The Georgia mirror. (Florence, Ga.) 1838-1839, May 04, 1838, Image 1
BY GARDNER & BARROW.
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.~ um 9« i -*-*«r-.« •'• .—-i-T-JX *-i-r ~ «-*n» iLHiaw^
JOB PRINTING.
(1 OXXECTED with the office of the 3IIR-
J K(JR, is a splendid assortment of
And we are enabled to excute all bind of Job work,
in tin: neatest manner and at the sheitest notice.
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iif every description will constantly be kept on
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IX DTf'TMF.NTS,
DECLARATIONS,
MI'P'ENAS.
.HTR V SUMMONSES,
EXECUTIONS.
COST EXECUTIONS.
SHERIFFS IULLS OF SALE,
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3VL )R j GA< lES,
i. ,:t. admlnistration,
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do GUARDIANSHIP,
And a jr it many others for Justices of the
Fo ice. \ l l;jii• i. r.utora, Executors, Arc.
V v . . \ r i »\ VX W*v'>
vK- i ls>l\ ..k Jfi 4: >
Fro nth Phil i h lphi i !
Woman s smile.
Ou ! w hat a dreary waste would lie
This jovotts world of ours,
If happy hearts, the gay, the free,
Had lost their witching powers;
Or where's the charm, however bright,
Tim: cml ! our souls beguile,
With half so s.veet, so soil a light,
As that of Woman's smil:; !
Ou 1 Life would bo one joyless dream
Os honel rs mess and woe,
If ’f.vorc not for the sunny beam
Os beautious eyes below;
And ill earth’s llow'ra so fair, so sweet,
Would flourish but awhile,
If iu return they could not meet
The light of Woman’s smile !
Then if our hopes of bliss den nil
Ou such bright forms of love,
W hicli sofrlv with our spirits blend
Dear thoughts of bliss above ;
A\ iio on this earth could love to rest,
(E’en ia this flowery isle)
It tint existence be unblest
With aught of Woman’s smile!
Fro:ii the same.
THE VOWS OF MEN.
ity t. ii. nviLF.r.
Write on Hie'sand when the water is low,
Seek the spot vrh *n the waters flow;
Whisper a name when the storm is Si card ;
Pause the? echo may catch 'he word:
It what y m wrote ou 'h : sand should last,
lj, echo ;s heard hnid the tempest’s blast;
, PUm believe, and not till then,
iherc is truth in the vows of men !
I hrow a rose on the stream al morn,
M atch nt eve for the flower’s return;
Drop in the occau a golden grain,
Hope ’twill shine on 'he shore again:
me rose you again behold,
If you gaze outlie grain of gold,—
Then believe, and not till then,
There is truth hi the vows of men.
j March of Intellect.— Every generation grows wiser
uid wiser. A scene in a country kitchen
Ohl Woman. —Husband, what are the soil and
productions of Michigan ?
Bo >/. —Tar and turpentine, mamma.
Old Woman. —Hold your tongue you block
bead; i wanted to see if your father knew.
Quick Match. —Says I. ’Suekey ?’ and 1 winked.
Says she, ‘Why John?’ Rut says 1, ‘1 dont
menu something, Suekey.’ ‘The deuce, John, you
dont ? whit do you mean ?’ *1 mean to ask you
>t you will have me? ‘There, dang it, it’s all out
at last, liave you ? ‘Yes John and be glad too.’
s ays Suekey ; and so we started off, and had the
knot tied about the quickest—and it 1 did’ut teel
1 tinny, then J Lope 1 may be shot,
mm
QUEEN HORTENSE’S DIAMOND
NECKLACE.
One morning in the month of June, 1806, the
Empress Josephine's jeweller was shown into a
little apartment in the Tuiieries, in which Napo
leon was seated alone at breakfast.
“The necklace mustbeofa very superierkind,”
said Napoleon, addressing the jeweller. “1 do
not care about the price. Nevertheless, I shall
have the jewels examined by a competent judge.
Not that i doubt your honesty, 31. Foucier, but
because * * * * in short, oecuuse J am not myself
a perfect comm: seur. As scon as the necklace
is finish .1, bring it tome; and be .sure that you
show it to nobody. You understand ?”
“Perfectly, sire. Put* sliouid be very glad if
your majesty would grant me a little more time,
that 1 may be enabled to match the stones perfect
ly, one with apouier- Choice diamonds are very
rare at present * * * * and they have greatly risen
in price.”
