Harland_Alone.txt topic ['13', '324', '378', '393']

CHAPTER L

THE Sermon was over ; the funeral psalm chanted brokenly,
by reason of quick-drawn sobs, and bursts of tender remem-
brance; the heart's tribute to the memory of the departed.
" The services will be concluded at the grave," pronounced the
clergyman in an unwilling voice ; and a shuddering awe fell,
as it ever does, upon all. " The Grave !" Even in the presence
of the sheeted dead, listening to the rehearsal of excellences
lost to earth, set as living stars in a firmament of unchanging
splendor ; we cannot comprehend the dread reality of bereave-
ment. Earth smiles the same ; familiar faces surround us ;
and if the absence of one is painfully noted, the soul would
fain delude itself with the belief 'that his departure is not
forever; " he is not dead, but sleepeth.'* But the Grave 1"
These two words convey an irrevocable sentence. We feel for
the first time the extent of the 'gulf that separates us from the
clay, beloved, although inanimate ; the dissevering of every
bond of companionship. For us the earth has, as before, its
griefs, its joys and 'its duties ; for the dear one but a grave !
The story of "a life is ended there. The bearers advanced and
'took up the. coffin. They were no hired officials, performing
their work with ill-concealed indifference, or faces robed in
borrowed lugubriousness ; but old family servants, who had
sported with the deceased in infancy ; faithfully served her in
later years, and had now solicited and obtained this mournful
privilege. Tears coursed down their dusky cheeks as they
lifted their burden and bore it forth from the portal which
seemed to grow darker, as she, the light of the dwelling, quitted
it, to return no more. They wound through the flowery labyrinth
whose mazes were her care and delight. The dews of evening
1* (5)

6 ALONE.

were beginning to descend upon the thirsting petals, and in the
breezeless air hung, in an almost visible cloud, the grateful
return of spicy and languishing odors. A tall rose tree drooped
over the path, and as the bearers brushed by its stem, a shower,
like perfumed snow-flakes, lay . upon the pall. The end of the
journey was- reached j a secluded and beautiful spot in the lower
part of the garden, where were many mounds clustered together
graves of a household. A weeping willow, years before, a
little shoot, planted by the hand of the wife to mark her
husband's resting-place, now grown into a stately tree, swept its
feathery pendants above her pillow. The cords were lashed
around the coffin, and the word given to lower it into the pit ;
when with a shriek that chilled the blood of the bystanders
a slight figure darted forward, and clasped it in her arms.
" Mother ! oh mother ! come back !" Men of iron nerve bowed
in childlike weakness, and wept, as this desolate cry rent the air.
She spoke not another word, but lay, her cheek to the . cold
wood, enclosing the colder form, and her fingers interlocked in a
vice-like grasp. " Ida ! my child I" said the old minister,
bending to raise her ; " She is not here. She is with her God.
Can you wish her. again upon this sinful earth 1" His consola-
tion was addressed to an ear as dull as that of the corpse. In
that outburst of frenzied supplication, consciousness had left her.
" It is best so I" said the venerable man. " She could not have
borne it else.'

The ceremony was concluded " dust to dust ashes to
ashes " and the crowd turned sorrowfully away. It was not
in pity for the orphan alone. There were none there who could
not recount some deed of love or charity done by her, whom
they had given to the earth. Since the deaths of a fondly loved
partner and three sweet children, Mrs. Ross had sought balm
for her wounds, by binding up those of others. Environed by
neighbours, whose position and means were more humble than
her own, she had ample exercise for her active benevolence ;
benevolence evincing itself, not in studied graciousness and
lavish almsgiving, but in kindly sympathy, and those name-
less offices of friendship, so easily rendered, so dear to the reci-
pient. Her children shall rise up and call her blessed," was
the text of her funeral discourse, and the pastor but uttered the

ALONE. 7

feelings of his auditory, when he called the community in which
her blameless life had been passed, her family loving her, and
through her, united together in bonds of fraternal affection. In
this genial clime, had Ida Koss been nurtured ; beloved for her
mother's sake, as for the warm impulses of her generous nature ;
petted and indulged; yet obeying the least expression of her
parent's wishes, not in -slavish fear, but^a devotion amounting to
worship. She had no companions of her own age who were her
equals in education or refinement, and from intimate connection
with vulgarity she shrank instinctively. Her pride was not
offensively displayed. No one could live in the sphere of which
Mrs. Koss was the ruling power and feel aught like supercilious-
ness or contempt of inferiors. From infancy, Ida was her mo-
ther's companion; at an early age her confidante'and co-adviser;
had read her pure heart as a richly illuminated missal, from
which self-examination and severe criticism had expunged what-
ever could sully or. disfigure. Can we marvel that she shrined
her in her heart of hearts as ateing moro than human scarcely
less than divine ?

That mysterious Providence who guides the fowler's messen-
ger of death to the breast of the parent bird, leaving the callow
nestling to perish with hunger, recalled the mother's spirit ere
her labor of love was completed. Ida was an orphan in her fif-
teenth year ; the age of all others when a mother's counsels are
needed; when the child stands tremblingly upon the thres-
hold of girlhood, and looks with wondering, wistful eyes into the
rosy vista opened to her sight. Babes in knowledge, nine girls
out of ten are grown in heart at fifteen. A stroke, whether of
extraordinary joy or sorrow, will oftentimes demolish the gew-
gaws of the child, and reveal instead, the patient endurance, the
steady faith, the all-absorbing love of a woman. A week had
passed a week devoted by the bereaved to thoughts of, and
weepings for the lost, by others to preparations for her residence
among strangers. Years might elapse before her return. That
night, as stealthily as though seeking a forbidden spot, she trod
the path to her mother's grave. It was clear starlight, and she
Bat down beside the newly sodded mound, and rested her brow
upon it. Cold cold and hard ! but it entombed her mother ;
aye ! and her heart ! for what had she to love now ? There was

8 ALONE.

no loving breast to receive that aching head ; no solace for the
wounded spirit. The dew-gems lay freshly upon the grass ;
for her the dewiness of life was gone ; earth was one vast sepul-
chre. She looked up to the stars. In the summer evenings her
mother's chair used to stand in the piazza, and she sat at her
feet, her eyes fixed alternately upon her angelic face, and the
shining orbs above them. Mrs. Ross loved to think of them as
the abodes of the blest ; the ^mansions prepared for those who
had sojourned in this sin -stained world and yet worn their white
robes unblemished; and the theory was confidently adopted by
the imaginative child. She drank in descriptions of the glories
of those celestial regions until her straining eyes seemed to catch
a glimpse of a seraph's glittering robe, and she leaned breath-
lessly forward to hear the music of his golden harp. But to-
night the sparkling smiles of those effulgent ones, " forever sing-
ing as they shine," were changed to pitying regards as they
beheld her so sad and lonely; the gleam of the seraph's wings
was dimmed j his far-off melody plaintive and low, and the bur-
den of his song was " alone." The wind waved the willow-
boughs, and a whispering ran through the leaves " Alone
alone !" The words were so audibly breathed that the girl
started in her delirious sorrow, and gazed wildly around. " Oh
mother ! cannot you leave Heaven for one short minute to com-
fort your child? "Who will love her now? Alone, all alone 1
mother ! dear mother 1"

ALONE.

CHAPTER II

Two persons sat in the parlor of a handsome house situated
in a pleasant street of the capital of our Old Dominion. The
afternoon of a summer's day was deepening into twilight, but the
waning light sufficed to show the features of the occupants.
There was no hazard in pronouncing them father and daughter.
The square forehead, indicative rather of keenness of perception
and shrewd sense, than high intellectual faculties ; the full, grey
eye ; flexible lips, and heavily moulded chin were the same in
both, although softened in the younger, until her face might
have been deemed pretty, had the observer omitted to remark an
occasional steel-like spark, struck from the clear eyes, and a com-
pression of the mouth, betokening a sleeping demon whom it
would be dangerous to arouse from his lair. A turbulent light
flashed there now. She had thrown herself into the corner of a
sofa, after many restless wanderings through the apartment, and the
shapely foot, oscillating rapidly, beat with its toe, a tattoo agitato
upon the floor. Her father was immersed in thought or apathy.
She repeated a question in a voice which savored of peevishness,
before he withdrew his eyes from the watch-key, the twirling of
which had been his occupation for a quarter of an hour. "At
what hour will your ward arrive, sir ?"

" She must be here in a short time. They have travelled
slowly. The journey might have been accomplished as well in
one day, as two."

" You said her escort was a clergyman, I think. Gentlemen
of the cloth are not famous for inconveniencing themselves to
gratify others," responded the young lady. " They inveigh
against the emptiness and vanity of dublunary things ; yet I
know no class of men who enjoy 'creature comforts' more."

" Confounded humbugs !" was the rejoinder, and a muttered
something about " priest-craft " and " blind leaders of the blind "
finished the sentence so charitably begun.

Another pause was ended by the daughter. "Miss Ross'

10 ALONE.

father was an early friend of yours, a college chum, was he
not ?"

" He was, and a clever fellow into the bargain ;" said her
father, with a touch of feeling in his tone. " At his death, he
left to me the management of his child's property, (a snug
operation I have made of it, too !) In the event of the mother's
decease, I was appointed sole guardian, an office for which, it
must be said, I have little partiality. If Mrs. Ross had given
her up to me ten years ago, I might have made something of her;
but she said a mother was the proper guide for her daughter.
Women are wonderfully self-sufficient, always undertaking what
it would puzzle sensible men to do, and perfectly satisfied with
the style in which it is done." If there was any meaning in the
severity of this remark, the face and voice of the listener
betrayed no consciousness.

"How old is Miss Ross?"

"What is your age?" and seeing her hesitate "What does
the Family Bible say ? I want no school-girl airs."

" I am fifteen sir," raising her eyes coolly to his.

" And she is two months younger. A pretty time I sh ill
have for six years ; unless she takes it into her head to marry
before she is of age. Very probably she will ; for her fortune,
although small, is large enough to attract some fool, too lazy to
work, and too ambitious to remain poor."

"Is she pretty?"

" How should I know ? I only saw her at her mother's
funeral, where she got up quite a scene fainting and such like.
I came away the next day, and she was still too unwell to leave
her room, they said."

" Romantically inclined ! Pity she should be doomed to
uncongenial associations I"

" You would indeed have profited little by my instructions if
your mind were infected by these whimsies," said her parent,
with a self-gratulatory air. " I pride myself upon your
superiority to the generality of your sex, at least, in this re-
spect"

" There is a carriage at the door," interrupted the other, in an
unvarying tone, and without changing her posture. The host
met, in the entry, an elderly gentleman and a young girl, whom

ALONE. 11

he saluted as "Mr. Hall" and "Miss Boss," introducing them
to "Miss Read, my daughter." Ida glanced timidly into the
face of her guardian, and then hastily scanned that of his daugh-
ter. That the scrutiny was unsatisfactory, was to be read in the
deeper sadness that fell over her countenance, while the sinking
lashes, and trembling lip showedhow sharp was the disappoint-
ment. Youthful and inexperienced as she was, her heart told her
that the bruised tendrils which had been torn from their original
support could never learn to twine around these gelid statues.

" You will remain to tea, Mr. Hall," said Mr. Read, as the
good clergyman arose.

" I thank you, sir ; but our journey has been fatiguing owing
to the extreme heat. I find myself in need of rest, and my
charge here requires it more than I do."

" You will call before you leave the city. May we not hope
for the pleasure of your company to dinner to-morrow ?"

The invitation was accepted ; and after a silent pressure of
the hand from Ida, and a courtly bow from father and daughter,
Mr. Hall took his leave.

" Miss Ross would perhaps like to make some alteration in
her dress, Josephine," Mr. Read said; his manner testifying
how necessary he esteemed the proposed measure. Miss Read
rang for a light, and signified to Ida that she was ro-vly to show
her up stairs. Any change from the bleak fornuuiiy of their
presence was a relief; and she longed to be alone, if but for half
an hour, that she might give way to the emotions which had
been rising and beating, through the livelong day, choking and
blinding her. But Miss Read summoned a servant, whom she
ordered to wait upon Miss Ross, now and in future ; and seated
herself in a rocking-chair to watch the progress of the toilette.
Mechanically Ida went through the torture of dressing. There
are times when it is such ; when the manifold details, hereto-
fore so engaging, are to the -preoccupied and suffering mind,
like the thorn of the prickly-pear, too small to be observed, but
pricking burningly in every fibre and pore. It was a woman
a sister a girl as young as herself perhaps as tender-hearted,
who sat there. Why not, with the unrepressed sorrowfulness
of a child, bury her face in her lap, and sob, " I have lost my
mother!" to be fondled and comforted into composure? It

12 ALONE.

would be sacrilege to ruffle the elegant propriety of her figure ;
and the glassy eyes said, by their tearless stare, "Between
you and me there is a great gulf fixed!" One weakness Ida
could not overcome ; the repugnance to beholding herself in her
mourning garments. They as yet reminded her too vividly of
the bier and the pall. She averted her eyes, as she stood before
the mirror, to put the finishing stroke to her apparel. " I beg
your pardon," said the calm voice of Josephine. " Your collar
is all awry. Permit me" Ida submitted in silence, while
her volunteer assistant unpinned, and re-arranged the crape
folds, but as she gathered them under the mourning brooch,
a tear, large and pellucid, dropped upon her hand. It was but
a drop of salt water to Miss Read, and she wiped it off, as she
asked her guest " to walk down to tea." To the new-comer, the
palatable food was as the apples of Sodom bitter ashes. She
could not swallow or speak. Her companions ate and chatted
with great gusto. The ill-humour of an hour since had passed
away. This exemplary daughter was her father's idol, when
contrasted with other, and less favored girls. She was formed
in his image, and when the plastic mind was wax to receive, and
adamant to retain impressions, he moulded it after a pattern of
his own. He taught her deceit, under the name of self-control;
heartlessness, he called prudence; veiled distrust and misan-
thropy under clear-sightedness and knowledge of human nature.
All those holy and beautiful feelings which evidence to man his
kindred to his Divine model and Creator, he tossed aside, with
the sweeping condemnation " romance and nonsense I" The
crying sin was to be "womanish;" "woman" and "fool" were
synonymes, used indiscriminately to express the superlative of
ire-exciting folly. He delighted in showing things as they
were. Men were machines, moved by secret springs of policy
and knavery; the world a stage, viewed by others in the decep-
tive glare of artificial lights, and so made attractive. He had
penetrated into the mysteries behind the curtain, and examined,
in the unflattering day, the clumsy contrivances, gaudy daubing
and disgustful hollowness of the whole. Fancy and the pleasures
of imagination were empty, bombastic names; he would have
seen in Niagara only a sizeable fall, and " calculated," amidst
the rushing shout of its mighty waters, as to the number of

ALONE. 13

cotton-mills it would turn, and the thousands it would net him,
could he transport it, patent right secured, to Virginia. He tore
the cloud-covering from the storm-god's brow, and beheld a roar-
ing, vaporing giant, whose insane attacks might be warded off
by philosophical precautions, and discretion in the disposition of
lightning rods.

The party returned to the parlor. "You play, I presume,
Miss Ross?" said her guardian. Inexpressibly hurt by this
new proof of insensibility to her situation, Ida faltered an
excuse of fatigue and want of practice ; and with a very per-
ceptible shrug, he addressed his daughter. " What apology
have you, Josephine ?" She replied by going to the instrument,
but had just taken her seat, when the door opened to admit
three visitors two school-fellows of Miss Head's, and their
brother. " The Misses and Mr. Talbot" were presented in due
form to the stranger, who had risen to leave the room. Jose-
phine saw the movement, and arrested it by the introduction.
No attention was paid to her; and in the midst of the lively
conversation, she seized an opportunity to speak aside to Jose-
phine. " I wish to retire, if you please." Josephine started.
If not so measured, the tone was as haughty as hers, at. its
proudest pitch. With a word of apology to her guests, she led
the way into the hall, and lighted a lamp. Ida took it from
her. I will go up without you. Good night." She walked
up the staircase with a steady step, for she was. .followed by a
gaze of wonderment and anger; but when her chamber was
gained, she sprang through the door locked and double locked
it, and dashed herself upon the floor. A hurricane raged within
her grief, outraged feeling and desperation. The grave had
gorged her past, black walls of ice bounded the future. Mean-
while the sound of jocund voices came up through the flooring;
bursts of laughter ; and then music ; brilliant waltzes and tri-
umphant marches, to where the orphan lay sobbing, not weeping,
with hysterical violence ; her hands clenched upon her temples,
through which each convulsion sent a pang that forced from her
a moan of anguish.

" She is a weak, foolish baby ! it will take an immensity of
schooling to make her endurable ;" said Mr. Head, when the
ic.

2

14 ALONE.

" She has temper enough, in all conscience I" rejoined Jose-
phine, and she related the scene preceding her withdrawal.

"Bad! bad!" ejaculated the senior, with a solemn shake of
the head. I admire spirit in a girl ; but a woman should have
no temper I"

CHAPTEK III.

IN a crowded school-room, on a glorious October morning, a
student was penning, with slow and heavy fingers, an Italian
exercise. A physiognomist's eye would have wandered with
comparative carelessness over the faces, so various in feature
and character by which she was surrounded, and found m
hers, subject for curious speculation; wondering at the contra-
dictory evidence her countenance and form gave of her age ; the
one, sombre in its thoughtfulness, its dark eyes piercing through
his, into his soul, said twenty perhaps thirty the lithe figure
and rounded limbs, sixteen ; but most, he would have marvelled
at the listlessness of her attitude ; the lack of interest in her
occupation and external objects, when every line, in brow, eyes
and mouth, bespoke energy; a spirit strong to do or dare; and
which, when in arms, would achieve its purpose, or perish in the
attempt. The hand moved more and more, sluggishly, and the
page was marred by blots and erasures., Thought had the
crayon, and dark were the shades that fell upon the canvass.
" Seventeen to-day ! "Who remembers that it is my birth-day ?
There are none here to know or care. If I were to die to-mor-
row, there is not a creature who would shed a tear above my
corpse. I wish I could die ! They say such thoughts are
sinful, but annihilation is preferable to an aimless, loveless
existence. Oh ! this intolerable aching, yearning for affection
it is eating into my soul ! gnawing, insatiable longing ! can
I not quiet you for an instant ? I have intellect genius so
says the world. I have sacrificed to knowledge, reason and
poesy; praying, first, for happiness, then comfort, then forget.

ALONE. 15

fulness to oast myself down, the same heart-sick, famished
creature ! Our examination was an imposing affair. The elite
of intelligence and fashion honored us with their presence. The
prizes for which others had expended sleepless nights and toil-
some days, were for me, who had scarcely put forth an effort ;
and as the music swelled out to celebrate my victory blent
with the applause of my critics, my heart beat ! I had not felt
it before for a long, long time, and as. in a lightning flash, I
saw what I might what I would have been, had the sunshine
of love been continued to me. But the pitchy cloud rolled over
the dazzling opening, and I was again a stranded wreck upon a
barren shingle the wailing monotone of the deep in my ear. I
read to them, that a tile was once cast upon an acanthus root,
and the hardy plant thrust its arms in every direction, until
they felt the light, then coiled in spiral waves, to convert their
oppressor into a thing of beauty; and bade them recognize in
the Corinthian capital, an emblem of Truth, which had in all
ages owed much of its transcendent loveliness to the tyranny
that sought to stifle its growth ; and when I pointed to it as a
type of our national freedom, I was forced to stop, for snowy
handkerchiefs perfumed the air, and eager hands beat a rap-
turous ' encore ;' and I was reading a written lie ! for my
heart was dying puny and faded beneath its weight. Intel-
lect ! a woman's intellect ! I had rather be little Fanny Porter,
with her silly, sweet face, and always imperfect lessons, than
what I am. She has a father, mother, brothers, sisters, who
dote upon her. Nourished upon fondness, she asks love of all,
and never in vain. If I could dream my life away, I should be
content. I love to lock my door upon the real world, and unbar
the portals of my fairy palace my thought-realm. Those long
delicious reveries which melt so sweetly into my night-visions
and the blessed rainy days spent by Josephine in worsted work !
Yet all this is injurious I am enervating my mind destroying
every faoulty of usefulness. To whom can I be useful ! ' Do
your duty in your home' said the sermon last Sabbath. I
have no home no friends I am cut off from my species.
Tired of the world at seventeen ! weary of a life I may not
end ! Seventeen ! seventeen ! would it were seventy or seven I

16 ALONE.

I should be nearer my journey's end or once more a happy
child, nestling in my mother's bosom 1"

" Forgive me/' said a gentle voice, " but your exercise is not
finished, and it is near Signer Alboni's hour." The speaker
was the owner of the adjoining desk. As their eyes met, hers
beamed with sympathy and interest. Ida knew nothing of the
wretchedness expressed in her features, but she felt the agony
at heart, and taken unawares, she could not entirely repress
the tide that sprang to her lids at this unexpected kindness.
Ashamed of what she had been " schooled" to consider a weak-
ness, she lowered her head over her writing, until the long
curls hid her face. " Signer Alboni, young ladies !" called out
Mr. Purcell, the principal of the seminary. Ida surveyed the
unsightly sheet in dismay, but . there was no time for alteration,
and she repaired with the rest to the recitation-room.

Signor Alboni was a gaunt, bilious-looking Italian, whom a
residence of ten years in America had robbed of all national cha-
racteristics, except a fiery temper. The girls feared and disliked
him; but he was a popular and efficient teacher, and in virtue
of these considerations, Mr. Purcell was inclined to overlook
minor disadvantages. Ellen Morris, whose fun-making propen-
sities no rules or presence could restrain, soon set in circulation
a whispered report, that their "amiable professor had had a
severe return of dyspeptic symptoms since their last lesson;"
and " don't you think he has a queer taste ? They say his favor-
ite drink is a decoction of saffron, spiced with copperas! No
wonder he looks so like a piece of new nankeen." Then an
impromptu conundrum, pencilled upon a fly-leaf, went the rounds
of the class. " If a skeleton were asked to describe his sensa-
tions in one word, whose name would he pronounce ?" Black,
brown and sunny tresses were shaken, and smiling mouths
motioned, " We give it up." Ellen scribbled the answer,
All-bone-I."

It is a singular fact, that when one person is the unconscious
cause of amusement to others although ignorant of their ridi-
cule, he often experiences an odd feeling of displeasure with
himself and the whole world, a sudden fit of spleen, venting
itself upon those who richly deserve the wrath, which in his sane
moments, he acknowledges was unprovoked. It was impossible

ALONE. 17

for the signer to observe the laughing faces that sought refuge
behind open books and friendly shoulders, for he was occupied in
the examination of the pile of manuscripts laid upon his desk,
yet his brow was more and more wrinkled each second, and
when he spoke, his tone was, as Ellen afterwards described
" as musical as that of a papa lion, administering a parental
rebuke to his refractory offspring."

"Miss Porter!"

Poor Fanny's eyes started from their sockets, as she uttered a
feeble response.

" Receive your exercise," tearing it in half, and giving her the
fragments. " Remain after school-hours, and re-write it j also
prepare the next one in addition to your lesson for to-morrow.
Miss Morris, where do you purchase your ink?"

" Of Messrs. Politeness, Manners & Co.," she retorted, with
an innocent smile. "You never deal there, I believe, sir?"

"Silence!" vociferated the infuriated foreigner. "Rest as-
sured, Miss, I shall report your impertinence to Mr. Purcell.
Miss Carleton!" and Jda's neighbour replied. "I find no im-
portant errors in your theme, but your chirography lacks dignity
and regularity."

With a respectful courtesy, the paper and hint were received ;
and if a smile played around her mouth, as she contrasted her
delicate characters with the stiff, upright hand, in which the
corrections were made, he did not see it.

" You had some incontestable reason for omitting to write,
Miss Ross," with a sardonic grin; " into its nature I shall not
inquire, but plead guilty to curiosity to know the name of the
friend who did your work, and appended your name to his or
her elegant effort."

Ida was not of a disposition to brook insolence, and she an-
swered with spirit, " The exercise is mine, sir."

" By right -of possession, I suppose ?"

" It was written by myself."

" Do I believe you, when my eyes tell me this is neither your
hand-writing or style ? Who was your accomplice in this witty
deception ?"

" SIR !"

2*

18 ALONE.

" Who wrote this theme ?" he thundered, maddened by her
contempt.

I have told you / did. No one else has seen it."

You lie!"

With one lightning glance, she arose ; but he placed himself
between her and the door.

11 Let me pass !" she ordered.

" Signer Alboni !" said Miss Carleton, who had before endea-
vored to make herself heard, "I can certify to the truth of
Miss Koss' statement. I saw her commence and complete her
manuscript."

"Aha ! yet she says it has been seen only by herself. You
must tutor your witnesses more carefully. They convict, instead
of exculpate."

" If you hint at collusion between Miss Koss and myself, I
can say that we never exchanged a word until an hour since.
My desk adjoins hers ; it was this circumstance which furnished
me with the knowledge of her morning's occupation."

"I beg you will not subject yourself to further insult, upon
my account," interrupted Ida, whose figure had dilated and
heightened during the colloquy; then to him Once more I
command you to stand aside ! If you do not obey, I shall call
Mr. Purcell." As if he had heard the threatened appeal, the
principal appeared in the doorway, in blank astonishment at the
novel aspect of affairs. Alboni commenced a hurried jargon,
inarticulate through haste and rage; Ida stood with folded arms,
her countenance settled in such proud scorn as Lucifer wouIU have
envied and striven to imitate. The prudent preceptor perceived
at a glance the danger of present investigation ; and abruptly
declaring the lesson concluded, appointed an hour on the morrow
for a hearing of the case. That evening, for. the first time in
many months, Ida voluntarily sought her guardian's presence.
Josephine was in her room, and he was left to the enjoyment of
solitude and the newspaper. He arose at the approach of his
visitant, and offered her a chair. In. these little matters of
etiquette, he was particular to punctiliousness; carrying his
business habits of law and order into every thing. The paper
was replaced upon the stand ; the spectacles wiped and returned

ALONE. 19

to their case ; and those matter-of-fact eyes raised \vith an inter-
rogative look.

" You have been informed of the altercation that occurred in
the Italian class to-day?" Ida said, waiving the preliminary
remarks.

" Josephine mentioned it."

" May I ask what was her version of it ?"

" It was a statement of facts."

" Doubtless. Then, sir, you are aware that I have been wan-
tonly and grossly insulted by a man for whom I have no respect;
that in the presence of the entire class, I was forced to listen to
language, which, uttered by one man to another, would be met
by prompt chastisement; you are furthermore advised of the
fact that he, whose duty it is to protect those whom he instructs,
instead of compelling the creature to apologize upon his knees,
postponed inquiry until to-morrow.' "

"And very properly, too."

" Unquestionably, sir I" with the sarcastic smile which accom-
panied her former assent. My object in seeking this interview,
is to request your attendance upon that occasion. I shall not
be present."

And why not ?"

" Because, sir, I will not be confronted with that odious rep-
tile, and give my testimony in his hearing. Judging from the
past, an d the knowledge of mankind I have acquired under your
tuition, nothing that I can say will avail to secure me justice.
Mr. Purcell cannot obtain a better teacher, and it is as politic in
Alboni to remain. There will be an amicable settlement ; and
my word will be a knot in the chain of satisfactory evidence
they will elicit. The young ladies will, of course, side with ' the
gentlemen.' "

"But why am I to be there? to receive Alboni's apology?"

" I want none, sir I will hear none. I have been called a
liar! his pitiful life could not expiate the offence !"

" You are savage, young lady ! you wish, perhaps, that I
should pistol him."

" I thank you, sir, for recalling by your ridicule, the remem-
brance that this is a business interview. "What I ask is this :

20 ALONE.

that you announce to Signer Alboni the termination of my studies
with him, and pay his bill."

" Do you know, that although it is only the second week of
the session, you will be charged for the term ?"

" I do, sir."

"What if I refuse to discharge the debt?"

" I shall liquidate it with the money intended for my personal
expenses."

And if I forbid this, and command you to continue your
lessons?'

I shall refuse obedience to a demand you have not the right
to make."

" Miss Ross ! do you know to whom you are speaking ?"

I address Mr. Read."

" And your guardian, young lady !"

" The guardian of my property, sir."

" You are under no obligations to me, I suppose !"

" None that I am conscious of. You are paid for your ser-
vices and my board."

" There are cares for which money can ofier no adequate com-
pensation."

Indeed, sir ! I thought gold a cure for every ill ; a reward
for every toil. But we are digressing. You will do as I wish ?"

" Resume your seat, if you please ! The hope that I might
have regarded your request favorably, is lessened by your unbe-
coming deportment. You are ignorant of any benefits I have
conferred upon you ! Since you will have a debit and credit
account, I will enlighten you on this point. You came into this
house two years ago a romantic, sentimental, mawkish, spoiled
child ; weeping at every word which happened to jar upon your
exquisite sensibilities ; an unsophisticated simpleton ; a fit prey
for any bungler in deception ; unformed in manner ; womanish
in feeling, and extravagant in expression. You have now,
although but seventeen years of age, more sense and self-pos-
session than most women of double your years; control the
weaknesses which rendered you so ridiculous ; are accomplished
and respected ; in short, I say it without flattery to myself, or to
you, bid fair to fill your position in society creditably. You
have still obstacles to surmount; but I have judged your failings

ALONE. 21

leniently, attributing them, mainly, to the defects in your early
training. If your mother had had the wisdom and discretion"
" Stop, sir, stop !" exclaimed the girl, rising from her chair,
and trembling in every limb with excitement. "Take not the
name of my holy mother upon your lips still less cast the
shadow of reproach upon her conduct ! You have taught me
the corruption of human nature, have crushed all the warm
affections I had been instructed to cherish ; have made the life
my young mind pictured so inviting, a desert waste, inhabited
by wily monsters ; but over the wreck there shines one ray,
the memory of an angel lent to earth! Fpr her sake I live
among those whose form she wore, but with whose foul hearts
hers could have had no fellowship. You tell me she was like
the rest, that the religion, in her so lovely, is a delusion and
I answer, I do not believe you. In her name I refute your
vile sophisms ! Heaven knows how little I have profited by
her counsels and example. I loathe myself! 'A woman,' you
said ! rather a fiend ! for such is woman when she buries her
heart, nor mourns above its grave. ' Control my feelings !' I
do ! I have driven back the tears until the scalding waves have
killed whatever in my soul could boast a heavenly birth. There
is nothing there to prove my relationship to my mother, but her
memory. When that is destroyed I shall go mad. I am on
the verge of insanity now I often am ! I do not doubt your
assertions as to your, and shame on me that I should say it, my
brethren; for in yourself I see all the traits you ascribe to them.
"Woman, you say, belongs to an order of yet inferior beings; and
in your daughter I have an illustration of this ; for she inherits
her father's character, combined with a meaner mind. You con-
sider that I owe you respect, I do not ! I am superior to you
both, for I still struggle with the emotions our Creator kindled
up within us, and sent us to earth to extinguish. "Within your
bosoms there are only cold ashes. Frown as you please ! your
anger intimidates as little as your ridicule abashes. The idea
once entered my mind that I could win you and your child to
love me. I could laugh at the thought ; that was in my senti-
mental days, when I deemed that the desolate orphan must find
affection somewhere. My most ' extravagant' imaginings never
paint such a possibility now. I have done. We understand

22 ALONE.

each other. The contempt you had for the mawkish' baby,
cannot equal mine for you. You will say no more of obligation
and respect. I despise you, and I owe you nothing ?"

" Is the girl mad in good earnest ?" gasped the cause of this
burning torrent, as the door closed upon her. She's a dan-
gerous customer when her blood is up a perfect Vesuvius, and
I came near being Herculaneum or Pompeii. I've seen Ross in
these tantrums, when we were chums together. She looked
like her father when she said she was my superior. Bah I" He
picked up his "Enquirer," but the political news was stale
and vapid : the " Whig" was tried with no better success. In
the centre of the racy editorial, and oddly mixed with the adver-
tisements, was that incarnation of pride and passion, which
through her eyes, more plainly than her lips, said, " I despise
you, and I owe you nothing." Thus stood her part of the
account he had proposed to examine.

CHAPTEE IV.

Miss CARLETON acknowledged the appearance of her desk-
mate on the succeeding morning, by an inclination of the head
and a smile ; and nothing more passed between them until the
hour for Italian. She paused, seeing that Ida retained her seat.
" Are you not going in ?" she ventured to ask.

No."

There was a moment of hesitation, and she spoke again. " I
would not appear to dictate, but do you not fear Mr. Purcell
may construe your non-attendance into disrespect to himself ?"

" I fear nothing," was upon Ida's tongue, but her better
nature would not allow her to return rudeness for what, suspi-
cion could torture into nothing but disinterested kindness.
With a gleam of her former frankness she looked up at her
interlocutor, " You do not know as much as I do, or you would
understand the imitilitv of my presence at the trinl which comes

A LONE. 23

off this morning. I would avoid a repetition of yesterday's
scene. One will suffice for a life-time."

" You met then with insult and injustice. To-day, Mr. Pur-
cell will shield you from both. As a gentleman, and a conscien-
tious judge, he cannot but see that Alboni's attack was uncalled
for, and decide against him."

" No man is conscientious when his conscience militates against
his purse and popularity."

Miss Carleton seemed shocked, and Ida added, hastily, " Our
views upon this, as upon most subjects, are very different, I
fancy; therefore, discussion is worse than useless. In this
instance, my determination is taken ;" and she opened her book.

"I will not attempt to shake it," replied her companion.
" But suffer me to hope for a longer conversation at some future
time, upon these topics, concerning which you think we differ.
There may be some points of agreement, and I, for one, am open
to conviction."

Again was Ida thrown off her guard, and the smile that
answered irradiated her face like a sudden sunbeam. But
when her class-mate had gone, she thought, " Weak fool! the
reserve I have striven for two years to establish, melted by a
soft speech of a school- girl. She is one of the would-be ' popu-
lar' sort, and would worm herself into confidence by an affectation
of sympathy and sweetness."

" Miss Koss," said Mr. Purcell, a while later, coming up to
her desk, "you will do me the favor to meet me in my study at
two o'clock."

At the time designated, she walked with a stately tread
through the long school-room, unabashed by the hundred curious
eyes bent upon her; for a summons to "the study" was an event
of rare occurrence, and had been heretofore the harbinger of
some important era in the annals of school-dom. Ida was pre-
pared for every thing' partiality could dictate, and tyranny
execute ; but Mr. Purcell was alone, and his demeanor anything
but menacing. " He thinks to cajole me," whispered the fell
demon Distrust, and her heart changed to steel.

" Miss Ida," began the principal, mildly, " this is your third
session in this institution, and I can sincerely declare that during
that time, your propriety of behaviour, and diligence in study

24 ALONE.

have not been surpassed. I have never had a young lady under
my care, whose improvement was more rapid of whose attain-
ments I was more proud ; but I regret to say, never one whose
confidence I failed so signally to gain. A teacher's task, iny
dear Miss Ross, is at best an arduous one, but if he receive no
recompense for his toil in the affection of those for whom he
labors, his life is indeed one of cheerless drudgery. You appear
to regard me as a mere machine. For a time I attributed your
reserve to diffidence, and trusted that time and my efforts would
dissipate it. On the contrary, the distance between us has
increased. You hold yourself aloof from your school-mates,
repelling every offered familiarity, yet I have seen you weep
after such an act. Your cheek glows with enthusiasm when
your favorite studies engage your mind, and you relapse into
frigid hauteur when recalled to the actual world around you.
You have feeling as well as intellect you are acting a part
assumed from some unaccountable fancy; or, I would rather
believe, put upon you by necessity. The evidence of your want
of reliance in my friendship which you have given me to-day,
has determined me to speak candidly with you. I would not
wrest a confession from you which you might afterwards repent,
but I entreat you to look upon me as a friend who has a paternal
love for each member of his numerous family, who desires to see
you happy, and asks not your confidence, but that you will let
him serve you."

Ida sat like a statue. He resumed in a tone of disappointment
"As to the unjustifiable charge brought by Signer Alboni I
am aware how galling is even the appearance of humiliation upon
so proud a spirit. I have investigated the matter carefully. The
testimony of your friend, Miss Carleton, would of itself have been
sufiicient to exonerate you. It was confirmed by the voice of the
class, and the inevitable consequence is, that Signer Alboni no
longer has a place in my school. I can safely promise that the
teacher I have selected in his stead, will oppose no impediment
to your progress."

Shame for her unjust accusations, and remorseful gratitude
pierced Ida's bosom. Greatly agitated, she approached her
instructor, when Mr. Read walked in ; a cynical iceberg !
Every generous emotion all softness vanished on the instant.

ALONE. 26

His inquiring glance encountered one as freezing. " I will not
detain you longer, Mr. Purcell/' she said, as if concluding a
business arrangement. " As nearly as I can understand, your
object in sending for me was to secure me as a pupil of the new
language-master. Having undertaken the study of the Italian,
I prefer going through with the course. Mr. Read will settle
the terms. Good afternoon, gentlemen;" and with the mien of
3 duchess she left them.

Mr. Read " had been delayed by pressing business. Miss
Ross requested him to see Signor Alboni was sorry he was
late presumed all was right, etc.," and walked out again. Mr.
Purcell was too much hurt, and too indignant at his pupil's con-
duct, to care whether he stayed or not.

The misguided girl had alienated a true friend, and she knew
it felt it in her heart's core. In the solitude of her chamber
she wept bitter tears : " I have cast away the gem for which I
would sell my soul ! While I thirsted for the waters of affec-
tion, I struck down the hand that held them to my lip. It is
my fate I was not born to be loved I hate myself whv
should I inspire others with a different feeling ?"

In vain she tried to reason herself into a belief of Mr. Pur-
cell's insincerity. Truth speaks with a convincing tongue, and
she knew that the imputation of interested motives she had
hurled at him in the unfortunate revulsion of feeling, was
unfounded.

In intermission next day, a note was laid upon Ida's desk,
inscribed in towering capitals, to " Misses Ross and Carleton.*"
It ran thus : "

" At a large and enthusiastic meeting of the Italian class of
Mr. Purcell' a Young Ladies' Female Seminary, convened on
yesterday afternoon, the succeeding resolutions were proposed,
and carried unanimously .

"Resolved) That whereas, Miss Ida Ross and Miss Caroline
Carleton, members of the aforesaid class, have, by their spirited
independence delivered us from an oppression as grinding as that
under which our Revolutionary forefathers groaned, a vote of
thanks shall be tendered them in the name of their compatriots.
And

3

26 ALONE.

" Resolved, Moreover, that we bind ourselves to assist them
by our united suffrages in the attainment of any honor for which
they shall hereafter be candidates, whether the dunce-block or
the gold medal. ANNA TALBOT, Chairman.

ELLEN MORRIS, Secretary.

The event which had elicited this public manifestation, was
to Ida, connected \vith too much that was unpleasant, to allow
her to smile at the pompous communication. She passed it
gravely to her neighbor. She laughed at the ludicrous repeti-
tion of feminity in the second line, and at the conclusion,
bounded upon the platform where stood Mr. Purcell's desk,
and commenced a flourishing harangue " for herself and col-
loague," expressing their gratitude at the flattering tribute from
their fellow-laborers, and pledging themselves to uphold forever
their honor and lawful privileges. " In the language of your
eloquent resolution, my sisters, we form a Young Ladies'
Female Seminary' womanfully will we battle for woman's
rights."

" Hush-h-h !" and Mr. Purcell was discovered standing behind
the crowd. He stood aside to let the blushing orator return to
her scat, remarking in an under-tone as she passed, "I must
take care to enlist such talents in my service I shall be undone
if they are directed against me."

" Oh Carry ! what did he say ?" whispered Fanny Porter.

" Nothing very dreadful," she returned, laughingly. Ida
looked on in surprise, Josephine with scorn; but to the majority,
this little episode in their monotonous life was a diverting enter-
tainment.

" Give me a girl who is not too proud to relish a joke," said
Ellen Morris. " Ida Ross is above such buffoonery She would
not have demeaned her dignity before the school."

" But Carry spoke for her too," said Emma Glenn, a meek,
charitable creature. "Perhaps modesty, not pride, kept her
silent."

"Fiddlesticks !" was the school-girlish rejoinder.

Ida had missed a chance for making herself popular. The
girls were moved to admiration by her manner of resenting
Alboni's rudeness, and their joy at getting rid of him, assumed

ALONE. 27

the shape of gratitude to their champion. She was for the hour
a heroine, and might have retained her stand, but for her cool
treatment of their advances. She saw, without understanding
the reason of the change, that there was now a mingling of dis-
like in their neglect ; and as she sank in their esteem, Carry
mounted. Mr. Purcell never noticed her out of the recitation
room Mr. Head was more lofty Josephine more contemptuous
than ever Inmates of one house occupying adjacent cham-
bers sitting at the same board at home, and within speaking
distance at school, the two girls had not one feeling in common
a spark of affection one for the other.. Open ruptures were
infrequent now, although they were innumerable during the first
months of their companionship. They appeared together in pub-
lic this Mr. Head enjoined " It was due to his reputation,
people should not say that his daughter's privileges exceeded
his ward's." Further than this he did not interfere. He saw
them only at meal-times, and in the evening ; then Josephine
presided over the tea-tray with skill and grace, and amused
him, if he wished it, by reading, singing or talking. Ida did as
she pleased. There were no requirements, no . privations. In
the eyes of the world her situation was unexceptionable. They
knew nothing of the covert sneers which smiled down any ten-
dency to what the torpid minds of the father and daughter
considered undue enthusiasm; their sarcastic notice of her "sin-
gularities," their studied variance with her views; but to her,
bondage and cruelty would have been more tolerable. Yet this
mocking surveillance this certainty of ridicule, could not always
check the earnest expression of a grasping intellect and ardent
temperament; and there were not a few who frequented the
house, who preferred the piquancy of her conversation, when
they could draw her out of the snow-caverns of her reserve, to
the trite common-places and artificial spirits of Miss Read.

Among these was Mr. Dermott, an Irish gentleman of con-
siderable scientific renown, and a traveller of some note ; hard
upon forty years of age, but enjoying life with the zest of
twenty. Ida's intelligent countenance had pleased him at their
introduction, and having letters to Mr. Read, he embraced every
opportunity to improve the acquaintance.

" I shall not go to school to-day," said Josephine, one morn-

28 ALONE.

ing, " father expects Mr. Dermott and several other gentlemen
to dine with him, and I cannot be spared. He says you must
come home in time for dinner."

( j As school breaks up at three, and you will not dine before
five, there was no need to issue the command;" said Ida, irritated
at her arrogant tone.

" Very well, I have delivered the message."

Mr. Head was dissatisfied that his ward did not enter the
drawing-room until dinner was announced. " It did not look
well," and her nonchalant air and slight recognition of the
party, did not " speak well for his bringing up." But the
current veered before meal was over. The fowls were under-
done, and the potatoes soaked. His glance of displeasure at his
daughter was received with such imperturbability, that he chafed
at the impossibility of moving her, and his desire to render some-
body uncomfortable. The latter wish was not left ungratified.
One after another felt the influence of his lowering brow, and
imitated his silence, until Mr. Dermott and Ida were the only
ones who maintained a connected conversation. He talked
fluently with the humor peculiar to his countrymen, and had
succeeded in interesting his listener. She had naturally a
happy laugh, which in earlier years rung out in merry music ;
and as the unusual sound startled him from time to time, Mr.
Read took it as a personal affront. Could not she see that he
was out of temper ? He had punished the rest for the cook's
misdeeds, how' dare she, while they sat 'neath the thunder cloud
of his magnificent wrath, sport in the sunshine ? It was auda-
cious bravado. She should rue it ere long. Josephine readily
obeyed his signal to leave the table, so soon as it could be done
with a semblance of propriety. I will hear the rest, by and
by," said Ida to Mr. Dermott, "au revoir." Neither of the
girls spoke after quitting the dining-room. Josephine lay upon
a lounge, with half-closed lids, apparently drowsy or fatigued,
in reality, wakeful and watching. Ida walked back and forth,
humming an Irish air pleased and thoughtful. Then taking
from the bookcase a volume of " Travels," she employed herself
in looking it over.

" See I" said she, at Mr. Dermott's reappearance, " it is as I
thought. This author's account varies, in some respects, from

ALONE.

yours ; and at the peril of my place in your good graces, I
inust declare my prejudices to be with him. A spot so cele-
orated, so sacred in its associations, cannot be as uninteresting
as you would have me to think. Come, confess, that the jolting
camel and surly guide were accessories to your discontent."

Josephine lost the answer, and much that followed. She was
joined by young Pemberton, a fop of the first water, with sense
enough to make him uneasy in the society of the gifted, and
meanness to rejoice in their discomfiture and misfortune. For
the rest, he was weak and hot-headed, a compound of conceit
and malice. Time was when he admired Ida. He had an
indefinite notion that a clever wife would reflect lustre upon
him ; and a very decided appreciation of her more shining and
substantial charms.

Her repulse was a mortal offence : small minds never forget,
much less pardon a rebuke to their vanity, and he inly swore
revenge. But how to get it ? She rose superior to his witless
sarcasms, and more pointed slights; reversing the arrows towards
himself, and his mortification heated into hatred. Josephine was
aware of this feeling, and its cause ; and while despising, in a
man, a weakness to which she was herself a prey, foreseeing that
he might prove a convenient tool, she attached him to her by
suasives and flatteries.

" It is a positive relief to talk to you, Miss Josephine/' he
yawned, I am surfeited with literature and foreigners. These
travelled fellows are outrageous bores, with their bushy mousta-
chios and outlandish lingo. How the ladies can fawn upon
them as they do, I cannot comprehend."

" Do not condemn us all for the failings of a part. There are
those who prefer pure gold to gilded trash."

" For your sake, I will make some exceptions," with a " kill-
ing" look. " But what do you imagine to be the object of that
flirtation ? No young lady of prudence or proper self-respect,
would encourage so boldly the attentions of a stranger. Sup-
posing him to be what he represents, (a thing by no means
certain,) she cannot intend to marry him a man old enough to
be her father !'

" But, 'unison of tastes,' concord of souls,' etc., will go far
towards reconciling her to the disparity of years/' observed
3*

30 ALONE.

Josephine, ironically; not sorry to strike up'on this tender point.
He tried to laugh, but with indifferent success.

Ida's voice reached them, and they stopped to listen.
" I ain afraid my conceptions of Eastern life and scenery are
more poetical than correct. I picture landscapes sleeping in
warm, rich, ( Syrian sunshine,' ' sandal groves and bowers of
spice/

' Ruined shrines, and towers that seem
The relics of some splendid dream,'

such a Fairy Land as ignorance and imagination create."

" The Utopia of one who studies Lalla Rookh more than
Eastern Statistics,' or Incidents of Travel,' " said Mr. Der
mott, smiling. " Yet Moore's descriptions are not so much
overwrought as some suppose. His words came continually to
my tongue. He has imbibed the true spirit of Oriental poetry;
the melancholy, which, like the ghost of a dead age, broods over
that oldest of lands; the passion flushing under their tropical
sun ; their wealth of imagery. Lalla Rookh reads like a trans-
lation from the original Persian. The wonder is that he has
never been self-tempted to visit the 'Vale of Cashmere' in
person."

" Campbell, too, having immortalized Wyoming, will not cross
the ocean to behold it," said Ida.

There was a consultation between the confederates, and Pem-
berton crossed to Ida's chair, with a smirk that belied the fire
in his eye.

11 Excuse me, Mr. Dermott, Miss Ida, I am commissioned to
inquire of you the authorship and meaning of this quotation

' Deeply, darkly, desperately blue !' "

It is impossible to convey a just impression of the offensive
tone and emphasis with which this impertinence was uttered.
The quick-witted Irishman saw through the design in an
instant. " It is from a Scotch author," said he, before Ida
could reply, " and the rhyme runs after this fashion

'Feckless, fairlie, farcically fou!'"

and not deigning a second glance at the questioner, he con-
tinued his account of a visit he had paid to Moore. The object

ALONE.

of this merciless retort stood for a second, in doubt ;.
meaning, and then walked off, still in incertitude. Ida's ^
while it might have been in respc. , 7\Ir. Dermott' s .31-3
assured Josephine that her end was v : :cmplished, befc ii
messenger had delivered his lame re

" She understood me, and it cut pretty deeply, but that pv ;
of a paddy answered for her. He repeated the next line, im
1 from a Scotch author,' he said, but I believe he made it up."

" What was it ?" asked Josephine.

" Fairly, farcically fou,' or something like that. If I were
sure that last word meant fool, I would knock him down. Do
you understand Scotch?"

" No," replied Josephine, vexed, but afraid to excite him
further. "He is beneath the notice of a gentleman ; we can
let him alone."

But Ida's share in this was not to be overlooked. Josephine
appeared as usual at breakfast : talkative to her father, and taci-
turn to her female companion. At length she inquired, mean-
ingly, "by the way, Ida, when does your travelled Hibernian
4 lave this counthry ?' "

" If you speak of Mr. Dermott, I do not know."

" Is it not remarkable," said Josephine to her parent, " that
polish and purify as you may, you cannot cure an Irishman of
vulgarity? Irish he is, and Irish he will remain to the end oi
the chapter."

" Dermott behaves very decently, does he not ? His letters
of recommendation introduction, I would say, describe him as
a pattern gentleman."

Josephine lifted her brows. " It is a misfortune to be fas-
tidious ; my education has rendered me so. I cannot tolerate
elang or abuse, especially when directed at a superior in polite-
ness, if not in assurance."

"What now?" demanded Mr. Read, impatiently; and Ida,
unable to hear more in silence, started up from the table.

"Wait, if you please," said Josephine, with that metallic
glitter of her grey eyes. " I wish you to repeat your friend's
reply to Mr. Pcmberton, when he was the bearer of a civil mes-
sage from me."

32 ALONE.

" I heard no message of that description," retorted Ida,
unmoved.

" He did not repeat a line of poetry, and ask the author's
name, I presume ?"
He did."
And you furnished the required information?"

' I did not."

f Mr. Dermott did, then. What was his answer?"

I do not choose to tell. I am not in the habit of playing
spy and informer."

" Then I shall repeat it. /am not in the habit of winking at
impudence or transgressions of the most common laws of society.
What do you say, sir, of a man who, in the presence of ladies,
calls another a { farcical fool?' "

" That he is a foreign jackanape. He never darkens my
door again. You heard this?" to Ida.

I did not, sir, but Mr. Pemberton displays such penetration
in discovering, and taste in fitting on caps that could suit no one
else so well, I am not inclined to contest his title to this latest
style."

" I do not wonder at your defence of your erudite suitor,"
said Josephine, laying a disagreeable stress upon the adjective.
"If he were to single me out in every company, as the one being
capable of appreciating him, I, too, should be blinded by the
distinction attendant upon my notoriety. But as His Highness
never gives token, by word or deed, of his consciousness of the
existence of so unpretending a personage, I may be pardoned
uiy impartial observation and judgment. I do not expect you
to forbid his visits, sir, but I wish it understood that / am not
it home when he calls."

" And that you reject his attentions ?" asked Ida, dryly.

Josephine did not like her smile, yet saw no danger in reply-
ing "assuredly!"

"It is a pity," was the rejoinder, that your resolution was
not postponed until Tuesday."

And why?" said Mr. Read.

" Mr. Dermot informed me last night that he had secured three
tickets for the concert of Monday evening, and requested permis-
sion to call for Josephine and myself. I told him that she had

ALONE. 33

expressed anxiety to attend, and that I was disengaged. She
was not in the parlor when he left, and he entrusted the invita-
tion to me. He will be here this forenoon for her answer. As
things now stand, his visit will be extremely mal-apropos. I
shall decline for myself; she can do the same."

Josephine prudently lowered her eye-lids, but her lips were
white with rage. She had especial reasons for desiring to go to
this concert. Every body was running mad after the principal
performer : absence from necessity would be a pitiable inflic-
tion ; to stay away from choice, irrefragable proof of want of
taste. To be escorted thither by Mr. Dermott, would give her
an eclat the devotion of a score of Pembertons could not pro-
duce. In seeking to mortify another, she had pulled down this
heavy chagrin upon her own head, common fate of those who
would make the hearts and backs of their fellows the rounds of
their ladder to revenge or to fame.

Even Mr. Head was momentarily disconcerted. " I will pro-
cure you a ticket," he said, consolingly.

That tongue was used to falsehood, yet it did not move as
glibly as was its wont, as she replied, " I do not care to go, sir."

" That is fortunate," said Ida, " as every seat was taken yes-
terday. You do not object to my withdrawing now ?"

The shot had gone home; her enmity was gratified; she had
not been anxious to attend from the first, and therefore was not
disappointed ; she did not suffer from pained sensibility ; the
frequency of these encounters had inured her to ambushed attack;
she was fast becoming a match for them in stoicism, and sur-
passed them in satire; in this skirmish she had borne flying
colours from the field; but had the contrary of all these things
been true, she could not have been more wretched She hated,
as spirits like hers only can hate, her cold-hearted persecutors,
and exulted in their defeat; yet close upon triumph came a
twinge of remorse and a sense of debasement.

" I am sinking to their level ! I could compete with them upon
no other ground. They are despicable in their worldliness and
malice ; shall I grovel and hiss with them ? It seems inevitable
debarred as I am from all associations which can elevate and
clear my mind. Oh ! the low envy in that girl's face as she
named my suitor !' Destitute of mental wants herself, she

34 ALONE.

thinks of nothing but courtship and a settlement! But this
matter must be arranged."

She opened her writing-desk. Her chamber was her retreat
and sanctum, and she had lavished much taste and time in fit-
ting it up. All its appurtenances spoke of genius and refine-
ment. With a poetic love for warm colors and striking contrasts,
crimson and black relieved, each the other, in her carpet and
curtains. The bedstead, seats and tables, fashioned into elegant
and uncommon forms by her orders, were draped and cushioned
with the same Tyrian hue. Books and portfolios were heaped
and strewed upon the shelves and stands; and in one corner,
upon a wrought bronze tripod, was an exquisite statuette a girl
kneeling beside an empty cage, the lifeless songster stark and
cold in her hand Several of Ida's schoolmates were with her
when she purchased it from an itinerant Italian. They saw in
the expression of hopeless sadness, only regret for her bird. Ida
noted that her gaze was not upon its ruffled plumes, but to its
silent home; and that one hand lay upon her heart. Looking
mor} narrowly she discerned upon the pedestal the simple excla-
mation, " Et inon coeur !"

Henceforward it had become her Lares. She had scattered
flowers over it, kissed it weepingly, and with lips rigid in stern
despair, laid her hot brow to the white forehead of the voiceless
mourner. She must have something to love, and the insensate
image was dear, because it told of a grief such as hers. Now,
after she dipped her pen in the standish, she paused to contem-
plate it, the red light bathing it in a life-like glow, and the
blood receded from her face, as she uttered aloud its touching
complaint, Et mon coeur !"

Writing a note to Mr. Dermott, in which, without stating her
reasons, she declined his offer, she dispatched it by one of hex
own servants, lately promoted to the office of Abigail, and attired
herself for a walk. It was Saturday, and the weather faultless.
A sigh of relief escaped her when she was in the outer air she
was free for a while. The streets were densely peopled dash-
ing ladies, and marble-playing urchins, glorying in the holiday;
bustling, pushing men, and lazy nurses lugging fat babies ; and
through the incongruous crowd the pale thinker threaded her
way, jostling and jostled, wrapped in herself, as they thought

ALONE. 35

but of their individual personality, with this difference they
spfined happy in their selfishness; she was miserable in her iso-
lation. She did not see that Pemberton passed her with a stift
bow, which, in punishment for her non-recognition, he resolved
should be exchanged for a decided " cut" at their next meeting;
did not catch Mr. Purcell's eye, as forgetting her rebuff in his
pleasure at espying one, who could rightly value the prize he had
discovered in an antiquated volume, musty with age, he beckoned
to her from the door of the bookstore ; did not hear Emma G lenn's
modest "Good morning, Miss Ida/' although she liked the child,
and would have loved her if she had dared. She turned from
the busy thoroughfare into an unfrequented street, keeping the
same rapid pace ; the mind was working, the body must be mov-
ing too on, still on, with unflagging speed 'till she found her-
self upon the summit of the hill overlooking the lower part of
the city, and near the old churchyard. She stopped, and looked
in. A flight of steps led up to the burying-ground, several feet
above the level of the walk. What tempted her to ascend?
She had been there before, and was not interested yet the irre-
solution ended in her entrance. It was very still in that Acro-
polis of the dead : the long grass, yellow in the October sun,
waved without rustling ; the sere leaves drifted silently to the
ground; from the mass of buildings below her arose only a
measured beat rather than hum as regular, and not louder,
than the "muffled drum" within her bosom. The warring ele-
ments of discord sank into a troubled rest, but their conflict was
easier to be borne than the reaction that succeeded.

"Free among the dead;" forgotten as they, she sat upon a
broken tombstone, in the shadow of the venerable church, with
sorrowful eyes which looked beyond the city, the river, and the
undulating low-grounds skirting its banks.

She had said to herself an hundred times, " I cannot be happy ;
it is folly to hope." But this morning she felt she had never
until now relinquished hope; that despair, for the first time,
stalked through the deserted halls of her heart, and the dreaded
echo " alone" answered his footsteps.

It is easy to give up the world, with its million sources of
delight, to share the adverse fortunes of one dearer than all its

36 ALONE.

painted show; it is sweet to bid adieu to its frivol ties, for the
hope of another and a "better," but

" When the draught so fair to see
Turns to hot poison on the lip;"

when the duped soul cries out against the fair pretence that
promised so much and gave so little, when it will none of it, and
puts it by with loathing disgust ; yet resorts to nothing more
real and pure; what art can balm a woe like this ?

A click of the gate-latch, and voices warned her that her soli-
tude was about to be invaded. " I will wait here half an hour/'
said familiar tones. " Thank you/' was the reply;" "you need
not stay longer; if she is at home 1 shall spend the day." "Very
well ; good bye," and Carry Carlton ran up the steps. Retreat
was impossible, for their eyes met at once, and to the new visitor
the meeting appeared to give satisfaction.

* "I am, indeed, fortunate," said she, saluting Ida, and taking
a place beside her, "I expected to pass a solitary half-hour. One
of the girls came with me to the gate. She has gone to see her
aunt, and may not return to-day. This is a favorite spot of mine.
I am laughed at for the choice, yet it seems I am not as singular
as they would have me believe. Do you come here often ?"

" This is only my second visit."

"Indeed! But it is a long walk from your house. I live
nearer, although on the other hill."

" I understood you were from the country," said Ida.

" So I am but my sister resides here, and hers is another
home to me. I love the country, yet I like Richmond. It
is a beautiful city/' she continued, her glance roving over the
landscape.

" Outwardly yes."

" You do not think the inhabitants adapted to their abode,
then?"

" I do not know that they are worse than the rest of mankind.
It is a matter of astonishment to me, that this globe should have
been set apart as the theatre for so depraved a race."

" I don't know," said Carry, cheerily. " I find it a nice world
the best I am acquainted with ; and the people harmless, good

ALONE. 37

creatures some dearer to me than others; but I entertain a
fraternal affection for all."

" I have read of philanthropists/' said Ida ; " but you are the
sole specimen I have seen. And this universal love is it con-
tent to exist without a reciprocation ?"

" The heart would be soon emptied were this so," returned
the other, her bright face becoming serious. " There are many
who love me ; if any dislike, I am in blissful ignorance of the
sentiment and its cause."

" But if your friends were removed, and replaced by enemies?"

" I would teach them friendship. My affection for the dead
would make me more desirous to benefit the living."

" And if they would not be conciliated if upon the broad
earth you had not an answering spirit ?"

" I should die !"

" How then do I live ?" nearly burst from Ida's heart, but
she smothered it, and replied, " It is easier to speak of death
than to brave it."

Death ! did I say death ?" exclaimed Carry. I saw life
as it would be were I bereft of father, sister, friends and I said
truly that it would not be worth the keeping but death ! I
would not rush on that ! I have such a horror of the winding-
sheet and the worm!" She shivered.

" Yet you like to be here ?"

" Yes. This is a sunny, cheerful place, with no fresh graves
to remind one that the work of destruction is still going on. I
love life. Others may expose its deceits, and weep above its
withered blooms; I see blue sky where they fancy clouds. It
is the day the time for action and enjoyment; who would
hasten the coming of the night impenetrable dawnless !"

" ' To die and go we know not where !' "

quoted Ida. " That line conveys all that I fear in death. ( There
have been seasons when the uncertainty shrouding the abyss
beyond alone prevented, my courting its embrace. Were it
eternal forgetfulness, how grateful would be its reposeT) Looking
around me here, I think of calm sleepers under these stones,
hands folded meekly upon bosoms that will never heave again ;
of aching heads and wearied spirits at rest forever."
4

A LON 4.

" You are too young to covet this dreamless slumber," said
Carry " With your talents and facilities you have a work to
do in this world."

" What can I do ? and for whom ?"

" Why for every body."

" Too wide a scope define. For exampla, what are my school-
duties, setting aside my studies ?"

" We can help each other," was the modest rejoinder. " We
can impart pleasure, and avoid giving pain. Not a day passes
in which we cannot add a drop of sweet to the appointed draught
of some one of our fellow-creatures."

"Apropos to honey it suggests its opposite, gall, and our
ci-devant professor. I have not thanked you for your generous
interference in my behalf, on the day of our fracas," said Ida,
with an ease and cordiality that surprised herself.

" You magnify the favor. I spoke the truth. To withhold
it would have been dishonesty."

" Dishonesty !"

" Your character for veracity was assailed. I had the proof
which would establish it. I should have felt like a receiver of
stolen goods had I concealed it."

" Moreover, to your philanthropy, I was not an individual,
but the impersonation of the sisterhood ;" said Ida, jestingly.

" Perhaps so," returned Carry, in a like strain. " You remem-
ber the Young Ladies' Female meeting.' "

" That was a piece of Ellen Morris' grandiloquence. Do you
know, I envy that girl her faculty of creating mirth wherever
she goes !"

" I had rather be Emma Glenn," said Carry. " One is witty,
the other affectionate, and they will receive respectively admira-
tion and love."

" I do not quite agree with you. Ellen's high spirits will
carry her through many a sharp battle, from which Emma's
sensitive nature would never recover. To combat with the
world one should have no heart; and I heard a clergyman once
say that a woman had no use for sense."

Carry laughed. " Between you, you would represent us as a
superfluous creation. Yet woman has her sphere, no less than
man ; and if he conquers in his by might of purpose and brute

ALONE. 39

strength, she guides, instead of rules in hers, by love and sub-
mission. As for the world, that semi-fabulous ogre, supposed
to live somewhere, all out of doors, whose cold charities are pro-
verbial ; who eats up widow's houses, and grinds the poor ; we
have no dealings with it. It is, to my notion, an innocent bug-
bear, kept by the men, to prevent us from meddling in their
business matters ; and to melt flinty-hearted wives into pity for
one, who has been fighting this monster all day, and has now to
drink smoked tea, and eat burnt toast for supper."

" Are you ever sad ?" questioned Ida.

" Not often, why do you ask ?"

tl You appear so light-hearted. I was at a loss to determine
whether it was natural or feigned."

" My spirits are good, chiefly from habit, I believe. My
father is remarkably cheerful. It is a maxim of his, that we
are unjust, when we cause others to do penance for our humors ;
they have trouble enough of their own to bear. Controlling the
manifestations of temper and discontent, is generally followed
by the suppression of the feelings themselves. It has been so
with me."

" See that burlesque of life !" said Ida, pointing. " Children
turning somersets upon a tomb-stone !"

The tomb was built with four brick walls, supporting a
horizontal tablet; and upon this flat surface, the irreverent
youngsters were gambolling. One, the most agile, and the
leader of the troop, was, as she spoke, in the act of performing
a vehemently encored feat, viz. : throwing two somersets upon
the marble, another in transits for the ground, and a fourth,
after landing upon the turf. Two were accomplished in safety,
the third was a flying leap, and he did not move afterwards.
The children screamed, and the girls ran to the spot. In fall-
ing, he had struck his head against a stone, and was senseless,
the blood gushing from a wound in, or near the temple. Carry
rested his head upon her arm, and with nervous haste, unbut-
toned his collar. Where are his parents ?" inquired Ida. But
they only cried the louder. I fear he is killed I" said Carry.
Ida shook her purse at the terrified group. " Who will bring
me a doctor, who, his mother ?" Her collected manner tended
to quiet them, as much as the clink of coin. Half-a-dozen

40 ALONE.

scampered in as many directions, and she ordered the rest off,
without ceremony. There was no rebellion. Each had a mis-
giving that he was to blame for the casualty, and they were
glad to skulk away.

The handkerchief which Carry held to the gash, was saturated,
and Ida supplied hers. He showed no sign of life, except that
Ida imagined that she detected a feeble fluttering of the heart.
Carry wept as though her heart would break. " Poor little fellow I"
she exclaimed repeatedly. Ida did not shed a tear, but her com-
pressed lips and contracted brow said this did not proceed from
insensibility. I cannot bear this suspense," she said. " I will
look for a doctor myself, if you are not afraid to stay here alone."

" No, go I"

She met the medical man at the gate. It was Mr. Read's
family physician, who chanced to be in the neighborhood. "Oh,
Dr. Ballard I" exclaimed Ida. " 1 am rejoiced to see you I"

" And I am always happy to meet Miss Ross but what is
this about a boy killed ? None of your friends, I hope."

Ida explained, as she led him to the scene of the disaster. It
seemed ill-timed to the agitated girls, to see him touch his hat,
with grave courtesy, to Carry, as he stooped to make an examina-
tion. ' He is not dead," he said, feeling the pulse and heart;
" but it came near being an awkward hurt. Miss Ross, I will
trouble you to call one of those boys, and send him for my ser-
vant, who is in the street with my carriage. If I only had some
soft linen I" looking around. Ida took an embroidered scarf
from her neck. He tore it into strips, rolled them into a ball,
and bound it tightly upon the cut. Where does he live ?" he
asked.

The. information was furnished by the boy's mother, who
hurried up at this instant. She, with her reviving son, were put
into the carriage, and the doctor stepped in after them.

The girls had no inclination to linger in the church-yard.
The conversation, during their walk, ran upon the accident;
but as they parted at the corner of the streets diverging to their
separate abodes, Carry expressed a strong desire for the con-
tinuation of the acquaintance. " We have had an odd talk this
morning ;" said she smiling ; " I would not have you regard it
as a fair sample of my conversational powers."

ALONE. 41

Ida walked homeward with a lightened fjpirit. " Odd" as was
their talk, and alarming as was the incident which interrupted
it, .she was better for both. There was a charm in Carry's
frankness, which beguiled her confidence, and her cheerful phi-
losophy was a pleasant, if not a prudent rule, for making one's
way in life. She dwelt upon her declaration, that each day
brought its opportunities for benevolent deeds; and her con-
science responded joyfully to the appeal, "Have I contributed
iny drop of sweet to-day?" by pointing to her exertions for the
relief of the unknown sufferer. Carry had praised her presence
of mind, and the doctor complimented her warmly. "If I have
not given pleasure, I have mitigated pain."

The struck chord ceased to vibrate as she reached the house
where she had suffered and learned so much. When she came
down to dinner, she was impassive and distant. Mr. Read vouch-
safed to inquire if she had seen Mr. Dermott. She replied in
the negative.

" I thought there was an arrangement to that effect ;" said he,
sneeringly.

" I addressed a note to him which made his call unnecessary."

11 1 do not presume to meddle with your correspondence, Miss
Ross;" with "immense" stiffness; "but I trust neither my name,
or that of my daughter was contained in that communication."

"I am responsible for my actions, sir; it is certain I never
thought of referring them to your influence. I suppose Mr.
Dermott is satisfied, 1a.m."

CHAPTER V.

MR. PURCELL, himself an able connoisseur and liberal patron
of the fine arts, never suffered a suitable occasion to pass, without
endeavoring to implant, and cultivate like tastes in his pupils.
No "Exhibition" or Collection was recommended unadvisedly.
He justly considered a relish for a vicious or false style, worse
than none. So well was this known, that the girls were equally
4*

42 ALONE.

eager to examine what he esteemed worthy of their inspection,
and to avoid that which he condemned. An artist visited the
city, and advertised a set of "choice paintings, on exhibition for
a few days." They were much talked of, and the scholars impa-
tiently listened for the verdict of their principal. There were
many smiling faces, when he announced, that he accepted, with
pleasure, the polite invitation of the artist to himself and the
members of his school. " The pictures were the work of a master
hand; he recommended them to their careful study." That
afternoon, the studio was full. Some went from curiosity; some
to be in the fashion; comparatively a small number through
genuine love for the art. Among the latter class was Ida
Koss. Bestowing little notice upon her acquaintances present,
she passed around the room, intent upon the object which had
drawn her thither. She was not disturbed ; her reserve repelled,
and her intellectual superiority awed ; she knew and they knew
that though with, she was not of them; as an institution, they
were proud of her; as individuals, with a very few exceptions,
they disliked and envied her.

The proprietor, or a gentleman, supposed to be he, was at a
desk, writing. He must have possessed the power of abstraction
in an extraordinary degree ; for the chattering about him resem-
bled the confabulations of a flock of magpies, more than the con-
versation of decorous young ladies. Groups came and departed;
and Ida did not mark the changes, until, diverted from the con-
templation of a splendid landscape by the sound of her own
name, she perceived a group near by, composed of four or five
girls and as many young men, none of them her well-wishers or
admirers ; their attention divided between herself, and a sketch
of St. John's church. Josephine was the magnet of the circle,
and behind her, was the smirking Pemberton. A single glance
took in all this, and features and expression were immobile a?
before. It was Josephine's voice she had heard ; its tones
higher than usual. She neither desired, nor affected conceal-
ment.

" As I was saying, the church-yard has been converted into a
gymnasium. The cry is no longer, ' Liberty or Death !' but
' Leap Frog or die !' "

A general cachinnation applauded this felicitous hit.

ALONE. 43

" On Saturday last" continued the narrator " the unri-
valled troupe were in the midst of one of their most elaborate
performances, encouraged by the presence I am not sure, but
assisted by a select company of spectators. I need only specify
Miss Ross and friend, name unknown to assure you of the high
respectability of the assemblage. Smiled upon by beauty, and
animated to superhuman exertions by soft glances from one, per-
chance too dear to his youthful heart, the chief of the band
threw his whole soul into his lofty undertaking, and alas ! his
body, also ! He arose, like the Phoenix, from the ashes below,
but to seek the earth again, having fallen from the frightful
height of three feet. He lay upon the sod without sense or
motion. The spectators pressed around, but, breaking through
the throng, came the fair nymphs aforesaid. One pillowed his
head upon her arm, and drenched his dusty brow with tears ; her
comrade wrung her hands, and shrieked for help ! lest he die !'
The crowd, at a respectful distance, looked on ; venturing a whis-
per, now and then, to the purport that it was as good as a play,
and cost nothing.' Warm brine and sounding air are poor medi-
cines for a cracked skull; and the sufferer remaining insensible,
a frantic damsel was seen, vaulting over tomb-stones, bonnetless
and shawlless, on the most direct route to the gate. A gallant
man of healing was passing, and him she conducted to the pros-
trate hero. Handkerchiefs and scarfs were stripped from necks
and arms to staunch the trickling gore ; and supported by his
affectionate nurses, the interesting youth gained his carriage.
Miss Eoss returned home with swollen eyes and downcast air.
The afternoon, evening, and most of the next day were spent in
retirement. This was a grief sympathy could not assuage."

" Did she tell you of it ?" asked one.

"'No. Madam Rumor is my informant, and her story is
vouched for by a gentleman, an eye witness of the catastrophe."

In this lamentable caricature, there was so little truth, and so
much less wit, that it should have been beneath the contempt of
her, at whom it was aimed ; but the ridicule was public. Her
bonnet hid her face, but the angry blood surged over her neck in
crimsoa streams. There was vengeful fury enough in the
grasp, which drove the nails through the paper she held, into
the palm, to have swept the tittering clique from the earth at u

44 ALONE.

stroke Whatever purposo of retaliation sprang into life, it was
nipped in the bud. The desk of the supposed artist was in a
niche ; and the projecting wall Concealed it from the view of the
party. He was almost in front of her ; and her burning eyes
were arrested as they encountered his. There was no scorn, or
none for her, in that regard ; but warning, interest and inquiry
were blended with such earnestness, that, like the charmed bird,
nhe could not move or look away. Even when he cast his eyes
upon his work again, she did not, at once, withdraw hers. He
might have been thirty ; was pale, and not handsome, yet any-
thing but ordinary in his appearance. If his countenance had
betrayed emotion the previous moment, it vanished as his pen
began to move. He was the automaton scribe, and the subdued
Ida, drawing her shawl around her, quitted the place, without
exchanging a syllable with any one.

The spell of the silent rebuke was speedily dissolved, yet she
was grateful that it had restrained her hasty retort. The heated
in a quarrel, are always the defeated. Morbid sensibility is the
engendcrer of suspicion, and vice versa ; the two act and react,
until a smile, a look, is the foundation of weeks it may be, of
years of wretchedness. To such a mind, ridicule is a venomed
dart, piercing and poisoning, and pride but inflames the wound.
Dr. Ballard had showed the courtesy of a gentleman, and the
kindness of a friend in his entercourse with Ida. Unconsciously,
she had come to like, almost to trust him and this was at an
end. He, and he, only, could have provided the outline of the
narrative she had heard. She set her teeth hard, as she recalled
her agitated greeting at the gate; and his composure; her
subsequent offers of assistance "officious" she called them
now, and his calm acceptance. But it was base and unmanly,
to make capital for sport of the weakness of a woman a child,
compared with himself ! They are all alike I must believe
it ! with hearts rotten to the core ! Heaven have mercy on me,
until I am as callous as they !" And when he called, at some
personal inconvenience, to impart the intelligence of her
" protege's" recovery, she met him with a haughtiness that sur-
prised and angered him ; and his futile attempt to throw down
the barrier, resulted in his cutting short the interview. He had
told Mr. Read of Ida's adventure ; but not in the spirit in which

ALONE. 45

its events were coarsely retailed. He lauded her kindness and
self-possession, in terms too extravagant to suit the zero humanity
of her guardian's narrow soul ; -as he wound up the story to his
daughter he " was not a man to get up a fit of heroics, and had
no idea that Ballard had so much palaver about him."

If his vile doctrine were indeed true, if all men were alike,
and like him, who of us would not unite in the orphan's prayer
would not cry, with her, in despairing bitterness, " Heaven
have mercy upon us, until we are as callous as they !"

She had no mercy upon herself. There was an unholy joy in
ruthlessly trampling upon the few flowers that grew in her path :
the ebullition of a desperate despair, as when one is tortured by
a raging tooth, he probes, and grinds and shakes the offending
member, self-inflicting yet more exquisite pain, but bearing it
better, under the insane impression that he is wreaking revenge
upon its cause ; saying, with the poor Dutchman, " ache on !
ache on ! I can stand it as long as you can I" And "ache on !
ache on !" said Ida to her heart, " the nerve will be dead by and
by!"

We consign to the lower pit of darkness the bloody demons,
cloaked in priestly stole, and " speaking great, swelling words of
wisdom" and peace, who tore limb from limb upon the rack, in
" zeal for the Faith !" but for him who pours out his atheistical
misanthropy, deadening, petrifying the soul, and blinding the
eyes, until in this, our lovely earth, they see but a mighty char-
nel-house, full of nameless abominations ; who traduces God, in
despising His noblest work, and says : " Behold the Truth !" the
murderer of the heart, what shall be his portion !

Carry Carleton's liking for the company of "that proud,
disagreeable girl," and her defence of her when attacked, was a
nine days' wonder. True, she loved everybody," but here she
manifested partiality, far more than accorded with her school-
mates' notions of justice and reason. Carry was unwavering.
" I likaher," said she, one recess, when her corps of affectionate
teazers hung on and about her. "It wounds me to hear you
speak disparagingly of her. You must admit that she has
redeeming traits. She is one of our best scholars, and if in-
accessible, is upright and honorable, and will not stoop to do an
ignoble action."

46 ALONE.

" Yes/' said Etnrna Glenn, happy to add her mite of praise,
"Don't you remember she found Julia Mason's composition
behind a desk in the cloak room, and brought it in examination
day, although she knew that she was her most dangerous com-
petitor for the prize ? I'm afraid I should have been tempted to
keep it, or leave it where it was."

"I should not be afraid to trust you, dear/' said Carry.
" You are too ready to commend such conduct in others, to act a
contrary part yourself. As for Ida have any of you reflected
how much of what you call her pride you are accountable for 1"

" We ! how ?" was the unanimous exclamation.

" I know my misdeeds are legion, and my good works, like
Parson Wilkins' text, way off and hard to find/ but ' evil,'
indeed, as well as ' few, have been the years of my pilgrimage/
if I had anything to do with the 'formation of Ida Ross' char-
acter I". said Ellen Morris, clasping her hands deprecatingly.

Ellen ! Ellen !" remonstrated Carry, think what effect a
remark like that would produce ! Would it increase her confi-
dence in you or us ? Would she not avoid us more then ever ?
She is an orphan, and should be dealt with more charitably, than
if her feelings had expanded in a home like yours."

"You do not believe she could love anybody !" said one of the
group.

Certainly I do, and I mean she shall love me. You would
make the same resolution, if you knew her as I do."

" An idea strikes me, Carry," said the incorrigible Ellen

" She and we have affinity for each other water and oil you
are the alkali, which is to reconcile us; we shall be a soap
manufactory, to cleanse and regenerate the world."

" A little vinegar facilitates the process, does it not ?" asked
Carry, good-humoredly.

" You have come to a poor market for it, my good Alkali;
upon second thoughts, you must leave me out of the combination
altogether salt, Attic, particularly, being detrimental to the
integrity of the article in question."

" Soap boiling and Attica !" said Anna Talbot, who was read-
ing a little apart, your conversation takes an extended range
to-day, young ladies."

" Both are warm places," returned Ellen. " Our imaginations

ALONE. 47

needed thawing after perching so long upon the North Polo,
id cst, Ida Ross."

" You have offended Carry," said Emma, apprehensively, as
the former walked towards the other room.

" Not offended, but grieved," she replied, with sweet gravity.
"I should not love Ellen as I do, if I did not believe her heart
to be ofteuer in the right place than her tongue."

She passed into the recitation room, and there, her head bent
upon a desk, was Ida ! Carry was transfixed with dismay. Tho
door was a-jar she had heard it all ! But the relaxed limbs
the unmoving figure was she then asleep ? A minute's stay
' confirmed this opinion ; and greatly relieved, she tripped lightly
out by another door. Ida did not sleep. She had left the larger
room at the close of morning recitations, seeking in the com-
parative quiet of this, some ease from a severe headache. She
did not think of concealment. After the gossip of the thought-
less circle turned upon herself, she still supposed that her
vicinity was known ; that their pretended unconsciousness was a
covering for a renewal of mortifications. To move would have
been matter for triumph, she was not disposed to supply. So
unjust does suspicion make us !

Carry's disinterested vindication electrified her. To risk the
forfeiture of the favor of the many, for one who had never con-
ferred an obligation whose good will could profit her nothing !
in her experience, the act lacked a parallel. " Can it be," she
thought, with stirring pulses, " can it be that I may yet find a
friend?" then, as Carry's "I am resolved she shall love me,"
reached her, she bowed in thankfulness. " I will trust ! will
stake my last hope of ever meeting a kindred spirit upon this
throw will let her love me if she will, so help me God !" It
was no light vow.

Carry's intrusion was unobserved ; she was only sensible of the
incalescence of her frozen heart. The afternoon was cloudy,
and her maid was surprised to see her mistress preparing for her
promenade.

"Indeed, Miss Ida, you'll get caught in the shower; 'twont
be no little sprinkle, neither. When its starts to rain this time
o' year, it never holds up."

" Oh, well !" returned Ida, familiarly, if we have another

48 ALONE.

deluge, I may as well be out of doors as in. But give me my
cloak, Rachel, I must have a short run before it sets in."

Josephine crossed the hall as she was going out. She stared,
but made no remark upon her unseasonable excursion. It was
less wonderful than the smile and nod she received. "It is
pleasant," said Ida to herself, "yet they talked of rain!" But
the siorm was -not to be delayed by inward sunshine. The
smoky fog grew denser; through the ominous calm which per-
vaded the city, the roaring of the distant " Falls" was distinctly
audible ; cows stood, solemnly herded together, the vapor from
their nostrils scarcely thicker than the surrounding atmosphere ;
and an occasional rain-drop trickling down their roughened
hides. Then the pavement was spotted with the precursors of
the prognosticated deluge, and a dash of spray into Ida's face
restored her to the perception of her actual position : a mile from
home, night and a tempest approaching. Ere a dozen steps
were retraced, she was met by the shower, November rain,
cutting and numbing as hail. Her veil, flimsy defence for her
face, was dripping in a moment, and the water streamed in
miniature cascades from her bonnet and shoulders. Bewildered
and dizzy, she sprang, without a thought, except the instinct
of self-preservation, into the shelter of a friendly porch. She
laughed, despite her uneasiness at her situation. " Wet, not
quite to the skin, but more damp than is comfortable ; sans
umbrella, over-shoes, carriage or servant, and where, I cannot
precisely determine."

"Walk in, do!" said a pleasant voice behind her. A lady
was holding the open door. "I thank you," Ida began, when a
figure glanced out of the entry. " Why, Ida ! my dear creature !
how wet you are ! don't stand there a moment. I am so glad
you ran in ! This is my sister, Mrs. Dana my friend, Miss
Ross now we will go directly up stairs, and take off your damp
things !" and in the confusion of congratulations and regrets, Ida
did not know where she was, until she was seated in Carry's
room ; both sisters occupied in divesting her of such portions of
her apparel, as were likely, by their humidity, to endanger her
health.

" You are very kind," she said ; " but I cannot wait to have
these dried. I must go home."

ALONE. 49

" Impossible !" cried the impulsive Carry. " I will not hear
of it. Just make up your mind to stay in your present quarters
until clear weather."

" Let me insist upon your staying, Miss Ross ;" said Mrs.
Dana. " I will send a messenger to your friends to inform them
of your safety."

" She will stay," said Carry, looking very positive.

Ida yielded with secret pleasure. Her guardian angel must
have guided her into this haven. Mrs. Dana was Carry's senior
by ten years or more, and resembled her more in voice and man-
ner, than feature. They had the same kind eyes and dimpling
smile. Having seen her guest comfortable, she gave her into
Carry's charge, and went to forward her message to Mr. Read.
" How it rains !" said Carry, drawing aside the curtain. " It ia
lucky you came when you did. Did you know we lived here ?"

" No, it was entirely accidental. I was walking, and did not
notice the clouds until the shower came ; then I took refuge in
the nearest house."

"A happy accident for me," said Carry. "I despaired of
ever persuading you to visit me. This storm was sent for my
express benefit. Sister and I are never tired of each other's
company; but the little ones demand much of her time;
and brother John Mr. Dana, often brings home writing, or
is detained at the store late at night, in the busy season, and
I am rather lonely."

" You are bent upon convincing me that all the obligation is
on your side/' returned Ida : " but compare the mermaid-like
fright which - shocked you, with the decent young lady before
you now, and recollect that my gratitude is proportionate to the
improvement."

A pretty little girl, about five years old, crept into the room.

"Come to aunt. Elle !" said Carry. "And speak to this
lady."

The child came up timidly to Ida, and slid her plump hand
into hers. She did not struggle, as she lifted her into her lap,
but looked steadfastly at her with her soft black eyes. " What
is your name ?" asked Ida.

" Elinor Dana," she answered, in her clear, childish voice.
5

50 ALONE.

" Elinor I" repeated Ida, and the little one felt herself pressed
more closely to her breast."

" Do you like it ?" inquired Carry.

" It was my mother's name I" was the low reply. Elle put
up her lips for a kiss. She saw a pained look flit over the
countenance of the visitor, and administered the only panacea
she possessed.

" Is she your sister's eldest child ?" asked Ida, repaying the
caress.

" Yes. She has two younger j a boy and a girl. The babe is
my namesake."

" My brother is named Charles Arthur ; after uncle Charley
and uncle Arthur," ventured Elle.

And you love him very dearly, do you not ?" said Ida.

" Yes ma'am ; I love papa and mamma, and aunt Carry, and
uncle Charley, and uncle Arthur, and grandpa, and sister and
brother," said the child, running over the names with a volu-
bility that showed how used she was to the repetition.

" Will you love me too ?" asked Ida. The anxiety with which
she awaited the reply will not be sneered at by those who have
been, like her, starvelings in affection.

" Yes, you too, but I don't know what to call you."

" My name is Ida."

" Miss Ida, or cousin Ida?''

" Cousin I" exclaimed Ida, catching at the word. " Call me
cousin !"

" Elle claims as relatives, all whom she loves," observed Carry;
" and we encourage her in the practice. Miss is formal ; and the
absence of any such prefix gives a disrespectful air to a child's
address."

" She speaks of her uncles. Have you brothers ?"

" She alludes to Mr. Dana's brothers," said Carry, with a
slight blush, which Ida remembered afterwards. "They were
wards of my father's; and we regard them as a part of the
family."

Ida amused herself by coaxing forth Elle's prattle; and
related, as reward for her sociability, a marvellous fairy tale,
which expanded her eyes to their utmost circle, and interested
even Carry. Mrs. Dana entered at the finale.

ALOE. 51

" Papa has come, Elle, and would be happy to see Miss Ross.
Tea is ready, too. I hope she has not annoyed you," to Ida.

" Annoyed ! oh no, ma'am ! we are good friends, and have had
a nice. talk, have we not, darling?"

Playing with a child is a very puerile amusement what room
is there for the exercise of the reasoning faculties ; what oppor-
tunity for gaining new views of the -world or of 'truth? Still
Ida was happier, and ^she was silly enough to think, wiser. A
germ was set, which should be developed by and by.

Mr. Dana was in the supper-room. He was tall and dark,
grave-looking when silent ; but as he acknowledged the intro-
duction to herself, and stooped to kiss Elle, his smile rendered
him exceedingly handsome. The proud tenderness of his wife
was beautiful to behold ; and he unbent all that was stern in his
nature, in her presence, or Carry's. The repast went off delight-
fully. There were no sarcastic flings at society and individuals,
and clash of combat, imperfectly drowned by courteous phrase-
ology, such as characterized similar occasions at Mr. Read's.
Free to act and speak, without dread of criticism, Ida acquitted
herself well. She and her entertainers were equally charmed ;
and Carry sat by, contented with the success of her benevolent
efforts. Mr. Dana's business required his attention immediately
after supper; Mrs. Dana sat with the girls awhile, then repaired
to her nursery. "We shall not be troubled by visitors to-night,"
said Carry. " What say you to adjourning to our chamber ? It
is more snug than these empty parlors."

