Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1851-03-21

,
ought TO excuse such an Insignificant H.
lie meteor as myself and 50 saying. she
made her gay and graceful adieuk, and
passed rapidly up 10 her chamber. almost
as swift and brilliant as The wandering
star Of which she spoke. The light which
she had left burning on her dressing To-
bic in the early part Of the evening. had
fallen down into the socket, and as she
opened the door it wavered a moment n
the current Of air which swept ihrouth
the apartment, and expired The fnoo1-
light came streaming through the open
easement, and directly beneath It pas
sed the balcony with its iron railing and
white stone columns which extended the
entire length the building. Moonlight
was sufficient, at least 'Ora's impatience
could await no other luminary. SO spring
ing through the window, she leaned =
eainst a pillar and tore open the .fifst Of
the epistles without glancing at the sd.
prescription. II was from ST. Auburn-.
filled TO overAowing with the psihos Of
his almost infinite passion, ill the linked
sentences appeared 10 gIeam like tiny
fame-wreaths in the soft moonlight. He
had left L.. on the morning following
the events recorded in the last chaptef.
since that time he had been soiournine
in the city Of B.. with view Of pei.
manently locating himself there-andh he
entreated the sympathy of his betrothed
as be had Just been summoned to the
bedside of his mother (who was danger.
ously ill., and would leave for home ia
one hour.
The young girl pressed the precious
missive TO her lip, her brow, and het
6uttering heart, then gently kneeli19
down beside the snowy column, aIIowed
her angel konl that bIest relief which in
nocence and purity can always find IN 4
grateful orison and gush Of happy tears,
Still knee!ing, and with soft smile dim
pling round the bright lip. yet trembling
and holy with the breath of prayer, she
broke the seal of the remaining letter.
Its terrible, and but vaguely comprehen-
1 ded contents, incoherent and almost IL
legible, were as follows My child yoe
drive me mad Go 10 your aunt's. your
mother-in-law knows all, and you can.
not return 10 me. Marry not the man
! Of whom you speak, or dread the bitter
est malediciioh which can wiiher the
lips Of an almost maniac father. Oht
+ Madelihe-Madeline thou art most.hof-
: ribly avenged Listen, miserable child
Of despsiring father-listen, and curse
: my memory. if you have strength TO 60
: so-Paul ST. Auburn is-yoar fztke's
4 soar itg 81
E The world to Ora Cameron, was. fot
5 one moment, chaos of lurid and COZ.
: tending fame. then came the shadow.
e and all was darkness-the still and ters
q rible darkess Of the soul E
T When the cold gray light Of morning erepI
d up the arches of the sky, they found Be.
7 still, as she had fallen, in that fierce and
b desolating agony, apparently as lifelesss d
: the stony column at whose base she lay. -
The fatal letter was crushed together in be-
.r rigid fngers-the other rested on her frozei
II bosom. The white rose-wreath still bouni
g her sweeping ringlets, but It was very sal
d to see how wan their pale petals glifters;
n through the frost-gems which bad fallen du
ring the night, and lay thickly over be
= snowy gossamer dress and midnight tresses
IS 1t was as though, when she slumbered tE9f
Ig like a dead bride, the Frost-king in his wan
lr derings had claimed her as his own, anl
10 decked her gorgeously for cold and silen
ST bridal. His parting kisses slept oti be
l. white cheek and pallid brow, in many . del
I'd ieate gem for there seemed to be no life
lie whose warmth might chase away those trace
v of his presence Was it IN that freezing hou
ID that sweet Ora Cameron became the Beau
y tiful Icicle 2 8
Is Turn we to another scene, 50 wild, 30 sad
n- that We hasten through it as a child wouli
m hurry onward through darkened passage
ly nor dare to cast backward glance upon ID
oil phantom eyes which he feels are cleaning mi
a the gloom behind him ~ 2
n Four days subsequent to the writing .
he his letter to Ora Cameron, and the same I
~ vening on which she received it, in far dii
tant village, and by the bedside of dyin
X mother, sat Paul St. Auburn. The apar
O. ment was one of three into which the cottag
ng residence was divided small, but luxuriou
en- ly, almost gorgeously furnished. The inv
p- lid slept apparently, for the curtains Of Grin
- son damask were drawn around her eouel
Ter and their heavy silken fringes swept dow
ct upon the glowing carpet. except in one plat
lst where TIE folds lay heaped together, and
lso thin, white arm escaped from the rich DR.
IN perry The small attenuated hand was claspe
am in PauPs, and his warm tears fel over j
ne, white and delicate fingers He bent dow
ian to kiss away the bright drops which ylittcrt
there, like cluster Of gems, and for the fF
are tine in his life, he was struck BY the fac
in that his mothers fingers bore no jeTels-n
up not even the simple wedding ring.
I'VE "She is lovely enough without them,''
IS, murmured, half audibly, again pressing b
Inns upon the almost transparent hand.