At these words the emperor looked the jew
eller Pull in the face, and rising from his chair,
said—
“ What do you mean, Foucier? Aon know
that since the campaign of Germany you and your
brethren are absolutely overstocked with jewels.
1 know it to be a fact, that the French jewellers
have purchased all the diamonds offered for sale
by the petty princes of the confederation, who
have been ruined by rebelling against me. Go to
Rapts or Mcileno. '1 hey have literally heaps of
diamonds.”
“riire, l hope 1 shall not bo under the necessity
of applying to any one. '1 lie fact is, that I have
now at Lome a superb assortment of diamoucis
which 1 purchased for his majesty the King of Pru
sia, who has commissioned me to * *
“Thru is your hrmir.ess, sir,not mine,” hastily in
terrupted the emperor. “But recollect, Foucier,
added he, dm litrg;t sardonic glance at the jeweller,
“that when you work for me, you are not serving
the Ring of J’rusia. * * * Weii, well, I suppose i
may depend on you. Do your best, and prove
to your brethren beyond the Rhine that v.e can
surpass them in your t ailing as well as in all other
things.”
Axt a sign given 1«y Napoli on the jeweller bowed
for the lasi time, and 1 ft the -apartment.
lu about a week after Fouticr jv rented to the
emperor the mo t magnificent diamond necklace
imaginable, ’i lie pattern, the jewels, the work
manship of the mounting, al! were pencet. It
was quite a chief-d'ecure. Eveu Josephine s in
comparable e. i in contained no ornament that could
equal it. Napoleon had it valued, and it was de
clared to be worth 800,000 francs. This was not
more than the price demanded by Foucier, and
accordingly the emperor was perfectly satisfied.
About fids time, June, 1806, the Dutch people
had seated on the throne ot Holland Prince Louis
Bonaparte, one ci Napoleon’s younger broth
ers.
On .the day on which the Dutch ambassador
presented the crown of Holland to Napoleon, with
the request that he would place it on his brother’s
head, ail the French court was assembled at .St.
Cloud. Louis and Hortense had arrived that mor
ning from St. Leu. Napoleon gave orders that
the ceremony should take place in 'lie Satie da
Irene; and it was perf.rmcd with extrao id inary
pomp a:.d splendour, i fie emperor, who was in
charming spirits, announced to the Dutch envoys
that on tiic following day iLci;' king and queen
would depart for Holland. In the evening Hor
t- ncc was informed that the emperor wished to
speak with her in liis cabinet; and the usher, when
lie threw open the folding doors, announced, for
the first time, “litr majesty ti c Queen of Hol
land.”
“Hortense,” said the emperor, “you are called
to rule a brave ami good people. It you and your
husband conduct yourselves wisely, the Orange
family, with their old pretentions, will never again
return to Holland. The Dut li people have but
one fault, which is that they conceal, under an
outwar,lnspect of simplicity, an inordinate love ot
wealth and luxury. The vanity of being rich is
their ruling passion. Now, when you go to pre
si le in your new court, I should be sorry to hear
that you were eclipsed by the vulgar wife of some
burgomaster, whose pride lias no foundation but
her husband’s bags ut gold. 1 have purcuased a
little present for you, which I bag you will accept.
It is tliis necklace. Wear it sometimes for my
sake.”
So saying, Napoleon clasped on the brilliant
necklace round the swan-like throat of Queen
llontense. He then embraced her affectionately,
and bade her farewell.
When once installed at the, court of Amsterdam,
Hortense did ample honour to her step lather’s
present; and ou all state occasions at the Mai son
■ le Hois the splendid diamond necklace attracted
general admiration.
But adverse fate approached. Napoleon’s sun
was beginning to set; and the radiance which it
shed on the thrones of Spain, Westphalia, arid
Naples, was growing dim. Hortense descended
from the throne, as she had mounted it, iu smiling
obedience. When her Dutch subjects first be
held her, on her arrival, they greeted her with
cries of “Long live our lovely queen!” On her
departure, they cried, “Farewell to our good
queen!” To a heart like that of Ilortense’s this
testimony of a nation’s regard aftorded no small
compensation even tor the loss ot a crown.
From that moment she d'voted herself to the
education of her children, and to the consolation
of her beloved mother, who, like lierseil, had
retired into the privacy of dune,tie hte having a
dorned a court.' Still fondly attached to France
an 1 devoted to the emperor, Hortense eagerly
looked for an opportunity when .“he might efface
from Napoleon s mini! the uu j ust prejudices which
during his exile to Elba, had been raised against
her. That opportunity soon presented itself.
