American Republican and Baltimore daily clipper. [volume] (Baltimore, Md.) 1844-1846, 1844-11-18

dignantly refused by Mrs. Thornton, who knew
all that had happened.
One evening, however, sometime after my
recovery, letter was brought me from him,
insisting on an interview before leaving Amer
lea, forever. He said that life and death de-
pended upon my compliance with his request.
He did not speak of love, but of sorrow and
contriton for the past. Notwithstanding my
many injuries, momentary feelings inclined me
to a compliance with his wishes; but, indignant
virtue rebeled and triumphed over such weak
ness; and | determined to write TO him, and
end all hope, at once. Towards the evening OF
next day despatched the following:
"Mr. Tracey:
81 did not think that you, who had done
me such nexplicable wrong, would now stoop
TO add open insult to injury; for in such light
must view all your attempts to renew an in
terview with one whose honor and happiness
you knowingly and willingly attempted to blast
forever. In the hope that we had forever par
ted, have, until now, spared you all reproach-
suppose me capable of enduring again your
presence, knowing, as | do, that you have
sought my degradation. You have practised
upon my credulity, my inexperience, my sus-
ceptbility of feeling, and thereby induced me
to renderyou the homage due to exalted worth
But the mantle of virtue, assumed to hide the
deformity of vice, has fallen from you, and
would be criminal in my own estimation, if
did not shrink from the reality now presented
to my view.
tremble at the abyss to which your daring
love was continually dragging me. You knew
that had not one wish or feeling that did not
incline to virtue, and yet, you remorselessly
planned the destruction of my temporal and
eternal peace. Go, it is not fit that | should
say more to you. Return to your home, and
perform the duties which no honorable mind
can, under any circumstances, excuse himself
from performing, and thus entite yourself to
my pardon for the wrongs you medtated.-
Know that no act of devotion, however I'M
paralleled, that did not ennoble him who per-
formed it, would meet with the slightest con-
sideration from one whose sympathies are with
the noble, the pure and the good. Enough,
you have proved my weakness, but you also
know my strength. Depart in peace, have
escaped your snare, and can forbear to curse.
Pity is now the only feeling that have for you
pity for weakness that cannot share.
Farewell! | wish you well, but never pre-
sumo to address me again; if you do, your let
ter shall be returned unopened.
EMMA MASON.
| was sincere in what | wrote, and took care
never to meet with Tracey. He soon after
left the country, and my first intimaton of it
was packet of notes returned through the
Post office; the envelope merely containing
these words
81 submit to my fate, and depart in peace to
do your bidding. God bless you. Farewell
but not forever. HENRY TRACEY"
CHAPTER III.
81, al II
strength, and my many advantages, life was
only struggle to endure. had been deceiv-
ed in one who seemed born to redeem his race.
could not love again, and my heart was far
more desolate than when it sighed for feeling
that was unconscious of. l loved my kind,
but it was the love of charity, not that which
springs from sympathy. There was no happi-
ness for me in common with the rest of my
kind | might triumph in the performance of
duty, exult in my success in making others
happy, but still Knocked at the idea of being
happy myself
What was the worst, had no longer an
ideal of existing worth to worship; for that had
been applied to one, faulty and errIng, who
had displaced it forever from my mind; and
this was the objectionable injury he had done.
| could no longer with firm faith cling to any
one in life that could sustain me.
"Oh mani" often in the bitterness of my
heart, exclaimed, ''had'st thou done aught
but prove thyself capable of the little mean
ness of long continued duplicity, by apeing SO
well the virtues which alone could have en-
titled you to my admiration, would not now
be haunted by doubt of all things that seem
fair and good to the eye. might have learn
ed, too, lesson Of good from you; and not all
evil would have been thy influence"
l was alone one morning with my faithful
friend, whose love still chung to and cheered
dependency, when a'svisitor was announced
who desired TO see me below, and what was
my surprise on entering the drawing room, to
find Henry Tracey leaning faint and almost
loo much agtated to stand, against the mantel
piece. He advanced not, and | stood as if ri
Vetted to the spot, without power to move or
% speak.
"Pardon me,' at last he spoke, 81 will not
ask welcome l have come to see you once
nore Five years have not chilled the ardor
Of my feelings, and, free and unincumbered by |
earthly bonds, | come again to offer the love
hat has known no change, and to make hon.
,rable reparation for the past"
The spell that had bound me for years was
broken, and a torrent of mingled emotions |
swept over me, such as had believed crushed |
brewer But, though my frame shook with !
heir force, | gave no further evidence of their
existence.
Seating myself, | motoned him 10 do so
likewise, and, in answer to my inquiries, he
Informed me that his wife had been dead
'ear, that he had performed all his duties to
Ter, and that she had breathed her last bless
ng his name.
But" continued he "my love for you has
cen my only crime, and years of suffering
nd of self-imposed duties have in some mea-
ure atoned for ALL did not wed from choice,
Use had | been faithful-but you will forgive"
lnterrupting him, exclaimed, 'FTalk not to
ne of love again. Thou earnest IN my morn
ng of life, when soaring, thoughts rose high,