 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A TWILIGHT MEMORY.

"" or mass E. nsxronn.

 

 

The twill ht dro s her curtains
About e sha owy world;
And the banners of the sunset
Above the West are furled.
Come sit beside me, dear one,
And sing some ballad old——
Some plaintive little ballad,
About the streets of gold.

To-night, while sunset glories
Hung ﬂaming o‘er the lull,
I listened to the robins
And lonesome whi
And I lived an evening over,
When the robins sung the same, _ _
And the light of heaven seemed shining,
Through the sunset gates of ﬂame.

Then I saw the shadows gather
In the corners of the room,

But they could not hide one shadow?
That was full of awful gloom.

For a dear one‘s bark was drifting
Out upon the unknown sea—

In the falling twilight shadows,

‘ Drifting out from earth and me. \

Oh! the sad- voiced, mournfnl robinsl
Were they thinkm of my pain

That their song sho d be so mouthful?
I can hear them sing again!

And I hear the plaintive calling
Of the whippowil once more,

As my dear ones bark goes drifting
Toward the far-off heaven shore!

It It * It i *

Sing some ballad in the twifiaht,
Touching weary eyes with alm;
Sin of the celestial city,
re. pod forever more with calm.
Sing 0 rest—and dear ones waiting,
Over there for you and me, _ _
When our bark goes drifting, dnftmg,
Out into eternity.

 

Great Adventurers.

May——

COLUMBUS,

Discoverer of the New World.

 

BY nu. LOUIS mom.

TEE adventures and experiences of the early
discoverers of America are so romantic as to
read like romance. After Columbus had pro-
clairhod his great success in ﬂndingaNew
World thickly peopled with a race of red men,
whose land was of glorious. beauty, and rich in
precious stones and metals, it excited to fever-
hcat the spirit of adventure, exploration and
conquest among the several powers of Western
Europe. Each nation was eager to possess a
portion of the new domain; and, ere four years
had passed, various ﬂeets were aﬂoat on voy—
ages of discovery. Their successes and failures
ﬁlled Europe with excitement. The 
tion found by the Spaniards in Mexico and
Peru; the bloody conquest of those countries
by Cortes and Pizarro; the enormous wealth
obtained by them and their followers-so
served to intensify the thirst for adventure, and‘
the lust for gold among English, French, Por-
tuguese, Venetians and Dutch, that the ~ 16th
century witnessed marvelous deeds of men and
stupendous schemes of nations for aggrandire

 

_ ment and power.

Christopher Columbus—or Christopher Colon
as he called himself when he went to Spain«
was born at Cogolcto, in Genoa, A. I). 1486.*
His father being a well—to-do tradesmen, Chris-
topher received an excellent education for those
days—~then a rare exception even among “ the

.” His taste run so decidedly to navi-
gation that he left the University of Pavia to
become a practical sailor; and this love
for the sea and for adventure took such posses—
sion of him that when he was three-and-
twenty years of age it was his “ruling pas-
sion.” He voyaged to all the ports of the
Mediterranean. Then he ran down the only
half-known African coast, and out to the new—
ly—discovered islands of the ocean. He stretch-
ed away to the Northern Ocean, to Iceland and
beyond, resolved to discover new lands. His
learning and obmrvation convinced him of the
existence of other continents, and his eager
mind gathered strength of purpose with each
new voyage. To further his studies and
schemes he tarried in Portugal, on whosé‘shores
he was cast by the destruction of his vessel by
a Venetian galley. With the aid of an oar he
swam two leagues to the land and made his
way to the court of Alfonso V., at Lisbon.

The Portuguese then were famed for their
comhmrcial enterprise and sea. adventures.
They welcomed men of all nations who had
nautical knowledge or were possessed of the
spirit of adventure. Under the Portuguese
ﬂag he made voyages to all the then newly-
found lands. Marrying the daughter of Fe

old sailor’s logs, charts and reports he obtained
much strange and exciting information. His
brother-in-law, then engaged in the public ser~
vice, notiﬁed him that western winds had driv~
en ashore at Porto Saute wood which showed
signs of man’s rude handicraft, and canes of
immense size. The same reports came from
the Azores, Madeira and Cape V rde Islands;
then, on the Azores, two dead bodies of men,
differing wholly from the European or African
races, ﬂoated ashore.

