n. r.
VOLUME 20.
Irltrt
TUV larzoNsauT (moan.
flow solemn sounds the midnight clock,
'When half the earth Is hushed In sleep!
Like distant thunder's sudden shock,
It bresksthe silence, still and deep,
And wakens. with a fearful knell.
Strange feelings In the hearers heart.
As if it were the tolling bell
Proclaiming sadly—dust thou art:
Even thus front itlr welsh tower.
it knells by night the dying hour. -
The strokes hare erased—but their deep sound
Still lingers in the listener sear,
Then, floating slowly, spreads around
Upon the dewy atmosphere:
But now no sound the ear can mark,
In silence bath expired the strain.
A silence deathlike, deep and dark
The silence Of Night's slutrilfrons reign.
Another hour bath Joined the past:
Another wave of Time, that tore
Out barks which nevet rest, Is east
Upon that unreturning shore,
Where Memory wanders oft to.seek '
'Phu relics which thailide bath strewn—
Loqt gems and faded floWers which speak
or brighter .4pringq, when they were sown
And thus we muse, till slumber Mad,
That mighty death of daily life.
Enthralls and leads the captive mind
Through hails with dreamy shadows rife;
Yet while we rest through awful night.
While earth is dark, and heaven sublime,
Nor heed the moment's rapid flight, •
That sleepless sentinel of time
Proclaims aloud, from that lone tower,
The night of every passing flour. Dollar Newspaper
,3t tonitutre.
GRACE ATHERTON,
OR TRIP.
ATTORNEIT 13t017817.
DT H, B. T
From the BOsloll Olive Dra nth
[coNTlNtlEre.)
Without a word, the attorney ascended to his room,
and pushing a chair towards hie Son, seated himself be
fore the firo, and rubbed his withered fingers together in
thelruddy light, in dogged silence, as if he had boon the
only living being in that old house. Richard Scrivener'
bad expected a,tulally different reception
,that night.—
Rendered desperate by heavy losses at play, which ho
was fully aware had come to tho old man's knowliidge,
he had brateed his presence, anticipating a storm of re
proaches, and prepared to meet them in an attitude of
cool defiance. With such apprehensions he had entered
the bowie. The +attorney, however, had cho;en a bet
ter policy. Calmly, and like a statue, ho sat thero ws tch
ing his son, and enjoying the baffled, incredulous expres
sion of his face. The young man was annoyed. Any
thing would have been better than that chilling silence,
that searching glance, which he felt was reading hiayery
Bout
”Coinc, my boy,'! said the attorney filling hie glass,
••'l;5 a bad night without. What with a cold)teart and
a cold stomach, a man would have small chance for life
in such weather as thin. Drink," said he, pushing the
bottle towards his eon as he spoke,, and' watching him
sharply. The young man swallowed the wine at a
draught, and setting his glass upon the table, looked in
credulously at his 'father. He was baffled by that terri
ble "sang (raid," "that affectstion of mirth, iu the quiet
yet bitterly sarcastic smile playing upon the attorney's
face. His own accuatotnod “nonchalance" forsook him,'
and he sat there, dumb, as if }wondering what was to
come next.
'"Richard!" maid 'his father sharply, "yoaovo been
gambling. Bob," said ho, "don't be nottlenT that." as
an angry flush camo into the young mates cheek. "It
is a vulgar practice, boy," continued the lawyer, "you
should bo.more fastidious in your ways and moans of get
ting on in the world, that's ail. Avoid risks. Hazard
all for gold, but first lay the game deep and well: Had
you followed these maxims, you would not have come
here to-night." .
Richard Scrivener raised his head, and looked with
astonishment upon the little ugly figure before him. He
experienced a kind of terror in the'cotiviction that he was
reed and sifted io the very depths of his soul by that man,
and the thought chafed him sorely,
"You have lost deeply," continued the attorney, "and
want money to settle your debts: is it not so?"
'
.!Now listen to me. From your iiitoucy up to this
hour you have been dependent on me, you plunged into
01 . 4 gaities of the world; you came and wenvat your will,
without a check upon your career. When your excesses
threatened you with disgrace, an arm was interpobtd,
and an active brain worked out' your rescue. To the
world you offered a fair exterior, because your follies and
vices were covered up. And wholhas done this 7" said
the old wan hercely, "but the little ugly miser from his
old black den: It is not to soproach you, that I bring
back the past," continued the attorney, speaking more
softly. "I do not complain that you h'avo a hundred
tunes become invelvid in extremities like the present,
and that a hundred times my hand extended the aid but
for which you would have been the inmate of a prison."
The young man winced at the bitter sarcasm with
which this was said, and moved uneasily in his chair.
"I don't complain. Richard, that you have been indebt
ed to; me for everything, or call you thankless because
you never recompensed me by so much ea a word fur all
that I hive done. When a boy, you had a right to ex
peer it of me. In later years, I might have CUE you off.
Mon- scent to be dependent on the bounty of others.—
You were a man, but furbode to withhold from you that
assistancewhich should hive been the fruit of your own
toil. Up to this hour every wish has been gratified—ev
ery wont met without condition or question." The at
torney paused and looked keenly at his M.
Shame and pride had crimsoned the youug man's
cheek, and his eyes flashed at the calm Irony, and the
smile of withering contempt that accompanied these
words but he made no answer.
