The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1872-10-11

The rector shook his head sadly, and
replied: Il"'
"My child, where the vices of men
are confirmed, women can possess very
little influence over them. / know that
your sensitive heart shrinks back af-
frighted at the idea ofbeing drunkard' s
wife with your Ignorance of men, you
think thatlove can accomplish miracles
with them, and that the drunken lover
will prove sober husband. All! my
child, many poor, foolish woman has
wrecked her hopes of happiness on just
such a fallacy as this" -
The tears that had been slowly fall
ing from the girls eyes, now came
down in torrents. She laid her head on
the table beside her, and sobbed pas
sion ately. Her father was prepared to
see her grieve, but he did not anticipate
so wild storm of grief as this. lie
knew that his child loved, with all the
ardor of her all'ectionate nature, the
man who had sought her in marriage.
He was handsome, intelligent and
amiable; but one terrible failing over
shadowed these qualities he was
drunkard. He could plunge woman
into misery, but he could add nothing
to her happiness.
And while the girl wept, the rector of
Rivington sat with his sad eyes fixed
upon her. He knew that he could give
her no comfort; he might even seem,
in her eyes, like the cruel destroyer of
her peace but with the bitter remem-
brance of the past still gnawing at his
heart, he felt that he had stern duty
to perform, and, with the help of his
heavenly Father, perform it he would.
He waited until her passionate grief had
spent itself; then he approached her,
and parting aside her curls, kissed her
lovingly on her wet cheek. He drew
her to q chair near him, and said, with
deep emotion thrilling in his tones:
"My child, let me tell you the history
of mans life and woman's death,
aud then answer me, if do any wrong
in crying out from the very depths of
my heart, MY Father in heaven, save
my child, my precious child, from the
doom of the drunkard's wife,"
Alice Carington looked with wonder
ing eyes at her father; she had never
seen him so deeply moved, and there
was a tone of agonized pathos in his
voice that told of some hidden woe.
The rector of Rivington leaned back
in his armchair, and closed his eyes for
a moment, as if looking inwardly. His
face was pale, and it evidently cost him
q painful effort to unearth the sad story
that had been buried so long. AT length,
opening his eyes and fixing them on
the fire with that peculiar gaze which
we sometimes see in the eyes of those
who are exploring the dim recesses of
the past, the rector commenced, in low,
earnest tones, his story, while his
daughter fixed her mournful eyes on
her father as he thus spoke:
"Clarcnce Medway was the son of an
English gentleman, man of wealth,
culture and refinement. He gave his
children every advantage which money
could bestow,and his daughters and his
; sons, with one exception, grew up all
that themos loving parents could wish
But this one, this boy Clarence, was
wild, dissipated fellow, plunging into
shameful excesses, and wasting thepr
cious hours of youth in the haunts of
folly and the homes of crime. He gave
his parents many an anxious hour, as
such boys always do; fortunate, most
fortunate was it for them that they slept
the quiet sleep of the grave before this
boy, dshonored and degraded, brought
untold misery to the hearts that loved
him.
The rector's voice trembled with
emotion, but recovering himself, he
continued:
; "This boy, tenderly beloved by his
parents, and who had been so carefully
, reared, grew from bad to worse and
when he reached mans estate, he was a
onfirmed drunkard"
"There lived on the next place to
Midway Manor, lovely girl, named
Alice Richmond, whom Clarence Med
way loved. She was young, younger by
a year than you, my daughter, for she
t was only seventeen. She was sweet,
dove-like girl, gentle and loving, the
idol of her parents and friends,and rich
in every blessing that made life desira-
bic. There never had been sorrow on
her heart; and no minor note walled
through the songs that she sung. Oh,
that so fair life should have been SO
cruelty blasted, BLASTED, too, by the
a man to whom she had given the price
t less gift of her young affections.
I "Carence Midway sought her in
g marriage. lie hid from her his body
4 and soul destroying voice she knew
not that the man who breathed passion.
ate love VOWS in her ears. was an habi,
S tual drunkard. She had heard him
0 called Wild and in her glrllsh fond
s ness, her girlish ignorance, she thought
I she could tame him down, and make
s him quiet, sober, domestic husband
Her parents, however, knew that she
was about to peril her happiness, and
d eXpostulated with her, my daughter
even as have expostulated with you
e But she could not sec the great, black
@ frowning rock standing out in what
a seemed smiling; she knew moi
n how, on that rock, the rock of intem
If perance, her fairest hopes would sufi'e
d cruel shipwreck. While the parents
IL were eXpostulating, the lover was urg
D, ing, and, one stormy night, Alice Rich
mond, taking her destiny in her owl
hands, stole forth from her happy hom
and married Clarence Medway."
t, The rector of Rivington arose iron
t. his seat and hastily paced the floor. III
stopped in front of his daughther, VIII
was watched him with sad, anXiou
N gaze, and said,
r WThero arc sOme memo OrleS which 81