Portage sentinel. [volume] (Ravenna, Ohio) 1845-1854, 1851-12-15
9. E An N Y =
A TALE Of REAL LIFE.
By GRACE GREENWOOD.

Fanny Austin stood a: the, window
while the sun was sei,ing-an open French
window. whose flowing white curtains half
hid the slender form Of the young girl
She was not looking towards the west,
though the sunset pageant was beautiful to
behold she was looking towards the east,
not at the shadowy sky, not at the dark
forest-crowned hills, but far away down
the dusty road, with her lovely, smiling,
expec,ant eyes. The gold and crimson
sunset passed away, the dews and shades
of twilight came on-and still Fanny stood
at the window. A servant enter ed and
lit the lamps, and, as he went out, looked
back at the fair girl with pleasant, know.
ing smile; then Fanny's mother came in
quietly arranged a slightly disordered table
looked at her abstracted daughter. silent.
ly, but with . fond, proud, most motherty
expression, and passed from the room. -
The twilight deepened, and the stars Of
a glorous June evening came out in heav.
en-.
Fanny steps from the open window into
the piazza, ana bends forward, as listen-
ing intently.,. Surely she hears the distant
gallop Of horse! Yes, now it comes
across the bridge, down the ravine! now it
aseends the hill-new comes the CLEAN Of
9, white horse dashing up the road, urged
by an eager rider; and Fanny Austin turns
gu ickly, and Ie.enters the parlor, where
she demurely seats herself at table and
takes up book. .''.'' IS 80
Through how many twilights during the
past year had Fanny waited and watched
for the coming Of that milk-white steed!-
She had grown to know his gallop across
the bridge as we'll as she knew the voice
Of his master. Fanny's lover lived in the
city, five miles away-and In all seasons
and all weathers came to visit his 1iege 10.
dy, on this favorite horse, beautiful and
dowerful animal. But this was the last
time that Fanny would watch with loving
anxiousness at that eastern window for the
coming Of the bold, impetuous rlder-fdr
to-morrew they were to be married. .'+
A sweet ideal Of early woman was Fans
ny at that moment, with her love. radiating
face bent over her book, of whose con.
tents she saw not word-with the for
ward fall Of her light wavy hair, half-sha.
ding her shy, tender, soft blue eyes-with
the tremulous play Of her parted lips and
the vivid AushiDgs4 of her fair rounded
cheek. She was dressed with childlike
simplicity, in a lawn of that most delicate
blue we see 10 the far sky-with flowing
sleeves, half revealing arms Of faultless
symmetry. Her white neck was uncov>
cred. and, 10 place of broach, she wore
at her bosom bunch Of pale blush roses.
How her high beating heart rocked them,
end shook out their perfumes!-how elo>
quently, how ftly, how love spoke. in the
rise and fall of those rose buds, and breath.
ed in the fragrance they exhaled: %
There is quick step in the hall without
the door is flung openl Let US look up
with Fanny at him who stands on the
threshold. |l.-.s'--a
A figure of medium height, manly, yet
more delicate than robust; face intellect
ually handsome, though exceedingly fresh
and youthful; the full red lips all smiles,
the large brown eyes all tenderness; deep