Weekly Trinity journal., 1879-06-21
OLD ELSPA.

NY Hl''tHe. uieu WHEN L WIS 81 young
that had only shadowy remembrance
of pale face and long, last clasp to her
loving heart. had been my fathers pet
and darling, and now he was dead. too,
and his will had consigned me. just like
bale of goods, to the care and guardian.
ship of his brother, n doctor, whose home
lay among the picturesque mountains of
Cumberland
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 the
south of France, where we had gone to
Winter, Uncle Ritson, who came barely
in time to lay him in his foreign grave,
carried me of at once to hi. house on the
bleak hillside, gave me kiss ms he lifted
me out of the stdffy vehicle which had
me to my aunt and cousins with "WeI,
here's Adela !" and told me to consider
myself" at home"
1t was the beginning of January, in
tensely cold. The sudden change from n
warm climate hsd sensibly affected me !;
l was chilled under nl my turs. and per-
haps more chilled by the restraining in
| fuence of my fathers will. having pom.
dered the too impulsive all through
the journey.
Certainly, was not " too impulsive :"
on my entrance to my new " homo.'
Aunt and cousins had met me on the
| threshold with warm welcome, pressed
to remove my wraps and to make me
comfortable. There was a huge fire blaz-
ing on the hearth, n tea table piled with
north country luxuries, 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, l dropped into seat,
after the first glance around. and cover
ing my face with my hands, barst into
tears.
have small. thin, quick ears. over
heard Aunt Ritson whisper 10 Bella and
Winnie. MS she drew them back
Hush It's but natural, poor brain (!
Leave ;our cousin alone, lasses !; she
will come to Eprself all the sooner"
And did come TO myself but whether
my tears had fallen frostly on their hot
hearth, or we travellers had brought II
chill with us, or my own manner did not
invite effuson, a certa in air of restraint
seemed to grow upon us and when |
was shown to the room set apart with me,
and left to myself, | flung myself upon
my bed and sobbed in passionate grief for
my dead father. declaring that l was
alone in the world, utterly alone.
And this feeling grew upon me. Look
ing back, l am conscious that it was
much my own fault that had not res
ponded with sufficient warmth and graft
tude to the relatives who had mnde room
in their threshold for one they had not
seen since she was baby, and had met
with open arms and hearts.
They had heard that | was gushing
and exuberant, creature of impulse,
and finding me reserved and languid,
concluded that /, accustomed to elegance
and luxury, could not brook the homeli-
ness and retirement Of my new life. l
was rich aud they were not. They mis-
took my morbid melancholy for pride,
and ceased to press their society or at.
tentions on me, lest l should attribute to
them mercenary motives.
see it all now, but then / was blind.
| hnd another sorrow nj my heart besides
grief for my dead parent, and | fear that
whenever my thoughts flew to that lone
ly grave among the Pyrenees, Iquestion
ed the policy which had isolated me from
the world-and prisoned my free soul
among those unrespOnsive walls of stone.
In this rhapspdy did not apostrophze
alone the four walls of the solid stone
house that, set against the noun ain side,
with II background of pine, Iarch and
mountain ash, lpuking so cold aud gray,
staring with its many lidless eyes from
its rocky perch above the struggling like
village, on the steep, ungraded roadway
in front. and the narrow strips Of garden
ground stretching like green arms on
either side.
No, held converse with the moun>
tnins. They we're to mo the barriers be-
tween love and life and happiness. but il
WAS only on their solitary nights felt
free to give the feeling utterance. Tho
thrifty household ways OF my aunt and
cousins, which kept them ever busy, were
strange to me. My dainty fingers had no
acquaintance with rolingpin or paste
board. /. was not | who kept so bright
the mirror in which saw my own beau
ty, aye, and my own happiness reflected
was supposed To be mourning, and, with
mistaken deicacy, was left to do-noth>
ing.
Had Uncle Ritson known it. or how l
spent my time he would have shaken me
up like bottle of physic, and / should
have been the better for it. But whether
on foot, or horseback, or in his ancient
gig, he was off in the morning. and was
frequently absent all day. His patients
were scattered, and his rounds extended. .
!, having no occupation for hands or
energies, feeling myself something apart
from the rest. was off and away up the
hilsides TO the lonely margin of the lake,
or into the most secluded glens, my only
companions my faithful dog. and there,
where there was only the wind 10 answer
me, poured forth Mi the pent up feeling
Of my heart and Oft my gusts OF passion