Western Reserve chronicle. [volume] (Warren, Ohio) 1855-1921, 1869-11-24
THE BROKEN HOME.
TRUTH STRANGER THAN FICTION

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In San Francisco, on the north side of
Folsom Street, overlooking MissioniBay,
stands a palatial residence.
The interior of this house is even more
beautiful han its exterior, every apart
ment being in its way a gem of magnif-
cence and refinement.
The library especially realizes the most
perfect ideal of an elegant and cultured
home.
And vet, at the moment we look in up
OF him-one August afternoon, as he oc-
cupied his Gbrary-the proprietor of all
this wealth appeared Of all menthe most
miserable.
He was Mr.. Morton Preble, for many
wears a leading banker of San Francisco.
1t was in vain that the broad bay-win-
dow at the south end of the room had
been opened, giving ingress to the sun
shine and the fragrance of rare flowers
in vain that the walls were lined with
richly carved bookcases and painting
in vain that soft touches and luxurious
chairs had been gathered around him.
He was wretched.
He Law on a sofa. in the depths of the
great bay-window, the wreck of a once
powerful man. His figure was thin
and eaunt; his face white as marble; his
eyes having an expression of woful ap-
prehension, of borrowing anxiety, OF
dreadful expectancy.
1t was evident at a glance that no mere
" physical ailment had made him what
he was
Bv what whitening secret, by what des-
troying affiiction, had he been thus ago
nized? thus haunted? thus hunted? he
80 noble and goodi he so wealthy and
distinguished!
As he moved restlessly upon his luxu-
rious cushions the pretty clock on the
mantel-piece struck five, every stroke
seeming 10 fall like a hammer upon the
heart of the nervous invalid He aroused
himself, struggling feebly 10 sitting pos
ture.
"Oh. will this fatal day neve pass ?"
he murmured; "nor bring US relief?'
Noticing with a nervou start that he
was alone, he touched a bell upon a ia
BILE before him, and called:
"Helen, Helen! where are your
Before the echoes of his voice had died
out a step was heard, and his wife entered
Il left YOU only for a moment, Nor
ton" she said, advancing to the bankers
side. ''You were doing, I think. l
wished TO send for the doctorr'
She was a beautiful woman, of some
six and thirty years, graceful, with broad
white brows, and loving eyes, in which
the brightness and sweetness ofsunshiny
nature were still perceptible, under a
grief and anxiety no less poignant than
that evfnced by her husband.
''The doctor!' he echoed, half-reproach-
fully.
"fes, dear" she said, in a calm and
cheerful voice, as she drew a to the
side of the sofa, and sat down, stroking
the corrugated forehead of the invalid
with q magic touch. HE will be here
Immediately. Your last nervous crisis
alarmed me. You may become serious
-ly mr'
Mr.. Preble bestowed an affectionate
look upon his wife, but said despond-
emily:
1.-THE doctorl He cannot minister TO
mind diseaseP Oh, if these long hours
would only pass! If I only knew what
the day has yet in store for US :"
"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 clounds therein Let us appeal
from the injustice and wickedness of
earth to the goodness and mercy of
Heavenr'
The banker gavea low, sobbiEg sigh.
81 cannot look up, Helen" he answer
ed, with a passionate tremOr in his voice
-"only down, down at the grave that
is opening before mer'
Mrs. Preble continued 10 stroke his
forehead softy, while she lifted her pale
face to the sunlight streaming into the
apartment.
"Look up, Morton-always look upr''
she again enjoined upon the invalid
During all these fourteen years of agony
I have not once doubted either the good
ness or the justice of Heaven. Blessed
are they that mourn for they shall be
comforted." 1 believe hat we shall yet
rejoice more keenly han we have mourn
ed, and that we shall come TO a glorious
day Of joy beyond al this long night of
sorrowi
The face of the invalid lighted up with
an answering glow, and he murmured:
"Glorious faith ! Ny wife, you are in
deed a blessed comfort! Perhaps, after
al. you are rightP'
knock resounded on a side-door at
this ~juncture, and the next moment DR..
Hutton, the family physician, for whom
Mrs. Preble had sent, entered the room.
He was an old man, pOrtly in figure,
with white hair and beard, but with a
fresh and rudy complexion, a pair of
shrewed blue eyes, and with an eXuber-
ant boyishness of manner thai sat well
upon him. He had a kind heart and a
clear head. He approached the sole after
greeting the husband and wife, andlifted
the thin restless hand of the invalid,
feeling his pulse.
"Quite a high fever" he said, after a
brief pause. worrying again, eh, Mr..
Preble? You are wearing yourself out.
Medicine will do you 10 good so long as
your mind IS in its present condition.
I mus give you an opiate-"
Not now, DOCTOR" interposed the
banker. Il cannot-mCst nOt-sleep to-
dayi I need to be broad awake ROW., for
1 cannot tell at any moment what the
next may bring forth. I am looking for
the elimination of all my years of an
guish-for the browning agony Of the
whole. Perhaps ven nOw-Ah, what
was that? -
He started up wildly, and then, as the
sound that had disturbed him was not
repeated, he sank back again on his cush-
ions, pallid and painting.
The doctor looked at Mrs. Preble with
an anxious, questioning glance.
at is the anniversary she replied to
his unspoken induiry-"he anniversary
of cur loss"
"Ah, yes" said the doctor. 81 remem-
ber."
"Yes, it's another Of those terrible
days. cried the banker, in a hollow
v-hisner "Sit down, doctor, and / will
51sf5 he whole story. 1 can think of
attArS Use to-day, and am almost wild
sFp rehensiOn and anxiety. Sit
o. Hut. ton drew up a chair and seated
himself. b. is face expressing the double
soljcitude of a friend and physician.