The Xenia sentinel. [volume] (Xenia [Ohio]) 1863-186?, 1864-01-19
Written for the Sentinel
THROUGH MISTSr
BY JENNIE CAULFIELD.
1C1RtiRtlsd1

D
which were in perfect keeping with the show
rooms of Oakwood.
We arrived in Washington in the dead of
night, and there was a strange awe about the
place, impaired by the Iateness of the hour,
that impressed US all like a presentiment of
evil, as we peered out through the narrow car
riage-windows into the deserted streets, dis
cernible by the Pickering gas-lights. Clara
and Mrs. Brown recognized the old frequented
ways, as we whirled through the avenues, but
to me they had no meaning, as we turned un-
familiar corners into streets that departed
further and further from what I remembered
Of Baltimore and knew of Westville, and bore
no home-Iike resemblance to the old associa-
tions. It was relief to stop before the hos
pitable-looking mansion, which, in defiance
of grandeur, bespoke home, not only exter-
nally, but internally; every inanimate OBJ
ject was clothed with tongue speaking of
welcome, not only to the inmates there, but
even to the very stranger within its gates pro-
claimed, not only in the assurances of the
host, but in the smiling physiognomy of the
porter and the inviting position of the fur
niture of the drawing-room.
We had been expected all day, for Mrs.
Moreland had preceded US The windows
were all alight and cheerful fires were still
burning and refreshing coffee awaited US in
the cosy dining-room. Wearied, jaded as we
were, it revived us wonderfully, and put us
in the best of humor with ourselves and the
world at large; and, Notwithstanding the un-
seasonableness of the hour, we were enabled
to do much of the disagreeabIe business of un-
packing before we retired. It was raining
steadily in the morning, heavy gray clouds
rolled over the sky incessantly, and there was,
no prospect of the weather clearing. Never
came gloomy day more timely to those who
needed rest.
But our afternoon was destined to be broken
in upon by callers. Some came for the sake
of old acquaintanceship, some through kind
intentions, but many most through curiosity,
to see the young debutant. had begged
leave of absence from the drawing-rOOm and
was enjoying myself hugely in Mr.. Browns
library, but could hear the carriages as they
drew up and the pompous delivery of Leo as
he announced the callers.
We had the evening to ourselves. Mrs.
Brown was quite her former self, SO fully re-
stored to her former brilliancy that she awak-
ened fond admiration in the heart of her
husband, that shot up into his face as his
eyes followed her quick movements about the
room. She was very charming. 1 thought
she was like a humming-bird. Mr. Brown
yield to her persuasive cOaxing to have " one
little waltz for practice sake" which Clara
ratified eff in a most pleasant and spirited
style, that would have summOueda spirit in
the feet of any one averse to dancing, if
they had a appreciation of music. Claras
eyes were dark and lustrous with animation,
and her face was eager with bright anticipa-
ton. My own heart beat high with pleasure.
I sympathized with Mrs. Brown in her love OF
city life. One forgot the gloomy, starless
evening without when listening to the foot
falls and voices of pedestrians, and anon a
Joyous whistle defying the elements, and the
FLASHING of carriages as they dashed along
your heart went forth to meet the stir with
out, bearing fellOw-feeling toward all hu-
manity.
Late in the evening, when we bid Mrs.
Brown good night, she kissed us with such
free, happy heart that it occasioned Clara to
say to me, as we went up stairs:
" 1 think it will do little mother good she
loves excitement and festive scenes so well,
and it will prove beneficial to all of us, indeed.
But, little demure puss, l wish you were put
ting on your boots to come out into this great
strange world with me; could enjoy it bet
ter, then"
any heart, said, " will be with you al
ways
a am sure of it, she replied, kissing me;
"you have not formed the least conception of
that which you are in my life, darling. 1t is
such q blessing to have you here with me. l
love you, little warrior"
The old name vibrated painfully upon some
chords. It hurled me back into that part,
from which shrank with that past into which
seemed to have been crushed the prolific bloom
of my life, upon which a rank mildew rested
and the shadow of an ever-approaching death.
We paused at the doors of our separate rooms.
Clara, said I, % in this grand world you
are entering you will be making other friends,
and forming new ties, and 1 feel as if you
were going out to battle with your new lot on
your shoulder, like Jennot's bayonet, and
your gorgeous dry goods on you'll be court
ing other loves and forget the loved ones at
home, so l will exact a pledge Of faith let us
exchange rings"
COnditionally," said she; "promise there
shall be no weeping at home, that you will
make yourself happy in this house-your
own house-when l shall be separated from
you in the intoxicating delights of society
We exchanged rings. They were plain cir
cles, which we had worn in our school-days,
and endeared to n degree Of worth far excell-
ing the jewelers. value. 1t ever comiorted
me to see it still UpOn her finger among the
diamonds and pearls and rubies l used to
sit at home, when she was gone to gay parties,
and turn the little ring upon my finger, mar
yelling the while at her truthfulness to me. I
coveted the better taste of her new dressing
maid, Frances-a present from her father,
late purchase with a view TO Washington life
and tormented her with my assistance at
the toilet. | had attended, at the first dress
ing, with n shuddering heart, because it
seemed as if Clara was going on a journey
away from me. I look back at it now and it
is all like n pantomine. The pleasant exuber-
ance of life and agreeable stir throughout the
house, the servants fastening TO and fro the
swift opening and closing Of doors, the illu-
mination of gas in every room where Mrs
Brown having dressed in her impaticnce to
be off an hour too soon, wandered the soft
rustic of her dress, being like the uneasy
AutteTing of a bird, with the paving of the
horses at the door, was truly magnificent.
Then the simple spray of flowers was fastened
on her becoming braids, the bracelets clasped,
and an unnecessary finishing touch was
given to the folds of her dress that might
krow exactly how she looked. I wished the
fates had decreed that Henry Allen should see
her then. The dress was pinned up, a nuhia
was dOnned. aH oPCra-cloak was thrown about
her, and she went from me in n cloud of snowy
wrappings and muslin, as it were. and was
rushed into the carriage and whirlcd away
into darkness and space.
l straycd through the house. haunting each
room like a restless ghost all but the library