Erie observer. (Erie, Pa.) 1830-1853, September 29, 1849, Image 1

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    B. Z. OLOAN, Zlditor
VOLUME 20,
3 Alt D pain
THE COUSINS;
OR, -
WOMAN'S REVENGE
BY WALTER CLEGG.
I have for years been the sole possessor, of a sad story.
If any others ever knew it, their lips. which might betray
mo, have been long since hushed forever. There is no
story—no true story,—however sad, e r however criminal
its details may be, which does not convoy a moral. I
will tell my tato in as few words as possible. I wilt
soften no tault,—color no sin,—ridicule no , excellence:
and my readers will not fail to discover where the moral
lies.
EM 111:33
Two gentle cousins had tired together from earliest
tiftuey. They were a boy and girl, and there was in
their ages but a few weeks difference. Every body made
inurh of them, for they wore the only sources of smiles
in a house, which age and 'circumstances had rendered
cheerless in the extreme. Alice and Herbert wore
,tnozht to lore each other, but thr was no need of any
artificial teaching
Arthur Stewart, the father , of Alice, was a conatry
gentleman of decayed fortunes, and he 'resided in a small
vilinge,.pleasantly situated in the west of England. Ho
Ind known much - trouble, and lost large sums of money
winin most ho needed them... Perhaps this had rendered
his temper somewhat harsh, and blunted his sensibility
for others.
Spire Stewart, for so he was celled in the eilla6,
once had en only and tenderly beloved sister, named
also Alice. I will i recount her brief but tragical history,
She was discovered to be privately married to a man of
station even superior to her own, but one of whom her
family disapproved. And well they might, for he was
a libertine and a gameiter: She did not know tWa until
it was to late to intim herself. His professions had won
her heart,—ehe loved him truly,—and they Who say
that a woman can withdraw an affection once bestowed,
when she discover' faults in her lover, speak an *idle
language. She may pink, beneath the cruel blow, but
•elie will dip still loving him.
Alice imprudently married. She was tempted when
least prepared to resist,—and in a Moment of enthusias
tic passion, she became a wife. It was necessary to
keep the matter a secret, for her husband's affairs were
too embarrassed to enable him to receive her. • And a
secret it remained until Alice was near becoming a
mother. Then her proud, enraged, yet almost heart
broken father closed his door against her.
Alice still tried to smile—still continued to hope for
happiness and a reconciliation some day; forherhushend
loved her, and had promised amendment. But the news
came that ho was killed in a duel, and Alice Bever spoke
again. It was the fruit of that visit to the gaming-house
which he had sworn should be his last; And so it wane
A few hours after his wife knew the completion of her
misery. she gave birth to a child—a weeping boy. She
never heard that sweetest music which can break; upon
a mother's earn the first cry of her new-born behe,—for
ere ithad well received its separate - elistence, she' was
J.an angel in Heaven."
fa her last moments her father was summoned to her
presence. He" refused to Obey. Perhaps he did not
know she was es ill: it is charity to think so. Arthur
Stewart went, knelt at her bed-side. and im:oloreil -her
forgiveness. She could not spook. but she proceed his
hand, and he knew what she would say. He vowed a
eoletne oath, that with his last breath, and his very
heart's blood, he would protect her child. The nuffererce
head drooped even whNe lie was speaking, but a sweet '
smile played around hor lips. It might be that She heard
him,—or, it might be, that the immortal spirit, entering
a better and a kindoi. world; and revisited with its hap
py and premature dreedem. had imprinted that smile,—
a last act ere it forsook its fregile tenement!
The brother carried his sistor's•babe to the home where
she bed lived all her life, a happy girl. Ile committed it
to the care of his own young wife, who received it with
tears, and loved it for its mother's sake. They had boon
girls at school together; and she bad but recently 'coin°,
a bride to the houso, when poor Alice loft its shelter.—
She joined in the persecution against her then, but she
de`t✓rmined'to cancel her fault by regarding the child 11.9
if it wore her own. And she did so, though a very few
weeks more, and she was a mother herself.
The father of the dead Alice became involved. 'The
harvest failed, and The money_which would hatle saved
him, was not to be wrung from his starving tenantry.—._
Ile died a debtor in prison, for there were other bard
men in the world besides himself. And many said, and
more thOught, that it was a judgment upon him, for re
fusing to comfort his dying child. It might be: I can
not tell- .
The wife of Arthur Stewart bad some little properly,
which was her own. With this they now retired to a
large but old fashioned house, which - indeed was partly
ruinous, and once belonged to the lord of the manor.—
As I have before stated, it was situated in a pleasant vil
lage in the west of England. Here the husband and
his wife determined, by frugality, to pass the remainder
of their days in ease and contentment; for Arthur was
too proud to enter into any business.
And hither the two babes were convoyed. The boy
waachristened Herbert, his father's name; and the girl
Alice, after her dead aunt. They were nutured and
nourished together. They slept in the same cot, and fed
from the same bosom. Had the mother of Alice been
asked which she loved the better. she could scarcely have
t old. And could the angel mother have looked down from
heaven, sho would have rejoiced, even in
„those regions
of unfailing bliss, to see her babe so tenderly regarded.
and she would have prayed for blessings upon Its kind
must.
