The Lambertville press. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1858-1???, 1860-10-17

that she knew, or at least suspected
who | was. / turned around my car
riage, sprung out, and offered to as
sist her in, saying:
Permit me, Miss Hayne-your
father is fatigued, and / will drive you
to your home-I have ample time to
attend to my other business after
wards"
She stammered some excuse, / in
sisted on her riding, and had the sat-
isfaction of seeing her yield.
For moment gave myself wholly
to the happy memories of the past =
/ was again beside the only being |
ever loved. / felt the rustic of her
dress against my hand, and notwith-
standing my exterior GOODNESS and as
sumed formality, / could hardly sur
press the tumult within
Isabel was a little changed, bnt
changed for the better. The naughty
belle had become the beautiful Madon-
ma. She was pensive, sad. But lit
tie was said during the homeward
drive, except that which was uttered
by the laxative old gentleman. Is
abel said nothing. What strange
meeting. Had / been an entire stran-
ger, as Mr.. Hayne supposed me, it
could scarcely have been different =
She did indeed smile when | lifted her
from the buggy, then lisped, Thank
you," then blushed, then paled again.
Mr.. Hayne cordially invited me to
revisit their humble cottage, and So
licited the honor of knowing who I
was.
Is it possible !" he exclaimed,
this is our old friend Temples son !
and returned rich, too, they say. But
be warned by an old man and make
no rash adventure. Here, Isabel,
daughter Do you know this gen
tleman ? This is Harry Temple
You surely have not forgotten him."
81 scarcely recognized him." she
replied, as she returned from the cot
tage to lead her father into the house
~ hope we shall have the pleasure Of
seeing you again Mr.. Temple"
1t was the same sweet voice as of
old Tempered by charity, humility,
and affection. and softened by the in-
fuence of religion and flial affection
/ pondered well the circumstances.
Should I again offer her my hand, per-
haps to be rorulsed ? Perhaps she
would not a second time reject my
offer. / was now rich and she poor.
1t would be no sacrifice on my part to
offer to wed the poor school teacher,
although | had determined never to
renew my suit with the wealthy heir
ess. Il might have been destiny that
decided her to reject my offer, for had
she not done so, | never should have
left home and friends to wander in
foreign climes in pursuit Of wealth. =
| mi lit at this day have been grovel-
ing in abject poverty would have
been utterly unable to restore the old
man and his daughter to their old
homestead, as I now fondly hoped to
do. Yes, indeed, pride was conquered
and the principle which had never been
quite extinguished within me, but
against which had battled with all
my might for eight years, at length
triumphed
| visited their cottage repeatedly,
and assured myself that the change in
Isabel's character, in her disposition
and manner, was deep and radical.
She no longer had high aspirations
her only thought was the comfort of
her doting father.
At length offered my hand again,
and this time / had no scruples about
urging my suit, since matters occupied
quite different position of that of
former years.
cannot tell you how happy was
when [ pressed her to my bosom and
knew that she was to be mine. If |
had loved her in her pride, and de-
sired to make her ray wife, how much
l loved her now in her humility, when
l knew that I could protect her, and
restore her and her dear old father to
their old home again. I was indeed
happy when J saw her shed such copi-
Gus tears of joy. All thought |,
this retaliation, this happiness for I'M
happiness, is sweet both to the doner
and the recipient.
A cheerful heart paints the world
as it finds it, like sunny landscape !;
the morbid mind dipictslt like a sertile
wilderness, pallid with thick vapors,
and dark as the Shadow of Death. =
It is the mirror, in short, on which it
is caught. which lends to the face oil