Scotland/Scots > Wilson's tales of the Borders and of Scotland > Volume 3

TALES OF THE BORDERS.
had a letter from you about a week ago, and she and Mr.
Henry wenl off in a poshay together next day. They said
they would be back to-day.”
I said no< a word in reply, but buried my face in my
folded arms on the table, while the cold perspiration flowed
over my bn w, and my heart sickened within me, as the
fatal truth by degrees broke upon me.
“ Fool, fond fool, that I was, to have been so long blind!”
muttered I; “ but it cannot be!—Julia!—my Julia!—no,
no! ” And I almost cursed myself for the unworthy sus¬
picion. But why dwell longer upon these moments of
agony ? My first surmise was a correct one. In a week’s
time all was known. My brother, my brother Harry, for
whom I would have sacrificed fortune, life itself, had be¬
trayed my dearest trust, and had become the husband of
her I had fondly thought my own. The blow was too
sudden and overpowering; I sunk beneath it. My reason
became unsettled, and for several months I was uncon¬
scious of my own misery. I awoke to sense, an altered
man. My heart was crushed, my very blood seemed to
be turned into gall; I hated my kind, and resolved to
seclude myself for ever from a world of falsehood and in¬
gratitude. The only tie which could have reconciled me
to life had been wrenched away from nae during my un¬
consciousness: my brother’s misconduct had broken my
father’s heart, and I was left alone in the world. I paid
one sad visit to my father’s grave, shed over it bitter tears
of sorrow and disappointment, and from that hour to this
I have never seen the home in which I passed so many
happy days. Some months afterwards, I received a letter
from a friend residing in Wales, of a very extraordinary
nature, requiring me instantly to visit him, and stating
'shat he had something of importance to communicate to
me. I knew the writer, and confided in him; he had
known my misfortune, and went with me over the loss of