Catoctin clarion. [volume] (Mechanicstown, Md.) 1871-1940, 1878-12-25

knew my pam was less IMAM MS, oe'
cause his nature was deeper, more in
tense IN all things. than mine.
l would not pine for any man, |
thought, and dashed into every gay
ETY. available in our circle. But my
hirtations were wasted, as he did not
see them, and nv heart was sick for a
look from his tender eyes. | blushed
for myself when | stole out at dusk
and crossed our garden to look in at
the window of his study to watch him.
He was paler, graver than ever, bend
ing over his books for an hour at a
time without turning leaf, or walk
lag up and down with folded arms
aad bowed head, musing painfully, as
| could see by his rigid lips and stern
brow.
| had beed six months at Wolfston,
and the snow covered the ground
when Mrs. Latimer impaired Inc the
first piece of gossip | ever heard fail
from her lips.
You remember that Mr. Dalton
who came here SO often when We
werc first h, re- She asked me as we
fingered over late breakfast.
/ nodded assent.
My dear lie has a crazy wife shut
up in that gloomy house Of his
Nonsense : | said sharply, while
my brain seemed aLAme.
But Mrs. Reynolds told NE She
says that Mrs Dalton has whole
suit Of upper rooms, two women to
wait upcu Ler, every care and lndul,
gsnce, but that she is a violent ma
niar.
But he would not pass himself of
for a single :nan- began.
Who ever heard him say whether
he was married or single? vas tie
reply. He never talked about him
self
Which was strictly true.
So Il is WAS the solution Of the mvs.
terv This was the reason why, when
we met in the woods or lanes, he wa.
restrained aud cold, until, by little |
woke the lovelight in his eyes, the
tender tones Of his voice, and was
happy, nntlI some warning reused
him to his own happiness, and lie
would lave abruptly, as if caught in
some net hard to break.
A mad wife Truly | have played
noble part to win the love that be-
Ionged to the poor c. feature wasting
her life a prisoner In her own house
| WAS humbied to the very dust
though conscious Of my own innocence
Of any intention Of wronging her. My
heart ached for both, Tor his generous
devotion, his involuntary faithfulnesS
and for her-oh, how | pitied her
his wife and mad
But i had my task now-to conquer
the miserable love IN my own neart
to tear away, one by one, the sweet
dreams | had cherished of the time
would breal; down the barrier that
separated US, and win from Ralph the
assurance Of his love. l would not
cross a grave to my own happiness
and but death could free him?
would not love him, but oh, how
my heart ached for his misery II
only he could be my brother, that
might assure him Of my sympathy,
comfort him, give him some womanlv
care in his deselated home. ! would
wake sobbing from dreams of his p.in
| stole often to the hedge in the gar
den and watched how he grew paler
and sadder, and my prayers for him
were more earnest than they had
ever been for myself.
1t was after the New York festivi-
ties, and | had shaken hands with
Ralph at my reception, and smiled
into bis hag5ard face with what | felt
was very wintry imitation Of joyous
greeting. | had crept away to weep.
after all my guests were gone, and
Mrs. Latimer had told melt was
all quite perfect, my dear; but you
look pale and tired. You had better
sleep late Tomorrow.
And l had tossed sleeplessly till
dawn. A bright winter dawn, with
the sun beating on the hard, frozen
ground and not breath of wind stir
r;p1 T u.S mn eorlv orI nut Tho