The daily Cairo bulletin. (Cairo, Ill.) 1878-1???, 1881-08-14
MY MARRIAGE.
BY THE AUTHOR OF "PENELopE, ETC.
lCnntinned From Last SunhaY'a DAliyl.

And | DO not know that i mucn saIe'--
If one thing goes, the rest may as well 80
too.
am sore at heart and very miserable to-
day. All day long 1t has been raining--a
heavy downpour, with gusts Of wind that
bring down the yellow leaves They lie in
sodden heaps now, and the trees seem sud
denly to have become bare.
1t is late In the afternoon, and u watery
yellow CLEAN shines out Of the west like =
shadowy smile after exceedingly bitter
tears. The old garden is a very wilder
ness. The rain and the wind have played
rare havoc in 1t to-day; and the unsecured
roses trail their few struggling blossoms in
the paths, where they lie in pools Of mud.
The wind has laid them low; while all the
apples seem TO have come down with
rush, and lie broken and bruised OH the
ground Altogether the poor old garden
has battered, disordered appearance, and
the flowers look as il the wind had spun
them round and round, for there are little
trenches round every plant; and stocks,
and oyergrown geranums lie wrecked and
broken on the soaking earth.
walk dsmally up end down, holding
GID my dress from contact with the soak
ing box-edging. am very unhappy, very
vretched; and only great effort keeps
back the tears. IL is not cheerful work,
contemplating the wreck and damage from
the storm last night, and the pitiless rain
all day; but have come away to be alone
on this last afternoon at the old home,
which somehow, is not like the old home
any longer; and / have awakened to the
bitter knowledge that am not necessary
TO my relatives happiness They are all
perfectly happy without me-even Bee
and counted and grudged every hour
while was away, and refused TO take
pleasure in sights and sounds they could
not share. For their sakes married Hum
phrey Carstairs; now they all think am
the only member Of the family who ought
to be happy--that my lot is one to be en-
We'd have come back to them for y
while, and find my place filed, my iden-
tity thing of the past. Humphreys love
cannot and does not make up for what
have lost; and | wish with all my heart
and soul that was Madgie Alison again.
Tomorrow shall 60 away, my husband at
my side, and papa and mamma will say,
home and Lena and Bee, and even Dora
and Isabel, will think and talk of Car.
stairs as an enchanted palace which they
will see some day. In the meantime their
lives will roll on in even smoothness: and
/ may break my heart in the utter discon-
tent of my new existence, II I will.
have nothingin common with my broth.
ers and sisters now. Before | was three
days at home found that out Madgie,
in her character of Mrs. Caistairs, was a
person to be treated with respect, not fa-
miliarity' They have even ,sS Psy lakss-us
forgotten jests that do not raise smile
now. try to think that these alone are
Che causes that make my heart swell and
send the tears into my eyes; tut there is
something deeper still that is rising in pas
sionate cutlery within me--the knowledge
that ! have made my life sacrifice in
vain.
Something has happened to-day which,
If 1t had taken place few months ago,
would have left no need Of this marriage
of mine, Papa has bcen left legacy---an
additional two hundred a year, The let
ter came this morning, and the whole
house has been in pleasing state Of ex-
citement ever since--all except me. am
glad for my relatives sakes, but miserably
remorscful for my own. If that two hun
dred year had been bcqueathed a few
months ago, | need never have married
Humphrey. II that distant cousin of pa.
pas had died only little sooner! This
thought has left me white and miserable,
and have come out into the old garden to
fight out fight with myself, in which |
have come out only second best.
"This has been most fortunate year."
Lena said not an hour ago--"tirst your
marriage, Madgic, and now this legacy"
l smiled and forced back bitter cry
And do not think even Humphrey guess.
ed my thoughts to-day.
SHOW pale you are Madgie" he said
once. "fou have worn yourself out with
this packing"
lie would be somewhat amazed IL hs
could see me now in the sole apology of a
summer house our garden boasts, sitting
on the rlckety seat, my face In my hands,
my whole body shakcY with a storm of con.
vulsiye passionate weeping, every sob more
heart-broken and miserable than the prev.
Gus one. | have broken down at last, and
the binding tears rair through my fingers
thick and fast. How am | to ivep And
tomorrow | am going away. So | sit and
weep and cry to my hearts content, till
my head aches---and every breath is long.
drawn sob. /, Madgie, to be like this,
when am the fortunate member, the en-.
Wy Of my sisters! 10 is strange indeed;
but the heart knows its own bitterness.
SO lost am TO outward sights and sounds
that am deaf to an approaching footstep
and blind to the sudden appearance of
tall figure ! do not know that for the
last three minutes my husband has been
standing, grave and sorrowiill, contemplate
ing his wife weeping bitter passionate
Tears; and i start as something passes
,lose to my bowed head and hear his
voice
"My child do you feel 1t 30 much rs
.hisy"
4 lit my wet face and look at him
Ihrongh my falling tears, but no words
cone from my conyulsively.twitching lips.
i,e taxes his seat beside me in the mouldy
sumuier-house.
lou must not cry like this,' he says
:. IAs, IN grave husky voice. ssMadpic.
~ IL utterly selfish Of me, but ear AMI
~ In my heart 70 wish this news had ncvsr
come" "~u no'er
"The news Of the legacy, know ~..,
he means; and the hot blood rush.. y, ".as
temples, and my face goes back To thu "a
shelter OF my hands. WV
at IL hard on you," he goes on quit.,y.
"Poor little Madgiepv