"You have gambled away $5,000," said Mr. Scrive
ner sharply, suddenly starting to his feel and confronting
his eon. "You ire in debt to that amount, and must
Pay i 4 or go to prison: is it not so?"
"Yrs."
"And you came here to-night. expecting that the old
miser's coffers would asever. minister to your aced. and
Cover up your beggary. and that without even the recom
pense of thanks."
"1 have lost all," replied Richard. "You are my only
hope. If you cannot aid me lam ruined." He spoke
very low and his cheek grew pato ut tho terrible alterna
tive his words hed called up.
•
"I saittnot that I would not helpl yen," continued his
father. "Five thousand dollars is a l t large awn:" a deep
sigh escaped him as the words pissed his lips. "Yes. a
large sum, Richard, for an old man like me. to pay. but
YOU shall have it, and--" • • the sentence we.
untluitlaed—his hands wore suddenly sidled in a warm
clasp and before him stood hie son pouring out hie thanks
' a broken, .yet grateful words. •
i 1
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The attorney disliked such bursts of feeling. e fore
know that the next words he should utter would call forth
very Verent emotions, end with a gesture of disgust.
the hand clasping his own was flung of end the old man
n
i ii
with a mediciorta laugh tit'the mingled astonish ent and
terror depicted on the face \ hefore him, broke the fiance.
His voice harsh end bitter in its tones, "Tako'b et your
thanks, boy, until hovel, heard the condition, hon re
peat them if you will. Marry Grace Athena,. and .1
will be responsible for your debt—refuse, and y'ou are
from this moment, a beggar: "
Richard Scrivener was thunderetruck, at firs at the
unlimited furcondition imposed upon him, and the at the
subtle policy pursued by the! attorney, with refer nce to
this end, which now, withou l t the aid of esplanati n from
him, flashed up .o his mind. How plaiu it we ! He
had been kept dependent, not permitted to carve Out for
himself a name and fortune through the southl nee of
parental affection end doting fondness, while it only ren
dered him the mom helpless and passiveln the hands of
that parent, as an instrument of Perfectigig his ambitions
schemes. He remembered the apparent easualr ) i of his
first acquaintance with Grace. flow that now v!oeinerl
like the first stop in a skilfully contrived plot. Htl called
•to mind the env familiarity with which Mrs. Atherton
had treated him. How, in spite of hie escapee an , reck
less ammeter} he had been tacitly admitted into he house
in terms of friendly intercourse—had been as it were in
cidentally thrown into tho society of her young and love
ly daughter, and how, to centre there his aifectiois, she
had been, on the attorney's lips, a constant theme of
,praiso. while at the same time they were a'more insiduous
auxiliary to the, work, in dm utterance of such maxims
and councils as made him averse to the compani,lnship
of others-of her sex. The thought of havmg bqii the
old man's . dtme, and being led blindfold. as it were, into
a union which, he made no doubt, was prOjected ly him
for the accomplishment of seine new, ambitious or villain
ous pui pose, maddened the young man, and h i e was
about retorting .angrily upon his father; but the Wily at
torney instantly comprehending that be had misjudged
his son, by so prematurely disclosing his plow, hastened
to repair kite error. and interrupted him with a calm ex
'planation of the condition lie had so abruptly imj:osed.
Ho dwelt on the advantages that world accrue fro such
aim alliance; the beauty of Grate. the immense Wealth
which she would be dowered, and the sum of influence
and power that would grow out of a union between the
houses of Atherton and Scrivener. Then for the first
time, unfolded to the dazzled gaze of the young man the'
treasures of his own.vost wealth, and pledged luet that
thoy should all be hie. at no distant 'period. Ho epeko
touchingly of his own long cherished hopos in the mat
tot, bow hie 'very life was hound up in their realiz
and besought him not to bring sorrow upon his
heart, and whiten his locks cot untouched by Tint
tho grave, by spurning the !sat request Ito Woutti
lEEE
Richard Scrivener wns baffled by ilia afreetionate,
did air so skilfully assumed in the tones and looks
old man, stundmg meekly before him as a sup pl cam,
pleading with sublime disinterestedness, for the happi
ness Of his son, at the brilliant destiny proffed to t hin),
and in ',pito of his heartlessness and corrupt principles,
tho image of Grace as his wife, called up by the attor
ney's words. in all its gentle beauty, awakened in lie
breast vague emotions of pleasure. But it toes, amity
when the recollection of the old man's words: "Refuse
and yon are from tills 'moment a beggar:" came over
hie', and he felt how powerless ho was in his hands,
that the thought of accepting the condition Unposed, as
the o nly alternative, grow stron t ;er until it became a con
viction. Ile had spoken no word, but the compressed
lip, and flushed cheek mirrored his very soul under the
attorney's keen glance, and that was intelligible enough
for him.
Ife had triumphed! To the'dearest wish of his heart,
a full assent, hid passed the lips of his son—soaled with
a fearful 'oath—and there was witness to the compact—the
little dwarf. Tho letter had not risen from his post at
tho keyhole since the entrance of Richard Scrivener
Nof.a word of the foregoing conversation had escaped
him. Ho listened with the most imperturbable gravity,
until it ceased, and the attorney's son, after draining his
glass 011C3 more, to the health of Primo Atherton, pre-
pared to depart-, then laughing maliciously to himself,
the humpback glided in his shambling way through the
corridor, and taking the flight of steps before describcd
as loading to a back range of buildings, desCended ra
pidly, heeding not the profound darkness that altroitded
his path, but with the ease of one evidently familiar With
all the intricacios of that!old mansion, until Ito Alund
himself in the sumo passage eoun4ting Mesa build ngs
ith the house itsolf. Ifero he stopped. A gust of %tint]
telOstied sharply though a crevice to the watt just a his
feet. Stooping down, the dwarf slipped one hand within
it. and with &slight effort removed ono of the sto4s,
disclosing an aperture of sufficient extent to admit of
his passing readily. Another moment, and ho was upon
the other hide of the ivull, standing in Court.