They visited the nursery in their way. Elle opened ner eyes
as her friend kissed her coral lips, but their lids fell again
directly, and her "good night" died in a drowsy murmur. The
boy was sleeping soundly, and little Carry lay quietly wakeful
upon her mother's lap. " These are my treasures," said the
fond parent, smiling at Ida's admiration of the group."

" Treasures she would not barter for the wealth of both
Indies," added Carry. " You are a diplomatist, Ida, you have
found sister's blind side by praising her pets."

" You, who are so accustomed to these pretty playthings, do
not know how lovely they are to one who is not so favored,"
replied Ida.

"Ah! there you are in error. No one can love the sweet

62 ALONE.

angels as I do, except the mother who bore them. Now," con-
tinued she, when they were in their room, taking from a ward-
robe two dressing-gowns, " I move that we don these, and make
ourselves comfortable generally."

And cozily comfortable they appeared, ensconced in arm-
chairs, in front of that most sparkling of coal-fires ; a waiter of
apples and nuts sent up by thoughtful Mrs. Dana, on a stand
between them ; shutters and curtains closed, and the storm
roaring and driving without.

" I no longer wonder at your cheerfulness, since I have seen
your home/' said Ida. "All the good things of life are mingled
in your cup."

" You are right. I am very happy, but not more so than hun-
dreds of others. My contentment would be grievously marred,
if I suspected this was not so."

" Fraternizing again. I have reflected and observed much
since our talk in the cemetery, and am almost persuaded that you
have chosen the easiest method of living ; that where ignorance
is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise.' Your system has brought most
pleasure thus far, whether it will endure the test of time and
experience, is another question."

" You alarm me," answered Carry. " Your vague hints
excite my curiosity, yet do not indicate the description of dan-
gers I am to encounter. Let us understand each other as the
Methodist class-leaders have it, 'tell our experiences.' "

" Mine may be briefly summed up," said Ida, sadly.

' The frigid and unfeeling thrive the best;
And a warm heart in this cold world, is like
A beacon light; wasting its feeblo light
Upon the wintry deep, that feels it not
Trembling with each pitiless blast that blows,
'Till its faint firo is spent.' "

" You have known this ?" asked Carry.

In all its bitterness !"

" And the writer felt, or thought he felt the foige of their
meaning, when "he penned the lines. Have you ever met with
a warm heart besides your own ?"

" Yes, one the home of excellence and .affection."

" Then, ' this cold world' has produced three, to whom its
biting atmosphere was uncongenial may there not be more?

ALONE. 53

I look into my bosom, and discover there charity and good-will
towards men ; why should I deny the existence of like feelings
in those who are partakers of the same nature, in all other
respects?"

" Fair logic j but let us examine facts. Take an example so
frequently cited, as to appear hacknied, yet none the less true
to nature. Your wealth, or situation, or influence enables you
to benefit those who style themselves your friends. You are
courted, beloved, popular. A change in these adventitious cir-
cumstances alters everything. With unabated desires for love
or distinction, you are a clod of the earth, a cumberer of the
ground. The stream of adulation flows in another direction;
former acquaintances pass you with averted eyes, or chilling
recognitions ; you are sought by no new ones. Men do not go
to a barren tree, or a dried fountain. You shake your head ;
this is not a fancy sketch. Listen to a leaf from my history.
Until two years ago I never received a harsh word, or an unlov-
ing look. My mother was the benefactress of the poor, for
miles around, and I was her almoner. Blessings and smiles
hailed me wherever I went. I had no conception of sorrows
she could not alleviate ; and I remember thinking foolish child
that I was ! that her empire of hearts was worth the glory of an
Alexander or Napoleon. She died ! and where are the fruits of
her loving kindness? If her memory lives in another breast
than that of her only child, I do not know it I"

There were tears in Carry's eyes, already, and the slight
tremor of her speech was grateful music to the orphan's ear.

" You quitted your home, and all who knew her, and came
to a strange city, where it was necessary for you to earn love as
she had done. I have no doubt, nay, I am sure, that by the
creatures of her bounty, her memory is preserved as a holy
thing ; and that they are ready to extend the affection they had
for her, to her child. Here, she was comparatively unknown.
To carry out your metaphor of the tree, the graft cut from the
parent stock must bear fruit for itself. I know the world is
generally selfish, but I am convinced that our reprobation of it
often arises from the growth of a similar weakness in ourselves.
May it not be that the dearth of love, so painfully felt by you,
proceeds in part, from the ignorance of your associates as to the
5*

64 ALON E.

real state of your mind, or from an exacting spirit in yourself I
Pardon my freedom ; it is meant in kindness."

" I thank you for your candor. The truth, if unpalatable,
cannot offend.'

" Then, trusting to your forbearance, I will go more into par-
ticulars. To curry favor, in school, or elsewhere, is as repugnant
to me as to you ; but do we sacrifice self-respect, by swaying
to the popular voice, when no abandonment of principle is
required? or play the hypocrite, in concealing prejudices and
humors that conflict with the sentiments of others ' } in uniting,
with apparent willingness, in the common cause ? We cannot
like we may help all. I say it in humility there is one rule
by which I do not fear to be judged: 'Whatsoever ye would
that men should do unto you, do ye even so to them.' ;;

" I understand your allusions. You think my reserve pro-
ceeds from pride alone. What if I were to tell you" and her
voice sank, " that haughty as I seem, I would cringe lie in the
dust to the most inferior of my daily companions, if she would
give me love. Believe me, it is this unquenchable thirst this
longing for what is unattainable by me, which has forced me to
court its opposite hate ! I will not lay my heart bare to those
who would spurn it. It is said, the hind seeks an obscure covert,
to die from the wound for which his unhurt comrades would
shun him. You cannot know it would be improper for me to
recount my fruitless endeavors to win the coveted blessing, at
any price, even the loss of the self-respect you imagine I value
so highly. It is enough that experiences, such as I hope may
never be yours, have taught me to entrench myself in my for-
tress of self-confidence, from whence I hurl disdain upon besieg-
ing powers. I am thought independent ; the world has made
me so. No woman is independent from nature or choice."

Carry looked musingly in the fire. " I am not certain," she
said, that I have a right to repeat what was told me, by one
who never thought that you would hear it. I do not see, how-
ever, that it can do harm, and I wish to show you, that I am
not ignorant of some of your trials. A friend of mine, whose
name I am not at liberty to mention, was in F 's paint-
ing-rooms on the afternoon of your visit. The artist was an
acquaintance, and having letters to write, he ofiered to occupy

ALONE. 55

his desk while Mr. F should seek recreation. He was an

auditor of Josephine's Read's garbled story of our church-yard
adventure; he had heard a true statement from me. Had my
name been used, as it would have been if she had known who
your companion was, he would have spoken. As it was, his indig-
nation nearly got the better of his prudence. He identified you
as the heroine of the tale, by the significant gestures and winks
of the ill-mannered party, and commended your equanimity and
forbearance."

" He did not add, that his timely warning suppressed the
responsive storm ?" said Ida.

"Why! did he speak?"

" No. He only looked, but such a look !"

Carry laughed. He is a strange mortal ! But to return to
yourself. . These exhibitions of depravity and cold-heartedness,
are not adapted to raise our estimate of mankind; yet even
then, there was one present, who was on the side of right and
humanity; who saw no cause for mirth in the sufferings of a
child, or the anxieties of two inexperienced girls."

" Dr. Ballard did, it seems," said Ida, the gloomy look
returning.

" Did Josephine hear of the affair from him ?"

" I suppose so. Who else knew it ?"

" True. But is it not more probable that she gave it her
own coloring, than, that he made a jest of us? We will lean
towards mercy in our judgment."

" You are a veritable alchemist," said Ida. You would
ferret out gold, even in the dross of my character."

" Try me !" replied Carry. " But bear in mind, nothing is
to be secreted; no hard thoughts or jaundiced investigations.
All must be cast into the crucible."

" And tried by what fire ?" inquired Ida.

" Love 1" said the warm-hearted girl, kneeling beside her,
and winding her arms about her waist. Love me, Ida ! and
if I prove heartless and deceitful, I will cease to plead for my
brothers and sisters."

The glad tears that impearled her bright locks, replied.

66 ALONE.

CHAPTER VI.

" TEACH me to gain hearts as you do 1" Ida prayed, on the
memorable evening of the storm, and Carry answered, blithely,
" Love, and live for others !"

To her, natural disposition and practice made the task easy ;
for her pupil, it was arduous beyond her worst expectation. Her
reputation was established; the wall she had erected between
herself and her associates, was not to be undermined or scaled
in a day. Her overtures of familiarity and service was unskil-
fully made ; her very timidity construed into labored con-
descension. " It is a hopeless endeavor they will never care
for me !" said she, despondingly once and again, and Carry
still predicted " Love will win love. Persevere !" The birth
and growth of their attachment was remarkable. Dissimilar in
mind," made more so in manner, by education and circumstances,
there existed from the earliest stage of their friendship, perfect
confidence in each other's affection. Carry had an infallible
perception of genuine worth, hidden though it might be ; and
Ida clung drowningly to this last anchor the sole tie that con-
nected her with her race. Like most deep feelings, its current
was noiseless. They were much together; that was not strange,
since their studies were the same. They had separate compart-
ments of one desk ; and none marked how often one book was
conned by both; brown and fair curls mingling; and hands
clasped in mute tenderness. Still less did they dream of the
miraculous confluence of the sun-bright stream with the turbid
torrent, and the wondrous music of their flow.

They were sitting thus one forenoon, when an assistant teacher
drew near, and inquired if there were a vacant seat in their
vicinity.

" A new scholar !" buzzed from fifty tongues; and the eyea
of our two students strayed with the rest, to the door.

" Miss Pratt, young ladies !" introduced Mr. Purcell.

The girls arose, in conformance with their custom of recep-
tion, and bowed to the figure that followed him into the room.

ALONE. ' 57

She was short and fat " dumpy/' in vulgar parlance ; and so
homely, as to countenance Ellen Morris' report to another
department " that the farmers in the neighborhood where she
was riz/ had forwarded a petition, beseeching her to return,
their corn having suffered greatly from the depredations of the
crows *since her departure; a thing unheard of, previously, in
that part of the country." Her eyes were small and grey ; hei
nose a ruddy " snub;" her lips curiously puckered up ; and her
skin might have owed its dappled red to the drippings of the
carroty frizette overshadowing it. Her dress was showy and
outr6; a rainbow silk trebly-flounced ; an embroidered lace cape ;
white kid gloves ; a gold cable of startling dimensions ; two
bracelets of corresponding size, and different patterns ; a brooch
that matched neither, and out-glittered both ; while blue, green,
and red stones, with heavy settings, loaded the thick fingers to
the knuckles.

Awe of their preceptor in some, good breeding in others,
prevented any audible outbreak of amusement ; but what school
girl on the gui vive for diversion could keep from smiling ? Mr.
Purcell frowned as his eye travelled from one mirthful face to
another, but a twinkle from Ellen Morris' dancing orbs neutra-
lized the effort j and there was a perceptible twitch of his risible
muscle as he rapped for "order." Ida and Carry had not
escaped the contagion, an indulgence for which they reproached
themselves.

" Poor girl !" whispered Carry. " She knows no better. She
is to be pitied instead of laughed at." And Ida thought of her
loneliness, upon her induction into these strange scenes. "I can
lesson her discomfort, and, uninfluenced by prejudice, she will be
thankful, perhaps will become fond of me."

Carry read her resolve in her thoughtful survey of the stran-
ger; but while she loved and honoured her for .it, her heart
misgave her as she looked more attentively at the object of the
purposed charity. Her physiognomy was not more irregular
than unpleasant in its expression. She had opened a book, to be
in the fashion in this as in every thing else, but her regards were
wandering around the room in scared yet unblushing curiosity,
flustered at being in a crowd, without a doubt as to her ability
to cope with the best of them. Before the exercises of the

58 ALONE.

forenoon wero concluded, she was summoned to see a visitor, and
did not reappear before intermission. Then Ida, having occasion
to go into a small room, where bonnets and cloaks were hung,
found her standing at the window, crying She wheeled about
sharply on hearing a step; her eyes swelled almost out of sight,
and her whole appearance frightful in its disorder.

"What do you want?" she asked, querulously.

" I did not know you were here," said Ida. " What is the
matter ? Are you 'sick ? Can I help you ?"

" No. My pa's gone away 1" A fresh burst.

Gone ! where ?"

" Gone home ! and I don't want to stay in this nasty, mean
place. I don't want to go to school no more nowhar !"

To hint at the obvious propriety of the deprecated measure
was a temptation policy bade her resist, and Ida was ' actually
nonplussed in casting about in her mind for appropriate consola-
tion.

" You will like us better than you expect," she said, rather
awkwardly ; " and your father will come soon to see you again
will he not ?"

" Yes ; he's comin' next week. He is a representative !"
mouthing the word magniloquently.

"A what?"

" He belongs to the legislator. Lor ! didn't you know that?"

" No," replied Ida, humbly ; " I am so little conversant with
State affairs. You will be glad to have him so near."

" I don't care much about it ; I want to go home and stay
with ma !" beginning to sob. Neither her unpolished manners,
nor her accent, combining, as it did, the most vicious of Virginia
provincialisms, with the gutturals of the African ; nor her noisy
grief, could make Ida forget that she was a home-sick child
weeping for her mother ! SJie too had mourned, and " refused
to be comforted, because hers was not." Miss Pratt's sorrow,
however, was very garrulous.

" Now, at home," she continued, " I did jest as I pleased ; I
lay down most all day. Ma said reading was bad for my head ;
and so 'tis; it makes me as stupid as I don't know what; and
aint no use besides. I can play on the pianny ; gentlemen don't

ALONE. 59

care for nothing else when they go to see the ladies. You all
don't have no beaux while you're at school, do you ?"

Ida smiled at this unlocked for query. " We do not have
much leisure for amusements," she rejoined.

" And can't you go to the theatre, and to shows and parties ?"
asked Miss Pratt, alarmed.

"There are no rules on the subject; but it is thought that a
young lady is better fitted to go into society, when her mind and
manners are formed by time and study."

" Mine are enough formed, I know/' complacently glancing
from her attire to Ida's plain merino, and black silk apron.
" How awful ugly all the girls dress ! Aint none of 'em rich ?"

" I believe so ; but the school-girls here dress simply."

"/shan't! My pa's able to give me decent clothes, and I
mean to have 'em. I don't like Richmond a single bit. Nobody
don't take no more notice of me than if [ wan't nobody no
better than other folks."

" You are not acquainted yet. There are some pleasant girls
amongst us ; and you will love Mr. Purcell."

" Is he strict, much ? Does he make you get hard lessons 1"

" He is very kind and considerate."

" I despise teachers and books. Thank patience ! I am going
to turn out after this session. Ma was married at fifteen, and
I'm going on seventeen."

I am quite seventeen, but I am not tired of books. When
I leave school, I shall adopt a regular plan of study and
reading."

" Good gracious ! Why, don't you expect to get married ?
What are you going to learn so much for ? I reckon you're
going. to teach school."

"No; I study because I like to do it."

" Pshaw ! you talk like your teacher was in the room. I
don't believe that."

" The school-bell I" interrupted Ida, happy to be released.

Miss Pratt hung back. " I don't want to go where all them
girls are. Will Mr. What's-his-name be mad if I stay here?"

" He will probably send for you."

" Then I might's well go now. I don't care I'm as good ag
any of ; em."

60 ALONE.

" What, and who is she ?" inquired Carry, when school was
out.

" A silly, neglected child," responded her friend. " Shame-
fully ignorant, when we consider her father's station. He is a
member of the legislature."

" Ah ! can it be the delegate from A ? I have heard of

him. He is a clever politician, and an educated man. I am
astonished !"

So were all who made the acquaintance of his daughter. Mr.
Pratt had done his best to serve his country and increase his
fortune. The rearing of his children was confided to a weak and
foolishly fond mother. The only girl was alternately stuffed and
dosed, until the modicum of intellectual strength nature might
have granted her, was nearly destroyed ; the arable soil exhausted
by the rank weed growth. It was just after his election to the
House of Eepresentatives, that the father made simultaneously
two astounding discoveries that physically, his daughter was
no longer a child, and that she was a dunce. He had paid a
teacher to superintend her education, and supposed she had done
her duty ; whereas, the prudent governess, having little more
sense than her pupil, and loving her ease fully as well, had en-
joyed her sinecure of a situation with no compunctious visitings
of conscience. She acted " according to Mrs. Pratt's instruc-
tions." It was a thunderbolt to the feminine trio when the
Representative introduced a bill of amendment, paid the soi-
disant instructress for the work she had not performed, inform-
ing her that her services were at an end ; and ordered the mother
to resign her spoiled child to him, " he would see what could be
done towards redeeming the time." He carried his point in the
teeth of a windy and watery tempest, and " Miss Celestia Pratt"
was duly entered on the roll-book of Mr. Purcell's justly cele-
brated institution. She soon ceased to complain that she was not
noticed. The second day of her attendance she fell in with
Ellen Morris and her coterie. By the time the half hour's recess
was over, they were enlightened as to her past life, and future
aspirations, and supplied with the material of a year's fun-making;
while she was reinstated in her self-consequence, and ready to
Btrike hands with them in any scheme they chalked out.

ALONE. 61

It is a shame," said Ida, who, with Carry kept aloof,
silent spectators. " Cannot she see what they are doing ?"

" It will be a severe, but perhaps a salutary lesson," replied
Carry.

" But the poor creature will be the butt of the school."

" And of the community," said Carry. " I have reasoned
with Ellen ; she is not evil disposed, but would compass sea
and land for as rich a joke as this promises to be. My influence
can effect nothing."

"What if I warn the girl?" said Ida. Must she pay the
penalty of her parent's fault ?"

" My darling," returned Carry, affectionately, " I am learning
prudence from you, and I verily believe I have imparted to you
some of my inconsiderateness. What hold have you on this Miss
Pratt's confidence? Ellen and her clique are as likely to be in
the right as yourself. In her estimation they are more entitled
to credence. They play upon the string of self you will utter
a distasteful truth. Let her and them alone, except so far as
your individual self is concerned. Attract each one to you, and
you may be the means of bringing them together."

Ellen Morris burst into the school-room one morning in a
gale of excitement.

It was early, and none of" the teachers were present, the girls
were gathered in knots about the stove and desks.

Oh girls !" she cried, " I hurried to get here before my angel
Celestia. I have the best thing to tell you. You must know
she and I were invited, with several others, to take tea at Uncle
James' last evening. We had not been there long before aunt
said that Mr. Dermott was expected. I have it/ thought I. I
gave Celestia a nudge, { Do you hear that ?'

"'What?' said she.

" The great traveller, Mr. Dermott, is to be here presently.
Ain't you glad ?'

" Who is he ? I never heard of him.'

" Oh Celestia! and you a representative's daughter ! and he

invited expressly to meet you it is well no one overheard you

and you have not composed your conversation either ? What

will you do? He is one of the famous authors you hear so much

6

62 ALONE.

of. They will make a statue of him when he dies, like "Wash-
ington in the capitol, you know.'

" ' You don't say so !'

" ' Yes, and he has seen the seven wonders of the world, and
elephants, and rhinoceros, and polypi, and hippopotami, and
Dawalageri, and anthropophagi/

"' Good gracious!' said she, looking wild, 'You reckon he
will speak to me ? do tell me something to say !'

" ' Could you repeat those names ?'

t That I couldn't, to save my life !'

" Well, let me see, you must be very sober and wise ;
only saying 'yes' and 'no/ till he gets to talking of books.
Then is the time to show off. Literary people never inquire
what you remember in a book, if you say you have read it.'

" ' Yes,' she struck in, with a grin. ' So when he asks me if
I've read them he's talking about, I'm a-going to say 'yes'
(you know she is always ' going, going, gone.') ' He aint a-go-
ing to catch me, I'll show him !'

" ' Eight,' said I; ' and question him about two or three,
which you name yourself; that will finish the business.'

" I don't know none.'

' Don't you ? Then I will write off a short list. Keep the
paper in your hand; and when he is fairly under way talking,
you steal a sly peep at it.' Oh ! it was enrapturing to see how
she held on to that slip of paper ! poring over it every five
minutes before Mr. Dermott's arrival, and once in two minutes
afterwards. She would study it for a second, then her lips would
move, until the time for another peep ; she was getting it by
heart, staring at him all the while. . By and by he happened to
be near her ; and said something about the Panorama. She had
been on tiptoe for the last hour, lest her trouble should be thrown
away ; and resolved not to lose this opportunity, she spoke out
as loudly as addressing a deaf person

" ' Mr. Dermarclc ! have you ever read Plutarch-es Liv-es,
Homer's Eyelids, Dance's Diving Comedy and Campbell's Gra-
titude of Wimming ?' I wish you could have seen him !"

" Ellen ! Ellen !" chorussed twenty voices ; and the crowd
rocked in uncontrollable merriment. Carry, and one or two

ALONE. 63

more were grave ; and an indignant voice said, " How wickedly
heartless !"

There was no mistaking the meaning and emphasis of the
interjection. Ellen crimsoned to the roots of her hair. She
retorted with a spirit entirely opposite to her usual sportive
gaiety.

" One, whose lowest thoughts soar so far above the common
herd, as Miss Ross, cannot be expected to understand a piece of
harmless pleasantry."

Ida had unluckily employed the oft-quoted words, " the com-
mon herd of mankind," in a written composition ; and this was
not the first time it had been used as an offensive missile.

" One must stoop low indeed, Miss Morris," was the instant
rejoinder, "to see harmless pleasantry in a plot for the disgrace
of an unoffending school-mate."

" Ida! Ellen I" exclaimed Carry, laying her hand upon Ellen's
mouth, and stifling her reply. " For my sake, girls if not for
your own say no more ! Ida ! what have you to do with this
miserable affair ?"

I have done !" said Ida, bitterly j Defence of right and
truth is better left unattempted here !"

The girls fell back as she crossed to her seat. The sentence
sank into every mind ; and the expression of each one showed
that she appropriated it. Carry's head dropped upon Ellen's
shoulder ; and sullenly vindictive as was the latter, she was not
unmoved by the quiver of the slender frame. Mr. Purcell's
entrance put an end to the scene. That was a wretched day to
more than one heart. Ida's was well-nigh bursting. It mattered
not that her prospects of popularity were, for the presen-t, ship-
wrecked j that her resolutions of patience and gentleness had
broken, like dry straws, at the breeze of passion ; Carry was
wounded perhaps offended perhaps estranged ! Still, what
have I done ?" whispered pride, " spoken truth, and defended
the absent!" But conscience answered "Anger, not justice
was the prompter," and again, every feeling merged in one
" What will Carry think ?" She did not offer her book as usual
did not meet her eye. She would have read no resentment
there ; the pale, sad face told of suffering, with no admixture of
baser motives. The intermission was dull. Miss Celestia's

64 ALONE.

extravagant description of " the party," and " the gentlewim"
she " was interduced to," hardly excited a smile. A nameless
depression was upon all. Ellen, their ringleader in mischief,
and Carry, the willing participant in their innocent pleasures,
were wanting from their band. They remained at their desks,
seemingly engaged in study, until almost school-time, when
Carry went around to the other, whispered a word; and they
left the apartment together. They returned arm in arm, as Ida,
who had gone home in recess, more to be quieted and refreshed
by the cool air, than for luncheon, entered from the street.
She remarked their affectionate air, and happier faces with
goading envy. "Ellen is worth conciliating. It would *be
dangerous to break with her. There can be no hesitancy, with
the fair words of the crowd in one scale and Ida Ross, unknown
and unbeloved, in the other. Be it so !" But awakened affec-
tion had had a taste of its proper nutriment, and was not to be
famished into silence. The afternoon wore heavily away in the
unspoken anguish of love and pride and suspicion. Careless of
remarks or conjectures, she declined dinner, and retired at once
to her chamber, when she reached home. It might have been
one hour ; it might have been three, that she had knelt or laid
upon the floor, her head upon a stool, before the mourner for
the dead bird ; weeping and thinking, and seeming to grow a
year older with each flood of grief; when there came a tap at the
door. " Josephine !" was the first thought to spring to the
mirror, brush the tumbled hair, and dash rosewater over the
discolored cheeks, the work of the next minute ; then she said
sleepily" Who is there ?"

It is I Carry I"

The bolt was withdrawn, and the intruder lay, sobbing upon
her breast.

0h, Ida ! how could you be angry with me?"

Ida struggled with the answering drops, but they would come.

" I thought you had thrown me off, Carry !"

"You could not after my note."

" Your note !"

" I slipped it into your French Grammar, as it lay open before
your eyes ; and you shut the book and put it aside, I supposed
to read it at your leisure."

ALONE. 65

I did not see it."

She went to her satchel, and brought forth the Grammar.
There it is I" said Carry, as a folded paper fell from within it.
Do not read it. I will tell you its contents. I asked your
forgiveness for interrupting you so rudely this morning; but
these public disputes lead to so much evil. Ellen was wrong ;
she has said so to me ; and is ready to be your friend, if you
consent. Her conduct was blameably thoughtless ; and her
quick temper could not submit to a rebuke so openly administered.
I was abrupt, but it was not because I was angry with, or did
not love you. Ellen's taunt was extremely provoking"

"Stop! stop! Carry! It is I, who should sue for pardon,
and excuse, if I can, my unbecoming heat, and after doubts of
your friendship. I cannot tell you what a fearful warfare has
waged within me ; how much incensed I was to see you and
Ellen come in so lovingly, at noon ; how Ishmael-like I felt ;
every man's hand against me, and mine against the universe,
and Him who made it," she added, with an intonation of awe.
" Can you love me after hearing this, Carry ?"

" Always always 1"

Ellen was amazed, that afternoon, on being summoned to
receive visitors, to find in them her two class-mates, and more
astounded to hear from her antagonist of the morning, a frank
and graceful apology for her hasty strictures upon her conduct
and words. Ellen was, as she phrased it, "great upon high-
flown speeches; but this was an extraordinary occasion, and
demanded a deviation from ordinary rules; so I condescended, for
once, to make use of simple language."

If simple, it was satisfactory, and they parted most amicably.
It was past sunset, when the friends arrived at Mr. Read's door.
Ida stood upon the steps, watching Carry, as she tripped away
into the dusk. Others would have seen only a pretty girl, with
a smile like May sunshine ; to the fond eyes that followed her,
she was an angel of love, upon whom nothing of e?il could gaze
without adoration and contrition ; and now the light of a new
blessing beaming upon her brow the blessing of the peace-
maker!

6*

ALONE

CHAPTER VII.

SPRING had departed, and the good citizens of Richmond
complained as piteously of the heat, as though every zephyr
that awoke for miles around, did not sweep over their seven
hills freighted with the perfume of gardens and groves, instead
of the reeking odors of a thronged city. And in our day, as
then, airy, spacious villas are forsaken, while their infatuated
denizens hie away to pay $50 per week, for a genteel sty, six
feet by ten ; with the privilege of eating such fare, as in the
event of its appearance upon their own boards, would find its
way back to the place where it was concocted, accompanied by
an anathematised warning to the cook ; and of gulping down
unwholesomely-copious draughts of a nauseous liquid, which the
stomach neither relishes, nor needs. There is dancing "all
night, 'till broad day-light," a dusty drive to assist the diges-
tion of- a breakfast, one's common sense, no less than the
digerent organs assures him is insured against chylifaction ;
promenading until dinner, which meal is taken in full dress ,
another drive, or an enervating siesta, and it is time to. dress for
supper ; then dancing again ; and at the end of " the season/'
the fashionable votaries return, jaded and debilitated, to home
and comfort, and tell you, with a ghastly smile, that they have
been ruralizing at the Carburretted, Sulphuretted, Chalybeate
Springs." Ruralising at the Springs ! sketching a landscape
from an Express train sleeping in a canal-boat reciprocating
ideas with a talkative woman !

Mr. Read came home to tea, on a sultry July evening, with
some crotchet in his brain. That could be seen with half an
eye j and Josephine was affable to a distressing degree, to coax
the stranger into an earlier incubation, than would occur without
artificial warmth. The effects of her Eccolodeon were presently
apparent.

When does your session close, Josey ?" he inquired.
On Friday, sir."

ALONE. 67

" Then you will be on your head to quit town, like everybody
else."

" I have no solicitude on the subject, sir. I am as indifferent
to it, as to many other things people rave about."

" You are your father's child, cool and hard 1" observed her
parent, with a gratified look.

" But for a novelty, what say you to a trip to Saratoga ?"

" I should like it, sir, if you accompany me."

" I have business which takes me in that direction, and I
thought, as you are to come out' next winter, it would sound
well to have made your debut at such a fashionable place."

Josephine smiled ; she could appreciate this argument. The
journey was discussed the expenses, dress, appearance, etc.
Ida sat by, taciturn and unconsulted. She had a motive iq
remaining. Finally, she contrived to throw in a word.

" I wish to inform you of my arrangements for the summer,
sir, if you have time to listen."

" Yours ! they are the same as ours, of course. Do you
imagine that I would -permit my daughter to travel without a
female companion, or give her an advantage, you are not to
share !"

The latter clause was so clearly an afterthought, and dove-
tailed so oddly with its antecedent, that Ida's smile was almost
a sneer.

" I am sorry, sir, that you are disappointed in your calcula-
tions; but as Josephine has a maid, I do not deem my attendance
indispensable. If I leave town, I shall go in another direction,
unless you positively forbid it."

" And what place is to be honored by your preference ? May
I presume to ask ?"

I shall go home with Miss Carleton."

"Ahem ! I comprehend. I should have anticipated this from
your overpowering intimacy. You have played your cards badly,
Josephine. Why have you not ingratiated yourself with some
divine creature,' who has a rich papa ? It is a capital means
of extending one's acquaintance, and sparing one's purse. How
long do you intend to sponge to remain, I mean, with your
friend, Miss Ross ?"

" I may not return before Christmas. I hear that the holi-

68 ALONE.

days are celebrated with much style and festivity, in the
country," she replied.

Mr. Read suppressed something very like an oath, at her
calm assurance.

" When do you go ?"

" Next Monday. Dr. Carleton is expected daily. Did I under-
stand you to say, that you did not object ?"

" Confound it ! what do I care where, or when you go ?"

" Oh Carry !" apostrophized Ida, shutting herself in her room.
" Even you could not be charitable and forbearing here. It is
hard ! hard ! K

" That is unquestionably the most wrong-headed girl I know,"
said Mr. Read, to his daughter.

" I am heartily glad she is not going with us," was the answer,
" She would be of no use to me, and an additional care to you."

" Maybe so, maybe not. Her travelling expenses would not
have come out of my pocket ; and there are advantages, some-
times, in having two ladies, a larger and better room, and such
like ; you pay the same price, and have twice the value of your
money. You understand ?"

" I don't care. I had rather sleep upon a pallet in a loft, by
myself, than in the handsomest room in the house, with her for
a room-mate. It frets me, though to see her airs ! I wish the
law allowed you absolute control."

" It wont do with her. If she suspected a design on my part
to abridge her liberties, or defraud her of her dues, she would as
lief enter a complaint against me as not. She has the temper
of the Evil One ; and watch as you may, will get the bit between
her teeth."

The carriage was at the door by six o'clock on Monday morn-
ing. Ida was ready; but her trunk was strapped on, and her
maid seated upon the box with the driver, before she appeared.
The truth was, she dreaded to me^it Dr. Carleton. She did not
recollect her own father, and had no agreeable associations
connected with any who bore that relation to her young
acquaintances. She was inclined to look upon the class, as a
set of necessary discords in life ; Mr. Read being the key-note.
Carry often spoke of her surviving parent with earnest affection ;
but Ida attributed this to a charity, that beheld no faults in

ALONE. 69

those she loved. The thought of her ride and visit would have
been unalloyed, but for this idiosyncrasy. " If he were like
Mr. Dana !" she said, going slowly down stairs. He was in the
porch, with Mr. Read and Carry. " My friend Ida, father,"
said Carry. He was not like Mr. Dana, better than that ! He
was the image of Carry her eyes, mouth and smile his locks,
although silvered by years, must in youth have waved in the
same golden curls. He was handsome yet, how could he be
otherwise ! and had she failed to love him at sight, the unaf-
fected geniality of his salutation would have captivated her.
She had not a care in the world, as she reclined in the carriage,
beside Carry, the revolving wheels bearing her towards the
country. Mr. Read and his feminine prototype were sign-posts,
marking rough and miry roads she had travelled; they were
troubles no more ; she was leaving them behind.

There had been a thunder-storm in the night, and in that
brief fit of passion, nature had wept away every unkind or un-
pleasant emotion. The sky wore that rich, soft, transparent hue,
which imparts its own pureness to the soul of him, who looks upon
it ; smilingly luring it to soar away, and steep itself in the blue
of its remembered home;" the forest-leaves glittered with rain-
diamonds, and the bird-matin was warbled by a full orchestra.
And on, through the slants of sunlight, and the alternations of
deep, green shade ; with the old, familiar chirpings in her ear,
and the touch of the loved one's hand upon hers, rode the
orphan; very quiet, through excess of happiness; afraid to
speak or move, lest this should prove a never-to-be realized
dream, whose awaking should bring bitter, hopeless yearnings !

Little by little, Carry broke up her musings ; and her father
seconded her. He was prepared to like his daughter's friend,
and there was that in his eye and voice, which made Ida forget,
as she had done with Carry, that she was talking with a
stranger. ^

" That is a fine specimen of your favorite tree, Ida," observed
Carry, pointing to a majestic pine, grand and solitary, at the
entrance of a grove of oaks.

And superb it is, in its loneliness I" said Ida.

" Farmers would cavil at your taste," remarked Dr. Carleton.
" Pine barrens' are proverbial. A thick growth of them is an

70 ALONE

unmistakeable sign of poverty of soil. Nothing else can extract
sustenance from the worn out ground."

"That is why I like them, sir. There is sublimity in their
hardy independence, taking root, as you say, where pampered, or
less robust vegetation would perish, and with never-furling
banners, stretching up boldly towards the stars."

" They are emblems to you of what ?" asked the Doctor.

" Of the few really great ones, who have demonstrated that
human nature is not of necessity, vile or imbecile, or yet a
debtor to accident, for its spice of good."

"The gifted, or the fortunate ?"

" The resolute, sir. They, who have riven the shackles of
low birth or poverty, and made for themselves a glorious name
out of nothing ! have done it by the naked force of will.
Call it talent' or ' genius/ if you choose ; upon analyzation,
you will resolve it into this one element of character."

" It is a sorry task to pick flaws in your beautiful analogy,"
said the old gentleman. " You may not be aware that your
pine, sturdy as it appears, is less fitted than any other tree, for
standing alone ; its roots running out laterally from the trunk ;
and lying near the surface of the earth. Cut down the outer
row which have kept off the tempests, and helped to support
him, and the first hard wind is apt to lay him low."

" And so there are fates, against which the mightiest of
mortal energies are powerless. Leave the pine unprotected, and
if it survive one blast, it strikes its roots deeper and deeper into
the ground, until it has strength to brave an hundred winters.
Adversity, if it does not kill strengthens."

" Do you favor the philosophy, which teaches that a certain
amount of trouble is necessary for the complete development
of character?"

" Whether necessary or not it comes. That is not a matter
of hypothesis ; but I have seen some, who, I did not think,
required discipline ; and many more, who wanted softening,
instead of hardening."

" Is hardening the legitimate effect of sorrow ?" asked he, more
gravely. " When the chastening is guided by love, does it not
melt and refine ? Are strength and hardness synonymous ?"

I question the difference, sir, as the world goes."

ALONE. 73

" Instead of referring to the world/ in an abstract sense-
judge we of the influence of trials, by what we know of our-
selves. I never tasted .real happiness, until I learned to bear
grief, by submitting to the will of Providence."

" And one affliction has embittered life for me !" returned Ida,
gloomily.

" Poor child !" then recollecting himself, he addressed Carry in
a jesting tone. "And you Miss Carry what is your vote
upon, this important question ?"

"I have had no trouble, sir," replied she, lightly, "except
school-quarrels. You would not class them in the category of
tribulations."

There was sadness in her father's look of love, as he answered,
" I hope you may long be able to say so, dear !"

Carry brushed away the mist from her lashes. " ' A consum-
mation devoutly to be desired,' as Charley, or Shakspeare
would say. Where is he, father ?"

" Who ? Shakspeare or Charley ?"

" The latter, of course. ' Apart from his probable location
being more easily decided upon, he is, to me, the more interest-
ing of the two/

"He is somewhere in the "Western part of the State;
travelling, partly for pleasure. Johu told you, that they have com-
mitted the New York branch of the business to Mr. E ,

and that Charley will in future reside in Kichmond."

"Yes, sir. I was glad to hear it; I understood, however, that
this change would not be made before Fall. In the interim, are
not we to be favoured with his company ?"

" I trust so. It will seem like old times for us all to be
together again."

" I hope he will come while you are with us, Ida," said Carry.
" I am so anxious you should know him !"

"You have seen him, surely, Miss Ida ?" said Dr. Carleton.

" I have not yet had that pleasure, sir."

" He is an original worth studying."

" I can credit that. Elle's panegyrics would have created a
desire to see this nonpareil of an Uncle Charley/ and Carry has
raised my curiosity to the highest pitch, by naming him as the
successful rival of Shakspeare."

72 ALONE.

" Oh I" cried Carry, laughing. " I said more interesting to
me. Charley is one of my pets; and I am afraid I have
presented you with an erroneously flattered picture of him. You
must not look for an Admirable Crichton.' He is not one to
please the fancy on a slight acquaintance."

" Is he as handsome as his brother ?"

" Which brother ?" inquired the Doctor ; and Carry blushed.

I have met but one," said Ida. "I consider Mr. John
Dana very fine-looking."

I will repeat Charley's ideas of what he styles, his personal
pulchritude/ " responded Carry. " He says he thanks Heaven
he is not handsome. To endow him with a moderate share of
beauty, some one would have been deprived of his, or her good
looks. No broken hearts are laid at the door of his conscience."
Yes' concluded he, triumphantly A man ought to be grate-
ful for ugliness ; and I am persuaded that not many have as much
cause to rejoice on that score as myself!' "

" He is not homely," said her father, warmly.

" Ah father ! other people tell a different story."

" That may be ; but where you find one handsomer face than
his, you see a thousand destitute of its intelligence and agreeable-
ness."

" Granted. Homely or not, I prefer him to any doll-faced
dandy of my acquaintance."

" He is fortunate in his advocates/' said Ida. " He has the
art of making friends."

"Because he is such a firm friend himself," replied Carry.
" Yet some will have it that he is frivolous and unfeeling. The
only satirical remark I was ever gnilty of, was extorted by an asper-
sion of this kind. A lady was offended by a playful bagatelle
of his ; and thinking that I would be a sure medium of com-
municating her wrath to its object, criticised him unsparingly.
She ridiculed his person and manners; I said nothing. She
said he was bankrupt in chivalry and politeness. . I smiled ; and
she blazed out a philippic against his disgusting levity and
nonsense he had not a spark of feeling, or grain of sense
intelligent indeed ! for her part she had never heard him say a
smart or sensible thing yet.' I put in my oar here You will
then alloW'him one talent, at least; the ability to adapt his

A L X E . 73

conversation to the company he is in.' I repented having said
it , but it quieted her."

" You did not reproach yourself for taking the part of your
friend !"

"No, out I might have done it in a less objectionable manner.
It did not alter her feelings to him, and caused her to dislike
me."

" How is it, sir, that I hear so much more of this one of your
former wards, than of his younger brother ?" said Ida to the
Doctor.

The question was innocently propounded, and for an instant,
she was puzzled by the quizzical demureness, with which he
glanced at his daughter.

" This is a serious charge, Carry. Your predilection for one
old play-fellow should not make you forgetful of another."

She was looking down, touching the shining tire of the wheel
with the tip of her gloved finger. The truth beamed upon Ida;
and with it a thousand little circumstances she had been blindly
stupid not to understand before. Her intelligent eye said the
mystery was explained, but she forbore to say so in words. Dr.
Carleton went on in a changed tone.

" Arthur is not a whit behind his brothers in sterling worth,
or personal graces. He is associated with me in the practice of
medicine, and unites a skill and prudence, rarely found in one so
young. He is popular, and deservedly so."

Carry bestowed a grateful smile upon him, and was answered
in the same mute language. In such desultory chat, the sunny
hours ran out. They travelled well ; only stopping an hour to
dine and rest; yet twilight saw them eight miles from their des-
tination. Each was disposed to silence, as the light grew dim-
mer j and when the moon smiled at them above the tree-tops,
she elicited but a single observation of her beauty. The road
was lonely and sheltered; bordered by forests on one side, and
thicket-grown banks on the other ; the soil sandy and heavy ;
the tramp of hoofs scarcely heard, and the wheels rolling with a
low, crushing sound, that, to Ida, was not unmusical. Silver
willows, and twisting bamboo ' Mines, and the long-leaved
Typha Latifolia edged the road , and she watched through the
openings in the woven screen, for a glimpse of the stream that

74 ALONE.

watered their roots; sometimes deceived by the shimmer of the
moon upon the leaves; sometimes, by the white sands, until she
doubted whether there was indeed one there ; when the gurgling
of falling waters betrayed the modest brooklet, and it widened
into a pretty pool; the moon's silver shield upon its bosom.
The thicket became taller, and not so dense ; tulip trees and oaks
in place of the aquatic undergrowth; and between them the
fleeting glimmerings of the sky were, to her, an army of pale
spectres, marching noiselessly past ; no halting or wavering ; on,
on, in unbroken cavalcade, " down to the dead." And memory,
at fancy's call, produced the long roll of those who had gone to
the world of shades; the master-spirits of -all ages; the
oppressed and the oppressor ; the lovely and the loved ; had
joined that phantom procession ; how few leaving even the
legacy of a name to earth ! With the Persian Poet, her heart
cried out Where are they ?" and echo answered " Where
are they ?" And thought poured on thought, under the weird
influence of that enchanted night, until the shadowy host was the
one reality in the landscape ; and one and another beckoned and
waved to her, as they defiled by. She came near shrieking so
startled was she as a horseman reined up at the window. The
moon was at his back ; but showed every lineament of her coun-
tenance. He raised his hat. " Miss Ross, I believe. I fear my
sudden appearance has alarmed you."

"Arthur! my boy ! how are you?" exclaimed Dr. Carleton,
extending his hand, which was as eagerly seized. Miss Eoss
Dr. Dana."

" Miss Eoss will excuse me for having anticipated the intro-
duction," said he, bowing again, and rode to the opposite side of
the carriage. The greetings there were more quiet; but it
needed not Ida's delicate ear to detect the feeling in the voices
which tried to say common-place things. Arthur had much to
pay to the doctor, and once in a while a remark for her Carry
remaining in the back-ground.

" Were you uneasy that we did not arrive ?" asked Dr.
Carleton.

"Not uneasy but restless; and to relieve my impatience
rode out to meet you."

He was first on this side now on that as the highway

ALONE. 75

afforded him room ; but Ida could not get a view of his face.
His figure was good, and he sat his horse well ; upon these
facts, and such impressions as were made by a pleasant voice and
gentlemanly address, she was obliged to form her opinion of his
personal appearance, until more light should be shed upon the
subject. The house appeared, approached by a shady lane, and
so embowered in trees, that only the chimneys were visible from
the main road. Carry's tongue was unloosed as she bounded
into the midst of the sable throng that swarmed about the car-
riage. Arthur exclaimed merrily at the clamor of blessings and
inquiries.

" Will you accept me as your attendant, Miss Koss ? The
ceremony of reception will last some time "

But Carry was in the piazza as soon as they were.

" Thank you, Arthur, for taking charge of her. Welcome to
Poplar-grove, dear Ida ! May you be as happy here as I have
been!"

" Amen \" said Dr. Carleton and Arthur, heartily.

Carry acted like a wild creature all the evening. She half-
carried Ida to her chamber, and kissed her over and over.

" Now, darling !" she ran on, strewing their shawls and bon
nets in all directions. " You see I have no idea of putting you
off, company style, in another room. You will be with me morn-
ing, noon, and night. My dear, dear room ! how natural it looks '
and to think I am never to leave it again !"

" Bless your heart !" said a middle-aged mulatto woman, whose
mild and pleasing face struck Ida as much as her motherly kind-
ness to her young mistress, " You are not half so glad to get back
as we are to have you here."

" Hush, Mammy ! you will make me cry. Comb my hair
will you ? Not that I do not believe you could do it, Sally ; but
it used to be Mammy's work."

Thoughtful of others still," reflected Ida, as the girl Sally
displayed a double row of ivories, at Carry's apology. " Can
nothing make her selfish ?"

" We wont't waste time by an elaborate toilet, dear," said
Carry, seeing Ida deliberating upon two dresses. " Father will
be too much engaged with his supper to notice our dress. Wear
the plain white one ; it is very becoming ; and remember, you
are in the back-woods."

76 ALONE.

Arthur was in the parlor when they descended. He looked
as happy as Carry, and " almost as good," thought Ida. She
was not de trop ; it might have been a brother and sister who
strove to convince her that this, their home, was hers for the
time-being. The supper-table was set with taste and profusion.
Ida wondered whether the menage were entirely controlled by
coloured servants. She learned afterwards that "Mammy,"
trained by Mrs. Carleton, and until that lady's death, her con-
stant attendant, was housekeeper.

" You have not much affection for a city life, Miss Ida/' said
Arthur, continuing a conversation commenced in the parlor.

" No. I am country-bred, and cherish a preference for the
scenes of my childhood. Perhaps," she said, ingenuously, " the
fault is in myself. I did not want to live in Richmond, and
determined not to like it."

" And are your aversions so strong that the manifold attrac-
tions of the metropolis cannot shake them? or, are you countrified
upon principle ?"

" I have not given the city a fair trial. It has occurred to
me lately that my weariness of it proceeded from monotony
rather than satiety. There is little variety in school life."

" Except when we regard it as the world in miniature," said
Arthur. It is different, doubtless, in ' Young Lady Establish-
ments/ but we boys contrived to maintain a healthy circulation,
one way or another."

" Is it not a popular fallacy that school-days are the happiest
of one's life ?" asked Ida.

" Unquestionably," rejoined he, promptly. "As well say that
Spring is the farmer's happiest season. He has the pleasures
of hope, the delight of viewing his whitening harvests in
future; but there is severe, unromantic drudgery; suspense and
boding fears for the result. The ' harvest home' for me !

" And when is that !" questioned Ida.

" Now !" said he, with emphasis.

11 What do you mean ?" inquired Carry.

" That you and Miss Ida begin to reap from this date. To
dispense with this inconvenient metaphor, your acticns will be
the proof of what your lessons have been ; every day your
knowledge and principles will be brought into play, you will
be binding up sheaves of worthy or of evil deeds."

ALONE. 7T

" You are trying to terrify us," said Carry. " Don't you wish
yourself at school again, Ida ?"

" Are you sorry you're a-goin' to turn out ?" replied Ida, in a
peculiar tone.

" Oh, Celestia !" exclaimed Carry, with a hurst of laughter.
Who ? what ?" said her father.

" One of our school-mates, father ; who, hearing another say
that she was sorry to quit school, went through the house the
day we were dismissed, asking each one confidentially, { Are you
sorry you're a-goin to turn out ?' grief at such an event being,
in her code, a more heinous sin than to dance at a funeral."
1 Who was she ?" asked Arthur.
' Miss Pratt Celestia Pratt."

Daughter of the member from A ?"

The same what do you know of her ?"
1 I met her once at a ball," he replied.
' Were you introduced ?" cried both girls in a breath.
Yes ; and danced with her."

Enough 1" said Carry. " We will not pursue the subject."
" As you please," he returned; "but 'if I am not mistaken, as
Sir Roger says, though with a different meaning, much could
be said on both sides.' "

CHAPTER VIII.

POPLAR-GROVE was comparatively a modern place; having
been built by the present proprietor at the time of his marriage.
The house was of brick, large and commodious ; and flanked by
neat out-houses and servants' quarters, presenting an imposing
appearance, an, air of lordly beauty. The shade trees were
forest-born; the maple, oak, beech, and fairest of all, the tulip-
poplar. Excepting in the green-house, on the south side of the
mansion, and a rose-creeper that climbed upon the piazza, not a
flower was tolerated within the spacious yard, and the sward was
always green and smooth. Dr. Carleton's seat was the pride and
envy of the country. " No wonder," growled the croakers; " a

78 ALONE.

man with a plenty of money can afford to be comfortable." They
lived in barn-like structures, treeless andyardless; (and who that
has travelled in our commonwealth, but knows the heart-sicken-
ing aspect of these out-of-door habitations?) raising vegetables,
because they must be had to eat; planting orchards, and suffer-
ing them to dwindle and pine, for want of attention ; and exist-
ing themselves after the same shambling style, because they
" had it to do ;" content to " get along," and not feeling the
need of anything higher, until the buried not dead sense of
the beautiful was exhumed by the sight of the work of taste and
industry; and the stupid stare waa succeeded by jealous repin-
ings, and the writing down of a long score against Providence.
" I tell you what, my friend," the doctor said to one of these
murmurers, " instead of harping so much upon one P, try my
three, and my word for it, your wishes will be fulfilled sooner
by fifty years they are, Planting, Perseverance and Paint."

In the garden, beauty and utility joined hands, and danced
together down the walks. There were squares of thrifty vegeta-
bles, deserving a home in the visioned Eden of an ambitious
horticulturist ; and the banished floral treasures here expanded
in every variety of hue and fragrance. There grew hedges of
roses, and the dwarf lilac, and the jessamine family, the star,
the Catalonian, the white and yellow, thatching one arbor ;
while the odorous Florida, the coral, and the more common but
dearer English honeysuckles wreathed their lithe tendrils over
another; and ever-blowing wall-flowers, humble and sweet, gaudy
beds of carnations, and brightly-smiling coreopsis, and pure lilies
with their fragrant hearts powdered with golden dust a witch-
ing wilderness of delights. Trellises, burdened with ripening
grapes, were the boundary line between' the 'garden and the
orchard. The same just sense of order and well-being regulated
the whole plantation. Kindness was the main-spring of the
machinery, but 'it was a kindness that knew how to punish as
well as reward. '

Do you believe in the unity of the human race?" asked Ida,
one evening, as she and Carry were taking their twilight prome-
nade in the long parlor.

"Assuredly; but what put that into your head just now ?"

" I was thinking of your father ; and trying to realize that he

ALONE. 79

belongs to the same species with others I could name. I am
compelled to the conclusion that he is an appendix^ a later crea-
tion, a type of what man would have been had he not sought
out many inventions.' "

" And what new instance of his immaculateness has induced
this sapient belief?"

" I was sitting at the window this afternoon, before he went
out, when I heard him call to little Dick to bring his saddle-
bags from 'the office/ The boy scampered off, and presently
appeared running, still holding the precious load with great care
in both hands. ' Steady, my lad/ said your father, and as the
warning passed his lips, Dick tripped his foot, and came down
the saddle-bags under him. He cried loudly, and your father
ran to pick him up what do you suppose he said ?"

" Inquired if he was hurt, of course."

"He did but reflect! every phial was smashed, and that is
no trifle this far from the city, I take it. Yes he set the little
chap upon his feet, and asked after the integrity of his bones j
and when he sobbed, ' I aint hurt, sir but de bottles dey's
all broke !' patted him upon the head, and bade him ' stop crying
master isn't angry you won't run so fast next time,' and let
him go. Then, kneeling upon the grass, he unlocked the
portable apothecary-shop, and pulled out gallipots and packages,
fractured and stained in every imaginable shape and manner
looking seriously perplexed. * This is an awkward business,'
he said, aloud ; and my stock is so nearly out ! but accidents
will happen.' "

"And is that all ?" said Carry.

" ' All 1' I have seen men affect forbearance, and talk largely
of forgiveness, when they wanted to ' show off,' but he did not
know that I was within hearing. Some other principle was at
work. I wonder," she said, with a short laugh, "what my
esteemed guardian would have said upon the occasion ! He
punishes a menial more severely for an accident, or thoughtless-
ness, than for deliberate villany."

" I do not pretend to uphold Mr. Read's doctrines or practice.
I am afraid he is thoroughly selfish, and Josephine is too close
a copy of him to suit my fancy but why think or speak ot
them? Did vou not nrnmise to sec life through my spectacles

80 . ALONE.

awhile ? There is a hard look in your eye, and a scorn in your
tone, when you refer to them, that repel me. It is so unlike
you !"

" So like me, Carry ! My character is velvet or fur stroKe it
in one direction, and you enhance whatever of beauty or gloss it
possesses ; reverse the motion, and you encounter rough prickles,
and in certain states of the atmosphere, more electricity than is
agreeable or safe. I am not changed. The hand of affection is
gliding over me now ; you may do what you will with me."

" But you are happier than you used to be ?"

" I am happier in you ! Do you recollect the stormy
November evening when you took me in ?' Cold, and wet,
and shivering as was the body, the heart stood more in need of
comfort; and you warmed it taught me that woman is woman
still brow-beaten, insulted, crushed ! The poor, soiled flowerets
of love will smile, despite of all in the face of him, or her
whose pitying hand lifts them up. Carry ! you do not know
what depends upon your fidelity ! Have you not read in that
most wondrous of books, how the evil spirit returned to the
house, which, in his absence, was swept and garnished, and that
the latter end of that man was worse than the first?"

" Ida ! my own friend ! how can you hint such frightful
things ? I do love you very dearly ? You cannot doubt me."

" Not now. But will the time never come, when other claims
will dispossess me of my place ? Do not despise me, darling !
Do not impute to me the meanness of being envious of your
happiness. I rejoice with, and am proud for you proud of your
choice. He is all that a man should be let me say it I have
never told you so before; but is it true love expels friendship?
You will be as dear to me married as single ; why should your
affection decrease ?"

It will not !" Could it be the modest Carry who spoke ?
"Judge for yourself. Arthur and I have loved from childhood.
He spoke to me of his hopes two years ago, but father exacted
from us a promise that no love but that of brother and sister
should be named between us until my school-days were at an
end. Yet I knew that I was not a sister to him ; and, to me,
he was more than the world besides : and with this sweet con-
sciousness singing its song of hope and blessedness within my

ALONE. 81

heart, I found room for you ; and lover and friend were eaci
the dearer for the other's company. You will understand this
some day, dear Ida. You are made tc be loved you cannol
exist without it, and you will achieve your destiny."

" That love is to be my redemption, Carry. In the uppei
region of the air there is eternal calm and sunshine, while the
clouds brood and crash below. Such calm and light shall my
love win for me. I have dwelt for years in the black, noisome
vapors I am rising now ! Is it not Jean Paul who says
1 Love may slumber in a young maiden's heart, but he always
dreams !' I have had dreams day visions, more transporting
than any the night bestows. I have dreamed that my wayward* 3 ,
will bent, in glad humility, to a stronger and wiser mind ; \
that my eye fell beneath the fondness of one that quailed at
nothing; that I leaned my tired head upon a bosom, whose every
throb was to me an earnest of his abiding truth ; and drank in
the music of a voice, whose sweetest accent was the low whisper
that called me 'his own!' 'These are not chance vagaries; they
have been the food of my heart for long and dreary months ;
angel-voices about my pillow my companions in the still twi-
light hour summoned by pleasure or pain, to sympathise and
console. Then my breast is a temple, consecrated to an ideal,
but none the less fervent in the devotion offered therein ; the
hoarded riches of a lifetime are heaped upon his shrine. I have
imagined him high in the world's opinion ; doing his part nobly
in the strife of life; and I, unawed by the laurel-crown
unheeding it say, Love me only love me !' I love to fancy,
and feel him present, and sing to him the strains which gush
from my soul at his coming. This is one."

She left Carry's side. A lightly-played prelude floated through
the darkening room, then a recitative, of which the words and
music seemed alike born out of the impulse of the hour :

Thy heart is like the billowy tide

Of some impetuous river,
That mighty in its power and pride,

Sweeps on and on forever.
The white foam is its battle crest,

As to the charge it rushes
And from its vast and panting breast,

A stormy shout up gushes.

82 ALONE.

Through all o'er all my way I cleave

Each barrier down-bearing
1'atne is the guerdon of the brave,

And victory of the daring !"
While mine is like the brooklet's flow,

Through peaceful valley's gliding ;
O'er which the willow boughs bend low

The tiny wavelet hiding.

And as it steals on, calm and clear,

A little song 'tis singing,
That vibrates soft upon the ear,

Like fairy vespers ringing.
" Love me love me !" it murmurs o'er f

'Midst light and shadows ranging,
" Love me," it gurgles evermore,

The burden never changing.

Thine is the eagle's lofty flight,

With ardent hope, aspiring
E'en to the flaming source of light,

Undoubting and untiring.
Glory, with gorgeous sunbeam, throws

An Iris mantle o'er thee
A radiant present round thee glows

Deathless renown before thee.

And I, like a shy, timid dove,

That shuns noon's fervid beaming,
And far within the silent grove,

Sits, lost in loving dreaming
Turn, half in joy, and half in fear,

From thine ambitious soaring,
And seek to hide me from the glare,

That o'er thy track is pouring.

I cannot echo back the notes

Of triumph thou art pealing,
But from my woman's heart there floats

The music of one feeling,
One single, longing, pleading moan,

Whose voice I cannot smother
"Love me love me!" its song alone,

And it will learn no other !

There was a long stillness. Carry was weeping silently. She
was a novice to the world, and believed that many were guileless
and loving as herself; but she felt, as she listened to this enthu
siastic outflow from ice-girt depths, unfathomable to her, unsus-
pected by others, that terrible woe was in reserve for the heart
so suddenly unveiled. There was, about Ida, when her real
character came into action, an earnestness of passion and senti-
ment that forbade the utterance of trite counsels or cautions ;

ALONE. 83

the tide would have its way, and one must abide its ebb in
patience. Her first words .showed that it had retired.

" I appear strangely fitful to your gentle little self, dear one.
It is seldom that I yield to these humours. You have pierced
to the bottom of my heart to-night;" linking her arm again in
Carry's. " Forget my vehemence, and believe me if you will,
the iceberg people say I am."

" Never ! oh, Ida ! Why do yourself such injustice? Why
not let your friends know that you have feeling ? They would
love you but the more."

" Do not believe it. I should be sent to the Insane Hospital.
Hearts are at a discount in the market just now, and hypocrisy
above par."

" There you go !" exclaimed Carry. " One moment all soft-
ness the next, an ocean is between us. Contradictory enigma !
If I loved you less, I should be angry. You read every leaf of
my heart as easily as you unfold a newspaper; and just as I
fancy that I have the key to yours, it is shut close a casket,
whose spring I cannot find."

" Or like an oyster," said Ida. Apropos de bottes here
come the candles, harbingers of supper, and I hear our brace of
Esculapii, upon the porch, ready to discuss it."

Carry asked herself if it could be the impassioned improvisa-
trice, who charmed her father and Arthur into forgetfulness of
professional anxieties, and the attractions of the inviting board,
by her brilliant play of wit, sparkling and pleasant as foam upon
champagne, without its evanescence. The gentlemen admired
and liked her. That they unconsciously identified her with
Carry, may have accounted for this, in part, but most was owing
to her powers of pleasing. An inquiry, made with extreme
gravity, as to the number and welfare of their patients, was the
preface to a burlesque sketch of the saddle-bag scene; in which,
not a hint of the reflections it inspired, escaped her ; and when
she described the doctor's rueful countenance, as he held tip the
neck and stopple of a large phial, saying dolefully, " The Calo-
mel too, and three cases of fever on hand !' Arthur resigned
knife and fork, in despair of eating another mouthful, and Dr.
Carleton drew out his Bandanna to wipe off the coursing tears.

Hist," said Ida, her finger uplifted, some one is coming !"

84 ALONE.

The roll of an approaching vehicle was plainly heard ; the coach-
man's sharp " Whoa I" followed by a cheer, in sound like a view-
hallo, but it said, " Ship ahoy !"

" Charley ! Charley !" screamed Carry, upsetting the tea-urn
on her way to the door, pursued by Arthur and Dr. Carleton.
Ida went as far as the porch. She heard Mrs. John Dana's
voice, then her husband's; and Elle's incoherent response to the
efforts made to awaken her; but the stranger was chief spokes-
man. " Look after your wife and the baggage, John ; I will
disembark the lighter freight. Elle ! Elle ! don't you want to
see Aladdin's lamp ? Aha ! well, here is something prettier
Aunt Carry, and a nice supper. Charley' you monkey! wide
awake as usual ! Feel if you have your own head, my boy !
People are apt to make mistakes in the dark. Give me that
small-sized bundle, Jenny you'll lose it in the weeds, and then
there will be the mischief to pay. One, two, three, all right !"
And with the " small-sized bundle" in his arms, he marched up
the walk, Carry scolding and laughing.

" Charley ! you are too bad ! give her to me a pretty figure
you are, playing nurse !"

" He has carried her, or Elle, before him, on the horse, all
the way !" said Mrs. Dana. " Ida, my love, how do you do ?"
warmly kissing her." John Dana shook hands with her, and
Elle cried, " Cousin Ida ! you here at grandpa's !"

Charley gave a comic glance at his burden, when he was pre-
sented ; but his bow was respectful, and as graceful as the case
admitted. Ida hardly saw him until the second supper was
served ; Carry insisting that she should occupy her accustomed
seat, and go through the form of eating. Elle petitioned for a
chair by her, and th'e three brothers were together on the opposite
side of the table. They were an interesting study. John,
with his strong, dark, yet singularly pleasing physiognomy, was
the handsomest ; but his precedence in age, and perhaps rougher
experiences in life, had imparted an air of command, which, while
it became him well, deterred one from familiarity. Charley wa;i
so unlike him, that the supposition of their being of the same
lineage, seemed absurd. His hair and complexion were many
shades lighter, and the features cast in a different mould, his
eyes the -only fine ones in the set. He was not so tall, by half a

ALONE. 85

head, and more slightly built. Arthur was the connecting link ;
with John's height, and Charley's figure ; the perfect mouth and
teeth of one ; the brown eyes of the other ; and hair and skin a
juste milieu between the two. Ida's attention was most frequently
directed to the new-comer. She thought him more homely than
his brothers ; and it certainly was not a family resemblance that
troubled her with the notion, that she had seen him somewhere
not very long ago when, she could not say except that his
expression was not the same as now. Heedless of her observa-
tion, he rattled on j doing ample justice to the edibles, in some
unaccountable manner ; his gastronomical and vocal apparatus
never interfering ; yet withal, he was an excellent listener ; and
allowed the rest of the party to say whatever they wished. " He
would be worth his weight in gold to a comic almanac-maker,"
thought Ida, as he dashed off caricature and anecdote, conveying
a character in an epithet, and setting the table in a roar, by a
grimace or inflection. His pictures, however, were coloured by
his gay mood ; there were no frowning portraits, and their smiles
were all broad grins.

" You have not learned to love buttermilk, yet, Charley ?"
said Carry, as John called for a second tumbler of the cooling
beverage.

" Can't say that I have. Did I write you an account of my
begging expedition ?"

" Begging ! no tell me now."

" It was in the Valley. Fitzgerald and I you know Fitz.,
Arthur were on a hunting frolic. We went up on the moun-
tains, and fell in with game in abundance, but despicable
accommodations. We were at it for three days. The first
night we camped out/ gipsy style ; built a'rousing fire to scare
the wild beasts ; wrapped our dreadnoughts around us, and ' lay,
like gentlemen taking a snooze/ feet towards the fire, and faces
towards the moon. I had made up my mind that there would
be precious little romance, and less comfort, in this very roomy
hotel ; but Fitz. was sentimentally inclined, and I let him alone.
A life in the woods for me '/ said he, as he stretched himself
upon the ground. I was fast asleep in two minutes, so far as
Bounds went. 'Charley !' he exclaimed, at my heavy breathing.

86 ALONE.

Pshaw ! he's off ! he has no more poetry m him than there ia
in a rock.'"

" I guessed that he was helped to this illustration, by his dis-
covery of the quantity of the substance in the soil thereabouts,
for he shifted his position. He was tolerably still for about five
minutes ; then there was a jerk, and ' I have not picked the
softest spot, surely !' After another season of quiet came,
' How he sleeps ! If he were to swap sides with me, he would
not be disturbing the echoes in that style !'

" A brief objurgation to an unnamed annoyance, was comment
fourth. I slept on perseveringly. He bore it for an hour, and
then got up and mended the fire, by which he was moodily
seated, when I awoke from my first nap. ' Hallo!' said I, rub
bing my eyes, Is it morning ?' ' No ! and what's more, I don't
believe it's ever coming ?' with a savage accent. Ah well ! just
hail me when it does break/ and I dropped back ' That is more
than flesh and blood can bear I' said he, with awful deliberate-
ness, Here I can't get a wink of sleep, and you are snoring
away with a forty horse power. Maybe you think you are on a
feather bed, man !' fiercely ironical.

" { A feather bed !' just opening my eyes a feather bed is
nothing to it, Fitz.'

" ' I believe you !' he said.

" The morning did come, and we had splendid shooting, and
happened on a log cabin that night, where we were permitted to
lodge, leaving most of our game for its mistress, who . refused
money for her hospitality. By three o'clock of the last day, we
turned our faces towards home, and by rare luck, overtook a man
who lived upon Fitz.'s farm, him we loaded with our guns and
game-bags, he being on horseback, and fresh, we on foot and
tired. Presently a traveller passed us, crossing to the other
side of the road, and eyeing us suspiciously. Fitz./ observed I,
1 How hard that man looked at you. You are not exactly in
holiday trim, my dear fellow !'

" I haven't seen any man, or thought of myself, I was too
much absorbed in conjecturing how such an ugly creature as you,
was ever raised you couldn't have been, except in Easti m
Virginia.'

"After some sparring, we laid a bet as to how the people of

ALONE. 87

the first house we came to, would decide the question of our com-
parative beauty, I have it !' said he, ' We are foreigners ; talk
the most villainous jargon you can invent, and trust me for the
rest. We shall hear criticisms enough, I'll warrant.'

" We were ripe for fun; and reaching a small farm-house, Fitz.
opened the gate. Recollect we know no Inglese !' We were
grotesque figures, wearing bell- crowned hats of white felt, drab
wrappers, coated with mud, and green-hunting shirts. Add a
beard of three days' growth, and brigandish mustachios, and you
have our ' picters.' The men were off at work, but the women
peeped at us from all quarters. Fitz. walked meekly up to a
girl who was washing in the yard.

" ( Avezyouvuspaimum ?'

" What !' said she, wringing the suds from her hands.

" ( Wevusivusfaimetsoif,' winking at me for confirmation.

"'Yaw! pax vobiscum!' returned I, in imitation of poor
Wamba ; and pointing into my throat.

" ( Two forrinners,' said an older woman. Come, see 'em,
chillen.'

" You are hungry, ain't you "?' said the girl.

" e Novuscomprendum.

11 ' And thirsty, too ?' to me.

" I put my finger to my mouth, with a voracious snap. Away
she ran, and was back in a minute, with a plate of cold Irish
potatoes and a bowl of buttermilk ; a younger sister following
with another."

What did you do ?"

I drank it ! absolutely ! I, who had never looked at a churn
without shuddering. I desired to make a favorable impression.
The children were gaping at the sights ; and I contrived, before
handing the bowl to one of them, to drop a piece of money into
the milk left in the bottom for manners.' I wished it back in
my pocket, as the old hag, after a prolonged stare, pointed her
skinny hand at me, Sary } 1 think this 'ere one is rayther the
wuss looking, don't you ?

" Fitz. burst into a laugh, that scared them all in one direc-
tion, while we beat a retreat in the other."

"A hearty laugh helpeth digestion," said Dr. Carleton, setting
back in his chair. " Miss Ida, if you and Charley will under-

88 ALONE.

take my practice, I ain in hopes that the casualty of the after-
noon will be less disastrous than we apprehend/'

"What casualty?" asked Charley.

The doctor explained.

" And you seize upon a prime lot of choice spirits, as a sub-
stitute for your tinctures and drugs. Fie, Doctor ! I thought
you were a temperance man I"

" I have the best right to your services," said Carry, clasping
her hands around his arm, and walking with him towards the
parlor. " And I forewarn you, I have enough for you to do.
Ida and I have moped here for a fortnight, without a single
frolic, and with an alarmingly scanty supply of beaux."

He looked down at her, as he would have done at Elle.

" You ride, do you not ?"

" There is a pleasant fiction that we have morning excursions,
daily; but history records but three such felicitous events."

Where was Arthur ?"

"Hush, my dear sir, the country is sickly; and " she

said, sotto voce, " He will not hear of father's going out after
night-fall; and they have had several difficult cases, of late,
demanding almost constant attendance."

" Then, if you are willing, I will enter upon my duties as
escort, to-morrow morning."

" Oh ! not so soon ! you may have time to recover from your
fatigue."

" Fatigue ! fudge ! I could dance all night. Are you fond of
riding, Miss Koss ?"

" I used to like it ; I am sadly out of practice now."

" A fault easily cured, if you are not timid."

" Not she 1" said Carry; "and want of practice notwithstand-
ing, she is a better horsewoman than I."

This was demonstrated in the course of the first ride ; and
both improved rapidly under the tuition of their self-constituted
instructor.

John returned to the city; Arthur's time was never at his
own disposal ; the care of the girls devolved entirely upon Char-
ley. From the moment of his arrival, Ida studied him intently,
and each hour brought difficulties, instead of elucidation. Easy
and kind, always at their service; and performing the tasks

ALONE. 89

assigned him, as if they were real pleasures, he was nothing of
a " ladies' man ;" eschewed gallant speeches, and consigned flat-
terers to the tender mercies of Mrs. Opie. She felt that he was
affectionate, but would have been at a loss to produce proof
thereof. He never let fall a syllable of endearment, yet Carry
and the children read something in his face which said more.
His tastes were cultivated, and his mind well-informed, but he
set at naught the laws of conversational etiquette ; his sayings
had as marked a style as his features ; a style, which those who
did not know better, termed " droll," and those who did, dubbed
" Charley's ;" it was referable to no thing or person else. His
candor was not his least remarkable trait. He was obstinately
silent when appealed to for an opinion, or gave it rough-hewn ;
no rounding-off of sharp corners j no filling out here, or sloping
in there, so as to fit neatly to another's. He made no distinc-
tions of rank ; pulled off his hat to the meanest field-hand, with
as gentle courtesy as though he had been the President; and
severed the thread of her most sprightly narrations, to thank
the ragged urchin, who unfastened gates, or let down drawbars,
in their desultory excursions.

" He is one of the best of men," delivered Mammy, as fore-
man of the kitchen jury. Ida smiled at the harum-scarum
figure, which arose in her mind, in opposition to the image of
sanctity, Mammy's description should have summoned.

" You do not do him justice, Ida," observed Carry.

" My smile was not of unbelief, but amusement ; I like him.
There is a rich vein of quaint humor in his mind ; and his uneb-
bing spirits entitle him to the honors of the laughing philosopher."

He is more than that "

"Who was it I heard wishing for a frolic?" asked Charley,
coming in. " I met a boy with a basket full of perfumery and
white satin ribbon, at the gate. I had to stand between him
and the wind, while he gave me these. ' Miss Carleton' Miss
Ross' ' Dr. Dana and brother,' they would swindle a fellow out
of his birth-right ! Mr. and Mrs. Truman solicit the pleasure
' hum. no doubt they will be overjoyed { evening, 27th
August' what is it, Carry?"

" We were talking of it this morning, the bridal party given
to William Truman and lady."

8*

90 ALONE.

" Whom did be marry?"

"He isn't married at all; on the 26th ; he is to conduct to the
hymeneal altar, the beautiful Miss Sophia Morris, of Richmond,
Virginia."

" No newspaper reporter could be more explicit. You will go?"

" That depends upon Miss Ross' inclinations, and somebody's
gallantry."

" Poor dependence that last ! Do you know the bride elect
that is to be ?"

" The bride elect, that is is sister to a school-mate of ours ;
and I have some acquaintance with herself."

"Ellen will be with her sister," said Ida. "I shall enjoy
meeting her. Her laugh will carry us back to days of yore."

" To days of yore," said Charley, balanceing to an imaginary
partner. " Is it three or four weeks since you parted ? In a
young lady's calendar, a month is an age, six months eternity.
You look upon me as a miracle of longevity, do you not ?"

" As old enough to be less saucy," said Carry. " Do you
know that this habit of catching up one's words is very rude ?"

He threw a quick glance to Ida. " Miss Ross is not offended,
I trust. Nothing was further from my intention than to wound
or offend. I am too prone to speak without thought. Forgive
me this time."

" Upon two conditions."

" Name them."

" First, that you never again imagine an apology due, when
no offence has been committed; secondly, that you drop that
very punctilious ' Miss Ros,' and adopt your brother's manner
of address."

" Agreed! to both. If I presume upon my privileges, I rely
upon you for admonition."

"And this party?" said Carry. "Sit down and be a good
boy, while Ida and I talk it over."

He brought up a stool in front of their sofa, and, knees at a
right angle, feet close together; and folded hands, waited humbly
for the crumbs that might be flung to him.

"It is eight miles off," said Carry, "but there will be a
moon "

(" Most generally is !")

ALONE. 91

" Be quiet, sir ! it will be moonlight, and the road is level and
dry "

(" It stops at the creek to get a drink !")

She aimed a blow at him with her fan, which he dodged.

" I am so little acquainted with them," objected Ida.

" That's nothing. Mr. and Mrs. Truman are the most
hospitable of human beings, and Mary is a lovely girl "

(" Per latest steamer from Paradise.")

We must go. Sister is here to keep father company. Now
the last query what shall we wear ?"

( The first shall be last.")

" White muslins," returned Ida.

" Yes ; and the thinnest we have. Nothing else is endurable
this weather "

(" Except iced juleps !")

" Arthur I" cried Carry, with a pretty affectation of vexation.
Come in, and keep your brother quiet I"

"What is he doing? he seems very harmless," said Dr. Dana,
stepping through the window from the piazza.

The maligned individual applied his fist to his eye. " I ain't
a-touching nothin I"

" I am security for his good behaviour," continued Arthur,
laying his arm across his shoulder. " Proceed with the case in
hand."

The rival merits of peach-blossoms and azure were set forth ;
bandeaux preferred to curls the gentlemen giving the casting
vote; kid and satin slippers paraded Charley advocating
" calf-skin j" a muttering of " patriotism" and " domestic
manufacture," checked by a pinch from his brother; every
knot of ribbon ; each bud and leaf of the bouquets were settled
to the taste of the fair wearers before the council adjourned.

92 ALONE.

CHAPTEK IX.

THE most spacious of Mrs. Truman's chambers was prepared
for the ladies' dressing-room, on the evening of the party ; and
there were no spare corners, although several of the neighbours
offered their houses for the use of those who dared not tempt
the chance of crumpled robes and disarranged coiffures; the
probable consequence of a ride eight or ten miles in gala dress.
Every stage of the toilet was in progress, from the chrysalis of
the dressing-gown to the full-winged butterfly, the sylph, who,
with a dainty adjustment of her diaphanous drapery, and a last,
lingering look at the flattering mirror, declared herself "ready."

Ida and Carry were bent upon dressing alike ; no easy matter
jO do, consistently with their perceptions of colours and fitness.
3o one hue became both ; so they proscribed the prismatic tints
tnd appeared in virgin white. Carry was beautiful as a dream
of Fairy Land. The plump, white arms were bare to the
shoulder, and without other ornament than their own fairness,
except a chain of gold, attached to a locket, containing her
parents' hair. This she never left off. Snowy gloves hid hands,
softer still ; the exquisitely-fitted corsage, and the waist it en-
clasped, were the admiration, and, if truth must be told, the envy
of the bevy of talkative damsels j but few remarked upon these
after a sight of her face. Her hair would curl, do what she
would ; the rebellious bandeaux refused to be plastered upon the
blue- veined temples, but rippled and glittered, like nothing but
a stream, golden in the sunset. The most artful smipgon of
rouge was a palpable counterfeit compared with her living
bloom ; pearls lay between the ruby lips ; and a spirit, more
priceless then gold or rubies, or pearls beamed from the liquid
eyes. Ida looked forward with delight to Arthur's exultant
smile, when he should behold her ; and Carry, alike forgetful of
self, was lost in gratified contemplation of the elegant figure of
her friend. "With not a tithe of the beauty of half the girls
present, her tout ensemble was striking and attractive. The
haughtiness which held the crowd at a distance, gave a high-bred

ALONE. 93

tone to her bearing, and one sentence, uttered in her clear voice,
and a smile dispelled all unfavourable impressions.

Arthur and Charley were at the foot of the stairs.

" What a Babel I" said Ida, as they entered the thronged
rooms.

" And what a waste of breath !" replied Charley. " There is
neither sociability, or rational enjoyment, to be had in these
very large assemblies."

" I rather like the excitement of the crowd ;" said Ida, " it
affects me strangely, but agreeably ; with the same sensation the
waves may feel in their sports, a tumultuous glee at being a
part of the restless whole, never still, and always bounding
onward/'

" How do you account for it ? Is it magnetism animal
electricity ?"

" Perhaps so. If, as some contend, we are electrical machines,
the revolving currents of the subtle fluid must operate powerfully
upon the system of each, in a crowd like this. But to leave
speculative ground perilous to me, inasmuch as I do not know
what I am talking about "

"And I understand the science less," interrupted he. " You
remember the Scotchman's definition of metaphysics what were
you going to ask ?"

" Why you dislike these scenes ? I fancied you would be in
your element."

" Excuse me for saying that I suspect you class me among
amphibious creatures a sui generis equally at home in the air,
earth, and water, and not over-well qualified for any of these
states of existence."

Ida would have disclaimed ; but he had come too near the
mark ; the eyes that asked a reply were penetrating as laughing j
she was thankful that the bridal party released her from their
regards.

" The bride is pretty," he observed, when the confusion was a
little over.

"Tame praise for such beauty," said Ida.

" What then ? superb magnificent ? and if I wish to describe
the Alps or Niagara, can you help me to a word ?"

You do not affect the florid style now in vogue?"

94 ALONE.

"No. It is the vice of American language and literature.
We ' pile on the agony/ until the idea is smothered ; plain words
lose their meaning, become too weak to go alone, and have to
be bolstered up by sonorous adjectives."

Ida smiled, and turned her head to look for Ellen Morris.
Charley remarked the movement, and imitated it.

" Ha ! can it be !" he exclaimed.

" What !" she questioned.

" I cannot be mistaken ! it is he ! What wind has blown him
hither ? An old I thought, a transatlantic friend ; the gentle-
man with the moustache, conversing with one of the bridesmaids."

" Ellen Morris ! I see him ; but he deserves more than the
doubtful designation of the 'gentleman with the moustache.'
Who, and what is he ?"

" An artist and poet, just returned from Italy, and the hero of
divers adventures, which, as you love the romantic, I may relate
to you in my poor way some day. His cognomen is Lynn
Holmes."

" He looks the poet ; how handsome I"

" Tame praise for such beauty/ " quoted Charley, with mock
gravity.

It was, when applied to the face and form before them. He
was not above the medium height ; symmetrically proportioned,
hair purplish in its blackness, the arched nostril, and short upper
lip indicative of spirit and gentle birth, and the rich, warm com-
plexion had caught its flush from Italian suns. Its rapid fluctua-
tions, plainly visible through the transparent olive of his cheek,
spoke too, of passions kindled by that burning clime. But his
eyes ! Ida's were darker, as she gazed into their midnight
large and dreamy and melancholy ! a world of unwritten poetry ;
but when did poet have, or artist paint such !

" What is the conclusion of the whole matter ?" asked Charley,
patiently.

" That you should speak to your friend ;" letting go his arm.
"I shall not mind your leaving me alone."

He replaced her hand. " Content yourself. Miss Morris
will not thank me, if I intrude at present. There is time enough.
Pity he has chosen a starving profession."

"And why 'pity/ if in so doing he has followed the beckon-

ALONE. 95

ing of genius ? He has hearkened to, and obeyed the teachings
of his higher nature. Can they mislead ?"

" When we mistake their meaning. Genius steers wildly
astray if the compass-box of judgment is wanting. My remark
was a general one" seeing her grave look. " Holmes is one of
the gifted of the earth ; and when I lamented his choice of a pro-
fession, I did not censure him, but the public. He ought to
have a nabob's fortune to perfect his schemes ; and he will not
make a living. Men squander thousands for the intellectual
gratification of a horse-race ; an exhibition in which, I allow, the
brute is generally the nobler animal; and knowingly brand
him ' a verdant 'un,' who expends a quarter of that sum in works
of art. "Will you dance ? I hear a violin."

" I think not. It is too warm."

" To say nothing of the crowd. In dancing, as in most things,
I prefer standing upon my own footing not upon other people's
toes."

Nevertheless, there were those present who could not withstand
the allurement of a "hop," under any circumstances; and by
snug packing on the part of the soberly-inclined, while numbers
sought the freer air of the passages and piazzas, room was made
for a set. Ellen Morris joined it, and Mr. Holmes had time to
look about him. His start of delight as he recognised Charley,
and the heartiness of their greetings, showed their mutual attach-
ment ; and imagining that they would have much to say after a
lengthy separation, Ida would have fallen in the rear, had not
Charley forestalled her by a prompt presentation of his friend.
They exchanged, indeed, one or two brief questions and replies ;
but these over, she was the centre of attraction. The panting,
heated dancers tripped by, commiserating, if they noticed the
"hum-drum" group at the window ; never thinking that, demure
as they appeared, there was more enjoyment in that secluded
recess, than in the entire mass of revellers besides. There are
harmonies in conversation, the arrangement of which is wofully
disregarded. Accident had collected a rare trio. The artist
talked as he would have painted ; descrying beauties everywhere,
and bringing them together with a masterly hand; only tolerating
deformity, as it displayed them to more advantage, and shedding
over all the mellow glow of his fervid imagination ; startling by

96 ALONE

paradoxes, to enchant by the grace and beauty of their reconcilia-
tion. And Charley, with a cooler brain and wary eye, was
ready to temper, not damp his enthusiasm ; not to dam the
rushing flood, but lead it aside into a smoother channel. Ida
thought of the compass-box, and charmed as she was by the
eloquence of this modern Raphael, acknowledged the justice of
the simile. For herself, appreciative and suggestive, she fanned
the flame. Her sympathetic glance and smile, the quick catching
at a thought, half unuttered ; the finish and polish his crude
ideas received from her lighter hand, could not but please and
flatter. How grating was the interruption !

" Mr. Dana ! not dancing I"

" No, Mr. Truman, but exceedingly well entertained."

" Hav'nt a doubt of it ! hav'nt a doubt ! but there's a young
lady a stranger who wants a partner for the set that is form-
ing, and as your brother is engaged to dance, I mean with
Miss Somebody I forget who I thought as an old friend, I
would make so free as to call upon you, ah ah she being a
stranger, you understand, ah ah

" Certainly sir, of course, where is she ?" said Charley, swal-
lowing his chagrin, in his willingness to oblige the embarrassed
host. " Charles Dana, { having gone to see his partner, desires
the prayers of the congregation," he said aside to his compa-
nions, before plunging into the throng.

" ' 0, rare Ben Jonson !' " said Mr. Holmes, as they disap-
peared.

" And most incomprehensible of anomalies !" responded Ida.

" The dross is upon the surface refined gold beneath. Have
you known him long ?"

" But a fortnight."

" You have not mastered the alphabet yet. Bright and danc-
ing as is that eye, I have seen it shed tears in abundance and
softness, like a woman's. His tongue knows other language than
that of flippant trifling."

" He is a universal favorite. I am surprised he has never
married."

Mr. Holmes was silent. He even looked pained; and Ida,
conscious that she had unwittingly touched a sore spot, took up
the strain Mr. Truman had broken. She was in the Coliseum

ALONE. 97

of Rome; when among the moving sea of faces precipitated upon
the retina, yet nothing to the brain, unless, perhaps, making
more vivid its conceptions of the multitude, who once lined the
crumbling walls of the amphitheatre one arrested her atten-
tion. The subject was thrilling; the speaker's description gra-
phic and earnest; it was unkind, and ungrateful, and disre-
spectful but laugh she must, and did, when in Charley's
partner she beheld Celestia Pratt! Her first emotion was
extreme amusement; her next, indignant compassion for him
thrust into public notice as the cavalier of a tawdry fright ; for
the thickest of satin robes, and a load of jewelry, that gave plau-
sibility to the tale of Hannibal's spoils at Cannae, betrayed,
instead of cloaking vulgarity. He was playing the agreeable,
however, with his wonted sang-froid, varied, as she judged from
his gestures, by gratuitous hints as to the figure and step. In
trying to efface the remembrance of her rudeness from Mr.
Holmes' mind, and watching the oddly matched pair, she passed
the time until the set was finished. Arthur approached, and the
gleam of his white teeth upset her acquired gravity.

" Caught," said he, as Mr. Holmes walked away, "just as I
was. I secured a partner directly I saw her ; and Mr. Truman,
hearing from her that I was an acquaintance, put at me two
minutes later."

He said you were engaged to dance."

" Here he is ! Charley, I thought you declined dancing."

" So I did. I consented to please Mr. Truman."

" Had you ever seen your partner before ?"

" No. I know what you are at, Art., but I cannot laugh with
you. I am sorry for her."

'" You shame us, Mr. Dana," said Ida, frankly. ' " I will
make amends for my uncharitableness, by fighting my way, sin-
gle-handed, to the farthest end of the room, to speak to her, if
you say so."

" And I, not to be outdone, will dance with her," said Arthur,
with a martyr-air.

" I absolve you," said his brother. She is a queer fish, I
own," in his light tone. " Have you spoken to Holmes ?"

" Yes. He says he has partly resolved to winter in Rich-
mond. He is a groomsman ; but the party disband to-morrow ;
9

98 ALONE.

only Miss Morris attending the young couple to their home up
the country. I have invited Lynn to epend some time with us,
before he settles to business."

Will he come ?"

Probably."

A succession of introductions and beaux engaged Ida until
supper. She forgot her purpose of speaking with Celestia, and
would not have remembered her again that evening, had she not
been made aware of her proximity at table by something between
a grunt and exclamation, forced through a mouthful of cake.

" Lor ! if that ain't Idy Koss !"

She had a saucer of ice-cream in one hand, and a slice of fruit-
cake in her left ; so she stuck out a red elbow in lieu of either ;
which unique salutation Ida pretended not to see.

'How are you, Celestia? When did you come into the
neighbourhood ?"

" I jest got down yesterday. You see," in a stage whisper,
" I heard of this party better'n a fortnight ago, and ma and I
set our hearts 'pon my coming ; so I had this dress made (it
cost four dollars a yard !) and happened, you know, to pay a
visit to Cousin Lucindy Martin's, jest in the nick of time, and
Mrs. Truman, found out, you know, that I was there, and sent
me a 'bid.' Didn't I manage it nice?"

" You appear to be having a pleasant time."

" 0, splendid ! I've danced every set. Thar's a heap of polite
beaux ain't there ?"

