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U C. Pi. IIANLEITER.
[p © i T K T.
CARELESS WORDS.
Many a tender tie is broken,
Many a gentle heart Uis-tressed,
J]y a careless sentence spoken,
Spoken only as a jest;
Though a power of easy wielding,
Such as passion can invoke,
Ami the chords of love are yielding.
They, thus smitten, may be broke.
Two fond eves into each other
Though they mutely gaze awhile,
May, by half-feigned coldness, smother
Sparks that kinetic up the sai.ie j
Tistoo dangerous to trifle
With so dc’icate a thing,
When a single breath may stifle
True affection's gushing spring.
gS LE © T IE P TALE So
From the New Mirror. j
THE DISCARDED.
PART THE SECOND.
The young Itnlian had teceived a joyful ■
welcome from oat h member of Mr. Trevor's
household, and was uniibimly treated with
kindness by all. save the two boys, Walter i
ami Basil ; who were', perhaps, envious eif j
the superior strength ami agility displayed j
|,y the Indian, especially in all games per- j
t,lining to forest life. Onovvnhoo, however, j
whs ever taciturn and reserved, seldom de- I
lulling from the characteristic gravity tis his !
race, and never mixing in the spoils of hoy- j
linud, except to please the whims of the
little wayward (baity. The hahils of his i
fathers clung closely to him; and, imtwith- i
standing the instructions and earnest petstia- j
sinus of his present friends, “the Indian j
was an ! mliun still.”
In the meanwhile the days of childhood j
flitted away, now gay. now teatful; as the j
Ink soars to heaven, its wings gemmed with
the ilevvs of morning, or as rose-leaves seat- j
lentil by rain; and Gaitv, now no longer a j
child, was faced to” put oflfcliihli.-di things ” 1
Edith had already been sent to Boston,
t receive those advantages of education j
which could not be obtained at tbe (Stove ; i
mid ilit- time litnl now arrived when it ivw !
deemed advisable by her parents that Gaily \
also should go from home for the same pur- j
nnse.
Earewell, then, to frolic and mirth ! Poor 1
(I,lily ! with bursting heart, streaming eyes j
anil pouting lip. was obliged to clip down j
her buoyant spirits to the narrow confines nf
a school-room.
From this time, for a period of two or i
three yeats, the sisters only revisited their i
home at intervals of six or eight months.— j
daily retained ail her wild impetuosity of
character; and no bird, released from its j
wiry prison, ever winged its way with more !
gladness to its native woods than did Gnity |
upon these occasions fiy back to the ivell-re
membcred liaunts of childhood. Every
nook and dell Fell the pressure of her light
footstep ; the meiidow-bioiik again tnirtored
the bright, happy face of the maiden, and
once more the woods resounded with her
merry, ringing laugh.
Upon these occasions Gaily was seldom !
unaccompanied by Onowahoo; for her
brothers, Walter and Basil, felt no sympathy j
in the feelings of the young girl, scorning j
those scenes in which the heart of their sis
ter took such delight ; while, at the same j
time, they taunted and ridiculed her fond- j
ness for forest life ; styling her tlie “ Indian j
Princess of the Grove!” Edith, also justly :
alive to the beauties of nature, found full
occupation in assisting her mother in the
household duties. Thus Ga'.ly and Ono
wahoo were thrown much together.
High beat the heart of the young Indian
at those traits in Gaity’s character, so simi
lar to his own wild natute. He watched
her graceful form, bounding like a fawn
through the forest glades, and her speaking
animated his countenance with delight. Nor ;
is it to be wondered at that Gaity found a
pleasure in his society, which, unknown to
her innocent henit, constituted more than
half the charm of her daily rambles.
Edith was the first to perceive the un
happy results of this constant companion
ship and affinity of tastes. She was inex
pressibly shocked at the discovery, and
gently warned Gaity against indulging or
encouraging feelings so inimical to the hup*
pittess of both.
Crimsoned with blushes, Gaity, with a
wild laugh, kissed the pale cheek of her
sister, assuring her she need he under no
uneasiness, and then added, with a haughty
tune and sparkling eye, that if site did love
Onovvnhoo, she would rnther have a lodge
•a the wilderness with hem titan to reign
TJeett of England’s realm.
