reflected not that a passion, which engrossed each thought and action of our lives, must, by its excess

aside Mr. Maynard and the awakened nurse, who strove to detain him, he sprang from the bed, and rushed towards the fancied spectre of his mind-alone, be culpable; and that when, in addition, there with one convulsive grasp he clutched at it, and then, uttering an exulting laugh, fell prostrate on the floor. His attendants approached to raise him, while Constance summoned additional aid :he had expired!

*

When, a few weeks after this sad event, Mr. Walton the elder, as the nearest friend of Delancy, undertook to examine his papers, the will was found. After many noble donations both public and private, the residue of his property was left to Laura Seaforth, who was bequeathed to the protection of Miss Woodburn. A letter was also found, addressed to Constance, but apparently unfinished. Mr. Walton enclosed it to her. It had been written two days previous to the accident. It was as follows: "Constance, ten years have elapsed since I first wrote to you; this is my second intrusion, and shall be the last. Our conversation yesterday eased my mind of all anxiety relative to the future fate of Laura. I deem it right, however, to state to you the truth of her history. When you have read it, I feel assured, however justly you may shudder, you will still more compassionately regard the poor child, who is thus fatherless, friendless, and alone.

was another being who held an exclusive right to her affection, the measure of our errors was fearfully increased.

"A short time before your arrival in Italy, Helen and her husband had gone with their little Laura, (then near three years old,) to visit Switzerland. After your departure, I rejoined them. Time passed. Our infatuation still continued.-One day, her husband had gone, with some friends, on an excursion to the lake in the vicinity; we were together, engaged in perusing a work breathing tenderness and love in every line. From this, the transition was easy to that dangerous and oftindulged theme-ourselves. Our uninterrupted interview more palpably suggested the projects of flight which we had but too often distantly formed. Abruptly, wildly, did Helen reply to all the arguments I urged in favor of protracting our stay for a brief period. Delancy!' she cried, 'call it folly, madness, or what you will, I cannot longer endure this hypocrisy. I cannot receive the tenderness, the love-Oh Heaven! the love of that man, and appear, (wretch that I am,) to return them, when my heart and soul are given to another! You are that other. You share in my passion,

"During my repeated sojourns in Italy, I renew-you shall share in my punishment. Hesitate—and ed my acquaintance with a fellow-collegian who had at the price of my own degradation, I will disclose been for years residing abroad for his health. He all to him! I cannot bid you leave me forever; I introduced me to his young wife. Her beauty was have not fortitude to do it: but I would sooner die, that of an angel! For her intellect-yours, Con- Delancy,-die by my own hand, than longer enstance is noble and refined; but it has been tem-dure this burthen of duplicity. I cannot look in pered and shadowed by rectitude and misfortune. my husband's face, I cannot take my child in my Helen had never known a moment's grief. She had lost her mother in infancy. She had been the idol of a doting, aged father, who so worshipped her that he never offered to exercise that healthful authority so necessary to a wild and daring spirit. Uncontrolled in any wish or desire, she had roamed through the fields of literature and science, bewildered by the treasures opened suddenly upon her exuberant imagination, and, without a guide or instructor "to winnow the gold dust from the barren sand," she plunged into all the mazes of mystery and doubt. The attractive garb in which each undermining assertion was decked, blinded her innocent mind to its falsity or crime. In dying, her father bequeathed her to a husband's care. He, in his turn, though a man of strong sense and judgment, could not participate in the flowery delights of her fancy; he smiled at the exaggerated pictures which she drew, and saw not the strong influence which an unrestrained indulgence of any passion, however indefinite, must ultimately gain upon the soul. When I first knew her, I became fascinated-I know of no other word so applicable "In intrusting Laura to your care, I feel I am to my feelings. We looked upon our devotion to offering to her mother's memory the only poor each other as an interchange of sentiment. We atonement now in my power. Make her resem

