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"Par

the very act of opening the seal, when the Baron indignantly sprang to him, tore the paper from his hands, and dashed it on the ground. "Insolent," cried he, "have you forgotten what is due to your lord and master? has your long independence so much spoiled you, that you dare play the master to me?" don me, gracious master," answered Wrock with bitter irony, "pardon me that I forget for a moment, the respect due to my master and benefactor; you should attribute it to my grey hairs." He pronounced the word "benefactor in a tone which cut Robert to the heart. After a short deliberation he turned towards the castellan, who was on the point of leaving the room. Wrock," he cried, "stay! if I have offended you, I am sorry for it; but you were in the wrong. Why are you so anxious to know the contents of this letter, which cannot concern you?" "Perhaps it may, gracious master" returned Wrock, "if I dare trust the presentiment, which speaks within me, the paper is to no one so important as to myself." The Baron looked at him with a gloomy expression. "What is the purport of your fereboding?" asked he anxiously. "The same, gacious master," replied Wrock, "the same of which your own feelings can inform you. May God forgive n.e, if I am unjust-but"—he left off. Robert stood some time with his face half-averted, as if he was trying to avoid the glance of Wrock; it ieemed as if he was endeavouring to find strength and words to express a painful subject. He suddenly turned towards the castellan, held out his hand. and said: "Peter Wrock! you have suffered severely, but not more severely than myself. Pardon me, that I brought misfortune into your path of life." "Yes, gracious master," replied Wrock, his voice almost choked with grief, "I forgive you, as I hope God will pardon me, but allow me to break this seal, that what is concealed may be brought to light." The Baron silently assented, upon which Wrock went to the light, and with trembling hand broke the seal. He had scarcely cast his eyes over the writing, when a piercing shriek was heerd through the whole building. The castellan, in his fright, let the paper fall, and would have hastened out at the door when it suddenly opened and Beatrice rushed into the apartment. Her white night-gown was stained with blood, and a stream was yet flowing from the vein in her arm which had been opened, as in her paroxysm she had torn away the bandage. Barbara, who should have watched by her couch, had sunk to sleep overcome by fatigue, while Beatrice was yet slumbering, The old housekeeper was suddenly awakened by a noise, and, opening her eyes, saw the invalid with loosened bandages and covered with blood, groping about the chamber. On Barbara's shrieking, the unhappy woman ran out at the door, fled with winged haste through several rooms, and at last rushed breathless into Robert's apartment. Struck with horror the castellan approached her, and tried to restrain her, but in vain ; she tore herself away with the wildest gestures, snatched up the paper which the castellan had just opened, and cried with a voice that pierced his very marrow, "What do you want with this? I tell you, I did it! It is the child's blood, with which I am stained, see! see! how could its little heart have so much blood? ha, ha, ha!" Her laugh was so wild and piercing that the walls of the apartment re-echoed. She now perceived Barbara, Josephine," she shrieked, "I

who had followed her.

66

know you well, though you are old and ugly-that is as it should he, I would see you so-now you cannot rob me of my husband. Come! we will be reconciled!" She sprang towards Barbara, and would have folded her in her arms, and as the terrified housekeeper avoided her, she rushed madly towards Robert, who was stand. ing motionless with horror, embraced him with both arms, and fell with a piercing shriek to the ground. No medical aid could restore her to her senses; the shock had terminated her life.

The paper which this unhappy lady had written disclosed the state of her mind. Being united to Robert von Ahran by the ties of kindred, their parents had destined them for each other. Beatrice, accustomed from her infancy to consider herself as Robert's wife, harboured an ardent love for him, which he appeared to return; but the proud and domineering character of Beatrice was not calculated to captivate a youth like Robert. His heart had turned, with the most passionate love, to the daughter of his castellan; and forgetting all decorum, and all the duty he owed to his father, who was then living, he was privately married to her. Their union remained concealed from his father and the world; Beatrice alone, who had long been jealous of Josephine, discovered the secret. Her proud passionate disposition could not endure the affront of disappointed love, and the fierce desire of revenge took the place of her affections. But her most envenomed hatred fell upon Josephine, whom she regarded as her deadliest enemy, and the disturber of her happiness. To destroy her was always the subject of her reflections, and the better to cary her plans of vengeance into effect, after the death of her parents, she chose the house of her uncle as a temporary residence. While yet she concealed her hostile intentions under the mask of kindness, she associated herself with an old woman who, besides Barbara, was one of the household servants. Though report spoke ill of her, Barahra had always taken her part, because she was a useful assistant in her domestic affairs, and because her own dispositson was too honest to suspect the extent of her wickedness. This old woman became the hellish instrument, which Beatrice made use of, to bring destruction on her successful rival. By her she learned that Josephine was the mother of a son, whose birth had delighted both his parents. Notwithstanding the deep secrecy in which this circumstance was involved, Josephine occupying the remotest part of this spacious edifice, where no one visited her, but her father, her husbaud, and her faithful Barbara; yet many reports were spread of her connection with Robert, though no one imagined she was his lawful wife. Josephine, offended by these reports which came to her ear, began to repent the imprudent step which she had taken, and entreated Robert to make it known that they were lawfully united, and thus give her an honorable station in society. Robert represented to her, that, while his father was living, she could not appear as his wife, and that he would rather die, than endure his father's curse.

