Weekly Trinity journal., 1876-03-25

I
what was taking place. But so fully did
she sympathize with all of my old hopes
and aspirations that soon found myself
at my studies with an energy and ability
| had never before possessed. The CON
stancy of her sense and sympathy was
even exceeded by that of her affection,
which seemed never to slumber for an
instant. Finally, when, on my return
from an enforced absence for few DAYS,
Eunice, from her couch, sweetly handed
to me wee, warm miniature of herself
my cup ofjoy seemed full to ovcrnowing.
AS Eunice recovered, she spent most
of her time in the grove and garden sur
rounding the house, These, to crafty
Antas tropical tastes, l had prepared
without regard to expense, and now that
all the shrubbery had gained several
years of growth, ono could roam about
for days and still find new and beautiful
combinations and effects. There, when
ever l wearied of my books for awhile,
sought my darlings, and always found in
their society exactly the recreation that |
needed.
One evening as l wandered through
the garden in hopes of suddenly surpris-
ing Eunce and her little namesake,
suddenly emerged from group of shrub
berry and beheld scene that startled mo-
Eunice. who was to me tho ideal OF all
that was pure, and faithful, and noble,
sat in rustic chair, and at her feet,
clasping her hand, and murmuring pas
sionately, was n slight, handsome for
eigner, whose features were strange to
me. Eunice, my trusted wife, was deep
y atlccted-so much so that the cries of
her little daughter, who had fallen to the
ground few steps away were unheeded.
My footsteps startled them, and the man,
glancing hastily across his shoulder,
sYrang to his feet and bounded hastily
away, while Eunice, still fearful, main
tanned composure which astounded me,
and gave me searching, plying, tender
look which completely bewldered me-
For moment or two l was speechless,
and then | asked
"Who was that man, Eunice ?"
"a poor beggar, Herbert," she re-
piled.
ale was very finely dressed for per
son in that profession" said |. The sus
picion which for the time filled my mind
probably betrayed itself in my tone, for
Eunice arose, proud, handsome, and an
CRY, and exclaimed
Herbert, do you doubt my word ?"
Never in her most tender moment, had
| seen Eunice so perfect n picture of no.
bility and purity. My suspicious were
disarmed in an instant, and throwing my
arms about her neck, | begged her par
don, and expressed my penitence in the
fullest terms / could command, until
with her own dear lips she stopped my
uttcranco entirely.
From that day there commenced SER
les of changes in Eunice's manner, which
by turns perplexed, embarrassed, grievcd
and provoked me. AT first | attributed
her strange manner to my gricvous blum
der in momontarily distrusting her, so
was unceasing in apologies and in my en-
| deavors to make atonement by showing
even more affection than that which SEEM
ed already to occupy my entire thought
and time. But, when she admitted that
my mistake had been n fully justifable
one, became convinced that there was
different cause for her change Of demean-
or. Though more than ever devoted TO
my interests, hopes and tastes, she seem
ed to shrink from the close and tender
companionship which had existed be-
tween us.
Little by little she withdrew herself
from me, until we were little more than
polite acquaintnnccs. Pretending that
our little daughter might disturb my rest
by her wakefulness, Eunice arranged for
herself apartments near those Anita had
occupied. These latter had been locked
Immediately after Anita's departure, and
never been entered by any one. Then,
though apparently in the best of health,
Eunice complained OF frequent indsposi-
ton, during which attacks she had her
meals sent to her room, and our house
keeper remarked, casually, that my wife
had an unusual appetite when sick.
Time after time | implored her TO tell
me the cause Of her sadness and strange
ness, but every time | alluded to the sub
ject she would look so unutterably sad
and weep so bitterly, that out Of regard
for her finally desisted entirely. She
said that | never made her unhappy
that my love for her had been greater
than she had ever believed could be shown
by man TO woman, and that she had rath-
er be my slave than the wife Of any other
man in the world. But when, moved by
The passion Of her words and look, begg-
ed her, for her loves sake, to tell me the
cause of her sorrow, and put it in my
power to remove it if possible, she would
burst into tears-even my caresses SEEM
ed to be unendurable to her.
AS for me, my whole life became ut
terly miserable. The idea Of dreadful
secret sorrow in the life OF the woman /
loved so dearly was insupportable, yet
there was no honorable escape from it,
Any privation from her society would
have cheerfully endured If / could there
by have restored to her the happiness she
seemed to have lost completely, but the
thought that my suffering was fruitless of
any good to her only added to my mis-
cry. lost my spirits, my appetite, my
interest in my studies, and finally my
ability to sleep. Night after night snent
on the verandah, or gloomily strolling