True American. [volume] (Steubenville [Ohio]) 1855-1861, 1858-03-31
VOL, 4-NO. lS.. :

the homestead was hourly expected, ar.
ter long absence in foreign lands. But
the roses lay withered and dead ON the
green turf, and still he came not, though
the first flush of early summer had ripen.
ed into the rich fruitage of September.--
All through the morning there had been
an unwonted stir and bustle throughout-
the old house, and the suns rays gilded
portico and easement, as on the faroff
June day when Hannah Worthineton had
died But lis beams rested on other
tombsones than her own, with the name
of her family craven thereon. The old
man had been found sleeping bis las.
sleep, with no trace of the last battle
which he had fought, on his passionless
face. r1G eGaJ
But out of the very gloom of their death
there had been infused with the placea
spirit so pure, so joyous, as to irradiate
tile whole house with it's sunshine. q "a"
In her loneliness, Bessie Worthington
had taken young orphan child, utterly
destitute, with no other claim Than thatcf
youth and helplessness upon any human
being. She had been, however, well re.
paid for the care and bounty she bestowed.
by the girls fulfllment Of the promise Of
her childhood, as she grew in years, with
face OF winning beauty. gay spirit, and
a warm, loving heart. a3l'f1I3
When Harry Worthington had been
last at home, Hope Raymond was but
child of tender years, whom memory re-
called with the recollection Of his boybood.
The grave. sweet eyes, the braided golden
hair, with the fair face mantled with the
flush of youth and health, which he met
upon his return, kindled at once his ad.
miration and his regard.
A connosseur in womar's loveliness
from his long artistic studies Of the fairest
living subjects, and his intimate acouaiot.
ance with the wondrous beauty Of tba
finished models of the dead masters nor.
:ratures of bygone years, he was we'll
fitted for ready and true appreciation Of
the peculiar and delicious beauty of tha
young, unconscious subject who sa. be-.
fore his easel in the little studio which
had been fitted up in the old house for his
use.
Experience in life's conflict, with the
passage of time, had more than ordinarily
changed the character of the boy. With
his tall stature, spare Though study and
viglls, but graceful from habilual ease
his countenance, intellectual and express.
i've through tho cultivation of genius
native, born and high, which redeemed
from all appearances Of imbecile sensual.
lty the full blue eyes and expressive
mouth-but with boyhood's sunny Ii9St
forever stricken from his face BY the Ii(a
which he had led, Harry Worthingtop
: came back to bis home.
lfin the shadow which had fallen acros.
the lineaments of youth, one might read
the dim outline of a stormy condic. with
liie's high duties YET to come, the revela.
ton OF his bosom's secrets would baya
prestiged the actuality of what those fea.
> lures change dimly prophesied
With the scepticism of his youth grown
into tue bold and subtle sophistries Of
r maturer life, with the highest code of the
honor Of conventionalism, which he cbiy.
: alrously professed, could stand, a shield.
! between one who should found human
= hope on such faith as his and the danger
of that trust. @"t
mi
' The studio which be fitted up for him.
r self, with his adroit and ready skill, wa,
v in the upper part Of the house, hitherto
o used but as lumber-room and it grew,
!. even in his own appreciation, with an
agreeable abode in which 10 indulge his
reveries; while Hope, charmed win ths
S novelty and congeniality Of the spo,. ex.
n pressed, with girlish enthusiasm, he,
4 delight ~
,r And not all the southern hue and spleu.
d dor OF the golden. fragrant atmosphere
e and light which had once illumined hi,
foreign atelier, had been half SO encbant
a ing as the chance sunbeans which fel
over the slight figure standing by his side
" while he gathered back the curtain muf
II fling the easement, and together thew
h gazed upon the far stretching meadow
te lands, high woods, and winding river
ID before them ;-she full Of happiness, and
m a grateful sense Of the joy and peace oI
re a pure and perfect life; he half subdued
d and made pure by the contact Of hel
presence.
)" In her companionshp with Harr,
,y Worlhington, Hope Raymond experisn
IN ced none Of thai irst reserve aud shynes,
r. which she would have fel. towards On,
of less intimately connected than he bat
Of been for years, and therefore she had IN
ig stalled him at once. on bis arrival, to III,
u. privileges Of her nearest friend. next /,
her whom she called alike with himsel
"Aunt Bessie"
And Harry Worihington had ioined. a
her adopted brother ia her daily plesD
ures, her pleasant ayocaiions but \
never had for a single moment forootiel
that no ties Of consanguinity held Ihsa
ce in unison. He remembered /. slwsv
p. with strange, unde6nable sense of pIss.