Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1871-12-22

that one couldn't spend ten minutes in Dill
lingham without hearing of Miss Lizzie
Heron. There was no denying that her
name had become sort of perpetual echo
| in the town. Even the beauty of our pres
ent circle, Nellie Dare, really brilliant
brunette, quite perfect in her own style,
was contemptuously put down simply by
| the air with which our elders glanced at
Miss Lizzies portrait. Now, as she was
twenty when 1 was fourteen, of course
| Miss Lizzie was thousand times removed
above my sphere. A school girl and wo-
man in full dress, represent the social cat
erpillar and butterfly. However, by tom
ing down my mental picture some shades,
may perhaps sketch her fairly. AS
think of her, positively begin to doubt
| her extreme beauty. Her face was an un
usual one, and set you thinking, and.that
| is not the mission of beauty. She could
touch the Imagination and the senses klt'
not meddle with the brains. AT all events
there was nothing of the soulless, the eX-
quisito contours without much individual
| ity, about this beauty. On the contrary,
think her lasting charm lay in lovely,
rich, and symmetrical character, expressed
| through fine and magnetic personal pres
ence. She was tall and elegant in figure,
with peculiarly soft, slow, womanly grace
of movement. Her hair was very unlike the
fluffy and tangled wonders of our younger
bellies; it was soft and shining, of warm,
nutty brown, and lay in firm braids close
to a small, shapely head. Her eyes were
all her own; they had a melting, changing
| IL, eli x,,I,;
| Her complexion might indeed warrant her
reputation as a beauty; it was perfect, not
only in color but by the severest test of
texture; its frmness and purity were mar
| vellous and could not be too much admir-
ed. She had an aesthetic nature which al
ways attracts, and justly, in woman. With
| cultivation enough to combine her enthusi-
| asm with critical acumen, she had the nat
ural gift of those artistic senses that seem
| TO lie in the fingers. She could make a
bouquet of wood lilies and grasses that
would seem like a glimpse of paradise, or
whatever the flower which came in with
| her from her walk, it was arranged with so
| subtle a grace that it seemed the loveliest
| flower of all the year.
She had her season of gayety, going
| abroad with her aunt, whose husband was
| then our minister to England. She was
| greatly admired in London, and refused, so
| the aunt wrote home, with outward tri-
umph but inward dismay first, rising
| professional man, then youth with a title
| in prospect, "then-horrors of horrors =
an actual lord; man of immense estates,
| childless, though twice married, and still
comparatively youngv' After this, I'm
| afraid she was little in disgrace, but for
| tune favored her. Other relatives, less am
| bilious, perhaps more fond of Nature and
| Art than husband hunting, borrowed her
for year on the Continent. While they
| fingered in Switzerland there appeared,
| amid the moths that futtered around that
| candle, the hero that should put it undeIl
his own bushei. An American, not very
| much was known OF MIN he seemed TO be
well born and oil independent fortune his
| footing became al ihtillate one aiilosI uh-
| consciously. Al the end OF the year there
was quiet wedding at one OF the Legs-
tions, ana IN early spring the proud nus
band TOOK passage lor hlmseli ana vile TO
| New YORK.
| but they didn't come to Dillingham;,
Aunt Lucy?' SAID Gertrude.
+ 1--WE were disappointed, child,' said
Aunt Lucy "but they mad sudden sum
mons to Chicago, and went on Immediate
| ly."
| but where are they nowY' said |.
| LAYING IN limos; they nave peen there
| ever since, sald Aunt Lucy pathetlcaily.
Aunt Eloisa mad become very silentsince
her attack of paralysis, ana, when she
spoke, her voice gave ghostly rattle, ike
some old clock tat thrills through all its
metallic soul before it strikes. She began
now:
Lucy, Lucy, you are always hasty; she
never said he was farmer"
Poor Aunt Lucy! She looked meekly
crushed, but gently replied: "If he isn't
farmer, why do they live in lllinoisT'
Nobody suggested an answer, and Aunt
Lucy slowly frightened up and considered
the matter settled.
When we sat down in our room that
night, Gertrude, Nelly, Alice and l, gath
cred around the fire, in our dressing
gowns and slippers, we could think of no.
body but the wonderful Miss Lizzie Heron.
We had one ancient maid to divide between
us, who had actually brushed those chestnut
braids, and who would have done our own
in the same style. For my part, I should
be proud to follow the l.. II. in everything,
but Nellie Dare declared she wouldn't
make herself so prim, "no, not under a
night-cap."
We talked over the mysterious marriage,
and longed for a sight OF the conquerng
hero, wondering what he was like and
how he won her.
"Just think" said Nelly, 'she might
have been an English countess, and she