Literary cadet and Rhode-Island statesman. [volume] (Providence, R.I.) 1827-1829, 1827-06-02

pupil. Ihe girls soon attached them
selves fondly TO their young indulgen,
governess and, there affection obtained
for her all the good will and unben-
ding kindness it was in the nature OF
Mrs. L. to confer on any human
being in a dependant situation. MIR.
l., man of cool and formal
manners, fully impressed with the sense
of his own wealth and consequence,
but one whose better feelings were not
all sacrificed at the shrine of Mammon,
treated her with invariable and almost
attentive politeness, during the stated
intervals when, in attendance on her
young charges, she was admitted to
his society. 1t is true, he exchanged
but few words with her, and those ap.
peared constrained, as if by the latent
fear of compromising his dignifed i'm
portance; but there was gentleness
in the tone Of his voice when he ad-
dressed himself to the timid orphan,
and benevolence in his eyes, which
carried with them to the young be-
reaved heart of Blanrhe D'Albi, a far
kinder signification than was implied
by the mere words ofhis unvaried for
NAL salutation. " | hope yon are well
to-day, Ma'msclle ?" n
Those were among her happiest
moments when, encircled by her young
attentive auditory, she spoke to them
for to them she could speak of it-of
her own native land, of its high noun
tains, whose tops were white with snow
in the hottest summer days; Of the
seas of ice, with their hard frozen
ridges of its beautiful clear lakes, on
one of which she and her little brother
had been used to row the fairy bark
of the Chalots, when in their noun
tain rambles, they had been feas,ed on
rural dainties by the hospi,able peas
ants-of the bounding chamois, and
oftheir daring hunters, amongst whom
her brother Theodore, and a young
friend of his, whom she called Horace,
had been foremost; and then she told
how, once returning from long a,i
venturous chase, the friends had
brought her home a little wounded
chaInois--and the children, never tired
Of hearing how she had nursed and
reared, and at last, with success almost
unexampled, bro't to perfect ,amcness,
the wild creature of the mountain !;
and how Horace Vandreul (they had
learned to speak his name and that of
Theodore familiarity had encircled
IS slender elegant neck with a s;uall
silver collar, on which was engraven,
"Jappartiens a Blanche."-[ belong
to Blanche.
Twice since her residence in the
family of Mr.. l., the monotonous
existence Of Blanche had been diversi-
fled by occurrences Of unspeakable
importance to her. Twice had she
received letters from India-volumin-
Gus letters, penned by more than one
hand, though contained in the same
envelope directed by her brother
She wept abundantly over the first of
these packets-over her brothers let
ter-his reply to that in which she
had communicated to him their mu-
tual loss, and her own plans to seek
an honorable subsistence as governess
in some English family. 1t is easy to
conceive the deeply affecting purport
of that fraternal answer. Even from
that fearful distance, the hearts of the
orphans met and mingled. The tears
Of Theodore had blotted the lines, on
which those of Blanche fell as she
read, like summer rain-drops-as free,
as fast, and as kindly, Tightening her
heart of the long-pent-up load of un-
participated grief. But Theodore's
letter contained one written in a diff
ferent handwriting, and though the
tears of Blanche still fell as she pc
rused those characters, they were the
last drops of the shower, through
which sunbeam was already break
ing. Upon the contents Of that pack
ct she might have been said to live
for many weeks--for day after day
her eyes fed upon them, till one of her
little observers asked, in tone OF art
less sympathy, if she was not tired o.
trying to learn all that close long wri.
ting by heart, which had vexed her Sc
much too, at the first reading?
| The seconJ lettare uera ne o,corI,