M'arthur Democrat, 1855-06-01

wish to win be r for my wife; my age, my past relations with her seemed to make it a crime. Now I bare spoken; God knows, as ranch to save you from the disgrace you are to obstinately bent 0n meeting, and her from the poverty that would crush her youth, as to satis fy ruy own feelings. What she isto nie, words ranuot soy. How I will guard and love her, my life only could prove. Constance, what do you say?' He pain? I opposite me, and took my hand. I was like one in a dream. Lov! Marriage! Drought up as I had been, at home. I had speculated less on these points than most girls of my age. I had vague theories, indeed, gathered from poets and novelists; and my feelings for Mr. Lacy, a man of forty years of age, who had nursed me a an infant, an J whom I fFW!Trrvtth aTrnMIJriinited reverence as one of the best and wisest of the race, did not seem to correspond with them. 1 was unworthy of the hou hou-or - or hou-or incopabla of fulfilling ihe office of wife to such a man. Wife! it seemed almost blasphemous to mention the word to such a child as 1 was, and I shrank back from hi in lowords my father, my cheeks burning, und my eyes full of tears. 'You refuse me, Constance?' said he, 'I should be a villain to take advantage of my position, and urge you, Yet in my heart 1 believe I could nuke you hap happy; - py; happy; what would you have but youth that I could not give you? There are many chances against your ever being offered again a strong, hmiest, undivided heart like mine. No young mu could love as I do. Cuusluiice, what you mightbe to inei' The strange tone of passionate earn estness made my hen it beat thick. 1 glanced at my father. He was watchiug ine with intents anxiety; no need to question whut his wishes were. As for the meaning of this strange scene, 1 wanted no deUils; enough that some monetaiy crisi3 had conR, that threaten ed dUgruce aud ruin. I could avert it and how? By marrying one whoe af af-lection - lection af-lection miht have gratified the most ambitious heart ci.e of the noblest of men one I loved, though perhaps not as he lured ins. In llut hour of excilfl excilfl-in - in excilfl-in cut mill in my un disciplined mind, lit little - tle little wm I prepaied to weigh remote, pos pos-silnliiiei - silnliiiei pos-silnliiiei and ciiiiliughucies; besides, 1 was anient, excitable, opt to mistake impulse for sentiment, 'Constance, what you might be in uin!' wrought up on my sensibility; his expression of sub subdued - dued subdued e motion still further moved me! It never occurred to me to demand time for explanation and reflection. 1 fell coiistr jihed to answer h 1 in then and itiere. 'If I "ere less a child,' I said, blush blushing - ing blushing and ueuiblhig 'if I were more your equal' It us enough; he drew near and clas pe.l ute in his arm-1, 'Child!' he said, passionately, 'my love, niy wife!' Then releasing me and gazing aline seriously: 'You give your your-aelf - aelf your-aelf to mo willingly Mildred; but 1 will not bind yon. Six mou'.lis hence, I will give you luck your freedom, if you are not happy; and you will liud it hard to deceive a love like mine.' My father ruse and grasped his hand in silence, 'God bless you,' he said at length; 'I would have borne much to secuie a protector for my child. Leave us, Constant1, lo arrange some matters that cannot be deluxud even till the morning.' I w an eager to obey, and be alono to think; binlllefi the. room without a back wa rd gla nee. That half hour had revolutionized my whole being. 1 was a child no longer. I locked my bedroom door, to give way to all the tumultuous emotions of a woman, buec. lor as a wile engaged! I looked at myself in the glass, and won dered that a man like Mr. Lacy could love such a young, uninformed creature as I appeared. There was an incongru ity in it thai struck me painfully. Still, there was a distinction in big regard that flaltered me; 1 had a very high es esteem - teem esteem for him; 1 was warding off a calam calamity - ity calamity from in) father; 1 loved no one else; no doubt 1 should be very happy. 1 sat Jowr. on the edse of the bed, and leaned my lieaa littli ued lo ache with such grave matters of reflection upon my hand. Unaccustomed, lo dieam at that moment an in voluntary dream rose be before - fore before my imagination.' Instead of this stiange com, .act. the wooing of a youth- lul lover; instead of mere consent on uy part, tlie ueliciou3 hopes, the rich liuitiou of a conscious, active passion, might it not have been thus? If beau beauty - ty beauty won love, 1 was fair ecough; if fresh fresh-nesj - nesj fresh-nesj and stre'uglh of heart were needed, how mine throbbed under the ideal bliss! The sound of Mr. Lacy's voice recalled me lo a seuse of my duty to him; ii was w rong to dream ol ' such girlish possi possibilities - bilities possibilities uow. He tins going away, and my father lud uccomuanied him to the head of the staircase. 1 supiiosa he had asked him il he would not wih to bid me good night, lur I heard him uuswer 'Noj she would nol wish to be disturbed I (ear lo weary her-. Gad forgive me if 1 am acting a suilish paft!' 1. rusts up reso resolutely, - lutely, resolutely, no more such weakness us that of the last hour; he was worthy of a wo woman', - man', woman', love and honor, and I would give it. The next two mouths passed in a slate of tranquil hippiness. If manly devotion, il Hie most delicate and min ute attentions could nin a heart, mine would hate beeu won; and I thought it was, and reposed on the idea. ' Mr. Lacy made no .attempt to pretent my plunging iulolhe gay world, post postponed - poned postponed lor awhile by the late stranre ia- i incus. iiuw aim wie:i ne would go wnii me lo Dal I or opera, but it was in ine character ol protector or spectator, uot as participant; and 1 felt his pres presence - ence presence a restraint. ' 1 was by no meant a coquette; 1 Sliove tu bear always iu mind thtt 1 vs his iiffianced wife; but I was

only eighteen, ardent in temperament, with high animal spirits, very much' courted and acmiied, and I did enter wiih a keen zest into the pleasures of life, His grave unite, in the height of my enjoyment, used to fall like a weight on oi y heart. He himself, holding an important and influential position iu the world, wat full of earnest schemes of practical be benevolence, - nevolence, benevolence, of professional reform. He seemed to think, labor and write mainly with an eye to other men's interests, and those in their highest and widest bear bearings. - ings. bearings. He liked lo talk to me of these things, and excite my moral enthusiasm; and while I listeued he carried heart aud conviction with him, and I felt a call lo such co operation an honor, iu which sacrifice could Juva, qo, parlvJThca- bit took of intense affection and happiness, as he kissed the cheek to which his woras had brought so deep a glow, stir stirred - red stirred my soul, and left no doubt on my mind that I loved him, At the end of two months, Mr. Lacy left mo to attend a summons to his (aih er's death bed. He expressed no fears as to the result of this separation, tW 1 perceived a deep secret anxiety. 1 shared it. I had a morbid dread of the ell'kct of this absence. Don't leave me,' I cried, . clinging reeling to his arm. 'lam afraid of in , sell afraid of becoming unworthy of you.' 'How, Constance?' was his answer. If you mean you will forget me, or dis cover you are mistaken iu thinking you love ine, it will save ui boih a life long misery me.ul least, a life-long remorse.' For a week or two after he left me, 1 hardly went into society; but my faiber aud friends laughed at my playing the widow, aj they called it, mid 1 soon le le-suiued - suiued le-suiued my furuier gailies. with, however, a certain restraint and moderation which I felt due to Mr. Lacy. At length the temptation beset me of which 1 neeined to have had a vague presentment from the first evening ol Mr. L icy's offer, and il beset me under its must insidious form. My father's sister and nephew came to pay us u long talked of visit; aud even be lore they ar rited, 1 had begun to torture myself with doubts as to issues of this intercourse. As children, Frank Ingram aud I had spul half our lime together; and as children, hud pledged ourselves to each utner, five years had passed since we had met, for he had been studying med medicine - icine medicine abroad, but an unbroken, though scanty correspondence had been always kept up between the two families. Frank had been my ideil as a child. H 1 found him so still if 1 were to lov himl ii, when he came, he brought with him that future about which 1 had dreamed brought il iu vain. There. was some something - thing something morbid iu this state of mind! but ihe ideu had fastened upou me, and 1 could uol shake it off. My vety self- mistrust was a snore, My aunt and cousin duly arrived; and of Frank I must speak the truth, even if I u m accused of a wish to justify my myself. - self. myself. . Every charm a young man could hive, 1 think he possessed. 1 say noth nothing - ing nothing of his beauty, or his ingtnious gra ces of manner. 1 could have withstood these, though 1 -had a very keen appre ciatiou of them-. But he was full of disinterested ardor in his profession, as Mr. Lacy in his; had the same deepde sire tu be of use in his geneiation th same unsellisli plans anu aspirations; only he unfolded them with such a win winning - ning winning self mistrust, as if he doubted his worthiness fur the high vocation of be benevolence, - nevolence, benevolence, until he warmed into enthu enthusiasm; - siasm; enthusiasm; and then the passion of his speech, the very exiravigance of his youthlul hopes, thrilled me with power far be beyond - yond beyond the reasoned wisdom ot Mr. Lacy's enterprise. Oh, 1 longed to join hands n iih him in his life journey , and lend my aid lo the wording out of his Uto Utopia, - pia, Utopia, with a spontaneous fervor of desire never known before. Lesser thing lent their aid. ' He wa a fine musician, aud an enthusiast in ihe art: we practiced constantly togeth together. - er. together. He taught me how to play and sing the German compositions he hud intro- luce il to me. 1 do not wish to dwell on details; but who docs nol know how sui-ile a medium ol love a kindred pur suit and enjoyment of music is? and Mr. Lacy had never cared for music. Then, again, he was my perpetual com ijauinn: at breakfast, hi clear eyes and welcoming voice opened the day; mid alter its long hours of delightful inter course, his hand was the last 1 clasped at night. iNo attempt was made to put any restraint upon ibis dangerous com companionship. - panionship. companionship. My father looked upon us as brother and sister. Besides, the fact of uiy engagement was known, and he had the most implicit confidence in his nephew's honor. He never considered my danger, yet it wut the greater. He might b strong bul I was weak. In short 1 lovtd Frank. A letter announcing the probable day of Mr. Lacy's return roused ine to a con viction ul the truth, carried it up lo my room, locked the door and fell on my knees. What shuuld do? Should I keep my secret, and sin against rny own soul by marrying one did not love? Surely that were the worst. crime of the iwo. What vs left me, then, but to wound a noble heart, belie my promise, iuculpale my father? . t seemed a dread lul alternative. After hours of agon ised causuisiry, could uot decide, bul d Me r mined to leave Hie final issue to chance. . Did Frank love me? Strange that 1 took that fact for granted, tortur ing mrself with the idea of what he would culler he, with his youiig strong capacity for sorrow! This is not to be a long story, so I must nol stay to aualyse the state of my mind nuriug the inter val Ihtttlapted before Mr. Lacy's return A criminal awaiting a sura condemns lion, and thit approved by his own ach

... - - i nave never talked to you abu.it her, I could not trust myself with the subject while d doubt remained. Now. I will telPyou about my darling : she is as worthy of a true man's heart as Mr. Lacy is of yours. By the way, Con stance, I was very anxious about you , ... "e noin. 'or your man- ner was not not what, were I in his place, would have Mtisfied me; hit uirnv was me luriu a woman g caprice lakes with you. I have concluded. As for not loving him at bottom. I don't dare so to impugn my noble cuusin's heart and understanding.' frank talked ou long and earnestly- told me ihe story of his lore, read ms his letter j but I heard nothing distinct distinct-ly, - ly, distinct-ly, understood nothing fully. One fact fgtasped,' that he " Waf going' to leave' me to-morrow going to this darling of hisand that if 1 had a spark of digni dignity - ty dignity and womanly sense left, I must ex- cite it now. 1 don't know how I stood my mariyrdomj but J won its crown. Frank bade me good-bye wil'ioul sut sut-picionjof - picionjof sut-picionjof the the truth. .1 ran once more to the solitude of mv chamber. 1 felt abandoned nrostram. I flung myself on the bed in a transport of despair! Why., I had lost all I Had I been so criminal that my punishment was so heavy? 'Oh. Frank!' I rrin.l. how I have loved you what life miht hate been!' Then I reflected. If Mr. Lacy loved me as 1 loved my cousin, what a fine spirit and nature he had shown. what a lare gift such a' heart was, it was deeper misery to think I was the cause of his. I was very ill after these events, aud fears for my health quite absorbed any auger my lather migiii have fell at ihe disappointment of a cherished desire, or perhaps Mr. Lacy, by his representa representations, - tions, representations, had shielded me against it. When I recovered, people said 1 was very much altered; and so I was. The flush of youth was passed ; I was no: twenty, bul nothing of the childishness of a few munthsbank was left. Frank wag mar ried ; and Mr. Lacy we never saw, at least I never saw