Of DJLUR PER AWM, INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE.
i\AVAN JJA :
nioniutn, Xoocmbcr li. IS3U.
(Original
\ life song.
by syrii. rinie.
• cut n;■ iv.ml. the i>Ath lie-; tiefure thee ;
t , ittii'm what thy spirit would win ;
• n .' portal* are wide to unfold thee,
vi ." Grave, th u --hall enter within.
r j. r ,. v .. r _o. why art th >u staying,
•• .11, h .1 -"at there i* to he won ;
T .., „ now. t'l -urrli the tempter he saying—
, ■ | t'iv It in l-. f>T all labor i* done.''
i a ,;-t;! in life** early morning—
.ire pre i nt* y mth has none to spare ;
-ii .mis thy *ky is adorning ;
~ ill -it down in tpiiet despair?
\ ! v i . -troiig like the oak which has breasted
.. i haw bowed the tall pine in liU pride;
' v the i,ei i vi wave crested :
, i tin ...'lit winch no darkness can hide.
v, . ~k ,?ownw ard, ihong's ehntds loom above tliee;
. ; : ; the * int lie proud in its might;
M. sho dd it- ph uitonts allure ttiee,
:h ■ -h :ie l.e darkened to night.
*,! ; ilre.uu* meet full fruition ;
•' . r ,ld .vorid in homage will tov ;
-weet to k i ov life luitli a mission.
. inrel-w re.it!> rents on thy brow.
?C I Cll fi) fir a 11.
v e'ty •V'rA.'sik]
\tl'.ose who attended the first of the
t-s. during the London season of IS—,
allied gentleman of large fortune,
S'. iitlicld. AVhilc his carriage was
g >'• i\\ V down St. James'street, he
- icgltt such amusement and oeeitpa
- ■■uhl find in looking on the brilliant
, i liitn. The day was unusually flue,
t spectators thronged the street and
oiios of the houses on cither side of it,
. '-gat the different cquippages with as
. r a cariosity and interest, as if fine vehi
: line people inside thoni we# the rarest
- of contemplation in the whole mctropo
-I'. i, ingat a slower and slower pace,
**• a I tivlil's carriage had ju.-t arrived at
1 ii-.- of the street, when a longer stop
n usual occurred. He looked carc
ip at the nearest balcony ; and there,
_ eight or ten ladies, all strangers
saw one face that riveted his atteu
• iiately.
' • • vcr bt-hcld anything so beautiful,
ng which had struck him with such
• -led. ami sudden sensations, as
lie gazed and gazed on it, hardly
u lo re he was, or what he was doing,
lie of vehicles began to move on.—
i afti r first ascertaining thennml rof the
' flnng himself back in the carriage,
•! 'o examine his orn feelings, to rea
intoseil-possession ; but it was ail
lie was seized with that amiable
- • bible monomania, called " love at
cd tli -palace, greeted his friends-,
■ osl all the necessary court cereiuo
g the whole time like a man in a
il< -pike mechanically, and moved
; tin- lovely lace in the balcony
i ... ;!; nights, to the exclusion of cve
:>ifi his n-turii home, he had eu
"c 1 < fop the afternoon and the evening—'
. ' ami br- kc them all ; and walked
■V .boa > street us soon as he had
-itvu i,.> dress.
. y was empty, the sight-seers.w ho
i nt a few hours before, had de
bet obstacles of aR Sorts now tended
inulate Mr. Streatfield ; he was de
it' -ertain t lie parent age of the young
- • Ut-uriuincd to iook on the lovely face
c tin■naonicter- of his heart had risen
y ' fi-v-r heat * Without loss of time
• ; keei --r to whom the house belonged
m loquacity by n purchase. All
i !'• in answer to their inquiries, was.
■ iet lodgings to au elderly gentle
- w fc. fro n the country, who had
■- ■ :*r ■ ads iu their balcony to see the
■ Nothing daunted, Mr.
I• . unci] and questioned again.—
1 < t • • >!. i gentleman's name ?—Dinis
- a' see Mr. Hinisdale's servant ?
- -.'opkccper had no doubt that
M Ibmsdale's servant should bo
; " m < lately.
w - the servant, the all-impor
chnin of love's evidence, made
; "i <v Ho was a pompous. portly
" s U MI with .-oleum attention, with
i to Mr. Streatfielu'- ra
■ ,;t confused itujuiries, which
■i ! y a minute description of
- AN i IT several explanatory
■ y fictitious, ami all very
v - the servant w as, ami sus
• oj le are, he ha<l never*
" 1 ■ p. rccive that he wa<
• '}' •• - uau, ami gratitude enough
•i> mollified by the handsome
• was fpiietly s!:pj>ed into his
1 • ■! j-onuering ami doubting,
"• ed at the conclusion that the
>(r. ufi Id's iu<jtiiries was a Miss
" • 1 joined the party in the bal
•g, with her sister ; and who
- ' r of Mr. Langley, of Laughy
r The familV was now -tay
—-treet. M >re informa
nt he servant stated that he could
ua* certain that he had made
Miss - Lankier were the
■ , - in the house that mom-
Mr Str atfiekl wished to
r. l,e w as ready to carry any
*_ h i e might be charged.
a 'i. !1 had already hoard
THE BRADFORD REPORTER.
for his club, determined to discover some means
of being introduced, in due form, to Miss Lang
lev, before he slept that night, though he
should travel round the whole circle of his ac
quaintance, high and low, rich and poor, in
making the attempt. Arrived at the club, he
began to inquire resolutely, in all directions,
for a friend who knew Mr. Langley, of Lang
ley Hall. He disturbed gastronomic gentle
men at their dinner ; lie interrupted agricultu
ral men who were moaning over the prospects
of the harvest ; he start led. literary gentlemen,
who were deep in the critical mysteries of the
last Review ; lie invaded billiard room, dress
ing room, smoking room ; lie was more like a
t ralitie ministerial whipper in, hnuting up stray
members for a divisiou, than au ordinary man;
and the oftener he was defeated in his object,
the more determined he was to succeed. At
last, just as lie was standing in the hall of the
club house, thinking where he should go next,
a friend entered, who at once relieved him of
all his difficulties— a precious and inestimable
man, who was on intimate terms with Mr.
Langley, and had been lately staying at Lang
ley ILall. To this friend all the lover's cares
and anxieties were at once confided ; and a
fitter depository for such secrets of the heart
could hardly have been found. He made no
jokes, for lie was not abaebeTor ; heabstaiued
from shaking his head and recommending pru
dence, for he was not a seasoned husband or
an experienced widower ; what he really did.
was to enter heart and soul into his friend's
projects, for he was precisely in that position,
the only position, in which t lie male sex gener
ally take a proper interest in match-making ;
he was a newly ntarried man.
Two days after, Mr. St rent field was the
happiest of mortals ; he was introduced to the
lady of his love, to Miss Jane Langlev. He
really enjoyed the priceless privilege of "looking
once more on the face in the balcony, and
looking on it almost as often as he wished. It
was perfect Elysiuiu. Mr. and Mrs. l.ungley
saw little or no company. Miss Jane was al
ways accessible, never monopolized ; the light
of her beauty shone day after dav for fter
adorer alone : and his love blossomed in it, as
last as flow era in a hot-house. I'assiug bv ail
tumor details of the wooing to arrive the soon
er at the grand fact of the winning. let its simp
ly relate that Mr. Streatfild's object in seeking
an introduction to Mr. Langlev, was soon ex
plained. and was indeed visible enough long
before the explanation. He was a handsome
man, an accomplished man, and a rich man.—
llis two first qualifications conquered the
daughter, and his third the father. Tn si x
weeks Mr. Streatfield was the accepted lover
oi M.ss Jane Langlev. The wedding-day was
fixed ; ;t was arranged that the marriage
should take place at Langley Hall, whither
the family proceeded, leaving the unwilling
lover in London, a prey to all tlie inexorable
bu.siucss formalities of the occasion, For ten
days did tiie ruthless lawyers, those dead
weights on the back of Hymen, keep their vic
tim in the metropolis,'occupied over settlements
that never seemed likely to be settled. Hat
even the long march of the law has its ends,
like other mortal things ; at the expiratiou of
ten days all was completed, and Mr. Streat
field found himself at liberty to start fur I.nng
lcv Ha!!.
A large party was assembled at the house to
grace the approaching nuptials. Tiiere were
to be tableaux, charades, boating trip-, riding
excursions, amusements of all sorts, the whole
to conclude (in the play-bill phrase, with the
grand climax of the wedding. Mr Streatfield
arrived late, dinner wa ready, he had bnrtly
time to dress and then bustle in the drawing
room just as the guests were leaving it, to of
fer his arm to Miss Jane, all greetings with
friends and introductions to strung* rs being
postponed tiii the parte met round the dining
table.
At race had been said, the covers were taken
off. the loud, cheerful hum of conversation
was just begiuning, w hen Mr. Streatfield's eyes
met the eyes of a young lady who was seated
opposite at the table. The guests near him,
oiscrving at the same moment that he contin
ued standing after every one else h id been plac
ed, glanced at him inquiringly. To their as
tonishment and alarm, they observed that his
face had suddenly become deadly pale—his
rigid features looked struck by paralysis. Sev
eral of his friends sjrnke to him, but for the
first few moments he returned no answer.—
Then, still fixing his eyes upon the young lady
opjxisite, he abruptly exclaimed in a voice, the
altered tones of which startled every one who
heard him. " That is the fa -e 1 saw in the bal
cony ; that woman is the ouly woman I can
ever marry !" Tuc next instant, without a
word more, either, gf explanation or apology,
he hurried from the room.
One or two of theguests meclranieallystart
ed up, as if to follow hiin ; the rest remained
at the table, looking on each other in ajweoh
less surprise, Rut before any one could either
act or speak, almost at the moment when the
door closed on Mr. Streatfield, the attention of
all was painfully directed to Jane Langley.—
She had fainted. Her mother ami sisters re
moved her from the room immediately, aided
!by the servants. As they disappeared, fi dead
silence again sank down over tlie company ;
thev looked around, with one accord to tlie
master of the Iwuise. .
.Mr. Langlcy's face and manner sufficiently
revealed the suffering and suspense that he
was secretly enduring. Hut he was a man of
the world, and neither by word or action did
he betrav what was passing within him. He
resume I his place at the table, and begged his
sruests to do the same. 11c affected to make
iiti.il of what bail happened, entreated every
one to forget it, or if they remembered it at
a!', to remember it only as a mere accident,
which worth! uo doubt be satisfactorily ex plain
er I. Perhaps it was only a jest on Mr. Streat
tield's part rather 100 serious a one, he must
own. At any rate, whatever was the cause of
the iuli rrupt.oa to the dinner, which had just
happened, it w..- not important enough to re
'j'i'.re ev ry'--!v to fu-t arottud the table of the
i te:v-t. lie ak*-d it as \ favor to himself that
| no furl! < r ; might '>e taken of what had
.v-ried While M. I.angk v was speakiug
PtTIiLISIIEn EVERY THURSDAY AT TO WAN DA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. O'MEARA GOODRICH.
" RESAttnLgSS OF DENUNCIATION FRO* ANY QUARTER."
thus, he hastily wrote a few lines on a piece of
paper, and gave it to one of the servants.—
Note was directed to Mr. Streatfield ; the lines
contained only these words:—-"Two hours
hence 1 shall expect to see you alone in the
library."
The dinner proceeded ; the places occupied
by the female members of the Langley family,
and by the young lady who had attracted Mr.
Streatfield's notice in so extraordinary a man
ner, being left vacant. Every one endeavored
to follow Mr. Lnngley's advice, and go through
the business of the dinner as though nothing
had occurred ; but the attempt failed misera
bly. Long blank pauses occurred in the con
versation ; general topics were started, but
never pursued. It was more like an assembly
of. strangers than a meeting of friends ; peo
ple neither ate nor drunk, as they were ac
eumstoined to eat and drink ; they talked in
altered voices, and sat with unusual stillness,
even in the same positions. Relatives, friends,
and acquaintances, all alike perceived that
some great domestic catastrophe had happen
ed ; all foreboded that some serious, if not fa
tal explanation of Mr. Streatfield's conduct
would ensue ; and it was vain and hopeless—
a very mockery of self-possession, to attempt
to shake off the sinister and chilling influences
that recent events had left behind them, and
resume at will the thoughtlessness and hilarity
of ordinary life. Still, however. 31 r. Langley
persisted in doing the honors of the tabic, iu
proceeding doggedly through all the festive
ceremonies of the hour, until the ladies rose
and retired. Then, after looking at his watch,
he bckoned to one of his sons to take his
place, and quietly left the room. He oulv
stopped once as he crossed the hall, to ask
new s of his daughter from one of his servants.
The reply was that she had had a hysterical
fit, that the medical attendant of the family
had been sent for, and that since his arrival
she had become more coui|H>sed. When the
man had spoken, Mr. Laugly made no remark,
but proceeded at once to the library. He
locked the door behind him as soon as he had
entered the room. Mr Streatfield was already
waiting there ; he was seated at the table, cn-
Ueuvoriug to maintain au appearance of com
posure, by mechanically turning over the leaves
of the bocks before him. Mr. Langley drew
a chair near him, and in low, but very linn
tones, began the conversation thus :
" I had given you two hours, sir, to collect
yourself, to consider your position fully ; I
presume, therefore, that you are now prepared
to favor me with an explanation of your con
duct at mv table to-dnv."
" What explanation can I make ! what can
1 sav or ihiiik of this most terrible of fatali-
ties I" exclaimed Mr. Streatfield, speaking faint
ly and eonfusediy, aud -till not looking up.—
" There has been an uncxampl d error com
mitted, a fatal mistake, which 1 could never
have anticipated, aud over which I had no con
trol."
" Enough, sir, of the language of romance,"
interrupted Mr. Langley, coldly ; " 1 am neith
er of an age nor a disposition to appreciate it.
I come here to a.sk plain questions honestly,
ami I insist, as my right, on receiving aus v. as
in the same spirit. You, Mix Stivatfield. soiiaiit
an introduction to me, you professed your--If
attached to my daughter Jane, yonr proposals
were (I fear unhappily for 11*1 accepted, your
wedding-day was fixed, and now after all this,
when yon happen to observe my daughter's
tw in sister sitting opposite to you "
" Tier twin-sisti r !" exclaimed Mr. Streat
fi dd : and hi- trembling hand crumpled 'bo
leaves of the book, which he stiil held while
he spoke. " Why is it, intimate as i have
beou with your family, that 1 now know for
the lkr-1 tiui" that Miss Jane Langley has a
twin sister ?"
'• Do you descend, sir, to subterfngc. when I
a-k you fir an explanation ?" returned Mr
Lauglcv, angrily : "youmust have heard over
and over again, that my children, Jaue aud
Clara, were twins."
' Oa mv word and honor T declare that—"
"Spare me all appeals to yonr word an 1
honor, sir ; I am beginning to doubt them."
" 1 wiil not in.ike tlie unhappy situation in
which we arc ali placed. still worse, by an
swering your last words as I might at other
times fee! inclined to answer them," said Mr
Streatheld. assuming a caltutr demeanor than
he had hitherto displayed. " I tell you the
truth, when 1 tell you that before to day 1
never kuew that any of your children were
twins. Your daughter Jane, has frequently
sjiokcn to mc of her absent sister, Clara, but
never spoke of her as her twin-sister. LTitil
to-day, 1 have had no opportunity of discover
ing the truth, for uutil to-day 1 have never met
met Miss Clara Langley siuee I saw her in the
balcony of the house in St. James's -treet.—
The only one of yonr children who w as never
pre.-ent during my intercourse with your fami
ly in Loudon, w.is your daughter Clara, the
daughter whom I now know for tlx first time
as the young lady who really arrested my at
tention ou to t!ie leree, whose affec
tion- it was really my object to win in seeking
an introduction to you. To me, the resemblance
between the twin-sisters has beta a fatal re
semblance ; the long absence of one, a fatal
absence."
There was a momentary pause, :vs Mr. Streat
field sadly and calmly pronounced tire last
words. Mr. Lang ley appeared to in; nltsorlied
in thought. At icuglii he proceeded, spcakiug
to himself : —" It is strange —1 remember that
Clara left Lomlon ou tlie day of tire levee to
set out on a visit to her aunt, ami only return
ed here two days since, to le present at her
sister's marriage. Well, s.r," he cuutiuucd,
addressing Mr. Streatfield, "granting what
von say, granting that we all mentioned u:y
absent daughter to yon. as we are acrnstomed
to mention her among ourselves, simply as
• Clara,' you have still not excused your cou
, duct in my eyes. Remarkable as the n -cm
blauce is between the sisters—more remark ft
; blc even. 1 am willing to admit, than the re
semblance usually is between twins—there is
vet a difference, and which, slight and indes
cribable though it may be, is nevertheless uis
! cernablc to all their reiat:- t.s and to all their
I f.'icuds. How ii n tu.ii :: represent
yourself as so vividly impressed by your first
sight of my daughter Clara, did not discover
the error when you were introdnced to her sis
ter Jane, as the lady who had so much attract
ed vou ?"
•' Vou forget, sir," jejoined Mr. Streatfield,
" that 1 have never beheld the sisters together
until to-day. Though both were in the balco
ny when I first looked up At it, it was Miss
Clara Langley alone who attracted my atten
tion. Had I only received the smallest hint
that the absent sister of Miss Jane Langley
was her twin-sister, 1 would have seen her, at
any sacrifice, before making my proposals.—
For it is my duty to confess to you, Mr. Lang
lev (with the < andor which is your undoubted
due.) that when I was first introduced to your
daughter Jane, I felt an unaccountable impres
sion that she was the same as, and yet differ
ent from, the lady whom T had seen in the
balconv. Soon, however, the impression wore
off. Under the circumstances, could I regard
it as anything but a mere caprice, a lover's
wayward fancy ? 1 dismissed it from my mind
it ceased to affect mc, until to-day, when I first
discovered that it was a warning which I had
most unhappily disregarded ; that a terrible
error had been committed, for which no one of
a* was to blame, but which was fraught with
misery, uudeserved misery, to us all."
" These, Mr. Streatfield, are explanations
which may satisfy you," said Mr. Langley, in
a milder tone ; " but they cannot satisfy me,
they will not satisfy the world. Vou have re
pudiated in the most public and most abrupt
maimer, an engagement, in the fulfillment of
which the honor and the happiness of my fam
ily are concerned. Vou have given me reasons
fur your conduct, it is true, but will those rea
sons restore my daughter the tranquility which
she has lost, perhaps forever ? will they stop
the whisperings of calumny ? will they carry
conviction to those strangers to me, or enemies
of mine, whose pleasure it maybe to disbelieve
them ? Vou have placed both yourself and
me, sir, in a position of embarrassment ; nay,
a position of danger and disgrace, from which
the strongest reasons and best excuses cannot
extricate us."
" 1 entreat you to believe," replied Mr.
Streatlii-ld, "that I deplore from my heart the
error.-the fault if yon will, of which I have
beou unconsciously guilty. I implore your
pardon, b" r h fur what I said and did at your
table to-day : but I cannot do more —I cannot
aud dare not pronounce the marriage vows to
your daughter with my lips, when I kuow,
that neither my conscience nor my heart can
ratify them. The commonest justice, and the
commonest respect towards a young lady who
deserves both, and more than both, from every
one who approaches lor strengthen me to per
severe in tin- only course which it is consistent
with honor and integrity for me to take."
" You appear to forget," said Mr. Langley,
" that it is not merely your own honor, but
the honor of others, that is to be considered iu
tii course of conduct which yoa are now to
pursue."
" I have by no means forgotten what is due
to yon," continued Mr. Streatfield, "or what
responsibilities ! have incurred from the tia
tnri of niv intercourse with your family. Do
1 put too much tru.-t in your forbearance, if I
now assure you, candidly and unreservedly,
that 1 still place all my hopes of happiness in
the prospect of becoming connected by mar
riage with a daughter of yours, Miss Clara
Langley >" Here the speaker paused. His
position was becoming delicate and a danger
ous one ; but he made no effort to withdraw
froiu it. Almost bewildered by the pressing
aud perilous emergency of the momeut, har
assed by such a tumult of conflicting emotions
within him as he hail never known before, he
ri-ke.l the worst. with all the blindfold desper
. atiuu ui' iuv". Tiie augry liush was ri.-iug on
Mr. Langley's cheek ; it was evidently costing
him a > vi re stniggle to retain his assumed
self-possession ; but lie did not speak. After
an iuterval, Mr. ij treat Held proceeded thus :—•
" However unfortunately I may express my
self. 1 am sure you will do me the justice to be
lieve that I am now speaking from my heart
on a subject , to me) of the most vital im;>or
tance. l'iace yourself in my .-ituatiou ; con
sider all that has happened ; consider that
this may he, for audit 1 know to the contrary
the last opportunity f may have of pleading
my cause ; and then say whether it is JKSS hie
for me to conceal from you that I can only
look to your forbearance and sympathy for
permission to retrieve my error, to—to—Mr.
I.angley ! 1 cannot choose expressions at such
a luomeut as this. I can only tell you that
the feeling with which I regarded year daugh
ter Clara, when I first saw her, still remains
what it was. i cannot analyse it ; I cannot
reconcile Us apparent inconsistencies ani con
tradiction-; I cannot explain how, while I
may seem to you and to every one to have
varied and vacillated with insolent caprice, I
have really r uaiucd, iu my own heart and to
my own coiis-hem e, true to my fir-' sensations
and my convictions. I can only implore
yon not to con team me to a life of disanjoiot-
and tnisiry, by judging inc with hasty ir
ritation. Favor me, -o far at least, as to re
late the conversation which has passed between
us to vor.r two lan _diters. Ijet mc hear h >v
it affects each of them towards me. nie
know what they are. willing to think aud ready
to do under <ueu unparalleled circumstances as
have now o curred." I will wait your time
and their time : 1 will abide by your decision
and their decision, pronounced after the first
poigitatil di.-tressnail irritaUon of this days*
events have pa-sed over."
Siijl Mr. Lan_l' y remained silent ; the an
grv word was on'his tongtie ; the contemptnous
rejection of what lie reorder! for the moment
as a pro|Mi>ition equally ill timed and iusolent,
seemed bursting to his iijis : hut ouce more he
restrain-- .1 himself. lie rose from his >cat, and
walked slowly backwards and forwards, deep
in thought. Mr. rdreatfield was too much
overcome by his own agitation to plead his
cans" further bv another word. There was a
-hence in the r> ou: now", which lasted tor sonic
t inc.
\V< have -.: M ♦'mr Mr. Tmiigfev was a man
■f the \\-rk. il. as -tro: -ft attached to
his children ; but he had a little of the selfish
ness and much of of the reverence for wealth
of a man of the world. As he now endeavor
ed to determine mentally 011 his proper course
of action—to disentangle the whole case from
all its mysterious iutrieaeies—to view it, ex
traordinary as it was, iu its proper bearings,
his thoughts began gradually to assume what
is called "a practical turn.'' lie reflected
that he had another daughter, besides the twin
sisters, to provide for ; and that lie had two
sons to settle in life, lie was uot rich enough
to portion three daughters ; and he had not
interest enough to start his sons favorably in a
career of eminence. Mr. Streatfield, ou the
contrary, was a man of great wealth, and of
great. •' connexions'' among people in
Was such a son-in-law to be rejected, evcu af
ter all that had happened, without at least
I consulting his wife daughters first? He
, thought, not. Had not Mr. Streatfield, in
I truth, been the victim of a remarkable fatali
: ty, of an incredible accident, and were no al
i lowanccs, under such circumstances, to be made
' for him? He began to thiuk they were. Re
flecting thus, he determined at length to pro
j ceed with moderation and caution at all haz
ards ; and regained composure enough to cou
; tinue the conversation in a cold, but still jiolitc
' tone.
" I will commit myself, sir, to no agreemeut
I of promise whatever," he began, " nor will 1
i consider this interview in any respect as a con
elusive one, either ou your side or mine ; but
if 1 think, on consideration, that it is desirable
that our conversation should be repeated to
my wife and daughters, 1 will make them ac
quainted with it, and will let you know the
result. In the meantime, I think you will
! agree with me, that it is most fit that the next
communications between us should take place
by letter alone."
Mr. Streatfield was not slow in taking the
, hint conveyed by Mr. Langlcy's last words.—
After what had occurred, and until something
was definitively settled, he felt that the suffer
ing aud suspense which he was already eudur
ing would be increased tenfold if he remained
I longer in the same house with the twin sisters
i —the betrothed of one, the lover of the other.
Murmuring a few inaudible words of acquies
cence in the arrangement which had just been
proposed to him, lie left the room. The same
evening he quitted Tangier llall. The next
morning the remainder of the guests departed,
their curiosity to know all the particulars of
what had luipjiened remaining ungrutified.—-
Thev were simply informed that an extraordi
nary aud unexpected obstacle had arisen to de
lay the wedding ; that no blame attached to
any one in the matter ; and that as soon as
' everything had been finally determined, every
thing would be explained. Until then, it was
not considered necessary to enter in any way
into particulars. By the middle of the day
every visitor had left the house ; and a strange
and melancholy spectacle it presented when
they were all gone. Rooms were now silent,
j which the day before had been filled with ani
' mated groups, r.nd had echoed with merry
laughter. In one apartment, the fittings for
the series of " Tableaux" which had been pro
posed, remained half completed ; the dresses
that were to lmve been worn lay scattered on
the floor ; the carpenter who had come to
proceed with his work, gathered np his tools
tn ominous silence, and departed as qnickly a
he could. Here lay books, still open at the
last page read ; there was an nlbnm, with the
drawing of the day before unfinished, and the
co!or-l)ox unclosed by its side. On the desert
ed billiard table, the position of the " cues "
and balls showed traces of an interrupted came.
1-" overs were scattered on the rustic tallies in
the garden, half made into nosegays, and be
gianing to wither already. The very dcigs
wandered in a moody, unsettled way about the
house, missing the friendly hands that had fon
, filed and fed them f>r so many days past, and
whining impatiently in the deserted drawing
rooms. The social desolation of the scene
was miserably complete in nil its aspect?.
Immediately after the departure of his
' guests. Mr. Tangier had a long interview with
his wife. lie repented to her the conversation
which had taken place between Mr. Streatfield
and himself, and received from her in retnrn
such an account of the conduct of his daugh
ter, under the trial that had befallen her, as
1 filled him with eqnal astonishment and arimi
; ration. It was a new revelation to him of the
character of his own child.
'• As soon as the violent symptoms had sub
sided," said Mrs. Laugley, in answer to her
husband's first iuquiries—" as soon as the hys
terica! fit was subdued. -lane seemed suddenly
to assume a uew character —to become anoth
er jHTson. She begged that the doctor might
! be released from his attendance, and that she
might be left alone with me and her sister C'la
n. When every one else had quitted the
room, she continued to sit in the easy-chair,
where we bad at first placed her, covering her
face with her hands. She entreated us not to
sjieak to her for a short time, and except that
she -huudercd occasionally, sat quite .-i.il ami
-dent. When she at la-t looked up, wc were
shocked to see the deadly paleness of her face,
and the stra:.ge alteration that had come over
her expression ; but she spoke to cs .-o cohe
rently, so solemnly even, that we were amaz
,ed ; wc knew uot what to think or what to
do : itwiardly seemed to be our .fane w ho was
uuvv to us."
" What did she say ?" asked Mr. Largley,
' cage rly,
'• She said that the first feeling of her heart
; at that moment was gratitude on her owa ae
cuant. She thanked (hod that the terrible dis
i eovery had not beeu made too late, w hen her
• married life might have been a life of estrange
ment and misery. l"p to the moment when
Mr. Streatl : I had uttered that one fatal .ex
clamation. she had loved him, she told us, fond
ly and fervently : now, no expla .ation, no rx
peulanoe, (if either were tendered) no earthly
persuasion or c>m:uand, (in case Mr. Streat
i field should think himself bound, as a matter
of a'oiiemei!'. to hohl r.i-d i\.ga_-
! eoaM ever ind -.ee. uer to 1 vae his wife."
j M Mr. Stre,.lf."M will not ?e-t her rr-.;>lu
tkm," said Mr Laaghv, bilterlv "He dc-
VOL. XVI I. —NO. 22.
libcrately rejieated bis repudiation of his en
gagement in this room ; nay laore, he——"
" I have something; important to say to yon
from Jane on this point," interrupted Mrs.
Langk-y. " After she had spoken the first
few words which I hare already repeated to
you, she told us that she hud been thinking—
thinkiug more calmly, perhaps than one eoukl
i imagine—on all that had happened ;on what,
Mr. Streatfield had said ut the dinner-table :
on the moineotary glance of recognition which
she had seen f>ass between him and her sister
Clara, whose accidental absence, during the
whole period of Mr. Streatfield's intercourse
with us in London, she now remembered and
reminded me of. The cause of the fatal error,
and the manner in which it had occurred, seem
ed to be already known to her, as if by intui
tion We entreated her to refrain from speak -
' ing on the subject for the present, Imt she an
; svered that it was her duty to speak on it—
J her duty to propose something which would al
leviate the suspense and distress we were ail
; enduring on her account. X'u words can de
! scribe to you her fortitude, her noble eudu
! ranee."
j Mrs. Langley's voice faltered as she pro-
I nounced the last wo. ds. It was some minutes
j ere she became sufficiently composed to pro
, coed thus :
j "I am charged with a message to you from
Jane—T should say charged with lur entrea
j ties, tiiat yon will not suspend our intercourse
with Mr. Streatfield, or view Ids conduct in
any other than a merciful light—as conduct
| for which accident and circumstances are alone
to blame. After she had given me this rncs
| sage to you, she turned to Clara, who sat weep-
I ing by her side, completely overcome, and kiss
, ing her, said that they were to blame, if any
I one was to be blamed in the matter, for being
so much alike as to make all who saw them
apart doubt which was Clara and which was
Jane. She said this with a faint smile, and
an effort to spt ak playfully, which touch
ed us to the heart. Then, iu a tone and man
ner which I can never forget, she asked her
sister—charging her ou their mutual affection
and mutual confidence, to answer sincerely—if
, she had noticed Mr. Streatfield. on the day of
j tiie levee, arid ha l afterwards remembered him
at the dinner table, as he had noticed and re
| membered her. It was only after Jane hud
repeated tins appeal still more earnestly aud
; affectionately, that Clara summoned courage
i and composure enough to confess that she had
noticed Mr. Streatfield 0:1 the day of the le
vee, had thought of him afterwards during her
absence from London, and had recognised him
j at our table, os he had recognized her."'
Is it possible ! I own I had not antici
pated—not thought for one moment of that,"
said Mr. Lang ley.
1 " Perhaps," continued his wife, "it is best
i that you should see Jane now. and judge for
j yourself. For my parr, her noble resignation
• under tins great trial has so astonished and itn
; pressed me, that I only feel competent to ad
j vise as she advises, to act as she thinks fit. I
' begin to tnink that it is not we who arc to
guide hr, !ut she a lio is to guide us."'
Mr. Lang'ey lingered irresolute for a few
; minutes, then quitted the room, and proceeded
a'o:." to Jane Langley's apartment.
Vi hen he knocked at the door, it was open
ed by Clara. There was an expression, partly
of confusion, partly of sorrow, on her face ;
and when her father stopped as if to speak t<
j her, she merely j ointed into the room, and
hurried away without uttering a word.
Mr. Langley had been prepared by his wife
lor the change that lad taken place in his
daughter since the day before ; but he felt
i startled, almost overwhelmed, as he now look
ed on her. < >ne of the poor girl's most prom
inent personal attractions, from Ler earliest
years, had been the beauty of her complexion;
aid now the freshness and the bloom had en
tirely departed from her face ; it Seemed abso
lutely colorless, ller expression, too, appear
ed to Mr. Langley's eyes, to have undergone a
melancholy alteration ; to have lust its youth
fulness suddenly : to have assumed a strange
j character of firmness aud thoughtfulness, which
he had never observed in it before. She was
sitting by on open window, commanding a
lovely view of a wide, snnny landscape : a Bi
ble, which her mother had given her, lay open
on her knees—she was reading in it as her
father entered. For the first time in his life,
he paused, speechless, as he approached to
speak to one of his own children.
" I am afraid I look very ill," she said, hold
ing out her hand to him :'"but I am better
than 1 look : I shall be qnite well in a dav or
two. Have you heard my message, father ?—-
Hare you been told
My love, we will not speak of it vet: we
will wait a few days," said Mr. Langlev.
" Von have always been so kind to in -," she
continued, in less steady tones, "that I amsnrc
you will -tme go on. I have very little to
say. but that little must be said now, and tlicn
we need never recur to it again. Will von
consider all that has happened as something
forgotten ? You have heard already what it
is I entreat yon to do ; will yoa let him—Mr.
Streatfield"—fshe stopped, h-r voice failed for
a moment, but she recovered herself again al
most Immediately. " Will you let Mr. Streat
field remain here or recall him if he is gone,
and give him an opportunity of explaining him
self to my sister ? If poor Clara should re
fuse to see him for my sake, pray do mot listen
to her. lam sure tiiat is wnat ought to In
done ; 1 have been thinking of it very calmly,
and 1 f-'1 that it is right. And there is some
thing more I have to beg of von, father, ft
is, that while Mr. Streatfield is here TOO will
allow me to go rc-d stay with my aunt. Yon
know how fond she is of me. Her house is
not a day's journey from home. It is lh.<t fur
everybody ram h the best for me tiiat I
should not remain here at present : and—and
—dear father—l have always been joar SJKMI
ed clrild, and I know you will indulge rac still.
If von v. .5! do what 1 a-k, I dial! sjoa get
j ovJr the heavy trial. I shall be well again if
i am away at , .y aunt's—if "
She pan-c t:a s 1 putt.ng one trembling arm
i around her fa'ae.neck, fchl her face •$ l t j<
' b.\u- r Ii : s ate uiiuutcs Mr. Langiv -cull