Tempest and Sunshine | Page 5

surely
nothing could have been more unlike than their personal appearance, as
they sat side by side at the supper table. Julia was about seventeen
years of age and was called very handsome, for there was something
peculiarly fascinating in the ever-varying expression of her large black
eyes. She was a brunette, but there was on her cheek so rich and
changeable a color that one forgot in looking at her, whether she were
dark or light. Her disposition was something like her complexion--dark
and variable. Her father was a native of South Carolina, and from him
she inherited a quick, passionate temper. At times she was as gentle as
a lamb, but when anything occurred to trouble her, all her Southern
blood boiled up, and she was as Fanny said, "always ready to fire up at
a moment's warning." Mr. Middleton called her "Tempest," while to
Fanny he gave the pet name of "Sunshine," and truly, compared with
her sister, Fanny's presence in the house was like a ray of sunshine.
She was two years younger than Julia and entirely different from her,
both in looks and disposition. Her face was very pale and her bright
golden hair fell in soft curls around her neck and shoulders, giving her
something the appearance of a fairy. Her eyes were very large and very
dark blue, and ever mirrored forth the feelings of her soul.
By the servants Julia was feared and dreaded; but Fanny was a favorite
with all. Not a man, woman or child on the plantation but was ready to
do anything for "darling Miss Fanny." And they thought, too, every one
must love her as well as they did, for they said "she showed by her face
that she was an angel." This was the opinion of the blacks, and it was

also the partially formed opinion of Mr. Wilmot before he finished his
supper; and yet he could not help thinking there was something
wondrously attractive in the glance of Julia's large, dark eyes.
After supper he tried to engage the girls in conversation in order to
ascertain which had the better mind. He found Fanny most ready to
converse. She had forgotten her resolution not to talk, and before the
evening was half spent seemed perfectly well acquainted with him. She
had discovered that his name was Richard, that he had a sister Kate,
who called him Dick, that he was as yet possessor of his own heart, but
was in danger of losing it! The compliment Fanny very generously
gave to her sister Julia, because she observed that Mr. Wilmot's eyes
were often directed toward the corner where the dark beauty sat, silent
and immovable.
Julia had taken but little part in the conversation and Mr. Wilmot's
efforts to "draw her out" had proved ineffectual. She felt piqued that
Fanny should engross so much attention and resolved on revenge; so
she determined to show Mr. Wilmot that she could talk but not upon
such silly subjects as pleased Fanny. Accordingly, when books were
mentioned, she seemed suddenly aroused into life. She was really very
intelligent and a very good scholar. She had a great taste for reading,
and what books she could not prevail on her father to buy, she would
borrow, so she had a tolerably good knowledge of all the standard
works. Mr. Wilmot was surprised and pleased to find her so well
informed and in the spirited conversation which followed poor Fanny
was cast entirely into the background.
Fanny, however, attributed it to her sister's superior knowledge of Latin,
and inwardly "thanked her stars" that she knew nothing of that
language further than the verb Amo, to love. The practical part of that
verb she understood, even if she did not its conjugation. She sat quietly
listening to Mr. Wilmot and her sister, but her cogitations were far
different from what Julia's had been.
Fanny was building castles--in all of which Mr. Wilmot and Julia were
the hero and heroine. She gazed admiringly at her sister, whose face
grew handsomer each moment as she became more animated, and she

thought, "What a nice-looking couple Julia and Mr. Wilmot would
make! And they would be so happy, too--that is if sister didn't get angry,
and I am sure she wouldn't with Mr. Wilmot. Then they would have a
nicer house than this old shell, and perhaps they would let me live with
them!"
Here her reverie was interrupted by Mr. Wilmot, who asked her if she
ever studied Latin. Fanny hesitated; she did not wish to confess that she
had once studied it six months, but at the end of that time she was so
heartily tired of its "long-tailed verbs," as she called them, that she had
thrown her grammar out of the