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lift V' Mm . i vV . ; .! ..'..im-wr.; . HW I I y.j.j,.!,,,,,,.-. ; V- -1 ;. r, li.'.nn r. ! -.T"i "-V.1 . .fj !. , ;;;11,50 ! E1Il A;N ;N:U,I .: . i IP PAID IN ADVANCE, . ... , ' i i i , ' ' . ' . 1 i -i : 1 ' : r-l r" T ' ' i ii ., . . ' JlAUAtf, .Editor; and Proprietor, . ' . ,1 .IN ; BEYOND THE OECHAED. t: .iii 1 1 f. -r. BY CURA AUOC8TA. '." . ." ' CHAPTER I. ' ' . (i? 1 ,!.; ,!:(.. T : i ' i- i.. , It wada March night wlien we parted, wiih llie dark clouds abtve,and llie cold, black shadows ell around us. ' i did not read the future second sight wasdenibd me but my eoul .was filled with direful forebodings. w.. Willis laughed at me when I shudder ed in his embrace, and called me a " fool ish lilllo thing," as ho kissed away the .damp dew of presentiment which hud gathered on my forehead. ... , , . i Willis Graves p.nd . 1 had been play mate from our infancy up the wild dells About Rock spring had echoed to our uni ted Voices, and alt the bird's nests which had from- year to year, made their ap pearance -in the old liedjes, had been .peeped jnto by two pairs of curious eyes, belonginglrespectively to Willis Graves .and I. .,We grew to early manhood and : womanhood with the same spirit of con fidence between, us, and the chihlUh af fection strengthened and: expanded until it becama ail Intense love. ' When Willis wai eightcenlnd ;1 two years younger, 'with the consent of our friends wo were ,-betr6ihd:": ' ''' 'AVillis lvad a strahgef, absorbing passfion for study i his mind was unsatisfied with ' common things, and he longed ardently to ''distinguish himself. But' his fudier 'was only a day laborer on' the estate of ' Col. Giles, n man of wealth ; arid Willis went to the district school, ll ere his un tiring iridutry conduced to success';' and -When 'Willis 4 was fifteen, he was' pnW. 'nounced by bis teacher' the best scholar there:"' -i I ' " '' " 4 By laboring foif Col Giles iii the sitrri rtier and fall, Will contrived' to scrape to "gether nieana sufficient; to 'support him ' through the winter and spring at White hall Academy; ' At the 'nge of nineteen 'lie entered collego, teaching in the inter "rrtediale school to defray : his expenses. That was a proud day for me the day ' of his admittance to those Halls sacred lu "the idol he wornhipped knowledge ! ' I 'remember Iio w I Wandered out into the ' sunshine and tHntight the trees had never looked so bright, or the blueiky Bo ' fair so'ninch like heaven's own' drapery. "And there Was a1 deep' psalm of praise ' welling tip from my heart, and joining the grand beautiful anthem which the su ai mer wind swept down from the grey 'rhotltitains J for I wai happy ! oh. so hap '"jkj ! f The life long :wisk of Willis was ' tp be graiified-'-'the barriers were re"moved, ' arid1 the broad field which surrounded the t'emple' of learnidg 'wailed hii .To'dt-''.lens.'"- ;-"-..,'' ,"'l did not kfibw ' then' how very dear ' Willis was to me ; a thousand times tince ' tava I realized alii ' f ' ' ! " During his Collegiate course he cfanie . ofleif to see usu," stopping' al the oTd red house in beyond the.or'diard, to kiss' the 'jpale.rjrtiyifed womari"who toiled here so ''atiently from 'Morning "till night; her lieari nor firigier's hever wearying, for the thoughts of her absent boy were to her rest and strength. . . . Those were eolden seasons Willis' jvipits-ahd t, simple thing, used to count the very hours which would elapse ere the' brown, curly' head J and , hazel eyes , would bring sunshine into the door. 'Willis prospered ; how fould it be oth 'ierwise wheo his whole soul was concen trateil upon the work? ' Willi 'the highest 1 r.i ... !'! 1 l. 1 .1.. ; i 1 .Honors oi ine university no grauuaieu, Jnd , atter receiving Lis clegree, came ome to spend a few weeks' previous to entering upon some business avocation Jiow we wandered, hanu in nauu, over . the' dear, familiar hills, and sal down to ..gether. bcneatli tfib crimson maples.' It , Avna'fale autumn then ;-butthe wild, hoi .low y inos sounded not sad in my car, for his voice 1roke that wierd chanting. What cared J that the cold dearth 61 No--Member was settling over the earth-was 'not my life path glowing imd liuhted by "iM'staroriovel''' "''''' a tti J By and by' tho first feathery 'sniw came, and still Willis limjorod, as if loath 11 id leave ui 'The charge Of the -village School via offered him he accepted: h, 'land taiightlill the latter part of i'ubruary 1 1 Wished the school m igh I " asl forever it would be so lonely when he whs gone ' Jbiiifc tlj'end ..cajine,: and Wi His aniionnced ..JiU intention of coiDg to the great town of t;lV;i.' some two. iuidred, uiilea distant vlo seek, lor .(employment : suitable tot bt ..acquirements. , ilis taste, his wish,, ,, he i faid,j was to become an artist ; he already jjiketjehed beautifully, and his drawings bad ; ta&en me prize. ai inei pniversiiy exniu. . lion. But Wilts said ie was poor, a and '"without money or an influential' patropj . ' it.'Would btl Useless for him to attempt io r. -' 'isarry; out his favorite projeet.Vnd sifter much atrurrfflinff with' bis lofty aspirations . ' he bad decided ' to come, down ' from bis . ' ideal greatness', down even to a ' humble ..'' yv ' , .' J ..;: i'.. :i (; Two days before thti time fixed on for Willis' depariure- for W he came running up the front path to our door, and sat down beside me on the portico. whither (he unusual severity of the wea ther Imd enticed me.; ' His countenance sparkled with joy, and he pressed my hand so tightly that he hurt me. :; ' " Dear, 'dearest Melicent !" he ex claimed, every feature radiant; "I have such glorious newsl Lie here on my shoulder, darling, while I tell you all about it," and he drew my head down on his bsom, and said. ''Oil, Italy 1 Italy ! land of the poet and painter ! mine eyes sfiall behold thee !"' - ' "Willis,"! said, impatiently, "why not (ell me what all this ectisy U about? Are you going rriad ?" ' He smiled at my uneasiness, kissed me tenderly, and then told mo the whole story, Awe?.llhy gentleman a strong friend of Willis' preceptor was going to sail hi the " bmtrald for Europe. He wished to find a young man . (il poor, it would be a recommendation) to go out as a companion a young man of education and good laste. The professor had men tioned Willis to his friend, an interview had taken place that very afternoon, and the result may be' guessed.. Willis was to sail in four days with Mr. Markley, to he absent an indefinite length of time --two years at the least.1 Wiliu'was de- ighted such a chance ! . Ii seemed as if the fabulous gardens of Uesperides were opening to his view. I sympathized with him, for I too admired Art, and grew en thusiastic over the theme of classic Italy. Hut afier the first tow moments I was md. Willis was going away would he retnrli ? Heaven only knew. . I crept ose up into his arms, and a great sob swelled in my throat. ' lie divined my feelings, and raising up my old face in Ins hands; lie kissed me a great many limes,, soothing, me all : the while' with bright hopes and sweet promises. ' Cheer up, Melly, darling ! two yeais, only two years, maybe ; only a little span of.. lime," You will, scarcely begin to ruiss me when I shall be back, to call you mine all mine ! Don't weep so madly, flielicent, il grieves me ! I wipod my eyes and tried to be cheer- fill, but the tears would come. Willis was all in nil to me.' . 1 , r '' ':.' CI1APTKB. Il The evening before the day appointed for the sailing of the Emeiald,'' Wilis came to sav lurewell. lie naked me to walk, and taking my hand we went out into the gathe.ing nigliulndows. 01. how dark and gloomy it was ! a dead March nighl cold ana black. We went over the frozen snows to Ruck Spring, but all was drear .there,, . . . , . ' , , Wp parted!.!, cold,, shuddering. and foreboding j:, he, striving hard to infuse some of his own hopeful spirit into my desponding soul : but ns well might tho sunshine havo ' striven w illumino the ilfiritlm nflliA pa vurn rnr.Ltt I ' - The ''Emerald" sailed.' A1 wild, wet weeping morning, and 1 stood upon the blue, bleak headlands above the harbor, and watched her until the while canvoss became a'inere snov flake upon the blue waste of waters. VVillis" wbtild write to' me'bften, very often, he said, perhaps by every mail; and oh, how anxiously I waited the arri val of the first Luropean packet 1 1 l passed much of my lime with Mis. Graves, for we both had a common treas ure upon' the broad ocean both felt .the same commingled hopes and misgivings. That was a pleasant collage, .in beyond the orchard, at all limes ; doubly so when the monarch apple trees were loaded .wiih pink streaked ,blossoms,.and . every west wind that blew,, cast corals and pearls from their bending boughs nil over the green grass which made a carpet around their giant trunks.