The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1897-09-23
Basil's First Wife.
BY ANNA SHIELDS.
OBSERVATION-DISCLOSURES,

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WHEN Basil wrote to me from
w Virginia that he was married,
and asked if he might bring his wife
to my house, his home from infancy,
or if he had better provide another one
for her, answered at once:
"Come here and try it. If you are
happy, stay; if not, it will be time
enough to seek new home after test
ing the old one"
But the letter gave me sore pain.
Basil was my charge from the time
his parents died and left him, q baby,
inheriting large fortune, to my care.
His mother was my twin sister, and I
was a childless widow when she died,
SO it will be readily understood I gave
the boy a true mothers love. We live
Mt Stony Hill, my husbands legacy to
me, a spot Astounding in natures beau
ties, in spite of it's harsh name, and
we did not want for society, being only
two miles from a fourishing city.
It was natural Basil should marry;
he was %, had studied profession,
though he devoted his time to painting
in an amateur fashion that promised
no great results; was wealthy, hand
some and thorough gentleman by
birth and EDUCATION.
But I had hoped he would marry one
of the ladies l knew; some one, per-
haps, loved already. His letter was
full of praise of his wife-but who was
she? He had found her when on a
sketching trip through Virginia, in a
wild part of the country. Her mother
was lying dead, and two old negroes
were filling the air with bowls and
walls.
did not care that the girl was poor.
Basil was rich, and would have, in addi-
ton to his fathers fortune, all / had
to leave. He had no need to seek a
wealthy bride. But 1 was afraid he
had married for beauty only. Not one
word could I find, in most careful
perusal, in praise of the brides intel
lect, accomplishments or worth. Only
her beauty was the theme of her hus-
bands praise.
When~I saw.her scarcely wondered
that the face of Basil's wife had ex-
cited such enthusiasm. They came
home in June, at early morning, and
drove from the station to the house,
where, just after sunrise, went out
upon the porch to meet them.
From the carriage there sprang a
little figure dressed in all the colors
of the rainbow, bedecked with jewels
utterly out of place upon a traveller
as were the gay silk dress and feather
trimmed hat.
But the face under the hat! How
can I describe it? A perfect oval, with
features of classic regularity, but with
out any of the GOODNESS that usually
accompanies classic beauty. For the
dark complexion, pure, clear olive, was
crimson-tinted on lips and cheeks, the
eyes, large, brilliant eyes, were yet
soft and velvety, and the black hair was
glossy and luxuriant.
Every moment the expression wa:
changing in those glorious eyes, the
sensitive mouth. Child-like pleasure
in the new home, a gentle Difference
to my years and position, were sue
ceeded by petulance and restless vi
vacity.
She was a will-o'-the-wisp, butter
fly, wasp. loved her in two minutes
and my love never lessened. But ever
then I knew Basil had made fata
mistake.
do, Aunt Martha, take some super
vision Of her wardrobe" he said to me
.She was married in calico dress ant
a sun-bonnet, and her feet were bare
OF course I gave her money, and slit
bought what she pleased. don't un
derstand women's dress, but hers Sc
my teeth on edge"
And just as he spoke she flashed in
She never seemed to me to walk, NOV
ing with peculiar, darling movemen
that threatened total humiliation II
my nerves until I Demonstrations
to it.
"You are ashamed of mel" she cried
"You are! You are!"
'Ellen!" he said, gently, his fac
flushing; II can never be ashamed o
my wife!"
He kissed her gravely and went out
but she tore up and down the room lik
a Gagged bird.
HE is ashamed of me-he isl" sh
repeated, angry tears raining over he
hot cheeks. 81 saw it on the cars.
saw it at the hotels. I see it here. HOY
did 1 know he would be? He said h
loved me, and II would have died TO
him! He praised me--he put me il
his pictures! He asked me to be hi
wife! Twas all alone, and loved him
I married him, but he never asked m
what knew-what could do. He sa,
the log cabin where my mother la
dead! He knew the soldiers burne
down our house, killed my father!
was too young to know the horror of it
am only 16 now. Then when we wer
married and went to the city, he wa
ashamed because he asked me to rea
the newspaper one morning and neve
learned to read. Why didn't he ask m
before we were married. He told N