But this conversation with Edith removed
al once the veil which had wrapped her
heart in such blissful security, and, with
l|, ue feminine modesty, she now absented
herself almost entirely from the society of
Oiiotvahoo.
1 his sudden change of conduct was to
him as a death-blow ; for he at once divined
l hst she had discovered his daring love, and .
,lr >w avoided him from anger at his presump- ,
J, u, tt. He hoped to have buried forever his j
iatal attachment in his own breast, and thus
hecti able to enjoy, from day to dev, the
Melancholy happiness of beholding the ob
jectof his hopeless love; for never, evctHn I
lls wildest dreams, had he for a moment in-
JL WooMy MfSWfspsijpQir g ID)©w2;@dl 4© 3P©M4fi©s* How©, Ediiftajrsi'tar®* MsQlhsuniL© ©©isms®*, &© 0
dulged the thought that the fair daughter of
the proudest in the land, the beautiful child
of his benefactor, would love the lone Indi
an, or feel other than pity for his degraded
race ! Fearing now he had drawn upon
himself her indignation and contempt, he
resolved to depart silently from the Grove,
never to return.
It was but a few days after the painful
discovery ol (he true state of her feelings,
that Ga ty, pale and dejected, stole out alone
into the forest. She had not gone far when,
through an opening in the trees, she per
ceived Onowahoo approaching. His step
was heavy, his eyesdowncast, and his whole
manner plainly denoting the wretchedness
of his mind. He advanced slowly to with
in a few paces of Gaity, when, suddenly
raising his head, he saw the object of his
thoughts standing before him. He would
have turned, hut Gaity advanced a step to
meet him, and, in a voice of kindness, said :
“ Why is the countenance of rnv brother
so sad V’
Onowahoo for a moment gazed mourn
fully upon her, then, pointing upward, he
replied :
“As yonder cloud, now floating in the
heavens, will soon fade and vanish away, so
must Onowahoo depait from the presence
of the Sloe-blossom.”
In a Imv. trembling voice. Gaity answered:
“Would Onowahoo leave the Sloe-blos
som to droop alone in the forest! Where
would her brother go that Gaity might not
follow !”
A gleam of delight sparkled for an in
stant from the eyes of the Indian ; he then
replied ;
“ Onowahoo goes beyond the homes of
the pale face, that when his great Father
calls him, he tnay go to the happy hunting
grounds with his red brothers.”
“ What bitd has sung in the cars of Ono
wahoo !* Is the hand of my father closed?
Has the tongue of my mother spoken false,
or the Sloe-blossom turned away from her
brother, that he leaves her ?”
Onowahoo shaded his eyes with his hand,
and answered, with a low and mournful
tone :
“Onowahoo must no longer loo); upon the
Sloe-blossom.”
In a moment Gaity now comp ehetuled
the motives of the Indian. She made tn>
reply, while < Inowahoo turned sadlv to leave
her ; then, with a cjuiet dignity, foreign to
her usual manner, and determination speak
ing in evety feature, Gaity held out her
hand, saying, in a voice of firmness :
“ No, Onowahoo must not go alone! See,
the Sloe blossom puts her hand in his J”
1 he happiness of these unfortunate lov
ers was a dream too sweet to last; and hit
ler, indeed, were the scenes to which they
finally awoke.
Edith saw with grief her worst fears re
alized. Vainly did she warn her sister
against the wrath of her father and brothers,
should they discover hot attachment for
Onowahoo. Him she urged to fly immedi
ately from the Glove, to leave Gaity forev
er, and thus save Iter fmm the to t ihle indig
nation which she knew would await her;
but, notwithstanding all her cautions, all her
entreaties, the lovers wilfully shut their eyes
to the danger they were hourly incurring,
and, in one unguarded moment, ail w as dis
coveied.
Gaity attempted no concealment of her
feelings; but, with firmness and decision,
at once openly ackuow ledger! her love for
the Indian.
No words can paint the wrath of Mr.
Trevor, as he listened to the avowal. It
seemed as if that deep affection which had
ever been, as it were, the well-spring of his
existence, was at once suddenly and for ever
dried up, choked, obliterated ! The wretch
ed mother and Edith wept in agonv, while
Walker and Basil, with fury flashing front
their eyes, deeply reviled and insulted their
sister, who, with checks flushed with indie
. • . “|
nation, her form raised to its full height.
stood proudly in the midst, making no re
ply tp their insulting language, except by j
looks of the most perfect defiance. At
length, seizing her by the arm, her father
dragged her to her chamber, thrust her rude
ly within, and locked the door.
