About this time her true, loving friend, Miss Carman, married. Irene

did not stand as one of the bridesmaids at the ceremony. Rose gently

hinted her wishes in the case, but Irene shrunk from the position,

and her feeling was respected. The husband of Rose was a merchant,

residing in New York, named Everet. After a short bridal tour she

went to her new home in the city. Mr. Everet was five or six years

her senior, and a man worthy to be her life-companion. No sudden

attachment had grown up between them. For years they had been in the

habit of meeting, and in this time the character of each had been

clearly read by the other. When Mr. Everet asked the maiden's hand,

it, was yielded without a sign of hesitation.

The removal of Rose from the neighborhood of Ivy Cliff greatly

disturbed the even-going tenor of Irene's life. It withdrew also a

prop on which she had leaned often in times of weakness, which would

recur very heavily.

"How can I live without you?" she said in tears, as she sat alone

with the new-made bride on the eve of her departure; "you have been

everything to me, Rose--strength in weakness; light, when all around

was cold and dark; a guide when I had lost my way. God bless and

make you happy, darling! And he will. Hearts like yours create

happiness wherever they go."

"My new home will only be a few hours' distant," replied Rose; "I

shall see you there often."

Irene sighed. She had been to the city only a few times since that

sad day of separation from her husband. Could she return again and

enter one of its bright social circles? Her heart said no. But love

drew her too strongly. In less than a month after Rose became the

mistress of a stately mansion, Irene was her guest. This was just

six years from the time when she set up her home there, a proud and

happy young wife. Alas! that hearth was desolate, "its bright fire

quenched and gone."

It was best for Irene thus to get back again into a wider social

sphere--to make some new friends, and those of a class that such a

woman as Mrs. Everet would naturally draw around her. Three years of

suffering, and the effort to lead a life of self-denial and active

interest in others, had wrought in Irene a great change. The old,

flashing ardor of manner was gone. If she grew animated in

conversation, as she often did from temperament, her face would

light up beautifully, but it did not show the radiance of old times.

Thought, more than feeling, gave its living play to her countenance.

All who met her were attracted; as her history was known,

observation naturally took the form of close scrutiny. People wished

to find the angular and repellant sides of her character in order to

see how far she might be to blame. But they were not able to

discover them. On the subjects of woman's rights, domestic tyranny,

sexual equality and all kindred themes she was guarded in speech.

She never introduced them herself, and said but little when they

formed the staple of conversation.




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