The herald and mail. [volume] (Columbia, Tenn.) 1873-188?, 1874-05-22


Whittier shall I go? What shall I do
; Having no sister, where shall I fine
| some dear, kind friend ? Alas, all art
not what they profess. "
She consequently sought the conf
J dence of one who had nursed her IL
infancy-old Aunt Phillis. Ringing the
bell, it was Immediately answered by
her kind and affectionate nurse.
'What is tine matter, chile God
bress ye, honey. Tell ole anty what
ails yer. Bress my poor, modderless
birdie. Don't ye know, Miss Lille, dat
dis ole oman would die for ye? Cheer
up, honey, and tell ole anty all about
yer trouble"
Throwing herself upon the bosom OF
her only friend, in sobbing voice she
related all that had transpired. Aunt
Phillis could only weep with her,
knowing too well the disposition of the
father when reused to anger, and was
at a loss how to adviser. But grieved to
see her darling cast out upon the world,
amid such storm, prevailed upon. her
| TO seek temporary shelter in the home
of poor widow Moore.
Writing an affectionate farewell to
Arthur Beaufort, and charging Aunt
Phillis TO deliver it in person after her
| departure, hurriedly packed her trunk,
with her nurses assistance, and sought
the hospitality of widow Moore. Ar
irving at the door of the widows house,
she bade Aunt Phillis fearful adieu.
Gently knocking-unauswered-open-
ing the door, she found the widow sit
ting by the fire, with three little ones
nestled by her side; the last log lay
smoldering in the large, old-fashioned
fireplace.
why, God bless you, Miss Lille,
what could have brought you here in
in such a storm?"
Her sad heart was too full for utter
ance, and drawing her chair to the wild
ow Moore, with tears filling her large
brown eyes, in faltering tone said, "I
am going far away tomorrow, and if
You will permit me to pass the night
with you, I will be so much obliged,
and will reward you amply"
The kind-hearted old woman was too
well-bred to question her, but seeing at
glance something was wrong, answered
pleasantly, Certainly, Miss Lille.
Anything can do for you shall be done
with pleasure but cannot make you
as comfortable as you are at the man.
sion. Our fire is near out, and it is
blowing and showing so hard that John
was not able to hunt any wood"
Eillie, drawing her chair closer to the
dying embers, shuddered as she gazed
around the cheerless apartment and as
Mrs. Moore arose to make preparations
for her much-loved guest she was left
alone to her own meditation. Feeling
the loneliness of her situation, and !
chuled with the gloomy aspect before
her, she sOlllOquiAod thus
'Cease, rude Boreas-cesse tI,y howl |
ing around the widows cot. I've heard !
thy wailing all night long. Art thou |
not content to fell the king of the forest |
and rend asunder the sturdy beech |
Why will ye break through the crevices |
of this humble dwelling, and cause the |
mother to shudder and almost crush vi |
tality out of the half-clad little ones |
The tall cedar must needs bow to thy |
command, while the slender aspen snaps |
at thy slightest breath. Cease thy |
bOisterous tongue, and whisper softly |
DER the grave OF the brave, and fan the |
sycamore and sweet forget-me-not gent
ly DER the graves of the departed loved |
one. But why plead with thee? Thou |
art as needless as the scorching rays of |
summers sun in a southern cline,
and as relentness on the poor outcast in |
a foreign land as the surging billows to !
the lone mariner upon the deep. Even
there thou hast no sympathy, and thy
vengeance rocks the iron-bound vessel, |
and finally, in thy fury, hurls it from
thee with the force of artillery"
Every effort was made on the part of |
Mrs. Moore to make Lille happy, but
without avail, as she passed a sleepless
night. In the morning, feeling faint
and languid, with sad heart, she bade
her kind protector farewell.
We will leave Lille on her way to
Chicago, and take a peep at Hampton.
CHAPTER II.
GA note for Massa Beaufort"
Mr.. Beaufort is busily engaged this
morning, Aunt Phillis. 1 will take it
to him."
"No, no. l must see Massa Beau
fort, and hand him this note myself"
Good morning, Aunt Phillis. Jane
says you wish to see Tne personally"
"Massa Beaufort, Lille be gone last
night, an tole me to give you dis note
myself"
I" Gone!" reiterated Arthur Beaufort,
in astonishment. Where has she gone,
Aunt Phillis ?"
"Dunno, massa. Gone for good,
poor chile"
fastening to his chamber, aud anx-
ious to peruse the contents of the well
come missive, he was greatly surprised
to find but a few lines, bidding him to
forget her as his only love, but to re-
member her as a dear and much-loved
sister.
Idol of my heart, will remember
thee only as nv love. Remember thee !"
g Yes, from the tablet of my memory
I'll wipe away all trivial fond records,
All saws of books all forms, all pleasures past,
That youth and observation copied there:
And thy commandments all alone shall live
Within the book and volume of my brain,
Unmixed with baser matter"
We will now leave Arthur Beaufort
to his own reflections, with the full de-
termination to seek until he finds his
lost idol and secures her return.
At the Mayville mansion the servants
were thrown into the greatest distress
and confusion on learning that Lille
had fed, old Aunt Phillis wringing her
hands and crying bitterly. Mr.. May
vile raved and stormed like mad-man,
In fact, the storm within was as severe
as without. Mr.. .Mayville half regretted
the step he had taken, and tried to find
sOlace in the room recently occupied by
his darling child. His remorse was in
describable. Walking to the table and
picking up what he supposed to be a
piece of bla k paper, but which proved
to be a kind and affectionate farewell,
to himself, he became almost
frantic; but pride conquered, and
in a few days his face wore the same
cold, callous aspect.
Six months rolled by. The beauti-
full home, with all its furniture-even
the family portraits sold to meet
liabilities, and purchased by a gen
5leman from Australia, but remained
Mr.. Mayville became a poor, home
less wanderer in foreign land.
Colonel Eckert, finding his bird had
flown, tried to find consolation in trav-
cling through Europe.
Arthur still struggled on with his
salary. The hight of his ambition
gained, his happiness would now be
if he could only gain some
knowledge of his lost Lille.
CHAPTER III.
After two days travel, we find Lille
1t the end of her journey in the city of
Chicago. Her anxiety increased as she