•
Quielsly adjusting the i•tone in its place, the little fi g ure
shuffled along through the court, crossed the street, and
buried himself in the shadows of the lofty houses. lle
had hot watched !Ong before the door of the Attorney
House opens noiselessly. A sudden gleam of light—a
haggard face peeping out open the night—the clasping of
hands, aitd parting words hurriedly exchanged, and'; all
was darkness again. A moment after, a feeble ray, of
light g limmered from the window of the attorney's morn.
while a figure passed clown the court, muttering a cu so
upon the obscurity and wildness of the night. The stoem
had not abated. There bad been a moment's peace
among the warring elements of the sky that night; and
but one: it was when that oath stained the lips of Rich
ard Scrivener in that desolate chamber. So fehrful the
silence, succeeding the mad riot of wind and rain, that
itseemed as if the pulse oflife, natural und physical, had
run down. The pledge was given, and upon that sub
lime pause, came anew the rush of the tempest's wing;
on it went, sweeping, and waving, with its icy breath,
spinning like a top down wide gaping,chitrineys—whh
ling up whole eddies of dead leaves, and scattering
them miles and miles away, upon the open fields—un
hinging crazy old shutters, tearing away, up the long
alleys. in search of old inns, and eliciting dismal shrieks
from 'the sign of the punch bowl, swinging and creaking
at a mosi desperate rate beneath the venerable elm. It
was bitterly cold, too. The rain fell in torrents, chang
ing to ice the instant it touched the pave:
Wrapping his cloak more closely around him, Richard
Scrivener bent his steps homeward, He lodged in a
distant part of the city, yet long as seemed the way thith
er, tempestuous and wild as was the night, the tittle dwarf
heeded - it not, while dogging with steadfastness of pur
pose that retreating figure to the very threshold of the
door. , When he had entered the dwelling, the hump
back, guided by a faint dimmer from a lamp, possessed
himself of every feature by which he could readily Iden
tify the spot at any future time, and thou. chuckling to
himself and rubbing his hands together in evident glee,
making sundry grotesque contortions with his uncouth
figure. at the house he bad, just inspected, he shambled
otrta the direetiort of Court.
The clock in the attorney's chamber struck one. land
its little round dial face was no longer visible in the fading
firelight. as the old man extlagaiihed his lamp and threw
himself upon a bed in ono corner of the room, to dream
of the marriage etßichard Scrivener and Grace . Ather
ton. At the same moment. a MVO; ?eud and shrill, LI
SATURDAY MORNING, AVGUST 11, 1849.
suing as from under his windovic without, full upon hie
ear. Ha! how like to that mocking echo that" struck
terror to his heart before! Yes: very like it was. The
attorney sprang to the window and looked below Ile
was not sure, but it seemed to him that ho could per
naive a dark object crouched and moving slowly down
the court. I As. he looked, his eyes aching with the effort
to penetrate that intense darkness, involuntarily cloqedi
when they opened again, the figure was gone.
A moment after, the dwarf sallied into the street, and
presently disappeared in a neighboring cellar, at the en
trance of which, swung a lantern illuminating n highly
colored illustration of "Oysters and Beer" painted upon
its cracked sides. Half asleep over a Handful 9f cools
upon the hearth, eat an old negro. the proprietor of tho
establishment. He started at the entrance of tho hump
back, and grumbled ont something about the lateness of
the hour, but the dwarf mode him no, answer. Flinging
himself upon a pallet of straw in one corner, without a
word to his sable landlord, he was presently Ina sound
•
In email but neatly furnished apartment situated in
rho outskirts of the city, on the evening of the day suc
ceeding the events in my last chapter, might have been,
seen a young girl seated before a low easel, surrounded
by certain atiplianses which at once indtcated her to be
the author of the beautiful painting alto was, contempla
ting. It was portrait of a young and very 'lovely girl,
in a style of beauty singularly contrasting with and hard
ly surpassing that displayed in the features of the youth
ful artist herself. The eyes were blue and deep as a
suguner sky. A braid of pearls confined the hair to a
small and exquisitely SlMped head, save two or three
gold 6u ringlets which lay caressingly upon the sunny
brow. There was something demure, half sportive, yet
womanly in the arch smile wreathing the lips—en Infan
tile grace blended with a dash of hauteur in hat attitude
as portrayed by the artist. It was a face in which were
united at once the artless simplicity of girlhood, and the
riper lovelitess and thoughtful mien of the mature wo
man. The young girl who had but now finished this
beautiful picture, sat with ono hand pressed to her pale
cheek,gazim! upon it in rapt silence. Ider own beauty
was faultless, yet \ its elements were less physical in their
character, and appealed more to the soul and mind of the
beholder. Her face was pale, the features small and
exquisitely chiselled. Long, silken lashes drooped over
her jetty eyes, and, front the pure intellectual brow, a mess
of rich brown hair waved away behind the beautifully
rounded oar. Her form, slight and graceful, yet betray
inglin the swelling outline and softiy rounded prim rho
perfect development of womanhood, was simply attired
in a mourning garb, the sombre aspect of which wan
relieved by a snug cambric collar clasped round her Men
der throat. Tho quiet elegmee and refinement of man
ner displayed'by this young girl. seemed, at first, strange
ly contrasted with the simplicity and plainness of the
apartment she occupied, but on closer inspection of its
appointments, this apparent incongruity vanished. Iler
perfect skill and taste had effected so harmonious a dis
position and grouping of them, thnt they wore to the
lovely artist,. what the graceful airy costume was to the
figure . . glowing on the canvass before her. In the cen
tre of the room stood a table spread for the evening meet.
