ISHMAEL

Or, In the Depths

by

Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth

Author of_Self-Raised_, _The Hidden Hand_, _Capitola's Peril_, _The Bride's Fate_, _The Changed Brides_, etc. 

A. L. Burt Company, PublishersNew York

 "Light was his footstep in the dance And firm his stirrup in the lists, And O! he had that merry glance That seldom lady's heart resists. "

 * * * * * *

POPULAR BOOKSBy MRS. E. D. E. N. SOUTHWORTH

In Handsome Cloth BindingPrice per volume 60 Cents

Beautiful Fiend, A

Brandon Coyle's Wife Sequel to A Skeleton in the Closet

Bride's Fate, The Sequel to The Changed Brides

Bride's Ordeal, The

Capitola's Peril Sequel to the Hidden Hand

Changed Brides, The

Cruel as the Grave

David Lindsay Sequel to Gloria

Deed Without a Name, A

Dorothy Harcourt's Secret Sequel to A Deed Without a Name

"Em"

Em's Husband Sequel to "Em"

Fair Play

For Whose Sake Sequel to Why Did He Wed Her?

For Woman's Love

Fulfilling Her Destiny Sequel to When Love Commands

Gloria

Her Love or Her life Sequel to The Bride's Ordeal

Her Mother's Secret

Hidden Hand, The

How He Won Her Sequel to Fair Play

Ishmael

Leap in the Dark, A

Lilith Sequel to the Unloved Wife

Little Nea's Engagement Sequel to Nearest and Dearest

Lost Heir, The

Lost Lady of Lone, The

Love's Bitterest Cup Sequel to Her Mother's Secret

Mysterious Marriage, The Sequel to A Leap in the Dark

Nearest and Dearest

Noble Lord, A Sequel to The Lost Heir

Self-Raised Sequel to Ishmael

Skeleton in the Closet, A

Struggle of a Soul, The Sequel to The Lost Lady of Lone

Sweet Love's Atonement

Test of Love, The Sequel to A Tortured Heart

To His Fate Sequel to Dorothy Harcourt's Secret

Tortured Heart, A Sequel to The Trail of the Serpent

Trail of the Serpent, The

Tried for Her Life Sequel to Cruel as the Grave

Unloved Wife, The

Unrequited Love, An Sequel to For Woman's Love

Victor's Triumph Sequel to A Beautiful Fiend

When Love Commands

When Shadows Die Sequel to Love's Bitterest Cup

Why Did He Wed Her?

Zenobia's Suitors Sequel to Sweet Love's Atonement

For Sale by all Booksellers or will be sent postpaid on receipt of price, A. L. BURT COMPANY, PUBLISHERS 52 Duane Street New York

 * * * * * *

PREFACE. 

This story, in book form, has been called for during several years past, but the author has reserved it until now; not only because she considersit to be her very best work, but because it is peculiarly a nationalnovel, being founded on the life and career of one of the noblest of ourcountrymen, who really lived, suffered, toiled, and triumphed in thisland; one whose inspirations of wisdom and goodness were drawn from theexamples of the heroic warriors and statesmen of the Revolution, and whohaving by his own energy risen from the deepest obscurity to the highestfame, became in himself an illustration of the elevating influence ofour republican institutions. 

"In the Depths" he was born indeed--in the very depths of poverty, misery, and humiliation. But through Heaven's blessing on hisaspirations and endeavors, he raised himself to the summit of fame. 

He was good as well as great. His goodness won the love of all who knewhim intimately. His greatness gained the homage of the world. He became, in a word, one of the brightest stars in Columbia's diadem of light. 

His identity will be recognized by those who were familiar with hisearly personal history; but for obvious reasons his real name must beveiled under a fictitious one here. 

His life is a guiding-star to the youth of every land, to show them thatthere is no depth of human misery from which they may not, by virtue, energy and perseverance, rise to earthly honors as well as to eternalglory. 

Emma D. E. N. Southworth. Prospect Cottage, Georgetown, D. C. 

CONTENTS. 

I. THE SISTERSII. LOVE AT FIRST SIGHTIII. PASSIONIV. THE FATAL DEEDV. LOVE AND FATEVI. A SECRET REVEALEDVII. MOTHER- AND DAUGHTER-IN-LAWVIII. END OF THE SECRET MARRIAGEIX. THE VICTIMX. THE RIVALSXI. THE MARTYRS OF LOVEXII. HERMAN'S STORYXIII. THE FLIGHT OF HERMANXIV. OVER NORA'S GRAVEXV. NORA'S SONXVI. THE FORSAKEN WIFEXVII. THE COUNTESS AND THE CHILDXVIII. BERENICEXIX. NOBODY'S SONXX. NEWS FROM HERMANXXI. ISHMAEL'S ADVENTUREXXII. ISHMAEL GAINS HIS FIRST VERDICTXXIII. ISHMAEL'S PROGRESSXXIV. CLAUDIA TO THE RESCUEXXV. A TURNING POINT IN ISHMAEL'S LIFEXXVI. THE FIRE AT BRUDENELL HALLXXVII. ISHMAEL'S FIRST STEP ON THE LADDERXXVIII. ISHMAEL AND CLAUDIAXXIX. YOUNG LOVEXXX. ISHMAEL AND CLAUDIAXXXI. ISHMAEL HEARS A SECRET FROM AN ENEMYXXXII. AT HIS MOTHER'S GRAVEXXXIII. LOVE AND GENIUSXXXIV. UNDER THE OLD ELM TREEXXXV. THE DREAM AND THE AWAKENINGXXXVI. DARKNESSXXXVII. THE NEW HOMEXXXVIII. ISHMAEL'S STRUGGLESXXXIX. ISHMAEL IN TANGLEWOODXL. THE LIBRARYXLI. CLAUDIAXLII. ISHMAEL AT TANGLEWOODXLIII. THE HEIRESSXLIV. CLAUDIA'S PERPLEXITIESXLV. THE INTERVIEWXLVI. NEW LIFEXLVII. RUSHY SHOREXLVIII. ONWARDXLIX. STILL ONWARDL. CLAUDIA'S CITY HOMELI. HEIRESS AND BEAUTYLII. AN EVENING AT THE PRESIDENT'SLIII. THE VISCOUNT VINCENTLIV. ISHMAEL AT THE BALLLV. A STEP HIGHERLVI. TRIAL AND TRIUMPHLVII. THE YOUNG CHAMPIONLVIII. HERMAN BRUDENELLLIX. FIRST MEETING OF FATHER AND SONLX. HERMAN AND HANNAHLXI. ENVYLXII. FOILED MALICELXIII. THE BRIDE ELECTLXIV. CLAUDIA'S WOELXV. ISHMAEL'S WOELXVI. THE MARRIAGE MORNINGLXVII. BEE'S HANDKERCHIEF

ISHMAEL

OR, "IN THE DEPTHS. "

CHAPTER I. 

THE SISTERS. 

 But if thou wilt be constant then, And faithful of thy word, I'll make thee glorious by my pen And famous by my sword. I'll serve thee in such noble ways Was never heard before; I'll crown and deck thee all with bays, And love thee evermore. 

 --_James Graham_. 

"Well, if there be any truth in the old adage, young Herman Brudenellwill have a prosperous life; for really this is a lovely day for themiddle of April--the sky is just as sunny and the air as warm as if itwere June, " said Hannah Worth, looking out from the door of her hut upona scene as beautiful as ever shone beneath the splendid radiance of anearly spring morning. 

"And what is that old adage you talk of, Hannah?" inquired her youngersister, who stood braiding the locks of her long black hair before thecracked looking-glass that hung above the rickety chest of drawers. 

"Why, la, Nora, don't you know? The adage is as old as the hills and astrue as the heavens, and it is this, that a man's twenty-first birthdayis an index to his after life:--if it be clear, he will be fortunate; ifcloudy, unfortunate. "

"Then I should say that young Mr. Brudenell's fortune will be a splendidone; for the sun is dazzling!" said Nora, as she wound the long sableplait of hair around her head in the form of a natural coronet, andsecured the end behind with--a thorn! "And, now, how do I look? Aint youproud of me?" she archly inquired, turning with "a smile of consciousbeauty born" to the inspection of her elder sister. 

That sister might well have answered in the affirmative had sheconsidered personal beauty a merit of high order; for few palaces inthis world could boast a princess so superbly beautiful as this peasantgirl that this poor hut contained. Beneath those rich sable tresses wasa high broad forehead as white as snow; slender black eyebrows so welldefined and so perfectly arched that they gave a singularly open andelevated character to the whole countenance; large dark gray eyes, fullof light, softened by long, sweeping black lashes; a small, straightnose; oval, blooming cheeks; plump, ruddy lips that, slightly parted, revealed glimpses of the little pearly teeth within; a well-turned chin;a face with this peculiarity, that when she was pleased it was her eyesthat smiled and not her lips; a face, in short, full of intelligence andfeeling that might become thought and passion. Her form was noble--beingtall, finely proportioned, and richly developed. 

Her beauty owed nothing to her toilet--her only decoration was thecoronet of her own rich black hair; her only hair pin was a thorn; herdress indeed was a masterpiece of domestic manufacture, --the cotton fromwhich it was made having been carded, spun, woven, and dyed by MissHannah's own busy hands; but as it was only a coarse blue fabric, afterall, it would not be considered highly ornamental; it was new and clean, however, and Nora was well pleased with it, as with playful impatienceshe repeated her question:

"Say! aint you proud of me now?"

"No, " replied the elder sister, with assumed gravity; "I am proud ofyour dress because it is my own handiwork, and it does me credit; but asfor you--"

"I am Nature's handiwork, and I do her credit!" interrupted Nora, withgay self-assertion. 

"I am quite ashamed of you, you are so vain!" continued Hannah, completing her sentence. 

"Oh, vain, am I? Very well, then, another time I will keep my vanity tomyself. It is quite as easy to conceal as to confess, you know; thoughit may not be quite as good for the soul, " exclaimed Nora, with merryperversity, as she danced off in search of her bonnet. 

She had not far to look; for the one poor room contained all of thesisters' earthly goods. And they were easily summed up--a bed in onecorner, a loom in another, a spinning-wheel in the third, and acorner-cupboard in the fourth; a chest of drawers sat against the wallbetween the bed and the loom, and a pine table against the opposite wallbetween the spinning-wheel and the cupboard; four wooden chairs sat justwherever they could be crowded. There was no carpet on the floor, nopaper on the walls. There was but one door and one window to the hut, and they were in front. Opposite them at the back of the room was a widefire-place, with a rude mantle shelf above it, adorned with old brasscandlesticks as bright as gold. Poor as this hut was, the mostfastidious fine lady need not have feared to sit down within it, it wasso purely clean. 

The sisters were soon ready, and after closing up their wee hut ascautiously as if it contained the wealth of India, they set forth, intheir blue cotton gowns and white cotton bonnets, to attend the grandbirthday festival of the young heir of Brudenell Hall. 

Around them spread out a fine, rolling, well-wooded country; behind themstood their own little hut upon the top of its bare hill; below them laya deep, thickly-wooded valley, beyond which rose another hill, crownedwith an elegant mansion of white free-stone. That was Brudenell Hall. 

Thus the hut and the hall perched upon opposite hills, looked each otherin the face across the wooded valley. And both belonged to the same vastplantation--the largest in the county. The morning was indeed delicious, the earth everywhere springing with young grass and early flowers; theforest budding with tender leaves; the freed brooks singing as they ran;the birds darting about here and there seeking materials to build theirnests; the heavens benignly smiling over all; the sun glorious; the airintoxicating; mere breath joy; mere life rapture! All nature singing aGloria in Excelsis! And now while the sisters saunter leisurely on, pausing now and then to admire some exquisite bit of scenery, or towatch some bird, or to look at some flower, taking their own time forpassing through the valley that lay between the hut and the hall, I musttell you who and what they were. 

Hannah and Leonora Worth were orphans, living alone together in the huton the hill and supporting themselves by spinning and weaving. 

Hannah, the eldest, was but twenty-eight years old, yet looked forty;for, having been the eldest sister, the mother-sister, of a largefamily of orphan children, all of whom had died except the youngest, Leonora, --her face wore that anxious, haggard, care-worn and prematurelyaged look peculiar to women who have the burdens of life too soon andtoo heavily laid upon them. Her black hair was even streaked here andthere with gray. But with all this there was not the least trace ofimpatience or despondency in that all-enduring face. When grave, itsexpression was that of resignation; when gay--and even she could be gayat times--its smile was as sunny as Leonora's own. Hannah had a lover aspatient as Job, or as herself, a poor fellow who had been constant toher for twelve years, and whose fate resembled her own; for he was thefather of all his orphan brothers and sisters as she had been the motherof hers. Of course, these poor lovers could not dream of marriage; butthey loved each other all the better upon that very account, perhaps. 

Lenora was ten years younger than her sister, eighteen, well grown, welldeveloped, blooming, beautiful, gay and happy as we have described her. She had not a care, or regret, or sorrow in the world. She was a bird, the hut was her nest and Hannah her mother, whose wings covered her. These sisters were very poor; not, however, as the phrase is understoodin the large cities, where, notwithstanding the many charitableinstitutions for the mitigation of poverty, scores of people perishannually from cold and hunger; but as it is understood in the rich lowercounties of Maryland, where forests filled with game and rivers swarmingwith fish afford abundance of food and fuel to even the poorest hutters, however destitute they might be of proper shelter, clothing, oreducation. 

And though these orphan sisters could not hunt or fish, they could buycheaply a plenty of game from the negroes who did. And besides this, they had a pig, a cow, and a couple of sheep that grazed freely in theneighboring fields, for no one thought of turning out an animal thatbelonged to these poor girls. In addition, they kept a few fowls andcultivated a small vegetable garden in the rear of their hut. And tokeep the chickens out of the garden was one of the principal occupationsof Nora. Their spinning-wheel and loom supplied them with the fewarticles of clothing they required, and with a little money for thepurchase of tea, sugar, and salt. Thus you see their living was good, though their dress, their house, and their schooling were so very bad. They were totally ignorant of the world beyond their own neighborhood;they could read and write, but very imperfectly; and their only book wasthe old family Bible, that might always be seen proudly displayed uponthe rickety chest of drawers. 

Notwithstanding their lowly condition, the sisters were much esteemedfor their integrity of character by their richer neighbors, who wouldhave gladly made them more comfortable had not the proud spirit ofHannah shrunk from dependence. 

They had been invited to the festival to be held at Brudenell Hall inhonor of the young heir's coming of age and entering upon his estates. 

This gentlemen, Herman Brudenell, was their landlord; and it was as histenants, and not by any means as his equals, that they had been biddento the feast. And now we will accompany them to the house of rejoicing. They were now emerging from the valley and climbing the opposite hill. Hannah walking steadily on in the calm enjoyment of nature, and Noradarting about like a young bird and caroling as she went in theeffervescence of her delight. 

CHAPTER II. 

LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT. 

 Her sweet song died, and a vague unrest And a nameless longing filled her breast. 

 --_Whittier_. 

The sisters had not seen their young landlord since he was a lad of tenyears of age, at which epoch he had been sent to Europe to receive hiseducation. He had but recently been recalled home by his widowed mother, for the purpose of entering upon his estate and celebrating his majorityin his patrimonial mansion by giving a dinner and ball in the house toall his kindred and friends, and a feast and dance in the barn to allhis tenants and laborers. 

It was said that his lady mother and his two young lady sisters, haughtyand repellent women that they were, had objected to entertaining hisdependents, but the young gentleman was resolved that they should enjoythemselves. And he had his way. 

Nora had no recollection whatever of Herman Brudenell, who had beentaken to Europe while she was still a baby; so now, her curiosity beingstimulated, she plied Hannah with a score of tiresome questions abouthim. 

"Is he tall, Hannah, dear? Is he very handsome?"

"How can I tell? I have not seen him since he was ten years old. "

"But what is his complexion--is he fair or dark? and what is the colorof his hair and eyes? Surely, you can tell that at least. "

"Yes; his complexion, as well as I can recollect it, was freckled, andhis hair sandy, and his eyes green. "

"Oh-h! the horrid fright! a man to scare bad children into goodbehavior! But then that was when he was but ten years old; he istwenty-one to-day; perhaps he is much improved. "

"Nora, our sheep have passed through here, and left some of their woolon the bushes. Look at that little bird, it has found a flake and isbearing it off in triumph to line its little nest, " said Hannah, tochange the subject. 

"Oh, I don't care about the bird; I wish you to tell me about the younggentleman!" said Nora petulantly, adding the question: "I wonder whohe'll marry?"

"Not you, my dear; so you had better not occupy your mind with him, "Hannah replied very gravely. 

Nora laughed outright. "Oh, I'm quite aware of that; and as for me, Iwould not marry a prince, if he had red hair and a freckled face; butstill one cannot help thinking of one's landlord, when one is going toattend the celebration of his birthday. "

They had now reached the top of the hill and come upon a full view ofthe house and grounds. 

The house, as I said, was a very elegant edifice of white free-stone; itwas two stories in height, and had airy piazzas running the whole lengthof the front, both above and below; a stately portico occupied thecenter of the lower piazza, having on each side of it the tall windowsof the drawing-rooms. This portico and all these windows were now wideopen, mutely proclaiming welcome to all comers. The beautifully laid outgrounds were studded here and there with tents pitched under the shadetrees, for the accommodation of the out-door guest, who were nowassembling rapidly. 

But the more honored guests of the house had not yet begun to arrive. 

And none of the family were as yet visible. 

On reaching the premises the sisters were really embarrassed, notknowing where to go, and finding no one to direct them. 

At length a strange figure appeared upon the scene--a dwarfish mulatto, with a large head, bushy hair, and having the broad forehead and highnose of the European, with the thick lips and heavy jaws of the African;with an ashen gray complexion, and a penetrating, keen and slyexpression of the eyes. With this strange combination of features he hadalso the European intellect with the African utterance. He was a verygifted original, whose singularities of genius and character will revealthemselves in the course of this history, and he was also one of thosefavored old family domestics whose power in the house was second only tothat of the master, and whose will was law to all his fellow servants;he had just completed his fiftieth year, and his name was Jovial. 

And he now approached the sisters, saying:

"Mornin', Miss Hannah--mornin', Miss Nora. Come to see de show? De youngheir hab a fool for his master for de fust time to-day. "

"We have come to the birthday celebration; but we do not know where weought to go--whether to the house or the tents, " said Hannah. 

The man tucked his tongue into his cheek and squinted at the sisters, muttering to himself:

"I should like to see de mist'ess' face, ef you two was to presentyourselves at de house!"

Then, speaking aloud, he said:

"De house be for de quality, an' de tents for de colored gemmen andladies; an' de barn for de laborin' classes ob de whites. Shall I hab dehonor to denounce you to de barn?"

"I thank you, yes, since it is there we are expected to go, " saidHannah. 

Jovial led the way to an immense barn that had been cleaned out anddecorated for the occasion. The vast room was adorned with festoons ofevergreens and paper flowers. At the upper end was hung the arms of theBrudenells. Benches were placed along the walls for the accommodation ofthose who might wish to sit. The floor was chalked for the dancers. 

"Dere, young women, dere you is, " said Jovial loftily, as he introducedthe sisters into this room, and retired. 

There were some thirty-five or forty persons present, including men, women, and children, but no one that was known to the sisters. Theytherefore took seats in a retired corner, from which they watched thecompany. 

"How many people there are! Where could they all have come from?"inquired Nora. 

"I do not know. From a distance, I suppose. People will come a long wayto a feast like this. And you know that not only were the tenants andlaborers invited, but they were asked to bring all their friends andrelations as well!" said Hannah. 

"And they seemed to have improved the opportunity, " added Nora. 

"Hush, my dear; I do believe here come Mr. Brudenell and the ladies, "said Hannah. 

And even as she spoke the great doors of the barn were thrown open, andthe young landlord and his family entered. 

First came Mr. Brudenell, a young gentleman of medium height, andelegantly rather than strongly built; his features were regular anddelicate; his complexion fair and clear; his hair of a pale, soft, golden tint; and in contrast to all this, his eyes were of a deep, dark, burning brown, full of fire, passion, and fascination. There was nodoubt about it--he was beautiful! I know that is a strange term to applyto a man, but it is the only true and comprehensive one to characterizethe personal appearance of Herman Brudenell. He was attired in a neatblack dress suit, without ornaments of any kind; without even abreastpin or a watch chain. 

Upon his arm leaned his mother, a tall, fair woman with light hair, light blue eyes, high aquiline features, and a haughty air. She wore arich gray moire antique, and a fine lace cap. 

Behind them came the two young lady sisters, so like their mother thatno one could have mistaken them. They wore white muslin dresses, sashesof blue ribbon, and wreaths of blue harebells. They advanced with smilesintended to be gracious, but which were only condescending. 

The eyes of all the people in the barn were fixed upon this party, except those of Nora Worth, which were riveted upon the young heir. 

And this was destiny!

There was nothing unmaidenly in her regard. She looked upon him as apeasant girl might look upon a passing prince--as something grand, glorious, sunlike, and immeasurably above her sphere; but not as ahuman being, not as a young man precisely like other young men. 

While thus, with fresh lips glowingly apart, and blushing cheeks, andeyes full of innocent admiration, she gazed upon him, he suddenly turnedaround, and their eyes met full. He smiled sweetly, bowed lowly, andturned slowly away. And she, with childlike delight, seized her sister'sarm and exclaimed:

"Oh, Hannah, the young heir bowed to me, he did indeed!"

"He could do no less, since you looked at him so hard, " replied thesister gravely. 

"But to me, Hannah, to me--just think of it! No one ever bowed to mebefore, not even the negroes! and to think of him--Mr. Brudenell--bowingto me--me!"

"I tell you he could do no less; he caught you looking at him; to havecontinued staring you in the face would have been rude; to have turnedabruptly away would have been equally so; gentlemen are never guilty ofrudeness, and Mr. Brudenell is a gentleman; therefore he bowed to you, as I believe he would have bowed to a colored girl even. "

"Oh, but he smiled! he smiled so warmly and brightly, just for all theworld like the sun shining out, and as if, as if--"

"As if what, you little goose?"

"Well, then, as if he was pleased. "

"It was because he was amused; he was laughing at you, you silly child!"

"Do you think so?" asked Nora, with a sudden change of tone from gay tograve. 

"I am quite sure of it, dear, " replied the elder sister, speaking herreal opinion. 

"Laughing at me, " repeated Nora to herself, and she fell into thought. 

Meanwhile, with a nod to one a smile to another and a word to a third, the young heir and his party passed down the whole length of the room, and retired through an upper door. As soon as they were gone the negrofiddlers, six in number, led by Jovial, entered, took their seats, tunedtheir instruments, and struck up a lively reel. 

There was an, immediate stir; the rustic beaus sought their belles, andsets were quickly formed. 

A long, lanky, stooping young man, with a pale, care-worn face andgrayish hair, and dressed in a homespun jacket and trousers, came up tothe sisters. 

"Dance, Hannah?" he inquired. 

"No, thank you, Reuben; take Nora out--she would like to. "

"Dance, Nora?" said Reuben Gray, turning obediently to the youngersister. 

"Set you up with it, after asking Hannah first, right before my veryeyes. I'm not a-going to take anybody's cast-offs, Mr. Reuben!"

"I hope you are not angry with, me for that, Nora? It was natural Ishould prefer to dance with your sister. I belong to her like, you know. Don't be mad with me, " said Reuben meekly. 

"Nonsense, Rue! you know I was joking. Make Hannah dance; it will do hergood; she mopes too much, " laughed Nora. 

"Do, Hannah, do, dear; you know I can't enjoy myself otherways, " saidthe docile fellow. 

"And it is little enjoyment you have in this world, poor soul!" saidHannah Worth, as she rose and placed her hand in his. 

"Ah, but I have a great deal, Hannah, dear, when I'm along o' you, " hewhispered gallantly, as he led her off to join the dancers. 

And they were soon seen tritting, whirling, heying, and selling with thebest of them--forgetting in the contagious merriment of the music andmotion all their cares. 

Nora was besieged with admirers, who solicited her hand for the dance. But to one and all she returned a negative. She was tired with her longwalk, and would not dance, at least not this set; she preferred to sitstill and watch the others. So at last she was left to her chosenoccupation. She had sat thus but a few moments, her eyes lovinglyfollowing the flying forms of Reuben and Hannah through the mazes of thedance, her heart rejoicing in their joy, when a soft voice murmured ather ear. 

"Sitting quite alone, Nora? How is that? The young men have not losttheir wits, I hope?"

She started, looked up, and with a vivid blush recognized her younglandlord. He was bending over her with the same sweet ingenuous smilethat had greeted her when their eyes first met that morning. She droopedthe long, dark lashes over her eyes until they swept her carmine cheeks, but she did not answer. 

"I have just deposited my mother and sisters in their drawing-room, andI have returned to look at the dancers. May I take this seat left vacantby your sister?" he asked. 

"Certainly you may, sir, " she faltered forth, trembling with, a vaguedelight. 

"How much they enjoy themselves--do they not?" he asked, as he took theseat and looked upon the dancers with a benevolent delight thatirradiated his fair, youthful countenance. 

"Oh, indeed they do, sir, " said Nora, unconsciously speaking more fromher own personal experience of present happiness than from herobservation of others. 

I wish I could arrive at my majority every few weeks, or else have someother good excuse for giving a great feast. I do so love to see peoplehappy, Nora. It is the greatest pleasure I have in the world. "

"Yet you must have a great many other pleasures, sir; all wealthy peoplemust, " said Nora, gaining courage to converse with one so amiable as shefound her young landlord. 

"Yes, I have many others; but the greatest of all is the happiness ofmaking others happy. But why are you not among these dancers, Nora?"

"I was tired with my long walk up and down hill and dale. So I would notjoin them this set. "

"Are you engaged for the next?"

"No, sir. "

"Then be my partner for it, will you?"

"Oh, sir!" And the girl's truthful face flashed with surprise anddelight. 

"Will you dance with me, then, for the next set?"

"Yes, sir, please. "

"Thank you, Nora. But now tell me, did you recollect me as well as Iremembered you?"

"No, sir. "

"But that is strange; for I knew you again the instant I saw you. "

"But, sir, you know I was but a baby when you went away?"

"That is true. "

"But how, then, did you know me again?" she wonderingly inquired. 

"Easily enough. Though you have grown up into such a fine young woman, your face has not changed its character, Nora. You have the same broad, fair forehead and arched brows; the same dark gray eyes and long lashes;the same delicate nose and budding mouth; and the same peculiar way ofsmiling only with your eyes; in a word--but pardon me, Nora, I forgotmyself in speaking to you so plainly. Here is a new set forming already. Your sister and her partner are going to dance together again; shall wejoin them?" he suddenly inquired, upon seeing that his direct praise, inwhich he had spoken in ingenuous frankness, had brought the blushesagain to Nora's cheeks. 

She arose and gave him her hand, and he led her forth to the head of theset that was now forming, where she stood with downcast and blushingface, admired by all the men, and envied by all the women that werepresent. 

This was not the only time he danced with her. He was cordial to all hisguests, but he devoted himself to Nora. This exclusive attention of theyoung heir to the poor maiden gave anxiety to her sister and offense toall the other women. 

"No good will come of it, " said one. 

"No good ever does come of a rich young man paying attention to a poorgirl, " added another. 

"He is making a perfect fool of himself, " said a third indignantly. 

"He is making a perfect fool of her, you had better say, " amended afourth, more malignant than the rest. 

"Hannah, I don't like it! I'm a sort of elder brother-in-law to her, youknow, and I don't like it. Just see how he looks at her, Hannah! Why, ifI was to melt down my heart and pour it all into my face, I couldn'tlook at you that-a-way, Hannah, true as I love you. Why, he's justeating of her up with his eyes, and as for her, she looks as if it waspleasant to be swallowed by him!" said honest Reuben Gray, as he watchedthe ill-matched young pair as they sat absorbed in each other's societyin a remote corner of the barn. 

"Nor do I like it, Reuben, " sighed Hannah. 

"I've a great mind to interfere! I've a right to! I'm her brother-in-lawto be. "

"No, do not, Reuben; it would do more harm than good; it would make herand everybody else think more seriously of these attentions than theydeserve. It is only for to-night, you know. After this, they willscarcely ever meet to speak to each other again. "

"As you please, Hannah, you are wiser than I am; but still, dear, I mustsay that a great deal of harm may be done in a day. Remember, dear, that(though I don't call it harm, but the greatest blessing of my life) itwas at a corn-shucking, where we met for the first time, that you and Ifell in love long of each other, and have we ever fell out of it yet?No, Hannah, nor never will. But as you and I are both poor, andfaithful, and patient, and broken in like to bear things cheerful, noharm has come of our falling in love at that corn-shucking. But now, s'pose them there children fall in love long of each other by lookinginto each other's pretty eyes--who's to hinder it? And that will be theend of it? He can't marry her; that's impossible; a man of his rank anda girl of hers! his mother and sisters would never let him! and if theywould, his own pride wouldn't! And so he'd go away and try to forgether, and she'd stop home and break her heart. Hannah, love is like afire, easy to put out in the beginning, unpossible at the end. You justbetter let me go and heave a bucket of water on to that there love whileit is a-kindling and before the blaze breaks out. "

"Go then, good Reuben, and tell Nora that I am going home and wish herto come to me at once. "

Reuben arose to obey, but was interrupted by the appearance of a negrofootman from the house, who came up to him and said:

"Mr. Reuben, de mistess say will you say to de young marster how degemmen an' ladies is all arrive, an' de dinner will be sarve in tenminutes, an' how she 'sires his presence at de house immediate. "

"Certainly, John! This is better, Hannah, than my interference wouldhave been, " said Reuben Gray, as he hurried off to execute his mission. 

So completely absorbed in each other's conversation were the young pairthat they did not observe Reuben's approach until he stood before them, and, touching his forehead, said respectfully:

"Sir, Madam Brudenell has sent word as the vis'ters be all arrived atthe house, and the dinner will be ready in ten minutes, so she wishesyou, if you please, to come directly. "

"So late!" exclaimed the young man, looking at his watch, and startingup, "how time flies in some society! Nora, I will conduct you to yoursister, and then go and welcome our guests at the house; although I hada great deal rather stay where I am, " he added, in a whisper. 

"If you please, sir, I can take her to Hannah, " suggested Reuben. 

But without paying any attention to this friendly offer, the young mangave his hand to the maiden and led her down the whole length of thebarn, followed by Reuben, and also by the envious eyes of all theassembly. 

"Here she is, Hannah. I have brought her back to you quite safe, noteven weary with dancing. I hope I have helped her to enjoy herself, "said the young heir gayly, as he deposited the rustic beauty by the sideof her sister. 

"You are very kind, sir, " said Hannah coldly. 

"Ah, you there, Reuben! Be sure you take good care of this little girl, and see that she has plenty of pleasant partners, " said the younggentleman, on seeing Gray behind. 

"Be sure I shall take care of her, sir, as if she was my sister, as Ihope some day she may be, " replied the man. 

"And be careful that she gets a good place at the supper-table--therewill be a rush, you know. "

"I shall see to that, sir. "

"Good evening, Hannah; good evening, Nora, " said the young heir, smilingand bowing as he withdrew from the sisters. 

Nora sighed; it might have been from fatigue. Several country beausapproached, eagerly contending, now that the coast was clear, for thehonor of the beauty's hand in the dance. But Nora refused one and all. She should dance no more this evening, she said. Supper came on, andReuben, with one sister on each arm, led them out to the great tentwhere it was spread. There was a rush. The room was full and the tablewas crowded; but Reuben made good places for the sisters, and stoodbehind their chairs to wait on them. Hannah, like a happy, working, practical young woman in good health, who had earned an appetite, didample justice to the luxuries placed before them. Nora ate next tonothing. In vain Hannah and Reuben offered everything to her in turn;she would take nothing. She was not hungry, she said; she was tired andwanted to go home. 

"But wouldn't you rather stay and see the fireworks, Nora?" inquiredReuben Gray, as they arose from the table to give place to someone else. 

"I don't know. Will--will Mr. --I mean Mrs. Brudenell and the youngladies come out to see them, do you think?"

"No, certainly, they will not; these delicate creatures would neverstand outside in the night air for that purpose. "

"I--I don't think I care about stopping to see the fireworks, Reuben, "said Nora. 

"But I tell you what, John said how the young heir, the old madam, theyoung ladies, and the quality folks was all a-going to see the fireworksfrom the upper piazza. They have got all the red-cushioned settees andarm-chairs put out there for them to sit on. "

"Reuben, I--I think I will stop and see the fireworks; that is, ifHannah is willing, " said Nora musingly. 

And so it was settled. 

The rustics, after having demolished the whole of the plentiful supper, leaving scarcely a bone or a crust behind them, rushed out in a body, all the worse for a cask of old rye whisky that had been broached, andbegan to search for eligible stands from which to witness the exhibitionof the evening. 

Reuben conducted the sisters to a high knoll at some distance from thedisorderly crowd, but from which they could command a fine view of thefireworks, which were to be let off in the lawn that lay below theirstandpoint and between them and the front of the dwelling-house. Herethey sat as the evening closed in. As soon as it was quite dark thewhole front of the mansion-house suddenly blazed forth in a blindingillumination. There were stars, wheels, festoons, and leaves, all infire. In the center burned a rich transparency, exhibiting the arms ofthe Brudenells. 

During this illumination none of the family appeared in front, as theirforms must have obscured a portion of the lights. It lasted some ten orfifteen minutes, and then suddenly went out, and everything was againdark as midnight. Suddenly from the center of the lawn streamed up arocket, lighting up with a lurid fire all the scene--the mansion-housewith the family and their more honored guests now seated upon the upperpiazza, the crowds of men, women, and children, white, black, and mixed, that stood with upturned faces in the lawn, the distant knoll on whichwere grouped the sisters and their protector, the more distant forestsand the tops of remote hills, which all glowed by night in this redglare. This seeming conflagration lasted a minute, and then all wasdarkness again. This rocket was but the signal for the commencement ofthe fireworks on the lawn. Another and another, each more brilliantthan the last, succeeded. There were stars, wheels, serpents, griffins, dragons, all flashing forth from the darkness in living fire, fillingthe rustic spectators with admiration, wonder, and terror, and then assuddenly disappearing as if swallowed up in the night from which theyhad sprung. One instant the whole scene was lighted up as by a generalconflagration, the next it was hidden in darkness deep as midnight. Thesisters, no more than their fellow-rustics, had never witnessed themarvel of fireworks, so now they gazed from their distant standpoint onthe knoll with interest bordering upon consternation. 

"Don't you think they're dangerous, Reuben?" inquired Hannah. 

"No, dear; else such a larned gentleman as Mr. Brudenell, and such aprudent lady as the old madam, would never allow them, " answered Gray. 

Nora did not speak; she was absorbed not only by the fireworksthemselves, but by the group on the balcony that each illuminationrevealed; or, to be exact, by one face in that group--the face of HermanBrudenell. 

At length the exhibition closed with one grand tableau in many coloredfire, displaying the family group of Brudenell, surmounted by theircrest, arms, and supporters, all encircled by wreaths of flowers. Thissplendid transparency illumined the whole scene with dazzling light. Itwas welcomed by deafening huzzas from the crowd. When the noise hadsomewhat subsided, Reuben Gray, gazing with the sisters from their knollupon all this glory, touched Nora upon the shoulder and said:

"Look!"

"I am looking, " she said. 

"What do you see?"

"The fireworks, of course. "

"And what beyond them?"

"The great house--Brudenell Hall. "

"And there?"

"The party on the upper piazza. "

"With Mr. Brudenell in the midst?"

"Yes. "

"Now, then, observe! You see him, but it is across the glare of thefireworks! There is fire between you and him, girl--a gulf of fire! Seethat you do not dream either he or you can pass it! For either to do sowould be to sink one, and that is yourself, in burning fire--inconsuming shame! Oh, Nora, beware!"

He had spoken thus! he, the poor unlettered man who had scarcely everopened his mouth before without a grievous assault upon good English! hehad breathed these words of eloquent warning, as if by directinspiration, as though his lips, like those of the prophet of old, hadbeen touched by the living coal from Heaven. His solemn words awedHannah, who understood them by sympathy, and frightened Nora, who didnot understand them at all. The last rays of the finale were dying out, and with their expiring light the party on the upper piazza were seen tobow to the rustic assembly on the lawn, and then to withdraw into thehouse. 

And thus ended the fête day of the young heir of Brudenell Hall. 

The guests began rapidly to disperse. 

Reuben Gray escorted the sisters home, talking with Hannah all the way, not upon the splendors of the festival--a topic he seemed willing tohave forgotten, but upon crops, stock, wages, and the price of tea andsugar. This did not prevent Nora from dreaming on the interdictedsubject; on the contrary, it left her all the more opportunity to do so, until they all three reached the door of the hill hut, where Reuben Graybade them good-night. 

CHAPTER III. 

PASSION. 

 If we are nature's, this is ours--this thorn Doth to our rose of youth rightly belong; It is the show and seal of nature's truth When love's strong passion is impressed in youth. 

 --_Shakspere_. 

What a contrast! the interior of that poor hut to all the splendors theyhad left! The sisters both were tired, and quickly undressed and went tobed, but not at once to sleep. 

Hannah had the bad habit of laying awake at night, studying how to makethe two ends of her income and her outlay meet at the close of the year, just as if loss of rest ever helped on the solution to that problem!

Nora, for her part, lay awake in a disturbance of her whole nature, which she could neither understand nor subdue! Nora had never read apoem, a novel, or a play in her life; she had no knowledge of the world;and no instructress but her old maiden sister. Therefore Nora knew nomore of love than does the novice who has never left her convent! Shecould not comprehend the reason why after meeting with Herman Brudenellshe had taken such a disgust at the rustic beaus who had hithertopleased her; nor yet why her whole soul was so very strangely troubled;why at once she was so happy and so miserable; and, above all, why shecould not speak of these things to her sister Hannah. She tossed aboutin feverish excitement. 

"What in the world is the matter with you, Nora? You are as restless asa kitten; what ails you?" asked Hannah. 

"Nothing, " was the answer. 

Now everyone who has looked long upon life knows that of all themaladies, mental or physical, that afflict human nature, "nothing" isthe most common, the most dangerous, and the most incurable! When yousee a person preoccupied, downcast, despondent, and ask him, "What isthe matter?" and he answers, "Nothing, " be sure that it is somethinggreat, unutterable, or fatal! Hannah Worth knew this by instinct, and soshe answered:

"Nonsense, Nora! I know there is something that keeps you awake; what isit now?"

"Really--and indeed it is nothing serious; only I am thinking over whatwe have seen to-day!"

"Oh! but try to go to sleep now, my dear, " said Hannah, as if satisfied. 

"I can't; but, Hannah, I say, are you and Reuben Gray engaged?"

"Yes, dear. "

"How long have you been engaged?"

"For more than twelve years, dear. "

"My--good--gracious--me--alive! Twelve years! Why on earth don't you getmarried, Hannah?"

"He cannot afford it, dear; it takes everything he can rake and scrapeto keep his mother and his little brothers and sisters, and even withall that they often want. "

"Well, then, why don't he let you off of your promise?"

"Nora!--what! why we would no sooner think of breaking with each otherthan if we had been married, instead of being engaged all these twelveyears!"

"Well, then, when do you expect to be married?"

"I do not know, dear; when his sisters and brothers are all grown up andoff his hands, I suppose. "

"And that won't be for the next ten years--even if then! Hannah, youwill be an elderly woman, and he an old man, before that!"

"Yes, dear, I know that; but we must be patient; for everyone in thisworld has something to bear, and we must accept our share. And even ifit should be in our old age that Reuben and myself come together, whatof that? We shall have all eternity before us to live together; for, Nora, dear, I look upon myself as his promised wife for time andeternity. Therefore, you see there is no such thing possible as for meto break with Reuben. We belong to each other forever, and the Lordhimself knows it. And now, dear, be quiet and try to sleep; for we mustrise early to-morrow to make up by industry for the time lost to-day;so, once more, good-night, dear. "

Nora responded to this good-night, and turned her head to the wall--notto sleep, but to muse on those fiery, dark-brown eyes that had lookedsuch mysterious meanings into hers, and that thrilling deep-toned voicethat had breathed such sweet praise in her ears. And so musing, Norafell asleep, and her reverie passed into dreams. 

Early the next morning the sisters were up. The weather had changed withthe usual abruptness of our capricious climate. The day before had beenlike June. This day was like January. A dark-gray sky overhead, withblack clouds driven by an easterly wind scudding across it, andthreatening a rain storm. 

The sisters hurried through their morning work, got their frugalbreakfast over, put their room in order, and sat down to their dailyoccupation--Hannah before her loom, Nora beside her spinning-wheel. Theclatter of the loom, the whir of the wheel, admitted of no conversationbetween the workers; so Hannah worked, as usual, in perfect silence, andNora, who ever before sung to the sound of her humming wheel, now musedinstead. The wind rose in occasional gusts, shaking the little hut inits exposed position on the hill. 

"How different from yesterday, " sighed Nora, at length. 

"Yes, dear; but such is life, " said Hannah. And there the conversationended, and only the clatter of the loom and the whir of the wheel washeard again, the sisters working on in silence. But hark! Why has thewheel suddenly stopped and the heart of Nora started to rapid beating?

A step came crashing through the crisp frost, and a hand was on thedoor-latch. 

"It is Mr. Brudenell! What can he want here?" exclaimed Hannah, in atone of impatience, as she arose and opened the door. 

The fresh, smiling, genial face of the young man met her there. Hiskind, cordial, cheery voice addressed her: "Good morning, Hannah! I havebeen down to the bay this morning, you see, bleak as it is, and the fishbite well! See this fine rock fish! will you accept it from me? And oh, will you let me come in and thaw out my half-frozen fingers by yourfire? or will you keep me standing out here in the cold?" he added, smiling. 

"Walk in, sir, " said Hannah, inhospitably enough, as she made way forhim to enter. 

He came in, wearing his picturesque fisherman's dress, carrying hisfishing-rod over his right shoulder, and holding in his left hand thefine rock fish of which he had spoken. His eyes searched for and foundNora, whose face was covered with the deepest blushes. 

"Good morning, Nora! I hope you enjoyed yourself yesterday. Did theytake care of you after I left?" he inquired, going up to her. 

"Yes, thank you, sir. "

"Mr. Brudenell, will you take this chair?" said Hannah, placing onedirectly before the fire, and pointing to it without giving him time tospeak another word to Nora. 

"Thank you, yes, Hannah; and will you relieve me of this fish?"

"No, thank you, sir; I think you had better take it up to the madam, "said Hannah bluntly. 

"What! carry this all the way from here to Brudenell, after bringing itfrom the bay? Whatever are you thinking of, Hannah?" laughed the youngman, as he stepped outside for a moment and hung the fish on a nail inthe wall. "There it is, Hannah, " he said, returning and taking his seatat the fire; "you can use it or throw it away, as you like. "

Hannah made no reply to this; she did not wish to encourage him eitherto talk or to prolong his stay. Her very expression of countenance wascold and repellent almost to rudeness. Nora saw this and sympathizedwith him, and blamed her sister. 

"To think, " she said to herself, "that he was so good to us when we wentto see him; and Hannah is so rude to him, now he has come to see us! Itis a shame! And see how well he bears it all, too, sitting there warminghis poor white hands. "

In fact, the good humor of the young man was imperturbable. He satthere, as Nora observed, smiling and spreading his hands out over thegenial blaze and seeking to talk amicably with Hannah, and feelingcompensated for all the rebuffs he received from the elder sisterwhenever he encountered a compassionate glance from the younger, although at the meeting of their eyes her glance was instantly withdrawnand succeeded by fiery blushes. He stayed as long as he had the leastexcuse for doing so, and then arose to take his leave, half smiling atHannah's inhospitable surliness and his own perseverance underdifficulties. He went up to Nora to bid her good-by. He took her hand, and as he gently pressed it he looked into her eyes; but hers fellbeneath his gaze; and with a simple "Good-day, Nora, " he turned away. 

Hannah stood holding the cottage door wide open for his exit. 

"Good morning, Hannah, " he said smilingly, as he passed out. 

She stepped after him, saying:

"Mr. Brudenell, sir, I must beg you not to come so far out of your wayagain to bring us a fish. We thank you; but we could not accept it. Thisalso I must request you to take away. " And detaching the rock fish fromthe nail where it hung, she put it in his hands. 

He laughed good-humoredly as he took it, and without further answer thana low bow walked swiftly down the hill. 

Hannah re-entered the hut and found herself in the midst of a tempest ina tea-pot. 

Nora had a fiery temper of her own, and now it blazed out upon hersister--her beautiful face was stormy with grief and indignation as sheexclaimed:

"Oh, Hannah! how could you act so shamefully? To think that yesterdayyou and I ate and drank and feasted and danced all day at his place, andreceived so much kindness and attention from him besides, and to-day youwould scarcely let him sit down and warm his feet in ours! You treatedhim worse than a dog, you did, Hannah. And he felt it, too. I saw hedid, though he was too much of a gentleman to show it! And as for me, Icould have died from mortification!"

"My child, " answered Hannah gravely, "however badly you or he might havefelt, believe me, I felt the worse of the three, to be obliged to takethe course I did. "

"He will never come here again, never!" sobbed Nora, scarcely heedingthe reply of her sister. 

