The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1854-07-20

head, making him 10 look much older than he
Is. 1t is impossible to contemplate him with
out interest. His noble brow denotes q COM
manding intellect and there is in his demean.
or something that indicates consciousness
Of superiority sadly contrasting with the posi-
ton he occupies. He is not well dressed, it is
true, but that is rather because his clothes and
neckerchief are put carelessly on, than because
| they are worn. Nevertheless an air of pentil-
ity-faded, it is true, but unmistak able-dis.
tinguishes bis general air and carriage. There
are in tho young woman strong traits of re-
| semblance to him, and something, besides,
milder and different, which she takes from one
who is no more. Possibly Martin catches
some old expression in her countenance with
which he is familiar, and which calls up some
image In his mind for tear glistens in his
eye and presently rolls down his cheek. But
the emotion is transient or stifed, and she does
not notice IL.
II is remarkable how her presence seems to
have Frightened up the den. 1t produces the
effect OF sudden gleam of sunshine on o
murky day. Everything appears to be inbued
with new life and the den has ceased to look
gloomy.
Really papa,n observes the young girl,
after q pause In the conversation, !" never
come here without wondering how you can
like to live in such toad hole"
"Lisette, pet, don't like IT'D replies he.
aThen why do it y she asks.
"Im used to it, now he rejoins; ano one
but you comes to see me, or cares about me.
] don't care about going to see anybody. And
| as and my friends agree 80 far, see no ne
cessity of changing my abode for better"
| But it is 30 miserable, papa DEAR
"Well, it might be less 60, admit but that
depends upon taste Pm used to it now, Lisette,
pet Pm used to il, and don't mind it, I should
have done 80, once, perhaps
A cloud passed over his brow She per-
| ceiyed il.
"Papa,n she exclaimed, cheerfully, "my
birthday viii be here in few days"
GOOD bless you, love" murmured he, fer
vently.
"You know depend upon you to beau me
| outn
az will not disappoint you, darling
"All day, mind from nine in the morning"
| "At what hour you please; and we will be
quito happy
"Gay as larka,o he adds; but how sadly.
II is clear that he promises to be gay for her
sake, not because he anticipates pleasure for
| himself
al hope you will not have any of your hor-
rid law business to attend to on that day,
papsn
He hopes SO too. He will try to manage
| otherwise.
| And SO they settle il, and chat o good while
about what thcy shall do, and where they shall
go, on the great holyday they are going to
make Before they have done, they have drawn
| out quite programme which they agree must
be carried out in every detail, or the holyday
| will be q failure. Never was so much pleasure
got up beforehand.
Still the cloud on bis brow is not chased
| away by this CLEAN of sunshine, and the tear
which he attempts to suppress forces its way
| out, in spite of him, and falls on her hand as
| she caresses his check.
aPapa, dear papa" she says, and kisses him,
"why do you shed tears, always, when come
| to SEQ youi"
"They are tears of JOY, love-" he says, taking
fort in all my troubles; and that is, a dutiful,
afFectonate child 1t is for you, pet, | live, and
toll, and strive. You shall be rich again, some
| day-some day.o
The cloud is darker now; and tho holy namo
he has pronounced sounds strangely from such
Ups.
81 wish, papa, you would not dwell so on
| that idea" she responds, and, oh I! with how
bright smile ~ am sure it is that makes
You SO gloomy and sad. | do not care to be
rich, ever"
at is all my fauls--my fault" he continues.
But it shall be repaired. have grievously
wronged thee, my child; dissipated thy inherit
ance, turned against me all my friends; and
| see what am, and to what ana reduced. But
| the day will come when thou shalt be done
Justice TO-"
@Don't, papa, there's dear, take on 30
about mel /" she answers" do not want for
anything; Pm very happy, indeed am; and if
| could only see you more cheerful, and better
of, | think should desire nothing more on
earthn
He knows her heart is speaking; but though
| her words are honey, they are NORWOOD and
gall TO his conscience. Hc gazes at her thin
face. and strokes her transparent hand, and
notes the bright eye, and the hectic spot on her
check which the excitement OF the moment has
called up. He remembers her mother, and o
strange sensation of vague apprehension comes
| den chill. "And then, papa" she adds, the
doctor saws am 30 much better that l can
now dispense with my morning walk to Ia Pc
tfte Provence. am glad of that, because you
see it took up so much time, and could not
work. Now / am getting strong again, shall
come to see you oftener, and put your place to
rights; but you must promise to be more cheer
| full, will you not?"
/ He win try. His first attempts do not
promise well, however, for the tears course one
another rapidly down his cheeks, and the sad
| expression of his countenance is deepened. He
embraces her, over and over again; and, as she
sits fondIng him, she wipes away his tears and
her own.
! at does me good, pet, to shed tears" he
SAYS. When am alone, do not cry like this
But It ightens my heart when they come, and
| am q better man for them, for days after
Still, it is hard to feel that one has not friend
in the world"
aPapa.u she exclaims, gravely, and some
what sorrowfully, "God is left to all. DO you
ever pray, papaa"
The question startles him. He does not
answer. She speaks again, in lower ana more
serious tones. :,
i "You must try to do 80, papa, and you viii
be happier. have been near to deaths door
and have felt how little, after all, we have &c
live for in the world. Our good pastor visits
me very often, and directs my thoughts to the
world beyond, of which we hear 80 much said
and which seems to inspire people with vague
terror of death. But think could die, papa
without any fear.n It is his turn to exhort
He entreats her not to dwell upon that subject
She is his only hope and comfort; and if he
lost her, he must die too.
Il aYou do not know, love" he adds, "the days.
and NIGHTS of anxious watchings passed du
r;nc that long, long illness of yours. And, oh
h hos bitterly then did reproach myself that
throueb INV own madness and folly, had lost
4 the means of ministering to your thousand
wants. They tried to keep me from you, but
r was of no use and now you are better-yes
Won ara better. are you not, love 7
She am;lea. and answers afirmatively.
1T--.-7 -, botkar y,cuch better ~ he con