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13 V GARDNER eN 13ARROW D published every Friday, i» Florf.xce, Stewart county, (’a- at IHERE DODLAUS.i it paid in advance, or FOUR DOLLARS, it' not paid until the end of the year. AuvertisumEiNTS wili be conspicuously inserted at One Dollar per square, (15 lines) the first, and 50 cents for each subsequent ins rtiou. Nothing under 15 lines will lie considered l<*s« than a syiare. A deduction will be made lor yearly ad yprl Ml “Ill'S. \!1 a.i»ertise;:DnU handed in for publication whhaui »limitation, will be published ti,l forbid, and charged accordingly. .‘' lies of Lfo.nl ami Negroes by Executors, Ad uiinistrators and are required by law ~, ;, e advertised in a public Gazette, sixty days previou.' to t'ne day ot sale. ts •'* :a lil.e ilia o w forty days. Not'ce t 1 Debtors and Creditors of an estate must be publish* ! forty days. Noii. e ih.it applsc ion wdl be trr-le to the p ,)urt of Ordinary tor leave to sell l/'ial arid Ne ,.ro •*, must b ■ published weekly for fmr monihs. *>-•>» vq >•(.-. yn bud:! -s must be post run to iiH’tr' at __ JOJJ PRINTING. (1 < >\NE<’TE D with the office of the 31111- J ROR, is a spleu lid assortment of 'it- <s2j. ) And we are enabled to oxctlte all kind of Job v ovk, i:i the neatest manner and at the slimi “l nottci . ■< e. A 'w »*’ ,; i Cl£jLi)Aii of everv description will constantly be kept on li l.id, such as INDICTMENTS. DKCL VR AT IONS, srr.r-KNAs. JURY SUMAIONSES, K NEC FT IONS. (’(IST EXECUTIONS. Si IKR IFF s HILLS OF SALE', d:> DEEMS, TAM) DEEDS, srMM'.’NSES, do E NSCCF i’l >NS, M> >rtg ages, LET. ADM INTSTR VTfON, do TEST AMENTA IIV, do ‘MW' SHIP, \nd a great uni)v otiicrs lev Justices of the ]’ea •»-. A 1-iiinisir itors. Executor t. Ac. an vct rpO incorporate th“ town ; f Florence, in the e.. countv oi Stav .ii'i, a a.I appoint Coinniis sio lers for th * same : S.:c. 1. B it . n i ’■ l by!' its, an l Ht in < nf /Nor, u.ititirrsif •!.,■ Si if Georgia, in pm i ■i 1 Anse n hi}l met, a tut H N /••• >-bj matted h>j the authority of the * :thr, That fraui and alter the pas sage of this act, Asaph R. li 11, I uotnas Gardner, Awl P. Rood, .los iph M. Aliii-r and Benjamin Gardner are hereby appointed Commissioners for tile Town of Florence, in toe county ot ,Stew art, aad they, ora majority of them, and their succes sors in office, shall have -p -r and authority to piss all laws and ordinance:: \v,sic,i they, or a ma jority of them mav deem expedient and necessary for the well govern u'ut and good order ot said Town: Fm-idid, said by law- and regulations af fc uot repu~e.a it to the Constitution and Law of this State. Sec. 0. Ad’’ It sues, r• a vied bj the author ity of the so i ", Tint on tlio first Saturday in Jan uary, the year eight • m u.ta Ire ! an 1 thirty-eight, and in each and every year thereafter, all free white male p-mim in til ‘ corporate limits of said town of Florence as here at,o' prescribed and lim i; I. who am- entitle I t > vote for Members to the >tau- \j■' yi-lat lire, s'.ia;i asseuiole at tue Ootnmis ,i ,;i room in <• .!t>v i, and by bal'ot elect five commissioners wh » - ; h ill ■“' :n in office for one ir. an 1 until their : : elected* at which election on.’ or more ma gistrates shall ['.re side; and in case of resignation, removal or death of any of said ('mini, -iei'r:, the remaining I Commissioners shall- have power to fill such va i eauey for the time being. Skc. :i. An / It ■ ’t further enacted hy the autbnri hj aforesaid, That the corporate authority and ju risdiction of said Commissioners shall include the wh ilc of lot No. ninety and all of fractions Nos. eighty-nine a id ciglity-eight. Sec. 4. And b it further emitted bf the authori ty i.foresail/, That the said Commissioners shall lay and collect a tax for the support of said town. Skc. 5. And hr i f further cnar.tfd b/ the: avlhor i‘;i aforesaid. That the inhabitants of said Town shall be free from road duty without the limits of s till Corporation. All laws and parts of laws mil itating against this act be and the same are hereby repealed. JOSEPH DAY, Speaker of the House of Representatives. ' ROBERT M. ECHOLS, / ’/ esidmtof the Senate. I Assented to, 14th December, 1847. GEORGE 1L GILMER, Governor. Skcrktauv of State’s Office, / Ali tied Seville, V.