The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1859-12-22
For the National Era
A PALACE IN N0A.
BY EDWARD SPENCER.
VIiI-Concluded.

difference that attracts, rather than repels.
Mamma, SO lovely, even under the mysterious
burden that is crushing her; and papa. do you
not think he is the handsomest man you ever
saw? l have never met a nobleman since
have been abroad, who so completely realized
my ideas of what noble ought to be. Why
will he wear that dark, forbidding frown, and
that distracted air? He must have had some
great grief, some overwhelming trouble"
We must be patient, and love them, and
time will certainly reveal all to u.s." rejoined
Helen.
But how little notice he took of u.s." re-
sumed Rupert; never even invited me to his
rooms! And, what perplexed me most of all.
was, when I began to talk about our country
and New York, and handed him those papers |
got at the hotel in Milan. Did you notice how
he looked at me when I asked him if he knew
that great forger, about whom the papers say
SO much, that Beale Lloyd? thought he was
| going to strike me, for a moment, and mamma,
too, seemed wonderfully embarrassed"
Perhaps you did wrong, Rupert. Papa
may be sufferer by that wretch's deeds, or
may have had some connection with him,
which made it so unpleasant to him to hear his
name"
"Beale Lloyd-the names are similar" said
Rupert, bordering every likely that was it,
Helen. For all we know, the man may be
some relative of ours, and that was the cause
of papa's uneasiness. 1 will be more cautious
another time, for know that father is such an
honorable, high minded man, that it must be
a terrible shock, indeed, to him, if any of the
family have acted dishonesty, and it must pain
him to hear the name mentioned"
What would the man down below there, in his
dark oubliette, with all that load upon his heart,
have felt, fhe had heard his proud and handsome
heir thus announcing the noble opinion he en-
tertained of him? Had he heard it, and had
there been razor nigh at hand, or bare
bodkin," can we suppose that there would have
been any possible respect" capable of re-
straining him, of making longlived his ca
lamity?" No-not even g the dread of some
thing after DEATH" not even the forecast shad-
ows and dismal echoes from that undiscovered
country" all untraveled by any earthly adven-
turer, would have been potent over the supreme
shame bred of contrast of that con6dently-ex-
pressed opinion and the loathsome reality.
I,
Beale Lloyd instead of suspecting that his
son thought his grief proceeded from wounded
honor, or shame for delinquent friend really
fancied that his son partially identified him
with the man he actually was. True, he hall
hated him for that identification bat it is far
better to hate ones child than to be shamed to
the dust before him.
Rupert resumed his thoughtful place at the
window, watching the maltitudinous laughter
of the waves" with sense of soul that derived
a melancholy sort of insPirsfson from the ssso-
citation of their joyousness and their infnity
while Helen, stripping the cover from her harp
ran her light finger over the chords, and insen
sibly suffered herself to fantasia for while
upon some strain, remembered perhaps from
the opera she had witnessed in Milan, which
fantase-made up of many woofs of memory
through which, like Ossian's ghosts, faint and
indistinct, noated the forms of the sad-eyed
Italian and his fainting mistress, of music on
Como, and Maddalena, of beautiful Art and
: Merivale-took color and tone from her pres
ent doubts and perplexities, and became a very
sad and mournful plaint into which her soul
mingled itself, as in dream, and her eyes
looking into space, betrayed how far away she
had gotten from Pdlazzo CiecO.
The door that led into the corridor opened
gently.
"Helen, Helen, do not play that, please. One
would think you were utterly broken,
and her mother, bending her feeble smile upon
her, put her hand upon the girls shoulder tc
rouse her from her reverie.
"Indeed, dear mother" said Helen, quickly
laying aside her harp, II have not the slightest
idea what was playing. was thinking, and
after my fashion, perhaps was setting my
thoughts to music"
~ would be sorry to believe my little daugh
ter INDUCED in such sad thoughts" said hel
mother, gently. Then, as she took seat by
Helen's side, and put her arm about the girls
waist, she said to Rupert, "Come here, my SON.
and sit by your mother. 1t is long while
since we have been together, children, and il
may not be very long before we are severed
again, perhaps forever" So used was this poor
woman to look at the dark side of everything,
that she could not control the propensity, even
now, at the moment of reunion happy beyond
her greatest hopes. Indeed, happiness seemed
always in her case to bring with it the pang Of
doubt 1t is more than l have been used to-
she would argue; it is more than | deserve; it
cannot last by any possibility. And thus she
had the anguish of perpetually detecting in
every CLEAN of unusual sunshine only the au.
curry of darker and more terrible calamities.
Mrs. Beale sat there q minute or two between
her children, and glow of pride and satisfac,
ton lighted up her face with beams that almost
supplied the place of that more perfect illumi
nation which proceeds from happiness. The
lines of her sad and wan features we're soften
ed, her gray hairs seemed to be not inappropri-
ate to the mother thus stationed, and her sober
dress harmonized we'll with the richer and more
lively attire of her boy and girl. First she kiss
ed Helen, and rested her lips foRdly upon the
girls cheek, but her eyes sought Rupert, and,
while she put her arm about his manly shoul
ders, it was easy to see where her pride was and
her idolatry.
"To think you have grown up and become
man and woman since you parted from your
poor mother!" said she, with faint sigh then
adding, with that feeble flicker of smile, and
such handsome man, and lovely woman, too
Do not look very old :? 1t makes me feel So
to find you thus"
"Why, mother, what fatterer you are u
exclaimed Helen. "Do you not know it is very
wrong for the parent to laud her children?"
81 hope my children deserve all my praise,
said Mrs. Beale, with sigh of content; " and
you, little Helen, so neat, so stylish, so indie
pendent--you do not need your mother now
DO you remember what helpless little girl
YOU were, when you went away from me, and
how used to spoil you, dressing and undress
ing yon, and fixing your hair and all 2"
"Yes-and how papa used to scold you for
making me so helpless, when he came home at
night, and you, instead of being in the parlor
to keep him company, would have to stay up
stairs with me till went to sleep. Oh, should
have been spoiled child, certainly, if you had
not sent me away"
81 am glad it has pro6ted you, my darling,
for I had many misgivings on the subject"
Mother" said Rupert, suddenly, what is
the matter with papa? What makes him SO
distracted, 80 gloomy, so morosef He did not
seem as if he was glad to see u.s."