Democrat and sentinel. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1853-1866, 1861-08-07

to claim higher privilege, and Mary shall be
forever lost to me-"
She drew back, and a few inaudible words died
away upon her lips; he could not see her ap-
pealing, fearful eyes. Mistaking the cause of
her reserve, he made strong effort to regain
composure.
"Do you remember when you were a child,
Mary, how ambitiously romantic you used to be,
| and how you were determined to become duch-
ess at least 2"
! 'And how you used to tease me, by saying
| you would only come to my castle disguised as
wandering minstrel, and would never sit at the
table between me and the duke, Edward? Yes,
L remember it all very well, foolish children that
we were /! But 1, at least, know better now.
am not ambitious in that way any longer"
''In that way? In what way then do your
aspirations tend 2"
ITO be loved" said Mary, fervently .'to be
loved, Edward, with all the trust and devoted
ness of which noble nature is susceptible-to
know that the heart on which l lean has no
thought of me-to be certain that, with all
my faults and waywardness, l am loved for
myself alone, net for-for any little charm of
face which people may attribute to me.''
Edward rose abruptly, and walked up and
down the room, which, from his long stay in
the house, had become familiar to him.
Mary he resumed, stopping as he drew near
her, you do yourself injustice. The face you
set so little by must be beautiful as the index of
your soul. 1 have pictured you often to my
self; have coveted the blessing of sight. were
it only for an instant, that l might look upon
beheld her in my infancy, floats before me when
l think of you, encircled with halo of heavenly
light, which fancy to be your attribute, and a
radiance hovers round your golden tresses such
as gladdens our hearts in supshine.''
''Ah. Edward. it is better you cannot see me
as I am. You W, uld not love-I mean you would
not think of me-so much.'
eff could but see you for a moment as you
will look at the ball tonight, fancy I should
never repine again.
The ball tonight! 1 had quite forgotten it.
1 wish mamma would not Insist on my going.
do not care for these things any longer you
will be left alone. Edward, and that seems so
heartless and unkind.'
MARY" said one of her sisters, opening the
library door, s.look at these beautiful hot house
flowers which have arrived here for US. Come,
Edward, come and see them too.''
They were so accustomed to treat him as one
of themselves, and were so used to his aptitude
in many ways, that they often did not appear to
remember he was blind.
The flowers and beautiful, and yet no
donors name accompanied the gift. Suddenly
one of the girls cried out, Iaughingly-''I have
7 7 = L.
heard Us talking about this ball, and must have
ordered them purpose for US. Kind, good
Edward ~ ard they were loud in their expires
sions of delight-au except Mary, who kept
silently aloof.
MARY does not like her fiowers?'; said Ed
ward. iDquiringly, turning in the direction where
she stood
NO. she replied, sorrowfully, t'it is the ball
that do not like, nor your thinking about deck
ing us out for it. As if [ cared to 60"
'.Look at these lovely roses" said the elder
wea- ''would not Mary look well with wrea' h
of these roses in her hair ~
Eyes, yes,'' exclaimed Edward, eagerly, "and
let me weave it for her. You know, Mary, 1t is
one of my accomplishments you were proRd of
my garlands when you were little girl. Will
you trust my fingers for the task ~
eff you really wish it, if it does not seem too
trifing, yes,'' said Mary, gently, with troubled
expression upon her brow, usually so serene, as
she moved so reluctantly away. "But it must
seem such a mockery to you, poor Edward ~
and then, without waiting for a reply, she hur-
ried to her room and did not show herself again
IL IL !
ward, seated between the sisters, who were in
great delight in their anticipations of the even
ing's amusements, silently betook himself to his
! task.
Early after dinner, the large, old-fashioned
| drawing room at Woodlands was deserted The
momentOus business of the toilet had to be gone
| through, and then drive of five miles accom-
plished, before Mrs Parker and her three lovely
! daughters could find themselves at the ball. Ed
ward was the only occupant of the room. Seated
at the piano, on which the fingers idly strayed,
he now and then struck chords of deep mel
ancholy, or broke into passages of plaintive
| sadness.
| e.Alone, alonel How the silence of this room
I strikes upon my heart-how long this evening
/ will be. without her voice, without her footstep
! And yet this is what awaits me-what is inevi-
! tably drawing near Next week leave the root
under which she dwels / shall hot hear her
singing as she runs down stairs in the morning
1 shall not have her constantly at my side, ask
| ing me, in her sweet, childlike eartnestness to
teach her to repeat poetry, or give expression to
/ her music. The welcome rustic CT her dress
the melody of her laugh, will soon become rare
sounds to me- Within, around, beyond, all is
dark, hopeless. solitary. Life stretches itself
,,eariIv before me rlind and deSolafe as am