Year: 1869

Some forty years since in the interior
of my native state, New York, lived
the father of cur heroine, an honest
and respectable farmer He had but
two children-Lucy, noble girl of
nineteen, and Ellen, year or two
younger. The first named was win
ningly rather than strikingly beautiful.
Under q manner observable for its Sc
riousness and nun-like serenity, were
concealed an impassioned nature, and a
heart Of the deepest capacity for loving
She was remarkable from her earliest
childhood for voice of thrilling and
haunting sweetness.


Elleh Dutton was the brilliant anti
pode Of her sister, "born beauty"
whose prerogative of beauty was to
have hSr own way in all things and at
all times. An indulgent father, a weak
mother. and an idolizing sister, who
unconsciously contributed to the ruin
of nature not at first remarkable for
strength or generosity.


Where, in all Gods creatures, is
heartlesness so seemingly unnatural,
is seltishness so detestable, as in beau
tiful woman?


Lucy possessed fine intellect, and
as her parents were well read New
Englanders, she and her sister were
far peter educated than other girls of
her station in that then half-settled part
of the country. In those days many
engaged in school teaching, from the
honor and pleasure it afforded, rather
than from necessity. Thus, few
months previous to the commencement
of our story, Lucy Dutton left for the
first time her freside circle, to take the
charge of school some twenty miles
from her native town. For some time
her letters home were expressive only
of the happy contentnfent which sprang
from the consciousness of active use
fulness, of receiving, while imparting,
good. But anon there came change.
Then were those records from home
characterized by ftful gaiety or dreamy
sadness; indefnable hopes and fears
seemed struggling for supremacy in the
writer's troubled little heart. Lucy
loved, but scarcely acknowledged it to
herself, while she knew not that she
was loved. So for time, that second
birth of woman's nature was like a
warm sunrise struggling with the cold
mist of the morning.


But one day brought letter which
could not be forgotten in the home of
the absent, and letter traced by a
hand that trembled in sympathy with
heart tumultuous with happiness
Lucy had been wooed and won, and
she but waited her parents approval of
her choice, to become the betrothed of
Edwin W, man of excellent fam
lily and standing in the town where she
had been teaching. The father and
mother accorded their sanction with
many blessings, and Lucy's next letter
promised speedy visit from the lovers.


To such natures as Lucy's what an
absorbing and yet what revealing of
self is a first passion-what prodigal
ity of giving, what an incalculable
wealth of receiving-what a breaking
up is there of the deep waters of the
soul, and how heaven descends in a
sudden star shower upon life. If there
is a season when an angel may look
with interest upon her mortal sister, it
is when she beholds her heart pass from
its budlike innocence and girlhood,
and tasking to its. very core the fervid
light of love, glow and crimson into
perfect womanhood.


AT last the plighted lovers came, and
welcomes and festivities awaited them.
Mr.. W. gave entire satisfaction to
father, mother, and even the exacting
"beauty." He was handsome man,
with some pretensions to fashion. but
in manner, and apparently in charac
ter, the opposite of his betrothed.


1t was decided that Lucy should not
again leave home until after marriage,
which, at the request of the ardent
lover, was to be celebrated within two
months, and on the birthday of the
bride. 1t was therefore arranged that
Ellen should return with Mr.. W. to
take charge of her sisters school for
the remainder of the term.


The bridal day had come. 1t had
been ushered in by May morning of
surprising loveliness, the busy hours
had worn away, and now it was nigh
sunset, and neither the bridegroom nor
Ellen, the first bridesmaid, had ap-
peared. Yet, in her neat little ,cham-
Der sat Lucy, nothing doubling, moth
ing fearing. She was already in sim
pie white muslin, and her few bridal
ornaments lay on the table by her side.
Miss Allen, her second bridesmaid, a
bright-eyed, affectionate-hearted girl,
her chosen friend from childhood, was
arranging to more graceful fall the
wealth Of light ringlets which swept
her snowy neck. To the anxious in
ouiries of her comnanion resnectino, the