BIZ

cf which stood Rosalie with his happy rival: and he) heard the questions and responses whieh forge the, mystic chain that binds for life; and he saw the ring) put on, and heard the blessing which announces that the, nuptial sacrament is complete ! His hands were clench-, od: his cheek was ina flame; @ wish was raising in his throat ‘ Good news for you,’ said some one, clapping him on the back; ‘a letter from Rosalie lies for you at home. Why are you passing the house?’ "T'was his triend.

a A letter from Kosalie ! exclaimed Theodore. Quekly he retraced his steps, and there on his table lay, indeed, che dear missive of his Rosalie.

‘Welcome, sweet comforter!’ ejaculated Theodore, a3 he kissed the cyphers which his Rosalie’s hand-had iraced, and the wax which bore the impress of her seal — Welcome, O welcome! you come in time’; you bring an ample solace for disappeintmert, mortification, po verty—whatever my evil destiny can inflict. You may come to assure me that they cannot deprive me of my Rosalie !

Bright was his eye, and glistening while he spoke; hut when he opened the fair folds that coveyed to him the thoughts of his mistress, its radiancy was gone!

* THEODORE,

‘Tam aware of the frustration of your hopes; 1am convinced that at the end of a year you will not bea step nearer to fortune than you are now’ why then keep my hand for you? What I say briefly, you will inter- pret fully. You are now the guardian of my happiness —as such I address you. Thursday—so you consent —will be my wedding day.

*Rosauit.’

Such was the letter, upon the address and seal of which Theodore had imprinted a score of kisses before he opened. ‘Fortune is in the mood,’ said ‘I'treodore with a sigh, so deeply drawn, that any one who had heard it would have imagined he had breathed his spirit out along with it— Fortune is in the mood, and let her have her humour out. Y shail answer the letter; my reply shall convey to her desires—nothing more! she is incapable of entering into my feelings, and anworthy of Deing made acgnainted with them—TI shall not conde- acend even to complain.’

* Rosartre, ‘You are free! ‘ THEopore.’

Such was the answer which Theodore despatched to Rosalie. O the enviable restlessness of the mind upon the first shock of thwarted affection! How it turns every way for the solace which it feels it can no more meet with, except in the perfect extinction of conscious- ness. Find it ananodyne!—you cannet. A drug may close the eye for a time, but the soul will not sleep a wink ; it lies broad awake to agony distinct, palpable, icamediate ; howsoever memory may be cheated to lose for the present the traces of the cause. Then for the start, the spasm, the groan, which, while the body lies free, attests the presence and activity of the mental rack! Better walk than go to sleep!—A heath, without a soul but yourself upon it!—an ink-black sky, pouring down torrents-—wind, lightning, thunder, as though the vault \oove was crackling and disparting into fragments !-- any thing to mount above the pitch of your own solitude, and darkness, and tempest; and overcome them, or attract and divert your contemplation from them, or threaten every moment to put an end to them and you !

Theodore’s friend scarcely knew him the hext morning. ile glanced at him and took no further notice. ’T'was the best way, though people there are who imagine that 't rests with a man ina fever, at his own option te remain 12 it, or to become convalescent. |

‘Theodore’s feelings were more insupportable to him ‘ae second day than the first. He went here and there and everywhere; and nowhere could he remain for two minutes at atime at rest. Then he was so. abstracted. (-rossing a street, he was nearly run ever by a vehicle snd four. This for a moment awakened him. He saw !.ondon and B—— upon the panels ofthe coach. The’ vox Was empty—he asked if it was engaged, ‘ No,’ te sprung upon it, and away they drove. ‘ I'll see her once more, exclaimed Theodore, ‘it can but drive me mad or break my heart.’

Within a mile of B—— a splendid barouch passed ‘aem. ‘ Whose is that?’ inquiréd Theodore.

_* The young lord of the manor’s,’ answered the driver.

ind you see that lady in it?

‘ No.’

{ caughta glimpse of her dress,’ said the driver. ‘I'll warrant she’s a dashing one !—the young squire, they vay, has a capital taste.’ Theodore lovked after the carmage—there was nothing but the road. The vehicle drove ata rapid pace, and was soon out of sight. The- odore’s heart turned sick. __

The moment the cvach stopped he alighted ; and with a. mvSgiving mind he stood at the deor which had often admitted him to his Rosalie. *I'was opened by a do- jaestic whom he had never seen before. ‘Was Miss Wilford withia?? ‘No. ‘When would she return 2 ‘Nevers She had gone that morning to London to be marriedt? Theodore made no further inquiries, neither did he oifer to go, but stood glaring upon the man more

ike a spectre-than ahuman being. ‘ Any thing more 2” vaid the many retreating into the house, and gradually c.ostagy the door, through which now only a portion of ais fage could be seen. ‘Anything more?’ Theodore wade no reply; in fact he had Jost all consciousness.

