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SOPHY.

(An American Tale.)

BY MISS MEETA M. DUNCAN,

Love knoweth every form of air,
And every shape of earth;
And comes unbidden everywhere,
Like thought's mysterious birth.

N. P. WILLIS.

"What can be the matter now?" exclaimed a young gentleman, who, lounging upon a sofa in a half darkened room, was whiling away, with a book in his hand, the oppressive hours of a long summer morning. The small apartment which he occupied communicated with a large oldfashioned summer parlour, the windows of which were open to the floor, and led to a beautiful lawn, overlooking a wild but lovely landscape beyond. From this room the sounds proceeded which had aroused his attention, and as they grew louder he arose and passed through the half-open door to investigate the cause of this annoyance. In the middle of the room stood a rather stout over-dressed lady, past the prime of life, whose countenance was inflamed by the anger which had elevated her voice. Fronting her was a young girl of about fifteen years, whose flushed cheeks and air of defiance proved that she was undergoing, not without resistance, a severe rebuke. Her profuse golden hair fell tangled and disordered about her face and neck, | and her muslin cape was twisted all awry. In one hand she held an old straw bonnet, in the other a basket containing books; while over her arm hung, in full view, a pair of most suspicious-looking stockings. By a very natural process of thought, the young intruder's attention was directed downward, where a bare and very white little foot, hastily thrust into a shoe of questionable cleanliness, peeped out from beneath a draggled skirt.

The lady's back was turned as Robert Ashleigh paused at the door, but a quick glance of the eye, and a varying expression of the countenance, showed that the child marked his approach; which, however, did not prevent her answering, in tones of passionate defiance, the torrent of fierce and angry invective which her stepmother-for in this relation she stood to her-poured upon her. There was an intenseness of feeling, a precision, and force of expression in her language, as she rapidly and indignantly retorted upon her companion, and replied to her charges, that surprised as well as pained Ashleigh; for, young as she was, it was evident that all the superiority which mind gives was upon her side. The whole scene shocked

Ashleigh, while, at the same time, his feelings were naturally enlisted in favour of one whose years, whose relationship to himself commanded his sympathy.

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My dear aunt," he said, stepping forward, "what is the matter? Sophy, I am sorry to see this!"

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"Sorry!" exclaimed the lady angrily, drawing herself up; "you may well be sorry! Such a disobedient, ungrateful girl is enough to bring sorrow into any house!"

"What has happened?"

"Why, what happens every day instead of attending to her studies, her music, her sewing, she neglects everything, to run about the country, and follow her own wilful and unladylike pursuits."

"It is not true!" said the child, passionately. "I have not neglected my music, my studies, a single day since we came into the country." "Nor your sewing, miss?" said the lady, tauntingly.

"The sewing I acknowledge I neglect," replied the child, "for you have no right to burden me with such heavy tasks. Disobedient I may be, for you have rendered obedience impossible. Ungrateful I cannot be, as you have never given me cause for gratitude; and for my pursuits," she continued, lowering her voice, and compressing her lips, "I think them as ladylike as any I have an example of."

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And pray, miss," said Mrs. Ellis, "do you call your last exploit, which I have just witnessed from my window, an example of your ladylike propensities? I am certain, Robert," turning to Ashleigh, "that you will acquit me of injustice when I assure you that I saw Sophy, not ten minutes ago, deliberately pull off her shoes and stockings, and with her petticoats tucked up, wade across the creek."

The colour deepened in the young girl's face, and an expression of humour flitted momentarily across her countenance, as this relation proceeded; but she replied immediately, “I never waded the creek before; and I should not have done it to-day, if I had had any other way to cross. The bridge is broken, and I did not choose to go a mile round; but," added she,

quickly, raising her large violet eyes-the anger which had lately filled them, now replaced by a vivid expression of delight" I will not promise not to do it again, for I never enjoyed myself so much in my life."

"You see," said Mrs. Ellis, expanding her hands expressively, "she is perfectly incorrigible;" and she swept out of the room in the most dignified manner, saying-"Your father shall hear of this, miss!"

For a few moments after the departure of Mrs. Ellis, Sophy stood motionless; her chin resting upon her bosom, and her eyes downcast. Her companion looked at her for a little while, and then said, in a grave voice, "Sophy, is this right?"

