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tWE aoWtRS COUiCTlOK
VOL. V. J.H.&WB. SEALS,} gBSSSSASg
ATLANTA GA., AUGU T 16, 1879.
pi,
Li.
Terms in advance tgiugle Cop y 5c.
No. 214.
ARS, TICTRIX.
“Oui,'Voeuvre sort plus bt lie
Qu’tmc forme nn travail |
Rebel lc,
Vers, marbre. onyx, email. "
Yes : where the ways oppose—
When the hard means rebel.
Fairer the work outgrows—
More potent far the spell.
0 Poet! then forbear
The loosely sandaled verse,
Choo-e thou rather to wear
The buskin—straight and terse.
See that thy form demand
The labor of the tile ;
Leave to the tyro's hand
The limp pedestrian style.
Sculptor, do thou discard
The yielding clay—consign
To Paritin pure and hard
The beauty of thy line—
Model thy Satyr's face
In bronze of Syracuse:
In the veined agate trace
The profile ol thy Muse.
Painter, that still must mix
But transient tints anew,
Thou in the furnace fix
The firm enamel’ hue.
Let the smooth tile receive
Thy dove-drawn Erycine;
Thy sirens blue as eve
Coiled in a wash of wine.
All passes. Art alone
Enduring stays to us;
The Bust outlasts the throne—
The coin Tiberius.
Even the gods must go,
Only the lofty Ithyme,
Not countless years o'ertbrown—
_VxvJ louo etiWor& .tj&rpass.
With the hard fashion fight
With the resisting mass.
Austin Dobson.
Much to his satisfaction, dinner was sr on after
announced, and the family, consisting of his uncle
and aunt, Miss Devon and himself, repaire l to the
dining-room, -where an ample meal had been pi e
pared! and where, somewhat later, ample Justice
was done to it by one, at least, of those who sat
ar °YouSiveju5come in time, Eryc,’ said Mrs
Delamere, pouring out. after the ^ L aulo " nt °|
small talk had been g< ne through with, d_econa
ini rtf coffee tor Mr, Dtiuiucry. _ , ,
How'so '" demanded the person addressed, but
attacking, nevertheless, with unabated ardor the
ramnting viands before him. ,
‘•There is a nice little select dinner party over at
Erinner’s the day after to-morrow, h i'e» in
honor of Diana, his only child, about eighteen years
wh., i s Mr. Ethmer V demanded Eryc in a
business-like sort of way. neizh-
xie is wealthy old gentleman, and a near neig
bor of ours.’
‘And*Diana, Mr. Delamere,’ interposed Miss
D T^dn^SXr. Ethmer’s to had beau
ty,’said Eryc.
•0, Diana is a star I assure you, 1 ' rep
Devon, ‘and in her presence we lesser lights are
scarcely noticed. • . . , Fr _„ . as
■ 1C as you sav, she is a star,’ rejoined Eryc, as
such; I suppose,' w,e must aU ^upon^er^ ^ ^
doubt but, that those who approach Miss Ethmer,
see her beautv through the captiyatuig medium ot
oold dollars and bankstock,’ and he shrugged his
shoulders as if he would express, m unmeasured
terms, his indilference for -Miss Ethmer' s charm3.
'But you really do her great injustice, persisted
Miss Devon, when you know her you will totally
hange your opinion, ’
hk suddenly came
ft
TUB ■fcJSil T.
' Vg
■oeing the look of involuntary surprise tyitb which [ >ng slightly forward, «l>e
•IPitut"j£jPntCSrnui£ } ■U'y'" *'V..inK&
'-Tel, 1 know; all right,’ rejoined Eryc, unaecus- • rounded'iBvS^S'Sffff stature of ,
‘i thiuk sir, it is worth live dollars,'-
seeing
X
Did then
;L£ MAID, WHO BOP.ST OUT
• of her hair, and with her
I THE UNDEUGBO ; TH CLOSE TO HIS HOKSL S EEL
.s ..
-i V < v- nothing in the last thrc
DELAMERE;
-OR-
Corinne the Sphyns!
BY PAUL C. LE SUEUE.
CHAPTER I.
It was u still cold morning of mid winter in a lit
tle village situated near the Blue Ridge Range in a
Southern state. The puffing engine had just halt
ed by a little shed of a depot when there stepped
forth from the cars a young man of prepossessing
api>earauce, who, after having seen his baggage in
a place of security, proceeded co look about him
with the air of one who seeks an expected friend
aim'd the crowd.
