UC-NRLF SB flDD DE7 iitijii Hi i h I I ME m LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA DAVIS 0f A VOICE FROM THE PAST " One touch of Nature makes the whole world kin, That all, with one consent, praise new-born gauds, Though they are made and moulded of things past ; And g-ive to dust, that is a little gilt, More laud than gilt o'er-dusted." TROILUS AND CUESSIDA NEW YORK: GEORGE P. PUTNAM & Co., 10 PARK PLACE. 1853. Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1853, BY GEORGE P. PUTNAM & CO., In the Clerk's Office for the Southern District of New York. R. CRAIOHKAD, 1'RINTKK, 53 VKSEY STRKKT. OF J. FENIMORE COOPER, THE AMERICAN NOVELIST, THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED BY THE AUTHOR. PREFACE IT is not merely with the hope that the name of Fenimore Cooper may reflect lustre upon these pages, that I have placed- my humble offering upon his shrine, but as a tribute of friendship and esteem for one I knew and valued, not only in his writings, but in the more intimate relations of private life. In the summer of 1849, 1 was a guest for several days at his residence at Cooperstown, upon the bor ders of 'Otsego Lake. It was here that I would ever recall Jiim, in calm retirement, surrounded by his interesting family. I can picture him now, seated in that quiet library, opening on a garden contrasting pleasantly in its smiling beauty, with those dark oaken cases piled with treasured lore ; upon a curiously carved table were various papers and letters, and at one end of the apartment stood a large screen from which shone forth in quaint medley, fair faces, bright land scapes, autographs of the great and wise, kings and citizens, the dead and the living, the evil and the good, mingled in fantastic union. My kind host seems to stand by my side, as he did then, linking VI PREFACE. with some familiar name or scene an agreeable remi niscence or piquant anecdote, while the day wore unconsciously away, and when the sun cast its last gleam upon his silvery hair, we wandered beyond the enclosure, strolling along the margin of the little lake, which reflected in its clear surface the purple shadows of Mount Vision, towering above it like the giant warder of those crystal waters. And then as the stars peeped out one by one we returned slowly homeward. Since then three years have passed, and in that happy home what changes have been wrought ! Little did I dream that I saw my friend for the last time, that in the rustic churchyard, where the graves of his forefathers were thickly clustered, he would so soon sleep in death. The stone that marks his last resting-place may crumble into dust, but his gifted pen has^left records more imperishable and monuments more lasting than sculptured marble or polished bronze. And for the frail fabric, upon which I have ven tured to inscribe his name, I would crave the public charity ; handle it lightly, like glass it will bear little rough usage ; one harsh, rude touch, and it will fall, even as the card houses we built in childhood. To your tender mercy, gentle reader, I consign, with all its faults and imperfections, THE ECHOES OF A BELLE. m 10 $ahm. I AM an old man, in my quiet home, and the echoes of the Past oome sighing through the desolate chambers of my heart. Those pleasant memories have cheered many a weary hour, and I would ring out their chimes again more clearly and more widely not with the loud, harsh clapper of the old bell in the church steeple, but in gentler vibration I would swell the merry peal, at Dawn, when the day is still young, the world an unopened book, and the pages of destiny unstained with tears. DAWN. CHAPTER I. A LOVELIER day never dawned upon the stately avenue of majestic oaks, boasting the growth of a century, and forming, in their interlacing branches, for more than a quarter of a mile, an archway to a most substantial stone mansion, the homestead of a southern planter. It was a bright spring morning, the birds were twittering in their leafy coverts, and the long grey moss hung in sha dowy drapery from the old oaks ; the dew was still glittering upon the leaves, and the air was sweet with the early breath of flowers ; when fairer than these voiceless children of spring, a gentle girl entered this dim aisle of Nature's Cathedral. Sweet Alice Vere I I see you now, in your simple dress, a bonnet thrown back and hanging by its ribbons about your neck, a face in cloudless purity and truth, and in your beautiful eyes an eloquence of thought almost at variance 1* 10 ECHOES OF A BELLE; with the child-like brow, and the witchery of that rosy mouth. She was eagerly looking down that long vista to the great gate at the end -of the avenue ; another glance, and she had flown towards the house, as the sound of rapidly approaching wheels became audible. Upon the steps of the portico stood Major and Mrs. Vere, a lady and gentleman of the old school, worthy scions, in their noble bearing, of their English ancestry. As a light traveling carriage drove up, there were words of welcome and warm greetings from all, for even the old family servants hastened forward to shake hands with their young masters two tall striplings, singularly engaging in their appearance. Arthur was grave and reserved beyond his years, but in his quiet face there was a gentle sweet ness, touchingly blended with manliness and strength ; whilst Jocelin, the younger brother, was a handsome off-hand youth, intelligent, and full of life and fun. Lingering behind them was another lad, young Walter Gray, the orphan son of an early and lamented companion in arms of Major Vere, during the late revolutionary struggles of his country. The youth, in his aristocratic beauty, strongly recalled that lost friend, and the Major had ever regarded young Gray with a most parental interest. Whilst Walter stood by the side of his kind host, his eyes unconsciously followed that fairy form, with her arm around her brother Arthur's neck, and her right hand clasped in Jocelin's. She was indeed a lovely picture, and well he OR, A VOICE FROM THE PAST. 11 remembered when he had shared, in younger days, that sis terly embrace. But now, Alice looked upon him as * man, for he was her senior by several years, and she had grown into her fifteenth birthday since they had met. The breakfast bell rang, and the old grey-headed butler stood at the parlor door, with his small silver tray in hand, to usher them into a room, where a bright wood fire was blazing upon the ample hearth, and a most substantial repast awaited our hungry travellers. Although the mornings were still so chilly as to make a fire agreeable, there was a window thrown open, letting in the first sweet breath of spring ; and the beautiful blossoms of the hundred-leaved rose clustered around the lattice, peep ing into that pleasant room. Just outside the casement there was a small shelf, where Alice scattered rough rice for the red birds, who built their nests in the garden beneath, and so tame were her pretty visitants, that even the merry voices within did not startle them at their morning meal. Mrs. Vere, in her morning dress with neatly plaited frills and high-crowned muslin cap, sat before an antique looking silver tea-service, dispensing fragrant mocha and souchong. Well do I remember those breakfasts at The Oaks ! those tempting hot waffles, baked in the shape of the most benign hearts ; the smoking dish of snow-white hornmony ; the rice Johnny cakes, and the delicate wafers, that looked as if one might demolish them by a touch ; and for substantiate, the venison or broiled teal, the sausages, and thinly sliced hogs- 12 ECHOES OF A BELLE; head cheese. To my boyish fancy those hearted waffles wera something quite unique in gastronomy. At breakfast time the post-boy always sent in the leathern letter bag, which Fortune, in his grey and silver livery, hand ed most deferentially to his master. If the Major had a weakness, it was his attachment to, or rather, nervous sensi tiveness as regarded the contents of this old post-bag. No hand ever ventured to open it but his own, and there was something mysterious in his manner of distributing the dif ferent letters. His wife was too far above all petty curiosity to disturb him in the enjoyment of his favorite hobty, by asking any questions ; so, after finishing his cup of coffee, he would slip off to his own quiet study and arm-chair, to read his letters and papers alone. Alice was watching her pets upon the window-sill, and Walter stood by her side ; they did not seem to find much to say, for she was still shy ; he had been such a stranger of late years among them : she remembered how he had been wont to call her his little wife : and her pretty face blushed brighter than the roses, as he laid his hand upon her fingers and gathered them to his lips. " Oh ! Walter, what will Mamma think ?" but Mamma was at the old buffet, filling up the cordial-stands and sugar-pots, and did not heed the young people. And Alice's governess, the vigilant Miss Murrel, had gone on a visit to her relatives. Jocelin's voice was now heard, calling " Walter," the lads were waiting for him to look at their dogs, but it was not OR, A VOICE PROM THE PAST. 13 until the summons was seconded by Arthur's demure face, peeping in at the door, that Walter heeded the call ; the red birds, or the hands in the glass basin filled with rough rice, were so pretty ! ECHOES OF A B s i. L E ; CHAPTER II. THE boys were in the hall where, at one end, their guns were kept, upon a broad low stand ; there, too, hung the shot-bags, hunting horns, and deer-skin pouches. Upon a row of pegs along the wall there was a most heterogeneous collection of hats, of all shapes and sorts; and over the entrance door was fastened a lordly pair of antlers, belonging to some forest king, and placed there before the lads were born, a trophy from the hunting days of their grandfather. They were soon at the foot of the garden steps ; how well the dogs remembered their old playmates ; and what a din they kept up, with their deep-baying mouths ! Alice had joined her mother in her daily walk to the Set tlement, which gleamed prettily through a dark clump of cedar trees. The cottages, some thirty in number, were neat ly whitewashed, and placed in rows, or streets, as they call them. All the men and able-bodied women had gone to their tasks, and the sick, the children, and the old women who attended them, were the only ones at home. Under a wide spreading tree, were seated a circle of little darkies, each with their cedar piggin and iron spoon ; and a fatter, OR, A VOICE FROM THE PAST. 15 more contented set of imps were never seen. In the middle of the yard, there was a fire burning under a large iron caul dron, where the soup for the mid-day meal was concocted by the head nurse. Mrs. Vere never went amongst them without being warmly welcomed. It was pleasant to see the old lady in her green .silk caleche, with a basket on her arm, filled with medicines and old linen, going from door to door, to prescribe for the sick, or to comfort the dying. Verily she fulfilled the old patriarchal law, in her excellent . and kind relation to her slaves. After the usual directions had been given, Alice and her mother walked through the grove, passing by the church where the people attended, decently clad and in respectful order, the instructions of their good pastor, every Sunday morning. The hands were hoeing in the open fields. At the sight of " old and young missus," every hat was lifted, and a happy murmur rose from every lip. There was no over work or discontent here, no hungry, ill-fed stomachs, but a cheerful class of working people full of pride and attachment for their owners. They reached the house just as the Major had dismounted from his horse, when the dressing-bell rang, and Alice ran off to her own room : her pretty room, with its fair dimity and simple furniture. Seated by the window on a low stool was Lisette, her little tire woman ; black as ebony, with brilliant teeth, a large 16 ECHOES OF A BELLE; mouth, gold hoops pendent from her ears, and a bright ban dana twisted into a turban upon her head. She did not move from her work as Alice opened the door ; the young girl stepped cautiously on, stooped over Lisette she was fast asleep, and as she woke with a start, her little mistress said very gravely, " Why ! Lisette, I do believe that you have slept all the morning over your work ; not a stitch done. Well ! I won't tell mamma this time, so come and help me dress. What shall I wear ?" Now quite awake, her busy handmaid answered, " Aye ! Missy, you nebber care 'fore to-day what gown you take ; but Mass Walter don't stand half so pretty as Mass Jocelin, I know." " Lisette, you are talking nonsense ; there, quick ! give me my dress. Dear me ! everything goes wrong to-day. What is the matter with the pins, you stupid Lisette ! Well, there's the dinner bell, and I am ready at last." With these words, Alice had flown, and at the foot of the stairs met her father, who imprinted a kiss upon the brow of his lovely child, and taking her hand in his, they entered the dining-room. After a blessing had been asked, and the soup removed the table was covered with the most admirable viands, fol lowed by an elegant dessert. Then the nuts and old Madeira were placed upon the shining mahogany ; and Mrs. Vere with Alice withdrew, leaving the gentlemen to join them in the drawing-room. Seated in her high-backed chair, very upright, with her knitting in hand, was the lady of the mansion. Click, click OR, A VOICE FROM THE PAST. 17 went the needles Mrs. Vere was strongly prejudiced against sleeping after dinner, she would not forget herself for an instant ; but the delicate fingers faltered, the click, click was interrupted, and verily there was the slightest possible approach to a nod ! Weary of the quiet room, Alice had stolen off to the gar den. And what a garden that was, with its beds of roses of every variety and kind, from the beautiful moss, and highly scented musk, down to the common daily ; and there were banks of deep blue violets, shaded by rows of orange trees, whose bridal buds gleamed through the dark foliage, filling the air with luscious perfume, and farther on was the fragrant olive with its diminutive blossoms, mingling with the spicy brown flowers of the aromatic shrub. Among the roses stood Alice, selecting the choicest and fairest for the drawing-room vase. Soon a bouquet was gathered too large for her tiny hands to hold, and a tendril from the woodbine was twisted round to bind them closer, when a brilliant butterfly, with golden wings, settled on a damask rose, the flowers were left, and away she flew, a happy thoughtless child, after the glittering rover. But eager footsteps followed hers, and smoothing her dis ordered tresses, the woman fluttered in her heart again, as Walter approached. Arthur had gone to see his old nurse, who lived in the house by the brook, which had been expressly built for 18 ECHOES OF A BELLE mammy and her old man ; they were upon the retired list, pensioners for life, with their own garden, poultry-yard, and cow. Jocelin was on his way to the stables to look after the steeds for to-morrow's hunt; he had little confidence in the antiquated veterinarian ; his orders were given to a younger groom, but privately, not to wound the pride of Uncle Ned. Walter now proposed a walk in the labyrinth at the foot of the terrace, and Alice and he were soon merrily threading its mazes. " Alice," he said, playfully, " I wish my life was like this labyrinth, with you always by my side. I should never seek to escape from its pleasant intricacies." A blush and a light laugh, as she answered, " Oh ! yes, you would . Walter, for we should become so tired of each other in this eternal round ! But there are the boys, let us join them." A slight frown contracted the brow of her companion, as he reluctantly followed. When they entered the house, lights in the tall silver can dlesticks were placed upon the table ; and tea was handed by old Fortune. After which, Mrs. Vere seated herself for a quiet game of piquet with Arthur, whilst the Major and Joce lin played backgammon. Alice sat busily netting a little green silk purse, and Walter looked up every now and then from his book, to tease or question her as to the person for whom this mysterious piece of her own handiwork was destined. OR, A VOICE FROM THE PAST. 19 The purse was not quite finished when the hall clock struck nine, and with a kind good night, the little party dis persed. 