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LOVE AND AUTHORSHIP.

RY J. SHERIDAN KNOWLES.

‘Will you remember me, Rosalie

‘Yes!’

Will you keep your hand for me a year”

‘Yea?

‘Will you answer me when I write to you?

‘Yes!

‘One question more—O, Rosalie, reflect that my life depends upon your acquiescence-—should | succeed, will you marry me in spite of your uncle ?”

‘Yea! answered Rosalie. There was no pause— reply followed question, as if it were a dialogue which they had got by heart~and by heard indeed they had got it—but I leave you to guess the book they had con- ae it from, sia

was ina n lane, on a summer’s evening, about nine o'clock, i the” west, like a gate of gold, had shut upon the retiring san, that Rosalie and her lover, hand in hand, walked up and down, His arm was the girdle of her waist; hers formed a collar for his neck, which a knight of the garter—aye, the owner of the sword that dubbed him—might have been proud to wear. Their gait was slow, and face turned to face ; near were their lips while they spoke, and much of what they said never came to the ear, though their souls caupit up every word of it.

Rosalie was upwards of five years the junior of her lover, She had known him since she was a little girl in her twelfth year. He was almost cighteen then, and when she thought far more about a doll than a husband, he would set her upon his knee, and call her his little wife, One, two, three years passed on, and still when- ever he came from eollege, and as usual went to pay

his first visit at her father’s, before he had been five|fiower was not deeper than that of her cheek, as she| ‘ Not yet,’ repli

minutes in the parlor, the door was flung open, and in bounded Rosolie, and claimed her accustomed seat. The fact was, till she was fifteen, she was a child of a very slow growth, and looked the girl when many a companion of hers of the same age had begun to appear the woman,

When another vacation, however, came round, and Theodore paid his customary call, and was expecting his little wife, as nsual, the door opened slowly, and a tall young lady entered, and cartseying, colored, and walked to a seat next the lady of the house. The visitor stood up and bowed, and sat down again, without knowing’ that it was Rosalie.

‘ Don’t you know Rosalie? exclaimed her father. |

*‘ Rosalie ? replied Theodore, in an accent of surprise; | nnd approached his little wife of old, who rose and gave nim ker hand, and curtseying, colored again; and sat| down again without having interchanged a word with| him, No wonder—she was four inches taller than when he had last seen her, and her bulk had expanded cor- responding!y; while her features, that half a year before | gave one the idea of a sylph that wou!d bound after a) butterfly, had now mellowed in their expression, into) the sentinrent, the softness, and the reserve of the wo- man. Theodore felt absolutely disappointed. Five minutes! before, he was all volubility. No sooner wag one! question answered than he proposed another~and he|

had so many capital stories for Rosalie, when she came)

down—and yet, when Rosalie did come down, he sat as’

though he had sot a word to say for himself. In short, | every thimg and every body in the house seemed to have | changed along with its young mistress; he felt no| jonger at home in it, as he was wont; and in Jess then

a quarter of an hour he made his bow and departed.

‘confidence, the —— of familiarity—the penalty| one day indeed become his wife, now occurred to y

metamorphosed Rosalie.

THE EXAMINER.

frankness of girlhood would vanish, as soon as the;we have. She was convinced that all his fine spirits diffidence of young wamanhood began its blushing! were forced—that he was acting a part. She leainans

‘jreign—the thought never occurred to him that the day|that while he appeared to be occupied with eve body

would come when Rosalie would scruple to sit on his| but Rosalie—Rosalie was the only body that was runn

knee—ay, even though Rosalie should then begin to!ing im his thoughts. She saw him withdraw : = think upon him, as for many a year before he had thought TT she followed him—found him sitting down S e upon her. He returned from college the fifth time—he|a book im his hand—perceived, from hi manner oft ~ found that the woman, which he imagined in a year or) ing over the leaves, that he was intent on anythin ye two she would become, was surprised by the woman|reading. She was satisfied that he was thinkin 7 that she already was; he remarked the withdrawal of| nothing but Rosalie. The thought that Rosalie os “ which he must inevitably pay for her maturing—and he/for the thousandth time, anda thousand times stron . felt repelled and chilled, and utterly disheartened hy it.|than ever—a spirit diffused itself through her hon

For a whole week he never returned to the house.|which had never been breathed into it before ; and filline Three days of a second week elapsed, and still he kept! it with hope and happiness, and unutterable contene away. He had been invited, however, to a ball, which) ment, or drew it towards him. She eines was to be given there the day following; and, much as|him, accosted him, and ina moment was seated with he was inclined to absent himself, being a little morejhim, hand in hand,.pon the sofa! ail inclined to go—he went. As soon as the dance was done—‘ Rosalie” sai;