In stature he was scarcely above a medium
height and of the calm graceful self-possessed car
riage bestowed by the consciousness of mental or
physical superiority. His face, though eminently
handsome, was slightly pale but not of a east to in
duce an idea of ill-health, and at this moment wore
a troubled expression which might have been at
tributed either to melancholy or vexation. His
brow was open and intellectual and his mouth was
finely and firmly formed though innocent quite of
beard or moustache.
But, withal, there was a look which beamed from
his dark brown eyes which spoke of a noble spirit
within and conciliated immediately the good will
of every beholder.
It soon became evident, however, that the ac
quaintance for whom the young stranger seemed to
search could not lie found, for after looking around
for some time ineifectually he entered a little shop
near by with a battered and time-worn sign above
the door to the effect that Abel Bunch to all and
sundry dispensed the best of family groceries, and,
having made a slight purchase with the purpose of
propitiating, perhaps, the good wishes of the worthy
grocery-mail inquired as the latter was wrapping
up his bundle:
‘Can you tell me, sir, of any one living about
here with the name of Delamere?’
‘So sir,’ was the reply, ‘not exactly about here
but about tliree miles out.’
‘Do you know whether there is any one here to
day of that name?’
‘I don’t thiuk there is sir.’
The questioner’s countenance fell and he was for
a moment silent.
‘Are you a relation of the Delamere’s?’ asked Mr.
Bunch, with a degree of curiosity as he handed to
the young man the purchase he had made.’
‘Yes sir,’ returned the latter, ‘my name is Dela
mere—Eryc Delamere—and I wish to get to Dela
mere, the name of my uncle’s place, 1 believe, as
soon as possible.’
‘There aint any stables in this town,’ said Abel
Bunch after a pause, during which he scratched his
head reflectively, ‘but I’ll tell you what I can do.
I have a horse 1 sometimes let out to strangers as
come here without any means of getting away.’
‘You would do me a great favor by letting me
have the horse this morning,’ returned Eryc Dela
mere. ‘1 wrote to my uncle to meet me here but
for some cause he has failed to do so. I should like
to get to Delamere by twelve o’clock if possible.
‘Lord bless you sir,’ exclaimed Mr. Bunch, ’four
miles in an hour on the mountain road! It’s nearly
’leven now and will be later than that by the time
you start.’
‘I understood you to say it was only three miles,
answered young Delamere.
‘If I did, I was mistaken,’ replied the grocery-
man, undauntedly; it’s nigher five miles than three
over the mountain road, sir, the worst road in the
country.’
•Well, well, we will not dispute about it,’respond
ed the young traveler, while a shrewd smile lit up
his features;‘have the horse ready. The distance
will not grow less by our talking.’
The double entendre contained in the last remark
was not altogether appreciated by the worthy gro
cer, and
plied:
touted to haggle over a price and wishing to
short all further delay, T am obliged to you for
your consideration. Here is your money, sir. Your
horse shall be returned to-morrow.’
So saying, he handed Mr. Bunch the fare and by
his direction roue by the little jiust office for the
mail.
He rode for an hour along a rough road through
a broken, rocky country. There were no roads to
put him ort of his way. the mail had said, and feel
ing no uneasiness ou this score, and finding that his
guant Rosinante had no decent gait but a walk, he
allowed the reins to drop loosely on the animal’s
neck and gave himself up to thought.
In the midst of a brown study, he was aroused by
coining in contact with the limb of a tree, and look
ing around him he saw that his horse had diverged
from the main road and was now in a narrow bri
dle path. He immediately turned the animal’s
head with the intention of getting back into the
road, but the winding path seemed to get mixed up
with other intersecting little by-ways and pretty
soon he felt sure he was lost.
It was not a pleasant feeling for a weary and
rather saddened traveler, looking forward longing
ly to a welcome from friends and kin, and he chided
himself for his careless revery. He seeuied to get
more involved every moment, the country was ev
ery where alike—rocks and occasional large oaks,
, He knew also, from letters fra'
1 more than twelve months ago,
I had been installed at Delamere'
I house-keepers old and ugly, ate*’
I been so from immemorial t * 1
I membered these things be « 8 ,
j be no other than Connue, his ^ 1
; sunny days of a half-score yea.. "
use-keeper
c&'were not all
f they not ever
When he re-
!ided she could
tin, whom in the
£o he had kissed
new-comer
Mrs. Delamere had not yet seen them, but when
j they come nearer, she caught sight of them, and
coming forward, met them upon the steps. She
; was a tail woman, dressed in black, and still pos-
| sessing the remains of what had once been beauty, , able. In talking with his aunt before he had for*-
and in spite of the cares and griefs which sixty I home to mention thiscircumstance.
lif,. - - - - J
| cur
sume
shall not be compelled l
have .uttered in regard to her.
unC'---», e ;’eyhoed Mrs. Delamere, ‘why will you not
Athis; unexpected declaration .Mrs. Delamere
stared at the speaker in a species of helpless amaze
ment, and Mr. Delamere, who had a piece of steak
upon his fork, paused with it raised halfway to his
mouth, at his nephew, as if he would inquire into
his sanity or sobriety. Even Miss Devon regarded
him with a gravity of look not altogether comfort-
ash or chestnut trees now and then a clung
mountain laurel being the only features. As
of
he j
some dozen or more times a “'Ey, and by way of !
surprise, he determined to do t'j same thing now,
or rather, he would pay her bae\ with interest for
all the similar favors of the past, which she had
bestowed upon him. From the poise of her head
and the turn of her neck he concluded she must be
very pretty, and there may have been some other
reason than the laudable, but unfashionable desire
of paying a debt, which prompted hitu to the con
templated mode of cousinly salutation : for he was
very much like other young men in some respects,
tliis Eryic Delamere was, and a kiss from a pair of
tempting lips was not altogether objectionable,
j whether from his own, or from some other person's
I cousin. But we cannot see very far into the future;
j neither could Eryc see, at that moment, the result
j of his present undertaking ; for lo, as having softly
i approached her he put one hand beneath her chin
1 and drew upward toward his own a rather pretty
! mouth, she quickly disengaged herself before h&
could execute his purpose, and springing to her feet,
she thus began
years of life must inevitably have brought upon! ‘Going to sea?’repeated Mrs. Delamere as if the
her, it was only the closest inspection that could bare idea bore impossibility'upon the very face of
discover a sign of gray in the locks of her deep ' it; ‘I hope you are jesting.’
black hair, and she walked as erect as a girl of six- j ‘Yot jesting, auut,’aaid Eryc, who now began to
teen. I think, from the wandering faces around him, that
but in sad earnest. I
. left me now, and no
so near.y equal to his own was her height. ! time to wait for something favorable to turn up.
She then showed him into a room, and Miss j Since you seem to be so surprised and shocked at
turns., ironi me wanuenng i.ai
She met Eryc quite affectionately, and as he j some explanation was due—‘1
kissed her, he noticed that he did not have to stoop, i have no choice of profession 1
•Mr. Wilmot—sir you are—’ but suddenly discov-
, . . . . - , , i ering that the person before her was not the one
was beginning to grow disheartened, he suddenly ; whom at first site had taken him to be, she stood
came upon a little maid of twelve years old or , Cont ,. mplafciD
thereabout, who burst out through the undergrowtn •
right at his horse* feet. She had been out chestnut °
hunting with a party of her seht
_ been left behind. she was bur
Siie stopped and curtsied, blushii
stranger, but when he had informe
had lost his way and that his destination
rmere, she quickly responded:
‘Delamere! Why, you are close by Delamere, al
most in sight, though you’ve left the road ever so
far. 1 can show you the way though. ’
‘If you please, my pretty little maid,’ he answer
ed and she at once started off in front of the horse.
He followed her for several hundred yards through
the woods until at length she stepped into a road
and said:
‘This isn’t the road yon left, but yonder’s Dela
mere in sight on that hill among the big trees.’
Thanking her cordially and bending to drop a sil
ver half dollar into her apron, our traveler said
good-bye to his little guide and turned his atten
tion to the mansion that bore his ancestral name.
It was a rambling flat-roofed building approached
by a broad smooth gravel walk. Alighting, he
stood leaning for a moment against the gate noting
with observant eye the scene around him.
The drearest part of the fall had come ; and
yet the objects upon which he gazed were not alto
gether cheerless or uninviting. The walk which led
to the house was serpentine and bordered by ever
green shrubbery, while ou both sides of it the
grounds were laid off with care and elegance. The
house itself was a low two story building, and
seemed to have had growth from a nucleus or origi
nal part to which according to the fancy of the
owner, or the increase of his purse there was added
from time to time, an entry here, a bay-window
there, and a room yonder, until the structure pre
sented a style of architecture which, if not strictly
classic, bad, at least, the charm of novelty, and
now, with the unclouded sun of winter pouring its
cheering beams upon it—a suggestiveness of warmtL
and hospitality which goes at once to the heart of
the looker on.
In front of the house a grove stretched down a
gentle declivity—a cheerless, leafless grove which,
no doubt, in spring and summer exhibited a far
different aspect, and gave to many a song-bird
shelter and shade from wind and sun.
