her liveliness, her "infinite variety," with joyous abandon. They sung, read, danced, strolled, and rode together, always preserving the utmost harmony and good-will. For Kate's success in the part I wished her to play, I had never any fear. Aside from her beauty, which is undeniable, though on the brunette order, and her accomplishments, which are many, she has a certain indescribable attractiveness of manner, an earnest, appealing, endearing way—a “je-ne-sais-quoi-sity," as a witty friend named it, which would be coquetry, were it not felt by all alike, men, women, and children, who find themselves in her presence. It is without effort, a perfectly unconscious power, I am sure. Thus, I did not fear for Kate, provided Harry was heart-whole; but this fact I could not settle to my entire satisfaction. My Cousin Alice sometimes joked him about a certain fair maid he had known at New Haven, while in college, evidently wishing it to appear that she knew vastly more than she chose to reveal; and then Miss Grant was certainly a dangerous rival-far more beautiful, according to the common acceptation of the term, than my friend, with the advantage, if it be one, of a prior acquaintance. I One morning, as we were returning home, after having made a call on Miss Louisa, Harry, who once, for a wonder, was walking with me, began questioning me concerning my opinion of her. evaded his question for awhile, but at length told him frankly that I could not speak freely and critically unless assured that I should give him no pain thereby. "Oh, if that's all," replied Harry, with a laugh, "go on, and 'free your mind, sister'-I shall be a most impartial auditor." Need I confess that I was far from displeased with this little speech of my cousin's. I was silent for a few moments, and then, with my head full of Kate and her fortunes, said, while pulling to pieces a wildflower, which Harry had just gallantly presented to me, "Well, then, cousin, you don't love any body in particular, just now, do you?" I raised my eyes when I had said this, to meet Harry's fixed on my face, with a strange, indefinable expression-something of what is called a "killing look," so full of intense meaning was it; but around his mouth lurked a quiet drollery, which betrayed him, even while he replied to my singular question in a tone meant to tell, "Why, my dearest cousin, at this moment, I cannot say that I do not." I broke at once into a laugh of merry mockery, in which he joined at last, though not quite heartily; and we hastened to rejoin Ned, Kate and Alice, who were somewhat in advance. On reaching our room I told Kate enough of my conversation with Harry to prove that he was really not the lover of Louisa Grant; and with a blush and a smile, she kissed and thanked me. Why should she thank me? Thus matters went on-Captain Fogg's star declining visibly, and Harry Grove's evidently in the ascendant, until the last week of our stay, when a little incident occurred which had quite a disturbing influence on the pleasant current of my thoughts and Kate's. One afternoon, while Harry was out shooting woodcock, of which Kate was very fond, on going up to my room, I perceived the door of Harry's open, and saw his easil standing before the window, with a picture upon it. I could not resist the temptation of "Indeed, Harry!—has there, then, been no mean-seeing what this might be, and entered the room. ing to your attentions in that quarter ?" The picture was a small female head-the face rather fair, with dark blue eyes. It was probably a portrait, still unfinished. The likeness I did not recognize, though it looked like half a dozen pretty faces I had seen-Kate's and Miss Grant's among the number. To the bottom of the picture was attached a slip of "Why, as to that," he replied, "I have always admired the girl's beauty, and have flirted with her too much, perhaps, but there is not enough in her to pin a genuine love to; I have found her utterly characterless; and then, she affects a ridiculous fear of fire-arms, and behaves like a sick baby on horse-paper, bearing these lines: back." "But, cousin," I rejoined, "you do not want a wife to hunt with you, and ride horseback; Miss Grant is a young lady of domestic virtues and refined tastes-is she not?" "Yes, and no. I believe she is a good housekeeper; she takes pains to let one know that-a perfect walking cookery-book; but for her refinement! Have you never noticed her coarse voice, and how much use she makes of provincialisms? She