Huntingdon journal. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1843-1859, August 28, 1844, Image 1
• 1 - 71-1- 11 1 11 7 Th I 4,t 1 [v 4 osl - .1- PP N A _ L ! ; . 2 . • , 1 r - - DtbottU to erittrat kittelltacttrc, ant Mang, ;politico, Aitcratttrc, Itioratitg, arto, Acienteo, agriculture, Sinuotinent,. tic. *Q7coll. El a li:Tco. €OBl3. Pt'IILISIIED THEODORE H. CREMER. The "Jouurcu." will be published every Wed nesday morning, at $2 00 a year, if paid in advance, and if not paid within mix months, $2 50. No subscription received for a shorter period than six months, nor any paper discontinued till all ar reamges are paid. Advertisements not exceeding one square, will be inserted three times for $1 00, and for every subse quent insertion 25 cents. If no definite orders are given as to the time an advertisement is to be continu ed, it will be kept in till ordered out, and charged ac cordingly. MICKIMLLA.NMOTTEJ. 'From the Culambia Magazine. VINCENT H ERVEY; Oa Tim MAN or xrartrzam. Br TILE AUTILOIL OF "A NEW HOME," &C. A few months after I left college, I quitted my native place with the intention of trying what could be bought with a large fortune which had become mine by the untimely death of a kind father and uncle. My guardians had given up their charge, and though I exulted in the thought of my own competency to take care of myself. I was not in sensible of an occasional totterishness, such as a child may feel on first leaving off his go cart and leading-strings. 'With that listlessness which is sometimes the result of having plenty of money, I sought amusement which should not interfere with my love of reverie. I hated dissippation, and scor ned many modes of killing time much in vogue among young men of my own class. They voted me an odd fellow, and left me to myself. My head was full of romance, and yet when one of my guardians advised me to fall in love, I determined that should be the very last thing I would do. A commonplace courtship and marriage, to set out in life with, would be putting the denouement of a novel on the first page. I resolved to see much of this fair world, and study most narrowly the fairest portion of its inhabitants, before I would hazard my liberty by a particular interest in any one of them. I must remind the reader that I was not city bred, to account for the fact that I was a devout believer in friendship. Against this best solace of life I had prepared no shield ; but rather sought an occa sion when I might win some kindred soul to a bro • -therhood with which the ties of blood could hear no comparison. I felt ready to pour manly life for such a Pylades, and) I did not doubt I should find some one equally willing to be all in all to me. I did not consult my guardians on this subject, for I , had an intuitive premonition that they would not ,Ir agree with me; but I was none the less resolved to shape my course after my own views. I rather avoided than sought society, sure that I should ne ver meet, in that unmeaning sound, the friend whose regard was to form the happiness of my life. I was standing on the wharf one afternoon, just as the steamboat was leaving for Albany. I enjoyed , the animating bustle; I looked at the gay, busy, 146 ..jinxioua passengers, and left something like envy of their happiness as I saw the boat in motion, and se veral of the crowd on shore waving hats and hand- kerchiefs in adieu. At this moment a young man of most preposessing appearance came running along Greenwich street with a valise in his hand. When he reached the wharf he called anxiously for a barge to take him to the steamer, and throwing his valise into one which happened to be ready, ho sprang in himself with an expression of satisfaction. I could not resist a moment longer the desire I felt • to go too, and I was on the deck of the steamer be fore I recollected that I was wholly unprepared for a journey. This, however, was a matter of small moment, and I soon became interested in the busy scene around me, and above all in the gentleman whose countenance and manner had impressed me so favorably. He appeared two or three years older teen myself, and the few words which escaped him Ave flew along in the barge satisfied me that. ho as at least well bred. The rest I took for granted. 1 had one or two acquaintances on board, but they liad never seen my hero before, and wondered at the .....r 'interest which I expressed in him. I sat down on deck in musing mood, hoping that some accidental circumstance would serve to open some communi cation with the stranger, when he approached, and with some slight remark, seated himself near me. ' This mode of making an acquaintance would no i .. • • i Yeti-, I believe, have occurred to my formal college ,brain ; but the ice once broken, I was more and pow pleased with my new friend, who conversed 4 )titlf fluency, touching on a variety of subjects, and land ling them well, taking care,however, to allow me full share of the conversation with a polite de uce• which was not a little flattering to my van , . ' , he tea bell disturbed us, but an hour later found y T j its pacing the deck arm in arm, and until midnight we continued to enjoy the moonlight together. It ',as late when I awoke the next morning, and the L : , .mer was nearing the wharf at Albany. I sought t my new friend, whose name on the card ho gave i I . , me was Henry Errington, and we agreed to take li lodgings together. We landed and were making our muddy way up Market street when a rough looking matt called my c ompanion aside. In another moment I saw him in the hands of a brace of constables, who expree. 