Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1869-11-25
THE BROKEN HOME.
s'Truth Stranger than Fiction

In San Francisco, on the north side OF
Folsom street, overlooking Mission Bay,
stands palatial residence.
The interior of this house is even more
beautiful than its exterior, every apart
ment being in its way a gem OF magnlh-
cence and refinement.
The library especially realizes the most
perfect ideal IF an elegant aud cultured
home.
And yet, at the moment We look in
upon him-one August afternoon, as he
occupied his library-the proprietor of
all this wealth appeared of all men the
most miserable.
He was Mr.. Morton Preble, for many
years leading banker of San Francisco.
1t was in vain that the broad bay
window at the south end of the room
had been opened, giving ingress to the
sunshine and the fragrance of rare f1ew-
Iers-in vain that the walls were lined
with richly carved bookcases and paint
ings-in vain that soft couches and lux
urious chairs had been gathered around
him.
He was wretched.
He lay on sofa, in the depths of the
great bay- window, the wreck of once
powerful man. His figure was thin and
gaunt; his face white as marble; his
eyes having an expression of wofuI ap-
prehension, Of narrowing anxiety, OF
dreadful expectancy.
1t was evident at glance that no
merely physical ailment had made him
what he was.
By what whitening secret, by what
destroying affiietion. had he been thus
agonized? thus haunted? he so noble
and good he so wealthy and distingu-
ished,
AS he moved restlessly upon his lux
urious cushions the pretty clock on the
mantel-piece struck five, every stroke
seeming to fall Ikea hammer upon the
heart. of the nervous invalid. He arous-
ed himself struggling feebly to sitting
posture.
oh, will this fatal day never, never
pass ?" he murmured; ''nOr bring US re-
lief?"
Noticing with nervous start that he
was alone, he touched a bell upon ia
BILE before him, and called:
Helen, Helen where are you?"
Before the echoes of his voice had died
out step was heard, and his wife en-
tered his presence.
II left you only for moment, Nor
ton," she said, advancing to the bankers
side. "You were doing, l think. L
wished to send for the DOCTOR"
She was beautiful woman, of some
six and thirty years, graceful, with
broad white brows, and loving eyes, in
which the brightness and sweetness of
supshiny nature were still perceptible,
under grief and anxiety no less poig
nant than that evinced by her husband.
1.-The doctor!" he echoed, half-re-
proachfully.
''Yes, dear" she said, in calm and
cheerful voice, as she drew chair to
the size IF the sofa, and sat down, strok-
ing the corrugated forehead of the in
valid with a ma 1netic touch. "He will
be here Immediately. Your last nervous
crisis alarmed me. You may become Sc
riously i'll"
Mr.. Preble bestowed IN affectionate
look upen his wife, but ,'aio despon-
IDENTIFY:
1.-The doctor! He cannot m. mister to
mind diseasedu Oh, if the sc long
hours would only passI If L only knew
what the day has yet in store for us y
Look up, Morton!" enjoined NJ rs.
Preble,, with reverntly trustful glanc e
upward through the open window at the
blue sky, and as if looking beyond the
azure clouds therein. "Let us appeal
from the injustice and wickedness of
earth to the goodness and mercy of
Heavenn
The banker gave low, sobbing sigh.
II cannot look up, Helen )" he answer
ed, with a passionate tremOr in his
voice-"only down, down at the grave
that is opening before meu'
Mrs. Preble continued to stroke his
forehead softly, while she lifted her pale
face to the sunlight streaming into the
apartment.
Look up, Morton-always look up!"
she again enjoined upon the invalid
During all these fourteen years of ago
ny, have not once doubted either the
goodness or the justice of Heaven
BLESSED are they that mourn; for they
shall be comforted' L believe that we
shall yet rejoice more keenly than we
have mourned, and that we shall come
to glorious day ofjoy beyond all this
long night of sorrOw!"
The face of the invalid lighted I'D
with an answering glow, and he MUIR
INJURED:
"Glorious faith! My wife, you are in
deed blessed comforter! Perhaps, af-
ter all, you are rghtr'
A knock resounded on a side-door at |
this juncture, and the next moment DIR. |
the family physician, for whom
Mrs. Preole had sent, entered the room. |
He was an old man, portly in figure,
with white hair and beard, but with a |
fresh and ruddy complexion, a pair of |
shrewd blue eyes, and with an eXuber-
ant boyishness of manner that sat we'll |
upon him. He had kind heart clear |
head. He approached the sofa, after |
greeting the husband and wife, and lift
ed the thin restless hand of the invalid; |
feeling his pulse.
"Quite high fever" he said, after a |
brief pause: worrying again, eh, Mr..
Preble? You are wearing yourself out
Medicine will do you no good so long as
your mind is in its present condition. 1 !
must give you au opiate-"
mot now, DOCTOR" interposed the |
banker. ~ cannot-must not-sleep to-
day! 1 need to be broad awake now,
for cannOt,tell at any moment what |
the next may bring forth. L am look |
ing for the elimination of all my years |
of anguish-fOr the crowning agony of
the whole. Perhaps even now All,
what was that? ?"
He started up wildly, and then, as the |
sound that had disturbed him was not |
he sank back again on his |
cushions, pallid and painting.
The doctor looked at Mrs. Preble with |
an anxious, questioning glance.
at is the anniversary" she replied to
his unspoken inquiry-"thea anniversary |
of our loss"
"Ah, yes" said the doctor. 81 re-
member"
"Yes,. it's another of those terrible
days." cried the banker, in a hollow |
whisper. 'Sit down, doctor, and L will
tell you the whole story. L can think |
of nothing else to-day, and am almost
wild with apprehension and anxiety
Sit down."
DIR. Hutton drew up chair and seated
himself, his face expressing the double
solicitude of friend and physician.