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[Tor Tlie Sonny South.]
THE SHADOW ON TIIE HEARTII.
(Suggested by a risit to the Parents of Millard Seals.)
BY HERBERT FIELDER.
There's rniinic ringing in the halls
Of festive bands to-day;
There an* graceful steps and light footfalls
Of the beautiful and gay.
lint briny tears are stealing down
The cheeks that lately smiled,
And fate seems now on her to frown
Who uras bright fortune’s child.
Joy beams from many laughing eyes,
And tones of mirth and cheer
King out beneath the summer skies,
But have no charm for her.
A mother's tears are gushing now,
And ceaselessly they flow,
And shadows gather on the brow
Where radiance used to glow.
In church and halls of state the sound
Of eloquence is heard;
The world moves in its giddy round
As if no death were feared.
But manly tears are gushing fast
The father's grief to heal —
For blighted hopes and pleasures past
Which only he can feel.
There's beauty in the sky above,
Joy beams from every star;
There’s hope in Heaven’s eternal love,
Where all is pure and fair.
But heavenly tears inethinks do flow,
From angels’ eyes they come —
Tears not of pain, or grief, or woe,
But of glad welcome home.
[Written tor The Sunny South.]
FIGHTING AGAINST FATE;
OR,
Alone in the World.
IIV MART E. BRYAN.
CHAPTER XLII.
Late tea roses perfumed the little lawn in
front of Lone Star Cottage. The hedge of cape
jessamine that enclosed it was sprinkled with
snowy blooms, and upon the great bush near the
bow window of the parlor, larger and purer blos
soms held up their silver salvers to the dew and
moonlight of tho Indian summer night. One
standing there could hear within music and
voices conversing in tho well-modulated tones
of reliuod society.
“One more song,” pleaded a man’s deep
voice; “the song I first heard from your lips.
Do you not remember ?”
There was a pause of silence as though the
one addressed failed immediately to recall the
song or the time alluded to; then the sweet,
simple, mournful air stole out through the open
window and the almost breezeless leaves of tho
jessamine tree.
It ceased, ami the singer rose in the silence
that followed and came to the window. The
moonlight falling over her showed Esther’s
beautiful face, white as carved marble in con
trast to the mourning dress that enfolded her
slender shape. Berrien came and stood beside
her, dropping the curtain of the recess behind
him, so as partially to shut them cff from the
other occupants of the room, who resumed their
pleasant talk. The two standing in the low
window that reached to the floor and opened
upon the lawn, did not speak as they looked
out upuu-iho dew-glisti-u'ng flov/er beds and
drank in their odor, until Berrien, turning sud
denly to Esther, said:
“I must go away to-morrow; let me speak to
you one moment alone. Go down with me into
your rose garden and listen to what I must say. ”
At their feet were two marble steps that led
down into the tufted walk. After a moment’s
hesitation, she gave him her band, and when
they stood upon the ground and by the flower-
starred jessamine tree, he stopped, and looking
at her, said, with the tremor and eagerness of
passion in his tones:
“I have come here to-night, though your
manner almost forbade it—come to cast myself
at your feet in spirit if not in act, and kneeling
thus, to fasten upon your brow the crown of
pure womanhood I once denied you. Can you
forgive me that cruel wrong ? While I listened
to the poisonous whisper of suspicion, I sinned
against my own heart, that assured me you
were purest and noblest among women. You
can never know what torture it was to harbor
that suspicion, or the remorseful pain that min
gled with my joy when I knew that its only
foundation was the mblest, the bravest self sac
rifice ”
“Not noble or brave,” she said, interrupting
him. “ Do not speak of it in that way. It was
a mere loyal instinct. I could not make any
other return for the trust my poor brother re
posed in me—the love he gave me. But you
were not to blame for mistaking- for thinking
evil. I can forgive you easily enough.”
