Huntington advertiser. [volume] (Huntington, W. Va.) 1874-1921, 1874-08-13
EXPECTATION.
OUT OF THE DEPTHS.

81 am not very communicative,
you know, Harvey, but somehow the
silence of the hour, and the long time
that has intervened since our last fare
well, when the Havre de Grace sailed
for Liverpool and took you away from
me and the pleasant hours we had
been having together, strangely i'm
pei me to all / have determined to
say. The years seem so far and long,
that can scarcely reach back and
gather them for your inspection. ]
have sometimes felt that if | had al-
ways had you with me, through those
weary ycals, | had not been the wreck
that you now see me. Since reason
has resumed the throne that Fashion
held. | can view my shortcomings
with courage and GOODNESS, and man
fully wish | had the years again, that
l might make them faircr and bright
er for retrospective vision, that COM
ing age might not be filed with this
useless and bitter regret You were
always transparent and honest, Har-
vey, that when you gave me your
confidence in words as you were wont
10 do, it was a needless thing, for |
had read your temptation, your love,
and your boyish evanescent despair
but there was q dread in my older na-
ture that impelled me to a constant
silence of the things that pcrtained to
my future well or ill-being. You
could see the clouds, but the tempest
and storm that followed, you never
guessed. No matter to whom | have
been trcachcrous and unkind, have
been true to ycu, and for this, at
least, l keep one spark of hope
When you were gone, and | had look
ed my last at your graceful figure as
the brave ship sailed away, there was
q moisture akin to tears in the eyes
that babe you a long goodbye. |
was very lonely when you were gone
from my life, and the ashes from your
last cigar, that were yet in the bronze
receiver, so gray, dead and still, soem-
ed to tell me of future things, that
life has but too surely known As
Byron did, over the ashes Of ShelleY's
heart, so did | utter o solemn invoca-
ton, and scatter them then and there
with careful hands. Perhaps my lips
quivcred a little as gathered togeth
er your favorite books, which You had
idly thrown about the room that We
had shared for full five years. You
were a boy when our barques drifted
together, and your boyhood grew up
OF you, and you were more q boy
when you waved me that last good
bye from the steamer deck. ] WAS
older than you by several years, but
not the years alone had made me aged
before my time. Ny father had act
ed unwiscly toward me; my tender,
loving mother had gone away to the
rest that the faithful knew in the
bright hereafter, and another reigned
in her place. | turned away from
my home with bitterness in my heat
a wanderer and IN outcast from my
fathers house. | never knew why,
for was undescrving Of fates prodi-
gal favor, but it was given me, new
ertheless, and the cosmopolitan pen,
that had 50 long lain idle, was en-
ployed for the earning Of my daily
bread. But have not settled my
accounts with God, for the use of
those talents so shamcfully employed,
and | fear q sincere and perfect re-
pentance may come too late to bring
me forgiveness. blasphemed Heav-
en-, scoffed at religion and its mcrci-
ful teachings, and Knocked at all holy
things, and won applause; but at
what bitter cost! | grew to believe
IN the unholy things had written
with no greater purpose than gold
winning, and my purse grew weight
ier; so did MY heart, once so light and
pure. But | was not willing for YOU
to know aught of what | had sent
abroad from my pen, as fell de-
stroyer into so many fields Of peace,
to steal like q serpent over the flow
crs, and leave its poisonous sting for
ever. You knew nothing more than
what ! chose to tell you in those days
about my love for Stella Knight, and
my condolences concerning that love
we're few and measre. | loved her
for her grand and glorious beauty,
that thrilled and swept my arid heart,
but more did | love her for the gen
tie, gracious air Of perfect woman
hood, that sat like 4 crown upon her
life. She was the Beatrice OF my ar
tistic dreams, the "pale, pure Marga-
ret" of my future hope. She had
plighted her troth to me, and | was
contented with the coloring that 1t
gave to my coming life. | was pas
sionately contented; and bad though
| was, and sinful and weak, her love
was above me always like living
prayer. l had given her, you re
member, the two rings she wore on
her snow white hand, the one q soli-
taire pearl of uncommon size and
beauty, and the other a gorgeous
black India diamond. How could
she guess the significance of the two
gifts but they were always emblem
attic to ME of her life and mine. At
last it came like a thunderbolt to her
IL al I'LL