The Jackson standard. [volume] (Jackson C.H., Ohio) 1847-1888, 1880-01-22
[From the Cornhill Magazine.1
AN ELDERLY ROMANCE.
CHAPTER 1.

shrubbery. and OvershadOWed by some
fine trees, which has been called by
the name of Observation-Disclosures fo1
a longer time than any one in the vii
lage can recollect 1t presents to the
outside world who. peep at it over the
palings, between the openings which
have been carefully cut to afford to
its inmates pleasant glimpses of the
lower part of the green, on which the
cricket-matches are played, the aspect
of somewhat low, white house, wit
no apparent entrance, and a great
number Of chimneys Of different
heights, chimneys which | suppose
suggested to some wag the unequal
stature of family Of children, and
thus procured the house its popular
name In the map of the estate on
which Dinglefeld stands it is called
Bonport House, and this is how the
generals letters, need not say, are
addressed. But yet the common name
sticks, all the more because of the
character of the family who now in
habit that hospitable place. It is lit
orally house Of brothers and sisters.
General Stamford, the head Of the
family, is hale and ruddy old war
rior Of sixty, who has seen a great deal
of service, and who has been knocked
about, battered, and beaten from the
age Of sixteen until now; sent to every
unfavorable place where a soldier
without money or influence has to go,
and engaged in every fierce little war
in which it has been the pleasure of
England to indulge without any con-
sideration for the feelings of her fight
ing men, He has been at Bermuda;
he has been on the Gold Coast; he has
braved all the fevers and fought all
the savages within our ken; and out
living all this, has settled down with
his sisters and brother in our village,
one of the most peaceable yet the most
active of men. It is for this last rea-
son that General George las we have
all got to call him, partly because
there are other generals about, and to
say General Stamford every time you
mention man in neighborhood like
ours is fatiguing, and partly for kind
ness) has so many things on his hands.
He is one of the directors of our rail-
way; he is on several boards in town,
where he goes almost every day pune
tual as clockwork, brushed to perfec-
tion, and driven to the station by
Miss Stamford in the pony carriage,
which always takes him there, and
always meets him when he comes
back. Miss Stamford is the eldest
sister Of all. She is very like her
brother, and there never was such
tender brotherly-sisterly union as
between these two old people They
have known each other so long,
longer than any husband and wife
They have the recollections Of the
nursery quite fresh in their minds, as
if it were yesterday-when it was al
ways Ursula who found Georges books
for him, and gave him good advice,
and most Of her pocket-money, and
looked after his linen when he was at
home, and his pets when he went
away. Miss Stamford knows all the
occurrences of her brothers chequered
life better than he does himself, and
recollects everything, and knows all
his friends, even if she never saw them,
and can recall to him the exact rela-
tionship between the young man who
comes to him with an introduction,
and old Burton who was killed by his
side among the Maoris, or Percival
who died of the yellow fever at the
Barbados. She is his remembrancer,
his counsellor, half his heart, and
good part of his mind; and, indeed,
there is nobody among us who ever
thinks of the one without thinking of
the other. What she was doing with
herself all those years when George
was fighting ON the outskirts of civil
ization, or sweltering in the tropics,
none of us know, but some of US won
der now and then. Did nothing ever
happen to Miss Stamford on her own
account? has all her life been only
reflection of her brothers? But this
is what nobody can tell.
The next member of the family in
due succession is Mrs. St. Clair, who
is the second sister, and who has been
so long a widow that she has forgot
ten that this is not the normal condi-
ton of women. | don't think, for my
part, that she remembered much about
her husband, though he did exist, |
have every reason to believe. Her
married life was little episode, but
the family in all her idea Of ordinary
existence. That little sip of matri-
mony, however, has made her different
from the rest. | cannot quite tell
how. There is a tone that is more
mellow; she is little more-stout, if
| may use such a word: her outlines
are little fuller, both of mind and
body. Miss Stamford takes care of
the house and the general, but Mrs.
St. Clair takes care of the parish. She
is the rector's lay curate, and most
efficient one It is she who watches
over, not only the poor, but the dis
trict visitors, and even the curates,
whose juvenile Importance she makes
very light of, keeping down all ram
pant sarcerdotalism. When a young
man comes into parish full Of very
fine ideas of priestly state and dignity,
and fortified beside by all the talk in
the newspapers about adoring ladies
and worked slippers, it is hard for him
to find himself confronted by a lively,
middle-aged woman who has no par
ticular respect for him, and knows
all his kind, and all their little
ways. Mrs. St. Clair was of the
greatest use to us all in this particular.
She kept us from innovations. Our
excellent rector has not very strong
will, and how far he might have been
induced to go in respect to vestments,
or candles. or even Gregorians, it
would be hard to say, but for Mrs. St.