Urbana union. [volume] (Urbana, Ohio) 1862-1872, 1869-11-24
THE BROKEN HOME.
TRUTH STRANGER THANFFICTIoN.

stands a palatial residence.
The interior of this house is even more
beautiful than its exterior, every apart
ment being in its way a gem Of magnifi-
cence and refinement.
The library especially realizes the
most perfect ideal Of an elegant and cul-
tured home.
And yet, at the moment we look in
upon him-one August afternoon, as he
occupied his Iibrary-the proprietor Of
all this wealth appeared Of all men the
most miserable.
He was Mr.. Morton Preble, for many
years a leading banker Of San Fran
cisco.
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 paintings
in vain the 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 a once
powerful man. His figure was thin and
.gaunt; his face white as marble; his eyes
having an expression of woful apprehen-
sion, Of narrowing anxiety, of dreadful
expectancy.
It was evident at a glance that no
merely physical ailment had made him
what he was.
By what whitening secret, by what
destroying affliction, had he been thus
haunted? thus hunted? he so noble and
good he so wealthy and distinguished
As he moved restlessly upon his lux
urious cushions the pretty clock on the
mantel-piece struck five, every stroke
seeming to fall like a hammer upon the
heart of the nervous invalid. He arous-
ed himself, struggling feebly to a sitting
posture.
"Oh, will this fatal day never, pass ?"
he murmured; nor bring US relief?
Noticing with a nervous start that he
was alone, he touched a bell upon ia
bic before him, and called:
"Helen, Helen where are you ?'
Before the echoes of his voice had died
out step was heard, and his wife enter
ed his presence.
al left you only for q moment Nor
ton" she said, advancing to the bank
ier's side. You were doing, I think. I
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 a
sunshiny nature were still perceptibIe,
under a grief and anxiety no less poign-
ant than evinced by her husband.
''The doctor ~ he echoed, half-re-
proachfully.
''Yes DEAR" she said, in calm and
cheerful voice, as she drew a chair to
the side of the sofa, and sat down, strok-
ing, the corrugated forehead of the in
valid with a magnetic touch. He will
be here Immediately. Your last nerv-
Gus crisis alarmed me. You may be-
come seriously iIIw
Mr.. Preble bestowed an affectionate
look upon his wife, but said despondent-
Iy:
"The doctor! He cannot minister to
mind diseasedY Oh, if these long
hours would only pass! If only knew
what the day has yet in store for y
'Look up, Mortonr' enjoined Mrs.
Preble, with a reverently glance 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 HeavenW
The banker gave a low, sobbing sigh.
Il cannot look up, Helen," he an
swered, with passionate tremor in his
vOice-"onIy down, down at the grave
that is opening before me ~
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 upw
she again enjoined upon the invalid
'Duringall 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.' I 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 sorrOwr'
The face of the invalid lighted up with
an answering glow, and he murmured: :
"GIorious faith My wife, you are in
deed a blessed comforter! Perhaps, af-
ter all, you are right ~
A knock resounded on a side-door at
this juncture, and the next moment DIR.
; 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 ruddy complexion, a pair of
shrewd blue eyes, and with an exuber-
ant bOyishness of manner that sat well
upon him. He had kind heart and a
clear head. He approached the sofa, af-
ter greeting the husband and wife, and
lifted the thin restless hand of the in
valid, 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.
I must give you an Opiate-"
''Not now, DOCTOR" interposed the
banker. Il cannot-must not-sleep to-
day! I need to be broad awake now,
for 1 cannot tell at any moment what
the next may bring forth. am looking
for elimination of all my years ofangu-
ish-for the crowning agony of the
, whole. Perhaps even now-Ah, what
: was that?n
He started up wildly, and then, az the
sound that had disturbed him was not
repeated, he sank back again on his
cushions, pallid and painting.
The doctor looked at Mrs. Preble with
, an anxious, questioning glance.
'It is the anniversary" she replied to
his unspoken inquiry-'the anniversary
of our loss"
"Ah, yes" said the doctor. Tremem-