'led no small exultation at having secured him. I wildered ; but my consternation WWI complete (_?„ UDaa.. when I felt myself arrested also in the character of cite of the gang.' In vain I protested the inno cence of both—introduced my companion as Mr. Errington, and handed my own card to the men of law; they laughed at all I could say, and insisted on our going with them quietly. One of them, by way of satisfying himself and the bystanders that he was not mistaken, took a dirty paper from his pocket, and read a description which he declared fitted me to a hair. 'Six feet high,' said he, glancing up at me, for he was a little, stunted figure of a man, 'rather slightly made; hair dark brown, very handsome teeth, and piercing black eyes; white slender hands, and every appearance of a gentleman. He folded up the paper and looked about him wills an air of complacency, saying, ' I think I'm about right—go it, my tine fellows! we'll have the rest pretty soon!' MI situation was awkard enough. My own ac quaintances had all left the steamer before us, and there was no ono present who could identify me.— I requested that Mr.-E., naming one of the first men in the city, might be sent for. A clear fetch,' said my tormentor, 'but it won't do, Mr. Smoothlongue. If you want to see Mr. E. he may come after we get you safe under lock and key, so come along !' I began myself to think this the wisest course, for a crowd was gathering, and our situation was becoming more conspicuous every moment. I wal ked on quietly, therefore, and, as we turned a cor ner, looked my companion in misfortune in the face for the first time since this unpleasant scene com menced. Our eyes met, and his were instantly cast on the ground. My heart still yearned toward him, and I was disposed to believe him as innocent as myself, when we met Mr. E. and another friend of my father's. They were passing mo without a re cognition, but I stretched out my hand and arrested their progress. 'Ala! Hervey ! how are you? then looking at my companions, and noticing my agitated counte nance—glow in the name of common sense came you here, and in such company? In spite of myself, tears of bitter mortification sprang to my eyes, and my throat seemed to swell almost to bursting, as I explained the circumstances of my situation. And when I found myself at lib erty, and quietly walking home with Mr. E. the re collection that I had been taken in close compan ionship with the notorious sharper S—, hum bled me beyond measure. At least,' said I, in my inmost soul, here is one lesson which will never need to be repeated!' I remained in Albany only long enough to pro cure clothes and money from New York, and then set out for Niagara, hoping to be able to leave my mortified pride behind me. The charming aspect of the country at the most delightful of all seasons, and the many amusing incidents of a stage journey, (for at that distant day railroads had not as yet winged our flight to the Falls,) gradually dissipated the vividness of my recollections, and I had regain ed something of my natural cheerfulness when we arrived at Buffalo. I was waiting for the carriage which was to con vey me to the Falls, when I saw alighting from another, which had just driven up, a lady and gen tleman. The lady was, as I decided at once,young probably, from her form ; beautiful, certainly, from the thickness of her veil; as certainly contme it foot from the delicacy of her foot and ankle and the faultless chaussure. The gentleman was forty, perhaps; possibly her father--more probably her uncle—this was quite settled in my mind before they were fairly seated in the private parlor to which they were ushurcd with obsequious civility by the lacqueys of the establishment. I longed for a peep at the face, merely for curiosity's sake, to see if my sagacious prognosis had been correct; but I watched in vain. My carriage drove up, and my baggage was strapped behind it, when the lady and her companion came out as if for a - walk through the town. Take off the trunks,' said Ito the ser vant; I have changed my mind. Ish not go to Niagara to-night.' Yerywell, sir!' said the man, tryin,„ ok as if it was all very natural, though, automaton as lie was, that seemed difficult. Go in the morning, sir?' 'Yes—no--I don't know,'—l said, following with my eyes the retreating forms of the objects of my new mania. The waiter's eyes followed mine. 