_ coquetting gracefully with the green vines without as it swept

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POLITICS, LITERATURE AND NEWS.

Lier.

at a Re - SS Se | ne

_A WEEKLY JOURNAL OF

TOR axp PUBLISHER.

EDWARD WHELAN] Chis is true Liberty, when Free-born Men, having to advise the Public, man speak free —-EvRrPIDgs. [EDI — SN A AT AS Vou. VIL. CHARLOTTETOWN, PRINCE EDWARD ISLAND, MONDAY, AUGUST 17, 1857.

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Literature even her more subdued charms, came to think more lightly | who swelled the list of her admirers, and so added to her |to her lips, would she turn the prompted endearment to some . of herself than the truth warranted ; and it was with interest, | ecla¢, was sure of a favorable reception from the thoughtless indifferent remark. seldom mingled with envy or regret, that she watched the | beauty. Warm and impulsive, Marston grew anxious and sad at

DIFFERENCES. | growing loveliness of the black-eyed gipsy, her youngest

BY CHARDES MACKAY,

The King can drink the best of wine— Se can I; And has enough when he would dine— So have I; And cannot order Rain or Shine— Nor ean I. Then where’s the difference—let mo see— Betwixt my Lord the King and me?

Do trusty friends surround his throne Night and day ?

Or make his interest their own? No not they.

Mine love me for myself alone— Bless’d be they !

And that’s one difference which I see

Betwixt my Lord the King and me.

Do knaves around me lie in wait To deceive ? Or fawn and flatter when they hate, And would grieve ? Or cruel pomps oppress my state,— my leave? No! Heaven be thanked! And here you see More difference “twixt the King and me!

He has his fools, with jests and quibs, When he'd play ; He has his armies and his ships—

ape are they ;

But not & child to kiss his lips, Well-a-day !

And that’s a difference sad to see

Betwixt my Lord the King and me.

I wear the cap and he the crown— What of that?

1 sleep on straw and he on down— What of that?

And he’s the King and I’m the clown— What of that?

If happy I, and wretched he,

. Perhaps the King would change with me.

sister, Jessie. How often she rejoiced that she would realize their mother’s hopes, and be spared the mortification of neglect, or that still more galling patronage in the gay world where her lot was cast.

Thus, then, she had reached the age of twenty, with a heart overflowing with kindliness, which the diffidence arising from the humble opinion she entertained of herself’ held under continual restraint, earning for her the name of being cold and even proud, shrinking from attention which her sensitiveness construed into mercenariness, or worse, com- passion. Misunderstood by all around her, and met at every turn by that many meaning monosyllable “ odd,” is it strange she should “care little for society,” and find her greatest pleasure in being alone ?

With all this, Bella was not unhappy; the calm, domestic duties that fell so naturally and so readily to her charge gave her healthful occupation; and these, with many a self- imposed task of kindness or benevolence, and an earnest love of books, afforded her ample amusement. With a quict self- possession arising from her very humility, she glided through the house, and ty and order breathed around her ; till her family scard@fy suspected how much comfort they owed her noiseless presence, for it was “ only Bella,” and all she did was so kindly and willingly done, that they had come to expect, but completely lost sight of the cause.

As the dusk deepened, the party who had strolled out upon |-

the terr.ce returned to tea; and Sir Perey Marston was struck with the pleasing gentleness and all-pervading grace of Miss Reade, till with some embarrassment,-but so covered by her reserve as to give a haughty expression to her calm | face, Bella once or twice encountered his dark eyes fixed | upon her. -

Sir Percy Marston's charactor might be read in his! countenance. He was an intelligent, honorable, high-minded young man, and frank and open as the day. He could ill | comprehend the heart that folded its true life with its secret | care, while that written on the features gave no indication’ of the current that flowed with ceaseless tide beneath.

