The herald and mail. [volume] (Columbia, Tenn.) 1873-188?, 1875-11-05
NELLIE'S REPENTANCE.

bright golden hair from under its Httl
lace morning cap, and sent it rolling i
golden shimmering waves over he
shoulders.
There was a light in her blue eyes
which her husband had never before seel
there, and the fresh red lips which haC
always greeted him with smiles, wer,
parted over the white teeth with an ex
preston of unmistakable scorn.
at is cruel and exacting of you, Nor
man, when you know how much, how
very much like Mrs. May, and how
fond she is of me. 1t is selfish to ask me tC
give up the society of my best friend
just to crafty a capricious within OF
yours"
And Mrs. Wilde burst into tears.
1t was not in Norman Wilde's nature
to see a woman's tears unmoved. 1t is
scarcely that of any man, when the tears
are those of his own wife, and with one
so fOndly loved and tenderly cherished as
Nellie. His habitually grave and quiet
voice was full of trouble and tenderness
now, as he bent over her and said in tones
of gentle remonstrance, "Nellier'
Don't, NOrman!' was the pettish an
swer, as she turned away from the caress-
ing touch of his hand upon hersoft golden
hair. "I'm not child to be tyrannized
over one moment, and coaxed and petted
into a good humor the next"
Selfish, cruel, tyrannical! 1t was too
much
Mr.. Wilde took his hat with that indie
scribable air which injured husbands
know so well how to assume, and left the
room. With slow step he passed down
the stairs into the street
Was it wrong, he asked himself. for
him to win this bright young life to glad
den his quiet home, and diffuse the sun
shine of her buOyant spirits over his
gTaver maturer life? For though there
was difference of ten years in their re-
spective ages, many cares had made Nor
man Wilde older at tWenty-seven than
most men of thirty-fve. He thought of
At now with something like contempt for
himself. He might have known he could
never make her happy; he with a gravity
of demeanOr that was almost sternness;
and she, with her joyous, loving DISPOSE
ton, for Nellie was good tempered and
attectionate generally, in spite of her
willfulness.
Something weightier than the great
lawsuit of Hobart VS.. Long" pressed
upon the spirits of Mr.. Wildeas he walked
slowly down the street that bitter winter
morning; and his head clerk, Richards,
to whom an honest lawyer was a paradox,
and law a sublime mystery, thought, as
he watched him from the Office window,
that some new legal stratagem must have
taken possession of his brain, to make
him walk at that pace, when the Their
mometer stood twenty degrees below
zero.
" Ma'am," said Kate, putting her head
in at the door of Nellie's room, "Mrs |
Dion would like to see you directly, if |
its quite convenient"
" Very well, Kate"
And Nellie, after arranging her hair
and bathing her face, proceeded to her |
aunt's apartment.
" How do you feel this morning, |
auntie 2"
Very cheerful, very contented, my |
child" was the invalids reply, as she |
looked up into the innocent, girlish face |
that bent over her couch. 81 should be |
ungrateful indeed, it, after all the afec- |
tiOnate care lavished upon me by my |
nephew and his wife, l should be other |
wise"
Some shadows resting upon the usually |
happy face, caught Mrs. Dion sattention. |
She loved Nellie dearly, not less for her
loving kindness to her. than because she
was the wife of her nephew, the only in
fallible mortal, in Aunt Ruth's eyes that
the world contained.
" Are you not well, Nellie?"
t'Quite well, auntie."
q" You are unhappy, Nellie ?'
There was no answer, but Nellie's lips
Quivered, and two large tears gathered |
beneath the heavy dropped lashes, and
rolled slowly down her cheeks.
My dear child, | am surprised, grieved |
TO see you thus. Can you not confide in
me|'
ooh, auntie, Norman is 50 selfish, 50
unkind'
"Nellie, tel me one thing-have you
quarrelIed ?"
eyes"
" And parted in anger?"
' Yes"
eco to him, my child, and become |
recOnciled. If Norman has erred, he will |
see his fault; if you have, it is all the
more fitting that you should seek
reconciliation"
"Never."
"Hush, Nellie; will tell you a story,
n true one, about husband and wife |
who parted in anger, and never spoke to
each ether again. 1t is a terrible thing
10 anger those we love, Nellie. This
man, whom | shall all Robert, was |
proud man, grave an self-pOssessed in his |
manners, commanding as king shouldbe, |
nobler than any king that ever lived, |
Nellie, and far, far handsomer. Some |
thought him stern, but there was one |
who never found him so; and, though he |
might have been cold to others, he was
all love and tenderness to her"
His wife, aunt ?"
Eyes, Nellie. He loved her with
strength and depth of affection of which
few men are capable. Why he loved her
with such passionate devotion, l could
never see; for she was a wild, thought
less girl, exacting and willful; great
faults they must have seemed to one as
thoroughly selfdisciplined as he was.
Perhaps he OWNED what she never knew
herself till afterward, her deep love for
him. They had been married but few
months. They had thus far been very
happy, for he was so tender and thought
full toward her, and she thought she had
overcome her faults in her great happi-
ness. They were not overcome, however.
One morning he told her that he was
going away to Vernon, and should not be
back for two or three days. Vernon was
the place where she had always lived
till her marriage, and her mother still
resided there. She wished to go with
him, but he told her it would be impOssi-
BILE. She persisted, and he refused. She