'They're going back, sir: they've been to the Falls a whole week. Queer to stop—and he dis appeared, leaving me to walk up the street after the lady and gentleman. I had not walked far when I met them returning. I The veil was now thrown back, and I saw a coun tenance beautiful even beyond any romantic imagi nings. As they passed I heard the sweet tones which should ever belong to such a face saying— ' We must travel very dilligently to reach N. York before the sailing of the packet. This is the third, and wo ought to be in town a day or two before wo sail. That I heard all this in the legitimate way, that one catches a word or two in the street, I dare not affirm. I believe my pace must have been slack ened as I passed those blue eyes, at least as much as politeness warranted. But what will the reader think of the idea that planted itself in my own brain on hearing those few words I I believe my Albany resolutions must have slipped my memory at the moment, for I hes. hated not an instant to resolve upon a voyage to England. Now as I could not conveniently cross tho ocean without some slight preparation, my resolution was no sooner taken than I prepared to set out on any return to the city. A stage going eastward was at the door of the hotel when I returned, and without waiting for another look at the fair face which had so stricken me, I caused my luggage to be put on, and placed myself on the only vacant scat. As we were about to start, the face came to a window al most level with that of the stage. A good looking girl, that !' said a poesy old fel low at my side, as he was putting a great woollen shawl about his neck. I looked at him witheringly, and before I could turn my head again we were olt I scarcely spoke during the journey to Albany; and, while waiting there for the departure of the steamer, I carefully avoided the sight of my friends whose questions and remarks I dreaded. I had reasoned myself into a full conviction that there could be no imprudence in my present course. I was old enough to travel: I had nothing to prevent me; why should I not go in the next packet as well as any other? Yet I did not quite like the idea of discussing the matter with those prudent old gen tlemen who felt an interest in me for my father's sake. As to the lady, I did not mean to seek her ac quaintance without first ascertaining who she was, and I was quite sure that I could accomplish this before the sailing of the packet. All this I had said over to myself a thousand times during my si lent transit between Buffalo and Albany, though I cannot deny that I had some doubts as to my pru dence being as evident to other people as I tried to make it to myself. My first night on board the steamer was not a very tranquil one. The hurry of my spirits kept me walking the deck until very late, and bforc daylight I was awakened by the noise and trampling upon deck occasioned by the boat's having grounded in a part of the river which was then moro subject to such casualties titan at present. We were near Hudson, and most of the passengers were put on shore, anxious to reach the city and soon filling every conveyance then procurable. I had, through some accident, been among the last to quit the steamer, and when I came on shore, it was only to find that there was no carriage of any description to be had, so that I was obliged to return to the water and wait till fate should stir our vessel or send us another. This occasioned a delay of some hours, during which my impatient soul threatened to make its es cape from my body, so much did I fear this unto ward accident might hinder my departure in the packet. At length another boat took us off, and I trod the deck with a feeling of happiness which is worth something in this dull world, delighted with having found a speedy conveyance to the city.— But how was this feeling heightened whets I saw, standing at the door of the ladies cabin the very people who were uppermost in my thoughts. I could scarcely restrain my feet from springing to ward them, and the start of surprise which I could not repress would scarcely have passed unnoticed anywhere but in that crowd. The next moment the bright vision disappeared, and neither the lady or,her father came out to tea. One of the maids came out for a cup of tea, and I watched for the name which she might mention to the captain, but it escaped me. I asked the captain as soon as I could find un opportunity. ' Tea !' said he, ' I forget—oh ! it was Mrs. Pot finger, an old lady that I'-but I did not listen any longer. Sleep was banished from my eyes that night, and the next morning, when I had seen the lady and her attendant get into a plain private carriage,l proceeded to my guardian's, he was struck with the paleness of my countenance. , You seem really ill, Vincent,' said ho, you must take something and go to bed at once.' His surprise, when I expressed my intention of sanity for England in the next packet, was indee cribee. He tried to argue me into waiting a fort night or so, but finding this in vain, ho made no serioytt objection, but quietly and kindly sat about expediting my preparations. With all the aid I nd, however, it proved somewhat of an un and I had not a moment to spare when I d a steamer which was to take the packet's passengert down the bay. Once on her deck, I awaited TIM unspeakable anxiety the arrival of my fair incognita. She came not, and I began to feel that if she should not come at all my faith in the wisdom of my course would be considerably diminished. But at the last moment a carriage drove furiously down the street, and from it alighted the objects of my solicitude. They were accompa nied by a lady and gentleman whom I knew very well, but