Nashville patriot. [volume] (Nashville, Tenn.) 1858-1860, 1858-05-07

Cicai, opo<t as a SEA; neither DICK nor stone
Obscufed bur view-neither tree nor tower
darkened Us; undulating fields and hedge
rows there shut out no prospect; all was bright
and sunny there, from zenith to horizon. This
new confinement, at its first sight, was strange
and painful to me. / recollect on the night
came, that stood by one of those west win
dows and drew my travelling cloak around me,
with an involuntary SILVER. The sun had set
and the sky above was grey, and the black,
decaying walls, in that cold twilight, looked
strangely sorTowful-stern, too. and pitiless
"a blank, cold shadow, whose beauty Icould
not see, and whose solemn age-grim mould
ering memorial of the vanished centuries
only chilled me-
had not seen my grandmother for eleven
years. When we last met she was an active,
brlght-looking woman, of five and thirty.
When she greeted me at her threshold now
did not recognize her; she had grown faded,
and pale, and old.
Il was stronger and younger when / saw
you last Ruth" she said gently, when Ispoke
of the change in her: but there was a real and
anxious look in her face that | thought must
be set there by other causes than advancing
years or failing strength.
"And my cousin Noel?'
He was her only son-a man ten years or so
older than was. had seen him once-elev-
en- years ago-and had one day been carried
in his strong arms through a hazel cOpse, when
long wandering amidst fallen leaves had wet
my feet-a small kindness that had remem-
bered faithfully.
She answered: "You will scarcely remem-
Der Noel:" and presently found that she said
right. As we sat together little while after
talking by the fire, man entered the room,
and coming up to me, put out his hand with
single cold phrase of welcome. I looked up
into his face as l answer ed his salute, and with
that look, something that had been a kind of
hope in me, sank down with quick short
pang. No; had no recognition for this Noel
Erickson. This cold repellent face was all
strange to me. 1t was small thing to speak
OLA slight disappointment and yet out of
my child's prose life, it was something to lose
the sunshine of one pleasant memory.
We fell calmly, and at once, into quiet,
regular life. l bad little education and few
tastes. had been accustomed to spend hours
every day passively laying stitch to stitch up
on some long mOnOtonous work. | set
square yard of canvas now in frame and
with my pattern and my cOlOred woods, l
quickly set to work. The thing, when finish
ed, said, should be cushion for my god
mother. At which she thanked me, and took
up some humber work herself. They were
not rich, and she had other sewing to do than
to make cushions.
We passed our days alone, for Noel Erick-
had his own work, and his own room to work
in. He was an artist, and he labored in his
studio early and late. What came of his la
boring | did not often see. Sometimes his
mother took me to his wOrk-rOom, and made
me look at some completed drawing--during
these first months they were generally slight
WateT-colOr sketches--befOre it left the house;
but these were all | saw, and, amongst them,
few impressed me much. / used to tell Mrs
Erickson (tor it was necessary when | looked
at them to say somcthing) that was no Judge
of paintng-and that was true; but it was al
so true that in my heart did not like my
cousin NOel's pictures. Even in his slightest
drawings there was at all times something fe-
verish and restless They might have power
in them-I did not knOw-but they had no
repose. / say | did not like nor understand
him. He was IA shadow in the hOuse-an I'M
care-worn. silent man. His presence
made gloom in the place of sunshine: his as
pect chilled me with winters cold. He was
unhappy himself, and he brought discomfort
as his companion. | was afraid of him little;
pitied him much; liked him not at all.
Yet | did not regret my coming to my god
mothers house. If Noel chilled me. his moth
er did not. l had known so little affection in
my life, that the quiet love she presently be-
gan to bcstOw on me, stole into my heart like
very sunshine. | returned her what she gave
to me; and in spite of Noel Erickson, and the
gloominess of the ancient town, my new home
became very pleasant to me. She said that |
made it brighter TO her. too; perhaps | did. L
can still remember the sound of nv merry
laughter, as through the months of that first
winter it used TO ring, Weakening smiles at
least to join with it, through the low-roofed
rooms of the old house.