Hull three ‘hours was he in the room without once! Theodore, ‘’tis almost as warm inthe ait as in Re room setting his eyes upon Rosalie. He saw her mothet and will you be afraid to take a turn with me in the ° her father, and talked with them; he saw squire this,) ‘1 will get my shaw] in a minute, said Rosalie, ‘ang and doctor that, and attorney such-a-one, had fifty; meet you there ;’ and the maiden was there almost a things to say to each of them? he had eyes and tongue) soon as he. for every one but Rosalie—not a look, or a word did he| They proceeded, arm-in-arm, to the farthest part of exchange with her; yet he was here and there and|the garden; and they walked up and down Without everywhere ! In short, he was all communicativeness| either seeming inclined to speak, as though their hearts and vivacity, so that every one remarked how bright he! could discourse through their hands, which were locked lad become since his last visit to college. in one another.

At last, however, his fine spirits all at once seemed to) ‘Rosalie! at last breathed Theodore. ‘ Rosalie? forsake him, and he withdrew to the library, which was breathed hea second time, before the ex ting girl lighted up for the occasion as an anti-room, and taking ,could summon courage to say ‘Well? < cannot go a volume out of the ,book-case, he threw himself into a|home to-night,’ resumed he, “without speaking to you,’ chair and begun to turn over the leaves. Yet Theodore seemed to be in no hurry to speak, for

‘Have you forgotten your little wife? said a soft) there he stopped, and. continued silent so long, that voice near him—'twas Rosalie’s—‘if you have,’ she | Rosalie began to doubt whether he would open his lips added, as he started from his seat, ‘she has not forgotten again.

you. ‘Had we not better go in? said Rosalie, ‘{ think | |

She wore a carnation in her hair—the hue of the|heat them hpoaking up. ed Theodore. stood and extended her hands to Theodore, who, at the) ‘Nay,’ resumed the maid, ‘we have remained long moment he rose, had held forth both of his. enough, and at Jeast allow me to go in. ‘Rosalie!’ ‘Stop but another minute, dear Rosalie!’ impleringly ‘Theodore? He fed her to a sofa, which stood in a/exclaimed the youth. : recess on the opposite side of the rvom, and for five) ‘ For what’ was the maid’s reply. minutes not another word was spoken. At length she) ‘Rosalie,’ without a pause resumed Theodore, ‘you gently withdrew her hand from his—she had suffered|used to sit upon my knee, and let me call you wife. him to hold it all that time—* We shall be observed,’| Are those times passed fer ever? Dear Rosalie!—will said she. you never let me take you on my knee and call you wife ‘ Ah, Rosalie,’ replied he, ‘nine months since you sat| again ?’ upon my knee, and they observed us, yet you did not) ‘When we have done with our girlhood, we have done mind %t ‘with our plays,’ said Rosalie. ‘You know 1 ama woman now,’ rejoined Rosalie,| ‘1 donot mean in play, dear Rosalie,’ cried Theodore.

hanging her head, ‘and—and—will you lead off the |‘ It is not playing at man and wife to walk, as such, out

mext dance with me? cried she, suddenly changing the of church. Will you marry me, Rosalie 2” ‘subject. ‘There now; Ihave asked you, added she,! Rosalie was silent.

‘which is more than you deserve? Of course Theo-| ‘Will you marry me” repeated he. dore was not at all happy to accept the challenge ofthe) Not a word would Rosalie speak. ‘ Hear me” cried Theodore. ‘ The first day, Rosalie, One might suppose that the young lady’s heart was T'took you ton my knee, and celled you my wife, jest interested, and that Theodore was a far happier man as it seemed'p be, my heart was never more in earnest, than he imagined himself to be. The fact was neither That day I vedded you in my soul; for though you more nor less. Little Rosalie was proud of being called | were achild, bsaw the future woman in you, rich im the Theodore’s wife, because she heard every body else richest attractons of your sex. Nay, do me justice; speak in praise of him. Many a marriageable young | recall what youyourself have tnown of me--inquire o! lady had she heard declare—not mindful to speak be-|others. To whan did I play the suitor from that day ? fore a child—that Theodore was the finest young man; To none but youalthough to youl did not seew to play in B——; that she hoped ‘Theodore would be at snch/it. Rosalie! was] not always with you? Recollec: or such a house wkere she was going to dine, or spend, now. Did aday pss, when fon at home, without my the evening: nev, that she would like to have a Sweet-| coming to your faher’s house? When ‘thiebs were heart like Theodore. Then would Rosalie interpose,' parties there, whomid J sit beside but you? Whom and with a saucy toss ef her heac exclaim, that nobody did I stand behind & the piano forte, but you? Nay should have Theodore bet Rosalie, for Rosalie was his|for.a whole night, whm have I danced with but you ’ little wife. *Twasethus she learned to admire the face, Whatever you might hye thought Bren, can wail Slows and person of Theodore, who more than once paid for moto, that it was nrerelya playful child that could have