alas ! they took leave of their friends on the wharf, so that there was no opportunity for the introduction Iso ardently desired. This was soon forgotten, however; in a packet ono gets along with , nut these formalities. Our run down the bay was delightful, and I felt supremely happy. Smile not, reader, if I confess that for a few delicious hours I felt as if an introduction--a chance—was all that was necessary. After all ray misgivings to be so completely secure of the society of this lovely being for weeks—to be, as it were, domesticated with her —it was intoxicating! I felt as if site were already all my own. When we reached the vessel, amid all the hustle and confusion—shaking bends and promising to write—counting trunks and scolding porters—l alone was calm and unmoved. One idea was enough for toe. I stood with folded arms looking over the vessel's side, leaving the care of everything to a servant whom I had engaged the day before. We were under way—we sat down to dinner, and my heart was beating a not very comfortable tattoo as the passengers, singly or in parties appear ed and took their seats. By and by the gentleman appeared but not the lady. As the scats for the whole voyage were then drawn for, one wan reser ved next her protector. I listened for the name, but the distance and confusion were too much even for my quickened hearing. I swallowed some jin ner and went to my berth, needing repose as much as ever man did. Nature took her revenge and I awoke not until near breakfast time next morning. Nearly all the passengers were seated nt the table, when the pale, sickly looking, companion of the blue eyed beauty made his appearaee. I was passing near the captain when I heard him say to this gen tleman 'Will ^.ot Mrs. Russell breakfast with us sir V If on avalanche had descended upon me I could scarcely have been more completely crushed. I recollect distinctly the first shock—the instant the conviction that the object of my mad pursuit was n wire—and the effort on my part to step forward to my scat at the table—but that's all. The exhaustion consequent upon the ex citement of the last few days made me powerless under the blow, and I fell on the floor senseless. When I recovered I was on deck—all were gath ered around mound the hand of my beautiful destroy er held the vinaigrette which had been the means of recalling my sent ei. At sight of her the blood rushed to my face. Ah he revives !' said the sweet voice which had once and only once before met my ear. I was carried to my berth, where I suirered from the violence of contending feelings more than can pos sibly be conceived by those whose feelings are under reasonable control. In addition to all came sea sickness—alike intolerable to the fool and philoso pher. I wished for death a thousand times, but death would not come ; and after a week or ten days I was able to walk on deck again, although still very weak. I was thrown continually into the society of Mr. and Mrs. Russell, and every day felt my danger more and more forcibly. I, with my principles in love with a mauled woman! the thought filled me with horror. Yet the delirium had gone too far to be lightly cured. Oh ! how bitterly did I then regret my wild lire cipitancy ! yet my principles had not forsaken me. I had the fortitude to shun the civility of the inno cent creature and her unsuspecting husband. I declined many kindly meant invitations from them, prompted no doubt by their pity fix the invalid, to a game of chess or a walk on tho deck. They tees red me as a sick man, and that I hail really become. My spirits and appetite were gone—the violence of unschooled feeling were destroying me. My most constant wish was that I might fly from associations so fatal to my peace. Mr. Russell had been constantly unwell, and seemed declining. Ono day its coming up stairs rather too quickly, he was seized with a violent fit of coughing which ended in the breaking of a blood vessel. At the alarm which was instantly given, Mrs. Russell tlew to the spot; and at the sight of her husband covered with blood, also fainted, and would have fallen if I had not received her to my arms. For ono moment I held her there, the very next I placed her in those of the person who stood next me, and rushed down into the solitary cabin, where I endeavored to subdue the strange agitation of my mind. Mr. Russell was brought down and laid on a mattress, the surgeon insisting upon abso lute silence, and leading away the weeping wife lest the sight of her distress should agitate duo suf ferer. In a short time she returned, and seating herself by the side of her husband's couch watched Ihim with immoveable eyes and a calmness which was evidently the ellbct of the most determined self command. I felt that I could have exchanged places with the dying Russell to appropriate that gaze . . . _ not inclined to add myself to their number. FeCI- A few days relieved our apprehensions of present dog my situation unpleasant, I had resolved upon I changing my quarters, when seine symptoms of the clanger, but it was evident to all that Russell could never recover. Ho wasted doe by day, and con- thickening of the plot induced me to wait a little, in ' stant watchfulness and anxiety produced a