Litchfield enquirer., 1874-03-26

Aso AAuAGh1uuCS PdSS Of iuc WH1o. 1uelI son, their first born, Johns mother had told me, had grown to manhood with somehow an unsanctifed ambition in his heart that led him perforce outside the qulet preclnts Of his home, and, all un- prepared for the strange. unthought-oi allurements to evil, he fell, first to un- seemly dissipation, then to death. Theil lovely daughter was all that was left to them, guarded as the apple of ones eye, cherished thing; But she, through what opportunity they could hardly tell, had given her heart to one of the worlds peo- pie, promising to follow wheresoever he might lead. And she went forth from out who had given her being.
 And this girl was her daughter. How it happened that she came, do not know but she was here, and whatever had been her mothers guilt in disobedience, and her own exposure to the worlds evil, could not help feeling, as we all sat at the table, that she was pure from contamina- tlon. Like-a snowdrop she seemed, nour- ished warmly for while. encouraged to the budding point; and blossoming. found herself with head above the snow. 'tis true, but snoW around and every where. was sorry for her. Indeed, at that Quaker board, where all should have been peace of body and soul, twice tran quillized, my heart ached so sorely two separate ways that it came nigh to burst ing. I was sorry for those Quakers. un- der all my awe of them. What might moi have been the bitterness that forced them to the sharp, crisp state wherein l found them? Hearts frozen over, not to stolid. ity, as though the frost had caught them at indifferent calm; but icicled, as though the bubbling up had been met too sud denly with chill, and there congealed. How thick this ice was, one could tell they apparently took but tittle interest in Susan-Susie would dare call her else where-but they hated her father, and perhaps her, for his sake.
 The afternoon found us ladies lone in the parlor. Dame Hannah and Susan with their knitting; Mrs Harrington and myself with some trifing work. We talked of everything; ta least Madame did, and l listened. She drew thoughts to the sur face that else would never have come, l am sure, and awakened Susie to an inte- rest in the things around her till her eye kindled to something above it's own mute appeal. She was an orphan, heard her tell Mrs. Harrington, and left without means of support; but what other inher- itance had been deprived her, I found that of mind, and manners, and education had not been denled.
 As the air grew cooler, we all went out again, and while passing through the hall to follow our hostess, I saw Mrs. Harring- ton stop suddenly and take Susie's hand. There was a ring on the taper finger, rath- CT curiously chased, noticed; but some fascination seemed to hold Madame's eye But she made some trifing remark as to it's peculiar design. not appearing to see the little quiver and flush that shot over Susie's frame, or at all to answer the hun- gry look in her eyes.
 The day was over, and we started home ward just as the full moon lifted itself up from the distant sea. We talked a little at intervals during the first few miles. and then grew silent-weary, maybe, or busy with our own thoughts. It was a glorious night, provocative of sentiment, with the sweet air, and the yellow moon light lying soft over meadow and hilIock I glanced behind me- Madame was close Tn her husbands arms, her fresh check pressed against his gray beard. I imme- dlately obeyed an imaginary command to ''right about face," and involuntarily moved little nearer to John.
 l ventured tender remark or two: but my lord, leaning forward, with his elbows on his knees, and the reins hanging list lessly, ,vouchsafed only husbandly grunt. But then we had been married decade, while his father was only lover yet. l could not but think of Johns mother, poor woman been in heaven these six years, and most likely, i'll these moments of earthly bliss, forgotten I knew that Johns heart was mine now, both center and circumference; but what if, some time in the future, with all th1s scent of summer and halo of moonbeams, he should be riding over this same road with another than myself clasped to his side If thought that woman now existed on this footstool, I'd strangle her
 I remembered myself just soon enough to smother the jealous, indignant sob, that would come, into a respectable sigh; and then John, reaching forward his hand, laid 1t on mine. Dear, faithful soul I'll try to live hundred years, just for his sake. Pretty soon came in silvery tones from the back seat:
 "Would you two people be willing that
 
 of travelling, Ss we thought ?'
 ''Most gladly We both replied, and we meant it, for father was very genlal, agreeable man, and his wife was getting to be a study.
 ''To bring us to Quakerdom ?' asked, after little
 ''Or Quakerdom to us" she replied.
 There was romqnce somewhere. l could feel it. as the sculptor feels that within the rude marble there dwells a form divine. Would Madame prove the to chip the stones away?
 could not take time to record all the trifiing circumstances that occurred in the weeks that followed. Small clippings they were, though not altogether useless. Or of the frequent comings and goings, and the long talks between Madame and David, on subjects toward which no other than she dared glance
 We were not so far from the gay world but we could hear occasionally from it. and some of Madame's letters overfiowed with brilliant descriptions. But one night after the mail arrived, she looked 8 little troubled, and read and re=read the epistle she held.
 "Are you disturbed, Lucille ?'' inquired father, anxiouslY.
 ''Yes, little, I believe Perhaps had done my duty better in joining Frank. The summer is the only season he spares to himself, and he seems quite grieyed not to have seen me-"
 ''It is not too late now. If you desire
 "I know. But I confess that I do not wish to leove just yet. feel that I can- not, and I have a longing that Frank shonld come here, without knowing why"
 .'Invite him to join you, then,'' said John.
 But there seems to ha no hotel," she replied.
 With CUE compliments, mean. We would be glad to entertain him for your sake, added my John. "Has he fam fly?
 ''Oh, no he is single man as yet.''
 And so it transpired that in less than week the elegant Franklin St. John was among us. My John just took to him heart and soul. They went fishing together, and horseback riding all over the known world, it seemed to me; and talked themselves hoarse in re- 1OlcInp that thez. wnra so well oorood 0n