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dvlwssfi WW-'11 V 11W; ‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘
jaiwijwiinjli’ ElIii'”Eit:;r:
GLANCES INTO A HEART YET BEATIN G.
m.
BY WINIFRED VVOODFERN.
.:m.
DEDICA TION. - Tu . . . . . . . . . . . .
If aught here lies of merit,
The praise thou shouldst inherit,
Since, loveward turned, thine eyes have learned
To guide my wayward spirit.
For the heart that never has blamed me,
For the lips that never defamed me.
open the scroll, whence speaks the soul
Of all they have fondly named me.-17:: Aulhor.
[In the course of our editorial experience,
we have been frequently iinpm-tuned to publish in “ Love
Story,” but have as often declined, simply from the met that there are many who look upon romances
of that class, arowedly such, as insipid as they are loving. But the story we here announce is divested
of anything which can be justly charged as insipid, unnatural, or infected with what is called senti-
mentality. It is of I very high literary stamp,
ate, intellectual emotion, couched in eloquent
author in our language.-Ed. Literary
Chapter Fonneellh-Concluded.
LIVE drew her friend towards her with
a gentle hand. She spoke no word ; but
the dearest sympathy is ever silent. Jael
gathered strength from that genial embrace.
Ere long her eyes wore a sofl:er glance-her
cheek burned less painfully. She covered
her thee with her hands, and wept long and
silently.
Blessedbethe angel of tears! His is a
kind and gentle office; he strengthens the
weary heart when its burden becomes too
heavy-he brings peace to the soul, and rest
to the body.
The two sat silent for a time. J acl grew
calm once more. With a quick motion she
throw off the heavy raven curls she wore,
and the golden singlets which Olive had
loved so well, glistened faintly in the twi-
light, cut short, but still glossy and beautiful
as ever. She rose to her feet. “ I have
lived.a false life too long,” said she.‘ “ Olive,
I would resume the dress of my sex. I hate
this disguise.”
Madame Peschiera. rose, and led the way
to an inner apartment. They passed through
the alcove, and shading the light, so that it
might not awaken the sleeper, the proud
mother bent over the bed, and beckoned
Jae! to her side. “ See,” said she softly,
“ In my girlhood you listened to the story
of my wrong, and looked upon the face of
my little Inez. Now I ask you to love
another. I have named her, J ael, after you.”
“I thank you for the token of friendship.
This proves that I have not been forgotten.”
They gazed in silence upon the beautiful
face of the infant. She seemed tranquil and
happy for a time-suddenly the red lips
trembled, the bosom heaved, and a glitter-
ing tear stole out beneath the dark lashes
that swept her marble cheek.
The heart of Joel was strongly moved as
she shed this. “ So young,” murmured she,
kissing it away as she spoke, “and yet grief
has come to thy heart. God help thee,
child! W'hat will the future bring thee ‘.7 ”
Olive grasped her hand with a sudden
impulse. The past has come back to us,"
said she fervently. “Jael is the child of
promiswin her we are each conscious of a.
new existence. She will be like us, Jael.
In her we will grow young again. Each
will have a daughter in her. She will learn
‘0 can ‘I3 both by the sweet name.-mother.”
“ N03 the past-that will not come back,”
said J ael, solemnly, “ but a better and holier
spirit stands beside us-the spirit of the un-
tried future. Let us meet it together, my
own dear friend.”
The two stood embracing. By the c,.;,d]c
and in our judgment, as a portraiture of deep, passion-
and belutlful diction, it has seldom been equaled by any
-1
of that childu new covenant was formed,
new vows exchanged, which Time, and
Change, and Death, have never broken.
Chnpter Fifteenth.
The heart, mcthinks.
Were of strange mould, which kept no ehex-isherl
print
Of earlier, happier times, when life was flush,
And love and innocence made bolldoy.
-Ilillimusr.
-how she lingered
0’er the words his hand had traced.
Though the plashing drops had fallen,
And the faint lines halfetihced.
Through her tears she gazed upon them-
For I message they would seem
Coming from the lips now silent,
Coming from 3 band now cold;
And she felt the some emotion,
They had thrilled her with of old.