scarcely 1 merepity for the poor widowed mother, whose less obvious change in his wife's appearance. she blind ambition was about to be rewarded by the was pale and feeble; her once clear voice, tremu- utter ruin of her only child. lous, and her eyes sad and sunken, retained scarce 1 Things were in thin state when I was awakened a trace of their natural lustre. When we landed ,at three o'cock in the morning by a noise in the pae at Liverpool where I ascertained that the Russell's ,sage. There was no lodger beside myself, and the were entire strangers, I began to persuade my eon- , house was usually very quiet. Mndarne Lauvergue science that it would ho inhuman to leave them I had spent the evening before with Miss Enfield, and without a friend on whom to depend for those ser- , I had observed that they retired for the night to vices which money cannot buy. But I could not I eether, instead of Madame returning to her todg allow the sophistry of love to vanquish my better ' ings as usual. I :lad been convinced that some judgment. Whatever aid they might require ought I thing was in contemplation, and the moment I was to be rendered by any ens rather than myself; tine, , awakened by the sound near my chamber door, I this conviction was so strong upon are that as soon , arose, and dressing myself as speedily as possible. n . I h a d scan them es t a bli,h e d i n comfortable guar- , issued forth with is determination to ascertain tern I tore myselfaway. 1 whether common robbers only were concerned, or Mrs. Russell's marriage with a man so much 01-that far more cruel wretch whose movements I had i been watching for some time. der than herself was one of those things which , naturally excite some remark, and it was net long Three were whispers on the stairs above me—a after our partirig at Liverpool that it happened to bo 1 consultation, probably, as to the very slight sound the subject of conversation in a company of amen- , ...I. in opening my door ; but the debate seethed cans whom I met in London. There I learned that , satisfactory, for in a few moments two men, bearing disparity in ago was not so great as it appeared, I a heavy trunk, and with thcin the noble Baron ho!- Mr. Russell having become prematurely old through ! ding it lantern, appeared at the turtling of the stairs. ill health. He had been the guerdimr of Flo- i The moment the light flashed upon my free, the rence Ainslie, and although while he had charge of I Baron, with u deep curse, tired his ready pistol.— her fortune he had lost his own by the dishonesty 1 the window which opened on the street and had The ball missed me, and in another instant I was at 1 of a partner, he not only preserved . hers, but mane - god to increase it materially. H given the alarm. It was scarcely rive minutes from and great kindness to herself so won upon her is noble character I gen . ! the time when I hail the satisfaction of seeing not only titude, that when she perceived his health to be the inferio ragents, but the Baron himself in the sinking under the influence of disappointment and , charge of the police. vexation, she offered herself and her fortune at his To deacrihi , the home scene, however, is beyond seaplane& Mr. Buren refused to avail himself of my power. At the sound of the pistol, the tidal, her generosity until after a year spent by Florence in society suited to her youth and her fortune. At the end of that time they were married ; and it was on their wedding tour that I had first seen them.-- I remained but a few days in London, for the feel ing that I was waiting to hear of the death of poor Russell, a man whom I highly esteemed, weighed heavily upon my sense of right, and I feared that from waiting I should ere long fall into wishing.— So I set out for the continent, resolved to fly, if pos sible, from my former ungoverned self, and hope from time the wisdom which I had as yet failed to gather from experience. My tour of Europe was a mere ramble. Forsaking the beaten track, I so journed wherever a wayward fancy could find a momentary interest. I roamed_ through Syrian forests, peeped at the seraglio, danced wills a Rus sian belle at an imperial fete at St. Petersburg!), spent a whole summer among the hills of Sweden, and, at the end of all, found myself once more in Paris, the centre of the travelling world. Here hay ing no intention of mingling in gay society, I took private lodgings in the family of an English lady of I reduced fortune, who was obliged to eke out a slen der income by the only means in her power. In the course. of a quiet winter which I spent here I had frequent opporturities to befriend my hostess Mrs. Enfield in matters connected with her pecuniary atiiiirs; and this naturally excited a feel ing of mutual interest. This lady had one daugh ter, a young girl who was ut a convent in Paris for her education. While I remained at Mrs. Enfield's the daughter came home thoroughly accomplished in all that Paris thinks neceseary for a young lady, and endowed besides with a handsome face, and such grcce of manner as is sure to be found attractive to most men whose hearts are not pre-occupied us mine was. Upon this girl, her sole pride and hope, Mrs. Enfield had lavished every thing she could