SUNSHINE AND SHADOW
OR PAUL BURTON’S SURPRISE
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_A Romance of the_
_American Revolution_
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BY JULIA A. MOORE
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER I. 5
CHAPTER II. 11
CHAPTER III. 17
CHAPTER IV. 23
CHAPTER V. 31
CHAPTER VI. 37
CHAPTER VII. 45
CHAPTER VIII. 51
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CHAPTER I.
Many years ago, in one of the New England States near the banks of a
small lake, stood a beautiful farm house, surrounded by a fine orchard.
John Hilton, the owner of this romantic place, was an intelligent farmer
and was kind to all people who chanced to come to his house. His family
consisted of himself, wife and two children, a son and daughter. Warren,
the eldest, was a fine lad of eighteen, with blue eyes and light
complexion, and inherited his father’s kind disposition. Minnie was a
brunette, a splendid girl of sixteen, with a heart as pure as the wild
flowers around her home. She had company. Her cousin, Nettie Spaulding,
had come from the city of New York to spend her birthday. Nettie was a
lovely girl of eighteen, with dark brown eyes and dark auburn hair which
hung in lovely curls around her shapely head. She had come to spend a
few days with her cousin in the country. Since her father’s death
nothing seemed to please this dreary, kind-hearted child of nature more
than to visit her uncle’s house by the lake, where she could roam at
will in the woods and gather wild flowers where nature had planted them
so artistically. That Monday morning there was a great bustle around the
house. There was to be a party on the Friday night following in honor of
the young lady friend, and all seemed to enjoy the pleasure it afforded,
except the young lady. She was silent and often in tears, and her
cousins could not draw her out of this apathy. That afternoon her
cousins were going to town to do some shopping. Nettie preferred staying
at home and going down to the lake to gather wild flowers for a bouquet.
“It is so pleasant to gather roses, lilies and shrubs alone by the
lake;” thus she said to her cousins as they rode away.
Warren waved an adieu as he said, “Dear cousin, do not go too near the
brink of the lake, as you may fall in and there would be no one to get
you out.”
She waved back the adieu as she sadly said, “Be not afraid, cousin. I
shall be careful. How happy they are,” she said as she turned and went
silently to the house, thinking how kind her cousins were to her, a
poor, lonely girl of the metropolis. Thus she mused: “Mother told me my
cousins would use me as if I was as well off financially as they were.
Oh, if papa had lived perhaps we would not have been bankrupt. Oh, how
times will change in a few short months; as soon as papa died nearly all
of his creditors wished to have their pay. It was all right for them to
have their dues. Poor mamma had to sell nearly all the property, only
saving a small sum out of the wreck. We can get along, for ‘where
there’s a will there’s a way.’ I am going to do something. One thing
certain—my parents gave me a good common education and debts cannot take
that away. I will try and turn it to good advantage when I can.” Thus
she mused as she went slowly up the path. The tears were slowly
trickling down her lovely features and falling on the little hands. She
was deeply engaged in thinking and did not observe her aunt who was
coming down to meet her. She was surprised when her aunt said, “Nettie
dear, why those tears? Are you not happy? Have your cousins been unkind
to you?”
“No, auntie, I was only thinking of papa and what might have been.”
“Yes, Nettie, I know what you are referring to, but God has willed it
otherwise and you should be content. My dear, your papa did not know
that he was so soon to die and leave his only child nearly penniless. If
he was to know it would make him very unhappy, as he dearly loved you.
It is well the dead do not know of the living, for if they did how
unhappy thousands would be to see the troubles and sorrows of their
friends on earth. This is a great mystery we cannot solve; we can only
do our duty in helping one another, then, perhaps, we can meet them on
that ‘evergreen shore.’”
While her aunt was speaking Nettie was silently weeping. Her aunt said,
“Cheer up, Nettie, you and your mother can have a home with us as long
as we have one, and we will share the last morsel of food with you; your
uncle said so a few days ago.”
“Thank you, auntie, we can get along yet a while; something may turn up
for us yet,” answered Nettie, kissing her aunt.
“Remember, my dear, you have one true Friend, One who is always near. He
will not forsake you in the hour of trial,” said her aunt.
“I remember mamma telling me that God will never forsake one of his
children if they will call on him for aid. It seems so strange, though,
to be cast down from wealth to poverty, and have nearly all our friends
turn from us,” said Nettie sorrowfully.
“They are not your friends; they are only make-believers. No true
friends would turn their backs to you because you had lost your wealth.
They would help you in the hour of need.”
“Thanks, auntie, for your compliment,” answered Nettie. “I will always
be true to myself and all mankind, then I will be able to reap the great
reward that is in store for the just.”
“Now, dear, it is time you should be going down to the lake to gather
those flowers, as your cousins will be back soon,” and as she spoke
these words she kissed her niece, turned, and ran up the steps as
sprightly as a young girl.
All the afternoon she was meditating how happy she would make her only
brother’s lonely child. “My children shall not mar her happiness by one
thought or deed, as I will set the example and they will follow, as they
are dutiful children.”
Meantime Nettie wandered down to the lake, gathered a beautiful bouquet
of wild flowers, and then sat down on the brink of the lake to arrange
them more tastily. She was thinking how she would be eighteen next
Friday, and how anxious her cousins were for her to get acquainted with
the young people of the vicinity. She exclaimed aloud, “Oh, if I was as
light hearted as they how happy I would be. They seem to be very happy
indeed, and why should they not be, with everything so pleasant around
them; by this little lake I could live always, where nature is dressed
in green in the summer season. Oh, mother, if you knew how lonely your
child is this afternoon and how sad it seems to me to come here for
pleasure, and leave you at home with only one companion. I know it is
very lonely for you, as I never have left you at home since papa died.
