- se inact iE tote

i i ean le “ Ba a2 a € mc Bae

A A ENE Rei it wily. iia

THE EXABINER.

ce emanate TOLD ee ee

— Anygaayuaa

THE DREAM OF MY HEART.

—-o—

Oh! fair ie the day-dreams that dazzle the eye,

While the golden-winged moments glide merrily by :

And bright are the visions that wooingly dwell

In the bosom of youth like a love-breath- ing spell,

When the young epirit gladdens to dream of the fame

That chall herald his glory and blazen his nae ;

But fairer,aad brighter, and dearer to me Is the dream of my heart, love, that lin- gers with thee.

Oh ! sweet is the summer, and mirthful

and glad,

When Nature in garments of beauty is clad ;

When the rosy-winged morning eclipses, in light

The stars that have shone in the canopied night ;

But sweeter far is the beauty that lies

Embalmed in che light of thine eloquent eyes,

Those eyes of affection are dear unte me

As the dream of my heart, love, that lin- gers with thee.

The breath of the soft winds that mar- mar alung

[s laden with whispers of love and of song,

And the voice of the waters that dance ia the moon

With its music awakens a fairy-like tune.

There are sourds of delight inthe wan- dering breeze,

And cadences sweet on the slumbering seas:

Rut sweeter thine accents and dearer

unto me

Is the dream of my heart, love, that lin- gore with thee.

Thy words are ail chaste as the voice of the streams,

And thy thoughts areas pure as an angel's bright dreams ;

And the tender emotions that dwell in thy breast .

Allfiow from a bosom with innocence blest.

Thy heart ie the shrine of a kind, trusting love,

Oh! thouga art the treasure that’s denr- est to me,

And the dream of my heart, Jove, still tin- gers with thee.

The wanderer, away ona far foreign strand,

With a langing heart dreams of his dear native land;

And the mariner sighs as he rides o’er the foain

For the fond wnes he loves in his far dis- tant home ;

But Hope, like a star, lights the gloom of his breast,

And the feelings are hushed into soft panguil rest; '

And Hope, the bright seraph, smiles sweetly of me,

While the dream of my heart, love, is lin- gering with thee.

nnd

Kate Gower.

My darling Kate, do not look so sad; afier all, |] have nodeubt you will be very happy, and a fortnight or so after you are married 1 shall hear you say there was mever in the world half so nice a man and sv good a husband as George Mel- ville.

Oh, Ewily, Emily, [ cannot think so; the very sound of his name makes me shudder! was the passionate renly to Miss W oodford’s words of encouragement ; and the speaker burried her face in the bosom of her friend, and burst into tears.

My dear girl, this will never do; it is now too late, if you repent your determi- nation, te break off your engagement with Mr. Melville. Do you regret what you have done?

I should do it again under the same circuinstances, anewered Kare Gower, after a moment’s pause.

71

And you would be right. Indeed, Kate, continued Miss Woodford, we have advised you forthe best. Love is not necessary for happiness; and the calm regaré and friendship you feel for Mr. Melville (for you have only fancied you dislike him since he has appeared in the character of a suitor, while before you were really attached to him,) wiil prove a far more durable means of happiness, than that passionate affection which girls fancy a necessary feeling towards their future husband. Yes, my dear girl, 1 am quite sure you will never repent it if you tmar- ry hin.

But you know—you know I love ano- ther, murmured Kate, in a voice almost inaudible through her tears.

You believe, and fancy you do; but how do you know he sti!l cares for you? You are throwing away, are wasting your affections on one unwerthy of them, said | Emily Woodford. If he loved you, do you suppose he would have allowed so long a time to elapse without seeing you, and secking some explanation? Instead of which, he appears to have purposely avoided you: does such conduct be- token love ?

Oh, Emily, you are teo eruel!

I seem so, dearest; but ask yourself seriously iff am not right. Taink of your mother, Kate; of your brothers and sisters, poor children! whose fate depends so much on your conduct—remember—

