The weekly north Iowa times. [volume] (McGregor, Iowa) 1857-1867, 1858-04-14
WHOLE NO, 70.

ed ready for purchaser. But no one
paused to give her kind look or gen.
tie word, and Jenny was very sad and
very weary. Sometimes the slow tears
dropped amid the scarlet folds Of her
flowers, and sometimes on the little wan
hand, yet still she mechanically held up
her basket as people went by, even
though she knew it would be in vain.
But just as she dropped her head on
her breast, with long. mournful sigh.
a strange gentleman bent over her. with
pa'e, anxious face.
"Are you the little girl that sold a
camellia to a lady here yesterday g.
"Yes. SIR" responded Jenny, in a
faint terrified voice, and yet the s.ran-
gers tone was low and very sweet but
poverty is ever timorous.
"And where did you get it answer
me truly. for I must know" and his
slender, aristocratic hand quivered like
an aspen as he laid it on her shoulder.
Jenny burst into passionate fit Of
weeping.
20, sir, it belonged to my darling
sister Agnes. and she loved it dearly.
but we had not bread to eat, and So
and so--''
"Gracious Heaven can this be poss.
ible ?"
There was not vestige Of color in
Mr.. Templeton' face, as he stood notion
less at her side. Then suddenly recov-
ering himself, he beckoned to the foot
man, who was waiting at his carriage
door.
Take these flowers. Mortimer, and
place them in the carriage. Do not in
jure single leaf-they are all precious
in my sight. My child, come with
me; we will 60 to your home. Where
is it? 2"
Jenny named the humble street, with
a blush at its obscurity, and the car
riage rolled swiftly onward in the indi-
Gated direction.
Now, New York has something to
gossip about; the distingue Mr.. Tenn
pleton talking with a little flower girl.
and taking her away in his coroneted
carriage! Mercy upon us what a
variety of conjectures were hazarded
that day in the fashionable world.
Agnes was standing at her window,
watching the sunlight on the brick walls
beyond. She was wearied with sewing,
and had gone to the easement for a
breath of fresh air and little rest
There was a faint flush on her satin
cheek. and light in her hazel eye. that
made her very lovely. and solitary curl
escaping from the comb had fallen on
her white shoulder. One bright drop
hung trembling on her long. dropping
eyelashes-she was looking down at the
vacant place Of the white camellia.
Hush those are surely steps on the
stairs--surely that is Jenny's childisl,
voice-and what is that tone which
makes her turn so deadly white, and
start. and tremble, as if she would fee,
she knew not whittier.
The door opens she sees princely
figure, as if in \ dream, and then all is
mist and darkness for a time.
o. how sweet the waking-how bliss
full the sense that he is near--that his
strong arm is her resting place--the
happy thrill, like that of tired bird
when it has found its native home.
my own lost blossom-my recover
ed treasure, have I found thee at last
Sweet Agnes. the cold world has chilled
thee cruelty, but thou art mine, hence
forth and forever more !"
And then came explanation he re.
lated to her how he had come to Anne.
RIGA to claim her as his bride, but find.
ing no trace Vt the ruined family. was
on the eve of return. when this blessed
revelation came 10 him. at the eleventh
hour; and she. with falsering voice,
confessed that she had seen him once
with Evelyn Falkland, and that the vague
rumor that coupled his name with hers
had we'll nigh driven her mad but
now," she murmured, Il am so blessed
$50 full Of joy! O. Edward. l can
fancy how the happy angels feel"
! And the sunshine crept down the
walls with tagging feet, crimsoning the
room with its evening glow and the
blue sky smiled in through the tiny
window, as if Heaven itself rejoiced to
look down on the two pure lovers. with
little Jenny sitting among her fading
flowers at their feet.
just three weeks after this date, Grace
Church was Ienselv crowded 10 witness
a wedding in ''hish life." The happy
pair were to start for Europe directly
after the ceremony, and the beau monde
were in perfect fever of curiosity
The bridegroom was Edward Temple
ton. whose kingly bearing was softened by
an air Of indescribable tenderness
bride. sweet Agnes Carlisle. whose fair
cheek was alternately tinted with car
mine shadows and lily pallor. They
are handsome couple, in truth, and it
is no wonder that an admiring whisper
thrills through the multitude, as they
pass out.
She is like some evening star. yelled
in white cloud mist. our gentle Agnes.
and although pearls are cleaning on her
breast, and rich blossoms loop up the
satin folds of her dress, thore is only one
flower wreathed in the shining masses
Of her golden brown hair. Can you
trace it's outline from your distant corner,
Evelyn Falkland?
Ah there was but ono flower which
Templetou judged worthy of a place in
his brides tair tresses-that regal bloom
which had guided his footsteps to her
side. And 80 he laid aside the orange
buds, and snowy sprays of jasmine, aud
wrcathed sweeter thing amid her glossy
locks-two o: three polished leaves. half
hiding the waxen blossom Of the white
camelia in their midst.
o.