\th April, 1838 \ 1 certify that the foregoing is a true copy from I th" original of file in this office. | Given under my hand and seal of office. ' WM. A. TENNILLK, (j Secretary of State. I FOlt SALE. I accommodating terms, a line young Mule, 1 , Jr r)e r t ec t] v jrputle, works well in the wagon lor plough. For further Ttartieulars apply to the I B'i!i Tiber at Pleasant Grow one aad a half miles ■ from El;,retire. FRANKLIN COWAN. May it l#)8 5t 1 lulls 3, From the. Southern Literary Messenger. THE GAME OF CHESS. By the Authoress of “The Cottage in the Glen,” “Sensibility,” “Losing and Winning,” “Fash ionable and Unfashionable Wife,” <Nc. “I can scarcely believe my senses,” said Air. Chauucey, as he was one morning sitiing with Airs. Atkins; “1 can scarcely believe my senses, when I see my old classmate, whom I left just out of college, and my little friend, Susan Leigh, whom I found sitting on her father’s knee, when I called to take leave before my departure for Europe— now married—settled - established in life! It seems impossible ! I have always thought of you as a child!” Mrs. Atkins smiled. “You forget that we arc all six years older than when you left us; and perhaps you forget, too, that i was the y oungest child, and had the privilege of sitting ou my fa ther's knee much longer than daughters are w ont to do. You and Charles are-about the same age, and lam but five years my husband’s juuior. Do you feel too young to marry /” “O, no,— I ant now six-and-twenty—one year vour husband’s senior; and now that my wander ings are over, I should really like to many soon, could J find a woman possessing those qualities 1 wish in a wife, who would unite her fate with mine.” “I conclude your taste has beeutfiC fastidious, from your observation of beauty and accomplish ments in Europe,” said Airs. Atkins. “No—-not exactly so—but from close observa tion of domestic life, I design to be guided by judgment, rather than fancy in mv choice ; and sincerely hope l shall never be so much fascinated by the charms ot any; one, as to be uuuhlc to form a correct opinion of her real character.” “You will not find it -particularly easy to fall in love designedly,''' said Mrs. Atkins, laughing; “nor to save yourself in love, by the dibi ts ol rea son and judgment. Os one thing, however, your remark has satisfied me—at present you are com pletely heart-whole.” “That is certainly (rue ; and it is eqnally true that I am perfectly willing to fall in love with the first ladv I meet, with whom there is, a reasonable hope of living happily.” “You really contemplate the subject with the most enviable coolness," said Mrs. Atkins, again laughing. “I do not recollect to have heard any young gentleman talk of love and matrimony with such perfect calmness and sell-possession. How charming it will be, should the lady ot your choice exercise as much judgment, and have as little en thusiasm as yourself! Truly, nothing would be likely to disturb ‘the even tenor ol your way! “It is very possible to talk ol fire w ithout grow ing warm,” said Mr. Cliauncey, smiling. “But riousiv, f hope to love my wife, should I ever meiTv, with my whole soul. W hat misery to have one with such discordant qualities, as w ould alternately kindle and quench the lh.une ot afiec tioii! The heart must soon wither under such a process! It is my full belief, that ‘L’hvmcn et ses lines Sent le plus grands ou des inaux ou dcs bless, and 1 would therefore use circumspection in a mat ter of so in licit consequence. Let me rather pur 'iie the journey ot life alone, than to leel a doubt whether the society of »'y Wnb will increase or diminish my happiness ! Should my heart ever be warmed to love,” he added, while his eyes beamed in a manner that showed how deeply lie could love—“ Should my heart ever be warmed to love, may its fire beuncoaT gly fed by the same gentle hand that first kindled thefiame—and may it burn brighter and clearer until lost in that woild, the ei.ly element of which is love! May my wile be a gentle spirit to accompany me in the path to heaven, and lure me back to it, it tempte I to stiay; mi l not a sc u ge to drive me thither as the only place of refuge from herself!” “You have grown so solemn, Air. Cliauncey,” said Mrs. Atkins, “and seem to look for a wile so free from human imperfections, so angelic, that 1 am almost at raid to tell you that I am expecting a visit from two ot my young lriends, with one or other of whom 1 had hoped you might be pleas soil.” “I do not expect freedom from human imper fections, Mrs. Atkins: buts do hope for freedom from gross defects. Lut who are these fncnds ol whom you speak ?” “The eldest, who is not far from my own age, is my cousin, Augusta Leigh—and tin other is Abby Eustace, mv favorite school-friend, who ir tw o years younger.” “And can you tell me nothing concerning them but their names and ages?” asked Mr. (Miami, eey. “No—positively I will tellyou nothing else, ex eept that cither of them is pretty enough for a mati whs does riot make