arms, without feeling myself unworthy of the name of wife and mother! I care not for the world's scorn. If I am willing to brave it, you should not hesitate. Edward, I fly with you now or never!' In silence I assented. For the first time, I clasped her in my arms, and at that moment we would both gladly have relinquished for our sinful passion, our hopes in this world-and even in the next. But even at that very moment, we heard a hurried sound of feet in the hall. In great agitation the domestics entered and informed Helen that her husband had on that day's pleasurevoyage been accidentally drowned! Even as they said the words, his friends bore the lifeless body into the house. As it met Helen's s eye, that shriek, that appalling shriek that burst from her, is even now echoing in my brain. Horror-stricken as I was at the sudden and blasting doom which had thus fallen on our guilty projects, I turned to console her. She fell at my feet in violent convulsions. Every aid was rendered her, in vain! In a few hours she died-cursing her God and me!

ble yourself, and whatever ills the errors of others ner, which makes her revered as well as loved.

may cause to her in after life, she will, she must be happy in her own innocence of heart.

The thousand little sacrifices of feeling, acts of self-denial, thoughtfulness for the comfort of "Each hour of my life involves me still deeper others, gentle reproofs, heartfelt commendations, in intricacy and doubt. If I have passed all my which each day discloses, only make her more and existence in one wilful error, what may I not dread more endeared. All her affection seems lavished hereafter! And if there be no Heavenly Guardian, on my children. She is indeed their second parent. no eternity, how poor and unprofitable, how inade- In sickness, when even a mother's strength has quate to my own vehement aspirations after hap- sunk beneath fatigue, her parental love and unpiness, will this world have been! Constance, ceasing care have gen additional efficacy to all years are before me, in which, if I have been medical aid. The poor around bless her. She wrong, I may repent my error; but whatever be indeed "hath never let her left hand know what my fate, instruct Laura as you have yourself been her right doeth," but accident has betrayed her instructed. Though man may for a time reject charities. No wretched hovel was deemed too piety with disdain, yet even with him a time may revolting for her mild and beneficent presence; come when he will see the insufficiency of this her purse, her assistance, her time she has given, world's wealth, and will pine for the one resting-with, above all, that benevolent sympathy that place, like the "travelled dove:" but religion is weighs so deeply with the unhappy; and many a woman's only safeguard against misery and ruin!"

CHAPTER XIII.

Pauline, the meekly bright; though now no more
Her clear eye flashed with youth's all tameless glee,
Yet something, holier than its dayspring wore,
There in soft rest lay beautiful to see;

A charm with graver, tenderer sweetness fraught,
The blending of deep love and matron thought.

Mrs. Hemans.

Extract from a letter written by the young Mrs. Walton to a friend in Europe:

NEW YORK, May, 1837.

We are at present somewhat melancholy. The light of our circle is gone-our own dear Laura has left us. The first year of her marriage passed without a cloud; but her husband has lately received an appointment in the East Indies. His wife accompanies him, and Constance remains behind. She resisted, mildly, but firmly, all their entreaties. "No, Laura," said she, "I am too old to go to a foreign land, to seek new friends and new connections. Should any misfortune occur to you, fail not to summon me. But I devoutly hope you will be safe and happy. Go, my child; write to me often; make me still the sharer of all your feelings. Go, and may God bless you!" But what Laura has lost we have gained. Their dwelling is near ours, and each day we enjoy the society, the friendship of Constance Woodburn. Oh, Henrietta! if you did but know her! She has been beautiful--has been ;for she is now fifty-five years old, and her form is bowed "beneath the weight of sorrow, not of time." Her voice is clear and full as ever, and to hear that alone is enough to make you love her. Her dress is ever marked by a rich simplicity; and even her scrupulous attention to neatness and precision, is not carried to a fault. There is withal a calm dignity, a mild determination in her man

