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the business of the House than during his 1849, he resigned his office of Comptroller, former term, and he was assigned a place on to assume the duties of his new position, and one of the most important committees—that in the discharge of those high and delicate on elections. He was successively reëlected duties, he acquitted himself with courtesy, to the 26th and 27th Congresses, and in dignity, and ability, until the death of Genboth of them distinguished himself as a man eral Taylor, in July, 1850, elevated him to of talents and great business capacity. At the Presidential chair. His term of office exthe close of the first session of the 27th Con- pires on the 4th of March, 1853. Mr. Fillgress, he signified to his constituents his in more was married in 1826 to Abigail Powtention not to be a candidate for reëlection, ers, the youngest child of the late Rev. returned to Buffalo, and again devoted him- Lemuel Powers, by whom he has a son and self to his profession, of which he had be a daughter. Mr. Fillmore has filled the discome one of the most distinguished members tinguished station which he now occupies in the State. In 1844, he was prevailed with dignity and ability. He is emphatically upon to accept the nomination by the Whig a self-made man. From an inheritance of party for Governor of the State of New comparative poverty, he has, by his own exYork; but he shared in the general defeat ertions, raised himself to one of the most of his party. In 1847, however, he was con eminent positions in the world, affording a soled for his defeat by his election to the fine illustration of the boast of our country, office of Comptroller of the State, by an ex that its highest honors and dignities are the ceedingly large majority. In 1848, he was legitimate objects of ambition to the humblest nominated by the Whigs as their candidate in the land, as well as to those most favored for Vice-President, and elected to that office by the gifts of birth and fortune. in the fall of the same year. In March,

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MEETA Clifton was sitting alone in her | twining. A door opened, and Meeta's reverie luxuriously furnished boudoir, one hand veil was broken. She raised her large, thoughting her eyes from the subdued light of the ful eyes, and met the anxious and inquiring apartment, the other carelessly resting on the gaze of her devotedly fond mother. closed and splendidly bound volume in her “ Tears ! tears again, my darling—tell me, lap. Her small lips were tightly compressed, Meeta, why is this? Have you not every and now and then there stole from the veil- luxury which you could desire !—every wish ed eyes large tears, which glanced along her granted as soon as expressed ?—and still you cheeks like drops of dew on the petals of a persevere in weeping away your mornings, blushing rose.

and sighing away your evenings, as though From the opened windows of the conser your heart was breaking. There is some vatory there came a mingled perfume of cause for this, Meeta, and you must tell it many blossoms, and at her feet lay the half- to me, my child." finished wreath of delicate buds, which but Mrs. Clifton bad commenced in an almost a few moments before she had been busily playful tone of voice, but as she proceeded

her tones, if not her words, assumed a tinge in the parlor—Miss Nogent singing a popa of bitterness, and when she ceased a look of lar song, accompanied by a gentleman beide vexation had entirely displaced the one of her, whose deep, rich voice swept the fa motherly anxiety, which had before so plain- chords of Meeta's heart, as a summer brez ly predominated. Meeta stopped, raised the would sweep over the trembling strina da wreath, and selecting a sprig of jessamine wind-harp. But the melody it avoke and from the flowers before her, diligently bent not as soon away. How many times in the over her work, as she carelessly answered: watches of the sleepless night that seeded “It is not strange that one should have sad that eventful meeting, did Mes Criston thoughts at times, mamma, and I have been listen to the echoing vibrations at sa reading a sad tale this morning."

powerfully moved her; how manytas tid Mrs. Clifton lifted the volume. It was a she repeat to herself his musical name book of German legends.

“Clarence Grenville." It seemed to be the “I wish you would stop reading these golden key which was to unlock for be the German stories, Meeta—you know you were treasure-house of the future. always visionary enough. Come, child, put The next day Mrs. Nugent and be up this nonsensical romance and dress your daughter passed with the Cliftons. : self; I will order the carriage, and we will Grenville dined with them; and when he go down to Levy's and see what they have bade them good evening, he bore away the new and pretty."

jessamine which Meeta bad twiped in bs A look of weariness, almost of disgust, wreath-the wreath she had sept ofer, Ets passed over Meeta's strikingly beautiful fea- | dreaming one of its flowers would be pressed tures as she arose from the lounge, and care- | to the lips of her “first love." fully laid her wreath in a porphyry urn half | Days, weeks, months glided onward, as. filled with water. With a languid step she Meeta and Clarence were betrothed. I followed her mother from the room-up the Grenville bad Meeta found the ideal she had staircase, and then gliding into her own pictured; and fully understood and apprecia dressing room, she closed the door, and ated by him was her noble and sensitiu turned the key in the lock. She threw a nature. Never wearied of her wild imagining careless glance around the chamber, and he listened hour after hour to the tide o met the reflection of her own graceful form brilliant thought which gushed carelessit in the Psyche glass. The marble forehead froin the deep wells of her intellect, or flowed so thoughtfully serene—the dark eyes so calmly from the boundless seas of her atteintensely brilliant--the faultlessly chiselled tion. He had passed the first flush of masmouth-she poted all, and then with an hood, and disgusted with the heartless almost sorrowful smile, she said : "For these of the throng, in whose midst he had mured must I listen to the flatteries I despise, wbile a polished man of the world, he looked cpio not one soul in the wide world understands | Meeta's rare and beautiful attractions with ser me as I long to be understood.”

