SAMUEL WRIGHT, Editor and Proprietor.
VOLUME XXIX, NUMBER 10.]
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y's:10x or veurly tliverti-er. Who ore +trivtl)eonfuseil
,to their 110.10..4.,
'SLItt g
The House that was just like its
Neighbors.
Oh the houses ore all alike. you know,—
All the houses alike inn row!
You'll see a babstund in the hall,
Against the punned and polished wall;
And the threaded sunbeam% softly full
On the tong stairs winding op. away
Up to the garret, lone and gray:
And you can hear, if you wait awhile,
'Odd little noises to [stake you smile;
And minutes will be as long as a utile:—
Just as they would in the 11011 SC below,
\Vete you in the entry wailing to go.
.0h the houses ore all alike, you know,—
All the boast:solace, in a row!
And the world swings sadly to and ka—
lif:ls'lw the shining, hut sure the woe!
For in :he sunlight the shadows grow
Over the new name on the door,
Over the (nee unseen before.
Yet who shall number by any art,
The chasms that keep so wide apart
The dancing step and the weary heart!
Oh. who shall guess that the polished swill
Is a headstone over his neighbor's hall?
Yet the houses nre nil alike, you know,—
All the houses alike, in a row:
And solemn sounds are henrd at night,
And solemn forms shut out the light,
And hideous thoughts the soul affright:
Death and despair, in solemn sine,
In the silent, vaulted chambers wait;
And up the stairs as your children gn,
Spectres follow them. to and fro;—
Only a wall between them. oh!
And the darkest demon", grinning. see
The fairest angels th.l.t. d well %volt thee:
For the houses are all alike. you know.--
All the houses alike. in a row ,
ly chariot waile d. gold and goy;
0 1'11 ride,'' I said. -to the woods iceilay.—
Oat to the blithesome wood, away.—
Vsi here the old trees swityin;;• thoughtfully;
Watch the bronco and the shadow's glee?'
.1 smiled lint once with my joy elate,
For n chariot stood at my inughbor's
grim old chariot, dark as fate.
"Oh sheen are you taking my neighbor'!" I cried
And the gray old driver thus replied:—
'Where the hon.., are all alike, you know,—
Narrow lion-e-t, all urn row!
Unto a Iwatt - it, coy:* he with.
...The rood hes sleep thronih the Vile of Death
Oh, it makes the old ..teed, ca-p in; latentle.
Tared be a new cattle over the door,
10 a place whore /Ws never been before,
- Wile re the neighbors niece r s i.it. they •ay.--
NlThere the .streetg are eehole4s. night mod day,
And the ehildren harden their elo'db.li pliny.
A nil if you stolid,' live next door, I doubt.
If you'd ever hear what they were about
Who lived nit the next house of the row,—
Though the houses are all abbe, lon knot.%
[Atlantic Mon tidy
gtlf ttirrn.s.
13I4ci,voucl'.;11zig - azttie
The Jew.
A TALE 1110%1 THE RUSSIAN.
I was at Vienna a few sears ago. After
trying several tables ti'lente I established
myself at a hotel in the ludenstrasse, fre
quented by a select society. Mr. Muller.
master of this establishment di I its honors
with thorough German gravity. Perfect I
order, extreme and co nscien tious cleanliness,
reigned through the house. Otto might pass
through the servant's romn, and even through
the kitchen, without meeting with anything
by which the sight was in theleast offended.
The cellar was as well arranged as a book
case, and the regulations of the house, as
regarded bulb the service and the hours of
meals, were us punctually observed as they I
could have been in a seminary. If a guest )
carne in late, though it were bat ten minutes,
he was served apart, in an adjoining room,
that the comfort of all might not be sacri
ficed to the convenience of one.
In the conversation at this table d'hote
there prevailed a tone of good society which
excluded neither case nor pleasantry; but a
,caustio or indelicate expression would have
,jarred on the ear like a false note in a well
executed concert. The countenance of Mrs.
})fuller, in which dignity was blended with
benevolence, was the barometer by which
the young men regulated themselves when
the influence of Rhine wine or Stettin beer
plight lead them a little too far. Then Mrs.
Muller, assumed an air of reserve; by a few
words she adroitly broke off the conversa
tion, and turned it into another channel;and
;the glanced gravely at her daughter, who,
pritbout affectation or pouting, kept her eyes
fixed on her plate until the end of the meal.
Ellen Muller was the type of thesebcauti
ful German faces which the French call
gold, because they know not how to read
them; she was a happy mixture of the Saxon
and Hanoverian characters. A pure and
open brow, eyes of inexpressible softness,
lips habitually closed with maidenly reserve,
a transparent complexion, whose charming
blushes each moment protested against the
immobility of her bearing, auburn hair,
whose rich and silken curls admirable har
monized with the serenity of her features,
a graceful and flexible form ;just expanding
into womanhood—such was Ellen Muller.
A counselor of the Court, liar:llh Baron
von Noth, who had resigned his functions
in consequence of an injustice that had been
done hint; several students, whose parents
had recommended theta to the vigilance of
Mr. Muller. and a few merchants, composed
the majority of the habitual guests. The
party was frequently increased by travelers,
literary men and artists. After dinner,
philosophy, polities, or literature, were the
usual topics of conversation, in which Mr.
Muller, a man of extensive acquirements
and good sense, took part, with a choice of
expression anti an elevation of views that
would have astonished me in a man of his
station in any country but Germany.
Sometimes Ellen would sit down to the
piano, and sing some of those simple and
beautiful melodies in which the tenderness,
the gravity, and the piety of the German
national character seem to mingle. Then
conversation ceased; every countenance ex
pressed profound attention; and each listener,
as if he were assisting at areligious service,
translated the accents of that universal
language according to his sympathies, his
associations and the habitual direction of
his ideas.
E 1 50
*0 39
I was not long in perceiving that `Baron
Von Notli and a young student named
Werter were particularly sensible to Ellen's
charms and merit. In the Baron,a middle
aged man, there was a mixture of dignity
and eagerness which betrayed an almost
constant struggle between pride and energy
of a strong passion. It is between the ages
of thirty and forty that the passions hare
most empire over us. At that period of life
the character is completely formed; and as
we well know what we desire so do we strive
to attain our end with all the energy of a
perfect organization.
Wetter was little more than nineteen
years old. Ile was tall, fair and melancholy.
I am persuaded that love had revealed itself
to the young student by the intermediation
of the musical sense. I had more than
once watched him when Ellen sang. •A sort
of fever agitated him; he isolated himself in
a corner of the room, and there, in a mute
eestaey, the poor boy inhaled the poison of
love.
The pretensions of Ellen's two admirers
manifested themselves in attentions of very
different kinds, and in which were display
ed their different natures. The Baron
brought Mrs, Muller, tickets for concerts
and theater.. Often at the dessert. he would
send for delicions htmgarian wine, in which
he drank the health of the ladies, slightly
inclining his head to Ellen, as if he would
have said—l bow to you :Alone. Welter
would stealthily place upon the piano a new
ballad, or a volume of poetry; and when
the young girl took it up, his face flushed
and brightened as if the blood were about
to burst front it. Ellett smiled modestly at
the 13aron, or gracefully thanked the student;
but she seemed, not to suspect that which
neither of them dared bite!' her.
Au attentive observer of all that passed.
I did my utmost to read Ellen's heart, nod
decide as to the future chance of the Baron's
or the student's loves. She woo pa44...ionatetly
fond of narratives and adventure, and thanks
to the wandering life I had led, I was able
to gratify this taste. I noticed that traits
of generosity and noble devotion pr o duced
an eat raordinary effect upon her. Her c 3 en
sparkled as though she would fain base
distingiushed, through time nod space, the
hero of a noble action; then tears moistened
her beautiful l a shes, as reflection recalled
her to the realities of life. I understood
that neither the Baron nor Wester was the
mall to win her heart; they were neither of
them equal to her. Ilad I been ten years
younger, I think I should have been vain
enough to enter the lists. But another
person whom none would at first have taken
fur a man capable of feeling and inspiring
a strong passion, was destined to carry off
the prize.
One night, that we were assembled in the
drawing ruom, one of the habitual visitors
to the house presented to us a Jew, who
had just arrived from Lemberg, and whom
business was to detain for sonic months at
Vienna. In a few words. Mr. Muller made
the stranger acquainted with the rules and
customs of the house. The Jew replied by
monosyllables, as if he had disdained to
espend more words and intelligence upon
details so entirely immaterial. 110 bowed
politely to the ladies, glanced smilingly at
the furniture of the room, round which he
walked, as in token of taking possession,
and then installed himself in an arm-chair.—
This pantumine might hare been translated
thus: "Here I am; look at me once for all,
and then heed me no more." Malthus—
that was the Jew's name—had a decided
limp in his gait; he was a manor the middle
height and of a decent bearing; his hair was
neglected; but a phrenologist would have
read a world of things in the magnificent
development of his forehead.
The conversation became general. Mr.
Malthus thus spoke little, but as soon as he
opened his mouth everybody was silent.—
This apparent deference proceeded perhaps
as much from a tloire to discover his weak
points as from politeness toward the new
comer.
The Jew had one of those penetrating
and sonorous voices whose tones seems to
reach the very soul, and which impart to
words inflexions not less varied than the
forms of thoughC lie summed up the dis
cussion logically and lucidly; but it was
easy to see that, out of consideration fur in
"NO ENTERTAINMENT IS SO CHEAP AS READING, NOR ANY PLEASURE SO LASTING."
COLUMBIA, PENNSYLVANIA, SATURDAY HORNING, SEPTEMBER 11, 1858.
terlocutors, he abstained frotn putting forth
his whole strength.
The conversation was intentionally led to
religious prejudices; at the first words spo
ken un this subject, the Jew's countenance
assumed a sublime expression. Ile rose at
once 0) the most elevated considerations; it
was easy to see that his imagination found
itself in a familliar sphere: lle wound up
with NO pathetic and powerful a peroration,
that Ellen, yielding to a sympathetic im
pulse, made an abrupt movement toward
him. Their two souls had met, and wore
destined mutually to complete the happi
ness to each other.
I said to myself the Jew . w . al be Ellen's
husband.
Then I applied myself to observe him
more attentively. When Mr. Malthus was
not strongly moved and animated, ho was
but an ordinary man, nevertheless. by the
expression of his eyes, which seemed to
look within himself, one could discern that
be was internally pre-occupied with superior
minds. Some celebrated authors were spo
ken of; ho remainad silent. Baron von
Noth leant over toward me and said in a
voice, "it seems that our new acquaintance
is not literary." •
"I should be surprised nt that, r replied;
and what is more, I would lay a wager
that he is musical." The Baron drew back
with a movement of vexation, and, as it . to
test my sagactity, heasked Ellen to sing some
thing. The amiable girl begged bins to ex
cuse her, but without putting forward any
of those small pretests which most young
ladies would have invented on the instant.'
Rer mother's authority was needed to van
quish her instinctive resistance. Iler pre-1
lude testified to some unwonted agitation;
its first notes roused the Jew from his rever
ie; soon she recovered herself and her visi
ble emotion did. but add a fresh charm
to the habitual expression of her singing.
Suddenly she stopped short, declaring
that her memory failed her,
Then to our great astonishment, a rich
and barmonius voice WUS heard, and Ellen
continued accompanied by one of the finest
tenors I ever listened to in my life.
The Boron bit his lips; Wcrter was pale
with surprise. The warmest applause fol
lowed the conclusion of the beautiful (bleu,
Malthus had arisen from his chair, and
seemed under the spell of harmony. Ile
gave some advice to Ellen, who listened to
to it with avidity; he even made her repeat
a passage, which she afterwards sang With
admirable expression. He took her lint Id
ahnost with enthusiasm, and exclaimed.—
"I. thank you,"
"Very odd, indeed," said the Baron.—
Poor Wetter said nothing, but went and
sat himself down very pensive, at. the
further end of the drawing-room.
Mrs. Muller was radiant at her dangh
ter's success. As to Ellen, she merely said,
in a low voice;
"If I had instruction, I should perhaps
be able to make somethiog, of music."
"With your Mother's pertnis4m," re
joined Malthuq, "I shall have pleasure in
sometimes a ccompanyin g you."
Mrs. Muller ca , t a scrutinizing glance at
the Jew. whise countenance had resumed
its habitual calmness, showed nothing; that
could eiceite her su,picionq. She judged
that such it man was not at all
and accepted his offer. Malthus bowed
with cold dignity—dmbtless appreciating
the motive of this confidence—and Ellen
struck a few notes, to divert attention from
her embarrassment.
The Baron who sow- 4 1a a v'nt for his ill
humor, said to the young girl, pointing to
the Jew•'4 stick:
“If anything siniull halt in the necom
panitnent. there is what will restore the
inea-ure.”
Ellen rose, cast a look at the •Matron,
which meant. "One meets people like you
everywhere," and left the room. Malthus
took up a newspaper, and read until we
separated for the night.
The Jew lead the regular life of a man
who knows the value of time. He worked
until noon, paid or received a few visits,
went upon Change about two o'clock, then
shut himself up in his apartment and was
visible to nobody, and at precisely four
o'clock entered Mr, Mul/er's room, where
Ellen awaited him at the piano. It was
easy to see that lie daily assumed a greater
ascendancy over the mind of the pupil,
whose progress was rapid.
When Malthus smiled, Ellen's charming
countenance assumed an indescribable ex
pression of satisfaction: but as soon as he
relapsed into his habitual thoughtful mood,
the poor girl's soul appeared suspended in
a sympathetic medium; she saw nothing.
answered nobody—in a word, she instinc
tively assimilated herself to the mysterious
being whose influence governed her.—
When Malthus leaned on his cane in walk•
ing Ellen seemed to say. "My arm would
support him so well!"
The Jew, however, did not limp so disa
greeably; his left leg was well formed, and
his symetrical figure showed the disturbance
in his harmony to have been the result of
accident. He had the appearance of having
long become reconciled to his infirmity, like
a soldier who considers his wounds a glo
rious evidence of his devotion to his coun
try.
I bad more than once felt tempted to ask
Malthus the history of his lameness, but be
eluded with so much care every approach to
tho subject, that I deemed myself obliged
to respect his secret.
TWO 11104E11S 11:1 , 1121I thus, and I had an
opportunity of appreciating the right-mind
edness generosity and enlightenment that
dwelt in the acce , silde part of that extra
ordinary soul. In pre-enee of this danger
ous rival, who triumphed withouta straggle,
the Baron became almo , t tender. His self
love cruelly su tiered to see preferred to him
a lame merchant, with a tine voice. He
attempted to quiz him: but Malthus con
founded him so completely by the aptness
of his retorts. that the laughers were net el'
on the side of the MOW].
One night the family party was assembled
Werter approached Mr. Muller with a sup
pliant air, and delivered to him a letter from
his father. The poor young man's agita
tion nuule rue suspect that the letter con
tained a proposal. Mr. Muller read it with
attention and handed it to his wife, who
glanced over it and cast a scrutinizing
glance at her daughter, to make sure
whether or no she was forewarned of this
step. A mother's pride is always flattered
under such circumstances and the first im
pulse is generally favorable to the man who
has singled out the , :thject - of her dearest
affections; but the second thought is one of
prudence; a separation, the many risks of
the future, soon check the instinctive satis
faction of the maternal heart and a thous
and motives concur to arrest the dreaded
consent.
"It %Core well," lie said, "first to know
what Ellen thinks."
The words were like a ray of light to
the poor girl, whose countenance ex
pressed the utmost surprise,
"Besides, he is very young," said Mrs.
Muller, lend enough fir the Baron to hear.
Werter's position was painful; he stam
mered a few words, became embarrassed
and abruptly left the room.
"A mere child." (moth, the Baron, "who
should be sent back to his books."
Malthus, who had observed all that had
passed, res ted his two loaulsonhissticklike
mart disposed to argue a poin t, and warmly
defended the student.
"It cannot b. denied," lie said. in con
clusion, "that the young tnan . -,eltoiee pleads
in his favor; and his embarrassment, which
at that age k not unl,e4,,tmlog proves iu my
opinion, that while rt-pining to so _rent a
happiness, he has ...atilt:lent mode-ty to admit
him.elf unworthy a it."
"If a declaration were a sutlieiont proof
of merit," interrupted the conn , ellor, "I
know ()nil man who would not hesitate—"
"Ind who is that?" inquired Mrs. Muller
with ill-concealed cariosity.
"My anallam," replica the coun,ellor
—"Baron vim Nwh."
Ily the way in whieh thi< WitS spoken the
di-,3•llable '• mysey"' pp..:11 ed lengthened by
all tae impa•taave of the ia , r•onage.
"At my age melt do not eli.inge," contin
ued the Baron: n l the precut is a guaran
tee c.a. the future."
Ellen was reully to be pitied, When
Malthus took Werter•s part, I saw that she
was on the point of fainting. Iler counten
ance, naturally .) gentle. ‘va , ; overshadowed
by on expres•ion of %exation and displea , -
ure. She had taken the Jew's benet /dent
defence of the student fit n murk of indif
ference. While -.till unilt:r the influence of
t hi s p a i n f u l i m pression, the Baron's deafen
tion Collie to add to her agitation; slat east
a rept...wilful glance at Malthus, sank back
in her chair and s sated away. The Jew
,prang, fffi ward. took her in his a rms , j a m
her on it sofa, and knelt down lie-ide her.
•'You have not t ualer•tood etc then!" he
Tsllcu "pelted her eyr.Q. and beheld at her
feet the man %%limn her heart had selected;
and, absurhed in her uneett , eitin
of the pre-enee of the.te i ‘ h., ..tteel a roun d,
she murmured iti a feehle reice:
"Yam's! Ymirs alnel—ever ytitir,?"
"Sir," said Muller. "my
proposal conies rather late: but I !tope yin
will be .so good as to take it into consider:v.
OEM
In the Jew's mannerthPre was the dignity
of a man in a l osition to dictate condition!.
Ellen had recovered her-elf. As to Mr.
Muller, there had not been time for his
habitual phlegm to become disturbed: but
his wife could not retrain a smile at this
dramatic complication, whose denouement
remained in suspense.
"Mr. Y.," said she to me. somewhat
mnliciouslr, "do you not feel the effect of
example?"
"Perhaps I might Face been unable to
resist," said I, "had not Mr. Malthus de
clared himself la fore me,"
Ellen blushed, and the TIONr pressed my
hand. Just then 'Wetter re-entered the
room, pale and downcast, like a man who
comes to hear Sentence passed upon hi m ._
There was profound silence, which lasted
several minutes, or a least seemed to me to
do so. At last Mr. Muller broke it.
"Gentlemen," he said: ant much flat
tered at the honor you have done me—"
He paused and seemed to be recalling
past events to his mind. During this short
silence, Werter gazed at its in truth with
an air of astonishment, and I doubt not that
he included me in the number of his rivals.
"I have something totell pm," continued
Mr. Muller. "which will perhaps nualify
your present intentions. About ten years
ng,o I had to visit Berlin, where my father
hod just died. The winding up of his af
fairs proved complicated and troublesome,
and I was obliged to place my interests in
the bands of a lawyer, who had been recom
mended to me at , extremely skillful. The
business at last settled, I found my's'elf en
titled to about forty thousand florins, which
I proposed to embark in trade. I was hap
pily married, and Ellen was seven years
011. Our little fortune had been greatly
impaired by a succession of losses, for which
this inheritance would compensate.
"One day I went to my lawyer's to re
ceive the money. Ile had disappeared, tak
ing it with him. Despair took possession of
me; I dared not impart the fatal news to my
wife, and, I confess it with shame, I de
termined on suicide. All that day I scrambled
about the country, and at nightfall I ap
proached the bank, of the Spree. Climbing
upon the parapet of a high bridge. I gazed
with gloomy delight into the dark waters
that rolled beneath. On my knees upon
the stone, I offered up a short but fervent
prayer to lino who wounds and heals; I
commended my wife and daughter to Ills
mercy, and precipitated myself from the
hi idge. I was struggling instinctively
against death, when I felt myself seized by
a vigorous arm. A man swam near me,
and drew me towards the shore, which we
both reached.
"It was so dark that I could not distin
guish the features of my preserver; but the
tones of his voice made an impression upon
the which has not yet been effaced, and I
have met but one man whose voice has re
minded mo of that of the generous unknown.
Ile compelled me to go home with him.
questioned Inc as to my motives for so des-
perate an act, and, to toy extreme astonish
ment, handed me a portfolio containing forty
thousand florins, on the express condition I
that I should take no steps to find him out.
I entreated him to accept my marriage
ring, at sight of which I promised to repay
the loan, its soon as it should be possible, for
me to do so. Ile took the ring, and I left
him, toy heart brimful of gratitude.
not attempt to describe to you the
the joy with which I once more embraced
my wire and daughter. God alone can re
pay my benefactor all the good be did us.
I arranged my affairs, and we set out for
Vienna, where I formed this estaldi-hment,
of which I cannot consider myself more than
temporary possessor. You perceive, gentle
men, that Ellen has no dowry to expect, and
that we may at any moment be rehired to
a very precarious po-ition."
Ellen's face was hidden with her hands
When Mr. Muller ceased speaking, we still
listened. Presently the dew brie silence.
••1 hare :t little," lie 16.1, "to :111.1 to your
n.irration; the matt vt-a-; sf,
to render you a ,en lie, rent tinel a cr ipple
for the re , t 1,1 Ili, :lay,. When he plunged
tutu the Spree, he -truck at. t aia,t a .tutee,
and since thnll he lit:lp,, 3 :::: percei% e."
We were all motionle , ,
Then Malthus drew a ring front hi, finger
and handed it to Mr. Muller. The eennte-
Lance of the latter, generally so cold in it ,
expiee,ion, was suddenly extraordinarily
agitated, teary started to hit eyes, arid he
threw himself into his pre , erver's arms.
"All that I pueeess belong, to you," he
cried, "and 1 have the happiness to inform
you that your capital has doubled."
"Of all that you posse , ,," replied Ma-
thin, Lick hut one thing, to which I has e
no right,"
The worthy German took the band of his
daughter, who trembled with happiness and
surprise, anti, placing it in that o f the •Jcw—
"Sir," said he, addressing himself to me.
"you whit hare .seen the world, and who are
disinterested in this /iciest ion, do yen think
that I e.tuld do better?'
First and Last Love
I=l
"I lore my Inge with an L," said I, and
away li eta the long apnb; paring over my
shoulder. There was a rush and a scramble
to see if my letter had been firmed upon the
floor, arid shouts that it was an L, and
shouts that it was not, but instead, almost
every other letter in the alphabet.
All the time I , at feeling extremely shy
and awkward. and not at all relieved when
the point under discus-ion was decided in
favor of the L. although I had chosen the
letter because. so far as I knew, it slid not
form the initial of any one of the young
men present. Bat I began mbe afraid that
I had not chosen wisely, after all, and that
I might be called upon yet for sonic of the
ridiculous forfeits of the game. How I trem
bled. then, when I heard the shouts.
"Here ii thr L. Leander Borate, Miss
Kate has chosen you! Look! see the L.
upon the floor."
Somebody wars coming toward me. Some
body said, "Miss Betty—Mr. lb ilme,." A tall
figure bent before me. and sat down silently
• 1
by my side. All this I saw dimly under
eyelids that were cast down in real, not af
' feeted, shyness. how grateful I was not to
find myself pulled into the centre of the
room and Icis , ed boisterously, as happened
i to many of the girls present that evening.
and Icho under the infliction only blushed
a little and tittered a good deal.
This was my second country party. I
hail suffered tortures at the first, and ex
pected to stiffer tortures at this. I felt that
I had escaped happily, if 1 might lie allowed
Ito sit quietly in the corner I had chnsen.—
Even the very silent person at my side did
not particularly annoy me so long as the
noisy group in the centre of the room would
allow me to be quiet.
I bad been reared from early childhood
in the house of a wealthy, childless uncle in
the city. 1 was very young, and had no
81,50 PER YEAR IN ADVANCE; 82,00 IF NOT IN ADVANCE
idea of society, except what I gained from
being a looker-on at my aunt's semi-annual,
stiff and formal parties, where the company
was very decorus and excessively stupid.
My uncle had died very suddenly, with
out a will,and the heir-at-law had taken pos
session of his property", leaving my aunt
with a comparatively small income, while I,
after having been reared until the age of
sixteen in the midst of wealth and luxury,
was left entirely un provided far.
My aunt went to live in lodgings, and I
was sent back to my father, who was a poor
man, with many children, and a slatternly,
scolding wife, who was not my mother.—
My own mother had died in my infancy,
and it was said my father had never been
hint , - - elf since. Ile had become dissipated.
last his habits of business, which were fact
bringing him wealth, and at last, quitting
busine.s entirely, had gone to live on a lit
tie farm in the interior of the State, had
married, and was now surrounded by a large
disorderly, boisterous family.
Into this uncongenial home I was sud
denly thrust from the refinements of my life
in the house of a wealthy citizen. I was
shy nod unhappy. I had never been accus
tomed to the companionship of children, but
I soon found that whenever I shrank invol
untary front the dirty, noisy crew around
me I gave offense to the mother, and, t hrough
her representation, [4; toy father, who
seemed completely:under her influence.
Every instinctive indulgence in the tastes
and habits in which I had been reared wa ,
looked upon as an evidence of pride, and I
soon found all the influences of home ar
rayed against me and my wishes.
I had shrunk, through shyness, from at
tending the first party, but had gone because
I !maid not resist my mother's sneers and
my father's commands. And so 1111101 had
I been terrified by the gond-natured boister
ousness of the young, people assembled that
I mentally resolved never to go again. Not
iv it hstanding. I found myself once more in
the same circle, after a very trying scene at
home, and in my dread of the thirty pairs
of eyes fixed upon me, had been drawn into
their games.
I had nnt:yet glanced at the face of the
young man at my side, nor hada word been
interchanged, when the noisy group in the
centre of the room broke up. They came
crowding ar,:und me, uttering broad but
gooddonnored jests that I felt sent the bbmd
noshing awl burning into my face. My
e onpaoion most lia , e felt me trembling,
too, for he suddenly leaned forward and
whispered:
'•Ito not he afraid, Miss Kate; they do not
intend any harm, and I will see that they
do not much annoy yon."
I gave him one grateful glance, for I was
too near crying to dare to trust my voice,
and met a pair of brilliant, dark eyes fixed
full upon my face, very mirthful, yet a good
deal compassionate in expression. Soddenly
he rose up, and drawing my arm within his,
turned to the bantering group.
"Miss Kate has chosen me this evening,
and I take her under my protection. I shall
be a very tyrant, and not one of you must
speak to her without my permission."
So saying, lie led me away to an opposite
corner of the room, There, seeing that be
tween shyness and the annoyances just pas
sed, I way still unt.ble to control my voice or
features, he stood before me speaking calmly
and quietly of some unimportant sul•jcet.—
Ilis pleasant voice and quiet manner soon
helped me to control my agitation, evil then
he sat down beside me. I was amazed at
myself talking gayly with this stranger, and
still more amazed to find myself happy- for
several hours of the evening to which I had
looked forward with so much dread, and
which hod commenced so inauspiciously,
And when he brought several of the bright,
ruddy-looking girls to speak to me in the
course of the evening, I found what foolish
shyness had prevented me from learning lLe
fore that they were amiable, warm-hearted
creatures, in spite of their lack of refine
ment. So, on the whole, the erening, passed
pleasantly, end I was never afraid to go
again, especially as, when they found I was
not too proud to join in their sports, they
never attempted to drag me into any which
I did not like..
Bat chief among the pleasant memories
..f that evening was the kindness of Leander
llolme. A pair of lark eyes haunted my
thought.; fur many a day, and I never forgot
the soothing impression of his calm voice
and pleasant manner.
Leander Ilo!me was the son of the only
rich titan in the neighborhood. Tie had been
well educated, and that alone would hate
rendered him infinitely superior to tho , e
around him, even if his winning. manner had
not been that of a perfect g.,,mtlentan refined,
eourteotr4 and manly.
Of course no one will wonder that I be
came deeply in lore with Leander Rolole.-1
His devotion had never wavered from the
and long before the first winter in my
father's home was passed I promised to be;
his wife. It vr,uld have been a dreary
and tniQeralde winter indeed without his
pre,ence and his love, but with it—ah, even
now that long years have pac.sed, I t hi n k
of that, only recurring to that time. and
net er of the discomforts that had, in the
fullness of my.happiness, ceased to make
me mi,crable.
My father and his wife were all smiles
and approval. But when, toward spring.
our engagement came to the knowledge of
Leander's father ho at once announced his
decided disapprobation. I heard that he
[WHOLE NUMBER, 1,467.
asserted that he would never consent that
his son should marry the daughter of
a lazy, dissipated man, and he said that my
city rearing was scarcely a better prepara
tion for tho duties of Ilolmo Place than I
should have received at the hands of that
brawling, slatternly father's wife.
Leander was firm, and talked of the fu
ture and patient waiting. But I felt that I
had been scorned and my indignation
was unbounded. I wrote to my aunt, tel
ling her all in no measured phrase, and
begging her to send for rue to live with her
once more, if possible. Her answer was to
come at once, and I departed, much to the
consternation of my father and the ill-con
cealed delight of his wife, who hated me
more than ever since she heard of Colonel
flolmo's remark.
I left a little note for Leander, who W. 11.3
abqent at the time, Baying that the engage
ment had better end, and releasing hint
fully and unconditionally. I wrote and
sealed the note without he,itation or falter
ing, though it cost me a severe pang to do
I did not know until I had been settled
in my aunt's home a week, and my letters,
in a package directed in Leander's hand,
arrived without a line from him, how I had
hoped through all that he would not con
sent to be released, but would still cling to
But he too, had his indignation—he was
hurt that I should have arranged for any
departure without consulting him, and ho
waq pained at the coldness of my note. So,
throtzgh the faults of others, and misunder
,tanding of their own, two hearts that re
ally and truly loved were severed. Alasl
that the story hail so many c , ointerparts!
My aunt's income, by considerable econ
omy, supported us, and enabled us to Ts
rain our place in the society to which we
had been accustomed. It had been more
than she anticipated when she sent me
home to my father, or she never would have
exposed me to the trials I had passed.
As time passed on I had lovers, as noy
pretty girl will—for, if I might believe my
mirror and toy friends, I was not without
attractions—but none of them touched my
heart.
On looking back I can see that I was
always waiting with an undefined expec
te tation of something that never came. Was
for Leander that I waited? If it was, I never
acknowledged it to myself, but it was with
a terrible pang, a dumb but very real ser
r,w—that served as an excuse for illness, it
was so like it—that I heard after two or three
years that he was married.
My step-mother wrote it to me—this
wedding news—dilating maliciously upon
the wealth and beauty of the bride, who
had come from a distant city to reside at
lloltue Place. Upon the planting and fen
cing, the painting and glazing, and beauti
fying of the old house, and upon the loads
of beautiful furniture which the bride's
father had sent to furnish the old rooms.
I answered that Leander Reline was
worthy any lady in the land, and bade her
congratulate him in my name, if she saw
him; hoping thus, I believe, to disarm her
suspicions and convince hint thfit I bad for
gotten my love for him.
I went more into society after this, and
it was remarked thet I was gayer than
had formerly been. I was not aware of it.
for I only knew what I was striving to for
get. I had no other object in life now.
The years seemed very long and weary.
Society did not Fatisfy me, and 1 came to ho
looked upon as a coquette when, one after
another, I rejected the suitors viborn my
gayiety and brilliancy of manner brought to
my feet. I became restlessly unhappy,
with a craving for some object for thought
and duty that would not find satisfaction iu
the life I led.
At that time my aunt had a severe ill
ness, and the new cares which then devolved
upon me were very good fir me. From this
she never fully recovered, and for
two or three years before death came to re
lieve her from her suffering, and whilel way
busily occupied in ndmini•tering to her
comfort, I grew more patient and quiet.
By and by I was alone. I laid her who
had been all that a mother could have been
to roe for many years, in the grave, and I
was left without care or duty. my means
were now ample, for my nant Innl bequeathed
her property to me, and ev.eept a tender sor
row fur the dead, I should Intro been very
happy. But I was not.
I brought ono of my littte sisters to lire
with me, very glad to receive her from such
0 home. I went far her, nod while on my
visit attended the village church, and front
beneath my black veil saw Leander Holm's
and the woman that occupied the place that
should have been mine. She was 'nuking
pale and ill. It was said she was unhappy,
and that her husband treated her, though
always courteously, with great coldness. I
felt a, miserable, choking feeling—half de
light, half bitterness, at the thought that he
did not love her. but I baffled even my step
mother's curiosity by my impenetrnbility---
/ am sure she did nut learn whether I took
any interest in the dwellers at Ilolme Place.
More years passed. I still had offers.
though no longeryoung. Atlastl determin
ed to accept one. Arthur :%lerldea was a
man worthy of my estconi—worthy of my
lore, only that I had no lore to giro. lie
was satisfied when I told him all, and I
promised to become his wife.
But as soon as I bad promised, the old,
wretched, waiting feeling came back. it