Year: 1870

l was plodding home from church one
dull Sunday last spring, while my niece
Hester walked lightly beside me, skimming
over the muddy spots on the tips Of her
bronze boots. She always lifted her feet as
if they were shod with those little wings
which sculptors carve on the heels of Mer-
curry.


Judge Clifton drove by US with his son,
and saw tine latter touch his fathers arm
to make him observe us. He stopped at
once, and said in that cordial tone which
had always made music in my ears:


Let me drive you the rest of your way,
Miss Prudence"


We had not many steps more to our house,
but Hester had been lifted into the carriage
by Edward Clifton without waiting for my
yea or nay.


well, little Hester, suppose this dull
weather makes you home-sick for the city,"
"No, indeed. l could live in Weston for
ever. We had a splendid time Tuesday,
and L have lived upon it ever since


She was going on. l knew her next
words would refer to the Shaker village
which she had visited on that day. People
always pitch upon that subject with Judge
Clifton, as il it were his fate to hear moth
ing else. One can never have a tender spot,
but it would seem as if every child had
pin wherewith to probe it. 1 flashed black
look at Hester and squeezed her hand hard.
In an instant she had tossed her handker-
chief out of the window, and while Edward
ran back to get it, we reached our own
door in silence. That girl is not as Others
in the rosebud garden of girls" She is
only sixteen, and l would match her for fact
with Madame de Maintenon.


What in the world, - began Hester when
she had chance; but l said it was lopg
story. and I would tell it to her some time
The evening proved rainy, and knew
from the careful way in which Hester swept
the hearth, and enticed the fire into bril-
liant glow, that she meant to hear the story
before she went to bed.


"a clear fire and clean hearth, are as
necessary to my comfort as to that of the
late Mrs. Sarah Battles, when she entered on
her favorite whist.


"Begin at the beginning and tell me all
about it." said Hester, clasping her arms
about my knees, and laying her head upon
them. Thus enticed, l entered at once upon
the following narrative:


am quite sure nothing ever happened in
Weston which stirred it to such pitch of
excitement as the Clifton trouble. 1t was
not only nine days wonder, it took months
for people to accept it as a. fixed fact; and
even now, when gossip is at low ebb, it is
raked out of the past and told over again,
and many people think there will yet be
new and startling end to the story. heard
it first at the sewing circle" and every wo-
man of US held our breath to listen; not one
of US was bold enough to say 81 told you
So" for Thoughts nameless longing and a
vague unrest had long been written on
Mrs. Clifton's face, no one has ever transla-
ted it.


+, But forget you have never seen the first
Mrs. Clifton. She was painfully beautiful,
like the Sistine Madonna, with eyes striving
to look into heaven, and not bit of earth
illness in them. She never was like other
people from the beginning, and could not
seem to give or receive the right hand of
fellowship among them.


The widow Bourne came home from pray
er meeting one night, and found her, then
only few days old, in basket on her door
. step, well wrapped from the cold. but with
no possible clue to her origin. The snow
lay deep on the ground, but frozen SO hard
that no foot prints were visible. A full
moon, almost turning night into day, deep
ened the mystery, and seemed to prove that
whoever left the child had felt secure from
discovery.


The widow Bourne was slone, iorn wo-
man." and took the baby to her heart as
godsend In fanciful remembrance of her
coming in the moonlight, she called her
Diana, and not "pale Dian" herself grew up
to look more coldly pure. 1t was as if some
cunning sculptor had breathed life into his
masterpiece and forgotten to give it the
color oflife. Her pale yellow hair looked
almost dark on the whiteness of her fore
head. One thought Of Undine and the
White Lady, of Avenel, and other ghostly
women; one almost needed II dark back
ground to see her at all.


Mrs. Bourne worked hard for her foster
child. and loved her as women always love
that which costs them most trial; but Di.
ana returned only the mechanical affection
and obedience of an animal that is kindly
treated +


know no reason except the Mohamme.
dan one, at was written" that Edward
Clifton should have fallen i'll love with this
snow maiden; the glamour came upon
him in his boyhood, and grew with bis
growth. 4. -.....


The lovliest flowers and fruit were always
on her desk in the great "courting school,
called the Academy" where we were all
educated


A running fire of small sarcarms alway:
connected their names, but these family
venomed points slid off from Diana's pol
ished GOODNESS, as if we had criticised {
statue.


If she ever melted at all, it was under tht
sunny influence of Mary Sumner, a girl will
an aspiring nose, eyes of No color ant
every feature unreconciled to the rest We
her plainness had a magnetic quality tt
draw all love, except that which she longet
for most.


There is freemasonry among womel
which teaches them each others secrets
power used sometimes for priceless com