Delaware tribune. [volume] (Wilmington, Del.) 1867-1877, 1867-01-24
q gleasius Storg
AMERICAN RURAL LITE.
FRoM HARpER's MAGAzINE.]
OLD AUNT MATILDA.
IN TWO PARTS.

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His fathers house was two miles distant
from the small tenement in which Mrs. Hast
ngs lived, and for the first half mile of the
way he rode slowly, thinking over the con-
strained interview with Tilly, and of their
parting, more like the parting of strangers
than lovers Then saying, "It will all be
right when see her again. will make il
right must y he touched the flank OF his
gay young horse with the silver spur he
wore and gallopcd home, believing that it
was already the same as settled. Lamsie
was at the gate waiting for him.
You od-for-nothing scape grace!
she said, pelting him with roses as he dis
mounted, "I have a great mind never to
speak to you again as long as live! Here
have l been this long half hour watching
and waiting and weeping for you. just look
at my eyes! aren't they all dim with tears?"
And she bent her round, rosy face coquet-
tishly near.
Nathan caught her round the waist and
kissed her, as she perhaps designed that he
should; when, breaking from his arms, she
ran down the walk before him, crying with
mock displeasure, that she would go straight
and tell her mother.
Lamsie was older than Matilda by three
years, but she was only big spoiled child
and what was more, she was incapable of
ever being any thing else. She was one of
those soft, pulpy, rosy creatures, that decay
without ever having ripened into woman
hood. She was pretty to look upon, as
doll is pretty, but she lacked soul and lacked
heart, if the truth must be told. She had
some sentiment, of that shallow character
that is exhausted by year of marriage, and
she had really fine hair and teeth, and a
great many fine dresses, rings, ribbons, and
furbelows. And many man wiser than
Nathan has thought before now that fine
feathers make a fine bird.
The sprightly case and freedom of her
manners contrastcd, to his thinking, charm
ingly with the shy ways and bashful sinceri-
ty of the country-bred girls with whom he
was acquainted. Then every man has his
weak hour, not to say weak side; and, be-
sides, there are things happening about us
all the time that we do not pretend to ac-
count for--as for instance how the snake
charms the bird; but that it is done we all
know, though doubtless the bird, once out
of the awful jaws, would be able to give us
very little light upon its case.
"And where is Mrs. Hastings and Matil-
da ?" inquiries the mother of Nathan as he
goes into the tea-room Then it came out
that he had not asked them to come home
with him TO tea, but only for the evening.
"Well," says Mrs Armstrong, in great dis
pleasure, sit is no wonder they didn't come.
would not have accepted such poor in-
yitation neither"
Nathan was perhaps little humiliated that
his mother should be cross with him, ant
perhaps too anxious to appear independent
before his cousin Lamsie, and made haste
to say that for his part he was quite willing
that both Mrs. Hastings and her daughter
should do as they chose he certainly hat
not urged them.
"Suppose we run over after tea," says
Lamsic, smiling her sweetest, 'and fctcl
them home with us?'
1t was not that she cared SO much for thu
disappointment of Nathans mother, bu
rather that she liked the prospect of Ion!
walk with Nathan; and besides, she wa
one of those restless creatures that are ney
er satisfied more than five minutes an.
where.
.That would be fetching them day afte
the fair, says Mrs. Armstrong, who did no
like the prospect Of the long moonlight wal
for her son with the like of Lamsie.
But Nathan said, quickly, "We will g
and pass the evening with them, then; W
are not obliged to fetch them the day afte
the fair"
T 'sThat will do better:n Mrs Armstron
says, seeing that she could not prevent tn
e- moonlight ramble; and then she says sh
,ss will go along and "make her apology at an
ne rate, since Nathan is no more to be trustee
of sim sorry didn't know your mind mt
I'M ther,' says Nathan.
Sim sorry you don't know your own
she answers, sharply; and then there wa
silence till Lamsie broke in with
Come now, good, sweet Aunt Arm
strong, don't be cross with poor Nat. Th
lilly has shown him the cold shoulder, that
er, evident, and no wonder it put things out
ofhis head Own the truth now, Nat, isl
it so?.
And then she clapped her hands al
laughed, asking him ifhe didn't feel lit
bit better as times went on. Then she II
I, round to him at the table where he sat, al
put great lump of sugar in his tea, to NAL
up, she said, for deficiency of accustom'
sweetness Then she teased him about i
hair, and told him she knew he had be-
trying to make himself irresistible, and tn
she had never in all her life seen him lot
so awfully ugly "Just see for yourself
she cried, holding him round the neck, al
forcing him to see himself in the polish
bowl of his teaspoon.
SIT was too bad of you, Lamsie, VIII
pered Nathan, as his mother was putti
away the tea things.
To which the girl replied that she was OIL
just in fun, and she was so sorry, and wor
he forgive her if she'd kiss him, and prom
never to do so any more?
Yes, he would forgive her on those tern
And so she kissed him, and then she $,
it was all true she had been saying, and $
would say it again, and then she ran lauG
ing away.
swell, Tilly, shall we go and see t
charming Miss Lamsie, or whatever
beautiful name may -" Mrs. Hastings !
said when the evening work was DONE
Matilda had burst into tears at that,
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