prise and glowing admiration; for even at the "Meeta, are you ready?"

first meeting had his discerning eye penetrated “In one moment, mamma;” and tying on the almost haughty coldness of a her bonnet, and folding her cashmere about ners. An intimate acquaintance soon ripened her, she joined her mother in the hall. into love upon his part, and the avomalo

After making their purchases at Levy's, it was met with no affectation of indiffere09 Mrs. Clifton ordered the coachman to drive by Meeta. Upon the very sofa where but a to the United States Hotel, where Meeta few months before she bad wept because she and herself immediately proceeded to call so longed for a sympathizing spirit, did she upon some friends from St. Louis.

sit by the side of Clarence, hand clasped in They found Mrs. Nugent and her daughter band, and the pure blood mantling her

the room step she me Days, week

heeks with crimson, as she listened to the dare to bring to me a heart whose altars are loquent words which told her how fondly, soiled with the ashes of the sacrifices which low devotedly was she beloved. After their you offered up in other days. Clarence ngagement, most of their mornings were Grenville! is this the return for the unpent together; either in riding or walk bounded lore which I have poured upon ng, or in their favorite apartment, the bou you ?-no, not upon you, but the ideal with loir. There, one morning, Clarence sur whom I fancied I had exchanged a heart as prised her, so deeply engrossed in the Ger- | fresh, and pure, and fervent as my own." nan tale she was reading, that he raised ber Clarence looked upon Meeta with surand from the table before she was aware of prise. jis presence.

"Surely, dear one, this is but a jest. You “I ain jealous of that book, Meeta, and I cannot imagine that my love for you is less challenge you to give it me."

strong or less abiding, because my fancies “Ab, Clarence, ny German books are all have been enthralled before. You will not he world to me in your absence; there I let such a trifling cause interfere with onr ive over all the happiness I experience in happiness, Meeta? My love for you is too your presence, and sometimes I so identify deep for such bubbles upon the surface of myself with the feelings of some favorite the past to affect for a moment." character, that I forget the matter-of-fact | Slowly from her cushioned seat Meeta world of now-a-days."

| arose; there were no tears in her eyes, but " Then is the present matter-of-fact' so the pupils were painfully dilated, and her lisagreeable to you, Meeta ?"

colorless cheeks and lips bore unmistakable “Oh, no, Clarence; I am far happier than signs of the struggles of her proud heart. any of my heroines since we have met; so For one moment she paused in front of her happy, that I sometimes tremble lest the | betrothed—with a low whisper she bowed oright dreams which gilded my pathway so her head. suddenly and beautifully vanish. Shall I “Take back this ring, Clarence—our ell you my last night's dream, Clarence ?” marriage can never be, and henceforth I am

“Certainly, dearest; but I am sure with to you only as a bubble upon the waters of pour strong mind you are not in the least the past. God in mercy grant that it may superstitivus; although I easily divine that disturb the serenity of my life no more than he dream was not a pleasant one by the it will yours." Madonna-like look which you wear. There Another moment, and she had gone.

-your eyes a trifle lower: that will do. How bewildered was the look which Clarence Now your expression is exactly that of Ellen cast upon the closing door ; with what wild Gray, my first love. I must tell you all energy did he spring forward—it was too late. about that, Meeta.”

He seized the pencil which lay upon Meeta's eyes were turned full upon Clar | Meeta's escritoire, and wrote hurriedly upon ence Grenville's before his last sentence was a blank sheet of note-paper: finished. Slowly from her cheeks the rose | “For God's sake, Meeta, come back to hue faded, and strangely hoarse was her me—for my sake, come—for my own sweet voice as shu said, “ Clarence, you have surely sake, beloved. Too closely woven are the never loved before !"

inmost fibres of our hearts for this rude blow "Most assuredly I have, my loveliest and to separate. Come to me, darling: I will my best,” he replied, at the same time vainly tell you all. I have not one thought which endeavoring to imprison the hand she had I would hide from you—come, and let these withdrawn.

moments of unnecessary torments cease. "Oh, Clarence, this is terrible !—this is

For ever thine, and thine only, cruel! You have loved before, and yet you


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