Connecticut western news., 1880-09-22

And how I hated you when Raphael came back, strong and bea1tiful, with that hunger in his eyes which under stood What hours we spent floating on the still river, which was like the picture of dream, while you forgot us among your books, following the flight of comets, weighing the stars and the earth! I was lost Pleiad, the course of which you omitted to reckon. What dusks were those, made eloquent with love and melody what sunsets bloomed for us two what stars trembled into our heaven And that black, gusty night-ah, should hove been happy, happy, but for you, Theodore Throck- morton. All your wealth and love could not purchase happiness for me. I should have been happy with Raphael in Italy-yes, in Hades Why did you not let us go? Why did you come down from the clouds and the starry spaces, wake from your nebulous trance, just to hinder two lovers? Why did you stand like the angel with the flaming sword between us and our paradise? And here, in this lonely prison house, you make good your revenge. I might shriek for help, or a morsel of bread, and none would hear me, shut in by miles of plantation. Alas, I am so faint and worn! I dragged myself to the mirror to-day, and was scared at the ghost which met me. I shall never see it again, for broke the glass into atoms Through the chinks of my blind see the ripe fruits dropping, only to rot upon the ground below, and I am so hungry-dying, dying of starvation in the lap of luxury; all my beauty vanish ing like 8 mist, crumbling into dust Who could have dreamed that Theodore Throckmorton would be revenged on a woman for sin she failed in? If I die tonight I will haunt you; all the years of your life I will haunt you all the eternity after death will-'
 Had the bitter heart ceased beating with this inarticulate cry? "Julia Throckmorton died December 20, 18-," had been written below by Theodore himself.
 While Rose had read, spell bound, 8 thunderstorm had risen in fury, but she had not heeded-one of those sudden flashes of the elements; the ightnings had rent the sky, and had torn up at one stroke a great tree on the avenue. Theodore, returning unexpectedly, hastened through the grounds and house to the library in search of her: she had used to fear the passion of these Southern storms unless folded in his arms but she stood up now and confronted him, holding Julia Throckmorton's diary in her hand, speeches. horror frozen in her eyes, shrinking away from him, con- vulsed and cold.
 You-you," she gasped-" you starved her to death, here in this lonely place and IT loved you! The Throck- mortons are 8 hard race; ;" and she fell fainting into his arms.
 That night the Throckmortons' heir came home but his mother made no re- joicing. She was going over and over that cruel diary; it's words had burned into her memory; she was haunted by Julia's dying reproaches. But as the days multiply she grows stronger, in spite of everything strong enough to use pencil and paper, in which the nurse indulges her, and she writes "When I am better, Theodore, I will go sback to Little Champion. Baby and will go together. Good-by."
 "Little Champion, indeed," said the doctor, who had entered, and taken the pencil and paper from her hands. "What train do you propose to take, Mrs. Throckmorton ?" Then, as the tears start into her eyes, he whispers: "Let me give you something quieting. Youl husband tells me that you have been reading the diary of Julia Throckmor. ton Theodore saved her from the dis grace of an elopement, but she never forgave him; and, my dear child, he, diary was the diary of mad woman"
 "And she did not die of starvation Do you mean to tell me that Theodore loved and cherished her as he promis ed?'
 "Yes, she died of starvation. Sht eluded the vigilance of her keepers, ant starved herself to death in her frenzy She died at the asylum, not in this lone ly place, this prison p-house, and I at
 tended her."