When the children were about five petit old. Arthur's
wife died She was a fair creature, and had the true
soul eta woman. She knew that she was sick unto
death. long before the fatal time approachid; for her ill
ness was a lingering consumption. I
11 have known some, thus slowlytng, to be unusu
ally fretful and peevish.—fond of ma m aking demands which
their sorrowing friends can scarce possibly meet. I be
lieve this state of mind to be, in many cases, a mere
symptom and consequence of the disease. and, therefore,
not to be censured. God knows, they have enough to
disturb the intellect! Met it not bo a fearful thing to
se e the loaves preen and bright, stirring perhaps before
their very window.--to bear the birds warbling "love on
orery spray,to feel the werm'sjun shine, and to know
that it is bringing health and happiness to thousands of
fellow beings, while to them its daily beaming only tells
crone day nearer their dooM? Perchance the first im
pressions of a first passion have juilt been yielded toe"'
th e first vows of love just given. and just treasured!—
l'here is the quick gushing of feeling as of water* from
'a' fount, which has been hitherto concealed, 'so that none
knew of its existence.—a mysterious and delicious- life,
throbbing in every pulite, and delighting every sense:—
Oli! town it not bo a fearful thing to know that death is
which cannot be avertede•that it is drawing near
f r end nearer every day, whilst the love itifdife ie strength
`t» j4.,--ti- ibt t h e leave, will be just as green, and the
-nu+bins sr vernal, and the whole world tut beautiful.
%hen the flicsido place it, exchanged for a cold grave
•
t. 4
~ ; •
•
kii• a•
•
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• • !
'
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'ust it not be even more terrible to reflect that friends
who may weep for them, and bitterly deplore their ion,
after * time wilt dry talk tears; and that perhaps even
the loved ono himself will woo another mate, and seek
other ploaauraal •
IVhen we are Inclined to blame a dying foilow-croaturo
for every little thought and word which may appear un
kind and unnecessary; lot us think on all this.
Arthur's wife was fully prepared for the evil day, be
cause many of her family had sickened in the same man
ner. She was the only one of three sweet sisters• who
lived to be wedded. One of them had died the 'very day
which was to have aeon her at the altar. So the poor
lady thanked God that he had spared her so long.
With every hour of life her love for the children ap
peared to be increased. She would kiss thorn, and weep
over them, and pray Heaven to bless them, and smile so
sweetly when she heard them promise always to love
each other.
It seemed as though Herbert claimed the fondest de
gree of her regard; and a stranger might have said that
her own child was neglected. She would clasp him to
her bosom and part back the dark glossy curls which
clustered round his white forehead; whilst he, who had
never another parent, smiled in her face, and wondered
what made her cheeks so flushed, and her eye so you ,
bright. •
And when the children heard her tell, that she was
going away from them,—that she would never come
back again, and never see them-any more, unless thoy
wore good all their lives long,—how they would kneel at
her bed-side, and sob as if their little hearts were break
ing! They wondered why their mother must leave them,
when sho loved them so much. And when the poor la
dy told them that she was only going to a long sloop,
then they wondered more why she should be taken away
from them at all, and why they might not watch her as
she slept, and make no noise, and be so quiet that none
should find fault with them.
So the lady died. Nobody could tell the moment when
her spirit escaped. She dropped - into a quiet sleep; and
they sat besido her, hoping that she would wake rofresh•
ed, and live at least through the night; but she never
woke again. Ilor arm when she died was clasping the
pale-faced boy, who scarcely breathed, least he should
disturb her; and they took it away when it had become
rigid, and was chilling round his body.
'Twee strange tliat ho should have received her last
thoughts, and that her last kiss should have been on his
lips. Perhaps it was a waywardness peculiar to her dis
ease; perhaps it was because she :would so soon moat
his mother.
=EMI
When therm things happened, the cousins were just
five years old. They loved like brother and sister and
the feeling grew with their years. They never uarrel
ed; and Alice 'world leave her merriest friende•. nd the
gayest parties, to ramble with Herbe'it through the gen
lanes, and beside the .sweet-smelling hedges. She h
no secrets from her causin. And the little boy had
neither want nor wish, joy or grief, in which Allee did
not participate.
. Arthur Stewart smiled to • see this attachment be
tween the children. It seemed ' 'testi to occur to him,
that every year which passed ewav hastened thri time
when they would be 'Children Ilk longer. If he had
thought of this. surely' he had been wiser. He would
haVe perceived that the infant passion, matured by years,
must either be a blessing or a curse too thein. Bat he
- thought little of such matters. If a troublesome idea did
cross his mind, ho smiled at what he considered lila over
solicitude; and set it down that there was "plenty of time
fpr training them yet." •
Since his d oath, he had given himselfmuch up
to study, and allowed iho children to be bone l tantly with
servants; and there they heard that they were •'made
for each other;" and Herbert was told thatche must al
ways take care of Alice, and never lot her leave him.
Then the handsome boy would frown to be ifelhooled, and
reply that lie had "promised this over and over again to
his lady mother, when she was so ill."
After a time a governess was engaged. She was an
accomplished, welt-Meaning female; and indeed her
charges soon did her great credit, for they became for
ward in their learning, considering their years. But she
had them in no manner of restrait; she loved them, she
said, too well to interfere. And the father of Alice trust
ed entirely to the governess, and was quite satisfied to
know that they were well.