He could sce no evidence of “oddity” in Bella; and he felt as if there were some mystery about her which awakened | his interest. That she was plain he could not admit, for as'| he turned from the vivacious Jessie, now in full tide of |

|

But how was it with Bella? That was the question Marston , the strange disposition of his wife. True, she was ever kind, would fain have solved ; but calm and impenetrable as ever, | gentle and thoughtful for his comfort and welfare; but he her face betrayed no more than quiet indifference, meeting his missed the return for his expressions of affection, and felt attentions with « reserve graceful and amiable, but utterly in-| repelled by her perfect impassibility when his heart yearned surmountable. He was in despair. Her retiring manners | most towards her, gave him no opportunity of “ drawing her out ;” and he was} At length a terrible idea took possession of him ; Bella often obliged to play the agreeable to his other fair enter- | had never loved him, she had wedded him to please her father, tainers, when a powerful effort alone enabled him to pay and he had deceived himself by her ready acquiescence ! proper attention to their charming conversation, so engrossed | Day and night the thought haunted him, and he became more was he with the study of the graceful enigma who had | sad and unhappy as he became more strongly convinced of it.

strongly interested him.

Could he have read her heart as it is our magic privilege to do, he would have known that when coldest her “ outward | seeming,” the fire burned hottest within—that when the pris- | oner gave symptoms of increasing strength, the fortress was reinforced and new guards set. Could he have seen the wild throb that sent the blood tingling to her cheek, and the fire flashing to her eye, as the firm step she had soon learned to know was heard approaching, he might have learned her weil-watched secret : but when the step reached the drawing- room, all was cold and calm again,

Sometimes he would grow angry with himself for fecling

an interest in one who cared not for him, and whose coldness no attentions would melt. Then for a week or so he would omit his visits; but an undefined longing sent him back, to find no change in Bella, The winter season came. The Reades returned to their town mansion in Grosvenor Square. Sir Percy Marston (also a member of Parliament) returned likewise to the metropolis; and the more he saw of Bella, the deeper became the fascination ; he could not free himself from the enthral- ment, though the result seemed to promise nothing but disappointment.

Once, as he caught her glance fixed full upon him, the truant blood rushed: to her cheek and brow, and her voice faltered fora moment, making his neart beat wildly with hope; but an instant and all was calm again, the broken sentence completed with easy grace, and disappointment tcok again her place in her old throne,

Driven to desperation, he determined to learn his fate at once; but he,could pot endure that miid, blue eye to look upon the tumult hé felt throbbing within him should the answer be adverse, as he believed it would. Soto Mr. Reade

ONLY BELLA; OR, THE MINIATURE. | sparkling dadinage with Gerald Ashton, the other visitor, to ‘alone could he apply to aid him.

BY BESSIE BEECHWOOD.

It was a bright summer afternoon, and the long French windows of Mrs. Reade’s beautiful marine villa were thrown open to invite the free entrance of the pure air of the sea into the large, shaded drawing-room. Meadily the zephyr accepted the hospitality—who could have refused it to such an aristocratic mansioa?—anld set the snowy drapery

mischievously through.

On the verandah sat a young girl, leaning her bright brown head against the fresh green leaves that twined the tall column, while a book engaged her attention. The soft breeze fanned her cheek ; and her calm, thoughtful face seemed to indicate that the quiet beauty of the landscape had stolen into her heart, and that she felt its gentle charm, though her eyes drank not in the rich coloring of the scene.

She was not beautiful ; that is—smile not, gent!o reader, at the qualification of a heroine’s homcliness—sie was not oue whose beauty would attracta second glance. No exquisite regularity of feature or delicately tinted complexion, sug- gested her as the artist’s or the poct’s ideal. But could even painter catch the shifting tints of that rich hair, or paint the expression of that calm, blue eye? He might not draw in- spiration from its glance, but he would feel the happier that its kindliness had, for a moment, rested »n him! No, hers was not the style to attract the eye of the connoisseur, or win the admiration of the crowd, but one to take up its silent abode in one heart, and brighten one life for ever after. We can scarcely wonder, then, to see this young girl, in Hr simple white dress and plainly banded hair, sitting apart, best pleased when by herself, even though music and merry voices float to her through the open windows.

