The clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1883-1888, 1886-12-08
A REAL ROMANCE ;
Or,
THE LOVE STORY
Myra Clark Gaines!
BY MRS. ANN S. STEPHENS.
Written for The New York Waverly. and pub
lished in The CLARIos by permission.

Written for The New York waverly and pub
Ished in The CLARIos by permission.
| CHAPTER II
TzIF1Es. light as air
Are, to the Jealous eondrmations strong
As proofs Of holy wTlt.-OTHELL0.
1t was spring-time in the South-that
rich, bright season, more luxurious in
foliage ard profuse in fragrance than
our warm and mellow summers ever are.
The orange trees were all in flower; car
nations blushed warm and glowing upon
| the garden banks; the grass was mottled
| with tiuy blossoms, gorgeous and sweet
as the air they breathed. All around
the house which Zulima occupied was
hedged in with honeysuckles and prairie
roses, that sheltered the grounds and
leaped up here and there among the
magnolia trees, lseing them together in
festoons and arches of fantastic beauty.
Poor, poor Zulimai With this beau
tiful paradise to wander in, with the
sweet air, the warm sky, and all that
world of flowers, how unhappy she was !!
Alone-utterly alone.-her child slept
in the bosom of another; her husband
had been monthsaway IN the far North !;
an unacknowledged wife, bereaved
parent, how could she choose but weep? {?
Weeks had gone by and no letter
reached her; at first her husband had
written every day; and with his letters,
eloquent of love, she could not be wholly
miserable; thinking of him she some
times forgot to mourn for her child.
| At first she had been greatly dis
tressed by the impediments which the
| flight of DeGrainges had multiplied
| against the acknowledgment of her mar
riage, but this event had in no degree
shaken the holy trust which that young
heart placed in the object of her love.
Singularly unambitious in her desires,
! but impetuous in feeling, she only felt
the continued secrecy regarding her
marriage, because it separated her from
the babe she had learned to love so in
| tensely.
True, it served as a restraint upon her
husband, and frequently deprived her
of his presence, but with her imagina-
| tive nature, the slight romance of this
| privacy only served to keep her afiec-
tions more vivid and her fancy more
restless. She was all impulse, all feel
| ing, and sometimes, like a Gagged bird,
she grew wild and restive under the re-
straints that necessity had placed upon
| her.
Weeks went on, one after another,
and now Zuima grew wild with vague
| fear. Why was he silent? where could
| he be wandering thus to forget her so
completely? Her nights were sleepless;
her eyes grew bright and wild with
feverish anxiety. That young heart
was in every way prepared for the poison
which was to be poured into it drop by
drop, till jealousy, that most fierce and
bitter of all the passions, should break
forth in its might and change her whole
being.
Zulima had gone forth alone, not
into the garden to sigh among its will
derness of blossoms, but away, with an
aching heart and pale forehead, to suffer
among the wild hooks of the neighbor-
ing hollows. Here nature started to
| life in harsher beauty, and sent forth
her sweets with sort of rude wayward
ness, forming a contrast to the voluptu-
Gus air and over cultivation that closed
in her home, as it were, from the rough
and true things OF the world.
Another day was 70 be passed in that
agony of impatience which none but
those of a highly imaginative nature
can ever dream ola weary night had
been spent, the morning had come
surely, surely that day must bring a
letter from the absent one.
| The air of her chamber-that chamber
where her child had slept in her bosom,
where he had been so often-she would
not wait there; all the associations were
so vivid, they goaded her on to keener
impatience. She could not draw a deep
breath in that room thinking of him
and 1t.
So, as have said, ZuIima stole forth
and wandered away where all was wild
as her own feelings, and thousand
times more tranquil Ross had promised
her to return very early from the city
that day, when he hoped-the villain
could not look into her eyes as he said
it-when he hoped to bring letter
that would make his sweet guest smile
again.
Zulima knew place near the high
way which led to the city, and yet shell
tered from any traveller that might pass,
| by the broken banks of rivulet Thick
trees fell over it, and in some places the
water was completely embowered by
their branches She could hear the
tread of a horse from the spot, should
one pass up from the city; and so, with
cheek that kindled and a heart that
leaped at each sound, the young creature
sat down to wait.
To wait oh, how hard a task for her
untamed spirit, her eager Wishes Never
until her marriage with Mr.. Clark had
Zulima's vital nature been fully aroused :;
never before had she been capable of
the exquisite JOY, the intense suffering
that marked every stage of her attach
ment to that lofty and singular man.
As she sat then by the lonely brock,
| the young creature gave herself up to a
reverie that embraced all her life, for
| life with hor seemed to have commenced
only since she had met him. She drew
forth his letters and read them again
and again; tears blinded her sometimes,
but she swept them away with her
fingers, and read on, kissing here and
there line that spoke most eloquently
to her heart. She came to the last
letter; that was more ardent in its Ian
| guage, and warmer in its expressions of
love, than any of the others had been.
Why was this the last? What had
happened to check pen so eloquent, to
chill heart so warm? Was he dead T?
This was Zulima's thought; she never
doubted his faith or distrusted his
honor for single moment. When the
serpent jealousy reaches a heart like
hers, it comes with a fling, striking his
fang suddenly and at once Zulima was
not jealous, but that fierce pain lay
coiled close by her heart, ready to make
a leap that should envenom her whole
being.
More than once Zulima had started
from her seat at some slight sound,
which proved to be only bird rising
from the oyerhanging bank, or rabbit
leaping across the thick sward, and
thus, between hope and despondency.
dreams and thoughts of the stern real.
the time crept by till noon.
A wooden bridge scarcely lifted above
the water, spanned the brook only few
yards from where Zulima was sitting.
Here the bank fell abruptly, giving
descent to pretty cascade half swept
by sheet of pendant ow-branches.
Their delicate shadows, broken with
long CLEANS of sunshine falling aslant
the water, told Zulima that the time of
Ross return was fast drawing near.
Now she became cruelty restless. Like
-1. II :