We quote, by permission, from the files of the True Flag, a second sketch, contributed to its columns, by Olivia, alias Fanny Fern.

"Kate Stanley was a brilliant, sparkling brunette. Wo to the rash youth who exposed his heart to her fascinations! If he were not annihilated by the witching glance of her bright eye, he would be sure to be caught by the dancing dimple that played 'hide-and-seek' so roguishly in her rosy cheek, or the little rounded waist that supported her faultless bust, or the tiny feet that crept, mice-like, in and out from under the sweeping folds of her silken robe.

"I am sorry to say, Miss Kitty was an arrant coquette. She angled for hearts with the skill of a practised sportsman, and was never satisfied till she saw them quivering and bleeding at her feet; then, they might flounce and flutter, and twist and writhe at their leisure, it was no farther concern of hers. She was off for a new subject.

"One fine morning she sat listlessly in her boudoir, tapping one little foot upon the floor, and sighing for a new sensation, when a note was handed her. It ran thus:

"'Dear Kitty:—Our little cottage home is looking lovely, this 'leafy June.' Are you not weary of city life? Come and spend a month with us, and refresh heart and body. You will find nothing artificial here, save yourself!

'Yours,

Nelly.'

"'Just the thing,' said Kitty, 'but the girl must be crazy, or intolerably vain, to bring me into such close contact with her handsome lover—I might as well try to stop breathing as to stop flirting, and the country of all places, for a flirtation! The girl must be non-compos; however, it's her own affair, not mine;' and she glanced triumphantly at her beautiful face, and threaded her jewelled fingers through her long ringlets, and conquered him—in imagination!

"'When do you expect your friend?' said a laughing young girl to Nelly. 'From the descriptions I have had of her, your bringing her here, will be something akin to the introduction of Satan into Paradise. You wouldn't find me guilty of such a folly, were I engaged to your handsome Fitz. Now you know, Nelly dear, that although you are fascinating and intellectual, you have no pretensions to beauty, and there are few men who prize a gem unless it is handsomely set, however great its value. Now be warned in time, and send him off on a pilgrimage till her visit is over. I won't bet on his constancy!'

"'On the contrary,' said Nelly, as she rose slowly from the little couch where she was reclining, and her small figure grew erect and her large eyes lustrous, 'I would marry no man who could not pass through such an ordeal and remain true to me. I am, as you see, hopelessly plain and ungraceful; yet, from my earliest childhood, I have been a passionate worshipper of beauty. I never expected to win love—I never expected to marry—and when Fitz, with all his glorious beauty, sued for my hand, I could not convince myself that it was not all a bewildering dream. It was such a temptation to a heart so isolated as mine; and eloquently it plead for itself. When I drank in the music of his voice, I said, 'surely I must be lovely in his eyes; else why has he sought me?' Then, in my solitary moments, I said, sadly, 'there are none to dispute the prize with me here. He is deceiving himself; he is only in love with nature and the beautiful about us. He has mistaken his own heart.' Then again, I would ask myself, 'can nothing but beauty win a noble heart? are all my intellectual gifts valueless?' And still, Fitz unable to understand my contradictory moods, passionately urged his suit. It needed not that waste of eloquence; my heart was already captive. And now, by the intensity of that happiness of which I know myself to be capable, I will prove him. Kate's beauty—Kate's witchery, shall be the test! If his heart remains loyal to me, I am his. If not—' and her cheek grew pale, and large tears gathered slowly in her eyes—'I have saved myself a deeper misery.'

"Fitz Allan 'had travelled,' and that is generally understood to mean to go abroad and remain a period of time long enough to grow a fierce beard and fiercer moustache, and cultivate a thorough contempt for everything in your own country. This was not true of Fitz Allan. It had only bound him the more closely to home and friends. His splendid person and cultivated manners had been a letter of recommendation to him in cultivated society. He was no fop, and yet he was fully aware of these personal advantages. (What handsome man is not?) He had trophies of all kinds, to attest his skillful generalship; such as dainty satin slippers, tiny kid gloves, faded roses, ringlets of all colors, ebony, flaxen and auburn, and bijouterie without limit.

"Happy Fitz! What spell bound thee to the plain, but loveable Nelly? A nature essentially feminine; a refined, cultivated taste; a warm, passionate heart. Didst thou remember when thou listenedest to that most musical of musical voices, and sat hour after hour, magnetised by its rare witchery as it glanced gracefully and skillfully from one topic to another, that its possessor had not the grace and beauty of a Hebe or a Venus?

"It was a bright, moonlight evening. Fitz and Nelly were seated in the little rustic parlor opening upon the piazza. The moon shone full upon Kate, as she stood in the low door-way. Her simple white dress was confined at the waist by a plain, silken cord. Her fair, white shoulders rose gracefully from the snowy robe. Her white arms, as they were crossed upon her breast, or raised above her head to catch playfully the long tendrils of the woodbine, as the wind swept them past her forehead, gleamed fair in the moonlight, and each and all had their bewildering charm. She seated herself upon the low door-step. Song after song was borne upon the air. Her eyes now flashing with the enthusiasm of an Improvisatrice—then soft, and lustrous, and liquid, and—dangerous! Nelly's heart beat quick—a deep crimson spot glowed upon her cheek, and, for once, she was beautiful.

"Kate, apparently, took but little notice of the lovers, but not an expression that flitted across the fine face of Fitz Allan passed unnoticed by her. And she said proudly to herself—'I have conquered him!'

"And so the bright summer months passed by, and they rambled through the cool woods and rode through the winding paths and sang to the quiet stars in the dim, dewy night.

"'Fie! Mr. Fitz Allan! What would Nelly say, to see you kneeling here at my feet? You forget you are an affianced lover,' said the gay beauty, as she mockingly curled her rosy lip; 'when you address such flattering language to me!'

"'I only know that you are beautiful as a dream,' said the bewildered Fitz, as he passionately kissed the jewelled hand that lay unresistingly in his own.

"That night Fitz might be seen pacing his room with rapid strides, crushing in his hands a delicate note, in which was written these words:

'Farewell!

'Nelly.'"