Des Arc weekly citizen., 1868-04-25
THE SECOND MARRIAGE.


 She spoke the soft words twice be- fore he heard her, with wistful eyes timidly turned to his face.
 "What is it?"
 "May have the little gray ponies and ride out on the Templeton Road P
 "Ride out? No-yes-I wish you wouldn't tease me, Amy!' He spoke harshly, shaking off her little hand as if it's touch were unplea- sant to him and Amabel Presley turn ed away, trying to repress the tears that sprang involuntarily to her eyes.
 "He does not love me P she thought. "Oh, if knew but some spell to bring back the old fondness."
 She went slowly out into the bright ante-room where the winter sunshine steamed through oleander boughs and swinging trails of passion-vine leaves (for the scene of our tale is in the United States) and a great Newfound- land dog lay winking and blinking in the golden flood.
 "Nero, you love mel" she murmur- ed, throwing herself on the floor, with one arm around her canine favorite's neck.
 She was only child, this brown eyed Amabel Presley, not yet sixteen, and she looked more childlike than ever in her unconsciously picturesque attitude on the old rug, with the curls hanging loosely about her face, and the irrepressible quiver on her lips. But, all of a sudden, she glanced up with scarlet blush as shadow fell across the doorway.
 A tall, fair-haired gentleman was standing there, with his hat in his hand, and an amused expression on his countenance.
 Pardon me for startling you, my dear little girl" he said, gently; but have called to see Mr, Presley. Is he at home?" LII s
 Amabel stammercd some incoherent sentence about the next room, and the stranger bowed and passed on.
 Mrs. Presley took her embroidery and sat down under the oleander boughs. As she threaded the hair-likc needle, loud, derisivc laugh from the other room rang in her ears.
 "Your wife? Nonsense, Presley 1. l That child P
 1 q know I have been a fool !" return ed her husbands voice, in tone of annoyance and chargin. "I was infa- tuated-mad-and now it is too late for repentancc.'
 "Where did you meet with her?' asked the languid, softly -modulated voice.
 "In New Orleans-left an orphan at great hotel by the death of her father, alone and unprovidcd for. One could not but pity her"
 And pity is akin to love-" laughed the stranger. understand your case completely, Presley. But surely she's pretty enongh to suit even your fastid- l ious taste."
 "A doll---a vapid, wearisome doll " returned Presley impatiently. And to think that am tied to her for life! "Thcn why the deuce did you marry herb
 "I tell you, Rayncr, I was infatuated with her brown eyes and golden hair ; and now, when it is too late, have discovered my mistake" | Amabels dizzy senses comprehcnded the conversation no further She had sat, silent and motionless, every word burning it's imprint on her heart as if they had been live coals.
 She sat there nearly an hour, with her head dropping on her breast, and her hands clasped idly on her knees. Finally she rose and went upstairs, with slow, languid steps. She had entered the room child-shc left it a hard, determined woman.
 It was almost dark when Maurice Presley came out of his library, to look for the little wife who delighted to trip on all his errands.
 "Amabel! Amy!" But there was no response.
 "Stephenson,p he said to the smart maid who was replepishing the fire with coal, Ego up to Mrs. Tresley's room and tell her that Mir. Rayner will stay to dinner
 Half a minute later Stephenson came back.
 .'She is not there, sir"
 "Not there?"
 "No, sir; and Mary Anno says she saw Mrs. Presley go out. all wrapped up, two hours ago."
 "Did she drive the gray ponies9' "No, sir, she went on foot. And please, sir, here's a bit ofpaper found on her dressing ease, with your name on the outside"
 Presley opened tho note with con- tracted brow. But there was some- thing in the penciled lines that blanch- ed his cheek.
 'l know that you arc weary of me {; had l known it before, you would sooner have beep relieved of the bur den of my presence. Forget me--and try to return to the old time before you ever saw AMABEL."
 That was all. Maurice Presley smil- cd bitterly.
 "A mere childish pet, he murmured. "She will be back, half-frightened out of her senses, as soon as 1t grows dark. It is unfortunate, however, that she ebnuf1 haua ovarbaaI that unlncl v