command, and far more than she could afford ; and from the extreme attention and expense bestowed upon Miss Adelaide's dress it was evidently inten ' ded that she should make her fortune by marriage. Those things aro well understood in Paris and Lon don whatever may be the case nearer home. It was not long before Miss Enfield Kogan to be surrounded by admirers, and among them I obser ved very frequently a person whom I had met at the German baths—a man who had made the worst possible impression upon me, and between whom and myself there had seemed front the first to be a natural repulsion. He was handsome and fash ionable, and moved in the society of people of rank ; but there are black-lees even among princes, and it Was among the nobility (l) of this character that I lied seen Baron Von Kohl. He became very earn eat in his pursuit of Miss Enfield, and else seemed as much flattered by his attentions that I began se riously to fear for her welfare. I felt thoroughly convinced of the unworthiness of the man, and yet when I began to search my recollections, for speci fic facto, I found myself utterly at a loss for any thing which I could properly bring forward in or der to put Mrs. Enfield on her grand. There was a French woman too who professed great friendship for the family, who was evidently in Von Kohl's interest; au that I felt obliged to proceed very cau tiously, enough determined riot to see the poor girl sacrificed without at least an efihrt to save her. I had an acquaintance at Baden who was one of the know4veryliorly-thet-is anahodll sort of peri -1 plc, and to hint I resolved to apply for some in-sight into the history of our Baron—asking first about all the rest attic world, and bringing Monsieur le Bar on in with en apropos at the close. In reply to this epistle I received rifler some two or three weeks delay, a weighty hacquet giving a year's tittle-tattle of Baden, and a full length portrait of the Baron, drawn in darker colors than even my prejudices had employed. 'lle has at least three wives; conclu ded my informant, but his barronesses gave hen no sort of trouble, since lie understands the matter too well ever to endow one of them with a legal hold on !dm.' With this Authority in my hand I went to Mrs. Enfield, and, with as much delicacy and caution as possible, gave her what I had gathered respecting a pewit who woe evidently in determined pursuit of her daughter. If I had expected gratitude for my interference. I should pare been sadly disappointed. Sic received my comniunicationwith a Fort offoreed politeness, and in reply to my protestations of friend ship (of the truth of which rho had received some substantiel testimonials) she coolly insinuated that young gentlemen sometimes thought themselves ve ry dwinterested,when in fact they were far otherwiqe. The truth was, the good lady's pride, a prominent or rather leading trait in her character, had been gratified with the eclat a the Baron's attentions ; and she had such an unbounded opinion of her daughter's attractions that she could not believe it possible they could be viewed with indifference. The Baron visited Miss Enfield as before, but saw that I had made enemies of not only the scoun drel himself; but of Madame Lauvergue, ramie de la maim, and even of the fair Adelaide, who had been taught to look upon me as a more of a dog in the manger, bent upon keeping off suitors, though WLRaQ)Ueti) tunate Adelaide, dressed as for a journey, had flown to the apot, and although the whole incident occur red with such suddenness that it seemed, a moment after, as if nothing had happened, the effect was dreadful. While Adelaide lay on the floor in stong hysterics, a loud scream from the attendant in her mother's room announced that Mrs. Enfield had been seized with a fit. Medical attendance was procured instantly, and Miss Enfield was recalled to herself by the shock of her mother's danger; but it soon becsme evident that to Mrs. Enfield the event was about to prove fatal. She recovered only far enough to make the most agonizing attempt to speak, and before noon the next day breathed her last, leaving her unhappy daughter as desolate a creature as the sun ever shone upon. Throughout this whole scene Madame 'Auverg ne had taken a very activo part, and poor Adelaide appeared to be completely under her influence.— In spite of my conviction that I had done the best that circumstances permitted, my position was a very painful one, and Madame ("Auvergne took care to heighten the impression by various hints and regrets as to my unfortunate inteference.— She said that the Baron would have been very soon at liderty to acknowledge the marriage, and that he had reason to depend on gaining Mrs. En field's forgiveness for the step he was about to take. I bore all, however, resolved to leave noth ing undone which kindness could demand; and after the funeral of Mrs. Enfield I attended to the settlement of her affairs as if she had been my own mother. In the course of this I discovered that af ter all debts were paid, Adelaide would be without a sous, and also that she had not a relative in the world to whom to look fur aid or countenance. I shall not dwell upon this part of my history.