GODEY'S Lady's Book and Magazine. VOLUME XCIII.-NO. 553. PHILADELPHIA, JULY, 1876. MY SECOND MARRIAGE. BY EARLE DOUGLASS. THE Ceremony was over; friends, sincere, warm-hearted friends crowded around us, and their congratulations broke the fearful spell that had stolen like a dead weight over my very being. I looked on the happy, blushing face beside me, the downcast eyes whose delicatelyfringed lids trembled beneath my gaze; this girl in the first dawn of womanhood, so fair, so pure and good, stood there, my wife, my own! I had not meant to be a villain. I could not tell even now how, in the midst of good resolves, I had been led to the commission of an infamous crime, that would make this fair being, who had given the remainder of her life to my keeping, shudder and turn from me in disgust-a very fiend had lured me on and on, until, by this step I rendered myself amenable to the laws of my country, risked the freedom of a man under the broad, blue sky, for a prison cell, a felon's doom! I had thought this scene over many times; n some moods persuading myself there was no sin in it, because I did it from an honest heart that would have shrank from such a step unless compelled to it, and this I almost thought I had been. There were many extenuating circumstances; no man with a generous, affectionate heart, whose pulses thrilled at a warm home welcome, and the kiss of wife and child could condemn me, I reasoned, for following the dictates of an honorable mind. At other seasons I had said, "I will endure my desolate life, shut myself out from every joy and happiness that falls to the lot of other men, less appreciative, and less worthy, perhaps. I will suffer in silence for a sin I have not committed, rather than burden my soul with what, in the eres of my fellow mortals, would be considered a crime." But when the hour of temptation came, many plausible reasons presented themselves, all seeming so fair, and grounded on such true, honest motives, that ere I was aware I yielded. My love, too, pleaded strongly-I was yet a young man, with large capabilities for joy or misery; why should I make a dreary desert of this fair world, and shut my eyes to all the softer whisperings of peace and happiness, such as sit down guests by the good man's fireside? More than all, I was loved; not with the trifling, evanescent passion that could soon replace the lost affection by some newer object; but a serious, fervent, truthful feeling that exists only once in a woman's heart. The thought that she might pine and droop in my absence, forget what a bright, beautiful world lay around her when my lips no longer described it, grow weary and look heavenward for the For her sake, only rest that could ever satisfy her longing heart, nearly maddened me. said the tempter, if not for yours. So I married Dora Grayson when I knew hundreds of leagues away another woman could by right call me husband, claim me, cause me to be a scorn and by-word, worse still, condemn me to a dreary prison at any moment. Perhaps it was because I felt in the depths of my soul she cared too little for me to take any note of what I might do, that bridged over the risk, made it seem of less importance to me. I wondered that of all the congregation assembled to see Dora Grayson lay aside her girlhood and become a wife, no one pointed me out as a villain, no strong arm tore her away from me and thrust me back to the cold, gloomy world of thought, where for years I had led such a miserable existence; but as I said, the congratulations and earnest, heartfelt wishes brought to me a new life, and I breathed freely Dora from her fate; yet no hand intervened, stars glittered in their bed of blue, at our feet no voice was raised save in tones of joy; and the murmurous waves hummed low and pleaswhen, a few moments after, we reached Mr.antly, now and then crested with a few specks Grayson's residence, my hand was warmly of white foam, but often so clear that it seemed pressed, blessings invoked on my head, and a beneath, like another sky and another world mother's trembling voice bade me cherish her of stars. No sound to mar the great gushing darling. No enemy came to the bridal feast, of our hearts within, the tide-water bearing us all was joy and gladness; the only skeleton onward and onward over the broad sea of life, was the busy conscience in my own heart. so calm and clear it did not seem possible rocks and dangers encompassed us. We did not leave Arncliff for several days. I felt I desired to face my foe, if any came. My young wife must have thought me singular enough; perhaps, had she loved me less, might have questioned my conduct; but in her pure girlish heart, no suspicion ever entered. It was not until after we left Arncliff and became domesticated for a few weeks at a pretty little seaside village where visitors were a rare occurrence, that I dared enjoy my new-found happiness. Enjoy!