Southern literary gazette. (Charleston, S.C.) 1850-1852, January 17, 1852, Page 28, Image 6

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28 day found her as firm in her affection as when she had braved him and gone to her room a captive daughter. Occasionally she met her lover, —sometimes she would catch a glimpse of him as he passed the house, and his smile and brightening coun tenance were “crumbs of comfort,” she carefully and thankfully gathered, to store away until they met again. Little dreamed she that her father was watch ing her closely, that he had been near her when accidentally young Norman would cross her path and, that he had seen his look of delight, his eager glance, when as he passed the door he caught sight of Emily at the window. In spite of him self he admired their forbearance, their perfect honesty of purpose. He knew that no appointments had been made; that she did not watch his coming and going—he saw they were yet as strong of heart as ever, and still he dared to hope that Time would bury the feeling in mu tual oblivion. They merited something more than he had given them—they w r ere both perfectly respectful to him, their actual persecutor, and he could advance nothing against their union but prejudice. Friends had remonstrated with him, shown him the folly, the childishness of such an objection; and the mortification he inwardly felt, increased his obstinacy, and incensed him. He might yield, but his pride forbade him, and so he went on, a canker gnawing at his heart and poison ing his rest. Christmas was coming, that season of universal rejoicing, when peace prevails in every Christian household, throughout the civilized world. Emily and her mother were busily preparing their gifts for the occasion, and making preparations - for the gathering of old friends, who an nually met at the house on Christmas day. Garlands of evergreens were wreathed around the chandeliers and hung over the doors. Beautiful exotics bloom ed in the jardinieres and bouquets of japo nicas and geraniums filled the vases.— Emily had arranged them all on Christ mas eve, and while she and her mother were glancing around to see that all was in perfect order, her father was riding about the city from place to place, select ing his own offerings for the morrow. lie was returning home, when, suddenly, a bunch of fire-crackers went off just under his horse’s feet. The animal kicked and j SOUTHERN LITERARY GAZETTE. plunged madly around, rearing up so furiously that his rider would have been thrown upon the pavement, had not a | powerful hand grasped the reinsand held down the frightened beast, while he dis mounted. Mr. Raymond went gratefully towards j his preserver, for such indeed he was, as death would have been his inevitable | fate had he been thrown upon the stones, ! on which he now stood. “ You have saved my life sir—l owe you such gratitude as cannot be express ed in words.” “ I thank heaven that I have been the means of doing so, Mr. Raymond,” was the reply. “You had better w alk home, as the horse is too wild to carry you safely thither. It w r as Arthur Norman ! Mr. Ray mond started back as he recognized him, and seemed for an instant uncertain how to act, but extending his hand to the young man, returned the hearty grasp with which it was received, a smile break ing over his face. “ Come to me to-morrow morning, Mr. Norman. I shall be glad to see you.” And walking away, he left his com panion, overwhelmed with joy at the for tunate accident by which he had been enabled to save the life of Emily’s father. ******** The next morning dawned brightly— Emily was up, and off to church when her father went down into the library to or der a fire as he expected a visitor. On her return a servant called her, to say that she was expected in the parlour. Her father had sent for her. Down she ran after getting her bonnet off, and as he came to meet her, she threw her arms around him wishing him a “Merry Christ mas and a long, long life to enjoy many more.” “ And what sort of a Christmas gift do you expect to day, Miss Emmy ]” said he patting her cheek. “ Oh! a splendid one of course,” said she gaily. “A gossamer veil, an India cashmere, a diamond bracelet, or the Koh-i-noor itself.” “ Well we shall see whether you value my gift as well as any of these.” “ Let me sec,” taking out his watch, “ it is now nine o’elook and not a soul has had breakfast yet.” “Is it possible ! Is my mother ill ? You did not wait for me surely,” cried Emily. “ Indeed we did, and I am now goW to call in the company we expect to breakfast, that you may make your ex cuses.” fie threw open the folding doors, and there stood her mother, Mr. James, the clergyman, and Arthur Norman! She grew pale and dizzy, but her father placed her arm in his and led her to her lover. “ Here, my darling, is the Christ mas gift 1 offer you. Through my fault your happiness has been too long delay ed, and I do not intend that you shall be separated any longer from the man you love. Take her Arthur, and mav God bless you. Mr. James, will you make these two, man and wife. Every, thing is settled, I have the license, and nothing is to prevent them from remain ing together for life.” Emily trembled violently, but answer ed in a clear sweet voice, growing more calm as the ceremony proceeded. Her father gave her away with much emotion, and her gentle mother wept silent tears of joy ; but all felt how safely these two, now united, could depend upon one anoth er for happiness, as perfect as earth can give. There was a merry party that evening at Mr. Raymond’s, and many a wonder ing look as he presented his married daughter to his assembled friends. No one could find fault with the bride and groom, in spite the absence of wedding fuss and preparation, for one w T as as beau tiful, and the other as noble looking, as any of God’s creatures. “ This has been a happy Christmas in deed, father,” said Emily as leaning on her husband’s arm she stood before him after the guests were gone. “ This day three months ago, I knelt at your feet to beg your consent to my marriage, and now together we kneel and ask your blessing upon the children whose happi ness you have kindly and generously promoted.” They knelt before him and with emo tion that he cared not to conceal, Mr. Raymond blessed them solemnly, bid ding them love one another through life, as they had done in all this sorrow, nobly, wisely and unselfishly. Spring hill, Dec. 11< A, 1851. New Definition of Debt. —“The D elilah lap of a pecuniary obligation.’ [Jan. I?,