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flHRms 11 lewis grist, Proprietor. J ^tt Jnhtpcniifttt Jfamilg fWnspper: ^itrr Ijwinoirim flf % Jjalitiral; Social, ^gritnltaral anb Commercial interests trf f[jc Smtf|. | terms?$3.00 a year, in advance. - 1 II I ??????? I ???????? ?^ VOL. 17. YORKVILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, OCTOBER 19, 1871. NO. 42. J * jto #ri?i?ai fmc Jtotg.; ~^ - ] Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. j aaaaiici.' A TALE OF BEFORE THE WAR. 1 1 , t BY ALICE ARNOLD. C CHAPTER XV. F The third week in January, Mrs. Velmonte t returned to "Woodstock. She had a great S deal to do now, for the baby proved to be s a very exacting little personage, and very ca- a pricious, too, about his sleeping arrangements. & Many a night, after not having had a single chance to write all day, while she was trying to make up the deficiency, she was obliged to I P throw down her pen and rush out of the dressing room, summoned thence by overpower- 0 ing strains, which proceeded from his infantile ' ? - lungs, and walk him up and down the floor* until she was ready to drop from exhaustion, i Then, and not till then, the young Radetzky j consented to retire into dreamland. I _ . . x i i i i ii A i m rvose went, 10 cnurcn dui once mat winter, ~ and that was on the occasion of the baby's * baptism, when he was about six weeks old. They went early, and sat with Mrs. Fielding, w who was to stand as sponsor for Louis, junior; and soon after the service began, a grand * party from Witherton hall swept into the w little chapel. ? Miss Witherton, herself, wore a riding habit of dark blue cloth, with a bird of Paradise ro in her hat; and carrying a gold-headed whip in her gauntleted hand, looked extremely to stylish. 86 Claudia Velmonte was magnificent in her & blue-black habit; and the other young ladies in of the set, some of whom wore riding and a others driving dresses, seemed to vie with each 0 other as to who could make the most commotion and attract most attention. Among them, gentle Mrs. Velmonte, who was acting 3fc( as chaperon, seemed like a pearl in the midst a? t of bright, flashing rubies; and the young . men, of whom there was a perfect shoal, ap- 1Di peared to feel for her an equal degree of admiration with her daughter. P1' Rose was looking very lovely that day. The cold air had imparted a rich color to her cheeks, and her beauty was softened and re- ^ | fined by the black: velvet basque which fitted exquisitely over her rich black moire antique. ,ai She wore her Russia sables, and her hair was co' most becomingly arranged beneath an elegant Prl little black velvet hat with ostrich feathers. ^ When Miss Witherton caught sight of her an she blandly smiled her recognition; but Claudia Velmonte stared most superciliously, first at her brother, then at his wife; and during ^ the baptismal service which took place, accor- no: ding to the rubric, after the second lesson, she an' not once stood up or opened her book, while ^0I H her mother's soft eyes were moist with feeling. Hi After service Mis^~ Witherton went up to I A?r HBbpeak to Rose, and expressed mat surprise | pic I to eofi you in L this ^winter," she J HH^id. "Surely you will come to town for the m*' I "I think not," Rose answered; "the -baby th( Hj is yet too young for me to leave bim any *"?r ' Oh! a thousand pardons 1 I had quite for- str f ' gotten him." And promising to call very Pr< I w soon, Linda swept away and rejoined her , party. /- jjf? "Is that Louis Velmonte's wife?" asked a Wj IyouDggentwithvery white teeth and very, tight boots, as he assisted the heiress to her saddle." She is certainly very handsome, and I understand was the belle of the water- di< ing places, last summer. Why does he keep A? her shut up in the country?" he "Can't say, really," replied Linda, taking cb her whip from him. "I believe papa was not propitious in this affair ; and, indeed, though ro a pretty creature, she's a mere nobody. Did P0 ?tAii rnm ark that neither his mother or sister | ?Jf V/U took the least notice of her ?" "Indeed!" said the gentleman, with a med- 01 itative air. "Well, if she's not one of us, of course, he wont dare to bring her out in L society; but really, now, her air is very gen- c( teel." . m "Lair d'une femme puisse tromper quelque- ir fois," laughed Miss Witherton, as they canter- si ^ ed off together. n Hose felt very much hurt that Mrs. Yel- n monteaid not come up and speak to her; but h as she got into the buggy to go home, discov- a ered on the seat a package, which, upon open- il '% ing, proved to be a handsome silver cup, a marked with the baby's initials and accora- d panied by a very affectionate note from her v mother-in-law, saying all sorts of kind things t about her little grandson, and adding that she 1 would call the next day. ^ She did make her appearance at Wood- f stock on the following morning, and brought f Claudia with her. Louis was at Mr. Field- j ings', and, consequently, Rose received them 1 alone. Mrs. Velmonte was very affectionate. Miss Velmonte's manner was constrainedr-aiuL _ anything but pleasant; and Rose, who well knew how to "match her scorn with scorn," I was heartily glad when the visit was ended, ' and still more satisfied when she heard that * * the whole party had returned to town. The winter, filled up with its occupations and anxieties, passed very rapidly. Rose worked very hard and steadily; Louis appeared very hopeful regarding his future prospects, and little Louis, relinguishing the trou blesome habits of his early infancy, grew into a most lovely and loveable child. His mother, true to her nature, idolized his every attribute, and each hour discovered some new beauty in him. Early in March, she received a letter from Helen, saying that their father had had a stroke of paralysis, and probably would never be able to leave the house again ; and about a in a Boston paper, t>fl0 SULL1C tiIIIU oiiv v?