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Pcuotcfr to £itcratmrc, Science, anti Art, t!)c Sons of temperance, JTeUcn3l}ip, ittasonrn, anti (General Intelligence.
VOLUME I
§ £ % £© ¥ £ B 3? 0 £ T £ Y a
WHEN FORTUNE BEAMS,
When fortune beams around you,
When hearts with pleasure leap,
And hope and joys surround you,
Forget not those who weep ;
■\Vlien friendship’s smile invites you
To bless and to be blest :
When every charm delights you—
Oh, think of the distrest!
When golden gales betide you,
As if by heaven decreed.
And plenty stands beside you—-
Forget not those who need !
When pleasure’s cup seems endless,
Oh prove it without end,
Bv being to the friendless
In every hour a friend !
081 © I ‘Sr Aic w A %£ *
THE TOOFS DAUGHTER
BY MISS SUSAN A. STUART.
[Concluded from our Z7s7.]
CHAP. IV.
“ And she with such resentment burned, *
As only woman feels when scorned.”
And Edith, all ill is time of chances and changes,
liowisthe time passing with her? See for your
self gentle reader, follow me into that well known
p:\rlorof her mother’s dwelling ; there she sets
the beautiful one—as light, as graceful, and still
more level v than when we saw her last, for we
now behold her a thinking, refined, intellectual
woman ; with all her vouihful, beaming charms
heightened into exquisite and womanly perfection.
She leans rather pensively on the arm of the chair,
with her soft, dimpled hand, holding in its rose
tinted palm, the rounded chin ; the beautiful little
foot patting on the floor, her eves bent on the
flowers of her garden, seeing them in all their
hues, floating like the colors in a kladescopebe
fore her vision. Her guitar leans against her
knee, and the other hand is straying across the
strings, awakening its echoes like the notes of an
;Eolian harp.
“ Mother I will go to Old Point with cousin
Frank anti his wife, and spend the summer.”
“ And suppose Charles Lennard arrives in your
absence ?”
“Mother you must excuse me for not having
told you something. It is my first breach of con
fvlence in you.” The listless attitude was now
abandoned, and the one she assumed, whilst she
continued in a more rapid tone, was full of de
termination as well as grace. “Yes mother, mv
very tirst. Charles Leonard will he there, at least
a week after my arrival. Yesterday I received a
letter from him, and such a letter ! ” her voice now
faltered, hut indignantly driving hack the tears
that were fast, filling her eves, she drew from her
pocket a letter, and handing it to her mother told
her to read it, then sinking back into the chair
with a slight frown and heightened color, sni
calmly as she could, whilst Mrs. Morton read the
epistle spoken of in the preceding chapter.
New York, Mav, 1847.
Dear Elirh. —You must pardon my seeming
neglect, in having left unanswered so long your
list. I h ive been very ill, and had it riot been
hr the unexampled kindness ot an American
family resident in Rome, should ere this have slept,
niv last sleep ; and though barely recovered, I
sill teel iny strength needs recruiting, and intend
tiielist of June or the first of July to set out for
Old Point. Let me assure you I feel my exile
from your presence most sensibly, but hope, when
h-Ucr, to visit you in A . I know dear Edith
this is but a sorry return for your long and affec
tjonate letter to me, but 1 never did excel in put
log my thoughts and feelings upon paper, and
mv weakness now prevents anything like an at
tl ‘ ln pt. I know you will make every excuse to
Versed forme. Write soon, and believe me
Uow as ever. Truly Yours,
CHARLES.
folded the letter and handed it
hdhh, “ He mav be sick mv dear.”
‘wk! were 1 dying l would not have writen
nw such a letter. Yes°l will goto Old Point and
1 can resign him freely, and then
! no,,Jf ‘ r u 'ill come back to you and never, never
T e ,’l n y one again, as l love you, my own mother.”
■ ad tier arms were thrown around Mrs. Morton’s
“j u ’liilst her tears fell unchecked. She stif
i 1 h' l ! to weep, knowing it. would be better,
•'bowed bv tender words, and the closer clasp
rm ’ how sincerely she sympathised
s in her first grief.
t -‘ few days were passed by her in prepara-
Jjpj. ur he r visit to Old Point. She accompanied
, | 0| Jsin Frank Morton and wife, and found the
frie I r()vv ded with fashionables, and in time lot
ancy ball then in contemplation,
k .1 vvas y°ung, and though indignant at
1 tes whom she yet loved, buoyant with life
SAVANNAH. GA.. SATURDAY. DECEMBER 29. 1849.
and hope, and I pray you my romantic, senti
mental renders not to blame her if I say,she looked
forward with pleasing anticipation for the great
event. Be it recollected also that it was her first
ball, and she had, though sojourning at the Point
hut a week, received so many compliments, and
become so much ihe rage ns would have been an
excuse for older and steadier heads than that of
the little golden-h tied one that rested on heryoung
shoulders. Therefore if she was exhilerated a
little by this homage to her beaux ycaitx, pardon
her, gentle reader.
