A Modern Cinderella. [The Atlantic monthly. / Volume 6, Issue 36, October 1860]

A MODERN CINDERELLA:OR, THE LI TTLE OLD SHOE.HOW IT WAS LOST. AMONG green New England hills stoodan ancient house, many-gabled, mossy-roofed, and quaintly built, but pictu-resque and pleasant to the eye for ahrook ran babbling through the orchardthat encompassed it ahout, a garden-plotstretched upward to the whispering birch-es on the slope, and patriarchal elms stoodsentinel upon the lawn, as they had stoodalmost a century ago, when the Revolu-tion rolled that way and found themyoung. One summer morning, when the airwas full of country sounds, of mowers inthe meadow, blackbirds hy the hrook,and the low of kine upon the hill-side,the old house wore its cheeriest aspect,and a certain humble history be~an.Nan! Yes, Di. And a head, brown-locked, hlue-eyed,soft-featured, looked in at the open doorin answer to the call. Just bring me the third volume ofWilhelm Meister, theres a dear. Itshardly worth while to rouse such a rest-less ghost as I, when Im once fairly laid. As she spoke, Di pushed up her blackbraids, thumped the pillow of the couchwhere she was lying, and with eager eyeswent down the last page of her hook.Nan Yes, Laura, replied the girl, com-ing hack with the third volume for theliterary cormorant, who took it with anod, still too intent upon the Confessionsof a Fair Saint to remember the fail-ings of a certain plain sinner. Dont forget the Italian cream fordinner. I depend upon it for its theonly thing fit for me this hot weather. And Laura, the cool blonde, disposedthe folds of her white gown more grace-fully about her, and touched up the eye-brow of the Minerva she was drawing. Little daughter! Yes, father. Let me have plenty of clean collarsin my bag, for I must go at three andsome of you bring me a glass of cider inabout an hour I shall be in the lowergarden. The old man went away into his imag-inary paradise, and Nan into that domes-tic purgatory on a summer day, thekitchen. There were vines about thewindows, sunshine on the floor, and or-der everywhere but it was haunted bya cookino~-stove, that family altar whencesuch varied incense rises to appease theappetite of household go(ls, before whichsuch dire incantations are pronounced toease the wrath and woe of the priestessof the fire, and about which often lingersaddest memories of wasted temper, time,and toil.

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 426 A Jiliodern (Jtnderelta. [October, iNan was tired, having risen with thebirdshurried, having many cares thosehappy little housewives never know,anddisappointed in a hope that hourly dwin-dled, peaked, and pined. She was tooyoung to make the anxious lines upon herforeh~ad seem at home there, too patientto be hurdened with the labor othersshould have shared, too light of heart tobe pent up when earth and sky werekeeping a blithe holiday. But she wasone of that meek sisterhood who, think-ing humbly of themselves, believe theyare honored by being spent in the ser-vice of less conscientious souls, whose care-less thanks seem quite reward enough. To and fro she went, silent and dili-gent, giving the grace of willingness toevery humble or distasteful task the dayhad hrought her; but some malPrnantsprite seemed to have taken possessionof her kingdom, for rebellion broke outeverywhere. The kettles would boil overmost obstreperously,the mutton refusedto cook with the meek alacrity to he ex-pected from the nature of a sheep, thestove, with unnecessary warmth of tem-per, would glow like a fiery furnace,the irons would .scorch,the linens woulddry, and spirits would fail, though pa-tience never. Nan tugged on, growing hotter andwearier, more hurried and more hopeless,till at last the crisis came; for in one fellmoment she tore her gown, burnt herhand, and smutched the collar she waspreparing to finish in the m& st unexcep-tionable style. Then, if she had been anervous woman, she would have scoldedbeing a gentle girl, she only lifted upher voice and wept. Behold, she watereth her linen withsalt tears, and bewaileth herself becauseof much tribulation. But, lo! help corn-eth from afar: a strong man bringethlettuce wherewith to stay her, pluckethberries to comfort her withal, and clash-eth cymbals that she may dance forjoy. The voice came from the porch, and,with her hope fulfilled, Nan looked up togreet John Lord, the house-friend, whostood there with a basket on his armand as she saw his honest eyes, kind lips,and helpful hands, the girl thought this

plain young man the comeliest, most webcome sight she had beheld that day. How good of you, to come throughall this heat, and not t.o laugh at my de-spair! she said, looking up like a grate-ful child, as she led hini in. I only obeyed orders, Nan; for acertain dear 01(1 lady had a motherlypresentimeiit that you had got into a do-mestiC whirlpool, and sent me as a sort oflife-preserver. So I took the basket ofconsolation, and came to fold niy feet up-on the carpet of contentment in the tentof friendship. As he spoke, John gave his own giftin his mothers name, and bestowed him-self in the wide window-seat, where morn-ing-glories nodded at him, and the oldbutternut sent pleasant shadows dancingto and fro. His advent, like that of Orpheus inHades, seemed to soothe all unpropitiouspowers with a sudden spell. The firebegan to slacken, the kettles began tolull, the meat began to cook, the ironsbegan to cool, the clothes began to be-have, the spirits began to rise, and thecollar was finished off with most triumph-ant success. John watched the change,and thou~h a lord of creation, abasedhiniself to take compassion on the weak-er vessel, and was seized with a great de-sire to lighten the homely tasks that triedher strength of body and soul. He tooka comprehensive glance about the roomthen, extracting a dish from the closet,proceeded to imbrue his hands in thestrawberries blood. Oh, John, you neednt do that; Ishall have time when Ive turned themeat, made the pudding, and done thesethings. See, im getting on finely nowyoure a judge of such matters; isntthat nice ? As she spoke, Nan offered the polishedabsurdity for inspection with innocentpride. Oh that I were a collar, to sit uponthat hand!~ sighed John, adding, ar

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 1860.1 A Modern Ginderella. 427

gumentatively, As to the berry ques-

tion, I might answer it with a gem fromDr. Watts, relative to Satan and idlebands, but will merely say, that, as amatter of public safety, youd better leaveme alone; for such is the destructivenessof my nature, that I shall certainly eatsomething hurtful, break something val-uable, or sit upon something crushable,unless you let me concentrate my ener-gies by knocking off these young fel-lows hats, and preparing them for theirdoom. Looking at the matter in a charitablelight, Nan consented, and went cheerful-ly on with her work, wondering how shecould have thought ironing an infliction,and been so ungrateful for the blessingsof her lot. Wheres Sally? asked John, look-ing vainly for the energetic functionarywho usually pervaded that region like adomestic police-woman, a terror to cats,dogs, an(l men. She has gone to her cousins funeral,and wont be back till Monday. Thereseems to be a great fatality among herrelations; for one dies, or comes to griefin some way, about once a month. ButI dont blame poor Sally for wanting toget away from this place now and then.I think I could find it in my heart tomurder an imaginary friend or two, if Ihad to stay here long. And Nan laughed so blithely, it was apleasure to hear her. Wheres Di? asked John, seizedwith a most unmasculine curiosity all atonce. She is in Germany with WilhelmMeister; but though lost to si~ ht, tomemory (lear; fbr I was just thinking,as I did her things, how clever she isto like all kinds of books that I dont un-derstand at all, and to write things thatmake me cry with pride and delight.Yes, shes a talented dear, though shehardly knows a needle from a crowbar,and will make herself one great blotsome of these days, when the divineafflatus descends upon her, Im afraid. And Nan rubbed away with sisterlyzeal at Dis forlorn hose and inky pock-et-handkerchiefs. Where is Laura? proceeded the in-quisitor. Well, I might say that she was in