The kettle sang cheerfully on the hearth. A golden can
ary swung before the window mid bathed himself in the
slant rays of the setting sun. The young girl glanced at
the clock, then rose and coated herself at the window,
and with an air of impatience, looked out
r ota the now
quiet street.]
lion.
I ()Ling
0, for
lIM
Call
f tho
"Lie will soon be here," who sold in o /OW '.oleo.
.•%Vhat a surprise it will he to him!" gLincing ns she
spoke, at the easel. A merry smile dimpled her cheek
and danced in her black eyes, tvhdor she looked. "A
woman's stratagem, trust mo Philip, will confirm my
song cherished suspicions. Ab! hero comes the truant."
Saying this, the girl sprang to the door, and in
another moment was folded to the heart of her brother.
Flinging off his cloak, ho displayed an athletic form, and
a face of m ingled sweetness and gravity, breathing a
manly beauty i s ir every line.- We oyes wore dark land
somewhat haughty in their glance, yet now ins he bent
tenderly over the fair girl and kissed her check, they
beamed softly and filled with a loving light.
"Dear Philip! you were gone such a weary while,"
said his sister leaning gently on her brother's arm
.Ali! Kato, do you miss me then, 60 mash ? All day.-
when toiling's° far from you, your sWeet face is ever be
fore me, he smile shines in so brightly upon my little
room, that myspirit gains strength and cheerfulness, and
all murmurings ut our changed lot aro kept down in my
heart. You have been a blessed angel to me, door Kate.
since our mother died." said tho young man caressing
fondly her cheek, now glowing with her brother's praise.
"But, dearest sister, you are tooltlng weary. Confess
now that thin air without has not once kissed that fair
cheek to-tiay."
"That were A small loss," replied Kate mischievously,
"if my good brother correctly estimates the gain tbreby."
She drew him laughingly to the easel, as she spoke,
and paused before it.
"Grace Atherton! do I diem, sweet sister?" exclaim
ed Philip, in mingled wonder and delight. Springing
from her side, lie knelt reverently before that face, so
still! so beautiful! Ilia lips moved. but the hush of that
room remained unbroken. His eyes sparkled, the crim
son rushed in torreMs'over face and brow, and his broad
cheat heaved with the powerful emotion th et swept over
his heart.
Kate, but uovv'the worry laughing girl at the artifice
employed to probe that heart, stood timidly back, with a_
more chastened, womanly feeling uppermost. Au ear
nest sympathy shone in her eyes, and a thrill of pleasure
came softly over her, el she witnessed the mute homage
of love roodored to its idol, as if she too, knew' what it
Wes to love.
"Dearest sister," said the young man, dropping his
fine oyes before her gentle gaze. and speaking very low,.
"you have tempted me beyond my strength. I had worn
his image in my heart, cult/11)., - and there was bliss in
that. It. was heaven to breathe the air she breathed,
though infinitely removed from her bright and beautiful
sphere A voice whispered me thou cutlet not soar thith
-1
Cr, thou poor and humble toiler, and thus my Kate, I was
beguiled into content. All pass on seemed crushed and s
blighted before that destiny which denied it the element
of heaven--love) All murmuring , against that decree
which, in our changed lot, blaOted h o pes that once might
'have caste to fruition, sinned hushed for ever. But now
ibis face," said he passionately. "brings back my wild
dreams. Those lips end eye have no mockery in their
repose, as I bid them speak a d shine only for me! A
ii
lt!"
he continue&bitterly, "not th a would 'the beautiful aq
high born Grace have looked ou me. There would lie
only scorn CO alt this deep, wild hairs,. Sate, you have
justly portrayed our sweet friend. Were the lips more
haughtily wreathed, as ilook, methinks 'mere more
true to the life."
“Play. Philip.” said the girl gently., "do not BO wrong
one who has boon an 'angel of meicy to as. Grace
Atherton is too good and noble to acorn as for oar pover•
ty. Has she not entered oar humble dwelling on missions
*flora end kiadnese~epeaking comfort to our hearts
when our dear mother left us.-.watching with me at your
aide. when yrin.lay stricken to the earth in defence of tier
life. tad breathing sterna gratitude in that's eloquent
looks and vrortle which Liam that hoar bade yes bora
And then. hew she went forth and spread the fame of
arorrwann.:4l
CIIAPTER Iv
the humble artist, until we came 'up from the depths of
want, to die possesSiou of ease and contentment, and but
now was sitting in your chair, Phillip..theit I might com
plete her beautiful face glowing there before us."
