The Columbia spy. and literary register. (Columbia, Pa.) 1848-1848, March 25, 1848, Image 1

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NEW SERIES, VOL. 1, NO. 39.]
Office—Front Street. opposite Barr's Hotel
Psliication Office—Locust Street, opposite the P. O.
'Mots. —The COLUMBIA SPY is published every
Satanist rimming at the low price of ONE DOLLAR A
YCAR IN ADVANCE, or one dollar and fifty cents,if
not said within one month of the time of subscribing.
.smgle comes, THREE CSNTS.
Tomos Ativenitst No—Advertisements not exceed
ing x Square three tunes fore', and 25 cents for each
addnal insertion. 'I hose of a greater length in pro
cO-A liberal discount made to yearly adver
ion PnisTleo— Such as Hand - bills, Posting-bibs.
Cando, Labels, Pamphlets, Blanks of every description
orcoars.etc.rtc..exectited with iratnessanddespatch
and on reasonaeleterms.
IN VIE MATTER of the intended application of JACOB
ROLLAND, to the , Court of Quarter Sessions, at . the
April Term. for license to keep a tavdtrn in the
township of Cast - Donegar,At betnF an old stand.
WE. the under , igned, dratalltrqf Estlrt D onn .' town .
slap. m which said tavern ia. , trinictied,Ao ba kept, Do
Comfy. that the said inn or tameartirtecessa.o to Recant
module the public and et 'tertian stilizift ra tazyj travellers,
mid that we are well nequatated..:-w ktlirLstaid Jam%
Rolland. and that he lb of good repute foMrcrnesty and
temperance, and is w ell provided with "helm room and
ecniventence4 tor the accommodation' of strangers and
John Bachman. Samuel Maloney. John }Custer,
Lam Tttncy, John IV. Cloth. Jacob Litthart, Samuel Nay
lor Shill. John H. M. Eagle. Alexander Bach-
Mei. 101111 Su.
:Much 4.1- it-tit
IS THE NiArrcit of the intended application of CEO.
u, the Court of Quarter Se..ton9, at the
Aprd 'renn. 1-1 , . for her rice to keep a tavvrn 111 the
tawnslnp of NVe.l Ilempfield, it belie; an old .tend.
WE. the uraler.tgaed Clll,O. of fempfieid
toate•lap m , huh tavern 14 propo,tl to he kept. Do
Certify, that the soul inn or 1:11,rla I. neee...,try to strewn
madam the Nadi , and entertain stranger. and traveller..
and that n e are actin:tinted wlth the %aid George
and d u u t u , t . 01 good repute for hone.ty and
tempttane, pro oled with house MOM find
eent.ona trees for the tiecommodatton of strangers and
trateller. ,
Henry Brarkart. Jacob Camber. John Snyder. Andrew
MetJart, Chri-tion Noll. Jaeolt Wet/. John Devehu, J.
M Culp. Jacob Will. John I - raly, D. W. Wttmer, 11. A.
)larch 1.
rsivr,!,IATTER at the intended imphention of CHRIS
TIAN DIT1\'II.I,1:11. to the Court or Se, , dons.
at the April Term. I -I-. forheenie to keep a tavern m
Writ Ilempfield tonal-hips it being an old
WE. the umber-n4ned. enuens of We-t I lempfield
which -:lid tavern t, propo , ed to be kept. Do
Certn). that the said lint or tavern is neeeiiary to ac
commodate the public and entertain , trangerr. told ?ruts
thal we are well acquainted wtth the until
Cl.rotiall Dila tiler. and that he 1, of root: reptile for hon.
es q ari d t•aaperatice, and tti well provided with lanl , e,
room nod Con,ille lice , for the acconunodatton of stran
ger, and traveller , .
Andrew Monger. Jw-tat , Cray, Jacob Hoffman, Jacob
V t; re t er , mom& I Imlintin. Jacob Clan.nan
N Cinder Jacob Noll. John Manic, John M. Grukr, Jno.
haulier. Henry Copeultet fee,
March I I-1--3t
IN THE tl A'rrEß of the intended application of MAG
DALENA GEIGER. to the Court of Quarter Sessions,
of the April Tern,. I-1-, t'or license to keep a tavern in
Manor township. it tieing an old stand.
WI: the undersigned citizen- of Manor township. in
which :and tavern In proposed to he kept. I.)i. Cern
that the sold inn or tavern 1. nece.sary to accommodate
snoopers and travellers. mat that we are well nes
gemmed with the said NI ogdolena Geiger, and that she is
of paid repute for honesty and temperance, anal is well
provident with house room and conveniences for the ac
commodation of strangers and travellers.
nutty Ilcrr. John W. Engle, Joint Outman. Jr.. Tames
Ifaughe Peter Saylor. John Oberdorff. George Imt7.,
Jacob llola•eker. Ammo. 11 SIIIIMII.II. Peter IlLe,tutlil. .100.
Miller 6 1144 r. Samuel Grosh, Bernard NI aim, George
G Brush. Jnool. era.
