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Southern Field and Fireside. PCBUSHED^Y^iSra^MNER, NEW SERIES.r THE STORY TELLERr~ [For the Southern Field and Fireside.] BELLMONT. BY MRS. BIT* F. HUNT. JENNIE put her resolutions into practice the next morning, and nothing marred their pleasant intercourse until a few months later, when Minnie told Jennie that her father was going to move away, and she was afraid that they would never see each other again. ‘Oh Minnie, don’t go,’ said Jennie; ‘stay and live with us, and be my sister, then we can always go to school together, and mother will make us dresses just alike, and father will get you a pony too, just like mine.’ But Minnie shook her head slowly as she thought of her parents and little brothers, and concluded that she would rather wash dishes and mind the baby with them, than to enjoy all of Jennie’s fine things, dearly as she loved her. . , • Annie,’ said Mr. Ralston one morning as he came in from a general inspection of his farm, * I huvo just had a long conversation with Hen ry Loring. He informs me rhat he will start in about a month for the West. I was aston ished, as I had no idea that he thought of har ing, though he is a man .of action and few words; but I am really sorry that he is going. We will loose a good neighbor and an upright C1 ‘Twish that he could be induced to change his mind, replied Mrs. Ralston. ‘ I think he is doing as well here as he possibly could there, with a family of small children and a delicate wife. I hope he may never regret the change. I wonder what she thinks of it?* * n was her suggestion and wish that they should go. I believe she has a brother living there’—and Mr. Ralston added, laughingly, that when a woman makes up her mind to do anything you might as well yield at once, or there will be trouble in the household. •I wish if they do go,’ said Mr. Ralston, mu singly, ‘ that they would leave us Minnie, at least until her education is completed. It will break Jennie’s heart for her to leave. What do you think of making such a proposition to herfather?’ ‘ I would just as soon think of asking him for his right hand,’ replied Mr. Ralston. 1 His pride if not his love, would reject indignantly the offer of a home to one of his children while health and strength were left to him. So the matter dropped, and at the appointed time the young farmer and his family exchange their Southern home for the new and untried scenes of the West. CHAPTER 111- Oh, happiness! our being's end and aim ; GoU Pleasure, Ease, Content, whate'er tby usbw: That something still which prompts the eternal sigh, For which we bear to live or dare to die, Which still so near us, yet beyond ns lies, O’erlook’d, seen doable by the fool and wise; nf celestial seed ! if droop’d below. Say in what mortal soil thou deign’st to ffowt^ Six years, with their sunshine and shade, had faUen very lightly upon Elimwood and its happy inmates. A few lines more deeply traced might be found upon the benevolent brow of its honored master; his once erect form, now slightly bowed, but still the same heart throbbed as in the days of yore, and his children, as they sat in the cozy family parlor, thought that they had never seen their father look st> well, as he sat in front of the large bright hickory fire, whose merry blaze went laughing and hissing up the great old chimney place, playing fantastic tricks, and shedding its cheerful glow upon the encircling group. And Mr. Ralston’s face was but the index of his soul. He had just finished a retrospective gianrn over the events of his life, and now the ( i quiet satisfaction and happiness beamed on his AUGU STA . GA., SATURDAY, JANUARY 10,1163. face, as he cast a glance over the family group. Xn her accustomed place sat Mrs. Ralston, still wearing the same serene and placid beauty ; and if h« had admired and almost idolized the wife of his youth, the feeling had but deepened with time, and in his eyes the matron’s charms were even more lovely than her girlish beauty had been. By her side sat Reinhold, an open book lay upon his knee, with his elbow rest ing on his mother’s work-table, and his hand supporting his head, while his full, piercing black eyes were bent upon the fire, veiled in a dreamy revery, as if pleasant thoughts were the subject of it; and occasionally the slender fingers would thread the wavy mass of dark hair, and push it back from the broad smooth forehead, as if its weight pressed too heavily upon the busy brain. The warm glow of health mantled the full rounded cheek, impart ing life and animation to the almost olive com plexion. ‘ A noble boy,’ thought Mr. Ralston as he gazed on Reinhold’s manly form, and ■bold, handsome features. Well, thought he, had bb been repaid for taking to his home and heart the little waif that had been thrown upon his bounty; the gleeful little child that had prattled on his knee; the robust romping school-boy; the thoughtful, studious youth,and now in the first bright lush of opening man hood, he seemed doubly and truly his son. Nesr by Reinhold, and in striking contrast, sat Jennie —still the little househola fairy. Six years bad made but slight change in the lair young face; and although the little child of ten had merged into the tall and slender girl es sixteen, her face had lost none of its trustful, confiding look. The same loving blue eyes shone with their beaming tenderness; the same blush played hide and seek on her trans parent cheek, and the merry rippling laugh, as in the days of childhood, gladdened the home of Jennie. And weU might Mr. Ralston’s face beam with inward delight, as after reviewing the past, his thoughts settled upon the present, fortune, with her fickle wheel, had made no backward turn for him, but had lavishly cast ber horn of plenty at his feet; broad and ex tensive fields bad but magnified under his pru dent management. Peace and plenty had smil ed upon him, and his children were all that a fond parent could wish. Reinhold had that day returned from the city of c , where he had been for the preced ing siynonths, studying law, with a celebrated barrister of that place. Mr. Ralston had wish ed his son to follow the pleasant and honorable profession of his fathers, that of tilling the ground. He thought it was too much neglect ed, and rather held in contempt by the present generation, who considered it essentially neces sary to devote a certain number ot years to the acquisition of a profession, which but few pros ecuted with any degree of success. Reinhold bad reasoned his mother over to bis side of the question, and with such a champion on hid side, he was sure of gaining bis point, whatever that point might be. Mr. JELilston acquiesced, saying that perhaps the boy would some day honor the profession, and if he had owned to the weakness, if weakness it might be called, he thought his son would bcacraay oallisg or profession. He remem bered with gratified pride,his successful ortora efforts on the college rostrum, and his sound practical views on every subject; and now after six months of close application, he bad returned to Elimwood to spend the Christ mas holidays. Jennie was first to break the silence by en quiring of ber brother, if Ada Dalzelle, had re ceived the first honor in her class that had j ost graduated. 1 Julia Hinton told me in her ] fl »i letter that she felt confident that Ada would receive it, though it was eagerly con tended for by several, of no meagre pretensions ta talent.’ *Of course she did,’ he replied. ‘ Madam La os on t thinks that Ada is by far the most accom plished young lady that has ever received a diploma from her, and she is certainly the most beautiful.’ \ L yf' 11 . \\ A > IjLAi r >a> \ fl' < Vj®BffiWp ; .-Ti' L\\v ■IV^WpMIPS^ imM fjsf s W*Sfi v B&SSBBt:''-! WlmmP ‘ Ada always was pretty, ’ carelessly remarked Jennie. * Pretty is a very tame compliment to apply to such a queenly-looking creature as Ada. At their concert last week, her beauty was the theme of evory tongue, and as her siren voice rose and fell in its rich cadence, one might easily imagine himself in Paradise, listening to the songs of the angelß.’ ‘Surely, brother Reinnie, you have exalted Ada to a high place in yeur calendar of saints.’ ‘ Not quite so high as that, but as near a saint as young ladies ever get to be,’ he re plied, with a significant glance at Jennie. His father joined in the laugh that followed, saying that *he was afraid that Reinhold was a more devout follower of Cupid than of Black stane.' * Indeed, father, Mr. Gardener will give you a very different account of me. Why, he urg ed me frequently to go more into society.— Now, mother, do come to the rescue, and say that I have grown thin and pale from a too close application to musty, law books.’ Mrs. Ralston looked up with a fond smile into the radiant face of her son, saying; * that as the firelight gave everything such a ruddy glow, that she would wait until morning be fore expressing her views, but she remembered distinctly that he had told her in his letters that he devoted but evening in the week to visiting.’ % " ‘And I will wager anything that that .even ing ooincided with the reception evening of the young ladies of Madame Lamont’s,’ said Jenuie. ‘ What a fortunate thing it is for you, Jen nie, that you didn’t live a hundred years ago m tho witch-burning days, I fear you would have stood but little chance for your life,' and Rein hold looked at his sister with a great deal of concern depicted on his face. ‘Didyou say that Julia Hinton and the Wares came to-day, also ?’ asked Jennie. ‘Yes, and several friends with them; they were all under the charge of old Mr. Dalzelle, and your humble servant enjoyed the privilege of checking ponderous trunks and hat-boxes,to say nothing of the innumerable carpet-bags, baskets and shawls, that all ladies carry for no obvious reason but to lumber up a double quantity of seats with, and look i bunder-bolts at any offending mortal that essays to touch them. I only wonder that I escaped with whole boues, for besides being baggage-master aud waiting boy in general, I had to stand tar get for all of Miss Julia’s witty sayings ; be fore I could recover from one stunning blow another crash would follow, more bewildering than the first. I hate boisterous young ladies, and think they ought to be excluded from so ciety, or at least, loDg enough to learn the proper definition of politeness.' ‘You are not saying much for the refining powers of Madam Lamont,’ aaid Mrs. Ralston; ‘ I should think that after three years training th«udeness of Julia might be improved.’ *>7611, to some extent I thiuk it is, but sim pering, drawling airs do not sit well on Julia, so she affects not to be affected, which I ad mit is the more bearable of the two, but a wee bit more modesty would be as becoming to herself as agreeable to others.’ ‘ I see you still harbor malice against Julia for calling you sweet-heart, aud making you carry her books when you wanted to take Ada’s,’ and Jennie smiled as some of those school-day scenes were recalled to mind. ‘I can assure you, sister, I bad forgiven, and forgotten that long ago. I was thinking of her devoted attentions to Arthur Bryon, who is in the same office with myself. And that reminds me of a package that his father re quested me to deliver to Mr. Curtis, his Attor ney in D- for Rachel Clyde, the old wo man of Bellmont,’ and Remhold drew from bis pocket a small paper parcel. ‘Did you know, father, that - this Mr. Bryon was a college friend of yours ?’ * Yes,’ returned Mi. Ralston, ‘ I remember him very well, though he was several years my junior, and a keen, shrewd fellow he was. I * * fjj AT THREE DOLLARS Per ANNUBI. [VOL. L—NUMBER 2. I have never met him but once since we left college, and that was about twenty years ago, when I purchased Bellmont farm, but what does he know of Rachel Clyde ?’ Mrs. Ralston’s knitting and Jennie’s slipper were alike given up, and all of their attention directed to Reinhold’s reply; for their unsocial neighbor bad continued to reside iu the old ruins, without as they knew of, ever holding intercourse with her fellow beings. They had heard that once a year she had walked to D , and returned with a cart laden with her year’s provisions, but where she obtained the means was a mystery to her neighbors.— But as she lived a quiet, harmless life, no one disturbed her. ‘lt is just as we supposed,’ continued Rein hold. ‘ She is partly deraDged, and in her ydunger days lived at Bellmont, I believe in the capacity of servant or seamstress, though years ago she lost her mind, aud was a raving ma niac in a lunatic asylum; but having partly re covered her reason, was liberated, and conceiv ed the idea she was the last descendant of the Bellmont family, and would pass the remainder of her days iu tho old family residence. Mrs. Bryon was a relative, and the sole remaining heir of the family ; a great portion of the val uable estate, Mr. Bryon informed me, bad been squandered by the only son, who died sudden ly, after a career of vice and dissipation, though still leaving a very handsome amount for Mrs. Bryon, and she having formed an at tachment to this Rachel Clyde in her girlhood, set apart a regular yearly allowance for her,and at her death requested her husband to continue it as long as the unfortunate woman lived.* ‘ltis certainly very kind of him,’ remarked Mrs. Ralston, but I wonder that they ever parted with Bellmont.’ • Mr. Bryon is a man that has very few senti ments of romance in his nature; he looks on everything in a purely business view. He re ceived a liberal compensation for the place, and could turn it to better account in stocks and bonds, than in allowing it to remain in a pile of ancestral ruins.’ ‘He has been a very successful merchant, I presume,’ said Mr. Ralston. 4 He was consid ered a wealthy man when I made that pur chase, and I know that he had nothing when he commenced business.’ ‘He is one of the richest men in the city— lives in princely elegance, and his daughters are looked upon as belles and beauties, and the whole family pride themselves very much on their noble blood.' Arthur expatiates largely upon the virtues of a certain Lord Bellmont, who was a grandfather, uncle, or something of the kind, aud he being the last male descend ant, feels that it devolves on him to keep up the ancient glory of the house. The Misses Bryon with Arthur will spend the Christmas holidays at Mr. Dalzelle’s. So, little sister, you will have to lay aside your rustic airs, and take a few lessons in courtly manners; they are not com ing until after Christmas, but will be here in time for Ada’s birthday party.’ * Mrs. Dalzelle told me,’ returned Jennie, ‘ that the party will be the most brilliant one she has given, and you know that is saying a good deal. But I know she has been preparing for it, for the last three months. She has had carpenters, painters, and upholsters at work; ana in fact, the whole place has undergone a thorough renovation.’ 4 Ada is anticipating gay times, now that she is released from the thraldom of the school room, and considers herself a full Hedged young lady. lam afraid that it will put Jen nie in the notion of giving up her books,’ and Mrs. Ralston looked enquiringly at her daugh ters. ‘ You needn’t have any fears on that score,’ answered Mr. Ralston, before Jennie could re ply. • Sbe likes too well to be petted, and made a baby to want to appear as a young lady.’ 4 Well, lather, Jennie has succeeded in blind ing you more than I thought sbe had, ’ and yieioboid laughed provokingly, aud looked at t Hus sister. Time flew unheeded, by the family f