They went in search of Onowahoo.
“Dog! Indian! Slave! A way with you,”
cried Mr. Trevor. “Away! If, at the set- j
ting of the sun, you are found within the
limits of my land, your scalp, according to j
your own fashion, shall hang from the near- j
est tree!”
Onowahoo was about to reply, when Ba- |
sil suddenly approached, and raising his j
arm, gave the Indian a blow across the face.
The next instant he was prostrate on the 1
ground, the knee of the savage on his breast, j
and the knife already gleaming before his j
eyes. Mr. Trevor and Walter rushed upon |
Onowahoo, who, shaking them off with Her- j
culean strength, tlnew down the knife, and ,
stood, witli flushing eyes and dilated nostiils,
confronting his foes.
“ The knife of Onowahoo will not drink
the blood of a coward,” he said ; then,
turning to Mr. Trevor, he continued :
“ Chief, you were the friend of Monatuh
qun —you have been tbe friend of Onowa
-I,oo—it is written on his heart! There is
now a cloud on the face of tiie chief; hut
his words are laws to Onowahoo. His sha
dow shall not be on the land at the setting
of the sun.”
li is said the Indians called tale-bearers, or tlioie
who spoko falsely, “singing-birds.”
MADISON, MORGAN COUNTY, GEORGIA, FRIDAY MORNING, FEBRUARY 10, 1844.
So saying, lie walked slowly tnvav, find
soon disappeared in the depths of the forest.
For weeks the unhappy Gaity was kept
j a close ptisoner in her chamber; no person
was allowed to see her. Even the entren
| ties of her distressed mother or Edith could
not move the stern father to relent.
YY bile thus, for the first time, the harrr.o
----| ny of that happy household was broken
! by the tough band of discord, Edith receiv
ed a pressing invitation from a young fiiend
I in Boston, that she would officiate as brides
maid at her approaching nuptials. She
j would gladly have declined, but her parents
I both urged and insisted upon her going.—
Hoping the void created by her absence
! might induce her father to forgive her sister,
she at last consented. \\ ithout being nl
j lowed to bid poor Gaity farewell, Edith de
parted, bearing a heart of sadness, to scenes
where joy and happiness reigned.
Edith judged rightly. Mr. Trevor did,
indeed, miss the society of his daughters—
the gentle, lovely Edith, and that other
blight and joyous girl, whose presence bad
ever bet n to him as the morning star; and,
1 a few days after the departure of the fotm
; or, the door of Gaity’s chamber was unhnrr
j ed, and she was ltd forth to freedom. But
j it was sui h freedom as rendered the wails
I of her prison a heaven in comparison !
The cold and chilling looks of her father
fell like n blight upon her young heart,
crushing the germ of duty, which would
S have led her to have flown at or.ee to his
j arms, to implore his forgiveness. The
countenance of her mother, it is true, flush
| ed with joy ; tears started to her eyes, anti
I she would have folded the pale, heart-strick
j en girl to her maternal bosom, but a look
| from her husband “froze the warm current
| of her soul,” and she remained passive.—
There were her brothers also to greet her;
but how ! not with looks of pity and for
giveness, hut with
“ Hard atikimlness, altered cvr,
That mocks the tsar i: forced to flow
i and poor Gaity that night returned to her
I chamber, more miserable than when she had
left it.
) She threw open the window, and looked
forth, with tearful eye. upon the scene now,
like herself, so changed from the bright
spring-time of happiness—the sear and yel
low leaf had already fallen upon her young
heart. It was now November. The au
tumn leaves, w hose brilliant variegation bad
, draped the finest with such gorgeous mng
’ nificence, were now (fit epitome of the
I idle passions of mankind) whirling rapidly
i past her window, soon to mingle with the
clods of the valley. The moon was at her
! full ; w hile, at a little distance, the river,
i gleaming thtnogh the thick shtubbery on its
banks, spangled the datk outline of the for
est. Heedless of the chilly night-wind
which blew around her, Gaity remained for
some time absorbed in mournful revery,
when she was suddenly aroused by a slight
j rustling beneath het window, and, almost at
| the same moment, an arrow fell at her feet,
j Joy it radiated the face of the maiden, for
I well she knew front whose hand it sped !