N•irih I
mArnat of the application of 1:13-
WAND JACOBS. to the Court of Quarter Sessions, at
the April •Penn, 1-1., tor henna to keep a tavern in
I.Vr. ;he Loaler,da•tl alliJells of the I:nroupth of Col
unthia.nt wlaeh run tan rut I- proprpoot to he kept, DO
Cert.:V. !kart tine ,tal 11111 or trueerlll , neee-,ary to :wet:lm
molate the politic Min elitarlOlll -lounger, Mid traveller-.
and iliit , te are well acquainted the -rod lAward
JacnOpi. and that he is of cowl repute for hune.iy and
Onlperillea. and n• well proVoteil DOOM and
ealilemallitei for the necommodatton of stranger. and
110 . 0. rt Spear. John l'eterlcleinan, I
I'iahL r. 11 11 Fry. 1101...rtIccm. A Thonin.:,
I..ic Vatw.hen. Win .1. ?Irvin. Lrn. 111.:1,-.•r. .1. Rum-
Pio l'rpnel.. A Alotlemvll. 11, Uhal.ant.
1.111,11 1, 1.1-.41
IN THU MATTER attic intended application of MAR
GARET BROWN, to the Court of Quarter SC , SIOIIS. at
the April Term. 1-1 , , for licen..e to keep n Invert in
the Borough of Culumbin, it being an old qiind.
WE. tan. under.ogned citizen. of the Borough of Col
umbia. in which ...aid tavern in proposed to be kept. Do
Ctrtit. that the 'aid tavern is 11VCV.4.111 . y to accommodate
the pubhe and enter:ma Ntranger.4 and travelleo, and
that Sic are v.•• 11 ltepiankted with the said Margaret
Brom a. and thot -he is 01 good repute for honesty and
temPor , iiice and I, w , II provided Stith hou-e room and
convemenen, for the tte,ollllllodlllloll of ..tranger.- and
John IS Edward,. :1tolra.•1 Wi.ler, Jr. 11. H. Pry. Pr
u•r A Knolnmz. Conirn.l:•.wart, John M'l'all• Joan. Rlllll
- W. Couerell. It 01o:di:mt. Peter Haldeman, Jr.,
John ltr.•nvrr Peter Haldeman.
)larch 1. 1^1.,-8t
INTIM the intended applientme of CHRIS
TIAN NEFF, to the. Court of QuarterSe•sam, nt the
April Term. tor heense to keep a tavern in Fal
mouth. ui Conoy town,linp. it being an old 'tuna-
AVE. the undermgned c nitens of Conoy tow n:lnp. m
vrhich 'aid tavern L. proposed to be kept. 1)o Certify. that
the can.' inn or tavern t. neeessary to neenrinnodate the
public and entertain stranger+ and travellers, mind that
we are well acquainted with the .4.1 Christian Neff. and
that he icor good repute for 100ne47 and temperance. and
is cecil provident with house room and conveniences for
the accommodation of strangers and travellers
Jobs Vouhees. Jr., Joi n t Linnet% Items; Grove, George
Cline. Wm. Hinkel, Benjamin I‘lunick. Abraham Collins,
John Hawk. Jacob A. Miller, Frederick Smith, Jacob
Albrite. Henry Zook.
Marell 4. 1.4--9 t
Is MATER of the intended application of SAM
UEL AI.I.GEIR. to the Court of Quarter Sessions, at
the April Term. 135 , for license to keep a tavern in the
Borninzh of Marietta. it being an old stand.
tlle undersigned, othrom of the Borough of Mari
etta. in which said tavern is proposed to be, Do Cer
tify, that the said inn or tavern is necessary to accommo
date the public and entertain strtilloor- and travellers. and
that we. are well acquattned with 'the said Samuel All
gem and that lie is of good repute for honesty mid tem
perance, and is well provided with Loons room and con
veniences for the accommodation of strangers and trav
J. F. Eagle. Abraham Cassel, David Cassel, Simon S.
Nagle. John Roth, Robert Turner. 'lVrn A. Spangler,
Wm. ll Clare, Abraham Varley, Thomas Stenee, David
harry. W. Johnston, John Libliart.
March .1, 14 -8t
IN TIII3 MAT-rErt of the intended appliention of wm.
Ll.k:l1 CUMMINGS.. to the Court of Quarter Sessions,
at the April Term. for license to keep a tavern in
the Borough of Marietta. it being an old stand.
IVB, the undersigned, citizens of the 13orough of Mari
etta, in which the said inn or tavern is proposed to be
Igns Do Certify, that the said tavern is necessary to ac
commodate the public and entertain strangers and tray
e,lers, and that we arc well acquainted with the said
William Cummings, and that lie is of good repute for hon
esty and temperance, and is well provided with house
room and conveniences for the accommodation of stran
gers and travellers.
John Miller, Andrew Leader, George Cummings, Wm.
Dix. John H. Goodman, Peter Baker, John K. Fidler. Con
rad Fidler. Ludwig Leader, Samuel Johnson, David Coa
le!, Jr., Henry Coughenour, James Scott, Lawrence
!floret% 4,3849-3 t
IN THE MATTER of the intended applicalion of MAR
TIN ERWIN, to the Court of Quarter Sessions, at the
April Term. 1.4.3, for license to keep a tavern in the
Borough of Columbia, it being an old stand.