20 ECHOES OF A BELLE; CHAPTER III. AROUND the breakfast table, the next morning, were only the Major, his lady and daughter. After Mrs. Vere had accom plished her usual routine of duty, the old family coach, with its yellow body perched upon tall spider-looking wheels, drove up to the front door, and Uncle Ned, in all the pride of a livery whose silver lace was rather tarnished, by its care ful preservation for state occasions, was in his glory : seated upon the high, narrow box, whip in hand, stiff and erect as pasteboard. The footman had let down a perfect ladder of steps, when Mrs. Vere, in a black silk bonnet pitched on the top of her high cap, and in an ample silk gown, climbed into the coach, followed by her inseparable basket, and her pretty Alice, to pay a visit to a neighboring family. The knitting was unrolled, and the old horses jogged along at a snail's pace, whilst Uncle Ned slept upon his outpost, for the team knew their way to Colonel Summers's quite as well as he did. After an hour's drive, the carriage stopped before a long white house, with a wide piazza, whose rough exterior was covered by a clustering vine of the yellow jessamine. A VOICE FROM THE PAST. 21 Mrs. Summers had just presented her lord, with a tenth addition to his family, and Mrs. Vere's basket of jellies and blancmange Avas conveyed to her delicate friend. Colonel Summers received them, looking very little elated by his good fortune in such a healthful and numerous pro geny. He was a planter in a small way, and found it hard to make the two ends meet. Lucy, his eldest daughter, was a pretty girl of fourteen, with blonde curls and hazel eyes ; but, left to herself to run wild, she needed pruning sadly, a choice but neglected vine. Some of her happiest days had been passed at " The Oaks," and Mrs. Vere had now come to ask the Colonel to allow Lucy to spend some time with them, that she might share Miss Murrel's superintendence and instruction with her own little girl. The parlor, where they sat, seemed, to Alice, to swarm with children, like flies in June ; there were babies of all sizes, down to the last new type, smothered in flannel, in the arms of a fat nurse. "When the wine and silver basket of cake were handed to the visitors, a little red-headed urchin, with great round eyes, climbed up behind the Colonel's chair, and pulling him by his coat collar, pointed to the cakes with their smoothly iced tops, and cried out, " Oh ! pa, I want one dem cakes wid de kiver on 'um." Alice stuffed a bit of cake into her own mouth to hide a laugh, and the boy obtained the summit of his ambition. They were again on their way home ; the venerable steeds 22 ECHOES OF A BELLE * quickened their pace, and Uncle Ned dozed upon the box when a sudden jolt brought the black silk bonnet into rude contact with the top of the coach, and Alice was bounced off the seat. Mrs. Vere let down the glass between her groom and self, calling out, " Why ! Ned, you must have been asleep to drive over such a stump !" Straightening himself in his seat, the old man replied, " Missus ! I nebber shut my eye once, it was only an accident, marm." However, there were no more jolts, and they reached home with only a suspicious dent or two in the stately bonnet. The boys had been gone since sunrise, and dinner was postponed an hour later on their account ; when the sound of a horn was followed by the noise of horses' feet coming at full speed through the avenue, and Alice stood with her father upon the steps to receive the young sportsmen, who were soon busily recounting their adventures. They had had rare sport, and Jocelin had shot a magnificent buck. After the lads had changed their gear and dined, the whole party went out upon the lawn to see the spoils of the hunt. There the noble animal lay with his proud antlers in the dust, the blood still welling from his throat, and his large bright eye glazed in death. Alice could not look upon him long ; she turned away with tears in her kind eyes, and after Major Vere had given orders for the disposal of the deer, they returned to coffee in the draw ing-room. That night the little purse went on famously, and OR, A VOICE FROM THE PAST. 2 CHAPTER XVIII. APRIL was still chary of its sunshine in the streets of Phila delphia, and the leafless trees spread out their bare limbs like ragged beggars, craving the bounty of the coming seasons. But how great the heart of nature, how warm, how vivify ing its silent charities, how rapidly the naked hills are clothed * in verdure, how soon almost magically those weird branches put forth new shoots and bursting buds, until the whole earth seems to laugh and sing with gladness, In the sombre domicile of Miss Menlove no such genial influence had warmed its gentle inmates into life. It had been a long, dull winter even for the little " Beam ;" her step seem ed light as ever, but the sunshine was not in her smile, and that sweet face, with its floating curls and blue eyes, was softened into a pale starlight beauty, that was too solemn and too still for Marion. And the cloud gathered again upon the brow of Aunt Miriam she was sure a man was the author of all this mischief. Bravely the little " Beam" strug gled to hide from every eye her secret sorrow, but Jocelin's irregular and unsatisfactory letters had pained her more than she herself was willing to allow. Still she resolved to conceal 160 ECHOES OF A BELLE; this from her aunt, until an officious friend opened that lady's eyes to the state of affairs, assuring her that she had heard, from good authority, that Jocelin Vere was desperately in love with another lady. When Miss Menlove first broached this subject to her little niece, Marion heard her in silence and with many tears ; "but when urged to write to Jocelin, and break off all further intercourse with him, that weak heart grew strong, the little Beam wavered not, and the steadfast light of her own true nature shone out, as she exclaimed " Nay, I cannot doubt him ; I will not nourish this evil sus- * picion, for when I cease to trust I shall no longer love." The cloud still looked threatening, and Marion longed for the spring. "Anything," she sighed, "but this cold, cheerless snow, it makes me think of death." The winter was gone at last ; the sunshine and flowers again smiled upon the earth, but Marion lay pale and languid on her couch, her gentle eyes gazing through the open win dow, into the deep blue ether beyond. Aunt Miriam sat alone in her well-swept parlor, and the cloud grew darker upon her brow, as she prepared herself to meet Jocelin Vere with lowering displeasure, when her nota ble hand-maid, Biddy, intimated that a lady wished to speak with " the mistress." The visitor was admitted, and as Miss Menlove leisurely surveyed a tall figure robed in black, the deep veil was put OR, A VOICE FROM THE PAST. 161 aside, and revealed the care-worn, altered face of her once beautiful rival, the wife of one whose early inconstancy had steeped in wormwood a heart formed for tender sympathy. But the widow's sombre garb told its own tale of sorrow, and Miss Menlove removed her spectacles, to wipe the mois ture from the glasses, as her visitor spoke. It was a common story, one we hear every day, of bereavement and death, o poverty and trial : a desolate woman, tenderly and delicately bred, left to struggle with stern necessity. But that fainting spirit had been roused to exertion by the strong instinct of maternal love. Pride was conquered, and humbly she now solicited the patronage of those who had known her in better days, f , -i* Miss Menlove not only promised efficient aid, but her whole face seemed glorified as she tied on an antiquated silk bonnet, and emerged from her dwelling by the side of her sorrow- stricken companion. When the first rays of the rising sun fell upon the statue of Memnon, no greater miracle was wrought than the phe nomenon of a cold and silent heart thus suddenly warmed into fervid life by the glowing charity of Christian love. Again Biddy was summoned to the street door, and upon opening it, summarily announced that " the mistress " was out. She seemed unwilling to hold further parley with the enemy, when a gentleman hastily brushed past her, and Jocelin Vere stood within the fortress. Through the