All served to conﬁrm Columbus’ long-grow-
ing convictions of a Western land—~or possibly
of India, which might reach so far to the cast
that its eastern limits would be found by soil-
ing west. The spherecity of our world was
not then admitted, but Columbus, having
studied deeply the problems of Astronomy, and
observed the phonemena of the earth’s shadow
in Inner eclipses, became thoroughly convinced
of the fact that the earth was a globe, and that,
by sailing west, he Would strike the eastern
limit of the Asiatic continent, or discover new
lands lying between. ‘ ‘

So to King John II., the King of Pdrtugal,
he broached-his ideas and designs, soliciting his
aid in ﬁtting out an expedition to solve the
problem. John did not accedetothe Genoese’s
suggestion, but was sofavorably impressed that
he gave private orders for a ship, bound to the
Cape do Verde Islands, to continue on to the
west, until land Was found.

This effort to anticipate him impelled Colum-
bus to go in person to the rival court, of Spain,
(Castile,) where Ferdinand and Isabella reign—
ed. At the same time he sent hisbrother Bar—
tholomew to England, to interest King Henry
VII. in the scheme.

Then followed, for the Genoese, seven years
of severest labor, trial and mortiﬁcation in the
endeavor to obtsn'n the conﬁdence of those high
in authority, and the support of the crown.
Hisideas were pronounced visionary ,- his his
lief in the spherical form of the world was de-
clarcd to be both absurd and irreverent. A
few good and wise men sustained him and 1a—
bored in his interest with the court, but, after
seven years of waiting, be abandoned hope and
sadly departed for the court of Louis of
France.

This so aroused his friends that Isabella dis-
patched messengers for his recall. He obtain—
ed the coveted audience and so interested the

*We adopt Lamartine’s date. Gooderich as s
1443; Blackie’s Encyclopaedm, 1485, etc, etc. y

 

rcstrello, a celebrated sea captain, from this

queen that she volunteered her jewels to ob-
tain the money necessary for the adventure.
He was commissioned admiral, and Viceroy of
all lands he should discover and annex to the
Spanish crown, and with a ﬂeet of three small
vessels—two of them more caravels—he sail—
ed from Palos, Spain, Aug. 3d, 1492.

The Canary Islands, however, were the real
point of departure. From thence, Sept. 6th,
the great navigator entered upon Unknown
seas, greatly to the terror of many of his
crews. Only Columbus’ conﬁdent assertions
reassured them. Even his captains were soon
ﬁlled with fear at the phenomenon of the great
variations of the magnetic needle, and were re.
conciled to the unheard—of deﬂection of the mag-
net by Columbus’ explanation that it was
caused w the, diurnal suction of the north (p0—
lar) star around the north pole! ._

In a. few days the little ships were in the
midst of the “ Saragossa sea. ”——a ﬂoating mam
of marine plants, over which hovered many
unknown aquatic birds. Thesc signs of land
increased as the ﬂeet sailed west, but no land
appearing, the crews became excited, and mu-
tinous for a. return. The admiral, by every
power of persuasion, threat and command, was
barely able to keep the ships on their course.
Signs of land multiplied rapidly. Flocks of
small land-birds were not infrequent. Then
appeared ﬂoating debris of land origin, and on
the morning of October 11th indications of land
became so strong that caution was enjoined on
the pilots:

That night Columbus’ watchful eyes detected
a moving light, and at 2 A. 31., Oct. 12th, the
land was seen, two leagues away. A gun was
ﬁred to announce the discovery. The three
vessels came together, and with the dawn there
lay before their eager eyes a low but very
beautiful island, thick clad in verdure, with
limpid rivsllets discernible on its surface.
Great rejbicing followed. The Te Deum Lau—
damus psalm was sung by all—Columbus lead-
ing. Before it was ﬁnished the island shores
were alive with men, women and children,
amazed spectators of the wonderful scene.

Columbus and his captains, with, an armed
guard, landed. As they touched the shore all
fell down, and, kissing the soil, uttered fervent
thanks to God. The royal standard was plant~
ed and the word Salvador pronounced as the
name of the land—a ﬁtting recognition of the
divine Savior. The company present hailed
Columbus as Viceroy of the new domain, and
on the spot took the oath of allegiance.

The islanders, at ﬁrst frightened away by
the approach of the boats, now began to re-
turn. Finding no harm done them, they came
forward, and by signs of abject humility gave
token of their submission. They regarded the
new-comers as something immortal, to be obey—
ed and worshiped.

After a two days’ tarry, the vessels proceed-
ed, with a. few natives on board, in qxest of
other lands, and discovered, in rapid succes-
sion, the islands south of San Salvador. Octo-
ber 27th, just at sunset, Cuba was sighted, and
the next morning, it was formally in
the name of the crown of Spain, and christened
Juana, after Prince Don Juan. Here evi-
dences of a higher civilization were found in
the shape of huts having ﬁreplaces in them;
bone ﬁsh—ho-ks, various utensils, weapons, cot-
ton cloth, etc. 'Explorations followed, and an
embassy was sent into the interior of the island.
The word uttered by the natives, Cubanacan,
so inpressed Columbus that be interpreted it
Great Khan and concluded he had indeed dis-
covered “farther Ind. ” ’To the Khan be there-
fore wrote by his embassy, which, however, re-
turned after a twelve miles’ tramp to report no
cities found, nor any evidence (f the Great

Columbus now spent many weeks in his ex—
plorations. St. Domingo was ‘ nearly circum-
navigated and other adjacent islands entered
on his charts. He believed that he really had
struck Indiahand he expected ere long to re-
discover MarCo Polo’s great island of Oz'pango
(Japan), where were untold treasures of gold
and precious stones.
with their splendid canoes and caciques (chiefs)
in command, encouraged this illusion while
the remarkable products of the land—to co.
potatoes, yams, cassova, etc, all strange to
him, added no little to his delight. On Cuba,
St. Domingo, etc, the natives wove and wore
a coarse cotton cloth, dyed with various colors,
which betokened, as, Columbus thought, a con-
tact with India civilization. ,

we must remember that the great navigator
was literally groping his way. The wish was
to ﬁnd indie, for then he could prove his theory
of the sphericity of the world, and thus solve
numberless important problems. So he tried
hard to associate What he saw with what Mar—
co Polo had published regarding “Cathay;”
but his new world proved, after much explora-

great islands, with vast seas beyond.

Having lost his own vessel, the largest of his
ﬂeet, by running on a roof off of Hayti, the
admiral determined upon a return to Spain in
the small caravel or barquc—the second ves-,
so] having long before run away from the ﬂeet
to explore on its own account. The wrecked
ship was broken to pieces and a strong fort
erected with its timbers; then, leaving in it a
volunteer garrison of 39 men, he set sail for
Spain, Jan. 4th, 1493. The second day out he
met his second vessel returning from its inde—
pendent cruise, and accepting the captain’s ex—
cuses for his treacherous conduct, he continued
on his way—reaching Palos, after great peril,
March 15th.

His reception was noisy with cannon and the
shouts of the people, and his trip to the court
at Barcelona. one continued triumph. He bore
with him several of the natives and many of
the products of the New World—the West In-
dus, as he called it. A, chair next to the throne
was given him, and then, in the presence of the
court, be related to the queen and king (Isabel-
la and Ferdinand) the story of his adventures
and discoveﬁcHt the same time delivering a
considerable amount of gold which he had ob-
tained by barter with the natives. For all of
which he was made a Grandee and every“ mark
of royal favor lavished upon him.

