Woman As She Should Be | Page 6

the great astonishment, and even displeasure of her relatives, she
gently but firmly declined all invitations to balls, or gay parties, refused
to attend the theatre, and, to her friends' earnest expostulations and
inquiries as to the reasons for such a course, declared 'that she had, at
length, become convinced of the vanity and sinfulness of such pursuits,
and no longer dared to peril her immortal interests by engaging in
them.'"
"But, Edward Lincoln, how does he approve of this strange alteration?"
inquired Arthur, in a tone which, in spite of himself, could not conceal
his evident interest.
"Oh, poor Edward has been discarded long ago."
"Discarded! What do you mean, Ella, that she has broken her
engagement with him?"
"Yes; or, rather, they mutually agreed in the matter, and thereby caused

fresh disappointment to Agnes's friends, whose opposition has risen to
such a height, that I believe they have almost threatened to expel her
from home."
"Barbarous!" exclaimed Arthur, hastily, his eye flashing with
indignation. "But I suspect they would hardly carry that threat into
effect. And what reason was assigned for the breaking of the
engagement?"
"Oh, nothing more than non-agreement of sentiment. When I was
reasoning with Agnes about it, one day, she said to me, 'How can two
walk together except they be agreed? I grant, dear Ella, that Mr.
Lincoln is all you have said, handsome, intelligent, and possesses many
estimable qualities; but these qualities, to be permanent, must be based
on principles drawn from the Word of Truth. Do not think, my friend,
that it was without a struggle I have resigned him. No, the conflict was
long and bitter; but I was enabled, at last, to yield to my convictions of
duty. And, indeed, he himself has confessed, that whatever I might
have done once, I should never have suited him now. Our views are
diametrically opposed; the gayeties of life, which I have gladly
resigned, he still takes delight in, and when I have endeavored feebly,
but earnestly, to lead him to seek for more enduring joys, his only reply
is a merry laugh at my enthusiasm, which, he predicts, will soon
evaporate. No, Ella, there is little in unison between us, and it is far
better to break our engagement now, than to find, when too late, that
we had entered into a union productive of misery to us both.'"
"Agnes is certainly a singular girl," said Arthur, musingly.
"Oh, but I have not told you all. She has been a Sabbath-school teacher,
has established a day school for poor children, which she superintends,
and there is no fear of her tempting a gentleman to take a glass of wine,
for last, but not least, she has become a teetotaller. There, what think
you of that? and yet, I do not know how it happens, but in spite of her
singular ways, I seem to like her better than ever. There is nothing in
her manner that indicates a consciousness of superior merit, but she is
so truly kind, and her countenance wears so peaceful and heavenly an
expression, that I can never weary of gazing at her, and in my sober

moods, which occur once or twice in a twelvemonth, have some idea of
following her example. And now, Arthur," Ella added playfully, "if
Miss Wiltshire comes not up to your standard of female excellence, I
should despair of ever finding one that did."
Arthur was about to reply, but was interrupted by the announcement of
a visitor. Slightly annoyed, for he had become really interested in the
conversation, and, resolving to slip away the first convenient
opportunity, he turned to salute the lady, whose name he had not heard,
when, Ella's exclamation of surprise and pleasure fell on his ear.
"Why, Agnes, have you came at last? I almost thought I was never to
see you again. I called twice, but you were out."
"Yes, I was very sorry, but a particular engagement called me from
home."
"Arthur, have you forgotten your old friend, Miss Wiltshire?" inquired
Ella of her brother, who was waiting an opportunity to address her.
"It would be a difficult task to do that," was the reply, while the cordial
clasp of the hand and kindly tone, told how pleasant was that meeting
to one of the party at least. "You should rather have inquired if Miss
Wiltshire had forgotten me, which is far more probable."
"I never forget my friends," said Agnes, with a slight emphasis on the
word friends.
"And to be numbered among Miss Wiltshire's friends, I consider no
ordinary privilege," was Arthur's reply, as he insisted on her occupying
an easy chair by the blazing fire, which the clear but chilly air of
autumn rendered indispensable to comfort.
"I am afraid you have