Our Novelettes.

Bruce Herald, Volume XVII, Issue 1759, 18 June 1886, Page 5

Our Novelettes.

CORA'S MARRIAGE. (Oontinued.) What could I do? But ob, tho anguish of my soul. In only two weeks— the first of April — I was to wed my love. Ilonour and duty first— love must go — and so I told him yes. Even then he was sinking fast. I went for tho clergyman, as he directed mo. In a few short moments rry dreams of happiness with my fair love were dead. 1 ecek encouragement io do my duty by thia fair young girl who had been placed in , my hands at euch a cost to rre. May the rever suffer the anguish of mind which has come to roe. I mean to do what is right by her, but it is hard to keep tbe face of my love from my mind. May. — It is quite two months now eiDce my marriage. Cora is indeed a child. Her education was never finished, and is sadly neglected. I must make hor study to fit herself for contact with society. I shall send her to a grod boarding school. In the meanwhile I will go abroad and try and drown my sorrow. Poor little girl ! She calls me Colonel Maplowood. She has never been able to call mo Walter. Ah, well, I suppose I do look old aud stern to her. I will speak to her tonight about the boarding rchool. ( Jtjne— 'It is all settled. She is quite sensible about it. When I asked her if sho would like to finish her education, she replied — ' Yes, Colorel Maplewood, above all things.' And then she continued, in a somewhat etrange manner, I thought, ' I know I am your wife, but it all seems so strange. I think it best that I "should return to school, and finish my education in Buch a manner that though you may never love me, yet you will never be ashamed of your wife. I think all arrangements could be completed to-morrow, and I bad better go as Miss Hilton.' I was too much surprised fo speak, so I only acquiesced by nodding my head. I am alone now. I took her to tbe school and ! explained to the lady) principal our relationship, and all that I thought was absolusely neci saary. To accomplish her education as I wish it will take five years — fivo years in which I can be comparatively free. I will go abroad. August, 1867. — I am almost tired of this wandering, from point to point, with no object. I have n9W been married two years and five months, and havo not seen my child bride for over two years. Neither have I heard from her directly. The principal's letter came regularly, containing glowing reports of Miss Hilton's progress in her studies. Well, I don't know but that I shall be glad when her school days are over, and I can go home to a life of domestic bliss. Ah, no — n;-t to a home of bliss, most cerlainly, but at least of comforts. I wonder if she thinks of me mnch, and is she growing any pre'ti.v I have a curiosity to see her. Ah mo, how things and people change. At one time I could, I imagined, almoßt have died forgrie at my hasty marriage, and the soperation from her who was to have been my bride. Shakespeare Bays truly tbat ' men have died and worms have eaten them but not for love. 1 While I was ready in my grief, to put an end to my existence, she whom I had imagined constant was consoling herself with a new lover. I half believe I could go back and fall in love with my little wife. Well. I'll take another tour, and at the end of tho five years I'll make my way home again and settle down. May, 1870. — Home at last, though truth to tell I felt more like a stranger when I landed than a native born. My old friends are not all dead, as I found when t dropped into my club. I have been away bo lon^ that they all seem to have forgotten my etrange marriage. I have said nothing, as it is a aore subject with me. In a month I will go for Cora, and then — oh, well, let the future take care of itself. The five years are up, and I have returned. At the club I met Archie Henderson, a warm friend, who served under me. He iB a gallant fellow. He is in love. The young men seem to be infatuated over a now star in the firmament of society. lam to see this star to-night, at his earnest solicitation. Woe is me I I have not been to a ball, party, or social gathering these five years, and I am almost ! afraid of myself. i May, 1870. — I have Been the social star. Beautiful as a dream. What more can I say ? Am I to have a repetition of my misery of five years' back ? I must keep away from this young girl, for my own srfery, for my own happiness, I feel that I could love her to distraction. Strange to say, she closely resembles my wife. May. — How vain and light are human wills ! I have seen her again. What is her charm ? It is not her beauty, great though it be. I don't look upon that. In conversation she excels, and by it she holds her too willing slaves. I must fight against this feeling. Juno — Every day Bince I wrote the las 6 I have seen her. I feel confident that Bhe loves me, but oh that I should cause ber to suffer 1 I will go to her and tell her all j tell her of my unfortunate marriage, and bid her a last farewell. June. — It is over. She loves me. Bless her for what she haß Baid ! • Walter, I have loved you from the first moment we met, and if I cannot belong to you, I will never be any other man's wife. And now good-bye 1' With that she clasped my hand a moment, and thus we parted. I have already delayed too long, and to-morrow I go for Cora. March 16. — I, Cora Hilton, am a bride, but such a bride ! Father died almost immediately after the ceremony. And I am the wife of that cold, stem, handsome man ! He cares nothing for me j that I can see plainly. I am a child in years, but how little in feelings I I feel that I love him already, and I have hardly known him twenty-four hours. He must bo good. If I could win him to me 1 I am half afraid of him. April 16.— Married a month, and my husband treats me like a child. I love the ground he walks on, but I can't Bhow it. I know I am not plain to look at, for my mirror tells me so, but it is such unformed beauty j that much I can see. Oh, to win his love I June, 1868. — Old journal it has been a long time since I bave made an entry in your papes. What changes 1 Colonel Maplewood placed me here at Madam Curtin'B select boarding-school for a five years' course. I gladly agreed to this. I knew that my education was deficient, and that it was best to do as he wished. I hear nothing from him, and I am too proud to ask Madam Curtin for any j information of my husband. I will astonish him when he returns, I hope.. I love him, oh, so fondly I April, 1870. — Madam Curtin has left me. She says my five years will be over in May — as it I did not know it I — and she hopes Colonel Maplewood will be pleased with her work. At the same time ehe suggested that I visit London until the time of hiß arrival, a it will throw me in society. If I would like to go, ehe will send me to a lady friend at

