----To struggle with the world,--that is a proud thing; to struggle
alone,--there lies the doubt! Then crowds in swift upon the calm of
boyhood the first anxious thought of youth; then chases over the sky of
Spring the first heated and wrathful cloud of Summer.
But the lamps are now lit in the little parlor, and they shed a soft
haze to the farthest corner of the room; while the firelight streams
over the floor, where puss lies purring. Little Madge is there; she has
dropped in softly with her mother, and Nelly has welcomed her with a
bound and with a kiss. Jenny has not so rosy a cheek as Madge. But
Jenny with her love-notes, and her languishing dark eye, you think of as
a lady; and the thought of her is a constant drain upon your sentiment.
As for Madge,--that girl Madge, whom you know so well,--you think of her
as a sister; and yet--it is very odd--you look at her far oftener than
you do at Nelly!
Frank too has come in to have a game with you at draughts; and he is in
capital spirits, all brisk and glowing with his evening's walk.
He--bless his honest heart!--never observes that you arrange the board
very adroitly, so that you may keep half an eye upon Madge, as she sits
yonder beside Nelly.
Pages:
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110