The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1881-06-24
ONLY ONE FAULT.

You may see it in Greenwood GENE
terry. A splendid tombstone with a
womans name upon it. Not Ruth Holly
though that is the name under which
you shall know her-but q prouder
name, and one you may have heard
Flowers grow about her tomb, and the
turf lies softly over it. You would
scarcely guess her life and its sad end
rs you stood there. Rather would you
fancy that love and tenderness sur
rounded one over whom such piles of
Bculptured marble rears itself from her
birth unto her death.
It is story such as I seldom write
this life of hers-one that can not be
ended by happy reunions and the sweet
sound of marriage bells; but there are
too many such stories in the world to
be quietly passed over, haply there be
any warning in them. The lives Of others
are, if we read them rightly, the best
sermons ever preached, and this of Ruth
Holly's is only too true. Yet it began
very sweetly, like some old pastoral
poem. She loved and was beloved again,
and the man she loved had only one
fault, He was young, he was brave, he
was witty, he was handsome, he was
generous; his love was devotion, his
friendship no lukewarm thing of words;
he had great talent and great power.
His eloquence had thrilled many an au-
dience worth the thrilling. What he
wrote touched thes tothe very quick.
He was an amateur painter and musician
and everywhere was loved and honored
and admired. He had only one fault in
the world-he drank too much wine at
times. When he did so he turned, so
Bnid convivial friends, into very demi-
god. It was wrong, but not SO bad as
might have been, and he would SOW his
wild oats some day, they said, loving
him Us his friends all loved him; and so
Ruth thought Sweet, loving, beautiful
Ruth, to whom he lad plighted his troth
and w6oed in verse and song and with
his most eloquent eyes long before he
put his passion into words; but SO did
not think Ruth Holly's father. This
one fault of Edward Holly's over
Swallowed his virtue in his eyes, and
he refused him his daughters hand,
giving him the reason why plainly and
not kindly.
You'll be drunkard yet, Ned
Holly" said the old man, shaking his
bead, earnestly. eve seen men Of
genius go the same road before. I've
often said I'd rather have no talent in
my family, since it seems to lead 80
surely to dissipation. My sons are not too
brilliant to be sober men, thank heaven,
and as for my daughter only a sober
man shall have her for wife; you'd
break her heart, Ned Holly"
So the dashing man of letters felt
himself insulted and retorted hotly, and
the two were enemies.
Ruth suffered bitterly. She loved her
father, and she loved Edward. To disobev
her parent, or to break her lovers heart,
seemed the only choice offered her. She
he'd other lovers, she had seen much
society, and had been introduced to the
highest circles in France as well as in
England, but amongst all the men she
had known none pleased her as Edward
dolly did. Not what one styles an in
Sellectual woman herself, she reverenced
intellect, and her affections were in
tense The struggle in her heart was
terrible.
She met with her lover by stealth,
against her fathers will, but for long
while she resented his entreaties to
marry him in defiance of her fathers
refusal At last angered by her per-
Sistence in obedience, Edward accused
aeE of fearing to share the fortunes of
one comparatively poor-one who must
carve his own way up life's steep hill
without assistance. The unmerited re-
proach sunk deeply into her warm heart,
and In sudden impulse of tenderness
and sympathy she gave him the promise
ne had so long sought in vain. They
were married that evening, and before
morning were upon their way to far
Off city, where Edward, sanguine and
conscious of power, believed that he
should make for himself a name and
position OF which any woman might be
proud, To her father Ruth wrote
long letter, imploring his forgiveness,
but the answer crushed all hope within
her bosom.
las you now SOW, so must you reap"
were the words her father wrote 81
have no longer a daughter, i" and Ruth
knew that henceforth for she had been
motherless for years. she had in all the
world only the husband for whom she
had sacrificed fortune, and what is worth
far more, the tender protection of
father.
In those early days Edward did his
best to make amends for all, and she
was so proud of him and so fond of him
that she soon forgot to grieve.
She heard his name uttered in praise
by all. She knew that he had but to
keep steadily on, to mount to the proud
est seat in fame's high temple. and for
year she had no fear of his faltering.
Now and then feverish something in
his voice and manner, strange light in
hls eyes, a greater flow of eloquence in
his talk, a more passionate demonstra-
tlon of love for her than usual, told that
he was under the influence of wine, but
the fact only seemed to enhance his power
offascination. Never was he 10 brilliant,
never so handsome. Almost could Ruth
have laughed at the sermons preached
by the temperance folks of the harm sure
to follow wine-drinking.
If the story could end here, the true
story of Ruth Holly's life. ii would be
almost a happy one, but alas, the sunny
slope adown which it seemed so easy to
slide, daily grew darker as the years flew
on. How they began to tell her the fate
before her, Ruth hardly knew.
A little flush of shame came first when
his step was unsteady and his voice too
loud. Then grieved tear or two when
he was unreasonable. Then sorrow
that kept her heart aching night and
day, for the man who first won inspir-
alton from the glass now lost it in its
depths; lectures to be delivered were not
given to the expectant public because
''of the illness of the lecturer"
Ruth knew what that illness meant.
and tried to hide it. Literary work was
neglected also. Money was lost that
might have been easily won. Debts
grew and credits lessened, the handsome
suite of rooms was exchanged for one
quite shabby. Ruth's dress became
poverty stricken, her husband was ont