quiet house floated a sound that filled tho 162 ECHOES OF A BELLE; fluttering heart of Marion with joy. She slipped from her couch, and stole softly to the staircase, peeping over into the hall below. Yes, it was his voice, asking for her. How could she resist it ? Her foot was scarcely upon the first step, when Jecelin's dark eyes and manly face looked up eagerly, as if seeking some bright messenger from a better Morld. One glance at the angelic apparition, so ethereal, so fragile in its beauty, that he trembled for its reality, and the little Beam was borne tenderly in his arms down the long stair way, and placed upon a sofa in the drawing-room. She was faint and weak, and as he knelt by her, chafing the little hand in his, a smile played around the pretty mouth, but the laughing dimples were gone, and in their place were tears, foiling, from the soft lashes, upon her cheek. ********* As Miss Menlove returned to her own mansion, she won dered who could have opened the long-deserted drawing-room, for Marion had not entered it, even to touch the old harpsi chord, for months. The good lady was not one who de murred long upon any subject, so she marched boldly into the room, and suddenly confronted Jocelin Vere. The dim shadow of a wrathful frown gathered upon her brow, but Marion sprang lightly towards her, and drawing the old bonnet down until her own fair head was lost behind its ample crown, she whispered, u Dear Aunt Miriam ! forgive him for my sake ; he has done nothing so very wrong." OR, A VOICE FROM THE PAST. 163 The bonnet wavered and swerved like a rusty weather-cock in a gale, when the wind shifted to the right quarter, the clouds were swept away, and the face of Miriam cleared up like a summer sky in June. Far away in a distant land is a stranger grave, and buried with that sleeping dust was Miriam Menlove's bitter enmity to man. 164 ECHOES OF A BELLE; CHAPTER XIX. THE old Oaks were crowned with vernal beauty, and the sweeping moss hung glittering with dew from overarch ing boughs, beneath whose shade a merry party were dis persed. Gay voices echoed through the avenue, and fairy footsteps were returning from the garden as breakfast was announced. Mrs. Vere, in her snowy cap, was already seated at the table, where her youthful guests were soon collected. The post-bag had been duly opened, and as Langdon received his despatches from the Major's hand, he glanced nervously at the superscription of his different letters, for the increas ing difficulties and misunderstanding between England and America, threatened a renewal of hostilities, and furnished Langdon's friends at home with strong arguments for urg ing his return. He became silent and abstracted, and Alice's eyes were fixed upon him with such earnest, but unconscious interest, that when Walter Gray addressed her a casual remark, she started, and her blushes deepened as she saw the sarcastic smile upon his face. There was a very perceptible frown upon the brow of OR, A VOICE FROM THE PAST. 165 Alice Vere, and those gentle eyes flashed scornfully on Walter, as she rose from her seat. Now, the heroine of our story is no ideal being, but a liv ing, breathing woman, and we must confess that to us a bello of no metal is almost as senseless as a bell without a tongue. Several plans had been discussed for the morning's amuse ment, and Langdon, who had recovered from the stupifying effects of a very long epistle, was eagerly soliciting the plea sure of a ride with Miss Vere. She did not accede to his request, and when he urged it more warmly, declined upon the plea that the^ indisposition of one of her fair guests would detain her at home. We know not whether it was purely accidental, but when Alice crossed the hall, a moment later, Walter was standing there alone. She would have passed him hurriedly, but he playfully prevented this, and, as he held both hands reluctant prisoners, looked into her downcast face, when suddenly those beautiful eyes were raised, and their glance kindled as she haughtily demanded her release. The name of Alice was spoken very gently, no other sound was linked with it, and yet how much was expressed in the simple utterance of that name, and the intonation of Walter's voice. Once more the bird was free to roam, but she remained motionless, as if bondage were not so irksome, nor freedom so joyous as anticipated. Walter had vanished, and Alice now passed on towards the room of her invalid friend. 166 ECHOES OF A BELLE; Patient and uncomplaining, lay a gentle girl upon her pillow, while the mirthful voices of her young companions rose from the garden beneath. Alice stooped to kiss that pallid cheek, and as she bound those throbbing temples, there were grateful thanks and whispered entreaties that she should not remain longer by her side, but still Alice tarried until that aching head was soothed and lulled to rest, when she wandered to the library in search of a book. It was an unusual hour for the Major to be at home, and Alice was surprised to find him still seated in his study, so preoccupied in mind, that he did not notice her entrance ; she stole behind his chair, and parting the gray hair from his forehead, softly kissed it. He looked up smiling, and exclaimed, "Ah ! you little witch, I was just thinking of you. How many hearts have you stolen ? There has been a young knight with me craving a boon I am loath to grant, and yet it is very selfish to wish to keep you all to myself ; but what shall we do without you ? How dull the old house will seem, when you have taken wing with your gay wooer, far over the sea." The Major was arrested by Alice's wondering eyes and her changing cheek, as she replied, "Bear papa, I will never leave you." " Nay, my pretty one," returned the Major, " he loves you well, and deserves this sacrifice. I know of no one to whom I would sooner resign you." Alice crept closer to him, and whispered, "Father, did vou tell Walter this " OB, A VOICE FROM THE PAST. 167 If a pistol had suddenly exploded near him, the good Major could not have been more startled, as he rose hurried ly, declaring that the child was mad. Who ever dreamt of Walter, or of consulting him in the matter ! No, a more exalt ed position awaited his daughter. As the wife of Reginald Langdon, both rank and fortune would surround her. But Alice did not seem elated by so bright a destiny ; the volume, behind which her face had been screened, was thrown upon the table, as she turned towards him, saying, " Father I cannot accept Mr. Langdoa's offer, I do not love him." "Tush, child," ejaculated the old gentleman, "you will iearn to love him." That little trembling hand rested upon his, and those pleading eyes were raised, as she murmured, " Would you send your little Alice from you ? It would break my heart to go ; did you not say you were unwilling to give me away ? " Her gentle earnestness brought tears into his eyes, and, folding her in his arms, he whispered, " Well, darling, you shall have your own way, but think seriously of it ; such an offer is not to be met with every day, and upon my soul, child, I do not see what more you could require in a husband. But you shall decide for yourself ; your mother might have managed this business better, but I never could refuse you anything." Then ringing for a servant, he ordered his horse, and soon after left the room. He had scarcely gone, when Alice 168 ECHOES OF A BELLE regretted that she had not asked him to speak to Mr. Lang- don, and announce her decision at once. Quick as thought, she flew to the portico, but the Major was already mounted upon his sturdy nag. Alice called out, " Stop ! Papa, I have something to tell you." " Yes, yes, I know all about it," added her Father. "Woman-like, you have already changed your mind." So saying, he gave old Dumpling a touch with his whip, looked back as if enjoying poor Alice's demure face, whilst she stood mournfully shaking her pretty head at him, and then he cantered off at a brisk pace. When the party were assembled at dinner, Alice evident ly avoided meeting Langdon's eye, and during the afternoon contrived never to be left alone with him. She hoped that her father would himself settle the matter as kindly and deli cately as possible, and spare her the pain of an interview with Mr. Langdon. But Mrs. Vere disapproved of any fur ther interference ; she thought it a mere whim of the child's, and still counted much upon the success of the suit when pleaded by the eloquent lips of so handsome a man as Langdon. If Mrs. Vere had a fault (and who has not their own little private catalogue stowed away in some long forgotten corner ?) it was one she least imagined herself guilty of, a most unre- publican pride of birth ; and that aspiring nature, which in a man would have soared to the high places of the earth, pent OR, A VOICE FROM THE PAST. 109 up in the more circumscribed sphere of woman's life, only flashed out in occasional sparks, showing where the flint struck fire, but never kindling into blaze. 