> ?. which Mr. Moss sent her regularly, under the head of "Flashes from the Footlights," of the great crowds who nightly flocked to witness the performance of Jane Alverly, the gifted j dramatic star of the season. A little later, I ' she read in a L paper, that Jane Alverly I was in Philadelphia, and it was reported that the great actress might be induced to favor L with a visit the following winter. Rose thrilled all over with pleasure, as she If read this; and Oh! it was so hard not to be Ij ' "* able to tell Louis about what was so near hei U heart. In April she received a letter frorr I Mr. Leynton, sayingthat "Imogen" would b< I out, certainly, before the close of the nex F month ; and even these joyous anticipation 1 ?' - - were uncongenial. She could not conceal i 'rom herself any longer; but then it was noi Louis' fault, poor fellow! That he was, in th< east selfish, she never would allow, and sh( oved him?Oh! so devotedly. * * * * * One bright morning in April, the Honora >le Frederick Velmonte, having finished hit ireakfast, remained at table reading the laily paper. Suddenly his eye lit upon this taragraph: "We received yesterday, from the plantaion of Mr. Louis Velmonte, on river, >t James Parish, a basket of remarkably fine trawberries, the earliest we have seen. They re, we suppose, of the celebrated Peabody rowth, as some of them were equal in size to small gourd, aqd of a delicious flavor." "Grace," said the lawyer, laying down the aper and glancing across the table at bis wife, cau you imagine how that extravagant son f ours keeps his head above water ?" Mrs. Velmonte wa? silent, and only looked [stressed at any allusion from big'father to er favorite child. "There is something very strange about it II," continued her husband, "either he got iore from my poor aunt than we have any lea of, or I have been quite mistaken in him itherto." Then he fell to thinking a little hile, after which, "I wonder what sort of a person his wife is," } said. "You must have seen her Grace ; bat does she look like ?" "She is very pretty, and I should judge iulligent," said Mrs. Velmonte, faint with terr, as she thought of her clandestine visits. "It is singular that Louis has never applied me for money since he moved to his place," id the lawyer, thoughtfully. "I'd like to it at the bottom of this," and then he fell to another reverie, the result of v hich was resolution which he carried into effect the llowing day. ***** Breakfast was over some time at Wood>ck. Louis had gone out on the plantation, d Rose stood on the verandah, playing with e baby, whose nurse was partaking, accord5 to the custom of her race, of one of her nujrous forenoon repasts. They were a pretty jture?the mother and babe. Rose wore a jrning dress of soft blue chal&, with white ien collar and cuffs. A half blown rose >ted in her hair, one ringlet of which, little >uis's fingers having extricated from its itening, played over her shoulder, and her untenance, beaming with tenderness and ide, would have woed a painter's eye, while i baby, all in white, laughing and crowing, ' .?f- ?- i i i _ a trying to ciap nis lime nanus as sne need him up and down, was no mean addin to the charming effect. So absorbed was i in the little one's witchery that she did t observe a carriage drive through the grove d 8top about a hundred yards from the use, or a tall elderly gentleman get out of it. He perceived her, however, and pausing a while to contemplate the captivating I tare, presently walked, with alow,measured dst of a? "Here we go up, up, up?,M and gathering ) baby hurriedly upon her shoulder, came ward to receive the gentleman. "Mrs. Louis Velmonte, I suppose," said the anger, speaking with great slowness and vision, as he lifted his hat. Mrs. Louis Velmonte bowed with easy ice, as she settled the baby more comfortair in her arms. "I am Louis' father," said the visitor. In an instant her whole aspect changed. ie color deepened in her cheeks (as it always 1 in moments of great excitement,) then d, leaving her quite white. She drew up r slight figure till she appeared several ines taller, and calling to Nellie, who just en happened to pass through the diningom, handed her the baby, and with frigid liteness requested Louis' father to walk inthe drawing-room. "A nd Nellie," she said quickly, "send some ie to your master and let him know that his ,ther whhes to see him." The Hon Frederick was not a little discounted. He had come in a most magnani lous spirit, pryjared to forgive and patronize t a grand sort <? way, a person, who though le had at first don? him a great injury, had evertheless conducted herself in such a maner since as to merit lis approval; and whom e, as a christian, was >illing now to pardon nd countenance. And 'o! instead of a pen;ent culprit, he found hin^elf in presence of haughty, self-asserting laly, who gave orers to her domestic, and harmed him a chair rith the air of an empress, in whose estimaion his superior years alone enitled him to ler consideration and respect. Under such circumstances it wasratherdificult to get into conversation. Mr. .relmonte, i man of the world, and usually ery selflossessed, fidged, shifted his cane fom one rand to the other, and finally asked, "May I not see my grand son ?" ?!...< VqU..... speaking in such a deprecating tone ? Could that voice be the same which had scouod at 'Ned Livingston's dau^iter" more thai a twelve month before ? l\e great man vho was held in awe, not only bj his own famly but all his acquaintance, was evident.y abashed before a mere girl. Like a marble statue, N<J Livingston't daughter moved to the bell-roft, rang it, and when the old butler appeared iiauswer to hei summons, \ "Go and find the baby, Robev," she said "and bring him in here then turned hei seat without speaking. Mr. Yelmonte said nothing mor and thus they sat until Louis arrived, holdinthe babj j in his arms. # \ I Tkon Rnap < t uo. and with a hayhty in clinatiou of the head, swept from the^m. Louis elevated his eye-brows, but ^ pUr. posely avoided any of his significant ance{ and withdrew to her dressing-room, wlu }iei excited feelings found vent in a very vinous magazine article; and in less than fifteei^jn. utes, she had forgotten that there was anj^ else besides her ideal companions and hej on the plantation. Well, if genius has\< keen throbs of anguish, there are some r pleasures in it, too, to counterbalance th< i When Mr. Velmoute found himself al > with his son, he held out his hand to Lo who grasped it eagerly, feeling (and I i pretty certain, looking also,) as he had u i to do when a boy, after having been punis t and forgiven. s "Well, Louis," said the lawyer, "all tl i' months have showed me that I am mista t in my own nature. The father in me is too ! s t strong to keep my only son estranged from me ' i forever. How are you, my boy?" 1 ; Louis, replying that he was very well, ! grasped his father's hand, and seemed so ex- i I ceedingly grateful and overjoyed to be taken into favor again, that the old gentleman pres- i i ently recovered all his frigid complacency. 