"I hope to Heaven he never may!" said Hannah, as she resumed her seat ather loom and drove the shuttle "fast and furious" from side to side ofher cloth. 

But he did come again. Despite the predictions of Nora and the prayersof Hannah and the inclemency of the weather. 

The next day was a tempestuous one, with rain, snow, hail, and sleet alldriven before a keen northeast wind, and the sisters, with a greatroaring fire in the fireplace between them, were seated the one at herloom and the other at her spinning-wheel, when there came a rap at thedoor, and before anyone could possibly have had time to go to it, it waspushed open, and Herman Brudenell, covered with snow and sleet, rushedquickly in. 

"For Heaven's sake, my dear Hannah, give me shelter from the storm! Icouldn't wait for ceremony, you see! I had to rush right in afterknocking! pardon me! Was ever such a climate as this of ours! What a dayfor the seventeenth of April! It ought to be bottled up and sent abroadas a curiosity!" he exclaimed, all in a breath, as he unceremoniouslytook off his cloak and shook it and threw it over a chair. 

"Mr. Brudenell! You here again! What could have brought you out on sucha day?" cried Hannah, starting up from her loom in extreme surprise. 

"The spirit of restlessness, Hannah! It is so dull up there, andparticularly on a dull day! How do you do, Nora? Blooming as a rose, eh?" he said, suddenly breaking off and going to shake hands with theblushing girl. 

"Never mind Nora's roses, Mr. Brudenell; attend to me; I ask did youexpect to find it any livelier here in this poor hut than in your ownprincely halls?" said Hannah, as she placed a chair before the fire forhis accommodation. 

"A great deal livelier, Hannah, " he replied, with boyish frankness, ashe took his seat and spread out his hands before the cheerful blaze. "Noend to the livelier. Why, Hannah, it is always lively where there'snature, and always dull where there's not! Up yonder now there's toomuch art; high art indeed--but still art! From my mother and sisters allnature seems to have been educated, refined, and polished away. Therewe all sat this morning in the parlor, the young ladies punching holesin pieces of muslin, to sew them up again, and calling the workembroidery; and there was my mother, actually working a blue lamb on redgrass, and calling her employment worsted work. There was no talk but ofpatterns, no fire but what was shut up close in a horrid radiator. Really, out of doors was more inviting than in. I thought I would justthrow on my cloak and walk over here to see how you were getting alongthis cold weather, and what do I find here? A great open blazingwoodfire--warm, fragrant, and cheerful as only such a fire can be! and ahumming wheel and a dancing loom, two cheerful girls looking bright astwo chirping birds in their nest! This _is_ like a nest! and it is worththe walk to find it. You'll not turn me out for an hour or so, Hannah?"

There was scarcely any such thing as resisting his gay, frank, boyishappeal; yet Hannah answered coldly:

"Certainly not, Mr. Brudenell, though I fancy you might have found moreattractive company elsewhere. There can be little amusement for you insitting there and listening to the flying shuttle or the whirling wheel, for hours together, pleasant as you might have first thought them. "

"Yes, but it will! I shall hear music in the loom and wheel, and seepictures in the fire, " said the young man, settling himself, comfortable. 

Hannah drove her shuttle back and forth with a vigor that seemed to owesomething to temper. 

Herman heard no music and saw no pictures; his whole nature was absorbedin the one delightful feeling of being near Nora, only being near her, that was sufficient for the present to make him happy. To talk to herwas impossible, even if he had greatly desired to do so; for the musicof which he had spoken made too much noise. He stayed as long as hepossibly could, and then reluctantly arose to leave. He shook hands withHannah first, reserving the dear delight of pressing Nora's hand for thelast. 

The next day the weather changed again; it was fine; and HermanBrudenell, as usual, presented himself at the hut; his excuse this timebeing that he wished to inquire whether the sisters would not like tohave some repairs put upon the house--a new roof, another door andwindow, or even a new room added; if so, his carpenter was even now atBrudenell Hall, attending to some improvements there, and as soon as hewas done he should be sent to the hut. 

But no; Hannah wanted no repairs whatever. The hut was large enough forher and her sister, only too small to entertain visitors. So with thispointed home-thrust from Hannah, and a glance that at once healed thewound from Nora, he was forced to take his departure. 

The next day he called again; he had, unluckily, left his gloves behindhim during his preceding visit. 

They were very nearly flung at his head by the thoroughly exasperatedHannah. But again he was made happy by a glance from Nora. 

And, in short, almost every day he found some excuse for coming to thecottage, overlooking all Hannah's rude rebuffs with the mostimperturbable good humor. At all these visits Hannah was present. Shenever left the house for an instant, even when upon one occasion she sawthe cows in her garden, eating up all the young peas and beans. She letthe garden be utterly destroyed rather than leave Nora to hear words oflove that for her could mean nothing but misery. This went on for someweeks, when Hannah was driven to decisive measures by an unexpectedevent. Early one morning Hannah went to a village called "Baymouth, " toprocure coffee, tea, and sugar. She went there, did her errand, andreturned to the hut as quickly as she could possibly could. As shesuddenly opened the door she was struck with consternation by seeing thewheel idle and Nora and Herman seated close together, conversing in alow, confidential tone. They started up on seeing her, confusion ontheir faces. 

Hannah was thoroughly self-possessed. Putting her parcels in Nora'shands, she said:

"Empty these in their boxes, dear, while I speak to Mr. Brudenell. " Thenturning to the young man, she said: "Sir, your mother, I believe, hasasked to see me about some cloth she wishes to have woven. I am goingover to her now; will you go with me?"

"Certainly, Hannah, " replied Mr. Brudenell, seizing his hat in nervoustrepidation, and forgetting or not venturing to bid good-by to Nora. 

When they had got a little way from the hut, Hannah said:

"Mr. Brudenell, why do you come to our poor little house so often?"

The question, though it was expected, was perplexing. 

"Why do I come, Hannah? Why, because I like to. "

"Because you like to! Quite a sufficient reason for a gentleman torender for his actions, I suppose you think. But, now, another question:'What are your intentions towards my sister?'"

"My intentions!" repeated the young man, in a thunderstruck manner. "What in the world do you mean, Hannah?"

"I mean to remind you that you have been visiting Nora for the last twomonths, and that to-day, when I entered the house, I found you sittingtogether as lovers sit; looking at each other as lovers look; andspeaking in the low tones that lovers use; and when I reached you, youstarted in confusion--as lovers do when discovered at their love-making. Now I repeat my question, 'What are your intentions towards NoraWorth?'"

Herman Brudenell was blushing now, if he had never blushed before; hisvery brow was crimson. Hannah had to reiterate her question before hishesitating tongue could answer it. 

"My intentions, Hannah? Nothing wrong, I do swear to you! Heaven knows, I mean no harm. "

"I believe that, Mr. Brudenell! I have always believed it, else be surethat I should have found means to compel your absence. But though youmight have meant no harm, did you mean any good, Mr. Brudenell?"

"Hannah, I fear that I meant nothing but to enjoy the great pleasure Iderived from--from--Nora's society, and--"

"Stop there, Mr. Brudenell; do not add--mine; for that would be aninsincerity unworthy of you! Of me you did not think, except as amarplot! You say you came for the great pleasure you enjoyed in Nora'ssociety! Did it ever occur to you that she might learn to take too muchpleasure in yours? Answer me truly. "

"Hannah, yes, I believed that she was very happy in my company. "

"In a word, you liked her, and you knew you were winning her liking! Andyet you had no intentions of any sort, you say; you meant nothing, youadmit, but to enjoy yourself! How, Mr. Brudenell, do you think it amanly part for a gentleman to seek to win a poor girl's love merely forhis pastime?"

"Hannah, you are severe on me! Heaven knows I have never spoken one wordof love to Nora. "

"'Never spoken one word!' What of that? What need of words? Are notglances, are not tones, far more eloquent than words? With these glancesand tones you have a thousand times assured my young sister that youlove her, that you adore her, that you worship her!"

"Hannah, if my eyes spoke this language to Nora, they spoke Heaven's owntruth! There! I have told you more than I ever told her, for to her myeyes only have spoken!" said the young man fervently. 

"Of what were you talking with your heads so close together thismorning?" asked Hannah abruptly. 

"How do I know? Of birds, of flowers, moonshine, or some such rubbish. Iwas not heeding my words. "

"No, your eyes were too busy! And now, Mr. Brudenell, I repeat myquestion: Was yours a manly part--discoursing all this love to Nora, andhaving no ultimate intentions?"

"Hannah, I never questioned my conscience upon that point; I was toohappy for such cross-examination. "

"But now the question is forced upon you, Mr. Brudenell, and we musthave an answer now and here. "

"Then, Hannah, I will answer truly! I love Nora; and if I were free tomarry, I would make her my wife to-morrow; but I am not; therefore Ihave been wrong, and very wrong, to seek her society. I acted, however, from want of thought, not from want of principle; I hope you willbelieve that, Hannah. "

"I do believe it, Mr. Brudenell. "

"And now I put myself in your hands, Hannah! Direct me as you thinkbest; I will obey you. What shall I do?"

"See Nora no more; from this day absent yourself from our house. "

He turned pale as death, reeled, and supported himself against the trunkof a friendly tree. 

Hannah looked at him, and from the bottom of her heart she pitied him;for she knew what love was--loving Reuben. 

"Mr. Brudenell, " she said, "do not take this to heart so much: whyshould you, indeed, when you know that your fate is in your own hands?You are master of your own destiny, and no man who is so should give wayto despondency. The alternative before you is simply this: to cease tovisit Nora, or to marry her. To do the first you must sacrifice yourlove, to do the last you must sacrifice your pride. Now choose betweenthe courses of action! Gratify your love or your pride, as you see fit, and cheerfully pay down the price! This seems to me to be the onlymanly, the only rational, course. "

"Oh, Hannah, Hannah, you do not understand! you do not!" he cried in avoice full of anguish. 

"Yes, I do; I know how hard it would be to you in either case. On theone hand, what a cruel wrench it will give your heart to tear yourselffrom Nora--"

"Yes, yes; oh, Heaven, yes!"

"And, on the other hand, I know what an awful sacrifice you would makein marrying her--"

"It is not that! Oh, do me justice! I should not think it a sacrifice!She is too good for me! Oh, Hannah, it is not that which hinders!"

"It is the thought of your mother and sisters, perhaps; but surely ifthey love you, as I am certain they do, and if they see your happinessdepends upon this marriage--in time they will yield!"

"It is not my family either, Hannah! Do you think that I would sacrificemy peace--or hers--to the unreasonable pride of my family? No, Hannah, no!"

"Then what is it? What stands in the way of your offering your hand toher to whom you have given your heart?"

"Hannah, I cannot tell you! Oh, Hannah, I feel that I have been verywrong, criminal even! But I acted blindly; you have opened my eyes, andnow I see I must visit your house no more; how much it costs me to saythis--to do this--you can never know!"

He wiped the perspiration from his pale brow, and, after a few momentsgiven to the effort of composing himself, he asked:

"Shall we go on now?"

She nodded assent and they walked onward. 

"Hannah, " he said, as they went along, "I have one deplorable weakness. "

She looked up suddenly, fearing to hear the confession of some fatalvice. 

He continued:

"It is the propensity to please others, whether by doing so I act wellor ill!"

"Mr. Brudenell!" exclaimed Hannah, in a shocked voice. 

"Yes, the pain I feel in seeing others suffer, the delight I have inseeing them enjoy, often leads--leads me to sacrifice not only my ownpersonal interests, but the principles of truth and justice!"

"Oh, Mr. Brudenell!"

"It is so, Hannah! And one signal instance of such a sacrifice at onceof myself and of the right has loaded my life with endless regret!However, I am ungenerous to say this; for a gift once given, even if itis of that which one holds most precious in the world, should beforgotten or at least not be grudged by the giver! Ah, Hannah--" Hestopped abruptly. 

"Mr. Brudenell, you will excuse me for saying that I agree with you inyour reproach of yourself. That trait of which you speak is a weaknesswhich should be cured. I am but a poor country girl. But I have seenenough to know that sensitive and sympathizing natures like your own arealways at the mercy of all around them. The honest and the generous takeno advantage of such; but the selfish and the calculating make a prey ofthem! You call this weakness a propensity to please others! Mr. Brudenell, seek to please the Lord and He will give you strength toresist the spoilers, " said Hannah gravely. 

"Too late, too late, at least as far as this life is concerned, for I amruined, Hannah!"

"Ruined! Mr. Brudenell!"

"Ruined, Hannah!"

"Good Heaven! I hope you have not endorsed for anyone to the wholeextent of your fortune?"

"Ha, ha, ha! You make me laugh, Hannah! laugh in the very face of ruin, to think that you should consider loss of fortune a subject of sucheternal regret as I told you my life was loaded with!"

"Oh, Mr. Brudenell, I have known you from childhood! I hope, I hope youhaven't gambled or--"

"Thank Heaven, no, Hannah! I have never gambled, nor drank, nor--infact, done anything of the sort!"

"You have not endorsed for anyone, nor gambled, nor drank, nor anythingof that sort, and yet you are ruined!"

"Ruined and wretched, Hannah! I do not exaggerate in saying so!"

"And yet you looked so happy!"

"Grasses grow and flowers bloom above burning volcanoes, Hannah. "

"Ah, Mr. Brudenell, what is the nature of this ruin then? Tell me! I amyour sincere friend, and I am older than you; perhaps I could counselyou. "

"It is past counsel, Hannah. "

"What is it then?"

"I cannot tell you except this! that the fatality of which I speak isthe only reason why I do not overstep the boundary of conventional rankand marry Nora! Why I do not marry anybody! Hush! here we are at thehouse. "

Very stately and beautiful looked the mansion with its walls of whitefree-stone and its porticos of white marble, gleaming through its grovesupon the top of the hill. 

When they reached it Hannah turned to go around to the servants' door, but Mr. Brudenell called to her, saying:

"This way! this way, Hannah!" and conducted her up the marble steps tothe visitors' entrance. 

He preceded her into the drawing-room, a spacious apartment now in itssimple summer dress of straw matting, linen covers, and lace curtains. 

Mrs. Brudenell and the two young ladies, all in white muslin morningdresses, were gathered around a marble table in the recess of the backbay window, looking over newspapers. 

On seeing the visitor who accompanied her son, Mrs. Brudenell arose witha look of haughty surprise. 

"You wished to see Hannah Worth, I believe, mother, and here she is, "said Herman. 

"My housekeeper did. Touch the bell, if you please, Herman. "

Mr. Brudenell did as requested, and the summons was answered by Jovial. 

"Take this woman to Mrs. Spicer, and say that she has come about theweaving. When she leaves show her where the servants' door is, so thatshe may know where to find it when she comes again, " said Mrs. Brudenellhaughtily. As soon as Hannah had left the room Herman said:

"Mother, you need not have hurt that poor girl's feelings by speaking sobefore her. "

"She need not have exposed herself to rebuke by entering where she did. "

"Mother, she entered with me. I brought her in. "

"Then you were very wrong. These people, like all of their class, require to be kept down--repressed. "

"Mother, this is a republic!"

"Yes; and it is ten times more necessary to keep the lower orders down, in a republic like this, where they are always trying to rise, than itis in a monarchy, where they always keep their place, " said the ladyarrogantly. 

"What have you there?" inquired Herman, with a view of changing thedisagreeable subject. 

"The English papers. The foreign mail is in. And, by the way, here is aletter for you. "

Herman received the letter from her hand, changed color as he looked atthe writing on the envelope, and walked away to the front window to readit alone. 

His mother's watchful eyes followed him. 

As he read, his face flushed and paled; his eyes flashed and smoldered;sighs and moans escaped his lips. At length, softly crumpling up theletter, he thrust it into his pocket, and was stealing from the room toconceal his agitation, when his mother, who had seen it all, spoke:

"Any bad news, Herman?"

"No, madam, " he promptly answered. 

"What is the matter, then?"

He hesitated, and answered:

"Nothing. "

"Who is that letter from?"

"A correspondent, " he replied, escaping from the room. 

"Humph! I might have surmised that much, " laughed the lady, with angryscorn. 

But he was out of hearing. 

"Did you notice the handwriting on the envelope of that letter, Elizabeth?" she inquired of her elder daughter. 

"Which letter, mamma?"

"That one for your brother, of course. "

"No, mamma, I did not look at it. "

"You never look at anything but your stupid worsted work. You will be anold maid, Elizabeth. Did you notice it, Elinor?"

"Yes, mamma. The superscription was in a very delicate femininehandwriting; and the seal was a wounded falcon, drawing the arrow fromits own breast--surmounted by an earl's coronet. "

"'Tis the seal of the Countess of Hurstmonceux. "

CHAPTER IV. 

THE FATAL DEED. 

 I am undone; there is no living, none, If Bertram be away. It were all one, That I should love a bright particular star, And think to wed it, he is so above me. The hind that would be mated by the lion, Must die for love. 'Twas pretty though a plague To see him every hour; to sit and draw His arched brow, his hawking eyes, his curls In our heart's table; heart too capable Of every line and trick of his sweet favor. 

 --_Shakspere_. 

Hannah Worth walked home, laden like a beast of burden, with an enormousbag of hanked yarn on her back. She entered her hut, dropped the burdenon the floor, and stopped to take breath. 

"I think they might have sent a negro man to bring that for you, Hannah, " said Nora, pausing in her spinning. 

"As if they would do that!" panted Hannah. 

Not a word was said upon the subject of Herman Brudenell's morningvisit. Hannah forebore to allude to it from pity; Nora from modesty. 

Hannah sat down to rest, and Nora got up to prepare their simpleafternoon meal. For these sisters, like many poor women, took but twomeals a day. 

The evening passed much as usual; but the next morning, as the sisterswere at work, Hannah putting the warp for Mrs. Brudenell's new web ofcloth in the loom, and Nora spinning, the elder noticed that the youngeroften paused in her work and glanced uneasily from the window. Ah, toowell Hannah understood the meaning of those involuntary glances. Norawas "watching for the steps that came not back again!"

Hannah felt sorry for her sister; but she said to herself:

"Never mind, she will be all right in a few days. She will forget him. "

This did not happen so, however. As day followed day, and HermanBrudenell failed to appear, Nora Worth grew more uneasy, expectant, andanxious. Ah! who can estimate the real heart-sickness of "hopedeferred!" Every morning she said to herself: "He will surely cometo-day !" Every day each sense of hearing and of seeing was on the quivive to catch the first sound or the first sight of his approach. Everynight she went to bed to weep in silent sorrow. 

All other sorrows may be shared and lightened by sympathy except that ofa young girl's disappointment in love. With that no one intermeddleswith impunity. To notice it is to distress her; to speak of it is toinsult her; even her sister must in silence respect it; as the expiringdove folds her wing over her mortal wound, so does the maiden jealouslyconceal her grief and die. Days grew into weeks, and Herman did notcome. And still Nora watched and listened as she spun--every nervestrained to its utmost tension in vigilance and expectancy. Humannature--especially a girl's nature--cannot bear such a trial for anylong time together. Nora's health began to fail; first she lost herspirits, and then her appetite, and finally her sleep. She grew pale, thin, and nervous. 

Hannah's heart ached for her sister. 

"This will never do, " she said; "suspense is killing her. I must endit. "

So one morning while they were at work as usual, and Nora's hand waspausing on her spindle, and her eyes were fixed upon the narrow pathleading through the Forest Valley, Hannah spoke:

"It will not do, dear; he is not coming! he will never come again; andsince he cannot be anything to you, he ought not to come!"

"Oh, Hannah, I know it; but it is killing me!"

These words were surprised from the poor girl; for the very next instanther waxen cheeks, brow, neck, and very ears kindled up into fieryblushes, and hiding her face in her hands she sank down in her chairoverwhelmed. 

Hannah watched, and then went to her, and began to caress her, saying:

"Nora, Nora, dear; Nora, love; Nora, my own darling, look up!"

"Don't speak to me; I am glad he does not come; never mention his nameto me again, Hannah, " said the stricken girl, in a low, peremptorywhisper. 

Hannah felt that this order must be obeyed, and so she went back to herloom and worked on in silence. 

After a few minutes Nora arose and resumed her spinning, and for sometime the wheel whirled briskly and merrily around. But towards themiddle of the day it began to turn slowly and still more slowly. 

At length it stopped entirely, and the spinner said:

"Hannah, I feel very tired; would you mind if I should lay down a littlewhile?"

"No, certainly not, my darling. Are you poorly, Nora?"

"No, I am quite well, only tired, " replied the girl, as she threwherself upon the bed. 

Perhaps Hannah had made a fatal mistake in saying to her sister, "Hewill never come again, " and so depriving her of the last frail plank ofhope, and letting her sink in the waves of despair. Perhaps, after all, suspense is not the worst of all things to bear; for in suspense thereis hope, and in hope, life! Certain it is that a prop seemed withdrawnfrom Nora, and from this day she rapidly sunk. She would not take to herbed. Every morning she would insist upon rising and dressing, thoughdaily the effort was more difficult. Every day she would go to her wheeland spin slowly and feebly, until by fatigue she was obliged to stop andthrow herself upon the bed. To all Hannah's anxious questions sheanswered:

"I am very well! indeed there is nothing ails me; only I am so tired!"

One day about this time Reuben Gray called to see Hannah. Reuben was oneof the most discreet of lovers, never venturing to visit his belovedmore than once in each month. 

"Look at Nora!" said Hannah, in a heart-broken tone, as she pointed toher sister, who was sitting at her wheel, not spinning, but gazing fromthe window down the narrow footpath, and apparently lost in mournfulreverie. 

"I'll go and fetch a medical man, " said Reuben, and he left the hut forthat purpose. 

But distances from house to house in that sparsely settled neighborhoodwere great, and doctors were few and could not be had the moment theywere called for. So it was not until the next day that Doctor Potts, theround-bodied little medical attendant of the neighborhood, made hisappearance at the hut. 

He was welcomed by Hannah, who introduced him to her sister. 

Nora received his visit with a great deal of nervous irritability, declaring that nothing at all ailed her, only that she was tired. 

"Tired, " repeated the doctor, as he felt her pulse and watched hercountenance. "Yes, tired of living! a serious fatigue this, Hannah. Hermalady is more on the mind than the body! You must try to rouse her, take her into company, keep her amused. If you were able to travel, Ishould recommend change of scene; but of course that is out of thequestion. However, give her this, according to the directions. I willcall in again to see her in a few days. " And so saying, the doctor lefta bottle of medicine and took his departure. 

That day the doctor had to make a professional visit of inspection tothe negro quarters at Brudenell Hall; so he mounted his fat little whitecob and trotted down the hill in the direction of the valley. 

When he arrived at Brudenell Hall he was met by Mrs. Brudenell, who saidto him:

"Dr. Potts, I wish before you leave, you would see my son. I amseriously anxious about his health. He objected to my sending for you;but now that you are here on a visit to the quarters, perhaps hisobjections may give way. "

"Very well, madam; but since he does not wish to be attended, perhaps hehad better not know that my visit is to him; I will just make you a callas usual. "

"Join us at lunch, doctor, and you can observe him at your leisure. "

"Thank you, madam. What seems the matter with Mr. Brudenell?"

"A general failure without any particular disease. If it were not that Iknow better, I would say that something lay heavily upon his mind. "

"Humph! a second case of that kind to-day! Well, madam, I will join youat two o'clock, " said the doctor, as he trotted off towards the negroquarters. 

Punctually at the hour the doctor presented himself at the luncheontable of Mrs. Brudenell. There were present Mrs. Brudenell, her twodaughters, her son, and a tall, dark, distinguished looking man, whomthe lady named as Colonel Mervin. 

The conversation, enlivened by a bottle of fine champagne, flowedbriskly and cheerfully around the table. But through all the doctorwatched Herman Brudenell. He was indeed changed. He looked ill, yet heate, drank, laughed, and talked with the best there. But when his eyemet that of the doctor fixed upon him, it flashed with a threateningglance that seemed to repel scrutiny. 

The doctor, to turn the attention of the lady from her son, said:

"I was at the hut on the hill to-day. One of those poor girls, theyoungest, Nora, I think they call her, is in a bad way. She seems to meto be sinking into a decline. " As he said this he happened to glance atHerman Brudenell. That gentleman's eyes were fixed upon his with a gazeof wild alarm, but they sank as soon as noticed. 

"Poor creatures! that class of people scarcely ever get enough to eat ordrink, and thus so many of them die of decline brought on frominsufficiency of nourishment. I will send a bag of flour up to the hutto-morrow, " said Mrs. Brudenell complacently. 

Soon after they all arose from the table. 

The little doctor offered his arm to Mrs. Brudenell, and as they walkedto the drawing-room he found an opportunity of saying to her:

"It is, I think, as you surmised. There is something on his mind. Try tofind out what it is. That is my advice. It is of no use to tease himwith medical attendance. "

When they reached the drawing room they found the boy with the mail bagwaiting for his mistress. She quickly unlocked and distributed itscontents. 

"Letters for everybody except myself! But here is a late copy of the'London Times' with which I can amuse myself while you look over yourepistles, ladies and gentlemen, " said Mrs. Brudenell, as she settledherself to the perusal of her paper. She skipped the leader, read thecourt circular, and was deep in the column of casualties, when shesuddenly cried out:

"Good Heaven, Herman! what a catastrophe!"

"What is it, mother?"

"A collision on the London and Brighton Railway, and ever so many killedor wounded, and--Gracious goodness!"

"What, mother?"

"Among those instantly killed are the Marquis and Marchioness ofBrambleton and the Countess of Hurstmonceux!"

"No!" cried the young man, rushing across the room, snatching the paperfrom his mother's hand, and with starting eyes fixed upon the paragraphthat she hastily pointed out, seeming to devour the words. 

A few days after this Nora Worth sat propped up in an easy-chair by theopen window that commanded the view of the Forest Valley and of theopposite hill crowned with the splendid mansion of Brudenell Hall. 

But Nora was not looking upon this view; at least except upon a verysmall part of it--namely, the little narrow footpath that led down herown hill and was lost in the shade of the valley. The doctor'sprescriptions had done Nora no good; how should they? Could he, morethan others, "minister to a mind diseased"? In a word, she had now grownso weak that the spinning was entirely set aside, and she passed herdays propped up in the easy-chair beside the window, through which shecould watch that little path, which was now indeed so disused, soneglected and grass grown, as to be almost obliterated. 

Suddenly, while Nora's eyes were fixed abstractedly upon this path, sheuttered a great cry and started to her feet. 

Hannah stopped the clatter of her shuttle to see what was the matter. 

Nora was leaning from the window, gazing breathlessly down the path. 

"What is it, Nora, my dear? Don't lean so far out; you will fall! Whatis it?"

"Oh, Hannah, he is coming! he is coming!"

"Who is coming, my darling? I see no one!" said the elder sister, straining her eyes down the path. 

"But I feel him coming! He is coming fast! He will be in sightpresently! There! what did I tell you? There he is!"

And truly at that moment Herman Brudenell advanced from the thicket andwalked rapidly up the path towards the hut. 

Nora sank back in her seat, overcome, almost fainting. 

Another moment and Herman Brudenell was in the room, clasping her form, and sobbing:

"Nora! Nora, my beloved! my beautiful! you have been ill and I knew itnot! dying, and I knew it not! Oh! oh! oh!"

"Yes, but I am well, now that you are here!" gasped the girl, as shethrilled and trembled with returning life. But the moment thisconfession had been surprised from her she blushed fiery red to the verytips of her ears and hid her face in the pillows of her chair. 

"My darling girl! My own blessed girl! do not turn your face away! lookat me with your sweet eyes! See, I am here at your side, telling you howdeep my own sorrow had been at the separation from you, and how muchdeeper at the thought that you also have suffered! Look at me! Smile onme! Speak to me, beloved! I am your own!"

These and many other wild, tender, pleading words of love he breathed inthe ear of the listening, blushing, happy girl; both quite heedless ofthe presence of Hannah, who stood petrified with consternation. 

At length, however, by the time Herman had seated himself beside Nora, Hannah recovered her presence of mind and power of motion; and she wentto him and said:

"Mr. Brudenell! Is this well? Could you not leave her in peace?"

"No, I could not leave her! Yes, it is well, Hannah! The burden I spokeof is unexpectedly lifted from my life! I am a restored man. And I havecome here to-day to ask Nora, in your presence, and with your consent, to be my wife!"

"And with your mother's consent, Mr. Brudenell?"

"Hannah, that was unkind of you to throw a damper upon my joy. And lookat me, I have not been in such robust health myself since you drove meaway!"

As he said this, Nora's hand, which he held, closed convulsively on his, and she murmured under her breath:

"Have you been ill? You are not pale!"

"No, love, I was only sad at our long separation; now you see I amflushed with joy; for now I shall see you every day!" he replied, lifting her hand to his lips. 

Hannah was dreadfully disturbed. She was delighted to see life, andlight, and color flowing back to her sister's face; but she was dismayedat the very cause of this--the presence of Herman Brudenell. Theinstincts of her affections and the sense of her duties were at war inher bosom. The latter as yet was in the ascendency. It was under itsinfluence she spoke again. 

"But, Mr. Brudenell, your mother?"

"Hannah! Hannah! don't be disagreeable! You are too young to play duennayet!" he said gayly. 

"I do not know what you mean by duenna, Mr. Brudenell, but I know whatis due to your mother, " replied the elder sister gravely. 

"Mother, mother, mother; how tiresome you are, Hannah, everlastinglyrepeating the same word over and over again! You shall not make usmiserable. We intend to be happy, now, Nora and myself. Do we not, dearest?" he added, changing the testy tone in which he had spoken tothe elder sister for one of the deepest tenderness as he turned andaddressed the younger. 

"Yes, but, your mother, " murmured Nora very softly and timidly. 

"You too! Decidedly that word is infectious, like yawning! Well, mydears, since you will bring it on the tapis, let us discuss and dismissit. My mother is a very fine woman, Hannah; but she is unreasonable, Nora. She is attached to what she calls her 'order, ' my dears, and neverwould consent to my marriage with any other than a lady of rank andwealth. "

"Then you must give up Nora, Mr. Brudenell, " said Hannah gravely. 

"Yes, indeed, " assented poor Nora, under her breath, and turning pale. 

"May the Lord give me up if I do!" cried the young man impetuously. 

"You will never defy your mother, " said Hannah. 

"Oh, no! oh, no! I should be frightened to death, " gasped Nora, trembling between weakness and fear. 

"No, I will never defy my mother; there are other ways of doing things;I must marry Nora, and we must keep the affair quiet for a time. "

"I do not understand you, " said Hannah coldly. 

"Nora does, though! Do you not, my darling?" exclaimed Hermantriumphantly. 

And the blushing but joyous face of Nora answered him. 

"You say you will not defy your mother. Do you mean then to deceive her, Mr. Brudenell?" inquired the elder sister severely. 

"Hannah, don't be abusive! This is just the whole matter, in brief. I amtwenty-one, master of myself and my estate. I could marry Nora at anytime, openly, without my mother's consent. But that would give her greatpain. It would not kill her, nor make her ill, but it would wound her inher tenderest points--her love of her son, and her love of rank; itwould produce an open rupture between us. She would never forgive me, nor acknowledge my wife. "

"Then why do you speak at all of marrying Nora?" interrupted Hannahangrily. 

Herman turned and looked at Nora. That mute look was his only answer, and it was eloquent; it said plainly what his lips forbore to speak: "Ihave won her love, and I ought to marry her; for if I do not, she willdie. "

Then he continued as if Hannah had not interrupted him:

"I wish to get on as easily as I can between these conflictingdifficulties. I will not wrong Nora, and I will not grieve my mother. The only way to avoid doing either will be for me to marry my darlingprivately, and keep the affair a secret until a fitting opportunityoffers to publish it. "

"A secret marriage! Mr. Brudenell! is that what you propose to mysister?"

"Why not, Hannah?"

"Secret marriages are terrible things!"

"Disappointed affections, broken hearts, early graves, are moreterrible. "

"Fudge!" was the word that rose to Hannah's lips, as she looked at theyoung man; but when she turned to her sister she felt that his wordsmight be true. 

"Besides, Hannah, " he continued, "this will not be a secret marriage. You cannot call that a secret which will be known to four persons--theparson, you, Nora, and myself. I shall not even bind you or Nora to keepthe secret longer than you think it her interest to declare it. Sheshall have the marriage certificate in her own keeping, and every legalprotection and defense; so that even if I should die suddenly--"

Nora gasped for breath. 

--"she would be able to claim and establish her rights and position inthe world. Hannah, you must see that I mean to act honestly andhonorably, " said the young man, in an earnest tone. 

"I see that you do; but, Mr. Brudenell, it appears to me that the fatalweakness of which you have already spoken to me--the 'propensity toplease'--is again leading you into error. You wish to save Nora, and youwish to spare your mother; and to do both these things, you aresacrificing--"

"What, Hannah?"

"Well--fair, plain, open, straight-forward, upright dealing, such asshould always exist between man and woman. "

"Hannah, you are unjust to me! Am I not fair, plain, open, straight-forward, upright, and all the rest of it in my dealing withyou?"

"With us, yes; but--"

"With my mother it is necessary to be cautious. It is true that she hasno right to oppose my marriage with Nora; but yet she would oppose it, even to death! Therefore, to save trouble and secure peace, I wouldmarry my dear Nora quietly. Mystery, Hannah, is not necessarily guilt;it is often wisdom and mercy. Do not object to a little harmlessmystery, that is besides to secure peace! Come, Hannah, what say you?"

"How long must this marriage, should it take place, be kept a secret?"inquired Hannah uneasily. 

"Not one hour longer than you and Nora think it necessary that it shouldbe declared! Still, I should beg your forbearance as long as possible. Come, Hannah, your answer!"

"I must have time to reflect. I fear I should be doing very wrong toconsent to this marriage, and yet--and yet--. But I must take a night tothink of it! To-morrow, Mr. Brudenell, I will give you an answer!"

With this reply the young man was obliged to be contented. Soon after hearose and took his leave. 

When he was quite out of hearing Nora arose and threw herself into hersister's arms, crying:

"Oh, Hannah, consent! consent! I cannot live without him!"

The elder sister caressed the younger tenderly; told her of all thedangers of a secret marriage; of all the miseries of an ill-sorted one;and implored her to dismiss her wealthy lover, and struggle with hermisplaced love. 

Nora replied only with tears and sobs, and vain repetitions of thewords:

"I cannot live without him, Hannah! I cannot live without him!"

Alas, for weakness, willfulness, and passion! They, and not wisecounsels, gained the day. Nora would not give up her lover; would notstruggle with her love; but would have her own way. 

At length, in yielding a reluctant acquiesence, Hannah said:

"I would never countenance this--never, Nora! but for one reason; it isthat I know, whether I consent or not, you two, weak and willful andpassionate as you are, will rush into this imprudent marriage all thesame! And I think for your sake it had better take place with mysanction, and in my presence, than otherwise. "

Nora clasped her sister's neck and covered her face with kisses. 

"He means well by us, dear Hannah--indeed he does, bless him! So do notlook so grave because we are going to be happy. "

Had Herman felt sure of his answer the next day? It really seemed so;for when he made his appearance at the cottage in the morning he broughtthe marriage license in his pocket and a peripatetic minister in hiscompany. 

And before the astonished sisters had time to recover theirself-possession Herman Brudenell's will had carried his purpose, and themarriage ceremony was performed. The minister then wrote out thecertificate, which was signed by himself, and witnessed by Hannah, andhanded it to the bride. 

"Now, dearest Nora, " whispered the triumphant bridegroom, "I am happy, and you are safe!"

But--were either of them really safe or happy?

CHAPTER V. 

LOVE AND FATE. 

 Amid the sylvan solitude Of unshorn grass and waving wood And waters glancing bright and fast, A softened voice was in her ear, Sweet as those lulling sounds and fine The hunter lifts his head to hear, Now far and faint, now full and near-- The murmur of the wood swept pine. A manly form was ever nigh, A bold, free hunter, with an eye Whose dark, keen glance had power to wake Both fear and love--to awe and charm. Faded the world that they had known, A poor vain shadow, cold and waste, In the warm present bliss alone Seemed they of actual life to taste. 

 --_Whittier_. 

It was in the month of June they were married; when the sun shone withhis brightest splendor; when the sky was of the clearest blue, when thegrass was of the freshest green, the woods in their rudest foliage, theflowers in their richest bloom, and all nature in her most luxuriantlife! Yes, June was their honeymoon; the forest shades their bridalhalls, and birds and flowers and leaves and rills their train ofattendants. For weeks they lived a kind of fairy life, wanderingtogether through the depths of the valley forest, discovering throughthe illumination of their love new beauties and glories in the earth andsky; new sympathies with every form of life. Were ever suns so bright, skies so clear, and woods so green as theirs in this month of beauty, love, and joy!

"It seems to me that I must have been deaf and blind and stupid in thedays before I knew you, Herman! for then the sun seemed only to shine, and now I feel that he smiles as well as shines; then the trees onlyseemed to bend under a passing breeze, now I know they stoop to caressus; then the flowers seemed only to be crowded, now I know they drawtogether to kiss; then indeed I loved nature, but now I know that shealso is alive and loves me!" said Nora, one day, as they sat upon a bankof wild thyme under the spreading branches of an old oak tree that stoodalone in a little opening of the forest. 

"You darling of nature! you might have known that all along!" exclaimedHerman, enthusiastically pressing her to his heart. 

"Oh, how good you are to love me so much! you--so high, so learned, sowealthy; you who have seen so many fine ladies--to come down to me, apoor, ignorant, weaver-girl!" said Nora humbly--for true love in many awoman is ever most humble and most idolatrous, abasing itself andidolizing its object. 

"Come down to you, my angel and my queen! to you, whose beauty is soheavenly and so royal that it seems to me everyone should worship andadore you! how could I come down to you! Ah, Nora, it seems to me thatit is you who have stooped to me! There are kings on this earth, mybeloved, who might be proud to place such regal beauty on their thronesbeside them! For, oh! you are as beautiful, my Nora, as any woman ofold, for whom heroes lost worlds!"

"Do you think so? do you really think so? I am so glad for your sake! Iwish I were ten times as beautiful! and high-born, and learned, andaccomplished, and wealthy, and everything else that is good, for yoursake! Herman, I would be willing to pass through a fiery furnace if bydoing so I could come out like refined gold, for your sake!"

"Hush, hush, sweet love! that fiery furnace of which you speak is theScriptural symbol for fearful trial and intense suffering! far be itfrom you! for I would rather my whole body were consumed to ashes thanone shining tress of your raven hair should be singed!"

"But, Herman! one of the books you read to me said: 'All that is goodmust be toiled for; all that is best must be suffered for'; and I amwilling to do or bear anything in the world that would make me moreworthy of you!"

"My darling, you are worthy of a monarch, and much too good for me!"

"How kind you are to say so! but for all that I know I am only a poor, humble, ignorant girl, quite unfit to be your wife! And, oh! sometimesit makes me very sad to think so!" said Nora, with a deep sigh. 

"Then do not think so, my own! why should you? You are beautiful; youare good; you are lovely and beloved, and you ought to be happy!"exclaimed Herman. 

"Oh, I am happy! very happy now! For whatever I do or say, right orwrong, is good in your eyes, and pleases you because you love me somuch. God bless you! God love you! God save you, whatever becomes ofyour poor Nora!" she said, with a still heavier sigh. 

At this moment a soft summer cloud floated between them and the blazingmeridian sun, veiling its glory. 

"Why, what is the matter, love? What has come over you?" inquiredHerman, gently caressing her. 

"I do not know; nothing more than that perhaps, " answered Nora, pointingto the cloud that was now passing over the sun. 

"'Nothing more than that. ' Well, that has now passed, so smile forthagain, my sun!" said Herman gayly. 

"Ah, dear Herman, if this happy life could only last! this life in whichwe wander or repose in these beautiful summer woods, among rills andflowers and birds! Oh, it is like the Arcadia of which you read to me inyour books, Herman! Ah, if it would only last!"

"Why should it not, love?"

"Because it cannot. Winter will come with its wind and snow and ice. Thewoods will be bare, the grass dry, the flowers all withered, the streamsfrozen, and the birds gone away, and we--" Here her voice sank intosilence, but Herman took up the word:

"Well, and we, beloved! we shall pass to something much better! We arenot partridges or squirrels to live in the woods and fields all winter!We shall go to our own luxurious home! You will be my loved and honoredand happy wife; the mistress of an elegant house, a fine estate, andmany negroes. You will have superb furniture, beautiful dresses, splendid jewels, servants to attend you, carriages, horses, pleasureboats, and everything else that heart could wish, or money buy, or lovefind to make you happy! Think! Oh, think of all the joys that are instore for you!"

"Not for me! Oh, not for me those splendors and luxuries and joys thatyou speak of! They are too good for me; I shall never possess them; Iknow it, Herman; and I knew it even in that hour of heavenly bliss whenyou first told me you loved me! I knew it even when we stood before theminister to be married, and I know it still! This short summer of lovewill be all the joy I shall ever have. "

"In the name of Heaven, Nora, what do you mean? Is it possible that youcan imagine I shall ever be false to you?" passionately demanded theyoung man, who was deeply impressed at last by the sad earnestness ofher manner. 

"No! no! no! I never imagine anything unworthy of your gentle and noblenature, " said Nora, with fervent emphasis as she pressed closer to hisside. 

"Then why, why, do you torture yourself and me with these darkprevisions?"

"I do not know. Forgive me, Herman, " softly sighed Nora, laying hercheek against his own. 

He stole his arm around her waist, and as he drew her to his heart, murmured:

"Why should you not enjoy all the wealth, rank, and love to which youare entitled as my wife?"

"Ah! dear Herman, I cannot tell why. I only know that I never shall!Bear with me, dear Herman, while I say this; After I had learned to loveyou; after I had grieved myself almost to death for your absence; whenyou returned and asked me to be your wife, I seemed suddenly to havepassed from darkness into radiant light! But in the midst of it all Iseemed to hear a voice in my heart, saying: 'Poor Moth! you are baskingin a consuming fire; you will presently fall to the ground a burnt, blackened, tortured, and writhing thing. ' And, Herman, when I thought ofthe great difference between us; of your old family, high rank, and vastwealth; and of your magnificent house, and your stately lady mother andfine lady sisters, I knew that though you had married me, I never couldbe owned as your wife--"

"Nora, if it were possible for me to be angry with you, I should be so!"interrupted Herman vehemently; "'you never could be owned as my wife!' Itell you that you can be--and that you shall be, and very soon! It wasonly to avoid a rupture with my mother that I married you privately atall. Have I not surrounded you with every legal security? Have I notarmed you even against myself? Do you not know that even if it werepossible for me to turn rascal, and become so mean, and miserable, anddishonored as to desert you, you could still demand your rights as awife, and compel me to yield them!"

"As if I would! Oh, Herman, as if I would depend upon anything but yourdear love to give me all I need! Armed against you, am I? I do notchoose to be so! It is enough for me to know that I am your wife. I donot care to be able to prove it; for, Herman, were it possible for youto forsake me, I should not insist upon my 'rights'--I should die. Therefore, why should I be armed with legal proofs against you, myHerman, my life, my soul, my self? I will not continue so!" And with agenerous abandonment she drew from her bosom the marriage certificate, tore it to pieces, and scattered it abroad, saying: "There now! I hadkept it as a love token, close to my heart, little knowing it was acold-blooded, cautious, legal proof, else it should have gone before, where it has gone now, to the winds! There now, Herman, I am your ownwife, your own Nora, quite unarmed and defenseless before you; trustingonly to your faith for my happiness; knowing that you will neverwillingly forsake me; but feeling that if you do, I should not pursueyou, but die!"

"Dear trusting girl! would you indeed deprive yourself of all defensesthus? But, my Nora, did you suppose when I took you to my bosom that Ihad intrusted your peace and safety and honor only to a scrap ofperishable paper? No, Nora, no! Infidelity to you is forever impossibleto me; but death is always possible to all persons; and so, though Icould never forsake you, I might die and leave you; and to guard againstthe consequences of such a contingency I surrounded you with every legalsecurity. The minister that married us resides in this county; thewitness that attended us lives with you. So that if to-morrow I shoulddie, you could claim, as my widow, your half of my personal propertyand your life-interest in my estate. And if to-morrow you should becomeimpatient of your condition as a secreted wife, and wish to enter uponall the honors of Bradenell Hall, you have the power to do so!"

"As if I would! As if it was for that I loved you! oh, Herman!"

"I know you would not, love! And I know it was not for that you lovedme! I have perfect confidence in your disinterestedness. And I hope youhave as much in mine. "

"I have, Herman. I have!"

"Then, to go back to the first question, why did you wound me by saying, that though I had married you, you knew you never could be owned as mywife?"

"I spoke from a deep conviction! Oh, Herman, I know you will neverwillingly forsake me; but I feel you will never acknowledge me!"

"Then you must think me a villain!" said Herman bitterly. 

"No, no, no; I think, if you must have my thoughts, you are thegentlest, truest, and noblest among men. "

"You cannot get away from the point; if you think I could desert you, you must think I am a villain!"

"Oh, no, no! besides, I did not say you would desert me! I said youwould never own me!"

"It is in effect the same thing. "

"Herman, understand me: when I say, from the deep conviction I feel, that you will never own me, I also say that you will be blameless. "

"Those two things are incompatible, Nora! But why do you persist inasserting that you will never be owned?"

"Ah, dear me, because it is true!"

"But why do you think it is true?"

"Because when I try to imagine our future, I see only my own humble hut, with its spinning-wheel and loom. And I feel I shall never live inBrudenell Hall!"

"Nora, hear me: this is near the first of July; in six months, that isbefore the first of January, whether I live or die, as my wife or as mywidow, you shall rule at Brudenell Hall!"

Nora smiled, a strange, sad smile. 

"Listen, dearest, " he continued; "my mother leaves Brudenell inDecember. She thinks the two young ladies, my sisters, should have moresociety; so she has purchased a fine house in a fashionable quarter ofWashington City. The workmen are now busy decorating and furnishing it. She takes possession of it early in December. Then, my Nora, when mymother and sisters are clear of Brudenell Hall, and settled in theirtown-house, I will bring you home and write and announce our marriage. Thus there can be no noise. People cannot quarrel very long or fiercelythrough the post. And finally time and reflection will reconcile mymother to the inevitable, and we shall be all once more united andhappy. "

"Herman dear, " said Nora softly, "indeed my heart is toward your mother;I could love and revere and serve her as dutifully as if I were herdaughter, if she would only deign to let me. And, at any rate, whethershe will or not, I cannot help loving and honoring her, because she isyour mother and loves you. And, oh, Herman, if she could look into myheart and see how truly I love you, her son, how gladly I would sufferto make you happy, and how willing I should be to live in utter povertyand obscurity, if it would be for your good, I do think she would loveme a little for your sake!"

"Heaven grant it, my darling!"

"But be sure of this, dear Herman. No matter how she may think it goodto treat me, I can never be angry with her. I must always love her andseek her favor, for she is your mother. "

CHAPTER VI. 

A SECRET REVEALED. 

 Full soon upon that dream of sin An awful light came bursting in; The shrine was cold at which she knelt; The idol of that shrine was gone; An humbled thing of shame and guilt; Outcast and spurned and lone, Wrapt in the shadows of that crime, With withered heart and burning brain, And tears that fell like fiery rain, She passed a fearful time. 

 --_Whittier_. 

Thus in pleasant wandering through the wood and sweet repose beneath thetrees the happy lovers passed the blooming months of summer and theglowing months of autumn. 

But when the seasons changed again, and with the last days of Novembercame the bleak northwestern winds that stripped the last leaves from thebare trees, and covered the ground with snow and bound up the streamswith ice, and drove the birds to the South, the lovers withdrew withindoors, and spent many hours beside the humble cottage fireside. 

Here for the first time Herman had ample opportunity of finding out howvery poor the sisters really were, and how very hard one of them atleast worked. 

And from the abundance of his own resources he would have supplied theirwants and relieved them from this excess of toil, but that there was areserve of honest pride in these poor girls that forbade them to accepthis pressing offers. 

"But this is my own family now, " said Herman. "Nora is my wife andHannah is my sister-in-law, and it is equally my duty and pleasure toprovide for them. "

"No, Herman! No, dear Herman! we cannot be considered as your familyuntil you publicly acknowledge us as such. Dear Herman, do not think mecold or ungrateful, when I say to you that it would give me pain andmortification to receive anything from you, until I do so as youracknowledged wife, " said Nora. 

"You give everything--you give your hand, your heart, yourself! and youwill take nothing, " said the young man sadly. 

"Yes, I take as much as I give! I take your hand, your heart, andyourself in return for mine. That is fair; but I will take no more untilas your wife I take the head of your establishment, " said Nora proudly. 

"Hannah, is this right? She is my wife; she promised to obey me, and shedefies me--I ask you is this right?"

"Yes, Mr. Brudenell. When she is your acknowledged wife, in your house, then she will obey and never 'defy' you, as you call it; but now it isquite different; she has not the shield of your name, and she must takecare of her own self-respect until you relieve her of the charge, " saidthe elder sister gravely. 

"Hannah, you are a terrible duenna! You would be an acquisition to somecrabbed old Spaniard who had a beautiful young wife to look after! Now Iwant you to tell me how on earth my burning up that old loom and wheel, and putting a little comfortable furniture in this room, and paying yousufficient to support you both, can possibly hurt her self-respect?"demanded Herman. 

"It will do more than that! it will hurt her character, Mr. Brudenell;and that should be as dear to you as to herself. "

"It is! it is the dearest thing in life to me! But how should what Ipropose to do hurt either her self-respect or her character? You havenot told me that yet!"

"This way, Mr. Brudenell! If we were to accept your offers, ourneighbors would talk of us. "

"Neighbors! why, Hannah, what neighbors have you? In all the months thatI have been coming here, I have not chanced to meet a single soul!"

"No, you have not. And if you had, once in a way, met anyone here, theywould have taken you to be a mere passer-by resting yourself in our hut;but if you were to make us as comfortable as you wish, why the veryfirst chance visitor to the hut who would see that the loom and thespinning-wheel and old furniture were gone, and were replaced by thefine carpet, curtains, chairs, and sofa that you wish to give us, wouldgo away and tell the wonder. And people would say: 'Where did HannahWorth get these things?' or, 'How do they live?' or, 'Who supports thosegirls?' and so on. Now, Mr. Brudenell, those are questions I will nothave asked about myself and my sister, and that you ought not to wish tohave asked about your wife!"

"Hannah, you are quite right! You always are! And yet it distresses meto see you living and working as you do. "

"We are inured to it, Mr. Brudenell. "

"But it will not be for long, Hannah. Very soon my mother and sisters goto take possession of their new house in Washington. When they have leftBrudenell I will announce our marriage and bring you and your sisterhome. "

"Not me, Mr. Brudenell! I have said before that in marrying Nora you didnot marry all her poor relatives. I have told you that I will not sharethe splendors of Nora's destiny. No one shall have reason to say of me, as they would say if I went home with you, that I had connived at theyoung heir's secret marriage with my sister for the sake of securing aluxurious home for myself. No, Mr. Brudenell, Nora is beautiful, and itis not unnatural that she should have made a high match; and the worldwill soon forgive her for it and forget her humble origin. But I am aplain, rude, hard-working woman; am engaged to a man as poor, as rugged, and toil-worn as myself. We would be strangely out of place in yourmansion, subjected to the comments of your friends. We will neverintrude there. I shall remain here at my weaving until the time comes, if it ever should come, when Reuben and myself may marry, and then, ifpossible, we will go to the West, to better ourselves in a bettercountry. "

"Well, Hannah, well, if such be your final determination, you will allowme at least to do something towards expediting your marriage. I canadvance such a sum to Reuben Gray as will enable him to marry, and takeyou and all his own brothers and sisters to the rich lands of the West, where, instead of being encumbrances, they will be great helps to him;for there is to be found much work for every pair of hands, young orold, male or female, " said the young man, not displeased, perhaps, toprovide for his wife's poor relations at a distance from which theywould not be likely ever to enter his sphere. 

Hannah reflected for a moment and then said:

"I thank you very much for that offer, Mr. Brudenell. It was the wisestand kindest, both for yourself and us, that you could have made. And Ithink that if we could see our way through repaying the advance, wewould gratefully accept it. "

"Never trouble yourself about the repayment! Talk to Gray, and then, when my mother has gone, send him up to talk to me, " said Herman. 

To all this Nora said nothing. She sat silently, with her head restingupon her hand, and a heavy weight at her heart, such as she always feltwhen their future was spoken of. To her inner vision a heavy cloud thatwould not disperse always rested on that future. 

Thus the matter rested for the present. 

Herman continued his daily visits to the sisters, and longed impatientlyfor the time when he should feel free to acknowledge his beautiful youngpeasant-wife and place her at the head of his princely establishment. 

These daily visits of the young heir to the poor sisters attracted nogeneral attention. The hut on the hill was so remote from any road orany dwelling-house that few persons passed near it, and fewer stillentered its door. 

It was near the middle of December, when Mrs. Brudenell was busy withher last preparations for her removal, that the first rumor of Herman'svisits to the hut reached her. 

She was in the housekeeper's room, superintending in person theselection of certain choice pots of domestic sweetmeats from the familystores to be taken to the town-house, when Mrs. Spicer, who wasattending her, said:

"If you please, ma'am, there's Jem Morris been waiting in the kitchenall the morning to see you. "

"Ah! What does he want? A job, I suppose. Well, tell him to come inhere, " said the lady carelessly, as she scrutinized the label upon a jarof red currant jelly. 

The housekeeper left the room to obey, and returned ushering in anindividual who, as he performs an important part in this history, deserves some special notice. 

He was a mulatto, between forty-five and fifty years of age, of mediumsize, and regular features, with a quantity of woolly hair and beardthat hung down upon his breast. He was neatly dressed in the grayhomespun cloth of the country, and entered with a smiling countenanceand respectful manner. Upon the whole he was rather a good-looking andpleasing darky. He was a character, too, in his way. He possessed a fairamount of intellect, and a considerable fund of general information. Hehad contrived, somehow or other, to read and write; and he would readeverything he could lay his hands on, from the Bible to the almanac. Hehad formed his own opinions upon most of the subjects that interestsociety, and he expressed them freely. He kept himself well posted up inthe politics of the day, and was ready to discuss them with anyone whowould enter into the debate. 

He had a high appreciation of himself, and also a deep veneration forhis superiors. And thus it happened that, when in the presence of hisbetters, he maintained a certain sort of droll dignity in himself whiletreating them with the utmost deference. He was faithful in his dealingswith his numerous employers, all of whom he looked upon as so manyhelpless dependents under his protection, for whose well-being incertain respects he was strictly responsible. So much for his character. In circumstances he was a free man, living with his wife and children, who were also free, in a small house on Mr. Brudenell's estate, andsupporting his family by such a very great variety of labor as hadearned for him the title of "Professor of Odd Jobs. " It was young HermanBrudenell, when a boy, who gave him this title, which, from its singularappropriateness, stuck to him; for he could, as he expressed it himself, "do anything as any other man could do. " He could shoe a horse, doctor acow, mend a fence, make a boot, set a bone, fix a lock, draw a tooth, roof a cabin, drive a carriage, put up a chimney, glaze a window, lay ahearth, play a fiddle, or preach a sermon. He could do all thesethings, and many others besides too numerous to mention, and he did dothem for the population of the whole neighborhood, who, having noregular mechanics, gave this "Jack of all Trades" a plenty of work. Thisuniversal usefulness won for him, as I said, the title of "Professor ofOdd Jobs. " This was soon abbreviated to the simple "Professor, " whichhad a singular significance also when applied to one who, in addition toall his other excellencies, believed himself to be pretty well posted upin law, physic, and theology, upon either of which he would stop in hiswork to hold forth to anyone who would listen. 

Finally, there was another little peculiarity about the manner of theprofessor. In his excessive agreeability he would always preface hisanswer to any observation whatever with some sort of assent, such as"yes, sir, " or "yes, madam, " right or wrong. 

This morning the professor entered the presence of Mrs. Brudenell, hatin hand, smiling and respectful. 

"Well, Morris, who has brought you here this morning?" inquired thelady. 

"Yes, madam. I been thinkin' about you, and should a-been here 'forethis to see after your affairs, on'y I had to go over to ColonelMervin's to give one of his horses a draught, and then to stop at thecolored, people's meetin' house to lead the exercises, and afterwards tocall at the Miss Worthses to mend Miss Hannah's loom and put a few newspokes in Miss Nora's wheel. And so many people's been after me to dojobs that I'm fairly torn to pieces among um. And it's 'Professor' here, and 'Professor' there, and 'Professor' everywhere, till I think mysenses will leave me, ma'am. "

"Then, if you are so busy why do you come here, Morris?" said Mrs. Brudenell, who was far too dignified to give him his title. 

"Yes, madam. Why, you see, ma'am, I came, as in duty bound, to lookafter your affairs and see as they were all right, which they are not, ma'am. There's the rain pipes along the roof of the house leaking so thecistern never gets full of water, and I must come and solder them rightaway, and the lightning reds wants fastenin' more securely, and--"

"Well, but see Grainger, my overseer, about these things; do not troubleme with them. "

"Yes, madam. I think overseers ought to be called overlookers, becausethey oversee so little and overlook so much. Now, there's the hingesnearly rusted off the big barn door, and I dessay he never saw it. "

"Well, Morris, call his attention to that also; do whatever you findnecessary to be done, and call upon Grainger to settle with you. "

"Yes, madam. It wasn't on'y the rain pipes and hinges as wantedattention that brought me here, however, ma'am, "

"What was it, then? Be quick, if you please. I am very much occupiedthis morning. "

"Yes, madam. It was something I heard and felt it my duty to tell you;because, you see, ma'am, I think it is the duty of every honest--"

"Come, come, Morris, I have no time to listen to an oration from younow. In two words, what had you to tell me?" interrupted the ladyimpatiently. 

"Yes, madam. It were about young Mr. Herman, ma'am. "

"Mr. Brudenell, if you please, Morris. My son is the head of hisfamily. "

"Certainly, madam. Mr. Brudenell. "

"Well, what about Mr. Brudenell?"

"Yes, madam. You know he was away from home every day last spring andsummer. "

"I remember; he went to fish; he is very fond of fishing. "

"Certainly, madam; but he was out every day this autumn. "

"I am aware of that; he was shooting; he is an enthusiastic sportsman. "

"To be sure, madam, so he is; but he is gone every day this winter. "

"Of course; hunting; there is no better huntsman in the country than Mr. Brudenell. "

"That is very true, madam; do you know what sort of game he is a-huntin'of?" inquired the professor meaningly, but most deferentially. 

"Foxes, I presume, " said the lady, with a look of inquiry. 

"Yes, madam, sure enough; I suppose they is foxes, though in femaleform, " said the professor dryly, but still respectfully. 

"Whatever do you mean, Morris?" demanded the lady sternly. 

"Well, madam, if it was not from a sense of duty, I would not dare tospeak to you on this subject; for I think when a man presumes to meddlewith things above his speer, he--"

"I remarked to you before, Morris, that I had no time to listen to yourmoral disquisitions. Tell me at once, then, what you meant to insinuateby that strange speech, " interrupted the lady. 

"Yes, madam, certainly. When you said Mr. Brudenell was a hunting offoxes, I saw at once the correctness of your suspicions, madam; for theyis foxes. "

"Who are foxes?"

"Why, the Miss Worthses, madam. "

"The Miss Worths! the weavers! why, what on earth have they to do withwhat we nave been speaking of?"

"Yes, madam; the Miss Worthses is the foxes that Mr. Brudenell isa-huntin' of. "

"The Miss Worths? My son hunting the Miss Worths! What do you mean, sir?Take care what you say of Mr. Brudenell, Morris. "

"Yes, madam, certainly; I won't speak another word on the subject; and Ibeg your pardon for having mentioned it at all; which I did from a senseof duty to your family, madam, thinking you ought to know it; but I amvery sorry I made such a mistake, and again I beg your pardon, madam, and I humbly take my leave. " And with a low bow the professor turned todepart. 

"Stop, fool!" said Mrs. Brudenell. And the "fool" stopped and turned, hat in hand, waiting further orders. 

"Do you mean to say that Mr. Brudenell goes after those girls?" askedthe lady, raising her voice ominously. 

"Yes, madam; leastways, after Miss Nora. You see, madam, young gentlemenwill be young gentlemen, for all their mas can say or do; and when theblood is warm and the spirits is high, and the wine is in and the wit isout--"

"No preaching, I say! Pray, are you a clergyman or a barrister? Tell meat once what reason you have for saying that my son goes to Worths'cottage?"

"Yes, madam; I has seen him often and often along of Miss Nora a-walkingin the valley forest, when I have been there myself looking for herbsand roots to make up my vegetable medicines with. And I have seen him gohome with her. And at last I said, 'It is my bounden duty to go and tellthe madam. '"

"You are very sure of what you say?"

"Yes, madam, sure as I am of my life and my death. "

"This is very annoying! very! I had supposed Mr. Brudenell to have hadbetter principles. Of course, when a young gentleman of his positiongoes to see a girl of hers, it can be but with one object. I had thoughtHerman had better morals, and Hannah at least more sense! This is veryannoying! very!" said the lady to herself, as her brows contracted withanger. After a few moments spent in silent thought, she said:

"It is the girl Nora, you say, he is with so much?"

"Yes, madam. "

"Then go to the hut this very evening and tell that girl she must comeup here to-morrow morning to see me. I thank you for your zeal in myservice, Morris, and will find a way to reward you. And now you may domy errand. "

"Certainly, madam! My duty to you, madam, " said the professor, with alow bow, as he left the room and hurried away to deliver his message toNora Worth. 

"This is very unpleasant, " said the lady. "But since Hannah has no moreprudence than to let a young gentleman visit her sister, I must talk tothe poor, ignorant child myself, and warn her that she risks her goodname, as well as her peace of mind. "

CHAPTER VII. 

MOTHER- AND DAUGHTER-IN-LAW. 

 Your pardon, noble lady! My friends were poor but honest--so is my love; Be not offended, for it hurts him not That he is loved of me. My dearest madam, Let not your hate encounter with my love For loving where _you_ do. 

 --_Shakspere_. 

The poor sisters had just finished their afternoon meal, cleaned theirroom, and settled themselves to their evening's work. Nora was spinninggayly, Hannah weaving diligently--the whir of Nora's wheel keeping timeto the clatter of Hannah's loom, when the latch was lifted and HermanBrudenell, bringing a brace of hares in his hand, entered the hut. 

"There, Hannah, those are prime! I just dropped in to leave them, and tosay that it is certain my mother leaves for Washington on Saturday. OnSunday morning I shall bring my wife home; and you, too, Hannah; for ifyou will not consent to live with us, you must still stop with us untilyou and Gray are married and ready to go to the West, " he said, throwingthe game upon the table, and shaking hands with the sisters. His facewas glowing from exercise, and his eyes sparkling with joy. 

"Sit down, Mr. Brudenell, " said Hannah hospitably. 

The young man hesitated, and a look of droll perplexity passed over hisface as he said:

"Now don't tempt me, Hannah, my dear; don't ask me to stop this evening;and don't even let me do so if I wish to. You see I promised my motherto be home in time to meet some friends at dinner, and I am late now!Good-by, sister; good-by, sweet wife! Sunday morning, Mrs. HermanBrudenell, you will take the head of your own table at Brudenell Hall!"

And giving Hannah a cordial shake of the hand, and Nora a warm kiss, hehurried from the hut. 

When he had closed the door behind him, the sisters looked at eachother. 

"Think of it, Hannah! This is Thursday, and he says that he will take ushome on Sunday--in three days! Hannah, do you know I never beforebelieved that this would be! I always thought that to be acknowledged asthe wife of Herman Brudenell--placed at the head of his establishment, settled in that magnificent house, with superb furniture and splendiddresses, and costly jewels, and carriages, and horses, and servants toattend me, and to be called Mrs. Brudenell of Brudenell Hall, andvisited by the old country families--was a great deal too muchhappiness, and prosperity, and glory for poor me!"

"Do you believe it now?" inquired Hannah thoughtfully. 

"Why, yes! now that it draws so near. There is not much that can happenbetween this and Sunday to prevent it. I said it was only threedays--but in fact it is only two, for this is Thursday evening, and hewill take us home on Sunday morning; so you see there is only two wholedays--Friday and Saturday--between this and that!"

"And how do you feel about this great change of fortune? Are you stillfrightened, though no longer unbelieving?"

"No, indeed!" replied Nora, glancing up at the little looking-glass thathung immediately opposite to her wheel; "if I have pleased Herman, whois so fastidious, it is not likely that. I should disgust others. Andmind this, too: I pleased Herman in my homespun gown, and when I meethis friends at Brudenell Hall, I shall have all the advantages ofsplendid dress. No, Hannah, I am no longer incredulous or frightened. And if ever, when sitting at the head of his table when there is adinner party, my heart should begin to fail me, I will say to myself: 'Ipleased Herman--the noblest of you all, ' and then I know my courage willreturn. But, Hannah, won't people be astonished when they find out thatI, poor Nora Worth, am really and truly Mrs. Herman Brudenell! What willthey say? What will old Mrs. Jones say? And oh! what will the MissMervins say? I should like to see their faces when they hear it! for youknow it is reported that Colonel Mervin is to marry Miss Brudenell, andthat the two Miss Mervins are secretly pulling caps who shall takeHerman! Poor young ladies! won't they be dumfounded when they find outthat poor Nora Worth has had him all this time! I wonder how long itwill take them to get over the mortification, and also whether they willcall to see me. Do you think they will, Hannah?"

"I do not know, my dear. The Mervins hold their heads very high, "replied the sober elder sister. 

"Do they! Well, I fancy they have not much right to hold their headsmuch higher than the Brudenells of Brudenell Hall hold theirs. Hannah, do you happen to know who our first ancestor was?"

"Adam, my dear, I believe. ''

"Nonsense, Hannah; I do not mean the first father of all mankind--I meanthe head of our house. "

"Our house? Indeed, my dear, I don't even know who our grandfather was. "

"Fudge, Hannah, I am not talking of the Worths, who of course have nohistory. I am talking of our family--the Brudenells!"

"Oh!" said Hannah dryly. 

"And now do you know who our first ancestor was?"

"Yes; some Norman filibuster who came over to England with William theConqueror, I suppose. I believe from all that I have heard, that to havebeen the origin of most of the noble English families and old Marylandones. "

"No, you don't, neither. Herman says our family is much older than theConquest. They were a noble race of Saxon chiefs that held large sway inEngland from the time of the first invasion of the Saxons to that of theNorman Conquest; at which period a certain Wolfbold waged suchsuccessful war against the invader and held out so long and fought sofuriously as to have received the surname of 'Bred-in-hell!'"

"Humph! do you call that an honor, or him a respectable ancestor?"

"Yes, indeed! because it was for no vice or crime that they give himthat surname, but because it was said no man born of woman could haveexhibited such frantic courage or performed such prodigies of valor ashe did. Well, anyway, that was the origin of our family name. FromBred-in-hell it became Bredi-nell, then Bredenell, and finally, as itstill sounded rough for the name of a respectable family, they have inthese latter generations softened it down into Brudenell. So you see! Ishould like to detect the Mervins looking down upon us!" concluded Nora, with a pretty assumption of dignity. 

"But, my dear, you are not a Brudenell. "

"I don't care! My husband is, and Herman says a wife takes rank from herhusband! As Nora Worth, or as Mrs. Herman Brudenell, of course I am thevery same person; but then, ignorant as I may be, I know enough of theworld to feel sure that those who despised Nora Worth will not dare toslight Mrs. Herman Brudenell!"

"Take care! Take care, Nora, dear! 'Pride goeth before a fall, and ahaughty temper before destruction!'" said Hannah, in solemn warning. 

"Well, I will not be proud if I can help it; yet--how hard to help it!But I will not let it grow on me. I will remember my humble origin andthat I am undeserving of anything better. "

At this moment the latch of the door was raised and Jem Morris presentedhimself, taking off his hat and bowing low, as he said:

"Evening, Miss Hannah; evening, Miss Nora. Hopes you finds yourselveswell?"

"Why, law, professor, is that you? You have just come in time. Hannahwants you to put a new bottom in her tin saucepan and a new cover on herumbrella, and to mend her coffee-mill; it won't grind at all!" saidNora. 

"Yes, miss; soon's ever I gets the time. See, I've got a well to dig atColonel Mervin's, and a chimney to build at Major Blackistone's, and ahearth to lay at Commodore Burgh's, and a roof to put over old Mrs. Jones'; and see, that will take me all the rest of the week, " objectedJem. 

"But can't you take the things home with you and do them at night?"inquired Hannah. 

"Yes, miss; but you see there's only three nights more this week, and Iam engaged for all! To-night I've got to go and sit up long of old JemBrown's corpse, and to-morrow night to play the fiddle at Miss PollyHodges' wedding, and the next night I promised to be a waiter at thecollege ball, and even Sunday night aint free, 'cause our preacher issick and I've been invited to take his place and read a sermon and leadthe prayer! So you see I couldn't possibly mend the coffee-mill and therest till some time next week, nohow!"

"I tell you what, Morris, you have the monopoly of your line of businessin this neighborhood, and so you put on airs and make people wait. Iwish to goodness we could induce some other professor of odd jobs tocome and settle among us, " said Nora archly. 

"Yes, miss; I wish I could, for I am pretty nearly run offen my feet, "Jem agreed. "But what I was wishing to say to you, miss, " he added, "wasthat the madam sent me here with a message to you. "

"Who sent a message, Jem?"

"The madam up yonder, miss. "

"Oh! you mean Mrs. Brudenell! It was to Hannah, I suppose, in relationto work, " said Nora. 

"Yes, miss; but this time it was not to Miss Hannah; it was to you, MissNora. 'Go up to the hut on the hill, and request Nora Worth to come upto see me this evening. I wish to have a talk with her?' Such were themadam's words, Miss Nora. "

"Oh, Hannah!" breathed Nora, in terror. 

"What can she want with my sister?" inquired Hannah. 

"Well, yes, miss. She didn't say any further. And now, ladies, as I havedeclared my message, I must bid you good evening; as they expects meround to old uncle Jem Brown's to watch to-night. " And with a deep bowthe professor retired. 

"Oh, Hannah!" wailed Nora, hiding her head in her sister's bosom. 

"Well, my dear, what is the matter?"

"I am so frightened. "

"What at?"

"The thoughts of Mrs. Brudenell!"

"Then don't go. You are not a slave to be at that lady's beck and call, I reckon!"

"Yes, but I am Herman's wife and her daughter, and I will not slight herrequest! I will go, Hannah, though I had rather plunge into ice waterthis freezing weather than meet that proud lady!" said Nora, shivering. 

"Child, you need not do so! You are not bound! You owe no duty to Mrs. Brudenell, until Mr. Brudenell has acknowledged you as his wife and Mrs. Brudenell as her daughter. "

"Hannah, it may be so; yet she is my mother-in-law, being dear Herman'smother; and though I am frightened at the thought of meeting her, stillI love her; I do, indeed, Hannah! and my heart longs for her love!Therefore I must not begin by disregarding her requests. I will go! Butoh, Hannah! what can she want with me? Do you think it possible that shehas heard anything? Oh, suppose she were to say anything to me aboutHerman? What should I do!" cried Nora, her teeth fairly chattering withnervousness. 

"Don't go, I say; you are cold and trembling with fear; it is also aftersunset, too late for you to go out alone. "

"Yes; but, Hannah, I must go! I am not afraid of the night! I am afraidof her! But if you do not think it well for me to go alone, you can gowith me, you know. There will be no harm in that, I suppose?"

"It is a pity Herman had not stayed a little longer, we might have askedhim; I do not think he would have been in favor of your going. "

"I do not know; but, as there is no chance of consulting him, I must dowhat I think right in the case and obey his mother, " said Nora, risingfrom her position in Hannah's lap and going to make some change in hersimple dress. When she was ready she asked:

"Are you going with me, Hannah?"

"Surely, my child, " said the elder sister, reaching her bonnet andshawl. 

The weather was intensely cold, and in going to Brudenell the sistershad to face a fierce northwest wind. In walking through the valley theywere sheltered by the wood; but in climbing the hill upon the oppositeside they could scarcely keep their feet against the furious blast. 

They reached the house at last. Hannah remembered to go to the servants'door. 

"Ah, Hannah! they little think that when next I come to Brudenell itwill be in my own carriage, which will draw up at the main entrance, "said Nora, with exultant pride, as she blew her cold fingers while theywaited to be admitted. 

The door was opened by Jovial, who started back at the sight of thesisters and exclaimed:

"Hi, Miss Hannah, and Miss Nora, you here? Loramity sake come in andlemme shet the door. Dere, go to de fire, chillern! Name o' de law whatfetch you out dis bitter night? Wind sharp nuff to peel de skin rightoffen your faces!"

"Your mistress sent word that she wished to see Nora this evening, Jovial. Will you please to let her know that we are here?" asked Hannah, as she and her sister seated themselves beside the roaring hickory firein the ample kitchen fireplace. 

"Sartain, Miss Hannah! Anything to obligate the ladies, " said Jovial, ashe left the kitchen to do his errand. 

Before the sisters had time to thaw, their messenger re-entered, saying:

"Mistess will 'ceive Miss Nora into de drawing-room. "

Nora arose in trepidation to obey the summons. 

Jovial led her along a spacious, well-lighted passage, through an opendoor, on the left side of which she saw the dining-room and thedinner-table, at which Mr. Brudenell and his gentlemen guests still satlingering over their wine. His back was towards the door, so that hecould not see her, or know who was at that time passing. But as her eyesfell upon him, a glow of love and pride warmed and strengthened herheart, and she said:

"After all, he is my husband and this is my house! Why should I beafraid to meet the lady mother?"

And with a firm, elastic step Nora entered the drawing-room. At firstshe was dazzled and bewildered by its splendor and luxury. It was fittedup with almost Oriental magnificence. Her feet seemed to sink amongblooming flowers in the soft rich texture of the carpet. Her eyes fellupon crimson velvet curtains that swept in massive folds from ceiling tofloor; upon rare full-length pictures that filled up the recessesbetween the gorgeously draped windows; broad crystal mirrors above themarble mantel-shelves; marble statuettes wherever there was a corner tohold one; soft crimson velvet sofas, chairs, ottomans and stools; inlaidtables; papier-mache stands; and all the thousand miscellaneous vanitiesof a modern drawing-room. 

"And to think that all this is mine! and how little she dreams of it!"said Nora, in an awe-struck whisper to her own heart, as she gazedaround upon all this wealth until at last her eye fell upon the statelyform of the lady as she sat alone upon a sofa at the back of the room. 

"Come here, my girl, if you please, " said Mrs. Brudenell. 

Nora advanced timidly until she had reached to within a yard of thelady, when she stopped, courtesied, and stood with folded hands waiting, pretty much as a child would stand when called up before its betters forexamination. 

"Your name is Nora Worth, I believe, " said the lady. 

"My name is Nora, madam, " answered the girl. 

"You are Hannah Worth's younger sister?"

"Yes, madam. "

"Now, then, my girl, do you know why I have sent for you here to-night?"

"No, madam. "

"Are you quite sure that your conscience does not warn you?"

Nora was silent. 

"Ah, I have my answer!" remarked the lady in a low voice; then raisingher tone she said:

"I believe that my son, Mr. Herman Brudenell, is in the habit of dailyvisiting your house; is it not so?"

Nora looked up at the lady for an instant and then dropped her eyes. 

"Quite sufficient! Now, my girl, as by your silence you have admittedall my suppositions, I must speak to you very seriously. And in thefirst place I would ask you, if you do not know, that when a gentlemanof Mr. Brudenell's high position takes notice of a girl of your lowrank, he does so with but one purpose? Answer me!"

"I do not understand you, madam. "

"Very well, then, I will speak more plainly! Are you not aware, I wouldsay, that when Herman Brudenell visits Nora Worth daily for months hemeans her no good?"

Nora paused for a moment to turn this question over in her mind beforereplying. 

"I cannot think, madam, that Mr. Herman Brudenell could mean anythingbut good to any creature, however humble, whom he deigned to notice!"

"You are a natural fool or a very artful girl, one or the other!" saidthe lady, who was not very choice in her language when speaking in angerto her inferiors. 

"You admit by your silence that Mr. Brudenell has been visiting youdaily for months; and yet you imply that in doing so he means you noharm! I should think he meant your utter ruin!"

"Mrs. Brudenell!" exclaimed Nora, in a surprise so sorrowful andindignant that it made her forget herself and her fears, "you arespeaking of your own son, your only son; you are his mother, how can youaccuse him of a base crime?"

"Recollect yourself, my girl! You surely forget the presence in whichyou stand! Baseness, crime, can never be connected with the name ofBrudenell. But young gentlemen will be young gentlemen, and amusethemselves with just such credulous fools as you!" said the ladyhaughtily. 

"Although their amusement ends in the utter ruin of its subject? Do younot call that a crime?"

"Girl, keep your place, if you please! Twice you have ventured to callme Mrs. Brudenell. To you I am madam. Twice you have asked me questions. You are here to answer, not to ask!"

"Pardon me, madam, if I have offended you through my ignorance offorms, " said Nora, bowing with gentle dignity; for somehow or other shewas gaining self-possession every moment. 

"Will you answer my questions then; or continue to evade them?"

"I can answer you so far, madam--Mr. Brudenell has never attempted toamuse himself at the expense of Nora Worth; nor is she one to permitherself to become the subject of any man's amusement, whether he begentle or simple!"

"And yet he visits you daily, and you permit his visits! And this hasgone on for months! You cannot deny it--you do not attempt to deny it!"She paused, as if waiting some reply; but Nora kept silence. 

"And yet you say he is not amusing himself at your expense!"

"He is not, madam; nor would I permit anyone to do so!"

"I do not understand this! Girl! answer me! What are you to my son?"

Nora was silent. 

"Answer me!" said the lady severely. 

"I cannot, madam! Oh, forgive me, but I cannot answer you!" said Nora. 

The lady looked fixedly at her for a few seconds; something in thegirl's appearance startled her; rising, she advanced and pulled theheavy shawl from Nora's shoulders, and regarded her with an expressionof mingled hauteur, anger, and scorn. 

Nora dropped her head upon her breast and covered her blushing face withboth hands. 

"I am answered!" said the lady, throwing her shawl upon the floor andtouching the bell rope. 

Jovial answered the summons. 

"Put this vile creature out of the house, and if she ever dares to showher face upon these premises again send for a constable and have hertaken up, " said Mrs. Brudenell hoarsely and white with suppressed rage, as she pointed to the shrinking girl before her. 

"Come, Miss Nora, honey, " whispered the old man kindly, as he picked upthe shawl and put it over her shoulders and took her hand to lead herfrom the room; for, ah! old Jovial as well as his fellow-servants hadgood cause to know and understand the "white heat" of their mistress'anger. 

As with downcast eyes and shrinking form Nora followed her conductorthrough the central passage and past the dining-room door, she once moresaw Herman Brudenell still sitting with his friends at the table. 

"Ah, if he did but know what I have had to bear within the last fewminutes!" she said to herself as she hurried by. 

When she re-entered the kitchen she drew the shawl closer around hershivering figure, pulled the bonnet farther over her blushing face, andsilently took the arm of Hannah to return home. 

The elder sister asked no question. And when they had left the housetheir walk was as silent as their departure had been. It required alltheir attention to hold their course through the darkness of the night, the intensity of the cold and the fury of the wind. It was not untilthey had reached the shelter of their poor hut, drawn the fire-brandstogether and sat down before the cheerful blaze, that Nora threw herselfsobbing into the arms of her sister. 

Hannah gathered her child closer to her heart and caressed her insilence until her fit of sobbing had exhausted itself, and then sheinquired:

"What did Mrs. Brudenell want with you, dear?"

"Oh, Hannah, she had heard of Herman's visits here! She questioned andcross-questioned me. I would not admit anything, but then I could notdeny anything either. I could give her no satisfaction, because you knowmy tongue was tied by my promise. Then, she suspected me of being a badgirl. And she cross-questioned me more severely than ever. Still I couldgive her no satisfaction. And her suspicions seemed to be confirmed. Andshe looked at me--oh! with such terrible eyes, that they seemed to burnme up. I know, not only my poor face, but the very tips of my earsseemed on fire. And suddenly she snatched my shawl off me, and oh! ifher look was terrible before, it was consuming now! Hannah, I seemed toshrivel all up in the glare of that look, like some poor worm in theflame!" gasped Nora, with a spasmodic catch of her breath, as she oncemore clung to the neck of her sister. 

"What next?" curtly inquired Hannah. 

"She rang the bell and ordered Jovial to 'put this vile creature(meaning me) out'; and if ever I dared to show my face on the premisesagain, to send for a constable to take me up. "

"The insolent woman!" exclaimed the elder sister, with a burst of verynatural indignation. "She will have you taken up by a constable if everyou show your face there again, will he? We'll see that! I shall tellHerman Brudenell all about it to-morrow as soon as he comes! He must notwait until his another goes to Washington! He must acknowledge you ashis wife immediately. To-morrow morning he must take you up andintroduce you as such to his mother. If there is to be an explosion, letit come! The lady must be taught to know who it is that she has brandedwith ill names, driven from the house and threatened with a constable!She must learn that it is an honorable wife whom she has called a vilecreature; the mistress of the house whom she turned out of doors, andfinally that it is Mrs. Herman Brudenell whom she has threatened with aconstable!" Hannah had spoken with such vehemence and rapidity that Norahad found no opportunity to stop her. She could not, to use a commonphrase, "get in a word edgeways. " It was only now when Hannah paused forbreath that Nora took up the discourse with:

"Hannah! Hannah! Hannah! how you do go on! Tell Herman Brudenell abouthis own mother's treatment of me, indeed! I will never forgive you ifyou do, Hannah! Do you think it will be such a pleasant thing for himto hear? Consider how much it would hurt him, and perhaps estrange himfrom his mother too! And what! shall I do anything, or consent toanything, to set my husband against his own mother? Never, Hannah! Iwould rather remain forever in my present obscurity. Besides, consider, she was not so much to blame for her treatment of me! You know she neverimagined such a thing as that her son had actually married me, and--"

"I should have told her!" interrupted Hannah vehemently. "I should nothave borne her evil charges for one moment in silence! I should havesoon let her know who and what I was! I should have taken possession ofmy rightful place then and there! I should have rung a bell and sent forMr. Herman Brudenell and had it out with the old lady once for all!"

"Hannah, I could not! my tongue was tied by my promise, and besides--"

"It was not tied!" again dashed in the elder sister, whose unusualvehemence of mood seemed to require her to do all the talking herself. "Herman Brudenell--he is a generous fellow with all hisfaults!--released both you and myself from our promise, and told us atany time when we should feel that the marriage ought not any longer tobe kept secret it might be divulged. You should have told her!"

"What! and raised a storm there between mother and son when both thosehigh spirits would have become so inflamed that they would have saidthings to each other that neither could ever forgive? What! cause arupture between them that never could be closed? No, indeed, Hannah!Burned and shriveled up as I was with shame in the glare of that lady'sscornful look, I would not save myself at such a cost to him and--toher. For though you mayn't believe me, Hannah, I love that lady! I do inspite of her scorn! She is my husband's mother; I love her as I shouldhave loved my own. And, oh, while she was scorching me up with herscornful looks and words, how I did long to show her that I was not theunworthy creature she deemed me, but a poor, honest, loving girl, whoadored both her and her son, and who would, for the love I bore them--"

"Die, if necessary, I suppose! That is just about what foolish loverspromise to do for each other, " said the elder sister, impatiently. 

"Well, I would, Hannah; though that is not what I meant to say; I meantthat for the love I bore them I would so strive to improve in everyrespect that I should at last lift myself to their level and be worthyof them!"

"Humph! and you can rest under this ban of reproach!"

"No, not rest, Hannah! no one can rest in fire! and reproach is fire tome! but I can bear it, knowing it to be undeserved! For, Hannah, evenwhen I stood shriveling in the blaze of that lady's presence, thefeeling of innocence, deep in my heart, kept me from death! for I think, Hannah, if I had deserved her reproaches I should have dropped, blackened, at her feet! Dear sister, I am very sorry I told you anythingabout it. Only I have never kept anything from you, and so the force ofhabit and my own swelling heart that overflowed with trouble made me doit. Be patient now, Hannah! Say nothing to my dear husband of this. Intwo days the lady and her daughters will be in Washington. Herman willtake us home, acknowledge me and write to his mother. There will then beno outbreak; both will command their tempers better when they are apart!And there will be nothing said or done that need make an irreparablebreach between the mother and son, or between her and myself. Promiseme, Hannah, that you will say nothing to Herman about it to-morrow!"

"I promise you, Nora; but only because the time draws so very near whenyou will be acknowledged without any interference on my part. "

"And now, dear sister, about you and Reuben. Have you told him of Mr. Brudenell's offer?"

"Yes, dear. "

"And he will accept it?"

"Yes. "

"And when shall you be married?"

"The very day that you shall be settled in your new home, dear. We boththought that best. I do not wish to go to Brudenell, Nora. Nothing canever polish me into a fine lady; so I should be out of place there evenfor a day. Besides it would be awkward on account of the house-servants, who have always looked upon me as a sort of companion, because I havebeen their fellow-laborer in busy times. And they would not know how totreat me if they found me in the drawing-room or at the dinner-table!With you it is different; you are naturally refined! You have neverworked out of our own house; you are their master's wife, and they willrespect you as such. But as for me, I am sure I should embarrasseverybody if I should go to Brudenell. And, on the other hand, I cannotremain here by myself. So I have taken Reuben's advice and agreed towalk with him to the church the same hour that Mr. Brudenell takes youhome. "

"That will be early Sunday morning. "

"Yes, dear!"

"Well, God bless you, best of mother-sisters! May you have muchhappiness, " said Nora, as she raised herself from Hannah's knees toprepare for rest. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

END OF THE SECRET MARRIAGE. 

 Upon her stubborn brow alone Nor ruth nor mercy's trace is shown, Her look is hard and stern. 

 --_Scott_. 

After the departure of Nora Worth Mrs. Brudenell seated herself upon thesofa, leaned her elbow upon the little stand at her side, bowed her headupon her hand and fell into deep thought. Should she speak to HermanBrudenell of this matter? No! it was too late; affairs had gone too far;they must now take their course; the foolish girl's fate must be on herown head, and on that of her careless elder sister; they would both beruined, that was certain; no respectable family would ever employ eitherof them again; they would starve. Well, so much the better; they wouldbe a warning to other girls of their class, not to throw out their netsto catch gentlemen! Herman had been foolish, wicked even, but then youngmen will be young men; and then, again, of course it was that artfulcreature's fault! What could she, his mother, do in the premises? Notspeak to her son upon the subject, certainly; not even let him know thatshe was cognizant of the affair! What then? She was going away with herdaughters in a day or two! And good gracious, he would be left alone inthe house! to do as he pleased! to keep bachelor's hall! to bring thatgirl there as his housekeeper, perhaps, and so desecrate his sacred, patrimonial home! No, that must never be! She must invite and urge herson to accompany herself and his sisters to Washington. But if he shoulddecline the invitation and persist in his declination, what then? Why, as a last resort, she would give up the Washington campaign and remainat home to guard the sanctity of her son's house. 

Having come to this conclusion, Mrs. Brudenell once more touched thebell, and when Jovial made his appearance she said:

"Let the young ladies know that I am alone, and they may join me now. "

In a few minutes Miss Brudenell and Miss Eleanora entered the room, followed by the gentlemen, who had just left the dinner-table. 

Coffee was immediately served, and soon after the guests took leave. 

The young ladies also left the drawing-room, and retired to theirchambers to superintend the careful packing of some fine lace andjewelry. The mother and son remained alone together--Mrs. Brudenellseated upon her favorite back sofa and Herman walking slowly andthoughtfully up and down the whole length of the room. 

"Herman, " said the lady. 

"Well, mother?"

"I have been thinking about our winter in Washington. I have beenreflecting that myself and your sisters will have no natural protectorthere. "

"You never had any in Paris or in London, mother, and yet you got onvery well. "

"That was a matter of necessity, then; you were a youth at college; wecould not have your company; but now you are a young man, and yourplace, until you marry, is with me and my daughters. We shall need yourescort, dear Herman, and be happier for your company. I should be veryglad if I could induce to accompany us to the city. "

"And I should be very glad to do so, dear mother, but for theengagements that bind me here. "

She did not ask the very natural question of what those engagementsmight be. She did not wish to let him see that she knew or suspected hisattachment to Nora Worth, so she answered:

"You refer to the improvements and additions you mean, to add toBrudenell Hall. Surely these repairs had better be deferred until thespring, when the weather will be more favorable for such work?"

"My dear mother, all the alterations I mean to have made inside thehouse can very well be done this winter. By the next summer I hope tohave the whole place in complete order for you and my sisters to returnand spend the warm weather with me. "

The lady lifted her head. She had never known her son to be guilty ofthe least insincerity. If he had looked forward to the coming of herselfand her daughters to Brudenell, to spend the next summer, he could not, of course, be contemplating the removal of Nora Worth to the house. 

"Then you really expect us to make this our home, as heretofore, everysummer?" she said. 

"I have no right to expect such a favor, my dear mother: but I sincerelyhope for it, " said the son courteously. 

"But it is not every young bachelor living on his own estate who caresto be restrained by the presence of his mother and sisters; suchgenerally desire a life of more freedom and gayety than would be properwith ladies in the house, " said Mrs. Brudenell. 

"But I am not one of those, mother; you know that my habits are verydomestic. "

"Yes. Well, Herman, it may just as well be understood that myself andthe girls will return here to spend the summer. But now--the previousquestion! Can you not be prevailed on to accompany us to Washington?"

"My dear mother! anything on earth to oblige you I would do, ifpossible! But see! you go on Saturday, and this is Thursday night. Thereis but one intervening day. I could not make the necessary arrangements. I have much business to transact with my overseer; the whole year'saccounts still to examine, and other duties to do before I couldpossibly leave home. But I tell you what I can do; I can hurry up thesematters and join you in Washington at the end of the week, in full timeto escort you and my sisters to that grand national ball of which I hearthem incessantly talking. "

"And remain with us for the winter?"

"If you shall continue to wish it, and if I can find a builder, decorator, and upholsterer whom I can send down to Brudenell Hall, tomake the improvements, and whom I can trust to carry out my ideas. "

The lady's heart leaped for joy! It was all right then! he was willingto leave the neighborhood! he had no particular attractions here! hisaffections were not involved! his acquaintance with that girl had beenonly a piece of transient folly, of which he was probably sick andtired! These were her thoughts as she thanked her son for his readyacquiescence in her wishes. 

