The south-western. [volume] (Shreveport, La.) 1852-1870, 1865-06-14

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some friend, and do not intend to deduct from
her wages" And the little lady settled herself
more comfortably on the lounge, smoothed her
rufiled features, looking as if she was the saint
she would make herself believe.
"Trulv, my fair Kate, you are generous y
Il viii retain her as my waiting maid an as
sistant to Fauchette."
Pleased that she was to remain, he lifted the
jewelled band Of his wife to his lips, and, with
a graceful bow to the two, he left the ROOM
After satisfying her curiosity as far as possible
Mrs. Seymour rang tiny bell at her side, and
upon her maids appearance, said
"Fauchette, show this girl to the servants
hail. and pass me my vinaigrette; my nerves are
exceedingly troublesome to day" Saying which
she waived an adieu.
Maggie was in a new world. Her childish
dreams were being realized The costly furni-
ture, exquisite paintings, articles of vertu, scat
tered profusely about in Mrs Seymour's bou-
dor, all seemed like familiar faces She felt a
strange home-teeling-a quiet to which she was
all unused, and her past life of wretchedness
was like a feverish dream. Oh! if she could
but stay in that beautiful room, and not have
the hateful lady there, only kind, handsome Mr..
Seymour, how happy should she be, thought
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the homely kitehen-run at this ones call, and
that one-run till her little feet be sore with
travel. Pity the servant of all work slave
to every one, she is never expected to be idle
never tired. Often has Maggie, ut the close Of
long and weary day, stolen away to her little
attic chamber and wept the long night away;
wept that she was weary-that she was lonely
wept for she scarcely knew what. A longing
h,l r.
"a yearning for sympathy and love- She must
love some one; and whom else but the only per-
son who, since her remembrance, had been kind
to her? whom but the fascinating Mr.. Seymour?
She thought not Of wrong in thus loving the
husband Of her hated mistress. Often has Mag
Gle thought, ''better be a beggar, as | was be-
fore | came here, than her slave" But ever, as
she thought, another image would rise before
her-"Oh, cannot leave hin" m"-reconciliug her
to her lot. This love increased with her wears,
till, from the grateful love of guieesS child,
it became her one absorbing passion of the wo-
man.
Five years had unfoldcd the bud into a gor-
geous flower Her heart beat as fercelv, as
proudly, as when she stood before Mrs Sey-
mour, clothed in the garments Of penury, the
little untaught beggar girl Of Broadway
Aud what thought Martin Seymour of his
protege, as his lady was pleased to term her {?
4 man of naturally generous impulses, strong
affections, a true artistic love of the beautiful
be met in early life Kate Linden; and, dazzled
by her showy beauty he dreamecAhe loved her
Strange intatuation and oh, the sad awaken
ing The glded toy, robbed Of its gilt, he saw
bis wife, his companion for life. Woe in the
thought, madness in the reality! He turned
from the home which possessed no attraction
for him, and sought in society the happiness his
nature crayed. But it was not in the halls Of
mirth, nor at the pouring Of the wine, that Mar
tin Seymour, with his noble intellect and refined
sensibilities, was to find that which he sought
peace. And alas for Maggie he came to wor-
ship her as his ideal OF beauty and womanly
graces. For a while the thought Of the great
wrong it would be to her enabled him mourn
fully to hide the workings of his heart.
Can it be such crime to love pure, beau
tiful girl, because | am married to a bundle of
Iaces and fOunces-a body without soul =
And, mignonne, feel that she loves me; and
when I gaze into her upturned, glorious orbs, l
forget everything but that she is before me
She must be mine and if wrong there be, will
atone in part by making her happy, cultvating
her mind, which is like a splendid garden over
grown with weeds
And thus he reasoned-thus he planned the
ruin of the girl five years before he had prom
ised to shield from all harm.
CHAPTER V.
It was summer, and the votares Of fashion
were deseFting their comfortable homes TO spend
the fashionable amount Of time at the several
fashionable places Of resort, and Of course Mrs.
Seymour must needs visit Saratoga Her nu-
merous trunks were packed; her husband was in
readiness to escort her, when bidding Fauchette,
who was TO accompany her mistress, call Mag
gie-whO soon appeared with swollen eyes, tears
Just trembling in their silkcu Iashes-she ad-
dressed her thus:
Maggie, | wish you TO take the charge OF my
boudoir, and also Of the diuiug-room. Dust
and well air them every day, as detest musty
room. See that you allow none of the servants
to enter either. Dost hear, girl +? why bless me
how pale you are !"
Pale yes! she was to lose her sunlight, for
she knew not how long With these thoughts
she met the eyes Of Mr.. Seymour bent upon her
with sad, regretful look beaming from their
cerulean depths. She felt sicli-the room seem
ed to whrI-she heard not her mistress voice,
tiIl-"MaSgie Bane, in a sharp tone, you may
retire
Something Of the true state of things passed
through her mind. Sick at heart Maggie saw
him depart; weary and listless she wandered
through the spacious rooms, rendered dear to
her by his memory. The days dragged YEARLY
on. The sunlight was dimmer-the air heavier,
Her eyes lost somewhat Of its lustre-her step
its elasticity.
One day, entering her mistress boudoir, she
threw herself upon the luxurious lounge, and
thus she unused: "Why was born Why doom