weather might be on the following morning, up. The hall-door of the manor-house was he should take his leave after breakfast. The closed on her arrival, and some minutes day broke, bright, fresh, and dewy; a lovely elapsed before it was opened; on her preMay morning, the ground alone retaining paring to alight, the servant stepped to the the traces of the heavy rain that had fallen. carriage, and in a hesitating manner, told her After breakfast the count's equipage drove that the ladies were not at home. to the door, and all being prepared he took his leave.

"Thank you," he said, "my dear cousin, for the delightful hours you have permitted me to pass with you. I shall often think of them." Her simple Adieu Albert!' went to his heart, for it was the first time she had called him Albert since the fatal parting at Paris.

66

"Not at home!" repeated Rosabelle; "I call by Miss Altamont's own appointment to take her to dinner. Is there no message left?"

"None, my lady."

Rosabelle desired her coachman to proceed, quite at a loss to know what offence she had given. Having arrived at her destination, she told the lady of the house that Miss Altamont must make her own apologies, that she had called for her as had been agreed upon, but had found her from home. None of the party seemed much to regret the circumstance, and Rosabelle spent a very gay and agreeable evening.

"Not particularly," replied Lord Altamont; "more so however than he need to be."

The count threw himself into the corner of his carriage. 'My moral nature must be really improving fast;" thus he soliloquized; "for I positively grieve at not having married my cousin, less for her beauty, less even for the brilliant impression she makes on society, than for the goodness and It was on the following morning that Mr. purity of her nature. Show me another Cavendish breakfasted with Lord Altamont beautiful woman in the world, with whom I in town. The conversation turned on the could have spent all these hours alone and views of the French embassy, and from thence behaved as I have done to Rosabelle, simply naturally on the count's departure. "A-probecause I dared not for my life behave other-pos of that personage," said Mr. Cavendish ; wise. Yet was she all confidence, all frank- "is he a favorite of yours?" ness, and all kindness-what a fool I should be thought at Paris!" Then came a feeling of regret, approaching nearly to remorse for the more than tacit admission he had always made of his passion for Rosabelle, and for his never having negatived the inferences drawn from it, which this very visit was intended to confirm. Conscience whispered, "You have injured her fame!" Revenge thundered out, "You have punished your rival!" and vanity gently assured him, that the belief of his devoted passion, and the slight shade of suspicion it cast over her, rendered her, in the eyes of the world, only the more interesting. He arrived at Sir Charles Welburne's in excellent spirits, replied to Lord Henry's sly allusions by a meaning smile, and made desperate love to my lady's waiting-woman.

As soon as the count had left Moorlands, Rosabelle sat down and wrote her letter to Lord Altamont, giving an exact account of her cousin's visit, her commissions to her father, and every thing else she could think of. She forwarded her letter to the manorhouse, a little surprised at its not having been sent for at the usual hour: it was returned after a considerable delay, with a verbal intimation that it was too late; the letter-messenger had been already despatched to the post-town. Despatched! and without apprising her! she could not account for it, regretting it the more, as it would now be too late if forwarded by herself.

Rosabelle was engaged to dine with a neighboring family, and it had been agreed that she should call for Miss Altamont on her way. She therefore ordered the carriage, and having dressed, proceeded to the manorhouse according to her appointment, anxious besides to have the mistake (for such she presumed it to be) about the letter cleared

VOL. XV.

27

|

"He appears a vain, inconsiderate young man," observed Mr. Cavendish; "and to tell you the truth, Altamont—I hope you will pardon my freedom-were I you, I would not, on his return, allow him to be on terms of such close intimacy-you understand me?"

"Cavendish, what do you mean?" exclaimed Lord Altamont, the blood rushing to his temples.

66

Nay, do not be alarmed! I mean nothing but this: he is a prating fellow, and assumes too much on his relationship, and his former engagement to Lady Altamont."

"Engagement! he was never engaged to Lady Altamont."

