When he was in his twenty-first
year, his father, the Deacon,--being urged thereto by the failing health
of his overtasked wife,--adopted as half daughter, half serving maid, a
beautiful and friendless girl, who might otherwise have gone to ruin.
Her name was plain Hannah Lee. No name can be imagined too liquid, sweet
and voluptuous in its sound to typify her loveliness. It was not
strange, therefore, that she had not been long in the house before Jason
Fletcher, hitherto deprived of much cheerful female society, felt
stealing over him a new and strange excitement of mingled joy and
wonder. It is trite and tame to say that for him there came new flowers
in all the fields and by all the road-sides, and a hitherto unknown
fragrance in the balmy air; rosier colors to the sunset, softer tints to
the yellow gray east at dawn, brighter sparkle to the brooks, breezier
glories to the mountain-tops; but, doubtless, this was strictly true, as
it has been many times before and since to many other men, but scarce
ever accompanied by so great and complete a change.
His father might have expected it, and his mother have reckoned upon it,
but no thought of love in connection with their quiet and awkward son
ever entered into their minds, and so they put this sweet creature into
the youth's way, not reflecting that only one result--on his side, at
least--could follow.
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