The weekly north Iowa times. [volume] (McGregor, Iowa) 1857-1867, 1858-04-14

gars are so exorbitant in your prices
| will give you half a dollar. Hero
John p
And almost before the abashed child
could raise her brimming eyes from the
ground, the pampered footman had car.
ried her flower to the paneled carriage
and the broad silver half dollar lay CLEAN
ing in her lap.
Jenny rose to reclaim the camellia,
with a red light burning on her cheek
and indignant tears in her eyes. She had
never been called a beggar before, and
there was world of pride in the way in
which her hands were elapsed together
on her breast. But it was too late-the
carriage was rolling away with its heart.
less occupants, and her beloved flower
was gone
Her first impulse was to dash the
paltry coin upon the pavement, but a
vision Of her pale, wearied sister, and a
remembrance of The dire necessities ol
home restrained her.
"No!" she murmured, hurrying to
ward the humble street where they
dwelt. Il will keep it to buy food, but
l will not tell Agnes how cruelty the
naughty lady spoke-it would only help
to make her sad. No, no, will not tell
dear Agnes"
We must introduce the reader to yet
another scene. It is q magnificent bou.
doir in Fifth Avenue, where the noon.
day light streams through the draperies
of crimson silk. and casts fresh shadows
on the velvet carpet aud tinted walls
The ceiling is frescoed in gold and rose
color, and the room is filed with tiny
satin couches, buhl tables, and glitter
ing alabaster statuettes. Through an
arch beyond, festooned with silk cur
tains. you behold small conservatory,
crowded with tropical bloom and beauty,
in the centre of which Grecian foun'
tain continually throws up its streams
of diamond light. A crisomed plumed
bird, in jewelled cage. is warbling a
shrill song, in chorus with the sound oi
falling waters. and the whole room is
like Persian palace in its splendor.
On graceful sofa. in the centre o.
the boudoir, reclined Miss Falkland, the
proud beauty who had spoken SO taunt'
ingly to little Jenny Carlisle, the even
ing before. She was in most etfectine
pose-the small hand turned to one side
the white neck curved in a swan-iike
bend. AID the round. alabaster arm
clasped with the red glow of one burn
ing jewel. lying carelessly across the
folds OF her dress. Close beside he,
was fairy like table, heaped with books
and drawings. and directly in its centre
stood the white camellia, pure and un
sullied as dream.
A penetrating eye could have discov
cred at once that this was carefully
studied grouP-the table. the books, thu
sweeping curtains, and above all. thu
equisite camellia. all being designed t
set off the one principal figure in th,
picture. No flower in the conservatory
had such waxen purity. and such statel! |!
grace, therefore the wedding blossom
was her chosen companion.
Evelyn Falkland was full of cage
and f1uttering apprehension. as she sa
in her bondour this lovely day. She
expected the distinguished Mr.. Temple
ton to call. with another gentleman. and
her FIRST anxiety was to appear we'll il
his aristocratic eyes. Every spell had
been woven to fascinate this cynosure
of fashion she had exerted herself tc
the utmost, and yet she knew that she
had not found the key to his heart. Tt
be sure. he had escorted her from the
opera house to her carriage once OF
twice to be sure he had listened. with
an absent look, to her soft whispered
nolhings. but her own woman's tact told
her that she had made no impression
whatever on this pale. pensive. stately
man. But last night gay young cous
in had whispered, as he passed her in the
ball room. Il shall call at your house
tomorrow, Evelyn. and bring Mr.. Tenn
plstor." and aimee then ner neart had
been in one feverlsh tremor.
Every moment seemed an age, unit
the musical peal of bell chimed on hel
ear. and at lengt-. they entered-he'
lively. rafting cousin, and the calm,
cold, reserved Mr.. Templeton. and
Evelyn put forth every fascinating art in
her repertoire. But she could not rouse
him from that quiet languor. He look
ed at the pictures. admired the statues.
but all in a wearied. pensive manner,
as If he wished the visit over.
"What a beautiful flower you have
there. cousin Evelyn" said Harry
Archer, during a momentary pause in
the conversation.
Mr.. Templeton turned quickly-he
had not noticed the camellia before,
and 4 sudden shade crossed his fine
countenance.
ut is exquisite |" he exclaimed. with
animation.
"Ah!" lisped Evelyn. Il bought it
Of poor child in the street. It uas a
foolish. impulsive act. but indeed could
not resist her pleading look. and siuce
that time it has been my constant COM
panion."
Charity is truly an angelic attribute.
Miss Falkland" said Temple,on, as he
drew nearer the stately flower.
Evelyn's heart beat high at this un-
won,ed compliment.
II meant to wear it at the ball tonight,
but really it seems almost like desecra-
ton 10 break it from the parent stem
don't you think so ?" she continued, for
she had heard that Mr.. Templeton had
a strong infusion Of sentiment in his
nature.
But he did not hear her he was bend.
ing closely over the antique vase in
which the camellia stood-a quaint,
curious thing. with twisted curves and
wreathing edge, and when he looked up
tho novt spatopf hA wos VARY vo1o