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'Tis thine the bliss of youthful hearts to heighten, the water's edge, and casting their deep shadows far With lyre attuned to mirth's inspiring lay;
out, so that you often sail along for a mile, with the The radiant eyes of beauty thou canst brighten umbrageous green of the trees keeping the sun's rays, Make the dull cheerful, and delight the gay. from your head, while just beyond they glance and
sparkle in the waves. The Bluff above Fort WashingAnd thou canst o'er the soul, shed gleams of glory,
ton-the woody heights of Mount Vernon-the bigh In sacred sounds that bear the spirits high
banks at Liberty—the cliffs at Stratford, and many Beyond the earth ; and to the gray, the hoary,
other points, present commanding views. Between Bring promise of a youth that shall not die.
these and similar ranges of hills lie extended for miles Thy spells bring back sweet thoughts, young hopes, yet
and miles, the fields gently sloping, as we have just sadness
said, to the water's edge, crowned during the summer Blends with my joy, and most of all I love
season, with the "abundant harvest”-plantations of Those holy anthems, that in solemn gladness
wheat, corn, and tobacco-looking rich and full, and Arise in praises to the throne above.
betokening a land where nature has been kind and
bounteous and man not inactive-but where much yet Still, Music, be it thine to wake devotion,
remains to be done. To stir each virtuous feeling of the soul
No river in the country possesses finer or more comAll generous thoughts and every pure emotion, manding sites for country seats on its banks, than the Be subject, power divine, to thy control !
Potomac. These have often, with much good taste, November, 1838,
E. A. S. been occupied, and adorned with mansions, where hos
pitality is dispensed with a liberal and generous hand. The tall and elegant Lombardy Poplar will often mark these sites, where the houses themselves are screened
from view by the other trees with which they are surPOTOMAC RIVER.
rounded. It is a luxury, indeed, to sit in the porticoes
of these mansions-how often have we enjoyed it!“Dear native stream ! like peace, so placidy Smoothing through fertile fields thy current meek!
with the sun wheeling on its broad disk behind the Vir.
ginia hills'—and the fresh breeze blowing right from the Scenes of my youth ! the asking eye ye leave,
ocean—to look up and down, the river rolling at your Like yon bright hues that paint the clouds of eve."
feet, as far as the eye can reach-your view limited only
on the one side by the mountains which you can faintly Let us essay to discourse somewhat of the noble distinguish like stationary clouds in the horizon, and on river which laves our shores, albeit we know it will be the other, never ending till the clouds and water seem a feeble effort. Indeed, we never pass up and down the to unite and mingle together, and the vision can pierce Potomac, (which is, happily, often our wont,) without no farther ! being strongly urged by our feelings to “utter its The Potomac is a tortuous river, and its channel is praises.” With its limpid sources in the highlands-more sinuous and winding than its course. Sometimes its turmoil with the rocks—and its victory over the you strike out into a broad bay, where navies might ride mountains, we are not familiar, though it has been our with ease, the shores looking dim and hazy in the disfortune to stand on Jefferson's Rock at Harper's Ferry, tance; then you approach a point, and doubling its and spend hours at the Great Falls—both possessing, shoal you run into deep water within a few yards of the in their scenery, as much of the grandeur of nature, as, beach, along which you sail, until again you shoot across perhaps, any other two places on the continent—Niagara the stream and reach the opposite shore. The skilfal hardly excepted. But, when old Potomac leaves the pilot ‘threads his way,' boldly—for he, generally, has hills, and ceasing to be obstructed by the obstacles which ample space and verge enough.' The 'Reaches of the impede his course and lash him into foam, quietly river, too, as they are called, are among its greatest expands into a broad and tranquil stream affected only beauties—such as Washington's Reach-Nanjemoy by the winds and tides, almost until he, as quietly, Reach, &c. Afar off the land appears to 'lock' on falls into the ocean's bosom, he is our ouon !