So, between the two, the cousins were much neglet
ed. They wore always free, and always together. Of
ten they wandered over the fields and wood-walks th'e
live-long day, "in quest of adventurers," as Herbert said,
and no alarm was felt at home, for all the villagers hnew
them. When wearied, they might have b oen seen to
lie down beside the stream which divided the meadows,
and spend long time in fruitless wonder inga as to whore
it came from. Then they vied in counting the pebbles
which reposed at the bottom, or set harebells afloat, and
watched them carried farther and farther away until]
overwhelmed by the tiny waves, and when the evening
came, merry, even in their weariness, they arrived safe
at home, loaded with wild fruits and flowers.
At ten years of age, Alice was the favorite of the vil
lage. I will not now say much concerning her beauty;
the was a simple laughing girl, gentle, and tender of
conscience even to the extreme, Her cheeks were rosy,
—the picture othealth; her hair, seldom confined by a
bonnet, flowed over her ahouldets in long, (hien ringlets,
and her eyes, beaming with spirit and intelligence, wore
of the deepest blue. But, 'lwo - than all, this Alien had
the kindest heart in the world; and the cottagers may
still tell how she begged relief for them from the hard
Squire, when the winters wore long and no work was
to bo had.
So everybody loved her—the old folks and the rustic
children too. For the little girl had no idea that shts was
born or better favored than the merry playmates. At the
games on the Green she was the gladdest of them all.
And how proud was Herbert when the bright May-day
mornings broke, and Alice was always the queen; and
how well she did become the wreaths of mimic royalty!
Strangers who passed through - the village on that day
stopped and blessed her; and many prayed, as they look
ed upon her smooth and fair brow, that the hand of sor
row might never press it muse heavily ban did her coro
net of:new-plucked TOM.
In the summer-time it was the delight of the Children
to seek the shelter of a thick, leafy bower, once a secret
retreat and celebrated peculiarity of the mennor-house
gardens; for it was so contrived that a strangei standing
outside Would never suspect a recess - within, and, indeed,
would never recognize; rom noighkoring hushes. This
had always been a favorite haunt. In the green shades
around them the birds of song warbled their gayest notes,
and the flowers springing from the mossy turf_ beneath
(hair, feet. lavished their ewseteet odors. Here they eat
for hours, and conned their tasks, and when the pleasant
labor was completed, they might have been seen to lay
their cheeks together, and, with ringlets intertwined,
watch the glimpses of blue sky whielt glittered 'fitfully
above them whoa the breezes sUrrid their leafy_ canopy.
Thus swiftly.flew the
. days of childhood , Uerbort
ten tpld her tales of whet he would an when ho became
a Man and she his wifot and :glee heaved her little bo-'
som and wondered at the efiiirif t " And Oa then& "to
heraelf ;aid rrowedln her own ; briit, Clint; whitevei,"
wife might mean; she would always iovehorrousin, grid
bo to him es she had ever been. Than she &defied, and
SATURDAY MORNING, SEPTEMBER,29, 1849.
Paid she did not like to hear Herbert -talk to her-,ln that
way, 'los were they not happy enough?"'
And indeed they were. Had they been sinless babes
iu the garden of Eden, they could not have been happier
IMEMIEE!
It would have done your heart good to have seers Alice
Stewart when eighteen summers had passed over her
head; for I Verily believe she was the moat beautiful of
all God's creatures. None would have recognised the
merely pretty child, in the woman of exquisite loveliness.
I lately saw the portrait of her {alien at that age, ,but it
utterly failed to deliniate eitherilie sweetness of gef fea
tures or the degree of mental sensibiliy stamped_ upon
them.
Her figure was, perhaps. rather tall, but slight. and of
the moat delicate mould. All the boisterousgayetyof the
child was gone; and though Alice was still happy—hap
pier than even—her face wore a mild and,kalf pensive
expression. nut tibia made her ton times more char
ming! Who could be in her presence long, without
feeling how beautiful she was' Many sighed for her,-
and strove for 4 long time to pluck from their bosom the
l'ovely image which had disturbed their peace. Poor
Alice! olio heard hints oftlieso things, and a shade pass
ed over her spirits. She thought how silly it was for
any, but• one to fall in love With her.
1 have not attempted to describe her to the reader, for
am wise enough to avoid such an exposure of my weak
noes. I will merely say that the flaxen ringlets of child
hood had given place to tresses of the richest brown, sad
these finely contrasted with a fu l rehead lofty and white
as marble. !then that blue eye!—what a depth of con
coaled thought and feeling did it not speak! Ilow
hard was it to meet its full gaze! Those best versed
,in
the study of female faces would have said that a spirit
capable of the most extreme enteusity of paesion • lurked
below. But none said au of Alice. t3he had always bean
mild and gentle—of an even and unfilled temper. Nobody
ever reinemeract a fraNu upon her taco. •
It was feared, for a long time. that her mother's disease
had already crept into her bosom; for her cheek, manna
ally pale and fair, became limbed upon the slightest ex
citement. At these timelier father trembled, forjust so
her mother had looked. and cheated him into a belief
that the glow of health was returning, whilst all the time
a fatal hectic consumed her.
