw her rise serene and kiss the swar-
thy brow OF her husband lie understood
the peace in her eyes and turned away
with thwarted face The next day he
smilingly bsde them adue for the South :;
and the husband and wife took up again
the even tenor Of their still gliding lives ];
the honest husband happy and contented
with his home and wife, living his best
possible life, and she with half her nature
in chains and darkness-her greatest hap
piness that she had made others happy.
And multtudes Of women like Amelia
Hall are called cowardIy and mercenary,
while they are really brave and unselfsn.
They are true to what they deem duty, ii !
IN % ho g. al