There was a time, when I would not have believed, that a cloud of sorrow
could have cast its shadow over my soul, on the day I should be wedded
to Lenore. But I did not then understand myself; or the circumstances
in which Fate was capable of placing me.
Ten years have elapsed, since that day of mingled joy and sadness--ten
years of, I may almost say, unalloyed happiness, in the companionship of
a fond affectionate wife. During this time, I have made a few intimate
friends; and there is not one of them would believe--from the quiet,
contented manner in which I now pass my time that I had ever been a
"Rolling Stone." Since becoming a "Benedict," I have not been
altogether idle. Believing that no man can enjoy life, so well as he
who takes a part in its affairs, I was not long settled in London,
before entering into an occupation.
I am now in partnership with Captain Nowell, who has long since
professionally forsaken the sea; and we are making a fair fortune, as
ship agents and owners.
The only misunderstanding that has ever arisen between my brother
William and myself, has been an occasional dispute: as to which of us is
the happier.
We often hear from "the Elephant" and our sister Martha. The last
letter received from them, informed us that we might soon expect to see
them on a visit to the "old country."
After the melancholy event that deprived them of their daughter, Mr H--
and his family could no longer endure a residence in England; but
returned to their colonial home. They lived to see little Rosa married,
and happy--some compensation, perhaps, for the sorrow caused by her
sister's sad fate.
Cannon and Vane I only knew afterwards as occasional acquaintances. I
have just heard of their meeting in Paris, where a quarrel occurred
between them--resulting in a duel, in which the latter was killed. I
have also heard, that, since the affair, Cannon has been seen at
Baden-Baden--earning his livelihood as the croupier of a gaming table!
Mrs Nagger and my brother's wife did not continue many months under the
same roof; and the old housekeeper is now a member of my household--a
circumstance of which I am sometimes inclined to say in her own words,
"More's the pity;" but this reflection is subdued, every time it arises,
by respect for her many good qualities, and a regard for the welfare of
my children.
Her days will probably be ended in my house; and, when that time comes,
I shall perhaps feel inclined to erect over her grave a stone, bearing
the inscription:
"Jane Nagger,
Died
And more's the pity!"
Yet, I hope that many years may pass, ere I shall be called upon to
incur any such expense on her account.
There was a time when roaming through the world, and toiling for Lenore,
I thought I was happy. When riding over the broad plateaux of Mexico,
amidst the scenes of lonely grandeur that there surrounded me--as also
when toiling amidst the scenes of busier life in California--I believed
my existence to be one of perfect happiness. I was travelling, and
toiling, for Lenore.
But now that years have passed, and Lenore is mine--I find that what I
then deemed happiness was but a prophetic dream. It is while seated by
my own tranquil hearth, with my children around me, and she by my side--
that true happiness finds its home in my heart.
When I allow my thoughts to dwell solemnly on the gifts that God has
bestowed upon me, I feel grateful to that Providence that has watched
over my fortunes, and ruled my heart to love only one--_only_ "Lost
Lenore."