The Wheeling daily register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1864-1878, 1869-11-24
The Broken Home.
STRANGER THAN FICTION"

TRUTH STRANGER THAN FICTION
| In San Francisco, on the north side o.
Falsom street, overlooking Mission Bay
stands palatial residence.
| The interior of this house is even
more beautiful than it's exterior, every
apartment being in its way gem oi
magnificence and refinement.
The library especially realizes the
most perfect ideal of an elegant and cul'
tured home.
| And yet, at the moment we look iH
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 Francis
go.
It 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 flow
ers-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 a sofa, in the depths of the
great bay-window, the wreck of n once
powerful man. His figure was thin and
gaunt; his face white as marble; his eyes
having an expression of woful appre-
hension, of narrowing anxiety, of dread
full expectancy.
H. was evident at glance that no
merely physical ailment had made him
what he was.
By what whitening secret, by what
destroying aftliction, had he been thus
agonized thus haunted thus huntedi
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-picce struck five, every stroke
seeming to fall like hammer upon the
heart of the nervous invalid. He
aroused himself, struggling feebly to a
sitting posture.
"Oh, will this fatal day never, never
pass f'her murmured; "nor bring us re-
liefp
Noticing with nervous start that he
was alone, he touched bell upon table
before him, and called:
"Helen, Helen where are youH"
Before the echoes of his voice had
died out step was heard, and his wife
entered his presence.
Il left you only for moment, Nor
ton," she said, advancing to the bank
er's side. "You were doing, think.
| 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
sunshiny nature were still percepti-
BILE, under a grief and anxiety no less
poignant than that evinced by her hus-
band.
"The doctorw 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,
stroking the corrugated forehead Of the
invalid with magnetic touch. "He
will be here Immediately. Your last
nervous crisis alarmed me. You may be-
come seriously ill.,
Mr.. Preble bestowed an affectionate
look upon his wife, but said respondent
ly:
"The doctor! He cannot minister to
mind diseased Oh, il these long
hours would only pass! If I only
knew what the day has yet in store for
usw
Look up, Morton~ enioined Mrs.
Preble, with reverently trustful glance
upward through the open window at
the blue sky, and as if looking beyond
the azure clouds therein. Let US ap-
peal from the injustice and wickedness
of earth to the goodness and mercy of
Heaven
The banker gave a low, sobbing
sigh.
II cannot look up, Helen" he answer
ed, with passionate tremor in his
voice-"only down, down at the grave
that is opening before mer'
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 eDjoined upon the invalid.
During all these fourteen years OF
agony, have not once doubted either
the goodness or the justice of Heaven.
Blessed are they that mourn; for they
shall be comforted.' / believe that we
shall yet rejoice more keenly than we
have mourned, and that we shall come
to glorious day of Joy beyond all this
long night of ssrrowm
The face of the invalid lighted up
with an answering glow, and be mur.
INJURED:
GLORIOUS faith! Ny wife, you are in
deed blessed comforter! Perhaps, af-
ter all, you are right"
a knock resounded on . side-door al
this iuncture, and the next moment DR.
Hutton, the family physician, fer whom
Mrs. Preble had sent, entered the room
He was an old man, portly in fgure
with white hair and beard, but with q
fresh and ruddy complexion, pair ot
.hrewd blue eyes, and with an exuber
ant boyishness of manner that sat vel
upon him. He had kind heart and q
clear head. He approached the sofa
after greeting the husband and wife
and lifted the thin restless hand of the
invalid, feeling his pulse.
"Quite high fever" he said, after &
brief pause Worrying again, eh, Mr.
Predict You are wearing yourself out
Medicine will do you no good SO Ions
as your mind is in its present condition
must give you an opiate-"
"Not now, doctor" interposed th,
banker. 81 cannot-must not-sleeI
to-day! l need to be broad awake n ow
for i cannot tell at any moment wha
the next may bring forth. am lookin.
for the culmiuation of all my years o
anguish-for the crownipg agony of th
whole. Perhaps even now Ah, wha
was thatp
He stared up wildly, and then, as th
sound that had disturbed him was no
repeated, he sank back again on hi
lcushiens, pallid and painting.