The cuauou of Waterloo had ceased to roar,
and the emperor Ind been force itu quit the Kly
see and to take rofuge at Malmaisoii, the last a
bode of poor Josephine Napoleon was there,
FLORENCE, GA. FRIDAY, MAY 4, 1833.
| not like Charles XII. at Bender, surrounded bv a
few faithful officers and servants, but forsaken and
lonely, like Kelisurius in the Hippodrome, with no
companion but his faithful sword. He was sit
ting in mournful comtemplatiou beside a table, on
which lay a copy of his second abdication, when
he was surprised by the entrance of a lady. He
raised his eyes towards her, and recognised Hor
teuse.
“Sire,” said sh \ in a voice faltering with emo
tion, “perhaps your majesty may recollect a gift
which you presented to rue at St. Cloud. It is
nine years ago this very day.”
Napoleon took her hand, ana gazing affection
ately on the daughter of Josephine, lie said—
“Weil, what have you to say to me ?”
“Sire,” she replied, “when you couferred upon
me the title of queen, you presented me with this
necklace. The diamonds are of great value. 1
am no longer a queen, and you are in adversity.
1 therefore entreat, sire, that you will permit me to
restore the gift.”
“Keep your jewels, Hortense,” said Napoleon,
coolly. “Alas! they are now perhaps the only
property that you aid your chiiureu possess.”
“They are indeed, sire, liut what of that ?
My children v. ill never reproach their mother for
having shared with her benefactor the riches which
he was pleased to confer eti her.”
As Hortense utterted these words, she melted
into tears. Napoleon, too, was deeply moved.
“No,” said he tr.-uing aside, and gently repel
ling the hand which Hortense held out to him.
“No, it imrt not he.”
“Take i., sire, I conjure you. There is no time
to lose. Moments are precious. They are com
ing, sire. Take it, 1 beg of you ?”
By the urgent entreaties of Hortense, the em
peror was at length prevailed on to accept the
necklace, and in a few hours after it was sewed
lightly within a silken girdle which he wore under
hi, waistcoat.
About six weeks after this time Napoleon left
the Belleroplien to go on board the Northumber
land. The [ arsons who accompanied the ex-cm
peror, and who had obiained permission to share
his exile, were requested to deliver up their arms.
Whilst the search of the baggage was going on,
Napoleon was walking with Count de Las Cases
on tLe poop of the Beilerophon. Aftpr looking
around him cautiously, and still continuing to con
verse on subjects quite foreign from the cue lie
was thinking of, lie drew from beneath his waist
coat the girdle in which the necklace vv as conceal
ed. Placing it in the hands of his interlocutor,
he said, with a melancholy smile, “My dear Las
Cases, a certain Greek philosopher, whose name
! think was Bias, used to say that he carried all
his fortune about his person, though he had not a
shirt to his back. 1 don’t know how ho managed,
but I know that since my departure from Paris, i
have been carry ing the bulk of my fortune under
my waistcoat —I find it troublesome —1 wish you
would keep it for me.” Without making any re
ply, M. de Las Cases took the girdle, fastened it
round his waist, and buttoned his coat over it.
It was uot until Napoleon’s arrival at bt. lie: ena
that he informed 31. Las Cases ol the value ot toe
deposit which' he had confided to his care six
months previously. He then told him that it was
a diamond necklace,, worth 800,000 francs. On
several subsequent occasions Las Cases proposed
to restore it; but the emperor declined receiving
“Does it incommode you, Las Cases ?” said
he.
“No, sire,” replied T.as Cases; “but-* * *”
“Noiise s , keep it,’’said the emperor. “Can
not von fancy it to be ainuL t cr a charm, and then
you will find it no annoyance.”
About fifteen months afterwards (in Nov. 1815),
M. de Las Cases was removed from St. Helena.
One day when he was at Lougvvood, engaged iu
convers 't o.i with the emperor, a messenger entered
and informed him that the English colonel .was
waiting to communicate to him something Irom
Sir Hudson Lowe. Las Cases replied that lie
was engaged with his majesty, and could not at
tend the colonel at that moment.
“Go, count, go,” said Napoleon. “See what
they want; but be sure you return and Amo with
me.”
