The northern galaxy. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1844-1848, 1844-09-18

her mind and draw it from the contemplation
of the terrible calamity which had destroye'
her dawning hopes of happiness, and the
succeeded sufficiently to implant in her MINI
distaste to the idea of returning to her lat
abode.
Week after week passed, until months wer
numbered, and she began to think it was he
duty to remain with her parents. She wa
their Youngest child. and the only one with
out ties which severed them in measur,
from the the parental roof.
"Elen, my darling" said her father, wher
she spoke of returning home, ''you will no
again forsake u.s. We are old and you ar,
the only child who is free to remain with US
You must live here-I cannot think of per
hitting you 10 return to that lonely home Of
yours"
alt is lonely" replied Ellen; 'and feai
that after breaking through my usual habits
l shall find it difficult and wearysome to re-
sumo them. Yet, my dear father, if l con-
sent to remain, there is one request which
must make
what is it, my daughter? Are we moi
ever mindful of your wishes 7"
"Ah, yes, my dear father, more mindful
than deserve. But"-aDd her voice sank
to low agitated whisper-"there must be
no looking forward to a second marriage for
memo attempt to alter my views on that
subject. | have made vow to the dead and
it must be kept sacred"
What" exclaimed her father, "was Sin
clair ungenerous enough to exact from you a
promise not to marry again l-young and in-
experienced as you we're tool"
"Ah! no, father-wrong him not. He
f4n ,Abl 10 lad
made it voluntarily and as the words left my
lips his spirit departed. Oh no my father,
neve: ask me TO break that vow-it is hal
lowed one."
well my darling let it be as you wish. l
shall prefer keeping you with us; but at the
same time, if you should ever meet with one
you can love, and who is worthy of you, it
will be very silly to suffer few words utter
ed when you were scarcely conscious Oftheir
meaning to prevent you from making the
home of an honorable man happy. Why,
child, you are only now nineteen. Do you
suppose that the death Of one person, bowev-
er dear, can chill all your feelings into ice at
that age!"
II must then in sincerity of soul pray to
be delivered from temptation" said the young
widow, with faint smile, ''for shall never
marry again"
As time passed on, Mrs. Sinclair could not
help acknowledging that she was far happier
than in her mountain solitude. Her spirits
were no longer wearied; she no longer felt
that life was a burden she would gladly lay
down. She needed the excitement of society,
and the social and highly cultivated neighbor
hood in which her fathers residence was sit
uated, afforded every facility for its enjoy
ment.
The third year of her widowhood was draw
ing to a close, when she received an invitation
TO the marriage of favorite cousin, who
would take no refusal. Ellen replied that il
the bride would excuse her sombre dress and
pensiye face she would attend, and the con-
cession was hailed as an omen of future sue
cess in drawing her into that world she was
so peculiarly fitted to adorn.
There was a motive for these efforts of
which Ellen little dreamed. She regularly
attended the church near her fathers resi-
dence, and her mother had several times call
ed her attention to a remarkably handsome
man who sat in pew nearly opposite to them;
but she had not remarked that his eyes fire.
quenty wandered from bis prayer book to her
own fair face. His height, and the turn Of
his head had reminded her of Sinclair, but
there the semblance ceased. The broad brow,
finely chisled features, and clear dark eye of
the stranger, were all unlike the youthful
bloom of him who had won her young affec
tons. She frequently heard Mr.. Peyton
spoken Of as man Of distinguished endow-
ments, " no had spent several years in the
south of Europe with an only and beloved
sister, for the benefit Of whose health the
journey had been vainly undertaken. These
circumstances had nearly passed from her
mind when she was introduced to him at the
wedding as the intimate friend of the groom.
Peyton had fallen in love with her from his
casual view of her at church, and the elogi
UNI of his friends affinanced bride, who look
ed on Mrs. Sinclair as a Upright particular
STAR" had deepened the impression. The
circumstances Of her marriage threw ro-
mantle interest around her history, and when
he looked on her youthful brow with shade
OF placid pensveness that seemed to breathe
a hallowed charm over her beauty, he felt that
she was the only woman he had ever known,
before whom his heart could bow with the
homage of affection.
Yet how to speak of love to one who still
wore the deepest mourniDg-whon never join
ed in the mirth ofthe light Itwould
seem almost like sacriege to breathe into her
ear the wild passions that filled his heart, yet
its very hopelessness appeared to add to its
fervor.
But ere long a new hope dawned OH him.
Ellen was surrounded by the gay and the
joyous. Her disposition vas naturally buoy
ant; her spirits rose; the chord she had be
lieved forever snapped, again thrilled to the
touch of JOY. When the bonds grief were
once severed the reaction was complete. She
still reverenced the memory Of her first love,
and if her heart had whispered that she could
ever be faithless to his ashes, she would have
shuddered with superstitious horror at the
thought. The possibility of breaking that SOL
emn promise had never occurred to her
out time teaches many strange lessons.
Peyton fingered in the neighborhood con-
slant visitor at Wycombe, but his attractions
were not sufficiently marked to attractthe OBJ
servation of others. Her own family were
too DESTROYS of the match to hazard the final
success of the lover by abiding in any man.
neF to his passion for her.