JOHN JAMES AUDUBON. 



that Mr. Bake well was from home. I was shown 

 into a parlor, where only one young lady was 

 snugly seated at work, with her back turned 

 towards the fire. She rose on my entrance, offered 

 me a seat, and assured me of the gratification her 

 father would feel on his return ; which, she ad'ded 

 with a smile, would be in a few minutes, as she 

 would send a servant after him. Other ruddy 

 cheeks made their appearance, but, like spirits gay, 

 vanished from my sight. Talking and working, 

 the young lady who remained made the time pass 

 pleasantly enough, and to me especially so. It 

 was she, rny dear Lucy Bakewell, who afterwards 

 became my wife, and the mother of my children." 



Mr. Bakewell soon returned, and lunch was 

 provided before leaving on a shooting expedition. 

 " Lucy rose from her seat a second time, and her 

 form, to which I had before paid little attention, 

 seemed radiant with beauty, and my heart and 

 eyes followed her every step. The repast being 

 over, guns and dogs were provided, and as we left 

 I was pleased to believe that Lucy looked upon me 

 as a not very strange animal. Bowing to her, I 

 felt, I knew not why, that I was at least not 

 indifferent to her." 



Thus was begun a beautiful affection that ran 

 like a thread of gold through the darkness and 

 light of two struggling lives. The friendship 

 increased as the months went by, for the youth, 

 alone in a strange country, devoted to his foster- 

 mother, needed a woman's love and tenderness to 