But; though thus changed in form, and a child no lon
ger, she was Alice still. Still that mysterious chord vi
brated in her heart, which bad been touched even in be.
byhood; and the love of a sister had only been exalts:l-
god for a deeper and a more absorbing passion. Her
bert was all the world to her. She looked on him as al
ready her own. She smiled, and felt even grateful for
the praises which all lavishly bestowed upog her charms.
because ho would love her more for her beauty. And
she experienced is secret ecatacy in anticipating the time
when she might surrender to him every thought and de
sire of her heart, and have a will of her uwu no longer.
This blissful period the lovers now fondly hoped was
drawing nigh; and the letters of Alice addressed to Her
bert, who had been for eome time in London, breathed
the fulness of her confiding heart. Sho did, not etrect to
conceal oven her inmost feelings,
,but impatiently
mented tltirdy away of the few more ; muutlitimbide
both jmi upon. rut the extreme interval which must
elapse ere they might pret again. , ,
Anti Herbert. fee whom the (so-called) facinations of
London had no charm, pined to be pormitted,te return
to the gentle girl, from whom he had never, until lately,
been edparated for a single day. But then he cons oled
himself. by thinking of the rapturous happiness which
awaited him, when the time of probation was completed
—when Alice, in, all hor youtful loveliness and devotion,
would take upon herself the vows of a wife, and wholly
dedicated to, him, the companion of her infancy. Herbert
was. now a manly and handsome youth, and though but
the ram age as Ahce, ho looked older by three or four
years. _
I will not tell the render why tho Invent had been sap
azated. •
The father of Alice. u was`before stated. on .the death
of his wife, betook himself_ to sovpre study; and hi this
lie did wisely; for there is Juothing more potent in dis
missing the eharpest distil:ingest of the mind. He em
ployed himself iu antiquarian researches; and after the
lupso of a years published seine volumes. which did him.
auu still do him grtiat credit.
Thus engaged, it is no wonder that he had )ittle time
to attend to hie youthful charges; and it was not until
they had passed their fifteenth year, that he thought it
limo to make some arrangements concerning "the chil
dren." With their education he was fully satisfied; but
he remarked they were both poor, considering- what the
forum; heads of the family had been. And Arthur
Boman thought very justly, that a fortunate marriage
might secure the elevation oach.
He also ausidcred himself pretty deeply skilled in the
philosophy of human nature.. At first he thought it pos;
aiblo that there might be some "little attachment" be-
Wean the young couple. But on further reflection, Ar
thur saw the folly of his supposition. "For," said he
to himself, "the very circutnstanco of their being so in
itiate iu childhood,—like brother and sistor,—will now,
on the approaching years of discretion, be the very occa
sion of preventing any fooling of a more tender nature
from warming their bosoms." And he congratulated
himself upon his sagacity, when ho observed all childish,
familiarities wore abandoned; and when, upon closely
watching them,—that is, watching them at the sta
ted thnos of their family meeting,—he could detect no
thing in their behavior, but the atrictost propriety. Once,
indoed, Herbert kissed her in his presence, ea he was
formerly accustomed to do hundreds of times a-day; but
on that occasion, Alice had blushed deeply, and certain
ly given the youth no encouragement to repot the lib
irtY. So, like all superficial philosophers, who never
judge correctly, bbcause they never search deeply enough
Arthur Stewart was perfectly satisfied that there was no
danger of any impolitic affection'springing up between
the cousins. Ho therefore returned to his antiquarian
researches, and they wore left to thernsolvos:- --
But neither in thought, - nor word, nor deed, were they
less attached thin they had ever been. A new fooling,
it is true, had driven away a host of childish imagining,
but it was a feeling which bound them to each other by
a three-fold cord. Alico understoini the secret which
bad so often ponied her in times gone by, and Herbert
discovered the full and delightful meaning of his oft re
peated stories. They still constantly rambled together;
they read the seine booke, ay, and thought the same
thoughts: for I-verily believe, if ever two disserved bo
dies possessed a single mind, the unison' was in those
cousin lovers. Of course their .conversation most fre
quently turned upon that sweet relatienehip which they
should shortly boar to each other. Alice would.rest the
cheek of her lover,upon her glowing bosom, - and gar.iug
fondly into the face raised towards hers, smile at the
bright:visions of happiness which hasp lovid to tell, and
she to heir; and anon slielti t sted hfli'clear forehead, and
called herself the happiest girl in existence! And who
will blamiathem?
. • ,
One eveniog Arthur tiltewart over h e ard their conver
sation Thtiy were,ititited,ef nu open window--confin
eti to the house by tho thick *wit :17110h wore epreeid,
upon.the Brags . , Herbert hadhoen lamenting his ignor
ance, of any useful professioii add Alice, in a strain of
awieteeptietry; was showing hitq, that ho ought not to
desire that, which foyer could bo useful to him.