1:1,
Her brother answered not. His thou hts had flown
back to tho time when chance made hi at their first
meeting, the preserver of the beautiful b ing he loved.—
Howsloriously, like a vision of radiant loveliness, she
rode by them upon her gallant steed. A hour, and as
she again flew past, borne to inevitable d nth by the now
terrified animal, a strung grasp was laid pea the loos
ened rein, its flight arrested, but Phil p Marston lay
stricken to the earth by a blow from tho infuriated =ti
mid. Memories of a soft hand bathing his temples, and
a warm breath fragrant from her lips, upon his cheek.
were busy at his heart. How tenderly she hung over
him, and spoke her thanks in low, murmured words,
and the gentle pressure of those delicate fingers, even
yetthsilled his soul with a sense of exquisite, happiness.
And then came like the death knell ! of his new burn
hopes, the bitter realities of his humble life---poverty,
where pupped been affluence—toil, for hours oranse—
contempt and neglect, in mockery of past friendships,
and to him the cup of sorrow, affliction—casting himself
and Kate, orphans, upon the charities of a cold world.—
Yet it was riot all dark and cheerless in their Iteaven.—
A second time, Grace stood within that little room; and
from that hour, - peace and content dawned like a sun
burst upon the orphan's dwelling. Was it strange that
Philip loved, passionately hived this beautiful, this noble
one! He loved, with all the fervor and depth of a spirit
proud and sensitive, chained down in its lofty aspiration.,
by the iron Maeda, poverty, and jealously guarding its
secret from every human eye. And Green.? But we
must not anticipate.
"Philip, dear," said his sister, laying her hand softly
within hie. i.f`loolt nut thus sad and desponding. It were
no difficult task, methinks, for my brother to win the
love of ono whose cheek already crimsons at mention of
' his name." She looked up archly_into his face. .
"Kate," replied the young man in a tone of anguish.
"you would counsel at the dictates of a loving, — woman's
heart." . ,
As ho spoke, the girl started nervously. and her cheek
flushed and paled by turns under his gaze; .but ho heed
ed it not, and went on.
"But it is tnaducss in me to hopo. Graco Atherton
has hicure'd the humble mechanic with her gratitude and
estcont, but sho would scorn his suit. Wo are poor, sny
sister, she moves in ti sphere fur removed from ours; but,".
he added with kindling eye and curling lip, "we have
an honorable mido left us. Philip Marston may love.
but ho;trill never woo in vain. Let this be as a dream,
dear hate. Forget the peg/31011 into which yen have be
trayed Sue. Forget that yoCir have sounded my heart's
depths and measured its bitterness. Nay, speak not
yet," ha pleaded as alto looked deprecatingly upon his
mournful face. "It must he' so—this wild love must ha
subdued. You shun not again see mo thus. I Will toil
on for thee, toy ii.ter, Your sweet face shall nightly
host Won me—your voice atone cheer me, and Graco
will ho to us like some star, Shining hotily down into our
spirits, and receiving the equal adorat ion of our hearts!"
T(tey had unconsciously approached. the picturp of her
of whom he spoke, and now with clasped hands—the
alight figure of the girl leaning gently upon her brothel's
powerful frame,' they stood before it, wrapt and silent.—
All trace of possion had passed from the young anan's
, Ile gazed upon the canvass calmly, but there was
despair in that look, as if the conviction had fur tho first
time oomo, that an impassable gulflay between himself
and Grace. They stood there in the dim twilight. until
that vi,ion of lovolinessladed away in tlfe rapidly ap...
mooching dai kites% Then they sat down to the evening
meal. The shutters were closed and the golden canary
curtained its eyes with a delicate fibs and itlept.
Au hour went by and Kate Marston atood alone with
in her little parlor. Her face was very pale, end alto had
not raised her eyes from the floor since Philip went out.
Night and tiny he toiled in the city, and now again ho
had gone to his tusk. "1 am not worthy my brother's
lovo," she said In a low voice. “I - le suffers me to road
his heart, while I must conceal from him that which
alone makes mo happy. I
cannot meet his eye when
Richard has been hero, and sometimes I think he mis
trusts me. Inieed this secrets) , cannot bo right. IVliy
should our lovo bo kept from his knowledge?. Surely ho
will esteem him Whom his sister loves. I will ask Rich
ard that ho eud,this concealment and make me happy iu
Philip's approval." Her check flushed at the thought,
and a thrill of pleasure cum() softly over her as she stood
I with a loving light in her downcast eyes, her boson:
heaving with the tidy of joy thatawopt tuirtultuously from
her heat t. At that instant a voice, breathing in low.
manly tortes, the first cadence of a song, woke the, still
ness g ithout. The strain was familiar to the young girl,
and seemed not displeasing to her oar, for a joyous smile
' wreathed her lips, and a rosy hue stole into her cheek,
under the sweet emotions it had awakened. Springing
to the door she met her lover, and the neat moment they
stood withiu the little room, clasped heart to heart.
”Richard!"
"Kate!"
There was a momen's silence. The girl looked timid
ly into his face—that look, half veiled by the Onged lids,
meekly proud, tender yet impassioned, revealed how
deeply sho o loved him. She could not speak ut first. for,
the weight of happiness which oppressed her. Thoughts
came - thronging from hor'heart, but so fast they multi
plied, that all utterance seemed denied: only a murmur
of delight looked from her lips; end hpr eyes hunild with
tears of joy, were fixed . ou his, as she ab ‘ autloned herself
to the sweet spell hie presence flung over her. She was
folded iu his embrace, but perceived not that her lover's
brow darkened, and his features worked convulsively as
if a spasm of pain had seized them. When she looked
again into his face, it was gone, but he seemed enibar
-rarsed 'by her caresses, and returned them with a bur
rkd, distraught air. There was a peculiar meaning in
the look she now gave him: He divined therein her
t houghts, and anticipated the question that lose to her
"Kate, sweet one, you would speak of my father s "
said l the young man; livening his face.
t
" h i Richard," replied the girl gaudy. "have Yee
not romised to seek his approval in our love?"