The sun is setting behind the hills, and in his dying moments has no longer power to mar with his warm kiss the snowy brows of those who bave remained within, fearful of his power, and they are coming forth to look upon him now that he is no longer dangerous. A young girl, attired in all the rich and exquisitely tasteful appurtenances of a French toilet, whose sparkling beauty bears the gay costume with a striking ; an older lady, whose dress bespeaks the dowager, and two gentlemen, compose the group.

As they approach the steps, the present oceupant rises quickly, and draws more into the shadow of the vines; the gentlemen pause, but the ladies proceed, and the younger one carelessly exclaims, “ Oh! never mind, it’s only Bella!”

A faint flush rises to Bella’s checks; she returns the gentleman’s ceremonious bow with quiet grace, and they

on.

“And who is Bella, may I ask?” inquired one of the gentlemen, evidently somewhat of a stranger, as he and the younger lady strolled in advance of the others.

_* Why, Bella Reade, my sister!” replied she, laughing at his surprise, __ “Pardon me, Miss Reade, I thought you were the only jewel this charming casket enshrined. I had never heard of a .

_“‘ At Was a very natural mistake, Sir Pere Marston,” re- plied the lady, good humoredly. “ Bella is’ odd ; she feels that she is not pretty, and cares little for society ; so she | rarely popes - a should die of ennui were I to mope at home as she does! What a pretty picture that little es boat makes as the sunbeam oly cae its sail!”

Her evident wish to dismiss the subject vexed Sir Percy Marston for a moment; but she looked so charming in the graceful attitude she had assumed to designate the picture, that he could but admire, and in a little while Bella was forgotten in the sprightliness of her more beautiful sister.

Yes, Bella Reade, you were “odd,” and no one knew it better than yourself, for no one heard it oftener! Her tastes had ever been at variance with all those whom her father’s wealth Surrounded her; and she grieved for her mother’s disappointment, when she became assured that her own! juvenile triumphs would never be reproduced by her eldest |

the perfect repose of manner, and calm, gdod sense of Bella’s occasional remarks, he could but feel it a refreshing relief.

“He’s comparing us,” thought Bella, catching his glance as it wandered from her sister to her. ‘ Happy Jessie, she need not fear the result! And why should [? Fie! Bella, envious again! What is it to you that he should ad- mire her most ?”

But Bella could not so easily banish the anxiety, and a feeling of uneasiness almost amounting to unhappiness, for the first time in years, took possession of her. Little did she dream the result could.be favorable to ther, so accustomed had she been to see physical beauty carry all before it.

After tea a moonlight ride was proposed, and Mrs. Reade’s pheeton was ordered to the door.

* Will not Miss Reade accompany us?” asked Marston, turning towards her.

* Bella does not care about it,” replied her mother, with- out giving her time to answer; “she prefers remaining as company to her father. Do you not, Bella?’

“Yes, mamma,” replied Bella, quietly, though for once her heart rebelled against the falsehood. Many, many times it would have been true, for Bella loved her father best upon earth; but to-night the words were strongly rebellious,and sounded falsé to her own ear as she uttered them.

As she sat in the pure moonlight, when they had driven away, she felt ashamed of her discontent, and endeavored to | quell the sad thoughts that rose tumultuously within her | breast, but the struggle was harder than ever before. After | awhile Mr. Reade, who had been engaged in his library since | tea, came out on the terrace; but the change from the bright light prevented his seeing who was there.

“Is any one here ?” he asked.

“ Only Bella, papa,” replied she, in the accepted phrase: ology.

* Only Bella? It is always only Bella! and what more could any reasonable person want than such a Bella ?” said Mr. Reade, affectionately laying his hand on her head. It was seldom the kind, but pre-occupied statesman exhibited so much warmth, and coming at such a moment, Bella felt it almost as a reproof.

