Mrs. Bolton

“ Bolton; "so I thought perhaps you'd called at the Rectory."
"I nearly did, then I turned towards Marehay instead."
The eyes of the two women met: Mrs. Bolton's grey and bright and searching; Connie's blue and veiled and strangely beautiful. Mrs. Bolton was almost sure she had a lover, yet how could it be, and who could it be? Where was there a man?
"Oh, it's so good for you, if you go out and see a bit of company sometimes," said Mrs. Bolton. "I was saying to Sir Clifford, it would do her ladyship a world of good if she'd go out among people more." ”

“ Bolton constantly reminded him. He insisted upon going with Mrs. Bolton and the children to the Friends Meeting on First Day, when Ruth and Alice and Philip, "world's people," went to a church in town, and he sat through the hour of silence with his hat on, in most exemplary patience. In short, this amazing actor succeeded so well with Mrs. Bolton, that she said to Philip one day,
"Thy friend, Henry Brierly, appears to be a very worldly minded young man. Does he believe in anything?" ”

“ His former courtship was renewed; and, when the days of mourning were over, and time had done much to alleviate grief, to restore the faded charms of Mrs Bolton, and to throw the events of the past into dimness and distance, they were united; and are still, according to the last accounts, living happily together, surrounded by a family of thriving children. Nelly Gray and Janet Baird still pursue their respective callings in Grassyvale—the latter never failing, on every possible occasion, to boast of her sagacity in detecting the real character of Mr Henry Wilkinson, alias Bolton. ”

“ Was it because when he had once spoken so crudely of the University I had seen the reflection of her spirit in his eyes? A light still burned in the extension roof—Krebs's light; another shone dimly through the ground glass of the front door. Obeying a sudden impulse, I crossed the street.
Mrs. Bolton, in the sky-blue wrapper, and looking more forbidding than ever, answered the bell. Life had taught her to be indifferent to surprises, and it was I who became abruptly embarrassed. ”

“ And she read the letter.
"Well, I am surprised at her ladyship," she said. "She promised so faithfully she'd come back!"
The face in the bed seemed to deepen its expression of wild, but motionless distraction. Mrs. Bolton looked at it and was worried. She knew what she was up against: male hysteria. She had not nursed soldiers without learning something about that very unpleasant disease.
She was a little impatient of Sir Clifford. Any man in his senses must have known his wife was in love with somebody else, and was going to leave him. ”

“ Rage and jealousy swelled the heart of Bolton. He panted rather than breathed; and though his long-desired hour of vengeance on them both had come, he too was paralysed, trembling, and irresolute. The Earl gave him a glance of uncertainty; but Bolton saw only Mariette. Conscience whispered "to pause," while there was yet time; but the bond had been signed, the stake laid, and to waver was to die!
For a moment a blindness fell upon his eyes, and a sickness on his heart; and the Earl said to Hepburn in a hollow accent—
"Thy poniard—thy poniard! Thou hast it! The king, the king! ”

“ Bolton's opinion, but Annie felt that there was a want of perspective and proportion in it, arising from the narrowness of Mrs. Bolton's experience and her ignorance of the world; she was farm-bred, and she had always lived upon the outskirts of Hatboro', even when it was a much smaller place than now. But Mrs. Bolton had her criterions, and she believed in them firmly; in a time when agnosticism extends among cultivated people to every region of conjecture, the social convictions of Mrs. Bolton were untainted by misgiving. ”

“ One doubts if they exist to any startling degree even in oneself.
"The scandal of the keeper continues and gets bigger like a snowball. Mrs. Bolton keeps me informed. She reminds me of a fish which, though dumb, seems to be breathing silent gossip through its gills, while ever it lives. All goes through the sieve of her gills, and nothing surprises her. It is as if the events of other people's lives were the necessary oxygen of her own.
"She is preoccupied with the Mellors scandal, and if I will let her begin, she takes me down to the depths. ”

