Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1882-07-17
A Little Club Affair.

Isabel walked the parlor of her
suite. 1t was far past midnight, and |
the great hotel was nearly silent.
Up and down, with a supple, leonine
motion, peculiar to her, and foot
fall of velvet, turning her black eyes
restlessly, and whirling about as if
the air stirred in the passage thus
she had moved for hours.
Was she a heroine in distress?
Was she q woman of gifts evolving
some creation from her sleepless
brain? am sorry to bring her down
to earth-she was fit subject for
romance-but it must be confessed,
Isabel was only waiting for her hus-
band, who was out late. Had she
been sensible, practical woman,
she had wrapped the drapery of her
couch about her and laid down to
sweet dreams long ago. But she had
only been a wife a year. Her hus-
band was her single tie, she lived her
life in him.
Isabel was beautiful. Her flesh
was like marble lighted with fire her
hands, her eyes, her lips, the poise
of her head, her undulating motion,
had an elegance of their own. But
when God lent her the gift of lowell
ness, He added thereto the gift of
supersensitiveness, through which so
many are graded to melancholy and
madness. She had been the ward of
a bachelor uncle, who felt he did his
whole duty if he visited her twice a
year at her convent, and answered
her sorrowful black eyes with mods
and winks Of approval. When she
was ready to enter the world, the
charge of a young lady niece so tax
ed his freedom, and, by consequence,
his spirits, that he laid down and
died. He hadn't meddled in matri-
money. Why should his autumnal
youth be spoiled by a foster-daugh-
ter? The problem shoveled him into
the grave.
Then Burnham appeared to Isabel.
His family and hers had been on
friendly terms whole generations.
He had just returned from long
tour, and had the air of other CONT
nents around him, which fascinated
her senses. Afterwards, his best
grew upon her-his generous nature,
his pure intention, his mellow
thought, the whole fine structure of
his manhood. She knew little of the
world: she made him her standard.
SO that Burnham came a wooing and
made her sure that all his happiness
was in her, she staked herself, and
was blessed in proportion to her in
tense sensibility.
When Isabel became 4 wife, she
did not degrade her hero. Her very
estimate kept hinfup to her. Proud
and tender of her, he walked to rect
itude, and softly, before her, many
moons and never meant to deviate.
But
(The chapter recording Solomon S
fall begins with but
But Burnham was society man
he had such jovial friends, who form
ed such jovial and select club. The
"Pickwick Club" ran over with mon
ey, and leisure, and graceful gaiety.
To be 'sPickwickian, was to be
recognized as tip-top globule of the
city cream. Youngsters of families
looked forward to rising into this
club much as the young Roman an
ticipated the toga of manhood. II
welded an absurdly strong influence.
The ''Pickwickians' met in elegant
apartments, drank imported wine, at
tended by perfect and silent service.
and rallied at the hard-worked, sad
, visaged world. Young husbands
were considered great conquests
among them, and they importuned
! Burnham so much to join them, that
5 he good-naturedly took to running
| in" From taking friendly cigar
and glass, he went on to extending
his stays till the fascination of the
club ran through all his veins.
: Isabel knew nothing of clubs. She
l supposed they might be assemblages
of gentlemen with something of {
t literary character, such as Addison
y pictures. She saw in her minds eye
sober citizens grouped about tables
! reading, perhaps smoking, and dis
: cussing wisdom. She waited for hel
husband because she was restless
when he was away, not because she
J had any righteous tongue in pickle
: for him.
Feet shuffied in the hall. She ben
0 her neck; her whole body croucheC
to listen. They drew nearer, zig
e zaging they paused at the door
It and the being outside, evidently al
u animal without hands, began to rul
: and tumble and growl for entrance.
q Isabel threw the door open; whel
: person in a very bad hat, with hi:
d whole apparel somewhat on one side
e fell at her feet. 1t was stage seen,
i but terribly real with one actor. Is
= abel started back, raising and wiring
# ing her hands and staring at her hus
,e band like maniac. Mr.. Burnhan
e gathered himself up and took obser
V vations. Some drunken men ar
|. abusive; others maudlin; others jol