Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1886-11-17
UNCOMFORTABLE LOVE.
Old Aunt Dorothy and Her Ever
Noble Prince.

"What was all that comm0tl0n about
Just nowP"
'Oh, nothing. 1t was only some
stupid old man who had not been in the
town for ever so long going by, and
Mrs. Brown called us to see. What
have / done with my glovesP knoso
brought them in here. Oh, there they
are, under that chair. What plaques
things are!-Coming, Annette, COM
ihgr'
'Did she say who the old man WASP"
But the words were spoken to empty
air, for the heroine of the gloves was
already flying down stairs in the best
approved costume for the fashionable
promenade.
Her great-aunt, Miss Dorothy Field
ing, bent back, meditating, in her chair.
She was cripple of many years stand
ing from rheumatism and sciatica, and
could move but little without assist
ance.
She was very old; but although her
face had many wrinkles, there was
abundant play of expression about
it yet, and living evidence that
she had by no means outlived
her faculties. An ordinary face it
never had been, although, equally, she
had never been beautiful. In her youth
some had called her plain, some good
looking, some pretty; but full ii life and
expression that face had always been;
full of character, and that no ordinary
one, full of vivacity, the light of which
after four-score years was even yet I'M
quenched.
Her eyes were dark brown, sensible,
true and very kindly. Any one with u
degree of Imagination in their brains
would have felt certain her companion
ship even now would not be dull; so
sympathetic, bright, and, in the evening
time of life, so placidly content was the
countenance that looked forth under the
matronly cap and thick grey hair. She
had been full of love and lovers with
the brightest, once upon time; she
had dreamt many a waking dream, had
been attractive and popular; but she
had never married. She was Miss
Fielding now, as she had been at the
beginning of the chapter.
The young people around her were
on the whole selfish, preoccupied set,
who had few thoughts to spare from
dress and gaiety, and who would as
soon have thought of giving up one OF
their pleasures to sit for an hour with
Aunt Dorothy as of bong hospital
nurses. When she had come amongst
them some months previously, she had
looked forward to being their confidante
on various points. All her soul kindled
yet over a real love affair, and she could
sympathize also with minor matters of
small Irritation and girish fun. But even
she could make little of these great
nieces of hers. Her innate good taste
rccoled from their fastness, with I'M
scrupulouS stratagems, their loud
spoken Immature toward other girls,
and the utter absence of all love,
worthy the name, from their schcming,
worldly, and unwomanly love affairs.
Their father had taken this house,
which was large and handsome, for the
four months season at Fairbeach, and
rs he was very fond of his aunt, and
rooms could be spared for her use, he
had asked her to come to them for that
period. Old Miss Fielding, being very
comfortably of, had never sunk into
the immovable habits that might have
been expected from her age and inflrm-
tiles, and she accepted the invitation
and enjoyed the change. She had long
ago made her intentions plain as re-
garded the money she had to leave; it
was all to 60 to this, her only nephew,
with the exception only of few lega-
cies to old servants, friends, and God
children. One of these last was her
niece Laura; and whether it is that peo-
pie are by nature like their God-parents
or not, Laura was very much the incest
of the four Miss Fieldngs. She had a
happy disposition, and could bear a dis
appointment without going into depths
of despair or getting thoroughly cross
until the next diversion dawned, as
her sisters did. 1t was, alas, very
uneducated character, for Mr.. Field
ing was easy-going and over-indul-
gent to his children, while their
mother was worldly woman Of
lady-like exterior, and very comfort
able principles rs regarded coarse.
minded schemes for marrying her
daughters "well."
Laura, therefore, as might have been
expected, was no paragon of perfection,
but she was obviously improbable, than
which few better things can be said OF
any human being. Not only good tenn.
per, but little more earnestness oil
aim, little more delicacy of feeling,
and greater warmth of affection distin.
guished her from her sisters. Aunt
Dorothy took her home to her large
heart and believed in her, and Laura
was, half-unconsciously, already the
better from this sojourning of their aunt
among them. She came into the room
soon after her sisters departure, and
was asked the same questions given be-
fore.
lit was an old Mr.. Picardy, who
lives few miles of, and had not beer
in the town for ages. He has driven in
an open carriage up Friar's hill"
"Then he must return this wayP
said Aunt Dorothy.
Eyes, suppose so.
Humming q tune, Laura went or
rummaging distant table-drawer fol-
something that she wanted-things dt
mislay themselves in thoroughly un
tidy house.
Laura" said her aunt, "come here
my dear. l used to know this Mr.. Pi
cary, formerly, and should much like tc
see him passing back. Do you think
without saying any thing to any one
you could manage to wheel me in my
chair into the drawing-roomP"
1t was on the tip of Laura's tongue t
raise objections. Aunt Dorothy KEEP
entirely in her own rooms, and it would
be quite an innovation to establish he
in the drawing-room. But she jus
looked at her aunt's face and saw Their,
so much cagcrness and wistfulness tina
something stirred her heart.
She was almost surprised at hersel
for the alacrity with which she said: