Lewistown Gazette

Miscellaneous.

MILLY GREY.
BY MARY A. DENISON.

"Oh, ever let the aged be
A sacred angel unto thee."

"Ha, ha, ha," cried gay Bell Grosvenor, "see yonder country gaw key; as I live, he is beckoning the coachman; now if he gets in there'll be fun, for I do love to plague these green ones; why Milly, how you open your great blue eyes. You ain't frightened, are you? Look at her, Annie; ha, ha, just look at her."

"But you are not in earnest Bell," said Milly timidly shrinking back on her seat, "you would not be so impolite, so—"

"Our politeness is reserved for the city, dear," broke in Annie; "we consider such fellows as that, nobodies; and if they don't want to be laughed at, why they must take an outside place with the coachman."

"Then you won't catch me sitting on the same seat with you," exclaimed Milly, with a look of alarm, springing away from her cousins, and ensconcing herself in a seat opposite.

"So much the better," cried Bell, with a merry laugh; "we can have a good time with both of—hush! here he comes, oh! Annie, what a fright."

The young man unbuttoned the coach door himself, for the horses were going up hill, and springing up the steps rather awkwardly, on account of a large portmanteau he held, seated himself on a seat near Milly. Bell and Annie exchanged looks and bit their lips.

Milly hugged the back of the coach, blushing crimson with shame for her cousins, and the country greeny, who wore a very much soiled coat and a shocking cap, over which a light, thin handkerchief was thrown, and fastened under his chin, looked up at them demurely. Once when he could not but notice that the object of their mirth was himself, he suddenly put his hand to his throat as if to untie his uncouth cap strings—i.e., the ends of the handkerchief—but pausing he seemed to change his mind, and let them alone.

"Won't you have my vinaigrette, Milly dear," said Bell, with an arch smile and side glance at the stranger.

"You do look pale," chimed in Annie, tossing back her thick curls, and restraining herself no longer, she burst into a rude laugh, for the poor girl's cheeks were distressingly flushed.

"Take my fan, coz," exclaimed Bell proffering it; "the air in this coach is really overpowering;" and she placed her delicate pocket handkerchief to her face.

"I thank you," said Milly, with as much dignity as she could assume, while her lips trembled, "I do not need it."

"She certainly is faint, Annie," said Bell in a low tone, "come Milly, you had better sit between us where we can support you; you haven't quite room enough on that side."

The thoughtless girl started, for a blazing black eye flashed upon her; it was only for a second though, that quick, piercing glance, with fire of fifty outraged dignities concentrated within it.

"If you please, cousin Bell," said Milly with more spirit than they dreamed she possessed, "don't annoy me any more; I am better pleased with my seat than your rudeness;" and the pretty lip trembled again, and the pretty face looked as if it was going to cry.

The young man turned quickly; the hard expression that had gathered about his mouth melted into something akin to a pleased smile, while the two rebuked cousins were very angry, as any one might have seen.

There was no more comment until the coach stopped again, this time to take up a fat old lady with a well-worn bonnet, loaded down with innumerable bandboxes and bundles, most of which she insisted on carrying into the coach with her.

Here was plenty of material for the merriment of the thoughtless sisters. Bell declared that the bandboxes must have once contained old Mrs. Noah's best bonnet, and Annie persisted that if so, that identical bonnet was now before them.

No sooner was the coach door opened than out sprang the stranger, and taking sundry things from the old lady, deposited them carefully in the inside: all but one about which she seemed very choice: but just as she performed the laborious feat of stepping just within the door down rolled the paper with a crash: something was destroyed. Bell and Annie enjoyed her real distress at the accident, and burst into another impertinent laugh.

The old lady could not avoid looking toward them, and as her hair was a little awry and her spectacles crooked, she presented a sight appearing to them so ludicrous, that they hid their faces, almost convulsed with laughter.

"Are these your sisters, sir?" she asked mildly, turning to the gentleman.

