Macon beacon. [volume] (Macon, Miss.) 1859-1995, 1872-02-17
OCTAVn HADLEIGH's STORY.

=
ana relate it are so different.
| wonder if the humble moth, safe
y sheltered beneath the protecting
greenery of some household cabbage,
ever feels thrill Of envy when the
gorgeous butterfly, with wings all
ablaze with velvety maroon and gold,
alights close by him? If so, the moth
must feel just as l felt when Cornelia
BydeXter sat in our poor little parlor
that November day, with her chains
and rings, and looped-up draperies of
cashmere, and primrose-colored kid
gloves buttoned with links of gold.
1t was rather hard for | could re-
member the old days when Cornelia
and | went TO school together, and /
wrote her compositions for her, and
looked out hard words in the French
dictionary. There is no republic like
Il school, and Cornelia was thankful
to be allowed to sit next to me then !;
and now she actually presumed to
patrOnize me; no, not exactly that,
either, for Cornelia Bydexter, not
withstanding her lack Of brains, was
an honest, warm-hearted sort of girl.
But the poor are sensitive, and al
though | was pleased to see my old
schonlmate, the pleasure was not un-
mixed with bitterness.
Yes, we WerG poor and the fact
stared me in the face wherever | ven
tured to look. That we had been rich
was no matter of consolation. The
room was filled with ill-assorted relics
Of furniture that had once been splen-
did in rosewood shine and CLEANS of
satin and brocatelle. The carpets,
now worn threadbare, were of royal
velvet and Administer, and the whole
apartmentbore vestiges of that shabby
gentility that poor pretense of new
ness and freshness, which is more
pathetic by far than the undisguised
front of poverty. / was tired of
arranging the curtains 50 that the
darned holes should fall in the inner
folds. was weary of putting glued
chairs in the least-used corners, and
setting mended china vases in the
shadowy hooks of mantle and table.
Where was the use? Did not every
body see through our miserable de-
vices? We were poverty-stricken,
and there was an end Of it.
And yet poor papa sat there in that
forlorn, second-rate little room like a
Viscount in his reception chamber.
Dear papa! ever since this paralytic
stroke he had seemed to believe in
himself to a degree | could not posi-
bly, attain to, and to imagine that the
world also put faith in him. Nor
would we have had it otherwise. And
dear mamma, who could not look
aught else than a lady in spite of
mended laces and oft-turned silks,
never told him of the daily contests
with unpaid butcher, dissatisfied
baker, and clamorously insolent can
dle-stick maker! And Jeannete and
|, just at the age when life ought
according to all we have read and
! heard-to wear its sunniest aspect,
grew up in the shadow, crying softly
to ourselves when it was bitterest to
indure in silence-for ii was part of
our domestic creed to keep all the dis
agreeables from poor papa.
YES" said papa, nodding his head
as he sat in gorgeous Turkish dress
ing gown by the window, his slipper
ed feet on an embroidered ottoman,
and one white slender finger inserted
between the pages of the book he had
been reading all the morning-"yes,
you are quite right, Miss BydeXter;
Octavia is growing very pretty"
And | could feel myself blushing
scarlet between my delight at receiv-
ing a compliment from papa and my
embarrassment at feeling all the fam
lily eyes-Miss BydeXters included
turned upon me.
"It's shame she should be shut up
here ~ said Miss BydeXter in her
soft soprano voice, "when all the
world is getting ready to enjoy itself.
Come, Octavia, what do you say to
going to New York with me this
winterW
"Wife," said papa loftily-some.
how the manner was just as natural
| to him as the air he breathed-"Why
don't we send our little girl to New
York? Miss BydeXter's kind offer
ought not to be sighted, and it really
would be great advantage, socially
speaking, to the child"
Visions of Broadway seen through
the sunshine on December day, OF
the Fifth Avenue and Central Park
Stewards and Delmonicos, Of brass
bands and lighted bathrooms, shot
dizzily across my brain for the in
slant, as hungry man dreams of un-
limited food. | felt the burn of the
kindling lights in my eyes as look
ed from papa to mamma. And then
common sense, for a moment fright
ened Off her throne, came back to
me, and | knew how impracticable,
not to say impossible, the plan was
But Jeanette uttered little raptur-
Gus cry: ,
"Oh, Octavia, wouldn't it be nice!
If we only had the moneyW -
"Yes-tn mamma answered, with
that soft moonlight sort of smile she
had at times. "But you know my
dear-n
But papa would not allow her to
finish the sentence. A deep, mahog-
any-cOlored flush mounted on his
forehead, and / saw his brows meet
darkly. u,
Tf' Octavia Wishes" he said, 81
} can very easily draw a check upon
, the bank for her expenses"
Mamma breathed quick and short
. Jeanette opened wide her honest
blue eyes. - .,
ut would be delightful !" said Miss
! Conelia BydeXter, to whom one OF
two hundred dollars was no more
than they would be to the lilies oftht
field, "who toll not, neither do they
: spin,p And poor mamma, who knew
: yery well that the hundred and fifty
; dollars at the bank were imperatively
, needed for the already overdue rent
E skillfully engineered the conversation
away from the rocks and shoals which
= pretended the shipwreck of our DO
, mestic peace.
! ayes, indeed" said Miss Bydexter
D unconsciously following mamma'
+ lead, and plunging into the grea
: "service" channel. "Ive been very
badly treated; but servants are
q thankless race. Louisa has left me
the ungrateful thing! Forty dollar
: a month was paying her, too.'
"That is a great sum to pay" sal.
2 q mamma; and 1 knew the pang will
" which she was thinking that this wa
{ exactly the sum in which we wer
indebted to DIR. MOrtimore. Not
. large amount in ITSELF to be sure, bu
!, anonCh TO make us shrink from en-