The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1879-01-23
OLD ELSPA.

L was alone in the world, or thought
Z was, which amounted to pretty much
the same in it's mental and moral effects
My mother died when I was so young
chat had onlya shadowy remembrance
of pale face and a long, last clasp to
the loving heart. Ihad been my fathers
pet and darling, and now he was dead
TOO, and his will had consigned me, just
like a bale of goods, to the care and
guardianship of his brother, doctor,
whose home lay among the picturesque
mountains of Cumberland.
L was "too impulsive," said the will,
and would throw myself and my money
away before [ knew the value of either,
if had no one to take care of me: :"
and so, when my poor father died in
Ghe South of France, where we had gone
to winter, Uncle Ritson, who came
barely in time to lay him in the foreign
grave, carried me off at once to his
house on the bleak hillside, gave me a
kiss as he lifted me out of the stufy
vehicle which had conveyed us from the
station, presented me to my aunt and
cousins with "Well, here's Adela!"
and told me to consider myself "at
home"
1t was the beginning of January, in
tensely cold. The sudden change from
a warmer climate had sensibly affected
me; [ was chilled under all my furs,
and perhaps more chilled by the re-
straining influence of my fathers will,
having pondered the "too impulsive" all
through the journey.
Certainly was not "too impulsive :"
on my entrance to my new home"
Aunt and cousins had met me ON the
threshold with warm welcome, pressed
to remove my wraps and to make me
comfortable. There was huge fire
blazing on the hearth, tea-table piled
with North Country Injuries, and all
that should have made me feel at home !;
but something was wanting, and, instead
of responding to their greetings in my
own natural fashion, I dropped into a
seat, after my first glance around, and,
covering my face with my hands, burst
into tears.
I have small. thin, quick ears. /
overheard Aunt Ritson whisper to Bella
and Winnie as she drew them back:
Hush! It's but natural, poor BARN :!
Leave your cousin alone, lasses; she
viii come TO herself all the sooner"
And [ did come to myself; but wheth-
er my tears had fallen frostily on their
hot hearth, or we travellers had brought
a chill in with us, or my own manner
did not invite effusion, a certain air of
restraint seemed to grow upon us; and
when [ was shown to the room set apart
for me, and left to myself, ] flung NY
self upon my bed and sobbed in pas
sionate grief for my dead father, declar-
ing that 1 was alone in the world, utter
ly alone. #t
And this feeling grew upon me
Looking back, I am conscious that it
was much my own fault that I had not
responded with sufficient warmth and
gratitude to the relatives who had made
goom in their household for one they
had not seen since she was a baby, and
had met with open arms and hands.
They had heard that I was gushing
and eXuberant-a creature OF impulse
and, finding me reserved and languid
concluded that I, accustomed to ele-
,EhnCS tI1O OOuIA hOU IOOh luC
LONELINESS and retirement of my new
life. | was rich, and they were not.
They mistcok my morbid melancholy
for pride, and ceased to press their So
ciety or attentions on me, lest 7 should
attribute to, them mercenary motives.
[ see it all now, but then was blind.
Il had another grief at my heart beside
sorrow for my dead parent, and I fear,
whenever my thoughts few to that
lonely grave among the Pyrenees, ]
questioned the policy which had iso-
lated me from the world = the world in
which my hero lived and moved and
prisoned my free soul among those un-
responsive walls of stone.
In this rhapsody I did not apostro
phMe alone the four walls of the solid
stone house that, set against the noun.
tain side, with a background of pine
larch and mountain ash, looked SO cold