“ After the painful interview with her husband in the church of Grassyvale, Mrs Bolton returned to her father, secluding herself from the world, and devoting her time to household duties and the education of her son. Rumours of the death of her husband penetrated at last to the remote part of the country where she resided, and, on its being officially authenticated, Dr G——, who had commenced practice in a neighbouring town, became a frequent visiter at the farmhouse. ”

“ Bolton written for the Ladies' Repository at Cincinnati:
To extricate himself from his difficulties, he opened a tavern on his farm, a short distance west of the city of Indianapolis. Mrs. Bolton, then scarcely seventeen years old, found herself encumbered with the care of a large dairy, and a public house. To aid as much as possible in relieving her husband from embarrassment, she dispensed with help, and with her own hands, often for weeks, and months, performed all the labor of the establishment. ”

“ Bolton also! Do the men run mad? But he was safe in his offer. That woman, his wife, will outlive us all.”
The Duchess resumed her seat, but took her friend’s hand.
“I had rather hear you own you loved him—I can’t tell why, but ’tis so. Better pain than self-scorn.”
Lady Fanny laughed as sweet but not as true as the bird’s song.
“What use to give a diamond when a string of glass beads would be preferred? And if lost, they matter much less. Rejoice with me, Kitty, since the beads are lost, that they were glass and never saw Golconda. Now spare my pride, and let us speak of Bolton. ”

“ He resigned his seat; he wasn't going to wait to be turned out, he said, either by divorce or by bankruptcy, or by both at once. He never went home now. As a last concession to appearances, he took a room at his club. Mrs. Bolton now urged him to fight—since things had gone so far. Of course he would have to tell lies! But there were circumstances in which everybody told lies! She was ready to back him through thick and thin. If they could get Lady Harriet into the box and cross-examine her thoroughly, they could rely on a great deal of sympathy from a jury of husbands. ”

“ Eastlake followed Gertrude into the "Alfonso," and soon dinner was announced. The steward, thoughtlessly, had forgotten in New York to purchase flowers for the table, but they were not missed.
There are women in this world whose presence is so enjoyable that they rival the charm of both art and flowers. Their voices, their grace of manner, their interest in you and your welfare, laden the air with an indescribable something that exhilarates. Their presence is like the sunshine that warms and perfumes a conservatory; you inhale the odors of roses, pinks, and climbing jessamines. ”

“ What choice has a man in Bolton’s case? Either he must take the vile pleasures of the town, or sink into a soured loneliness, or make a home with some woman kind and tender that will keep youth and joy green in him. Can I trust you, Fanny—if I say something in my mind? I don’t speak idly, as you know.”
“You can trust me. I tell you I love Bolton—and—I don’t wholly hate your Grace!” says Lady Fanny, smiling also. She stretched her hand behind her painted fan, and the Duchess quickly claspt and dropt it. Little did the Duke know what those fair creatures plotted as he glanced their way idly. ”

“ Connie heard it all with deepening dismay and repulsion. It was one of the ghastly half-truths that poison human existence. What man in his senses would say such things to a woman! But men aren't in their senses. What man with a spark of honour would put this ghastly burden of life-responsibility upon a woman, and leave her there, in the void?
Moreover, in half an hour's time, Connie heard Clifford talking to Mrs. Bolton, in a hot, impulsive voice, revealing himself in a sort of passionless passion to the woman, as if she were half mistress, half foster-mother to him. ”

“ Mrs. Bolton has spent several years of her life abroad, and she now resides near Indianapolis. She has published "The Life and Poems of Sarah T. Bolton" (Indianapolis, 18S0) . Her last volume is entitled "The Songs of a Lifetime." This volume is edited by Professor Ridpath, of De Pauw Uniersity, with a preface by General Lew Wallace. Mrs. Bolton is in poor health, but her pen is not idle. ”

“ Bolton, with a son and daughter, resides still at Indianapolis. She possesses property Avhich affords her family competent support.
Wliile in Europe, Mrs. Bolton wrote graphic letters for the Cincinnati Commercial, and contributed numerous poems to its columns and to those of the New York Home Journal, which were suggested by observations or experiences in Switzerland. She publishes rarely now. Her poems have never been collected. We trust she will collect them, and, before another year has elapsed, gratify her friends with a volume. ”

