, 1862-06-26
A would-be Heiress.

day, outside.
The wind and rain beat dark December; and
in the hush, which had gradually fallen over the
party, the sobbing Of the wind, and dash Of the
rain drops against the huge panes Of glass were
mournfully audible. POrtia MarstOn, whose
buOyant spirit always rebelled against gloom,
spoke first.
1--WE are as dull as dreaming opium.eaters
this afternoon. Let us do something to amuse
ourselves till the dressing bell rings"
"What shall it beH" was the question.
Shall we tell storiesP"
"0f course"-clapping her hands In delight
Every one shall contribute her or his memories
Of life. Some remarkable incident must have
happened to everybody. M1demoiselle"
ing to French lady who sat next her-"your
face has an expression that convinces me you
can a tale unfold, if you will. Please begin"
Mademoiselle protested at first that story tell
ing was not her forte, and that she would rather
take the role Of good listener but her objec-
tions were overrnled by the united voices Of her
companions, and at length she complied, and re
lated to US the following incident Of her early
life, assuring US Of its TRUTH
My father and mother were, as you well know,
Of that ancient French arist0cracy who suffered
for their king and church in the terrible Revolu
ton. They were both children Of emigrants;
and when their families were restored, with the
their parents desire. But, like your own cava-
liers, the once wealthy noblesse Of France never
fully recovered the possessions they had lost
We were very poor; and it was consequently
with great deal Of pleasure that my father read
o letter from an old aunt Of his own, who was
rich and childless, offering to make me her heiress,
il, on acquaintance, she should like me. l was
to be sent to her as soon as possible; and il she
approved Of my manners and disposition, was
to reside with her as her adopted daughter, till
her death. ! cannot say that was at all pleased
at the idea of leaving that dear Paris, and en-
tombing myself in an old chateau but que
taire Pit was the will Of my parents, and
might not dispute it. was consequently des-
patched with all convenient speed tony ancient
relative and arrived safely, after rather a tedious
journey, at her house, having been escorted
thither by gentleman who was her neighbor,
on his return home. Il was such an old house
built, they said, by Vauban; and certainly there
were traces Of fertilization about it. The do
rnestics looked as il they had waited on Noah,
and survived the Deuge. One Of these antiqui-
ties ushered me into my aunt's presence. She
was seated In an immense saloon, near stove
for it was cOld-and had, like her apartment, 4
certain air Of faded grandeur. She retained
the dress Of the court DAYS Of Louis Seize; her
hair was dressed a Ia Marie ARfOinette, and she
was highly rouged. She received me with an
expression Of sensibility that rather entertained
than touched me, seeing she had so long ignored
my existence and that Of my father.
After her embraces and welcomes were ended,
she turned and introduced ne 10 an old lady who
sat near her, bending over an embroidery frame.
1t was Madame de Bernis, her friend and dame
de eompdgnie. She was great deal older than
my aunt, and had terrible face; It haunts my
dreams sometimes even now. Her nose and
chin nearly met her cheeks were sunken, her
hair white as snow she also was highly rouged,
and the color gave false lustre TO q large pair
Of cold faded blue eyes, which, once seen, could
never be forgotten.
MADAME do Bernis, said my aunt, in low
voice, "has been my faithful companion for thirty
years if she were not so much older than my
SELF should have left her fortune, but it is quite
unlikely that she should survive me. You need
not look at me so wonderfully. In addition to
her many inirmities she is deaf and hears not
word you say"
Supper was now announced, and when the
meal was finished, my aunt asked me II | would
not like to 60 to bed, as l must be tired with
III hope you are not timid," she said, as she
badeIne good night al like courage even in
young girl However, your room is separated
from mine only by the picture gallery, and you
can come to me il you feel alarmed"
Now, by character, am very timid, though
at the moment did not like TO ayow Il, and my
transit from my aunt's chamber through gallery
Of staring, faded portraits, did not tend to en-
courage me. The room destined for my own
occupation was q large one, entirely hung round
with mirrors. Whichever way turned beheld
a shadOwy mimic on the walls, the movement
along which became so Painful to me, that hur.
ried into bed although the couch, placed in an
| alcove, looked so dark and solemn after my little
Paris bed, that had at first shrunk from It.
had been asleep about an.hour or two, when
q slight rustling noise awoke me- looked up,
and to my horror saw my aunts dame de CON-
pagnie Madame de Bernis, sitting beside the
bed. Her cold still eyes were fixed on me, look
ing, if possible, more CHASTITY than by day, and
in her hand she held very bright clasp knife,
open. was SO terrified that could neither speak
nor move, but lay watching her, whilst she never
took her eyes off me. Every now and then she
passed her finger along the edge Of the knife, as
f to feel IL Il were sharp enough, then muttering
Pass encore, let Il drop again on b lap.
Mes dmies, cannot tell you half my fear.
Nothing in the whole couI Sc Of my aiter-liie has
ever equalled the horror Of that hour. thought
n praycr--I could not utter 4 sound; not even
a cry for help. So passed period Of time which
seemed to inc an eternity. At length once more
utterirfg "pGs encore" she rose, descended from
the alcove, aud disappeared in the large dark
chamber, for nv light sntiiced only to enlightcn
The recess. tainted. When | recovered my
senses il was daylight; the cold gray dawn was
stealing through the jealOusies. shivered, and
| felt so IN could scarcely move At length my
aunts femme De ehdmbTs came to assist at my
morning. s to | I, and told her all my nights
misery. She smiled ineredulOusly, and observed
that
MademoiseIe must have bad disagreeable
dream. There was no entrance or egress from
her room. save through madame's. and Madame
de Bernis slept in the other wing OF the chateau,
| and was very lame"
Z. ALI L.. wtn ma