Ashtabula weekly telegraph. [volume] (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1853-1873, 1859-11-19

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with you little if you are able TO hear
it."
Something in his voice startled her she
looked up, and for the first time saw how
baggord and changed he had grown
"What is it 7" she cried, started up
"How fearfuly pale you look. The child
ren ?"
"Are perfectly well, he replied.
"Has anything happened to you, Rob
ert 2" she asked.
"Maria," he said, hardly needing her
words, II am rnined-bankrupt."
He buried his face in his hands, and his
whole frame shook with emotion. In an
instant bis wife's arms were around his
neck, her kisses on his brow and her voice
whispered words of comfort
But you, dear Maria" he said feeble
as you are, what is to become of you
could bear it all myself, but to think of you
and the children it almost unmans me-"
as all lost 2" she asked.
II fear so. My honor, thank God, will
remained unstained, but nothing will be
left after the paying Of my debts"
And how did it happen"
Her husband briefly told her his misfor-
tunes, which were mainly owing to the
losses at sea, for he was largely engaged in
navigation he rehearsed his struggles,
told of his sleepless nights and anxious
days, and Maria listened with moistened
eyes and parted lips.
"My own dear husband" she said at last,
kissing him fondy, "what are your plans
for the future ?"
II have made none as yet. / have been
overwhelmed in the present trouble. The
future looks dark indeed When think Of
you, in i'll health, requiring every comfort,
and feel that l shall be unable to supply
your wants"
He stopped, for his voice was choking
with emotion
"Do not speak so sadly, Robert. The
future to me does not look dark. You
made your own fortune you can do it
again and as for me, if have lived in
luxury for many years, / do not forget that
| was once poor country lassie and lived
very happy without the many appliances
of wealth that you have bestowed on me-
Dear Robert let us submit with good
grace to our present troubles"
Mr.. Durand shook his head sadly.
"You speak lightly Maria, of giving up
luxures, forgetting that they have grown
to be necessaries to you. If you were
strong aud well, it would be different even
then it would be hard TO exchange this
house for one suited to our income, or rath.
er lack of income, & Instead of having ser.
wants to do our bidding, to wait not only
on ourselves but on Others"
1t is very pleasant to be waited on,
admit" said Mrs. Durand, "but can do
without it, and l have not forgotten how
to sweep and make beds and bake. Try
me and you shall see that am as good a
cook as your French artiSte. We will be
happy yet Robert. Riches are comfort
able, but poverty shall not make us miser-
able"
Cheered in spite of himself by his wifes
spirit, Mr. Durand began to talk of the fu-
ture, and the evening which begun so gloom
lily, ended quite pleasantly.
Robert Durand felt already like q new
man, his wife's sympathy lightened the load
hthat had well nigh chrushed him, and be set
about the settlement of his business with
fresh courage.
From the wreck of his fallen fortune he
came out with large stock of self respect
for no man could charge him with dis
honorable conduct-and very small stock
of capital to commence the world anew.
Mrs. Durand, meanwhile was not idle
1t was her part to see to the settlement of
the domestic affairs, and though head and
limbs ached, yet she never complained
But, to her surprise, her sleepless nights van
ished-what opiates had failed to do, the
magic of fatigue accomplished; and when at
last the family were settled in small but
comfortable house, though she was very tir-
ed, she yet felt that she was really better
than she had been for long tine.
AS months passed, her appetite, which
had been capricious and variable, became
natural end healthy; dyspepsia slowly yield.
ed its holds upon her, her thin features be-
came rounded, her figure gained plumpness;
and at last faint color tiged her cheek
In one short year, the invalid Mrs. Durand,
was transformed into fresh looking matron
With her health, her spirit returned, aud
the children astonished her one day by tell
ing her that "they loved her a great deal
better than they used to, because she didn't
tell them to keep still all the time, and she
baked them nice cakes, and she told them
stories, and she looked great deal pref
tier"
This latter compliment, Mr.. Durand, who
had been a listener to the conversation,
emphatically pronounced to be true enough.
Mrs. Durand looked up with smile.
eve are not so very miserable, after all, .
she said slyly.
Her husbands cnly reply was closer EN-
brace.
Years has passed, and Mr.. Durand was
again rich man; once more his wife was
mistress of a fine stablshment-once more
he attended and gave parties. But now
she sat among the older people, and looked
on to see hergirls and boys enjoy themselves
with all the zest of youth.
She was still healthy comely, matron
whose sparkling eyes and blooming cheeks
and luxuriant hair many a younger woman
enved.
She was sitting one evening at party
with knot os friends, when pale young
creature joined them.
nI