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I have to apologize to you, sir, for not keeping you
in “Needles,” and I hope you will not say any thing
very naughty, because you have not heard from me so
long. I have been traveling, and could not devote any
time to my pen. You know that it is the custom for
planters to leave their homes for the summer months,
and tour it; and, being governess, I, of course, accompanied
our family, in order to keep up my pupils in their
books, though little book was learned, be assured, either
at the mountains or the springs, for young folks have
too much to tempt them at these places to con lessons.

After a pleasant summer jaunt, we are once more in
our lovely home, and I trust I shall be able to continue
to write you in my leisure. Perhaps, one of these days,
I may give you a description of our three months in the
Mountains of Cumberland, and at the Springs of Virginia.
I will now resume my “Needles” where I left
off, which, perhaps, you will remember was when I had
just shut up my village school, and broken the seal of
a letter handed to me by a strange gentleman in a carriage.
The letter was as follows, written by the super-intendent
of the State Normal School:—

Normal School.
Dear Miss Conyngham:

The bearer is Colonel Peyton, a planter of intelligence
and fortune, who wishes a governess, who will be

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charged with the education of his daughter. The position
seems to be a very desirable one, and I would recommend
you to accept it, if he should, after seeing you,
offer it to you.

Upon reading this epistle, I looked up and saw the
eyes of both Colonel Peyton and his daughter fixed upon
my face, as if trying to divine the effect it had upon me.
The gentle eyes of the maiden, who looked earnestly at
me, as if she hoped I was not going to say “no,” and
the gentlemanly, agreeable manners, and the fine expression
of the father's face, decided me at once. “If the
place is offered to me,” said I, mentally, “I will not
refuse it. I know I shall be happy with such persons
as these.” Yet I hesitated and could not speak; for I
thought of my little pupils, some of whom had entwined
themselves around my heart; and I felt reluctant to
leave them.

While I was thinking between hope and sorrow what
answer I should make—an answer that would perhaps
govern my future destiny—Colonel Peyton was pleased
to say kindly:

“I fear, Miss, that you are going to disappoint us.
The high terms in which you have been spoken of to me,
are confirmed by seeing you. Are you willing to accept
the situation alluded to in the letter?”

I hesitated. My eyes filled with tears—tears at the
thought of parting with my school—tears of gratitude,
that I was thought worthy of so much confidence.

“Oh, do not refuse—do say yes,” cried his lovely

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daughter, extending her hand, and clasping mine warmly
in her own. “You shall be my eldest sister, and I will
make you as happy as I can. Please, say you will go
with us.”

“I cannot refuse,” said I, smiling at her enthusiasm.
“If your father wishes, I give my consent,” answered
I, without a thought about terms: for I felt that I could
be happy to be one of the inmates of the family, and
call such excellent persons “friends.” My heart seemed
to feel like a daughter's heart towards Colonel Peyton,
and certainly glowed with sisterly love towards Isabel.

“The matter is settled, then,” said Colonel Peyton,
with animation. “We are more fortunate than we anticipated.
Come, Miss Katharine, let me drive you to
your residence, and then leave you to make preparations,
while we remain at the hotel.”

When I alighted from the chariot at the door of the
house in which I boarded, there were a great many heads
at the neighboring windows, to see the fine “Boston
carriage,” as they called it; and when they soon learned,
by the cries of three or four little girls, my scholars, that
it had come to take me far away to the South, there was
more commotion than I dreamed such a body as I could
cause.

When I made known to my landlady and to the neighbors,
who flocked in to hear the news, my prospects,
some congratulated me, but more said they would not
part with their “school-mistress,” that it would break
the children's hearts; and the children, inspired by their
words, began to cling round me, and take on so dreadfully,
that I was near sending over word to the tavern

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to Colonel Peyton, withdrawing my consent to go with
him.

In half an hour I succeeded in convincing the most
zealous of my friends, that it would be greatly to my
advantage to go with the Southern family, and, by bed-time,
all opposition, save in the form of a lovely little
lame scholar of mine, was appeased. This child, to
which I was very much attached, would not leave the
house to go to its home, but, creeping up stairs, clung to
my pillow, and bathed it in tears. Her little prayers of
entreaty had nearly conquered me. The result of all
was, however, that the succeeding afternoon, I bade farewell
to all my village friends, and left the town by the
road passing the school-house. Here, to my surprise,
and to the increase of my grief, I found all my scholars,
some forty in number, drawn up to see me for
the last time. They had reached the school-house by a
path across the fields. Colonel Peyton stopped the carriage,
and every one climbed up to kiss me—some putting
wreaths upon my head, and others placing in my
hands little tokens to remember them by.

“Don't forget me, Miss Kate!” cried a score of little
voices. “We'll never forget you, Miss Kate!” called
out others, as we once more drove on. My little, lame
pupil was not among them, for I had left her sobbing as
if her heart would break, up stairs on my bed. As the
carriage turned and hid the town, we heard a shout of
“Good-bye, Miss Kate! Good-bye! Come back again,
won't you?”

Their voices no longer heard, I gave vent to my feelings
in a gush of tears. Colonel Peyton did not disturb

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them. Isabel nestled her hand in mine, and I felt her
tears dropping warm upon it.

The same evening, we reached Boston, and in a few
days afterwards were en route to the West, by the way
of Philadelphia and Pittsburg.

I will not detain you by describing our journey, but
close this letter by saying, that after a delightful trip of
three weeks, we reached the elegant, interior city of
Nashville, from which a ride of two hours and a half
brought Colonel Peyton and his daughter home, and me
to what will be “a home” for me two years to come.

In my next, I will resume the description of things in
the West, which I have interrupted to give you the history
of my first coming thither.

p613-055

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