beauty his first requsite in a wife; and each has fortune enough lor one who does not marry expressly for money, inis is all I will tell you; but as they will he here in the course of a week, you will have opportunity of studying their respective characters for your soli After a few minutes’ thoughtful silence, Mr. Cliauncey said — . “No, Mrs. Atkins, T think I shall not be fasti dious : I think 1 shall he able to overlook imper fections in my wife, as I hope she woulu he v idieg to do in me. Qualities and acquirements which many might deem indispensible, l could dispense with; but there is one quality that l consider of primary importance —and next to pure and !iim principles, that is what I shall seek for in my choice.” “And what is that ?” asked Mrs. Atkins. “You will forgive me if I do not answer that question. 1 wish to observe and judge lor mys H« and shall be more likely to judge correctly, if it is not known for what l am looking. ’ “Well,” said Mrs. Atkins, “you appear very moderate and reasonable in your demands and yet, were 1 jm» unmarried lady, I should be more afraid o! vou than of any young gentleman T have seen. Reallv, you are so calm, and reasonable, FLORENCE, GA. FRIDAY, MAY 18, 1838. and scrutinizing, as to be quite terrifying. Give tne the creature of impulse—of passion—of en thusiasm, who will be too much carried away with his own feelings, to be able to investigate my cha racter too nicely; whose warm imagination wil clothe me in virtues and attractions ot its own ros, hues. Surely,” she added, after a momentary pause, “Surely had Charles been of your tein perament, 1 should never have known the happi ness of being his wife!” One day, about a week after the preceding con versation had taken place, Mrs. Atkins was seated in her parlor with her two friends, who had arrived a day or two before, when Miss Leigh, raising her eyes fromthe work that was in her hand to an op niuUow, inquired who the elegant looking young man was, conversing with a lady, on the other side of the street. “That?” said Mrs. Atkins, advancing to the window—“thaOs Mr. Chauucey, one of Charles’s old friends.” “Horace Cliauncey, who recently returned from Europe ?” asked Miss Leigh. ' “The same,” answered Mrs. Atkins. “He will give us a call, presently, 1 dare say, as lie comes here very often.” Before Mr. Cliauncey arrives, there is just time to sketch a hasty outline of the portraits of the two young ladies. Miss Leigh was tall, well made, and commanding in her person. Her face was brilliant, with black eyes, and dark hair, but rather pale than otherwise, except when tinted by some degree of excitement. Miss Eustace was rather be.'ow the medium stature of woman, beautifully formed, # and the most cheerful, happy looking creature in the world. Her eyes, shaded by long silken laslics, were of an undefiuable color, and were dark or light, as intellect and feeling were awakened, or lay quiet. Her face was blooming ; yet the color was so constantly changing its shade, that it seemed but the attendant ou a heart “alive to every touch of joy or woe.” Mrs. Atkins was aight. In a few’ minutes Mr, Cliauncey came in, and was made acquainted with the young ladies. When Miss Leigh’s name was mentioned, she calmly raised her eyes, and an swered his civilities with the self-possession that is common to well-bred young ladies, ou being made known to a stranger; but when Miss Eustace's turn came, her color was heightened to a burning glow, and a slight and rather tremulous courtsey, was the only answer she made to the few words of compliment he uttered.-—“ Has he forgotten thought she, as she resumed her seat—“ Can he have forgotten ?” Mr. C'hauncey lengthened liis visit to nearly an hour, but it differed not materially from other visits oft. si mi liar kind. The conversation was of a general and desultory character, and carried on in a lively manner by Mrs. Atkins, Mr. Chauucey, and Miss Leigh—Miss Eustace never uttered a word, except when directly addressed. On taking leave, Mr. Chatincey promised to profit by the in vitation of Mrs Atkins, to visit them very frequent ly. He was literally in search of a uafe; and it was Ins w ish to become really acquainted with those young ladies he met, in whom there was nothing which from the first moment told him that an union with them was impossible. The two friends of Mrs. Atkins we e certainly not of this number, and his study of their characters soon became deeply interesting; that of Miss Leigh, because she had a great deal of character; was free, entertaining, even fascinating in conversation, with a heart overflow ing with kindly feelings, and a head filled