him. Disappointment had made. life an earnest thing lo me; and taught by its discipline, and charac character - ter character of my former lover rose in dignity in ray eyes. How was it that what 1 had thought would be a life-long regret my love for my cousin saemed a transient emo lion, of which the traces grew daily feebler. Had I sacrificed iny happiness to a passing laucy? Or was it that at iny age one cannot long cling to the im possible? Little signified tho seeming contrariety ot my lieutt, for the fact re mained il 1 never loved Mr, Lacy be before, - fore, before, I loved him now. thought per perpetually - petually perpetually of the incident of our brief en engagement - gagement engagement every word of endearment, every einorace, nan us noi.i upon my memory. I recalled his opiniops, frair. ing my own stringently by jhem, and followed his public career so far as 1 J3 able, aided by my deep knowledge of the high principles and motives that actuated it. The feeling grew in silence, till my former love lor Frank was but a child's dream in comparison. To heir Mr, Lacy's name mentioned in connection with something honorable, moved me with a strange passion of feeling and he had loved me '. Oh 1 did he love me vet ? Time passed, and I long resumed my former relations with society, and had met with successes enough to eraiifv my heart had vanity been my ruling passion, or could 1 nave adopted it in place of the one which was secretly snapping the fresh springs of life. Some limes the idea occured, that it might be possible, without, any compromise of womanly dignity, lo ascertain his feel ings for me, and if they remained un changed, to teach him the change in mine; and then 1 fell into that coloring ofa bright future, which seems to be the ordained aud Sisy pus-liuc penalty of the unhappy. My chance came at last. At a large dinner party 1 unexpected! v met Mr. Lacy. He came to meat once; spoke kindly and gently, as in long-past times, bul there was nothing to lead to the idea that he ettll loved me ; no hesita. lion in the well known voice, no latent tenderness in ihe searching eyes. 1 could uoi bear it, aud wished he would leave me lo mysell, and not torture me with that cruel friendship At my first opportunity, I turued fr im him, aud en gaged myself in conversation wiih geuileman who was well known to be one of my suitors. It appealed like co quelry, bul it was the eagerness of self mistrust, juai evening seemed very long and insupportably painful. Ihau uol known how tenaciously 1 had clung to hope until it had fa.led ma. When Mr. Lacy came forward to help me lo my carriage, I fell 1 could hardlf receive the ordinary civility from him without betraying myself. 1 was surprised alien he begged i.-.e lo turn into an emptv room, tliai we passed on our way lo the hall. 'Con stance,' he said, ! was going to ask you when we fust met to night, whether 1 might resume my old relations in your family. Nearly two years have passed since we last :nei. aud 1 thought 1 could bring you back ihe calm heart of a friend ; but you have so studiously shun ed ine, thtt to ask permission now seems superfluous, What am I lo think ? Have you not forgiveu me yet for the misery 1 cost, you V 1 was silent. If I could have fallen at his feel and sobbed out the truih, night have been blessed for life ; but that would have been loo great a sacri flee for even love to extract from woman's pride. 'If the deepest sympathy in your dis appointment could tntitle to the char acler of a frieud,' Mr. Lacy pursued 'you would give me yout hjtnd wilting ly. Pardon me, Coustance. for what may seem an allusion, but it it best to

lug conscience, would understand feelings. The evening came on which we ex pected him. Never had our drawiug- rooin worn a more happy, homelike char char-actef - actef char-actef My fthtr lead the newspaper at ease in hit ample chair, my handsome, IiveFy aunt perpetually luterruptinghim witWlrrelerant remarks. I sat near the tea tkble, for a certain hour had been fixe. f, and we wtiied for our guest be. fore Ate began our favorite meal. I had a book, to hide the changes of my coun tenance, nad 1 doubted my comia' love before, I should have doubted it no longer ; how earnestly and tearchingly he looked at me how grave and sad he appeated I THtrkuock came. It was natural 1 tUonli ttartj but itwts hard "to smile naturally at my aunt's pleasant railery. . Mr. Lacy came in. He was one whose self governed, serene manner precludes flatter or embarrassment in others. The gentle Iriendness of his greeting re as sured me lur the moment; under it 1 could .hardly imagine the strong, pas passionate - sionate passionate current to exist lliat sometimss broke its bounds. - Tho evening passed smoothly and pleasantly lo all externals. Mr. Lacv was very grave, but tiien it was to be expected of the sou who had just lefi his father's death-bed,' and aunt's ani ani-mated - mated ani-mated l-iigue lilled u; the intervals when couversBlion would have flagged. Frank and 1 sang together at iny lather's leijuesl. lor 1 feared lo appear unwilling; besides, il precluded the necessity of my exerting myself to talk. Frank was very rious, and, I thought, averse to singing with me, but at the same time he had never sung to greater advantage. The ordeal was over at last- Mr. Lacy louk his leave, without anything in his manner to make me fear, or hope lliat my secret was discovered. A week passed; he was constantly with us, showing me the same teuderness a 3 ever, somewhat graver, but certainly more gentle. He seemed, too, to make a point of seeking Frank's society, and spoke of him in high term to my father. Oil ! what a heavy heart I carried during that period. Looking in my glass 1 thought with wonder at the change six luouihs can work in mind and body. At iheeud of those seven days, I came to a resolution that nerved me with something like strength. I thought I would seek a Aired interview with Mr. Lacy, tell him the whole truth, and throw myself on his generosity. Let him bul release me from an engagement that became every hour more intolera intolerable - ble intolerable to 'contemplate, and I woiild con- ut ia . enter no other. ' Let him but free me, and I would Iitb unmarcird for everyea, though I must take labor and poverty as companions. It was the very evening of the day I had come to 'his decision, that Ichanc ed to meet Mr. Lacy ou the Etairs, at the hour of his usual arrival. Here was the desired opportunity, but I trembled to avail myself of it. He forestalled me. 'Give me a quarter of an hour alone, Constance, in the library,' said he. 'I have wished to have a few private wolds for days.' We went in ; he placed me in a chair near the fire, aud closed the door careful carefully, - ly, carefully, then came up to me; standing before me as he spoke : "This day six months ago, Constance, 1 made a promise I am going to redee.n, If you are not happy, 1 said, I will free you from the engagement you made to me. You are nol happy. 1 suspected ihe truth from your letters when awty aud I saw it confirmed the first liieht of my arrival. The expression of your face, the tone of your voice, when you spoke to your cousin, would have set the strongest doubts at rest, killed the most pertinacious hope.' He paused a mo moment, - ment, moment, md then went on as calmly as be before - fore before : '1 acquit you of all blame, Mil-1 dred ; it was 1 that acted the un worthy part, taking unmanly ad vantages of my power to help your father end your un untried - tried untried child's heart. If I were not now ihe only sufferer,'! could scarcely bear the retrospect ; but I am, thank God ! As for your father, our fears magnified his danger ; Ihe little help 1 was able to give, lias re-esiahlistied his position as iirmly as before. He will repay me ; you owe me nothing. 1 have had a wild dream, bul 1 am awake at last- awake enough to see that it was a fool's idea that a man like me could win a young girl's heart.' He was calm no longer ; but he turn ed abruptly, away o hide his emotion. Mr. Lacy, I cried, striving to stifle the conflict of my love, '1 would fain do right. I have a deep esteem for you 1- ' I broke off. 'Give me a little time,' I added, passionately renewing the effort; 1 shall conquer this love ol mine 1 will become worthy of you af after - ter after all!' Conquer the purest feelings of a wo woman's - man's woman's heart! Offer yourself a sacrifice to my felfishness ! No, no, Constance, yours is the teasun of blessedness--mine is already past. Presently I will come back to you iu my old character, and be able lo sty with less difficulty than I do to-night, 'God bless vou both.' 1 will kiss you for the last time.' He clasped me iu his arms, and kiss ed me, seemingly with more earnestness ihau passion, but it was the very depth of passion. As the door closed upon him a strong impulse seized me. 1 longed to call him back. Was it true 1 did uot love him ? 1 saw none of my family that even mg, lor I weuf at om.-e to my room. What a night of misery aud conflict 1 passed! - The next morning, Frank came to my private sitting room, aud knocked for admittance. He held a letter iu his band ; his fine eyes were suffused with happiness. 'Sympathise with me, Constance,' he said; I feel loo much to bear it alone. my !

This is the anniversary of an impor tanlday in my life. I will keep it by recording the events that led to my pres present - ent present position. Let not those stay to read whose hearts have grown too old to rt I -ih a love story. At eighteen, I was one of the most thoughtless human beings. My widow ed father, a rich merchant, had humored every whim from infancy, end aked nothing ol me in return but ligluheart ligluheart-edness - edness ligluheart-edness and u flection. No one could have known less than 1 of the shadows and t-orrow s of life, or lime been more ihiltt ihiltt-ihlily - ihlily ihiltt-ihlily occupied in the present. It was the nigh' of my (irsi ball, to which I was to be introduced under the most flat flat-lering - lering flat-lering auspices. 1 was half wild with vicitemenl, and the moment my toilet was couipluted.1 (lew dow u stairs to show myself to my father, who was not going nun me, ih i iim arrjiiiie I, being pre vented he sild, by sudtiPM Slid insiirmouii insiirmouii-l!'U - l!'U insiirmouii-l!'U fngn JPiucii If). Well 1 remember how iinpatieni'r I hurai upeu the din-lug-room door, and with whata bound fetation I spring Imv vr.l the spot where he stood, sptc.iding out my beau beau-liful - liful beau-liful drass, and making before him a sweeping courtesy. 1 seem to hour now the soft turtle of I h i e ami satin; to feel th glow that burned en my cheeks, and ihe quick throbbing of my happy heart. I had not at first nut'eed, in my e.rger ness, that the tabie waj covered with paper, and thai my father wu not alone. Mr. Laoy, barrister at law. his friend and mine furl had known him fiom my cradle sat opposite lo him, ai:d a sec second - ond second glance showed ma how giave and anxious were the faces of boili. Whi t is the mallei? ' 1 asked, lay. ing my hand caressingly on my father's shoulder. He looked at me fondly till I saw the tears brim his eyes. 'My darling!" he paid, in an abrupt pa$9ionate way. "We will not iell her, Lacy? It would be cruel. Let her have at least a few more happy hour; she need not know to night. How will she besr it?" Mr. Lacy looked increasingly grave 1 had become vert grave too; my child childish - ish childish excitement seemed to have given place to a sudden and almost womanly seriousness. 'Il is nonse hiding anything from me,' I said, trying to smile though I trem bled in vaue foreboding. l could nut go to the ball now; tell me what it is has happeued." The expression of my father's face deepened lo anguish; he put hit hands before it, as if the sight ol me was too painful too bear. 1 turned lo Mr. Lacy. "Do you tell me!' I implored. Mr Lacy fixed upou me the line searching eyes whose reproof hai( been the sorest penalty of m life hitherto, and kept up the scrutiny till I could bear it no longer, earnest anil kindly as it was. 1 knealt on a cushion before him. and leaning my arms or. bis knees in a favorite aliunde, I returned his gaze with a steady though tearful cue. "Try me,' I said; 'perhaps I am more than the giddy child jou think me. Be Besides, - sides, Besides, it cannot be so dreadful you are both alive and well!' A peculiar expression passed over Mr. Lacy's face. He seemed hesitating whether to draw me into bis arms, or push me from him; he did neither, bul roFe up suddenly, putting me gently back, aud look a lew turns ihrougii the room. Halfurd,' he said, presently, and iu agitated tones, 'once more 1 renew my offer. Of what like is wealth like mine to a lonely man? With the help 1 tan give, you may keep your credit, aud l'(easi this storm. You shrink from an obligation there is a chauie of your nev er being able to cauci'l'l Well I will change places w ith you. Give ine in return that is, if 1 can win he: to con content - tent content our nVjgl.tcr as my wife!' M) Uiher looked up w ith a literal Rasp o! asionisbment. Mr. Lacy went on with out beeping him, ! tm a fool, no doubi,' he said, 'but the time has long gone by when Mildred wag a child io me. Foi the last two rears, I hate fett from the i!plhi of my heart that the was wom woman; - an; woman; 1 have fought against the insane

