Tempest and Sunshine

by Mary Jane Holmes

"Yes, whether she likes me or not," answered Frederic, "I shall marry her first, and make her like me afterward."

So saying he sauntered off to another part of the room, little thinking that what he had spoken in jest would afterward prove true. At a late hour the company began to disperse, Miss Warner keeping a watchful eye upon her pupils, lest some lawless collegiate should relieve her from the trouble of seeing them safely home. This perpendicular maiden had lived forty years on this mundane sphere without ever having had an offer, and she had come to think of gentlemen as a race of intruding bipeds which the world would be much better without. However, if there were any of the species which she could tolerate, it was Judge Fulton and Robert Stanton. The former she liked, because everybody liked him, and said he was a "nice man, and what everybody said must be true." Her partiality for the latter arose from the fact that he had several times complimented her fine figure and dignified manners; so when he that night asked the privilege of walking home with Nellie, she raised no very strong opposition, but yielded the point by merely saying something about "child's play." She, however, kept near enough to them to hear every word of their conversation; but they consoled themselves by thinking that the wide-open ears could not penetrate the recesses of their well-filled letters which they saw in the future.

In a few days Stanton and Raymond started for Kentucky. The evening before they left was spent by Stanton in Nellie's company. Mrs. Fulton had invited her to pass the night with her, as the Judge was absent from home. About ten o'clock Mrs. Fulton very considerately grew sleepy, and retired to her own room. But long after the town clock rang out the hour of midnight, a light might have been seen gleaming from the windows of Judge Fulton's sitting room, in which sat Robert and Nellie, repeating for the hundredth time vows of eternal constancy.

The next morning when the last rumbling sound of the eastern train died away in the streets of Geneva, Nellie Ashton sat weeping in her little room at the seminary. She felt that now she was again alone in the wide, wide world. Eight years before she had in the short space of three weeks followed both father and mother to their last resting place, and upon their newly-made graves she had prayed the orphan's [pg 076] prayer, that God would protect one who was without father, mother, brother or sister in the world.

The little property of her father was sold for the payment of his debts, and Nellie, who was then but twelve years old, was obliged to labor both early and late for her daily bread. Her father had lived near the city of New York, and not long after his death she procured a situation in a wealthy family of that city. She was called "the girl to do chores," which meant that she was kept running from garret to cellar, from parlor to kitchen, first here and then there, from earliest dawn to latest evening. It was almost always eleven o'clock before she could steal away to her low bed in the dark garret, and often, in the loneliness of the night, would the desolate child pray that the God with whom her parents dwelt would look in pity upon the helpless orphan.

Ere long her prayer was answered, for there came to the house where she lived a gentleman and lady, who saw the "little kitchen girl." Something there was in her sad but intelligent face which attracted their notice, and they inquired her history of Mrs. Stanley, the lady with whom she lived.

"She is," said Mrs. Stanley, "a good enough girl, if she would only let books alone; but she seems to have a passion for study, quite unsuitable for one in her station. When she is cleaning the knives she will have a book before her; and instead of singing the baby to sleep, she will get down and read to her, or repeat something which she has learned."

"And has she no relatives?" asked the gentleman.

"None living that I know of," said Mrs. Stanley; and then she added, "Nellie says she had a brother who was several years older than herself, and that three years ago he was one morning missing, and they found on his table a letter, saying that he had gone to sea on a whaling voyage, and would be gone three years. Her father afterward heard that the vessel in which his son sailed was supposed to be lost with all its crew. This is her story; but you can never tell how much to believe of the stories which such girls tell."

"Did you ever detect her in a falsehood?" asked the gentleman.