with noble sentiments and indepen dent thought; that of Miss Eustace, because lie had to judge her by her countenance, as she was extremely retiring and taciturn when he was [ire sent. Her face, however, was no very dull study ; for of her i . of any one, it might perhaps have Been said—“her body thought;” and occasional ly, when he met her eye, there was a flash across iiis memory of something lie had long before seen, or felt, or dreamed—an undefitiable sensation of pleasure, but too evanescent to be caught or re tained. “How do you like Susan’s guests, Horace?” Mr. Atkins inquired one day, after Mr. Chauucey had seen them a number of times. “How am I to form an opinion of Miss Eustace?” asked Mr. Cliauncey. “She indeed tools very much alive, but never utters a word v. L :n she can avoid it.” “How!” said Mr. Atkins. “I have never dis cover'd that she is not as conversable and enter taining as Augusta, and far more jlUyliil.” “Indeed!” said Mr. Cliauncey. “But it lias certainly not been so when I have met them. I flunk Miss Leigh pccub - :iy brilliant and pleasing in conversation. She appears to be a fine—a no ble givl.” “They are both fine, noble girls.” said Mr. At i ins. “It is not evi ry day that w e meet those who are equally so.” Mr. Atkins had net often been at home when his friend was at his house, but Mr. f h iuncey s re mark led him to notice Miss Eustace particularly whenever he witnessed their succeeding inter views. One evening Mr. C'hauncey was with them, and Mr. Atkins chanced to lie seated a lit tle apart from liis wife, hercousin, and Mr. Chaun cey, who were, as usual iri the full tide of con versation, when Miss Eustace, on rising to leave the room, passed near him. He caught her, hand, ami drawing her toward him, said, in a low tone — “Where is your voice this evening, Abhy?” “My voice!” said Miss Eustace. “O, I am glad you have not lost it—but why have you not spoken lor these two hours ! “And have I not ?” asked Miss Eustace. “Scarcely,” answered Mr. Atkins. “Then 1 suppose it was because I had nothing to pay,” said the smiling girl. “Rut you are not usually so silent,” remarked Mr. Atkins. “Perhaps it would be better if I went. But truly, though you may doubt if, there are times when I had much rather listen than talk.” “Especially when my friend Horace is exerting his colloquial powers! hoy?” “Just as you please, sir,” said Miss Eustace, again smiling, but with some little appearance of ■mbarrassment, and withdrawing her hand, she left the room, Mr. Cliauncey did profit by the invitation of Mrs. Atkins, to visit her vejy frequently. Miss Eustace interested him. He loved, when not too much engrossed in conversation himself, to watch tiie bright, the cheerful, the intellectual, the ever varying expression of her countenance. Her eyes seemed fountains of light, and love, and hap piness; and the dimples about her mouth and cheeks, the very abode of joy and content. There was sonieting about her to soothe ami exhilerate at the same time. Miss Leigh soon awakened in him a ii( eper, a more engrossing Interest. Her talents, which were neither concealed nor dis played, commanded his admiration; her compas sionate feelings and elevated principles won liis esteem; so that scarcely three weeks had elapsed from the commencement of his acquaintance with her, ere he was more sedulously aiming to learn how he might render himself acceptable to her, than to ascertain whether the indispensable quality foragood w ife, w as a component part of her char acter. One fine morning, Mr. and Mrs. Atkins, Mr. Chauucey, and the young ladies, were to go out on horseback. The three former were ready and waiting in the parlor, w hen the two latter came from their chamber. “You have very becoming riding-caps, young ladies,” said Mr. Atkins, “but I think neither of yon have put them on quite right. Come, Abby,” he added, playfully, "let me adjust yours more to my mind.” “O, do,” said Miss Eustace, holding up her blooming face; “make me look as pretty as you possibly can.” “There !” said Mr. Atkins, after drawing the cap a little more on one side; “1 will leave it to the company if that is not a great improvement. Now. Augusta, lot me try my hand at yours.” “No, thank von, sir,” said Miss Leigh, elevating her head, while her color was somewhat heigh tened—“l will wear my cap according to my own taste this morning, if you please,” “O i beg a thou rand pardons for my presump tion,” said Mr. Atkins—“ Your taste is certainly much more correct than mine—l really beg your pardon.” Miss Leigh made no reply, but gave her hand to Mr. Cliauncey, who was waiting to receive it, and the little party