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THE MOTHER'S MISTAKE.

BY MRS. ELLIS.

CHAPTER I.

A joyful exclamation, almost simultaneously uttered, was the first sound which broke upon the silence of an elegant and newly-furnished drawing-room, where a recently married couple exulted in the happy feeling that they were now at their own home. The words in which they expressed their satisfaction were familiar and common-place enough; but, in the present instance, not without meaning, for an exploring tour had just been made around the house, garden, and premises,

VOL. IX.-NO. XCIX.

and the truly happy couple had seated themselves in an apartment where nothing seemed left for the most fastidious taste to desire. It was not that the residence was particularly spacious or magnificent. If the truth must be told, it was only a suburban villa, very similar to hundreds of what are called genteel residences in the vicinity of London; but it was so perfect in its furniture and general equipments, all having been arranged in reference to harmony, rather than splendour-to comfort, rather than display, that the young wife must have been deficient in feeling, as well as in taste, not to have viewed with grateful satisfaction the cheerful welcome afforded by such a home.

Those who imagine that a bride should only be accounted happy whose home is a baronial mansion, surrounded by parks and pleasure-grounds, will probably smile at the idea of our little villa being the scene of any kind of enjoyment worth writing about; and yet, even this snug residence had its fountain, terrace, and portico; its grassy lawn and winding walks; its bower, and its weeping willow; all as picturesque, in their way, as art could make them; but all on a scale so minute as to render the ingenuity of the design as wonderful as the taste with which it was carried out.

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It was the general grouping, then, of this home scene-its completeness and harmony, which so forcibly arrested the attention of the beholder: nor was the exulting husband afraid to put his few familiar words in the form of a question, as if, in fact, inquiring-"Is this not sufficient?" or, "have you any wish beyond this?" To which the wife replied with equal frankness, "You have indeed done all, and more than all, I could have imagined, to make me happy."

So far so good; we will not, under present circumstances, institute the ungracious inquiry, how many newly-married couples have sat down thus satisfied at first, yet found, in an incredibly short space of time, that a thousand things were needed which they felt no want of then, and that much of what looked so perfect on first inspection, required to be altered or removed.

The reader, however, has little of this kind of discontent to apprehend from our happy couple, whose tendency of mind was rather in an opposite direction; so that, upon the whole, they were disposed to be exceedingly well pleased with their outward circumstances, with each other, and with themselves. "Comfortable people," they might very properly be designated, and everything around and about them was in keeping with this epithet.

Mr. Clifton, for that was the gentleman's name, was a city merchant, the son of a city merchant, and highly respected amongst his fellow merchants as a shrewd, active, and promising young man. His ambition was reasonable, as the world goes; for he only wanted to be rich and comfortable, and these results he seemed as likely to secure as half the men, or gentlemen, with whom he was in the habit of transacting business.

Mrs. Clifton,-and with her we shall have more to do, was in all respects a fitting match for such a husband. She had a comfortable amount of property of her own, and the same might be said of her beauty, her talents, and her virtues in general. In none of these could it be pronounced, that her qualifications either exceeded, or fell short of, the comfortable. Only one exception-one little exception, on the side of excess, must be

noticed; and we do so with delicacy, scarcely knowing whether this peculiarity ought to be classed as an excellence, or as a fault. Mrs. Clifton was eminently prospective. In all she did, in all she said, and in all she thought about, the future was especially considered. Pity it was, that while so many were wanting this essential requisite to common prudence, Mrs. Clifton should have a little— just a little too much of it. But so it

was.

At first this characteristic looked amiable enough, for the kind lady cared for other people's future as well as for her own. At first this peculiarity looked pru-, dent, and promising in the highest degree; for all changes and accidents in life seemed to be provided for by this far-sighted woman, who had a resource for every emergency, and a plan for everything likely or unlikely to take place.

"What a treasure of a wife Mr. Clifton has found!" was, consequently, the frequent exclamation of those who called on the newly-married pair; and, "If you were only like Mrs. Clifton," was the invidious remark of more than one discontented lord of creation, on finding his own domestic future not provided for according to his taste.

And no doubt this characteristic trait was a great excellence in the young wife, as it would be in any wife either young or old, only it wanted one requisite for ensuring any amount of successful results-that the prospective vision should be true, as well as far-reaching; or the mistakes it is liable to make may fatal in proportion to its extent.

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The lady in question, however, did not think she could very easily make any mistakes, because she always looked at a subject in every point of view, turned it over and over, examined, reconsidered it, and then acted upon the probabilities of the case, as she believed them to be arrived at by this minute and careful examination.

With this prospective vision, Mrs. Clifton soon began to look upon her little villa, and, although as a whole it was perfect for the time being, there was an endless variety of circumstances to be considered, all bearing strict relation to the villa, and any one of which might require some material alteration in its present arrangements.

At first, as we have said, this provisional faculty in the young wife appeared exceedingly hopeful and satisfactory; and Mr. Clifton exulted in the certainty, that his future, and that of his whole household, would be taken care of. Besides which, sufficient time had not yet passed to bring to light any glaring instance of miscalculation; so that all went well, and even triumphantly, for twelve months, at least, with the exception of a little more bustle than the husband saw to be absolutely necessary -a little more of the machinery of his wife's contrivances kept visibly at work, than he regarded as consistent with that domestic repose which all men seek in their suburban homes, on escaping from the dust and turmoil of business in a crowded city.

With these slight exceptions, all went well, until the wife had a dream-a memorable and important dream it might have been; but, occurring to one who trusted implicitly to her waking senses, and who kept her senses rather more than usually awake, it only faded away, like all those other dreams whose very evanescence has made them a proverb from the creation of the world until the present time.

The dream we speak of took place on the eve of a great domestic event in the Clifton villa-an event which might reasonably justify any amount of female calculation being set to work upon it, or any amount of imagination, investing the future with an interest unsurpassed by any which this life affords.

Mrs. Clifton's future would have been comparatively blank and empty, and, consequently, much of her native talent would have been unemployed, had no addition to her family cares been anticipated. So large an amount of prospective genius, however, was not destined to be thrown away. Additional cares, and additional joys were expected; and oh! what a field now opened what a day now dawned upon the far calculating wife! But in the mean time she had a dream a very foolish dream she considered it, when wide awake; and although it recurred again and again, and often mixed itself up in her after calculations, it was only to be cast aside as utterly worthless -a vision of the night, and nothing more.

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The dream was strangely imaginative

for so practical a thinker, for it presented itself in a somewhat supernatural form. The sleeper had closed her eyes with such feelings locked within her breast, as none but an anxious mother can understand. She had commended herself, her husband, her household, and all that should ever be hers, to the care of a kind and watchful Providence, and with that she had slept. Very naturally, she soon fancied herself watching over an infant in its sleep, and very beautiful it looked to her, for it was her own child-very beautiful, had it been any child, for what spectacle can be more so than a sleeping infant? Gazing on the child, it seemed to the dreamer that a group of angels stood near, looking with benign expression of countenance upon the slumbering babe. She wished to ask the leader of the shining band if he came with any message for her respecting the future training, or the future destiny of that child; but ever as she began to speak, he placed his finger on his lip, and then pointed to the couch where the infant lay, as if to indicate that the attention of the mother must be centred there, and confined alone to what she should behold.

To comply with this intimation, she needed no further hint, after perceiving that some mystery was about to be disclosed; for, as she watched with intense anxiety, there appeared to be a misty curtain moving slowly over the head of the little sleeper. Gradually this filmy veil was entirely removed, and beneath lay the living brain of the future being, all spread out like a map, so minute in its various and distinctive characteristics and capabilities, and yet so clearly marked, that the eye could, without difficulty, discover the smallest vein through which the blood of life was flowing.

Nor was this spectacle appalling to the beholder, but beautiful, most beautiful; for all the inner structure and the secret office of each portion of the brain was brought distinctly into view. the very working of energy and life in all displayed

the delicate and mysterious association, as it were, of soul and body-of nerve and muscle-of will and act: all these were made manifest, so that under the observant gaze might be seen to grow, as it appeared, out of nothingness, the future development of what each portion of the

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