Wilmington journal. [volume] (Wilmington, N.C.) 1844-1895, 1867-11-22
TRACY'S SECOND WIFE.
BT HI-DE,V FOREST GRAVES.

"What makes you SO late tonight,
Tracy %
Frank Tracy laughed and Redeemed lit
tie as his roommate, Howard Leigh, care
lessly put the question.
"Blushing, eh ?" pursued the latter,
with spice of mischievous malice in his
voice, then of course I am to conclude
that you have been in the charming socie-
ty of some young lady"
"Your guess is partly right" said Ira
cy, lightly, ''but the lady is o very little
lady. To tell the truth, | have been spend
ing the evening at Mrs W4!ton's, and play
ing with that charming baby OF hers. I
never saw such & little Hebe in my life
Why, [ could have sat for hours with that
baby on my knee p
"Then am to conclude that she neith-
er cheWed yOur crstvat ends nor jerked at
your watch chain, to say nothing Of cry
ingr'
''Not bit Of it. She, most perfect
piece Of flesh and blood l ever saw in my
life; if l thought she would grow up half as
pretty as she is now, upon my life I'd wait
for her %
''And what would Loonore Warren
say %
"Ah; what indeed I'm glad you've re-
called me to loyalty, though certainly Leo
more can't very well be jealous of my tiny
firtations with Mrs. Waton's pretty baby.
Heigho, [ sometimes think I've made o
mistake in engaging myself to Leonore
Warren. She is as beautiful as an angel,
and yet somehow we don't seerl to be con-
genial"
Rather late to think about that, I
should imagine, when the wedding day is
fixed, and passage taken in the European
steamer for the wedding tour. By the way,
Frank, how long shall you remain in Eu-
rope ?"
4 can't say, some years, l believe.
Leonore thinks residence in Paris will be
delightful. [ don't agree with her but
brides. you know, are privileged to have
their own way. I'll tell you what, How
ard, the prettiest pink coral in Naples shall
be sent to hang around the ivory neck Of
Mrs. Walton's baby.
Frank, how fond you are of children"
YOU'RE wrong there, my boy-I am not
fond of children, generally speaking, but
don't know who could help loving that
little brown-eyed seraph."
Frank took up the newspaper as he
spoke, and the conversation gradually
merged into the all-entrancing subject o1
politics, foreign and domestic.
Twenty years have ebbed and flowed III
|
Mrs. Tracy had just taken possession OF
their elegant home, after a long residence
abroad. It was evening. The gllded clocE
| on the mantel pointed to the hour of seven
| the fire burned clearly III the ornamented
| crate, and the flowers in the several vase!
on each side of the chimney-piece, were
scarcely brighter in their hues than the
pictured blossoms on The superb Yelve
carpet. Frank Tracy, who had changed
from handsome youth into a tall, stately
man of about forty, stood thOughtfuly be
| fore tho fire. while his languid, faded-iook
| ing wife, reclinod on q sofa IN the lustrou'
shine of the glowing chandeliers. There
was only one guest present to break the
monotOuy of the cOnJugal tete-a-tete, anc
he was our old acquaintance Howard Leigh
81 do wish. Frank, you wouldn't keeI
drumming with your fingers on that man
tel, it makes me so nervous, but Of course
YOU do not care for that" exclaimed Mrs
Tracy, petulantly.
:'I beg your pardon, my love 1 was no
aware that L was annoying you.
"Why don't the servant bring up the
chocolate % pursued Mrs. Tracy, elevatine
her eyebrows.
"Shall ring and enquire 2"
"No, it isn't worth while. If we haC
only remained in la belle Paris, where the
S, L ants understood their business.
"Then you preferred Paris as resi-
dence," said Leigh.
80. by all means, but Frank never coulf
be contented there. It is the nlosJ absurC
whm of his returning to America %
You forget, Leonore, said Frank some
what grayely, "that America is homo p
Mrs. Tracy tossed her head and took re
fuge in bottle of smelling salts. Her hus
| band turned carelessly to Leigh and re
sumo the conversation that petlulance hat
disturbed.
Il haven't asked yet whether my old ac
quaintances, the Waltons, are living o.
dead. You have not forgotten my pen
chant for the beautiful baby"
"Oh, the Waltops disappeared long agt
from the current Of Now York life. Ill
failed, or something-blewh his brains out
[ believe. She died of broken heart
La Belle was sent, [ understood, to al
orphan asylum, where she has alread.
sprouted up into gawky, red-haired wo
man."
Tracy was silent moment contemplating
upon the sad facility with which people
slip from the cares and memories OF thel
friends in the whirl of large cities.
All at once the door was thrown open
and two or three rosy little children
bounded into the room, with long shln1n!