Oh! Gertrude, beware what you do; 1 fear you were all with the past. He must leave the earth, will wilfully estrange a noble heart--and you can so filled with love and beauty, and lie down in the help casting on him that ridicule which alone he darkness and silence of the narrow grave. But feels, and deeply. I mean that which proceeds Alphonso was a christian, and, with the eye of from your own lips. You are generally the first faith, saw heaven's bright portals opening beyond. to cast back the sneer, he loves you Gertrude, and this should deter a kind heart from inflicting needless pain; if you cannot esteem and love him, discourage him at once, do not induce hopes which you destroy the next hour. "Tis cruelty, Gertrude, and, at least, my friend, be true to your own heart." Gertrude was moved and troubled,-but, in a moment, she said, "Well, Mary, I promise to be so good hereafter, so now don't lecture me any more. Let us begin our toilette, 'tis past eight, and our guests will soon be here ;" and she threw her graceful arms round Mary and imprinted a kiss on her delicate cheek.

He turned from the beautiful scene, and, in a feeble voice, said, "Alicia, my own love, 'tis a month this evening to our bridal--how have I longed for its approach; with what blissful thoughts has its anticipation filled my heart! but I feel that long ere that wished for morning dawns, my spirit will be in the home of the blest-I trust you are prepared to resign me-had it pleased God to spare my life, I feel many years of happiness were in store for us, but, oh! may He enable us to say, Thy will be done.'”

"Resign you Alphonso! Oh, you will not, you must not die!" and she threw her arms round him and wept passionately.

There was a small party at Gertrude's that evening, and she kept her promise, even though the "It is a bitter struggle to leave you, my Aliciajealous eye of the mocking Marchmont watched but learn subjection to God's will. Alicia, let me her; but when her head pressed her pillow, the not die without the hope of meeting you in a better remembrance of Frederick's countenance, radiant world. Look up, Alicia-do you see that beautiwith happiness when he bade her adieu, repaid ful star? how calmly it shines over the clouds her for her forbearance and kindness. But, alas! through which it has struggled! It is the type of for Frederick, Mary was not always with Gertrude, a spirit that rises superior over the dark clouds of and again and again did he suffer from the unkindness of her he loved with entire devotion.

"Oh! that there should be

Things, which we love with such deep tenderness,
But, through that love, to learn how much of wo
Dwells in one hour like this!"

"Twas the sunset hour of a calm bright day in the "month of flowers," and those sweet visitants of a season were filling with fragrance the mild breeze, which came through an open window of Frederick's home in L. On a couch beside it lay Alphonso Graham; Alicia sat by him, holding his emaciated hand, and gazing, with tearful eyes, on his burning cheek.

life. Oh! you know not the strength of a heart that rests on God." He took from his pillow a small Bible." This is Alphonso's last gift to his Alicia, promise to read and follow its precepts, it will guide you to my home when I leave you."

In an agony of tears the almost inaudible promise was given.

Long did the dying lover strive to soothe, with the inspired promises, the breaking heart of her he loved. In two days more, the cold earth was heaped over all that remained of the gifted and beloved Alphonso Graham. His desolate mother did not long survive her son. Many were the lessons of resignation she gave the mourning Alicia; but that proud heart needed other afflictions, ere He was dying of consumption, brought on by it was humbled. Refusing all comfort, she gave his indefatigable exertions. When he at last gave herself up to the wildest grief, which was succeeded up hope, he yielded to Frederick's earnest solicita- by an apathy from which nothing could arouse her. tions, and removed to L. with his mother. His Frederick removed her from L., now so fraught friend thought the pure air and Alicia's soothing|with painful memories; but vain were all endeaattentions and love would benefit him, but Alphonso vors to restore to her the least cheerfulness, and knew he came to die.

But Alicia dreamed not of death; as the cool breeze lifted the dark curls from his fevered temples, and gave a momentary freshness to his languid countenance, she felt hope springing up in her heart. Alas! that kindling up of life was like the glorious hues spread on the clouds, Alphonso lay silently watching-soon, soon to pass silently away.