Count de Las Cases never beheld the emperor
ao-ain. A party of dragoons were already station
ed round the house. 31. de Las < uses and his
son (who was then very ill), were conducted from
Longwood to Plantation House, where they were
closely guarded until they embarked for the Cape
of Good Hope.'
Meanwhile Las Cases still retained the diamond
necklace iu his possesion; and this circumstance
gave Him not a little uneasiness. Time vas hurry
ing on, and he learned that he hail only a few days
to remain at St. Helena. He was tormented by
tire fear of being compelled to depart without hav
ing an opportunity of restoring the treasure to
its illustrious owner. W hat was to be done ?—all
communication with Longwood was strictly pro
hibited. Au idea struck him, and he resolved at all
risks to carry it info tfi t. There was an Eng
lish officer who had reet atly arrived at St. Helena,
and with whom Las (’ases had formed some slight
acquaintance, lie had been pleased with the gen
tleman! v manners ot tnis Englishman, and tne
liberal and generous feeling indicated ir: the little
conversation he hud with him. This officer hap
pened to come to Plantation House, and (_ omit
Las Cases, being left alone with him for a few
moments, made him his confidant.
“.Sir,” said Las Cases to the officer, who spoke
French tolerably well, “1 believe you to be a man
of honour and feeling, and I have resolved to ask
you to render me a service, which will put those
qualities to the test. In the first place, let me as
sure vou that the favour 1 am about to request
will involve no violation ot your duty; but it
deeply concerns my honour, and that ot my fami
ly. To come at "nee to the point, I wish to re
store to the emperor a valuable deposit which he
placed in my hands. V* ill you take charge of it,
and contrive some means oi returning it to him ?
If you will, my son si: and! seize ;ui opportunity cf
slipping it unperceived into your pocket.”
At this moment someone approached, and ihe
officer could reply only by a look and gesture ex
pressive of his assent. Qe then retired to a lit
tle distance. Young Las Cases, who was with his
lather, had received his instructions, and Queen
ilortensc’s necklace was soon piaced in the otfi
«,vr’s pocket, uuperceived by any one, though all
: i • governor’s staff within sight.
But the most dilficult part of the undertaking
was yet to be performed—namely, to restore the
necklace to its destination. Au interval of two
years elapsed ere this could be accomplished.
Ail’ter the departure of Count Las Cases, the
emperor fancied he could perceive that the sur
veillance exercised over him was even mi-re rigid
than before. He could not stir out of the house
at Longwood without seeing an English officer
who, from a little distance, closely watched all his
movements. In the morning, in the evening, or
at whatever time hr. went out, this same officer
was always hovering about him like his shadow.
This sort of inquisition was the more annoying,
inasmuch as the officer had several times mani
fested the intention of speaking to him. The
consequence was, that as soon as the empCror saw
him approach, he it a rule to cut short his
promenade and go in doors.
One day Napoleon thought he was much more
closely watched than usual, and turning round
angrily, he exclaimed, “W hat means this annoy
ance ! Can l not come out to inhale a little
fresh air, without having a spy on all my footseps?”
The emperor walked towards the house, and the
officer, who had heard the words wiiich fell from
him, quickened liis pace, followed, and overtook
Hi in. In a few moments he stood before Napo
leon. “Sire !” said lie, in a tone of profound
respect, “Be goi:* 1 , sir! be gone!” interrupted
Napoleon, ivltli a gesture ol contempt; “there
can be no communication between me and your
employers ! 1 desire you to be gone !”
“Sire!” resumed the officer, with perfect com
posure, and without moving a step, “your majesty
is mistaken.” He then hastily uttered the words
“Count Las Cases—Queen Ilortcnse’s neck
lace ”
“All! ah !” exclaimed the emperor, stopping
short, and looking at the officer—“\\ hat have you
to say, sir ?”
“Will your majesty,” continued the officer, “be
pleased to continue your walk without appearing
so notice me. 1 have the necklace here. For
the space of two years 1 have constantly carried
it about my person, and have been seeking to res
to:e it to you. Give me now an opportunity of
throwing i> into your hat; for even now 1 cannot
venturi'to give it to you, lest I shouldbeobserved.”
The cmpeior took oil' his hat and passed his
hand ovet liis forehead, as he was in the habit of
doing when absorbed in thought. At that instant
the officer threw the necklace into the emperor’s
liar, and said, in a low tone of voice, “Now i hope
your majc :v will forgive my importunity. 1 have
fulfilled my mission, sire, and l will trouble you
co more. May Heaven bicss and preserve your
majesty!” iio then retired, and Napoleon saw
no more of him.