1 f "It is true," he said, in his old, precise, uni feeling tone, "that you crossed my wishes a ] year ago, but I am willing to forgive you, i Louis?and your wife, too ; she is a fine ( woman, my son. And now tell me all about f your affairs, and let me know how I can aid e you." f So saying, he attempted to take the baby in s his frigid embrace; but the infantile mind was evidently not pre-disposed in his favor, e for Louis, junior, set up a lusty cry, and was p i consigned by his papa to the arms of the cook, d I inlinm Vio lunlrnnofl frnm tVlA VHTfl for thflt. A purpose. * i h Then Louis, senior, basking in the sunlight?or rather moon-light of his papa's icy smile?gave a full and free statement of his ^ proceedings since his marriage*(omitting to ^ mention his wife's exertions, however); and 81 when he had concluded, his sire clapped him P on the shoulder, calling him "a noble fellow," h and repeated that he was now willing and c< anxious to forgive his wife also. a When his son requested him to spend a few a days at Woodstock, the old gentleman solemn- v ly replied that he would do so with pleasure, 03 provided the invitation were seconded by ? Mrs. Velmonte. tc Thereupon Louis flew off to seek his wife. ni He found her in her dressing-room, seated before the secretary, which was covered with writing materials, her head leaning upon her hand, and a rapt expression upon her fea- j0 tures. ni Louis' manner was so nervous and eager, that it was some moments before she could w clearly comprehend what it was he wished her ftl to do. But when his meaning became plain cc to her, she quickly averted her face, and an expression of suffering replaced that which he gj( had remarked on it as he entered. The bitter ^ memory of those cruel terms of contempt in which Mrs. Velmonte had spoken of her fam- wj ily, and which her husband had been weak ^ and injudicious enough to repeat to her in his first outburst of indignation against his father, ^ on his return from the North, was still fresh pu in her mind. ^ ttrw. ? r Li ? "\JXI : JUUUis, yuu uugub uub tu aon. suui u er thing of me," she said. "I cannot; indeed, I cannot" ? 80 . "There you are!" he impatiently exclaimed. gQ( "There you persist in standing in my light; CQ actually standing between me and my father's jQ aid (which I really cannot do without;) actually discarding all thought of my welfare for the sake of your childish pigue. Rose, Un Rose, I thought you had more character, more ^ affection for me." . I She-dropped her face into her handkerchief and burst into tears. It was so hard to have Jj him speak thus. *"^Iy own swee? wilfe/'ToUis continued more ^ gently. "You will not place any obstacles in the way of my happiness. Think how long I have been estranged from my father and mother, and what a trouble it has been to me. Surely, Rose, you will do as I wish." . Thus he reasoned, thus he urged; and fi- ^ nally, in spite of herself, in spite of her better y, judgment, of her pride, and every feeling of her nature which revolted against it, she yielded to her husband ; bathed her -tear-stained gc face, and accompanied him back to the drawing-room to do the agreeable with what grace she could to his papa. . , 1 Rose's manner, always courteous, was not ^ less so than usual on thi^ occasion ; but there was a certain dignity about her, against which her father-in-law's patronage seemed, somehow, to flatten itself against the wall. Of W1 course, there were no explanations between them ; but on the whole, the visit was, by no means, a comfortable or satisfactory one; and Mr. Velraonte saw fit to bring it to a close on J the following day. , As he was leaving, he informed Louis, graciously, that whenever they felt like coming to ?. town, he could always find room in his house . I for them, at which Louis's countenance beam- t!' tf ed ; but Rose, bowing her head coldly in acknowledgment of the kindness, inwardly re- 86 solved that nothing should ever induce her to e( set foot in a house from which she had been w expelled, in anticipation, before her rash and . AY singular marriage. The relations she held with regard to her husband's family, and in- ) deed the general society of her native place 1E were so mortifying, that often, of late, Rose had fostered the idea of their selling Woodstock and going North, or any where among ^ strangers, where Louis might get into busi- ^ ness, and she, helping him with her talents, c< they might manage to earn a livlihood. But now all hope of that was over. Louis seemed ^ so happy in the restoration to his father's af- S( fection and the prospect of going again to his a childhood's home whenever he wished, that ^ she, not being able to sympathize with him in e this, felt herself somew hat Kghi of*n M alien; and at times, in her morbid sensibility, ^ it seemed to her that it would be better for P him if she were not living. * **? * ** t< June came, and with it a letter and pack- t age, through the mail, for Mrs. Louis Yel- t montc. She was then staying at Mrs. Field- r iug's in the pine land, having moved there 1 early in May. Louis was in town at his fath- ? ' er's, and the family were sitting around the i table after breakfast, when the mail was I , brought in. d Before reading her letter, Rose opened the \ package, and found that it was a copy of c ' 'Imogen," handsomely bound in green mo- I r rocco and gilt, and printed in excellent type, with an engraving of herself (taken from a t photograph) for the frontispiece. The young authoress' heart wanned with pleasure to behold her dear child in this fesi tive dress, and'after looking through it about five different times, finally opened and read j her letter. It was from Mr. Leynton, who heartily con5 gratulated her on the success which the book f i had already met with, and enclosed extracts i | from several leading periodicals, in which | honorable mention was made of it. a While Rose was reading the letter, Mr. oH Fielding took up the book, and as she used ui\no nom deplume, at once saw what it was that ai^iad caused her heightened color and sparkisedjng eyes ; and when she next looked toward hedjra) he extended his hand, the cordial presre of which was the most eloquent manifes>ese ^ion he could make of his earnest sympathy . ken J congratulation. Mrs. Fielding, also, ] seemed very much pleased at the discovery of1 "her little sister," as she always styled her,1i being an authoress; but as soon as she could, . I Rose stole away with "Imogen" to her own j i room. . vl Little Louis had just awoke from his first { norning nap, and was in the sweetest of hunors. 'j! "My darling, my bird of beauty," the roung mother murmured, as she lifted him 1 j lpon her lap. Then she opened the bookf i 'his "elder sister," she told him it was,) be-! < ore him, and the baby, raising his great blue j ( yes to hers, fluttered his little fingers over the, s >ages, and cooed as though to express hij ^ ympathy. r "He understands, he feels with me !" shrT xclairaed, in an exstacy of delight. Thei^ \ tutting hira back upon the bed, she knel(i lown beside it, and prayed that God woujjfl 1 ? . i .i i J ? pare mm to oe tne soiace ana compaHiaugr^ ier future years. r'^li * * "Imogen" was, indeed, a great si/ccess. j 'he critics were most laudatory, and before t be summer was over, the first edition was all e aid off and a second called for. Louis was e leased, in spite of himself, at the fame which fc is wife seemed rapidly to be acquiring, and t ould not help acknowledging that her's was very elegant pursuit. Though a weak char- g cter, he was highly educated, and his culti- a ated taste pronounced "Imogen" a work of b lore than ordinary merit, which so delighted w lose that there now seemed nothing wanting a > fill up the measure of her perfect happiess. ' I a s< CHAPTER XVI. * Mr. and Mrs. Louis Velmonte spent the fol- J^ wing winter in L . They hired a fur- j * ished house, and although she was not "one us," Rose went a great deal into society, P here she was readily received as the gifted . ithoress of a popular novel, and "aressed ao- $ irdingly. She now contributed regularly to * iree or four different periodicals, also occa- j Dnally distributing stray fragment here and ere; and contrived to dress herself very 11 snteelly off the proceeds, besides assisting ith the house-rent. True, she worked very * ird all day, and frequently half the night ^ iter having danced all the evening at a ball; * it her hope was high, and her faith in the u ture unbounded. She was true to her reIve, never, on any pretext, to cross her fath- ' in-law's threshold; and though she fre- T lently met Claudia and her mother, and ^ metimes the old gentleman himself, out in ^ ciety, and treated them with invariable urtesy and respect, steadily refused every vitation to enter their house. I Louis, when he found that her decision was alterable, left off trying to persuade; but *de up for it, by dining at his father's very r^ squently, himself. During the summer Rose had heard twijje. P >ra Beatrix, who lavishing encomrams ifom raogen," in her latest letter, positively redr hpr BiHtar tliaf-aha nrn?1<1 n e course of the winter. So hore was anoth-" great joy in store for her. g( When Rose saw her mother, on her return ^ town, the meeting was productive of very ^ ange feelings to both. It was the first time at Mrs. Livingston had seen her daughter ^ ice her marriage, and Rose was consideray altered in appearance, having a certain ^ r of responsibility about her, and being acmpanied by her child, Mrs. Livingston could arcely realize that it was her little Rose. On the other hand, it seemed to Rose that " '< great many years had passed since she left sr child-hood's home. The aspect of affairs j0 ere was greatly changed. Edgar and his tr irents were gone, and Mrs. Livingston now id the use of the lower floor. The parlor is better furnished than formerly; and from ,0 me cause or other, Helen certainly looked a eat deal happier than she had used to. 'rs. Livingston seemed, to Rose, more like ^ bat she had been long ago in the early days ^ ' their poverty, when she (Rose) could just Dj irely remember. She caressed and fondled w rer her daughter as though she were still a a] ttle child, and shed tears of joy and admiralJfflo Tjmiio fhpn nalrprl about Bea- ^ UU UVOl 11VUV XfVMW I VMVU ^ ix, and expressed such an anxious desire to lw e her that Rose confided to her the knowl- ^ Ige of Beatrix' projected visit to L , at hich the poor mother seemed overjoyed. u Before she left, Rose asked to see her fath- ai , and found him in a very subdued and pen- w ential frame of mind. He recognized her ci omediately, and after a while spoke of his h dest daughter. He seemed to be very much ij oubled in mind about her, and Rose, telling a im all that she could to soothe and compose t< im on that subject, left him quite calm and o jmfortable. b As she was going out, Helen detained her 1; own stairs to talk a while ; and then the dear a )ul, in her own simple, earnest way, without o ny blushes or hesitation, or embroidered h ords, told how she had been for three months u ngaged to Charles Seaton, and that they * 'ere only waiting for the result of a case which j e was pleading in New Vo*k olfy, to ajc.oint their wedding day. If Charlie gained g be case, which his friends confidently predic- . ed he would, Helen went on to say, his forune was made. Aud then she kissed her sis- j er, and squeezing her hand very hard, said c lOthing more on the subject. r About Christmas time, Mr. Leynton came i South, and the gay young bachelor very read- 1 ly made his way into the society of L . < lis reputed wealth, haudsome person, and lashing manners, made him a universal fa- ? rnrite; and at no house was he more wel- ( iorae?or more pleased to be so?than at 1 jouis Yelmonte's. { T> ?1. ~ Viin-i witl, on on til n?i<ie. ItUSe, WUU IC^UIULU AM I 111 If AVAR MAM. | , ic kiud of gratitude, always speakiug to and j >f him, as her "dear friend," felt that they } lever could repay his kindness, and enterained for him the warmest regard. He, on j lis part, considered her a lovely little enthu- iiast, a charming study; and spending a great , portion of his time at their house, did not at- , lempt to disguise the fact that he preferred | ler society to that of any other lady of his icquaintance. And this was no mean dis- 1 Auction from a Congressman, highly esteemed for his abilities, and a man who had traveled iver the greater portion of the globe, and nixed with the society of almost every civilzed nation. A woman, so young as Rose, ;ould not but be flattered by it; and as Louis jpent a great portion of his time at the plantation, she readily accepted of Mr. Leynton's scort to concerts, parties, &c., to all of which Louis raised no objection. And in Europe, perhaps, it would have been all right. 1 One day that Helen and Rose were spending together, the former suddenly looked up Erom the morning's paper, which she was reading, and sffid quietly, "Rose, she has come." "Who has come ?" "Beatrix. She is stopping at Paine's." "Then let's away, immediately, and surprise her with a visit," said Rose. Helen agreed, and they accordingly set out for the hotel. But the waiter informed them hat Miss Alverly positively denied herself to ill visitors at that hour. So they left their jards, and hurrying off to one of the bookitores where tickets were sold for "Macbeth," vhich was to be the play that evening, there net Mr. Leynton, who at once offered himself Eran escort, and Louis being in the country, ras readily accepted as such.. How superb Beatrix was as lady Macbeth! lelen, who had not seen her sister since she ras fifteen, would never have identified the woman she beheld treading the boards iWSsuek- a queenly grace, with the slight, >a1r irirl. wRRrinir ft cloud on her brow, and i he lob*' of deep, concentrated thought in her I! ye#} who had left her home, desperate and i rnbittered against all the world, seven years i >efore ; and her bewildered gaze seldom left i he stage. i The L public, little thinking who the ' reat actress was, thundered their rapturous 1 pplause, and from pit and gallery rained ( ouquets, so that her path was literally strewn < nth flowers; but every word that she spoke fleeted Helen most painfully. i As soon as the performance was over, Rose I sked Mr. Leynton to take them behind the 1 jenes. He seemed, at first, surprised ; but s ttributing the request to "her charming en- i lusiasm," consented to gratify her supposed t him. It was with a most singular sensation mt Mrs. Velmonte found herself in the same 1 lace where she had met with such an adven- e ire just two years before. Her heart beat i uicker, and she found herself, involuntarily, i oking around for some enemy; then as she. 1 lought of Louis, and the part he had acted lat night, a strange, mingled feeling of joy s ad sadness overcame her. ? On enquiring for Jane Alverly, they were p inducted to a small dressiner-room nearest n le stage; and as their cicerone knocked at s le fast closed door, Rose requested Mr. n eynton to remain outside, and he accordingwithdrew several paces distance. v The door was cautiously opened by Julie, I ho, poppiug her head out, when she saw w ose, motioned her to come iu ; then closing e door upon the two visitors, strolled off to ive a glimpse of the after piece. ^ Beatrix was sitting in an arm-chair with < >r elbow on a table, and her head resting on ;r hand. She yet wore the garb of Lady acbeth, and her face, on a near inspection, >peared very wan and haggard. * She started up, on seeing her sisters, and rshe kissed Helen, suddenly dropped back t( to*her chair and began to sob. She was evi- n sntly in a highly nemmirarnrexeltcd state, 0 jrtifoey, judging it ^est not to stay long, tfCocae and see me to-morrow at Paine's," P jatrix said, raising her head and extending ?r trembling hand. "And bring mamma with j* iu. I want to see her before I leave this untry; for God only knows when I shall . turn." 15 "Where are you going, darling?" asked ose. a "I have made an engagement with a Lon- a >n manager, and will start for England next (,] eek," said Beatrix, in a weary tone. v Theu Rose and Helen kissing her, and prom- ^ ing to call the next day, went out and re- v ined their cavalier, who was sauntering up * id down the passage, smoking a cigar. He threw it away as he saw them, and care- 0 illy adjusting their wrappers, took them out fc ' find the carriage, and drove to Mrs. Liv- a gston's house. After they had set down * .'elen, Mr. Leynton went home with Rose, and * ie two had a nice cozy little supper, and af- t rwards Shakspearian discussions over the di- E ing room fire, until the visitor, looking at his t atch, saw that it was half past twelve o'clock, u ad took his departure. t The next morning Mrs. Livingston accom- ^ - - ? 1 -r-r i T 0 anied Kose ana neien ana mue ijouis, uu hose account Kose hired a carriage, to the cotel. q On sending in their cards they were shown y p to a small private parlor on the third floor, * ud in a few minutes Beatrix entered. She * as attired in a white casseraire robe with fa- k ings of cherry velvet. Her luxuriant dark ? air was arranged in a coroual of shining { raids in the front of her majestic head, with y string of pearls twisted loosely over it, and i jrminating in large pendants which drooped ? n either side of a massive French roll at the ( ack. The young actress moved with a statey grace, of which she was almost unconscious; j nd at sight of her mother, she dropped upon , ne knee, clasping her waist, and laid her < iead upon her shoulder, for some moments 1 inable to speak. j "My dear, dear child 1" murmured Mrs. Jyingston, bending fondly over her. J "Kiss me, mamma, and say that you for- "J five," said Beatrix, in faltering accents. "My own poor darling! long, long since, r^ever was really angry with you, Beatrix? >oor child?only grieved and anxious to think >f what your lot might be; but God, in his nercy, has kept you through all these years, ind you have persevered bravely in your hard ife. Yours is a noble success, my precious laughter." "Oh! mamma, I have so longed to hear you iay those words," said Beatrix, rising and pla:iug herself on the sofa beside her mother. "It las been a weary exile to me. I am happy ^ ' )ii the stage, ana wnen my miuu w uucu ,vith professional duties ; but in the hours of est and idleness, I have to wrestle with many in anguished thought." She ceased speaking suddenly. A ghastly pallor overspread her features. Her hands ivere clenched, her white teeth locked with a :leath-like rigidity, and her eyes rolled like jne in a spasm, as she sank back upon the jofa. ' V Rose uttered a shriek of alarm, which brought Julie into the room. "Oh! Mademoiselle is often thus," said the maid quietly ; and hurrying away she presently returned with a small phial, containing a ruby-colored liquid, some drops of which she poured into a glass, and holding it to her mistress' lips, managed to force the contents between her apparently closed teeth. Her mother and sisters gathered around, and in a surprisingly short space of time, beheld the color return to her face. Her eyes ceased their motion, her hands unclenched, and with a deep-drawn sigh,she sank into Rosalie's arms. Beatrix did not attempt to speak for several minutes, after which, "Mamma, dear," she said, gently, "don't be alarmed. 91 am not really ill; but ray strength has been somewhat overtasked of late, and I had not the appetite to eat any breakfast, this morning. Julie, go and get rae a glass of wine, and order toast and eggs for us all. Thank you, Rose, lean sit up, now." Then, for the first time, she noticed little Louis, who had fallen asleep on Helen's lap. "What a beautiful child, Rose," she said; "and he is so much like you." And she leaned over and kissed him several times, very softly. | Mm T .irrinmitrtn llrdrfi^ VlOP fn lift hllfc XTJLIO* JUlTJUgObVU ui^vu MV* wv ?*w J ~ this she refused to do, saying that she was , quite well now; and Sifter having drank the ] wine and eaten something, she insisted upon i taking Louis, who, by this time, had woke up, 1 upon her lap. 1 Pleased with her bright jewels, the child rntup, and sputtering vigorously with his little mouth, tried very hard to express his ad- 1 miration. Beatrix, smiling, took from her throat a small gold locket, set with rubies, and attached to a slender gold chaan, and j slipped it over her little nephew's head, j "Keep it, darling, to remember Aunt Beatrix ] by," she said; and Louis putting his little fet i arms around her neck, let her hug him as 8 3lose as she pleased. *' | After a while, when the conversation was ^ resumed, Mrs. Livingston gently broached t ;he subject of their father's condition, and in- j ;imated that she wished Beatrix to come and t lee him. To this, the young lady did not i ramediately reply; but buried her face in lit- e ,le Louis' dimpled neck. ^ Poor Beatrix! The wretched memory of ler suffering child-hood, which she had so a larnestly struggled to efface, now rose in all t ts bitterness to her mind. When she again t aised her face, her brow was darkened, and 4 ler nostrils dilated with agitation. 