The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1869-09-16

had staked so much, had turned out we'll
and they were as happy as health, love and
beauty can make Ewes sons and daugh-
ters, and that, we know, is for a short
span, sometimes very happy. don't be-
iieve that Christine was passionately in
love with her husband, but she was very
fond of him, as she we'll might be, since
it was to him she owed all that was bright
in her life And he adored her; in his
ewes she was the very fairest, cleverest,
most elegant creature in the world; every
thing she said and did was perfection.
They travelled constantly; he was new
er tired of showing her flesh beauties
and wonders. Switzerland, the Rhine,
the Italian lakes, Vienna, Dresden, Ven
ice, Rome, Naples, Paris; they visited all
in turn, and after nearly two years wan,
behring's, they resolved to return to Eng
land, spend a season in London, and then
90 for the summer to Mr.. Thelluson's es
tate in Devonshirc.
They were staying few days at Bou-
logne it was warm, spring weather, and
Christine was sitting on the grass bank
in front of the hotel, while her husband
went to battle with boy to whom he had
taken fancy the night before
Good bye, darling he said coming
up behind her, and leaning over the
bench to kiss her.
az won't be more than half an hour,
at the farthest, and then [ will take you
to buy bon-bons in the Rue Napoleon"
And the next time she saw the kind
handsome face, it was rigid in death.
John Thelluson had been drowned trying
to save his companion, who had swan
out too far. It
Poor Christine She not only lost the
man who had loved her SO dearly, but for
tune, position, everything besides. Mr..
Thelluson's estate, which was strictly en-
tailed, went to his cousin; he had lived
beyond his income, and spent every far
thing of available property. There had
been no will, no settlement, and so Chris
tine was left without literally penny in
the world. She had never seen her hus-
bands mother, who had been displeased
with her sons choice, and possessed keen
er interest in the children of her second
marriage. In her distress she sent for
her uncle, but he showed her very luke
warm kindness. Mrs. Thelluson was
too broken-hearted and miserable to
think just then of any means of support
and receiving at the time kind letter of
sympathy, from two maiden sisters of her
father, with the offer of q temporary
home, she had accepted thankfully the
only prospect open to her; and from the
time of her great sorrow, fifteen months
before the day of which write, had liv-
ed monotonous life at Fairbank with
her aunts ~s .,s,f, att.
No one who had not at once passed from
being petted and admired to quiet coun-
try vegetation with two middle-aged mar
row-minded women, can forma conception
of the WEAKNESS the poor girls life was
to her. It was perfect blank and moth
ing else. l'' -@' 81
Asshe sat by the margin of the river,
memories of the past crowding upon her
brain, she saw once more the kind, fond
face of the man, who had loved her so
dearly, and burst into sudden flood of
tears. a
care you so very miserable? said a
voice by her side. She started as she saw
Sir Fairfax Gwynne stood by her. When
she saw such tender pity in his face, she
did not feel cofused, but answered him
quite simply:
ooh, l am very, very miserable"
$50 am l." said he, with a great sigh.
"But,' said Christine, "you were never
utterly wretched like [ am"
"You think not !" he asked slowly.
ct am quite sure of it. You may have
been disappointed in one thing; but you
have not had all your life blighted like I
have"
He glanced at her surprised; and a
dark red flush came into his face Chris
tine remembered, with sudden confusion,
that he was an utter stranger to her. and
that she had no right to show her knowl.
edge of his private grief.
81 beg your pardon" she stammered
81 mean that--that even if one thing
went wrong with you, you have thous-
and others to make you happy"
"Have ?" he said, absently. "What?"
"You own all this beautiful place you
are rich, your own master you have ey-
erything in the world at your command,
and II have nothing"
"And, looking at you," Sir Fairfax an
swered, in his grave, earnest voice, IL
should have said it was you who had ev.
erything, and nothing. You are yonng
and beautiful-youth and beauty beget
love, and there are years of happiness in
store for you, while IT, and he sighed,
"feel quite old-and loveless old age is
the hardest thing in the world TO look
forward to, even if you owned a paradise
and the riches Of Cresus.''
sand Eet," said Christine,almost laugh
ing, "you have but to hold up your finger
to find fifty women who would be. only
too glad to love you"
"To marry me-" said Fairfax, with
some bitterness. 81 don't think anybody
ever loved me in my life, and 1 dare say
no one will begin now"
Christine looked up furtiYcly ana
scanned the face that was just then turn
"a q J;t+Ia 1r,ax, FROM, har VLo c1...a