The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1855-09-25 00:00:00

,INTENT TO THE LIVERPOOL STANDARD.

of shining curls on her shoulders ; her features
were regular, and her complexion pure red and
white ; her figure was petite, but most exquisitely
rounded, while her hands and feet were tiny as a
fairy's.
" Dear Laura !" she cried, as she sprang into
her cousin's arms, " I am so glad to be at home
again ! So I hear you have been having a sick
knight here while I was gone ; long letters from
a .certain cousin of mine not a mile off, full of a
handsome squire most dolefully sick, reached me.
I saw him at the gate, and, instead of a pale,
interesting youth, he struck me as being in a
most stupid state of health. Lost your heart,
Laura, eh 7"
" Nonsense, Grace !" replied Laura. " You are
wild with spirits. How did you leave Mrs. Ellis
and Fanny 7"
" Well—everybody well !" said Grace. " But
here comes Mr. Elliot up the avenue ; you must
introduce me." And bounding across the room,
the gay beauty smoothed her curls, arranged her
collar more to her satisfaction, and announced
her readiness to be presented to Walter.
The young man gave a start of delighted sur-
prise when his eyes fell upon Grace. Her pale-
blue dress, which was cut so as to leave her fall-
ing shoulders and round white arms bare, set off
to the utmost advantage her exquisite complexion
and golden curls ; her drive, and the excitement
of coming home, gave an additional tinge of
colour to her cheeks, and her eyes sparkling with
animation. Walter bowed gracefully, and they
were soon engaged in a lively conversation. Laura
left them together, and went to read the papers
to her uncle, her regular evening task.
So it began, so evening after evening it con-
tinued. Laura was obliged to devote two or three
hours to her uncle, while Grace and Walter took
long moonlight walks, or conversed together in
the piazza ; or her cousin's clear sweet voice rose
and fell on the night air in songs, while a manly
tone mingled with the strain, and Grace's guitar
accompanied the delicious music.

Day by day Laura's face grew pale and sadder,
and Walter felt that there was no bliss to him
like Grace's presence ; yet neither dared to speak
of the change. Laura saw that the love between
these two was stronger than Walter's love for her
had ever been ; but she sickened when she tried
to speak of it, and he dared not approach the
subject.
It was late one evening, when the cousins had
retired to their own room, that Laura noticed
how very sad Grace looked. She was pained, for
Grace, like Shakspeare's Beatrice, had " little of
the melancholy element in her," and Laura knew
that nothing but some deep grief could so cloud
her young joyous face.
" Grace, what troubles you ?" she sad, drawing
the young girl to her side.
" Oh, Laura," sobbed her cousin,
miserable !"

" I'm so

" Why, darling, what can make you unhappy ?"
" I—l--well, I may as well tell you all, Laura ;
perhaps you can comfort me. This evening,
while I was walking with Walter, he told me that
he loved me—

" Loved you, Grace ?" exclaimed Laura.
" Yes," she replied ; " but he is engaged to
somebody else ! And oh, I love him so much !"
" He should not have told you if he is bound
to another," said Laura.
" He did not mean to tell me," replied Grace ;
" but he loves me so much that he could not

refrain from letting me know it."
" How can he love you and her too ?" said
Laura, astonished at her own calmness.
"He don't lope her," said Grace ; "but he
says he was once far away from home, very sick,

115

and she nursed and took care of him -just as you
did, Laura, and he fancied he was in love,
because he felt so grateful to her, and so he asked
her to be his wife. She said she would, and he
thinks he is bound by honour to fulfil his engage-
ment. She cannot love him as I do."

"What is her name ?" inquired Laura.

"He would not tell me," replied Grace ; " and
he asked me never to tell any one what he had
told me ; but he could not have meant you,
Laura, for I tell you everything."

Laura caressed and kissed her cousin, and
whispered, " All will be well yet, Grace. Hope
and trust !" She then left her.

The next morning she excused herself, on the
plea of head-ache, from accompanying them in
their usual ride. She smilingly bid them good
bye, and stood on the piazza watching them off.
Carlo, her spaniel, bounded after the horses, turn-
ing his head as if to bid his mistress farewell.
They were gone ! Pietro carried her habit to her
room again, and she was alone ; still she moved
not. There was a fearful struggle in her mind.
" Must I give him up ?" she murmured. " She
is so light hearted that she would get over this.
He is mine—mine ! But he loves me not !"

Time flew by unheeded by her ; she was so
absorbed in her reverie that the hours were as
minutes. At length she turned and re-entered
the house ; with tottering steps she regained her
room ; once there she collected all her calmness,
wrote and folded a note, carried it herself to
Walter's room, and then again in her own
chamber, the task over, she fell without con-
sciousness on the floor.

When Walter Elliot returned from his ride he
found upon his table the following note :—" Grace
has told me all ; you are free !—LAuRA."
When Laura rejoined them the next morning
she was again calm, dignified, and even cheerful.
Walter and Grace never knew the struggle and
anguish this had cost our heroine, and Walter
said to himself, " She is too cold to love !"
Grace returned home with Walter ; Laura
stayed in the West Indies with her uncle ; when
he died she still kept the house ; but some time
after this she went on a visit to Grace. Grace's
youngest boy was, after much solicitation, per-
mitted to return with Laura, and Laura—still
Laura Grahame—lives still in the old house with
him. If you ask her why she was never married,
she smiles, shakes her head, and says she was
intended for an " old maid," and had to work
out her destiny.—Family Herald.