THE EXAMINER.

eee

ee a a eee

At last, the shutting of the door, which half from panic, half from anger, the man pushed violently to, aroused him. ‘1 shall knock at you no more!’ said he, and departed, pressing his heart with his hand, and moving his limbs as if he cared not how, or whether they bore him. A gate suddenly stopped his progress, “twas the entrance to the green lane, He stepped over the style —he was on the spot where he had parted last from Rosalie—where she had flung her arms about his neck,

time since he had received her letter; a sense of suffo- cation came oyer hin, till he felt as if he would choke. The name of Rosalie was, on his tongue; twice he at- tempted to articulate it, but could not. At last it got vent in aconvulsive sob, which was followed by a torrent of tears. He threw himself upon the ground—he wept on—he made no effort tocheck the flood, but let it flow till forgetfulness stopped it. :

He rose with a sensation of intense cold.—’T was morning !—-he had slept! Would he had slept on. He turned from the sun, as it rose without a cloud, upon the wedding morning of Rosalie, “['was Thursday. He repassed the style and, in a few mimutes, was on his road to London, which he entered about ten o’clock at ‘night, and straight proceeded to his friend’s. They were gone to bed.

‘Give me a light,’ said Theodore, ‘1’ll go to bed.’

* Your bed is occupied, Sir,’ replied the servant.

‘Is it?’ said Theodore ; ‘ Well, I can sleep upon the carpet.’ He turned into the parler, drew a chair. towards the table, upon which the servant had placed a light, and sat down, All was quiet for a time—presently he heard a foot upon the stair; ’twas his friend’s, who was descending, and now entered the parlor.

‘f thought you were a-bed,’ said Theodore.

‘So I was,’ replied his friend, ‘ but hearing your voice in the hall, [ rose and eame down to you.” He drew a chair opposite to Theodore. Both were silent—at length Theodore spoke.

‘ Rosalie is married,’ said he.

*] don’t believe it.’

‘She is going to be married to the young lord of the manor.’

‘] don’t believe it.’

‘She come to town with him yesterday.’

* 1 don’t believe it.’

Theodore pushed back his chair, and stared at his friend.

‘What do you mean ”’ said Theodore.

‘I mean that I entertain some doubts as to the accu- racy of your grounds for concluding that Rosalie is in- constant to you.’

‘Did I not read the proof of it in the public papers ?’

‘ The statement may have been erroneous.’

* Did not her own letter assure me of it.’

* You may have misunderstood it.’

‘I tell you | have been at B 3 I have been at her house. I inquired for her, and was told she had gone up to London to be married! O my friend,’ continned he, covering his eyes with his handkerchief, ‘’tis useless to deceive yourself. I ama ruined man!—You see to what she has reduced me. I shall never be myself again. Myself! I tell you I existed in her being more than in my own, She was the soul of all I thought, and felt, and did; the primal, vivifying principle! She has mur- dered me! I breathe, it 1s true, and the blood is in my veins, and circulates; but everything else about me is death—hopes ! wishes !—interests!—there is no pulse, no respiration there! J should be sorry, were there none anywhere else! Feel my hand, added he, reacti- ing his hand across the table, without removing his handkerchief from his eyes; for the sense of his desola- tion had utterly unmanned him, and his tears continued to flow.--‘ Feel my hand. Does it not burn ? A hearty fever now would be a friend,’ continued he,‘ and I think I have done my best to merit a call from such a visitor. The whole of the night before last I slept out in the open air. Guess where I took my bed. In the green lane—tne spot where I parted last from Rosalie!” He felt a tear drop upon the hand which he had extended —the tear was followed by the pressure of a lip. He uncovered his eyes, and turning them in wonderment to Jook upon his friend—beheld Rosalie sitting opposite to him !

