Whig and tribune. [volume] (Jackson, Tenn.) 1870-1877, 1876-04-01

1t was but natural iu-tL snOulu now
insist upon Essie's sharing our parties OF
pleasure, and in her simple dresses she
far OutshOne our Others lady friends in
their most gorgeous toltets-
With her pure, pale face, her gentle,
sweet manner, always refined and high
bred. and her rare musiezi attainments,
she soon found her owIPlaee in our cir
Gle Of friends, and was 3 favorite with
many.
| was proud TO tell IslIad won her, in
spite of my mothers evident desire to
conceal the fact, and oar marriage was
appointed for an early d.1f-- ~ru
/ While my love seemed IprOsPering, and
my happiness was paIlect, 1t business
compIication-the detail OF which It IS
not necessary to give hfie-ealled nae 20
Florida.
twas in ApriI. .tI;sf sIsis hone. aud on
tlse DAY l eofnpiete;f .. sln eiIts1s-
sic came Of age. 1 was anxious to be
married before / started, but my mother
and Iona opposed this step, upon
| ground l could not combat.
''Essie is not strong, and You may be
detained for months. The tropical cli-
mate in the Summer season might be IA
/ tai to such 4 delicate constitution
In our parting interview my mother
l for the first time seemed TO realize the
depth Of my love for the pure, pale girl
! who nestled in my arms, sobbinS bitter
", till = sudden silence warned me that
she had tainted.
'sGive her TO me, Herbert" my mother
said, '.and trust me f; / will be a true moth
er, during your absence, to your chosen
1 Wife,
God bless you for that promise." l
cried. ''Now l can feel happy about my
/ poor little lilly."
Looking up rs spoke, saw lona's face
set in strange, hard expression, her
/ ewes looking vacantly forward, her checks
| deathly white, and her lips tightly com
/ pressed. Such misery and cruel hard
/ ness l never saw in any human face.
( For an instant ! felt as if l must snatch
I EsSie in my arms, and carry her with me,
{ away from any rival. Then l looked in
my mothers face, fun of tender, loving
! pity, and left the three cOmfOrted.
III had only obeyed that seemingly
mad impulse how naSach misery and sin
: might have been avfyerf
During the first Gus f54ffny absence, |
received letters con Lantly, full of shy,
sweet happiness, frOEl Essie- Ny moth
er was purchasing her froasSeaH, and hav-
ing it made in her own exquisite styles,
and ESSie wrote merrily OF her magnln-
/ cence in her costly dresses. Iona she sell
/ dom mentioned, but if she did so, it was
+ with cOnstFaint.
Nv affairs detained me until September
and | was writing the epistle announe-
/ ing my return, when the servant handed
! me letter from Essie. | tore it hastily
open to read:
''AIY-owN DEAR LOVE- %vrite to bid
You farewell for ever, Before this reach
/ es YOU. 1 shall have left your home, new
er to return. An incurable disease has
made it impossible for me to be your wife,
and has left me no refuge but to Shun
your eyes forever.
dearest. it breaks my heart to leave
yOu-to write what must be my last words
to YOU. Nav our Heavenly Father bless
your mother for her unceasing, loving
kindness to me since you left me. Tell
her am not ungratetul.
Il cannot write more-my tears blind
me. Farewell - EssIE.
Almost insane with agony, jOurneyed
day and night till | reached my home, to
find all my worst fOrebodings confirmed.
Essie had left the house, alone, leaving
only little note of farewell for my moth
err that was heart-breaking to read.
In the months during which my moth
cr had taken the sweet, gentle girl into
her heart, she had learned to love her;
but she had allowed her to pass the months
of July and August in a quiet country
boarding place with Julia, her maid,
while she had accompanied Iona to Sara
toga-
I had known of this arrangement at
the time, and approved of it, feeling that
Essie would be far happier in this seclu-
sion than amongst the gay crowd at 4
fashionable watering-Il
''What does Julia know" | asked.