CHAP. V.
“ The music, and the banquet, and the wine.
The garlands, the rose odours, and the flowers,
The sparkling eyes, and flashing ornaments,
The white arms, and the raven hair, the braids—
And bracelets, swan-like bosoms, the thin robes
Floatin': like clouds ’twixt our gaze and heaven ;
And the tinkling feet, so small and sylph like.”
Byron.
’Twns four o’clock, and the eve of the expected
fanev ball. The hotel and its crowd of inmates,
in all the anxieties of preperation and pleasing
anticipation. The steamboats too had just arrived,
bringing fresli accessions to the already crowded
hotel ; and the innumerable waiters and chamber
maids could be seen hurrying here and there pre
paring For tVie arrivals. The long poriicoes that
surround the central saloon were full of idlers ;
some sauntering to and fro, others in all the care
less abandonment of loose summer garb, were
dfling with their cigars, and talking lazily and
prozilv of politics. Groups of lovely women
were promenading through the saloon in their
dinner dress, some laughing, chatting, flirting,
chess plaving with the officers of the garrison in
their gay unifor ns. Nor was the sprightly middv
with his banded cap set jauntily on his head,
wanting amid these groups: for Hampton Road
at the epoch of which we are speaking, contained
no less than three frigates, waiting for orders to
put to sen.
Edith was not in the saloon, but, if you had
looked closely you might probably have caught a
glimpse of the rosy tips, of her taper fingers hold
ing up a wee hit of the curtain to allow her bright
eves to scan the arrivals as they came bustling up,
amid porters, handbnrrows, and saunferers, from
the wharf. Her little heart was beating wildly,
and although dressed only in her loose, white
never had she looked more lovely, for
the rich flush of expectation was on her cheek,
and her countenance was brightening and chang
ing with every emotion. Charles Lennard was
expected ! and here he comes, w’th a party, up
the gravelled walk, fronting Edith’s window,
which was one of those delightful little rooms
joining the central saloon ; reader mine, if you
have ever been there.
Well, as l said, he comes laden with shawls,
and walking closelv along with a graceful girl in
a fashionable travelling dress, whose thick, green
veil however,prevenfsEdith from getting n glimpse
of her features. We will not say a. pang very
much like the premonitory symptoms of the
“green eyed monster” did not dart through her
heart plaving sad havoc with her whilome hope
full feelings. Pale and rather thinner than when
she last saw him ; but oh ! how immeasure
ablv superior to all the men she had hitherto seen
bowing homage to her beauty. And now we
must leave you fair Edith to await the time sot
vour grande toilette , with vour feelings too excited
for vour siesta, and follow C bancs and his party
who, of course where no other than Bell Ashton
and her parents. “A Fancy Ball ! how annoy
ing,” said she, as Charles announced to her what
was in contemplation, as he rejoined her in one of
the parlors where she was waiting for her room
lobe prepared, “Yes, ’tis so annoying to have
arrived so late, for I cannot possibly dress in char
acter, and I have no wish to go into the ball loom
unless in costume.”
“ But my dear Bel,” said Mrs. Ashton, ioa
have so many beautiful evening dresses you ought
to go by all means. I shall rest and go. Mr.
Lennard, of course, will take a peep at them,
will von not ? ”
“ I shnll like very much to see my fair country
women in character, to see how they suppoi ttlu m,
said he, “ but Miss Bell do let me add my en
treaties to your ma’s, and allow me the honor of
being your escort.”
“ I cannot promise vou yet,” said sue, smiling,
“ but I will let you know ; and now in mercy, Mi.
Lennard, do liurry them with our rooms as I am
so tired.” , . ■,
Charles started to execute her commands, and
soon returning, gave the welcome intelligence of
the chambers being ready, and after escorting
them to the door, betook himself to his own, to re
cruit from the weariness of three davs ‘
He had not the smallest suspicion of Li it i >
being an inmate of the hotel, or of her being any
where nearer than the delightful am. qmet hole
village of A j and I really question it hardly
a thought had turned towards her, so absorbed
had he been in his attentions to Miss Ashton, who
bv-the-bye, though ever graceful and lady-like,
was sometimes exacting in her commands.
Well he went to sleep —for heroes sleep as well
as most persons —and when he aroused himself
from his refreshing nap, the room was shrouded
in the dimness of twilight. A top at his door
made him spring from his bed, and throwing on
his coat, gave entrance to a servant, who brought
lights, hot water &c , as he had ordered, at that
hour. Also came a little perfumed billet, “ with
Miss Ashton’s compliments, and would be happy
to accept of Mr. Leonard as an escort for the
ball.”
Behold him then at nine at Mrs. Ashton’s door,
where he was soon joined bv the ladies.
Have you ever been at Old Point Comfort ? if
Non have you must know that splendid saloon,
with its corridors in each side, large enough to
contain with ease five hundred, without, at the
same time, incommoding each other, making the
belle tremble for the gauzy texture of her dress,
and her little feet, as she wends her way through
what, in any common sized saloon, would be a
crowd.
What a coup (Veil struck our party as the}’ en
tered the west door from the corridor. No gar
den ever gleamed more brilliantly with clustering
flowers, than did that gas-lit, lofty room, with its
pillars, its flowers, its mirrors, reflecting its ex
tensive range and gayly dressed groups, making
ii look st ill larger, and more crowded. The splen
did band of the garrison was in full play, wafting
strains of delicious music o’er the illumined and
perfumed scene. There were groups of fair
forms and faces that would task Raphael’s sweet
ness, Guido’s grace, or Titian’s exquisite color
ing. Fragments of conversation, like disjointed
bars of music, dropped from their lips. ‘There
in other groups, could be seen the distinguished
statesman and orators, mingling with ihe monied
merchant; authors, whose eloquence linked their
readers hearts to their names with chains of gold,
and caused many a one to beat as wildly, as now
beats those in the young Houri’s who deck this
glad scene. Dancing has not yet commenced.
A buzz of general admiration now follows a
group who have just entered. It consisted of
four persons,two ladies and gentlemen, en charac
trreala Cracovienne. Upon oue in particular of
that well dressed quartille did the eye rest in
amaze, at her radiant loveliness of form and fea
ture, and tho exquisite grace of her undulating
step, reminding one of the dip of a sea gull, so
easy, so gliding in its motion. Her cavalier was
-angularly tall, thereby making the form which
leaned on his arm, almost yctittc by comparison.
Her short, full skirt, of white silk, with scarlet rib
bons, tight fitting velvet jacket of the same
brilliant dye, with its buttons and embroidery of
silver ; scarlet boots ala Polka, and a small cap
of velvet, with white marabouts , completed the
costume, and exactly suited ihe arch look of the
beautiful Edith. Her luxuriant tresses of bright
brown were braided in wide plaits, and tied cn
neevdi, wit h ribbons to match her jacket.
Charles fairly started, for unchanged, except
that added years had but increased her loveliness,
and her coquettish dress and the dazzling light,
made her look more etherial and fairy-1 ike than
lip had ever seen her. ’Twas his own Edith !
Yes, the truant heart that had been straying like a
thought of the mind, was instantly brought back
to its allegiance, and the deep tone with which he
murmured “ Edith ! ” had all the fervor and ten
derness of the moonlight 1 rysting scene.
A pang too, very much like jealousy fame to
nnnov him at this crisis, when he saw her dispen
sing her smiles to the gentlemen who had almost
surrounded her party, and seemed soliciting her
hand for the polka quadrilles then forming. How
inconsistent are these very same “ lords of crea
tion ! ” There stood Charles, fuming and chafing
internally, because Edith had not been able, by
some magnetic attraction, to single him out from
that crowd of five hundred, and lie had been ob
livious almost of her existence, for weeks past !
He determined to get rid of Bel ss soon as po
liteness would allow, and claim from Edith bis
recognisance, though at the same time thoughts
of writing a tiny note, and getting it conveyed to
her, crossed the almost “ twilight of his brain ;”
for be, poor fellow, was fearful that the young,
untrained girl, who had not mingled in European
courts, and been the admiration of moustached
barons and stripling lords, might be apt to get up
a scene. He might have spared himself the har
rowing thought did he know that Edith had ac
tually seen him on her first entrance, and was
determined on showing him that her happiness
was not entirely dependant on her whilome, care
less lover.