might sing well, but always makes mistakes in the words. She professes a passion for flowers; but last spring, coz, I helped her make her garden, and heard her say piney' and 'layloc'-I never could marry a woman who said 'piney' and 'layloc!' and then she called pansies-' pansies, that's for thoughts'those flowers steeped in poetry as in their own dew -Jonny-jump-ups!' Bah! and then, she vulgarizes her own pretty name into Lo-izy!" "Glow on the canvas, face of my beloved! Smile out upon me, eyes of heavenly blue! Than to the pleading voice of my adoring heart!" When I had read this verse, I remained standing before the picture in a thoughtful trance. I was finally startled by a deep sigh, and turning, saw Kate just behind me. She had also seen the portrait of the unknown, and read those passionate lines. She turned immediately and passed into her room. When I rejoined her, a few moments after, she was reading, apparently deep in "Martin Chuzzlewit," but tears were falling on the page before her. "Martin's return to his grandfather is a very affecting scene," she observed. I naturally glanced over her shoulder; the book was open at that "tempest-in-a-teapot" scene, the memorable misunderstanding between Sairey Gamp and Betsey Prig. Oh, Kate, Kate! thy heart had gone many days' journey into the life and fortunes of quite another than Martin. In the evening Captain Fogg honored us, and Kate was unusually affable and gay. She sung none but comic songs, and her merry laugh rang out like a peal of bells. During the evening we played a game of forfeits, and it was once adjudged that the captain should relate a story, to redeem his turquoise breastpin. He told a late dream, which was, that once, on taking a morning walk to hear the birds sing, he found Miss Richmond completely lost in a fog, and refused to help her out! About half way to the village we saw before us an old Indian woman, well known in all the country round as a doctress, or witch, according to most people. She was bent almost double, and looked very feeble, though she was said to be still marvelously active and vigorous. Suddenly the captain, who had galloped on a little to display his horsemanship, came dashing back, exclaiming "Now, young ladies, for some glorious fun! Do you see that old squaw yonder?" "Yes," said Alice Grove, "that is old Marthawhat of her?" "Why, I mean to have some rare sport. I'll invite her to take a ride behind me. I'll ride up to the fence for her to get on, and then, just as she makes her spring, spur Saladin, and let her land on Oh, how he sparkled, as he fairly got off his witti- the ground. cism, and saw that it took! "Oh, don't! don't!" cried we all in chorus; but "Ah, captain," said I, "you must have a gift for the captain was off and already speaking to old punning." "Something of one, Miss," he replied, with a complacent pull at his imperial. "I was into White's, the other day, buying some music, and White offered me a song called 'Mary's Tears,' which I told him must have a tremendous run! White laughed till he cried, and threatened to expose me in our paper! 'Pon honor, he did so!" The captain informed us that the following would be a great day for the militia, as there was to be on the village-green of W, a parade and review; and he gallantly begged the honor of our presence. We graciously testified our willingness to patronize the show, provided Harry would drive us into town for the purpose. On leaving, the captain requested the loan of Harry's noble horse, Saladin, which had been trained to the field, for the grand occasion. He would come for him in the morning, he said. Harry consented, with rather a bad grace, I thought. He is a perfect Arab in his loving care for his horse. The next morning, about ten, the captain called and found us all ready-the barouche waiting at the door. Colonel Grove, who is a gentleman of the ancien regimé, invited the young officer, who was in complete uniform, to take wine with him. It was really laughable-the captain's affectation of a cool, bon-vivantish indifference, as he tossed off glass after glass of the sparkling champagne, showing himself to be far from familiar with that exhilarating and insidious beverage. He grew elevated momentarily; his very words soared majestically above mere common sense, and his eyes winked of strange mysteries, and flashed unutterable things. At length were we civilians seated in the barouche and driving toward W, at a brisk rate, the captain causing Saladin to