Cincinnati daily press. [volume] (Cincinnati [Ohio]) 1860-1862, 1861-12-19
4 CHARNLLNG STORY.
Paul BrOwnell's Little sister.
BY META VICTORIA VICTOR.


with water-lilies and moss. Upon q step
at the foot of this basin, reading book,
and with one fair hand, lovely and white
as the water lilies beside it, carelessly dip
ping into the fountain, unconscious of OBJ
servation, sat young girl. 1t needed but
one glance to tell me it was Shsl Magnet
ism, destiny, fate, or what not, had drawn
me, as by o golden chain, straight to that
lovely country-home which my Imagination
had pictured months ago. She sat there in
o simple dress of white muslin, rose in
her bosom, and another in her uncovered
hair-glorious hair, flowing in soft golden
brown masses about her temples and neck,
making the fairness of her forehead more
pure, and deepening the delicate waye of
color on her cheeks. An "arrow of sunset
seemed to fasten the rose in her tresses, and
another fell athwart the circlet of gold
binding the round arm which upheld the
book.
My heart throbbed to suffocation. As 1
grew calmer l felt that ought not to stand
there, like thief, gloating upon this uncon-
scious treasure. | was ashamed to gaze,
and yet | could not tear myself away, pass
on to night, and loneliness and hunger of
the heart, leaving this world of beauty and
delight-this paradise, guarded by the fam
ing sword of-wealth Yes that was the
flaming sword which kept me out. If
had not been poor, and she been rich,
would have made some simple excuse, and
walked into this home which l knew was
fitted to appreciate and could not possibly
degrade. If she had been mystic maiden,
drawing water from the well, should have
stepped to her side and asked the common
boon of q cup of cold water. 1t was only
because she was rich that she was so far
away from me. 1 could only approach the
portals offs home like hers with proper Gre
dentials. l looked down at my dusty gar
ments and worn shoes-what had o wan
dering artist to do with the hospitalities of
this fine country-mansion l have said
that was handsome, and that had an air
of such elegance as to cause me to become
the favorite model of certain fashionable
tailors; but l was not looking my best on
this occasion. My wardrobe had grown
shabby for want Of renewal, and the dust
and toll Of warm days travel had not i'm
proved it; my artist-kit would of course be
taken for peddler's pack, and the great
white dog which l saw walking about in
state on the broad avenue would doubtless
show his teeth if approached him in my
present guise.
Sadly looked and longed, and turned
away; but, az trudged little onward,
whom should | meet but the magnificent
Miss Theresa Tallmadge, of thecity, riding n
black horse, and looking more beautiful even
than in the atmosphere of Broadway store
She regarded me curieusly as passed. and
just as | hoped that had escaped her re-
cognitiOn, she drew rein, and said, pleas
antly;
"NIr. Brownell, surely Where are you
going, and what are you doing? You
needn't say, for read the whole story; out
on a sketching tour. Uncle will be de-
lighted; ne is very fond of pictures, and
makes pets Of all the artists. Where are
you stopping ?"
"Really, hardly know, Miss Tallmadge.
may take lodgings in a new-mown hay
stack tonight, if | can find one. I've been
go enchanted by this delicious country road
that have wandered on regardless Of con-
sequences"
"Take lodgings in haystack That
sounds very pretty, Mr.. Brownell, but it
wouldn't be half so romantic in reality. You
know what the poet says:
Aud wake up with a bug ia your ear
Uncle would not forgive me if l permitted
il and as there is no comfortable resting
place for the next five miles, and you lool
too weary to walk the distance, shall take
the liberty of inviting you, in his name, tt
tarry with u.s.
She said all this very courteously, and
with more warmth of hospitality than / had
given her class the credit of possessing bu
that mean weakness Of personal Vanit,
which made me ashamed of my present ap
pearance caused me to refuse her kindnes,
What was TO her or that maiden readin
by the fountain that l should exalt my prid
into refusing passing hospitality, for whic
felt grateful, yet would not except2
.. Twas passing on, with half-uttered thank
when little wicket gate opened just {
my side, and the fair reader appeared boo
in hand. blushed; but so did she, or eli
! imagined it.
"YOu have come just in time to secon
my invitation to our wandering friend
stop with us TO night, Cousin Marion. Mil
Tallmadge, allow me to present to you NJ
BroWnell. He is an artist, after yoU
fathers special liking, and think it Il
bad that he should be allowed to throw hin
self upon a hRystack for hospitality, whe
We have q spare chamber, don't you ?"
"I do, MIR. Brownell. We should be reall
happy to have you visit us. Come in, will
out word Of apology"
The simple franEness Of her voice com
Peiled my obedience. / would have bee
ehurllsh 10 doubt the earnestness of thes
two beautiful women, evidently 50 generou
in their impulses. -TI'-..'7 =,
iJf you will excuse the dust Of travel
and allow me to give you as slittle trouble a
possible, l williaccept your hospitality a
frankly as it is preferred. e-io"t'
walked beside my young hostess, an
her cousin kept pace with us, refining in he
spirited horse. .,srs--,..... ...
"Don't think we are not acquainted vii
you, Mr.. .Brownell," continued Theresa
''my father knew yours years ago, and hOI
Ored him. We had hoped to bring about a
acquaintanee last winter, when that terrib
accident prevented. We heard Of it, an
s.-- Ar-r-+ ~