Year: 1859

Agnes Bertrand sat alone in her gorge
ously furnished chamber, the victim of va


ried and overwhelming emotions. Al
hour before sh3 lad been the center of /:
gay group in the brilliant parlors below
the scintillalons of her wit and the flash
ing of her wondrous eyes challenging suot
admiration as many fair friend coveted
but chance word from one of that groul
had sent her, under the plea of sudden IN,
disposition. to her own apartment, with
strange. hewildering thoughts. filling the
measure of the evenings enjoyment.


Shutting the door, and securing it that
no careless footstep might intruds upon her
sweet surprise, thrown herself upon her
luxurious couch. and pressed her burning
face upon its yielding cushions, till their
crimson stole deeper hue, and lent it back
to the rounded arm encircling them in We
hement embrace. Then she rose and re-
moved her jewelled ornaments. exchanged
her gossamer evening dress for snowy
robe de chamber, drew an inviting fauteuil
in front Of the mirror and sat down to con-
template the image reflected therein. 1t
was beautiful picture that met her gaze,
and vet the proud lip of Agnes Bertrand
sofiened before it, and the dark eyes forgot
their flashing in the mist that gathered
over them. 1t had been more beautiful
still. and this conviction forcing itself so
unceremoniously upon her, impelled also
the unconscious utteraDce of those two
words. which every woman so slowly and
unwillingly admits to the vocabulary OF
personal fidelity, "How changed!'


Yes. she was changed, and never had
she so realized the truth as now. The
face of twenty eight was no longer the face
of eighteen-something had been added
and something had been taken away. But
to define the gradual loss Of such rare
personal attraction was a difficult task even
for their possessor. The eyes bad lost
none of their magnetic power--now large
and liquid, aud melting in their tenderness,
now brilliant as corruscation from dia-
mond. now searching or sympathetic as
emotion demanded. The raven tresses
which her fingers idly unbound were CLOS
sy and abundant still; the lip had lost
none of its vermilion; the complexion
none of its dazzling whiteness. and yet
change vas plainly and painfully visible.
1t was the lack Of that attractive freshness,
that indescribable something which youth
always possesses, and for which no charm
of maturity can ever fully compensate.


She turned her head this way and that.
pushed away the wavy tresses back from
her ample forehead, as lie had done upon
that last night when--but We must not an.
pate--wouad them about her fingers,
and loosened their bright rings on her
neck, and trailed them out upon her snowy
shoulders. Then she took from perfu-
med casket a rose which had once been
white--withered and yellow now--with a
tiny bud and ,rifoliate stem, and wound
it with shining curl. as he had done that
very night; then the smile came back
to the red lip. the light to the dark eye. the
bloom to the white cheek came and linger-
ed. until another thought and sadder for
ced them aside, and they faded out again
the bloom, and the light, and the ravish-
ing smile. Then the proud head dropped
upon the arms Of the f0uteI, the bosom
swelled with tumultuous recollections and
the binding tears came gushingly and
long.


No one ever saw Agnes Bertrand weep
thus, and yet tears were no strangers to
her eyes. The world saw in her brave,
gifted soul. that lived upon its own strength
and he ped to sustain others, a champion
of the needy. a ready helper in ali woman.
ly enterprises, a queen of festivities,
faithful friend, and an invaluable compan-
ion. But she knew what depths there were
in the heart still numb, what yearnngs un-
satisfied. what purposes unaccomplished;
she knew. moreover, what alone could an
swer those irrepressible longings, and with
woman's fidelity to the one memory treas
ured in her soul, she went on her way un-
aided and unyielding, turning deaf ear to
the ardent solicitations of her countless
admirerers, and furnishing no key to the
Mystery of her steadfast determination.


And now that memory was ruthlessly
.evived-he was coming back, and these
gushing tears were for him, and the sad
regret which must follow the discovery of
her lost youth.


Ten years of separation! How much
they had carried with them Of wasted
love, of weary watching, Of idle hope,
how much, how much!


The long night wore on, the storm spent
itself. and once more the brave soul of Az
nes Bertrand asserted its superiority over
time and external circumstances, aud stood
forth in its own atmosphere of unfading
beauty. If she had lost much what had
she not gained in that long interval of years?
What treasures Of thought and lore.
with which she would not part to buy back
even youth? Ii she had once been wos-
thy, was she not worthier now? Her
heart answered--that heart, which, in all
its contact with the baleful influences of
society, was true heart still; and. lifting
her glance again to the mirror, tie pale
face there smiled upon her such encourage.
ment ana trust that she wisely resolved
never again to mourn the youth which
could not be restored, but to make the au-
tumn of her coming years rich in the har-
vest which the sping-time had so abun-
dainty promised. Already had she real
lied the fondest ambition OF her friends;
her name had become a household word