The chains which he had been so anxious to
unloose, be hugged with joy and anxiety the Clo
ser to him now, as he. notwithstanding the bril
liant remarks of Bel, continued absorbed and
wrapt in the contemplation of her peerless beautv,
and her sprightly* hut lady-like manner. He
now entered con amore into the truth of Shaks
peare’s lines:
“ It so falls out,
That whattrtf lave, we prize not to the worth,
While we enjoy it, but being lacked and lost,
Why then we know its value— then we find
The virtue, that possession would not show ua
While it was ours.”
He watches her, and she at last suffers her
eyes to fall upon him.
“Is it possible? Am I so changed? Is she
forgetful of me, that 1 am not recognised ! ”
was his now agonized thought, and will) a mur
mured apology he resigned Bel to her father, and
moved towards Edith.
Too late ! she has taken her place in the
quadrille at this moment, and he reaches her for
mer position in time only to hear the murmurs of
admiration from the group left. The graceful,
willowy figure of Edith is now moving through
tlie dance with a young officer whom Leonard at
once dubs in his heart “a pappy” liom the fact
of seeing him look on his own Edith with too im
passioned an eye to suit his ideas. As she takes
her place, her eyes meet those of Charles, 4i she
sees me now,” and an electric stream shoots
through each heart, for the bright blush of Edith
O O
suffuses even the snowy throat.
When the quadrille was finished, he of course
had an opportunity of advancing and addressing
her. Oh, for that same inconsistency which 1
have before apostrophised, he now would rather
have the embarras of a scene, than ihe smiles, and
(to his excited imagination) very cool, collected
reception which Edith gives him. She welcomes
him, ’tis true, but sharing with him — him, the
loved—the betrothed —die long absent, the smiles
and kind words he so covets, with the acquain
tances of a day! Could mortal man bear this !
Charles felt that the iron had entered into his
soul, and Edith saw it.
He can find no opportunity of speaking with
her; he asks her to dance, to promenade widi
him ; she holds up to him her tablets with its
lengthy list of names, and with her musical laugh
cries, Mercy, I pray you ! ” Charles turns off
with a bow, he vainly strives to make as careless
as her manner to him, and rejoins the Ashton’s. —
Oh horror! Be] is sulky, she will not dance, for
she has watched Charles throughout his interview
with Edith, and a light shade rests on her brow.
Their pnrtv leave earlv ihe ball room, and
Leonard, restless and disquieted, wanders forth
to the beach, seeking company from the moaning
and restless waves for his own troubled thoughts.
Strains of melody arc borne to him on that lonely
shore from the scene of gay festivity, and he feels
angry with Edith, whom his jealous imagination
pictures reveling in the dance, for thus engaging
herself to his own misery. He sat down on the
break water watching the w aves, and in his de
spairing mood, washing for death, and bethinking
himself of the heartlessness of all woman-kind,
and of Edith in particular.
The stars werepaleing in the quiet skv, when
he betook himseif homeward, worn out,exhausted.
He passed the now deserted ball room, whose
“guests have fled,” and threw-himself on his bed,
to toss in dark dreams the few remaining hours
that intervened between then and the time he
could reasonably expect to see Edith.
CHAP. VI.
“ Forgive and forget ! why the world would bo lonely.
The garden a wilderness lelt to deform.
If the flowers but remembered the chilling winds only,
And the fields gave no verdure for tear ot the storm.”
What a glorious night.! How dazzling look the
shining sand, the glistening water in the moon’s
mellow ravs, which falls so brightly upon them,
and bathing in its effulgence those two figures who
fT o n
are passing to and fro on the ram parts or rortress
Monroe, nearest the bay—’tis Edith and Lennard.
Vainly had he sought during the day an inter
view, but he could only see her the centre of an
admiring circle, for Edith was decidedly the
“queen of beauty,” and the belle amid the many
who thronged the crowded saloons of the Hygea
Hotel.
At last she promised him to walk after tea to the
garrison, and there had she and Charles gone, and
’ueath the brightly shining moon be had told to
her his wanderings—his fault —his love.
And Edith V why vou must he as tired as I am
of this love tale ! —she, like a true woman, forgave
him, for she loved. At first, however, she made
him writhe under lier assumed fickleness, till she
saw his agony, nnd then when almost in despair
of regaining the lost treasure, came like manna
to the starving Israelites, tier forgiveness, with
the laughing rejoinder, “to be a good boy, and
she would try to love him.”
A week later finds them en route for A ,
Charles Lennard accompanying them, for he is
as eager now to ratify his engagement as he was
before to free himself He had told Del Ashton
the day after the ball, of his engagement, and
NUMBER 43.