0 "Mamma, dear, please don't ask it of me," ^ he said faintly. "I cannot; indeed, I cannot v >ay to him that I bear no malice?that the r last is all forgotten ; that I ask his fbrgive- 1; less, if you will; but I cannot, Oh ! I cannot * ee him. It will unfit me for the duties of ? tiy profession." 11 So Mrs. Livingston ceased to urge, and the a isitors soon after took a mournful leave of a leatrix, who left L , the following day, e without having seen her father. e [conclusion next week.] o ipSttUatttous ?lMi?g. a DEATH IN THE CLOTJDS. Jj A fearful ballon accident occurred at Peoria, ? llinoifl, one day last week, on ue occasion of p lie county fair, the festivities of which were ) conclude with a ballon ascension, the tero- I? aut being Prof. Wilbur, who was to be ac- ^ rrmpnim rl li | tha nriifrii nfP^..;a pappy. P Fnfortunately, the order was given to cut the ? ad ascended twenty-five feet, the editor fell k > the ground, stunned though not seriously aj urt. Prof. Wilbur still unwisely clung to ^ le ropes, and the catastrophe which followed u i thus described by an eye-witness: 0] "He succeeded in reaching the basket or ri ar of the balloon, only so far as to get one P rm over the rim, where he hung dangling si nd struggling. His motions, and the fact ei bat the basket came in contact with a rope a rhich had fastened the balloon to the earth rhile it was being inflated, upset the car tl hen it was about 25 feet from the ground, a nd Mr. Knapp fell stunned to the ground, ir Jut there was no time for caring for him, for c< error held everybody spell-bound. A shout cl f admiration went up from those who were ri oo far distant from the scene to know that an w ccident had befallen the adventurers, and o: ho supposed that the ascent was being made e' ans contretempt8. _ a But to those in the immediate vicinity of he car the sight was an awful one, and for a aoment everybody seemed paralyzed with error, and stood rooted to the spot without if ittering cry or word. The balloon, lightened c >y the fall of Mr. Knapp, shot upward with c Ireadfully increased velocity, and a scream c if terror which chilled the blood of the hear- o irs came down from the upper air, where the c loomed aeronaut hung utterly hopeless of es- o aping death. At my side stood a woman vho, as I afterward heard, was the Professor's t vife. Her eyes were bursting from theirsock- v its, and her face palid and ghastly with fear, t >he clutched the air as if for support, and s vith one hand she grasped my arm, still look- s ng upward at the balloon, which, Bwifter than s in arrow, shot through the air. Up, up, it c vent, growing smaller and smaller in its flight, ind then with increased velocity it gave a t ludden start and shot yet faster toward the i ;louds. c Then a speck was seen far up in the air, e growing larger and larger as it fell. "0, my i jrod!" cried the woman, who clung to me < with iron grasp, "he will die?he will be kill- j jd!" Yet her eyes remained fixed upon that i falling body. At first it seemed like the stick s jf a rocket coming down with the speed of j light; then it was doubled up like a ball, then < seemed to unfold, and whirling about with a \ out. It seemed an age while the man was t falling, for before he loosened his grasp the I balloon must have been at least a mile from 1 the earth?and what an age to that poor wife j who watched her husband rushing toward her j and death with the speed of light. The de- ] scent was made in sixty seconds. 1 When about half a mile from the ground 1 his body ceased its gyratory motion, assumed < a perpendicular position and came down head 1 first It struck the earth some distance from i us, and then rebounded, falling again within a i few feet of where it struck. Then, from pa- i ralyzed fear, the crowd broke forth into shrieks of terror, women ran wildly about i screaming and actually tearing their hair, and a rush was made ior tne spot wnere tne oj?u had struck the ground. There was an indentation not less than eight or ten inches deep, and filled with blood and brains which had burst from the skull when, like a cannon ball let drop from an immense height, it crashed into the earth. The concussion is said to have been heard by residents of Paoli, half a mile distant. The Professor's hat, which came off a few seconds before he started, fell within four feet from him shortly after he reached the ground, he having passed it about midway down. The balloon rose to an immense height, and taking a northwesterly direction, landed some three miles from the scene of the disaster. + Self-Reliance.?It always seems to us old men as if the boys of the present day did not have half as hard a time as we boys of the past generation had, and as if the lessons of life which we learned in roughness and toil, and suffering, you boyB of to-day were either not learning at all or learning with kid-gloves on; or walking in paths of ease and comfort. Most of us learned self-reliance in a hard school. This quality of self-reliance u is one that every boy should possess, but si which he can hardly obtain unless he is tried I and made to reply upon himself. A man 8' without self-reliance is a poor stick of a man, 1; he should learn the lesson while he is a boy. 1] I say there is nothing like teaching a boy to p depend upon himself. That's the way I tl learned to swim. I tried for weeks to learn si in shallow water, but never had confidence ti enough in myself to strike out and really ii try. At last, one day as I was ducking ti around near the shore, that horrible monster a known as a "big brother" took me on the h deck of a schooner, near by, and threw me h over the outside rail in deep water, and told c! me to swim for my life?ana I did. I struck tl out for very terror, and to my utter astonish- el ment I saved myself, and from that moment d I was never afraid of the water and could I 3wim well. That rude, rash treatment of my n brother's gave me the self-reliance which I so n much needed. I was early taught in other things to rely upon myself, and I now have reason to be thankful for it. 