lip that never breathed its Maker's name except to curse, has been taught by her to call upon Him with heartfelt prayer and penitence. I have heard from her own lips all her history, which I will one day relate to you: its narration affects us, because it is what we also feel; and often, Henrietta, over the page that relates a simple story of the human heart, we drop that tear which we have denied to the loftier and more talented conceptions of sublime genius. A transcript of that history she intends to leave as a legacy to my children. "I will leave it," said she, "as a warning and a lesson. It is a mere record of events, similar to what passes every day around us; but when your daughters grow to that age when a parent most trembles for their future lot—the time when they will love,perhaps the history of one who was their childhood's friend may offer a sincere and protecting moral. My life has been a series of storm and sunshine, but I am content; and quietly and calmly, I shall lay myself down to rest, seeking a sweet and peaceful sleep, from which to wake on another and a brighter day. Such are my hopes; be such yours, my beloved friend-be such your children's! And when they drop a tear for my sorrows-a blessing for my love towards them,-let them learn that no station, however confined or deprived of all natural ties, is devoid of usefulness or consolation; that no passion, in a strong and pious mind, is beyond the control of religion and virtue; and that, notwithstanding the ridicule of the world which drives so many thoughtless girls into a life of misery, content and indeed happiness may be felt and dispensed by that most lonely and reviled beingAN OLD MAID!"

An Austrian censor of the press, not many years ago, condemned as heretical, a work entitled, "Principes de la Trigonometrie," because the Trinity, which he sup posed to be included in Trigonometry, was a subject not allowed to be discussed.

For a moment or two, I sat in amazement. At length, | live the guilty shall cower before her. Sydney shall be I replied, "I will not stoop, Edith, to refute anything so the first to know its falsehood." preposterous, so malicious. Those who could listen to such a tale, are no better than the framer of it. I will treat both with contempt."

"But for my sake, Constance-for the sake of the perfect love and confidence between us, explain all the grounds for this slander, as far as you are able."

“Edith, I cannot resist your appeal. I have told you I was dying in the house where Heyward's presence tormented me."

"Oh, yes; go on, go on."

"I heard through Sweeney of Marion's arrival with recruits near Georgetown. My only thought was to fly to his protection. Col. Webster, though a rejected lover, was still my friend. He saw in his visits to Sir John's, that I was unhappy from some hidden cause. He offered his services to relieve me, if it were in his power. I told him my wish to go to my uncle Marion. He insisted on furnishing me with a sufficient escort from his own troops, which I at first accepted; but receiving contrary directions from my uncle, I wrote to Col. Webster, requesting an interview at Sweeney's cottage, that I might communicate the change in my plans, and also to ask his passport, as a security from interruption and insult. You understand that my motive in observing secrecy in my communications with Col. Webster was on account of the jealous and irritable feelings of Heyward."

She was going to find him, when I arrested her footsteps, beseeching her that nothing might be said to him on the subject. "Edith," I said, "though he is your brother, I must say his suspicions are ungenerous and dishonorable. Let him entertain an opinion which a noble mind would have disdained: self-respect forbids my descending to any explanation to him who knew me too well to suspect-". My utterance failed, while the burning tears chased each other down my cheeks.

Edith sprang forward to embrace me. "You are right, Constance; it was unworthy of him, to think for a moment that you could deviate from the path of rectitude. I do not mean to plead his excuse, when I tell you that it is the jealousy inseparable from the deep passion of love, that has infected the mind of poor Sydney. I know that your image has lived in his heart for the last two years; but what changes had come over yours in that time he knew not. The heart of many a fair one veers to every point of the compass in less time. Sydney never suspected your conduct of criminality; fickleness and imprudence were his harshest terms. May I go, Constance ?" continued the noble girl: "never believe that I will compromise the dignity of my sex, much less that of the unbending Miss Marion, before any man."

"Go, Edith," I replied, "but remember I will sooner die the victim of defamation, than seek the friendship of any one who has lent a ready ear to this tale of slander."

"Well," exclaimed Edith, with her wonted vivacity, my penetration can easily unravel the mystery. If I am not mistaken, the whole plot is Heyward's. By Edith found Norwood in the library, pacing the floor some means, he became acquainted with your corres- with agitated step. The tumultuous state of his feelpondence with Webster, and upon that hung this dia-ings forbade any thing like composure, while the dread bolical slander."

"What could be his motive?" I asked. "I am sure it was not the way to promote his own wishes; and if he meant it as a piece of revenge, it could avail nothing." "I will tell you, Constance, how this aspersion, in his own view, could promote his object. He hoped by cheapening your reputation in the eyes of the world, to do it in your own; so that to avoid reproach, you would yield to his overtures; and thus the affair could be salved over. Such men have their agents; and one of his has been reporting your movements to this prince of darkness. Has he no humble friend or dependant, subservient to all his wishes?"

I replied that I had never seen him familiar with any one but his groom George, who was always more than civil to me.

uncertainty rested on his mind.

"Edith," he exclaimed, as she entered, "your face was wont to be my mirror of hope; but now it forebodes evil. Does no beam of light glance across the darkness?"

"Darkness!" she replied, "there is no darkness, except in the minds of the malicious and contracted. I blush that the high-born Sydney could lend an ear to so foul a tale." She then gave him a history of the transactions between Col. Webster and myself, and of the circumstances which induced me to wish to leave Sir John's. When she had done, not a doubt of the plot's being a fabrication of Heyward's, remained on his mind; and his first impulse was to confront the villain and demand instant recantation of what he had reported, or else to take the satisfaction which justice and honor required. "But, Edith," he said, "this will

"Did you pass or see him the evening you met be no reparation for the injury I have done Constance. Webster?"

"Yes, I saw him carrying up Heyward's phaeton as I went, and he passed again while Col. Webster was at the cottage."

"That is enough, Constance; he is the spy, depend on it. For confirmation, we will compare notes with Sweeney, whose acuteness is never at fault, you know." My breast heaved with agonizing emotion, when I felt that the dart of the destroyer had reached me in this my last covert, and yielding to the weakness of nature, I burst into tears.

I feel that her scorn is my due, and that I cannot meet her indignant glance without being miserable forever."

"There is no danger of encountering it shortly, I assure you. From her present mood, I believe she will not soon trouble you with her presence."

"Good heavens, Edith! then I have plunged the dagger into my own bosom! Tell her it was the love that brooks not a rival, that phrenzied my mind, and set my soul aflame.-What presumption! I never told her in set phrase that I loved her, though every look and every action confessed it. Was it a delusion! I "Is this weakness becoming Constance Marion ?" thought my love had an advocate in her own bosom. exclaimed Edith. "Rather let her stand erect in inno-Edith, forgiveness must be a part of so divine a being cence, to the confusion of vice and hypocrisy; for as II will throw myself at her feet, and plead the memory

of our past confidence and happiness. Go, ask her to | we heard nothing from our troops, except by the occa give me a moment's interview. A refusal will seal for me a miserable destiny."

sional visits of Sweeney. He told us that the brigade on Snow's island had made some successful sorties on the enemy, but the marauder and his gang were still lurking in the morasses of the Pedee.

After much persuasion on Edith's part, I consented to see Norwood, resolving that I would abate nothing of my resentment. Oh, how weak are our resolves, Sweeney was off again to the camp, and did not return when they are combatted by the affections! I heard as usual to bring us tidings. At length I became uneasy, his self-reproaches, and I knew they were sincere. The and had fearful apprehensions of some disaster at my deep pathos of that voice, which in former days had so uncle's quarters. In this melancholy frame of mind I often sent the thrill of delight through my soul, now walked out alone, (for grief loves solitude,) and purtrembling with emotion, while he confessed his fault, suing the path towards Kate's cottage, reached the melted down my harshest feelings towards him into a door before I was conscious that I was near it. My tide of deep and unalloyed sympathy with the sufferer. attention was caught by hearing my own name proOur interview ended with the confession of an attach-nounced in a low voice by a stranger. I stood utterly ment which two years of absence and trial had only deepened, and our mutual faith was plighted on the altar of true love, whose fires burned brighter and brighter, as congenial tastes and dispositions were developed. Oh! it was a sweet moment to me, when my heart which had so long been buffeted by the storms of life and the conflicting passions of a proud and sensitive nature, seemed to cast its anchor of hope into this haven of perfect happiness.

