The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 01, No. 02, December, 1857: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and PoliticsVarious
History
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 01, No. 02, December, 1857: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
Various
American periodicals
After our little guest was asleep at night, I could restrain myself no
longer. "You are treating me shabbily, aunty," said I. "See if I am
ever a good girl again to please you!"
"You shall know it all, Katy; I only wished to think it over first by
myself. There, take the letter; but make no note or comment till I
mention it again."
* * * * *
The letter of Cousin Harry seemed to me rather matter-of-fact, I must
confess, till near the end, where he spoke of a little nosegay which
he enclosed, and which would speak to her of dear old times.
"But where is the nosegay, aunty?"
With a beautiful flush, as if the sunset of that vanished day were
reddening the sky of memory, she drew a small packet from her bosom,
and in it I found a withered rose-bud tied up with a shrivelled sprig
of mignonette.
I am afraid that my Aunt Linny's answer was a great deal more proper
than I should have wished; and yet, with all its emphatic expressions
of duty towards her father and the impossibility of leaving him, there
must have been something between the lines which I could not read. I
have since discovered that all such epistles have their real meaning
concealed in some kind of more rarefied sympathetic ink, which betrays
itself only under the burning hands of a lover.
"So, then," said Aunt Linny, as she was sealing this letter, "you see,
Katy, that your romance has come to an untimely end."
I turned round her averted face with both my hands, and looked in her
eyes till she blushed and laughed in spite of herself.
"My knowledge of symptoms is not large," said I, "but I have a
conviction that his health will now endure a northern climate."
"Let's talk no more of this!" said she, putting me aside with a gentle
gravity, which checked my nonsense. But as I was unable to detect in
her, on this or the following day, the slightest depression of
spirits, I shrewdly guessed that our anticipations of the result were
not very dissimilar.
The next return post brought, not the expected letter, but our hero
himself. I was really amazed at the change in his appearance. Erect,
elastic, his face radiant with expression, he looked years younger
than at his first arrival. I caught Aunt Linny's eloquent glance of
surprise and pleasure as they met. For a moment the bridal pair of my
dream stood living before me; then vanished even more suddenly than
that fancy show of the old magician. When we again met, two or three
hours after, my aunt's serene smile and dewy eyes told me that all was
right.
* * * * *
In a month the wedding took place, and the "happy pair" started off on
a few weeks' excursion. As I was helping my aunt exchange her bridal
for her travelling attire, I whispered, "What say you to my doctrine
of first love, aunty?"
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