-that is no word to express my sensations-I fairly revelled in bliss. Dora was unlike any woman I had ever met, a strange compound, with just the ingredients suited to my taste. Delicate and shy almost to reserve, one moment cool and well-nigh stately, and the next hiding her blushing face in my arms, that I might not too easily see how she loved me. I had never dreamed of loving like this, or being so loved; small wonder then if in this great joy, conscience was stifled, detection laughed at, and life spread out before me in hues so bright I would not have taken the gold of India for a single day. Yet the hard and misanthropic existence I had led could not fail to leave some influence. A hundred times a day I asked myself if we should never tire of each other, if coldness and mutual bickerings might not grow up between us, even if fate spared us to one another; yet the more I thought of such interruptions the more improbable did they seem. Dora had such an inexhaustible fount of tenderness and patience; she was so thoroughly womanly, a companion for my graver hours and occupations, a warm, sympathizing friend who understood me intuitively, and admired as well as loved. It may appear singular that I could enjoy all this with a burden in the depths of my heart, rising at times like some gigantic mountain whose vast shadow would always darken my life, but I did, fully and freely; sometimes with no thought of sin, no fear of detection. When Dora was with me, and I heard her voice, I could think of nothing beside her; but at night, when she was peacefully asleep, her soul at rest in that strange land so like death, her lips closed, and the busy brain, that had no thought beside my welfare, hushed from its pleasant labor, another form, a grim, terrible phantom stole in my room, and stood cold and mocking, taunting me with my crime. The pale, stony lips hissed bitterly, "She has no right here; she can never be your legal wife; she is not yours, and you know it. She will awake from her glorious dream to find herself betrayed, and look on you as her destroyer learn love is only a dream, a mockery, and you" Was it any wonder the cold drops of mortal agony should stand on my forehead, and the very moon-rays, as they looked in at the vinewreathed casement, torture me with their melancholy light, that I should look forward to the morning for relief, and yet dread to have it come, lest I should learn I must part with love and Dora forever. But the phantom spake truly, bitter as it was. She who stood with me first at the marriage altar, so far as the world could sec, had faithfully kept to her vows; only my heart felt the force of their emptiness, realized she never had and never could love me; why, then, should we keep up a poor, petty farce of wedded life? At twenty I was ardent, impulsive, full of wayward but generous fancies, undeveloped in heart still more than mind, and looking forward to the dream-life youth hopes to bring into actual existence. An orphan and wealthy, What days those were! Long hours of pure, ¦ unalloyed bliss in the interchange of thought and feeling, so perfect we could not fail to see how well we were adapted to each other; that what I lacked she possessed in an eminent de-after graduating at college I came home to the gree. She never seemed to doubt me, or wonder if I would cease to love her as I did now; the self-torture haunting so many, found no home in her pure, unworldly heart. She had seen so little of the life actual, what marvel if the world was rose-hued and sunny to her? In the moonlight evenings we would walk down the sandy beach, and there, with no human step or human voice to break in upon us, talk over the happiness that was ours now, and would be ours in all years to come. Above, the bright estate left me by my father, and with all the fervor of my years began to enjoy life. I was surrounded by all that could render existence desirable. The rooms at Oaklands were large and elegantly furnished — books, music, the most tempting-looking sofas, the quietest of housekeepers, and servants to come at the first summons; and the surroundings were not less enchanting. Lawns, fountains, gay parterres, shady walks, silvery lakes, leafy groves and dense woods made up the lands of which I was sole and undisputed possessor. In this luxu rious mansion I read, slept, and enjoyed myself after the fashion of other human beings. I had just begun to think this sort of life tiresome and monotonous, when an event occurred that aroused me. My guardian, who resided some miles distant, gave a ball, which I attended. I had quite a love for such amusements, and determined to enjoy myself to the utmost. Mr. Morley welcomed me warmly, chid me a little for not visiting him more frequently, and introduced me to