“ Don’t say so, papa,” she exclaimed, half frightened, yet longing to throw herself into his arms and confess her weak- ness ; but diffidence restrained her, and she added playfully, * Don’t spoil me by flattery, then. Come, shall I sing for you?” and wishing to change the topic and divert his at-

One morning Mr. Reade returned to his dwelling before the usual hour, and entering his wife’s boudoir, found the three ladies variously employed ;*Mrs. Reade and Beila were working, aud Jessie negligently: reclining upon an ottoman, reading the last new novel. & :

They all looked up in some surprise at Mr, Reade’s unex- pected entrance, and. the peculiar expression of his face pre- pared them for some news.

“ Why, Charles, what has recalled you at this hour?” asked the myther.

« Why. sy dears,-I have a little piece of information to impart, that, found itimpossible to retain until this evening,” replied he.

Jessie’s curiosity thoroughly aroused, she laid down her book, and coming forward, took a seat by his side.

‘«‘ Well, pepa, what is it ?’ asked she, impatient of his pause.

“ Well, littie curiosity! a gentleman has asked the hand of one of my daughters.”

* Ts that all !’? exclaimed Mrs. Reade, with well-bred noz- chalance.

Jessie cast down her eyes with a charmingly conscious ex- pression, as she asked, with affected innocence, K question both Bella and her mother thought quite superfluous.

“ Which, papa ?”

«“ Only Bella!” replied he, demurely, while the merry, mischievous twinkle in his eye betrayed his amusement.

« Bella !” eried both the ladies at once, while the blushing subject of their surprise sat gazing at her father with a troubled face, endeavoring to detect the joke, .

‘‘ Certainly,” replied he warmly. “* Do you think because we cannot see Bella’s merits every one else is blind too ?”

When Bella knew that her father was not jesting, her troubled look gave place to one of astonishment, and sie cast down her eyes in painful embarrassment.

“ Bella, my child,” said Mr. Reade, approaching, and taking her hand affectionately in his, “ Sir Percy Marston has offered you, through me, his hand and fortune ; his heart I believe you have already. He is all I could wish for you: —will you accept him ?”

« Yes, father,” replied the bewildered girl, in a low voice, ‘Cif you wish it, aud he will take me.”

“Take you!” exclaimed Mr. Reade, kissing her proudly,

“ trust him for that! There, my dears,” continued he, turn- ing to the others, not yet recovered from their astonishment,

T have transacted that little piece of business greatly to my

Bella discovered that he was sad and pre-oecupied, that he no longer caressed her as at first, and dark foreboding rose like thunder clouds to shut out the sun of her existence. She believed that he was ceasing to love her; and grief so preyed upon her that day by day her cheek grew paler, and her unhappy husband read in it pinings for lost liberty—or, still Worse, some dearer object from which he had separated her for ever.

While the impulse of every hour was to throw herse!f upon his bosom and implore him not to withdraw his affection, she received him with the same calm smile that would have lighted her face had her heart been breaking.

A warm debate at the House of Commons had detained Marston late one evening, and Bella sat in her boudoir await- ing him. Sad fancies clustered thickly about, as she sat alone listening for the step of him she prized above life itself, and between whom and herself the gulf seemed slowly widening.

With a heavier heart than ever, the unhappy husband enter- ed his dwelling, and mechanically turned his steps to his wife's room. The door was ajar, and he pushed it open without rousing her attention from a miniature she was pressing to her lips.

Bella in tears! For the first time in his life he saw her thus moved. . Though of Jate tears were no strangers to her lonely hours, she had ever summoned a smile for him. The sight affected him strangely, and even strengthened his unhappy conviction ; for it proved that she had deep feelings under the ice of her calmness, though he had failed to waken them. Then the object of her unwonted caresses! not for 2 moment did he dream it could be his gift; in fact, he had forgotten that his likeness had been among her. bridal ornaments. He could bear it no longer ; frankness prompted him to tell her of his discovery, and then relieve her_for ever * of his unwished for presenec.