The child raised her eyes to his face, with a look of surprise; but the next moment her expression changed, and she said, quickly, "What do you think?"

fond to excess of dress and show, while her whole life was spent in a routine of busy nothings. During the first years of her marriage, the children were left very much to the mercy of servants and teachers, Mrs. Ellis contenting herself with furnishing them plentifully with fine clothes, and occasionally costly presents. But as Emily, who was four years older than her sister, grew into womanhood, she began to take a more active interest in them. Emily was growing up a beautiful girl, and though far inferior in capacity to her younger sister, as her tastes and pursuits were congenial with her stepmother's, she became a decided favourite with her, notwithstanding some symptoms of independence and self-will which occasionally showed themselves.

Sophy, on the other hand, fell far into the shadow of her mother's favour. From the commencement of Mrs. Ellis's interference in their Thus called upon, Ashleigh did not hesitate pursuits and conduct, Sophy had never been to speak to her with the frankness which he able to accommodate herself to her wishes. The thought she required. His manner was grave, child was quick and shrewd, and soon learned and his tone serious. He expressed his sur- to fathom all the weaknesses of Mrs. Ellis's prise, his pain, in beholding the terms on which character, and with the presumption of precoshe lived with her stepmother. He spoke with cious childhood, she decided that she could not strong displeasure of her disrespect to one be a guide for her. The consequence of this whose years and position as her father's wife conviction was a system of perpetual warfare entitled her at least to the decent forms of between the two. Sophy began to nourish a respect; and, while he touched with feeling upon contempt for all the conventional refinements the evil consequences which such a course must which her stepmother laid so much stress upon, entail upon all connected with her, he adverted and to take a pleasure in violating them; while feelingly to the higher and more solemn ob- Mrs. Ellis, with the petty tyranny of a weak ligation which she was violating. He did not woman, enforced with injustice the rules which attempt to conceal his sense of Mrs. Ellis's de- she had determined to carry out. The result of fects of character, but dwelt upon her kindness this we have seen, in the interview just described of heart, her generosity, and her many excellent-rebellion and disrespect on one side, impotent qualities, all of which, he said, were inducements rage and undignified conduct on the other. to one who herself possessed an excellent understanding, to exercise forbearance and good feeling.

Sophy listened to these remonstrances with a flushed cheek and swelling heart, and it was evident that she was preparing to defend herself; but ere he ceased, she had changed her mind, and throwing up her head with a movement of haughtiness, she said, "Thank you, Mr. Ashleigh; I dare say you mean to be kind,"

and left the room.

While the three persons just introduced are smoothing their ruffled tempers, according to their several necessities, we will endeavour to enlighten the reader somewhat as to their relative positions in the little drama before us.

Mr. Ellis was a native of Philadelphia, the dispenser of a large income, which he derived from his second wife, a wealthy widow, whom he had married some years after the death of his first. Absorbed in politics, and for a number of years actively engaged in public life, he mingled very little in the domestic circle, leaving his two daughters to the guidance of their stepmother, a woman whose slender intellect by means qualified her for so important a charge. Mrs. Ellis was warm-hearted and good-natured in the main, but violent and obstinate when opposed. Weak, opinionated, and narrow-minded, she was

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Robert Ashleigh was the nephew of Mrs. Ellis's first husband, to whom, at the death of Mrs. Ellis, the whole of her large fortune was to descend. With a sentiment that did her honour, Mrs. Ellis cherished a strong regard for her late husband's young relative, and, by her attentions and kindness to Ashleigh, strove to exhibit the warmth of her gratitude to him whose watchful care had followed her beyond the grave. Amid the schemes which filled Mrs. Ellis's mind, was one which lay very near her heart. This was to bring about a matrimonial alliance between Robert and her favourite Emily, by that means to draw closer the tie which bound him to her, and, at the same time, to secure, in her own family, the large property which would revert to him at her death. She had, however, womanly tact enough not to hint her wishes to either party; but encouraged Ashleigh's visits, and admitted him into her family, on such a footing as to allow him every opportunity of falling in love if so disposed.

Robert Ashleigh was some four or five years older than Emily, and at the time of Mrs. Ellis's marriage, while pursuing his studies in a law office, he took very little notice of the wellbehaved little Miss, who ate her rice-pudding occasionally beside him at his aunt's well-spread table; but as years went by, and Emily's beauty

neath this waywardness, there was an undercurrent scarcely known to herself. She had too much quickness of mind, too much natural good feeling, not to appreciate all that Ashleigh had said; and even while she told herself that he was unjust and presuming, his words were silently and imperceptibly working an important revolution in her character.

