Year: 1860




was not very much surprised to receive
one morning, letter from nay niece Mrs
Lorimer, although she had never written to me
since her marriage-nearly four years ago
nor did the contents Of her letter excite much
astOnishmcnt in my mind, different as it was
from the undertaking accounts | had always
received Of her happiness and prosperity. l
was unSpeakably grieved, to be sure but |
had always my doubts about the siacerity Of
her protestationS, for knew the vain, proud
heart of the girl, and that to own herself dis
appointed would seem to her humiliation and
defeat.


did not overlook the remembrance that
her sisters had visited her, aud brought back
glowing accounts Of her felicity but, then,
fine Ioasc and large establishment made uD
their estimate of a happy marriage and so
long as everything seemed smooth and courte
ous between the pair, they would never look
further or deeper. Uowbeit, here was Isa-
befS counter statement


Dear Aunt Sarah" ran the letter, will
you leave home, and come and stay with US
for time ? The house is quiet the summer
is in its glory and it will be such pleasure to
me. Do come in spite of obstacles, for | am
unhapPy, aud want to consult you. To whom
else can | look ?'


So, though felt it rather hard to leave my
pretty cottage aud flower garden, at the pleas
aptest season Of the year, and still more so, to
break of my old ways and habits Of life,
which fitted me there like a glove, | resolved
to lose no time in ebeying ESabeI's summons,
for | was very anxious about her. | thought
some conjugal crisis mast have occurred, or
she would never have dropped the veil |
knew Mr. Lorimer so slightly that bad lit
tie ground for speculation, SO far as he was
personally concerned but knew that Isabel
had married-from respect, she said !; and |
could not help remembering how. even with
the solemn Duptial vows in her ear, and enun-
ciated, too. with a tremuious passion, she had
tGrned her graceful head from altaC aud priest
to mark the ample flow of her satin Grapery
and costly veil. Some might have called it a
charming aaircte; bat it did not seem so to
me, nor was | one of those who fondled and
praised her-her husband among the rest
for the clear calm tones in which she had SpO-
ken her own responses. / did not like It
there was depth enough in Isabers nature to
have made her forget her bridal suit, and to
have stihed in whispers her bellike voice, had
her heart been true to her words. When |
looked from her husbands flushed face and
eyes, which gowed when they fell upOn her,
10 her cool check and smiling lips, L made an
old womanS inward augury of i'll Hot
love soon grows cold, f" said to myself and
she, poor child, is not in love at ALL God
grant the fame may never break out of
bounds J" 70 speak truly, the last was my
present fear. 1 was not afraid of any outward
compromise of Isabers duty, for relied upon
the relf-reStraint of her character and her
pride of position; but had she discovered that
she was capable of loving as she never had
loved, and that the object of that love was not
her husband THAT blesSedness once posi-
bic, was now in sight, but out of reach forever?
Then, again, came back the consolatory re-
Election, that she would never have owned it
pride and shame would have sent her silent to
the grave and my heart aehed involuntariIy
as | conceived that burning grief deyouring
her il secret


AT all events, would go. The very same
day | received Isabels letter saw my arrange
ments complete and the evening post carried
her letter stating at what hour they might
send to meet me at at their railway station
Then put Gu my bonnet, and made the best
Of my way to the city, to tell her family Of
my visit, and receive their comD.issions.


1t was suItry evening in the beginning of
July, and the heat, dust, and turmoil of the
metropolis struck me oppressVely. The cross
of st. Paul's famed in the rays of the blazing
sun the gay display of summer fashions in
fhe adjacent windows looked tawdry and