Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1883-06-21
LOVE AND LEARNING.

"Well, Aunt NIillicent, what do you
think of my choice. Is she not the dear
est little wife in the world?"
Arthur Pemberton had just come
home from business, and met his aunt
in the snug little drawing-room, where
the red plush curtains hung in such
vivid folds, and the fire glowed in the
twilight like a crimson jewel.
Somewhere in the room there was q
daphne-tree in full blossom. You could
smell its sweetness, even though you
could not detect its whereabouts BY
means of the eye; and bright-plumed
bird whistled softly in the half-light, as
if it were soliloquizing to itself
Arthur Pemberton had not seen the
old aunt who had brought him up for
q year-a year which, to him, had been
full of eventful interest, for within its
bright circle of months he had wooed
and won the wife who was to him the
sweetest creature in all the world
And now, that his aunt had returned
from Edinburgh, where she had been
spending long holiday with an old
friend who was the wife of learned
professor filling q chair at the high
school there. he had looked forward to
her visit with sense of happy exulta-
ton.
"She will take mothers place to my
motherless darling" he thought; land
she cannot help admiring the dear little
thing"
And so he had hurried home from his
business upon this particular evening,
to feast his ears on Miss Pembertonfs
tribute of delight and homage to Amy's
charms.
Aunt Milicent was tall, rather stiff,
elderly lady, in black silk, with compact
little punches of grey curls on either
side of her face, gold spectacles, and a
mouth which seemed to screw itself to-
gether, instead of closing like other
peoples lips.
She allowed herself to be kissed af-
fectionately by her nephew, and then
Strengthened out her cap-ribbons with
sigh.
II think, Arthur said she sepul-
chrally, THAT you have married a
child!'
"Well, she is young" admitted the
husband, laughing. "But she is such
darling!''
"She can't be twentyfi' said Aunt
Millicent. ~.
"Just twenty" said Arthur.
"And so unformedr' added the old
lady, who had a way of heaving up deep
sighs from the lower regions of her
lungs at the end of every sentence,
which was: to say the least of it, de-
pressing.
"You mean----"
mo system!'' said Aunt Milliccnt
''No definite aim in life! No logic!'
"But," pleaded her nephew, "what
does she want with system, and logic,
and all that sort of thing?"
'Sitting ON the rug reading fairy
tales" said Aunt Millicent, with sniff
of contemptuous scorn, like baby!
And then confessing out and out, to me
without so much as u blush of shame,
that she has never read Milton's Para
disc Regained,' and is quite ignorant of
Shakespeare! Any ten-year old child
ought to be ashamed to own such fla
grant ignorance! And when | asked
her about the lecture classes and scien-
tific gatherings in the neighborhood, she
couldn't give me single item of infor-
nation, but kissed me, and wanted me
to eat chocolate-creams out of a pink
satin box!'
Mr. Pemberton laughed.
And the next instant Amy herself
came into the room-a beautiful young
creature, with golden hair, bound care
lessly with blue fillets of ribbon, in
way which Aunt Millicent secretly pro-
nounced "crazy fashion, pale-blue
silk dress, and the prettiest of high
heeled French slippers.
''Tea is ready, Arthur" she said;
land I've got some Dundee marmalade
and real Scotch scenes on purpose for
you, Aunt Millicent."
Could there be anything prettier or
more lovable, the young husband asked
himself, than this gold-tressed fairy who
fitted about the room, seeming to Gre
ate sweet home atmosphere wherever
she went-this dimpled little plaything,
who knelt on the rug, playing with
the cat, and never attempted to follow
the thread of the conversation, while
Aunt Millicent and her nephew discuss
ed shakespeare and the musical
glasses" and criticised the last volume
of essays and the latest poem.
''Because, you know, I'm not liter
ary," confessed Amy, as she drew
rosebud about the carpet to attract the
antics of pussy, and laughed peal
of sweet, girlish laughter, when the
rosebud was captured at last
But Mr. Pemberton was little graver
than usual that evening, after Aunt
Millicent and her candle had disappear
ed, with a majesty not unworthy Of Lady
Macbeth, into her apartment, which
Amy had filed with flowers, old china,
Turkey rugs, and all manner Of pretty
trifes. Was Amy really frivolousp or
was 1t that Aunt Millicent's higher
plane of life dwarfed her narrow circle
of existence?'
"Amy," said he, '.you must have
great deal of timepo