The Wheeling daily register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1864-1878, 1867-12-07
TRACY'S SECOND WIFE.
BY HELEN FOREST GRAVES.

Frank Tracy laughed and Redeemed q
little Us his ROOM mate, Howard Leigh,
carelessly put the question.
"Blushing, eh'" pursued the latter,
with q spice of mischievOus malice in
his voice, "then of course am to con-
clude that yOu have been in the charm
ing society of some young lady,"
"Your guess is partly right" said Ira
cy, lightly, "but the lady is very little
lady. To tell you the truth, l have
been spending the evening ut Mrs. Wal
toms, and playing with that charming
baby of hers. l never saw such little
Hebe in my life. Why, l could have
sat for hours with that baby on my
knee ~
"Then AIN to conclude that she neith-
er chewed your cravat ends nor jerked
at your watch chain, to say nothing OF
crying! .os;. c,o,. ,,o n,o.. mar
feet little piece of flesh and blood ever
saw in my life; ifI thought she would
grow up half so pretty as she is now,
upon my life I'd wait for her"
"And what would Leonore Warren
say :"
'Ah, what indeed; Pm glad you've
recalled me to loyalty, though certainly
Leonore can't very well be jealous OF
INV tiny fiirtations with Mrs. Walton's
pretty baby. Heigho, l sometimes think
I've made mistake in engaging myself
to Leonore Warran. She is as beautiful
as an angel, and yet somehow we don't
seem to be congenial.'
"Rather late to think about that, l
should imagine, when the wedding day
is fixed, and passage taken in the Euro
peau steamer for the wedding tour. by
the way, Frank, how long shall You re-
main in EuropeP
81 can't say, some years | believe.
Leonoro thinks residence in Paris will
be delightful. l don't agree with her;
but brides, you know are privileged to
have their own way. I'll tell you what
Howard, the prettiest pink coral in Ma
pies shall be sent to hang around the
ivory neck of Mrs. Walton's baby"
Frank, how fond you are OF chill
drenw
"You're wrong there, my boy-I anu
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 enhancing subject
of politics, foreign and domestic.
Twenty years have ebbed and flowed
in the broad channel of time, and MIR.
and Mrs Tracy had just taken posses
sion 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 clear
ly in the ornamented CRATE, and the
flowers in the several vases on each side
of the chimney-piece, were scarcely
brighter in their hues than the pictured
blossoms on the superb velvet carpet.
Frank Tracy who had changed from
handsome youth into tall stately man
of about forty, stood thoughtfully be.
fore the fire, while his languid, faded
looking wife, reclined on sofa in the
lustrous shine of the glowing chande-
liers. There was only one guest pre-
sent to break the monOtomy the conju-
gal tete- a-tete, and he was our old ac-
guaintance Howard Leigh.
"I do wish, Frank, you wouldn't keep
drumming with your fingers on that
mantel, it makes me so nervous, but OF
course You do not care for that" ex'
claimed Mrs. Tracy, petuantly.
81 beg your pardon, my love; l was
not aware that / was annoying you"
"Why don't the servant bring up the
chocolate ~ pursued Mrs. Tracy, eleva-
ting her eyebrows.
"Shall ring and enquire 7"
'No, it isn't worth while. If we had
only remained in la belle Paris, where
the servants understood their business" /"
"Then you preferred Paris as a resi-
dence," said Leigh.
80, by all means, but Frank never
could be 'contented there. 1t is the
most absurd whim of his, returning to
America "
"You forget, Leonore," said Frank
somewhat gravely, "that America is
homew
Mrs. Tracy tossed her head and took
refuge in bottle of smelling salts. Her
husband turned carelessly to Leigh
and resumed the conversation that her
petulance had disturbed.
81 haven't asked yet whether my old
acouaintances, the Waltons, are living
or dead. You have not forgotten my
penchant for the beautiful baby"
"Ob, the Waltens disappeared long
ago from the current of New York life.
Hefailed, OF something-blew his brains
out, l believe. She died of broken
heart. La Belle was sent, understood,
to an orphan asylum, where she has al
ready sprouted up into a gawky, red
haired woman"
Tracy was silent moment contem-
plating upon the sad facility with which
people slip from the cares and memo
ries of their 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 shin-
ing curls hanging on their white shoul-
ders, and eyes all in sparkle with iu-
fantine merriment.
"Don't come near me, you noisy little
moHstersp lisped Leonore, waving
them away with her snowy, jeweled
hand; "you'l crush my silks aud laces
ruinously r.