“Too easily, I fear,” he said, with his eyes
fixed upon her calm face. “It argues indiffer
ence, and I beg you will spare me that, for—I !
love you, I love yon, Esther. I have loved you
since that night upon the steamer, when your
voice unlocked with its silver key the inmost
chamber of my heart; and when afterwards j
your hand held hack my poor Cecilia from a su
icide’s grave. Yes, I loved you all the while.
It was this hidden love that fed the flame of sus
picion—that made it burn so fiercely anti burst j
out in bitter words from my pen when I wrote
in those days of solitude and consuming thought.
Did you not guess it? Did you not see it in our
newspaper controversy, underlying the cruel
words with which I tried to sting you—words
so framed that only your sensitive soul could
understand and apply them? Could you not
see that it was these two contending feelings,
love and distrust, that drove me into solitude,
made me hate the sight of women and shun
their company?”
“I did not surely suspect that you cared for
me.”
“I loved yon against my will. I could not
shake off your hold upon me. These are the
first words of love I ever spoke to a woman; par
don me if they are unpolished. Mine is a rug
ged, stubborn nature, but your sweetness, your
nobility of soul have subdued it. What I want
to say i's that I love you—that I beg you will for
give my fault of the past, and permit the devo
tion of my future life to atone for it. Esther,
can you do this?”
His usually calm, voice was broken and
faltering. His fingers trembled as they closed
over Esther's. She could hear his deep
breathing as he bent close to her. The moon
light fell brightly over his commanding
figure, his square, broad shoulders that the mil
itary dress so well became, the star flashing on
his breast, his face full of strength and intellect,
the majtstic brow, the firm-lipped mouth with
its harsh and haughty curves now softened by
emotion. Any woman’s pulse would have throb
bed faster with triumph at the knowledge that
she had won the love of this cold, stern man—a
man who, more nearly than any she had ever
known, realized Esther's ideal of a strong, self
restraining, intellectual manhood. Yet she felt
no thrill of responsive feeling as he leant close
to her. clasping her hand and looking anxiously ;
into her face. The image of another came be
tween them, another, who had been not half so
7cultured, so self-controlled, but who had pos
sessed that nameless psychical charm that takes spirit. Poor Anna and her child ! I wish it It is all over. No matter how it came so. I
possession of the confidence and throws a spell were in my power to help them. Her lot has must honor where I love: if not. I will uproot
around the will,
“ Hr: never doubted me: he would never have
been driven away from me by a slanderous
whisper. He would have given it the lie in
round, hot words, and then turned to me with
two-fold trust and kindness. Oh ! loyal, tender,
brave heart, why did I know your worth too
late!”
Such unvoiced murmur filled Esther’s breast
as she stood silent a moment, then spoke, and
gently but firmly declined Berrien’s suit. She
For The Sunny South.1
ART.
been harder than mine—betrayed and wronged love from my heart as a weed that can only sap
so foully by one for whom she had deserted a its strength, and give no fruit in return. Ar-
true, warm heart.” thur is soon to be married to one fairer many ;
****** times than I—pretty Nellie Yleadows. She asked -'**• X\i.—kibexs.
The four years’ conflict was over. The red me yesterday to be her bridesmaid, and I con- We have already written of several painters
tide of war receding left bare, ghastly wrecks of | sen ted. I had already agreed to perform the of the Florentine school. It was at Florence, as
life, fortune and hopes. Death had reaped a same service for Crowe and Dusky. Six times a at Venice, few of the distinguished artists of
full harvest. bridesmaid, never a bride, says the old adage, that famous city were of its own children. They
General Haywood had fallen mortally wound- I have already filled the ofiiee a trio of times, came from other places to study the works ol
ed in one of the latest battles in Virginia, and . No, I shall never marry. Let me tell you my art there, and then remained to give themselves
had died two days afterward in Yictorine’s arms programme for the future; I have mapped it out, and their genius to enrich its already immense
wondered at the effect of her answer. It was so a t a ruined cabin upon the roadside. In his will and count upon you to help me realize it, sister treasures of art.
