Litchfield enquirer., 1870-04-28
Mlisfellanp.
MY ELDERLY LOVER.

MY ELDERLY LOVER
 BY FRANK LEE BENEDICT.
 We went to look at the house. The house suited us, and there not being any tiresome masculine will to keep us in a state of doubt, by suggestions of leaky roofs, or smoky chimneys, or any other pretext for shilly -shallying, we took the house that very morning for five mont hs and before morning were established there. in with our belongings, namely, three trunks, box of books, an ancient brown thrush, and old Hannah, who had former. ly been my nurse, and was now our house. keeper and autocrat generally.
 It was little village nestled in the shad. ow of the Cattskills. When the sun went down, we were sitting in our parlor, over @ quiet cup of tea; and Tim, the bird. sing Ing in the window as loudly as if he wish. ed to prove to the hosts of robbins ;n the garden how little their melodies were worth compared to those of thrush that had been properly educated among hand organs and humans.
 Aunt Marjorie was the dearest old maid relative that ever anybody owned. Natu. rally. to the wisdom of not quite eighteen years, like mine, she seemed very ancient: but have since decided, that thirty.eight was not exactly the age of Methuseleh, though 1t appeared 80 then. She was a pretty woman, too. only rather pale; and her brown eyes had an absent, cold look, as eyes do that have never been lighted up by the dreams which youth ought to know. Aunt Marjorie considered herself an elder fy woman, and was wiling so to do, though she looked great deal younger in her SO. ber-c -colored gowns, than many an old trump going about with bare elbows, like new sort of writing implement, and displaying as many bones in their necks as a whole family of skeletons ought to possess.
 There was an odd thing about aunt Mar jorie-she had never been in love. I might not have believed another woman. who told me such thing of herself: but aunt Marjorie's word was to be taken with out salt l used to pity her exceedingly for having missed that experience. I had been in love half dozen times, at least. and liked 1t very much; and always felt that she had been outrageousIy cheated by the old jade, Destiny. But Marjorie nev- CT pltled herself, and seemed very we'll sat. Isfied to take lite as it came. To be sure. she had never had much time, until lately. to wonder and lament, for from the day she was sixteen, she had always been living for somebody else, as hard as she could live. She had had an invalid mother, and a brother with broken back, and as soon as they died, more distressed relatives came along, and after the others were comforta- bly, under the sod, she had me to take care ot, my parents having got rid of the re. sponslolllty, by dying. too. A weary hand. tul Hannah says was-as far back as my m moiy serves, l am obliged to confess that she tells the truth.
 So now was grown up. I was past seventeen, and We still lived together: but aunt Marjorie had been cheated out of her season for ioye-dreams and nonsense. Each time was newly in loye-how often that had been within the. last two years, will not try to count, l pitied her more and more, and was excessively patronizing, and told long stories for her edification; and she was always the most charming conf. dant in the world.
 But don't seem to get 10 the point. I wanted to tell you of myself, and am all the while gosslpping about the love passa. ges that my aunt dld not have. I'll try it again.
 My name is Emily Vane, but there is nothing of the weather-cock about me. I change my mind frequently, but always have good reason for it. Aunt Marjorie s name WAS Vane, too, as was right and prop CT, since sue was my fathers sister. ussd to wonder what she thought about, as she never had any love affairs; and how could novels and poetry interest her, since she could not comprehend their mysteries? |? And now she Eever would; Fate had cheat ed her; she was thirty-eight years old. Oh! dreadful age! There was nothing for her to do but stand aside and see me live my romance out I was very magnanimous: I told her all about my loves, my plans. and the novel life meant to experience-and she was always interested. Sometimes. in thinking over our conversations. I would be astonished to discover that she had guided me by her judgment, for all she knew nothing about such things, and Twas so wonderfully wise. .~s-,s- '
 But here l go again, wanderinp ike weak minded wind; and all I meant fn fell about was nay life that summer, beQinning at the day We settled down in Glover Cot tage, as contentedly as if We had been the little pigs in the old story. Tam sorry. for the sake of my comparison, that pias were the animals spoken of; but let that gol
 After tea, aunt Marjorie went up to her room to put her things in order, but | felt too indo.ent for any such exertion. so I slipped out into the garden, and wandered through the orchard at the back of the house, and was delighted with everything l saw. Finally, sat down under ti,e an. ple-trees, and looked at the beautiful land, scape spread out below: the narrow valley shut in by the towering hills; a lovely riv.