" Miss Koss, what shall I have the pleasure of helping you
to ?" asked Mr. Euston, Ida's escort.

"She named an article, and Celestia twitched her arm
Who's that ?"

Mr. Euston," said Ida, distinctly.

"Is he your beau?

"No."

Then you'd as lief as not interduce me, hadn't you? He's
the loveliest thing I ever saw."

Ida flushed with disgust and vexation ; the insufferable con-
ceit of the girl, her bizarre appearance, and harsh tones drew the
notice of many to them ; and her horror of ridicule was strong
upon her.

ALONE. 99

" Miss Ida," said Charles Dana, across the table. " Will you
cat a philopoena with me?" As he tossed the almond, she
marked his expression, and the scene in the painting-room, Jose-
phine's derision, and the rude mirth of her supporters, her hur-
ricane of rage and the commanding look that said to it " Be
still," all rushed over her like a whirlwind, and departed sud-
denly. Mr. Euston was bowing with the desired delicacy;
Celcstia, serenely expectant, and with the mien of one who con-
fers a favour upon both parties, she complied with the fair lady's
request. Mr. Euston was handsome and gallant; he immedi-
ately dipped into his stock of pretty sayings, and presented one
of the most elegant. The recipient fluttered and prinked, and
baited another hook; and Ida stole a look at Charley. Her not
recognizing him before was no marvel ; she could hardly per-
suade herself that her conviction of a minute before was not an
illusion; so impervious was the Momus mask. He was fre-
quently near, and with her, in the course of the evening : but
no sign betokened a suspicion of her perplexity. He was gayer
than his wont ; when sheer fatigue drove the votaries of pleasure
from the festive hall, his spirits were at their meridian. He had
passed most of the day on horseback ; had talked and danced and
stood for six hours; yet he sent off carriage after carriage with a
lively adieu ; and seeing his own party seated in theirs, vaulted
into the saddle, as for a morning gallop. He cheered the weary
travellers so long as he could extort replies from the lagging
tongues, and serenaded them the rest of the way with snatches
of melody fantastic as his mood.

" Why have you and Charley preserved such a mysterious
silence respecting our former meeting?" inquired Ida, when she
and Carry were laid down to sleep.

" He charged me not to name him, if I heard the matter
alluded to; and, since we have been at home, enjoined secrecy
more strictly, saying the incident was better forgotten than
remembered," said Carry, dozingly.

This was Thursday. On Saturday the young artist made one
in their midst. In his school-days he was a welcome guest at
Poplar-grove, spending a portion of his vacation with his friend
Charley, and the lapse of years had not rusted the hinges of

100 ALONE.

the hospitable doors, or those of the master's heart. He was
received and cherished as of old.

Mrs. Dana looked into the girls' room before retiring. Ida
was brushing her hair; Carry watching and talking to her.
Yes," said she, complacently, appealing to her sister for con-
firmation. " I flatter myself our party could not be more select
or composed of choicer materials. Four beaux including father
handsomest of all; and but two belles three pardon me,
Mrs. Dana. It may be a century ere we are again so blessed ;
and we must go somewhere, or do something to exhibit our-
selves. Ida may have Charley and father, if she will leave the
Italian and his lamping eyes to me."

"And Arthur why is he neglected the division of spoils?"
asked Mrs. Dana.

" I make him over to you. Brother John commended you to
his care."

" Mammy applied to me for numberless passes, to-night.
There is a big meeting at Rocky Mount. The servants will
attend en masse, to-morrow; why not follow their example?"
said Mrs. Dana, with playful irony.

" We will !" exclaimed Carry, clapping her hands. " I'll
ask father this minute."

" But, my dear sister "

" Don't say a word, Jenny; Ida would like to go, I am sure."

"When I understand the character of the entertainment; I
shall be qualified to express my wishes."

" Why," answered Carry, tying the cord of the wrapper she
had cast around her. "They preach a little, and sing and
shout; and in intermission, we have grand fun."

Fun ! at church !"

" That is not the word precisely; but everybody meets every-
body else, and we have an hour for talking and eating. How
happens it, that you are a novice ? you are country-born."

" I was never at a big meeting, notwithstanding."

" An additional reason, why we should be on the spot to-
morrow. I will be back directly."

In five minutes she returned, blushing and laughing.

" Would you believe it? When I knocked at father's door,
Arthur opened it. I slunk back in the dark, and asked for

ALONE. 101

Marster.' ' Doctor/ said he, Martha wants to see you,' and
sauntered off. Didn't father stare, and I laugh, when I ran in !
The stupid creature ! to be fooled so easily I"

" The meeting !" said Ida.

" All's well ! Father was afraid we might be tired, if we
stayed to both sermons ; but I assured him that was impossible.
I hope it will be a fine day !"

She was gratified ; but the weather was not brighter than the
faces gathered upon the piazza, at a shockingly unfashionable
hour. It was six miles to Rocky Mount; and as Charley
observed, " seats in the dress circle would be at a premium, two
hours before services begun."

" 'Marster' does not accompany us," said Arthur, significantly,
as he handed Carry into the carriage. She was too much con-
fused to reply; but Ida and Mrs. Dana laughed outright.

" Papa and myself, having no vagrant propensities, will go to
our own church," anwered the latter. " And if you have waited
upon the young ladies, I will thank you to put me into the gig,
Dr. Dana."

Mr. Holmes accepted a seat with the ladies ; Charley and
Arthur were on horseback. It is doubtful if one of the merry
riders realised, for an instant, the sacredness of the day, or that
they were bound to a place of worship. It did not occur, even
to Dr. Carleton, that their glee, innocent and proper upon ordi-
nary occasions, now verged upon sinful levity. He saw in it,
the buoyancy of youth under the influence of agreeable company,
and a cloudless day. They would be subdued by the exercises
of* the sanctuary; and he drove .along, his large heart full of
love and praise to Him who had showered these gem-sparkles
into his chalice of life ; the young people beguiling the length
of their journey, by a running fire of badinage, puns and serio-
comic discussions; embarked, to all intents and purposes, upon
a party of pleasure.

" Behold Rocky Mount !" said Arthur, pointing to a rising
ground, tufted by a clump of oaks.

" "Where is the church ?" inquired Ida. I can distinguish
people and horses, but no house."

"After we get there, I will lend you my pocket microscope/''
responded Charley. The brown walls of a small building, in
9*

102 ALONE.

the centre of the grove, were visible, as the road wound around

the hill ; but its dimensions were as great a puzzle as its absence

would have been. Carry came to her aid.
" They preach out of doors, my dear."
" Out of doors I" this was a charming novelty.
" ' The groves were God's first temples,' " she repeated softly,

and Lynn continued the noble lines

"Ah, why

Should we, in the world's riper years, neglect
God's ancient sanctuaries, and adore,
Only among the crowd, and under roofs
That our frail hands have raised ?"

Charley smiled dubiously, but held his peace. The crowd
thickened with their advance. Horses were tethered in solid
ranks to the trees ; children straying frightfully near to their
heels; wagons and carriages almost piled upon each other; and
men, white and black, stood about everywhere. The driver
reined up, twenty yards from the arbor erected under the trees.

" Drive up nearer, Tom I" said Carry.

" He cannot," replied Arthur, letting down the steps.
Look I"

There was a quadruple row of vehicles on three sides of the
arbor, the fourth being, at considerable pains, left open for
passage. Several young men dashed to the side of the carriage,
with as much empressment as at a ball, and thus numerously
attended, the girls picked their way through the throng and
dust. No gentlemen were, as yet, in their seats, and our party
secured a vacant bench midway to the pulpit.

" Don't sit next to the aisle," whispered Arthur.

" Why not ?" questioned Ida, removing to the other extremity
of the plank.

" Oh ! it is more comfortable here. We will be with you
again presently."

" That is not all the reason," remarked Carry, when he was
gone. " This railing protects us from the press on this side ;
and our young gentleman will not permit any one to occupy the
stand without, but themselves."

Will they not sit down?"

No, indeed ! there will not be room. Then the aisles will

ALONE. 103

be filled with all sorts of people, and our dresses be liable ta
damage from boots and tobacco juice."

" Tobacco juice I" was she in a barbarous country ! As Carry
predicted, their -three attendants worked their way, between the
wheels and the people, to where they sat. Charley crawled
under the rail, and planted himself behind them.

" I can keep my position until some pretty girl dislodges me,"
said he. The denizens of these parts have not forgotten how
to stare."

He might well say so A battery of eyes was levelled upon
them, wherever they looked. The tasteful dress and elegant
appearance of the ladies, and their attractive suite, were subjects
of special importance to the community at large. Although
eclipsed in show by some present, theirs was a new constellation,
and they must support observation as they could. They stood
fire bravely; Ida was most unacccustomed to it, and she found
so much to interest and divert her, that she became unconscious
of the annoyance after a little.

" Are those seats reserved for distinguished strangers ? have
not we a right to them?" designating a tier in front of the
speaker's stand.

" They are the anxious benches," returned Charley.

Nonsense 1"

" So I think. The brethren dissent from us. I am not
quizzing. That is the name."

" The mourners the convicted occupy them," said Carry.

" Are they here ?" inquired Ida, credulously. It was prepos-
terous to conceive such a possibility in this frivolous loud-talking

" Not now;" answered Charley. But when they crowd on
the steam, you will witness scores."

" Fie ! Charley? it is wicked to speak so !"

"I am just as pious as if I did not, Carry. I'll wager my
horse and head too that by to-night, Miss Ida will agree with
me, that these religious frolics are more hurtful to the cause they
are intended to advance, than fifty such harmless affairs, as we
attended on Thursday night."

I am not solemnised yet;" said Ida.

" You are as solemn as you are going to be. You may be

104 ALONE.

excited, or frightened into something like gravity. Two, three,
four preachers ! That's what I call a waste of the raw material.
What a flutter of ribbons and fans ! The congregation reminds
me of a clover field, with the butterflies hovering over its gaily-
colored, bobbing heads. Handsome ladies by dozens ! This
county is famed for its beauty, and but one tolerable-looking
man in its length and breadth I"

" Why, there is Mr, Euston what fault have you to find in
him ?"

" He is the honorable exception. Whom did you think I
meant?" smiling mischievously at Carry's unguarded query.
"Art. here, is passable. Modesty prevents my saying more, as
we are daily mistaken for each other. The music strikes up;
rather quavering ; they are not in the ' spirit' yet. They never
get to the understanding.' I must decamp. Those fair ones
are too bashful to look this way, while I am here."

He was on the outside of the rail, sedate and deacon-like, in
a minute. Unsuited as his remarks were to the time and place,
they were less objectionable than the whispers of the ladies who
dispossessed him; critiques upon Susan's beaux and Joseph's
sweethearts ; upon faces, dress and deportment ; a quantity of
reprobation, and very sparse praises.

The preacher was an unremarkable man, who delivered, in a
sing-song tone, an unremarkable discourse ; opposing no impedi-
ment to the sociability of the aforementioned damsels, except
that they lowered their shrill staccato to a piano. The gentle-
men whispered behind their hats, notched switches, and whittled
sticks. The hearers from Poplar-grove, albeit they were gay,
youthful, and non-professors, were the most decorous auditors in
their part of the congregation. Another minister arose ; a man
not yet in his thirtieth year, his form stooped, as beneath the
weight of sixty winters. The crowd stilled instantly. He
leaned, as for support, upon the primitive desk ; his attenuated
hands clasped, his eyes moving slowly in their cavernous
recesses, over the vast assemblage. "And what come ye out
into the wilderness for to see?" he said, in a voice of preter-
natural sweetness and strength. "Aye! ye arc come as to a
holiday pageant, bedecked in tinsel and costly raiment. I see
before me the pride of beauty and youth ; the middle-aged, in

ALONE. 105

the strength of manliness and honor, the hoary hairs and decrepid
limbs of age ; all trampling hustling each other in your haste
in one beaten road the way to death and judgment ! Oh !
fools and blind ! slow-worms, battening upon the damps and filth
of this vile earth ! hugging your muck rakes while the glorious
One proffers you the crown of Life 1" The bent figure straight-
ened ; the thin hands were endowed with a language of power,
as they pointed, and shook, and glanced through the air. His
clarion tones thrilled upon every ear, their alarms and threaten-
ings and denunciations; in crashing peals, the awful names of
the Most High, and His condemnations of the wicked, descended
among the throng; and those fearful eyes were fiery and wrath-
ful. At the climax he stopped ; with arms still upraised, and
the words of woe and doom yet upon his lips, he sank upon the
arm of a brother beside him, and was led to his seat, ghastly as
a corpse, and nearly as helpless.
A female voice began a hymn.

"This is the field, the world below,
Where wheat and tares together grow;
Jesus, ere long will weed the crop,
And pluck the tares in anger up."

The hills, for miles around, reverberated the bursting chorus,

"For soon the reaping time will come,
And angels shout the harvest home !"

The ministers came down from the stand, and distributed
themselves among the people ; bowed heads and shaking forms
marking their path ; a woman from the most remote quarter of
the throng, rushed up to the mourner's seats, and flung herself
upon her knees with a piercing cry; another and another;
some weeping aloud ; some in tearless distress ; numbers knelt
where they had sat ; and louder and louder, like the final trump,
and the shout of the resurrection morn, arose the surge of song;

" For soon the reaping time will come
And angels shout the harvest home !"

Carry trembled and shrank; and Ida's firmer nerves were
quivering. A lull in the storm, and a man knelt in the aisle,
to implore " mercy and pardon for a dying sinner, who would
not try to avert the wrath to come."

Sonorous accents went on with his weeping petition; praying

106 ALONE.

for " the hardened, thoughtless transgressors those who had
neither part nor lot in this matter; who stood afar off, despising
and reckless." Again rolled out a chorus; speaking now of
joyful assurance.

"Jesus my all to heaven has gone

(When we get to heaven we will part no more,)
He whom I fix my hopes upon

When we get to heaven we will part no more.
Oh ! Fare-you-well ! oh ! fare-you-well !
When we get to heaven we will part no more,

Oh ! Fare-you-well !"

Ida's eyes brimmed, and Carry sobbed with over-wrought
feeling. Arthur bent over the railing and spoke to the latter.
He looked troubled, but for her : Lynn stood against one of
the pillars which supported the roof; arms crossed, and a redder
mantling of his dark cheek ; Charley was cool and grave, taking
in the scene in all its parts, with no sympathy with any of the
phases of emotion. The tumult increased; shouted thankgivings,
and wails of despair ; singing and praying and exhorting, clash-
ing in wild confusion.

" You had best not stay here," said Arthnr to Carry, whose
struggles for composure he could not bear to see.

"Suffer me to pass, Dr. Dana;" and a venerable minister
stooped towards the weeping girl. " My daughter, why do you
remain here, so far from those who can do you good ? You are
distressed on account of sin; are you ashamed to have it known ?
Do you not desire the prayer of Christians? I will not affirm
that you cannot be saved anywhere ; ' the arm of the Lord is not
shortened/ but I do warn you, that if you hang back in pride or
stubbornness, you will be lost ; and these only can detain you
after what you have heard. Arise, and join that company of
weeping mourners, it may not be too late."

Carry shook her head.

" Then kneel where you are, and I will pray for you."

She dried her tears. " Why should I kneel, Mr. Manly ? I
do not experience any sorrow for sin."

My child !"

" My tears are not those of penitence ; I do not weep for iny
infulness ; I can neither think nor feel in this confusion."

The good man was fairly stumbled by this avowal.

" Have you no interest in this subject ?"

ALONE. 107

"Not more than usual, sir. My agitation proceeded from
animal excitement."

"I am fearful it is the same in a majority of instances, Mr.
Manly ;" said Arthur, respectfully.

11 You my perceive your error one day, my son ; let me entreat
you to consider this matter as binding up your eternal welfare ;
and caution you not to lay a feather in the way of those who may
be seeking their salvation."

Arthur bowed silently; and the minister passed on.

Dr. Carleton retired early that evening with a headache.
Mrs. Dana was getting the children to sleep ; the young people
had the parlor to themselves. Charley was at the piano, finger-
ing over sacred airs ; psalm tunes, sung by the Covenanters, in
their craggy temples, or murmuring to an impromptu accompani-
ment, a chant or doxology. All at once he struck the chords
boldly, and added the full powers of the instrument to his voice,
in the fine old melody of Brattle Street. Lynn ceased his walk
through the room, and united his rich base at the second line j
Arthur, a tenor; Catry and Ida were happy to be permitted to
listen

" While Thee I seek, protecting Power,

Be my vain wishes stilled ;
And may this consecrated hour

With better hopes be filled.

Thy love the power of thought bestowed,

To thee my thoughts would soar;
Thy mercy o'er my life has poured,

That mercy I adore.

In each event of life how clear

Thy ruling hand I see !
Each mercy to my soul most dear,

Because conferred by Thee.

In every joy that crowns my days,

In every pain I bear,
My heart shall find delight in praise,

Or seek relief in prayer.

When gladness wings my favored hour,

Thy love my thoughts shall fill;
Resigned when storms of sorrow lower,

My soul shall meet Thy will.

My lifted eye, without a tear,

The gathering storm shall see;
My steadfast heart shall know no fear,

That heart will rest on Thee!"

108 ALONE.

" There !" said Charley, " there is more religion in that hymn
than in all the fustian we have heard to-day ; sermons, prayers
and exhortations. Humbug in worldly concerns is despicable ;
in the church, it is unbearable."

Consider, Charley, that hundred of pious people believe in
the practices you condemn. Some of the best Christians I know
were converted at these noisy revivals," said Carry.

" It would be miraculous if there were not a grain or two of
wheat in this pile of chaff. I never attend one that I am not
the worse for it. It is a regular annealing furnace; when the
heat subsides you can neither soften or bend the heart again
the iron is steel. What dees Miss Ida say ?"

" That sin is no more hateful, or religion more alluring, for
this Sabbath's lessons ; still, I acquiesce in Carry's belief, that
although mistaken iu their zeal, these seeming fanatics are
sincere."

"You applaud enthusiasm upon other subjects, why not in
religion?" asked Lynn , " if any thing, it is everything. If Icould
believe that, when the stormy sea of life is passed, heaven an
eternal noon-tide of love and blessedness would be mine a life-
time would be too short, mortal language too feeble to express
my transport. There is a void in the soul which nought but this
can satisfy. Life is fresh to us now ; but from the time of
Solomon to the present, the worlding has nauseated at the pol-
luted spring, saying, ' For all his days are sorrow, and his travail
grief; yea, his heart taketh not rest in the night.' I envy not
carp at the joys of those whose faith, piercing through the fogs
of this lower earth, reads the sure promise 'It is your Father's
good pleasure to give you the kingdom.' "

"You do homage to the beauty of the Faith, by whomsoever
professed. I note its practical effects ; judge of its genuineness
by its workings. For example, the Old Harry awoke mightily
within me, in intermission, to see Dick Hogers preaching to
Carry, threatening her with perdition she, who never in her
life, committed a tenth of the sin he is guilty of every day. He
has been drunk three times in the last month ; he is a walking
demijohn ; his hypocrisy a shame to his grey hairs. And James
Mather he would sell his soul for a fourpence, and call it clear
gain. Sooner than lose a crop, he forces his negroes to work on

ALONE. 109

Sunday can'i trust the God of harvest, even upon His own
day. The poor hands are driven on week-days as no decent
man would do a mule ; he let his widowed sister go to the poor-
house, and offered to lend John five thousand dollars, the next
week at eight per cent. I have known him since I was a shaver,
and never had a word from him upon the one thing needful,'
except at church. And he was in the altar, this morning, shout-
ing as though the Lord were deaf I"

Charley ! Charley !"

" Facts are obstinate things, Carry. Next to being hypocri-
tical ourselves, is winking at it in others. The church keeps
these men in her bosom ; she must not complain, if she shares
in the odium they merit. They are emphatically sounding
brass."

" Let them grow together until the harvest," said Arthur.
" It is a convincing proof of the truth of Religion, that there are
careful counterfeits."

" I do not impeach the 'truth of Religion.' You need not
speak so reproachfully, Arthur. I believe in the Christianity of
the Scriptures. What I assail, is intermittent piety ; springs,
whose channels are dusty, save at particular seasons ; camp-
meetings and the like ; men, who furbish up their religion, along
with their go-to-meeting boots, and wear it no longer. Their
brethren despise them as I do ; but their mouths are shut, lest
they bring disgrace upon their profession.' It can have no
fouler disgrace than their lives afford, I speak what others con-
ceal ; when one of these whited sepulchres lifts his Bible to break
my head, for a graceless reprobate, I pelt him with pebbles from
the clear brook. Look at old Thistleton ! a mongrel,
porcupine and bull-dog; pricking and snarling from morning
'till night. A Christian is a gentleman; he is a surly growler.
Half of the church hate, the other half dread him; yet he sits
on Sabbaths, in the high places of the synagogues, leads prayer-
meetings, and weeps over sinners sanctified brother Thistleton.'
He thunders the law at me ; and I knock him down with a stout
stick, St. John cuts ready to my hand ; If a man say, I love
God, and hate his brother, he is a liar !' I hush up Rogers,
with No drunkard shall inherit the kingdom ;' and Mather,
with, t you cannot serve God and Mammon.' They say I am a
10

110 ALONE.

scoffer; I don't care. Now" continued this contrary being,
passing ink a tone of reverent feeling ; There is my kind
guardian. I don't believe he ever shouted, or made a public
address in his life. He. lives his religion; a child can perceive
that the Bible is a lamp to his feet ;' a pillar of cloud in pros-
perity ; a sun in adversity. I saw it when a boy, and it did me
more good than the preached sermons I have listened to since.
He called me into his study the night before I left home, and gave
me a copy of ' the book.' Charley, my son/ said he, you are
venturing upon untried seas ; here is the Chart, to which t have
trusted for twenty years ; and have never been led by it, upon a
quicksand. Look to it, my boy !' I have read it, more, because
he asked it, than for its intrinsic value; that is my failing, not
his. I have waded through sloughs of theories and objections;
but hold to it still. Especially, when I am here, and kneel in
my old place at the family altar ; hear the solemn tones, that
quieted my boyish gayety ; when I witness his irreproachable,
useful life, I say, His chart is true ; would I were guided by
it !' No no Art. ! I may be careless and sinful ; I am no
skeptic."

" A skepticl" exclaimed Lynn. " There never was one !
Voltaire was a fiend incarnate; a devil, who 'believed and trem-
bled,' in spite of his hardihood ; Paine, a brute, who, inconve-
nienced by a soul, which would not sink as low as his passions
commanded, tried to show that he had none, as the easiest
method of disembarrassing himself. That one of God's creatures,
who can look up to the glories of a night like this, or see the
sun rise to-morrow morning, and peep, in his insect voice, a
denial of Him who mada the world, is demon or beast; often
both. ( Call no man happy 'till he dies/ Atheists have gone
to the stake for their opinions; but physical courage or the heat
of fanaticism, not the belief, sustained them. We have yet to
hear of the infidel, who died in his bed,

'As one who wraps the drapery of his couch
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.' "

It is a mystery that one can die tranquilly," said Carry.
" I have stood by many peaceful death-beds," returned Arthur.
" I never wish so ardently for an interest in the Redemption, as

ALONE. Ill

when I watch the departure of a saint. One verse is in my
mind for days afterwards. I repeat it aloud as I ride alone ; and
it lingers in my last waking thought at night :

'Jesus can make a dying bed

Feel soft as downy pillows are ;
'While on his breast, I lean my head,

And breathe my life out sweetly there.'

"And why do you not encourage these feelings?" asked
Charley, bluntly. "I call that conviction; a different thing
from the burly of this morning. You want to be a Christian;
so do I sometimes; but you are a more hopeful subject."

" I am by no means certain of that. You would never abide
with the half-decided, so long as I have done. You are one
of the violent,' who would take the kingdom of Heaven by
force."

" How strange !" said Charley, thoughtfully.

" What is strange ?" inquired his brother.

" Here are five of us, as well-assured of the verity of Chris-
tianity, and God's revealed Word, as of our own existence ; the
ladies, practising every Christian virtue; Lynn, prepared to
break a lance with infidelity in any shape ; you, like Agrippa,
almost persuaded ; and I, stripping off the borrowed plumage of
those who have a name to live ; yet we will be content to close
our eyes in sleep, uncertain of re-opening them in life ; unfit
for Death and Eternity !"

He turned again to the piano; Arthur quitted the room ; Lynn
gazed out of the window, with working features ; Carry shaded
her eyes with her hand ; Ida felt a cold awe creeping over her.
1 Death and Eternity !' had she heard the words before ? how out
of place in the bright warm life they were leading ! Here were
true friendships, tried and strengthened by years ; young love,
joying in his flowery course; refined and congenial spirits; the
luxuries of wealth and taste; how unwelcome the hand that
lifted the drapery which enveloped the skeleton ! ( Death and
Eternity!' The spell was upon the scented air; the moon
threw shadows upon the grass, as of newly heaped graves ; and
the vibrating cords spoke but of the one awful theme !

112 ALONE

CHAPTER X.

" OUR last ride can it be !" said Lynn, when the horses
were brought to the gate, early in a September afternoon. Ida
smiled faintly. The parting of the morrow, was, to her, the
death of a summer's day, to be succeeded by wintry darkness.
Not even Carry knew how the prospect oppressed her.

Lynn saw that his remark was injudicious, and endeavoured
to atone for it, by the most delicate assiduity of attention.
Their liking had matured into an attachment, which might have
been predicated upon their consonance of feeling and sentiment.
Her calmer judgment gave her the ascendancy, which belonged
of right, to the masculine mind ; he did not look up she could
not have respected him if he had ; but he consulted and appealed
to her, as a brother would ask counsel of an elder sister. She
learned to imitate Charley, in curbing his impetuosity ; and he
chafed less at her soft touch upon the rein. No bantering
checked the growth of their friendship ; they were, for the time,
members of one family j Lynn and Charley were no more to the
disengaged young lady than Arthur.

Their excursion was to a splendid mansion, fifteen miles from
Poplar-grove, lately completed, and not yet occupied by a
wealthy landed proprietor, the Crossus of the county. Arthur
had seen it, and carried home such a report of its stately gran-
deur, that a visit was forthwith projected. Nature was in one
of her richest autumnal moods.

" She dies, as a queen should in royal robes," said Lynn.
" Note the purple haze upon those hills, and the yellow glory
that bathes the foreground ! I would sacrifice this right arm,
could I first transfer that light to canvass. Loveliness like this
maddens me with a Tantalus frenzy. To think that it must
fade, when it should be immortal ! I would have it ever before
me."

"It lives in your memory. That is a pleasure, time nor
distance diminishes."

I am not satisfied with this selfish hoarding. A voice is

ALONE. 113

ever urging me on, 'Create! create!' it cries; and while my
pencil moves, I am a creator j exulting in the pictures graven
upon my soul, as no parent ever joyed over a beloved child.
They are mine mine !' I repeat in an ecstacy. I have wept
above almost worshipped them ! Then comes the chill, grey
light of critical reason, as when you awake at morning, and see
things as they are : the soul-pictures are beauteous still : my
copy the veriest daub I"

11 The keenness of your disappointment is an augury of success.
The lithography is perfect you must not despond at the failure
of one proof-impression. Your mortification is a greater triumph
than the complacency with which a mediocre genius surveys his
work."

" You remember Sheridan's maiden speech," said Charley.

" I have read of Demosthenes'," replied Lynn.

" Sheridan's was a similar case. He was hooted at for his
presumption ; his first and second attempts were wretched : and
his friends advised him to retire from the rostrum forever.
'Never !' said he, striking his breast. It is here, and shall come
out!'"

"A glorious 'coming out' it was!" responded Ida. "What
do you say now ?" to Lynn.

"That it is here!" returning her bright look. "Was ever
man more blessed in his friends ? More fortunate than Adam, I
take my guardian angels with me, from the Paradise I leave
to-morrow."

" You must array one in a less questionable shape, if you
would have men admit his angelic relationship," said Charley,
with a grimace. " What are you looking at?"

Lynn did not reply. They were upon a hill ; and some object
in the valley beneath fastened his gaze. The pensive cast of his
features bordered upon gloom, as they neared it. Ida saw only
a graceful knoll, bounded, except towards the west, by a chain
of more imposing eminences. A monarch oak stood in isolated
sovereignty upon its summit ; it had shaded a dwelling, for one
chimney yet remained ; and the sickly herbage of the slope was
not the produce of a virgin soil. Lynn stopped. Not a word
was spoken, his eyes were too full of tender sadness j the man--
not the artist, looked from them.

10*

114 ALONE.

" A lonely tree, and a desolate hearth-stone I" muttered he.
"It is prophetic!"

" Is the spot known to you?" asked Ida, gently, as they rode
on.

" It was my birth-place."

"I had forgotten;" said Charley. "You were very young
when you left it."

" But I remember it. I could point out to you the very place
where my mother taught me to walk; a grass-plat before the
door : she upon the step, my father kneeling at a short distance,
and each tempting me to undertake the journey from one to the
other. They are gone ! parents, brother, sisters I there is but
one puny scion of a noble line remaining!"

Ida turned her face away. The sad story everywhere ! Was
there justice there was not mercy in thus rending away the
sweetest comforts man can know, while avarice, and pride and
malevolence rioted in unharmed luxuriance. Earth was a cheat,
and happiness a lie !

" This is a fine piece of road," said Charley, and we are
jogging over it, like Quakers going to market. I say ! Art. !"

"Well!" answered his brother, who was some yards in
advance.

" Don't you think your Kosinante would be benefitted by a
taste of the spur?"

Oh ! the delight of a sweeping gallop in the open country ! the
elate consciousness of strength and liberty, as the magnificent
animal beneath you exerts every thew and sinew in obedience to
your voice and hand ; you and he together forming one resistless
power, free as the rushing air able to overleap or bear down
any obstacle ! The jocund tones wafted back by the breeze
attested the efficacy of Charley's prescription.

"That bend hides 'the Castle;'" called out Arthur.

" I will be the first to see it !" exclaimed Carry, and as the
turning was gained, she raised herself from the saddle. It was
an unguarded moment ; the horse circled the bend in a run ;
and she was thrown directly in the road of the trampling hoofs
behind. Charley's horse fell back upon his haunches ; there
was giant might in the hand that reined him ; an inch nearer,
-nd she was lost! for his fore-feet grazed her shoulder.

ALONE. 115

My dearest love I" cried the agitated Arthur, raising her in*
his arms. " Thank God ! you axe not killed I"

" I am not hurt, dear Arthur ! you are all so frightened ! it
was very careless in me. Indeed I do not require support I
am not injured in the least!"

" Are you sure ?" questioned Ida, anxiously : " or do you say
it for our sakes ?"

" I was never more free from pain. And I am able and ready
to go on ?"

" You were her saviour !" Arthur griped his brother's hand,
with a trembling lip.

" No thanks ! I would not run down a cow or sheep if I could
help it."

Arthur's even temper was tried by this speech, and the more,
that it wounded Carry.

" Coarse ! unfeeling !" thought Ida. She grudged him the
eloquent affection of Lynn's glance. "I do not care to go fur-
ther j" said she, when Carry was reseated.

" What ! turn back within sight of the Promised Land ?" said
Carry. " Do not cause me to feel that I have spoiled your after-
noon's pleasure ! Oscar and I will not part company again so
unceremoniously, will we, old fellow ? Allons !" and she shook
the reins gaily. The rest followed with reluctance, and for
awhile, very soberly. The thought of what might have been
the result of the accident, she treated so lightly, precluded jest,
and they would not speak of it seriously. By tacit consent, it
was not referred to again. Lynn recovered himself first j he
forgot everything but the fair domain they were entering ; and
his raptures awakened the others to its attractions. The house
was a princely pile, rearing its towers from the midst of a finely-
wooded park. The architecture was Gothic, and perfect in all
its parts, even to the stained windows, imported, at an immense
expense, from abroad. A village at the base of the hill, was
peopled by the negroes, of whom there were more than an
hundred connected with the plantation. The equestrians rode
up the single street. Good humour and neatness characterised the
simple inhabitants; children drew to one side of the road, with
smiles and courtesies ; the aged raised their bleared eyes, to reply
to the respectful salutations of the young riders ; through the

116 ALONE.

open doors were seen clean, comfortably-furnished rooms ;~in
most, the tables were spread for the evening meal, and the busy
housewives preparing for their husband's return from field or
forest.

" These are thy down-trodden children, Africa !" said Ida,
sarcastically.

Lynn fired up. "They are the happiest beings upon the
globe."

" So far as animal wants are concerned," subjoined Arthur.

" I do not accept of that clause. They are happy ! They
have a kind and generous master ; every comfort in health ;
good nursing when ill; their church and Bible, and their
Saviour, who is also ours. What the race may become, I do not
pretend to say. These are far in advance of the original stock ;
but their intellectual appetite is dull, and I dare affirm that in
nine cases out of ten it is satisfied. I never knew a master who
denied his servants permission to read, and many have them
taught by their own children. The slave lies down at night,
every want supplied, his family as well cared for as himself;
not a thought of to-morrow ! he is secure of a home and mainte-
nance, without disturbing himself as to the manner in which it
is to be obtained. Can the same be said of the menial classes in
any other country under the sun ?"

" American as ever !" smiled Carry.

" And Virginian as ever ! The Old Dominion is my mother!
he is not a loyal son who does not prefer her, with her infirmi-
ties and foibles, to a dozen of the modern fast ' belle states.
The dear old creature has a wrinkle or two that do not improve
her comeliness, and adheres somewhat pertinaciously to certain
obsolete ideas, but Heaven bless her ! the heart is right and
sound !"

Ida's eyes sparkled

" ' Where is the coward would not dare
To die for such a land !'

Is not this scenery English, Mr. Holmes ? "We seldom see so
large a tract, under as high cultivation, in this quarter of the
globe; and where will we find another palace and park like
that ?"

" Mr. Clinton intends to stock the park with deer," said

ALONE. 117

Arthur. " That will bring before you yet more vividly the
t Homes of Merry England/ "

" If an English landscape, it is an Italian light that gilds it,"
replied Lynn. " The highlands upon the other side of the river
are Scottish ; and the tropical growth of the tobacco fields would
not be out of place under the Equator."

" Shocking your gleanings, then, you return to what Charley
calls the original proposition/ and pronounce it American
scenery," concluded Arthur.

" Precisely. One need not go abroad in quest of natural
beauties. The fairest are culled for his native land."

" What a romantic creek! that is English!" exclaimed Ida.
" I have Gr. P. R. James for authority ; a rocky ford ; a steep
bank on either side; tangled undergrowth and actually, a
rustic foot-bridge ! Oh ! for the solitary horseman !"

" There he is !" ejaculated Charley, and from the hazel-
boughs emerged an old negro, mounted upon a shaggy donkey,
a bag of corn behind him.

" There is but a step, etc.," said Ida, despairingly. It is
my fate always to take it."

With a hearty laugh, they wheeled their horses. Charley and
Ida had the lead. Exhilarated by exercise and the scenes
through which they had passed, and accustomed to chat fami-
liarly with him, she ran on for some time without remarking
that she received monosyllabic replies.

" You are tired," she observed.

" Not at all."

" Out of humor, then ?"

"Do I look so?"

"Not when you smile; but you are not making yourself
agreeable."

" I did not know that I had ever succeeded in doing so."

" What ! when Mr. Holmes says you are the only man who is
never otherwise I"

" He is partial. You can teach him better."

" The intimacy between you two mystifies me more and more.
He is all fire and impulse ; you "

" A galvanised icicle ! Do I freeze you!"

118 ALONE.

" No. That is most wonderful of all. I am not afraid of you
-although I have a cowardly horror of being laughed at."

" A. ' horror' you should overcome; it proceeds from vanity.
Like most of us, you are not apt to do or say things which you
consider particularly silly ; and are offended that the public sees
them in that light. Lynn is afflicted similarly, in a still greater
degree. It will get him into trouble yet."

" He is too independent to vacillate on account of ridicule,"
said Ida.

" Men style the peevish resentment such dispositions exhibit,
1 honor,' " returned Charley, with a half bitter emphasis. " It
is one of the million misnomers with which they deceive them-
selves."

" Among the number I may place my mistaking conceit for
sensibility ?"

"And concealment of one's feelings for insensibility," he
added.

" You misunderstood me, Mr. Dana. I do not think you
have a heart of adamant "

"But that I have none," he interrupted; his kind glance
blunting the edge of his words. " We shall understand each
other better by and by. You spoke of James a while ago ; do
you like him ?"

" No. He has two defects which spoil everything he writes,
at least to me verbosity and affectation."

" Not to mention self-plagiarism; but that is a common fault.
When an author has exhausted his capital, he had better sus-
pend honorably and wait until he has funds in hands to recom-
mence operations, than drag on, 'shinning it/ in mercantile
phrase, until the reading world dishonors his notes. Instead of
this, James, and a score more of our popular writers are palming
off upon us, duplicates and re-duplicates of their earliest produc
tions. We encounter continually some old acquaintance in a
different attire, and under an alias.' Warmed-over dinners are
good enough in their place, but when we pay the same price, we
have a right to be dainty. Dickens, himself, is not free from
this charge."

" Oh ! do not say so ! I will not hear a word against him.
He says much that seems irrelevant, and occasionally a thing

ALONE. 119

that is provokingly absurd ; but it is grand to see how, in the
denouement, he catches up these floating, apparently useless
threads, and weaves them into the fabric. He works with less
waste than any light author of the day j all is smooth and firm ;
no ragged edges or dropped stitches. And if his charming crea-
tions are set before us more than once, they can well bear a
renewal of acquaintanceship."

" But not in a disguise which is less becoming than the dress
iu which we first knew them. When we cry encore/ we ask
for a repetition, not an imitation too often a burlesque."

" But," persisted Ida, warm in defence of her favorite Boz,
" where shall we discover new phases of human nature ? The
fault is that so many men are copies of others ; we must not
censure the painter for lack of originality, who writes above his
sketches, taken from life.' Who ever reads a new love story ?
and love is not the only passion which is the same the world
over."

Charley leaned forward to brush a fly from his horse's ear.

" Are there no peculiarities in your lot ?" he inquired.

"Perhaps so," she replied, startled by the home-thrust.

"Your character is not the reflected image of another's; you
have never seen one who felt, thought, and acted exactly as you
do ; or who would have been your prototype, had your outward
circumstances been alike. The Great Original is not a servile
copyist."

The sun's rim was below the horizon, as they passed Lynn's
birth-place ; but a parting ray shot through the western gap upon
the knoll the solitary bright spot in the landscape. They went
rapidly by ; but Ida was grateful that his recollection of it should
be linked with that fragrant eve, and gleaming farewell smile.

" It is singular that in our rides we should not have taken
this road before," said Charley. " It is, just here, a mere bridle
path, but I thought we had scoured the country."

" Did you know Mr. Holmes when he lived there ?"

" No. He was fourteen years old when we met at school."

" The homestead is a pitiable wreck," continued Ida. A
lonely tree and a desolated hearth !' he said. Those mournful
words will haunt me."

"His is a sad story. His parents died within a month of

120 ALONE.

each other one by the hand of violence, the other of a broken
heart. He had lost a sister previously ; a year later his brother
went to sea, and ship nor passengers reached the port. It is
now three years since the death of a younger sister, a lovely girl,
of consumption. This train of misfortunes hangs upon Lynn's
mind and heart. He will have it that he belongs to a doomed
race. But for his warm social sympathies, and devotion to his
art, the superstition would become a monomania."

" You say his father died by violence ; was he murdered ?"

" In cold blood."

" Horrible ! And the assassin ?"

"Walks the earth, an TionouraUe man ! The sword of justice
has no point for the duellist."

"This heathenish practice is a disgraceful stain upon the
escutcheon of our State/' said Ida. " The laws are not in fault ;
popular prejudice does not sustain them."

"If they would make me autocrat for one year I would
pledge myself to abolish this system of double murdering/'
returned he.

"How?"

" Hang the survivor "

"What naughty words are you saying?" questioned Lynn,
from Ida's elbow.

" A slip of the tongue, which Miss Ida would not have noticed,
but for your officiousness/' answered Charley. " Did I tell you
of Art.'s professional call last night ? We were awakened by
an uproarious hallooing at the gate.

Who's there ?' hailed Arthur.

" ( doctor ! for massy's sake, come to see my old woman !
she's dyin' I'm Jeemes Stiger make haste I reckon she's
most done dead by this time/ and the poor fellow blubbered
out.

" I'll be there in a minute/ said Art. Don't wait.'

" In three minutes and a half his horse's hoofs were clattering
down the road, as though Tarn O'Shanter's witch were upon the
crupper. I had confidence in his skill, and did not doubt he
would try whatever could relieve 'Mrs. Jeemes Stiger/ but it was
a ticklish case ; the entire contents of his saddle-bags could not
rescue her from the jaws of death, if he had indeed clamped her.

ALONE. 121

I had resolved to postpone compassion for the bereaved husband,
to the morning, and was forgetting everything in a doze, when
the trampling of a horse aroused me. I threw up the window.
It was Art., in as hot haste as when he set out. ' What is to
pay ?' said I, as he came in. ' Forgotten any thing or is tb.e
woman dead?'

t Confound her !'

" I knew he must be pretty ' tall' to say that.

" ' Never be a doctor, Charley.'

" ' I wont, my dear boy ; but what is the matter ?

"'Why nothing just nothing!' beginning to laugh. 'I
galloped two miles like a race-rider, and ran into the house,
expecting a scene of distress perhaps of death. Mrs. Jeemes'
was sitting up, rocking herself back and forth. I felt her pulse
and inquired her symptoms/

" ' You we/ stuttered Stiger, ' she's been sort o' poorly and
droopy for three weeks, and better. I've been 'lotting to go for
you, but thought maybe she mought be able to pick up after
awhile. To-night I was so hungry myself that I didn't notice
her at supper. She was mighty poking all the evenin', and jest
now, s!i waked me. 'Jeemes/ says she, ' when folks' appetites
gives u\t, they dies don't they ?'

Tss, honey/ says I.

"'Then farewell/ says she; 'I'm a-goin'. I wouldn't say
no'A'o' about it at first, but I couldn't die without tellin' you I
m.r i-departinV

' ' 0, Susan !' says I; 'how come you to think you are dyin'.

" ' Jeemes,' says she, solemn as could be ; ' I couldn't eat no
* upper, 'cept one herring and a pone of bread, and one cup of
Coffee.'

' Doctor ! you think she'll live 'till day ? Oh ! if I had
i-gone for you three weeks ago !' "*

" ' When shall we all meet again ?' "
said Lynn that night, at the hour for separation.

"At Christmas, probably next summer, certainly/'^ replied
Arthur's cheerful voice.

" We have been too happy together to hope for a repetition

* Fact.
11

122 ALONE.

of the pleasure," said Ida. "Two such summers would be
more than falls to the share of most mortals."

" If we never meet again in this life, we shall see each other
somewhere at the end of the turnpike/' observed Charley.

Sad as were the feelings of the little company, they smiled at
his tone and action.

"Hush, Charley! I am petitioning Ida for a song," said
Carry. " One of your own, my dear. We like no other so
well. Just one more, that I may fancy I hear whenever I enter
this room."

"A parting lay from our Improvisatriee," entreated Dr.
Carleton.

Her voice was uncertain and low, but she sang the simple
ballad with a pathos, that brought the moisture to the eyes of
more than one of her auditors.

: 'Away with thoughts of sadness, love!

I will be gay to-night !
I would awhile indulge the hopes,

To-morrow's sun will blight.
Oh ! once again, our favorite song!,

Together let us sing ;
And thus forget the wailing strain
To-morrow's eve will bring.
Away with thoughts of sadness, lovo I
I must be gay to-night !

: ' Alas ! 'tis vain ! we who have loved

So long and well, must part !
The smile has faded from my cheek

The gladness from my heart.
And since at this, our sad farewell,
For months, perchance, for years,
We cannot join in blithesome lay,
Oh ! let us mingle tears !
Away with thoughts of gladness, love!
For I must weep to-night 1"

ALONE. 123

CHAPTER XI

"I'M very lonely now, Carry! and weary, and wakeful and
home-sick. You and your home have spoiled me ; my heart has
been enlarged, only to aggravate the old empty feeling; you
have disabled me for the life I must lead here. Discouraged
already !' I hear you say. ' Did you not promise to be good and
patient?' I am not like you, I cannot love, unless I am beloved;
and had I your warm, open heart, it would be but attempting to
heat Nova Zembla with a foot-stove. Hear, before you reproach.
Our journey was pleasant. The children behaved & merveille ;
your sister was as she always is tender and motherly, (you
know what that last means from me !) and the conduct of our
gallant outriders was above praise. Leaving Mrs. Dana at her
door, Lynn and Charley escorted me up-town. With their
'good nights/ and promises to see me again soon, connection
with Poplar-grove was severed. My former self I told you
how it would be ! was waiting for me inside the hall-door. I
was as little changed in the eyes of Mr. Read and his daughter,
as they were in mine. The first-named was upon his etiquette
stilts; and Josephine's fingers, as I touched them, were as limp
and warm as the digits of a frozen frog. (Vide Charley.) I
remembered you and my promise, and made a tremendous effort.
You are looking so well, that I will not inquire whether your
trip was as delightful as you anticipated ;' to the daughter.

" We spent our time agreeably;' dryly.

" Were the waters of Saratoga beneficial to you, sir ?' to the
father.

" 'My health required no improvement;' stiffly, and with a
smack of offended dignity. But this is wrong, Carry ! The air
of this house must warp my sense of right. While under their
roof, I should not ridicule them. There was pleasure in the sad-
ness of last night last night ! it seems a century since I There
is no bright thread in the sombre web I am weaving now ! I
look forward with a sinking spirit. This winter will bring me
trials which you may not appreciate. Josephine and myself

124 ALONE.

will ever remain antagonistic ; not that I am quarrelsome ; I
detest strife. I am sick of this eternal sparring and heart-
burning; but I am no dissembler; and I foresee many contests;
perhaps as many defeats, for cool audacity is more than a match
for hot blood like mine. Our characters will come into play
upon a wider stage than heretofore, and should we close in com-
bat there, the struggle will be fearful. I am willing, thanks
to you! to sacrifice prejudice, not principle or self-respect.
Three long, dreary months before I can hope to see you ! I
fear to think how wicked I may become in that time. Rich-
mond is, to me, a Sahara, whose single fountain of sweet waters
springs up within your sister's home. Those, who, within a few
months, were unknown, are nearer than acquaintances of years'
standing. Poor Rachel stands by, waiting to undress me, her
face as long as mine. Ah ! Miss Ida ! this ain't Dr. Carleton's !'
She does not realise how painfully conscious I am of that fact.
I can hardly say why I have written this incoherent note;
except, that I am dispirited, and thirst to talk to you. Forgive
my unhappy egotism ! I cannot ask you to respond to emotions
which never swell your gentle bosom. To your best of fathers,
present my warmest regards. I owe him a debt I cannot repay.
And to him, dear Carry, whose image blends with yours, in my
dreams of the future ; the only man I know, to whom I could
willingly resign you, give a sister's love. The strongest proof
of my affection is, that I am not jealous. Good night ! and a
blessing, my dearest ! If your rest will be the sweeter for know-
ing that to another, than him, you make life lovely, believe it !

As ever, yours,

IDA."

" I saw Mr. Lacy upon the street, to-day," remarked Mr.
Read, he next evening at supper.

"Ah!" said Josephine, delightedly. "Did you speak with
him?"

"Yes; he stopped me to apologise for having delayed calling
until this time. He is studying law with Mr. L. ; and has little
leisure for visiting so he says."

" Did you inquire after his sister's health ?"

" No. You had better do so, if he calls this evening. He
asked whether you would be at home."

ALONE. 125

Josephine coloured with pleasure ; and Ida was curious to see
one who had inspired them with such respect and admiration;
for through Mr. Read's assumed carelessness, it was easy to
discover that he was flattered by the promised visit. She
gathered from their conversation that they had met Mr. Lacy
at the Springs, whither he had gone with an invalid sister. As
Virginians, they attached themselves to the Read party, "the
party of the season/' so Josephine unblushingly asserted.

Too proud to go into the drawing-room, without an invitation,
Ida went to her chamber, to spend the hours between supper and
bed-time, in reading.

" Miss Josephine must 'spect her beau ; she's mightily fined
off," commented Rachel, when she came up from her meal. I
said so ! thar's the door-bell ! Ain't you going down, Miss
Ida?"

" No '" not withdrawing her eyes from her book.

"You aint a school-girl now, Miss Ida," Rachel remon-
strated.

Well and if I am not ?"

" "Why, young ladies ought to see company. I can't bear for
you to be hiding up here, just like you was an edict or performed ;
and Miss Josephine, who aint nigh so pretty, nor good, for that
matter, is stealing all the beaux."

" In other words, my good Rachel, you want me to get
married."

" Yes ma'am," said Rachel boldly ; If you come across any
body to suit you, I'd a heap rather you'd be his wife, than to
stay here to be pecked at and worried."

" I am not easily worried ; I am my own mistress, and
restrained by no one."

"Your own mistis', Miss Ida! Don't I see you sittin' at
table, and in the parlor, never opening your mouth to say
nothin' ; and aint you cooped up here in this chamber, because
Miss Josephine aint got politeness enough to ask you down ?
and after they've been making as much of you at Dr. Carleton's
as if you had been the Queen of Sheby ! Miss Carry is a lady
worth talking about, and so is Miss Jenny none of your turned
up nose, poor white folksy sort. I wish you could get into the
fani'ly," she added, slyly.

11*

126 ALONE.

Ida read on in silence.

" The bell agin !" muttered Rachel, fretfully. I don't know
what they're coming for. If they knowed as much as we ser-
vants, they'd as soon jam their fingers into a steel-trap. What
do you want ?" she said, snappishly to the footman who knocked
at the door.

" Two gentlemen to see Miss Ross Mr. Dana and Mr
Holmes."

" I'll tell her ;" she returned, greatly mollified. " Now, Miss
Ida, don't scare them off with no solemn looks and talk. Do
just like you did at Miss Carry's; and 'bove all things, don't
let Miss Josephine cut you out I"

We trust to the reader's good-nature to excuse the unfair use
which Rachel made of the back parlor window. The affection-
ate curiosity that prompted her to " peep at Miss Ida, as she
made her manners," was gratified by seeing her receive her visi-
tors with as mucli affability as if Carry, instead of Miss Read,
were present. As Rachel surmised, the latter had a beau; and
Ida's hasty survey excited a feeling of surprise. He looked and
moved the gentleman ; but although he arose with the others,
and remained standing, Josephine did not introduce him.

Charley's presence of mind prevented embarrassment.

" I beg pardon, Morton ; I thought you knew Miss Ross
Miss Ida, my friend, Mr. Lacy."

This assumption of the duties of host at a first call would have
been inexcusable in most cases. Josephine understood it, as it
was meant, as a severe rebuke for her negligence or ill-breeding.

The " my friend," too, nettled her. Mr. Lacy had presented
the gentlemen to her when they came in, and had spoken to
Charley as an old acquaintance, but what right had this stranger
to insinuate, that, as his friend, Ida had a title to her " pro-
perty ?" She almost forgave him, however, when she found that,
for the present, he was n&t disposed to push his advantage. He
left her to the most delightful tete-a-tete ; turned his back quite
upon her, and addressed himself to Ida. She would have
pocketed a dozen insults an evening to sit upon the same sofa with
Morton Lacy, to read devotion in his speaking eyes, and hear
love's music in every cadence of his voice. She was in Elysium
with but one drawback upon her felicity. The group across

ALONE. 127

the room were maliciously unobservant of the tableau her high-
born looking suitor, so lover-like as he bent his proud head to
catch the words that melted like honey-dew upon her lips; and
herself with falling lids, as though she feared he might see more
in the modest eyes than maiden coyness would have him know
they must notice them, and seeing, Ida must be expiring with
envy, and the gentlemen regret, while they envied, that they
were too late to compete for the prize. It is not often that the
truth is as sweet as the darling fictions we dream to ourselves,
and on this occasion, assuredly, the reality would have rendered
wormwood palatable in comparison ; for the trio of friends were
unaffectedly engrossed with each other, and stupidly ignorant ot
the duett played near them.

" Jenny sent her love to you," said Charley ; " she will call
shortly. She complains of being tired out with the labor of rec-
tifying the disorders of John's bachelor establishment. She
treated us, at tea, to a summary of his domestic economy.
Half of the time, he forgot to go to market, and wondered at
the want of variety in the fare. The cook was consulted, and
hinted at the cause. The ensuing day, he laid in provisions for
a week, particularly of such commodities as frugal housewives
do not care to have on hand in hot weather. He bought a pair
of parlor lamps. You wished to surprise me by this handsome
present, I suppose/ said Jenny.

" ' Why no I should not have purchased them if the old
ones had not been worn out/ said he.

" Worn out ! when we have not had them six months !'

" Yes !' answered he, positively. ' They would not burn
went out as fast as I lighted them ; and worse than that, the

new ones have got into the same way. I complained to W ,

and he said they were the best he had.'

" ' Very odd !' said Jenny, unscrewing one of the lamps.
Why, Mr. Dana ! there is no oil in it ! Have they been filled
regularly ?'

" Never thought of it once !' exclaimed John, foolishly.

" See how useless marrying makes a man !

"Bather, how comfortless he is without a wife/' responded
Ida. " As respects order and management in household mat-
ters, I have an idea that you bachelors are not much superior to
the Tartars."

128 ALONE.

" Say on a par with the Hottentots, and you will be nearer
the truth ;" said Lynn. " Nothing can be well-done that is
unnatural. Not one man in a hundred has a talent for house-
keeping; some acquire a smattering of the science, and make
themselves ridiculous by an offensive display of it. Their wives
should rig them in kitchen aprons, set them to rolling out pie-
crust, and officiate as their substitutes in the shop, office, or
counting-room. There is a loud hue and cry after ' strong-
minded women ;' who says any thing about weak-minded men?"

" You do not consider that the feebler intellect belongs of
necessity, to the feebler body, do you ?" asked Charley.

" Not I ! Do away with this absurd antipathy to clever
women; give them our advantages of education, and they will
outshine us mentally, as they do morally. The mind of a woman
is a wonderful thing; like the scimetar of Saladin, it cuts
through, at a single stroke what our clumsy blades have hacked
at in vain. Light, graceful, delicate it does not lack power
because it has beauty."

"It is very pleasant to listen to agreeable speeches, even
when we know them to be flattery," said Ida ; " I acquit you of
insincerity, Mr. Holmes I perceive that Mr. Dana sides with
you but permit me to say, that I know more of the mental
calibre of my sex than either of you. To a certain point, we
can rival you successfully like the hare and tortoise we run
well for a time, and laugh at your plodding ; but we have not
the taste or ability to bear you company to the^-goal. As well
compare the bounding flight of the lark to the heaven-ward sweep
of the eagle. We cannot reason we are persuaded because we
feel that a truth exists for our lives, we could not tell you why
we believe."

" And this is an argument to establish your inferiority !"
exclaimed Lynn. " Where is the- use of reasoning ? I would
trust a true woman's intuition in preference to all the systems
of logic and induction, the blundering, lumbering brain of man
has built. Do not depreciate this angelic faculty, Miss Ida ; you
hold it in common with higher intelligences."

" Yes ! I doubt if Gabriel bothers his head with syllogisms or
logarithms," said Charley. Two to one Miss Ida give up!"

Men are inconsistent creatures," said she. " They will have

ALONE. 129

it we are their superiors, exhaust dictionaries and their imagi-
nations to load us with exalted epithets; and behave, as though
we were children, to be coaxed with sugar-plums. An angel in
theory, the corporeal woman is soundly rated if dinner is late,
or a room unswept. We are * akin to higher intelligences/
but let one presume to measure lances with a lord of creation in
a conflict of minds, and how quickly is she assailed by the hoots
of her professed adorers ! You will allege that she has stepped
out of her sphere. Granted but according to your belief, she
has stooped to your level, and you should be grateful for the
grace. Is it so ? ' The ladith are divine, tho long ath they
don't meddle with thubjects above their comprehenthion / lisps
the dandy whose organs of speech serve to distinguish him from
a marmoset; and wise doctors of law and medicine and divinity,
read us homilies upon the modesty, the humility, the submis-
siveness of the softer sex, and recommend St. Paul to our dili-
gent perusal. We are not cherubim, nor yet slaves; not your
superiors ; and in mind are far from being your equals ; but we
do hold that we are, or ought to be qualified for your companions j
and that your happiness and ours would be enhanced if you
would throw sentimental nonsense overboard, and take this prac-
tical, every day view of the case."

" Let a lady alone for making her side good !" said Charley.
' W^'ll call it square, and quit which Lynn will inform you,
is a cowardly way of acknowledging ourselves beaten. I never
argued with one of you yet, that I was not glad to sneak off in
five minutes after the first broadside."

" Their right makes their might /' observed Lynn, gallantly.

(c And their invincible obstinacy/' returned Charley. " That
is not just the word it is a certain never-give-up-able-ness,
vexatiously delightful, which precipitates one into a rage and
love, at the same time he is divided between his disposition to
kneel to, and to shoot her !"

" Are you tempted to murder me ?" inquired Ida.

" Not at all. It is a peculiarity in the female disposition,
she can't help it to cry ' scissors' to the last."

I do not comprehend."

"Did you never hear the tailor's wife and scissors ?'"

A story of your own coinage ?" asked Lynn.

130 ALONE.

" No un authentic narrative. A tailor having amassed a
fortune by his trade, cut the shop and removed to the country,
to live in dignified leisure. His wife was a bit of a shrew, and
apt, as all wives are, to find out her husband's weak points.
One of these was a shame of his former occupation, and she
harped upon the jarring string, until the poor wretch was nearly
beside himself. Her touch-word, scissors/ spoiled his finest
bon mots, and embittered his grandest entertainment it was
flame to tow. He stormed and wheedled, threatened and bribed,,;
the obnoxious instrument was constantly brandished before his
eyes. They were walking, one day, on the bank of a river,
bounding his grounds, 1 1 have displayed extraordinary taste
in the selection of this estate/ remarked he, ' Its owner should
have judgment, as well as wealth. You observe the Delta formed
by the fork of the 'river. Its beauty decided me to close the
contract/

" Very probable, my dear, it reminds one so much of an
open pair of scissors !'

" One push and she was struggling in the water.

" I will pull you out, if you promise never to say that word
again !' halloed the still foaming husband.

" ' Scissors !' screeched she. and down she went.

" ' Scissors !' as she arose again. The third time, she came
to the surface, too far gone to speak but as the waters closed
over her, she threw up her arms, crossing her fore fingers thus
and disappeared."

Ida laughed her rich, musical laugh, which awoke strange
echoes in those formal rooms. Mr. Bead's portrait frowned down
from its niche, and Josephine raised her brows with an air of
astonishment, which would have been contempt, had she not
been upon the amiable at the time. Another started too, but
with a different expression. Few who saw Morton Lacy smile,
forgot it. It was not a superficial illumination, but a flashing
through of an inward light, as might play upon the surface of a
gem-bedded stream, could the sun strike upon its concealed
wealth.

" We seldom hear a sound like that, in this age of affectation /'
said he, to Josephine.

" She will learn better/' she replied. " She is just from her

ALONE. 131

books, and rather eccentric in some of her ways and notions. I
rally her daily upon her little oddities, but she is wilful, a?
spoiled children will be, and being older, and more clever than
myself, out-argues me. The main point of disagreement is that
she is fond of liberty of speech and action, declares Die Vernon
her beau ideal of a woman, and I am prudish in my reserve."

" Not prudish feminine I" he answered, emphatically. la
she a relative ?"

" No : a ward of my father's."

" An orphan !" with a remorseful pity, for which Josephine
could have blasted Ida as she sat.

" She does not feel her situation so keenly as a sensitive person
would. Those are happiest whose wounds heal soonest, to
whom a life-time grief is unknown. I am thankful that Ida's
temperament is mercurial she is spared much suffering ;" and
her voice trembled admirably, as she lifted her eyes to a portrait
above the mantel. Another adroit hit ! the base brought out
the ring of the genuine metal.

There are, indeed, losses, which, in an earthly sense, are
irreparable, and although I know nothing personally of such a
bereavement, I can understand that the shadow of a mother's
tonib grows darker and longer, as the child walks on in the path
her care would have smoothed."

" Especially to an orphaned girl; each day has wants and
exigencies she had not thought of before. Yet who knows the
pains of her lot ?" said Josephine, sighing.

" 'Few are the hearts whence one same touch,
Bids the sweet fountains flow !' "

repeated Mr. Lacy. " Have you learned that song, according

to promise ?"

" I always keep my promises."

" May I demand the proof that this one was remembered."

The piece in question lay suspiciously near the top of the

portfolio, although she protested that she had " only played it

over once, and a fortnight ago."

" It is set as a duett ; will not your friend sing with you ?"
" I don't know;" shaking her head, smilingly. She is chary

of her favors all good singers are. Perhaps she will not refuse

you-^ask her, please ! It will be such an improvement !"

182 ALONE.

Thus importuned, Mr. Lacy went up to Ida, and preferred his
request.

" Excuse me, sir, I am not familiar with the music ;" said
she, surprised that Josephine had despatched him upon such an
embassy, when her jealousy of Ida's superiority as a vocalist,
had been the cause of innumerable slights and petty meannesses
from herself and father.

" Now ! be obliging, Ida !" she interposed, " you sing at sight
better than I do, after a year's practising."

" I am sorry to appear disobliging, Mr. Lacy;" pursued Ida;
and she spoke sincerely, as she met his smile; "but you would
not thank me for ruining your song."

" Oh ! how can you say so !" exclaimed Josephine. " Mr.
Dermott called you a second Malibran ; or was it Sappho ?"

To Mr. Lacy, this was coaxingly playful ; but the fiery spot
came to Ida's cheek, at words, which had been piped over, and
distorted, until malice itself must be weary of repeating them.

" I beg you to consider my refusal as final and positive ;" she
said, haughtily. Mr. Lacy bowed, with dignity, and returned
to Josephine.

"Am I, also, to be refused?" asked Lynn, as Josephine
picked out a third song. " You will not suspect me of empty
compliments."

"Not for you, will I sing now and here!" said Ida. "Be
sure I have my reasons for objecting to give you pleasure."

" Be quiet, Lynn ! she means what she says ;" interrupted
Charley, as his friend persisted. Lynn obeyed, but his black
eyes went from the face of the speaker, to Ida's compressed lips,
until they darted an angry light upon Josephine, showing that
he had an inkling of the truth.

" This is the beginning!" said Ida, as she knelt at her window
to gain tranquillity from the cool and stillness of the night. The
moon neared the horizon ; the roof-tops contrasted brightly with
the shade of the street ; and one lofty spire pointed a snowy
finger upward, the golden trumpet upon its taper extremity
silvered by the pale rays. It was a " sweet south" that bore up
the lullaby our beautiful river sings nightly to her myriads of
sleeping children; but as the girl gazed and listened, inquietude,
instead of peace, had possession of her the nameless longing

ALONE. 133

that makes mortals weep and strive, and die ! that burning
craving for something they cannot, tell what except that
earth does not bestow it, and the spirit will not rest without it.
It may be, angel-teachers are with us, awakening a desire for,
rather than imparting knowledge, which is their food, and can
alone satisfy our immortal minds or our young souls are flut-
tering their unfledged wings, restless for the flight, instinct
tells them is before them we know not only that the thirst
is fierce maddening ! and there is but one fountain which
quenches it. The river's song should have summoned up the
vision of those living waters, and their wooing, " Let him that
is athirst come I" and the white spire had its silent gesture no
significance ?

Ida's thoughts did not rise. A painful truth had that night
obtruded itself upon her, that the love of those she esteemed
most, had not strengthened her to bear the trials incident to
her position. With Carry at her side, to defend and console,
many a shaft would have fallen harmless, perchance, unre-
marked; in her absence, the certainty of her affection did
not render Josephine's malevolence innocuous, or her society
endurable.

" I was not born for this life ! I do not breathe in the pent-
house in which they would immure my soul. I cannot escape !
I am virtually a prisoner in body and spirit with energies,
which must not act affections, which must not flow ! I thirst
for liberty and love !"

Lower and lower dipped the moon and higher mounted the
shade upon the steeple the golden trumpet was glistenless as
the rest, and the stars only kept guard over the slumbering city,
and the watcher knelt still dreaming now love-dreams of appre-
ciation and devotion trances, almost realities in their passionate
idealization \ and then, as they cloyed by their very sweetness
or the real and the present would burst upon her, crying in
anguished accents, I thirst 1"
12

134 ALONE.

CHAPTER XI].

JOSEPHINE READ gave a party her fir&t, and the first of
the season ; an onerous undertaking for a young, and compara-
tively inexperienced house-keeper ; but she went about it bravely
and confidently. She did not overrate her capacity ; if she had a
talent for anything, it was for housewifery "driving" included.
If her domestic machinery did not work well, it was not for lack
of scolding; and, it was rumored, not because more stringent
measures were not employed by her own fair hands.

" Miss Josephine flies about the kitchen like a pea 'pon a hot
shovel ;" said Rachel, the day before that for which the rest of
the week was made. " It's 'sprising how much spring she's got
in that little body of hern, and how much spite too, if you'll
'low me to say it, Miss Ida."

" I certainly shall not," said Ida, severely. " I do not care
to hear your remarks upon her now, or at any time. They are
neither respectful or becoming."

" Law ! Miss Ida ! you know Miss Josephine as well as I do ;
what harm does my talking do ? I was goin' to tell you, that I
thought I should a' died laughin' to see how mad she was, when
Joe dropped the big cake she sent to the confectionaries to have
iced. Her face turned red as them curtains, and soon as she
could move, she pulled off her shoe, and gave him such a lick
; pon the side of his head, I'll bound he seed stars !"

" Are your preparations concluded ?" asked Mr. Read, that
night.

" I believe so, sir."

" You believe so !' why can't you give a direct answer ? I
hate this mincing you women think so pretty. Are you ready I"

" The table is not set," said Josephine, provokingly, " and
the jellies and creams are not turned into the dishes yet."

What will this tomfoolery cost ?" barked her father.

I don't know, sir what other people's parties do."

You are wonderfully independent, young woman ! you intend
to foot the bills I hope."

ALONE. 135

No answer, except a bar of a popular air, hummed, while
trying on a head-dress.

" Whom have you invited ?"

" There is the list you can read it."

He looked at it surlily. " How many rooms do you open ?"

" The parlors and dining room ; unless you prefer to have
the dressing-rooms in the third story, and give up your chamber
to the dancers."

Have the goodness to leave me out of the scrape. I shall
go to bed directly after supper. You two may do your husband
hunting without my help. I pity the man who gets either of
you."

" Since you are so much opposed to this party, I will recall
my invitations to-morrow morning," retorted Josephine, irritated
by his peevish vulgarity, to take a high stand herself.

" You will not, Miss! Carry out what you have commenced
much joy may you have of it !"

What pleasure or benefit could arise from this snarling con-
tradiction, would have defied a wiser brain than Ida's to deter-
mine. She once imagined it a part of Mr. Read's schooling ;
that he sought to inure his pupil to the treatment she would
receive from the world ; but this impression was corrected by
observing that the effrontery he had taught her angered him
beyond measure, when exhibited towards himself. Variance
appeared to be necessary to their existence ; a safety-valve, foi
the ill humors they could not throw out upon others. It was a
curious fact that their going into company, at home or abroad,
was invaribly preceded by this moral phlebotomizing, and in
proportion to the extent of the depletion, was the subsequent
affability. It was therefore to be expected that they should
appear in the drawing-room on the evening of the party, looking
their best ; she, deferentially respectful to " Papa," and he,
marking " my daughter, sir's," motions with paternal pride. A
large party usually belongs to one of two classes the stiffly
regular, or the noisily irregular. At the former, there is con-
siderably less sociability and ease than is prevalent among a
corps of raw recruits upon parade, under the eye of a martinet
drilled serjeant. As many as can obtain seats, seize them; a
vacant chair is rushed for, as in the game of " budge-all," and

136 ALONE.

the hapless standers are awkwardly alive to the circumstance of
being, not men, but hands, legs and feet; white kid gloves are
at a premium, a bouquet is a godsend ; the pulling off and on
of the first, and the criticism of the latter, are engrossing subjects
of reflection and entertainment. There are knots of men in t;he
entry, and in the corners, and behind doors ; and rows of ladies
against the wall, and stretched out transversely and longitudinally
through the room. Supper over, watches are slyly consulted,
yawns dexterously swallowed, and presently the crowd is thinner,
though no one goes. Then come whispered adieux ; " so sorry
to quit your charming party at this early hour, but papa
charged me to be home by twelve, and he is so particular ;" and
" my dear Mrs. Heavyaslead, I must tear myself away mamma
was not well to-night ; I am quite uneasy about her ;" and
there are headaches and sideaches, and toothaches, until the
poor hostess wonders that she never suspected before what an
unhealthy circle of acquaintances she has.

At a gathering of the second class, everybody knows every-
body else, or gets acquainted off-hand, with or without an
introduction. The company are, to a man, in favor of a stand-
ing army. Except a small number of chairs, over which are
carefully trained the confirmed wall-flowers, seats are voted in
the way; each joke is capital; each laugh a scream. Girls
rattle and coquet, and gentlemen bow and flatter; you stumble
upon a flirtation at every step, and cannot tread upon a boot or
corn without cutting a gallant speech in the middle ; time pieces
are put back two or three hours, and ostentatiously showed
around, to prove that there is time enough yet." Morning
breaks, ere the revellers unwillingly depart, and Mr. and Mrs.
Cricketspry hear, for six months after, of the " splendid time we
had at your party."

Miss Read's soiree promised to be of the first-named order.
A large proportion of her guests were strangers to each other,
and she had not the tact to amalgamate the mixture. A hostess
must be impartial; the safest course is to ignore the object of
her preference, even at the risk of being misunderstood ; better
offend one, than an hundred. Josephine made no such heroic
sacrifice. She had invited Mr. Lacy ; the rest were there to
see, and they were not backward to discern this. She had twice

ALONE. 137

made the circuit of the rooms upon his arm, and stood for half
an hour between the folding-doors, in conversation, that, so far
as her efforts went, was confidential, when her father touched
her shoulder. " Are we to have no dancing, Josey ?"

"If my friends desire it certainly! Mr. Pemberton" as
that individual frisked by, "Do me the favor to act as master
of ceremonies, and form a set."

" With pleasure, Miss Josephine, provided I am honored by
your hand for the dance I mean j" tickled to excess by his
witty clause.

The hateful puppy ! but there was no retreat. Had Mr. Lacy
been out of earshot, she would have pleaded an engagement, so
certain was she that he would ask her, but she could not utter so
palpable a falsehood in his hearing. She did hope that he would
interfere, and with the inimitable self-possession which distin-
guished him, open an avenue of escape by implying, if not
asserting his right of priority ; but he was silent, and she yielded
an ungracious assent. Mr. Pemberton was a boasted adept in
the art of " cutting out" a system of counter-plotting, too well
understood to need explanation here ; and as he bustled around,
officious and fussy, he circulated, as the latest and best joke," an
account of his cunning in " heading off that chap, Lacy."

" Are you fond of this amusement?" inquired the latter of
Josephine.

" Passionately I" said she, brightening up at this, as she
thought, prefatory remark. The next was still more promising.

" You will not stop at a single set then ?"

" Oh, no ! I often keep the floor for hours. It is a health-
ful and innocent exercise. I had rather dance than spend the
evening in gossiping after the fashion of the strait-laced sort,
who are conscientiously opposed to ' wordly follies.' "

Mr. Lacy smiled, a little queerly. It was evident that he
agreed with her, in her estimate of these over-scrupulous wor-
thies. Still, the coveted request did not arrive, and she tossed
out a desperate feeler.

" You do not think it undignified to dance, do you ?"

" Perhaps if I were to state why I never participate in the
pastime you laud so warmly, you would accuse me of an unmanly
fondness for a dish of scandal."
12*

138 ALONE.

What did he say ? What did it mean ? His amusement
increased with her bewilderment, and before an explanation could
be asked or given, Mr. Pemberton took her hand.

Ida had, thus far, passed the dullest of dull evenings. Lynn
and Charley, who never let her suffer for attention when they
were by, had a business engagement which would detain them
until late ; it was even doubtful if they could come at all. She
talked at a moustached, be-whiskered, and be-imperialed youth
who solicited an introduction, because he had heard that she was
" smart," and hoped she could appreciate him ; his conversa-
tional talents compensating in quality for their deficiency in
quantity; anybody could talk, but who could dress, and stand,
and look as he did ? She tried to draw him out by encouraging
smiles, and well put queries he tugged at his waistcoat she
rallied him upon his abstraction he stroked his left whisker
she pretended offence at one of his milk-and-water responses he
performed the like kindly office to the right and she gave up
in despair.

Mr. De Langue was next. " He was " smart" himself, and
therefore could appreciate her, and to prove this, he rolled forth
volume after volume of French compliments, unanswerable,
because so highly polished that one could not, as it were, take
hold of them; edified her by disquisitions upon subjects of
which she was profoundly ignorant, and information respecting
others, of which she knew more than himself. After much
manoeuvring she sought refuge in a corner, fatigued, disgusted
and misanthropical. "I have thought that I might shine in
general company, where feeling never enters, and flaring flip-
pancy passes for wit; it seemed easy to manufacture small-talk,
but I was mistaken. This is ' rational recreation !' the pleasure
of mingling in the best society/ as Josephine says. I envy St.
Simon in his twenty years' solitude upon his stone pillar."

" Compton, my dear fellow, can you make room for me to
pass ?" said a voice near her. "If I were a lady, I would faint,
and let you extricate me, as I am not, I must fight my way
out."

The gentleman addressed exerted his powers of compression,
and Mr. Lacy edged by him. His course was towards the door,
but he stopped as he espied Ida " Miss Ross, have you a

ALONE. 139

welcome in your Retreat' for a storm-tossed wanderer? Your
quiet nook is most inviting."

Ida looked up mischievously. " I will not hinder your flight,
Mr. Lacy. Your envy of my corner is wasted upon one who
heard you singing a moment since, like the melancholy starling,
1 I can't get out ! I can't get out !' "

" I plead guilty but if a mightier temptation has mastered
my desire for liberty ? There are birds that will not fly after
the cage door is unfastened."

" They do not merit freedom," said she.

" Be it so this is my prison," rejoined the gentleman, seat-
ing himself upon an ottoman which Josephine, to get out of the
way, had wedged behind the door, thinking as she did so, that it
might prevent the pressure of the crowd from, breaking the
hinges, with not a presentiment that she was furnishing a hiding-
place for the last one of all the world whom she would have con-
cealed.

a Now," continued he, " as I can see but one, I recognise but
one jailor, and you will be merciful, remembering my voluntary
incarceration. And as a starting-point to the conversation, why
are you not in the other room ?"

" For the simple reason that no one has invited me to dance."

He looked surprised, yet pleased at her frankness. " You
would go, if you received an invitation ?"

That would depend upon circumstances. I should assuredly
decline one from you."

" And why ?"

' I would not accept of anything offered in obedience to what
the one who tendered it considered a hint. How I might act if
I were a devotee of Terpsichore, I do not know, but a conversa-
zione is more attractive to me than a ball."

" We shall not quarrel there, and it is well that we agree in
disagreeing with the general sentiment. Taught by the experi-
ence gained in our short acquaintance, I should prefer a petition
with a quaking heart."

" You need not apprehend a refusal, provided your demand is
reasonable and properly timed," answered Ida.

" Which of these provisoes was wan ting to ensure the success
of the suit you negatived, upon the evening of our introduction?"

140 ALONE.

" Both," she returned, laughing. " You insisted that 1
should sing, at sight, a song already dear to you, and I declined
to spoil the music, and wreck my musical reputation with a
stranger, from whose mind I might never have an opportunity
of removing the unfortunate opinion."

" In contrariety to these considerations, were the wish to
oblige me, and a dislike to wound the feelings of your friend,
Miss Josephine, and this scale kicked the beam ?" said Mr. Lacy,
interrogatively.

" No j Josephine was out of the question j she did not expect
me to comply. "We never sing together or very rarely. My
voice is not a contralto, nor does it accord with her's. You will
have to be content with my explanation ; I speak truth in the
smallest matters."

" The false in trifles are seldom reliable in things of greater
moment," replied the other. "There is less deliberate, mali-
cious falsehood in the world than we suppose. Men are oftener
liars from habit, than from necessity or temptation."

" But to this habit there must be a beginning. Is there no
sin in the earliest deviation from the right way ?"

" I did not say that there is not sin in every violation of truth.
Each one is a stain upon the soul blots, that too frequently
deface it forever; but I do not subscribe to the casuistry that
guages the guilt of a lie entirely by its effects upon others which
smiles upon, as a harmless simpleton, him who 'fibs' or 'yarns'
or 'embroiders' in cowardice or vanity, and empties the vials of
wrath upon the Pariah, who seeks, by one heaven-daring false-
hood, to save what he holds most dear. One destroys the mirrror
by gradually damaging its bright surface, the other shivers it at
one reckless blow."

" This has often struck me," said Ida. " It appears to me
that the slower process deadens the conscience most surely, and
the insensibility of those who practice it, betrays a more diseased
state of the moral system than the pangs of remorse."

"Undoubtedly; and this should make us doubly watchful
against any infringement of veracity. The straightest, the only
safe road is 'the truth the whole truth and nothing but the
truth.' "

"And who adheres to this rule?" asked Ida. "How much
truth, do you imagine, is being uttered now in these rooms ?"

ALONE. 141

"We are discoursing very philosophically, and will be chari-
table enough to believe that numerous couples are similarly
engaged."

" Do you recollect Talleyrand's definition of speech?" inquired
Ida.

" ' A faculty whereby we conceal our thoughts' yes a sen-
tence worthy of its author. What a life this would be if we
were all Talieyrands I"

" We are according to our capacities/' said Ida.

"A singular sentiment for one of your age and sex!" replied
Mr. Lacy, with a searching look. Has the world served you
so unkindly, that you condemn your kind without reservation ?"

" There was a mental reservation ; yet my observation was
true in a general sense. Men live for- themselves ; it is humi-
liating to see how this principle regulates feeling and action.
We love our friends because they are ours ; the pronoun ' my'
expresses a nearness and sweetness which causes us to idolize the
thing we appropriate; my own' is the most endearing of appel-
lations what is the delight it inspires, but the grossest vanity
and selfishness?"

" Pardon me, that I differ with you. Our love is won by the
qualities of its object; there would be no pleasure in appropria-
tion were not our affections enlisted ; no thrill of joy in identify-
ing with ourselves, the unknown or unlovely; if forced upon us,
dislike would ensue. We become attached to our dear ones for
their own sakes; although it cannot be denied, that a knowledge
of a reciprocation of affection is an auxiliary to the growth of
that fondness."

"And do you honestly credit the disinterestedness of human
nature ?"

" I do in many instances, and so do you. Look at the bene-
factors of mankind a Howard, preferring the noisome prison-cell
to competence and home ; a Wilberforce, spending and spent in
the great work ; the missionaries of the cross, at this moment
scattered in all lands, cut off from friends and civilization, without
prospect of emolument or renown ; forgotten, it may be, by all
but Him, in whose strength they labor; where is the self-interest
in this?"

" Your last is a puzzling case. The theory I have advanced,

142 ALONE.

perhaps too boldly, was not of my own choosing. I was com-
pelled to its adoption by evidence which seemed incontestable,
and I retain it because it solves more riddles in the complex
machinery of society than any other I have heard. But it has
its difficulties, and the main one is such conduct as you allude
to. There is a key to the enigma, I suppose, if I could only
find it."

"There is," said Mr. Lacy, feelingly. "There is a love which
purifies the rest, a peace we would have all men know. They
err, who say that devotion to God weans the heart from our
friends. Our Divine Master has left us a new commandment
'that we love one another/ and with the increase of our love for
Him, our souls enlarge, until the arms of brotherly kindness
embrace the universal family of mankind. There is no such
being as a selfish Christian."

Ida listened in amazement. This language was uncommon at
any time and place out of the pulpit, but from an elegant and
popular young man, it was novel in the extreme.

"I can hardly understand the workings of a principle, which
is itself a mystery," she said. "Time was when religion was a
household word to me, but exposure to adverse influences has
erased from my mind all knowledge of this kind, if I ever had
any understanding of its meaning."

" You have the instruction of the immortal spirit within you.
Is that satisfied with its fare ? Are you content with yourself
and your mode of life ?"

" Content I" The tone was a sufficient reply.

"Will you allow me to use the freedom of a friend, Miss Ross,
and show you that in neglecting this subject you shut your eyes
to the only true happiness? I know that the lot which appears
brightest is checkered with vicissitudes inward struggles, more
trying than many visible afflictions. Against these, neither the
spirits of youth nor the reasonings of philosophy can always pre-
vail. I know how the lip smiles and the heart bleeds, although
the anguish within does not drown the gay words upon the
tongue. We may we do conceal, but the sting rankles the
same. Our Father never designed that we should be happy
away from Him. These misgivings, this discontent with our-
selves, and pinings for something better and higher, are voices

ALONE. 143

beseeching us to partake of his love; they are the homesickness
of a child, who has strayed, and has forgotten in new scenes the
parent he has deserted, and the sight of a flower, a hreath of
warm air, a song he used to love, calls up the remembrance of
that father, and a gush of shame and longing he is too proud to
confess. Thus much all feel, but upon some fall heavier trials.
Earth has no cure for the woes which a residence here entails
upon us. Young as you are you may know this?"

" Is what I am saying disagreeable to you ?"

"No, sir; go on, if you please !"

"Then, if we are told of One, who cannot only comfort,
but convert distress into blessing; of whose loving protection
nothing can deprive us ; who will make this life tolerable nay,
pleasant, and assure us of an eternity of bliss to be shared with
Him, is it not the maddest folly to refuse the pledge He asks
in return a child's love and trust ?"

" I do not feel that I have acted thus I" said Ida, suddenly.
" My reason assents to what you have said, but my conscience
is dumb. The thought of a God Almighty and Holy over-
whelms me with awe sometimes -with terror. As Kuler and
Judge, I pay him homage, and obey, when I can, the letter of
His law ; but He does not care particularly for me one of
the most obscure of His countless subjects. I believe that He
is a tender Father to the favored ones who have tasted His
grace, and they ought to adore and love. I thank Him, from
afar off, for preservation not for creation and he does not call
me nearer. You think me very wicked, Mr. Lacy ; but as I
said, if I speak at all, I speak candidly."

"I like your truthfulness. You express what others secretly
feel ; this distant respect is the natural tone of an enlightened
mind, wedded to an unregenerate heart; and in your remarks,
I detect the bitterness which is its concomitant, amounting, in
some, to deadly enmity against their Maker and Redeemer.
Do you read the Bible may I ask ?"

" Yes occasionally."

" From what motive ?"

"I read it as a curiosity in literature but that is not the
principal reason"

144 ALONE.

" Excuse me, I had no right to put the question. I wished
to know if you had noticed one or two passages such as 'All
day long I have stretched forth my hands unto a disobedient and
gainsaying people.' ' When I called ye did not answer when
I spake, ye did not hear.' ' Israel ! thou hast destroyed thy-
self, but in me is thy hope !' There is scarcely a page which
does not bear some moving expostulation or entreaty ; and the
disciple who knew Him best, condenses in one celestial drop
the stream of revelation, ' GOD is LOVE !' Not a word of Power
or Justice ! We cannot exaggerate these attributes, but we
may dwell upon them, to the exclusion of His long-suffering
and loving kindness."

"You have a strange way of speaking of these matters;"
said Ida. " I am acquainted with a number of excellent Chris-
tians, who never refer to the name by which they are called,
but at long intervals, in set terms, and in a tone which frightens
the f sinners' to whom they address their exhortations. I have
been troubled whether to question their sincerity, or the Faith,
which they assert, controls them."

Doubt neither Ascribe their silence to diffidence, or a
fear of giving offence ; their unhappy manner, to ignorance of
the proper method of managing hearts. It is to be regretted
that the one Reality upon the globe should be banished from
familiar conversation. If a man is sleeping upon the sea-shore,
the big waves washing his pillow at each surge, am I censurable
if I end his happy slumbers? Or, to employ an illustration
which suits me better I have a dear friend, to whom you are a
stranger. With my esteem for you, will not my desire to bring
you together, grow stronger ? When I discover traits in you
which he would approve, will not I tell you of him, and use
every means to facilitate an acquaintance, so pleasant and profit-
able ? Especially, if a time is certainly coming, when you will
require his assistance ; an emergency is to overtake you, when
all help but his will be vain does it not become my imperative
duty to implore you to accept the friendship he stands ready to
bestow ?"

" Do not the Scriptures speak of the veil that is upon their
hearts ?" said Ida.

" Yes but it is the veil of unbelief. If we do not of our-

A L N E . 145

selves endeavour to tear it away, the light which streams upon
us, at its removal, may be too late. God does not need, but
He demands our co-operation in His schemes for our salvation.
There is our friend, Charley Dana ; he is late for a gentleman
of his punctual habits."

The conversation changed. Ida would gladly have heard
more of a topic, so unusual, and previously so unpleasing, but he
dropped it, and she did not oppose him. The manner, more
than the matter of his language, took her fancy. He did not
arrogate superiority of sense or goodness, and had none of the
stereotyped cant she dreaded; he did not preach, but talked,
easily and quietly; most of the time, with the smile she
thought so beautiful, and she observed his avoidance of " you"
and " I," substituting, when it could be done " we" and
' us," as if to lay a platform of perfect equality. If he had
intended to leave the room, when he fell in with her, he altered
his purpose. Charley and Lynn paid their respects, chatted
awhile, and went their ways; the former to dance and jest
with divers merry belles, who hailed his approach, a relief from
the very minor flats, upon which they had been playing, during
the tedious hours in the halls, which were not " halls of mirth."
Lynn sought Ellen Morris ; and if Ida had seen the scarlet stain
that suffused her cheeks, as she perceived him, she would have
had " confirmation strong" of a suspicion entertained from the
first time she had beheld them together. Mr. Lacy withstood his
jailor's offers of liberation. "If she were inclined to change
her place, or to promenade, he was at her service, but no altera-
tion could better his condition ;" and Ida's fears of detaining
him, being dissipated by this straight-forward avowal, she
abandoned herself to the enjoyment of communion with a noble
intellect and finely-attuned spirit. The announcement of supper,
the tocsin of liberty to a majority of -the company, interrupted
their lively dialogue.

Long before this, Josephine's eyes had raked the parlours from
wall to wall, and she was fully satisfied, or ^'s-satisfied that her
polar star was missing.

In the sickness of the disappointment, she hated the show of
pleasure going on about her : the most fagged-out of the chape-
ron wall-flowers did not wish for the hour of separation more

1O

146 ALONE.

ardently than did she. There was one streak of light upon the
cloud ; no society could recompense him for parting with hers,
and he had departed in consequence : but she could have bitten
her tongue off, as she deplored her injudicious declaration
(untrue too !) of devotion to an amusement, for which she cared
nothing. "Was ever girl so impolitic ? What if he were him-
self one of this " religious sort ?" the bare supposition was
distracting ! she had committed the unpardonable sin !

