Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1873-04-09


"I do not love you as I have always
thought woman should love the man she
makes her husband" she said TO her suitor;
"but do respect you and like you. Your
society is pleasant to me, and il you are
content with such affection as | can give
you, that which a sister gives to her brother,
| will marry you"
" Do you love any one else or have you
ever felt the sort Of love you alude to for
any other MANI"
"Never," replied Eleanor.
"Then am satisfied. will teach you
to love me, dear Eleanor" said her wooer.
Great we're the rejoicings in the Collins
family when it was announced that Eleanor
was to marry Judge Carter. To her sis.
tcr's congratulations she only replied, 81
hope have done right"
"Right--of course you have" returned
Molly; but, alas Eleanor was not 50 sure
Of this
AS the days passed on, her feelings un.
derwcnt a curious change. Before her en-
gagemeut she enjoyed Judge Carter's soci-
ETY.; now she dreaded his coming; and she
shrank from the thought Of her approach
ing marriage almost with horror She put
aside all her lovers plaus for speedy
wedding by one objection after another
But the judge, aided by Mrs Collins, over
ruled them all.
Eleanor grew pale; she lost her appe. |
tite; she could not sleep. She limited to
her sister her desire to break the engage.
ment, but she was met with such scornful |
rebukes for having allowed the betro;hal
to be made public, and such invectives
against a se6shness that would subject /
Judge Carter TO the modification Of having !
been Tilted by her, that she dared say no
more, and Mrs. Collins pressed forward all |
the preparations for the marriage more
rapidly than ever The wedding day was
dxed and as the time sped by the girl
grew half frantic. At last she could bear
it no longer.
Judge Carter" she said, on one Of his
visits to her al think have done great
wrong. ought never to have promised
to marry you, but will not do you the
greater wrong Of keeping that promise
for do not love you, and alas, | love you
less and less, instead Of more and more
My very friendship for you seems changing
into aversion. You are too good a man to
be treated in so dishonorablc way as to
have woman marry you who does not
love you. |, at least will not be that base
woman. Can you forgive me for the NOR
tifcation of this rupture at the eleventh
hour Do not despise me for my conduct
toward you Indeed, have meant to do
right"
III believe you, Eleanor, and, so far from
despising you, honor you for your frank
ness, if, indeed it is impossible for you to
love me-"
alt is" she murmured,
"Then there is no more to be said We
withdraw from our engagement by mutual
consent, aud we will be once more as we
used to be, the best of friends"
"You are noble man why cannot |
love you - cried Eleanor "You deserve
a womans whole heart, aud you will have
it yet, am sure"
And SO Colinsville lost the excitement
, of the senator-elect's great wedding, but
! gained in its stead the excitement of the
broken engagement, and of speculations as
| to its cause. Great was the surprise of all
at the warm friendship which continued be-
t tween the severed lovers and when, year
t OF two after, Judge Carter did marry, and
{ Eleanor was actually bridesmaid at the
y wedding, where she had once been expect
=. ed to take the role Of bride, Collnsville was
D fairly struck dumb at the spectacle
D "Eleanor is so queer" was Mrs John
/ Collins oft repeated comment but even
= she now gave up all hopes Of matrimony
D for her sister-in-law.
"You must be patient with me, Molly"
| said Eleanor "I'l do what can not to
be burden upon you. Ask me anything
s but to commit sin, ike marrying without
I love-"
I "Do you mean to say that snned, be-
: cause married John without any of your
0 romantic, high-hown, story-book notions ?"
f "No, Molly; | only speak for myself
Peoples natures are different, aud what is
. right for me to do, is perhaps wrong for
another. Don't be angry with me. In
deed, mean no reflection upon you, or upon
any other person"
o And so the years went on. Eleanor
1 Collins lived her busy commonplace life in
her brothers house-a life full of petty
cares, and full of the bitterness of depend
/ ence She was by turns the nurse, the
housekeeper, the factotum, the drudge of
the family. She did more than a servants
work she never had servants wages
/ lad she been a servant indeed, Mrs John
, would have regarded her as most invalu-
able, and would have spared neither effort
J. nor money to retain her services. But
since she was "only Eleanor her sister-in-
law really thought herself very generous in
I giving her home, aud providing for her
support. The very clothing, which she SO
aboriously earned was given to her as If a
O favor was conferred upon her. Money of
her own, she had literally none. The cook
in the kitchen was infinitely her superior,
so far as her position 10 the family was con-
=. cerned She had, at least, her regular
work, fixed wages, and some time she could
\ call her own. Eleanor had neither. Un-
consciously the old maid came to be the
, bond slave of all the family, and had not
. love for the children, whom she had brought
up swcetened the service, hers would have
been lot almost too hard for endurance.
Her nieccs and nephews loved her, while
they tyrannized over her, aud to none of
the family did it occur that the debt of
!. obligation was on their side, not on that Of
r the old maid aunt.
Sometimes, half.jestiugly, the girls would
+. say, "Auntie, aren't you sorry you didn't
/ marry the senator2"
No, dear children" she would reply,
' Society did me the injustice of not allow
1 ng me to earn my own living in any way
10 which I could have done so. | could
not do the great things in this world.
/. could not teach, for did not know enough
' for that profession had not genius
enough to paint, or to model, or to write,
or to sing, or to act could have done
some useful aud humble work that would
q have enabled me to support myself only, as
I society is now arranged, should have lost
caste by the attempt. could have been a
n good milliner or dressmaker, but you
n wouldn't have liked to have your aunt en-
gagged in one Of these occupations, you
A know, though I'm sure could have been
successful in either Society has been hard
on me, but I'm glad | didn't revenge my
/ self on the conventionaities that fettered