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eOGLELSCNS BIFERARY COMPANION Gov
1X5
intermingled now and then with a regretful mur-
mur, at the thought that so fair a young creature
was obliged to part with such a treasure,
“There,” said he in broken English, as he
severed the last long ringlet, “I have left a few
short curls round your forehead, which, with a
pretty head-dress, will look very well.”
Amelia, during herreturn home, was consoled
by the idea that a shelter, though a wretched
one, would be secured to them a little longer,
and that she should, for the present, be enabled
to procure those articles essential for her father’s
comfort. Mrs. Trevor and Sophia were, in the
meantime, holding a consultation with Monsieur
Lavalle, relative to the wig.. He assured them
that the material was so uncommonly good, that
he should find no difficulty in making one,
which, in the evening, could not be distinguished
from her natural hair.
“Cousin Ann,” said Doctor Derwenter, as he
entered Mrs. Lansing’s drawing-room, “ I have
come to ask a favor of you.”
*“Tam very glad, for I have one to ask of you,
which will make us even.
“ T wish youto write a note for me.”
‘Now, Frederick, you know [hate writing
notes, letters, or anything of the kind.”
“It is to be addressed to a pretty girl.” *
“ Ah, you wish me to intercede for you, but I
think speaking would be better than writing, in
your case, if you will only speak yourself. A
handsome person, a musical yoice, and a fine set
of teeth, will make a love speech scem eloquent,
that would appear quite insipid on paper. Who
is the lady—Sophia Rothsay ?”
“ No, one much lovelier.”
“ Bat to be serious, Frederick, what can you
mean by wishing me to write to a lady for you,
when you can perform the task ¢0 much better
yourself ?””
Derwenter, in reply, briefly related the situa-
tion of Mr. Fielding and his daughter. “ You
will see, Ann,” he said, in conclusion, “that a
young and beautiful female can, with more pro-
priety, receive assistance from a lady, than from
an unmarried man of five-and-twenty.”
“ Miss Fielding shall have Mrs. Cornish, who
is one of the best of nurses, to assist her,” re-
plied Mrs. Lansing.
Having retired for a few minutes, she returned
with the note in her hand.
‘Read it,” said she, “and see if you approve
of it”?
- Itran thus:
“Mrs. Lansing having been informed of the
severe indisposition of Miss Fielding’s father,
and knowing that good nurses are sometimes
difficult to obtain, takes the liberty to’ recom-
mend to her Mrs. Cornish, who will, unless Miss
Fielding expresses a wish to the contrary, be
with her at four o’clock this afternoon.” :
“Thank you, Ann, but Mrs. Cornish will re-
quire something more substantial than thanks,
which you will find in this wallet.”
“No, Frederick—allow me the pleasure.”
“Not a word, if you please—now tell me the
fayor you wish me to do for you.”
“Only to call at Lavalle’s, and request him to
arrange some a in a locket. I promised my
sister, who, you know, is now in Europe, to
send her some of little Milly’s as soon as she
had enough so she could spare a little, and I wish
to send it by the next packet. Is not this bean-
tiful ?” said the mother, displaying two or three
little rings of soft, silky hair of a pale gold color.
“Yes, little Milly has very pretty hair, and
should she live, it may, one day, be as beautiful
as Amelia Fielding’s.”
“Ah, Frederick, though you have ‘a heart
open as day to melting Charity,’ I fear it is no
less accessible to the softer passion.”
As Derwenter was admitted to the presence
of the perruquier, he found him contemplating
with artist-like admiration, the rich pile of tresses
which he had just placed in a convenient situa-
tion, preparatory to commencing his task. At
sight of these, Derwenter started, and the quick
blood flushed with crimson his brow. He felt
assured that it was Amelia Ficlding’s hair that
lay before him. It had tho same softness, the
same unrivalled tint, the same laxuriance, He
was about to inquire of Lavalle where he ob-
tained it, but checking himself, he did his cousin’s
errand, and left the shop with tho determination
to ascertain if his conjecture were truo. His
hand absolutely trembled as he knocked at Mr.