8 170 ECHOES OF A BELLE; CHAPTER XX. IT was the first of May, blooming, lovely May, bride of the summer, wreathed in flowery garlands, with the tears of April still upon her cheek. I hail thee, sweet May, perhaps more fondly because I feel it may be the last time I shall look upon thy fkce ; when spring again returns, thy soft dew may fall upon the old man's grave. Age has little left but regrets ; the world has lost its charm to those who, standing upon a mere atom of earth, find it fast crumbling beneath their feet. But, ye light-hearted children, hopeful, smiling youth, it is meet that you should greet life with buoyant heart and unfaltering step, for to you there is no future and no past ; your sun is ever at meridian, casting no shadow upon the glowing present. And to Reginald Langdon how enchanting seemed that present, lighted by the smile of Alice Vere, for he was of too sunny a temperament to dream of doubt or uncertainty. It was on just such a morning as we would choose for a ramble in those silent, solemn forests, which at the South extend for miles around most of the dwellings of its secluded OR, A VOICE FROM THE PAST. l7l but hospitable gentry, that the party at The Oaks strolled through the gate, and then scattered into separate groups, when Alice found herself suddenly deserted by all her gentle mates, alone with one whose fascinations were certainly dan gerous. Ensnared like a frightened dove, there was no escape for her now. The woods were redolent with perfume, and the brook rip pled softly at her feet, but lower and more musical than the stream, was the pleading voice of love. Poor bird ! how she trembled, and yet this must not be ; captivity without love to gild it, would be worse than death. The drooping head was raised, and then came that answering word ; low and mournfully it sounded in his ear, a plaining note, the death knell of his cherished hopes, and she who had caused this sorrow seemed alike stricken with pain. Her gentle, pitying nature was half tempted now to yield, when whispering like the breeze came the memory of a love to which alone her heart responded. ******** There were bright eyes and eager faces peering through the half closed Venetians, as Alice and Langdon walked slowly to waids the house. "Look!" whispered a laughing Hebe, " there they are at last. Mercy ! What a stupid thing this love must be ! Not a single word do they seem to be saying regularly talked out. May the fates deliver me from anything so melancholy !" This fervent ejaculation was followed by a peal so joyous 172 ECHOES OF A BELLE; that it could have come from no heart less innocent than May Burnard's. So thought Arthur Vere, as he looked into that blooming face ; her playful mirth drew him from sad thoughts, thoughts of one who had passed from earth to that Spirit Land, where his heart had followed. A few months since he had received a little package seal ed with black. None knew its contents save himself, for the name of Constance was written upon the page within. Alice did not appear at dinner, and when she joined the circle in the evening, she was spared any embarrassing curiosity by Arthur, who immediately came to her relief, and so adroitly did he manage to distract general attention from his sister's pale face that even May Burnard's mis chievous intentions were foiled. Tea had been already handed, and there was a snug little whist table, at which Mrs. Vere presided, but the lady's usual luck had deserted her, and she soon resigned her seat to the Major, consoling herself with overlooking his hand, whilst her ample fan tapped him suggestively on the shoulder, or waved triumphantly over his success. Alice had deserted the gay circle within for a walk upon the terrace. She did not tremble when Langdon approached her now, nor shun him as before ; her face was very pale, and as the moonlight fell upon the snowy dress, draped around those fair proportions, she looked like the beautiful OR, A VOICE FROM THE PAST. l*/3 Galatea of the Sculptor God, cold and motionless as marble, until Langdon spoke of parting, when a sigh stole from those silent lips, and tears glittered beneath the drooping lids, as he exclaimed, "Alice, you have made even pity, which I despise from others, sweet, and yet I dare not tarry longer here, for how can I see you and not rebel against my fate ! Why should I linger, since the love which I had so fondly hoped would have surrounded you with happiness, has brought you only sorrow and regret V " Mr. Langdon," murmured Alice, " were I insensible to such merit as yours, what has passed between us would cause me less pain ; you deserve more than I have to give, a heart that has reflected no other image than your own." Langdon raised her hand tenderly to his lips, and then, for the first time, suspected that the love he had coveted was another's. 174 ECHOESOF A BELLE; CHAPTER XXI. IT was Sunday, and the coach was at the door punctually to convey the ladies to the parish church, distant some five miles from The Oaks. Breakfast had been despatched an hour earlier than usual, and the cavalcade of saddle horses and vehicles formed quite an imposing array, as they drew up in regular order ; Uncle Ned presiding over the ceremonies with due solem nity, seated upon his high box, and looking down con temptuously upon every other turn-out but his own. Alice's spirited little steed stood impatiently pawing the ground, when Arthur led him to the steps, and assisted his sister as she sprang lightly into her seat. The forces were now mustered, Luna in a spotless kerchief was installed behind her mistress's carriage, when the whole party swept gaily down the avenue. Walter formed one of the cortege surrounding Alice, as she dashed on ahead, defying all Uncle Ned's rules of propriety ; although the old man, who in former years had followed his master's fortunes in camp and field, gave her the usual military salute, lifting the back of his hand res pectfully to his antiquated beaver. OR, A VOICE FROM THE PAST. 1*75 The road was unusually smooth, and the distance was shortened by the elastic spirits of the young people, as they drove rapidly along. But the sight of the church, sur rounded by its wide-spreading trees, seemed to silence theii hilarity, and the ladies settled their bonnets and smoothed their ruffled plumes, before entering the humble chapel, whilst the gentlemen stood grouped without, talking in a subdued voice, and exchanging greetings with their country neighbors. It was a solemn old church that, of rude exterior, erected before the Revolution, by the English ; the roof was covered with lichens and moss, and the rough brick walls were dark with age. Within was uncarved, unvarnished wood-work, a plain reading-desk and pulpit, and high-backed pews, where one might kneel in privacy, Mrs. Vere's elevated black bonnet being just visible, as she sat in her own especial corner. And now the congregation from far and near were assem bled, the clergyman opened his book, and read, " The Lord is in his holy Temple, let all the earth keep silence before him." How impressive seemed this sublime announcement, ut tered amidst the silent woods in that simple, rustic church ! The time-worn Bible, from which the lessons of the day were read, was associated with the revolutionary struggles of the early colonists. It had been taken from the altar, where it now rested, by some British soldiers, during the war, and carried to England, where many years afterwards it was accidentally recovered, purchased at a book-stall i 176 ECHOES or