"We have," said she, "alweys lived hero, In this old
rro N W A lUD
hlmae, and Wanted for nothing. We crnint. lam sure,
find a sweeter spot; and there is no reason why we
Ihonid leave it. We , will stay here all our lives, dear
Holbert, and make •it, as Tom Moore
_Says,—'a bright
little isle ofourownP Hy father, I -know will be de
lighted to see us happy, and we will speak to him about
it ell in good Limo. How very kind he 'a l to! as: I wont
hitt) ] the study just now with a letter, and he asked mo
what had 'put my hair so much out of - curl. And I was
obliged to tell him, it was all the dampness of the weath
erl =which you know was a fib, Herbert—but cot a very
great one, I hope." Then Herbert drew ' this smiling'
face of the girl to his breat, mad kissed her. And-her
father saw with amazement that there was no With up-,
on her cheek.—that she even returned tho familsarity!
And l ea he [leased from the room unobserved. lio mutter
ed h l a sorrovethat one so young could be so deceitful.—
Poor Alice! she never oven imagined deceit in her
bee .
The next day, Arthur Stewart summoned his daugh
ter aid nephew to his study, it was an unusual cir
cumstance, and they went together. hoping that their
only friend had some pleasant scheme to communicate
respecting that event, which, In their opinion, it was
high time to consider.
The truth was, he had resolved to''send Herbert on a
visit to London,' under pretence of seeing a little. And,
indeed, this was highly necessary. for he was quite a
child in the nsuages of the world.
In the meantime, Alice was also to be introduced to
the gayeties,of fashionable society,—to spend a season
in Ihyis,*' A lady in the neighborhood, whose age had
better 'not ho hinted at, had frequently proposed taking
her thither, and had assured her father, that the mere
circumstance of. Miss Stewart being under her protec-
Notion, was certain to obtain for her the attention and
frion4hip of the very first families of the city. And,
ndeed; she was right,—taking her words in a sense dif
ferent to that intended. She knew well that her own
connection with a lovely creature, who would be the
fairest star among the many who shine in the Bath as
semblies, would certainly secure to herself attentions
and smiles, from those who were never attentive or lav
ish of their smiles before. And she had ample oppor
tunities of verifying her supposition.
TheSe, therefore, were the arrangement, which, after
a sleepless night, Authur Stewart had resolved upon.
Ho guide no doubt, that, as all things under the sun are
fading l and fleeting, his daughter would soon forgot her
"silly girlish fancies." And Herbert, when admitted
into Landon society, must, in en incredibly short space
of tinie r cease to remember his country cousin.
The youthful lovers were much surprised at the tid
ings w ich awaited them. 'But Herbertsecretlyrejolced;
for he , was only to leave Alice for a short time, and he
felt theFpropriety of a separation until their ages wore
somewhat more matured. Alice strove hard to restrain
herself !before her father, but in vain., She wept bitter
ly, and wondered what she should do when Herbert was
- gonc. l and implored her father at least not to send her
from home. But her entreaties were denied.
So the lovers parted, repeatedly vowing to correspond
Constantly, and "never let a week pus without a letter
from one or the other." The assurances of Alice oh'
thist'point were heard by her fusilier; who however offer
ed no oidoposition. "For," thought he, "If I command
her to tlio.contrary, she will 'whop disobey me, through
mere perversenese, and n spirit of contradiction. Girls
era sometimes very headstone. So I'll let them write;
but SIMI get. tired of it."
Then Arthur Stewart returned to bisstudies.still coo -
gratulating himself upon his intimate acquaintance with
human nature.
When Herbert had boon nearly twelve months in
London,jhe one morning received a note bearing tho
well-knoWtt handwriting of Alice. Ile broke the seal.
and roadi—
"My DEAftIeST PERBERT..--
"You 'must comp to me directly.' Something has hap
pened which 1 cannot tell you in a letter, for my [' l and
could not have patience to writo it, even _ to you. 'B ut it
concerns your happiness, dearest, 'and !nine 'also: so
don't delay one hour. 1 . "Your owo "Amu."
On the afternoon of the day, Herbert was within eight of
the villagb church. and a sudden turning of theroad'reveal
ed Alice c oming with hasty and trembling stops to wort
him. She flow into his arms and sobbed hysterically
upon his bosom.
What could all this mean? / will let Alice speak for
herself.
A rich trian,—a Baronet,--aa intimate friend of her
father's, and more than double her ege, had offered her
his hand: She had dismissed him thith kiud word,
and a wish for his happineu. She had avers condescen:
de& to tell him that she was already engaged. But ho
had returned with his proposals, and backed, too, by a
powerful ally: her father: command her to wed
The weeping girl here' dried her tears, for indignation
swelled in her bosom, and flashed from those oyes which'
had ever beamed with modest gentleness.
Two hours after this the lovers met again. Barbel t
had been closeted nearly the whole of that time with
Arthur Stewart.: And when he nought his cousin, she al
most sank to the ground on seeing the wildness of his eye
and the paleness of his countenance. Bat what did Alice
feel when his own lips announced that "every vow must be
forgotten,—that he gave up all claim to her,—that alto
was freo!"! Free! how the word stabbed to her very
heart. •
"Alice," said he, "your father's family war always i
great and rich. 'Misfortunes have visited it. and its for
mer honor's are nigh forgotten. Ho is the last represen
tative, and, you Me his only child. lam poor. I can do
nothing to enrich' you, for I have not a penny in the world.
Sir George Archer offers you his hand and all his for
tunes. YOur father has told me so:' and he asked me, if
I could throw myself in the way, and offer hindrance to
your promotion in life—to your comfort, to your happi
ness, and to your becoming possessed of—" 1
"And brie my !father dared to —"
,
"Meet" 1
• - , ,
"Oh! Herbet, forgive me! I know 'not what I say!
But could he talk of , advantages which would accure to 1
mo,'ttad of my happiness, as reasons why you should
desert met But you will not! Say you will not! And
i n
don't look o terrible'opon me! Hiek Me' Herbal! 1
swear by t o greet God in Heaven that I will die;—die a
thousand ti es over,—lather than---"
"AliCe, listen to me. 'I
have to ofteikand too long for
gotten my position in this house. We hdve been together
all our lives.—me have • been brought up as brother and -
sister.—treated in all things alike. ' This has made me'
cease to rontembtW - that lam but 11 , :pottr dependent on
your father's bourtty.—that Ws udder - no obligations to
keep-me M his honsel.—that I have nosight to • demand
hie assistance. end ought not 'to expect' it. unless I eta
preptiredin A till thidge to yield to,his wishes.
sq, had for &tin this; and to-day, when I dared to re
proach him with dividing - ties which had bound no' for
years. be r4tindeid me of it all; he spoke ofd Viper which
be had cherished In his boecornt—of the punishment with
Which-Heaken visited a disobedient' ohild—and of the
note fearfulpunishment with which it would'lvisit him.''
who taught thk child to' ditoboy! •' : -•''
"Alice', Vga -hart loved very' dearly: Your ',nether
taught 11E1 to , pray , that' we, might alsi;aye: be tree-to' each
other; and wo.have repoated that piayer even until noire. 1
Liko nest, bttds.wc 9
i. have drown up together, bud t r hotq
• 1
Cif A ETZR IV.
,who never hinted at ,our disunion in after life. will have
much to answer for. Ihit you shall obey your father.
'Alice. Youisheill be rich and great, and Lwill pray, often
er for you thlin for myself, that you - may be happy! And
in Heaven, Alice, "where thereist neither marrying, nor
giving in marriagti,"—in Heaven, our souls may be re
united, and we may live again the happy hours of child
hood, and be never parted arty more for ever:" Alice
heard not his lest words.• A death-like faint had saved
her bead from breaking. .
Was Herbal right or wrong in this matter! I think he
was wrong.
c i s . er4
So it Ives reported through the village that Alice was
going to be wedded, but not to her sousint. And many
wept who fleard it. The Loudon newspapers spoke of an
approaching marriage in high life:—..the wealthy Sir
George Archer, Bart., was shortly to lead to the alter the
beantiful and accomplished Miss Stewart, only datighter
of Arthur Stewart, member of the best and oldest
frmily ire."
No doubt many read it and thought of the fortunate
bride!
Herbet had returned to London: Sir George having
boon informed something of his history, and pitying "the
peer boy." procured him a highly confidental Govern
ment appo:ntment in one of the Colonies. Herbal accepted
it,, but he know not by otiose recommendation he had
btiou benefited. • Ile was now 0111 4 waiting for a vessel
to convoy him to tho regions of voluntary exile. lie
struggled hard to repress terrible, thoughts, and to think
that Alice *night still be contented and happy. And he
only wept when the rein itittiered that she would never
see his grave,
And tthat of Alice? She ,was never known' to utter
a word of misery,—never soon to weep a tear. Whpu
she met her father mho was respectfully obedient, but she
spoke to him no more with a daughter's love. She con
fined herself toiler own room and mired not out; for every
green leaf and every blade of grass brought • a new
thought of Herbed, and another bitter remembrance.
I minuet tell how she Wing changed. Beautiful she was
still, but it was a &dutiful kind of beauty. Every ventage
of color had left her cheeks. They wore white "as
monumental trinrble." Perhaps It 'wagon this account
that her eyes lookelt larger, end the fell liquid blue seemed
almost deepened into black. Or could it be that the dark
thoughts of het brain had effected the change?
But however it was, the sweet guilt:M.9 of face, and
mind end manlier, which had once charoctized the girl,
werogoue. ft.videneos of Narrow did not rest upon her featu
res but they were atinoid hidden by an expression of proud
contempt. She had been "insulted, basely;—grossly in -
sulted.:4-treated Its worse than a child, and allowed no
will of her own! for heart ',tad been torn and lacerated
in the 'most wanton moaner. and the innocent feelings
and desires which she had itherislied all her life, outraged
auddespised!" Obi deeply did atm feel these crueltieli!
She, too,—who had never-bonne-ill will to a single living
creature!. •
Woman's love has been ternled "a fearful thing." And
so it now appeared in hor., Iler 'white lips quivered with
suppressed passion uMen she thought upo n her weans,
and in waking hours, and in troubled sleep. she was pot
bossed with one idea only, and that was of revenge. - But
,upon whom was she to bo revenged: and what could she,
-es poor, helpless, heart-stricken creature, do?
One evening; about a week previone to the day fixed
upon for her wedding. Alice left the house' for the first
time. She walked into the v:llage. Maui met her who
li'oew her well, hut few were bold enough even to say--
"God hull) you. Miss Al co!" At the village post•offico
alio loft a letterearefully sealed. and hastily returned home.
of courm, that letter was for her cousin, and' many will
blame het' when the hearits contents,
"MY DEAREST • _.
you refuso to speak to mo once;, ; mktrest, you
by every refuel/Men:knee of the pitet, lot to &arum.—
They Aoll me I am to be married on Thursday,—thfs day
week. But on Tuesday.—at midnight,—at our old tryst
lug epo!„ in tho i gardem, you wlll . once more meet.