Fielding’s door. Itwas opened by Amelia, who
had had just time to finish and put on a little
cap of plain, cotton lace. She looked like a
pretty Quakeress, and had Derwenter never seen
her with the long hair, which one of the sa-
cred writers has pronounced a glory to a woman,
the sweet blue eyes hastily veiled at his unex-
pected presence, the beautiful lips, round which,
hovered a faint, half-sorrowful smile, and the
transparent complexion, for the moment, glowing
with a vivid bloom, might have satisfied his
ideas of beauty.
“T thought,” said he, “as I was passing near,
I would look in and see if your father remained
comfortable.”
“ You are very kind, doctor,” she replied, “to
be thus attentive, when everything must remind
you that there is little hope of remuncration, but
a kind and considerate lady has promised to send
a nurse, which will enable me to devote more
time to my needle.”
She made no allusion to the sacrifice she had
made, and he endeavored to appear as if he did
not observe it.
. The evening appointed for Mrs, Lansing’s
party arrived. As most of the elite of the city
were expected to be present, Sophia Rothsay had
taken great pains to procure an elegant dress.
‘The wig fitted so exactly, and the hair was ar-
ranged so naturally, that, although differently
from that she had lost, it possessed a kind of
golden lustre, as if the evening sunbeams had
lingered amid the soft, luxuriant curls, till they
had left atinge of their own brightness, a per-
son, unless prepared by some previously awaken-
ed suspicion, would not have imagined it to be
false. Mrs. Trevor told her that sho had never
looked so well, and Sophia thought so herself.
Not a speck sullied her snowy brow and tem-
ples, which, with the soft, peach-like bloom of
her checks and chin, afforded a. fine contrast to
eyes of midnight blackness, whose almost light-
ning glances were subdued by those long, droop-
ing eyelashes, so often coveted, so rarcly bestow-
ed. Derwenter had began to look for her arrival
with some anxiety, Mrs, Trevor’s carriage being
one of the last that drew up before the stately
mansion of Mrs. Lansing. Although he had
never opened his lips concerning it, even to his
cousin, a kind of vague belief, which he had
vainly striven to repel, had taken possession of
his mind, that it was to her, that Amelia Fiefa-
ing had made the sacrifice of her hair,
“ Frederick,” said Mr. Lansing, as she enter-
ed the apartment, “if you can withstand such
an assemblage of charms, you have no heart.
Her beauty is perfectly ravishing, and I must go |
listen to the low, musical voice of my own sweet
wife, and catch the beaming of her soft blue eyes,
or I may forget that her beauty is more winning,
if less striking.”
“Did you ever see such beautiful hair, Der- |
wenter ?” said a friend of his who stood near, as
she passed go as it caught the rays of a cluster
of lights, causing it to gleam as if a shower of
gold were falling over it. “If I mistake not,
Cupid will send thence more than one arrow
to-night.”
“He may, if he please, send with certain aim,
a dozen fiery shafts tome, I haye ice enough
round my heart to quench every one. of them,
that can come from that quarter.”
“What mean you, Derwenter? I imagined,
to steal a word from your vocabulary, that you
were already predisposed to fall in love with So-
phia Rothsay, I am soccrtain that I shallcome
off ‘fancy-free,’ that I think that I shall venture
to dance with her.”
Saying thus, he crossed over to the opposite
side of the room, where she had drawn around
her several of the most fashionable gentlemen,
one of whom had already invited her to dance.
As he drew near, he involuntarily fixed his eyes
upon the hair, which could not but command
the admiration of the most envious betle pres-
ent. She observed it, and her color, deepened
until it burnt upon her cheeks. So thoroughly
satisfied was he, that he had not been wrong in
his conjecture, that ho turncd away with a sen-
sation akin to loathing, as, in imagination, he
beheld her taking advantage of suffering and
sorrow, to enable her to gratify her own pride
and vanity.
“Ishall not dance with Miss Rothsay, this
evening,” said he to the gentleman to whom he
had just been speaking.
