The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1866-01-27

head more drearily than ever Poor child,
fear II is on unfortunate attachmentlp
] frightened up-so much so, that my sister
looked, nay, gently limited, her conviction that
was "brute.n She expected would have been
as sorry as she was '
mo, Martha; am rather glad. Glad. after
my experience ofthese Fortunate love-afIairs, to
find that one of my sisters has the womanly
courage, unselfshness, and simplicity to con-
ceive an unfortunate attachment
Perhaps this speech hurt Martha, and vet it
aeed not. She and both knew aud respected
one anothers youth; and if we differed In opi
MON concerning our middle age, why-I was as
She did not at first reply; and then, without
comment, she explained to me her uneasiness
about Constantia. The girl bad long PLAYED
confdante to Mr.. Archer in the matter of Ange
line, and, as often happens, the confdante had
unwittlngly taken too great interest in one of
her principals, until she found herself envyng
the lot OF the other When Mr.. Archers dis
missal finally broke of ali his intercourse with
our family, there was ono OF my sisters who
missed him YEARLY, cruelty; and that was-not
Angeline.
/ was touched. Now, no doubt Constantia
had been very foolish; no doubt she had nour-
shed and encouraged this fancy, as romantic
girls do, in moonlight walks and solitary
| dreams, hugging her pain, and deluding herself
| that 1t was bliss. Little doubt, likewise, that
| the feeling would wear itself out or fade slowly
| away in ie's stern truths; but at present 1t
| was most sincere passion, sad and sore.
| Foolish ana romantic as 1t might be, in itself
and in its girlish demonstrations, could not
smile at 1t. 1t was real thing, and as such to
| be respected.
Martha and held counsel together and acted
on the result. We took Constantia under our
especial charge; we gave her books to read,
visits to pay, work to do, keeping her as much as
| possible with one or other of us, aud out OF the
| way of the childish Irritation of Cuthbert and
| Charlotte, or of the formal philandering of SIR
| Rowland and the future Lady Griffith Jones.
II sometimes, as Lizzie told me-my little Lizzie,
| who laughed at,love and lovers with the light
| a (iOnatantlA wit
Lottys careless trifing, and curled her lip scorn-
| fully when Angeline paraded the splendors of
her tyoussedu, we tried to lead the girls mind
| out OF herself, and out of dreamland altogether,
! as much as possible. .a
'But suppose, /" Lizzie sagely argued suppose.
! when Angeline is married, Mr.. Archer should
come back He always liked Constantia eX-
| tremely. Who knows butt
shook my head, and desired the little castle
| builder to hold her tongue
She was our sole sharer of the secret; and l
must say, though she laughed at her now and
| then, Lizzie was extremely loving and patient
| with Constantla. After time, we left the two
| girls wholly to one another, more especially as
my time was now taken up with my friend
| Launceston.
| Oh the comfort, the relief of the society of
| man Ia real honest man--who had some ster-
| ling aim and object in life-some steady work to
| do-some earnest interest in the advance of the
| world, the duties and pursuits OF his brother
men; who was neither handsome, witty, nor
| accomplished; who rarely shone in ladies'
society; IN TACT, rather e6CneWed IL Cnan other
wise. For, he said, nature had untitled him TO
| act the part of mere admlrer, and adverse for
| tune forbade hum to appear in the character OF a
lover; so he kept aloof, keeping his own COM
| pany and that of one or two old friends like
| myself.
| l was fond of Launceston; l wished my family
| to like him too; but they were all too busy
about their own affairs. Evening after evening
| | could not get any of my sisters to make tea
| for us, or give us little music afterwards,
except the pale, dull-looking Constantia, or my
bonny rose of June, little Lizzie. AT last, we
| four settled into a small daily company, and
| went out together, read together, talked
| together continually. kept these two younger
ones as much as possible in our unromantic
tauncestons in its thorough cheerfulness and
| healthiness of tone, might unconsciously have
| good influence upon Constantia.
| The girls spirit slowly began to heal. She
| set aside her dreaming, and took with all the
energy of her nature to active work-women's
! work-cbarity school-teaching village-visiting
and the like. She put little too much ''ro.
nance" into all she did still; but there was life
| IN it, truth, sincerity.
''Mss Constantia will make an admirable lady
| of-all-work," said Launceston in his quaint way
watching her with his kindly and observant
eyes. The world wants sucn. She will find
And SO she did: enough to steal her, too, from
my side, almost as much as the three tidncees
The circle in my study dwindled gradually down
| to Lizzie, Launceston, and me.
| had rarely had SO much OF my pet sisters society:
had never found it so pleasant. True, she was
| shyer than usual, probably from being with us
| two, older and wiser people-men likewise-but
| she listened to our wisdom so sweety-she bore
with our dry long-worded learning so patiently
| that my study never seemed itself unless had
the little girl seated at my feet sewing quietly
| in the window corner. And then she was COM
pletely 'little glrl:" had no forward ways-no
| love notions, or, ten times worse, marriage
notions, crossing her innocent brain. / felt
| sure l could take her into my closest heart
form her mind and her principles at my will,
and one day make a noble woman OF her, after
the pattern ot-But l never mentioned that
sacred name.
[ loved Lizzie-loved her to the core of my
heart. Sometimes with fatherly more than even
brotherly PRIDE used to talk to Launceston OF
the schild's sweetnesses, but he always gave me
short answers 1t was his way. His laconism
in most things was really astonishing for a man
under thirty.
safely over, ard the house had sunk into a
pathetic quietness that reminded one OF the
evening after a funeral-at least so / thought
| -Launceton and fell into discussion, which
stirred him into more demonstrativeness than
usual The subject was men, women, and
marriages.
81 am convinced" he said, that shall never
marry"
1t was not my first hearing of this laudable de-
termination; so let it pass, merely asking his
| reasons.
because my concience, principles, and feel
| ines go totally against the system OF matrimony,
as practised in the world especially the world ol
womankind. All the cOurCmg and proposing, the
| presents and the loveetters, the dinners to rela
lives and congratulations of friends, the mar
riage guests and ge.settlements, the white
lace, white satin, and white fayOrs, carriage,
positions, and all. Heigh-ho, Heathcote, what
l fools men are ~