and delight. As a relation he claimed the privilege of calling often at the parsonage, and even the coldness and reserve of John were not proof against the fascination of his words, and more than once his rich humor brought back the old smile to the lip of Isabel. "Sometimes he would persuade them to join our walks or drives, but this happened rarely, and it was plain that John grew daily more reserved, and sometimes toward Isabel even capricious. One day we planned an excursion to a beautiful sheet of water in the neighborhood, and John's fondness for boating led us to hope that he would join us. But he coldly and peremptorily refused our invitation, and we were about to go on, when my husband, vexed at what he termed his monkish obstinacy, laughingly declared that we would rob him of Isabel. To my surprise he immediately requested her to accompany us, saying, in what seemed to me a bitter tone, that he should be very sorry to have her deprived of any pleasure on his account.' Margaret gaily commended his wisdom, and rang the bell herself to order Isabel's hat and shawl. There was something in his tone that fell coldly on the young wife's heart. She turned hastily away and stood gazing through the open window, while her fingers toyed nervously with the clasp of this bracelet, which she always wore, I did not then know why, though for them it seemed to possess an interest far beyond what its real value would warrant. Perhaps the memories linked with it gave it a kind of talismanic power; but whatever might have been the cause, they evidently viewed it as mysteriously connected with their happiness. "She unclasped and laid it on the table, while she drew on her gloves and arranged her hat and scarf. Peyton took it up, and began a fanciful speculation on the difference between its real value and the price at which her heart held it, probably as the gift of some friend. She smiled faintly and held out her hand to receive it, but he gallantly passed it around her arm and clasped it. As I looked up I caught John's eye. It was only for a moment, but the expression terrified me. It haunted me during the remainder of the day. Could he be jealous of her? Again and again the question came up, and each time my eye sought the sweet, thoughtful face of Isabel for a solution. She was unusually silent and abstracted, and I could not help feeling that the raillery of our companions, on the subject of John's seclusion, pained her. On our way home we were overtaken by a sudden shower. Unfortunately we had sent the carriages home, preferring to return on foot, and as there was no shelter at hand we were obliged to proceed in the rain. When we reached the Hall we were thoroughly drenched. Much against her will, we persuaded Isabel to stop at the Hall and wait for the carriage. We insisted that she must put off her wet dress, and Margaret gaily proposed to supply her with a fitting costume from the wardrobe of her grandmother. Our younger guests caught her words. They were in high spirits, and resolved to carry out their frolic by dressing in masquerade. The old wardrobes were ransacked-gowns and skirts drawn forth that had not seen the light for fifty years. Isabel put on a rose-colored satin slip that had belonged to her husband's great aunt. It was very becoming to her, and amid the compliments of the gentlemen, she entered the carriage that had been ordered to take her home. "The next day Peyton received letters that required his immediate presence at home, and, much to our regret, departed. Some time after he left John came in. He was very pale, but apparently in high spirits. He talked incessantly, rapidly changing from one topic to another. He laughed with the young ladies, and his whole manner was so unusual that I began to think him insane. At length he turned to Margaret, and said carelessly "Isabel left her bracelet here yesterday. I will take it home if you please.' "Indeed!' she replied,' I have not seen it. It is probably in my room, where she dressed. I will go look for it.' The bracelet was not to be found. Anna, Margaret and myself searched the house thoroughly, but without success. 666 Is she sure she had it when we reached the Hall? She may have lost it at the lake, or during our walk home.' "Oh, she did not lose it,' cried Mary Ashton; 'I saw it on her arm when we turned the avenue. Peyton was speaking to her about it.' A quick flush passed. over John's face. As if to avoid our questions and conjectures, he changed the subject abruptly, and, after a few minutes, withdrew. "What I had seen that day filled me with deep I was certain that John was jealous of concern. his wife. Poor Isabel! I felt that she was innocent and pure as an angel. The next morning we started on a visit to the White Sulphur Springs. We had tried, in vain, to persuade John to join our party. It was nearly three weeks before we saw them again. "When we returned Isabel was suffering from a violent brain-fever. Our old housekeeper, who was a great favorite with John, had been with her most of the time. From her we learned that she was delirious, and that the physicians gave no hope of her recovery. In reply to my eager questions, she said— "I think, madam, the poor lady is dreadfully worried about that bracelet. She raves about it constantly, and seems to think the young ladies know where it is. It is enough to break one's heart to hear her beg them to give it up, and not to drive her mad. Poor lady! She is mad enough now, and Mr. John is not much better. He has hardly eaten or slept since she has been ill. He keeps in his darkened room, where one can hear him pacing the floor all night long. Indeed, if I did not know how fond he was of her, I should think he had been very angry with her for losing it, for she talks wildly of something he has said to her, and begs him not to say it again, for it is breaking her heart.' "Anna and Margaret were wholly unprepared for this. Their coldness and prejudice vanished before this intelligence of Isabel's danger and John's misery. Without staying to change our dresses, we hastened to the parsonage. 66 Somewhat prepared as I was, I could not help starting when John entered the room. Twenty years' experience of the ordinary sorrows of life could not have fixed such traces of misery on his face and form. He pressed our hands in silence, and when your father asked in a whisper, 'Is there no hope, John?' he shook his head, and, leaning over the table, buried his face in his hands. The silence of the room was broken by the entrance of Dr. G. His replies to our questions were guarded. It seemed that he wished to imply hope, though he saw none, and the fact that he gave us permission to see her convinced me that he considered her beyond all earthly aid. Isabel's room opened into a small ante-chamber, and here we left John and my husband, while we entered with the doctor. She was lying with her face toward the wall, speaking rapidly in Italian, while her fingers moved restlessly over the light drapery of the bed. She quickly caught our stealthy footsteps, and with the strength of fever sprang up in the bed and stretching out her arms, exclaimed "Oh, give it back! for God's sake give it back!' "John darted forward and caught her in his arms as she fell back exhausted, and the physician hastily signed for us to leave the room. "We descended to the drawing-room, and sat silently gazing at each other through our tears. In a few moments the physician entered and turning to me, said— "The patient has recognized you, madam, and insists so wildly on seeing you that I have thought it best to humor her. There is not the slightest danger to be apprehended,' he added, seeing me glance inquiringly toward my husband. "Oh, go, by all means, Harriet,' said your father. I will escort the girls home and return for you.' "When I again entered the room, John sat at the foot of the bed, with his face concealed in the drapery, and Isabel's own maid and another attendant were watching at her side. Her bright, restless eye was fixed on the door, and as I approached and leaned over her, a wild gleam broke over her face, and she caught my hand with a strength that seemed to me almost superhuman, as she exclaimed You will get it back for me! I know you will get it! Your eye is soft and your heart is not so cold. Oh, get it back, and we will be so happy again!' "She began to sing an Italian air that I had often heard her sing to John, while they were with us at the Hall, as they sat in the old garden arbor or lingered arm in arm on the terrace in the moonlight. Faint and trembling as it rose from those fever-parched lips, its effect on John was fearful His form shook with suppressed agony, and, springing to his feet, he left the room. "Why do you weep? It is pleasant to die and go to heaven. I thought earth was heaven once; but ah, it grew so cold, so cold!' "I laid my head on her pillow and tried to soothe her, though my voice was choked with tears. She grew more quiet, but still retained my hand in hers, and thus for hours I sat listening to her low, incoherent murmurs in the liquid language of Italy. Late in the evening I returned to the Hall. "The next morning Isabel was no better, and after dinner I received a message from John, requesting my presence at the parsonage. She was wilder than ever, haunted by the idea that they were about to bury her under a mountain of ice. Toward nightfall she grew more quiet, and seeing how closely she watched my slightest movement, I determined to stay by her through the night. At an early hour I dismissed one of the attendants, and the other slept soundly on a couch at the foot of the bed. Isabel had hardly closed her eyes for nearly a week, but toward midnight I was delighted to see the swollen lids close slowly over the sunken orbs, and I scarcely breathed for fear of disturbing her broken slumbers. As I sat watching with awakened hope her slightest movement, I heard a low footfall behind me, and the next instant John stood by my side. I placed my finger on my lip, and pointed to the bed. "He knelt by her side, and gazed long and earnestly on her sunken features. At length he rose and bent low over her, as if he were about to press his lips to hers. But ere they touched, he started as if stung by some bitter thought, and turning hastily left the room. As the hours went on I could hear the sound of his footsteps as he paced the floor of his library below. I felt convinced that my suspicions were correct. Jealousy lay at the foundation of all this misery, but on what grounds I was at a loss to conceive. I determined to know the truth, and waking the attendant, I left her to watch by Isabel, who was now awake but perfectly quiet, while I descended to the library. John was leaning gloomily over the table, and the dim light of the untrimmed lamp made him appear more ghastly than before. He started up as I entered, and attempted to speak, but the words died on his lips. Intuitively catching his meaning from their motion, I replied "No, thank God! She lives! and