The Pulaski citizen. [volume] (Pulaski, Tenn.) 1866-current, 1873-12-25
A LITTLE CLUB APFAIR-

with supple, leonine motion peculiar
to her, and football of velvet, turning
her black eyes restlessly, and whirling
about if the air stirred in the passage /;
thus she had moved for hours.
Was she a heroine in distress? Was
she woman of gifts, evolving some
creation from her sleepless brain? I
am sorry to bring her down to Garth
she was a fit subject for romance. But
it must be confessed Isabel was only
waiting for her husband, who was out
late. Had she been sensible, practi-
cal woman, she had wrapped the drape-
ry for her couch round her and laid
down to sweet dreams long ago. But
she has only been a wife a year. Her
husband was her single tie; she lived
her life in him.
Isabel was beautiful. Her flesh was
like marble lighted by fire; her hands,
her eyes, her lips, the poise of her
head, her undulating motion, had an
elegance of their own. But when God
lent her the gift of loveliness, He ad-
ded thereto the gift of supersensitive-
ness, through which so many are graded
to melancholy and madness. She had
been the ward of bachelor uncle, who
felt he did his whole duty if he visited
her twice year at her convent, and an
swered her sorrowfuI black eyes with
mods and winlEs of approval. When she
was ready to enter tho world, the charge
of young lady niece so taxed his free
dom, and, by consequence, his spirits,
that he laid him down and died. He
hadn't meddled in matrimoDy. Why
should his autumnal youth be spoiled
by a foster daughter The problem
shovelled him into the grave.
Then Burnham appeared 20 Isabel.
His family and hers had been on friend
ly terms whole generations. He had
just returned from long tour, and had
the air of other continents around him,
which fascinated her senses. After
wards his best grew upon her his gen.
erous nature, his pure intention, his
mellow thought, the whole fine struc-
ture of his manhood. She knew little
of the worl she made him her
standard. So that when Burnham came
wooing and made her sure that all his
happiness was in her, she staked her
self, and was blessed in proportion to
her intense sensibility.
When Isabel became a wife, she did
not degrade her hero. Her very esti-
mate kept him up to her. Proud and
tender of her, he walked to rectitude,
and softly, before her, many moons and
never meant to deviate.
But
(The chapter recording Solomon's fall
begins with blt.)
But Burnham was a society man; he
had such jovinl friends, who formed
such a iovial and select club. The
"Pickwick Club" run over with money
and leisure and graceful gayety. To be
" Pickwickian, was TO be recognized
as a tip-top globule of the city cream.
Youngsters of family looked forward to
rising into this club much as the young
Roman anticipated the toga of man
hood. II welded an absurdly strong
influence. The Pickwickians" met ih
elegant apartments, drank imported
wine, attended by perfect and silent
service, and rallied at the hard-worked,
sad-visaged world. Young husbands
were considered great conquests among
them, and they importuned Burnham
so much to join them that he good
naturedly took to running in" From
taking friendly cigar and glass, he
went on to extending his stays till the
fascination of the club ran through his
veins.
Isabel knew nothing Of clubs. She
supposed they might be assemblages of
gentlemen with something'of literary
character, such as Addison pictures.
She saw in her minds eye sober citizens
grouped about tables, reading, perhaps
smoking, and discussing wisdom. She
waited for her husband because she was
restless when he was away, not because
she had any righteous tongue in pickle
for him.
Feet shuffled in the hall. She bent
her neck her whole body crouched to
listen. They drew nearer, zig-zagging; I;
they paused at her door; and the being
outside, evidently an animal without
hands, began to rub and tumble and
growl for entrance
Isabel threw the door open, when a
person in a very bad hat, with his whole
apparel somewhat on one side, fell at
her feet. 1t was stage scene, but
terribly real with one actor. Isabel
started back, raising and wringing her
hands, and staring at her husband like
maniac. Mr.. BurnEam gathered him
self up aud took observations. Some
drunken men are abusive others maud
lin; others jelly. But Burnham was
Pompous. He found a sofa, and mount
ed it tremulously to harangue his wife
on her duty as "genl'men to e'nduct
self like genl' 'men-drivedul dulleare'wayl"
and made as consummate and disgust
ing a fool of himself as it is possible
for a mans body to do when that fine
spirit which governs is drown~d.
Isabel stood Watching without moving
muscle. The stare drew his attention,
and he requested leave to ask if she was
drunk, and if she meant to '' suit him. -
Then overwrought by his own elo-
quenoe, he relaxed and dropped along
the sofa. She saw face swollen and
sensual frame nerveless and heavy .
man turned to beast.
Her maid tapped at an inner door to
ask if Mrs. Burnham wanted her now.
GO TO my dressing-room, 4" replied
Isabel, towering between the damsel's
eyes and that locomotive-laboring-up-a-
steep-grade upon the sofa. "Wait for
me there"
She closed the door and went back.
Not being addicted to harangues and
handkerchiefs, she merely clasped her
hands aud looked at him, thinking,
suppose, that no woe like hers had ever
come upon the world since the deluge,