The Council Bluffs nonpareil. [volume] (Council Bluffs [Iowa]) 1857-1867, 1858-07-03

Sn0A 0OAkl <A0U y0t 6uQ
,either complained nor desponded, but only
'niled-a little sadly perhaps-and said she
,ew that this disaster was all for the BEST
though she could not see il at the time.-
She calmly made preparation for quitting
her pretty home, con6ded her little hand
maid to one cousin, in whose kitchen the
!idy Rachel was gladly admitted, gave her
few household pets to another, and prepar-
I'd to brave the wide world. Some unfeel-
ing people forgot Aunt Milly in her trouble;
but tho greater part Of her friendly circle
proved how much they esteemed and valued
her. Some asked her to visit them for q
month, three months, year; indeed, had
'he chosen, Aunt Milly might have spent
her life as a passing guest among her friends;
but she was too proud to do any such thing.
At last third or fourth cousin-a widow.
or, of large fortune-invited Miss Milly to
reside at his house, as chaperon to his two
young girls just growing up into
womanhood. This proposal, kindly meant,
vas warmly accepted: and Aunt Milly set
Toward on her long journey, for Elphin-
stone Hall was some hundred miles off-a
formidable distance to ono who had never
been a days journey from her own home;
now, alas, hers no more! Still, neither
nor fear troubled her blithe
spirit, as little Miss Milly set out with her
valorous nephew; for l had pleaded so ear
nestly my right to be her squire to Mr.. El-
phinstone's door, that the concession was
yielded at last. r..,~. 81
Of oil the gloomy looking old avenues
that ever led to baronial hall, the one we
passed through was tho gloomiest. Itmight
have been pretty in May, but on wet day in
October it was most melancholy. Poor
Aunt Milly shivered as the wind rustled in
the trees, and the dead leaves fell in clouds
upon the top of the postchaise. We alight-
ed, and entered a hall equally lugubrious,
and not much warmer than the avenue. Tho
solemn old porter was warming his chilled
hands at the tiny FIRE; he and the house were
in perfect keeping-dreary, dull and melan-
choly. Tho master was much in the same
style; tall black figure, with long facc
and white neckcloth, was the personified
idea left behind by Mr.. Elphinstone. When
he was gone, earnestly entreatcd Aunt Mil
ly to return with me, and not stay in this
desolate place; but she refused. ,.....,-
my cousin seems kind,' she said; she
looked and spoke as though he were glad
to see me. ct was too cold to hear or see
much, certainly, but declare did not no.
tice this very friendly reception.) my dear
Godfrey Aunt Milly continued, Il will try
and make home here; the two girls may be
amiable, and then shall soon love them; at
all events let US hope for tho BEST
My hopes for poor Aunt Milly all vanish
ed into thin air when, at the frigid dinner
table where the very eatablcs seemed made
Of stone, saw two young ladies of fifteen
or rthereabouts-one,t the widest and rudest
hoyden that ever disgraced feminine habili-
ments; the other, pale, STOPPING girl, with
sleepy blue eyes, and lank hair, who never
uttered word, nor once lifted her eyes from
the tablecloth.
sWhat will become Of poor Aunt Milly p
thought internally. Yet there she was, as
cheerful as ever, talking to that solemn old
icicle, Mr.. ElphiDstonc; listening patiently
to the lava-hood of Miss Louisa's tongue;
and now and then speaking to Miss Euphe-
mia. where the only answer was a nod of
the head or n stare from her immense blue
eyes. 'WellH mentally calculated, sAunt
Milly's talent for making the best of every
thing will be called into full rcquisition here,
suspect
Nevertheless, when we parted, she assured
me that she was quite content TINT she
would no doubt be very comfortable at the
Hall.
But those two dreadful girls, how will
you manage them, Aunt Milly?' and faint
vision of the tall, stout Louisa going into a
passion, and knocking my poor little aunt
of her chair, came across my minds eye.
cPoor things! they have no mother to
teach them better. l am sorry for them
was mothcrless child myself said Aunt
Milly, softly. 'They will improve by and by;
depend upon it, Godfrey, all will turn out
we'll for both you and me.
sAmen = said l, in my heart; for thought
of my own Laura. How different she was
from the Miss Elphinstones ! And the image
of my own beloved eclipsed that of desolate
Aunt Milly, fear, before have travelled
many miles from the Hall.
Aunt Milly's epistles were not very fire.
quent; for, like many excellent people, she
disliked letter writing, and only INDUCED
her very particular friends with few lines
now and then, in which she fully acted up
to the golden rule, IF you have anything
to say, say it, if nothing-why, say it, too.'
Thus nv information as to how matters
were going at Elphinstone Hall was of
very slender nature. However, when few
had rolled by, chance led me into
the neighborhood, and surprised Aunt Mil
ly with visit from her loving nephew.
1t was early spring, and few peeping
primroses Frightened the old avenue. I'm
derneath the dining room windows, was a
gay bed of purple and yellow crocuses, which
I thought bore tokens of Aunt Milly's care;
she was always so fond of flowers. 1fanoied
the Hall did not look quite so cheerless a.
before; the bright March sunbeams enliven-
ed, though they could not warm it. In a
few moments appeared Aunt Milly herself,
not in the least altered, but as lively and
active as ever. ~
She took me into her own little sitting
room, and told me how the winter had pass
ed with her. It had been rather . gloomy
one, she acknowledged; the girls had beet,
to run wild; Louisa would have
her own way; but then she was easily guided
by love, and her nature was frank and warm.
Phemie, the pale girl, Who had been delicate
from her cradle, was rather indolent, but
{ oh! what blessing these buts afe some
LINES !)-but then she was so sweet and
gentle. own when again saw the young
damsels, thus leniently described BY Aunt
siilly, did not perceive the marvellous
shange; Louisa seemed nearly as talkative,
and her sister nearly as insipid As ever; still
there was slight improvement even to my
Eyes, and gladly allowed glamour which
vas cast BY her hopeful creed and sweet
sBut now, Godfrey, how fares It with
vou? said my good old aunt. How is
Laura? and how are you getting on in the
rorld?' >.- ..s. .-..a
could give but melancholy answer to
;hese questions; for l had to work hard,
md law was dry study. Besides, many
people looked coldly on me, after they knew
was poorer than had been; and etcn
laura herself was not 80 frank and kinds-
Vague jealousies were springing up in my
,eart for every smile she bestowed elsewhere;
md these smiles were not few, ! was in truth
ar from happy; and 80 l told Aunt Milly,
.d8ing. ssIf Laura does not love me don't
are what becomes of me-" 80 ~
Aunt Milly smiled and then looked grave.
NV dear Godfrey, ifLaura married to-
morrow you would recover in time.s = -s1
mo never! To lose the girl I love, IL to
ose everything in the world?
~ /. n Nl - La Al