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FLOWER SONG.
.
rk ’ee, pretty Golden Rod, leaning o'er tk
•L I™th tha, at your face I might cafft.
look:
jet TfcA you'll air never let me peep, tho’ I know tw
-
P/.npletely out of sight by your yellow hair.
back, why are you «
to see except myself and a butterfly!
0< s so still ami shady here where the willowy
nod,
on't you let me have one peep, pretty Golden
Rod? —Gertrude Alger.
HE KEY OF Till p CASKET.
t When
Chester Seabrook, young,
-.pealthy, 1 intelligent and ambitious of liter
v ry fame, w ent to Italy to collect ma¬
terials and to consult authorities before
( eginning his projected tragedy of ‘ ‘Ca'sar
otorgia,” his friends and relatives in
[lew York were far from anticipating the
j.ctual tad brought results about of his his researches. These
If acquaintance with
, certain Ur. Alexander Marini, an aged
Physician of Milan, who claimed descent
;rom one of the collateral branches of the
dorgia family. This old doctor’s grand
Lucrezia Marini, was wonder
’ully beautiful, an Italian blonde, glowing
vith the freshness of extreme youth,
H miniature, painted on ivory and repro
Cueing the glowing yet delicate beauty of
fair Lucrezia, was all that remained
to him of that episode in his life; that, and
e boy, who had received the name of
Louis,‘and who boro well his transfer to
the United States, growing and thriving
as though lie had been born under the
of the Stars and Stripes.
When Louis was a little over 12 years
< 0 f a g e his father died suddenly of typhoid
pneumonia. Mr. Seabrook had never
married again, a circumstance usually
by WO rld at large to his
devotion to the memory of his wife. In
this they were probably mistaken. The
man who has been extremely happy in
married life, and who is left a
widower, is usually very anxious to
marry again as soon as possible. lie misses
the domestic peace, the joys of tranquil
home affection, and his desire to remarry
is almost invariably in proportion to the
felicity bestowed upon him by his wife.
The widower of a shrew, a fool, or a dis¬
agreeable and uncongenial woman, is, on
the other hand, very apt to remain
single. Having once escaped from the
dungeon and torture chamber, he is very
careful to keep out of them forevermore;
and for one reason or another Chester
Seabrook never again made any attempts
to enter the holy estate of matrimony.
It is the early development of the mother
instinct, the sweetest and tenderest ele
ment in feminine nature, that thus finds
and °« u I > »« io “ : and Grace petted
Louis, and . watched him, and
over some
times scolded him in a protecting, patron
izing way that, coming from so small a
„ irl> WO uld have been comical if it had
nQt ,^ n Tery c | larmtag .
I* or the poor boy “needed all the a free¬
tion that could possibly be bestowed upon
him. IJe was never strong, and his dis
position was gloomy and morbid to a de
gree that was extraordinary in one that
was to so great a degree a favorite of for
tune. He was shy and silent to a pain
ful extent, and despite his Italian origin,
he developed no taste for either art or
music. He decided early in life to be
come a physician, but after studying
medicine for some few years in a desul
tory, languid way, devoting the chief
part of his time to investigations concern
ing the nature and properties cf. poisons,
he suddenly announced that, on attain
ing his majority, lie had made up his
mind to relinquish all idea of studying a
profession. And he likewise astonished
Mr. and Mrs. Marsden by making formal
proposals for the hand of Grace.
These proposals were negatived at
once, and decidedly, by Mr. Marsden.
% * You are both of you too young to
think of such a tiling as marriage, or
even of an engagement, Louis,” his uncle
made answer. “You are only just 21
and Grace is but a few weeks over 10.
Moreover; I have decided objections to
the marriage of ilrst cousins.”
“You do not know to what you doom
me, uncie, was the gloomy response of
the young man. “Grace is all that I have
to live for upon earth, and if I lose
her"—-•
4 • Now, do riot talk nonsense, Louis,”
responded Richard Marsden, briskly, but
not unkindly. 4 4 Grace is too much of a
child to be allowed to listen to your prof
fers of affection. She cares no more for
you than she docs for Ned, or Harry, or
Frank. You are like a brother to her—
nothing more—and I do not mean to
have her mind disturbed by anything like
love making. Besides, you have seen
nothing of the world, as you should do
before choosing a wife and settling down
to matrimony and quietude, (h > abroad
spend the next two years in E uropean
travel, and then 9 9
“Arid then you will give Grace to me?
eagerly asked the youth, his pale face
flushing and his dark eyes glowing as lie
spoke. promise; I will enter inU
“I make no
no compact with you on that subject,
You and Grace must both be entirely
free, and if eithe. of you shall fall in lovn
with some one else”_
4 4 I cannot admit the existence of such
a possibility so far as I am concerned,”
made answer Louis, passionately.
“Nevertheless such thin^ are nossible
such children as you both are were con
cerned. Now let me hear notlung more
on this Riihiprt J T shall send Grace to
stav with her aunt Mrs Elavyn in
Washington, until you are gone, and I
shall feed seriously displeased with you if
vou broach to her 'an v subiect connected
with love and matrimony J before her de
Dart 1 ure”
And so well and carefully did Mrs.
Marsden (who was at once acquainted by
her husband with all the details of the
affair) watch over her daughter, that
Grace went awav for her visit wholly
unconscious of the conquest she had made
of her cousin's affections. She was, to
teU the truth, so delighted at the idea of
ti&Co^r; n w.iv^
she had loBt siglit of the fact that Cousin
Louis was going to sail for Europe in a
few weeks, and that she would not see
him again for a long, long time. In
fact, the peculiarly morbid disposition of
the young 8 man had nature,Nd finally become renel
lent to he r bright though she
was always affectionate and _ kind to him,
she felt, unconsciously, a certain degree of
relief in the thought of his absence.
I * * You must not forget me, Grace,” he
said, fervently, at the moment of her de¬
parture. And the young girl answered.
gavlv: i t No fear of that. Louis. Even if
you never write to any of us, I shall al
ways remember you. For you are my
cousin, you know—just the same to me
as one of my brothers.”
L<niis was nlnnit to utter some pro-*
testation respecting this announcement
on Grace's part; but a significant touch
on his shoulder from the hand of Mr.
Marsden recalled that gentleman's stern
prol libit ions, and he contented himself
with kissing with fervor the little hand
that Grace frankly placed within his
own, unheeding the fresh young face
that was held lip to him for a parting
salute.
j “How odd you arc, Louis, not to kiss
me good by!" she cried, gayly, as she
sprang into the carriage; “remember,
you must write your first letter from
Rome to me. And be sure you tell me
what you think about Jdt. Peter's and the
Colosseum. 1 wish I were going with
you to see them all. 9 y
“If you only were! muttered Loins,
as the carriage drove away. 4 * There
goes my guardian angel, and I must go
forth alone to meet the demon.”
A few weeks later Louis Seabrook
••ailed from New York for Europe, lie
did not fail to write to Grace more than
one impassioned love letter shortly after
his arrival; but the child, perplexed, un
j sympathizing and half provoked with
j what she called “Cousin Louis' foolish
i ness,” made no response to his fervent
j protestations. Louis took the hint, and
the Correspondence thereafter was con
ducted on a more tranquil footing. To
this change a sharp reproof from Mr.
Marsden, and a threat of forbidding al
together any interchange of letters, proli¬
ably contributed largely, The traveler
wrote bu seldom, but he often
tokens of regard and remembrance to his
uncle's family, and especially to Grace
One of these was a fine copy of the cole
brated portrait of Caesar Borgia, by Ra
phaol, which is one of the noted art
treasures of the Borghese palace. Ami
in the strangely beautiful face, with (he
evil tendencies of the inner nature look
ing from the largo eyes and curving the
full red lips, Mrs. Marsden recognized
with a shudder a strong resemblance to
the countenance of her nephew. Indeed,
I he alluded to the likeness himself in one
of the infrequent letters received from
him during his sojourn in Rome. “I
must be a true descendant of the Bor
gias, ” he wrote, “for my likeness to the
Raphael portrait has been commented
upon even by totul strangers, and when I
went to see my greatgrandfather. Dr.
Marini, when I passed through Milan the
other da y, his first exclamation on lx*
***** - “» Lke f
mothers race. By the way. what a
wonderful old man he is! 1 have prom
is ed to pay hun a long visit on my way
back to Paris, and lie tells me that he
will then confide to my keeping sundry
family relics of great importance. Icon
fess that I am very curious to see them,
Ha is nearly 00 years old now, but pro
serves all his faculties unimpaired.