A second voyage followed, under highly fa-
vorable auspices, with three ﬂue ships and four—
teen caravels, bearing ﬁfteen hundred men.
Leaving Cadiz September 25th, 1493, he reach-
ed Hispaniola (Hayti) November 2d, to ﬁnd his
fort abandoned and his colony dispersed. He
rebuilt the fort, and made a fortiﬁed town,
which he named Isabella, appointing his bro-
ther Diego governor. This done he proceeded
with his explorations and added a number of
islands to his charts. Returning to Isabella,
after an absence of ﬁve months, he found there,
to his great delight, his long-lost brother Bar-
tholomew, whom the queen had dispatched with
additional supplies for the colony. Columbus
was angered and mortiﬁed, however, to ﬁnd
great discord and discontent among the colon-
ists, who, instead of securing gold in plenty,
as every one of the adventurers had expected,
had encountered only work and the hardships
incident to settlement life. Complaints against
the admiral, and denunciations of the country,

 

already had been dispatched to Spain. To si-

The harmless Indians, ”

tion and inquiry among the natives, to be but,

lence calumny he returned to Spain with con-
siderable treasure and thirty natives—leaving ‘
Bartholomew in command. His presence in
Spain disconcerted but did not silence his ca~
lumniators, and it was not until May 30th,
1498, that he started on his third voyage, with
six vessels. Three were sent direct to Hispa—
niola, while, with the others, he took a. more
smrtherlycourse. He struck the continent at
Trinidad and coasted along to the north until
convinced that he  indeed found a. New
World. Then he returned to Hispaniola, where
he proposed to found a great viceroyalty of
which Spain should be proud.

But his enemies were busy enough at court.
Isabella, frightened at the report of his pur—
pose to found an independency, dispatched Bo-
badilla to Hispaniola, with the powers of vice-
roy. The great admiral and his two brothers,
on Bobadilla’s arrival, were put in iréns and
sent to Spain with all manner of charges against
them by personal enemies. His appearance in
irons (Nov. , 1 500) aroused public sympathy. He
was released at once and received at court
with distinguished honor, by Isabella’s com—
mands.

But, intrigue was at work to rob him of his
viceroyalty and his honors, and he and his
friends labored in vain for his restoration.
Failing in this, he started, March 9, 1502, on a
new voyage of discovery, to try to make his
way through to the East Indigs. Stopping at
St. Domingo (Hispaniola) he was denied per-
mimion to enter port! He continued on to Da—
rien, but failed toﬁnd the expected “ opening.”
Two of his vessels were lost in this exploration,
and, proceeding east, on his return, the two re—
maining vessels were wrecked off Jamaica, and
the great navigator barely escaped with his
life.

Alone on the island, with no means of es-
cape, his condition was r- forlorn enough.
Through the kindness of the natives two canoes
were obtained, in which several of the boldest
of his men embarked, to try and reabh Hispa—
niola, and from thence bring him succor. The
natives became hostile, owing to the mmcon—
duct of the Spaniards, and starvation threaten—
ed the hapless castaways. Columbus only saved
his command by strategy. Knowing that an

‘ of the moon was at hand, he threatened
the natives with the vengeance of his God if
they did not bring in bountiful supplies of pro-
visions, and said, in proof of his threat, that at
a certain hour the moon would lose its light.
The obscuration came, greatly to their conster-
nation, and food poured it? plentifully from
that hour.

A whole year passedbefore relief came. The
two canoes, strange to say, reachedSt. Domin—
go in safety, but the governor refused to act,
and the men and their friends equipped a small
vessel for the admiral’s relief. In that little
barque he left Jamaica. (June 28th, 1504,) and
in the same craft made his way back to Spain,
shattered in health, robbed of his Viceroyalty
and his vast estates in the New World, and
died, of a broken spirit, at Valadolid, May
20th, 1506.

