THE LOST GLOVE. (See the Engraving.) BY MRS. JANE C. CAMPBELL. FROM the first covering for the hand, down to the Henry VIII. gloves, which, D'Israeli tells us, are in the possession of the family of Sir Thomas Denny, and from these again down to the 'Alexandre' gloves in the store of Stewart, something curious, no doubt, might be related of them all. ter. Now-a-days, the cunning gipsy of a bride has no such embarrassment. The heart-finger is, seemingly, encased as tightly as before; but on the appearance of the magic circle which is henceforth to bound the maiden's destiny, down drops the previously-opened seam, and, "With this ring I thee wed," is heard on the instant. A great improvement this in the wedding-toilet. Now this last glove brings us to the lost glove of Theodore Alonzo Grimes. Theodore Alonzo was a walking advertisement, placarded from head to foot with the latest fashions. His beard was of the newest cut, his moustache the same-his gloves, he prided himself on their being faultless! A secret, dear reader-Theodore Alonzo was a There is the delicate primrose, or lavender-colored glove of the exquisite, which makes its appearance with the first butterfly of the season, and is the general accompaniment to the moustache, or to the beginnings of such a beard as Sir Roger de Coverly looked upon as the type of wisdom. Then there is the sober-colored glove of the staid middle-aged gentleman, often seen grasping the gold head of a stout cane, something less, perhaps, in its dimension than the famous walking-fortune-hunter. stick of Mr. Burchell, which afforded such amusement to the family of good Dr. Primrose. There is the grave black silk-glove of the divine; and the dainty white kid of the belle, bordered with the daintier down of the cygnet. There is the short, woolen glove of the chiffonnier, and the long, embroidered glove of the ballroom. Dear Dame Fashion, we crave thy pardon. We were thinking of long ago, when the smallest portion of the most-beautifully-rounded arm was displayed in public; we had forgotten the demi-nudity of thy present votaries. It may argue want of taste, but we confess to a dislike of the blue glove worn by many ladies. The color is too decided. We have seen a pretty girl walking in Broadway, dressed in most becoming bonnet, and tasteful cloak of blue merino; but the whole effect (to our eye at least) was spoiled by her wearing gloves to match. Only think, what a sweet contrast a delicate fawn, a pale buff or a white glove, would have formed with the Mazarine blue mantle ! Emily Stanton was one of those roguish, mischievous imps, who are continually flitting about, brimful of merriment; teasing, at times almost annoying, but with whom you cannot get angry, for the life of you. You begin a lecture on the proprieties of conduct, advance quite gravely, and, as you think, most convincingly--you look up to see the effect produced by your admonitionsEmily's sparkling black eye meets yours-there is no resisting the mirthful contagion, and your grave lecture ends at last in a laughing chorus. Emily had a quick perception of the ridiculous, which, if it had not been under the control of native good sense, and kindness of heart, might have surrounded her with enemies; but she never indulged in a display of wit that could wound the feelings of her friends, and was only tempted overmuch when she met with a Theodore Alonzo. "There's a very pretty girl," said Theodore to a companion, as he levelled his glass at a lady, who There is yet another-the prettiest-the tiniest had just taken her seat at the opera; "I wonder -(though not like Woodworth's, contained in a if she is married?" This was always the first nut-shell) the glove of gloves-the wedding-question asked by our hero when a lady attracted glove! his attention; the second invariably was: "Is she either went in pursuit or turned away with indifference. On this night he was raised to the seventh heaven by receiving satisfactory answers to both questions, and by an introduction to the lady. Emily knew his character, and in spite of the ominous looks of the gentleman who accompanied her, fell into a little, graceful flirtation with the dandy. How neatly it must fit the hand-not a stain-rich?" These two points settled, Theodore Alonzo not a wrinkle-so fine and soft in texture that the indentations of those pearly digital appendages vulgarly called nails, can be seen through the smooth surface. By-the-by, this passion for a neatly-fitting glove used to be a great bore when the ring was about to be placed on the finger of the bride. If the glove chanced to be too tight in the least, there stood the blushing bride's-maid, tugging away at the refractory article, and finding it as hard to pull off, as the boots of Peter Faber were difficult to pull on. There stood the bashful bride, trembling in sweet, maidenly confusion-there stood the patient clergyman, and the impatient bridegroom-and there stood the mis. chievous youngsters of the party, exchanging sly glances, and swelling with half-suppressed laugh Never was man on better terms with himself than was Theodore Alonzo, when he stopped in at Florence's, on the way to his lodgings. If Fowler had laid his fingers that night on the organ of selfesteem, he would assuredly have found it growing beneath his touch. "Heavens! how fortunate that you knew the lady, Walton," said the excited Theodore, address ing the young man who had introduced him to Miss Stanton. 