The Bolivar bulletin. [volume] (Bolivar, Hardeman County, Tenn.) 1865-1888, 1879-05-22

| AC-sA q NOAA = ksOACu aHcIUBE nlLQ.
would never trouble my head about
him again." said one; 81 would stop
mourning, and let him CO."
g would get a divorce, and marry
| sgain," said another.
/" He was q scamp, any way, and she
has plenty of money and that dear little
| boy left" chimed a third.
But to her they spoke gently always,
OF her loss reveIently, as of the dead, for
she was beloved by all.
She stayed in the home where he had
| left her. The roses bloomed by the
doorway, almost unnoticed; the vines
! struggled unframed over the porch the
garden lay neglected the house was
! quiet always, and the only happy thing
| about it was baby Lou, who ate and slept
and laughed aud grew cheerily enough,
| yet seemed to wonder sometimes why
mamma, wept whena half-forgotten face
| crossing his infantile mind, he called for
L" Papar'
So the summer passed, and autumn,
with its softened sunshine, dying beauty
and weird melodies came, rounding the
year since Louis Alston left his home.
| A yesrl The pale woman, standing
where he had kissed his pretty vile
| good-by, looking so sadly unlike her
former self, asked her aching heart how
many long, long years like this ere hfe's
! hold must be loosed from earth, and the
| years to come looked dreary indeed.
Once during the winter that followed
came a too officicus friend, who bade her
| be comforted.
&c have been where Louis was" said
| he, "and learned all about the girl he
went away with. She is silly, heartless
creature, and people said there was no
| doubt she would leave Mr.. Aston if his
| health or money should fail. It will be
| strange if he isn't poor man before
many years go by, for he has become
very reckless with his property, and en-
| he will see how much his new love cares
| for him. He will receive his due re-
ward, and you will be revenged, never
fear'
" do not crave revenge" was the
only reply of the trueNhearted wife, and
in the night watches she sobbed on her
wakefuI pillow, God have pity for
him, wherever he is I'
By and by the child sickened, and for
time the mother forgot all else.
Its only a cold," the good neighbors
said; "he'll be well in day or two"
But the little one grew no better. There
was q brief, sharp struggle with the
Destroyer, then the baby hands fell help
less down, and the sunny life was
yielded.
She was slone-poor RosaIie Aston
with only that sweet dead face and
tiny, cold form, and that beautiful pic
tured face of the absent one-Only these
left of her treasures. Yet not alone, for
nearer to the torn heart came the pres
ence of the infinite sympathy and love
over the weary, impatient spirit fell
something of the peace of that land
wherein her babe WIS safe.
"Jt's wonderful how she bears her
trouble" said the doctors wife across
the way; Z" such irail little creature,
too"
Z" Yes I'm afraid sometimes she'll not
be long with US, though" replied the
next~d0er neigh Dor. ''She does not say
any thing about Alr. Alston, but doubt
if there's ever a moment when he's cut
of her mind"
You don't think she would forgive
him if he should come back? She has
too much spirit for that
"S She has spirit enough, to be sure,
but hers is the true spirit. She has the
nobility that forgives the deepest wrongs.
She's worth dozen like Lou Aston,
any day" -.
L
he said he was not worthy of her"
"But l believe his desertion will gTieve
her life away. She is no more like the
pretty rosy girl he brought here than
white violet is like rose" and the ten
der-hearted woman wiped her spectacles
to take look over at the tasteful dwell
ing of the lonely sister-wOman, for whom
her kind heart ached daily.
/" Poor, lonesome child l'' she sighed.
" IF Lou Aston thinks he has found a
better love than hers, he is mistaken"
There was never an hour of waketul-
ness in which she did not remember him.
Her soul never lost its longing for him.
And the springtime coming again with
its beauty and music, dropped none OF
the old-time life and joy for her from its
perfumed wings as it passed, for the
snow of chill despair still lay over that
year~old grave, where her hearts tondest
trust had been laid, and on the turf over
that little mound in the village cemetery,
SO precious to her, the grass had never
been green.
81 must go away from here" she
thought, IS the summer deepened. L
must find work to do. l am wasting
time and losing energies that might be
of use to others. l must go away and
see if the world has any place for me-"
But one day there came to her door
weird old creature, who called-herself
fOTtune-te4leF-one of those strange
women who gain a livelihood by going
about the country begging the privilege
of telling "fortunes" for q quarter.
Pitying the old woman, Mrs. Alston
gave her a seat inside the door. The
wandering eyes fell on the handsome
painted likeness of Louis Aston that
hung on the wall opposite them.
is that your husbands pictureP
she asked, with sudden interest.
Yes" was the low reply.
"Poor child poor child p' muttered
the woman and she glanced again
sharply at the pDrtrait. Then she
turned to the pale wife.
He isn't happy, now," she said
she isn't happy now. I've seen that
man, and I know he isn't happy now.
Maybe he will come back to you ;" and
refusing to say more, the old woman
went her wBy.
No one could tell whether the stranger
spoke truth or islsehood. No one knew
where she had been in her Wanderings.
she might nave seen that guilty fugitive.
She might thus have learned what she
prOfessed to know of him. Rosslie Ais
! ton waited there where he had left her,
not hoping, only dreaming, of possible
return.
In the autumn came an unexpected
summons
e VIII Mrs. Aston come at once to
-?" wrote the clergyman who had
oficiated at her marriage service, from
one of the great cities of the land. GO A
| friend lying dangerously i'll here would
be grateful for her presence"
With trembling hands she made ready
/ for her Journey, dread and fear half