The Cincinnati daily star. [volume] ([Cincinnati, Ohio]) 1875-1880, 1879-04-07
VANITY'S INEVITABLE DOOM.

tne COnVlCClOn tndt you 10 HOI love He,
and | have often reflected in what man
ner l might act to secure in you the at
tachment which would change your tri-
fling course toward me. l can see no
hope of it. But as we married We must
live on together without domestic peace.
1t is bitter conclusion to me, and it
can not be a very pleasant one to you
lightly as you seem to regard things seri-
ous to me-"
Ernest Atherton turned away to a
window as he said this, with sigh,
while his wife, with sneer upon her
curling lip, proceeded at mirror with
that arrangement of the hair which Is
styled "crimping."
Mrs. Athcrton was comely enough to
look upon, save the palpable expression
of overwe ening vanity which breathed
from mouth more supercilious than
winning. She was young woman OF
about twenty, and had heard so many
fiattering acquaintances say that she was
handsome that the thought was seldom
out of her mind; and, like many another
conceited person, she lived for herself
alone. She had quite as little of that
domestic temperament which forms the
crowning virtue and fascination of wo-
man as God ever allotted to a mortal !;
and as Ernest was the reverse of her p
this important respect, no wonder that
their married life, which had now CON
tlnued but year, was unhappy.
"9ou are very sentimental nOw,' said
Mrs. AthertOn, with heartless tittering
which she well knew aggravated him
"and wish that could be plain Lucille
Montrose again, that you might marry
some simple fool of woman who liked
such lackadaisical talk. 1t would be a
great blessing to you; but as to her, un-
less she was downright simpleton, she
would soon get as sick of you as-well, I
will say no more, and you can guess the
rest"
Ernest bit his lip but made no reply.
"There, my hair is finished at last, and
don't you think it looks beautiful? but
no, of course not. / know you never
liked my hair this way. But Others do,
who have taste; and that is all | care
for. Do you know that I am going to
visit my mother to-day, Ernest, to be
gone a month"; You can come if you
like; but they have so much company
there that suppose you won't care to
come"
Business will prevent me, Lucille, az
it isso far from town. Still, as you are
determined to go, go-and be happy, if
you can, while remain lonely at home. "
"Well, goodbye. Take care of your
self. | know that | shall have a pleas
ant time"
And away went the selfish woman to
dress and be gone on her unprincipled
pursuit of what she called happiness.
1t was an unprincirled pursuit, and
argued quite as much reprehensible inf
deity to her marriage VOWS as though
she had fled with paramour during that
time; for her heart was conscious and
capable of the eadoption of means quite ms
wounding as that which is technically
termed infidelity, But, thanks to Godl
they who pursue pleasure by such reck.
less means never find her. Rest is never
habitant of their hearts. In what they
gain there is no calm, substantial, abid
ing satisfaction; and, though they may
boast that conscience Fever troubles
them, there is something ALWAYS within
their wearied bosoms which curses them
with ennui-with a sense that all the ap
parent privileges with which they are ell
dowed are mockeries to themselves
though not appearing SO to others-and
that their lot is far less enviable than the
lives of those who envy them. 1t is al
inexorable law of human nature anc
can not be escaped.
A month-a heavy, tedious month tC
Ernest Atherton-a capricious, riddy
flirting, but not happy one, to Lucille
passed, but the wife did not return; yet
in her stead, came a letter, announcing
her conviction that they never could har
monize, and her resolution never to re-
turn to him. She concluded by saving
that it was pleasant reflection that they
had no children to trouble them, b,
Strengthening the unfor unate marriage
tie; and that in due legal time he could
obtain divorce for desertion and marry
again; "but as for me-" she added, "a
never intend to get married. Liberty foI
me, now and forever"
1t would be useless to attempt to de
scribe the effect of such tidings upo,
Ernest Atherton. Those only could un
dcrstand who have suffered such &
wound, and to those it is unnecessary tt
revive the memory Of their pain.
Sometimes during the period between
his wife's abandonment and the time
when he applied for and easily obtained
u divorce on the ground Of desertion
Ernest felt hope, and even a wish, fol
reconciliation; but he wisely decided tc
wait for an overture from her; and al
none came, he wisely inferred that 8
reunion would be but sure renewal Of
misery. He obtained divorce, and was
free, but not a happy man, once more
1t was but natural that, suffering tht
wrong that he had suffered, distrust o
womankind should grow in his heart
and suspicion has ever a melancholy
shadow. Often he saw forms or faces, OF
heard voices, which reminded him of ont
whom he had loved and been betrayed
by, and he turned from the possessors-
for they panied him with the poignant
memory of blighted trust. Ernest Ath
erton was lawfully free; but he felt tha,
neyermore could he be free with hi,
heart and hand as he had been. He re
moved, after bis divorce, to part of the
country far distant from the scene of hi,
troubles, and immersed himself as much
as possible in the cares of business.
And what was the course and how
passed the life of Lucille Montrose?-fol
that name she resumed; and what wal
the worlds regard for her7
WAS she as Those who love their lords, or thos,