either side, and you would think the river abruptly If any one fond of nature's beauties-quiet beauties terminated at the foot of a range of hills. Approachwishes to indulge his taste, let him on some pleasant ing nearer you find it gracefully curving a projecting day in summer, when there is breeze enough to fan the bank, rounding which, another expanse of water opens waters and fill the sails of the vessels, ensconce himself to your view, and appears again to end in a similar on board one of the fine steamboats that continually manner. It is thus that the view is continually varyplough the waves of this river, and there, taking his ing-still beginning, never ending-diversified with seat under the awning of the promenade deck, as he all that can please the eye or gratify our sense of natuglides past the shores, "drink in with his eyes," all that ral beauty, he sees around, below, and above him, until his soul The river is not a solitary highway, where only eoverflows with thankfulness to the Giver of so much casionally the cars of commerce move in their trackless that is calculated to soften, refine, and delight him! path. There are no prettier vessels any where, than
There is no very bold and rugged scenery on the the craft that dot the surface of the Potomac, and are river, from the Anacostia down to its mouth,- but the seen skimming along, with their white sails spread to general regular slope of the shores, both on the Mary- the wind, wherever the eye wanders. Cheerily the land and Virginia sides, is agreeably diversified, at sound of the craftman's song is heard across the water, intervals, with lofty cliffs and promontories, wooded to land often he beguiles his silent watches with the music
of the violin, which, though rude, sounds not unplea
LUCILE: santly to the ear as it comes mellowed by distance.-These little vessels you meet constantly-you see them
A NOVELETTE. stealing out from the creeks that run far inland, and
By the Authoress of “ The Curse." hovering about the shores as if afraid to venture outand then you may follow them pushing boldly into the middle of the stream, spreading their canvass to catch
CHAPTER VII. the breeze, and often careening under its power, until Guido.-Ah, my life, they turn their very keels to view. Moving majesti Flowers are all the jewels I can give thee; cally in a fleet of these, you will meet the stately ship, I have no castle in whose stately halls
Vassals or kinsmen wait to welcome thee. heavily laden, returning to port, or departing on her voy
lanthe.-Oh! love asks nothing but the heart. age-a “Triton among the minnows"-or oftener still, the sea vessels of a smaller size, but yet far larger than
LETTER FROM GREY TO LUCILE. the craft, wending their way through this great thoroughfare formed by nature.
“Many, many weary weeks have elapsed, dear LuOf the hundreds of beautiful creeks—many of them abode. I have watched for thee with a fevered heart,
cile, since we last met. In vain have I haunted thy larger than the streams that are dignified with the name and when by accident I obtained a glimpse of thee, of rivers in Europe—that empty themselves into the Victor was beside thee. I have seen, my beloved, that Potomac, and add to its grandeur—though we have thy cheek is pale
, and the tears were glittering in thy explored not a few—we design not to speak. Let our dark eyes, even when he was wooing thee to forsake experience in "crabbing and fishing,” in the shelter-thy chosen one and share the brilliant destiny which ed nooks they form, be “unwritten.” But Cameron, he offers to thy acceptance. Ah, Lucile! my heart is Pohick, Aquia, Occoquan, Cholank! we know you sorrowful for thy sufferings, but still it thrills with joy all-we love you all-the last not least-nor, though not on our native shores, are we altogether igno- zled by the splendor of the future, to which he calls
to think that the eye dimmed with tears cannot be dazrant of Mattawoman, Piscataway, Nanjemoy, and their fellow tributaries, from Maryland to the great spirit over the dark waters of life, but like the dove of
thy onward gaze. He may bid thee send forth thy Potomac.
old it will find no land of promise whereon to fold the When we write about this river, we "speak that we weary wing, and it will bring back no symbol of peace do know.” We have seen Potomac in all his moods and to thy sorrowful soul. And do I not love thee more tempers-furious and boisterous—placid and gentle-deeply, more dearly for thy unswerving faith? Are not clear and still-turgid and rapid—and in all there is our souls knit together by a deeper, holier tie, than grandeur and beauty. We have stood where the wide those whose Heaven is all sunshine? whose hearts river stretches out into a miniature sea-five or six miles ne'er knew what a hallowed thing unwavering love across from shore to shorc—and listened to the waves as may become ? My soul is filled with thee-Thy glorithey gently rolled in and broke upon the beach, with a
ous beauty, and thy gentle nature have woven a spell low and soft murmur, that seemed to lull them to rest around me, that is on my whole being. There is not and, again, upon the same spot, we have heard the loud an hour that thou art not ever with me in my thoughts. roar of the waters, as they rushed, white capped, upon I have been painting a likeness of the mother and inthe banks, shooting far up their surf and spray, and fant Jesus, and in the heavenly brow of that madona retiring with a like mad impetuosity, as if angry at I recognize a resemblance to thee, my heart's ideal; being baulked in their purpose of encroaching upon the and again in the smiling mouth of the sleeping cherub land.
