Clarksville weekly chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1873-1890, 1873-07-12
SACRIFICE REWARDED.

SACRIFICE REWARDED.
Twill never wed him, papa, | tell
you, plainly; [ do not love him, and
well you know that | am already a
plighted BRIDE
Violetta, my child, cease this rash
talk, and listen. / am on the brink of
failure, nay more, of disgrace, for
when my affairs first became involved
forged the name Of Monsieur Victor
Verlais to checks for large amount,
hOpeing thereby to prop my tottering
business, and right the wrong | had
done, ere it was discovered. But loss
swiftly followed loss, / was unable to
repay my error, was discovered, and
to-day | stand before you a ruined
man, unless, mark me, Violetta, un-
less you marry Victor Verlais; for
only on condition of receiving your
hand will he spare or aid me, and now
what is your deeision?"
20 father, is there no way of escape
for you? Must l see you condemned
to a felon's cell, or wed this odious
monsiuer
Alas, yes, my child, you, and you
alone, can save me now"
Then 10 God pity me, let me
die; father" and she forced herself to
speak calmly, l cannot decide now !;
give me until tonight, and then you
shall have my answer"
Certainly, Violetta. O, my child,
my childI' and the mans voice quiv-
cred with mighty emotion, that /
should bring such misery to thee p
And father and child were for mo-
ment locked in a close embrace, and
then Violetta tore herself away, and
sobbing, rather than saying, Tonight
father, you shall have my answer"
hastened from the room. But, her
own room gained, she wrung her hands
in voiceless agony, and rushed to
and fro like some hunted animal. At
last she murmured, 80 Edgar, Edgar,
how can give you up? And yet it
must be done; my duty is plain, must
wed this hated Victor Verlais to save
my father; and yet-oh! would l
might die! Would l might die p she
walled. .a
For hours griefreigned uncontrolled,
and then the violence of emotion gave
place to the clmness of despair, and
seating herS before her escritoire,
she sighed.
And now to say farewell to Edgar.
Oh! God grant that he may outlive our
brief, yet sweet, love-dream, and be
happy" With trembling hand she
wrote =
=" Edgar:-Alas l dare not call you
mine, that were now too sweet privil-
ege for poor unhappy me know then,
Edgar, that we must part, for reasons
which [ cannot disclose, even to you, [
must wed Monsieur Verlais. Seek not
to see me, or alter my determination,
for it is unchangeable, and l write but
to give you back your sighted troth,
and to say farewell forever. Enclosed
you will find the ring you gave me,
and oh my love, when you gaze on it
think not with anger but pity of your
unhappy VIoLETTA."
Kissing the little tear-stained note
fondly, (for was it not going to him?)
she placed it in her bosom, and sought
her father; pale was her face, as if of
chiselled marble, but in a low, firm
voice she said.
Father, l will wed Monsieur Yer
lais."
God bless you, my child, was all
he said as he pressed her to his heart.
Paler still was Violetta's cheek,
when Victor Verlais pressed his first
love-kiss upon it but in the glow of
triumph at winning his fair English
flower, he needed it not, and, even if
he had marked it, he knew not of the
broken love-dream, and so would
scarce have guessed its cause. He
pleaded for an early marriage day, and
Violetta, to whom all things were now
unimportant, replied dreamily, :" As
you please, monsieur, it matters not to
mfe, and though he marvelled at her
indifference he attributed it to the nat
tural reserve of her colder cline, and
set day two weeks later as the one
which was to seal her doom, and as he
supposed his happiness.
1t came, beautiful spring morning,
and in Notre Dame the ill-mated pair
were welded, ne with his bald head,
his fifty years, and his money bags,
she, with her youth and beauty offered
up like lamb on the alter of Nam
mon. SnOwier than the pearly lustre
of her robe was her marble brow, and
at the marriage tete all spoke of her
pale loveliness, but few, if any, guessed
Its cause, and with a proud smile the
bridegroom led his bride to the carri-
age which was to convey them on the
first stage of their bridal journey. A
crack of the whip-a rumbling of
wheels, and they were gone; but hard
ly had the bridal guests departed, ere
another equipage drew up before the
door, and from it sprang young man,
dirty and travel-stained, but hand
some withal, and bearing the true i'm
press of gentleman. He ran up the
steps, and pulled the bell violently,
and the door swung wide, opened by
the brides father himself, who had
not yet quilted his parlors, and thought
it was one Of the wedding guests re-
turned for some forgotten article; but
when he saw who stood without, he
started back with upraised hands, as
if to ward him off; but the visitor
pushed his way in, and then, noticing
for the first time the evidence of mer-
ry-making, he turned upon his com
panion, demanding imperiously'-
Where is she, where is Violetta,
my betrothed bride ?"
My friend, II regret to say"
stammered the old man, his face gastly
pale, and evidently dreading the wrath
of the young Englishman, circum-
stances beyond our control rendered
my daughter marriage with Monsieur
Verlais imperative, and this very day
they were welded, and started on their
bridal tour scarce an hour ago; indeed
my friend" he continued, as the young
man staggered against the wall with a
deep groan, feel for you, and had
it been in my power, | would have or
dered matters very differently; but it
could not be helped; and what is done
cannot be undone."
The visitor, Edgar Thompson, fash
ed a glance of contempt on the speak
err: he OWNED that Violetta had been
sacrificed for the father, for he knew
that no other power than parental
duty could have wrestled her from him;
and so supreme was his disdain for the
man who would accept such sacrifice,
that he only muttered, fereely. ST.
lence p as he strobe from the hail.
But a deadly fear was upon the old
man. and springing after Edgar, he
caught him by the arm, gasping.-
Nay, my friend, what would you
do? Where would you go?