Daily evening star. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1852-1854, 1853-04-26

more to mel nought to him; I strove to
forget him. But when I thought of his no.
BILE soul, his generous nature, and turned to
the fawning sycophants at my feet, any one
of whom would have showered gold upon
me one day-and scorned me in my rags
and misery the next, hated myself even
for the power possessed.
''Let me pass over the years in which I
grew Injured to praise-became accustomed
to the 1attery of fools, and the admiration
of wise men-let me pass over those years
when wealth was mine, and beauty smiled
upon me.
eugene was still engaged in his voca-
ton. He did not marry, and when heard
from him they told me he was growing thin,
pale, consumptive.
81 dared not think upon it; neither did
dare believe that my idolized mother was
dying day by day. gave her wealth; her
home was a palace; her room was hung
with crimson drapery; her mirrors costly;
her couches of satin. But the crimson
deepened the red on her cheek; the mirrors
gave back the uDearthly light of her eyes
yet would not believe she could die, and
leave me alone.
"But oh! death claimed her in that home
of luxury; and one pale morning found
her on her couch of satin-dead.
'My mother! oh! but it was hard,
hard trial to me-" she said, mournfully;
great tears standing in her eyes.
"Never did loathe my profession so
much as when stood by that open grave.
Oh, for the humblest home, where I might
60 in some dark corner. and weep my life
away. But no! must be dragged from
the tomb to the stage; 1 must smile in
bridal mockery when funeral pail hung
over my heart 1 must wear flashing
diamonds, move in the glare of glittering
lights, lance to joyous music, look happy!
happy when my very soul was stepped in
bitterness And the jest, the laugh-oh!
you have heard them often from a broken
heart, butyou knew it not; you heard them
last night, and you little dreamed that it
was so like jesting from an open sepul-
chre."
81 thought you the happiest of the
happy murmured Marie, much affected by
the narrative
"lt is only year since my brother died
and left me alone. Last night was dressed
for my part; [ sat in the green room;
letter was put into my hands, written in hi,
dying moments. Eugene then was dead;
he whose memory had cherished, the only
person ever loved, laid that hour in his
shroud. Never can express my feelings
to you, and yet you are no child. 1 dared
not weep-but tears hot and burning would
rush to my eyes. And in the midst of all
that misery my part came, and went out,
crushing back the strong emotions of NV
heart. There I stoed-you saw me; gems
upon my forehead-upon my arms. In
that blaze Of splendor dared not look sad.
Every strain of that great orchestra struck
against my heart-every burst of applause
sent the tears swelling up, and still dared
not weep.
''They told me did my best last night
heavens had they known the frenzy in my
step-the madness in my laugh. After the
first act sought the green room, locked
the door, and threw myself down in an
agony of sorrow. / must weep, must
mourn or die; had you seen me thenl
And again, when my time came, dashing off
the tears-with throbbing temples and
trembling hand, re-painting my pallid
cheeks-replacing the tarnished Jewels
pressing back the struggling grief-coming
before that grand, great assembly, and
ministering to its pleasure with my poor,
torn heart bleeding at every pore,-would
you have said as you did, ooh! what q
glorious life it must be "a life Of un-
ceasing happiness? No! you would shrink
from it as from pollution; you would die,
rather"
''Oh, Marie! pray to your God to keep.