Edith's joy at this issue of the scene, was too evident to be concealed. She declared that there was nothing 50 fine as a storm to clear the atmosphere of the affections. "But now, Constance," she said, "let there be no more clouds; I have no patience with these ups and downs, which poets say are essential to the existence of true love: where the heart once confidently trusts, I think it may trust forever. I see my lecture does not well assort with your buoyant feelings; so I will reserve the remainder for Sydney, whose Quixotic bravery I fear will involve him in an affray with Heyward."

Her words struck me with instant alarm; for I knew the inflexible hatred of Heyward towards any one whom he thought his rival with me. It was not with⚫out earnest persuasion, and even tears, that I prevailed on Norwood to relinquish his purpose of calling him to immediate account for his conduct. Edith added her advice on the subject, in her characteristic manner, by reminding Sydney that he had an affair of honor on hand of longer claim and more momentous consequence, to which his attention, she thought, was first due.

"And what is that, Edith ?" he replied: "since you and Constance have undertaken to judge for me on the point of honor, I should like to know my future course

of conduct."

confounded, for I heard Sweeney say in reply, “As your business is a secret, Kate had better step up and give her a hint to come down.”

I could listen no longer, but hastily opening the door, entered. The first person I saw was a man of pleasing countenance, habited in a citizen's dress. Sweeney was sitting near him, with his eye anxiously fixed on the door, as if fearing intrusion. He started on seeing me, but it was the surprise of pleasure. "Your servant, Miss; this is a God-send, your coming just now," (looking at the stranger.) He bowed respectfully, and requested Sweeney to observe we were not interrupted while he did his errand. He then informed me that he was the bearer of an important letter to me. He said he knew not its contents, and only obeyed the behest of a person dearer to him than life, in delivering it to the lady, with a caution to read it alone. I felt my courage vacillate while the man ripped the leather of his jack-boot, in which the token was secreted; but looking towards Sweeney, I saw his countenance calm and confiding, and was reassured. As soon as the paper was extricated, I retired into a little inner room with the letter. It was without superscription or signature. The hand struck me as one I had seen before. Could it be?-yes, it was Col. Webster's. I scarcely breathed while I read the following words:

"A real friend-one who scorns the base attempt to

link your fair name or his own with infamy, braves the danger of losing his station in the British army, to warn you of a plot formed by your worst enemy, to surprise the camp of

with him is to get possession of your person. I cannot ; but doubtless the primary object believe he has joined the marauders under British colors with any other motive. I esteem it more than "Have you not pledged your sword, and even your disgraceful to gain conquests leagued with banditti. I life, to defend and establish the liberty of your country? communicate this information that you may take such Should you without forethought or due investigation measures as prudence requires for your own safety, rush on danger, or perhaps death? Let time develop and give the necessary warning to others. This must this plot. Gen. Marion being Constance's nearest rela-all be done in perfect secrecy, and no time lost on your tion, will take every measure to arrest the calumny, if it has obtained any credit; and if there is to be any fighting, I am sure he will let you be the champion on her side."

"Well, Edith, under your ridicule I dare say there is some wisdom; so I must e'en break the spell that binds me here, and rejoin my brigade."

In a few hours afterwards I sat alone, watching the last glimpses of Norwood's plumes, as he passed down

the avenue.

For some time, our life went on very quietly at the Lodge. The country was infested with the enemy, and

part, as I have reason to believe the enemy are already secretly approaching your quarters. This intelligence I send you by a trusty hand. Destroy the record of it, and dismiss him silently. God preserve you from the machinations of one whom you have every reason to fear."

I could not mistake the noble feelings that dictated this communication, and I trembled under a weight of horror and apprehension; but there was no time to yield to feelings of this sort. I roused myself to consider what was best to be done; and resolving to be myself the bearer of the intelligence to my uncle, re

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