The daily crescent. [volume] ([New Orleans, La.]) 1848-1851, 1850-12-17

duet 1t has been said that there is something not
disapreeabe TO in the misfOrunes OF our best
friends. II may be 50, for certain it is that Wal
ter's meditaliOns did not end in sadness, though
| their subject Amy Sinclair and all her tri-
ais. He returned home at lfst with quick and
| cheerful step and es he turned to Ike one last
look in the direction of Amy's hone, smile
passed over his face, and he murmured, Happy
yes, happy n prince"
1t was about month after Walters return, at
he close of a fine summers day, that he Induced
Amy to lay aside her brush, and take walk with
him. 1t was lovely evening, and the county
through which they wandered had much beauty
even for a strangers eye; 10 them, for whom some
pleasant e9sociatiOn hung upon every tree, seemed
paradise. In the course of their walk they passed
the old manor house, aud Amy paused to look low
ingly its quiet grounds. Walter watched her
anxOusly, but she turned to him again with er
own kind smile, and said, " Indeed Waller, it is
only for has sake-for my poor fathers sake "
Walters long pent-up feelings found voice at
last, and he told Amy how he had loved her,
though hopeessly, when she rich and happy,
and how he loved her more thousand fold in pow
erty and trouble. Who shall tell how sweetIy
those fond words fell on Amy's carlow the happy
ears rolled silently down her cheeks, the secret
of her deep, yet unconscious love, was revealed
to her heart
1t was late when they returned from their
bic, and Mrs. Morton was sitting with Amys
mother. The rest of the evening passed quietly
yet happily, and Walter whispered to Amy while
lne WIDOWS were L0elr ldre"ellS LOT tle
night, I" We will tell them all tomorrow, Amy
n1y Amy | will come early to help you with
your confessions"
But the morrow came, and Walter did not ap-
pear. AmY's cheek flushed at every sound, and
her heart sunk when hour after hour passed by,
and still he came not. At last old and faithful
servant of Mrs. Morton approaching the
cottage, and Amy forth to meet her but as the
old woman came near, Amy stopped, afraid to ask
what had happened
-
have cruel sorrow to tell you OF My poor
mistress her heart will break She loved him
dearly, and, God knows, did "
Amy returned in silence to the cottage, and the
servant followed her. Mrs. Sinclair up stairs,
and Amy did not call her, but, after quietly closing
the door, bade the woman sit down near her, and
tell her what had happened.
" Poor Master Walter, :" cried the woman who
had been his nurse " he was so noble, so good
Poor Master Walter he is gone ~ and passion
ate burst of tears interrupted her speech. Amy's
face pale marble, but she pressed her hand
upon her heart, and said
What do you mean, nurse Is Walter Morton
dead ?"
Dead - repeated the nurse" dead Yes,
Miss Amy, these eyes have seen him lying pale
and dead. Oh, to his poor mothers agony
lie did not come down to breakfast, and she went
herself to see what allied him. To my dying day
shall not forget her shrek. She found him dead
and cold-her own, her only child !"
The nurse too much absorbed by her own
grief to observe the effect Of her words her lis
tener who sat like one stunned, with dry eyes and
livd lips. Her mind refused to comprehend the
exceeding bitterness of the sorrow that had fallen
upon her, Once twice she passed her hand
across her brow and glanced uneasIy around the
room, but she did not speak. At last, the nurse
said
" | have brought message to you, Miss Amy,
from my poor mistress. She bade me 20 on my
knees to beg you to fulfil her request. She has no
picture OF poor Master Walter will you make one
now ~
"I?-now?n said Amy, as if trying to under
stand what asked of her. Is it not too late
Did you not say he was dead ?'' and she shuddered
as she spoke.
"No, dear Miss Amy, it is not too late. There
he lies calm and beautiful as angel. Dear Miss
Amy, you hope for pity yourself pity his mothers
sorrows, and do what she asks ?'
Paint Walters picture, now-now, when he is
dead That is what you ask, is it not nurse |
will do it, Then with strange, unnatural com
posure, she collected her drawing materials, and
prepared to leave the house, bidding the nurse tell
Mrs Sinclair OF all that had happened
In a darkened chamber of the house, to which
she had so lately welcomed him in health and Joy,
Mrs. Morton watched by the body OF her dead son.
There he lay, pale and still, yet with a smile ling
ering about his white lips--a smile of more than
earthly beauty. BY what strange and sudden
malady his soul had been freed from its mortal
tenement none might tell but that it passed away
Cdlllly, anu WITHOUT hulltIluB, lut ndppy express
sion of the features seemed to testify.
&" My son my son !" whispered the poor widow,
she kissed the closed eyes, all my other chill
dren did the Lord take from me, and then He
called my husband to be with Him, but deemed
tho" should lay me in my grave Thou, too, art
gone, His will be done ~
Again she seated herself beside the bed, weep
ing, " yet not as one without hope" Her chast-
ened heart grew calmer, and many a blessed
thought of that country to which those she loved
was gone, and to which she herself was, as she
trusted, drawing near, glIded across her mind and
comforted her. At length she heard a step the
stairs and raising to ascertain who was coming,
she met Amy Sinclair at the chamber door.
:" Dear, dear Amy" she whispered, "are you
come to do it?
Yes" answered Amy, Z" will do it, but must
be alOne;' and she passed on into the chamber of
death.
There was a hollow sadness in her voice that
had alarmed Mrs. Norton who waited at the door,
listening anxiously, lest any sound should betray
that Amy had over-rated her courage, or that the
first sight of death had alarmed and overpowered
her She little suspected how much had died to
Amy with Walter Morton All was still for a few
minutes, and then she thought she heard low yet
bitter gFsan, but when she opened the door, Amy
already seated at her task, composed and tear
less. Again Mrs. Morton left her, and went down
| stairs to make the melancholy arrangements which
| she knew must claim her attention
None watched the progress of Amy's sorrowlul
task and when, long alter she confessed the tie
| that had bound her to Walter she told but little
of the four days she spent in the chamber of death.
| Something she said Of the gay, mockng sunshine
| that filled the when she drew aside the cur
| tain that she might see his face something of the
| cruel contrast between the merry voices which
| filled the summer air with life and the dreary
| unbToken silence of the little room that was then
| her world. She limited at moments when the pas
| sion of grief conquered her. and she wept in hope
| less agony and again, the calm evening would
| find her kneelng beside him, his cold hand in hers
| praying that her despair might be forgiven, and
| finding some of the comfort she so sorey needed
| The picture was finished, and two days after
wards Walter was laid in his grave. Mrs. Nor
| toms affection for Amy appeared daily to increase ;
| and, in a few weeks, she persuaded Amy and her
mother to take up their abode in her house.
Poor Amy's patient, fathlulspri struggled hard
| against despondency, and she continued her abors
as a miniature painter with the zeal of her former
and happier days. But, alas success did not, as
formerly, attend her efforts 1t might be that her
hand was less sktu it might be that the gay
and thoug htless who had at first found pleasant
way of obtaining character for benevOIenCe, by
| patronizng the pretty young mlnlature-panter had
found some still more interesting object on whom
| to bestow their so-caled charity. Whichever was
the cause, Amys pictures no longer gave satlstaC-
ton and again and again they returned to
her as requiring alteration, even rejected alto
gether These disappointments added last drop
OF bitterness to her cap little thought of by those
who thus heedlessly inflicted pang after Parg a
worn and breaking heart.
Il was about eight months after Walters death.