A BELLE; the streets of London by an American, and restored to the spot to which it so sacredly belonged. The simple hymn which now ascended in that Christian temple was sung by no orchestral choir there were nc operatic selections, no artistical efforts, but the familiar strain was caught up heartily by all the congregation, and it sounded like the voice of humble praise, not of triumph or display. The minister of this little parish was much beloved, and many were the kindnesses rendered to the good man and his family. His old-fashioned and peculiar enunciation might sometimes provoke a smile among the younger and less serious of his listeners, but even their attention was arrested by the earnest faith and exalted piety which marked his discourse. I have heard the beautiful ritual of the Episcopal Church read in the fashionable Gothic structures of the present day, by priests in snowy robes, from richly gilded books that rested upon crimson cushions, whilst the light streamed through gorgeously-stained windows upon the marble font and tessellated pavement of the chancel, and it seemed to me that I had been admitted into some Eastern fane, a place of luxury and repose, but not the worshipping place of the Christian's God. And yet, are not such the crowded assemblies to which you hasten, my gentle reader, on the Lord's day ? In the comfortable, cushioned seat where you lounge away a few un- OR, A VOICE FROM THE PAST. 177 appropriated hours, turning over the leaves of your elegantly- bound manual, and eyeing askance your neighbor's last new bonnet or gay dress, are you offering the incense of praise and thanksgiving to your Maker ? In that brilliant parterre of waving plumes and flowers, of cashmeres and satins, velvets and ermine, there are faces lovelier than all the wealth of the Indies, and eyes brighter than the diamonds of Golconda. But it is not here that we would view these charms. Oh! flowers of immortal birth, come with veiled faces and in meek attire to kneel at the altar of your God ! Let fashion and the world surround you elsewhere, if you will, but not in the sanctuary of the Most High, lest ye profane the temple of the Lord. The little congregation were now dispersing, after some very innocent gossip, to their distant homes. Mrs. Vere had a certain well-laden basket secretly consigned to the Pastor's chaise, as the Major and herself lingered in conversation with the excellent man. Alice and her companions entered the little churchyard. No costly monuments or polished shafts marked the resting-places of its dead ; the graves were over grown with weeds ; a few wild flowers smiled faintly among them, and dark cedars threw their sombre shadow upon the slanting stones. In this silent cemetery there was nothing to deceive the living. Death seemed here what it really is, solemn and mysterious, not like life, bright with evanescent flowers a garden or a showy pageant blazoned with the deeds of man. 7* 178 ECHOES OF A BELLE; * * * * * * Bounding lightly along the road with arching neck and flowing mane, sped the beautiful little animal upon which Alice was mounted. Walter Gray, like a true knight, rode at her bridle rein, but Alice seemed never to have forgiven him that provoking smile, or her forcible detention some mornings since ; and now that Langdon had gone, her manner was even more dis tant than before. The rest of the party were still several miles from the avenue, when Walter stooped to unlatch the gate, and with out dismounting, held it open for his fair companion to pass. She dashed hastily through, and in his eagerness to follow her, his spur accidentally touched his horse's flank, when the half-open gate swung forward and struck the horse so vio lently that the terrified animal plunged wildly, and Walter was thrown against a tree. In an instant Alice was kneeling by his side, trembling and terror-stricken, for there was no sign of life in that pale, unconscious face. A sickening dread crept over her, as Walter's head rested heavily upon her arm, when a faint flush passed over his countenance, and the tearful eyes of Alice Vere were mirrored in his own. As he slowly revived she whispered, '* Walter,, are you hurt ? It was my foolish, impatient haste which caused this accident." Never had waking moment seemed so blessed to Walter OR, A VOICE FROM TH^ PAST. 179 Gray, and although too bewildered to' comprehend her mean ing at once, after a brief interval he replied ** Nay, Alice, I have only my own carelessness to chide ; and how can I regret a mischance which has purchased for me such happiness !" That trembling arm was gently withdrawn, and as the carriages now approached, Gray made an effort to rise, 'but his injury was more serious than he imagined ; he felt dizzy and faint, and while anxious faces and kindly aid surrounded him, sank back again, unconscious. it It was several days before Walter was pronounced con valescent, and Alice, who had flitted about his room, leaving cheering gifts of fruit or flowers, had vanished now that he no longer needed such gentle care ; but in the shadowy depths of those beautiful eyes, as they had bent tearfully over him, he had read more than he dared trust himself to hope. The party at The Oaks had subsided into the usual' family circle, and Mrs. Vere's preparations were now made for the annual visit to their sea-shore residence, during the few months of summer, when the malaria from the rich alluvial lands made their stay on the plantation unsafe. Alice seemed entirely engrossed in these domestic arrange ments, and Walter, in despair of obtaining even a casual glimpse of her fair face, had retired to the study, to while away the long afternoon. He read until the deepening twi light, so suggestive of repose in its quiet gloom, crept into * 180 ECHOES OF A BELLE; the room, when the book was closed and he sank into the old leathern arm-chair, with its high back, and deep, yielding seat. Now the spirit of slumber hovered over this especial chair most magically, and as a light, rustling sound, soft as the breath of the summer wind, stole into his dreamy ear, he fancied that a fair form stood near him, and so bright was the vision that he started into sudden consciousness, as a flut tering robe swept past ; he grasped the delicate fabric, and his arm entwined the living embodiment of his dream. A faint cry burst from the trembling captive, but whisper ed words soon soothed her fears to rest ; she looked up con fidingly into Walter's face, and every doubt was merged in the blissful realitv of a love which neither time nor tria. had estranged. OR, A VOICE FROM THE PAST. 181 CHAPTER XXII. UPON a barren island washed by the waters of the Atlantic, where not a shrub or spear of grass was to be seen, and where only a few isolated palmettoes lifted their plumed heads above the rude, unpretending residences, stretching along the shore, was the summer home of Alice Vere. There was a charm in this island life, in its freedom from the restraints of etiquette and fashion ; the intercourse of the families assembled in these temporary abodes was marked by kindly hospitality and friendly feeling. You forgot the unpainted, rough exterior of the mansion, in the generous cheer and elegant courtesy that welcomed you within. Through those large uncarpeted rooms, and long piazzas, the sea breeze played healthfully, and the sound of the waves broke musically upon the ear. During the heat of the day the ladies seldom ventured beyond their own veranda, but when the disk of the setting sun had disappeared below the horizon, doors were flung wide, and the whole population swarmed upon the beach. There were troops of merry urchins wading in the water, and tiny children paddling with their naked feet in pools left by 182 ECHOES OF A BELLE; the receding waves ; whilst among the different equipage? that rolled along the broad sandy shore, the old yellow coach shone out resplendently. But, when the little ones were gathered home again, and the inoon threw its silvery light over the placid sea, what a trysting spot for lovers was that silent, wavegirt strand ! And as Alice wandered with Walter upon the beach, the love so long and silently cherished not only shed its bright ray over the present, but the shadowy future seemed to