Litchfield enquirer., 1878-11-14
AUNT EUN1CE,s IDEA.

sdly. 'I don't like the idea, either, but I dare say shall manage very we'll sfe ta4e.
 spoke dolefufly, for all but the last clause of my speech was painfully. literally true There pGs nothing else to do di7,sr like the idea at all, bull had not the faintest hope that should manage very well.' Nothing 90 wild entered my brain for moment. On the contrary, I was quite sure that should cover myself with shame and everlasting disgrace; but what IS the use of bowling about anything that can not be help ed?
 The case, you see, was this: Mir. Rober, Duncan, an intimate friend of my mothers youngest brother, was on his way to visit us, and must certainly arrive in the course of a few days. That was all very well, and had not concerned me in the least until five minui tes before, when mamma had received tele- gram which announced the sudden illness of her sister in Philadelphia, and summoned hel thither imperatively.. It was impossible to re- fuse to obey the summons it was impossible to notify Mir Duncan, for he was to take us in the course of other travels, and nobody knew his precise whereabouts at the present mo- ment. Obviously, the only thing to be done was to let things take their, course. But P only eighteen, just out of school, spoiled child, with never an atom of housekeeping ex-
 
 into what quagmires should I not founder before that terrible fortnight was up?
 After all, it will not be so bad" said mann ma, encouragingly. "Mr. Duncan will be out most of the time, suppose. We are so near the city that he will probably spend all his time there. Perhaps it is good thing that I have invited Aunt Eunice, for she can matron- ize you, and Bridget will take all the care of the housekeeping off your hands. am sure you will be very kind to your Aunt Eunice, Marion. She is old and poor, you know, though of an excellent family. Her home is not very cengenial, for the nephew with whom she lives married very much beneath him, and invited the poor old lady here, thinking it would be treat t0 her"
 Yes, would be kind to Aunt Eunice and Bridget, who had lived with us ever since I could remember was host in herself but, all the same, my heart was very heavy as watched mamma drive away and thought of the burden that was laid upon me.
 The above conversation with mamma occdr- red on Thursday, the Eth of October it must have been, and on the same ev ening begins the journal which kept during my period of martyrdom.
 October 7.-Mamma left to-day, and about half an hour after she had gone Aunt Eunice Singleton arrived. 'Aunt Eunice" we have always called her, though she is only distant cousin of my fathers. Such droll little fig ure! She must have been pretty once, with that helpless pink and white prettiness which which invariably fade into neutral tints as the years go on, until the golden hair and the peachy Skin are all one uniform shade of dull whity-brown, and the soft, blue eyes are a pale, watery gray. A limp, pathetic figure in her gown of-what was her gown? As live, a brocade such as we may sigh for in vain in these degenerate days. A green and white brocade such as our grandmothers wore, ''thick enough to stand alone," as the old say ing goes Originally it, must have belonged to one of her ancestors, for, though faint at tempt at modernizing with the aid of thin, shining green silk is evident it still bears traces of it's antique cut in the skirt, which is short as well as scant, and the curious modelling of the botlicU. Anu the bonnet My first idea was that it too had belonged to her grandmoth- CT, as looked at the huge flaring brim, lined with silk of the brightest purple, but on dodg- ing behind her to get fresh view of it I saw that it was simply Tuscan shade hat, turned up behind and set upon the back of her head And this lat was trimmed with the richest and rarest of old point lace, yellow as coffee and priceless as diamonds. Round her throat and wrists she wore old point too, but not yell low old point. Oh no! Profanation! Who had had the heart to wash and starch-yes, ac- tually starch lt-until it stared and bristled and rustled with every motion of her head or hands? An old-fashioned broche shawl, which l found she 1attered herself might pass for Indian, and pair of cotton gloves, completed her extraordinary array.
 'You didn't expect to see such fine old aunty, did you, dear?" said Aunt Eunice, complacently, as she laid aside her wonderful hat with the utmost care. You see, when first got your mammals letter thought I could not possibly come, for had not thing fit to wear. But Sarah Eliza that's my nephew's wife, you know-she said, Why, aunty, there's your grandma's cedar chest that you haven't things in that that will make you as fine as fiddle So we found this old dress, and Sa- rah Eliza matched it in silk, and Miss Frisbie came in and made it all over in ne time. You wouldn't gues' it was nearly hundred years old would you, now? Then" went on Aunt Eunice, fortunately waiting for no reply, ''about my hat couldn't put one of your new tangled f1y-aways upon my old head and 1 couldn't get anything else in town. My old one wasn't fit to wear but at last Sarah Eliza hit upon this, and we found this lace, and Sa- rah Eliza said that would give it style, and it does doesn't it It does we'll enough on a hat you see, but I couldn't put such dirty stuff next to my skin, so just washed and starched enough for my neck and wrists, and think it does look very nice and neat"
 Poor old lady Such painful feeling of mingled absurdity and compassion teok pos session of me as I listened to her innocent expose of ways and means, that my heart grew too big for my breast and forced the tears from my eyes as l stopped and kissed her withered old cheek.
 The time of MT. Duncan's arrival had been very uncertain, but he arrived late this even ing after Aunt Eunice had gone to bed, and while was still writing the above entry. 1 saw him, of course, explained matters, and apologized as we'll as could, and sent Bridget to pilot him to'his room. wonder if he is hungry? never thought of it. before. but can't help it now. Besides, even if I had thought of it, Idon't know what could have done Bridget had licked every thing up and was going to bed and l should never have dared to ask her to go down again and get SUD- per at that hour; 80 perhaps it's just as well though don't like to think of his being hun gry. Aunt Eunice and he haven't met yet 1 wonder what he will think of her?
 October 8.-Oh dear! one day is over at last, but if they are all going to be like this, what shall l do? There's Aunt Eunice, in the first place. She came down to breakfast looking nice andquaint and lady-like, in her plain brown gown, with white collar and cuffs and little muslin cap. When she saw MT; Duncan she started and said,
 "l didn't know that your friend had come, my dear, or l would have. put on my brocade There's nothing like first impressions, you know, and do want to do credit to the fami- ly." =,
 If she had only known what relief it was to me to see her in her plain morning dress! am sure Mir. Duncan heard her speech, for all he looked so grave and distracted, but that was nothing to what came afterward.
 I don't know whether people would call Mir. Duncan handsome man. For my part, think him one of the handsomest ever saw, but then am not judge. He is tall, but not overpoweringly so, with brown hair and nous tache, clear pale complexion, and eyes-no, I don't think l like his eyes. They are of a clear gray, shaded and black around the edge of the iris, which gives them richness and depth. They are beautiful eyes, I suppose, but they frighten me, they are so clear and steady and penetrating; they. seem to look through you as if you were pane of glass And they look as if they could be merciless if they detected one shade of meanness or duplic-