Margoleen

Front matter

ChapES^. Copyright No.

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.

r

Preface

Upon life’s sea I set this sail,

A trembling bark to test the wave,

As from my sopl a prayer ascends That it be houored to the grave ;

By all who have the power to feel,

Yea, know life’s truths herein, defined, Who can discern ail influence breathed To purify the heart and mind.

■ — The Author.

MARGOLEEN.

CHAPTER I. “Come not, when I am dead

To drop thy foolish tears upon my grave,

To trample round my lowly head,

And vex the dust thou mights’t, a time, have saved.

There let the wind sweep and the plover cry,

But thou, go by.

Woman, if it were thine error or thy crime,

I care no longer, being here unblest,

Wed whom thou wilt, but I am sick of time,

And I desire to rest.

Pass on, weak heart, and leave me where I lie,

Go by, go by. n

Cuthbert was indeed a beautiful Kentucky home. The imposing old mansion stood at the head of a grand arcade of stately elms, which lifted their towering branches loftily toward heaven, and lent a grateful shade to the greenturft lawn beneath.

Gently sloping meadows, and orchards whose trees were laden with white and pink blossoms, lay at the outskirts of the grand avenue, through which a graveled drive led to the main entrance. On either side the ground was a pool, in which

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the water-lilies trembled on the gently agitated breast of its clear surface. There were broad and productive fields covered with white and red clover blossoms, from whose petals the army of bees sipped honey, whilst humming their ceaseless drone. (Together with bank-stock and valuable slaves belong this inheritance. ) Marion Lewis, a young man of noble character, awoke one morning to find himself sole heir to this lordly estate. His love for the beautiful (being excelled only by his Christian graces) caused him to invest his already comfortable home with every device suggestive of loveliness.

On entering the grounds, flowers sent a breath of welcome to you, filling the air with their sweet fragrance. His home he furnished indicative of refinement. Being of an affectionate and companionable disposition, and without kindred ties, he considered God’s word, to-wit: “ ’Tis not meet that man should live alone,” and so decided to take unto himself a wife.

Accordingly he wooed and married Miss Ira Stanton, the daughter of a farmer, whose income was small, yet sufficiently comfortable to allow them to live in moderate style.

Ira being the only child, unfortunately, was spoiled to a great extent, and often put her father to inconvenience in gratifying her extravagant

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whims. Priding herself on her equestriauship, she induced him to buy her a spirited black steed, and riding-habit of like color. It was her delight to ride, as well as to be admired for grace, and she often passed Cuthbert en route to their neighboring city, from which the people of the surrounding community bought their supplies, and which numbered about six thousand inhabitants.

“It was a nice distance for a horse-back ride,” she said, and it was upon one of these occasions that Marion Tewis, having been to the city for his mail, came unexpectedly upon his future fate.

Slowly he was returning home, his bridle hung over the pomel of his saddle, while in his hands he held an open newspaper. So deeply was he absorbed in its topics, that he did not see or hear Ira riding up behind him until her horse, with a loud snort, lunged frantically across the road, apparently frightened at the newspaper he held in his hands. Instantly he sprang to her side, and grasping her horse’s rein patted him to docility. Then raising his arms, to what he supposed, a very much frightened girl, with terror-stricken face, instead he beheld a beautiful and undaunted woman, and he said, “Would you not like to dismount and exchange horses with me? Mine is very gentle, and if you will

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pardon me for scaring yours (which might have ended disastrously) I will see you safely to your destination. I was really unaware of your presence until the accident occurred. Will you accept my apology? Please do,” he urged, “and let me put you upon my horse. ’ ’

“Most certainly you are forgiven,” said she, as her beautiful black eyes flashed upon him. “I am neither hurt nor scared, so you need not be alarmed about me. Dickson and I have these little flurries occasionally, but he must learn that I am to be obeyed, and consequently submit to my will, which he is fast learning to do. I do not wish to exchange horses, but, if 3^011 like, you may ride with me,” she continued, as she adjusted her jaunty cap over her shining braids, drew up her queenl> T figure, and gave Dickson a keen cut with her whip, which sent him into a gait that caused his beautiful chestnut sorrel to stretch its long limbs and ply its feet industrious^ in order to keep apace.

