itloHtijorncrc Count]) Sentinel.
Ey M. Fields.
mmmm .
Is published every Saturday morning at One
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i • not marked upon them, they will be conti
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A liberal deduction will be made to those who
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Communications, the effect of which is
4 : promote private interests, aro matters of
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Jfcv ' Advertisements for Companies or Asso
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ble or otherwise, are in all cases to be paid for
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charged at the rate of fifty cents per square.
OFF? r E, in the house on the south-west
corner of the Square, lately' occupied by A\ m.
S a gw.
!>r. G. A. DYER,
OFFERS lIIS PROFESSIONAL SERVI
CES to the citizens of Montgomery county,
He may ’ found at his residence, about one
mile net 111-west of Gaithersburg.
*ep B—ts
i)r. £. It. Thompson,
n AYTNG located himself in Darnestown, j
offers Iris professional services to the citi-!
zens of t v ij tge and surrounding country,
lie may at all times he found at his office, next
roor to Mr. John Candler's store, except when
culled away professionally.
§ep ‘29 —tf
DAVID H. BOUIC,
DEALER IN ALI. HINDS OF
DRY GOODS, GROCERIES,
HARDWARE, QUEENSWARE,
ROOTS, SHOES, HATS, CAPS,
READY-MADE CLOTHING,
&c. &c. Ac.
llockviiit*, ITId.
f.xr He pledges himself that all articles enu
merated above, with a great many others, will
be sold as low, if not lower, than any other
store in Hit coumy or District,
jan IS —y
HICKMAN HOUSE,
Poolesville, Maryland.
THE undersigned resjxctfully informs His
friends and the public generally, that hr
hn U*,ified, for a term of years, the Hotel for
merly conducted by Richard P. Spates, Esq..
hi !' tolesvillc, Montgomery county, Md., where
lie is prepared to accommodate all who may
fa or him with a call. His house is large, with
ua-nv well ventilated chambers.
11 is TABLE will at all times be supplied with
the iM'st the market can afford ; and his BAH
always funiishcd with the choicest Liquors.
Trusty Hostlers always in attendance.
Terms—moderate.
WILLIAM T. HICKMAN.
Poolcsville, Md., Feb. 16, 1856.
t-d wm ipmm
THE subscriber, in rcturn
f-SBi ' * n E his grateful acknowledg- ]
t.. ‘iJjLEr m ,. n tg to liisfriends w ho have j
heretofore so liberally patronized him, would
reppffctfully announce to them and the citizens
of Montgomery county generally, that he still
continues to prosecute the HOUSE CARPEN
TERING and JOINING BUSINESS, in the
lewn of Rockville, and that he will he at all
times prepared to execute all work in his line of
business that may be intrusted to him, with
durability, neatness aud despatch.
lie will constantly keep on hand a supply of
suitableOokkin Material, and furnish Coffins'
of every description, and attend to interments
and all other business in his line, in any part
of the county, upon terms that cannot fail to
give satisfaction to all who may be pleased to
favor him with their custom.
New Shop, Court-house Square, one door
south of the office of Joint Brewer, Esq., where
lie will lie pleased to receive all orders in his
line. JAMES W. CAMPBELL,
aug 11—tf
CALVIN PAGE,
EAGLE WORKS,
South Street, Frederick, Md.
IS now prepared to fill all orders for Ma
chinery lor Flouring Mills, Factories, Saw
Miiis, Tanneries, etc., and would invite the in
spection of his assortment of Patterns, to w hich
recently large additions of the latest improve
ments have been made.
JBF* Printed Catalogues of which will be
furnished on application.
lie has also purchased the exclusive right to
make and sell Hulanf.z s Patent
JI V LL nr Nil.
Competent Millw rights and Millers, who have
civeu this article a critical examination are
‘unanimous iu opinion, that it is better adapted
for the* purpose intended, than any similar ar
ticle ever brought before the public.
\V ill aka*continue to manufacture
Agricultural Implements
of every di'wrriptiim, anil would .ode special
attention to IScaih'h Bust Sun and
GRAIN HEP All A TOR.
j, ; -imple in construction, yet invaluable to
Karmen for its p < 'rt’''< ,t adaptation to the
cleaning of Grain which it docs without a
Screen, entirely by Ida t. thereby saving "mail
hci ni ls of Wheat and other grain w hich would |
otherwise t r wasted. The simplicity and com
pactness of its structure precludes the danger
of its getting out of order.
He also Likes pleasure in emrnmmding to
the funning community, a new and improved
House Powrn, known as
“ PELTON'E TRIPLE GEAR."
This Power combines great strength, with
lightness of draught, is conveniently transport
ed Mid hitherto has given entire satisfaction
farmers and others in want of Agricultural
Implements will find at his Establishment
vvhYv article in their line, all of which will be
sold on pieusing terms, aud ttm|w guarantee.
out C —tf. .
Poctrn.
THE MISSING SHIP.
BY W. H. HOSMER.
No news from the missing ship !
With her precious freight of lives,
Though on the watch for tidings
Are husbands, lovers, wives!
The nation s mind is troubled
To learn this rtm iFs fate ;
Safe haven may she find, at last,
With her thrice-precious freight 1
The sea is a miglitv mistress
In this dread world of ours;
Roaring in Polar regions,
Or building coral bovvers.
Within her grand old chambers
What treasures lie concealed !
The conquering fleets of Carthage,
And hosts with spear and shield.
No news from the missing ship!
Ibis she struck on the frozen shores !
Or, by any iceburge shattered,
Sought port in the far Azores ?
Or anchorage, forever,
In ocean has she found—
Vast tomb, where Hope lies buried,
And Royalty discrown’d !
The winds we have questioned, often,
That landward wildly blow;
They only moan and whistle,
But say not yks, nor xo !
When will the missing steamer
Approach our coast again?
Give nnswoT, blast of midnight—•
Give answer, roaring main!
Prayers for her safety, nightly,
Rise from a million lips ;
A glimmering of hope remains
That should not know eclipse.
May the signal-gun give token
That she is under way,
With her precious freight of human lives,
And moving up the bay.
2Vn Instructive (Talc.
1.0 VF AA D SPITE;
OR, THE BURNT ROQUET.
“I can endure this state of things no
longer!” said Charles Glover to himself,
as he closed the door of his office behind
him, and proceeded np the street with
the firm step of one who has taken a de
cided resolution, and intends carrying it
speedily into effect.
The day was a lovely one, the streeti
were crowded with the gay and fashion
aide—hut Charles—intent upon his own
thoughts—scarcely saw the smiles and
hows with which many a blooming face
greeted him as he passed; and a short
walk brought him to the house it was
his object to reach.
“ Miss Ormsby is at home sir.” said
the servant; and in a moment Charles
entered the handsome drawing-room
where the beautiful Flora Ormsby was
engaged with some other morning visit
ors.
A casual observer could not have told, by
her reception of the gentleman, whether
his presence was acceptable or otherwise.
It was the quiet and well-bred—nothing
more—though Charles detected the slight
blush and the quickened breathing with
which she continued the conversation his
entrance had interrupted; and this more
than made amends to him for the very
small part he was called open to take in
it. He sat, therefore, little heeding the
commonplaces which were poured forth
thick and fast by the different members
of the circle, and gazing silently upon
the lovely face of the daughter of the
house, until the rest had paid their part
ing compliments, and the lovers—-for
such they were—were at last alone.
Rut it was not only to a lover’s eye
i that Flora Ormsby was beautiful. As
she stood in the centre of the room,
bowing to her departing guests, her toll
and commanding fVirtn reflected at full
length in the mirror behind her, and the
rich glow east by the crimson curtains
adding a still deeper hue to the brilliant
coloring on her check, her large dark
I eyes sparkling with animation, and her
lovely mouth wreathed with smiles, you
i could not wonder at the exclamation that
involuntarily broke from the lips of a
rival hell—addressed to one she was in
tent on captivating.
“Is she not a glorious creature?”
“ Yes,” was the answer; “a glorions
creature, indeed ! But too proud, too
imperious-looking for my ideas of female
loveliness; too much of the Juno about
her—eh, Miss Graham ?”
Rut we must return to the lovers, who.
by this time, were seated, sido fay side,
upon the sofa ; Flora’s face was still bright
with happiness—that of her lover’s
clouded with anxiety.
“ Flora,” he said “I have come to
make a last effort to induce you to con
sent that I slionld speak with your father.
