Smyrna times., 1895-07-03
Aunt Marcia's First Marriage.
BY SUSAN HUBBARD MARTIN.

Mrs. w yman smiled, ana ran uer
jeweled fingers through the soft, fluffy
hair of the pretty girl nearest her.
There were three girls in all, and they
had come to make Aunt Marcia and
Uncle Max visit. Bright, lovely
maids they were, aud as full OF life as a
summer morn is of sunshine. The day
was dark, and the sun persistently re-
fused to show its bright mead; but the
room in which they sat was full of
summer warmth. There were easy
chairs everywhere, a table piled with
the newest books and latest magazines,
beautiful pictures, soft carpets and an
open piano. 1t was a very pleasant
spot, and in the three girls opinion
there was nothing so sweet or so lovely
in the room as Aunt Marcia herself
her hands were so white and soft, her
eyes so kind and bright, and her smile
50 sweet.
Mrs. Wyman was one ui those Wo-
men who believe in making the most
of what nature has given them, and
there was nothing to hinder her from
doing so, for She was rich, gay and
happy. Her uim, dainty little figure
was always tastefully gowned, her
luxuriant auburn hair carefully ar
ranged, and Uncle Max, the dearest
and best of hus5ands, took care that
she wanted for nothing. She always
said she was a happy woman.
Few peop'e knew that Max Wyman
was her second husband, and that her
early life had not been as bright and
| prosperous as it was now. For Uncle
| Max was fastidiOus man, and objected
to turning over that page Of his wife's
| history for public Inspection. Aunt
| MarciG herself did not care; but, like a
! wise woman. she respected her hus-
! bands wishes and never referred to her
past in his presence.
80 you want a story, do you, my
girls?" she said thoughtfully. How
would You like TO hear Of my early life
/ and my first marriage? Uncle Max
doesu'; like it mentioned, but it may
do you ali gouG, aud aid You in being
careful not to mistake fancy for alice
ton, as SO many girls do.
You know, of course, that / was
orphaned in early childhood. Until
was married | lived with my Uncle
Ralph and his wife They had a large
family OF their own. and 1t must have
[ USCu lIldl 10 nave HCltiC9S Chl4u
thrust upon them. But they never let
me realize this, and Aunt Alice loved
me, really believe, as much as she
did her own daughters.
II grew up happy, careless, inno-
cent child, with no thought of sorrow.
The summer | was seventeen | met
Valentine Steele. a travelling photo
grapher He vas very handsome
man. and singled lne from the other
girls to lavish his attentions upon. de
hung about me constantly. How was
|, a mere child, 10 GnuW that 40 beau
tiful an exterior covered cruel heart
could not, and believed all be told
me. and even fancied | loved him
Uncle Ralph talked to me long and
earnestly when he found | cared for
Valentine, and begged me not to accept
him until 7 knew him better.
In the first place he IS poor man
Marcia he said, and has nothing set
tied to support a wife upon. You can
do better il you wait awhile
i''Gh, uncle, ! hope you don't wan
me to marry fer money! / asked
hOrrifed at such mercenary idea,
No, Marcia; but you can love &
man who is in position to provide
you with the necessaries of life just aS
well as you can love IA selfish fellow
; who takes you from comfortable
home without being able to provide
you with another said my uncle ju
dicially. If Steele really cared for yol
he would not demand such a sacrifice.
Valentine may be poor, but he ha
his business, uncle
"True-when he chooses to work a
it. | haven't seen picture he hai
made, so far. He is not industriou;
enough to suit me. Have care
Marcia, and look before you leap
"But was young and rOmatic, anC
rather cOurted love in a cottage.
, imagined my life would be one Ion,
dream of delight. Valentine hat
2 money enough 10 furnish a modes
2 house comfortably, and secured a po
= sitiOn as assistant to our village photo
9 grapher. So we were married, and m,
, new life began. At first was fairl,
happy; but little by little Valentine
true character revealed itself. He wa
: bad tempered, jealous, idle and tyran
' pical. He soon came to odds with hi
4 employer, and as he would not ar coul
to feel what it was to be really poor.
Zone day he abruptly announced hi
intention of leaving the village; b
- could do better elsewhere. This con
' tingency had never occurred to me
i How could live without my kind re
/. latiOns? But Valentine laughed a
d my tears; he had always been jeal
r Gus of my love for my people, and wa
l. glad to separate us.
: "Well, we left the village, and be
came wanderers on the face of tn
earth. Our small stock of none
melted away. Occasionally my hus
band earned a few dollars, and W
managed to escape actual wan
y Everywhere we vent we ran into deb
s Our furniture was sold bit by bit, an
IL when at last we drIfted to ranch i
Wyoming we had little more than tn
clothes we wore to call our own.
81 shall never forget the day we Sc
tied there. The house stood cellarles
upon the prairie; there was not tre
n not a shrub. to break the dreary m,
, nOtony. Beside our bed and stOV
we had nothing in the way of furntur
| made a couple Of chairs from tw
barrels / found, and tore up an ol
skirt to make curtain for the windoy
Think of it-a girl not yet ninetee
IN banished to q place like that, with NJ
a soul near except husband who.
silence and mOrOseness increased eaC
m day l used to cover my ears, nigl
" after night, to shut out the shr
~ screams of the coyotes, that SCENE
." like 30 many tiends In pursuit OF m
IA. In the hot, windy summer huge rattl
snakes were numerous; nevertheless,
'iiS iS preferred it TO the long, weary winte
ne II wonder, now, how ever endur,
those miserable days. Often we we
- without sufficient food and fuel; OF
by one my pretty gowns wore out, n
to be replaced by new ones. OF n
z relatives l heard nothing; / had
= money for letter postage, and they d
not know where / was. / used to 10,
at myself sometimes, and think of n
once bright, happy face, and oontrs
1t with the one | saw now face fl
of pain and misery, haggard, worn, a
with great shadows beneath the mela
i choly eyes. Every particle of life a
4 brightness was stamped from it.
hands were scanned and hardened wi
the rough work | was compelled to
and the winds and sun had tanned l
skin until looked more like an Ind
~ ~ than white woman. And the wo
- af all WAS that I had No lnua for ,