After they were fairly started, he said to her, ‘‘Under the precarious circumstances, I believe, I have been so forgetful as to fail to introduce myself. My name is Marion L,ewis, and I would be very much pleased to know whom I have the honor of escorting. ’ ’

‘‘My name is Ira Stanton.”

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“Thank you,” he replied courteously.

“And do you reside in this vicinity?”

“My father, who is a farmer, has lived for more than a year not farther than three miles from here. He, mother, and myself constitute our family.”

“O yes, I recall to mind, your father, I presume, is the late occupant of the Wickliff farm.”

“Yes sir, he purchased the place and moved there some eighteen months ago. ’ ’

“Well, Miss Stanton, I wont admit that I am a recluse, neither am I selfishly disposed, but I love my home so much I seldom leave the plantation, and greatly fear I am remiss in my duty to my neighbors. I remember now to have met your father down at the city, and have thought to visit him, but this, like many other things, I have neglected to do; however, with your permission I would be pleased to amend my past conduct by calling on you at an early period.”

Receiving her consent, he lifted her from her saddle; and holding the yard gate ajar for her to pass in, bade her a reluctant adieu. Three months later she became his wife, and like a queen on her roj^al throne, did she make the attempt to reign supreme at Cuthbert. All things she desired to bow in homage to her will. With riches, her love of admiration increased

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swaying everything that precluded her vain gratifications, bringing her husband to realize the discord of their natures. He was unassuming in his habits, and loved a quiet life, whilst she liked gayety and fashionable society, hence their hearts refused to harmonize, making their marriage a union of hands, not souls. However, his vow to protect her was sacredly kept, and worthy a place on the records of Heaven.

If his embrace of love was less tender, he ever treated her with kind consideration, looking upon her misgivings as more of a misfortune, than a fault to be censured, although he would not always yield to what he considered her erroneous ideas of a happy life, and her retorts rang vindictively upon his ear, when he adhered to his version of home comfort, or in other words, conjugal happiness. A gloom settled upon his brow, his hands had grasped an illusive dream, and opened but to find blighted prospects of a yearning life.

Occasionally she felt the influence of his depressed spirits, and with feigned sympathy soothed him into a state of blissfulness. His heart thirsted for consolation, and when she laid her hand upon his shoulder, and looked sympathetically into his eyes, such moments would sweeten his life.

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“How exquisite one single drop of bliss That sparkles on the top of misery’s cup,

What though to-morrow our sky be darker,

That fact makes our blissful moments of to-day Cast intenser radiance while they last.”

Five years had gone by, and Ira Lewis’ disposition is l<#t unchanged. This evening she sits by the sick-bed of her husband, who has fallen into a quiet sleep, and as she watches the fire-light throw its flickering rays over the floor, the wind sounds pathetically mournful through the swaying elms, which are now bereft of verdure, and like the looming spires of their neighboring city, bear the impress of a kiss from cold winter’s frosty lips. Flake upon flake, the gently falling snow has covered roof and branch, until from distant view its white sheen places tower and earth upon a level, making the beautiful landscape an emblem of purity.

The dying;day goes down under a dark canopy, and the world is hushed into silence. The following morning a deep, tender gloom hung over the grand old mansion. Between the setting and rising of the sun, its mistress had been made a mother and a widow.

“Good-bye, Ira, teach our boy to be a Christian,’’ were the last words of Marion Lewis ere his soul took flight to Heaven.

MARGOLEEN.

Chapter II

Thirty years of time have trailed the earth since the opening of our story. Again we look in upon Ira Stanton, who is still the widow of Marion Lewis and the mistress of Cuthbert, which, but for the wisdom of her husband, who entailed it to his son, would have long since (through her extravagance) been squandered, and passed into other hands.

Again winter spreads her snowy mantle. Yesterday the flakes fell thick and fast, necessarily keeping all in doors with only the privilege of breaking the monotony by gazing through the windows at the driving sheets. This morning, however, the sun shines sufficiently warm to melt it from the hillsides exposed to its rays, leaving the more shaded spots still wrapped in its cold embrace.

