The ladies' garland. [volume], February 16, 1828, Image 1

About The ladies' garland. [volume] (Harpers-Ferry, Va. [W. Va.]) 1824-1828

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VOL. HARPERS-?'EP.RY, VIRGINIA, rESKUAKY Id, 1828. NO. 36.
riBLlSIUM) KVEIIY S.VTPUDAT EYtMMt
ItY JOHN S. G \IJ
TKUMS.—One dollar anJ fifty cents per annum,
payable at the expiration of the lirst quarter, or
one dollar and twenty five cents, to be paid at the
tune of subscribing. Payment in advance, from
distant subscriber, who are not known lathe pub
lisher, wdi invariably be expected. Should pay
ment be deferred to the end uf the year, JJ will
he required.
VUE KEPOSITOSY.
I ll fa EFFKCT OF A SINOf.K FOL1.V.
A PRIZE TALE.
IS'J Miss f'.lhabith Bogart, of .Vt u' York.
[CONCLl'JPED.]
It was less than a year from the time of the
masquerade, that the public papers announced
the marriage of Col. Graham with the beautiful
and accomplished Caroline Wilton; and from
that hour the disappointed and disgusted Iran
uon foreswore all intercourse with the female
ses.
Graham had once been among the number of
his friends; but lie was the man, of all others,
whom lie would have warned her to avoid.—
Handsome and insinuating; in his manners, and
apparently all that was good and amiable, be
was, in reality, selfish, designing and tvranni
cal, ami altogether incapable of loving. Vani
ty was bis ruling passion—and vanity, once
gratified, becomes a cold and heartless feeling
tow ards its object.
Caroline bad lost her mother; and her father,
though indulgent, even to a fault, was a man of
business, and too much occupied with the affairs
of the world, to think much of those of the heart
He had been led to believe that Mr. I.andon
and his daughter had broken their engagement
to each other by mutual consent, and though
exceedingly mortified at so unexpected a termi
nation of the projected alliance, he said little on
the subject: and when Caroline assured him
that it was her choice to marry Col. Graham,
he kindly told her to consult her own happiness,
and act according to her wishes. He did not
live to witness the trials and vicissitudes of her
future life; and she rejoiced in the midst of her
sorrows, that he was spared the pang of know
ing that she had sealed her own misery, by her
hasty union.
1 he ttowers ot three summers had bloomed
and faded since the fatal barrier had been placed
between Landon and his love; and time had
worn out the first bitterness of feeling, and des
troyed much of his resentment towards Caro
line. He began to judge calmly and rationally
of the past, and acknowledge to his own heart
that he had been greatly to blame It was the
blii'd impetuosity of his own disposition which
had dictated his last words to her, and provoked
the proud reply, which had separated them fur
ever. He felt that he should not have utterly
forsaken her for a single fully. So young, so
beautiful, so full of joyous spirits, and so free
from the world's guile, how could he thus aban
don her ?
She had left her native [dace, and gone with
her husband he knew not w hither. I It* made no
inquiries concerning tier fate, and his fiicnds
never mentioned her name in his presence,—
Indeed, he kept up hut little intercourse with
those who knew him. He cither spent his time
in travelling, or secluded himself within his own
walls; and the once brilliant, fascinating and
elegant I.andon, seemed changed to the morose
and gloomy recluse.
He had been wandering through the country
during the summer months, impelled by a rest
less spirit that haunted him incessantly; and in
one of his excursions he missed his way, and
found himself, late in the evening, apparently
in an unfrequented place, and probably far from
any habitation: but after riding on rapidly for
half an hour, and suffering Iris horse to take his
own course, he discovered a light, and turned
toward it. As he approached, he found it came
from a small cottage surrounded with shruhbe
1
I
1
ry ; and dismounting, he walked slowly and
cautiously on. till within a few yards of the uin
dow whence it issued. It was a still evening,
in the month of June, and the moon was just
rising in a cloudless sky. r.andun stopped for
a moment, and contemplated the scene with an
indescribable feeling of melancholy, 'sudden
ly the sound of music came from 'he house,
lie listened. It was a low mournful voice, yet
sweet, and soft. The air was The k»st rose
of summer,” and awakened many painful asso
ciations in his mind. It was the last song that
Caroline had ever sung for him on that event
ful evening when a “ trifle 1'ght as air" had
made an everlasting breach between them. He
approached nearer, and distinctly heard the fol
lowing words:
’Tis the last blooming summer
These eyes shall behold—
Long, long ere another,
This heart shall be cold ;
Put ah ! its best feelings,
On earth have been chill’d,
And l grieve not, that shortly
Its pulse shall be still'd.
Alone and in sorrow,
Dark hours roll by,
Forsaken and friendless,
Why should 1 not die '
The turf will lie lightly
Above the lone spot,
Where the heart-broken stranger
Is laid and forgot,
With the lust stanza. the voire seemed to f;i!
ter, and lliere was a slight pause, apparently
froni uncontrollable feeling, in the concluding
line. Lamion stood as if chained to the ground
The image of Caroline flitted before Lis i in a gin
ation, as lie had last seen her in her innocence
and loveliness, and he could not divest himself
of the idtfsf that he had again heard the sweet
tones of her voice. Depp interest was mingled
with his curiosity to catch a glimp-c of the mu
sieian before lie applied for admittance, and he
was accidentally gratified. The curtain which
shaded the window was suddenly drawn aside,
as it to admit the air, and a youthful female,
dressed in LI ick, appeared to be Uic only inmate
of the apartment I anden w as concealed fiom
view by the shrubbery, and gazed with an in
tensity of feeling which absu:bed every thought.
The lady passed iirr hand to her forehead, and
walked from the casement, lie could not Lc
mistaken ; it w as surely the step, the figure of
Caroline Wilton—and ns she turned again, the
light fell full on her fare, and removed the least
shadow of doubt. Yes, it was indeed she—hut
oli! how changed from the blooming beauty of
other days. Consumption and sorrow were fast
performing theinwork of death—and her sung
seemed prnpheticvpf her eaily doom. rI be ro
ses had faded irnip her cheeks, and her eyes
had lost their onyc joyful expression ; but no
thing could dispel the charm which the soul oi
virtue and intelligence diffmed over her lonely
countenance.
I.andon rushed forward, and would have
forced himself into her presence—but, as lie
laid his hand on the latch of the door, the.
thought darted across hi> mind, ‘she is mar
r'.ed!’—and he turned hastily away. ‘ Ungrate
ful. misguided Caroline,’ said he to himself,
‘why hast thou again crossed my view? It if
not for me to sooth thy sorrows now—and the
husband thou hast chosen, where is he ?’
These thoughts nerved him to quit the spot,
and, discovering a beaten track, he pursued his
way, and soon found a shelter for ihc night —
The next morning he departed, without asking
a single question concerning the cottage or its
inhabitants: but the memory of that pale face
and wasted form haunted him wherever he
went.
Summer had glided away, and the falling
leaves of autumn cast a deeper gloom over his
mind. In the romance and eccentricity of bis
disposition, he had buried all his painful
thoughts and feelings in his own bosom; but
they became at length too bitter to be borne,
and he determined secretly to revisit the lonely
cottage.
Evening again cast her shadows on the sur