; She hastily raised it—affixed was the ting
I she had given to Onowahoo! She now
! leaned from the window and looked eagerly
I mound, and soon discovered the form of her
1 lover reclining against a tree a few paces
distant. Gaity tepressed the cry of delight
which mounted from her heait to her lips,
hut, clasping her hands together, tears of
joy fell over her pale face.
A second artmv was now thrown in;
around it was a paper on which was writ tv i::
“ At midnight, Onowahoo, by the river
side, will watch for the Sloe-blossom. The
j canoe floats empty in the stream; a horse,
j fleet as the wild dear, paws the opposite
j shore. The ring will whisper “ yes” in the
| heait of Onowahoo,”
j Alas ! not a moment did the wretched
citl deliberate, but, with trembling fingers,
she once more fastened the ring to the or
j row, and dropped it from the window.—
I Onowahoo glided to the spot, and, as he re
; cognized the token of assent, he looked up
to the pale, beautiful face of Gaity, bending
J over him in love and truthfulness; then,
| sinking for an instant upon his knee, the In
dian pressed the ting to bis lips and ilisap-
I pcared.
| It is not surprising that the reserved and
\ apparent scorn she now met from those in
! whose eyes she had ever been worshipped
1 as nn idol, by whom she had been so ten-
I derly caressed, flattered, and indulged ; her
’ evety wish, however trifling, gratified ul
j most before it was expressed ; should have
filled the undisciplined heart of Gaity w ith
1 mingled grief and indignation. At that ]
| critical moment, when still writhing under
I the insulting looks of her brothers, the I
feigned indulgence of her father, canto
I Onowahoo, offering love—happiness—free- I
dom !
Her error was great ! So teas her tempt a- !
tion !
Oh, parents, beware how you treat the 1
first offences of inexperienced youth ! !
Crush not the hearts of your children w ith |
a brow of iron ; withhold not from their 1
repentant lips the kiss of forgiveness; nor I
I lei the tongue speak those “ bitter words
that hill!” No, rather take them to your j
arms in pity ; whisper of love and pardon ; !
and, as the gentle dew falls from hea
; veil to enrich and fructify the earth, so lei
1 the words of tender admonition sink into
the heart of your child, to nourish the seeds
of v:itue and good resolves.
The heart of a child must, indeed, be
formed of “ sterner stuff,” which can resist
the holy influence of that pardon hallowed.
‘• with tears from the lips of an aggrieved pa
| rent !
Had such been,the conduct of Mr. Tre
vor, what days of anguish, of misery beyond
description, would have been spared!
‘i oo much agitated to reflect upon tlie
momentous step she was about to take, Gai
ty hastily selected a few t nicies from her
wardrobe, changed her light dress for a
i traveling-habit, and, at the appointed hour.
stole softly down stairs. As she reached
I the door of her mother’s bed-room, she
stopped—her whole frame shook with emo
tion ; then the pang of remorse shot through
her bosom. Alas ! was she about to leave
forever that kind, affectionate mother, the
tender nurse of her infant years; that be
ing from whose lips no words but those of
kindness had ever fallen; tmd was she thus
to leave her ! Edith, too, that beloved sis
ter ! should she never more meet the glance
of those mild eyes, ever beaming with sis
terly affection ! Gaity trembled, her pur
pose faltered, and she would fain have re
lumed to her chamber; but, at that mo
ment, the stern, reproachful look of her fath
er seemed fixed upon her ! Again her enrs
seem poisoned w ith the contemptuous lan
guage of her brothers ! No longer did she
hesitate; but, softly unbarring the door,
fled swiftly along the path which led to the
river.
She had not proceeded far when she was
: joined by Onowahoo. They spoke not—
| but one look, as their eyes met, told all !
I the pain and suffering they had mutually
I endured, and the happiness of the present
moment.
1 hey soon crossed the liver, and sped
j swiftly on through the night. Soon alter
| daylight, they arrived at the little village of
YVesteily, on the borders of Rhode Island.
Here the fugitives deemed it necessary to
! tanv a short time, in order to recruit the
I almost exhausted strength of their panting
j steed.
