The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1874-02-13
MR.. BONSALL,S MATCHMAKING.

My uncle Alexander McFarlane was
waiting breakfast, an event very I'M
common with him, for Aunt Nancy was
the soul of punctuality. Nevertheless
she was little late this morning. Eight
o'clock was the breakfast hour, and it
was now fully ten minutes past.
Aunt Nancy was not my Uncle Nc
Farlane's wife. He was widower of
some fifteen years standing. Fifteen
years before his wife left him delicate
little boy for keepsake, and had gone
away, whispering with her last breath
that she was very happy. Her mother
and sister, who had come to nurse her,
remained after her death, according to
Uncle McFarlane's particular request.
He would be so glad, he said, if it were
not exacting too much of sacrifice, to
have Mrs. Howard and Nancy stay with
him, to keep up his house, and attend
to his little boy. So Mrs. Howard, who
was widow with very Strengthened
income, rented her little house in the
New England village where she had al
ways lived, and came to preside over
Mr.. McFarlane's spacious mansion and
liberal housekeeping in Greenwich
street, New York-my Uncle McFar-
lane lived in Greenwich street, fact
which marks the date of my story with
sufficient exactness.
Mrs. Howard had been dead three
months, and still Aunt Nancy presided
over uncle McFarlanes household.
Neither of them had ever thought of a
change as either necessary or desirable.
Nancy had been fair, prim, somewhat
quiet girl, when she came to live in
Greenwich street. She was still fair,
somewhat prim woman of thirty-fve,
with pretty, soft brown hair, violet. blue
eyes, and a pure, soft, somewhat change
full complexion. She was not in the
least like modern young lady's heroine.
She had no particular aspiration beyond
the limited and old-fashioned one of
doing her duty in that state of life to
which it had pleased God to call her.
She did not consider herself a martyr to
uncongenial circumstances, because she
made Uncle McFarlane's shirts and
mended his stockings, and even the fact
of going down into the kitchen to do up
his immaculate ruffles, when old Mrs.
Browns hands were too lame, and the
chambermaid's too unskillful to be
trusted with them, did not awaken in
her mind any desire to rush out into
the world in search of career. No
such fancy had ever entered Nancy
Towards head. She was absolutely
" contented with her condition" will
ing to go on making Uncle McFarlane's
shirts, keeping his house, spelling his
child, and making it pleasant for
him." as she simply said. Her great
pleasures consisted in doing muslin en-
broidery, visiting the poor, going to
church, and reading the English classics,
with now and then anovel. If she hadany
trials she kept them to herself, confd-
ing them to no spiritual director, or
female friend. Such was Marcy How
ard at five-and- thirty.
My Uncle McFarlane was a fine gen.
tleman in the true sense of the phrase.
He was nimpeachable in integrity, I'M
spotted in morals, in manners absolutely
perfect-a little set in his way, and
possibly somewhat particular in eating
and drinking. He was also given to
amusing himself in quiet way with the
peculiarities of those about him. But
he never willingly hurt or neglected any
one, and he had certain genial gra-
ciousness of manner, which made oil
his employees, from Mr.. Saunders, his
confidential clerk, down to black Sam,
the carman, and Davy, the errand boy,
feel the better when he spoke to them.
Miss Nancy is a little late this morn
ing" observed Uncle McFarlane, as
Brown, his man, brought him the paper.
Yes, sir. She was out till after
twelve last night, vt Sans, sir ~
Indeed How was that ?"
Well, you see, sir, Sans girl was
took with a quick consumption last
spring, and his wife amt very rugged
either. Miss Nancy, she's been there
good deal, and when Susy was struck
with death last evening, she sends for
her. So Miss Nancy she went and
stayed till it was all over. 1t was a