I have yielded too long already to your
wishes, in keeping our engagement se
cret. It is equally repugnant to my
feelings and my principles to he acting
the part you impose upon me- that of a
clandestine lover, who can snatch hut a
stolen interview, and day after day is
obliged to behold the smiles that are his
only, lavished upon every one rather
than himself!”
“All, Charles, yon are jealons this
morning—l know you arc,” said Flora,
laughing, “and of such a person, too!
Only he quiet now, that is n good boy,
and I will promise not to flirt asain with
Mr. Roswell, for a month, at least!”—
j She added then, more gravely—“ Can’t
you see I only do it to throw—you know
whom—off his guard ?”
But I do not see the use ef h.ving
any subterfuge in such an nffair as this.
Why not let all be fair and opeu ? Your |
father surely can have no reasonahle ob
joetions to oor engagement! My family
is good—my character is unexception
able ; and, though not rich, 1 surely
have as fair prospects as most young
men ”
“ Charles, you do not know my fatber.
Hi* whole soul is set upon wealth, II is
ROCKVILLE, SATURDAY MORNING, MAY 3, 1856.
whole life lias been devoted to its pur
suit, and his whole heart is fixed upon
my marrying one as wealthy as himself.”
“ In other words, upon your marry
ing Mr. Boswell.” Flora was silent.—
“ And knowing this, you second his at
tentions, as you did last night,” said he,
gravely; “and if true to me, would wil
fully blight tiie happiness of another! —
Oh, Flora, you almost madden me.”
Flora chipped her hands, and laughed
heartily.
“ Oh, what an actor you would make
—playing the jealous lover to such per
fection. / blight Mr. Boswell’s happi
ness ! No, no, Charles, nis happiness
can only he blighted by setting fire to
his houses, devastating his farms, depre
ciating his stocks. You are indeed pay
ing me a compliment, in supposing that
J can work such a wonder as tlnit.”
“ Dear Flora, let us be serious.”—
And Charles took her hand, and, with
his whole soul beaming in his handsome
face, said, “Listen to me, my beloved.—
For the four months that have passed
since we plighted our faith, I have yield
ed implicitly to your will. With all my
reverence for truth, I have been acting
falsely—with all my abhorrence of deceit,
I have stooped to meanness and subter
fuge; and what is worse even than that,
have seen you debase your noble nature
by the same disguises. And to what
end? The truth must he told at last—
years must pass before I can hope for
wealth. Are we to go plunging deeper
and deeper into the tortuous paths we
are now treading—the great business of
our lives being to conceal the feelings in
which we glory, and to deceive those we
are most hound to honor ? T can scarce
ly look your parents in the face without
a feeling of conscious guilt, knowing as
I do that I have stolon their daughter’s
heart, while they still believe it free and
and unfettered. I can endure this state
no longer, and this day I have deter
mined I will tell your father all.”
“And without my consent?” said
Flora, her face flushing with indigna
tion.
“Nay, dearest, I hope with your free
consent and co-operation. Your father
loves you—and if you tell him, as you
have so often told me, Flora, that your
whole heart is mine, lie cannot bo so
cruel as to separate us.”
“ Rut he can—he will.”
“ What, then, is to he done ? Disgrace
ourselves by an elopement, without even
an effort to gain your father’s favor?—
Commence our wedded life by trampling
on onr highest duties? No, Flora—be
that far from either of us ! I have acted
weakly enough in this matter—but wick
edly I will not act.”
“ Trust, all to time and sccresy.” said
Flora.
“ Better trust all to time and truth,”
replied her lover. “Even supposing
yonr father to frown at first, he might he
gradually won over to look upon my suit
with favor. 1 cannot think so unworthi
ly either of him or myself as to suppose
that impossible.”
“ I assure you again it is impossible,
and insist upon your silence.”
“Insist, Flora! after I have told you
the misery it inflicts upon me?”
“ Yes, I insist on it,” said Flora, an
grily, “and did .you love me half as
much as you say, you would hear much
more for my sake. lam abetter judge
in this case than you can he, and no
power on earth will induce me to yield
my wishes to such ridiculous scruples.”
