Graham's Magazine, Vol XXXIII, No. 6, December 1848. Various

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      The arrival of Mr. Dundass upon the scene was wholly unlooked for by Mr. Donaldson – need we say as wholly unwelcome. Guilt and fear paled his cheek and almost palsied his tongue as his lips feigned a welcome – nor was Perozzi less moved. To define the feelings of Mrs. Donaldson would be difficult. Her love for her daughter had been held in complete subjugation to the will of her husband, and while she grieved deeply for the sorrows heaped upon her, her love and fear of Mr. Donaldson, and her knowledge of his pecuniary distress caused her at the same time to exert all her influence to rivet the chain around poor Mildred – so strange is human nature! What then was to be the result of her father's unexpected visit – was it freedom for Mildred – was it to heap disgrace upon her husband?

      In the mean time Mr. Dundass had been shown to a private room in a remote wing of the building, while Mr. Donaldson and Perozzi were already planning new schemes. They resolved that Mildred should be kept in ignorance of her grandfather's arrival as long as possible – of Rupert's they themselves knew nothing – and that on no account should she be allowed to speak with him privately. The marriage should take place at an early hour the following morning —that consummated they would defy even the devil himself!

      Mr. Dundass was sitting sad and sorrowful in the apartment to which he had been conducted, for this marriage filled him with grief, wondering that Mildred did not appear to welcome him, or that Rupert did not return, when the door suddenly opened and Mildred rushed in, and falling at his feet exclaimed:

      "O dearest, dearest grandfather, pity me – O sacrifice me not to Perozzi!"

      "Sacrifice you, my darling child! Come to my arms – what mean you —sacrifice– I thought it was your happiness I was securing by consenting to your union."

      "Happiness! O grandfather – rather my misery!"

      "What does this mean?" exclaimed Mr. Dundass. "There must be treachery somewhere! God knows how it has grieved my heart to think of your union with that man – I know him to be a villain, and when repeatedly urged to consent to the marriage, I as repeatedly refused, until your own letter – "

      "My letter – good heavens!" exclaimed Mildred.

      "Written in the most moving language, at length won my reluctant consent!"

      All was now explained, and the villainy of Mr. Donaldson and his coadjutor made clear.

      "Courage, courage, my darling," said Mr. Dundass, "come with me. Come, Rupert, I will 'beard the lion in his den,' and make known this infamous plot – come."

      "My mother – spare her, dear grandfather – forgive them all – I am happy now – let us not mar the pleasure of the guests," interceded Mildred.

      "You say right, my child – to-morrow will be soon enough. But come with me, children – let us join the gay assembly – nay, fear not, Mildred. Perozzi, the villain, he shall not dare even to look upon you!"

      Now strains of delicious music filled the air – lights gleamed – jewels flashed – feathers waved, and on every side the merry laugh and gay badinage met the ear from prince and beggar – wild roving gipsy and sombre nun – knights in armor – minstrels – flower-girls – jugglers and staid Quakers, as in confused mélée they swept through the rooms – yet all stood aside in silent admiration as the lovely Mildred Ward in her graceful Turkish costume, her face beaming with happiness, entered the saloon leaning on the arm of her gray-haired sire.

      Muttering curses through his closed visor, Perozzi (who was dressed as a knight of Old Castile) hastily left the scene. He had sought Mildred in her chamber – she was not there, and well did his guilty fears surmise where she might be found. One glance at her speaking countenance was enough. He saw in a moment all was over – that the fiendish plot so near consummation was betrayed! With terrible oaths he mounted his mule, and plunging his spurs rowel-deep into the sides of the poor beast rushed, armed as he was, like some terrible demon through the peaceful moon-lit vale until he reached the Pen – vowing that on the morrow he would seize at once with the grip of a harpy upon the estates of Mr. Donaldson.

      But here, too, he was foiled! Mr. Donaldson, it is true, did not deserve so much mercy, but when, like a penitent, he came before Mr. Dundass and confessed his crime, the heart of the old man was moved to pity. He generously advanced the necessary funds, and wrenched the Cascade from the clutches of Perozzi. Touched by such unmerited goodness and generosity, Mr. Donaldson resolved to become a better man, and to repair by his future conduct the errors of the past.

      At Mount Dundass, whither the whole family accompanied its venerable proprietor, Rupert received the hand of the happy Mildred, and after the death of Mr. Dundass, which took place only a few months later, took his beautiful young bride to England.

      A LAY

      BY GRACE GREENWOOD

      The glorious queen of heaven who flings

      Her royal radiance round me now,

      As with clasped hands and upturned brow

      I watch her pathway fair and free,

      Is not so silvery with the light

      She pours o'er darkened earth to-night,

      As in the gentle thoughts she brings

      Of thee, dear love, of thee!

      The night-wind trembling round the rose —

      The starlight floating on the river,

      The fearful aspen's silvery shiver,

      The dew-drop glistening on the lea,

      Night's pure baptism to the flowers —

      All, all bring back our dear, lost hours,

      Till every heart-string thrills and glows

      For thee, dear-love, for thee!

      And when dawn wakes the Earth with song,

      And Nature's heart, so hushed to-night,

      Goes leaping in the morning light, —

      While waves flash onward to the sea.

      While perfumed dews to heaven arise —

      While glory flashes o'er the skies —

      Still through my soul shall sweet thoughts throng

      Of thee, dear love, of thee!

      Ah, thou beloved, whose heart hath thrilled

      To blessed dreams and joys with mine,

      What power shall change thy love divine,

      Or shut its presence out from me!

      Since all bright things, from flower to star,

      Its types and sweet reminders are

      To this fond heart, this soul so filled

      With thee, dear love, with thee!

      We part not, though we said adieu —

      Since first thy thoughts chimed in with mine,

      And from those glorious eyes of thine

      A heaven of love looked down on me,

      My very life round thine is poured —

      Thy words within my soul I hoard —

      Still true, in every heart-throb true

      To thee, dear love, to thee!

      THE SAILOR'S LIFE-TALE

      A TRUE REMINISCENCE

      BY SYBIL SUTHERLAND

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