WE, the undersigned, citizens of the Borough of Col
umbia. in which said tavern is proposed to be kept. Do
Cenny. that the said inn or tavern is necessary to ac
commodate the public and entertain strangers anti tray
pliers, and that we are well ucqunuiten with the said Mar
tin Erwin, and that he is of good repute for honesty and
temperance. and is well provided with house room and
conveniences for the accommodation of strangers and
Conrad Swart,. James Long, Robert Hamilton. John
Vaughan. Jonas Rumple. John H. Edwards, Roh't. Spear,
John Jacob Luttman. John Lowrey, Peter say
tor. J. W. Cottrell, Isaac Vaughan, J. 11. Hunter.
March 4, Iti49-st
Tuxs—" FrOM Greenland's Icy Mountains..
From Greeceland's :ley fountains,
From Texas' sunny strand,
Where bears and catamounttuns
Creep slyly o'er the sand ;
And from each ancient river,
And o'er each palmy plain,
There's physic to deliver
Our bow-ow-els from pain.
Shall man, the reasoning biped,
The favored from on high,
Shall be to man begriped
The appeasing pill deny
Ye noble BRAGG ! Oh. Peters!
Long may your physic stand,
Till fevers and musketers
Are pur-ged from the land.
Waft, waft, ye winds their physic !
And you, ye waters roll—
Till every one that is sick
Is cured. from pole to pole;
Till to an ailing nation
Blest health come again
And over all creation
In bliss returns to reign.
From !he New Monthly Magn,nte
It is a very extraordinary thing, Susan, that the
laundress never will send home my things right.
Every week there is sure to be some mistake.
I'm sure I'm very sorry, mem! I always de
sires her to be so particular.'
She seems to pay no attention, then, to what
you say to her. Last week she lost one of my
best cambric handkorchiefa; the week before she
could not account for that pretty fichu, and now
there's another article missing.'
Indeed, mem! Why, I counted the linen over
when it came hntne, and it quite agreed with the
bill. I'm sure the number was all right.'
• The number—yes—perhaps sot—but what do
you call this . 2 This thing certainly can't be mine.
It looks as if it belonged to a man !
'Good gracious me, mem, and so it does! Well,
I never! As sure as I live, it's a gentleman's—
wlint's-hismame. How could it have got there 1'
' Through the woman's carelessness of course.
Look at it, Susan, and see if there's uny name or
mark upon it, that you may discover whose it is.'
• Oh deur me, mem, I should not like to touch
it. I knows nothing about. gentlemen's wearing
You know my things from other people's, I
hope. Stuff and nonsense, do as tell you. I dare
say it belong's to the person's husband.'
'Oh no, mem, that it can't. They're very poor
people, mem. He couldn't afford to wear anything
half so good as this. Look at the fineness of the
!inning, mem, and then the frill is real Bristles
lace !'
Indeed !--it's marked, I suppose ?'
' Ob, yes, mem, here in the corner. Grncious
goodness, if it ain't a crownet most beautifully
worked, and the letter N under it. To think of
that !'
A coronet, indeed and the letter N Do you
know who she washes for ?'
Oh dear me, no, inem—f never asked such a
NVell, make n point of asking now. Take the
thing away, and be sure you desire Mrs. Jones—if
that's her name—to take it back directly, and send
home my proper garment. It's perfectly ridieu
The above colloquy took place one morning in
the dressing room of Mrs. Trevelyan, a very pretty
young widow who occupied the first and second
flours of .53 Harley.street. In early life—when
barely eighteen—she had made a marriage fie eon
renanre, or rather it had been made for her, fur
she had no voice in the matter, an uncle, upon
whom she depended, being the sole arbiter of her
fate. The gentleman who espoused tier, in spite
of his sixty years, and disparities not leas remark
able than age, looked forward to a long life of hap
pineal' with the beautiful Ethelinda Maltravers ;
and such was the charm of her disposition, and the
natural sweetness of her temper, that he might nut
perhaps have been deceived, but for one of those
accidents to which flesh is unfortunately heir to,
and which grow thicker round our path as it draws
nearer to the goal: the fact is, he died one day of
influenza, after a brief union of a little more than a
That be was sincerely attached to Ethelinde,
the manner in which lie disposed of his property
made sufficiently clear. He left her sole executrix,
and the succession consisted of a fine landed estate
in Devonshire, and the sum of twenty thousand
pounds in the Three per Cents. But Mrs. Treve-
Iyan did not come into the property without oppo.
sition ; the will was disputed by the nearest niale
relative, and a law-suit was the consequence. This
was the cause of her being in a temporary rest.
dente in London at the time when the preceding
conversation occurred, for had she consulted tier
own inclination, tier footsteps would never have
wandered, in the month of June, from her beautiful
groves and gardens at Torcombe in spite of the
attractions of the London season. In London,
however, she was; and much of tier time was
taken up in interviews with lawyers and men of
business, so that, except a late drive in the park, or
an occasional party to dinner, or at the opera, Mrs.
Trevelyan saw little of the gay life in which she
was so well qualified, both by nature and accom.
plishments to shine. Of the claimant to her late
husband's estates, she knew nothing more then
that he was a young man of rank, who, like many
of his class, was in want of money to meet ex
pensea and relieve incumbrances, and she believed
he was abroad, though probably hastening home.
ward, as the period drew near for bringing the
lawsuit, in which lie had embarked by the advice
of friends, to a close. Though naturally unwilling
to forego all the advantages of her position, which
she had gained by her own exemplary conduct,
and conscious at the same time that her retention
of Mr. Trevelyan's bequest was no ruinous depri.
vation of the rights of the next heir, Ethelinde
would willingly have agreed to an amicable coin
proMise, by the advance of any reasonable sum of
money to meet the alleged necessities of the young
nobleman, tier antagonist. But the affair was so
entirely in the hands of the lawyers that no oppor
tunity offered of propoaing terms to the principal,
and, moreover, Mrs. Trevelyan was so uncertain
of his 'whereabouts,' that she could find no direct
means of communicating with him.
