Pagina-afbeeldingen
PDF
ePub

THE FATAL CORRESPONDENCE.

FACT, NOT FICTION.

BY ELIZA JULIA SPARROW.

"Am I awake, or is it all illusion?"- The Roman Father: Trag.
"Cæsar. Et tu Brute ?-Then fall, Cæsar!"-SHAKSPEARE.

It was a busy night in the metropolis of Ireland, that 20th of June, on which her gracious Majesty Victoria ascended the throne of England. Every window glittered with lights, and beautiful as gorgeous were the many-coloured lamps which decked the public buildings, and threw their varied hues over the queenly city. Many a banquet was spread to celebrate the event, and many a ball-room was filled with gay and brilliant guests; whilst bands of music pealed far and wide; and, for the first time, the chorus of our national anthem resounded with "The Queen! the Queen! God save the Queen!"

It was on that night that, amongst a dazzling crowd assembled at the residence of Lady S—, in Square, the handsome daughter of a baronet attracted the admiration of the light-hearted and imaginative Alfred Fitzallen, then a student College. Alfred was young and good-looking, highspirited and ingenuous; fresh from his mother's home, his mind was as pure and unsullied as it had been in childhood. His figure was tall and manly, and not wanting in grace; and his whole deportment indicated that open and unsuspecting

in

nature which is at once so pleasing and attractive, yet which, alas! too frequently leads its possessor to become the dupe of the wily or the vicious. With Alfred, to think and to act were almost simultaneous; and once attracted by the fair and stately Helen B- it took him but another moment to get an introduction, and demand her hand in the dance. Frequently, during the evening, he was by her side; and more than once he "led her through the glittering throng." The glow of a summer's morning was abroad ere the music had ceased and the dance was done, and Alfred returned to his chambers in College, amidst the raillery of his young companions, with whom he was an especial favourite, who each and all declared that Fitzallen had positively lost his heart.

Days passed away, and every time they met the jest was renewed; and whenever the friends chanced to sup together, Helen's health was drank with all the honours, and Alfred called upon by many a merry voice to return thanks for his lovely enslaver.

Thus was the topic and the raillery kept up for some time, when one morning a neatly-folded and delicately-written billet was placed in the hands of Fitzallen, and on opening it what was his astonishment to find it bore the signature of Helen B, and contained a request for the loan of a particular work, from a certain library to which he had free access, with instructions to have the volume left at Street, till called for. For an instant it crossed his mind that it was singular to be thus addressed by a lady, almost a stranger, and one whose family and friends were altogether unacquainted with him; but this thought was momentary, and soon drowned in the pleasure of being thus remembered by his gay and handsome partner of the last ball. The book was despatched, accompanied by an entreaty that a like honour and pleasure might occasionally be granted him. It was not long until the favour was repeated;

another and another billet came, and was answered; and thus a regular correspondence sprang up, which shortly carried words. of more than friendly import. The brief, bright hour upon which they had met in Lady S's ball-room, was recurred to and dwelt upon as the young and the ardent know how to dwell upon such topics; and Alfred ceased to think of Helen B- as a passing acquaintance, and began to watch for each fresh epistle with trembling interest.

In this correspondence he showed a mind exalted above the usual vanity of men, in the love of displaying such favours when bestowed on them by the opposite sex. With true delicacy of feeling, he kept it secret from all, save one favourite friend, young Armand, who had been his companion from childhood, and to whom he had been in the habit of imparting every family secret as if they had been brothers. Harry Armand was a few years older than Alfred, for whom he felt a warm attachment. Though deficient in refinement of feeling, he was nevertheless good-hearted and generous, and possessed many excellent and noble qualities to warrant our hero's partiality for him. But gay, even to thoughtlessness, his untiring love of amusement sometimes led him into follies. Reckless and well-tempered, there was no frolic of which Harry was not one of the first projectors and foremost actors; there was nothing too hazardous or troublesome for him to undertake and carry through; and frequently his own companions were the subjects of his merry, and at times somewhat provoking, humour; but the sound of his hearty laugh as it rang upon their ears, and the inexhaustible stores of fun that lurked in his half-closed eyes, or lingered about the corners of his mouth, told but too plainly that it was useless to be angry with Harry.

Weeks and months had rolled over since the night of the ball; and it was only now and then that the subject of Fitzallen's lost heart was revived. But absence from the object of

his now frequent thoughts, and the power which imagination is ever sure to make use of in adorning our mind's idols in her brightest colours, were doing their work on the heart of Alfred Fitzallen. She had attracted his admiration by her beauty, and slight as a ball-room acquaintance is, it served to leave an interesting and pleasing impression upon his mind. This, aided by an already close correspondence, by which he observed traits of a delicate, loving, and confiding character, was it any wonder that Alfred fancied her a faultless being, and was really in love? Immured within the close precincts of a college, with but few acquaintances in town, and wholly debarred from all female society, except the snatch he had of it at a chance ball, was it strange that Helen should become the sole object of his thoughts, "the morning-star of memory?" And there was a high degree of romance and mystery in the whole proceeding, which served to give it a deep and absorbing interest.

More than once in his epistles, he begged to be permitted to wait upon her, and to make the acquaintance of her family and friends, but this proposal was at all times postponed to a future day, and latterly he forbore to urge it. Helen's letters revealed, as we before mentioned, a loving and confiding nature, therefore he fully trusted her. "She has her own reasons for not permitting me to call at her father's house at present," thought he, "but that happiness is in store." He trusted with a "fearless faith," and he was happy.

His feelings had thus ripened into an attachment, which had all the ennobling effects that a pure attachment for an estimable woman is ever sure to produce. It made him shun everything that could degrade or lessen him in the eyes of her whose image he carried in his heart; it made him delight in communing with his own spirit and cultivating his fine mind: and being destined to push his way through life by embracing a learned profession, he studied harder and more closely than

heretofore, led on and cheered by words of kindness, interest, and affection, that he had never known before; and, in short, he came to feel that there was no difficulty he could not surmount in order to be thought worthy of the hand of Helen B—.

The routine of college life had gone on, as it had done for years, in midnight vigils and hard study, comfortless breakfast-tables and untidy dressing-rooms; and when the morning of the examinations arrived, a considerable degree of bustle and excitement was observable, until every cap and gown disappeared within the closed doors of the hall. That fearful ordeal past, and again they were emancipated, some joyous and triumphant, others downcast and disheartened, to seek their domiciles amidst the tumult of the busy city, or in the small dark abodes appropriated to their use in the great square of the college. A short time sufficed to rally every disappointed spirit, and soon all were ready to renew the jest upon his fellow, to join a serenading party, or in any way to make merry with their friends. Thus summer and autumn had been succeeded by winter, and spring had again returned. The air was fresh and balmy, and the sky bright and cloudless, as the two friends walked arm-in-arm towards Square, where the band of the

regiment had attracted numbers of pedestrians.

"Well, Armand,” said Alfred, as they entered the square, "I have partly succeeded at last in my wish to be permitted to visit Helen. Last week I ventured to repeat the request, and in her reply she has made no opposition, which I take to be at least half a grant."

"I am glad of it," was the reply ; we are-I-I am sure you are tired of it, and it is well to end it by seeing the girl."

He turned abruptly away, and joined some ladies, with whom he entered into an animated conversation. Fitzallen was not less light-hearted, less happy, or less capable of enjoyment than he had ever been, but his mind was engrossed by

« VorigeDoorgaan »