thy expression breaks on me. I sit for hours before it, And 0! the glorious sunsets that we have seen whilst my hand hanging listless by my side, gazing on that passing up the river ! Once we remember, just as we smile, and dreaming of thee. How is this to end? To reached Mount Vernon, hallowed spot! a flood of glory lose thee will be to lose the beacon light that guides was thrown over the scene which made it enchanting. me on to fame--to tear the mantle of genius from The day expired in splendor. Wood and water were my soul, and trample it in the dust and mire. To dyed a thousand hues, and the vencrable mansion of the win thee from thy home, to follow my weary pilfather of his country, stood out, as it were, from the grimage, is to ask of thee to sacrifice the elegancies, heights, in the strong yet chastened light, with a dis- almost the necessaries of life, to brighten my othertinctness unusual. Every eye was turned to it. A deep wise desolate lot. And thy obdurate father : though silence reigned; but we all stood uncovered, and even he has no sympathy for me, or even for thee, his the sailors, catching the inspiration of the moment, lean- Jown, his only child, I cannot think of his desolation, ed over the side of the vessel, and gazed in admiration deprived of thee, without shuddering at the thought at the scene. Slowly and gradually as we receded from of his lonely age--his solitary dwelling; yet the choice the shores, the brilliant colors of the setting sun were will be his to receive his lost treasure back again with lost in the approaching shades of night, and Mount Ver- pardon, or yield her to the protection of as true and non became indistinct in the distance.
loving a heart as ever was offered at the shrine of But enough of Potomac, for this once. Hereafter we woman. may, if this is not too much of our “bald, disjointed "I can no longer endure this life, Lucile. It unfits me chat,'' fill another page, on the same theme.
for every thing, and I know that thou art not less un
happy than myself. End this suspense-decide thy Alerandria, D. C., Sept., 1839.
fate and mine. In a few days I sail for America-the
home of my forefathers: I have an uncle there—a poor | scornfully. “There is at least one way of releasing but a good man-he has written for me to come to him, me from this detestable bondage: by withdrawing and the little property that he possesses shall eventually yourself from this place, you can free me from the marbecome mine.
riage, and your own presence at the same time.” "A ship is floating in the harbor now,
“You are flattering, my pretty coz; but in truth A wind is hov'ring o'er the mountain's brow
you ask too much, when you expect me to withdraw The halcyons brood around the foamless isles ;
myself from your presence or to offend my uncle by The treacherous ocean has forsworn its wiles;
declining an alliance on which his heart is set ; but, The merry mariners are bold and free,
truth to tell, not half so much as my own. Grey can. Say, my heart's idol, wilt thou sail with me? not love you better than I, and the balance will be much “Answer me, adored Lucile: weigh all thy present in your favor by remaining under your father's roof. advantages against the vigilant affection which will Excuse me, Lucile, but your pale cheek, and chilling suffer no sorrow, that love may avert, to fall on thy reserve, since I have been taught to look on you as my gentle heart; which will view thee as the shrined di- affianced bride, have wearied me; and if I appear barsh vinity of my home-an angel presiding over my house- or unfeeling, it is because I use the language of plain hold gods—and then choose thy destiny. I have common sense ; yet there is not the less of deep and health, energy, and hope ; why then shall I not be true affection in my heart for you. I have too high a enabled to win for thee a home in that far land to regard for your happiness, to permit you to wed Grey. which I hasten, which if less splendid than thy native if I do not marry you myself, your father will be ofone, will be thrice blessed by the undying love which fended, and cast me off. You will eventually elope will brighten our lowly lot. Meet me to-morrow even with this painter, and leave me to wear the willow." ing. I shall be in the pavilion when the moon is “You speak lightly, sir—as if happiness were a jest, rising. Come to me with thy heart full of love, and and affection transferable at will." thy soul nerved to endure the separation from thy early "If I do speak lightly, Lucile,” said he earnestly, home—the severing of thy early ties for one which shall “God knows I feel deeply. Do you suppose that your replace them all. Forgive my seeming presumption--evident shrinking has not cut me to the heart? or that I doubt thee not, because my heart has taught me the I have watched your struggles of feeling without bitter. faith of thine. Adieu.
S. G." ness ? No-1 should have been more or less than man “And how have I deserved this trust ?” murmured could I have done so. Address your appeal to your the unhappy girl, clasping her hands over her pallid father—if his consent can be won, I will resign you at brow.” I, who even now am expecting each moment once to my more fortunate rival, though in so doing I the entrance of him to whom a few more days will destroy my own hopes of happiness. At this moment give a husband's claim to my love. I have been weak; I more deeply envy Sidney Grey, in his poverty and wavering where I should have been most firm. I will friendlessness, than I ever dreamed I should envy any make one more appeal, and if 'tis fruitless, I can but man. Take back your letter, Lucile-I do not wish to lie down and die ; for let me turn whither I will, there read it,my course is decided. Yet I pray you do not is no hope for me. On one hand the curse of a father think me intentionally unkind.” He threw the letter on hangs suspended over my head; and on the other, the her lap, and hastily left the room. madness of suffering Sidney to believe me false as “Oh, Heaven! what will become of me?" she ex. weak."
claimed. “Is there no avenue of escape for me ? Cruel! She arose and paced the room wildly. In a few cruel Victor! to exact the fulfilment of the bond! Oh, moments Victor entered. He looked at her an instant God! be thou my friend, for hope has deserted me." in surprise. “Well, my fair cousin, I am happy to “Lady, you have a friend, if you have the courage to see that you are at last wearied with your listless de embrace his proposal," said a low voice at her side. meanor, and have concluded not to look as if hope was She turned and beheld the priest. forever banished from your heart. Why, what has “What is it ?" inquired she, scarcely conscious of thus excited you, my beautiful ?” he inquired, playfully what she was uttering. touching her cheek, on which a spot of deep crimson “To fly from tyranny, and reward the noble heart glowed. She drew back haughtily—then suddenly which would shed the last drop of blood that gives life throwing herself before him she exclaimed :
to it for your sake. The letter was not dropped by Victor, behold me a suppliant at your feet : If you accident. I promised that it should reach you, and you would not see me die here—if you have one spark of have it. Can you hesitate when you love him, and he generosity or human feeling in your heart, be not cal. woos you to become his bride ? Another week will lous to my appeal. Read this letter-it reached me by leave you no power to choose between the evil of hopeaccident, for the wily priest dropped it, without intend. Icss love, or a heartless marriage.” ing it, when he came to me with a message from my “And my father ?” father. I am your plighted bride ; but you well know “Leave him to his own devices," returned the priest, that I was terrified into becoming so, by the violence with a scornful laugh. “If you are the light of his life of my father. Oh, Victor! save me from becoming a the joy of his eyes-he will recall you; if not, why le! loveless wife, or an accursed child."
him live on in the solitude to which his stubborn pride Victor appeared affected, as he raised her from the will doom him, while you bring joy to the heart that is floor, and placed her on a seat. “Dear Lucile, why devoted to you. Say but the word, lady, and before make such an appeal to me? You know full well that your bridal day all things shall be in readiness for your I have no power to turn your father from his purpose.” flight. Read that letter once more, and then make your
“Do not make so pitiful an evasion,” said Lucile,' decision.”
“It needs it not-my decision is already made," said All the pride of his haughty nature centered in his Lucile, with a calmness that surprised herself. “Any daughter. She was the Peri of his house-the inheridestiny, however dark, were preferable to a separation tor of her mother's matchless beauty; the heiress of his from him. Repeat my words to him, and say that to- vast wealth, his unsullied name. He might have said morrow evening will find me at the pavilion, without in the tender and exquisite words of the poet : fail, ready to forsake all and follow him in exile or death.”
“ Her's was the voice that soothed my home;
She was my world, my life, my light; The priest bowed low and left her. “The die is
The care, the charm that blessed my eyes, cast,” she murmured. "A few more hours and my poor That filled the day, and filled the night. old father will be desolate. Yet he has driven me to it. Had he continued the same to me that he once was,
Her image mirrored back my heart;
My life's best days were on her brow, I could never have abandoned him-not even for Sid.
One constant light of happiness.” ney, truly as I love him.”
Her once indulgent parent had indeed changed. Lat Yet with all this love for his child, he saw her fading terly she almost feared to go into his presence: he before his eyes, without entertaining a thought of sacri, received her with frowns, and his lips seldom unclosed ficing the cherished aim of his life. Conscious that he but to utter some sarcasm against her faded looks, or was inflicting misery where he desired to bestow hapexpress bitter contempt for her absent lover. The piness, he became morose and embittered toward every kindlier feelings of his nature appeared to be embittered one. He had not sufficient self-command to repress against all around him, and her consent to wed her bis harshness, yet when he saw the tears his daughter cousin had been wrung from her in a moment of frantic vainly endeavored to conceal, he would have relented, passion, when the curse of an offended parent was had not his unbending nature impelled him to persevere trenibling on his lip. The consent had no sooner been in what he had once undertaken. given, than her father insisted on the marriage taking "Men have died, and worms have ate them, but not place, so soon as preparations could be made to celebrate for love,” muttered he; "aye, and women too-their it on the magnificent scale he desired. Already was hearts are made of sterner stuff than to break for a trifle. the mansion crowded with their "troops of friends," She will fret a little now, but soon the rose will come who had gathered around them for the joyful occasion, to her cheek, and those soft eyes will look with renewed and many were the comments made on the depression joy on this beautiful world. She shall never miss the and la nguor of the fair bride. The younger portion of love I have denied her: my care shall be so unwearied, the guests looked on the superb trousseau of their com- and Victor will be so devoted. Ah, no! she cannot panion, and marvelled that the possessor of so much long grieve for what is unattainable.” And thus he splendor, and the betrothed of the handsome Victor, silenced the “still small voice” that was whispering to should wear so joyless an expression. They little him of a broken heart, and an early grave. dreamed that a thrill of silent agony shot through that wearied heart, at every fresh proof of her father's osten. tation, in thus decking the victim of his pride, while he
CHAPTER VIII. refused to her even a few short weeks in which to
My noble father, reconcile herself to the new destiny that awaited her.
I do perceive here a divided duty : Victor would willingly have delayed the marriage until his cousin became less repugnant to it; but the
But here's my husband; imperious father had so long reigned over his household And so much duty as my mother showed with despotic sway, that any hint of a proposal of the
To you, preferring you before her father,
So much I challenge that I may profess kind elicited such a storm of passion, that, fearing to
Due to the Moor, my lord.
Othello. offend him, and thus forfeit not only his cousin, but all hope of future assistance from him, he became the pas The bridal evening came. It was as glorious a night sive instrument of the irascible old man.
as ever a bright moon shone on. The mansion flashed Victor was the only child of a younger brother, who with a thousand lights, and the mingled sounds of muhad dissipated his slender patrimony long before his sic, and words of welcome, were borne forth on the still death, and from infancy he had been dependent on his air of night, a's group after group arrived at the door, uncle. General Montressor had spared no expense in and received the hearty greeting of their host. giving him a fitting education ; and while the two chil Lucile was in her dressing room, surrounded by a dren were yet in their cradles, their future destiny had bevy of dark-eyed houris, who were lo act as bridebeen decided in his own mind. His own observations maids to her. had taught him that those who are reared together sel “Well, Lucile,” said one, “I believe your own taste dom become attached with other than the love of kin is purest after all. Those simple orange flowers dred, and to guard against this he had suffered his wreathed in your raven hair, are more beautiful than nephew to be educated in his native land, while his jewels; and that robe of embroidered muslin is certainly daughter grew in loveliness beneath his own roof. On more elegant than this of lace and satin; but then you the death of both his parents, within a few hours of are so beautiful that you need not the foreign aid of each other, Sidney Grey had been adopted into his ornament.' What will your father say to your simple family, and it never occurred to the old soldier that the toilette, when his wish was to see you not only the two bright creatures who played around him in infancy, fairest, but the most sumptuously attired bride, that our should ever dream of being more to each other than island could produce.” brother and sister.
“ He will not have much thought to bestow on my
dress, and a few hours hence, I fear, it will matter little moment it were easier far to yield a world than the to him what I may wear or how appear. A few more love of that noble heart. brief moments and my destiny will be decided," she “I do, fondly, faithfully, implicitly.” She turned her murmured in a low tone. “Oh, God! in mercy soften farewell glance on the home she had left, gleaming my father's heart in my favor."
through the trees like a fairy palace. A strain of muHalf an hour later a gay burst of music swept through sic came on the wind. “ Hark! 'tis the triumphal the wide halls: the folding doors were thrown open to march with which the bridal party were lo enter the admit the bridal party, and to the surprise of every one saloon, and I am here. We must hasten bence or be the bridegroom alone appeared, with a face of the hue discovered,” and with a long, struggling sigh, she turned of death, and hastily advancing to General Montressor from her home! whispered something in his ear. He sank on a seat They had proceeded but few steps from the door, overpowered by his emotions; but instantly starting when with one wild bound, Victor sprang in the midst up, left the room and proceeded with hasty strides to of the group, and dashing the servant aside, endeavored the chamber of his daughter. At the door he met the to wrench Lucile from the grasp of her lover, while he terrified Agnes.
presented a pistol to his breast. "Speak-lell me the truth, on peril of your life,” said “Yield her or die!” said he, as Sidney struck the be, catching the girl by the arm. “Where is my weapon up with one hand, and with the other defended daughter ? your young mistress? Guide me to her this Lucile from his violence. instant."