Oh, mama! why did you urge me to come and leave you alone. You were very
anxious for me to come and spend my birthday with my cousins. Oh,
mother! no happiness have I found, although my friends are very kind to
me. I hope some day I may be able to repay you for all the kindness you
have shown to me. Oh, dear! I am so melancholy.”
As she uttered those words tears were falling on the flowers in her lap,
and in moving some of the most beautiful of them fell into the water.
“Oh, dear! what shall I do! I can’t get any more of those lilies
tonight; what will auntie say when I return home?”
She had brought a stick and was trying to fish some of them up. So
busily was she engaged that she did not observe a tall manly form come
out of a clump of bushes near by until he said, “Dear lady, may I not
get those flowers for you? Please let me have that stick. Perhaps I can
reach the greater part of them.”
She gave the stick to him and stepped back and watched him as he drew
the flowers, one by one, out of the water. What a handsome young man he
was, as he stood, one foot on the bank and the other on a rock on the
edge of the lake, reaching far out into the water after the flowers. His
hat lay on the bank; his hair waved in the summer breeze—it was auburn
and inclined to be curly. His eyes were dark blue. He was a picture of
manliness. This was Paul Burton, the richest young man in the vicinity.
He came down to the lake fishing, had torn his net, and was mending it
when the lady came near by, and not wishing to frighten her had kept
quiet, thinking perhaps she would soon go away. He did not wish to be an
eaves dropper, but the circumstances placed him there and he did what
any other young man would have done in like circumstances. At last he
secured all the flowers. He gently shook the water from them and gave
them to her, and bowing low said, “May nothing more serious happen to
the receiver of these flowers!”
He picked up his hat and turned to go when Nettie said, “Sir, to whom am
I indebted for this great act of kindness?”
He turned towards her, handing her a card which read thus: P. B., of
Pine Island. She put the card in her portfolio and kindly thanked him.
“You are entirely welcome, and I hope we may meet again.”
He quickly retreated to his work, leaving her standing alone. She
watched his form until the bushes hid him from view, then she went
slowly homeward, contemplating about the young fellow she had just met.
She looked upon him as a hero and wished to know more about him. Thus
she mused: “I will find out who he is Friday night. Perhaps he may come
to the party, for he can’t live far from here as he is alone. I will not
say anything to cousin about whom I saw, but will wait and see what will
come to pass.” She went home in a lively mood; she was happier now than
she had been since her sojourn in the country. Her cousins had returned
heavy laden with dainties for the party. As she came into the house so
gaily they demanded to know why she had been gone so long.
“You have not been getting flowers all this time; mother said you went
away as soon as we were gone,” said Minnie.
“Yes,” said Warren, “I was thinking of coming down to find you, thinking
you had wandered far out into the woods and got lost, or was drowned in
the lake.”
“No, cousin, I lost some of my flowers in the lake and had to get them.”
“How did you manage to get them,” asked Minnie laughing, “you had to
wade out in the water no doubt.”
“No, Minnie, they were fished out with a stick.”
“It must have been great amusement for you fishing for flowers; I wish I
could have seen you,” said Minnie, looking at her cousin pleasantly.
“You would have been surprised no doubt. I tell you, cousin, I have had
a splendid time since you have been gone, anyway,” answered Nettie.
She omitted telling them what a fine companion she met by the lake. She
seemed more cheerful and took more interest in getting ready for the
party. All her friends there wondered what had made her so lively and
gay all at once, as she spoke often of the party the remainder of the
week. All the young people were busily engaged in getting ready for this
grand occasion, which was to be a sunbeam in the life of poor, delicate,
lovely little Nettie; she who was discouraged and depressed; and for
this reason her mother was anxious regarding the health of her child,
and for a change sent her to her uncle’s, who were doing everything in
their power to draw her back to be the same lively girl she was before
her father’s death.
I will leave them all busily engaged in getting ready for the party, and
return to Paul.
After getting the flowers he went back to his net, but he could not
work. Time hung heavily on his hands. At last he picked up his fishing
tackle and went homeward, musing on what a lovely little being he had
found; such little hands. “I saw one tiny little foot as she stepped
upon a knoll to see me fish for the flowers, and never can I forget
those dark, dreamy eyes. They seem to look into my very soul. I wonder
if she is Warren Hilton’s cousin. All the girls around here I am
acquainted with. This little lady must be the city cousin Hilton’s
people are going to make a party for. Warren has given me an invitation,
and I am going, on purpose to see if my conjecture is right.” Turning he
went home, and as he came without any fish. His mother met him at the
door and said: “Why Paul where are your fish?”
“In the lake, I suppose,” he answered laughing heartily. “Do you not see
I haven’t any?”
“I didn’t know but what you left them somewhere about,” answered his
mother, rather sharply.
“Now mother do not be cross with your little boy. He has only been
fishing and tore the fish net and could not catch any,” said Paul, still
laughing. “Oh, mother, I found the nicest little human fish I ever saw,
and I am going to catch her if I can. What will my mother say to that?”
“My son,” answered the lady solemnly, “if she is good and true I will
not say anything, but if she is not, what a life you would live God only
knows. My past life you never knew, and may never, perhaps. If I had my
life to live over again, I should lead a different life to the one I
have been living the past twenty years.”
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