“Flora!” exclaimed her lover, in a
tone that might have softened a heart
less imperious than her own; “my ab
horrence of falsehood and deceit a rid
iculous scruple ? Oh, how I have mis
taken you 1”
“ We have each mistaken the other it
appears I” said the lady, haughtily ; “and
the sooner our mistakes are rectified, the
better for us both. lam no weak girl,
to he led wherever a hot-headed, domi
neering man chooses to take me; and
your affection is worth but little, if you
arc willing to sacrifice nothing to it.”
“ Oh, Flora ! I cannot sacrifice truth
and honor even for you. Blinded by my
j mad, iny idolatrous passion for you, I
1 have suffered it to lead me—”
“Nay,” interrupted Flora, now highly
irritated, “do not mock me with your
; professions of passion. Sincere affection
iis provcij by deeds—not by words. Say
1 rather, ‘I love you, hut I love my own
way better.’ Or, perhaps, you love still
better than all, the rich portion my father
will bestow on his obedient daughter;
1 and wTiutd scarce he content to marry
|me williout it! It is well I understand
; you at last.”
And the_proud beauty hurst into a
flood of angry tears.
“Do you really mean what you say,
Flora?” siiid her lover, pale with agita
tion. “Has it indeed come to this?—
1 >o you rcallyjdouht my affection—proved.
Heaven knows, by the most blind sub
mission that ever man paid to the ca
price of woman—and now believe me
mercenary ?”
Flora vouchsafed no reply; hut sat
sobbing in the corner of the sofa. Charles
rose and stood before her.
“ Unsay those cruel words! Do you
; believe m the heartless, mercenary be
ing yon describe? Must w indeed part.
. thus V”
| Still no answer; nnd Charles, after a
few more vain entreaties that she would
break her stubborn silence, departed
from the house.
A few moments afterwards Flora ran
up to her chamber, where she used such
successful efforts to remove the traces of
her tears, that by the time she was call
! <’d to join the family at dinner rbe was
as citim and cheerful ns though nothing
had occurred to agitate her.
Flora Ormsby was a spoiled beauty ;j
vain, passionate, nnd impatient of con-,
trol. Her mother, a weak woman, had I
indulged her to the utmost point to which I
her power of indulgence extended—but j
that power was a limited one. Mr. Ortus- j
bv, from whom his daughter inherited her ]
pride and wilfulness was absolute mas-!
ter in his own house, and nothing hut |
the most perfect subservience to his will I
could ensure domestic harmony. His j
wife, early taught the hard lesson of a
blind obedience, had in some degree in-1
demnified herself for this sacrifice of
what—let the champions of the sex say I
what they may—every woman dearly
loves, by striving to compass her ends
by the less honorable—hut in this ease
the most successful—means of cunning
and double dealing: nnd frequently—
while to the worthy husband all seemed j
smoothly sailing under his own guidance j
—his wife, by taking advantage of an
undcr-curreut, landing him exactly where
she wished. But it was only in small
matters that this was ventured upon.—
Mrs. Orinsby’s mind was a small one,
nnd in little triumphs her soul delighted.
Her daughter, with more intellect than
herself, a stronger will and more irrita
ble temper, worked with the same wea
pons most successfully upon both parents
—and had thus ensured to herself a lib
erty of action few would believe possess
ed by the daughter of the stern, un- !
compromising, and opinionated Mr. I
Ormsby.
Still Flora held her father greatly in I
awe. She knew that he loved her, hut
it was iu his own way; his love was not
in the least demonstrative, nor would it
lead him to sacrifice one cherished notion
|to her happiness. Rut lie was proud of
her—of her beauty, her talents—of the
admiration she excited—and lust though
i not least, of the prospect through her, 1
iof adding to the wealth it was the great
object of his life to amass for his descen
dants. Three other children—between
the eldest of whom and Flora there Was
a considerable difference in age—eon-;
fined Mrs. Ormsby a good deal to
nursery ; and Flora hud therefore been
able for several months to receive the
visits of her lover—to whom she had en
gaged herself during her absence from
parental surveillance—nt an hour when
she knew the -occupation of both would
prevent their observing upon their fre
quency.
Ever since this engagement had been
contracted, Charles Glover, to whom, as
we have seen, the very thought of pur
suing a devious path was abhorent, had
been urging upon the woman whose
beauty and apparent worth had gained
his warmest affections, the necessity of
revealing its existence to her parents.
; Rut this step Flora could not he induced
to take. She knew her father had sot
his heart upon a wealthier suitor ; she
knew, too, that this was a matter in
which her mother fully sympathized with
him—nnd even if she had not, it was
one in which she would not dare to op
pose his will; she had therefore drawn
tier lover on, day after day, hoping, as
she said, that something might turn up
that would be more favorable to his suit.
Wlmt this “something” was, Charles
vainly essayed to discover. With the
exception of a very small patrimony, he
was entirely dependent upon liis own
talents and industry for his support. He
j had no rich relations who could possibly
die and leave him a fortune, and he saw
no other end to his clandestine courtship
than in the open and manly avowal of
his wishes to Mr. Ormsby, whom he
knew to boa strictly honorable man, and
irne whose prejudices against him, if
such existed, might, he hoped, in time
be overcome.
In addition to his other trials, Charles
hud the almost nightly misery of behold
ing the object of his affections receiving
the devotion of others, while lie was pre
vented paying her more than the com
monest civilities; and while he—who,
though noble, was, like most strong
characters, rather impetuous—wasgiiash
, ing his teeth with jealousy, and suffering
I a species of martyrdom that, instead of
glory, brought humiliation as its reward,
she was really enjoying the adulation
that was offered her, and doing her best
| to attract it.
We can scarcely say to what Flora
looked forward as the termination of her
engagement. Klie had a vague idea that
she could in some way get round her
father—hut how she had scarcely thought.
Then, there was something so delightful
in carrying on a secret affair; indeed, a
clandestine marriage would not in any
I degree have disturbed her ideas of filial
duty; and the horror ex pressed by Charles ;
iat the thought of it hud been no slight
mortification to her vanity. She also
loved dearly to feel her power. To see
a strong inan restive under a galling chain
her will had imposed on him. was a real
satisfaction to her; and, fully determined
! always to govern him, she had no idea it
should he speedily relaxed. She there
fore had made up her mind tliut their
engagement should continue a secret one [
and, by obstinately adhering to her first
intention, hoped to reduce Charles to
obedience. There was. in consequence,
[ though much real anger at his opposi-!
tion toiler, some “method in her mad
ness;” she did not regret, their alterca
tion in the least, and, convinced thaf*the
! next day would bring him penitent to I
her feet, she gave herself np to her usual!
occupations and enjoyments.
But the next day passed, and the day
following—still Charles came not. Flora
: began to be a little uneasy. Oo the
third he passed her in the street with a
distant bow. lie looked wretchedly,
however—and this gave his haughty
mistress no slight satisfaction. Confi
dent in the power of her charms, she
had not tho least fear of losing him ; hut
that she should yield, Or make the small
est advance towards a reconciliation, was
unthought of. Though she had wounded
his feeling in tho point most, sensitive to
a lover and a man of honor, it was his
business to sue for pardon; and Flora
had iu her own mind determined upon
the time and place that was to witness
her triumph.
There was in a day or two to boa
large party at the hnuse of one of Charle’s
intimate friends. Though lie had not
appeared in company since theirquarrol,
t here he must certainly be; and Flora—
who really longed for a renewal of the
intercourse—looked forward to the party
with the greatest impatience.
A few hours before it. was time to
commence her toilet, she threw herself
on the sofa before the fire, in her cham
ber, nnd gave herself up to happy recol
lections of the past and hopes for tho fu
ture. The faeuutifiil dress in which she
was to appear was laid across the lied;
her maid had arranged on the dressing
table the flowers, laces, and jewels, that
were to adorn her hair, neck, and arms;
and the young beauty—even lovlier
than ever in her careless tlishtthille —had
thrown one fair hand across her brow,
and was occupied in weaving a golden
j web of future happiness in the busy
i loom of her own phantasy.
She thought of Charles—of the deep
and ardent passion with which she had
inspired him ; of tho noble, generous na
ture which must make the happiness of
all concerned with him; of his talents and
acquirements, that necessarily must work
their way to independence, if not wealth.
And, with a sigh over bis present pnv
! erty, and another over his strong solf
! will, she jumped over the difficulties in
their path, and pictured herself the pre
siding genius of his home—the wife that
shared his inmost thoughts and feelings
i—his comforter in the hour of sorrow,
1 and Iris sympathising friend in that of
j joy, until-toars of happiness bedewed her
chocks, nnd she felt that at that moment
she could sacrifice anything for his sake.