Great honors were shown the remains of the
man who haddone so much for Spain and been
so deeply wronged by the selﬁsh Ferdinand.
Buried temporarily in Seville, his body, by his
own expressed will, was taken to St. Domingo,
to rest in the world his genius had evoked from
the darkness. There it rested until transferred
to Havana, Cuba in January, 1796, and With
imposing pomp was buried at the right side of
the great altar of the cathedral. There it yet
reposes. ~

Brave Barbara:

FIRST LOVE on NO LovE.
A STORY OF A WAYWARD HEART.

BY CORINNE CUSHMAN,
AUTHOR or “BLACK urns AND BLUE,” ETC.

 

 

 

CHAPTER VII.
THE BUTTERFLY IN THE WEB.

LITTLE Lady Alice had a pleasant visit at
Dunleath Castle. No mother could be kinder
to her than was the proud countess. She was
only a child—little Alice—a dainty, happy
hearted, blight-haired child of sixteen summers,
with all the deeper feelings of womanhood still
asleep in her folded nature. She liked simple
amusements, confectionery, petting and new
dresses, and she had been kept on scant allow-
ance of any of these charming things the last
few years. Her father was too deeply absorb;
ed in himself and his embarrassments to pet
his only remaining child; and money was too
precious to him to be wasted on sweets for her;
While, as for clothing, a sufﬁciency of the cheap—
est dresses was all the girl ever had.

“ But you areold enough to dress very dif—
ferently now, dear; and your father has given
me carte blanche to put your wardrobe in or-
der. Perhaps you will be in society this com-
ing winter, and then you will need a great
many things.”

The countess had said this to her, and fol—
10wed it up by sending to London very fre—
quently for boxes of pretty articles of the toi-
let; and little Alice, delighted, and wondering
at her papa’s liberality, after his being so close
with her, accepted everything as coming from
him, and took unbounded pleasure in her new
treasures. Laces and gloves, sacks, ribbons,
hats, a blue silk dress, a white grenadine, any
number of simple muslins and organdies, fans,
bouquet-holders, opera-glasses, bijouterie—are
not these things remarkably conducive to the
happiness of a. very young lady? Lady Alice
took the deeper delight in hers because she had
not hitherto been/surfeited.

After all, it was the delight of a child in
beautiful things. She had no coquettish ideas
of conquest or display. It was very quiet at
Dunleath. There were none to coquet with had
she been so disposed; and she did not miss ad-
mirers, or yearn after them. She thought the
place almost too grand for her humble little
self—wondered at the deferential. air of the
waiting-maid the countess had appointed her
personal atmndanthenjoyed the lovely en—
vironments of Dunleath, its lawns, forests,
ﬂower-gardens, fountains, lakes. And she
never 'ceased to be surprised at the great kind—
ness of the lady of Dunleath. Her heart warm—
ed with gratitude and admiration—but not
with love. She could never quite love the
stately countess who did so much for her—nev-
er pour out her heart to her as she used to her
own mamma. Yet she thought her the hand—
somest lady, and the best, and the most queen—

ly she had ever seen.

She never dreamed——poor child, how could
shelathat all this goodness, at which her own
generous little heart swelled with gratitude,
was but the bait with which the simple ﬁsh is
caught on the cruel book.

The haughty Countess of Dunleath, knowing
that no girl who knew of her son’s afﬂiction
would marry him, was deliberately working to
entangle this innocent young creature in an al-

 

liance with him.

r She had made her choice after due delibera-
tion. Of course, some young lady might have
married the heir, for his title; but such a wo—
man would be selﬁsh, and probably as coarse-
graincd as she was unprincipled.

Now, the little Alice, although poor “ as a.
church-mouse,” was nobly born and bred, of
the daintiest reﬁnement, beautiful, young, lov-
ing, amiable—just the girl to make her poor
son happy the few years he had to live.

As to the happiness of the poor girl herself!
—ah! the lady countess did not make so nice a
calculation on that ! She said to herself, how—
ever—for she was not so utterly selﬁsh as she
was wrapped up in her son—that the child
would have much to gain, fortune, comfort and
such worldly gifts; and that she would, if not
happy.with Herbert, in all probability be left
a widow While yet so young as to make a. sec-
ond choice.

