True American. [volume] (Steubenville [Ohio]) 1855-1861, 1856-10-15

cheeks. Her hand laid on the bedside ,
she had been resting her head upon it.
She felt the pressure Of cold fingers close
beside was The hand of the pale pastor,
and that of the dying girl lightly laid on
both. A thrill passed Trough her frame
1t was solemn token Of union, for before
she had raised her eyes from the white
face of her friend, the pale hand stiAened
death was before her. ,|:f
'Uncle, l have decided. love him.
i love no other. l will mary him.
'Thcn none of your cantlng hypocrits
shall ever enter these doors = p,
A tall stately figure at that moment
made its appearance. Emily sprang from
her seat her uncle, abashed before lbe
calm, lofty gaze of the stranger, stood
undecided how 10 act.
Uncle said Emily, Mr.. Linaden
heard you just now; but you see lie is
here-he, the worthless country parson,
the pool preacher stands before yon.-
Look at him uncle, and then say if you
blame me for my choice 2 And the
sweet girl gazed proudly on her lover.
But her uncle only lowed with cold
and stately air, and left the room.
II will be a sacrifice, my Emf Iy,' said
Linuden, leading her to seat. Think
long and calmly upon the chances of your
happiness. The life Of country parson
has many cares, perplexities, and crosses.
Much self.deniaI it must cost you to give
up this splendor.'
Remember Jessie's death,bed 7 ex-
claimed Emily, in low, firm voice.
Think you not that before such scene
earthly splendor faded from my vision,
never to look all glorious again No,
Linaden,. have something to live for,
something beside my own selfish cares,
Joys, and SORROWS. regret nothing
with you. shall forever have nothing
10 regret, except that cannot love you
more perfectly
And Emily was welded, not in the
home of her rich uncle, but in the sweet
church from whose pleasant window she
could see the plain white headstone, that
marked where Jessie laid. 1t was a
balmy summers morning /; and all the lit
tie village had assembled outside and in,
and every heart asked for blessings OIL
the happy bride. Emily was robed in
a dtess Of simple muslin, with no orna-
ment save The bridal wreath; and pure and
graceful she looked, most fitting the holy
place, as she passed down the rustic
church, ut The conclusion of the ceremo-
N.Y. A horse richly but neatly caparison-
ed, stood berore beautiful little carriage {;
and, to Emma's astonshment her hus-
band led her to it, and seated her and
himself within.
Whose beautiful vehicle is this !? and
why do we ride = asked Emily, her hand
upon her husbands arm but he only
smiled a smile full of trust and promise,
and she was contented with his silence.
How perfect! exclaimed Emily,
when a! turn in The road appeared large
and beautiful cottage, surrounded BY lawn
and gardens, and glorious growth of for.
est-trees. Whose charming place is
this. II is new spectacle in our pretty
village '~ Cd '..
'Suppose we get out here,' said hel
husband, turning his horse's head towards
the broad and evenly rolled avenue lead
ing 10 the house - and suppose he al.
ded. present to the cottage, with al
the charming scenery. its owner and
sweet mistress, Emily Linaden ! s tt
Mute with astonishment, Emily suf'
cred herself to be led through the hall
where several we'll trained domestics bade
her civil welcome into large. graceful
rooms, appropriately fitted up, s.-
Does it please you Emily q he asked
delighted with her wondering amaze. '-
tp!eases me; and yet she answered
in low tone, { it is not what | have
dreamed of-a little humble home,
pleasant parsonage, where the poor may
not fear to come. 1t is too--too- y
TOO beautiful, extravigant,' you
would say my sweet Emily. 1t is no
too beautiful for you. neither have gone
the length Of slender purse. Here nv
love the poor will come for it is not the
house that precludes honest pride, bu
the hearts within it. Emily am not 0
poor man. You start with wonder; bu
It is true. You have trusted in me, given
yourself to a stranger for the love Of him
and the principles he pro fesses. You
have not trusted in vain. Seven years
ago, left my home in England, left a
peerage and part of princely fortune fol
the sake of Christ and my poor invalid
brother, My father in a freak of passion
caused by my brothers marriage with one
he disIiked exceedingly, banished him
from his home, and died leaving every,
thing 70 me. NV brother, pined, and vel
his pride allowed me not to aid him; so,
at last having a yearning desire to visi,
this new land | bade lasting farewell tc
my country, settled two-thirdp of my for.
tune upon my brother and his little fami
ly, and abandoned the honors and emolu-
ments which, though showered upon me
fitted not my nature. And now come
with me, and look through our house,
Here he continual as ha, threu, onar