Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1855-05-24
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From Dickens Household Words.
WHYMYCXCLE WAS 4 BACHELOR.

1t had often occurred to mc to speculate ON
the reason which could have induced MY un-
Gle TO remar, unmarried He was Of such 4
kindly temper so chiva!rouS towards women,
50 keenlv alive to domestic enjoyments, aud
withal such an earnest promoter Of marriage
in all his relations and dependents, that It
seemed to me perfectly ncxplicabe. Bur tor
his kind Offices, ain sure it wtuld have bean
impossuin lvr me- |. lave induced ny father
to consent 20 my marriage with Maria; the
cottage in which We live, furnished as Il Is with
its wel-stocked garden and coach-house. was
rhe wcdding-present lie made us; my sister
Kate, too-what urhappiness he saved her by
his kindness to Charlie Evans, who every one
knows was something of Scapcgrace But
nv uncle saw the Good in him which nobody
else but Kate could discover, and had HIM
down at his parsonage, and by his sweet and
nious wisdom won him over to 4 steady ana
earnest pursuit of his profession. And now
,,cople talk of his brilliant talents, ana say how
much good Kate has done him. But We all
know who il was that gave him help and coun-
rcpaucc lust AT the rght moment. and We ali
love my uncle the more dearly for his good
work
When I was still lad. aud Narias blue
eyes had first turned my thoughts towards
nlatrimony, it occurred to he to ask my moth
or, in the course of one of our pleasant even
ings alone together, why my uncle had never
been married.
\ grave sadness came over mv mother 5
face, and she softly shook her head, as she re-
piled in a suppressed tone, Your uncle had Il
great sorrow in his youth, my dear; we must
rcspect it. What it was, do not know; he
has never told me, and l have never asked
him
1t was no matter of surprise to me to hear
my mother speak thus; for, in spite of the
genteness of my uncle's manners and his warm
affection, there was dignity about him which
rendered it impossible to intrude upon con-
hdence he did not offer felt that his sor-
rows were sacred, and never again made any
attempt to gain information respecting them:
although | could not refrain from tender
speculation as to the character of that grief
which had deprived him ola happiness he was
emincntly calculated to enjoy.
In the summer of 1913, my uncle, accord
inc to his custom, came to spend week with
Us. He was in fine helath and spirits, and
we and our children enjoyed the festival even
more than usual. On the Friday evening, my
uncle had been into town, and it was growing
dusk when he returned. He came as usual
into my study. looked up on his entrance
to welcome him; but was struck by the pal
lor of his countenance, and by the traces OF
emotion which disturbed the tranquil dignity
of his ordinary bearing. Iplaced chair for
him. and he sat down in silence-a silence
which for some moments | felt almost afraid
to break. At length l said ina low voice,
HAS any thing occurred to distress You, Sir"
NO, Edward he replied, slowly and like
one who has some difficulty in collecting his
thoughts, nothing that ought to distress me;
but am very weak ; my faith is weak-and l
heard it suddenly. l have heard tonight, he
continued, after pause, and speaking more
continuously, of the death of lady whom |
used to know many years ago. She was young
and full of life when Iknew her. have al
WAYS thought of her as SO young, sofull Of life,
that the great change to death seems almost
impossible Edward you will not think me
wearisome if speak to you of what was, long
and long ago, before you were born, when
vour mother was still a child?
Il assured him by my looks rather than by
my words, of the Interest with which | should
listen lie sank again into silence; but, at-
ter a considerable interval, during which he
seemed to be collecting his thoughts, he It.
sumed: