The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1854-10-12

u.s.
@Come in, neighbor Halstead, come in" said
Mr.. Richards who was in his most genial and
amiable mood come and give us your advice
upon a momentous question:"
My father said he would rather not come in /;
and, with his hands crossed behind him. no re-
manned leaning against the gate post as he
continued to say that his advice was Of little
worth
Timothy, with instructive politeness, hobbled
out, and, resting partly on the fence and partly
On his crutch, unfolded, in his own humorous
way, the little merry-making we had devised.
"Humph !" said my father, more sorrowful
when he had heard it. off Charley was here
he could speak with any of them. He has a
good deal in his head, if he had the courage
to say it. He is emart, like his mother, and so
is Mary, here. Does she do you much Of any
good, Mr.. Richardsqn
l almost wished the earth would open and
| swallow me up Twas so mortified by my ia
ther's simple mind and manner. MIR. Rich
| ards said l was all he desired me to be- aud
while he continued to keep house, he hoped
he should be fortunate enough to retain my
services.
"What, you don't think of leaving the
neighborhood, do you!" asked my father,
coming step or two nearer to the porch.
40, no. no !" and he turned the CONVERSE
ton to the general interests of the neighbor-
hood, and after little while my father went
away, walking slowly through the moonlight,
as he had come.
This visit left me more unhappy than I had
been for long time; for | saw that he was
unhappy, and | felt that was seIfshly seek
ing my own enjoyment, rather than his.
When he had gone a little way down the
Iaro 4 10 hot ba heoH md
asked me if had heard anything about Char
ley; as if l would not have told him, if had
news that would gladden. him so. | said, /" No,
father !" and my voice trembled IS | spoke.
ooh, dear !" heard him eigh, and, bowed
down little more it seemed to me, than when
he csmo, he retraced his lonesome way. | left
my seat on the porch, and stepped into the
lane with intent to join him, and tell him that
Mr. Richards had asked me to be his wife !;
for could not bear that he should go to his
lonesome home uncontrolled; but my evil ge-
MUS, for so may as well cell Mr.. Richards,
aware, probably, of my design, came imme-
diately to my side and with some remark On
the beauty Of the night, softly put my arm
through his, and led me in a direction opposite
to that which it had been my intention to
walk
He talked fuently of thousand things, but
said never a word of that upon which he must
have known | was bordering. 1t was bright
moonlight evening in autumn the air in the
late evening q little chilly, reminding one of
hearth. fires and comfortable houses; but to
the7mind of my companion no such thoughts
suggested themselves. | remember, that es we
sat on O messy bank, the dim silence inviting
confidence and the memory Of the past SEEM
ing to indicate the future, he made some COM
monplace observation about his tendency to
rheumatism, and the incautiousness of the
present exposure, as though detained against
his own inclination.
| was silent, perhaps sullen, and with the
quick step of traveller, who would be at the
end of his journey, my incomprehensible lover
conducted me back to the house, apparently
quite unconscious Of my disquiet Timothy sat
on the porch, playing his flute; and so soon as
we came within his hearing he was drawn
into the conversation with an earnestness, on
the part of Mr.. Richards, which seemed to me
to indicate my inability to interest him further.
A rose bush stood directly in our way, for we
turned aside from the path to join Timothy,
who sat at one end of the porch, or so my
escort suffered it to be, by himself taking the
side contrary to that which had chosen, and
so forcing my arm to relinquish its resting
place. 1t would have been natural to pass
Timothy, and part fer the night at the door ct
the hall but not so chose my sfisnced, and
with no whispered goodnight, no soft and re-
assuring pressure of the hand, no lock that
said, "you are all to me-" with no sign to in
dictate that was any more to him than limo
thy, we separated.
could not sleep. felt as If the cords that
lowered Lucretia's coffin were drawing through
my hands. heard my bereaved old father
inquiring of me for Charley, and saw him.
poor boy, weary wsnderer, and turning his
reproschful eyes upon me- Myself saw bring
ing reproach on q stainless name, and expend-
ing all hope, all aims, oil energies upon what
had as yet been Elusive as q dream. | tried
to keep unwelcome truths ont Of my mind, by
watching the patch of moonlight on the wall,
by counting my heart BEATS and listening to
the winds as they made their first melancholy
meanings along the hills or tho cock as he
crew loudly and cheerfully, giving assurance
that all was quiet within his dominion; but
all were inadequate, and conjured dark men,
cries and troubled times out of their graves to
displace by their solemn reality the forebod-
ipgs of tremulous fear. There was nothing 90
dark, in all the darkness of the past, as the
visionary shadows of the sunset of love.
But, in spite of all my efforts at evasion, /
felt that it had been the duty of my betrothed
to say to my father what purposes be enter
tanned toward me when he saw him depart
ing alone and sorrowful, how easy it would
have been to accompany him some part of the
way, and to tighten an old mans heart He
had not done 80 he had even prevented me
from doing SO; and it was not from ignorance
of what was due, not only to age, but to the
relationship proposed Did it not therefore,
argue mind unsettled, or disposition ct war
with his half shaped fortune?
Then he had alluded, too, to the probability
of sudden departure from amongst US and
though he had afterwards amended the avowal,
the emendation had in my mind been in no
wise satisfactory.
| felt ashamed of having been ashamed of
my father, but, though prayed Heaven to for
give me. said not now, and here | cast down
nv pride, but sought, instead, to compromise
with conscience, end resolved, that if by such
or such time my future took no more certain
shape, | would then stand up alone, casting
aside NV concealments and my wretched strife
to reconcile things incompatible. When had
made this resolution, | felt little more at
ease would bend all my energies to the i'm
movement of myself that might be worthisr
of the position to which all my wishes tended.
| did not once reflect that, strive as l would,
I could not grow out of the rusticty ia which
he first knew me, who was the arbiter of my
fate. A prophet hath no honor in his own coun-
try. If one makes any pretence beyond his
neighbors, the city of his birth may give him a
monument, but never bread.
True, was mortified when that he proposed
to educate me; for did it not plainly argue an
unftness on my part to be his mate! Yet
hoped by new acquisitions to eradicate preju-
dices. Ii was a vain hope. | might have
known that in his opinion would never stand
higher or worthier than did in the first glow
of his enthusiastic admiration.
But with what decisions we cheat ourselves