.. For a moment or two he questioned the evidence of

his senses—but soon was he convinced that it was indeed

reality ; for Rosalie, quitting her seat, approached him,

and breathing his name with an accent that infused

ecstacy into his soul, threw herself into his arms, that

doubtingly opened to receive her. *

* * Looking over her father’s papers, Rosalie had found a more recent will, in which her union with Theodore had been fully sanctioned, and he himself constituted her guardian until it should take place. She was aware that his success in London had been doubtful; the ge- nerous girl determined that he should no longer be subjected to, incertitude and disappointment; and she playfully wrote the letter which was a source of such distraction to her lover. _ From his answer she saw that he had totally misinterpreted her: she resolved in per- son to disabuse him of the error; and by offering to be- come his wife, at once to give him the most convincing prpot of her sincerity and constancy. She arrived in London the very day that Theodore arrived in B——. His friend, who had known her from infancy, received heras his daughter; and he and his wife listened with delight to the unfolding of her plang and intentions,

which she freely confided to them. Late they sat up for Theodore that night, and when al] hopes of his com- ing home were abandoned, Rosalie became the occupant of his bed. th The next night, ina state of the most distressing auxiety, in consequence of his continued absence, she had just retired to her apartment, when a knock at the street door made her bound from her couch, upon which she had at that moment thrown herself, and presently

and wept upon it. His heart began to melt for the first}she heard her lover’s voice at the foot of the stair.

Scarcely knowing what she did, she attired herself descended, and took the place of their friendly host, who, ‘the moment he saw her, beckoned her, and resigning his chair to her, withdrew.

The next evening a select party were assembled in the curate’s little drawing-room, and Theodore and Rosalie were there. The lady of the house motioned the latter to approach her; she rose and was crossing Theodore, when he caught her by the hand, and drew her upon his knee.

‘Theodore? exclaimed the fair one, coloring.

‘My Wife! was his reply, while he imprinted a kiss upon her lips. ;

They had been married that morning.

The News of the Week.

p Since our last Number another English Mail has beer received, by which we learn that fresh cause of excite- ment has been given to our fellow-subjects on the other _ side of the Atlantic—fresh work cut out for Her Ma- jesty’s Attorney General in Ireland--fresh inducement offered to Jury-packing, and fresh fuel heaped upon the fire of Agitation, which rages throughout Ireland—mak- ing the government of that unhappy country a real “difficulty” to Lord John Russell’s Ministry—a problera

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jin the sight of the world—and a real hardship, whether

it be just in its working or not, tothe people themselves. “The Nation,” “The Tribune,” “ The Felon”—all that portion of the Press in Ireland which inculcated physi- cal force doctrines, have at length aroused the hostility of Government, and their several Proprietors have beer constrained to put up with the cold comforts of Newgate, preparatory to their trial, and, no doubt, departure for Bermuda, or some other penal Colony. This bold step of the Government will doubtless give great rejoicing to the anti-Repeal Press, but the Government will sadly mistake, if they imagine it will quiet the agitation. “Felonious” writing may be checked—(and it was at best but very unwise to resort to that kind of writing when hard words could not be followed by hard blows) —but it would be preposterous to suppose that there will be less work—less open and secret organization. ‘There are seven millions of people in Ireland panting for Repeal --Lord Clarendon cannot suppose that the squirt with which he has put out the fire of the enthusiastic Con- federates of Dublin will be sufficient to quench their ardour, or to induce them to respect and cherish a Go- vernment which isevery day becoming more detestable to them.

ENGLAND.

The Parliamentary proceedings have not been of an important character. The Ministerial Sugar Resolu- tions have been adopted, and the new rates of duties are now payable.

It is stated that the government intend abandoning, for the present session, their measure on the Navigation Laws, and the bills relating to the light duties and the Merchant Seamen’s Fund. The amount of business to be transacted before the prorogation, in August, bas rendered this course necessary.

COMMERCIAL.

Considerable improvement has taken place in the ge- neral tone of commerce,

The weather has been particularly favourable for maturing the crops.

The condition of the manufacturing districts has very much improved.

The duty on wheat and flour remains at the maximurn rate of 10s. per quarter and 6s. per barrel, and these articles continue dull and about stationary in value.

IRELAND.

PROCEEDINGS AGAINST THE Press oF IRELAND.— The Jrish Government have taken another step, and that, too, of a character somewhat more vigorous than the fuimination of police notices, and dealing with in- Surrectionary movements as street nuisances. On» Saturday last John Martin, the editor of the Felon, anc Charles Gavan Duffy, the editor of the Nution, were arrested on a charge of felony, under the recent act.