Litchfield enquirer., 1857-08-06

interlined with gray, and the emaeated blue Selned hand, and the words seemed Ike knel to her, and though she did not understand the g'rl's story, she trembled and felt it was in: deed, fearful to be beautiful. Yes returned the girl, holding up her hand, beauty is fear ful inheritance, and it wastes like the perfume of blorsom. No, you are not beauti:u save with an intellectual beauty that fades not. have no soul Ha ha ! He could not love soulless body, mere white vacant case, but he will love you that are deep, and can look down into the secrets of his heart, where could not gb. l was only a flower that lasted through the summer, for him. and in the win ter was dead stalk, that yielded no fragr ance; but you will be always beautiful, and when the blossoms fade, the root will be full of sap. am as young as you arc, scarce fve-and. twenty summers old, and yet have known five-and-twenty years of grief, and all iu one night that had no end, that was all gloom and it was in the dark night, the dark night, and she sank her voice into sepulchral moan, that troze the blood in the bosom of Lillian. Le+ me put my hand on your fair cheek, she continucd, 'Ah; ha It is very soft and warm, and your hair, how very smooth mine was once se-and your eyes; and the long flashes that droop over them, I would see them all; let me put my finger tips upon them Some day you will raise them to him may they be full of tears as mine were and your lips, too, that came here to curse because they will press his, let me touch them, not with my own, ah; no not with my own, mine are unhoy, they would stain yours, yours, that are so pure-and all in the dark night, the dark, dark night Let me go ont softly, softly, lest l break the spell of her loving, and her lamp go out and she be lost in the dark night and like fitting shadow she steathi- y vanished from the room, leaving Lillian pet rifed with horror.
 The servants heard q shriek in the hall, and rushing, in they found their mistress lying dead upon the floor. They bore her back to the room where she had heen sitting; and there with water bathed her temples, till conscious ness returned, but it was a fearful cotscious- ness, dreadful dawnng of an awful reality, dark night that should have no end
 She never told her father why she parted from Austin. She would have sealed mp in ever lasting secrecy her knowledge of his guilt, coull she have done so. She would have hid- den 1t from the worlds eye and that too for his sake. There was no wounded pride in her bosom. She loved him over all his uuworthi- ness and forgave him all his sins: She went with the poor crlzed girl to meet him the last time they were to see each other, and for little hour the girls mind was clear; and she held up her thin hands and wept out d for. givencss to him, and prayed to Lillian that she -n,1,J too ,L. their hands together, but Lillian shrank back Her nature was too pure and her soul too deep ; she could forgive but she could not for. get. And when the crazed girl saw it, and how he must wander through the world with the shadow of curse resting upon him. her mad- ness came back, and she cred out And Still in the dark night, the dark night; the lamp gone out and the way lost ! My bonny, bonny lad The path lost and the deep gulf beyond 7
 She was poor harmless thiug; and until liillian's grave was dressed with blossoms, she wandered round those haunts, and no one ques- tiored her. But Henry Austen returned no more, and ne one asked of his history
 Lans cheek faded from that hour, yet we deemed not her days were numbered, that the lamp was slowly going out.
 That autumn died Aunt Anna this was the first death they had ever known. She died from quick fever, a woman still in the bloom of life fearful blank did it create in the household. It required death to tell them how much she was beloved And now came home the knowledge of their dependence upon her: She had expressed all the domestic matters. They had ever called upon her for whatsoever in household life they required, and little was kpown ahout thic h.vcpI b,r ,bou as they went about the house seeking the ch- drcn's clothes or the needed articles of every day; they felt how inadquate were they to fill her position, and the place was full of weeping
 An artist had just finished her picture when she was taken ill and to day have been look ing at it, and it seems as if she would speak to me. There could net be a more perfect representation: the cap she wore, the square mo- saic pin the lace shawl crossed upon her bosom
 Oh that l had such likeness of Lillian {!
 This was Uncle Erwin's second grief, and in it he forgot for time his first, the broken heart of his daughter: She was still pale and beautiful and still fingered about their one, and tried to make it what it had been in past days, to them. He knew that her cheek was colorless; but he dreamed the spring would re- store its carnation Ah, he was cherisLing vain hope, poor spider's-web cord that would break shortly.
 His heart yearned toward her he would take her in his arms. as though she was a little child, and rest her cheek against his own, and with his broad hand smooth her long hair he would wake at night and come into her room aud stand and gaze upon her little white fig u~e, whose slight breathing scarcely raised the drapety on her bosom. Sometimes he would find her awake, then he would kneel and pray with her. Many nights we heard his deep voice in her room, and knew that he was pour ing out his soul in prayer for our Lillian.
 Thus the winter wore on and we thought she grew better. Her father wfote a little bi- ography of her mother, and gave each of the children copy; and all tried in their places to render some new care for the household, and once, again make the sunshine: But the ' st |