Orleans independent standard. [volume] (Irasburgh, Vt.) 1856-1871, 1859-05-27
THE WIFE.
BY JOHN G. wAITTIER.


the ceremony proceeded faint tinge of
crimson crossed her beautiful cheek, like
the reflection of sunset upon the clear
waters of a quiet lake. Her lover, as
he clasped her hand within his own, gaz-
ed on her few moments with unmin-
gled admiration, and the warm and elo-
quent blood shadowed at intervals his
manly forehead, and melted into beauty
on his hp."
And they gave themselves to one an
other in the presence of heaven, and ev-
cry heart blessed them,as they went their
way rejoicing in their love.
Years passed on,and again / saw these
lovers. They were seated together where
the light of sunset stole through the half
closed and crimson curtain, lending a
richer tint to the delicate carpeting and
the exquisite establishment of the rich
and gorgeous apartment. Time had
slightly changed them in outward appear
ance. The girlish buoyancy of the one
had indeed given place to the grace of
perfect womanhood, and her lip was
somewhat paler, and a faint line of care
was slightly pereeptible upon her brow.
Her husbands brow, too, was marked
somewhat more deeply than his age
might warrant anxiety, ambition, and
pride, had grown over it, and left their
traces upon it; silver hue was mingled
with the dark of his hair, which had be-
come thin around his temples, almost to
badness. He was reclining on his splen-
did ottoman, with his face half hidden by
his hand, as if he feared that the deep
and troubled thoughts which oppressed
him were visible upon his features.
Edward, you are i'll tonight" said
his wife, in low, sweet, half-inquiring
voice, as she laid her hands upon his
own.
Indifference from those we love is ter
, rible to the sensitive bosom. 1t is as il
! the sun of heaven refused its wonted
cheerfulness, and glared upon US with g
cold, dim, and forbidding glance. 1t i:
dreadful to feel that the only being of oul
love refuses to ask our sympathy, that he
broods over the feelings that the gloomy
brow, the indeinable shadows of hidder
emotions, the involuntary sigh of sorrow
in which we are forbidden to participate
: and whose character we cannot know.
D She essayed once more. Edward,
s she said, slowly, mildly, and affectiOnate
= ly, " The time has been when you wer
willing to confde your secret joys an
= sorrows to one who had never, l trust, be
It trayed your confidence. Why, then, m
A dear Edward, is this cruel reserve? Yo
d are troubled, and yet refuse to tell me til
't cause"
d Something of returning tenderne'
=, softeped the cold severity ofthe husband
d features, but it passed away, and bitt,
d smile was his only reply.
d The time passed on, and the twa
I'd were separated from each other. tt
E. husband sat gloomy and alone in Il
is cell ola dungeon. He had followed al
IL bition as his god, and had failed in biz
th career. He had mingled with men who
ct his heart loathed, he had sought out Il
re fierce and wronged spirits of the Ian
n and had breathed into them the madne
t.? of revenge. He had drawn his swo
IS. against his country; he had famed l
ly, bellion to flame, and it had been quenC
ou ed in human blood. He had fallen, m
is erably fallen, and was doomed to the des
m of a traitor.
2" The door of the dungeon opened, a
light form entered and threw hers
to into his arms. The softened light Of 81
i've set fell upon the pale brow and was
in cheek of his once beautiful wife.
pa Edward, my-dear Edward, . she So
Der " 1 have come to save you /; I have rea
sed ed you after thousand difficulties, {
not I thank God my purpose is nearly e
ces cuted."
ter Misfortune had softened the pr,
for heart of manhood, and as the hush;
in pressed his pale wife to his bosom,
out trembled on his eyelasb. g / have
nto deserved this kindness" he murmurer
two choked tones Of agony.
per Edward" said his wife,in an earn
on but faint and low voice, which indies
hen extreme and fearful debility, we b
by not a moment to lose. By an excha
t. of garments you viii be enabled TO
unnotieed. Haste,or we may be too
Fear nothing fo- me, am woman
reat they viii not injure me for my effort
mon behalf of husband dearer than life
nun But, Margaret" said her hush
four " you look sadly iii. You cannot bre