\her acquired estimation of them; for sometimes before | so-engrossed me?—No, Rosalie! it was the generous

: Now ne ae exceedingly strange; for Rosalie, from ja whole roem full of company she would march up to lovely, loving woman, tht J saw in the playful child.— & pretty litde girl, hadturned into a lovely young Wo-'him, and scanning him from head to foot, with folded| Rosalie! for five years hye I Joved you, tho’ [ never

man. Sfa heart looked out of hor eyes before, a soul

‘ooked eut of them now; her arm, which formerly the! somest young man im B

sun had been allowed to salute when he liked, and which used to bear the trace of many a kiss that he had given it, now shone white through a sleeve of muslin, uke snow behind a veil of haze; her bosom had en-

larged its wavy curve, and leaving her waist little more!

‘han the span it used to be, sat down proudly heaving above it; andthe rest of her form which, only six months go, looked trim and airy in her short and close-fitting frock, now jdengthening and throwing out its flowing ine, stood stately in the folds ef a long and ample

arms, at length declare aloud, that he was the hand- declared it to you till now. Do you think I am worthy

Then Theodore was sof you? Will you give gurself te me? Wil you \kind to her, and theaght so much of any thing she did,! marry me? Will you sit Yon my knee again, and let and took such notice of her! Often, ata dance, heme call you wife ?’ ys ' i would make her his partner for the whole evening; and} Three or four times Rosaliimade an effort to speak : there was Miss Willoughby, perhaps, or Miss Miller,|but desisted, as if she knew nm what to say, or Was ue-

isitting down, either of whom would have given her eyes able to say what she wished ; "heodore stil] holding her (to stand ‘up if only in a reel with Theodore. shand. At last,‘ Ask my father’s gnsent she exelaimec. | But when the summer of her seventeenth year belreld;and tried to get away; but befee she could effect it. ther bursting into womanhood; when her expanding she was clasped to the bosom of ‘heodore, nor released

\thoughts, from a bounding, fitful, rill-like current, began until the interchange of the first Pidge of love had beer: ‘to runa deep, a broad and steady stream; when she forced from her bashful lips—Shigid not appear that

] , y P4 _. ~ r ln . ' le 2 . * e crapery, Yet could not all this make up for the want of found that she was almost arrived atthe threshold of ‘night in the drawing-room again.

the little wife that used to come and take her seat upon lheodore’s knee.

To be sure there was another way of accounting for

the young man’s chagrin, He might have been disap-|

pointed that Rosalie, when five feet four, should be a iutle more reserved than whenshe was five feet nothing. Romantic young men, too, are apt to fancy odd things. ‘Theodore was a very romantic young man; and having, perhaps, traced for himself the woman in the child—as one Will enticipate,in locking ata peach that is just knit, the hue, and form, and favor of the consummate fruit~he might have set Rosalie down in his mind as his wife in earnest, when he appeared ta cabl her so.only in jest.

the world, and reflected that the step which marks aj Theodore’s addresses were sanctiged by the parents female’s first entrance into it is generally taken in the of Resalie. The wedding day was fed; it wanted but ‘hand of a partner—the thought of who that partner |a fortnight to it, when a malignant fer made its ap- inight be, recalled Theodore to her mind—and her heart! pearance in the town; Rosalie’s pares were the first fiuttered as she asked herself the question—should she victims. She was left an orphan at e:hteen, and her ever be indeed his wife ? uncle, by her mother’s side, who had xen nominated When, this time, he paid his first visit, Rosalie wes as her guardian in a will, made several yeis paying fel- much mortified as he was. Her vexation was increased |lowed his brother-in-law and sister’s raging to the when she saw that he absented himself; she resolved, if grave, took up his residence at B—~. possible, to ascertain the cause, and persuaded her! Rosalie’s sole consolation now was Sth as ghe re- mother to give a ball, and especially invite the young/teived from the society of Theodore; bi Taeodore gentleman, [le came; she watched him; observed that,soon wanted -consolatien himself.—-His ather wae he neither inquired after her nor sought for her; and {attacked by the fever and died, leaving his Aijrs, to the marked the excellent terms that le was upon with! astonishment of every one, in a state of the get jneg-

Such was the ease, Theodore never calculated that| twenty people, about whom she knew him to be per-'tricable embarrassment; for he had been long upon Rosilie knew nothing ahout his dreams—that she had fectly indifferent. Women have the perception of the!as one of the wealthiest inhabitants of Bae, Tie workings of the hear far mere guick aad “subtie than, was a doable Liew to Theedore, but he wesa awon

Go gach visions herself; he never anticipated that she

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