Italy; for she is copying some fine thingof Raphaels, or Michel Angelos, or somegreat creatures or other; and she looks sopicturesque in her pretty gown, sittinbefore her easel, that it s really a sightto behold, and Ive peeped two or threetimes to see how she gcts on. And Nan bestirred herself to preparethe dish wherewith her picturesque sisterdesired to prolong her artistic existence. Where is your father? John askedagain, checking off each answer with anod and a little frown. He is down in the garden, deep insome plan about melons, the beginningof which seems to consist in stamping thefirst proposition in Euclid all over thebed, and then poking a few seeds intothe middle of each. Why, bless the dearman! I forgot it was time for the cider.Wouldnt you like to take it to him,John? Hed love to consult you; andthe lane is so cool, it does ones heart goodto look at it.John glanced from the steamy kitchento the shadowy path, and answered witha sudden assumption of immense indus-try,I couldnt possibly go, Nan, Ive somuch on my hands. Youll have to doit yourself. Mr. Robert of Lincoln hassomething for your private ear; and thelane is so cool, it will do ones heart goodto see you in it. Give my reards. toyour father, and, in the words of LittleMabels mother, with slight variations,Tell the dear old bodyThis day I cannot runFor the pots are boiling overAnd the mutton isnt done.

 I will; but please, J9hn, go in to thegirls and be comfortable; for I dont liketo leave you here, said Nan. You insinuate that I should pick atthe pudding or invade the cream, doyou? Ungrateful girl, leave me! And,with melodramatic sternness, John extin

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 428 A Modern Cinderella. [October,

guished her in his broad-brimmed hat,and offered the glass like a poisoned

goblet.Nan took it, and went smiling away.But the lane mi,ht have been the Desertof Sahara, for all she knew of it; and shewould have passed her father as uncon-cernedly as if he had been an apple-tree,had he not called out,Stand and deliver, little woman! She obeyed the venerable highway-man, and followed him to and fro, listen-in,~ to his plans and directions with amute attention that quite won his heart. That hop-pole is really an ornamentnow, Nan; this sage-bed needs weeding,thats good work for you girls and,now I think of it, youd better water thelettuce in the cool of the evening, afterIm gone. To all of which remarks Nan gave herassent; though the hop-pole took the like-ness of a tall figure she had seen in theporch, the sage-bed, curiously enough,suggested a strawberry ditto, the lettucevividly reminded her of certain vege-table productions a basket had brought,and the bob-o-link only sung in his cheer-iest voice, Go home ,go home! he isthere! She found John he having made afreemason of himself, by assuming her lit-tle apron meditating over the partiallyspread table, lost in amaze at its desolateappearance; one half its proper parapher-nalia having been forgotten, and the otherhalf put on awry. Nan laughed till thetears ran over her cheeks, and John wasgratified at the efficacy of his treatment;for her face had brought a whole harvestof sunshine from the garden, and all hercares seemed to have been lost in ~hewindings of the lane. Nan, are you in hysterics? cried Di,appearing, book in hand. John, youabsurd man, what are you doing? Im helpin the maid of all work,please marm. And John dropped acurtsy with his limited apron. Di looked ruffled, for the merry wordswere a covert reproach; and with herusual energy of manner and freedom ofspeech she tossed Wilhelm out of thewindow, exclaiming, irefully, Thats always the way; Im neverwhere I ought to be, and never think ofanything till its too late; but its allGoethes fault. What does he write

books full of smart Phillinas and inter-esting Meisters for? How can I beexpected to remember that Sally s away,and people must eat, when Im hearingthe Harper and little Mignon? John,how dare you come here and do my work,instead of shaking me and telling me todo it myself? Take that toasted childaway, and fan her like a Chinese man-darin, while I dish up this dreadful din-ner. John and Nan fled like chaff beforethe wind, while Di, full of remorsefulzeal, charged at the kettles, and wrench-ed off the potatoes jackets, as if she wererevengefully pulling her own hair. Laurahad a vague intention of going to assistbut, getting lost among the lights andshadows of Minervas helmet, forgot toappear till dinner had been evoked fromchaos and peace was restored. At three oclock, Di performed the cor-onation-ceremony with her fathers besthat; Laura re-tied his old-fashioned neck-cloth, and arran,~ ed his white locks withan eye to saintly effect; Nan appearedwith a beautifully written sermon, andsuspicious ink-stains on the fingers thatslipped it into his pocket; John attachedhimself to the bag; and the patriarch wasescorted to the door of his tent with thetriumphal procession which usually at-tended his out-goings and in-comings.having kissed the female portion of histribe, he ascended the venerable chariot,which received him with audible lamen-tation, as its rheumatic joints swayed toand fro. Good-bye, my dears! I shall be backearly on Monday morning; s~ take careof yourselves, and he sure you all go andhear Mr. Emerboy preach to-morrow. Myregards to your mother, John. Come,Solon! But Solon merely cocked one ear, andremained a fixed fact for long experi

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 1860.1 A Modern Cinderella. 429

ence had induced the philosophic heastto take for his motto the Yankee maxim,Be sure youre right, then go ahead!He knew things were not right therefore

