Delaware inquirer. (Wilmington, Del.) 1859-18??, 1859-05-14
S}giseellaltepms.
THE BOUGHT BRIDEGROOM.
A STORY OF GOLD.

Mrs. Murphy was searching through one oi
her drawers--the old fashioned mahogany
drawers she had brought to her husbands
house when she was married. She was think
ing at that very moment OF her marriage, and
those thoughts were woful, for sorrow was
Swallowed in her face. She was searching for
pieces of linen to dress the liberated leg OF
her invalid husband. At that instant she
heard his complaining voice from the freside
of the sitting room
"Come, Betty-what keeps your Isay-
come"
Betty-yes, Betty-poor Betty-,if she
had only died long ago" muttered Mrs. Muir
ply, and her eyes glared, and her face became
white for moment with anger, and proud,
and even lofty expression such as Elizabeth
of England in her hautiest mood, when domi-
neering most over her mobiles and her kingdom,
might have assumed, passed over Mrs, Muir
phys countenance, though she was bht the
wife of man in humble rank, and her life
had always been mingled with the concerns
and the people of that rank. She made no
answer TO her husband-she had not found
the object of her search-she turned over
great variety of things-she examined the
corners and sides ofthe drawers-she went to
the bottom of them-she disarranged the fold
ed precision of many garments-she dragged
TO light old handkerchiefs and old aprons,
disturbed the repose of old baby -linen-the
baby-linen of her first and only child, Robert !;
her face softened little, but only little !;
for combating with the natural mothers love,
there had long been powerful antagonist pas
sions into its corner, and continued her search,
Int she could find none of the article in ques-
tion. There has been great demand for it
of late that liberated limb Of her husbands
had consumed her whole store of old linen.
Still she searched in another corner; in q
particular place in the lower drawer of all,
which had been little disturbed for length
of time. she found parcel loosely tied to-
gether. and drawing it out, proceeded to ex-
anime the contents. Alas these were only
pieces of printed calico-pieces of many an
old dress which had long since been worn out,
and consigned, in the shape of rags, perhaps,
to the paper manufacturer-there was not
one fragment Of old linen in the bundle. Mrs.
Murphy was carelessly tying the fragments
together again, when she espied VIII At seemed
an old letter. She took it up .carelessly, but
her whole frame became agitated-it was a
well-remembered handwriting.
Mrs. Murphy was, to casual observer, a
commonplace looking woman; there was
usually cold expression on her rather hard
features +: there was a cast of sorrow and pain
about her eyes, but on her thin and pale lips
there was always indication of bitterness
which told that though she had sorrowed
much. she had not sorrowed as a Christian
should Her figure was middle-sized, and
neither majestic nor graceful; her plain,
brown stuff gown, and her still palmer thick
muslin cap, caused her to seem in all respects
an individual i'll whose mind there had never
been any feelings beyond the common order of
emotions which live and die in the great mas
ses OF the world.
Z 1,al htfrr, N
one---ay. many a day ago, thought il, she
whispered, still holding the letter in her
hand. The deepest sorrow of the world had
nassed through that woman's soul: hurri-
cane of passion was still within it, yet her
face was only something paer than usual,
and her lips a little more compressed.
She turned the letter over, and read few
words, then she suddenly crumpled it together
and tore it to pieces.
"rll do it-yes-l'll tear his happiness to
pieces, as am doing this--no more pity for
her-no more." titl
She was gazing out of the small window of
the apartment close to which public road
led. Two individuals were passing ut that
very moment; one was Mrs. Murphy's son,
and the other was the person who, thirty
years before, had written the letter Mrs. Muir
phy had Just torn. She looked OH his face,
and smiled with apparent calmness.
He was man OF somewhat respectable APP
pearance, though the black dress which he
wore was old and threadbare and showed
evident marks of having often been sorely
brushed. His name was Henry Allen, and he
was the master of a SCHOOL, in a rather humble
line in the neighboring town of L. His
face was inclining to ruddiness, notwithstand-
ing his sedentary occupation; and unlike
the generality Of schoolmasters, his counte-
NANCE was good-humored, and his brow was
very mild and benevolent the affections
the domestic affections-were written OH his
face, and expressed in every tone Of his voice.
He was almost sixty years of age; but in ap-
pearance he was not so old. Little did this
man think, as he entered Mrs. Murphy's
house, and saluted her with his usual mild
but cheerful manner, that thoughts of him, of
his long past, long forgotten letters, had
raised deadly storm of passion and rage in
her breast.
It was fully more than thirty years since,
j in his youthful days OF folly, he had paid at
tentions-more than attentions, itmight have
been-to Mrs. Murphy, then young girl
They had quarrelled, perhaps he had wilfully,
sven rudely quArrelled but then it was SO