Year: 1874

sorrow which came to me five years De
fore, and whose memory had never de-
parted, had made of me nerveless,
purposeless misanthrope. Yielding to
the solicitations of friends, who thought
a fit companion might restore me to the
world. l solicited the hand Of Eunice
Morgan, who had known me from early
childhood, and she gave me not only
herself, but restored 10 me my own self,
purified, elevated, and Strengthened
With the tact, affection, and character
of the ideal woman in whom We all be-
lieve, she made life sweeter to me than
the lost life had bemoaned; and the
sacrifice of her noble self which she had
made for me seemed to fill her own ex-
istence with constant JOY.


A few years before while was return
ing from the Continental tour which fol-
lowed my graduation, L met and wor-
shipped Anita Lozatos, beautiful Gu
BAN Ny position in society was unex-
ceptional, / was rich, and pressed my
suit with all of the ardor of warm
Young heart and a fluent tongue. So
was speedily accepted1by Anita and
her parents, and we were soon married.
In one Of the charming villages near
New York built for my. bride an ex-
quisife villa in noble grove Of old
chestnut trees, and furnished u wien ev-
erything which her desire aud caPEiees
suggested. was still a Student, and an
ardent one, but there were few hours in
the day in which did not for few mo-
ments drop my books and seek and adore
my beautiful, my gIorious wife.


Slowly 7 learnedrthe sad fact that An
ita fondness for me was only passion
ate, fitful outburst, instead of constant
affection. had never in the cooler mo-
ments of my eourtship expected her to
sympathize with my studious tastes, but
when / comprehended that even. my
companionship was distasteful to her,
and that / received her smiles only in
exchange for such pleasures as | pur-
chased for her, became very unhap-
py man. Trying to gain her affection,
if she were capable of bestsowing such
a sentiment, | abandoned my stud
les entirely. devoted my entire time
to the duty of pleasing my wife. spent
without stint the money which had been
left me by a rich father, filled the
house with company, | purchased city
house in which we passed the winter,
heart could do to win the love of the
woman held so dear


And | imagined, poor fool, that | was
succeeding. The painstaking and anxi-
ETY. Of several days devoted to procuring
her some new pleasure were fully repaid
by the parting of her ripe lips, the light
darting into her glorious eyes, and the
claspings of her beautiful arms, which
always indicated my success. The tire
somness to me of a large party of peo-
pie who could only dance, drink, and
eat was always relieved when, after the
last guest had departed, Anita would
draw me down to her and kiss me doz-
EN- times, and tell me that | was dear
delightful old boy.


At the close of one of the most bril-.
liant entertainments / had ever given
strolled restlessly through the drawing
rooms, the verandas, and the conservato-
ry, looking for my darling. She had
been unusually beautiful throughout the
evening, and when had caught her eye
it had been so full of feeling and tender
ness that had longed for the Ismomen
to arrive when we might be alone, and
might for the thousandth time renew
my declarations of affection. She haC
gone suddenly to her rooms, the servant
said, and had left word she would return
in a moment.


1 continued my aimless strolling
when, entering the library, I found OIL
the open volume / had last been reading
slip of paper bearing line in Anita
delicate hand writing. 1t read:


81 cannot love you, for you are to-
great for poor little me. / have foun,
one l can love. God forgive me an,
bless you"


I fell, and knew no more until day
afterward when emerged from the dc
lirium of fever Against my will
recovered, but my spirits, my high aim
and purposes, it seemed had lost fol
ever. l attempted TO recommence th
long course Of reading and study I ha
determined upon when 1 left colleg
but found myself devoid of aim or er
.ergy.


For several years led desolate lif
never hearing of Anita, but holding he
constantly and tenderly in my heart
spite of her faithlessness. One day thel
appeared at my villa rough lookin
foreigner, who said he was a sailor, an
had been handsomely paid to bring n
tidings of the death of my wife, VII
had been washed overheard from Il
deck in the Mediterranean. He coul
tell me nothing more about her, exec
that she was travelling alone at the tin
of the accident, and had left among h
papers not enclosing alarge bank-no
to pay for intelligence being sent me


the event of her sudden death at ar
time.


/ informed two or three faithfi
friends of the sad fate of my wife, al
they, who had been unwearied in the
endeavors to rally me, insisted that
ought to marry again. At first utter
refused to listen to the suggestion, b
so sklllful and untiring were they th
they finally prevailed upon me to rec
ter society. Then, with an apology,
offered to Eunice Morgan the renal
of my former self, and she accepted


as sweetiy as if had been in all of I
cheerfulness of untroubled youth.


How she unmade and made me l ca


not tell, for l was scarcely concious


what was taking place. But SO fully {


she sympatize with all of my old hol


Il r