Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1844-04-05

soft and deep slumber of innocence and
youth.
For nearly a year had young Grey, pur.
sued her, aided as he vainly imagined by his
costly and tasteful gifts, but there seemed a
magic halo around the young Virginia,
through which no shadow of evil could
penetrate. Besides the native purity and
d~elicacy Of her mind, there were two other
influences at work in the beautiful web OF
her destiny, 10 prevent any coarse or dark
thread from mingIing in its tissue one was
her spiritual communion with her mother,
and the other, her afTectionate remembrance
Of Russell Hartley-the only being in whose
eyes she had ever read the sympathy for
which her lonely and loving heart yearned
always.
1t was evening again. The young ladies'
had assembled, dressed for the ball, in the
drawing-room-all but Virginia. where
is the sweet child I? asked an invalid teach
err, TO whom she had endeared herself by
her graceful and aifectionate attentions.
She was so long helping me and sister
dress said a little shy-looking girl, that she
has been belated.'
Il will go and assist her myself said the
principal of the school, pleased with this
proof of kindheartedness on the part of her
new pupil.
She softly opened the door of Virginia's
room, and almost started at the charming
picture which met her eye. ROBBED in
white, with her singularly beautiful hair
falling in fair, soft curls around her face,
which was lighted up by a smile of almost
rapturous hope and JOY, the young girl stood
IN an attitude of enchanting grace, raising
in both hands to adjust, amid the braids be-
hind, a half wreath of glowing richly tinted
autumn leaves.
Let me arrange it for you, my child
SAID the lady approaching, and Virginia
bent her fair head nodestly to her bidding,
and then, hand in hand, they descended TO
the drawing room. Many of the company
had arrived-the doors leading to the bali
room had been thrown open, and Virginia
was almost dazzled by the splendor Of the
scene into which she was thus suddenly
ushered. She blushed beneath the eyes that
were rivited upon her as she passed.
AN angel! "a grace 7 "A musep whis-
pered the gentlemen to each other. There
was one among them-a noble, chivalric-
looking man-who did not speak his admi-
rationl An inde6nable something in the
heavenly beauty Of that face had touched, in
his soul, a chord which had not vibrated for
many years. Virginia knew him at once.
The rich chestnut curls of the boy of twenty
had now assumed a darker tinge, the eyes a
somewhat softer fire, and the youthful and
flexible grace had given place to a manly
dignity of mein but there was no mistakinp
the soul in the glance of Russell Hartley.
And Virginia was decidedly the belle Of
the ball. Gay, but gracefully so, for her
sportive mood was softened and restrained
by a charming timidity that enhanced her
loneliness ten fold, she looked and moved
like one inspired. She had met Hartley's
admiring gaze; she was almost sure he
would ask an introduction, and she felt as
if her feet and heart were suddenly gifted
with wings. She foated down the dance
like a peri through the air, and then Russell
approached and was introduced.
The sunny smile of the little match.girl
shone in her eyes, as she accepted his arm
for a promenade. Surely l have seen that
look somewhere before ? he exclaimed, half
aloud. Matches ! matchesl six for a ftp !
murmured Virginia, looking archly up in
his face, and the mystery was at once ex-
planned.
imogen Grey's diamond necklace was
worthless dross in comparison with the
wreath Of autumn leaves, which Hartley laid
beneath his pillow that night, and ali her
brothers costly offerings could not have
purchased the smile which accompanied the
gift.
Reader, if you ever go to Kentucky,
come to me for a letter of introduction to
Mrs. Russell Hartley. She is looked up to,
respected and beloved by all the country
round, and | am sure you will enjoy her
graceful and cordial attention, and the lux
uries of her elegant home, all the more for
remembering that the distinguished and
dignifed woman TO whom you are making
your very best bow, was once the little
match-girl of my story.
Graham'S Magazine.