It happened, unfortunately, that Walter
Trevor had left the Grove late on the pre
, vious afternoon, to attend to some law busi
ness in Stonington. A witness tesiding in
Westerly was required ; and YY r alter, there
i fore, rode over very early in the morning,
(a distance of five miles,) and arrived at the
inn only a few moments after the unfortu
nate love t a !
Then the storm burst in fury over their
heads!
Waltet, foaming with rage, instantly call
ed upon the authorities of the village for
) aid. Onowahoo was secured and strictly
I guarded as a runaway Indian; while Gaily
j was conveyed to a small room in the upper
Stoiy of the inn, Walter himself keepitig
guaul outside.
Itt the meanwhile, an express was sent
off to inform Mr. Trevor of the capture of
the fugitives. In a few hours the unhappy
j father, pale with rage and mortification, ar
rived, accompanied by Basil,
j A slant lime sufficed for their arrange
ments. Onowahoo was immediately sent
off, tmder*i strong guntd, to Boston, from
thence he was to lie shipped to the West
Indies, and there sold as a slave.
At that time Fisher’s Island was utiin-
I habited, unless it might he by the occasion
al visits of fishermen, and, for their conven
ience, a few rude shelters had been thrown
up near the water’s edge; but, in the inte
rior of the island, stood the remains of a
large building, said to have been occupied
by several families of whites, who had
fled thither, for security dut ing the Pequot
war; they were, however, at length discov
ered by the savages, and every soul inhu
manly murdered. Since then it had been |
uninhabited, and was fast ciumbling to de- |
cay. To this desolate spot did Mr. Trevor
resolve to bear his child ! YY’itl: a terrible j
oath, the infoiiated father swore lie would I
novel forgive her ; she had disgraced her
self and her family ; the proud name of j
Trevor was now indelibly stained ; and !
there, then, fur from the face of man, from
tin* sound of a human voice, should she for j
ever bury her shame ! f
Having decided upon this cruel course, !
YY -liter and Basil immediately left to ascer
tain the exact location of this miserable
building, and to furnish it with such articles
as might he necessary for bare existence,
taking with them, at the same time, an old, j
half-crazed woman, who for years hud roved j
at large in the neighothood, under the name i
of “ Crazy Nell.” Mr. Trevor procured
this woman to take charge of his daughter.
Asa reward, be poured into iierhand more
gold iliun hud ever yet met her greedy
grasp, while, at the, same time, he so
wrought upon the terrors of the miserable
woman should she refuse, or prove unfuith- ;
ful to the trust, that, cowed with fear, trem- !
bling as if she already felt tbe knife at her j
heart, Crazy Nell was borne off by the j
brothers, a companion for the young, beau- j
tiful, and noble-minded, but misguided ‘
Gaity! !
On the afternoon of the second day all .
was prepared; the wretched Gaity was
dragged from her piison, placed on horse- j
hack, and, with YValter and Basil riding !
close to her bridle-iein, the party set off to j
hear Gaity to her future gloomy abode.— i
Here the reader followed her at the com
mencement of this veritable story.
When Gaity recovered from the swoon,
into which it will he remembered she had
fallen, she found herself alone. A few wet
branches were smouldering in the fire-place.
A tallow candle flickered in fitful shadows
upon the wall, rendering the darkness even
more horrible. The wind bowled mourn
fully around, and the rain still poured in
torrents ; while, to add to the terrors of the
scene, a heavy peal of thunder now shook
the ruinous building to its foundation.
“Basil! YValter!” shiiekcd the poor
girl. But there was no answer. Her voice
sounded strange in that lone room. Again
she called—still tin answer. At last the
door slowly opened, and Crazy Nell, her
form bent nearly double, tottered into the
toorn. YY’itli a sort of half-dancing motion,
she advanced to the bed, while Gaity, af
frighted, shrank to the wall.
“ Did the little bird sing 1” cried the old
woman, fixing her glassy eye upon her.—
“ What will the ptetty birdie have 1”
Reassured by the kindness of her tones,
Gaity exclaimed, clasping her hands in en
treaty :
“O, tell me where 1 am 1 Where is Ba
sil ? YVhere YY’alter ?”
“ Gone—gone—gone-the brothers are gone,
And the birdie is left in iliccagi all alone !”
sang or rather screamed the hag.