"The world says he was, and that he has never forgotten it, or forgiven you." "The world lies-and does he dare to hint

At that moment a servant entered with letters from the country. Lord Altamont tossed them over: "None from Rosabelle again to-day! she must be ill surely-but here is one from my sister."

He tore it open-his eyes became distended, he turned lividly pale, and the cold drops of agony started to his brow. "My friend!" exclaimed Mr. Cavendish; "Altamont! what is the matter?"

"Read-read!" muttered Lord Altamont, as he dropped the letter, and throwing himself back in his chair, covered his face with his hands. Mr. Cavendish read as follows:

time meditated. It cannot have escaped your his wife, and compared it with her, who, even observation, particularly of late, that my if innocent in fact, had acted with such folly mother's sentiments and my own have not and imprudence, that the purity of her fame been of that nature towards Lady Altamont, was irretrievably sullied. The blood of the which it is most desirable they should be, adulterer would scarcely wash away the and which it would materially conduce to stain, and he felt, for a moment, that he could our happiness to be enabled to entertain to- himself destroy even the life he had hitherto wards your wife. We have been influenced cherished, as far more precious than his own: by certain communications that have been in thought he raised his hand to strike, and made to us, and which we will faithfully de- in thought too he beheld her all lovely at tail to you when we see you. These com- his feet, and in silent despair awaiting the munications regard the conduct of the Count award of her transgression: then pity came, de Beauvilliers towards Lady Altamont. But and beneath her gentle touch the dark hues however well accredited, we should not have of the picture vanished, and he beheld Rosasuffered mere report to induce us to venture belle only as injured and defamed, betrayed on the decisive step we are now taking; but to slander by her own confiding simplicity; unhappily Lady Altamont's conduct under he recalled to mind her inability to deceive, our own eyes, leaves us no choice. The her devoted tenderness to himself, her spotCount de Beauvilliers has been Lady Alta- less chastity; he could not succeed in assomont's visitor for a day and two nights under ciating her image with aught of treachery circumstances so peculiar, that until they are or impurity; but as to Beauvilliers-consatisfactorily explained, my mother and my-cerning him, he had neither a doubt nor a self find ourselves under the painful neces- feeling of mercy.

sity of declining to visit or to receive her." It was evening when they arrived at the

The epistle closed with some commonplace attempt at consolation; and, as is usual in sister's letters, a few words of grave advice.

"He has then really been at Moorlands!" exclaimed Mr. Cavendish.

"Did you know any thing of his intention?" asked Lord Altamont, with forced calmness.

"My dear lord," replied Mr. Cavendish, "it was only my wish to give you a slight hint, to warn you against the approaches of what appeared to me a snake in the grass; I had no thought of repeating all the silly reports I had heard, much less any thing that has been dropped in confidential and convivial conversation; but Miss Altamont's letter gives another complexion to the affair, and I should not consider myself acting as your friend, if I did not inform you of all that I know."

He then related the reports that had occasionally reached him, observing, however, that none of these seriously affected the character of Lady Altamont, and that, admiring and approving of her as he did, they made no impression on his mind against her, until the evening before the count left town, when he met him at dinner at Lord Henry Beauclerk's; what then passed decided him to give the hint he had that morning ventured on. Mr. Cavendish concluded by an exact detail of what had passed at Lord Henry's. Lord Altamont listened in silent, deep, and concentrated emotion.

"Cavendish, go with me, now, instantly! and, throughout this affair continue to act as you have begun, as my friend." In half an hour they were on their road to Sussex.

Lord Altamont drew himself up in the corner of the carriage, with his hat over his eyes, and spoke not a word during the whole of the journey. Injured love and wounded pride wrung his heart by turns; he recalled the ideal image his youth had worshipped as

manor-house; their sudden appearance surprised the two ladies. "Order fresh horses on!" said Lord Altamont, as he ascended the stairs. He shook hands with his mother and sister, who received him in melancholy silence.