-.; Mrs.. Graves was a calm, quiot ' woman, hiding beneath an unpretending exterior deep wells of feel. iug and fountains of . beautiful thoughts ; and with her I never fell, my absent Wil- liS. ' .; ; p' i '. . ( !.'; ;.:!' ; i My aunt and uncle " for I was an or phaii and lived with my mother's sister" often joked me about my paling cheeks and dcitcted arr, and my Irolicsome cou sin Ned delighted in leasing me about my "knight manl," as he called Willis, r At last the'firet letter front him tame Oh, how I treasured it 1 and read il over, and Over again; till every wefrd was gra ven opoii iny memory. " It ' was ' written On ahipboard, withiir two day's sail of Havre, arid informed me' of the writer's health' and .' happinessi -Dear -Willis I what tender, anxious inquiries he made of my health 'pursuits',' and ,8 thousand things.whiph drew tear's (o .my 'eyes. ! It seemed '.like"' seeing him,; mid ' I felt jiappier anu mora nopeiui for reading it a wo monins auerwaru mere, came another letter. He was "in Florence, in lbs ludio of a great artist. His prospects were cheeringi the renowned niastei had pronounced In in gifted in no ouinary u. gree(i .Mr4 Markley was indeed a friend iq him, ie wrote, and under his auspices, and through the influence of , -.bis tutoj", STEUJiEVILLE, OHIO, WEDNESDAY, APRIL 8, IS57. . '- V. ja-'f ' jsi..fJJ f-i I .V,.. M., : v., h f..i ..-T t :-.t J V i ;! he had been introduced into good society. Thoughts of his darlings at llock Spring had. kept his heart brave and strong ; and (hen there were many little tender things written, which were of no consequence to any but me. , , . . , 'A year passed away, and Willis' moth er sickened,, ' A short, violent illneHS, and With many tears we laid her. beneath the valley clods. Scarcely had I transmitted' the intelli gence to her son, ere Mr. Graves, worn down by grief and weary watching, followed her lo the silent chamber of death ! ' The -house beyond the orchard was shut up, and I took the key, .for Mr. Graves had given me the property, in trust, as the future wife of his son. I received one letter from Willis after informing him of this last blow, a letter so fraught with anguish that my eyes ran over with tears as I read. I was the only tie binding him to his native land, he said,' the only tie except those gnves. Poor, dear Willis ! He was prospering finely,, but a cloud rested on his lifo a cloud that my smile alone could dis sipate. t . . ' r ' CHAPTER III.' ; ' Veiy ofien I 'went down lo the old red house, and sat in the chair which had been Willis' when a child 5 but: in spite of all, 1 could only think of him with the most intense sorrow ! Why was it ? . I could not iell. . , , , Weeks rolled into months, . and ten months had passed since hearing from Willis. I had. written him the day after the receipt of his last leler, and expectod an immediate response. ,;A year and still no tidings. Fifieen months, , and , taking up a newspaper which had just anived from the city, I read, ; with feelings which those who have given their whole souls and been betray ed, can. imagine, the following announce ment . ,.,,, " " Married, at Florence, Italy, March 20lh, by Leon Gavzzie, Willis Graves, formerly of Rock Spring, R county N. Y ', and Mile. Corinne, only daughter of Francois Guillet, of Fontaiubleau, France." I sank down in a clmir, not weak and sobbing, but transformed, as it were into stone ! Hours passed, I was insensible to all passing objects. They called ; me to dinner, but I waved them away w ith impatience. , Oh, that bitter, dread awa kening ! Let me not dwell upon it. . This, then, was the reasoil of his long silence, his non attention to my last, long confiding letter written fifteen months be fore ! , lie had married, too, on tho anni versary of the very day he had last held me to his heart and called me his forever! pnst three years before. .. . . , Another year