The Evansville journal. [volume] (Evansville, Ind.) 1866-1870, 1869-11-24
''TRUTu sTRAsGKR THAN FICTION"

In San Francisco, on the north side
of Folsom Street, overlooking Mission
Bay, stands a palatial residence.
The interior of this house Is ever
more beautiful than its exterior, every
apartment being in its way a gem OF
magnificenee and refinement.
The library especially realizes the
most perfect ideal OF an elegant and
cultured home.
And yet, at the moment we look In
upon him-one August afternoon, as
he occupied his library-the proprie-
tor.of all this wealth appeared of all
men the most miserable.
He was Mr.. Morton Preble, for
many years a leading banker OF San
Francisco ee
1t was n vain that the broad bay
window ct tie south end of the room
had been opened. giving ingress to the
sunshine and the fragrance Of rare
hoWers-in vain that the walls we're
lined with richly carved book. cases
and paintiugs-in vain that soft
couches and luxurious chairs had
been gathered around him.
He was Wretched.
He lay on a sofa, IN the depths Of
the great bay-window, the wreck Of q
once powerful man. His figure was
thin and gaunt; his face white as
marble; his ayes having an express
sion of woful apprehension, of har-
rowing anxiety, of dreadful expect
ancy.
1t was evident at a glance that no
merely physical ailment had made
him what be was.
By what whitening secret, by what
destroying affection, had he been thus
agonized? thus haunted? thus hunt
ed? be so noble and good! he so
wealthy and distinguished
AS he moved restlassly upon his
luxurious cushions the pretty clock
on the mantle-piece struck FIVE, every
stroke seeming to fall like a hammer
upon the heart of the nervous invalid.
He reused himself, struggling feebly
TO a sitting posture.
"Oh, will this fatal day never,
never pass?" he murmured; NOR
bring us relief?"
Noticing with a start that
he was alone, he touched q bell upon
a table before him, and called:
Helen, Helenl where are your"
DGlUIG LuG GCnOGO " ~ rNOANG na0
died out 3 step was heard, and his
wife entered his presence.
II left you only for a moment,
Morton" she said, advancing to the
bankers side. You were doing, /
think. | wished to send for the doc
tori"
She was a beautiful woman, Of
some Elk s9d thirty years, graceful,
with broad white bTows, and loving
eyes, in whi.h the brightness and
sweetness of a sunshiny nature were
still perceptible, under a grief and
anxiety no less poignant than that
eviuced by her husband.
THE doctorI' he echoed, half
Ieproachfully.
Yes, dear" she said, in a calm
and cheerful voice, as she drew a
chair to the side Of the sofa, and sat
down, stroking the corrugated fore
head Of the invalid with a magnetic
touch. "He will be here Immediately.
Your last crisis alarmed me.
You may become seriously illl'
MIR. Preble bestowed an affection
ate look upon his wife. but said des-
pondently:
THE doctorl he sonnet minister
to a mind diseasedl' Oh, if these
long hours would only passl If |
only knew what the day has yet in
store for usl'
Look up, Morton!" enjoined Mrs.
Preble, with a reverently trustful
glance upward through the open
window at the blue sky, and as if
looking beyond the azure clouds
therein. Let US appeal from the
II -sI-ol-o-1 ~ An,kA -
the goodness and mercy of HeavenF'
The banker gave a low, sobblng
sigh
swered, with a passionate tremor IN
his voiee-"Only down, down at the
grave that is opening before mel'
Mrs. Preble continued TO stroke
his forehead softly, while she lifted
her pale face to the sunlight stream
ing into the apartment.
Look up, Morton-always look
upi" she again epjOined upon. the in
valid. "During all these fourteen
years of agony, | have o once
doubted either the goodness or the
Justice of Heaven. Blessed are they
that mourn; for they shall be com
forted.' / believe that we shall yet
rejoice more keenly than we have
mourned, and that we shall come to
a glorious day of joy beyond all this
long night of sorrOwl'
The face of the invalid lighted W
with an answering glow, and he muir
INJURED:
Glorious faithl My wife, you are
indeed a blessed comforter! Perhaps,
after all, you are rightl'
A knock resounded on a side-dOoI
at this junction, and the next momen'
DIR. Hutton, the family physician, fol
whom Mrs. Probe had sent, entered
the room.
He was an cid man, portly in figure
with white hair aud beard, but witt
a fresh and rudy complexion, a pail
of shrewd blue eyes, and with an eX'
uperant bovishness of manner tina.
sat we'll upon him. He had a kline
heart and a clear head. lie approach.
ed the sofa, after greeting the hus
hand and wife, and lifted the thiI
restless band of the invalid, feeling
his pulse.
a brief pause. Worrying again, eh
Mr.. Preblc? You are wearing your
self out. Medicine will do you n
good So long as your mind is In 1T
present condition. must give 20,
an opiate-"
mot now. DOCTOR" i%nterposed tn
banker. II caunot-must not-slee
to-dayl / need to be awake now, TO
GrSunot tell at any moment what tn
asTt nay bring forth. | am lookingfO
the euiEination of all my years
anguish-for the browning agony 9
rhe whole. Perhaps even now All