Page:New Peterson magazine 1859 Vol. XXXV.pdf/37

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38

THE

OLD


STONE

MANSION.


become, literally, an atheist. But I still remembered her early instructions, I still cherished the hope of meeting her in a better world. Sometimes, in dreams, I would even see her: we would walk by cool waters and green meadows; she would smile on me as of old; and I would be supremely happy.

From these dreams I would be aroused by the harsh voice of the servant, calling me to rise; and I would have to get up in the dim, early daylight, and dress on the bare floor, in my fireless room.

CHAPTER III-


WHEN I was about sixteen, an event happened. which gave me the first happy hours I had ever spent in my uncle’s house. A new daughter was born to the family. The babe came after such a long interval, and when the hope of so great a blessing had ceased for years, that, for a time, it softened and refined all. From the first, the child took a great fancy to me, a fancy which, I need not say, I returned. My heart, so long shut out from love, lavished all its treasures on this little darling. I can never think of her, even now, without happy tears.

She was, in some respects, a precocious child. I remember the wonder with which I recognized the first gleams of intellect in her, when, one day, as I carried her in my arms, she pointed to some flowers on the paper-hangings, and on my stopping, picked out, with instinctive taste, those that were really the most beautiful. From that hour I watched the rapid development of her mind with intense pleasure. Long before she could talk, I began to tell her little stories, which I am sure she comprehended. She felt sick, and it was I that nursed her, day and night, till she recovered. The first moment of extatic happiness I had known from my orphanage, was when she was strong enough, she put her arms around my neck, kissed me, and called me “dear Maggy.” She was a demonstrative child at all times. Oh! how sweet was the patter of those tiny feet, as she toddled along the entry, early on summer mornings, to ask to be taken into my bed.

The humanizing influence, which little Rosalie brought with her, did not entirely die out. When she was in her second summer, the family, on her account, was ordered to the sea shore. Annually, ever since I had lived at my uncle’s, my aunt and Georgiana had gone out of town in the summer: now to Newport; now to Saratoga; now to Niagara; now to Lake George. But as invariably I had been left at home. But now, such was the attachment of Rosalie for me, I had to be asked to go.

There was a great contrast, however, between the gay and dashing heiress and myself. Georgiana dressed in the height of the fashion, and, though not beautiful, had a figure that made up stylishly: she was accordingly surrounded by admirers, and imitated and envied by her own sex, I had, long since, grown out of my slovenly days, but I dressed with studious plainness, for I had but a scanty allowance, and as I was passionately fond of books, a good deal went for them. The thought of any one caring for me never suggested itself to me as possible. Generally, I disliked gentlemen, for what had I in common with prosy bon vivants like my uncle, or silly dandies such as crowded about Georgiana! My manner, also, in society, was absorbed. Half the time I did not see the dances, nor hear the music. I expressed no surprise, therefore, when I discovered, accidentally, that the retiring young girl, who stole silently to her seat at the table, and to whom a servant, when the dessert came in, brought Mrs. Elliott’s child, that she might give it its dainty allowance of ice-cream, and see that it got no more, was governess, and ate at the first table in this capacity. I only smiled to myself. What did I care, I said, what was thought about me?

I used to sit in an arbor, that overlooked the sea, and read by the hour; and this confirmed the general impression as to my position. It was the first time I had ever seen the ocean, an event in any one’s life. I never tired of looking at the waves breaking on the beach below; at the white sails in the offing; at the sea-eagles hovering over the surf; or at the fishermen launching their boats. Moonlight especially had a charm inexpressible for me. It filled me with a sense of a different existence. One stormy night, when the spray was blown over the lawn to the very hotel, and when nobody but the bather ventured out, and he only to assure himself that the bathing-houses were not being washed away, I wrapped myself in a thick shawl, and stole forth. Never shall I forget the scene, as the great waves, magnified by the darkness, héaved up out of the gloom, and thundered, whitening, down, shaking the very shore. When I returned, a general sneer went round: and I heard more than one whisper of “wants to be romantic,” “I wonder Mrs. Elliott permits it.”

One of the most assiduous admirers of Georgiana was an Englishman, handsome, and about thirty, and who had, in great perfection, that air and manner which belongs to good society. His dress was studiously unostentatious, and his sole