Year: 1873

nat AAlEA


She had become very white an
shadowy again, but she turned on Ii
2 almost iiercely in her unbelief.


D They are going 10 the tIeIter 10
e night" said I. you shall COM
z with me, and see them for yourself.
; l could not Very well afford tn
4 thing, but | thought it best Tor her
: and so We sent for tickets, and had ;
! carriage and went.


l am sure | forgot what the play
{ was; nor do | believe that Rosa saw
E anything in all the bright scene saw,
the two faces OF which We occasional
I ~ caught glimpse, half shrOuded =:
] they were behind the draperies Of tbs
r box. But We stood in the lobby
;, while our hack was coming up, auC
We waited there for them a. they
came out. They came with the
2 crowd, and passed close beside us; b,
lifted his hands to draw the white fur
: with its rose velvet Innings, clOsel
! about her-a common action enough
but it was no common look on hi.


face that accompanied it, as he benz
his head to hear her murmured word
1t was look impassioned and intense


a look of longing and adoring and OF
. rapture. No place, indeed, for such a
look, but Randolph was in the mood


that regards neither time nor place.


Rosa clasped my arm and held il like
. wise; her weight was heavy on it;
and 40 they passed on, with eyes on


ly for each other, proud, rich, beauti-
fui, satisfied; and when they had gone
beckoned an assistant, and he car
: ried my fainting Rosa for me to the
: carriage, and there / tore her veil of,
and we drove home. "Put him out
of your heart, dear" / said ale
! never deserved a place in such a


shrine. And don't delude yourself


with the idea that he is being sacri-
, feed in marrying that woman; she is
good enough for him. Nor with the
hope that he cannot marry her with
out first coming to you; he has forgot
ton that you exist" And after that


the little thing went about her duties,


whittier and thinner every day, but al
ways busy, with q feverish desire to
forget herself; and we saw no tears,


and we heard no sighs-only knew


that, young as she was, the lovely


world and happy life had lost their


hold, and she would sooner die than


live.


Well, well, that wedding was a


gorgeous pageant. HortensIa,s own


Eome was so far away, and the sea-


son so inclement, that 1t was judged


best for her to be married where she


was; and the affair was pushed on


eagerly by Randolph, and she was


nothing lOath. The church was filled


with women in splendid toilets and


their escorts; the altar was q blaze of


radiance, with tier on tier of burning


waX-lights, whose luster fell OH the


blossoms underneath--On the chan
eel rails wreathed with eXOtics, the
steps strewn with roses and jasmines
and lilies; the young acOlytes in
their white and purple robes swung


golden censers; the organ rolled Out
its tumultuOus melody; clusters Of
airily clad maidens floated up the
aisle with officers in all the glancing
of gold lace and plumes-fOr Ran
dOlph had been a West Point man
himself, and his friends were around
him now. The bride came in alone,
with blooming little children holding
up the wonderful work of her satin
train; the groom waited for her at
the altar; the lace-wrapped priest met
them. And when they turned about
and faced us and stepped down, L
think many hearts must have beat
more quickly at the sight of such ma
jesty and splendOr, such beauty and
passion, as they embodied. But Rosa
was not there-surely she could hard
ly have looked on such scene aud
lived.


A glorious pageant; but it had its
reverse. The family coach OF the
HOwes, reserved for the bride, had
met with an accident just before COM
ing to the church, and it had been
necessary to replace it by an addition
al one from the livery-a new and
handsome clarence but its last Occu-
pant had been an infected person,
who, if he were conscious of what he
did, had committed murder in using
is- On her bridal Journey the bride
dropped and sickened F; a fortnight
from that night of splendid revelry
her illness was declared-a week OF
wild delirIum, and her body, the flesh
falling from it, was rolled in a tarred
sheet and carried in the rude small
pox hearse at midnight to its grave.


AS for Randolph, | don't know
what became of him then. There
were all sorts of rumOrs-rumOrs of
insanity, rumors of riotous dissipa-
ton, rumOrs of wandering life in
the blackest gloom. He might well
have been craZed, plunging from such
warmth and bliss into such ice-cOld
night and despair. He might well
have been whirled off into any sin,
seeing all the glory of that rosy flesh
change as instantly to loathsomeness
and corruption as if the ground had
failed beneath his feet seeing the
nothingness of things CO earth, unable
vet to comprehend the things beyond.
ONLY one rumor out of the whole was
a certain truth-he did not come back.
His mother and sisters might console
themselves with their work .; with the
recOllections of their pageant ; with
the understanding that HOrtensia's
great fortune was now in their own
family; with the knowledge that
there was one man in the world who,
when age came to him, would have
no hearth to warm him by, no child,
no wife at any rate they did not
have Randolph to console themselves
with. Whether it ever occurred to
him or not that it was to them in any
degree that he owed his misery-that
they had brought the splendid tempt
ress to him, and had so insnared him
that the quiet home, the gentle wife,
the peacefuI life he had been pronis-
ing himself had become impossible be-
fore the intOxicatiOn with which they
had alIured him-I can not say. Tru-
Iv. whatever the fault in their case
NAV have been, he had nobody but
himself, his own senses, his own
weakness, to blame. He might re-
member HOrtensia now as some dark
star remembers the flash ana glory Of
a comets vaporOus luster that once
wrapped il and passed away, some
star that at its inmost center still feels
the drawing of the sun. 1t was seven
wears before any one here saw Ran
doIph Howe again, and then he came
home a white-haired man-white-
haired, but his dark eyebrows still
cast their shadow over his dark eyes,
and the dark mustache seemed darker
by the cheek Drowned with the touch
ofthe suns OfSOuthern seas.


These seven years had brought their
changes to others too. They changed
me from a middle-aged woman to an
old One-a garruiOuS Olu one you see.
They changed the frequenters of our
house to others. And they changed
Rosa from the little step-daughter TO
the mistress of the house, for her
step-mother had died, after long pain
and illness, and had left her burden of
care and children for ROsa's shOul-
ders to bear.


Well, it is wonderful to see some
times how much the most fragile can
endure. Rosa could hardly have
looked more delicate now than she
used to do, but she had refined away
to something almost spiritual. The
happy ripping laugh was gone, in
deed; no one ever heard her laugh,
but no one ever saw her cry; gen
tie smile played about her face like
reflected light-the smile that comes
from trying to make Others happy.
She had filled her step-mother's place
better than it had ever been filled be-
fore; had prospered so as to warrant
her taking a better house, and that
house was kept to marvel, not like
a boarding house, but like a home.
Her little sisters she had sent away
to school; for the oldest boy she had
secured a place in a bank, and the