Clad in a hunting suit of rich brown hue, Ethen Lewis stoops to buckle his snow-boots, when his attention is arrested by a scowl of disapproval upon the brow of his mother.

“What’s going wrong with your world now, ma mere? Wouldn’t you like to breakfast on birds and fresh hare?” quote he.

“Not to the extent of having my plans for the day thwarted,” she replied.

IvIARGOLEEN.

“And pray, what have I to do with frustrating your plans? Am I not always found on duty as regards the welfare of my most considerate mother? Pray don’t mar the pleasure of this day’s hunt, for the whining of my dogs, L,arkin and Don, show that they, like their master, are anxious to hie across the fields.”

“Ethan, I’ll admit that in most things you are a dutiful son, and yet there are times when you provoke me almost beyond endurance. I have invited some young ladies to visit us, among whom is the accomplished heiress of the Pine Grove Mansion, and to-day, you well know, is the appointed time for their arrival. I imagine the embarrassment the non-appearance of my son will occasion at the reception.”

“O mother,” said he, as a wearied look settled upon his liithert,o happy countenance, “is there no rest from this code of fashionable life? Is there no place one can hide and rest, at least for a time, from the stern law which fashionable society demands?”

“I see you are not inclined to grant my wishes by remaining at home.”

“I dislike to baffle your intrigue to throw the heiress and your most worthy son together, ’ ’ he replied, with curling lip, “but I’m not to be turned from my purpose,” so swinging his game

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sack over his neck, and shouldering his gun, he concluded, “I must hunt to-day, mother, but will come home early, and to-niglit play the agreeable to your heart’s content.”

She stood at the window and watched him, as with dogs following close at his heels, he crossed the stile and walked from her sight. T hen going back to the fire, she dropped into her chair and involuntarily exclaimed, “O, what a boy, there never was, nor never will be, one just like him. Many fair women, of richest dower, have given him their hearts without the asking, and yet he doesn’t seem to acknowledge or appreciate his power of fascination. That he is a kind and honorable .son, cannot be disputed, yet I know it lies within his power to make me a much happier woman than I am. The quiet uneventful life I’m living, with no female companion, no husband, and often, on account of his rambling disposition, deprived of my son’s society, awakens me to the knowledge that he ought to marry. Miss Blanche Clifton, the aforesaid heiress, is the woman I have determined to call my daughter, hence planned this visit, that association may consummate my predominant wish, yet the eccentricity of Ethan’s disposition warns me that in engineering his future, an arduous task lies before me! His father before

MARGOLEEN.

him was a very peculiar man, though I never doubted his devotion, for he was ever kind, never denying me any enjoyment whatever. His purse was never shut against my desires. He never neglected me in any way, and yet there was an irresponsiveness in our lives which, at times, made me feel a coldness through every fiber of my nature. In fact I think he must have been too old for me, his taste was always the opposite of mine. When I expressed a desire to spend a season in the city, he always accompanied me, yet I could tell that he much preferred the quietude of his country home. He bought me every article that my fastidious taste demanded, yet when I dressed myself in the most elaborate style and went to him for a word of praise, he surveyed me with a sad smile and answered my query (Don’tyour wife look pretty ?) by the words: ‘Beauty is adorned most, when unadorned.’ Yes, I know he loved me, and yet there was not much affinity between us. There was a depth in his nature I could never fathom, and now how plainly do I realize that not only the admirable traits of his father, but also his absurd peculiarities, are the inheritance of our son. Just how to manage him I do not know. If I urge my wish too strongly, he will at once leave home, and perhaps wander around the

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world twelve months before I see him again. He is now twenty-five years old, and if he ever intends to marry, why wait longer ? Miss Clifton is accomplished, queen-like in appearance, and dresses with faultless splendor; then too, her estate, together with that of my son’s, would be a most enviable object indeed. Now if I can bring him to reason he will at once see his folly in refusing to accede to my plans, and secure for himself this bright-plum aged bird, e’re it soars away to other realms, and is captured by a-4ess worthy man.”

