The Van Buren press., 1867-10-04
MISCELLANY.
TRACY's SECOND WIFE.
BY HELEN FORREST GRAVES.

Tracy Z"
Frank Tracy laughed and Redeemed a
little as his room mate, Howard Leigh,
carclessly put the question.
Bushing eh?" pursued the latter with
spice of mischieyous malice in his voice,
then of course ! am to conclude that
you have been in the charming society of
some young lady"
Your guess is partly right, = said Ira
cy, lightly, e but the lady is a very little
lady. To tell you the truth, l have been
spending the evening at Mrs. Walton's,
and PLAYING with that charming baby of
hers. never saw such little Hebe in
my life Why, | could have sat for hours
with that baby on my knee"
Then | am to conclude that she neither
chewed your cravat ends nor jerked at
your watch chain, to say nothing of cry
ing!'
Not bit Of it. She's the most per
feet little 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 Leonore Warren
sayt"
All, what indeed! I'm glad you've
recalled me to loyalty, though certainly
/ Leonore can't very well be jealous OF my
tiny firtations with Mrs. Walton's pretty
baby Heigho, | sometimes think I've
made a mistake in engaging myself to
Leonore Warren She is as beautiful as
an angel, and yet somehow we don't seem
to be cOngeniaL"
Rather late to think of that, should
imagine, when the wedding day is fixed,
and passage taken in the European steam
er for the wedding tour BY the way,
Frank, how long shall you remain in En-
rope p
Il can't say, some years believe. Le-
onOre 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 | can find in
Naples shall be sent to hang around the
ivory neck of Mrs Walton's baby
Frank, how fond you are of fchildren !
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 enhancing subject of
politics, foreign and domestic
Twenty years have ebbed and flowed
in the broad channel of time and Mr. and
Mrs Tracy had Just taken possession of
their elegant home after long residence
abroad. 1t was evening. The gilded
clock on the mantel pointed to the hour
of seven, the fire burned clearly III the
ornamented CRATE, and the flowers in the
several vases on either side Of the chin
ney-peice were scarcely brighter in their
hues than the pictured blossoms on the
superb velvet carpet Frank Tracy who
had changed from handsome youth into
a tall, stately man of about forty, stood
thoughtfully before the fire, while his
languid, faded-ooking wife, reclined on
sofa in the lustrous shine Of the glow
ing chandeliers. There was only one
guest present to break the monotOny Of
the conjugal tete-a- tete, and he was our
old acquaintance Howard Leigh.
II do wish, Frank, you wouldn't keep
drumming with your fingers on that man
tie, it makes me so nervous but Of course
you do not care for that" exclaimed Mrs.
Tracy, petulantly.
Il beg your pardon, my love; l was
not aware that ] was annoying you"
"Why don't the servant bring up the
chocolate p pursued Mrs. Tracy, elevat
ing her eyebrows.
"Shall l ring and enquire y
"No, il isn't worth while. If we had
only remained in ia belle Puris, where the
servants understand their business"
Then you preferred Paris as resi-
dence,' said Leigh.
80, 10y all means, but Frank never
could be contented there. 1t is the most
absurd whim Of his, returning to Ameri-
can'
"You forget, Leonore,' said Frank
somewhat grayely, :" that America is
homen'
Mrs Tracy tossed her head and took
refuge in a bottle of smelling salts. Her
husband turned carelessly to Leigh and
resumed the conversation that her petu-
lcnce had disturbed,
81 haven't asked yet whether my old
acqraintances the Waton's, are living or
dead. You have not forgotten my pen
chant for the beautiful baby
"Oh, the Wllt2n's disappeared long
ago from the current Of New York life.
lie failed, or something--blew his brains
out, | believe. She died Of Il broken
heart. La Belle was sent, ! understood
to an orphan asylum, where she has al
ready sprouted UP into gawky, red
haired woman
Tracy was silent moment, comment
ing upon the sad facility with which peo-
pie slip from The cares and memories Of
their friends in the whirl Of large cities.
All at once the door was thrown open,
onl tun fhrpo IittIp nhilIrau