Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1859-05-18

poor mama IL seemed from l1aI IN
their hearts were united. Ella neT- Il
before felt such love for her child, no, not la
even when a babe in her cradle, did she ex- It
p~erience such tenderness towar her. II
At length Henry left the house, Ella called |
a servant, sent him for a hack, and prepared. II
herself and Minnie for the journey. As soon B
as it arrived, they entered the hack the II
trunks were placed upon it, and they were |
gone. Gone without one line to tell Henry /
Forest their destination. Do you blame her,
reader, for thus leaving her husbands We
blame her that in the earlier part of his wild
career, she did not act differently that she
did not endeayor at least to reclaim him
from his wanderings. Instead of losing in
terest in him and his happiness, she should
have doubled, aye, trebled her efforts to rem
der his home attractive and pleasant to him.
But it is too late now, and we will not di-
gress farther. /
Let us follow the coach. 1t enters Broad
ST., and now halts before a lawyers office,
and they descend and enter, while the coach
waits. Fortunately, Ella finds Mr.. A. alone
He was her former guardian, and had still
the charge of some of her property. And
now we must inform the reader of that, it
was unnecessary to speak of it before. There
were ten thousand dollars of Elias property
SO settled upon herself, that her husband had
lO v II. 2IO hOlST1F
give it away, except at her death, when If she
died without issue, she could will it to whom
soever she pleased. 1t was this, chiefly,
which brought her to see Mr.. A. 1t had re-
manned idle for many years, and had accu-
INFLATED greatly. Now, she wished to make
arrangements to draw the interest, as she
was resolved to live on that alone. Mr.. A.
had watched with indignation and sorrow the
downward course of Mr.. Forrest, for he dear
| ~ 1ouoI fha oop41o civil rrho ho1 baan 4oban
by him when a child, and who had never
been aught but affectionate and respectful
towards him. Ella told him all. He wept
as she sat there, so sad, yet so calm; such a
contrast to the gay, blooming girl she was
just six years ago. He remembered too, it
was her wedding anniversary. He essayed
to comfort her, but with an impatient move
; ment, she implored him not to mention the
name Of her husband to her: and he refrained.
From thence she proceeded to the depot,
, took the cars, and was soon whirling onward
. at a rapid rate. The momentum seemed to
relieve her, and she looked less rigid, less sad,
as her little child asked question after qu,es-
!, ton in her innocent gaiety, and attracted the
notice and admiration of all.in the coach
}, The scenery too, the green fields, the rich
autumn foliage, the clear blue sky, and cheer
full singing of the birds seemed to cheer her
and a weight was taken from her heart,
. though still no tear dimmed her eye, and she
70 was far, very far from feeling happy.
In a few hours the cars stopped at a little
"A village, and there she alighted, and having
If her baggage placed in the office, proceeded
with Minnie to a pretty little cottage, where
they stopped, and Ella knocked at TIE door.
They are admitted by an elderly lady, evil
Z IDENTIFY a Quaker, with her snowy cap, kerr
- chief, and drab dress. She was a. beautiful
woman, even now. though fifty years had
laid their SHOWS upon her locks. We have
now introduced to you Mrs. Manning, Elias
ar Aunt. She started with surprise and pleas
ME ure, when she beheld her Deice, and gave hel
ed, a warm welcome, then as they entered thu
comfortable sitting room, and drew near tn
the blazing fire, she took Mi nnie, who was gazing
she wonderingly in her face, on her lap, and al
ia she drew off her bonnet and cloak, said:
m at is very kind Df thee, 4'la, to come t
nus see me-, and to bri'ng thy dear little girl
)ne What is thy name daar2 Miia4ajee14 tthstd IL
II excuse my plain dinner, I am sure thou mus
the be hungry, and I will not keep thee waitin
pom to have more prepared. But why did nc
he thy husband. come with thee, Ella l woul
did have been glad to see him. will send fc
no thy oagga &c now, | suppose it is at the depot
4 at and she hurried out to attend to it.
I'll All this time, Ella had spoken not a word
S of but sat gazing sadly in the fire. Her aur
6 to was thoughtful, saw plainly something wa
ing wrong, and as she left the room, murmure
that to herself, "Well, the poor thing seems yer
had sad will not trouble her now to ask an
of questions. | heard something of Henry som
Don time ago, that he drank too freely. She Wi
day tell me, maybe, if will have patience. Poc
he child! will try and coax her to drink
want cup of good coffee, she will feel better thel
q to L hope she will be able to eat something.
and wish L had known she was coming, SO I cou
dis have had something nice she could eat"
She spread herself the snowy table, place
; de. on it her g poor dinner" as she had called
hich though it had no such appearances; and thu
of went to the room where Ella still sat vii
her bonnet and shawl on, gazing vacant
ADLER into the fire, while Minnie stood beside her.
the ELLA, my love, take off thy things, al
come to dinner. | know thy little girl
Con- hungry" and so saying, she herself until
ma the bonnet of the poor girl. This reused he
this and rising, she Invested herself of her shaw
rsary and thanking her aunt, followed her to t
lie al dining room. And the sweet, cheerful ia
ovely which shone SO kindly upon her, seemed
the comfort Ella, and she eat more heartily tn
ected she had done for many a day before.
n his Little Minnie was delighted with ever
lrsed thing, and before night had formed the 8
sin quaintance of everybody and everything
that the lot, from "Aunt Betsey," the colored "
years AA - ehS hAeShCi, " tllO lazy, lat, ola TAB
re re- cat which rested on the rug before the fl
3 lad She was a perfect sunbeam there, and t
Id on pleasant cottage seemed all the more che,
shun- full with that little fairy fitting about, SC
and tering smiles and joy all around her.
J, but That afternoon in tks cheerful sitti
pur- room, while Minnie was at play, Ella told
dri- aunt all and thus concluded, "And no
like dear Aunt, will you let me stay with YOU.
d pitt have still eRo@gh left tazray nay beard q
her, supply my wants. l no longer love nv h,
then band. | felt my heart grow hard and C
hand as steel when he raised his hand to strike n
! her and l never wish to behold him again. w
e no. you, Aunt Hannah, l know no one can no
rage, the finger of scorn at me, for all know b.
d her good you are. feel I will be better, be mt
that useful, if you will let me remain with you.
augh- AND my little Minnie, she, with you near |
sunk to watch over and correct her, will sur,
up to make a better, wiser woman than her moth
have viii you let US stay, dear Aunt ?"
| the "WilI I! My dear Ella, I will gladly "
40 Ia come thee and thy child. Thou wilt GLADE
N tne my heart, darling. Yes, thou art welco
as if thou vert my own child. am
ately, good, my dear, but very weak and sinful:
lrobe, not put thy trust in me. MAY God bl
!, and theel and teach thee to look to Him for co
4 and fort, to lead thee in the right path. Do
house. lean on thy own strength, Ella, or on thy