'A THf flISTOBY OP THE PEiCfe w The peach is supposed to be*^pnative of f Persia, and its botanical nan^rarers to that >rigin. It is known .to have nourished in x)th Persia and China ate* -very early peri )d, and was highly valued in both countries. [t has often been found growing spontaneous- S1 y in Asiatic Turkey. It is mentioned by c' Pliny, and several other classical writers, and v' nauy anecdotes are related of the veneration ind even superstition with which it was re- * jarded by the Asiatics. There is no doubt 8t >ut it was "one of the trees of the Garden" re vhich God planted in Eden, and which were *3 o nourish and cheer our first parents in their ac )ristine purity and happiness. It is not menioned in the Bible, but its congener, the al- m nond, is mentioned several times, and as sarly as the days of Jacob. And we find hat when he was preparing his presept or the Governor of Egypt, ne commandd his son to take myrrh, wine and almonds c? s a gift, showing the esteem in which it was ni hen held. Again, in the directions for making 00 he golden candlestick, among the ornaments 011 he myrtle and almond are mentioned as wc f the chief. The peach, like civilization itself, traveled rom this centre westward into Europe, and wt ?e find it mentioned in Roman history in the ^ eign of the Emperor Claudius. It was highy valued by the patriarchs of Rome, and bu ras cultivated by them as one of their J?1 hoicest luxuries. It is still a standard tree a Italy. ' ^ It was introduced into England from Italy 'U1 bout the middle of the sixteenth century, nd |has been cultivated there as an exotic " ver since. Her cool, moist climate, howevr, prevents its general cultivation, and it is ply grown on walls or under glass, and the . ruit is seldom seen except on the tables of VJ3 be aristocracy. * Even in France, where the climate is much lilder, it is not always reared without projction, and the fruit has never gone into / eneral use, but is a delicacy confined to the . ealthy alone, the cultivation being confined rincipally to gardens. . jxi vuiua ib i. CAbcuoiveijr uuiuvuieu iu uio .. ardens of the rich, and has attained an ex aordinary size. Bnt ofiheir manner of y& ropagation and culture but little is known, anwine to the exclusive policy heretofore pur- a.n ledjfoYate.nnfi\ft^' I'temiv ?i'R!f iMiuiiln [2S rU-P lor, a1 muxe" acCuiaic' auu. uouipicief^r nowledge of the peach is one. The Chinese , re great gardeners, and much affect the cuous in horticultural as in other arts, and e may learn much that is interesting, if not ^ ' seful. We know that they produce peaches f very large size, and two at least of very ^ ire shape?the Chinese Flat and Crooked 'each. With this beginning, we will not be irprised at still more curious ingenuity, and ? aterprise of our countrymen will soon dis- ^ej aver whatever may be known. . It is to our credit that the United States is ? j le only country in the world that, either in j ncient or modern times, has produced peaches . 1 sufficient quantities to allow them to be- . ame a common marketable commodity, so ^ heap, that the poor, as well as the rich, may 3gale themselves as well as their families . ith one of the most wholesome and delicious , f fruits at a very small expense, and with , very prospect that they will still be more ^ bundant and cheap. ECONOMY IN SELECTING CARPETS. In selecting carpet for rooms much used, it f i poor economy to buy cheap ones. Ingrain CQ arpets, of close texture, and the three-ply arpets, are best for common use. Brussels arpets do not wear so long as the three-ply .. nes, bedause they cannot be turned. Wilton , arpets wear badly, and Venetians are good , g nly for halls and stairs. , In selecting colors, avoid those in which " here are any black threads; as they are al- . vays rotton. The most tasteful carpets are hose which are made of various shades of the nc ame color, of all shades of only two colors; ^ uch as brown and yellow or blue and buff, or m almon and green, or of all shades of green, ir of brown. r In laying down carpets, it is a bad practice q o put straw under them, as this makes them , vear out in spots. Straw matting laid under , arpets makes them last much longer, as it is . imooth and even, and the dust sifts through t In buying carpets, always get a few yams . >ver, to allow for waste in matching figures. 1 [n cutting carpets, make them three or four * nches shorter than the room, to allow for j itretching. Begin to cut in the middle of a J1 icure. and it will usuallv match better. Many carpets match in two different ways, and care nust be taken to get the right one. Sew a carpet on the wrong side, with a double waxed thread, and with the boll etitch. This is done . by taking a stitch on the breadth next to you, 1C pointing the needle toward you; and then taking a stitch on the other breadth, pointing ^ the needle from you. Draw the thread tight- .J ly, but notso as to pucker. In fitting a breadth to the hearth, cut slits in the right place, and turn the piece under. Bind the whole of the u carpet with carpet-binding, nail with tacks, P having bits of leather under the heads. To K stretch the carpet,, use the carpet fork, which is a long stick, ending with notched tin, like 3aw teeth. This is put in the edge of the car- w pet, and pushed by one person, while the nail P is driven by another. Straw matting is best for chambers and summer parlors. The checked, of two colors, ^ is not so good to wear. The best is the cheap- a, est in the end. When washed, it should be g done with salt water, wiping it dry; but fre- a quent washing injures it. Bind matting with tl ?_ is--. a? 1 .lit, x 1J1.? - cotton Dinawg. oew oreuuui wj^cmci um g carpeting. In joining the ends of pieces, r< ravel out a part and tie the threads together, h turning under a little of each piece, ana then, tl laying the ends close, nail them down with C nails having kid under their heads.?Miss q Beecher. si Letters of Recommendation.?A gentleman advertised for a boy to assist him in o his office, and nearly fifty applicants present- ii ed themselves to him. Out of the whole num- b ber, he, in a short time, selected one and dis- v missed the rest. s "I should like to know," said a friend, "on what ground you selected that boy, who had not a single recommendation." s "You are mistaken," said the gentleman; i "he had a great many. He wiped his feet a when he came in, and closed the door after t him, showing that he was careful. He gave c ^i~I p his seat instantly to that lame old man, lowing that he was kind and thoughtful, le took off his cap when he came in, and antvered my questions promptly and respectfuly, showing that he was polite and gentlemauy. He picked up the book which I had purosely laid upon the floor, and replaced it on le table, while