Seated at a table in that room were the two friends Ellen Lester and Clara Elton, though each now bore a different name ; and in the appearance of the two there was a marked and perceptible difference. Both were still beautiful, but in the subdued and melancholy expression that would steal over the features of Clara, could be read a tale of suffering, well calculated to fade the rose from the cheek, and the fire from the eye of beauty. Yet still traces of her former loveliness lingered, " like the beams of the parting day." She was clad in a robe of plain black, a color well fitted to her pale and chastened features. From the page on which she was reading, she would occasionally raise her eyes and fix them upon the face of Ellen, who, engaged in some of the many occupations of a mother, sat opposite to her ; and in that glance what volumes of the feelings and thoughts of the woman were told Ellen Davis presented a different picture. In her sweet face, slightly touched by the hand of time, were to be seen hope and joy fulfilled, a youth not spent in dreams for the unattainable, nor a womanhood consumed in longings for all the visionary romance of a girl's desires. She was a wife and mother, and as she bent her gaze upon her child, sleeping by her side, tears would roll up into her eyes ; but how different from these that filled those of her friend. Both were silent. Clara's thoughts were with the past she was again a girl, innocent and happy, at home amid the flowers and joys of youth and the friends that she loved, before the world with its chilling blasts nipped all the warmer and holier feelings of the young affections, and gave her in return a blighted and withered existence. And Ellen was in the present, calm and contented, blest with the love of a husband, who cherished in each expiring year all the depth and intensity of his young aspirations -surrounded with the love of her children-conscious of being the means of cheering the drooping spirits of one to whom through every vicissitude she still clung to with a wife's deep love. No wonder that, on her beaming countenance , no traces of sorrow could be seen. But as the hours flew by, and still no familiar knock was heard , (and all day had that husband been absent) impatience began to be manifest in the eager listening for each noise, and the frequent risings to catch, even through the gloom , a glimpse of the husband and father. But the anxiety was soon rewarded, as, flushed with the attainment of a cause in which more than ordinary ability had been engaged, Edward Davis entered the room . And now he recounted the labors of the day, and in his glowing and forcible manner gave to his listeners a brief and simple account of the few past hours. Then the toils of the office forgotten, he took up a volume of Hemans, and, in the best tones of a rich and manly voice, read aloud. This poetry of Home, this copy of the affections, and what a family circle was gathered there ! When the time of rest came, each retired with the love of peace resting upon the household altar, and among the many prayers that ascended from the shrine of Faith to the throne of Love that night ; none was more pure or sincere than that of Clara Elton for the happiness of Ellen Davis.
Kind reader ! one more move on the table of the past and we are done. As stated in the preceding part of this tale, after the nuptials of Clara Elton and the Count Trejaney, they began life on the most magnificent scale. All that wealth could lay upon the altar of fancy was procured. Ball followed ball, and parties succeeded each other in rapid succession. All was glare and show, fashion and extravagance ; and the beautiful wife of the Count was every where the theme of admiration and envy. Thus passed a year. But at the end of that time, Clara saw a visible change in the manner and appearance of that husband, and in his habits came also a change. Home to him was no longer a source of attraction ; he was often absent all night. To the remonstrance of his wife he at first presented an evasive answer, but now came the harsh look and the cutting reply. Under the pretence of delayed remittances, he procured large sums of money from the father of Clara to be expended secretly in gambling. Clara bore up against the tide of coming misfortunes with a woman's strength and resolution. She saw one after another of her long cherished dreams fade away, and bitterly did she repent the wrong impressions of men and things that she had entertained in early life. She saw now the true standard of worth, but alas ! too late. For some time after the marriage, her family gave themselves up to vain and delusive dreams of the alliance, but as the requests for means to keep up the course of living in which the Count indulged became more frequent and pressing, doubts would suggest themselves to the mind of the worldly man, and these were every day strengthened by the reports that began to be circulated as to Trejaney's pretension to the title of Count. More than one boldly hinted that he was a foreign adventurer, in quest of money ; and this became the settled belief of many. At this crisis of affairs came the derangement of the business matters of our country, and as Mr. Elton was deeply engaged in the moneyed institutions, he of course was a heavy suff rer. Whilst he was writhing under the losses that must reduce him to absolute dependence, the Count still continued to solicit large sums of money. Seeing that there was now no possibility of concealment, Mr. Elton gave up his effects, and retired to a small residence some distance from the city, the property of a friend. This was a severe blow to poor Clara. But a still heavier one awaited her. She was accustomed to the protracted visits of her husband to other cities ; but he had now been absent still longer than usual, when she received a letter
