It were
well they passed unknown, for the world is like a great stream with
a surface of busy life moving on its way above a troubled current,
lashing and foaming beneath, but only breaking here and there as if
to mark the smothered conflict. And yet with me it is nothing, a
moment of disappointment creeping into my contemplations,
transplanting them with melancholy-"
"Something more!" interrupted Franconia, "something more; it is a
step beyond melancholy, more than disappointment. Uncle feels it
sensibly-it pains him, it wears upon him. I have seen it foremost in
his thoughts." Her anxiety increases, her soft meaning eyes look
upon him imploringly, she fondles him with a sister's tenderness,
the tears trickling down her cheeks as she beholds him downcast and
in sorrow. His reluctance to disclose the secret becomes more
painful to her.
"You may know it soon enough," he replies. "I have erred, and my
errors have brought me to a sad brink. My friends-those who have
indulged my follies-have quickened the canker that will destroy
themselves. Indulgence too often hastens the cup of sorrow, and when
it poisons most, we are least conscious. It is an alluring charmer,
betraying in the gayest livery-"
"Lorenzo," she interrupts, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Tell me
all; remember woman's influence-she can relieve others when she
cannot relieve herself. Make me your confidant--relieve your
feelings."
"This night, Franconia, I shall bid a painful good-bye to those
familiar scenes which have surrounded my life,--to you, my sister, to
those faithful old friends of the plantation, Daddy Bob and Harry.
Pages:
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93