The Carbon advocate. [volume] (Lehighton, Pa.) 1872-1924, 1876-06-17
Aunt Ethel's Secret.


4" IT'S better TO have loved and lost
than never to have loved at all" l
looked up as read the sentiment so
often quoted, for / felt sure that heard
sigh from the quiet corner where my
Aunt Ethel sat in her usual place. Ten
nyson is my favorite poet, and her
sympathy with my tastes made me
pause in my occupation of reading
aloud to Aunt Ethel the exquisite " In
Memoriam." She met my gaze with a
sad smile curving the lips that had ne
yer learned to purse up like those of
most maiden aunts Of my acquain-
tance.
Dear Aunt Ethel | far back in my
childhood remembered her as the same
quiet little figure in the same place in
my fathers cosy little back parlor. A
face pure in its expression as that of a
" Madonna" that hung on the wall
opposite the shining braids of auburn
hair folded smoothly away from her
white brow. Very calm and gentle
seemed that lovely face, and yet the
earnest, almost mournful expression of
the soft, brown eyes told Of the past
Eorrows, and seemed ever gazing back
ward upon vista of woe. How often
!, a romantic girl of fifteen, pondered
on the shadows that lay in their dark
depths
This evening 1 and my aunt were
alone. My sisters, Louise and Evelyn,
had gone out with brother Fred, and
Aunt Ethel said, in her low, even tones,
" Now, Lola, dear, we will have quiet
evening, all to ourselves" loved
those quiet evenings, for / was strange
child, whom no one could ever under
stand, or thought (with some egotlsm,
fear, } appreciate. My sisters called
me ''odd," and my mother always
sighed over my romantic IDEAS" and l
never felt really comfortable or happy
unless l was with Aunt Ethel. She
invariably {" took up" for me, as Fred
said, much to my sisters annoyance at
his slang terms.
Her embroidery lay for once idly In
her basket, and Aunt Ethel sat in are.
verie for few moments. or what was
she thinking with the far-away express
sion on her face Could the sentiment
l had Just read have anything to do
with her thoughts? After awhile went
to her side, and kneeing down before
her looked up into her eyes. She took
my hands In her OWL and said, in a sad
tone
Lola, do not read such sentiments,
they are false, though, ,as Tennyson ex-
presses them, verv beautiful"
=" Why, Aunt Ethel |" L exclaimed,
almost Indignantly 'sure you are
only teasing me. 1t is better to cherish
the memories of lost love than to 90
through life unloying and unloved."
" No, no, Lola" and her voice was
full of pain, there is nothing in life
so utterly wretehed as heart bereit of
all that had made its joy and bright
ness" looked at my aunt in amaze.
ment in all my life / had never seen
her so strangely moved. Lost, lost!"
she murmured, as if forgetting my
presence. Cecil, how bitter is any
fate, living, yet lost to me forever +,
! sat very quietly holding her hands
in my own, and essaying to comfort her
in my childish fashion by softly kissing
the taper fingers that were clasping aud
unclasping themselves, mute testimoDi-
al of her grief. How ! longed at that
moment to throw myself in her arms
and implore her to tell Inc the history
Of the past That evening was new
episode in my life. / felt intuitively
that nothing must be said upon a SUBJ
ject that had brought up memories that
Aunt Ethel lseemed stru ggling daily and
hourly TO forget.
Ny home at Longwood was q very
pleasant one every luxury and conf
fort that loving hearts could devise was
scattered plofusely around me. Aid l
often thought my sisters were perfect
paragons Of ingratitude in their eternal
regrets at being buried alive in such a
dull, stupid old place, as they termed
our beautiful home, / loved Aunt
Ethel and her quiet ways far better
than their gay company and worldly
pleasures.
No charge of any note occurred until
my seveneenth year when Aunt Eth
ell, whose health had for a long time
seemed declining, appeared rapidly
growing worse. 1t was difficult to tell
what allied her, and yet felt sure some
secret trouble was wearing out her life.
l had been, when not engaged in my
duties In the school-room, her constant
companion, and / watched with anxiety
the deep-seated melancholy that pTeyed
upon her mind. Sometimes she would
spend long hours in reVeries that were
not calculated to arouse her mind to
cheerful activity. What could it be 2
And yet the misery remained unsolvei.
1t was at last decided that / should &C
company her South, in hopes that a
of climate and scene would restore
her to health. Apart from my affec-
tionate solicitude, this was a delightful
project for had long loved the south
land. and the prospect OF revelling in
Its balmy breezes gave me enliGhted
pleasure.
Before going to Havana, where we
intended spending the winter, we
stopped for q month In New Orleans.
How love the memory Of those bright
days II was all so new, and the Paris
ian customs of the people, so different
from the old formality of my northern
home, delighted me. Each hour
brought some new pleasure. Some
times a drive down the +" Shell Road"
just outside the city, where one meets
In the dashing equipages the elite OF q
city devoted To- pleasure and RAyety