wheel and caracole beside us in a most remarkable manner. Ah, how did the harmless lightning of his wit play around us! how were his compliments showered upon us like bonbons in carnival-time! How beautifully was he like the sparkling wine he had so lately quaffed-what was he but a human champagne-bottle, with the cork just drawn! Martha. She evidently liked his proposition, for she quickly climbed the fence, preparatory to mounting. The captain wheeled his horse to within about two feet of her-she gave a spring-he spurred his steed, which leaped wildly forward—but too late! Old Martha was safe on Saladin's back, her long, bony arms clasped closely round the waist of his rider-and, hurrah, they were off at a dashing rate. Harry whipped up his grays, and we presently overtook the equestrians. Captain Fogg had succeeded in checking Saladin, and was striving to persuade old Martha to dismount, but in vain; she would ride to the village, as he had invited her. He coaxed, threatened, and swore-but all to no purpose; she would go on to the village! At last, in endeavoring forcibly to unclasp her arms, Fogg dropped the rein, and Saladin, worried and frightened, started off at a furious gallop, and tore down the street like mad. Oh, the rich, indescribable ludicrousness of the sight! Such a conspicuous figure was the captain, so splendidly mounted, with "sword and pistols by his side," and all his burnished buttons and buckles glistening in the morning sun; and then that ridiculous old woman, in her tattered Indian costume, seated behind him, clinging convulsively to his waist, and bounding up half a foot with every leap of the frantic steed. The ends of the captain's scarlet sash floated back over her short black petticoat, and the white horse-hair of his military plume mingled ingloriously with her long elf-locks streaming in the wind. The dirty woollen blanket of old Martha became loose, and flew backward, held only by one corner, exposing her bright blue short-gown, trimmed with wampum, while her red leggings got up quite a little show on their own account. As thus they dashed on, faster and faster, they spread astonishment and consternation as they went. A farmer, who with his son was gathering apples from a tree near the road, saw the vision-dropped his basket, and knocked down his first born with an avalanche of pippins. An old lady, who was hanging out clothes in her yard, struck with sudden fright and sore dismay, fell backward into her clothes KATE RICHMOND'S BETROTHAL. 13 basket, as white as a sheet, and as limp as a wet | reached down his head to drink. In his troubled towel. abstraction, Harry let go the rein, which fell over the head of his horse. With a muttered something, which was not a benediction, Harry dismounted to Young urchins let go the strings of kites, leaving them to whirl dizzily and dive earthward—left "terrestrial pies" unfinished, and took to their heels! A red-regain it, when Saladin, in one of his mad freaks, haired damsel who was milking by the road-side, on beholding the dread apparition, turned pale, and ran, and the cow, following her example, also turned pail and ran! But most excruciatingly and transcendentally ridiculous was the scene when Saladin, over whom the captain had lost all control, reached the paradeground, and dashed in among the soldiers and spectators. Hats were tossed into the air, and shouts of laughter and derisive hooras resounded on every side. But fortunately for poor Fogg, Saladin suddenly perceived a part of the cavalry company, who, in the absence of their captain, were going through some informal and supererogatory exercises, and obedient to his military training, wheeled into line, and stood still, with head erect and nostrils distended. "For Heaven's sake, boys," cried the captain, "haul off this old savage!" But the worthy Martha, wisely declining such rough treatment, leaped to the ground like a catmade a profound courtesy, and with a smile rather too sarcastic for so venerable a person, said, gave a quick leap away and galloped up the glen after his mate. Harry was about to follow, but an odd thought coming into his brain, he threw himself on the turf instead, and lay perfectly still, with closed eyes, listening to the gallop of the two steeds, far up the glen. Presently he heard them stop-then turn, and come dashing down again with redoubled speed. Nearer and nearer came Kate. She was at his side-with a cry of alarm she threw herself from her horse and bent above