Such were his thoughts, as he gazed on them and the curling waters of the lake. How often had he skimmed its waves, with the dear one at his side; how often watched the sun sink behind that distant range of mountains, but these joys

with a heavy heart Frederick returned to M., hoping that time would bring a cure, for that grief, which even his love and attentions could not alleviate.

Shrouded in the deepest mourning, Alicia secluded herself from her most intimate friends, and dwelt alone with her sorrow.

"I would bind my heart as soon, To the fickle wind or changing moon." Gertrude Singleton and Charles Marchmont sat together in her drawing room. His usual light manner was earnest, and his voice soft and low, as he said-" Years ago there was an ardent boy, who

cherished a dream of beauty and delight. Through me his escort to see me safely home. He must the many changing scenes and years of youth and be a noble young man, Charles, in spite of all we manhood was the realization of that vision sought; | hear of him." many were the soft and bright eyes to which he turned, hoping to find it there, and many the gentle hearts he sought. Would you know the dream? 'Twas of a being gloriously beautiful, and she was kind and true to him, and their hearts were bound in one. You behold the youthful dreamer before you. You are the embodiment of the spirit of that dream. Oh! Gertrude, will you also be to me the kind and true in heart ?" and he gazed earnestly into the beautiful face of the listener as he knelt before her.

"Rise, Mr. Marchmont; I am no divinity to bow the knee before, and least of all, to one who bears a heart that can so soon forget," was the cold reply.

Marchmont gazed on her with surprise-he had not expected so calm a repulse, but, in a moment, he sprang to his feet, and said

"Curses on him, curses on him," muttered her brother fiercely and left the house. Annie had, unconsciously, touched a jarring chord. "Yes, I see it all, he has told Gertrude Singleton of some of my foolish boasts of my conquests of Emma Leston and others-but, curse him, he shall not escape my vengeance, the soft hypocrite. A month ago she would have been mine--but”

"But what are you raving and racing about, at this rate, in the open street ?" said the voice of Frank Harcourt by his side.

"Why-enough-I told you I should see Gertrude this morning, and, instead of a gracious acceptance, I have met a haughty refusal-and, to me, 'tis plainly the work of Frederick Livingston." "Has Miss Singleton, or any other, intimated this to you?"

"No, nor need they. Who else could, or would "A heart that can so soon forget! What mean dare ?-and he shall find he cannot cross my path you, Miss Singleton ?"

"That your enthusiastic rhapsody were better addressed to Emma Leston, whom you worshipped a few months since, or one of the many others who have heard your changeless vows.'

"Ah! Gertrude"

"Miss Singleton, if you please." "Well-Miss Singleton, could you read my heart, these taunts would all be hushed! 'Tis true I have bowed at many shrines, but you only have I loved."

"If you have not loved them, you are still more heartless than ever I deemed you, and to the next new face, thus will you paint your love to me." "And is this the reward of all my love, my devotion to you, the end of all my fond hopes?" "It is."

with impunity."

Doubtless, smooth villain," said Charles, losing all self-control; but, did you not tell her how fickle and false Charles Marchmont was ?"

Gracefully, but with frigid coldness, Gertrude returned his parting salutation, and, with a hurried "You are insulting, Mr. Marchmont, and your step and flushed cheek, Marchmont reached his words must be explained-but I will ask one queshome. Throwing himself on a sofa in the drawing-tion,-who was your informant ?" room, the various feelings which agitated his breast "No one-but I know you, cunning hypocrite; chased each other in quick succession over his you have sought to ingratiate yourself by misrephandsome face; surprise, indignation, and disap-resenting my indiscretions."

pointment were pictured there, and dark suspicion "I am not so intimate with Mr. Marchmont, as was busy at his heart, and threw her gloom across his words would lead one to believe; ignorance his brow. A few moments after, his sister entered; of most of his actions is my happiness-but you he had heard her bid adieu to some gentleman at shall hear from me soon," and he passed on. the door, and asked,

Who was your escort, Annie ?".

