Litchfield enquirer., 1872-04-18

Woodley, 8 wealthy yeo.nan, prosperously settled upon his paternal acres, winch ha cultivated with great diligence and sue cess The issue of this marriage a very happy one, was informed was Mary Woodley, th5 plaintiT in the present ac tion. Mir. Woodley, who had now been dead something more than two years, be- queathed the whole of his property, real and personal, to his wife, in full conf- dence, as he expressed himself but few l hours before he expired, that she would amply provide for his and her child. The value of the property inherited by Mrs. Woodley under this will amounted, ae- cording to valuation made few weeks 1 after the testator's decease, to between eight and nine thousand pounds.
 Respected as a widow, comfortable in circumstances, and with a daughter to en- gage her affections, Mrs. Woodley might have passed the remainder of her exist ence iii happiness. But how frequently do women peril and lose all by second marriage! Such was the case with Mrs. Woodley; to the astonishment of every body, she threw herself away on 2 man al- most unknown Tn the district-a person | of no fortune, of mean habits, and alto gether unworthy of acceptance as hus- band. Silas Thorndyke, to whom she had committed her happiness, had for short 1 time acted as hailif on the farm; and no sooner did he feel himself master, than his subserviency was changed to selfish indifference, and that gradually assumed 1 8 coarseE character. He discovered that the property, by the will of Mir. Woodley, was so secured against every chance or casualty to the use and enjoyment of his
 wife, that it not only did not pass by mar riage to the new bridegroom, but she was unable to aienate or divest herself of any portion of it during life. She could, how 1 ever dispose of it by will; but in the event of her dying intestate, the whole descend- l Ad se her daugnter, Mary Woodley.
 Incredibly savage was Thorndyke when he made that discovery; and bitter and incessant were the indignities to which he subjected his unfortunate wife, for the avowed purpose of forcing her to make will in his favor, and of course disinherit- ing her daughter. These prosecutions failed of their object An unexpected, quiet, passive, but unconquerable resist ance, was opposed by the, in all other this demand of her domineering husband Her failing health-for gently nurtured and tenderly cherished as she had ever been, the callous brutality of her husband soon told upon the unhappy creature warned her that Mary would soon be an orphan, and that upon her firmness it de- pended whether the child of him to whose memory she had been, so fatally for her. self, unfaithful, should be cast homeless and penniless upon the world, or inherit the wealth to which, by every principle of right and equity, she was entitled. Come what may, this trust at least should not she mentally resolved, be betrayed or pal tered with. Every imaginable expedient to vanquish her resolution was resorted to. Thorndyke picked a quarrel with Ward her father, who had lived at Dale Farm since the morrow of her marriage with Woodley, and the old gentleman was com pelled to leave, and take up his abode with distant and somewhat needy rela- tive. Next Edward Milford, the only son of neighboring and prosperous farmer, who had been betrothed to Mary Wood Icy several .,aonths before hes fatl.ar'sz death, was brutally insulted, and forbid den the house. All, however, failed to shake the mothers resolution; and at length, finding all his efforts fruitless, Thorndyke appeared to yield the point, and upon this subject at least ceased to harass his unfortunate victim.
 Frequent private conferences were now held between Thorndyke, his two daugh- ters, and Elizabeth Wareing-a woman approaching middle-age. whom, under the spacious pretenee that Mrs. Thorndyke's increasing ailments rendered the services of an experienced matron indispensable, he had lately installed at the farm. It was quite evident to mother and daughter that 8 much greater degree of intimacy subsisted between the master and house. keeper than their relative positions war ranted; and from some expressions heed lessly dropped by the woman, they sus- pected them to have been once on terms of confidential intimacy. Thorndyke, I should have mentioned, wos not a native of these parts; he had answered MT. Woodley's advertisement for bailif, and his testimonials appearing satisfactory, he had been somewhat precipitately engaged: A young man, calling himself Edward Wareing, the son of Elizabeth Wareing, and said to be engaged in an attorneys office in Liverpool, was also not unfre- quent visitor at Dale Farm; and once he had the insolent presumption to address note to Mary Woodley, formerly tender ing his hand and fortune This, however, did not suit Mir. Thorndyke's views, and MT. Edward Wareing was very effectually rebuked and silenced by his proposed father-in-law.
 Mrs. Thorndyke's health rapidly de- clined. The woman Wareing, touched possibly by sympathy or remorse, exhib- tied considerable tenderness and compas- sion towards the invalid; made her nour- ishing drinks, and administered the med icine prescribed by the village practition- er-who, after much delay and pooh poohing by Thomdyke, had been called in with her own hands. Abont three weeks previous to Mrs. Thorndyke's death 8 sort of reconciliation was patched up through her instrumentality between the husband and wife; and an nnwonted ex- precision of kindness and compassion, real or simulated, sat upon Thorndyke's fea- lures every time he approached the dying woman.
 The sands of life ebhed swiftly with Mrs. Thorndyke. Infolded in the gentle but deadly embrace with which consump- ton seizes it's victims, she wasted rapidly away; and, most perplexing symptoms of all, violent retchings and nausea, espec- ially after taking her medicine-which, according to Davis the village surgeon, was invariable of sedative character- aggravated and confirmed the fatal disease which was hurrying her to the tomb.
 Not once during this last illness could Mary Woodley, by chance or sratagem, ob- tain moments private interview with her mother, until few minutes before her decease. Until then, under one pretence or another, either Elizabeth Wareing, one of Thorndyke's daughters, or Thorndyke himself, was always present in the sick chamber. It was evening; darkness had for some time fallen; no light had yet been taken into the dying woman's apart ment; and the pale starlight which faintly Ilumined the room served, as Mary the bedside of her, as she supposed. sleep ing parent, but to deepen by defining the shadows thrown by the full, heavy hang ings, and the old massive furniture. Gently, and with a, beating heart, Mary Woodley drew back the bed