in her manner, but unusually fascinating in ap. pearance. I thought, indeed, she was more the child of nature than I had ever seen her. She was affable and polite to all. I approached her, and asked several questions, to which she respectfully replied; but showed no disposition to prolong the conversation. At length there was a rap at the door, which occasioned some stir and excitement among the company. Violet herself left the room. Presently the door opened, and a gentleman entered, who was introduced as the Rev. Mr. F. - After being seated, he commenced talking with those around him. In a few moments Violet reappeared, leaning upon the arm of a tall and handsome youth. The thought flashed upon me that this might be the night of her nuptials. The blood shot like lightning through my veins, and my limbs seemed as marble. Violet stood up in her simple elegance and beauty-the admired of all who beheld her-and became, indeed, an envied bride. I remained the evening-assuming as much gayety as possible-but there was, nevertheless, an inward struggle of my feelings, over which it was long before I could obtain the mastery. Previous to my leaving the city, I called once more upon Violet; it was about two weeks after VOL. I.-K her marriage. My chief object was to ascertain the cause of her late conduct—not that it was any longer a matter of importance-but that I might add to my knowledge of female character and eccentricity. To my inquiries touching this subject she replied "As this may be our last interview, I shall speak without reserve. You say I am a trifler, and should not have encouraged your attentions while a visiter at Essex, knowing that I was betrothed. Your reproof is just; but we girls, you must know, are sometimes thoughtless, and fond of admiration. We love to be flattered-and when flattery proceeds from one who can confer distinction, we are willing to make almost any sacrifice for its continuance. The accident which led to our acquaintance, and the service which you rendered me upon that occasion, could not fail to produce an effect upon my girlish fancy; and I do not deny that I almost insensibly formed an attachment, for which I hourly reproved myself, without the power to break it wholly off. At length, however, there was a coldness in your manner-a haughtiness and reserve for which I could not account,-your visits, moreover, were less frequent, and with these things operating upon my pride, is it strange that I should have resolved to blot you for ever from my memory? Such, at least, was my determination; and you see how well I have succeeded." Violet paused. I arose somewhat abruptly to depart; but, as I was leaving the room, I turned once more to gaze upon her beautiful features. She stood before me in silence. There was an air of deep melancholy in her looks, blended with sorrow and reproof. Her lips moved not; but she seemed to say-"Why is it that you leave me thus ?" I reached out my hand; she received it in hers, and at that unguarded moment, when our disappointed loves were left to their own wild and thrilling impulses, I threw back the clustering curls from her fair forehead, and imprinted a passionate and burning kiss. Violet, conscious perhaps that she had suffered too great a liberty, withdrew from my embrace, and said in a sweet, plaintive, but resolute tone "Now, you must leave me-leave me forever! Go! I beseech you, go! You cannot, you must not remain longer. I have already been imprudent; I cannot now make any sacrifices for your sake. If you regard my happiness-go-go !" CHAPTER XI. Oh Love! of whom great Cæsar was the suitor, BYRON. Sir John Falstaff.-What made me love thee? Let that persuade thee, there's something extraordinary in thee. Merry Wives of Windsor. WHILE visiting at the house of Violet's uncle, I became acquainted with a Mrs. Fife. She was the wife of an honest silk-dier, and had the reputation of being less at home than abroad. It was generally conceded that she was one of the prettiest women in Essex. In size she was rather diminutive, but exquisitely proportioned. Her hands and feet were remarkably small; her ankle neat and well turned; her eye blue and languishing; and, when she smiled, there was a dimple in her cheek that might have captivated a stoic. This is no fiction! In company with Violet, I had frequently visited Mrs. Fife; I always found her kind and affectionate in disposition, always striving to render those about her cheerful and happy. As to myself, she used every effort to dispel the gloom which hung about me after Violet's marriage. Why are you so melancholy?" she would say. "There is more than one pair of bright eyes in the world let me tell you, there never was a garden with but a single flower: then be not so sad! Come, cheer up, cheer up! This will never doyou must not brood over your sorrows; you must laugh, and talk, and be merry: there is no other cure for love. You smile, eh? Fy upon you, Paul! Rouse up, rouse up, and forget your little disappointments." Thus it was that Mrs. Fife endeavoured to wean me from my despondency. At length, in contrasting her with Violet, I almost fancied that I had blindly mistaken the object of my adoration; that, in reality, it was Mrs. Fife, and not Violet, whom I had so deeply loved. It seemed, indeed, that I had been investing the one with the unequalled perfections of the other; and forthwith a new idol sprung up in my soul, demanding the same idolatrous worship. If I loved, however, it was not wholly without prudence and discretion; still, I did not reprove myself the less. But, alas! |