fled, and news of the glorious success of Willis Graves, reach ed usj Admired, flattered, feted, he was fast making his way to the highest pin nacle pt lame, bun later news ne .was coming Home.' My heart almost ceased pulsating, when lead the intelligence in one of the city paper?, and the accompanying remarks on the lame he bad won, A Iongjong tune I sat communing with my heart. From the struggle I arose compnritively - calm. My. strong will alone, kept me from sin king beneath their great affliction.. My relatives knew but little of my sufferings prido kept mo silent, and when ques tioned by any. one concerning Willis Graves, I maintained a cold, scornful, si- ence. 1 Hours and hours, when all were wrapped in sleep,, have I lain upon the damp turf beneath .the apple trees, and felt neither . cold nor chilliness. ' ' And he was coming to the red house beyond (he orchard I . Would his wife sit with hi in in the old place beneath the sweet apple tree ?. She lay in my place upon bis bosom why not T '. :.. . lie arrived in. New York. I read the notice wiih scarcely an .emotion And soon my Uncle-received, a letter' very brief, from Willis," saying we mightook For hira daily at Rock Spring '" ... 1 It was a cold, chilly' night in October, and I went late in .the ' gloaming, to take a sort of farewell of the old red honse, for when , he rame the key, must', be given into his keeping.' I 6tole noiseles sly along (0 the seat his hand had fash ioned" beneath the apple tree,' in those irblden days gopo bye. 'It was occupied! '. To Jute lo retreat I observed thio, and involuntarily I paused. The stiaiiger sal with his head buried 111 his nanus: anu his whole body quivered as with a strong emotion. The slight noise. 1 bad made in approaching, disturbed hirri. 'and he turned toward me. V Merciful heaven I A faint scream trembles on my lips, but I controlled, , myself, and ,1 returned his horrified ffaie. . proudly, defiantly! The Bli-anger was Willis Graves! '.Great God"., ha, exclaimed, passing .his handover his forhcad, as if lore-cal a sgattered , memory r' has the. grave eiven ud its dead J r - i Almost : unconsciously, as if impelled , oy an irresistible fascination, 1 approacn ed him and laid roy 'hand tfpon his shoulder. ' He shuddered, and from my touch. -' "Not dead to life," I said " but dead to happiness!" shrank slowly, ' He recoiled as though bitten by a vi per. His pale lace became even more corpse-like, and he cried, in a tone of wild wondering enlrenr.y, ' ' 'Melicent Uraham! are yon dead, or living?" I am Melicent Graham. " I replied calmly, " Do you wish to mock me f " A rapid change passed over his face. He caught me almost savagely to his breast. "Milly, M illy my own little lost darling! Oh it is indeed my Milly como back to me ?" and he passed his hand with the old caressing movement over my liair. Willi a powerful effort I released my self. 'Doubly a betrayer!" I said bitterly, go, lest I scorn you ! You whom I made my Idol ! Oh God ! that one so ttue in seeming should be in reality so base." He looked at me wiih an expression I shall never ' forel. so anguished and grieved. Oh, Milly ! oh Milly ! God help me! Listen to me, Melicenl, there is 8ome dreadful mistake in thisfor the love of heaven, hear me !" and he caught me forcibly by the arm as I turned away. He : attempted to seat me on the bench beside him, but I resisted.' Yet his touch thrilled me through, and woke all the old love smouldering within me. I stood up before him. "Pray proceed, Mr. Graves." A flush flitted over his face, he hesita ted, then, foil on his knees before me. HerC at your feet, : Melicent, let me confess ! Would to God, that I were ly ing at peace, y'ondei4 !" and he pointed to ihe white 'tablet which covered the clay of his" parents.'" " " ,'.;' I stood; outwardly quiot? .but, a very I'jiua ourni 111 my Drer.su wiui a ges tured despair, V1ll1s re commenced. I need not tell you, Mills' thai I did ove you. better than life, , that I do love ou . now married though I be better lhat aught else on earth ! Dj not frown and condemn me, Melicent, until you lave heard all. Then, as you hope for mercy hereafier, judge me not too harsh-' 11 left you and reached Italy the and of my life dreams. My glorious im aginings were