Columbia democrat and star of the north. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1867, 1866-09-19

1 III d. dS WCll Ittu II MllllG l. Will 1OI
Algernnn,' she thought. How strange
this is Algernon' own writing
MARY heard your uncle Sinclair say
just now-that you cared not for me, but fol
my money solely. tits yours, unfetterred BY
me. Goodbye, forever.
Mary uttered al loud cry, as she clung to
her mothers arm.
Mamma, am not dreaming, am L? Am
wife and widow in a single hour
And she fell down Ike one dead at Mrs.
Kendalps feet. f..
There Is some misunderstanding, said
Mrs. Kendall, who had grown pale as a
| ghost. Colonel Medham viii be back in a
few hours. ts-.,s =, s
But the hours went by-and the days
non Medham never came back to the boau-
tiful young wife whose bridal day had been
so strangely clouded.
Only four miles to Winely village, sir,
Keep up a good heart, and III have you
there IN no time at all.
The kind-hearted stage-driver pulled the
warm buffalo robes closely around the waste
figure ere he mounted to his seat muttering
to himself:
He is MT fit to travel no how. l don't
see what his folks could ha' been thinkin' of
to let him go away from hum. Fever /
suppose. We'll, there IS no accountin' for
some folks freaks.
While Algernon Medham-so weak and
faint, the wlntry stars seemed blurs of light
against blueblack concave-lay back and
INDUCED in melancholy thought
Homeward bound at laStl And can it be
possible that L am coming home only to die {?
Well, Winely churchyard is a sweet and
peaceful spot-perhaps it is as we'll /
woull rather be buried where the fragrance
of the vlolets that purple Medham Park
shall be waited over my lonely grave by the
earliest Spring winds. may as well die in
the lutte village Inn. would not darken
Mary,s bright life with the shadow of death.
Perhaps she S married to happier man-if
so, viii perish as | have lived, and make
no sign. Yet L would like once more to see
her the sweet mistress of Medham Park. y
He reused from his gloomy, half delirious
revere, at what seemed the echo of his own
words, from two young men who were chat
tering carelessly on the opposite seat.
'Medham Park! 1t is the finest place in
the country, and very pretty romance
hangs over its beautiful lady"
How 90 you mean?"
Did you never hear? Mrs. Medham was
deserted by her husband
'No-nerer deserted ~
The words broke almost involuntarily
the sick man lips, in husked whisper that
was quite lnaudible to the speakers.
Within an hour of their marriage, in
consequence OF a strange misunderstanding
1t seems that relative of hers was speak
ing OF money match that had recently
transpired, within the bridegroom hearing,
and he rashly concluded that the terms ap-
piled to him. From that moment to this he
was never heard of. ~
A romance indeed and the bride p
Remains widowed bride. In truth, and
indeed, to this very hour she lives alone at
Medham Park, devoted entirely to his mem
ory. If all we hear is true, she must have
loved him with depth of affection that is
as rare as it is admirable.
And from that their conversation strayed
off to different topics, and neither noticed
the strange impression of the invalid face.
Here we are at Whitley, sir. At which
hotel shall leave you %
: Neither. Let me be driven up to the
Park"
The Park, sir2''
"Yes, the Park. !"
How strangely his foot fall sounds upon
the carpets of the stately yestibule- door
was open as he came forward, leaning on a
servant S arm.
All, six years had altered her but little,
and watchful as ever, she sat by the ruddy
glitter of the fire. her golden curls falling in
showers of brightness on her deep mourning
dress, and the flushed cheek resting on her
palm. While on her lap, open, lay his own
picture The picture he had given her In
the ''sweet counting days"
Mary ?"
She lookedup vaugely-this was probably
but one of the fevered fancies that had so
often led into agonizing disappointment.
Mary-my wife j?
"Oh, Algernon IL
"Now, indeed, she knew that it was her
husband S self, and springing to her feet she
burst into hysteric tears and laughed on his
breast. The years of patient waiting-the
long ordeal of sweet submission were re-
warded at last
And when the violets of spring time pur-
pied the sunny slopes of Medham Park, the
sweet odors foated across no nameless grave,
but famed the foreheadof happy husband
whose fair wife gathered the violets as she
walked by his side, with eyes that were full
of unspoken bliss.
NY TWO LOVERS.
nv NARY Z Clarke