immediately started on their excursion. For awhile they all were rather silent, and seemed entirely engrossed in the management of their horses ; but the weather was charming— their exercise exhileratirig; and erelong each one was enjoying a fine How „f spirits. They rode several miles, and on their return home encoun tered a company of Irish people, men, women, and children. They looked way-worn and weary; and the faces of some of the children even wore an expression, of anxiety and depression, as if they felt all the force of the friendlessness, the help lessness of strangers in a strange land. Mr. At kins and his friends stopped to talk with them a few minutes, and bestow charity accoi ding to each one’s ability or inclination, and then rode on. “O, Mr. Chauucey,” said Miss Leigh, in a low tone, after riding a little way in silence, “what pitiable objects those people were ! As good by nature, and undoubtedly, some of thorn at least, much more amiable in disposition than myself— why is it that there is so vast a difference in our lots? How is it that I can ever be ungrateful or perverse, while thus distinguished by unnumbered and undeserved blessings!” Her tone was that of flic deepest sympathy and humility, and her eyes were swimming in tears as she spoke. Had Mr. Chauncey uttered the thought of his heart, lie would have told, her, that she was the most amiable, the most lovely, the most deserving among the whole family of man! And liis eyes did utter it, so far as eyes are capable of utterance, though his tongue only spoke of the vast dispari ty that Infinite Wisdom sees best to make in the outward circumstances of his creatures in this world. When about taking leave at Mr. Atkins’ door, Mr. Cliauncey received a pressing 1 invitation to return to take tea and spend the eve ning—nn invitation he promptly accepted. At an early hour in the evening Mr. Chauncey was seated amid !;is circle of friends in Mrs. At kins’ parlor. Before tea was brought in, and while at the table, conversation flowed as usual; anil it was conversation : --the exercise of the mind—the c dtision of wit—the interchange of opinion—the expression of sentiment; —and not the idle and frivolous chit-chat, nor the oftentimes mis chievous and envenomed gossip, that is sometimes so misca’fpif. After the tea-things w-ere removed, and the ladies had settled themselves to their sev eral employments, Mr. Chauncey, at the request of Mrs. Atkins, read aloud the best of Mrs. Opie’s tales, namely, “White Lies.” Mr. Chann ccy’s vrice was rich and mellow, his intonations and emphaf ii perfect; so that whatever hcread pro duced the full effect that the author intended.— His present little auditory paid him the compliment of the most profound silence, till he finished the tale, and closed the volume. “That is a faultless story,” said Mr. Atkins.— “Do you not think so?” All, except Miss Eu stace, expressed their approbation of it in warm torm«. .She remained silent. “What says my little Abby to it ?” said Mr. Atkins. “Do you dissent from the common opin ion?” “I think it highly interesting rmd instructive,” Miss Eustace replied, “but not faultless.” “Pray point out the faults,” said Mr. Atkins. “Let us have the benefit of your critique upon it.” Miss Eustace blushed, and begged to be excus ed. She was sorry she had expressed any feeling of disapprobation. But Mr. Atkins persisted that she should point out the defects she discovered, in which lie was joined by the rest of the circle. Blushing still more deeply, Miss Enstacc said— “ Clara could not have felt true friendship, for Eleanor, or she would not have manifested such indelicate joy, when the latter was proved so base.” “Clara's own explanation, that she had a dearer Vol. I. — No. 8. . friend, at whose escape she rejoiced, was a suffi cient apology.” This opinion, though differently expressed, was uttered by every one at the same moment, Mr. Chatincey excepted. “That, as I think, is another defect,” said Miss Eustace. “Was there no indelicacy in her per mitting tliat dearer friend to see that she loved him, and calculated on the offer of his hand, while he yet had made no declaration of attachment to her ?” •‘ller amiable sincerity would atone far that fault, if it could be called a fault*” said Mr. At kins. “Hardly, I think,” said Miss Eustace, “I al ways was sorry the passage was written, especially as it was written by a woman, and have ever been irclined to jump it when reading the tale. I like not that female delicacy should be sacrificed, even at the shrine of sincerity. But Mrs. Opie not tmfrequently sins against the more refined and re tiring delicacy of her sex.” “In what other instance jdo you think she has done it, Miss Eustace?” asked Mr. Cliauncey. “O, in many,” Miss Eustace replied. “Any one who understands the true female character, and who will read her works carefully, wil] easily detect them.” “O, name them—name them, Abby,” said Mr. Atkins. “Yes, name some other,” said Mrs. Atkins. “There is one in ‘Madaline’ that now occurs to me,” said Miss Eustace, “that struck me as gross ly indelicate ; and, indeed, not true to nature.— Madaline says of herself, ‘that she sang louder than usual one evening when she supposed that Mr. Falconer w as listening behind the hedge, that he might hear her.’” “Was that false lo nature, ar. well as indicate, Abby?” asked Air. Atkins, Coloring more highly than ever, while lv— . lasliesfe H over her eyes, as if to conceal their «!•■■ •> expression, she replied— “l should have supposed that the idea of he proximity of one so dear to her, under such ir eumstnnces, would have, rendered it imporible for her to sing as loud as usual, if indeed she o 1 sine at all.” Air. Atkins, who was seated by her, whispered in her ear—“ What happy fellow taught you so much of the effect of t’hc tender passion, Ab by ?” This question covered her whole face and r.ce’t with a glow of carmine ; but in a low, Utii. ■ what tremulous tone, she said— “ May not instinct teach a woman ho should probably be affected under such CUV stances ?” “Possibly,” said Mr. Atkins—• •‘but for all thaf, I do suspect you most grievously.” All the little party continued to converse in ihe most animated manner, Miss Eustace excepted. She was making a feather screen for Mrs Atkins, and she now applied herself to her work with the most persevering dilligence, and in perfect si lence. “Do let us hear tin* sound of vour voice again, Abby,” said Mr. Atkins, in an under tone. ou have now maintained the most profound silence for more than an hour. Pray speak once again.” “I will,” said Miss Eustace, “for I am just going to n»k Augusta if my screen will do.” “1 can fell you that it will,” said Mr. Atkins, “it is very handsomely made.” But Miss Leigh differed from him in opinion. “It is not so pretty as if might be, Abby,” said ; she. “The different colored feathers are not so arranged as to produce the best effect.” “Are they not ?” said Miss Eustace. “I have been trying to make it as pretty as possible. But you are correct, Augusta,” added she, after hold ing the screen in different points of view; “it is real ly a gaudy looking thing, 1 will give it to some child who needs a fan, and will be delighted with its gay colors, and make another for my friend.” “O no, Abby,” said Mrs. Atkins, you shall not take that trouble. This is really a "handsome screen.” “So I thought,” said Miss Eustace, “rmtil Au gusta helped to open my eyes to its glaring de fects. No, no—l w ill make another for you.—- Should you carry this, it might be ‘’bought that a Sachem had robbed some fair one of liis tribe, and laid the spoils at your feet. I should take no pleasure in giving you any thing so ill-looking—in such bad taste.” “.hist as vou please, dear,” said Airs. Atkins, “though I am sorry thaf you should give yourself so much trouble.” “I shall not esteem it a trouble,’’ said Miss Eus tace, as she resumed her seat, and at the same time her taciturnity. Miss Leigh was peculiarly happy this evening. Air. Chauncey did not, it is true, converse with her any more than usual, nor say any tiling to her that he might not have said to another; Lut there was something in his manner, in the tone of his voice, and in the expression nt his eyes, when he addressed her, that betrayed his admiration, low growing preference. Airs. Atkins obscivetfit with much pleasure. She truly loved Miss Eustace, and would not have been dissatisfied had she be come the object of Mr. Channecy’s choice; yet her cousin Augusta was the one she h:nl m liov own mind selected for his wife. But Mr. Atkins saw if with something like regret. 3 hough he really thought that Miss Leigh was, as he had said to Mr. Chauncey. a fine, a noble minded girl, vet she was not his favorite of the tw o young la iljcs. He loved Mr. Chauncey with a warm at tachment; and Aliss IV-tacr, according to hi* opinion, was the very person to secure his happi ness. After Air. Chauncey took leave. Air. Atkins and Miss Eustace chanced to be left alone for a short tine 1 -, when the former abruptly said — “You really vex me, Abby.” “Vox you! how? I am very sorry,” said Miss Eustace. “Why, here is my friend Horace, who is decid edly the finest fellow I ever knew, whom you are penniHiig Augusta to carry oil’w ithout one effort to contest the prize!”