Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1885-05-27
THE OLD BACHELOR.

W
an uptown stage before all those ferry peo-
pie blocked into it, when there she sat on a
curbstone, the wind blowing her yellow
hair about and her poor little hands blue
with cold, crying as if her heart would
break. | didn't think the veriest savage
could have helped stopping to ask her what
the matter was, and | don't call myself a
savage, if [ do happen to have my little
crusty fits now and then. So says =
"Chid, what's the matter?'
'I'm lost! - says she.
The poor little elf was fatherless moth
erless, friendless, in all the wide world! OF
course l took her home and you ought to
have seen old Hannah, my housekeeper,
stare when | walked in with the yellow
haired baby clinging to the little finger Of
my left hand. For she wasn't more than
eight years old, and small at that.
II give you a months warning, sir ~
says Hannah. But, bless your soul, she
didn't go. Maggie took her heart by storm,
as she al ways has done that of the rest of
| the world, and at a month S end you couldn t
have hired Hannah to leave the child.
Well sir, she grew up as tall as reed
and as pretty as posy. l sent her to Mad
anne Aimard's fashionable French board
ing school, for I wasn't going to have my
Maggie whit behind any one else's girl,
| can tell you.
When she came home from the boarding
school, she vas prettier than ever-tall, as
| said before, with yellow, silky hair, great,
sbady-looking blue eyes, with lashes that
curled up at the ends, and checks as fresh
and pink as | remember the inside of two
big shells that used to stand on my grand
fathers restroom mantel fifty good years
ago.
So l cast about in my mind to find some
new plan for making the old house lively
for my little girl. l knew she couldn't
thrive without her innocent gayeties, any
more than a bird could without fresh air
and sunshine; so | invited company and
made up little impromptu parties and frol-
les, and beat my brains for something to
keep her amused. And | believe | sue
ceeded, too, for her step was as light as a
feather, and you could hear her sing all
over the house, when she thought she was
alone.
And one day old Hannah came in, dust
ing chairs and prying about for finger
marks on the paint in her odd, near-sighted
way.
''NIr. Pelham" says she, rubbing away
at door knob that was as bright before as
hands could make it, "what would you say
if we were to have a wedding in the old
house,"
ga wedding - dropped my pen so that
it made big round blot ON the paper, and
stared. "Why, you're not going to be mar
ried, Hannah, after all these years ?''
"Do l look like it ?' shifted Hannah,
contemptuodsly- to tell the truth, she
didn t very much. mo indeed, sir; hope
l know my place better than that. It's
Miss Maggie I'm thinking of Sir"
"What makes you think so, Hannah -
| asked rather dolorously, and the old wo-
man lowered her voice mysteriously as she
answered =
Its that Mr.. Carlisle-he keeps coming
all the time, and it's my honest belief he
just wo ships the ground my young lady
walks on. He is very handsome, too, and
folks tell me he is worth money"
Mr.. Carlisle! Well, old Hannah was
well-to do in this worlds goods; but-who
haired princess with the dewy blue eyes and
the lips like scarlet coral newly plucked
out of the sea? began to hate Carlisle.
pooh ~ said | 81 don't think she
cares for Carlisle"
"Just you watch her, then. and see for
yourself" said old Hannah, wisely .wagging
her cap border. 81 never did set up for a
prophet, Mr.. Pelham, but them as isn't
blind can t help seeing, and our eyes is
given to us to use"
So old Hannah went her way, leaving
me about as uncomfortable as a man has
any business to be.
l think l hardly slept at all that night. l
tossed to and fro on my pillow, counting
the chimes of the old clock as one by one,
it told the hours, thinking about Maggie
and Carlisle, and wondering if the tardy
day-break would never Tedden over the
hill-tops.
But by that time my mind was made up.
l would repress all those selfish ideas and
only think of my girls ultimate happiness.
If she liked Carlisle, why, Carlisle should
have her.
l rose, dressed and went down to my
study. The first thing | saw was note
lying on my library table. Probably it had
arrived late last night. | broke the seal
it was from George Carlisle asking permis-
sion to address Miss Magdalen Pelham.
Well-it was nothing more than l had
expected-in fact, it rather expedited mat
tiers, which ought not to run too smoothly.
| refolded the epistle and looked severely
at myself in the opposite glass.
"4 on middle-aged old fogy," quoth |,
staring at myself with the severest express
sion of countenance 1 could call up at so
short notice, 81 see through you. You
have dared to suppose bright-eyed Magda-
len could prefer you to these gay, young
fellows nearer her own age-you have even
presumed to fall a little spice in love with
her yourself. 1t will do you good to have
some of the nonsense taken out of you. At
your time of life, too Did you ever see
chestnut tree poisoning in November or a
grapevine loaded with blue fruit at mid
winter"
So off trudged into the garden where
Magdalen always walked in the early morn
ing, to tell her of young Carlisle's proposal
She listened, looking very pretty and pre-
occupied, until had finished
''Well?'' said she.
''Well," rejoined, ''what do you say?
''What do say? No, of course "
You mean yes, my DEAR" said l, eff
you II only take time to Think