he did not go ahead. Oh, hy-the-way, girls, dont forget topay Tommy Mullein for bringing up thecow: he expects it to-night. And, Di,dont sit up till daylight, nor let Laurastay out in the dew. Now, I believe,Im off. Come, Solon! But Solon only cocked the other ear,gently agitated his mortified tail, as pre-monitory symptoms of departure, andnever stirred a hoof, heing well awarethat it always took three comes tomake a go. Bless me! Ive forgotten my spec-tacles. They are probably shut up inthat volume of Herbert on my table.Very awkward to find myself withoutthem ten miles away. Thank you, John.Dont neglect to water the lettuce, Nan,and dont overwork yourself, my littleMartha. Come 2 At this juncture, Solon suddenly wentoff, like Mrs. Gamp, in a sort of walk-ing swoon, apparently deaf and blind toall mundane matters, except the refresh-ments awaiting him ten miles away; andthe benign old pastor disappeared, hum-ming Hebron to the creaking accom-paniment of the bulgy chaise. Laura retired to take her siesta; Nanmade a small carboaaro of herself bysharpening her sisters crayons, and Di,as a sort of penance for past sins, triedher patience over a piece of knitting, inwhich she soon originated a somewhatremarkable pattern, by droppin,, everythird stitch, and seaming ad libitum. IfJohn had been a gentlemanly creature,with refined tastes, he would have elevat-ed his feet and made a nuisance of him-self hy indulging in a weed; hut be-ing only an uncultivated youth, with arustic regard for~ pure air and woman-kind in general, he kept his head upper-most, and talked like a man, instead ofsmoking like a chimney. It will probably he six months beforeI sit here again, tangling your threadsand maltreating your needles, Nan. howglad you must feel to hear it ! he said,looking up from a thoughtful examinationof the hard-working little citizens of theIndustrial Community settled in Nanswork-hasket. No, Im very sorry; for I like to seeyou coming and going as you used to,

years ago, and I miss you very muchwhen you are gone, John, answeredtruthful Nan, whittling away in a sadlywasteful manner, as her thoughts flewback to the happy times when a littlelad rode a little lass in the hig wheel-barrow, and never spiit his load,whentwo brown heads bobbed daily side hyside to school, and the favorite play wasBabes in the Wood, with Di for asomewhat peckish robin to cover thesmall martyrs with any vegetable sub-stance that lay at hand. Nan sighed, asshe thought of these things, and John re-garded the battered thimble on his finger-tip with increased benignity of aspect ashe heard the sound. When are you going to make yourfortune, John, and get out of that dis-agreeable hardware concern? demand-ed Di, pausing after an exciting round,and looking almost as much exhausted asif it had heen a veritable pugilistic en-counter.I intend to make it by plunging stilldeeper into that disagreeable hardwareconcern; for, next year, if the worldkeeps rolling, and John Lord is alive, hewill hecome a partner, and then andthen The color sprang up into the youngmans cheek, his eyes looked out with asudden shine, and his hand seemed invol-untarily to close, as if he saw and seizedsome invisible delight. What will happen then, John? ask-ed Nan, with a wondering glance. Ill tell you in a year, Nan,wait tillthen. And Johns stron~ hand unclosed,as if the desired good were not to he hisyet. Di looked at him, with a knitting-nee-dle stuck into her hair, saying, like a sar-castic unicorn,

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 430 A I~fodern Cinderella. [October,

 I really thought you had a soul abovepots and kettles, but I see you havent;and I beg your pardon for the injustice Ihave done you.Not a whit disturbed, John smiled, asif at some mighty pleasant fancy of his

own, as be replie(l, Thank you, Di; and as a furtherproof of the utter depravity of my na-ture, let me tell you that I have the great-est possible respect for those articles ofironmongery. Some of the happiest hoursof my life have been spent in their soci-ety; some of my pleasantest associationsare connected with them; some of mybest lessons have come to me from amongthem; and when my fortune is made, Iintend to show my gratitude by takingthree flat-irons rampant for my coat ofarms.Nan laughed merrily, as she looked atthe burns on her hand; but Di elevatedthe most prominent feature of her browncountenance, and sighed despondingly, Dear, dear, what a disappointingworld this is! I no sooner build a nicecastle in Spain, and settle a smart youngknight therein, than down it comes aboutmy ears; and the ungrateful youth, whomight fight dragons, if he chose, insists onquenching his energies in a saucepan, andmaking a Saint Lawrence of himself bywasting his life on a series of cridirons.Ab, if I were only a man, I would dosomething better than that, and provethat heroes are not all dead yet. But, in-stead of that, im only a woman, and mustsit rasping my temper with absurditieslike this. And Di wrestled with herknitting as if it were Fate, and she werepaying off the gru(lge she owed it. John leaned toward her, saying, witha look that made his plain face hand-some, Di, my father began the world as Ibegin it, and left it the richer for the use-ful years he spent here, as I hope I mayleave it some half-century hence. Hismemory makes that dingy shop a pleasantplace to me; for there he made an honestname, led an honest life, and bequeath-ed. to me his reverence for honest work.That is a sort of hardware, Di, that norust can corrupt, and which will alwaysprove a better fortune than any yourknights can achieve with sword and shield.I think I am not quite a clod, or quitewithout some aspirations above money-getting; for I sincerely desire that couragewhich makes daily life heroic by self-de-nial and cheerfulness of heart; I am ea-ger to conquer my own rebellious nature,

and earn the confidence of innocent andup right souls; I have a great ambitionto become as good a man and leave asgreen a memory behind me as old JohnLord. Di winked violently, and seamed fivetimes in perfect silence; but quiet Nanhad the gift of knowing when to speak,and by a timely word saved her sisterfrom a thunder-shower and her stockingfrom destruction. John, have you seen Philip since youwrote about your last meeting with him? The question was for John, but thesoothing tone was for Di, who gratefullyaccepted it, and perked up again withspeed. Yes; and I meant to have told youabout it, answered John, plunging intothe subject at once. I saw him a fewdays before I came home, and found himmore disconsolate than ever, just readyto go to the Devil, as he forcibly express-ed himself. I consoled the poor lad as~vell as I could, telling him his wisest planwas to defer his proposed expedition, andgo on as steadily as he had begunthere-by proving the injustice of your fathersprediction concerning his want of perse-verance, and the sincerity of his affection.I told him the change in Lauras healthand spirits was silently working in hisfavor, and that a few more months ofpersistent endeavor would conquer yourfa.thers prejudice against him, and makehim a stronger man for the trial and thepain. I read him bits about Laura fromyour own and Dis letters, and he wentaway at last as patient as Jacob, ready toserve another seven years for his be-loved Rachel. God bless you for it, John ! cried a

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 1860.1 A lUiodern Cinderella.

fervent voice; and, looking up, they sawthe cold, listless Laura transformed intoa tender girl, all aglow with love andlonging, as she dropped her mask, andshowed a living countenance eloquentwith the first passion and softened bythe first grief of her life. John rose involuntarily in the presence

of an innocent nature whose sorrow need-ed no interpreter to him. The girl readsympathy in his brotherly regard, andfound comfort in the friendly voice thatasked, half playfully, half seriously,Shall I tell him that he is not forgot-ten, even for an Apollo? that Laura theartist has not conquered Laura the wom-an? and predict that the good daughterwill yet prove the happy wife ? With a gesture full of energy, Lauratore her Minerva from top to bottom,while two great tears rolled down thecheeks grown wan with hope deferred. Tell him I believe all things, ho1)Call things, and that I never can forget. Nan went to her and held her fast,leaving the prints of two loving, but gri-my hands upon her shoulders; Di lookedon approvingly, for, though rather stony-hearted regarding the cause, she fully ap-preciated the effect; and John, turningto the window, received the commenda-tions of a robin swaying on an elm-boughwith sunshine on its ruddy breast. The clock struck five, and John de-clared that he must go; for, being an old-fashioned soul, he fancied that his motherhad a better right to his last hour thanany youn,.,er woman in the land,al-ways remembering that she was a wid-ow, and he her only son. Nan ran away to wash her hands, andcame back with the appearance of onewho had washed her face also: and soshe had; but there was a difference inthe water. Play Im your father, girls, and re-member it will be six months before thatJohn will trouble you again. With which preface the young man kiss-ed his former playfellows as heartily as theboy had been wont to do, when stern par-eats banished him to distant schools, andthree little maids bemoaned his fate. Buttimes were changed now; for Di grewalarmingly rigid during the ceremony;Laura received the salute like a gratefulqueen; and Nan returned it with heartand eyes and tender lips, making such animprovement on the childish fashion ofthe thing, that John was moved to sup-port his paternal character by softly echo-in~ her fathers words, Take care ofyourself, my little Martha. Then they all streamed after him along

the garden-path,~vith the endless messagesand warnings girls are so prone to giveand the young man, with a great softnessat his heart, went away, as many anotherJohn has gone, feeling better for the com-panionship of innocent maidenhood, andstronger to wrestle with temptation, towait and hope and work. Lets throw a shoe after him for luck,as dear old Mrs. Gummage did afterDavid and the willin Barkis! Quick,Nan! you always have old shoes on; tossone, and shout, Good luck! cried Di,with one of her eccentric inspirations. Nan tore off her shoe, and threw it faralong the dusty road, with a sudden long-ing to become that auspicious article ofapparel, that the omen might not fail. Looking backward from the hill-top,John answered the meek shout cheerily,and took in the group with a lingeringglance: Laura in the shadow of the elms,Di perched on the fence, and Nan lean-ing far over the gate with her hand aboveher eyes and the sunshine touching herhrown hair with i~old. Tie waved his hatand turned away; but the music seemedto die out of the blackbirds song, and inall the summer landscape his eye sawnothing but the little figure at the gate. Bless and save us! heres a flock ofpeople coming; my hair is in a toss, andNans without her shoe; run! fly, girls!or the Philistines will be upon us! criedDi, tumbling off her perch in suddenalarm. Three agitated young ladies, with fly-ing draperies and countenances of min-gled mirth and dismay, might have beenseen precipitating themselves into a re

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 432 A Modern Cinderella. [October,

spectable mansion with unbecoming hastebut the squirrels were the only witnessesof this vision of sudden flight, and, be-ing used to ground-and-lofty tumbling,didnt mind it. When the pedestrians passed, the doorwas decorously closed, and no one visihiebut a young man, who snatched some-thing out of the road, and marched awayagain, whistling with more vigor of tone

than accuracy of tune, Only that, andnothing more.

110W IT WAS FOUND.

 SUMMER ripened into autumn, andsomething fairer than

Sweet-peas and mignonetteIn Annies garden grew.

Her nature was the counterpart of thehill-side grove, where as a child she hadread her fairy tales, and now as a wom-an turned the first pages of a more won-drous legend still. Lifted above the many-gable d roog yet not cut off from the echoof human speech, the little grove seemeda green sanctuary, fringed about withviolets, and full of summer melody andbloom. Gentle creatures haunted it, andthere was none to make afraid; wood-pigeons cooed and crickets chirped theirshrill roundelays, anemones and lady-ferns looked up from the moss that kissedthe wanderers feet. Warm airs were allafloat, full of vernal odors for the gratefulsense, silvery hirches shimmered like spir-its of the wood, larches gave their greentassels to the wind, and pines made airymusic sweet an(l solemn, as they stoodlooking heavenward through veils of sum-mer sunshine or shronds of wintry snow.Nan never felt alone now in this charm-ed wood; for when she came into its pre-cincts, once so full of solitude, all thingsseemed to wear one shape, familiar eyeslooked at her from the violets in the grass,familiar words sounded in the whisper ofthe leaves, and she grew conscious thatan unseen influence filled the air withnew delights, and touched earth and skywith a heauty never seen before. Slow-ly these May-flowers hudded in her maid-en heart, rosily they bloomed, and silent-ly they waited till some lover of such low-ly herhs should catch their fresh aroma,should hrush away the fallen leaves, andlift them to the sun. Though the eldest of the three, she hadlong heen overtopped by the more aspir-ing maids. But though she meekly yield-ed the reins of government, wheneverthey chose to drive, they were soon re-

stored to her again; for Di fell into liter-ature, and Laura into love. Thus en-grossed, these two forgot many dutieswhich even blue-stockings and innomora-tos are expected to perform, and slowlyall the homely humdrum cares that house-wives know hecame Nans daily life, andshe accepted it without a thought of dis-content. Noiseless and cheerful as thesunshine, she went to and fro, doing thetasks that mothers do, hut without a moth-ers sweet reward, holding fast the num-berless slight threads that hind a house-hold tenderly together, and making eachday a beautiful success. Di, being tired of running, riding,climbing, and boating, decided at last tolet her hody rest and put her equally ac-tive mind through what classical colle-gians term a course of sprouts. Hav-ing undertaken to read and know every-thing, she devoted herself to the task withgreat energy, going from Sue to Sweden-borg with perfect impartiality, and hav-ing different authors as children havesundry distempers, being fractious whilethey lasted, but all the better for themwhen once over. Carlyle appeared likescarlet-fever, and raged violently for atime; for, heing anything hut a passivebucket, Di became prophetic with Ma-homet, belligerent with Cromwell, andmade the French Revolution a yen-tahle Reign of Terror to her family.Goethe and Schiller alternated like fe-ver and ague; Mephistopheles becameher hero, Joan of Arc her model, andshe turned her hlack eyes red over Eg-mont and Wallenstein. A mild attackof Emerson followed, during which she

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was lost in a fog, and her sisters rejoicedinwardly when she emerged informingthem that

The Sphinx was drowsy,Her wings were furled.

