66 fair enchantress cannot be influenced | opportunity of introducing the latter by calculating considerations." lady, as well as be the means of throwUpon my word! you seem deter- ing light upon this history at the time mined, notwithstanding all I can say to of, and previous to, its commencement. the contrary, to have me in love," said Mrs. Lewison had been slightly indisCarrol. "I will not deny that I admire posed during the evening, and when Miss Lewison as much as it is possible Adela entered her apartment previous for me to admire any young lady on a to retiring, she found her already en first acquaintance, but you must re-dishabille. member that I have seen her but once, and it is not likely that I should fall very deeply in love at first sight." They had now arrived at Wharton's house, and Carroll stopped for a moment to say good evening. "I should insist on your coming in," said Wharton, "if I were not aware how restless you must feel; nothing can satisfy you now, but a walk for an hour or two in the pale moon's rays; and before you retire you will relieve your heated imagination by composing an ode to the fair Adela." "I see that you are incorrigible this evening," said Carrol, shaking his offered hand, "so I will recommend you to retire immediately, in hopes of a speedy reformation." 66 Good-night, Frank," said Wharton, laughing, "I need not wish you pleasant dreams, for you carry about you an antidote to sleep." "Well, Adela, my dear," said she, arousing herself by a yawn from the effects of a nap she had just been indulging in, "who have you had down stairs to-night?" Adela stated who had been there, and she spoke rather warmly of Wharton's friend, when she mentioned his name. "Mr. Carrol!" said her mother, repeating his name, "who is he, my dear? I never heard of him before." "I believe I do remember something about it now," said her mother, after reflecting for a moment; "he is a son of that Mr. Carrol who used to live in such style in Chestnut street some years ago, but who failed, and when he died was found out to be poor. Mr. Whar Having violated confidence so far as ton is a very fine young man, and he's to relate the conversation that transpired very rich," said Mrs. Lewison, emphabetween Carrol and Wharton after they cising the last word, "but I wish he left Lewison's house, we can see no good wouldn't introduce his poor friends to reason to prevent our going still further, us; I don't think it's right, where there and relating what was said by Adela is a young girl like you, that young Lewison and her mother on the same men should visit who don't move in the evening, when the guests had all de- same circle, and haven't the means to parted. And we are the more inclined do as we do." to do this, because it will give us an "I am surprised, Ma, to hear you apply such remarks to Mr. Carrol," | know," said she, smiling as she obsaid Adela. "I do not know what his served, by her mother's countenance, 66 that she considered these doctrines decidedly heterodox, "a young lady is not expected to marry all her visitors." quaintances should attempt to pay a young lady attention, when they ought to keep themselves at a distance, why, then they become very unpleasant acquaintances, my dear, and the sooner they are dropped the better. Besides, you know how people will talk! Now, I am sure it would be the death of me, if it was said that my daughter was going to be married to any man but a circumstances are, but I am very well satisfied that if, as you say, he does not move in the same circle that we do, is only from want of inclination on his part; for his agreeable person, and "I am very glad to hear you say gentlemanly and polished manners, that, my dear," said Mrs. Lewison, would procure him a welcome admis-" for I really began to think, from the sion into any society." way you were talking, that you had Why, my dear, the young man fallen in love with this young Carrol. was well enough brought up, and was It is all well enough to have pleasant fashionable enough while his father acquaintances; but if pleasant ac lived; but when the old man died, instead of being rich, as everybody supposed him, it was found out that he died poor, absolutely poor! All the fashionable world discovered that they had been deceived, and they turned their backs on the young man. I heard that he was studying physic or law, or some other business, I suppose his coming here can't be helped now," said Mrs. Lewison, vainly attempting to look gentleman, a rich man, and a man of resigned, "but I hope he won't come often, for I don't think it right that a young lady of fashion should have poor people among her gentlemen visitors." "Dear me, how can you speak so;" "He is sufficiently agreeable as an (Adela