Thus the hut and the hall perched upon opposite hills, looked each other
in the face across the wooded valley. And both belonged to the same vast
plantation--the largest in the county. The morning was indeed delicious,
the earth everywhere springing with young grass and early flowers; the
forest budding with tender leaves; the freed brooks singing as they ran;
the birds darting about here and there seeking materials to build their
nests; the heavens benignly smiling over all; the sun glorious; the air
intoxicating; mere breath joy; mere life rapture! All nature singing a
Gloria in Excelsis! And now while the sisters saunter leisurely on,
pausing now and then to admire some exquisite bit of scenery, or to
watch some bird, or to look at some flower, taking their own time for
passing through the valley that lay between the hut and the hall, I must
tell you who and what they were.
Hannah and Leonora Worth were orphans, living alone together in the hut
on the hill and supporting themselves by spinning and weaving.
Hannah, the eldest, was but twenty-eight years old, yet looked forty;
for, having been the eldest sister, the mother-sister, of a large
family of orphan children, all of whom had died except the youngest,
Leonora,--her face wore that anxious, haggard, care-worn and prematurely
aged look peculiar to women who have the burdens of life too soon and
too heavily laid upon them. Her black hair was even streaked here and
there with gray. But with all this there was not the least trace of
impatience or despondency in that all-enduring face. When grave, its
expression was that of resignation; when gay--and even she could be gay
at times--its smile was as sunny as Leonora's own. Hannah had a lover as
patient as Job, or as herself, a poor fellow who had been constant to
her for twelve years, and whose fate resembled her own; for he was the
father of all his orphan brothers and sisters as she had been the mother
of hers. Of course, these poor lovers could not dream of marriage; but
they loved each other all the better upon that very account, perhaps.
Lenora was ten years younger than her sister, eighteen, well grown, well
developed, blooming, beautiful, gay and happy as we have described her.
She had not a care, or regret, or sorrow in the world. She was a bird,
the hut was her nest and Hannah her mother, whose wings covered her.
These sisters were very poor; not, however, as the phrase is understood
in the large cities, where, notwithstanding the many charitable
institutions for the mitigation of poverty, scores of people perish
annually from cold and hunger; but as it is understood in the rich lower
counties of Maryland, where forests filled with game and rivers swarming
with fish afford abundance of food and fuel to even the poorest hutters,
however destitute they might be of proper shelter, clothing, or
education.