The Emporia news. [volume] (Emporia, Kan.) 1859-1881, 1881-06-02
FAMILY PRIDE.

FAMILY PRIDE.
Jocelyn place had been grand oit
mansion in its day; and my aunts con
sidered il their duty, as descendants o
the great Jocelyn family, to uphold il
dignity, by affecting profound uncon
seriousness of the fact that il was nov
one of the most rliinous, leaky, wealth
er-stained old country houses that eve
dIsgraced the fair country of -. s.
Aunt SeraphinA picked her way through
the puddles, and accounted for her swell
ed face by referring to her visit to th'
/ Widow Browns damp cottage. AND
| Clementina wore her old brOcade, il
which she had figured forty years before
at her brothers wedding, declaring tina
she would not disgrace3he family name
by putting on thin, waShy things they
call silk Low a-days.
A few old, biear-eyed. gray-headed
| family servants crept around in the
shadows and brought as up our daily
potatoes and occasional joint in the
battered old family silver, and made the
huge old family beds, and swept care
| fully the faded carpets, and tended the
old family horse, who was generally sup
posed to be the oldest inhabitant of the
village. And amidst all this ruin and
desOiation and decay, We grew up into
wOmanhood-mY sister Gabrielle and
she fair, handsome, and holding her
golden head lOftily among the descen-
dants of shOemaker's, tailOrs and shop
keepers. who had only fine estates and
rich clothing-I, dark, pale and always
sad, being unfortunately, of practical
nature, and unable t. prefer our watery
potatoes to Giles Broadax's roast beef
merely because they were served up on
the family plate.
This and sundrJ housekeeping ten
denotes of mine were the cause of end
less dissension; and, of late, so fierce
had waxed their denunciatiOns that on
q rainy afternoon, as / sat in the re-
cessed window, looking wearily out,
my whole being rose in rebellion against
this miserably- purposeless life, degraded
as il was. by petty chickering's, and en-
Filtered by continual repinings.
Like lightning l formed the resolve
that colOred my whole after-life.
AUNT Seraphinai"
My aunt laid down her embroidery
and looked prepared 10 be shocked.
Aunt, am tired of this life"
"GrAcious gOOdnessp' calculated Aunt
Clementina- 1.-THE unhappy girl is go
ing to commit suicide"
mo, 1 am not" said indignantly.
81 mean to keep school,"
My aunt grew stiff with horror, Ga
brielle Redeemed.
81 know" continued, "all you would
urge, and, TO save trouble. l tell you, at
once, il is quite useless-I am deter
mined. DisOwn me if you like, for
one mean to rid myself fthis horrible
family incubus"
'She's mad !" calculated both of my
aunts in chorus.
and went over 10 the little old English
piano, rs if determined to hear nothing
further.
put on my bonnet and shawl, and
went in the rain 10 Mrs. Forbes, the
kindly widow who kept the hotel an the
green, and confided my Plan 10 her.
am glad there's one of you got a |
little sense" she said, approvingly. |
"Never mind their talk dear; they'll be |
glad enough to come TO on some time. |
You shall keep school here. I'll board |
you for nothing till you get started, as |
you wouldn't find it any too pleasant |
staying up at that old rOOkery after this"
So the matter was decided, and IN a |
lay or two little painted sign inform
Ell all whom it might concern that Miss |
Helen Jocelyn kept a private school |
within.
The village stared, wondered, but on |
he whole approved. They were prac-
.ical children of the nineteenth century |
who had carved out their own fortunes, |
md were ready to extending a helping !
hand to others.
So the Squire sent his children, to |
keep them out of mischief; and the |
)arSon his, to encourage me: and the |
est because the Squire and the parson |
lid and when had reduced these IN
.uly elements to order and accustomed |
myself to pass Gabrielle with cool
lOd, and my aunts without any recOg- |
liiion at all, was happier than l had |
,ver been in nay life.
made an astonishing discovery |
lowever: l was Jocelyn in heart at
er all.
I was nervous when any one stopped
% look at the little sign; and when one |
warm, drOwsy afternoon, a stranger |
llighted at the hotel, and, walking up to |
t, read and reTead it with a provoking |
grew quite irritated.
What business had he to impress it on /
his memory that Helen Jocelyn taught a |
'elect private school?
He was a handsome, resolute, but |
Kindly man, far superior to any one /
lad ever seen; but disliked him at |
,nce, and when heard him inquire for |
ny aunts, and saw him take the road for |
he old house quite hated him.
1t was almost shutdown when he re-
urned. had sent my children home |
md was sitting under the old elm that |
shaded the house, but pretended not to |
observe his approach. He came up to
me with extended hand.
"Miss Helen, am your cousin Arthur |
Jocelyn."
1 looked up at the stately head bent
.Oward me, with his broad forehead |
and clear, blue eyes. think should |
have liked him then; but / detected n |
furtive smile curling his moustached |
lip.
"Good evening, cousin" said, COOL |
IL; but did not take his hand.
"They say that blood is thicker than |
water" he answered laughingly, seat |
ing himself beside me. "You might |
only your third cousin"
al only take the hands of FRIEND"
I said haughtily.
ga delicate hint that i am not to con-
slider myself as such. But you will
find that have all the old JOcelyn OBJ
stinacy. You are brave little girl and
like you, ii you are not over civil;
and before leave, you shall tell me
that you like me, too.
/ shut my lips and closed my eyes, as
l vowed never to fulfill that prophesy,
but it was a harder task than / had
thought. He met all my selfwilled,
petulant airs with such unvarying good
humor; he rebuked my uncharitableness
so mildly, yet SO firmly; corrected my
false views of life, gave me aims and
thoughts so much nobler; lifted me out
of the miserable petty way of thinking
had contracted in the unwhOlesome
shadow of our family mansion; showed
me life from the standpoint of his own
intense, generous purpose; in doing all
this, won before knew it, my respect,
my admiration and my love; for did
love him-I knew it by the keen pang
felt when saw him at GabTielle's side,
looking into the depths Of her lovely
eyes, and watching the charming flush
on her cheek.
By his arguments. or rather by the
exercise of his will, which was as po-
tent at the old house as il was with me,
he had at least effected q sort OF recon-
ciliation between my family and my
self My aunts now recognized the fact
of my existence, and even occasionally
froZe my lips with kiss; while Ga
brielle, for lack OF another eonfidante,
came in frequently 10 spend an hour
with me, and bored me with accounts OF
the compliments cousin Arthur paid her
-as though ] cared. He never compli-
mented me, though he had once taken
my hand and looked at me in a way that
made my heart tiutter with pleasure. Il
was when he was urging me to attend q
party ct the 'squire's.
sMy black silk will look well in such
an assembly" I said, at last, shortly.
He gave me an odd look.
as Il possible that hear so frivolous
an objection from so sensible young
woman as Miss Jocelyn? Cousin, cousin,
If you ever hope 70 regain my forfeited
esteem, you must wear the black silk To-
r:,.hk so