Meanwhile what were his purposes? To conciliate his mother by everyconcession except one! To let her depart from his house with the bestfeelings towards himself! then to write to her and announce hismarriage; plead his great love as its excuse, and implore herforgiveness; then to keep his word and go to Washington, taking Norawith him, and remain in the capital for the winter if his mother shouldstill desire him to do so. 

A few moments longer the mother and son remained in the drawing roombefore separating for the night--Mrs. Brudenell seated on her sofa andHerman walking slowly up and down the floor. Then the lady arose toretire, and Herman lighted a bedroom candle and put it in her hand. 

When she had bidden him good night and left the room, he resumed hisslow and thoughtful walk. It was very late, and Jovial opened the doorfor the purpose of entering and putting out the lights; but seeing hismaster still walking up and down the floor, he retired, and sat yawningwhile he waited in the hall without. 

The clock upon the mantel-piece struck one, and Herman Brudenell lightedhis own candle to retire, when his steps were arrested by a sound--acommon one enough at other hours and places, only unprecedented at thathour and in that place. It was the roll of carriage wheels upon thedrive approaching the house. 

Who could possibly be coming to this remote country mansion at oneo'clock at night? While Herman Brudenell paused in expectancy, taper inhand, Jovial once more opened the door and looked in. 

"Jovial, is that the sound of carriage wheels, or do I only fancy so?"asked the young man, "Carriage wheels, marser, coming right to de house, too!" answered thenegro. 

"Who on earth can be coming here at this hour of the night? We have notan acquaintance intimate enough with us to take such a liberty. And itcannot be a belated traveler, for we are miles from any public road. "

"Dat's jes' what I been a-sayin' to myself, sir. But we shall find outnow directly. "

While this short conversation went on, the carriage drew nearer andnearer, and finally rolled up to the door and stopped. Steps wererattled down, someone alighted, and the bell was rung. 

Jovial flew to open the door--curiosity giving wings to his feet. 

Mr. Brudenell remained standing in the middle of the drawing-room, attentive to what was going on without. He heard Jovial open the door;then a woman's voice inquired:

"Is this Brudenell Hall?"

"In course it is, miss. "

"And are the family at home?"

"Yes, miss, dey most, in gen'al, is at dis hour ob de night, dough deydon't expect wisiters. "

"Are all the family here?"

"Dey is, miss. "

"All right, coachman, you can take off the luggage, " said the woman, andthen her voice, sounding softer and farther off, spoke to someone stillwithin the carriage: "We are quite right, my lady, this is BrudenellHall; the family are all at home, and have not yet retired. Shall Iassist your ladyship to alight?"

Then a soft, low voice replied:

"Yes, thank you, Phoebe. But first give the dressing-bag to the man totake in, and you carry Fidelle. "

"Bub--bub--bub--bub--but, " stammered the appalled Jovial, with his armsfull of lap-dogs and dressing-bags that the woman had forced upon him, "you better some of you send in your names, and see if it won't beill-convenient to the fam'ly, afore you 'spects me to denounce a wholecoach full of travelers to my masser! Who is you all, anyhow, youngwoman?"

"My lady will soon let you know who she is! Be careful of that dog! youare squeezing her! and here take this shawl, and this bird-cage, andthis carpetbag, and these umbrellas, " replied the woman, overwhelminghim with luggage. "Here, coachman! bring that large trunk into the hall!And come now, my lady; the luggage is all right. "

As for Jovial, he dropped lap-dogs, bird-cages, carpetbags andumbrellas plump upon the hall floor, and rushed into the drawing-room, exclaiming:

"Masser, it's an invasion of de Goffs and Wandalls, or some other sichfurriners! And I think the milishy ought to be called out. "

"Don't be a fool, if you please. These are travelers who have missedtheir way, and are in need of shelter this bitter night. Go at once, andshow them in here, and then wake up the housekeeper to preparerefreshments, " said Mr. Brudenell. 

"It is not my wishes to act foolish, marser; but it's enough toconstunnate the sensoriest person to be tumbled in upon dis way at dishour ob de night by a whole raft of strangers--men, and women, and dogs, and cats, and birds included!" mumbled Jovial, as he went to do hiserrand. 

But his services as gentleman usher seemed not to be needed by thestranger, for as he left the drawing-room a lady entered, followed by awaiting maid. 

The lady was clothed in deep mourning, with a thick crape veilconcealing her face. 

As Herman advanced to welcome her she threw aside her veil, revealing apale, sad, young face, shaded by thick curls of glossy black hair. 

At the sight of that face the young man started back, the pallor ofdeath overspreading his countenance as he sunk upon the nearest sofa, breathing in a dying voice:

"Berenice! You here! Is it you? Oh, Heaven have pity on us!"

"Phoebe, go and find out the housekeeper, explain who I am, and havemy luggage taken up to my apartment. Then order tea in this room, " saidthe lady, perhaps with the sole view of getting rid of her attendant;for as soon as the latter had withdrawn she threw oft her bonnet, wentto the overwhelmed young man, sat down beside him, put her arms aroundhim, and drew his head down to meet her own, as she said, caressingly:

"You did not expect me, love? And my arrival here overcomes you. "

"I thought you had been killed in that railway collision, " came inhoarse and guttural tones from a throat that seemed suddenly parched toashes. 

"Poor Herman! and you had rallied from that shock of grief; but was notstrong enough to sustain a shock of joy! I ought not to have given youthis surprise! But try now to compose yourself, and give me welcome. Iam here; alive, warm, loving, hungry even! a woman, and no specter risenfrom the grave, although you look at me just as if I were one! DearHerman, kiss me! I have come a long way to join you!" she said, in avoice softer than the softest notes of the cushat dove. 

"How was it that you were not killed?" demanded the young man, with themanner of one who exacted an apology for a grievous wrong. 

"My dearest Herman, I came very near being crushed to death; all thatwere in the same carriage with me perished. I was so seriously injuredthat I was reported among the killed; but the report was contradicted inthe next day's paper. "

"How was it that you were not killed, I asked you?"

"My dearest one, I suppose it was the will of Heaven that I should notbe. I do not know any other reason. "

"Why did you not write and tell me you had escaped?"

"Dear Herman, how hoarsely you speak! And how ill you look! I fear youhave a very bad cold!" said the stranger tenderly. 

"Why did you not write and tell me of your escape, I ask you? Why didyou permit me to believe for months that you were no longer in life?"

"Herman, I thought surely if you should have seen the announcement of mydeath in one paper, you would see it contradicted, as it was, in half adozen others. And as for writing, I was incapable of that for months!Among other injuries, my right hand was crushed, Herman. And that it hasbeen saved at all, is owing to a miracle of medical skill!"

"Why did you not get someone else to write, then?"

"Dear Herman, you forget! There was no one in our secret! I had noconfidante at all! Besides, as soon as I could be moved, my father tookme to Paris, to place me under the care of a celebrated surgeon there. Poor father! he is dead now, Herman! He left me all his money. I am oneamong the richest heiresses in England. But it is all yours now, dearHerman. When I closed my poor father's eyes my hand was still too stiffto wield a pen! And still, though there was no longer any reason formystery, I felt that I would rather come to you at once than employ thepen of another to write. That is the reason, dear Herman, why I havebeen so long silent, and why at last I arrive so unexpectedly. I hope itis satisfactory. But what is the matter, Herman? You do not seem to beyourself! You have not welcomed me! you have not kissed me! you have noteven called me by my name, since I first came in! Oh! can it be possiblethat after all you are not glad to see me?" she exclaimed, rising fromher caressing posture and standing sorrowfully before him. Her face thathad looked pale and sad from the first was now convulsed by some passinganguish. 

He looked at that suffering face, then covered his eyes with his handsand groaned. 

"What is this, Herman? Are you sorry that I have come? Do you no longerlove me? What is the matter? Oh, speak to me!"

"The matter is--ruin! I am a felon, my lady! And it were better that youhad been crushed to death in that railway collision than lived to rejoinme here! I am a wretch, too base to live! And I wish the earth wouldopen beneath our feet and swallow us!"

The lady stepped back, appalled, and before she could think of a reply, the door opened and Mrs. Brudenell, who had been, awakened by thedisturbance, sailed into the room. 

"It is my mother!" said the young man, struggling for composure. Andrising, he took the hand of the stranger and led her to the elder lady, saying:

"This is the Countess of Hurstmonceux, madam; I commend her to yourcare. "

And having done this, he turned and abruptly left the room and thehouse. 

CHAPTER IX. 

THE VICTIM. 

 Good hath been born of Evil, many times, As pearls and precious ambergris are grown, Fruits of disease in pain and sickness sown, So think not to unravel, in thy thought, This mingled tissue, this mysterious plan, The Alchemy of Good through Evil wrought. 

 --_Tupper_. 

"But one more day, Hannah! but one more day!" gayly exclaimed NoraWorth, as she busied herself in setting the room in order on Fridaymorning. 

"Yes, but one more day in any event! For even if the weather shouldchange in this uncertain season of the year, and a heavy fall of snowshould stop Mrs. Brudenell's journey, that shall not prevent Mr. Brudenell from acknowledging you as his wife on Sunday! for it is quitetime this were done, in order to save your good name, which I will nothave longer endangered!" said the elder sister, with grim determination. 

And she spoke with good reason; it was time the secret marriage was madepublic, for the young wife was destined soon to become a mother. 

"Now, do not use any of these threats to Herman, when he comes thismorning, Hannah! Leave him alone; it will all be right, " said Nora, asshe seated herself at her spinning-wheel. 

Hannah was already seated at her loom; and there was but little moreconversation between the sisters, for the whir of the wheel and theclatter of the loom would have drowned their voices, so that to begintalking, they must have stopped working. 

Nora's caution to Hannah was needless; for the hours of the forenoonpassed away, and Herman did not appear. 

"I wonder why he does not come?" inquired Nora, straining her eyes downthe path for the thousandth time that day. 

"Perhaps, Nora, the old lady has been blowing him up, also, " suggestedthe elder sister. 

"No, no, no--that is not it! Because if she said a word to him about hisacquaintance with me, and particularly if she were to speak to him of meas she spoke to me of myself, he would acknowledge me that moment, andcome and fetch me home, sooner than have me wrongly accused for aninstant. No, Hannah, I will tell you what it is: it is his mother's lastday at home, and he is assisting her with her last preparations, " saidNora. 

"It may be so, " replied her sister; and once more whir and clatter put astop to conversation. 

The afternoon drew on. 

"It is strange he does not come!" sighed Nora, as she put aside herwheel, and went to mend the fire and hang on the kettle for theirevening meal. 

Hannah made no comment, but worked on; for she was in a hurry to finishthe piece of cloth then in the loom; and so she diligently drove hershuttle until Nora had baked the biscuits, fried the fish, made thetea, set the table, and called her to supper. 

"I suppose he has had a great deal to do, Hannah; but perhaps he may getover here later in the evening, " sighed Nora, as they took their seatsat the table. 

"I don't know, dear; but it is my opinion that the old lady, even if sheis too artful to blow him up about you, will contrive to keep him busyas long as possible to prevent his coming. "

"Now, Hannah, I wish you wouldn't speak so disrespectfully of Herman'smother. If she tries to prevent him from coming to see me, it is becauseshe thinks it her duty to do so, believing of me as badly as she does. "

"Yes! I do not know how you can breathe under such a suspicion! It wouldsmother me!"

"I can bear it because I know it to be false, Hannah; and soon to beproved so! Only one day more, Hannah! only one day!" exclaimed Nora, gleefully clapping her hands. 

They finished their supper, set the room in order, lighted the candle, and sat down to the knitting that was their usual evening occupation. 

Their needles were clicking merrily, when suddenly, in the midst oftheir work, footsteps were heard outside. 

"There he is now!" exclaimed Nora gayly, starting up to open the door. 

But she was mistaken; there he was not, but an old woman, covered withsnow. . 

"Law, Mrs. Jones, is this you?" exclaimed Nora, in a tone ofdisappointment and vexation. 

"Yes, child--don't ye see it's me? Le'me come in out'n the snow, "replied the dame, shaking herself and bustling in. 

"Why, law, Mrs. Jones, you don't mean it's snowing!" said Hannah, mending the fire, and setting a chair for her visitor. 

"Why, child, can't you see it's a-snowing--fast as ever it can? beensnowing ever since dark--soft and fine and thick too, which is a suresign it is agoing to be a deep fall; I shouldn't wonder if the snow wasthree or four feet deep to-morrow morning!" said Mrs. Jones, as sheseated herself in the warmest corner of the chimney and drew up thefront of her skirt to toast her shins. 

"Nora, dear, pour out a glass of wine for Mrs. Jones; it may warm herup, and keep her from taking cold, " said Hannah hospitably. 

Wine glass there was none in the hut, but Nora generously poured out alarge tea-cup full of fine old port that had been given her by Herman, and handed it to the visitor. 

Mrs. Jones' palate was accustomed to no better stimulant than weak toddymade of cheap whisky and water, and sweetened with brown sugar. Therefore to her this strong, sweet, rich wine was nectar. 

"Now, this ere is prime! Now, where upon the face of the yeth did youget this?" she inquired, as she sniffed and sipped the beverage, thatwas equally grateful to smell and taste. 

"A friend gave it to Nora, who has been poorly, you know; but Nora doesnot like wine herself, and I would advise you not to drink all that, forit would certainly get in your head, " said Hannah. 

"Law, child, I wish it would; if it would do my head half as much goodas it is a-doing of my insides this blessed minute! after being out inthe snow, too! Why, it makes me feel as good as preaching all over!"smiled the old woman, slowly sniffing and sipping the elixir of life, while her bleared eyes shone over the rim of the cup like phosphorus. 

"But how came you out in the snow, Mrs. Jones?" inquired Hannah. 

"Why, my dear, good child, when did ever I stop for weather? I've beena-monthly nussing up to Colonel Mervin's for the last four weeks, and mytime was up to-day, and so I sat out to come home; and first I stoppedon my way and got my tea along of Mrs. Spicer, at Brudenell, and now Is'pose I shall have to stop all night along of you. Can you 'commodateme?"

"Of course we can, " said Hannah. "You can sleep with me and Nora; youwill be rather crowded, but that won't matter on a cold night; anyway, it will be better than for you to try to get home in this snow-storm. "

"Thank y', children; and now, to pay you for that, I have got sich astory to tell you! I've been saving of it up till I got dry and warm, 'cause I knew if I did but give you a hint of it, you'd be for wantingto know all the particulars afore I was ready to tell 'em! But now I cansit myself down for a good comfortable chat! And it is one, too, I tellyou! good as a novel!" said the old woman, nodded her head knowingly. 

"Oh, what is it about, Mrs. Jones?" inquired Hannah and Nora in abreath, as they stopped knitting and drew their chairs nearer together. 

"Well, then, " said the dame, hitching her chair between the sisters, placing a hand upon each of their laps, and looking from one to theother--"what would ye give to know, now?"

"Nonsense! a night's lodging and your breakfast!" laughed Nora. 

"And ye'll get your story cheap enough at that! And now listen and openyour eyes as wide as ever you can!" said the dame, repeating heremphatic gestures of laying her hands heavily upon the knees of thevisitors and looking intently from one eager face to the other. "Mr. --Herman--Brudenell--have--got--a--wife! There, now! What d'yethink o' that! aint you struck all of a heap?"

No, they were not; Hannah's face was perfectly calm; Nora's indeed wasradiant, not with wonder, but with joy!

"There, Hannah! What did I tell you!" she exclaimed. "Mrs. Brudenell hasspoken to him and he has owned his marriage! But dear Mrs. Jones, tellme--was his mother very, very angry with him about it?" she inquired, turning to the visitor. 

"Angry? Dear heart, no! pleased as Punch! 'peared's if a great weightwas lifted offen her mind, " replied the latter. 

"There again, Hannah! What else did I tell you! Herman's mother is aChristian lady! She ill-used me only when she thought I was bad; nowHerman has owned his marriage, and she is pleased to find that it is allright! Now isn't that good? Oh, I know I shall love her, and make herlove me, too, more than any high-bred, wealthy daughter-in-law evercould! And I shall serve her more than any of her own children everwould! And she will find out the true worth of a faithful, affectionate, devoted heart, that would die to save her or her son, or live to serveboth! And she will love me dearly yet!" exclaimed Nora, with a glow ofenthusiasm suffusing her beautiful face. 

"Now, what upon the face of the yeth be that gal a-talking about? I wantto tell my story!" exclaimed Mrs. Jones, who had been listeningindignantly, without comprehending entirely Nora's interruption. 

"Oh, I beg your pardon, Mrs. Jones, " laughed the latter, "I should nothave jumped to the conclusion of your story. I should have let you tellit in your own manner; though I doubt if you know all about it either, from the way you talk. "

"Don't I, though! I should like to know who knows more. "

"Well, now, tell us all about it!"

"You've gone and put me out now, and I don't know where to begin. "

"Well, then, I'll help you out--what time was it that Mr. Brudenellacknowledged his private marriage?"

"There now; how did you know it was a private marriage? I never saidnothing about it being private yet! Hows'ever, I s'pose you so cleveryou guessed it, and anyway you guessed right; it were a privatemarriage. And when did he own up to it, you ask? Why, not as long as hecould help it, you may depend! Not until his lawful wife actilly aroveup at Brudenell Hall, and that was last night about one o'clock!"

"Oh, there you are very much mistaken; it was but seven in the evening, "said Nora. 

"There now, again! how do you know anything about it? Somebody's beenhere afore me and been a-telling of you, I suppose; and a-telling of youwrong, too!" petulantly exclaimed the old woman. 

"No, indeed, there has not been a soul here to-day; neither have weheard a word from Brudenell Hall! Still, I think you must be mistaken asto the hour of the wife's arrival, and perhaps as to other particulars, too; but excuse me, dear Mrs. Jones, and go on and tell the story. "

"Well, but what made you say it was seven o'clock when his wife arrove?"inquired the gossip. 

"Because that was really the hour that I went up to Brudenell. Hannahwas with me and knows it. "

"Law, honey, were you up to Brudenell yesterday evening?"

"To be sure I was! I thought you knew it! Haven't you just said that themarriage was not acknowledged until his wife arrived?"

"Why, yes, honey; but what's that to do with it? with you being there, Imean? Seems to me there's a puzzlement here between us? Did you staythere till one o'clock, honey?"

"Why, no, of course not! We came away at eight. "

"Then I'm blessed if I know what you're a-driving at! For, in course, ifyou come away at eight o'clock you couldn't a-seen her. "

"Seen whom?" questioned Nora. 

"Why, laws, his wife, child, as never arrove till one o'clock. "

Nora burst out laughing; and in the midst of her mirthfulnessexclaimed:

"There, now, Mrs. Jones, I thought you didn't know half the rights ofthe story you promised to tell us, and now I'm sure of it! Seems likeyou've heard Mr. Brudenell has acknowledged his marriage; but youhaven't even found out who the lady is! Well, I could tell you; but Iwon't yet, without his leave. "

"So you know all about it, after all? How did you find out?"

"Never mind how; you'll find out how I knew it when you hear the bride'sname, " laughed Nora. 

"But I have hearn the bride's name; and a rum un it is, too! Lady, LadyHoist? no! Hurl? no! Hurt? yes, that is it! Lady Hurt-me-so, that's thename of the lady he's done married!" said the old woman confidently. 

"Ha, ha, ha! I tell you what, Hannah, she has had too much wine, and ithas got into her poor old head!" laughed Nora, laying her handcaressingly upon the red-cotton handkerchief that covered the gray hairof the gossip. 

"No, it aint, nuther! I never drunk the half of what you gin me! I putit up there on the mantel, and kivered it over with the brasscandlestick, to keep till I go to bed. No, indeed! my head-piece is asclear as a bell!" said the old woman, nodding. 

"But what put it in there, then, that Mr. Herman Brudenell has married alady with a ridiculous name?" laughed Nora. 

"Acause he have, honey! which I would a-told you all about it ef youhadn't a-kept on, and kept on, and kept on interrupting of me!"

"Nora, " said Hannah, speaking for the first time in many minutes, andlooking very grave, "she has something to tell, and we had better lether tell it. "

"Very well, then! I'm agreed! Go on, Mrs. Jones!"

"Hem-m-m!" began Mrs. Jones, loudly clearing her throat. "Now I'll tellyou, jest as I got it, this arternoon, first from Uncle Jovial, and thenfrom Mrs. Spicer, and then from Madam Brudenell herself, and last of allfrom my own precious eyesight! 'Pears like Mr. Herman Brudenell fell inlong o' this Lady Hurl-my-soul--Hurt-me-so, I mean, --while he was outyonder in forring parts. And 'pears she was a very great lady indeed, and a beautiful young widder besides. So she and Mr. Brudenell, theyfell in love long of each other. But law, you see her kinfolks wasbitter agin her a-marrying of him--which they called him a commoner, asisn't true, you know, 'cause he is not one of the common sort atall--though I s'pose they being so high, looked down upon him as sich. Well, anyways, they was as bitter against her marrying of him, as hiskinsfolks would be agin him a-marrying of you. And, to be sure, being ofa widder, she a-done as she pleased, only she didn't want to give nooffense to her old father, who was very rich and very proud of her, whowas his onliest child he ever had in the world; so to make a longrigamarole short, they runned away, so they did, Mr. Brudenell and her, and they got married private, and never let the old man know it long asever he lived--"

"Hannah! what is she talking about?" gasped Nora, who heard the words, but could not take in the sense of this story. 

"Hush! I do not know yet, myself; there is some mistake! listen, "whispered Hannah, putting her arms over her young sister's shoulders, for Nora was then seated on the floor beside Hannah's chair, with herhead upon Hannah's lap. Mrs. Jones went straight on. 

"And so that was easy enough, too; as soon arter they was married, Mr. Herman Brudenell, you know, he was a-coming of age, and so he had to behome to do business long of his guardeens, and take possession of his'states and so on; and so he come, and kept his birthday last April!And--"

"Hannah! Hannah! what does this all mean? It cannot be true! I know itis not true! And yet, oh, Heaven! every word she speaks goes through myheart like a red hot spear! Woman! do you mean to say that Mr. --Mr. Herman Brudenell left a wife in Europe when he came back here?" criedNora, clasping her hands in vague, incredulous anguish. 

"Hush, hush, Nora, be quiet, my dear. The very question you ask doeswrong to your--to Herman Brudenell, who with all his faults is still thesoul of honor, " murmured Hannah soothingly. 

"Yes, I know he is; and yet--but there is some stupid mistake, " sighedNora, dropping her head upon her sister's lap. 

Straight through this low, loving talk went the words of Mrs. Jones:

"Well, now, I can't take upon myself to say whether it was Europe orLondon, or which of them outlandish places; but, anyways, in some on 'emhe did leave his wife a-living along of her 'pa. But you see 'bout amonth ago, her 'pa he died, a-leaving of all his property to hisonliest darter, Lady Hoist, Hurl, Hurt, Hurt-my-toe. No! Hurt-me-so, Lady Hurt-me-so! I never can get the hang of her outlandish name. Well, then you know there wa'n't no call to keep the marriage secret no more. So what does my lady do but want to put a joyful surprise on the top ofher husband; so without writing of him a word of what she was a-gwine todo, soon as ever the old man was buried and the will read, off she setsand comes over the sea to New York, and took a boat there for Baymouth, and hired of a carriage and rid over to Brudenell Hall, and arrove thereat one o'clock last night, as I telled you afore!"

"Are you certain that all this is true?" murmured Hannah, in a huskyundertone. 

"Hi, Miss Hannah, didn't Jovial, and Mrs. Spicer, and Madam Brudenellherself tell me? And besides I seen the young cre'tur' myself, with myown eyes, dressed in deep mourning, which it was a fine black crapedress out and out, and a sweet pretty cre'tur' she was too, only sopale!"

"Hannah!" screamed Nora, starting up, "it is false! I know it is false!but I shall go raving mad if I do not prove it so!" And she rushed tothe door, tore it open, and ran out into the night and storm. 

"What in the name of the law ails her?" inquired Mrs. Jones. 

"Nora! Nora! Nora!" cried Hannah, running after her. "Come back! comein! you will get your death! Are you crazy? Where are you going in thesnowstorm this time of night, without your bonnet and shawl, too?"

"To Brudenell Hall, to find out the rights of this story" were the wordsthat came from a great distance wafted by the wind. 

"Come back! come back!" shrieked Hannah. But there was no answer. 

Hannah rushed into the hut, seized her own bonnet and shawl and Nora's, and ran out again. 

"Where are you going? What's the matter? What ails that girl?" cried oldMrs. Jones. 

Hannah never even thought of answering her, but sped down the narrowpath leading into the valley, and through it up towards Brudenell asfast as the dark night, the falling snow, and the slippery ground wouldpermit; but it was too late; the fleet-footed Nora was far in advance. 

CHAPTER X. 

THE RIVALS. 

 One word-yes or no! and it means Death or life! Speak, are you his wife?

 --_Anon_. 

Heedless as the mad, of night, of storm, and danger, Nora hurrieddesperately on. She was blinded by the darkness and smothered by thethickly-falling snow, and torn by the thorns and briars of thebrushwood; but not for these impediments would the frantic girl abateher speed. She slipped often, hurt herself sometimes, and once she felland rolled down the steep hill-side until stopped by a clump of cedars. But she scrambled up, wet, wounded, and bleeding, and tore on, throughthe depths of the valley and up the opposite heights. Panting, breathless, dying almost, she reached Brudenell Hall. 

The house was closely shut up to exclude the storm, and outside thestrongly barred window-shutters there was a barricade of drifted snow. The roofs were all deeply covered with snow, and it was only by itsfaint white glare in the darkness that Nora found her way to the house. Her feet sank half a leg deep in the drifts as she toiled on towards theservants' door. All was darkness there! if there was any light, it wastoo closely shut in to gleam abroad. 

For a moment Nora leaned against the wall to recover a little strength, and then she knocked. But she had to repeat the summons again and againbefore the door was opened. Then old Jovial appeared--his mouth and eyeswide open with astonishment at seeing the visitor. 

"Name o' de law, Miss Nora, dis you? What de matter? Is you clean tukleave of your senses to be a-comin' up here, dis hour of de night insnowstorm?" he cried. 

"Let me in, Jovial! Is Mr. Herman Brudenell at home?" gasped Nora, aswithout waiting for an answer she pushed past him and sunk into thenearest chair. 

"Marser Bredinell home? No, miss! Nor likewise been home since late lastnight. He went away' mediately arter interdoocing de young madam to deole one; which she tumbled in upon us with a whole raft of waitingmaids, and men, and dogs, and birds, and gold fishes, and debil knowswhat all besides, long arter midnight last night--and so he hasn't beenhearn on since, and de fambly is in de greatest 'stress and anxiety. Particular she, poor thing, as comed so far to see him! And we no mores'picioning as he had a wife, nor anything at all, 'til she tumbledright in on top of us! Law, Miss Nora, somefin werry particular musthave fetch you out in de snow to-night, and 'deed you do look like youhad heard bad news! Has you hearn anything 'bout him, honey?"

"Is it true, then?" moaned Nora, in a dying tone, without heeding hislast question. 

"Which true, honey?"

"About the foreign lady coming here last night and claiming to be hiswife?"

"As true as gospel, honey--which you may judge the astonishment is puton to us all. "

"Jovial, where is the lady?"

"Up in de drawing-room, honey, if she has not 'tired to her chamber. "

"Show me up there, Jovial, I must see her for myself, " Nora wailed, withher head fallen upon her chest. 

"Now, sure as the world, honey, you done heard somefin 'bout de pooryoung marser? Is he come to an accident, honey?" inquired the man veryuneasily. 

"Who?" questioned Nora vaguely. 

"The young marser, honey; Mr. Herman Brudenell, chile!"

"What of him?" cried Nora--a sharp new anxiety added to her woe. 

"Why, law, honey, aint I just been a-telling of you? In one half an hourarter de forein lady tumbled in, young marse lef' de house an' haintbeen seen nor heard on since. I t'ought maybe you'd might a hearn what'sbecome of him. It is mighty hard on her, poor young creatur, to befairly forsok de very night she come. "

"Ah!" cried Nora, in the sharp tones of pain--"take me to that lady atonce! I must, must see her! I must hear from her own lips--the truth!"

"Come along then, chile! Sure as the worl' you has hearn somefin, doughyou won't tell me; for I sees it in your face; you's as white as asheet, an' all shakin' like a leaf an' ready to drop down dead! Youwon't let on to me; but mayhaps you may to her, " said Jovial, as he ledthe way along the lighted halls to the drawing-room door, which, heopened, announcing:

"Here's Miss Nora Worth, mistess, come to see Lady Hurt-my-soul. "

And as soon as Nora, more like a ghost than a living creature, hadglided in, he shut the door, went down on his knees outside and appliedhis ear to the key-hole. 

Meanwhile Nora found herself once more in the gorgeously furnished, splendidly decorated, and brilliantly lighted drawing room that had beenthe scene of her last night's humiliation. But she did not think of thatnow, in this supreme crisis of her fate. 

Straight before her, opposite the door by which she entered, was aninteresting tableau, in a dazzling light--it was a sumptuous firesidepicture--the coal-fire glowing between the polished steel bars of thewide grate, the white marble mantel-piece, and above that, reaching tothe lofty ceiling, a full-length portrait of Herman Brudenell; beforethe fire an inlaid mosaic table, covered with costly books, work-boxes, hand-screens, a vase of hot-house flowers, and other elegant trifles ofluxury; on the right of this, in a tall easy-chair, sat Mrs. Brudenell;on this side sat the Misses Brudenell; these three ladies were alldressed in slight mourning, if black silk dresses and white lace collarscan be termed such; and they were all engaged in the busy idleness ofcrochet work; but on a luxurious crimson velvet sofa, drawn up to theleft side of the fire, reclined a lady dressed in the deepest mourning, and having her delicate pale, sad face half veiled by her long, softblack ringlets. 

While Nora gazed breathlessly upon this pretty creature, whom sherecognized at once as the stranger, Mrs. Brudenell slowly raised herhead and stared at Nora. 

"You here, Nora Worth! How dare you? Who had the insolence to let youin?" she said, rising and advancing to the bell-cord. But before shecould pull it Nora Worth lifted her hand with that commanding powerdespair often lends to the humblest, and said:

"Stop, madam, this is no time to heap unmerited scorn upon one crushedto the dust already, and whose life cannot possibly offend you or cumberthe earth much longer. I wish to speak to that lady. "

"With me!" exclaimed Lady Hurstmonceux, rising upon her elbow and gazingwith curiosity upon the beautiful statue that was gliding toward her asif it were moved by invisible means. 

Mrs. Brudenell paused with her hand upon the bell-tassel and looked atNora, whose lovely face seemed to have been thus turned to stone in somemoment of mortal suffering, so agonized and yet so still it looked! Herhair had fallen loose and hung in long, wet, black strings about herwhite bare neck, for she had neither shawl nor bonnet; her clothes weresoaked with the melted snow, and she had lost one shoe in her wild nightwalk. 

Mrs. Brudenell shuddered with aversion as she looked at Nora; when shefound her voice she said:

"Do not let her approach you, Berenice. She is but a low creature; notfit to speak to one of the decent negroes even; and besides she iswringing wet and will give you a cold. "

"Poor thing! she will certainly take one herself, mamma; she looks toomiserable to live! If you please, I would rather talk with her! Comehere, my poor, poor girl! what is it that troubles you so? Tell me! CanI help you? I will, cheerfully, if I can. " And the equally "poor" lady, poor in happiness as Nora herself, put her hand in her pocket and drewforth an elegant portmonnaie of jet. 

"Put up your purse, lady! It is not help that I want--save from God! Iwant but a true answer to one single question, if you will give it tome. "

"Certainly, I will, my poor creature; but stand nearer the fire; it willdry your clothes while we talk. "

"Thank you, madam, I do not need to. "

"Well, then, ask me the question that you wish to have answered. Don'tbe afraid, I give you leave, you know, " said the lady kindly. 

Nora hesitated, shivered, and gasped; but could not then ask thequestion that was to confirm her fate; it was worse than throwing thedice upon which a whole fortune was staked; it was like giving thesignal for the ax to fall upon her own neck. At last, however, it came, in low, fearful, but distinct words:

"Madam, are you the wife of Mr. Herman Brudenell?"

"Nora Worth, how dare you? Leave the room and the house this instant, before I send for a constable and have you taken away?" exclaimed Mrs. Brudenell, violently pulling at the bell-cord. 

"Mamma, she is insane, poor thing! do not be hard on her, " said LadyHurstmonceux gently; and then turning to poor Nora she answered, in themanner of one humoring a maniac:

"Yes, my poor girl, I am the wife of Mr. Herman Brudenell. Can I doanything for you?"

"Nothing, madam, " was the answer that came sad, sweet, and low as thewail of an Aeolian harp swept by the south wind. 

The stranger lady's eyes were bent with deep pity upon her; but beforeshe could speak again Mrs. Brudenell broke into the discourse byexclaiming:

"Do not speak to her, Berenice! I warned you not to let her speak toyou, but you would not take my advice, and now you have been insulted. "

"But, mamma, she is insane, poor thing; some great misery has turned herbrain; I am very sorry for her, " said the kind-hearted stranger. 

"I tell you she is not! She is as sane as you are! Look at her! Not inthat amazed, pitying manner, but closely and critically, and you willsee what she is; one of those low creatures who are the shame of womenand the scorn of men. And if she has misery for her portion, she hasbrought it upon herself, and it is a just punishment. "

The eyes of Lady Hurstmonceux turned again upon the unfortunate youngcreature before her, and this time she did examine her attentively, letting her gaze rove over her form. 

This time Nora did not lift up her hands to cover her burning face; thatmarble face could never burn or blush again; since speaking her lastwords Nora had remained standing like one in a trance, stone still, withher head fallen upon her breast, and her arms hanging listlessly by herside. She seemed dead to all around her. 

Not so Lady Hurstmonceux; as her eyes roved over this form of stone herpale face suddenly flushed, her dark eyes flashed, and she sprang upfrom the sofa, asking the same question that Mrs. Brudenell had put theevening before. 

"Girl! what is it to you whether Mr. Brudenell has a wife or not? Whatare you to Mr. Herman Brudenell?"

"Nothing, madam; nothing for evermore, " wailed Nora, without looking upor changing her posture. 

"Humph! I am glad to hear it, I am sure!" grunted Mrs. Brudenell. 

"Nothing? you say; nothing?" questioned Lady Hurstmonceux. 

"Nothing in this world, madam; nothing whatever! so be at ease. " It wasanother wail of the storm-swept heart-strings. 

"I truly believe you; I ought to have believed without asking you; butwho, then, has been your betrayer, my poor girl?" inquired the youngmatron in tones of deepest pity. 

This question at length shook the statue; a storm passed through her;she essayed to speak, but her voice failed. 

"Tell me, poor one; and I will do what I can to right your wrongs. Whois it?"

"Myself!" moaned Nora, closing her eyes as if to shut out all light andlife, while a spasm drew back the corners of her mouth and convulsed herface. 

"Enough of this, Berenice! You forget the girls!" said Mrs. Brudenell, putting her hand to the bell and ringing again. 

"I beg your pardon, madam; I did indeed forget the presence of theinnocent and happy in looking upon the erring and wretched, " said LadyHurstmonceux. 

"That will do, " said the elder lady. "Here is Jovial at last! Why didyou not come when I first rang?" she demanded of the negro, who nowstood in the door. 

"I 'clare, mist'ess, I never heerd it de fust time, madam. "

"Keep your ears open in future, or it will be the worse for you! And nowwhat excuse can you offer for disobeying my express orders, and not onlyadmitting this creature to the house, but even bringing her to ourpresence?" demanded the lady severely. 

"I clare 'fore my 'vine Marster, madam, when Miss Nora come in de stormto de kitchen-door, looking so wild and scared like, and asked to see deyoung madam dere, I t'ought in my soul how she had some news of de youngmarster to tell! an' dat was de why I denounced her into disdrawin'-room. "

"Do not make such a mistake again! if you do I will make you sufferseverely for it! And you, shameless girl! if you presume to set foot onthese premises but once again, I will have you sent to the work-house asa troublesome vagrant. "

Nora did not seem to hear her; she had relapsed into her stony, trance-like stupor. 

"And now, sir, since you took the liberty of bringing her in, put herout--out of the room, and out of the house!" said Mis. Brudenell. 

"Mamma! what! at midnight! in the snow-storm?" exclaimed LadyHurstmonceux, in horror. 

"Yes! she shall not desecrate the bleakest garret, or the lowest cellar, or barest barn on the premises!"

"Mamma! It would be murder! She would perish!" pleaded the young lady. 

"Not she! Such animals are used to exposure! And if she and all like herwere to 'perish, ' as you call it, the world would be so much the betterfor it! They are the pests of society!"

"Mamma, in pity, look at her! consider her situation! She would surelydie! and not alone, mamma! think of that!" pleaded Berenice. 

"Jovial! am I to be obeyed or not?" sternly demanded the elder lady. 

"Come, Miss Nora; come, my poor, poor child, " said Jovial, in a lowtone, taking the arm of the miserable girl, who turned, mechanically, tobe led away. 

"Jovial, stop a moment! Mrs. Brudenell, I have surely some littleauthority in my husband's house; authority that I should be ashamed toclaim in the presence of his mother, were it not to be exercised in thecause of humanity. This girl must not leave the house to-night, " saidBerenice respectfully, but firmly. 

"Lady Hurstmonceux, if you did but know what excellent cause you have toloathe that creature, you would not oppose my orders respecting her; ifyou keep her under your roof this night you degrade yourself; and, finally, if she does not leave the house at once I and my daughtersmust--midnight and snow-storm, notwithstanding. We are not accustomed todomicile with such wretches, " said the old lady grimly. 

Berenice was not prepared for this extreme issue; Mrs. Brudenell'sthreat of departing with her daughters at midnight, and in the storm, shocked and alarmed her; and the other words reawakened her jealousmisgivings. Dropping the hand that she had laid protectingly upon Nora'sshoulder, she said:

"It shall be as you please, madam. I shall not interfere again. "

This altercation had now aroused poor Nora to the consciousness that sheherself was a cause of dispute between the two ladies; so putting herhand to her forehead and looking around in a bewildered way, she said:

"No; it is true; I have no right to stop here now; I will go!"

"Jovial, " said Berenice, addressing the negro, "have you a wife and acabin of your own?"

"Yes, madam; at your sarvice. "

"Then let it be at my service in good earnest to-night, Jovial; takethis poor girl home, and ask your wife to take care of her to-night; andreceive this as your compensation, " she said, putting a piece of gold inthe hand of the man. 

"There can be no objection to that, I suppose, madam?" she inquired ofMrs. Brudenell. 

"None in the world, unless Dinah objects; it is not every honest negrowoman that will consent to have a creature like that thrust upon her. Take her away, Jovial!"

"Come, Miss Nora, honey; my ole 'oman aint agwine to turn you away foryour misfortins: we leabes dat to white folk; she'll be a mother to you, honey; and I'll be a father; an' I wish in my soul as I knowed de man aswronged you; if I did, if I didn't give him a skin-full ob broken bonesif he was as white as cotton wool, if I didn't, my name aint Mr. JovialBrudenell, esquire, and I aint no gentleman. And if Mr. Reuben Graydon't hunt him up and punish him, he aint no gentleman, neither!" saidJovial, as he carefully led his half fainting charge along the passagesback to the kitchen. 

The servants had all gone to bed, except Jovial, whose duty it was, asmajor-domo, to go all around the house the last thing at night to fastenthe doors and windows and put out the fires and lights. So when theyreached the kitchen it was empty, though a fine fire was burning in theample chimney. 

"There, my poor hunted hare, you sit down there an' warm yourself good, while I go an' wake up my ole 'oman, an' fetch her here to get somethinghot for you, afore takin' of you to de cabin, an' likewise to make afire dere for you; for I 'spects Dinah hab let it go out, " said thekind-hearted old man, gently depositing his charge upon a seat in thechimney corner and leaving her there while he went to prepare for hercomfort. 

When she was alone Nora, who had scarcely heeded a word of hisexhortation, sat for a few minutes gazing woefully into vacancy; thenshe put her hand to her forehead, passing it to and fro, as if to clearaway a mist--a gesture common to human creatures bewildered with sorrow;then suddenly crying out:

"My Lord! It is true! and I have no business here! It is a sin and ashame to be here! or anywhere! anywhere in the world!" And throwing upher arms with a gesture of wild despair, she sprang up, tore open thedoor, and the second time that night rushed out into the storm anddarkness. 

The warm, light kitchen remained untenanted for perhaps twenty minutes, when Jovial, with his Dinah on his arm and a lantern in his hand, entered, Jovial grumbling:

"Law-a-mity knows, I don't see what she should be a-wantin' to come herefor! partic'lar arter de treatment she 'ceived from ole mis'tess las'night! tain't sich a par'dise nohow for nobody--much less for she! Hi, 'oman!" he suddenly cried, turning the rays of the lantern in alldirections, though the kitchen was quite light enough without them. 

"What de matter now, ole man?" asked Dinah. 

"Where Nora? I lef' her here an' she aint here now! where she gone?"

"Hi, ole man, what you ax me for? how you 'spect I know?"

"Well, I 'clare ef dat don't beat eberyting!"

"Maybe she done gone back in de house ag'in!" suggested Dinah. 

"Maybe she hab; I go look; but stop, first let me look out'n de door tosee if she went away, " said Jovial, going to the door and holding thelantern down near the ground. 

"Yes, Dinah, 'oman, here day is; little foot-prints in de snow a-goin'away from de house an' almost covered up now! She done gone! Now don'tdat beat eberything? Now she'll be froze to death, 'less I goes out inde storm to look for her; an' maybe she'll be froze anyway; for dere'sno sartainty 'bout my findin' of her. Now aint dat a trial for anycolored gentleman's narves! Well den, here goes! Wait for me here, ole'omen, till I come back, and if I nebber comes, all I leabes is yourn, you know, " sighed the old man, setting down the lantern and beginning tobutton up his great coat preparatory to braving the storm. 

But at this moment a figure came rushing through the snow towards thekitchen door. 

"Here she is now; now, ole 'oman! get de gruel ready!" exclaimed Jovial, as the snow-covered form rushed in. "No, it aint, nyther! Miss Hannah!My goodness, gracious me alibe, is all de worl' gone ravin', starin', 'stracted mad to-night? What de debil fotch you out in de storm atmidnight?" he asked, as Hannah Worth threw off her shawl and stood intheir midst. 

"Oh, Jovial! I am looking for poor Nora! Have you seen anything of her?"asked Hannah anxiously. 

"She was here a-sittin' by dat fire, not half an hour ago. And I lef herto go and fetch my ole 'oman to get somefin hot, and when I come back, jes' dis wery minute, she's gone!"

"Where, where did she go?" asked Hannah, clasping hear hands in theagony of her anxiety. 

"Out o' doors, I see by her little foot-prints a-leading away from dedoor; dough I 'spects dey's filled up by dis time. I was jes' agwine outto look for her. "

"Oh, bless you, Jovial!"

"Which way do you think she went, Miss Hannah?"

"Home again, I suppose, poor child. "

"It's a wonder you hadn't met her. "

"The night is so dark, and then you know there is more than one pathleading from Brudenell down into the valley. And if she went that wayshe took a different path from the one I came by. "

"I go look for her now! I won't lose no more time talkin', " and the oldman clapped his hat upon his head and picked up his lantern. 

"I will go with you, Jovial, " said Nora's sister. 

"No, Miss Hannah, don't you 'tempt it; tain't no night for no 'oman tobe out. "

"And dat a fact, Miss Hannah! don't you go! I can't 'mit of it! You stayhere long o' me till my ole man fines her and brings her back here; an'I'll have a bit of supper ready, an' you'll both stop wid us all night, "suggested Dinah. 

"I thank you both, but I cannot keep still while Nora is in danger! Imust help in the search for her, " insisted Hannah, with the obstinacy ofa loving heart, as she wrapped her shawl more closely around hershoulders and followed the old man out in the midnight storm. It wasstill snowing very fast. Her guide went a step in front with thelantern, throwing a feeble light upon the soft white path that seemed tosink under their feet as they walked. The old man peered about on theright and left and straight before him, so as to miss no object in hisway that might be Nora. 

"Jovial, " said Hannah, as they crept along, "is it true about the youngforeign lady that arrived here last night and turned out to be the wifeof Mr. Herman?"

"All as true as gospel, honey, " replied the old man, who, in his loveof gossip, immediately related to Hannah all the particulars of thearrival of Lady Hurstmonceux and the flight of Herman Brudenell. "Seemslike he run away at the sight of his wife, honey; and 'pears like shethinks so too, 'cause she's taken of it sorely to heart, scarce' holdin'up her head since. And it is a pity for her, too, poor young thing; forshe's a sweet perty young cre'tur', and took Miss Nora's part like anangel when de old madam was a-callin' of her names, and orderin' of herout'n de house. "

"Calling her names! ordering her out of the house! Did Mrs. Brudenelldare to treat Nora Worth so?" cried Hannah indignantly. 

