Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1854-08-16

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which those blue eyes never Enclosed, until
the sunshine Of heaven had tinged their
golden fringes Alice Carlyle De Wilton
was dead
The widowed husband sent all the atten-
dants from the room, and for one long hour
he remained alone in the chamber Of death.
Who shall say what remorse, what peni-
tence, what suffering, what prayers for for
giveness, the records of that hour bore up
to heaven But at its close he came forth
unchanged in outward seeming, with the
same cold brow and stately step, nor were
the tones of his voice softened ever SO
slightly. as he calmly gave orders about the
burial. But he was kind father, as far
as indulgences of the purse can constitute
kindness The infant child Immediately
assumed in his eyes the importance of the
future heiress of Willow-Dale and Mont
Mary, and he gave orders that the most
constant attention should be bestowed upon |
her, and the hghtest of her childish wishes
should meet its fulfllment.
Harold De Wilton, at his wife's death,
was not yet thirty years of age. He was
what person of nature and refined taste
would call strikingly handsome, but he was
not young lady's love of a man by any
means. He had broad, square shoulders !;
a tall, manly figure fully developed
chest; black hair, thick, andsomewhat cur
ly; and large piercing black eyes.
His wife had been gentle, blue eyed
blonde, with clear, transparent skin, a
light, graceful figure, and natural curls of
sunny, golden hair. With shade or two
more of self-confdence, and 1.-THE less
singleness of heart, Alice Carlyle might
have been country belle; as it was, she
had loved her future husband from her ear
liest childhood, and her sweet face lighted
up the cottages of the poor and suffering,
! far oftener than the spacious halls
Where youth and pleasure meet
To chase away the glowing hours with flying feet.'
If her married life had been unhappy she
had certainly borne her trials meekly and
uncomplainingly; and if Harold De Will
ton had been to some extent an unloving,
he certainly had not been an unkind hus-
band. His lady's wishes had been regar
ded with scrupulous exactness, and if the
cold stateliness with which he handed her
a chair, and addressed her as Mrs. De
Wilton had chilled her heart sometimes,
he certainly had not panied her by bestow-
ing any tenderer tones upon another. If
he was cold, and stern, he certainly was
not bad man.
= AS the IfJCIe Aymee grew older, his
heart appeard to soften. 1t might have
been in part the memory of his dead wife,
whose very counterpart was Aymee; but
it was even more owing to the influence OF
= the gentle, fearless child's deep love for
r him. Save the quadroon who was her con-
slant attendant, her loving heart had nc
D one else to cling to; and to her, her father
seemed the embodiment of all that was no
It BILE and good. She would climb into his
It lap, and sit there for hours, with her white
;, dimpled arms wound around his neck, ant
h her large starry, blue eyes fondly upturne'
II to his face. And her father grew at las
e to return her love, and to turn to her wit
It an exceeding tenderness.
d The little Aymee was five years old whe
k the proprietor of Willow Dale first took hi
lie seat in the Senate chamber of his natiV
a. land. He was well fitted to attain to p(
n litical as we'll as social eminence. To hi
lie richly stored mind was united prou
lie name, and commanding and stately pei
a. son. His manners were the very beau-ides
If of courtesy and refinement, and his gres
le wealth secured him the sufrages of thoS
u whom neither gifts nor learning have pov
+ er to sway.
es It was during MS first winter at Was
of ington that Senator De Wilton met Edit
be Trevanion. She was with the family
er Senator Floyd, from Virginia. Perm
er me to introduce you to Mrs. Floyd sa
of the senator one night, as De Wilton sto'
Is, in the heavy shadow Of curtained windc
is. at the White House, watching the g
lis groups that thronged the brilliantly-hght
De room.
De with pleasure was the reply; al
m. taking his friend arm, they passed throuj
the hall, and out into an ante-room. Y
ne don't mean to say that is Mrs. Floyd cri
on, De Wilton, with rather an eager expr
sion for married woman to elicit, and
but slightly quizzical glance at the good
~ mored, but certainly rather plain countt
her ance of his companion.
ing Hush, hush, don't speak so loud, they
hear you. Yes, certainly, that little WON
lde with blue eyes, and pearls in her hair
Tx. Mrs. Floyd, and that other one standi
ee- near her is a friend of ours. But here
'lte are 2 ........
ore A smile of something very like pleas1
1th lit up the southerner's handsome face,
{ y he understood that the beauty who had
Ike, attracted him, was not Mrs. Floyd, or N
see anything else, but plain Edith Trevani
Of course this pleasure was very unseli
the and disinterested, for what could this ST.
'ed- ger be to him.
the He went through the introduction "
: his usual naughty grace, and then, offer
hnd his arm to the two ladies, he strollod aro'
over the pleasant rooms, for promenade.
,ugh course his chief attention was directed
ped 0ed, Mrs. Floyd, but somehow after the in
llled view was over, he managed to forget
greatest part Of what that very excel
kls- little lady had been saying, while he
own tanned vision, quite palpable in its
tinctness, of small white hand that
he touched his own, and naughty, spark
the face, whose crimson-threaded lips
call scarcely parted the whole evening. It
ened certainly nothing strange that he sh
have little business to transact with
innot atCr Floyd, the next morning, and it
head very natural that Mrs. Floyd's beau
You friend should be mentioned in the col
land sation which ensued and thus De w