realized. A land of beauty, poetry, aud art, opened to my enraptured vision I l became mi art student with rofessor It- . I made rapid advance ment and as the portcge of the wealthy Mr. Markley, and the pupil of the wor shipped R , I was admitted into the most fascinating society in the city.. But your blessed image, Milly, kepi me from admiring the many celebrated beauties who fluttered around me. I worshipped at n shrine too holy to admit another idol I received your letter telling me of .my mother s death, then the other bearing the dread intelligence of my desolate orphan age ! oh, how your words of consolation cheered me. I wrote lo you immediate- and after, wailing several months in vain . for your reply, I wrote again. No answer came.' , Again and again ;I wrote, but received no response, J had sealed myself to write for the sixth .time, when ,tiv shnre of the Upited Slates mail was brought tur me. I seatched for letters, but the band writing I wished was not there. 1 opened a JNewYoik paper, and strauge- y enough, the first paiagraph that nu t my eye was an anouncement pi ,your death. ., For weeks after, this I remember nothing they told me when, I recovered consciousnes tht I had lain at death's door lor nine weeks ill of the brain fe ver, and that only the most assiduous care had saved me. 1 regretted that u was thus ; why did they not let me die ? I asked, lliem again and again ;. it would havo been, better. Those around me smiled, as if thev thought me. even then deranged but God knows it was my airy- cere wish II found, on recovering, lhal I. had been removed from my lodgings to the private abode of Mons. .Gullet, a re. tired French officer, the husband of Mr Marclcy's only sister'; now dead. It was a long time, before they would allow me logo out, and in the interval,, was tended oy meir aaugnier corinne... , , ' . 1 1 1 . r " -Mr. Markley , strove to arouse me from the apathy into which I had fallen ; to inspire ma anew : with enthusiasm, of art ; but he might as well have talked to soulless marble ! f or months my lifa was one long revery, in which, 1, lived oyeral the past back even to my blissful man hood., when you were-mine,, all mine my little. Milly !",' .Mr. Graves paused and tears such as only a strong man ; can weep, burned through the fingers , which covered bis, face. ..In a few .minutes he conquered bis ernqtion,0 and ;cpntin utd. .Vly. : ,' , a... H.rUt t-t'e A it : !" Mr. Markley came to ' me one day wuh Sn" astounding . re volation I Corinne Guillet loved me !; 1 remember saying that I was" very sorry, and then relapsing into - my bitter revery. Mr.. .Markley aroused me -by entreating me to . marry her. .Surprised, shocked, and grieved beyond measure, I emphatically refused, and my excellent fiiend left me in dis pleasure. . ; . " ' Near the chateau of Mons. Guillet was a high bluff of rocks overhanging a a small inlet, and to these rocks I often weot. The deep, hoarse voice of the waters groaned in unison with my heart, nud the lough, bliick rocks were not blacker than ihe tempest which desola ted my -soul ! One night I went there as usual, but scarcely had I seated my self whenta light figure, draped in white, flitted past me with the speed of light ning, and in nn instant stood upon the very verge of the precipice ! Poised 011 tho extreme edge of a frail shelf of rock which overhnng the frightlul deep many fathoms below, she stood her exquisite profile carved white as snow against the black fky, and her hands raised in mute supplication ! She was praying. I heard my name upon l.er lips, coupled with ex pressions of the most passionate entreaty. Il was Corrinne. I recalled the weary days and nights when she haiMiovered over my sick couch like a ministering an gel, her unremitting endeavors to make the tedious hours pass pleasantly-the sad, patient look graven ever on her beautiful features and J said to myself why not make her happy ? Il could not make me more miserable 1 ' 1 sprang to ward her and drew her back. " Corinne," 1 said, " are you willing to give up friends, home, everything, and go with me V ''She turned towards me, her face glowing with inexpressible love,' and re plied, ' : ' ; To the uttermost parts of the earth !" This was our singular betrothal. In