Mexico weekly ledger., 1876-11-23
THE SECOND MARRIAGE.

"I can not write any MORE" said a
letter from one of my most esteemed
correspondents. "The soul of my life
has fled, only the gaunt skeleton of ex-
istence remains TO me. There is no
more poetry, no more art, no more in
SEPARATION for me. My little Ellen is
dead"
"But,' l wrote in reply, "you are
young yet, and despair is unnatural.
twenty-five years a not have exhaust
ed all the sources of happiness, of con-
tentment."
"No," she wrote, Happiness still
dwells in the universe for others; but
my heart is consumed, blackened with
fire, withered."
feelings should be lasting. Youthful
hearts, buoyant by nature and replete
with e~xcellencies, are fertile in every
thing but despair. But a change of
scene, OF association, was very necessa-
ry to Aurelia. My next letter contained
a pressing invitation for her to spend
the winter with me. At first she reso-
lutely declined; but when, at Michael
mas, l made a journey to Cloverdale on
purpose to bring her home with me,
her good aunt joined her e%ntreaties to
mine, and the result was Aurelia yield
ed passively, and suffered herself to be
brought away.
l anticipated a double pleasure in
presenting Aurelia Desmond to my
friends-tor, in spite of her protesta-
4ions, I wa determined that she should
be so introduced. Over and beyond the
benefit which 1 felt sure she would de-
rive from the cOmpanionship of q small
circle of refined and cultivated, yet
mostly original minds, l prophesied a
pleasant surprise to more than n of
them, in contemplating the purity and
simplicity of character which made the
young widow SO charming, and ] inno-
Gently plotted that the delicate film of
mystery which l would weave about her
should brighten the charm.
Aurelia had been an orphan from
her infancy. Her mother had been of
Quaker parentage, and left her infant,
with her dying breath, to the care of
her only sister, a member of the order
of Friends. By Aurelia's marriage with
one of the worlds people, she had for
feited the religious sympathy of the con
gregation, but, after the death of her
idolized husband, she had been rein
stated in their favor, though she had
never conformed herself wholly to their
rules of dress and speech. OF course,
even at the death of her only child, lit
tie Ellen, she wore no mourning; and
the fact, together with the QuakerIike
simplicity which made her like always
to be addressed by her first name, de-
stermined me to conceal rs much as
possible of her former history from her
new acquaintance. 1t was partly for
her own benefit, too, that 1 arranged
this little plot; since the purpose of her
visit would, doubtless, be the more
efFectually gained if she could be spared
all those condolences and expressions
of sympathy which the knowledge of
her desolate condition would naturally
call forth.
Familiar as 1 was with the pure and
noble qualities of her mind, her stately
and statuesque beauty, heightened, per-
haps, by that dignity which a great
grief always imposes, impressed me
deeply, and a tender attachment sprang
mp between us.
She was introduced to my friends only
as Aurelia Desmond; and they, appre-
ciating the simple dignity of the appel
lation, pronounced it with such deep
respect that its plainness could not pos
sibiy have been offensive to the most
1~astidious.
L confess that my anticipations of
Aurelia were not at first perfectly re-
allied. She certainly attracted as much
attention as l could have desired, for
the charm of her beauty and intelli-
gence, heightened by the mournful re-
serve which displayed SO perfectly her
abstraction of soul and deep acquairt-
ance with sorrow, made her every
where an object of profound interest.
But she herself was little affected by this
attention. No eloquence or brilliancy
of manner could attract her outward
from the entrenched citadel of her sor-
rowful thoughts; no piquancy of wit or
repartee could waken more than the
faintestsmile about her beautiful mouth;