" ey, love, that is of small accout, as yet, and would
not, ifhestowed. add 'to our happiness. Should it bo
withhe d, believe me, 11811811 not affect us. 'My father
is rich and powerful. He may have other views for me,
than speedy marriage, and it were, then, wiser to ven
ture tuitional) , upon opposition to his wishes. When I
am o age, love, and rich enough to share , with thee our
splen id borne, he will not look coldly, on my beautiful
Kat .
end refuse to bless our union. Will you not trust
me. west?"
H r lover stooped down and touched for the first time
her hits brow with his lips. 1 •
" ith my very soul." said the girl passionately.—
"But tis notihet, Richard. Your love has made me
very happy. and I can hop.: and prey that at some Nate
timo this necessity rotenone° will cease.' Bat I dread
this concealment -4 em unhappy when you are gons.—
I mayi not speak of you to others or bear yourpraises on
their lips. I cannel 'hare the joy ytMr presence brings,
with one who has no thought of happiness apart from
UM lily brother. Richard: may I not tell him of our
love?" She Spoke is s Sun but gentle tone. caressing
softly the band which clasped her waist, sad appealing ,
to him with her beautiful efer •
s•-
"It must not be. Kate." teptied Richard Scrivene r
hastily; "I cannot toll you of all the circumstances which
impose ibis silence on ns. It is enough that it is so. and
believe me." be said more gently. "we cannot meet on
other terms."
Tears sprang to the girl's eyes, and the words just
spoken fell coldly on her heart. For a moment she
wondered that he could speak so calmly of their not
meeting again.' The thought paled her cheek, for an
instant, and then it was gone.
"Will it be very long, Richard?" she asked.
He was touched by the sad look which accompanied
the words, and drawing her slender form more closely to
his, end, touching the white uplifted forehead with his
lips, he whispered softly that In her ear which sent the
rich blood mantling over cheeks end brow, end made
her almost tremble for excess of happiness.
"Yon shall be my own sweet wile, Kate, in a few
months!"
An hour went by, running over with blies for one in
that room. It was enough that he loied her, and had
promised to make her his wife. Philip was forgotten.—
She had grouu i too jealous now, of her precious secret,
to care that even he should share it. When her
had gone, Kato Marston knelt before the pictur'
Grace Atherton, and 'prayed that she, the beautiful.
high born, might love her brother, end melte hi
happy as she herself was that night,
131122:39
Mr. Scrivener was a vary punctual man. Precisely
as the clock struck ten, on the morning succeeding the
interview with his son, he stood an the steps of Ire.
Atherton's elegant mansion. It was only on extra ysli
nary occasions that the attorney bestowed the least' at
tendon upon himsor, in regard to his attire. Ordinarily,
a rusty suit of black,' rough unpolished boots. nud a dirty
red and yellow cravat doll loosely round his throat, con
stituted his daily wardrobe. On this occasion, he was
both carefully and neatly attired. Not a speck sullied
the brilliant lustre of his boots. The collar and ruffles
were of snowy whiteness, and his hand clasped a richly
wronght gold cane. There was a cheerful. even jaunty
air about the man, that would have declared him ten
years younger than he seemed the proceeding night.—
The footman ushered him obsequiously into the entnp
teens drawing-roci l m, mhere he remained surveying its
usurious appointments with a quiet, complaisant snillo
on his lip, until surnmoned„ a moment after, to the sick
clismber of Mrs. Atherton.
Tho lawyer paid compliments to that lady in an
insinuating tone, and, then, seating himself - at a little
table, drew from his pocket a roll of parchment. "My
dear madam," said be, affecting an nisei tenderness, "It
is a painful duty you have imposed on tne— to execute
1 the dying wish of au old and valued friend--but—"
"Don't spealt of dying, Mr. Scrivener," said the s:elt
woman, he‘tily. . and with a slight shudder; "you hare
often seen me thus, and it is only my solicitude for the
welfare of our dear Grace, that has compelled me to en
ter upon the disagreeable task of making My nil"
"I can understand the fee/ing4 of a parent's beau.'
replied the attorney, In a soft melancholy voice. "It is
ankiety, my deer Mrs. Atherton, that my on Richard•
may secure the honorer an alliance With your charming
daughter, and that the 'young couple may soon possess
the happiness in atom for them, -which . shine overruled
my repugnance to undertake the unplesiant liminess of
this morning."
The compliment convoyed in this speech, was not
lost upon the invalid. and she ansWered him with a
grateful smile. But the exquisite facetiousness there was
in such sentiments proceeding from tlio old man's bps,
as well as the contemptuous &BOCA occompanylng them
escaped her.
"Excuse me madam," continued the lawyer, eulden
ly glancing at his watch, "but 1 am-so hard pressed to
day, that I must bogyour immediate attention to the task
before us. Shall 1 have the honor to submit those papers
to your notice?"