These things Eryc observed, partly as he stood at
the gate, and partly while he went up the gravel-
walk. As he drew near the house he caught a
glimpse of a young girl, who had before escaped his
attention while he noted the salient points of the
scenery around. She was seated in a little sum
mer-house to the right, and seeuied to be arrang
ing a bouquet of some sort—perhaps of winter
flowers—just taken from the hot-house. His ap
proach she had not yet observed, nor had the sound
of the vehicle, when he rode up attracted her at
tention. It was now about midday, and as she sat
him in amazement, and speechless
Devon went out to inform Mr. Delamere of the ar
rival of his nephew.
The apartment in which Eryc now found himself
was large, and elegantly furnished. There was a
rich carpet upon the floor, and fine pictures upon
walls, and the chairs were of that comfortable luxu
rious softness which answers so well the purpose
for which such furniture should be made, and not
of a. certain fashionable, stiff, excruciating charac
ter, in which the luckless individual throws himself
for a brief interval of repose, but finds, instead a
period of torture.
It had been many years since he had been last in
that room and he would fain have indulged, for a
short time, in recalling old memories ; but oppor
tunity was lacking, for his aunt, as he quickly ob-
i served, in spite of her stately form and carriage,
| was quite chatty, and familiar, and kept him close
ly engaged in answering her numerous, but kind
pects,
Her sarcasm was unpleasant, and he was about to
become seriously hurt at it, when it suddenly oc-
cured to him that possibly he might have been
mistaken in thinking himself known.
Therefore ho determined to reveal himself at
once.
•I am your cousin—Eryc Delamere,’ he said.
At this intelligence a new light came into her
face, but she dul not appear to be verv much
moved.
He thought her conduct remarkably cool and
made no scruple in telling her so immediately.
‘I expected a Warmer welcome from you, at least,’
he said.
‘Why from me, sir I You are evidently laboring
under some mistake.’
‘Yes 1 see I am’ he responded pointedly.
‘And your mistake, sir, is that you have taken
me for your cousin. 1 am not Coriime, as you
seem to think. But I am not surprised to see that
you are ignorant of the existence of such an insig
nificant personage as I am. ’
Eryc bowed apologetically, and said with defer
ence.
‘May I be so bold then as to enquire who are you
then ?’
‘Certainly ; I atn plain Miss Devon—Vesta De
von, house-keeper here at Delamere, and at your
sei vice sir—especially at meal times.’
‘Then Miss Devon I most humbly beg your par
don for my unintentional rudeness and familiarity.
I might have mor«j readily divined who you were,
and. what your occupation if you had been old and
homely instead of young and beautiful as a Peri,
and—’
‘O dear me !’ interrupted the young girl with a
laugh, anti a deprecating gesture. ‘That will do.
1 suppose you mean to say something very fine to
me, but, as I have never seen a Peri, I cannot guess
to what extent I am indebted to you.’
Unabashed by being -o archly and sobanteringly
cut short iu his polite speech, he continued.
‘And now since you have been so gracious as to
tell me your name, may I again lie so bold as to
make another inquiry and ask the name of the per
son whom you took me to be on my first approach ?’
She dropped a flower from her hand, and stooped
to pick it up. It seemed that she stooped to hide
some confusion, also, but it was entirely gone when
she again glanced toward him, and answered defi-
sogetber appreciated by the worthy gro- intently occupied with her task, with the golden ‘That is my own affair. But come into the house,
hen asked what his charge was he re- sunshine playing about the dark, luxuriant masses They will be delighted to see you. I have heard
in life,
of old
— existence.
His hair was entirely white, but his face was geni
al, and full of the fire of more active manhcod, and
his form was but little bowed with age. He pressed
forward, aud taking Eryc’s hand, assured him that
lie was more than welcome to Delamere, and look
ing into the handsome, ingenuous face of the young
man, he said, while something like a tear trembled
in his eye.
‘Yes, yes; he is like Robert, Kate—just such a
form—just such a face only a little paler. And
now my boy,’addressing Eryc—his other remarks
were made to Mrs. Delamere ‘remember that this
is your home. I cannot give you up soon V
Eryc would have said something to dispel from
his uncle’s mind the impression that his visit would
be a lengthy one, as he intended leaving in the
course of two or three weeks, but resolved not to
dash the joy of the first moments of his arrival by
any ill-timed allusion to a contemplated early de
parture, he remained silent.