"I hope not, madam," he answered in low and measured tones, "my sisters respect age, to them grey hairs are too sacred for trifling;" he did not wince in the least under the angry glance of the mortified girls, now completely silenced; but Milly had thrown her thick veil down, and was weeping all to herself.

"I am going to the house of Dr. James; do you know him, sir?" asked the old lady after a few moments of silence.

"I should, madam, for he is my father," said the stranger with a smile.

The flushed cheeks of Bell grew instantly pale—her eyes met those of her companion, on whose face a similar reaction had also taken place.

"My son, Professor I——, lectures in Taunton to-night, and as I have seldom the pleasure of listening to him, he is so often away, I thought I would make an effort to visit your father—I am glad he is your father, young man, you do him honor," she continued with a gratified look; "you have his eyes and his forehead—I should know them"—the stranger had lifted his cap, taken off his handkerchief, and was wiping the moisture from a magnificent brow, above which the jet black curls hung thick and silkily—"I shall have the pleasure also of meeting my son at your house, and acquainting him with your politeness towards a strange old woman, who was the subject of some not very flattering remarks."

She did not glance this time towards the young ladies, if she had she would have pitied them; they sat cowering down completely crest-fallen. It was indeed a pretty kettle of fish they had prepared for themselves. They, too, were going for the express purpose of hearing Professor I——, one of the most brilliant lecturers of the day, and who had almost been bewitched by the sparkling beauty of Bell Grosvenor, when a guest at her father's in the city; so much so that he had been heard to declare he knew not another woman who appeared to possess so many desirable qualities for a wife. And strangely enough they were going to the very house of the man they had so grossly insulted; for they never could have dreamed the gawky to be the only son of their mother's friend, the rich and influential Dr. James. They knew indeed that he had been for some time expected home from his tour in Europe, but his travel stained attire, and his silence had completely deceived them.

Meantime Milly recovered a little from her trouble; the envious veil was thrown back, the two pouting lips restored to their equanimity, the glad, merry eyes, all the brighter for the little wash of tears, rested, or rather danced over the beautiful prospect of fields, and trees, and rose-lined paths; she, innocent heart, had nothing to reproach herself with, and gladly would her cousins have exchanged places with her.

They sat very silent, trembling and almost fainting, till the stage drew up near the broad entrance into the Doctor's grounds; they were still undecided when the coachman said, "the young ladies are to stop here, I believe;" and unstrapped the trunk from the huge boot.

Henry James, after a moment's embarrassment stepped back to the door, and with a bright smile at Milly, said, as if nothing unpleasant had transpired, "will you allow me to assist you out, young ladies?" How daintily he conducted her to the ground; but as the others descended there was a chilling reserve in his manner, and a painful confusion in theirs that told how indelible would be the recollection of that unfortunate meeting.

Bell Grosvenor and her sister returned the next day; they could not endure to meet Professor I—— in the presence of his mother, but they had learned a lesson which they will probably treasure for life—not to judge by externals, and to treat old age, even in rags, with a reverence as holy as though it moved about in golden slippers.

But I am a portionless orphan, Henry.

But you are the same Milly Grey that sat in the back seat of the old stage, and nobly resisted the influence of wealth and fashion, when those rude, proud girls would have laughed down the uncouth countryman. From that moment I loved you; and still more when I perceived your delicate attention to my father's friend.

Believe me, Milly, no true man would trust his happiness with one who would insult grey hairs; there is little heart in such a one, however faultless the exterior, and I have such extreme reverence for the aged, that a loathing, impossible for me to express, came over me when I witnessed the behaviour of your cousins; they may be wealthy, highly educated, fascinating, but I would no more wed one of them than I would play with a rattlesnake.

There! God bless you, Milly—look up, love, and let me tell you that in my eyes you are worth millions—nay, more than all the world.

Bell and Annie Grosvenor are both wedded, but neither of them has a professor I—— or a Dr. James for a husband.

They are, however, very gay and fashionable, if that is any compensation; but Milly, sweet Milly, lives in a beautiful villa in a country town, as happy and devoted a wife and mother as can be found in the wide, wide world.