Afro. Atherton recoiled a moment, isid then, summon
ing all her fortitude, desired Mr. Scrisouer to read them
aloud. It may he necessary to explain the singular re
luctance exhibited oy this lady, in the settlement of her
worldly affairs. She was impressed With the belief that.
having, as it were, by such a step taken leave of all ob.
jects of an earthly nature, her own life , must, in a natu
ral sequence of events. shortly after terminate. On the
present occasion, this dread of approaching the subject,
had been overruled by the candid statements of her idly •
&chub Aware, then, that her death Was possibly near,
she bad annitnoneif her attorney, and now with a sort of
forced calmness, listened, while he rapidly entnnerated
the sum, and represented the condition of his estates.
One half alike property would go to his son upon his
marriage with Grace Atherton, the remaining portion to
revert to him, upon the event of his own decease.
"And now," said the lawyer, repreSsing the exulting
tone which his feelings Would have theonm into the words,
and speaking very low, "we had better.irny dear madam,
proceed with the win."
Mrs. Atherton bowed in silence, and the attorney pro
ceeded, formerly to convey her last will and testament
upon the parchment before him. Its purport was, briefly,
a bequest of her property to her daughter, upon the con
dition that she should become the wife of Richard Serive
nor. Failing of this, the hulk of her estates would pass
to Simon Scrivener, as being her nearest of kin, while a
small annuity remained to Greco. It would ho impos
sible to paint the brilliant eye, tbo burning cheek of the
old man, as a thrill of feverish joy ran through his frame
at such a consummation of his hopes. Already he be
held this dazzling wealth within his grasp, for sure ho
was that Grace would shrink from claiming it, at such
an alternative. She hated him, and despised his son.
l'hs lawyer was perfectly sure of the result. The will
was completed.
Overcome by her exertions, Mrs. Atherton sank upon
her pillow and closed her eyes. A vague apprehension,
perhaps a-thought of remorse, at having sacrificed her
child upon the alto; of ambition; kept her anent; while
the attorney sat motionless, with his eyes fastened to the
characters he had just traced, as if they had flung a
charm, a spell over him, which he had not power, by
word or gesture, to break. A moment, passed, and then
staring up, with the pen and paper he) approached the
bed.
isitlydear Mrs. Atherton will make another effort and
sign this," said he gently.
There was no answer. The lawyer relied the white
hand from the snowy coverlid, but it returned not his
pressure, and fell heavily back from his loosened clasp
like a dead thing: Mrs. Atherton had fainted: Spring
ing to the bell, the attorney pulled it violently. then. as
&insteps rapidly approached, be obeyed a sudden
im
pulse of thought. end slipped the will among his papers
that-were laying losely upon the table. A moment after
Grace entered the room, and scarcely noticing the pres
ence of Mr. Scrivener. Sung herself. with loud shrieks
for help.upon the lifeless form of her mother.
The attorney stood gnawing his lip with mingled
rage and disappointment To be baffled in his 'cheat*,
when the moment of triumph but , now seemed to have
arrived, woke a atom of fury and passion that swept
through hie soul, until he writhed in agony. and his feetuz
me worked coevals' vely.ln the fierce straggle to suppress
to flatmate, all evidence of the puttee that reeved him.
He was uncenelOso that the rho!. honsbold had silently
gathered around the bed. and tits* wilco: them stood a
grave, elderly gentierean, anxiously webbing the court-
SI SO a TEAR, in Advance.
unarm.. of the yet insensible woman, until aillst,Ottch
upon the shoulder. roused him.
Orece Atherton stood before him: nor fat wsavery
pate, and her eye tearful. yet a quiet scorn thrill d in every
word, and stung the old man sharply. as she spoke. "It
is not fitting. sir. that you remain here. If my mother
wakes. eho will be inadequate to any further business to
day, your presence would but distre'sa her."
The lawyer reddened to the temples, and gatherleg up
his papers, silently left the apartment. An hoa r hefore,
he had entered it , full of high hopes, with lit' elastic.
nimble step. Now be slunk away to the bitterness of
despair. throughly cowed down and trashed in spirit.—
He did not immediately leave the hones, but awaited in
the withdrawing-room the return of the physician from
Mrs. Atherton's chamber. It e.s not long before that
personage made his apPeMance.
"ith, good morn mg, d odor." said the attorney, mutat
ing an easy familiarty in his tone; "our esteemed friend
is without doubt, again the happy subject of your skill.—
We are indebted to you, sir, fur thiM , .. What &privilege,
my dear sir, to be the instrument of io.coioi g one ult
were from death, to animate the drooping faeultleg. so
that our worldly affairs may be arranged ere we depart,
/.
and the coliciousneas of having thus blekred Ott prosper- a
ity, remain with us to smooth the dying pillow. I trust,
sincerely, that—"
LEM
"I am sorry to disappoint you. sir," replied Dr. Ash
leigh. in a sententious tone; fear Mrs Atherton Is be
oyod all human skill to save: Her system bas received a
severe shuck. Perfect rest and quiet ere essential, that she
live twenty-four hours. I have given orders that she bo
not disturbed within that tittle."
Thera was a cool civiltiy, and a marked emphasis in
this reply. that recalled the lawyer to himself. Naming
to submit his face. that no longer acknowledged his own
will, to the searching gala of that gentleman, he bowed
hurriedly; and drawing his hat over his eyes, retraced
his steps to-Court.
