I noticed one evening that he did not seem as cheerful as usual, and, with a feeling of self-reproach, asked if he was ill. "No, not ill," he said, "only a little sad; it is the anniversary of Amelia's death." I withdrew my hand from his brow, as if a serpent had suddenly fastened upon it; but in a moment checked my emotion, and when he proposed going to the library, followed him without a word. He paused at the piano, and asked me to play for him, saying that it was a long time since he had heard me sing. The ballad he selected had been arranged by her, and I doubted not that he had often listened to its melody from her lips; yet, though I touched the keys mechanically, there was no discord of voice or instrument to betray me. Herbert thanked me as I concluded, but he was lost in thought, and the commendation seemed given from habit, rather than impulse. "Did you ever notice the peculiar beauty of Amelia's mouth?" he asked at length,-the piano was directly before the pictures,-"It was certainly the most beautiful mouth that I ever saw; and that hand, could any thing be more faultless? But no copy could equal the original." He did not think the remark unkind, for, as I have said, I had ever encouraged him to speak freely of her. Perhaps he wondered why I did not respond as usual; but my mood was most bitter. Those who in my girlhood flattered me, had said my mouth was by far the most beautiful feature of my face. I knew well that it was so. Even Herbert, in our first acquaintance, had marked the haughty curve of the crimson lips; and the first time that my hand ever rested in his own, he spoke of its delicacy, and laughingly said the slender fingers were far too aristocratic for an American maiden. Yet now her mouth was perfect; her hand incomparable. I endured that night, agony such as I had never befo imagined. I watched Herbert's features, as their outline was revealed in the calm moonlight, an my heart was filled with a wild love, that would have been thought madness, by natures less enthusiastic than my own. I recalled the hour when first we met, the thrill of deep emotion with which I had heard his first loving word,—the kiss that sealed my promise to be his wife,—the long, long days of happiness that followed, when we rode, sat, or walked together, I, as if in a dream of delight, trying to comprehend the extent of the treasure which had been so suddenly bestowed upon me. But now all was changed. I was beginning to realize that, "Man full speedily forgets the idol of a day." Such was the fatal blindness which enshrouded me. My husband stirred in his slumber, and a pleasant smile stole over his face, as his outstretched hand fell heavily upon my own. The slight pressure increased my misery. I longed to waken him with a kiss, to fold my arms about his neck, and pray him to love me again; pleading, oh! so earnestly, that he would teach me how to be worthy of him. If I could but tell him all-all, that distressed me! But something restrained me, even as my mouth bent to his,-prompted me to leave his side,- a feeling that it was no longer my place. Again I left the room in the hush of midnight, and ere I was aware whither my footsteps tended, stood before the picture which had such a strange power to embitter my existence. - Oh! the mocking smile which played over that face! It wreathed the pale lips, and gleamed from those glorious eyes! A look of scorn and derision which said, "I am avenged!" My husband's eyes looked down coldly and reprovingly, and there as I turned again towards Amelia, I saw the hand which grasped the scarf, slowly extended from the picture; it pointed in mockery towards me, and yet I could r‡ turn from the hated sight. I stood as if turned to stone,—how long, I knew not. I remember that the moonlight grew misty and indistinct, that the pictures swam before me, while a thousand voices seemed ringing in my Then the agony which I endured struggled for utterance in a low deep moan, and I fell senseless upon the thick carpet. ears. I was roused from a death-like slumber by a kiss so gentle, that at first I thought it the touch of the spring breeze, which wandered through the room. But the breeze in its murmurings never whispered such loving words as those which fell upon my ear, when I languidly unclosed my eyes, and looked towards the light. Everything was strange, yet familiar; and it was many moments ere I could recollect how or where, that terrible stupor had fallen upon me. This was my own room, I was leaning upon the breast of my husband, and when I wondered that morning had come so quickly, he told me that my unconsciousness had lasted for many days. I had left the room in the delirium of a violent fear; the extended hand was a phantom which it had conjured up. Missing me from his side, Herbert was startled by the moan and heavy fall, and had found me lying, as if dead, before the portrait. For hours they were unable to restore suspended animation, but at length the swoon gave place to wild ravings, in which I revealed the secret of my heart. I have told you that my life was a dream of delight when I first knew that Herbert wooed me for his wife; that the weeks following our marriage had sped as if winged; but never have I known such calm, unalloyed happiness, as in the long, bright days of my convalescence, when Herbert was more tender, more devoted, than ever before. The spring flowers which he brought to cheer my room, seemed doubly fragrant-the poems which he read acquired a new charm, as he "Lent to the rhyme of the poet The beauty of his voice." and there I first learned, from his gentle praises and commendations, that self-appreciation is a duty devolving upon all. "Every grace is not combined in one," he said, and told me that the sincere and truthful love which I had given him, endeared me as much as a powerful intellect and peerless beauty would have done. That as yet I knew not the strength of my own character, and in its development under his careful scrutiny and counsel, he had promised himself much pleasure. Above all, I learned that man's heart may know a second love, pure and devoted, while the first is unforgotten. My error had been the too frequent one of judging the emotions of another by my own. left my room, when the flush of health was once more restored to my cheek, a better and a wiser woman; I had attained that perfect love, which casteth out fear. I The recess is now entirely filled, for my own portrait is added to the two first placed there. My husband grows daily more proud of the little daughter, who sits upon his knee, and points with her dimpled hand to "good papa"-and her "two mammas"-for she insists that she has claim to both. It was but last evening, that Herbert looked up, with an odd smile playing about his fine mouth, and asked me if I did not think our little Amelia grew daily more like the portrait that had once been my terror; I replied in the affirmative, without one feeling of jealousy, for I should be proud to think that she resembled, both in mind and person, the first wife of my husband. TREES IN THE CITY. 'TIS beautiful to see a forest stand, Brave with its moss-grown monarchs, and the pride Of foliage dense, to which the south wind bland Comes with a kiss, as lover to his bride; To watch the light grow fainter, as it streams Through arching aisles, where branches interlace, Where sombre pines rise o'er the shadowy gleams. Of silver birch, trembling with modest grace. But they who dwell beside the stream and hill, We covet most the rarest things of earth. But rising from the dust of busy streets, These forest children gladden many hearts; Above the glare which stifling walls throw back, Through quivering leaves we see the soft blue skies, Then happier tread the dull, unvaried track. |
