Lincoln telegraph. [volume] (Bath, Me.) 1836-1846, 1841-11-18


ing Of the stale of society beyond the limits of
Woodburn. lie had never been more than TWEEN
ty miles from home during his whole life.
But he was now eighteen, and Florence was
only year younger. They had ceased to be
boy and girl She, indeed, would have been
contented to have continued as she was for ever,
best with her fathers and lover S affection more
than happy in the discharge of her domestic du-
ties; in her summer evening rambles, in her
books, her bees, her fruits. and her flowers. Bnt
Edmund, although he loved her with all the en-.
thusasnl of first love, had more ambition in his
nature. He wished 10 mingle in the crowd, in
the pursuit of glory and he had hopes that he
might outstrip at least same of his competitors.
Beside, he was not possessed of an independent
fortune and exertion, therefore, became duty.
His resolution was at once formed; he deter
mined 10 fix his residence in London, for at least
couple of years, and ascertain whether, in truth,
ability there is own reward. 1t was sad
news to Florence; but on reflection on the advan-
tages which Edmund might derive from the exe-
cuton Of the scheme, she looked upon her grief
as selfish, and endeavored to restrain it. The
evening before he left Woodburn, they took a
farewell walk together in her fathers garden
Florence had succeeded in keeping up show Of
cheerfulness during the day but as the yellow
beams of the setting came streaming in
through the poplars and elms that lined the wall,
and as she thought how often they had seen the
sun set before, and how long it would be ere they
should see it set again,a chord was touched which
vrbrated through her heart, and she could no
longer restrain her tears. Edmund besought her
with the utmost tenderness of manner, not to
give way to emotions violent; but she only
locked his hand more firmly in her own, and, a.
mid the convusive sobs, repeated again and again
edmund we shall never meet more lam not
superstitious, but | know that am right we
shall never meet more - Her lover had recourse
to every soothing argument he could think of !;
but thought she at length became calm, gloomy
prese ntment of future evil seemed to have taken
possession of her mind
year had elapsed, and Edmund early dream
had been more than realized. He had risen into
fame at once his reputation as man of genius
wac acknowledged throughout his native land
become illustrious Every where was his society
courted and his opinions listened to with defer
ence and admiration. There seemed to be no hon.
to which he might not cope to attain His ar
dent spirit. and his growing ambition became
only the more unsuitable. Every difficulty had
yielded before him he had flown on upon the
wings of success; his life had hitherto been a
brilliant dream-a dream from which he saw no
prospect of immediate awakening.
1t was evening, and he alone in her splen-
did drawing room with the loviest woman in
London-the daughter of viscount. A hundred
lamps, reflected by hundred mirrors, shone a.
round them. There was to be u magnificent
entertainment, but the company had not yet ar
rived. Edmund, and the lady Matilda would not
have cared had they never arrived at all. They
sat near each other, and talked in low, soft tones
of all that youth and beauty love best 10 talk about
Edmund had never felt so vain in his life before;
for there were hundreds in the metropolis, blest
with all the advantages of ranl, and birth, who
would give both their titles and their fortunes to
have secured one of those smiles which the proud
maiden now lavished upon him. And she-she
had read his works, she thought of his fame, she
looked upon his elegant form and handsome fea-
lures, and forgot the hundred scons of nobility,
who had offered up their incense at her shrine -
carriage was heard to stop, and they were soon
to be interrupted ~ have taken fancy to that
emerald ring of yours said the lady Matilda
''will you exchange it for of mine - She
took a glittering diamond from her finger, and
put it on Edmunds and at the same time his
emerald became one of the ornaments of the
prettiest hands in the world. 1t was a ring which
Florence had given him, the very morni ng he left
Woodburn.
| The two years he was to be away had expired
difference" said her father to her one morning,
81 never saw you looking so well, your cheeks
are all roses, my sweet girl; have you been
watching the sun rise" Florence turned away
her head for moment, to brush burning tear
from her eye, and then answered cheerfully to
her unsus pecting father, that she had the
sun rise. There not person in WOODBURY.,
except her father, who had not observed how
dreadfully Florence was altered-not in her man.
ners, nor habits, nor conversation; but in her
looks Her cheek, it is true, was red, but it was
the hot flush OF fever; her eye bright, but
it was the clearness of an insidious malady.
She had heard of Edmund's success, and there
was not a heart in the world that beat so proudly
at the intelligence but she soon heard of more
than his success, and his letters became fewer
h.. (o4l r.