" What have you done with Mr. Lacy ?" queried one and
another, and a ready untruth answered, " He had an engage-
ment, which obliged him to go early." Charley overheard one
repetition of this excuse ; but although his eyes wandered, with
a comical roll, towards the retreat of the recusant, he kept his
own counsel. By supper-time, she was so convinced of the
truth of her fabrication, that she neglected to institute a search
which would have showed her Mr. Lacy and Ida, at the farthest
end of the table. Twice again, she could have been blessed by
a sight of him. Charley having invited Ida to a promenade in
the hall, Mr. Lacy bethought him of his fair and partial hostess ;
but she was not to be found. She was lying upon the bed in
her chamber, fretting over her "foolishness," and the "stupidity
and worry" of all parties, hers in particular. Smoothing her
face and ringlets, she regained the parlor by one door, as Morton
left it by another. He encountered Ida and Charley, and
walked with them until the carriages came to the door. Jose-
phine accompanied several of her most fashionable guests to
the dressing-room ; and Mr. Lacy, seeing there was no one to
receive his conge", made none.

The day after ! Mr. Head was growling and headachy; Jose-
phine in her worst humor, and itching to vent it. The breakfast
hour was enlivened by a continual peppering of small shot from
her, varied by a big gun from her father. He sneered at her
arrangements and company, saying much that was cuttingly
true, more, really, than he was aware of; and she pecked at him
and the servants. In spite of her dislike, Ida pitied her, as she
surveyed the heaps of unwashed dishes and glasses ; the carpets,
spotted with wine, cake and jelly trampled into their velvet ;
and the forlorn disorder that reigned over all. She was on the
point of offering her assistance, when Josephine brushed by her,

ALONE. 117

with a peremptory order to " folks who were cluttering up the
room, to be off, if they did not mean to work I" Herself, the
cat and the footman, who was collecting the remains of the feast,
comprising the auditory, Ida thought herself justifiable in taking
a share of the hint.

She sent Eachel down in her place, enjoining upon her, as a
prudential measure, not to speak, unless when asked a direct
question.

As to Ida, the close of her evening had more than compensated
for the ennui of the beginning ; she had no foiled stratagems, no
tangled snares to lament; yet the dissipation produced a 'nervous
languor, tempting, yet dissuading her from action. She read
and the letters danced cotillions and waltzes over the page. The
piano was in the parlor but so was Josephine. She essayed to
sew, and stitched up a seam wrong side out, and ran the point
of the needle under her finger nail.

" I must walk I have it ! Mrs. Dana will like to hear about
the party, and there is Elle's doll's hat."

Her gloves were in a bureau drawer, and near them lay a
velvet case, enclosing the miniature of her parents excellent
likenesses, but owing to some oversight in mixing, or in the
quality of the colors, they were fading already. She had signi-
fied to Mr. Read her intention to have them copied, before they
should be so much defaced as to render it impracticable ; why
not give them to Lynn ? His ability was uncontrovertible it
would be a kindness to him now, in the outset of his professional
career ; and she had the vanity to believe that he would bestow
double pains upon what she so valued. She would carry them
to Mrs. Dana, and ask her advice.

That lady was in her nursery, which was one of Ida's accus-
tomed haunts. She was at home at once ; tossing the babe, and
joining her voice to its chuckling laugh, until the room rang
again ; Charley hanging upon her dress to entreat her praises of
his hobby-horse ; and Elle waiting patiently to kiss her for the
" sweet bonnet that just fitted Dolly."

" You have come to stay a good long time with me, I know,"
said. Mrs. Dana. " Here is a note I was about to send to you,
requesting the pleasure of your company to dinner. I thought
you had rather be out of the way while Miss Josephine is ( clean-

148 ALONE.

ing up,' and to be candid, Mr. Dana has invited two or three
gentlemen to dine with us, and I am too bashful to face them
unsupported. I did not write this, lest you should have scruples
on the subject, but you must stay for my sake and John's. He
made it a point that you should be asked. Do you know I am
getting jealous ?"

" But indeed, my dear madam"

" But indeed, my dear miss, you will remove your bonnet
immediately."

Resistance was useless; nor would Ida have offered it, had
she been sure of meeting only the family; for the sun shone
more brightly into this home-nest of cheerful peace, than into the
abode she had lately quitted. The Danas knew enough of Mr.
Read and Josephine, to make them solicitous to withdraw Ida
as much from their influence as was consistent with her duty as
a ward. She never complained, except to Carry, but they
respected her the more for her prudence.

" You will spoil me," said she, as Mrs. Dana untied her
bonnet

" No danger," replied the lady, kissing her forehead Carry's
caress and as other lips did, years ago. Tears stood in the
orphan's eyes, but they did not fall. Elle wondered why cousin
Ida could not see her doll's cloak without holding her head &-
near to it.

Mrs. Dana approved entirely of her project.

" Will you take them to him this morning?" inquired she.

I certainly had such a notion, but I do not like to go without
you, and as you are expecting company"

" No time like the present, my dear. My dinner is in the
hands of the cook ; I shall not be wanted here for two hours. It
is a lovely day, and I am glad of an errand that affords an excuse
to go out."

As they were passing " Dana & Co.'s" she halted.

tf Had we not better ask Mr. Dana to pilot us ? I am uncer-
tain of the exact locality of this same studio."

Mr. Dana could not go ; he was waiting upon a country cus-
tomer with a memorandum as long as his arm ; but he conducted
the ladies into the counting-room. Charley was there, at a tall
desk, buried in ledgers and filed bills ; and so business-like, that

ALONE. 149

Ida hung back upon the threshold a fear, of which she was
ashamed, as he extended both hands to her, thanked them for
their visit, and offered to escort them. He unlocked his bache-
lor's pantry of crackers, cheese and choice Madeira, hospitality
which they civilly declined. Mr. Dana left the counter "to hope
that he should see Miss Ida at dinner ;" a courtesy which was a
a sign of esteem and favor from one of his reticent disposition.

Lynn's studio was a small, but exquisitely appointed room.
It was a minute before the eyes, used to the out-door light, could
penetrate the claro-obscuro of its twilight.

Ida knew Lynn by his voice, and pressure of her hand, then
a tarller figure was developed to her vision, and she recognised
Mr. Lacy.

"Are you engaged, Mr. Holmes?" asked Mrs. Dana.

"No, madam; Mr. Lacy has just concluded a sitting the
last. Your coming is opportune, you can criticise his portrait."

The voice was unanimous. It was a masterly painting, and
faithful to life.

" A personable individual too, Morton considering " said
Charley. "Did .you have it painted for a sign-board ? " Morton
Lacy, attorney at law, For recommendations, see heading of
this article.' What a multitude of lady-clients you would
have 1"

" It is for a lady who will not part with it, even to procure
me a press of clients for my mother," returned Mr. Lacy.
" She will feel herself to be under great obligations to you, Mr.
Holmes, for so truthful a transcript of her absent boy.' "

Ida looked at the original instead of the picture. It was, then,
the handsomer of the two. With a complimentary observation
of the workmanship, he dismissed the subject, and directed Ida
to a genuine Claude, Lynn's pride and boast. She slipped her
case into Mrs. Dana's hand, and followed him. Lynn presently
approached.

" It would be an idle form to say that I am honoured by your
application," said he. " Your heart will tell you how I esteem
this proof of your friendship. It is a sacred trust, and as such
I will fulfil it."

" I feared you would discourage me," replied Ida. " Is it not
difficult to take a picture, the size of life, from a miniature ?' ;

150 ALONE.

" It requires care, and a just regard to proportions; but I have
an assurance of success in my willingness to attempt the work.
I hope I know I shall not fail. Now, what shall I do to enter-
tain you ? I am so unused to morning calls from ladies and
such ladies ! that I am at a loss how to bear my honors."

" Where are those long-promised portfolios ? n said Ida. " W
could not desire a more acceptable treat."

The hour consumed in the examination of the artist's pictured
treasures, was, to Ida, one of unalloyed delight. There might
yet be diamonds in the pebbly sands of Richmond. Coke
loomed up threateningly before Mr. Lacy ; and Charley and
Mrs. Dana felt some conscience-prickings, at the thought of Day-
books and desserts ; but they did not offer to stir until Lynn
affirmed that he had nothing more to show.

" There are good points in this working-day life of ours, are
there not ?" said Charley, as they went down the steps.

"Just my sentiments!" answered Mr. Lacy. "Yet Mr.
Holmes is a dangerous citizen. He has beguiled an unsuspecting
youth out of two hours of study. This is my apology for leaving
pleasant company ; it is a consolation to a benevolent-minded
person like myself, to know that I, and not they, will suffer from
the separation. Adieu I"

"'Till dinner-time," said Mrs. Dana.

Mr. Dana convened a circle of friends to meet a young
Northerner, the bearer of an introductory letter from his New
York partner ; and it was apparent that his ideas of the boun-
daries of civilization North by Cape Cod South by Sandy
Hook' were seriously shaken by this peep at Virginia life.
Mrs. Dana was, Charley maintained, a star housekeeper' ; and
her laurels did not wilt to-day. A perfect understanding existed
between her and her head-waiter, Uncle Abraham/ She did
not issue an order ; and in emulation of her quiet manner, his
instructions to his satellites were inaudible to the guests. Mr.
Lacy, Lynn, Mr. Brigham, (the stranger,) Mr. Villet, a French
gentleman, whose amiability and politeness would have been his
passport in any kingdom and clime, Mr. Thornton, recently
admitted to the bar, and a fair sample of the educated South-
erner ; with the two Danas, and the ladies, made up the company.

Mr. Thornton sat by Ida; Mr. Lacy opposite. His quick

ALONE. 151

look of pleasure, as lie was shown his place, indicated his satis-
faction ; and although he did not interfere with her brilliant
neighbor by addressing her in words, he did so frequently by his
eje and smile. The conversation streamed on in a glittering
tide ; Mr. Thornton, always ready with fun or sense, and
Charley, whose creed interdicted flagging chit-chat leading
then Lynn, warming, dashed in ; pursued, very cautiously, by
Mr. Brigham. Mr. Villet cheered them on by his gusto of
every repartee; and John Dana set his seal of confirmation
upon each profound remark. Mr. Lacy said comparatively
little ; he seemed to prefer looking on ; but his intelligent couute*
nance spoke so eloquently for him, that his silence did not
obstruct the hilarious current. There was another listener, who
entered heartily into the spirit of the hour ; never imagining
that the speakers gathered animation from her beaming face.
She was oblivious of the fact of her bodily presence, until
brought to the knowledge by the host's,

t( Mr. Lacy, Miss Ross will take a glass of wine with you."

Mr. Lacy spoke a word to the servant who stood prepared to
fill his glass; and bowing with graceful composure to his
vis-a-vis

" Miss Ross will not forbid my pledging her health and
happiness in a purer draught," he said, and raised a tumbler of
water to his lips.

Temperance societies were not much in vogue in those days ;
and were not in such odor as now; and this movement
astounded all present. Mr. Thornton, who had the common
infirmity of wits, who have not learned the inadequacy of this
one talent, rare 'though it be, to supply the loss of every-
thing else: and whose greatest fault was, that he ran his
trenchant blade as often into the breast of a friend, as foe,
assailed his professional brother on the spot. He was parried
with immovable good humour ; and the others came to his aid ;
some with arguments, some with questions. Even Mr. Villet
could not refrain from a cut of polite ridicule. The assailed
maintained his ground manfully ; neither staggered nor dis-
mayed by the odds against him. He knew every foot of the
field, having fought upon it more times than any of them.
Charley laid down his arms first silenced if not convinced'

152 ALONE.

ho owned; Mr. Thornton was 'floored' by a thrust equal to his
last blow; the fate of the battle was to be determined by single
combat ; Lynn being unvanquished. He was an expert fencer ;
and changing his tactics, stood upon the defensive. Once and
again, was he forced into a corner, from which retreat appeared
impossible ; and as often was he seen the next moment, fighting
in the open plain, with unbattered crest. His opponent pro-
posed a suspension of hostilities, but the auditors vetoed it
peremptorily. They were alike amused and interested; and
Mr. Lacy observed, with a smile, that the ruby poison, the
engenderer of the strife, was untouched during the discussion.
Mrs. Dana made a feint of withdrawal, and was solicited to
remain, to be in at the death/ Charley said. He had a double
motive in supporting the request ; he foresaw defeat for Lynn ;
and although the admirable temper of the argument was likely
to continue to the end, he judged it best to keep his gallantry in
play, as a balance-wheel to his impetuosity. The event did not
disappoint his expectation. Lynn was game to the last, but
surrender or not, he was indubitably beaten. Mr. Lacy covered
his enemy's rout by a flattering tribute to his argumentative
abilities, and the two laughingly shook hands, as they arose
from the board.

In the parlor, their undisputed court, the ladies received
the attention which had been diverted from them by the wordy
war.

" To show that I bear no malice for old scores, I repeat the
petition that met with so obstinate a refusal," said Mr. Lacy,

giving Ida his arm. " Will you sing for me ?"
"' Say, what shall my song be to-night,

And the strain at your bidding shall flow,'"

she replied, running her fingers over the keys.

" That I leave to you. I do not know what suits your voice
or taste."

1 ' The Last Rose of Summer/ " prompted Charley ; " after-
wards, the 'Captive Knight.'"

Mr. Lacy laughed; supposing he intended a satire upon tho
" miscellaneous" songsters, he had also thought of, when ho
objected to making a selection ; and Ida, slightly piqued at his
want of confidence in her powers of vocalization, sang both with

ALONE. 153

inimitable skill and expression. The gentlemen pressed around
to ask, each, for his favorite song. She complied readily and
patiently. The natural compass and strength of her voice had
been increased by diligent practice, yet music was with her, more
a passion than an art ; her songs, spirit-utterances instead of the
compositions of others, learned by rote.

" She is actually beautiful I" said Mr. Dana, aside to his
brother.

" Something above the order of puppets, nicknamed young
ladies, with which people ornament their parlors now-a-days,"
was the reply.

Removed from the gnome-like regards of Josephine, she was,
indeed, a different being. The presence of this girl was a mental
extinguisher smothering the flame of feeling in fetid smoke
the kindliness of the Danas, the generous oil feeding the exhausted
lamp. Years afterwards, when the purple flush had faded from
life's morning, the scene preceding her departure upon this even-
ing, would recur, as one of the proudest and happiest moments of
her existence John Dana, standing in front of her, his grave
features relaxed into a smile of fatherly fondness, as he heard
. her defence of herself against an accusation of Mr. Thornton's
Mrs. Dana, her hand upon her husband's shoulder, listening and
enjoying Charley and Lynn, her allies and counsellors, waiting
to add their testimony Mr. Lacy sitting beside her, and drink-
ing in her words with an avidity that brought the blood tingling
to her cheeks, and excited the meaning smiles of the spectators.
She was in her proper sphere : the centre and idol of a home-
circle. The praises lavished upon her were honestly won too
much would have satiated, not spoiled the utter absence of
reward soured her.

" I have had a happy, happy day, dear Mrs. Dana !" whispered
she, at going. " I shall write to Carry to-morrow, to apprise
ner how well you fill her place."

Mr. Lacy attended her home. Curiosity had set for him the
study of her character. Her mien bespoke no ordinary soul ;
and the inuendoes of Josephine, meant to deter him from pro-
secuting it, stimulated his desire. They had been together
repeatedly, previous to the party, but always in the company ot
the Extinguisher. Her arch glance and rejoinder to his thought-

154 ALONE.

less remark, while recalling Josephine's insinuation of her hoy-
denish propensities, nevertheless fascinated him. From being
amused, he grew interested ; he was working a mine of thought,
and unless the clue was false, there was a substratum of feeling.
The friendship of the Danas convinced him that the heart was
warm and true. He saw the frank girl amidst the friends in the
studio, and the accomplished woman in the coterie of the evening;
and could not say which was most attractive. " So much intel-
ligence and so little affectation are seldom seen in the same
person ;" he meditated. " She has the materials for a noble
character." Did he think to mould it !

CHAPTEE XIII.

OUR youthful debutantes were plunged into the maelstrSnrof
a fashionable season ; a whirl which, in its outermost circles, was
as gratifying to the feverish energy of Ida as to the vanity of
her more grovelling-minded associate. The rapidly shortening
days seemed longer instead, so uneventful and wearisome were
they. Life commenced when the evening's thousand lamps were
lit. The mingling perfumes ; the crush and flutter ; the wave-
like roar of the assembly-room, were delicious excitement to the
emancipated school-girl ; and to the astonishment of those who
had known her then, the reserved student bloomed into the
dashing wit and belle ; beauties and hfeiresses sitting, uncourted
by, while " eligibles" contended for the honor of her preference.
Her newness was a part of the secret. The spectacle of a wild
Zingara, unreined, and glorying in the fullness of its freedom,
scorning bit and spur, amongst a pack of jaded hackneys, who
have been trotted and paced and galloped, year after year, until
their factitious animation and oft-repeated gambols create pity
and contempt, would cause a sensation akin to that awakened by
her appearance. Her lightest words were jeux d'esprit; her
laugh, a chime of silver wedding-bells; (things by the way, of
which every body talks, but nobody we have questioned, ever
heard,) her singing seraphic; her ballads lyric gems; herself a
Oorinne. Josephine was latest to perceive, first to resent this

ALONE. 155

sudden accession of popularity. Rivalry from this source was as
unexpected as unbearable. Her glass showed her a form, airy
as a summer cloud ; a set of features more delicate and regular
than Ida's characteristic physiognomy ; and in dress, she certainly
bore off the palm ; her maid being invariably rung up an hour
and a half before Rachel's services were demanded. She fought,
as long as she could, with the conviction that this pre-eminence
was as though it had not been to the world ; and when it made
a violent entrance into her circumscribed .intellect, how was the
milk of her nature curdled to vinegar ! And how like nitre to
vinegar, were the happily -chosen congratulations of her attendant
beaux, upon her good fortune in inhabiting the same house with
"her charming friend, Miss Ross;" or, "Miss Ida even surpasses
herself to-night;" "A remarkable girl! such vivacity! and I
hear, quite as much profundity of mind ; is this so, Miss Read ?"
And the writhing dissembler had to assent, and corroborate, and
smile, while the yeasty waves frothed and bubbled furiously in
their confinement. To expose her envy would damage her pros-
pects, hinged as they were, in part, upon her sweetness of dispo-
sition.

It might have been a salvo to her wounded vanity had she
guessed by what a length of time her jealousy outlived the tri-
umph which aroused it ; how the feast of adulation, so daintily
spread, ceased to tempt,- then nauseated ; how, from the jewelled
robe of society the gloss wore away, and threadbare tatters were
all that remained of what was cloth of gold ; how prevarications
and oaths refused longer to shelter falsehood; and the garlands
withered and shrank from manacles which heated with the wear-
ing ; how the earth itself was a thin, hollow ball, that one could
puff away with a breath ; how, ere the fire the revel had infused
into her veins cooled, the coronal was plucked from the brow,
the costly attire crushed petulantly, a worthless rag ! And at
that window, the freezing air not chilling her heated blood the
envied one wept blistering tears of self-abhorrence and despon-
dency and the night-wind sighed to the moan "Not this!
not this I" and the old prayer for " liberty and love !" We say,
had she known this, she might have felt avenged ; but the public,
nor she, saw any alteration in its fondling and her detestation.
It was the middle of December. Balls, concerts, and soirees had

156 ALONE.

been given in breathless succession, and Ellen Morris issued
tickets for yet another. The appointed hour saw the house over-
flowing. Ida was near the centre of the front parlor, radiant and
flattered as usual. One gentleman, with an air of easy assur-
ance, was inspecting her bouquet; a second, pushing a mock
flirtation with all his might ; a third, a callow youngster, afraid
to speak to the " bright particular," he had so panted to behold,
staring into her face in sheepish agony; and a fourth peered
over the shoulder of number one.

"The camelia, Miss Ida, what is its emblem?" asked the
bouquet holder.

" Beauty without wit;" rejoined she, but half hearing him,
and then finishing a sentence to No. 2.

" Without amiability, you mean," corrected No. 4.

" Without wit I" said Ida. " I relish an active perfume,
which can be detected without effort of mine, and do not prize a
flower that must be bruised to extract its sweetness ; amiability
is, at best, a passive virtue."

" But what is a beautiful woman without softness, tenderness,
effeminacy ?" said No. 2, whose stock of words exceeded that of
ideas. " She wins us by her yielding submissiveness, her gentle
mildness. Destitute and devoid of these, she is to me without
charm or attraction. Do not understand me, however, as depre-
ciating or undervaluing wit in your presence !" recollecting him-
self, with a salaam.

" No apologies are necessary. We all agree that such depre-
ciation would come with a bad grace from Mr. Talbot," said Ida,
pointedly, returning a still deeper curtsey.

No. 1 nodded, as he laughed, to some one beside her. " Good
evening," said Mr. Lacy, as she looked around.

" And he has overheard this nonsensical stuff !" thought she,
with inward disturbance. "When did you come in?" she
inquired.

" About ten minutes since ; most of which time has been
spent in a search for Mrs. or Miss Morris."
. " I am glad to hear it."

G-lad how ?"

" I feared you had occupied your present position some time."

He understood her.- "There are more people here than I
expected to see," he said, after some general conversation.

ALONE. 157

"Almost too many," replied Ida; "I am getting tired of
these great parties."

" The heat is oppressive. Have you a liking for this stand ?"

ND my being here is accidental. It requires some effort to
stand, or walk upright, in the heart of this crowd."

" I noticed, as I came through, that the music room was more
thinly populated will you rest there ?"

This was a mere boudoir compared with others of the suite,
and the prepossessions of the company were for music of a differ-
ent kind. The violin was discoursing its enchanting strains in
the farther apartment, and there were not above a dozen persons
in the one, where slumbered the piano and guitar.

"Are you indisposed, Miss Ross?" asked Mr. Brigham, who
was fanning a fragile-looking girl, reclining in an easy chair.

" No only tired. You have acted wisely in shunning the
press and bustle, Miss Moore. I am happy to see you able to
venture out in the evening."

" Your climate is doing wonderful things for me/' answered
Miss Moore, smiling.

" How dreadful to be deprived of health, and the hope of a
long life !" said Ida, when they were seated.

" And especially mournful in this instance, if I am not
deceived !" replied Mr. Lacy. " I pity that man ! he will not
believe that bereavement is inevitable; and if death was ever
branded upon human brow, it is upon hers."

"I honor his constancy and devotion," said Ida. "The
object of his visit in the fall, was to acquaint himself with
the advantages our city possesses for invalids; then he went
back for her mother and herself. He is both brother and lover.
Who would have expected this from a man of his phlegmatic
constitution ?"

" Another warning of the folly of judging by appearances.
It is possible, too, that we who are pitying her are as much in
want of compassion. The highest happiness is unaffected by
extraneous influences."

" Happiness !" echoed Ida. " It is a myth."

" So says the sage of eighteen gay, gifted and caressed 1
You will not entrap me into a sermon ;" said Mr. Lacy, spor-
tively. " No ! no ! Miss Ida ! you will regard me as a lineal
14

l- r ' ALONE.

descendant of Bunyan's Mr. Law a Giant Grim, who frequents
places of amusement to corner children, and relate scary stories
to them."

" A monster who does not exhibit himself often ;" returned
Ida. " This is but the second large party at which I have seen
you. Are you principled against them ?"

" No, and yes. I do not disapprove of social pleasures. They
make light, yet firm, the bands that cement our species. Their
suppression would convert the most benevolent into a morose
eremite ; but I do see incipient evil in the frequency of these
scenes. Setting aside the waste of time, which may belong to
matters of importance, sooner or later they produce a disrelish
for domestic duties, and an enervation, physical and mental, like
the languorous sobriety of a toper. There is nothing nourishing
to the immortal mind, in a ceaseless round of gaiety."

" How do you know, by personal experience ?"

" Even so. I once drank pretty deeply of Pleasure's cup
did not drain it to the lees but drew off the clear wine, and was
beginning to taste the bitter, before I would let go. I was in
Mr. Holmes' studio, yesterday, and missed your portraits. You
have them ?"

" I have."

" Are you pleased ?"

"Entirely. I do not remember my father, but Mr. Read
says the likeness is good. The other could not be improved."

" Mr. Holmes is a painter of exalted abilities, and an enthu-
siast in his art. I did not know him well until our passage at
arms "at Mr. Dana's, the day we dined there. We have been
friends ever since. My sister writes that his portrait of myself
is a solace in the loneliness of her sick chamber. She has the
kindest of mothers and friends, but there are times when they
are unavoidably absent, and she is childish enough to talk to the
dumb semblance of one who is not worthy of her love, and
Imagine that it looks back its answers."

" Have you but one sister ?"

" But one at home three are married. Annie seems nearer
to me; she is next me in age, and until a year ago was my
inseparable companion."

His eye rested upon Miss Moore. " We were speaking of

ALONE.

happiness in affliction. If skeptical on this head, you should
know her. She is never free from pain and never impatient ;
her sunny, loving temper, makes her room the resort of the
neighborhood but this does not interest you."

" Not interest me !" said Ida, reproachfully. " Do you then
think me the heartless creature I appear? I am not wholly
absorbed in self. We have never conversed as strangers; do
not let us retrograde now. True, I have no sister, but I have a
friend who is more to me, so I may listen."

" Thank you," said he sincerely. " I have feared you might
deem my informal address presumptuous ; but I seem to have
known you for years, not months. I cannot wear my company
manners when talking to you."

" Perhaps we have met before, in an anterior state of exist-
ence," replied Ida; "and lurking memories of introductions,
and compliments, and staid courtesies, render these preliminaries
odious now. I could be sure, sometimes, that my spirit had
lived in this world before it tenanted its present body."

" These are fascinating, yet dangerous speculations," he
answered. " I am tormented by them myself, but I shun
them as unprofitable."

' Why so ? The soul, as our nobler part, merits most study;
its mysteries are yet undiscovered. What a field expands to
our contemplation ! over which the mind may rove and exult
for ages, and leave unimpoverished. I would not barter one
hour of such thoughts chimerical though they may be for
ten years of this vapid, surface life. I had rather dive into the
ocean, to bring up nothing but valueless shells, than drift, like
dead sea-weed, upon the top of the sleepy waves."

" May I describe another mode of life and action ?"

" Certainly so you do not laugh at me."

" Do you apprehend that I shall ?" fixing his clear eye upon
hers. " I would remind you of the humble mariner, steering
his vessel boldly, but carefully, through the waters, thankful in
sunshine, courageous in tempest, with one port in view, rowing
past the Fairy islands that stud the deep; keeping a straight
path in a trackless waste, for he looks to the eternal heavens for
guidance."

I must sport among the is.ets," said Ida. " You do not

160 ALONE.

quite comprehend me, Mr. Lacy. I have told you more than
once that life has thus far been a disappointment to me, but it
is not that I have sucked the orange dry, and would cast the
tasteless pulp away. Mine has been so acid I must hope that
time and the sun of prosperity will ripen it to lusciousness.
Others tell of unknown depths of happiness I have capacity to
enjoy am I unreasonable in trusting that my turn will come?
Have I tasted all of earth's delights at eighteen ?"

" Could you quaff them at one draught, your thirst would not
be appeased. You are no nearer to contentment now than you
were three years since. The drink-offering of popular award is
growing dull and stale ; you sigh at what would have chased
gloom a month ago, and this is the hey-day of pleasure. Nay,"
continued he, dropping his earnest tone, and bending to look
into her face, " I shall not forgive myself if I mar your even-
ing's entertainment by my croaking. Messrs. Talbot & Co.'s
anathemas against my impertinent monopoly do not occasion
me a hundredth part of the disquiet your very sober face does.
Mr. Thornton is coming to ask you to dance. Will you go ?"

" Fatigued !" exclaimed the barrister, to her excuse. " I
should as soon admit the plea of a star for ceasing to shine upon
the pretext that it was too troublesome to continue its light."

" Has there never been such a disappearance ?" questioned
Mr. Lacy.

" I have seen eclipses," retorted the other. " The sun is
invisible, when the leaden moon comes between it and us.
This music is too inspiriting, Miss Ross ; am I reduced to the
necessity of seeking another partner ?"

I am sorry I can't say 'no/ " said she, laughingly.

Mr. Lacy was bent upon expelling the regrets reflection might
beget; and wiled into confidence by his gentle endeavors to
induce a trust in him as a friend, Ida spoke freely, though not
unguardedly, of feelings and thoughts which had been so long
hushed, that their speech was slow and imperfect; but he inter-
preted and prized their stammered story. As the night wore
on, exhausted couples dropped in, and there was an end to con-
nected conversation. It was as well, for both were forgetting
where they were. Morton relinquished his chair to Ellen, and
Btood by her, and Lynn sank, playfully, upon one knee before Ida.

ALONE. 161

" Take care I" was his whisper. " Serpents coil in rose-
thickets."

What do you meun ?" inquired sue, struck and chilled.

" That we are the most tenacious of that to which we have
the most meagre title."

A masculine Sphinx ! speak out 1" she demanded.

" Miss Read could enact (Edipus to this riddle. Seriously,
Ida, beware of that woman ! She courts Lacy's society. I do
not know what the ladies' verdict is to us it is as plain as that
he does not like her half as well as he does you. Do not avoid
him ; he deserves your favor ; but do nothing to uncover her
eyes blindfolded by her egregious conceit."

" Lynn ! you confound me ! What have I to do with Mr.
Lacy ! I have no interests which would war with hers, were they
ever so strong. Having nothing to lose, I have nothing to fear.
I am obliged to you for your brotherly cares," she added,
roguishly. " A fellow-feeling makes us wondrous kind."

You know it, then !" exclaimed he, his large eyes splendid
in their flash of intelligence and rapture.

" I am not insensible or indifferent, where the happiness of
my friends is concerned," she rejoined, in the same confidential
tone.

Another gleam thanked her.

Ellen Morris was what is termed, a taking girl." The high,
gay spirit, which had distinguished her among her comrades at
Mr. Purcell's won her distinction in a world willing to be amused.
She had objectionable traits, but there was also much that was
admirable and loveable about her. ^If her over-weening fond-
ness for merriment offended, it was easy to forgive one, whose
lively sense of the comic was inbred and irresistible. Still, it
was a marvel that the impassioned -Lynn should recognise in her
the embodiment of his poetic dream of woman. They met
before he went to Europe, and the tricksy sprite of a school-girl
was not dislodged from his memory by the lures that tried him
there. He came back to find a blooming maiden preserving the
fresh, joyous grace which had captivated him in the child and .
loved ! as men seldom love as women often do with an aban- *
don of affection, an upyielding of every faculty and thought to
14*

162 ALONE.

the dominion of one sentiment a love tbat brings gladness to
few hearts, and breaks many ! many !

Had he asked Ida, with the disinterested equanimity, some
suitors we wot of, display, what course she would advise in this
momentous matter, she would have responded with a sister's
candor, " she does not suit you rid yourself of your entangle-
ment j" but it was too late j she must hope with, and for .him.
la payment for his cautionary remark, she hinted, that, situated
as they were, misconstruction and jealousy might be formidable
foes to his peace of mind : that neither ' smiles nor frowns
were unerring indices of a girl's heart. He scouted the implied
suspicion.

" Jealous of these popinjays !" glancing disdainfully at the
black coats and white vests in attendance, as if he thought they
contained wound-up automata.

"The danger does not appear imminent ;" said she. "See
that you retain this satisfied state of mind."

Her countenance fell, and he heard Josephine say, simper-
ingly

" How dramatic ! pray, Mr. Holmes, is this a rehearsal, or a
real performance ?"

" Most ladies are so versed in love affairs, as to understand
the symptoms at a glance ; is not your eye sufficiently practiced ?"
asked he, with a curling lip.

" No, sir. I regret to say that the gentlemen of my acquaint-
ance are not sentimental or politic enough, to get up such scenes."

" I have no doubt you do deplore it."

"Why, Mr. Holmes!" ejaculated Ellen, with her gleeful
laugh ; " how ungallant !"

" You mistake. It was a skilful combination of veracity and
politeness. I must coincide with her, and am pleased that it
can be done without violence to my conscience. I wish I could
propose a cure for the evil you lament, Miss Read, but I anz
afraid it is irremediable. Men are obstinate animals."

Ida, alarmed, touched his foot; and the lynx eyes saw the
slight movement. A deadly light glowed there for an instant,
and was extinguished in softness, as she assailed Mr. Lacy.

'" In what far distant region of tho hall.'
have you kept yourself all the evening, Sir Truant ?"

ALONE. 163

"Polyhymnia and Melpomene I" muttered Lynn.

I have been a fixture in this room most of the time;" replied
Morton.

" How selfish ! had you no sense of duty ? could you not
sacrifice your ease to secure the enjoyment of your friends ?"

" It would argue ridiculous vanity in me, to suppose that my
absence has detracted from the pleasures of the assembly ; and
from the aspirants for the smile of the reigning belles, so unim-
portant a personage is not missed."

"Can he like her?" thought Ida. "There is still an air
unlike other men, but he does not act or speak as he did to me.
He looks amused but very careless. Oh ! why must we have
two faces ?"

" Why did you stop me just now ?" queried Lynn, pettishly.
" I do not fear her ; I am rather anxious she should know the
extent of my dislike."

" How will that benefit either of you ?" inquired Ida.

" Don't play the saint ! much consideration you owe her ! 1
am a good hater : I cannot fawn and smile upon one, woman
though she^is beggared in principle and heart. She is capable
of anything. Mean and tyrannical those who deal with her,
must be tools or enemies, I choose the latter alternative. I
will not hear any justification. Don't I know cannot everybody
see, that she is the trouble of your life, that she would murder
you, but for the cowardly dread of detection !"

" You will counsel me next, to sleep with pistols under my
pillow ;" said she. " What an array of horrors you are manu-
facturing ?"

" It is as true as Gospel. Why disclaim it ? Charley told
me of the vixen before I saw her ; he can be civil I cannot
and what is more will not !"

" He sees, perhaps, that animosity to my friends may be an
engine to inflict suffering upon me ;" answered Ida, thinking of
Mr. Dermott.

Lynn coloured. " He intimated as much. I have not his
self-command ; he is a better, because a more unselfish friend
than I,"

" I have no fault to find with you " was the reply. " It is a
comfort to feel, that come what may, I have twc brothers tc
depend upon."

164 ALONE.

Charley was leaning upon the back of her chair, and this
remark was made partly to him. Lynn pressed her hand, as he
recovered himself from his lowly posture, but there was as much
meaning in the kind gaze of his undemonstrative friend. Their
affection was a rill of pure water, stealing through a region of
artificial light and bloom ; and people pretended to, or did mis-
interpret it. Josephine credited, doubted, and was impatient by
turns. One of them was the lover ; they were too friendly to
be bound upon the same errand. Lynn's manner was most
unequivocal but his attentions to Ellen ! Charley was not a
marrying man that was settled everybody said ; but the ten-
der respect he paid Ida ; the watchfulness that protected her
from impertinence and neglect, were weighty offsets to this
popular decision ; and again, opposed to these, were his dis-
interestedness in surrendering his post to Lynn, or any agreeable
companion, who sought it, and the absence of uneasiness in his
observation of her belleship.

Ida laughed at her mystification, as did those who effected it,
frequently concerting some manoeuvre, by which to lead her
further into the labyrinth. If Charley made one of the family
in the evening, the morrow brought Lynn to drive or walk.
Charley lent her books, and imported a writing-desk from Paris,
upon hearing Mrs. Dana say that Ida had made a fruitless
search through the city, for one of a particular description ;
Lynn appeared to have laid down the brush for the spade and
pruning knife, so abundant were the bouquets, left with Mr.
Holmes' compliments; and the walls of her chamber were
adorned with pictures, from subjects proposed or approved by
her. But amidst the frolicsome action of this drama, was col-
lecting matter for another, to be closed only with Life, to be
remembered, perchance, with Eternity; and the chief actor
danced and sang and sported, unaware of the importance of the
dawning era. All her life a dreamer, she did not observe that
the enshrined ideal was shaping itself into the real ; that the
far-off future, her hopes had sprung forward to greet, as if to
meet it half-way would hasten its lagging pace, was merging
into the brightening present. She had expected the summer to
burst upon her, with fragrance and music and sunshine, and took
no note of the swelling buds and violet perfume of Spring And

ALONE. 165

here, let not him, who is wearied by the labors of Autumn, or
numbed by the frosts of Winter, close our humble story, with a
lofty scorn, or scathing displeasure at the prospect of a " love-
tale." Rather let him unfold his shut-up heart, and read there
of his own glad May, its dancing shadows, fairer than the
oblique sun-rays that fall upon his beaten track ; of the rosy
June, the redemption of its young sister's promise : and look-
ing sadly upon its dust-eaten blossoms, think, with loving pity,
of flower-cups which hold the dew-drop now, soon to fade and
shrivel as these have done !

CHAPTER XIV.

IT had been predicted from the premature beginning of the
winter's gaieties, that an ebb would occur before the Southern
carnival, Christmas, and the party-goers resolved to falsify the
prophecy.

Mrs. Dana called on the afternoon of the 24th to invite Ida
and Josephine to dine with her. " You will see only ourselves
and Mr. Holmes, who is Charley's shadow."

" A stupid set," was Josephine's reflection. " How pleasant,"
Ida's ; and their answers corresponded. The former, " very sorry,
papa would always dine at home, Christmas-day ; he held it to
be a religious duty she verily believed/" laughing affectedly, " and
he could not eat unless she were there."

Ida said, " I will come with pleasure, thank you," and lost
all but the main purport of Miss Read's apology, in an eager
whisper from Elle, who was with her mother.

I don't hear, will I please come to what ?' lifting her to her
lap.

Elle put her arms around her neck, and her mouth to her
ear.

" To your molasses stew !" said Ida, " indeed I will. When
is it to be ?"

Another important whisper.

Josephine, are we engaged for to-morrow evening ?"

I do not know," she replied, shortly.

166 ALONE.

" I hope not," said Mrs. Dana. " Elle's head is full of her
frolic. I was describing to her the molasses stew I had every
Christmas, when I was a child, and nothing would do but I must
promise her one for being a good girl/ "

" She deserves it, I know," said Ida, fondly. " I will come,
Elle, if I leave fifty grown people's parties."

" Will you, too ?" asked the child, going up to Josephine.
Mrs. Dana pressed the invitation.

" I am not certain, but I have engaged to go somewhere else,"
said Josephine, smiling heartlessly into the pure little face. " If
I can, I will do myself the honor, Miss Dana."

The wretched attempt at playfulness actually frightened Elle,
who shrunk again to the side of her friend.

" Are you serious in promising to go to this babyish fal-lal ?"
snapped Josephine, the minute Mrs. Dana was gone.

" I am."

"Did not you hear that Anna Talbot is to receive company
to-morrow night ?"

"Yes; and I am rejoiced that Elle's invitation was earliest.
There are Anna and Ellen Morris."

" I haven't time to stay," exclaimed the young lady, throwing
herself upon the sofa. " You both must spend a sociable even-
ing with me a Christmas jubilee egg-nogg, country-dances,
etc. "We are to have a high time. You are disengaged ?"

" I am," said Josephine, promptly, " and if I were not, I
could not resist the temptation to send a 'regret/ and go to
your house."

e{ Thank you and you, Ida may I count upon you both ?"
drawing up her cloak. Ida declined courteously; "she was
engaged to Mrs. Dana."

" Oh !" began Anna, disappointed.

" Is it not too silly ?" interposed Josephine. " It is a child's
party a molasses stew think of it!"

" You are joking, Ida," said Ellen, " excuse yourself to Elle
we want you !"

"Not as much as my little cousin does. I cannot break my
word to her."

" Little cousin !" smiled Anna. " I thought the relationship
was closer. I will not give up the hope of persuading you.

ALONE. 167

The nicest beaux in town are to be there Mr. Thornton, Mr.
Russell, and Mr. Villet, and Mr. Lacy, and a score more da
come I'"

" I cannot !" said Ida, with a pang.

" Papa will not be pleased with our going out separately ;"
said Josephine, that night.

" He does not object to my going to Mr. Dana's alone;" was
the response.

" Thinking of number one, as usual, my amiable lady ! I tell
you what ! I shall not demean myself, by playing puss-in-the-
corner, and smearing my hands with treacle, when I might be
at Mr. Talbot's, in decent company."

" As you like. If you represent the character of the com-
pany to your father, he will probably insist upon your mixing
with them."

" He ! he !" tittered Rachel, who was in waiting. Josephine
flounced out of the room.

Christmas gift, Miss Ida !" Her maid stood at her bedside,
in the grey morning light. " Christmas gift !" called out the
passers-by, as they encountered each other in the street. " Hur-
rah for Christmas I" shouted squads of boys, at the corner, to a
brilliant accompaniment of pop-crackers.

Ida heard it all, with a spirit out of tune with mirth. No
gifts were prepared for herj the Thanksgiving-day was one of
mourning to the homeless. She had anticipated a visit from
Carry, during the holidays ; but her last letter had dashed the
hope. Mammy" was recovering from a severe fit of sickness,
and she would not leave her. Ida wished she were not to dine at
Mr. Dana's ; she was not fit for society, and sad enough, without
the sight of joys, which reminded her of her losses and wants.
In this discontented mood, she went down stairs. No Christmas
yet ! Mr. Read grunted to her formal bow, and Josephine said
" the coffee was cold it had been on the table so long." Mr.
Read finished his second cup, and pulled out his pocket-book.

" People will be asking if I made you a present. Thank
goodness ! Christmas comes but once a year. Two would break
a man. There!" fillipping a roll of notes to his daughter.
" Don't waste it upon gimcracks and finery. If women had to
earn money, they wouldn't be so crazy to spend it. You must

168 ALONE.

have some, I suppose :" and he laid a smaller bundle upon Ida'e
plate.

No, sir ! I have money of my " but he did not wait to hear
her through. As she quitted the table, Josephine pointed to
the untouched " present."

" Take it, if you choose !" said Ida, contemptuously. " I am
not a dependant or a beggar I"

Josephine loved money, and pocketed it. " And the old cur-
mudgeon is none the wiser I" chuckled the dutiful daughter.

Ida stretched herself upon a lounge, and set seriously about
reasoning herself out of her despondency. She thought of Carry,
and Lynn and Charley ; but they came reluctantly, with selfishly
happy faces; with their schemes and amusements and dearer
friends. Mr. and Mrs. Dana pitied her; this was the spring
of their kindness ! and her haughty soul winced at the idea.
Hope and Fancy crept, with trailing wings, into hiding-places
until the sun should shine out she sullenly hugged her misery.
What visionary who reads this, but has suffered from these
morbose fits ?

" Well ?" said she, tartly, as Rachel tiptoed across the floor.

" I thought you was asleep;" replied the sable damsel.

" I am awake do you want anything ?"

Rachel rubbed her chin, gave her turban a twitch, and fumbled
in her pocket. " Law ! I aint lost it, I know ! It must be in
my bosom I"

Ida, awakened by her movements, watched her as she pro-
duced a tiny packet from the last-mentioned receptacle. With
an odd compound of awkwardness and affection, she slipped a
ring upon her mistress' finger.

" Thar ! it fits ! don't it ?" intensely complacent.

" But where did you get it, Rachel ? is it for me ?"

"For you, and nobody else, Miss Ida. I was determined
your nose should not be made a bridge of by everybody; so I've
been a savin' my spare coppers (and no servant of yours wants
for 'em,) and when you was admirin' that ar ring of Miss
Josephine's, I says to myself She shall have one !' and when
I'd cleaned up your room, I took off down town to the jewellerers
and thar 'tis wishin' you a Merry Christmas, and an ever-
lastin' Happy New Year, ma'am !" stepping back with a flourish-

ALONE. 169

lag courtesy. Ida tried to smile at her peroration, and failing,
burst into tears. Rachel was transfixed. She was not used to
hysterics, and had never seen her mistress weep before. Her
consternation was a speedy restorative ; and Ida finally made her
sensible that she was not grieved or displeased, but overjoyed at
her gift. Then the voluble Abigail recollected " somethin' else"
she had to communicate.

" Aint that tall gentleman, with black whiskers, that visits
here so constant, named Mr. Lacy t"

Yes."

" I thought so. When I went into the jewellerer's he was a
standin' at the counter, buyin' a pair of gold spectacles for his
mother I reckon. I heard him say they was for a lady. I
asked for the rings, and the shop-boy gave me a string of brassy,
ugly things and says I I want a handsome one, sir, for my
mistis.'

11 ' Your mistis !' says he. * Them's plenty good for her !'

" ' Are these the best you have ?' says Mr. Lacy, sort o'
frownin' and talkin' like he was his master fifty times over.

" ' No, sir would you like to see some t' says the boy, turnin'
white.

" Bring them !' says Mr. Lacy ; and when they come, he
told me, with the sweetest smile, and so respectful ! These cost
a great deal of money do you know it ?' So I showed him
what I had, and he said 'twould do. Bimeby, I picked out two,
and could not tell which was the prettiest. I kept a-lookin' at
one, and then at 'tother, and says he, Can't you choose between
them ?'

" ' No, sir,' says I.

" ' I think that the handsomest ;' says he, pintin* to one, and
that's it you've got on your finger, this minute, Miss Ida. He
seed that low-lived boy give me the right change, and when I
curchyed and said, I'm mightily obliged to you, sir ;' he said,
'You are welcome,' just like I'd been the Governor ! Wo
colored folks know a gentleman when we see him, and Tie is a
real born one."

The ring was very elegant, and the blood mounted to Ida's
temple's, as she toyed with it.

" Perhaps, it was not Mr. Lacy ?" said she, in a tone of
15

170 ALONE.

extreme indifference. "Where had you met him, that you
know him ?"

" I never met him nowhar. I seed him one Sunday, when
he walked home with you from church, and I was at the upstairs
window, and once through the dinin'-room door when he waa
here to supper, and once through the parlor window."

" Peeping ! Rachel ! If he had seen you, he would not think
as highly of your manners, as you do of his."

" Peeping ! Law ! Miss Ida, them was sly glimpses, permis-
cuous-like, you know. He warn't a-gwine to catch me."

A longer inspection of the ring. There was no blush this
time, but the smile was happier. The motive was then as pure
as the action was generous. The little shower had purified the
murky atmosphere. This token of remembrance, at a moment
when she believed herself forgotten, was none the less dear that
the donor was a poor slave. It was the fruit of self-denying
affection ; and had no sooner clasped her finger, than it acted as
the Open Sesame to a store-house of untold riches. " It has
taught me more than one lesson," she murmured.

Rachel was garrulously happy.

" I do-clar, Miss Ida, you've been gettin' prettier ever since I
come in;" said she, standing off to survey the effect of her
toilette. " I hope thar'll be a crowd at Mars' John's. Is it a
dinin'-day ?"

" No a family party."

" That's a pity ! I 'spect thar's another present 1 It never
rains but it pours."

The footman said Mr. Dana was below. Charley waited to
escort her to his brother's ; and Ida began to realise, as he paid
the compliments of the season, in a style, eminently Char-
leyish/' that Christmas had indeed come.

" Christmas gift ! Christmas gift ! cousin Ida," shouted two
infantine voices; and Charley the less, and Elle scampered
down the porch-steps to salute her. " Now mamma ! now for
the tree ! She is here I"

" Oh ! Mrs. Dana ! have not they seen their tree ? What
suspense for the dear creatures I"

" It was their wish ; and their father would not consent that
the door should be unlocked until the family were assembled."

ALONE 171

Here is the last straggler !" exclaimed Lynn, springing
into the group, shaking hands with his friends, and kissing the
children. " We are all here I"

At a given signal, the door of the mysterious room was un-
folded, and revealed the tree ; its precious load glittering and
gay in the clear winter day. Headed by " papa," and closed
by the nurse and baby, the procession performed a circuit, and
then formed a ring. Uncle Charley was distributor; accom-
panying each gift by an appropriate remark. For Ida, there
were a pair of ear-rings from John Dana ; a bracelet of fair
hair, which did not require the simple " Carry" upon the
chased clasp, to signify from whose brow it had been shorn ;
a handsomely-bound edition of Shelly's works Lynn's taste ;
Charley gave a card case, a Chinese curiosity, and evaded her
thanks and praises by pointing out a resemblance in the most
grotesque figure, carved thereupon, to himself, a circumstance,
which he protested, induced him to select it. Among the
white buds of a perpetual rose-tree, hung a card " Elle and
Charley to their dear cousin ;" and Mrs. Dana finished the list
with a rose-wood work-box, supplied with every implement of
female industry.

" Is this being friendless ?" asked Ida, inly, looking at her
acquisitions. " For the rest of the day, I will be grateful and
contented."

The morning was spent in the nursery. On Christmas day,
its door could not bar intruders ; there were no men or women ;
all were children, Charley whipped his namesake's top ; rocked
the cradle ; and instructed Elle in domestic economy, as he
helped arrange her baby-house. The dinner-bell, rung an hour
earlier than usual, on account of the wee ones taking that meal
with the " big folks," was faintly heard in the din of a famous
game of romps. The afternoon was less noisy ; the children
fell asleep, wearied with frolic ; the gentlemen walked out ; Mrs.
Dana was busy; and so it was, that Ida sat alone in the
drawing-room, at nightfall, watching the passing of the pink
light from the clouds, and thinking " Everything to gladden
me, and yet ill at ease ! murmuring soul, be still I" And then
she wished for the society of a calmer mind, that should speak
peace to the heavings of her unquiet spirit; for the compre-

172 A L X E .

hensive charity, the benign philosophy, which hoped for the best,
and argued for the right this was her version of the outgoing
of the woman's heart " Would he were here !"

But Elle's friends came early, and she had no time for higher
thoughts than filling small mouths with bread and butter
" run-the-thimble," the vexed question of "how many miles
to Babylon ;" and Chicken-me-chicken-me-craney-crow ;" pas-
times, whose barbarous names cause the refined juveniles of this
precocious '54, to join their gloved hands in thanksgiving, that
their lot was not cast in those times ! As the dignified master
of the house deigned to participate in the ceremonies, we trust
our heroine will not suffer a very grievous letting-down in the
opinion of these formidable critics, for the prominent parts she
assumed. A circle was ordered for " Fox and goose." Charley
played Reynard, and Ida, goose the first. The children enjoyed,
without fully understanding the game, and she had to keep the
character longer than the laws prescribed. Round and round
they flew circling and doubling the spectators screaming their
applause and she ran directly against a gentlemen who was
entering. Her impetus was such that she would have fallen,
but for his extended arm. A laughing voice said something,
unintelligible in her confusion.

" Oh ! Mr. Lacy !" cried Elle. "I was so afraid you wouldn't
come !"

" I promised did I not ?" said he, stooping to kiss her.

" Yes, sir, but I thought maybe you'd rather go to Miss
Anna Talbot's party, like Miss "

" Elle ! Elle ! no, no I" whispered Ida, in time to suppress the
name.

" You see I had rather be at yours ;" he returned, without
noticing the unfinished sentence. " What are you playing ?"

" ' Did you ever see a wild gooso

Sailing on the ocean ?' "
sang Charley.

" ' The wild goose's motion

Was a mighty funny notion.' "

he added, aside to Ida.

No forced spirits now ! The innocent fun the converse of
the social circle, after the little ones had gone the walk home,

ALONE. 173

beneath the tremulous stars the " good night" and pressure,
whose thrill lingered in her fingers 'till sleep sealed her eyes
all were sources of unutterable pleasure pleasures born from
one influence flowing from one presence.

A month later, Josephine returned from an evening concert,
with a violent toothache, the consequence of the sudden transition
from the steaming hall to the ice-cold air without. She tossed
and groaned in agony through the night ; by morning the pain
abated, a relief for which she was wickedly ungrateful, when she
beheld reflected in the mirror, a tumefaction of the cheek, nearly
closing one eye, and otherwise marring the symmetry of her
features. The pain came back at intervals during the day;
and with fretfulness, threw her into a fever. Dr. Ballard was
sent for. It was late in the evening when she awoke from the
slumber, gained by the anodyne he administered. The rain was
plashing against the window ; there was no other sound except
a subdued murmur of distant voices. There were visitors in the
parlor who had ventured through the storm ? Her sharpened
senses caught manly tones tones she thought she recognised ;
and then Ida's rippling, joyous laugh smote her unwilling ear.
The conversation became lower and more serious; and she
could endure no more. Unmindful of health and prudence, she
hurried on a dressing-gown, wrapped a shawl about her head,
and glided down stairs, as stealthily as a cat. The front room
only was warmed and lighted, but the folding-doors were ajar.
Mr. Lacy stood by the mantel, hat in hand, yet in no hurry to
depart. He was playing with a rosebud he had plucked from a
vase near, but as unconscious of its beauty as of the lateness of the
hour. The expression with which he regarded the earnest speaker
before him was not to be mistaken. It even seemed that he
would have it understood, for a proud smile trembled over hia
mouth as her eye avoided his.

Josephine felt turned to stone. By a singular fatality, she
had, up to this time, remained ignorant of the growing intimacy
between these two. We have seen that many of their inter-
views were unknown to her, although some of them occurred in
her very presence; and Ida, in obedience to Lynn's caution, had
guarded against any appearance of rivalship. Now, jealousy
and perception awoke together at one sweeping glance back-
15*

174 ALONE.

ward, she saw herself slighted foiled duped ! and she grew
faint at the sight of the frightful results of her lack of vigilance,
which rushed overwhelmingly upon her mind. Her native
shrewdness soon came to her aid. Matters were not so despe-
rate. There was no word of love; she breathed more freely.
" Not yet ! not yet !" she hissed, under her breath ; and the
small hands clenched in passionate resolve, as she added
"never!" The leave-taking was full of feeling, but friends
parted as kindly. The outer door clanged to ; and Ida sank into
her chair. Buried in the cushions, she sat, looking into the
blaze, a smile of ineffable tenderness illumining her face; her
cheeks bright with unwonted scarlet. The patter of the rain
upon the panes but lulled her into deeper reverie. And in con-
trast to a foreground so rich and warm, in its glowing colors and
balmy air, and dreams of love and hope was the dark, chill
background, with its shape of evil, hideous in her distorted fea-
tures and glowering hatred. Ida stooped suddenly. It was to
pick up the bruised bud Morton had dropped. She looked
around hurriedly, and with a more vivid blush, raised it to her
lips, and hid it in her bosom.

" Rose-buds are not the only things which are played with for
a time, then trampled under foot, as you shall learn ere long,
my love-lorn damsel I" said the wily schemer, stealing back to
her chamber.

" With us, now, it is war to the death !"

CHAPTER XV

NOTHING appeared less likely, at this period, than the fulfil-
ment of Lynn's prognostications of his destiny. He collected
encouragement and praise at every turn. A Bayard in society
a Raphael at the easel, he bore a distinguished part in the lioni-
zation of the day. He sped well, too, in his wooing. A quick
fancy and impressible heart could hardly resist the attractions
of his person and genius ; and the spice of coquetry, generally
predominant in Ellen's disposition, lay dormant, as she heark-
ened to the voice of love. She made but one reservation in

ALONE. 176

pledging him her troth that their engagement should be secret.
He would have had it proclaimed through the land he so joyed
in the bliss he had won ; but he bowed to the scarcely uttered
wish, respecting the maiden modesty that dictated the request.
To Ida and Charley it was divulged. He would not accept a
happiness they were forbidden to share. For a few brief weeks
this knew no shade or diminution; but a change came. Ida
discovered it; but he was silent, and she would not extort con-
fidence. It was a trial to see his clouded countenance and fitful
spirits; yet she knew his peculiarly sensitive organization, and
hoped the evil was magnified by its medium. In this hope she
finally persuaded him to speak.

They met at a Fancy Fair. Ida was in an embowered recess,
Mr. Lacy for a companion, and Charley hanging around to play
propriety. Lynn entered alone, and did not attach himself to
any person or party. He marched from end to end of the room ;
with folded arms, and a dogged look, too foreign to him, not to
impress one unpleasantly. He perceived Ida after awhile, and
acknowledged her presence by touching his hat, with no loss of
gloominess. Ida was distrait; even Mr. Lacy failed to charm;
and he was aware of it. He guessed, too, from the direction of
her eyes, the working of her thoughts, and proposed a visit to
the refreshment table, which stood in the path of the prome-
naders. Lynn could not brush by without speaking. The first
tone of Ida's voice affected him. The dull black of his eyes
became lustrous, and the long lashes fell over them to conceal
the momentary weakness. She would not let him go. She
asked him questions without number or meaning, not waiting for
answers, until she had eaten her ice ; when she gave her glass
to Mr. Lacy, and with an apology, his eye said was unnecessary,
took Lynn's arm. He confessed all, as she had determined he-
should. It was a common tale; the scrupulousness of a love,
made up of delicacy and truth, and the thoughtless trifling of a
girl who felt her power; so she explained it, but the young
lover mourned the death of his first-born hope.

" I would as soon speak lightly of my dead sister, as tamper
with her affection," said he. " Your excuse that she does these
things to try mine if you are right proves that she neve:
loved me."

176 ALONE.

" But why did I say she applied the test ? In girlish caprice
foolish enough but harmless as to intention. Have you for-
gotten what women are in their ' hour of ease ?' if danger or
sorrow menaced you, she would stand by you to the last. She
loves you, Lynn, I am assured of this."

" Not so am I. I called there this evening. She had pro-
mised to accompany me hither, but she was ' engaged with com-
pany!' Those addlepates, Pemberton and Talbot were there,
doling out their senseless prattle ; and she was gracious to them,
repellant to me. If Pemberton were not a puppy, I would not
sleep before I crossed swords with him. She waltzed with him
last night. I had told her that I would not invite any lady,
whom I respected, to engage in that most disgusting of dances.
Conceive of my feelings, when, within the hour, I saw her whirl-
ing down the hall in his arms ! And the coxcomb's insufferable
impudence ! if he thwarts me again, I will cane him I"

" You will not ! Go and see Ellen to-morrow, when there is
no one to annoy you, by preventing a private interview. Set
before her the unkindness, the want of generosity apparent in
her conduct ; assert your rights with dignity, and your resolu-
tion to uphold them."

" I would not pain her, Ida. She has chosen the easiest
method of undeceiving me; better this, than a life-time of
misery to both. She said, the other day, to a gentle reproach
for an open slight, which would have offended a vainer man,
mortally, that she did it to mislead others. 'A young lady/
she remarked, sinks into a cypher, if it is suspected that she
is betrothed. I have not had my lawful amount of admiration
yet/

" Ellen !' said I, I have loved you as man never loved
woman before ; have believed you pure and high-minded. If I
thought that the despicable coquetry you insinuate, caused you
to insist upon the concealment of our engagement, I would
trumpet it to the world, and then break it myself!'"

"Lynn, remember where you are! You are too harsh; it was
a jest."

" The manner displeased me most, and to-night, when I saw
those fops could I be patient ?"

Their conversation and saunter were prolonged.

ALONE. 177

"Are you going home to-night?" asked Josephine, gaily,
hailing them in one of their rounds. " They are extinguishing
the lamps."

Ida changed color as she saw that she had Mr. Lacy's arm.
Lynn observed it, and waited for her.

" You are fast walkers go on," said Josephine, at the door.
As they passed, Ida had a view of Mr. Lacy's features. They
were so pale and rigid, that she started. He answered her look
of apprehension with one that froze her hlood.

What had she done to draw down that stern, yet sorrowful
rohuke?

" The look you wear
A heart may heal or break."

Her pillow was damp that night.

Mr. Thornton had obtained a signal victory in his first import-
ant cause. Already, his legal acumen and oratorical powers
marked him in the public eye for usefulness and fame ; and on
the evening after the delivery of the verdict, he called together
a band of select spirits to rejoice with him. The banquet was
well ordered ; comprising the rarities of the season, and a variety
of wines, varied by the introduction of agreeable non-intoxicants,
coffee, tea, iced sherbet, etc. These unwonted accompaniments of
a bachelor supper were looked upon with an evil eye by some of
the guests. They were jealous of innovations which might end in
puritanical abstinence ; and their fears were further excited that
three of their small number preferred the less stimulating beve-
rages. That Mr. Lacy's example should be copied by Mr. Comp-
ton, a fellow-student, was not surprising, as they were intimate,
and known as members of the same church; but at Charles
Dana's rejection of the social glass, there was a hum of excla-
mations and inquiries, which was calmed by his imperturbability,
and the polite tact of the host. Morton could not unriddle the
conduct of his friend, for he knew that his most trivial action
was not meaningless. " Not a convert, Charley ?" he said, when
the rest were in full cry after some inspiring subject.

" Unfortunately, no. It is from a motive of expediency that
I abstain to-night."

They sat together, and as he spoke, Mr. Lacy chanced to
remark Lynn, who was opposite. Be drank deeply, but hi?

178 ALONE.

potations had not I ad time to ignite the fire that burned in his
eyes and cheeks. His talk was a volcanic eloquence, reckless as
to course and consequence ; and his laugh had the peal of a
maniac's yell. In real alarm, Morton turned to his neighbor.
Charley was on the alert; not outwardly he might have been
more grave and taciturn than common, but there were no evi-
dences of anxiety. Morton divined his feelings, by a glance he
saw exchanged between him and his heated friend ; a look of
warning and appeal on one side, of anguish, scornful in its
bitterness, on the other, and the torrent rolled on as before.

During the giving of toasts, Mr. Lacy and Charley fell into a
quiet chat, only pausing to lift their glasses in courtesy to the
authors, ignorant, most of the time, of the sentiment proposed.
Lynn was more sedate ; from delirium he was relapsing into a
comatose state, when he was brought to his feet by a toast to his
art, coupled with a neatly turned compliment to himself, from
Mr. Thornton. His unpremeditated reply was beautiful and
touching. He was under the very spur of genius ; rich meta-
phors, apt classical allusions, and delicate pathos poured from
his lips, as thoughts from his brain j his rapt hearers scarcely
conscious that he employed the machinery of words. The
applause that succeeded the last musical echo was deafening.
For a moment, the wild glare that had distressed Morton, dis-
appeared, and with a happy, grateful smile, he bowed his thanks
for this spontaneous tribute of approbation and regard.

"Egad!" said Pemberton, "you have mistaken your calling,
Holmes you had better burn up your canvass, and take to
stump-speaking, you'd make more money by it."

Angry frowns and rebuking eyes were directed to the drunken
speaker.

" If stumps and blockheads claim kindred, I shall not need to
go far to exercise my vocation/' said Lynn, hotly.

Ha ! ha !" laughed the other, with a violent affectation of
derision.

" Don't be frightened, gentlemen ! Mr. Holmes and myself
bave wrestled upon another battle-field, and I can afford to forgive
him, from the soreness of his defeat. Your friend and instruct-
ress, that loud-tongued virago, Ida Ross, could not have
uttered "

ALONE. 179

Like a wounded panther, Lynn cleared the table at a bound,
and grasped his throat. A general rush was made to the spot,
and they were parted before either sustained serious injury.
Pemberton had drawn a dirk at the attack, but it was wrested
from him by Mr. Lacy. Reconciliation was impossible in the
excited state of the combatants. Charley prudently withdrew
his friend, relying upon time and reflection to prepare the mind
of each for overtures and concessions. Lynn did not speak until
they reached his room; then, extricating his arm from Charley's
hold, he demanded in a high tone, what had been his object in
terminating the conflict. If not finished there, you know it
must bo somewhere."

" I do not see the necessity," was the reply. " It is a drunken
broil, of which you will be ashamed to-morrow. No man in his
senses would have noticed him as you did. He shall have a
cow-hiding for his last speech; I would not disgrace a more
honorable weapon by using it against him. I am mortified, Lynn
I hoped you were learning to control those childish fits of
passion."

" Am I to be crossed and bullied forever by a meddling fool ?
Is it not enough that he has helped to wreck my peace, but he
must taunt me with it ?" cried Lynn passionately. He ought
not to live, and I do not care to !"

" You certainly are not fit to die." said Charley composedly,
" or you would not rave so like a madman. Be sane for five
minutes; by what means has your happiness been put in his
power ?"

Lynn was a humored, wayward child, and this cold severity did
more to quiet him than an hour's rhetorical pleading. Charley
listened with knitting brows, to a rehearsal of his story to Ida,
and an account of that day's interview with Ellen. She was
dressed for a ride with Mr. Pemberton, and exasperated by this
new example of her disrespect to him in encouraging a man he
despised Lynn had spoke hastily angrily. She retorted with
equal warmth, and after a turbulent scene they parted. Pem-
berton arrived as he was leaving, and his malicious twinkle told
that he comprehended and enjoyed the state of affairs. Like
Ida, Charley had never heartily approved of this match ; but his
indignation towards Ellen was none the less on this account. H

180 ALONE..

saw, in her behaviour, the most culpable flirting, and he said BO
to Lynn. He shook his head sadly.

" Convince me of that and you destroy my faith in woman.
No! I believe she once fancied she loved ine; but I have become
obnoxious to her. It is my fate. The last dream of hope is
over I have nothing to live for now."

He covered his face with his hands. Charley remained with
him all night, an uninvited visitor. His host neglected him
entirely, never speaking, and seemingly unmindful of his pre-
sence. Whenever Charley awoke, he heard him pacing the
floor, or saw the outline of his figure, dark and still, at the
window, gazing into the black night.

" You will not do anything in the settlement of this nonsensi-
cal matter until you confer with me ?" requested Charley, on
saying " Good bye."

"I shall not move in the affair," was the laconic rejoinder.

" You will acquaint me with Pemberton's proposals ?"

"If I think proper yes you shall know in good time."

Charley was going out, and did not catch the exact import of
these words. He proceeded with the business of the day, com-
paratively at ease. Knowing Pembertou to be an arrant coward
at heart, bully as he was, he did not fear a renewal of the sub-
ject from him.

Ida was alone that evening. Mr. Head was in the country ;
and Josephine, having waited until visiting hours were over,
went off to bed. Ida liked to sit up late, but she usually pre-
ferred the snug comfort of her room to the parlors. To-night
she lingered over a book, reading and musing, with a tincture of
gloom in her thought-pictures. She was pondering upon the
instability of earthly plans and hopes. " How true that the
brightest light produces the deepest shadows!" The words arose
unexpectedly to her lips. In the loosely-linked chain of reverie,
she did not know fchat they had their origin in the memory of a
slighter circumstance than a word in a look.

Kachel was coming to sec after her, and hearing a ring as she
tripped by the front door, opened it. A man handed her a
package saying, briefly, "For Miss Ross," and instantly
vanished. Ida saw Lynn's hand in the superscription of the
bulky parcel, and broke the seal. Two letters were within it j

. ALONE. 181

one directed to Ellen Morris ; the other, enclosing a miniature
to herself.

" My best, truest friend !" she read, " I cannot trust myself
to speak the farewell my heart indites to one who has been a
loving and faithful sister to me. It would unman me, and I have
occasion for all my manliness at this juncture. I have no regret
in the prospect of leaving a world where my horoscope was cast
in clouds and storm; I cannot undergo the pangs of seeing
your grief. Destiny will be accomplished, Ida, however insig-
nificant the instrument with which it works. Charley will
inform you of the baseness of that which has severed the one
shining thread of my existence. Heaven grant you may never
know the hatefulness of life, when that for which you thought,
toiled, lived, is torn from you! I have struck the reptile who
trailed over my Eden-flowers, and reared his head insultingly
amid the ruin he helped to effect, and in his unspent malice he
would sting me to death. The sting of death is gone ! there will
be unintentional mercy in the stroke that releases me. I have
been mad I am calmer now. If I know my own heart, I wish
him no evil ; I shall not attempt his life I will not imbrue my
hands in the blood of the murdered.

" You will give the enclosed to my poor Ellen my Ellen !'
she has forbidden me to call her by that name. It may be, she
will pity, when no more, the wretch she could not love when
living.

" My sister and friend ! what can I say to you ? Forgive my
ingratitude in being willing to die before I have made some feeblo
return for your goodness! Will you wear or keep this image of
him, by whom you were never forgotten not in the death-
agony ? I have written to Charley, but he will not receive the
letter until all is over. I was unwilling to risk this its con,
tents are too sacred. You are dreaming in your innocent slum-
bers, of years of peace and joy I shall not close my eyes
but in the sleep that knows no awakening to care and woe. The
blessing of him who is ready to perish' be upon you !

" LYNN."

Ida's impulse was to scream for help ; but ere her palsied
tongue did her bidding, the futility of all attempts to save him
16

182 ALONE.

Btared upon her ; the hour nearly midnight ; the illness jf their
man-servant; Mr. Read's absence; her ignorance of Lynn's
locality or plans beyond his suicidal intention towered, frown-
ing spectres, mountain-high, each with its sepulchral " Impos-
sible !" Some women would have swooned some sunk down
to weep in impotent despair ; the shock over, her energetic
spirit rallied to meet the emergency. He should be saved ! at
the peril of her life, if need be what were personal convenience
and safety ?

Charley the sagacious, collected friend what mortal could
do, he would she must see him. Rachel had not spoken, terri-
fied by her mistress' expression and manner. It was a relief to
aid her in any way ; she brought, without a second's parley, the
cloak and hood Ida ordered, and equipped herself to attend her.
"Take the key/' said Ida, as they went out of the door; and
they sped on their way. The night was dark, and for whole
squares not a light was visible. Half of the distance to Mr.
Dana's was traversed without encountering a single being, when
they approached a lighted door-way, in which two gentlemen
were standing. Fearing to attract their attention by her hurried
gait, Ida slackened her pace, and pulled her hood over her face.
She heard one say If the spasms do not return he may not
want watchers to-morrow night;" and a feeling of security stole
upon her. The friends of the suffering would not molest her,
whose mission was one of mercy. A few squares further on,
they were met by a watchman. Rachel made out his badge of
office through the obscurity, and pressed to her mistress' side
The man stopped. His keen eye discerned her color.

"Your pass!" said he, confronting Rachel.

" Her mistress is with her," answered Ida, emboldened by the
exigency.

He bowed respectfully, and pursued his beat. Ida's heart
throbbed loudly, but she stifled her fears by a reconsideration of
Lynn's extremity of danger, " it was no time for nervous fail-
ings." Rachel did not possess such a tonic, and had seen every
shadow, heard every rustle of the breeze.

Before their adventure with the dreaded " guard," she had
known that one of the gentlemen above-mentioned had taken
the same route with themselves ; keeping, however, upon the

ALONE. 183

other side of the street ; and after Ida's ready response removed
her apprehension of "the cage" and Mayor's court, she saw him
still upon her track worse ! crossing towards them. Overcome
with terror, she clutched her mistress' arm, and by a frantic
gesture, directed her to the object of alarm. He was within six
feet of them ; and startled by his proximity, and the fright of her
attendant, she stood still. A minute of breathless suspense, and
the stranger was at her side.

" Miss Koss," he said, in a low but confident tone. " This is
a strange hour for a lady to be in the street with such attend-
ance !"

His stern, cold address could not repress her thrilling pleasure.

" Oh, Mr. Lacy l"^ she exclaimed, clinging to his arm, and
giving way, for the first time, to tears. " Life and death depend
upon my action the life of one very dear to us both you would
not reproach me if you knew "

" Ida ! dear Ida !" said he, mindful only of her sorrow. " Can
there be reason for this excessive grief? Your fears have misled
you. Of whom do you speak ?"

She could not speak quite yet, but her sobs were subsiding
under his soothing.

Will you not trust yourself and our friend to me, Ida ?"

She looked up. " Yes," she said, simply.

He put her hand within his arm. " First, tell me where you
are going."

To Mr. Dana's."

" For what purpose ?"

" I have something to tell Charley."

"I will be the bearer of your message. Let me see you home;
you shall give it to me on the way."

She obeyed submissively as a child.

" Now !" said he, as they turned back.

" I had a note from Lynn to-night. It is worded so ambi-
guously, contains so many allusions I do not understand, that
I can glean but this he has quarrelled, and been challenged ;
they fight to-morrow, where or when I do not know, nor the
name of his opponent. It is all a horrible mystery."

It was more clear to him. He related the incident of the
altercation at supper, suppressing Pemberton's use of her name.

" Oh ! can it be ! he will not stoop so low ! And he will die I

184 ALONE.

he declares his solemn determination not to resist the attack.
His life is thrown away !"

" Not if man can prevent it I promise you this much. "When
did you get this letter ?"

" Not an hour since."

" Why did you not send to Charley or me ?"

" Mr. Read is away, and John sick."

" What is the tone of the note ? revengeful ?"

" Oh, no ! he says expressly ' If I know my own heart, I
wish him no evil.' He writes, weary of life, and relieved at the
thought of getting rid of it."

" Getting rid' of the life God has bestowed I" repeated he,
indignantly. " Forgive me, Ida ! yet you cannot tolerate this
sentiment ! Does he believe in an hereafter ? Does he allude
to it?"

" No but he does believe I have thought, sometimes, with
more than the intellect. Do not judge him hardly; he has
Buffered much of late ; more from morbid sensibility than actual
troubles, but he imagined his woes too heavy to be borne. He
is not fit to cope with sorrow."

" None of us are, 'till we have been taught the uses of afflic-
tion. This recklessness is, you think, more an impulse than a
purpose ?"

" I am sure of it."

" He will be more manageable then," he replied encouragingly.

The wind blew roughly, and he folded her cloak around her.

" I recognised you by this, and your walk, and fearing lest
you might encounter rudeness in your nocturnal ramble, kept
you in sight. I heard your voice at the watchman's challenge,
and concluded to declare myself your protector. I have been
sitting with a sick friend."

Ida did not know herself when they stopped at the door her
uneasiness all gone, and with it the unnatural strength that
impelled her venturesome step he had assumed the burden ;
and he was so strong and sanguine, it did not oppress him.
With the mild authority which had checked her tears and
reversed her design, he bade her "dismiss anxiety, and rest
quietly until morning, when he would send her glad tidings."
And with the same child-like docility she repaired to her chamber,
and betook herself to slumber.

ALONE. 185

CHAPTER XVI.

IN the bosom of the forest, the tall oaks girdling it, like a
band of mailed warriors, changed by the spell of beauty from
assailants to a guard, lay a little glade, free from brush or sapling;
its tender green carpet freshening in the March sun. The trees
loved the dance of the shadows over that sylvan ball-room, and
they revelled there all the day, and at evening, slept upon the
turf in the moonlight. The clouds of the night had rolled away
before a westerly breeze, and the forest was full of sweet and
pleasant sounds. The oriole had come in advance of the season
to look for his last year's nest ; the woodpecker thrummed upon
a hollow trunk ; and the robins, too busy for more than an occa-
sional note, flew about with sticks and mud in their bills. The
teeming earth was quick with vitality ; you could hear the un-
furling of the grass-blades, the rustle of the leaf-buds as they
broke ground.

An inharmonious sound interrupted the concert the rattle
of a carriage. It stopped; then another drove up; and six gen-
tlemen, three from either side, entered the glade, saluting each
other as they advanced. Lynn's friends were Mr. Thornton and
Mr. Villet; Pemberton's Talbot and another of " the set," by the
name of Watson. Without wasting time in irrelevant chat, the
seconds walked apart for consultation. Peraberton, with a bragga-
docio air, offered his cigar-case to his companion ; and nothing
abashed by his dignified gesture of refusal, planted himself
against a tree, and began to smoke. Lynn paced the little area
in silence. He was haggard to ghastliness ; the effect of a night
of sleeplessness and racking thought. He was brave; his nerves
did not tremble in the hour of peril ; but the soul, forced, before
its time, upon the verge of an unknown sea, shook with a name-
less dread of the punishment of its temerity. Early teachings,
and the convictions of later years weighed upon him. A tiny
wild flower blossomed by his foot he plucked it, and pressed
its petals open with his finger. Whose hand had fashioned it ?
Whose sun kissed it into bloom ? W T hose goodness granted it
16*

186 ALONE.

this lovely home ? It owed its little life to the Father, from
whom he had derived his poet-soul ; it had fulfilled the end ol
its creation ; he was about to hurl his gifts, a million times
more precious, into the face of the Giver. He would gladly
have courted other thoughts, but these would come ; and long-
forgotten texts floated before him ; apparently without a cause
to call them forth. One met him, wherever he looked " Des-
pisest thou the riches of his forbearance, and love and long-
suffering?' 5 And as he repeated, "despisest thou" another
" Behold, ye despisers, and wonder and perish!" These words
were upon his tongue, as Mr. Villet put the pistol into his hand,
and motioned him into his place.

Pemberton had sent the challenge, with no thought of its
being accepted, counting upon the interference of Lynn's friends.
Mr. Thornton had waited upon him with his principal's answer,
settling time, place and weapons; driving him into a corner,
from whence he could only escape by following out his own
proposition. A strained sense of honour was Lynn's birth-
right. His father had died upon the field ; and repudiation of
the duellist's code involved censure of him. Thus they stoodj
face to face, upon this unclouded, fragrant spring morning, to
wash out in blood the memory of a trifle which would have
perished of itself in this time, but for the pains they had taken
to perpetuate it. Oh, Virginia ! most fondly loved of mothers !
how often has thy soil drank the blood of sons, the tears of
daughters, whose lives and weal have been sacrificed to this
pitiless Moloch !

Mr. Talbot explained that the signal was to be the dropping
of a handkerchief, after he should have counted three slowly.
Mr. Villet held the handkerchief " One two " said Tal-
bot, deliberately. Lynn had only time to see the murder in his
antagonist's eye, when a report rang through the forest, and
he felt a sharp pain in his breast and arm.

" Treachery !" shouted Thornton, excitedly. " Shoot him
down, Holmes ! he deserves a dog's death!"

Lynn's hot blood was up he raised his arm. The loaded and
discharged pistols were whirling in the air and Charley Dana
and Morton Lacy threw themselves between the combatants.

" At whose instance was this meeting brought about, gentle-
men ?" questioned the former, peremptorily, scanning the group.

ALONE. 187

" The challenge came from my principal/' answered Watson,
with a brazen look.

" Will you honour me by a minute's private conversation,
sir?" asked Charley, facing Pemberton, with a sneer seen by
him alone. " You need not be afraid," he pursued, not receiving
an immediate reply, " I do not carry concealed weapons."

Pemberton went aside with him very reluctantly. He
respected, because he feared Charley. Without a correct under-
standing of his character, he stood in awe of the keen ridicule
and calm courage, for which his blustering was no match.

" You must be at a loss for something to do, that you covet
such business as this;" began Charley. "I have no objection
to your blowing your brains out and any coroner in the country
would decide that an inquest would be 'much-ado about nothing;'
but it is another matter when you try, in cold blood, to take the
life of one, who has some pretensions to the name of man. You
are a cowardly poltroon 1 If you are on the look-out for insults,
there is one, if truth can insult. Two policemen are at a little
distance. The law will have a more serious job than I antici-
pated. There are five witnesses to the fact, that you fired in
advance of the time. Join this to your provocation of the other
night, and your having sent the challenge; and it will not
require a Philadelphia lawyer to make out a case, which will
put a stop to your murderous propensities for awhile. Now, sir,
what do you propose to do?"

The bully shook visibly. "Keally, Mr. Dana, this is an
extraordinary procedure. You and I have no quarrel."

" I beg your pardon m-en of honour do not pass over such
remarks as I have indulged in. You did not hear me, perhaps ;
I said, and say now, you are a pitiful poltroon ! shaking in your
shoes, this minute, at the prospect of the penitentiary, and the
loss of your soap-locks. But before I give you into the keeping
of your lawful guardians, I have a proposal to make on my own
account. I came here with the intention of giving you a casti-
gation for your impertinent mention of a lady. I will not fight
a duel with you, but if you resist, I will take care you do not
shoot me. I meant to horse-whip you, and I will within an
inch of your life, if you do not make an ample apology. You
cannot bully or blarney me, Pemberton. We know each other."

188 ALONE.

In abject terms, he declared that he had the highest venera-
tion for Mr. Dana's friend, Miss Ross ; he was in wine at the
time spoken of, and was unaware, until told of it, that he had
mentioned her

"That will do!" interposed Charley. "Are you ready to
rejoin your friends?"

11 You will not do me this great injury, Mr. Dana ! think of
the exposure the disgrace ! A duel is an honourable affair, if
carried out; but when it takes a turn like this, you will admit
it looks confoundedly mean."

Charley could not but smile at his ludicrously pathetic tone.

" Will you bind yourself to behave better to your superiors
Mr. Holmes included if I help you out of the scrape ?"

The pledge was eagerly given.

" Your best plan will be to state to the company that, in con-
sequence of explanations made by me, you retract the challenge,
and likewise the offensive remark that provoked Mr, Holmes to
assault you. Offer your hand to him, with the best grace you
can muster ; jump into your carriage and you shall not be
pursued."

The seconds were huddled together, talking of the novel phase
of the affair ; Lynn and Morton walking to and fro ; the latter
speaking earnestly, while Lynn's averted face showed he was not
unmoved. Pemberton obeyed instructions to the letter; and
with a trepidation and hurry which nearly betrayed Charley into
a disgrace of the dignity of the occasion. After a gra^p at
Lynn's hand, he bowed hastily, summoned his attendants, and
disappeared among the trees. The crack of the driver's whip
proclaimed his departure. Thornton and Villet were profuse
in their inquiries, but they were little wiser for Charley's replies.
An exclamation from Morton interrupted them.

" You are wounded !" said he, pointing to Lynn's arm, from
which the blood was oozing.

" Only a scratch," replied he.

Charley ripped up his sleeve ; uncovering a flesh wound of
no great depth. The ball had passed between his side and arm.
grazing both ; its aim was the heart.

" If I had seen this sooner !" said Charley, involuntarily.

What if you had ?" inquired Lynn.

ALONE. 189

He made no reply, but proceeded to bind up the wound.
" Gentlemen !" said he, when he had done ; " your carriage
and breakfast are waiting. I take it, you have nothing more
on hand this morning."

Thornton and Yillet bowed, half-offended ; Lynn lingered.
" How are you going back ?" he asked of Morton, but looking
at Charley.

Our horses are not far off," answered the former, kindly.
" We will see you again in an hour or two."

" Coming!" responded Lynn, to his friends' impatient call.
He looked again to Charley's grave face, beseechingly and
timidly ; but could not summon courage to break the silence.

" Do not punish him too severely, Charley/' said Morton.
He turned from him without speaking. He had never seen him
so affected before. They were alone in the glade ; and the
birds, silenced for a time by human voices, were heard again
twittering in the boughs. Charley spoke at length.

" I have been deceived, Lacy. I thought I knew men, and
was prepared for any inconsistency j but if I had been told that
the man, cherished for years as a brother, would mislead me
purposely in a matter of vital importance to us both, I would not
have credited it. I had his promise, or what amounted to a
promise, that he would not stir without consulting me. What
weakness !" he continued, more agitated, " to abandon fame and
friends and life, because of a fancied slight from a woman !"

" Yet are we guiltless of similar failings ?" said Morton,
impressively. " Have there not been times when we too were
impatient despairing for no more weighty cause? My dear
Charley, let us judge leniently errors into which we might have
fallen, but for greater strength or less powerful temptation.
Disapproval and forgiveness are not incompatible."

" You have witnessed the one will you be the bearer of the
other?" asked Charley, trying to smile. " I will not oblige him
to ask it. He has had humiliation enough for one day."

Mr. Lacy's first care, upon their return to the city, was to
dispatch a note to Ida. It merely announced the success of their
expedition ; the means adopted to secure it, she gathered from
Charley. They had gone together, first to Lynn's then to
Pemberton's lodgings, when Charley had been informed of the

190 ALONE.

projected meeting. They were reported " not at home." They
then hit upon the unpromising expedient of going to every hack-
stand in the city, to ascertain, if possible, at what time the party
was to start in the morning, and its route. They failed, in two
or three cases to arouse the keepers ; and from others received
unimportant and surly replies. Charley had just asked, "Do
you mean to give it up ?" and been answered by a firm " Never !"
when a negro bustled by them. Morton seized him by the
shoulder, and led him to an apothecary's lamp.

"I thought so!"

" I've got a pass. Let me go !" said the fellow, struggling.

"Not until I know where you have been. You are Mr.
Talbot's servant you may gain something, and shall not lose,
by answering me civilly. What were you sent for ?"

By smooth and harsh words, he was brought to acknowledge
that his " young master" having had company all the evening,
had forgotten, until late, to send him to a livery-stable to engage
a carriage for five o'clock next morning.

" Who is with him, besides Mr. Pemberton ?" inquired
Mr. Lacy.

Mr. Watson, sir."

" How far are they to go, after crossing the river ?"

" Lor ! Massa ! how you reckon I know ?"

No trifling, sir ! If I wanted to create mischief, you have
said enough. Tell me everything, or I will go at once to your
master !"

The man instantly named their destination, which his master
had let slip in his hearing ; and added that they were " fixing
pistols." The information was corroborated by a call upon the
liveryman, and they acted upon it. The delay, which was so
near being fatal, arose from their ignorance of a newer and
shorter road than they chose.

" How Lacy guessed their intentions, I cannot imagine," said
Charley. " He would not entrust to me the name of his infor-
mant; and Lynn is as much in the dark. He brought your
letter to the door after he was sure you had retired and mine
was left upon his desk. But Lacy is discreet from principle,
not from caprice."

" He is," said Ida with heightened color. " If any stigma
attaches to the informer, it must rest upon me "

ALONE. 191

" Just like him, noble-hearted and faithful !" exclaimed
Charley, when her story was ended. Shall you tell Lynn ?"

" Yes if only to show him how his friends love him. He
may view it as a breach of confidence, but I had rather he should
reproach me, than suspect the innocent."

Whether he reproached her or not, the revelation did not
diminish his regard for her. Except at their first agitating
interview, he never adverted to the unfinished duel; but he
seemed drawn to her by a new tie, in the recollection of her
readiness to adventure so much in his behalf. Ellen Morris had
left town for a visit to Petersburg, the day after the rupture :
left without a message or line of penitence or conciliation. Lynn
did not complain, but his moodiness subsided into a pensivenes,s,
illumined by the flashes of his former animation, like the sparkle
of smouldering embers.

It was during one of these gleams that he spent the evening
at the rendezvous of what Josephine styled the " Dana clique."
John Dana and his amiable wife were great favorites of his and
Mr. Lacy's. Their friendly calls may have been more frequent
because it was Ida's chief visiting place. Mr. Dana was in New
York, and she had dined and taken tea with her friend.

Lynn came in with Charley, and the latter, excusing himself
for an hour after supper, left Ida and the young artist together.

