Daily State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis, Ind.) 1861-1865, 1862-10-31
[Concluded.l

sank wearily back upon my pillow. and
as / did So | heard my mother whisper my
name. | listened attentively.
"IIad we better telegraph to him?" she said.
''There is no particular cause for your do
ing so. A letter sent by mail tomorrow
morning will answer as well. / do not appre-
hend any serious results from this attack. Do
as you please, however"
ave will send tonight, then. Walter can
come in the first train tomorrow" answered
my father.
''Don't, don't send for him" cried, spring.
ing wildly up. "If YOU love me- do not let
him know that | am i'll. / shall be better
soon. Donot look at me So am not delirous,
/ know what am saying-don't send for himl"
"Why not?" asked my father.
Because, because" faltered, 81 cannot
tell you why
"What is it child?" queried my father.
"Walter will never come here again for me;
he is"
"What?"
'He is married to some one elsel / read it
in to-day's paper" said.
''To-day's paperw responded my mother.
"Yes, it is in my mothers room; 90 for it."
The paper was found, and the evidence of
Walters perfdy read by each member of the
family before the wretched truth could be re-
allied, and then blank silenced followed
and my mother came to my bedside and put
her dear arms lovingly about me, and said, if
all other failed, she would rather suffer from
his fckleness a thousand times over than bear
up under his guilt; it was all for the best, even
though my heart broke under the burden
which bore down upon it.
How from my inmost soul | blessed that
mother for the comforting words she spoke to
me, and, while nestled closely to her arms,
like frightened, grieved child. and felt warm
tears upon my cheeks, her tender kisses upon
my lips, through my sorrow, little vein of
JOY found its way, and thanked God for my
mother-for my mothers lovel
In few DAYS was up and about the house.
The pride, that had been numbed by my first
shock of sorrow, took up life again and came
faithfully to my aid. put seal upon my
lips. Upon them should linger no regrets
play no words Of passionate tenderness; tarry
no names which had been uttered with so
much gladness Ny heart should prison all
its griefs, though in their rebellion it were
torn and broken. Pride should be the stern
sentinel which | would set to watch over it.
Pride, the sexton which should bury from the
ewes of the world my woe; the mutilated
corpses of my once brilliant hopes. The
world should have no tombstones to look upon,
and say, that in such place my dead was
living; /, and only, knew the silent resting
place.
And thus the days went on, till the time
| fixed for Walters coming was at hand. The
story of his marriage spread rapidly through
the village. Every gossip was busy with this
rare piece of news. If | went out. | was
watched as eagerly as though / were con-
demned criminal, or wild ferocious animal
that was bent upon some fatal mischief Some
said that was heart-broken; and others that
/ was nearly insane; and others still that had
fallen into sort of stupor from which ]
should never be aroused; that in all human
probability | should live but short time
God knows, prayed that the last may be so
that every day prayed not to see the light
of another; that the bridal robes laid away SC
carefully might be my shroud at the time
thought / should become a blessed, happy
wife,
The day on which Walter was to come
dawned at last. | knew, expected, that il
would be a wretched one to me, and / shud
dered when its light broke clear and rosily al
my windows. o, how everything mocked
me that morningl The mist rose up like q
fragrant breath from the lowlands at the frs
warm kiss of the sun, and lay ike a white
mantle at the feet of sweet, green hills. Tht
fields stretched away, glistening in the sun
light, as though their mantles were studded
with jewels; and the birds hymmed out theil
praises, rich and clear, upon the morning air
In all this, how wretchedly, how wickedly
cursed their very fate that made me look upoI
it-ive to see it.
wandered out into the woods, where tn,
silence grew more terrible than the busy bus
ting sounds of human life. went back Il
the village again; YEARLY towards home.
went past the station. i train had just tha