Matters were, therefore, left to take their course.
Select Laic.
Half:past seven was striking by the clock 4
St. James' Church, as Lord Norham dismounted at
the foot of the steps leading into the Albany-in
Piccadilly. After glancing pleasurably at -the
beautiful thorough-bred bay which he had ridden,
and examining with some care, one of the animal's•
shoulders, which seemed less glossy than the rest
of his coat, Lord Norham patted the 'poor fellow'
on the neck, and with a word of instruction, con
signed him to his groom, and went in to dress for
This,' he said as he walked towards letter D.,
where he was housed in a friend's chambers—.this
is one of the great discomforts of civilized life!
To be compelled to put on a formal dress for tho
hours which offer the greatest enjoyment: to case
one's self up in a starched cravat and stiff coat,
when inclination would lead one rather to throw
both aside. These are amongst the penalties One
must pay for living in the society of great cities.
Oh, the unspeakable comfort of wearing the loose,
say robe of the East, or the neglige of the shores
of the Mediterranean! Oh, the delicious nights
on the rooftops of Damascus, on the deck of my
owyt,Gulnare, or in the patois of Grenada! What
a contrast to the fettered existence to which I have
been compelled to return! Bin, unluckily, one
can obtain nothing in this world without money,
and money I certainly want. I wish I could have
lingered through another winter at .Malta, in
Greece, in Sicily, in dearest Naples—anywhere
rather than have returned borne, though it is the
season ! But those friends, those friends—who
will take greater care of your interests than you
do yourself, and who make you follow the customs
of the world, accusing you of apathy, disregard of
aelfrespect, and want of consideration for others,
if you fail to adopt their views or act up to their
wishes ! But for them I should never have enter.
cd into this troublesome law-suit. What did it
signify to me to whom my old cousin, Trevelyan,
left his money? lie had a right to do as lie liked
with it, fur he made the greater part of it in India
by the sweat of his brow. And, forsooth, because
he succeeded to a landless house—all his patrimo
ny—and made it, by his 'wealth, the centre of a
large estate, the lawyers must interpose and say
that the nearest of kin has a claim. Not that I
should have the slightest objection to his property,
if he had left it to. me in his will ; on the contrary,
for it would have prevented me from doing what,
most likely, I shall be obliged one day to do, mar
ry an heiress for the sake of her money; but I
hate the bore of a law-suit, ripping up all one's
private concerns, and laying them open to the
staring public, besides a world of misconstruction
as to conduct and motives. I know nothing of
Mrs. Trevelyan, but from what I have heard, she
always conducted herself very well, and to say the
least of it, she deserved some compensation for the
sacrifice site made in marrying a man sa old and
yellow as my uncle. They say, too,,eghe is very
pretty; it's the money makes the people say that,
I'll be bound. I'd lay a. heavy wager she is not
half so lovely as that fascinating creature who was
so frightened to-day in the Park. I wonder who
she can be ! The carriage had only a simple ci
pher on the panels, and the servants were in the
plainest possible livery, but she is certainly some
body ! So much beauty and such dignity of man.
nor cannot belong to a parvenu. It was lucky I
rode up as I did, or that stupid coachman would
decidedly have upset the carriage into the Semen
tine. I was afraid Conrad had hurt his shoulder,
as he rushed past the tree into the water, but we
got off with a few plunges and splashes. She
looked pale, certainly, but when she smiled her
thanks, her color came back, and even my own
loved Damascus roses are nut brighter than the
glow on her check.'
Lord Norham had by this time reached his apar
ments, where his attentive valet-de.chambre, an
Italian, who had travelled with him for three years,
was in readiness for his toilet. The young noble.
man, in a somewhat abstracted mood, proceeded
with his task but his obstruction was not so great
as to prevent him from making a sudden exclama
tion, when he got about half way through the
Why, what the devil's this, Antonio?' he cried
out, abruptly: 'l'm not going to a masquerade
' Milor ejaculated the astonished valet.
' Yes, you may well stare; see here! Why,
it's something you must have picked up in the Le
vant. What a ridiculous shape ! It looks as if it
were made for a woman !' And Lord Norham, as
he spoke, displayed a very delicately-wrought arti
cle of raiment, of the finest linen, with a frill run
ning round the top, of the most transparent cam
bric, edged with the richest Valenciennes lace. It
was, moreover, curiously cut,' so as to give a very
graceful contour to the upper part of the garment,
and a little way down in the centre appeared two
small crimson letters.
'Corp° di bacco!' exclaimed the Italian, who
was a married mrtri, though he led a bachelor's
lire ; a una carnicia da donna!'
'A camicia, is it! How the deuce did it get
here? You didn't open Mr. Percival's wardrobe
by mistake? that, perhaps, would have accounted
for it.'
`No, Milor! I could do no such ting, for de
Signore Percival take his keys along vid him ven
he lend your lordship his slumber.'
