Weekly Trinity journal., 1866-06-23
NUMBER "a.
The Widowed Bride.

Scarcely a child, yet scarcely woman, Mary
kendale stood there in her white silk and orange
blossoms, with the sunlight OF the old church
window falling upon her as if she had been some
sweet midaval saint. And Colonel Medham, as
he held her hand in his, and listened to the sol
emn words that joined them together, now and
forevermore, felt that his cup of happiness was
full to the very brim
Ny wife, my dear little child wife, he said
tenderly, when they led her away to remove the
white veil and fragrant waxen blossoms, in order
that she might don her quiSter travelling dress.
And Marys blue eyes, clear and liquid as the
June armament mirrored in clear woodland
spring, answered him without the need of words.
Was it strange that Colonel Medham scarcely
believed it possible that he, the bronzed middle
aged man, with grave eyes and serious aspect,
could have won the exquisite human blossom to
gladden. his home? Was it strange that he look
ed his happiness as dream from when DC
might at moment awaken
s'Of course it merely money match
ANY one with half an eye could see thro' that"
Colonel Medham started as the words fell upon
his ears, but the unconscious speaker, standing
just within the doorway of an adjoining room,
went on:
"She DON care pin for him personaly-she
merely wanted his money but he is too blind,
and the voice died away in the buzz OF score
of others. One instant Colonel Medham stood
there pale and motionless, like one stricken with
the hand of death. And in that instant his re-
solve was taken.
"Where is my husband p
The very blood mounted to Mary Medhams
cheeks she-the wife of single sunshine hour
spoke Der questioning words
% Call Algernon, mamma tell him am quite
ready"
She looked sweeter in her travelling dress than
she had in all the CLEAN of pearls and snow-whlte
silk-the fair little creature.
"If you please, ma am, - said a rough-lookinG
man, carelessly elbowing his way through the
crowd, I" here's a note for Mrs. Medham.
Mary broke the seal with transient thrill OF
curiosity.
" may as well read it while wait for Alger-
non, - she thought. " How strange this is AL
gernon's own writing ~ 1t read
heard yonr Uncle SS, @ words jus, ~
yours, unfettered by me. Good bye, forever A. NJ"
| Mary uttered a low cry as she clung to her mo-
Tiers arm. " Mamma, am not dreaming, am
| /? Am wife and widow, both in single hour?"
And she fell like one dead at Mrs. Kendall feet.
"There is some strange misunderstanding,
said Mrs. Kendall who had grown pale as a
ghost. :! Colonel Medham will be back in
few hours
But the hours went by-and the days-and the
days-and the weeks-aye, even the years-and
Algernon Medham did not come back to the
beautiful young wife whose bridal day had been
so strangely clouded.
q Only four miles further to Whitley village,
sir. Keep up tha good heart, and well have
you there in no time at all"
The kind hearted old stage-driver pulled the
warm old buffalo robes closer around the wasted
figure in the corner ere he mounted to his seat,
mutterng to himself:
He isn't fit to travel, nohow. don't see
what his folks could ha' been thinking of, to let
him go away from hum. Fever, s'pose. Well,
there's no countn' for some folks Freaks
While Algernon Medham-so weak and faint
that the wintry stars above seemed blurs of
light against the blue black concave-lay back
and INDUCED in melancholy thought.
g IIomeward bound at least And can it be
possible that | am coming home only to die?-
Well, Winley churchyard is a sweet and peace
full spot-perhaps it is well. I would rather be
buried when the fragrance Of the violets that
purple Medham Park shall be waited over my
lonely grave by the earliest spring winds. may
as well die in the little village inn. would not
darken Marys bright life with The shadow Of
death. Perhaps she has married some happier
man-if so, | will perish have lived, and
make no sign Yet | would like more to
see her, the sweet mistress of Medham Park"
He reused from his gloomy, half delirious
reverie at what seemed the echo of his own
words, from two young men who were chatting
carelessly on the opposite seat.
Medham Park 1t is the finest old place in
the country, and very pretty romance hangs
over its beautiful lady"
How do you mean ~
Did you never hear Mrs Medham was de-
serted by her husband"
"No-neper deserted ~
The words broke almost involuntariy from
the sick mans white lips, in husky whisper,
that was quite inaudible to the speakers.
within an hour of their marriage in con-
sequence of strange misunderstanding. 1t
seems that relative of hers was speaking of a
tboth had tIy in
bridegroom hearing and he rashly concluded
the terms applied to him. From that moment to
this he has never been heard of.
"A romance indeed. And the bride ?''
q Remains a widowed bride in truth, and
indeed, to this very hour. She lives alone at
Medham Park, devoted entirely to his memory
If all hear is true, she must have loved him
with depth of affection that is as rare as 1t Is
admirable"
And from that their conversation strayed on
to other topics and neither noticed the strange
expression on the invalid white face.
q Here we at Whitley, sir At winch ho'ei
shall leave you 2" n,u
"Neither. Let me be driven up 10 'no "A
THE Park, sir 2?
Yes, the Park a.. 80,
How strangely his footballs sound on the vel
ret carpets of the stately vestbuie-tne doors
open as ne caAe ~
servant s arm. ... ,;..,. o,a
wa,cbfuI as eyer, she sat by the raddy glitter of
the fire, her golden curls falling in shower OF
hr;obtness on her deep mourning dress and on the
ensbed cheek resting on her hand. while on her
Ian open lay his own picture-the picture he had
giyen her in the I" sweet courting days.
"Mary?"
She looked up vaguely-ths was most proba-
bly but one of the fevered fancies that had SO Of
ten led into agonized disappointment.
q" Mary-my wife ~
"Oh, Algernon "
Now, indeed, she knew that it was her hus-
bands self. And springing to her feet, she burst
into hysteric tears and laughter on his breast
The years of patient waiting-the long ordeal
of sweet submission-were rewarded at last
And when the volets of spring time purpled
the sunny slopes of Madham Park, the sweet
odors hoated across no nameless grave, but fan
ned the forehead of happy husband, whose fair
wife gathered them as she walked by his side,
with eyes that were full of unspoken bliss