66 Sixty thousand, I think you said-pity it is u't a hundred!-however, sixty is not so bad. I say, Walton, here's to the pretty heiress!" "But are you not too hasty in your conclusions?" said Walton, 66 why, man, you have just commenced storming the outworks, and already you count on a surrender." "There is an old saying, which I keep constantly in mind, my dear fellow, it is this: Faint heart never won fair lady.' I say, Walton, if you could accommodate me with a small loan for a week or two, until I get the money which I told you I should receive from the sale of my land in Texas, matters might go on more smoothly. Oh, while I think of it-what is the name of that plainlooking girl who sat beside Miss Stanton? I paid so little attention when you introduced me, that I did not hear what you called her." "Her name is Lansing, she is cousin to Miss bowed to Miss Stanton, and took a seat near her Stanton." cousin. "A poor relation, no doubt, you might see that in her quiet, timid manner. Does she live with her cousin? ?" "She stays with her when she visits the city. Miss Lansing's father is a farmer, I believe, living somewhere away back of Newburgh." "He may farm in the moon for what I care. I say, you'll not forget that trifle, Walton; I'll pay you with interest when I get my money from Texas." Miss Stanton was feeding her pet birds, and letting in the sunlight upon her hyacinths, for he it known, although Emily was sometimes playful as the frolick some Puck, her tastes were gentle as the dainty Ariel's. "Who can it be that sends these beautiful flowers, Kitty?" said she, bending over some of the loveliest treasures of Flora; "oh, if I only knew-if- "9 "If it should chance to be Gordon Graham," said Miss Lansing, with a sly look. Emily blushed, turned away her head, and was busier than ever with her birds and flowers. While thus engaged, Mr. Grimes and Mr. Walton sent up their names by the servant. Miss Stanton received them cordially, and after a few of the usual nothings which are generally discussed during a morning-call, Theodore Alonzo directed the attention of Walton to a superb bouquet, which bloomed in a vase of ruby-colored Bohemian glass, on a small marble table. "You are fond of flowers, I believe, Miss Stanton, and have some rare ones," said Walton, who wished to speed the wooing of his friend, on account of "that trifle;" "they are truly exqui. site; do you rear them in a hot-house?" "Oh no, some good fairy sent them here. But are they not beautiful? and so fragrant, too; they fill the room with their odor." Emily caught her cousin's gaze fixed upon her; she thought of Gordon Graham, and again the blood mounted to her cheek. The happy Theodore Alonzo was sure that both the blush and the emotion which had produced it, were caused by himself. Miss Stanton read his thought, and the spirit of mischief stirred within her. She spoke to Walton in monosyllables, leaving him to be enter "Hang that fellow!" said Theodore Alonzo, when he was once more in the street; "another half hour and I should have proposed." "And so, Miss Lansing," said Mr. Graham, continuing a conversation which had been interrupted by the departure of the gentlemen, "you approve of the romance which made Jane Eyre seek out a blind, maimed man, and unite her fate with his ?" "I do; Jane was a true-hearted woman. She had done right in tearing herself away from Mr. Rochester, when he was in the full pride of his manly vigor, because there would have been guilt had she remained; but when he was afflictedsuffering-alone, then Jane did right in devoting herself to him, and becoming his ministering angel." "Would she not have made a better choice in marrying the elegant Rivers? His eyes were perfect-he had not lost a hand-there was no scar on his brow-he was a man to be proud of-why did she not take him?" "Because he was little more to her than a speaking automaton-that is, if Jane Eyre could regard any one in such a light. In short, she did not love him, and she did love Fairfax Rochester; there's a woman's reason, Mr. Graham." A word here about Gordon Graham. He had been, nay, he was in love with Emily Stanton. "A something light as air-a look, A word unkind, or wrongly taken,” had produced distrust and seeming coldness beMoreover, Graham had lately met with an accident, which sadly disfigured his once handsome countenance; hence his warmth on the subject of Jane Eyre. tween them. To convince him that his coldness was