How came it here, then 7'
Upon my V r•.A
!..Upon my vord, rnilor, Ido not know. Perhaps
de lavandaja shall have make some mistake, and
send you home some lady's dress instead of your
Well, you must see about it. Meantime give
me something that I can wear. Curious, to send
me such a thing, and ynu not take any notice of it !
It's very fine looking stuff?'
'Oh. yes, milor, I never° see noting finer, and
my vile, she have a great dea.i to do in this way at
'Atter all, the shape is a very pretty one. I
wonder who the owner is! I thought I saw some
initials ; what are they 7'
Eccole, due, lettro !—two letters, E. T., and
some figures, a 2 and a 4.'
'E. T. 24 !' mused Lord Norham; 'I wonder
who she is? It would be worth while trying
to End out. I say, Antonio,' he continued, as he
finished the bow of his cravat—for in spite of his
objections to modern costume. Lord Norhatn piqued
himself on the skill of his tie, an accomplishment
really acquired at Oxford—' make a point of asking
the laundress what the lady's name is, end, do you
hear, don't send the camicia back till I tell you.
I shall recollect, milor,' returned Antonio, with
a s:nile. Your lorship's cab is at de door.' And
in a rev seconds, Lord Norham was whirling
through the streets, on his way to Grosvenor
Square, the images or pretty women and wetly
garments contendinglor mastery over .he claims of
salmis and supreme'.
The Duke of Derbyshire gave a concert that
night at Derbyshire House, at which all London
was present. Ethelinde was amongst the guests,
chaperoned by her aunt, the Honorable Mrs. Rush.
worth. It was the first Brent party she had been
to since she came to town, for she had refused to
go out generally, pendenie life, but Derbyshire
House is an exception to all rules; no one refuses
to go there. It is not merely on account of the
fashion which the dukes virtues confer, the.posi
five agremens which they offer, nor the kind and
courteous welcome given by the noble host to his
guests, though these are nowhere to be met with
in so great a degree, but. because there is a charm
about then., the secret of which has neser yet been
discovered, which so completely distinguishes them
from all others. At Derbyshire House, the light
has no glare, the music no noise, the flowers
breathe perfume only ; every one smiles naturally ;
there is no gene, no crowd; all wear an spect of
happiness; and as far as society alone can make
people happy, they are co there.
In spite of the uncertainty of her position, .Ethe.
Linde also felt happy. She was young and beauti.
ful, and the buoyancy of youthful spirits drove back
those phantoms of the future which are ever draw
ing near to deform the prospect with their gloomy
shadows. But here, though she knew it not then,
was an incomplete happiness, for she had not yet
known the pain of loving, and until that pain be
felt, happiness is merely an image reflected in a
mirror. Was she destined to remain long in this
state of ignorance 'I A few minutes decided the
After listening with rapture to strains of the
most exquisite music, Mrs. Rushwortli and Ethe
linde left the concert room, to wander through the
range of beautiful saloons which extend on either
hand, admiring at every step some charming pie
lure, some perfect piece of sculpture, or some work
of art, as rich as it was rare. They had nearly
completed the tour, when their progress was slightly
obstructed by the tall figure of a young man, who
was leaning thoughtfully in a doorway. The rust
ling sound of their dresses, however, recalled his
attention, and he drew to one side to allow them to
pass. In doing so. he turned toward them. and, to
Ethelinde's surprise, she recognized the gentleman
who had come to her assistance that afternoon in
the park, and lie beheld the lady of whom, in spite
of himself, he had since then been constantly think
Mrs. Trevelyan could do no less than bow in re
cognition of the service he had performed, and it
was at least a necessity on the part of Lord Norham
to speak.
I hope,' he said, 'you have not sufFnred from
the flurry—l suppose I must not say fear—which
your unruly horses excited to-day ?`
• Oh, you are right to think I was afraid,' replied
Ethelinde, earnestly, 'for really the situation seem
ed dangerous.'
I dread, then,' Lord Norham smilingly returned,
lest my ignorance or awkwardness should have
contributed to your alarm.'
• On the contrary, I feel perfectly certain that, if
you had not seized the horses' heads, the carriage
would have been overturned. It was very kind to
venture so much for n mere stranger.'
That was a common impulse, though accident
summoned me to do what I would most have pre
ferred. But, alter all, in society—in the world—
there are no strangers. It was decreed by fate that
I should meet you here to-night; the same thing
would have happened bad we both been in Rome
or in Cairo.'
Are you so much au predestinarian?' laughing.
ly asked Ethelinde. Does nothing happen but
what is pre.ordained 1'
Nothing—of consequence.'
But what can be more inconsequential than this
casual encounter?'
' Perhaps only that of this afternoon.'
' Nay, there you are wrong. I should bo very
ungrateful if I ranked them equally'
Forgive me—l ought not to have implied any
doubt ; but do not fall into the error of overestiina.
ting the very trifling service I was so fortunate as
to render you.'
Your Creed of fatalism does not,'T hope, exclude
gratitude from the list of voluntary efforts.'
' It would be presumptuous to assign it so much
scope. Fute only prepares the wny ; it disposes of
those accidents which are material ; the mind ac
complishes the rest.'
flint is not the mind, according to your theory,
predisposed ?'