" I have been thinking lately, how sublime a thing is phi-
lanthropy," said Lynn, throwing himself with boyish abandon,
upon the rug at her feet. "I welcome this train of thought
as a sign, that I am growing less selfish, for I have been
sadly, sinfully selfish, Ida madly intent upon my schemes,
ruy happiness forgetting that God placed me in the world
to benefit others. Lacy was in my studio to-day, and we had
a talk upon this subject. He says there is always a reflex tide
of the happiness we send forth to those around us; a purer,
truer joy than self-gratification. In this respect/ he observed,
1 we can best imitate the example of our Supreme Benefactor.'
Imitate our Creator, Ida ! that is something worth living for."

" You have much besides, to make life precious, Lynn. I
remember when it seemed worthless to me ; when I thought I
had tasted all the sweetness it possessed I have changed my
opinion since."

192 ALONE.

Ah ! but you have never bowed soul and spirit to an idol,
and ' found it clay ;' never realised ia the dread hour that saw
its demolition, that the fairest growth of heart and mind the
plants which you flattered yourself were climbing heavenward,
had only twined themselves with strengthening tendrils about
the altar of that one love ! I know the meaning of the expres-
sion, broken cisterns, which can hold no water/ I have felt
for some time past as if my heart were a stagnant marsh, flooded
by wasted affections To-day I have been happier, more hopeful.
I will begin life anew, and strive for my art and for my kind."

" I have often told you that you have rare qualifications for
usefulness," rejoined Ida. " Your besetting fault is unsteadi-
ness of purpose; the best resolutions avail nothing if they are not
adhered to."

" I know it. I dare not say now, that I will keep my present
frame of mind until to-morrow ; but I do feel as if a broad field
were spread before me, and a bright, bright heaven over-arched
it. I can think and speak of Ellen ; I comfort myself by ima-
gining that our separation is for our mutual good our charac-
ters required discipline, and dimly in the future I see visions of
reconciliation and re-union." Poor boy ! the idol was not gone
yet ! He sat in an attitude of careless grace, his hand support-
ing his cheek, and the light falling upon his upturned face.
" Yes," he continued, thoughtfully. " I am convinced that my
life has been spared for some important end, and I will work it
out, whenever Providence designates the ways and means of its
accomplishment. I do not overlaud my ability; for youth, and
health, and energy, are almost omnipotent, and I am young, and
strong, and willing."

" You will not be offended if I aid you in the work ?" asked
Ida.

" No ; and I anticipate your warning. You would say that
Belf-conquest lies at the base of all other victories. Ah ! you will
yet be ashamed of your incredulity as to my regeneration. That
is Charley's voice, he has brought Lacy, too ! I am glad !"

Ida was more than glad. She had seen him since their mid-
night walk, but Josephine's presence bad debarred her from
even a look of acknowledgment.

Mrs. Dana came down stairs, and completed the fireside
group.

ALONE. 193

" What have you two been prosing about ?" asked Charley,
presently.

I have been talking Miss Ida listening," said Lynn.
She has no faith in my determination to play good boy/ and
as she knows me better than I do myself, I am uneasy for the
durability of my excellent resolve. Do say something encour-
aging, Lacy."

" What is this reformation ? of mind or manner ?" inquired
Morton.

" Mind, manner, heart and will. I have been a wilful trou-
blesome child all my life ; I mean, from this time forward, to be
a man."

" And how are you setting about it ?"

" Oh ! I am theorising now. I have no distinct object, except
to do the best I can ; to mortify evil passions, to uproot selfish
desires, to foster the germs of good in myself and others."

Mr. Lacy smiled, a little sadly. " You have undertaken a
Sisyphus task, if you heave the stone up the hill in your own
strength."

Lynn looked dismayed. " Yet it is our duty to do all this.
The Scriptures, for whose infallibility you contend, set a higher
standard of faith and practice than I have done."

" But they tell us in so many words, Ye can of yourselves
do nothing.' Who can say, I have made my heart clean 1
am pure from my sin ?' "

" You do not agree with the fanatics who denounce morality,
I hope," said Charley. " I heard one hold forth last Sabbath.
He told us 'our righteousness was as filthy rags.' I had read my
Bible, and knew that; but he heated Gehenna seven times
hotter for 'ye miserable moralists' than for the vilest outcast
that ever dishonored the image in which he was made. I make
no pretensions to piety, but I endeavour to do my duty to my
fellow-men ; to hate none, and help all. I go to church because
[ think it right, if only for the example I set to others 5 I don't
expect my good works to be a passport to heaven ; but I thought,
as I listened to him, that his orthodoxy and zeal, without charity,
would profit him nothing."

" You were probably nearer right than he j" said Mr. Lacy.
' I do not decry morality. Reason teaches us that the benevo-
17

194 ALONE.

lent citizen, the honest tradesman, the kind parent and husband,
find more favour in the eyes of a righteous judge than the rioter,
the cheat, the debauchee and tyrant. Much injury is done to
religion by the mistaken zeal of its advocates. This was not the
spirit of its Founder. To me, the history of the young ruler,
who came to Christ, is one of the most affecting in the New Tes-
tament. He was not driven away by disheartening rebukes;
but 'Jesus, looking on him, loved him/ How tenderly must he
-have uttered 'But one thing thou lackest !' "

" But how unnatural is the finale !" said Lynn. " ' And he
went away sorrowful, for he had great possessions. 7 He let his
lucre outweigh his soul !"

"Take care how you condemn!" said Charley. "There
are ( possessions' besides silver and gold, which clog a man's
steps. Love of pleasure has ruined more souls than love of
gain."

"And procrastination more than both together;" added Mor-
ton.

Ida looked at Charley. Do you remember our conversation
after the protracted meeting, last summer?" asked she. " I felt,
when you spoke of Death and Eternity, that I could never close
my eyes again in peace ; but the impression wore off; and we
are here, to-night, it may be, no better prepared for our inevi-
table change than we were then."

"Yet we are content to hunt for the motives of this inconsis-
tency of belief and action, instead of rectifying it !" said Mr.
Lacy, seriously.

" You predestinarians may excuse us upon the ground that wo
are waiting the ' set time ;' " remarked Charley.

" God's time is now ;' " answered his friend. " To-mor-
row' comes with a note of warning ' Boast not thyself of to-
morrow;' e To-day is to-morrow is cast into the oven/ "

" You have battered my scaffolding, and not provided me with
another ;" cried Lynn. " You say I am helpless, yet cry, ' the
night cometh !' "

Mr. Lacy took a Bible from the table, and handing it to Ida,
requested her to read aloud the passages he pointed out.

" ' Then said they unto him ; "What shall we do that we
might work the works of God ? Jesus answered, and said unto

ALONE. 195

them : this is the work of God that ye believe on him whom he
hath sent ;' and Knowing that a man is not justified by the
works of the law, but by the faith of Jesus Christ, even we have
believed in Jesus Christ, that we might be justified by the faith
of Christ, and not by the works of the law/ "

" Thank you," said Lynn. " Then I am to do nothing T'

" Nothing as yet, but believe and trust. Having enlisted in
the service, you will not be left idle. But I am overstaying my
time ; I engaged to meet a friend at half-past nine, and it is
nearly ten. I had rather stay here, but good night, never-
theless."

" And I have not thanked him !" thought Ida, disappointed
but

"Miss Ida !" called Charley, from the porch. " Come, see
this cloud !"

A pile of snow-clouds was heaving up towards the moon,
which fringed their jagged outlines with silver, unearthly bright
from the blackness below.

" You would say, { gloomily beautiful ;' " said Mr. Lacy.

He was close beside her, and approachable as ever; and Char-
ley held Mrs. Dana and Lynn in conversation. In one sentence,
she expressed her sense of obligation, and her regret that he had
had so much trouble in executing her commission. His face was
in the shade, but she felt his look.

" Nothing is a trouble to me, that promotes your happiness."

She went back to the parlor, with a tumultuous joy at heart.
The full significance of his words she did not understand till long
afterwards.

" Mr. Lacy should study for the ministry ;" said Mrs. Dana.

"He does more good as he is;" replied Charley, stoutly. "If
all Christians performed their duty as well, you and I would live
to see the Millennium. He can reach meiv, who would fly at
the glimpse of a white cravat. There is some charm about the
man ; his religion is a part of himself; and he carries it every-
where he goes. I have seen the wildest fellows I know, cluster
around him, and introduce the subject, for the pleasure of hear-
ing him talk. He knows when to begin, and when to leave off.
He says plain things to me ; I might knock down another man
who took the liberty ; I thank him, and am sincere in so doing."

196 ALONE.

" I love to listen to him ; but he makes me very uncomfort-
able ;" said Mrs. Dana.

"It is so with me;" responded Lynn. "Our conferences
always leave me out of humour with myself, and envious of
him."

I think the secret of his influence lies in his humility and
charity ;" remarked Ida ; " in his not holding himself so far
above us deluded worldlings/ as certain of his brethren. He
believes there is good in all ; not that he is all-good."

" These all -good people are too apt to slam the door of Hea-
ven, as soon as they are on the safe side, themselves;" answered
Charley. " Lacy would be willing to see the whole human race
saved."

" Who would not ?" laughed Ida.

" "Who would not !' why, I honestly thought, before I knew
him, that many professors of religion, those of his denomina-
tion, especially would be sorely chagrined at an event so oppo-
site to their calculations."

" I wish I were as certainly ' predestinated' as he is ;" said
Lynn, with a smile and a sigh.

"I cannot quite subscribe to your 'election' principles; but
if I were altogether such an one as he seems to be, I should con-
sider my chance pretty safe;" returned Charley.

" You are not going, Ida !" remonstrated Mrs. Dana. Stay
all night with me."

I cannot. We shall have a snow storm to-morrow, and I
might be detained several days."

" No great harm if you are !" said Charley."

" Not if I have duties which call me home ? I will come
again shortly, but I must go now."

Charley, as host pro tempore, got his hat ; and Lynn followed
them into the street, with, " I hope I don't intrude !" The tem-
pest was near at hand; the gust that buffeted them at the cor-
ners made them stagger. Lynn forced Ida to take his arm also,
and in this style they breasted the storm, gaily. Ida looked out
after them, before she closed the door. They hurried along,
arm in arm, their merry voices borne back to her by the wind,
after the darkness swallowed up their forms.

The snow fell steadilj all the next day, and the next.

ALONE. 197

Josephine was " blue ;" her name for ill-humor bad
weather always made her blue ," Mr. Read had a twinge of the
rheumatism, and was amiable accordingly. Ida wrote a long
letter to Carry; read Charley's last budget of books; and
watched the snow-flakes; enjoying the perfect quiet, and free-
dom from interruption. Upon each evening, she sat by her
window, until she could not distinguish the boundary between
the leaden sky and the white earth ; and the snow, she had been
brushing off all day, banked up against the glass. fe Heigho !
we dreamers have some pleasures more sensible people know
nothing about;" said she, as the tea-bell sounded the second
night. " It will seem so dark and dreary below after the society
that has cheered my sanctum I"

The ice was breaking up below, in a hail-storm, which had all
the sharpness of a conjugal " difference," without the stinging
politeness genteel people throw into their wrangles. Ida listened
and sickened and sighed. A pealing ring checked the dispu-
tants. Ida's heart fluttered, and Josephine looked up anxiously
at the footman's entrance.

" Mr. Dana, to see Miss Ross."

"Of course then, I shall not go out;" said Josephine,
haughtily.

Ida ran into the drawing-room. Oh ! I am so glad to see
you !" but his look stopped her short. You have bad news !
Carry !" she articulated, sinking into a chair.

" No : Carry and Jenny are well ; but I am come for you.
Our poor friend Lynn, is very ill."

" 111 !" said she, incredulously.

His lips quivered. " VERY ill !"

" Lynn ! brother !" A mist fell over her sight then cleared,
as one long choking sob relieved her burdened breast. Charley
raised her.

" There is no time to lose."

I am ready."

Mr. Read and Josephine came into the hall at the bustle.

Miss Ross ! may I presume to ask whither you are going,
such a night ?"

" To see a sick friend, sir !" returned Charley, as dictatorially.

l Whom sir, and where ?"

17*

198 ALONE.

" My friend, and she is under my protection /' said he, impa-
tient at the detention. A carriage was waiting. Ida asked one
question " When was he attacked ?"

" Within three hours after we parted from you. He stayed
with me at John's that night ; complained before retiring, of
thirst and chilliness; and awoke with a raging fever. The
doctors pronounce the disease inflammation of the lungs, of the
most virulent nature. He had a lucid interval this evening, and
asked for you."

She did not say, " Is there hope ?" She knew there was 1
none.

Charley exchanged a word with the servant who opened the
door, and led the way directly to the sick-chamber. Mrs. Dana
met her with a tearful embrace ; she saw no one else, but the
figure upon the bed. But for the dark circles about the eyes
and mouth, the unmistakeable signet of Death, he might have
seemed in perfect health. He appeared to be asleep, until she
stood at his pillow ; then opened his eyes upon her horror-stricken
face, and made an effort to smile.

Ida !"

" Dear Lynn 1"

His breath was short " I am almost gone. Give my fare-
well, to Ellen, I forgave and loved her to the last. Bury her
miniature with me. I have done with earth."

He closed his eyes. They brought a cordial. His wistful
glance ran around the room, and returned to her.

" What is it, dear Lynn ?"

Oh! the mournful intensity of that look! and the clammy
fingers clasped hers. " / did not think I should die so soon ! Is
Lacy here ?"

He came forward at her sign.

" I am dying I have not time to search for myself see if
there is any promise for me !"

" i Him that cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast out ;' "
repeated Mr. Lacy, instantly. " He is able also, to save unto
the uttermost all them, who come unto God by Him, seeing
He ever liveth to make intercession for them.' "

The fading eyes were re-lit with eagerness.

" Is that there ? did He say so, or did you ?"

ALONE 199

" He said it, who declares, moreover, that He is not willing
for any to perish but that all should turn and live.' "

His dying gaze was upward, and his lips moved in prayer.

To the uttermost the uttermost I" he whispered. 'Lord !
remember me, when Thou comest into Thy ' "

He sank into a stupor ; and the physician administered another
stimulant. He had besought them not to permit him to sleep
while reason lasted. One and another had come in, on hearing
of his danger, and the room was nearly filled ; but there was not a
word or loud breath, to distract the meditations of the parting soul.

Charley and Mrs. Dana were nearest him on one side, Ida and
Mr. Lacy, on the other. He looked at them fondly.

" Friends ! dear friends ! There is a friend ' " to Lacy.

He finished the sentence " That sticketh closer than a
brother."

" Yes : I remember who is able to save to the utter
most " his voice died away. When next his eyes moved, i*
was slowly and painfully ; but their restless light was not extinct
The stiffening mouth contracted.

" He says ( Pray !' " said Ida to Morton.

Every head was bowed; and the opening sentence of tho
prayer brought a deeper quiet to every heart.

" ' Lord ! Thou hast been our dwelling-place in all genera-
tions !' "

The language was simple, scriptural and fervent, the plead-
ing of a son, in behalf of a brother, with an indulgent Parent.
As he repeated the text, Lynn had dwelt upon, Ida felt the feeble
pressure of his hand ; he was alive and conscious then. The
rest arose at the " Amen." She had not knelt; but she did not
raise her head from the pillow; her soul had caught the fare-
well of his, as it flew away upon its long journey ! There was a
movement through the room a breathless pause a solemn
voice said " He is gone !" and tears and sobbings broke forth.

His hand still held hers ; and the other was folded over
them in supplication ; the eyes still looked heavenward but
they were fixed.

Dead ! dead ! in his glorious beauty in the flush of youth !
deaf to the recall of mourning hearts and the awakening
echoes of the fame his genius had won ! If he could die, who
was sure of an hour of life.

200 ALONE

CHAPTER XVII.

ELLEN MORRIS accepted an invitation to Petersburg, ere the
angry pique, aroused by Lynn's reproaches, passed off. The
promise was hardly given, when she would have revoked it, had
not pride held her to her word. Her friends were solicitous,
that the far-famed hospitality of their city should not seem to
the Richmond beauty, to have been vaunted too highly ; and she
appreciated their efforts ; but the fortnight she had named as the
period of her stay, crept slowly by. She hoped confidently to
see her lover again at her feet, when the heat of passion was over ;
yet she was wretched in the recollection of her trifling, and the
misery it had inflicted upon his high-toned spirit. Twice she
prepared to write to him, and end a suspense torturing to both,
and twice dashed down the pen in shame and pride. The
wished-for hour of departure arrived. The morning was bleak;
the snow had ceased falling, but the clouds were low and threat-
ening. Her entertainers begged her to wait but a day longer.

" If it were a matter of life and death, you could not be more
obstinate/' said her hostess, fretted at her unreasonableness.

"And how do you know that it is not?" answered she,
jestingly.

"It is no joking matter, Miss Ellen," said a young man,
gravely. " They have not cleared the snow from the track as it
ought to be done. You would feel badly to have your neck
broken."

"That is a trifle compared with a broken heart;" and she
laughed lightly.

The train started, and the shivering passengers resigned them-
selves to a comfortless ride. Ellen's escort, an elderly gentleman,
lost no time in settling his chin and ears down in the collar of
his great coat, and the rest of his body in a corner, to sleep.
She was wide-awake ; and her spirits, raised by the near prospect
of the meeting, her hopes had fed upon, for weary days and
nights, found amusement in the uncouth figures, seen by the
struggling light. She did not suffer from the cold or damp; her

ALONE. 201

pulses bounded warmly; and when tired of being a solitary
looker-on, she closed her eyes, and beguiled the time by fancies
of home and him; whether he too were repentant; if he did not
show it, rather than lose him, she could humble herself to lure
him back ; she could not be happy without the assurance of
his love. She would tell him how miserable their parting had
made her; and imagination revelled in the anticipation of the
refreshing flood, her thirsting heart would receive in return.
There were pictures of days, which should fleet by like a dream ;
when doubts and fears should be lost in perfect beatitude;
the dingy, smoky cars were metamorphosed into their cottage
home, with its music and flowers and birds, and its atmosphere
of love ; and the votaries of his divine art thronged to offer
incense to him her peerless one !

The halting of the laboring engine startled her. The drowsy
travellers gathered themselves up; and elbowing and grumbling,
rushed out. She lifted the window. They were at the Depot.
Half-frozen officials stamped their toes and blew their fingers ;
hackmen swore at their horses and the porters ; now and then,
a pair of watery eyes peered into the cars, in quest of some
expected one; but the form she looked for was not there.
" Pshaw ! how could he know when she was coming ? how silly
not to recollect this !"

" There is no cne here to meet you, Miss Ellen," said her
companion, re-entering.

" I hardly expected it, sir; if you will be so kind as to get a
carriage for me, I will not trouble you further."

Her smile thawed the old man's churlishness. He volun-
teered, his foot upon the step " to see her all the way home ;"
but she would not consent.

" I am not afraid ; this kind ' uncle' will carry me safely."

The driver scraped and grinned, although his woolly whiskers
were hoary with rime. "Pity all women can't be agreeable!"
said the escort, trudging through the drifts, to his hack. That
a gentleman of his temperament was ever otherwise, even on a
raw morning, did not occur to him.

An omnibus blocked up the street ; Ellen's carriage was
behind it, and the driver's objurgative eloquence retarded,
instead of quickening the movements of its proprietor, who wac
stowing away baggage upon the roof.

202 ALONE.

" Hallo I" cried a young man, to another, who was knocking
the snow from his boots against the curb-stone. " When did
you get in?"

"Just now. Horrid weather for March! isn't it? Any
news going ?"

" Not a bit all frozen up ah ! yes ! Lynn Holmes is dead."

" What ! not the artist ! when did it happen? I saw him on
the street a week ago another duel ?"

"No lung fever. He died night before last, after forty-
eight hours' illness."

" Shocking !"

"Ellen ! you are white as a sheet !" was Mrs. Morris' greeting.
" My dear child are you sick ?"

" No ma'am only cold oh ! so cold I"

" Come to the fire."

" I think I will lie down awhile I am chilled to the heart !"

The servant, who carried her breakfast, reported her asleep,
and the careful mother would not let them waken her. Later
in the day, she took a cup of hot coffee up to her. She was
motionless; her head covered.

" My daughter !" said Mrs. Morris, softly, drawing down the
coverlet.

She looked at her, but did not speak.

" How do you feel now?"

" I don't know, ma'am."

" You are not quite awake yet, I believe," said her mother,
smiling. " Here, drink this it will do you good."

She took it.

" By the way, my dear," continued Mrs Morris, busying her-
self with the folds of a curtain, which did not hang to suit her.
" I have melancholy news for you. Our friend, Mr. Holmes,
died suddenly, night before last. I never was more astonished
and grieved in my life. He was such a handsome, promising
young man, and so attached to us ! I said directly how sorry
you would be to hear it. You were so much together where
are the pins ? oh ! here they are ! His disease was a rapid inflam-
mation of the lungs. The funeral will take place at the church
this afternoon; some of us must go, if the weather is bad. Do
you think you will be well enough?"

ALONE. 203

" Yes ma'am."

" Well I hope so ; and now I will go down and keep the
children still, so that you can sleep."

The thunder of a thousand cannon would not have disturbed
her. She heard and saw all that passed ; but in place of heart
and sense, was a dead vacuity, empty and soundless, although it
had eugulphed thought and feeling. She went to the funeral.
Prudent, appearance-loving Mrs. Morris, dexterously flung a veil
before the stony eyes, whose tearlessness people might observe,
and wonder aloud, as she did mentally, at Ellen's want of
feeling ;" but her daughter quietly raised it. The church was
crowded. The untimely end of one so gifted and popular, thrilled
the community, as the breast of one man. All was as still as the
grave ; the roar of the busy city-life deadened by the heavy atmos-
phere and cushioned earth. The wail of a clarion stirred the
air; nearer and nearer it sounded; and the plaintive breathing
of other instruments ; and at long intervals, a single roll of the
drum ; nearer and nearer they ceased, and the procession moved
up the aisle. First walked Charles Dana and his sister-in-law,
clad in deep mourning as for a brother ; then Morton Lacy, pale
and sorrowful, and on his arm another black-robed figure, (such
privilege had Friendship above Love !) then a small band of
fellow-artists ; and the coffin ! borne and followed by the Masonic
fraternity, of which he was a member. It was set down in front
of the pulpit ; " the Book," with its drapery of black crape, laid
reverently upon it; and the service proceeded. There were
prayers and hymns and a sermon ; she heard none ; the coffin
lay in her sight his coffin ! It was not! Where then was the
vigorous life which moved the still form within it ? where the
soul of splendid imaginings and lofty aspirations ? where the
heart, with its wealth of feeling ? they could not die ! He lived
still and living, loved her. That narrow coffin was a horrible
mockery. And so, when the cover was removed, and those, who
from curiosity or affection, desired to look for the last time upon
his face, filed slowly by it, she arose too. He was there ! royally
beautiful, even in his prison-house ; the rich black locks swept
back from the marble temples; and a smile resting upon the
lips. Oh ! what power bears woman up in a moment like this 1
Her life her world was shut in with the replacing of that lid ;

204 ALONE

but she saw each screw returned to its place, without a tear or
a shudder; herself, proposed to her mother, that they should
follow the corpse to its home ; and watched them heap the snow
and clods upon it. And through that and many succeeding
nights, she stood in the attic, in cold and darkness, straining
her eyes towards where the gleaming tomb-stones were visible
in the day, and fancying she could tell which shadowed an
unsodded mound.

Charley was his friend's executor. In the fulfilment of his
trust, he found a casket marked " To be given, at my death, to
E. M." He thought of sealing it \tp, and sending it to her
with a note from himself; but decided upon further deliberation,
to entrust it to Ida. It was a painful duty. She was not able
yet to speak of Lynn without distressing emotion. His decease
was so sudden, so awful, snatched, as he was, from her very
side, with the barest intimation of his danger, after months of
intimate intercourse. She mourned for him as sisters and friends
seldom weep. Charley did not command. " She was the mors
proper person," he said; "but he would not grieve her by
enforcing the request."

" I cannot meet her !" said she. " He was so dear to us
how can I endure the sight cf her indifference? They say she
was calm and careless while they were burying him."

" Calm she certainly was ; but the glance I had at her face
assured me not careless. I am much mistaken if she was not
the greatest sufferer by that grave. I was angry with her, pre-
viously ; I believe now that she merits our compassion."

Yet it was an unwilling heart that Ida carried to the inter-
view. Ellen sent for her to come to her room. "I am busy,
you see," said she, with the ghost of a smile. Ida held the pre-
cious legacy more tightly, as she noticed her occupation. A ball-
dress was spread upon the bed, and she was fastening roses upon
the skirt. Her cheek was white, as Ida glanced at her own sad-
colored dress.

" You are going to the party to-night, then ?" said the latter.

" Yes will Josephine attend ?"

" I have not heard her gay have not inquired have not
thought of it."

Despairing of broaching the subject in any other way, she

ALONE. 205

took the casket from under her shawl, and laid it upon the
dress.

" The living forget sooner than the dead, Ellen !" was all she
said.

The unhappy girl recoiled at the familiar characters upon the
lid, and stretched out her arms with an imploring cry. Ida
reached her as she fell. She had fainted. Charley's words were
verified, and Ida blamed herself severely for her cruel abruptness.
Her tears ran fast, as she strove to restore consciousness " Oh !
Ida Lynn!" groaned Ellen, reviving. Reserve, pride, self-
control were borne down; they wept in each other's arms.
With the casket pressed to her bosom, Ellen heard his last mes-
sage, and the hopeful words he had spoken of the future, he was
not to know upon earth.

" I did love him ! Heaven is my witness I did love him !"
she cried, anguishedly. " He did not condemn me; but I can
never forgive myself! If I could have seen him once more to
tell him so ! Dead ! oh ! that I were in the grave beside him !"

This was grief without a glimmer of hope. Ida had no word
of comfort.

Ellen's eye fell upon the gossamer robe. she threw it upon the
floor, and trampled it. I hate it ! and myself, and everything
else ! I am a hypocrite ! a lying hypocrite ! with my hollow
smiles and broken heart. Leave me ! go! or I shall hate you!"

Ida left her thus writhing under the scorpion-lash of remorse,
and rejecting consolation. She met Josephine, a square or two
from home, and upon the door-step, Mr. Lacy. Admitting him,
she ran up stairs to efface the marks of her recent agitation.
Her pallor and swollen eyes remained, however, and did not
escape him. He did not begin, as many would have done, in
his place, to speak of topics entirely foreign to what was in their
thoughts; he wished to apply a curative, not an anodyne.

" Charley tells me you are going to the country, before long;"
he said. " I do not regret it, as I should if I were to stay here
myself. After the first of April, I shall study at home, until
autumn. You are to pay your friend Carry a visit, are you not ?"

"Yes."

" She is the sister' I have heard so much of?"

The same I wish you knew her."
18

206 ALONE.

"I think I do. Her cheerful society is what you need.
While it is neither possible, nor desirable to forget that we have
been bereaved, we should beware how we indulge in a luxury of
woe. Our duty to those we have lost, does not oblige us to
neglect the friends who are spared to us."

" Very few remain to ine," said Ida, tremulously.

You are wrong. You may never find one who will fill his
place; but the rest love you the more, that you are afflicted.
Charley is a true brother."

" He is and of late he is more unreserved, more affectionate
than he used to be ; his sympathy is very sweet. I must speak
of yourself, also, Mr. Lacy, although I have no language to
thank you for your kindness. I fear I have been wearisome at
times ; but you seem to understand why this was no common
bereavement to me."

" So far from being wearied, I am grateful for your confidence.
No act of mine shall cause you to repent it."

" Charley has given me some lines which he thinks were
written recently," said Ida. " They were among some loose
sheets in a portfolio of drawings. I wept over them, but they
comforted me. I have been wishing that you had them. This
is a rough copy, you observe ; and probably not read after being
penned."

Mr. Lacy' s eyes filled, as he read at the top of the page,
. M., after a visit from M. L."

"ALL IN CHRIST.

"Jesus, Saviour! from Thy dwelling,

High all stars and thrones above,
Hear my faltering accents, telling

Of weak faith and smouldering love.
Poor love for Thee, the only worthy

Dull faith in Thee, the only wise-
While to all things base and earthy,

How madly cling my wistful eyes !

I am blind ! in rough paths groping,

With outstretched hands and sightless eyes;
Through gloom so dense, I scarce am hoping

That dawn will ever gild the skies.
Black, grisly spectres hover o'er me,

Filling my quaking soul with fright;
Thou of all worlds the sun and glory,

Radiant Redeemer ! be my light.

ALONE, 207

I am lonely ! often keeping
Sad vigils o'er affections dead ;

Some in the grave's strait chamber sleeping-
Some like bursting bubbles fled !

Yet for full love my deep soul longeth
Gently each seeking tendril bend

To Thee to whom that soul belongeth ;
Loving Redeemer ! be my friend.

I am guilty ! oh how sinning !

Against my kind against my God ;
Hell and corruption ever winning

My soul into the downward road.
Insanely gloating on pollution

Quaffing thick lees for pleasures pure
Rend thou away each fell delusion,

Holy Redeemer! be my cure I"

"Do you recollect the visit to which he refers?" inquired
Ida.

"I was with him until late, one night, a week before his
death," was the reply ; " and our conversation may have inspired
the thoughts he has expressed here ; but I cannot say with cer-
tainty, that it did. If this temper of spirit and heart was habit-
ual to him, what may we not hope ?"

" If I" exclaimed Ida, sadly. " Doubt is agonizing. It is
not consistent with God's mercy that he should be consigned to
never ending misery; he whose faults made us love him better;
the soul of honor and integrity ! I will not believe that so much
that was pure and good is quenched in eternal darkness. This
thought is with me night and day. What authority have
men, his inferiors by nature hardly his equals in the practice
of virtue, to doom him, and hope a happier fate for the them-
selves ?"

" Who has done this?" asked Mr. Lacy, sternly.

" More than one, in my hearing ; and Charley was exasperated
to insult a man, a church member, who exhorted him not ' to
imitate his example, and thereby meet the same awful punish-
ment.' Charley regrets now, that he spoke rudely to one hia
senior, and whom he had hitherto respected, but says he, a
Christian should not forget that he is a man !' "

"Nor does he," replied Morton. "From some who cross the
river of Death we hear the All's Well/ when their feet touch
the solid ground ; then we may rejoice in the confident assurance
that we shall meet them again. As many pass over in timid, as

208 ALONE.

in despairing silence; timidity, exchanged for rapture, on the
bright shore beyond. God only knows the heart only knows
when the doomed oversteps the bounds He has appointed for his
rnercy ; and as we hope for it ourselves, we should tremble at the
thought of limiting it by our finite judgments. In this immea-
surable love and pity is our trust, Ida; doubts and fearings
cannot solve the mystery j we know this, however ' He doth
not afflict willingly/ and remembereth our feeble frame/ Who
pardons a child's faults more than a parent ? and Our Father'
is also his. Yet," continued he, " Charley erred in repulsing
the warning, kindly, if injudiciously extended. The suffering we
experience in our uncertainty as to his condition, should teach
us to make our salvation sure, so that when our hour shall come
if a call at midnight, we may not leave those who love us,
comfortless."

" His death has caused a heart-rending void," said Ida. " I
start whenever the door opens at the hours he was accustomed
to visit us. At Mr. Dana's, I am listening all the time for his
step or voice. Oh ! why do nonentities, cumberers of the earth,
spin out a tiresome life, and the loved and useful perish ?"

" Perhaps they are taken away from the evil to come. You
would not rebel if you believed this ? At best, what are the
short years of toil and change we pass below, compared with the
never-ending life of our heavenly home ?"

" You forget that I have no portion in that home, Mr. Lacy."

" No portion ! You do not mean to refuse an inheritance so
graciously offered ! It may be long before we have another oppor-
tunity to speak of these things ; will you make me a promise ?"

" If I can perform it ; " answered she.

" It is that you will every day, ask yourself, What happiness
does my soul desire that Christ cannot, and will not bestow ?'
Will you do this ?"

She promised.

" It seems impossible," he pursued, " that a sorer trial than
that which you are now undergoing, can befall you ; yet there
may be such in reserve, and then, I would have you recollect,
that as He is the only happiness, He is also the only comfort.
Willingly gladly as I would suffer in your stead, I would not
save you a pang, if I thought it was His means to bring you t.o
Himself."

ALONE. 209

He spoke with emotion, as if possessed with the conviction
that the event he adverted to would assuredly take place ; and
that this was his sole chance of preparing her for it. He arose
she gave him her hand it was taken as silently, and -held for
a long minute.

" This is not our parting," said he ; " if we both live, I shall
see you again soon, but to provide against contingencies, I will
ask you now to write to me ; I mean, of course, in answer to my
letters, as you would to Charley to a brother, will you ?"

" Yes, if your letters are as frank as your speech, and I am
granted a like indulgence."

True to his promise, he called upon the eve of her departure,
but the presence of the family and other visitors prevented
private conversation ; and Charley's manoeuvres, ekilful and un-
suspected as they were, failed to effect a diversion of Josephine's
watchfulness. Yet as they said " farewell " Ida felt a card
slipped into her hand. Upon it was pencilled, " Remember
your promise. Mizpah."

CHAPTER XVIII.

LIFE at Poplar-grove was much as it had been, the previous
summer; still and bright. The mornings were spent in Carry's
pleasant sewing-room, from which male visitors were rigorously
excluded ; in the afternoon, were the siesta, and ride or walk ;
at night, music and social chat. Carry feared that this monotony,
while it suited her wishes and employments, might be less
agreeable to her friend; that she would miss the gay whirl, the
intoxicating incense of her city career. But Ida was contented,
even happy. Beloved and caressed by the whole household, in
the home of kindred tastes and feeling ; and above all, with the
firm hope that her life-long search was at last ended ; her wild
cravings laid to rest beneath the waves, which welling from the
unsealed fountain, had risen higher and higher, until her soul
was overflowing with love and rapture; she revelled in the
quiet hours of friendly communion, and the sweeter seasons of
witching reverie. Carry knew nothing of the spring of her
18*

210 ALONE.

happiness. She saw that her mind had acquired a more healthy
tone ; that her affections had expanded, and attributed it to
the influence of friendship ; to a strength of mind, which had
determined the world should be what it chose to have it ; to
anything but the true cause, an idolatry that left no room for
suspicion or discontent. Once Carry alluded to the twilight
promenade, when Ida had told her of her forebodings of the
wane of their love, after the nuptials, which were now fast
approaching ; and was answered by a warm embrace and smile,
which said those fears were quelled, and might have betrayed to
more prying eyes, the enchantment that had exorcised them.
Her evening improvisations entranced, not only the parlor-circle,
but drew to the windows a larger audience from without, spell-
bound by her heart-melodies. All her delight was not in memory.
Letters came and went; from Charley and Mrs. Dana; and
gossiping notes from Anna Talbot and other of " the girls."
These, Carry enjoyed with her, and asked no questions about
those which she did not see. Morton's were what he engaged
they should be ; sincere and friendly, without a hint that could
alarm her delicacy. They were tinctured with a sadness, she
did not comprehend, until she noticed his many references to
his sister's sufferings, and his anxiety on her account. .It was
her turn to console; and her most valued treasure was the
letter, in which he thanked and blessed her.

Carry was to be married the last of July. The middle of
June brought Mrs. Dana and the children, under Charley's
protection. For the week of his stay, he was the life of the
house. One cloud was upon the spirits of all; Lynn was
missed and mourned, and by none, with more sorrowful tender-
ness, than by his vivacious friend ; but he was unselfish even
in this. Ida could win him to speak of their loss ; to the others,
he never mentioned it of his own accord. She was correct in
saying that he had grown more communicative and affectionate.
He seemed to have transferred to her the watchful love that had
been Lynn's safeguard and solace.

" Nothing changes you, Mars' Charley?" said Uncle Ike,, the
plantation patriarch, halting at the piazza steps one afternoon,
when he had crawled out into the sunshine.

" I should like to say the same for you, Uncle Ike ; time and
sickness have not treated you as well as you deserve."

ALONE. 211

" Better'n I desarve, Mars' Charles ! heap better'n I desarve !
Time for me to be packed and shoed for my journey. I'se lived
in these low-grounds of sorrow, nigh 'pon ninety years, and
many' the young folks I've seen step down into the grave before
me. When I heard that poor, handsome Mars' Lynn had gone
too, 'pears-like I was ready to grumble 'cause 'twant me but
'twas the Almighty's will, Mars' Charles, 'twas his will. It
'joices me to see you so well and lively jest like you used to be.
You don't take trouble, I reckon, Marster."

" No; it's against my principles; beside, we'll have a plenty
given to us."

"Fact, Marster! You aint knowed much yet; but 'the evil
days will come, when you shall say, I have no pleasure in
them !' "

Charley kept his seat upon the step for some time after the
old man had gone : once he sighed heavily. Ida was in the
parlor, and longed to go out to him, for she guessed the tenor
of his thoughts, but doubted the propriety of intruding upon
them. He got up, presently, and began to walk the porch,
whistling an opera air. Spying her through the window, he
came in. "You are ruining your eyes and health with this
eternal stitching ;" said he. " As I live, you are boring holes
in that piece of cloth, for the pleasure of sewing them up again !
No wonder woman's work is never ended ! What are you
making ?"

" A handkerchief." She displayed the corner, in which she
was embroidering, " Carry Carleton."

" Where are the others ?" he inquired.

" Mrs. Dana is in the nursery'; Carry asleep ; Dr. Carleton
and Arthur abroad."

"Come, walk with me !" requested he. Any handkerchief,-
a wedding mouchoir can wait an hour."

Their course was along the brink of a deep ravine ; over-
shadowed by large old trees ; and bridged by fallen trunks.
The sides were grass-grown, and at the bottom rolled the rivulet,
which had fretted out the gorge ; blending its complainings with
the low rush of the wind through the forest.

So one feeling often wears away the soul !" remarked
Charley, reflectively. " Man is but clay after all !"

212 ALONE.

" You ! the champion of your species turning against them !"
exclaimed Ida.

" No. I am still an unbeliever in the total corruption of our
nature ; a doctrine so opposed to reason and experience, that I
will never assent to it, if it is preached at me until doomsday.
But this is a miserably .unsatisfactory life \"

" Yet the world says you enjoy it."

" And do you, an adept in concealment, credit a man's outward
show?"

"At least, I do not practise this accomplishment upon my
friends ;" replied Ida, piqued.

" Did I say that you did ? I am not sure that I could not
prove this point, too ] but we will let it pass for the present.
I believe you to be what you appear to me. Carry would never
forgive one who impugned your sincerity ; and what would Mr.
Gerrnaine say ?"

This was a gentleman of the neighbourhood, whose marked
attentions to Ida subjected her to the raillery of the Poplar-
grove household.

" Nonsense I" said she, laughing. " He has never been
beyond the outermost court of my heart."

" I own his does not appear likely to be the hand to unlock
the penetralia. This is the spot I wanted to show you. Is it
not a fairy nook ?"

It was a mossy bank at the foot of a venerable sycamore, from
whose branches the trailing vines touched their heads. A spring
of the clearest crystal bubbled among its roots.

Oh ! for a fairy goblet 1" said Ida.

"It is easily made, if these leaves are large enough," answered
Charley. He gathered some, but they were too irregularly-
shaped to suit his purpose. " It is a simple process," said he,
as he failed, after several trials, to convey a thimbleful of water
to his amused companion ; " but as the man said who tried to
fly and couldn't 'there is every thing in knowing how to do it.'
I never like to be outdone, even in trifles. I saw some leaves as
we came along that I know will do excuse me a moment, and
I will get them."

He was gone before she could object; and she strolled idly
around the giant trunk of the sycamore, admiring the al fresco

ALONE. 213

boudoir, of which it was the centre ornament. She set her foot
upon something harder than the soft carpet it was a small
morocco case, which she picked up, with an ejaculation of sur-
prise, and without a thought of who had dropped it, opened.
She had nearly let it fall, as Carry's lovely face smiled at her
from within. " Arthur has been here," was her comment, but
a glossy curl untwined itself from an envelope labelled in Charley's
hand " The seat under the honeysuckle. May ls, 18 ," a
date four years back. There was no impropriety in his having
Carry's likenesss; they had long been in feeling what they
were shortly to become in name brother and sister ; but her
heart beat so with indefinable terror that she could not stand ;
it was as though, instead of the senseless case, another heart, its
every throbbing revealed, lay in her hand.

" You are tired waiting, I suppose, but I had a longer search
than"

The glow of a stormy sunset rushed to his face as he saw the
miniature she did not attempt to conceal. She had never con-
ceived of the dormant passion which now awoke in his eye and
form ; but she did not quail.

" I found this over there, and opened it thoughtlessly, not
suspecting what it was or to whom it belonged. I am very
sorry."

The storm passed while she was speaking. The man's wonder-
ful self-command was master. He dipped up the water with a
careful hand ; the leafy cup did not quiver.

"Do you like it? is it cool ?"

" Yes thank you."

He drank draught after draught himself, threw away the leaves,
and resumed his seat upon the bank.

" There is no help for it, Ida ! you must hear what I did not
intend you ever should ; not that I disdain your sympathy, but
it is a rule with me not to disturb my friends with troubles, which
they cannot alleviate. T do not know what suspicions have been
forced upon youj if they are of the honor and affection I owe my
brother, or of Tier fidelity to him, they are groundless. That
picture was painted for me before I had any intimation that his
was the prize I foolishly hoped to secure. I relinquished her j
out this is the amulet which has saved me in many temptations.

214 ALONE.

Although hope was no more, memory remained ; and vice could
not mate with the visions of purity that memory recalled. There
has not been a time since I first saw her, a laughing babe, just
liberated from her nurse's arms, when I have not loved her more
than any other earthly being. As boy and man I have thought,
studied, labored for her alone. When I quitted home to seek
my fortune, she was still a child, who clung weepingly to me,
and kissed me as fondly as she did her father. It was the last
time ! At my next visit she was away at school ; at the second
I obtained that curl. She was then fifteen; innocent and loving,
full of jesting surprise at Charley's mannish ways/ and hurt
that I would not call her ' sister.' She did not ask this the
ensuing summer. Lynn was with me ; and in the confidence of
a hope that saw no cloud ahead, I imparted to him my dreams
and desires, and engaged him to take her portrait secretly. I
went back to New York, and wrote to her father, asking his
sanction of the proposal I could not delay. The letter was upon
my desk, ready for the post, when one arrived from Arthur. He
was not to blame for his silence , I had been as reserved to him j
but he entreated my forgiveness for hiding this, his only secret,
from me. She knew it now ; her father's only objection was
their youth a ( fault,' he remarked, jocosely, which will mend
with time.' In place of the letter to my guardian, I forwarded
one to my brother, congratulating him upon his happy engage-
ment to the woman I idolized. He is worthy of her, if a mortal
can be. I can see that it is best. He has talents and energy,
and loves her as she should be loved I am rough and eccentric,
caring and striving for nothing, now that my guiding star has set "

" Charley ! Charley ! you shall not so defame yourself !" cried
Ida bursting into tears. " You the kindest most generous
of men ! you are worthy of her ! Oh ! I wish it could be I"

" Hush ! hush ! I would not have it otherwise. I came home
last summer, and saw them together without a pang of selfish
regret ; and gloried in my subjugation of a passion their betrothal
made sinful, until our ride to the Castle.' My arm saved her
from mutilation or death, and instead of thanksgiving, sprang
up a horrible envy, that I had rescued her for him. It was
momentary, but the repentance was bitter. I abhor myself
when I think of it. I have never fancied since that I did not

ALONE. 215

lore her. I know it as well now that another month will
make her his bride, as I did when hope was highest. Poor Lynn !
it grieved him to his dying day !"

Silence and tears was a fitting reply to this narration. It
came to Ida, like sudden death to a festival ; producing not only
sorrow and dismay, but a trembling insecurity an awful whis-
per "Who next?" Did human love, then, always terminate
in misery ? Was there no remedy ? She wanted Charley to speak
again, and say that he had some source of comfort; or at least,
strength for the last, greatest trial. His words put this hope to
flight.

"I have borne as much as I can; if it be cowardly to avert
further suffering, I am not brave. I have business in the West
next month, which could, but shall not be postponed. John will
not know of it in time to provide a substitute. Arthur will be
disappointed; I would spare him this trifling pain, if I were cer-
tain that I should not give him more by remaining. I shall not
wear this after the marriage I may become a castaway without
it, for aught I know. When Lynn died, I said, My secret is
buried with him.' I have committed what the Machiavelis of
the day would call an unwise act," added he, smiling ; ' consigned
it to the keeping of a woman' but I have no fears for its safety
with you. Do not let it prey upon your spirits. I would not
saution a less sympathetic nature. Be happy, Ida, it is your
manifest destiny ; and I am still disinterested enough to rejoice
with those who do rejoice.' The sun is setting you shall not
go to the house with that woe-begone face. Smile ! or I don't
stir."

He laughed at her attempt. " Rather hysterical, with that
sob treading upon its heels ; but it will do. Come, sister !"

Ida could have cried more heartily at an expression and
tone, that reminded her of Lynn ; but he was resolute in not
allowing it.

Carry was upon the piazza. " My dear friends !" cried she,
running to meet them. " Where have you been ! here's a house
full of company, and I have sent scouts in every direction. Did
not you hear Dr see them?"

" f I heard the owls scream, and the crickets cry ;' " said
Charley. "Who is here, that we can prefer to each other's
society ?"

216 ALONE.

" Your forest ramble has taught you gallantry. You'll find
him but a dull scholar, Ida why, there are Messrs. Faulkner,
Kuston and G-ermaine, impatiently waiting the belle's appear-
ance."

" Irresistible more irresistible most irresistible ! Are you
going off to beautify, Miss Ida? Don't hurry I will tell them
we got lost or drowned in the woods."

When the girls went down, it was candle-light j and the
" Irresistibles" were laughing themselves black in the face, over
the piano, and the "funniest of fellows," who was entertaining
them by an original parody upon " Oh no ! I never mention
her !"

CHAPTER XIX.

CHARLEY departed, and for several days, Ida disregarded his
injunction of cheerfulness. She liked the warm-hearted, reliable
Arthur; but she was unjust in her vexation at his happiness,
when she pictured the lonely brother, who had sacrificed his, to
preserve it unabated. Her conscience reproached her for a dis-
play of this impatience, while they were watching the receding
form of their visitor. Arthur linked her arm in his, saying
playfully, " Come, cousin Ida, tell us what made you and my
rattling brother so sober this morning. You parted as if you
did not expect to meet again in this world. Is there any hope
of my claiming nearer kinship ?"

With a quick, fretful gesture she broke from him ; and although
she recovered herself immediately, and answered pleasantly, he
was amazed and wounded, and never repeated the familiarity.
A letter from Mr. Lacy came opportunely to brighten the cur-
rent of thought. She wished Charley could read it ; but as this
was not to be, she embodied its sentiments in her reply to a
communication she had received from him. She was in the
habit of moralising speculatively ; and he had no clue to betray
from what quarter this practical strain had emanated.

John arrived a week before the marriage, with intelligence
that set the house in a turmoil ; Charley had started to Missouri

ALONE. 217

that morning. He "was the bearer of his excuses and the
bridal gift." Carry wept ; and Arthur was indignant ; Dr.
Carleton proposed a postponement, which was unanimously voted
for by the servants. "Twouldn't be no wedding wuth talking
about, 'thout Mars' Charles was thar !" The motion was strenu-
ously opposed by a minority of three John, Ida and Arthur;
John asserting, in his business way, that the ceremony could
be performed as well without the absentee ; and that his example
of punctuality in keeping engagements should be improved. The
two others deprecated a change, without distinctly stating their
reasons. They carried the day. Poplar-grove was visible for
miles around, on the moonless night of the bridal. Lights blazed
in every window ; starry festoons depended from the trees ; and
in the garden, the glow-worm fairies might have been celebrating
the royal birth-night. In doors, the scene was one of bewilder-
ing beauty. Fairies of mortal mould flitted through the summer
bowers, at whose decoration, Flora must have presided in person.
Carry was too modest to covet display ; but Dr. Carleton was
wealthy and liberal ; and Ida and Mrs. Dana, who were both
fond of splendor and excitement, had his hearty concurrence in
their designs. The former planned everything. It was a new
business to her ; but she struck out boldly, copying a gorgeous
conception of her fertile brain, guided solely by her eye and
judgment. Her subordinates marvelled at first; but had too
much faith in her to rebel ; and as the idea was developed, their
industry and delight surpassed her expectations. When com-
pleted, the effect was so novel and pleasing, they were ready to fall
down and worship her; and more cultivated taste did not derogate
from their eulogistic approbation. Dr. Carleton thanked her with
moistened eyes; Arthur laughingly wondered " what talent next ?
her versatile genius kept him in a state of perpetual wonderment ;"
but Carry's silent kiss was dearer praise than all. As first brides-
maid, and an inmate of the mansion, Ida was virtually mistress of
the ceremonies; Mrs. Dana confining her attention to the arrange-
ment of the banquet, dressing-rooms and chambers. Carry had
invited all of her schoolmates who were within reach ; among those
who came, were Anna Talbot, Emma Glenn, Ellen Morris, who was
staying at Mr. Truman's, and our old friend Celestia ; " cousin
Lucindy" being again conveniently remembered. The three first
19

218 ALONE

named, were bridesmaids. Ida walked with Mr. Euston ; and
as the train formed, she thought of the two who would have
taken precedence of him ; of the chilly sleep of the pulseless
heart, and the desolation of the living one; while the irrevo-
cable words were said, she heard, like the echo of a knell
'caring for nothing, striving for nothing- -now that my guidiug
star has set ;" and the sigh, which contended with her smile of
salutation to the bride, was "poor Charley!"

Ellen Morris, too, may have had her reminiscences ; this
event could not but revive the recollection of her sister's bridal,
not a year before ; but the sparkling hazel orbs were unshadowed
;isthen; her manner as charmingly coquettish. Celestia had
not forgotten Mr. Euston ; and seized an early opportunity to
renew their flirtation. The gentleman was not so willing; he
was not exactly in love with his partner; but was not insensible
to her attractions, and that in his position he was envied by most
of the single men present cordially hated by one. Ida knew
not that he was taxing every energy to achieve fascination. She
felt the nervousness of a youthful hostess that things should "go
off" well ; the company be pleased with their reception and them-
selves; conscious, that although the praise or censure might not
be put upon her, yet in reality the result depended upon her
exertions. Solicitude yielded to triumphant satisfaction, as the
electric sympathy spread, leaping from tongue to tongue ; and
evolving, in dazzling coruscations, from kindling eyes. She did
not seek her reward then, but she had it. Few were so blind
and ungrateful, as not to recognise her hand in the pleasures
offered to them. The girls, the most fastidious of the various
classes for whose whims a party-giver has to cater, forgave her
magnet influence upon the choicest beaux, as they were them-
selves well-supplied notwithstanding; the old people were charmed
with her respectful affability ; and of her immediate attendants,
there was not one who was not convinced that he contributed
most to her amusement.

Ill-nature is indigenous to all soils, and spite creates its own
food ; 'and she did not escape wholly unscathed. She overheard
the epithets, "flirt," and "dashing," in the same breath with
her name ; but she laughed at the silly shot. If she flirted, no
one was offended or injured ; if she dashed, she did it with a

ALONE. 219

grace her maligners-iried vainly to copy. As she left the supper-
room, a glance at the hall-mirror showed that her hcad-dresa
was disordered ; and she repaired to the dressing-room to rectify
it. She paused before the glass there, in unfeigned wonder at
the reflected figure. It was the first time a spark of personal
vanity had ever inflamed her mind. She knew that she was
admired; she believed, because she amused people by her
sprightly repartee ; compliments upon her appearance were for-
gotten as soon as heard, leaving, as their only trace, contempt
for their author. To-night, the thoughtful eyes were alive with
light; the cheeks, usually colorless, as rosy as Carry's; and the
wreathing smile imparted a wondrous beauty to the proud lips.
A softer, sweeter happiness succeeded the girlish exultation
pardonable since it was short-lived she turned from the mirror,
with indifference, as she murmured

" Young, loving and beloved!
These are brief words, but "

An exclamation interrupted the quotation. She snatched up a
letter from the table. " It must have come this afternoon, and
they forgot to give it me. How unkind !" This was too public
a place, there was constant passing in and out; but she could
not be debarred its perusal until the guests' departure. A closet
opened beyond the chamber ; she carried a lamp in thither, and
bolted the door. He wrote kindly, but more constrainedly than
formerly; and the sense of some phrases was confused, as if he
had commenced them, meaning to say one thing, and changed
his mind ere th-3 conclusion. His sister had been very ill, he
said, but was now out of danger; and his statement of this
simple fact appeared embarrassed. She read two pages in per-
plexity whether to chide his ambiguity, or her unsettled
thoughts; "And now, my dear friend," so ran the third, "1
have to solicit indulgence for my egotism, while I speak of an
event of incomparable importance and than which, nothing was
more remote from my thoughts, four months ago. Annie has
another nurse besides myself this summer; an early playmate ot
ours, a gentle girl, who, I think, must resemble your friend
Carry, in character and person. She visited Annie early in
April; and an angel of healing she has proved to our beloved
sufferer. It is an affecting sight one so young and fair, desert-

220 ALONE.

ing the society she would adorn, for the wearisome offices of a
sick-room. I have said that she is gentle, and in disposition
and deportment essentially feminine; add to these, the intelli-
gence aud accomplishments of a strong and thoroughly-trained
mind ; and you will not be surprised that she has gained our
hearts; will not accuse me of precipitancy, when you bear that
I have sought and obtained her promise to return to us, united
by a dearer tie than the bonds of friendship. I do not merit
this gift at the hands of Providence; for I have rebelled, in times
past, at the strokes I knew were just, but could not acknowledge
were merciful. There is nothing earthly which can compare
with the love of a true-hearted woman. If I ever needed an
incentive to industry 1 have it in this. Months years, perhaps
must elapse before our union. It may be said, I have not
acted prudently in forming an engagement, whose consumma-
tion is so distant ; but I have obeyed the voice of my heart and
conscience."

Aye ! crumple the sheet in your grasp, and sink to the earth
a crushed thing! struck down from the zenith of your pride and
bliss Crushed and mangled but living and feeling! Grief
does not always stun it seldom kills you must live, although
each lacerated heart-string is crying out for death ! Say not that
it came without warning! Was there no voice in your early
bereavement in the stern lessons of your girlhood in the frus-
tration of an hundred cherished purposes in Lynn's suicidal
madness in Ellen's remorse in Charley's withered heart?
Why wers you made to feel, see, know these, if not to teach
you, that they who lean upon mortal's love trust to the weakest
of rotten reeds they " who sow the wind, must reap the whirl
wind " black, bitter, scorching !

ALONE. 221

CHAPTEK XX.

" I NEVER thought you unreasonable before, Ida."

" I am sorry you should now, Carry."

" How can I help it, when after travelling with us for weeks
you suddenly resolve to return to Eastern Virginia by yourself;
and to that lonesome place in the country, which you have not
visited for years!"

" I have an escort ; a gentleman who is on his way to Rich-
mond, and will take charge of me."

11 But why this notion, just as we decided to go north ? Has
your curiosity to behold Niagara diminished since your sight of
'the Bridge?'"

" Frankly and truly, I do not care to see it. I would not
ride to the House Mountain yonder, if Mont Blanc, the Lake of
Como, and the Great Fall were to be seen from the other side."

" Do you hear that, Arthur?" said Carry, despairingly, to hei
husband, who was reading.

"No what is it?"

" This obstinate young lady is about to deprive us of the
honour of her company. She is going back to Staunton to-
morrow."

" To the Lunatic Hospital ?" inquired Arthur, putting aside
his book. "You are not in earnest, Ida? Are you tired of
us j or do you dislike our sketched route ? If the last, we will
alter it."

" And if the first, we will alter ourselves," interposed Carry,
laughingly.

I would have you and your plans remain as they are. I am
not well, and require rest not change. My desire to see old
Sunnybank is not a caprice, as Carry supposes ; I have had it in
contemplation for a long time. Mr. Head deterred me from it
by representations of the discomfort I would encounter; the
only white man left on the plantation being the overseer. This
Bummer he has been removed, and his place given to a former
19*

222 ALONE.

tenant of mother's; a man of family; and the accommodations,
which serve for them, will keep me from hardship."

" She is sick," said Carry, when Ida retired. " She has not
been herself lately. Were it not that she is used to dissipation,
I should think that the round of parties, after our wedding, over-
tasked her strength. Yet, she enjoyed them."

" Her maladv may be of the mind," said Dr. Dana, thought-
fully. " Do you consider this probable ?"

" Oh, no ! she was well and happy when she came to us; and
what can have occurred since to affect her ?"

" You are right, I dare say;" returned he, absently. He was
pondering upon her behaviour after Charley's departure.

Argument did not dissuade, and conjecture was baffled in the
effort to explain this unexpected movement. They parted in
Lexington Ida to recross the mountains eastward; they, to
travel north by way of Harper's Ferry.

If there is an enjoyment, which is purely of the intellect, its
usurpation is man's high prerogative ; the sticklers for woman's
"equal rights" will never establish her title to it. The mind
masculine may be nourished and exercised, and attain its full
size, while the heart is dwarfed and sickly; as with twin
children, one sometimes grows to man's stature, healthy and
strong ; and the other pines and dies in childhood. In woman,
intellect and the affections are united from their birth ; like
the Siamese brothers, one refuses food, which is denied its com-
panion ; and who dare peril the life of both by severing the
ligament which joins them ?

Ida's route was through the garden-spot of our State the
magnificent Valley, with its heaven-bathed, impregnable eyries,
among which our country's Father selected a resting-place
for Freedom's standard America's Thermopylae, should the
invader's power drive him from every other hold ; where one
may travel for days, encircled by the Briarean arms, the sister
ridges stretch, in amity, towards each other each rolling its
streams and clouds down to the verdant plains between ; where
morning and evening, the sun marshals his crimson and gold-
colored array upon the purple heights, which are coeval with
him and Time ; and flings shadows and hues athwart them, in
his day's march, he never vouchsafes to Lowland countries j

ALONE. 223

and this region was traversed with not a thought beyond a
feverish wish to be at her journey's end and rest. She stopped
in Richmond but one night. Mr. Read and his daughter were
out of town, and she went to a hotel. At dawn she was upon
the road, with no attendant but the driver of her hack. Rachel
had gone to Sunnybauk a month before, to see her relations,
little expecting her mistress to come for her. Ida's spirits and
health declined alarmingly, now that the necessity of eluding
suspicion was over. She had never been sick a day in her life;
but she began to feel that mental ills may be aggravated by
bodily disease. The unnatural tension had been maintained too
long. When Sunnybank appeared, she was unable to raise her
head to look at it. The negroes flocked out at the phenomenon
of a travelling carriage in the disused avenue; and loud were
their astonishment and compassion, as they recognised its
occupant.

" I have come home to die, mother," said she, as they lifted
her out, and fainted in their arms. In the midst of their con-
sternation, the family pride of the faithful underlings was
stubborn. " Their young mistress should not be carried to the
overseer's;" and Aunt Judy, the keeper of the keys, hurried off
to unlock the house doors. Ida had a cloudy remembrance of
awakening in her mother's chamber, and of a gleaming fancy,
that she was once more a child, aroused from a horrid, horrid
dream, then her senses forsook her, and there was a wide hiatus
in memory. It was night when she awoke again ; she was in
the same room; a fire burned in the chimney, and cast fan-
tastic shapes upon the ceiling. Crouched in the corner of the
fire-place, was a dusky figure, whose audible breathing sounded
loudly through the apartment. Her slumbers were not very
profound, however, for she sprang up at the fesble call
"Rachel!"

" Miss Ida ! honey! what do you want?"

" How long have I slept ? my head feels so strange !"

" That's because you've been sick, honey."

" What is the matter with me ?"

Fever, dear you caught it in them dreadful mountains,
and have been laid up for four weeks. But you'll git well, now
you were out of your head 'most all the time and the doctor
says you mustn't talk."

224 ALONE.

Ida desisted, too weak to disobey. "With vague curiosity, ste
followed her with her eyes, as she smoothed the counterpane,
pushed up the bed on one side, and patted it down on the other;
then she put the "chunks" together upon the hearth, and there
was the clinking of spoons and glasses at a table.

" Here's your drink, Miss Ida," she said, lifting her head
with a care that proved her a practised nurse. It was cool and
palatable, and the heavy lids sank in natural slumber.

Mr. Grant (the overseer) and his wife had not been remiss in
their duty to the sick girl. She had the best medical attendance
the county afforded ; and Mr. Read was written to at the com-
mencement of the attack ; the letter was unanswered probably
not received. Rachel was " sure Miss Jenny or Miss Carry
would come in a minute, if they knew she was sick;" but was
ignorant of the address of either. Their nursing might have
been more skilful, but it could not have exceeded hers in tender-
ness. She took turns with Mrs. Grant in watching, but she
never left the room except for her meals. She was amply repaid
for her labor of love by the improvement which henceforward
was apparent in her patient. Her raptures awoke no responsive
harmony in Ida's bosom.

Her physician was a son of Mr. Hall, the old minister, who
had gone to his rest.

" You must exert yourself, Miss Ida," said he. " Have you
walked yet ?"

"No, sir."

"Cannot you do it?"

"I don't know, indeed, sir."

"But, my dear child, nature cannot do everything; we must
aid her. It is as binding upon us to save our own lives, as those
of others."

" When they are worth saving."

"You want more powerful tonics than any I have;" said the
doctor, eyeing her curiously. " I must think your case over.
I command you to walk across the room twice to-day, three
tLnes to-morrow, and so on. See that she minds me, Rachel !"

Rachel gave her no peace, until she consented to sit up awhile
in the easy-chair, by the window. Sunuybank was sadly changed.
Ihe buildings and enclosures were in good repair, and the fields

ALONE. 225

cultivated ; but the walks and shrubbery were neglected ; and
the garden, into which Ida was looking, overgrown with high
weeds. Here and there a rose-tree struggled for a foothold, a
scanty growth of yellow leaves clinging to the mossy stems ; the
sweetbrier still hung over the window, its long, bare arms rat-
tling in the cold wind like fleshless bones; the tangled grass in
the yard had run to seed, and piles of dead leaves were heaped
against the palings. She could not see the grave-yard ; she
knew, though, that the willows were leafless, and how the sprays
were waving in their melancholy dance, and whispering their old
song "Alone!" If alone then, how now? sick dying, per-
haps ! where were those who had proudly borne the name of
friend ? where the sister, in whose bosom she had lain for
months, and eased her sorrows and heightened her joys ? the
brother, she had averred, was " all kindness and truth ?" and
oh ! where he, who had filled her heart to the brim with the
rich, red wine of life, to change, in a moment, to fiery, deadly
poison ! She felt no resentment against him ; she was too
utterly broken-hearted, she thought, even if she had cause ; and
she had not. Her wilful self-deception had been her snare;
instead of studying his heart, she had judged it by her own.
Were his candor bis undisguised interest in her welfare, tokens
of love, that ever seeks concealment? No ! he had tried to lead
her, a wayward child, to the paths of happiness; and she had
seen nought but the hand which pointed the way. There was
prophetic meaning in Lynn's eye, when he spoke of " the finest
growth of heart and soul, which you flattered yourself were climb-
ing heavenward, twining with strengthening tendrils around the
altar of that one love !" She had been impious enough to ima-
gine that she was imbibing a fondness for holy things ; her heart
had burned within, her, as he talked of the loved theme; she
had read the Scriptures, and prayed, in words, for light and
guidance. And by the fierce rebellion which fired her breast--
rebellion against hatred of the Being, this lip service had blas-
phemed, she knew that she had never bowed in soul to Him;
and her heart broken, though she said it was, trusting still
adoring still the mortal, through the great love she bore him
yet reared itself in angry defiance, saying to the Chastener, " I
will not submit "' What had she done, to be left desolate

226 ALONE.

comfortless in the spring-time of life ! " He is, they tell me,
merciful and all-powerful ; let Him give me back my love, and
I will believe in Him." And as day by day passed, and there
were no tidings of Carry or the Danas, she felt a morose com-
placency in the confirmation of her hard thoughts of them, and
in repeating, "I am not humbled yet!"

" Uncle Will wants to know if he can come in to see you,
Miss Ida," said Rachel, one Sabbath afternoon.

Ida was dressed, and rocking herself listlessly before the fire.
" Let him come," she replied, languidly.

This man was her mother's steward and factotum; a hale,
fine-looking negro; better educated than the generality of hia
caste, and devotedly pious. He brushed off a tear with the
back of his hand, as his mistress greeted him. He had not-
seen her since she was grown, and was moved by her likeness to
her mother.

" You would not have known me, would you, uncle Will ?"
she asked.

"Yes ma'am; you are your mother's own child."

" Indeed ! I am called like my father."

" You're like her, ma'am in body, and like her in spirit, too
I hope."

"No, Uncle Will, you cannot expect that; ehe was an.
angel."

" Better than that, Mistis she was a Christian !"

" And how is that better ?" said Ida, surprised at the reply.
" She is an angel now is she not ?"

" No ma'am ; she is one of the spirits of the just made perfect ;
and according to my notion, that's better than to be a born
seraph. Angels may praise and glorify the Lamb, but they
haven't so much to be thankful for as we."

" I do not understand you. They have been happy from all
Eternity; and those who have lived in this world, have had
sorrow and pain and sin mourning all their days.' "

"They needn't, ma'am

'Why should the children of a King
Go mourning all their days?' "

said Will readily " He holds us up under whatever trouble we
have ; unless we bring it upon ourselves by our transgressions,

A L O N E . 227

and He will deliver us then, if we call to Him. Thi; Saviour
is the Christian's glory and song He didn't die for angels."

Ida mused. " There is a question I wish to ask you," said
she. " God can do as He pleases; can He not?"

" Certainly, Mistis ' He worketh according to the counsel
of His own will.' "

" And He is very pitiful and gracious ?" she continued.

"Like as a father pitieth his children, Mistis."

" Then when He knows that we are miserable and sinful and
helpless, why does not He take pity on us, and make us good
and happy ?"

" He will, ma'am."

" But He does not. He only waits for us to love anything,
before He robs us of it. So far from liking to see us happy, it
would seem that He grudged us the poor crumbs we picked up
of ourselves."

" Because they ain't good for us, Mistis."

" Why did He allow us to take them, then ? why wait, until
we have tasted and found them sweet, before He snatches them
away ?"

" I remember, Mistis, when you were a little thing, no higher
than my knee, you were mightily taken with some red peppers
growing in the garden. Your mother called you away from the
bed, four or five times, and ordered you not to touch them. By
and by I spied you running down the walk towards them, when
you thought she didn't see you ; and I was starting in a hurry
to fetch you back, but she stopped me. ' No, Will !' says she,
1 the punishment sin brings with it, is remembered longer than
a hundred warnings. She will have a useful lesson.' I was
loath to have you hurt; but I had to mind her. Your lesson
was right hard ; for your mouth and face and hands were swelled
and burning for hours. But you didn't go near the pepper-bed
again. And it seems to me, ma'am, that the Almighty treats
us just so. We run crazy after things, that are like the red
peppers, pretty outside, but hot as fire when we get to playiug
with them. He doesn't push us towards them EG lets us alone ;
and we are mighty apt to run to Him, after we've got a fair taste.
You didn't know but your mother would whip you for disobey-
ing her; butyouwei.t straight to her when you felt the smart"

228 ALONE.

" This does not follow, of course, uncle Will. I have tasted
some hot peppers since those days; and I cannot see any mercy
or use in the lesson."

"Maybe you haven't asked an explanation, ma'am.'*

" From whom ? from you ?"

" No ma'am ! From Him, unto whom belong the deep things
of the Almighty. And if He doesn't show you their meaning
now He will, sometime. Children are often puzzled at their
parents' dealings."

As he was leaving, she observed his wistful look.

" Have you any requests to make, uncle Will ? you will not
ask anything unreasonable, I know."

" I hope riot, ma'am. You see we've been in the habit of
holding our Sunday night prayer-meetings in the basement-room,
under this. We used to meet there in your mother's time. She
had the room fixed on purpose for us. When it's clear weather,
in summer, we meet out-doors; it's getting- cool now "

"And you are afraid of disturbing me ; is that it ?"

"Yes ma'am," said he, relieved.

" You may be quite easy as regards that. Has that room
been ceiled yet ?"

" No ma'am 'twould have been if you all had stayed
here."

"I am glad that it is not. I can hear your hymns how I
used to love those old tunes ! Have your meeting. I wish I
had no other disturbance !"

He had got into the entry, when she recalled him ; and with
the sad smile she had worn during their conversation, said,
"Uncle Will ! if you think I have not done hankering after for-
bidden fruit, you may pray, that I may be cured."

" I will, Mistis ! God bless you !"

She had forgotten, and Will did not know, that all the services
could be heard through the floor. The worshippers assembled
so quietly, that she was not aware of this, until Will's tones
startled her with the idea that he was in the room. He com-
menced the exercises by reading the fourteenth chapter of John's
gospel. " Let not your hearts be troubled ; ye believe in God,
believe also in me." He offered neither comment nor explana-
tion. He was a believer iu what ho called " the pure Word;"

ALONE. 229

" if I can't comprehend one part," he was wont to say, " I com-
fort myself by thinking that there is so much that is plain even
to my weak understanding." The quavering voice of an aged
man led in prayer; and in spite of its verbiage and incorrect
grama-.ar, Ida listened, for it was sincere. They sang in the
sweet voices for which the race is so remarkable,

" There is a lanl of pure delight,"

with a wild, beautiful chorus, repeated each time with more
emphasis and fervor

" Oh sing to me of Heaven !
In Heaven alone, no sin is known,
And there's no parting there !"

Ida shut her eyes and lay motionless, lest she should lose a
note. Forgetful of her unholy enmity to her God her distrust
of her kind borne upon the melody her soul arose to Pisgah's
top, and looked yearningly upon the "sweet fields beyond the
swelling flood," heard the jubilant song of the redeemed

" In Heaven alone, no sin is known,
And there's no parting there !"

A solemn hush followed; and Will said, "Let us pray."
His deliberate accents quickened into animation, with the unfold-
ing of his petitions; spurning the fetters of his imperfect speech,
his thoughts clothed themselves in the language of the Divine
Word; coming to a King, he adopted unconsciously the ver-
nacular of princes. In speaking of Ida, his manner was ear-
nestly affectionate. "We beseech Thee, Father, to deal
gently with thine handmaid, whom thou hast set over us in
worldly things. Thou hast seen fit that she should bear the
yoke in her youth, hast made her to possess wearisome nights,
^nd days of vanity ; hast mingled her bread with tears, and her
drink with weeping ; Thou hast taken from her father and
mother, the hope of her soul, and the desire of her eyes; it is
the Lord's doings, and it is marvellous in our eyes and in hers.
Lighten her eyes, Our Father ! though weeping has endured for
a night. Thou hast promised that joy shall come in the morning;
tell her, that no affliction for the present seemeth joyous, but
grievous; but that Thou wilt make it work out for her an eternal
weight of glory ; that whom Thou lovest Thou chasteneth, and
20

230 ALONE.

upon Thy Blessed Son Thou didst lay the afflictions and ini-
quities of us all. May her hungry soul run to Him, from the
far country in which she has been living, and may He heal her
broken bones, give her the oil of gladness for mourning the
garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness."

The hot, dry channel was broken up, and tears flowed in plen-
teous measure. From the softening soul sprang her first real
prayer. " Oh ! be my Father and Comforter I"

When Rachel awoke in the morning, she saw that her mis-
tress had unbarred the shutters of the window by her bed, and
was reading. Her face had a still deeper shade of gloom ; but
the attached girl drew a favorable augury from this mark of
interest in anything, except her own thoughts. The book was a
mother's gift a Bible; she had read it with tolerable regularity
for the giver's sake, but she found herself now lamentably igno-
rant of its contents. She read of the unapproachable purity of
the Immaculate, of judgment and justice; denunciation of the
wicked, and the "fearful looking for of vengeance" that remained
to rebellious children ; in vain she searched it for a message to
her a promise she could apply. Her alarm augmented, as the
fruitlessness of her endeavors became apparent. The life she
had lightly esteemed was inestimably dear, as she realised what
eternity was ; and her heart was still with fear at the thought
of the uncertain tenure by which she held it. In times past she
would have blushed at these shakings of spirit; now she could
not banish them. She would not be left alone an instant ; she
was afraid to sleep, lest she should not awake in time. She had
said, what evil have I done ?" she saw now that she had com-
mitted evil, and that continually ; as she beheld " idolatry,
hatred, variance, emulation, wrath, envyings" in the same enu-
meration with monstrous vices a catalogue which brings to
our ears the warring clash of Pandemonium, rendered more hor-
ribly discordant by contrast with the gentle music of " Love, joy,
peace, long-suffering."

In angry despair she threw the volume aside ; but tortured
conscience drove her to it again. " I will be a Christian," was
her primal resolve, as the terrors of the law flamed before her
" I must be !" and a week of labor and agony ended in a total
sinking of hope, and an exhausted cry, " I cannot !"

ALONE. 231

It was a calm Sabbath in the Indian Summer, and her chair
was wheeled to the door. The " summer's late, repentant smile"
shone fondly upon the landscape; the russet fields, the dis-
mantled forests, the swift-rolling river.

She had seen it look just so, often; when the breeze played
among the child's curls, and lent a quicker bound to a light
heart but faded in body prematurely old in spirit she saw
no beauty in earth had no treasure in heaven. Her Bible was
upon her knees ; she turned the pages indolently, and was say-
ing, for the hundredth time, " No hope !" when a passage
appeared to start up from the page. Could it have been there
while she sought it carefully and with tears? "The Lord hath
called thee as a woman, forsaken and grieved in spirit ; and as a
wife of youth, when thou wast refused, saith my God. For a
small moment have I forsaken thee, but with great mercies will
I gather thee ; in a little wrath I hid my face from thee for a
moment, but with everlasting kindness will I have mercy upon
thee, saith the Lord, thy Redeemer. * * * * Oh ! thou
afflicted, tossed with tempests, and not comforted ! behold, I will
lay thy stones with fair colors, and lay thy foundations with
sapphires !"

As Will passed under the window on his way to Church, he
was arrested by an unusual sound. No one was visible, but hia
heart and eyes ran over, as he recognised the voice that sang
softly

"Other refuge have I none,

Hangs my helpless soul on Thee;
Leave, oh ! leave me not alone,

Still support and comfort me.
All my trust on Thee is stayed,

All my help from Thee I bring;
Cover my defenceless head

With the shadow of Thy wing."

ALONE .

CHAPTER XXI.

THE trembling \vliich mingled with her transport, was so
foreign to Ida's ardent temperament, that she doubted sometimes,
if she had indeed found peace. But as her filial love and trust
strengthened with time, she rejoiced with more hope. Much of
the old leaven was left; her imperious temper still chafed at
restraint, and she was disheartened at the discovery, that the
loveliest of the " Blessed Three" graces was most difficult to
practise. She leaned upon a Saviour's arm, and was willing to
walk in the ways of His appointment, but the weak heart pleaded
that He would not send her back into the world. Sweet Sunny-
bank, rich in associations ; with its peaceful duties and holy
enjoyments, must be more favorable to the advancement of her
new life ; she hoped against hope, that she might be permitted
to remain. A letter from her guardian settled the point. With
laconic terseness, he declared the thing " impossible. By her
father's will, the estate was hers, when she was of age ; until
then, no preparatory step could be taken." Her scheme had
been to invite a sister of Mrs. Grant, an excellent woman, now
dependent upon her brother-in-law, to reside with her, in the
capacity of housekeeper and companion ; and leaving the control
of her finances in Mr. Read's hands, to devote herself to the
improvement of her servants and poor neighbors. It was a praise-
worthy enterprise, and it cost her a sharp pang to resign it, and
prepare for the return, her guardian pressed, " as_ desirable and
proper." Her trunks were packed ; and she had come in from
a tour of the negro cabins, and a visit to her mother's grave, to
spend the last twilight in the room in which she was born in
which her mother had died. The November blast howled in
the chimney ; here it was the music of early days j in Rich-
mond, it would be so dreary !

She was not gloomy, although the firelight glistened upon
cheeks wet with tears ; she was not going away, as she had
coine alone j still she was sad at quitting her retreat, and in the
prospect of the temptations awaiting her. There would be trials,

ALONE. 233

too trials of faith and patience and charity and trials of feel-
ing what if she should be found wanting ! But a whisper
tranquilised her " Fear not / am with thee !" Mrs. Grant
opened the door. She held a lamp whose rays blinded Ida's
tender eyes.

" A gentleman to see you, Miss Ida, and as there was no
fire in the drawing-room, I've asked him into the dining-room ;"
announced the dame, who was remarkable rather for sterling
goodness, than for grace and discretion. The door of communi-
cation was wide open, and Ida had no alternative but to walk
directly into the adjoining apartment. Charley Dana met her,
ere she had advanced three steps beyond the doorway. He was
so shocked at her altered appearance that he could not speak at
once, but stood, pressing her hands in his, and gazing into her
face with inexpressible solicitude and tenderness. She must
make an exertion.

" This is kind, Charley ! Am I to flatter myself that you
have turned out of your way to see me ?"

" No. I have looked neither to the right nor to the left. I
came by the most direct route from Richmond. Sit down you
are not able to stand and give an account of yourself. What
in the name of all that is ridiculous and outrageous, brought
you here alone, and has kept you here until the middle of the
winter?"

" Not so bad as that, Charley ! It is only the last month of
Autumn. I came, because I did not want to go North, and was
pining for a sight of the old place ; and have been sick ever
since. But tell me of yourself. When did you return, and
why have not you written to me?"

" That is what I call ' iced ! ' said Charley, with a laugh that
sounded like former times. " Haven't I sent letters to every
post-office in the Union, and not received a line in answer, since
you parted company with Arthur and Carry ? I arrived at,
home, ten days ago. Mr. Read presumed' you were yet in
the country, and would be back when you were ready :' Juhn
and Jenny were in the dark; had written and inquired to no
purpose: daily dispatches were pouring in from Arthur, certify-
ing that Carry was nearly deranged with anxiety. Yesterday, I
20*

234 ALONE.

met Mr. Read, who told me you had been 'indisposed/ but would
be down shortly. I asked your address, and here I am !"

"You could not be more welcome anywhere) but how unac-
countable that your letters miscarried !"

" Easily explained ! I stopped down the road, at a house,
half-tavern, half-store, where I espied Post Office/ painted upon
a shingle, hung out of a dirty window ; and inquired the name
of the place. ' Thompsonburg/ said the P. M. ' Burg,' indeed !
'I thought there was an office in this neighbourhood, called ' Oak-
land ;' " said I.

" Oh ! that's discontinued more than a year ago;' answered
he. ' 'Twas at the Cross-roads below.' "

Simple solution of a mystery which had led her to doubt her
best earthly friends! Charley looked at her intently.

" 'Indisposition/ forsooth ! Why, I'll be hanged "

" No you wont, Charley ! Don't say so."

" Shot, then ! if I am sure that I am not talking to a spirit !
You've been to Death's door. What made you sick?"

" Oh ! a variety of causes."

" Which means, it's no business of mine to inquire. All I
have to say is, that your friends would not have treated you, as
you have them. If I had died in Missouri, I would have left
' good-bye/ and a lock of my hair for you. You might have
departed this life twenty times, and we been none the wiser."

" How quarrelsome you are ! I'll never do so again, if you'll
forgive me this once."

" Forgive ! I have nothing to forgive you were privileged
to do as you pleased; only, if you had said adieu to the land
of the living, it would have been a gratification to us to know it."

Ida laughed out so merrily that Mrs. Grant, who was super-
intending the setting of the tea-table, raised her spectacles to
look at her, and smiled gratifiedly. She and her husband sat at
the table, and the guest's " sociable ways" ingratiated him with
them, before the meal was half over. They retired with tbc
waiters, and Charley, dropping his bantering tone, established
himself for a "quiet coze." It was strange that he should be
the first confidant of Ida's change of heart; he, whom men
styled careless sometimes " scoffer."

He did not scoff now ; he paid diligent heed to her recital,

ALONE. 235

and when it was finished " From my soul, I congratulate you !"
he exclaimed. " Would to Heaven, that I too believed !"

" You may ;" said Ida, timidly.

"You do not know the thickness of the crust around my heart,
Ida ; the unbelief, and ingratitude and worldliness. I can battle
with men, and wear a bravado mask ; but I do not forget that I
have a soul, and that it must be attended to. Whether I will
ever do it, I cannot say. I think I must be the most hardened
of sinners; Lynn's death would have subdued a less obdurate
heart; and do you know that, while thoroughly persuaded that
it was a judgment aimed full at me for he was my dearest
friend, and I felt his loss, most of all who mourned him I
hated the Power which had dealt the blow, and scorned angrily
the presumption, that I could be forced into measures!"

" You were not more wicked than I was. There is not a truer
sentence in the Bible, than that the 'carnal mind is enmity against
God.' Ah ! Charley ! if we loved holy things more ! It is so
mortifying to find our thoughts straying away from these sub-
jects, when we are most desirous of contemplating them !"

That is the fault of Old Adam the body of death/ Paul
writes of;" replied he. " I am not much of a .Bible scholar, but
it strikes me he says something in the next verse of a Deliverer,
1 who giveth us the victory.' Why are Christians ever low-spirited,
I wonder."

And poor Ida upbraided herself with the same query, many
times within the next few days. She bore the partings and the
journey better than Charley had feared she would. He did his
best to save her pain and fatigue, but he saw, with secret reve-
rence, that she was supported by a stronger Friend.

" We are almost there !" said he, letting down the carriage-
window, upon the afternoon of their second day's travel.

Ida leaned out, and beheld the spires and roofs of the city.
She was unprepared for the effect the sight had upon her. Recol-
lections of her years of loneliness ; the trials of her home-life ;
the one friendship of her school days; a brother's fondness, and
his doom; her love and its blight rushed upon her with over-
whelming force she fell back upon the cushions, and wept aloud.
She had not entirely recovered her composure, when they stopped
at Mr. Read's door, Josephine hardly knew the wasted figure,

236 ALONE.

Charley carried, rather than led into the house ; and Mr. Read
was, for once, shocked out of his dignity.

" Why ! Mr. Dana ! Miss Ida ! bless my soul and body !" was
Lis ^characteristic exclamation.

Charley was in no humour for trifling, or he would have said,
"Amen !"

" Miss Ida's indisposition was not so unimportant as you sup-
posed, you see, sir;" said he sarcastically. "Thanks to the
kind attentions of her country friends, she is now convalescent."

" Hush, Charley ! please!" said a distressed whisper from the
sofa, where he had laid her. "Mr. Grant wrote to you, Mr.
Read ;" said she, aloud ; " but as you were travelling, we doubted
whether you received the letter."

"I did not;" he answered, the flush going off from his brow.

" I was so carefully nursed, I did not require other attention;"
she continued. "I should have regretted it, if your summer's
enjoyment had been interrupted needlessly. Dr. Hall, and Mr.
and Mrs. Grant were untiring in their kindness; and Rachel
here, ought to have a diploma to practice medicine.''

It was a maxim with Mr. Read, that for every mischance,
blame must rest somewhere; and Ida, having exculpated him,
he could not do less than return the compliment, by pitching it
back upon her.

" I do not presume to lecture you, Miss Ross ; but you will
admit that this freak of yours was one of unsurpassed impru-
dence. You left my roof under the protection of those, whom I
considered fit guardians for a young lady." Charley made a
movement to speak; but Ida's imploring glance restrained him.
" I hear nothing of you for a long time ; and you write, at last,
from an uninhabited country-house, begging permission to take
up your abode there. I refuse the preposterous request, and you
are brought home reduced and weakened by a severe illness, of
which I have not been informed. I cannot be responsible for
what the world will say to all this, Miss Ross!"

The rack could not have silenced Charley now. " I will tell
you what the world's opinion is, sir ; and hold you responsible
for your own words. ' The world' has said, in my hearing, that
the guardian, who loses sight of a ward a member of his family
for six months, without being apprised of, or inquiring into

ALONE. 237

her locality and welfare, is unworthy of his trust. And if I
describe his reception of an invalid, who might have perished
through neglect, for all he knew or cared ' the world,' sir, will
declare indignantly, that he is a disgrace to society and man-
kind ! I have nothing more to say at present. If you take
exception to my liberty of speech, you can call on me, and relieve
your mind. Miss Ida, let me recommend to you to retire ; Mr.
Read will finish his lecture to me good afternoon, Miss Read.
Sir, I have the honor to bid you good-day !"

Josephine burst forth with a torrent of invective : which Ida
did not stay to hear; nor did she see either of them again for
two days. She was not well enough to go below ; and they
avoided her chamber.

Mrs. Dana called that evening. Ida was preparing for bed;
and she supplanted Rachel as maid and nurse. Her softest,
most nimble of hands undressed the tired, dispirited girl ;
smoothed the pillows; and gave her a composing draught; and
with her kiss warm upon her lips, her pitying eyes watching
over her, and a prayer of thankfulness at her heart, Ida fell
asleep.

She learned to expect a daily visit from this dear friend ; and
rarely looked in vain. At her third coming she brought a note
from Charley. "He was happy to state;" he said; " that the
skirmish which had excited her uneasiness, had arrived at a
bloodless issue. Mr. Read and himself had had an interview ;
he had apologised for using language to him, in his own house,
which he considered himself justifiable in employing anywhere
else; and Mr. Read excused his harshness to her, by represent-
ing the excitement of surprise and alarm, under which he was
laboring at the time. It was agreed the matter should stop
there that is;" wrote Charley; " that his bugbear, the world,
shall not get hold of it."

Josephine had received her orders; for she carried her work
into Ida's chamber, that day, and sat one hour, to a minute,
never opening her lips, save in monosyllables to the questions
Ida forced herself to ask. Abandoning seclusion so soon as she
had sufficient strength, the latter joined the family at meals, and
remained longer in their society than she was wont to do for-
merly ; and if her hope of eventually conquering their dislike

238 ALONE.

did not increase, her meekness and patience did. She had occa-
sion for it all. Josephine was quick to discover that she was
happier in her affliction and debility, than she was in health and
prosperity; and when the truth came to light, her natural
malignity to the cause, and her hatred of its humble professor
triumphed in the fiendish anticipation of how she could, by
deriding one, wound the other. She would have descried soil
upon an angel's robe. Ida was a young Christian, contending
with the manifold disadvantages of temper, habit and irreligious
associates; and her wily assailant was not passive long for lack
of weapons and opportunity for her warfare. Any symptom of
a convalescent's irritability ; the utterance of a taste or opinion,
which did not tally with her standard of consistency, was marked
and laid by for use ; and no complaisance or concession on Ida's
part, moved her purpose. Mr. Read paid his pew-rent, went to
church once every fine Sunday, and had a pleasant impression
that by so doing, he was "keeping along;" paying interest as
it were, upon the debt, sanguine that when the distant pay-day
arrived, he would be able, by one prodigious effort, to discharge
the principal. He " hated cant, because it was silly and use-
less ;" and if he did not chime in his daughter's slurs upon reli-
gion, and the conduct of Christians, he never rebuked her by
word or sign. Watchfully, prayerfully, Ida strove to keep her
feet in the path, and by no misstep or fall, to cast obloquy upon
the name she loved.