From this moment Josephine treated her husband with visible coldness. In vain did Robert endeavour to calm her offended feelings, she abrubtly repelled him, and her father whose honour was wounded, contributed, by his condnet, still more to the growing alienation of the married pair. Robert, to escape from these painful circumstances, left his father's house, with

His absence

the intention of travelling for some time. gave Beatrice and her assistant free room to carry on their projects. Still, at times, would better feelings rise in the heart of Beatrice, but her darkened soul refused to harbour them; her mind had lost its proper balance, and overcome by her passions, she fell into the precipice which was open before her. Josephine's child was found murdered in its cradle; its little heart seemed to have been pierced by a small instrument, Barbara was the first who discovered the horrible fact, while Josephine was asleep, and her screams informed the other servants of what had happened. Josephine was incapable of uttering a sound; pale and without shedding a tear she gazed on her dead child, and held it in her arms, till the officers of justice entered the room, more closely to investigate the frightful occurrence. Under one of the child's pillows was found. stained with blood, a golden bodkin, which Josephine had been accustomed to wear in her hair. That this was the instrument of murder, was proved by the smallness of the wound; Josephine was arrested as the murderess of her own child, and a painful examination was hanging over her head. The suspicion of her being the murderess was increased by the belief that Robert had deserted her, and her crime was attributed to the despair which was occasioned by his infidelity. The unfortunate Josephine could not bear the reproach, and on the third day after her arrest, she was found dead in prison. She had strangled herfelf with her silk handkerchief, which was found twisted about her neck.

He

When the old Baron von Ahran heard of the dreadful occurrence, and of the part which his son had acted in it, he was struck by a fit of apoplexy from the shock. Beatrice fled the house which must ever have awakened painful reminiscences, and her assistant, the cursed old woman, died soon after. Thus the unhappy father of the innocent victim Josephine, and the faithful Barbara, were left alone in the Castle, where they passed their lonely and melancholy days, in praying that Josephine's innocence, of which they were both convinced, might finally be brought to light. Robert while abroad, had heard of the fate of Josephine and his child, and grief and horror had thrown him on a sick bed, from which he but slowly recovered. never regained his peace of mind; uncertain whether he should deem Josephine guilty or innocent, and tortured by the consciousness that he was the author of so many evils, he restlessly wandered from place to place for seven years, until his fate led him home, at that point of time when the tragical scene we have just been describing took place. The writing, which Beatrice had left, contained an acknowledgment of her guilt, in broken and confused sentences indeed, but intelligible enough to set her own guilt and Josephine's innocence beyond a doubt. It certainly was not her own hand which had committed the crime, but the old woman who was allied with her, had executed the infernal, deed. But vengeance did not sleep, its voice was heard, first weak, and then louder and louder in her guilty heart. She never afterwards could find repose; it seemed as if the bed was burning with fiery coals, on which she after a short period of self-forgetfulness appeared to be struggling. Visions of blood stalked with threatening aspect before her, and forms like furies persecuted her with their hellish laughs, and