IVe return from this digression, to the evening of the
day ou which thtiee events transpired. The attorney sat
in his' room, with the will yet unsigned before him. On
the table wore pen, ink, and severe/ pieces of paper writ
ten over with a natne, in evident imitation of that af
fixed to a note which the lawyer was studying. Twice
since morning had he gone to Mrs. Atherton's. end been
denied access to the: lady, and now, baffled at every turn
despairing and desperate, ho racked his brain for agleam
of hope,-.-he plotted with a keenersagacity to achieve the
work that earned almost tottering to its fall.
Meanwhile. scones of a verry different character Wane
being enacted in another part of the city. Kate Marston
stood at the door of her parlor, until the figure alter lover
was lest in the darkness; then she sat down, and with art
elegant volatile of poems (his gift) open before her...-.
now g l anc in g at the e loquent page, eud again yielding to
the delicious memories of the, pasthenr, that thrilled her
' heart, and tareught the rich blood into tier delicate cheek,
I she awaited the warn of her brother Philip.
In one of the stalls of a fashionable ; coffee-house not
far distant, there was seated eta table spread worth alight
anddelieate supper, a dark-featured, sinister-looking man
ofherculean frame. He evidently awaited the ordvalet'
some one, for the repast was yet untouched, and from
! time to time he consulted his watch, with an impatient
! gesture. The entrance of a young man, as the clock
struck nine,..put en end to his suspense.
"Ah! there you are at last," said he, in a surely tone.
"A woman will make a man forget time, appointments
I with a friend, and every thing else, even to a hungry
stomach.. Lore is selfish, Dick. Confess that the fair
Kate hcd well nigh festinated you out of your supper, and
not content with that, Was charming you into forgetfid
ness of the fact that you had made an appointment with
your friend, thus compelling that friend, to set down solos,
'to a cold repast. Ha! ha! my boy, what exacting crea
tures women aro! Thank my stare l' no kept clear of
'em, so far!"
Hit companion made no answer. for the moment. to
this speech, but quicltly seated himself ctt the table. and
drawing close the curtain that drooped at the entrance of
the stall, filled a glass of brandy, and tossed It off at
draught "Pooh!" acid he, contimptiounaly. "you know
me better than that. Kate Marston is a pretty girl, has
fallen in love with me, and it's a pleasant variety. you
know, Tom, to have a soft white arm round one'■ neck
and a splendid pair of eyes looking through you. that's
all."
"Not exactly all." replied the other, with a laugh:
"Miss Grace and the comfortable sum of two millions.
makes a very pleasant exception to that. IfOroe a lucky
fellow, Scrivener. When does the ceremony Come art"
"Not so fast. if you please." said his companion.—
"The will is yet unsigned, and the girl will not commit
to the marriage." •
"And in that events" interrupted the other.
"The prize slips out of our hand," replied Richitrd
Scrivener, cooly.
"And the old woman?"
"Dead. very likely, by this time," was the answet.—
"She swooned away this morning, when about to sign
the will. The old governor tuts been there twice to -day
but tho doeior kept her too close for him. Grace is at the
bottom of it, I darn say." The young man said this
with the most unconcerned air possible. and applied hint
self to the v yiands, which wero- yet untested.
"Confound it, Scrivener,you're estrange fellow," said
his friend, eyeing him with disgust. "I dare swear. the
loss of Grace Atherton's fortune would trouble you little!"
"Faith, Tom, you're right replied the other, with a
shrug, "for then shall be rid of the girl. I'm not of the
mairying sort—ha! ha! Besides. she's a milk-and-wa
ter. piece. There's Kate Marston, a black-eied, warm
hearted little witch, of the right spirit; now if—'' The
rest of this sentence was spoken in a very low tone.
Scearcely had the words passed his lipss ere the young
man felt himself seised violently by the throats rend a mom
ment after, a strong hand hurled him with kodigious
force against the ! a ii. - •,lling of the stall. [Corrienee.]
REPIIIILICA A IS. if!, . SSIA.—The Czar of It • • Baia has
published a ukcAre or the regulations of the Uutversities,
These institutions' have become in that couni i ry. ea in
llrn
other parts of Enrol,' ,so many hot beds of rep o licanie.
The secret societies a tongtlie students ere ina tied with
liberal ideas to a dread ul ezient. ITo ptevent t e spread
of the contagion , the Czar has pre scribed that the numbs,'
of the students at each Unfversity shall not exceed three
hundred, and has forbidden , the reception/ of applicatea
until the number has hteni,thns seduced. I
Asti-CnoLsta Patscairnorr.—Dotet get its a linden
and go on a buster. nor allow yourself to terrified bet bttl
keep a zed head. and novas be led, to join a hurrah and
spree.
If a sparking you get, and we know ion do so, keep
an eye on the time as It iliac and flow do you see, dote!
stay later then three, if you are any WaYa • moderately
wise.
Don't dread It at all, be ofd young or small, neither be
overly rash; but keep calmly en, as ye always have done.
and avoid eating acid or trash.
Be tidy and clean, avoid everyibiog green, *bather it
be cabbage of kraut; and quite skis:min- you'll go. if
you take fat; a motto, •'always know what you're about."
“i,Vss Mr. Brown a popular mart whets be lived hr
your town?” loquired a busybody of his friend. •'I
should think he RMS." ropitoktitogootieruan. "tsittway
persons ootlostvered to proveriSlSis leaving: anteeveAl
of shoot. fasiudlog the short% :In depute. and several
re4ata6ltr.followe3 him foritome diovttsee.".
II
NUMBEIi_ 13.