The Abilene reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1883-1888, 1883-09-06

ClcbI anu liz w dS dS
as. a morning dream.
A child was born to them, but it
died. That brought sorrow. No other
child came, and time went on. And
here some lines that met with in pc
riodical in youthful days occur to me.
l don't know whose they are. If l
knew then have forgotten:
'Alas, that early love should fly,
That friendships self should fade and die;
| And glad hearts pine with cankering fears,
And starry eyes grow dim with tearsi
| For years are sad and withered things,
And sorrow fingers. and JOY has wings;
| And falsehOOd steals into sunny bowers,
And Times dull fOotStep treads on flowers.
And the waters of life flow deep and fast,
And they bear to the sorrOwful grave at last"
Why should the lines be put in here?
Because they just express the altered
condition of things that fell upon
Humphrey and Emma Carbonel. They
grew eStranged from one another. hard
" knowing how, or why. He said she
no longer cared to please him, her hus-
band; she said he liked other wives bet
ter than her-that he gave them all his
attention and gave her none. And
again time went on.
Seven times had the May violets
opened their blue eyes in the messy
| dells since that lovely day when he and
she had vowed to love and cherish each
other until death did them part; seven
times the May dew-drOpS had made the
green meadows all aglow with sparkles;
and seven times the sweet spring flow
ers had faded beneath the scOrching
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
Carb0nel 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, who
IisSNl NCstoNt W hOLlNitI slO lilC
! estrangement between Captain and
Mrs. Carbonel, said to one another that
it was brave of him to 60 out volun-
tarily to the wars. Marlbrouck
'en-va-t-en-guerre!" So he went off
with an Indifferent countenance and
iaunty air; and she stayed behind
equally jaunty, equally Indifferent.
One year passed on. Emma Car
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.
Did he feel the same? 1t might be.
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 a favorite read
ing of hers just now
''She said: Il am weary, weary,
He cometh not, she said:
He cometh not, and all is dreary-
would that i were deadn"
b Humphrey Carbonel came not.
Nothing came but the details of the
fighting; wars, and rumOrS of wars.
May was i'll again; another May.
Mrs. Carbonel sat at her window in the
twilight of chilly, drizzling day. The
gloom without harmonized with the
gloom within. And yet, 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, ah! for a 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 all to her hearts core this miser-
able evening; unavailing remorse lay
heavily upon her; she wished she could
die and end it. No sign of reconciIia-
ton had passed since they parted in
pride and anger; not 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.
" Alas! 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 mad? 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-
tons, realizing it all as in a picture. |
Somehow she felt 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
tho catherine TlOOm almost oI911oef ay