Page:Peterson's Magazine 1842, Volume I.pdf/48

. quaintances in the city, while her story was yet a new one. It was therefore decided she should go, and an acceptance was written, appointing an early day for her departure by the line of stages indicated for her. Mrs. Wiley disposed of some of her evening dresses and ornaments, for her, and obtained funds which enabled her to retain the dear harp and piano, which were left in Mrs. Wiley's care. The loneliness of that journey to the beautiful young girl, who had never travelled before but with all the accompaniments of wealth and fashion, can better be imagined than described, and yet she lost no real comfort, wanted no necessary attention, for the roughest of her fellow passengers offered the most comfortable seat in the stage and the choicest dish on the table to the unprotected stranger. And thus it is generally in the United States : to be a woman and unprotected, is to insure every needful attention. At length the journey drew to aclose. From the brow of the hill Emma beheld her future home. She had been delighted with the appearance and situation of many of the numerous villages which render western New York beautiful, but this surpassed them all. Situated at the junction of two fine rivers, within a day's ride of one of that cluster of lakes, which has obtained for that section of country, the name of Lake County, it is the depot for the produce of a rich neighborhood, and wore the thriving, onward look, so peculiarly American. Every thing looked new. Every thing in good order. The snow-white houses gleamed among luxuriant trees, which seemed striving their utmost to keep pace with the fortunes of their owners. Four or five steeples pierced the air, and as many bells when occasion required, rang out their peals, for when the first steeple was reared, a spirit of emulation was excited, which waxed hotter and hotter, till each congregation boasted its own spire, the last always a little higher, or more ornamented than its predecessor ; and when it whispered abroad that a certain vestry meditated procuring a bell, not one of the active members, as they are termed, of the other churches, had a moment's rest till affairs were in train to procure one for their own. The ladies, too, in the meanwhile, got up fairs for carpetting the aisles, and ornamenting the pulpits. As it was with their churches, so with their dwellings, the education of their children, their very clothing. When Emma beheld with admiring eyes, the lovely landscape below her, so well calculated to fill the mind with sweet peaceful feelings, and lead the thoughts to the Giver of all good, the Creator of all beauty, she had little idea of the unainiable feelings which had had so great an influence in beautifying the lovely village which made the most prominent feature in the scene. All was fair on the outside, and she knew nothing of the spirit of gossipping and often of wilful detraction, which had so great sway with its inhabitants. Her admiration was soon swallowed up by the thoughts of the approaching interview with the Oldens, and as the coach whirled rapidly through the streets, it required all her self-command to maintain outward composure. Her heart beat so fast as to check her breath, and she was barely conscious of surrounding objects. At last the stop, the opening of the door, the driver's request she would hand him her basket, roused her, and bidding adieu to her fellow-passengers, she was soon on the pavement, her trunk beside her, and the stage was gone. It required some courage to mount the steps of the large house on which she saw the name of Olden, and ring the bell ; but it was at last done, and the summons answered by so showily dressed a young woman, that Emma at first thought it must be one of the family, but the girl, having first examined the trunks answered the question as to Mrs. Olden's being at home, with,

“ I suppose you are the young woman that's going to be governess ; Miss Olden is in the parlor, you can go in and see her," and showing her the door, she left her to open it and announce herself. Mrs. Olden was sitting alone in a gaudily and somewhat richly furnished room. Her dress consisted of a common calico, with an apron covered with gay embroidery, and a cap, whose ribbons and flowers outshone the rainbow. Her appearance corresponded with her dress and furniture ; and Emma shrank from the mingled curiosity and ill-nature of the vulgar stare she encountered ; for to tell the truth Mrs. Olden was far from pleased with the remarkable beauty of her new inmate, having two grown daughters, beside the three who were to be Emma's pupils ; and one son, toward whom her thoughts glanced somewhat uneasily, as the stranger moved gracefully across the room to the chair she was tardily requested to take. After a few common place remarks, Mrs. Olden went into the hall, and standing at the foot of the stairs, in a shrill voice summoned her grown daughters by the names of Sary Rosalindy and Letheresy Ann, so she pronounced them. The younger ones, she informed Emma, were absent for the day. As she returned to her seat, her eye caught the figure of a tall man examining Miss Benson's baggage, and she looked very much vexed when she saw him ascend the steps, he being no other than Mr. Busby, who, having nothing to do and little to think of, being, moreover, a bachelor, and very good natured, devoted himself to the acquisition and retailing of news, whether private or public, and Mrs. Olden knew that within an hour after he had seen Emma, the whole village would be ringing with exaggerated accounts of her beauty and accomplishments, and stylish travelling appointments. Anxious as she felt to keep her in the back ground, nothing could be more mal-a-propos than that Mr. Busby should see and announce her.

"I could keep the girl in the school-room any other