"We are come to stay but a few minutes with you. Tell us all that you have heard, and all that you know!"

His mother wept, and it was with an effort Miss Altamont found courage to speak; she perceived the tendency the affair had taken, but it was too late to recede. She repeated the flying rumors that had got into circulation, which were nearly similar to those that had reached Mr. Cavendish; she then said that the rest of her information had been derived from Mrs. Milicent, who had therefore better be called in to give her own testimony, which was agreed to.

Mrs. Milicent was an elderly, prim, upright spinster, born and bred on the estate, and, in her own way, a devoted adherent of the family; a severe disciplinarian, with a starched cap, mittens, and high-heeled shoes. She had always held in abhorrence the French match, and looked upon Rosabelle and her maid Fanchette, as little better than heathens. But Lord Altamont was aware that Mrs. Milicent, with all her prejudices, was rigidly honest, and never swerved from the truth. She entered with a countenance more than usually solemn and severe, and curtseyed respectfully.

"Mrs. Milicent," said Lord Altamont, "I desire you will repeat to me all that you have told my sister on the subject of the Count de Beauvillers, naming your authority."

66

My lord," replied Mrs. Milicent, “Ma'amselle Fanchette, as she is called, is my authority for as soon as she found out that a wellregulated English family was not the same as their outlandish ones, that some attention was paid to order and decency, and that she could neither say nor do all she pleased, she began to grumble, and turn up her nose, and

spoke a word of English. His servants down stairs kept a deal of gibing and laughing, and made very free with Fanchette; the valet said this was the way they always lived in Paris-his master made love up-stairs and they down-stairs; and much more of such trash they talked, till at last the housekeeper turned them out of her room, and told them to go and take their French tongue and their French manners into the kitchen, and that a decent English kitchen was a great deal too good for them. The next morning, (yesterday) the count went away after breakfast; he took leave of her ladyship in the breakfastroom, when no one was present."

"Is this all that you are aware of?" "This is all, my lord; I remember nothing more of consequence."

find fault, saying, 'That she heartily wished her young mistress had married her cousin, the count, who was very much in love with her; that then they should have lived all grand and gay in Paris, and not have been mewed up, like nuns in a convent, in a great, ugly, dull house, with nothing but rain outside, and beef and small beer inside. That French ladies were always allowed a lover beside their husband, who was never counted as one, and that we should see when the count came, how her lady would take to him.' I am sure, says I, ma'amselle, your lady is too well behaved to do any such thing; albeit, she is a French lady, and it comes almost natural to them to do what they should not. Then I asked her how she knew that the count was so fond of her lady, and then she told me as a secret, that the day before they And crossing her hands before her, Mrs. left Paris, the count came into her lady-ship's Milicent made another formal obeisance, and dressing-room to take leave of her, in the left the room. Almost at the same moment, dusk of the evening; that he was very mel- a servant announced that fresh horses were ancholy and tender-like-that she (ma'am- put to the carriage. Lord Altamont started selle Fanchette) went out of the dressing-room up; from a tray of refreshments that was and shut the door, and peeped through the brought in, he took a glass of water; then key-hole; that she saw the count take her advanced to his mother, and affectionately lady round the waist, and whisper close into embraced her; he turned to his sister, and her ear; that she did not see any more, for coldly touching her cheek, hastily left the some one came into the room where she was, room without speaking another word: his and she was obliged to get up from the key-mother would have followed him, but she was hole; that soon afterwards her lady came out, looking very agitated; that the count went down by the back stairs, and that the next morning he sent a note to you, my lord, to say that he was too ill to come himself and take leave, but that you never knew from that hour to this, that he had taken such a tender one of your lady."

Lord Altamont sat almost with his back to the speaker, his elbow resting on a table, and covering his eyes with his hand; he was evidently laboring under violent but suppressed emotion. A pause of a few minutes took place, he then continued his inquiry: "You were not, I believe, in town with the family

the last winter?"

