The Pulaski citizen. [volume] (Pulaski, Tenn.) 1866-current, 1874-05-21
A TRUE WIFE.

Upon the terrace of the principal ho-
tel at Whitecliff, two ladies sat in con-
versation, unheeding, because unaware
of, listener behind the closed blinds of
q window near them. Not an intention
al listener, for he was deeply absorbed
in the contents of a newly-arrived letter,
when the sound of his own name at
tracted his attention. One of the pretty
young matrons was speaking, and said
&c l can't imagine how such a spark
ling, brilliant woman as Mrs. Lancaster
ever came to marry that solemn piece of
granite, Edward Lancaster"
Solemn piece of granite One of
our most profound scollars, Edith A
thorough gentleman, too, and very
wealthy"
4" Wealthy" repeated the first speak
er. ''I suppose that accounts for it.
She married him for his money, of
course.
"And spends it royalty. I can't i'm
| agine Edith Lancaster without the sur
roundings of money. Her dresses, her
jewels, her carriages, seem a very part
of her,"
"But she would be beautiful in a
print dress and straw hat"
Here she comes nov, in her new
yachting dress. Is she not lovely?"
The dark eyes behind the closed
/ blinds followed the same direction as
those of the two ladies. Coming toward
the hotel was a merry party, who had
! been on the water for several hours, and
prominent in a group of pretty women
was a tall, slender brunette, in jaunty
dress of blue cashmere with gilt but
| tons. and broad hat, from underneath
which could be seen a face of exquisite
| beauty. The perfect oval of shape, the
clear, olive complexion and crimson
cheeks, the regular features and dark
eyes, were all in an oriental style; while
the masses of purple-black hair needed
no artificial additions to wreath the
small, shapely head with heavy braids.
She was chatting merrily and laugh
ing as she talked, as if youth and hap
piness were personified IN her beautiful
face.
The man who watched her from the
closed blinds was tall, broad-shouldered
and strong His hair, thick
and curling, was iron gray, and piled
high above a massive forehead +; his
eyes were deep set, but very large and
full of earnest expression. Not hand
some man, but one whose air of distinc-
tion was undoubted-a man who
would be noticed in any assemblage of
men.
AS he watched the radiant figure in
the sunlight coming toward him, the
shadow upon his brow grew deeper
every moment, till, with a groan, he
rose and went to his own rom, closing
the door behind him.
There was little resemblance to gran
ite in his face, as he paced mp and down
this room. It worked convulsively, and
the emotions that In a woman would
have been vented in passionate tears
found expression only in an occasional
sigh that was a grOan.
He was living over the last three years !
of his life, as he walked up and down. !
Until that time he had been scholar
only. With large wealth, inherited |
from his father, he had devoted himself |
to the acquisition of knowledge, living |
in his library, except when he travelled, |
always in pursuit of some new light |
upon a favorite science or study. His |
money matters were arranged by his |
lawyer, and his household affairs by a |
hOuseKeeper, while his books were his |
world.
From this scholarly seclusioD, at the |
age of forty-ive he was awakened by a |
call of friendship, being summoned by |
an old schoolmate who besought him to /
become guardian of very modest for !
tune he was about to leave to his only /
child. Obeying this summons, Edward /
Lancaster found his friend already dead, |
and the orphan turning to him for con- |
ISOLATION. He took her home, gave her /
to Mrs. Keene, his hOusekeeper, as he |
would have done with baby, for care |
and comfort, and retired again to his |
study.
Between his eyes aud the pages of his |
book came ever the faco of the orphan /
girl. He found himself sitting idly be- |
fore his papers, listening for the sound /
of a musical voice in the passage or |
garden. He neglected his stndies, to |
count the hours between meals, when /
he met his ward at table. Never before |
had a Woman's face or voice WRkened /
even passing emotion in Edward Ian /
casters heart, and, interestOn aroused, /
love crept in and took root, deep, strong, !
lifelong. There was no possibility of /
driving away this love, once it was ad- /
mitted. Edward Lancaster knew that /
Edith must be won if he was ever to |
know happiness in life again. If he |
lost her, he would live, bury himself in |
his books once more but never again |
could the same peace he had known be |
found.
When he told the child (she was but
seventeen) he loved her, she nestled In
his arms, lifted her sweet face to his,
and promised to be his wife. He never
doubted her love, strange as it seemed,
and they were married within six
months of Edith's arrival at her new
home.
Once she was his own, Edward Ian
caster made his wife perfect favorite of
fortune He left his favorite-beloved
library to escort her TO gay watering
places in summer, to balls and parties
in winter. He never counted the cost
of any indulgence she craved. Her
dress was of the costliest description
her jewels were the envy of her circle
of friends; and she had but to name 8
wish to have it gratihed. She was of
the sunniest temperament, child-like IN
her gratitude, and flirting from pleasure
to pleasure as a bird flies from fruit to
flowers.
Life had been very sweet to Edward
Lancaster in the three years following
his marriage, though many wondered,
seeing the grave, elderly man, how he
came to marry his child wife.
But as he paced his room in the Whit
cliff hotel, Edward Lancaster ques-
toned HE happiness as he had never
questioned it before. The letter he
held fast in his clenched hand, the con-
versation upon the porch, combined to
probe his heart to its core, and the
question hidden there rose to the sur
face.
Did Edith love him?
She had been always gay, tender, at
fectiOnate, deterring TO his wishes. more
like a child with an indulgent father
than wife for, as yet, but little wifely