The Potter journal. [volume] (Coudersport, Pa.) 1857-1872, 1857-07-09

enchanter! I remembered how guarded
my youth had been, the child of prosper
ity, the early loved. I had known NJ
sorrow, scarcely disappointment, until ;
great grief came and shrouded me as will
a vail from any other experience, for
was now thirty, and had been ten year.
q widow.
The few years of society and the gay
world which came between nay sehoo
days and early marriage were so bright,
30 full of pleasure, that I looked back up.
lon society" as a land full of beauteous
images, fair women, great men, sensible
brilliant, witty conversation, music, dan
cling, all that can charm the imagination
and the senses, refined luxury giving
richness to the picture, an early love lend
ing it romance and poetry.
When the chief figure was stricken out
of this picture, I never wished to look
upon it again. I knew that in looking
upon the brilliant surface I should see
only that void. So had lived a quite,
retired life, surrounded only by the near
est and dearest friends, until grief had
become melancholy, and finally, perhaps,
only something less than that; but the
world | had forgotten.
Was then this brilliant pageant, called
society, but a masquerade? Were men
and women bowling, smiling, caressing
and entertaining each other but to for
ward their own interests? Was there a
skeleton at every feast ?-and hidden by
mask of polite and elegant demeanor,
did jealousy, distrust, scandal, detraction
walk among the guests
Hate potent word it eolored the
landscape, it darkened the sun, it gave to
the soft summer breeze harsh and Sc
we're sound. I felt as if a disagreeable
presence had stolen into my life and shut
out the tranquility and happiness; when
there appeared walking on the green
sward beneath my window, Sister Rose.
No disagreeable presence was sister
Rose She banished hate and brought
back light to the sun; music to the breeze.
Sister Rose was seventeen sweet, beau
tiful, and colored like the rival flowers of
York and Lancaster; she was the young
est, fairest bud on our ancestral tree; and
though thirteen years separated her
from me, we were sisters in the fondest,
truest sense, in mutual confidence and
love, dashed with a sort OF maternal au-
thority ON my part, sort of deferential
'daught orhood on hers.
She was all the world to ne, dear sis
ter Rose
Mrs. Gibson walked by sister Rose on
the green. Mrs. Gibson was a giy lady,
who had come to pay US visit. As they
walked, their conversation foated up to
me through the still June air.
"And Newport is 50 delightful?' ask
ed sister Rose
"Oh! perfectly delightful. The eli
mate of Italy and the best people in the
United States Such charming set of
people in the cottages, yes, and pal
aces too Such gay scenes at the
Bellevue, the Fillmore the Ocean is
little too fast, perhaps, but very nice peo-
pie there, too. Such drives such bath
ing, such dressing, such dear old pic
turesque town Oh there is nothing like
Newport-nothing nothing"
81 should so like to go!' said Rose.
"And why not? Make Mrs. Clifton
take you. Plenty of money, youth, beau
ty, good family; you should 60! Come
to Philadelphia with me, and we shall
get beautiful wardrobe prepared and
nous OSTrOitS
But | do not believe sister Laura
would like to leave her retirement; she
has been quiet so long" 81
"But she must not be quiet; she is
shutting you out from that world to which
you belong. In the name of that wrong
and hereft world | claim you, and you
must come, She must give you up"
So afterward argued Mrs. Gibson at
greater length, SO gently urged Rose
So finally my own judgment told me that
Rose should peep at the world-that
great, enhancing, sparkling world, only
family foreshadowed to her in the dan
cling school balls, the accounts of Mrs.
Gibson, the magazine stories
Armed and equipped with dresses,