all the rest stepped over it or lioved it aside, and he waited quietly for his irn instead of pushing and crowding, showig that he was honest and orderly. When I ilked with him I noticed that his clothes'were arefully brushed, his hair in nice order, and is teeth as white as milk; and when he wrote is name, I noticed that his finger nails were lean, instend of being tipped with jet, like iat handsome little fellow s in the blue Jackie Don't you call these letters of recommeriation ? I do, and would give more for what can tell about a boy by using my eyes ten tinutes than all the fine letters he can bring ie." ' How Government Notes are Made.? .8 very little is known by those generally ho handle pr possess the circulating medium, ) to how the notes are made, we append the illowing: "Government notes are printed on paper irnished expressly for the purpose by the reasury Department. It is of a peculiar rain and texture, and manufactured by as? et process known only to a few sworn mdtiduals. A strict account is kept 'of every leet furnished to the note printers, and all hich are Spoiled in the process, or imperfectly ruck oil, must be carefully preserved and turned to the Treasury Department. Eve' sheet and part of a sheet must be strictly counted for. It is thus that all probabili38 of fraud are prevented. The lathes for aking the scroll work cost an immense nount of money. They are so expensive at counterfeiters cannot afford to procure em. It being in this feature especially that e Government relies for protection against unterfeiters, the different Dank note compaes have vied with each other in building mplicated and accurate lathes. A good achine for ?doing first-class scroll work is >rth a mint of money to the owners. "There are few persons accustomed to ndling greenbacks and shinplasters daily 30 have any idea of the amount of work neciary to, produce the engraving. We admire e fine workmanship and beauty of designs, t unless we take pains to inquire into the itter, we cannot appreciate the intricacy of tail. It is sAidthafc a man worked two lole months in engraving the head of Combus on the back of $5 greenbacks. This sms like a somewhat improbable story, but is doubtless true. "A bank note or greenback is printed by reral distinct impressions. That is, it is run rough the press several times. For every pression there is a separate engraved plate, oofs of these plates are takeneeparately and isely examined before the notes are struck >? Cinnamon.?Cinnamon-bark is well known all readers. Boys and girls, as well as * iny grown people, like to scent and eat it. is an article of commerce, and large quantis are brought to the United States every ir. It is in daily use, but not many take y thought about where and how it grows, d how it is prepared for the market The """""Tirtii sww&tito t Mfe# yiviMne. ' 6ut thia plant is cultivated chief-' by the people of China, not because a bet quality or more abundant crop is produced ire, but because the Chinese are more instrious and value commerce more highly in the Ceylonese. These countries have iir cinnamon harvest, when all hands are sily engaged, as are we in gathering the Auctions of this country, But this harvest nmences in May and continues until Octor. The plants are not cut down and deseed, but the twigs or shoot limbs are carcly selected and cut off, ranging in size from lalf inch to two inches, the smaller the betAfter they are cut from the plant, a ife, made for the purpose, is run several aes lengthwise through the bark, so that it ly be easily stripped off. After being ipped off, the bark is dried in the sun, and lied up like quills. It is then bound into ndles of thirty pounds each, sewed up in its and sent to market. The "cac;ia-buds" which are prooured at e drug and confectionery stores, and chewed sweeten the breath, are the dried flowers the cinnamon tree, which are gathered for mmerce just before they burst into bloom. ? Life Indefinitely Suspended.?-A dislguished Sweedish chemist. Professor GrusIbach, a professor of the University of Tpsai, is come to the conclusion that those Egypin mummies which are found in the ancient mbs on the Nile, in a complete state, that is say, without having been deprived of their ains and entrails, like most mummies, pre tt embalmed at all, but "are really the nlies of individuals whose lives have been omentarily suspended, with the intention of storing them at some future time, only the cret of preservation was lost" Professor russelbach adduces many proofs in support ' his idea?among others his experiments iring the last ten years, which he says have ways proved successful He took a snake id treated it in such a manner as to benumb as though it had been carved in marble, id it was so brittle that, had he allowed it i fall, it would have broken into fragments. ' * * * 1 - 1 1 !l on/I l tnis state ne sept u jui ocvciai jc<uo, < *?? ien restored it to life by sprinkling it with a imulating fluid, the composition of which is secret. For fifteen years the snake has been ndergoing an existence of successive deaths ad resurrections, apparently without sustainig harm. The professor is reported to have :nt a petition to his government, requesting rnt a criminal who has been condemned to Bath may be given to him to be treated in 16 same manner as the snake, promising to store him to life again in two years. It is nderstood that the man undergoing this exeriment is to be pardoned. Of course, if a tan can be kept in a state of suspended anilation for two years, he may be kept for two lousand years, an-1 if the professor succeeds, e may lay up a few specimens of our contemoraries for exhibition in the thirty-ninth ceniry. A Quick Recovery.?A Scottish trader as constantly afraid of his health, and imgined himself ill of every epidemic that was oing. At length the cattle plague broke out, nd he persuaded himself that he was ill with ia disAASA and sent in haste for the doctor. oing over the symptoms of which he had sad in the papers, all of which he fancied he ad. "I hope you don't really feel so," said ie doctor, "for there is an order by the Privy !ouncil that every beast with these symptoms lust be shot immediately." The trader was ion well again. How to Core a Cold.?Contrary to an Id theory, a popular writer gives the followag on how to manage a cold: Eat nothing ut a piece of toast, drink freely of cold water, ?alk twice a day till you are in a genteel perpiration, and go to bed early. / I?* A gentleman learned in the origin of ocial customs was asked what was the mean g of the custom of casting an old shoe after i newly married couple as thev start on their rip. Said he, "To indicate tnat the chances >f matrimony are very slippery."