little like what one would expect from his nn- Haywood Lodge was bequeathed to Victorine. mine. I am going to turn this great house of At the beginning of the sixteenth century, the
bending nature. She saw his month tremble, xhe remainder of his fortune was divided Haywood, with all its handsome grounds, into a ideal combined with dramatic composition, and
o injustice to his ; will be our chirropv matron and housekeeper, the perfection of painting in its essential prin-
I have taken you by surprise. Your feelings are j step-daughter had not been a fleeting irupres- And you —will you not come down from your ciples.
sore, as they have a right to be, because of my s ion. fair throne of poetry and help us in this good This new epoch was brought about by Leo-
cruel want of faith in you. But you have prom- It was in the fall succeeding the surrender of ; work?—or rather, plant your poet’s throne in our nardo da Y inci. Fra Bartolomeo and Michael
ised to forgive this. You see now that it was the South that Esther, seated in the small room midst? 'Ye need the ideal in casting our moulds ADgelo, though the works of the last named are
my jealous love that made me so bitter against 0 f a Northern hotel, waited in hat and shawl for of thought and action; we need to be made to distinct in style from the two former. The same
you. It was because I shrined you so loftily, so the gentleman under whose escort she meant to ; look up.” vigor of style and design are conspicuous in the
visit the prison of the place, within whose walls j Esther refolded her letter in haste, for there j three, their chief difference being in eomposi-
she had heard that a few Confederate soldiers ] was a knock at the door, and rose to receive a tion. In light and shade, Da Vinci and Barto-
were still confined. While she waited, watch- gentleman whose obliging courtesy had won her lomeo were superior to Michael Angelo. One
ing as patiently as she could the shadows of the : grateful respect. It was through his influence hundred years from the days of Titian and Tin-
poplars lengthen over the street and the westerly that she had been permitted to visit various pris- toretto, when the queen of the Adriatic was in
sunbeam creeping across the floor, she drew ons in the North, and he bad kindly accom- its supreme glory, the youthful Rubens stood in
sacredly, that I could not bear a flaw upon my
idol, i have shown you my heart; can you not
forgive, understand—and love me? May I not
hope yon will care for me after awhile—in some
future time? I will gladly wait—in hope.”
“Do not hope that I can ever feel for you
anything but sincere esteem and true, friendly Yictorine’s letter from her pocket and re-read it, panied her to this city, and now stood waiting i the Hall of St. .Mark, contemplating the works
interest,” Esther said. while lights and shades succeeded each other on to go with her to the prison she had come to see. of the most wonderful colorist of the ages, the
She felt nothing but sorrow when she saw the (,er expressive face. Both Crowe and Dusky Y'ietorine was correct in her conjecture that it grand, undying Titian. The works of the Ylaes-
look of pain and disappointment upon his face. we re staying at Haywood Lodge with Y’ietorine was not altogether the publicavion of her book tros had brought him from Antwerp to study.
He raised her hand to his lips, then dropped it during Esther's visit North, and a portion of the that had carried her North in such haste. She i Before him were the three Bellinis; the found-
and turned away his head without speaking, letter referred to them. Victorine wrote: j had not even sought a publisher for the novel j ere of the Y'enetian school; Giorgione, Titian,
that reposed in manuscript in her trunk. An- Tintoretto, Paola Veronese, Ford
But his habit of self-command did not desert
‘Lieutenant Morris is here this afternoon.
rdenone, the Pal-
other purpose occupied her thoughts, and yet j mat > and the Bassanos. He studied these works,
in following it up, she seemed to herself to be pencil in hand; a few strokes preserved the out-
pursuing a shadow, so slight was the frame of j Bne. By an intuitive glance, his genius under
lain, and when they re-entered the bright little While I write, I can see him and Dusky passing
parlor a few moments afterwards, his face wore to and fro under the mulberry trees—the walk
its usual look of grave composure. you used to love so well. They seem absorbed . x n _. t __ o _ _
“It is time we were saying good-night, Lieu- j n interesting conversation. What can engaged | reality on which she hung her hopes. j stood and appreciated every beauty,
tenant,” he said to young Morris. Charley took people find to talk about, I wonder, when they j Directly after the termination of the war, ; After studying these works, he went to Man
ias elbow from its rest on the marble table, and pass so many hours of every day in each other's J Esther chanced one evening to be in the com- j tua to study’ the works of Julio Romano, thence
his eyes from their fascinated gaze at the dark society’, and yet seem each time to part with as j panv of a surgeon of the United States army, j to Rome, where Raphael was his model and
loveliness of Dusky s face, shook back his curly much reluctance and as many ‘last words’ as if i Dusky’ was singing at the piano a little way off, j Michael Angelo his wonder. lie studied the
locks, and rising, declared he was ready to obey they’ were not to meet again for years ? Little [ and Dr. Ingoldsby’s look was riveted upon her ! ancients through these works, but be never lost
‘what a sin-
his own originality’.
At Rome lie was employ’ed to adorn the church
gular expression they’ have. They draw one’s I of Santa Croce and the Chiesti Nova-
gaze irresistibly, and haunt one afterward. So j The constant intercourse with his mother by
sad, intense, and wistful; I never saw but one j letters had made the seven years of absence from
her endurable, but he looked forward with eager
his superior officer, however unwelcome might Crowe is the least sentimental and most inter- j face.
be the order to march. esting fiancee I ever saw—entertaining, I mean, [ “Those eyes,” he said, at last;
“But I don’t think I can say the same for ( 0 outsiders as well as the favored ODe. I think
Major Durham,” he said, glancing at a hand- j sa (d j n my j as t letter that I begrudged her to
some, portly officer of thirty-live, \vho was bend- Mr. Copley. I must take that back. I like him j 7 ,
ing over a chess-board, with his ruddy, full- better each time I am with him. He is plain J other pair with that look, and singularly enough
whiskered physiognomy opposite the small, and simple-hearted, but so thoroughly kind and j this young lady resembles him.”
sparkling face of Crowe. _ true and sensible, and so full of quaint humor j “YVlio was he?” Esther asked, quickly.
“ He lias not yet demonstrated to his fair com- a nd odd, child-like conceits, that he wins upon J “A Confederate prisoner that our people cap-
panion how his last battle was won. . | one’s liking. Did I tell you that he had com- j tured in the battle of , now a year and a
‘ L n pi e t e d the purchase of our town paper, the half ago. He was picked up on the battle-field
Plain Dealer, and has issued his initial number— J desperately wounded, after the retreat of the j cient comfort.
a very clever and readable sheet? Pray hunt ! Reb—I beg pardon—the Confederate forces, j Rubens worked on and was the pride of his
‘Or lost, rather,” jried Crowe, springing up
and scattering a handful of ivory chessmen over
the floor. “Esther, would you believe I have
become such an expert as to check-mate Ylajor
Durham ?
delight to a reunion with her and to a home in
his beloved Antwerp. Alas ! for human hopes
and anticipations ! The day before he arrived
at the paternal mansion, his mother died. For
the death of one so beloved, earth has no sufli-
up one of your old stories and send it to him for j He
publication. It will help the Plain Dealer, for j the
was in a swoon when I saw him, through | native country—wealth and honors w
terrible loss of blood, and the soldiers de- ! About this time he received a commissi
ere his.
commission from
“ The Ylajor could not have played with his people here are extremely interested in you and | dared him a dead man. Fortunately, the worst I Ylary de YIeJicis, of France, to adorn the palace
sual care to-night. Something must have dis- j j n a u your movements. They have made of you | wound had partly staunched itself by the clod- j of the Luxembourg. He executed these paint-
usual
traded his
attention, Esther said, glancing a heroine (which you are), and ask me eagerly i ded blood, and the man’s grand constitution en-
ings at Antwerp. He allowed his pupils to ob
serve his method of using his paints as one of
with a half smile from the disconcerted face of j concerning the boou it is believed you have gone j abled him to struggle back from the very jaws j se _
the officer to the blushing one of Crowe. | North to publish. I can give them no satisfac- j of death. Finding him a fine, manly fellow, I the most effectual means of instruction. While
When the visitors were gone a silence fell tion, for you have not deigned to be explicit j did my best to help him, and had the satisfac-
: upon the home group. Esther looked from the upon the subject; and indeed, I sometimes fancy tion of seeing Mm upon his feet after so many
window abstractedly, Crowe played with the that the publication of a book was not altogether | weeks, white as a ghost, of course, with those
| chessmen, and Dusky, sitting at the piano, struck what drew you northward, and that there was j eyes of his so hollow and mournful that their
low, harmonious chords in an absent way. Pres- some other purpose, concerning which I am to- | expression has haunted me ever since.”
ently she turned on her seat and spoke to Es- tally in the dark. You see I have not altogether “Do you remember his name?”
ther. j lost my predilection for romance and mystery. - - -
“ I imagine Lieutenant Ylorris has something '■ Perhaps this is the secret of my admiration for
melancholy in his history,” she said in her your Dusky. Her face, her eyes are so full of
I dreamy, musical utterance. “He is pleasant romantic mystery, I think of Goethe’s Ylignon
and entertaining, but a cloud comes over his even 7 time I look at her. But all of us think
I do not. I should not recognize if if I
heard it called. I remember he was an officer,
but of what rank I cannot recall.”
“ Was he released or exchanged?”
he worked on his large pictures, they were with
him. Among his pupils were Teniers, Snyders,
Jordcens, and Vandyke.
On a certain day, Rubens wearily threw aside
his brush, and charging his pupils to preserve
order and industry, he left them, saying he
should not return till night. For a short time
they obeyed the injunction, but Vandyke was
the first to break the rules. He had his pockets
full of nuts, with which he pelted his fellow-
Not that I know of. I think he was sent | Pupils. 9 f course was not in human nature
i personal spite, don’t pretend tp disg , ^^^B
will add the (mat m-eSfttibie enmm-itt’ rowasnJM im w- a i^Yrav jMavpn „i„„ .release. o£>ome prisoners.” ! antl which was nearly complete. Vandyke with ,
to the other (attractions of Charley in Dusky’s/j the resemblance may eS,tenu#n'o deeper. will 7 Esthers heart beat'so* tumuittfously that she j * »e>‘d shout ;Jsvud his hat at the boy. U rested -
eyes. Did you not see how completely they ; be miserable for his poor mother if the father’s , excused herself and left the loom. A hope a moment on the top of the easel, and then fell
were absorbed in each other, leaving poor Major utter layik of principle show itself ” in the child j stirred in her breast—too slight to communicate j u P on Hi e picture, sweeping after it the breast of
Durham upon my hands?” ! she idolizes so. I see nothing now to make me j t 0 Dusky, lest it might end in disappointment, [ one the saints. Immediate silence followed.
We were not so completely absorbed that we | fear it. lie is a passionate little creature, and j'hut stroiie enough to make her determine to ' What was to be done? The matter would dls-
v __ passionate
could not overhe.ar how well the Ylajor was en- j disposed to tyrannize somewhat over his doting
tertained, until—shall I tell tales out of school, mother, but he is warm-hearted fend truthful,
Crowe, since you have set the example? The j and a grieved or grave look from John - to whom
Major is so accustomed to giving the word of 1 he is strongly attached—at once subdues him.
command, he could not ‘coo like a sucking As for Anna, the improvement I told yon of still
dove,’ even in his love-making, and Lieutenant j continues. When John brought her here from
Ylorris and I overheard every word per force, : her wretched retreat in Germany, I thought her
though not your answer, my cunning minx. ; a wreck not only in body’ but in mind. But
Who would have thought that great, burly, John, with his professional knowledge and his
broad-shouldered son of Ylars was thinking of j hopeful tenderness, sa\* deeper. He said that
entrapping our little humming-bird ? And I when more nourishing food and harmonious
have been hating him all the while, because I surroundings had restored the body to its nor-
thought he was yonr lover, Esther.” I mal health, the mind’s faculties would cease to
but strong enough to make her determine to
visit the Northern prisons, where it seemed pos
sible Captain Kirne might still languish, de
tained, perhaps, because of some rash act of
defiance, and not allowed to communicate by
letter with the outside world.