A few months later Louis wrote that
the promised visit had l>een paid, and
that Dr. Marini had daced in his hands
some curious and antique objects, several
of which had at one time belonged to the
famous family of Pope Alexander Borgia.
“Amongst these,’ he wrote, “is an ivory
casket C rvi exiiuisite and artistic workn B in
eriL wi,mr^rxr H-l e~+ 3 f
to have lmM tints long for the t xpress
purjxwe of bestowing his cherished heir
looms on his great grandson and sole
direct descendant.
The two years that had lxs-n fixed as
* .Seabrook absence
the jxri«xl ‘m O f young end, and s he had
had arly come to an
already written to announce the date
which he would sail for home, when
received from Mrs. Marsden the news
Grace's engagement to a young a
talented lawyer, Stuart Hastings
name. The match was one that w
satisfactory in every wav to Mr. a. • i
Mrs. ilaivden, and, to do them ju>L
they had l>oth looked iij.xm the att;.<
ment of Louis for his cousin a. a nu
bou.-fl passion that had not survived t
tests of time and absence, This leti
received no response. t ut Louis wrote
few hurried lines to Grace, declaring
intention of being present at her ni;
riage. “Ami to prove to niy pc
cousin that 1 b*nr her no malice for t
way that she has trilled with m> ;.«*■
tions, he wrote, 1 will 1 ring her
wedding present such as few brides
this Nineteenth century have e\ei i
ceivetl.
But it not till . the day he.ote L ,
was
fixed for the ceremo»i> that Louis mu
his appearance at the house of lus an:
Ho received a warm welcome Lawn M
Marsden, who had alway s looked up
him as one of her own rlnldtcn.
» * You have grown tall and man
Louis, 9 9 she said, after the first greetii
were at an end, “but you look wild, hi •
gard and feverish. Are you suffer:
from malaria? You must not fall ill
the very day of your return—the eve
Grace's wedding day. Your playmate
bygone days would fool sorely grieved
you wore not to lie present to-morrow
“Ah, ves where is Grace? I had f<
gotten Grace!" the young man
sponded, hurriedly. “1 want to see I
- I have my wedding gift ready for h
and l want to present it to her myself
“Go into the library, then, and I w
send her to you in a moment. Hu*
just having her wedding dress tried «
for the last time, and 1 will tell her i*
to take it off, for 1 want you to see lie
charmingly she looks in it. 9 9
And with a nod and a smile Mrs. Mai
den disappeared. t!
Some ten minutes later the door of
library, where Louis w as pacing t
floor impatiently, was slowly opera
and the bride-elect, graceful and chan:
ing in her vesture of snowy satin, with
mien of grave, sweet maklenliness, a
vanced with outstretched hands to gre
the newly returned wanderer. He gaz
upon her for a moment with a lowerir
brow and a bitter snide.
4 4 So it is thus that i find you, worn;.
that I loved,” he said between his tcet:
“on the eve of your marriage, ail radia;
and smiling in your bridal finery!"
“Cousin— Cousin Louis!" stain mere
tfio young girl, amazed and half alarm.
it Seabrook s demeanor.
“Oh. you need not be afraid -I ha\
not come to overwhelm you with i
proaches or to tell you all he ill that■ y.- :
have wrought, my cousin Grace. I hav
Jake .1, and .«l t« . >U-s- .
From me as you and jour kinsfolk iu h.
deserve. I I
So saying, he turn.*1 towards the tabl*
UHlbroUKlitforwart! tothe
pasket that stood there still half si tou.
in its wrappings. Divested of then,
*howed in the sunset light ns a marvel <
artistic beauty, ln high relief upon t!
lid was carved the ne . Ung of io
an na< m, an< u
with a representation <1 tlu hrikd bridal ot¬ I
session of the go<l, " herein bacclmnc
and satyrs, nymphs and fauns, an«icupn
«»*• l«' "’S!.? ‘ ll ^p, 1 ‘".f‘'
Ful confusion, l h • .no mnvs .1 th n.
»-k“t were 1.1 ntmm r. and on
the lock s engraven
s (o ^ 1)riVr „,| " by an enam0 tv , -
- -
. f
1)1 ‘ 1 * ! ^
Grace drew- near and gazed " ith ... b bre.t,
^ ' J‘ii*Vo ^ ’j' / “ 1 ‘
, . - i
