St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1871-07-14

m0tloncd him To proceed.
"IIas this wound-such y0u have
called ir'-he spoke slowly-''cut no
deeper than your pride !'
| could not speak. Two scalline
tears forced themselves from my eyes,
and in shame | covered my face; for
through the nnspcakable tenderness.
without which even now cannot think
of my cousin, | felt that the truc love Il
man has the right to demand from the
woman who consents 10 b. his wife had
never been given TO him.
at is enough" SAID Philip, cumina
close TO me and removing my hands that
he might study my face for Il moment !;
and had been less humiliatr,l might
modification of his tone AT least |
have not Ia repent having broken 4 wo-
mans heart-il' women have hearts,
hc added bitterly, ";,nd if they are made
10 break. But" hc continued more
gently, 81 must ask you TO believe that
| never intended TO deceive you"
AS for all that, think we may cry
quits, Philip" | interrupted I'VE
have dcludcd ourselves, and all that is
left for Us is TO part in peace" AMI as
lac held my hand a moment, aud we
stood looking sadly at one another in the
truth-telling moonlight, the Ghosts of our
wasted youth rose up between us with
all the undcvelopcd possibilities oi our
lost years he, in his godike strength
and beauty, purpo'elrss and cifemInalcd
and !, with the rich ,d"wrr of vigorous
womanhond, selfish, frivolous, and aim
use and meaning of our live. Which
should cast stone at tlc other lie
raised my hand TO his lips, and turned
sorrowtully into the house, l"tvu@ hlm
to hs own reflections.
1t was late the next morning when
opened my eyes after Il heavy and umrc-
irc>hing slumbrr. 4 maid stood at the
bedside with Il letter. A. tore it open
trlegram fell out, directed to Philip
Oh the back Of it lac had written, This
will explain my haaty Departure The
tclcYram contained these words "lOur
mother is dangerously i'll, come at once
a few hours later Cleopatra too took
her departure. We shook hand, a4
courteou>ly before the assembled house
hold, and she made her adieuA with as
assured Il gracc, rs if her visit had been
one of unmiNed satsfaction--aS possibly
it lad been To her. For the next few
days the accounts of my aunt's increased
Hines, were So alarming that my gueSts,
with Il consideration | could not too
highly appreciate, relieved me Of their
presence. Indeed, it WAS with the ut
most effort that could discharge my
social duties respectfully, and could not
but feel a little wholesome solitude as
relief after the prolonged and subdued
eNcltcmcntS OF the past weeks. | wan
dercd about, allowinL my thoughts to
drift as they would, hopin" they might
settle down into order and reason AMI
then becoming 50 trcl OF the mUnotony
that | would spend hours at the Piano
striving 10 drown all thought in sound !
a wcarisomc disgust of self took posses
sion of me, a fruitles; moan over my
wrctchcd past. How should take up
life again with tho old Illusions destroy
ed, the old props knocked away To
empty the heart Of idols Is all very well |
but the heart cannot remain empty |.
healthiully, neither must it feed upon it I.
self and between srlt-accuSations. in .
definite yearnings, miserable questioning-
of fate and Providence, and fruitlc-S ct- /
forts after Scli-cuntrol, | GOT day by day .
deeper and deeper into the Slough of
Dtspond. If the charitable world in |
which | lived had possessed any knowl- |
edge of our recent endorsement, how !
easily, naturally, nay, reasonably would
it have smiled Il commiscrating smile |
and whispered, disappointed in love,
poor thing!" Yes, l was disappointed,
but not in any such 'way; but began
10 hate everything bright, even the sun
shine, and t" cry very bitterly, My lit
tie body is awcary of this great world. b."
| received frequent accounts from my
cousin Alice, Philips sister, Of my aunrs
illncss-irom Philip himself never a
word and from the allusions IN her let
tiers Judged her TO he still in ignorance
oi our interrupted relations. 1t was Of
course no time for Tie discussion of such
affairs. The fever had run its long and
wearisome course i'll my aunts case, and
1T last there was hope Of Il favorable
change. The same letter which brought
these good tidings mentioned that Philip
was worn out with watching, and not
quite well. 81 scarcely think he will be
able to write to you to-day" concluded
Alice, evidently imagining me to he in
daily receipt of letters from him. In a
few days she wrote again: I'VE are
terribly alarmed about Philip; hc has
taken the fever"
Thus for a week daily came gloomy
tidings Once Alice said Il asked
Philip for message to send you, and he
would not answer. know you would
not he afraid OF infection, and if it will
comfort you 10 be near him, do come To
us"
| left this unanswered | could not
make up my mind to add to their sad
ness by telling the truth. My marriage
with Philip had been one OF ihcir dearest
wishes.
Again Alice wrote: "Why ito you
neither write nor come lie raves all
day and night, sometimes about you, and
accusing himself of all sorts
of horrors. What docs it all mean
Has there been any trouble - Again
could not answer. walked The floor
night after night, praying in my wretch
edness for the cousin loved and yearncd
over in his extremity like a mother with