did not like to use the word mer-acquaintance," replied Adela, in a cenary, though it arose to her tongue;) careless tone. "particularly in reference to Mr. Carrol? He does not possess wealth, but he has what is better, intelligence, and a power to render himself agreeable. Riches cannot make a man a pleasant companion, if he is really not so; we cannot converse with his dollars or his bank notes. A man who is disagreeable is not rendered less so because he may be rich; and, on the other hand, a want of wealth can form no objection to an agreeable acquaintance; for you he is paying to you, they wouldn't fashion. But speaking of agreeable men," said Mrs. Lewison; "there's Mr. Fitz Osborne: isn't he an agree able man?" "He has got learning enough in his head to set half a dozen young men crazy," said Mrs. Lewison; "he can talk like a lawyer, or a minister; he's got the largest fortune in town; he's one of the most fashionable men in town, and he is in love with you, Adela; and all you can say about him is, he is sufficiently agreeable as an ac quaintance' Why, if he was paying any other girl in the city the attention know what to do with themselves with | family is one of the oldest in the coundelight." "You make a very great mistake, my dear Ma," said Adela, “in supposing Mr. Fitz Osborne to be in love; I assure you, the idea of such a thing is as unpleasant to me as the reality is undesirable. I look upon him more as one of Pa's visitors than mine. "One of Pa's fiddle-sticks!" exclaimed Mrs. Lewison, getting rather angry at the difficulty she found in convincing her daughter. "I tell you he comes here to see you, and to see nobody else. Don't he come almost every day, or evening? Don't he always get beside you?-and don't you often make me angry by getting up and leaving him?—Don't he look at you in a different way from the way he looks at any body else, and talk to you in a different tone of voice? have been too long in the world, my dear, not to know when a man is in love with a young girl; and I say that Mr. Fitz Osborne is in love with you, and I hope you will do all in I your power to make him your husband; for he is just the man I should like for a son-in-law." "I hope your surmises may be unfounded," said Adela, "for to realize them would be any thing but pleasant to me. However, we will not discuss their probability," said she, perceiving that her mother was about to reply, "for I must bid you good-night now; I hear Pa coming up-stairs." try." spoken, Since the sad day its master chord was bro- But these were horrors-this was wo He faded, and so calm and meek, Unmix'd with such—but sure and slow: PRISONER OF CHILLON. WE must now direct our attention to another scene, remote from the fashionable vicinity of the Lewisons, and entirely apart from the gay world in which they moved We will request our readers to accompany us for a brief space to the upper part of the city; to a narrow street bordering upon the suburbs, in which we will point out a row of small and rough-looking brick houses: they looked, indeed, more like the ghosts, than the substance of respectable brick houses; for the bricks themselves were of that light dingy color, that disem bodied bricks would be most likely to present, and the untrimmed ends of the joists passing through them served to remind one of the rattling joints of a "Good-night, my dear," said Mrs. Lewison; "take care not to fill your head with foolish nonsense; but, remember that Mr. Fitz Osborne is the gigantic anatomy, that had taken a greatest match in the city, and his fancy to revisit the glimpses of the 1 moon. Into one of this row of houses- elder of the two ladies, and took her hand. "He sleeps now, and I trust he is better for it, Doctor," she replied in a melancholy tone. "He has been frantic all day until about an hour since, when I gave him the last prescription as you directed." the one from which the flickering of a dim light is seen through the window of an upper room-we will take the liberty to enter. Making as little noise as possible, we will proceed up stairs to the room from which the light emanates. It is a small room, but the arrangements are neat, and almost cause "That was all right and proper," us to forget the external appearance of said the Doctor, kindly," and the result the house. We have, however, no time is exactly what I desired. I have now to criticise the furniture or its arrange- hopes that when he awakes we shall ment, for there are persons present find a decided improvement in him.” whose claims on our attention and A transient flush of pleasure and a sympathy are not to be deferred to glance of reviving hope replied to the any thing of minor importance. In consolation contained in these few taking a hasty