Yes—to the reception of a particular theme ; tint
the same cause often produces very opposite effects.
It is like sowing an unknown seed. The earth
fructifies every germ alike, whet her the plant which
is to spring from it be sweet or bitter, a remedy or
a poison.'
You have examined these things seriously.—
Where have you studied ?'
` In the East; not always in solitude, but. often
far from the haunts of men.'
You have travelled much, then 7'
'I have seen many places, and some varieties of
mankind—but not enough for the purpose which
originally impelled the to travel.'
And you have returned with your object unac
complished 1 What caused you to relinquish their
pursuit ?'
I believe,' said Lord Norham, looking intently
ut Mrs. Trevelyan. 'yes. [ am sure it was fate!'
The Honorable Mrs. Ftu.bworth most have been
a lady endowed with great good nature, or a very
rare patience, to have allowed this colloquy to en
dure without offering to interpose a word; but there
are limits even to feminine forbearance, and now
she spoke
I see,' she said, 'you are arguing in a circle; be
sides, the duke is looking round him, a sign that
the music is about to recommence. Come, Effie
node, let us go to the concert room.'
Lord Norham bowed to Mrs. Trevelyan's grace
ful inclination as she passed on; I am not sure,
even, that their eyes did not meet; but he did not
attempt to follow—at least, not then.
Who is your new acquaintance, Ethclinde
inquired Mrs. Ilushworth ; be can only have just
returned from abroad, for I don't think I ever met
him before.'
*I am as ignorant as you, aunt, who my de
liverer is, and you know also as muck of my ad
'He is a very distinguished looking person, at all
events,' said Mrs. Rushworth.
Ethelinde thought he was even something more,
but she said nothing.
When the carriages were called that night, there
was at least one attentive listner in the hall with
many pintas; and it was not without a thrill of
pleasure, as he handed Mrs. RusliwOrth and her
fair companion to their brougham, that Lord Nor.
ham heard the footman give tho word Fifty.
three, Harley street.'
When Lord Norham woke on the morning after
the concert, the first word which he uttered wa■
Ethelinde,' and a long sigh followed the exclama
Antonio, who was in the room, busied about
his usual avocations, hearing his master stir, pre.
Burned that he spoke to him, and therefore address
ed hint:
Milor is awake?' He received no answer, but
continued, I have got some news about dat cami
cia. I have discovered to whom it belong—a very
nice lady! very beautiful, very rich !'
'ls that you Antonio? What are you talking
about 7 I wish you would hold your tongue!'
• Oh. very well. osi lor. I only thought your lord.
ship would be glad to know about do camicia.'
• Hang the comicia,' said Lord Norham rather
petulcntly; 'what can it signify to me whose it
• I knew vere dc lady live, milnr.•
•And I care nothing about it. If he could tell me
what I do want to know: he muttered, ' it would
be something to the purpose.'
,e ,
'La lavandaja—de vashingvoman—have been
here lste last night, miles, and she tell me de owner
of de chemise live at Nombare Fifty-tree, Harlay
What du you say?' cried Lord Norharn. start
ing up in his bed, with a degree of energy that
astonished even the trained Italian, • where?—
Antonio repeated the intimation
' Make haste,' said Lord Norham, "give me my
dressing gown. Stay, stay, you were speaking of
the camicia ; you have not sent it back. I hope
• Certamente no, milor. Your lordship say I was
to keep him till furder ordares.'
• True—and you have it here V
' Yes, milor:
Bring it me, directly.'
The order was promptly obeyed ; and to any one
but a native of a southern clime, accustomed to ve
hement demonstrations, the eagerness with which
Lord Norh a m seized the garment, and the thousand
kisses lie imprinted on the unconscious linen, would
have been matter for never-ending astonishment.—
An English valet would have thought of his own
safety, or—if he had been awake to it—of a com
mission of lunacy. Antonio merely waited to see,
how long the passion would last—it was not qUelt.
ly over.
' Ethelinde! Ethelinde!' exclaimed Lord Nor
barn yen, here is the dear initial, E. But what
does the other letter mean ? T!—T ! I heard the
name of Rushworth—• The Honorable Mrs. Rush
worth'—thut, 1 suppose was her mother. Well, it
may be so, still: her daughter by a first marriage—
no doubt of it. What grace! what beauty! I
never thought that English women could be so
supremely lovely! I must find out all about her.
I don't think she is engaged—she did not look as if
another occupied her thoughts. Well, this lawsuit
has led to something that the lawyers who devised
it never dreamt of. It may take its own course for
what I care, provided I can once more see my
own, my dearest Ethelinde!'
But the law is more prosaic than even lovers
imagine. and Lord Norham was scarcely dressed
before he received a letter from Essex street, in
forming him it was absolutely essential to his in
terests that he shonld attend that morning, et ele.
ven o'clock, to meet that eminent counsel, Mr.
Scatterdust, to discuss finally the question of the
succession to the estate of the late Mr. Treeelyan.
The letter was signed 'Gabriel Quirk,' and prayed
his immediate attention.
• Whet an infernal bore!' he exclaimed as he
threw down the missive ; • I suppose I must attend
—indeed, I may as well go there as any where
else, at such an early hour. or course, she is not
up yet. Antonio, desire Stevens to be here with
the cab at a quarter to eleven, and let me have sonic
We leave Lord Norham to discuss his meal with
such appetite as love has left him, and return to
Harley street.