aroused her from her short and painful sleep. Her strength sank beneath this continued inward contest, her look became timid and wild, and her blooming colour faded. In vain did her anxious brother, under whose roof she lived, inquire into the cause of her dejection, she avoided his inquiries, and shunned the sight of him. At last impelled by an irresistible feeling, she left his house, and fled unattended to the spot where she first appeared to us, and where she ended her guilty life amid the most awful mental conflicts. "Praised be the Almighty," cried Peter Wrock when he had read this portentous paper, "Praised be God, who has listened to the prayers I have so long made, and has brought my child's innocence to light. I always knew that she was not the murderess of her child. May God be merciful to her enemies, and forgive them their sins!" "And may he forgive me," said the baron, deeply affected, "that I could be mistaken in Josephine! But what human eye is clear enough to distinguish truth from appearances! Poor Josephine you shall have reparation! And you too, old father," he continued to Wrock " you shall be satisfied; I will make it publicly known, that Josephine was my lawful wife, that she was innocent of the crime laid to her charge. The place of her interment shall be changed, her ashes shall rest in a magnificent coffin, a splendid monument shall be raised over her grave, and the world shall be informed by letters of gold inlaid in the marble that she fell a guiltless sacrifice to hatred and wickedness." "Master," said Wrock "I should prefer a simpler monument, and it would accord better with the quiet disposition of my Josephine; a few weeping willows with their branches hanging over her grave, and a plain cross of black marble with the inscription, She died under suspicion but God brought her innocence to light.' That would please me! Then perhaps many a one unjustly accused might read the words, and leave her grave with the consoling hope that sooner or later his hour of triumph must come. Yet let all be done as my master pleases. For this unhappy lady," he added, pointing to the body of Beatrice," for her I entreat my gracious master to cause masses to be sung, that her soul may find rest in death, since she has expiated the crime she committed on earth, by the torments of hell. And let us pray that God may prevent the spirit of darkness from approaching us in evil hours, for the heart of man is weak, and the strongest may fall under temptation.

LONDON AND PARISIAN FASHIONS.

DRESSES.-We now approach a period, dedicated in the fashionable circles to routes, balls, festive assemblies, the opera, par excellence, and all those gaieties by which a London season is characterized, which turn the young head giddy in the anticipation, and cause to ache in the fruition, but which those who judiciously and temperately enjoy the advantages of high society, turn to their own advantage, as a means of pleasing and delightful relaxation.

A fresh impetus is given to our national industry, and the ingenuity of our artizans, as well as of our continental rivals, and the wants of the fashionable toilette are supplied with a renewed energy.

The notice of splendid materials, which we give in another column, and the subjoined selection of toilettes for the court, the ball room, &c. will sufficiently illus trate the splendid preparations for the exigencies of fashion.

A peculiarly fine white cachemere dress, open in front, was edged with a double row of silver lace, and fixed by three rows, equally apart, of roses trémières, intermixed with épis de diamant; the under-dress of white moire was embellished with a flounce of silver lace.

A tunic of gold lace, caught up at the corners by bouquets of diamonds, which also ornament the corsage and sleeves.

A dress of velours grenat had the front of the corage in a lozenge form, surrounded with embroidery of pearls and diamonds, the little sleeves had a double ruffle of gold lace, caught up within by a nœud of pearls and diamonds. Isabeau in gold lace, with long barbes falling to the cienture.

A rose-colored crape dress, had in front two bouillons of tulle, forming tablier and sprinkled with little roses pompons, which also embellished the coiffure behind, the front of which had a rivière of diamonds.

A white tulle tunic, was surrounded by a double fold, in which was a ribbon of rose-colored tulle; the under jupon of tulle also had two folds crossed by a ribbon ; the sleeves were short, with a rose-colored ribbon passed through the edge, and ornamented with three rows of talle.

A rose-colored crape dress, surrounded by a garland of oreilles d'ours, which mounted up the dress towards the ceinture, had a couple of rows of lace proceeding obliquely down the corsage, and spirally round the deeves, which reached nearly to the elbow, beyond which a blond ruffle fell.

Another tunic was surrounded by a garland of convolvuluses in velvet, of the color of the dress, and with golden foliage.

A very elegant dress was composed of a rose-colored crape tunic, over a satin slip, crossed in front of the Corsage with a rouleau of satin and silver tissue intermixed; the montans and circumference of the tunic were ornamented with silver lace, and the bottom of the under-dress had three flounces of the same; the sleeves were ornamented with the same to correspond.

A white tulle dress was made in precisely the same style, and ornamented in a similar manner with gold tissue and lace.

A white crape dress had a large chef d'or attached to each side of the skirt, raising it in drapery and displaying the under-dress, adorned with a large bouillon of gauze intermixed with flowers. Flowers of the same kind were intermixed with the hair.

