Year: 1860

| VOWS of truth to her alone which sooner or later
she wakes to find are secretly but constantly
| broken, leaving her no redress no balm of heal
| ing, no equivalent for the fires of jealousy such
fuel kindes in woman's breast, transferring her
| whole nature into one of doubt and distrust and
leaving her but desolated temple burned down
by the very lamp she placed upon its altar to
ilumine it.


/ HE is dangerous man. Col. Dale said, as he
proceeded homeward with his wife. There are
many simple hearts such a preacher might move
to destruction. He has the gift of natural elo-
quenee without the softening touch of education.
Words strung upon straws, instead of clear and
capable Judgment; but none the less calculated to
Y peryert those who mistake words for thoughts. /
shall take steps to have his preaching stopped in
this district


He did make the attempt; but there was foot
hold enough for one, the preacher said at his next
meeting, who asked of man no bulded ehapels er
earpeted asles in which to explain the True Word.
Like his people, he trusted to a mghtier architect
than man for shelter; and ON every hilltop and
every vale he found the trees bidding him trembling
welcome to their shades, and the green turf bid
ding him with thousand tongues to go forth into
all the world and preach the Gospel unto every
creature. And to preach THE GosPEI,' he said,





"iust such temples as these did God erect-not
hemmed in by walls or barred by doors, but open
to every creature within hearing of the speakers
voice." @44. &
4 During his presence in the neighborhood Col
Dale was unexpectedly called away from home
He expected to be gone several weeks, and after
reaching an adjacent town telegraphed home to
have his case of pistols forwarded him at once,
he did not deem it safe to travel through that part
| of the country where lay his projected route,
armed. '.They are in my room,H the dispatch
said, "npon the table,


| my room" to Fanny, meant but one chamber,
the threshold of which she never yet had crossed.
Had the dispatch read our room, her hand had
never touched the forbidden lock- As it was
eager to obey her husbands order, she flew up
stairs, paused q moment at the little dark door,
found it unlocked and entered, Instead of the con-
fusion she had been led to anticipate, everything
was in perfect order. All plain, to be sure,
as the furniture of hernit's CELL and there was
anchoritish air about it which struck one as the
odor Of sanctity. Fanny's foot fell lighter as she
approached the table and opened what she sup
posed to be the case containing the pistols. In
stead, it proved to be small escritoire.


Her first glance fell on the miniature Of a beautf-
full girl--far SURPRISING herself in lovliness-and
which did not need the words in raised text on its
frame to show it was Madeline Lyle-the same face
which, devoid Of color, slept on her marble bed in
the cemetery. There was a tress of dark curling
hair, a tiny gold ring, wthered rose, and numer-
ons packets of letters. With these lay some lines
in her husbands handwriting; dated, it was true,
some months before his marriage with her. but
breathing of devotion death could not quench and
of first love as the lamp which goeth not out by
night or by day, but lights the mortal up to the
homes Of the immortal.


Dispatching servant to look elsewhere for the |
pistols she sat down and examined these tries one
by one. Then she rose and looked at the books. I
Volumes evidently every one Of which had been |
read at the same time by two The margins were |
filled with pencelings by her husband and by some
other more delicate hand. Then comes portfolio
of fdrawings, each signed with the initials NJ L.


Here then does my husband come thought
Fanny, shutting me out from his presence and
his heart while he yields himself up to that first
love which, had / but known he had experienced,
would have left him free from such an incumbranee
as myself. Alas! that my first love went out to
one who had already given his to another Am
a wife, when do not wholly possess my husbands
affections?n Bitterly she wept. Then came fits
of jealous anger, succeeded by sense of having |
been deceived-of being a dupe to a man who, un
able to give again any depth of affection had |
craved selfish nature the sacrifice of anothers
Every fit of abstraction, every moment of absence,
was now accounted for; and, giving herself up 10
the demon Of jealousy which was struggling to gain
possession of her, Fanny went out through that
door, and closed it upon the last moment Of happi-
ness, Of home, of true womanhood she was ever to
know again in this world.


CHAPTER III.


It was evening as Col. Dale rode slowly an the
avenue toward his house. No lights shone in the
gentle voice bade him welcome. The
porter who opened the gate looked sadly at him,
and the very flowers, with their closed petals,
seemed to greet him with covered faces.


'.What has happened? ?'' he asked of one of the
servants. Where is your mistress?


f She went away sr.p


= Where?n


There's letter in the library maybe that will |
tell sr--it came some days after she went away


With the slow step of one who walks in the dark |
and breads at every advancing pace to strike
against some suspected object, Col. Dale took the
lamp from his servants hand and proceeded to the |
library alsne.


There was letter, but its snperscrpton proved |
it was not from his wite-he did not open it, but |



went from room to room, searching for the ex /
pected ,nissive At last he stood at the door of |
his private cabinet. Slowly he crossed its thresh I
hold In his absence lie had not struggled in vain |
He had torn out the old love root and branch from
his soul, and had come home feeling he could look
upon the marble face in the cemetery, the minia |
tnre in his escritoire without pang. For the first
time he felt he could clasp his wife to his heart
tell her all his suilerings and assure her she was
now sole possessor Of the ttuest and best IKE I
of his life, the love of his matured manhood As
stood a moment in the door of the room where so 1
many times he had indulged his memories and i is
grets, his eye caught sight OF a little note sealed I
and folded on his table "Ah!' - he said she left I
there, where might find it among these bachelor
comforts used to extoll to her. She has no doubt
wondered what could charm me in this barren
chamber


He lifted the note, sat down his lamp, and read: /
Harvey, you have never loved me. Why did /
you not tell me your heart, like the apple Of So.
DOM was but fair to the sight, ashes to the taste.
might have forgiven once, and still loved on: /
but


The grief that will speak,


Whispers the o9fanght heart and bids Ii break


The care with which you guarded your secret |
prOyeS how precious ii was to vou Teannnf sha,o /