It was twelve o'clock, and Ethelinde had not yet
left her boudoir,though she had been up some hours,
and the restlessness which haunted her couch put ,
sued her when she quitted it. She had tried to read,
but could not fix her attention on the page, and
now she sat at an open secretarie, with paper before
her and a pen in her hand, but her thoughts refused
to flow, or wandered from the subject of her intend
ed correspondence. Absorbed in a reverie, which,
to judge by the sweet serenity of her features, ap
peered a happy one, she had suffered some one to
tap twice at her door unregarded, but the third
knock roused her attention, arid she bade the in
truder come in.
It was Susan, and her countenance bore the
signs of recent excitement, for her color was high,
and her eyes sparkled.
•• What is the matter, Susan ?' asked Mrs. Trevol
yen. calmly.
• I begs your parding, mem, but I never heard
tell of anything like it. To go for to keep a harti
de of dress like that, and then refuse for to restore
it when perlitcly basked, is one of them things as I
can't bring myself to understand, he positively üb
keg to send it back, mein !'
'To send what back, Susan 1 I really don't
know what you mean.'
• Why, tnem, it's all about your apparel, mem.—
I scolded the laundress finely yesterday, nod she
promised to do her best to find it. She knew at
once who the other thing belonged to—a young no
bleman as is living in the Hnlbany—and in the
evening she went there and saw my lord's wally.
de.shain, and said as how she supposed there was
some mistake, end that the linning had got mixed.
At first he said, in his gibberish, for Mrs. Jones
says he is ono of them mad forriners, that he didn't
know nothing at all about it, but Mrs. Jones says
he was a lurfin when he spoke, which convinced
her that he know'd where to set his ands on it, and
he begged he'd be so good as to look, for that the
lady was in want of the hartiele.'
• That was very ridiculous,' said Mrs. Trevelyan,
blushing as she spoke. •I wish you would finish
the stupid story.' lam sorry I ever mode any in
quiry upon the subject.'
• Well. mem, Mrs. Jones was only a-doing of
what she thought her duty, for I'd said to her,
' Mrs. Jones,' says I, • don't let. me see your face
again without that there end so she went again
to the HAlbany, and taxed my lord's wally with s
having of it; for she'd been round to every one as
she washes for, and know'd it couldn't be nowhere's
else ; and what do you think, niein, was the hanser
as the himperdent teller give her P
• Dear me! how can I possibly tell?' To think
of having one's thoughts disturbed by such non
sense as this!'
He said, mem—it's as true as I stand here—
my lord, mem—had locked it up in his own buro,
and that ho was ordered to pay for it, for that
it wouldn't be given back to nobody but the
• I never heard of anything so absurd! And did
she really come away without it ?'
'She was forced to, mem. But she wouldn't give
up the ether thing, no how, mem. The wally
larfed and joked in his forrineering manner, and
said, as how it was of no use to you, mem, and
that she'd much better give it up, for he wanted to
wear it his-self, as he was a.going to the hopperer
this heavening; but Mrs. Jones couldn't be
ed to, and so the trumpery hatticie is come back
again, mem!'
' I must say, I think it very singular conduct,'
observed Mrs. Trevelynn, compelled by the strange.
ness of the affair to take some notice of it. • Have
you any idea of who this young nobleman is? not
that it is of any use knowing; indeed, it would be
better not to be acquainted with his name, except
to avoid him if one happened to meet him.
'Oh, yes. mem—Mrs. Jones knows; she did
mention it to me, but I never pays no attention to
gentlemen's names ; I can ask her again, mem, for
she is down stairs now.'
Susan departed on her errand without any op.
position from her mistress, and presently returned
with the required information.
'Gracious me! Would yon believe it? It's as
true as I live, but the gentleman, mom. is young
Lord Dlnrham. poor Mr. Ttevelyan's nephew.'
• Lord Norliam !' said Mrs. Trevelyan. in astonish
ment. • Impossible, Susan; Lord Norharn is not
in England!'
' Oh, yes, mem—he is; he came home about ten
days ago: the wally said it was very sodding, for
they was in Italy, Rome, and Naples only, it might
be about a month since.•
That accounts then,' said Mrs. Trevelyan, to
herself, • for Mr. Quillet's desire that I should re
main in town. Lord Norham carries on a strange
sort of warfare; he not only seeks to deprive me of
my estate, but lays violent hands on my personal
effects. What can be mean by it 1 Order the car
riage, Susan ; as soon as I am dressed I shall go to
Mrs. Rushworth'e
Lord Norham's groom had dismounted, and was
crossing the pavement to knock at No. 53, Harley
street, when a pretty brougham (a brougham is
pretty sometimes, despite the association) drove up
to the door. Lord Norham recognized not anly
the mazarine blue carriage, and the spirited cream
colored horses that drew it, but caught a glimpse
of their fair owner; and recalling his servant, leapt
lightly from his saddle, and approached the car
riage window.
• I don't know how I find myself here without
invitation,' he said; but lam fairly caught in the
act. I wished to pay my respects to—to,' he hesi
tated for a moment, and then, with an effort.
brought out, 'Mrs. Ilushworth.'
-- "Ethelinde saw his artifice, and smiled.
My aunt,' she replied, 'does nut live here. I
have just come from her house in Grosvenor street.'