The physicians had assured her that Herbert
would not live more than ﬁve or six years at
the longest. At the end of six years Lady Al-
ice would be only a. little over twenty-two.

And so the countess planned and plotted,
nor called herself any hard names for doing so.

She quietly put aside all the unpleasant fan—
cies of the effect years spent with a husband so
frightfully afﬂicted might have on the nerves
and heart of a sensitive young thing like Lady
Alice. All she considered was to get a wife
who could charm and entertain her son; and
who, by giving him an heir, would thus disap-
point the cousin who anticipated the earlship.

If it was heartless of her to thus seek to en-
trap Lady Alice, Whatcan be said of the child’s
own father, who entered fully into the plan,
and was more than willing to sell his daughter
to a: husband like the earl?

And what did little Alice, all this time, think
of the earl? Her heart was still an unfolded
bud. She learned to have a great affection for
him as a friend and companion.

Love, with his wondrous magic wand, had
not yet touched the hidden ﬂower of her soul,
causing it to burst into sudden, exquisite blow.
No. All the woman’s part of her nature still
slumbered, as the Sleeping Beauty slumbered
in the enchanted palace, nor was the young
earl the Fairy Prince who ought to kiss her eye-
lids into opening.

The earl’s mysterious malady, whatever it
might be, excited her compassion, making her
doubly kind to him and anxious to please him.
She thought him very handsome—but not very
bright—and sometimes his ﬁts of temper dis-
concerted, even shocked her. She liked his so-
ciety because young people do like each other’s
society, and he was the only person about the
castle anywhere near her own age. She for-
gave his burs’rs of violence, because he was of-
ten ill, and wasa great sufferer from some ner-
vous disease. She sometime wondered at his
forgetting things which had happened only the
day before. In fact, there were many things
about him which puzzled her; which, if she had
been older and Wiser, she would have under-
stood better. , And these things effectually pre-
vented her from falling madly in love with
Herbert, as his mother had hoped and expect-
ed her to do. _

She had made some inquiries, at ﬁrst, of the
maid who waited on her, as to the peculiar
form of the ear-1’s malady; but the girl had re—
ceived her instructions, and gave a. ve,ry indeﬁ-
nite answer. ‘

She then asked her father, who also turned
the question off with something about its “ be-
ing merely a nervous aﬁection,” which the
young gentleman would gradually outgrow.

Outgrow! yes, by outgrowing life itself—and
the father, knong all the terrible facts, de-
liberately deceived his child.

High-minded and high-bred, Lady Alice ask-
ed‘no more questions.

More than once she observed something pe—
culiarin the haste with which the countess tum—
ed her out of Herbert’s presence. She was too
quick-witted not to perceive that there was
something kept from her. But she was also
too ignorant of such things to form any idea of
what the nature of the trouble was. '

And so the six weeks of her visit ran on to-
ward the close. She began to dread the thoughts
of returning to London and living in some cheer—
less hotel with her father, who scarcely paid
any more attention to her than to the canary
bird in its cage by the Window; and who seem-
ed to consider that he did his whole duty by
her when be secured as her companion~half
waiting-de and half duenna—a meagerly-
paid, sour, unbending elderly person, as re-
spectable as she was un—companionable to the
poor little creature who would fain be gay and
happy if she could.

Lady Alice began to dread her‘return to this
sort of life, and to cherish every hour of her
remaining days at Dunleath; every friendly
chat with Herbert, every game of parlor-cro-
quet, or backgammon, of conversation-cards,
or cribbago played with him in his room.

Herbert made her cry, two or three times,
by himself shedding tears as he told her how
he should miss her. She cried out of sympathy;
and yet she felt the loss of something manly in
his half-Whining tone and childish complaints.

