Year: 1863

. . |


l might have prevented it had arous
ed myself to treat him with the kindnes


and cordislity which is husbands due


but did not feel the necessity Of exer


ton. / had fooled myself to believe ths
I my sway was supreme, and that before al
else l would be preferred. I did no
question as to his long absences, and wber
the midnight would toll. and he came not


| would attribute the delay to the cares


and responsibilities Of business.


1t was many months ere the old feel


ing for Howard Pen,.am had died out OF
my heart. and it was only the excitement
of my daily life that made existence tole.
rable. l knew that l was not happy
knew that worldly grandeur had not
brought the coveted delight, yet the step
had taken could not be recalled and
when visions of what might have been
would arise before me, would bury my
face and weep. And those tears--I have
sometimes thought they had the power
to wash away portion of my guilt


had been wife Two years. and then
l awoke one morn to find myself PENN
less, and alone. My husbanc had left me
in my pride and arrogance. never more
to return, taking with him the little hap.
py being whose childlike prettiness and
simplicity he preferred to the GOODNESS
and stately elegance Of beautiful wife.
He now had sinned; yet was it not my
fault?--would Heaven hold me guiltless?


The blow was severe one to me, and
for months was pro'traled upon bed
Of sickness, unconscious most Of the time
of the suffering l endured; but arose at
last, wiser, sadder woman Ny beauty
and my fortune both were gone; little
cottage, with its coarse, plain furniture,
was all that was left me OF the grandeur
and magnifcence which l had forfeited
love and happiness to obtain. Nine years
| lived alone, and then one day heard
that the husbsnd who had deserted me
was dead--that he had been summoned
before the Great Tribunal, there to an.
sWer for the sins done in this life PED.


Then it was l again met Howard Per-
ham. Still in the prime of manhood, more
noble, more handsome than when we had
parted years before. Need l say that one
glance from those dear eyes brought
back the old love sweeping through my
hears


Oh how l longed to throw myself
upon his breast, confess my sin and my
unworthiness, and know that in his heart
too the old feeling was not dead.


He came often to the cottage--kind,
gentle, considerate, as of old; yet there
was no demonstration of affection, no
look or sign to tell me that the past was
not forgotten. Alas! too soon | knew
he had no love to give, and these visits
were prompted by feeling of pity for
my loneliness. He, himself, told me Of his
dwelling long and ardently
upon the purity and gentleness of the
sweet girl he had chosen for his bride.
She was not beautiful he said; yet she
possessed gifts rarer, and to him far more
that times heavy fingers
night never mar. Was that to remind
ne of my departed charms? No; he was ,
90 kind to wish to add pang to an al ,
esdy breaking heart. !
I saw them married. and then knew =
hat for me life had in it no happiness;
hat must remain as l had ever been, |;
solated and alone. i p. ...sl 'n q
Yes it is: nearly done. My failing
ealth, tells me that my end is nigh, and
hat shall soon go down into that quiet
ONE "where the wicked cease from Ii
and the weary are at rest" \


-. h


Sp1pf4 aEfiisrp1lYnfy |.