a young lady visitor, for whom the ball had been given. I suppose up to that period I had never met so beautiful a woman; I do not think I have since. Her presence gave me the bewildering sensation one experiences in being too long in a room whose air is heavy with perfume. The hand I took in mine was white and soft, somewhat large, but the slender fingers sparkled with jewels. Gertrude Hayne was certainly a magnificent woman. She might have been twenty-five, perhaps; tall, with a Juno-like symmetry, and her abundant black hair was wreathed in a coil of heavy braids at the back of her finelyshaped head, with a simple white rose for ornament. Her features were very regular and clearly defined, as if cut in marble; her eyes, with their lashes and arched brows, were as jetty as her hair; but her complexion was dazzling white, and would have looked singular beside her hair and eyes, save for the delicate pink of her cheeks and deep red of her lips. I cannot conceive of any human face being nearer perfect, not a line too much, not a shade that could have been spared. Mr. Morley's ball was a decided success. It might have been owing to Mrs. Morley's perfect arrangement, winning manners, and the pains she took to render everything agreeable; but many gave the charm to Miss Hayne. She was a trifle too stately and distant, perhaps; yet she danced, chatted, promenaded with her admirers, making each one feel alternately proud and jealous. I, for one, had no cause to complain. After refusing all others, she danced with me; and, though she declared herself too much fatigued to stir, yet in ten minutes we were walking down the avenue lined by silver poplars. On account of the distance, Mr. Morley pressed me to remain the rest of the night, or rather morning; and I was no wise loath, for I wished to see my charmer by daylight. Miss Hayne was, if possible, more beautiful in her breakfast toilet than the costly attire of the previous night. She was particularly graeious, I thought; played and sang for me, and accepted an invitation to ride. Mr. Morley seemed decidedly pleased, and said, gayly :"That's right, Guy; I shall need a little of your assistance to make Miss Hayne's visit agreeable, and induce her to remain." I replied, gallantly, "I did not think she would suffer for want of attention anywhere." She bowed her head and smiled very sweetly. After that, nearly every day or evening found me at Mr. Morley's. Miss Hayne had no lack of admirers, and she was in a fair way of being surfeited by amusements. I did think it a trifle singular that she should defer to my taste or judgment when older and more ex perienced persons were present; but it pleased me too well to question it. One by one her train of followers dropped off, until at last I was left master of the field-a position I had not sought, and hardly knew how to fill. Miss Hayne had lengthened her visit of weeks into months, and when she spoke of leaving, her departure was warmly opposed by Mr. Morley, and frequently by myself. She resided with a cousin, a widow lady, about the only relative she had; and the quiet, secluded home-for both were in very moderate circumstances-was not to be compared with her present advantages for society and amusement. My twenty-first birthday was approaching, and, after consulting Mr. Morley, I decided to give a dinner party and ball. Oaklands was arranged and re-arranged from cellar to observatory; servants flew hither and thither; cooks steamed over the savory viands; but at last, from this chaos was created magnificent order. Mrs. Morley had superintended some of the arrangements, and Miss Hayne had, of course, been her companion. Quite late in the afternoon the latter sat down to the piano in her usual graceful and dignified manner, and commenced playing. I was not at all in love with her. True, I had been flattered by her preference, and pleased that I had sufficient power to attract such a splendid woman, and make a score of marriageable gentlemen envy me; but the difference in our ages, and her somewhat cold, formal nature, filled up, I thought, with a greater regard for appearances than real feeling, kept me from entertaining any very warm regard for her, though I will own I admired her exceedingly. Mr. Morley and I walked up and down the balcony, just within reach of the music. It was a beautiful Indian summer day; the hazy, golden sunlight lay like a mist, over the far wood and dusky lake, all repose and calm, forming a most enchanting picture. My guardian seemed revolving something in his mind; at length he broke silence by saying : 'You are a fortunate fellow, Guy, to be the possessor of such a place. I don't wonder half the world envies you.” "Why should they?" I returned, carelessly. "Doubtless I shall be no happier than my fellow mortals." He looked up in surprise; then uttered a |