And thus a designing mother is scheming to marry her son to the object of her choice, instead of allowing the finger of God to point out to him the woman to whom his heart will spontaneously respond. Matrimony is a grand stage of action, and remembering that the greatest dramatist says, ‘‘Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,” can we take the great responsibility upon ourselves of mating other lives than our own? In other words, can we look through the window of another’s soul and discern the qualities essential to its happiness? No, no, a warning voice from the sepulchre of wrecked hearts cries, ‘‘God forbid.”

MARGOLEEN.

Chapter III

Mrs. Lewis met her visitors with a hearty welcome. Miss Clifton having laid aside her seal-skin wrap, sat by the glowing grate swaying gracefully back and forth in a large arm-roeker, her handsome brocaded skirts rustling upon the velvet carpet, while her over-polite hostess dissembled and feigned an excuse for her son’s absence.

It will never do, thought she, to let her know that he left home on this particular occasion, merely to go hunting, so she told them that early that morning her son had very unexpectedly been called away on some urgent business. “He bade me tender his regrets,” she continued, “and say that he would be with us early this evening.” Miss Clifton seemed satisfied with the apology.

Belle Seaton gave her head an independent toss, whilst Maud Lindsey looked at her pretty blue-eyed sister, Emma, questioningly. Plans for the season were then discussed by Mrs. Lewis and her four young lady visitors. As the shades of evening begun to lengthen, Mrs. Lewis grew restless, and excusing herself from her guests, left them, hurriedly sought her son’s valet and inquired:

“Phil has your master returned?”

MARGOLEEN.

“No ma’am,” was tlie reply.

“Well Phil, I want you to keep watch for him, and as soon as he enters the plantation meet him and tell him for goodness sake to come around to the side or back entrance, as I do not wish our visitors to know that he has been out hunting to-day, knowing that we were expecting them. You understand, don’t you, Phil? He is very untlioughted, and just as apt to come in before them with gun and dogs as any other way, which might prove to be an unpardonable offense, so be on the alert, Phil.”

“Certainly, Miss Ira, you may depend on me, the company-folks shan’t know Mars Ethen been hunting to-day.”

Her fears somewhat alleviated by the assurance of Phil, she next proceeded to tell the house -keeper to spare no pains in giving the most elaborate finish to tea service.

During her absence, Belle Seaton, the highspirited, good-humored, flashing brunette, had left her seat and was sauntering about the room, when from a remote corner she drew forth an old chess-board, whose crevice formed a tenement for a huge spider. Shaking him from his abode, she laughingly exclaimed as she watched him run across the floor, causing the other girls to flee in terror to the opposite side of the room,

“Oh girl?, don’t be frightened, I’ll open the door and let him out, for ’ tis an evident fact that he, like the master of Cuthberfc, prefers to seek other amusement than entertain us. Come girls, Mr. Spider is now gone; here is the board, let’s have a game all to ourselves. It isn’t often we can play a game independent of our superior sex, and I am sure we will enjoy the freedom of the occasion.”

When Mrs. Lewis returned, she was pleased to see them apparently much interested in the game. She chatted gayly, yet her expectant gaze was often turned toward the door. Another hour had passed, her son had not yet made his appearance. Had he forgotten his training in etiquette? Did he not mean to be there to escort their guests to supper? Why did he not come?

Consulting her watch again, she decided that it would be out of all propriety to wait longer, so she ordered supper, and concealing her embarrassment as best she could, invited her guests out to the dining-room, assuring them of her son’s annoyance at being detained.

“Dear Blanche,” she whispered, as she threw her arm lovingly around the waist of the heiress, an act plainly observed by Belle Seaton, “Ido so pity poor Ethan, since I know he nas so longed for the arrival of this day; ’tis too bad

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that he had to be called off so unexpectedly, but I am sure he will soon come in; ’tis growing late, and he said he would be with us early; I trust you will not attribute his absence to lack of appreciation.”