“You are afraid to stand the trial, then 7”
“That will, at least, bo as gallant a way as
my for interpreting my change of resolution.”
“¥or myself, I shall probably act the part of
the silly moth, while you, being wiser, will es-
cape a singe.”
sharing it with me!”
While Miss Rothsay, with the exception of
him, whom she most wished to please, was at-
tracting general admiration, although, in some
instances, there might be a little of the bitter
spice of envy intermingled, Amelia Fielding, by
the light of a dim lamp, sat employed upon a
garment, the remuneration she expected to re-
ceive for which, she intended to lay aside with a
small sum she had already earned, to pay the
doctor’s bill, She was alone with her sick
father, for Mrs. Lansing had, early in the morn-
ing, sent to request the services of Mrs. Corn-
ish for that day and evening, if she could dis-
pense with her assistance, as she could not, her-
self, give the necessary attention to one of her
children slightly ill, It was about ten o’clock,
that her father, after a sound and protracted
sleep, for the first time, since stricken with the
last dreadful malady, awoke to perfect con-
sciousness. IIe beheld Amelia, whose back
was partly towards him, but with her little close
cap, did not recognize her.
“Where is my daughter ?” said he.
“Tere I am, father,” said she, starting from
her chair, and she was at his bed-side in a mo-
ment.
“What has happened?” said he, regarding
her with a scrutinizing look. ‘“ What has become
of that beautiful hair, which, in spite of our
poverty and wretchedness, I had still a pride in
beholding ?”
He would not be put off, and she wa’ obliged
to tell him why she had parted with it, and the
amount of the pecuniary compensation received
in return. The name of the person who pur-
chased it, she could not disclose, for ske was ig-
norant of it herself. Ife made no comment
whatever, but while with one of bis hands he
clasped her’s, with the other he veiled his eyes
to hide the tears which gushed forth, despite his
efforts to force them back to his swelling heart.
Amelia was greatly alarmed, for she feared that
his agitation would induce a return of his dis-
ease, At this crisis some person knocked at the
door. She opened it, and, to her surprise, be-
held Doctor Derwenter.
“T cannot express,” said she, “ how thankful
Iam, that you have come. My father awoke,
just now, quite sensible, but is so agitated at my
altered appearance, or, rather, his feelings are
so deeply touched at my being compelled,
through poverty, to make such a sacrifice, that
unless his attention can be engaged by some
object, I fear the consequences may be fatal.”
Derwenter, without hardly being conscious of
what he did, took her hand, which he fervently
pressed to his heart. Then as suddenly relin-
quishing it, ‘Tell me Amelia, said he, “if you
know the name of the person, whose vanity and
selfishness could induce her to ask such a sacri-
fice of you ?”
“T do not.”
“Permit one moro question, and I will hasten
to your father. Where did you see her ?”
“The person who named the subject to me,
was the agent for another. Ilere, I met at
Lavalle’s.”
“Enough—I am satisfied. I have seen her
thisevening. She is dazzling the eyes, and be-
witching the hearts of all that behold her. ' But
there is one heart, which beats beneath the faded
garb of poverty, which, could I receive it in ex-
change for my own, would be to me a gem
above all price. Is there hope for me, Amelia ?”
“Doctor Derwenter,” said she, while tears
filled her eyes, “I fear you do not consider
what you say. Come, now, and speak to my
father.”
“Father,” said she, approaching the bed,
“here is the physician I spoke to you about,
who was providentially near at the time your
symptoms became more alarming.”
Mr. Fielding, who had grown calmer, gave
him his hand, and thanked him for his attention.
“Tt: is,” said he, “the physician's lot, to visit
the abodes of wretchedness. For myself, I could
bear up under the sad reverse of fortune by
which we have been visited. But to fecl that
my. daughter’s portion through life must be one
of unmitigated privation and toil, infuses a poi-
son into the cup of which I am compelled to
drink, which has long been withering the very
springs of lifo,
“Consent,” said Derwenter, “to accept a
home more worthy of you both, than tho one
you havo now. This evening a letter was put
into my hand, informing me that I had come
into possession of an independent fortune. Will
not you and your daughter make me happy by
“ Ah, doctor, know you not that the loveliest
and wealthiest, are now at your command ?””