developed itself, he became more observant. | serve, her childish sense of injury. But beTime, which had expanded her into a beautiful woman, had matured him, a dreaming youth, into an active, thinking man. During the summer months, the Ellis family usually retired to their country seat, a few miles from town, and here, in pursuance of Mrs. Ellis's plan, Ashleigh was considered a regular guest-Robert's seat at the table, and Robert's room, being as universally respected and acknowledged, as those Fortunately, in aid of this moral change, an of any member of the family. Heretofore, how- entire alteration took place in the conduct of ever, these privileges did not seem to have been Mrs. Ellis towards her. While the painful imvery highly valued, and it was not until the pre-pression remained fresh upon Ashleigh's mind, sent summer that hope began to whisper in Mrs. after the angry discussion which he had witEllis's heart. Robert had devoted himself very nessed, he sought his aunt, and held with her a obviously, during the latter part of the past serious conversation relative to Sophy. Mrs. winter, to Emily, and when the regular summer Ellis's affection for Ashleigh gave him great ininvitation came, he accepted it immediately, and fluence with her; and, though obliged to soothe, left them only occasionally for short periods. palliate, and reason by turns, he succeeded in Mrs. Ellis watched the young people closely, persuading her to change her mode of disciand was rejoiced to perceive that Emily was by pline with Sophy. With a mind not sufficiently no means indisposed to be as sentimental as Mr. enlarged, however, to comprehend the full scope Ashleigh might desire. of his advice, and unable to pursue any middle course, Mrs. Ellis fell into the opposite extreme; and, instead of interfering with Sophy every hour of the day, she now left her entirely to her controul. This would have proved with most children a ruinous course, but with Sophy it produced happier effects. No longer teazed, tormented, and scolded, she applied herself to her appointed tasks with cheerfulness and regularity; and even the hateful needle received a share of attention.

Nothing is more senseless, and yet so common, as the wise tone of censure adopted by people, in dilating upon the vanity of women, and their love of admiration! So long as women see and feel that mere external beauty is sufficient | to enchain the wisest and most exalted of the other sex, so long will they prize, strive for, and cultivate, at the expense of more estimable qualities, that which they know to be their stronghold. The example before us illustrates these remarks. Emily Ellis was, in truth, a shallow, designing girl, with very little feeling; but her beauty, and the good humour usually engendered by self-complacency, won for her popularity abroad, importance at home, and the regard of a man of mind, high principles, and warm affections.

Heretofore, though on terms of familiar intimacy with the family, Ashleigh's mind had been little occupied by them; but, since the spell cast upon him by Emily's attractions, his interest deepened in all that concerned them, and it was under the influence of these feelings that he had spoken to Sophy, as, he believed, a brother would have done. After the scene described, however, and when left alone, Ashleigh felt some regret at the tone of harshness which his remonstrances with his little kinswoman had assumed. The strong and impetuous feeling exhibited by the child, her bitter sense of injustice, though marked by unrestrained temper, surprised, and, at the same time, interested him, and he now questioned whether a more soothing, gentle course would not have been the wiser plan to adopt.

With a sensitive mind, ripened far beyond her years, every word that Ashleigh had spoken during that painful scene fastened upon Sophy's memory, there to ripen and bring forth its fruits of good and evil. Her pride, as well as the sensitiveness peculiar to girls of her age, revolted at thus being schooled by one of another sex, whom no tie of blood entitled to be her censor, and she exhibited, by her cold and sullen re

Too proud to let this change be seen, and unwilling that Ashleigh should suppose his remarks had possessed any influence, these events bred in Sophy a degree of reserve to all around her; and she experienced that feeling, so common with the young and sensitive, of being singled out, of standing alone in the family. Much of this, it is true, was purely imaginary; but in some respects it was not without foundation. Mr. Ellis was an indifferent, selfish man, and a negligent parent. All the affection he had to bestow was given to his eldest daughter, of whose beauty and sprightliness he was proud; Sophy chiefly presenting herself to his mind as a self-willed child, who was a source of great annoyance to him, through the incessant complaints made of her by his wife. Mr. Ellis did not like to have the serenity of his mind ruffled, even for the welfare of his children.

Between Sophy and her sister there existed no sympathy. Emily scarcely noticed her, unless to find fault, or assist Mrs. Ellis in her lectures. Now even the questionable interest which Mrs. Ellis had taken in her ceased, and in the utter indifference of all connected with her, it is not astonishing that her morbid sensitiveness should have increased.

