Year: 1873

Ci@oCu' cTHdpS


There are to whom that name was dear
| For love and memory's sake;


When these the voice of Rumor hear,


| Their inmost heart shall quake.


How will they hope, despair, and grieve-
| Believe, and long to disbelieve--


But never cease TO ache;


| Still doomed in sad suspense to bear


The hope that keeps alive despairp'


She was sitting in the drawing-roor


when went insisting near the window


but not at it-near enough to see, but nc


to be seen by the passers-by; and as m
eye first rested upon her L was struc


with her remarkable beauty and the pei
feet symmetry of her 1.-THE and graceful
figure.


have always been an enthusiastic ad
mirer of female loveliness lin the ab
stract), and was wonderfully struck il
the present instance. Possibly my look
expressed more than l was myself awar
Of, for remember that as | involuntarill
took chair near the one she OCCUPIED
she silently drew herself up with quie
grace and dignity, and leaving her seat
walked to the door with slow, gliding
noiseless step, and left the room. Per
haps it was well she did so, for will
frankly own she was distracting my at
tentiOn from my future landlady. But
the preliminaries were easily settled -
became,a bOarder, and had no cause to re
gret the chance which led me there.
| And thus it was that l became an in.
mate with that lovely being and day by
day l saw her come gliding into the room
taking her place among us, affable still,
but with a calm-I had almost said
haughty-reserve which nothing could
break through, and which effectually
checked all familiarity; for though she
did not repel notice, she never courted it,
and it seemed to me she grew daily more
winning and beautiful.


have said l was confirmed old bach
elOr even then, and this is to be no
shcool-boy's tale of youthful love. /
was long past all the enthusiasm of
my youth. Certainly / did admire her,
possibly 1 was learning to love her,
but it was the calm, unimpassioned
love one bears to beautiful and innocent
child, or to some unprotected dumb thing
whose very helplessness is constant ap-
peal to our kindly nature.


But let me describe her as she was
when first saw her. l have said that
was old then-ay, old, no doubt, as her
father might have been, or even it may
be, as her grandfather, if she had one.
But yet she was not young-I mean she
was not girl, not in the first bloom of
youth, and her beauty was not of the rosy,
pink and white, blushing type that poets
sing and lover-like boys rave about. No :;
hers was the early maturity of loveliness,
perfect in repose, with mild, thoughtful
eyes, intelligent and tender, a trifle sad at
times, but lighting up with quick bril-
liancy as some new object met her view,
or some vivid thought darted its
light through her brain-fOr she was
wonderfully quick of perception-with
an exquisite figure, splendidly full
and symmetrical, yet swaying and
supple as a young willow, and with un-
studied grace in every quick, sinewy mo-
ton.


She spent little upon dress Q was sure
she was noe wealthy: but though there
was little variety, her dress was always
exquisitely neat and in perfect good taste,
of some soft glossy fabric, smooth as
silk and lustrous as satin, and of the soft
est shade of silver-gray, that color so
beautiful in itself and so becoming
to beautiful wearers; simply made,
but fitting with a nicely more like the
work of nature than of art to every
curve and outline of that full and stately
figure, and finished off round her white
throat with something scarcely whittier
made to trail slightly, with graceful
sweep as she walked, but carried with an
easy unconsciousness which gave it Dig
nifty. have always looked upon trains
as awkward and unwomanly appendages,
but l must own that as she carried hers it
was graceful.


She never wore ornaments of any kind,
no chain, no brooch, no ring, no pin, not
even wedding ring, that L ever saw !;
Writ y. Of svaor hn~ xxrnn ohay hoe
but her own thick, glossy hair, always ar.
ranged with scrupulous exactness-no
meretricious additions, no false braids, no
waterfalls, no ringlets, no crimpings |;
she wore her hair an naturet, conforming
as closely as possible to the shape of her
graceful head. Was not that the style in
which Grecian beauty was wont to adorn
itself in the days when Grecian art gave
to mankind the peerless statues destined
through future ages to "enchant the
world ?" But l have spoken of the ab-
sence of wedding-ring, and that re-
minds me that 1 have not yet told you
that she was a mother. She had twins
two beautiful little rolly-poly blue
eyed things wonderfully like her
self little shy, graceful creatures,
always together, always playful. /
used to see them trotting through
the passages, or climbing up and down
the stairs, but they always avoided me,
and it was long time before l could get
near them. They would stanl peeping
out at me from behind halfopen door,
with shy, startled glances of furtive curl
osity; but if called to them, or reached
out my hand, or took step toward them,
they would dart away, and would hear
their little footsteps scampering down the
passages as if fear lent them wings. But
at last, by slow degrees, won their con-
fidence, and then they would come to me
uncalled, and climb upon my knees, and
rest fondly in my arms, or lay their
bright heads upon my shoulder in fearless
content. Ay, they liked to have the old
man tossthem iri the air, and rumple their
glossy hair, or admire the plant grace Of
their young supple limbs; but never from
their lips, or from their mothers did i
ever hear any mention of their other
parent.


think she was evidently fond of her
beautiful little ones, and proud of them
too. She would often lead them out into
the garden where, seated on a bench, in
the shade of its one tree, she would
.~.r