Alexandria gazette. [volume] (Alexandria, D.C.) 1834-1974, 1866-07-19
ALEXANDRIA w. THURSDAY EVENING, JULY 49, 1866

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cooled lite fever under the hiocks of its green
grave yard where she lies asleep.
| take sad pleasure in renewing here, ere
reach the full confession which this pen must
commit to paper before sleep again, the home
ly inys of nv residence in Alexandra. | hope
tor pardon because these reco'lections are still a
joy to me, for they tell me L am yet
human. [ think Cain might have had hope, if
he had cast out the fear that hy one ecrime he had
ceased to be human, and that whoever met him
would slay him as a beast. A single remem-
brance of his innocent sisters carried into his
! vagabondage would, know, have saved him,
| for these lines are but the record of how such
thought has saved me-
have said, elsewhere, that the household
of my sister was of an unobstrusive character
She had mingled but little with her DeigLbors,
and yet somehow-at church-in charities
like had drawn like, and circle of friends,
larger than [, at first, supposed, made up her
world on this side OF the waters. She drew
upon all ranks for her friends, and gathered, if
not the highest-the best they who made
rank exalted, because it encrcled them, and
they who took from humbe-ife all suspicion Of
meanness, because such gentle folks were hum
bic Convalesence ripened into health under
these genial influences, but several years elaps-
ed before was perfectly restored to my former
vigorous health.
1t was the custom of the town for the citizens
to recreate themselves at a suburban villa
Bromiaw* it was called,-it was a deli ghtful
SPOT on the banks Of a creek and in full view of
the river. Dances were frequent there with
other sports and on a pleasant afternoon the
grassy sward-that laid, beneath the shade
Of trees, around the buildings, and at its south
ern edge ran close alongside beautiful stream
would be alive with cheerful multitudes. 1t
was on such an evening [ had stroled there
with my sister, for il was but short distance
from home; night came down before we were
sated with river breeze and the sweetness Of
the summer flowers. Not yet had the moon
rolled out in midsummer glory from the forests
on the Maryland hills, but its heralds already
were spreading their TAPESTRIES on the road by
which it would come, and the way glowed with
ambient fires Attracted by the scene [ drew
near the edge of the hill, that I might catch
the first glimpse Of the coming Queen Of night.
Scarcely had done so, when to my astouish
ment, Wroe the sultor of Blanche Fordenhame,
passed by me- He did not recognize me, but
as he strobe by, with head bowed by deep
thought Or great sorrow, one the of neWlv-llt
lamps Of an adjacent arbor flashed full upon
him, and my recognition was complete in one
glance. Before | recovered myself from the
surprise, he was rods away, and his figure grew
each second more dim in The falling shadows
[ would have called to him, but knew not
what greeting 10 make. An irresistible Impulse
sent ne in his steps, and followed him, moro
because | could not command the will to stop
than from any we'll defined purpose Of my own.
He leaped several fences, aud at length, just as
the moon slvered the trce-tops, entered pre-
cincts, sacred beyond all searching, lecause
wasted flesh and mou!derng frames wait there
to see Iod. paused without, for his steps
ialtered and grew sloW, then | saw him climb
an iron tGelliS and fail within, listened some
time, huShiug my breath es though | were an
Inhabigant of the place, and tarcled heard
moans, as OF sorrow, and sounds of mourning.
Wondering st!!l,yet with ave upon ms, | did not
break the holy solitude with the sound Of foot
steps, but reyerenty undid the latchets of my
shoes and crept away unshod, until the echo or
| my lread would he spent, ere they reached the
holy spot. Was brck in good time. My sis
ter did not know that had gone further than
rhe brow of the hill. | sealed my lips even TO
her, determining 10 know more before | men
toned the rencontre, and We st!oled home. In
the N ight, silently together. 10 lie moody
and silent Was 4 haiti that sometimes Tell Oh
me, and the dear girl supposed it pleased me,
and always allowed it full scope
Sleep was inpossib bic, and 10 while away the
still hours with congenial employment, IN
locked the secret compartments of my cabinet
aud looked in upon my treasures. They had
once been priceless bu. for months had seemed
all vairl---notes signed ''Blanche,' trinket:,
and more than all miniature case, out of which
she looked at me as proudly as though she had
never fed with vagahono across the sea-
= #.Ipro,,;Iou ,r}:ol onr I>nol Gio1nn+ hos
converted into 'Broomlawn," was. al the period
when Trust lived in Alexandria, most pleasant
place. 1t took its name from rising ground
near Edinburg and occupied the hills north
of the Catholic Cemetery, and at that time were
shaded with handsome trees; possessed hand-
some pavillions, dining room, bowling alley, &c.
Trust speaks truly when he designates it as
"pleasant resort" The old Spring, walled in
by brick, still refreshcs the thirsty passer-by
and few Of the old trees remain, but all else Is
q waste or a corn-Geld ". +. G.
TO BE CONTINUED.