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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*-