A moment sufficed for all these thoughts to rush through his brain, for almost immediately feeling his presence, Bella looked up, frightened, confused, and more agitated than any one had ever seen her before.

Hastily slipping the miniature in to her bosom, and trembling like a culprit, she yet called ap a smile, and greeted her hus- band with her usual kindly salutation. Sir Perey Marston’s grave face oppressed her with a nameless ‘foreboding, as pale and determined he adyanced towards her.

* Bella,”-——the mournful tone almost stopped the pulsations

of her heart,—* my wite, forgive me that L have been unwit-

tingly and unconsciously, till now, the cause of so much un- happiness to you.” ‘

Surprise and diffidence he!d her silent.

“ When from your father [ received your hand,” he con- tinued, “ I believed it willingly given: pardon me, then, the vanity of dreaming I could make you happy ; for six months in gain I have striven to do so! Think not [ reproach you ; you have ever been kind and gentle to me, and my misfortune alone was it that I could not awaken in your heart a love re- sponsive to the deep affection of mine ? You have been to me all T could ask, though I rashly hoped for more. L have de- ecived myself, and must suffer for my presumption.”

Why could not Bella speak the words that were burning on her lips, to teli the feeling that convulsed her very being ? But no, she was spell-bound, and Marstoa resumed,—

“The only comfort that cheers me in this hour of trial is that I shall suffer alone; and though I cannot restore your liberty, and him whose cold image lies wherg [ have vainly hoped to rest, [ can, at least, relieve you of my presence, whieh ever reminds you of your bondage, and bid you farewell for ever. Forgive me if I have pained you ;. it was meant in kindness and for your happiness?”

He turned to leave the room, moved almost to tears by the agitation of the hard trial, The tumult in Bella’s heart was agonizing, and like one in a nightmare who dreams be ise drowning, she saw the last plank float slowly ‘past her with- out the power to grasp it. Her busband’s hand was on the door—-a moment more, and he would be gone for ever. She could not bear it.

" & Perey !” she gasped.

His Christian nai¥e, for the first time from her lips, ar- rested his steps, and he turned with a beating heart to hear her words. A glance at her face showed the anguish there ; and when, still like one in a dream, she removed the ribbon

satisfaction ; now I will return to the Club, where, ere this, an anxious heart is waiting to know its doom.” “ But what are we to do without her ?” said Mrs. Reade,

tention from herself, she drew him into the drawing-room, lighted only by the moon, and seated herself at the instrument. An accidental witness of this scene leaned ‘against the

pillar, that had served her as a support at sunset, sorely puzzled with the new interest that was springing up within him. Marston had left the party, paying a visit in the neighborhood, and had walked back alone to the house, which now had a new charm for him, and stood listening to the low, sweet voice that floated out into the soft light as pure and melancholy as the moonbeam itself. Sir Percy Marston could have wished his lady hostess and her merry companions at any distance from their home, as the carriage came crash- ing over the gravel, and the light laugh rose above the clatter of the wheels, for at their approach Bella ceased and dis- appeared from the drawing-room, little dreaming she had had any more attentive listener than her father, who was now dozing in his arm-chair, dreaming of his constituents | and the next general election, for he was a country member.

“ T thought [ heard singing !” said Ashton, looking round as they entered.

“ Yes, it was only Bella,” replied Jessie, taking her sister’s vacated seat.

French chansonettes, polkas, waltzes: now sparkled from Jessic’s fingers ; but unable to endure the contrast, Marston excused himself and retired; but Ashton, to whom Bella was a nonentity when Jessie was present, spent another delightful | hour with her and her elegant mamma, and then they es persed for the night to dream of new pleasures on the morrow.