"Well, honey, she did rayther, that's a fact. Law, honey, you knowyourself how ha'sh ladies is to poor young gals as has done wrong. Ahawk down on a chicken aint nuffin to 'em!"

"But my sister has done no wrong; Nora Worth is as innocent as an angel, as honorable as an empress. I can prove it, and I will prove it, let theconsequences to the Brudenells be what they may! Called her ill names, did she? Very well! whether my poor wronged child lives or dies thisbitter night, I will clear her character to-morrow, let who will beblackened instead of her! Ordered her out of the house, did she? Allright! we will soon see how long the heir himself will be permitted tostop there! There's law in the land, for rich as well as poor, I reckon!Threatened her with a constable, did she? Just so! I wonder how she willfeel when her own son is dragged off to prison! That will take herdown--"

Hannah's words were suddenly cut short, for Jovial, who was going onbefore her, fell sprawling over some object that lay directly across thepath, and the lantern rolled down the hill. 

"What is the matter, Jovial?" she inquired. 

"Honey, I done fell--fell over somefin' or oder; it is--law, yes--"

"What, Jovial?"

"It's a 'oman, honey; feels like Miss Nora. "

In an instant Hannah was down on her knees beside the fallen figure, clearing away the snow that covered it. 

"It is Nora, " she said, trying to lift the insensible body; but it was acold, damp, heavy weight, deeply bedded in the snow, and resisted allher efforts. 

"Oh, Jovial, I am afraid she is dead! and I cannot get her up! You comeand try!" wept Hannah. 

"Well, there now, I knowed it--I jest did; I knowed if she was turnedout in de snow-storm this night she'd freeze to death! Ole mist'ess aintno better dan a she-bearess!" grumbled the old man, as he rooted hisarms under the cold dead weight of the unfortunate girl, and with muchtugging succeeded in raising her. 

"Now, den, Miss Hannah, hadn't I better tote her back to my ole 'oman?"

"No; we are much nearer the hut than the hall, and even if it were notso, I would not have her taken back there. "

They were in fact going up the path leading to the hut on the top of thehill. So, by dint of much lugging and tugging, and many breathlesspauses to rest, the old man succeeded in bearing his lifeless burden tothe hut. 

CHAPTER XI. 

THE MARTYRS OF LOVE. 

 She woke at length, but not as sleepers wake, Rather the dead, for life seemed something new, A strange sensation which she must partake Perforce, since whatsoever met her view Struck not her memory; though a heavy ache Lay at her heart, whose earliest beat, still true, Brought back the sense of pain, without the cause, For, for a time the furies made a pause. 

 --_Byron_. 

So Nora's lifeless form was laid upon the bed. Old Mrs. Jones, who hadfallen asleep in her chair, was aroused by the disturbance, and stumbledup only half awake to see what was the matter, and to offer herassistance. 

Old Jovial had modestly retired to the chimney corner, leaving the poorgirl to the personal attention of her sister. 

Hannah had thrown off her shawl and bonnet, and was hastily divestingNora of her wet garments, when the old nurse appeared at her side. 

"Oh, Mrs. Jones, is she dead?" cried the elder sister. 

"No, " replied the oracle, putting her warm hand upon the heart of thepatient, "only in a dead faint and chilled to the marrow of her bones, poor heart! Whatever made her run out so in this storm? Where did youfind her? had she fallen down in a fit? What was the cause on it?" shewent on to hurry question upon question, with the vehemence of an oldgossip starving for sensation news. 

"Oh, Mrs. Jones, this is no time to talk! we must do something to bringher to life!" wept Hannah. 

"That's a fact! Jovial, you good-for-nothing, lazy, lumbering nigger, what are ye idling there for, a-toasting of your crooked black shins?Put up the chunks and hang on the kettle directly, " said the nurse withauthority. 

Poor old Jovial, who was anxious to be of service, waiting only to becalled upon, and glad to be set to work, sprung up eagerly to obey thismandate. 

Thanks to the huge logs of wood used in Hannah's wide chimney, theneglected fire still burned hotly, and Jovial soon had it in a roaringblaze around the suspended kettle. 

"And now, Hannah, you had better get out her dry clothes and a thickblanket, and hang 'em before the fire to warm. And give me some of thatwine and some allspice to heat, " continued Mrs. Jones. 

The sister obeyed, with as much docility as the slave had done, and bytheir united efforts the patient was soon dressed in warm dry clothes, wrapped in a hot, thick blanket, and tucked up comfortably in bed. Butthough her form was now limber, and her pulse perceptible, she had notyet spoken or opened her eyes. It was a half an hour later, while Hannahstood bathing her temples with camphor, and Mrs. Jones sat rubbing herhands, that Nora showed the first signs of returning consciousness, andthese seemed attended with great mental or bodily pain, it was difficultto tell which, for the stately head was jerked back, the fair foreheadcorrugated, and the beautiful lips writhen out of shape. 

"Fetch me the spiced wine now, Hannah, " said the nurse; and when it wasbrought she administered it by teaspoonfuls. It seemed to do the patientgood, for when she had mechanically swallowed it, she sighed as with asense of relief, sank back upon her pillow and closed her eyes. Her facehad lost its look of agony; she seemed perfectly at ease. In a littlewhile she opened her eyes calmly and looked around. Hannah bent overher, murmuring:

"Nora, darling, how do you feel? Speak to me, my pet!"

"Stoop down to me, Hannah! low, lower still, I want to whisper to you. "

Hannah put her ear to Nora's lips. 

"Oh, Hannah, it was all true! he was married to another woman. " And asshe gasped out these words with a great sob, her face became convulsedagain with agony, and she covered it with her hands. 

"Do not take this so much to heart, sweet sister. Heaven knows that youwere innocent, and the earth shall know it, too; as for him, he was avillain and a hypocrite not worth a tear, " whispered Hannah. 

"Oh, no, no, no! I am sure he was not to blame. I cannot tell you why, because I know so little; but I feel that he was faultless, " murmuredNora, as the spasm passed off, leaving her in that elysium of physicalease which succeeds great pain. 

Hannah was intensely disgusted by Nora's misplaced confidence; but shedid not contradict her, for she wished to soothe, not to excite thesufferer. 

For a few minutes Nora lay with her eyes closed and her hands crossedupon her bosom, while her watchers stood in silence beside her bed. Thenspringing up with wildly flaring eyes she seized her sister, crying out:

"Hannah! Oh, Hannah!"

"What is it, child?" exclaimed Hannah, in affright. 

"I do believe I'm dying--and, oh! I hope I am. "

"Oh, no, ye aint a-dying, nyther; there's more life than death in this'ere; Lord forgive ye, girl, fer bringing such a grief upon your goodsister, " said Mrs. Jones grimly. 

"Oh, Mrs. Jones, what is the matter with her? Has she taken poison, doyou think? She has been in a great deal of trouble to-night!" criedHannah, in dismay. 

"No, it's worse than pi'sen. Hannah, you send that ere gaping andstaring nigger right away directly; this aint no place, no longer, forno men-folks to be in, even s'posin they is nothin' but niggercre-turs. ". 

Hannah raised her eyes to the speaker. A look of intelligence passedbetween the two women. The old dame nodded her head knowingly, and thenHannah gently laid Nora back upon her pillow, for she seemed at easeagain now, and went to the old man and said:

"Uncle Jovial, you had better go home now. Aunt Dinah will be anxiousabout you, you know. "

"Yes, honey, I knows it, and I was only awaitin' to see if I could be ofany more use, " replied the old man, meekly rising to obey. 

"I thank you very much, dear old Uncle Jovial, for all your goodness tous to-night, and I will knit you a pair of nice warm socks to prove it. "

"Laws, child, I don't want nothing of no thanks, nor no socks fora-doin' of a Christian man's duty. And now, Miss Hannah, don't you becast down about this here misfortin'; it's nothin' of no fault of yours;everybody 'spects you for a well-conducted young 'oman; an' you is noways 'countable for your sister's mishaps. Why, there was my own AuntDolly's step-daughter's husband's sister-in-law's son as was took up forstealin' of sheep. But does anybody 'spect me the less for that? No! andno more won't nobody 'spect you no less for poor misfortinit Miss Nora. Only I do wish I had that ere scamp, whoever he is, by the ha'r of hishead! I'd give his blamed neck one twist he wouldn't 'cover of in ahurry, " said the old man, drawing himself up stiffly as he buttoned hisovercoat. 

"And now good-night, chile! I'll send my ole 'oman over early in demornin', to fetch Miss Nora somefin' nourishin, an' likewise to see ifshe can be of any use, " said Jovial, as he took up his hat to depart. 

The snow had ceased to fall, the sky was perfectly clear, and the starswere shining brightly. Hannah felt glad of this for the old man's sake, as she closed the door behind him. 

But Nora demanded her instant attention. That sufferer was in a paroxysmof agony stronger than any that had yet preceded it. 

There was a night of extreme illness, deadly peril, and fearful anxietyin the hut. 

But the next morning, just as the sun arose above the opposite heightsof Brudenell, flooding all the cloudless heavens and the snow-clad earthwith light and glory, a new life also arose in that humble hut upon thehill. 

 * * * * *

Hannah Worth held a new-born infant boy in her arms, and her tears fellfast upon his face like a baptism of sorrow. 

The miserable young mother lay back upon her pillow--death impressedupon the sunken features, the ashen complexion, and the fixed eyes. 

"Oh, what a blessing if this child could die!" cried Hannah, in apiercing voice that reached even the failing senses of the dying girl. 

There was an instant change. It was like the sudden flaring up of anexpiring light. Down came the stony eyes, melting with tenderness andkindling with light. All the features were softened and illumined. 

Those who have watched the dying are familiar with these suddenre-kindlings of life. She spoke in tones of infinite sweetness:

"Oh, do not say so, Hannah! Do not grudge the poor little thing hislife! Everything else has been taken from him, Hannah!--father, mother, name, inheritance, and all! Leave him his little life: it has beendearly purchased! Hold him down to me, Hannah; I will give him one kiss, if no one ever kisses him again. "

"Nora, my poor darling, you know that I will love your boy, and work forhim, and take care of him, if he lives; only I thought it was better ifit pleased God that he should go home to the Saviour, " said Hannah, asshe held the infant down to receive his mother's kiss. 

"God love you, poor, poor baby!" said Nora, putting up her feeble hands, and bringing the little face close to her lips. "He will live, Hannah!Oh, I prayed all through the dreadful night that he might live, and theLord has answered my prayer, " she added, as she resigned the child oncemore to her sister's care. 

Then folding her hands over her heart, and lifting her eyes towardsheaven with a look of sweet solemnity, and, in a voice so deep, bell-like, and beautiful that it scarcely seemed a human one, she said:

"Out of the Depths have I called to Thee, and Thou hast heard my voice. "

And with these sublime words upon her lips she once more dropped awayinto sleep, stupor, or exhaustion--for it is difficult to define theconditions produced in the dying by the rising and falling of the wavesof life when the tide is ebbing away. The beautiful eyes did not close, but rolled themselves up under their lids; the sweet lips fell apart, and the pearly teeth grew dry. 

Old Mrs. Jones, who had been busy with a saucepan over the fire, nowapproached the bedside, saying:

"Is she 'sleep?"

"I do not know. Look at her, and see if she is, " replied the weepingsister. 

"Well, I can't tell, " said the nurse, after a close examination. 

And neither could Hippocrates, if he had been there. 

"Do you think she can possibly live?" sobbed Hannah. 

"Well--I hope so, honey. Law, I've seen 'em as low as that come roundagain. Now lay the baby down, Hannah Worth, and come away to the window;I want to talk to you without the risk of disturbing her. "

Hannah deposited the baby by its mother's side and followed the nurse. 

"Now you know, Hannah, you must not think as I'm a hard-hearted ole'oman; but you see I must go. "

"Go! oh, no! don't leave Nora in her low state! I have so littleexperience in these cases, you know. Stay with her! I will pay you well, if I am poor. "

"Child, it aint the fear of losin' of the pay; I'm sure you're welcometo all I've done for you. "

"Then do stay! It seems indeed that Providence himself sent you to uslast night! What on earth should we have done without you! It was reallythe Lord that sent you to us. "

"'Pears to me it was Old Nick! I know one thing: I shouldn't a-come if Ihad known what an adventur' I was a-goin' to have, " mumbled the oldwoman to herself. 

Hannah, who had not heard her words, spoke again:

"You'll stay?"

"Now, look here, Hannah Worth, I'm a poor old lady, with nothing but mycharacter and my profession; and if I was to stay here and nuss NoraWorth, I should jes' lose both on 'em, and sarve me right, too! What callhave I to fly in the face of society?"

Hannah made no answer, but went and reached a cracked tea-pot from thetop shelf of the dresser, took from it six dollars and a half, which wasall her fortune, and came and put it in the hand of the nurse, saying:

"Here! take this as your fee for your last night's work and go, andnever let me see your face again if you can help it. "

"Now, Hannah Worth, don't you be unreasonable--now, don't ye; drat themoney, child; I can live without it, I reckon; though I can't livewithout my character and my perfession; here, take it, child--you maywant it bad afore all's done; and I'm sure I would stay and take care ofthe poor gal if I dared; but now you know yourself, Hannah, that if Iwas to do so, I should be a ruinated old 'oman; for there ain't arespectable lady in the world as would ever employ me again. "

"But I tell you that Nora is as innocent as her own babe; and hercharacter shall be cleared before the day is out!" exclaimed Hannah, tears of rage and shame welling to her eyes. 

"Yes, honey, I dessay; and when it's done I'll come back and nussher--for nothing, too, " replied the old woman dryly, as she put on herbonnet and shawl. 

This done she returned to the side of Hannah. 

"Now, you know I have told you everything what to do for Nora; andby-and-by, I suppose, old Dinah will come, as old Jovial promised; andmaybe she'll stay and 'tend to the gal and the child; 'twon't hurt her, you know, 'cause niggers aint mostly got much character to lose. There, child, take up your money; I wouldn't take it from you, no more'n I'dpick a pocket. Good-by. "

Hannah would have thrown the money after the dame as she left the hut, but that Nora's dulcet tones recalled her:

"Hannah, don't!"

She hurried to the patient's bedside; there was another rising of thewaves of life; Nora's face, so dark and rigid a moment before, was nowagain soft and luminous. 

"What is it, sister?" inquired Hannah, bending over her. 

"Don't be angry with her, dear; she did all she could for us, you know, without injuring herself--and we had no right to expect that. "

"But--her cruel words!"

"Dear Hannah, never mind; when you are hurt by such, remember ourSaviour; think of the indignities that were heaped upon the Son of God;and how meekly he bore them, and how freely he forgave them. "

"Nora, dear, you do not talk like yourself. "

"Because I am dying, Hannah. My boy came in with the rising sun, and Ishall go out with its setting. "

"No, no, my darling--you are much better than you were. I do not see whyyou should die!" wept Hannah. 

"But I do; I am not better, Hannah--I have only floated back. I amalways floating backward and forward, towards life and towards death;only every time I float towards death I go farther away, and I shallfloat out with the day. "

Hannah was too much moved to trust herself to speak. 

"Sister, " said Nora, in a fainter voice, "I have one last wish. "

"What is it, my own darling?"

"To see poor, poor Herman once more before I die. "

"To forgive him! Yes, I suppose that will be right, though very hard, "sighed the elder girl. 

"No, not to forgive him, Hannah--for he has never willingly injured me, poor boy; but to lay my hand upon his head, and look into his eyes, andassure him with my dying breath that I know he was not to blame; for Ido know it, Hannah. "

"Oh, Nora, what faith!" cried the sister. 

The dying girl, who, to use her own words, was floating away again, scarcely heard this exclamation, for she murmured on in a lower tone, like the receding voice of the wind:

"For if I do not have a chance of saying this to him, Hannah--if he isleft to suppose I went down to the grave believing him to betreacherous--it will utterly break his heart, Hannah; for I know him, poor fellow---he is as sensitive as--as--any--. " She was gone againout of reach. 

Hannah watched the change that slowly grew over her beautiful face: sawthe grayness of death creep over it--saw its muscles stiffen intostone--saw the lovely eyeballs roll upward out of sight--and the sweetlips drawn away from the glistening teeth. 

While she thus watched she heard a sound behind her. She turned in timeto see the door pushed open, and Herman Brudenell--pale, wild, haggard, with matted hair, and blood-shot eyes, and shuddering frame--totter intothe room. 

CHAPTER XII. 

HERMAN'S STORY. 

 Thus lived--thus died she; never more on her Shall sorrow light or shame. She was not made, Through years of moons, the inner weight to bear, Which colder hearts endure 'til they are laid By age in earth: her days and pleasures were Brief but delightful--such as had not stayed Long with her destiny; but she sleeps well By the sea-shore, whereon she loved to dwell. 

 --_Byron_. 

Hannah arose, met the intruder, took his hand, led him to the bed ofdeath and silently pointed to the ghastly form of Nora. 

He gazed with horror on the sunken features, gray complexion, upturnedeyes, and parted lips of the once beautiful girl. 

"Hannah, how is this--dying?" he whispered huskily. 

"Dying, " replied the woman solemnly. 

"So best, " he whispered, in a choking voice. 

"So best, " she echoed, as she drew away to the distant window. "So best, as death is better than dishonor. But you! Oh, you villain! oh, youheartless, shameless villain! to pass yourself off for a single man andwin her love and deceive her with a false marriage!"

"Hannah! hear me!" cried the young man, in a voice of anguish. 

"Dog! ask the judge and jury to hear you when you are brought to trialfor your crime! For do you think that I am a-going to let that girl godown to her grave in undeserved reproach? No, you wretch! not to savefrom ruin you and your fine sisters and high mother, and all your proud, shameful race! No, you devil! if there is law in the land, you shall bedragged to jail like a thief and exposed in court to answer for yourbigamy; and all the world shall hear that you are a felon and she anhonest girl who thought herself your wife when she gave you her love!"

"Hannah, Hannah, prosecute, expose me if you like! I am so miserablethat I care not what becomes of me or mine. The earth is crumbling undermy feet! do you think I care for trifles? Denounce, but hear me! Heavenknows I did not willingly deceive poor Nora! I was myself deceived! Ifshe believed herself to be my wife, I as fully believed myself to be herhusband. "

"You lie!" exclaimed this rude child of nature, who knew no fine wordfor falsehood. 

"Oh, it is natural you should rail at me! But, Hannah, my sharp, sharpgrief makes me insensible to mere stinging words. Yet if you would letme, I could tell you the combination of circumstances that deceived usboth!" replied Herman, with the patience of one who, having suffered theextreme power of torture, could feel no new wound. 

"Tell me, then!" snapped Hannah harshly and incredulously. 

He leaned against the window-frame and whispered:

"I shall not survive Nora long; I feel that I shall not; I have nottaken food or drink, or rested under a roof, since I heard that news, Hannah. Well, to explain--I was very young when I first met her---"

"Met who?" savagely demanded Hannah. 

"My first wife. She was the only child and heiress of a retiredJew-tradesman. Her beauty fascinated an imbecile old nobleman, who, having insulted the daughter with 'liberal' proposals, that werescornfully rejected, tempted the father with 'honorable' ones, whichwere eagerly accepted. The old Jew, in his ambition to becomefather-in-law to the old earl, forgot his religious prejudices andcoaxed his daughter to sacrifice herself. And thus Berenice D'Israelibecame Countess of Hurstmonceux. The old peer survived his foolishmarriage but six months, and died leaving his widow penniless, his debtshaving swamped even her marriage portion. His entailed estates went tothe heir-at-law, a distant relation--"

"What in the name of Heaven do you think I care for your countesses! Iwant to know what excuse you can give for your base deception of mysister, " fiercely interrupted Hannah. 

"I am coming to that. It was in the second year of the CountessHurstmonceux's widowhood that I met her at Brighton. Oh, Hannah, it isnot in vanity; but in palliation of my offense that I tell you she lovedme first. And when a widow loves a single man, in nine cases out of tenshe will make him marry her. She hunted me down, ran me to earth--"

"Oh, you wretch! to say such things of a lady!" exclaimed the woman, with indignation. 

"It is true, Hannah, and in this awful hour, with that ghastly formbefore me, truth and not false delicacy must prevail. I say then thatthe Countess of Hurstmonceux hunted me down and run me to earth, but allin such feminine fashion that I scarcely knew I was hunted. I wasflattered by her preference, grateful for her kindness and proud of theprospect of carrying off from all competitors the most beautiful amongthe Brighton belles; but all this would not have tempted me to offer hermy hand, for I did not love her, Hannah. "

"What did tempt you then?" inquired the woman. 

"Pity; I saw that she loved me passionately, and--I proposed to her. "

"Coxcomb! do you think she would have broken her heart if you hadn't?"

"Yes, Hannah, to tell the truth, I did think so then; I was but a boy, you know; and I had that fatal weakness of which I told you--that whichdreaded to inflict pain and delighted to impart joy. So I asked her tomarry me. But the penniless Countess of Hurstmonceux was the soleheiress of the wealthy old Jew, Jacob D'Israeli. And he had set his mindupon her marrying a gouty marquis, and thus taking one step higher inthe peerage; so of course he would not listen to my proposal, and hethreatened to disinherit his daughter if she married me. Then we didwhat so many others in similar circumstances do--we married privately. Soon after this I was summoned home to take possession of my estates. SoI left England; but not until I had discovered the utter unworthiness ofthe siren whom I was so weak as to make my wife. I did not reproach thewoman, but when I sailed from Liverpool it was with the resolution neverto return. "

"Well, sir! even supposing you were drawn into a foolish marriage withan artful woman, and had a good excuse for deserting her, was that anyreason why you should have committed the crime of marrying Nora?" criedthe woman fiercely. 

"Hannah, it was not until after I had read an account of a railwaycollision, in which it was stated that the Countess of Hurstmonceux wasamong the killed that I proposed for Nora. Oh, Hannah, as the Lord inheaven hears me, I believed myself to be a free, single man, a widower, when I married Nora! My only fault was too great haste. I believed Norato be my lawful wife until the unexpected arrival of the Countess ofHurstmonceux, who had been falsely reported among the killed. "

"If this is so, " said Hannah, beginning to relent, "perhaps after allyou are more to be pitied than blamed. "

"Thank you, thank you, Hannah, for saying that! But tell me, does shebelieve that I willfully deceived her? Yet why should I ask? She mustthink so! appearances are so strong against me, " he sadly reflected. 

"But she does not believe it; her last prayer was that she might see youonce more before she died, to tell you that she knew you were not toblame, " wept Hannah. 

"Bless her! bless her!" exclaimed the young man. 

Hannah, whose eyes had never, during this interview, left the face ofNora, now murmured:

"She is reviving again; will you see her now?"

Herman humbly bowed his head and both approached the bed. 

That power--what is it?--awe?--that power which subdues the wildestpassions in the presence of death, calmed the grief of Herman as hestood over Nora. 

She was too far gone for any strong human emotion; but her pale, rigidface softened and brightened as she recognized him, and she tried toextend her hand towards him. 

He saw and gently took it, and stooped low to hear the sacred words herdying lips were trying to pronounce. 

"Poor, poor boy; don't grieve so bitterly; it wasn't your fault, " shemurmured. 

"Oh, Nora, your gentle spirit may forgive me, but I never can forgivemyself for the reckless haste that has wrought all this ruin!" groanedHerman, sinking on his knees and burying his face on the counterpane, overwhelmed by grief and remorse for the great, unintentional wrong hehad done; and by the impossibility of explaining the cause of his fatalmistake to this poor girl whose minutes were now numbered. 

Softly and tremblingly the dying hand arose, fluttered a moment like awhite dove, and then dropped in blessing on his head. 

"May the Lord give the peace that he only can bestow; may the Lord pityyou, comfort you, bless you and save you forever, Herman, poor Herman!"

A few minutes longer her hand rested on his head, and then she removedit and murmured:

"Now leave me for a little while; I wish to speak to my sister. "

Herman arose and went out of the hut, where he gave way to the pent-upstorm of grief that could not be vented by the awful bed of death. 

Nora then beckoned Hannah, who approached and stooped low to catch herwords. 

"Sister, you would not refuse to grant my dying prayers, would you?"

"Oh, no, no, Nora!" wept the woman. 

"Then promise me to forgive poor Herman the wrong that he has done us;he did not mean to do it, Hannah. "

"I know he did not, love; he explained it all to me. The first wife wasa bad woman who took him in. He thought she had been killed in a railwaycollision, when he married you, and he never found out his mistake untilshe followed him home. "

"I knew there was something of that sort; but I did not know what. Now, Hannah, promise me not to breathe a word to any human being of hissecond marriage with me; it would ruin him, you know, Hannah; for no onewould believe but that he knew his first wife was living all the time. Will you promise me this, Hannah?"

Even though she spoke with great difficulty, Hannah did not answer untilshe repeated the question. 

Then with a sob and a gulp the elder sister said:

"Keep silence, and let people reproach your memory, Nora? How can I dothat?"

"Can reproach reach me--there?" she asked, raising her hand towardsheaven. 

"But your child, Nora; for his sake his mother's memory should bevindicated!"

"At the expense of making his father out a felon? No, Hannah, no; peoplewill soon forget he ever had a mother. He will only be known as HannahWorth's nephew, and she is everywhere respected. Promise me, Hannah. "

"Nora, I dare not. "

"Sister, I am dying; you cannot refuse the prayer of the dying. "

Hannah was silent. 

"Promise me! promise me! promise me! while my ears can yet take in yourvoice!" Nora's words fell fainter and fainter; she was failing fast. 

"Oh, Heaven, I promise you, Nora--the Lord forgive me for it!" weptHannah. 

"The Lord bless you for it, Hannah. " Her voice sunk into murmurs and thecold shades of death crept over her face again; but rallying her fastfailing strength she gasped:

"My boy, quick! Oh, quick, Hannah!"

Hannah lifted the babe from his nest and held him low to meet hismother's last kiss. 

"There, now, lay him on my arm, Hannah, close to my left side, and drawmy hand over him; I would feel him near me to the very last. "

With trembling fingers the poor woman obeyed. 

And the dying mother held her child to her heart, and raised her glazingeyes full of the agony of human love to Heaven, and prayed:

"O pitiful Lord, look down in mercy on this poor, poor babe! Take himunder thy care!" And with this prayer she sank into insensibility. 

Hannah flew to the door and beckoned Herman. He came in, the livingimage of despair. And both went and stood by the bed. They dared notbreak the sacred spell by speech. They gazed upon her in silent awe. 

Her face was gray and rigid; her eyes were still and stony; her breathand pulse were stopped. Was she gone? No, for suddenly upon that face ofdeath a great light dawned, irradiating it with angelic beauty andglory; and once more with awful solemnity deep bell-like tones tolledforth the notes. 

"Out of the depths have I called to TheeAnd Thou hast heard my voice. "

And with these holy words upon her lips the gentle spirit of Nora Worth, ruined maiden but innocent mother, winged its way to heaven. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

THE FLIGHT OF HERMAN. 

 Tread softly--bow the head-- In reverent silence bow; There's one in that poor shed, One by that humble bed, Greater than thou!

 Oh, change! Stupendous change! Fled the immortal one! A moment here, so low, So agonized, and now-- Beyond the sun!

 --_Caroline Bowles_. 

For some time Hannah Worth and Herman Brudenell remained standing by thebedside, and gazing in awful silence upon the beautiful clay extendedbefore them, upon which the spirit in parting had left the impress ofits last earthly smile!

Then the bitter grief of the bereaved woman burst through all outwardrestraints, and she threw herself upon the bed and clasped the dead bodyof her sister to her breast, and broke into a tempest of tears and sobsand lamentations. 

"Oh, Nora! my darling! are you really dead and gone from me forever?Shall I never hear the sound of your light step coming in, nor meet thebeamings of your soft eyes, nor feel your warm arms around my neck, norlisten to your coaxing voice, pleading for some little indulgence whichhalf the time I refused you?

"How could I have refused you, my darling, anything, hard-hearted that Iwas! Ah! how little did I think how soon you would be taken from me, andI should never be able to give you anything more! Oh, Nora, come back tome, and I will give you everything I have--yes, my eyes, and my life, and my soul, if they could bring you back and make you happy!

"My beautiful darling, you were the light of my eyes and the pulse of myheart and the joy of my life! You were all that I had in the world! mylittle sister and my daughter and my baby, all in one! How could you dieand leave me all alone in the world, for the love of a man? me who lovesyou more than all the men on the earth could love!

"Nora, I shall look up from my loom and see your little wheel standingstill--and where the spinner? I shall sit down to my solitary meals andsee your vacant chair--and where my companion? I shall wake in the darknight and stretch out my arms to your empty place beside me--and wheremy warm loving sister? In the grave! in the cold, dark, still grave!

"Oh, Heaven! Heaven! how can I bear it?--I, all day in the lonely house!all night in the lonely bed! all my life in the lonely world! the black, freezing, desolate world! and she in her grave! I cannot bear it! Oh, no, I cannot bear it! Angels in heaven, you know that I cannot! Speak tothe Lord, and ask him to take me!

"Lord, Lord, please to take me along with my child. We were but two! twoorphan sisters! I have grown gray in taking care of her! She cannot dowithout me, nor I without her! We were but two! Why should one be takenand the other left? It is not fair, Lord! I say it is not fair!" ravedthe mourner, in that blind and passionate abandonment of grief which issure at its climax to reach frenzy, and break into open rebellionagainst Omnipotent Power. 

And it is well for us that the Father is more merciful than ourtenderest thoughts, for he pardons the rebel and heals his wounds. 

The sorrow of the young man, deepened by remorse, was too profound forsuch outward vent. He leaned against the bedpost, seemingly colder, paler, and more lifeless than the dead body before him. 

At length the tempest of Hannah's grief raged itself into temporaryrest. She arose, composed the form of her sister, and turned and laidher hand upon the shoulder of Herman, saying calmly:

"It is all over. Go, young gentleman, and wrestle with your sorrow andyour remorse, as you may. Such wrestlings will be the only punishmentyour rashness will receive in this world! Be free of dread from me. Sheleft you her forgiveness as a legacy, and you are sacred from mypursuit. Go, and leave me with my dead. "

Herman dropped upon his knees beside the bed of death, took the coldhand of Nora between his own, and bowed his head upon it for a littlewhile in penitential homage, and then arose and silently left the hut. 

After he had gone, Hannah remained for a few minutes standing where hehad left her, gazing in silent anguish upon the dark eyes of Nora, nowglazed in death, and then, with reverential tenderness, she pressed downthe white lids, closing them until the light of the resurrection morningshould open them again. 

While engaged in this holy duty, Hannah was interrupted by there-entrance of Herman. 

He came in tottering, as if under the influence of intoxication; but weall know that excessive sorrow takes away the strength and senses assurely as intoxication does. There is such a state as being drunken withgrief when we have drained the bitter cup dry!

"Hannah, " he faltered, "there are some things which should be rememberedeven in this awful hour. "

The sorrowing woman, her fingers still softly pressing down her sister'seyelids, looked up in mute inquiry. 

"Your necessities and--Nora's child must be provided for. Will you giveme some writing materials?" And the speaker dropped, as if totallyprostrated, into a chair by the table. 

With some difficulty Hannah sought and found an old inkstand, a stumpypen, and a scrap of paper. It was the best she could do. Stationery wasscarce in the poor hut. She laid them on the table before Herman. Andwith a trembling hand he wrote out a check upon the local bank and putit in her hand, saying:

"This sum will provide for the boy, and set you and Gray up in somelittle business. You had better marry and go to the West, taking thechild with you. Be a mother to the orphan, Hannah, for he will neverknow another parent. And now shake hands and say good-by, for we shallnever meet again in this world. "

Too thoroughly bewildered with grief to comprehend the purport of hiswords and acts, Hannah mechanically received the check and returned thepressure of the hand with which it was given. 

And the next instant the miserable young man was gone indeed. 

Hannah dropped the paper upon the table; she did not in the leastsuspect that that little strip of soiled foolscap represented the sum offive thousand dollars, nor is it likely that she would have taken it hadshe known what it really was. Hannah's intellects were chaotic with hertroubles. She returned to the bedside and was once more absorbed in hersorrowful task, when she was again interrupted. 

This time it was by old Dinah, who, having no hand at liberty, shovedthe door open with her foot, and entered the hut. 

If "there is but one step between the sublime and the ridiculous, " thereis no step at all between the awful and the absurd, which are constantlyseen side by side. Though such a figure as old Dinah presented, standingin the middle of the death-chamber, is not often to be found in tragicscenes. Her shoulders were bent beneath the burden of an enormous bundleof bed clothing, and her arms were dragged down by the weight of twolarge baskets of provisions. She was much too absorbed in her ownostentatious benevolence to look at once towards the bed and see whathad happened there. Probably, if she glanced at the group at all, shesupposed that Hannah was only bathing Nora's head; for instead of goingforward or tendering any sympathy or assistance, she just let her hugebundle drop from her shoulders and sat her two baskets carefully uponthe table, exclaiming triumphantly:

"Dar! dar's somefin to make de poor gal comfo'ble for a mont' or more!Dar, in dat bundle is two thick blankets and four pa'r o' sheets an'pilly cases, all out'n my own precious chist; an' not beholden to olemis' for any on 'em, " she added, as she carefully untied the bundle andlaid its contents, nicely folded, upon a chair. 

"An' dar!" she continued, beginning to unload the large basket--"dar's atukky an' two chickuns offen my own precious roost; nor likewisebeholden to ole mis for dem nyder. An' dar! dar's sassidges and bloodpuddin's out'n our own dear pig as me an' ole man Jov'al ris an' kiltourselves; an' in course no ways beholden to ole mis', " she concluded, arranging these edibles upon the table. 

"An' dar!" she recommenced as she set the smaller basket beside theother things, "dar's a whole raft o''serves an' jellies and pickles asmay be useful. An' dat's all for dis time! An' now, how is de poor gal, honey? Is she 'sleep?" she asked, approaching the bed. 

"Yes; sleeping her last sleep, Dinah, " solemnly replied Hannah. 

"De Lor' save us! what does you mean by dat, honey? Is she faint?"

"Look at her, Dinah, and see for yourself!"

"Dead! oh, Lor'-a-mercy!" cried the old woman, drawing back appalled atthe sight that met her eyes; for to the animal nature of the pureAfrican negro death is very terrible. 

For a moment there was silence in the room, and then the voice of Hannahwas heard:

"So you see the comforts you robbed yourself of to bring to Nora willnot be wanted, Dinah. You must take them back again. "

"Debil burn my poor, ole, black fingers if I teches of 'em to bring 'emhome again! S'posin' de poor dear gal is gone home? aint you lef wid amouf of your own to feed, I wonder? Tell me dat?" sobbed the old woman. 

"But, Dinah, I feel as if I should never eat again, and certainly Ishall not care what I eat. And that is your Christmas turkey, too, youronly one, for I know that you poor colored folks never have more. "

"Who you call poor? We's rich in grace, I'd have you to know! 'Sideshavin' of a heap o' treasure laid up in heaven, I reckons! Keep detruck, chile; for 'deed you aint got no oder 'ternative! 'Taint Dinah asis a-gwine to tote 'em home ag'n. Lor' knows how dey a'mos' broke myback a-fetchin' of 'em over here. 'Taint likely as I'll be such aconsarned fool as to tote 'em all de way back ag'in. So say no more'bout it, Miss Hannah! 'Sides which how can we talk o' sich wid de sighto' she before our eyes! Ah, Miss Nora! Oh, my beauty! Oh, my pet! Isyou really gone an' died an' lef' your poor ole Aunt Dinah behind aslubbed you like de apple of her eye! What did you do it for, honey? Youknow your ole Aunt Dinah wasn't a-goin' to look down on you for nothin'as is happened of, " whined the old woman, stooping and weeping over thecorpse. Then she accidentally touched the sleeping babe, and started upin dismay, crying:

"What dis? Oh, my good Lor' in heaben, what dis?"

"It is Nora's child, Dinah. Didn't you know she had one?" said Hannah;with a choking voice and a crimson face. 

"Neber even s'picioned! I knowed as she'd been led astray, poor thin', an' as how it was a-breakin' of her heart and a-killin' of her!Leastways I heard it up yonder at de house; but I didn't know nuffin''bout dis yere!"

"But Uncle Jovial did. "

"Dat ole sinner has got eyes like gimlets, dey bores into eberyting!"

"But didn't he tell you?"

"Not a singly breaf! he better not! he know bery well it's much as hisole wool's worf to say a word agin dat gal to me. No, he on'y say howMiss Nora wer' bery ill, an' in want ob eberyting in de worl' an'eberyting else besides. An' how here wer' a chance to 'vest our propertyto 'vantage, by lendin' of it te de Lor', accordin' te de Scriptur's as'whoever giveth to the poor lendeth to the Lord. ' So I hunted up all Icould spare and fotch it ober here, little thinkin' what a sight wouldmeet my old eyes! Well, Lord!"

"But, Dinah, " said the weeping Hannah, "you must not think ill of Nora!She does not deserve it. And you must not, indeed. "

"Chile, it aint for me to judge no poor motherless gal as is already'peared afore her own Righteous Judge. "

"Yes, but you shall judge her! and judge her with righteous judgment, too! You have known her all your life--all hers, I mean. You put thefirst baby clothes on her that she ever wore! And you will put the lastdress that she ever will! And now judge her, Dinah, looking on her purebrow, and remembering her past life, is she a girl likely to have been'led astray, ' as you call it?"

"No, 'fore my 'Vine Marster in heaben, aint she? As I 'members ob detime anybody had a-breaved a s'picion ob Miss Nora, I'd jest up'd an'boxed deir years for 'em good--'deed me! But what staggers of me, honey, is _dat!_ How de debil we gwine to 'count for _dat?_" questionedold Dinah, pointing in sorrowful suspicion at the child. 

For all answer Hannah beckoned to the old woman to watch her, while sheuntied from Nora's neck a narrow black ribbon, and removed from it aplain gold ring. 

"A wedding-ring!" exclaimed Dinah, in perplexity. 

"Yes, it was put upon her finger by the man that married her. Then itwas taken off and hung around her neck, because for certain reasons shecould not wear it openly. But now it shall go with her to the grave inits right place, " said Hannah, as she slipped the ring upon the poordead finger. 

"Lor', child, who was it as married of her?"

"I cannot tell you. I am bound to secrecy. "

The old negress shook her head slowly and doubtfully. 

"I's no misdoubts as she was innocenter dan a lamb, herself, for she dolook it as she lay dar wid de heabenly smile frozen on her face; but Ido misdoubts dese secrety marriages; I 'siders ob 'em no 'count. Ten toone, honey, de poor forso'k sinner as married her has anoder wifesome'ers. "

Without knowing it the old woman had hit the exact truth. 

Hannah sighed deeply, and wondered silently how it was that neitherDinah nor Jovial had ever once suspected their young master to be theman. 

Old Dinah perceived that her conversation distressed Hannah, and so shethrew off her bonnet and cloak and set herself to work to help the poorbereaved sister. 

There was enough to occupy both women. There was the dead mother to beprepared for burial, and there was the living child to be cared far. 

By the time that they had laid Nora out in her only white dress, and hadfed the babe and put it to sleep, and cleaned up the cottage, the winterday had drawn to its close and the room was growing dark. 

Old Dinah, thinking it was time to light up, took a home-dipped candlefrom the cupboard, and seeing a piece of soiled paper on the table, actually lighted her candle with a check for five thousand dollars!

And thus it happened that the poor boy who, without any fault of hismother, had come into the world with a stigma on his birth, now, withoutany neglect of his father, was left in a state of complete destitutionas well as of entire orphanage. 

On the Tuesday following her death poor Nora Worth was laid in herhumble grave under a spreading oak behind the hut. 

This spot was selected by Hannah, who wished to keep her sister's lastresting-place always in her sight, and who insisted that every foot ofGod's earth, enclosed or unenclosed--consecrated or unconsecrated--washoly ground. 

Jim Morris, Professor of Odd Jobs for the country side, made the coffin, dug the grave, and managed the funeral. 

The Rev. William Wynne, the minister who had performed the fatal nuptialceremony of the fair bride, read the funeral services over her deadbody. 

No one was present at the burial but Hannah Worth, Reuben Gray, the twoold negroes, Dinah and Jovial, the Professor of Odd Jobs, and theofficiating clergyman. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

OVER NORA'S GRAVE. 

 Oh, Mother Earth! upon thy lap, Thy weary ones receiving, And o'er them, silent as a dream, Thy grassy mantle weaving, Fold softly, in thy long embrace, That heart so worn and broken, And cool its pulse of fire beneath Thy shadows old and oaken. Shut out from her the bitter word, And serpent hiss of scorning: Nor let the storms of yesterday Disturb her quiet morning. 

 --_Whittier_. 

When the funeral ceremonies were over and the mourners were coming awayfrom the grave, Mr. Wynne turned to them and said:

"Friends, I wish to have some conversation with Hannah Worth, if youwill excuse me. "

And the humble group, with the exception of Reuben Gray, took leave ofHannah and dispersed to their several homes. Reuben waited outside forthe end of the parson's interview with his betrothed. 

"This is a great trial to you, my poor girl; may the Lord support youunder it!" said Mr. Wynne, as they entered the hut and sat down. 

Hannah sobbed. 

"I suppose it was the discovery of Mr. Brudenell's first marriage thatkilled her?"

"Yes, sir, " sobbed Hannah. 

"Ah! I often read and speak of the depravity of human nature; but Icould not have believed Herman Brudenell capable of so black a crime, "said Mr. Wynne, with a shudder. 

"Sir, " replied Hannah, resolved to do justice in spite of her bleedingheart, "he isn't so guilty as you judge him to be. When he married Norahhe believed that his wife had been killed in a great railway crash, forso it was reported in all the newspaper accounts of the accident; and henever saw it contradicted. "

"His worst fault then appears to have been that of reckless haste inconsummating his second marriage, " said Mr. Wynne. 

"Yes; and even for that he had some excuse. His first wife was an artfulwidow, who entrapped him into a union and afterwards betrayed hisconfidence and her own honor. When he heard she was dead, you see, nodoubt he was shocked; but he could not mourn for her as he could for atrue, good woman. "

"Humph! I hope, then, for the sake of human nature that he is not so badas I thought him. But now, Hannah, what do you intend to do?"

"About what?" inquired the poor woman sadly. 

"About clearing the memory of your sister and the birth of her son fromunmerited shame, " replied Mr. Wynne gravely. 

"Nothing, " she answered sadly. 

"Nothing?" repeated the minister, in surprise. 

"Nothing, " she reiterated. 

"What! will you leave the stigma of undeserved reproach upon your sisterin her grave and upon her child all his life, when a single revelationfrom you, supported by my testimony, will clear them both?" asked theminister, in almost indignant astonishment. 

"Not willingly, the Lord above knows. Oh, I would die to clear Nora fromblame!" cried Hannah, bursting into a flood of tears. 

"Well, then, do it, my poor woman! do it! You can do it, " said theclergyman, drawing his chair to her side and laying his hand kindly onher shoulder. "Hannah, my girl, you have a duty to the dead and to theliving to perform. Do not be afraid to attempt it! Do not be afraid tooffend that wealthy and powerful family! I will sustain you, for it ismy duty as a Christian minister to do so, even though they--theBrudenells--should afterwards turn all their great influence in theparish against me. Yes, I will sustain you, Hannah! What do I say? I? Amightier arm than that of any mortal shall hold you up!"

"Oh, it is of no use! the case is quite past remedying, " wept Hannah. 

"But it is not, I assure you! When I first heard the astounding news ofBrudenell's first marriage with the Countess of Hurstmonceaux, and hiswife's sudden arrival at the Hall, and recollected at the same time hissecond marriage with Nora Worth, which I myself had solemnized, mythoughts flew to his poor young victim, and I pondered what could bedone for her, and I searched the laws of the land bearing upon thesubject of marriage. And I found that by these same laws--when a man inthe lifetime of his wife marries another woman, the said woman being inignorance of the existence of the said wife, shall be held guiltless bythe law, and her child or children, if she have any by the saidmarriage, shall be the legitimate offspring of the mother, legallyentitled to bear her name and inherit her estates. That fits preciselyNora's case. Her son is legitimate. If she had in her own right anestate worth a billion, that child would be her heir-at-law. She hadnothing but her good name! Her son has a right to inheritthat--unspotted, Hannah! mind, unspotted! Your proper way will be toproceed against Herman Brudenell for bigamy, call me for a witness, establish the fact of Nora's marriage, rescue her memory and her child'sbirth from the slightest shadow of reproach, and let the consequencesfall where they should fall, upon the head of the man! They will not bemore serious than he deserves. If he can prove what he asserts--that hehimself was in equal ignorance with Nora of the existence of his firstwife, he will be honorably acquitted in the court, though of courseseverely blamed by the community. Come, Hannah, shall we go to Baymouthto-morrow about this business?"

Hannah was sobbing as if her heart would break. 

"How glad I would be to clear Nora and her child from shame, no one butthe Searcher of Hearts can know! But I dare not! I am bound by a vow! asolemn vow made to the dying! Poor girl! with her last breath shebesought me not to expose Mr. Brudenell, and not to breathe one word ofhis marriage with her to any living soul!" she cried. 

"And you were mad enough to promise!"

"I would rather have bitten my tongue off than have used it in such afatal way! But she was dying fast, and praying to me with her upliftedeyes and clasped hands and failing breath to spare Herman Brudenell. Ihad no power to refuse her--my heart was broken. So I bound my soul by avow to be silent. And I must keep my sacred promise made to the dying; Imust keep it though, till the Judgment Day that shall set all thingsright, Nora Worth, if thought of it all, must be considered a fallengirl and her son the child of sin!" cried Hannah, breaking into apassion of tears and sobs. 

"The devotion of woman passes the comprehension of man, " said theminister reflectively. "But in sacrificing herself thus, had she nothought of the effect upon the future of her child?"

"She said he was a boy; his mother would soon be forgotten; he would bemy nephew, and I was respected, " sobbed Hannah. 

"In a word, she was a special pleader in the interest of the man whosereckless haste had destroyed her!"

"Yes; that was it! that was it! Oh, my Nora! oh, my young sister! it washard to see you die! hard to see you covered up in the coffin! but it isharder still to know that people will speak ill of you in your grave, and I cannot convince them that they are wrong!" said Hannah, wringingher hands in a frenzy of despair. 

For trouble like this the minister seemed to have no word of comfort. Hewaited in silence until she had grown a little calmer, and then he said:

"They say that the fellow has fled. At least he has not been seen at theHall since the arrival of his wife. Have you seen anything of him?"

"He rushed in here like a madman the day she died, received her lastprayer for his welfare, and threw himself out of the house again, Heavenonly knows where!"

"Did he make no provision for this child?"

"I do not know; he said something about it, and he wrote something on apaper; but indeed I do not think he knew what he was about. He was asnearly stark mad as ever you saw a man; and, anyway, he went, offwithout leaving anything but that bit of paper; and it is but right forme to say, sir, that I would not have taken anything from him on behalfof the child. If the poor boy cannot have his father's family name heshall not have anything else from him with my consent! Those are myprinciples, Mr. Wynne! I can work for Nora's orphan boy just as I workedfor my mother's orphan girl, which was Nora, herself, sir. "

"Perhaps you are right, Hannah. But where is that paper. I should muchlike to see it, " said the minister. 

"The paper he wrote and left, sir?"

"Yes; show it to me. "

"Lord bless your soul, sir, it wasn't of no account; it was the leastlittle scrap, with about three lines wrote on it; I didn't take any careof it. Heavens knows that I had other things to think of than that. ButI will try to find it if you wish to look at it, " said Hannah, rising. 

Her search of course was vain, and after turning up everything in thehouse to no purpose she came back to the parson, and said:

"I dare say it is swept away or burnt up; but, anyway, it isn't worthtroubling one's self about it. "

"I think differently, Hannah; and I would advise you to search, and makeinquiry, and try your best to find it. And if you do so, just put itaway in a very safe place until you can show it to me. And now good-by, my girl; trust in the Lord, and keep up your heart, " said the minister, taking his hat and stick to depart. 

When Mr. Wynne had gone Reuben Gray, who had been walking about behindthe cottage, came in and said:

"Hannah, my dear, I have got something very particular to say to you;but I feel as this is no time to say it exactly, so I only want to askyou when I may come and have a talk with you, Hannah. "

"Any time, Reuben; next Sunday, if you like. "

"Very well, my dear; next Sunday it shall be! God bless you, Hannah; andGod bless the poor boy, too. I mean to adopt that child, Hannah, andcowhide his father within an inch of his life, if ever I find him out!"

"Talk of all this on Sunday when you come, Reuben; not now, oh, notnow!"

"Sartinly not now, my dear; I see the impropriety of it. Good-by, mydear. Now, shan't I send Nancy or Peggy over to stay with you?"

"Upon no account, Reuben. "

"Just as you say, then. Good-by, my poor dear. "

And after another dozen affectionate adieus Reuben reluctantly draggedhimself from the hut. 

CHAPTER XV. 

NORA'S SON. 

 Look on this babe; and let thy pride take heed, Thy pride of manhood, intellect or fame, That thou despise him not; for he indeed, And such as he in spirit and heart the same, Are God's own children in that kingdom bright, Where purity is praise, and where before The Father's throne, triumphant evermore, The ministering angels, sons of light, Stand unreproved because they offer there, Mixed with the Mediator's hallowing prayer, The innocence of babes in Christ like this. 

 --_M. F. Tupper_. 

Hannah was left alone with her sorrows and her mortifications. 

Never until now had she so intensely realized her bereavement and hersolitude. Nora was buried; and the few humble friends who hadsympathized with her were gone; and so she was alone with her greattroubles. She threw herself into a chair, and for the third or fourthtime that day broke into a storm of grief. And the afternoon had fadednearly into night before she regained composure. Even then she sat likeone palsied by despair, until a cry of distress aroused her. It was thewail of Nora's infant. She arose and took the child and laid it on herlap to feed it. Even Hannah looked at it with a pity that was almostallied to contempt. 

It was in fact the thinnest, palest, puniest little object that had evercome into this world prematurely, uncalled for, and unwelcome. It didnot look at all likely to live. And as Hannah fed the ravenous littleskeleton she could not help mentally calculating the number of its hourson earth, and wishing that she had thought to request Mr. Wynne, whilehe was in the house, to baptize the wretched baby, so little likely tolive for another opportunity. Nor could Hannah desire that it shouldlive. It had brought sorrow, death, and disgrace into the hut, and ithad nothing but poverty, want, and shame for its portion in this world;and so the sooner it followed its mother the better, thoughtHannah--short-sighted mortal. 

Had Hannah been a discerner of spirits to recognize the soul in thatmiserable little baby-body!

Or had she been a seeress to foresee the future of that child of sorrow!

Reader, this boy is our hero; a real hero, too, who actually lived andsuffered and toiled and triumphed in this land!

"Out of the depths" he came indeed! Out of the depths of poverty, sorrow, and degradation he rose, by God's blessing on his aspirations, to the very zenith of fame, honor, and glory!

He made his name, the only name he was legally entitled to bear--hispoor wronged mother's maiden-name--illustrious in the annals of ournation!

But this is to anticipate. 

No vision of future glory, however, arose before the poor weaver'simagination as she sat in that old hut holding the wee boy on her lap, and for his sake as well as for her own begrudging him every hour of thefew days she supposed he had to live upon this earth. Yes! Hannah wouldhave felt relieved and satisfied if that child had been by his mother'sside in the coffin rather than been left on her lap. 

Only think of that, my readers; think of the utter, utter destitution ofa poor little sickly, helpless infant whose only relative would havebeen glad to see him dead! Our Ishmael had neither father, mother, name, nor place in the world. He had no legal right to be in it at all; nolegal right to the air he breathed, or to the sunshine that warmed himinto life; no right to love, or pity, or care; he had nothing--nothingbut the eye of the Almighty Father regarding him. But Hannah Worth was aconscientious woman, and even while wishing the poor boy's death she dideverything in her power to keep him alive, hoping all would be in vain. 

Hannah, as you know, was very, very poor. And with this child upon herhands she expected to be much poorer. She was a weaver of domesticcarpets and counterpanes and of those coarse cotton and woolen cloths ofwhich the common clothing of the plantation negroes are made, and themost of her work came from Brudenell Hall. She used to have to go andfetch the yarn, and then carry home the web. She had a piece of clothnow ready to take home to Mrs. Brudenell's housekeeper; but sheabhorred the very idea of carrying it there, or of asking for more work. 

Nora had been ignominiously turned from the house, cruelly driven outinto the midnight storm; that had partly caused her death. And shouldshe, her sister, degrade her womanhood by going again to that house tosolicit work, or even to carry back what she had finished, to meet, perhaps, the same insults that had maddened Nora?

No, never; she would starve and see the child starve first. The web ofcloth should stay there until Jim Morris should come along, when shewould get him to take it to Brudenell Hall. And she would seek work fromother planters' wives. 

She had four dollars and a half in the house--the money, you know, thatold Mrs. Jones, with all her hardness, had yet refused to take from thepoor woman. And then Mrs. Brudenell owed her five and a half for theweaving of this web of cloth. In all she had ten dollars, eight of whichshe owed to the Professor of Odd Jobs for his services at Nora'sfuneral. The remaining two she hoped would supply her simple wants untilshe found work. And in the meantime she need not be idle; she wouldemploy her time in cutting up some of poor Nora's clothes to make anoutfit for the baby--for if the little object lived but a week it mustbe clothed--now it was only wrapped up in a piece of flannel. 

While Hannah meditated upon these things the baby went to sleep on herlap, and she took it up and laid it in Nora's vacated place in her bed. 

And soon after Hannah took her solitary cup of tea, and shut up the hutand retired to bed. She had not had a good night's rest since that fatalnight of Nora's flight through the snow storm to Brudenell Hall, and hersubsequent illness and death. Now, therefore, Hannah slept the sleep ofutter mental and physical prostration. 

The babe did not disturb her repose. Indeed, it was a very patientlittle sufferer, if such a term may be applied to so young a child. Butit was strange that an infant so pale, thin, and sickly, deprived of itsmother's nursing care besides, should have made so little plaint andgiven so little trouble. Perhaps in the lack of human pity he had thelove of heavenly spirits, who watched over him, soothed his pains, andstilled his cries. We cannot tell how that may have been, but it iscertain that Ishmael was an angel from his very birth. 

The next day, as Hannah was standing at the table, busy in cutting outsmall garments, and the baby-boy was lying upon the bed equally busy insucking his thumb, the door was pushed open and the Professor of OddJobs stood in the doorway, with a hand upon either post, and sadness onhis usually good-humored and festive countenance. 

"Ah, Jim, is that you? Come in, your money is all ready for you, " saidHannah on perceiving him. 

It is not the poor who "grind the faces of the poor. " Jim Morris wouldhave scorned to have taken a dollar from Hannah Worth at this tryingcrisis of her life. 

"Now, Miss Hannah, " he answered, as he came in at her bidding, "pleasedon't you say one word to me 'bout de filthy lucre, 'less you means to'sult me an' hurt my feelin's. I don't 'quire of no money for doin' of aman's duty by a lone 'oman! Think Jim Morris is a man to 'pose upon alone 'oman? Hopes not, indeed! No, Miss Hannah! I aint a wolf, norlikewise a bear! Our Heabenly Maker, he gib us our lives an' de earthan' all as is on it, for ourselves free! And what have we to render himin turn? Nothing! And what does he 'quire ob us? On'y lub him and lubeach oder, like human beings and 'mortal souls made in his own image tolive forever! and not to screw and 'press each oder, and devour an' preyon each oder like de wild beastesses dat perish! And I considers, MissHannah--"

And here, in fact, the professor, having secured a patient hearer, launched into an oration that, were I to report it word for word, wouldtake up more room than we can spare him. He brought his discourse roundin a circle, and ended where he had begun. 

"And so, Miss Hannah, say no more to me 'bout de money, 'less you wantto woun' my feelin's. "

"Well, I will not, Morris; but I feel so grateful to you that I wouldlike to repay you in something better than mere words, " said Hannah. 

"And so you shall, honey, so you shall, soon as eber I has de need andyou has de power! But now don't you go and fall into de pop'lar error ofmisparagin' o' words. Words! why words is de most powerfullist engine ofgood or evil in dis worl'! Words is to idees what bodies is to souls!Wid words you may save a human from dispair, or you may drive him toperdition! Wid words you may confer happiness or misery! Wid words agreat captain may rally his discomforted troops, an' lead 'em on towictory! wid words a great congressman may change the laws of de land!Wid words a great lawyer may 'suade a jury to hang an innocent man, orto let a murderer go free. It's bery fashionable to misparage words, callin' of 'em 'mere words. ' Mere words! mere fire! mere life! meredeath! mere heaben! mere hell! as soon as mere words! What are all thegrand books in de worl' filled with? words! What is the one great Bookcalled? What is the Bible called? De Word!" said the professor, spreading out his arms in triumph at this peroration. 

Hannah gazed in very sincere admiration upon this orator, and when hehad finished, said:

"Oh, Morris, what a pity you had not been a white man, and been broughtup at a learned profession!"

"Now aint it, though, Miss Hannah?" said Morris. 

"You would have made such a splendid lawyer or parson!" continued thesimple woman, in all sincerity. 

"Now wouldn't I, though?" complained the professor. "Now aint it a shameI'm nyther one nor t'other? I have so many bright idees all of my own! Imight have lighted de 'ciety an' made my fortin at de same time! Well!"he continued, with a sigh of resignation, "if I can't make my own fortinI can still lighten de 'ciety if only dey'd let me; an' I'm willin' todu it for nothin'! But people won't 'sent to be lighted by me; soon asever I begins to preach or to lecture in season, an' out'n season, dewhite folks, dey shut up my mouf, short! It's trufe I'm a-tellin' ofyou, Miss Hannah! Dey aint no ways, like you. Dey can't 'preciatege'nus. Now I mus' say as you can, in black or white! An' when I's sohappy as to meet long of a lady like you who can 'preciate me, I'mwillin' to do anything in the wide worl' for her! I'd make coffins an'dig graves for her an' her friends from one year's end to de t'otherfree, an' glad of de chance to do it!" concluded the professor, withenthusiastic good-will. 

"I thank you very kindly, Jim Morris; but of course I would not like togive you so much trouble, " replied Hannah, in perfect innocence ofsarcasm. 

"La. It wouldn't be no trouble, Miss Hannah! But then, ma'am, I didn'tcome over here to pass compliments, nor no sich! I come with a messagefrom old madam up yonder at Brudenell Hall. "

"Ah, " said Hannah, in much surprise and more disgust, "what may havebeen her message to me?"

"Well, Miss Hannah, it may have been the words of comfort, such as wouldbecome a Christian lady to send to a sorrowing fellow-creatur'; only itwasn't, " sighed Jim Morris. 

"I want no such hypocritical words from her!" said Hannah indignantly. 

"Well, honey, she didn't send none!"

"What did she send?"

"Well, chile, de madam, she 'quested of me to come over here an' handyou dis five dollar an' a half, which she says she owes it to you. An'also to ax you to send by the bearer, which is me, a certain piece ofcloth, which she says how you've done wove for her. An' likewise to tellyou as you needn't come to Brudenell Hall for more work, which there isno more to give you. Dere, Miss Hannah, dere's de message jes' as demadam give it to me, which I hopes you'll 'sider as I fotch it in de wayof my perfession, an' not take no 'fense at me who never meant anytowards you, " said the professor deprecatingly. 

"Of course not, Morris. So far from being angry with you, I am verythankful to you for coming. You have relieved me from a quandary. Ididn't know how to return the work or to get the pay. For after what hashappened, Morris, the cloth might have stayed here and the money there, forever, before I would have gone near Brudenell Hall!"

Morris slapped his knee with satisfaction, saying:

"Just what I thought, Miss Hannah! which made me the more willing tobring de message. So now if you'll jest take de money an' give me decloth, I'll be off. I has got some clocks and umberell's to mendto-night. And dat minds me! if you'll give me dat broken coffee-mill o'yourn I'll fix it at de same time, " said the professor. 

Hannah complied with all his requests, and he took his departure. 

He had scarcely got out of sight when Hannah had another visitor, ReubenGray, who entered the hut with looks of deprecation and words ofapology. 

"Hannah, woman, I couldn't wait till Sunday! I couldn't rest! Knowing ofyour situation, I felt as if I must come to you and say what I had on mymind! Do you forgive me?"

"For what?" asked Hannah in surprise. 

"For coming afore Sunday. "

"Sit down, Reuben, and don't be silly. As well have it over now as anyother time. "

"Very well, then, Hannah, " said the man, drawing a chair to the table atwhich she sat working, and seating himself. 

"Now, then, what have you to say, Reuben?"

"Well, Hannah, my dear, you see I didn't want to make a disturbancewhile the body of that poor girl lay unburied in the house; but now Iask you right up and down who is the wretch as wronged Nora?" demandedthe man with a look of sternness Hannah had never seen on his patientface before. 

"Why do you wish to know, Reuben?" she inquired in a low voice. 

"To kill him. "

"Reuben Gray!"

"Well, what's the matter, girl?"

"Would you do murder?"

"Sartainly not, Hannah; but I will kill the villain as wronged Norawherever I find him, as I would a mad dog. "

"It would be the same thing! It would be murder!"

"No, it wouldn't, Hannah. It would be honest killing. For when a cussedvillain hunts down and destroys an innocent girl, he ought to be countedan outlaw that any man may slay who finds him. And if so be he don't gethis death from the first comer, he ought to be sure of getting it fromthe girl's nearest male relation or next friend. And if every suchscoundrel knew he was sure to die for his crime, and the law would holdhis slayer guiltless, there would be a deal less sin and misery in thisworld. As for me, Hannah, I feel it to be my solemn duty to Nora, towomankind, and to the world, to seek out the wretch as wronged her andkill him where I find him, just as I would a rattlesnake as had bit mychild. "

"They would hang you for it, Reuben!" shuddered Hannah. 

"Then they'd do very wrong! But they'd not hang me, Hannah! ThankHeaven, in these here parts we all vally our women's innocence a dealhigher than we do our lives, or even our honor. And if a man is right tokill another in defense of his own life, he is doubly right to do so indefense of woman's honor. And judges and juries know it, too, and feelit, as has been often proved. But anyways, whether or no, " said ReubenGray, with the dogged persistence for which men of his class are oftennoted, "I want to find that man to give him his dues. "

"And be hung for it, " said Hannah curtly. 

"No, my dear, I don't want to be hung for the fellow. Indeed, to tellthe truth, I shouldn't like it at all; I know I shouldn't beforehand;but at the same time I mustn't shrink from doing of my duty first, andsuffering for it afterwards, if necessary! So now for the rascal's name, Hannah!"

"Reuben Gray, I couldn't tell you if I would, and I wouldn't tell you ifI could! What! do you think that I, a Christian woman, am going to sendyou in your blind, brutal vengeance to commit the greatest crime youpossibly could commit?"

"Crime, Hannah! why, it is a holy duty!"

"Duty, Reuben! Do you live in the middle of the nineteenth century, in aChristian land, and have you been going to church all your life, andhearing the gospel of peace preached to this end?"

"Yes! For the Lord himself is a God of vengeance. He destroyed Sodom andGomorrah by fire, and once He destroyed the whole world by water!"

"'The devil can quote Scripture for his purpose, ' Reuben! and I think heis prompting you now! What! do you, a mortal, take upon yourself thedivine right of punishing sin by death? Reuben, when from the dust ofthe earth you can make a man, and breathe into his nostrils the breathof life, then perhaps you may talk of punishing sin with death. Youcannot even make the smallest gnat or worm live! How then could you dareto stop the sacred breath of life in a man!" said Hannah. 

"I don't consider the life of a wretch who has destroyed an innocentgirl sacred by any means, " persisted Reuben. 

"The more sinful the man, the more sacred his life!"

"Well, I'm blowed to thunder, Hannah, if that aint the rummest thing asever I heard said! the more sinful a man, the more sacred his life! Whatwill you tell me next!"

"Why, this: that if it is a great crime to kill a good man, it is thegreatest of all crimes to kill a bad one!"

To this startling theory Reuben could not even attempt a reply. He couldonly stare at her in blank astonishment. His mental caliber could not becompared with Hannah's in capacity. 

"Have patience, dear Reuben, and I will make it all clear to you! Themore sinful the man, the more sacred his life should be considered, because in that lies the only chance of his repentance, redemption, andsalvation. And is a greater crime to kill a bad man than to kill a goodone, because if you kill a good man, you kill his body only; but if youkill a bad man, you kill both his body and his soul! Can't youunderstand that now, dear Reuben?"

Reuben rubbed his forehead, and answered sullenly, like one about to beconvinced against his will:

"Oh, I know what you mean, well enough, for that matter. "

"Then you must know, Reuben, why it is that the wicked are suffered tolive so long on this earth! People often wonder at the mysterious waysof Providence, when they see a good man prematurely cut off and a wickedman left alive! Why, it isn't mysterious at all to me! The good man wasready to go, and the Lord took him; the bad man was left to his chanceof repentance. Reuben, the Lord, who is the most of all offended by sin, spares the sinner a long time to afford him opportunity for repentance!If he wanted to punish the sinner with death in this world, he couldstrike the sinner dead! But he doesn't do it, and shall we dare to? No!we must bow in humble submission to his awful words--' Vengeance ismine!'"

"Hannah, you may be right; I dare say you are; yes, I'll speak plain--Iknow you are! but it's hard to put up with such! I feel baffled anddisappointed, and ready to cry! A man feels ashamed to set down quietunder such mortification!"

"Then I'll give you a cure for that! It is the remembrance of the DivineMan and the dignified patience with which he bore the insults of therabble crowd upon his day of trial! You know what those insults were, and how he bore them! Bow down before his majestic meekness, and pay himthe homage of obedience to his command of returning good for evil!"

"You're right, Hannah!" said Gray, with a great struggle, in which heconquered his own spirit. "You're altogether right, my girl! So youneedn't tell me the name of the wrong-doer! And, indeed, you'd betternot; for the temptation to punish him might be too great for mystrength, as soon as I am out of your sight and in his!"

"Why, Reuben, my lad, I could not tell you if I were inclined to do so. I am sworn to secrecy!"

"Sworn to secrecy! that's queer too! Who swore you?"

"Poor Nora, who died forgiving all her enemies and at peace with all theworld!"

"With him too?"

"With him most of all! And now, Reuben, I want you to listen to me. Imet your ideas of vengeance and argued them upon your own ground, forthe sake of convincing you that vengeance is wrong even under thegreatest possible provocation, such as you believed that we had all had. But, Reuben, you are much mistaken! We have had no provocation!" saidHannah gravely. 

"What, no provocation! not in the wrong done to Nora!"

"There has been no intentional wrong done to Nora!"

"What! no wrong in all that villainy?"

"There has been no villainy, Reuben!"

"Then if that wasn't villainy, there's none in the world; and never wasany in the world, that's all I have got to say!"

"Reuben, Nora was married to the father of her child. He loved herdearly, and meant her well. You must believe this, for it is as true asHeaven!" said Hannah solemnly. 

Reuben pricked up his ears; perhaps he was not sorry to be entirelyrelieved from the temptation of killing and the danger of hanging. 

And Hannah gave him as satisfactory an explanation of Nora's case as shecould give, without breaking her promise and betraying Herman Brudenellas the partner of Nora's misfortunes. 

At the close of her narrative Reuben Gray took her hand, and holding it, said gravely:

"Well, my dear girl, I suppose the affair must rest where it is for thepresent. But this makes one thing incumbent upon us. " And having saidthis, Reuben hesitated so long that Hannah took up the word and asked:

"This makes what incumbent upon us, lad?"

"To get married right away!" blurted out the man. 

"Pray, have you come into a fortune, Reuben?" inquired Hannah coolly. 

"No, child, but--"

"Neither have I, " interrupted Hannah. 

"I was going to say, " continued the man, "that I have my hands to workwith--"

"For your large family of sisters and brothers--"

"And for you and that poor orphan boy as well! And I'm willing to do itfor you all! And we really must be married right away, Hannah! I musthave a lawful right to protect you against the slights as you'll be sureto receive after what's happened, if you don't have a husband to takecare of you. "

He paused and waited for her reply; but as she did not speak, he beganagain:

"Come, Hannah, my dear, what do you say to our being married o' Sunday?"

She did not answer, and he continued:

"I think as we better had get tied together arter morning service! Andthen, you know, I'll take you and the bit of a baby home long o' me, Hannah. And I'll be a loving husband to you, my girl; and I'll be afather to the little lad with as good a will as ever I was to my ownorphan brothers and sisters. And I'll break every bone in the skin ofany man that looks askance at him, too! Don't you fear for yourself orthe child. The country side knows me for a peaceable-disposed man; butit had rather not provoke me for all that, because it knows when I havea just cause of quarrel, I don't leave my work half done! Come, Hannah, what do you say, my dear? Shall it be o' Sunday? You won't answer me?What, crying, my girl, crying! what's that for?"

The tears were streaming from Hannah's eyes. She took up her apron andburied her face in its folds. 

"Now what's all that about?" continued Reuben, in distress; thensuddenly brightening up, he said: "Oh, I know now! You're thinking ofNancy and Peggy! Don't be afeard, Hannah! They won't do, nor say, noreven so much as look anything to hurt your feelings! and they had betternot, if they know which side their bread is buttered! I am the master ofmy own house, I reckon, poor as it is! And my wife will be the mistress;and my sisters must keep their proper places! Come, Hannah! come, mydarling, what do you say to me?"' he whispered, putting his arm over hershoulders, while he tried to draw the apron from her face. 

She dropped her apron, lifted her face, looked at him through herfalling tears, and answered:

"This is what I have to say to you, dear, dearest, best loved Reuben! Ifeel your goodness in the very depths of my heart; I thank you with allmy soul; I will love you--you only--in silence and in solitude all mylife; I will pray for you daily and nightly; but--" She stopped andsobbed. 

"But--" said Reuben breathlessly. 

"I will never carry myself and my dishonor under your honest roof. "

Reuben caught his suspended breath with a sharp gasp and gazed in blankdismay upon the sobbing woman for a few minutes, and then he said:

"Hannah--oh, my Lord! Hannah, you never mean to say that you won't marryme?"

"I mean just that, Reuben. "

"Oh, Hannah, what have I done to offend you? I never meant to do it! Idon't even know how I've done it! I'm such a blundering animal! But tellme what it is, and I will beg your pardon!"

"It is nothing, you good, true heart! nothing! But you have twosisters--"

"There, I knew it! It's Nancy and Peggy! They've been doing something tohurt your feelings! Well, Hannah, they shall come here and ask yourforgiveness, or else they shall leave my home and go to earn theirliving in somebody's kitchen! I've been a father to them gals; but Iwon't suffer them to insult my own dear Hannah!" burst forth Reuben. 

"Dear Reuben, you are totally mistaken! Your sisters no more thanyourself have ever given me the least cause of offense. They could not, dear Reuben! They must be good girls, being your sisters. "

"Well, if neither I nor my sisters have hurt your feelings, Hannah, whatin the name of sense did you mean by saying--I hate even to repeat thewords--that you won't marry me?"

"Reuben, reproach has fallen upon my name--undeserved, indeed, but notthe less severe. You have young, unmarried sisters, with nothing buttheir good names to take them through the world. For their sakes, dear, you must not marry me and my reproach!"

"Is that all you mean, Hannah?"

"All. "

"Then I will marry you!"

"Reuben, you must give me up. "

"I won't, I say! So there, now. "

"Dear Reuben, I value your affection more than I do anything in thisworld except duty; but I cannot permit you to sacrifice yourself to me, "said Hannah, struggling hard to repress the sobs that were again risingin her bosom. 

"Hannah, I begin to think you want to drive me crazy or break my heart!What sacrifice would it be for me to marry you and adopt that poorchild? The only sacrifice I can think of would be to give you up! But Iwon't do it! no! I won't for nyther man nor mortal! You promised tomarry me, Hannah, and I won't free your promise! but I will keep you toit, and marry you, if I die for it!" grimly persisted Reuben Gray. 

And before she could reply they were interrupted by a knock at the door. 

"Come in!" said Hannah, expecting to see Mrs. Jones or some other humbleneighbor. 

The door was pushed gently open, and a woman of exceeding beauty stoodupon the threshold. 

Her slender but elegant form was clothed in the deepest mourning; herpale, delicate face was shaded by the blackest ringlets; her large, darkeyes were fixed with the saddest interest upon the face of Hannah Worth. 

Hannah arose in great surprise to meet her. 

"You are Miss Worth, I suppose?" said the young stranger. 

"Yes, miss; what is your will with me?"

"I am the Countess of Hurstmonceux. Will you let me rest here a littlewhile?" she asked, with a sweet smile. 

Hannah gazed at the speaker in the utmost astonishment, forgetting toanswer her question, or offer a seat, or even to shut the door, throughwhich the wind was blowing fiercely. 

What! was this beautiful pale young creature the Countess ofHurstmonceux, the rival of Nora, the wife of Herman Brudenell, the "bad, artful woman" who had entrapped the young Oxonian into a discreditablemarriage? Impossible!

While Hannah stood thus dumbfounded before the visitor, Reuben cameforward with rude courtesy, closed the door, placed a chair before thefire, and invited the lady to be seated. 

The countess, with a gentle bow of thanks, passed on, sank into a chair, and let her sable furs slip from her shoulders in a drift around herfeet. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

THE FORSAKEN WIFE. 

 He prayeth best who loveth most All things both great and small, For the good God who loveth us, He made and loveth all. 

 --_Coleridge_. 

To account for the strange visit of the countess to Hannah Worth we mustchange the scene to Brudenell Hall. 

From the time of her sudden arrival at her husband's house, every hourhad been fraught with suffering to Berenice. 

In the first instance, where she had expected to give a joyful surprise, she had only given a painful shock; where she had looked for a cordialwelcome, she had received a cold repulse; finally, where she had hopedher presence would confer happiness, it had brought misery!

On the very evening of her arrival her husband, after meeting her withreproaches, had fled from the house, leaving no clew to his destination, and giving no reason for his strange proceeding. 

Berenice did not understand this. She cast her memory back through allthe days of her short married life spent with Herman Brudenell, and shesought diligently for anything in her conduct that might have given himoffense. She could find nothing. Neither in all their intercourse had heever accused her of any wrong-doing. On the contrary, he had beenprofuse in words of admiration, protestations of love and fidelity. Nowwhat had caused this fatal change in his feelings and conduct towardsher? Berenice could not tell. Her mind was as thoroughly perplexed asher heart was deeply wounded. At first she did not know that he was goneforever. She thought that he would return in an hour or two and openlyaccuse her of some fault, or that he would in some manner betray thecause of offense which he must suppose she had given him. And then, feeling sure of her innocence, she knew she could exonerate herself fromevery shadow of blame--except from that of loving him too well, if heshould consider that a fault. 

Therefore she waited patiently for his return; but when the night passedand he had not come, she grew more and more uneasy, and when the nextday had passed without his making his appearance her uneasiness rose tointolerable anxiety. 

The visit of poor Nora at night had aroused at once her suspicions, herjealousy, and her compassion. She half believed that in this girl shesaw her rival in her husband's affections, the cause of her ownrepudiation and--what was more bitter still to the childless Hebrewwife--the mother of his children! This had been very terrible! But tothe Jewish woman the child of her husband, even if it is at the sametime the child of her rival, is as sacred as her own. Berenice wasloyal, conscientious, and compassionate. In the anguish of her owndeeply wounded and bleeding heart she had pitied and pleaded for poorNora--had even asserted her own authority as mistress of the house, forthe sake of protecting Nora: her husband's other wife, as in themerciful construction of her gentle spirit she had termed the unhappygirl! But then, my readers, you must remember that Berenice was aJewess. This poor unloved Leah would have sheltered the beloved Rachel. We all know how her generous intentions were carried out. A second and athird day passed, and still there came no news of Herman. 

Berenice, prostrated with the heart-wasting sickness of hope deferred, kept her own room. Mrs. Brudenell was indignant at her son, not for hisneglect of his lovely young wife, but for his indifference to a wealthycountess! She deferred her journey to Washington in consideration of hernoble daughter-in-law, and in the hope of her son's speedy reappearanceand reconciliation with his wife, when, she anticipated, they would allgo to Washington together, where the Countess of Hurstmonceux wouldcertainly be the lioness and the Misses Brudenell the belles of theseason. 

On the evening of the fourth day, while Berenice lay exhausted upon thesofa of her bedroom, her maid entered the chamber saying:

"Please, my lady, you remember the young woman that was here on Fridayevening?"

"Yes!" Berenice was up on her elbow in an instant, looking eagerly intothe girl's face. 

"Your ladyship ordered me to make inquiries about her, but I could getno news except from the old man who took her home out of the snowstormand who came back and said she was ill. "

"I know! I know! You told me that before. But you have heard somethingelse. What is it?"

"My lady, the old woman Dinah, who went to nurse her, never came backtill to-day; that is the reason I couldn't hear any more news untilto-night. "

"Well, well, well? Your news! Out with it, girl!"

"My lady, she is dead and buried!"

"Who?"

"The young woman, my lady. She died on Saturday. She was buried to-day. "

Berenice sank back on the sofa and covered her face with her hands. So!her dangerous rival was gone; the poor unhappy girl was dead! Berenicewas jealous, but pitiful. And she experienced in the same moment a senseof infinite relief and a feeling of the deepest compassion. 

Neither mistress nor maid spoke for several minutes. The latter was thefirst to break silence. 

"My lady!"

"Well, Phoebe!"

"There was something else I had to tell you. "

"What was it?"

"The young woman left a child, my lady. "

"A child!" Again Berenice was up on her elbow, her eyes fixed upon thespeaker and blazing with eager interest. 

"It is a boy, my lady; but they don't think it will live!"

"A boy! He shall live! He is mine--my son! I will have him. Since hismother is dead, it is I who have the best right to him!" exclaimed thecountess vehemently, rising to her feet. 

The maid recoiled--she thought her mistress had suddenly gone mad. 

"Phoebe, " said the countess eagerly, "what is the hour?"

"Nearly eleven, my lady. "

"Has it cleared off?"

"No, my lady; it has come on to rain hard; it is pouring. "

The countess went to the windows of her room, but they were too closelyshut and warmly curtained to give her any information as to the state ofthe weather without. Then she hurried impatiently into the passage wherethe one end window remained with its shutters still unclosed, and shelooked out. The rain was lashing the glass with fury. She turned awayand sought her own room again--complaining:

"Oh, I can never go to-night! It is too late and too stormy! Mrs. Brudenell would think me crazy, and the woman at the hut would never letme have my son. Yet, oh! what would I not give to have him on my bosomto-night, " said Berenice, pacing feverishly about the room. 

"My lady, " said the maid uneasily, "I don't think you are well at allthis evening. Won't you let me give you some salvolatile?"

"No, I don't want any!" replied the countess, without stopping in herrestless walk. 

"But, my lady, indeed you are not well!" persisted the affectionatecreature. 

"No, I am not well, Phoebe! My heart is sore, sore, Phoebe! Butthat child would be a balm to it! If I could press my son to my bosom, Phoebe, he would draw out all the fire and pain!"

"But, my lady, he is not your son!" said the maid, with tears of alarmstarting in her eyes. 

"He is, girl! Now that his mother is dead he is mine! Who has a betterright to him than I, I wonder? His mother is gone! his father--" Herethe countess suddenly recollected herself, and as she looked into hermaid's astonished face she felt how far apart were the ideas of theJewish matron and the Christian maiden. She controlled her emotion, tookher seat, and said:

"Don't be alarmed, Phoebe. I am only a little nervous to-night, mygirl. And I want something more satisfactory than a little dog to pet. "

"I don't think, my lady, you could get anything in the world moregrateful, or more faithful, or more easy to manage, than a little dog. Certainly not a baby. Babies is awful, my lady. They aint got a bit ofgratitude or faithfulness in them; and after you have toted them aboutall day, you may tote them about all night. And then they are bawlingfrom the first day of January until the thirty-first day of December. Take my advice, my lady, and stick to the little dogs, and let babiesalone, if you love your peace. "

The countess smiled faintly and kept silence. But--she kept herresolution also. 

The last words that night spoken after she was in bed, and when she wasabout to dismiss her maid, were these:

"Phoebe, mind that you are not to say one word to any human being ofthe subject of our conversation to-night. But you are to call me ateight o'clock, have my breakfast brought to me here at half-past eight, and the carriage at the door at nine. Do you hear?"

"Yes, my lady, " answered the girl, who immediately went to the smallroom adjoining her mistress' chamber, where she usually sat by day andslept by night. 

The countess could only sleep in perfect darkness; so when Phoebe hadput out all the lights she took advantage of that darkness to leave herdoor open, so that she could listen if her mistress was restless orwakeful. The maid soon discovered that her mistress was wakeful andrestless. 

The countess could not sleep for contemplating her project of themorning. According to her Jewish ideas, the motherless son of herhusband was as much hers as though she had brought him into the world. And thus she, poor, unloved and childless wife, was delighted with theson that she thought had dropped from heaven into her arms. 

That anyone should venture to raise the slightest objection to hertaking possession of her own son never entered the mind of Berenice. Sheimagined that even Mrs. Brudenell, who had treated the mother with theutmost scorn and contumely, must turn to the son with satisfaction anddesire. 

In cautioning Phoebe to secrecy she had not done so in dread ofopposition from any quarter, but with the design of giving Mrs. Brudenell a pleasant surprise. 

She intended to go out in the morning as if for a drive, to go to thehut, take possession of the boy, bring him home and lay him in hisgrandmother's lap. And she anticipated for her reward her child'saffection, her husband's love, and her mother's cordial approval. 

Full of excitement from these thoughts, Berenice could not sleep; buttossed from side to side in her bed like one suffering from pain orfever. 

Her faithful attendant, who had loved her mistress well enough to leavehome and country and follow her across the seas to the Western World, lay awake anxiously listening to her restless motions until nearmorning, when, overcome by watching, she fell asleep. 

The maid, who had been the first to close her eyes, was the first toopen them. Remembering her mistress' order to be called at eighto'clock, she sprang out of bed and looked at her watch. To herconsternation she found that it was half-past nine. 

She flew to her mistress' room and threw open the blinds, letting in aflood of morning light. 

And then she went to the bedside and drew back the curtains and lookedupon the face of the sleeper. Such a pale, sad, worn-looking face! withthe full lips closed, the long black lashes lying on the waxen cheeks, the slender black brows slightly contracted, and the long purplish blackhair flowing down each side and resting upon the swelling bosom; herarms were thrown up over the pillow, and her hands clasped over herhead. This attitude added to the utter sadness and weariness of heraspect. 

Phoebe slowly shook her head, murmuring:

"I can't think why a lady having beauty and wealth and rank should breakher heart about any scamp of a man! Why couldn't she have purchased anestate with her money and settled down in Old England? And if she musthave married, why didn't she marry the marquis? Lack-a-daisy-me! I wishshe had never seen this young scamp! She didn't sleep the whole night! Iknow it was after four o'clock in the morning that I dropped off, andthe last thing I knew was trying to keep awake and listen to hertossing! Well, whatever her appointment was this morning, she has missedit by a good hour and a half; that she has, and I'm glad of it. Sleep isthe best part of life, and there isn't anything in this world worthwaking up for, as I've found out yet! Let her sleep on; she's dead forit, anyway. So let her sleep on, and I'll take the blame. "

And with this the judicious Phoebe carefully drew the bed curtainsagain, closed the window shutters, and withdrew to her own room tocomplete her toilet. 

After a little while Phoebe went below to get her breakfast, which shealways took in the housekeeper's room. 

Mrs. Spicer had breakfasted long before, and so she met the girl with asharp rebuke for keeping late hours. 

"Pray, " she inquired mockingly, "is it the fashion in the country youcame from for servants to be abed until ten o'clock in the morning?"

"That depends on circumstances, " answered Phoebe, with assumedgravity; "the servants of noble families like the Countess ofHurstmonceux's lie late; but the servants of common folks like yourshave to get up early. "

"Like ours, you impudent minx! I'll have you to know that ourfamily--the Brudenells--are as good as any other family in the world!But it is not the custom here for the maids to lie in bed until allhours of the morning, and that you'll find!" cried Mrs. Spicer in apassion. 

"You'll find yourself discharged if you go on in this way! You seem toforget that my lady is the mistress of this house, " said Phoebe, seating herself at the table, which was covered with the litter of thehousekeeper's breakfast. 

Before the housekeeper had time to reply, or the lady's maid had time topour out her cold coffee, the drawing-room bell rang. And soon afterJovial entered to say that Mrs. Brudenell required the attendance ofPhoebe. The girl rose at once and went up to the drawing room. 

"How is the countess this morning?" was the first question of Mrs. Brudenell. 

"My lady is sleeping; she has had a bad night; I thought it best not toawake her, " answered Phoebe. 

"You did right. Let me know when she is awake and ready to receive me. You may go now. "

Phoebe returned to her cold and comfortless breakfast, and had butjust finished it when a second bell rang. This time it was her mistress, and she hurried to answer it. 

The countess was already in her dressing-gown and slippers, seatedbefore her toilet-table, and holding a watch in her hand. 

"Oh, Phoebe, " she exclaimed, "how could you have disobeyed me so! Itis after ten o'clock!"

"My lady, I will tell you the truth. You were so restless last nightthat you could not sleep, and I was so anxious for fear you were goingto be ill, that indeed I could not. And so I lay awake listening at youtill after four o'clock this morning, when I dropped off out of sheerexhaustion, and so I overslept myself until half-past nine; and then mylady, I thought, as you had had such a bad night, and as it was too latefor you to keep your appointment with yourself, and as you were sleepingso finely, I had better not wake you. I beg your pardon, my lady, if Idid wrong, and I hope no harm has been done. "

"Not much harm, Phoebe; but something that should have been finishedby this time is yet to begin--that is all. In future, Phoebe, try toobey me. "

"Indeed I will, my lady. "

"And now do my hair as quickly as possible. "

Phoebe's nimble fingers soon accomplished their task. 

"And now go order the carriage to come round directly; and then bring mea cup of coffee, " said the lady, rising to adjust her own dress. 

Phoebe hurried off to obey, and soon returned, bringing a delicatelittle breakfast served on a tray. 

By the time the countess had drunk the coffee and tasted the ricewaffles and broiled partridge, the carriage was announced. 

Mrs. Brudenell met her in the lower hall. 

"Ah, Berenice, my dear, I am glad to see that you are going for anairing at last. The morning is beautiful after the storm, " she said. 

"Yes, mamma, " replied the countess, rather avoiding the interview. 

"Which way will you drive, my dear?"

"I think through the valley; it is sheltered from the wind there. Good-morning!"

And the lady entered the carriage and gave her order. 

The carriage road through the valley was necessarily much longer andmore circuitous than the footpath with which we are so familiar. Thefootpath, we know, went straight down the steep precipice of Brudenellhill, across the bottom, and then straight up the equally steep ascentof Hut hill. Of course this route was impracticable for any wheeledvehicle. The carriage therefore turned off to the left into a road thatwound gradually down the hillside and as gradually ascended the oppositeheights. The carriage drew up at a short distance from the hut, and thecountess alighted and walked to the door. We have seen what a surpriseher arrival caused, and now we must return to the interview between thewife of Herman and the sister of Nora. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

THE COUNTESS AND THE CHILD. 

 With no misgiving thought or doubt Her fond arms clasped his child about In the full mantle of her love; For who so loves the darling flowers Must love the bloom of human bowers, The types of brightest things above. One day--one sunny winter day-- She pressed it to her tender breast; The sunshine of its head there lay As pillowed on its native rest. 

 --_Thomas Buchanan Reed_. 

Lady Hurstmonceux and Hannah Worth sat opposite each other in silence. The lady with her eyes fixed thoughtfully on the floor--Hannah waitingfor the visitor to disclose the object of her visit. 

Reuben Gray had retired to the farthest end of the room, in delicaterespect to the lady; but finding that she continued silent, it at lastdawned upon his mind that his absence was desirable. So he came forwardwith awkward courtesy, saying:

"Hannah, I think the lady would like to be alone with you; so I will bidyou good-day, and come again to-morrow. "

"Very well, Reuben, " was all that the woman could answer in the presenceof a third person. 

And after shaking Hannah's hand, and pulling his forelock to thevisitor, the man went away. 

As soon as he was clearly gone the countess turned to the weaver andsaid:

"Hannah--your name is Hannah, I think?"

"Yes, madam. "

"Well, Hannah, I have come to thank you for your tender care of my son, and to relieve you of him!" said the countess. 

"Madam!" exclaimed the amazed woman, staring point-blank at the visitor. 

"Why, what is the matter, girl? What have I said that you should glareat me in that way?" petulantly demanded the lady. 

"Madam, you astonish me! Your son is not here. I know nothing about yourson; not even that you had a son, " replied Hannah. 

"Oh, I see, " said the lady, with a faint smile; "you are angry because Ihave left him on your hands so many days. That is pardonable in you. But, you see, my girl, it was not my fault. I never even heard of thelittle fellow's existence until late last night. I could not sleep forthinking of him. And I came here as soon as I had had my breakfast. "

"Madam, can a lady have a son and not know it?" exclaimed Hannah, heramazement fast rising to alarm, for she was beginning to suppose hervisitor a maniac escaped from Bedlam. 

"Nonsense, Hannah; do not be so hard to propitiate, my good woman! Ihave explained to you how it happened! I came as soon as I could! I amwilling to reward you liberally for all the trouble you have had withhim. So now show me my son, there's a good soul. "

"Poor thing! poor, poor thing! so young and so perfectly crazy!"muttered Hannah, looking at the countess with blended pity and fear. 

"Come, Hannah, show me my son, and have done with this!" said thevisitor, rising. 

"Don't, my lady; don't go on in this way; you know you have no son; begood, now, and tell me if you really are the Countess of Hurstmonceux;or if not, tell me who you are, and where you live, and let me take youback to your friends, " pleaded Hannah, taking her visitor by the hands. 

"Oh, there he is now!" exclaimed the countess, shaking Hannah off, andgoing towards the bed where she saw the babe lying. 

Hannah sprang after her, clasped her around the waist, and holding hertightly, cried out in terror:

"Don't, my lady! for Heaven's sake, don't hurt the child! He is such apoor little mite; he cannot live many days; he must die, and it will bea great blessing that he does; but still, for all that, I mustn't seehim killed before my very face. No, you shan't, my lady! you shan't goanigh him! You shan't, indeed!" exclaimed Hannah, as the countessstruggled once to free herself. 

