The Union and journal. [volume] (Biddeford, Me.) 1858-1882, 1861-02-22
MlsteIIaneous.
HOW THE
COURSE OF TRUE LOVE RAN SMOOTH.

A cold easterly wind laden with sharp
pitiless rain, rlyed about the villa at Thor
ley's Point. In spite Of comfortable fires,
the warm carpets, the double windows, and
the excellent construction of the building a
damp and dreary atmosphere peryaded it,
AS dusk fell, the long parlors became intol-
erablc. Their furniture assumed ghostly
forms in the mysterious halflight, and myriad
shapes seemed starting every moment from
the curtains and mirrors.
Nor was the rest Of the house one whit
more cherry. The spacious bed chambers
were chilly and moist, and cold currents
swept the hall and entries, moaning at every
kcy.hOlc like the ghosts OF the mariners whom
one would think, that fearful storm bad
wrecked.
Perhaps the corner chamber over the draw
ing room was the saddest dreariest place Of
all. There on the wide and luxurious bed,
lay Squire ThOrly, owner OF the villa and
estates, rich and influential respected and
honored and loved, but now in the clutches
Of that awful sovereign who claims our al.
legiancc one day whether we will or not, and
laughs at our house and lands, our wealth
and influence, our respect, honor and love
alike.
Mark Thorley, the old Squire's only son.
a we'll grown and comely young fellow OF
two and twenty knelt beside his fathers
couch praying and sobbing incessantly. -.
lake comfort, my.boy,' whispered the old
gentleman; Il am going to meet your mother,
Mark. BE true to yourself, boy-be just to
others-neyer do that which YOU would not
have known-I-giye me your hand-here
II am cold-God bless you
4 That was all.
The wind roared and walled about the
mansion. and the whirling, driving rain beat
upon roofand window neither Squire Thorley
nor his son took heed. The one lay cold
and moSeloss in the embrace Of death, and
the Others passionate grief burned out all
the grosser senses.
After the funeral, the house seemed the
dcsolate place that only country house after
a funeral can seem after death has visited it.
Every room had its special phantom, day OF
night, and young ThOrley being of the
imaginative sort, felt that he should become
insane IL he remained here. Each object
that met his eve recalled his great bereavc-
ment and 20 open afrsh the wounds that
would not heal Life seemed already ex'
hausted to his grief jaundiced vision. The
love he had borne TO his father was peculiar
J ly intense and while be thought only OF tn,
sundering Of that love, he could see nothing
J in the future, or worthy in the present. Lei
me live in solitude and peacc,' he said; ther'
is, alter all more enjoyment in apathy thar
} in activity. will henceforth live the life o.
q hermit
In the halcycn days when his father hat
been his constant companiun in study and II
recreation-for they were more like colles'
J friends than like father and son-they ha'
built a sort of summer house on the farther
est end Of the Point aided by the remains o
ancient kiln that stood there. A strata o
lime stone. cropping out above water produee'
. this point, and the owner had quaried !
u pretty extensvely. burning IL into lime II
this kiln, and shipping it from rouch pie
close at hand.
y The pier had long since been washed away
i but the walls oil the kiln were stout, and a
n the graceful woodbins had covered the ruiz
e making IL q picturesque and pretty featur,
e in the view Squire rhorley allowed il to 70
q main.
Z A rough roof, q floor and some bcnchc
{ made il . convenient shooting-box in th