“Oh, no,” replied Miss Clifton, as an insipid smile played about her mouth, and drawing down her aquiline nose she concluded, “I am sure some unavoidable event has detained him.”

Supper being over, the house was lighted up in dazzling splendor. The effulgent pendants of the chandeliers in their crystal brightness seemed to vie with the burning lights. Each young lady in her turn had favored their hostess with their best execution on the piano. The last lingering strain of the pathetic song, ‘‘I’m Nobody’s Darling,” sung by blue-eyed Emma Lindsey, echoed through the spacious hall, when the door was ruthlessly thrust open, and Ethan Lewis, begored with blood, staggered in beneath a heavy burden held in his arms, which proved to be a wounded girl of nine summers, and who now in a dead swoon, lay peacefully against his agitated breast.

The sound of Miss Lindsey’s voice, and the deep tone of the instrument, did not prevent the quick ear of Mrs. Lewis from recognizing the footsteps of her long-looked-for son, neither did she fail to detect that he came in through the front door, and in an unusually boisterous manner at that.

She tried to suppress her tears, but again left the room, this time taking great pains to shut the door securely after her. Hurriedly she sped down the hall- way, occasionally stepping over a spot of blood, which glared suggestively upon the inlaid marble floor, and which sent an additional pang to her already fearful heart. On and on she flew, after his receding footsteps, and reached the back sitting-room in time to see him lay a limp figure, with pale face and tangled hair, upon the sofa.

Chapter IV

“O, my son,” she cried, as standing aghast, she beheld the awful spectacle, “what does this mean? Are you hurt Ethan?” she continued, as she looked at his blanched cheek.

“No, no, mother,” he replied, “do be quick to bring me some water, camphor, or something, can’t you see? O, I have killed this poor child, what am I to do? Hasn’t Phil gotten back yet? I told him to run for Dr. Bedford, and it does seem that he has had ample time to get back.”

The Doctor came in to find the remorseful man on his knees, chaffing the hands of the still

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unconscious girl, audibly upbraiding himself for the terrible accident. His lamentation was truly affecting, nor did he seem conscious of the Doctor’s presence until he patted him on the shoulder and said, “Mr. Ethan, I am here; come, what is the occasion of this scene?”

“I accidentally shot this child, Doctor, and fear I have killed her,” he answered with pleading eyes.

The Doctor, placing his ear to the child’s heart, and examining her pulse, said, “Oh, no, she is not dead by any means, only faint from loss of blood. ’ ’ And upon further examination assured them that the wound was not fatal, the shot having only entered the fleshy part of her arm and hip.

“Thank God,” said Ethan, “and now Doctor, do all you can to restore her; money shall be no object.”

While Mrs. Lewis sat vaguely listening, and the Doctor applied restoratives, held by his willing hands, Ethan explained to them that having enjoyed his day’s hunt so much, he unfortunately forgot he had promised his mother to return early, and was surprised to find it almost dark ere he thought to turn his steps homeward, being some distance off too, heavily loaded with the game of a successful day’s hunt, and a little foot

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weary, he was slowly approaching home, after the gathering darkness had overtaken him, when a dark object moved behind the huge gate-post of Cuthbert avenue. He, mistaking the object for a dog that was reported as having been seen trespassing his sheep pastures, fired the fatal shot, which to his horror was followed by the piercing cry of the wounded child. Throwing his gun down he gained the spot to find the girl lying with face downward upon the cold ground. He shook her and tried to raise her up, but as no motion or sound followed that first shrill scream, the great fear that her life was extinct seized upon him, and scarcely realizing what he did, he gathered her in his strong arms and ran towards home. Meeting Phil, whom his mother had stationed at the gate, he called to him in an imperious voice to fly for Dr. Bedford, and taking in the situation at a glance, Phil awaited no explanation, but hurried on at his utmost speed.

“And had you taken my advice and remained at home,” interrupted his mother, “the accident would not have occurred . 5 ’

Ethan made no reply to these words, in fact ’tis doubtful that he heard them, since he was so anxiously watching the patient, whose movements of hands and limbs were now beginning to indicate returning life, although the eyelids

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were still closed, and the thin lips tightly compressed. Her wound being nicely dressed, the Doctor took leave, telling them she would soon be all right, and that he would call early the next morning.

