H
LEN S
A ItA alt2ll2•Zlll2•Sta Itzioustaate%Mixt 4111) I?is(altatteltG
VOLUME X.
Singer's Sewing Machine,
DURING the last four years these machines
have been fully tested in all kinds of ma
terials that can be sewed, and have rendered
generalsatisfaction. Truly thousands of worth
less Sewing Machines have been brought before
the public, yet Singer's alone has merited and
obtained a good reputation for its perfection
and real worth. To a tailor or seamstress
one of these Machines will bring a yearly in
come of $750.
The undersigned having purchased of I. M.
Singer & Co. the sole and exclusive right to use
and to others to be used, the above nocd
Machines, in the following localities : The
State of Wisconsin, the northern part of Indi
ana, and Pennsylvania (with the exception of
the counties of Erie, Allegheny, Philadelphia.
and Northampton) and is now prepared to :cell
Machines as above mentioned.
All orders for the Machines will be punctual
ly attended to. In all cases where a Machine
is ordered, a good practical tailor and operator
will accompany the' same, to instruct the pur
chaser how to use it. A bill of sale will be for
warded with each Machine. • The price of the
Machine, with printed or personal instructions
is $125. For further information address
B. RANDALL,
Norristown l'a.,
11—Can
August 1
.
ii.ricir.i7s's7l7lTlT, 4. _BEE NE, '.
kl South East Corner of atotiltoo 0,41 tiev
oath Street, respectfully inform their friends
and the public that they' have just returned from
Now York and Philadelphia with a large stuck of
now and fulthintiable
Fall and Winter Goods,
which they purchased for CASH,. and which enables
them to sell lower then any other establishment of
Ihe kind in Allentown. They have :elected their
Goods with an eye to durability and fancy, and have
none but the latest styles in the market. • Their stock
of Uoods. among other articles, consists of Cloths of
all colors and prices, Cassimers. of French. English
and American manufactures Vestio,.?s, Silk Velvets,
Satins, Silks, Worsted and other descriptions, figured
and plain, Shirts and Shirt collars. Stocks, Cravats,
nautlkerchiefs, hose, Suspenders, besides 1 a great
many other :at-tick crowing in their line of business,
and all will he sold at the lowest prices. Their
stock of
READYMAD E CLOTHING
comprises el - cry thing in the clothing line, from an
over coat down to nn under-shirt, made up after the
latest and most fashionable styles. There stock be
ing so ektensive that none will leave it, unless fitted
from the -bottom to the top."
CUSTOMER WORK
will be done up as usual, and for their troll: they arc
willing to be held responsible, two of the firm being
practical tailors, and all the work is made up under
their own supervision.
Thankful for past favors, they trust that attcntion
to business, small profits and quick sales" will be
the menus of bringing new customers to their estab
lishment.
Oct. 1
BEcus Diu EXPRESS,
aBETWEEN Allentown, Bethlehem nod
ladelphin. Office in Allentown, at George
L. Ruhe'F, No. 30 Went Hamilton ntreet.
Oftieo in Phihulcli hin, No. 101 Race St
The proprietor, G. S. Becker respectfully announces
to the citizens and business men generally. that he
Las just started a dally Exprevs, as chore, yin. the
North Pennsylvania Rail Maid, for carrying Merchan.
dice, packages .te., of every kind, at, rates fully as
low if not lower, than any other Express, and all pack
nges will be carried with the greatest care, and deliv
ered with promptness.
Raving had four years' experience in the Express
business, Mr. B. fouls confident that he, will be able to
supply the wants of the public in a satiefaetorily man
ner.
All business for Allentown and vicinity will be
rwomptly transacted by George L. Rube, Agent.
"e s so tvo. go West Hamilton strn't.
N. B.—Goods pnreLpsed, and all orders punctually
attended to.'
Allentown, Jan. 2. —tf
Allentown Academy.
A N examination of classes will take place at this
II Institution on Thursday and:Friday, 20th and
21st inst. Parents and Haardians of pupils, and
friends generally are respectfully invited to attend.
After the usual moms fur the Christmas Holidays,
the School will resume the regular duties on January
2d, 1848.
Pupils-are received at any time, and are charged
from the date of entrance, according to the following
TERMS OF TUITION, PER TERM OF ELEVEN WEEKS.
Comtiton Eng Hilt Studies, $1 00 and $4 50
Inghar 500 " 550
"" " with Classical, 6 00
" and French, 7 50
8 00
2 00
Music, - -
Use of Piano for practice, -
Fuel for the Winter, -
I. N. GREGORY, Principal
—tf
Deoembir, 19
NOT' I C, MIL
TOTICE is hereby given that letters of Adminis
tration have been granted by the Register of
Lehigh County, to the undersigned, upon the Estate
of Solomon L. Kook, late of Hanover township in said
County, deceased. All persons indebted to said estate
.are requested, without delay, to make payment, and
In pardons having claims against the same, to pro
sent them for settlement, to the undersigned, residing
In said township, near the Borough of Allentown.
• ANDREW B. KECK, I Administrators,
THOMAS KECK,
peeember
PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY HAINES & DIEFENDERFER ONE DOLLAR AND FIFTY CENTS PER ANNUM.
Capital gtorti.
IDA CLIFFORD.
CIIAPTER I—THE BALL-ROOM.
Smiles of joy aro followed by tears,
Brightest hopes, by darkest fears.
A** * * *
As doth the sunshine follow the rain,
So doth plea:Miro follow polo.
" Who is that lady in the blue velvet boddicc,
in yonder group, Hal,?"
" Why, that is 'Squire Cliflbrd's daughter.—
Have you not had an introduction yet ?"
No, Hal ; but do give me one. She's as
handsome as a June rose."
" And as proud ns she is handsome !"
"Ah ! She is the very picture of meekness,
as she stands there, - arms folded, listening to
the conversation of that fair-faced gentleman.—
Do see how attentive she is ! I declare, Hal, I
wish I was the speaker ! • I wonder what the
subject may be."
" 0 ! some milk-and-water description of a
recent journey out of town, I presume ! I'm
nun! to see how the ladies will listen to such
nonsense."
" You would feel differently, no doubt, were
you the speaker ; ha! ha! ha! But do you
know the fellow ? Who is he ?"
Why, nobody but a young artist that is visit
ing here; but his peculiar accent have made
the ladies crazy."
" Perhaps now, he is a sensible fellow. At
any rate ho has drawn a crowd of listeners
around him, and let us go with the tide. But
remember the introduction to that blue boddice,
will you ? For, upon my word, 'I have never
seen such nonpareil beauty anywhere."
The crowd that had gathered so thickly
round the artist, at length began to disperse,
and, as Miss Clifford turned, she saw her father
" Ida, my dear," said he, " here is Mr. Mil- .
ton ; my daughter, sir."
Ida smiled daintly, and inquired if he was " a
stranger in the place ?"
" Yes," he replied ; " I have been here but
a few weeks."
" How do you like ?" said Ida.
"Well. I think the site of L— very plea•
sant. With the people I have, as yet, but
little acquaintance. Are you engaged for the
next quadrille ?"
" I am."
" And the cotillion, too ?"
" No, I believe not," said she, looking at a
card.
" May I have the favor of your hand for the
cotillion ?"
" Yes,.if you wish it."
"Thank you."
In a moment the sound of merry music called
to the dancers. and away they whirled on
" light fantastic toe," led by Miss Clifford
and the hanasome young artist. Mr. Milton
stood in the recess of a bay window, gazing in
tently upon her, as her slender figure turned
gracefully, in the mazy dance, to each change
of music.
QS
“ How beautiful !” thought he. " I wonder
who that partner of hers is. A good looking
couple, anyhow. I declare what a smile she
wears ! Now he is speaking to her. Some
compliment, I dare say. How she blushes !
wonder what he said. Confound it ! What
business has he to dance with her before I do ?
Well, I have engaged her for the next anyhow ;
and I'll see if I can't initiate myself in her
favor."
" Whose, Milton ?" said Hal, coming towards
him. "0, I see ; that Miss Clifford's, hey ?
Well, do it if you can ; but my word for it, you
will repent it, and wish you had never known
her. For ten chances to one, you don't lose
your heart."
"Really, you increase my interest for her
very much. J3ut possibly you do not rightly
understand her."
" Ali ! Milton,-I know her, but too well ! I
only—"
" Well, well, the quadrille is done, and ram
to be her partner in the next cotillion. So
adieu ! Don't you break the tenth command
ment when you see us hand•in•hand in the
dance," said he gayly, hastening towards Miss
Clifford, who was still leaning on the arm of the
young artist. •
" Miss Clifford," said he, approaching her,
I believe I have the honor of claiming you for
my partner in the cotillion." • -
" Please excuse me," said Ida, " for this
one ; I am wearied with that long quadrille,
and I wish for air. Here is my card for the
Spanish waltz, if you like."
" Thank you. May I accompany you to the
balcony ?"
" I have that honor," said Mr. Weston..
Milton bowed and turned away. " Confound
him !" again thought he.
After they were seated in the balcony, Mr
Weston said.
Miss Ida, may I inquire who that gentle.
man is that you released yourselefrom
-6
BY MAE DE RAY
nom
Allentown, Pa., January 23, 1856.
"He is a stranger. Puffier introduced him
as Mr. Milton. 1 never met him before to-
night. Do you know him ?"
"0 ! John Milton ? No, I never met him be
fore. But I have often heard of him.
" Is he famous ?"
" He has acquired sonic fame, I believe, in the
literary world."
" 0 ! an author, is he ?"
"•Yes. He is the author of that celebrated
poem, entitled, " The Sacrifice."
" I wonder if he wrote from experience."
I presume not.' Many writers have the
happy faculty of representing life-scenes, with
out experiencing them. Does he stop herC
labg 7"
" Yes ; I think father said lie was to spend
the season here."
" Is he a friend of your father's ?"
" No ; father has never known him before."
" After a pause, Mr. Weston said,
" Ida,'l leave town to-morrow. I'm going
far away."
Ida started, blushed, anil said,
" You going away ?"
" Yes," replied Weston.
" Where ?" asked Ida.
"To Europe. My uncle is very kind to me,
and knowing my intense desire to see the works
of beauty and art, which have beeti so highly
eat l'ed, in the Old Country, he has made ar
rangements for me to go and realize all, my
boyish dreams. Oh !" said, the artist, his eyes
glistening with delight, " I shall go and scale
the Alpine heights, visit the Colosseum at Re
gent Park, the ruins of the ancient cities,
Athens and Rome, bask in the mellow light of
Italy's sunset skies, and gaze with my own
'eyes upon the rich beauty of Italian landscapes.
" 0, Ida ! could you share the pleasure with
me," said he, with a sigh. " Leaving you is
all the regret I feel. I am afraid your father
will teach you to forget me when I am gone !".
"My father 1 " said Pa. " 7''
" lic can make you love some other one !"
" Never !" said Ida. " I never will be forced
to love any one."
" I'm glad of that. Ida, could you love me ?"
Ida blushed, but whispered, " Yes."
" I thank you for that one word, dear Ida,"
said Weston. " But I may be gone many long
years. Ida, will you ever love me, and love no
other ?"
Ida hesitated.
" If I have asked too much, dear Ida, forgive
me. But that one word filled me with such a
wild hope. I have long wishedi to tell you how
dear you are to me ; but circumstances of
which I may not now speak, have prevented
me. Since first I met you on the mountain's
brow, Ida, you have been the object of my sin
cerest affection. Could I feel that I have not
loved in vain, I should be happy. But if I have
spoken too freely, forgive ine. Lot me feel that
you will at least remember me when I am
gone !"
Ida's eyes filled with tears, and for a moment
she spoke not.
" Dearest ,Cha , rles," at length said she, " I
will ever love you."
" 0, Ida !" said he, " will you ever love me
better than any other one ?"
" Ida whispered, " I will."
Mr. Weston was so overcome, for a Moment,
he could not speak. He threw his nrms around
her neck and pressed the first fond kiss of affec
tion on her trembling lips. As they rose to
leave the balcony, he put a locket in her hand,
containing his miniature, and asked her to wear
it in memory of him.
A moment afterwards Mr. Clifford met them
and said,
" Ida, I have missed you. Arc you tired. of
pleasures, that you thus retire from it ?"
" No, father ; but I was wearied with the
quadrille, and wished fur air," said Ida,
blushing and concealing the locket.
" Well, well," said Mr. Clifford, glancing at
Charles Weston, " that is all right enough if
they have the right sort of company."
Ida blushed ; Mr. Weston pressed her hand,
whispered " farewell," and they parted.
" Come, come, Ida," said Mr. Clifford, " Mr.
Milton has just been inquiring for, you. Go,
now," said ho, as Mr. Milton came up and of.
fered his arm, "go and do your best; my Ida
must not be outdone to•night."
- " No, father," she replied, gayly, and hast
ened to join the merry waltzers, apparently the
gayest of the gay :. But her heart was sad, for
she had just parted from one dearer than aught
beside. Yet sho hoped they might soon meet
again.
Mr. Milton talked and smiled, but Ida heed
ed him not, for her thoughts were away. And
as ho led her to her seat he 'thought within
himself.
" I guess Hal was more than half right about
it ; she's proud, or something else ; I didn't
suit the beauty, anyhow, that time."
The next *morning . saw Charles Weston seat
ed in the cars, and soon ho was rapidly borne
away from her he so deeply loved. Yet she had
herself told him she loved him and would ever
love him, and he , was happy.
CHAPTER 11-CLOCDS
"Life ie a sea es fathomle.s,
An wide, as terrible, and yet sometimes
As calm and beautiful. n * * •
* * . 0 Anon dark clouds
Arise contending winds of fate go forth,
And 1101)3 oils weeping o'er thegeueral wreck."
Charles Weston was an only son. Bereft of
his parents in early life, he had been adopted
by an agdil uncle, and bore his name. lle had
ever indulge) him in his ardent love for the
beautiful in Nature and Art, consequently he
spent much of his time in travelling, and
sketching vari-scanes and landscapes. After
wards lie spent several years with a distill.
guished artist, acquiring much skill and an in
creased love for his profession. In one of his
travels he was attracted by the rural beauty of
L—, and concluded to stop a few days for
sketches. In one of his rambles for that pur
pose he overtook a mountain party. They
greeted him cordially and invited him to join
them. Be did so. It was then he first saw
Ida. Feeling much interest in her, and wishing
for an acquaintance, he prolonged his visit
several weeks and sought her society. Mr.
Clifford received him coldly, but Ida, who had
been pleased with• him from the first, would
have encouraged his attentions ; but she feared
Mr. Weston would observe her father's cold-
=
Ida was an only daughter. Her mother and
one little brother had died when she was a
child. She had one brother, George, living,
but he was in a far distant city, and many
years had elapsed since she had seen him. Her
father, a retired merchant, was her chief com
panion. She loved him very dearly, and
sought in every way to please him. In return
he gave her every indulgence ; but being a very
aristocratic man, he sternly forbade Ida's asso
ciation with any but those of their own rank.
Thia gave Ida an air of pride ; butoin her heart
she regarded all alike.
A few days following the evening above men
milieu, Air. Clifford Caine in one morning, say
ing he had invited Mr. Fontaine to dine, and to
become their guest for a few weeks.
Ida was sorry, but she smiled faintly and
said she would try to entertain him. Mr. Clif
ford had often told her of him, and spoke of
him in very flattering terms. Ida recollected
of seeing him when quite a child, but it had
been so many years since she regarded him
almost as a stranger. His father, a very :Iris
tocratic and wealthy merchant, was an old
friend of her father's. and they had often spoken
of ,confirming their friendship for each other in
the union of their children. With this view in
perspective, Mr. Fontaine having now finished
his collegiate course, Mr. Clifford had invited',
him to be his guest.
He came. At first Tda thought him very
pleasing, and enjoyed his company. But she
soon felt uneasy in his presence, and his flatter
ing words and meaning smile's so embarrassed
her that slfe often wished him away.
Three weeks passed away and yet lie linger
ed ; and Ida cautioned' by her father, was
obliged. to receive his attentions. One morning
they were preparing Cra a ride on horse hack.
Mr. Fontaine seemed much More attentive than
usual. Ida observed it, and wished she was
not going. But it was too late. Mr. Fontaine
touched the horses, and in a moment were out
of sight.
The beauty of the scenery, the flowers open
ing in the sunlight, the leaves glistening with
dew, the singing of birds, and the fresh morn
ing air, revived Ida's spirits, and she chatted
merrily and laughed in glee. Mr. Fontaine
was delighted and complimented her on her
flow of spirits ; and as they were returning;
after a long ride, he told her those few hours
that morning were " the happiest of his life."
Ida thanked him, but it chilled her spirits,
Mr she felt that she had been too gay. The
remainder of the ride she was very silent'; fur
she feared he might think she enjoyed the ride
even more than she did.
That evening, as Ida was sitting alone,
watching the stars, as ono by one, faintly
twinkling, they peeped through the deepening
veil of night, the door opened and Mr. Fontaine
entering, said,
" I have long been looking for you down the
garden•walk; but not finding you I have sought
you here."
Ida made no reply.
" I hope I don't intrude, Miss Clifford ?"
" I am sad to•night," said Ida, " and prefer
to bo alone."
" Pardon me," said Fontaine, "but I wish
to speak to you on a subject that, to me, is very
important."
Ida replied not.
" Miss Clifford," said he, '• the few weeks I
have spent-here have passed pleasantly and
rapidly'away. And the inexpressible pleasure
I have felt in your society has caused me to
cherish a deep affection for you never felt
before."
,Ida turned pale.
" I have often wished to manifest my regard .
for you, but owing to our comparatively short
acquaintance, I hate hesitated. But your late
appearance has given me a hope that I am
kindly regarded by you. Tell me, Miss Clif
ford, that I not deceived."
Ida was about to reply, but ho interrupted
her.
" Tell me that you will cherish an affection
for me, deep as my own. Tell me," said he,
attempting to take her hand, " that you will
love me,"
" Mr. 'Fontaine," said Ida, withdrawing her
hand, " you• are not deceived. I have, it is
true, kindly regarded you as my father's friend.
As such I may ever regard you, but no more.
I can never love you !"
Mr. Fontaine's face colored ; but, recovering
himself a little, ho replied, •
" Miss Clifford, I little expected this. Con-
sider the. friendship of our parents, and their
united wish for our union. Do not spealc so
hastily. Our acquaintance has been short.—
Will you not recall those words, Mks Clifford,
and tell me I may yet hope for a return of af•
fectiun ?"
" Never !" said Ida, firmly.
Mr. Fontaine bit his lip. They passed some
minutes in silence, and then Mr. Fontaine,
rising, proudly, coldly bade her good-evening,
and left .the room. After a few minutes' walk
in the garden, he went in and gently tapped on
Mr. Cliffuta's door. Mr. Clifford bade him
enter ; and not until a late hour did ho steal
softly to his own room ; not, however, to sleep,
for ho was too muck dis-spirited.
At an early hour the next morning, Mr. Clif
ford sent for Tda in the drawing-room. As she
entered he rose and pointed to a scat beside him,
saying,
" Ida,-why have you treated Mr. Fontaine so
coldly ? He is a very fine young man, of high
birth, wealthy and talented, and in every way
just such.an ono as I could desire fur your com
panion. Beside, he is the son of my old friend
whom I have ever cherished as a brother, and
your union with him I have ever looked for
ward to from your infancy. Ile feels your cold
repulsion sensibly, and I am fearful he may not
overlook it. Last night he came to my room
and wished me to talk with you. Ile also said,
unless you had changed your mind, he did not
wish to see you again, and should leave in the
first train this morning. Now, Ida, it is my
wish that you receive his attentions. it will
be a great disappointment to us all. You had
better send him word by me that you have not
sufficiently considered the subject, but that you
will give him an answer in a week. He is a
fine fellow, and you will soon love him well
enough ; yon don't know what love is yet !
Come, my darling, shall I go and tell him ?
" Father," at length said Ida, " I never can
love him —tny affections are given to another !"
" Another !" exclaimed Mr. Clifford ; " who
could you.dare to love without my approval ?"
Ida hesitated.
" Tell nie, Ida," said hot " for it shall not
be ; unless, indeed, it be -one in every way
worthy of you."
" Ile is," said Ida with much earnestness.
" He is —"
" But who is he ?" interpsed her f,tthei
Ida, blu , :hing, replied,
" Charles* Weston."
" Charleg IWeston !" exclaimed Mr. Clifford.
his face crimson with anger. But in a moment
he calmly replied, " Ida, you haye been sadly
deluded ! 'Unfortunate child! I have done
wrong to allow you to associate with him. lle
is poor, and tvc know not his parentage.—
Think you, Ida, I will ever consent to your
union with a poor, nameless orphan ? Never.
Yoe may give up that foolish whim ; it never
will be realized. Though I may not force you
to unite with one you foolishly think you do
not love, I can, and will, forbid your union with
any one ngniiist my will ! So now go to your
room, child and compose yourself," said he and
left the apartment.
Ida, trembling like an aspen-leaf, hastened to
her chamber, end, throwing herself upon a
lounge, wept bitterly.
't 0, what sorrow has befallen me !" thought
she. " Dear, dear Charles. where are you ?
'O, if I could only speak
,and tell you all this!
Alas ! thousands of miles stretch .between us,
and many, ninny long, weary years may pass
away ere you again return." And then she
thought of sickness and death. "Forget me !
he never will !" thought sho. "if hu only
writes when he arrives there I can writo to him
and tell all. Alas ! I know not what to do !"
• She heard the gate shut, and looking from
her window she saw her father and Fontaine.
arm in arm, walking towards the depot. Re
joicing inwardly, she drew her locket froM her
bosom and pressed it to her lips. "Forbid me
he cannot, he cannot be so 'cruel !"and again
bursting into tears she wept long and bitterly.
CIIAPTER.
" There wore cheerful smiles In that housohold roam
Whore wo hoard tho' first sad song,
For the sunshine banished the wintry gloom
That had shadowod the hearth so long.'
Five years passed away, but not without
leaving their impress on Ida. She had heard
nothing from Charles since first ho went away,
ram= 17.
and she felt that her worst fears were realized.
She had no hope ever to see him again. She
was now the fair and joyous creature she once
was. 0, no ! Anxiety and sorrow hid stolen
the roses from her cheek and the light from her
eye. Her father, somewhat alarmed at her al-
tered appearance, took her to every party of
pleasure, and often invited guests to his own
house. Ida always wore the same sad smile,
and though she received the guests with cheer
fulness, she often 'wished she could be alone,
and would frequently retire to her own room
and sit there for hours.
One day she was feeling more sad than usual.
Site was alone and freely indulged her grief.—
She had hardly dried her tears when Mr. Clif
ford entered hastily, saying.
" Ida dear, hero's a letter from our George.
Good news, too. Hear now. He says he has
just returned from his wedding•tour to Europe.
and shall soon be 116 e to introduce to us his
bride and make us a visit. Ile also says that
a young gentleman. whom ho formed an ac
quaintance with in Florence, accompanied him
in his travels, and has returned with him, and
.he will bring him here to be our guest till ho
returns. Ile says he's the finest fellow he ever
met with, and ho wishes to show him his pret
ty sister. Ila! ha!"
" What is his name ?" asked Ida, smiling
faintly.
" Charles Carlisle. A respectable name, at
any rate. Now, Ida, cheer up, and receive
your brother and his bride with your sweetest
smiles."
" Yes, father," said Tda.
The next Tuesday Mr. CHM rd was unex
pectedly called to a neighboring town on urgent
business. He went, nod Ida was left alone.—
She felt happier than she had fur many a long
year, and yet she knew not why. She drew
her locket from her bosom, and for the first
Hine since she placed it there, did she gaze
upon the loved face within, without shedding
tears. She even hummed the notes of an old
song. as she glided round the rooms to see if all
was in readi ness for her brother. She wonder
ed at her own happiness, but smiled on ! Ia
the afternoon she was sitting alone by the par
lor window, when she heard the rumbling of a
coach. Glancing down the street, she saw one
approaching the house. She went to the door
to see if it stopped. It did so. She ran down
the garden-walk and soon was clasped in the
arms of her long absent brother!
He introduced his young bride, and then, turn!
ing to Ida, said.
" I have brought another visitor."
The gentleman who had remained in the coach
now got out. Ids turned, and with a scream
of joy sprang towards him.
Charles Weston, for he it was, caught her
and bore her. almogt fainting, into the house.
As soon as she had recovered, Charles, who had
been watching her pale countenance with much
emotion, said.
Ida, how is this ? I did not expect such a
warm reception !"
" Have you indeed, then; forgotten the past?"
said Ida, with a look of mournful surprise.
Not I ! 0, no, indeed ! Never !" . said
Charles. "But why did you not write me?"
" Write you !" said Ida ; " I knew not where
you were. But I have often wished to hear
from you.,,
And have you never received any letters
from me ?" said Charles.
" Never !" said Ida.
" 'Tis strange !" said he, turning to George ;
I wrote, two or three times. several letters in
succession. "So then," said ho, turning to
Ida and kissing her pale cheek. " that is what
has caused pa,pur suffering. Probably the let
ters were nilltrarried. „I feared it had proved as
I told you the evening before I left."
No indeed !" said Ida. " Fontaine did at
tempt to gain my affections, and father would
have been pleased to have, had me receive his
attentions, but Lfirmly refused."
0 ! my dearest Ida, had I known this !
Supposing you had forgotten me, or, at least,
had ceased to regard me. I continued my trav
els much longer than I intended. I shoal
have returned at least two years no. Last
autumn I chanced to meet with your brother in
Florence. I made inquiries for you, and after
I felt sufficiently
. acquainted, and had courage,
I told hint all. He kindly sympathized with
Me, and invited me to return with him. I
came : but, Ida, with What feelings of anxiety
you may never know !"
But• why did you change' your name,
Charles I" said Ida..
'• I had become so much changed." said
Charles, " I thought you, or your father, at
lent, would not recognize me. I feared -your
father would not welcome me as Charles Wes
ton. so I took my own father's name. Carlisle:
and thought to come a stranger. But where is
your father, Ida ?"
" Ile has gone to S—," replied Ida. " lie
will return to-night; but, alas, I feat ho will
revgnize you !"
Why fear 7" asked hn- brother, who had
just come in from the garden.
Ida then told them all that had passed, and
her fitther's words forbidding their union.
" Leave it all to me. I'll arrange matters
with father," said George. " I guess when he
hears that Charles Weston is the son of Wit
ham Carlisle. Eqptire. of T—, and sole heir
to an estate of fifty thousand, his objecCona
will diminish somewhat."
Tho following Now Year's Eve Tda mat the
blooming and happy bride of Charles Weston.
and received the father's warm and hearty
blessing.
•• And now," said Mr. Clifford, after all was
over, •, since you have waited so longand Pa'
tiontly, Ida dear, you shall havo the pleasure of
readily , . Charles' intercepted letters."
INhy, where did you get them, limiter I"
asked Ida.
" Why, I took them from tho office as they
came," said Mr. Clifford. " You will flndAttena
all in the private drawer of my secretary."
• Ida started to get them, but Charles ran !kat
saying " ho feared they might not he appropri.
ate for the present occasion," and locked them•
in his own scritoire.
0