True American. [volume] (Steubenville [Ohio]) 1855-1861, 1855-06-20
z. RAGAN, Editor and Proprietor.

see none but him, and for that one day l
had put off my deep mourning robes, and
attired myself in the same garments I had
worn when l first met him. The golden
pins were in my hair, the blood-red carna-
tions dropped to my shoulder, but my
cheeks no longer rivalled the crimson of
my velvet robe, The bells of the old oakcn
clock, standing in the broad landing Of the
corner stairway, chimed the hour, and |
sprang to the door, The moments passed
ont was eleven, twelve! He came not,
and all the while the weight on my heart
grew heavier, the shadow darker betwixt
me and the sunshine. e..
It was night. The drawing room was
brilliantly lighted. A faint hope began to
steal back to my heart. Perhaps his fa-
ther had employed him all day, and he
would come to me then! I threw myself
down upon the lounge, and strove to await
him calmly. The room was the same as.
when had awaited my father there, one
year before. The same velvet cushions
supported me, light Aoated over me from
the same lamps, and the same fancy pic
ture of beautiful Italian singing girl,
looked down on me from the other side of
the magnificent room, with its soft, bright
eyes. But there were changes in myself.
The waist, round which was clasped the
same girdle, had grown thiuner, the whole
figure slighter, and the cheeks, over which
my long lashes dropped, were pale and col
orless as marble But the greatest change
of all was in the inner life, where the
dreamy, wandering heart of girlhood, had
become full-nurtured, proud, anguished,
loving, woneanly.
I heard the outer door open, as I
lay there. With an effort I ay still and
listened. There was step in the hall ap-
preaching the drawing room, but it was as
of one old, and somewhat feeble-not the
light springing tread of Reginald Percy.
| held my breath-there was tap upon
the door and Barbara entered. . . .
at is for you, Miss Isabella" she said,
putting a letter in my hand "The boy
said no answer was expected"
She left the room. I held the letter
up to the light and looked at it. Iknew
those bold, free characters must have been
traced by Reginald. I had never before
CHANGED to see his writing. We had been
so constantly together, there was no need
of letters. l looked at the direction for a
moment, and then pressed it to my lips
Then glanced at the seal-it was cou-
chant leopard. I had seen it on a ring Of
Reginald's, and he told me it was the coat
of arms of the Percy family. For some.
time held it, fearing to break the seal,
but at last I reused myself, and opered it.
A closely written sheet ofpaper lay before
me, and l read these words ''.
Elsa, my own darling, my beloved; fol
this once must call you mine. We
must not meet again. You are lost to me
forever. I know l am telling this abrupt
ly, but I cannot help it. My fancy pic
lures you before me, falling helpless to tht
floor as you read, or weeping wildly, pas
sionately, with none to comfort you. On'
moment, I am resolved to come to 20,
myself to bear it; then my better judg
ment tells me it will be worse for us both
Oh, God only knows how I have love,
you; but must not speak of it to-day
My suferings are nothing if 1 could bu
hope your heart would not be broken.
have told you that my mother died when
was sixteen. On her dcath-bed she ex
acted from me solemn promise never t
marry awoman whose mother had not beel
pure, whose mothers name had not beel
unstained. Was this warning? Their
are those who say prophecy is a gift ac
corded to the dying. Can I go on?
must, though it is at the risk of darken
ing forever the picture, you have so love
to contemplate, Ofyour sweet young moth
er.
"This morning l sought my father i
his library, and told him I wished tobrin
him home daughter. He asked he
name and lineage, and when / told him, h
betrayed the strongest agitation. M
poor boy he said at length, my poor Res
inah-you remember the VOW you mad
!, to your dying motherY lisa Hutchinson
, the child of an Italian singer who w'
, never married. I cannot receive her
my daughter, you cannotfOrget your oath
. "For along time, Isa, J. thought l coul
Z not live, but l knew such a thought WI
! sinful, and struggled against 1t resOlut
aud at last I came to look upon it MOI
!, ? calmly. lisa. the picture of the Itali'
singiug-girl, In the drawing room
. Hutchison-hOuse, which you have alwa.
lbccn told was a fancy sketch, is the pc