e passionate resolutions he formed from day to day of
amendment, were broken, like the light twigs that grow by the mountain
wayside.

He had looked upon the wine when it was red, and found in its dregs the
sting of the adder. He had participated in the maddening excitement of
the gaming-table, from which remorse and horror pursued him with
scorpion lash. He had entered the "chambers of death"--though avenging
demons guarded its threshold. Poor, tempted Louis! poor, fallen Louis!
In how short a space has the whiteness of thy innocence been sullied,
the glory of thy promise been obscured! But the flame fed by oxygen soon
wastes away by its own intensity, and ardent passions once kindled, burn
with self-consuming rapidity.

We have not followed Louis in his wild and reckless course since he left
his father's mansion. It was too painful to witness the degeneracy of
our early favorite. But the whole history of the past was written on his
haggard brow and pallid cheek. It need not be recorded here. He had
thought himself a life-long alien from the home he had disgraced, for
never could he encounter his father's indignant frown, or call up the
blush of shame on Helen's spotless cheek.

But one of those mighty drawings of the spirit--stronger than chains of
triple steel--that thirst of the heart for pure domestic joy, which the
foaming goblet can never quench--that immortal longing which rises up
from the lowest abysses of sin, that yearning for pardon which stirred
the bosom of the Hebrew prodigal, constrained the transgressing Louis to
burst asunder the bonds of iniquity, and return to his father's house.

"I am glad you have come alone, brother," repeated Helen, repressing the
sigh that quivered on her lips.

"Who did you expect would be my companion?" asked Louis, putting back
the long, neglected locks, that fell darkly over his temples.

"I feared Bryant Clinton would return with you," replied Helen,
regretting the next moment that she had uttered a name which seemed to
have the effect of galvanism on Mittie--who started spasmodically, and
lifted the screen before her face. No one had asked for Clinton, yet all
had been thinking of him more or less.

"I have not seen him for several weeks," he replied, "he had business
that called him in another direction, but he will probably be here
soon."

Again Mittie gave a spasmodic start, and held the screen closer to her
face. Helen sighed, and looked anxiously towards he