“Never-so help me Heaven. Back, foolish boy, “ 'Deed, sir-master-I doesn't know. She sent me and seek not to stain your soul with the crime of murout and axed the ladies to leave her alone a few moments der." “ until Mas' Victor came;" said the trembling negro. Victor ground his teeth with fury, and drew a second “ 'Deed, I doesn't know where she went to.”
pistol from his breast-"Liar,” said the excited father ; bending his white “Hold,” exclaimed Lucile, “ 'tis too late to claim me lips to the ear of the girl, he continued, “I know you now. I am his in the sight of Heaven, as in the fervor are in her confidence-tell me where I can find her, and of my own love." freedom is your'smaye, freedom-think of it-think of “ 'Tis not too late to sever the bond," said Victor, it. Refuse, and by the Eternal I will kill you where firing as she spoke. The arm that supported her relaxed you stand.”
its hold, and Sidney staggered back against a tree. The eyes of Agnes rolled in wild terror, and for an “Oh, God--oh, God! what have I done to bring on instant she seemed undecided, but her master tightened me such extremity of wretchedness," shrieked the unhis grasp on her arm, and said in a low hissing tone, happy Lucile. “Back-back-touch me not thou “Decide-freedom, or--you know the alternative." demon of my fate. Till you came, I was happy-and
She pointed to the garden. Dashing her from him, hear me now swear before the God of my fathers, that with hasty steps, he threaded his way through the tor- if Sidney is the victim to your insane fury, I pour on tuous pathway leading to the pavilion, preceded by you the curse of a stricken heart. Leave me, before Victor, who had no sooner heard the words of the girl madness comes and darkens the soul you have lain than he rushed forward with the speed of a maniac. desolate." The roused soul that flashed from her dila
“Thank Heaven, I am armed,” muttered he; "and ted eyes, and lightened over her whole countenance, 'will be hard, but I wrest her from him. To lose her awed her cousin into silence. now--to be the scoff of witlings and fools, were worse “Lucile, dearest Lucile! calm your agony,” said than death. Mine she must be at any expense.” And Sidney, recovering from the shock he had received, “I grinding his teeth with rage, he sped on with renewed am not wounded. Your dear image has been my guaractivity.
dian angel to save me from the weapon of yon mad. The pavilion was not yet vacated by those who man. Look," and he drew from his bosom a miniature should have been far away. The moonlight was stream. which had been shattered. The gold setting had been ing through the windows on two figures, and a third a shield against the bullet of her kinsman, which but for one stood without. A white-robed girl supported by it, had stretched him lifeless at her feet. the wreathing clasp of her lover, as if about to move Oh, God! I thank thee ! any wretchedness I can forward, and a stout heavy built man, who stood as bear but his loss," murmured Lucile, raising her clasped sentinel at the door, appeared accoutred for the road. hands to Heaven, and bursting into a violent passion of Tapping on the steps with his whip, he said
“You had best hurry, sénor--the carriage is waiting For some moments General Montressor had stood a at the end of the avenue.”
mute witness of the scene. He now broke silence, and “Let us be going, dearest,” said Sidney. “Your in a voice which had lost none of its sternness said absence must soon be discovered.”
“Tears well become you, and if they sprang from the “Ah, let me take one more look at my forsaken right source, I might yet have some hope of recalling home. Before I leave it, perhaps forever, suffer me to you to the sphere you have wilfully abandoned. Speak, waft back one more blessing to my old father-aban- degenerate daughter of my house--choose your fatedoned in his latter days by his only child. Ah, Sid-'tis the last moment of hope-abandon him to whom ney, were not my love as strong as death, as deeply you cling--return to your home, and all shall be for. seated as the foundations of my very being, I could not given. Follow his fortunes, and I will never see you leave him thus."
more--the pall of forgetfulness shall shroud your very “Put your trust in me, Lucile,” murmured Sidney, being from my knowledge. Speak--decide.” in tones of such thrilling tenderness, that she felt at that “Oh, father! is there no hope? You will not cast me