Oh, life of blisses! Oh, hours of too-brief happiness! Why passed away—why gone—gone for ever? The moments were too bright to endure, and a cloud crossed the sun of my young and ardent love, raining tears—tears of agony upon my earthly paradise. Doubt, suspicion, hope, fear, all swept across my trusting spirit ere I would give entrance to that fearful brain-enslaving jealousy—maddening jealousy. Oh, but it was a hard battle, for I could not believe her false, even though the evidence was clear as the noon-day sun. The current of my life was changed, and from an open trusting soul I became a spy. I dogged her footsteps, coward that I was, for I dared not upbraid her. But the villain who had robbed me of my peace, for him was reserved the corked-up bottle of my wrath, ready for pouring upon his devoted head. I felt that I could rend him limb from limb, and tear out his false, deceitful heart. I had three times seen him leave the house, and knew him at once as a rival. I hated him with ten thousand-fold fury, but still I must be just. Of noble mien, of polished exterior he was fitted by nature to gain the heart of a weak woman; and even as I passed him I fancied that I could trace a smile of triumph beneath his black moustache. For yes, he passed me almost upon the steps of the house, and then entering a well-appointed brougham, he was driven off.
For days I watched for this demon in black, with his dark eyes, lustrous hair and whiskers, and glistening teeth, for he was, in my sight, a dark tempter, but he did not return. But I saw something which set my brain almost on fire. She left the house morning after morning, and my heart whispered that it was to keep assignations with the treacherous villain.
But I did not upbraid her; I was cheerful and sarcastic in her presence, while she grew strained and strange. And I, knowing that my manner had produced the change, laughed a loud, long, harsh laugh, and left the house with a dramatic scowl upon my brow, and at last, after days of watching, I followed her with the sensation of a hand clutching and compressing my heart. My temples throbbed, my brain swam, and as I hurried along I stumbled against the passers-by.
At last I staggered so heavily against a man that an altercation ensued, a crowd collected, and when I escaped, the cab that I had been tracking was gone.
Oh, the tortures I suffered! oh, the agonies of my mind! but impotent as I felt, what could I do, but wait hours until I saw her return, and then with closely-drawn veil hurry into the house, where I dared not trust myself to follow, for I felt, oh! so bad—so dreadfully bad, I didn’t know what to do.
I returned to my abode where I offended my father, upset my mamma, and quarrelled viciously with my poor saintly sisters. And oh! what a night I passed! In the morning when gazing in the mirror, I started with affright from the wretch who met my gaze.
“Take some medicine, Alfy,” exclaimed mamma, when she saw that I turned with disgust from my breakfast.
Kind, well-meant words, but what medicine would ease my sorely-distressed mind. But no, I could not eat; and though hours too soon, I could contain myself no longer, but hurried off, engaged a cab, driven by a tiger, who afterwards preyed fearfully upon my pocket, and then had the vehicle posted, where, unseen, I could watch the door of her habitation. The hours passed slowly away as I sat gnawing my fingers, and comparing the present tempest of the heart with the past bliss.
“Go, ungrateful!” I exclaimed aloud.
“Where, sir?” said the cabman; coming to the door and touching his hat.