Connecticut western news., 1873-02-07
UNAPPRECIATED.

UNAPPRECIATED.
 I never started to pay visit with keener anticipation of pleasure, than when I accepted the invitation of my former pupil, May Gordon, to pass a few of the summer weeks at Morton Hill.
 May had been my music scholar in the days when she was May Reeves, be- fore John Gordon came "a wooing." Without being beauty, May was one of the prettiest, most winsome lassies 1t was ever my good fortune to meet. The great charm to all consisted in a bright vivacity that never degenerated into "fast" ways, but was the life of home and social gatherings. Strangers called her sunbeam, or by some equally expressive term of compliment, and she was universally beloved. Her clear, musical laugh was the very soul of joyousness.
 When John Gordon came from Morton Hill with letters of introduction for many of the leading men in Willoughby, the village matrons willingly consented to extend all the honors and Inequalities of the place. It was known that he had come to sell the old saw-mil and large tract of land adjoining to the new rail way company, and the business portion of the community said that alone would make him rich man. Stories had reached us, too, of the beauty of Mor- ton Hill, his home in an adjoining State. He was man of about thirty five, exceptionally prepossessing in per sonal appearance, with 8 manner the very perfection of graceful courtesy. Most especially was he deferential to all women, and when May Reeves won his love all Willoughby agreed she had gained pearl of price.
 I must confess I joined in the good opinion of Willoughby, for the bride groom elect had given to me, the little old maid teacher, the same courteous attentions as he had extended to the youngest and wea1thiest of my pupils, always excepting sweet May Reeves, who captured his heart from their first meeting. It was therefore with great pleasure prepared to visit Morton Hill, over which May had presided for four years when she sent for me.
 The young girl had been pupil who gave me especial love, from the fact that her dead mother and myself had been schoo1-mates and close friends from childhood. One of the last hours Mary Reeves spent on earth was passed in tearfully beseeching me to love her child, and MT. Reeves had allowed May always to be my pet pupil and dearly beloved young friend. Still there had been circumstances that prevented me from visiting her in her new home until as I have said, she had been married four years.
 The carriage from Morton Hill was waiting for me at the railway station, and pleasant drive soon brought me to the large handsome residence of my former pupil Asthe coachman opened the door, little figure in rich silk ran down the broad stone steps, and was in my arms in a moment, half laughing, half sobbing, caressing me and kissing me, with loving words ot welcome.
 Leading me to large, beautifully appointed room, May allowed me there to get my first real look into her face When I had seen it last, it had beer round and blooming with the fresI young beauty of eighteen, the eyes overfowing always with joyous pleasure in living, the sweet mouth ever hal parted in smiles, and the long fair hail falling in 8 shower of golden ringlets upon the shoulders. As I looked now could have believed the young wife had aged ten years instead of four Something was due to the matronl1 dress of thick silk, and the arrange ment of the hair in fashionable chig non, smooth and glossy, with no curl but still showing the ripping waves O. old. But the face was thin and pale the eyes full of mournful sadness, the mouth grave. My sunbeam was cer tainly in shadow, whatever the cause.
 While l was dressing, the batter o little feet across the hall, and swee treble calling Mamma" prepared m for the entrance of the sturdy littl urchin of two and half years, the hei of Morton Hall, or, as May proudly in troduced him, 'sOur boy Harvey.S
 But even the proud light of mothe love only lighted the pale face for mo ment, as, taking her boy by the hand May led the way to the dining-room where the bell had already summone us.
 Here I met my host, courteous an dignifed as ever, charming in converse tion, and full of polite inquiry as t Willoughby and it's inhabitants. An here, for the first time, I began to fin some of the cause of dear Mays pal cheeks and sad eyes.
 It may be gave my penetration to much credit, in thinking my discover ies came so early; but surely, too sure ly they were verified in the weeks ths followed.
 John Gordon surely loved the bright eyed girl he had won from her widowe father, yet slowly and certainly he wa killing her. The stately courtesy ths was charming in a friend, or even in lover, never sank Cor rose) into tn familiar tenderness that every vii craTes where she has cast all her trea ure of love.
 It.was evident to me, though May gay me no spoken confidence, that the for past years had been passed in vain a tempt to win the loving praise that ha been her daily portion in her own hom We had considered hera jewel of hous, wifely perfection when she preside over her fathers pleasant home, but . Morton Hill 1t was absolutely painful see how hard she strove to make hon an earthly Paradise. Every device feminine taste and industry beautifie the lovely house, and the table VI wonderful in the variety of careful prepared dishes.