"Mr. Livingston."

"Livingston !-Pray when did he begin to bestow such favors on you?"

"Oh! deep is a wounded heart, and strong
A voice that cries against mighty wrong;
And full of death as a hot wind's blight,
Doth the ire of crushed affection light."

"He met me in a scene of danger, half dead A gloomy autumn day was drawing to its close; with fright. As I crossed P. street, two men be- the rain fell heavily on the withered leaves which gan fighting, the crowd which gathered round strewed the earth, and the large drops trickled hemmed me in, and I could not extricate myself. down, like tears, from the black and naked branches Mr. Livingston passed at the moment and offered above. Without, all was desolation and woe; but

within the dwelling, which stood amidst this mourn- groups that thronged the entrance to Mrs. Gerald's ful scene, the desolation was greater, the woe brilliant mansion in M. But the cold, bright beams deeper, for their blighting breath was on that frail and quivering string, the human heart.

Alicia sat motionless, gazing on an open letter she held tightly in her hand; her rich dark hair fell in dishevelled masses around her. But the wild mournfulness of the tearless eyes; the agonized expression of the pallid face, told what a tempest of grief had preceded this death-like calm. Slowly the pale lips unclosed, as she said "I thought, Alphonso, when you died, I could feel no more-deeply did I then drink of sorrow's bitter cup-but 'tis over now, it stands empty by my side, I have drained it to the dregs, I shall never feel another pang.-Another task than idle grief awaits me now."

were unheeded by the gay individuals that crowded into the more genial warmth and brilliancy of those festive halls. Every thing told that cares and sorrows were to be awhile forgotten in the delirious excitement of pleasure.

A tall and noble lady stood leaning on a harp in one of those elegant rooms; the dark rich folds of her velvet dress contrasted finely with the marble whiteness of her beautiful neck and arms. Of the same pure hue were cheek and brow, for, though over the former the " eloquent blood" wandered often, bright and free, 'twas usually pale as now. Her glossy ebon hair was simply arranged, and surmounted by a tiara of diamonds. No clustering curls, nor festooned braids, concealed the classic

The letter which had called forth these words proportions of her small head, or hid the lofty and was as follows:

M., Nov.-rd -.

spacious brow. Her eyes were large and intensely black, and the expression of an indomitable spirit lighted their depths. The beautiful mouth was perfect in repose, yet when smiles there leapt to birth, you were startled by its witchery. As she stood, almost motionless, she resembled some beautiful statue from the studio of Phidias or Praxiteles, but, when she spoke or smiled, this vision vanished, and a living Venus breathed and glowed before you.

"My dear Alicia, my cherished sister :"Before these lines reach you, I shall be in eternity, and oh! how dreadful is the path by which I must enter. My old enemy, Charles Marchmont, insulted me, supposing I had slandered him to Gertrude. It is needless for me to tell you of my innocence. But one thing remained for me to do, in this land which holds that most horrible code of honor, a sacred thing. I, a duellist!-it cannot She was the embodiment of perfect beauty, and be-but, yes, I have challenged him, and in one so thought the admiring circle who gazed upon her. hour we meet; but God is my witness, there is "I wonder why Beatrice Merlin always wears no thought of murder in my soul, my heart goes those dark velvets-their richness is certainly most not with my hand. I feel-I shall feel. I must becoming-but I long to see her in the light draleave you, my sister, and-Gertrude--Oh! Alicia pery, so much loved by our southern maidens, and this thought makes death more bitter. Oh! that watch her majestic figure floating through the I might look on thy dear face once more. My mazes of the dance," said Gertrude Singleton to a sister, my sister, how have we loved, and thus I gentleman, on whose arm she leaned. die far from thee. May the God of our youth, to whom I commend my soul, watch over and preserve thee. Farewell,

Your fond brother,
FREDERICK."

