"TILL DEATH US DO PART."

Patea Mail, Volume IX, Issue 1120, 3 December 1883, Page 4

"TILL DEATH US DO PART."

LITERATURE.

(Coniinuedj Sure' never did a couple under more promising auspices S T’uey had a pretty homestead 1 of their own — ' it was Emma’s, not his—amid a small colony of other pretty, homesteads, and they had between them a handsome competency, and there was pleasant society around ; and life was as delight-

ful as a morning dream. A child was horn to them, hut it died. That brought sorrow. No other child came, and time went on. And here some lines that I . iaet with in a periodical in youthful days occur to me. I don’t know whoso they are. It , I knew then I have forgotten :

“ Alas, that early' love should fly, That friendship's self should fadc_ and die ; And glad hearts pine with cankering fears, And starry eyes grow -dim with tears; For years arc sad and',withered things, And sorrow lingers, and joy has .wings.; And falsehood steals into sunny bp\v*-rs, And Time's dull footstep treads on flowers, And the waters of life flow deep and fast, And they bear to the sorrowful grave at last.”

Why should the Hi es be put in here ? >•> Because they just express the altered '•■ condition of things that fell upon Hnra- •• •phrey ' GiirboneV. They grew - estranged from; dne another, hardly knowing how, oV why . •■HeSitid.shc. no longer .c ued tpjdease him, herTiVisband ; she said he liked other wives better tlran Tier—that ho gave them all his attention and gave her none. And again time went on.

Several times had the May violets opened'their blue eyes/n the mossy dells since that lovely day when he and she had-vowed to love and cherish each other until death did them part; seven tftnes the May-dew-drops had made the gi-eeh meadows all aglow with sparkles; and seven limes the sweet spring flowers had laded beneath the scorching heat of summer. Ah, Jf violets had been the only things that had died out in those seven years ! It was May again now. Bnt it brought no cherished bridal flowers to Humphrey Carbone! and his wile, no clasping of hands, no fulfillment of love’s glorious prophecy. Estrangement had but deepened, and they were parting in pride and anger. Tired- with the state of affairs at home—the unbending coldness; the resentful tones, the cruel bickerings in which both indulged—Captain Cnrboncl Las got placed on Tull service again. He was going ont to be shot at, if fate so willed ; for we were at war now.

* The day of departure - dawned; and they parted with bitter words. Heaven 'arid their own hearts knew,bow much or hoWiliiUo.thoy ■suffered ; there was- no

ontward sign of- it. People, who had ceased, to wonder .at the suspected n estrangement; between Captain' and Mrs it Carbo.nel/ said" to one another that it.was '-brave of him to go ont vdlnntarily to the 1 " wars.' He went off with an indifferent

’''cdflntenahce and a jaunty air; and she ./.stayed, behind ..equally- jaunty, equally indifferent. drr> ■■■ v- :■=

One year passed bn. f Emma Carbonel, began to feel lonely, to sicken bf her unsatisfactory life. Bit by bit she had grown, to see' that she and Humphrey had been bnt foolish, both of them, the one as much as the other.. Did he feel the' sarrie ? . It; ; ridght bo. Yet their letters continued,to,he of the scantiest

.. s :and coldest.,--- :;--b ; Another year-idragged itself on, and then she made no pretence; of; keeping ' -np the 1 farce* of resentment to her btvn heart. Time, generally speaking, shows

,np our past ;rnislako;s jin; their true colours, Emtua ..Carbonel longed.; for ~,hor husband to •. come rhome, ~,sheT ;, grew ' feverishly, impatient :;tWhe t. reconciled:. ci ! Marianft in tlie Moated Grange was hj ’ favorite:fendifig of hors just now—■' ‘ T ‘ “ She said : ‘ I ani a weaiy, weary, \ He eometh not;’ she said : .......» 1

Ho;cotnefh not, arid aTI is dreary-^ I would tbatlbvere dead I’ ” Humphrey Onrbonel came not'. Nothing" bame hut'thh-details of the fighting-;;; wars and rpmors of wars. ■ May wnE- in .again'; May; Mrs Carbonel sat at her window in the

twilighttpf a chilly, drizzling day. The gloom without.,; harmonized with the gloom , Andfiyet, hardly so; Yhie-rain might be cold, dreary, dispirit.ving, but it was nothing as compared with n' the desolation of her heart. • Childless i'.and worse than widoWed ! ..;,She,;had 'i,boped; ah,l for a year or two now, lhat Humphrey's *old love for her might

-overrule his pride and bitterness, and prompt him to write to her a word of tender regret for their conduct’ to one another.. But he did not. She- was

feeling it' all to her heart’s core, this

miserable evening; unavailing remorse lay- heavily upon her ; she 'wished she could-die and end it. No sign of reconciliation had passed since they parted in pride and anger ; not a word of repentance on either side had crossed the dreary gulf that flowed between them. •Words of another poet, dead and gone, •floated through her mind ns she sat. Night and day, lately, they had seemed to haunt it. “Alas! they had been friends in youth— But whispering tongues can poison truth, And constancy lives in realms above. r And life is thorny, and youth is vain ; And to be wroth with one we love, Doth work like madness in the brain.” Should she go mad ? There came moments: when she feared she should, if this state of things continued. A week ago there had been some talk in the papers that the war would, in all probability, soon be over. Then Humphrey would come home again. Her thoughts turned to this phase ; she began to dwell npon it, and what it would involve to him and to her. Presently she lost herself in fond anticipations, realizing it all as in a picture. Somehow she felt a strange nearness to him, as if ho were coming thou; were almost there. She heard the rain beating against the windows, and she glanced to see that the fire in the grate was bright when ho came in. She gazed boy’ond the house gates down the road in the gathering gloom, almost, almost expect- 1

ihg to sec him approach/as she used to see him in the days .gone by. She had been wretchedly lonely so dong now v and- she wanted to hear 'his footstep in the hall, to feel his caressing' hand biv. her sunny' hair, end id ~ hear his bright viords, ‘ Good-evening, Emma, my dear !’ fit did not seem strange to her that this should happen, or that she was expecting it, though she had never once had this feeling through all these separated years. It did not seem marvelous that he should thus come from beyond seas without notice. Had he opened the door and stood there by her side, she would not have been startled or surprised, or at-all wondered at it. The bewilder-ment-wrought by long-continued sorrow, had stolen over her senses. 1

But.Humphrey did not come. Only, instead, the postman came in at the gate, .and knocked at the door, Me-

chariically she wonderodwhy he Was so late this evening. She heard the servant who answered the knock say the same to the man.

‘ Yes, it’s late,’ he answered. ‘ A mail from the war is in, yon see, and it brought a good many letters.’ • (To be continued.)