The Jeffersonian. [volume] (Stroudsburg, Pa.) 1853-1911, 1854-10-26
NO. 10.

love; but how have I treated you since
you we're born! Listen to my sad story,
Irene, before you judge. A look of un-
uterable love was in the lady's eye as sit
ting opposite Irene she began her story.
II will not recount to you, my dear
Irene, any of the events Of my life before
my sixteenth year; suffice it to say, that
was young and thoughtless. They told
me that was beautiful. While travel
ing through Italy with my father, | first
met your father. He was the third OF
the Duke of Dcdington. We met, and
from the first moment we loved each 9TH
er.-Day after day passed, and still we
met and parted. At length he told me
of his love, and made him the same con-
fession. Well knowing that our parents
would bitterly oppose the match, for
bad already promised a wealthy baronet,
we determined to be married privately.
Atlength it could be no longer concealed.
I was staying at friends near Genoa,
when you were born. My husband took
you but few hours after you first saw
light, to jewellers wife who promised
for large sum to bring you up as hers.
Three weeks after this we lelf Italy
For many years We lived separately in
England. My husbands brothers died,
and he became the Duke of Dcdington.
Then our happiness was publicly acknowl-
edged. But our marriage was OF short
duration; fever destroyed my husband
before I bad been a month a duchess
I have passed over all the events that oc-
CURED after left Ital ly until my husband
became the duke: but | must tell you the
agony | endured in being separated from
you. The goldsmitb's wife wrote to me
concerning you, but suddenly her COM
municatons abruptly ceased, and letter
from her husband informed me that she
was dead. After this heard no more Of
you. In vain l wrote; [ received no an
swer to my repeated letters. l was not
rich enonCh then to take a journey to
Italy. The time rolled slowly away; my
husband became a duke, and I widow.
Then the love | had cherished in my
breast SO long for you, my daughter,
burst forth. I felt that I could not i've
without you. | came to Genoa to my
horror the goldsmith had left that city.
| heard that he was in Venice; l came
hither, aud yesterday morning | found
in Gueppo, the alchemist, and learned
that you had been torn from him. Since
that awful moment I have not slept I
could but think of you, and picture yon
in my mind. Ny desertion of you has
no excuse but that of strong necessity;
can you forgive ne :"
"My mothc-l"
"Irene.' ~
They were clasped in each others arms.
Above them how different was the scene.
The alchcmist lay upon his couch. gazing
upon the crucible. A liquid boils and
Kisses within it. Eagerly does he gaze
upon it, his whole frame trembling with
emotions. "Ah, the labor of long, long
years is to be rewarded" he muttered-
"Gold, gold, bris ht gold. and will soon
be mine. Burn on, fire, liquid boil, and
| will soon become young again" He
raised himself upon his wasted arm and
looked again upon the crucible. 4
ghastly palor spread over his countenance.
He fell back upon his couch He attcmp-
ted to rise, but the motion increased the
sickness: he felt gnawing at his heart
"Can this be death, O no, no, no. l
am too near the summit of my wishes to
fail now" Again he raised himself up
on his wasted arm and stirred the Goals
with difficult energy; for moment he
looked upon the boiling liquid; the rod
dropped from his nerveless fingers, and
he fell back upon his back upon his couch.
His eyes seemed starting from their sock
cts. He was dead.
Henri and Irene sat together in the
room where Irene had held the interview
with her mother. She softly whispered.
"You wooed and won me as the dower-
less daughter of an alchemi1t. VIII I
prove less dear to you as the daughter Of
the Duke of Dedngtonr ~
"The daughter of the Duke OF Deding-
, toni
"There is my mother, she will explain
all. Deserted as | was in childhood, do
not regret it now, as that desertion has
shown to me the wondrous strength of a
; mothers love"