them radiant with cloudless light. Arthur Vere had been the confidant of their first whisper ed vows, and the sight of their happiness filled his heart with tranquil joy, during the short respite which he now allowed himself from the toils of business. His favorite recreation was fishing. He seldom returned from the day's excursion until late in the evening, when his boat might be seen gliding into a quiet cove ; the Jittle craft was then moored, and Arthur strolled homeward, followed by his faithful Primus, the humble companion of those fre quent voyages. These expeditions were the cause of some anxiety to Mrs. Vere, but Arthur evidently needed relaxation and amusement, and when she saw his pale face wearing a more healthful hue, and that bright smile beaming upon her, as in his boy ish days, she chided her idle fears, and only welcomed him the more joyfully at evening. It was one bright mormng in August that the little OR, A VOICE FROM THE PAST. 185 bark left its moorings, freighted with a larger party than usual. Their hopes, of success were amply fulfilled, many fish were caught during the day, and when the most choice had been selected for their repast, they made for land, running into a little bay, where a solitary palmetto offered them its scanty shade. Here Primus exercised his culinary powers, and their din ner would have satisfied the most epicurean taste. After the young fishermen had regaled themselves upon this dainty fare, preparations were made for a return home. The sky had become suddenly overcast, but the wind was in their favor, and there were no apprehensions of an approach ing storm. ' The boat bounded lightly over the sea, and Arthur was again at the helm, but, while his gay companions laughed and sang merrily around him, he remained silent and abstracted, until his attention was aroused by the ever watch ful Primus, who pointed out the unmistakable signs of a squall. The necessary precautions were hardly taken when a vivid flash of lightning illumined the leaden sky, followed by a deafening peal ; the ocean seemed roused from its lethargic slumber, as a sudden gust swept over its surface ; the quiver ing vessel bent beneath the gale, and Arthur saw there was but one chance left, to double the cape, jutting out before them, in order to effect a landing on the other side, where they would find comparatively smooth water. He gave his 184 ECHOES OF A BELLE; directions to Primus, and then added, cheerfully, " We are only a short distance from the shore, and even if the boat should be capsized in turning the point, we are all good swimmers, and must strike out boldly for the land." Again the thunder pealed, whilst the whole sky blazed with electric fire; the little crew were hushed and awe struck, as the heavens scowled wrathfully above them. Arthur alone seemed tranquil and undismayed ; there was a strange light upon his brow, and in his eye, that even in this hour of dread suspense, struck those who gazed upon him. As they neared the coast their slight bark rode safely upon the crested waves, and there was a moment's lull in the storm ; when just as they were rounding the Cape, the wind rose with redoubled fury, and a sudden flaw struck the boat, which was instantly capsized. As she filled, the whole party swam towards the shore. They were within a few yards of it, when Primus, who made slower progress than the rest, called out piteously, " Oh ! master, for God's sake, save me ! " Arthur instantly turned, while his companions gained the beach. The wind had now lashed the whole sea into sheets of foam, and, as he breasted a towering billow, his friends lost sight of him from the land.^Almost blinded by the spray, they strained their eyes to obtain another glimpse of their companion, calling loudly upon his name ; but there was no OR, A VOICE FROM THE PAST. 185 answer or sound, save the booming waves along the coast, and the tempest raging fiercely around them. With the first streaks of returning dawn, several figures might be seen wandering along the beach. The sea now lay calm and tranquil, as an infant lulled on its mother's breast, and there was a rosy blush over the waters, reflected like a smile upon its rest. The persons who were grouped together upon the strand, paused as they reached the point where the boat had been upset the evening previous. And well might they pause, for upon those shelving sands, side by side, lay the master and the slave, with hand clasped in hand, as if even in death ; they were still linked together by those kindly bonds of gratitude and affection that in life existed between them. It is not here that I would touch upon a subject on which already too much has been said. I would merely assert the truth, when I add, that the life of the poor African was, in his master's eyes, of equal value with his own, and that for him this sacrifice was really made. You will say it was only an act of common humanity, and so it was ; but how few of our northern brethren who prate to us of the wrongs of slavery would have perilled thus much for the poor negro. What a night was passed within the home which Arthur had left a few hours since, so full of peace and gladness. 180 ECHOES OF A BELLE; There was no sleep for those anxious watchers, only prayer and earnest longings for the morn. It came at last, and with it tidings that smote those faint ing hearts even to the dust. We will not look upon that mother's agony, when the fearful truth was first revealed ; such grief is too sacred for intrusion, but " in the midst of judgment, there is One who remembereth mercy." Her distracted prayer was answered, and she was again permitted to look upon the face of her beloved son, although the spirit dwelt no more on earth. As Alice knelt by that brother's side, she heard not Walter's soothing words, for cold as those pale lips was the hand he clasped in his. How beautiful in its deep repose was the face of Arthur Vere ; upon the lofty brow and chiselled mouth was a radiant peace that seemed to tell how blest he was in his immortal home. A bowed and stricken man stood near, gazing mourn fully upon the dead. That fair vine, in all its promise, was laid low, and the parent stem seemed crushed and broken by its fall. Oh ! ye who sorrow thus, bow humbly beneath " the chastening rod ;" time will bind up your bleeding wounds, and the memory of that loved one will become a golden link to draw you heavenward, " for where your treasure is, there will your heart be also." 10 toilig|t THE shadow on the dial-plate has passed the hour of noon ; how we should weary of the dazzling glory of the mid-day sun, could we not turn to the softer shades of evening, for repose. In the morning of life Time seems ever tardy, and we would gladly speed his flight to the goal of all our hopes ; thirsting for knowledge, for manhood, and for strength, we long for the meri dian, and when it is reached, what years of unrest and toil are ours! As we reap the ripened fnut of seed early sown, we are still looking for richer and more abundant harvest, forgetful that the evening draweth nigh, and ere half our golden dreams are realized, the day is spent, and in the misty Twilight we sit down to count our losses and our gains. TWILIGHT. AT the commencement of the war of 1812 Jocelin Vere had been roused from the calm contentment of married life, by the stern call of duty. In the glory of those exciting scenes his daring spirit found ample opportunities of distinction, and when peace was declared, in the spring of 1815, his name was honorably mentioned for promotion. ****** The assurance of Jocelin's safety diffused light and hope once more within that saddened home at The Oaks, where Alice ministered dutifully to her parents, refusing to leave them in their sorrow and anxiety. Walter's frequent visits alone enlivened her seclusion, and the welcome Alice gave him, not only whispered patience, but inspired to renewed exertion. With steady purpose and unfaltering courage he toiled to redeem past misfortune, and to create a fitting home for so fair a bride. How few who thus nerve them selves to battle manfully with the difficulties of life, are ever overcome ! 