Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1854-08-23
RALEIGH, NORTH CAROLINA, W EDNEsDAY,

the Ambassadress the strange eyes t
whose spell no mortal could resist, and how v
she held her own separate court of the most f
noble women and the most powerful men
in all the realm. These five years in Eng S
land were the proudest of Edith's life
but we need not tread their paths by her
side, our story leads US otherUhere. t
All these years, there was little, pa i
tient girl YEARLY studying in the most
fashionable boarding school in New Eng
land. When her teachers praised her sue t
cess, she would turn away with thankful g
tears, saying to herself: Perhaps if am
dilgent maj anna will love me better when (
she comes back again. Dear mamma !
How l wish [ was pretty enough for her {
to love!
And yet, with all her humility, aer en-
tire lack Of selfappreciation, never before
had there been so universal a favorite as
Aymee De Wilton. Contrary to all estab-
Gshed precedents, the teachers pet was al
so the scholars darling. It was during
Aymee's last year at school, and about
three months before she was to receive her
diploma, that an event occurred which was
destined to influence all her future. It
was but seldom that Madame D'Arblay
permitted any of her pupils to appear in
public, but on this occasion there was to
be lecture from one whose writings had
already electrified half the world High |,
ly refined, emineutly poetical, and strictly
moral in their tendency, these works had
become very popular in the seminary, with
Madame's fullest appreciation. But among
the whole circle of youthful enthusiasts
there was not one whose praise was SO sin
cere, whose admiration was so intense as
that of Aymee. His very name was a
spell-word to kindle her eyes aud make her
heart beat quicker.
When Madame D'Arblay, whose old
! friend the lecturer and author CHANGED to
be, announced the forthcoming lecture to
her pupils, the school rose en- naasse, with
a clamorous petition that they might all be
present. Nothing 10th to obtain an acces-
sion of popularity at so small sacrifice,
Madame smilingly consented, and at an
early hour she entered the lecture-room
with her pupils.
There was deep, breathless hush when
Walter Hines advanced upon the stage
} The house was thronged with the elite and
, present who had not read his books and
) formed preconceived opinion of the au-
7 thor. His appearance was magnetic. AS
he made his graceful salutation, the house
d d yga Tp4 5 H Has 4agdE noe a sa nd
there was no faultless regularity of features
have fascinated the eyes of sculptor. He
, was very slight in figure, with firmly knit
/ muscles, and rather tall. His forehead
was broad and full, and the hair which
waved over it, dark chestnut the eyes
those magnetic eyes-were large and al
e mond-shaped. In hue they were like the
lapis-lazuli, and in expression-but you
a could not describe that, for it changed with
a every thought. Never were there eyes,
e through which the soul talked more clear
e ly. His nose, too, with its thin, expan
|. sive nostril, was capable of almost any va
It riety of expression. His mouth was small
d and almost too womanly in its gentleness
: and his hand delicate as a girls.
5 We seldom find our fancy pictures of tn,
e unknown realized, but Walter Hines wa
, the very embodiment of Aymee's ideal, anc
., not once during the whole evening wcr
d her sweet blue eyes turned away from hi
le face. His subject was Poetry and Poets,
e. and the discourse and the speaker harmo
II nized, like love and Venus, or Appollo ant
IT music. His voice without possessing tn
is subtle, indescribable magnetism of Edit
p Trevanion's, was yet low, and sweet, an,
l. thrilling, as the cadences of those we lis
at ten to in dreams.
n He had spoken but few sentences, whel
er his eyes fell upon the sweet, uplifted fac
e. of Aymee. Her dress was of pure whit
muslin, and wreath of myrtle, with it
o. starlight blossoms, was half hid among tn
w curls Of her golden hair. The poet-orato
al smiled unconsciously when he gazed O
at her, for at first he half fancied the immo1
ne tai muse of his art was before him. Sh
ld touched him greatly by her youth and il
rt nocence, and her exceeding grace, an
We many times during the evening his eye
ad sought that fair face, as if in quest
on strength and inspiration.
es That night Aymee De Wilton's dream
Id had caught roster coloring. Alread
ne were her timid feet passing beyond the Ell
N. chanted borders of her child-life.
ou The next morning card was handed
IL hadame, as Sne SAT IN ner throne like Sc
ch before the French class, alternately prai
ing and scolding. She smiled, and biddir
nd them wait for her, left the school room al
fe, proceeded to the parlor. The lecturer
mt the preceding evening rose to meet her, al
touched his lips to her rouged check wi
S, the pardonable familiarity of an old a
hrs quaintance. How well you are lookin
lar Madame Are you as kind as you a
en handsome [ hope so, at least this NOR
OF ing
nd Pourquoi 2
.he Oh, because I've come begging. W
ng was that little golden-haired girl, with t
Till crown of myrtle-leaves and the white dress
That-let me see-that was Aymee
ht Wilton. Her father is our AmbassaG
vas to England But why-you were 1
ing smitten with that child of fifteen p
I do Mt know, Conscientiously, NJ;
do anne, never could have succeeded one b
est so we'll last night but for the encoura
ad- ment that girls eyes gave me. The sill,
re- homage of her quiet, steadfast look was
thousand times worth all the cheers of
SIX audience. Come, Madame, let me see
led -dop
lin Well, Walter, said the lady gay
at perhaps | will make an exception in y
I'M