At tH M-a.l of April, 1821, some days before his
death, Napoleon summoned General Montholon
to 1.1 1 bed side. “My dear friend,” said, he, in a
low tone of voice, and turning liis languid eyes
towards the general, “1 have under my pillow a dia
mond ncck’aee of considerable value, belonging to
Hortense. 1 have lia imy reasons for not letting
any one here know that 1 possessed this treasure.
It is mv d»siie that as soon as 1 shall breathe my
last you take charge of it, and on your return to
France (should you ever be fortunate enough to
see your native land again, restore it to Hortense.
If, as is not improbable, she should die of grief be
fore von return, give the necklace to her children,
my neplir.vs.”
“Sire.” replied the general, overpowered by
grief, “1 swear to fulfil your commands.”
“I fee! assured that you will, Montholon,” said
Napoleon, cordially pressing liis hand ; “now I
die satisfied.”
The emperor’s disorder was making rapid pro
gress. As soon as General Montholon was in
formed that ho could not survive more than a few
hours, he hastened to liis bed-ride. There, like a
watchful s 'ntiiie!, he stood silently and mournful
ly awaiting the moment when the august sufferer
should draw liis last breath. When that moment
arrived, Dr. Antomarchi announced it by the aw
ful words, “AM is over!” Montholon then recol
leeting his oath, slipped his hand under the pillow
which supported the hero’s bead, and secretly re
moved the treasure which had baea bequeathed to
his i barge.
After long and perilous wandering in Amereica
and in different parts of Europe, General Montlio
lon was at length permitted to return to France.
Alter paying a visit to liis aged mother, he set off
for Areneniberg, to present to the ex-queen of
Hoi! r.id the necklace, which in her eyes was now
doubiv consecrated by recollections of happiness
and misfortune. Hortense indeed regarded it as
an object almost sacred; and she suffered a most
painful struggle with I or feelings when, in a mo
ment of distress, imperious circninstances com
pelled her to part with it. The King < f Bavaria
offered to purchase it by the payment of 23,000
frati.'s, si.utled on Hortense. The agreement was
ratified, and two years afterwards Hortense ceased
to live. The King of Bavaria has consequently
paid only 46,000 francs for an object worth 800,-
000. Kings, it must be confessed, sometimes make
fortunate" Bargains. This circuinsance serves to
explain why the magnificent necklace, the adven
tures of which are above related, was mentioned
iu the will of tire ex-queen of Holland.— Court.
Journal.
Mcmnri/. —Perhaps the most remarkable instance
on record of the power of memory is one related
of William Liar, a strolling player, who wagered
a ci i wn bowl of punch that he u ould repeat a Daily
Advertiser, a paper then crammed with advertise
ments from beginning to end. The next morning,
notwithstanding the want of connection between
the paragraphs, the variety of advertisements, and
the general chaos which goes to the composition
of any newspaper, he repeated it from beginning
to end without '.ho least hesitation or mistake.
Vol. I.—No. 6,
From the Philadelphia Visiter.
THE LOVER’S QUARREL.
“Alas! how slight a cause may move
Dissentiou between hearts that love*”
"Will the reader please to picture an appart.#.ent
in the mansion of Lord Hartly, appropriated to
the use of his daughter, the Lady Caroline Alton;
her dressing-room, li «as about nine o’clock by
the French dial, upon which her eyes were fixed.
Her manner was abstracted and serious ; she ap
peared to be thinking ot' any tiling rather than
what her maid was speaking of, which was, wheth
er “my lady would choose to wear pearls tonight,”
upou the fourth repetition of which question, the
lady turned impatiently, and answered, “Y'es—no
—stay ; Ido not think I will go,” and then relap
sed'into her previous abstraction.