I know all—I think of itall—I remem- ber all, interrupted the unhappy girl; if I did not, think you 1 could consent to become the wife of one I detest? Do you think if my mother, my gentle, euf- fering,idolized mother, kad net with tears in her eyes implored me to accept Mel- ville’s hand, and had not even owned she believed it would prolong hee life were I to do so, think you [ ever,ever could have so bnaretek myself as to bind my- self to one maa, while my very pulse is throbbing with wild passionate love for another? Could I, continued Kate, with increasing velemence—could 1, when the images of my mother and her little children were conjured up before my eyes, in poverty and dependence—could I refuse to assist them, to render them happy, to give them a home, when it was in my power todv so—could {, Emily ? Alas!alas! no. But I deserve it all, she passionately exclaimed; | deserve it all! Ob, [ am rightly punished! I was proud, | was wayward, [| wanted to bring him to my feet; I wanted to show it was a fa- vour to be loved by me; and he, too, was proud, and left me, and we have never met since! Oh, Emily, Emily, God help me ! and Kate ceased speaking, exbaust- ed by the violence of her emotions. ard began hurriedly to pace the little draw- ing room. Miss Woodford was thorough- ly perplexed; she knew not what to say to her friend, whose unusual excitement almast terrified her. It was too late, she réflected,to break off her engagement,be- sides, the thought of Kate’s invalid mo- ther flashed across her mind, and she knew such a suddea, disappoiutment would most likely be a death blow; but yet, surely it was not right that Kute Gower should he allowed to contract a marriage evidently so abhorrent to her feelings. Poor Emily! she was sadly puzzled; and as she thought of her own happy engagement and handsome lover, she sighed deeply. She could not, how- ever, decide on any plan of conduct, and resolved at last, to let matters take their own course. It wasa passivenesa she bitterly repented when it was too late.

Mrs. Gower was the widow of a major in the army, who had died, leaving her with four children and heavy debts, two years befure the opening of this narrative. lt wasa hard struggle for five human creatures, of refined tastes and habits. to ' live upon the scanty pitance allowed them by government ; so no wonder that when George Melville, young, rich, and good looking, fell in love with and proposed to her eldest and favourite, Ka‘e, the wid- ow, unaware of her previous attachinent, urged and entreated her to accept hie proffered hand. We have seen from the conversation recorded above, that Kate, moved by the tears of a mother she dear- by loved, andfa wars of the immense adi an tage which would secure to her fami y by her marriage (for Mr. Melville had

4

promised to provide them with a heme.)

consented, and a few days only were now wanting to that fixed for the wedding.

Alas fur a woman who marries a man she cannot love! and doubly alas for her whose affections are already bestowed on another! Oh, mothers, loving and kind and unselfish, and affectionate, though ye may be,beware lest for the fancied advan- tage of your children you sacrifice their every chance of happiness. The hus- band may be kind, and generous, and loving, aud constant; but if the wife love him not, how, how can she be happy ? And it is on her whole life that the deep gloom of despair will be cast; not for days nor weeke, nor months: nor even years, but for ever—for her whole life, with no hope for relief but in the grave; and her one despairing cry will be ever ascending to heaven--“ Let me -die, Lord! let me die! I only ask for death!” Poor sad one, God help thee!

Kate Gowers wedding-day had arrived, and never had she looked so beautiful. A strange light burnt in her dark bril- liant eyes and a. bright flush on her cheek deceived the numerous spectators into 8 belief that she was marvellously happy. Mra. Gower’s heart dilated with joy as she gazedon her lovely daughter, who, with the bridal wreath on her brow and the lace veil falling on the ground around her, knelt at the altar and pronouncad her inarriage vow, to “ love, honour and obey” her husband. What mockery! what hol- lowness! Pooranhappy Kate! But so well did she sustain the part she had im- posed on herself,that not even her brides- maid, Emily Woodford, far less did her happy mother, suspect for one moment the fearful sacrifice she was making. She was so perfectly calm, even smiling, that timily believed her quite reconciled to her fate; and many would have laughed at the idea of its being otherwise. What! with a handsome, doting, fine-tempered husband, not happy? ‘Why, what would the girl have?—aye what indeed? = *

* * * * * *

Four months had passed away since Kate Gower had become Kate Meiville, and still her husbaud loved her with al- inost the passionate ardour of leis firstdevo- tion. ‘T'rue, the thought sometimes flash- ed across his mind that the feeling was not reciprocal, that Kate even shrunk from his caresses, but he soon persuaded himself, that to anatural quietness of matter must be attributed her apparent coldness, and fortunately he had never known her otherwise, for their acquaint- ance had commenced but a few months after her father’s death, when the irrepar- able lose of a kind and indulgeut parent had subsided, for the time, every trace of her natural gaiety and sparkling spirits, no marvel thatthey did not return, and that to Melville she had even appeared both unremonstrative and reserved. We will not stay to tell how different she had veen, when overflowing with the happi- ness of loving and being loved, every flower in the field, every starin the sky, every action in the day, had been a source of heartfelt joy and pure, simple mirth,