Beneath was written in a delicate hand;
"I was your brother's friend, dear Alicia, and
this letter was sent to me by him, with the request,
that if he fell, I would convey the sad tidings to
you. That pure and noble spirit has indeed taken
its eternal flight, but let us not mourn as those
without hope. He avows his innocence of pur-
pose, and our Heavenly Father is a God of mercy.
May He strengthen you to bear this fiery trial.
"One who loves you and feels for you in this
deep affliction."

"But thou, though a reckless mien be thine,
And thy cup be crowned, with the foaming wine,
By the fitful bursts of thy laughter loud-

By thine eye's quick flash through its troubled cloud,
I know thee! it is but the wakeful fear
Of a haunted bosom that brings thee here!"

It was winter, and a dazzling flood of moonlight poured down on the rattling equipages and busy

"Beatrice Merlin dance ?-why-would you put Juno in the garb and attitude of a sylph? Might we not ask why the brilliant Miss Singleton always chooses spotless white for her attire ?"

The rich bloom faded slightly on Gertrude's cheek, as she gayly replied, "I think I display great skill in my dress. Now, are not these white buds finely contrasted with my jetty ringlets, and does not a white robe relieve the bright rose of my cheek?-but, in sooth, sir, you're presumptuous to criticise my taste, and I will not permit such liberties," and, with a well-feigned frown, she accepted the arm of another and walked away.

Since the death of Frederick, Gertrude had not appeared in her former gay attire, and much of her heartless manners had gradually disappeared. But these changes were attributed to the caprice of taste and love of novelty.

Frederick's name was seldom mentioned, in the gay circle of which he was the ornament. Was it that "he lay forgotten in his early shroud?" Not so, not so, there were hearts that ever had his memory enshrined within them; hearts in that

gay crowd, which were ever haunted by his low on her peculiar and searching eye, it seemed to tones and gentle mien; hearts that remembered rend open his heart; and he felt as if he stood with him with anguish and remorse, and of these were all his harrowing reflections and bitter thoughts Gertrude's and Marchmont's. Yet none but Mary revealed before her. knew how the former loved him and mourned over her cruel folly to him.

Beatrice's society had now become necessary to his happiness; his spirit required the excitement her strange beauty and brilliancy furnished. Day by day, did he seek her, and each hour did she bind him stronger to her, by her almost magic spells; yet he was often troubled in her presence. Her insight into character, her graphic descriptions of a heart ill at ease, the energy and elo- he raised his eyes to her face. It was pale, paler quence with which she painted the horrors of an than ever; the large eyes were dilated and fixed so avenging conscience startled him. As he looked wildly, so intensely upon him, that he involunta

Her figure was bent slightly toward in humility and grief of soul, bowed before hersuspense had wrought, to its utmost tension, every chord of his excitable spirit; he felt that on her decision of his fate hung happiness or misery.

him, and on her parted lip there seemed no breath. The eyes only seemed to live and burn into his soul.

"Beatrice!" he said, in a low tone of alarm, And this decision he had vainly sought; she would "why do you look thus ?"

"There is something in the power of inevitable inexorable fate, that fascinates me strangely-my spirit had passed into the words you read." "And I was the miserable Manfred to you, I his haggard, anxious countenance, once so lit with suppose," said he, with a forced laugh.

"Why that question; do I generally bear the in the throes of her victim, and never did a day impress of a woe-worn wretch ?"

"Is not mockery the sign of the presence, rather than the absence of remorse and sorrow? Is there The shadows of twilight had clothed every obhappiness in your restless eye, and in the uncon- ject with its sombre hue, and Beatrice sat alone scious sigh that flies your heart in your hours of amidst its subdued light, in her spacious drawingwildest mirth? I know too well the bitterness of room. She was leaning her pale cheek on her the soul to be easily deceived," said she earnestly. hand which rested on the side of an open window "And how did Beatrice Merlin learn this power overlooking a beautiful garden. of reading hearts?"