After his exit, Mrs. Lewis said to her son, “Ethan, the child seems to be getting along nicely now; and our guests must feel that we are neglecting them, suppose we call in the housekeeper, or my maid, to watch beside the patient, and we go to our visitors. I am sure an explanation, and an apology too, is due them. You will find your room and clothing in waiting. Do hurry and cleanse yourself of that bloody garb, and for goodness sake don’t look like you had committed murder, or stolen something; do look pleasant, by all means.”

“But the child, mother; can I smile and know that I am the cause of her pain?”

“Oh pshaw son, the girl is all right, besides you do not know what kind of cattle she is. I’ll be bound she’ll be up bj' times in the morning, and likely as not ready to pocket every available article she can conveniently conceal, and then you will feel rewarded for j^our pains, no doubt.”

“I shall not trust her to the care of the dependents, not yet, at least,” said he.

“You are a silly goose,” she answered, know-

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ing full well that he meant just what he said, aud that she would have trouble in removing this difficult}". So she next suggested that she herself would remain with the child, if he would go to the young ladies and explain, what she considered, his impoliteness.

“Sit with them until bedtime, Ethan,” she continued. “I’ll take care of this unfortunate child, who has imprudently strayed too late, and thereby met the consequences. ’ ’

“Enough, mother, you may go to our visitors and make my excuses for me. Tell them I have been so unfortunate as to accidentally wound a little girl, and that I shall not leave her until I am satisfied of her recovery, and beg her forgiveness.”

“And mark my words, Ethan, you’ll live to repeut your decision,” and the eyes of Ira Eewis flashed a dangerous gleam upon the sleeping child, who started nervously at the unkind slamming of the door, as the angry woman swept disdainfully from the room, leaving her son astonished at her incompassionate heart.

Going back to the parlor, she insisted upon the girls resuming their music, which they graciously did, while she framed an excuse for her son’s behavior. The sweet song of Belle Seaton was not in unison with the raging billows of her

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soul, as unmindful of its sentiment she sat gazing into the fire and planned an apology to suit the emergency.

Alone with his charge, Ethan sat watching the workings of her features, when slowl3 r she opened her great violet eyes of soulful expression, whose marvelous tenderness shone into his like clear deep pools of water, at whose depth dark tinted autumn leaves are lying. The strong man, dumb with admiration, watched her turn her gaze upon the richly furnished room, allowing it to linger upon a beautiful painting of Cuthbert, upon whose doorstep stood a handsome lad, his arm thrown lovingly around the neck of his favorite dog. When again her eyes sought his face, their legible expression told that she recognized the boy to be a picture of the man before her.

The lovely adorningsof the apartment, together with the sweet strains of music issuing from the parlor, seemed for a time to lull her into a state of hallucination, and when Ethan inquired if she felt better, she evaded the question by asking where she was.

“Oh where am I ?’ ’ was her cry. “I am surely dead, and this is Heaven, but where is mother that she does not come to greet her Margoleen?”

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Chapter V

Gathering tears filled the eyes of Ethan Lewis, which convinced the child of his sincerity, while he explained to her that he was the cause of her suffering.

“No, thank Heaven, you are not dead little girl,” he continued, “you may rest assured that you are in the hands of a friend, who feels that nothing he can do will atone for the pain he has given you, and now will you forgive me, and tell me your name?”

“I don’t care. It don’t hurt me much now,” she answered in childish sympathy. “My name is Margoleen Melbroke, but the folks at the inn call me Marg, and Dinah said if I came home without the cow this time she would beat me. That’s her lowing now,” and turning her ear to listen, she sprang suddenly to her feet and called aloud, “Souke Pied.” All color forsook her face, with the exception of a blue circle around her mouth, which showed that pain had overpowered her and checked her flight. Gently he laid her back upon the pillows, and reaching for a class of wine, quickly held it to her pale lips and bade her drink. Thus revived, she continued: