VOLUME X.
MABEL DACRE,
OR, THE TRIAL OF FAITH.
CIIAPTEP. I
To him who in the love of Nature bolls communion
With her visible forms she :peeks n v:n•i o us langonge.
131trANT'n TILINATOPSIS.
RAUELT does the sun shine upon a lovelier
spot than the small, secluded town of Riverdale.
Shut in between high hills, that served to screen
It also from the bleak north winds, it seemed
to embrace within its narrow limits every ele
ment of beauty ; and though from its retired
situation it nfflrtled no business facilities, and
therefore Contained little wealth and no style,
yea to those who sought the beautiful in Nature,
or for whom solitude had charms, it was a lit
tle paradise.
And so thought Mabel Dacre, as she sat with
her hands clasped over a book o:at lay half open
in her lap, and her eyes gazing earnestly and
with rapt attention on the distant landscape.
It was sunset, and far off in the clear horizon
floated the- golden clouds curtaining the day
' god's couch. A crimson light. sefiened by that
exquisite misty veil -in which Nature is so fond
of adorning herself, rested like a glory upon
the tops of the hills, and threw into deep shadow
the quiet valley at their feet ; while upon the
:river which wound elowly along, reluctant as
it would seem to leave a place so lovely, a few
bright gleams yet lingered. " flow beautiful,"
murmured Mabel to herself, as her delighted
gaze took in at once the scene that we have
vainly attempted to describe ; " how can any
one think the world so dark and dreary ?"
" I will tell you, my Mabel," said a low voice
at her side, as blushing, vet smiling, Mabel
turned and met the fond gaze of Walter Lee,
who had advanced unperceived, so absorbed
had she previously been. Now, however, she
willingly lenttan ear to her lover's voice. " I
will tell you ; it is because so few arc in unison
with the loveliness, the repose, the purity of
Nature, that they find in her no beauty ; the
rain toils of ambition, the grasping pursuit of
wealth, the wearying chase far pleasure, unfit
men for loving that which is simple, pure and
universal. You, dearest, are a true child of
Nature, and you feel almost, a child's love for
4 mother, towards the beauty around you.
" My sweet one," ho continued, as with de
lighted eyes he gazed upon the lovely face up
lifted to him in all the unconsciousness and
confiding love of childhood, "my beautiful
Mabel, will you laugh at my fancies if I say
that I find in Nature the original of even all
your charms : front the violet you stole the
• deep-blue of those dear eyes, and from whence
learned your hair its graceful waving, save
from the tendrils of the vine : so confess now.
. fair pilferer, ere I bring for ward other charges."
And with these words he took the book front
her hands ; it was a volume of Spenser's Fairy
Queen. Mabel laughingly reproached hint for
stealing so quietly upon her.
•' But where have you been, Walter, this'.
long, Tong day ; was so lonely, I had no one !!
to read to me, so I soon tired of my needle-
work, and in very weariness I wandered off to ;
see the sun set."
"nave you, indeed, missed me, Mabel, dar
ling ; bless you for those words to me, too, it
• was a weary day, in the close, dark city, but
duty called me there, and I have brought let
ters to the rector from London."
•' Letters to my father! and from London,"
exelatned the surprised girl : who can he have
in the great city to write to him : I have ofteit
heard him say he kneW no one in London.
But hark ! I hear the sunset-bell, and my father
will be waiting for me for our evening service."
And so saying, With one last look at the distant
landscape; Aiabel put her arm fondly in Wal
ter's, and with step as light and graceful as the
mountain deer's, turned towards thc___
roofetLcaLtagc....43P—tti Rector of Riverdale.
— "Mill you not come in, Walter," said Mabel,
in soft, persuasive accents.
"Not to-night," he replied ; " I have been
away all day, and there are numerous duties
for 1130 to fulfill crc to-morrow's round commen
ces. Good-night, sweet hive," he fondly tnur,
mured, as Mabel entered the house.
She advanced hurriedly to the rector's study,
where she found him seated in his accustomed
armchair by the window, but she was struck
at once with the look of anxiety and sorrow so
unusual to his placid and venerable face; an
open letter lay in his lap, but his eyes were
closed, and his lips moved as if in prayer.
. " Father, dearest father, what has happened ;
why do you look so, sad," exclaimed Mabel, as
she knelt at his side. ,
" Is it you, my child," said the old man,
softly stroking her silken hair—then a sigh so
• deep escaped him that Mabel was still more
terrified. " Be calm, my love, my little lamb,'
he murmered gently, and with accents choked
and broken, " listen calmly, and I will tell you
all. You know, Mabel dear, that I am not
your own father, but you know not, nor did I,
until to-day, that your own father is living ;
that ho is a nobleman of high rank, and haying
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been under our new sovereign, King James .
restored to his estates, he now claims his
daughter, and desires me to accompany you at
once to London. or at least to York, where lie
will meet you." ,
Mabers check grew paler and paler, as she
took in the full meaning Of these to her painful
words ; her strength forsook her, and she sunk
upon the floor at his feet—
" My. father, my own true, loving natter,
cannot leave you, and Walter, oh ! where can I
hide from this cold, stern man, who has left me
so long without a word, and now expects me to
break, in a moment, the ties that constant in
tercourse for fifteen years have funned ; no I
will not obey this proud dictate. Say I shall
not go, dear, dear fatlier, said the weeping
gill, throwing herself on his neck.
" Hush ! hush ! my daughter ; remember
who controls our destinies ; think who it is that
orders all the events of life. He has said,
• Children, obey your parents," Honor thy
father• and thy mother,' and shall I, one of his
ministers, counsel you to disobey him. No,
my precious child. dear as you are to my heart ;
thought the light of this world will have gone
out fur me When I no longer see my Mabel's
face, or hear her soft, sweet tones, vet I. would
have you go at once, my child ; and go deter
mined, so far as you can under God, to please
your father—render to hint the obedience that
is due from a child to a parent. In one thing,
however, you will be tired, your father is a Ro
man Catholic ; in your religious faith be firm
and steadfast ; let no persuasions induce you to
give up• the simple faith of our Protestnnt
church ; be strong, be prudent, and be gentle
in all your intercourse with him, aild perhaps
the daughter may.yet lead her father back to
the pure faith of his ancestors, though," mur
mured he to himself," a king's favor is a tempt.
big bait."
•' But Walter," tremblingly d.tered the
weeping girl, who had hardly understood the
rector's words, so filled was her heart with that
dear image. " Walter ! must I leave him- I
was so soon to be all his ; can I not write and
tell my father so, and then perhaps—he might
—I am sure if he only knew Walter"— she
blushed and hesitated, and then stooped, wait
ing in tearful sm: - pense to hear what would be
said by him .hose word for fiticon years had
been her law.
" Mabel, my darling child, it may rot be ;
you must not even dream of such a step.—
Think you the noblq, Earl of Arlington would
suffer his daughter to wed a poor curate ? No,
my precious child, you mast give Up Walter
forget hint—think only of your duly to your
father, or rather, your duty to your Cod."
Ile said no more, for Mabel, upon whose lor
in,g heart these words fell like the sentence of!
death, sunk fainting upon the floor. No words
escaped from those pale lips, end not even a
sigh relieved the bursting heart.
" Poor stricken lamb !"aid the kind old
man, as he gently raised the lifeless form, " had
I but known thy future destiny this stiff:Ting
at least thou shouldst have been spared—little
did I dream when, fifteen years ago, thou vcrt
brought, a little child beautiful as the angels,
to niy lonely home, that thou Nvast one day to
tread the halls of royalty." Ile laid her gently
on the couch, and hastily summoning what help
ho could command, watelTd fondly and anx
iously the return of consciousness.
And now let us review briefly the circum
stances that have so strangely formed the lot of,
our young heroine.
About eighteen years previous to the time, at
which our story commences, Robert, Earl of;
Arlington, had married a young and beautiful
girl, whom, though of rather humble origin, he "
loved as passionately as a nature selfish as his
could love ; she was frail and delicate, and dieLL
soon after the-tart; first O:Pd, a daugli
fer, to whom the sorrowing husband gave her ,
name—Mabel. His disappointment at not hav
ing a son embittered his feelings for the poor;
motherless babe, and two years after having,
in consequence of his being concerned in,a re
hellion against the reigning monarch, been com
pelted to leave his country and to endure the con
fiscation
of his estates ; he determined to place
his child in the keeping of some one whom he
could trust, and who would educate her care
fully ; thinking that should he ever regain his
rank, she could easily acquire all the necessary
accomplishments. He at once• recalled the
Rector of Riverdale, of whose learning and vir
tue he had often heard his young wife speak in
terms of eloquent praise, as the very person to
whom with the most perfect confidence he could
entrust his child.. Descended from high and I
even noble ancestors, and educated at Oxford,
the rector was eminently fitted for the develop.
ment and 'guidance of his daughter's mind ;
while for her physical education, the charming
and healthy situation — of Riverdale afforded ev
ery facility. Hastily making his Preparations,
therefore, and under cover of an assumed name,
ho sent his child to the old man, with a letter
stating only that, being obliged to, fly from
England, he wished her to be brought up in ig
norance of his ninny or station; and he.modo at
Allentown, Pa., February 6, 1856.
the same time ample provision for her wants as
far as money could supply them.
Years passed, and no tiding came of the un
known father ; and gradually the conviction
forced itself upon the rector's mind that he
must be dead ; an opinion which fifteen •years
of utter silence had tended to confirm, and the
kind old man had learned to love the gentle
'ldable as his own child ; all others considered
her as his niece, for as such he was to repre
sent her, and she was accordingly called Mabel
Dacro. But after the death of Charles, through
the influence of some friends, the long banished
man was recalled, and on his return having pub
licly renounced his allegiance to the Established
Church and embraced Romanism, his estates
and titles were restored to him, and he was
high in favor with the new monarch James H.
whose .strong partiality for papists was well.
known. Ile had
_obtained occasionally some
information respecting his child, and had even
made a secret visit to the town, sinco his re
turn, to satisfy his prcud heart as to his
daughter's fitness to share in his recovered
greotheA— but even his haughty spirit was
charmed with the exquisite beauty and grace
of 'Mabel, as she, so unconscious that her father
even brut, passed before him. Re immediate
ly made arrangemehts to receive her, and then
dispatched the letter which had thrown the
little household at Riverdale into such sorrow
and dismay.
CHAPTEit II
And tliere were sudden partings. suet) as press
The Hie frum out young heart , , and choking sighs
Whielt nifer might be repeated, who could guess
liesw more siwula meet the,e mutual c; cc ?
CHILDE E.11:01.1).
Walter Lee was the youngest son of a baro
net, who, during the late struggle, had lost both
life and property in defense of his sovereign.—
The oldest sou died after his father, having
been severely wounded at the battle of Edgehill.
Walter had been intended for the church, and
his education carried on with that end in view ;
the sad fate of his father and only brother had
contributed to strengthen his youthful inclina
tion-to the ministry ; and after collecting what
remained of his father's property he completed
his studies, and having heard that the curacy
at Riverdale, near which town his father had
at one time resided, was vacant, he applied im
mediately to the rector fur it, and had the gOod
tbrtune to be successful.
The worthy man was at once prepossessed in
favor of the young scholar. whose acquirements
were much above the usual standard, and
whose clear, open brow and brilliant eyes
scented to indicate a moan of no ordinary. char
acter. And in truth his was a nature such as
we seldom meet with in this every-day world
full of devotion to his cause, and zealous for his
Master's glory, his efforts to do good were un
tiring. His was a trul7noble heart—sb strong
and loyal, so open and sincere : full of all gen.
emus thoughts and high aspirations, and trith ,
al, as tender andloring as a woman's ; with a
soul that shrank in abhorrence front meanness,
deceit, or tho licentiousness so common to the
times, he yet felt and ever showed the kindest
•
pity and compassion fur the simmer.
Six years hail passed since he came to River
dale and Mr. Dacre loved hint as a son, for
such he had long seemed to him, while Walter
felt'for his venerable pastor the deepest love and
reverence.
And Mabel—how shall we describe her, the
fair and gentle being, who from the winning
simplicity and grace of childhood, had passed al
most unconsciously into that loveliest period of
womanhood, when as yet the heart .has lost
none of its early freshness, the sweet dew 'of
life's morning, and its pure affections have only
expanded into fuller beauty ; its over:in-4th
cal}-exlta.l-a-Fittfier perfume ; beautiful with
out vanity, intelligent yet simple 'and child
like ; loving, gentle and timid, yet at the same
time high-souled, generous and full of enthu
siastit---:ntch was Mabel Deere at sevent.Cen.—
Could it be otherwise than that those two, so
fitted for each other, such twin-souls as it were,
should love? Silently, at first, a pure aflection
sprang up in their youthful hearts ; it grew
with their growth and strenghtencd with their
strength ; each felt, long before any promise
had passed between them, that they were no
longer free, and when in low and trembling
tones Walter drew from his beloved her plight- •
ed troth, they both felt that no time could alter,
no circumstances change their fervent, undying
loge. And it was this love, the growth of
years,.that Mabel was now so suddenly called
upon to resign ; she had not at first, in her
artless simplicity, even imagined this as the re
sult of her father's letter ; it was the thought
of parting for a time with him she so passion
ately loved, that had caused the first sorrow.
Into her pure and simple mind i t did not enter
that her father would forbid her union with
Walter, that ho could break ties so solemnly
contracted, or sever hearts so closely united
but as her ear took in the last fearful sentences
of the rector, light and almost life forsook her,
brain reeled, and hor heart became like ice.—
lt well that consciousness failed, and !.ht,
a temporary oblivion deadened the first keen
pang ; but oh, that sad, dreary awakening to
sorrow ; that half-shrinking, trembling dread
with which we strive to recall the terrible event
that has changed life, into a gloomy solitude
and hushed up within us the very sound of joy.
Long did Mabel strive to keep back the return
of reason, to dream on in blissful ignorance,
but it would come, " You mast give , up Waller
you must strive to forgcl him." These
words rang for ever in the dark chambers of
her now desolate heart ; she knew it must be so,
she felt that even Walter would bid her go, and
as her opening eyes caught a viqw of her dear
old father (for such he ever seemed to her) gaz
ing so sadly upon her, she sprang from the
bed and feebly sunk at his feet ; then her
hiding her face in his lap, she wept such tears
us she could never shed again ; the bitterness;
of death was past, her duty was before her, and ,
in that sad hour the old man's prayers were
answered ; strength from above inspired her
drooping heart, and though in those soft eyes ,
the light of joy hid faded, and no gleam of
brightness played around the mouth that once
dimpled with the innocent mirth of an uncloud
ed girlhood, yet Mr. Dacre felt, as he kissed
her pure, calm brow, and gazed almost rever
ently into the clear depths of those spiritual
eyes, that a power mightier than the spell of
earthly love dwelt in that frail form ; and his
voice was almost exultant as with trembling
hand ho implored the blessing of God the Path-
er, the Son and the Spirit upOn her youthful'
head.
That evening, long after the sun had set be
hind the hills, in the same lovely spot where
Mabel was wont to watch his parting glories,
two youthful forms sat with clasped hands and
pale, tearful faces. The moon rose in all her
unclouded beauty, pouring a flood of silvery ra
diance over the scene ; fur a moment, the ex
quisite beauty of Nature sent its wonted light
to MabsVs face : then, with a faint cry of ago
ny,.she exclaimed—
“it is the last time, Walter—dear ♦ ,• dear
Walter! I shall never again gaze upon this
beauty with thee. 0, God, who makest the
world so lovely, can it be that Thou rcquir
est of me this sacrifice!”
There was no sound for many minutes; but
Walter's head was bowed as if in prayer, and
his strong frame shook like a reed.
" God knoweth best, my own beloved," at
length he murmured. "It may be that for me
this trial was sent, to teach me the herd lesson
—' Little children, keep yourselves from idols.'
I knew it not, but now I feel that your image
reigned in the heart I had offered to my God,
and that earth had more share in my thoughts
than Heaven.
" But, oh ! to part from yoktny Mabel—to
give you up to others, my treasure, my love,
my life! Oh I cannot submit—my heart is
crushed under this bitter trial ! Alas ! at times
I have np trust, no hope, no faith !"
Say not so, my own, my noble Walter ;
give up all else, but cling to .your faith ; for
sake not our only strength ; think, in this ter
rible parting, how tenfold would be our an
guish did we not both look forward to that world
where there is no more parting, 4 ul where
God shall wipe all tears from all eyes.",
" But, 0, my beautiful Mabel, sometimes a
strange shuddering fear comes over me, that in
that gay and gorgeous world where your future
steps will wander, you will be so admired,
courted, and caressed, that you will cease to
yearn for the simple houie of your girlhood,
cease to love—"
. " Nay, Walter, speak not those dreadful
words Say not you doubt the faith, the con.
stoney of years : oh ! do not let us add this
,-41-rop t44-14611.11 - eirapn
drink. Ah ! if I thought you could doubt me,
I should have lost the only happiness that yet
remains for mo—the thought:of your full and
perfect trust in my love. Do not let us doubt
each other for one moment, Walter dearest ; it
would be to break the only tie yet left between
us, our mutual trust."
Forgive me, sweet Mabel, my beloved,
once my plighted Wife—nay, let me not speak
that word ! Ah ! Mad, Mabel, what have I
left to live for ?" •
" God, and thine own soul, beloved : let mo
support and strengthen thee in this our great
est trial ; for, from thy example; how often
have I gathered fortitude and patience. And
remember, Walter dearest, that just as full, as
perfect, as entire and devoted as your lam so
may be your faith in me. I ask you, as my
last request, to feel this always, though it may
sometimes seem hard, though years of silence
may pass, for I know you can never, never for
get mo !"
" I do=l will trust you always, my beloved.
I ask from you no promise, but, before Heaven !
I solemnly pronunco myself yours ; and should
God in his wisdoin see fit to forbid our ever
again meeting, my heart shall still cherish your
image only, and go widowed to its grave."
Night had already filled the firmament with
its countless stars, ere the young lovers, for the
last time, slowly and sadly wended their say
to the happy home of Mabel's childhood and
youth.
Ah ! who can tell the bitterness of thatpart
ing ; the choking thoughts that could not be
uttered, the throbbing hearts whose chords had
been so rudely severed ; earth had fir them no
sterner lesson, the light of life is faded—well
will it be if itt the darkness stars arise, and
the night is holy."
. CHAPTER 111.
" Your holm within tho city
Is richly furnished with pinto and gold,
Basins and ewers, td lave your dainty hands,
Your hangings all of Tyrian tapestry."
TAMING OF THE SIMMS'
A year had passed since the events narrated
in our last chapter, and how had the time sped
with Mabel. Received with a proud and de
lighted affection by her newly-found parent, and
welcomed with almost a mother's kindness by
his titled and wealthy bride, she could not feel
otherwise than grateful, and, at tithes, happy :
but as increased intimacy revealed more and
more to her of the characters of those whom,
under God, she was most bound to obey and
honor, Mabel's heart sunk, and her thoughts
flew back to the simple piety and humble faith
of her early teacher and guardian. The world
liness, the cold selfishness, the grasping ambi
tion, and slavish cringing to superior rank that
she saw in all around her, was to the high
souled and enthusiastic girl deserving of the
most profound contempt and pity. She saw the
father whom she so longed to honor and respect,
fawning and bending before a monarch whom
he hoped still further to propitiate, and at times
ho would talk to Mabel about her own ad
vancetnent, until her whole frame trembled
with a nameless fear. He had lately begun to
speak more sternly with regard to her neglect
of the ceremonies of the Romish Church, not
dreaming that this neglect arose from a de
termined opposition. It did not once occur to
him—so little had his own religious belief to do
with conviction—that, in the mind of a young!
and beautiful girl, there could be a settled and
resolute preference for any particular chtwch.
Mabel had, indeed, never joined in any of the
rites of her father's church, but this ho had at
tributed to thoughtlessness and indiTerence,
little dreaming that, in her own solitary cham
ber, she enjoyed the purest and truest commu
nion with her Maker, and that not the sternest
mandate he could utter, would tempt her to ab
jure her Protestant faith.
But the trial was yet to come,
For some months after her arrivai At the
castle, Mabel had continued to receive con
stantly letters from Walter and Mr. Dacre ;
but she was, not long to enjoy this gratification.
Mabel, my daughter," said Lord Arlington
one day, as he saw with a froWn the blush and
smile with which she received an unusually
large packet from Riverdale ; •• it were well i
you could remember for yourself what were
proper and becoming in the rank you now hold ;
but since your own sense has not prompted you
to cease at once all. communication with thest
among whom nothing but your father's mis
fortunes could have placed you, I am now corn
polled to forbid your ever again receiving an)
of those voluminous epistles, which, to judg
from your countenance, must possess a degre
of interest perfectly unaccountable. Does tb
old man send his weekly sermons fur your soul'
benefit ?" he sneeringly said.
Mabel endeavored to reply; but her eyes fel
under his cold, searching gaze ; she could no
speak, as the thought flashed through her min
that she should never• again see that well-knows •
hand, or read those precious words of affectio
from Walter, never more be cheered anti
ported by the advico 'and §ympatlif - 01' him
site — reve - renceriiiore than any earthly
ME
"Oh father, do not, do not . compel mo to
give up my dearest—"
She stooped, fur the frown on her father's
face grew darker at this involuntary betrayal
of her preference for her early friends.
" Do not compel me to seem so ungrateful
and proud to those, whose kindness made me
what I am ; let me at least write a few words
to tell them of your wishes ?" .
" Mabel—l have already been sufficiently an
noyed and displeased by your evident dislike to
your new life, and your childish preference for
your country home ; rouse inc no further by op
position, strive to overcome your early prejudic
es, and to remember you aro an Earl's daugh
ter, and that you may bo the wife —"
At this moment, Mabel uttered a faint cry of
surprise and terror ; then recollecting herself,
she complained of feeling unwell, and begged
her father's permission to retire to her own
apartment.
" Go, my daughter ; but do not let a trifling
indisposition prevent your being in readiness to
accompany us this evening to the palace, for the
king expressly requested me to bring you, and
your mother has provided your toilette for the
occasion : let me see my Mabel the gayest and
happiest as she will be the loveliest, in the
proud assembly 1"
...•
INUMBEM 19.
' With a sad and heavy heart Mabel gained her
own chamber, and there—seated on the floor,
with her head buried in the velvet cushions of
the luxurious divan, and her precious letters
clasped to her bosom—she wept bitterly. Long
(lid sho sit thus, with her soft, black hair
hanging like a veil around her, and, her head
bowed in that utter abandonment to grief, that
only an impassioned nature can feel.
CHAPTER IV
"Oh ! her smile—it seams half holy,
As if drawn from thoughts mom far
Than our common jottings aro;
Aud if any painter draw her,
Ho would paint her unaware,
With a halo around her hair."
Never was the Lady Mable's beauty more
transcendent than on that evening ; and as
she entered the splendid apartments where
ICing James held his levee, a low murmur of ad-
miration arose on every side.
" What exquisite creature is she, who moves
like n queen by right of her own loveliness !"
exclaimed a young French nobleman of the
highest rank, who was visiting at the court.—
" Tell me, Ormond?" he said, turning to an
older person who stood beside him, " do your
cold English eyes behold unmoved such a vision
of beauty ; for my own part, I confess that,
never upon my sight rose so peerless a crea
ture." And, in truth, Mabel's beauty was of
no ordinary kind ; tall, and rather slender, yet
with all the roundness of contour, and -the
gracefulness of childhood, every movement'had
had a charm. Her complexion was exquisite
ly fair, and so transparently delicate that it
glowed with every passing, emotion ; her eyes
large and full, were of that dark violet hue, that
varies every moment,—sometimes so soft and
liquid that you would have thought her a crea
ture all gentleness, then flashing with the light
of thought, brilliant and sparkling, as though a
tear had never dimmed their lustre. At times,
the mirth—so natural to her once—would play
over her lovely features, glancing in dimples
round her rosy mouth, and bringing to view the
pearly teeth. so small and regular.
On this evening she was robed in a thin ex
quisite dress of the richest lace, over a satin of
such lustre as to resemble woven silver, whilst
on her raven hair rested a tiara of brilliants,
such as a nobleman's revenue could not pun..
chase, the gift of the Queen to Lady Arling
ton on her marriage. Her snowy neck and
arms were circled with the same sparkling
gems, and ono shone like a star on the girdle
t
English monarch, that had in
the Court of St. James.
To Lord Arlington, the king had often spoken
of his dear friend D'Alcneon ; and, ever striving
to add new links to the ties that bound the 'na
tion to France, he expressed his wish that a
union between Mabel and the young duke might
be formed, adding, at the same time, that the
latter would wed none but a member of his own
communion. To this proposal, Lord Arlington .
with much delight had acceded, and declared
that his daughter could be no other than a zeal
ous Catholic. It was with this plan at heart,
he had so earnestly desired Mabel to be present
on the evening before-mentioned, and all trans
pired to the satisfaction of the ambitious pa
rent. The king himself introduced D'Alencon•
to the lovely Mabel, and after whispering in her
oar some words of flattery, that called a blush
to her fair cheek, ho left thentio converse un
disturbed. The young duke's nature was more
earnest, sincere, and enthusiastic than any our
heroine had yet encountered, and she accord
ingly listened with unusual interest to his
words, and replied with more of her accustom
ed spirit and vivacity than she had ever.bcforo'
(TO DE CONCLUDED NEXT REEL.)
0:7-Five dollar notes of tho Bank of Susque
hanna County, at Montrose, Pa., are in *au.
lation. This is not now in sestet/co Loa its
!u - .14a are v9ottNes§4
0
ELIZABETII BA.nnarr
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