Many a bright summer afternoon saw Sir Perey Marston a)

fretfully, as if she felt it downright ungrateful in Bella to consent to such an arrangement. ;

“ Well, my dear, it’s ‘ only Bella,’ that is a comfort ; think | if it had been Jessie!” replied he, pressing the hand of his eldest daughter ; and with a mischievous laugh, that made | his lady toss her head and the beauty pout a little, Mr. Reade | returned to make Sir Perey Marston happy. |

With an outward calm as unbroken as ever, though every | fibre of her living being was trembling with yreat happiness, | Bella resumed her work, while the comments and wonder- | ment of her mother and sister rang in her ears without seuse | or meaning to her bewildered senses,

That evening the hand that Sir Perey Marston took for the first time in his, was cold as ice; and he started at the) contact ; but the faint flush and “ moonlight smile” that met | his anxious glance re-assured him, and he pressed it to his | lips, half awed by her strange composure, yet not less happy.

Could he have known the thrill of ecstacy, the tumult of,

emotion that was imprisoned in her heart, he would have | wondered still more at the strange power of that timid girl.

Though it was ‘only Bella,” the gay mamma sould nas be induced to forego the pleasure of a brilliant wedding ; and | ill suited as it was to Bella’s feelings, she yielded, all unused | to choose for herself, Pure and lovely she looked in her | rich bridal attire, and the lustve of true feeling penetrated | the quictude of her pale features, relieving their usual

daughter. Her own beauty was on the wane, and Mrs, Reade welcome visitor to Hazelwood, for he was an unexeceptionable | coldness.

knew that the strongest additional passport. to brilliant. society beside her wealth, would be a handsome daughter, to

parti, and such were ever sure of weleome from the gracious | hostess, whose lead Mr. Reade ever good naturedly seconded. |

With a heart beating high with confident hope, Marston | enshrined her in her charming home, trusting that time would

‘from her neck and placed the locket in his band, he felt eon- istrained to take it, and involuntarily glanced at the pictare. | It was his own.

Bewildered, he looked at Bella; and as ifa veil had been lifted, he saw her soul shining through the soft eyes fixed with anxious éxpectation upon his face. Past, present and future stood revealed in that lightning flash of mutual under- standing. Happiness, too exquisite for words, dawned’in the throbbing hearts of those so nearly lost to each other; and Marston folded his new-found wife in a silent embrace, feeling he had never known till now how much he loved her.

With Bella the ice was broken never to re-unite ; the pent up tenderness of a lifetime rushed in a boundless torrent over the barriers now too weak longer to control it; and that moment was like the beginning of a new life to her.

Mutual explanations threw light on much that had before been dark to both; and the present seemed a blaze of sun- light from the cloud that had rested on the past.

«“ Were the whole world offered for my choice, what think you, dearest, I would take ?” asked Marston, one evening, encircling his sweet wife with his protecting arm, '

“Only Bella!” replied she, laying her head upon his shoulder in ali the coufidence of perfect love,

“ How old are you, Bridget ?”’ said a gentleman tohis servant girl. Hf '

“ About fifty, sir,”’ replied Bridget. .

“You are mistaken, Bridget, you are not over twenty.”

“ Yes, sir, that is it. I'm about tweaty or fifty, somewhere along there.”

This answer indicates about the same degree of intelligence as that of an old grayheaded negroin South Carolina: ** How

give eclat to her entertainments, and secure a young and, To Jessie he was a pleasant companion, some one to flirt with, 'remove her reserve and disclose her true character. Bat in’ og are you Pete ?” end a gentieman to himeneday, brilliant company. ‘Therefore she was not measured in her; and that was al-sufficient for the present ; for a permaneut vain; for diffidence had become part of her nature, and she, “1 dunno Massa, I feels berry old; ‘spect Ice about five or regrets ; and Bella, whose early youth gave no promise of | companion, she preferred a very different person. Any one, could not throw it off at will. Often when her heart sprang six hundred.”

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