Morris tribune., 1880-12-23
LADY MARGARET'S VISION.

LADY MARGARET's VISION.
In richly furnished, but somewhat an
tique apartment, a sat stately and still beau
tiful woman, on whom the hand of Time
had fallen so lightly that but for the silver
threads which were woven amid her braid
ed locks, she might have seemed proof
against his power. A bright fire blazed in
the ample hearth, and, as the evening
closed in, the fiickering light of the burn
ing brands alone illuminated the chamber,
while in the red glow the old pictures upon
the wall seemed to CLEAN out like living
faces. But the lady's brow was dark, and
her eye was troubled-the flush of anger
was upon her cheek, and pride-the an
guished pride of outraged atfection-ruled
her heart.
I will not forgive her" said she at length,
raising her hand and looking sternly at the
portrait of a fair young girl, which hung di-
rectly before her, and speaking in that low,
utterance of thought. II will not take back
to my heart and home the undutiful and un-
grateful child who has thus trampled upon
my affections. She has chosen her own path,
and she must now pursue it wherever it may
lead. Anything else l could have borne
but to think that the cherished, the indulged,
the idoliZed object of my love-the Young
ling of my tlock-she who alone remained to
me when the inexorable grave, or marriage
that lesser death to filial atfection-had rob-
bed me of all my other children-that she
should have forgotten the mother who would
have died for her-that she should have pre-
ferred strangers love to the life. long ten
derness which had watched over her in
fancy-that she should plight the bridal VOW
without parents blessing-nay, even tram
pie upon mothers heart ere her steps could
approach the altar-no-no-it cannot be
forgiven! She has left me to my loneliness
she has deceived my trust-she has we'd
ded the lover of her choice, and now let her
bide the destiny she has chosen. Hence
forth she is as stranger to my home and
my affections"
flowers beside her which stole upon the SEN
ses of the Lady Margaret, as she ceased
speaking, and state, buried in profound
thought, in her quantity carved and cush-
ioned chair? Or was it the tanning of some
angel-wing, which in mercy to the stricken
heart of the proud mother, lulled her into a
calm, deep trance, wherein, freed from the
clogging weight of earthly passions. her
soul might look upon the past, and learn a
lesson of forbearance? Her eyes closed
her brow relaxed its frown-her hand fell
senseless at her side, while her spirit awak-
ened to its new perceptions; and while to q
common eye she might have seemed wrapt
in slumber, she was, in truth gazing upon a
we'll remembered vision of the past.
She seemed to be in the same apartment
the same familiar objects were around
her, but lady fairer and paler sat in seat
which had so long been her own, while a
dark, proud man stood in the midst Of the
Chamber with folded arms and threatening
aspect, gazing upon weeping girl who knelt
at the lady's feet. The girls face was bur-
led in her hands, but her slight frame shook
with convulsive emotion, as she listened to
the fierce rebuke of her stern father, and
the keener but gentler remonstrance of her
delicate mother. But while the Lady Mar
garet gazed upon the scene, a dimness, like
that which the breath might leave on a mir
TOR, seemed to pass over it, and as it slowly
faded, another picture appeared before the
watcher. Bending from a low balcony, was
the slight figure of the same weeping girl,
while muff1ed form stood beneath the
easement, in the dim starlight of n sum-
mer's night. In the dewy stiffness of the
quiet hour, words were uttered which scorch
the heart and fire the brain-there was a
murmur of cruel parents, and thwarted love,
and ere the gray dawn broke upon the pair,
the maiden had promised to leave her IA
theirs hall for the arms of the homeless
stranger.
The scene again grew dim, and melted
away like the mist Of morning, but the La
dy Margaret knew that she had looked
again Oh her first temptation, and her proud
heart grew still with dread when she re-
membered that only the treachery of do
mestic had saved her from the disgrace
and misery of a clandestine marriage.
The broken shadows seemed to form
themselves into picture. A beautiful
landscape lay before her-a stately villa
with all its rich array of cultivated fields
and gardens. and the wide extent Of park
scenery, was in the distance-while lovely
dell through which murmureda a rapid fount.
ain stream, occupied the foreground. On
the bank of that noisy rivulet hidden from
a careless eye by the outrageous thicket
stood two persons. The face of the lady
was turned away, but her hands lay tremb-
lingly i'll the clasp of her companion as she
listened in silence to the words which
should never have been uttered.
Your husband loves you not, my adored
Margaret, said the lover-and the words
were uttered in those impassioned tones
which woman never hears with Indifference
''he cares but for the reward of ambition
he tolls for fame, needless of the Joy of re.
ciprocal affection. He satisfies his selisl
heart with the plaudits of the multitude
while you are left to loneliness and neglect
Your loveliness is but as the ornament of his
rank, and he wears you but as the star upor
his breast, to do honor to his naughty sta.
ton. He surrounds you with every luxur,
fnp hIJ Il ha n Innn nr
rich setting around a costly diamond. 1or
are beautiful and can adore his state-yor
are gifted and can do honor to his taste-yol
are the child of rank and wealth, and cal
therefore aid him in his aspiring path tt
distinction. But does his icy nature eve
melt beneath your smiles? Does he low
the sweet and tender woman? Does h,
worship your image with the passionate
tenderness which has filled for year,
the bosom of your humble, your untitled
your almost nameless worshiper? Oh, Mar
garet! you were once mine own-had yol
been but faithful to your early love how diff
ferent had been your destiny! You woult
not have been the neglected mistress O.
such wide domain; you would have worl
no jewels on your brow; your foot would
not have been familiar with palaces; but yo,
would have been the idol of my heart shar
ing my humble but beautiful home in Italy
land of hy-gone glories; you would hav'
been the theme Of your poet lovers song
the star of his destiny, the one sole objec
of his thoughts, the creature of his cares o.
you now are of his dreams. Years of an
guish have gone over me-the fire within
my eye is faded, but my heart is yet un
changed. You have found new objects O
affection-you have poured out the overflow
of your passionate heart upon your uncon
scious children, while /"
The words were suddenly checked upo1
the speakers ips-the voice of the temple
ceased-the lady flung off the hand whicl
clasped her trembling fingers, and GOVERNS
her face, burst into flood of tears. Th