Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1892-10-22


bright star that shone in Aunt Mercy . blighted
heart the star that softened with its mellow
light every hard or unkind thought, every trial
and care. that brightens Aunt Mercy's very ex-
istence, was Lucie. And now Aunt Mercy was
weeping in fear and dread What II that star
should be shorn of its brightness? Or II it
should be taken from her and then extin-
guished? "Oh, no, oh. no, she sobbed, 81 will
tell her tomorrow. l will save her. She shall
not be heartbroken like me, my dear. dear
Lucie."
And then, weary with her weeping, she fell
asleep and did not awaken until Lucie came up
to bid her goodnight.
"Why, auntie, what's the matter" she ex-
claimed
"Lor, child, / must ha' ben dreamin' about
ole times, guess" replied Aunt Mercie,
when you was . little tot an used to make
mud pies in the back yard an git your frocks
all dirty. You was dreffle cute little one. too.
dearie."
Luci. kissed her and then going quietly out
Of the room retired to her own chamber.
She did not sleep very much that night She
was thinking what a fascinating man was Mr..
Benedict Hull HE has such lovely manners"
thought the girl, AN he knows so much ~
And then her thoughts reverted to Aunt
somehow with Mr.. Hull but in what way there
could be any connection she WAS at loss to
find out. Mr.. Hull, however, occupied the
greater part Of her wakeful moments and fig
ured largely in her dreams. Aunt Mercy also
had Mr.. Hull in her thoughts and dreams and
II that favored gentleman had known to what
extent his image was closeted in the mansion of
the "Perkinses' he would no doubt have felt
highly honored.
The next morning dawned bright and beauti-
ful. The sweet peas in Aunt Mercy's garden
seemed to lift their heads to drink in the de-
licious air and the birds twittered gleefully in
the elm trees that bordered the road on each
side. Lucie was down early and at o'clock
punctually breakfast was ready. 1t was rather
a solemn meal however, for Aunt Mercy evil
IDENTIFY seemed to have something on her mind
She hardly spoke at ALL and then only to ask
Tor some article of food Lucie was very quiet
and seemed absorbed in thought. She was look
ing into her heart, seeing there an image. but
very, very faint as yet, of Mr.. Benedict Hull.
1t would not require very much on his part to
develop the image into an idol for her adora-
ton, but still as vet it was but shadow And
she was trying to learn its meaning, though it
puzzled her to some extent.
After breakfast was over, the things cleared
away and everything put into place in apple
pie order Aunt Mercy said:
Come, dearie. let's go for our walk now I'm
glad it's sech lovely mornin'"
"All right aunNe," cried Lucie and getting
her hat she joined her aunt, and the two wan
dered over toward patch of woods which
stretched across the fields. about a half mile
back of their house. Taking path that wound
prettily through these woods they followed it
until they reached a fallen tree, upon which
they sat down.
At first neither spoke. Lucie knew that some
thing unusual coming, and Aunt Mercy was
trying to find way to begin what she wanted
to say.
aunt Mercy" at length ventured Lucie.
"dld-dld you want to tell me anythin'
special! Isis it anythin' about Mr.. Hull,
auntie?"
"Waal, no-not exactly about Mr. Hull,
dearie, but something that you might apply to
his keepin' sech stiddy comp'ny with YOU
Lucle, dear, m agoin' to tell you things which
never 'spected to tell a Twin soul-things
which happened to me when l was gal your
age. or pr APPS year or two older"
"Oh. auntie, do go on, and I'll never never
say word to any one about it, nuther'
"All right, dearie; wait Jest a minute tel
kinder get things jined together in my mind. ~
Lucie smiled and waited while her aunt
thought moment. She had always known
that there had been something of a romance
connected with Aunt Mercy's youth, but
what it was had never been revealed TO her.
And now she was eager to hear it
all, and waited impatiently for Aunt Mercy to
line things together in her mind Finally
that operation having apparently been per-
formed to the old ladys satisfaction, she
began:
'Now, dearie, in the fust place, you must
promise never to tell Twin soul what IN
agoin' to tell you"
Deed promise faithfully, auntie, said the
''Waal, then, secondly. you must pay the
strictest 'tention to me, then you kin think
while.'
"All right, will, auntie, dear" Clipped in
Lucie with kiss; and SO Aunt Mercy started in
when was a gal bout twenty l was con-
sldereG by some folks to be purity good lookin'
and tho I've changed to homely ole maid now
still used to prink up fore the glass an CAD
about to parties an hold my own with the best
on EN-. Waal, twas in the winter time, an as
said, l was jest twenty when l went visitin'
There was some folks who had kinder took
fancy to me one summer, an they had asked
me to come an spend Janiery and Febiery with
EN- at their place bout fifty mile from here
not great ways off from the city o. Boston.
liked 'em mighty well. an so packed up nv
things an went l kin remember the day Jest
as well as if twas only yesterday. Twas snowin
hard, an looked like twas agoin to keep it up
too. lef' here in the mornih and twas nigh
onto o'clock in the afternoon afore got there
There was two gals an young man in the
family beside the parents. As got out of the
carriage at their front gate the young man
whose name was Jack-come out an helped me
out, an then the two gals was on the piazzy an
gave me a cordial welcome. An when got
inside an had taken off my wraps an set there
afore an open fire in that han some settin' room
think was jest about as happy an full of
sperlts as young BODY could be. What
did In the two weeks follering n dn't mention
Drivin' an sleighin, dancin' an all kinds of
parties. l was nothin' but a country gal, of
course, an didn't know all the fashionable
ways that the others did, an now an then I'd
git laughed at an made fun Of But had a
good time through it all. P'raps | would have
minded the way the two gals would laugh at
me an talk about my don all kinds of queer
things eff it hadn't ben for Jack 1
heard one OF his sisters say one day to
a handsome woman that / was a real
nice country gal an she mustn't mind my
funny ways. An when felt badly over it an
looked kinder glum that evenin Jack asked me
what was the matter, an, when told him he
said 1t was shame an that was as good as
any on EN-. an he was jest as nice as could be.
Jack used to comfort me so sweetly an he was
sech han some fellow too. Dear Jack, sighed
Aunt Mercy, little brokenly, .He was very
good to me. WAL, when it come time for me
to go home agn, an l had had all wanted of
parties an things, thanked EN- all for their
goodness an kindness an left on a rainy after
noon in the first week in March. was kinder
glad was agoin' home agin', for l longed to
see the folks an the dear ole town an the cat
an everythin'. My greatest feelin' of sorrow
at leavin was on account Of Jack. But he said
he I'd run down in the summer an see me, so 1
felt better. WAL, when summer come. got
letter from him askin' if he might bring frien'
with him. l had already invited him to STAY
with us, an, of course, told him yes 1 wish