two months we were married. My wife is good and beautiful, and loves me passionately. She came here to my coun try, without a backward look of regret. I could ' not bting licr here, Milly, ' here where-everything would speak of you, Milly, l believed you dead, and came liere this night to find your grave. ' And your wile'" I asked, when he had finished. ' Is in New York with her uncle Mark-. ley. I turned to go away. " Mr. Graves," said, handing him the key of the red house, "your parents gave me this un til you should return. Everything is as they left il ; and one thing more, Willis ; by llie memory of our early love, be kind be gontle; to that devoted girl who has forsaken all for you !" He threw himself in my path. " Oh Milly my fust, my only love I you shall not leave mo ! Great God! my brain will bursl !" -. 1 " . - : 1 " Willis," I said very calmly, this is unworthy of you 5 it is weak nay criminal. I will hear no more of it! Good night, Mr. Graves,"' and I tore myself from the arms that would have held me.- :s- ,' '"' ' ' ' ' CHAPTER IV. Willis Graves called at our house du ring the week, and I met him in tho pres ence of ihe family. Both of us were very1 calm and ceremonious, , and after iiis departure, uncle remarked,' No one would have dreamed of your , old love, Milly, to see you together now." . Mr. Graves settled in New York, and through the newspapers I heard much of bis success in his art. , Years flew by, and his fame spread far and wide. , I was still unmarried : manv flattering oilers had 1 received, but declined all. 1 was thirty years bld when my kind uncle died. , it was a severe stroke to my aunt and it fell riol lightly upon mo. ',' tour years more and my aunt slept in the church-yard. I was lefi alone at the pld place, for. cousin Ned- had married three years , before, and was in business in the city. .; Uncle Graham s will left me oiu house and 1U uppurtenances 10 me ; and immediately on the death of rav aunt, I leased the farm and a portion of the house to a worthy man, who, with his wife, took' up his residence there. 1 lived a lonely dreamy life, fed and. sus tained .by1 memories of the past. . , ' ''' Une rooming late in the month of May, a letter was brought to me,' post-marked NewYoik. The handwriting paratyzod me for a moment, and then my pride came to - Bay aid. ' I broke the ' seal anil ; -.v. r .1 . .... .5 ' ' . ' ".My dear " friend Melicent Presu ming On' our, old friendship, am. I about to ask too much ? My 1 wife is'declining, tne pnysicians say only , country air and exercise can restore bcr j may I bring her to Rock Spring,', to j our quiet home ? '' It is just the blessed place she Will love; and it will make me, happier If you consent,-, , Willis CJraves. .', jtfqt an instanj did hesitate.' took up a pen and .wrote, Come immediate' ly," and despatched it to ihe post office By the next morning my preparations for my guests were finished. I felt a melan- oholly pleasure in making all thinira look beautiful for, the eye of the poor, invalid, for was she not Williu' w;fe ? ',... j Two' days aftarward, a carriage drove to my doorf I went forth to meet Ihem. Oh !. how pale and beautiful she-: was ; SI N 'S but so' very fragile, that 1 involuntarily, extended my amis and lifted her from the carriage. ,''.: ' ' ; . Willis pressed my hand, but neither J spoke. ' , How delighted Corinne' was with ev erything. Again and again she thanked me for the kind care I had laken for her com fori; and then like a wearied child she laid her head on Willis' bosom and fell into a gentle slumber. '" 1 Days passed. Corrinne seemed to re vive. Willis watched over her very ten derly, and 1 loved . her from the very depths of my heart, she was so beautiful, so good and so winning. . With the cold autumn winds Corrinno grew weaker,' although we scarcely per ceived it; and when gorgeous October came with its yellow and crimson, foliage she was confined to her bed. In vain ihe skill of Ihe most experienced physicians. In vain all lender watcbipgs. Une mid-, night we stood around her dying bed. " Willis," she said, opening her . eyes from a long swoon, ' you must love and care for. dear Milly verylenderly for my snke, Willis. Put your , hand in Ins, Milly, I want to bless you both before my iips are sealed ! You will love Will is when I am ' gone, won't you " dear friend ? ' It would bo very sad to be left in the world with no one to love yon," she murmured, in a sweet, dreamy tone. ; tie down close beside me, Willis I am '. sd cold I . W lure have you gone Milly? 