Ashtabula weekly telegraph. (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1880-1886, 1880-12-10
As,AUNT ELLICE TOLD 1T.
CHAPTER L.

CHATTER I. Lr
AND so you are teasing for the story
of that night-only because you heard
me refer to it, yesterday, when / was
chatting with your mother, as the only
adventure which ever befel me in all my
five-and fifty yearsP And you take It
for granted, you foolish young
people, because called it an
adventure that it must needs be as
"thrilling" as the stories you waste
your time in following so breathlessly
through your modern novels, and be-
hind the footlightsP You will be disap-
pointed then; | give you fair warning
1t was all over in a short half hour,
and, moreover, wasn't in the least the
heroine of it; only " assisted - at it, as
the droll French phrase goes, which was
perplexing you In your translation yes
terday, Dorothy. And, moreover-but
you want the story, you say, and not ten
minutes Of prefaceP The impertinence
of your generation spoke in thatl Well,
you must have the story, then, sup
q pose. Put fresh log on the fire, Tom (;
don't want you poking at it, present
ly, as you'd be certain to do, in the
midst of the only "thrill" my small
narrative can boast. Tell the maid not
to bring the lamps for half an hour;
story-tellers are owlish, you know, in
their love for the dark.
1t happened to me the winter was
eighteen years old. had been spend
ing the Christmas holidays with Uncle
Philip and Aunt Hester Haywood, up in
Ayr; and as always happened when 1
went to them, my visit of fortnight had
heightened out into months; and Febru-
ry found me still with them. l never
was as happy elsewhere as at Ayr. At
home, as you know, had quite q patri-
archal tribe Of brothers and sisters, to
share with me papa's affection, and the
possibilities of our very limited income /;
but at Ayr 1 reigned supreme; and /
am sure that no child of their own could
have held a warmer place than l, in
Uncle Philip and Aunt Hester's hearts.
Their marriage had been childless; and
1t was natural that the only child Of Un-
Gle Philips favorite sister should be so
very dear to them. They were clannish
folks, always, the Heywoods; and they
never made any very friendly advances
to the second Mrs. Ainsworth--good
housewifely soul that she was nor to
any of her big brood of children. 1t was
usually rather pointedly to Miss Ellice
Ainsworth that letters of invitation came
addressed.
l had never been happier at Ayr, than
that winter l was eighteen years old
Aunt Hester gave me first, that year, q
responsible share in the entertaining OF
the guests of whom her hospitable house
was rarely empty; and this was q pride
no less than pleasure to me, for she
had strict old-fashioned ideas Of the
place Of young girls in social
life, had Aunt Hester. I was very
happy in the society of the clever young
people who found, in Madam HeyWOod's
home, a congenial atmosphere. And
among the guests was the heroine of my
little adventure; to which l am coming,
eventually, Tom, in spite of your i'm
patient doubts TO the contrary ShI
was the daughter of one of Uncle Philip
college chums, Miss Eleanor Forester
She must have been about twenty-foul
years old then. l believe 1 worshipeC
her with hero-worship that would hav'
satisfied the heart of Thomas Carlyle
himself! 1t was not so much that sht
was beautiful (though looking bacl
through the years, 4 still think her face
in certain moods, the most beautiful
face ever saw, as that she was at enct
so frank and so gracious, so genuine
and so sweet. She had not The some
what rough self-assertion which so oftel
belongs to women of her power ant
courage; she had not the finesse, tn
subtle, false "policy" which so oftel
belongs to women of her infinite tao
and sweetness. She was bit of ID
Vernon in her way, too; think it wa
her superb horsemanship that so en-
deared her to Uncle Philips heart, a
first. Her physical strength and endur
ance were a proverb among us she ha'
proved them equal, more than once, il
unobtrusive ways to those of many
Young man of our society; not alway
to the young mans unmixed satisfac
ton. nov iff~rr esrH a.s.
/ remember, as II it were yesterday
one keen, clear January afternoon
when, returning from a skating froli
on the river, we found Dick Francis an
Alec Stuart standing before . targei
which they had Just set up in the dl
grove for a little pistol-practice. Ther
are certain moments-and these are
no means the most vital moments {
ones life-which photograph themselyt
ON the memory, without ones KNOWN
why OF howl bat there they remain
vivid and fresh forever. And so thi
minute photographed itself with me.
shut my eyes and again 1 see the fl
wood, with powdering of last night
snow, btill white on the sturdy gree
branches, and fufiing down, now an
then, in a diamond dust, as the shar
wind stirred and stilled; patches
snow, too, on the brown carpet undt
foot, which even into the January CHI
sent forth a faint odor, like a memol
of vanished summer moons; the coll
blue sky, with few light clouds, TO-
from the near sunset, sailing akiross
above the swaying fir-tops; Che fiy
flashing icily at the foot of the law
slope; the late, keen light falling slan
ing upon the merry group under u
gray old trees. ] can see Eleanor Fo
rester, in the short, rough suit Of Il
dark blue she loved to wear, with 81
red of an abounding and joyous heal
in her delicate face, and her bright ha
all tossed and ruffied in the wind. 81
had been examining, rather critical