Worcester daily spy. [volume] (Worcester [Mass.]) 1850-1888, 1859-12-28

CContnued.]
LITTLE Croft, June, 1841-Yes, l went to
Ryal Side did not tell my husband about
my going with the Cottiswoodes, until the
night before | expected them back, more be-
cause we had, as by common consent, given
up the habit of speaking together, unless be-
fore the servants, than that 1 anticipated any
objections from him. 1t was late when he
came in, that night, and at supper, he eat but
little, and looked to my mind, more anxious
and miserable than ever; but after the cloth
was drawn and the servants gone, instead of
going to his room, as he had done latterly, he
remained sitting at the table with his head
bowed upon his hand, much like one bowed
down by some weary Burthen of bodily Pain
or Care. But l thought not thus then. l
thought of nought but myself, and felt only
the heat of anger flush my cheek, when saw
his glance resting with look of strange trou-
BILE on me, for fanced he meant to reproach
me for somewhat, and l said coldly enough,
that counted on journeying to Ryalside with
the Westcotts on the morrow il supposed it
would make no difference to him, as he would
as soon journey alone.
He did not stir or look up for some minutes,
then he rose and came round the table to me-
and his face was like troubled sea, full of
perplexed doubts as he said sadly ,-"Do what
will, it is my fate to give you pain, Marga-
ret but will it try you much ,-very much to
put off this visit to Ryalside, Toto wait
few weeks2"
He spoke as if troubled for words, a strange
1, l,,,A T II "a A..
nor his anxious look. l saw nothing in him
but a selfish aim to thwart me, in my dearest
wish, s~d ~;d, 18th Rec slsn--- ef i->as
nation and contempt
"You may spare yourself, then, sir, for l
shall not venture the trial The Westcotts
are old friends. There can be no reasonable
objection to my going with them, and l shall
go"
His lip quivered and he brushed his hand
across his eyes, as if some fearful sight did
blind him. Then, leaning toward me, he
Plead
"Hear me, Margaret. / seem harsh and
hard and cruel, l know, and hardest of all it
is, that must seem so, when God knows the
burthen our own mistakes have laid upon us
is more than we can bear Mind, / do not
blame you. But, pray you, grant me this
one thing delay your journey to Ryalside,
until Twelfth Night, at least"
1t might have been some trembling girl that
spoke, so eager, anxious, and beseeching was
his face and voice, SO full Of pleading and ear
nestness. For moment was caught by the
spell, as of old, and led to say "Until st.
Thomas day, since you will it, but not ali hour
later. That is your own set timeW
He turned and walked to the window and
stood, for space, looking out into the dark
night and when he came back the confused
trembling look was all gone, though his face
was still sad and grave as death. He put out
his hand as if he would take mine, but | would
mot see it, for my wonder being gone, the ut
ter cruelty of what he asked did break upon
me, and shrank from his touch.
He saw it, and his whole frame seemed to
shrink as if drawn together by some sharp
stroke OF Pain las he said ~ know how dear this
Journey is to you, Margaret l know how
long you have looked forward to it, yearning
to see the faces OF your friends. ] know how
your heart clings to the home of your happy
naidenhood. God help me! Have l not
reason to know it! to know all | ask you to
give up when l put this request! But l, too,
must suffer. l. 200, have lost something.
speak it not in reproach. Little right or little
heart have / for that. But, in the name of all
we have lost, for the sake of that brief dream
we once dreamed together there, and which
must remain dream forever now, beseech
YOU to delay this journey Grant but this,
and will not, indeed, l will try not to trouble
you again j.
"And your reason, sir 81 1 asked haughtily.
"Women are sometimes minded to ask for
such trihes as well as men"
He did not speak for moment, and / could
see his look grow irresolute, as if he battled
with himself, and when he bowed his head
upon his two hands, mine own heart gave
great throb of joy, for thought him about to
Weld but presently it seemed only one of
his endless arts to deceive, for when he looked
up his only words were 81 can not, dare
not give them, now, only wait, and will tell
you all.
Scorping myself almost as much as him. for
my foolish hope, l said with fierce anger =
at is but a piece of all the rest. Must not !
shall not! | am neither a child nor fool to
be ordered about thus and will bear it no
longer! You will give me some sufficient
reason, or l 20 to Ryalside with the West
COTS"
81 said can not, dare not, Margaret do not
compel me to use my right and say shat not !!
That voice SO sad and gentle should come
from such a hard heart Taken with the
words it angered me beyond endurance, and
gave way to burst of passionate scorn and
fury, that frghens me to think of now =
mo need to mind me of your right, Sir !
YOU act the Master too well TO permit me TO
forget it, even in the hours of sleep / am
your Wife. know all about your power you
need not fear to go beyond it. You are the
Master and the Slave, Not Ryalside, nor a
million of years passed there, can ever blot out
that black Memory. God help mep
He looked at me moment, and the pity of
that look ran over in his tones, as he said,
"God help us both, Margaret. If the bond has
come to that we are equally Slaves, and the
only thing for us, is to consider the easiest
way to bear the heavy yoke"
"Bear what you please, consider what you
please p l cried in contempt, "but among
your considerings don't forget this--a fraudu-
lent compact is void knew not what did,
! was blind, mad, when married youp
Mad as was / shuddcred ut the effect OF
my words. His whole frame bowed and bent
as il some mighty convusion rent him, and
his face grew livid and deathly white by turns.
When he spoke again started, his voice was
so strange, so new to me, SO dead and calm
and cold.