Such was the object that had induced Esther’s
sudden visit North, and such the hope that led
her steps to the grim, ungainly prison, before
which she now stood with her conductor, the
soft autumnal sun shining upon her face, that a
communication from tlie official at her side had
just flushed and irradiated with joyful expect
ancy. She was not fated to be again disap-
What answer did she give him ?” j ‘jangle like sweet bells out of tune.’ And so it j p 0 inted7 The key of a heavy inner door grated
proved; though I do not think the result would | ; n look and before Esther'
in the lock, and before Esther’s eyes could grow
sufficiently accustomed to the obscurity of the
room within as to discern the occupant, sitting
on a low stool, with his face leaning dejectedly
upon his hands, the tall man had sprung to his
feet with a cry of joy, had caught her in his
arms, end pressed her wildly to his breast.
Two weeks afterwards, a vailed lady and a
tall gentleman alighted from a carriage in front
of Haywood Lodge, and entered without cere
mony,'the servant at the door grinning a wel
come, and was told by the lady that he need
not announce them. Leaving tlie gentleman in
the drawing-room, the lady made her way into
the cool, airy sitting-room, where the ladies of
the house were seated in their pretty home toil
ettes, sewing and reading. Victorine sat at her
writing-desk, bending over a little account-book.
As the visitor entered, she raised her head and
sprang up and crying “Esther, is it possible!”
“None that I heard. I think she laughed at ; proved; though
him and vexed him; but he will come again.” ; have been so gratifying had not John, with un-
“He need not,” Crowe said, balancing a red tiring patience, assisted Nature in her work of
and white chess-queen upon her taper third . restoration by constantly devising ways to re
finger. j store Anna’s cheerfulness and to awaken that
“YVould you refuse him, Crowe?” interest in life which she seemed to have lost.
“ Esther, would you have me accept him ?” And so, little by little, the look of deep melan-
“It would be a wise thing to do in many re- choly, that had only given way to one of irrita-
spects. He is an honoiable, kindly gentleman, tion or to a wild, anxious expression, disap-
a brave soldier, and he belongs to one of the ; peared from her face, and lately smiles have
best families in the State. Added to this, he ; outlined the pretty dimples in her cheeks, and
has an ample fortune.” the cheeks themselves are gathering a faint pink
“ I don’t care for the fortune. I have no par- coloring. To-day, for the first time, I heard her
ticular desire to be another Lady Burleigh, and ; laugh. She was swinging little Karl from a limb
pine and die under of the great sycamore tree (you remember it)
“* Tlie burden of a greatness that shades the back piazza, wnen some quaint
Unto which I was not born.’ remark from him made her laugh aloud—a de-
I was never cut out fora fine lady. It’s my man- ' licious, musical peal, breaking off suddenly, as
ifest destiny to be a poor man’s wife, else I though she were startled at her own unaoens-
would not be so handy in all household tomed gayety, but so like her laugh of old that
ways. I would ask no better fortune than to be I glanced quickly at John, who was sitting near
the mistress of a three-roomed cottage and a tidy me by the window looking at her, as, uncon- ..„ _ , .. .
toy kitchen, and queen absolute over some dear scious that she was observed, she patted the j ^j le n g W coru er, and she was embraced and . considered him sufficiently educated to improve
card them all, aud Vandyke burst into teaks.
He felt grieved for the disappointment of his
mother, who hoped so much for him. At length,
with the versatility of his character, he said:
“Boys, clear everything away and put things
in order as Ylaster Rubens left it. Leave all to
me.”