Ashleigh was the only one who detected this trait of mind; and he strove, from time to time, by little acts of kindness, and delicately-marked approval, to break down the barrier of reserve between them. This interest in her, though it failed to produce any increase of cordiality, or even to elicit a consciousnes of its existence, on

the part of the sensitive girl, was not unfelt by, elected a member of Congress, and intending to her. Amid opposing feelings, the offspring of take his wife and eldest daughter with him to treasured resentment, and involuntary admira- | Washington to spend the winter, it was decided tion and esteem, there sprung unnoticed, like a wild flower in some neglected nook, a sentiment of deep gratefulness in her young heart, which shed its brightness and its balm on all around. In early youth to feel that we are valued, to receive discriminating praise, possesses an irre-autumn-that golden season of our climatesistible charm to us, particularly if surrounded by those who are careless and indifferent. It was thus with Sophy, and, unconsciously, the opinions, tastes, and sentiments of Ashleigh, became her standards of right and wrong. It would have been a curious study at this time, to watch the unfoldings of mind in this neglected girl. Heretofore to read for the sake of improvement never occurred to Sophy. She read, because she had an intense thirst for books; and though day by day the stores, which she was silently laying up, did their work in enlarging her understanding, there was no impulse from without to incite or guide her in her inental progress. Now that impulse was given. Sophy possesed a capacity which, in its yearnings after everything that was good and exalted, led her fully to appreciate Ashleigh's superiority | and cultivation of mind. The books he commended she privately read; the accomplishments he valued she industriously cultivated; while the subjects which, from time to time, occupied his mind and conversation, became to her secret objects of inquiry and interest. Sophy was, in short, one of those frequent, though unnoticed examples of marked character, developed and moulded by accidental circumstances.

that the family should remain at the country place until it was time to repair to the seat of government, in order to avoid the trouble to make the necessary arrangements in the townhouse. So that, to Sophy's great delight, the was to be passed among the scenes she loved so well; and never did the woods, gorgeous in their drapery of tinted leaves, the clear, blue skies, shining in immeasurable distance through the elastic atmosphere, the sparkling waters, and the rejoicing earth, mirror their beauties in a soul more kindred with their own.

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Towards sunset, one evening late in November, as Ashleigh was walking up and down the piazza at the back of the house, he saw Sophy, wrapped in a shawl, approaching the house on her return from a walk. He went forward to meet her, with some jesting remark upon her fondness for solitude. Sophy was shy and silent as usual, and Ashleigh seemed vexed at her taciturnity. At length he saidSophy, do you not mean to congratulate me?"

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"Congratulate you! upon what?"

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Why, have they not told you?" he asked, in a tone of surprise.

"No, they have told me nothing."

"Not that your sister is engaged to be married?"

"Emily engaged to be married!" she exclaimed, in a tone of unfeigned astonishment.

"Yes, Sophy, Emily is about to give you a brother, who hopes to win your regard and confidence," and he took Sophy's hand.

Sophy looked at him for an instant, then withdrawing her hand, and blushing deeply, she said, with much embarrassment—“You have surprised me very much."

"But I have your good wishes, Sophy, have I not? I assure you I build a great deal upon the affection of my little sister, and cannot dispense with it."

own room.

"What a shy, reserved child she is!" exclaimed Ashleigh, as she disappeared.

Too little attention is paid to the influence which mind possesses over mind, in early youth. If the secrets of all hearts were laid bare, how many should we find whose promptings, either to good or evil, have been the result of acci- "O yes, certainly," she replied, hastily, for dental companionship? We have seen that it they had now reached the house, and leaving was thus with Sophy. Previously to the event-him abruptly, she flew quickly up-stairs to her ful day when she received Ashleigh's grave rebuke, she had exhibited little else than waywardness of will, and obstinacy of character; but those few simple words of reproof had gleamed like a flash of lightning into the inner depths of her mind, and laid it bare before her. The rock was struck, and where all before was dry and lifeless, the waters of truth and selfknowledge welled forth. "Tis true that Sophy's judgment, as it ripened, must have corrected her most glaring defects; but the sudden glimpse caught of herself in the mirror of another's mind, did the work of years, and stamped her character for life.

But little occurred during the summer to change the aspect of things in Mr. Ellis's family, save a more obvious devotion on the part of Ashleigh to Emily. Mr. Ellis having been

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For some time Sophy sat immovable in her chair, her clasped hands resting in her lap, and her head sunk upon her bosom. There was a tumult of strange emotions awakened within her, that she found it impossible to ravel. Wise as she was beyond her years, in many respects, Sophy was, as yet, a novice in all that concerns the intricate windings of the human heart. She dreamed not that the last half-hour had crushed within her one of those latent preferences which, in time, might have ripened and influenced her whole existence. She knew not that her sister's shadow now fell between, and darkened for her the sunshine which for months had brightened her path. She thought that the flut

ter and agitation of her feelings were occasioned by surprise, and with one of those strong and vigorous mental efforts which her sex are so often called upon to make, she flung from her the heavy weight of oppression which she was too innocent to account for, and turned to her usual pursuits for employment, but not with the same results as formerly, for now there was a restlessness, a dissatisfaction, a desire for change, which she had never before experienced, and she longed for the time to come when she should go to Mrs. Montague's, at whose school she was to remain during the absence of her family.