A tunic of tulle-illusion, very short, was worn over an under-dress of the same, the latter had a fringe of white feathers, while the tunic was ornamented with a garland of roses: the sleeves were embellished in a corresponding manner, having a fringe of feathers, headed with a garland of roses.

HATS AND CAPS.-In dress hats, it may be said that the same recherché taste to its fullest extent is exhibited, as in the selection of the materials and style of the evening and ball dress, and the predeliction for antique associations full as strong-this is so fully studied and understood at the present day, that the question is

raised in the choice of an evening hat, from what century or era this branch of costume shall be derived, so as to suit the historical taste of the wearer, the contour of features, &c. Thus the hats of the Moyen-age, Agnes Sorel, Jane Grey, Isabeau, Renaissance, are introduced in our fashionable saloons, and our historical recollections are revived on every side. The points of these, elongated to the neck, are usually terminated by pearl acorns, nœuds in bijouterie or ribbons, &c.

Little caps are worn very much, and various materials may occasionally be seen, differing from those which the eye has been ordinarily accustomed. Lace, blond, &e. form usual accompaniments, with feathers of the most delicate kind, small flowers, and finely shaded ribbons.

The description of coiffures, whose name we borrow from the French, petits-bords, are great favorites, they sometimes allow the hair to be seen behind, and sometimes not, the latter suits the more youthful.

A small velvet body, with blond bouillons, and orna. mented with garlands of gold foliage and pearls, is also a favorite; the back is frequently graced by a velvet bavolet rather raised, and the form of this contributes greatly to the effect of the tournure of the back view. Very light velvet branches form frequently a small kind of diadem form in front, and tufts on each side; the same style, with ribbon coques, suits the negligé cap better.

Some modes for the head, of a peculiarly light and graceful description with many toilettes, are composed of a barbe of blond or English point lace, which may be fixed, or appear to be fixed, by two gold or diamond pins on each side; on the sides are disposed bouquets of flowers, or ribbon coques, which form tufts and sustain the ends of the lace.

MATERIALS AND COLORS.-The fabrics that now grace the fair élite of the fashionable circles, certainly if not unequalled, were never surpassed at any former era of fashionable splendour and luxury. Effects are now accomplished, which were not even contemplated, in the design and arrangement of the pattern; and the pliability combined with strength, and softness with substance, that are now introduced in the manufacture of dress materials, render them all that the most innovating spirit and fastidious taste could desire, or even contemplate.

The good understanding of the two countries, the foremost in civilization and in the perfection of the useful arts, has contributed largely to this perfection of ladies' dress materials, and the respective looms of France and England continually contribute, not only to the improvement of each, but to the reciprocal advantage of the belles of each country.

Formerly a worked stuff was considered beautiful, now it is but simple; and to fit it for full dress we must have the ground sprinkled with bouquets, having the appearance of gold or silver embroidery. Many of these are striped in two shades, and on each stripe a different pattern. Others have branches or sprigs with gold foliage, waving in a serpentine direction across, roses, violets, &c.

The Montespan, the Pompadour, the Medici, names calling forth associations connected with the palmy days in the time of our ancestors, aptly characterize the materials which bear their name.

The East gives it name to a number of the splen. did productions of the day. The white velvet epinglé

worked in gold, and rose-colored in silver, which we have elsewhere alluded to. The reps worked in silk, so splendid and well harmonized, that it seems to stand out in relief.

Our own grandees and leaders of ton also baptize some of our most elegant and splendid materials, which our space will not allow us to recapitulate.

Besides the numerous materials moirés, satinés, veloutés, some new and beautiful materials have recently appeared at the Parisian capital.

The satins Fontange, in which gold and silver are intermixed with flowers worked and shaded on a magnificent ground, are seen in most splendid variety at our chief fashionable marts.

Other varieties of silk, of light and beautiful texture for evening wear, gauzes, crapes, tulles of all shades and patterns for ball dress, silken and woollen materials, plain or figured, for visiting or reception toilets, include the materials of every kind employed in the present fashionable female costume of the day.

DESCRIPTION OF THE PLATES.

PLATE 1.

FIGURE 1.-EVENING DRESS.-Tulle dress, draped in the upper part of the corsage, and pointed at the ceinture; the sleeve extending tight to the elbow, with three rows of puffings and lace ruffle hanging very low, the front of the dress is ornamented en tablier with lace, the bottom row being very deep. A bouquet is placed on the side even with the top of the volan. The hair ornamented very simply with pearls.

FIGURE 2.-EVENING DRESS.-Mousseline de laine dress, corsage en pointe, draped over the bosom, divided in the middle, where a rose is placed. A narrow ribbon ornament, forming a continuation of small bows, is placed above the sleeve, which is formed of two bouffans, with a ruffle depending from it; the skirt is made full; a serpentine ornament of the same material as the dress with a frill edging, is placed in a double row upright from the bottom of the dress, and lessening to the top which reaches above the knee and is surmounted by a nœud with ends. Velvet petit bord with feathers. FIGURE 3.-WALKING DRESS.-French merino redingote made high in the neck with three biais folds from the shoulders to the ceinture forming a V. The sleeve has three frills of the same material as the dress and full to the wrist; the front of the skirt is ornamented with full biais folds. Capote of gros de Naples with ruche and ribbon ornaments.

Tulle caps ornamented with flowers and lace barbes Velvet hat sloping gradually back to the neck, with feathers arranged over the crown, falling full one over the other.

PLATE II.

FIGURE 1.-EVENING DRESS.-A Pekin-satin dress, with a lace double-fall; sleeve made close-fitting to the elbow, with a sabot at the middle and termination, or namented with a nœud and finished off by a double silken cord and tassels; rows of nœuds with tassels are placed down the front of the dress in the tablier form. A beret hat of velvet ornamented with feathers. FIGURE 2 & 3.-FANCY BALL DRESSES.- Figured

satin and tulle with velvet body. The front in the tunic style with long flowing sleeves being a Turkish costume, the other a la paysanne with short tight sleeves and profusely decorated with roses.

FIGURE 4 —DINNER DRESS.-Tulle dress close-fitting corsage, pointed, the upper part ornamented with three folds, and confined by an equal number of brooches; the sleeve short formed of three bouffans ornamented with ribbon uœuds having very long ends A row of rosettes proceeds from the ceinture down to the hem which it entirely traverses, the skirt is partly caught up by a noeud with long ends. The hair adorned with roses. Hats of velvet having feathers and flowers as ornaments, a bordering of swan's down forms an addition to that on the right.

Turban of embroidered cachemere with gold fringes, having a paradise feather.

Tocque-caps of worked net with velvet bodies, that on the left having feathers as ornament. PLATE III.

FIGURE 1.-BALL DRESS.-Striped challi dress, half high mounting corsage en pointe, embroidered with roses and foliage on the bust; the skirt terminated all round the hem by a double ruche caught up in the front part by a large rose and sprigs of foliage; the sleeves bouffanted and terminating in a sabot at the elbows. The coiffure having a simple bouqnet placed on one side of the head.

FIGURES 2 & 3.-FANCY BALL COSTUMES.-The bodies of each of velvet, crape and tulle for the skirts.

FIGURE 4.-OPERA DRESS.-Figured satin dress, the corsage reaching half way up the neck, having a rich blonde mantilla fall, prolonged down the skirt in two rows so as to figure an apron, a deep blond flounce headed by a rouleau of same material as the dress; the sleeve which is nearly tight to the upper part of the arm, is slashed lengthways, and is finished by a blond sabot. A velvet beret hat with long twisted feathers.

Velvet and satin bonnets with paradise feathers and trimmed with swan's down, the brims very wide and reaching low down the face.

Muslin cap ornamented with a garland of small roses. PLATE IV.

FIGURE 1.-EVENING DRESS-Tulle dress, with designs of flowers and foliage applique, the skirt adorned with flowers and lace down the front in the robe style, the sleeve tight to the elbow with a bouffan and long rue; the top of the corsage is ornamented with a small puffing which is tightened in at intervals by a silken cord carried over spirally. The coiffure ornamented with feathers.

FIGURE 2.-FANCY DRESS COSTUME.-Satin body, crape skirt, corsage à la paysanne; skirt gathered up at half the distance to the ceinture in large nœuds. Velvet hat and feathers.

FIGURE 3.-EVENING DRESS.-Crape dress, close fitting corsage; the skirt which has a train is caught up at the side by a precious stone set as a brooch, surrounded by flowers; those ornaments continue to the ceinture and are likewise observable on the short sleeve which is caught up in a similar manner; a blond fall ornaments the top of the corsage. The hair is ornamented with roses and pearls.

Hats in velvet and gros de Tours ornamented with feathers of the ostrich and bird of paradise.