him. "Harry, dear Harry, were you thrown-are you injured?" she cried, raising the head of the apparently unconscious man, and supporting it on her knee. "Oh, Heaven! he is hurt-he does not hear me!" she murmured, laying back the hair from his forehead and pressing her lips upon it wildly and repeatedly. Harry's eye-lids remained hermetically sealed, but a queer, comical expression began to play around the corners of his mouth, and was about to betray him, when he suddenly opened his eyes, with a look of triumphant impudence, and broke into a peal of joyous laughter. "Me tank you, cap'en-old Martha no often have Kate dropped his head with a movement of indigsuch fine ride, with such pretty man, all in regi-nation and dismay-sprung up-led her horse to the ments!" After this rare comedy, the review was a matter of little moment, and we soon returned home, not even waiting for the tragedy of the sham-fight. trunk of a fallen tree, just by, from which she leaped into her saddle, and was off almost as soon as Harry had regained his feet. Again the faithless Saladin left his master in the lurch, and followed Kate, who went at a furious rate, never pausing nor looking back; so the somewhat discomforted Harry was ob On the afternoon of the following day, Harry invited Kate to take a horse-back ride-and the incidents of that ride, as I received them from my friend,liged to foot it home, a matter of "twa mile and a I will relate to the best of my ability. The equestrians took a route which was a favorite with both-up a glen, wild and unfrequented, through which ran a clear, silver stream. It happened that Harry was in one of his lawless, bantering moods, and teazed Kate unmercifully on the gallant part played by her lover, the captain, on the preceding day. Kate, who was not in the most sunny humor, began to rally him about "Lo-izy" Grant, and the New Haven belle. Suddenly Harry became grave, and said, in an earnest tone, "Shall I tell you, Kate, just the state of my heart?" bittock," as they say in Scotland. That night Kate had a headache, and did not appear at the tea-table, nor join the evening circle, where poor Harry was cross-questioned without mercy on the strange circumstance of having been left behind both by his horse and lady-fair. "Ah, Kate," said I, as I joined her at the close of the evening, "I have something to tell you. While you were dressing for your ride to-day, Harry called me into his room to show me that picture-and will you believe, it is only a bad portrait of yourself! Harry sketched it long ago for Louisa Grant, but has lately been making some important alterations, "Don't trouble yourself," she coolly replied, "it and now he thinks it strikingly like you. I really is a matter of no moment to me." "There, now, you are insincere," said Harry, with a saucy smile, leaning forward to strike a fly from Saladin's neck, "it is a matter of some moment to you, for you know that I love you, and that you are not entirely indifferent to my love." wonder we did not see the resemblance; the poetry was meant for you alone." "Oh, Grace, Grace!" murmured Kate, in a bitter tone, "if you had only told me this before I went to ride!" At breakfast, the next morning, there was no Harry -two hours before he had whistled his dog and "Sir, you mistake in addressing such language to me-you are presuming," said Kate, with a petri-shouldered his gun, and set out on a crusade in fying hauteur; and giving her horse a smart cut with the whip, galloped on. Surprised, and somewhat angry, Harry checked his own horse, and gazed after her till she was lost in a bend of the winding road. As he stood by the side of the rivulet, Saladin turkey-land. But long before noon the young hunter returned, and inquiring for Kate, was directed to the library, where she sat, striving to drive away her sad mood, according to her own cheerful philosophy, by light reading. She had chosen "Hood's Prose and Verse," instead of Miss Landon's Poems, which stood on the same shelf. Again I must tell the story as it was told to me. As Harry entered, Kate coloring deeply, started up-stood still a moment, and then sat down again, uttering not a word. Harry, seating himself near her, took off his hunting-cap, ran his fingers nervously through his hair, and in a tolerably steady voice began, "I could have no peace, Miss Richmond, until I had begged your pardon for my unparalelled impertinence yesterday. I intreat you to believe that I had in my heart no intentional disrespect for you. I