''Julia has not returned here. Essie's
note met me when l returned from Sara
toga, expecting to find her here. She re
turned home for one day, and took with
her when she left only the simple ward
robe ! cOaXcd her TO discard after you
left. No one saw her, rs she had her own
passkeys for the doors. | have only one
comfort, Herbert Her income, small as
it is, Will secure her from want, and her
musical abilities are a fortune in them
selves. Ny dear boy, DO not be discour-
aged. We Will find her, if it costs our
united means to do it,
But as the Fail aud Winter wore away,
this hope grew fainter and fainter. Iona
seemed as eager as ourselves at first, but
gradually | saw thF she hoped l would
forget my old love il new one.
BY a thousand ssomanly stratagems
+ she secured my attce in public, and
( her gentle sympat!s and sIssways ready to
answer my despoEse = e nours. Yet she
would lead the conversation away from
Essie, and keep ever before my mind the
/ possibility of recovering in time from this
: blow, and still finding comfort in loTe.
1 would rise from such interviews, and
try to spur my detectives to new eNer-
Z tiOns, redouble my advertisements, and
/ set on foot new engines for the discovery
/ of my lost love.
/ The keenest sting in my weary mus
. ings was the thought OF that incurable i'll
. ness to which Essic had elluded. W here
was she hidden, TO suffer, perhaps to die,
alone, when l could have borne even her
I death, had / been permitted to comfort
/ her in sickness-to hold her dying hand
in mine. If l slept, l dreamed of the
1 face 1 loved set in the stiffness of death,
/ the golden hair matted, and the blue eyes
! closed for ever; and awoke only 10 feel,
I in half-maddened agony, that the dream,
} perhaps was true.
( Winter and Spring passed away IN vain
I attempts TO learn some tidings of Essie,
and the Summer found me haggard and
pale, more than half way on the road to
actual illness, brought on by my sorrow
I and fatigue.
had grown to fairly Ioathe Iona,s soft
voice and caressinS manner. She SEEM
ed TO me unwomanly in the attempts TO
win heart cugrOssed III such sorrow as
mine, aad her dazzling beauty was be-
coming hisieoHs in ny eyes.
l cannot explain it, but certainly mis-
trusted her. Some subtle instinct within
J me seemed to warn me from her-to assO-
ciate her with my grief, though there
was not shadow of foundation apparent
for such doubts. My mother assured me
that Iona. in her cold, proud way, had
vet been kind 20 Essie, though they were
never very close friends.
Julia had been my mothers maid. aud
f we were i'm hopes had remained with Is
sic, bat all our advertisements for the
girl were uuanS wcrcd.
1t was while affairs were in this state
that my friend told me about the perfect
seclusiOn and quiet of the little village OF
Stebbins. As ne spoke, there rose IN my
mind an intense longing for a few weeks
of the peaceful rest l could find there.
felt that disappointment and the excite
ment of seeking tidings that never came
were fast overpeweriuS my physlc3l
strength, and common sense told me II
was better to leave my inquiries Tor a lew
weeks to the detectives, than to be pros
trdted by illness.
Boarding houses " ere unknown IN the
quiet village, but [ obtained room IN a
pretty farmhouse, where, | was inform
ed, there was one other boarder besides
myself.
she is a widqsy lady" the FAR farmer r,
wife said TO me md an odd body, M
deed, sir. lShernst-,, ,,eIieYe me, yet il
r is true as gospels aEnAsfEs been here sew
eral months, ans Ke've none OF us seen
her face. She e93s in her own room, with
the door locked, ,.l when she goes ont
she wears thi4l black Grape vail over
: her face. I'm thinking, sir, maybe she
l had smallpox, or some accident thar mas
e dishgUred her poor features.
5 Probably | said, really butlittle IN
terested.
= "We often hear her sobbing, poor
thing. She pays regular, and don gIyt
Z no trouble TO speak OF. Some of the neigh
l bors blame me, sir, for keeping woman
/ Is, ,1., lint