 Poor Di was floundering slowly to herproper place; but she splashed up a gooddeal of foam by getting out of her depth,

and rather exhausted herself by trying todrink the ocean dry. Laura, after the midsummer nightsdream that often comes to girls of sev-enteen, woke up to find that youth andlove were no match for age and commonsense. Philip had been flying about theworld like a thistle-down for five-and-twenty years, generous - hearted, frank,and kind, hut with never an idea of theserious side of life in his handsome head.Great, therefore, were the wrath and dis-may of the enamored thistle-down, whenthe father of his love mildly objected toseeing her begin the world in a balloonwith a very tender but very inexperien-ced a~ronaut for a guide. Laura is too young to play houseyet, and you are too unstable to assumethe part of lord and master, Philip. Goand prove that you have prudence, pa-tience, energy, and enterprise, and I willgive you my girl, but not before. Imust seem cruel, that I may be trulykind; believe this, and let a little painlead you to great happiness, or showyou where you would have made a bitterblunder. The lovers listened, owned the truthof the old mans words, bewailed theirfate, andyielded, Laura for love ofher father, Philip for love of her. Hewent away to build a firm foundation forhis castle in the air, and Laura retiredinto an invisible convent, where she castoff the world, and regarded her sympa-thizing sisters through a grate of superiorknowledge and unsharable grief. Like adevout nun, she worshipped St. Philip,and firmly believed in his miraculous pow-ers. She fancied that her woes set herapart from common cares, and slowly fellinto a dreamy state, professing no inter VOL. VI. 28433

est in any mundane matter, but the artthat first attracted Philip. Crayons,bread - crusts, and gray paper becameglorified in Lauras eyes; and her onepleasure was to sit pale and still beforeher easel, day after day, filling her port-folios with the faces he had once admir-ed. Her sisters observed that every Bac-chus, Piping Faun, or Dying Gladiatorbore some likeness to a comely counte-

nance that heathen god or hero neverowned; and seeing this, they privatelyrejoiced that she had found such solacefor her grief. Mrs. Lords keen eye had read a cer-tain newly written page in her sonsheart,his first chapter of that romance,begun in Paradise, whose interest neverflags, whose beauty never fades, whoseend can never come till Love lies dead.With womanly skill she divined the se-cret, with motherly discretion she coun-selled patience, and her son accepted heradvice, feeling, that, like many a health-ful herb, its worth lay in its bitterness. Love like a man, John, not like aboy, and learn to know yourself beforeyou take a womans happiness into yourkeeping. You and Nan have knowneach other all your lives; yet, till thislast visit, you never thought you lovedher more than any other childish friend.It is too soon to say the words so oftenspoken hastily, so hard to be recall-ed. Go back to your work, dear, for an-other year; think of Nan in the light ofthis new hope; compare her with come-lier, gayer girls; and by absence provethe truth of your belief. Then, if dis-tance only makes her dearer, if time onlystrengthens your affection, and no doubtof your own worthiness disturbs you,come back and offer her what any womanshould be glad to take, my boys trueheart. John smiled at the motherly pride ofher words, but answered with a wistfullook. It seems very long to wait, mother.If I could just ask her for a word of hope,I could be very patient then. Ah, my dear, better bear one year ofA Modern Cgnderella.

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impatience now than a lifetime of regrethereafter. Nan is happy; why disturbher by a word which will bring the ten-der cares and troubles that come soonenough to such conscientious creatures asherself? If she loves you, time will proveit; therefore let the new affection spring

and ripen as your early friendship hasdone, and it will be all the stronger for asummers growth. Philip was rash, andhas to bear his trial now, and Laurashares it with him. Be more generous,John; make your trial, bear your doubtsalone, and give Nan the happiness with-out the pain. Promise me this, dear, promise me to hope and wait. The young mans eye kindled, and inhis heart there rose a better chivalry, atruer valor, than any Dis knights hadever known. Ill try, mother, was all he said; butshe was satisfied, for John seldom triedin vain.

 Oh, girls, how splendid you are! Itdoes my heart good to see my handsomesisters in their best array, cried Nan, onemild October night, as she put the lasttouches to certain airy raiment fashionedby her own skilful hands, and then fellback to survey the grand effect. Di and Laura were preparing to assistat an event of the season, and Nan,with her own locks fallen on her shoul-aers, for want of sundry combs promotedto her sisters heads, and her dress in un-wonted disorder, for lack of the manypins extracted in exciting crises of thetoilet, hovered like an affectionate beeohout two very full-blown flowers. Laura looks like a cool Undine, withthe ivy-wreaths in her shinin~ hair; andDi has illuminated herself to such an ex-tent .with those scarlet leaves, that I dontknow what great creature she resemblesmost said Nan, beaming with sisterly ad-miration. Like Juno, Zenobia, and Cleopatrasimmered into one, with a touch of Xan-tippe by way of spice. But, to my eye,the finest woman of the three is the dis-hevelled young person embracing thebed-post; for she stays at home herself,and gives her time and taste to makinghomely people fine, which is a wasteof good material, and an imposition onthe public. As Di spoke, both the fashion-plateslooked affectionately at the gray-gownedfi~ ure; but, being works of art, they wereobliged to nip their feelings in the bud,and reserve their caresses till they re-turned to common life.

 Put on your bonnet, and well leaveyou at Mrs. Lords on our way. It willdo you good, Nan; and perhaps theremay be news from John, added Di, asshe bore down upon the door like a man-of-war under full sail. Or from Philip, sighed Laura, witha wistful look. Whereupon Nan persuaded herself thather stron~ inclination to sit down was ow-ing to want of exercise, and the heavinessof her eyelids a freak of imagination; so,speedily smoothiug her ruffled plumage,she ran down to tell her father of thenew arrangement. Go, my dear, by all means. I shallbe writing; and you will be lonely, ifyou stay. But I must see my girls; forI caught glimpses of certain surprisingphantoms flitting by the door.Nan led the way, and the two pyra-mids revolved before him with the rigid-ity of lay-figures, much to the good mansedification; for with his fatherly pleasurethere was nmingled much mild wOn(ler-ment at the amplitude of array. Yes, I see my geese are really swans,though there is such a cloud between usthat I feel a long way oil; and hardlyknow them. But this little daughter isalways available, always my cricket onthe hearth. As be spoke, her father drew Nancloser, kissed her tranquil face, and smil-ed content. Well, if ever I see picters, I see emnow, and I declare to goodness its asinterestin as play-actin, every bit. MissDi, with all them boughs in her head,looks like the Queen of Sheby, whenshe went a-visitin Whats-his-name; and

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 1860.] A Modern Cinderella.4345if Miss Laura ant as sweet as a lally-barster figger, I should like to know whatis. In her enthusiasm, Sally gambolledabout the girls, flourishing her milk-panlike a modern Miriam about to soundher timbrel for excess of joy. Laughing merrily, the two Mont Blanesbestowed themselves in the family ark,

Nan hopped up beside Patrick, and So-lon, roused from his lawful slumbers, mo-rosely trundled them away. But, lookingbackward with a last Good night! Nansaw her father still standing at the doorwith smiling countenance, and the moon-light fallin0 like a benediction on hissilver hair.

 Betsey shall go up the hill with you,my dear, and heres a basket of eggs foryour father. Give him my love, and besure you let me know the next time he ispoorly, Mrs. Lord said, when her guestrose to depart, after an hour of pleasantchat. But Nan never got the gift; for, to hergreat dismay, her hostess dropped thebasket with a crash, and flew across theroom to meet a tall shape pausing in theshadow of the door. There was no needto ask who the new-coiner was; for, evenin his mothers arms, John looked overher shoulder with an eager nod to Nan,who stood among the ruins with never asign of weariness in her face, nor thememory of a care at her heart, for theyall went out when John came in. Now tell us how and why and whenyou came. Take off your coat, my dear!And here are the old slippers. Whydidnt you let us know you were comingso soon? How have you been? andwhat makes you so late to-ni~,ht? Bet-sey, you neednt put on your bonnet.And oh, my dear boy, have you beento supper yet? Mrs. Lord was a quiet soul, and herflood of questions was purred softly inher sons ear; for, being a woman, shemust talk, and, being a mother, must petthe one delight of her life, and make alittle festival when the lord of the manorcame home. A whole drove of fattedcalves were metaphorically killed, and abanquet appeared with speed. John was not one of those romanticheroes who can go through three vol-nines of hairbreadth escapes without thefaintest hint of that blessed institution,dinner; therefore, like Lady Leather-bridge, he partook copiously of every-thing, while the two women beamed overeach mouthful with an interest that en-hanced its flavor, and urged upon himcold meat and cheese, pickles and pie, as

if dyspepsia and nightmare were amongthe lost arts. Then he opened his budget of newsand fed them. 1 was coming next month, accordingto custom; but Philip fell upon and sotempted me, that I was driven to sacri-fice myself to the cause of friendship, andup we came to-ni~,ht. He would not letme come here till we bad seen your fa-ther, Nan; for the poor lad was piningfor Laura, and hoped his good beha-vior for the past year would satisfy hisjudge and secure his recall. We had afine talk with your father; and, upon mylife, Phil seemed to have received the giftof tongues, for he made a most eloquentplea, which Ive stored away for futureuse, I assure you. The dear old gentle-man was very kind, told Phil he was sat-isfied with the success of his probation,that he should see Laura when he liked,and, if all went well, should receive hisrewar(I in the spring. It must he a de-lightful sensation to know you have madea fellow-creature as happy as those wordsmade Phil to-night. John paused, and looked musingly atthe matronly tea-pot, as if he saw a won-drous future in its shine. Nan twinkled off the drops that roseat the thought of Lauras joy, and said,with grateful warmth, You say nothing of your own sharein the making of that happiness, Johnbut we know it, for Philip has told Laurain his letters all that you have been tohim, and I am sure there was other elo-quence beside his own before father grant-

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ed all you say he has. Oh, John, Ithank you very much for this! Mrs. Lord beamed a whole midsummerof delight upon her son, as she saw thepleasure these words gave him, though heanswered simply, I only tried to be a brother to him,Nan; for he has been most kind to me.Yes, I said my little say to-night, andgave my testimony in behalf of the pris-oner at the bar, a most merciful jud,~e

pronounced his sentence, and he rushedstraight to Mrs. Leighs to tell Laura theblissful news. Just imagine the scenewhen he appears, and how iDi will opeuher wicked eyes and enjoy the spectacleof the dishevelled lover, the bride-electstears, the stir, and the romance of thething. Shell cry over it to-night, andcaricature it to-morrow. And John led the laugh at the picturehe had conjured up, to turn the thoughtsof Dis dangerous sister from himself. At ten Nan retired into the depths ofher old bonnet with a far different facefrom the one she brought out of it, andJohn, resuming his hat, mounted guard. Dont stay late, remember, John!And in Mrs. Lords voice there was a warn-ing tone that her son interpreted aright. Ill not forget, mother. And he kept his word; for though Phil-ips happiness floated temptingly beforehim, and the little figure at his side hadnever seemed so dear, he ignored thebland winds, the tender night, and set aseal upon his lips, thinking manfully with-in himself; I see many signs of promisein her happy face; but I will wait andhope a little longer for her sake.

 Where is father, Sally? asked Nan,as that functionary appeared, blinkingowlishly, but utterly repudiating the ideaof sleep. He went down the garding, miss,when the gentlemen cleared, hem a littleflustered by the goins on. Shall I fetchhim in? asked Sally, as irreverently asif her master were a bag of meal. No, we will go ourselves. And slowlythe two paced down the leaf-strewn walk. Fields of yellow grain were waving onthe hill-side, and sere corn-blades rustledin the wind, from the orchard came thescent of ripening fruit, and all the garden-plots lay ready to yield up their humbleofferings to their masters hand. But inthe silence of the night a greater Reaperhad passed by, gathering in the harvestof a righteous life, and leaving only ten-der memories for the gleaners who hadcome so late. The old man sat in the shadow of thetree his own hands planted; its fruitfulboughs shone ruddily, and its leaves stillwhispered the low lullaby that hushed

him to his rest. How fast he sleeps! Poor father!I should have come before and made itpleasant for him. As she spoke, Nan lifted up the headbent down upon his breast, and kissedhis pallid cheek.Oh, John, this is not sleep ! Yes, dear, the happiest he will everknow. For a moment the shadows flickeredover three white faces and the silencedeepened solemnly. Then John rever-ently bore the pale shape in, and Nandropped down beside it, saying, with arain of grateful tears, He kissed me when I went, and saida last good night For an hour steps went to and fro abouther, many voices whispered near her, andskilful bands touched the beloved clay sheheld so fast; but one by one the busy feetpassed out, one by one the voices diedaway, and human skill proved vain. ThenMrs. Lord drew the orphan to the shelterof her arms, soothing her with the mutesolace of that motherly embrace.

 Nan, Nan! heres Philip! come andsee The happy call rei~choed through thehouse, and Nan spran0 up as if her timefor grief were past. I must tell them. Oh, my poor girls,how will they bear it ?they have knownso little sorrow! But there was no need for her to speak;

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 1860.3 A iUiodern Ci~nderella. 437

other lips had spared her th~ hard task.For, as she stirred to meet them, a sharpcry rent the air, steps rang upon thestairs, and two wild-eyed creatures cameinto the hush of that familiar room, forthe first time meeting with no welcomefrom their fathers voice. ~Tit,h one impulse, Di and Laura fledto Nan, and the sisters clung together ina silent embrace, far more eloquent thanwords. John took his mother by thehand, and led her from the room, closingthe door upon the sacredness of grief.