“O, let me out quickly from this horrid
place!” shrieked Gaily, now overcome
with fear, springing from the bed and rush
ing to tho door.
“ Ha ! ha ! ha !” “laughed the old woman,
hobbling after her, “ fold your wings, pretty
birdie ;
“ Gone—gone—•gono—t he brothers are gone,
And the birdie is left in the cage all alone.”
The wretched girl sank neatly senseless
upon the floor, and gave herself up to her
misery. Crazy Nell seemed somewhat
moved by the heavy sobs which burst from
her sorrowing heart, and, after watching
her a few moments with apparent wonder,
she patted her gently on the head, saying,
“ Poor bird—poor bird /” and then, hob
bling away, seemed to busy herself in pre
j pat ing some refreshment for the exhausted
I girl. Her well meant kindness, however,
was vain, and, after an attempt to swallow
the morsel of food the oh! woman placed
before her, with despair at her heart, Gaity
threw herself upon the wretched pallet.
At length sleep, that angel of peace, who
in tenderness listens to the lamentations of
the afflicted, took her gently to hci bosom,
and she slept calmly until late the Allowing
morning. When she awoke the sun was
shining brightly in; hastily springing from
the bed, she flew to the window, and looked
out upon the scene. This window (and the
only one) was hoarded up, with the excep
tion of one solitary pane of glass, which
was directly over the deep ravine before
mentioned ; and the stream, swollen by the
lute storm, now brawled furiously over its
rocky bed. On every side she was sur
rounded by a deep forest, She attempted
to open the window ; it was fastened ; she
then tried the door—that was also secured.
At that nioree.nJLirom some dark corner em
erged Nell, gibbering, and dancing ns be
fore. Throwing herself at her feet, Gaily
implored her to release her; entreating her,
while the tears rolled down her cheeks,
that she would suffer her to quit that abode
of misery and desolation ; but although the
old woman appeared to comprehend, and
even sympathize in her grief, she only shook
her head, saying :
“ No, no, pretty birdie!” and then, as if
it might be a means to frighten her from her
wishes, added, in a voice of affected terror,
pointing to the woods, “ Indiun in the woods
—tale care /”
Gaity soon found nil attempts at escape
were impossible. What, then, was to he
her lot? YVas she brought there to die? —
No, it could not be; her father would re
lent ; she should be forgiven. Onowahoo,
too—yes, ihey should all be bappy once
more ! Such were the sunbeams which oc
casionally lit up the daik prison of Gaity.—
Alas, poor child !
At the end of a week, Gaity one morning
saw Basil approach tbe house. Uttering a
scream of joy, while she beat the window
with her little hand, she cried :
“ Oh, Basil, dear brother, take me away !
Take me to my mother ! Take me home—
home—home!'’ she shrieked, louder and
louder, as she saw him turn from the house.
Yes, that cruel brother, after depositing a
basket upon the door-stene, walked rapidly
away, without casting even one look to
where the pale despairing face nf Gaity
was watching him; and whose voice of
agonizing entreaty reached his eats, even
through the walls of her prison.
He disappeared. Then hope forsook the
heart of Gaity !
Every week cither Basil or YValter would
leave a basket of the coarsest provisions at
the door, never entering the house, or be
stowing either word or look upon the un
happy sister.
The place at last ivas reported to be j
haunted. Shrieks, groans, and horrid lough- !
ter were heard issuing thence, by fishermen !
whom accident had led thither. Some even i
went so far as to assert that those very
witches supposed to hare been executed near
ly a ccntuiy before, here assembled and
held their midnight orgies, in contempt of
fire and faggots ! YVliile by others it wus
believed a maniac was there confined in
chains!
VOLUME II,••••NUMBER 48.
At any into, the island soon hecamn de
serted, no one caring to approach its shores
after nightfall.
After leaving his daughter, as already de
scribed, Mr. Trevor returned home ; but it
was otilv to meet with anew and more *e*
vote trial. He found his wife in the ago
nies of death, She had leen for some time
[ gradually sinking tinder that fatal disease srt
incident to our climate—consumption; and
this sudden shock of her darling child's
elopement had caused the rupture of a
blood-vessel, and Mr. Trevor only arrived
in time to receive her last breath.
Great as was his grief at this sudden be
reavement of an amiable and beloved enm
p-mion, it lessened not bis wrath against bis
disobedient child. On the contrary, those
feelings seemed only to be augmented, and
again and again he cursed her, as the destroy--
er of her mother ?
Edith was still in Boston. Who should
break to her these heavy tidings—a mother 1
dead ! a sister banished ! As soon, howev
er, as the last sod rites were performed,
Mr. Trevor resolved to go himself and bring
Edith back to her desolate home. Accord
ingly, the next week he departed for Bos
ton, and soon returned with his child, now
his only comfort.
Absorbed in grief at the death of her’
kind mother, and at the uncertain fate of
Gaity, Edith moved mournfully around
those walls once echoing with the merry
laugh and song, now so silent, so dreary, as
if the shadows of the tomb already darken
t ed them.
j Who that has lost a near and dear friend
by death hut has felt that indescribable sieft
ness of hem t, which rends the ana) to agony,
as they view those scenes once halTowed by
the presence of that loved form, whom now
the dark portals of the tomb enclose!—
Scenes where the beloved one moved in
health and gladness ; the vacant chair by the
fireside, the seat left void around the family
board, the closed book, the favored flower,
the thousand nameless associations connect
-1 ed with those now lost and gone I Oh, does
I it not seem that the hand of death is alreia
■ <ly tenting our heart-strings; loosing ouv
i hold of this woihl, so glorious in itr gran
-1 dour and beauty, but where, alas! Death
! and Sorrow stalk side by side, plucking the
choicest treasures from our garnered afire
tions, and r uthlessly cutting down the lovely
flowers which adorn our garden of happi
ness.
Bitty, then, pool Edith 1 *
She mourned, as an affectionate child,
the death of a kind mother, whom on earfb
she should see n more—yet sainted, as she
believed, in heaven. But not for her did
siie weep those tears of bitterness ; not for
her was that silent grief gnawing at her
heart; no. it was for that other, her only
bloved sister, the discarded Gaity ; casLout
in her youth and loveliness, an alien forever
from her father’s house !
From neither her father nor brothers
could Edith learn anything concerning her;;
in vaiu she implored them to tell her where
the wiclched girl might be ; on her knees’
she begged to be allowed to go to her, but,
with a frown, and words such as he had
never before used to this gentle girl, Mr-
Trevor forbade her ever again to mention
the name of her sister, or, on pain of his*
lasting displeasure, seek to k*ow wlieio
she w as.
Nothing daunted, however, from her pur
pose, Edith resolved she would find her
sister or peish in the attempt. Feigning.,
therefore, the most perfect indifference as
to the fate of Gaity, (contradicted by her
pale cheek and sunken eye.) she no longer
mentioned her nanip, hut appeured to give
all her attention to the many household du
ties which now devolved upon her.
She soon noticed that, on a certain day of
every week, one of her brothers left tlie
Grove and remained absent during the day;
that no questions was ever asked, eithei as
to where they had been or of the business
which had called them thence. She watr
sure their absence was in some way con
nected wiih her ill-fated sister, and she re
solved, difficult as it might prove, to follow
them. For that purpose, she obtained per
mission of her futlier to pass the day with
a young friend, residing about a mile from
the Grove. This was the day she knew
one of her brothers would he absent: In
stead, therefore, of going to her friends, she
hastened to the cottage of one of her fath‘
er’s tenants, whom she knew to he strongly,
attached to herself end Gaily. To him she
unfolded her plan, and found in honest Jac
ques a faithful assistant:
As soon as Walter passed the cottage,.
Edith, disguised in a large cloak and bon
net, mounted behind the old man, and start
ed in pursuit; keeping, how ever, as far be
hind ns practicable. The same dreary road!
was passed over with which the leader* hr
already acquainted. Walter fastened his*
horse os before, while Edith and her com
panion, passing behind the shelter of some’
large rocks, watched his proceedings, die*
noise of their horses’ feet being happily
drowned by the roaring of theauifT
Wallet unmoored the Imat, and put oflTiry
the direction of Fisher’a Island. It wn.v
there, then, that the unfortunate girl Was n
prisoner, ft was, however impossible for*
them to proceed further; they, therefore.,
returned with oil speed.
Happy that her plan had so far proverb
successful. Edith determined, that, if jo*-