“Tt may be so, but as I have wealth enough
of my own, if I can find a bride with jewels in
her heart, I care not how few she is able to wear
on her brow.”
“Somewhat too much pride, perhaps, clings
tome yet. Wait a little. It may be, that my
health will permit me to engage in business.
You may deem it a weakness, but I feel that it
would be a comfort to me, to be able by my
own unaided efforts, to provide for her and my-
self.” Fearful that the exertion of conversing
so much, might prove injurious to his patient in
his present state of debility, the doctor forbore
to press the subject, and soon afterwards took
his leave.
Mr. Fielding’s return to health was hence-
forth repaid. The clouds which had so long
veiled the star of hope, were now, as if by the
hand of some good angel, sometimes drawn
aside, revealing its serene and radiant beauty.
Some time had elapsed since the foregoing con-
yersation, and he was able to sit up nearly the
whole day, when Doctor Derwenter entered one
evening with rather an excited air, with a news-
paper in his hand.
“T have something here which I wish to read
you, if you will listen,” said he,
“Certainly,” replied Mr. Fielding, somewhat
alarmed at his appearance.
He then read the subjoined advertisement :
“Andrew Liston, executor of the estate of
Thomas Fielding, late of the city of London,
deceased, takes this method to apprize Rufus
Fielding, the heir at law, believed to be now a
resident of the United States, that he may at
any time within a year from the first day of
April next, take possession of the Said estate,
which is valued at fifty thousand pounds,
Should he fail to do so, within the time men-
tioned as aforesaid, the whole of the above
named estate will be appropriated as devised in
the late. Thomas Fielding’s will, which is subject
to no other contingency.
London, January 1, 10—.”
“You see, my dear sir,” said he, when he had
finished reading it, “that your wish is gratified.
You are now able to surround yourself and
daughter with every comfort.”
“And by means totally unexpected,” he re-
plied. “My uncle Thomas Fielding, displeased
at my father’s marriage, from that time ceased
all intercourse with him. It is about ten years
since I came to the United States, and have
never until now received any intelligence con-
cerning him. Ile was at that time a widower,
and had a son and daughter, who are of course
no longer living.”
It was neccssary that Mr. Fielding should
either go to England himself, or employ an
agent. As it was uncertain whether his health
would be sufficiently restored to undertake the
voyage, Doctor Derwenter offered his services,
whis being accepted, he embarked the first op-
portunity, His voyage was a prosperous one,
and as Mr. Fielding preferred remaining in his
adopted country, he fortunately succeeded in
disposing of the estate for its full value.
A few months after his return, as Sophia
Rothsay was one day sitting with a newspaper
in her hand, her eye was arrested by the name
of Frederick Derwenter. ~ It was contained in a
paragraph announcing his marriage with Ame-
lia Fielding. Her Aunt Trevor being present,
she read it aloud.
“You will see, aunt,” said sho, “ that my sel-
fish vanity has at length met its full reward.
By it, I disgusted the only man I ever cared to
win. Iknew by the look he gave me that even-
ing at Mrs. Lansing’s, when I imagined my
power over him would prove complete, that he
had by some means ascertained the whole truth.”
“This pretty little girl who sold us her hair,
is really then Doctor Derwenter’s bride. Well,
never mind, Sophia, there are others as good as
he is.”
“Tt may bo as you say, but I know of none
who have any attractions for me.”
REVENGEFUL SWALLOW,
A gentleman of Brenchley having shot a hen-
swallow which was skimming in the air, accom- .
panied by her mate, the caraged partner imme-
diately flew at the fowler, and, as if to revenge
the loss it had sustained, struck him it the face
with its wing, and continued flying around him
with every appearance of determined anger. For
several wecks afcer the fatal shot, the bird contin-
ned to annoy the gentleman whenever it met with
he nm, except on Sundays, when it did not recog-
nize him, in consequence of his change of dresr. =