 Yes, we are poorer than we thought;hut when everything is settled, we shallget on very well. We can let a part ofthis great house, and live quietly togeth-er until spring; then Laura will be mar-ned, and Di can go on their travels withthem, as Philip wishes her to do. We shallbe cared for; so never fear for us, John. Nan said this, as her friend parted fromher a week later, after the saddest holi-day he had ever known. And what becomes of you, Nan?he asked, watching the patient eyes thatsmiled when others would have wept. I shall stay in the dear old house;for no other place would seem like hometo me. I shall find some little child tolove and care for, and be quite happy till.the girls come back and want me. John nodded wisely, as he listened, andwent away prophesying within himselgShe shall find something more than achild to love; and, God willing, shall bevery happy till the girls come home andcannot have her. Nans plan was carried into effect.Slowly the divided waters closed again,and the three fell back into their old life.But the touch of sorrow drew them clos-er; and, though invisible, a beloved pres-ence still moved among them, a familiarvoice still spoke to them in the silence oftheir softened hearts. Thus the soil wasmade ready, and in the depth of winterthe good seed was sown, was watered withmany tears, and soon sprang up greenwith the promise of a harvest for theirafter years. Di and Laura consoled themselves withtheir favorite employments, unconsciousthat Nan was growing paler, thinner, andmore silent, as the weeks went by, till oneday she dropped quietly before them, andit suddenly became manifest that she wasutterly worn out with many cares andthe secret suffering of a tender heart be-reft of the paternal love which had beenits strength and stay. Im only tired, dear girls. Dont betroubled, for I shall be up to-morrow,she said cheerily, as she looked into theanxious faces bending over her. But the weariness was of many monthsgrowth, and it was weeks before that to-morrow came.

 Laura installed herself as nurse, andher devotion was repaid four-fold; for,sitting at her sisters bedside, she learneda finer art than that she had left. Hereye grew clear to see the beauty of aseW-denying life, and in the depths ofINans meek nature she found the strong,sweet virtues that made her what shewas. Then remembering that these womanlyattributes were a brides best dowry, Lau-ra gave herself to their attainment, thatshe might become to another householdthe blessing Nan had been to her own;and turning from the worship of the god-dess Beauty, she gave her hand to thathumbler and more human teacher, Duty,learning her lessons with a willingheart, for Philips sake. Di corked her inkstand, locked herbookcase, and went at housework as ifit were a five-barred gate; of course shemissed the leap, but scrambled bravelythrough, and appeared much soboa~ed bythe exercise. Sally had departed to situnder a vine and fig-tree of her own, soDi had undisputed sway; but if dish-pansand dusters had tongues, direful wouldhave, been the history of that crusadeagainst frost and fire, indolence and in-experience. But they were dumb, andDi scorned to complain, though her strug-gles were pathetic to behold, and her sis-ters went through a series of messes equalto a course of Prince Benreddins pep-

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 438 A Modern ~/gnderella. [October,

pery tarts. Reality turned Romance outof doors; for, unlike her favorite heroinesin satin and tears, or helmet and shield,Di met her fate in a big checked apronand dust-cap, wonderful to see; yet shewielded her broom as stoutly as MollPitcher shouldered her gun, and march-ed to her daily martyrdom in the kitchenwith as heroic a heart as the Maid ofOrleans took to her stake. Mind won the victory over matter inthe end, and Di was better all her daysfor the tribulations and the triumphs ofthat time; for she drowned her idle fan-cies in her wash-tub, made burnt-offerings

of selfishness and pride, and learned theworth of self-denial, as she sang with hap-py voice among the pots and kettles ofher conquered realm. Nan thought of John, and in the still-ness of her sleepless nights prayed Ileav-en to keep him safe, and make her wor-thy to receive and strong enough to bearthe blessedness or pain of love. Snow fell without, and keen winds howl-ed among the leafless elms, but herbs ofgrace were blooming beautifully in thesunshine of sincere endeavor, and thisdreariest season proved the most fruitfulof the year; for love taught Laura, laborchastened Di, and patience fitted Nan forthe blessing of her life. Nature, that stillest, yet most diligentof housewives, began at last that spring-cleanincr which she makes so pleasantthat none find the heart to grumble asthey do when other matrons set theirpremises a-dust. Her haudmaids, windand rain and sun, swept, washed, andgarnished busily, green carpets wereunroll~l, apple-boughs were hung withdraperies of bloom, and dandelions, petnurslings of the year, came out to playupon the swar(1. From the South returned that operatroupe whose manager is never in de-spair, whose tenor never sulks, whoseprima donna never fails, and in the or-chard bond fide matin~es were held, towhich buttercups and clovers crowded intheir prettiest spring hats, and verdantyoung blades twinkled their dewy br-gnettes, as tbey bowed and made way forthe floral belles. May was bidding June good-morrow,and the roses were just dreaming that itwas almost time to wake, when John cameagain into the quiet room which now seem-ed the Eden that contained his Eve. Ofcourse there was a jubilee; but somethingseemed to have befallen the whole group,for never had they all appeared in suchodd frames of mind. John was restless,and wore an excited look, most unlikehis usual serenity of aspect. Nan the cheerful had fallen into a wellof silence and was not to be extracted byany hydraulic power, though she smiledlike the June sky over her head. Dispeculiarities were out in full force, andshe looked as if she would go off like a

torpedo, at a touch; but through all hermoods there was a half-triumphant, half-remorseful expression in the glance shefixed on John. And Laura, once so si-lent, now sang like a blackbird, as sheflitted to and fro; but her fitful song wasalways, Philip, my king. John felt that there had come a changeupon the three, and silently divined whoseunconscious influence had wrought themiracle. The embargo was off his tongue,and he was in a fever to ask that ques-tion which brings a flutter to the stoutestheart; but though the man had come,the hour had not. So, by way ofsteadying his nerves, he paced the room,pausing often to take notes of his com-panions, and each pause seemed to in-crease his wonder and content. He looked at Nan. She was in herusual place, the ri~id little chair she lov-ed, because it once was large enough tohold a curly-headed playmate and herself.The old work-basket was at her side, andthe battered thimble busily at work; buther lips wore a smile they had neverworn before, the color of the unblownroses touched her cheek, and her down-cast eyes were full of light. He looked at Di. The inevitable bookwas on her knee, but its leaves were un-cut; the strong-minded knob of hair stillasserted its supremacy aloft upon her

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 1860.1 A llfodern Cinderella. 439

head, and the triangular jacket stilladorned her shoulders in defiance of allfashions, past, present, or to come; hutthe expression of her brown countenancehad grown softer, her tongue had founda curb, and in her hand lay a card withPotts, Kettel, & Co. inscribed thereon,which she regarded with never a scornfulword for the Co. He looked at Laura. She was beforeher easel, as of old; hut the pale nun hadgiven place to a blooming girl, who sangat her work, which was no prim Pallas,hut a Clytie turning her human face tomeet the sun. John, what are you thinking of?He stirred as if Dis voice had disturb-

ed his fancy at some pleasant pastime,but answered ~y~ith his usual sincerity, I was thinking of a certain dear oldfairy tale called Cinderella. Oh! said Di; and her Oh was amost impressive monosyllable. I seethe meaning of your smile now; andthough the application of the story is notvery complimentary to all parties con-cerned, it is very just and very true. She paused a moment, then went onwith softened voice and earnest mien You think I am a blind and selfishcreature. So I am, but not so blind andselfish as I have been; for many tearshave cleared my eyes, and much sincereregret has made me humbler than I was.I have found a better book than any fa-thers library can give me, and I haveread it with a love and admiration thatgrew stronger as I turned the leaves.Henceforth I take it for my guide andgospel, and, looking back upon the selfishand neglectful past, can only say, Heavenbless your dear heart, Nan! Laura echoed Dis last words; for, witheyes as full of tenderness, she looked downupon the sister she had lately learned toknow, saying, warmly, Yes, Heaven bless your dear heart,Nan! I never can forget all you havebeen to me; and when I am far awaywith Philip, there will always be one coun-tenance more beautiful to me than anypictured face I may discover, there will beone place more dear to me than Rome.The face will be yours, Nan, always sopatient, always so serene; and the dear-er place will be this home of ours, whichyou have made so pleasant to me all theseyears by kindnesses as numberless andnoiseless as the drops of dew. Dear girls, what have I ever done,that you should love me so? cried Nan,with happy wonderment, as the tall heads,black and golden, bent to meet the lowlybrown one, and her sisters mute lips an-swered her. Then Laura looked up, saying, play-fully, Here are the good and wicked sis-ters ; where shall we find the Prince? There! cried Di, pointing to John;and then her secret went off like a rock-et; for, with her old impetuosity, shesaid,

I have found you out, John, and amashamed to look you in the face, remem-bering the past. Girls, you know, whenfather died, John sent us money, whichhe said Mr. Owen had long owed us andhad paid at last? It was a kind lie, John,and a generous thing to do; for we need-ed it, but never would have taken it as agift. I know you meant that we shouldnever find this out; but yesterday I metMr. Owen returning from the West, andwhen I thanked him for a piece of justicewe had not expected of him, he grufflytold me he had never paid the debt, nev-er meant to pay it, for it was outlawed,and we could not claim a farthing. John,I have laughed at you, thought you stu-pid, treated you unkindly; but I knowyou now, and never shall forget the les-son you have taught me. I am proudas Lucifer, but I ask you to forgive me,and I seal my real repentance so andso. With tragic countenance, Di rushedacross the room, threw both arms aboutthe astonished young mans neck anddropped an energetic kiss upon his cheek.There was a momentary silence; for Difinely illustrated her strong-minded theo-ries by crying like the weakest of hersex. Laura, with the ruling passion

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strong in death, still tried to draw, butbroke her pet crayon, and endowed herClytie with a supplementary orb, owingto the dimness of her own. And Nan satwith drooping eyes, that shone upon herwork, thinking with tender pride, They know him now, and love himfor his generous heart. Di spoke first, rallying to her colors,though a little daunted by her loss ofself-control. Dont laugh~, John, I couldnt helpit; and dont think Im not sincere, forI am,I am; and I will prove it bygrowing good enough to be your friend.That debt must all be paid, and I shalldo it; for Ill turn my books and pen tosome account, and write stories full ofdear old souls like you and Nan; and

some one, I know, will like and buy them,though they are not works of Shak-speare. Ive thought of this before, havefelt I had the power in me; now I havethe motive, and now Ill do it.If Di had proposed to translate theKoran, or build a new Saint Pauls, therewould have been many chances of suc-cess; for, once moved, her will, like a bat-tering-ram, would knock down the obsta-cles her wits could not surmount. Johnbelieved in her most heartily, and show-ed it, as he answered, looking into herresolute face,I know you will, and yet make usvery proud of our Chaos, Di. Let themoney lie, and when you have made afortune, Ill claim it with enormous inter-est; but, believe me, I feel already doub-ly repaid by the esteem so generouslyconfessed, so cordially bestowed, and canonly say, as we used to years ago, Now lets forgive and so forget.But proud Di would not let him addto her obligation, even by returning herimpetuous salute; she slipped away, and,shaking off the last drops, answered witha curious mixture of old freedom andnew respect, No more sentiment, please, John.We know each other now; and when Ifind a fi-iend, I never let him go. Wehave smoked the pipe of peace; so let usgo back to our wigwams and bury thefeud. Where were we when I lost myhead? and what were we talking about? Cinderella and the Prince. As he spoke, Johns eye kindled, and,turning, he looked down at Nan, whosat diligently ornamenting with micro-scopic stitches a great patch going on, thewrong side out. Yes, so we were; and now takingpussy for the godmother, the charactersof the story are well personated, allbut the slipper, said Di, laughing, asshe thought of the many times they hadplayed it together years ago. A sudden movement stirred Johnsframe, a sudden purpose shone in hiscountenance, and a sudden change befellhis voice, as he said, prod~icing from somehiding-place a little worn-out shoe, I can supply the slipper ;who willtry it first?Dis black eyes opened wide, as they

fell on the familiar object; then her ro-mance-loving nature saw the whole plotof that drama which needs but two toact it. A great delight flushed up intoher face, as she promptly took her cue,saying, No need for us to try it, Laura; forit wouldnt fit us, if our feet were as smallas Chinese dolls; our parts are playedout; therefore Exeunt wicked sisters tothe music of the wedding-bells. Andpouncing upon the dismayed artist, sheswept her out and closed the door witha triumphant bang. John went to Nan, and, dropping onhis knee as reverently as the herald ofthe fairy tale, he asked, still smiling, butwith lips grown tremulous, Will Cinderella try the little shoe,and if it fits go with the Prince? But Nan only covered up her face,weeping happy tears, while all the wearywork strayed down upon the floor, as if itknew her holiday had come. John drew the hidden face still closer,and while she listened to his eager words,Nan heard the beating of the strong mansheart, and knew it spoke the truth. Nan, I promised mother to be silent

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till I was sure I loved you wholly, surethat the knowledge would give no painwhen I should tell it, as I am trying totell it now. This little shoe has heenmy comforter through this long year, andI have kept it as other lovers keep theirfairer favors. It has heen a talismanmore eloquent to me than flower or ringfor, when I saw how worn it was, I al-ways thought of the willing feet thatcame and went for others comfort allday long; when I saw the little bow youtied, I always thought of the hands sodiligent in serving any one who knew awant or felt a pain; and when I recalledthe gentle creature who had worn it last,I always saw her patient, tender, anddevout, and tried to grow more wor-thy of her, that I might one day dare toask if she would walk beside me all mylife and he my angel in the house.Will you, dear? Believe me, you shallnever know a weariness or grief I have

the power to shield you from. Then Nan, as simple in her love as inher life, laid her arms ahout his neck,her happy face against his own, and an-swered softly, Oh, John, I never can he sad or tir-ed any more!