The Xenia sentinel. [volume] (Xenia [Ohio]) 1863-186?, 1864-01-19


always to lead an upright, conscientious life,
and to do good as much as lay in my power,
to those about me. I made it plain to myself,
then II do not see it now) that God had pur-
posely ordained that I should come hither,
doubtless for some wise end. Writing now
from this distance, l say that I tremble to ap-
prOach the day of revelation, for God knows
why I turned aside from paths he had ap-
pointed to heathe in cool shade. I was still
talking with myself, having arrived at no
definite conclusion concerning my future,
when the carriage returned.
Mr.. Brown came home with a complacent,
satisfied face, flushed a little from wine, and
declared Clara had made the greatest hit Of
the season.
Mrs Brown was as bright and animated as
when she had gone out to the carriage, but
Clara looked pale and tagged, and her step
was languid. She said they were stupid
set" as I assisted her to undress, for I had
requested to share her room that night. That
was all She was 50 tired her cheek hardly
pressed her pillow ere she was asleep. l
knew she had been bitterly disappointed, but
had expected this ct first, where the crowd
were mostly strangers, or her fathers friends,
and the rooms were close and thronged. She
had been crushed and jammed, was solicited
sources knew Of no escape, and the men had
pressed their attentions upon the novice so
that the women gave vent to their spite in
biting sarcasms that, as was intended, reached
her sensitive ear, and destroyed any solace of
amusement she might otherwise have enjoyed
in the bewildering scene. Even the men
stopped to idle gossip of the day, or talked the
empty fattery which they deemed acceptable
to all women alike. Clara was of that type
who esteem these light frivolous sayings as
direct insults to her understanding.
We had no more quiet, leisure days at Mr..
Browns. He became emerged in Government
business, and handed the two young creatures
of his charge over to the care and training Of
society. He gave the best dinners, and the
most excellent wine graced his table. His
doors were thrown open, and the elite of
Washington thrOnged his house. 1t became
the rendezvous for Congressman, clerks of
the departments, army and navy officers, and
the beautiful, talented or wealthy women of
fashion.
Time swept by in a giIded coach of gaiety
to deafening music. Clara lived a life now.
Her style of beauty, the fact of her being an
heiress, and ready wit, combined with capti-
waiting manners, established her as a belle,
and she had selected from the brilliant train,
with the tide-away from me. I staid up
stairs, except when Clara urged me to come
down to entertain callers, and would not lis
ten to "no." But it was painful to me, be-
cause my position in the family was an IN
derst0od thing among some of these naughty
people, and 1 experienced that cold-shOuldered
pomposity to which society treats its dead
heads. But had two or three especial call
ers Mrs. Clifford, formerly Miss Nelson,
the wife of a Senator, and her sister Minerva,
who sustained the despoiling effects of the
season admirably, and was still looking quite
fresh, with the auxiliary of rouge and the in
visible and becoming cOlors to which she found
it necessary to confne herself altogether now,
so that she was still the rage among the Con-
gressmen, turning their heads, although their
stony hearts had not yetsurrendered to her
charms. They cOurted my friendship, and l
am sure I was grateful then. I learned from
Minerva that Mr.. Asbury had sailed for Eu-
rope, but would be in correspondence with her.
I also inferred they were engaged, although
the time of their marriage had net been set
tied yet. l wondered why she had made me
her confdant, but 1 had so little opportunity
of spreading the rumor, if it had pleased me
to start it, that I supposed she thought she
might trust me with her secret. l congratu-
lated her, and she blushed and looked sim
cerely happy, for she loved Mr.. Asbury to the
extent Of her capacity.
After she was gone I escaped to my room,
and sat quietly with my hands folded on my
lap. The sight of books and the sound of
music, the scent of mignOnette and geranium
in fragrance from the vase of flowers, and the
subdued wintery sunlight through the crimson
curtains stifed me. I could hear Mr. Charles
singing in the drawing-room below, Mr.. As
bury's favorite, You'll Remember Me; the
voice rang outdistinctly When hollow hearts
shall wear a mask" so that l seized paper and
pencil and sought to drown the sounds that
echoed to me long after he had closed the in
strument. In working over one of our old
problems in Geometry, but it had lost the IA
cility to puzzle me, Mrs. MOreland came to
tell me that the cooks little girl was very i'll
of fever. 1 hurried to her bedside, and took
charge of her day and night until the crisis
was passed, filling up any spare time 1 had
in working some needed additions to her
wardrobe. After that l returned Minerva's
CALL and we talked over Mr.. Asbury with per-
feet ease We became very intimate. She
was so kind to me, paying so much particular
attention that it became a matter Of self-re-
proach that I could not entirely recipTOcate
the affection she betrayed. Still became ac-
customed to going there when I seemed COM
fortress, or was drowned down in the depth of
cunui, and she always extended a helping
hand. Clara was occupied, or was blue her
self for the world of pleasure was at times
desibhsi0HHee that could not trouble her with
my dismals, and in fact there had come Un-
willingly, a little reserve between us, although
we wore our rings still. I had half a mind
to ask her to leave mine off, only because it
looked so insignificant, and then in company
with the rich, heavy work that encompassed
her costly jewels, and, worse than that itwas
Old-iashioned. But | was afraid Of offending
my best friends, and entertained misgivings
as to my being able to give hers mp. l wore
it on the finger the Romans devoted 10 pledges
Of affection, and there was q nerve In my
heart that was terribly shaken when l praC-
ticed to myself the drawing Of it off. 1t is on
my finger to-day. and it is worn quite thin,
and whoever of those whom | love, who shall
stand over me at the last. viii see that it is
left with me in my coffin. So | went to Min
erva when I was out Of sorts. Her life ap-
pearcd 50 calm and unruflied. She was well
coutcnted with her lot, her circumstances
and all things in general but it would have
been q shame if she were not, because her
lines had fallen in pleasant places and she
knew no dissltihed longing, no aspirations
going out toward the unattainable. The an
aims and desires of her life were
all fulfilled. She was wont to meet with that
placid smile which quelcd the patu.ant spirit
within me. Her voice had always that low,
accent that no anger hastened, no
sorrow broke. She was most excellent dis
ciplincd woman; she allowed ne of the triv-
ial anuoyauces Of life to manifest themselves
in her usual manaer, lest they detract from
tho di~nitv of her General denpln0r and she
was secured from the Tightening Effects that
any misfortune could cast upon her by the
Of a cold disposition that even the
death of what she loved best, would have been
Intellectual IN changing an iota in that equal
But it did not oppress me then,
it rather soothed my pertur6ed spirit like an
nninLn. l ms.l Ln como nMaN cnnsilcElhLE !