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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