Northern Ohio journal. [volume] (Painesville, Ohio) 1872-1896, 1874-02-21

every trace OF the only secret ever nau
| to keep from her had long since became
| dust and ashes under my CRATE.
Your correspondence is small, Only
| my letters and Alwyn's-mine the most
plentiful by far. Are these all that AL
wyn has written to you since his mar
| riage?'
sDo you want to read them, Mistress
Jealousy? p
No, thank you; have read them all
beforehand. He generally gives me his
letters to read. You don't mind that,
| sister. dear?' ...
My pet, mop s-
'Jealous'-she went on moralizing.-
| Charlotte, what a strange feeling that
jealousy must be! Did you ever know
what it WASP
"A little-Once.'
Inever did. OF course notP l could
Alwyn. And to be jealous of him, how
impossible-how very wicked it would
| be,'
| Don't you think SOP
| Certainly .
| Il can understand people being jeal-
Gus before they are married, or engaged,
but afterward! Why, such an idea
would never come into my head. How
could it, when once was sure, perfect
ly sure, that ALVIN loved me; that he
must have married me simply for love,
since there was nothing else in me he
could marry me for
Foolish girli' - 4NE s>$ -
No, 1 repeat--nothing.S I am net
handsome, or clever, or accomplished,
no more to compare with him than the
night with the day. Sometimes when
see what-other women are--the women
he daily meets with, without caring for
| any of them, / sit and marvel at my
blessedness-at the Infinite mercy OF
Heaven which made Alwyn love me-
/ Charlotte, do you remember the day
| fell in the snow? 81 OK
| Il do -E..se-. z.sr5 .5xgssg ~ .
/ sIthought-no, at the time I thought
4 nothing. 1t was as if somebody struck
me and stunned me. Something KEPT
| saying as lond as a trumpet, s AlWyn is
going-Alwyn does not care for you.-
| You had better die.' And verify think
l should have died. =
/ "And been buried in the church -porch, s
| And Alwyn buried in the qtlire; II
| And out of her bosom there sprang a red rose,
| And out of his bosom asbrier.o 5Es ~
/ quoted this. adding, sMarjory, are
you.nOt ashamed of such sentimentalitv
| You-a wife, aiid-you know! !! There
take your beloved's letters, which he
wrote me years before you married him
and which were a great deal more fool
ish and rhapsodical than any he evel
writes now. Quick, take them.'
And / gave them to her, with this
hand-'this accursed right hand,' as ole
Cranmer moaned. So could / also moan
Oh, would it had rather been consumed
i'm flames!
1 left her reading, and went about my
household business, entering and re-
10, for hn o1x
looked up with smiling or an admirins
comment, and once heard her laughing
heartily to herself at some quaint pas
sage. There was no fun like Alwyn's
fun, we both thought.
Ths last time came in, after little
longer absence from the room, my sister
did not turn round and smile. She was
| frightfully pale.
| What have you been doing, Marjory
child?' .s..s-s,ss:D
ooh, nothing. Only laughing toe
much, think. felt sick. 1 am better
now.'
L gave her a glass of water. Soor
she looked up in my face with smile
such soft, sad smile, like that of dy.
ing person.
"Thank you; you are very kind.
think you love me, Charlotte
Not bit of it; only on Alwyn's ae-
count; Shall | put by his letters? You
have read them.'
| sAll.'
'They are very beautiful lettersl'
| Very -
| 'Then having praised them as much as
duty requires, let us put them away and
talk of something else.
sOh, yes!'
She turned her chair round to the
window, and sat leaning out till it grew
dusk. Soon after I took her home as
usual. Passing the little bridge, she
clung to my arm for minute. I asked
her If anything was the matter.J Eas
1T turned me sick again-the water
How fast it runs-how fast it runs!'
I left her sitting at the supper table
with her grand parents. have in MEM
ory perfect picture of her there; white
asa statue-but then she was always pale
with her light hair partly dropping
down. just as she had taken her bonnet
off; her eyes looking straight forward
with a melancholy blankness in them
her thin hands folded over. each other
on the table cloth, one. finger tightly
pressing the wedding ring.
Oh, my sister-my poor Marjory!