Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1858-04-03

Wulkeu, because Sne was 700 Ill, was SOmetlineS
tempted to go with my father or with my broth
cr Rofc when he was at homc through the
garden walk to Mrs. Lyndhurst's.
For Rolfe used to come home from Cam
bridge in the vacations. What pride l had in
him and so, | know, had our mother. lie was
so fine looking, so manly, so courteous to every
one, especially toward those who would most
like it-old, poor people. When at last he
went away for years to pursue his studies in the
schools of France and Germany-for he had
high thoughts of physicians duties-I do not
believe there was one of them who did not miss
him. This departure of his was my first great
grief \ great grief it was to us ALL | heard
my father telling my mother, to comfort her,
that as far as it was possible to rely upon the
uprightness of human being, young though
Rolfe was, he could trust in him.
Rose was to me like sister. ! had great de-
light in her uncommon beauty. To look at her
was like listening to sweet music, or seeing a
rare picture, or better still, an exquisite flower.
Her eyes were of the buest, but very dark, with
lashcs brows and hair quite black. And such
a wealth of hair +. She was little pale when
silent, but speaking sent to her check lovely,
changing color, and, to do her justice, she spoke
a great deal, and in voice singularly rich and
clear nothing would be sweeter except her
singing. She knew more old ballads than |
had believed in existence, and TO sing was as
natural to her as to breathe. Alone at her
necdcwork in her light task about the house
or in the garden, away in the fields or woods,
she sang in tones, glad sometimes, sorrowful
sometimes, but always sweet.
But shadow crept slowly over that pleasant
home. 1t was evident that Mrs. Lyndhurst was
no longer so well as she had been. Her place
in church was often vacant. She grew paer ;
her strength diminished and she felt that life
was waning away from her. Dr. Warburton
the village physician, was summoned Equally
far-sightcd and skilltul, he perceived at once
that she did not need to be made aware of her
condition, nor to be deluded with the hope of
recovery.
4 few months more and then she died.
1t was a calm summer evening"; birds were
singing in the larch trees that shaded the west
window, and through the branches came red
CLEANS from the sunset. Mrs. Lyndhurst had
seemed stronger than usual that day and with
her chair drawn close to the window looked out
on the beautiful evening The granite peak of
Monadnoc was all aglow with the lovely Grim
son Splendor the limbs of the forest trees up
the hillside were transmitted into shafts of flame
all the air was full of soft purple light. Rose
knelt by her mother and looked out too. They
both thought alike of the time when the eyes of
one would see beauty fairer than this.
4" Rose said her mother YOU have been al
ways blessing to me from the time when first
looked on your sweet baby face in our far-off
home in Scotland, till now that YOU are grown
so like your father-so like him dear" She
laid her wasted hand ON Roses head. a. bless
YOU, darling, again and again in Gods name
bless YOU They were the last words she
ever spoke.
Rose came to us. She never turned from
coreoln,;n,,. tbn lronI hat
some of us when our friends die never visited
her. Not shadow OF doubt uInmeu her
rene faith that they whom she loved were :" not
lost, but gone before"
My father and mother grew to love Rose as
if she had been their own child. 1t must have
been hard heart that did not love her-so
gentle she was always, so thoughtful for Others
unmindful of herself The years that she
lived with us are among the happiest of my hap
py life. Frequent letters came from Rolfe he
was WELL hard at work, and full Of eager, cheer
full courage
DIR. Warburton was friend of my fathers
from old college times. He rode over every
Sunday TO breakfast with us, for he said there
was no coffee far or near-no bread and butter
no cream--no eggs-like those which Mar
tina Brent, our trusty hand maiden, set before
him. Partly, think, he came to see, in a quiet
way, how my mother was doing, and partly be-
cause he loved to come and We loved to see him.
One day he announced that he found himself
growing old-absolutely decrept-and in ur-
gent need of a partner.
Did he want lady," we inquired, or a
gentleman ?"
Oh, a lady if he might have had one of us,
but in despair of that, it was gentleman whom
he had fixed upon, and with whom he had made
arrangements. lie did not wish us to tantalize
him with offers, that it was too late. But as to
this gentleman whom he expected, it was one
in whom he had entire confdence-who was
sensible, siful in his profession, and good look
ing, too-who had studied in Cambridge, and
then gone abroad to learn more-who, indeed,
was abroad now but coming home soon-here
| began to watch him-whom he had known
from childhood and could answer for
Was it Rofc?" asked.
"And why Rolfe, Miss Olive? Is no other
young man sensible or good looking?"
Many time | had thought of this as one of
the most desirable things in the world, for
knew it would make my father and mother so
happy but | scarcely dared hope it, and now
it was really going to take place!
There was letter from Rolfe he would take
the very next steamer for home. How glad we
all were, and how many things we discovered
that must inevitably be done before his arrival,
and so short time in which to accomplish them
Rolfe's room must be nicely fitted up. A new
mating must be had for the floor, and new book
shelves-Rose and had appropriated the old
ones my mothers picture-Rose was doing
that-to be finished and hung opposite the bed
the new slippers to be completed. Hardly ever
did we work so busily and so cheerfuly
Saturday arrived that afternoon he was to
come. The dear mother-her sweet, pale face,
little paler than usual-sat in her armchair
by the window, and without her needlework for
once, l always secretly thought my mother
handsome, and so must any one have thought
that day. The pretty lace shading her soft,
brown hair was very becoming. A tremulous,
subdued happiness shone from her clear eyes,
giving them the look that never grows old. My
father walked up and down from the gate to
the door, pausing at every turn, now under the
tree at the entrance, and now by the lilacs at
the window where sat my mother There were
flowers everywhere-in Rolfes room, in my
mothers, in the low parlor, where indeed, they
grew in at the windows; even in the kitchen
Martha Brent had been fain to group hollyhocks
and great roses, in default of her prime favor
ties, peonies and snowballs, whose day for the
nounce was over. Ourselves, too, were in gala
dresses. Rose in pure white, with coral bands
around her throat and wrists, and in her beau,