Lord Norham appeared to take no notice of the
Allow me,' he said, 'to assist you from your
carriage, and,' he added, in a subdued but earnest
tone, to explain the motive of tny appearance.
Ethelinde bowed gravely, accepted his proffered
hand, and they entered the house together. When
they reached the drawing-room, she took a chair
near one of the windows, and motioned to Lord
Norham to sit down also, for she felt too much agi.
tated to speak.
He did not, however accept the invitation, but
stood for a few moments, irresolute, as if uncertain
how to commence a conversation which lie had
sought in so unusual a manner. At length lie
spoke: --
I am sure,' he began—' that is—l hope—you
will forgive the step I have taken, in presenting
myself before you without an introduction ; but the
truth is, I expected to have been able to plead as
my apology, a friendship which I formed in the
East with a relation of Mrs. Rnshworth. Had I
known to whom I was speaking last night, before
the party broke up, I should not have been placed
in this awkward predicament.'
'You have characterized it rightly,' returned
Ethelinde, with some degree of coldness; the atria.
tion is, at least, peculiar.'
I am afraid,' said Lord Norham, advancing a
step nearer—' I am afraid I have offended you,and,
heaven knows, that is the last object of my
thoughts; but, what shall I say—l could not resist
the temptation of making an inquiry after you this
morning, particularly when I mad led to believe
that you were the sister of the Wit who saved my
life as I was travelling last year between Beyrouth
and Damascus.'
. Indeed exclaimed Ethelinde ; were you the
Englishman whose escort fled when attacked by a
party ut Bedouins in the Lebanon, and whom my
cousin Charles was so fortunate as to rescue ? He
wrote to us about the adventure, but, with the care
lessness that marks everything he does, never told
us who he had assisted, contenting himself with say
ing, that it was a feature of life in the desert which
had led to very agreeable consequences.'
. It was no other titan myself to whose aid he carne
so opportunely, or I might not have lived to tell the
story ; though, after all,' and this was said with an
accent of bitterness—' life is, perhaps, a questionable
'Surely not,' observed Etheliddc, 'if it enables
us to render any, the slightest service to our fellow
• But my life, I fear,' said Lord Norham, is des
tined to be a torment to others, even against my
will. At this very moment, while lam speaking
to you, I am in the act—passively, it is true—of in
flicting a most serious injury upon a person whom
I have never seen, and whom, moreover, 1 have
every reason to respect.'
But you are not such a fatalist as to believe that
you have not the power of preventing yourself
from doing wrong ?'
'Certainly not, in my own person, but there are
circumstances when ono is compelled to allow
others to act for one.'
I can conceive no combination of events so
compulsory as to make one act against one's own
conscience, either in person or by deputy—that i■
to say, if you entertain feelings such as you de.
Lord Norham gazed intently on the animated
speaker, and her words fell on his car with the
conviction of tr uth.
• You are right,' he said, • and whatever it coats
me, I neither will bo a wrong-doer mystlf, nor suf
fer wrong to be done in my name. It will, at any
rate, console me for the brevity of this interview.
which I fear will be my first and last ; for,' he con
tinued, with a melancholy accent, ' I must none
more be a wanderer.'
• Yon will not leave—that is—quit England,
without allowing my aunt to make the acquaint.
ante of her son's friend, without'—she hesitated—
'without giving me the satisfaction of knowing who
it was that rendered me an essential service, to
whom I . am indebted, perhaps, for my life,
• And have I been so utterly forgetful of all the
laws of courtesy as to continue anonymous ?
Heavens! yes. I gave my card to my groom to
deliver at the door, and forgot that you could not
have received it. My name is Lord Norliam.`
Had a mine been suddenly sprung in the draw
ing room, Ethelinde could not have been more
astonished than by this announcement. She
started to her feet, and became pale and red by
turns, as the various thoughts which that name
excited awoke rapidly within her. She beheld at
the same moment the enemy of her social position,
whose success would involve her in comparative
ruin, the bizarre young man who had acted so ri.
diculously about the disputed garment, and—she
could not disguise it from herself—she saw before
her one who evidently regarded her with no com
mon interest. That she was perfectly unknown to
him, seemed quite certain, for he had mistaken her
for Mrs. Rushwortles daughter, but then what could
have made him act so absurdly in other respects 7
He surely did not mean to speak to her on the sub
ject! Tho bare idea made her feel es if she were
about to sink into the earth ; she would rather have
lost a thousand law•«nits than have run the risk of
this unhappy restitution. Amazement, fear, mist.
trust—so many contending emotions were imprint.
ed on her countenance, that Lord Norham gazed
on her in mute wonder. Ethelinda felt the embar
rasament of their mutual position, and made an
cif:in to recover herself.
• I was so unprepared,' she said, • so surprised to
hear yonr lordship's name, that—that—.l beg yea
will excuse me'—and she leant against her chair
(or support.
• Gracious heaven!' he exclaimed, • what is the
matter 7 What have I unfortanately said to cause
this alarm 7' and he took her hand as she spoke:
• Ton will understand all,• replied Ethelinde.diss
engaging herself, • when I tell you that I—.4m-sae
widow of the late Mr. Trevelyan
It was Lord Norham's turn to be astonished, but
his astonishment soon gave way to rapture. Etite.