glance around the room words. The Doctor gazed in silence we will observe two females; the elder for a few moments at the scene before one is somewhat advanced in life, while him. Whatever thoughts they were the younger one's age cannot exceed that arose to his mind, they left the twenty, or at most twenty-one years. trace of pity and regret upon his counThey are both dressed in deep mourn- tenance, and they had not disappeared ing, and they are watching beside the when he drew a chair, and seated himbed of an invalid-a youth, scarcely self beside the elder lady. more than a lad-whose debilitated frame and emaciated countenance seems nearer akin to death than life. For some time they remain watching with intense anxiety the inanimate, and apparently lifeless form before them; nor is their breathless attention for a moment disturbed, until a noise of wheels is heard coming up the street, succeeded by the sound of a vehicle stopping at the door; the next moment we hear a footstep on the stairs, and immediately after, a fine, benevolent-looking old gentleman enters the room on tiptoe. He is the physician. "How is our patient this evening?" said he, as he kindly approached the "Let our long acquaintance, my dear madam, excuse the liberty I am about to take," said he, looking about him uneasily, and hesitating as though he was fearful he might hurt her feelings by proceeding. She looked inquiringly at him, and he continued: "I fear that you are very poor, I mean that you are not very comfortably situ. ated; and I want you to oblige me by permitting me to be of some slight service to you." "Thank you; thank you for your kindness, Doctor," she replied, while a crimson flush suffused her face: "be. lieve me I am grateful, but I cannot, indeed I cannot receive such favors. God knows I am not proud! but yet-dear Edgar's recovery? You know but yet, I cannot accept of charity !" 66 Nay, nay, my dear madam," said the Doctor, "call it not by so harsh a name; it is I who receive a favor and not you. Well, well, we will speak no more about it at present," said he, in reply to an appealing look; "but why will you not permit me to address those in your behalf, from whom you have a right to expect assistance?" "Because, Doctor," she replied, "I have received nothing but coldness and reserve from those whom I had every reason to expect sympathy and friendship from. Of all the friends of my husband, you only remain, and you only are acquainted with our residence in Philadelphia. My poor boy, when he was in health, his every endeavor and exertion was made in the hope of mitigating our misfortunes; but now he has been ill for three weeks, and God alone knows whether he will ever recover. Oh, Doctor! I should never be able to survive the death of my son! and poor Kate! too, what would become of her?" 66 what a mother's anxiety must be; but do not flatter me, that I may be doubly disappointed; tell me sincerely what is his real condition. If we may no longer indulge in hope, we will meet the result more firmly by being prepared for it." "I do not wish you to feel too much encouraged," said the Doctor, “when I tell you that I have every reason to look for a favorable change in him. This is the crisis of his disease, and when he awakes I shall either be able to speak positively of his recovery, or I shall not speak at all. Keep him quiet, and hope for the best; by midnight I expect to be able to communicate good news to you. Good-night. God bless you all! The lady remained at the door for a moment after the Doctor drove off, and then she returned to the room of the invalid. Herbert Middleton, the husband of the lady just introduced, was the son of wealthy parents; he succeeded his father in an extensive mercantile business, which for some years he carried on with considerable profit to himself. He was a gentleman of education and intelligence, and was among the most influential citizens of Philadelphia. In early life, he had married a young lady of respectability and wealth; though the match was one in which the heart alone, and not the pocket, had been consulted; for Elizabeth Morton was amiable, intelligent and Doctor," said the elder of the accomplished, and possessed every doladies, as she followed him, "tell me be-mestic charm, calculated to make a fore you go; is there any hope of our reasonable man happy: and they were "Do not encourage forebodings, but hope for the best, my dear madam," said the Doctor, soothingly, as he rose to depart: we shall all have sorrow enough if we take things as we find them, without anticipating evil. Keep yourselves as composed, and our patient as quiet as possible until midnight, when you may expect to see me again. Good-night!" said he, as he glided out of the room. |