The Republican journal. [volume] (Belfast, Me.) 1829-current, 1870-10-13
DR.. GRAY'S PATIENT.

Aunt Attic Starbright the sweetes' and
handsomest old maid that ever the sun shone
upon. | don't believe she had an enemy in
all the wide world | am sure she had none
in Rosehand our own sweet village that
struggled amidst the hills.
Who can tell why some people never mar
ry? Nivacious, charming, even up to forty.
she was the very one to storm hearts. 1T
she ever had offers, she kept the matter close.
but | enjoy my own private opinion that she
was often importuned to change her state of
single blessedness. The word is no misno-
mer in her casc-it was blessedness with her
through life
Picture to yourself a fair, sunshiny face,
with the gladdest most innocent blue eyes you
ever saw, with curls on each side of the am
pie forehead, white as silver, with a smile
that made you happy for hours after you
missed it, with a low, gentle voice as sweet
As music, and then you have the aunt Attic
whom the children, and do believe, the very
dumb cattle loved. Her flowers, trees birds
and sunshine always seemed the brightest in
Rosebank. Everything she did, looked and
said, was refined into something rarer than
common Her bread, meats, pastry, were
always better than any tasted elsewhere.
The only marvel was that Lurline Star
bright had lived to be nineteen and had
never been to Rosebank before. We all
wondered what the gay, fashionable, beauti-
| iul young creature would think of aunt Attic,
and tried in numberless ways to find out.
/ Somehow, after she came from her city
home, we tancied there was a shadow on
aunt Attie's face-that her laugh was not so
clear. When we asked after her niece, she
always said:
"Lurly is not very well; she came out
here to get rested. BY and by, hope she
will come among you, She plays and sings
sweetly, and | do want to see the color in
her cheeks, poor child ~
"Ill bet she's been crossed in love-" said
Mandy White, who was not over choice in
her language, and some way we all came to
that conclusion.
But to my story.
''Dr. Gray" cried a clear, cheerful voice
one morning.
The doctor stopped old 'president"
grand Old horse he was, too-and looked
out. Aunt Attic stood at one OF the bed
room windows; she seemed anxious
The cottage, standing back among lilac
bushes and morning glories and Towering
vines, was indulging in its usual bath OF
sunshine. The hearts of the luscious flowers
seemed glad rs the soft warmth flushed their
red and purple blossoms. The air was all
redoent Of country fragrance; young clover,
reddening at the first breath of June, among
the short grasses; here and there Il rose
bursting out of budhood, shining and blush
ing, while the gum of the spruce trees, fell
like amber tears down the smooth straight
trunks of the pines, contributing their share
Of spicy aroma to make glad the young sea-
son coyly approaching
''Good morning, aunt Attic" said the doc
tor; Cline day, isn't it? Your garden is as
| fragrant and beautiful rs ever"
"Thcn come into the parlor, if you can
wait, and look at it from there, I've some
thing to speak to you about"
''Ive got to 90 up to Lintons. His daugh-
ter is just about going If it will do as well
I'll stop as come back"
''Oh, certainly poor Mrs. Linton! How
sad it is-she is the fourth child, and now she
must go.'
Yes, it's very sad," said the doctor, and
touched old President.
Then aunt Attic bustled into the room,
where her niece was getting ready for break
fast.
81 thought heard you talking with some
body" said the girl, laughingly
"Yes Lurly, an old friend. How do you
feel this morning."
LAS miserable as ever" sighed the young
creature, the white lids dropping over the
great blue eyes.
Aunt Attic went down stairs perplexcd
L ne doctor was at the door.
cali over" he said in quiet, soltened
tone; ''the child has gone home"
'Poor mother" sighed aunt Attic, her eyes
full of tears
'And what did you want of ?"
"fo talk about my brothers child"
"Ah, the young lady," and there was just
the suspicion of a flush in the doctors cheek
He was thirty and unmarried.
''She worries me-" said aunt Attic, her
voice full Of genuine distress. ''She mopes
is unhappy l believe, and has no appetite" :"
''Oh, something we shouldn't meddle
with laughed the doctor, a little nervouslv.
Nonsense; | know what you mean-but
1t isn't that-no indeed. I am afraid it's dis
ease, and still she won't have doctor You
don't know how it distresses me to have her
sleep so heavily in the morning, looking like
a corpse, almost. It's really sad, and She so
young. 1t appears to me that she don't take
an interest in anything"
!. "Wel, what do You propose to do 80
II propose that you shall see her of course.
but 1t must be done out OF the regular rout-
inc way. You must call this evening like
any ordinary visitor I'm really afraid if
don't do something, she'll die on my hands
| love her too well to see her fade away.
dear little Lurly" and her voice lin
gered on her name tenderly. 81 don't
tihC any vi tHo Iauliy us L 90 nCr.
Belle is naughty, Minnie butterfly, but
Lury was always a tender, loving thing
She's more of a violet than rose. VIII you
come ?"
The doctor was a handsome man and ad-
mlred beauty. He had seen Lurline but
once-then it appeared to him that her face
was that of an angel.
cot course I'll come" he said rising-"I
should like to study this rare case A Young
lady OF wealth and fashion fitting to the
country after round of dissipation, and get
ting up strength for another season.
"Now, stop, doctor, don't be sarcastic. If
you saw her and knew her as well as do
you would feel us much interested in her
welfare
POSSIBLY more so," thought the doctor to
himself, and took up his hat, conscious that
his sarcasm had partly vailed other feelings
Evening came, and aunt Attic had wiled
her beautiful niece into the parlor In the
sweet face of the oir| ono could raod mint