One night, the good lady had a larger party than usual, for she had previously sent out her invitations, comprehending both Juliana, and Kate, the doctor’s eldest daughter. Aunt Nyna was in fine spirits that day, on account of having received a letter from Harry, and with it quite a sum of money, which he desired her to use according as her pleasure or necessity demanded. After tea, when they had all sat down together, the good lady, in the fulness of her heart, besought the pleasure of reading the letter to the company, to which they readily assented. In it, there was, as usual, a message to his “little wife,” assuring her, that if he continued to succeed as well as he had of late, he should come home soon, and claim her as his bride in reality. The young people laughed when they observed that Hesper blushed deeply, and Mr. Byers immediately offered her a large palm-leaf fan.
“Thee shouldn’t notice it when ladies blush, friend Byers,” said aunt Nyna, as she laid down the letter and regarded Hesper with a pleasant smile. “Once the good child only laughed at such things, but now she blushes, and is silent. Canst thee tell me what makes the difference, Hesper?”
“O,” replied Hesper, still blushing and smiling, “it is because I am older, and because—because I don’t know why.”
“That’s it exactly,” said Mr. Byers. “I am entirely satisfied with your explanation, it is so perfectly natural.”
“But,” continued Hesper, recovering her self-possession, “I don’t see how Harry ever came to call me his ‘little wife,’ or why he still persists in doing so, now that we are both so old.”
“Then let me tell thee,” said aunt Nyna, with an expression of great interest. “I can well remember the first time he ever saw thee. He was five years of age, and thou only five days when I took him with me to see the new baby. I never saw a little fellow so delighted with anything in my life. He kissed the baby’s soft round cheeks, so tenderly—looked with wonder and admiration at the little tiny hands, and then prayed us to let him take her in his arms, just one moment. Finally, he asked the baby’s name. The father—he was well and cheerful then—told him it was Hesper. The little fellow shook his curly head thoughtfully, as he said—’I don’t like it—I would much rather have her named sissy, or little Miss Muffit,’ of whom he had learned in his nursery rhymes.
“We all laughed; at which the poor child seemed greatly disconcerted. ‘Look here, Harry,’ said thy father, and he took him kindly on his knee. ‘When my little baby first came to me, it was evening—the sun had gone down behind the hills, and the great clouds which were sailing through the sky, were of many beautiful colors. As I stood at the window, thanking God that he had given me such a precious little daughter, I looked up, and there I saw a beautiful bright star, in the midst of the clouds, shining calmly down upon me. It was the evening star, and years ago the people called it Hesper. It was so very bright and beautiful, that the same thankful, prayerful feeling came over me, that I had when I first looked upon the face of my new-born child. Then I said I will call my little daughter Hesper, for she came to me in the evening, when the night shadows were falling upon the earth, and it may be, as the years pass on, she will become like yonder star, a light to the pathway of many, so we shall bless God that he ever sent her into this world. That is the reason, Harry, why I called her Hesper.’ The little fellow sat in silence, a few moments; then he looked up with his face all aglow with pleasant thoughts. ‘I like it now,’ he said, ‘for the stars are the moon’s babies, and if she came down from God, it is right to call her Hesper, for she, too, is a little star baby.’ It was a simple, child-like thought, but it pleased us much, and for months after, thy mother called thee her ‘star-baby.’ When it was time to go, I could not make the little fellow willing to part from thee. He stole timidly up to thy mother’s bed-room and looked her long and earnestly in the face. ‘Please ma’am,’ he said, at length, in his coaxing, child-like way, ‘won’t you give me your baby?’ Thy mother laid her pale hand gently among his curls, and said—’My dear child, I would not part with my precious baby for all the wealth of the world.’ The little fellow was disappointed. His lips quivered, and his eyes filled with tears. ‘Never mind, Master Harry,’ said thy father, by way of consolation. ‘Wait till you are older, and better able to take care of her, and then you shall have her for your little wife, if you will.’ He seemed well contented with this promise, and went away quite willingly. In after years, thy father disapproved of it, when Harry called thee by that name, but thy father himself was first at fault, for the child never forgot the promise, but has called thee his little wife, from that day to this.”
“And in all probability, he will call her so to the day of his death,” said Mr. Byers, “only in a higher and more truthful sense.”
“No, no;” said Hesper, seriously, “I never shall marry. I said so when I was a child, and I say so now.”
“Pshaw!” said Mr. Byers, with seeming impatience, “who ever heard such nonsense! A good looking, useful, affectionate girl, making a resolution at seventeen, to be an old maid to all eternity! Why, you deserve the censure of all sober-minded, rational people. If I were only a young man of twenty, the first thing I would do, would be to offer myself to you, and I don’t know,” he added, “but what, even now—” Here he hesitated, and looked over towards Hesper, with that indescribable twinkle of sly humor in his eyes which was perfectly irresistible. The whole company burst into a hearty laugh, and Hesper, falling in with the old man’s merry mood, signified her willingness at once to receive a formal proposal.