"How dare you hold me?" exclaimed Berenice. 

"Because I am strong enough to do so, my lady, without your leave! Andbecause you are not yourself, my lady, and you might kill the child, "said Hannah resolutely enough, though, to tell the truth, she wasfrightened almost out of her senses. 

"Not myself? Are you crazy, woman?" indignantly demanded Berenice. 

"No, my lady, but you are! Oh, do try to compose your mind, or you maydo yourself a mischief!" pleaded Hannah. 

Berenice suddenly ceased to struggle, and became perfectly quiet. Hannahwas resolved not to be deceived, and held her firmly as ever. 

"Hannah, " said the countess, "I begin to see how it is that you think memad. You, a Christian maid, and I, a Jewish matron, do not understandeach other. We think, and look, and speak from different points of view. You think I mean to say that the child upon the bed is the son of my ownbosom!"

"You said so, my lady. "

"No, I said he was my son--I meant my son by marriage and by adoption. "

"I do not understand you, madam. "

"Well, I fear you don't. I will try to explain. He is"--the lady's voicefaltered and broke down--"he is my husband's son, and so, his motherbeing dead, he becomes mine, " breathed Berenice, in a faint voice. 

"Madam!" exclaimed Hannah, drawing back and reddening to the very edgeof her hair. 

"He is the son of Herman Brudenell, and so--"

"My lady! how dare you say such a thing as that?" fiercely interruptedHannah. 

"Because, oh, Heaven! it is true, " moaned Berenice; "it is true, Hannah!Would to the Lord it were not!"

"Lady Hurstmonceux--"

"Stop! listen to me first, Hannah! I do not blame your poor sister. Heaven knows I pitied her very much, and did all I could to protect herthe night she came to Brudenell Hall. "

"I know you did, madam, " said Hannah, her heart softening at therecollection of what she had heard of the countess' share in the scenebetween Nora and Mrs. Brudenell. 

"She knew nothing of me when she met my husband, and she could not helploving him any more than I could--any more than I could, " she repeatedlowly to herself; "and so, though it wrings my heart to think of it, Icannot blame her, Hannah--"

"My lady, you have no right to blame her, " interrupted Nora's sister. 

"I know it, " meekly replied the wronged wife. 

"You have no right to blame her, because she was perfectly blameless inthe sight of Heaven. "

Berenice looked up in surprise, sighed and continued:

"However that may be, Hannah, I am not her judge, and do not presume toarraign her. May she rest in peace! But her child! Herman's child! mychild! It is of him I wish to speak! Oh, Hannah, give him to me! I wanthim so much! I long for him so intensely! My heart warms to him soardently! He will be such a comfort, such a blessing, such a salvationto me, Hannah! I will love him so well, and rear him so carefully, andmake him so happy! I will educate him, provide for all his wants, andgive him a profession. And if I am never reconciled to my husband--"Here again her voice faltered and broke down; but after a dry sob, sheresumed: "If I am never reconciled to my husband, I will make his son myheir; for I hold all my large property in my own right, Hannah! Say, will you give me my husband's son?"

"But, my lady--"

"Ah, do not refuse me!" interrupted the countess. "I am so unhappy! I amalone in the world, with no one for me to love, and no one to love me!"

"You have many blessings, madam. "

"I have rank and wealth and good looks, if you mean them. But, ah! doyou think they make a woman happy?"

"No, madam. "

"Listen, Hannah! My poor father was an apostate to his faith. My nationcast me off for being his daughter and for marrying a Christian. Myparents are dead. My people are estranged. My husband alienated. Butstill I have one comfort and one hope! My comfort is--the--the simpleexistence of my husband! Yes, Hannah! alienated as he is, it is acomfort to me to know that he lives. If it were not for that, I myselfshould die! Oh, Hannah! it is common enough to talk of being willing todie for one we love! It is easy to die--much easier sometimes than tolive: the last is often very hard! I will do more than die for my love:I will live for him! live through long years of dreary loneliness, taking my consolation in rearing his son, if you will give me the boy, and hoping in some distant future for his return, when I can present hisboy to him, and say to him: 'If you cannot love me for my own sake, tryto love me a little for his!' Oh, Hannah! do not dash this last hopefrom me! give me the boy!"

Hannah bent her head in painful thought. To grant Lady Hurstmonceux'sprayer would be to break her vow, by virtually acknowledging theparentage of Ishmael and betraying Herman Brudenell--and withouteffecting any real good to the lady or the child, since in all humanprobability the child's hours were already numbered. 

"Hannah! will you speak to me?" pleaded Berenice. 

"Yes, my lady. I was wishing to speak to you all along; but you wouldnot give me a chance. If you had, my lady, you would not have beencompelled to talk so much. I wished to ask you then what I wish to askyou now: What reason have you for thinking and speaking so ill of mysister as you do?"

"I do not blame her; I told you so. "

"You cover her errors with a veil of charity; that is what you mean, mylady! She needs no such veil! My sister is as innocent as an angel. Andyou, my lady, are mistaken. "

"Mistaken? as to--to--Oh, Hannah! how am I mistaken?" asked thecountess, with sudden eagerness, perhaps with sudden hope. 

"If you will compose yourself, my lady, and come and sit down, I willtell you the truth, as I have told it to everybody. "

Lady Hurstmonceux went and dropped into her chair, and gazed at Hannahwith breathless interest. 

Hannah drew another forward and sat down opposite to the countess. 

"Now then, " said Berenice eagerly. 

"My lady, what I have to tell is soon said. My sister was buried in herwedding-ring. Her son was born in wedlock. "

The Countess of Hurstmonceux started to her feet, clasped her hands andgazed into Hannah's very soul! The light of an infinite joy irradiatedher face. 

"Is this true?" she exclaimed. 

"It is true. "

"Then I have been mistaken! Oh, how widely mistaken! Thank Heaven! Oh, thank Heaven!"

And the Countess of Hurstmonceux sank back in her chair, covered herface with her hands, and burst into tears. 

Hannah felt very uncomfortable; her conscience reproached her; she wasself-implicated in a deception; and this to one of her integrity ofcharacter was very painful. Literally, she had spoken the truth; but thecountess had drawn false inferences and deceived herself; and she couldnot undeceive her without breaking her oath to Nora and betraying HermanBrudenell. 

Then she pitied that beautiful, pale woman who was weeping so violently. And she arose and poured out the last of poor Nora's bottle of wine andbrought it to her, saying:

"Drink this, my lady, and try and compose yourself. "

Berenice drank the wine and thanked the woman, and then said:

"I was very wrong to take up such fancies as I did; but then, you do notknow how strong the circumstances were that led me to such fancies. I amglad and sorry and ashamed, all at once, Hannah! Glad to find my own andmy mother-in-law's suspicions all unfounded; sorry that I everentertained them against my dear husband; and ashamed--oh, how muchashamed--that I ever betrayed them to anyone. "

"You were seeking to do him a service, my lady, when you did so, " saidHannah remorsefully and compassionately. 

"Yes, indeed I was! And then I was not quite myself! Oh, I have sufferedso much in my short life, Hannah! And I met such a cruel disappointmenton my arrival here! But there! I am talking too much again! Hannah, Ientreat you to forget all that I have said to you. And if you cannotforget it, I implore you most earnestly never to repeat it to anyone. "

"I will not indeed, madam. "

The Countess of Hurstmonceux arose and walked to the bed, turned downthe shawl that covered the sleeping child, and gazed pitifully upon him. Hannah did not now seek to prevent her. 

"Oh, poor little fellow, how feeble he looks! Hannah, it seems such apity that all the plans I formed for his future welfare should be lostbecause he is not what I supposed him to be; it seems hard that therevelation which has made me happy should make him unfortunate; or, rather, that it should prevent his good fortune! And it shall not do soentirely. It is true, I cannot now adopt him, --the child of astranger, --and take him home and rear him as my own, as I should havedone had he been what I fancied him to be. Because it might not beright, you know, and my husband might not approve it. And, oh, Hannah, Ihave grown so timid lately that I dread, I dread more than you canimagine, to do anything that he might not like. Not that he is adomestic tyrant either. You have lived on his estate long enough to knowthat Herman Brudenell is all that is good and kind. But then you see Iam all wrong--and always was so. Everything I do is ill done--and alwaysso. It is all my own fault, and I must try to amend it, if ever I am tohope for happiness. So I must not do anything unless I am sure that itwill not displease him, therefore I must not take this child of astranger home, and rear him as my own. But I will do all that I can forhim here. At present his little wants are all physical. Take this purse, dear woman, and make him as comfortable as you can. I think he ought tohave medical attendance; procure it for him; get everything he needs;and when the purse is empty bring it to me to be replenished. So muchfor the present. If he lives I will pay for his schooling, and see thathe is apprenticed to some good master to learn a trade. "

And with these words the countess held out a well-filled purse toHannah. 

With a deep blush Hannah shook her head and put the offered bounty back, saying:

"No, my lady, no. Nora's child must not become the object of yourcharity. It will not do. My nephew's wants are few, and will not be feltlong; I can supply them all while he lives, I thank you all the same, madam. "

Berenice looked seriously disappointed. Again she pressed her bountyupon Hannah, saying:

"I do not really think you are right to refuse assistance that isproffered to this poor child. "

But Hannah was firm as she replied:

"I know that I am right, madam. And so long as I am able and willing tosupply all his wants myself, and so long as I do supply them, I do himno injury in refusing for him the help of others. "

"But do you have to supply all his wants? I suppose that his father mustbe a poor man, but is he so poor as not to be able to render you someassistance?"

Hannah paused a moment in thought before answering this question, thenshe said:

"His father is dead, my lady. " (Dead to him was her mental reservation. )

"Poor orphan, " sighed the countess, with the tears springing to hereyes; "and you will not let me do anything for him?"

"I prefer to take care of him myself, madam, for the short time that hewill need care, " replied Hannah. 

"Well, then, " sighed the lady, as she restored her purse to her pocket, "remember this--if from any circumstances whatever you should changeyour mind, and be willing to accept my protection for this child, cometo me frankly, and you will find that I have not changed my mind. Ishall always be glad to do anything in my power for this poor babe. "

"I thank you, my lady; I thank you very much, " said Hannah, withoutcommitting herself to any promise. 

What instinct was it that impelled the countess to stoop and kiss thebrow of the sleeping babe, and then to catch him up and press him fondlyto her heart? Who can tell?

The action awoke the infant, who opened his large blue eyes to the gazeof the lady. 

"Hannah, you need not think this boy is going to die. He is only askeleton; but in his strong, bright eyes there is no sign of death--butcertainty of life! Take the word of one who has the blood of a Hebrewprophetess in her veins for that!" said Berenice, with solemnity. 

"It will be as the Lord wills, my lady, " Hannah reverently replied. 

The countess laid the infant back upon the bed and then drew her sablecloak around her shoulders, shook hands with Hannah, and departed. 

Hannah Worth stood looking after the lady for some little space of time. Hannah was an accurate reader of character, and she had seen at thefirst glance that this pale, sad, but most beautiful woman could not bethe bad, artful, deceitful creature that her husband had been led tobelieve and to represent her. And she wondered what mistake it couldpossibly have been that had estranged Herman Brudenell from his lovelywife and left his heart vacant for the reception of another and a mostfatal passion. 

"Whatever it may have been, I have nothing to do with it. I pity thegentle lady, but I cannot accept her bounty for Nora's child, " saidHannah, dismissing the subject from her thoughts and returning to herwork. 

In this manner, from one plausible motive or another, was all helprejected for the orphan boy. 

It seemed as if Providence were resolved to cast the infant helplessupon life, to show the world what a poor boy might make of himself, byGod's blessing on his own unaided efforts!

CHAPTER XVIII. 

BERENICE. 

 Her cheeks grew pale and dim her eye, Her voice was low, her mirth was stay'd; Upon her heart there seemed to lie The darkness of a nameless shade; She paced the house from room to room, Her form became a walking gloom. 

 --_Read_. 

It was yet early in the afternoon when Berenice reached Brudenell Hall. 

Before going to her own apartments she looked into the drawing room, andseeing Mrs. Brudenell, inquired:

"Any news of Herman yet, mamma, dear?"

"No, love, not yet. You've had a pleasant drive, Berenice?"

"Very pleasant. "

"I thought so; you have more color than when you went. You should go outevery morning, my dear. "

"Yes, mamma, " said the young lady, hurrying away. 

Mrs. Brudenell recalled her. 

"Come in here, if you please, my love; I want to have a littleconversation with you. "

Berenice threw her bonnet, cloak, and muff upon the hall table andentered the drawing room. 

Mrs. Brudenell was alone; her daughters had not yet come down; shebeckoned her son's wife to take the seat on the sofa by her side. 

And when Berenice had complied she said:

"It is of yourself and Herman that I wish to speak to you, my dear. "

"Yes, mamma. "

The lady hesitated, and then suddenly said:

"It is now nearly a week since my son disappeared; he left his homeabruptly, without explanation, in the dead of night, at the very hour ofyour arrival! That was very strange. "

"Very strange, " echoed the unloved wife. 

"What was the meaning of it, Berenice?"

"Indeed, mamma, I do not know. "

"What, then, is the cause of his absence?"

"Indeed, indeed, I do not know. "

"Berenice! he fled from your presence. There is evidently somemisunderstanding or estrangement between yourself and your husband. Icannot ask him for an explanation. Hitherto I have forborne to ask you. But now that a week has passed without any tidings of my son, I have aright to demand the explanation. Give it to me. "

"Mamma, I cannot; for I know no more than yourself, " answered Berenice, in a tone of distress. 

"You do not know; but you must suspect. Now what do you suspect to bethe cause of his going?"

"I do not even suspect, mamma. "

"What do you conjecture, then?" persisted the lady. 

"I cannot conjecture; I am all lost in amazement, mamma; but I feel--Ifeel--that it must be some fault in myself, " faltered Berenice. 

"What fault?"

"Ah, there again I am lost in perplexity; faults I have enough, Heavenknows; but what particular one is strong enough to estrange my husband Ido not know, I cannot guess. "

"Has he never accused you?"

"Never, mamma. "

"Nor quarreled with you?"

"Never!"

"Nor complained of you at all?"

"No, mamma! The first intimation that I had of his displeasure was givenme the night of my arrival, when he betrayed some annoyance at my comingupon him suddenly without having previously written. I gave him what Isupposed to be sufficient reasons for my act--the same reasons that Iafterwards gave you. "

"They were perfectly satisfactory. And even if they had not been so, itwas no just cause for his behavior. Did he find fault with any part ofyour conduct previous to your arrival?"

"No, mamma; certainly not. I have told you so before. "

"And this is true?"

"As true as Heaven, mamma. "

"Then it is easy to fix upon the cause of his bad conduct. That girl. Itis a good thing she is dead, " hissed the elder lady between her teeth. 

She spoke in a tone too low to reach the ears of Berenice, who sat withher weeping face buried in her handkerchief. 

There was silence for a little while between the ladies. Berenice wasthe first to break it, by asking:

"Mamma, can you imagine where he is?"

"No, my love! And if I do not feel so anxious about him as you feel, itis because I know him better than you do. And I know that it is someunjustifiable caprice that is keeping him from his home. When he comesto his senses he will return. In the meanwhile, we must not, by any showof anxiety, give the servants or the neighbors any cause to gossip ofhis disappearance. And I must not have my plans upset by his whims. Ihave already delayed my departure for Washington longer than I like; andmy daughters have missed the great ball of the season. I am not willingto remain here any longer at all. And I think, also, that we shall bemore likely to meet Herman by going to town than by staying here. Washington is the great center of attraction at this season of the year. Everyone goes there. I have a pleasant furnished house on LafayetteSquare. It has been quite ready for our reception for the lastfortnight. Some of our servants have already gone up. So, my love, Ihave fixed our departure for Saturday morning, if you think you can beready by that time. If not, I can wait a day or two. "

"I thank you, mamma; I thank you very much; but pray do notinconvenience yourself on my account. I cannot go to town. I must stayhere and wait my husband's return--if he ever returns, " murmuredBerenice to herself. 

"But suppose he is in Washington?"

"Still, mamma, as he has not invited me to follow him, I prefer to stayhere. "

"But surely, child, you need no invitation to follow your husband, wherever he may be. "

"Indeed I do, mamma. I came to him from Europe here, and my doing sodispleased him and drove him away from his home. And I myself wouldreturn to my native country, only, now that I am in my husband's house, I feel that to leave it would be to abandon my post of duty and exposemyself to just censure. But I cannot follow him farther, mamma. Icannot! I must not obtrude myself upon his presence. I must remain hereand pray and hope for his return, " sighed the poor young wife. 

"Berenice, this is all wrong; you are morbid; not fit, in your presentstate of mind, to guide yourself. Be guided by me. Come with me toWashington. You will really enjoy yourself there--you cannot help it. Your beauty will make you the reigning belle; your taste will make youthe leader of fashion; and your title will constitute you the lioness ofthe season; for, mark you, Berenice, there is nothing, not even the'almighty dollar, ' that our consistent republicans fall down and worshipwith a sincerer homage than a title! All your combined attractions willmake you whatever you please to be. "

"Except the beloved of my husband, " murmured Berenice, in a low voice. 

"That also! for, believe me, my dear, many men admire and love throughother men's eyes. My son is one of the many. Nothing in this world wouldbring him to your side so quickly as to see you the center of attractionin the first circles of the capital. "

"Ah, madam, the situation would lack the charm of novelty to him; he hasbeen accustomed to seeing me fill similar ones in London and in Paris, "said the countess, with a proud though mournful smile. 

Mrs. Brudenell's face flushed as she became conscious of having made ablunder--a thing she abhorred, so she hastened to say:

"Oh, of course, my dear, I know, after the European courts, ourrepublican capital must seem an anti-climax! Still, it is the best thingI can offer you, and I counsel you to accept it. "

"I feel deeply grateful for your kindness, mamma; but you know I couldnot enter society, except under the auspices of my husband, " repliedBerenice. 

"You can enter society under the auspices of your husband's mother, thevery best chaperone you could possibly have, " said the lady coldly. 

"I know that, mamma. "

"Then you will come with us?"

"Excuse me, madam; indeed I am not thankless of your thought of me. ButI cannot go; for even if I had the spirits to sustain the role of awoman of fashion in the gay capital this winter, I feel that in doing soI should still further displease and alienate my husband. No, I mustremain here in retirement, doing what good I can, and hoping and prayingfor his return, " sighed Berenice. 

Mrs. Brudenell hastily rose from her seat. She was not accustomed toopposition; she was too proud to plead further; and she was very muchdispleased with Berenice for disappointing her cherished plan ofintroducing her daughter, the Countess of Hurstmonceux, to the circlesof Washington. 

"The first dinner bell has rung some time ago, my dear. I will notdetain you longer. Myself and daughters leave for town on Saturday. "

Berenice bowed gently, and went upstairs to change her dress for dinner. 

On Saturday, according to programme, Mrs. Brudenell and her daughterswent to town, traveling in their capacious family carriage, and Berenicewas left alone. Yes, she was left alone to a solitude of heart and homedifficult to be understood by beloved and happy wives and mothers. Thestrange, wild country, the large, empty house, the grotesque blackservants, were enough in themselves to depress the spirits and saddenthe heart of the young English lady. Added to these were the deep woundsher affections had received by the contemptuous desertion of herhusband; there was uncertainty of his fate, and keen anxiety for hissafety; and the slow, wasting soul-sickness of that fruitless hope whichis worse than despair. 

Every morning, on rising from her restless bed, she would say toherself:

"Herman will return or I shall get a letter from him to-day. "

Every night, on sinking upon her sleepless pillow, she would sigh:

"Another dreary day has gone and no news of Herman!"

Thus in feverish expectation the days crept into weeks. And with theextension of time hope grew more strained, tense, and painful. 

On Monday morning she would murmur:

"This week I shall surely hear from Herman, if I do not see him. "

And every Saturday night she would groan:

"Another miserable week, and no tidings of my husband. "

And thus the weeks slowly crept into months. 

Mrs. Brudenell wrote occasionally to say that Herman was not inWashington, and to ask if he was at Brudenell. That was all. The answerwas always, "Not yet. "

Berenice could not go out among the poor, as she had designed; for inthat wilderness of hill and valley, wood and water, the roads even inthe best weather were bad enough--but in mid-winter they were nearlyimpassable except by the hardiest pedestrians, the roughest horses, andthe strongest wagons. Very early in January there came a deep snow, followed by a sharp frost, and then by a warm rain and thaw, thatconverted the hills into seamed and guttered precipices; the valleysinto pools and quagmires; and the roads into ravines and rivers--quiteimpracticable for ordinary passengers. 

Berenice could not get out to do her deeds of charity among thesuffering poor; nor could the landed gentry of the neighborhood makecalls upon the young stranger. And thus the unloved wife had nothing todivert her thoughts from the one all-absorbing subject of her husband'sunexplained abandonment. The fire, that was consuming her life--the fireof "restless, unsatisfied longing"--burned fiercely in her cavernousdark eyes and the hollow crimson cheeks, lending wildness to the beautyof that face which it was slowly burning away. 

As spring advanced the ground improved. The hills dried first. And everyday the poor young stranger would wander up the narrow footpath that ledover the summit of the hill at the back of the house and down to a stileat a point on the turnpike that commanded a wide sweep of the road. Andthere, leaning on the rotary cross, she would watch morbidly for theform of him who never came back. 

Gossip was busy with her name, asking, Who this strange wife of Mr. Brudenell really was? Why he had abandoned her? And why Mrs. Brudenellhad left the house for good, taking her daughters with her? There weresome uneducated women among the wives and daughters of the wealthyplanters, and these wished to know, if the strange young woman wasreally the wife of Herman Brudenell, why she was called LadyHurstmonceux? and they thought that looked very black indeed; untilthey were laughed at and enlightened by their better informed friends, who instructed them that a woman once a peeress is always by courtesy apeeress, and retains her own title even though married to a commoner. 

Upon the whole the planters' wives decided to call upon the countess, once at least, to satisfy their curiosity. Afterwards they could visitor drop her as might seem expedient. 

Thus, as soon as the roads became passable, scarcely a day went by inwhich a large, lumbering family coach, driven by a negro coachman andattended by a negro groom on horseback, did not arrive at Brudenell. 

To one and all of these callers the same answer was returned:

"The Countess of Hurstmonceux is engaged, and cannot receive visitors. "

The tables were turned. The country ladies, who had been debating withthemselves whether to "take up" or "drop" this very questionablestranger, received their congée from the countess herself from thethreshold of her own door. The planters' wives were stunned! Each was anative queen, in her own little domain, over her own black subjects, andto meet with a repulse from a foreign countess was an incomprehensiblething!

The reverence for titled foreigners, for which we republicans have beenjustly laughed at, is confined exclusively to those large citiescorrupted by European intercourse. It does not exist in the interior ofthe country. For instance, in Maryland and Virginia the owner of a largeplantation had a domain greater in territorial extent, and a power overhis subjects more absolute, than that of any reigning grand-duke orsovereign prince in Germany or Italy. The planter was an absolutemonarch, his wife was his queen-consort; they saw no equals and knew nocontradiction in their own realm. Their neighbors were as powerful asthemselves. When they met, they met as peers on equal terms, the onlyprecedence being that given by courtesy. How, then, could the planter'swife appreciate the dignity of a countess, who, on state occasions, mustwalk behind a marchioness, who must walk behind a duchess, who must walkbehind a queen? Thus you see how it was that the sovereign ladies ofMaryland thought they were doing a very condescending thing in callingupon the young stranger whose husband had deserted her, and whosemother and sisters-in-law had left her alone; and that her ladyship hadcommitted a great act of ill-breeding and impertinence in decliningtheir visits. 

At the close of the Washington season Mrs. Brudenell and her daughtersreturned to the Hall. She told her friends that her son was traveling inEurope; but she told her daughter-in-law that she only hoped he wasdoing so; that she really had not heard a word from him, and did notknow anything whatever of his whereabouts. 

Mrs. Brudenell and her daughters received and paid visits; gave andattended parties, and made the house and the neighborhood very gay inthe pleasant summer time. 

Berenice did not enter into any of these amusements. She never acceptedan invitation to go out. And even when company was entertained at thehouse she kept her own suite of rooms and had her meals brought to herthere. Mrs. Brudenell was excessively displeased at a course of conductin her daughter-in-law that would naturally give rise to a great deal ofconjecture. She expostulated with Lady Hurstmonceux; but to no goodpurpose: for Berenice shrunk from company, replying to all argumentsthat could be urged upon her:

"I cannot--I cannot see visitors, mamma! It is quite--quite impossible. "

And then Mrs. Brudenell made a resolution, which she also kept--never tocome to Brudenell Hall for another summer until Herman should return tohis home and Berenice to her senses. And having so decided, she abridgedher stay and went away with her daughters to spend the remainder of thesummer at some pleasant watering-place in the North. 

And Berenice was once more left to solitude. 

Now, Lady Hurstmonceux was not naturally cold, or proud, or unsocial;but as surely as brains can turn, and hearts break, and women die ofgrief, she was crazy, heart-broken, and dying. 

She turned sick at the sight of every human face, because the one dearface she loved and longed for was not near. The pastor of the parish, with the benevolent perseverence of a true Christian, continued to callat the Hall long after every other human creature had ceased to visitthe place. But Lady Hurstmonceux steadily refused to receive him. 

She never went to church. Her cherished sorrow grew morbid; her hopelesshope became a monomania; her life narrowed down to one mournfulroutine. She went nowhere but to the turnstile on the turnpike, whereshe leaned upon the rotary cross, and watched the road. 

Even to this day the pale, despairing, but most beautiful face of thatyoung watcher is remembered in that neighborhood. 

Only very recently a lady who had lived in that vicinity said to me, inspeaking of this young forsaken wife--this stranger in our land:

"Yes, every day she walked slowly up that narrow path to the turnstile, and stood leaning on the cross and gazing up the road, to watch forhim--every day, rain or shine; in all weathers and seasons; for monthsand years. "

CHAPTER XIX. 

NOBODY'S SON. 

 Not blest? not saved? Who dares to doubt all well With holy innocence? We scorn the creed And tell thee truer than the bigots tell, -- That infants all are Jesu's lambs indeed. 

 --_Martin F. Tupper_. 

 But thou wilt burst this transient sleep, And thou wilt wake my babe to weep; The tenant of a frail abode, Thy tears must flow as mine have flowed: And thou may'st live perchance to prove The pang of unrequited love. 

 --_Byron_. 

Ishmael lived. Poor, thin, pale, sick; sent too soon into the world;deprived of all that could nurture healthy infant life; fed onuncongenial food; exposed in that bleak hut to the piercing cold of thatsevere winter; tended only by a poor old maid who honestly wished hisdeath as the best good that could happen to him--Ishmael lived. 

One day it occurred to Hannah that he was created to live. This beingso, and Hannah being a good churchwoman, she thought she would have himbaptized. He had no legal name; but that was no reason why he should notreceive a Christian one. The cruel human law discarded him as nobody'schild; the merciful Christian law claimed him as one "of the kingdom ofHeaven. " The human law denied him a name; the Christian law offered himone. 

The next time the pastor in going his charitable rounds among his poorparishioners, called at the hut, the weaver mentioned the subject andbegged him to baptize the boy then and there. 

But the reverend gentleman, who was a high churchman, replied:

"I will cheerfully administer the rites of baptism to the child; but youmust bring him to the altar to receive them. Nothing but imminent dangerof death can justify the performance of those sacred rites at any otherplace. Bring the boy to church next Sabbath afternoon. "

"What! bring this child to church!--before all the congregation! Ishould die of mortification!" said Hannah. 

"Why? Are you to blame for what has happened? Or is he? Even if the boywere what he is supposed to be, --the child of sin, --it would not be hisfault. Do you think in all the congregation there is a soul whiter thanthat of this child? Has not the Saviour said, 'Suffer little children tocome unto me and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of Heaven?'Bring the boy to church, Hannah! bring the boy to church, " said thepastor, as he took up his hat and departed. 

Accordingly the next Sabbath afternoon Hannah Worth took Ishmael to thechurch, which was, as usual, well filled. 

Poor Hannah! Poor, gentle-hearted, pure-spirited old maid! She sat therein a remote corner pew, hiding her child under her shawl and hushing himwith gentle caresses during the whole of the afternoon service. And whenafter the last lesson had been read the minister came down to the fontand said: "Any persons present having children to offer for baptism willnow bring them forward, " Hannah felt as if she would faint. Butsummoning all her resolution, she arose and came out of her pew, carrying the child. Every eye in the church turned full upon her. Therewas no harm meant in this; people will gaze at every such a littlespectacle; a baby going to be baptized, if nothing else is to be had. But to Hannah's humbled spirit and sinking heart, to carry that child upthat aisle under the fire of those eyes seemed like running a blockadeof righteous indignation that appeared to surround the altar. But shedid it. With downcast looks and hesitating steps she approached andstood at the font--alone--the target of every pair of eyes in thecongregation. Only a moment she stood thus, when a countryman, with astart, left one of the side benches and came and stood by her side. 

It was Reuben Gray, who, standing by her, whispered:

"Hannah, woman, why didn't you let me know? I would have come and sat inthe pew with you and carried the child. "

"Oh, Reuben, why will you mix yourself up with me and my miseries?"sighed Hannah. 

"'Cause we are one, my dear woman, and so I can't help it, " murmured theman. 

There was no time for more words. The minister began the services. Reuben Gray offered himself as sponsor with Hannah, who had no right torefuse this sort of copartnership. 

The child was christened Ishmael Worth, thus receiving both given andsurname at the altar. 

When the afternoon worship was concluded and they left the church, Reuben Gray walked beside Hannah, begging for the privilege of carryingthe child--a privilege Hannah grimly refused. 

Reuben, undismayed, walked by her side all the way from Baymouth churchto the hut on the hill, a distance of three miles. And taking advantageof that long walk, he pleaded with Hannah to reconsider her refusal andto become his wife. 

"After a bit, we can go away and take the boy with us and bring him upas our'n. And nobody need to know any better, " he pleaded. 

But this also Hannah grimly refused. 

When they reached the hut she turned upon him and said:

"Reuben Gray, I will bear my miseries and reproaches myself! I will bearthem alone! Your duty is to your sisters. Go to them and forget me. " Andso saying she actually shut the door in his face!

Reuben went away crestfallen. 

But Hannah! poor Hannah! she never anticipated the full amount of miseryand reproach she would have to bear alone!

A few weeks passed and the money she had saved was all spent. No morework was brought to her to do. A miserable consciousness of lost casteprevented her from going to seek it. She did not dream of the extent ofher misfortune; she did not know that even if she had sought work fromher old employers, it would have been refused her. 

One day when the Professor of Odd Jobs happened to be making aprofessional tour in her way, and called at the hut to see if hisservices might be required there, she gave him a commission to seek workfor her among the neighboring farmers and planters--a duty that theprofessor cheerfully undertook. 

But when she saw him again, about ten days after, and inquired about hissuccess in procuring employment for her, he shook his head, saying:

"There's a plenty of weaving waiting to be done everywhere, MissHannah--which it stands to reason there would be at this season of theyear. There's all the cotton cloth for the negroes' summer clothes to bewove; but, Miss Hannah, to tell you the truth, the ladies as I'vementioned it to refuses to give the work to you. "

"But why?" inquired the poor woman, in alarm. 

"Well, Miss Hannah, because of what has happened, you know. The world isvery unjust, Miss Hannah! And women are more unjust than men. If 'man'sinhumanity to man makes countless thousands mourn, ' I'm sure women'scruelty to women makes angels weep!" And here the professor, havinglighted upon a high-toned subject and a helpless hearer, launched into along oration I have not space to report. He ended by saying:

"And now, Miss Hannah, if I were you I would not expose myself toaffronts by going to seek work. "

"But what can I do, Morris? Must I starve, and let the child starve?"asked the weaver, in despair. 

"Well, no, Miss Hannah; me and my ole 'oman must see what we can do foryou. She aint as young as she used to be, and she mustn't work so hard. She must part with some of her own spinning and weaving to you. And Imust work a little harder to pay for it. Which I am very willing to do;for I say, Hannah, when an able-bodied man is not willing to shift theburden off his wife's shoulders on to his own, he is unworthy to be--"

Here the professor launched into a second oration, longer than thefirst. In conclusion, he said:

"And so, Miss Hannah, we will give you what work we have to put out. Andyou must try and knock along and do as well as you can this season. Andbefore the next the poor child will die, and the people will forget allabout it, and employ you again. "

"But the child is not a-going to die!" burst forth Hannah, inexasperation. "If he was the son of rich parents, whose hearts lay inhim, and who piled comforts and luxuries and elegances upon him, andfell down and worshiped him, and had a big fortune and a great name toleave him, and so did everything they possibly could to keep him alive, he'd die! But being what he is, a misery and shame to himself and allconnected with him, he'll live! Yes, half-perished as he is with coldand famine, he'll live! Look at him now!"

The professor did turn and look at the little, thin, wizen-faced boy wholay upon the bed, contentedly sucking his skinny thumb, and regardingthe speaker with big, bright, knowing eyes, that seemed to say:

"Yes, I mean to suck my thumb and live!"

"To tell you the truth, I think so, too, " said the professor, scarcelycertain whether he was replying to the words of Hannah or to the looksof the child. 

It is certain that the dread of death and the desire of life is the veryearliest instinct of every animate creature. Perhaps this child wasendowed with excessive vitality. Certainly, the babe's persistence inliving on "under difficulties" might have been the germ of that enormousstrength and power of will for which the man was afterwards so noted. 

The professor kept his word with Hannah, and brought her some work. Butthe little that he could afford to pay for it was not sufficient tosupply one-fourth of Hannah's necessities. 

At last came a day when her provisions were all gone. And Hannah lockedthe child up alone in the hut and set off to walk to Baymouth, to try toget some meal and bacon on credit from the country shop where she haddealt all her life. 

Baymouth was a small port, at the mouth of a small bay making up fromthe Chesapeake. It had one church, in charge of the Episcopal ministerwho had baptized Nora's child. And it had one large, country store, keptby a general dealer named Nutt, who had for sale everything to eat, drink, wear, or wield, from sugar and tea to meat and fish; from linencambric to linsey-woolsey; from bonnets and hats to boots and shoes;from new milk to old whisky; from fresh eggs to stale cheese; and fromneedles and thimbles to plows and harrows. 

Hannah, as I said, had been in the habit of dealing at this shop all herlife, and paying cash for everything she got. So now, indeed, she mightreasonably ask for a little credit, a little indulgence until she couldprocure work. Yet, for all that, she blushed and hesitated at having toask the unusual favor. She entered the store and found the dealer alone. She was glad of that, as she rather shrank from preferring her humblerequest before witnesses. Mr. Nutt hurried forward to wait on her. Hannah explained her wants, and then added:

"If you will please credit me for the things, Mr. Nutt, I will be sureto pay you the first of the month. "

The dealer looked at the customer and then looked down at the counter, but made no reply. 

Hannah, seeing his hesitation, hastened to say that she had been out ofwork all the winter and spring, but that she hoped soon to get somemore, when she would be sure to pay her creditor. 

"Yes, I know you have lost your employment, poor girl, and I fear thatyou will not get it again, " said the dealer, with a look of compassion. 

"But why, oh! why should I not be allowed to work, when I do my work sowillingly and so well?" exclaimed Hannah, in, despair. 

"Well, my dear girl, if you do not know the reason, I cannot be the manto tell you. "

"But if I cannot get work, what shall I do? Oh! what shall I do? Icannot starve! And I cannot see the child starve!" exclaimed Hannah, clasping her hands and raising her eyes in earnest appeal to thejudgment of the man who had known her from infancy: who was old enoughto be her father, and who had a wife and grown daughter of his own:

"What shall I do? Oh! what shall I do?" she repeated. 

Mr. Nutt still seemed to hesitate and reflect, stealing furtive glancesat the anxious face of the woman. At last he bent across the counter, took her hand, and, bending his head close to her face, whispered:

"I'll tell you what, Hannah. I will let you have the articles you haveasked for, and anything else in my store that you want, and I will nevercharge you anything for them--"

"Oh, sir, I couldn't think of imposing on your goodness so: The Lordreward you, sir! but I only want a little credit for a short time, "broke out Hannah, in the warmth of her gratitude. 

"But stop, hear me out, my dear girl! I was about to say you might cometo my store and get whatever you want, at any time, without payment, ifyou will let me drop in and see you sometimes of evenings, " whisperedthe dealer. 

"Sir!" said Hannah, looking up in innocent perplexity. 

The man repeated his proposal with a look that taught even Hannah'ssimplicity that she had received the deepest insult a woman couldsuffer. Hannah was a rude, honest, high-spirited old maid. And sheimmediately obeyed her natural impulses, which were to raise her stronghands and soundly box the villain's ears right and left, until he sawmore stars in the firmament than had ever been created. And before hecould recover from the shock of the assault she picked up her basket andstrode from the shop. Indignation lent her strength and speed, and shewalked home in double-quick time. But once in the shelter of her own hutshe sat down, threw her apron over her head, and burst into passionatetears and sobs, crying:

"It's all along of poor Nora and that child, as I'm thought ill on bythe women and insulted by the men! Yes, it is, you miserable littlewretch!" she added, speaking to the baby, who had opened his big eyes tosee the cause of the uproar. "It's all on her account and yourn, as I'mtreated so! Why do you keep on living, you poor little shrimp? Why don'tyou die? Why can't both of us die? Many people die who want to live! Whyshould we live who want to die? Tell me that, little miserable!" But thebaby defiantly sucked his thumb, as if it held the elixir of life, andlooked indestructible vitality from his great, bright eyes. 

Hannah never ventured to ask another favor from mortal man, except thevery few in whom she could place entire confidence, such as the pastorof the parish, the Professor of Odd Jobs, and old Jovial. Especially sheshunned Nutt's shop as she would have shunned a pesthouse; although thiscourse obliged her to go two miles farther to another village to procurenecessaries whenever she had money to pay for them. 

Nutt, on his part, did not think it prudent to prosecute Hannah forassault. But he did a base thing more fatal to her reputation. He toldhis wife how that worthless creature, whose sister turned out so badly, had come running after him, wanting to get goods from his shop, andteasing him to come to see her; but that he had promptly ordered her outof the shop and threatened her with a constable if ever she dared toshow her face there again. 

False, absurd, and cruel as this story was, Mrs. Nutt believed it, andtold all her acquaintances what an abandoned wretch that woman was. Andthus poor Hannah Worth lost all that she possessed in the world--hergood name. She had been very poor. But it would be too dreadful now totell in detail of the depths of destitution and misery into which sheand the child fell, and in which they suffered and struggled to keepsoul and body together for years and years. 

It is wonderful how long life may be sustained under the severestprivations. Ishmael suffered the extremes of hunger and cold; yet he didnot starve or freeze to death; he lived and grew in that mountain hut aspertinaciously as if he had been the pampered pet of some royal nursery. 

At first Hannah did not love him. Ah, you know, such unwelcome childrenare seldom loved, even by their parents. But this child was so patientand affectionate, that it must have been an unnatural heart that wouldnot have been won by his artless efforts to please. He bore hunger andcold and weariness with baby heroism. And if you doubt whether there isany such a thing in the world as "baby heroism", just visit the nurseryhospitals of New York, and look at the cheerfulness of infant sufferersfrom disease. 

Ishmael was content to sit upon the floor all day long, with his bigeyes watching Hannah knit, sew, spin, or weave, as the case might be. And if she happened to drop her thimble, scissors, spool of cotton, orball of yarn, Ishmael would crawl after it as fast as his feeble littlelimbs would take him, and bring it back and hold it up to her with asmile of pleasure, or, if the feat had been a fine one, a little laughof triumph. Thus, even before he could walk, he tried to make himselfuseful. It was his occupation to love Hannah, and watch her, and crawlafter anything she dropped and restore it to her. Was this such a smallservice? No; for it saved the poor woman the trouble of getting up andderanging her work to chase rolling balls of yarn around the room. Orwas it a small pleasure to the lonely old maid to see the child smilelovingly up in her face as he tendered her these baby services? I thinknot. Hannah grew to love little Ishmael. Who, indeed, could havereceived all his innocent overtures of affection and not loved him alittle in return? Not honest Hannah Worth. It was thus, you see, by hisown artless efforts that he won his grim aunt's heart. This was ourboy's first success. And the truth may as well be told of him now, thatin the whole course of his eventful life he gained no earthly good whichhe did not earn by his own merits. But I must hurry over this part of mystory. 

When Ishmael was about four years old he began to take pleasure in thequaint pictures of the old family Bible, that I have mentioned as theonly book and sole literary possession of Hannah Worth. A rare old copyit was, bearing the date of London, 1720, and containing the strangestof all old old-fashioned engravings. But to the keenly appreciating mindof the child these pictures were a gallery of art. And on Sundayafternoons, when Hannah had leisure to exhibit them, Ishmael neverwearied of standing by her side, and gazing at the illustrations of"Cain and Abel, " "Joseph Sold by his Brethren, " "Moses in theBulrushes, " "Samuel Called by the Lord, " "John the Baptist and theInfant Jesus, " "Christ and the Doctors in the Temple, " and so forth. 

"Read me about it, " he would say of each picture. 

And Hannah would have to read these beautiful Bible stories. One day, when he was about five years old, he astonished his aunt by saying:

"And now I want to read about them for myself!"

But Hannah found no leisure to teach him. And besides she thought itwould be time enough some years to come for Ishmael to learn to read. Sothought not our boy, however, as a few days proved. 

One night Hannah had taken home a dress to one of the plantationnegroes, who were now her only customers, and it was late when shereturned to the hut. When she opened the door a strange sight met hereyes. The Professor of Odd Jobs occupied the seat of honor in the armchair in the chimney corner. On his knees lay the open Bible; while byhis side stood little Ishmael, holding an end of candle in his hand, anddiligently conning the large letters on the title page. The littlefellow looked up with his face full of triumph, exclaiming:

"Oh, aunty, I know all the letters on this page now! And the professoris going to teach me to read! And I am going to help him gather hisherbs and roots every day to pay him for his trouble!"

The professor looked up and smiled apologetically, saying:

"I just happened in, Miss Hannah, to see if there was anything wantingto be done, and I found this boy lying on the floor with the Bible openbefore him trying to puzzle out the letters for himself. And as soon ashe saw me he up and struck a bargain with me to teach him to read. AndI'll tell you what, Miss Hannah, he's going to make a man one of thesedays! You know I've been a colored schoolmaster, among my otherprofessions, and I tell you I never came across such a quick littlefellow as he is, bless his big head! There now, my little man, that'slearning enough for one sitting. And besides the candle is going out, "concluded the professor, as he arose and closed the book and departed. 

But again Ishmael held a different opinion from his elders; and lyingdown before the fire-lit hearth, with the book open before him, he wentover and over his lesson, grafting it firmly in his memory lest itshould escape him. In this way our boy took his first step in knowledge. Two or three times in the course of the week the professor would come togive him another lesson. And Ishmael paid for his tuition by doing theleast of the little odd jobs for the professor of that useful art. 

"You see I can feel for the boy like a father, Miss Hannah, " said theprofessor, after giving his lesson one evening; "because, you know, I amin a manner self-educated myself. I had to pick up reading, writing, and'rithmetick any way I could from the white children. So I can feel forthis boy as I once felt for myself. All my children are girls; but if Ihad a son I couldn't feel more pride in him than I do in this boy. And Itell you again, he is going to make a man one of these days. "

Ishmael thought so too. He had previsions of future success, as everyvery intelligent lad must have; but at present his ambition took no verylofty flights. The greatest man of his acquaintance was the Professor ofOdd Jobs. And to attain the glorious eminence occupied by the learnedand eloquent dignitary was the highest aspiration of our boy's earlygenius. 

"Aunty, " he said one day, after remaining in deep thought for a longtime, "do you think if I was to study very hard indeed, night and day, for years and years, I should ever be able to get as much knowledge andmake as fine speeches as the professor?"

"How do I know, Ishmael? You ask such stupid questions. All I can sayis, if it aint in you it will never come out of you, " answered theunappreciating aunt. 

"Oh, if that's all, it is in me; there's a deal more in me than I cantalk about; and so I believe I shall be able to make fine speeches likethe professor some day. "

Morris certainly took great pains with his pupil; and Ishmael repaid histeacher's zeal by the utmost devotion to his service. 

By the time our boy had attained his seventh year he could readfluently, write legibly, and work the first four rules in arithmetic. Besides this, he had glided into a sort of apprenticeship to the odd-jobline of business, and was very useful to his principal. The manner inwhich he helped his master was something like this: If the odd job onhand happened to be in the tinkering line, Ishmael could heat the ironsand prepare the solder; if it were in the carpentering and joiningbranch, he could melt the glue; if in the brick-laying, he could mix themortar; if in the painting and glazing, he could roll the putty. 

When he was eight years old he commenced the study of grammar, geography, and history, from old books lent him by his patron; and healso took a higher degree in his art, and began to assist his master bydoing the duties of clerk and making the responses, whenever theprofessor assumed the office of parson and conducted the church servicesto a barn full of colored brethren; by performing the part of mournerwhenever the professor undertook to superintend a funeral; and byplaying the tambourine in accompaniment to the professor's violinwhenever the latter became master of ceremonies for a colored ball!

