She closed her eyes and groaned.

"What induced her to marry him?" asked Beulah.

"Only her own false heart knows. But I have always believed she was

chiefly influenced by a desire to escape from the strict discipline

to which her father subjected her at home. Her mother was anything

but a model of propriety; and her mother's sister, who was Dr.

Hartwell's wife, was not more exemplary. My uncle endeavored to curb

Antoinette's dangerous fondness for display and dissipation, and she

fancied that, as Eugene's wife, she could freely plunge into

gayeties which were sparingly allowed her at home. I know she does

not love Eugene; she never did; and, assuredly, his future is dark

enough. I believe, if she could reform him she would not; his

excesses sanction, or at least in some degree palliate, hers. Oh,

Beulah, I see no hope for him!"

"Have you talked to him kindly, Cornelia? Have you faithfully

exerted your influence to check him in his route to ruin?"

"Talked to him? Aye; entreated, remonstrated, upbraided, used every

argument at my command. But I might as well talk to the winds and

hope to hush their fury. I shall not stay to see his end; I shall

soon be silent and beyond all suffering. Death is welcome, very

welcome."

Her breathing was quick and difficult, and two crimson spots burned

on her sallow cheeks. Her whole face told of years of bitterness,

and a grim defiance of death, which sent a shudder through Beulah,

as she listened to the panting breath. Cornelia saturated her

handkerchief with some delicate perfume from a crystal vase, and,

passing it over her face, continued: "They tell me it is time I should be confirmed; talk vaguely of

seeing preachers, and taking the sacrament, and preparing myself, as

if I could be frightened into religion and the church. My mother

seems just to have waked up to a knowledge of my spiritual

condition, as she calls it. Ah, Beulah, it is all dark before me;

black, black as midnight! I am going down to an eternal night; down

to annihilation. Yes, Beulah; soon I shall descend into what

Schiller's Moor calls the 'nameless yonder.' Before long I shall

have done with mystery; shall be sunk into unbroken rest." A ghastly

smile parted her lips as she spoke.

"Cornelia, do you fear death?"

"No; not exactly. I am glad I am so soon to be rid of my vexed,

joyless life; but you know it is all a dark mystery; and sometimes,

when I recollect how I felt in my childhood, I shrink from the final

dissolution. I have no hopes of a blissful future, such as cheer

some people in their last hour. Of what comes after death I know and

believe nothing. Occasionally I shiver at the thought of

annihilation; but if, after all, revelation is true, I have

something worse than annihilation to fear. You know the history of

my skepticism; it is the history of hundreds in this age. The

inconsistencies of professing Christians disgusted me. Perhaps I was

wrong to reject the doctrines because of their abuse; but it is too

late now for me to consider that. I narrowly watched the conduct of

some of the members of the various churches, and, as I live, Beulah,

I have never seen but one who practiced the precepts of Christ. I

concluded she would have been just what she was without religious

aids. One of my mother's intimate friends was an ostentatious,

pharisaical Christian; gave alms, headed charity lists; was

remarkably punctual in her attendance at church, and apparently very

devout; yet I accidentally found out that she treated a poor

seamstress (whom she hired for a paltry sum) in a manner that

shocked my ideas of consistency, of common humanity. The girl was

miserably poor, and had aged parents and brothers and sisters

dependent on her exertions; but her Christian employer paid her the

lowest possible price, and trampled on her feelings as though she

had been a brute. Oh, the hollowness of the religion I saw

practiced! I sneered at everything connected with churches, and

heard no more sermons, which seemed only to make hypocrites and

pharisees of the congregation. I have never known but one exception.

Mrs. Asbury is a consistent Christian. I have watched her, under

various circumstances; I have tempted her, in divers ways, to test

her, and to-day, skeptic as I am, I admire and revere that noble

woman. If all Christians set an example as pure and bright as hers,

there were less infidelity and atheism in the land. If I had known

even half a dozen such I might have had a faith to cheer me in the

hour of my struggle. She used to talk gently to me in days past, but

I would not heed her. She often comes to see me now; and though I do

not believe the words of comfort that fall from her lips, still they

soothe me; and I love to have her sit near me, that I may look at

her sweet, holy face, so full of winning purity. Beulah, a year ago

we talked of these things. I was then, as now, hopeless of creeds,

of truth, but you were sure you would find the truth. I looked at

you eagerly when you came in, knowing I could read the result in

your countenance. Ah, there is no peace written there! Where is your

truth? Show it to me."




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