VOL. X.-[I. NEW SERIES.]

From the Casket.

The Mother and Daughter.

BY L. H. M.

When lovely woman stoops to folly,

And finds, too late, that men betray,
What charm can soothe her melancholy,
What art can wash her guilt away?

The only art her guilt to cover

NO.20. Not being, however, ill tempered in the main, Sesame of this one, baffled even her ingenuity, the good dame loved Euthanasia very dearly, in spite of her beauty and the mystery that hung about her; and as she had very extraordinary ways of showing affection, she had already much injured the innocent girl by babbling about her doubts, ideas, and own opinion concerning her birth, origin, and bringing up.

attractions, but no mind; and from the same desire for peace, he had allowed her to run a course of the most ridiculous extravagance, hoping that the evil would cure itself; but he was beginning to discover that the disease fed itself, and increased daily; moreover, his quiet and much desired ease suffered continual interruption from visitors by day, and parties by night, varied by occasional importunate tradespeople, and grumbling servants. But it was much easier to say such doings Mrs. Freeman was blessed with a resolute at Mr. Freeman's house,-which house was should cease, than to make his words good. ceremonie introduced our readers, took place The family scene to which we have sans will, a loud voice, and a most indefatigable situate, infinitely to the mortification of Mrs. tongue. She supported her cause with Freeman, in Spruce instead of Chesnut No! the natter of fact is, Mrs. Freeman, praiseworthy candour and astonishing cool-which had seemed nearly ended, was, by the Amazonian courage, and declared, with much street,-the interesting matrimonial dialogue, that you want to be younger than you are. ness, that she had married to have her own unlucky mention of ages, resumed on the and will listen to no, arguments tending to award bese, the four if Me Kosame contrary conviction."

To hide her shame from every eye, To give repentance to her lover,

And wring his bosom-is to die.-GOLDSMITH. THE fact of the matter is, Mr. Freeman, that you are growing old and cross, and can make no reasonable allowances for the little peccadillos of youth.'

W

and pray, Mr. Freeman, how old am I?" Somewhere on the wintry side of thirty, I imagine, my dear.'

Mr. Freeman, I disdain to answer you, sir! I don't often speak my mind, sir, but when I do I can talk as well as my neighbors.'

I never doubted it, my dear,' replied he,

coolly.

This retort uncourteous, which seemed to blame; for what besides had he to marry? be the winding up of a very strenuous debate, This last argument was terribly convincing, was uttered by a gentleman of about fifty years and poor Mr. Freeman would echo, with a of age, to a lady who had not numbered above disconsolate sigh, What, indeed ? Amidst 'Mr. Freeman, sir, it is a false slander. two-thirds ofthat amount; and if the character all these annoyances, there was one fountain-I was twenty-four when I married you, two may be judged from the countenance, a spring of joy in the wild waste of indifference years ago-I am sure I shan't forget the time.' looker-on would readily have declared the-one blossom of love was blooming through Nor I, my dear; my remembrances are dispositions of the pair to be as dissimilar as every discord-one voice still sounded true both long and striking.' their ages. Mr. Freeman was a man with to melody and gentleness,-Mr. Freeman had whom the world had dealt hardly ;-born with a darling child. And well did the beautiful warm and generous feelings, he had early Euthanasia merit her doating father's love, been the dupe of the cunning and the cold; she was the daughter of a southern clime, and and though the cautery of misfortune had not the sunbright skies of her native land were wholly consumed those kindly affections, it not more resplendent, in heaven's own lustre, yet had seared and blunted them; disappoint- than her dark, soul-fraught eye; the wild ment, too, and that, where his heart had antelope, bounding in beauty over the golden most been garnered,-poured its gall into the sand, was not more true to nature and to milk of human nature, and tinged his words grace, than every motion of her perfect form; with bitterness; yet, as the rarest and loveliest and yet, her loveliness was forgotten in that flowers are found upon the rockiest ground. something than beauty dearer-the soul-the so beneath the caustic coldness of Mr. Frec- spirit in her face-the generous enthusiasm man's manner there lay a fund of generosity the winuing tenderness that graced her words and goodness, which never yet bade the and won the hearer's heart with love. Of the wretched go and wail elsewhere.' Like mother of Euthanasia, question nor answer many a man who, in matters of importance, were never made; that he had met her. loved 'Well, and isn't there the French Countesse is firm and decisive, yet easy, to weakness. and lost her, in his foreign travels, was all la Parvenue, who would rather dine here than in trifles, Mr. Freeman had suffered himself that curiosity could gain of information; and at any house in Philadelphia?' to be half persuaded, half cajoled, into mar- though Mrs. Freeman was famed for her She is very condescending; don't you rying a young woman of considerable personal fondness for prying into secrets, the open think the expensive dishes you have sent from

Now don't get into a passion, Mr. Freeman-what's the good of flying out,' demanded his lady, whose face and voice began to threaten a storm. What is there to make you mad?-haven't you got an affectionate wife at home, and plenty of good friends abroad? Don't I talk to you, and amuse you? Do I leave you ever alone to be dull ?'

No. my dear, you certainly never do,' replied he, taking an encouraging pinch of snuff.

Fossard, for her, has any thing to say to it? | 'Silence! I command ye both,' cried Mr. | Can it be Euthanasia from whom I have Then there is the English Mrs. Dashaway- Freeman, now thoroughly roused; and turn-these words? or was she aware I heard them, who is so obliging as her? Hem! She is ing severely to his wife, Woman, what is and wished to prove that love which, even in pretty considerably in your debt, I believe.' this that you have done? Who and what is unkindness, is more deeply her's?' • For shame, Mr. Freeman-I am ashamed this man to whom you have dared to introduce The man who spoke thus, was past the of you; what objections will you make to my child?' spring-almost the summer of life; yet, years Mrs. Canter, Mrs. Straightlace, Mrs. Would'Had not quenched the open truthbefine, and a hundred others that visit here, The vivid coloring of youth,' and are so partial to me?'

Objections, my dear!' answered Mr. Freeman, quietly, none in the world; they use your carriage for a hack, your house for an hotel, your purse for a supply; they compliment you, courtesy to you, and laugh at you,-who's the fool, I pray ?'

• Go on, go un, sir; I won't be out of temper; you shan't make me angry; and pray, sir-pray Mr. Freeman, since you are so clever and so smart, and all that,-pray, Mr. Freeman, what will you say of Sir George Charles Belson-what is he, sir?'

Lord! here's a fuss! retorted Mrs. Freeman. Who is be? Why don't I tell you he is an English baronet, with ten thousand pounds a year, and a K. C. B. which means King of the Cold Bath, I suppose.'

A baronet, and Knight Commander of the Bath!' murmured her husband, dangerous enough tinsel that. Come hither Euthanasiawhere first did you meet this man ?'

His bold brow was as the tablet of unut

terable thoughts, whereon pride and genius, passion and imagination, had graven lines, which heightened intellect if they diminishedbeauty; his proud glance fell like the lightning flash, and often seemed alike to dare and defy the world; yet it could soften to more than At New-York, father; in the English woman's witching tenderness; and though consul's house.' his lip was often curved with proud contempt And he has followed you here?' de- or galling scorn, it could pour forth such manded he. words of magic sweetness, as made the 'rapt 'Father,' said Euthanasia, softly—' father, one tremble with delight. And Euthanasia I hope so.'

'You hope so! Alas! poor child, has the arrow stricken you so early-why was I not made acquainted with this before?'

loved him-with all the first, deep devotion of a woman's heart she loved him,―the very pride and darkness of his humor but held a stronger mastery over her; she was a young Lord have mercy on us, Mr. Freeman! romancer, and storm and shade were more what extraordinary questions you ask,- beautiful to her enthusiasm, than an unvaried deliver us!-why I suppose you'll want to sunlight-the rushing torrent, to the silent know next what I put on in the morning, and stream. It was long ere she replied; and how often Tany fixes her hair!—come child-though she dared not raise her eyes, she felt come with me; I want to talk with you about the gaze of Belson to her soul; at last, the new Sultana sleeves.' 'Sir George Belson,' she said.

⚫ One, on whom every god hath set his seal to give the world assurance of a man!' exclaimed a third voice, breaking in upon the dialogue with tones of such sweet fervency, that the listener held his breath to hear. It was Euthanasia. Too well used to these connubial fracuses to pay them much attention,|| she had been long seated upon a low pile of cushions, deeply engaged in arranging papers from a portfolio, which lay at her feet; by her side was couched a large Italian greyhound, Mrs. Freeman sailed off as she spoke, with of the purest breed, who, with his long silvery the air of a seventy-two, that has just fired 2 paws stretched across her feet, and his large settling broadside, and Euthanasia silently gazing eves home ... L y al of the long, graceful' curts, which, biance rather to rare statuary than to living,||untortured by scorching or frizzing, hung in breathing creatures. But the simile, which might hold good while the maiden's eyes were bent downwards, and her cheek as purely pale as the white muslin which draperied her, was lost when the above words passed her lips. She had sprung up and spoken with a burst of enthusiasm that had called the eloquent blood in volumes to her face; and now confusion doubled its glow, as the cold eye of her father rested on her.

native elegance down her swan-like throat;
and while parental tenderness softened his
rugged features, almost to beauty, exclaimed,

And is there one of these tendrils that is
not dear to me? My child-my darling-
guard yourself, for your fond father's life is
bound with yours.'

Sir George Belson!' interrupted he, passionately, and is it so that Euthanasia calls him whom once she professed to love? at once that you no longer love me?'

are

she, steadily do not be so unjust; I am Because it would not be true,' replied not formed to change with every passing breath; but this deception to my father, preys upon my heart. Oh, Belson! let me but have his blessing on our affection, and try me if weal or wo, life or death, can alter my regard.'

Euthanasia burst into tears: Father,' the human heart, and he at once perceived Sir George Belson was a mighty master of she exclaimed-' Father, I will tell you all' that though Euthanasia's generous temper she would have added, but a thundering knock|| might be won by entreaty, it could not be cowered by pride or reproach; he took her hand, and raising it to his lips with the most devoted humility, replied,

Ha, girl,' he said, slowly, and how may at the door prevented her words; and Mr. you answer for him so readily?'

Long tongues are sometimes useful, and|| Mrs. Freeman's was now serviceable to her daughter-in-law, for she struck in with,

And pray, why shouldn't she answer for him, pray? For my part, I think it shows her sense; for Sir George Charles Belson is-'

• Noble, generous, and true!' interrupted Euthanasia.

Freeman made a rapid exit to avoid the
dreaded clack of his lady's visitors' tongues.
Euthanasia looked long after him, and as the
tears gathered over her straining orbs, and
dropped heavily from their dark fringes, she
murmured—

can

Even so let it be then, my soul's best treasure; yet do me justice as to the motives which have prompted me to conceal what. kings might be proud to own. Euthanasia, Have I deserved this love, that deceive so much affection? Oh, Belson! helpless infancy, when deprived of my parent's you have heard me speak of my sister; in was this enforced concealment kindly done?|| fostering care, she gave her blooming youth to raise my sickly childhood; willingly she forsook the gay admiring world, and devoted herself, her talents, and her beauty, to solitude and me ;-with unequaled fortitude and love, she even resigned the man she loved, lest the duties of a wife should make her less mindful of her self-imposed charge to me. Now she

With a baronetcy and ten thousand pounds no; my father-my kind, generous, trusting a year!' edged in Mrs. Freeman.

The port of a lion-the gentleness of a ring dove exclaimed the other.

The Order of St. George-the medal of Waterloo-the title of a K. C. B. shrieked the lady mother, like a gull in a storm.

parent, it shall last no longer; even if it part
us forever, my father shall know all.'

As she spoke of her lover she turned
hastily to leave the room, and met himself;
he took her trembling hand, and leading her
back, said mournfully,

• Promise me then that I shall see you tonight, at Mrs. Gray's?'

is sinking in the vale of years, with impaired || read to my father, in his library—leave me,
health, broken spirits, and shattered nerves; pray you?'
her last desire is, to see me united to a friend
of her own; and though neither the lady in
question nor myself desire the match, we 'I had forgotten,' exclaimed she, suddenly,
both too much revere the dying saint to that you would excuse me-there was the
oppose her wishes openly. A few weeks-boon I would have asked-Belson, my father
nay, a few days, may close her toilsome path, dislikes Mrs. Gray exceedingly.'
and must he for whom she has done so much,
poison the latest dregs of life? Yet, Eutha-
nasia, let it be so-let your father know, and
publish to the world, what is, in fact, my
dearest joy; and if you are happier, I will
not repine that my sister, mother, guide,
instructress, and friend, shall heave her last
sigh for my ingratitude and baseness.'

a

The eye of the baronet grew dark as thunder cloud; he drew himself haughtily up to his fullest height, and said,

And it is my request, Euthanasia, that you do go. Mrs. Gray is my friend, and as such commands your respect. Am I in all things to be sacrificed to your father?' 'One must concede, and it shall be me; He turned away in deep emotion; a strug-farewell, sir-look you do not bend the bow gle crossed the sweet face of Euthanasia; then turning to him, with a voice suppressed by tears, she said,

Use your power over me well, Belson, for it is great; never shall it be said, that to gratify my weakness you wounded a heart like your noble sister's; let the subject drop between us; my happiness is too much bound in yours to find peace in what can give you pain.'

He caught her hand, and clasped the yielding girl to his manly breast; she raised her soft eyes to speak, but the proud, triumphant flash they met from his, struck cold upon her heart, and releasing herself, she said, with some effort,

to breaking.'

'I fear,' he answered, very low, ⋅ that she is mad.'

No, I am not mad,' replied the nun, though it had been small wonder if I were; for I have known treachery, sorrow, and sin enough to turn my brain; be not afraid of me, sweet lady, my office is to minister by the dying bed, and there I have heard of you. The spirit of my order is Charity and Peace, ||both of which dwell in your heart; virtue like yours should fear nothing.'

Nor do I fear you, good sister,' replied Euthanasia, promptly, ‘leave me, Sir George, I request it as a favor.'

• Well, I believe these venerable sisters make it a point to be paramount wherever they go, so I must yield. Farewell! remember we meet to-night at Mrs. Gray's—a Dios, love.'

Again did the lover prevent her retiring; and stooping from his pride the moment his The nun gazed earnestly after him, then end was gained, poured forth such winning repeating his last words solemnly: 'To God words of gratitude and love, that the bewitched ||—to God you commend her! Oh, man, man! girl too soon stood a willing listener. A dare you appeal to your Maker's name as a slight noise roused them. Oh, begone!' cover to your guilt! Young lady, this ring you. she cried, I forget all in hearing you.' left with the palsied woman-speak-he who has left you was the giver?' . He was.'

Not without the seal of pardon-by this, and this.'

Hush! do you hear nothing?'

Even so I feared-and-and-you-you

'Yes, my best, love, I hear the beatings of love him?' your fluttering heart.'

'But,' said the girl, turning fearfully round, do you see nothing?'

Belson rose from his knee, and gazed

I have a confession to make, and a boon round; in the deepening gloom of evening a

to beg.'

They both are granted, love, before they are heard.'

'I hope the first is not of evil omen, George-you remember the ring you gave me as the first pledge of love?'

"The ring and a dark shade crossed his am a poor nun of the Order of Charity, and brow-I remember it well' have business with this lady.'

'Perish the paltry bauble!' exclaimed he, 'that ring was never a favorite of mine; but you chose it because it bore the most trifling value: let me replace it with one more befitting the wearer; and yet I am angry with together.' you-why, dearest, will you venture this precious life, that is my all of happiness, in scenes of disease and squalid misery? I love your humanity and mercy-but why not send relief? This fairy form should never tread but in the courts of affluence and love.'

'What can be your reason for—' 'Answer me; as you value your honor, happiness, and peace, answer me.'

I do love him then-most fondly-most truly.'

And your family-your friends-do they know the character he bears?'

• Excuse me,' replied Euthanasia, with dignity: when I licensed you to speak to me on business, it was no permission to intrude upon my private feelings-I wish you good evening.'

'Yet stay, in mercy to yourself, and hear me. Look on me; I have worn this holy || habit fifteen years, and worn the altar-stones with kneeling; I have been by the deathbed, and wept in agony for the stilly peace of the departed; I am dying now, yet remorse dogs the footsteps of death; and the memory of broken oaths, violated duties, and foul misdeeds, will drown the hallelujahs of the sacred choir.'

Be calm, I implore you.'

Belson had seemed more daunted by the cold words of the nun, than could have been expected; and he replied, with effort, Lay This agony is for you; look on this face!' it then before me-we have no secrets-she dashed away the hood, and gazed up in Euthanasia's face with a look of the most Have you not?' asked she, thrillingly,- piercing anguish: see, it was once lovely, See it have you no private hope nor fear-no secret || flattered and admired, as your own. sin buried in the heart-no small still voice now, worn with sorrow, lined with care, of accusing conscience?-then are you indeed consuming with premature decay. Put your happy.' hand upon my heart—feel its faint beatings— soon it will be at rest, in solitude and shame, unwept and uncared for. Once it bounded with joy and hope; once it made the happiness of others' lives, and the rapture of its

The constraint was now felt powerfully by 'Oh! Belson, one kind word is worth both, and Euthanasia whispered an entreaty more, to a suffering heart, than all the gold to Belson to leave her alone with her strange of India. Leave me now; it is my hour to|| visitor.

Winfield's sudden appearance at midnight at ||world. He was facing the hill where his
the island grotto. Some friend had informed ancestors slumbered, an arrangement proba-
him of the exquisite skill of Indians in general, bly intentionally made. The beams of the
in cases of sickness; and he recollected to rising sun lay full in his painted face, and the
have seen Eagle-eye digging roots and gather-tuft of hair hung partly over the side of the
ing herbs in the time of spring. His daughter boat. Winfield looked upon the stern features
had been pronounced hopeless, and therefore of the fallen warrior, while a few silent tears
no great danger was to be apprehended from slid down the lashes of his eyes. He thought
the prescriptions the hunter might make. of his daughter who might have been in her
The reason of his adopting such a lonely hour grave-but yet she lived. The secret which
for his visit, was the repugnance the chief had conquered the consumption was never divulg-
always manifested to entering the village of ed by the hunter.
the pale faces.

breast, whining most piteously, and licking I LOVE to steal away from the busy scenes the face of his master with more than human of life, and pay a visit to the dark abode of fonduess. Eagle-eye had, from appear- the departed dead; the thoughtful melancholy ance, previous to death, possessed sufficient which it is so well calculated to inspire is strength to draw his light bark canoe from grateful, rather than disagreeable to my heart. the water, and place all his implements of It sends no thrilling dart through my soul to hunting within it, for he believed he should tread upon the green roof of that dark and It may be well to explain the cause of use them in the fair hunting-ground of another || lonely mansion, down to whose chambers I