Herald of the times. [volume] (Newport, R.I.) 1830-1846, 1842-02-17

a little whiie-,hen clasping her hards
together, she raised her head, and her
whole heat seemed To look up to heaven
in her meek and steadfas, gaze.
Still she sat there, almost without
stirring, except that, once or twice, she
looked down upon the green grass, and
her hand dropped, half forgetlully, half
playfuIly, among the flowers that grew
in wild luxuriance beside her, as il she
was pleased with, but scarcely knew she
noticed them. Just then the rich song
Of the nightingale burst upon the stiffness
Of the evening, and stole away her ear !;
and though her thoughts seemed yet to
linger on, about The subject which had
made her weep, she listened ill at last
she smiled I; and so, minute after minute
passed away, and gradually she forgot
all her trouble and the only expression
on her fair face was innocent gladness.
Let no one suppose, that IN this fair
country girl, we have met with any mai
den Of gentle birth, brought down TO n
low estate by the hard uses Of adversely !;
nor wonder OF her native village, gifted
with talents Of the highest order. Oh,
no Lucy was none Of these. What
was she : fair and happy maiden OF
low birth If to be born Of poor and
honest parents be low birth Of no ac-
complishmenis or educ alton, beyond read
ing, and-let me renember--yes, she
could write. She read well, for her
voice was full Of natural melody and
practice, and genuine feeling, and above
oil, pieiy, had made her very perfect.
Iucy's features were not beautiful, but
their modest, innocent expression, was
better than mere beauty. Her hands
were not the whilest in the world, though
they were delicately, nay, exquisltely
shaped their little palms might have
been softer but, if it might have been
said Of her, as of the fair and happy
inilk-maid, "she makes her hand hard
with labor" it might have been well ad
ded, "and her heart soft with pity ;"
for they who knew her, say she was the
kindest creature that ever lived, and
speak ofh gentle and winning courtc-
BUSINESS Of manner, that gave a charm
to every look and every word she ut
tered. But although she was one oI
natures own sweet gentlewomen, and
unaflectedly modest and pious, she was
only poor, uneducated country girl.
There was one, however, who soon
began to find new hope-new life,
might almost say-in the society oI
Lucy one who, in spite Of all the pride
or arisiocracy OF habits, and his preju-
dices, began to feel it u privilege to be
addressed as a familiar friend, by the
pure minded maiden who felt, in hi.
inmost heart, the influence of her med.
est, cheerful piety and paid her, from
his heart, the homage OF respect and
love, that was the sweeter from being
half made up Of gratitude.
He could not he p smiling, when he
made his proposals in due form to the
relations of his sweet Lucy for they
did not choose TO have their child thrown
away upon one who, for what they knew
to the contrary, might be little better
than beggar or sort Of (they did not
quite say the word) "vagabond." They
doubted, and questioned, and wavered
aud questioned him again, till the Earl
began TO feel uncomfortable, and to STAN
mer and blush and thus, in fact, to
make them really suspicious for he
had quite forgotten to provide against
this most probable issue Of his suit to
them.
"You see," said an old uncle, at last
who was the head Of the family, and the
best spokesman, 'you may be very
good sort OF young man, and ] have
nothing to say against you but you
are, or rather have been, till now, when
you're plucking up bit, poor, sckly,
idle body and suppose you fall i'll, or
take TO no kind Of employ and have moth
ing coming in ofyour own-why, Lucy's
fifty pounds, and the hundred that shall
leave her, when, please Heaven, ] die,
will 60 but very little way. tell you
what" he said, "brother and sister,"
(turning to Lucy's parents and looking
very wise, "don't be in hurry to give
your consent ; Lucy, though | say it, is
as good girl as any in the land, and fit
for lord-yes ! | say it again (ihough
you seem to smile,) young man--ht for
any lord in the land"
Lucy had been very busily plucking
the withered leaves from geranium,
which her lover had given her but now
she turned round, pale and trembling,
for she feared the effect OF her uncle's
harangue upon her father, who was apt
to be as positive as his brother. She
trembleJ, and her heart ihrobbed with
agitation, for she cared not if he whom
she loved were penniless but she felt,
that without the consent Of her parents
(servants of God, and kind parents, as
they both were she could not marry
him. She turned, as gentle, loving
daughters will, on all such occasions, to
her own tender mother, aud she had not
to speak her mother could read her
looks, and she could rot resist the tears
which rose so suddenly into the soft ewes