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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