Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1856-08-20

returned alone to her own rtmeBt
had entirely faded, and Il ,lnaoon shed S. S.
deep and rich light on thf brighten
ing the snowy sails s'itss FllIsz il sssenls
als sfsssiIg Slsq s:.7sr ~. = sdark foliage oi
not, at that moment, have had any one by
her side Her heart was too full of that
poetry which the scene and the hour were
of nature to inspire, weighing it down
with melancholy but sweet influence, like
the flower heavy with the balm it treasures
in It's bosom, to make her wish for COM
panionship If the music of the breeze
sometimes brought back to her heart the
tones of low, charming voice that had
once thrilled upon those chords, which, till
then, had slept, it mingled SO sweetly and
naturally with her other fancies, that she
felt alarm Her musings were as pure and
gentle as the light that beautifed and hal
lowed the landscape. Alas! that shad-
oW, even then, should steal over young
heart-that dim, confused glimpse of the
future, like the scene called up by the
magician's wand, should shut out the fair
prospect before her.
None but gentle winds were abroad, and
as they came to her brow, to sport with
the curls that rested upon it, asolightly as
the wreath of vapor lowering over the moon,
they brought with them a strain Of low,
sweet music. It dispelled the unwelcome
illusion, and gave back the one enchanting
voice g | shall soon hear it again."
thought she, while the idea that each more
tender and impassioned tone was due to one
to whom it had already breathed the holi-
est of vows, gave her no pain. To her,
the voice of Louis was only as music to
which she loved to listen-himself star
on which she delighted to gaze.
The following morning, looking out at
} a windoY, she beheld person on horses
. back, approaching the convent. At first,
) intervening trees prevented her from OBJ
r tanning a distinct view of his person, but
: she soon became aware that it was Philip,
a the Duke of Orleans. She hastily with
S drew from the window, with those feelings
s of dread and aversion, with which she had
y ever regarded him, while, with flushed
n cheek, and throbbing heart, she shrunk
ii into remote corner Of her rtsnant 4 o.
s few minutes, quick footstn ps were heard
/ in the corridor. Though she knew that
s they were her mothers and that she should
d be obliged to see Philip, she still retained
IS her half-reeumbent posture at the bedside,
r with her dark, dishevelled tresses lying in
le rich masses upon the counterpane. AS
Z the idea of her coming fate pressed itself
& upon her mind, she felt as if chained to the
le spot-as if she had lost the powers of Vol
le ton. Her mothers voice aroused her.
of "My daughter" said she, "why in this
"a dishabille? You must have known that
the Duke of Orleans is here, and that you
ul must see him."
is Henrietta's first impulse was to throw
i'll herself at her mothers feet, and beg thai
oy she might be spared the interview, but wher
she raised her eyes to her face, and behels
d. the cold distant look which she SO vel
9r- knew how to assume, her heart failed her
be and, rising, she reluctantly commenced ar
er ranging her dress.
81 am good tying-woman, said be-
IT, mother, "and there is no need that Mari
Sc cite be summoned"
er Her long, dishevelled hair was arranged
Ter so as to fall in rich curls over her neck an'
temples, which were restrained only by
IN chaplet of flowers. Her simple white dres
in fell in graceful drapery around her symme
rs, trical figure, and when she entered th
en-, parlor where Philip was awaiting her, eve
we her splendor loving mother, who led tn
ost way, imagined that she could not hav'
III looked lovelier, even in regal robes. Th
ace freshness of the morning air had exhilara
:. ted Philips spirits and impaired unwonte
Id, animation to his manners. His natur;
y moroseness yielded, for moment, to SOM
yer thing approaching to affability, and Henr
lti- eta shrunk less timidly from his attemp
7ou to engage her in conversation than she ha
ever done before. AS he was addressir
ON her, lark suddenly rose from the grour
she before an open window, "weaying wi
lze. meshes of song as il scared to the bll
yer sky that smiled through an opening amor
my some trees Of dark and heavy foliage.
ave can auspicious omen," said the eld
his Henrietta, and her daughter, with tn
ose happy faculty Of youth which spreads su
aim shine and flowers over the years yet
and come, was willing to believe her wore
me- The benignant spirit that hovers over life
IN spring time, yelled with his radiant win
her the cares and sorrows brooding upon her
yful ture path, as Philip painted in the most
cad Turing colors the pleasures and splendors
able the court. Her mother ably second
we're him, and soon had the pleasure Of perce
ecu ing that curiosity and interest was a,
har- kened in her daughters mind, that, S
mo- doubted not, would soon growinto des
own to participate in them.
ded Before Philips departure, it was decic
must that his marriage with Henrietta should
rned celebrated at the expiration of one We
her the Kings sanction having already b
urn obtained.
d al The day appointed for the bridal arri,
A Never was there lovelier bride than H
White rietta, and those who beheld her deen
loom her happy one. There was only one,
host phie Ni1elle, her chosen friend and cc
-oces- dant, who knew how painfully throt
lapel. her temples beneath the jeBelled braid
hymn bound them, and that her heart futt
roof, beneath the rich and costly robe, Ii