CH ALT= VI.
There were (nighty preparations making at the old
miner house for the wedding.: and the last day hot one
,
had arrived. It also passed away; and the wearied • do
tneaiea retired to rest.
At the hour of midnight. a fentato hatlldrow back the
heavy bolts of tho outer door, which It'd into the moat
lon lv part o'the gaidena. That hand did not once tremble.
It was dark—too dark to sea tlso face or Who was abroad
at such a time, but a human heart might Gave been heard
boating with a 'doting& watt impulse:
Alice stemiCd out' upon. the damp grass. 'She was
ctoicly wrapped -in a fur Infinite. A covering for her head
had beim forgotten, and the long disholved tresses. which
reached below her wilf.t, and but just lett the delicate
profile of her face formed her Only protection
l!from the night dews which were fast fallitig.
In a fow moments an arm was siloutli placed round
her waist. Alice burst into a lloodof tears; they wore
the first she had slwd since her parting 'with the dear
friend, upon whose should:r Iwr head now sunk.
They art down in the secret recess. Even when the
sun wos shilling, there was 'a - durk gloom them—how
dark it was now I Allc'e lay in the arms of her lover. and
she trembled violently; but it was not With fear.
Now came the last entreaties,—the last hope of the
unhappy girl. And now donie, too, the spirit's fearful
struggle between passion and princiele in the breast of
H orbort,
She clung round his neck, and on her knees besought
hint to save her. Sho reminded him of their unnum
bered vows of eternal constancy, breathed even in that
very spot. Was he *.i.ot earrying hie notions of duty
end , honor too far In forgeiting them and abandoning her?
ytrite he right'm leaving her. to bear the name of it wife
when her sou! abhnred the relationship;—when she would
never even try to love her husband,—uover cell him by
that naino,—never consider it her duty to yield him obe
dience;—when she would even tell him with her own
lips, and cure nothing if the whole world knew it; that she
loved another, and was only lino to her merrier 'yowl,'
because he had falsely deserted her!"
And then eho reminded him of thesfirenide home he
had eo often pictured to her;—of the coMiog yews to
which he had looked forward with untold delight. and.
which would still come. but only to find them in their
graviun• or worse 6011, to behold them living without
110pp...retool) in a dreary world! •
MOO' NjtiAto not a single wor4,—deep groans alone
told What his soul antrered. He felt that he was firm
while, he Was spoichless,, and ha dared not attempt to
patio with bor.
Thoirtho weeping„ girl, takiug courage fromhis silence
renewed her anitentian.
•.fierbert, daemon!' why piny [mat fly Wit you now,
—thia vary hour? I have come - prepared to do so! •I,
litiVer*OMiciireirti arA fusal ! ! I have even lefts 'hitter for
my"fittitir, oxciwing my disobedience! Let isttigo, with
you to your foreign bomo, and be yonr wife in spite of
thern'ollii , Wcwilletiiltovo as we :kayo always .dons;
pier oWn'filice will still be' withyou,' and 'tho tlisuful
tldipatious Of 'sh nil ho accoinpliehedll; will
.live on your smilviall tho daY,_an d'rkef;Youl : hoed iti ! My•
bonoip nigln„! 14 1 1.4 - Y4 TO to submit
-to the will of nm;ther.—to a fate worse, fae:Worse than
madness? Let, me follow you.—follow you tho world
over, to beggary, poverty, death, it Cod wills it sot—
Oh: I ifyou have ever loved me as frioudi 'cousin, broth
er, lover! do not tomato me: do not refine Weave mot"
And Alice grew wild with misery. Some will say
bit she had forgotten liar womanly Zig r nlty; perhaps
she had. She beat her bosom in au agony of passion,
and pressed his hand to her heart, when her own failed
to restrain its almost bursting impulse. And when the
violence of hor emotion cheeked farther utterance, her
lips clung to his, and her breath went and camels thick
convulsive sobs.
Hut still Herbert was silent, for the reproaches of her
father rung in his ears.. "What right had nsendi
caut,—to teach disobedience to her who was beside him?
What right had he to thiow himself, a shade*, in her
path to comfort.—an obstacle to impede her advance
ment toward wealth end, dignities?" And I then, whoa
he could nolonger withstand the wild beseeching, of his
poor Alice, he thought of the "viper,"--.Mat was the
name,—"repaying the mercy of its preserver with baso
ingrati ude." And thus ho steeled his heart, and he at
tempted no reply. She felt his inclining; mid hope from
within her heart. _ •
have spoken of many sorrows, of manY sufferings,
but I now come to the moat afflicting part army story.—
Would to heaven I . could blotout of My mind and mem
ory the sad events which must occupy this page! Would
to God that Alice Stewart had trusted not in her own
strength, but sought solace in her heart-breaking trials,
from u source which ever affordeth help to thom that ask
it: How shall I sully characters hitherto unspotted?—
How tell the story Grahame? ,
The time came when they who had been ',inseparable
all their lives long, must be parted forever. The excite
ment or uncertainty was gone,-- , the "last hopt, shivered,"
and Alice could 'only pre)J ileaver to have pity on her,
and let her din there. with his arms around her. And
at length, even her lips ceased to murmur, and the wild
palpitations of her heart only told that life remained.