pray your forgiveness for my first rash wordswhat you called my presumption. For the other daring act, I am not so deeply repentant, for I would willingly have my head broken in reality, to have it lie for another moment where it laid yesterday; yet for that also I ask pardon. Do you grant it?" "With all my heart," said Kate, smiling; but Harry continued "I have been, indeed, most presuming and conceited, in supposing for a moment that I could be any thing to you; and, perhaps," he continued, with a proud curl of the lip, "we have both been mistaken in according too much meaning to trifling words and acts-we two have flirted desperately, Kate,—have we not?" Kate bit her lip in vexation, and a shade of disappointment passed over her face. Just then the eyes of the two met, for the first time for some minutes, and the ridiculousness, the utter absurdity of they two endeavoring to deceive one another-to conceal for a moment longer the blessed truth that they loved one another, broke upon them at once, and they burst into a long and merry laugh. "Well," said Harry, at last, dashing the tears of mirth from his flashing eyes, and seating himself | nearer Kate," it is time I at least was serious, for the deepest and strongest feelings of my heart will make themselves heard. Kate, dear Kate, whether it gives you pleasure to know it, or not, I must tell you how truly, how devotedly, and, though you will scarce believe that, how reverentially I love you! I am a strange, wild fellow, Kate, somewhat rude and over-mirthful; but you, I am sure, can make me what you wish. Will you undertake the task?" "With all my heart," she again replied, frankly extending her hand. "Blessings on your sweet soul, Kate!-butbut-" "But what, Harry?" "Not much, only will you allow me to pay you back that small coin you bestowed on me yesterday, in your Christian charity ?” "Oh, I'll forgive you the debt," said Kate, laughing. "No, dear, I'll not take advantage of your generosity, but pay you to the uttermost farthing "Ah, hold! that is all, now-a thousand times more than I gave you!" Suddenly the happy lover darted out of the room, and presently returned, saying, "See, Kate! a portrait of you, from memory." "Ah, indeed!" said Kate. "But, Harry, you have made my dark hair quite an auburn, and it has only the slightest golden hue when the sunlight falls upon it." "Well," he replied, "to my eyes, there was always sunlight playing around you." "Ah, thank you; but again, these eyes are dark blue, and mine are gray, or by complaisance, hazle." "A very natural mistake, dearest," said Harry, with an arch smile, "I saw heaven in your eyes, and so came to paint them blue." THE CORSAIR'S VICTIM. (AN EXTRACT FROM "ZILLAH.”) BY WM. H. C. HOSMER. WHEN Night, upon her starry throne, Of strong link breaking, with a clang, The Corsair raised with ready skill One thrust of his stiletto freed The crazed one from his load of ill. The pleading look and wild appeal Of Zillah could not stay the steel; A sheath of her own breast had made ; His victim to the ocean vast, As if the war of life was over, To join the spirit of her lover. She woke at last from her long swoon, The crimson of his veins had drank: Were coming down, with battle-songs, To wash out sternly in the blood Of coward-hearts her many wrongs: No tear-drop came to her relief In that wild, parching hour of grief, The tender plant of love she knew Would into verdure break no moreThe spot was arid where it grew In green luxuriance before. She knew henceforth her lot below Would be to quaff the cup of painOn thing of Earth she could not throw The sunlight of her smile again: The voice was still whose melting tone Had vied in sweetness with her ownThe hiding wave had closed above The only object of her love; And Rispah, as strict watch she kept, While cold, like forms of Parian stone, Her sons on gory couches slept, Felt not more desolate and lone. In many hearts the gloomy sway Of sorrow lessens, day by day, Until the charms of life at last O'CONNELL. Blot out remembrance of the past: May stay the wasting march of grief: With peals of loud, unmeanining mirth. Weeks flew but Zillah in their flight Strove oft, but vainly, to forget The horrors of that fatal night, When her beloved star, whose light Made bondage pleasant, set. No murmur from the lip outbroke, The desolating fire within. By day and in the hush of eve, That lawless crime could ill withstand Gives agony supreme control, And prompts the wretched one to hide 15 |