The Pulaski citizen. [volume] (Pulaski, Tenn.) 1866-current, 1879-03-13

terly regret that she had sent bim
on that wild errand. Poor Isabelle
how 'unutterably miserable she was.
She had loved Lord Wellington with
all her heart, and she had lost him
by her own foolish act. She was
humbled by her own vanity. And
now she knew how dear he was To
her, and how lonely and desolate
her life would be through all com
ing years. But bravely she bore
her trouble, and no one, not even
her watchfnl cousins, dreamed OF
the weight of sorrowful regret that
pressed upon her heart. She con
tinued bright and gay as ever, win
ming coaquests innumerable, only
TO refuse one and all; and she be.
gan to be called heartless filrt
and coquet, but she did not care
for what was said. She knew that
life had ceased to hold any charms
for her. But well she guarded her
secret, and no one thought that the
gay and beautiful Lady Isabelle
Fonstin would gladly have LAID
down her weary life burden. Lady
Violet expostulated with her to no
purpose. She wound listen TO no.
thing. At last they returned home
and friends fiocked around them.
"Welcome home again." cried one
gentleman, shaking hands heartily.
"Welcome home. | am glad to see
you back with whole bones after so
much mountain elm bing. There
has been so many accidents. One
or two have been killed, and of
course you know about Lord Wei
lington. He was with your party,
wasn't he?'' about Lord Yelling
tonr' Each looked at the other.
"We know nothing, except that he
left US without any ORDERS" said
Lady Montrose. ''Ah, it vas after
that then! Well, they brought him
home last week a mere wreck. He
iell down one of those horrible
precipices and was badly injured.
They say it is doubtful if he ever
RECEIVERS; and you did not know? ?'
Lady Isabelle did not wait to hear
any more, but crept out of the room
and found her way to her own,
where she could indulge her emo
tions without restraint. Those few
words told the terrible story. She
knew why he did not return to the
inn. She knew now the cost of the
Alpine rose she had so lightly
thrown away. "Oh, Arthur, Ar
thur" moaned the proud Lady Isa
belle. "Oh, Arthur, my darling!
can l ever undo the evil | have
wrought? Will a lifetime's devo-
tion atone in any measure for what
L have done? If it can, it shall be
yours"
Then with trembling hands and
a heart flied with painful feelings
of hope and fear, she attired herself
for drive and ordered her carriage.
She knew that she would find Lord
WelliLgt at his sisters residence,
and she drove there at once. otis
Lord Wellington that l wish TO see,
not Lady Clarice Grame," she said
to the servant, who stared at her in
"Give him nv card.
L know that he is an invalid, hut he
will see me-" In a few minutes she
was admitted to a darkened room.
A figure lay motionless upon low
couch, and a pair of large, beautiful
blue eyes looked eagerly towards
her. "COme nearer said a faint
voice. 81 am not able to offer you
a chair, or even my hand. Perhaps
you have heard of my accident. 1t
was fearful, but l am still alive and
so happy at meeting you once more.
1t is a pleasure / dared not hope |
for" Lady Isabelle went nearer,
but she did not sit down, but knelt |
beside the couch and looked at the |
invalid with all the wealth of her
warm loving heart shining in her
soft dark eyes. You brave, great
hearted man." she said; "you refrain |
from taunting me, from telling me
that l bade you bring me the Alpine
aower. Oh, | know all. 1t was in |
that that you fell. You
do not reproach me, yet you know l
am to blame for bidding you risk
your life for the rose; but you must
hate me- Tell me, do you not hate
me for it?" A tender smile wreathed |
his handsome lips. "Hate your
be said, 80, Isabelle, let me keep
one thought through the dull, sad |
life that | must lead. If | had |
brought you the rose, would you
have given me the right to say, ii
love your" The proud head dropped |
low, lower still, till the warm soft
cheek rested against his own. "You
the rose for me-" she whis
pered, "and now have brought you
the mean and miserable reward
myself. Such as | am, take me.
Let me be your faithful wife, and
do all that wife can do to allevi
ate your suffering. l love you and
offer myself to you, and if you re-
fuse me, l well know that l deserve
It," "You know that l lie here |
helpless as log, and do you think
you could sacrifice yourself to be
nurse to one like mef Oh, Isabelle, |
l love you, but l cannot consent |
that you should thus sacrifice" but
she sealed his.lips with the first kiss.
.'Hush, my darling" she whispered |
softly. ''If you love me, it is set
tied"
And so the most romantic we'd
ding of the year took place a few
weeks later beside Lord Yelling |
toms couch. And the few guests
gave fearful kisses TO the welded !
pair, thinking it would be a sad life
they would lead. But from the
in which Isabelle's lips had
touched his, Lord Wellington seem
I'd TO grow stronger, and by slow de-
grees recovered, not all his former
strength and beauty perhaps, but
still so much that life is once more
4 blessing, and TO his wife, at least,
he is the very handsomest of men.
1t may not be necessary to call
the attention OF mothers 20 the fact
that the following Invaluable sng
gestion is that of father: A ia
5her who had passed many sleep
ecs piUhtc hos immorfalizad him,