“ Human liberty is well worthy of a mother's fostering care.
Mr. Bolton was appointed consul to Geneva, Switzerland, by President Pierce, in the spring of 1855. Mrs. Bolton and her daughter, Sallie Ada, accompanied him to Eui'ope. They spent the summer of 1856 in Italy, and the autumn of the same year in Germany. In the spring of 1857 Mrs. Bolton and daughter returned to Indiana. They had been home but a few weeks, when a letter was received from Mr. Bolton, which stated that he had been ill, but was convalescent. Mrs. ”

“ Like every other true-hearted woman, Mrs. Livermore had been deeply stirred by passing events. When Abraham Lincoln's call for seventy-five thousand men was eagerly responded to, she was in Boston, and saw the troops, all unused to hardships, start for the battle-fields. The streets were crowded with tens of thousands. Bells rung, bands played, and women smiled and said good-bye, when their hearts were breaking. After the train moved out of the station, four women fainted; nature could no longer bear the terrible strain. Mrs. Livermore helped restore the women to consciousness. ”

“ The archdeacon was preparing to introduce Bolton, without noticing his embarrassment, when the bishop anticipated the introductory speech by saying, as he held out his hand, "Mr Bolton and I are old friends—may I not say so?"
A man of less self-possession than our friend the curate might have been put quite at his ease by the kind tone and manner, and warm grasp of the hand. ”

“ Bolton was well described in an article written for the New York Home Journal, in 1850, by Robert Dale Owen:
With a finely formed head, and ample intellectual forehead, her countenance, without boasting regularity of feature, is of highly pleasing expression, especially when lighted up, as in conversation it usually is, by the bright and cheerful spirit within. Her manners are frank, lively and winning, with little of conventional form and much of genuine propriety about them. ”

“ You know Henry he keeps th’ post office; an’ ’most everybody for miles around comes after their mail to th’ store. I’ll tell him to put up a sign, right where everybody will see; something like this: ‘Miss Lydia Orr wants to buy the old furniture of the Bolton house.’ And you might mention casual you’d pay good prices for it. ’Twas real good, solid furniture, I remember.... Come to think of it, Mrs. Bolton collected quite a lot of it right ’round here. She was a city girl when she married Andrew Bolton, an’ she took a great interest in queer old things. ”

“ There was no fire in the parlor. She would be forced to bring him out to the kitchen. She thought of the wide, luxuriously furnished rooms of Bolton house and unconsciously her face hardened. She might pretend she did not hear the bell. She might allow him to go away, thinking none of the family were at home. She pictured him, standing there on the doorstep facing the closed door; and a perverse spirit held her silent, while the clock ticked resoundingly. Then all at once with a smothered cry she hurried through the hall, letting the door fall to behind her with a loud slam. ”

“ The woman's tact at once divined that his love for Caroline had only grown with time, and the scarce suppressed eagerness with which he listened to any tidings from her led on from step to step in mutual confidence, till there was nothing more to be told, and Bolton felt that the only woman he had ever loved, loved him in return with a tenacity and intensity which would be controlling forces in her life. ”

“ Bolton-Brown was silent; he faced about to the stern again and stared at the rush of the ship. Then shifting his position once more: "Won't the engagement, before they've done, develop into the regular thing?"
Hugh felt as if his mother were listening. "I dare say not. If there were even a remote chance of that, Mary wouldn't have consented."
"But mayn't he easily find that—charming as she is—he's in love with her?"
"He's too much taken up with himself."
"That's just a reason," said Bolton-Brown. "Love is selfish." ”

“ She had learnt one particular that might furnish a clue in the maze—namely that my Lord and the Duke of Bolton were now seldom together. The Duchess she dared not approach. A slap in the face from that white but powerful hand was as likely a finish to what her Grace might consider impertinence as any other. But Bolton——! A lady may count on a courteous answer from a gentleman she knows and honours, whether he reveal the truth or no. She had therefore writ him the sweetest little perfumed billet requesting his company next day. As an old friend. ”