Bloomington herald. [volume] (Bloomington, I. T. [Iowa]) 1840-1849, 1841-03-26
From Graham's Magazine.
TIE F.aTHEK,S BLESSL.V'G.
BY MRS. S. A. wHELP LEY.

the wailngs of departed spirits were borne
upon the blast, when Mary LevIngston sat
alone in the solitude of her chamber. Her
lamn was hid in recess at distance, ana
cas,ing it's pale and feeble beams across the
darkened room scarcely disclosed her dropping
firpre. or the tears upon her check. 1t was not
that the fearful tumult without had effected her
imagination, nor the thought that her only
brother might be exposed to all the dangers Of
the coast Something that more deeply touch
ed her happiness awoke her grief. Wild, tu-
multuous thoughts agitated her bosom, and
mccked the storm that shook her easement,
ard roared in. all its fury around her.
The substantial mansion of Mr.. Levingston
was situated in delightful town in New Jer-
sey. Here he had trained up an interesting
and lovely family. Four of his daughters
were married; three of them were settled IN
the same town with their father; the other re-
sided in the city of New York. His only son,
possessing many virtues, but wild and rowing
disposition, had, in opposition to his father S
advice, gone to sea, and had not been seen by
any of his family for four years. Mary Lev
ngston was the sole remaining daughter at
home. She was the sun that lit up her faith
er's dwelling. Swift and light as the fawn
had been her footstep till of late /; when cloud
| had passed over her gentle bosom, and obscu-
| red its brightness. A blast had swept over the
| flower and it was changed; but neither the
| cloud had been seen, nor the blast heard. Then
wherefore this change?
1t was we'll known to Mr.. Levingston's fam
| lily, that strong and bitter alienation Of feel
| inc existed between himself and Mr.. James,
an early, and once dear friend, who, at the time
Of which we speak, resided in New York. So
| 10 W. ky pf
ungrateful acts on the part of this early friend,
that on pain of his everlasting displeasure. he
| had forbidden his children ever associating
with the family. Unfortunately for Mary, du-
ring visit to the city, she had met with
| son of Mr.. James, aud it was not until her af
feclons were unchangeably fixed, that she had
discovered his relationship to the most bitter
en- envy of her father. Admiring Mary at first
sight, and conscious of the enmi,y between the
families, her lover had sought an introduction
10 her under false name, and it was long be-
fore she discovered the truth.
When she did so, however, her determine
ton was soon made. Obedience had been the
law Of her life, and she resolved at once to sac
iice her own feelings, in preference to that Of
her kind fathers wishes. She felt panied
moreover, that her lover should have deceived
| ileT even W "lh ucI dACCilObos SIC lCu Iiou
the scene Of danger; but she cotld not fly
from herself. In her own bosom she carried
the image she had so fondly cherished, and
which had been the object of her waking and
sleeping dreams. TWAS after long struggle,
in which she had almost conquered, that she
received letter-whch had caused her pres
ent grief-wrtten by her sister, and informing
her that her lover was about to sail for Europe,
and asked for a last interview, if only to beg
her forgiveness, and bid her farewell forever.
Il will see him." said Mary "and convince
him there is no hope, and then will return
and confess all to my beloved father and throw
myself upon his mercy. He will not cast me
off when he finds cid no, err knowingly"
She rose from her chair, as she thus spoke,
arranged her dress, and descended to the parlor,
with countenance from which, except to a
suspicious eye, every trace of grief had van
ished.
You must not leave us so long again, my
daughter" said her venerable father, as she
entered the room. ''My home appears almost
| chee.less. unless hear your voice. Sing to
US one of your sweet songs"
"What shall sing, dear father! Shall it
be your favorite. Grace Darling!"
"Not Grace Darling tonight, my love, it is
mournful and tells Of shipwreck and DEATH"
| Well, will sing my own favorite," said
Mary, seating herself at the piano, sit shall be
| my hearts in the Highlands,
My heart is not here.''
| The parents looked at each other and smiled,
as their beautiful daughter struck the keys !;
| for they felt that few beings were as lovely as
their own Mary.
"Dear papa!'' said she atlength, suddenly
I
favor Of you'll am sure mamma will grant
it. Let me 60 to New York next week.
There now, knew you would You are all
throwing her arms around his neck, she kissed
him tenderly.
swell, il mamma gives her consent, sup
pose must give mine. But, dear Mary, don't
come home this time so down-hearted as you
did from the last visit you paid your sister,
There now, since you have got your boon,
play me another song"
Mary felt the blood rush to her very brow at
this chance remark of her father; but turning
around to her piano, she struck into march,
to hide her emotion.
In a few days she set forth to New FORK,
| with heart, vacclating between duty and
love,-determined, however, to permit only
one interview, and then to bid her lover adieu
forever.
"You will have strong advocate in my
wife," said Mr.. Nj to Mr.. James, who
sat on the sofa by Mary Leyingston, the eve
ming of her arrival. "She is resolved, she says,
to return home with her sister hoping she may
be enabled to soften the feelings of Mr.. Lew
ingston toward your father"
81 hope she may prove successful plead
er," said the lover, "and prepare the way for
| my casting myself at his feet when return.
Since have obtained my sweet Mary's for.