Columbia democrat and star of the north. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1867, 1866-11-14
Ada Livingstone's Revenge.
BY LUCY WALLACE.

''I have nothing more to say. You are
free to co. and with naughty wave of the
hand she motioned him from the room. As
the door closed the lady raised her eyes in
voluntarily toward it, then the eyelids droop-
ed downward until the lashes almost swept
her cheek, and all was still There was not
a quivering throb of the heart, not single
unnatural start of the pulse to tell of her ut
ter wretchedness and woe.
The room was an elegantly furnished one.
The finest and softest Brussels carpet Gov
cred the floor velvet chairs and ottopans
were scattered carelessly around the room
hfe-ike pictures, masterpieces by celebrated
artists, hung in rich profusion against the
walls delicate fower-vases filed with exqui-
site bouquets, whose fragrance foated over
the room, stood upon the mantel; piano,
inlaid with the richest pearls, stood open in
one corner, and, leaning idly against it, was
a beautiful harp.
1t was still as death in the room. The lady
sat with hands tightly clasped, looking into
vacancy. Suddenly tiny clock, half hid
upon the mantel, chimed forth the hour of
twelve. She started as if from some troub-
led dream, looked strangely round the room,
and then, with a bitter sigh, she started to
her feet With single motion of her hand
the rich pearls were torn from her arms, and
throwing, rather than laying them upon the
table, she drew the jewels from her fingers,
and, unclasping pearl which held her hair,
it fell back over her shoulder upon the floor,
letting her raven ringlets float uncon6ned
over the thin gauzy lace which nestled over
her BOSOM With gesture of impatience
she threw it back, away from her face, and,
in doing, dislodged tidy bouquet of roses
from within the folds of lace and satin. 1t
fell upon the carpet, and, crushing it with
her foot as she would have crtshed a serpent,
she turned and strobe from the room.
There was a queenly grace in every move
ment; and now, when every nerve was quiv-
ering with keen, suppressed excitement,
there was wild splendor, kind of fasci-
mating beauty cleaning from her eyes, which
generally were overfowing with a sweet, sad
UOurQIulneSS. All uOuI ldlcT duu, DUI lOI
the midnight darkness which shut out every
object from view, carriage, containing
single female plainly attired, might have
been seen vending its way through the city
toward the wharf.
And thus Ada Livingstone left her sump-
uous home and went forth into the world
penniless and almost friendless. She, who
had ever an unsatisfed want, who had never
had one single dream of poverty, save, per-
haps, when some trembling beggar had stood
upon the marble steps before her door-and
then she had relieved their sufferings-was
now adrift upon life's ocean as poor as the
poorest For years she had been an orphan,
and her property had, as was supposed, been
in the hands of faithful guardians but, by
some mismanagement, everything had been
lost.
She had been betrothed to Mr. Conrad,
a young and talented lawyer but, when he
found that his betrothed bride was no longer
a wealthy heiress, he wished to be freed from
his engagement and, coldly as though he
had been nothing to her, she bade him go
and then; as we have seen, went in the dead
nf NIGHT awav from her home: taking with