The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1855-09-20
BosToN, October 3, 1856.

BosToY, October 3, 1885,.
Thank you, dear Margaret, you may be sure
that will come. Mrs. D. is wrong in sup
posing will shrink from meeting my old asso-
ciates in my altered circumstances" / am
proud" perhaps prouder than when she knew
me; but it is a pride that leads me TO feel
that, if | was worth knowing then, / am worth
knowing now; and that am still rich enough
in the love of you, and others like you, to afford
to do without those who think otherwise.
But / shall not come until after Miss Sum
merfeld's wedding. / have news for you in re-
gard to that Mr. Fletcher has "received a
call to become pastor over the church in Old
field, which he has accepted and the marriage
is to take place there, in the church where the
bride was christened. i am to stay few weeks
with her and Aunt Huldah, whom l would fain
consult about my plans for the future, which
are as yet unsettled. Mr.. Summerfeld's leisure
hours are devoted to an examination of my at.
fairs, and | presume | shall soon know how
the case stands.
We were agreeably surprised by a letter from
Rebecca to-day, saying the marriage must be
deferred to the 18th, as they were all coming
on-Will, and Lizzie, and herself "a good
genius, one who had figured largely in the
golden time
OF good iiaroun Alraschd,'
Z
no trouble about that
Good geniusl We all know there could be
but one and our eyes were Immediately direct
/ ed to where he sat, with darling Juliet on bis
! knee, trying to look wonderfully unconscious
while he related the remarkable exploits of
Richard and Robin.
"Dear Uncle john" began Miss Summer
+ field, as she laid her hand on his shoulder, but
he interrupted her with his
"Dear sister Susannah do be sensible. Don't
Hagar say expressly that it was a heather ge-
MUS; and do you take me for a Turk. half
wish | was one" he muttered with grin,
sand then / should not be obliged to live at
a hotel"
Dear old man, he tries to put the best face
on these changes, because he will not sadden
Susan, but they trouble him greatly. Mr.. Sum-
merfield and he are to board at a hotel, and he
breads the change far more account of the
former than for himself.
"You see, Eleanor" he said to me to-day,
~ know more about hotel life than they do,
and with that side of his which has never got
strong. You need not turn so pale, child-you
were not to blame in the least-I'll never be-
lieve, if you swear you we're; women are al
ways running away with some notion or other
but with that side that troubles him now, though
he thinks nobody knows anything about it but
himself and the Doctor, and the noise and con-
fusion, coal gas and slops, damp beds and
damp linens, he won't live a year."
/ felt frightened at his statement, so gravely
made but unwilling to let him see it, and feel
ing a strange aversion about mentioning his
marriage with Miss C., / said, with an at
tempt at gayety-
"Why don't you get married, then, Mr.. Bige-
low, and give him homer"
"Why don't hang myself, child " was the
] iDl- boI
left, but you women think of nothing but mar
rying and giving in marriage, as in the days
when Noah entered the ark! There, take these
packages-they are for Susan and Yourself
Mrs. B said they were all right, and sup
pose they are-don't bother me with thanks
| wasn't going to have you backing out of the
ceremony with the woman's excuse that you d
nothing to wear"
| had promised to be bridesmaid, and the
packages contained two splendid dress patterns
of white corded silk.
Oct. l0M.-You were right, Margaret; did
love him; | do love him, now and forever!
did not mean to deceive you, but l did not
know it clearly myself until to-day.
He sent for me to the little room we call the
library, to-day, and laid before me all the pa
pers relative to my affairs. They were some
what complicated, but he made them cear-so
clear, that | could easily see how, out of a for
tune of twenty-five thousand dollars, had but
a trihe over one thousand left. 1t was very
strange, but somehow that one thousand at that
moment seemed of more value to me than the
whole had month ago. | felt more grateful
for it. 1t was something to ward off the worst
attacks of want; and | sat for some time with
my eyes fixed upon those four little figures at
the foot of a long column, as if they possessed
some spell.
"You have borne this loss of fortune very
calmly, Eleanor"
| looked up, and became conscious that Mr..
Summarized was regarding me very intently
from the opposite side of the table.
Then it is due to your teachings, sir, far
more than to anything in myself. A year ago,
| shudder to think how it might have affected
me then! But, now, l have learned to know
that what one is, and not what one has, is the
essential point. You have taught me that life
of earnest endeavor is better than wealth-that
kindness and love are better than selfish lux
ury. Oh you can never, never know, sir, all
that 1 owe you," went on, with growing ex-
element, az the memory of all the past years
rose to my throat, because you can never
know how proud, and ignorant, and wilful, and
selfish. l was, when / came here. | have wished
to tell you this-wished / had some way Ia
which to show my sense of all your Kindness"
and the tears would not be kept back any longer,
before | 60 away-perhaps forever! !"
"Then stay here, Eleanor!" He came
quickly round to where | was standing, and
there was something in his glance that caused
mine to droop, and sent delicious shiver
through my whole frame.
"Stay with me always-forever, Eleanor.
Surely your heart must have taught you how
very dear you have become to me-that love
you, Eleanor. Or has it no word to say in re-
ply to mine?"
1t had-he knew if, and l knew it, as well
by the tumultuous JOY that throbbed in my
pulse, as by tee sharp pain that followed, as
thought of Miss c., and uttered her name.
Miss G. will soon become the wife of
my good friend, Professor S. Is that all,
Eleanor2" And he held out his arms.
That was my home-my rest. Folded close
to his heart, lay, like a weary child, moi daring
to unclose my eyes, and look up, lest it should
prove but dream.
is it?"
"Of how often I have said 1 would give all
my wealth for one true, loving heart"
And are all these tears because the kind
Father has seen fit to take you at your word
Or, do you distrust the hearth"
"Neither; l was only wondering WHY He
should be SO good to me. or why you should
love meme who -
care such a right, true-hearted woman. Or
that you should care aught for one who saws
must and shall, and whose must now is, that
you use the time between this and the fifteenth
with all diligence, that he may have, on that
day, the right of perpetual guardianship"
But | could not have it so; plead for
time. l was so confused, | scarcely knew my
~ al Cd