The native Virginian. [volume] (Orange Court House, Va.) 1867-187?, 1868-08-28
SeIetfeS Cali.
WANTED---A GOVERNESS.

A low, narrow room, the single win
| dow curtain with coarse white muslin,
the floor covered by scanty carpet
somehow, the broad March sunshine
brought out every element of poverty
in the abode of the poor widow and her
daughter.
"Put on a little more coal, Amy"
! said Mrs. Ardenham shudderingly,
drawing her shawl closer around her
frail figure, as she dropped her needle
work; sit is bitter cold this morning."
| Amy obeycd silently, yet she could
not help noticing how nearly the little
stock o fuel was exhausted; and remem-
bering how inadequate their thin purse
was to the replenishment thereof, her
heart sank little. Only little though,
for Amy was not one of these despond-
ing kind. No; she was sunshiny little
creature, full Of bright, infectious hope
fullness-and somehow, in that squalid
room she seemed like fresh rose BIOS
soming in a sandy desert She was
very pretty, with brown tender eyes,
| Just the shade of the heavy braid of her
hair above-a small, coral, mouth, and
| cheek dclicately shaded, and as she took
up the newspaper you couldn't help
noticing what snowy tapercd little
hand she had, with pink-tipped fingers,
and dimples at every joint.
"Mamma," she said suddenly, ehere's
| an advertisement tor governes.
swell, what of it ?" asked her mother.
"Why, mamma, "hesltated Amy ''you
| know we are very poor, and | should
like very much TO earn little money"
| Mrs. Ardenham had bowed her face
upon her hands: and in an instant Amy
was kneeling beside her. "Mamma,
| da rIipor ,1o,,St o,-x, ~ che id =
| "I did not mean to be so foolish, love;
but it all came back to me at that mo-
| mcnt-tle wealth and station we have
lost-the poverty to which we are re-
duced. oh, Amy, it is too hard !"
"But think, mamma " said Amy
cheertully, show delightful it will OBJ
| for me to make all my school accom-
plshments help us along in the world.
| May try for this situation? 1 should
| like it so much. ''fi sHiaaW e1a if
"If you think it best, my child,o ac-
quiesced Mrs. ArGenham, resignedly.
"Then must lose no time, p said A
my, as she began to arrange her hair
and adjust the details of her simple toi-
let. "How do 1 look mammal" She
laughed, when at length she was ready
to depart. And Mrs. Ardenham's ad-
miring, affectionate glance brought the
roses TO her cheeks as she tripped away.
For she did look exquisitely pret-
ty; the coarse shawl graceful curves Il
bout her slender FORM, and the cheap
straw hat with its plain black ribbons
| might have been the most fashionable
| of oonnets wit tout white more be-
coming.
Darling Amy !" pondered the moth
er, as her light footstep died away on
the stairs; "she is u perfect little sun
beam in the darkness of my daily exist
ence. Her heart has never ached with
the bitter pangs of lfe's hardest trials !"
| But Mrs. Anderham was mistaken;
| Amy had tasted the bitter cup--nay, she
/ had drunk it to the very diegs ! afgt
| There was vain of poetic apprecia-
tion somewhere in the tumble of fun
and sentiment, good humor and sarcasm
that constituted Frank Ashley as he lay
lazily on the sofa playing with two or
three golden haired children who were
toddling about the room. "I'll tell YOU
what Lizzie" said he to his sister, who
sat embroidering, .'you spoil those
young imps about as completely as any
mamma OF my acquaintance.
"As il you didn't spoil them ten times
worse !" retorted Mrs. Jay, laughing.
''When succeed in obtaiuing COVER
DtSos DCtiifhpS atAiS WILL TOC pun uiQCl
some sort Of a discipline. But really,
Frank, have always wondered that
you have never married.
"Indeed--why."
"You would make such a nice, do
mestic sort of a husband, you are so fond
of home. know that by that manGv-
ring. Miss Roland laid desperate siege
to the rocky citadel of your heart. but L
thought you dislike her."
"You are very right" he replied;
"sne was 'ndescribably repellent TO
me-"
"Then why"
"Why did l never marry any body
else? Well listen, Lizzie, and I'll tell
you. l was once in love with one of
the sweetest girls, | believe. that ever
walked this earth. 1t was when | was
staying at Brighton; she, too, was spend
ing the winter there. AT first thought
she encouraged my suit, but all at once
she grew cold and distant. determin-
ed at all hazards to kLow my fate, for l
felt how wrethed life would be without
her. But the very evening that | had
resolved to submit my suit to her--we
were both invited to party at Miss
Roland's--I learned that she had left the
town. Miss Roland told me, not in di-
l.. I ~.