leader in sreial circles. I have told ber that I will be glad of the charge. At her suggestion, therefore, I go as Miss Laura Wilfcrd, my mother's maiden name. May. —Wonder of wonders! To-nigl t, nt Mrs Hudson's ball, Mr Henderson introduced me to a gentleman of whom he could rot suy enough in praise — to his old colorel, he Baid, nnd then I found myself f»co to face with Colonel Maplewood. He di 1 . not rrcr>gn : se in Miss Laura Wilford It's wife of fivo yc^rs back. Ho was my devcted tfovo tho rest of the evenij g. He is 80 handsome and distinguished looking. Now to mako bim love me ! June.— At last ho loves me ! Ho loves me ! To-dny he came and told me of his love, and his 'miserable story.' I gnve him *ome good advice, and told him it was b^ st fr.r his own happiness to go for his wife without a?>y dolay, and endeavour to be happy as best he might/. Then I bade him good-byo. Now I rrust make haste to get back to Madam Curt in's before he gets ihcro. Wi'l not his surprise be great ? # # # # # Colonel Maplewood arrived at Madam Curtin'p, and was shown into the drawing-room. Madam was in woiting, as he bad toleeraphed her that he would be there, and then fere when he was ushered in she rote to meet bim Baying — ' My dear Colonel Maplewood, I am charmed to see you, and I know your wife will bo. You will find her in the conpervatory. You will find her much changed, and jou may not recognise her.' Colonol Maplewood, with a heavy heart, strode towards the conservatory. In the gloom he saw a figure. Going forward he called — ' Cora, Cora, have you no welcorao for me after five year's absence ?' ' Yes, Walter, a welcome of love.' And turning to him she held ber bands out. One look into that faco, and Colonel Map'ewood caught her in his arms with a glad cry. 'Oh, you little rogue,' he said. How could you so deceive me ? Now I underttand the strange resemblance which puzzled me so. Oh, my darling, how thankful I feel. ' Oh, Walter, are you co happy ?' 'Happy beyond expression my darling. The earth is very beautiful to me now, where ten minutes ago it was very black. And you are really my own ?' * Ses Walter, jours for ever.'