Keowee courier. [volume] (Pickens Court House, S.C.) 1849-current, 1860-05-05

OF her luxuious home, where ayerythins
indicating the wealth of its possessor. And
Cora, though robed in deepest black. was
more like herself, more like the Cora of other
days. than ! had seen her before since her
marriage, Of her husband she spoke freck-
ly and always with respect, saying lie had
been kinder far to her than she Had deserved.
VI Walter, too, she talked, appearing much
gratiiied when | told her how he was loved
and appreciated by lbs people.
Ono morning when we sat together in
her little sewing room, she said, II have
done what you, perhaps, will consider very
unwamanly act, have written to Walter
beaumont. Look and spc placed in my
hand letter which she bade me read. 1t
was Wild, etra@Sc thI5g, telling him oe
she anguish she had endured, of the tears
she had shed, of the love which though all
she had cherished for him, and begging of
him to forgive her if possible, and be to her
again what he had been years ago. She was
not worthy of him, she said, but he could
make her better, and in language the most
touching, she bcsought of him not to cast
her oft, or despise her because she l&G
stepped so far aside from womanIy deicacy
as to write to him this letter. "I will not
insult you," she wrote in conclusion, "by
telling you of the money for which | sold
myself; but it is mine now, lawfully mine,
and most gladly would | share it with you."
:" You will not send him this 7" said
You cannot be in carucst?'
But she was determined, and lest her
resolution should give way, she rang the
bell, ordering the servant who appeared to
take it at once to the office. He obeyed,
and during the day she was unusually gay,
oh of oil r.,
months had stood unopened and untouched
That evening, as the sun went down, and
the full moon rose over the city, she asked
me to walk with her, and we, ere long,
found ourselves several streets distant
from that in which she lived. Groups of
people were entering a church near by,
and from a remark which we overheard, we
learned that there was to be wedding.
r" Let us go in" she said, :" it may be
some one know" and entering together, we
took our seats Just in front O the altar
Scarcely were we seated when q rusting
of satin announced the approach Of the bri-
DIAL party, and in moment they appeared
moving slowly up the aisle. My first atten-
tion was directed toward the bride, a beauti-
full young creature, with fair sweet face,
and curls Of golden hair falling over her white,
uncovered neck
{" Isn't she lovely ?" 1 whispered but Cora
did not hear me-
With her hands locked tightly together,
hcr lips tightly compressed, and her cheeks
of an ashcn hue, she WAS gazing fxedly at
the bridegroom, on whom ], too, now
looked starting quickly, for it was our min
istcr, Walter Beaumont. The words were
few which made them one, Walter and the
young girl at his side, and when the ccre-
mony was over, Cora arose, and leaning hcav-
lily upon my arm, went out into the open
air, and on through street after street, until
her home was reached. Then, without a
word, we pnrtcd-I going to my room, while
She, through the livelong night, paced up
and down the long paror where no eye
could witness the working of the mighty sor-
row which had come upon her.
The next morning she was calm, but
very, very pale, saying not a word of last
nights adventure. Neither did she speak
OF it for several days, and then she said,
rather abruptly, Z" would give all possess
if had never sent that letter. The NOR
tifcation is harder to bear even than Walters
loss. But he will not tell of it, I'm sure. -
He is too good--too NOBLE and tears, the
first she had shed since chat night raincd
through her thin, white fingers 1t came
at last-a letter bearing Walters supcrscrip-
ton, and with trembling hands she opened
it, finding, as she had expected, his wedding
card, while on tiny sheet was written, ." God
pity you, Cora, even as / do.--WALrER."
Walter Walter % she whispered, and
her quiverng lips touched once the loved
name which she was never heard to breatEo
again. -
From that day Cora Douglass faded, and
when tho autunnal days were come, and lnc
distant hills were bathcd in the hazy October
| light, she died. But not in the noisy city, for
| she had asked to be taken home, and in the
] pleasant room where VIC had often sat togcth.
er, she badc me her last good by. They bu-
ricd her on the Sabbath, and Walters voice
was sad and low as with Cou's coffin at his
feet he preached from the words, {" | am the
Resurrection and the Life" His young wife
| too, @ert over the early dead, who had we'll
nigh beon her rival, and whose beautiful face
wore calm, peaceful smile, as if she were at
rest
There WASH wilI tbeyssaid, and in 1t Walter
was generously remembered; while to his
wife was given an ivory box, containing Cora 8
diamonds-nccklace, bracelets pin and ear
rings-all we're there; and Walter, as he look
| ed upon them, drew nearer to him his fair girl
wife, who but for these, might not, perahance,
have been to hfm what she was--his dearest
| eathly treasure. .. Y
THE FARMER's LTFE.-Thc farmor's life
is, not to scratch with the pen-rap, rap,
with the hammer-not for an everlasting un-
packing and repacking of anothers labor