Herbert would have flown the spot, but her arm still
detainet! him. Though weak as I solitary reed trembling
iu an autumn wind, to him it was es Iron! fie was
powerless beneath its pressure. So' he. lingered, and
lingered, for if ho went, it 'must he never to return; and
he contented liimself with every moment vowing that
flit) not 'sliottld Witness their last farewell. 'I
.My pen cannot proceed further. The Greet Being
who is omniscient, only know their disgrace.
CLIAPTILIL
I would fain urge that the passion of early years thus
rising to .modness at the moment of eternal separation,
might plead for them. But God forgive me if I blame
Alice as the more guilty! A burning love Ilk him,—a
burning thirut for vengeance on those who had driven
madness lute her brain, and hope from her heart.—e
woman's soul within her. proud and lofty, yet oppressed
by a sense of shameful wrongs—what should she not
-ntedatel If it wore revenge. it was such revenge as
woman only could have i devised! If it were love for
an image she was about to lose forever, it was such lova
as could only have entered a woman's heart!
Alice! I trust I wrong thee! But was it wise or well,
when the morning broke, to defer thy wedding.—to feign
en`illnels which existed only in the mind? Was it wise
or Well to meet him -again and again. at midnight. in the
concealed bower, when all thought he - was far away ott
his voyage'? •
The final adieu came at last; and the next morning
Alice stood at the altar. She was pale, very pale; but
all who knew her wondered at her firmness and at her
haughty bearing. They expected to have seep her sup.
ported thrOugh the mockery 'of the "holy rites" bat she
stood by the Bide of her wooer, and appeared eve. taller
than usual.
When Alice left the church, her face bore an •
lion which none dared to look upon a second" ti
which human words fail me to define. •
• CI/AMR Yin.
I have told the history of Alice from the time s
a - little girl. (Now oho ' was a greet end rich lady.
L2.-Arthur Stewart doptored the unhappinose wb '
had occasioned: "bus." said he, ol urn her father,
wea'tny duty to have her weilitrii at heart. I Inv
donS what any other father would have done."
"Your lost "ALICE."
then, MUM his conscience whispered somethingl
eerning a solemn oath sworn at his dying sister'
side, when Herbert cams into the world, he would
reply.. 4 have saved the boy from marrying a poo
It is true, they might have Hied in the old holm•
have - always done., upon the property of her m
whleh. In truth, belongs to Alice; but, then. he is'
Noma, and of good family, and the society in whic h
moves will afford him many opportunities of doing
and wining' a rich Wife." And Arthur Stewart th
it was a blessing. that the children had fallen under
good guardianshipi it was a singular manifestati
the care with which Providence watches over man.
Sir George tree od his wife with the greatest
ness It is due to him to say this. But from her he
had a word of love, or of friendship, or oven of
Ludo. It might be said that they lived togetho
was all. She had been down on her knees to him
fore their marriage, to tell him her story, and to beg
to take pity on hor, but he had turhed a deaf ear, to
prayeis, and told her it "was time to put away chi t
thins." It was strange she should keep op he:
sentment so longs But• Sir George felt assured
time wotild make horn different woman, and in the
tervel he took to drinking, and followed the bound
Those sports, however, did not exactly snit hie co.
or convenience; for he had usually rittided io town,
a severe fall from his horse strengthened his original
tate for them. So ho got r seal in parliainent.
Alice never went abroad. Her chamber was sat
to her sorrows; the servants even disliked to enter
They loved their poor young mistress dearly, for tbej
kuew her etory. And when she did speak to them
it was but seldom, her words were always kind. and
thanked them for the slightest offices.
It would made the heart of the hardest bleed to l bt
seen the mute wrostehodneen of that poor girl. Her
sea Bemired to beat without life. She would
motionless the whole of the day, with her thin white
gee s pressing her forehead; and she bad not a swill
speak to her.
Sometimes. from a secret drawer a book was select
and she sat down to road it. Site kept all the books II
she and Herbert had read together, in that drawer.l
strange hand ever touched them. There were as
love stories, end she often came to passages which t
had marked, either because theradmited the langu
or because it expressed the feelings of their own he
And when her eye met these, the tears came, and A
thanked Gait then. This was the only source of re
she had and-When her brain felt oppressed and her t •
plea throbbed so that her eight teas utterly gone, she
ways opened her secret drawer.
Tho first time Alice smiled after her marriage was
evening whop site was alone. It was well no hun
eye sew her. For a moment there was a burping ch.
end snick dashei of triumph froni liar eyea, and then
Side closed,-tears forced their way, and her chin fell
on her bosom. -
- Alice had discovered "a living pulse" beating bone
her heart. And she knew its meaning. -
From that time new life, aud.rpsw hopo seemed top,
sass her: Thoughts mod thro ugh • hor nand, Whicl
may riol repeat.,
Si 50 A littlAXt, A'dvante.
cluitrirm
Tne toll° rung a merry peal, and there wag a gage
NUMBEIt 20,
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and
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