The Union and journal. [volume] (Biddeford, Me.) 1858-1882, 1867-07-12
@isfelIautnns.
LONG AFTERWARDS.
IT r. .. ARTHUR.

~. .'' II Ts Be- ARTHUR
"Your coldness hurt Mrs. Lincoln" said
one lady to another.
Elm sorry," answered Tho lady to whom,
the remark was addressed; but the udmis-
sion Of regret was not made with any feel'
6Why do you treat her with distant re-
serve, Mrs. Arnold! I've noticed this q
number Of times, She's an excellent lady
We all like her exeeedingly." -.
The eyes Of Mrz Arnold fel! to tho floor
her face became grave.
81 wonder that you do not fancy Mrs-
Lincoln. Shes lovely charactcr-so intel.
ligcnt, 30 refined. and with a sweet spirit
towards every one. The fault must he In
YOURSELF II there Is any natural repulsion."
Il was an intimate friend who spoke, and
the closing sentence was uttered with
smile. .trr.lH =.
"ln that you may be right" said Mrs
Arnold, half smiling in return: -.
"Thcn there is a felt rcpulsionf"
eyes" 20 of. H .'' "-
I call that singular. To mo Il seems that
you were horn for friends. Your tastes and
sympathies run'in the Same direction and
you arc interested In the same general sub.
jects lam sure. if you knew each other as
we'll rs know you both, you would become
closely knit together in friendship. mus
get you into nearer relation to Mrs, Lin
coln." '
"T would prefer remaining ut my present
distance, replied Mrs, Arnold. o.
"Why? There must be reason fol
this"
81 don't like her." ~ '''...'.
"slrs. Arnold I'm surprised to hcal
you speak SO decidedly. Mrs. Lincoln ad'
Inires you; I've heard her say so, often
and wants to know you more intimately
than she does now !" '''
Mrs. Amold's brows began to gather
darkly.,,s =. iar .u-
.What the matter? What do you know
about Mrs. Lincoln, that sets her beyond
the limits Of your friendly acquaintance 7"
"The truth is," said Mrs. Arnold, Give
got an oil grudge against her. There was
time when il would not gratily her socia
pride to call mo her friend-and she treated
me accordingly. She was u woman whcr
! was child" ..... ....
"Well-go on" - .E.I:'...
Mrs. Arnold had paused, for she was con-
scious thut her cheeks were hurning-tha
her voice was losing its stcadincss Of tone.
"Prcl,aps I had as we'll keep SILENT" she
said. "Tho subject is not pleasant one.
.Go on now. You have excited my curl
osity. would like to know exactly how
you stand with Mrs. Lincoln"
"Thcrc may he pride and weakness in
the case" returned Mrs. Arnold. @but nc
matter. Thus it stands: ] wns quick. in.
ielligeut child, but very sensitive. Mrs
Lincoln visited my mother, and often mel
her in the parlor, when company was pres
ent. She was beautiful talker, aud It was
one OF my greatest pleasures to sit and liz
ten. wns really fascinated with her; and
] thought her the lovelest lady l had ever
seen. One day when she was at our house
I sat listening 10 her conversation that was
pussing between her and some other friend
of my mothers, drinking in, I apprchond, q
grrai deal moro than was imagined, and
drinking il in with delight My mother had
left the rooln for some purpose. While she
wns absent, Mrs. Lincoln in speaking ol
prevalent human weakness. quoted coup
let from Pope:
''The love OF Praise, howe'cr concealed by art.
Ruiss moro or less, and glows In every Heart"
Now had read largely In Pope. and held
In memory a great many Of his tersc max
inns Every word of this couplet was fa.
miliar, aud my ear instantly detected one
wrong word In the quotation. In my child
est urtlor and artlessness, said, looking IN
10 Mrs. Lincoln's face;
It's vs,gns, rns'au.
Her eyes turned, flasfcd on me, in an in
s,ant. and with an angry face she said
"You've forgotton yourself, Miss Pert
Children should he seen, not heari."
She never saw or heard me IN the purloI
again. I went out, with hot checks and
heart full of pain and bitterness. was
sensitive to a fault, aud this rcbuke-so l,n-
Justly given hurt me to a degree that few
would imagine. ] never mentioned II to
my mother nor, indeed to any living soul
before this time /; and II is over twenty
years since the slight occurrence My
pride was deeply wounded. She said these
cruel words before two or three other Ia.
dies in whose opinion | wished to stand
well and us a child could not look them
in the iace again. From how much pleas-
,,ro and instruction was ] shut out from
That time, Before. had been anxious TO
incet my mothers intelligent friends; now,
kept myself out Of sight rs much rs pos.
sible, when we had company, for either
Mrs. Lincoln, or some one Of tho ladies'
who had been present when she rcbukcd
mo, was almost sure to be Of the number.
Il has 30 happened. that since became
a woman, Mrs. Lincoln and | have, until re.
Gently, moved In different circles grew
IN out Of her observation, and married. u
Is more than probable that abe has entirely
forgotten the incident which burnt into my
childish memOy-mny not now remember
me as the daughter of her old friend. But
have not forgotten, and can never forget.
Grown 20, pie fail to remembeS In their
treatment OF children, that boys and girls
have memories, and that boys and girls, In
few yean, become men and women.
And now, my friend, you have the secret
Of my repugnance to Mrs. Lincoln. She
pusl,ed me AWAY from her once, but she
will never have second opportunity.
"'rhe child's resentnepts should not ac-
company, into after life. the memory"
said the friend, as Mn Arnold ceased.
"blrs. Lincoln spoke from a sudden serse
Of wounded pride, and, no doubt repented
In the next calm moment Your mature
reason, your observation, nnd your acquired
selt.knowledge, should set YOU right in this
matter. II was no, the best side of her ma.
,ire that presented itself then, but her
worst side perhaps. ! have my worst
side, and show Il, sometimes, To other pco.
pie; aud It IL just the sano with you. But
neither Of Us would like this wort % gov
em common es,imsiiou. Mono, my
friend. You arc wrong in letting that oLl
grudgc, az you call It. remain.
-ForgIvs and fSrgst Why. the world would 30
Tho garden wilderness len 10 dsfocm,
II ia hswsn but rsnsmbersd The chilling winds