The Democratic press. [volume] (Ravenna, O. [Ohio]) 1868-1901, 1880-06-24
The Hidden Sorrow.

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It was bitter cold day; the streets OF
New York were alive with q dense mass OF
and yelled, as became those who joyously
braved the penetrating wind and sharp at
mosphere, in the meny-making time be-
| tween the death of the old and the birth of
| the New Year.
Notwithstanding the frosty weather, the
Empire City WIS never in gayer mood and
up and down and across the thronged thor
oughfares, stylish turnouts dashed swiftly
| by to the twinkling music of silver-tongued
bells and low, happy laughter speeding away
| to the open roads and snow-clad country,
lying white and still beyond the hurry and
turmoil of the great city.
Though so cold without, it was warm
enough in the elegant room where we were
sitting-my cousin Althea, her half-sis-
ter, Mrs. Irene Chester, and I. My cousin
Alihea was not young-past thirty, in fact /;
but she was the most beautiful woman
ever saw, and as she sat in the large crimson
damask chair by the window, dreamily look
ing out at the hurrying passers-by, 1 thought
had never seen any one SO charmingly and
irresistibly lovely. Her lustrous black eyes,
clear olive complexion and glossy wealth of
purple black hair were SO perfectly perfect
that one did not know which to admire the
most, and her voice and smile were as sweet
and winning as l,er form was graceful and
her face matchlessly beautiful.
Howard Tremaine loved her as few men
love their wives; and Althea, as everybody
knew, idolized her handsome husband, and
yet somewhere there was q hidden sorrow,
the nature of which 1 could not for my life
divine. 1t had seen its shadow more than
once, but the substance kept itself well out
of view, and, but for the sad, anxious, rest
less look that often of late crept into Althea's
great, soulful eyes, ia not have thought sor-
row could exist in her luxurious home, much
less fix itself permanently there.
We were going to the opera in the even
ing. Mr.. Chester was to attend us in the
absence of Howard, who had gone away two
or three hours before with three or four
friends, who had, very much to his wife's re-
gret, called for him to accompany them on
a little half-hour or 30 sleigh-ride out on the
Bloomingdale Road
As the short Winter afternoon wore on,
Althea grew every moment more and more
uneasy; her faith in the " little half hour or
So" never having been very strong, died ut
terly, long before the SUMS last cold, golden
rays faded in the west, and when Mrs. Ches-
ter rang for lights, and carelessly remarked
that it was time to dress, she was noticeably
Ill at ease, and would do nothing but walk
to and fro between the window and the
warm, rosy freight in that nervous, listen
ing, e1pectant way, which is painfully sug-
gestive of secret dread and anxiety, too deep
and wretched for words.
Whatever Howard Tremaine touched
turned to gold, and all that money could
buy his wife possessed Her wardrobe,
Jewels, house and carriage were among the
most superb in New York, yet her closet
evidently had its skeleton, and tonight,
more than ever before, it seemed deter
mined to rattle its dry bones in our very
ears, and make itself felt and seen in every
nook and corner of the millionaire's sump-
tuous home. in spite of all Althea could do
to keep the unpleasant thing out of sight
For the twentieth time, she walked to the
window, and, with haf-suppressed sigh on
her lips, stood Watching the sleighs fly past,
so long that Mrs. Chester quite lost her pa
tience, and exclaimed, rather petulantly:
"Nonsense, Althea! Why is it that you
always viii be worrying about Howard. He
is not baby, and is no doubt quite as ca
pable Of finding his way home alone a. most
men are. Mr.. Tremaine knows that We are
going to the opera this evening, and he will
besure to drop in before the end of the first
act, you may depend. And now We must
dress, il We wish to hear the opening air in
Faust, which certainly do, however it
may be with you"
Mrs. Chester was one of those positive
chazacters who immediately act upon what
they say, and IN less than an hour We were
on our way to the opera
The house, when we entered, was liter
ally packed with most brilliant and fash
ionable audience, but Althea seemed to
move Ike one in dream, and took not the
slightest notice of anything or anybody
around her.
could not mals II out at al, and hardly
dared to look at her for very sympathy.
Her magnificent dress of violet velvet and
creamy old lace bacame her perfectly, and
never did queen carry herself more roy
ally, or seem more unconscious of her
grandeur and beauty.
Diamonds fortunes worth of them
flashed on arms, neck and bosom, and
cleaned like drops Of liquid light amid the
rich abundance of her dusky hair but she
was not happy.
There was much too heavy sorrow lying
unrestfully at her heart for that-too much
of nameless dread and anxiety to allow en-
ioyment of any sort.
At the end of the second act a gentleman
made his way to our box, and asked, in the
usual conventional manner, after the GUS
tomary greetings were gone through with,
how we liked the music.
Mr.. Chester, who had been comfortably
DOING in his chair the whole time, declared
he was never more charmed-an innocent
fabrication which none of us cared to ques-
ton sA b sAz
"And whore did you leave Mr.. Ire
maine q" inquired Mrs. Chester. IN some
surprise. "He was with you, think, Mr..
Richland % asss s- stsEsss 81
eyes and left him with tha othera st