'make it if there is any chancs of fu fu-for - for fu-for ure friendship between us. It wat j hard to give you up. harder stilUo feel (the sacrifice hud been in vain Hid asjyou bee,, happilr married, I could have 1 returned to you sooner; but suff-rin", laud to feel 1 had no power to soothe' This generosity was too much for ma. I rose up haouly from the seat 1 had taken. 'I cannot bear it,' I laid rashly; the past has beeu cruel enough, but this is wotst 'ban all. Oh! I am miserable! Frienjs we can nevei be ! let ma go horns !' 1 spoke with the fretfulnesi of a child; he looked amazed, Am I again deceived?' he asked. l was told that thegentlemiu I saw with you this evening, Mr. Branson, wat your cxepled lovtc--lknuw-riim well-ie deserves you, Constance. I rejoiced to see you bright aud auimtle I as you'used to be in society to think that there was no blight for you at last.- What can you mean? You will uot risk surely, the happiness of bjth? Pardon me,' ha added coloring, 'I forget that I have not even a friend's right to warn .' On the brink ol one's fa'.s, to dtliber ate is to lose all. i 'Mr. Branson is nothing to me,' I taid, white and trembling, 'and will never be more ; the past will notle: itself be soon torg jttun.' My tone seemed to x x-cite - cite x-cite him. 'Constance!' ho exclaimed, passion ately.-did you, then, love him to much? Ah! lud in i no teen the power!' He drew a long breaih, and fixed for a mo moment - ment moment a gtzt on my face that solved my lasi uouot, broke down the last barrier. I raiu has long been forgotten.' I said and instinciivel) held out my hand- that was a child's lovo. What 1 want of the future is. to be what the oast once piomised, Mr. Lacy,' ' l had stood erect, and ipoke audibly, up to this point j but here my head drooped, my cheeks burned, yet from no guoble shame. One quick clane of searching astonishment, one rapturous exclamation, and 1 was folded in hi arms. Constance, forgive my doubt. You have regretted, me you love me?' 'Ueyoud what you have asked,' I stam mered, hiding my face on his shoulder- beyond friendship. I feci I hare found my ark ol refuge.'

Soma statistical genius declares that 'more moniy is expended in the United slates lor cigars than tor all the com common - mon common schools in the Union.' A was:. who is undoubtedly a lover ol the'weed, seeing this statement going through the papers, gets off the following: It has been calculated that the cost ol washing linneti that might iust as well be worn two days longer amount to enough in this country to more than defray tiie expense of the American Board ot Foreign Missions. The expense of bottons worn on the backs of our coats, where they are of no earthly use, is equal to thej-jpirt of all our orphan asylums. 1 he value ul tails to dress coats (of no value in reality, for warmth or con convenience) - venience) convenience) is actually greater than the cost of our excellent sysiem of common schools. It has been estimited that thv value of old boots thrown aside, which might have been worn at least a day longer, is mors llian enough to buy a flannel nightgown for every baby in the land. Also that the cost of the extra inch on the tall shirt collars of our young men i3 equal to the su n necessary to put the Bible in the hands of every one of the Patagonian giants; and Iat but not least, the great amount of cotton that the lair sex use for artificial "tempta "temptation - tion "temptation balls," amounts to mora than would defray the expenses of building fifty cotton mills. '- ' ' , '

There's magic in a lady's foot. And well the ladies know it, And she who hnsa pretty one Is pretty sure to show it ; At times you, loo, are martyreJ by The nicest little ankle, T! at shoots an arrow thronj;h the eyes, Within the heart to jaukle. Of coursa you turn your gsze aside, And all your blushes stiile, For well you know she 's not aware Her skirts are raised a trifle ; Ami sho'd you think she might.perchance, Have on a loosened gaiter, Your fingers itch to play the part Of honest lady's waiter. Though tantalized till he Is crazed Stark mad with wild romancing, That witching lootaloiif; his brain A thousand waltzes dancing. ., The while it 'merely lightly pats, As thoughtlessly sha may more it it-No - No it-No modest man would dare to dream, There is a leg above it. But when it trips along the street, Through wind and mud and vp.por, By aheer accident you see How beautiful the taper; And as it steps upon the walk, Amidstthe crowd to mingle Two rougisheyes look up and say, 'I wonder if he's single?" Bit I would have no lady think 1 fancy h.:r a schemer. And beg her to remember Unit The poet is a dreamer, Ho sees whut others do not see, And seeks I'm hidden beauty No pretty faro can lura him lioiu The path of. moral duty. j