True American. [volume] (Steubenville [Ohio]) 1855-1861, 1856-03-26

w - H~l+E -
beauty, dazEIed by your wit, and attracted
by your virtue; | mistook the whirl of emo
tions felt for love. But it is better for
ne to acknowledge my fault, than to COM
init sin in leading you to the altar while
my heart is unothers. Forgive me and
forget me. Farewell, and may you soon
find some one more worthy of your love
than your friend, Qf you will st allow me
to claim that title,)
LOUIS MEREDITH.
Every particle of color forsook Beatrice's
cheeks as she read-her lips were white,
her hands trembled go violently she could
scarcely hold the letter, deatl-like faint
ness stole over her, and she sank into q chair
and buried her face in her hands.
Not tear, not moan escaped her; she
sat there in silence motionless as a statue,
but in her heart what whirlwind of emo
tions was raging! How long she sat there
she hardly knew; when at last she looked
up the twilight was deepening, and she rose
with start from her seat. Her counten-
ancc bore the traces of her suffering-she
looked lnggard and wan; the agony of
those few hours had changed her fearfully,
but her eyes flashed with all their usual
fire, and her.lips were firmly compressed to-
gether. She drew herself up proudly as if
she despised herself for her weakness,
crushed the letter, which had fallen from
her trembling fingers, contemptusly under
her foot, picked it up with look of dis
gust, as if it had been some loathsome
thing and then putting on her hat and
shawl, she walked firmly out of the room.
She went rapidly ON till she reached u
low white cottage; she entered it and pas
sed quickly through the little sitting room
to her own apartment. Here she took from
an inldid box n package Of letters and ad-
ding that she had last received to the num-
Der, she hastily collected every memento,
however trifng, which had been the gift
of Louis Meredith, and placed them secure
ly together in readiness to return them to
him. Then carefully arranging her toilet,
she returned to the sitting-room. An old
lady dressed with scrupulous nicely was its
only occupant; she was quietly knitting,
The table was spread for the evenings
meal, and she had evidently been waiting
for her daughters return. ...
"You are late tonight, Beatrice" she
said, "but suppose Louis came for you to
go to walk. 1t is so foolish to take such
unreasonable hours for his walks. Tea
has been waiting this half hour"
81 am sorry to have kept you waiting,
MOTHER" returned her daughters silvery
voice; "but those long walks will trouble
you no longer. Louis Meredith and | are
parted forever"
The old lady dropped her knitting work
in her lap, and looked at her daughter in
astonishment; at length she spoke: "0h, !
see; lovers quarrel. But you will make
it up in a day or two and be all the happier
for it. Well. well-belter disagree before
than after marriage
"Mother," said Beatrice, "lsten to me.
II shall never marry Louis Meredith. Moth.
bug on earth could induce me to 90 so. As
! said, we are parted forever; and now let
me beg you never again mention his name
tosme;-let the subject never again be allu-
ded to between us;--let all be as if we had
never known him" Her voice sohened.
"Youawill not be sorry, mother dear, to
have your Beatrice again all your own!"
And she took her parents shrivelled hand
fondly between Der own.
Mrs. Lancaster was touched by this ex-
preston Of tenderness; for Beatrice, though
most devoted daughter, in fact the only
support of her poor and widowed mother,
rarely made any demonstrations of her at
ia ashment, and this caress, slight as it was,
filled the mothers heart with Joy. She
drew her child to her side, and kissed her
tehderly, but Beatrice escaped from her en-
brace, and saying cheerfhlly, care we new
er going to have support" led the way to
the tableA She talked gaily during the
meal, and though she ate little, succeeded
in withdrawing her mothers attention from
her want of ppetite. Not the most watch
full eye could have detected a shade of sad
ness in her face or manner that evenings
indeed, she was gayer than usual. No
wonder that her mother-good; unobservant
soul--believed that she was happy in her
release from the tie that had bound her.
A few evenings had passed, and Beatrice
stood in the little sitting room, dressed fol
a party. Never had she looked more beau.
tiful than now, in her simple white dress
with it's crimson ribbons, and red rose
bud n,her hair. Mrs. Lancaster looked al
her in admiration; nor was she alone in hel
appreciation Of her child's loveliness.
| She was the belle Of the evening at Mrs
Mcrcer's, and not even the youthful heirss,