The Black-Sealed Letter | Page 9

to return on the following
evening.
Frederick put on his hat and quietly followed her to the door, and in a
sort of undertone interrogated, "May I have the pleasure of seeing you
home to-night, Clara?"
"If you please," she replied. Fred very courteously complied therewith.
The character of their conversation on the way that night may be
guessed from the fact, that Fred and Clara became more lovingly
attached to each other than ever they had been.
Next day Fred hurried away to the house of his old master; and on the
following morning was at his former place as a journeyman and an
associate of his old companion and fellow-workman, Charles Holstrom.
Clara also found immediate employment. The Charlstons were once
more rendered happy at seeing Fred so spirited and reconciled; and also
the presence of little Richard gave a relish to their happiness.
Even old Collins was so well pleased with the change of affairs in his
own household that he gave expression to his joyous feelings by getting
pleasantly drunk every day for a whole week.

The beautiful days of summer glided smoothly along. The nights were
calm and refreshing. Under the exhilarating rays of the evening
moonlight, Fred and Clara frequently strolled out pleasantly together.
Feelings were reciprocated. Ideas of future prospects towered higher
than the moon. A happy home, brightened by the golden beams of the
honeymoon was seen peeping through the sylvan avenues of
imagination. A few months, perchance only a few weeks had only to
pass by, and their souls were to be pressed so closely together by the
legal stamp of matrimony that nothing but the chisel of death could be
able to separate them.
What a delightful picture of future life is often sketched by the artistic
fancy of the soul. What beautiful delineations of all that is exquisitely
pleasing and profitable! The scenes are of the grandest descriptions: the
coloring, of the richest hues, admirably shaded and intermingled. Even
the darkest spots are glistening by the surrounding beauty. All appears
as an enchanted dream; a glimpse of fairyland, or as a primeval
paradise modernized, and rendered suitable in every part to gratify the
desires of the mind.
But, alas! too frequently these prospects of ideality are built only upon
corner pillars, and tower to so great an altitude above their slender
bases, that their summits, like the top of Babel become mystified by the
clouds; and when the first storm of adversity, or the breath of insidious
circumstances are blown against them, they totter, and eventually fall
crashing to the earth, and lie scattered in shapeless ruins around their
basis.
But, perhaps, it is cruel to predict, or even to suggest, such ruinous
consequences to the moonlit dreams of that happy pair. Time alone can
unfold the mysterious realities of life. I will, therefore, pursue the
windings of their course, and note down the various incidents and
events as they are struck out, like the sparks from the heated iron under
the blacksmith's hammer.
CHAPTER IV.

We now come to that eventful evening referred to in chapter first, of
which a part of the proceedings is described. We shall now continue
our narration, and make known the consequences of that unfortunate
meeting.
No sooner had Clara departed from the house of Mr. Charlston than
Frederick, from some impulsive motive, glided out of the room; and
having hastily disguised himself in his father's great coat, hat and
muffler, hurried out, and followed in pursuit of Clara. In the vicinity of
the house at which she had left her acquaintance, he observed a young
man sauntering around. This person Fred discovered to be none other
than Charles Holstrom. So passing hurriedly onward without being
recognized he crossed over at the first corner to the other side of the
street and walked back. When nearly opposite the house referred to the
door opened and a young woman, alone, whom he knew to be Clara,
came out. She hurried forward only a few steps when Holstrom
wheeled around and addressed her; and having received her hand on his
arm they glided hastily along the street. Frederick was startled at the
reality. His blood flooded in tidal waves to his heart. His nerves
quivered. His soul became exasperated. He inwardly threatened
immediate violence to both parties. But having hastily checked the
outpourings of his resentment he secretly followed them, yet still
breathing volumes of deprecations which rose in steaming vapor from
his phrenzied brain.
"Can it be possible?" he soliloquised, "that Clara has been practising
deception upon my faithful affection? I have discovered when too late
that she has flattered my fond heart with her insidious wiles. I loved her
once, I despise her now. She has got rid of her child, and she is now