Miss Devon, for whose reappearance he looked in
vain, remained out of the room, aud he was about
to ask some question concerning her, when the en
trance into the room of a mulatto boy, about fif
teen years of age who delighted in the appellation
of Bose, and who now came to replenish the fire,
attracted his attention, and changed the current of
conversation ; and Mrs. Delamere asked :
‘ Why did you not write and let us know you
were coming ?’
In reply he pulled from his pocket several letters
which he hail taken that morning from the office.
Among these was a letter which he had written to
Delamere, and which had been delayed. He then
informed his aunt of the manner in which he had
come in a very few words, for, at that particular
moment, he was more inclined for dinner than for
conversation, as he had not tasted food since the
night before. In conclusion he asked for his cousin
whom he had, each moment since his arrival, been
expecting to see enter.
‘Coriime is in Florida now for her health,’ an
swered Mrs. Delamere with a sigh. ‘But she will
be here very soon.’
‘1 found Miss Devon in the yard and took her for
Coritine,’ said Eryc.
‘Y ou see,’ explained his aunt, ‘she is one of the
family now. 1 call her my governess.’
‘ishe is very handsome,’ remarked Eryc.
‘So she is,’asserted his aunt, ‘but you must not
fall in love with her, for I think.some one is before
hand with you, and you may be disapponted.’
‘Thanks for your timely warning. I will be on
my guard. Though I am not what is called suscep
tible, yet I must confess that Miss Devon might
make a deep aud Ingoing impression on me.’
my intention, I will try so put my case before you
in the best possible light—that is, I mean in the
most favorable light. In the first place, and with
justice to myself, I must say that I do not belong to
that class of naughty boys who run off from home
and Papa to be cabin boys to cruel captains, and so
get cured of their roving propensities. For, in the
second place l have no home to run from, and no
roving propensities to get rid of. But, about the
time I was arranging, for creditors, the wrecks of
my father’s estate, which I told you before. I re
ceived, friends, who had know him, and been at
tached to him in youth, a letter, offering me a per
manent and lucrative position on board a vessel
plying between New York and the West Indies.
This friend, Barnes by name, did not mention the
office I was was to obtain, though he left me under
the impression that is something on the supercargo.
I shall not stickle, however as to what it shall be.
but shall accept it readily whatever it may be. I
shall wait here for a reply which is to inform me
when the situation will lie open to me. But. suf
ficient into the day is the evil thereof, and I will
try to prevent the uncertainty of my situation from
detracting from the enjoyment of my sojourn here
at Delamere.-
Having thus frankly laid forth his plans and ex
pectations for the future, anil in spite of the reluc
tance he felt at speaking of them, he dismissed the
subject by saying.
‘1 hope 1 shall not be compelled to leave before
Corinne return*. How long will she remain in
Flojida?’
‘Mot long,’ replied Mrs. Delamere with a look
which he had occasion afterwards to remember.
‘We expected she would spend the winter there,
but she writes us that we may look for her very
soon, as she is dreadfully tired of the people and
the climate. Her health is not as good as it once
was.’
‘I remember,' remarked Eryc, that she was frail,
and delicate years ago, and am sorry to hear that
she has not improved. When she comes I shall
make her ramble over the fields, and grow light
hearted and well again.’
Though he did not think the benevolent inten
tions he expressed toward bis cousin were of any
especial merit or importance, he fancied that both
his uncle and his aunt appeared to be very grateful
to him for thus expressing himself; so that he began
toifeel uncomfortable in the thought that some sad
fate, or mystery, was impending darkly over the
life of his former little playmate, now so far away
in the sunny Hand of Flowers.
But this impression he soon dismissed, and rising
from the table when themeal was finished, he re
tired with his uncle to the parlor for the remainder
of the evening.
CHAPTER II.
Whatever may have been the qualms of con
science with which Eryc contemplated going, on
the Delamere family invitation, to the dinner at
Mr. Ethmer’s, they were entirely quieted by the re
ceipt, on the day intervening between that of his
arrrival and the one of the important occasion re
ferred to, of a neat little piece of formality request
ing the presence of himself individually at Mr. Eth-
mer’s on the following day. Accordingly, after
some delay caus' d by a slight disarrangement in
some of Mrs. Delamere’s domestic affairs, he took
the vacant seat in the carriage by the side of Miss
Devon, with whom and his uncle and aunt, he rode
off gaily toward the place where were to be held
the festivities of the dav.
After nearly an hour's drive over roads of pretty
much the same character a- those over which he
had passed a day or two previously, they drew near
to Mr. Ethmer’s. As the carriage passed through
the broad avenue of over-arching trees that led up