In a few moments he was seated at the easel,
with the master's brushes and pallet. After em
ploying himself for some time, he said:
“ Now come and look.”
And truly the saint was wonderfully restored.
The next morning, when the master went to
his easel, he exclaimed:
“ Who has dared to meddle with my painting ?”
No one answered. The master said:
“I have but one course to pursue. Since you
do not choose to designate the one among you,
I must discard you all. Quit my room.”
Y'andyke rushed forward.
“Do not punish them. I am the offender—
punish me.”
He then confessed all to the master.
“Who painted the picture?” said Rubens,
trying to preserve his gravity.
“I did it,” said Vandyke. “Pray forgive
me.”
“Very well,” said Rubens. “Follow me.”
He proceeded to the house of Vandyke’s mother
and compelled him to relate the transaction to
his mother, who expected as a matter of course
that her son would be expelled from the school.
Not so. He assured the mother that he saw in
him a genius which would make him one of the
ran forward with outstretched arms. Duskvand j first painters of the age. He employed him in
Crowe, dropping book and work, gathered around finishing several of Ms pictures, and when he
little man not so handsome as to make me jeal- boy’s curly head and stooped and kissed him. | breathlessly questioned by each in turn. When
ous nor so sharp as not to let me generally have She was prettier at that moment than I had ever s jj e g^od quietlv, at last, with Dusky’s arm
the last word, but loyal and loving as the Doug- seen her. John’s eyes shone with an illumina- arotlnc i ber, and Dusky’s eyes looking affection
las himself. • For sueh a one would I cheerfully tion of joy and tenderness, then suddenly grew a t e j y b e r face, YTctorine said to her:
... Brew aud bake, ' misty with tears. ‘ Thank God!’he murmured ’’ ’ ’
Mend aud make, softly. Esther, I knew at that moment what I
And lose the world fur his true love’s sake.’ ” bad feared might be so—that he loves her still J
Esther thought of Copley. She knew that I foresee that he will marry her. I cannot help
Crowe had kept up a correspondence with the feeling truly sorry. You know I could not
little reporter, who long ago had laid down his bear the thought of his marrying her at first,
note-book for the musket and knapsack ot a pri- child that I was then; and afterwards, when she
Some one came with you—did he not, Es
ther? Martin says there is a gentleman in the
parlor. ”
“Yes, Y'ictorine; my husband came with me.
Dusky, my darling, I was married one week
ago.”
Oh ! Esther, can it be?” cried the girl, turn-
vate, proving in this capacity as faithful and nn- left him almost at the altar for Karl Werter, I ! j pa j e ant j Withdrawing her arms. “I
assuming as in the other. She had looked not felt I could never forgive her. But she is greatly not f^ink you WO uld ever—oh ! have yoi
unkindly upon the gradual transfer of his affec- changed since then. Them she seemed to me a soon forgotten ”
did
ou so
by travel, sent Mm to Venice, presenting him
with horse and purse. YVhen the pictures for
Ylary de Yledicis were finished, he went to Paris
to arrange them in the Luxembourg palace, and
there painted two more, likewise the galleries,
representing scenes in her life.
He went to Yladrid at the summons of the In
fanta Isabella, where he painted four pictures
for the Convent of the Carmelites, and a fine
picture of the king on horseback, with many
other pictures. He was richly rewarded, re
ceived the honor of knighthood and the golden
key. He was sent on a political mission, by the
Infanta, to England. There he painted the ceil-
tiou from herself to her bright littie favorite soulless creature, with nothing but a sensuous 1 ,.-y 0 j ^ave not forgotten. I think you will ing of the banqueting house for King Charles,
«*i,I1q rvr,w-, ti-ac ,. . 1,1 nT ,.i n«a hvinrhf uTiinial enirife Ttni BArrAnranR I ... . ’ _ t i“ r, i beside many other works.
