The Evansville journal., 1867-12-04
From Every Saturday.
My Aunt'S Pearl Ring.

"That pearl ring, Mabel,-you pre-
fer that to ali the others ?"
/ fancied my aunt spoke In a slight
ly regretful tone, although she had
emptied the contents of her little Jew
el-casket into my lap so carelessly,
and bid me select the trinket which
should be her gift to me on my ap-
preaching wedding-day.
You know / have a strange fancy
for pearls, aunt; but if you have the
slightest affection for this ring, I
would not take it for the world; and
indeed" | added, setting the delicate
little circlet aside, and turning again
to its more glittering fellows, !" dare
say | can find one which pleases me
equally amidst such collection
But with little hasty movement
my aunt threw it back, saying, " No,
no. my dear; if you like it, take it. |
have no affection for it. Heaven
knows | have little cause ever to wish
to see it or hear of it again" And
then, seeing that I looked up in some
amazement at her unusual energy,
she added, with almost scornful
smile, What are jewels to me now?"
We were silent moment or two,
and somehow / felt that, In spite of
the quiet manner with which my still
beautiful aunt sank back in her chair
and resumed her embroidery, | had
inadvertently touched on some pain
full memory, and reused some emotion
which it required all her strength of
will to repress.
She was no ordinary character, as l
well knew. Self possessed and re-
served to a remarkable degree, she
had always inspired me with more awe
and respect than loving confidence; !;
but as she sat there, with the evening
lips firmly compressed, her brows
slightly frowning, something seemed
suddenly to thaw my heart towards
her; and in spite of her frigid man
ner, drew closer to her, and, laying
my head on her knee, said softly, |
fear have panied you, aunt Magda-
len."
Her needle went very fast for few
stitches, and then, as if with some res
olution which cost her an effort to
make, she laid down her work, and
fixing her eyes on mine, gazed at me
for some moments thoughtfully and
intently.
Il am not superstitious. Mabel, as
you know" she began slowly, and
laying her light cold hand on my
head; but [ think before we quite
conclude the matter of the pearl ring,
| should like to tell you its history.
| am not sure that you will think it
an auspicious bridal gift when you
know all about it, and-and me"
Her voice dropped painfully as she
said the last words, and | saw by her
face that the memory Of some past
sorrow was pressing upon her with
force that even her strong will could
scarcely meet and master.
g 1t is not pleasant story to tell,
Mabel, and il is one which, though
known to others, my lips have never
before told; and"
If it is painful to you, dear aunt"
L interrupted quickly, :" do not make
such an effort for ne, then. Never
mind about tire ring, aunt Magdalen:
give me that little cross you used 10
wear,-indeed the only ornament |
have ever seen upon you; [ shall
treasure 1t even more than the pearl
ring" 5n
Hush. my dear. hush!" she ans
wered, more kindly, however, than
was her wont. - I have. made up my
mind to tell you this story. Do not
interrupt me, but listen quietly: and
If you can draw any lesson for your
own future guidance in life, do; and
then, at any rate. some good may re-
suit from my pain.
L was very handsome when [ was
your age, Mabel L was. moreover. ac-
complished; and having lived a good
deal with fashionable cousin In Lon.
don, [ had acquired all the polish of
manner, at least, which the babituai
contact of good society gives. So
when one of my rare visits home I
net and b7eoPe engaged to Lord