-llfrs. .7. C.N:u1.
HE windows of the artist's studio were
all thrown open, and heavy steps re-
sounded through the rooms. The swarthy
Italians were removing pictures, ptatues, and
some choice articles of furniture, with a gou-
dola that was moored beside the steps. Joel
and Olive stood upon the portion, carrying
on a conversation interrupted by fits of
musing and snatches of song. Jael still
worc her disguise-it was necessary that
she should do so on this occasion. A Span-
ish cloak hung gracefully from her shoul-
der, and a slouched hat nearly concealed her
face, while 0live‘s countenance was entirely
hidden by the “ basquina. ” she wore. A
small secrelaire was placed carefully in the
gondola-then one of the men turned to-
wards Joel, and with a dotfed hat and a bow
of natural grace, awaited further orders.
“ Have you finished already? " said Joel.
“ Si, Senor. Everything is here.”
“ Then carry them to the villa of the
Count Peschiera. I have already paid you,
have I not 7 ”
“ Per Baccho!
too generous."
“ If that is the case, you may say a mass
when I am dead. There, now, be off.”
“ May the Virgin make that day for (lis-
tant,” was the respectful reply, as the two
gondoliers bent to their oars.
“What fine looking fellows these Italian
peasants generally are,” said Olive. “ lVatch
that one who spoke to you. See what an
eye-what pure features--and what a form!
The rogue knows he is handsome, I be-
lieve.”
“ Take care, Olive. The Count would be
quite jealous if he should hear your ruptures
over Pietro.”
“ He is not here. And you can under-
stand thatl look upon him as I would upon
a. beautiful picture. I love Italy bcctmsc
Il Senor has been only
everything here is graceful and refined."
“Even to the little beggar boy who he-
seiged you so unmercifully at the door of
the theatre last evening!” said Jacl, mis-
chievously.
“Pshaw! you must allow, Jael, that he
had remarkably beautiful eyes. And how
they lighted up when I gave him that little
coin! Poorfcllow! Doubtlesshc hall been
hungry many a day ! ”
“ Bless your kind heart, Olive. You cer-
tainly have not changed. Your heart is
warm and generous as ever. Do you know,
that little beggar boy brought back a painful
memory to my mind. Two years ago I was
in one of our largest cities-the emporium
of the United States. I had been to hear a
famous singer, and as I left. the hall, a pale,
dark-eyed little fellow stepped before me,
and held out his hand. He spoke no word,
but his silence was eloquent. I read his
poverty and his pride in that mournful
glance. I was about to give him the con-
tents of my purse, when I founrl that some
scoundrel had picked my pocket. ‘I am
very sorry,’ I began-then he spoke.
‘Kind sir,’ said be sadly, ‘I have never
begged before.’ He was about to continue,
when the sudden rush of the crowd behind
me bore me away, and I never saw him
again. But often, when I have been alone,
the pale, sad face, and the outstretched
hand, have come up before me, and I have
reproached myself that I letl: him so easily.
Who knows where that boy is now? He
may be a murderer-a robber-it may be
that one kind word from me, on that night,
might have saved him. Oh, Olive, how
many times we neglect to do good-how
many times we ‘ pass by on the other side,’
while no good Samaritan comes to the
“ So should I. Doubtless he will be is
great, 3 good man. According to the most
approved rules of romance, I should meet
him some years hcncc-he should rescue me
from some dangerous situation, and then re-
pay the favor I conferred on him by thlling
desperately in love with me. As it is, how-
ever, I shall probably never see him again.”
“ Jacl. how foolish these romance writers
are! IVhy need they invent strange and
improbable things when real life lies before
them. Every heart has a secret--every
soul has passed through wild and bitter
struggles. With more of the real, and less
of the ideal, we should all he better and
happier.”
“ I never read a romance, Olive, with any
degree of pleasure. At each incident, I say
to myself, ‘ my own life has known a stranger
one,’ and the book falls. I should like to
read one more novel with the heart I once
hard.”
