Delaware State journal and statesman. [volume] (Wilmington, Del.) 1855-1870, 1857-08-28

mo Indeed, my dear wife, | ought NOT
but | hesitated about giving you so great a
charge" ri
''1t will make us all happy am sure to
have her here" said Mrs. Davis, "a and Helen
/ ought to have companion"
| DR.. Davis smoothed the dark hair over his
wife's still beautiful brow, and she looked up
lovingly in bis face. No, he did not doubt that
she would be a kind mother TO the lonely Or
phsn who would henceforth make her home
| with them. lN7
Amy Leeson was two years yonnger thau
Helen, being just eighteen. She was one whom
to know was to love. OF gentle coufling
nature, she won others hearts by her ready in
terest In their plans, and an unsefsh yielding
Of her own never apparently suspecing them Of
unkind or unworthy motives. ,ManF go felt
while with her. that she was capalssrof high and
holy actions, and possessed hifden strength
which lay unexeried, and many a one was sti-
mulated by her example to exert, for the time
at least that strength to do right.
! Perhaps the interest she excited, may have
been in n high degree owing to her being lame
She could not wink without erutch Her beau
tiful countenance was expressive OF purity itself,
aud its beauty was not injured but rather
softened by the pensiye dropping Of the long
lashes over her deep blue eyes Her figure was
very delicate, even fragile, and one felt thnt she
could not long remain among earths children,
but was pluming her wings for Immortality
This would not perhaps, have been the case,
| conlj she have gone out 10 childhood to share
| the sports Of her companions. Exercise would
| have strengthened her constitution, and painted
| the cheek with roses where now blComed only
Che pale lily.
We will pass over the first few weeks CT Amy's
arrival Mt her unces, where she soon found
herself regarded as n daughter of The house
l l..s. snln 4. tod
for her parents loss, by the thousand daily acts
Of kindness lavished upon her by her aunt and
cousin. Helen received, in her inmost heart
and Amy, in return, neglected no opportunity
| Of consulting her cousins tastes and pleasure.
| Helen, though a fine pianist, could not sing
aud she derived SO much pleasure from hearing
Amy, who possessed charming voice, that was
| highly cultivated, that she would sometlmes
| keep her whole evening at the instrument,
wi en- she reclued in tho easy chair at the other
end of the room. leaving Horace to turn the
leaves of the music, and sometimes to unite his
voice with Amy's 1t was not long before the
| cheek of the young songsiress learned to flush,
| and her eye to brighten, as he leaned over her,
| expressing his admiration of her favorite songs
| Helen did not heed this. She was incapable OF
| jealousy, aud if she had thought his heart Ind
srnyed in the least from her since Amy's arrival,
she would have scorned to endeayor to win back
his transferred allegiance. Amy, in the iuIoxi-
cation Of her underlined hopes, almost forgot her
| lameness, and gave herself up entirely 10 the
| happiness of the present.
One evening, Just after sunset, as Amy was
reading to her aunt, Helen stole out OF the room,
and with book in her hand that her father had
| that morning given her, took her way down to
| the Lilac Walk She had not been there since
her cousins arrival, and she smiled to herself
as she saw the fallen leaves that lay scattered
| around and upon the seat at the end Of the
Walk. She sat down, and opening her book,
was soon quite unconscious of oil surrounding
objects. in the interest excited by its Tages
But other eyes he'd watched her as she thus
wandered away, and soon Horace quietly fol
lowed her, and coming silently behind her
Iooked over hes shaYder AS SHE sat With hef face
y turned away from tie entrances Of the as'enne
When, NJ rength, slfr looked up, and found him
by her side, she colored with surprise and con
fusion Her natural spirit of coquetry can't
strong upon her, and in spite Of his grave, earn.
est manner she gayly chstted with him. inter
rupting every attempt he made TO lead the con
yersation into more serious channel. Finally
as he ceased to speak, and only answered hei
by grave smile, she rose, saying
" Let US go to the house, end have one 0
Amy's songs, for am dreadfully tired Of talk
ing, and know you must be tired of listening.
q Wait moment" said he OBTAINING her
"I am only listening because you will not al
low me to speak"
Then seeing her crimsoned cheek, he con
tinued--
sYou know, Helen, that have sought in vail
an opportunity of speaking, and now you mus
listen to me-"
"Mustl DR.. Claytou?" she returned play
fully, "methinks this is dariag language to us
TO me, here in my own especial dominions."
+ "Do not tride with me now, Helen. Yo
know you love me, even as truly and devoted
as do you. Will you not confirm those hope
Nj that have so long made the brightness Of u.
/ life and let me feel that they have reality"
II al presume Dr.. Clayton thinks he is ire
sistiblel" answered she, in a slightly haught
tone, piqued that he should think her so eas
won.
/ "Helen," exclaimed the young man earnestly
. e YOU do love me. / speak fiapkly, because
' believe you incapable of trifng with the deep
7 est, hottest feelings of our nature, next to tn
. love of God"
/ "You deceive yourself" she answered iu
Q tone Of offended pride, "I do not love you J.
, He stood looking at her for moment in nut
I astonishment, then the blood rushed to his fac
4 and he said in stern voice
n "I know that your own heart does not sa
that should you let II be heard, II would plea
a for me-but the beautiful, accomplished Mii
d Davis looks down upon the poor country doett
10 who dares to aspire 10 her hand. She coul
10 heartlessly sport with n true honest heart, an
.e then ding ii aside IS carelessly MS she woul
IS her cast off trinkets. Lovel fool that wa
If to imagine you were capable of feeling IT,
l. He turned away from her. She rose TO r.
10 call him, but the whitening scorn in which b
last words we're spoken withheld her. |
ne uassed out of the avenue, and with hasty strid
n. approached the house, which he entered, al
ne went up to his own room.
e. Helen would have given worlds TO be able
unsay all that she had said.
q. I" but he cannot think was in earnest 81
re said to herself Incapable Of love On
Ike he ouly knew" N
en- lie surely must come back, she Thought u
IRE when the time passed on and he did not con
she called up pride to her aid, and with NJ
,;d stan' went into the house. She found Al
alone, reading The affectionate girl welcom
itI her with a smile gently chiding her for go'
The cut SO late. -
Helen" she said. 70
se herself did not wish to 60 there unless she COZ
EN- be recouciled to Horace.
In the evening, Horace was with them
ec- usual. He did not look at Helen, who scul
in vain to meet his eye. when Amy sang
nm stood by her, and afterward gently assisted
led to her seat. ,.n;5
"Daughter, you are silent tonight said
&C. Davis, looking at Helen as she sat in recess
the window. IT..
to "0h, no, papa, she ans"efeu' "''Ah
ust coming toward him.
inc She drew a low chair beside him, and rat
ted on gayly, and almost uninterrup'euiy'
lta- ewes sparkled with unusual brllancy, anu
bright glow that mantled her cheek made
and 50 beautiful that Horace almost held ms pre-
be as he gazed upon her He felt that sue
bat acting q part. She kept them all amused
the delighted by her sparkling salli's, I'LL j.
lin. time 10 separate for the nighti but when
neet had left them ALL and was alone in her
ling room, she set the night lamp on the tap'c
that burst into tears. e.
,ow- She now felt that he had gone TOO iar-l
nity he must despise her. In vain she called 70
! to aid the pride that had sustained her-she val
'tely his love more than anything in the whole We
could she ever hope to regain 1t surrey
heir would forgive the harmless vanity mat
,.-; | IA har IA refnse him: he would not ceas