The Cincinnati daily star. [volume] ([Cincinnati, Ohio]) 1875-1880, 1876-11-11

and writes her acceptance of Mr.. Ather-
toms honor.
She rings for the boy to place them in
| the mail. She will put her decision be-
yond her control to alter.
Miss Mcdonald has never been more
brilliantly beautiful, more graceful or
lseit-possessed than on her graduating
night. Her cheeks are burning with In
tense and vivid flame, her eyes are shin
ing like stars. And when 1t is over, she
can scarcely count the bouquets that
have been showered around her.
Two months later, q wedding takes
place, the wedding OF the season. Every
one raves over the BRIDES beauty, the
masters wealth.
Mamma is there, dressed In the richest
or quiet silks, prOuder than she could
express both of her handsome, gifted
daughter, and her daughters great
match.
Far away, in little Southern town a
man reads the words in a chance paper,
the words that tell him that his little
Elise is lost to him soithot hope.
| Then he crushes out ner memory. He
burns her letters, the flowers she gave
him, the lock of shining hair. Then his
hand rests on locket--a locket set with
bloodstone and onyx. He touches the
spring, and before him is again the
sweet. childish face, the sensitive mouth,
the white, dimpled shoulders.
The strong man chokes down a sob.
He can not destroy this. This is not the
face OF the tair, proud woman who wears
a glittering diamond upon her taper
finger. 1t is his own little darling, his
oaDA as she was-but, oh, my Goa! as
she can never be againl
Elise Atherton, lair and proud, reigns
in her husbands stately home.
Ii any recollection there were in her
heart Of the past days, none knew it,.
She was gayest OF the gay, sought after,
admired.
Year after year passed away. No
children came to strengthen the bond OF
union between herself and her husband.
He was kind to her, after the fashion
OF mankind-gaye her carte blanche with
which to gratlfy all her luxurious tastes.
And yet, somewhere in her heart was
a void, untitled.
She was thirty-six years old now, and,
feeling that her youth was passed, she
longed for that which she had wasted,
tor the love which in the olden days she
had thrown away.
In the lovely eyes of late there had
grown sad expression as of one who
looks back sadly on the "might have
Deen."
A vague longing encompassed her, a
longing to stand once more in the old
familiar places where she had stood in
those days when she was but child,
and had found all her happiness in a
mau's smile.
And so, at last, it came to pass that
she stood in the door of the little cottage
J on the banks of the golden river, "hel
river" she had callea it to herself SC
: many times, and saw again the trees
and flowers and waters That she had moi
seen in nineteen long weary years, save
in dreams.
Down the garden path she goes now
her rich silk trailing o'er the pebbles
with rustling sound.
She leans over the little gate. Tht
sun is setting, and the river is al
flushed with its crimson light. 1t shines
J on the trees and flowers aud lights them
up into passionate color.
A mist Of tears dims the beautiful
landscape.
Tears from the depth of some divine despair
Rise from the heart and tremble In the eyes,
, When looking on the happy autumn fields
And thinking of the days that are no more"
Before the sun has sunk behind the
cool dark trees, afgure approaehes-the
} figure of man.
He raises his head as he passes the
gate, and looks up casually.
AS their eyes meet a flush rises al
over the woman's face.
He is the more selt-possessed of the
two. He comes forward and she gives
him her hand.
They exchange some common wordl
OF greeting, speak Of the weather, &c
, He inquiries tor her mother, and hnall,
raises his hat. "They will be glad tx
J see her," he says, '.if she has an oppor
tunity to call before she leaves. 1t seemi
1 quite pleasant to meet OLD frIend
again."
aud then he goes on his way, men,
tally contrasting the pale sad-eye(
; woman he has left, with the plump rosy
him at home. While she in turl
i watches his somewhat pertly figure gu
8 Of sight around q bend in the road,
Then she turns back to her picture
/, but somehow the river has lost th
t golden glamour of few moments be
r fore. 1t flows by much like any othe
river. The ground is getting damp too
e "Ughl the dew is falling, il she doesn'
: 20 in she will have cold in her head ii
!, the morning." SO she turns toward the
Y house with quick step.
!, She called Oh "them" next day. Sh
sal. and talked with him on indifferent
3 subjects for an hour praised the babies
of which there seemed to be
countless multitude, whom n
: man could number, gave quie
1 farewell to her host and hostess, AM
in day or two had gone back to be
8 city mansion and her stately husband.
i. And that was the end Of it ALL D
q not YOU like the storyp
. Nevertheless, it IL true one, an
e many a sweet dream cherished in tn
Iinnermost heart would vanish into tbi
air could 1t but for one moment be cot
r fronted with the living reality.