“The heart which once firmly believed
in the existence of Alladin’s lamp-the
heart when Ali Babe. and his Forty 'l‘hicvos,
the heroic Morgiana and her jars of scalding
oil, were welcome and honored guc-sis ? ”
“Precisely. W'hat a pity that the un-
questioning faith of girlhood must leave us I
How I should like to read the romance of
my own life‘-not knowing it to be such. I
doubt if I could believe it, even now that I
have lived it out. A strange idea haunts
me, Olive. I sometimes wonder if anything
new can come to me. Can my future be
any wilder than the past has been ? ”
“ I hope not, Jael. I trust rest will come
to you soon, and never leave you."
“ You are unkind, Olive. Do you not
know that I cannot load a life of repose?
Action is as necessary to me as light, and
brother who dies, wearied and wounded by
the fierce struggle of life. The face of that
child will haunt me till I die.”
“ That. accounts, then, for the libcrality
you displayed towards our little friend last
night. I wonder if he ever saw so large a
sum before ? By the way, what was Dorn
saying the other evening about your meet-
ing with the little Savoyard ? ”
Jael blushed, as she always did when she
heard the beloved name, but answered
quietly,
“ It was simply one of my freaks a.tMilan.
In passing through a by-street we saw a lit-
tle Savoyard sleeping in a church porch,
with his hurdy-gurdy beside him, and his
dog at his feet. He looked timid and sad,
and as I drew nearer, I saw tears upon his
dark cheek. I made Dorn wait while I
took a. hasty sketch of the group, and then
leaning over him, I slipped a gold coin into
his hand. His dog sprung up, but instead
warmth, and air. Heaven save me from a.
tame, uneventful existence. I know it has
little of grief, but it has, also, little of happi-
ness. To those who suffer like me, joy
comes with a keen, clcctric shock-it daz-
zlcs and bewildcrs-it stuns and ovcrpowcrs
with an excess of bliss. ‘Vayward and cr-
ratic as is my nature, strange as must be my
life, I would not be other than I am. My
tears arc drops of molten lava; but my
smiles, when they come from my heart,
atone for them all. I live a. thorough, ear-
nest friend--therc is nothing negative about
me.”
“ I look at you in astonishment at. times,
Jael. You seem to me like a llash of heat
lightning.”
“ Better that, Olive, than the dull, heavy
thunder. My message is quickly spoken-
my life soon lived--and when I am gone,
all will remember my brilliancy. Olive, if
I am indeed to he a sacrifice, olfered up for
of barking at me, licked my -hand! The
poor brute must have had human intelli-
gence. The little fellow, awakened by my
touch, sat looking, first at me, and then at
the coin he held, in a state of happy bewil-
dermcnt. I kissed his forehead, patted the
head of his dog, and sprang away to over-
take Dorn. As I turned the corner-Ilooked
back. The child was kneeling, bare-headed,
in the moonbeams. thanking God for the
friend He had sent him. Nothing ever af-
fected me more. The pious gratitude of
that infant was so forcibly contrasted with
the callous indifl'n-rcncv of the world, that I
wept in very shame, and when I joined
Dorn I saw tears in his eyes, too. I have
the two pictures, which I painted after-
wards, with me.
when we reach home.”
I will show them to you i mcut like this repays me for all.
the good of others, my crucifixion shall he
onc which many will remember. They
shall speak of me reverently-hopefully.
Oh, it is not hard to die thus !"
Olive gazed upon her pityingly. “En-
thusiast! you look upon the bright side of
the picture, this ... rning-changeful and
impulsive that you are! How vividly you
bring back to mc my own youth, with its
high thoughts, and lofty ambition! Jacl, I
have not realized my dreams, yet I am hap-
py. May not disappointment bring cou-
tentment to you, also ? "
“I do not know,” replied the girl, breath-
lcssly. “ At this moment I should answer
‘ never!’ This is one of my bright. hours.
1 Olive. I have many sad ones ; but one mo-
Life looks
very beautiful to me, this morning. Sm-
“ I should likc to know the future oftlmt how the sunbeams fall upon the watt-r-V-lmu
child, Jzml."
; the gnnrlolas vlnnoe and glirlc nvcr tlw trun-