The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1883-08-31

erS had faded beneath the ScOrchin0
heat of summer. All, if violets had
been the only things that had died out
in those seven years.
1t was May again now. But it brought
no cherished bridal flowers to Humphrey
Carbonel and his wife, no clasping of
hands, no fulfillment OF loves glorious
prophecy. Enlargement had but deep
ened, and they were parting in pride and
anger. Tired with the state Of affairs
at home the unbending GOODNESS, the
resentful tones, the cruel chickering's in
which both indulged Captain Carbonel
had got placed on full service again.
He was going out to be shot at, if fate
so willed; for we were at war now.
The day of departure dawned, and
they parted with bitter words. Heaven
and their own hearts knew how much
or how little they suffered; there was
no outward sign of it. People, wko
had ceased to wonder at the suspected
enlargement between Captain and
Mrs. Carbonel, said to one another that
it was brave Of him to 60 out Volun-
tarily to the wars MarIbrouck
s'en-va-t-en-guerrel" So he went off
with an Indifferent countenance and
jaunty air; and she stayed behind
equally jaunty, equally Indifferent.
One year passed on. Emma Gar
bonel began to feel lonely, to sicken of
her unsatisfactory life. Bit by bit she
had grown to see that she and
| Humphrey had been but foolish, both
of them, the one as much as the other.
| hid ho fool ha II ,so.h{ H.
Yet their letters continued to be of the
scantiest and coolest.
Another year dragged itself on, and
then she made no pretense of keeping
up the farce of resentment to
her own heart Time, generally
speaking, shows up our past
mistakes in their true colors
Emma Carbonel longed for her husband
to come home, she grew feverishly i'm
| patient to be reconciled. Mariana in
the Moated Grange was favorite read
ing of hers just now
"She said: Il am a weary, weary,
He cometh not, she said:
He cometh not, and all is dreary-
would that / were deadr"
Humphrey Carbonel came not.
Nothing came but the details of the
fighting; wars, and rumors Of wars.
May was in again; another May.
Mrs. Carbonel sat at her window in the
twilight of chilly, drilling day The
gloom without harmonized with the
gloom within. And vet, hardly so. The
rain might be cold, dreary, dispiriting,
but it was nothing as compared with
the desolation of her heart. Childless,
and worse than widowed! She had
hoped, ali! for year or two now, that
Humphreys old love for her might
override his pride and bitterness, and
prompt him to write to her word of
tender regret for their conduct to one
another. But he did not. She was
feeling it alto herheart's core this miser-
able evening; unavailing remorse lay
heavily upon her; she wished she could
die and end it. No sign of reconcilia-
ton had passed since they parted in
pride and anger; not a word of repent
ance on either side had crossed the
dreary gulf that flowed between them.
Words of another poet, dead and gone,
floated through her mind as she sat.
Night and day lately they had seemed
| to haunt it.
Alasl they had been friends in youth
But whispering tongues can poison truth,
And constancy lives in realms above
And life is thorny, and youth is vain:
And to be wrath with one we love-
Doth work like madness in the BRAIN"
Should she 90 madP There came mo-
ments when she feared she should if
this state of things continued. A week
ago there had been some talk in the pa
pers that the war would, in all proba-
bility, soon be over. Then Humphrey
would come home again.
Her thoughts turned to this phase;
she began to dwell upon it, and what it
would involve to him and to her. Pres
emily she lost herself in fond anticipa-
tions, realizing it all as in picture.
Somehow she felt a strange nearness to
him, as if he were coming then, were
almost there. She heard the rain beat
ing against the windows, and she glanced
to see that the fire in the crate was
bright when he came in. She gazed be-
yond the house gates down the road in
the gathering gloom, almost, almost ex-
pecting to see him approach, as she
| used to see him in the DAYS gone by.
She had been wretchedly lonely so long
now; and she wanted to hear his foot
step in the hall, to feel his caressing
hand on her sunny hair, and to hear his
bright words, '.Good evening, Emma,
my dear!" 1t did not seem strange to
her that this should happen, or that she
was expecting it, though she had never
once had this feeling through all these
separated years. IT did not seem mar
velous that he should come thus from
beyond seas without notice. Had he
opened the door and stood there by her
side she would not have felt startled or
! surprised, or at all wondered at it. The
bewilderment wrought by long-contin-
ued sorrow has stolen over her senses.
But Humphrey did not come. Only,
instead, the postman came in at the
gate, and knocked at the door. Me-
chemically she wondered why he was so
late this evening. She heard the SER
want who answered the knock say the
same to the man.
"Yes, it's late," he answered. ga
mail from the war is in, you see; and it
brought a good many LETTERS
The woman came in with a thick let
| ter and the lights. Her mistress took
it with nervous haste. A thick letter,
and from her husband until now his
letters had been of the thinnest and
slightest. The writing-was it Hum
phrey'sP Why. yes, it was his; but
what could make it look so shakyp She
opened it carefully, and some Enclosures
fell out. A fond letter or two of hers
written to him after their marriage, dur
ing temporary separation; a curl of
her sunny hair; plain gold ring which
he had worn ever since his wedding
day; and q little folded note with few
trembling lines in it,
II am dying. Emma. Fell to-day in
battle. God forgive us our folly, my
precious wife! believe we loved one
another all the while. There is another
Life, my dear one. / shall be waiting
for you there. Humphrey
Emma Carbonel did not cry, did not
faint. She lay back in low, large
chair, her meek hands clasped in sup
plication, praying to be pardoned for
all her hard wickedness to her dead
husband, feebly beseeching God, In His
mercy, to take her to that better life.
The next day the papers published
| n LIST of tha FALLEN Eiftnnn Sold;arc