Just then the door opened, and her maid
ran in, breathless with delight.
“Oh, Miss Flora! The most mag
nificent bouquet! Not one like it in the
whole blessed winter! Eight camellias,
besides roses and minnyets ; and 1 don’t
! know what besides!”
And she laid the costly offering before
her happy mistress.
In an instant she deaided it came from
Charles; and, though much more gorge
ous and expensive than those he was in
> the habit of sending, she saw in this an
i indication of his anxiety to atone for the
offence he had given her. She was lost
! ill admiration of its beauty, and had just
j decided that one of the splendid white
' camellias might he withdrawn, without
injuring the symmetry of the arrange
ment, to adorn her dark hair, when, in a
moment of silence—during which she
was indulging in some very tender
I thoughts of the donor—the maid sud
denly exclaimed that she hail dropped
j the card the hoy had given ; and leaving
! the room, returned directly, and placed
| it in Flora’s hand, who read, “ For Miss
I Ormsby, with Mr. Roswell’s compli
ments.”
The revulsion of feeling was too great
for Flora’s temper. Her eyes flashed,
and, with an exclamation of deep disgust,
she flung both card and flowers into the
fire that was blazing before her. The
maid wrung her hands in despair, and
tried to save them from the flames; hut
Flora prevented her; and stood enjoying
their destruction, until they were entire
ly consumed. Soon afterwards she
commenced the labors of the toilet.
The maid sighed deeply, ns she placed
the artificial flowers in the hair that was
to have been adorned by the camellia ;
and, after she had arranged every
fold of her costly dress, nnd placed the
rich handkerchief and fan in Flora’s
hand, she ventured to sigh forth
“Now, if you had hut the flowers,
Miss Flora, you would be the completost
dressed lady there.”
“ I would not have carried them for
the world,” said Flora; and, with a tri
umphant glance at her beautiful face In
the mirror, she was soon in the carriage.
Her eye wandered restlessly round the
brilliant assembly ns she entered the
room on her father’s arm—hut no Charles
met her view. At last, after working
tier way through the folding doorway,
i she saw him standing in close convcrsa
, tion with a gentleman—so much cn
j grossed l>y it in fact, that it was some
time before lie perceived her; and then
he merely bowed, and continued his con
versation. Flora felt much provoked ;
and at that, moment Mr. Roswell joining
1 her, she bestowed on him one of her
most bewitching smiles said sho was
just beginning to think the party stupid,
hut would certainly find it pleasant now;
and, on his expressing some surprise at
not seeing the (lowers lie had sent her,
she regretted deeply she hail not re
ceived them, and suggested that they
had probably been left at another house
in mistake. Very soon after she allowed
Mr, Roswell to lead her to a seat in a
corner of the room, and to monopolise!
her conversation during the greater part
of the evening.
Three times in tho course of it her
eyo met Charle’s—but there was no 1
apparent jealousy in the glance ; his eye J
rested inquiringly upon her, and she at j
once coldly averted herj. A week be-
fore, how different it had been! How
sweet was even the momentary inter
change of sentiment,“hat a glanee con
veyed ! But, still determined that even
by a look she would not make the first
advance towards a reconciliation, she
only flirted more desperately with Mr.
Roswell than before, and had rarely ap
peared in more brilliant spirits.
Rut, oh ! tho storm that raged within
that fair and seemingly tranquil heart—
the storm of anger, of disapposntment,
of baffled hope ! Rut, amidst it all, she
preserved the same guy exterior; and
no being could guess that while she ex
changed a bright repartee with one, an
affectionate adieu witli another, and a
gentle reply to the soft speeches with
which Mr. Roswell was regaling her,
she was almost suffocated with the vio
lence of the feelings she so perfectly re
pressed. Rut when tho restraints of
society were removed—when,after throw
ing off In i- gay apparel, she dashed her
self on the bed in a paroxysm of indig
nation against him of whom a few hours
before she had thought so tenderly—all
her former love seemed turned to hatred
—and how to he most fearfully revenged
on him was her only thought.
* * * * * *
‘ ‘ Have you heard the nows, Charles ?”
said young Stanley, as he entered his
friend’s office, a few days after the inci
dents wo have related. “Flora Ormsby
is engaged to Mr. Roswell 1”
It ivas well that Charles was seated ill
eis large office chair, or he certainly
would have fallen. At length lie stam
mered forth—
I “Are you sure of this, Stanley?”
“Sure? Why. I heard it from Ros
well himself, inan! Never saw a fellow
so delighted ill my life. It is as fixed
as fate, and certainly no one can he sur
prised at it, after the way in which she
has received his attentions all the winter.
It is a capital match. She will do the
honors of his grand new house elegantly,
and there is no end to the parties she
will give—such a fine, dashing, spirited
creature as she is. But l see you are
hard at work ;” for Charles had again
bowed his head over the parchment with
which he had been occupied when Stan
ley entered—“mid I will not disturb
j you. 1 only looked iu to tell you the
news.”
And Charles wch left alone—alone
with his breaking heart—the beautiful
fabric of his once imagined happiness
shivered to atoms at Imh feet.
Could this indeed be true? Could
she, who hut little more than a week be
fore had been his plighted wife—whose
vows were still his, and from whom,
though for a while estranged, he had
never droamed of withdrawing his alle
giance—thus gave him up without a
single look endeavoring to recall him?
His first impulse was to rush to her—
to reproach her with cruelty, her treach
ery, and to let her witness the agony she
I had caused. But his pride—that pride
which in their last interview she had so
wounded, and which had determined
him, though suffering deeply under their
estrangement, to wait for some sign to
show that she regretted itulso—restrained
him, even in that moment of despera
tion, from such an outbreak.
Then emne the humbling question—
had she ever really loved him ? And
when the first hurst of anguish was over,
ami he was able to review the past more
calmly, lie began to doubt whether he
hud not from the first been the mere vic
tim of her coquetry; whether she had
not from the first been Hporting with his
affections, nml leading him to pour out
upon her the dearest feelings of his
heart, only for the pleasure of breaking
it nt last.
Ah Charles had been prevented from
revealing to any one his happiness, his
misery was now equally his own ; and,
carefully burying it within his bosom,
he soon re-appeared among his friends
a shade paler aud more serious than be
fore, hut outwardly exhibiting no traces
of disappointment. Thus Flora was de
prived of one great source of triumph ;
[nit though she saw him unsubdued, she
knew him too well to doubt that 1m suf
fered deeply—and this consciousness en
abled her still to act her part with
spirit.
In her acceptance of Mr Roswell,
who had addressed her when her anger
against Charles was at its height, her
first thought was the blow it would iu
fliet upon him ; hut the delight with ;
which he received her assent, the joy of I
her parents nt the match, and thespicn- •
did establishment that a marriage with i
him would secure, was not without its'
effect upon her. Roswell had
remarkably soft nnd insinuating manners,
and was really much in love with her,
she Imped to he able to govern him com
pletely ; sho therefore tried to forget
that he was neither young, handsome,
nor intrusting; and, pleased by the'
constalit flattery of her new admirer,
and his perfect submission to all her ea- ,
prices, and kept in constant whirl of ex
eilcinont fay the preparations that were;
rapidly making for her marriage, she
believed that her love for Charles was I
completely annihilated by his tuiscon- j
duet.
Rut Flora hail ventured on a danger
ous experiment. The wedding gaieties
were hardly over before she began to
discover that the quiet, obsequious Mr.
Ro well was not quite the submissive
husband she expected him to lie. It was
true he was never tired of admiring his '
youthful bride—hut he showed a strong !
disposition to monopoliso her soeiety
himself. He did not choose that sho I
should flirt aud dance with gay admirer ,
Volume!.—No. 39
us she had done in the days of her un
fettered girlhood, or that every evening
they hud no engagement out, she should
assemble round her a young and giddy
eirclo, instead of devoting her time to
him. And as sho from tho first showed
that his wishes did not influence hor con
duct iu tho least, ho soon found ways
anil means to reduce hor to obedience.
Their first serious quarrel—which oc
curred within two months after their
marriage—effectually proved who was to
be master. They had received au invi
tation which Mr. Roswell wished should
be declined. Ilia wife, after vainly en
deavoring to alter his determination,
quietly sent her acceptance, hoping some
lucky chance might take him out of tho
way on the appointed evening, when sho
could well bravo his displeasure, after
having enjoyed tho pleasure she coveted.
Contrary to her hopes, her husband re
mained at homo, and, after having pre
sided at the tea-table, she was just going
up to dress, when he inquired why sho
was leuving him.
“To dress for Mrs. Marsh's,” said
Flora, carelessly; “you need not go if
you do not want to; but us l have a par
ticular desire to be there, I shall go
alone.”
“ 1 thought I requested you to decline
that invitation?” replied her husband;
j ‘ ‘did you not understand me so ?”
“Oh, perfectly!" said Flora; “hut ns
T wished to go, 1 thought proper to ac
cept it.”
And, passing before her husband as
she spoke, sho rang for lights in her
dressing-room.
“There is no use of dressing, Flora.
You cannot go to this party !” .
“ Cannot!” she repeated; why, I pray
you ?”
“ Because I do net wish it 1 Is not
that a sufficient reason 1”
“By no means,” said Flora. “If
your wishes aro unreasonable, you surely
cannot expect a reasonable woman to
yield to them. I have promised to call
for Blanche and Lucy Jameson, a yd.
therefore I must go.” Aud with a smilo
of triumph she left the room. “ Tell
.Smith to have the earriago at the door
at nine,” sho said to a servant whom sho
met in tho entry, uiid then hurried up
stairs. t
When the toilet was completed, sho
again descended to the parlor, where her
husband was sitting rcuding the news
paper, and us he showed no signs of dis
pleasure in his face, she concluded ho
hud yielded, and therefore addressed hiux
as though nothing had happened.
“And you think I look well to-night ?”
she said, us he was assisting her to clasp
a bracelet on her arm.
“Charmingly, my love,” ho replied.
“I am much gratified by your appear
ance ; those garnets are exquisitely be
coming to your lovely neck.”
“ But I wonder the carriage docs not
cornel” said Flora. “ I Ordered it at
nine.”
“ The carriage?” exclaimed hor hus
band. " What oau you waut with tho
carriage ?”
“ Are you crazy, Mr. Boswell? Togo
to Mrs. Marsh's of course !”
“ 1 told you before, Flora, that you
were not to go there—so make yourself
comfortable, my love, and we will liavu
a pleasant evening together!”
In vain Flora stormed—in vain sho
essayed, finding the carriage was counter
manded, to set out on foot by herself.—•
The doors wore locked, and tho servants
deaf to her commands. In vaiu sho
I tried entreaties, reproaches, tears, and
finally hysterics. Mr. Boswell was
immoveable, and what is more, imper
turbable. lie sat reading his paper, aud
diil net seem to hear a word. At last
his wife threw herself upon a sofa, corn-
I pletely exhausted by the violence of hor
| passions, and wishing—oh, how bitterly
| —that she had never married him.
“ You see, my love,” he said, when
| all was quiet save a few hysterical sobs,
j “how needless it is to agitate yourstlf iu
I this manner. You have spoiled a very
pleasant evening, and gained nothing by
it but a very disfigured face.”
"Gruel man—l hale you!” exclaimed
the wife.
“ You will change your mind to-mor
row, my dear!” replied tho husband.—
“You hated me when you burned a bo
<|Uot I once sent you—and yet the next
day loved me weil enough to consent to
marry me. I understand the whole mat
| ter, perfectly, my lovo, and I hopo by
j this time you know that I am master
I here."
Rut wo need not follow Flora further
in her wedded career. It was in vain
she tried to circumvent her hus land by
her cunning, or to destroy his Isippincss
by her evil temper. He seemed armed
at all points in the most pcifcet panoply
of insensibility —not even a heel was
i vulnerable to Imr attacks She is, there
fore, her own tormentor, and by turns a
| victim to discontent, if> ennui, and to
morbid melancholy Her beauty is
gradually fading, and her interest inlifo
apparently gone She has, too, tho
misery of seeing Charles rising rapidly
in his profession, to which, after his cruel
disanpoitnioi nt, he devoted himself with
tenfold diligence; and recently, by his
marriage with a beautiful anil amiable
woman, proves how entirely sho is for
gotten Rut in the daily trials she has
to enooniiter, not the least is the self
reproach that fills her heart when she
remembers how wilfully she threw away
her own happiness, and how fatally—in
seeking to revemro her wounded pride
upon another—tho punishment has re
coiled upon herself.