a matter of indifference to her, Miss Stanton bestowed her attentions on Theodore Alonzo. Graham and Emily were at cross purposes, and in vain did Cousin Kitty seek to set them right. "By Jove! I am in luck!" exclaimed Theodore Alonzo, rushing into his friend's room at the Astor. "Sixty thousand-pity it was not a hundred! I say, Walton, we-Mrs. Grimes and myself-will travel. It is so genteel to say you have been abroad, and after a season or two in Paris, I LOVE NOT SADNESS. you are a better judge of the fashions. Is n't it curious Miss Stanton should have taken such a fancy to my gloves? I'll bring a good stock of the Alexandres' with me; for between you and I. I've but one new pair left, and these I must keep for my wedding." "So you are to marry Miss Stanton?" "To be sure I am. Yesterday I wrote to her, making a formal proffer of my heart and hand; to-day I received this note in reply." Walton took the note which Grimes gave him, and read: "I shall be at home this evening at eight o'clock." "Brief enough," said he, after turning the paper to see if nothing more was written on it; " and is it on the strength of this, that you think the lady intends marrying you?" "Certainly! Miss Stanton is a little eccentric, that is all. I say, Walton, did n't I tell you 'Faint heart never won fair lady?'" At the precise moment, the impatient lover rang the bell at Miss Stanton's. The door was immediately opened by black Pomp, and Theodore Alonzo congratulated himself on being so near the accomplishment of his wishes. He handed the negro his cloak and hat, in the latter of which were deposited his white kid gloves, and quickly ascended to the drawing room. Miss Stanton was there, alone. Theodore Alonzo bowed-advanced -and took her hand. Emily glanced at his head and smiled a mischievous smile-for a moment her rosy lips were parted as if to give vent to her imprisoned mirth. Theodore Alonzo dropped on one knee after the most approved melo-dramatic fashion. • Miss Lansing's hand! How could you for a moment suppose that I cared for her?" "Men, now-a-days, are such fortune-hunters, and Cousin Kitty's sixty thousand is so attractive, or at least would have been to any other man than you, that it is no wonder I was in doubt." "Then your fortunes are equal." "Equal! I do not understand you. Miss Lansing is heiress to sixty thousand dollars, and owns beside, one of the loveliest residences on the banks of the Hudson; while poor Emily Stanton is a dependant on her uncle, with nothing but the face, you, my dear sir, think pretty, for her fortune." Theodore Alonzo stood erect. "There appears to be some slight mistake, Miss Stanton; I 187 have always thought your cousin a very charming girl. She remains with you during the winter, I think." Here the conversation languished, and Theodore Alonzo, pleading an engagement, endeavored to make good his retreat, when Gordon Graham approached from an opposite apartment. Quickly, and with nervous trepidation, our hero descended the stairs, for the sight of Graham reminded him unpleasantly of sword-canes and pistols. In the hall Pomp handed him his hat-thero was but one glove in it-here was a dilemma ! "Pomp, you rascal, where is my other glove? They were both in my hat when I gave it to you." Pomp chuckled, but did not speak. Theodore Alonzo waxed fierce. He knit his brows aud looked daggers at the good-natured negro, who stood grinning and acting pantomime. "You stole it, you black rascal. Heavens!" exclaimed the perplexed dandy, as he held the odd glove between his finger and thumb; "heavens! the last of my Alexandres!" "Ki, massa, you bin gwine knock down dis here child for noffin. You jus like Pomp's old grandmudder, what go look here, look dar, look eberywhere for spectacles, an dey all de time on top her head." Why did you not tell me that before?" While taking the glove from where it was perched on his toupee, Theodore Alonzo thought he heard a footstep on the stairs. Open the door, I tell you," cried he, savagely. Pomp obeyed, and the next instant it was closed forever on Theodore Alonzo Grimes. The rain was pouring in torrents, and poor Grimes had forgotten his umbrella, in anxiety about his glove. He strode to Broadway, every omnibus was filled-every driver shook his headthere was no help for it-Theodore Alonzo must walk, and forlorn was his plight after threading his way from Waverley Place to Warren-street. Some two weeks afterwards, while he was thinking who he should next ask for the loan of a trifle, to be paid with interest from the proceeds of his land in Texas!-he took up a paper, and read this announcement "Married, this morning, in Grace Church, Gordon Graham, Esq., to Emily Stanton. At the same time and place, Henry Wharton, to Catharine, daughter of the Hon. Herbert Lansing." Theodore sighed deeply as he thought of the lost sixty thousand, and counted up the many ten ' dollarses he had uselessly paid Thorburn for rare and beautiful flowers. |