EMILE LE GRANDE'S DIARY.
"SATURDAY night--by Jove! Sunday morning, I suppose I should write
it, to be strictly truthful. And I guess that orthodox people would
roll their pious eyes, and declare that I had better be in bed at
this hour, instead of writing in my journal. But it makes no
difference. I do not know whether it's the seventh or the first day
that I should observe as a day of rest. One suits me as well as the
other. So here goes for my journal.
"November 29, Saturday night. Yes, I'll write Saturday night, for
the looks of the thing. Just returned from Bertha Levy's
tea-party--went with my sister. Would not have gone but for the hope
of meeting Leah Mordecai. In the main, I hate Jews, but I must admit
here, Journal, that Mrs. Levy is as elegant a woman as I have ever
met; and Bertha, too, is a cunning creature, not beautiful and not
my fancy exactly, but withal a taking girl.
"But of all the beautiful women that I have seen in years, Jewish or
Christian, there's not one can compare with Leah Mordecai--such hair
and such eyes are seldom given to woman. Helen says that her hair
measures four feet in length! What a queenly poise to that elegant
head!
"But I swear there's a sadness about her face that I do not
comprehend. She certainly knows nothing of sorrow. It does not arise
from want; for she, of all maidens in this Queen City, is farthest
from that. Old Ben Mordecai has untold wealth, and there comes in
the 'marrow of the nut.' Of course, he is as stingy as a Jew can be;
but not with his daughter. Who has more elegant silks, velvets, and
diamonds than she? Rich! rich! Ha! what a glorious thing to be said
of one; but aside from old Mordecai's money, Leah is a superb woman;
one need never be ashamed of such a wife. I should not be.
"I must set myself to work to ascertain the trouble that must dwell
in her heart so constantly to becloud her face. I'll bribe Helen to
find out for me. It may be some unfortunate love affair--who knows?
I think I would like to put any fellow out of the way that might be
seeking her hand. I believe I would kill him, if necessary. Perhaps,
dear Journal, I should not have written that terrible monosyllable,
but as you tell no tales, I'll let it stand.
"Now, I must to bed, and sleep, if I can--sleep away some of the
tedious hours that lie between me and another sight of the fair
Leah.
"Already the clock strikes two."
"And Mark was not there to-night, as I had hoped and expected,"
sighed Leah, as she stood before the elegant dressing-case of her
bed-chamber, and laid aside the articles of her toilet, after the
revel was done. "Only another disappointment! And yet, I know that
Bertha invited him, and lie promised me to attend. I should not have
worn these ear-rings and this brooch, which were my mother's, had I
known Mark would have been absent. Oh, my angel mother!"
A tear stole slowly down her face, and fell upon the shining pearls
that she still clasped between her fingers. "Why did not the grave
cover us both? Why was I left alone and so desolate in the world?
Can it be that Mark has deceived me--Mark Abrams, the only friend in
the world that I implicitly trust? God only knows. I remember now,
how he looked at my mother--what mockery to call that woman
mother!--when I asked him if he would attend the tea-party. I
remember furthermore, that she followed him to the door after he
bade us adieu; and what words she may have let slip there, Heaven
only knows! I have had a lurking suspicion for some time, that she
was planning to win Mark's love from me, and secure it for my sister
Sarah. What if she should succeed. Oh! how wretched I should be! It
has been a year, nearly, since Mark and I secretly pledged our love,
and he promised then that we should be married soon after I finished
at Madam Truxton's. How fondly I have looked forward to that coming
day! It has been the one single hope of my miserable life; and now
that the time draws so near, is it possible that my dream must
vanish into nothingness? Must this heart taste the bitterness of
deception, among its other sorrows? Miserable girl that I am! Surely
some evil star shone over the hour and place of my birth. But I'll
hope on for the best, and still continue to look forward to the
coming day, when my life shall be separated from the wretched woman
who now so darkly overshadows my existence. I'll hope on, even
though disappointment come at last." The soliloquy ended, Leah laid
away the pearls in the velvet-lined case, and turned to slumber and
dreams.
Mark Abrams, the early friend and lover of Leah, was the oldest son
of a talented and highly-esteemed rabbi, who presided over the most
flourishing and wealthy Jewish congregation in the Queen City; and
Mark himself was highly esteemed, as a young man of unimpeachable
integrity and unusual brilliancy of intellect.