Emily never spoke to Sophy of her engagement, for with the intuitive quickness of woman in all that concerns the affections, she had detected in Sophy the little germ of preference for Ashleigh, which lay hidden even from herself. There was, however, no tender, womanly compassion for her young sister elicited in the cold heart of Emily, by this discovery. Sophy, in her estimation, was a presumptuous, vain little chit, quite too forward for her years; and to check her boldness, in thus daring to lift her thoughts to the lover on whom she had condescended to smile, she preserved a scornful silence towards her. Mrs. Ellis spoke of it to Sophy; but it was as much to gratify her own love of talking, and to caution Sophy on the subject of secrecy with regard to the engage. ment-which was not to be announced till spring-as from any regard to her feelings.

The few weeks that were now to intervene before the opening of Congress soon passed by. The beginning of December found Mr. and Mrs. Ellis, and their eldest daughter, on their way to Washington, and Sophy quietly installed at school. Ashleigh, whose professional engagements detained him in Philadelphia, it was agreed, should visit his betrothed as often as possible during the winter.

The long winter months passed away unmarked by any unusual event, and the spring was at length come. One morning, about this time, Sophy was summoned to the parlour to see Mr. Ashleigh. He had come occasionally through the winter with messages and letters from her family, and she concluded that this visit was of a similar kind. When she entered the room, she was surprised to find Ashleigh awaiting her with a grave and troubled countenance. Sophy's first thought was, that some calamity had befallen her family, and she questioned him in alarm. He assured her that all

were well.

"Then, what is the matter?" she asked, still marking his unusual manner.

Ashleigh took from his pocket a letter, and handing it to her, said, "Read this, Sophy."

Sophy received the letter, and opened it with a nervous quickening of her pulses, as she perceived that the letter was from her sister.

In a few cold and unfeeling words, Emily informed Ashleigh that she had been for some time aware that her regard for him was not of a nature to warrant her fulfilment of the engagement existing between them, and that, as she

intended to enter into one more congenial to her feelings, she begged to release him from the tie. The letter dropped from Sophy's hand, and she burst into tears.

"Is it not a cruel letter?" asked Ashleigh, as he paused in his rapid walk across the room. "Cruel? O most unworthy, heartless, sinful!"

Ashleigh now informed her that he had received by the same mail a letter from his aunt, who told him that Emily had been flirting during the whole winter with a southern gentleman, who had been one of the most prominent persons in society during the season, partly through the elegance of his person and manners, and partly through his reputation for great wealth. Mr. Gaythorn finally addressed her, and Emily informed her father of her acceptance of his proposal. Ashleigh did not repeat all the bitterness and indignation expressed by Mrs. Ellis; nothing but the commands of her husband having induced her to remain in Washington after she became acquainted with Emily's intentions. Mr. Ellis had sanctioned his daughter's conduct, and consented to her new engagement; and Mrs. Ellis added that she believed they were to be married as soon as the adjournment of Congress allowed them to return home.

Ashleigh continued to pace the room, giving vent to his indignant and wounded feelings; dwelling upon the sincerity and trustfulness of the affection which he had lavished upon Emily, and upon her cold and deliberate heartlessness. But when he spoke of the effect which this must have upon his mind and future happinesswhen he declared that Emily had rendered it impossible for him henceforth to believe in the truth and constancy of woman, Sophy, with a quick and impetuous movement, laid her hand upon his arm, and said, in a voice broken by emotion-" Oh! do not say so!-your love was unworthily placed! She did not appreciate you. She knew not how to value a love like yours. Do not say that all women would do the sameOh! no no!"

Ashleigh gazed upon the eloquent upturned face beside him with surprise at this burst of feeling; and as he looked into those deep eyes, which now glowed with truth and sensibility, and beheld for the first time the fervent energy of a high-hearted woman, breathing from that youthful countenance, he replied, with a deep sigh, "Well, Sophy, for your sake I will en deavour to think differently; nay, I believe that such treachery is foreign to your nature; and come what may, I shall never forget the kindness, the sympathy, which you have shown me this day;" and wringing her hand with a hasty farewell, he left her.

Before another month had elapsed, Mr. and Mrs. Ellis, and Emily, were again at home. Sophy, who had petitioned to be left with Mrs. Montague, was permitted to remain at school, and she was in consequence saved the pain of daily beholding her sister's heartless conduct. Emily's engagement to Ashleigh having never

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