Vivian Howick and Kate had met in Malta, while her father’s regiment was stationed there, and svon, a congeniality of tastes and similarity of feelings had taught the young people first friendship, then love. ‘The day before that on which Vivian had decided to ask Major Gower'’s approbation of their engagement, a fool- ish misunderstanding arose between the lovers, and Kate, indignant at being for once suspected of levity, exclaimed, in answer to some gentle reproach from Vi» vian, Mr. Howick, you are assuming a husband’s authority too soon. [ have no wish to lose my liberty at sixteen, and if you connot trust me, if you have no faith in me, let us part—it will be better—Jet us part! Before she could retract her words she was alone, Vivian had sprung up, passed through the open French win- dow, and was gone. Poor Kate! she had never seen him since, and yet al- most before the words had passed her lips she bitterly repented them, A few days after, she heard that Mr. Howick had left for England,and soon her father’s regiment was also summoned there pre- vious to embarking for India,

M:jor Gower died a fortnight after ther arrival in London, and since then Kate had never even heard of the name of Vivian Hovick mentioned. How ef

ee Ne eS eS RO en

ten it hung upon her lips, and how often it brought a passionate flood of agonizing tears to her eyes, we care not now io tell; there are some feelings in a wo- man’s heart that should be sacred even tosympathy. Vivian Howick stayed but a few weeks in England, when, having obtained an appointiwent a8 secretary to

the embassy, he set out for s + * 2 *

Kate dearest, it is ten o’clock, had you not better begin to dress?

Certainly, if you wish it? and Melville was left alone in the large dining room of his mansion in Grosvenor Square. Halfan hour had passed when Kate rejoined her husband. Ske was looking very lovely, and he could not resist pressing her to bis heart, as he murmured some lover.like compliments to her surpassing beaaty, and then, for the first time, be marked her expression of shrinking scorn, a8 even the faint colour that usually tinged her cheek fled from her face, and a feeling o* distrust and disappointment, almost of anger, arose in his heart. He hastily withdrew his arm, and, opening the door of the apartment, motioned her forward. In another moment they were in the car- riage, on the way to Lady’s._— ’ A murmur of admiration arose from the group hanging about the entrance of the ball-room as Kate entered, leaning on the arm of her husband; a smile had rarely dweit on her lips since her marriage, but her classical beauty had perhaps rather gained than lost by its additional severity: and the pure simplicity of her white drese, and the large lilies in her dark hair were well chesen to show off to the most re- markable advantage the singular beauty of her face and form. Bat Meiville, usually so proud of the adiniration she excited, was this evening gloomy and ir-

ritable; and though he authoritatively in-

sisted on her dancing, he watched her throughout with an earnest atteution, which too plainly showed how the trust he had felt ic her had vanished from his heart.

What do you think of Mise D’Arey, it ia her first appearance this season? said Lord Fitz Mordant to Kate, during the pauses of a quadrille.

Which do you mean—where is she ? enquired Kate.

The girl in blue, sitting near the door —there aow she ‘is standing up—do you see ? Is she not pretty? But good her- vens! Mrs. Melville, what ie the matter ? exclaimed Fitz Mordant, as Kate’s eye, following his directions glanced first on Miss D’Arcy, and then rested on an ele- gant man leaning against the wal! near her. Are youill? gontinued he; allow me to find you a seat,an ice? and the good-natured young man, really alarmed by her fearful paleness and convulsive respiration, elbowed his way through the crowd, and repeating a thousand offere of assistance, conducted her to the coneer- vatory, where Kate, sinking into a chair, and striving vainly to thank him, at last motioned him away. Wath true delicacy of feeling, the young viscount obeyed the gesture and left her alone.

With her two hands pressed sgainet her throbbing forehead, Kate tried to calm herself, but the task was impossible, and she fell back powerless and almost senseless in her chair. It was, indeed, Vivian Howick she had seen—Vivian, whom she still loved wildly, devotedly, and now, God help her! criminally. x + > * » & > And the sound of the music in the ball room came faintly on her ear, aud, oh, how it jirred onher strained feelings ! Poor, poor Kate!

Many minutes passed thus, and Kate was still leaning back im her chair, her face hidden in her hands, when a footstep. close toher made her glance up. ‘In another moment, acting on a passionate impulse, she flung herself towards Vivian who was passing before her, and with a low cry burst into teers.

Kate, Kate! and he guided her to a sofa, where she sat, sobbing as her heart would break, and he bending dowa to her with an expressiun of love, and pity, and stern heart-rendering grief !

Oh, Vivian? Vivian ? do epeak to me, do have merey on me, do forgive we > Uh, Vivian!

Kate, he whispered, I forgive all, but oh, you have breken two hearts, you hare