River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1873-10-21

u
knowing well how best to vile away a
woman's heart he won our Emmies
love. Aud we who loved her better
than we loved ourselves, gave her up,
although we knew that in the very act,
we tore down our LIES Joy with our
own hands. Well, her lover was OF
good birth, rich, of excellent reputa
tion, and as devoted TO Emmie as sh
was TO him. And for her sake, we
plucked our own, sweet English rose
from the parent stem, and Wolfstein
bore her off in triumph to his chateau
in the Black Forest The world called
hers brilliant parti but there
was no brilIiancy left for the mother
and me. Without her, house and hearts
were dark and chill. The events of our
days were her letters-at first they
we're all sunshine and full of her hus-
bands praises. After while we fancled
they dropped a little in their CHEEKY
tone, her husbands name was more
rarely mentioned, and at last he was
quite ignored. Time after time it was
arranged that she should come to us,
and time after time the visit was de-
layed on some paltry excuse. We had
not seen the face of our darling for u
year. We could bear the separation no
longer. We should go to her. When
so far as Berlin, my wife was seIzed
violently ILL., wrote to Wolfstein and
Emmie of our distress-no response
came to my cry for succor.
On the morning of the 2lst of Janu-
airy | bent over my wife to mOisten her
fevered lips with a little wine. Ed
ward, she said, taking my hand in
hers, Emmie was with me in the
night. Darling, you we e dreaming, I"
SAID soothingly. I" It was no dream,
husband; she stood where you stand
now. Her dress was of black velvet,
with lace about the throat and wrists.
She looked sad, and oh so cold, and
down one cheek there was 4 horrid
mark. Mother, she said, you have
no portrait, not even photograph, to
remind yen of poor Emmie. shall
send you one And before / could
speak, or lay my hands in hers, she
was gone"
From her rapid pulse knew fever
was working in her veins, and fearing
this WAS the raving of delirium, sooth
ed her as best / could. Just then a
servant entered the room she held
that in her hand we had cause to dread
IA telegram. tore it open, and as my
eye learned its contents, groan burst
rom my lips {" Emmie is dead" said
my wife, quietly. q" / knew it dear"
1t was even so.
This blow rapidly extinguished the
Pickering life OF the mother, and she,
too, quickly followed Emmie. After
this sad event, arranged to go to
Wolfsteins chateau. He had taken no
notice of my various letters, but | con-
cluded that, stunned by grief, the poor
fellow was unable to attend to his or
binary duties of life. In this fellowship
of sorrow, together we should mingle
our tears.
On my way to the railway station, |
encountered Susan, Emmie's faithful
maid, who had been with her young
mistress before and since her marriage.
The girl was weary and worn with
fatigue, and her once bright English
face was white and scared. She
stretched her hands toward me. Z" Mr..
st. john Mr.. st. Jobn!" then she
fell down in swoom. | had her CON
veyed to my rooms, and after admins
terlng restoratives, she recovered and
in few terrible wsrds she told me OF
my child.
For two or three months after mar
rage all was sunshine, then the tickle
nature of the baron began to assert it.
self, and he became very devil of
causeless jealousy and malice Every
letter Emmie wrote was read before It
lett the chateau. She was debarred
from going into society-she was per,
mltted TO see no one save in the pres
ence of her husband, who watched her
as a tiger watches its prey. Then he
took to drinking and playing heavily
but she, hoping to win him back to
her, still compassed him round with
sweet observances, and by her gentle
goodness strove hard to exercise the
demon that possessed his heart. Bat
it was no use And then she told him
how one night Emmie's husband re-
turned from boar hunt, and she ran
to meet him in the hall, when he, in a
tit of drunken fury, before servants and
stranger guests, raised his ruling
switch and cut her across the face-the
cowardly hound, and from that hour
she never raised her head, but, under
the cruel indignity, she slowly dropped.
On the night she died she moaned
with pain that she should not see her
father or mother again, and they had
no picture even 20 remember her by
But they shall have one-they shall
nave one, and thus saying she died.
When the master of the chateau was
her dead. romorse burned into his
soul and drove him mad, and he was
now raving maniac. And Mt last
Susan escaped from the chateau TO tell
the secrets of his prison house. As MIR.
st. John rapidly sketched these tragic
outlines, great drops Of anguish stood
on his forehead, and when babe him
farewell, his hand was as cold as death.
In the din and confusion of this great
shouting world 1 lost sight of my
friend, and me years after our rem
contre i'm Berlin | was panied to read
an intimation of his death IN The
Times. Shortly after this melancholy
announcement. a letter from the solici
tors of the deceased Mr. st. John in-
formed mo that he had bequeathed
me a full -length portrait of his only