Western sentinel. [volume] (Winston [i.e. Winston-Salem], N.C.) 1856-1886, 1877-11-08
Sister, Margaret.

Nothing is more morifying to a
person, especially if that individu-
al ia q maiden lady of thirty five,
than the consciousness that others
begin to consider her too old for
the society Of young people.r
1t is "laying on thesshelf that
is by 40 means agreeable at least
such was my feeling as I glanced
at the invitations to little moon
light excursion on the lake, which
were handed in by Thomas, while
we were seated at our cosy break
fast-table, one lovely morning in
June. S39na sur NT
The note was directed to Miss
Edith and Miss Bertha Norton.
not addressed, as previous envel-
opes had been, to the Misses Nor
ton, which would, of course, include
Margaret Norton. .Spinster.
The last words | pronounced al
most audlly, with a bitter smile,
which attracted the attention OF
my pet Berthe, who said, tenderly.
"Sister Margaret, d7es your bead
ache this morning p
How my heart yearned over the
favorite sister of mine the very
image of our lost father !!
We we're now laying alongside
the sable robes, worn for three
years in token of our loss J, but it
seemed to me that I should al
ways wear the calm, sober tints of
second mourning" and in my in
most soul the memas y-of that idol
lied parent would ever be en-.
shrined.
My own mother L cannot re-
member she dropped and faded
while / was but an infant ; and my
stepmother, kind and indulgent as
she ever was to me, was not one to
call forth the ardent affection
which but few had power to- awak.
en- in my heart. e.
Gentle, dignifed. and reserved,
she had bequeathed these same
characteristics to her eldest child,
me -0alFeQ EulLD.
But Bertha was like our father,
the same buoyant spirit, strong
will END ;impulsiye affection the
same dark, curly hair, and eyes OF
laughing hazel.
/ thought of all this as | watched
her on that June morning, aud /
recalled how / had been second
time orphaned, when her mother
was taken from US fifteen years
ago. p G "a
Since that time, when Bertha
was but four years old, she haG
been to me as much daughter as
sister.
Edith, who was five years her
senior, had always been SO self
reliant and womanly that / could
never regard d5hef as needi6g that
loving warchfulness that our youn-
ger sister seemed to require and
the relation between us could nev.
er be so tender and affectionate..
Aud | reflected thus long after
we had left the breakfast-room, and
were seated in our little morning
parlor, l reasoned with myself that
it was but natural that I shoald be
omitted in the plans for enjoyment
formed by the young people of
The mothers were not invited
with the daughters.
Why should I expect to go with
Bertie, my sister-chiid 1ttt"
These reflections made me- more
cain .and content, and I could bid
my sisters smiling ,adieu when
they left me early In the morning.
Berthe came back to give me Q
second kies and whispered
Il wish you were going, too, old
darling 7"
""Old!" | repeated to myself
eyes, that'is The v9rds1 1n y
And that night l looked more
attentively than was my wont in
my nairror, and tried. to realize that
| deserved the epitset.'e ~'r'
But I saw no threads of silver in
my dark, heavy braid, and there
were but few lines OF care on my
fair, broad forehead.
Anyhow. my heart felt young, and
with a sigh I tried to realize that
l must accept the position in which
Of necessity was placed.
The Dext morning my sisters
were eager in their recital of the
charming walk aud delightful sail
by moonlight.
There had been such O pleasant
company.
.tOh, Margaret!'' said Bertie,
"do you know, we saw an old friend
Of yours ?-and he is coming to
call on you to-day"
San old friend of minea""1
queried, incredulously.
And Edith replied
eyes Clayton; he is visit
ing at the Liverfnercs, and has but
Just returned from q long foreign
tour.
<uA keL ~, n