One lovely day, in the sixth week of her
visit, e sat in the rose—garden, a book in her
hand, but not reading. She was looking with
loving eyes at the dear roses, the glittering
fountain, the green, soft turf beyond, the great
pile of gray buildings rising out of the grass
and ﬂowers, with ivy clambering to its turrets,
and its tower gilded by the declining sun—
Dunleath Castlel—at the glimmering glass of
long conservatories and graperies, at the apri-
cots on the wall; the vistas of beautiful woods
and waters beyond. .

“ Oh, oh!” thought Lady Alice, her velvet
cheek dropping into hpr lily hand, “ if I had
a. home like this, it would be living in Para-
dise Without waiting to go to heaven! How
strange it seems that papa, who is of such good
birth, should be so poor! I would like to live
here always.

“Yes, I wish this were my home,” she re-
peated aloud, unconscious of any listener.

At this moment the countess, gliding among
the rosctrces, reached the bench where her
young guest sat, and, placing herself beside her,
took in both of hers one of the little hands.

“It is a. beautiful place,” she said, earnestly,
looking about, and then down into the frank,
shy brown eyes of the young creature whose
hand she held. “Alice, my dear child, you
have but to consent to it, and this shall be your
home—your very own home, always.”

“ Consent to it, my lady?” murmured Alice,

returning her smiling look with one of sur—

prise.

“ Yes, dear, consent to something which I

trust you will not ﬁnd it so hard to do.”

“ To part from papa, perhaps?” questioned
the child, smiling in return, yet shrinking a. lit-
tle, for she was more faithful to her selﬁsh pa-
rent than he was to her. “ You are very, very
kind, my lady—yet it would hardly be right to
desert poor papa. He has no one tolove him
but his little daughter.” V

“Lord Ross is quite as anxious as we are,

dear Alice, that you will like the proposition I

have to make to you.

 

what it is?”

You do not at all infer ‘

“ Not at all, my lady,” answered Alice, ﬂush—
ing prettin under the bright eyes which al—
ways seemed to pierce through her, albeit they
were always so kind.

Nor did she infer what was coming. Vague
thoughts that the Countess of Dunleath, having
no daughter, might olfer to adopt her, ﬂitted
across her mental vision.

“How could I expect that you would, you
are such a child, little Alice! Yet you are a
woman, too, my dear; and you have your fu-
ture tothink of. Ith ask of you to think
very seriously of it now. ,Herbert has asked
me to speak to you ”——Alice started, and the
sweet face which had grown so rosy grew pale
———“for him, my dear. He has grown very
fond of you. He cannot endure the prospect
of your going away from us.

“In short, Lady Alice Ross, my son loves
you. and asks you to become his Wife.”

The ﬁrm clasp of the elder lady closed tightr
er on the poor little yielding hand of the
younger, holding it fast.

“ Loves me ! The earl’s wife! Why, how.
absurd!” stammered the girl, trying to draw
her hand away.

“ Not absurd, dear Alice—only very natural.
How could he help falling in love with you, in
all these weeks when your society has been his
only pleasure? He has had a fair opportunity
to learn to prize you—and so we all have. I
have never seen any one I should like so thor—
oughly for a daughter.”

“ Oh, madame, you are too good to me,” mur—
mured Alice, trembling.

“Why are you so agitated? Do you not love
Herbert, as he does you? You have seemed to
care for him.” ‘

“Ab, and so I do, dear countess. Herbert
is like a brother to me. I am very, very fond
of him—and so sorry for him, too, shut up in
his room so much. But I never thought of
being his—~0f marriage. Why! I am so very
young, my ladyl—not seventeen!”

“ I know it, my child. But I am a believer
in early marriages. I have observed that they
are generally the happiest. Before the charac-
ter of either has fully hardened—while it is
still possible for each to yield and assimilate—
is the timemfor young people to unite. You
may consider it an act of self-denial to marry
one so much of an invalid—” 

“Oh, my lady, it is not that. I should no-
ver care for that!"

“ Then—do not you ldve my boy—my beau-
tiful Herbert? I have hoped that you would,
before this.”

—of that kind, my lady. I have never thought
of marriage, except as something so far oﬂ—so
very distant—I—really-”

The countess laughed.

“Come now, my dear daughter, I shall tell
Herbert that you consent to an engagement,
shall I not? Of course you do not understand
your own heart, little one. Let me read it for
you. I am Wiser than you, for I have lived
through all. You own that you are fond of
Herbert. That is quite enough to begin on.
Try to love him a. little more every day.
Marry him, before long; and as his Wife you
will ﬁnd love come to you unsought.”

“Papa. could never spare me,” cried Alice,
more and more alarmed.

“ You mistake. He has admitted to me that
it would be the greatest pow‘ble comfort to
him to know that you were provided for.
Look about you, my child! You Will be mis—
tress of all this that you see—of .a palace in
London—of other castles and domains as fair
as these. You are poor, and Lord Ross is in
debt and trouble. It would lighten his cares
immensely, to leave you here, the lady of Dun-
loath.”

“Has papa really said that he wanted me to
——-to marry Herbert?”

“His heart is set on it, Alice. And so is
mine—to say nothing of my boy’s. Surely,
you are not going to disappoint us all?”

“ I must have time to think, if you please,”
said the poor child, confused, startled, not un—
ﬂattered, perhaps, by the proud lady’s wooing,
yet ﬁnding herself, curiously, far more unhap-
py than happy at the prospect.

“Certainly; take plenty of time in making
up your mind; talk with your father; and let
Herbert say what he can to persuade you.
Will you go in and see Herbert now, dear?”

“ Oh, not to-day, please! Wait until to—mor—
row. I may go to my own room now, may I
not, dear countess?”

“ Yes, child. The dressing-bell will ring be
fore long. Try and come down to dinner.
Your father Will miss you, else; and I know
that he will desire to talk with you this even-
in ')7

As the ladies rose to go toward the house,
some one approached through an alley of fast-
fadjng roses—the last of the superb collection
which .Would bloom out—of—doors that year—-
paused at a little distance, and lifted his hat to
the countess. ‘ 

“ Delorme Dunleath!” exclaimed the mistress
of the castle, in far greater astonishment, than
pleasure.

Then, controlling her surprise and her vexa—
tion under the cover of a cold courtesy, she ad~
vanced and gave him her hand.

For three minutes little Alice stood there un-
noticed—three minutes, crowded with destiny!
—‘and in that brief space the bud burst into
bloom—became a. rose—the child expanded in-
to the woman—and she knew that she did not
——never could—love Herbert, though he were
a thousand times an earl.

How bad this knowledge come to her?

It was simply by looking at this new-comer
that the change came. She had seen a man
that she could love, and it taught her that she
could not love the other!

Ah! how like a revelation do these things
come—blinding with the Swift ﬂash of light,
but none the less sure and lasting because the
consciousness comes so suddenly.

Before the stately countess could turn to pre—
sent her, little Alice had ﬂed to the seclusion of
her room as the fawn ﬂies to the deepest covert
of the wood.

 

CHAPTER VIII.
LIGHTNING our or A CLEAR sxv.

TWO or three Weeks passed swiftly away at
Bellevue. Barbara allowed the young friends
who were visiting her to go home, when the
various terms of their invitations had expired,
without any urging of them to remain. She
was so happy in Delorme’s society that she
craved no other. Her whole heart was now
given to this man. All her willful, imperious
ways were softened before him.

if, at times, she doubted him, the doubt only
increased the abandon of her gift to her lover
of her young hopes and dreams. She said
many times to herself:

“ If I should ﬁnd out anything wrong about
him now, it would be 10;; late. It would kill
me to lose him! And why do I fear? Is not,
papa old and wise enough to select a hquand
for me? Papa. loves Dclisle like a son. Papa,
knows all.”

Yet sometimes she was devoured by a hun—
gry curiosity to know those events in her

 

 

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“I don’t think I know anything about love.

     

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