Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1862-05-12

about fifteen bright, joyous, beautiful
creature, without thought of sadness in
her, or the faintest shadow of the gloom
that rested on her sisters. Even now, al
though she had lived for three years in the
chilling atmosphere that surrounded them,
she was still unchanged, almost even as
much a child-as gay, thoughtless, and
full of Joy, as when she first came. It re-
reminded one of snowdrop blooming in
the winter, forcing itself through the very
midst of the surrounding snow, to see how
she had grown up with this cold, wintry
environnenk. But the gloomy house look.
ed less gloomy now that Gabrielle lived
in it. There was one little room with
window looking to the south Zone of three
that had sunny aspect which she took
to be her own, and there she would sit for
many hours, working by the open window,
singing joyously, with the sunlight stream
ing over her beautifully, and the breath of
the sweet flowers that she had planted in
a garden as close under her windows as
the sun would come, stealing deliciously
into the room. It was quite pleasant lit
tie nook, with view far over green undu-
lating hills and yellow waving corn-ields,
which sparkled and glittered ike plains of
moving gold in the drep bright rays of the
setting sun. And Gabrielle, sitting here
and gazing on them, or roaming alone
amongst. them, was quite happy and light
hearted. Even her sisters were thawed
and softened By her presence; and, think.
felt as much love for her as it was in their
nature to feel for any one; for, indeed, it
! was impossible to resist altogether her
cheering influence, which spread itself over
every thing around her with the warmth
of sunshine.
On this evening on which our tale e
!. gins, and for some days previous to it, Ga
brielle had been graver and quieter than
she often was. She Joined her sisters now
in the common sitting room and, with
her work In her hand, sat down beside
them near the window, but she answered
!, their few questions about her evening ram
Y bic with only feigned gayety, as though
Is was. .aecnpled H1tAs other. thsnghts. or
/ = as too weary TO talk and, presently, as
the twilight gathered round them, they
all sank into silence. The one window
looked across the road in which the house
stood, to dark plantation Of stunted trees
that grew opposite very gloomy place,
= which even in the hottest summer-day,
: had always chill, ntry-feeling, and from
. which even now damp air was, rising
u and, entering the open window, was spread
ing itself through the room.
How unlike summer evening it is in
s this roomv Gabrielle suddenly broke the
a silence by exclaiming almost impatiently,
/ wish l could, even for once, see a ray
Il of sunshine in it. | have often wondered
) how any one could build house in this
;, situation
q And do you never imagine that there
" are people who care less for sunshine than
e you do, Gabrielle p Bertha asked, rather
y sadly. ..
A. Yes, certainly, sister but still it seems
~ to me almost like sin to shut out the
re beautiful heavens sunlight as it has been
, shut out in this house. Winter and sum-
: mer, it is always alike. If it was not for
70 my own bright little room up stairs, l think
< / never should be gay here at ALL
Z 'Well, Gabrielle, you need not complain
u of the gloominess of this room just now,
= Miss Vaux said. AT nine o'clock on al
20 August evening | suppose all rooms look
Us pretty much alike
ie Oh, sister, nop Gabrielle cried
III Have you ever noticed the different kinds
le of twilight? Here, in this house, it is al
e' ways winter twilight, quite colorless, ane
cold, and cherries, but in other places
IA where the sun has shone, it is warm ane
; soft, and beautiful even for an hour, O
u longer, after the sun has quite set, fain
re rosy tinge, like warm breath, seems t
&c rest upon the air, and to shed such peac
'e' and almost holiness over every thing
Us That was the kind of twilight, think c
en- it so often, that there used to be at home
cit l remember, so very, very long ago, how
Sts used to sit on the ground at my mother
Ia, feet in the summer evenings, looking on
y, nu through the open window at the dear oil
'tn garden, where every thing was so yer
IFS still and quiet that it seemed to me th
Ike very trees must have fallen asleep, an
OIL how she used to tell Us fairy stories in tn
twilight Sisters, do you remember it
e Gabrielle asked, her voice tremulous,. br
ne' not altogether, so it seemed, with emotio
Id that the recollection bad called up.
uU, Miss qua odiu' III d voice Gle;
y aud cold, and hard rs ice. From Berth
there came no answer
- 1t is one of the few things recolle
,n about her, Gabrielle said again, vel
o. softly, the rest is almost all indistine
1 of like half-forgotten dream. l was on
four years old, you say, Joanna when 81
rod died 2
80 You know it; why do YOU ask 2! hi
a