The Lancaster ledger. [volume] (Lancaster, S.C.) 1852-1905, 1853-02-02

They are all here" she said, Eyes, eve
ry one, from the rich bandeau, which was
to have been the price Of my soul, to the
little circlet first clasped upon my ARM
They are all here, and the advertisements
Tomorrow morning will tell me where |
may find him. Heaven grant my suspic-
ions may not be confirmedw
Williams and Marion exchanged glanc-
es.
"You are doubling my sanitym said
Mrs. Tracy. "The owner of this wealth
was once known to me. BE silent respect
ing it; l will return it to him." and she
added, more to herself than to them-"it
may be my own again, but will accept
nothing from his hand, no, If he offered
me all this wealth, l would accept nothing
unless his forgiveness and blessing accom-
panied the giftI" and returning the jewels
again to their place in the casket, and not
withstanding the visible spring was brok-
EN-, tightly fastened the lid, Marion and
Williams could no: conceive how.
1t was not until she had deposited the
box in secretary and locked the drawer,
that the strange expression passed away
was but partially composed,
"Henry" she said, II must have
painting; it must be large and beautiful
thing, and it must be completed before
Christmas evening. Take your pencil
and sketch while describe to YOU"
The young man sat down by Mrs.
Tracy and endeavored to put on paper the
scene which she pictured to him in terms
which surp ised both Marion and himself,
and he paused often in his task to gaze
on that flushed, nervous countenance,
which he had before seen only dignied
and composed.
''The sketch is perfect now!" said Mrs.
Tracy, as, when an hour had passed aw v,
she took the paper in her hand, and add
ed few lines to the drawing. "Can you
finish the.painting before Christmas!"
Williams promised to make the at
tempt.
"And have you nothing more to say to
me, madam" he added, "in relation to
the subject Of which we spoke an hour
sincel"
"Yes" said the lady, If the painting is
such as ] expect it will be, and if it effects
the purpose which hope it will accom-
plish, your request shall be granted,-
Marion shall be yours on Christmas even
ing"
The week had passed away, and it was
Christmas night. The bright stars locked
down from the clear, blue heaven as sweet
and lovingly as on that night when
strange and glorious luminary was added
to their host, and the winter wind held
back its ruder breath, and in low, gentle
tone whispered the song chantcd so long
ago on the hills Of Judea, but whose
echoes shall only deepen rs they pass
down time, till each mountain, and valley,
and plain, each wilderness and each desert
isle, all lands and all seas, and,-Great
Heaven, l thank Thee!-each human
heart shall join in the deep chorus, out
voicing all discordant notes-"Glory to
God in the highest, peace on earth, and
good will to men,"
An old man looked out from his win
dow, up to the calm, bright heaven, and
over the city (in whose suburbs he lived)
now so brilliantly illuminated. His eye
was dim, and that old, broken garret win
dow was darkened with the dust and cob
webs Of years, but he could see the stars
twinkling 20 each other to him they SEEM
ed not smiling on the earth, at least they
were not smiling on him,-they were far
off and cold, and their brightness and JOY
but deepened the darkness and gloom in
his soul. He could see, too, yes, though
his eye was DINNER than it had ever been
before, he could look into the dwellings
so brilliantly lighted, he could see the
gorgeously decorated apartments, even
through those thick, heavy curtains, and
the gay and happy assemblages there con-
vened; he could mark the costly attire
and the display Of gold and precious stones;
the Christmas tree, with the rich and
varied fruits hanging from its pendant
boughs; the festoOns Of evergreen which
had been made to hang on the wall, and
to yield product nature had not taught
the plant to give. He could hear, though
his ear had lost the acutencss Of youth,
the songs Of joy and mirth; the voices of
the light hearted children, as they cluster
ed around the tree, peering in among the
green branches, to see whose name was
marked on the beautiful toy which gleam-
cd like a jewel in the bright light, and
begging papa to make the boughs let fall
the fruits which seemed so entirely to have
reached perfection. In the pauses Of the
gay dance he heard, blended with music
and song, the whispered words Of affection
Of maturer and happier. but still youth
ful hearts; and in the countenances Of
those, even, whose furowed brows and
silvering hair told that lie for them was
almost over, there was q smileof deep and
quiet JOY, a look which said there was less
regret for the past, than comfort in the
present and hope for the future.
The poor old man! there was no look
on his brow which told Of sympathy, and
his ebbing pulse beat not once in unison