Anna Talbot, a friendly, good-natured girl her brother's
superior in sense and feeling, was a near neighbor ; and she ran
in directly after breakfast one morning, full of a ball to which
she was invited. Josephine had a ticket also, and was wishing
for her she must consult her about her dress.

" Ma has bought me a lovely white silk," said Anna. '' I
am to wear sprigged illusion over it but oh ! I was so disap-
pointed! I wanted silver-sprigged, you know, like that Miss
What's-her-name, from Philadelphia, wore to Mrs. Porter's
party but although I ransacked every store in the city, I could
not find a piece. What will you get, Josey ?"

I have not quite determined."

Do let us dress alike ! There is another pattern of silk at
P V

ALONE. 239

"Well! I will look at it. What head-dress?" inquired
Josephine.

" Oh ! that's another novelty ! I saw two darling little loves
of wreaths down town rose-buds and lilies-of-the-valley pure

white. I asked Mrs. V to lay them aside until to-day. I

thought of you.

The " darling little loves" were pronounced aufait.

" What ornaments?" said Josephine, who was in her element.

Anna made a gesture of despair. "There's the trouble! I
have nothing but those rubies, and they will not do at all. I
dislike to go without any ; but it cannot be helped."

"Pearls would correspond well with your dress/' observed
Ida.

" Ah, yes ! my dear ! and if I had a pearl fishery, I would
draw upon my divers forthwith ; unfortunately I have not."

" Are you certain ?" returned Ida, smiling. " Imagine me a
diver. I have a neat set, which is at your service, if you will
honor me by wearing it."

" Oh ! you dearest of girls !" exclaimed Anna. " But you
want them yourself I beg your pardon I forgot you were in
mourning ; but your black is not too deep for ornaments."

" But her odor of sanctity is too strong," said Josephine.
" She has renounced the pomps and vanities you and I love,
Anna, and 'put on the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit.'
How do you reconcile it with your conscience, to let your pearls
attend a ball, Ida? How much scouring and praying will cleanse
them again for your use ?"

" Oh ! I will get you or Anna to air them for me, once in a
while, and trust to time to purify them," said Ida, willing to
pass it off as a joke.

"Do you really think it sinful to go to balls?" asked Anna,
wonderingly.

" I could not do it innocently," replied Ida.

" Why not ? you used to like them as well as the rest of us."

" For pity's sake ! no sermonising !" rudely interrupted Jose-
phine. " I can show you the root of her piety in two worda.
Don't you remember a certain gentleman, whose handsome face
and saintly smile set off his religion so well ?"

"Oh!" laughed Anna; "but I thought he liked her very
well as she was "

240 ALONE.

" Nothing like making assurance doubly sure !" answered the
other. " Pity he did not return to town this winter. Love's
labor is lost."

"Why, Ida! what a flirt you are !" cried Anna. "When
everybody says you are engaged to Mr. Dana !"

" Everybody is wrong, then," said Ida, calmly.

" Everybody is riyht!" contradicted Josephine. " She reads
in her Bible, that she must love all men ;' and her being in
mourning for one beau, and dying with love for another, are no
impediments to her engagement with a third. This is Pla-
tonism with a vengeance."

" Fie ! Josephine !" said Anna, perceiving by Ida's face, that
the pleasantry, as she still thought it, was going too far. " You
know, as well as I do, that Mr. Holmes was only a friend. Mrs.
Dana is in black for him too it is as reasonable to say that she
was in love with him."

" She may have been, for anything I know to the contrary;"
retorted Josephine, growing more and more insolent. " I don't
pretend to understand the morals of the clique.' "

" I am going up stairs, Anna," said Ida, " and will send you
the pearls. If they please you, you are welcome to them, when-
ever you wish them."

Anna pulled her down. " Don't go ! I want to talk with you.
You must not regard Josephine's nonsense it is only a foolish
jest."

" One, which must not be repeated !" said Ida. " I may not
notice an insult to myself, but if my friends are slandered, I
irust defend them."

" Defend them, as long and loud as you choose ;" replied
Josephine, retaining her disagreeable smile and tone. " Recrimi-
nate too, if you like. It is but politic in you to fight for your
patrons. Aha ! that flash of the eye was Christian-like ! Did
you never observe, Anna, that when the ' brethren' are wrought
up to the belligerent point, they are the fiercest of combatants ?"

Ida hurried up stairs threw herself upon the bed, and cried
bitterly; unobservant of Eachel's presence.

" Oh ! Father ! pity me ! I am so weak and wicked !" she
prayed.

Rachel went out boiling with rage.

ALONE. 241

" More of that Evil's work ! Hope I may be forgiven for
Baying sech a word, but if she didn't come from the bottomless
ditch, I should jist like to be re-formed whar she was made ! I
know mighty well whar she'll go. I ain't a goin' to stand it!
Miss Ida shan't be terrified forever and ever. I'll speak my
tnind to Miss Jenny, before I'm a day older; maybe Mars' John
can get her away from this dreadful place. Miss Ida'd never
forgive me ; but she needn't know nothin' about my tellin' !"

" Miss Jenny" heard her with indignant astonishment ; but
giving her no encouragement to proceed with her tale, or to hope
for an amelioration of her mistress' condition, merely said she
was sorry she could do nothing for her; and advised her to
imitate Ida's prudence and silence ; counsel which confirmed
Rachel's skepticism in " white folks' friendship." Ida thought
Cha-rley kinder than ever, that evening. If he had known the
severity of her day's discipline, he could not have been more
tender and consolatory. His inattention to Josephine, who also
had visitors, troubled her somewhat; but she had the comforting
reflection that she was not to blame for it. The day of the ball,
he took her and Mrs. Dana to ride. They called at the residence
of a country friend, to whose green-house Charley had the entree;
and he improved his privilege by culling a bouquet of Camelias,
tea-roses and orange blossoms "for the belle of the ball;" he told
his hostess. When they were again in the carriage, he handed
them to Ida, with a laugh. " I have no idea of going to the
ball, and you would be the belle, if you were to attend ; so there
was no fibbing, was there ?" The flowers were beautiful, and at
this season, very rare; and Ida bore them home carefully, and
put them in water in her room. They were sweet company; she
could only watch, and pet, and talk to them the rest of the day.

Mr. Read was uncommonly jocose at supper time.

" Make yourself pretty, Josey," said he, lighting his lamp;
" you don't have me to escort you every evening."

Josephine looked after him with a sneer. " A mighty honor !
If he had a spark of generosity or politeness, he would have
bought me a bouquet, if they do ask such enormous prices. I
have a good mind not to go, I shall feel so mean without one."

Ida said she regretted it; and she did feel for her. She knew,
that to party-goers, these little things are no trifles; she had
21

242 ALONE.

seen a girl dull or sulky for an entire evening, because of a
deficiency of this sort.

" I wish I could help her," she was saying to herself, as she
returned to her apartment. The aroma that stole upon her senses
said, "you can." She was no heroine, for she stood over her
flowers, and doubted and pondered for a good half hour, before
her wavering mind rested upon its pivot; and then a tear bedewed
a Camelia's spotless bosom, as she emptied the vase, and saying
aloud, "If thine enemy thirst, give him drink," set about arrang-
ing them anew. Her Christmas rose-tree was hanging with buds,
which, on the morrow, would be blossoms, but she despoiled it of
its nodding pearls; and adding geraniums and citronaloes, com-
pleted as tasteful a bouquet, as ever bloomed under the fingers
of a fashionable florist.

She gave it to Josephine, when she came into the parlor to
survey her full-length figure in the tall glass.

" Oh ! how lovely !" she exclaimed involuntarily ; then
recovering herself, said coldly, "They are pretty;" and returned
them.

" They are for you," said Ida.

" Who sent them ?"

" They were presented to me ; and as their beauty is wasted
upon the desert air* of my chamber, I shall be obliged to you
to display them."

Josephine would have rejected the generous offer, if there had
been the remotest chance of another ; but it was late, and she
could not go bouquetless.

" Who gave them to you ?" she asked.

Ida paused, then replied, " Mr. Dana."

" He will know them ; I had rather go without any."

" No danger of that ! he will not be there." Her patience
was nearly spent. Josephine accepted the gift with a very bad
grace ; she was awkward and embarrassed, and what appears
more improbable, a little ashamed. Mr. Head was attired with
scrupulous neatness and elegance, and looked ten years younger
than he really was. Ida " presumed" to tell him so, and was
recompensed by a bland smile. She had done her duty, per-
haps more, and she did not repent of her self-denial; but some-
thing of the desolate feeling of " lang-syne" fell upon her, as

ALONE. 243

she was left, sole tenant of the parlor and the house. Weak
and weary, she sighed for human society and affection. It was
a darkened hour ; clouded by self-doubtings, mournful memories
and forebodings. The piano was open ; she had not touched it
since her arrival at home; but she went to it now; only plaintive
tunes came to her fingers ; she played fitfully, as her mood dis-
posed her; the music was the voice of her thoughts; and she
sang to a rambling, irregular measure

" I am alone the last light tread

And laugh have died upon my ear;
And I may weep unchecked nor dread

The scorn, that forces back the tear.
I turn to Thee ! oh ! when the strings,

The trustful heart has fondly thrown,
Wound closely round its best-loved things-
Are, by one stroke, asunder torn,
And bleeding, crushed, uncared for, lie^

When Hope's gay smile no joy can throw,
And the soul breathes but one wish to die!

To whom else can the suffering go?
Thou Thou dost look within, and read

How I have sought for love, and found
Reproach instead how in its need

My spirit bowed it to the ground,
E'en to the dust and deemed it nought

Bore patiently, when pained and wronged
And smiled on sorrow, if it brought

The priceless boon for which it longed.
In vain ! in vain ! and now I come

As to her nest the dove doth flee;
Give Thou my wandering heart a home

And bind its shattered chords to Thee !"

" My poor child ! are you then so sad ?"

She knew the hand upon her drooping head before he spoke ;
and with a prayer for support, that calmed her fluttering heart,
arose to greet him.

" Am I forgiven for my intrusion ?" said he, leading her to a
chair. " The front door was ajar, and hearing your music, I
entered without ringing."

" Freely pardoned ! Have you been in town long 7"

" Since five o'clock this afternoon. I am on my way to the
south with Annie. She is ordered to winter in Florida. Go
with us will you not ? Charley supped with us ; and Annie
proposed this plan on hearing of your feeble health. She will
wait until you are ready if you comply."

244 ALONE.

" I am very grateful for her kindness ; but I cannot avail
myself of it."

"Are there any 'propriety scruples?'" inquired he, smiling.
"You will be her companion; and the most fastidious cannot
object to the escort of a brother, and an engaged man."

She was fortified against even this. Her arch glance hid the
heart-pang faithfully. " Where is slie ?" she questioned.

" Lelia ? at her father's house in S . Here is her coun-
terfeit." He unclasped a locket.

"It is like Carry !" said Ida; then she scanned it long and
earnestly. She was very beautiful ; with large, blue eyes ; and
a cherry mouth, just parted in a smile; and shining hair, folded
above the smooth forehead fair enough for him ! and as she
raised her eyes to say how^ lovely she was, she beheld herself in
the glass opposite wan, hollow-eyed and sallow and felt how
presumptuous how reckless in its folly, her dream had been !
He shut the spring, without looking at it himself, (it was delicate
and considerate to avoid the comparison !) and making no reply
to her praises of his betrothed, began to speak of the bond of
fellowship, formed between themselves, since their parting. She
had been discouraged by her inability to talk of what was ever
in her mind ; had distrusted the genuineness of her faith, because
her tongue faltered in telling of the love which had redeemed
her. He entered fully info her feelings ; and she surprised her-
self by the freedom the consciousness of this afforded her. He told
her of his difficulties and temptations and conflicts, often antici-
pating what she would have related of her own experience. So
well did his counsels and comfort meet the inquiries and wants
of her spirit, that she debated within herself whether he were
not sent by heaven a special messenger in her hour of trial.

" Say on !" said he, encouragingly, as he caught her eye.

"I was about to ask if you believed in what are termed
minute or particular Providences."

" As in my existence ! even to the numbering of the hairs of
any head. You have not been troubling your brain with quib-
blingsupon this subject, I hope?"

" No ; but I have heard it disputed by very good people, who
confuse me by their 'free agency/ and 'accountability/ and
'decrees.' "

ALONE. 245

" Discard theories, and eschew arguments. Let your Bible
and your common sense be your teachers. As a machinist
fashions the minutest cog of the smallest wheel, as carefully as
the mighty lever, the main power, so the Supreme Governor
looks to the balance of the tiniest atom in His universe."

" Then," said Ida ; I do not commit presumption when I
trace my Father's hand in every-day events ; when I lift up my
soul in thankfulness for a pleasant, or ennobling thought, a
visit, a gift, an act of friendship, which has made me better or
happier or say ' Thy will be done ?' in the petty trials, which
annoy, rather than afflict us !"

" It is your privilege and duty. The introductory sentence
of the Lord's Prayer is sufficient to inculcate this truth. Our
Father ' is not a father's care constant ? He says moreover
1 we must become as little children.' Who relies more than a
child ? { As thy day is, so shall thy strength be ' } ' no matter
where, or how we are placed, God will give us the requisite
strength ; and as our positions are changing every moment, dees
not this say that He will be with us every moment, and order
the success of whatever we attempt, by the amount of strength
He imparts ? And again, not a sparrow falls to the ground
without your Father.' Nothing which God does is small, and
He orders all things according to the counsel of His own will.'
Then nothing is insignificant, because God orders everything.
Our actions may appear trivial; but do they not assume a ter-
rible importance, when we learn that even our fleeting words are
to be the data of our judgment, at the last day ? A few good
people doubt the doctrine of ( special Providences;' but is it not
better for us to believe what God says of his character, than to
determine what character he ought to have ? If He says He is
the God of the hairs of our heads ' of sparrows' and lilies
of the field all we have to do, is to take His word for truth,
and act accordingly. His attention to small things is as con-
clusive a proof of His Divinity, as to great ones. It has been
well said, that ' man cannot comprehend the Infinitely great,
nor the Infinitely small.' But I weary you."

"You do not I am interested and instructed. I am but a
babe in leading-strings ; so weak and ignorant, it terrifies me to
21*

246 ALONE.

think of the possibility that I will be obliged to take a single
step without holding my Father's hand."

" That is what none of us are called upon to do, Ida. I will
never leave thee, nor forsake thee.' Even there shall thy hand
lead me, and Thy right hand shall hold me.' We could not
stand alone an instant, were this ' right hand' withdrawn."

" Charley, who strews many pearls among the rubbish he
scatters abroad, once set me to thinking seriously I hope,
not unprofitably, by wondering why Christians were ever low-
spirited," said Ida. " It seems to me that they would not be,
"tf their confidence in God were implicit and abiding ; but I am
often sad almost desponding."

" To-night, for instance," said Mr. Lacy, cheerfully. " ' This
kind goeth not out, but by prayer;' and you must not be cast
down, that you cannot, in a month, overcome a habit of years.
Humanly speaking, you have had much to embitter your lot ;
but as we can, in reviewing our past lives, see many events
which, Janus-like, approached us frowningly, now changed to
smiles of blessing, ought we not, with this attestation of expe-
rience to the truth of His promises, to trust Him in the dark
ways we now tread ?"

"Poor Lynn!" her full eyes overflowed. "How frequently
I am reminded of his

'I am blind ! in rough paths groping
With outstretched hands and sightless eyes!'"

"Let us hope that the Everlasting arms received him," said
Mr. Lacy. "I feared to speak of him to you, Ida; knowing,
as I do, that upon a heart like yours, such a blow must have
left indelible traces. You have not you never will forget him,
but can you not believe that this, too, was intended for your
good?"

" I do although at the time, it seemed very hard that from
my meagre list of friends, one so necessary to my happiness,
should be stricken. I may never meet another, who will give
me affection so fond, yet so disinterested."

" Disinterested ! that is a term not generally applied to love
which leads to betrothal."

" Mr. Lacy !" ejaculated Ida, astonished. " But no ! you
knew us too well ? did Lynn never tell you " she stopped.

ALONE. 247

" No, I first heard of your engagement from a third person ;
you confirmed it, subsequently,"

"What do you mean? you are under a strange misapprehen-
sion. I never was betrothed to Lynn j he never thought of me
but as a friend."

" Ida !" his tone was stern. " What are you saying ? Have
you forgotten the night you left my side for his, upon seeing his
dejection the long promenade, and his reproaches for what he
deemed wrongfully, as I am now assured was coquetry in
you? I was told then, what I had heard, without heeding
before, that you were plighted lovers. So confirmed was I in
my disbelief that I would have declared it, in defiance of the proofs
presented to me, had I not overheard by accident a portion of
your conversation. He said (I remember it well !) I have
loved you as man never loved woman before have believed you
pure and high-minded. If I thought that the despicable coquetry
you hint at, had caused you to insist upon the concealment of
our engagement ' I lost the rest. Is not this enough ? must 1
harrow your feelings by recurring to your appeal to me to save
him from crime and death for your sake ; or to the awful hour
when you were summoned to receive his last sigh? Oh! Ida!
Ida ! I have trusted in your truth do not shake my faith now I"

There was bewilderment, but not falsehood in the eyes that
sustained his rebuking glance. " I have spoken the truth. The
sentence which misled you, was the repetition of a remark made
to another ; the whisper in his dying hour, a message to the
same. To me I repeat he was a brother, devoted and true
to the last but nothing more."

His lips were ashy white; his self-command had utterly
deserted him.

"I have been terribly deceived I" he said, rising and pacing
the floor. Ida !" he resumed, coming back to her side, " we
have spoken ef the mysterious dealings of Providence, I did
not think my trust would be tested so soon. You have unwit-
tingly awakened a pain, I thought was stilled forever, and jus-
tice to you, and to myself, requires me to endure it yet awhile
longer. We are friends we can never be anything nearer
but if I were the husband, instead of the betrothed of another,
I should feel bound to clear my honor from the aspersion my

248 ALONE.

conduct has cast upon it. My actions my language, must
have convinced you that I loved you ; you were ignorant of the
mistake into which I had fallen what interpretation have you
put upon my course, since ? You did not misconstrue my atten-
tions then tell me am I a knave a hypocrite in your sight?"

"Never!" said she, lifting a face, as pale as his own. "My
confidence in your friendship and integrity has not swerved, and
there lives not one who will pray for your happiness with 'more
sincerity; who is more thankful for your noble renunciation of
personal feeling to advance her welfare. We are friends 1 we
will forget everything but this."

She was standing before him ; and while speaking, laid her
hand in his. He gazed silently into the countenance, so elevated
in its look of heroic self-devotion.

" You have chosen one far more worthy of you than I could
ever have been ; you will be very happy together. I hope to
meet her some day, and love her, as all must love the beautiful
and good. There is a consolation those friends have at parting,,
whose home is not here; that, although we walk in different
pathways on earth, they all lead to our abiding-place Heaven."
With an uncontrollable impulse, he drew her to him, and pressed
his lips to her brow ! He was gone ! and the poor human heart
bled from the slow torture to which it had been put. He had
not dreamed of it, had not suspected, when her steady, sweet
tones told him of their separate pathways, that her soul was
reaching, in intense yearnings, towards the lightsome way,
where flowers sprang beneath his steps, and shuddering at the
tomb-like chill of that which echoed her lonely foot-fall. He
was gone ! and the weeping eyes which sought Heaven, showed
from whence she had derived the supernatural strength which
had borne her through the trying interview; and with the cry
of unspeakable sorrow that succeeded his departure, arose a peti-
tion for larger supplies. It was granted. She wept still; but
not in wretchedness. Solemn, pure resolutions were growing
up beneath the waves of grief. The destruction of this hope
the dearest in a woman's heart, was the fall of a proud plant,
the garden's pride in its matured beauty. Buds and blooms
wilt and perish upon the stalk, but from the laden seed-vessels
are showered far and wide germs that shall rejoice many hearts
with the sweetness and loveliness their parent garnered fr v / ~~p-

ALONE. 249

CHAPTER XXII.

IT was so cold and damp in the morning, that Rachel, in virtue
of her nursely prerogatives, forbade her mistress' rising before
breakfast. Ida was not averse to keeping her room. She
wished to achieve another victory over herself before meeting
Josephine. A suspicion of her agency in Mr. Lacy's deception
ripened, upon reflection, into a certainty, her love of justice
prompted her to banish. But a hundred incidents occurred to
her memory. Especially, she recollected that Josephine had
accosted him, directly after she had taken Lynn's arm in the
Fair-room, that she was still with him at the close of the even-
ing, and that he had looked sorrowfully reproachfully at her.
She had no just conception of the girl's total destitution of prin-
ciple, nor of her envy of herself; but she knew her to be weak,
vain and spiteful ; and against her will, she had to credit a con-
clusion, she judged uncharitable. She did not desire to ascer-
tain its truth; it could make no difference at this late date.
Another perplexity assailed her; should she tell Josephine of
the visit she had had ? Should she hear of it from some other
source, or by a direct inquiry of herself, whether she had spent
the evening alone what conjectures might not be formed as to
the motive of her silence ? She was deliberating thus, when the
door flew back, and Josephine walked in. Ida, nervously excit-
able, started from her pillow, and clasped her hands in speech-
less alarm at the suddenness and disorder of her appearance.
She was frightfully pallid, and her eyes were inflamed with
weeping and rage.

Locking the door, she advanced to the foot of the bed, and
grasped the post tightly, as if to brace herself for some' desperate
act. Ida could not stir, and the two regarded each other for a
moment without a word. Josephine was torn by some fearful
conflict : Ida had never seen her eyes dimmed by a tear ; and
when the struggle for language ended in a tempestuous burst of
weeping, the thought flashed over her, that she was bereft of

250 ALONE.

" Josephine ! what has happened ?" she could scarcely utter.

Josephine dashed off the thick-coming drops.

" Happened ! yes ! it will not matter to you, who can leave
this abominable place in two years or to-morrow, if you choose
to have your own way. / am to stay, and be pushed about, and
lectured and ruled by a hideous vixen ! I could kill her, and
him too !"

" Are you raving ? Who is it ?"

" His wife ! the dotard ! the foolish old greybeard 1"

" Josephine ! you cannot mean your father !"

" I do mean him ; and he -is a doting fool, to be playing the
sighing lover at his age and to whom ? A baby-faced chit, just
out of her teens ! a spoiled doll of a thing whose prattle and
tricks have addled his brains if he ever had any. I won't stay
here ! I will beg my bread in the street first !"

"But he is not married yet; you maybe mistaken. How
did your hear it Y'

" From himself, on our way to that detestable ball. I wish
he, and she, and it, were at the bottom of the Dead Sea ! He
commenced Josey, my dear !' Oh, the deceitful villain !"

" Josephine !" said Ida, shuddering.

" He is ! and I will say it ! ' Josey ' said he, simpering and
giggling like a shame-faced school-boy Can you guess why
I consented to your having that dress Y'

" Because I liked it I suppose, sir."

" No, my dear ; I had my reasons for wishing you to look
well to-night. I expect to meet a friend at the ball, to whom I
shall introduce you.'

" Who is it, sir ? may I ask ?" said I.

" He giggled and winked oh ! so disgustingly ! Did you
imagine that I was idle all the time I was in the country ? You
were flirting at the Springs, and I concluded to try my hand.
You have too much care upon you, for so young a person; what
do you say to my engaging a ' help ?'

A housekeeper would be a convenience ;" answered I.

A ball is a proper place to hunt up housekeepers !' said he,
blazing out. No airs, miss ! you understand me ! I am to be
married in a fortnight, and you may as well take it quietly
or it will be worse for you.'

ALONE. 251

"It is too late for him to brow-beat me, ind so I said; and
that I would worry his and her life out, as surely as she crossed
this threshold that he had made himself the laughing-stock
of the city had been taken in by a designing creature who
wanted his money for he had lost his good looks and hia
senses too, it appeared "

" ' If you say another word/ said he, griping my arm there!
you see the bruise ! I will put you out of the carriage, and
you may die before I will give you a cent to save you from star-
vation. You will see this lady to-night, and if you do not treat
her with becoming politeness, you don't go home with me, nor
after me, either !'

" You never saw such a tiger ! When we were there, 1
scowled at every dried-up old maid, who looked as if she were
husband-hunting. I had picked out one, with a skinny neck
and corkscrew curls, when up steps our youthful lover, with a
lady hanging on his arm ; he, all honey and smiles she, cool
and bold. Miss Copeland let me make you acquainted with
my daughter !' I wanted to strike her in the face, but his eye was
too threatening ; so I choked myself with a pretty speech, and
she bowed condescendingly. I gave her one look, though, when
he did not see and she glared back at me. I'll warrant there'll
be no love lost I"

"But what is she like? She may be an agreeable com-
panion," said Ida.

" Ida Ross! I didn't come to you for canting consolation ! I
was too full to keep my fury to myself and I hate her rather more
than I do you. This is why I have told you about the wretch.
' Companion !' I'll be company for her ! She had better be
burned alive, than come here. She will wish she had been, or
iny name is not Read !"

" But you can escape by marriage /' suggested Ida, who per-
ceived that the girl was suffering, and pitied her, while she trem-
bled at her frenzy.

" Say that again, and I will murder you \" retorted Josephine,
in the white heat of concentrated passion. " You will make me
remember that our old scores are not quite settled yet."

" I have no scores against ycu ;" said Ida, firmly. " The
past cannot return why refer to it ?"

252 ALONE.

Josephine regarded her fixedly, " You are wise I" she said,
presently, breaking into a contemptuous laugh. To another,
you would preach repentance you know I never repent I" and
with this strange speech, she quitted her.

Now that he had broken the matter to his daughter, the bride-
groom used the utmost celerity in the despatch of preliminaries.
The house was filled with workmen, upholsterers and cooks,
whose din destroyed the quiet of Ida's chamber, the only one left
unaltered. Josephine adhered to her resolution not to move a
finger in the preparations for the detested intruder's reception.
She would not go to the marriage, which took place at the bride's
father's, in the country. Mr. Read did not insist; he was
secretly pleased to be free for this evening conscious that he
could acquit himself more creditably, if her eyes were not upon
him. The wedding party was to be at his house, the next night
but one. The supper was in the hands of the profession ; Mr.
Read being too prudent to risk the probability of a grievous
mortification, by entrusting the most trifling arrangement to his
filial mar-plot.

It was dark when the bridal party arrived. The girls were
dressed, and in the drawing-room. Ida's picture of the bride,
drawn from Josephine's representment, was of an overdressed,
forward country girl, who had wheedled and flattered a man of
treble her age, into an offer of his hand and fortune ; and she
was puzzled by the elaborate toilette of the step-daughter. If her
aim was to outshine the creature she had described, she had cer-
tainly over-estimated the labor its accomplishment required. She
swept into the apartment with a hauteur, that made her diminu-
tive form appear two inches taller; her jetty hair, almost an
incumbrance from its length and profusion, dressed partly in
ringlets, partly in braids instead of, as she usually wore it at
parties, and as her father liked to see it in natural curls float-
ing upon her shoulders. This style gave her a juvenile air,
pleasing, heretofore discarded by the full-fledged woman she
acted to-night. Her robe was of white satin; the falling shoul-
ders and proud swell of the throat exhibited to fine advantage
by the low bodice. Ida was dressed in a silver-grey silk, with a
berthe of rich black lace; the throat-latch and cuffs of black
velvet and jet, making her extreme paleness more striking. Her

ALONE. 253

figure and expression of repose had its opposite in the impersona-
tion of splendid inquietude, which trod the rooms impatiently,
rustling and gleaming in the blaze of the chandeliers.

" They have come !" said Ida, with a pitying accent, she could
not repress, as Josphine turned deadly pale at the sound of
wheels. "We must meet them," and she took her hand. Hers
was fiercely thrown off. Repellant, defiant, she disdained sup-
port. The bride's brother and bridemaids had accompanied
her; but Ida scarcely remarked their muffled-up figures, as
"Miss Murray " "Miss Arnold" were named. Her eyes
and thoughts were for the new Mrs. Bead. Josephine's aver-
sion had hood-winked her. Ida subscribed to her "cool and
bold," as the solitary clause of the description that had the
slightest resemblance to the reality ; and " bold" was too coarse
an epithet for the polished indifference of a woman of the world.
She was not more than three-and-twenty, handsome, even in her
travelling apparel not "baby-faced" and went through the
introductions with a nonchalant grace ; touching Josephine's
cheek with her lips ; extending to Ida, the tips of her fingers,
and bestowing a fashionable nod upon the group of servants in
the hall ; then, escorted by her husband, led the way, up-stairs.
Josephine's face was balefully dark, as she resumed her walk.
It was a part of her retribution, although she would not see it,
that as she had slighted, and thrust aside others, whose rights
were equal with hers, she was to take a secondary place where
she had ruled so long.

The company were assembled, before the happy pair made
their entry. Charley was with Ida he was seldom far off
"November and June !" exclaimed he, aside. "Its enough to
cause a man to forswear your sex, to see such a being a voluntary
victim upon the altar of mammon."

Ida caught his arm; and seeing that she was fainting, he
seized a bottle of cologne-water from the mantel, and dashed a
handful into her face, so quickly and dexterously, that his nearest
neighbors did not understand the movement. The powerful per-
fume recalled her scattering senses. Charley put her in the
corner of a sofa ; and placed himself in front of her, to screen
her from observation, until her agitation should subside. It was
quickly over; and only remarking "You cannot get through
22

254 ALONE.

the crowd just yet sit still I" he continued fanning her, \nd
chatting, as if her illness were the most natural thing imagina-
ble, a matter of no moment. His eyes were as busy as his
tongue; and in their apparently aimless rovings, no group
escaped scrutiny. He was fairly at fault ; and opposed as the
conclusion was to the premises he had assumed, was compelled
to refer her attack to physical causes. Once, he fancied he saw
an imploring agony in her eye, which entreated for help or com-
fort ; but while he looked, it disappeared, leaving a serenity that
rebuked his suspicions.

" Who is this Mr. Read is convoying this way ?" he inquired.
" I ought to know him."

"He is a stranger to me," replied Ida.

" Miss Ross, Mr. Copeland fears you will not recognise him,
without a second introduction," said the host.

" And Mr. Copeland's fears were not groundless," said that
gentleman, when his brother-in-law was out of hearing. " A
less modest individual than myself might be dubious of the
durability of an impression, made under such circumstances, as
our briefest of brief interviews, when I could have been, at
best, but a fourth-rate attraction. Mr. Dana I believe ! I need
not excuse myself for not observing you before. This is a bril-
liant assembly, Miss Ross. I have been rating my excellent
brother-in-law" there was the least curl of scorn upon his
handsome mouth as he pronounced these words " for deserting
this galaxy of beauty to seek a mate in our gloomier regions."

"Isolated stars often dispense more light than the millions
composing the galaxy," answered Ida.

" I have thought the same since I reached this corner," he
returned, gallantly. " I parted with a friend of yours, yester-
day, who would not have granted me time to say a word for
myself, if I had engaged to deliver a quarter of the messages
he charged me with."

" Ah ! who was so unreasonable ?"

" Mr. Germaine," he replied, smiling, as the blood rose to her
cheek. " He enacted Telemachus last summer, with a difference
in the object of his search."

" But with a like termination," said Charley, who seemed to
understand the allusion.

ALONE. 25o

" Yes as it proved; but he did not know it at that time. He
called by to see me on his way home. He was in a deplorable
state of mind ; but I am happy to say that the consolations of
friendship were not unavailing. I have succeeded in inocula
ting him with hopes of more fortunate chances in future. Yes-
terday, he was ready to swear with Barnadine, that he would
not die that day for any man's persuasion.' "

"Had he been long absent from his own neighborhood?"
asked Ida. "Did he speak of Dr. Carleton's family?"

"Frequently. They are in their usual health, I believe,
although he was not explicit upon this point; all ideas con-
nected with Poplar-grove having a marked proclivity backward.
Last summer' was the starting-point and terminus of his dis-
course to me. I am going to say something rude, Miss Ross.
Ls the lady by the pier-table your cousin-german ?"

" What if she were my sister ?"

" I should say, with all frankness, that I could not detect the
family likeness. As she is not related by consanguinity or
affinity, we will hope, benevolently, that her attendant is not
constituted like my sister, who faints at passing a freshly-
painted house ; and furthermore award her praise for her libe-
rality. You have heard of the clay that lived with roses do
you think that gentleman would appreciate the apologue ?"

Ida and Charley laughed, although the remark might have
been considered ill-natured. The pure red and white of the
lady's face remained intact, but the gentleman's coat-sleeve had
received a bountiful donation of flour or chalk from the snowy
arm resting upon it.

" Is not that your friend, Miss Read ?" pursued Mr. Copeland.
"A pretty casket, but how frail to enshrine the spirit that
speaks in those orbs ! There is stirring music there, or I am
mistaken. Hear me, Miss Ross, before you annihilate me by a
second look of reproof. We simple yeomen do not get away
from our farms often ; and not above once in a lifetime happen
upon such a godsend as this is, for adding to our slender stock
of information. I am a boy of an inquiring mind, and my venera-
ble and respected father's parting injunction was to keep my eyes
and ears open. You believe every word I am saying I see it
in your countenance. You do not fear to accept my arm for a
promenade ? Mr. Dana au revoir."

256 ALONE.

" I am afraid you have chosen an indifferent cicerone/' said
Ida.

" How unjust ! I repel the insinuation, and to prove my inno-
cence, will not ask a question concerning any one but yourself."

" I will answer those upon any other subject more readily."

" I had not expected to find you one who would shirk inquiry
into her character and actions. Luckily I am not deputed to
institute it. You do not flirt, I understand, Miss Ross ?"

Never Why the question ?"

" It is the principal amusement here, I observe ; and that
reminded me of my curiosity to behold you, when I heard that
you were, in this respect, an anomaly in your sex."

" Is your judgment so unsparing?" said Ida. "I know many,
whose sentiments and practices coincide with mine ; but before
we dispute, let us have a clear sense of each other's meaning.
What is your definition of flirting ?"

" With men, it signifies paying attentions that warrant the
expectation of courtship : a formal declaration, or expressions
which are tantamount to it, when we have no inclination or
intention to fulfil an engagement of marriage. The man who
does this, incurs the opprobrium of the community, unless the
lady is as great an adept in the art as himself. Then, it is a
harmless sham fight ; no mischief done, and nobody to blame.
On the other side, the hapless wight, who is worsted by a
coquette, has to bear ridicule, in addition to his bruises. She
may beckon her victim on by smiles and blushes and half-uttered
fondness, actually give him the pledges, and admit him to the
privileges of an accepted lover; and then laugh in the face of
the fond fool, whose peace she has wilfully destroyed ; and this
sensible, charitable world claps its hands, and shouts bravo !
for a clever woman !' "

" No woman will acknowledge the truthfulness of this sketch,"
rejoined Ida. " I have seen unthinking girls act thus ; but we
are cognizant of the crime not its punishment, which is inevita-
ble and severe."

" They settle down generally, like their neighbors, to a home
and a husband," said Mr. Copeland.

" This is their outward lot ; who knows their inner life ?"

" The inner life of a woman ! who, indeed ! what a tissue of

ALONE. 257

contradictions it must be ! Follow my eye, Miss Ross. Do you
see that Peri with cerulean eyes, who is bowing to that gentle-
man's petition for 'the pleasure of her hand?'" Again, that
blanching cheek, as she murmured ' yes.'

" It is Lelia Arnold my sister's bridesmaid. She is the love-
liest and gayest girl in the room ; you would say that she could
not exist, but in this hot-house of flattery and pleasure. Last
spring she went on a visit to a sick friend, and for four months
we lost sight of her. She resides about six miles from us ; and
we were notified of her return by her driving over, one day,
attended by a handsome fellow, brother to the 'dear Annie '
with whom she had been staying. The truth was out ! The
parade the family made of her disinterestedness and attachment
to the invalid deceived my sister, but not me. She aims at uni-
versal fascination; this Lacy has prepossessing manners and
appearance, talent, and it may be, money. Her four months'
nursing was a judicious outlay. Helen Mrs. Read, declares
there is no engagement; but I retain my opinion. She is,
to-night, la reine du bal; on Sunday, she will kneel, in Church,
the most angelic vision that ever was vouchsafed to a Catholic's
prayers ; relate a tale of woe, and the eyes now dancing in mirth,
will be dewy with tears ; if you are worth winning, she is the
tender, love-beseeching girl. I am the only one who quarrels
with her. The first time, I was ready to blow my brains out, for
my brutality. I think now I shall wait for a more convenient
season. She is

'A perfect woman, nobly planned,
To warn, to comfort, to command,'

minus a heart !"

" Are you well advised of this ?" Her voice was very low.

" I wish I were as surt of a diudem ! and if I had it, I will
not be my own security, that she could not coax it from me, in
five minutes after it came into my possession. Do not imagine
this a digression from the subject. I could tell you of an exile
from his native land, driven thence by her falsehood ; of one,
with high intellect and gigantic energies, paralyzed by his fall
from the dizzy height, to which her promises had raised him;
and the snow, this winter night, enwraps another pierced heart,
as cold as that which moves her fleecy drapery. What do you
22*

258 ALONE.

say now, Miss Ross ? Does the world heap no honors, lavish no
applause upon, her ?"

" I do not know how to believe you I" said Ida, putting her
hand confusedly to her forehead.

" It is no private scandal; I do not retail such, the facts
are notorious. Yet ask Helen ask any woman who ( knows
society/ and she will certify to the frequency of these occur-
rences 'crimes' you called them and the impunity with
which they are committed."

" It is a crime !" said Ida, wildly; an atrocious crime !"

" My dear Miss Eoss ! one would think you were reprobating
a highway murderer ! Recover yourself the perpetrators are
your acquaintances and friends. Another set, Helen ! does Mr.
Read take the floor, too ?" he said to his sister, with the mock-
ing smile Ida had noticed once before.

" I do not know ;" she replied, carelessly. " He can take
care of himself "

" Having nearly arrived at years of discretion ;" he concluded
the sentence.

Ida did not like the unnecessary taunt, nor the smile with
which he turned to her.

" Your naive abhorrence of flirtation, emboldens me to ask
another question. Has disinterested affection an abode upon
earth ?"

" Are you infidel there also ?" said Ida, lightly.

"You evade. I ask no reply but that. You are a believer;
and while I was telling my story, your mind was running
through the details of conduct, diametrically opposed to our fair
friend's yonder."

It was a random shot ; but that it told, he was assured by
the nervous tremor of her arm; and kindly violating hjs promise
not to be inquisitive about his fellow-guests, returned to his jest-
ing strain.

It was well that he did. She was fearfully tried. At Miss
Arnold's entrance, she had known the original of "Lelia's"
miniature; but cowering at the unexpected ordeal she must
undergo, while she was beneath the same roof with herself, took
refuge in the hope that she was deceived by an accidental resem-
blance. Mr. Copeland had torn down this frail shelter, and

ALONE. 259

added a new sorrow to the burden that was crushing her. Why
was she made to hear this recital ? Was there a " special Pro-
vidence" in his being Mr. Germaine's friend, and singling her
out among a hundred strangers? What directed his mind into
the channel it took ? what pointed his finger to Lelia Arnold,
and thereby probed her heart to its core ? She had taught her-
self to think of, and pray for his wife the good and beautiful/'
but not for this heartless coquette " not for her ! oh ! my
Father ! I could have borne anything but this I" she cried, in
bitterness of spirit. It was an experience which smites many
with sore amazement that it is easier to learn resignation for
ouselves, than for those we love. She had begun her uninviting
journey meekly ; but rebelled that a cloud lowered over him.

Night, morning passed the afternoon was upon the wane,
ere she gained fortitude of body and spirit, for a re-encounter
with the formidable stranger. A prop to her resolution was
applied by Rachel, who " thought them young ladies must be
having a mighty dull time. Mrs. Read nor Miss Josephine
didn't leave their rooms from breakfast to dinner; and looks
like they meaned to stay thar, till plump night; and Miss
Murray and Miss Arnold are wandering about, like lost sheep.
I wish you was well enough to sit with them awhile, Miss Ida."

Matters were much as she had represented. Miss Arnold
was watching the passers-by, with an enmtyte air, and Miss
Murray lounging in an easy chair, with a book. The latter
arose with a cordial air.

" I am glad you are able to be with us again. You seem
feeble, and we were uneasy lest fatigue might have made you
sick."

Miss Arnold bowed distantly, and held herself aloof, during
the dialogue that ensued. Ida gathered courage as she wit-
nessed her uninterested attitude, which could hardly have been
feigned. She had not recognised her ; or as she reflected, in
her humility, was more probable, had never heard of her. The
thought was unflattering, but there was relief in it. Miss
Murray was affable and unaffected ; her features only redeemed
from plainness by their agreeable expression. They talked of
the distinctive traits of town and country life. She " had never
resided in the city," Miss Murray said, but had attended Mr.

260 ALONE.

Purcell's school one session." Ida inquired " when ?" and
heard that they were there together, but in different classes.

" I do not remember seeing you," said she.

"But 7 kne\y your face, yesterday afternoon;" was Miss
Murray's reply.

" Carry Carleton was your desk-mate, and Anna Talbot sat
before you."

They were at no loss for topics now ; and " Alice" and Ida"
superseded the formal " Miss."

" I read of Carry's marriage in the papers, but the name of
her caro sposo has slipped my memory ;" said Miss Murray.

"Dr. Dana, he is an excellent young man; handsome,
amiable, and has a high reputation as an intelligent man, and
skilful physician."

"Dana ! was there a gentleman of that name here last night?"
asked Alice.

" Yes his brother."

"He was introduced to me;" and she laughed. "He is
an original. I was highly entertained by his humorous say-
ings."

She was interested in Ida's graphic limning of his character.

" He is an intimate friend of yours, then ?"

" One of the best I have ; the kindest of brothers."

"I knew he was as good as funny, from his face. You saw
him, Lelia?"

" "Whom ?" asked she, without moving.

" Mr. Dana, the humorous gentleman, I talked to so long, by
the piano."

" I saw him, but heard no humor. I thought him very
stupid."

Miss Murray reddened. " Why, Lelia ! but you are not a
fair judge. If he had talked to you, you would not say so."

t( He ( bored' me for what seemed an eternity, but which, Mr.
Copeland, who released me, said was only ten minutes," said
she, carelessly.

Miss Murray was content she should be silent, after this mal-
apropos observation. Ida said "one must be well acquainted
with him to appreciate him." Miss Arnold measured her from
head to foot, and saying coldly, " I rarely err in a first opinion;"
turned her blue eyes to the window again.

ALONE.

The others were forgetting her in the deepening stream of
chat, when she came to the fire-place. "I am chilly!" she
said, and throwing one of the sofa-pillows at Alice's feet, seated
herself, and leaned her elbow upon her friend's lap. She was
bewitchingly lovely Ida owned; and so may have thought
Richard Copeland, who happened to enter, just as she was
settled.

" Rehearsing tableaux, young ladies !" said he. " Miss Ross
Miss Alice good evening. You play humility, I perceive,
Miss Lelia."

She did not offer to rise. " Do not I become the character ?"
she inquired.

" The character becomes you, at any rate. How have you
wiled away the day, Miss Alice ?"

Her sunshiny face made him as frank as herself, when he
addressed her.

"Oh!" said she. "In sleeping, reading and eating, I con-
trived to dispose of all but the past hour or two, of which Miss
Ross has kindly relieved me."

" I can testify to her adroitness in this particular," he replied.
She did a little time-lifting for me last evening. Have you
finished your official returns of killed, wounded and missing,'
Miss Ross ?"

" I suspect my bulletins would comprise most of the latter,"
said Ida.

And mine !" echoed Alice.

"There is one exception, at least," he returned, bowing.
" Decide between yourselves to whom the captive belongs."

"May I be umpire?" asked Miss Arnold, her cheeks dimpling
mischievously.

" When I was a boy, Miss Lelia, I read in an old spelling-
book, of two cats, who came to the scratch over a piece of cheese,
and agreed to refer its division to the monkey's arbitration. You
have read it too, and recollect the catastrophe."

He appeared to take pleasure in being as rude to her as the
letter of politeness allowed ; and she bore it patiently, without
relaxing her efforts to please and attract.

Where are Helen and Miss Read ?" he asked of Alice. "Do
all the duties of hospitality devolve upon Miss Ross ?"

262 ALONE.

" They are resting, I suppose, to be blooming at the party
to-night," replied she.

" Your roses, then, are not so precious. Is this so ?"

" Say instead, that they are perpetual," said Ida.

Alice blushed and laughed.

"Are we to be favored with your company, Miss Ross?"
inquired Mr. Copeland.

" No, I do not keep late hours until my health is confirmed."

"What a pity!" exclaimed Alice. "Do go! I shall feel so
strange, so lonely !"

" Mr. Copeland will prevent that ; and I make over to you
my interest in my friend, Mr. Dana, for one evening."

"Are you in the market for the first bidder?" said Miss
Arnold, with pretty archness, to the former gentleman.

If Miss Koss pleases. I intended to ask permission to
remain in my present quarters until the hour at which we ultra-
fashionables go to routs ; but if she banishes me sooner, I am
proud to do her bidding, hard as it is."

The lamps were lighted ; and Mrs. Read conferred the further
illumination of her presence.

" Where's your liege-lord, my lady ?" asked her brother; and
she replied, as she did, whenever she could, to inquiries con-
cerning him "Indeed, I do not know," and sank indolently
upon a divan. The large, slumberous eyes did not brighten at
his step in the hall ; and when she drew her dress aside to make
room for him, it was with more thought for the costly fabric,
than desire to have him near. Josephine came in, as the bell
sounded for supper. It was a cheerful meal, in spite of her
haughty silence, and Ida's inward conflicts. Alice Murray's
even spirits had an equalising effect upon the varied tempera-
ments around her ; Miss Arnold was witty and charming. Ida
could not deny her eyes the luxury of watching her animated
countenance. They feasted upon its beauty, until every thought
was merged in admiration; and this, while, Mr. Copeland's
sallies were exclusively for herself. Mrs. Read aroused from
her proud languor, and manifested a keen relish for the ridi-
culous, and satirical powers, not inferior to her brother's. There
was a veiled acrimony in their manner to each other, which
impressed Ida with the belief of some unsettled feud, never lost

ALONE. 263

sight of by either; and which she could not reconcile with
Alice's assertion, that he was Mrs. Read's best-beloved brother.
Their personal resemblance was marked ; but gay and caustic
as he was, there were scintillations of feeling in his dark eyes,
which had burnt out, or were smothered in hers. " And how
else could it be ?" she said to herself, as she looked at her dig-
nified guardian, transformed for the nonce, into the uxorious
husband ; and marvelled, for the thousandth time " What
made her marry him ?"

They were incredulous when Mr. Read said it was time to
dress for Mrs. Talbot's.

" You go with us, Richard ?" said his sister.

" I will meet you there; I must go to my hotel awhile first."

There could be no reason for this, yet Ida thought Miss
Arnold's brow clouded.

" Your hair was prettily arranged last night, Ida," said Alice.
" Will you give me a few hints as to my coiffure ?"

11 With pleasure. I was about to ask if I could assist you in
any way ?"

So, instead of going off to her " sanctum," she busied herself
in the dressing-room. Alice laughed and talked incessantly;
Miss Arnold was grave and mute, except when her maid paused
for directions. She objected, in the mildest of tones, that there
was not light enough upon her table, and thanked " dear, obliging
Alice," who sent a candle from hers, without fearing she could
not spare it.

" I never looked so well in all my life I" said Alice, clasping
her hands in pretended rapture. " I am all impatience to try
the effect of my beauty. You have won me one admirer, Ida
myself."

"Add me to the number," said Miss Arnold, and gliding up,
she kissed the rosy cheek.

" Lelia ! my darling !" screamed Alice. " My darling !
you are an angel ! Ida ! is she not lovely ?"

" Very !" said Ida, and she felt it. Alice said an affectionate
the rest a polite farewell; they drove off; and she went
very quietly to her chamber quietly though her hand was
pressed hard upon her heart; and her throat ached, as if iron
fingers were tightened around it ; and while they were dancing,

264 A L N E .

she was kneeling before that precious Bible, forgetting sorrow
and self in its sublime teachings ; hours before their return,
she slept, peacefully, happily such sleep as even in this life
" He giveth His beloved."

CHAPTER XXIII.

SUNDAY was rainy, and Ida was deprived of the opportunity
of judging whether Miss Arnold's church behaviour was as Mr.
Copeland had portrayed it. But she was to learn how just to
life another part of his description was.

The morning, yawned through in the other apartments, passed
swiftly in hers, in reading, study, and blessed communion with
her Heavenly Friend.

A low tap was heard at the door, and her "come in," an-
swered by Miss Arnold.

" Pray, keep your seat," said she, closing the door with a
shiver, as the cold draught from the passage blew over her ; " I
have ransacked the parlor book-case in vain for Sabbath reading,
and Alice said you could probably supply me."

" My little library is at your service," said Ida, parting the
curtains before a handsome set of shelves.

"You have quite an extensive collection;" remarked Miss
Arnold, patronisingly. She did not ask her to help her in the
selection, and Ida returned to her chair. Miss Arnold pulled out
one and another slowly, so as to consume as much time as pos-
sible in the occupation. Ida glanced up from time to time, to
see what choice she made. A modest volume, presented by Mr.
Lacy, stood near the centre of the top shelf; and she looked up
once as Miss Arnold was in the act of taking it down. She
watched her with suspended breath. She read the title and
title-page, and shutting it, raised her arm to replace it; but a
look of recollection flitted over her brow, and she re-opened it
at the fly-leaf. Ida dropped her eyes instantly to the page
before her, yet she saw as plainly as with her bodily organs of
vision, that after reading what was writ:en tbsre, "Miss Ida

ALONE. -65

Boss, with the regards of M. L.," a gaze of keen inquisition rested
upon herself, that the inscription was thoughtfully examined,
then the subject matter of the book, which was afterwards
restored to its place, and with another, selected at hazard, her
visitor moved gracefully towards her. " You have been so kind
to me to us during our stay here, that I am encouraged to
beg an additional favor."

Her silvery voice had a new tone, and it was as if a malicious
spirit repeated to Ida, "If you are worth winning, she is
the tender, love-beseeching girl." Hitherto, her conduct had
afforded decisive evidence that she was not worth the trouble.
She drove the whisperer away and answered politely,

" I shall be happy to oblige you."

" Then may I stay with you awhile ? This is such a dear,
home-like nook, and it is so dreary out of doors, and not much
better down stairs, for Alice is drowsy, and Helen invisible."

Ida would have acceded to almost any other proposition more
readily, but she submitted with forced complaisance.

" Go on with your reading. I shall retire if I interrupt you ;"
continued Miss Arnold.

" I have been reading all the morning ;" said Ida, seeing that
the other's book was untouched.

" And won't my talking annoy you ?" cried Miss Arnold with
childish pleasure. " I have so longed to know you better to
get nearer to you ! Bear with me while I say it ; you are so
not exactly stern to me but so distant ! That it was not your
nature, I discovered from your demeanor to Alice. I could not
but love you for your goodness to her; and child that I am I
would have entreated you to care for me a little in return but
you froze the words upon my lips. I have cried over it after I
went to bed at night. Will you not tell me truly why you dis-
like me?"

The violet eyes were sparkling through tears.

"I was not aware that I was so frightful," replied Ida,
smiling. " My coldness was imaginary, or unintentional on my
part, Miss Arnold."

"There 1" said the beauty reproachfully; "it was Alice'
before you had known her a day."

" Because wo were old schoolmates."
92

266 ALONE.

"Strangers, nevertheless. Come, Ida be my friend will
you not?"

Could a false flirt copy Carry's look and tone so faithfully ?
and she kneeled upon the rug, as she had done on that November
night, when she said, "Love me, Ida!" She could not resist
the temptation to lay her lips against the snowy forehead,
beneath which those matchless eyes beamed with love and grati-
tude. She would have recoiled as that satiric whisper again '
hissed through her heart; but the soft arms were around her
the beautiful head upon her shoulder.

"I am not the butterfly I seem, Ida; nor is the ephemera
gaiety, in which you see me floating, my proper sphere. I have
not your unwavering principle your independence; I cannot
of myself say to the world, I hate your vain pageantry, and
pine for a nobler life !' Often, often I feel when the din of
pleasure is loudest, that I am bound to a wheel whose revolu-
tions I cannot control. Show me how to be happy."

"There is but one happiness which cannot die," said Ida,
with an effort. "You do not require that I should point you
to that !"

Her look of sorrowful deprecation was touching. " I know
what you mean," she replied, subduedly. " You would intimate,
that professing as I do, to be trying to lead a Christian's life, I
ought to be as familiar with the path as yourself; but I am a
child too much the toy of impulse and fancy. I have been a
pet from my infancy ; have leaned upon the judgment abided
by the decision of those I love ; and you cannot conceive of the
difliculty I have in acting for myself, and in opposition to their
wishes."

This was plausible. Ida wished from her inmost soul, that
she had never heard Richard Copeland's story, which, after all,
might have been coloured, if not sketched by prejudice, or
revenge for some slight to himself. She would have taken this
young girl, his betrothed, to her bosom, and soothed her fears,
:iad stimulated her failing resolves. But the conviction of her
heartlessness was too strong upon her; and her upright nature
forbade the assumption of an appearance of confidence she did
not feel. She spoke, indeed, as freely as she could of the lovo
pities and forgives our infirmities a-nd backsliding? ; but

ALONE. 267

Lelia shook her head dejectedly. She " had not reached her
case. I thank you, though, and love you!" She drew her
cheek down to her lips. " Have you had much sorrow ?"

" Not more than falls to the lot of many, more deserving of
exemption. Why ?"

"Your serenity is BO remarkable; you seem never to have
suffered."

"The ocean is calm sometimes," said Ida, unconsciously.

" That is not your emblem," rejoined Lelia. " It is mine ;
ruffled by every breath dark in storms flashing and laughing
in sunshine always changing, yet always the same and, ah !
who believes that there are treasures under the waters which are
worth the seeking?"

" The ocean is constant in nothing except change," said Ida.

" That is the surface I" she spoke exultingly

"The water is calm and still below;

For the winds and waves are absent there,
And the sands are bright as the stars that glow
In the motionless fields of upper air."

" Those are fine lines !" said Ida. They were recited with a
purity of tone and emphasis that lent them an additional charm.

" They are Percival's," was the reply. " I love poetry, if I
have not, like one of my friends, received the poetic afflatus.
Ah ! Improvisatrice ! did you think me ignorant of your glorious
gift?"

"You honour my petty talent by a higher name than it
aspires to earn. Your informant was given to exaggeration."

" You do not ask who it was !" cried Lelia, peeping into her
face. "Ah! that blush! you surmise. Now my demure dar-
ling, how will you excuse yourself for not having breathed his
name in my hearing, when you knew how deep my interest is in
all .relating to him or his connections?"

This query was ably turned ; but Ida's habitual self-control
?aved her from the pitfall. She would know and confess
nothing.

And you dare look in my eyes and deny one of your best
friends ?" said Lelia.

"I deny no one. The merest acquaintance may have imparted
this information."

268 ALONE

"It was not a casual acquaintance. Shall I name him?"

" If you choose," said Ida, with quickened pulsation.

" Then it was Mr. look at me ! Mr. Germaine !"

The blood flowed regularly again. Miss Arnold's ruse, if
such was intended, failed signally; and Ida shortly had cause to
congratulate herself upon the equanimity she had maintained
through the interview.

Leila's friendliness continued without abatement; and her
predilection for her society was openly manifested. She invited
her to walk on Monday afternoon, and was inconsolable for her
refusal until Richard Copeland offered himself as a substitute.
Alice rode out with Mrs. Read and Josephine; and Ida lay
down at dusk upon a sofa, within a recess of the parlor. She
soon dropped into a light slumber ; and thought that she was
dreaming still, when she heard voices, and saw, 'twixt sleeping
and waking, two figures, dimly visible in the fire-light.

"You are cruelly unjust, Richard. Why seize upon every
pretext to attack and wound one who never had an unkind
thought of you ?"

"Because I have no respect for you, Lelia," was the cool
rejoinder. " Your trifling is disgraceful inhuman \"

"I never trifled with you."

" For the best of reasons you never had the chance. You
will affirm too, that you did not design to coquet with Hilton
or Sheppard."

Their unhappiness was the fruit of their own blind folly."

" Blind folly' it was to love a heartless woman! And this
Lacy are you retaining him as a corps de reserve f"

"He is nothing to me ."

An ejaculation of extreme disgust interrupted her. "Now this
is too much ! Do you think then that a solitary manosuvre has
been unnoticed by me? that I have not divined even the motive
of your altered behaviour to Miss Ross ? You have either
guessed or heard what has been told me within a day or two
that he was her lover last winter either discarded, or engaged
to her now. Have a care ! you may be foiled with your own
weapons! Adieu t" His mocking laugh rang through the
room. Lelia remained where he left her; the ruddy glare
lighting up features contorted by anger or grief. ' Can it be ?"

ALONE. 269

ehc said " But, no !" she smiled, contemptuously. "A made-
up tale to work upon my jealousy ! That matters not at
present but this yet I am not discouraged he is the only
one !" and muttering over " He is the only one !" she lifted
her bonnet and shawl, and carried them from the apartment.
Astonishment had chained Ida's limbs and tongue after she
realised that she was awake. She grew weak and sick at the
accomplished duplicity of one so youthful, so faultless in
seeming; the windings of her arms about her neck her
kisses were like the coil and sting of a serpent. She detected
the artfulness of her pretended confidence ; her lures to inveigle
her into some embarrassment or admission which would betray
her acquaintance with Mr. Lacy. She had suspected her then ;
the change of manner followed too soon upon the recognition of
the handwriting. She rejoiced that the house was to be freed
of her on the morrow. If he could be warned ! but this was a
prohibited subject to thought as to words, and she was learning
how to govern both. There was a soiree that evening, and Ida
had never been more happy to see company. Alice and Lelia
came together to her room to say farewell, for they were both to
start early in the morning. She tried to treat them alike, but
her regrets at losing them were addressed to Alice ; and if they
were heartfelt, the sigh of relief, with which she turned the bolt
after them, was equally sincere.

The bridal festivities were not over until after Christmas, but
Ida avoided further participation in them by spending holiday
week at Mr. Dana's. She was invited expressly to meet Carry
and Arthur, and, although the precedence belonged to them, as
more unfrequent visitors, she was installed in the seat of honour
as chief guest. Carry inveighed against Mr. Read's marriage,
and was anxious to learn whether it would render her position
more unpleasant. Ida thought not : her heart said this could
hardly be, but she spoke hopefully of the wholesome check Mrs.
Read's elegant propriety would be upon Josephine's brusqueness.
" They will not agree at first, for Mrs. Read, if she does appear
too fond of her ease to contend, is not deficient in resolution ;
yet the end may be mutual endurance and forbearance. In any
event I shall remain neutral. Who knows, Carry, but, un-
promising as the field is, I may do as well as suffer, even there?"
23*

270 ALONE.

They were alone in Carry's room. "There is one subject,
upon which I wish to speak to you;" said the latter, seriously.
" Has Arthur said anything to you of himself?"

" No not particularly."

He vas always too good for me," pursued Carry. " You
need not hold up your finger so threateningly but for a year
past, I felt that he was growing better, while I made no progress.
After we were married, I discovered that he was in the habit ot
the daily study of his Bible, and secret prayer. I did not hint
that I knew it, for it was too sacred a matter for mo to touch.
Ida ! I suffered ! he had a care which I could not share was ill
at ease, and I must not cheer him. When you wrote, recounting
the alteration of your views and prospects, he unsealed his heart
to me. He had long sought peace, without finding it; but
latterly, had experienced a glimmering hope he feared to divulge,
so faint was it that he was a child of Grod. I wept for joy and
grief joy, for I was sure, although he was not, that he was a
Christian; and grief at my own hardness of heart. His light^
has burned brighter and brighter every day ; and he is prepared
now to avow it to his friends and the world. He says your
fearlessness, in declaring your principles, filled him with shame,
and urged him to emulate your example."

Here was one sheaf an earnest of whitening harvest. The
barrenness of opportunities for serving and honouring her
Redeemer, was a troublesome stumbling-block. Her sphere of
usefulness was so limited ; and she had talents, which might be
deployed to some purpose in a larger arena. The glowing zeal
of a young convert called for action. In a moment of discontent
with herself, and perhaps with her situation, she had expressed
this to Charley, who silenced her with one line

"'They also serve, who only stand and wait/"

The intelligence of Arthur's conversion was an unlooked-for and
refreshing element in her week's felicity. "Now, Charley, one
thing more I" she said, when they were talking it over. She
seldom made a pointed appeal, although he always took it kindly.
He did not reflect her smile he only said, gravely ; " You
cannot desire it more than I do, Ida."

Invigorated in soul and body, and with a bounteous store of

A L ONE. 271

loviug memories heaped up for the time of famine, she sought
her uncongenial home. " Ah, well ! it's allers been my expe-
rience that molasses and water is mighty apt to sour, if it's kept;
and it don't deceive me now," remarked the oracular Rachel,
with the decline of the honeymoon. The metaphor was apt.
Mr. Head's fondness was the saccharine that qualified the insi-
pidity of his wife's apathy. He had been elevated to the
seventh heaven of ecstacy, at his triumph over a host of rivals,
younger than himself. Her evident preference had incited him
to the contest, and he had no misgivings of its reality. She was
' a splendid woman I" He delighted in exhibiting her ; and
icaring this from all sides, with compliments and congratula-
tions to himself. But this renewal of youth was evanescent.
He had counted more than half a century she, not a quarter ;
and outraged nature revenged herself for his infatuation in striv-
ing to overleap this mighty gap. She was a " splendid woman !' ;
that was unquestionable; but as he mounted guard, from ten at
night to two or three o'clock in the morning against the wall of
the assembly-room, waiting for her to despatch the list of part-
ners that covered both sides of her tablets he tired and moped,
and stupidly wondering if the radiant creature, whose laugh came
to him with each whirl of the interminable waltz, were in truth
married, and 7iis wife ! it is problematical if he derived perma-
nent consolation from the well-timed praises of his old friends,
who facetiously inquired if he were not "jealous of his pretty
bird" or felt greatly flattered by the fine things, comparative
strangers were saying about " his daughter." She was a " splen-
did woman !" and she shone most at the largest party of the
winter, where everybody danced (she most sylph-like of all)
except the papas and mammas, and the "past-worthy" chaperons.
The rooms were hot : the dancers must have air the window?
were robbed of their sashes. Mr. Read was in a draught what
of that 1 the reflection of his wife's splendor should have warmed
him. She was not uncomfortable ; so she glided and pirouetted
and swam by in the polka, and he shook as if he were afflicted
with a dance of quite another name. An attack of inflammatory
rheumatism was the finale. His life was in danger for awhile:
and to his wife's credit, be it said, she nursed him dutifully, ii
not affectionately, until he entered upon his convalescence.

272 ALONE.

A few morning8 after the doctors announced his safety, Ida
observed, at breakfast, that Mrs. Read was looking badly.

" Confinement in a sick-room does not agree with you, I fear,"
said she, with interest. "We must not let you fall ill, too.
Will you not delegate one of us to represent you this forenoon,
while you take a ride?"

" Constant attendance is unnecessary," she replied. " Here-
after, I shall not stay in doors as I have been doing. I thank
you for your offer, however. If I can avail myself of it, I will
do so."

" Why did he not come down to breakfast ?" asked Josephine,
ironically.

" He cannot leave his bed;" was the calm reply.

" Nor turn himself in it, I believe, madam ?"

" You are right."

" It must cost you a pang to surrender to another the privi-
lege of allaying his pains, and paying those endearing little
attentions, to which affection imparts such sweetness. How can
you think of it?"

" I do not consider my health unimportant."

"Not in comparison with his?" continued Josephine, pro-
vokingly.

" The duty is not rendered less imperative by any compari-
son."

" The pursuit of pleasure and ease is included in this prudent
care of yourself, I presume, madam?"

" In that, as in everything else, I shall consult my own incli-
nations."

" I did not know that a woman had a will of her own after
she married," retorted Josephine.

"I am not conscious of having lost my volition or free,
agency."

" And acting upon this unbiassed volition, you will occupy
your box at the theatre to-night. I saw a ticket upon the table
in the parlor."

" I shall be there ; but there will be room for you, and what-
ever friend you honor by accompanying."

" And this is conjugal devotion !" the suppressed wrath boil-
ing over, " After cajoling a feeble old man into marrying you,

ALONE. 273

you desert him upon a bed of languishing, where he is laid by
your follies, to flirt with your train of gallants in the most public
place in the city I"

" If you have more remarks of like import to make, I will
hear them in your father's presence, Miss Head," answered the
unruffled step-mother. " Miss Ida, please excuse my withdraw-
ing before you have finished your breakfast."

Josephine had emphatically picked this quarrel. She had
received no provocation, and combined with this disadvantage,
that of loss of temper. Chafing with anxiety to commence the
warfare she had declared, she was too eager to wait for a pretext;
and had plunged into a rash conflict, before estimating the
strength of the enemy's forces. Ida said nothing, until she was
ready to leave the room. She deemed it her duty to speak.

" Josephine," said she, mildly, " it is not my place to dictate
to you; but as a well-wisher, I warn you not to carry this
further. Constant dissension will be the only result. She is
inclined to live peaceably with you; and she will be a dangerous,
a powerful enemy."

" Have I asked your advice ?" said Josephine. Her scowl dis-
suaded Ida from a second remonstrance. In reckless audacity,
she proceeded straight to her father's chamber. It was pitiable
to see that gray-haired man helpless as infancy with disease,
and remember that his frayed thread of life was entwisted with
the golden cord of hers, who had barely attained the meridian of
her early womanhood.

Josephine's visits had been rare and brief, and his salutation
was surly. " To what am I indebted for this superlative plea-
sure?" he inquired, stretching his upper lip across his teeth, as
was his wont, when displeased.

" If I had supposed that my presence was conducive to your
comfort, no consideration should have detained me from you
sir," was the meaning rejoinder.

He did not answer, but moved uneasily, and asked his wife
for water. The goblet was nearest Josephine, and she held it
to him. "Lift my head I" he said, fretfully, "Ugh ! you hurt
me! this comes of your officiousness. Why couldn't you let Jiei
doit?"

274 ALONE.

" 1 regret, sir, that my unskilful touch is painful/' said Jose-
phine, " since you are to be dependent upon my cares."

"What the deuce are you talking about?" he demanded,
sharply.

The slumberous eyes surveyed her listlessly over the couch.

"My speech is blunt, sir; I learned it from you, and I hava
an inconvenient practice of saying what I think. Old men, -who
have young and fashionable wives, should not indulge in the
luxury of sickness. What woman, who has a right appreciation
of her charms, can hesitate what course to pursue, when a
decrepid husband is put in one scale society and a score of
beaux in the other ?"

His glare of impotent fury was demoniacal he was too weak
to control it. The liquid eyes were dreamy and motionless still.
The irascible old man jerked his head so that he could see her
face " Helen ! what is that girl driving at ?"

" She can best explain herself, sir."

" Speak!" he commanded, at the top of his tremulous voice.

" I hope you have made your will, sir ;" said Josephine,
deliberately.

"By my life, I will do it, and cut you off, without a copper,
if you parley much more !"

" You virtually severed our connection two months ago, sir.
A stranger has supplanted me in your heart and house ; and up
to this time, I have held my peace. This is my revenge. Your
idol, having used you for her pleasure and advancement, does not
mean that this sickness, caused by your doating indulgence,
shall fetter her dainty limbs. On the contrary, it frees her from
the restraint of your observation, the incumbrance of your
attentions."

She dropped each word slowly, purposely to aggravate his
impatience, which was now frightful. Manacled, bound down
by the fiery bands of his malady, he writhed, as upon a Procrus-
tean bed.

" Helen ! speak ! tell her she lies !"

" I never reply to inuendoes, sir." The eyes were passionless
as ever.

She is gentlenesH and patience personified," said Josephine

ALONE. 275

" Ask whom she will accompany to the theatre to-night and pray
her, your faithful wife to stay with you."

"The theatre!" he uttered. "Are you going, and with
whom ?"

" With Mr. and Miss Talbot ;" and save that she fastened
her gaze upon him, instead of her, she looked and spoke the

" The Miss,' is an adroit addenda," sneered Josephine.

Her father was silent. His selfishness was wounded. He
was angered and mortified that his wife should consign him to
the care of others and find enjoyment in gay recreations, while
he lay crippled and racked; but he detected the spring of Jose-
phine's interference, and pride cried loudly that her impertinent
malice should be punished. A study of his wife's determined
face settled the point. If they differed, the mischief-maker should
not know it. Hark you !" said he, with sudden composure.
" I see your game, my lady, and you may as well throw up your
cards. I am master in my house, and there is no law against
turning you out of it. I thought I had taught you this already.
I have a piece of advice, you will do well to bear in mind.
Attend to your own business, and let your betters alone. Now,
be off! and don't let me see you again until you can behave
yourself."

" I obey you, sir. If you want my services, I trust you will
send for me."

Mr. Eead was awkwardly embarrassed, when left with his
wife. Domineering and stubborn as he was, she awed him.
Her haughty endurance of his foolish fondness gave him no lien
upon her affections ; and the sang-froid, she had preserved under
Josephine's insolence, was a bad augury of the efficacy of
reproaches. She consulted her watch, and informed him that it
was the hour for his medicine ; administered it, and shook up
his pillow.

" Helen," said he, coaxingly, " are you in earnest about leaving
me? What shall I do ?"

" Sarah will wait upon you. I have the utmost confidence in
her fidelity."

" "But what is a servant's nursing, after yours?"

" It is a pity you entertain this repugnance to every one's

276 ALONE.

attentions but mine. My health and spirits are injured by
fatigue and want of rest. You are recovering, there is no abso-
lute necessity for my remaining with you ; and it is necessary
that I should take care of myself. We had best suspend this
discussion, Mr. Read. You have been too much excited this
morning ; and arguments are useless, as my plans are made."

And " my plans are made" became the law of the household,
Josephine excepted, who had her schemes also. There was an
ominous calm. Mr. Read mended gradually. His daughter's
resentment outlived his ; but his pride was as inflexible as hers.
She would not enter his chamber, and he would not recall her.
His wife performed mechanically a routine of duties, self-enjoined,
as covering all that could be required of her. The residue of her
time was devoted to the world, out of which, she did not seem
to live. She held her position as leader of the ton. She was
the best-bred, best-dressed, and best-educated woman of her
circle. No party was complete without her ; and none vied with
hers, in elegance and agreeableness. People gossipped, and
prophecied, and pitied her "poor old husband" courted and
aped her. Ida had made a public profession of her faith, and was
humbly " waiting." Her health did not now debar her from
mingling in society ; and she could discern neither wisdom nor
piety in a hermit's life. Her re-appearance amongst them was
hailed with acclamations by most of her acquaintances. Some
were shy for a time, thanks to Josephine's exposition of her
" strait-laced notions ;" but her cheerful frankness banished their
reserve ; and if not so noisily admired, she was more beloved
than in her palmy days.

She was one evening at a " sociable" at Mrs. Morris', the
cynosure of a group, the liveliest in the room, for it comprised
Ellen, Mr. Thornton, Charley, Mr. Germaine, Mr. Villet, and
Richard Copeland. Charley was relating an amusing story ; and
Ida's peculiarly contagious laugh created as much merriment as
the anecdote.

" Miss Ross is ever happy," said Mr. Villet. " Your being
devoid does not make you sad, morose comme d I ordinaire."

A glance of apprehension was exchanged by some of the circle ;
and Ida colored, as she replied, smiling, I do not know why it
should, Mr. Villet,"

ALONE. 277

The Frenchman shrugged his shoulders : " Nor I ! I do not
comprehend these affairs myself, but it is usual, I believe, for the
visible visage to elongate with the expansion of the gu'est ce ^
gue c'est? grace in the soul."

There was a laugh. Charley and Ida were grave ; and Mr.
Villet's politeness took the alarm. " I entreat your pardon,
Miss Ross ; I did not meditate an offence."

"You have given none," answered she. " You would not
knowingly make sport of what you must respect. Religion is
not gloomy, nor is it ridiculous."

" Its professors, with some honorable exceptions, are one or
the other," said Richard.

"This is their misfortune or failing, not the fault of the
system," returned Ida. " Mortal nature is fallible, Mr. Cope-
land."

" You admit it, then ?" said Mr. Thornton. The greatest
objection I have to pious people is that they do not permit this
indulgence to abused human nature. They wind themselves up
in their impenetrable cloaks of sanctification and perfectionism,
and send us no matter where for hankering after innocent
amusements. And if one of their caste beats time to a merry
tune, or shows his head inside of a theatre, he is run down as
if he had the hydrophobia. Such sermons as they preach about
the hand or foot offending ! It would be a wise precaution, in
my judgment, to make the amputation of the feet part of the
ceremony of initiation into church membership. You are superior
to such narrow-mindedness, I hope, Miss Ida ?"

" If narrow-mindedness' signifies drawing a distinct line of
demarcation between the church and the world, I shall come
under your lash, Mr. Thornton."

"And do you, candid and liberal as you are, declare that
there is sin mind you ! a ' want of conformity to, or transgres-
sion of the law of Grod' in moving through a certain form ol
steps to the sound of music ?" said he, indignantly.

" I do not profess to see sin in the mere act of dancing,"
replied Ida; "but I do not wish to argue, Mr. Thornton. If
nothing else forbade my joining in the amusement, it is prohi-
bited by the church to which I belong."

" Worse and worse ! Miss Ida, this is unworthy of you. It
24

278 ALONE.

is the Papal doctrine of depositing one's conscience in the priest's
pocket book. If your church commanded you to steal or kill,
would you obey '{"

" No ; for a higher law forbids it. I am bound to follow the
church only so far as it follows the Bible."

" But the Bible says there is a time to dance."

Ida smiled ; " I am surprised," said she, " that sensible per
sons should quote that poor text so frequently, as authority for
dancing. In the same connection we read, there is a time to
kill ;' you would be loath to defend a murderer who justified
his crime by an appeal to this passage. 'A time to die;' who
sees in this permission to shorten his days ?"

" And you must turn pavier, Thornton, because ' there is a
time to gather stones together,' " said Charley.

There was another laugh, in which Mr. Thornton joined
good-humoredly. " Weak as my text is, I am consoled by the
knowledge that you cannot produce one interdicting that which
reason and observation teach is not reprehensible."

" Not an explicit prohibition, perhaps," answered she, hesi-
tating.

" Well an implied one, then ?''

Ida's cheeks flushed, painfully, but her voice was firm as she
said, I read, Be ye not conformed to the world ;' and What-
soever ye do, do all to the honor and glory of Grod, 7 and my
conscience says I would be guilty of wilful disobedience to the
written commandment, and dishonor my profession, if I disre-
garded the plain meaning of these words/'

Charley had bided his time. She stood the test well, and he
came in to the rescue. " She is right, Thornton. You and I
know it why dispute it ? Only yesterday, you were laughing
at the inconsistency of the dancing Christians' you frolicked
with down the country."

" I commended their liberality, their freedom from supersti-
tion," interposed Thornton, still laughing.

" Humbug ! you said they have found a road to the Celes-
tial City, which our orthodox brethren about here do not patron-
ise ; have graded and widened the strait and narrow way we
read of, until it is as smooth as a ball-room floor ; and dance up
the shining route. I used to think some preparation was requi-

ALONE. 279

- site, before I could be fitted for heaven ; but I am comforted in
spirit since meeting them. My chance is as good as theirs in
the long run.' Those were your very words deny them if you
can, or that you were ridiculing them. You are, like myself,
more than a Sabbath-day's journey from being a Christian ; and
you assert that they are not much better off. The plain English
of which is, that you are consistent to your professions ; they
say they believe one thing, and practise the opposite. Pretend-
ing to despise the vanities of this life, they pursue them more
eagerly than the things which are unseen and eternal. If a man
unites himself with the church, let him live as if he were changed.
I go to the threatre, although I do not consider it the best school
of morals one can frequent) but it grieves me to see, in my
neighbor, a so-called pious man. I am ashamed for him my
respect for the reputation of his church is greater than his. I
dance and sleep afterwards with an easy conscience ; but if you
ever see me ' tripping on the light fantastic toe,' with an angelic
creature who is a communicant in a Bible-reading sect, you may
write it down as an immutable fact, that she asked me not I
her !"

Charley was lawless. Nobody criticised or was offended with
him; and Ida was always certain of finding in him, an ally and
advocate ; but grateful as she was for his ready aid, upon occa-
sions like the present, she prized more highly the counsels,
which his knowledge of mankind, and his undeviating sense of
rectitude qualified him to give. She had faults, he pointed
them out; she erred in judgment, he corrected the evil as far
as he could. The spectacle of his daily life was useful. He
possessed almost boundless influence over his associates, and
their attachment to him was close and strong. They under-
stood, intuitively, the worth of the inner man, never fully
unveiled to the majority of them, and could not but admire and
esteem. And Ida's constant thought of him was "If he, call-
ing himself unconverted, accomplishes so much what ought
not I a Christian, to attempt ?"

280 ALONE.

CHAPTEE XXIV.

MR. HEAD was in his private sitting-room; it adjoined his
chamber, and his longest walk was from one apartment to the
other. The sun beamed cheerfully through the damask curtains,
and the fire blazed and crackled in the grate ; but wrapped
in his wadded dressing-gown, his feet sunk heavily into a
cushion, and his face contracted into a fretful frown, he appeared
to be enduring the extreme of cold and discomfort. He was a
sorry picture of a three months' bridegroom. His surroundings
were tasteful and luxurious, books and papers and pictures and
handsome furniture, and at his elbow stood a silver hand-bell,
whose tongue would bring an obsequious servant, ready to per-
form his bidding ; yet his sigh, as he 'fidgeted uneasily in his
downy fauteuil, was a groan of repining. "Like a jaded old
hack! they won't knock him in the head, in consideration of
past services ; but he may die as soon as he can the quicker the
better !"

" The Northern papers have come, sir, and I thought you
would like to see them;" said a gentle voice. It was his ward.
A grunt and a gesture bade her put them upon the stand.

" Are you in pain this afternoon ?" she asked, sympathizingly.

" I am always in pain !"

" Can I do anything for you ?"

" No \" He reached for the papers ; but a twinge in his shoulder
forced him to drop them. Ida picked them up. The desolate
old man excited her sincerest pity.

" It must weary you, holding those large sheets ; and the print
is fine. If you will designate the articles you wish read, I will
do it for you with pleasure."

The offer was tempting, although its acceptance was ungra-
cious. He pointed to a piece, and she removed her bonnet and
seated herself near him. He did not inquire if she were going
out, and she did not make her sacrifice meritorious in his eyes,
by informing him that she gave up her walk to minister to hia
enjoyment. She read well ; her voice was exquisitely modu-

ALONE. 281

lated; her enunciation perfect ; Mr. Read forgot to be peevish,
and his corrugated forehead lost half its wrinkles. When she
ceased, he seemed to have been lulled by a strain of music. The
article selected was an editorial leader on political economy,
unintelligible and prosy to Ida; but she endeavored not to let this
appear. He nodded, and stripped the envelope from another
sheet. His eye gleamed, and with an approach to a smile, he
showed her six columns of an oration ; a grand effort of the
immortal sage of Marshfield. Ida was appalled at the superficies
of the solid mass, but she said over to herself, a verse she had
lisped at her mother's knee.

" Did I this day, for small or great,

My own pursuits forego,
To lighten, by a feather's weight,

The load of human woe?"

and began the terrible undertaking. The preamble over, she
became insensibly interested. Her soul-lit face and ringing in-
tonations supplied to the auditor, the actual presence of the
orator; he looked and listened until the light failed; then
rang for candles. Mrs. Read, returning from her airing, seated
herself silently by the fire. It was the prettiest domestic scene
that had ever been witnessed in that house; and how little
reality was there in its air of home-happiness I

" Is that all ?" asked Mr. Read, at supper-time.

" Almost, sir. I can soon finish it. I will not detain you Mrs.
Head." But she waited to hear the conclusion. A gruff "Thank
you," was Ida's only reward, besides the praise of her conscience;
and her tired throat obliged her to refuse Charley his favorite
song that night, but she did not repent. She volunteered her
services whenever she knew that there were new books or journals,
and at length, the latest intelligence was distasteful, unless it
came through her lips. It was a selfish gratification ; and she
did not delude herself with illusions of personal attachment. She
strove to live for the benefit and pleasure of her fellow-beings ; to
leave her interest and ease out of sight; and she could not have
been in a better school. The woman's heart was not still. There
were moments of weariness and longing, and passionate regrets.
The soul, refusing the realities, which made up the sum of every-
day duty, pined for the remembered "Dream Land ;" its retreat,
24*

282 ALONE.

and the scene of its holiday revels ; and when the aching and
thirst were at their height, it was a trial to smile at a caress from
Mrs. Dana, or a friendly act of Charley's dear and thoughtful
brother! when she could have rested her tired head. upon the
kind bosom, and wept her life away but she did smile, and
bore up bravely until God gave her strengh to rise above the
weakness.

The Sabbath was a season of delight. A band of little girls
watched eagerly for her at Sabbath-school. Inclement indeed
must the day be, that saw their form vacant ; for she was always
at her post, and regarded snow and rain as minor hindrances
when her flock nestled closely to " dear Miss Ida." No class
loved their teacher and their Bible so well as hers; her co-labo-
rers said she had a secret spell, by which she won and governed
them; and she had, for she was ever mindful that she had
another account to render than her report to the Superinten-
dent, and prayed that it might be " Those whom Thou gavest
me, I have kept, and none of them is lost." She loved her
pastor ; but her acquaintance with him was slight. He visited her
at stated times, and esteemed her an " amiable girl, with a credit-
able fund of general information ;" he "could not know the exer-
cises of all his members ;" and that a woman whose life was so
uncheckered, should have any difficulties and sorrows, but such
as are incidental to the experience of every Christian, never
crossed his brain. But he was a faithful expounder of the Scrip-
tures; and if he did not remark the changeful light of the eyes,
which never released him from the text to the " Amen" of his
discourse; she felt that consolations and advice so applicable,
must be meant for her ; and remembered him in her orisons, as
a Shepherd who eared for his sheep, and selected for each, food
convenient for him. She resolved repeatedly, to thank him for
his fidelity; but her courage melted when the opportunity
arrived ; and she would rebuke the vanity that bred the desire.
She read that in the primitive church, " those who loved the Lord,
spake often to one another ;" and imagined, in her simplicity,
that such intercourse would be of mutual comfort and profit ;
yet a seal was upon her mouth, und she waited and wished in
vain, for a word in the conversation of her brethren, which would
dissolve it. It was strange that she could speak freely and

ALONE. 283

heartily to Carry and to Charley, and be restrained by the pre-
sence of those, who had tasted like joys were bound upon the
same pilgrimage as herself.

There was an exception a minister from another State, with
whom she once dined at Mr. Dana's ; a merry-hearted, whole-
souled man, whose store of anecdote and pleasantry enlivened the
company at table ; and after dinner, gathering from a passing
remark, that she was a professing Christian, he sought her out ;
and while the rest, were busy about other matters, they were
talking of the " peace which passeth understanding," and the
home in preparation for them ; not with austere gravity, but,
easily and happily, as befitted a topic so inspiriting. They sepa-
rated not to meet again in time ; and Ida went on her way,
cheered and strengthened by the interview, and hoping to thank
him in heaven, for the seed he had sowed by the wayside not
in the Scriptural sense of the term.

Mr. Read's disease assumed a chronic type. Some days well
enough to transact business in person, then relapsing, in con-
sequence of trifling exposure or change of weather, his existence
was a series of anxieties und sufferings. Ida did not know how
she became his nurse ; Josephine would not endure his petulance,
and her retorts exasperated him ; and his wife was too deep in
the vortex of fashionable life to waste many minutes upon him ;
it was unjust and unfeeling to abandon him to the care of menials;
and as with her reading, what was a favor, voluntarily offered,
came to be regarded as a duty, expected and unrequited. The
Dauas objected to this thankless sacrifice; but she persisted.
It was during one of his worst spells, that an incident occurred,
which she did not heed at the time, but when recalled by sub-
sequent events, was fraught with meaning. It was in the evening ;
and she was on her way to the dining-room, to order a cup of
tea for the invalid, when the light streaming through a crack in
the parlor-door suggested the probability that the servant she was
in quest of, was lighting the lamps in there. She pushed the
door open. Mrs. Read was in the middle of the room, her face
averted, and her arm extended in repulsion or denial, towards
a tall, dark man, who was speaking in a low, excited tone.
" ( Forget I' I do not forget that circumstances are not what they
were then !" was all that Ida heard, as she retired hastily and

284 ALONE.

unseen. As she passed through the entry, she caught a noise, like
the rustle of drapery, but supposed it to be the waving of her
dress in the wind. Mr. Read was in agony; and Ida sent to
request Dr. Ballard's immediate presence. The messenger's
steps were not cold upon the stairs, when the sick man tor-
mented himself with impatience for the physician's arrival.

" If the servant had a pass, it was not signed if it was signed,
he had lost it if he had lost it, Ballard would wait to eat his
supper, before he came. I wish he had this shooting fire through
his limbs ! It would put 'some speed into his lazy body ! Ah !
there he is!"

It was Mrs. Read, who meeting the servant with the tea, and
hearing of her husband's state, had taken it from him. Ida,
pre-occupied as she was, noticed that she was pale and agitated.
Her voice too, was tremulous, and had a cadence that might have
been mistaken for tenderness.

" I grieve to see you so much worse. Drink this, it may
relieve you," she said, slipping her hand under his pillow to raise
his head. Ida sprang forward to arrest the movement. He was
Buffering excruciating pain in his neck ; and frantic at its aug-
mentation by this change of position, he dashed the cup to the
floor, with a shocking oath.

" You want to kill me ! I've seen that for a long time ; and
then you can flaunt to your heart's content. You can marry
whom you please, and make him rich with my money, like the
shameless wretch you are I" he yelled, distractedly.

The smothered fire leaped high the dark eye blazed with
wrath, but she uttered not a sound, as she turned from him. Ida
had never seen such a look in mortal face, and wild with fear
of, she know not what, darted after her, and overtook her in- the
dressing-room.

" Oh ! do not ! do not !" she exclaimed, flinging her arms
around the stately form.

"Do not what?" said the lady, trying to unlock her fingers.
Ida held her fast.

" Oh ! the horrible thing that is in your thoughts ! He is
mad with pain he did not mean did not think what he did.
He says as hard things to me, to every one but he loves you !
he does love you!" and dropping her head upon the lady's breast,

ALONE 285

she sobbed like a child. The haughty woman stood irresolute
passive in the tenacious grasp of the over-excited girl.