— The issue of the affair was my offering marriage to Adelaide Enfield though on looking back I could scarcely tell how even the finesse of Madame Lauvergue brought thin about. I must do poor Adelaide the justice to say, however, that she was not easily persuaded to accept me. She became fully convinced . of the unworthiness of Von Kohl, but she did not conceal that the utter loneliness of her situation and the helpless delicacy which had been the result of her education, influenced her in receiving my proposals. So that my marriage was arranged with a rational coolness which was the very last thing to have been anticipated for the ro mantic and passionate boy who had crossed tho ocean in a love•dream only two years before. hives my wish to return at once to America, and to this my wife did not object ; but she made it a point that Madame /Auvergne should be in vited to accompany her. To this, in on evil hour I consented, moved by pity for the sadness which seemed fixed upon the once gay Adelaide. This woman, all smiles and smoothness, proved an ab solute thorn in my side. Her ascendency over my wife increased every day ; her voice decided every question, and if I ventured to demur, a hint from Madame Lauvergue that it would be necessary for her to return to France was always sufficient to throw Adelaide into the depths of depression for dap! to gether. My wife win a thorough Parisian, and she clung to Nladawe Lauvergue as the only relic left to her of Paradise. Ti do W. a sort of bondage that I could not bear any longer. Though willing to go to the last extreme required by kindness, I was not dis posed to submit to absolute imposition, and I re solved, at the risk of a scene, even a 'succession of scenes, to take su early opportunity of signifying to Madame Lauvergke that I was prepared to find an escort for her in the next Havre pocket. I had not long to wait. It was but a few days after the formation of my resolution that Madame undertook the otlice of arguing with one, very pa thetically, on the cruelty of having grieved Ade laide by omitting something which Madame Lau vergue had decided to be necessary. I avoided getting angry by having made up my mind before hand ; but the decision with which I insisted upon Madame Lauvergue's departure seemed to give a new view of my character toboth my wife and her friend. Adelaide. awed by my determined firmness, submitted almost without resistance; and th is tameness on her part was highly resented by Madame Lativergn e, who exhibited on the occasion of her dismissal. all the malice of her intriguing character. The steamer which conveyed her to the ship brought me buck a letter, in which Mad ame Lauvergue assured me that my wife had never ceased to love Von Kohl, and concluded with an insinuation that the infant to whose birth I was looking forward with so much interest would probably have a claim only upon my charity. Thts envenomed scrawl I determined to treat with the contempt which I was convinced it mer ited, and full of thisidea I put it at once into my wife's hands, in order to show her how utterly des picsble I considered it. But I was doomed, as it would seem, to be misunderstood, for poor Ade laide had no sootier glanced her eye over it than she burst out into mourning and lamentation of her wretched fate ; insisted that I suspected her, and so agitated and distressed herself that she was taken ill in a few hours, and in spite of all that could be done by human skill and attention she lived only a week after the departure of the ill-omened Mad ; ame Lauvergue. ! I passed a time of almost unmingled wretched ' ncss after this loss. In reviewing the past, the consciousness of right intentions could not wipe sway the feeling's of self-reproach. I perceived that many things might have been better done ; . . • . . . _ I charged mvsdf with omissions, with mistakes', bat above all , with my old besetting sin of impul sive precipitancy. I saw that I had been wrong at the very outset; asking only gratifiication when I should have sought out duty. A sadder man I certainly was, and I hope a wiser and better one, fur thvsetrials and disappointments. The world no longer scented to lOC like a garden laid out for my amuse ment, but as a scene of serious effort, of self.diseip lino, of .I:sacrifice, through which duty alone opened a path to happiness. It was long after this dark season that loncemom met with Mr,. Russell. Shelves living quietly with the aunt under whose care her early years had been passed; and although : , he was no longer mourning as a wider, she had let:tined the subdued and I thoughtful character which best befits ono who has tact with the greatest of all tones. To me, 1 with my changed views, this was a charm which t more than compensated tor the absence of the daz cling we,uu that first caught my boyish fancy : and I congratulated myself that the lessons of life had in seine measure fitted too to appreciate the excel lence nhi ch had formerly been thrown Into the shade by mere outward grace. I need not say that I sought and won the hand of Florence Russell, for all novel readers known full well that I should never have thought my story worth the telling if I had not been able to give it the crowning grace of a supremely happy marriage.