The Oxford intelligencer. (Oxford, Miss.) 1860-18??, 1860-08-22
From the Southern Home Journal.
The ESooF Niece.

IN close, mean chamber, up two pair Of
back stairs, in small country town about
forty miles from Boston, young woman was
sitting by the only window sewing. There
was stove in the room, but the air was lit
tie warmed by it, the fire having evident been
suffered to 60 out from it after the breakfast
was over
She was cmbroidering beautiful cashmere
cloak-an infants cloak of most elaborate de-
vice. Her chintz dress, coarse and dark, was
very clean, and she had on white apron
and white linen sleeves to protect the cnbroi-
derry from contact with anything colored.-
There was a half cheerful smile on her face
| say half cheerful, because the other half of
the smile might have been thought bitter or
sarcastic. Evidently she was not quite at
ease, and the scanty appointments of her
apartment would seem to intimate that pow
erty might have tried her somewhat too Sc
verely. An open letter, apparently just re-
ceved was lying on the wipdow-sll Ii bore
the post-inark of Boston, and was dated the
day previous. She took it up and read it
again. Her voice in reading was as bitter as
her smile. 1t was an invitation, couched in
no very cordial terms, from sister of her de-
ceased mother, to spend a few weeks with
the time was one of busy preparation for win
ter clothes, she would be expected to assist
in making them, as an equivalent for the great
courtesy extended TO her.
Margaret Ashlcy's mother was the sister
of rich widow in Boston, who hal never
noticed her since her mFriage. The one
had been the wife of a poor clergyman, who
had died almost in his pulpit, worn out with
toiling for 4 scanty living-the other had
married rich man, who had long ago for
gotten the mean and sordid way in which his
wealth had been accumulated. Under her
fathers tuition, Margaret hal become a fine
scholar. lie Ia int,n led her for teacher,
but the long illness of both her parents hal
~ CAHdunici HNE StIcilssAH, 'Hdt Slc was u'"-
BE 10 attempt it, even il She had hal an OPP
por.ugiy 10 10 SO; and sn her really fine
taleais and her strongly intellectual chara:
ter were merged in the effort to support her
self by nccdiework.
One only resource she availcd herself Of
This was an old, but finely toned piano; which
her father had bought for almost nothing at
a sale of household goods. When Margaret
was quite young, She had taken lessons in
music and her quick car and aptitude at
learning hal supplied the place Of more care
ful practice. When she had sold from her
furniture all that could be spared, during the
heavy time Of sickness, no one would make
even an offer for thc old-fasi;onci instrument,
and 50 it remained, almost the only thing OF
any value in her room. Bat when the
day was ended for work, instead of sitting
down to brood over her troubles, she lad
played through the twilight hours, until sic
had really acquired a fine touch--and her
voice, always sweet and pleasant, ha : attain
cd frnncss and volume which in city
might have insured her compc .isation. But
who would seek out the poor and fricndless
ginl and what couI'i she do in a small coun-
try town that would oc at all remunerative
save to sew from morn till night at almost
starving p.ices2 she had often heard of her
Aunt MORRISON, and her great wealth, but she
had never seen her. And as she looked
around the poor room, and upon her thin,
wasted hands, she resolved to %. Perhaps
something might happen to "turn up y which
would make this eternal toll unnecessary, or
at least better paid. She would try.
She wrote to accept the aunt's invitation,
but it was cold, brief note, surprising in
coIdness and brcvity the invitation itself;
and she appointed the following week for her
visit, without naming any particular day.
On the succeeding Thursday, after finishing
the little cloak, and receiving the hardly
wrung pittance for which she had wrought
it with such elegance of design and execution,
she packed her small trunk, and with her
plain, gray wooden dress, checked shawl,
straw bonnet and cotton gloves-all perfect
ly neat and whole, and haTmonizing in the
soft, ueutral tint of each garment, she set ont
to make her first visit to the great city. The
ride was cold one The wind blew clouds
of dust into the stage-coach by which she
Travelled, and her hair and complexion soon
showed its effects. She arrived just before
dark on that wintry afternoon, stunned with
the noise OF the streets, and glad when the
driver turned his horses into the more quiet
region of Mount Vernon Street, and into a
shorter one where rose the imposing mansion
of Mrs Morrison.
Unfortunately for the lady's pride, she had
that day received company for dinner. Many
of the guests came in carriages that blocked
up the way, and only by skillful maneuycr-
ing could the country stage be brought up
TO the door. The windows were lined with
faces, bHt fortunately Margaret did not see
them. She was occupied in gathering up
her box and carpet-bag, and finding her purse