Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1873-03-13
gu 0riginal Sturg.
Written for the Yorkville Enquirer.
FLORIMOND;
DIVORCE OR No DIVORCE.
BY MRS. CLARK WARING.
CHAPTER w.
AN EVENT.


The bowling tones ofsavage Winters angry
voice no longer swept across the neighboring
fields; nor fingered in the marshy meadows
nor stormed amid the naked branches of the
Welding trees; nor sank deep into the mourn
full heart of the unhappy Florimond. The
snow-king was dethroned in the sunny South
In this soft and favored cline, the blithesome
world was clad already in the garniture of
thousand flowers and the atmosphere musical
with the songs of thousand birds. Full Of
newborn life and vivifying Joy, the earth re-
ceived, in sweet content, the abundant bless,
ings of 5ounteous Creator. In Mrs Sum
merville's garden the fountains are flowing,
whispering sweet prophecies of the golden
summer time to the waving verdure and fra
grant flowers. Some tiny wild blossoms
anemones and lowly violets-have crept in
from under the forest trees, to hear this deli
cious tale and quench their thirst in the trans
parent waters. 1t was during such happy
season, on soft April day, when ethereal
mildness dwelt in the spirit of the gentle
south wind, that the eyes of Florimond's in
nocent babe opened, for the first time, on the
scenes of this beauteous earth. 1t was tiny,
wee specimen of humanity, which, from the
first, seemed to have but feeble tenure of life.
But if the childs tenure was feeble, the poor
mother seemed on the verge of extinction.
For several weeks she only did not lose
breath-she barely kept it, with no power to
notice the precious gift which had come to
her; nor indeed having the consciousness to
feel single throb of ineAable motherhood
Life Of life love Of love. moan Of moan, >,
But there did come a day when this tortu-
ring suspense was at least abated, and life, for
tho: time, triumphed. The monster, Death,
knowing his hour would inevitably come,
could afford to wait! A day, we say, did
come when the light of reason once more
shone in Florimond's eyes, and she spoke in
conscious accents.
"Mother," was her first question, "where is
my little babe?"
Silently Mrs. Summerville placed the tiny
creature in her arms, and then turned away to
thank God, and to wipe away the torrent of
tears running down her withered cheeks. So
near together are joy and tears in this life!
The next question Florimond asked, with
her baby pressed close to her heart, was,
elias Albert Gomez" and Mrs. Summerville,
at that critical moment in her grand.child's Is
life, would rather have cut the tongue from
her mouth than to be compelled to reply, as
truth did compel her to reply
"No, Florimond, he has not come"
Florimond said not word, but a dark and
gloomy look took the place of that indescri-
bable expression, so full of joy and mysterious
light, which, a few moments before, had, as
with a halo of glory, illuminated her radiant,
expressive features.
Even after this there were days and nights
ofanxiety, when only unceasing watchfulness
and the tenderest care could keep alive the
glimmering spark of life Sometimes, when
witnessing this heart-rending struggle of the
immortal soul, imprisoned in this frail tene-
ment of clay, Mrs. Summervlle would think
it was source of regret that death did not at
once claim his prey and let this poor, tram
meled spirit, who had never found on earth a
perfect content-who was always cropping and
aspiring for the unattainable good-wing
its flight to those calm shores, unwashed by
earthly storms, where no harsh fate could
ever again mar its eternal peace and Sc
renity.
But in the bordering of Fate, or rather in the
ordering of that Providence who knows what is
best for us, there came another day when Flori-
mond was able to be lifted from her bed and
placed in an easy chair at the open window,
where she could divide her attention between
the sunshine without, and that tiny morsel of
humanity which reposed on her lap, and
which she never seemed satisfied to have for a
moment out of her sight. 1t was on this same
day, that Mrs. Summerville handed Flori-
mond letter from her husband. With that
same gloomy look on her face which Albert's
name always called up, and which poor Mrs.
Summerville was destined never to see re-
placed by different one, Florimond broke
the seal and read:
"Dearest, Dearest F2orimond Are you still liv-
ing and can you hear my agonized cry for forgiv-
ness? My God, Flormond, ifyou are dead, ere
will kill me! Forgive me-oh forgive-forgive
1t was that cruel letter which kept me away from
YOU. Oh! how could you write me such-such
maddening words ? But do not plead this in
e1, Il 1,nx,n tn
ANYHOW. Dear wife, if could bare my heart be-
fore you, you would see that it is filled with re-
morse-remorse for having sighted your tender
love; and because did not fly to you in spite of
all pride. You will think it strange, perhaps,
Florimond, that have been so long in writing,
since your grandmother wrote the summons to
come Instantly, if wished to see you alive. /
have lust received that letter. was away on leave
ofabsence again and again forgive me, Florry!)
And in the meantime the old camp was broken
up and the forces removed to a far distant place.
I received positive orders to rejoin my regiment.
found great difficulty in doing so; there was
such confusion. wandered about for some days
before found their exact whereabouts. Even
after did, the letter was not handed me for
whole week-and it the bearer of such dreadful
news. But there was constant skirmishng and
battles, and the cries of the wounded, and the
groans of the dying-so nobody thought about the
letter. My God i'll could only fly to you-could
only kneel at your bedside and implore you to
forgive me all! Alas! it is mpossible-momen-
tous events are imminent. May the Almighty
preserve your life to me; but living, or dying
my Florimond, forgive your poor husband.
"Anxiously and fondly, A. G. d.
This letter showed evident haste-the wild
est commotion of mind and was even blotted
in some places, with stains of tears. Enough
to touch heart Of adamant one would think
and yet shall chronicle how this tender
hearted woman, who could not behold the suf
ferings of the meanest brute unmoved-shal