Year: 1869

A NIGHT OF YEARS.


Some forty years since, in the
interior of my native State, New
York, lived the father Of our hero
inc, an honest and respectable
farmer. He had but two children
a noble girl Of nineteen,
and Ellen, year or two younger.
The first named was winningly
rather than strikingly beautiful.
Under a manner observable for it's
seriousness and nun-like serenity,
were concealed an impassioned
nature, and heart of the deepest
capacity for childhood and voice
of thrilling and haunting sweetness.


Ellen Dutton was the brilliant
antipode of her sister, a "born
beauty" whose prerogative of
beauty was to have her own way in
all and at all times. An indulgent,
father, weak mother, an idolizing
sister, who unconsciously contri-
buted to the ruin of a nature not at
first remarkable for strength or
generosity.


Where, in all Gods creatures, is
heartlessness SO seemingly unnat-
ural, lis selfishness so detestable, as
in a beautiful woman.


Lucy possessed a fine intellect,
and as her parents were well read
New Englanders, she and her sister
were far better 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 a few
months previous to the commence
ment of our story, Lucy Dutton left
for the first time her freside circle,
to take charge of a school some
twenty miles from her native town.


For some time her letters home
were expressive of the happy con-
tentment which sprang from the
consciousness of active usefulness,
of receiving, while imparting, good.
But anon there came change.
Then were those records, from
home characterized by fitful gaiety
or dreamy sadness; undefnable
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 warm sunrise struggling with
the cold mist of the morning.


But one day brought a letter
which could not be forgotten in the
home Of the absent, and letter
traced by 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, a man of excellent family
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 a speedy visit from
the lovers.


To such natures as Lucy's what
an absorbing and yet what re-
vealing of self is first passion
what a prodigality of giving, what
an incalculable wealth Of receiving
what 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 sis
ter, it is when she beholds. he1
heart pass from its bud-like inno-
cence and girlhood, and taking7to
its very core the feryid light oi
love, glow and crimson into woman
hood. s


AT last the plighted lovers came
and welcomes and festivities awaited
them. Mr.. W. gave entire satisfac-
ton to father, mother, and even the
exacting s'beauty." He was 6
handsome man, with some pre-.
tensions to fashion, but in manner
and apparently in character, the
opposite of his betrothed.


| It was decided that Lucy should
not again leave home until after
her marriage, which, at the request
of her ardent lover, was to be eel
ebrated within two months, and or
the birthday of the bride. 1t was
therefore arranged that Eller
should return with Mr.. w. to take
charge of her sisters school for the
remainder Of the term.


The bridal day had come. 1t was


ushered in by a may morning OF
surprising loveliness; the busy
hours had worn away, and now il
was nigh sunset, and neither the
bridegroom, nor Ellen, the frs
bridesmaid, had appeared. Yet il
\ 4 III : b