Rutland weekly herald. [volume] (Rutland, Vt.) 1859-1877, 1872-07-11

| ilS 1TOnl tHe prOIuSlOn IN winch Iley
grew.
The whole prospect was delightfully."-
rural and picturesque, and over all lin.
gered an influence of dreamy quietudt
and repose.
A narrow footpath, crooked as foot.
paths always are, wound along through
the lawn, beneath the shadows of a ri.
ant walnut, and by this | approached,
entered the little gate, and assembled the
gravelled walk, bordered by beds OF
flowers, to the door. 1t was open, and
| went in.
Alone-a serene and peaceful hush
rested within. The balmY wind nestled
in the wreaths of snowy drapery hang
ing at the window, where great white
and red roses bowed their graceful heads,
and the warm, rich sunlight came in,
ana lay in bright bars of radiance upon
the floor.
Not quite alone, either-a cradle was
there and it required no cOnjuring to
tell that the cradle had an inmate-a
self-dignified, thoughtful, imperturbable
little baby, whose quiet calmness could
not quite understand. 1t was wide
awake, and its great blue eyes were star
ing with infant persistence at something,
[ couldn't tell what; then they turned
| upon me, and | returned the gaze But
it made no difference the baby had not
a foul or evil thought to hide; it was
| not conscious of a sin in word or deed {;
hence there came no blush to that del
icately rounded check; no falling TO
that calm quiet eye, limpid as lake in
| summer, serene as the heaven in June.
There was a rustic and flutter of mus
IL. L ls.-f.N
the glimpse Of a fairy form. and Mrs
Winslow stood before me. She was not
very beautiful, but sparkling and viva
cious, with glow of health on her
| cheek and its light in her eve.
The baby had reused up now, To be
sure no more of its thoughtful serenity.
Its little form fairly fiuttered with joy;
| it laughed, clapping its dimpled hands.
you've come to stay all day with
me, haven't you? and baby had such
good company Whil9 mamma was gone,
/ hadn't il = she said in light, chirrupy
way that set off the little fellow with
renewed delight, Her invitation had
only seconded my design, so removing
my bonnet and mantilla, while she sat
down on the rocker and took the baby.
we prepared to enjoy the day and each
/ Otnef society.
| can't tell what we talked about. No;
| it wasn't of balls, nor operas, nor lions,
| nor sights. No; not a neighbOT's char
actcr was dissected. No; the inhrmities
| of the clergyman were not shown up.
| No; not mOrsel of private scandal
was cut or carved. But the time flew
| swiftly and pleasantly after dinner and
when the great round sun was sinking
| behind trees that burned and glOwed in
| the rich, warm light. she came to where
| was sitting and without word laid a
| portrait in my lap. 1t was that of a
| nOble-lOOking man, with most expressive
| and faultless features,
! is it your husband y / asked
My husband as he was. she answer
| ed with a sigh. ''YOu have never seen
| him 2"
l replied in the negative
1T is almost time for him to be here,
she continued. You will stay with us
| this evening"
replied that should be happy to
form his acquaintance, and again looked
at his portrait.
''He doesn't look like that nOw," she
| answered, wiping away tear. ''Yet
he says, and blush Ovcrspread her
features. ''he says he shall ever have
cause to bless the fire by which he lost
his good looks, but which won him what
he estimated thousand times more val
liable"
.'What was it, asked, with an una
countable dullness of apprehension.
She pointed archly, and with n sweet
smile to her wedding ring.
DO tell me the story; | should be de-
lighted to hear it.
Again she smiled saying:
Il do not know that you will consider
it very interesting; however. several
reasons conspire to make me wish that
you should know all, and since you have
never heard, perhaps | may as well tell
you.
"Certainly, certainly"
"YOu see when Mr.. WinslOw first be-
can his attentions to me / wasn't at all
pleased. He was handsome, knew but
had set my mind very foOlshly, / sup
pose, on having a rich husband, and one
that could keep me above the necessity
of work. So | slighted and repulsed
him upon all.occasiOns, making him feel
not merely Indifference, but actual
loathing and scorn. Such treatment one
might have supposed would have quick
ly obiterated his passion; on the con-
trary, however, it seemed only to in
crease.
"Abou this time / formed the ac-
quaintance of a city gentleman, whom
rumor reported immensely rich, and
whose intense selfishness was veiled be
meath a manner of the utmost sauvity
His attentions to me were marked, and
not to be mistaken-and though he had
not spoken of love, he acted it, and
believed him.
cat this time lived with my mother,
in our beautiful cottage at North Bend;
the place was very gay, and social par
ties large and frequent | mingled in
them all, and Barton was my escort.
Sometimes | saw Winslow, but he sell
dom approached me, though his deep,
sad eyes seemed following me.
1T was October, / think, the atmos-
phere dry and cool, with night winds,
when as we were returning from party
late at night, / was surprised and shock
ed by the appearance in the distance of
a deep red light that seemed to climb the
sky and quench the very stars. A wild
and awful presentiment of approaching
evil at the same time crossed my mind.
''If that should be our house." al
most shrieked.
''Nonsense-it is much farther off, "
exclaimed Barton.
"But was not satisfied, and hurried
on, eagerly dragging him with me.
eve came nearer, nearer. My fears
were all too true. 1t was indeed our
beautiful home, wrapped in one broad
sheet of smoke and flame And forked
tongues were tapping the pillars, and
shooting from the windows, while at one
of the skylights stood my mother in her
night dress.
with one wild shrek, | called the |
attention of the crowd to her situation. |
Hundreds of people had by this time
collected, though chiefly, as it seemed, |
for the qualification of curiosity. Some
were running with ropes and ladders,
others shouting and giving orders, which |
no one seemed inclined to obey.