The Charleston daily news. [volume] (Charleston, S.C.) 1865-1873, 1869-12-25
BY ANTHONY TRoLLoPE.

We have known many prettier girls than
Mary 6resley, and many handsomer women,
but we never knew girl or woman gifted with
q face which In suppllcation was more suasive,
In grief more sad, In mirth more merry. II
was face that compelled sympathy, and 1t
did 30 with the conviction on the mind OF the
sympathizer that the girl was altogether un-
conscious OF her own power. In her inter-
course with US there was, alas much more OF
sorrow than Of mirth, and we may truly say,
that in her suferings we suffered; but still
there came to us from our Intercourse With
her much Of delight mingled with the sorrow;
and that delight arose, partly no doubt tiOm
her woman's charms, from the bright eye, the
beseeching mouth, the soft little hand, and
the feminine grace of her unpretending gar
ments; but chiefly, we think, from the extreme
humanity of the girl. She had little, indeed
none, OF that which the world calls society,
but yet she was pre-eminently social. Her
troubles were very heavy, but she was making
ever an unconscious effort to throw them aside,
and to be jocund In spite OF their weight. She
would even laugh at them, and at herself as
bearing them. She was q little. fair-haired
creature, with broad brow and small nose and
dimpled chin, with no brightness Of complex
ion, no luxuriance of hair, no swelling glory of
bust and shoulders; but with pair of eyes
which, as they looked at you, would be gem
med always either with tear or with some
spark of laughter, and with mouth in the
spark of humor, unless when some unspoken
prayer seemed to be hanging on her lips. OF
woman's vanity she had absolutely none. Oh
her corporeal self, as having charms To rivet
mans love, she thought no more than dog.
It was fault with her that she lacked that
quality Of womanho0d. To be loved was to
her all ti,e world; unconscious desire for the
admiration of men was as slrons IN her as
In other women; and her instinct taus"!
r. ,of, tpo n
such love and admiration was to be the fruit
Of what feminine gifts she possessed; but the
gifts on which she depended-depending on
them without thinking on the matter-were
/. her softness, her trust, her womans weakness,
and that power of supplicating by her eye
without putting her petition into words whicn
was absolutely Irresistible. Where is the man OF
tifty. who in the course Of his life has not
learned to love some woman simply because 1t
has come in his way to help her, and to be
good to her in her strugglesy And If added to
that source of affection there be brightness,
some spark Of humor, social gifts, and strong
flavor of that which we have ventured to call
humanity, such love may become almost q
passion without the addition Of much real
beauty.
II.
Mary Gresley, at the time when we first
knew her, was eighteen years old, and was the
daughter of q medical practitioner, who had
lived and died in q small town in one OF the
northern counties For facility in telling our
story we will call that town Cornboro. DR..
Cresley, as he seemed to have been called,
though without proper claim to the title, had
been diligent man, and fairly successful, ex-
cent In this, that he died before he had been
able to provide for those WHOM 5e lett behind
him. The widow still had her own modest
fortune, amounting TO some eighty pounds
year; and that, with the furniture OF her mouse,
was her whole wealth when she found herself
thus left with the weight of the world upon
her shoulders. There was one other daughter
older than Mary, whom We never saw, but
who was always mentioned as poor Fanny
There had been no sons. and the family con-
sisted OF the mother and two girls. Mary
had been only fifteen when her father
died, and up to that 'me had been re-
garded quite as a chi by all VINO had
known her. Mrs Gresley, in the hour Of her
need, did as widows do in such cases. She
sought advice from her clergyman and neigh
bors, and was counselled to take lOdger into
her house. No iodger could be found so fitting
as the curatc, and when Mary was seventeen
years old, she and the curate were engaged 10
Be married. The curate paid thirty pounds Il
wear for his lodgings, and on this, with her
own little income, the widow and her two
daurhters had managed to live. The engage
ment was known to them all as soon as il had
heen known to Mary. The love-maSing, in
deed, had gone on beneath the eyes Of the
mother. There had been not only no deceit,
no privacy, no separate interests, but, as far
as we ever knew, no question as to prudence
in the making OF the engagement. Inc TWO
Young people had been brought toSether, ll;i'i
loved each other, az was so natural, ana had
become engaged as a matter OF course. 1t
was an event as easy to be foretold, or at
least as easy to be believed, as the pair,
ing of two birds From what we heard OF
this curate, the Rev. Arthur Donne-tor we
never saw him-we fancy that ne was sim