" He drove me from him struck me I" she said, in thick
accents. (( Why should I stay ?"

It was rather a soliloquy than a question, and Ida reiterated,
" He did not mean it ! he loves you !"

" Do you love him?" inquired the lady, lifting her face, and
gazing piercingly into it.

" I pity him," said Ida.

" Do you hate him ?" she asked, more energetically.

" JSfo, I hate no one."

" Yet you have cause."

"I try to forgive."

"You do not hate him!" repeated Mrs. Head; and again to
herself, she added, "/do!"

Ida let her go. " I pity him !" she said, with mournful
earnestness, "but I pity you more! doomed to a life of false-
hood and misery ! Heaven pity you as I do."

" Stay !" said Mrs. Head, as she would have gone back to the
chamber.-. "Do you despise me utterly? Am I lost?"

" Lost!' no while life and reason last, there may be room
for repentance."

"Repentance ! what had she, so queenly in her pride and beauty,
to do with repentance? yet the words seemed to strike her.
Mr. Read's querulous tones called "Ida!" "I must go," she
said. " Will you come ?"

" Not now presently."

The patient was slumbering heavily under the influence of the
medicine Dr. Ballard prescribed, when his wife rejoined her
assistant nurse lofty and unimpressible. She regarded the
sleeper long and fixedly. His hair was nearly white, and his
features pinched by sickness, but there was no softening of com-
passion in the rigid lines of her face. Setting her chair into the
shade, she was speechless and motionless for hours. They watched
him together all night j exchanging only brief remarks as to his
situation, and the remedies to be employed. He rallied from
this seizure, and Ida was as far from the brilliant worldling as
before.

An unexpected event attracted her from the retirement in

286 ALONE.

which her charitable functions had secluded her. Celestia Pratt
was married ! and to Ellen's chagrin, to a cousin of the Morris
family. He was good-looking, ambitious and poor; she sus-
ceptible a "Representative's" daughter, and rich. He wrote to
his aunt that they would take Richmond in the wedding-tour;
and she was obliged, nolens volens, to give them a party. Ida
was disinclined to attend; but Ellen's solicitations conquered
her reluctance. Mr. Cranleigh, the groom, was gentlemanly, even
handsome, and accepted the customary greetings with as much
complacency, as though his wife were not, as Ellen groaned to
Ida " Celestia, unmitigated Celestia !"

" A penny for your thoughts !" said Ida, tapping Charley's
arm with her fan.

" I was thinking what falsehoods geologists tell us about the
thickness of the crust of the earth, and how many years the
mines of Peru have been worked."

"A profound subject for deep meditation, but I am at a
loss"

"Why, allowing a thousand brides a week in the civilized
world, (and there are quadruple that number,) according to my
rough computation, the miners ought to be within hail of the
Chinese, or whatever nation is the antipodes of the Peruvians,
by this time."

" Their kindred craft, the jewellers, have been called upon by
the Celestia-ls," said Mr. Thornton.

" 'Pon my word !" remarked Pemberton to Josephine, " I
have heard of men who married for pretty/ but it's my opinion,
Cranleigh married for ugly."

Josephine laughed, but her attention was absorbed by some
object in another part of the room. " You know everybody,"
said she ; " who is that gentleman talking with the bride ?"

He knew everybody, and this must be nobody. He had
certainly seen him somewhere before it might have been at
Newport or perhaps in New Orleans, yet he could not call his
name. Why did she inquire ?

" A question by the way she was not curious. He had a
foreign air, and she fancied might be one of Mr. Pemberton'a
friends he had so many abroad."

ALONE. 287

He had, and it would be awkward not to recollect him, if he
should speak.

" There's Cranleigh ! he knows !"

The stranger's name was Ashlin, an early acquaintance of
Mrs. Cranleigh's, and later from the "West Indies.

" Had he resided there long ?" Miss Head asked.

" Two years nearly three, indeed."

Mr. Ashlin wfls graceful and distingut, and Ida was attacked
by an unaccountable curiosity. She interrogated the bride.

" What handsome man was that, you were conversing with,
awhile ago, Celestia?"

Her face was broad with smiles. " Law ! why Mr. Cranleigh,
my husband, to be sure ! Haven't you been introduced ? Here !
Mr. Gran"

" Oh ! don't !" said Ida. " I know him don't interrupt
him ! I alluded to that tall gentleman by the folding-doors."

" That's Mr. Ashlin. He used to live close by Pa's ; and
then his uncle died out in Cuba or "West India, I forget which
and he went off there, where he's been three years, rolling in
money they say. He's mighty smart too Tm 'most afraid of
him. Don't he look like a-a-cannibal 1" said Mrs. Cranleigh,
some reminiscence of New Zealand history coming to her help.

" His is a dark beauty, certainly," replied Ida, hiding a smile.
" I should say if he had not lived abroad, that I had seen his
face somewhere else."

"You needn't be setting your cap !" retorted the bride, spite-
fully. " He won't be so easy caught as that Mr. Euston, you all
think such an Adolphus. He's engaged."

Ah ! who is the fortunate lady ?"

A Miss Courtland, or some such name ; that is he was
engaged once, but, seems to me, I've heard that he jilted her,
and she married a rich old man for his tin/ "

" What did you call her ? Speak lower !" said Ida.

"Law ! you're scared ! what ails you?"

" Nothing nothing !" laughing. " You had as well be silent
about this Mr. Ashlin, he has quick ears, and gentleman do
not admire gossiping ladies. You have a splendid bouquet is
this Mr. Cranleigh's taste?"

And while the history of the courtship, from their meeting at

288 ALONE.

the " Sulphur Springs" to the present glorification, was pouring
upon her tympanum, she was arguing away her unjustifiable
suspicions. His general appearance was that of the gentleman
she had a glimpse of in Mr. Read's parlor; and Mrs. Read's
behaviour that evening was so extraordinary as to give colour to
the story ; But Celestia always garbled the simplest narrations,
murdering names and jumbling facts, until it was next to impos-
sible to arrive at the truth. A three years' absence, too ! How
nonsensical she was ! Her fears returned, however, with rein-
forcements, when he attached himself to Mrs. Read's cordon of
admirers. These were not all young men. Elderly gentlemen,
who had not lost their eye for fair faces, and taste for repartee,
were recipients of as gracious welcomes as were apportioned to
their youthful rivals ; and sagacious damsels, of doubtful belle-
ship and charms, crept beneath the wings of her popularity,
large enough to shelter a female favorite or so. Mr. Ashlin
entered the outmost precincts of this circle, and by imperceptible
advances penetrated to the centre of attraction. Mrs. Read
flushed slightly, with surprise or displeasure, as he established
himself by her side ; but nothing intimidated, he presently
usurped the management of the conversation ; holding up some
to ridicule so cleverly that they had only themselves to blame,
and did not suspect his agency j flattering others, until they
dropped off like surfeited leeches ; and angering some so openly,
that Ida, who was near enough to get an inkling of what was
transpiring, was assured that ho was playing for a rich stake.
His purpose was effected ; he had a clear field ; and with no
alteration of manner, unless a shade of respect moderated his
gay insouciance, he continued his attentions. No place is better
for a confidential confabulation than a crowded room, if the
parties understand how to conduct it. The initiated would have
surmised from an occasional gleam of the eye, and the varying
expression of that most uncontrollable of features, the mouth,
that something more important than sugared nothings was upon
the tapis; but to the purblind merrymakers, as a body, Mrs.
Read was examining a portfolio of prints, and her companion, a
travelled gentleman, descanting upon " High Art" in " the
States," as contrasted with the love for poetry, painting and

ALONE. 289

music, which, it was said, prevailed in gay, pleasure-loving
Havana.

Ida was surprised that Mr. Ashlin requested a presentation to
herself, and still more at the pertinacity with which he cultivated
the acquaintance he must see she did not desire. He triumphed
over her prejudice, inveterate as she had thought it. His air of
deep interest the admiration, too respectful to be conveyed in
words, which spoke in every look and action, were dangerous
flattery, and Ida was not invulnerable. But in reviewing the
events of the evening, distrust obscured the pleasing recollection
of his captivating address and the magic of his eloquence. Why
was it bestowed upon her a stranger, and so little attractive iu
her appearance ? Why, especially, should he have asked per-
mission to call ? He knew Mrs. Eead, and to her the applica-
tion should, in etiquette, have been made. There was a vague
apprehension hanging over her a foreboding, for which she
could assign no cause. He called, as he had promised, "at
an early day." The family were collected in Mr. Read's room,
when his card was brought to the lady of the house.

" Mr. Ashlin," she read. " Whom did he trek for, John ?"

" The ladies, ma'am."

Very well. Josephine, I will thank you and Miss Ida to
receive him, and excuse me."

" Excuse me, if you please !" answered Josephine, bridling.
" I scarcely know the gentleman, and do not covet the honour."

" Miss Ida ?" said Mrs. Read, inquiringly.

" Why not go down with me, ma'am ? Are you indisposed ?"

" You need not say so I am engaged. I really wish it," she
added, for Ida was undecided.

" Then I will go," said she, with a sensation cf infinite relief.

Josephine followed her out. "Beware, my lady-like

Tartuffe !" hissed she, sneering in baffled malignity. "You arc

mixing yourself up in a scrape which will not reflect much

credit upon the elect."

Her fiendish laugh was echoing after her, as Ida gained the
parlor.

Mr. Ashlin did not appear abashed or disappointed, upon
receipt of the apologies. He bowed, with a civil regret, and
25

290 ALONE.

seemed to forget that there were other ladies in the house or in
the world, than the one he was entertaining.

Ida's disagreeable oppression returned once, at his smile, when,
in reply to his inquiry, she stated that the portrait in the niche
spposite him, was Mr. Read's.

He got up to inspect it. To Ida, he was measuring himself
with it, as he straightened his Apollo figure, and expanded his
full chest.

"A good painting!" he observed. "How long since it was
taken ?"

Two years."

" The pencil of time is the best test of the value of a picture
to some it is a destroyer, it beautifies others. An excellent
piece of work !" still scanning it. " Is the likeness correct ?"

"Uncommonly or was, when it was painted. Mr. Read
looks older and thinner now, that his health is impaired."

Again that sinister smile ! but he said nothing more.

He called again, with a friend, an habitul of the house. It
was evening, and Mrs. Read saw them. The length of his stay
in Richmond was indefinite ; they were not sure but each visit
was his last ; and he, keeping up the uncertainly, came fre-
quently, at the hours which suited him best. Josephine,
succumbing seemingly, to the power of his wizard wand, freely
declared her dread of his departure; Ida felt as much when
with him, and revoked it, secretly, as soon as her eyes recovered
from their dazzlement. Mrs. Read treated him, as she did her
other visitors, and bore no part in the chorus of laudations
chaunted in his absence. When Mr. Read was well enough to
see company, he fell an easy conquest to the arts of the inimita-
ble stranger. "He was" he protested, "a better doctor than
Ballard. An hour of his society was more beneficial to him, than
the apothecary's entire stock of drugs."

His birth-day was near at hand, and he determined to invito
his friends to rejoice with him, at his partial restoration to
health. It was to be an unostentatious afiair a dinner, and no
ladies but those belonging to the family. Mr. Read was as
impatient as a child at its first tea-party.

"They are late, Helen! they are not coming!" he said every
few minutes, while they were awaiting the guests. He was

ALONE. 291

working himself into a passion, when the welcome ring appeased
him.

" Mr. Copeland !" called the stentorian lungs of the footman ;
and Mrs. Read was as white, as if the hand of Death had smit-
ten her.

How are you all ?" said Richard, in his joyous, rattling
style. " Miss Ross, I am delighted to meet you Miss Jose-
phine, I will not disparage your blooming cheeks by asking
after your health, and you, Mr. Read, have been practicing
upon our fears, by stories of illness hasn't he, Helen you are
ill !" he said, brought to a full stop by her pallor.

" 111 ! you are well are you not ?" said Mr. Read, in alarm.

" Well ! yes ! what notions you have, Richard !" and the color
flowed back. When did you come in ? down, I mean, and
how are they at home ?"

" Home' is too bridish for a demure matron ; but they are
well, and sent love. I arrived this morning, and should have
been in before, but for business."

" Don't leave the room, Helen. Somebody will come while
you are out. Send John for what you want;" said Mr. Read.
She was slipping out through the back parlor.

" I will be gone but a second," she answered ; and Mr. Read
was still telling Richard how opportune his visit was when she
returned. She was the collected, urbane hostess, only an eager
glance at each arrival, betrayed nervousness or expectation. Mr.
Read watched the door, also ; and his displeasure at the tardi-
ness of his favorite was audibly vented.

'Helen ! why don't Mr. Ashlin come ?" he said, in Ida's hear-
ing. Ears less acute would not have distinguished his wife's reply.

" Hush ! these people are jealous of your preference already.
He will be here before long."

Ida had mislaid her handkerchief, or not brought it into the
room ; and Richard offered to favor her retreat by a journey into
the next room, to look at some green-house plants. Leaving him
bending over them, she ran up-stairs, found the missing article,
and was hurrying down, when a ring arrested her upon the
lower landing. Thinking to let the visitor enter before her, sh
stepped back out of sight.

292 A L C N E .

Mr. Ashlin, I beg your pardon, sir," said John , my
mistress told me to give you this before you went into the draw-
ing-room, sir."

Mr. Ashlin paused she judged, to read a note.

" All right !" said he. " Tell your mistress, I regret exceed-
ingly that I am called into the country, on account of a friend's
danger, and cannot comply with my engagement to Mr. Read
this evening. Deliver the message as I have given it. This is
for yourself, John. Good day."

" Thank you, sir. Good afternoon."

Ida's limbs shook beneath her. She had not time to unravel
the mystery for mystery she knew it to be ; Mrs. Read's fright
at her brother's entrance ; her incoherence and exit ; the strangely
worded message ; the bribe to the servant swam in a chaotic
medley through her mind. She was sick with terror, until warned
to conceal her emotions by Richard's saying that " Helen's
queer symptoms had become epidemic." Partaker of the
alarms of guilt, by her knowledge of the sin, averse as she
was to participation in its concealment, she was possessed with
tin idea, that to her was committed the work of blinding Richard.
While her ears were alert to every sentence uttered around
her, and she was quaking at the least approach to a mention
of the absentee, she aimed to monopolize Mr. Copeland's sense
and thoughts. She anticipated their quitting the table as a
blessed change; then a cold agony came over her, at the remem-
brance that the gentlemen would remain. Discovery, in this
case, was inevitable. His wife's caution would not restrain
Mr. Read from pledging Mr. Ashlin's health. She thought of
bantering Richard into withdrawing with the ladies ; it would
be too bold too forward. He would obey, but his respect for
her would be diminished; as a final alternative, she must
venture it but was there no other ?

" Our patient does us credit, Miss Ida." Her next neighbor
was Dr. Ballard.

"Does you credit, Doctor. I am only your custodian a
daring one, however, for I have a petition to submit. Will
it not be imprudent for Mr. Read to remain long at table, after
the cloth is removed? His system is still inflammatory."
Her conscience reproved her for the deception, although she

ALONE. 293

spoke the truth, but the case was desperate, The doctor's pro-
fessional cap was on instantly.

" Unquestionably, my child ! unquestionably ! well thought
of, Miss Ida ! We must guard against a relapse. How shall
we get him into the parlor?"

Ida consulted Richard, who referred the case to Charley and
returned her the reply, that if the ladies would delay their
departure, a little longer than was customary, not to startle
those who loved to tarry at the wine, he would concert with most
of the company to rise at the same time. Charley was at the
helm, and Ida could safely have slept upon her watch. Mr. Read
demurred at an infringement upon banquetting laws, but the
seceders gallantly insisted upon attending their fair leaders; and
the most disaffected had not courage to stand their ground.
It was a weary, weary evening to Ida; she looked and felt
wretchedly ill, after the guests dispersed. Richard looked in
again, after saying " good night."

" I have purchased a buggy to-day,' said he, to Ida ; " and my
pet horse is in town. Shall I have the pleasure of driving you
out in the morning?"

She assented.

" At what hour?" he asked.

" I wonder what has happened, that Ashlin stayed away !"
said Mr. Read.

Richard started violently. " Ashlin !" he echoed with a fiery
look at his sister. Ashlin Ashlin ;" he repeated, sensible of
his imprudence. " I have heard the name who is he ?"

" An old friend of your sister's," replied Josephine.

Richard's face was profoundly meditative. " A small man
is he not ? red-haired, stoops in the shoulders, and wears spec-
tacles ?"

Mr. Read spoke up indignantly. A magnificent fellow ! gen-
tlemanly, intelligent, and one of the best hearts in the world."

"I do not know him then!" said Richard, emphatically.
" Now I think of it, the red head's name may have been Ashton.
Say eleven o'clock," to Ida " it will be pleasantly warm
then."

" It will suit me," she rejoined, trembling before his gaze.

He was punctual to the hour. Mr. Read hobbled to the door
25*

294 ALONE.

to admire his " turn-out." To him, Richard was lively and
friendly as usual, but he refused his sister's invitation to come
iu, and his bow, as his horse sprang off at the loosened rein, was
to him. They left the city by the shortest route. Beyond the
houses, Richard slackened their headlong speed.

"Miss Ross !" he said, abruptly facing her, "I have classed
you among the limited number of your sex, who are upright and
truthful. Within twelve hours past, I have doubted you. You
are under no personal obligations to answer my questions ; but
as a brother for the honor of my family, I demand of you, all
that you know of this Ashlin."

" Which is very little. I never saw him until Mr. Cranleigh's
marriage, when he was introduced to me at Mrs. Morris'."

By whom ? by Helen ?"

" By Mrs. Morris, herself. He made a party call, and has
continued to visit the house."

" Artful as ever !" he said, through his shut teeth. "Does
Mrs. Read see him?"

"Yes; and Mr. Read."

The old blinkard ! Does Helen receive him as your friend,
or as hers?"

"As the friend of the family."

" Tush ! I might commend your diplomacy, Miss Ross, if 1
were not so thoroughly in earnest. It is clear you will not
advance a step, without knowing why you are questioned.
Having more confidence in you, than you have in me, I will set
you an example of candor Ashlin and my sister were betrothed
when he was at college. We were " chums." He is ardent
generous in some of his impulses, but as I perceived, even with
my boyishly irregular notions, lax in principle. Helen was not
ignorant of my opinion, and with a woman's faith and persever.
ance, set herself to break it down. You do not know her as she
was then high-spirited, proud and passionate, but tractable as
a child to the voice of affection. Her will was more ungovernable
than mine, and she almost reconciled me to her choice. He had
just completed his course at the University, when the death
of an uncle put him in possession of a valuable estate in Cuba.
The marriage, which was to have taken place immediately, was
postponed for twelve' months. Meantime, he was to visit his

ALONE. 295

property, and prepare for a permanent residence in the West
Indies. The year elapsed he did not return and suddenly
his letters were suspended. Helen was insanely trustful; he
might be ill or dead dying, or in the grave, he was true ! Her
romantic independent disposition led her to the formation of a
mad project to search for him in person, since she could learn
nothing in any other way. I could not dissuade her; she made
but one concession, that I might accompany her. The object
and direction of our expedition was known only to ourselves.
We were ready a day before that fixed for starting, a letter
came! He was enamored of an Italian cantatrice; 'designed
marrying her, if Helen would liberate him ; if not, he would
redeem his early pledge to her.' She was ill for weeks ; and
upon what, I believed was her death-bed, she extorted from me
a vow not to revenge her. She ' should have foreseen how it
would end/ she said, l blind, confiding dupe, that she was !' She
arose a hardened, I think, sometimes, a heartless woman of the
world : with her trust in him, had perished her faith in Gud
and man ; an unfeminine panting for wealth and distinction,
filling its place. Chance threw this gold-fish, Head, in her net;
and she clutched him. I had sorrowed for, and commiserated
her until then ; but so sordid, so wickedly weak was this act,
that I reproached her angrily. I said it sprang from wounded
vanity, and a mean desire to glitter, a hollow-hearted, tinselled
doll in the view of those who would gibe, while pretending to
applaud ; that her conduct was as degrading to her, as morti-
fying to us, and she bore my vituperations, without attempting
to defend herself, Hichard !' she said, when I had exhausted
my indignation, e better reason with a tornado, than a slighted
woman !'

"You regard me as a chattering coxcomb, Miss Ida; but I
solemnly declare that I could have gone to the block more
resignedly, than I saw my beautiful sister sold to her hoary
bridegroom. These were circumstances, with which I could not
cope but the diabolical schemes of this assassin of her peace
shall nofr mature ! This is the sad tale is it quite new to you ?"

" In its details;" and she related Celestia's version.

" Which furnished you with a key you have a clear head,
and a woman's wit have you found no locks that it fitted ?"

!:' ALONE

No reply.

" Did you divine the cause of Helen's embarrassment at my
appearance, yesterday ?"

' Not at the time."

" But afterwards. He was invited did she warn him of my
bjing there? If so, do not say it. I can bear your silence
bitter than the truth."

"I can neither deny nor assert, Mr. Copeland. I have
imagined many dreadful things, which may have no real exist-
ence. You may judge for yourself."

His brow was lighter, when he had heard her unvarnished
relation.

" I thank you !" said he, heartily. " "We may cicatrize this
wound yet. I will see Helen to-night; she expects a reproof;
and if she is not what she appears, refined steel I will make
her feel. I dare not meet Ashlin but I will write and if
be crosses my path again ." He resumed in a milder tone,
"I would crave one more proof of your good-will, but that I fear
a refusal."
' Ask it."

" If he renews his visits, will you inform me ?"
" No, sir ! said Ida, positively. "The service savors too mucl
of espionage."

"I was afraid you would see it in that light. Miss Read," he
continued, scornfully, " would require no persuasion to play the
spy. I was near committing myself last night. His name was a
galvanic shock."

" I cannot but hope," said Ida, " that our fears have mag-
nified shadows into spectres. We are so prone to shape events
after the fashion of our inclinations or forebodjngg. Do not
consider it an impertinent liberty, Mr. Copeland, if I recom-
mend to you to be very gentle in your reprehension of your
sister. Callous, self-dependent in semblance, think what her
sufferings are, empaled by memory and conscience. Oh ! if we
had more charity for the tempted !"

" Temptation, sin, suffering ! how naturally the words succeed
cuch other !" mused Richard.

" And they are an epitome of all human woe," said Ida

ALONE. 297

" It is a doctrine of mine, that a small proportion of the great
aggregate of crime is committed from actual love of sin."

She was gratified at his demeanor towards his sister upon
their return. He dined with them, and was markedly attentive
to her, combining so much brotherly kindness with a certain
deference to her wishes and sentiments, that she struggled with
the softness which menaced her proud composure. As they
quitted the table, he passed his arm around her waist, and there
were tears in the eyes upraised to his. No more auspicious
time could occur for the contemplated conversation ; and Ida
enticed Mr. Read into his reading room, by the lure of an uncut
periodical. The words fell from her mouth mechanically her
mind was upon the momentous interview. In the character
and life delineated by Richard, she traced, with a thrill, a
similarity to her own ; the impetuous temper unmanageable,
save when the breath of love sighed over the heart; the blasted
hope; the unworthiness of the object of adoration ah ! this
bitterest ingredient in the cup of despair was spared her ! but
the prostration of soul and body ; then the heaven-threatening
billows of blasphemous misanthropy, and self-abandonment the
parallel was just here to diverge how widely in the result of
the ordeal ! one, wilfully completing the ruin of her happiness
by perjury cauterizing her heart with corrodents, that eat
away its fevered life ; the other, dragging herself, wounded and
weary, to the feet of the Good Physician, to be healed, and fed,
and sustained by His loving mercy; and the language of Ida's
thanksgiving was, " Lord ! Thou hast made me to differ !"

298 ALONE.

CHAPTER XXV.

THE season of sunshine and roses had come, and Carry's
demands for her friend's society were importunate.

" You would not fret your dear heart with harrowing doubts
of my love for you and Poplar-grove, if you could peep in upon
me this morning," wrote Ida. " Mr. Read is worse. I am
unfamiliar with the diagnosis of this malady ; but I fear his
condition is very precarious. He is entirely disabled ; cannot
lift his hand to his mouth without extreme pain, and his nervous
system is much deranged. I write now at the window farthest
distant from his bed, and cautiously, that the scratching of my
pen may not disturb him. I can see your hands and eyes go
up, and hear the this is too much !' which signals the last
throe of expiring patience as you picture me a nun-like figure,
with serge gown and close cap ; or more affecting, an attenuated
damsel, such as we see upon tomb-stones, pressing a handkerchief
to one eye j I imagine your multitudinous arguments, each un-
answerable in its excellence, and which I know by heart. You
allege that he is not entitled to my cares, inasmuch as there
are no ties of blood between us; that he has never done me an
ungrudged favor ; that he is greedy and thankless for my
services ; that his wife and daughter should esteem it their
duty and pleasure to tend him ; and fifthly and lastly, that
it is wrong to endanger my health, as your whimsical country
doctors will have it I am doing. Putting the last first,
reassure yourself my dear I am well. I do not prevaricate to
allay your fears ; I look well, eat well, and sleep well, and I
may dismiss the remainder of your objections in one sentence
I am doing my duty, Carry ! I am morally certain of this,
more certain, than if you were my charge ; for my love would
be the mainspring of action then. I am upheld by the assur-
ance, that I am fulfilling, in my humble way, the command, our
Saviour appointed as the touchstone of piety to the end of
time Do good to them that hate you, pray for them that

ALONE. 299

despitefully use you/ I thank Him that He has vouchsafed
to me this opportunity to examine myself by this criterion."

The sufferer moaned, and she laid down her pen. " You have
had a refreshing sleep, have you not, sir?"

" No 1 there is no ease for me. Why is that window open ?
It does seem that you all have conspired that I shall die,
whether or no. Where is Helen ?"

" She was here awhile ago, and will be in again soon.''

" Is she in the house?"
- " I do not know, sir. Let me get what you want/'

I want her !"

She was not at home, and Ida renewed her offer.

" Gone out, hey !" he rambled on, peevishly. How she
walks ! as if the ground were not good enough for her feet !
ogling and coquetting ! and I am here !" with an oath. " Where
is Josephine ?"

" Down stairs, sir/'

What is she about ?"

Anna Talbot is with her."

' More folly and vanity ! ringlets and ribbons, and bonnets
and beaux! The world is peopled with knaves and fools
women are knaves men fools. You are a mixture."

Ida suppressed a smile. " Your lips are dry," she said " here
is water."

He drank it. You are !" he went on, obstinately, "I hated
you from the minute you entered this house, and you repaid me
with compound interest. Here you are, sitting up at night;
waiting on me all day. I can't do without you, because you
are handy and wakeful, but I don't like you. Do you hear?"

Yes, sir."

" I don't ! and therefore, I'm a fool to tolerate the sight of
you. I'm a fool that's proved ! You are spoiling your eyes
and complexion, and losing the time you might be catching a
husband mewed up here. You expect to be paid when my
will is read that's knavery hypocritical knavery. I haven't
left you a red cent j you are a fool to think of it, and that's
proved I"

Pitiful driveller ! It was not insensibility, but compassion,
that closed Ida's mouth, although she knew this was the revela-

300

ALONE.

tion of the inner chamber of thought, now that the veil of
custom and policy was rent in twain.

"What time is it?"

{ Twelve o'clock, sir."

" That's a lie ! it's three, at least ! Bring the watch to me.
It has stopped ! Hold it to ray ear you've put it back ! Lay
it clown by me ! I don't trust you again !"

The hands pointed to one when Mrs. Read appeared,

" Well, madam !" the form of each tooth was seen through
the thin lips, stretched over them like yellow parchment. "And
where have you been traipsing ?"

I walked down the street."

" And on Main street, too, I'll swear ! spending more money
than you'd sell for at auction ! Why don't you answer me ?
Your tongue was more glib when you were passing compliments
with that fellow who walked with you."

" I went out alone, and did not go on Main street."

" You would have been better employed in the kitchen
forever gadding ! I don't want you in here I'm sick of you and
your brazen face !"

"What error to suppose that sickness softens, and predisposes
the heart to repentance !" thought Ida. She went into the
other room, and beckoned Mrs. Read. " The doctor was here
this morning," she said ; " and told me, privately, not to mind
his irritability, nor to answer him, unless silence increased it.
It is an ordinary symptom in neuralgic affections. We must be
forbearing."

" There is a limit to everything," was Mrs. Read's response.

" True but forbearance should last as long as the pain we
would cure."

" That is your theory, Miss Ida. I am tired of the practice.
You mean well, I have no doubt, but I am not a fit object for
your charity."

The asperity was pointed at herself, rather than at her hearer,
and Ida pondered upon her words and manner, often durino-
the day.

" It did not agree with" Josephine c to sit up" a constitu-
tional weakness, loudly lamented, and encouraged, instead of
overcome. Ida and Mrs. Read divided the vigil j the mulatto

ALONE. 301

nurse, Sarah, sleeping in the apartment. Ida was to watch the
latter part of the night. The patient was cross and restless,
when she looked in upon him at bed-time railing, and swearing
and abusive.

"You want me dead!" he said to his wife; "but I won't
die to spite you. I shall live years, and years, and years, 'till
you are a toothless hag, and walk with a crutch ! Ha ! ha I"

" He is delirious !" whispered Ida. Let me stay with you !"

" He is not! I prefer your retiring. Sarah will call you at
two."

" I shall not undress, to-night, Kachel," said Ida. " I have
a presentiment. I shall be wanted."

"Is he much worse?"

" No but I may be called up. I shall sleep here, upon the
lounge."

But sleep was coy to her wooing. If she had ever felt fear,
she would have known that she was scared and excited. The
south wind generally affected her unpleasantly, creating heat
and nervousness j but to-night the breeze was from the north,
and the moonbeams were spread in broad, white sheets upon
the floor. "I must be sick !" she said, aloud. " I cannot ascribe
this numb horror to anything else. They have a superstition
that it is a precursor of death." Her mind rejected this expla-
nation, but the utterance of that word had populated her soul
with phantoms. Lynn's chill, damp hands again enfolded hers;
and his glazed, upward look still and fixed, moved not at hei
weeping; the clods rattled upon the coffin frozen clods! and how
warmly soever the sun smiled upon the swelling turf down where
he slept, it was frosty night still ! Must he, the loved and gifted,
rest there forever ? would a tender mother's arms never more
embrace her, the dear lips, now turned to dust, never cling to
hers, in speechless fondness? But the dead should rise! some to
the resurrection of the just, some to everlasting shame and con-
tempt. Oh ! the unspeakable woe of a hopeless death ! the dying
strife of the finally impenitent ! Was his end approaching ? " My
God ! avert from him this doom !" His room was beneath hers.
She could hear occasionally a groan, which she knew was an
execration. He might be dying. She thrust her feet into a
pair of felted slippers, and descended to- his door. " Quiet-
SB

302

ALONE.

quiet as death!" "This is improper! irrational'" said she,
severely, to herself. " T need repose and steadiness of nerve
there are watchers with him." But she would not go back to
her room. She went, instead, to the parlor. The hall-lamp
burned all night; and setting open a door, and unclosing a
shutter, to dissipate the darkness, which suffocated her, as a
thick pall, she stretched herself upon a sofa. She slumbered
and dreamed visions, like her waking fancies. She was in Mr.
Head's chamber; writing to Carry, at her far window; the
door swung back, and his wife glided in. With a gesture of
silence to her, she passed to his bedside, and poised a knife above
his heart ! Ida strove to scream to move but her mighty
efforts only shifted the scene did not awaken her. He was
dead ; and his friends had ccme to the funeral. They thronged
the room where his corpse lay in its costly coffin; and the
carriages, headed by the hearse, grated upon the pebbled gutter.
The undertaker was tightening the silver screws when, oh !
horror !. the lid was heaved up from within crashing and
splintering and the dead sat upright ! The distorted features
were Mr. Ashlin's, the yell, as he tossed his arms aloft, Mr.
Read's. " I will not die !" She was in the centre of the apart-
ment; the cold beads dripping from her forehead, and her hair,
dank and heavy, upon her face and neck. She put it back, and
listened. The silence drove by her in waves throbbed with
the beatings of her heart. Hark ! it was not all a dream !
the pawing of hoofs rang upon the stones. The moon had set;
and the lamp was brighter than the starlight. She had the
presence of mind to creep to that side of the window hidden by
the shutter, and looked out. A carriage was at the door in
appearance like the doctor's. He had been summoned the
sick man was worse. Something light and white sailed past her
window, from overhead; as it fluttered to the ground, a tall
figun stepped from the vehicle, and caught it to his bosom.
The apparition of the Arch-Fiend himself would not have
shaken Ida, as did that manly form. She was awake I A
stealing step fell, softly as a snow-flake, upon the floor above-
she heard it. With the speed of .light, she flew to the front
door locked it to that at the other extremity of the passage
hid both keys beneath the cushion of the hall-sofa, and back

ALONE. 303

igain to the street entrance, as Mrs. Read, dressed for travelling,
lad her foot upon the lowest stair. The fugitive leaned against
he wall for support, faint with the terrors of detected guilt.

" Back !" said Ida her cheek bloodless her eyes flashing liv-
ng fire. " False to your word ! false to your sex ! I will save
pu from public disgrace ! Back ! I say I"

" Not while I live !" was the answer.

" And you cross this threshold over my body I" cried the girl,
passionately. " Oh ! shame ! shame ! you the pride and idol
of your family and your husband ! that you should break their
hearts and disgrace his name !"

" It is not my name after I leave this I shall forget and be
forgotten. Let me go I"

" Forget ! forgotten ! you may ! a false woman can forget the
mother who reared her ! but the stain upon them ! your tears,
nor his blood can cleanse it !"

" You are mad !" said Mrs. Read, regaining her composure.
" You cannot stop me. My home is in another land. Why
do you talk of disgrace ? the brutal dotard I fly from, will unfas-
ten my legal fetters, and then I shall live ! the life for which
my Creator destined me I"

You speak your Creator's name ! trampling upon His laws
His curse hanging over you! Oh! I entreat you, by a
mother's prayers for the sake of your old father, tottering
upon the verge of the grave in the name of your honorable
and loving brother, not to expose your design ! You shall
not you cannot goj the doors are locked call for assistance
from those who are without, and I will alarm the household.
To-morrow your name will be trumpeted at the corner of evuy
street. Ha ! that cry ! they have discovered all ! Too late !
too late ! but no ! " She tore off the cloak and bonnet, and
threw them into a corner, as Sarah rushed down the steps.

" Mistress ! Miss Ida ! for the Lord's sake, come ! Master ia
dying!"

A cry from Josephine pierced their ears. Ida forgot her
companion, but she reached the chamber with her. Writhing,
convulsed, screaming, he was wrestling with the Destroyer;
the disease had grappled his heart. Mrs. Read sank upon her
knees, as blasted by a thunderbolt ; Josephine shrieked in help-

304 ALONE.

less dismay; Ida was wrought up to too high a pitch, to think
of self.

" Where is John ?" she cried. " Here ! run for Dr. Ballard !
Mr. Read is very ill ! Call for Mr. Talbot as you come back.
Fly 1"

He was down stairs while she was speaking. " Why, Misa
Ida, the key is not here I"

She ran for it, unlocked the door, and pushed him out. A
man stood in the shade of the porch, whom John did not per-
ceive, in his rapid egress ; but he seized Ida's hand, as she would
have shut him out.

" Helen !"

" Mrs. Read's husband is dying, Mr. Ashlin !"

" Good heavens !"

The bolt had shot into its place, ere he could say more.

All the accompaniments of the last agony, of which Ida had
ever heard, read or conceived, were realized in this struggle;
the blackening features, drenched with sweat, the starting eye,
the twitching muscles, the death-rattle, the soul was tearing
through the clay receptacle : yet for two hours the awful conflict
was protracted.

Morning! a sheet covered the rigid, motionless limbs and
countenance, telling in death, of suffering ; and there were solemn
stoppings and stifled whispers through the house; and crape
waved from the door, where the traitorous friend had waited, at
night, for the dead man's wife.

Mrs. Read was borne to her chamber in hysteric convul-
sions, and continued raving and swooning all day attacking,
in tigress fury, every one who approached her, excepting Ida.
Her she would not suffer to quit her sight. Holding her
hands in a frantic grasp, she poured forth such iales as made
her heart ache : of warm Spring evenings, when the air was
laden with sweet-briar scent, and the young moon was swimming
in the pale blue sky, and the star of love shone upon them
an eye of light from the blushing west, and he sung to
her poetry ascending from his heart as perfume from the
flowers songs, upon whose memory she lived, in the winter of
his absence. "But" and the deep wells of her eyes were
black with anguish, " her heart died, and dissolution came not

ALONE. 305

to the body would that it had 1 and the thought of the past
was a yawning abyss, like the abode of the lost, from which
arose hot, poisonous simooms and tormenting spirits. The world
brought incense and gaudy offerings, and friends their best trea-
sures, but it closed not and she resolved, by self-immolation,
to shut the chasm ; by an irrevocable sacrifice, to seal it forever.
The effort was idle she sold soul and body for nought. He
came, and turned her face to the Future. His heart had
wavered, but returned to its allegiance. She was his, by an
earlier, holier tie than her loathed tyrant's; away in the sunny
land of their youthful dreams, they would live, unmolested by
memory or care. She clung to duty, until her husband drove
her from him with a curse ; to a brother's love, and he painted
that brother's hatred of him, and threatened to see her no
more; and by the specious names of "soul-dictates," and
the " religion which enjoins truth, and condemns hypocrisy,"
gained her promise. The hand of the Almighty interfered !

Ida shut up her tears, and reasoned and plead with her;
praying inwardly for her comfort, and that her own mind and
nerves might not fail her. She rested the maniac's head upon
her breast bathed the beating temples, and pressed her cool
lips to the parched ones, working with pain beseeching her,
with every endearing epithet, to rest and forget. But the lava
crust was heaving ; and the long-repressed flood spread over
it in fast, seething streams. The June twilight was on the
earth as she had described those of years agone ; and in calming
tones, she bade Ida " sing."

"What shall I sing?"

" Of love and faith and hope."

The exhausted girl rallied her strength, and the sweetest of
written hymns seemed whispered to her spirit.

" 'Oh ! Thou, who driest the mourner's tear,

How dark this world would be,
If pierced by sins and sorrows here,
We could not fly to Thee !

'The friends, who in our sunshine lire,

When winter comes, are flown;

And he, who has but tears to gve,

Must weep those tears alone.

26*

306 ALONE.

'But Thou wilt heal that broken heart,

Which, like the plants that throw
Their fragrance from the wounded partr

Breathes sweetness out' of woe.

'When joy no longer soothes or cheers,

And e'en the hope that threw
A moment's sparkle o'er our tears,

Is dimmed and vanished too;

'Oh ! who could bear life's stormy doom,

Did not thy wing of love,
Come, brightly waiting through the gloom,

Our peace-branch from above !

Then sorrow, touched by Thee, grows bright,

With more than rapture's ray,
As darkness shows us worlds of light
We never saw by day.' "

The head weighed upon her arm, she did not withdraw it.
Scarcely breathing herself, she listened to the regular respiration,
that said the distempered brain was locked in forgetfulness.
One two three hours and a cold lifelessness succeeded to
the smart and aching suspended circulation had first produced,
a torpor, creeping to her shoulder affecting her whole body;
but she would not terminate that blessed slumber. A fleet step
ascended the stairs, it did not belong to any of the household,
yet was not strange. A knock which she could not answer
the bolt was cautiously drawn.

" Helen !" said her brother's voice.

The " hush-sh-sh I" silenced him, but he entered. The moon
revealed the dark and white forms upon the bed.

"Your sister sleeps!" said Ida, under her breath. "I beg
you to retire she must not see you. Oh ! go I" for she was
awaking.

" Ida !" said Mrs. Read ; " what am I doing here ? Oh ! mercy !
I remember !"

Peace ! peace I" and with gentle violence, Ida forced her
back to the pillow. You are safe and well now."

She was still for a minute. " Whom were you speaking to
when I awoke ?"

" Some one opened the door, and I did not wish you dis-
turbed."

" It was a servant, then ? I dreamed Richard had come. Oh !
if he should I"

ALONE. 807

* Do you want us to send for him ?"

" Never 1"

" But the fatigue of travelling rapidly over so great a distance
will be too much for your parents. Some of your friends ought
to be with you."

" But not Richard ! any one else !"

Ida was perplexed. He would insist upon seeing her, as
soon as he heard that she was awake ; they must meet in the
morning, and the shock then might unfit her to endure the
trials of the day; yet to tell her now, appeared cruel and
unnecessary

"You have not eaten to-day you will take some nourishment
if I bring it ?"

" Don't leave me !"

" Only for a little while. Promise me to be good and quiet,
until I can run down stairs and back."

" Only do not stay I am afraid to be alone."

Richard was pacing the hall with a troubled air. "How is
she ?" he asked.

" More composed."

" May I go up ?"

" It pains me to deny you, but she can see no one, at pre-
sent."

" This is extraordinary, Miss Ida. We know that there is not
ground for this excessive grief, and Helen has not miss-ish
nerves. What ails her?"

His frown commanded her to reply, explicitly.

"You do not reflect how sudden Mr. Read's death was, Mr.
Copeland. It was an alarming event to us all. After awhile,
your siste* will receive you. She does not know that you are
here ; h ,r mind has wandered all day ; and I deemed it safest
not to agitate her. Trust me to do all in my power for her and
you."

I do !"

Mrs. Read remained comparatively tranquil, saying little,
except to supplicate Ida not to leave her.

You are better are you not ?" inquired the latter, stroking
her bro*r.

Y easier, and more quiet."

308 ALONE.

" I find your brother has been sent fo: ;" she pursued

" He has come !" ejaculated Mrs. Read. " Oh ! what shall
[do? what shall I do?"

" It is unavoidable ; you must meet why delay it ?"

" Oh ! he will kill him ! he said he would, if he ever spoke
to me again I"

More perplexity ! Ida staggered under it. Her ingenuousness
pointed to the straightest, as the best road. The guilty mind
would never be unburdened without confession j but there was
solid rock, underlying the foamy flow of Richard's character.
When his distrust of Ashlin did not amount to a defined con-
viction, he had said, that he "dared not see him" and she
recalled his meaning, "If he crosses my path again!" The
dilemma was fearful a life of concealment to one, murder to
the other. Mrs. Read's consternation redoubled on perceiving
hers. "What shall I do? oh! if I could die!" she moaned,
tossing from side to side. Ida spoke in accents of command
representing the unhappiness she would experience in her
intercourse with her deceived brother ; the watchfulness, and
subterfuges, and the misery of accepting a love she had for-
feited ; and on the other hand, the remorse of the murderess ;
the blood of another soul clogging hers ; the public ignominy
but this was barely touched upon.

"Yet sin unconfessed to man, is not always unrepented of to
God ;" said she.

" Can you resign this base-hearted man, and devote your life
to an endeavor to repair you cannot of yourself, expiate your
offences against your Maker and your fellow creatures ?" And
the haughty, harden- 1 woman bent before the simple majesty
of truth and feeling, .n 1 solemnly vowed herself ready for her
work.

ALONE. 309

CHAPTER XXVI.

RICHARD was to tako his sister home ; and Ida was busily
assisting her to pack her trunks, the day after the funeral, when
Josephine sent to request an audience. She ordered the ser-
vants out of the room as she came in, and without preamble,
entered upon her subject.

" You two have been confederates in many amusing schemes.
Wedded spirits at sight, you flattered yourselves that you coun-
terfeited indifference successfully. But not to me my fair
intriguers ! You, Miss Ross, were wilfully imprudent. I foiled
your manoeuvres to entrap Morton Lacy, the man you loved j
you owe the disappointment, from which you will never recover,
to me. You were unwary to oppose me a second time. And
for you lovely and inconsolable widow ! your downfall was
decreed from the moment we met. I poisoned that old man's
mind^against you. He weakly tried to repel doubt to confide
the fool ! in your love but the venom was subtle certain !
/ overheard your first interview with your recreant lover
marked, step by step, your reconciliation, and furthered it when
I could : / saw your trepidation when your brother's arrival
menaced an expost; and compelled John afterwards to a con-
fession of the warning he transmitted, and the reply, ' on
account of a friend's danger !' That ' friend' is in imminent
danger now ! The cessation of his visits did not mislead her,
who dogged you in your walks, and saw him by your side. 1
was awake the elopement night, saw your signal, and heard
the theatrical dialogue in the hall, rehearsed for the benefit
of eaves-droppers, to clear the skirts of your accomplice, when
your flight should be discovered. Pah ! a child could see through
it ! a remarkable coincidence that Miss Ross should select a par-
lor for a dormitory, and arouse, just in season to confront you at
the door ! It was a scene, as the play-bills have it ' for one
night only.' Your plan proved abortive ; death has left you as
free as a divorce would have done; and when the 'days of
mourning are ended,' you think to marry, and the public be in

310 ALONE.

blissful ignorance that this measure was in contemplation before
your husband's decease. Idiot! is this the revenge I have
worked for ? Your swain is yet in town ; act out your plot.
You need not go to Cuba the laws of Virginia do not forbid
the bans. If, however, your saint-like confidante reprobates
indecent haste/ my game is nevertheless sure. I give you to-
day and to-night for deliberation and escape. At ttie end of
twenty-four hours, if you are in this house, your hot-blooded
brother shall hear the interesting facts, of which I have pre-
sented a summary; I have spoken, and I never repent!"

Her auditors had not moved hand or foot, since she began to
speak ; and after she had gone, they gazed at each other in the
same dead silence. Mrs. Read's stony despair revived Ida's
energies.

" I am lost ' she said, in a hollow tone. She put by the
garment she held, and seated herself, with folded arms.

" You are not !"

" She ' never repents !' "

" God grant she may, before it is too late !" said Ida, looking
upwai'd ; " but I do not rely upon her relentings for your deliver-
ance. We must consider. Bear up, and remember your vow !"

But her own heart sank. Contrivance and expedient presented
themselves, all inadequate to the emergency.

" Are you willing to brave Richard's wrath, if it affects only
yourself ?" she asked.

" I am ! to the shedding of my blood. Your face brightens !
Is there any hope ?"

" Iniquity defeats itself!" said Ida devoutly. The Helper
of the tempted will provide a means of escape. Have we not
time, and the knowledge that he is in the city, and liberty to
communicate with him? Write him a warning, and a. Jinal
farewell; he must fly for his life he will do it ! The traitor
is seldom brave !" she said inwardly.

Mrs. Read's nerveless fingers dropped the pen.

"I cannot !"

" You must !" said Ida, authoritatively. " His life your
peace, depend upon it. Write ! I will dictate."

The note was short and imperative. If the hand quivered,
the heart that indited did not.

ALONE. 311

"Take comfort !" said Ida, sealing it.

' How will you send it ?" said Mrs. Read, whom grief and
shame had robbed of mind and fortitude.

" I will carry it myself."

Oh ! not you ! what will be aiid ?"

" Trust me. If Josephine has emissaries, so have I. I will
not compromise myself or you. I was cut out for a conspirator,
and to keep up the character, you must disguise me. My
appearance on the street so soon after the yesterday, will
excite remark. Ah ! this thick veil, and that black mantle,
will serve my purpose. Now, would you know me ?"

" Never but dear Ida "

But repeating " Take comfort !" Ida kissed her, and went
out. She tripped across the 'back yard, under shelter of the
buildings, unlatched the gate, and was safely in an alley, bisect-
ing the square, and parallel with the street upon which the
house was built. She walked briskly, thinking over her plan.
As in Lynn's case, Charley was her aim; but she was not 'so
sure now of his co-operation. It was a delicate and dangerous
matter; would he be a blind tool? confidence was not to be
thought of. With his nice notions of propriety, would he take
a note from her to Mr. Ashlin, of whose character she had heard
him speak disparagingly. "This is foolish!" she interrupted
herself " he must I" and she was conscious that this word
from her, carried with it an authority few had the hardihood to
resist.

John Dana was in the store, but he did not know her, and
sent a clerk forward.

"I wish to see Mr. Dana, sir."

She raised her veil as he responded to the call.

" Ida ! my dear child ! I should never have recognised you I"

" I did not design you should. My errand is with Charley
is he in ?"

" In the counting-room. What is the matter ?"

" With me ? Nothing, sir; a state secret. He is my Vizier."

" Very well I" said he, smiling. " Walk this way." He
pushed aside the baize door, and Ida thought she should faint,
as Richard Copeland was discovered talking with Charley. John
also retreated.

O 1 )

t -'- L " ALONE.

" He is not alone ;" he said, " I will call him out."

"Not while Mr. Copeland is here!" she faltered. "Oh! I
would not have him see me I"

" Tda !"

" He must not see me, Mr. Dana !"

"Then I will hide you shall I ?" He took her to the end of
a counter, piled to the ceiling with goods; gave her a tall stool,
and bade her " rest awhile."

Ida was ashamed of her perturbation, and heartsick of the
feints and concealments her nature revolted at; all the conse-
quences of another's errors.

Charley and Kichard entered the store. " You had better
say you will go," said the latter. " It is insufferably stupid ;
staying here this weather."

"I don't know whether lean get off;" answered Charley.
We'll see."

His brother directed him to Ida. He was astonished to see
her.

'But you can never be unwelcome."
! Cela depend ;" said Ida, " I sue for a favor."
' Consider it granted."
That will not do. Can you perform my bidding, without
asking questions ?"

I am not inquisitive ; and I depend upon your discretion."
Then, will you deliver this letter immediately ?"

His countenance changed. Ida lifted her finger.

"I have promised," he icplied; "but Ida if you were my
sister, I would not be the bearer of this !"

" Charley !"

" I do not say it to hurt your feelings, but I know men, and
this man, better than you do. This is not your handwriting.
My fear is that you may be tampered with not your integrity
but that designing people may impose upon your credulity."

" I thank you sincerely for your consideration, but I act with
my eyes open, and conscientiously believe that what I demand
is actually necessary. 7 dictated that note. Will you oblige
me now ?"

" Unhesitatingly."

"Be sure you give it, at once, to him. I cannot explain.

ALONE. 313

I may never do it, perhaps. One thing more. Where does
Mr. Copeland want you to go ? and when ?"

" To the country, to-morrow ; a tete-a-tete drive out of town ;
a dinner at a tavern ; and spend the day in the woods, gunning."

" Go, please ! I have a special reason for asking it and
start early."

" More mysteries !"

" The last I shall ever annoy you with, Charley."

" Enough ! if possible you shall be obeyed. I trust you, Ida
not one of the other parties concerned. By the way/' he added,
putting on his hat, " Lacy passed through the city yesterday ;
stopped but an hour, and left his regrets and respects for you.
He would have called, but for the circumstances of the family."

" I should have been happy to see him," said Ida, very natu-
rally. Was his sister with him ? how is her health ?"

" Not improved. They contemplate a sea-voyage. I heard
a queer report about him the other day." They were at the
store-door, and Ida did not lower her veil, although the light was
glaring. Charley was scrutinising her from the corners of his
eyes, and she was aware of it.

" I don't credit it ;" he said. " They say he is engaged to be
married to Miss Arnold."

Ida smiled. Why do you discredit it ?"

" Why I hear the girl is a flirt ; she is pretty, but I don't
relish the match. Besides, to be frank, I had a private opinion
that"

"That he was engaged to me!" finished Ida, laughingly.
" Your shrewdness is at fault for once, Charley. I have known
of his engagement ever since last summer almost a year."

" How did you hear of it ?"

From himself."

" All righ't then, I suppose ;" Charley reluctantly conceded
I'll be hanged if I don't believe it's all wrong !" he muttered,
as he walked down the street. Ida did not mutter or sigh, on
her way home. She cheered Mrs. Read's drooping spirits by
reporting their case in excellent hands, and the happy Providence
which appeared likely to befall them in Richard's projected
jaunt. " A day is as precious to us, at this juncture, as if ita
minutes were diamonds," said she.
27

j!4 ALONE.

Withdrawing to her chamber, she wept long and sadly. " If
[ could only have seen him for one hour ! one minute ! Oh ! I
shall never be free never forget ! Can I censure poor Helen,
when I am myself so weak ? for it is sin to love him, the pro-
mised husband of another !"

An hour and she was with her dejected charge, busy and
cheerful yet so thoughtful, so sympathetic, that the repentant
wanderer blessed her as a heavenly messenger of compassion
and goodness

Ida was dressing in the morning, when she received a note
from Charley.

" Mr. A decamped yesterday afternoon, servants and

baggage it is said not to revisit these parts shortly. I do not
know whether this much discussed Hegira is, in any way, attri-
butable to your billet, but write, in the supposition, that the fact

may not be uninteresting. Mr. C and myself are on the

point of starting upon our ride ; return to-night.

In haste, yours,

CHARLEY."

Ida smiled scornfully. The caitiff ! I said the false were
seldom brave !"

She sent the note to Mrs. Read. Rachel brought up an
answer. "You are my guardian angel," it said. "The God
you love and serve, may reward you I never can. I shall
spend this day alone. Richard must hear the truth, and I
should be his informant not that miserable girl, who would
gloat upon the sight of his grief and amazement. I shall write
him everything. Pray for me !"

Towards evening, Rachel, as the only trustworthy bearer, was
dispatched to Richard's hotel with the letter. Mrs. Read had
expended her moral courage in the execution of this mortifying
duty. She passed a wretched night a prey to agonizing anti-
cipations imagining Mr. Ashlin's return ; his being overtaken ;
the death of one or both ; Richard's desertion of her, or that her
family would disown her. Ida stayed with her, but her condo-
lences and sanguine predictions were futile.

" You do not know Richard \" was Mrs. Read's invariable

ALONE. 315

He appeared at the hour for departure, and without coming in,
gent to inquire if she was ready. Ida supported the half-swoon-
ing woman down stairs. Richard was in the porch. He saluted
her slightly his sister, not at all; his face so gloomy and
stern, Ida dared not accost him. Josephine was less timorous,
or had a stronger incentive. She walked boldly to the door.

"Mr. Copeland, can -you spare me a minute of your valuable
time ? I have a word to say to you."

He wheeled upon her with a withering sneer. " I am admon-
ished of the purport of your communication, Miss Head, and my
regret is only second to yours, that the indulgence of your ami-
able penchant for bloodshed is inevitably postponed by the flight
of our chivalrous friend. I give you credit for having acted in
perfect consonance with the finest feelings of your soul. Permit
me to express the hope that the consummation we mutually
desire, is not very remote that the " transgressor may be
rewarded according to his works ;" and while this is the burden
of your prayers, I would have you remember that I shall put up
a like petition with regard to yourself !"

Mrs. Eead strained Ida to her breast silently, and the hot tears
fell fast upon her cheek. She tendered her hand to Josephine.
It was disdainfully rejected.

" Farewell, Mr. Copeland j" said Ida, holding out her hand.

He clasped it, and inclined his head, as in adoration. " It is
well," he said, in an tinder tone, " that I have met you. You
have preserved me from total abnegation of female truth.
Thank heaven that you have but a physical resemblance to your
sex!" He closed the carriage-door upon his weeping sister,
mounted his horse, bowed to his saddle-bow to the wave of Ida's
handkerchief, and galloped off.

Anna Talbot was to stay with Josephine until the necessary
legal formalities should leave her free to select a home; and
Mrs. Dana claimed Ida. She needed rest and nursing. This
week of agitation and wearing fatigue, was the forerunner of a
fever, which might have resulted fatally, had she retained her
old quarters. There was nothing at Mr. Dana's to quicken
memory into action upon unpleasant subjects; no darkened
chambers, or everburning tapers ; no hurryings from room to
room, with the suppressed bustle, that indicated a renewal of

316 ALONE.

the patient's sufferings. These were sights and sounds painfully
familiar to her of late. She lay in an airy apartment ; the light
tempered, not excluded; with books and flowers, and if she
wished, the happy children to amuse her ; and when she started
from sleep, with a groan or shriek sounding through her head,
her eye fell upon the placid face of her hostess, smiling tenderly
to dispel her alarms j or Elle's cherry mouth said, in the flute-
like accents, so like her aunt's, " You're just dreaming, cousin
Ida I" She left her bed, but her tottering steps would not bear
her far ; and John Dana carried her in his strong arms every
evening to the parlor, where was Charley, disposing, with the
skill of an accomplished nurse, the pillows that heaped her sofa.
She was thankful for the debility that made her the recipient of
these tokens of true affection. They loved her ; she no more
doubted this, than she questioned her attachment to ihem. One
day she appeared thoughtful, and Mrs. Dana remarked upon it
in private to her coadjutors. She was afraid it arose from some
saddening reminiscence, or mistrust of the future ; " Charley
must enliven her." And Charley, if he did not bring mirth,
eliminated the caged troubler.

She " had heard," she said, " that the law required her to
choose a guardian."

" True ;" said Charley.

" Is there any specified time ? has it expired ?"

"A month hence will do; although Miss Read has made her
choice. "

"Ah! whom?"

"Mr. Talbot, the elder. Easy soul! he has not a thought of
the pickle he is in."

Ida was more serious. "Will you say the same of my
selected protector."

" Probably you being afac-simile of her."

" May I choose whom I please ?"

"Undoubtedly."

"Will it be a very troublesome office?"

" Hum-m-m ! I should say not. Some care some respon-
sibility that is a mere song, though, as your schooling is done,
and you 'are a moderately discreet young lady."

ALONE. 317

" Will you ask your brother to act ? I prefer him above all
other men in the universe."

"Why not do it yourself? he will not object."

" He might be influenced by my anxiety, and assume the
task because it will make me happy I want him to make an
unprejudiced decision."

" I will look him up ;" said Charley.

They re-entered together ; and John bowed his tall form to
kiss the flushing cheek. " You will not seem more like a daugh-
ter, when you are my ward, than you do now, Ida."

27*

318 ALONE.

CHAPTER XXVII

IT was chinquapen season; and a grove of "bushes" on the
outskirts of the Poplar-grove plantation resounded with the
jocund voices of a nutting party. The green beards rolled back
their white lips, in a smile, saying as plainly as smile could say,
for the shining brown treasures " Come and take us !" As a
loaded upper limb was roughly shaken, and screams of laughter
and pretended fright arose from the group, upon whose heads the
hurtling shower descended, our friend Charley might be seen,
sauntering away, in suspicious unconcern ; Ellen Morris was
weaving her gay-coloured meshes around Mr. Euston's susceptible
heart, and Mary Truman, with Charley, as aid, was pioneer to a
dozen children of assorted sizes. One couple had strayed to the
edge of the grove, where, from the brow of a hill, they over,
looked a wide expanse of landscape. The lady, whose bloom was
heightened by exercise, or some other cause, was profoundly
occupied in sifting chinquapens taken, a handful at a time,
from her basket into the same again. Her cavalier was speak-
ing low and impressively

" You cannot argue indifference from my delay. I was ready
for this declaration a year ago ; but you were not ; and while I
left you in no doubt as to my intentions, I wished you to have
ample time and opportunity for making up your mind. I have
not the vanity to hope to allure by personal attractions or showy
qualities ', but if the disinterested love of a manly heart can win
your regard, I may trust that my offering will not be scorned.
I visited you last winter, and saw that you were not happily
situated. A more hasty lover would have spoken then : I would
not have your discontent with one home, influence your decision
in my offer of another would not have you self-deceived ; for
your happiness is dearer to me than mine. But now, you
are translated to a sphere, in which you are appreciated and
beloved, your- will is untrammelled by the restrictions of a stern
guardian-^-free to move, without the goad of desire to escape a
disagreeable lot. I have been very patient, Miss Ida."

ALONE. 319

He had and she knew nothing of him but what was gene-
rous and honourable. His persevering attachment was guaranty
of its depth. Pleasant as her life was now, the death of her
guardian, or his widower-hood (she thought of such chances, in
these days of death and change ) would cast her out upon the
world alone and homeless as before. She had all the woman's
longing to be paramount in one heart, the sun and attraction
of a home. She could give her suitor but a sisterly regard, at
present; but she had been told that this culminated in a calm
affection, lasting through life mighty in death. The passionate
idolatry of earlier days was conquered by religion ; she believed
that it had subsided into friendship ; its hopelessness impelled
her to forget it how more effectually than in another love ? Her
colour fled, as it ever did, before powerful emotion, and the
fingers, while they went on, burying themselves in the glossy
brown heap, were icy cold. She must reply she looked up
not in the intelligent face handsome in its pure fervor of devo-
tion but beyond to where the blue sweep of the hills lay,
graceful and light, against the rosy horizon; and she gazed, until
her dark eyes were dilated and moveless, and her companion,
struck by their expression, looked to the same spot. He saw
but the hills, and the heavens, spanning them in crimson
glory she verily thought, as she stood, rooted to the earth, in
the dumb agony of memory, and recoiling at the fate, her tongue
had almost sealed, that she beheld as if the folds of that
glowing canopy were drawn aside the form and features of her
first what she knew now, was to be her only love ! that look-
ing back, from whatever height in life, she should see the
remembered lineaments distinct, unaltered, stamped upon that
part of the Past he had made radiant.

"Ida! do you never mean to marry?" inquired Charley, that
night.

" You gentleman say every girl will as soon as she has a good
offer;" was the rejoinder.

"Germaine is not an ( eligible' then ?"

" Who said anything about him ?"

"I did. I am unable, by any system of ratiocination with
which I am acquainted, to establish why a sensible, fancy-free

320 ALONE.

lady should refuse a man, who is unexceptionable in morals, '
behaviour, education, appearance and prospects."

"What an array of recommendations! what evidence have
you that I have committed this egregious folly ?"

" Your quibblings if nothing else. Deign to enlighten me
as to motive the act being granted. Why did you discard him ?"

"Because I did not love him, Charley."'

" That is to the point ! now why didn't you love him?'

" Because I could not."

"Not so good. Why couldn't you ?"

" Impertinent ! is love made to order ? As with a soda fount,
have you but to twist a screw in the heart, and it bubbles up for
any unexceptionable,' who prays for it in a flowery speech ?"

" Jumping the question again ! What is your ideal husband
like?"

"He must be my master!" said Ida. " Mr. G-ermaine is kind
and excellent intelligent and gentlemanly; but my will would
never yield to his. He would say 'Shall I?' and 'will you?'
in matters where his interests, no less than mine, were involved.
My ideal says, gently, but decidedly /think' I will ?' "

" So our friend may ascribe his ill-success to his lack of Blue-
Beardishness ! Oh, woman ! thy name is caprice !"

Ida had scanty faith in the reality of his wonder, but most
of that expressed was genuine. " Such a fine young man ! well-
to-do in the world, and she so unprotected !" Carry had built
many castles in the air, upon Ida's presupposed acceptance of
her neighbor, and expostulated with her.

" Better a lonely, than a miserable life, dear Carry ;" wag
the reply. " I have my Bible to direct me, my Heavenly
Father to lean upon. While I obey Him, He will not leave
me friendless. As to the obloquy of old-maidism, I do not
dread it."

At the fall of the leaf, the town Danas returned home, and
Ida slipped into her place in the family, as though she had
always constituted a part of it. The time winged happily and
uneventfully along until Christmas. Dr. Carleton, Arthur and
Carry were with them then, and another visitor, Ida's name-
sake, and the miraculous prodigy of Poplar-grove; a lovely
babe, four months old ; with its father's hazel eyes, and the

ALONE. 321

transparent skin, and bright flossy curls of its beautiful
mother.

On New Year's eve, the older members of both families col-
lected in the parlor, to greet the commencement of the new
cycle. Ida occupied an ottoman, between her guardian and
Charley ; chatting, with girlish vivacity, to the latter. Mrs.
Dana was in the opposite corner, in the shadow of the mantel,
conversing with her father ; but her voice shook at times, and
her eyes wandered constantly to her young friend. Ida did not
notice this, nor the sadness that tinged her guardian's fatherly
look, as he smoothed her chestnut hair for a long time, musingly.
She did not suspect he was thinking of her. He smiled, as she
threw up her eyes to his face, and rested her head against the
arm of his chair; but it was a fleeting light the uncertain
enjoyment of a pleasure, whose loss one anticipates. Finally he
spoke.

" Ida ! will you give your attention for a minute ?"
" For an hour, if you wish it, sir. I am all ear."
" You must be mouth, too for there are questions for you to
answer. Yesterday, in examining certain papers of Mr. Read's,
pertaining to the guardianship, I found a packet of letters,
mostly from your mother some from Mr. Grant, and one of
yours written after your illness at Sunnybank. You say
therein, that it was your mother's wish for you to take her
place, as mistress of the establishment there, so soon, as in his
judgment, you should be possessed of the ability; that there
were plans laid off, but unfinished by her, whose completion she
bequeathed to you; and you enclose a schedule, which sur-
prised me by the sound sense and foresight displayed in its
provisions and items. You conclude by declaring your prepos-
sessions for a country life, and the binding character of the duty,
which you conceived was' -resting upon you. I referred to your
mother's letters. It is not for us to censure the dead, but it is
amazing how Mr. Read could have slighted the desire, virtually
conveyed in every one of them, viz. : that it should be optional
with you, at what time after you had attained the age of eighteen,
and remained single, you should return to a home, to which, she
was assured conscience and affection would alike attract you.
She describes your strength of mind and purpose, when a child,

322 ALONE.

as remarkable ; and says that she would not fear to entrust to
you, the execution of any directions concerning the business she
then superintended. My course is too plainly laid down for me
to deliberate or waver. In a year, you will be of age; your
judgment is as ripe now, as it will be then ; you are competent
to control yourself, and your subordinates. It is for you to say
whether you still consider it obligatory upon you, to anticipate
your legal majority."

There was a blank silence. Mrs. Dana alone, was not sur-
prised, and she had most pending upon the verdict. Ida hid
her face upon her guardian's arm.

"I would not trouble you needlessly, dear child;" he said,
passing his hand over her dark locks ; " else I would tell you
how dear you were to us, before you lived with us ; how doubly
dear you are now. If personal feeling were the arbiter in this
case, I would never have .made the statement you have heard to-
night ; and Jenny has not spoken, because foreseeing that her
affection might outrun her discretion, I exacted a promise ot
non-interference. Your home is here, dear Ida, as long as you
choose to make us happy by your presence. I repeat the deci-
sion rests with you."

" I do not know what to say. Determine for me, dear Mr.
Dana."

"I may not, my child."

"Carry ! Charley ! what ought I to do?"

Charley shook his head ; but Carry was not so prudent. " Oh !
Ida ! your going will break sister's heart ; a year cannot make
much difference."

"If it is my duty at all, it is now, as much as then is it
not?" asked Ida, of Charley.

" I am afraid so ;" said he, seriously.

" Charley ! how can you !" exclaimed Carry. " One would
think you were willing to lose her ! You are young, Ida there
is no necessity for burying yourself alive, yet."

"Have a care, Carry! John is right she must decide;" cau-
tioned Arthur.

"One question, Ida," said Charley, kindly. "You have
revolved this issue often in your mind, even since you have been
with us have you not ?"

ALONE. 323

"Yes."

" You said, a year ago, you felt bound to fulfil your mother's
wishes, and that your inclinations leaned the same way how is
it now ? There is the case in a nut-shell."

" One hard to crack, nevertheless ;" said Ida, with glistening
eyes. " I love Sunnybank, and I have had misgivings that the
indulgence I meet here, may spoil me for the active, self-denying
life I must lead ; for I have always looked forward to a resi-
dence there, some time or other; but I am so happy here.
Still, Mr. Dana, I have a vast deal of surplus energy which ought
to be employed. I am not working with all my might. Does
this sound ungrateful ?"

" Not a bit of it I" struck in Charley's assuring tones. " It
is not that you love Caesar less, but Rome more."

" But it is so far I" objected Carry, " and so out-of-the-way.
Suppose you fall sick ! 0, brother John ! it is heartless to
send her off by herself !"

" She shall not go by herself, Carry. If she concludes to
leave us, it must not be before Spring ; then Jenny and I will
go with her. If she is convinced, upon trial, that she is inade-
quate to the enterprise, or dislikes it, we shall be too glad to
have her back. Grant is a respectable man, and an intelligent
farmer ; and she must secure a companion. You mentioned his
sister-in-law, I think, Ida ?"

"As to the distance," said Charley, "If those snail-like
fellows continue the railroad, as they say they will it will pass
within six miles of Sunnybank."

This was a ray of comfort ; yet Mrs. Dana burst into tears,
and Carry threw her arms around Ida, sobbing bitterly, as she
" feared she ought to go."

"Carry! Jenny! you must not!" said Charley. " She has
done her duty and should be encouraged. You are borrowing
trouble upon interest. Who can tell what may happen before
Spring? An earthquake, or the end of the world may stamp
Finis' upon sublunary things, and you'll be ashamed of your-
selves for having anticipated evil."

He succeeded in calling up a smile, and Carry unintentionally
effected a further diversion. " Oh, Ida !" she sighed. "If
you had married Mr. Germaine !"

32-4

ALONE

" I am happier as it is, Carry."

" I move a postponement of the subject, sine die j" said
Charley. " We must welcome in the year with a song. Come
to the piano, Carry. Ida, Arthur come ! we want a quartette."

They learned to speak of the coming separation with compo-
sure; but its shadow was upon all hearts, longer and blacker as
the time drew nearer. Ida sometimes debated with herself
whether she could be called to sever a relationship which had
taken such hold of her inmost soul. She was not supine or
useless; for the love a Christian's virtues gain, is indirectly
leading men to the Saviour; and every day she could animate
some drooping spirit, or alleviate some woe, were it only a
child's. Yet she was not performing labors commensurate with
her talents and energies ; she was upon the circumference of the
wheel ; Nature designed her for the centre and motive power.
There was a satisfaction in having the matter settled. She
had not the courage to introduce it herself; but her guardian's
straight-forward summing-up and appeal had convinced her, and
the rest of his hearers. A scheme, so uncommon, had opposers
and despisera in abundance. Some honestly lamented her
departure ; and many more insinuated at " family disagree-
ments" and " high-spirited young ladies." She was " Quixotic"
and "masculine," said others, boldly; and there were benevolent
friends who thought it a pity so much eloquence should be
wasted and carried faithful reports to the cause of the commo-
tion. Among the busiest in promulgating scandal, was Jose-
phine Read, until she was taught caution by a scathing rebuke
from Charley, inflicted publicly, in response to a sneer, not
meant for his ears; and of the opposite party, Ellen Morris'
unobtrusive grief affected Ida sadly. They seldom spoke of
Lynn ; but there was a tacit understanding that his memory
was the bond of their intimacy. Outwardly, Ellen was the
same only Ida knew that the spontaneity of her gaiety was no
more, and that the most brilliant jets were forced up by a
pressure, that would have destroyed the spring of most hearts.
On the second anniversary of Lynn's death, she came to invite
Ida to a walk showing a bouquet of spring flowers concealed
in her veil. Divining their destination, Ida turned their steps,
of her own accord, to the cemetery The spring was forward;

ALONE. 325

so it had been the year he died ; but its young blossoms were
killed by the frost and snow which should have belonged to
winter and he perished with them ! The turf was green; the
evergreen rose, creeping over the headstone, was full of glossy
leaves and the violets upon his breast were budding. The girls
knelt on either side of the grave ; trimmed away the dead twigs
of the rose, plucked the sere leaves of the violet, and clipped the
ragged grass talking softly, as over a sleeping babe. Besides
themselves, there were no visitors in the grounds; and having
deposited their offering upon the mound, they sat down. Ellen's
arm was encircling Ida's waist, while one of the latter' s rested
on the grave.

" I may not do that," said Ellen, mournfully. Although
when it rains or snows at night, I weep to think how it beats
upon him, and pine to shelter him with my arms, when I am
here and I come often, Ida secretly ! I see him dead perhaps
murdered by me and I no more dare embrace that clay, as you
are doing, than the murderer would touch the body of his
victim, lest it should bleed afresh."

" This is morbid regret, Ellen. I was his sister and confidante.
You had nothing to do with his death ; if you had never parted,
the disease might have assailed him. The blight upon your heart
is deadly enough, without increasing it by unmerited self-re-
proach. Everything is so calm and sweet here, this afternoon,
and I have such a consoling surety that he is happy ! The
spirits of the loved return to earth are hovering about us
present, although unseen. He may be with us."

"'Do they love there still ?' " said Ellen.

" They do with a love purged from selfishness and doubt-
ings perfect pure ! Oh ! Ellen ! the bliss and holiness of
Heaven ! why do we love this world so well ?"

" They are loveless alike to me ; I have no hope or rest in
either. When he was here, I loved this earth, because he was
upon it; its charm has gone and can I thank, or revere Him
who bereaved me ?"

" My dear girl ! He smites to heal. In my short life, I have

studied His providences sufficiently to teach me that it is the

wise Physician, as well as the Father, who takes away our

hurtful delights, and rives our hearts. He waits now, Ellen,

28

326 ALONE.

to infuse life His life, into your fainting soul to wind these
severed cords about His loving heart. This patient, boundless
love was our Lynn's dying hope ; and you will never be com-
forted until you accept it."

"It is easy to talk!" said Ellen, fretfully. "You cannot
understand a sorrow like mine."

" The heart knoweth its own bitterness, Ellen, and my life
has not been all sunshine. There are griefs, piercing and drying
up the spirit never revealed to man."

" I know that. Is not my soul shrouded in sackcloth drinking
wormwood and gall when my body is bedizened in its finest
array, and the sparkling wine reflecting the lying bloom, that
says I am glad and gay ! I envied you your mourning dress as
long as you wore it ; and when he was named by the hypocrites
who fawned upon him in life, I had to seem as unconcerned as
they; you 'had no need to stifle your sighs, for he was your
friend. I had denied him as my lover, while we were betrothed ;
I cannot publish it now. There is but one restraint upon my
despair. If, as you say, the spirits of beloved ones are with us,
and he is among the blest, he must be grieved, if they can
grieve that I contemn the Being he loves."

" Ellen ! this language is evidence that your chastisement is
not wanton injustice. Whether he hears you or not, you grieve
and insult your Maker by your mad words, the Saviour, to whom
you are indebted for being and comforts and friends who has
loved you from the beginning. You knelt to a creature He had
made ; He interposed the gate of death, to save you from the fate
of the idolater, and you ask to spend your life in bewailing your
affliction in showing your adoration of perishable dust, and
reviling your best Friend ! Is this your gratitude ?"

Ellen did not speak. Ida drew her closer. " My dearest
girl!" she said, "I do not reprove you in my own name. I
have been as guilty as yourself; and it is in remembrance of
the retribution which followed, I warn you in remembrance of
the love that forgave me, and bestowed peace and joy, in place
of disquiet and mourning, that I entreat you come to Jesus !"

" I cannot ! your pleadings are water upon a rock. I have
been thinking, as you were speaking, whether I cared to go to
Heaven and I painted it, gloriously beautiful, as holy men tel]

ALONE. 327

us it is but without the love, my foolish vanity tempted me to
sport with, when it was mine for which I would imperil my
soul now and the Creator of that heaven, and its angels, and
fair sights and musio were delightless. Bather misery with
him, than every other joy without. Oh ! if he had known
how I loved him !"

Her head fell upon the tomb, and the tears rained upon the
turf. Ida wept, too but in pity. Ellen was perverse in her
hopeless sorrow her friend could only commit her to the tender
mercy she had besought her to seek.

" If you knew how Our Father loves you both, dear Ellen I"
she whispered, but there was no reply.

It was a trial to say farewell to that grave. She had visited
it ere the sods joined over it ; planted flowers there, and watered
them with tears; had sat there at sunset, and watched the
" long, bright pomp" he used to love ; had learned there lessons
of contentment and charity, and active usefulness, " while the
day lasted." Next to one other green heap, where the willow
shadows were dancing, this was the dearest spot on earth to
her. She seemed brought so near to Lynn by the sight of it ;
and as she had kissed his white brow in death, she pressed her
lips to the marble, with a murmur of regretful fondness
" Brother !"

A L ON E .

CHAPTER XXVIII.

JOHN DANA, his wife and little ones, attended Ida to Sunny-
bank. They arrived late at night, tired and sleepy ; but their
sunrise matins were caroled by Ida, as she sang a lively hymn
in the breakfast-room, under the guest-chamber, She roamed
briskly to and fro, rummaging side-boards and peeping into
closets.

" Jest like you used- to do, Miss Ida I" said Aunt Judy. Law
me ! this comes of faith. I allers said I should live to deliver
up them keys into your hands. And you've come home for
good, honey ?"

" Yes, Aunt Judy come to stay with, and take care of you.
That's for good/ isn't it ?"

" To be sure ! It's a mighty 'sponsibility, honey !"

"She'll have strength given her to bear it I" said Will, behind
her. " It's time your biscuits were baking, Aunt Judy, and
you're talking about 'sponsibility !"

" I shall depend upon you, Uncle Will," said Ida. The
servants were easily controlled while mother's influence was at
work. How they will submit to one of my age and experience
remains to be seen."

" Mr. Grant keeps them tolerably straight, ma'am. I can't
say it's exactly as 'twas in her time, but they'll break in pretty
easy, I reckon. An overseer, no matter how smart and good,
aint a marster or mistis. We get our victuals and clothes, and
look just the same, but there's nobody to ride down from 'the
house/ after planting, and hoeing, and harvesting's done, and
say, well done, boys !' and at night, when we, whose quarters
are in the yard, come up, it's so dark and lonesome, and still,
and the doors and windows all shut, it makes us low-spirited
like 'twas no use to work and Sunday we feel it then !"

" So you are rather glad I am back again ?"

" Glad I mistis ! I couldn't be more pleased if you was my own
child ! We need you, ma'am ; we need you !"

"Still, as Aunt Judy says, it's a great responsibility."

ALONE.

" You're one of the Lord's lambs, mistis. He will provide."
He went out, and Ida caught up his last words, and through

the dark nooks and reverberating galleries of the old house,

sounded the refrain

" ' His call we obey, like Abram of old,

Not knowing our way, but faith makes us bold,

For 'though we are strangers, we have a good guide,

And trust in all dangers, the Lord will provide!'"

She met her guests with a kiss, and a jingle of the key-
basket, and seating them at table, poured out the coffee; refuting
Mr. Dana's objection that his was too sweet, by the Irish lady's
answer to a similar complaint from General Washington
" Shure, and if 'twas all sugar, 'twouldn't be too good for yer
Honor I" piled the children's plates with buttered cakes
rattling all the while of her dignities, possessions and " 'sponsi-
bility." After finding a clean grass plat for the children's play-
ground, she challenged Mrs. Dana to a stroll over the house
and garden. It was an old-fashioned family mansion, rambling
and picturesque ; some rooms wainscotted to the ceiling, and
lighted by rows of narrow windows, with surprisingly small
panes. These were chambers: the lower story, the parlour,
dining-room, and the apartments appropriated to her mother and
herself, were light, large, and finished in a more modern style.
Mrs. Dana preferred the antique. The massive furniture suited
them so well, and it was interesting to think of the generations
they had known what stories they would relate if the panelled
oak could speak.

" With a little variation, they would tell one of all," replied
Ida. " They were born, suffered, joyed and died !" And she
thought how she had gone through all, except the last, within
these walls. The garden was ploughed up. There was no
comeliness in it, but it was less desolate than when overgrown
with weed.

The soil is fertile," said Mr. Grant. We shall have vege-
tables worth showing this summer, Miss Ida. Mr. Dana sends
his respects, and will you step into the parlour ? we would like
to consult you."

Ida composed her face into a Malvo-io expression of solemnity
and conceit ; pompously apologised tc Mrs. Dana, and obeyed.
28*

530 ALONE.

But the account books were shut, and her guardian was luxu-
riating in an arm-chair and a cigar.

" Mr. Grant and myself have been investigating and comparing
accounts, Ida/' he said ; and the result is highly creditable
to him and those in his service. Without wearying you with
particulars, I have set down the sums total here. You perceive
that the crops have met the expenditures of the plantation; and
each year, the nett profits have surpassed those of the preceding
a proof that your land is constantly improving. This, as I
said, is to be attributed to Mr. Grant's judicious management.
Your servants are well fed and clothed, and the doctor's bill
trifling in its amount. Praise is also due to Mr. Head. I
approve entirely of the investments he has made of the funds,
left after the necessary disbursements for expenses. Your
money is safe and not idle. You were fortunate in your stew-
ards, and assume the control of an unincumbered estate, under
most favorable auspices."

" I am indeed grateful to Providence, and to them, sir. It
is not my wish, however, to release you from your guardianship.
I cannot do it nominally, as yet, and after the law shall permit
it, I shall still rely upon you for direction. A woman is not
fitted to be a financier. It is a trespass upon your time and
goodness, but I cannot endure that you should give me up."

" Nor I, my child. You will never ask advice or assistance
from me in vain. If your measures are ill-advised, I shall
oppose them, and forward your interest by every means in my
power."

" Thank you, sir. I was unjust to question this for an instant.
You feared to weary me with particulars ; you have no other
objection to my looking into them ?"

"None, certainly."

She pored over the columns attentively, and her guardian
felt his respect for her rising still higher, as the deep thought-
fulness which had its home in the eyes and brow, slowly covered
the face. It was no common mind speaking there il^was com-
petent to its work. A gleam of pleasure shot across her counte-
nance, as she concluded the examination. Dipping a pen into
the standish,.she sketched rapidly a calculation upon a sheet of
paper, and spread it before Mr. Dana.

ALONE. 331

" I registered a vow, years ago, that my maiden enterprise,
when I should come into office, should be the establishment of
a charity school. You have there an estimate of the amount
needed to put it into operation not guess-work, but the actual
sums I will have to expend for teacher's salary, books and furni-
ture, repair of .the room, and a small remainder for contingent
expenses. This knowledge I have gained by inquiry of those
familiar with these things. I am confounded at the paltry total
I interpret that arch of the eyebrows/' she continued, laugh,
ing, ' but before you cast any obstacle in my way, listen dear
Mr. Dana ! I have kept an e expense-book' ever since I can
recollect. During the first winter and spring of my going into
society in Richmond, I spent more than that in dresses and
ornaments the two summers I passed with Carry, previous to
her marriage, as much more, for it was a fashionable country
neighborhood, and in such, the passion for show and ostentation
is not a whit less than in the city. The price I should pay for
board elsewhere, will meet my personal expenses here ; I have
no near relatives for whom to economise, and there are scores of
children, growing up around me, destitute of education, except
that bestowed gratis by poverty and vice."

"I commend your resolution, my daughter," this was his
phrase of greatest endearment but it is a weighty undertaking
for a young person, and a woman. If commenced, it must be
prosecuted vigorously, or it will do more harm than good. One
session will hardly suffice for a beginning. This appropriation,
which is a liberal deduction from your income, small as you
deem it, is not for this year alone. Hitherto your affairs have
prospered, but you may have reverses. A failure of crops, which
not unfrequently happens to others, would embarrass you con-
siderably."

I would draw upon my invested funds."

And if stocks fall, or a bank breaks ?"

" And what is more probable than that all these misfortunes
will crowd upon, me at once, I may die !" said Ida, with per-
suasive gravity, "and when my Heavenly Master demands the
reckoning of my stewardship, I shall render in the plea, Lo !
here is Thy talent, hid in a napkin !' He has given me if
not riches more than a competency for my wants. It may not

832 ALONE.

be worldly-wise, dear guardian, but it is Christian-like, to give
of my present abundance, and trust that he will be as bountiful
in time to come, as He has been until now."

" There's sense and religion in that I" commented Mr. Grant,
admiringly.

"He that giveth to the poor, lendeth to the Lord," said
Ida, smiling in her guardian's face. " What think you of the
security, Mr. Dana?"

" That your faith shames my caution. Assuming that the
plan is feasible and prudent in its main points, let us descend to
the minutiae ' Repairs of building' where is the room ?"

Ida pointed from the window to a house in the yard. " My
father built it for an office my mother used it as a lumber-
room. The plastering has fallen, and the roof leaks, but Will
tells me the plantation carpenter and bricklayer can put it in
good order. They can make the desks and benches too."

" ' Books' this is the probable outlay, I suppose."

"It is computed from a list of prices, furnished by a book-
seller."

" Now, last and most important the teacher. Is it to be a
girls' or a boys' school ?"

" For girls, mainly ; but small boys will be admitted. Large
ones might be refractory to a lady."

" You will have an instructress, then ? Where will she
board ?"

" Here. Shall I not have a spinster household ?"

" With Miss Betsey to matronise you. You will be fastidious
in your selection, as she is to be a member of your family. Your
provident brain has not picked her out, surely ?"

" You will laugh when I say that I have one in view ; but I
am hesitating as to the propriety of making her an offer. I
have no false pride to prevent me from engaging in honest
labor ; but very sensible people, in other respects, are troubled
with this weakness. Neither do I mean to term mine a charity
school,' in consideration for pride of a more commendable kind,
which the parents may have. The teacher will be my equal
and companion. Without interfering with her government, I
shall be as well known to the pupils as herself; if she is absent
or sick, be her substitute; yet she may regard the situation as

ALONE. 333

too humble. Did you ever see a school-fellow of Carry's named
Emma Glenn, a modest, sweet-looking girl ?"

" Glenn ! I cannot recall her. She is your choice ?"

"Yes, sir. She is, like myself, an orphan. Anna Talbot
awakened my sympathies for her, by relating how and where
she saw her last summer. She is dependent upon her own
exertions, and for two years has taught in the family of an
uncle, for the miserable stipend think of it, sir ! of fifty dollars
a year ! for instructing six children, two of whom, sleep in her
chamber ; and her position is uncomfortable from various other
causes. She was universally beloved at school ; and her stand-
ing for scholarship, unquestionable. Can it be more humiliating
to labor as my colleague, than the despised beneficiary of a
niggardly relative ?"

" I imagine not," he rejoined, smiling. " What is your notion,
Mr. Grant, of this hair-brained young lady ?"

" That we should all be better, and I am not sure, but wiser
too, for some of her spirit " he replied.

"I am not, I hope, thoughtlessly sanguine, Mr. Dana;"
pursued Ida. " I expect discouragement and difficulties, for I
know the class I have to deal with. It is no girl's ambition to
play lady patroness that spurs me on in this task. The idea
originated with my mother, and was a darling scheme of hers
and mine ; but was laid low with many other benevolent plans
laid by, I should say for my prayer and aim are to prove
myself worthy of my parentage. Few females at my age are
placed in my circumstances ; and I do not court notoriety or
responsibility, although some will have it so. Constant, stirring
exercise is as indispensable to my mind as body. Forgive me,
dear sir; but I have been distressed by an occasional misgiving,
that you thought me unfeminine, regardless of public opinion.
I love my friends as dearly, truly as any one; I have no relish
for masculine pursuits ; I would have woman move in her God-
appointed sphere ; but if He has endowed me with talents and
opportunity for extending my usefulness, I fear not to improve
them. Do you understand me ?"

" My daughter ! must I say, that next to my wife, you are
nearer to me than any woman living ? and I respect and honor,
as much as I love you. Where is the mammet of fashion 1

31 ALONE.

would consult and trust as I do you ? You are honestly striving
with a purpose, and hoping for no plaudit but ' she hath done
what she could. ' How many ndstake the limit of their could !'
Go on as you have begun, and you will develope the highest
type of female character. That I have not .said this much
before, is because I am a man of few words ; and you appeared
to shun open praise."

Mr. Grant, seeing they were forgetting him, had, with native
delicacy, stepped without the door, upon pretext of speaking to
a passing laborer.

Ida was moved even to tears, by her guardian's unqualified
encomium, so feelingly uttered. The esteem of such a man was,
of itself a reward for her conflicts with self and outward tempta-
tions. She had so much to be thankful for ! she said over and
over, that day. She was at home ! at Sunnybank ! the air was
purer the water clearer the birds merrier, there than any-
where else ; and there was abiding tranquillity in the thought
that she might live and die under the roof-tree that sheltered her
cradle ; an enlargement of heart and kindliness as she beheld her
dependents rejoicing in her restoration to them ; looking to her
for support and happiness. And that mother's grave was there !
She sat there a long hour at even-tide. The willow leaflets were
just putting out, and the swaying of the flexile boughs was
slight and noiseless. There was a hush in the air not a dead
calm but a solemn pause, as if Nature had folded her busy
hands to return devout thanks for mercies past, and gather
strength for future labor. Ida was no sickly dreamer now.
She knew life, as it is a day ! only a day divide and sub-
divide as we may, the morning hallowed by some with early
prayer squandered by more in trifling ; the noon, waxing to
its height over reeking brows and panting chests, and straining
arms ; the evening, relaxing the strung muscles, and curdling
the bounding blood, and bringing to each his meed, righteous
recompense for his deeds, fair or foul ; and the night black-
browed angel, saying to the vexed brain, "Thy work is ended !"
spreading his hands over the swelling heart-wave, and it is still !
bidding the harassed body " Sleep on now and take your rest."
She knew life, and that to the God-fearing toiler in His vineyard,
there is no rest until nigh*. He is not denied the inhalation of

ALONE. 335

the odorous breeze, and a pause in the shade to wipe his heated
brow; but he must not swerve from his furrow to seek it.
Flowers, whose kindred blossom in Paradise, smile up from the
unsightly clods, and these ' he may wear in his bosom, leaving
unculled the poppies and almond-laurel which flaunt near by ;
content in knowing but this, what is his work, and bending,
training every power to the strenuous endeavor to do it.

Mr. Dana stayed but three days ; his family prolonged their
visit into as many weeks ; nor would Ida have resigned them
then, had not Emma been daily expected ; for the school was a
fixed fact. Accompanied and guarded by the faithful Will, Ida
had explored the woods, gullies and old fields for recruits. Her
determined spirit bore her out, or she would have thrown up the
project by the end of the first day. She chose what Will called
the " toughest cases " for her freshest energies.

" The Digganses " lived in a rickety hut, in the exact centre
of a common of broom straw, mowed down to stubble, for ten
feet around the door said area populated at Ida's visit, by five
white-headed children, three hounds, and two terrier puppies, a
full-grown grunter and a brood of little ones, and half a dozen
meagre fowls. The hounds bayed ; the terriers squeaked their
shrill treble ; the pigs squealed, and made for the high straw ;
the human animals scampered squallingly, into the house; while
Ida's horse to complete the hubbub set up a frightened neigh,
and would have run, but for Will's grip. Without waiting for
Mrs. Diggans' "Light! won't you ?" she sprang from the saddle.
The hostess came to the door with a greasy, steaming kettle in
one hand, and the flesh-fork in the other. She deposited thenj
upon the ground, wiped her hands upon her begrimmed apron,
and offered her right. Ida blessed the ignorance of Fashion's
laws in these regions, which did not compel her to remove her
gloves. The cabin did not belie the promise of the exterior. It
was dingy and dirty, scented with bacon and cabbage, and an
indescribable smell, as" of a musty cupboard, converted into a
sleeping-room. Yet these people were not disreputable, in the
ordinary acceptation of the word. They had never been convicted
of theft or drunkenness. Indolence and improvidence kept
them down, for they were never " up." They were as well
off now as when they married ; if the children came faster

336 ALONE.

than the bread, they begged or borrowed of their " lucky"
neighbors.

" I'm mighty pleased to see you !" said Mrs. Diggans, dusting
a wooden cricket with the convenient apron. " How much
you've growed like your mother. Good Fathers ! I never see
two folks more alike. You've done come home to live, I've
heern."

" I hope so, ma'am."

"You didn't like town-folks, I 'spose ?"

" Yes, ma'am ; I have some good friends there, but I think
my place is here."

" TSm-hum ! well you ain't married ?"

" Oh ! no, ma'am."

" But you're goin' to be, I reckon ?" slyly.

"Not that I know of. But how are you getting on, Mrs.
Diggans ?"

" Ah, Miss Idy ! in the same old way ; can't never make
both ends jine, but somehow we lives and fattens."

" How many children have you ?"

" Six my biggest girl is out, visitin' her father's kin."

" Is it possible ! I must be growing old. I recollect when
you were married. You wore your wedding-dress' the next
Sunday, and I thought it was so fine."

"I wonder if you do?" said the flattered Mrs. Diggans.
" Who'd a thought it ? and you so young ! One of my chil-
dren's named after you Ide-e-e !" with a car-whistle termina-
tion. " Gome here this minute ! I liked it, 'cause 'twas a pretty
name sort o' high-soundin' you know Ide-e-e-e !"

Ida had occular evidence of this, new beauty of her cognomen.

" And your mother was allers mighty kind to me ah ! she
was a lady every inch of her ! Ide-e-e-e ! if you don't come
'long, I'll spank you well !"

And " Idee" sneaked in, fist in her mouth, and scraped her
bare toes in a frightfully flesh-crawling, provoking manner, while
her namesake informed her of their relation to each other.

"How old are you, Ida?"

"Going on seven j" answered the mother.

" Can you read ?"

"Bless your life, Miss Idy ! I don't have time to teach them,

ALONE. 337

nor their father neither. Mercy knows how they are to git
any learnin'. Poor folks don't need much, but its more
re-spectable to know how to read and write."

" But you can read, Mrs. Diggans."

" I used to could."

" You do not object to their being taught if you are not
troubled about it ?"

" No-o. I reckon not but who's a goin' to do it ? thar's
the rub !"

" I will have it done."

"You! Miss Ida! oh oh! teachin' poor folk's chillen ain't
for the likes of you. "We've scuffled along without edication,
and so must they."

" Say you will send them, Mrs. Diggans, and I pledge you
my word they shall be as carefully attended to, as if they were
the richest in the land."

She explained her plan. Mrs. Diggans demurred.

" She couldn't spar Maria Julia, and Anne Marthy was too
little to walk so far; then their clothes warn't fitten. She
was mighty obliged, jest as much as if she had a-sent' em."

I am very sorry," said Ida. " I came here first, knowing
your attachment to our family. I am really desirous you should
oblige me. I am so disappointed."

Mrs. Diggans relented. " If they had decent clothes, Miss
Idy. See them dirty rags I"

" Their clothing must be whole and clean, certainly. Promise
they shall attend all the session, and I will give them a suit
apiece."

"You're too good, Miss Idy jest like your ma! We'll talk
about it."

" I must have an answer now. My number is limited, as
there will be but one teacher. How many shall I put down ?"
producing paper and pencil.

" Only two ! but that is better than none. For the entire
session,' Mrs. Diggans ; I trust to your word."

" I keeps a promise when I makes it. Set 'em down."

" Hard customers, Mistis !" said Will, as they remounted.

"Bather, Uncle Will; yet I dread our next visit as much.
Does Mr. Pinely drink now ?"

29

338 ALONE.

"When he can get money or beg liquor. I feel mean, when
he stops me in the road, to borrow a fourpence. ' Ah, Will !'
he says, e thriving and likely as when you drove your master's
carriage after his bride your late lamented mistis ! You don't
happen to have a fourpence in your pocket, my boy ? Unfor-
tunately, I'm out of change. Thank you, my fine fellow I'll
remember you my lad !' I can't deny him, Mistis. He knowcd
your father well, when they were both young men a smart,
handsome gentleman he was ! and to think I"

" And to see I" thought Ida, as the house peeped through the
trees, with unglazed windows, crumbling chimney, and sunken
roof. It was presented to him by her father a neat, comfort-
able cottage. His wife died of a broken heart ; the children
were saved from starvation and freezing, times without number,
by her mother. How they subsisted now, was an impenetrable
mystery ; for the father never did a stroke of work, and loafed
around the country, thrusting himself upon the hospitality of
those with whom he had associated in former years, wearing hia
welcome not threadbare, but into shreds, before he let go.
In a beggar's garb, and soliciting alms from the slaves of his old
companions, he retained the boastful swagger and ornate language
which earned for him, in youth, the soubriquet of " Pompous
Pinely."

The eldest daughter was sitting upon the door-step, dressed
almost in tatters ; her matted hair twisted up with a tinsel comb
a gift from her father, in a generously drunken fit; and
the remnants of a pair of silk stockings hanging about a neatly
turned foot and ankle. Her face was clean ; and Ida could not
but observe its beauty, as she blushed and smiled an embarrassed
welcome.

" You have not forgotten me, Laura ; but you have grown
so, I scarcely knew you. Are you all well ?"

Except papa, who has a headache. Walk in."

" No, thank you. It is pleasant out here." She seated herself
upon a block beside the door. " Where are the children ?"

Gone to look for strawberries."

Isn't it too early for them ?"

Fm afraid so but they wanted some so badly."

ALONE. 339

Ida suspected, from her stammering, thai more substantial
food would have been as acceptable.

"I came partly on business, Laura," she hastened to say,
apprehending an irruption from the interior. " I am trying to
get up a school in the neighborhood, to be taught at Sunnybank,
by a friend of mine "

" Miss floss ! do I in truth, have the felicity ?" Ida groaned
in spirit. The softened image of my ever lamented friend !"
continued the inebriate, whose headache was easily accounted
for. Putting his hand to his heart, he heaved a profound sigh.
"Ah! my dear young lady ! may you have the inheritance of
his transcendant virtues, as of his faultless physiognomy ! Laura,
my daughter have you offered our guest refreshments T'

" Excuse me, sir ! I have not time to partake of them. I was 1
apologising to Laura for my first visit being a business call."

"She wants to open a school up at Sunnybank, papa. Do
let us go!" cried the girl, eagerly. His face wore a mask of
extreme concern.

" It cannot be ! the righteous Fates can never be so oblivious
to unparalleled excellence as to ordain that you the solitary
scion of an aristocratic race, shall be reduced by unpropitious
vicissitudes, to the necessity of maintaining yourself by the
arduous employment of imparting instruction to the juvenile
mind !"

" A friend is to be the instructress, sir. I shall exercise a
general supervision."

"What a mountain you remove! I trembled at the sup-
position that you were precipitated upon the frozen charities
of a mercenary world. Ah, my young friend ! the most shameful
part of human hypocrisy is the heartless repudiation of unmerited
exigency !"

" May we go, papa ?" persisted the daughter. '! so want
to learn !"

" My beloved ! wariness is indispensable in the adjudication
of a measure vitally affecting your intellectual progress. Is your
friend versed in classical lore, Miss Ross?"

This absurdity was almost a match for Ida's forbearance.
" Her recommendations cannot be impeached, Mr. Finely," she
said, spiritedly.

340 ALONE.

" I solicit no further assurance, Miss Ross, than your appro-
bation of her qualifications. You have my paternal sanction,
my daughter. Moderate your transports, my love !" She had
clapped her hands. " Pray assign her extravaganzas to the
intensity of her admiration of your lovesome self, Miss Ross.
I blush at the trivialness of the reference but my income is
not what it was, when your father and myself were twin-souls.
The remorseless falchion of Time cleaves down rank and fortune
in his flight. The remuneration, Miss Ross ! If the scanty
pecuniary assistance I can render your fair friend will ameliorate
her hardships, my bosom's lord will sit lightly on its throne !' "

Ida curtly told him, "no tuition fees were demanded."

" That materially alters the aspect of your proposition. My
munificent lady ! this is a flagrant spoliation of yourself I"

" I do not consider it as such, sir."

" Your enthusiastic philanthropy misleads you. 1 cannot be an
accomplice to this generous fraud. My children remain in their
own habitation unless your friend accepts compensation for her
toils."

Laura looked ashamed and sorrowful, and Ida restrained her
indignant contempt. "We will not differ about a trifle, Mr.
Finely. The terms and time of payment are subject to your
discretion and convenience. I may enter your little ones
Laura included ? There are three, besides yourself, Laura ?"

" They are docile to the flower-wreathed wand of moral suasion,
Miss Ross, but may betray obduration if sterner means arc
employed. Of corporeal punishment we will not speak; the
rod would fall barbless, from the lily digits of gentle woman."

" You will come to school, Monday week ;" Ida was saying
to Laura : { but do not wait until then to pay me a visit. I
must have a long talk with you. Good bye."

Tears stood in Laura's eyes. Already she regarded her bene-
factress with feelings bordering upon devotion. Ida, in her sober
ride, turning over the degradation and misery whose alleviation
seemed impracticable, had no suspicion of the leaven she had
hidden in the heavy lump.

ALONE.

OHAPTEK XXIX

ANNA TALBOT'S sketch of Emma's privations was not over-
drawn. If her condition had been tolerable, an offer from Ida
Ross, as she recollected her, proud and unsociable, would not
have tempted her to change it. But Ida was honorable and
liberal, despite her haughtiness ; and in her uncle's family, she
was an ill-paid under-servant. Ida sent her carriage and servants
for her ; and this regard for her comfort, while it called forth
the contumely of her employers, raised her hopes of a friendly
reception.

" There's my mistis in the porch," said Will, leaning down
from his perch, to speak to his fair passenger. They were
driving up an avenue, closed by a house, which, to Emma's
modest eyes, was an imposing architectural pile. A haze dimmed
her vision ; in her agitation, she saw nothing of the awful figure
Will pointed out, but the nutter of white drapery. The great
yard-gates were open, and the carriage rolled over the gravelled
circle which swept by the main entrance. She did not recognise
the frank, sweet face that appeared at the carriage-door, but
the voice was not to be forgotten. '' I am very glad you are
come !" it said, and the kiss and the embrace verified the welcome.
" How changed I" was the thought of each. Emma was thin,
and when the glow of the meeting faded dejected. She looked,
to Ida, like one who had been subjected to a constant weight,
bending body and heart, almost to breaking, as if the one
feather more would end the torture. And her own spirit, gaining
buoyancy day by day, under its discipline, gathered force from
the necessity of restoring the lost elasticity to another's. She
conducted her school-fellow to a chamber, once hers, and adjoining
that she now occupied ; divested her of her heavy hat and shawl,
and commanded her imperatively to "lie down." Emma
reposed her weary limbs upon a luxurious mattress ; the breeze
waving the spotless curtains, and whispering of green hills, and
cool forests and violet banks ; her hostess, after vainly attempt-
29*

342 ALONE.

ing to persuade her that she required sleep bathing her head
with fragrant waters, and talking in inspiriting, affectionate
tones, which were more than manna to her hungry heart. Mrs
Dana had gone the preceding day, and Emma was soon con-
vinced that she had done a charitable most meritorious deed,
in arriving when she did; but she smiled, as she heard the
lively voice dilate upon the " horrors" and " azure imps," that
had infested the house while she was sole occupant "always
excepting my chaperon and soi-disant housekeeper, good Miss
Betsey soi-disant as I am, in point of fact, housekeeper myself.
I have a great fancy to see to everything with my own eyes.
We are retired here I wrote this, you know but there are
some agreeable families within visiting distance. I am delighted
at having a helper in the labor of receiving and returning visits ;
and my rides and walks will be doubly pleasant. Are you fond
of out-door exercise ?"

" Very but I have neglected the duty for a year or two past."
" You shall not be so remiss here. I intend to be exacting.
A gallop before breakfast, and a walk not a promenade
before tea, will plant bright roses in these white cheeks. "When
you are rested, we will unlock our budget of news. Having
been apart for so long, each, will have a week's steady talk."

When she arose, revived in spirits and strength, she was
taken over the premises " to see her home." Mr. Grant was
introduced, and doffed his hat as to a queen; the negroes were
respectfully cordial to the friend of their mistress; but more than
all, Ida's bearing assured the trampled-down orphan, that she
was here second to none superior in command and importance
to all, except the head of the establishment. It may have been
the earnestness, which was the prevailing element of Ida'?
character, or her sympathetic nature, (Charley affirmed it was
the latter,) which made it impossible for those who knew her,
to be indifferent, or lukewarm in their sentiments towards her.
Mr. Read, Josephine and Pemberton, having seen the wrong
side of her disposition, hated her with a rancor, benefits nor
patient efforts could appease. Her chosen intimates found no
mate for their affection, but in their esteem and respect. Lynn's
love for her was more like worship than that he entertained for

ALONE. 343

Ellen adored as she was ; with Carry, she had no compeer of
her sex ; the exceeding tenderness of John Dana and his wife
was a mystery to themselves; and in Charley's heart she had
the highest place taking rank even of the brother, to whom
he had sacrificed his hopes of earthly bliss. Emma experienced,
and yielded to the charm; she could not have resisted suc-
cessfully, if she would; for Ida was determined to attach her
to herself, and her indomitable resolution would have accom-
plished this, had her attractive qualities been less winningly
displayed. From the moment of her arrival, Emma improved,
and as the beautiful tracery of her character came out, to reward
the warm rays love poured over it, Ida was confirmed in hei
satisfaction at her choice. She had not entire confidence in hei
ability to control the restive spirits, which had run wild, without
rule or rein ; but this fear vanished with a careful observation
of her government and its results. If the ' wand" was "flower-
wreathed," it was no supple or brittle reed, to bend or snap in
the storm. None, who had once rebelled against her mild autho-
rity, were ever inclined to repeat the offence.

If, as had been asserted, Ida sought the Utopia of her fancifuJ
dreams in her " return to Palestine," as she playfully styled it ;
if her ideas of country life were drawn from pastorals and
romances, she would have sunk under the drawbacks and iron
realities she encountered. Her influence over her servants was
strong; but among so many, insubordination reared its head,
now and then. The idle and sulky, deceived by her amenity
and care for their welfare, appealed from Mr. Grant's decisions
to her clemency ; and with so much plausibility, that when this
mode of undermining his laws was new, she was ready to sustain
them. Consistent, however, to her principle of examining both
sides of a question, she refused to reverse any decree, before
hearing all the circumstances; and invariably, when this was
done, ratified the original judgment. There were old and
privileged supernumeraries who talked of her father's child-
hood, as a thing of yesterday ; and volunteering the advantage
of their experience for the benefit of the "poor chile," tossed
their heads high at the idea of her controlling or enlightening
them. Adding to self-righteousness, the whims and peevishness

344

ALONE.

of age, they caused Ida more annoyance than the management
of the whole estate besides; and hardly less than the never-
ending vexations of the Digganses, and their neighbors of the
same stamp, not to mention Finely most wearisorr,e of all. He
penned voluminous epistles, to complain of " a trivial oversight
in her otherwise irreproachable system of philanthropy," or
to convey a " father's acknowledgments for the soul-elevating
teachings of which his beloved offspring were accipients ;" and
when 'they were unnoticed, his visits were frequent. She
received him with distant politeness ; and strove to repress his
forwardness by chilling dignity and he came again next day.
At last he presented himself in the parlor, where were Emma
and herself so intoxicated, that he could not stand upright.
His tongue was oily as ever, notwithstanding his limbs refused
to do their office; and when Will entered, in answer to the
vehement ring, he was holding the door with both hands, swing-
ing it with him in his attempts to bow to the ladies, he was
addressing as, " incomparable pair ! whose supereminent enchant-
ments are confessed by the most hebete of created intelligences."

Emma had shrunk into a corner, and Ida, her hand still upon
the bell-rope her brow frowning spoke in a lofty tone, " Uncle
Will ! you will conduct this gentleman to the porch, and as much
further as he shall see convenient to go. It is necessary to
teach him to exercise some discrimination as to the times ot
his visits."

For Laura, the girls were strongly interested. Her pro-
gress in her studies was incredibly rapid ; and their wretched
home, if comfortless, was clean. She had no means of providing
wardrobes or furniture ; and Ida, hailing the dawning reforma-
tion, contributed as delicately as she could, such articles as they
needed most. Laura's taste was good ; and her aptitude enabled
her to catch the ways and language of her friends, with fidelity
and quickness. In six months after Ida's business call, she
would not have been ashamed to introduce her in any company,
however polished. But how was this to end ? Would it not
be wiser benevolence to content themselves with bestowing the
rudiments of a common education, without exciting aspirations
after pursuits, so incongruous with the occupations of her lowly

ALONE. 345

station, as belles lettres, music and drawing ? Ida put the
objection down with an irreversible negative.

" The girl has a mind ! and every intellect which God makes,
should receive all the nutriment it can absorb. Let us give
hei her quantum, and in time she will reach her level. She is
below it at present. If that odious father were out of her
way 1"

" He will be a drag to her as long as he lives /' said Emma.

" Yes, and alas ! he is more fit to live than to die. You have
read of the beggar idiot, who told Sir Walter Scott that he
would be perfectly happy, but for the ' Bubly Jock/ (turkey
gobbler,) that followed him everywhere. Finely is my Bubly
Jock/ I listen to hear him gobble whenever he comes near me."

"Laura has an uncommon talent for music /' said Emma.

"I have remarked it/' replied Ida, "and we have thought
of the same thing, that her surest path to independence, and the
position in society his vice has lost, is to qualify herself for a
teacher. I waited to consult you before recommending it to
her."

" And that delay was unnecessary. You can take my consent
for granted in everything your judgment approves. Now, Laura
has no motive but her love for knowledge and us. With a
definite aim, she will surmount every difiiculty, for her energy
is as remarkable as her ability."

This was one of their twilight talks in the roomy porch.

" I believe/' said Ida, laughing ; " Miss Betsey fears the Koss
pride is extinct in me. It costs her a twinge to see me teach
my sable class, and she modestly hinted, this morning, that her
chamber, or the dining-room would be a more proper place for
their recitations, than mine. I represented to her that they
were not there more than an hour in the day, and came in
groups of three or four one set retiring as another entered;
and that they felt a pride in being neat and orderly, because
they were in 'Mistis' room/ but the dear old creature was not
satisfied, although she held her peace."

" And you are the Ida Ross, whose pride kept the whole school
at a distance !" exclaimed Emma. " How you were misunder
stood !"

346 ALONE.

" Understood, my dear ! if I appeared disagreeable and selfish.
That was my dark age, Emma. How much has transpired since !
how much of sorrow how much of joy I"

11 You are not unhappy now I" said Emma, in a tone of sur-
prised inquirj'

" No, my love ! happy and busy and thankful for my Father's
love and favors not the least of which is His gift of a com-
panion."

Carry had asked her a similar question during her first sum-
mer at Poplar grove with what different emotions she had
replied 1

But," she resumed, " the unbending will is not dead yet.
Dr. Hall and lady called on me to-day, and I unfolded our
prospectus of a Sabbath-school. The doctor pursed up his mouth
in his quizzical way. The Church is four miles from you.'

" But only three from you/ said I.

" e There is preaching there, on an average, two Sabbaths
in a month. Will not that interfere with your instructions ?'

"'Not at all, sir. We shall be through by the hour for public
worship/

"'But there will not be time to go to another church, where
there is no service/

" ( Can't help it, sir. We must go home and read a sermon,
seasoned by the consciousness of duty performed/

" e You have a school-mania j' said he.

The grown trees are so stubbornly crooked, that I have
no hope but in the twigs/

. " A fair hit, doctor ! ' said Mrs. Hall. ' Submit with
a good grace. He was wishing, the other day, for something
to keep idle men ' and children off of Satan's ground/ He
is feigning objections, Ida/

" ' A bad game, doctor/ answered I. We will have the
school, and what is more, you for superintendent/

He remonstrated now in earnest, but we out-talked him. He
and Mr. Latham are to circulate the information, and solicit aid
and scholars."

"Who says unmarried women can do nothing in the work
of the world's reformation ?" said Emma. " How many in

ALONE. '

your situation, would be wrapped up in self, with a churlish
delight that the claims of their fellow-creatures upon them were
so feeble."

" A woman's heart, in its healthy state, must have some-
thing to love ;" returned Ida. " The fountain is perennial,
so long as its waters are drawn off Stop their outgoicgs
stagnation poisonous miasma dryness ensue. The more we
have to love, the better we feel the better we are, Emma for
the closer is our approximation to the Being, who is all love !"

" This time, a year ago, I was disposed to think that in the
economy of His Providence, crosses and trials were all His chil-
dren's portion in this life. Sweetly has He rebuked my want
of faith !" said Emma.

" Not a year ago," rejoined Ida, " His ways to me were
past finding out. I wished to stay here in peaceful seclusion,
and He sent me again into the world. The ' silver lining ' of
the cloud, impervious then, is already visible. Leaving out the
experience I have acquired in that time, I should have com-
menced my residence here under a guardianship, which made
interest and appearance the guage of fidelity ; should have
missed Mr. Dana's invaluable assistance; have lost an oppor-
tunity to forget past grievances, and return good for evil more
than one, indeed. I had not heard then, that you were teach-
ing, and should not, therefore, have thought of you as a
co-laborer. Uncle "Will would say we ought to be happy in
the Lord's appointed way.' "

" There is no other path of peace," said Emma. " Yet I am
foolishly ungrateful sometimes, in misinterpreting what He
has done, and peering into the ( shadowy future.'"

"That was, formerly, my besetting sin. Now I have to
guard against 'looking mournfully into the past.' What a
world of meaning in those few words ! And how like a trumpet-
call to the world's field of battle/ sound the inspired exhorta-
tions of the same poet

' Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant;

Let the dead Past bury its dead ;
Act act in the living Present !

Heart within, and God o'erhead!'

348

ALONE.

I can see the vigorous, upward fling of his arm, as shouting
that last line, he shakes out his banner in the morning breeze !
It thrills through every nerve, as I recite it."

" His is the true Bible philosophy," said Emma, living
by the day/ saying, as we fall asleep at night

' To-morrow, Lord! is Thine,

Lodged in Thy sovereign hand ;
And if its sun arise and shine,

It shines by Thy command!'

"Dear Lynn I" sighed Ida. "They sung that hymn at his
funeral."

" Looking mournfully !' " said Emma, in affectionate chiding.

" Yes ! yet not repiningly. I was thinking, also, of the sure
pleasure we have in the possession of our Father's love. We
know that is pure, and cannot pass away ; while our most sinless
earthly attachments are enjoyed with trembling."

The Sunday-school, a novelty to all the scoff of not a few,
opened with fifty scholars and five teachers Dr. and Mrs.
Hall, Mr. Latham, a student of medicine and protegi of the
former, Ida and Emma. Classing the children according to
their capacity and attainments, the Doctor apportioned an equal
number to each of his assistants, and planted himself before
a form, containing ten of the most unpromising. There must
be an awkward squad," he said, afterwards, " and who is more
fit to command it 1" Keinforcements were on the ground by
the following Sabbath. The number of pupils constantly in-
creased j some who came to see remained to teach ; and others
were pressed into service by the energetic superintendent.
Having induced him to put his hand t6 the plough, Ida gave
over her exertions in that quarter ; he drove as straight and
deep a furrow as she could have desired. She was a teacher
in an obscure corner, and nothing in her appearance or that of
her class, distinguished them from the crowd, but when the
thread-like rill widened into a flood, bearing broadly, steadily
onward, the wonder and praise of its early opponents, she felt
an honest pride in the reflection, that the witch-wand of Chris-
tian charity which had bent to the source of the stream was
hers. Dr. Hall was mindful of this, and with the mistaken, but

ALONE. 349

well-meant importunity of gratitude, begged her to occupy a
more conspicuous post. She had contributed largely to the
library, the selection of which was left wholly to her, and ho
entreated her to act as librarian. She declined, laughingly, and
more positively, as he insisted ; and at length, was driven to
say, that " if it were for the actual good of the school, she would
even do violence to her sense of propriety, and comply; as it
was not, she hoped to be excused from occupying a stand, which
was, for a lady, at best, but an honorable pillory." And the
Doctor, finally comprehending what other men as wise and
exemplary, are slow to admit that to use one's talents does
not imply the abandonment of the retiring modesty of woman-
hood installed Mr. Latham in the vacant chair.

Ida was not too much absorbed in her numerous avocations
to think of, and communicate with her absent friends. Her cor-
respondence with Mrs. Dana, Carry and Charley was regular ;
John Dana wrote longer letters to her than to any one besides
his wife ; she heard, once in a while, from Alice Murray, and
through her, learned that Mrs. Eead was living in strict retire-
ment at her father's, seeing none but her near relatives and
friends ; and that Richard was playing the lover to Lelia Arnold.
" But," said the merry writer " who angles for him, must bait
one of these patent hooks, which hold, as well as catch." Ida
sighed softly, as she read, and was unceasingly busy for the rest
of the day ; her infallible remedy for sombre thoughts. Mrs.
Read had written once, while Ida was at Mr. Dana's a mere
note of remembrances and thanks. She might have supposed
that Josephine had forgotten her existence, but for an uncom-
fortable suspicion that the cessation of Anna's friendly billets
was owing to her influence. Ellen Morris wrote often, and
spent a fortnight with her and Emma in August. Ida signalled
Carry of the intended visit, and invited her to join in the re-
union. She was eagerly expected each evening of Ellen's stay,
and as often they looked in vain. The guest had been gone a
week, before tidings came from Poplar grove. It was a double
letter. Arthur wrote that the little Ida was recovering from an
alarming illness. The crisis had passed now. They would have
sent for her, but the child's danger was so imminent for many
30

350

ALONE.

days, that there was no certainty that she would survive until a
letter reached Sunnybank. " If she had died" and the strong
physician's hand had trembled as he wrote it I should have
taken our Carry to you. It was a heart-breaking trial to her
I trust, not an unsanctified one."

Carry's was a blotted sheet, penned in agitation or haste, but
its contents were cheering wine to Ida's soul, There was much
said of her unworthiness, and thankless reception of the goodness
which had followed her all the days of her life, and thanksgiv-
ings for her child's restoration, with slight allusions to her
harrowing anxiety, while it was suspended 'twixt life and death.
"Pray, dear Ida," said she, " that I may forever cling to the
cross, to which I fled in my distressful hour I"

" Another I" said Ida, with tearful gladness. " Oh ! blessed
Redeemer ! is there not room in Thy fold for all?"

" Surely," she replied to Carry, " None of us liveth to himself,
and none of us dieth to himself. My darling name-child, (may
she be one of the Saviour's lambs !) has, in her unconscious
infancy, led her mother to Him. My own Carry ! this is what I
have prayed for from the first hour in which I prayed at all. If
the angels in heaven rejoice over repenting sinners, shall not we,
who have sinned, suffered with them, rejoice the more at their
emancipation from bondage? By what various avenues of
approach do we arrive at the Cross ! our Hope ! Some" fly,
scourged by fears of the wrath to come ; some are drawn by the
gentle cords of love attracted by the majestic sweetness of the
Saviour's smile ; others, like you, for comfort in sharp and
sudden sorrow ; and others yet, with myself, having quaffed in
quick succession, the beaded nectar that knowledge, worldly
applause, earthly loves gave to our parched lips, come weary,
distraught our blood drying with the fierce heat of the poison,
to lie down beside the still waters. Oh ! my beloved ! the
delights of sin may entice, and cavillers ridicule, as false profes-
sors cast reproach upon our holy religion; but let us make it the
one object of life all duties and pleasures subservient to it; let
us love it work for it ; never raising our hands, to sink again
idly, but striking blows which shall tell our zeal for Christ's
kingdom !

ALOtfE. 351

" I long to see you and your dear ones. If you cannot come
before, you are pledged to me for a part say the whole, ol
October. The entire family my guardian and your sister,
Charley and the wee ones' are to celebrate my majority then.
My nominal majority virtually, I am as free as I ever expect
to be, Emma is a treasure to me, and she seems happy. Who
could have presaged, in our school days, that we would live and
labor together 1"

352

ALONE.

CHAPTEK XXX.

LATJRA FINELY was practising her music lesson in the parlor
one day, when the entrance of a visitor transferred the motion
from her fingers to her feet. {c I only glanced at him as he
bowed to me on my way out," she said to Ida. " He is tall and
handsome."

" Have you ever seen Mr. Dana ?"

" Yes ma'am, and it is not he This is a younger man, and
much fairer."

" Who can it be ?" pondered Ida, crossing the hall. " I wish
he had sent in his name; I do not like to be taken by surprise."

But she was, as Richard Copeland rose to meet her.

" I had no thought of seeing you I" she said, expressing her
pleasure at his coming. " I did not know you were in this part
of the country."

" Nor was I, yesterday."

" You have been riding all day ; have you dined ?"

He arrested her movement towards the bell. " What are you
about to do ?"

" Order refreshments for yourself, and have your horse put
up."

" Entertainment for man and beast ?' " he responded, with a
sickly smile. " I dined on the road my steed ditto; and he can
stand where he is for a half-hour."

" Half-an-hour, Mr. Copeland ! You are not in the city I"

" But my visit must be short. How has the world treated you
since our parting?"

" Excellently well !" said she, gaily, but secretly ill at ease
at the alteration she observed in him. His manner to -her was
subduedly respectful ; but a reckless, Uase air hung about him,
token of carelessness or dissipation.

" Your friends at home are well, I hope," she said.

"Quite well. Helen " the remembered cloud lowered
gloomily a sent her regards."

ALONE. 853

" And you may carry my love back to her. I will not repay
formality by formality."

Love ?" questioned he, with a keen glance.

: Yes why not ?"

What reason have you to love her ?"

Certainly no cause for dislike," she replied. '' She treated
me kindly."

1 A dizzy man sees the world go round;' " quoted Richard.

Mr. Copeland !" said Ida, with a grave sincerity, that always
unmasked dissimulation. " For the short time we are together,
let us speak as friends, who understand each other. Or do you
prefer that I shall meet you upon your own ground of satirical
innuendo ?"

"As friends, Miss Ida! you have proved that the name is not
meaningless. But we do not understand each other."
"We did!" said she.

" Partially. You have risen I fallen in the scale of being,
since then. Your conduct to my unhappy sister, has imposed a
debt of gratitude upon us upon me, especially, which words
cannot liquidate. This is the one subject of mutual interest to
Helen and myself. She is, in effect, a cloistered nun; an
unsmiling ascetic; atoning for the sins of youth by penances
and alms. This phase of piety is the larvae stage, I imagine,
Miss Ross?" A grieved look answered the sneer. "Pardon
me ! if your charity can make allowance for one, who has become
a doubter from extraneous influences, rather than nature. Helen
and myself have never exchanged a word, except upon common-
place topics, during her widowhood, until three days ago. I
had avowed my implacable hatred of her lover in her hearing.
Other members of the family, have caught stray rumors here and
there, sent out, doubtless, by Miss Read ; but their unbelief in
them being settled by my silence, and Helen's apparent affliction,
they have not noticed them except by a passing denial. But
Helen knew that I watched her, and her surveillance of me was
as jealously vigilant. I have seen her face blanch in an agony
of alarm at my quitting her for an hour ; and the most tender
sister never wept and prayed for a brother's return, as she did
30*

354 ALONE.

for mine. I should not have been here now, but for intelligence,
received a week since, of Ashlin's death."

" Death !" ejaculated Ida, horrified. How had the " bold,
bad man" gone to his account ? Where was he now ?

" He was killed in a duel in Bourdeaux," said Richard, coolly.
" The villain escaped a less honorable fate by flight. Devoted
as Helen was to him, the news was a relief, removing as it did,
her apprehensions of our meeting. So much for her. Thus ends
the last chapter of that tragedy!" His countenance lost its
Ditter scorn.

" Miss Ida before I met you, I never feared to speak what
was in my thoughts. Policy or compassion may have deterred
me but cowardice never ! I believed I had read every page in
man's or woman's heart, and could flutter them with a breath.
5Tou were a study, taken up in curiosity, and baffling me by its
very simplicity. You furnished me with a clue ; but my skepti-
cism cast it aside to seek it again, and admit its efficacy in a
solitary instance. Ingenuous in word and deed you had yet,
a hidden history. I felt it then, vaguely not able to tell from
whence the consciousness sprung. Can it be that virtue thrives
only in the shade 1"

He stopped again. Ida's face was crimsoning slowly with
confusion and suspense.

"It must be said I" resumed he, desperately. "I may probe
a wound, or touch a callous heart. Miss Ross ! will you state to
me candidly, the character of your acquaintance with Mr. Lacy ?"

Ida's tongue was palsied. She would have given her estate
for power to say He was my friend " but it was denied.

" Then bear with me awhile. The evening of our introduction,
I imparted to you the information of Lelia Arnold's engage-
ment; and your deprecation of her trifling seemed only the
detestation of a pure and upright soul. If I saw mournful pity
in the eyes, which were often riveted by her beauty, I suspected
no more. Before leaving Richmond, I heard that he had been
perhaps was then your lover : the direction of your preference
was not known. In my superior sagacity, I opined that my
friend Germaine was his fortunate rival. Your rejection of his
suit recalled the gossip I had not thought worth remembering

ALONE. 355

Lelia was Helen's confidante ; knew of her betrothal to Ashlin,
and surmised, if she was not informed of the rupture, when it
occurred. After Mr. Read's death, my mother mentioned inci-
dentally, that her influence had been exerted to the utmost, to
persuade her friend to accept him. Until I heard that, I had
laughed at her snares to entangle me the only man, it was
said, who was invulnerable to her arts. I despised her before,
I hated her now ; yet the county rung with acclamations over
my capture; and the fair Lelia, in her exultation, was beguiled
into an impolitic show of tenderness. I have her picture, her
ring, her letters. I could dash them into the sea, without a
pang, and would plunge after them, sooner than marry her. I
designed a punishment for her falsehood in friendship and love ;
but all the while, was haunted with an indefinite thought that
you were to be affected by the result. If your lover had been
wiled away by her machinations, or more likely if she had
played upon his imagination and sense of honor, in an unguarded
hour I could free him. I intended to see you, and tell you
this, but Helen hastened the execution of the plot. Breaking
our accustomed reserve, she implored me to quiet her fears
touching my marriage. A glimmering of Lelia' s treachery had
penetrated her mind ; she mistrusted that she was playing me
false, and that she had deceived others. I struck a key, which
I knew would give a true sound her love for you. She had
heard your name coupled with his, she said ; and once, a direct
assertion of your attachment for him, but it was from lying lips.
If I have wearied and displeased you, intimate it. If not
here are the proofs to secure you revenge or happiness. Say the
word, and the dupe is enlightened. She will not suffer more,
that you connive at her disgrace. Her mortification will be
public, and is inevitable. Where is Mr. Lacy ?"

" I do not know, and would not tell you if I did I" cried Ida.
" If I were dying of a broken heart, I would refuse the healing
your cold-blooded scheme offered. She may be I believe her
unworthy of him; but when he sought her, he was shackled by
no vows to me. He is not a vain boy, to be flattered into a
courtship ! if duped, she has cruelly deceived the noblest heart
that ever beat. I honor him more for not discovering her snare,

356 ALONE.

than you, for mastering her in duplicity. No ! Mr. Copeland I
I have no wrongs to avenge upon him or her nor is it your
prerogative, to retaliate for your, or your sister's injuries. We
do not understand each other ! You impute traits to me, which
the weakest of my sex would blush to own ; and I thought you
generous high-minded ! ' Fallen,' indeed I" Her voice shook,
and her head sank upon the table. The man of the world was
confounded. The lofty tone of her principles lowered his plotted
vengeance into unmanly spite.

He had been incited to it by the low standard of the sex,
his sister's and her associate's conduct had set up in his mind ;
and a desire to betray the baseness of the currency the accom-
plished coquette was passing off upon society backed by a
justifiable displeasure at the evils of which she was the author.

"I am to understand that you disdain my offer to serve you?"
he said, rising.

She looked up. " To serve me ! how thankfully I would avail
myself of such ! I was hasty unkind ! Do not go yet !"

He sat down. It is all so confused I" she said, apologeti-
cally. " You are engaged to Lelia Arnold, and do not love her :
yet you must have told her that you did I"

He colored, and did not reply.

"You are meditating a punishment for her what has she
done that you have not '{"

" Falsehood unprovoked falsehood is viler in a woman I
was driven to it."

11 Viler in a woman more despicable in a man ! You should
be above the petty vanity and ambition, that if cultivated, root
up our better feelings. Selfishness, love of admiration, find in
your case, pique, actuated her; you have the bare pica of
malice I"

" Miss Ross ! malice !"

"Examine, and say if it is not so. Punishment, in this
world, has cure for its object. Was this yours? or was it that
she might endure the pain she had inflicted upon others ?"

" Call it retribution."

" There is but one Retributive Being. He says Vengeance
is mine !' "

ALONE. 357

"You are unsophisticated, Miss Ida. Your maxims are
obsolete in the polity of the age."

Because they are extracts from a changeless code. I am
serious, Mr. Copeland. Your conscience assures you that you
are in the wrong; that you have acted childishly sinfully.
That another debases God's gifts, is no reason why you should
sully the fine gold of your heart. You have committed this
outrage, or you could not talk of the sweetness of revenge."

And / am serious, Miss Ida. Unjust, as you say I have
been to myself, I have the manliness to recognise the superiority
of a character the antipodes of mine. I repeat, I regret my
inability to serve you. Good evening."

"Are you going thus ? What if we never meet again?"

" We part friends. Your reproaches, cutting as they were,
have not diminished my esteem."

She could extort nothing more satisfactory. He would make
no concessions tender no pledges. Large tears gathered and
dropped, as she beheld him mount and ride away ; and other
emotions than grief at her ill-success sent tributaries to the stream.

They prate senselessly who speak of forgotten loves or woes.
As in neglected grave-yards, briars and weeds spring up, and
delude the eye with the semblance of a smooth field, but when
levelled to the roots, show the mounds they grow upon ; so
above buried feelings, may wave memories and affections of later
years until some unforeseen event cuts, like a sickle-blade,
through their ranks, and we see, with tears, as of fresh bereave-
ment, the graves there still ! Ida's was a brave spirit, but it
trembled after the temptation was withdrawn. Richard had,
unknowingly, been guilty of great cruelty in breaking the seal of
her heart's closed chamber. Gingerly as he had handled its
precious things, he had caused exquisite pain; and for hours and
days, she felt that the door would not shut again. It was hard
to smile hard to concert plans for the future welfare of others,
when before her, was blank darkness. But the whirling chaos
was cleared and tranquillised in time; and even Emma was
ignorant of the storm.

On the fifteenth of October, the heiress of Sunnybank would
count her twenty-first birth day. The oldest negroes testified

358 ALONE.

that it had been the custom in the Ross family, for an hundred
years, to signalise such occasions with appropriate festivities j
and Ida waived her wishes for a quiet visit from her friends ; and
tried to be as much interested in the proposed illumination and
feast as if she were not the personage to be honoured. She
worked more willingly when the Danas wrote that they were all
coming, the Saturday before the fifteenth, which fell on Tuesday.
Emma's scholars had a vacation of four weeks ; and Laura Finely
was at the house most of her time. The two vied with each other
in the number and elegance of the decorations of the premises.

" What upon earth I" exclaimed Ida, stumbling over a heap
of green boughs in the back porch. Both girls screamed
" Oh ! take care 1" Ida sat down upon a bench, and untwisted
a long streamer of running cedar from her ancle.

What is this for ?"

" To dress the pictures and looking-glasses," said Emma.

" And to festoon upon the walls," chimed in Laura.

"And loop up bed and window-curtains/' finished Emma.

My dear girls ! if the President and suit were expected,
your preparations would not be more formidable. Why trouble
yourselves so much ?"

" Trouble ! you never incommode yourself for other people !
oh no !" replied Emma, in severe irony.

"We love the bustle and excitement of fixing," said Laura.

" And what is there for me to do ?" questioned Ida, stooping
over the pile.

" Nothing ! you are to play lady and hold your hands. It is
difficult, because unusual work but please try !" laughed Laura.

Miss Betsey came along, with a rueful face. " Miss Ida
there's a dozen loaves of cake, and ever so many snow-balls wont
get in the big sideboard, no how I"

" Put them in the light closet, Miss Betsey. I hope we shall
be able to eat it all !" she continued to the girls.

" Never fear !" said Emma. " Your Richmond party could
consume it in a week. How many are there ?"

" Let me see ! Arthur, Carry and my pet three Mr. and
Mrs. Dana, three children and Charley nine. They will be
Here to-morrow night Ellen Morris, Monday or Tuesday. I

A L o x i: . 359

have invited Anna Talbot and Josephine but do not expect
them. Then for Tuesday evening from the neighborhood
Dr. Hall and lady and a friend, who shall be nameless "
pinching Emma's cheek " the Strattons Kingstons Frenches
and oh ! I gave Charley carte-blanche to ask any of my Rich-
mond acquaintances and all for what ? To hear that Miss Ida
Ross is "

" ' Free, white, and twenty-one !' " sang Emma, cheerily.

" Twenty-one ! in four years, I shall be a spinster of a quarter
of a century ! Heigho !" She said it jestingly ; but at nightfall,
she was pacing the porch alone Laura having gone home, and
Enima asleep, wearied by her day's activity ; and the thought,
returned to her. Twenty-one ! the golden sands were slipping
fast. The sky-meeting waves upon the horizon no longer blushed
with sunset dyes, and nodded their bright crests, in luring
welcome; her eyes were bent upon the regular swell of the
Present, as she glided over it. The navigation of the unknown
seas beyond, she trusted to the Pilot, who had engaged to see
her safely to the desired haven. It was a holy, still hour.

Her swift step scarcely broke the silence the firm, elastic
tread cf youth and health ; and an unruffled spirit was within ;
a fulness of contentment and peace the world could not disturb
or take away. She had conned that invaluable lesson " It is
better to trust than to hope/'

A letter, ma'am no papers," said Will, sententiously.

" Thank you, uncle Will. Tell James to bring a lamp into
the parlor, if you please. I almost dread to open this !" she
said to herself. " My fears are always on the alert, to forebode
evil to those I love. I will be courageous will have faith I"
and she walked resolutely into the lighted room. But the super-
scription sent a tremor to her heart a minute elapsed before
she opened it.

THE LETTER.

I have come home alone, dear friend, leaving our Annie
asleep in a foreign land. Her day of suffering closed in ease
and peace ; her ' good night' was as calm, as though she were
sinking into a slumber of hours, instead of ages. A lonely,

360 ALONE

stricken man, I retraced the route we had travelled in company,
to find that I had never indeed missed and mourned her, until
I saw her empty chamber at home. Here ' I cannot make
her dead !' Oh ! the desolation of that word, when applied to
one, in whose veins ran the same blood as in ours, who lived and
loved with us partaker of our individuality ! As love is
immortal, we would believe the frail clay to which it clings,
imperishable too. But in our grief, there is a mingling of praise
that her rest is safe that a merciful Father is also wise, and
will not, in answer to our selfish lamentations, restore her to an

existence replete with pain.

#*##**#

" The date of the above a month back may surprise you.
I wrote a fortnight after I touched my native shore ; contem-
plating such a letter as one friend might send to another ;
to inform you of my bereavement, and solicit the sympathy
none ever ask in vain from you. I was interrupted to read a
sommunication which has changed not the tenor of this alone,
but the current of all my anticipations. It was from Miss
Arnold ; an annulment of the contract between us ; a step, she
says, foreseen from an early period of our engagement, when she
discovered that the heart, she thought she had surrendered to
me, was wholly another's. I omit much that would be uninte-
resting to you; and which, in honour, I ought not to trans-
cribe. Briefly then the facts stand thus. She never loved me ;
and when the owner of her heart sued for her hand, she pledged
it, and asked for a release from her previous vow. I have no
inclination to animadvert upon her course singular and incon-
sistent as it has been throughout but am obliged to refer to
certain particulars, to make clear the explanation which follows.

" I have told you, Ida, that my attentions, from the begin-
ning of our intercourse, until my conviction of your betrothal,
were correct exponents of my feelings. I cannot deny that
when compelled to acknowledge the uselessness of my efforts, I
judged you harshly was tempted to believe you an unprincipled
trifler with my hopes, and the truth of your accepted lover. As
my indignation and disappointment cooled before mature reflec-
tion, my faith in your sterling integrity revived.

ALONE. 3G1

" Not a word had escaped ine which Friendship might not
have dictated; and your manner to me was less confidingly
affectionate than to Charley. You regarded me as a brother;
and if in that capacity, any act or word of mine could conduce
to your happiness it should not be withheld. Your committal
of your lover's cause to me was a powerful appeal to every
generous feeling. I solemnly resolved then, that you should
never regret your implicit trust. At his death-bed, my thought
was for you and him; at his grave, as I upheld your sinking
form my heart answering the heavings of yours, in our common
sorrow I renewed the promise never to desecrate the purity of
your friendship, by a breath of a love, demanding reciprocation
in that which had gone down with him into the tomb. In this
illusion, I came home. You know whom I met here ; and that
her surpassing loveliness, her apparent artlessness and amiability
captivated us all. Annie loved her fervently, and threw us
together by many innocent manoeuvres Dear girl ! it was the
blameless impulse of a loving heart to unite two, who seemed
to her hopeful perceptions to be destined for each other. I was
amused at her fancy then uneasy, lest it should be a restriction
upon Miss Arnold's kindly feelings for the brother of her friend.
I could not wound Annie by reproof or caution ; so, after a
while, descrying in Miss Arnold's demeanor, a touch of the
dreaded embarrassment, I introduced the subject in a tone of
light badinage. I may not describe the interview ; my senti-
ments and bearing had been utterly misconstrued. She did not
express this in words, but her perturbation was unmistakeable. I
reflected upon this unlooked-for disclosure with no enviable
emotions. I was free ; no hope ventured to point to you ; and I
might learn to love the beautiful, tender creature, whom I had
unintentionally deceived. In honour in conscience in huma-
nity what could I do, but tell her that, although not offering
the deep tenderness of a first love I would cherish her as faith-
fully, if not as fondly, as man ever did the woman he wooed
and won ? I cannot dwell upon the untold anguish of the moment
when the fallacy of my impressions and reasonings was exposed.
The tempter was at my ear. Violation of my plighted word
the downfall of her hopes wero nothing ! the barrier which
31

362 ALONE.

parted us was down the impossibility of our union was a
chimera, dissolving in the beams of truth. You saved me ! look-
ing away from our divided lives, you reminded me that duty
here writes our title-deeds to reward hereafter and I submitted
to the decree.

" Now dear Ida ! but the rush of hope ebbs suddenly The
thought that flew towards you, the moment I was freed now,
that the slow weeks I allotted to rigid self-examination have
rolled by spreads its wings as eagerly still but you ?

" What was I to you ? what may I hope to be ? I have ascer-
tained that you are unmarried are you heart-free ? May I come
to you ? Dare I say reply at once ? I would not wring from
you a hasty decision, but remember my suspense. May every
blessing be yours !

MOETON LACY."

ALONE. 305

CHAPTER XXXI.

MR. Grant, wife and sister-in-law were " dear, nice old folks,"
who liked to see young people enjoy themselves, prim and staid
'though they were; and they had their fill of delight, that
important Saturday; for three merrier mad-caps Sunnybank
never held. Ida was the ringleader in the mirthful frolic.

" She's so pleased 'cause Mars' Charles is comin'," said
Rachel, in a pretended " aside" to Emma and Laura ; and Ida
laughed, instead of reproving the gratuitous explanation. I do
want to see Charley Bless him !" said she.

" Is he a very dear friend ?" asked Laura.

Very dear !" Ida emphasized as strongly ; " almost on a
par with Carry. We will have fun while he is here ;" and she
launched into a recital of some of his freaks and stories ; elicit-
ing bursts of nuerriment from her listeners, which pealed even
to the door of Miss Betsey's room, and hurried Mrs. Grant down
stairs, " to hear what the joke was." The girls were upon the
carpet in the middle of the large parlor, cutting pink and white
paper roses. The graceful running cedar, they were to enliven,
draped the walls, and 'hid the tarnished mouldings of the old
portrait frames ; geraniums and mignionette breathed sweetly
through the parted muslin curtains ; but nothing was so fair in
the dame's eyes as the centre group. Laura was a brunette
black eyes, nectarine bloom and pouting rosy lips the hand-
somest of the trio ; Emma's dove-like eyes, classic oval face and
varying complexion placed her next. Ida sat between them,
speaking with much animation of voice and action the glee of
a child, and the modulations of a clever elocutionist.

" Well !" said Mrs. Grant, when the narration was ended, if
you all aint a happy set, I'll give up my judgment !"

Don't do that, I beg !" said Ida. We need it this minute,
to tell us whether to mix these roses in the wreaths, or to dress
this room with white ones, and the dining-room with pink."

Mrs. Grant set her head to one side, and her hand upon her

364 ALONE.

hip. It was a serious question. " Well, I don't know exactly
Either way's very pretty. What do you say ?"

" Oh ! but we agreed to leave it to you. White ones look
best by lamplight."

" So they do ! Well 'spose you put them in here, as the
party meets in the parlor."

" Thank you, ma'am. I am of the same opinion myself/'

"And I" "and I" said the others; and Mrs. Grant,
pleased at having, for once in her life, expressed a decided
opinion, " reckoned Becky and Molly wouldn't beat them beds
half enough if she didn't follow them up."

The impromptu "rose case," upon which Emma and Laura
rallied Ida, was finished before dinner ; and resolving themselves
into a " committee of inspection," they visited every room in
a body, with Miss Betsey and Mrs. Grant as rear guard. Even
the wainscotted chambers were cheerful snow-drifts of beds
and window-hangings lined with pink stainless toilette covers j
painted bouquets upon the fire-screens, and real ones upon the
dressing-tables.

" Sunnybank deserves its name to-day," said Emma, leading
Ida to a window.

The October sun was everywhere ; playing with the laughing
cascade which fell over the rock, at the foot of the sloping lawn j
carpeting the forest with tesselated gold ; and the sheen of Ida's
pine-grove was as of millions of burnished needles.

" It is brighter here !" said Ida, laying her friend's hand
upon her breast.

" You need not say so ; your smile shows it. It is like
sunshine itself."

" Shall I tell her ?" thought Ida. " Not yet ! he will be here
in a few days and then I" and the heart-bound threw the
blood, in a scarlet gush to her cheeks.

Love like hers is never selfish. When they were separating
to dress, she called Laura into her room. Two dresses a
rose-coloured challe", and a white muslin were upon the bod.
"No thanks, dear!" she said, as the delighted creature claspr i
her arms about her neck, in speechless gratitude. " You, who
do so much forme and mine, deserve some token of repir'

ALONE. 365

What ! tears ! Dry them instantly, and try your dresses. Ah !
they fit ! I thought we were nearly the same size, so had
them cut by my patterns. Emma ! step in here ! Are we not
proud of our pupil ?"

" She does not require fine rpbes to win praise from me/'
said Emma. " How handsome and becoming ! just, what one
might expect from the donor."

" She is the best, dearest friend I have" began Laura, smil-
ing through her tears.

"Hush I" said Ida, threateningly. "Flatterers! both of you 1
be off and beautify' as Charley says. And Laura do you
hear ? don't have eyes and dress to match ! a contrast is better."

The main part of Sunnybank house was capped by a sort of
belvidere, accessible by steps from the garret. Why it had been
built was one of Ida's childish studies ; and the acquisition of
other knowledge was no help to the elucidation of this mystery.
Emma said the founder of the mansion had an astronomical
turn, and used it as an observatory; Laura, that it was a
belfry, from which the alarm-bell was sounded to collect the
surrounding settlers, when an incursion was made by the sava-
ges; Ida's more matter-of-fact belief was that her ancestor had
more fondness than taste for ornamental architecture, and so
planned this tuft to the conical crown of his habitation. On the
birth-night, this was to be illuminated ; the brackets were pre-
pared, and some of the candles in the sockets. Nearer and faster
descended the darkness. Aunt Judy fidgeted from the kitchen
to the house, and from the house to the kitchen, in mortal fear
for the credit of her supper. Miss Betsey prognosticated upset-
tings and wheel -breakings, and "hoped the horses were sure-
footed. That hill, the other side of Tim's Creek was awful of
a dark night."

"I say, girls !" exclaimed Ida, " we will light the belvidere !
They can see it six miles off. Anything but idle waiting I"

She was to stand in the yard, and direct the disposition of the

lights Laura, Emma and Will, who thought no whim of his

" mistis" absurd, ascended to the roof. The breeze was at rest ;

and the rays shot forth, clear and straight, down the avenue,

31*

366 ALONE.

magnifying the proportions of the fantastic roof. The others
came out to admire the effect with her.

Hist 1" said she. Music I"

But there was not a sound.

" I heard it I know \" said she, positively. Come into the
porch."

Another note was repeated by the hills. " I said so ! they
are coming singing ! Isn't that like Charley ?" She distin-
guished voices as they approached; Carry's soft alto; Mrs
Dana's soprano, " Arthur yes ! that is his tenor and Mr.
Dana and Charley have the base !"

"The tune changes !" said Emma. "Auld Lang Syne oh !
how sweet I"

Ida's eyes were streaming, her heart aching with joy. The
carriages two and a buggy, drove up to the door ; and with a
scream of rapture she lifted Carry to the ground, not knowing
who came next only that they were all there. All ! no ! where
was Charley? She stopped upon the steps; Elle holding to her
dress; one hand in Carry's, the other upon her guardian's arm.

" Charley ! where are you ?"

" Here !" with a muster-roll intonation. He raised her
fingers to his lips an unprecedented action with him and
holding them still, looked over his shoulder. " Here is a gen-
tleman who is afraid you will shut your doors upon him, for
coming without a special invitation/'

" Mr. Germaine I" thought Ida, fearfully ; but his was not
the figure that emerged from the shade, nor the warm grasp, in
which Charley, with a movement full of grace and feeling, placed
her hand ; nor his the voice that said I do not doubt her
hospitality, but my deserts."

" Do you forget your friends, that you expect a similar fate,
Mr. Lacy?" said Ida.

His actual presence was the roseleaf upon the mantling cup
of bliss. It did not overflow ; tumultuating passions were stilled
into a calm, delicious ecstacy. She was more composed than
she had been at any time since the reading of the letter, saw
everything, thought of everybody. Carry and Emma went up
stairs arm in arm, and Ida, her baby namesake, folded to her

ALONE. 367

heart, was following Mrs. Dana, when she recollected Laura.
She was standing, alone and overlooked, in the hall.

"Here, Laura! I confide my darling to your keeping.
Gently ! don't wake her. Is she not a lovely babe ?"

" Beautiful I" said Laura, in proud gratification.

The sleepy childrens' suppers were brought up, and they
were snug in bed before their elders were prepared for their
meal. The gentlemen were in the yard, looking at the belvidere.

" Your beacon puzzled us considerably/' said Charley to Ida.
" It appeared to be upon the summit of a huge, shapeless height.
We thought we had lost our road and wandered off to the
Enchanted Mountains."

"Or that a remnant of Grhebers had an asylum among these
hills," said Mr. Lacy. " You should have heard Charley's

' Fierce and bigh

The death-pile blazed into the sky,
And far away, o'er rock and flood,
Its melancholy radiance sent !' "

"Was I the only rhapsodizer ?" retorted Charley. "Who
said, when a figure passed before the light

' Hafed, like a vision, stood
Eevealed before the burning pyre,
Tall, shadowy, like a Spirit of Fire,
Shrined in its own grand element?'"

" Why, that was uncle Will !" exclaimed Emma.

Amid the burst of laughter that replied, Charley pronounced
poetry " done."

" And having descended to real life, perhaps you do not object
to more substantial food," said Ida. On the way to the house,
some one took her hand.

" Has my impatience offended ? I could not wait !" said a
hasty whisper.

"No."

"Am I welcome?"

"In every sense of the word," was the ingenuous response.
This was their plighting.

The sun was not up, when Ida raised the parlor windows next

morning. Above the dun zone of forest, rested another, oi

. silvery grey vapor, and higher, legions of fleecy cloudlets, from

ALONE.

all parts of the heavens, hung motionless, as angels may hover,
in rapt adoration, over the crystal walls of the New Jerusalem.
He arose ! the " bridegroom of earth and brother of time !" and
her simile changed as assuming roseate and golden robes, the
expectant host wove themselves into a gorgeous causeway, by
which he seemed to mount the heavens. So "Jesus left the
dead I" the Sun of Righteousness burst His prison gates ; and
the shining ones sang the consummation of a world's redemp-
tion. She was reading her Bible, alternately with the resplendent
leaf Nature unfurled this autumnal Sabbath, when a step dis-
pelled her trance.

Good morning 1" said Mr. Lacy. " You are an early riser."

" There is my reward I" pointing to the scene without.

" May I participate, in virtue of my second-best claim ?" asked
he, with his own beaming smile, seating himself before she
assented. Ida's trifling embarrassment was transient. His beha-
viour, open and free, as of old, had not a tincture of reserve, or
significance to indicate that he thought of their new relation.
The beauty of our lower sanctuary ; the upper, which it dimly
shadows forth; Annie's sickness and death; the Christian's
work and hopes were the matter of their conversation ; and as
the rest assembled, they were spared the disagreeable sensation
one feels at interrupting a tete-a-tete.

" Is it time to ring the prayer-bell, Ida ?" asked Emma, as the
last loiterer came in.

" I think so. We breakfast early on Sunday mornings, that
we may be at school in season," she said to Mrs. Dana.

It was her practice to lead in family worship, night and morn-
ing. Arthur had performed this oflice the evening before, and
the servants having collected in the hall, she motioned him to
the stand, where lay the Bible.

I am hoarse," he said. Lacy I"

The person addressed reddened slightly, but conquering him
self instantly, did as he was requested ; and Ida, too, although
not so easily, lost the identity of the man in the reader, and
was prepared to join, with solemnity and fervor of spirit, in hia
prayer.

By Charley's contrivance, they rode to church in the light

ALONE. soy

buggy. Ida condemned herself for the feeling of disappointment
that fell suddenly upon her, as the school-house appeared; and
more for the fancies which strayed starry-winged butterflies
into the machinery of her morning's duties; but her pupils were
unconscious of the visitants.

" Is that your regular pastor ?" inquired Mr.' Lacy, as they
were driving back.

" //--regular, rather if you speak of the seasons of his minis-
trations. Presiding over three I am not certain it is not four
congregations, he preaches for us once a month/'

Who officiates the three other Sabbaths ?"

" Sometimes the pastor of the Hill-side church. The second
Sabbath is his day in course ; but he lives twelve miles off. If
he is among the missing, we catch up a circuit-rider, or go ser-
monless."

" e These things ought not so to be.' "

"I know it but they are! Who is to remedy them? Palm-
branch is a free church."

" And as often free of preachers, as of sectarianism, it seems/'
said he.

" More frequently. The war of polemic debate is waged as
furiously there, as if the controversialists owned pulpit, pews
and people. The number of communicants of our persuasion,
in this neighborhood, is small ; yet they are mostly persons in
good circumstances, and able to have a church of their own, if
they would think so."

"They should purchase this Palm-branch. There is more
euphony than meaning in that name, when applied to a house."

" A free church, especially," answered Ida. However, our
Sabbath-school has vanquished its enemies, and may lead the
church on to victory."

" Dr. Hall awards the merits of this enterprise to you. Has
your residence here enlarged or contracted your sphere of useful-
ness ?"

" Enlarged it. Not that this would be the case with most
people. The city presents more facilities for benevolence gene-
rally; but my family had influence here; and my servant*
wanted a manager. There are more deprivations than I antici-

370 ALONE.

pa ted; the separation from my friends; want of general society;
the dearth of books and intellectual recreations ; and last and
worst abridgement of my church privileges. Still I do not
repent my removal. My happiest days have been my Sunny-
bank life."

" Because you are in your right orbit. The evils you recount
are not irremediable ; we will discuss them at length, some day."

This was the only reference to the future, as theirs into
which he was betrayed all day ; but it struck Ida dumb. She
recovered her speech by evening; for she and Charley strolled in
the garden, in close converse, until Mr. Dana sent Morton to
warn them of the night dew. He perceived, as did the whole
party, traces of emotion in her countenance; and Charley was
very grave, although not melancholy. Music was proposed
after tea ; and Ida unlocked the parlor organ, a gift to Mrs.
Ross from her husband, and still a fine instrument. Emma
blushed so deeply at her nomination as organist, that Ida recalled
the motion and occupied her accustomed place. Her fingers
wandered; and Mr. Lacy, bending over to adjust the book, said
softly, " Do not attempt to play, if you are indisposed." She
smiled. " I am only weak and silly ; I shall be better directly."
And ere the first hymn was concluded her clear voice led the
choristers, and the pealing chords rolled out in full strength and
harmdny.

The bell rang for prayers. Arthur glanced at Ida, and was
arrested in the act of rising, by seeing her wheel a chair to the
stand, and beckon to Charley. Yet more astounded were all
that he took it. Unclasping the Bible, he read distinctly and
reverently, a portion of its sacred contents ; and they knelt with
him at the mercy-seat. A stifled sob, and more than one sigh
from surcharged bosoms, responded to his petitions; and Carry
wept aloud at the Amen." Arthur was equally moved. ' God
bless you, Charley !" was all he could say, as he wrung his hand.

"He has blessed him, and us," said Morton, joyfully. " I
thought this would be the end of it, my good friend I"

"Not the end the beginning !" said Ida, who stood by her
adopted brother. " Only the beginning ! is it not, Charley ?"

" You were the beginning!" said he, smiling. "My mind

ALONE. 371

has been made up for some time ; but it was proper that she
should be the first apprised of it. I was stubborn and rebellious;
and the consistent practice of one private Christian did more to
convict me than the preaching of the entire apostolic succession
Saints Paul and Peter to head them could have done."

"0, Charley! you are Charley still:!" laughed Carry.

" And always will be, I hope ! " rejoined Morton. " Religion,
my dear Mrs. Dana, does not malte but mend, the dispositon."

372 ALONE

CHAPTER XXXII.

YES I Charley was Charley still !" The brothers were walk-
ing the piazza, Monday morning ; and John's smile and
Arthur's laugh applauded the quaint humor which came from
his lips, as freely as respiration of the air his lungs had inhaled.
He was a consummate actor; and his self-command balked the
sharpest scrutiny when he chose; but his spirits, this morning,
were not feigned. Mrs. Dana, Emma and Laura made their
appearance, and at length, Charley's flow of talk could no
longer delay the inquiry " Where are Ida and Mr. Lacy ?"

" Brushing the dew upon the upland lawn.' " said Charley.
" Gone to ride."

" When did they start ?" asked John.

11 Just as you shut your eyes for a second nap luxurious
citizen that you are. When will they return ?' query the
second. You will see them on the top of that hill in a minute."

They cantered down the avenue in gallant style. Ida was
an expert rider ; and her escort appeared to as much advantage
on horseback as on foot.

" A handsome couple !" said Arthur.

Charley made no reply. " You do your teacher justice," he
said, as Ida leaped to the ground, barely touching Mr. Lacy's
hand.

" And more could not be said for master or pupil /' she
answered, saucily.

" Morning rides are wonderful cosmetics !" he whispered, ful-
lowing her into the hall. She snapped her whip at him, but
those mischievous eyes were too searching, and she ran off " to
change her dress."

"I am for a walk to the river. Who accompanies me?" said
John Dana. Ida held the taper at which he was kindling
a cigar his invariable after-breakfast luxury and the flame
was paled by her vivid glow, as Mr. Lacy said quietly, " I will,
sir, with pleasure."

ALONE. 373

In an Lour they returned, and the summons "Mr. Dana's
respects, and if you please ma'am, he wants the pleasure of
your company in the drawing-room," robbed her of the last
spark of self-possession. She stopped at the door, to muster
courage ; but her guardian had heard her step, and opened it
from within. " I have no lecture for you," he said, passing
his arm assuringly around her. " This is an event, we fathers
have to bear, as best we may. I am fortunate that your choice
has my unqualified sanction. You have acted wisely, nobly, my
daughter."

"Dear Mr. Dana ! I feared you would think me uncommuni-
cative ; but I did not know it myself until within a day or two."

" I am advised of the incidents of your drama. Never try
to convince me again, that you are an unromantic young lady !
What is your evidence, Mr. Lacy ?"

She had not seen, until this speech, that he was present. She
bestowed one look upon him, and the magnetic charm of his
smile equallized her nerves and thoughts. Mr. Dana would
have left the room, but Morton stayed him. In succinct and
manly terms, he thanked him for the expression of an esteem,
it should be the study of his life to merit. I am aware, sir,
that it is arrant boldness to ask more from your kindness ; but
you engaged to intercede for me in another suit." Ida looked
up, hurriedly. The gentlemen smiled; and Mr. Lacy whispered
a sentence in her ear.

" Oh no ! no I" she ejaculated, " too soon I"

" Why too soon?' " It was John Dana, who drew her away
from her lover, and pushed back the shadowing curls from her
forehead. " Think of Mr. Lacy and myself as old friends, and
speak out the language of your own warm heart. Why ' too
soon,' Ida ? Don't you know him well, enough ?"

Another glance was the signal for another smile.

" Will you ever know him better ?" asked Mr. Lacy.

I think not," she replied.

" You don't like him well enough, then ?" pursued Mr. Dana.

The curls drooped over her face, and she was mute.

" Perhaps you do not like the idea of resigning your freedom \
i lie very day you gain it?"

32

374 ALONE.

" No, Mr. Dana ! you know that is not it."

"What then?" Mr. Lacy secured her disengaged hand.
"If this proposal distresses you, Ida, I revoke it without a
murmur, and will abide your convenience, or inclination pati-
ently ; but if it is a question of expediency, you cannot suppose
that Mr. Dana or myself would urge a measure, we were not
assured was reasonable and proper. Your dearest friends are
with you what renders delay necessary or advisable V'

"But what will they say?"

tl An odd inquiry from you ! What potent they ' do you
mean 1"

Carry Arthur Mrs. Dana Charley all of them."

"Charley has been my abettor from the beginning. From
him I learned your locality ; and he warranted me a friendly
reception, if nothing more. I should not have had the confi-
dence to propose this immediate union, if he had not favored
jiy ardent wish. You trust in his judgment in other matters
why not now ? As for the rest of those you name when did
they oppose anything you advocated?"

" But your friends your mother ?"

" Is prepared to love you as a daughter."

" She wishes me to decide, I see ;" said John, dictatorially.
" Therefore, silencing all disputes the fatted calf is slain the
neighbors are bidden and I, as this perverse maiden's lawful
guardian setting my face, like a flint, against wasteful
improvidence decree an occasion for the feast, instead of a feast
for the occasion ; and as this must be, the sooner we are rid of
the trouble the better. Not a syllable, Miss Ross! you are
still a minor ; and I will indict you for insubordination, if you
are refractory. I am going to tell Jenny to air my white vest
for to-morrow evening."

Emma, Laura and Carry were in Mrs. Dana's apartment ; and
when the clamour of amazement lulled, not a hand was raised
in the negative.

"She deserves the best husband that can be given her;" said
Carry, " and from my knowledge of Mr. Lacy's character, 1
expect he is almost good enough for her."

" He would have been my choice from among all the gentle

ALONE. 375

men of my acquaintance/' answered Mrs. Dana, as she and
Charley will not make a match."

" Ah, Jenny ! did I not say you would have to abandon that
air castle ?" said her husband. " It was the only essay at
match-making I ever caught you at."

"What is it, Laura?" inquired Carry, as her face bright-
ened suddenly.

" I was thinking how strange we should have decorated the
drawing-room with white roses, when we were not expecting
a wedding I"

The news spread like wild-fire over the plantation. " Young
Mistis was gwine to be married I" and never did tidings of a
splendid victory produce a grander jubilee. The Grants, Miss
Betsey, and Will, as sub-steward, had the programme of the
performances and actors ; but with the crowd, the Lacy and
Dana factions ran high, to the amusement of the wise. Aunt
Judy's climax was reported at the dinner-table by Miss Betsey,
who must have shared in the general delirium of pleasure, as
this is the only authentic record of her ever having spoken in
"company," unless "spoken to."

" ( Well!' says Aunt Judy says she Dany or Lacy they's
both mighty fine, pretty-spoken gentlemen. Either on 'em '11
do ; but it's been a-runnin' in my head what a mussiful Provi-
dence 'tis, hur husband happened along, jes' when the cake riz
nicer than any Fse made since ole Marster's weddin ! And
young Mis' too- poor, lone, sweet cretur ! ah, chillen ! things is
ordered wonderful ! wonderful !' "

"Don't blush, Ida ! laughing suits the occasion better," said
Carry, as every mouth spread at this apropos anecdote ; and she
did laugh merrily, as well as Mr. Lacy, who had tried to control
his risibles until he heard her.

Ellen Morris arrived that night, attended by 'her brother, and
at a feminine council, which sat until midnight, in the room of
the bride-elect, a list of attendants was drawn up Emma and
Charley, Laura and Mr. Latham, Ellen and Mr. Thornton, who,
she said, was certainly coming next day, and Miss Kingston,
vne of the neighbors, with Robert Morris.

" Aunt Judy may well say, ' things is ordered wonderful !' "

376 ALONE.

said Emma. "Who thought of this, a week ago? and here
everything is arranged, as if expressly for a marriage. ' Not a
screw loose or lacking !' "

" Ida will say it is a 'special Providence/" said Mrs. Dana,
" but Mr. Lacy and Charley had a hand in it."

" Who moved them ?" asked Ida. " Depend upon it, my
theory is irrefutable, because true. If a delusion, it is harm-
less and pleasant."

"You would make puppets of us;" said Ellen. "Chessmen
irresponsible for their motions."

" No, indeed ! We are children, obeying a Father's orders,
no matter how enigmatical ; and having done our part, letting
Him work out the answer to the puzzle. A so-called ignorant
woman once furnished the best definition of Faith I ever heard ;
' taking the Lord at his word.' It is safer to believe, than
to argue, Ellen."

Aunt Judy's aphorism was bandied about on Tuesday until
it was hacknied. Ida feared the appearance of her "Bubly
Jock;" but her prime counsellor, Will, his stalwart arms bared
to the shoulder, to turn an ice-cream churn, said confidently, that
" she nor Miss Laura should be pestered with him that evening.
I've got his written bond to stay at home, and eat the supper
that will be sent to him. Mars' Charley and Mr. Lacy's been
to see him too. They came while I was there, ( on a sociable
visit,' they said, but before they went away, he was crying like
a child they talked so beautiful !"

The bridal paraphernalia was laid in array, and Emma and
Laura tying up bouquets ; Ida directing, but not permitted to
assist.

" Ellen cannot find that arbor-vitse surely !" said Emma. " I
wish she had let me go !"

Ellen burst into the room, and flinging herself into a chair,
laughed immoderately. " What has happened ?" cried a trio of
voices.

" The wheel of luck has turned ! It is a ' wonderful ordering'
that brings Josephine Read upon this, of all days in the year I"

" Josephine I" Ida seemed to behold a ghoul. She had
invited her because propriety demanded she should not slight

ALONE. 377

the daughter of her former guardian, after living in the house
with her six years j then sho was fond of Anna Talbot, and a
separate invitation was not to be thought of. The possibility of
her coming had not entered her mind. How could she present
herself at the door of her, whom she had denounced as her
mortal foe ? Emma stood aghast, and Laura in bewilderment, at
the dismay depicted in the faces of her friends.

"I am sorry for you, Ida," continued Ellen ; " and if I were
a magician, would whisk her off to Guinea in the time it would
take me to say ' Presto !' but if you did not feel so badly, I
would delight in her spiteful rage, when she knows that she
has come to your wedding and with Mr. Lacy ! Oh ! it is
transporting I"

" Worse and worse !" said Ida, sorrowfully. " Unkind as she
has been, I would not wound her ; and she will never be per-
suaded that the insult was unpremeditated."

" ' Insult !' forsooth ! who is insulted, pray, but yourself, by
the intrusion of a woman, who has reviled and backbitten you,
until the town cried out against her evil tongue ! Oh ! the
shamelessness of a wicked gossip I"

" Where is she ?" questioned Ida.

" In the north chamber. Anna Talbot, Messrs. Thornton and
Villet came with her."

" Charley said he asked them and I am glad Anna is here
but oh ! Josephine ! and I am en dishabille ! Emma, will you
run up to them ? you are at home."

"Willingly." The kind-hearted girl emptied her lap of the
flowers.

" And explain everything," said Ida.

" Yes make all right ! Comfort yourself ;" and away
she flew.

Her face, upon her re-entrance, boded well for Ida's hopes.

" What did she say ?" inquired the latter, anxiously.

" They were unpacking their trunks. Anna was very cordial
so was Josephine for her. We concluded yesterday, to
come up,' said Anna. Pa made a point of it, and Ida's letter
was so kind and polite, that we finally determined to accept.'
32*

378 ALONE.

" ' And Mr. Thornton and M. Villet were so desirous to have
some Richmond girls here ;' said Josephine."

"Aha!" interrupted Ellen.

Emma continued. " Anna did not notice her remark. The
maid tells me Ida is to be married ;' she said, eagerly. ' What a
trick she has played us !' The queerest part of the story is, that
she is more surprised than any body else,' I answered ' They
have not been engaged a week ! You know the groom?' "

yes ! he is a noble fellow ! I am rejoiced she is to
marry him at last.' "

"And what did Josephine say to this?'' asked the inquisitive
Ellen. "You need not pretend you have told us all."

" Oh ! nothing of consequence. She spoke very carelessly,
of his being nothing extra,' and she is welcome to him,' with
no symptoms of unusual malice."

" Maybe she does not care now, having transferred her atten-
tions to Mr. Thornton. That harp will hang upon the willow,
too, or my name is not Ellen Morris !"

A note was handed Ida.

" ' Ossa on Pelion piled V from your countenance," said the
volatile bridesmaid.

Ida read it aloud. "Villet is with Thornton. Will your
plans undergo any alteration in consequence ?

"M. L."

"Josephine is the loose screw, Emma spoke of. I would
gladly add M. Villet and Anna to" my train "

Do it, and let her fret !" exclaimed Ellen.

" Oh, no !" said Emma, involuntarily.

" I cannot I" said Ida. She wrote upon the reverse of the
billet " Unless you object, the original order will be preserved."

There were- no happier beings present that evening, than the
acting host and hostess, and Carry and Arthur.

"I had resigned myself to Ida's perpetual spinsterdom," said
Carry to her schoolmates. " She rejected several good offers from
no apparent cause j and 1 imagined she had a prejudice against
matrimony."

" She was very indifferent upon the subject ;" said Anna.
" She was a mystery to many. But these deathless friendships

ALONE. 379

between ladies and gentlemen, are always suspicious, and I pre-
dicted how this one would end."

" Charley is delighted ;" said Carry.

" Is that surprising ?" asked Josephine, with a dash of irony.

" Hush ! Here they are !" said Anna.

The clergyman stepped into the centre of the room. The
fourth couple entered first.

" Only six attendants !" whispered Josephine, as Charley
appeared in the doorway. A freezing night shut her in ! through
it she saw but two forms a princely figure, his Antinous head
erect in proud happiness and the hated, injured rival, to whose
house, curiosity and vanity had tempted her the bridal veil
falling in soft wreaths about her ; his bride ! his wife ! for
emulous groups flocked around them.

" Oh ! how could you deceive me so ?" cried Anna, catching
Emma, as Charley led her up. " Mr. Dana ! we thought you
were the bridegroom ! The servant said ' Mars' Charley Dana !'
Didn't she, Josephine ?"

The frozen lips thawed into a stiff " Yes."

"Ah ! how foolish in me to forget that Molly espoused the
Dana cause !' " said Emma.

"And you believed the mistress would imitate the maid's
example, Miss Anna?" returned Charley. "Are you inconsola-
ble that I am single yet?"

" No ! overjoyed ! A change has come over my desperate
spirit, since I -discovered my mistake. Come Josephine! we
must congratulate them."

Josephine was immovable. " I never pay congratulations."

" For decency's sake !" Charley heard Anna say, angrily.
"Don't get into one of your surly humors to-night! Very
well ! stay where you are !" and she walked off with M. Villet.

" That sigh what is its interpretation ?" asked Mr. Lacy, of
Ida, as they were watching and enjoying the lively company,
which had none of the stiffness usual to weddings.

" Did I sigh ? it was in thought not in sadness, then."

" So I hoped. What was the weighty reflection ?"

"I was running over the bridals and bridal-parties I have
attended each marking some important epoch in my history.

380 ALONE.

At Mrs. Truman's Ellen's sister I met Lynn, and gained an
insight into Charley's character."

" Those were pleasant data. Carry's was next was it not ?"

His chosen wife though she was, she hung her head. He
had to bend to hear the faint accents. -"I received a letter from
you !"

"You may forget that. Go on."

" Mr. Read installed his new wife, and Lelia Arnold was her
bridesmaid. Must I forget her also ?"

" As I do yes I" an unclouded eye answering hers.

" Mrs. Morris had a party in honour of her nephew's mar-
riage; and a series of events succeeded, which occasioned me
vexation and trouble ; but I was not the principal actor."

" And the secret of another, you are not empowered to reveal.
Eight ! The next ?"

"Is this!"

" Out of three of the five you have mentioned, disaster and
sorrow have arisen. The proportion of joy in this woeful life
is variously estimated, from two-fifths to two-thirds. So we do
no violence to natural laws, in assuming this to be a white mile-
stone."

ALONE. 381

CHAPTER XXXIII.

THE stability of wedded happiness may be fairly tested in six
years ; and that number has elapsed since the wedding-eve at
Sunnybank ; a month or two more for hickory logs are
heaped upon the carved andirons, and the arrowy blaze sheds a
red glare upon a group of familiar faces : Charley, unaltered,
save that the benign lustre of his eye formerly seen only by
his best friends, has become habitual; Morton Lacy, hand-
somer in the prime of manhood than as the slender student;
and, her elbow resting on his knee, sits upon a low divan, his
wife. If Time has dealt leniently with the others, he has acted
repentantly towards her. She is younger, in face and manner,
at twenty-seven, than she was at seventeen. Her husband's
equal in many respects, and treated by him as such she has
never endured the servile subjugation of soul, which transforms
intelligent women into inane, mindless machines. In yielding to
his superior judgment, when in contrariety to hers, her will has
parted with none of its strength in the bend which proved its
pliancy. Submission is a pleasure, not a cross.

" I read to-day of a Mr. Latham, called to the street

Church, Baltimore," says Charley. " Is it Emma's husband ?"

The identical personage !" replies Ida, with pride. "A high
compliment to so young a preacher !"

" He is a man of superior talents," pronounces Mr. Lacy ;
" a divine of Ida's making."

" Of Mr. Lacy's, you mean and maybe, after all, the Sab-
bath-school is entitled to the honour of teaching him that the
healing of men's souls, not their bodies, was his vocation. Dr.
Hall and I had a pitched battle whenever we met, over our
interference with his pupil, until his trial-sermon, which was
delivered in our church. The Doctor strode across the aisle, at
the close of the services, wiping his eyes. 1 1 forgive you,
madam, and that meddling husband of yours ! My stars ! what
a parson I was near spoiling !' "

382 ALONE.

"Does Miss Laura meet your wishes, as Mrs. Latham'-

'Entirely. Mr. Lacy supports her authority, or the stig-.-ii
attached to her father's memory would weaken her influence.
She looks sad to-night. It is the third anniversary of hi.s
miserable end."

" He was burnt alive was he not 1"

" It is supposed so. He was found dead his body partly
consumed upon the hearth of his room. Probably he fell down
in a drunken fit. The blow was almost too great for Laura's
reason. Natural affection covered the remembrance of all his
faults. The children were taken by their mother's relations, to
whom he would not allow them to go, in his life-time. Laura
has continued with us."

" Still a passion for proteges ! The last time I saw Miss
Head, she inquired what your newest hobby was."

What did you reply ?" inquires Mr. Lacy.

"That ladies dismissed hobbies, when they were provided
with 'hubbies ' an execrable play upon words, which she may
have construed into an ill-natured fling at her single-blessedness."

" She ought not. On dit that Ellen Morris has supplanted
me in your bachelor friendship ; and she is not likely to marry."

" Any more than myself but Ellen Morris is not Josephine
Head. Old maids are a much-abused class of the community ;
I trust to her to redeem their character, but Josephine is a fright-
ful counterpoise. If you had remained single I"

But I didn't !" says Ida, smiling archly at her liege lord.
"And you two have only yourselves to blame."

" And Lelia Arnold I" subjoins Mr. Lacy, teasingly. There
is another enchanting spinster, Charley."

Ida is grave.

"You observe my wife nurses her jealousy yet."

"I pity her, Morton ! not for losing you, but I shall always
think that she loved Richard Copeland as sincerely as it was in
her nature to do."

"Why dismiss him, then?" queries Charley.

"She had the credit of it. In my opinion, he made hci

ALONE. 383

discard Mr. Lacy by threats or blandishments; then punished
her perfidy to him and others by violating his engagement."

" An unmanly act but a just lesson ! He is marvellously
improved by his marriage. Was it a love-match ?"

" I believe so. Alice is a lovely girl ; just the equable tem-
perament to balance his flightiness. What a contrast to his
sister I"

Has she taken the veil ?"

" Alas ! yes ! She wrote to me, at her mother's death, that
' having lost both parents, and her brother's marriage making
him independent of her cares, she should devote the remnant of
her sorrowful days to prayer and expiation of her sins if peni-
tence and mortification could atone.' "

"tf, indeed!" says Mr. Lacy, "Yet she is more sinned
against, than sinning. Her remorse, much as it misguides her,
is more creditable than her step-daughter's insensibility."

(t Poor Josephine I" sighs Tda.

" Why * poor ?' " asks Charley. You, of all people, have
least cause to be sorry for her."

" I have most, because I know her best. She is not happy
never was and never will be unless her heart is changed. I
have not forgotten the misery of a part of my sojourn with her;
yet I honestly preferred my to state hers."

"You are very unlike."

"Now, perhaps and I thought we were then; but my
mother's training was all that saved my disposition from adapt-
ing itself to Mr. Read's mould. She had no talisman. I wish
she had a hundredth part of my happiness. A woman is so
lonely without a home and friends ! They are to us I do not
say to you necessaries of life."

"She can gain them," replies Morton. "You did."

" To be taught the inadequacy of perishable things to satisfy
a soul which must live forever !" muses Ida, gazing into the
blaze. I can apply literally that text Seek ye first the king-
dom of God, and Hia righteousness ; and all these things shall
be added unto you.' "

" There are not many who can, in a temporal sense," says
Charley.

384 ALONE.

"But who may not, spiritually? Why will men make a
comfortless, doleful mystery of our cheerful, life-giving, home
Faith ? Why not think, write, talk of it ? "

And act it ?" interrupts Charley.