Connecticut western news., 1879-11-12

l did not get good look st her unti the next morning, when she burst inte my room. Then I saw blonde, tall fair and gloriously beautiful, dressed il an eccentric way that my experience did not recognize as fast"
 "Good morning." che said, abrup fly "How do you like it2''
 "Like what ?" was my astonishei inquiry.
 "Why, this slow, stupid place. Oh I forgot, you are in mourning, 50 YOU can bear it. I suppose I am iI mourning, too, or ought to be, but won't wear black. Whats the use pe7er saw papa for eleven years. Went 'f off, you know, to Russia, and left me al boarding-school, and there died anc bequeathed mo to aunt and Gerald I've plenty of money, somewhere, they say, and next year, being of age, I mean to use it, and be gay. Till then I'va e4oi to vegetate heres Oh, mercy, I did hope when I heard there was 8 young lady coming there would be some life, but you look as slow as the rest.'
 "I have just lost my mother" said.
 "Dear me have you? That is bad. Mine died when was ushered into this world, so I can't be expected to feel much about it, being probably more concerned about 'here we go up, up, little Jack Horner,' and literature of that description for some time after ward. By the way, what do you think of Gerald? He's to be ny husband, you know"
 "No, had not heard"
 Bless you, yes and if he don't die on account of it, it's mercy. The old folks arranged it all. Papa wrote to auntie, and I'm to stay here till I am of age, and then marry Sir Prim. If he were not so awfully solemn I might en, dure it, but the one ruling desire of my life is to see him turn somersault. vault over chair, or do something else equally absurd"
 "I am afraid you will never be gratifed."
 "No, l suppose not, especially since you are here to keep him in oountenance. Perhaps I'll marry him, perhaps I shan't. Is the blue thing becoming ?" she said, abruptly, walking to the glass to see the jaunty little jacket indicated. "I like red, but I can't wear even pink without looking like 8 Dutch miJkmaid. You could, now, with all that splendid black hair. Where on earth did you get your complexion, with black hair and eyes? You're as fair as I am, though you have no color. But what little thing you are. I could carry you in my arms like haby.''
 "I was always small," said, scarcely knowing how to answer her.
 We'll, I didn't suppose you had grown smaller at your age. Heigh-ho Shall we always stegnate this way ?" and she sat down and began to nurse her own foot.
 l locked at her in perfect wonder. In my quiet life, in our own little town, I had never met with a specimen of the fast young lady, and this beautiful, vehement creature puzzled me amazingly. All her hair was worn in little crop of short curls, wonder fully becoming; her fair complexion was tinged with glowing color, and her tall figure was perfect in all it's propor- tions the little hands nursing the pretty foot were small, and yet full of nervous activity.
 You'll read to auntie now, won't you9" she said, "and I can practice more. The only comfort I have is in making that piano ring"
 "I will read to her," said.
 "Well, go, then-it's her hour. I say" and then she hesitated. Kiss me I am not half such heathen as 1 look, and your face is as pure and per- feet as Mad onna's. You must not hate me. I am not bali so bad any where else, but I am half stifed in this horribly dull place."
 kissed her at once.
 "You can come here," I said, "and talk, if it does you any good. suppose it is rather sad for young girl full of life"
 "Anybody would think you were eighty at the leest," was the reply; and then she darted off, and in few mo- ments the great house resounded with music. I never heard such voice. even in concert-room. A pure, clear so- prano, yet with thes deeper notes mar veloualy perfect. She played brilliantly and sang exquisitely.
 How can I describe the life that opened for me9 All the morning spent with Mrs. Hall, reading and having, by her taste and desire, open to me the real treasures of literature, complete course of the best authors. We read history, poetry fiction ; we wandered over the old authors; we dipped into newer works we thoroughly enjoyed the hours. What was really keen pleasure for her, was 8 never ending delight for me. The afternoons were de- voted to walking, reading, or driving.
 Martha, or Mattie, as che preferred to be called, rode splendidly, and l at- tended riding-school, and soon became sufficiently accustomed to the exercise to join her and Gerald in their long rides. Oar evenings were spent in music, or else quietly in Mrs. Halls room, for Hattie soon formed circle of friends, and plunged into the vortex of New York society. A relation of her mother Mrs. Marsfield-one of the votaries of