'I cannot ar-e you for the mists- and darkness Willis one more kiss the last! God bless you !" -, Corrinne lay very white and still, and we knew lhal she was dead. , . -' We buried her beside Willis' parents, and two days after her funeral, the berea ved husband wrung my hand and bade me farewell. I saw him no more until winter. 1 lit the cold January days he came to Rock Spring a pale bowed man, with silvgr hairs threading (he brown locks upon his forehead. . Those wen very quiet evenings which we passed to gether, speaking never of llie past, but of I the world beyond the stars. In March Willis went back to the city, and I was very, Very, sad after his depar- lu:e. I was an old . woman. My youth ful beauty had fled tho blooming mai dr.n was transformed into llie homely spinster of thiiiy seven .but my heart was young as when I had stood beneath the apple bough and made chains of dan delion stems to wreath Ihe brow of my poy playmatel' 1 1 With the first arbutus flowers Wilus came back lo me. we took all ihe old walks together, and returning sat down in the old seat under the sweet apple tree. We were very still, but not wnh suffer ing. Willis .took my hand silently. , . 44 II was her wish," he said softly, 11 thnt T sliAuM Iavp nni I im ra ' fi r vnti Milly 5 how can I do so better than by a legal right t Will you after all that you have endured for my sake give me lhal right ?" . . -. I laid my head in his bosom ; his arms fell around me, and 1 felt no more the burden of heaviness. A beautiful villa rises in front of the old red house, and we live there in a sort of blissful dream Willis and I and the apple trees almost meet above the1 old house, where we go often in "the serene twilight to talk of the blessed life God has at last given us. - We are old now, but we know that there is a place awaiting us where the mantle of eternal youth shall fall upon us, and the fulness pf joy shall be ours forever more I i . ... i . , , , The Hunchback Lover: , ! ' ' The following is an extraordinary ad venture of these latter days : "A worthy man, who with his family resides in the Rue de la Michodieie, re ceived "a .letter from his nephew, who was at that time" a trader at Uyder-Abad. The letter terminates thus : ' "" 1 i, have received the portraits of my cousins Mary and tMargaret, whom I have never had the pleasure of seeing, having been sinco my miancy, a resident at Uyder-Abad I shall anive at Havre in the brig Quos Ego, about the 1st of October, and with your consent, shall marry, my. beautiful oousin Mar- -, Tho remainder of the name having been written under the seal, had been torn on and destroyed in opomng the letter, so that it was impossible lo ascertain whe ther the nephew had chosen Mary or Margaret.,',:'--. ..; v.- " ':;,--;';. f ,i'A mutuul coldness and jealousy now sprving tip between, the sisters, who' had hitherto lived in the. most atlectionaie harmony.,., Eaoh believed that hers was the name mentioned in tbe letter.; ... ... ' . Vainly; did the father employ all, his -eloquence to reconcile his daughters. At length , courier, arrived from Havre and announced that his master would be in Paris next da , The servant was over whelmed with questions, to which he re plied that his master had been ruined, and that he was afSictcd with a protuberance on his left shoulder, Bimilar to that which had caused U the misfortunes, of yEsop, tho Pbyrgian:, n ,. v -a G.L E COP IE . FI V E CENTS .-'''" i' VOLUME 3, -14, Hoih sisters vowed that they would re main maids forever, rather ihan wed' a hunchback and pennyless cousin. ! K The cousin arrived. Ihe latner em braced him cordially, the daughters cour tesied prettily and turned away ' their eye8-, : .... ,(v ' ' The father explained the accident that had befallen the letter, and enquired of the nephew the object of his choice. ' 44 My ' cousin Mary," answered' the nephew, , , ' .. i. r '..;' Never, never!" exclaimed Mary ; 1 am satisfied with my condition, and shall not change it. , . .., j . 