190 ECHOES OF A BELLE; There is one whose humble fortunes were closely linked with Alice Vere's from early childhood, over whose bereave ment I have passed with what may seem unfeeling silence, Had I possessed the dramatic skill of a writer whose recent popular work has presented to the public an exalted ideal of the negro race, a pathetic interest might have been thrown around the widowed Lisette ; but I would simply record the truth that bereaved heart was soon solaced, and another was installed in the vacant place of Primus. NOT can I believe in the delicate and refined sensibilities which Mrs. Stowe has attributed to this peculiarly marked people. This lady has done more for the cause of slavery than she imagined, when, in the character of Uncle Tom, she elevates the institution itself, for freedom could never have developed such perfection ; to spiritualize and ennoble the poor African, she has made use of the very system she so loudly denounces. * * * * * * * * * In Fourth street Jocelin's anticipated return illumined the old domicile with a flood of sunshine, as the little " Beam" flew from room to room, proclaiming the joyful news. During her husband's absence a new and engrossing love had been vouchsafed to that trembling heart ; Marion was the mother of a blooming boy, who bore the name of Arthur. As our naval hero entered, unannounced, the home where he had left a weeping, sorrowful wife, why did he pause OR, A VOICE FROM THE PAST. 191 before ascending that familiar stairway, as if he scarcely dared trust himself to glance beyond it ? This was indeed the Jacob's ladder of his dream, revealing only angel figures to his longing sight for there, where he had so often pictured her, stood his lovely wife with her cherub child. It was no illusion, but a smiling reality, which Jocelin clasped fervently to his heart. There were no more yawning separations to divide them, the newly-gained commission was resigned, and when, a few days later, Edward Wallace joined the family group, Marion's happiness was complete. The gallant conduct of the young Lieutenant was noted among many of those brilliant successes of American sea manship, that surprised not only the enemy, but even our own countrymen, most of whom little anticipated such results. Jocelin's presence was eagerly coveted elsewhere, and towards the fall preparations were made for their journey South. Nothing could persuade Aunt Miriam to migrate, and the house seemed sadly desolate when the little " Beam" and her baby were really gone. But Miss Menlove's active charities were soon warmly enlisted in her nephew's behalf ; contrary to her usual instinct, she seemed bent upon some matrimonial scheme, involving the happiness of the brave Captain. And when she intimated, in a business-like way, her bene-* volent designs, Wallace laughingly suggested advertising for 192 ECHOES OF A BELLE; the article forthwith, and lighting his cigar in that sanctum of purity, a privilege never before granted to mortal man, strolled into the streets. On returning some hours later, as he approached their usual sitting-room, a strain of rare melody greeted him from within ; the voice was not so bird- like or joyous as Marion's ; in its deep tone was a power and feeling that seemed to come straight from the heart, and as the last sweet cadence vibrated upon the listener's ear, Wallace passed on towards his room, wondering who this syren could be, at the same time he firmly resolved to with stand any secret machinations of Aunt Miriam's. After bestowing more than ordinary care upon the external man, he entered the parlor, where the fair vocalist now sat very demurely taking up the stitches in Miss Menlove's knitting. The Captain mentally ejaculated, " Some pen sioner, perhaps, on my Aunt's bounty, and I am an asylum designed for the distressed damsel." This pleasant little surmise was hardly concluded, when he was formally pre sented; the lady bowed slightly as Wallace advanced, lifted her dark gray eyes for a moment to his face, and then rested them steadily upon the knitting. She was not critically beautiful, the whole expression of her countenance was concentrated in those speaking eyes. But there was some irresistible charm in the manner of Isabel Ayer, and a dignified repose that obtained for her universal respect, although she was only a teacher in the school established by her widowed mother, the lady whom we may remember OR, A VOICE FROM THE PAST. 193 Miss Menlove having so kindly befriended some years since. And did Wallace " refuse to hear the voice of the charmer" when she sang again that witching )ay, could he be deaf to those entrancing sounds ? Nay, he listened until the songstress, like the gifted St. Cecilia, seemed enthroned far beyond his reach, surrounded by an atmosphere of poesy and music ; too exalted in her celestial sphere to smile upon a rude son of the ocean. But the moon shines as brightly on the rough sea as on the blooming earth, and this fair saint had a woman's tender, loving heart. Not many months passed away when another gentle bride was welcomed in Fourth street, and, as Edward Wallace's wife, Isabel became the comfort of Miriam Menlove's declin ing years. Jocelin and his little * Beam" were comfortably establish ed at The Oaks, and the light of Marion's happy temper reflected its sunshine into those darkened hearts, where the memory of Arthur was still so tearfully enshrined. ******** No marriage bells pealed out merrily upon the bridal morn of Alice Vere, but the sweet note of the red bird sounded pleasantly through the silent woods, and the golden jessamine hung its fragrant garlands upon the road-side, as the wedding party left the little church, where the vows of Walter and Alice had been solemnly consecrated. 9 194 ECHOES OF A BELLE; Among the guests who had been present at the ceremony, was one whom Alice would fain have greeted kindly, but she disappeared mysteriously, and had evidently wished to avoid notice, as she remained apart, during the service, with her veil closely drawn. Had it been lifted, reader, you could scarcely have recog nised, in that altered, faded countenance, the once brilliant Lucy Wilson. The world no longer offered any attractions to her, for the serious imputations cast upon her character, afforded by past levity of conduct, and the association of her name with Howard's sad fate, had made an unpleasant impression even upon those most disposed to charitable feeling. In her splendid home sat an imbecile husband, and woman's tender, yearning sympathies lay smouldering, like the fire upon her voiceless hearthstone, whilst for that proud heart there was only left the ashes of bitter disappointment and regret. In the simple cottage of which Alice was so long the happy inmate, many peaceful years were passed. Time seemed only to visit her with its brightest benediction ; whilst children clustered around the cheerful fireside, and the sound of glad contentment rose within. When political life gave a wider scope to AValter's talents, he rose rapidly in public estimation, and in the Senate of the United States his voice was often raised in eloquent debate, while he preserved the unblemished honor OR, A VOICE FROM THE PAST. 195 and integrity of mind which won for him even higher con sideration. But the brightest jewel in fortune's diadem, was the affec* tion of his inestimable wife, the gentle, truthful Alice Vere. 196 ECHOES OF A BELLE. IN the garden of my life fair flowers have faded, opening buds and expanded blossoms alike have perished, from all but memory, whence I have gathered these few fragments, around which a living fragrance seemed to float as I wove the humble chaplet. Reverently I have placed it upon the tomb of one whose name will flourish long after my frail garland is withered ; for such transient flowers I may not ask a brighter destiny ; and, reader, if there are feelings, less perishable, in an old man's experience, that have been veiled in silence, they are slumbering Echoes which he dare not wake. THE END THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE STAMPED BELOW RENEWED BOOKS ARE SUBJECT TO IMMEDIATE RECALL LIBRARY, UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, DAVIS Book Slip-50m-9,'70(N9877s8) 458 A-31/5,6 N9 789239 Shadow, B. Echoes of a belle PS2804 S38 E3 LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA DAVIS