Cincinnati daily press. [volume] (Cincinnati [Ohio]) 1860-1862, 1861-10-24

y bUt come, tell me iVh tiihO piocotoi
said the young man, suddenly becoming
grave" tell me all about Ambermead and
! the souire-how long he's likely TO last.
| For, in fact, the friend | mentioned, who is
with me during this walking tour, is vastly
interested in all that concerns the place and
property
dThe heir 2" whispered Mr.. Canute, mys-
| teriously.
"Weil, well, suppose we say he is; he's
not altogether q bad fellow, though he is
considered q bit reckless and wild But he
has heard of Clara Harwell's beauty and
! goodness from his cousin, Lady Ponsonby,
lshe's Clara cousin, too you know y and he
is really quite sorry TO think that such
lovely creature should be turned out Of the
old hall to make room for him. He wants
to know what will become Of her when old
Harwell dies, for all the world knows he's
ruined. It's pretty place this old Amber
mead-a paradise, should say. l know
what I'd do if was ever lucky enough to
call it mine" The youth rubbed his hands
gleefully. "I should be q happy dog
then ~
"And then" said Mr.. Canute, smiling.
"Why, then, I'd pull down the rickety
old house up there, and build a palace
fit for prince; I'd keep nothing but the
old wine; I'd have lots of prime fellows to
stay with me; and l should sport the finest
horses and dogs in the countryP The
speaker paused out of breath.
Sand then2' said Mr.. Canute; quietly.
"Why, then, I'd hunt and shoot and
ride, and drink, and smoke, and dance, and
keep open house, and enjoy life to the full
feasting from years end to years end-the
feast of reason and the flow of soul, you
know, in old Ambermead"
"And then? ?"
"Wby, then, suppose that in time l
should grow old, like other people, and cease
to care for all these things so much as when
youth and strength were mine"
"And then ?' said Mr.. Canute, more
slowly.
"Why, then'-and the stranger hesi-
tated-" then, l suppose, like other people,
in the course of nature, l should have to
leave all pleasures of this life, and, like
other people--die."
"And then2" said Mr.. Canute, fixing his
eyes, glittering like diamonds, on the young
mans face, which flushed up, as he ex-
claimed, with some irritation:
"Oh, hang your and thensP But the
moon is well up, see, so I'm off. Good
| night, and thank you" And without
further parley, he started on his walk over
! the hills; and Mr.. Canute silently
watched his guests retreating figure
till, in the deep shadows of the surrounding
groves, he was lost to view. In the moon
light, in the darkness, in the valley, and on
the hillside, these words haunted the way
farer, and he kept repeating to himself,
"And then?' Thoughts took possession
of his mind that never before had gained
entrance there, or at least they arranged
themselves in q sequence which gave them
| quite new significance His past life pre-
sented itself to him for the first time as a CO.
herent chain of events exemplifying cause
and effect; and if his plans for the future
| did not at that moment receive any deter
inmate change, he still kept repeating, anx-
iously and inquiringly, as he wandered on
in the moonlight, the two strangely suggest
i've words, "And then?' 1t proved a long
and toilsome nights journey for that be-
lated traveller; for he had left AR Canute' s
! cottage so hastily that he had omitted to
ask for certain landmarks on the hills lead
| ing to the place whittier he was bound. In
consequence the stars faded in the sky, and
the rosy morn broke through the eastern
mists ere the weary man, from the summit
of hill, which he had tortuously ascended,
beheld afar off, down in the valley, the
shining river, the bridge, and the church
tower of the town where his friend, in some
anxiety, awaited his temperance.
During all his after life that young man
never forgot the solitary night walk when
| he lost his way beneath beautiful spangled
summer sky; the stars seemed to form the
! letters, "ADd then 2" the soft night breeze
seemed to whisper in his ear, "And then ~
1t is true, he had not gained the intelli-
! gence he sought respecting the inmates oil
! Ambermead Hall; but he had laid bare his
own folly for tine inspection of Mr.. Cauute
and in return he had listened to no reproOf-
no tiresome lectures vouchsafed from prosy
age to ardent youth, but simply two words
had penetrated his heart and set him a
thinking seriously. Mystic little words;
| "And then?
| For nearly three years after Mr.. Harwell j
decease, the old Hail. contrary to general
anticipation, remained untenanted, save
by domestics left in charge. Miss Clara
| had found shelter with her relative, Lady
| Ponsonby, though her memory was still
| fresh and warmly cherished among the
humble friends in her beautiful native viii
| lnge. Mr.. Canute, if possible, more silent
than ever, still remained the village oracle;
perhaps more cherished than of yore, mas.
much as he was the only memento remain
ing of the beloved Harwells-the old fam
iliar faces now seen no more. lie would
listen, and they would talk, of days gone by;
he felt the loss even more than others, for
he mourned a companion and friend in Mr.
| IIarwell and Clara had been to the good
Two Words as an adopted daughter. Al
length it was rumored that Mr.. Shelby, the
new proprietor, was soon expected to take
possession OF his property In due form
moreover, that he was on the point of mar
riage, and that his young bride would ac'
company him. Ill reports fly quickly and
it had been circulated in former times that
| Mr.. Shelby was wild and extraVagant, care.
| less of others, selfish and prohigate. In
| deed, Mr.. Canute had not contradicted such
reports, SO it was generally opined that
they were too true and had legal founda-
tion. With heavy hearts the inhabitants
| of Amhermead commenced their rural pre-
paratiOns for the reception of the squire
and his bride; green arches were erected
and wreaths of flowers were hung on thu
spreading branches beneath which the traV-
elers road lay. 1t was the season of rose
and nightiDgales, when Ambermead was il
its glory; and never had the rich red rose
bloomed so profusely, and never had th
chorus of the groves been more full aud en-
chanting, than on the summer evening whel
the young and old OF the hamlet, arraye,
in their holiday attire, waited to greet tn
| newcomers