Lady Caroline Alton was an only child ; a great
beauty, a great heiress, anda \leetle spoiled. She
was generous and kindhearted to all, but capri
cious and self-willed to many and among the rest,
to one who the least deserved, and wasMhe’lcastdis
posed to bear it. The one we speak of was
Charles Leslie, a gentleman in the only true sei*e
of the term, that is to say, he had a noble heart
joined to a clear head ; lie saw the faults of Lady
Caroline, and trembled for their future peace, but
lie remembered she had not a mother to guide her,
and that her father was too much immersed in pol
itics, and too proud of her to notice and check
her impetuosity ; lie remembered too—but what
will a lover not remember or invent iu exteuuatiou
of the loved one!
lie had known her from a child, and had some
time since given her a bracelet in wiiich was set
his miniature ; this bracelet was now tire cause ot
the lady’s abstraction. Lc siio and liorsclt had
met at a party the previous evening and had not
separated the best of friends. Among many
others of the same stamp who were assembled at
tlie party, was a Mr. Mordaunt, one of a race just
ly called “butterflies.” who serve by their glitter
to dazzle and amusa, but are of no eaitlily use
besides, lie was light, vain, and handsome, just
such a one as Lady Caroline would like to flirt
with oue hour and forget the next; but Leslie
» as no admirer of flirting, dud not at all disposed
to conquer his dislike iu favour of Henry Mcr
daunt and liis “own Caroline.” But to return-
Leslie had displeased her about some trifle, so
she determined to vex trim by receiving,- not un
willingly it would seem, the lia.terics and atten
tions of Mordaunt; this had been carried so far
the night before, that when encouraged by her
manner and glad of an opportunity to annoy Les
lie, lie had asked her to waltz, she consented.
This she knew was sufficient to annoy him at any
time. What a pity love is so selfish a passion !
As is, usual in all cases, one wrong step led to
another. In w altzing, Mordaunt must, accident
ly of course, have pressed her arm and in so doing
unclasped the bracelet which she always wore.
Leslie was standing looking on with a very com
posed countenance, and a very indignant and an
gry heart, when the bracelet fell near his feet;
his first impulse was to walk away, but lie repres
sed it until lie deposited the ornament in his w aist
coat pocket, he then left tHe room, and Caroline
saw no more of him for the evening. Fhe re
turned home, intoxicated with flattery and proud
of her new conquest, but with a vague, restless,
uneasy feelim: al her heart.
The morning came, and with it visiters in plen
ty, but not him who was the most regular, and, to
tell the truth, the most welcome of all. She in
quired, but no card had been left. She remem
bered promising Mordaunt the night before that
she would see him at the Opera that night, and
she was now hesitating whether or not she would
keep her promise, and wondering how Charles
Leslie would return her bracelet, or whether it
would be proper for her to ask him for it. “It is
nine o’clock,” she repeated to herself, “nine o’-
clock, and he lias not been all day! lam sure
there was not much harm m my waltzing and sing
ing duels with Mordaunt, and if there were, it
was Charles’ fault; he certainly has a very Lad
temper. How stupiid of me,” sho continued, as
her maid again reminded her of dressing, “how
ridiculous of me to wait, he will be sure not to
come now, and it is no consequence to me it in*
does not come at all.” But her heart cast back
the assertion, and when the next moment a ca
briolet stopped at the door, it set her heart trem
bling, and her checks blushing in a very onmiotis
manner. She heard him enter the draw ning-room,
and calling up courage and coolness to assist her,
went to join him. lie was standing at a table
reading—! most unfortunate —u card from Hcnrv
Mordaunt, which he had, for the first time, pre
sumed that d.iy to leave at her door. Leslie laid
it dow non her entrance. “Good evening Lady
Caroline, said he, ia the coldest possible tone.
The indy returned the greeting with as cold a bow,
she dared not trust her voice. There was a short
silence; the gentleman was evidently hesitating
how to begin, lie made up his mind at last, how
ever, and taking great pains to speak in a calm
steady voice, which iu very spite ot him would
tremble a iittle, said;
“I took the liberty of intruding at this hour.
Lady Caroline Alton, as it i ; probable 1 may not
have another opportunity previous to my leaving
England.”
The lady started almost from her seat, but
Leslie had been looking quite in a contrary direc
tion, and when he heard the rustling of her dress,
you might have traced a gleam of satisfaction on
his face, but it disappeared instantly on his turning
round and perceiving her playing with her dog
which lay ou the ottoman at her feet, and paying
much greater attention to him than to the haughty
geutlemau opposite her. 11c resumed in a much
firmer voice. .
“Vnur conduct of last evening was quite suffi
cient to convince me that I had lost any little in
terest I once flattered mvself that I possesed over
vour heart; for had uot ihat been the ease, regard
lor my feelings, cicn had you none for vour own
character, would have forbidden your very remar
kable behaviour towards that consumate fool, that;
1 beg your par ® , Madam, towards Mr. Henry
Mordaunt. I have to return also a tiiuket which
you dropped Vast night whff* waltzing,”