The Middlebury register. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1850-1882, 1851-08-20


looked through the rich drsperied windows
of tba, costly library, and learned good
lesson
On the gorgeous couch of that magnificent,
covered dead one morning, as the light
slreamed in IRON the windows opened by
servant!
What now avaied the siaiesman's hopes
or disappointments? What mattered it to
him that there was no longer Duke of Ae-
incourt ?-thdt bis political career had been
glorious 10 the end when he lay surround
ed by hired watchers? What could he care
for waving plumes and emblazoned insignia?
OF what value 10 him now was bis coronet
cleaning on its velvet cushion ?-he could
have no satisfaction in the list of titles that
decorated his coffin lid. There he lay
stretched out " in state" and curious gazers
came and wondered at the gorgeous num-
merry
One soft summers evening, when Nature
and Natures children made holiday, VIXEN
birds murmured their vespers in the hedge
rows, and the haymakers came homewnrd
singing, a plain travelling carriage stopped
at a turnpike near the village of Limewood,
and the positions, asking their way 10 the
Lines, we're directed down roa ad shaded bv
the fire trees, whence The property took lis
name. The carriage con ntained the Duchess
of Agincourt, and her invalid daughter Lady
Ellen.
II was a sequcstered village, very beauti-
full, and, from its sheltered aspect, well suit
ed to the dropping plant the poor mother
brought here for change of air. The Du-
chess had been happy here in her youth.
She had passed many years of early girl
hood at the Reciory with her uncle it wa.
in the old churchyard she had first met Hen
ry Nugent. In after years she was wont ia
say there had been something ominous in
their presentation to each other in that little
world Of death and graves Il and there under
the old yews they had parted. The old rec.
tor had long since been gathered among the
dead in the church yard.
Day had not yet faded, and the Duches,
sat at The open window of her quiet draw,
ling-room, gazing sadly on the dim out.
line of the ivied tower of the village church
The little Lady Ellen lay on couch moan
ing in her sleep. Slow tears chased eacl
other down the Duchcss's cheek she could
do nothing to alleviate the pangs of the suf
ferer.
"May come in ?" said child's voice a
the window.
1t was little girl of eight years old tc
whom Lady Ellen had taken fancy in he
walks. The nurse only knew she was the
Rector's grand.daug hter. The young inva
lid started and, awoke at the sound Of hei
lplaymale's voice, and asked for flowers ant
some toy which she had promised her. Ma
ry, that was the only name Lady Eller
knew her by, held rich cluster of rose,
over her---the sick child laughed and spranI
up with eager hands 10 seize the fragrant Of
fering, the outstretched arms fell listlessl,
down, a sudden spasm convulsed the features
there was gasp, feeble cry, and the
Duchess, sprnging forward. caught her chile
to her bosom. She parted the sunny hail
from the tense brow,
They brought lights-the sweet eyes wert
closed in death.
The old Rector came TO see the sorrow
stricken Duchess. lie grieved he said, lha
his daughter was now absent from home, bu
he looked for her return ere long. The af
hcted mother would hear much from BIZ
then, seeing that bis efforts at consolation
were scarcely heard, he departed.
The Duchess Of Agincourt looked Out a
cross the garden and upon the fields beyond
The old chimes in the ivicd tower struck
nine Mary's tiny form intercepted the twi
light for Il minute. The little girl looked
earnestly in the lady's eyes. The, were
swollen with weeping, and fresh tears burs
forth at the sight Of the buoyant child be-
fore her The graceful, wealthy Duches.
and the little rustic had been acquainted
barely month, and now a strong tie linked
the deso.ate mother with the child.
Side by side under the oil yews with Ma
ry sat the once ambitious Mande All, what
had ambition brought her? Wealth she
cared not for il, for she had never known
fba Of NI I IL Io..o
Exchanged her corohet for loving heart
her fine estates for the humblest roof with
the sweet influences of domestic peace and
love.
As she mourned beside her dead child:
? grave, she heard in the silence of the sum.
mer night, the Reclory gale turn upon lis
hinges. On what triAes arc old memories
often hung The sound brought back some
of her earliest associations. How often she
had listened for il at that very hour when
Henry Nugcnt, after seeking her in her un-
cle's study, would come 10 meet her under
the yews.
Footsteps approached her. Papa" ex.
claimed Mary, "we are here" The Duchess
rose--ihere was not light enough TO see a!
once the features of the intruder on her sol
i'ude, but the voice was Henry Nugent's.
And thus once more they stood face to
face in the solemn stiffness of the old church
yard Once more they met among the
graves, but not as they had done Of old.
4 4 n
proud love again now his paths had lain far