Litchfield enquirer., 1855-03-15
A SKETCH FROM LIFE. BY OUR FAMILY PHYSICIAN.

l in my treatment of pulmonary complaints and travelling North one sumner, for heal,l i and rest, stopped for few weeks at beanaful little village near the St. Lawrenc. where l was somewhat known. had only been in the village two day. when l was called to see the young daughter of a wealthy farmer, by the nam. of Sumner.
 Ida Sumner had been the belle of the county. and though sonly seventeen, hel marvellous beauty had already kindled g quenchless flame in the hearts of many ar unsuccessful suitor to her favor. Frank, c6nfding. and at once playful and modest arch. yet innocent, full of wild spirits, yel utterly devoid of coquetry-so see her va, 10 love her.
 found the peerless girl, whom had remembered from the summer before as buoyant and rosy with heal.h--pale and wan as sumlnerscloud, and apparently in the closing stages of decline.
 A careful investigation into the state of her lungs, convinced me that hers was a mental rather than physical consumption. studied her case carefully, watched the varying expressions of her speaking face, and at last came to tle conclusion that her malady was purely of the heart.
 Of unrequited affection! I could not think that, beautiful ani good as she was. The case was difficult one. Tenderly and gently probed every sounding, but could arrive at no conclusion. Thus much l discovered that she possessed no particu- lar regard for any one of the youths far or near, whose name could get hold of. And notwithstanding all my efforts, sine seem ed rapidly declining.
 I made minute inquiry into her past life, and of her mother; and so cautiously as to let my motive remain unapparens. learnt that she had spent few weeks of the win ter preceding with friend in an adjoining town, ard from that time had begun to fade.
 To that town repaired; but by the clo- sest inquiry of one or two friends in that place, could ascertain no clue to her ill., ness. To all the swains alike had she been friendly. but nothing more.
 The clergyman of the church which she had attendeI-and she had been exceeding ly regular and devout in her attendance was young man, but one much given 10 seclusion, and one who refused to mingle in any manner in social gatherings. She had consequently seen nothing of him, ex- cept whilst he was officiating in his pulpit. made pretext to call on him, and found him man altogether made after what might be the highcs. aspirations of a true woman's heart. In fact, all the unenga- ged" young ladies of his parish were well nigh crazy after him. But to all alike he accorded nothing but friendly greeting /; and leaving them all, sought the privacy of his own quiet study.
 He was emiaently handsome. and added to his tall manly form, and beautifully chis- eled features, he possessed benignity of expression that was nearly divine.
 l had much conversation with him, and among other things, casually mentioned Ida Sumner, and her evidently dying state, enlarging somewhat on her beauty and good ness.
 His color deepened somewhat as he as- sensed to my remarks, and expressed his own regrets at her untimely fate; but oth- erwise he manifested no emotion.
 remarked, before left him, that it was time for him to give his pretty parsonage a mistress.
 "l may many years from now," replied he, with sudden and deepening sadness ; |" but early learned to distrust the disin- terested and abiding affection of our modern young women. If I marry l shall proba- bly, marry late in life"
 IA fallacy, take my word for it, Mir. Stuart. Our modern women, some ofthem, are as good and as true as any of the danes of old. The thing is to find the right one. VI And thus saying, l bade him good morn ing. On my return. found my patient rather lower than left her. % l told her l had been in the village of -. Suddenly and unanimously the warm blood rushed up 10 her bosom and face, and she looked atme with her soft in- quiring eyes.
 told her of her friends, and casually mentioned the name of the young clergy. man, Robert Stuart.
 To her clear blue veined temples, the same .ruant-blood sped with fearful force. had seen enough. now knew hel disease, and most probably it's remedy. instantly wrote note to Mir. Stuart, merely saying:
 "lf you would save life, lose not mo. |
 l ment in hasiening to -, (the of the town. -l will await you at my lodgings"
 signed my name, and dispatched it by 1 a private messenger.
 Sooner than expected, the young cler. gyman was a, my hotel. had prepared Ida for conversation with a clergyman specifying, however, no one in particular
 led him to her chamber, saw her blush and star, Of joy andkmodesiy. What then and there transpired, no one bu. the great searcher of hearts and tin two of His choicest handiwork thu' brought togetner-a dying girl and min ister of Heaven-can answer. Ileit then alone as lonaasI thought her weak stat' woaId bear, and when l opened the doc found him sitting beside her bed, her slen der hand fast locked in his, and his soul :beaminy eyes pouring life and love upol her.
 My eyes filled with tears as caught sight of her radiant face, so full of peac and serene bliss and hje-but the tears
 shed were tears of joy.
 My patient, with almost one bound, re
 gained her health and strength, and tn
 gldstous Representative of Gods ministe
 on earth, changing his mind upon the sub