"No, my lord; I remained here in charge." "Can you give me any information concerning the count's recent visit to my residence here, at Moorlands?"

prevented by Mr. Cavendish: "Be advised, madam, you know your son!" The afflicted mother sank back on her seat, and Mr. Cavendish took his leave.

Sir Charles Welburne's domain lay near to the next post-town, and Mr. Cavendish ordered the postillions to stop there.

Lord Altamont had assumed his former position in the carriage, but he was aware of a particular opening in the road, from whence he could see his own residence; as they passed it he bent forward, and by the bright moonlight clearly perceived his once happy home, the time-honored abode of his fathers, the promised haven of his own domestic felicity. The drawing-room was lighted, and he thought he perceived the graceful form of his young wife pass and repass by the windows; he even imagined she paused for a moment, as though the sound of their distant carriage"Yes, my lord: the housekeeper and but- wheels attracted her attention. A groan esler have informed me that late on Tuesday caped him, as he sank back. "O Rosabelle! evening last-(yes, Tuesday, to-day is Fri- how have I deserved this? I, who so dearly day) after Lady Altamont had returned prized, so fondly loved thee! who would have home from spending the day here, the count freely have given the last drop of my blood arrived. Ma'amselle Fanchette ran down for thy sake! O Rosabelle! how art thou stairs to meet him as though he were expect-lost! how hast thou fallen!" A convulsive ed: he was shown into her lady's dressing- sob shook his frame, and that most deeply room, supper was served there, and no one moving of all the effects of grief-tears from was permitted to wait but Fanchette. The proud eyes unused to shed them-tears coursnearest spare bed-room to her ladyship's, (the blue room,) was ordered to be prepared. The following day the count remained, in consequence, he said, of the bad weather. They spent the whole day together, except an hour or two while her ladyship was writing. After dinner, they walked arm-in-arm about the garden and grounds. After tea they played and sang French songs: they were very merry all day long, and never

ing down the cheek of lofty and enduring manhood, burst forth. His friend clasped his hand in silence: he felt that for such a woe there was no consolation.

It was between ten and eleven when the carriage drew up at Sir Charles Welburne's gate; the porter was in attendance, and, in answer to Mr. Cavendish's inquiries, informed them that the Count de Beauvilliers and Lord Henry Beauclerk were still there, but that

they were to take their departure on the fol- eye, and hand to hand; both were excellent lowing morning for Dover, and from thence swordsmen-both were gallant men. For a to France.

Lord Altamont and Mr. Cavendish continued their journey, and arrived at Dover time enough to take their passage the next day to Calais, which they reached with a favorable wind the same evening: here they intended to await the arrival of the count and his friend.

Part of the following day (Sunday) Lord Altamont was employed in writing such directions concerning his affairs as he considered proper, under the circumstances in which he was placed. He had one confidential servant with him; he called him and said, "William, whatever may happen—you understand me—whatever may happen, do you, without waiting a moment, or consulting any one, set off immediately to give the information to my mother. Here is money."

The favorable wind from the English coast still continuing, the daily packet arrived on Sunday evening; and the Count and Lord Henry had just established themselves in their apartment at an hotel, and ordered supper, when Mr. Cavendish was announced. He checked the warm welcome with which he was about to be received by a cool bow, and presented a note to the count, conveying Lord Altamont's challenge. The count, for a moment, felt himself taken by surprise; but immediately recovered, and having read the note, handed it to Lord Henry, coolly observing, "I expected as much. Lord Henry, will you be my second?"

66

Certainly," replied his lordship, when he had perused the challenge, "by all means." "Then I will leave you, my lord, and Mr. Cavendish together to settle the preliminaries only please to recollect that, as the choice of weapons, of course, rests with me, I decide for swords; they are the weapons of gentlemen; pistols are only fit for highwaymen. And make all the haste you can, I beg, for I am very hungry."

few minutes no advantage was gained on either side; but, as they fought, the animal instinct rose, their eyes kindled, and the strongest expression of animosity was apparent on every feature. Lord Altamont was more intent on destroying his adversary, than on guarding himself; he received a deep wound in his shoulder, but, at the same moment, he struck his sword into the breast of his enemy. The count fell, mortally wounded.

All present flew to his assistance; he was borne to a neighboring cottage, where the poor people made him up a clean bed, in which he was placed. The surgeon then examined the wound, and did all he could to lessen the pangs of the sufferer.

"Pray, doctor," whispered William, "tell me if there be any hope?"

"None," replied the surgeon; he may linger on for three or four hours, but no longer."

William immediately departed, and, according to his master's orders, made the best of his way to Moorlands.

Lord Altamont, pale, anxious, and regardless of his own wound, took his place at the pillow of the dying man. Presently the count revived, and became immediately sensible of his situation. He extended his hand towards Lord Altamont, who clasped it between his: "I have deserved this, my lord: Heaven is just-and merciful too, in granting me this little space of time to repair the mischief I have caused. He beckoned to the two seconds to approach nearer, as his voice was feeble and interrupted. "A revengeful feeling towards you, my lord, since you married Rosabelle de Clairville, and an inordinate vanity, have laid me on this, my dying bed. I confess to you freely, Altamont, I would have seduced your beautiful wife, if I could have done so; but never, except once, (in her dressing-room the evening before she left Paris,) did I presume to address her in the language of passion; but that once was sufficient. I have never been easily repulsed, and have had experience enough in the arts of women; but it was reserved for Rosabelle to teach me the power of real virtue—a look

The arrangements were soon completed between the seconds, and Mr. Cavendish took a formal leave. The count immediately reappeared, followed by supper, to which he did great justice, and was precisely in his usual spirits, neither depressed nor elevated. it was only a look—(I think I see it now !)— "Now really, he said, "this is kind of Alta- destroyed my hopes for ever. As I trust for mont-it is just the thing I wished him to do. mercy hereafter, I swear to you, not a word, Whether wounded or not, I shall travel to not a glance, have passed between us since, Paris with my arm in a sling, look rather but what the whole world might have witpale, knit my brows, and make an interesting nessed. But I was vain, I was revengeful, debut at the young Countess de B's. and to gratify both these unworthy feelings, There is nothing like an amor and a duel for I encouraged the belief that the love of Rohelping us on in the saloon and the boudoir." sabelle was mine: my late visit to Moorlands At five the next morning the combatants was so contrived as to confirm every suspiwere at the appointed spot. An English cion; and your challenge was matter of sig surgeon, and Lord Altamont's servant, Wil-nal triumph, for not only would it remove all liam, were within reach.

The parties bowed to each other; Lord Altamont looked grave and stern, the count as though he were going to play a match at cricket. The ground and weapons were measured, the gentlemen took their stations, and the word was given. They met-eye to

doubt of my success as a lover, but might ultimately prove the means of throwing your injured and innocent wife on my protection. You hear all this, Altamont, and still retain my hand in yours!"

"May God forgive you!" solemnly replied Lord Altamont, "as freely as I do! you have

erred in the headstrong vanity and folly of youth, and that error you are now far-far too severely expiating. Short-sighted mortals that we are!" he continued, clasping his hands and raising them towards heaven: "What would I now not give to save the life I have destroyed!"

""Tis in vain," murmured the count: then, after a pause, "Poor Rosabelle! unworthy as I have been, she will mourn my death. Soothe her, my lord! cherish and love her! she is a jewel beyond price."

A priest, who had been sent for, arrived; and the count went through the last and impressive ceremonies of his religion with humility and calmness: when they were concluded, he spoke no more, and about noon tranquilly expired.

coldly and almost insolently; their lady did not move out beyond her own grounds, but even there, meeting once or twice with some of the tenantry, they evidently avoided her. During the two former days, visitors were received as usual; but during the two latter, Rosabelle denied herself to every one, and wounded and dejected, full of doubt and apprehension, secluded herself as much as possible.

