Glen's Creek

by Mary Jane Holmes

She might have added, also, that constant exposure to the weather had rendered still darker Orianna’s complexion, which was naturally a rich brunette. But whatever else she might have said was prevented by Mrs. Gorton, who fell in a death-like swoon at her feet. The shock was too great, to know that in the gentle Orianna, whose noble conduct had won the love of so many hearts, she beheld her long-wept-for daughter Madeline.

Upon Marian and Orianna the knowledge that they were sisters operated differently, according to their different temperaments. With a cry of joy Marian threw her arms around Orianna’s neck, who, when made to comprehend the reality, burst into tears, saying, “I thought I should be white sometime—I almost knew I should.”

By this time Mrs. Gorton had recovered from her fainting fit, and clasping her newly found daughter to her bosom, thanked the God who so unexpectedly had restored her. The next day the news reached Lexington, bringing thence Robert, who, in the intensity of his joy, seemed hardly sane. At a glance he foresaw the future. Orianna, for so he would always call her, should go to school for five years, and at the end of that time, images of a noble, beautiful bride rose before him, as he hurriedly traversed the road to Grassy Spring. Their interview we shall not describe, for no one witnessed it, though Marian impatiently remarked that “it took Bob much longer to tell what he had to say than it did George when he first came to Lexington.” But then Marian had forgotten, as who will not forget, or pretend to.

Old Narretta was the only one who seemed not to share the general joy. She looked upon Orianna as lost to her for ever, and heard the plan of sending her to school with unfeigned sorrow. Still, she made no objections to whatever Mr. and Mrs. Gorton chose to do with their child: and when Orianna was well enough, she gave her consent that she should be removed to her father’s house, where every possible indulgence was lavished upon her by her parents, in order to attach her to them and their mode of life.

There was now no tie to bind Narretta to Grassy Spring, and yielding to Orianna’s entreaties, she accompanied her to Lexington, occupying a cabin which Mr. Gorton built for her on the edge of the wood at the foot of the garden. Here, many times a day, she saw her child, who was now Robert’s daily pupil. But Robert found it more difficult to tame his Indian girl than he had at first anticipated. On one subject—that of dress—she for a time seemed incorrigible. Occasionally she would assume the style worn by Marian, but soon casting it off, she would don her old costume, in which she felt and looked most at home. But one day the Indian dress mysteriously disappeared. More than a week Orianna sought for it in vain; then, with a flood of tears, she yielded the point, and wore whatever her friends thought proper. Her complexion, too, with which great pains was taken, gradually grew fair, until all trace of the walnut stain disappeared.

In October she was placed in the best school of which Philadelphia could then boast. She was always shy and timid, but her gentle manners and sweet disposition, to say nothing of the romance connected with her history, made her a general favourite with her companions, while the eagerness with which she sought for knowledge rendered her equally a favourite with her teachers. In speaking of this once to her mother, who was visiting her, she said, “When dear Charlie died, I thought there was no one left to love me, but now it seems that every body loves me.”

Here we will say a word concerning little Ella, who, two days after Charlie’s funeral, had gone home with her father to Virginia. Almost constantly she talked of Orianna, and on learning that she was Marian’s sister, her delight was unbounded. When intelligence was received that she had been placed at school in Philadelphia, Capt. Wilder, yielding to Ella’s importunities, consented to send her there also. Ella had not taken into consideration how greatly changed her Indian friend must necessarily be, and when, on reaching Philadelphia, a beautiful young lady entered the room, neatly and fashionably attired, she could scarcely believe that it was her companion of the forest.

At Orianna’s request they became roommates, and it was difficult to tell which was more child-like, the tall maiden of twenty-one, or the curly-haired girl of nine.

Five years seems a long, long time, but to Orianna it soon glided away, and then she left school, a much better scholar than now is often graduated at our most fashionable seminaries. During her stay in Philadelphia, she had become greatly attached to the city, and Robert, whose wealth would admit of his living where he pleased, purchased a handsome dwelling, fitting it up according to his own taste, which was rather luxurious.

Six years from the night of Marian’s bridal, there was another wedding at the house of Mr. Gorton, and Orianna, now a beautiful woman of twenty-six, was the bride. George and Marian both were present, together with a lisping Charlie, and a dark-eyed baby “Orianna,” who made most wondrous efforts to grasp the long diamond earrings which hung from its auntie’s ears, for, Indian-like, Orianna’s passion for jewellery was strong and well developed.