Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1859-07-30
AUNT PATTY AND HER NIECEs.
1 lC0NrINUED.

"When Patty was young" the mother re-
Piled, " she was not handsome; she was tall
and gaunt Perhaps she did not look 20 we'll
Tor her age as she does now; but that was not
child, and she had great liberty; and as she " as
naturally willful, she grew up to do and say
exactly what she pleased think her deter
mined manner and her decided no was great
er objection to her in the eyes Of men than her
want Of good looks. never heard that she had
an offer until after your grandfather's death.
Her neishbOr, Simon Cooley, bought half the
farm, and offered TO Patty. She suspected he
wanted the remaining acres, and had deter
mined to have her own way the rest Of her life,
and knew she could not govern Simou."
but | thought, mother, that women did
govern the household sometimes" .'
Perhaps they de, but not when they an
nOunce the intention beforehand. Aunt PATTY
was too independent to make herself attrac-
tive :"
The little circle had many pleasant walks
and rides, many lively talks, and much music.
At last Henry said to Edward one evening, :.
will not hurry you, but must 60 tomorrow ~
Il shall 90 hkewise, said Edward and in a
few minutes they retired to prepare. The fare
well was uttered, and after an early breakfast
they took their departure.
What a blank in that quiet home Ellen said
she would 90 up stairs and finish sketch she
had made by the hillside few days previous
She sat alone in the little room she used for
such purposes several hours, not indeed draw
ing, but with the materials before her, and her
head leaning on the table. In few hours
Lucy came to her She was 0risved 10 find her
mush detected. She proposed long walk. for
the afternoon, TO distant place, where they
had been long desiring to call, but did not wish
10 take visitors. Ellen consented, and made
mechanical effort for self-conquest
They went esIly to their room at night. Lucy
seated herself at the window to watch the moon
5hAnhIncr lIohf a1lA a Il .l.lz
over the neighboring fields and trees She
called Etlens attention to the scene. Ellen
looked abroad for a moment, and then seated
herself on a stool at Lucy feet. exclaiming:
This, Lucy, has been the most wretched day
| have ever passed. She laid her head on
her sisters lap, wept and sobbed Lucy was
much moved She suspected the cause, and
made tender inquiry.
Dear Lucy. / am sorry to toll you, but feel
that you must know that love Henry deeply
From the first day of our acquaintance he
seemed to fill my heart. l went on in perfect
confidence; and when 1 thought of it, I thought
he loved me, but felt more than / thought
The glow of pleasure each day, when heard
his cheerful good morning when me met, the
thrill OF delight which stole through me as he
sang, were sensations had never known be-
fore. L thought be would acknowledge re-
ciprocal attachment before we parted, or I
think should hsye restrained myself in some
rlessure. His sudden announcement Of depar.
ture came to me like blow, and I believe I
should have tainted; but it was growing dark
and L sat still, and Edward talked, 80 that I
think my emotion was unobserved" All this
ard mach more, was uttered in broken accents
aud by slow degrees ~
Lucy soothed her as Best she might. fearing
Henry had been too attentive. Mo" said
Ellen, II think he never distinguished me |
lay awake nearly all last night, and could not
recall a single word or look to build hone
upon. IL is all my own fault. and that m axes
ii doubly bitter" Lucy told her not to re-
prOach herself. Henry had great attractions
and used them uneOnsciOusly. But the ac-
quaintance had been short, and as he had not
alluded to a renewal of it, she hoped the i'm
preston would pass away. Ellen knew il never
weuld What girl ever expected to conquer a
hrst attachment,
After long conference, Lucy began to urge
going to rest. No, said Ellen. ''yOu can go
viii watch the moonlight until morning.
" That will not do" said Lucy. Perhaps
you could listen to a story ~
q Not if tell you a true one of myself1"
q" All yes. dear Lucy | am not so selfish in
my grief that L cannot be interested about
you
Lucy began with question: "Do you re-
member Blizzard Willis2''
Very faintly,h sIid Ellen.
think you were not more than seven
years old when he left us, and have never
been accustomed 10 speak Of him, nor have nv
father and mother His parents were dead
when be came to US. My father received him
as an assistant IN his business, and as al inmate
In the house, when he was seventeen and only
fifteen. Ny sister Annie, only two years older
than myself, was my constant companion and
leader, / may say, for she always had more
strength and capacity than had. Richard
sPsn; his leisure hours with US, was gay and
amusing companion. and singularly obliging In
every way to my father and mother as we'll as
10 US. lie was likewise very bright in intellect,
and seized on all opportunities for improve
ment. Annie had another dear companion
John Hanson, who is now her husband was our
schoOl-fellow. and lived at his fathers house, a
mile OF. saw very soon that John was getting
very jealous of Richard, and feared he might
make an impression upon Annie, who was iust
his age. He therefore took an early Opportu-
nifty to explain himself fully to Annie, and they
were promised to each other when only nine
teen and seventeen years old. OF course John
was much with US, and monOpOlized the com
pTnipn Of my leisure hours But Annie AMI I
e,Iil WORKED together. and had much happy in
teTcOuTse, and when John came, and had To
leave them together, Richard was sure 20 find
me; and we always enjoyed the amusing book
ot tho evening games together. We went on 30
Tor two years or more, and Johns father had
purchased a farm for him there, and my father
had consented she should 20. Mother was re-
luctSnt; but father told her that John Hanson
was every inch a man, and worthy to take a
woman 10 the end Of the world, if she was
wiling to go with him. Aahie went Mother
and l were very busy all the spring helping her
to prepare for her new life. When she was
gone there was a sad blank. Richard did all
he could TO fill il and before the summer as
ended, he told me what had understood, that
1 was the only one that could make his life
happy. We talked with father and mother
mIther hoped she should keep US, and that
father could employ Richard. Not 50: Richard
had told him be should GO to New York when
he was 0f age. Although father loved him, yet
he did not entirely confde in him warned
ma that be thought Richard n Eighty fellow.
and he might diSapPOint me. l did not believe
il, l thCdght him all but perfect. lived upon
his smiles and nothing seemed sad or weari-
sOine. when | might soon expect TO be cheered
by his presence. Time passed heavily away,
until the period when he proposed to leave us
Ny father found him q situation in a counting
rccm IN New York, went there with him, and
saw him well established. He promised to
come at Thanksgiving 1t seemed an age to
ma hut Sat- h. IL 4 -