It could not help occurring to her that the Count de Beauvilliers was in some way connected with all this. Had she acted imprudently in receiving her cousin with so much confidence during the absence of her husband? Towards herself she felt that she had not acted imprudently, but-towards the world? Aye, there's the rub! The opinion of Force was in some degree necessary to re- the world, (as Miss Altamont had often said move Lord Altamont from the body; and, in to her,) ought to be respected; and perhaps using it, the severity of his wound, which had that mighty bugbear of the wicked and the been thought to be very slight, was first ob- weak, was affronted at her having transgressserved. He submitted to have it dressed, ed some of its acknowledged forms and rules. and was then, by Mr. Cavendish and the sur- She had partly a mind to question Fanchette; geon, hurried away to the sea-shore, where but second thoughts convinced her that such they hired and embarked on board a fishing- a step would be incorrect and degrading. boat for Dover; it not being judged prudent to wait for the packet of the following day. The wind was contrary, and for two days and nights they remained beating about in the straits. Lord Altamont's sufferings, both in mind and body, were very great; increased by his extreme anxiety to reach Moorlands, dreading, as he did, the effect of William's intelligence. On the second morning, just as they were entering Dover, the packet for Calais glided close by them; the surgeon proposed boarding her for refreshments, but was overruled, from their being now so near land, which they reached in safety about an hour afterward. Here we must leave them for the rest and refreshment none of the party could possibly proceed without, and take a survey of the events that had occurred at Moorlands.

Rosabelle was proud, and she resolved to await the storm she foresaw was coming, (though from what quarter and in what shape she was ignorant,) without either flinching from, or advancing to meet it.

Fanchette was silent and melancholy; she, of course, knew much more than her lady, and was becoming terrified at the recollection of all the tittle-tattle her imprudent vanity had betrayed her into.

(To be continued.)

IDEAL PROSPECTS.

SUNSET.

FAR was I in a region of bare peaks,
An alpine region, sternly desolate;
And on the highest of those peaks I sat,
Watching the sunset. Half, beyond the sea,
The broad red sun had sunk, around diffusing,
A glow, as of the burning of a world.
From thence up to the centre of the sky,
Ranges of clouds like alps, unto one point,
Were gathered from all quarters of the winds,
As there to witness that sublime descent;

Rosabelle, feeling somewhat affronted at the conduct of the ladies at the Manor House, on the day of the count's departure, for their neglect in not sending as usual for her letter, and at Miss Altamont's unceremonious disregard of her engagement to dinner, determined neither to send nor to call until they had offered some explanation. She forwarded the next day to the postman, by one of her own servants, her delayed letter to Lord Altamont, with an addition. Ill-fated Rosabelle! she-Temples and towers, on mountains of huge bulk, little thought how near her husband was that Immoveable, though based upon the air, very evening! she little thought, as she paced Glowing and sleeping in that ruddy light. her solitary drawing-room, whose look was, The earth, the ocean, and the clouds of heaven, for a moment, bent upon her in shame and In perfect harmony divinely blent, despair! Were with one radiant soul imbued and glad. One ruby seemed the ocean, tremulous, The earth like solid gold. I gazed, and gazed, With wonder filled, and filled with ecstasy; And thanked my God, emphatically thanked him, lived to look on that magnificence! Thus in my mind from earth divinely raised, Thought I had none of what I was, or whence; Mortality forgot itself, as dead; And the free soul, triumphing as a spirit, Was for the time immortal.

Four days elapsed-no letter from her husband, no visit or communication of any kind from his mother or sister. Some fatal mystery was surely hanging over her? There was a change in the deportment of her servants; they all refused to associate with Fanchette, who in consequence took up her abode entirely in her mistress's apartments; they performed their merely necessary duties

I