44 Mademoiselle," said the nephew, iii have adopted the habits of my country el which I am all but a ; native. - See'the manntfrs and customs in Hyder Ababi by Taverner,' and you will see in that country when a young mnn'e proposals of marriage has been rrj.ected, he with draws himself from society as a useless member aud -. . - -. -. . - i i .i .i . Kills iiimnn 1 1 : exc aunea me oilier sisterthe good hearted Margaret.' ' " Kills himself," ans wered the nephevr in a tone of a. mam about to commit n icide. ' i!'.--: . '''.' ;.' j 44 M-y poor cousin," murmured' Rfarga ret wiih tears in her eyes. , "He. has come so far to meet death in the bosom of. his family." 1 ': '" J ' UL know, -continuerl the nephew, 44 ihat my deformity i offensive in the eye of woman ; but tirao , can" accustom even the eye tf woman1 to ugliness. ,1 am also aware that my position as a mer chant is' not the best." .'1'.'7i 44 Engaged front early youth in the, di amond trade the only trad cairied on Hyder-Abab I have lost all my faiher'a- froperty, but I have gained experience' am young,' active and industrious ' theso qualities are riches in themselves,' " Yes,. : yes hunchbacV, and penny legp," murmured Mary, , in . a mookingf aside. . Z' .' "';.., tl ' PboF young' man," said Margaret, and then added ''I aUo have been re fused, cousin, but you don't seem to 'mind, that.",. , s . . ;,.,;.,!., : ,, 44 Refaaed ! and by whom?," asked the" cousin.. , ' , (, ,' ' ' . v ' r ' 44 Why, by yourself, In preferring my sister lsme."" -'-:, ' '! ' -'-' " Well!" replied ihe cousiri, vhat will you say if 1 ask your father for you." ,.4 1 shall entreat my father to let ray cousin live.1" , ' . , ."' 1 ' " 41 What t you consent my pretty Mar garet," exclaimed the hunchback'. ! V: , To . save ,a relation's life, I cannot hesitate a moment.'V ..; ; .. . ,, 4 Very good, my daughter,'! said the father touched by this scene. I perceive that romances have not spoiled you,'1' I have a very limited income, but 1 canno.t forsake a brother's son in his distress.' I shall keep him here as my son-in-law. If there is enough for three, there ; is enough for four." .'.' '"' ; '' " !? , ? '.- ; . The cousin threw himself at Mirgaret's fet exclaiming, " You have saved, me from despair and death 1" ) ; ; . ' r Margaret extended her hand to raise -her cousin ; both drew back nlitife,' when Mary uttered these unfeeling words; . My fisier has courage I as for me,! I would leave all the poor hunchback, cou sins in the world lo die." . . '''' Uncle," Said the nephew,'' 4'wuli your permission I shall retire to arrange my toilette a little before breakfast. -'-.. j He kissed Margaret s . hand and bowed to Mary, and withdrew to change his tra velling dress. ' '. . '!'. . '' The uncle and his two daughters bu- eed themselves at the table, aud 'waited for their guest,, who was soon annouaced by the servant. . V.r Both sisters uttered a cry of surprise but in different keys. They beheld ft charming 'young gentleman of slender and symmetrical form (no hunch) "enter the room." He advanced and embraced Margaret. - Placing before her t beautiful basket, he said; , , . ,. , .,v . . k M There is your.dower.,r fV' ' The basket was filled with diamonds ! 1., !' i.l-''.l '..' I! .1. 1..'- 'J.ii 4 ii is aiso iiieuuncii inai uas ueceivcu the custom bouse ofikers,' and arrived Innrn frpn of ilntv..-.'Tliia added. tha nek phew, is what I have carried on my shoul-' ders from Bombay to Havre, for the pur pose of offering it to the fair cousin who would be willing to accept me with my pretended poverty 'add deformity ."'' . .. This ecclairissment occasioned general joyj which, was even shared by Mary !- True it is, that Mary loved her sister without haling the diameuds. ... A Clever Child " Is t true maroi mt' Juquirod a little girl, " that a Qua. ker neyer takes his hat off?"': 44 It is true my dear," answered the fond moth er ; " It is a mark of respect which he thinks he should pay to no man." - "Dut then tell me. mamma," answered the clo ver child,. V. how does a Quaker muu.ige when he goes to have his hair cut ?" , !' The' obligations nra ' owe to pr:r.ii, form a running account, which is paid la ilw next' generation. Old raaiJs and bid elori, of course, ia doubi. .