Burlington hawk-eye. [volume] (Burlington, Iowa) 1845-185?, 1851-07-10

"Am to understand, dear madam that vo,
intend to adopt her." said Mr. Anderson. with
look of surprise.
| "precisely.'
Mr. Anderson, remote scion Of recent,
ennobled family. by no means approved of sucl
project, having very stringent opinions on tht
subject of estate, which, viewed by him, was al
institution Of the Medes and Persians, never Il
be any way altered.
'Since you have had the goodness to let m.
know your intentions. Mrs Grantley.'' he said
! after moments deliberation. Il would strongly
recommend you before taking so important a
step, to consider well whether It will really con-
dnce to what YOU desire-ihe young persons
! happiness. | must confess. for my own part.
! thlnk such a sudden advancement Is calculated
| to produce a very mschievous effect upon her
and venture to counsel yor against it,"
"Yonr sentiments, | have no doubt. will be
! shared by many, when my resolution comes 10 be-
known but, believe me. have weighed every
| objection YOU could urge. Ny mind is now made
up. and nothing could induce me TO alter it,
Mr. Anderson silently inclined his head.
| 81 am aware those abrupt changes some
| times attended with danger" pursued Mrs Grant
ley ''but, IN this case, it may be avoided. II is
my intention to send Mllicent away, for short
time, to some good school, where. in the society
Of strangers, girls of her own age, she will soon
become accustomed to her new position. And
now you have heard all Of my plans, may with
out further preamble. beg YOU will assist me to
carry them out, and first as | am unequal TO the
/ task myself, communicate them 10 Millicent !''
"Most certainly; you may command me. dear
madam, in any way you please" replied Mr. Al
derson, really not sorry, as opposition would he
useless, to play such prominent part in the
transaction. ''Of course, she is still here ?''
''Reckoning on your compliance, told her 10
wait for you in the library.''
''Then | will 20 to her at oncc,' said Mr. Al
derson, and he Quilted the room.
CHAPTER XIV.
About twenty miles from Windstone, in an
outskirt of the county town, was a ladies' school,
proudly distinguished from all rival establish
ments by the simple bit expressive appellation of
the IN sses Junpscns" II was large. de-
tachei house, standing in the midst OF extensive
grounds, and having very stilish and bonton ap-
pearance, which, as a matter of course, was duly
considered in the '.terms, though it is but fair 10
add that eighty guneas per annum included
verythng'-except extras.
The Misses Jumpsen were maiden sisters, re-
spectlveiy denomlnated Susan and Jaclntha. IL
was only the latter, however, that was ever ad.
dressed b. her Christian name. Susan being uni
formiv spoken of as Miss Junpsen--an intima-
ton 10 all whom it might concern, that she
claimed to be the eldest Miss Of her race.
Susan, indeed, though her exact age was a
mystery, counted, beyond all doubt, very Sc
rious number of years-say, il a conjecture NAV
be hazarded on so delicate subject, the verge Of
forty; and probably this circumstance exercised
an effect on her character, which was also very
serious. Prm was her appearance-rigid, in
| 1exbe-not fold awry, not thread ruied IN
her dress, not trace Of sensibility in her fea-
| lures. In aspect as we'll as in reputation. she
was the pattern of proprety, forcibly described
! by neghboring clergyman, the Reverend Fire
brass D5bbs, her ghosly oracle and confessor. as
an angel upon earth.
4. .
| er, was now, while still clInging 10 youth, what
| her sister had been; for, truth to say, Jacintha
| had only reached that mysterious epoch of wo-
| mans existence called a certain are. Hope still
| fingered. No trim cap obscured the glosies OF
! her wiry rnglets, though Of late grown marvel
| lously scant, and though, moreover, scandal
| bruted through the school stories Of false top
! knot. Tongues were not wanting, indeed, to as
| perse even the bloom on her cheek, soft and deli
| cate as it was; and il was whispered, in circles
understood to be well informed. that it evinced a
| METROPOLITAN antipathy to water. Her own eu-
| logist, she described herself fragile being, a
moth. summer flower; and flower she might be
| but it was little faded.
| 1t was to the establishment OF these weird ais
| ters, as one bearing the highest repute in the
| country, that Mrs Grantey resolved to send Mil
! licent and after few letters had effected the
necessary treaty, it was arranged that she should
| set out in charge of Mr. Anderson, who undertook
| 10 see ner SaIe 10 Ine SCllOoi. ana
| the immediate care Of Mrs Jumpsen.
To Mlicent-on whom the change in her for
tune had burst like thunder-clap, leaving her
| for the moment so bewdered, so stunned, that
| she knew not whether to rejoice or TO mourn, and
| who, when her stnpor passed away, had recover
ed, TO hang round her generous benefactress as a
loving and dutiful child-separation was heart
breaking. Sae did not, however, venture to Of
fer any objection to the project, butt after a sad
adieu, passively accompanied Mr. Anderson TO
the carriage, and was borne to her destination.
| 1t has been truly said that school is minea-
! ture world-a Llputian microcosm; and. sure
| ly, to many, looking back Oh its young and ear
lest difficulties, ii is associated with moments of
trial and trouble, not, in proportion to the actors,
| immensely below our later Brobdignag. There, as
in a fruitfu-forcing bed, character first opens its
| tiny delicate blossoms {; good and evil show their
infantile but distinctive coloring the troubles
| the struggles Of Life beg in.
To Millicent it was new country, unknown
| and trackless. Thrown on the world while yet
| child, the companion and fellow-laborer of men
| aud women, with no refuge from tyranny, no de-
| fence against wrong but her own resoiutloa-no
| resource against suffering but en3urance-she
was. by habit by necessity, if not naturally, self
| relying. But with this innate strength her dis
| position, if not aroused by some powerful emo
| ton, was retiring MISUNDERSTANDING always
| by the remembrance or sterile childhood, max
| in- her doubt and d.strust the continuance OF
prosperity. 4 constant apprehension haunted
her night and day. in thought and in dreams, that
she could moi realize the expectations of her ben
| efactsess. and that cham of circumstances,
| forged by some cruel, memorable destiny, would
Law her open 10 the shafts of envy or detraciion,
| and bring about her downfall. In word, she
was fearful, anx Gus, and depressed.
| But now fairly launched-ailoat on that dFcarv.
unexpIored sea, she gradually took heart. Dill
| gent, watchful, patient, never relaxing in ap-
| plicatlon, her progress was amazing, and she
| found obstacles which, at first sight, had assumed
| the stupendous outlines of mountains, sink, at
her approach, into insignificant melehills. Her
/ gentle and unassuming manners. dtsarming anger,
/ and which no provocation could ever besray into
petulance. soon won the affections OF her school,
| fellows; and with one of them named Fanny
! RAYMOND. especially, as each day showed them
more and more of each other, she became lnsepa-
rabe. How happy had all been thus But in
| this little community OF friends, there was re-
lentless enemy, Miss Jacintha!
| Millicent was always perfect in her lessons
and unexceptionable in behavior but Jacntha
from the superior mind and rapidly increasing ac-
| qurements of her new pupil, had taken strong
dislike to her. as yet however, TO her great cna
grin, she had been unable to practice any direct
! oppression; but scarcely day passed that some
treacherous and unworthy snare was not set for
our Young heroine. Still she continued doclle
| and obedent, never once murmurinS. or, when
when too severely ,asked, urging the slightest plea
| for indulgence Jacintha. unable TO comprehend
such elevated endurance, at length began to think
| h.u 81 ,,b,,, che could trample upon at will