Litchfield enquirer., 1880-02-26
MY ONE CLEAN OF ROMANCE.

perhaps uninteresting. The gay hues ot morning become lost in that "light of common day" which belongs to the afternoon of life. For me it is quiet, cheeiful, happy after l noon; with the music of the voices that l love, the fragrance of the flowers 1 tend. l know, too, that for me the bracing evening breezes will rise, and the evening skies be flushed with immortal hopes. Once had a gleam of TO- nance, which grew, indeed, into steady radiance; and plain and prosaic as am now end it is mainly the ordinary episode of a
 womans lie-I think it perhaps more roman l tic than happens to most young ladies of the 1 period, and hope that they, too, may have
 gleam equally propitious
 l We were the six daughters of country
 vicar we lived four miles from the county l town, which was also the cathedral city. We
 were very happy nest of girls, save for cer-
 tain uppropitious love affairs, which, however, l came all right before the end of the third vol
 une. Our Sqnire's son was very attentive to
 my eldest sister, and our Squire, though very 1 civil to us, was not supposed to like 1t. for he
 had trotted off his son tor A long tour, and
 nobody knew for how long It nigh be. My
 second sister was engaged to my fathers cu-
 rate; helplessly, hopelessly engaged He had
 only hundred year, and was not to think
 of marrying until he had at least another hun ] dred. 1 came third The rest of my younger
 sisters have become engaged to the series of
 subsequent curates My father could not af l ford to send us to school, but we grew up
 somehow, and, like flowers, we grew up tow
 ard the sunlight The education our good
 mother gave us was something like ''Shake- 1 speare, taste, and the musical glasses" but
 our father added robuster fibre He con
 sidered that boys and girls ought, to a certain
 extent, to have the same education. Like 1 Shakespeare aforesaid, we had little Latin
 and less Greek. As far as Greek goes 1 never l got beyond the irregular. verbs-thOse rocks
 which have shipwrecked many young schol-
 ar-but Tn Latin 1 read several of the easier classics. 1 did not compose any Latin verses,
 because my father very properly said that
 young ladies should not write verses, but have
 verses written to them. l had done the first
 three books of Euclid" and in algebra had | gone as far as .quadratic equations, but not
 into them. l do not mention these humble
 attainments boastfully, but because it will be
 soon seen that they have something to do with
 my tte story.
 r My father was able to give us good home,
 but then knew it was not home that would
 last always. did not see that there was any
 necessity in the nature of things that we six
 maidens should always be living together. Of
 course, it is necessary that one or two girls
 should always be at home looking after the 1 idtneT alu luOtneT, UuI lldll d uOZeu were Tcdl- 1 ly more than sufficient. l made up my mind
 thus should like to- go out as governess.
 My father and mother did not at all like the notion. The living was fairly good one,
 and the notion had never entered their heads l but 1t had fully taken possession of mine l
 was naturally fond of teaching, and had done
 even more than my share in teaching the younger ones Moreover, l should like to see
 a bigger world than that which our village
 made'up, except that on Saturday we went to
 the neighboring city, where we did some shop | ping and marketing walked about, and went
 to hear the anthem in the cathedral. One day 1 1 saw an advertisement which seemed to suit
 me precisely. A governess was desired by a
 country gentleman in the Midlands, to teach
 three little boys Now it was that my boyish
 education came in excelently. These lads
 were intended 10 go to Rugby, and it was dis
 covered, after some little correspondence and
 comparing of notes, that I should be able to
 educate them up to the point of entering Rug
 by; even my father said so. and my father
 was man who was sternly just and particu-
 lar in these things, and would not for worlds
 let any of his hildren fly false colors Then
 this gentleman and lady wanted my photo
 graph, and was rather ashamed to send il, i for was only small brown little creature
 Those who loved me said that had loving
 eyes, just like our dog Pompey, who, am
 sure had eyes that were simply magnificent,
 only eyes do not come ont very well in photo l graphs. However, the matter was ultimately
 arranged between my father and these people.
 1 suppose few young ladies made so good a
 start first off in the geverness world as 1 did
 at nineteen, and all because 1 was able to
 teach the boys Latin and mathematics. 1 was
 to have fifty guineas year, with laundress
 and travelling expenses, so that really should Fnf hnu DO fn ntyfh nF s,lxy
 salary. In fact, the Reverend Jones, who
 was engaged to my sister Fanny, told me that l was great deal better off than he was. 1 When he had paid all his expenses he was l hardly fifty shillings to the good. If 1t had 1 been guineas instead of shllings he thought he
 might be tempted to perpetrate matrimony on
 the strength of it.
 l In order to get to my ''place," as we laugh
 ingly called it, down in the shires, it was nec-
 essary that l should go up from our cathedral
 city to London, and then go down into the country by another line. Bennington was | very long way from the railway At this time
 our railway system was still young, but even
 at the present time, though there are four or l five railways in this neighborhood, none come
 within four or five miles of Bennington. I 1 was to go down to Manningham Road Station, which was 10 miles from the market town of 1 Manningham itself. and then the village of Bennington was five miles on the other side of l Manningham. -. .se.. It was late in September afternoon when 1 came to Manningham Road Station. The
 station itself was ill little village, but it am- l bitiously preferred taking it's title from the
 market town. which was many miles of. The | arrangement was that should be met by one of the Wilmslows in their trap, which should | take me and my belongings over to Donning 1 ton. Everything was taken out, but, unfOrtn- 1 hate1y, the Wilnslows' conveyance had not 1 arrived. The porter knew them very we'll 1 and said that they were sure to be there before very long. Itwas a long way to come, and they might have business at Manningham. So after waiting rather long time left my lug l gage on the platform. where the porter assur- 1 ed me it would be quite safe, and took stroll about the village-a very little one, but presen- | ting two remarkable features Y TheL churchA yari was very much timbered, almost grove l like in character, and with an avenue of fine l branching elms. ; Moreover, the church doors | were unlocked, with every appearance of that 1 being the nornlalstate of things and the church
 was gently filled with dim suffusiou of relig- ious light. l paced that avenue, and sat quiet l ly in that church, and my eyelids being heavy l with little wholesome crying, it is just pos sible-I admit this confdentially may 1 have slumbered for few minutes in a most I
 fully recall stel the present. day At last the ] thought occurred to me that 1 might in my 1 turn be keeping the Wilmslows waiting at the l station and so somewhat hurriedly retraced l my steps. , .-
 When I got once more upon the platform 1 noticed with disnlay- that luggage had van- 1 ished. es.s e,s zfs- l ..Well. porter, said, ''what about my lug
 gage? Isuppose you have put it in the cloak l room ?'
 | ..Eh. miss, be that you P said the porter. r 'fWho'd thought of seeing you here.'' e2 l 'But where's my luggage ?" I answered. land L wonder how long shall have to wait'' l .sThe luggage. miss-why, Mir. Wihnslows got it. He are not been out of the station yard six minutes D t | .Gone and without me 7" I exclaimed,
 perfectly thunder-struck. h s Why, Miss, he came and asked after you said you had left your luggage here, but how