Boon's Lick times. [volume] (Fayette, Mo.) 1840-1848, 1842-04-23

could be prevailed on TO leave her new-found
friend; but at the earnest entreaties of Ida
to leave her to repose, she at length con.
sen ted. Ida lay still in bitter misery; her
hearts best hope was gone. To know he
had loved another was madness; 10 believe
he still loved her was torturing agony;
and Ida allowed herself to doubt he remem-
bered that Lucille Bcranger existed; but
she was deceiving herself; Ferdinand Be-
resiord loved with earnest devote dness his
beirothed Lucille. He was not 10 blame;
ne had acted nobly to his parents; he had
told them he loved his tutors daughter, and
resolved, on attaining his majority, to wed
her. lie was answered by taunts, threats
and reviings; forbidden 10 hold the least
communication with his betro,hed, and Fl.
naIIy thrown, by the consummate art OF
his sister, Lady Vesey, into the society of
Ida lIderton, to wean his thoughts from the
young French maiden. All their efforts
failed; he burst their chains asunder, but il
was too late. The letter announcing 10
Lucille his faithfuIness, his continued love,
reached lis destination two DAYS after she
had quilted her home, and was never an.
swered. He wrote again thrice, but no IL
dIngs Games I'll! at length lie received his
letter back, with the mournful news that
his old preceptor was dead and his once
happy daughter voluntary wanderer in
other lands. Here all intercourse ceased,
and Ferdinand Beresrord mourncd over his
iaithless Lucille.
1t was impossible for him to recognize in
the wandering Harpiste his (avorite compan-
loni her voice bore no resemblance to that
Of the young French girl; i, was mourniul
and that Of Mademoisele Beranger was
glad and joyous; while in her Disgusting at
tire, under the clouds Of night, he could no,
suppose for one instant the lovely face and
syIphIlke form of Lucille were conceal
ed; but still the tones of the harp recalled
her to his mind; and it was the knowledge
OF the anguish he himself had endured,
which prompted him to wish happiness to
Ida. Little did he dream he was the being
on whom her happiness depended; he loved
her as brother loves, but nothing more.
1t was night. dark, gloomy, dc,oatc night,
to such hearts as lda's; bu: it was day,
bright joyous sunshine-to the e1Pectant
Lucille. The lamp shone brightly, the
Jewels spanked gay, and, harp in hand,
she stood beneath the centre chandelier OF
the magnificent drawing-room where Ida
sat in desostion, to meet for the last time,
Ferdinand, her idolized Ferdinand. 1t
was late when he entered, with smile on
his lip, and a sparkle in his eyc, as elegant,
as polished as monarch need be; and rs
: the first tone of his voice fell on the ear Of
lucille, she sprung forward, and IN mo-
ment the parted lovers were closely wrap
ped in each others embrace. pass over
the scene so painful TO Ida; to feel 7he loved,
but in vain-and in despair TO hear the
word of love-to hear the tale OF long
remembered days gone by, was more than
lda's heart could bear, and she could only
bless them, and bid them farewell.
Three weeks after this, a ma-riaz. ap-
j peared in the Morning POST" celebrated
= first at St. James, PicadiIIy and afterwards
at the Catholic Chapel, Warwick street,
Golden Square, it was the marriage Of Fer
dnand Deresford and Lucille Deranger
And immediately below that, were these
= WordS:-
/ died, Of rapid decline, Ida, the beloved
and only child Of Horace llderion, in the
10Th year of her age" She was dead;
her heart was broken; and in the long white
u fingers, cold and stuff; lay the faded rosebud
given by one who was that day welded.