Whig and tribune. [volume] (Jackson, Tenn.) 1870-1877, 1873-12-20

: India had caused Mr.. Radnor to un
dertale n voyage there soon after tho
birth Of Elise. The vessel was wreck
ell, and all souls were supposed tC
have perished.
Alasl it was somewhat the same
; story that has since been given to the
world by the poet Tennyson, in tho
poem of 'sEnOch Arden" Mr.. RadRol
/ and few more of the passengers es
/, capped on a raft 10 an uninhabited
! island Months elapsed before they
we're rescued from 1t; and more
months yet before they were landed in
China, to which country the rescuing
ship was bound, aud before Mr.. Rad
nor could communicate with home.
Some subtle instinct of Ill, of dread.
lay upon him; and he returned home
without the delay OF a day, neglect
ing his business in India, neglccting
all. When he reached home aud
, stood before his wife, he found she
, had been for four months the wife of
her cousin. The shock was greater
than she could bear. 1t acted upon a
mind never very well balanced; an at
tack Of brain fever came on, and it
left her hopelessly insane.
Mr.. Radnor gave up business and
buried himself at LeahOld His visits
twice a year had been to the asylum
that contained his poor raving wife.
The cousin was dead.
my darling" ho said to Elise, Il
woul6haye spared You all these de-
tails, but that you would inevitably
learn them when you go ont into the
world, and you cannot be kept i'll this
secluded spot forever. Circumstances
have hurried the explanation. The
poor blighted life is drawing to close;
and as your mothers strength fails
her, reason IS returning. ! have had
letter from the resident doctor this
morning, he says that few days must
see the ending, and her one haunting
desire, her sole cry is that she may
see you, her child. We must go to
her, Elise"
"Yes, papa, we must go to her."
was the echoing answer. But it came
in dull, dry, hard voice, as if the
strange story were pressing too heav-
lily on the heart and brain. Another
moment and the girl had burst into a
storm of hysterical, irrepressible
tears.
They started on their journey. No
need to tell of the painful interview
of the poor woman, then dying. Elise
saw her own face reflected in the one,
worn aud wasted by disease, lying on
its snowy pillow.
They waited for the funeral, taking
up their abode in a neighbOring hO-
tel; and on the following day prepar-
| cd to return to LeahOld. No one
/ knew what this had been to Elise, or
how passionately she felt the wrong,
unconscious though it had been, dealt
out to her father by his wife. The
unthinking love of her childhood was
increased a hundred fold. 1t was her
mother who had crushed his noble
/ heart, and she resolved that all the de-
vOtion of her life should be given to
atone for it.
All being ready for their departure,
they were in the hall of the hotel,
waiting while the luggage was placed
on the carriage that would convey
them to the station, when, to the eX
treme surprise of Elise, she saw her
father, for tho first time i'll her recOl-
lection, greet a friend. A gentleman
had entered, and two names were call
ed out upon impulse.
Godfrey Huntingdon -
Thomas RadnOr!"
lLllot lDOhttl u W nNC - AFiNS IL blNl
as her fathers, lighted by the warm
sun of a glad recognition.
Dear old fellow, how are yOu?"
! like n boys tones the atlectiOnate
| greeting. ''We are fated to meet on
! turned home, and, 10! l meet YOU.
Last time il was in Paris-how many
years ago?-after your compulsory
trip to China. How is Mrs. Radnor
and the wonderful baby?"
Il have recently lost my wife, the
quiet answer, "but, and sweet smile
/ lowered round the fathers lips, "the
/ wonderful baby is here. Elise, this
is my dear, old friend, Col. Hunting
don; my only child, Godfrey"
Elise raised her Grape veil, to meet
the kindly look of eyes blue as her
own fathers, and full of loving in
| tcrcst.
''Whcrc are YOU bound now?" was
the next query of the old soldier.
'IIomc to Lcaholdl My place in
! the country. You will come with us,
Godfrey. 1t is very quiet and dull;
| but Caroline is there, and we will try
and make it pleasant to you. Poor
| Caroline has been widow as -"
! As long as have, he ewas about to say,
/ but cut short the words.
81 should like it of all things! But
Icon is with me"
Leon !"
''AIy brothers only son. You re-
mcmbor what Charley was, RadnOr!
Well, this boy's the same. A genius
like his father. dreamy, impulsive, full
of talent and fire, and with as much
common sense rs would rattle IN a
mustard-sccd. 1 have had to take
him; he'd do no good in the world
without me. Sings little, paints a
little, writes well in certain style,
and will some day inherit my modest
income. He is with me here"
"And will come with us, of course" s"
said Mr.. Radnor. clio shall have no
complaint to make of his welcome"
'sThe carriage is ready, SIR" inter
posed the waiter. ''There's not too
much time to get to the station"
'.Never mind; we'll take the next
train" replied Mr.. Radnor, uncon-
scious that in that one sentence he
sealed his own death-warrant.
They went back to their sitting
room, and Leon Huntingdon Joined
them. The two old men were soon
, deep in the discussion of by-gone
memories, leaving the young people to
, look at each other.
r Leon Huntingdon was one of those
) remarkably gOod-lOoking men rarely
seen. \ tall and gentlcmauly figure,
5 with a cassically beautiful face and
, attractive manners left nothing TO be
3 desired oatwardly. But he was a sell
, fish, vain man, not, indeed, possess
5 ing active vices, but very fond of his
I OWE qualification and self-impOrtance.
| With talents of high order, he had
5 suffered them tOlie dormant, and was
: drifting down lifes current a useless
member of society. Col. Huntingdon
. saw no fault in him; and Leon de
/ pended upon inheriUing his uncle's
/ small fortune, and left the future tC
: take care of itself. He was about
: fiye-and-twcnty now, and might al
: ready have made name in the wOrlt
I had he chosen to do 1t But he haC
f amused himself instead, living al
T idle life, travelling over Europe anC
l.. to the East. just now he had come
! back from an expedition to the Nile
5 With the poets love of the beautiful
It he lacked the poets stimulus to write
\ with an artists eye, he wanted thu
g artists perseverance,; with the soul o
a musician, he was content to skin
over the practice of the musician
IS art. And this man was studying
y Elise with n lazy appreciation of he
:, beauty, pale and sad as the yOun
face now looked. Mr.. Leon Hunting
+, don was not quite heart-whole. Tn
u silvery laugh of a gay cOquette,
il pretty, fascinating girl, who ha
&c made one of the party on this Nil
e. expedition, yet rang i'll his ear;