The Xenia sentinel. [volume] (Xenia [Ohio]) 1863-186?, 1863-08-25


undertOne.
"POOr little dear, the storms of adversely havt
assailed her in the early morning Of her life
Pour IN little more water, Felicity, dear. She
has Just lost her father, and her mother viii be
hearing the angels sing before long; so she send:
her here through the week, so that the separa,
ton may be gradual
Poor dear who told you7"
There, I knew it would not come out. Just
strain your sccustoTsd ears to hearken to an
extempore lecture from Miss Pardoe. That Is
the second new dud gone up on first day. Who
told me? That clever bird, Marion, at her old
vocation, listening at key-hOles May she be
blessed with earaches this term. She spun 9
long romance about how they had been wealthy
and her father died bankrupt; but you know
she is so given to eXaggeratiOn that one does net
know the exact beginning 0I story, she IS such
! a liar, you know, saving the presence of any one
who msy be listening at the key-hOle. This
! yeungster, as any one possessing the full num-
Der Of senses allotted to eTring humanity might
do, objected to staying here. She got up a reg
uiaF tragedy, a Ia Siddons, for Miss Pardoe's es-
/ pecial entertainment Marion was door-keeper,
1 you know. The mother tainted, and a carriage
had to be called, although she boards Just round
at Mrs. Wilson's, where the Governor is The
Lord prosper him."
"Be still, irreverent creature. Do you know,
sister Nell tried to dose me with the news that
Mort had written to her?" .
s,NOrt?" laughed her companion. NsUeT,
Girley; it would have taken her all the vacation
to decipher his penmanship. Botheration on
that history bell l'
will you sit by me and prompt, Fidget dear
l have not had minute to prepare"
"Fidget dear" made some laughing remark,
and they we're gone. sprang of my bed with
fho fall -c
mother. This was the first knowledge had Of
her fainting and consequent illness. What if 1
had killed her in my cruel anger? A dreadful
terror seized hold Of me. Torturing thoughts
sped through my brain. I dare not hope. I
dare not pray Gods mercy. I must 90 at once
to learn the worst that might be. I must do so
secretly. I could not endure the delay of hav-
ing nay freedom questioned I must steal away
like the convicted, guilty creature I felt myself
to be. Cautiously approached the stairs. Nv
way was clear to the first floor. Having reached
the main hall, l hid in an obscure dark corner
A door opened stealthily. Marion glided softly
past me- | could have reached out my hand
and touched her. 1 knew then that my only
safety depended upon my speed would not
wait for my bonnet and wrappings. The parlor
door was open, but there was good deal of loud
talking and laughter. I knew their thoughts
were occupied. Wonld not be defeated in my
purpose. glided boldly past the open door un-
noticed. l turned the great key with nervous
hands, and resOlutely opened the heavy door,
It closed behind me with bang, Whereupon I
ran down the stone stairs and the walk, and out
Of the gate, never turning backward look un-
6l l reached the corner bFeathless. No one
came inpursuitO Of me. I had not been observed,
50 regaining breath, ran on. remembered
the way. My eyes had made way-marks in
the morning for themselves. The streets were
deserted, that dreary, wintery twilight. LuFing
and invitingly the glow of the freight fell upon
parlOr windows. A yearning sprang up in my
desolate heart as passed. Then 1 said to my
self that I was going home to my mother, and |
my fears died within me. Nv mothers board |
ing-house was a cheerful place. In nv stay of
two days ! had formed an attachment for her
friend, Mrs. Wilson; so, with a thrill of JOY, |
paused at this hOspitable door, with its shining !
plate glimmering white in the dusk Here, too, |
the shutters Of the immense parlor windows |
we're unclosed, and the crimson and lace curtains
being parted, one csughta sight Of the handsome 1
paintings upon the wall and the costly furniture |
and velvet carpet of the parlor, enhanced blythe |
rich, soft CLEAN of the freight A strange /
gladness filed my heart / opened the door |
proudly, unmindful for one moment, and in the |
next had entered the parlOr in sad perplexity
as to whether l should see Mrs Wilson or mother |
first. What would they think of the manner in |
which had come, and the disrespect had |
shown Miss Pardoe3 If my mother were dan /
gerously ILL., she would have sent for me. All /
my resolution forsook me. I threw myself upon |
the nearest sofa and Wept bitterly, regardless of
time and place, utterly abandoned to my grief |
/ was even unconscious Of q hand being placed |
lightly upon my shoulder until some one sat |
down beside me and strong arms were about me. |
Then this somebody quoted Carlyle: ''Tis a |
shriftless thing to be sad;" and was reminded /
of my father in this, his favorite saying. He
had said it time out Of m;ad to me in my child
ish troubles. Even a child could not hear Nor
ton Asbury's voice once, and forget its varying
sweetness. The most common ideas would be /
rendered beautiful poetry in his expression.
have heard Mrs. Wilson say " it was grand to
have him converse upon any subject whatever;
he could invest the most trivial thing with in
terest, and when conversing upon political sub
iects, even though you we're Of the opposite
party, and EOnOrably bigotted in your principles,
you followed that voice until you found yourself
ready to adopt his opinions, for the time being
at least" 1 have listened to him, enraptured,
since then, and have seen a new expression kin
die in Marion Burton's eyes when she listened.
Once she said, when he had been talking fast /
on some pet topic of his, that his words crushed
out of him" and some Of the girls laughed at
- \
trying to hide.
If yOT'-had been standing on the sidewalk
without am the glow Of the fire had attracted
you, your eyes would naturally wander from the
rich ornaments of the room to the graceful
figure of young man bending over a child,
and you would have seen him as I did, looking
up at that moment. No matter about his hight
that was always difficult to determine. His
bearing was majestic, and endowed you with an
idea of a hight which his stature had not at
tained You admire the symmetry and full de-
OF figure whose every movement
is grace, characterized by manly strength The
fine contour Of the head, the waving masses of
black hair, which creates the undyiag admiration
Of the susceptible young ladies Of the institute,
the clustering cUFls above the broad, intellectual
forehead enhancing its pale beauty. The classic
features, the proud black eyes, ever changing
expression with present thought which words
fail to describe, sometimes cold and proud
looking far of, again pleading, earnest, search
ing your heart for lost treasures-anOn, defiant
and dearing, again iTresistihly rOguish. But
when the face is at rest, touching in the melan-
ohOly, unre ting spirit, looking out Of their
depths. The voluptousness of the small
mouth in whose expression mingie ami
able sweetness of disposition and frmness of
purpose, whose curving lips can part in smile of
owing innocence, like child's, or in a stoieal
ierision, whose chill viii strike merringly at
your hearts core, or they will be compressed
with an unainchiug decision until the lines which
mark it seem only those Of harshness and sell
ishness. You notice too the whiteness and the
perfection of form Of the hand, small, almost to
4 deformity. With the full glare of the fire
light upon him I think, like me, you will notice
NJ this. Take this poor picture, falling so
short of the reality Of the beauty and perfection
L attempted to portray, take it away with YOU as
did. Keep it, for the years make no ravishing
changes Of such. To such an one I gave my
full confidence, aud ] believe I poured my
childish troubles into sympathizing ears. His
was a generous, impulsive nature, overlooking
my error, he advised my seeing my mother and {
unlisted in my causp at onpn He rovn mn r |