The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1859-03-12

Aunt Margaret postponed her visit to
E!lens room until evening, and then
with timld, hesitating knock, applied for
admission and receiving no answer, she
opened the door and entered. No lamps
were IN the room, and none were needed,
Tor Il bright and cheerful light from a
glowing bed of anthracite in the polished
CRATE, Illuminated every corner of the
apartment, and served to show the cle-
gance and taste which pcrvadcd it. The
warm and rich tints of the crimson aud
black carpet correspondent we'll with the
rich, heavy curtains, aud 5rocatclle
chairs books, in bindings of cloth and
gold, occupied tue shelves of hand
some y carved book case handsome
mirror, in massive gilt frame and
paintings, rale and costly, decorated the
walls; while Il guitar and Il small, but
swcet-toncd, harp occupied distant
corner of the room.
On low seat before the fire, sat
Ellen, so absorbed in her bitter musings
as to be unaware of the intrusion,
nor was she conscious of it until Margaret
Dale had taken IA scat on low ottoman
by her side, and drew Ellen toward her,
until her fair head rested on her bosom.
"Ellen, will you not conide in me -
she said, in low and gentle tone " be
assured your confidence would not be
misplaced: you have my earnest sympa-
thy, and, perhaps, could be OF service
to you, did | know your trouble"
For a moment Ellen raised her head
and scanned the conntenance Of the old
lady, then with a mournful shake Of tue
head, she replied
Do not ask me, Aunt Margaret it
would only make you scorn my weak
ness, and do me no good"
"Ellen, if your mother we o living,
would you not trust her, and tell her
all, tell lie Ellen %
a quick, short, affirmative nod was
the on j answer but it was accompanied
by food of tears.
"Then, dear child, I will try to sup
ply that mothers place; SO tell me the
tale so fraught with suffering to you;
am sure you will feel better for doing
So"
Ellen obeyel, and the weight of sor-
row seemed lightened, as she spoke to
one who could sympathizc with her !;
every circumstance since her first meet
ing with Manuel Cardoli, in the cathe-
dral his subsequent calls at the house
other kinsman, where he had always been
a welcome guest of their wretchedness
when they found they loved each other,
and the hopelessness of that love; of
their anguish at parting, and struggles
to forget each other, all of which proved
unavailing. All was told with such
childlike truthiulness and sincerity, that
the old lady unconsciously drew her
closer to her breast, while she chided
their weakness.
"And now, d ar Aunt Margaret"
she concluded, Ct will you not tell Mr..
Brandon, that though l esteem him
highly, treasure his friendship sacredly,
l have no heart to give"
But, dear Ellen, have you considered
the subject in all Its bearings Will you
barter the love Of such a man as Henry
Brandon, for fancy that is so hopeless
of ever being realized %
"l know it seems h peless, dear aunt !;
but every night l pray on my bonded
knees, that he may throw of the yoke
of papacy-come out before the world a
protestant-and we may be happy with
each other yet"
"And could you respect man, Ellen,
that for mere worldly pleasure, would
turn traitor to his belief !" said Aunt
Margaret, sadly.
" Yes! For his belief is erroneous :;
and think that God, in His mercy, will
show him the fallacy of it, and he will
know that in violating tho dearest ties
of the human heart, ho is in opposition
to the mandates Of his Maker"