this short slumber is full of hope! "He sank back on the sofa, slowly repeating the words 'full of hope,' as if they conveyed to him no meaning. "I sat down by his side, and, laying my hand on his arm, said- "You are suffering scarcely less than Isabel, John. It is useless to attempt to conceal from me that the true cause of all this misery lies far beyond the physician's penetration or skill. Even her ravings indicate this, and I know that you are both the victims of some frightful mistake. Do not turn away from me. I have loved her from the first, and for her sake, if not for your own, I entreat you tell me the true cause of all this.' "Do you need to ask, Harriet?' he replied, suddenly removing his hands from his face, and looking at me with a glance that would read my soul. Must I repeat the story of my dishonor and her guilt to one who has suspected, aye, known the truth for months past. Go, go; your words sound like taunts.' "I will not go,' I replied, resolutely, 'until I have vindicated myself and your helpless wife from such black aspersions. You loved her once, and by the memory of that love you shall hear me.' "Loved her once! Woman, would you drive me mad? Can such a frail, feeble thing as you even guess at the strength of that love!' He shook off my hand, arose and paced the floor with rapid strides. speaks? No violation of purity in listening to words and glances of admiration from another; in permitting the familiar approaches of another save her husband? All this you have seen. That bracelet-it was my gift to her on the day of our betrothal, consecrated by a thousand memories and hopes. You saw him clasp it on her arm. Do pure-hearted women permit such things? You know the story of its loss. Why, if she really lost it, did she attempt to conceal the fact from me? Why answer my simple inquiries with such confusion and equivocation? Why add falsehood to dishonor?' "John, for months you have been teaching her to fear you. This is what I have known. You could not be superior to the criticisms that her foreign manners and undisguised affection for you elicited. You became an exacting censor. This is what I have seen. You sought to change her very nature, in order to make her like the cold, stately women around her. She had none but you. She loved you almost to idolatry, and showed it like a pure-minded Italian girl. You repelled her, to make her like others in the land of strangers to which you had brought her. This is what I have seen for months. And when she grew timid and sad, you filled up the measure of wrong by your capricious manners and your unreasonable jealousy. Guilty! you know better! She has not received such familiarities from another. She is pure as an angel!' "I burst into tears. John had remained standing before me, as if astonished at my excitement. He sank to the floor with a deep groan. Frightened, almost wild with excitement, I summoned the servants to his assistance, and went to Isabel. He soon recovered, and wished to be left alone. I too would be alone, and persuaded the girl to lie down in the ante-chamber. "I took my station by Isabel's pillow, and tried to compose my thoughts, but I grew more and more nervous. It seemed as if the heavy misery weighing down those two young hearts had settled on my own. Oh, how I longed for morning! At length I rested my head on the pillow, and tried once more to escape the sense of misery that haunted me. Presently a hand was laid on my head, and a broken voice whispered "God bless you forever, Harriet!" "It was John. His face bore traces of a bitter struggle. I made no reply, but gently withdrawing my hand from beneath Isabel's cheek, resigned my seat to him. He drew her poor, fever-stricken head to his bosom, and covered it with kisses. I flung myself on the couch, and when the morning light awoke me from an uneasy slumber, her head still rested on his bosom, while the kind physician stood by, speaking words of hope and encourage ment. "There was evidently a favorable change in her disease. For two or three days Dr. G. spoke hopefully of her recovery. John hung over her night and day, but I doubt if she ever really recognized him. Sometimes, indeed, it seemed as if his low, fond tones touched some chord as yet undisturbed by disease, and a happy smile would flit over her face, but it was only for a moment. On the third day she began to sink rapidly, and the next Sabbath we followed her to the grave. "John's grief was neither wild nor violent, but every one who looked upon his face felt that it was fearful. His parishioners shook their heads sadly when they saw his blanched hair and bent form, and said that their young pastor was broken-hearted by the death of his beautiful wife,' but none knew how literally true were their words. "Once only did he ever refer to our midnight interview. It was not long after her death, when he applied to be released from his spiritual charge over the parish. "I thought, in my pride, to show them the That bracelet is the one Isabel lost. It must have been taken up unwittingly by some of our guests and thrust into that old pocket. The rush of recollections that the sight of it recalled was too much for the feeble, sorely tried nerves of the old man, and he sank beneath them." "Such was my mother's story. Do you wonder now, Kate, that I prize those locks of faded hair more highly than the diamonds ?" The fair young girl looked up through her tears, and pressing the old bracelet reverently to her lips, laid it silently in the casket. |