THE BRIDESMAID.
Tr was 9 sunny and cheerful May moming, and the season was os bright and as beautiful as the hearts and hopes of the young and lovely sisters, who, blushing in their bridal attire, were reclining on a rosewood ottoman in the drawing-room of a spacious eolonnaded mansion that omaments one of the most elegant of our metropo- Jitun squares; and yet there was a spark of sadness that chilled and clouded the spirits of both: the severing of the intimacy, the companionship of ycars, for the first time, probably never again to be relinked—the unknown res to be endurcd=drew tears from their eyes, ax in silence they clasped cach other's hands in @ fond and mutual strain,
“Come, Louisa, you must not droop so; remember you ere my bridesmaid. If you, my supporter, my confidante, fail and forsake me, who will cheer up my courage, and hand a white handkerchief to the Tragedy Queen?”
«You stilt will banter, Charlotte. Well, I am glad you can, We will not think—at least, not talk—of puting yet. Here slops a carriage, but not Aie—yours, I should say.”
“Well, my Louisa, when the Exile from the East returna—the sallow reckoner of rupees ond mohirs, then it will be my turn, and, believe me, F shal] not spate you.”
“Ab, Charlotte! a long voyage, the ocean and its storms, and hope deferred, make tha heart, very, very sick.”
“You will be happy soon, my sister, and all your fretting will be no longer remembered.”
Poor Louisa looked at her eister, her dress, hor new omaments, the ring, aid deeply and hopelessly sighed.
The room soon fillod with the invited guests; and favors, gloves, and ribbons, flew and fluttered through the long and splendid line of equipages. A quarter of ‘an hour might have passed away, and every carriage tut one hud reccived ite freight of fashion, when a thunder- ing ond unceremonious peal on the hall door’s brazen electric khock of nervous curiosity and alarm, A do- rapper, startled the veiled bride and her sister with an mestie hurried up the stairs, and met them on the tanding-place.
“A foreign letter, Ma'am.”
“Give it me quick !”
“No, Louisa, my love, oblige me, I wilt first open it and read.”
My God, that black seal! I knew, I knew it would be so all along. I dreaded it, 1711 go to him then that no fale of power can prevent now. Read it to me, Charlotte; though, my beart, presuged it, already knows the contents, Poor, poor Edmund.”
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The characters of woe, which her trembling sister articulated falteringly, supplied painful proof to her strange, an‘, alas! too trac forebodings. Her betrothed had been some months dead in India; and his fiend, who wrote the mournful communication, mentioned, that on the day that he last wrote to Louisa, scarcely an hour after he hod impressed his scal upon the writing that gavo delusive hopes, which bloomed only to he blasted, Denth sealed his destiny with his most rigid imprint, and the sunset shone upon another grave of @ new victira to the Aviatic pestilence.
"The bridesmaid heard the letter read through and finished without a word, groan, or cob. Like a warsior, who, for an instant after the lance has transfixed hito, stands sternly and proud, and falls not, she boro up one moment, and then sank hack and fhinted.
‘Ob! human happiness, how Yuseleas, how tottering ix thy structure. ‘The nuptials were postponed—the feast left untasted ; and when the doctor artivod at the house, where ‘al) things were tumed to their contraries,” he saw the lovely form of the pale and breathless girl supine upon the couch, and her sister, whom horror had ren- dlered scarcely more life-like, bending over her, still hoiding in her hand the warrant of her fate, ‘The most violent stinmlants, the strongest anil most powerful res- toratives, were for a time epplied ineffectually ; but at lest eucceeded in bringing back conscioumess, when she tuned to ber sister, raised the letter, and, pressing it to het tomples, dropped one tear, large and agonizing, as if her Druin bad been scathed into weeping,
It would be a ead and painful task to endeavor to describe the rapidity with which this young and lovely creature sunk into decay, ‘The blow was unrering, and she never rallied oven for a moment, ‘The last wards which she addressed to her sister were, Wo must part, my beloved Charlotte! I sink to rest—~rest, quiet and untroubled, where mournful tidings, and lettern that bear news of death, will never ugain break my heart! Raixe ime, sister, till I listens angela speak so low. Tam sure T shall know him—his spirit's robe cannot disguise bia from me—so dazzling they shine, they pain my eyes; but I shalt soon, soon close them for ever, Do not weep, my sister. Now, good bye! We have loved cach other to the last?” and that night the gentle and beauteous bridesmaid closed her eyes for ever.
A Fins Trovowr.—Could we open the secret history of those who have risen to eminence; could we survey their Iofty purposes, their well-digested plan, the skill and energy which they employed ; could we beholl the obstacles they aurmouzited, we mightbetter understand the true import of that appropriate adage, « Every man, in the hand of Providence, is the architect of his own fortune,” �
