A NEW JOY.
I returned to my school, after having enjoyed a very pleasant visit with
Miss Simmonds. I thought much of the story she had related to me. I
endeavoured to learn a useful lesson from the cheerful resignation which
Miss Simmonds evinced by her daily life.
Obadiah still pursued his studies with much zeal; and, upon my return
home, each succeeding week, I gave him all the assistance in my power.
The amount of knowledge he had derived, by devoting his leisure hours to
study, was indeed wonderful. Awkward as he at first appeared to me, I
found, as he progressed in his studies, that he possessed a powerful
intellect, which only required proper culture to enable him to become a
talented and useful man.
I now pass, with a few words, over a period of two years. During all
this time I had continued the labors of my school at Mill Town, still
considering my uncle's house as my home. Obadiah had, by the advice of
my uncle, gone to pursue his studies in Massachusetts, having decided to
obtain a thorough education. He intended fitting himself for college,
and had saved money sufficient to defray his expenses while so doing,
Miss Simmonds still resided in her home at Littleton, and the longer I
enjoyed her friendship the more did I love and respect her. I had
received several letters from Aunt Patience during the past two years.
She had repeatedly urged me to visit her, but, for various reasons, I
had been unable to do so; but at this time, I determined to pay her a
visit. Accordingly, I prepared for my journey to Woodville a small
village in Massachusetts, where she resided. She was very much pleased
to see me. She was much changed since I had last seen her. Her once
vigorous and active form was beginning to bow beneath the weight of
years. She seemed to be very comfortably situated with her relatives;
for, having but a small family, they were able to give her a quiet home.
I enquired of her if she felt happy in her home?
"I feel quite happy and contented," she replied, "and have no wish to
leave my present home, till you marry and possess a home of your own,
when I should be very glad to make my home with you."
I replied that I had no intention of marrying at present but that if
that event should take place during her lifetime, I should be most happy
to receive her into my home.
The village of Woodville was not large; but its location was romantic
and pleasant, being bounded on one side by a range of high hills, and on
the other by a beautiful river. I was highly pleased with the place, and
with the kind family with whom Aunt Patience resided. When I had spent
about ten days at Woodville, I received a letter from my uncle,
requesting my return home without delay. In a postscript he informed me
that I need not be alarmed, as both he and my aunt were in good health;
but that he did not wish to assign a reason for requesting my return. I
could not imagine what had caused my uncle to summon me home, as he was
aware that I had intended spending several weeks with my aunt; and I
made all possible haste to set out on my homeward journey, and left
Woodville the next morning after receiving my uncle's letter. When my
uncle and aunt met me on my return, I knew by their manner that
something unusual had taken place in my absence; but I judged from the
countenance of both that, whatever the event might be, it was one of joy
rather than sorrow. My uncle soon said,--
"Can you bear good news, Clara?"
I replied that I thought I could.
"Then," continued my uncle, "I have the happiness of informing you that
the hopes you had so long cherished of seeing your uncle Charles will be
realized, for he has arrived."
'Ere I could frame a reply, the door of the adjoining room opened, and
my new-found uncle came hastily forward. He evinced much emotion as he
tenderly embraced me, saying,--
"Your face strongly reminds me of the twin brother from whom I parted
so many years ago. You know not how happy I am in finding the daughter
of my dear brother."
I could trace in the features of my uncle Charles a resemblance to my
dear father; but, as my father had died while quite a young man, the
resemblance, at my uncle's time of life, was less striking than
otherwise it might have been.
My uncle Charles was now sixty-five years old; but travel and exposure
caused him to look much older than he really was. He informed me that he
had first visited Philadelphia with the hope of finding my father; and,
when he learned that my father and mother were both dead, he next
enquired if they left any children? He learned that they left one
daughter, who had resided for some time in the family of the Leightons,
as governess; but had left Philadelphia three years since. He next
sought out the Leightons, hoping to learn my residence; but they of
course could give him no information upon the subject. They directed him
to Mrs. Burnside, who at first was reluctant to give the information he
sought; but, when he informed her of the relationship I bore to him, she
directed him to my uncle Wayland, in New Hampshire, at whose residence
he arrived one week previous to my return from Massachusetts. He soon
after gave us the following brief account of his life, since he left
Philadelphia, when a boy, which I reserve for the succeeding chapter of
my story.