The Pulaski citizen. [volume] (Pulaski, Tenn.) 1866-current, 1878-10-03

writing desk, and on one side, which
| had always thought solid panel,
there was q secret door which was
now open, and in the deep recess L
beheld the portrait of a handsome,
brownhaired, browneyed man. The
face and form were possessed of
rare manly beauty, and had been
portrayed by master hand. The
figure was tall and handsomely pro
portioned, and it had been painted
in a standing attitude, with the
right hand resting on a console-ta
BILE, while the face was one of pure
Grecian type, and wore the expires
sion of a proud and imperious
spirit. | had never seen the por-
trait before, and | saw at the first
glance that did not know, or rath
er that [ had never even seen the
original. Before it knelt my heart
sohole. careless and happy friend, her
face buried in her hands, and her
slender form convulsed with sobs.
dead deadr' | heard her moan
in voice that pierced me to the
heart, it was 50 intensely sad, and
breathed of such dreary hopeless
anguish. "Dead! and you never
knew and would not have cared,
had you known, of all that wealth of
love l gave you! What was | to
you? What did you know or care,
when you loved another? AMI now
from your home in Heaven you can
look down and see what you were
and are to me stillp'
Unseen, anheard, L retreated from
the room, shocked, surprised and
panied far more than any words of
mine can tell. l went to the library
and sat down, feeling as though L
was under some enchanter's spell. l
sat there silent and motionless as
statue. Only my thoughts were
busy, for kept wondering if that
sorrow-stricken woman could have
been my gay laughing companion
of yesterday! l wondered if it was
a sorrow of recent date, or one of
the long ago. One of long passed
years did not doubt; and it was
hidden sorrow, locked away beyond
all mortal knowledge. But it seemed
almost impossible to believe that
she carried broken heart beneath
the bright smiles that made her so
attractive to all the world. l won
dered if she would be the same gay,
lively spirit when next 1 saw her!
1t scarcely seemed possible to think
she would, and / dreaded meeting
her again.
After nearly half an hour had
passed, rang the bell and told the
servant to tell her mistress that
was there waiting to see her, and in
fifteen minutes she came into the
library, bright-and gay as ever, and
looking as though she had never
known what it was to shed a tear.
She expressed herself glad to see
me, and anxious to hear the poems. |
read them to her, and she tore
each sentiment to pieces with her
usually smiling scorn.
was panied and surprised at the !
l m ade that day. Panied |
that my dear friend should be, not
the merry, light-hearted woman that
| had taken her to be, but a grief
stricken one, whose heart was in
the grave of one who never cared
for her, which made it all the more
to be wondered at that she should
still cherish love for him in her
heart. Surprised that she could
mask a broken heart with a light
costing spirit. l saw that it was a
sorrow, that no one knew
DR. was ever likely to know the Sc
,ret of her life. She never knew
that l had been to her room that
lay. dared not ask any questions
about what saw and heard, and l
never knew any more than what l
hat day Witnessed.
Many a year has passed since
hen, and she has gone to brighter
home above; gone with her secret
lnrevealed, and never to be known
n this world; but have never been
lble to forget that day in her bou-
loir. 1t was my first glimpse into
he real world around me-my first
discovery of the fact that a bright
milling face can conceal a broken
leart.