Early marriages appear hereditary in that branch of the family, for Aunt Arminda was married at fifteen, and Theresa’s mother at fourteen; consequently, Aunt Arminda found herself a great-grandmother when some years short of sixty.

I said that Theresa lost her youngest child within the thirty days that elapsed between uncle’s and Aunt Mary’s deaths; but those were not the only bereavements in our family that sad winter; before the spring came, Theresa’s father and a little girl, our cousin Victoria’s child, had also died.

Theresa’s beauty is not the true Greeley type—­blonde, with blue eyes.  Her complexion is somewhat like her grandmother’s—­a delicate olive with an exquisite flush, when in health.  The contour of her face is a perfect oval; her eyes are dark and pensive, and although her hair is almost golden in its brightness, both her eyebrows and lashes are of a dark chestnut brown.  In figure she is, as I said, very petite; she and I are the two “little ones” of the family.

Theresa displays considerable taste for literature; and, notwithstanding the demand that her children made upon her time, has written some romantic stories that have been published in New York journals.

She has a bright little brother, and three sisters—­Fannie, Jessie, and Lillian; all pretty and clever children.  Fannie, who is now only fourteen, will, I hope, when older, become a graceful poetess; for the verses that she has already had published under her pretty signature, “Fannie Fawn,” are very musical, and promise well for the future.

CHAPTER XIX

Mr. Greeley visits his Family in Pennsylvania—­He expounds Mathematics and Philosophy to his Brother and Sisters—­Fishing and Bee Hunting—­Forest Fires—­A Subsequent Visit—­He returns as Editor of the New Yorker—­He writes the ’Faded Stars’—­Characteristics of Mr. Greeley’s Brother—­His Children—­Mr. Greeley’s Younger Sisters—­Their Education.

August 9.

“Mamma,” said Marguerite, looking up from the tea-table where we were all assembled, “did uncle visit you often in Pennsylvania?  I suppose so, for I know what an affectionate family you wore, and how very fond he was of his parents.”

“He visited us as often as he could,” replied mamma, “but you know that the distance was great, and during the four years that he spent in Poultney, his time was not at his command.  I can only remember two visits that he made us during that period; each one, however, lasted a month.

“It was, I think, during our second year in the woods that he came home for the first time.  I well remember, after the first joy of the reunion was over, examining his trunk to see what books he had brought with him.  Those that I found there were quite different from what many boys of seventeen would have chosen, when going home for a vacation.  I do not recollect meeting any books of adventure or romance; but works upon the higher mathematics and philosophy were there to show that dear brother’s education was by no means at a standstill, although he was working hard to earn his own living.