Litchfield enquirer., 1875-12-30

she used to look. She is very sweet to me, but in some way she IS changed. or else I look with older eyes. do not quite make out
 -Daar, darling papa. T have you with nc almays in thought. Don't mss me too much At night. I never forget our good night kiss. Philip has grown older, but only enough so. He has fine. thought fuI face yOu would be proud of him, to see how gentle and true he is in all rela- tions, how modest in his fame. It makes me happy f0 see how good he is, how thdrs Oughly noble. 4
 "The children are charming. Allie, the eldest. is our golden-haired Alice over again. Milly-they named her Camilla, for me-has . sweet face, but, I think, will be no prettier than her namesake Dear Johnny is chubby, and little commoil- place. but a darling. too. But the babyl He has his fathers name, and has look of Philip already. He is new world to me He loves me, and comes to me even from his mother. Alice is perfectly we'll, again, so see more of the beautiful chill dren. Philip, when he is at home, slips away fr0m the guests when he can, to play with them, and talk to me. He has . most generous mind, not narrowed by his art but lifted and enlarged by it SO that he is more sensitive to all teaching of all art, and more susceptible to the best inspirations. I have alsays felt taat art should have this power.
 To-day, when we had been talking, af- ter little silence. Philip turned to me and said that helped him very much. He did not say how or why, but knew it was good help. for Philip could take no other. He was much moved. I looked at him to let him see how glad was, and when went out with little Philip in my arms. his words went with me like bless ing.
 ''This afternoon, Philip took me around O labyrinth of streets, and showed me the 'tapestried chamber Alice used to write about and, afterwards. to tho room of an obscure artist, who will one day be famous Philip thinks. The artist was a short, sarly -maRnered little man, with broad shoulders and large, warm, brilliant eye. which he fixed on me for q moment and then said yes tO Philip as we passed. ''Hs means that he agrees with me, that you are like his Madonna Philip explain. cd, and led me to painting of the .4Holy Mother and Child" It is not like the Ra- phAel, it is not like any Madonna I have seen. The child is radiant. He has not made the Mother beautiful Aith the beau ty of fauitless features, but he has made her high, loving soul, Q strong, grace bearing presence. cannot describe how. without regular beauty. he has yet made her marvelously. serenely beautiful and there is an expression of-I can only call 1t sweet passionateness, in her repose, something making her human and all wo- manly, in her divinity. could not see that vas like her, but Philip says it is not in her featuaes but in her look, and One's look is just what one never catches of one's-self. If have such look-I am glad. I shall never forget standing with Philip before this grand face.
 ''I vent again alone to look at this Ma donna. and tried to buy it; the artist first lat me name prices. and then told me it vas sold. He was curt and provoking. I felt my old temper rising!
 'I have taken the room where Alice and Philip used to live it is m a good duar- ter. They tried to dissuade me when I told them, but Philip, seeing my mind was fixed. desisted. and they were very kind. wanted place of my own, where can think. and plan and prepare my life. 1t is good for me, and does not take them from me too much.
 have taken little maid. She is the true Italian, simple, warm. m.hearted all pas saon and variableness. I found her on my way from chapel-when you come I will tell you all about 1t. She was raging in Q fit of wild jealousy, plotting the death of young rival. She was very pretty, but her passion and despair were terrible, and SO fuIl of the pain of love, my heart ached for her. To be jealous, when one loves. ig so natural, and all that is natural may be so noble Lit is only needful that the heart understand itself. I took her home t0 my new room. I was glad to have this quiet haven for Ter. I let her see how perfectly could understand her, and she melted, ,and was like little child; !; and. already. 1t is pathetic and beautiful to see how quickly she is learning the better ways of love. She has sent to her rival some of the prettiest things she had, there was greatness in this simple ac- ton.
 'sYou ask me so closely about Alice. but I cannot speak freely here, for my own mind is not clear. I can teii you that she is much admired and as beautiful as ever. and that she is gentle, sincere and very lOvable. Their life together is very lovely for Alice, you know,is always amiable, and Philip considers her first in ali things, and satisfies her perfectly. But it is certain that Philip is not satisfied. There is a wOrldliness,-I hate to use so harsh a word, yet am afraid it is the true one in Alice's thoughts and desires, that keep her apart from him, though not, think, m her own consciousness. cannot sec and my eyes are iealans of his worth that Philip fails toward her in anything. He does not suffer her to drift he wins her to him by every grace of tenderness and thoughtful devotion.
 ''He keeps near to her, as far as an un selfish love can do it, but there seems to be visible limits to her nature. She can. not come to him in the life he really lives: full of fervent human interest-for noth- ing which seems really to touch the vel fare of the individual, or the race, escapes him or fa ills of his sympathy--and of aui- ct. spiritual greatness that is blessed to see. Bat, withal. Alice remains good. beautiful and lovable, and Philip loves her and sees her at her best. s = ss.
 eff have missed the best life. the strong delight of womanhood, the divine joy of motherhood, have escaped the worst, the blight of lovelsss marriage, the mingled pity and repulsion that breaks and drains m secret many a noble heart. And all whom love are so wholly love. worthy Though do miss you, dearest papa. and know that you miss me, yet do not want to come Home, not unless I ought, for have found my place and my work. Rather do you and my dear aunt come over to me.
 It was from Philips letters, rather than from Margaret's, that we learned all our dear child was doing. She had been fEnUn n khWna -Lox. wrote :-s
 ''A whole volume would not do justice to Margaret OF her work. She has already three large schools or homes for poor children, in her control she visits them continually. She selects the teachers; ;and pays like princess. Yet all is done so simply. rapidly. with such fine judgment and quiet precision that her part in this work is hardly known outside of our selves. She finds out. as if by some deli cate. spiritual scent. the suffering hearts.