married. Come with
him kindly for my
— -——--p - r — i -> v — , .. - . ... , sake, will vou not?”
plodding, but big-hearted friend, this graceful, appreciates his love and clings to Mm with child- . -jj con t ro lled herself, and suffering
merry little creature, who was not only the sun- like trust. I think he has never loved any £ st b er tS take her hand, rose quietly, saying:
beam and song-bird of her home, but'the pet of other woman. The thought of her being de- , <<iwill trv. Forgive me. I know you have
Gets
but Esther, who knew her so well, was sure that
worldly considerations would weigh nothing
with this child of nature, whose wild, woodland
instincts refused to bend to conventional preju
dices.
parlor
the tears with difficulty repressed.
‘ YIv daughter!”
A Distinguished Citizen of Chicag
into Trouble in Georgia.
[From Cld Pratt’s Pa'atica (Fla.) Herald ]
During the recent Southern excursion the Chi
cago Board of Trade delegation was invited to look
over a Georgia plantation. President Bensely be
came separated from his companions, having for a
guide apparently an intelligent and very polite
mulatto. The fellow was exceedingly entertaic-
searched until he found her. YYhat poor little,
thin, sad, starved-looking creatures they were,
both mother and child, when they alighted here
that summer evening, John lifting Anna from
the carriage in his arms, and signing to me to
She lingered after the two young girls had speak as cheerfully and affectionately as I could, i
gone to their room, standing at the bow window He has come over from the Roost ever}' day since,
where she had lately stood with Berrien and be the weather what it might. He prevails on
looking out upon the night that had grown sud- Anna to take walks and horseback rides with us;
denly gloomy and overcast. A wind came down he teaches Karl many a game of romps, the pale j
from the hills and shook the leaves with a moan mother looking on and smiling languidly at first,
and shiver that foreboded the advent of frost but of late, almost as brightly as of old, and far ; j- ee j. there was found a stratum of “blue earth”
and the death of the Indian Summer. Its sigh more sweetly and tenderly. I do not think love w [ t hout amber, and two feet in thickness; then
found an echo in Esther's heart. has ever been touched uponin their daily inter- ! eame ano ther stratum five feet thick, which was
“I shall lose them both,” she murmured; 1 course, but it is sure to be. The time is ripen- r jch in amber.
“both these fair young creatures, whose love ing for it, and just now, forsooth, the air of —— ,
has been so sweet a reward for my care. They Haywood is surcharged with heart electricity. ! How shall you learn to know yourself? Not most awful manner. . .
will find homes in other hearts, and my purpose YVhat w ith the presence here of all these young by contemplation, but by action. Strive to do There was nothing for . Ir. sense y o < o at jo
in life will be enddd. Who will need me? Not lovers, I feel like an owl in a nest of doves, j your duty and you will soon discover what stuff beg pardon humbly and handsomely, which he
Y'ictorine, with brother and sister, father and Esther, I shall never marry. You asked me I you are made of. But what is your duty? To did; but he and the Spaniard did not long remain t
Neap.lv all the amber of commerce comes from ing, and Mr. Benselev, beginning to take an in-
Eastern Prussia, where it is obtained by dreag- (erest in him, said: “To whom did you belong
ing the bottom of the sea just oft’ the coast. It before the war?”
was recently discovered that amber occurs in a “Sir?” said the guide, whipping out an
deposit called the “blue earth.” It has been enormous revolver, and putting it unpleasantly
supposed that this deposit extends for some neal . \j r , Bensely’s nose.
distance inland, and a sliaft was recently sunk ».j asked,” faltered the commercial gentleman,
to determine this point. At the depth of 1A0 ,, t0 w hom this plantation belonged before the
war.”
“It belonged to me, sir, and does still: hut I
want your first remark.” and the man with the
olive complexion flourished his revolver in the
friends, and her own strong, self-sufficient concerning my engagement with Arthur Leigh, fulfill the claims of the day.
in each other's company.
INSTINCT PRINT