Page:The Granite Monthly Volume 10.djvu/98

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��Ethel F7-eenian.

��cheeks always the deepest tint of the rose; her mouth was well formed, large rather than small, expressing decision and firmness, and redeeming the almost too sweet look of the e^^es. Added to these was the something called style that is not the mere wear- ing of the most fashionable clothes, nor a certain bearing or gait or air, but an intangible but true talent given to the typical young lady of New York society; though in Ethel the usual dash and sometimes bizarre tout ensemble were tempered by — why not say domesticity?

Both parents were very proud of her beauty, and Ethel herself relied too much upon it, foigetting that however attractive it might prove at first, if it were not merely a fortunate adornment to more lasting charms, it becomes often forgotten or unno- ticed — valueless.

The next evening Ethel was at the theatre, with George Freeman as es- cort. Her mother used often to sit up until after her return from opera, party, and ball, to hear her recount her gaieties, and they would sit gos- sipping together like two girls; but to-night she was to persuade her of the unworthiuess of a favored lover, and her spirits sank at thought of the encounter. The play they had been to see was King Lear, and Mrs. Reed had an undefined belief that Ethel's feelings of duteous obedience and honor to parents would consequently be in the ascendant.

She began by speaking of what her husband had told her, and of Ethel's evident favor to Mr. Freeman, while her daughter listened silently. She then argued the probable, nay almost certain, results of such a marriage as

��theirs would be, from the reasons she had given Ethel's father. Ethel had been standing at the window looking out into the night; she then came and sat on a low stool by her mother's knee, where she could look directly in her face.

"I admit a great deal you say, mother, but I see much real goodness and latent nobleness of character in him that you have never noticed; and he says," she added, blushing rosy red, "that I can help him lead a worthier and higher life; that I should be an inspiration to him!"

"Jane Eyre and Lord Rochester," said her mother, sadly scoruful.

"Yes, Jane Eyre and Lord Roch- ester, if you please to call us so, mother. I am sorry you do uot like it, but indeed it is too late to talk to me now. I knew vou had not a high opinion of George; — nobody thinks half as well of him as he deserves, but I never thought you positively disliked him, as I see now you do; — and why do you?"

"I suppose it is natural."

An(f then Mrs. Reed told Ethel the story of her youth. It was a touch- ing confidence, and when she ended tears flowed over Ethel's cheeks.

"Poor mother! poor, poor moth- er!" she said, smoothing the thin sil- ver hair; and the two wept together, the mother's tears being the first she had shed for years, and the last she ever shed over the old love affair, and these more for the sympathy of her daughter, and because of the fear and sorrow she felt for her, than for any lingering grief.

" But we will not ' visit the sins of the fathers upon the children,' " said Ethel, after a little while. "George

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