In this manner he not only paid for his own tuition, but earned a verysmall stipend, which it was his pride to carry to Hannah, promising herthat some day soon he should be able to earn enough to support her incomfort. 

Thus our boy was rapidly progressing in the art of odd jobs and biddingfair to emulate the fame and usefulness of the eminent professorhimself, when an event occurred in the neighborhood that was destined tochange the direction of his genius. 

CHAPTER XX. 

NEWS FROM HERMAN. 

 But that which keepeth us apart is not Distance, nor depth of wave, nor space of earth, But the distractions of a various lot, As various as the climates of our birth. 

 My blood is all meridian--were it not I had not left my clime, nor should I be, In spite of tortures, ne'er to be forgot, A slave again of love, at least of thee!

 --_Byron_. 

The life of Berenice was lonely enough. She had perseveringly rejectedthe visits of her neighbors, until at length they had taken her at herword and kept away from her house. 

She had persistently declined the invitations of Mrs. Brudenell to jointhe family circle at Washington every winter, until at last that ladyhad ceased to repeat them and had also discontinued her visits toBrudenell Hall. 

Berenice passed her time in hoping and praying for her husband's return, and in preparing and adorning her home for his reception; in trainingand improving the negroes; in visiting and relieving the poor; and inwalking to the turnstile and watching the high-road. 

Surely a more harmless and beneficent life could not be led by woman;yet the poisonous alchemy of detraction turned all her good deeds intoevil ones. 

Poor Berenice--poor in love, was rich in gold, and she lavished it withan unsparing hand on the improvement of Brudenell. She did not feel atliberty to pull down and build up, else had the time-worn old mansionhouse disappeared from sight and a new and elegant villa had reared itswalls upon Brudenell Heights. But she did everything else she could toenhance the beauty and value of the estate. 

The house was thoroughly repaired, refurnished, and decorated with greatluxury, richness, and splendor. The grounds were laid out, planted, andadorned with all the beauty that taste, wealth, and skill could produce. Orchards and vineyards were set out. Conservatories and pineries wereerected. The negroes' squalid log-huts were replaced with neat stonecottages, and the shabby wooden fences by substantial stone walls. 

And all this was done, not for herself, but for her husband, and herconstant mental inquiry was:

"After all, will Herman be pleased?"

Yet when the neighbors saw this general renovation, of the estate, whichcould not have been accomplished without considerable expenditure oftime, money, and labor, they shook their heads in strong disapprobation, and predicted that that woman's extravagance would bring HermanBrudenell to beggary yet. 

She sought to raise the condition of the negroes, not only by givingthem neat cottages, but by comfortably furnishing their rooms, andencouraging them to keep their little houses and gardens in order, rewarding them for neatness and industry, and established a school fortheir children to learn to read and write. But the negroes--hereditaryservants of the Brudenells--looked upon this stranger with jealousdistrust, as an interloping foreigner who had, by some means or other, managed to dispossess and drive away the rightful family from the oldplace. And so they regarded all her favors as a species of bribery, andthanked her for none of them. And this was really not ingratitude, butfidelity. The neighbors denounced these well-meant efforts of themistress as dangerous innovations, incendiarisms, and so forth, andthanked Heaven that the Brudenell negroes were too faithful to be ledaway by her!

She went out among the poor of her neighborhood and relieved their wantswith such indiscriminate and munificent generosity as to draw down uponherself the rebuke of the clergy for encouraging habits of improvidenceand dependence in the laboring classes. As for the subjects of herbenevolence, they received her bounty with the most extravagantexpressions of gratitude and the most fulsome flattery. This was sodistasteful to Berenice that she oftened turned her face away, blushingwith embarrassment at having listened to it. Yet such was the gentlenessof her spirit, that she never wounded their feelings by letting them seethat she distrusted the sincerity of these hyperbolical phrases. 

"Poor souls, " she said to herself, "it is the best they have to offerme, and I will take it as if it were genuine. "

Berenice was right in her estimate of their flattery. Astonished at herlavish generosity, and ignorant of her great wealth, which madealms-giving easy, her poor neighbors put their old heads together tofind out the solution of the problem. And they came to the conclusionthat this lady must have been a great sinner, whose husband hadabandoned her for some very good reason, and who was now endeavoring toatone for her sins by a life of self-denial and benevolence. Thisconclusion seemed too probable to be questioned. This verdict wasbrought to the knowledge of Berenice in a curious way. Among therecipients of her bounty was Mrs. Jones, the ladies' nurse. The oldwoman had fallen into a long illness, and consequently into extremewant. Her case came to the knowledge of Berenice, who hastened torelieve her. When the lady had made the invalid comfortable and wasabout to take leave, the latter said:

"Ah, 'charity covers a multitude of sins, ' ma'am! Let us hope that allyours may be so covered. "

Berenice stared in surprise. It was not the words so much as the mannerthat shocked her. And Phoebe, who had attended her mistress, scarcelygot well out of the house before her indignation burst forth in theexpletives:

"Old brute! Whatever did she mean by her insolence? My lady, I hope youwill do nothing more for the old wretch. "

Berenice walked on in silence until they reached the spot where they hadleft their carriage, and when they had re-entered it, she said:

"Something like this has vaguely met me before; but never so plainly andbluntly as to-day; it is unpleasant; but I must not punish one poor oldwoman for a misapprehension shared by the whole community. "

So calmly and dispassionately had the countess answered her attendant'sindignant exclamation. But as soon as Berenice reached her own chambershe dismissed her maid, locked her door, and gave herself up to apassion of grief. 

It was but a trifle--that coarse speech of a thoughtless old woman--amere trifle; but it overwhelmed her, coming, as it did, after all thathad gone before. It was but the last feather, you know, only a singlefeather laid on the pack that broke the camel's back. It was but a dropof water, a single drop, that made the full cup overflow!

Added to bereavement, desertion, loneliness, slander, ingratitude, hadcome this little bit of insolence to overthrow the firmness that hadstood all the rest. And Berenice wept. 

She had left home, friends, and country for one who repaid the sacrificeby leaving her. She had lavished her wealth upon those who received herbounty with suspicion and repaid her kindness with ingratitude. She hadlived a life as blameless and as beneficent as that of any old timesaint or martyr, and had won by it nothing but detraction and calumny. Her parents were dead, her husband gone, her native land far away, herhopes were crushed. No wonder she wept. And then the countess was out ofher sphere; as much out of her sphere in the woods of Maryland as HansChristian Andersen's cygnet was in the barnyard full of fowls. She was aswan, and they took her for a deformed duck. And at last she herselfbegan to be vaguely conscious of this. 

"Why do I remain here?" she moaned; "what strange magnetic power is itthat holds my very will, fettered here, against my reason and judgment?That has so held me for long years? Yes, for long, weary years have Ibeen bound to this cross, and I am not dead yet! Heavenly Powers! whatare my nerves and brain and heart made of that I am not dead, or mad, orcriminal before this? Steel, and rock, and gutta percha, I think! Notmere flesh and blood and bone like other women's? Oh, why do I stayhere? Why do I not go home? I have lost everything else; but I havestill a home and country left! Oh, that I could break loose! Oh, that Icould free myself! Oh, that I had the wings of a dove, for then I wouldfly away and be at rest!'" she exclaimed, breaking into the patheticlanguage of the Psalmist. 

A voice softly stole upon her ear, a low, plaintive voice singing ahomely Scotch song:

 "'Oh, it's hame, hame, hame, Hame fain would I be; But the wearie never win back To their ain countrie. '"

Tears sprang again to the eyes of the countess as she caught up andmurmured the last two lines:

 "'But the wearie never win back To their ain countrie. '"

Phoebe, for it was she who was singing, hushed her song as she reachedher lady's door, and knocked softly. The countess unlocked the door toadmit her. 

"It is only the mail bag, my lady, that old Jovial has just brought fromthe post office, " said the girl. 

Lady Hurstmonceux listlessly looked over its contents. Several years ofdisappointment had worn out all expectation of hearing from the only oneof whom she cared to receive news. There were home and foreignnewspapers that she threw carelessly out. And there was one letter atthe bottom of all the rest that she lifted up and looked at with languidcuriosity. But as soon as her eyes fell upon the handwriting of thesuperscription the letter dropped from her hand and she sank back in herchair and quietly fainted away. 

Phoebe hastened to apply restoratives, and after a few minutes thelady recovered consciousness and rallied her faculties. 

"The letter! the letter, girl! give me the letter!" she gasped in eagertones. 

Phoebe picked it up from the carpet, upon which it had fallen, andhanded it to her mistress. 

Berenice, with trembling fingers, broke the seal and read the letter. Itwas from Herman Brudenell, and ran as follows:

 "London, December 1, 18--

 "Lady Hurstmonceux: If there is one element of saving comfort in my lost, unhappy life, it is the reflection that, though in an evil hour I made you my wife, you are not called by my name; but that the courtesy of custom continues to you the title won by your first marriage with the late Earl of Hurstmonceux; and that you cannot therefore so deeply dishonor my family. 

 "Madam, it would give me great pain to write to any other woman, however guilty, as I am forced to write to you; because on any woman I should feel that I was inflicting suffering, which you know too well I have not--never had the nerve to do; but you, I know, cannot be hurt; you are callous. If your early youth had not shown you to be so, the last few years of your life would have proved it. If you had not been so insensible to shame as you are to remorse, how could you, after your great crime, take possession of my house and, by so doing, turn my mother and sisters from their home and banish me from my country? For well you know that, while you live at Brudenell Hall, my family cannot re-enter its walls! Nay, more--while you choose to reside in America, I must remain an exile in Europe. The same hemisphere is not broad enough to contain the Countess of Hurstmonceux and Herman Brudenell. 

 "I have given you a long time to come to your senses and leave my house. Now my patience is exhausted, and I require you to depart. You are not embarrassed for a home or a support: if you were I should afford you both, on condition of your departure from America. But my whole patrimony would be but a mite added to your treasures. 

 "You have country-seats in England, Scotland, and Ireland, as well as a town house in London, a marine villa at Boulougne, and a Swiss cottage on Lake Leman. All these are your own; and you shall never be molested by me in your exclusive possession of them. Choose your residence from among them, and leave me in peaceable possession of the one modest countryhouse I have inherited in my native land. I wish to sell it. 

 "But you doubtless have informed yourself before this time, that by the laws of the State in which my property is situated, a man cannot sell his homestead without the consent of his wife. Your co-operation is therefore necessary in the sale of Brudenell Hall. I wish you to put yourself in immediate communication with my solicitors, Messrs. Kage & Kage, Monument Street, Baltimore, who are in possession of my instructions. Do this promptly, and win from me the only return you have left it in my power to make you--oblivion of your crimes and of yourself. 

 "Herman Brudenell. "

With the calmness of despair Berenice read this cruel letter through tothe end, and dropped it on her lap, and sat staring at it in silence. Then, as if incredulous of its contents, or doubtful of its meaning, shetook it up and read it again, and again let it fall. And yet a thirdtime--after rapidly passing her hand to and fro across her forehead, asif that action would clear her vision--she raised, re-perused, and laidaside the letter. Then she firmly set her teeth, and slowly nodded herhead, while for an instant a startling light gleamed from her deep blackeyes. 

Her faithful attendant, while seeming to be busy arranging the flasks onthe dressing-table, furtively and anxiously watched her mistress, who atlast spoke:

"Phoebe!"

"Yes, my lady. "

"Bring me a glass of wine. "

The girl brought the required stimulant, and in handing it to hermistress noticed how deadly white her face had become. And as thecountess took the glass from the little silver waiter her hand came incontact with that of Phoebe, and the girl felt as if an icicle hadtouched her, so cold it was. 

"Now wheel my writing-desk forward, " said the countess, as she sippedher wine. 

The order was obeyed. 

"And now, " continued the lady, as she replaced the glass and opened herdesk, "pack up my wardrobe and jewels, and your own clothes. Order thecarriage to be at the door at eight o'clock, to take us to Baymouth. Weleave Baymouth for New York to-morrow morning, and New York forLiverpool next Saturday. "

"Now, glory be to Heaven for that, my lady; and I wish it had been yearsago instead of to-day!" joyfully exclaimed the girl, as she went abouther business. 

"And so do I! And so do I, with all my heart and soul!" thoughtBerenice, as she arranged her papers and took up a pen to write. In aninstant she laid it down again, and arose and walked restlessly up anddown the floor, wringing her hands, and muttering to herself:

"And this is the man for whose sake I sacrificed home, friends, country, and the most splendid prospects that ever dazzled the imagination ofwoman! This is the man whom I have loved and watched and prayed for, allthese long years, hoping against hope, and believing against knowledge. If he had ceased to love me, grown tired of me, and wished to be rid ofme, could he not have told me so, frankly, from the first? It would havebeen less cruel than to have inflicted on me this long anguish ofsuspense! less cowardly than to have attempted to justify his desertionof me by a charge of crime! What crime--he knows no more than I do! Oh, Herman! Herman! how could you fall so low? But I will not reproach youeven in my thoughts. But I must, I must forget you!"

She returned to her desk, sat down and took up her pen; but again shedropped it, bowed her head upon her desk, and wept:

"Oh, Herman! Herman! must I never hope to meet you again? never lookinto your dark eyes, never clasp your hand, or hear your voice again?never more? never more! Must mine be the hand that writes our sentenceof separation? I cannot! oh! I cannot do it, Herman! And yet!--it is youwho require it!"

After a few minutes she took up his letter and read it over for thefourth time. Its ruthless implacability seemed to give her the strengthnecessary to obey its behests. As if fearing another failure of herresolution, she wrote at once:

 "Brudenell Hall, December 30, 18--

 "Mr. Brudenell: Your letter has relieved me from an embarrassing position. I beg your pardon for having been for so long a period an unconscious usurper of your premises. I had mistaken this place for my husband's house and my proper home. My mistake, however, has not extended to the appropriation of the revenues of the estate. You will find every dollar of those placed to your credit in the Planters' Bank of Baymouth. My mistake has been limited to the occupancy of the house. For that wrong I shall make what reparation remains in my power. I shall leave this place this Friday evening; see your solicitors on Monday; place in their hands a sum equivalent to the full value of Brudenell Hall, as a compensation to you for my long use of the house; and then sign whatever documents may be necessary to renounce all claim upon yourself and your estate, and to free you forever from

 "Berenice, Countess of Hurstmonceux. "

She finished the letter and threw down the pen. What it had cost her towrite thus, only her own loving and outraged woman's heart knew. 

By the time she had sealed her letter Phoebe entered to say that thedinner was served--that solitary meal at which she had sat down, heart-broken, for so many weary years. 

She answered, "Very well, " but never stirred from her seat. 

Phoebe fidgeted about the room for a while, and then, with the freedomof a favorite attendant, she came to the side of the countess and, smiling archly, said:

"My lady. "

"Well, Phoebe?"

"People needn't starve, need they, because they are going back to their'ain countrie'?"

Lady Hurstmonceux smiled faintly, roused herself, and went down todinner. 

On her return to her room she found her maid locking the last trunks. 

"Is everything packed, Phoebe?"

"Except the dress you have on, my lady; and I can lay that on the top ofthis trunk after you put on your traveling dress. "

"And you are glad we are going home, my girl?"

"Oh, my lady, I feel as if I could just spread out my arms and fly forjoy. "

"Then I am, also, for your sake. What time is it now?"

"Five o'clock, my lady. "

"Three hours yet. Tell Mrs. Spicer to come here. "

Phoebe locked the trunk she had under her hand and went out to obey. When Mrs. Spicer came in she was startled by the intelligence that herlady was going away immediately, and that the house was to be shut upuntil the arrival of Mr. Brudenell or his agents, who would arrange forits future disposition. 

When Lady Hurstmonceux had finished these instructions she placed aliberal sum of money in the housekeeper's hands, with orders to divideit among the house-servants. 

Next she sent for Grainger, the overseer, and having given him the sameinformation, and put a similar sum of money in his hands fordistribution among the negroes, she dismissed both the housekeeper andthe overseer. Then she enclosed a note for a large amount in a letteraddressed to the pastor of the parish, with a request that he wouldappropriate it for the relief of the suffering poor in thatneighborhood. Finally, having completed all her preparations, she took acup of tea, bade farewell to her dependents, and, attended by Phoebe, entered the carriage and was driven to Baymouth, where she posted hertwo letters in time for the evening mail, and where the next morning shetook the boat for Baltimore, en route for the North. She stopped inBaltimore only long enough to arrange business with Mr. Brudenell'ssolicitors, and then proceeded to New York, whence, at the end of thesame week, she sailed for Liverpool. Thus the beautiful young EnglishJewess, who had dropped for a while like some rich exotic flowertransplanted to our wild Maryland woods, returned to her native land, where, let us hope, she found in an appreciating circle of friends someconsolation for the loss of that domestic happiness that had been socruelly torn from her. 

We shall meet with Berenice, Countess of Hurstmonceux, again; but itwill be in another sphere, and under other circumstances. 

It was in the spring succeeding her departure that the house-agents andattorneys came down to appraise and sell Brudenell Hall. Since theimprovements bestowed upon the estate by Lady Hurstmonceux, the propertyhad increased its value, so that a purchaser could not at once be found. When this fact was communicated to Mr. Brudenell, in London, he wroteand authorized his agent to let the property to a responsible tenant, and if possible to hire the plantation negroes to the same party whoshould take the house. 

All this after a while was successfully accomplished. A gentleman from aneighboring State took the house, all furnished as it was, and hired allthe servants of the premises. 

He came early in June, but who or what he was, or whence he came, noneof the neighbors knew. The arrival of any stranger in a remote countrydistrict is always the occasion of much curiosity, speculation, andgossip. But when such a one brings the purse of Fortunatus in hispocket, and takes possession of the finest establishment in thecountry--house, furniture, servants, carriages, horses, stock and all, he becomes the subject of the wildest conjecture. 

It does not require long to get comfortably to housekeeping in aready-made home; so it was soon understood in the neighborhood that thestrangers were settled in their new residence, and might be supposed tobe ready to receive calls. 

But the neighbors, though tormented with curiosity, cautiously heldaloof, and waited until the Sabbath, when they might expect to see thenewcomers, and judge of their appearance and hear their pastor's opinionof them. 

So, on the first Sunday after the stranger's settlement at BrudenellHall the Baymouth Church was crowded to excess. But those of thecongregation who went there with other motives than to worship theirCreator were sadly disappointed. The crimson-lined Brudenell pewremained vacant, as it had remained for several years. 

"Humph! not church-going people, perhaps! We had an English Jewessbefore, perhaps we shall have a Turkish Mohammedan next!" was thespeculation of one of the disappointed. 

The conjecture proved false. 

The next Sunday the Brudenell pew was filled. There was a gentleman andlady, and half-a-dozen girls and boys, all dressed in half-mourning, except one little lady of about ten years old, whose form was envelopedin black bombazine and crape, and whose face, what could be seen of it, was drowned in tears. It needed no seer to tell that she was just leftmotherless, and placed in charge of her relations. 

After undergoing the scrutiny of the congregation, this family wasunanimously, though silently, voted to be perfectly respectable. 

CHAPTER XXI. 

ISHMAEL'S ADVENTURE. 

 I almost fancy that the more He was cast out from men, Nature had made him of her store A worthier denizen; As if it pleased her to caress A plant grown up so wild, As if his being parentless Had made him more _her_ child. 

 --_Monckton Milnes_. 

At twelve years of age Ishmael was a tall, thin, delicate-looking lad, with regular features, pale complexion, fair hair, and blue eyes. Hisgreat, broad forehead and wasted cheeks gave his face almost atriangular shape. The truth is, that up to this age the boy had neverhad enough food to nourish the healthy growth of the body. And that helived at all was probably due to some great original vital force in hisorganization, and also to the purity of his native air, of which atleast he got a plenty. 

He had learned all the professor could teach him; had read all the booksthat Morris could lend him; and was now hungering and thirsting for moreknowledge. At this time a book had such a fascination for Ishmael thatwhen he happened to be at Baymouth he would stand gazing, spellbound, atthe volumes exposed for sale in the shop windows, just as other boysgaze at toys and sweetmeats. 

But little time had the poor lad for such peeps into Paradise, for hewas now earning about a dollar a week, as Assistant-Professor of OddJobs to Jem Morris, and his professional duties kept him very busy. 

Baymouth had progressed in all these years, and now actually boasted afine new shop, with this sign over the door:

BOOK, STATIONERY, AND FANCY BAZAAR. 

And this to Ishmael seemed a very fairy palace. It attracted him with anirresistible glamour. 

It happened one burning Saturday afternoon in August that the boy, having a half-holiday, resolved to make the most of it and enjoy himselfby walking to Baymouth and standing before that shop to gaze at hisleisure upon the marvels of literature displayed in its windows. 

The unshaded village street was hot and dusty, and the unclouded Augustsun was blazing down upon it; but Ishmael did not mind that, as he stooddevouring with his eyes the unattainable books. 

While he was thus occupied, a small, open, one-horse carriage drove upand stopped before the shop door. The gentleman who had driven italighted and handed out a lady and a little girl in deep mourning. Thelady and the little girl passed immediately into the shop. And oh! howIshmael envied them! They were perhaps going to buy some of thosebeautiful books!

The gentleman paused with the reins in his hands, and looked up and downthe bare street, as if in search of some person. At last, in withdrawinghis eyes, they fell upon Ishmael, and he called him. 

The boy hastened to his side. 

"My lad, do you think you can hold my horse?"

"Oh, yes, sir. "

"Well, and can you lead him out of the road to that stream there underthe trees, and let him drink and rest?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Very well, go on, then, and mind and watch the carriage well, while weare in the shop; because, you see, there are tempting parcels in it. "

"Yes, sir, " again said the boy. 

The gentleman gave him the reins and followed the ladies into the shop. And Ishmael led the horse off to the grove stream, a place muchfrequented by visitors at Baymouth to rest and water their horses. 

The thirsty horse had drank his fill, and the kind boy was engaged inrubbing him down with cool, fresh dock leaves, when a voice near thecarriage attracted Ishmael's attention. 

"Oh, cricky, Ben! if here isn't old Middy's pony-chaise standing allalone, and full of good nuggs he's been a buying for that tea-party!Come, let's have our share beforehand. "

Ishmael who was partly concealed by his stooping position behind thehorse, now raised his head, and saw two young gentlemen of about twelveand fourteen years of age, whom he recognized as the sons of CommodoreBurghe, by having seen them often at church in the commodore's pew. 

"Oh, I say, Ben, here's a hamper chock full of oranges and figs and nutsand raisins and things! let's get at them, " said the elder boy, who hadclimbed upon one wheel and was looking into the carriage. 

"Oh, no, Alf! don't meddle with them! Mr. Middleton would be mad, "replied the younger. 

"Who cares if he is? Who's afraid? Not I!" exclaimed Alf, tearing offthe top of the hamper and helping himself. 

All this passed in the instant that Ishmael was rising up. 

"You must not touch those things, young gentlemen! You must not, indeed!Put those figs back again, Master Alfred, " he said. 

"Who the blazes are you, pray?" inquired Master Alfred contemptously, ashe coolly proceeded to fill his pockets. 

"I am Ishmael Worth, and I am set here to watch this horse and carriage, and I mean to do it! Put those figs back again, Master Alfred. "

"Oh! you are Ishmael Worth, are you? The wearer woman's boy and JemMorris's 'prentice! Happy to know you, sir!" said the lad sarcastically, as he deliberately spread his handkerchief on the ground and began tofill it with English walnuts. 

"Return those things to the hamper, Master Alfred, while times aregood, " said Ishmael slowly and distinctly. 

"Oh, I say, Ben, isn't he a nice one to make acquaintance with? Let'sask him to dinner!" jeered the boy, helping himself to more walnuts. 

"You had better return those things before worse comes of it, " saidIshmael, slowly pulling off his little jacket and carefully folding itup and laying it on the ground. 

"I say, Ben! Jem Morris's apprentice is going to fight! Ar'n't youscared?" sneered Master Alfred, tying up his handkerchief full of nuts. 

"Will you return those things or not?" exclaimed Ishmael, unbuttoninghis little shirt collar and rolling up his sleeves. 

"Will you tell me who was your father?" mocked Master Alfred. 

That question was answered by a blow dashed full in the mouth of thequestioner, followed instantly by another blow into his right eye and athird into his left. Then Ishmael seized him by the collar and, twistingit, choked and shook him until he dropped his plunder. But it was onlythe suddenness of the assault that had given Ishmael a moment'sadvantage. The contest was too unequal. As soon as Master Alfred haddropped his plunder he seized his assailant. Ben also rushed to therescue. It was unfair, two boys upon one. They soon threw Ishmael downupon the ground and beat his breath nearly out of his body. They were soabsorbed in their cowardly work that they were unconscious of theapproach of the party from the shop, until the gentleman left the ladiesand hurried to the scene of action, exclaiming:

"What's this? What's this? What's all this, young gentlemen? Let thatpoor lad alone! Shame on you both!"

The two culprits ceased their blows and started up panic-stricken. Butonly for a moment. The ready and reckless falsehood sprang to Alfred'slips. 

"Why, sir, you see, we were walking along and saw your carriage standinghere and saw that boy stealing the fruit and nuts from it. And weordered him to stop and he wouldn't, and we pitched into him and beathim. Didn't we, Ben"

"Yes, we beat him, " said Ben evasively. 

"Humph! And he stole the very articles that he was put here to guard!Sad! sad! but the fault was mine! He is but a child! a poor child, andwas most likely hungry. I should not have left the fruit right under hiskeen young nose to tempt him! Boys, you did very wrong to beat him so!You, who are pampered so much, know little of the severe privations andgreat temptations of the poor. And we cannot expect children to resisttheir natural appetites, " said the gentleman gently, as he stooped toexamine the condition of the fallen boy. 

Ishmael was half stunned, exhausted, and bleeding; but his confusedsenses had gathered the meaning of the false accusation made againsthim. And, through the blood bursting from his mouth, he gurgled forththe words:

"I didn't, sir! The Lord above, he knows I didn't!"

"He did! he did! Didn't he, Ben?" cried Master Alfred. 

Ben was silent. 

"And we beat him! Didn't we, Ben?" questioned the young villain, whowell understood his weak younger brother. 

"Yes, " replied Ben, who was always willing to oblige his elder brotherif he could do so without telling an out and out falsehood; "we did beathim. "

The gentleman raised the battered boy to his feet, took a look at himand murmured to himself:

"Well! if this lad is a thief and a liar, there is no truth inphrenology or physiognomy either. "

Then, speaking aloud, he said:

"My boy! I am very sorry for what has just happened! You were placedhere to guard my property. You betrayed your trust! You, yourself, stoleit! And you have told a falsehood to conceal your theft. No! do notattempt to deny it! Here are two young gentlemen of position who arewitnesses against you!"

Ishmael attempted to gurgle some denial, but his voice was drowned inthe blood that still filled his mouth. 

"My poor boy, " continued the gentleman--"for I see you are poor, if youhad simply eaten the fruit and nuts, that would have been wrongcertainly, being a breach of trust; but it would have been almostexcusable, for you might have been hungry and been tempted by the smellof the fruit and by the opportunity of tasting it. And if you hadconfessed it frankly, I should as frankly have forgiven you. But I amsorry to say that you have attempted to conceal your fault by falsehood. And do you know what that falsehood has done? It has converted the act, that I should have construed as mere trespass, into a theft!"

Ishmael stooped down and bathed his bloody face in the stream and thenwiped it clean with his coarse pocket handkerchief. And then he raisedhis head with a childish dignity most wonderful to see, and said:

"Listen to me, sir, if you please. I did not take the fruit or the nuts, or anything that was yours. It is true, sir, as you said, that I ampoor. And I was hungry, very hungry indeed, because I have had nothingto eat since six o'clock this morning. And the oranges and figs didsmell nice, and I did want them very much. But I did not touch them, sir! I could better bear hunger than I could bear shame! And I shouldhave suffered shame if I had taken your things! Yes, even though youmight have never found out the loss of them. Because--I should haveknown myself to be a thief, and I could not have borne that, sir! I didnot take your property, sir, I hope you will believe me. "

"He did! he did! he did! didn't he now, Ben?" cried Alfred. 

Ben was silent. 

"And we beat him for it, didn't we, Ben?"

"Yes, " said Ben. 

"There now you see, my boy! I would be glad to believe you; but here aretwo witnesses against you! two young gentlemen of rank, who would notstoop to falsehood!" said the gentleman sadly. 

"Sir, " replied Ishmael calmly, "be pleased to listen to me, while I tellyou what really happened. When you left me in charge of this horse I ledhim to this stream and gave him water, and I was rubbing him down with ahandful of fresh dock-leaves when these two young gentlemen came up. Andthe elder one proposed to help himself to the contents of the hamper. But the younger one would not agree to the plan. And I, for my part, told him to let the things alone. But he wouldn't mind me. I insisted, but he laughed at me and helped himself to the oranges, figs, walnuts, and raisins. I told him to put them back directly; but he wouldn't. Andthen I struck him and collared him, sir; for I thought it was my duty tofight for the property that had been left in my care. But he was biggerthan I was, and his brother came to help him, and they were too many forme, and between them they threw me down. And then you came up. And thatis the whole truth, sir. "

"It isn't! it isn't! He stole the things, and now he wants to lay it onus! that is the worst of all! But we can prove that he did it, becausewe are two witnesses against one!" said Master Alfred excitedly. 

"Yes; that is the worst of all, my boy; it was bad to take the things, but you were tempted by hunger; it was worse to deny the act, but youwere tempted by fear; it is the worst of all to try to lay your faultupon the shoulders of others. I fear I shall be obliged to punish you, "said the gentleman. 

"Sir, punish me for the loss of the fruit if you please; but believe me;for I speak the truth, " said Ishmael firmly. 

At that moment he felt a little soft hand steal into his own, and hearda gentle voice whisper in his ear:

"I believe you, poor boy, if they don't. "

He turned, and saw at his side the little orphan girl in deep mourning. She was a stately little lady, with black eyes and black ringlets, andwith the air of a little princess. 

"Come, Claudia! Come away, my love, " said the lady, who had just arrivedat the spot. 

"No, aunt, if you please; I am going to stand by this poor boy here! Hehas got no friend! He is telling the truth, and nobody will believehim!" said the little girl, tossing her head, and shaking back her blackringlets haughtily. 

It was easy to see that this little lady had had her own royal will, ever since she was one day old, and cried for a light until it wasbrought. 

"Claudia, Claudia, you are very naughty to disobey your aunt, " said thegentleman gravely. 

The little lady lifted her jetty eyebrows in simple surprise. 

"'Naughty, ' uncle! How can you say such things to me? Mamma never did;and papa never does! Pray do not say such things again to me, uncle! Ihave not been used to hear them. "

The gentleman shrugged his shoulders, and turned to Ishmael, saying:

"I am more grieved than angry, my boy, to see you stand convicted oftheft and falsehood. "

"I was never guilty of either in my life, sir, " said Ishmael. 

"He was! he was! He stole the things, and then told stories about it, and tried to lay it on us! But we can prove it was himself! We are twowitnesses against one! two genteel witnesses against one low one! We aregentleman's sons; and who is he? He's a thief! He stole the things, didn't he, Ben?" questioned Master Alfred. 

Ben turned away. 

"And we thrashed him well for it, didn't we, Ben?"

"Yes, " said Ben. 

"So you see, sir, it is true! there are two witnesses against you; donot therefore make your case quite hopeless by a persistence infalsehood, " said the gentleman, speaking sternly for the first time. 

Ishmael dropped his head, and the Burghe boys laughed. 

Little Claudia's eyes blazed. 

"Shame on you, Alfred Burghe! and you too, Ben! I know that you havetold stories yourselves, for I see it in both your faces, just as I seethat this poor boy has told the truth by his face!" she exclaimed. Thenputting her arm around Ishmael's neck in the tender, motherly way thatsuch little women will use to boys in distress, she said:

"There! hold up your head, and look them in the face. It is true, theyare all against you; but, then, what of that, when I am on your side. Itis a great thing, let me tell you, to have me on your side. I am MissMerlin, my father's heiress; and he is the Chief Justice of the SupremeCourt. And I am not sure but that I might make my papa have these twobad boys hanged if I insisted upon it! And I stand by you because I knowyou are telling the truth, and because my mamma always told me it wouldbe my duty, as the first lady in the country, to protect the poor andthe persecuted! So hold up your head, and look them in the face, andanswer them!" said the young lady, throwing up her own head and shakingback her rich ringlets. 

CHAPTER XXII. 

ISHMAEL GAINS HIS FIRST VERDICT. 

 Honor and shame from no condition rise; Act well your part, there all the honor lies. Worth makes the man, and want of it the fellow, The rest is all but leather and prunella. 

 --_Pope_. 

So conjured, Ishmael lifted his face and confronted his accusers. It wastruth and intellect encountering falsehood and stupidity. Who coulddoubt the issue?

"Sir, " said the boy, "if you will look into the pockets of that younggentleman, Master Alfred, you will find the stolen fruit upon him. "

Alfred Burghe started and turned to run. But the gentleman was too quickto let him escape, and caught him by the arm. 

"What, sir! Mr. Middleton, would you search me at his bidding? Searchthe son of Commodore Burghe at the bidding of--nobody's son?" exclaimedthe youth, struggling to free himself, while the blood seemed ready toburst from his red and swollen face. 

"For your vindication, young sir! For your vindication, " replied Mr. Middleton, proceeding to turn out the young gentleman's pockets, whenlo! oranges, figs, and nuts rolled upon the ground. 

"It is infamous--so it is!" exclaimed Master Alfred, mad with shame andrage. 

"Yes, it is infamous, " sternly replied Mr. Middleton. 

"I mean it is infamous to treat a commodore's son in this way!"

"And I mean it is infamous in anybody's son to behave as you have, sir!"

"I bought the things at Nutt's shop! I bought them with my own money!They are mine! I never touched your things. That fellow did! He tookthem, and then told falsehoods about it. "

"Sir, " said Ishmael, "if you will examine that bundle, lying under thatbush, you will find something there to prove which of us two speaks thetruth. "

Master Alfred made a dash for the bundle; but again Mr. Middleton wastoo quick for him, and caught it up. It was a red bandanna silkhandkerchief stuffed full of parcels and tied at the corners. Thehandkerchief had the name of Alfred Burghe on one corner; the smallparcel of nuts and raisins it contained were at once recognized by Mr. Middleton as his own. 

"Oh, sir, sir!" began that gentleman severely, turning upon the detectedculprit; but the young villain was at bay!

"Well?" he growled in defiance; "what now? what's all the muss about?Those parcels were what I took off his person when he was running awaywith them. Didn't I, Ben?"

Ben grumbled some inaudible answer, which Alfred assumed to be assent, for he immediately added:

"And I tied them up in my handkerchief to give them back to you. Didn'tI, Ben?"

Ben mumbled something or other. 

"And then I beat him for stealing. Didn't I, Ben?"

"Yes, you beat him, " sulkily answered the younger brother. 

Mr. Middleton gazed at the two boys in amazement; not that heentertained the slightest doubt of the innocence of Ishmael and theguilt of Alfred, but that he was simply struck with consternation atthis instance of hardened juvenile depravity. 

"Sir, " continued the relentless young prosecutor, "if you will please toquestion Master Ben, I think he will tell you the truth. He has not tolda downright story yet. "

"What! why he has been corroborating his brother's testimony all along!"said Mr. Middleton. 

"Only as to the assault, sir; not as to the theft. Please question him, sir, to finish this business. "

"I will! Ben, who stole the fruit and nuts from my carriage?"

Ben dug his hands into his pockets and turned sullenly away. 

"Did this poor boy steal them? For if I find he did, I will send him toprison. And I know you wouldn't like to see an innocent boy sent toprison. So tell me the truth. Did he, or did he not, steal the articlesin question?"

"He did not; not so much as one of them, " replied the younger Burghe. 

"Did Alfred take them?"

Ben was sullenly silent. 

"Did Alfred take them?" repeated Mr. Middleton. 

"I won't tell you! So there now! I told you that fellow didn't! but Iwon't tell you who did! It is real hard of you to want me to tell on myown brother!" exclaimed Master Ben, walking off indignantly. 

"That is enough; indeed the finding of the articles upon Alfred's personwas enough, " said Mr. Middleton. 

"I think this poor boy's word ought to have been enough!" said Claudia. 

"And now, sir!" continued Mr. Middleton, turning to Master Burghe; "youhave been convicted of theft, falsehood, and cowardice--yes, and of themeanest falsehood and the basest cowardice I ever heard of. Under thesecircumstances, I cannot permit your future attendance upon my school. You are no longer a proper companion for my pupils. To-morrow I shallcall upon your father, to tell him what has happened and advise him tosend you to sea, under some strict captain, for a three or five years'cruise!"

"If you blow me to the governor, I'll be shot to death if I don't knifeyou, old fellow!" roared the young reprobate. 

"Begone, sir!" was the answer of Mr. Middleton. 

"Oh, I can go! But you look out! You're all a set of radicals, anyhow!making equals of all the rag, tag, and bobtail about. Look at Claudiathere! What would Judge Merlin say if he was to see his daughter withher arm around that boy's neck!"

Claudia's eyes kindled dangerously, and she made one step towards theoffender, saying:

"Hark you, Master Alfred Burghe. Don't you dare to take my name betweenyour lips again! and don't you dare to come near me as long as you live, or even to say to anybody that you were ever acquainted with me! If youdo I will make my papa have you hanged! For I do not choose to know athief, liar, and coward!"

"Claudia! Claudia! Claudia! You shock me beyond all measure, my dear!"exclaimed the lady in a tone of real pain; and then lowering her voiceshe whispered--"'Thief, liar, coward!' what shocking words to issue froma young lady's lips. "

"I know they are not nice words, Aunt Middleton, and if you will onlyteach me nicer ones I will use them instead. But are there any prettywords for ugly tricks?"

As this question was a "poser" that Mrs. Middleton did not attempt toanswer, the little lady continued very demurely:

"I will look in 'Webster' when I get home and see if there are. "

"My boy, " said Mr. Middleton, approaching our lad, "I have accused youwrongfully. I am sorry for it and beg your pardon. "

Ishmael looked up in surprise and with an "Oh, sir, please don't, "blushed and hung his head. It seemed really dreadful to this poor boythat this grave and dignified gentleman should ask his pardon! And yetMr. Middleton lost no dignity in this simple act, because it was right;he had wronged the poor lad, and owed an apology just as much as if hehad wronged the greatest man in the country. 

"And now, my boy, " continued the gentleman, "be always as honest, astruthful, and as fearless as you have shown yourself to-day, and thoughyour lot in life may be very humble--aye, of the very humblest--yet youwill be respected in your lowly sphere. " Here the speaker opened hisportmonnaie and took from it a silver dollar, saying, "Take this, myboy, not as a reward for your integrity, --that, understand, is a matterof more worth than to be rewarded with money, --but simply as payment foryour time and trouble in defending my property. "

"Oh, sir, please don't. I really don't want the money, " said Ishmael, shrinking from the offered coin. 

"Oh, nonsense, my boy! You must be paid, you know, " said Mr. Middleton, urging the dollar upon him. 

"But I do not want pay for a mere act of civility, " persisted Ishmael, drawing back. 

"But your time and trouble, child; they are money to lads in your lineof life. "

"If you please, sir, it was a holiday, and I had nothing else to do. "

"But take this to oblige me. "

"Indeed, sir, I don't want it. The professor is very freehearted andpays me well for my work. "

"The professor? What professor, my boy? I thought I had the honor to bethe only professor in the neighborhood, " said the gentleman, smiling. 

"I mean Professor Jim Morris, sir, " replied Ishmael, in perfect goodfaith. 

"Oh! yes, exactly; I have heard of that ingenious and useful individual, who seems to have served his time at all trades, and taken degrees inall arts and sciences; but I did not know he was called a professor. Soyou are a student in his college!" smiled Mr. Middleton. 

"I help him, sir, and he pays me, " answered the boy. 

"And what is your name, my good little fellow?"

"Ishmael Worth, sir. "

"Oh, yes, exactly; you are the son of the little weaver up on Hut Hill, just across the valley from Brudenell Heights?"

"I am her nephew, sir. "

"Are your parents living?"

"No, sir; I have been an orphan from my birth. "

"Poor boy! And you are depending on your aunt for a home, and on yourown labor for a support?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Well, Ishmael, as you very rightly take pay from my brother professor, I do not know why you should refuse it from me. "

Ishmael perhaps could not answer that question to his own satisfaction. At all events, he hesitated a moment before he replied:

"Why, you see, sir, what I do for the other professor is all in the lineof my business; but the small service I have done for you is only alittle bit of civility that I am always so glad to show to anygentleman--I mean to anybody at all, sir; even a poor wagoner, I oftenhold horses for them, sir! And, bless you, they couldn't pay me apenny. "

"But I can, my boy! and besides you not only held my horse, and wateredhim, and rubbed him down, and watched my carriage, but you fought astout battle in defense of my goods, and got yourself badly bruised bythe thieves, and unjustly accused by me. Certainly, it is a pooroffering I make in return for your services and sufferings in myinterests. Here, my lad, I have thought better of it; here is a halfeagle. Take it and buy something for yourself. "

"Indeed, indeed, sir, I cannot. Please don't keep on asking me, "persisted Ishmael, drawing back with a look of distress and almost ofreproach on his fine face. 

Now, why could not the little fellow take the money that was pressedupon him? He wanted it badly enough, Heaven knows! His best clothes wereall patches, and this five dollar gold piece would have bought him a newsuit. And besides there was an "Illustrated History of the UnitedStates" in that book-shop, that really and truly Ishmael would have beenwilling to give a finger off either of his hands to possess; and itsprice was just three dollars. Now, why didn't the little wretch take themoney and buy the beautiful book with which his whole soul was enamored?The poor child did not know himself. But you and I know, reader, don'twe? We know that he could not take the money, with the arm of thatblack-eyed little lady around his neck!

Yes, the arm of Claudia was still most tenderly and protectinglyencircling his neck, and every few minutes she would draw down his roughhead caressingly to her own damask cheek. 

Shocking, wasn't it? And you wonder how her aunt and uncle could havestood by and permitted it. Because they couldn't help it. Miss Claudiawas a little lady, angel born, who had never been contradicted in herlife. Her father was a crochety old fellow, with a "theory, " one resultof which was that he let his trees and his daughter grow up unpruned asthey liked. 

But do not mistake Miss Claudia, or think her any better or any worsethan she really was. Her caresses of the peasant boy looked as if shewas republican in her principles and "fast" in her manners. She wasneither the one nor the other. So far from being republican, she wasjust the most ingrained little aristocrat that ever lived! She was anaristocrat from the crown of her little, black, ringletted head to thesole of her tiny, gaitered foot; from her heart's core to herscarf-skin; so perfect an aristocrat that she was quite unconscious ofbeing so. For instance, she looked upon herself as very little lowerthan the angels; and upon the working classes as very little higher thanthe brutes; if in her heart she acknowledged that all in the human shapewere human, that was about the utmost extent of her liberalism. She andthey were both clay, to be sure, but she was of the finest porcelainclay and they of the coarsest potter's earth. This theory had not beentaught her, it was born in her, and so entirely natural and sincere thatshe was almost unconscious of its existence; certainly unsuspicious ofits fallacy. 

Thus, you see, she caressed Ishmael just exactly as she would havecaressed her own Newfoundland dog; she defended his truth and honestyfrom false accusation just as she would have defended Fido's from asimilar charge; she praised his fidelity and courage just as she wouldhave praised Fido's; for, in very truth, she rated the peasant boy notone whit higher than the dog! Had she been a degree less proud, had shelooked upon Ishmael as a human being with like passions and emotions asher own, she might have been more reserved in her manner. But being asproud as she was, she caressed and protected the noble peasant boy as akind-hearted little lady would have caressed and protected a noblespecimen of the canine race! Therefore, what might have been consideredvery forward and lowering in another little lady, was perfectly gracefuland dignified in Miss Merlin. 

But, meanwhile, the poor, earnest, enthusiastic boy! He didn't know thatshe rated him as low as any four-footed pet! He thought she appreciatedhim, very highly, too highly, as a human being! And his great littleheart burned and glowed with joy and gratitude! And he would no morehave taken pay for doing her uncle a service than he would have picked apocket or robbed a henroost! He just adored her lovely clemency, and hewas even turning over in his mind the problem how he, a poor, poor boy, hardly able to afford himself a halfpenny candle to read by, after dark, could repay her kindness--what could he find, invent, or achieve toplease her!

Of all this Miss Claudia only understood his gratitude; and it pleasedher as the gratitude of Fido might have done. 

And she left his side for a moment, and raised herself on tiptoe andwhispered to her uncle:

"Uncle, he is a noble fellow--isn't he, now? But he loves me better thanhe does you. So let me give him something. "

Mr. Middleton placed the five dollar piece in her hand. 

"No, no, no--not that! Don't you see it hurts his feelings to offer himthat?"

"Well--but what then?"

"I'll tell you: When we drove up to Hamlin's I saw him standing beforethe shop, with his hands in his pockets, staring at the books in thewindows, just as I have seen hungry children stare at the tarts andcakes in a pastry cook's. And I know he is hungry for a book! Now uncle, let me give him a book. "

"Yes; but had not I better give it to him, Claudia?"

"Oh, if you like, and he'll take it from you! But, you know, there'sFido now, who sometimes gets contrary, and won't take anything from yourhand, but no matter how contrary he is, will always take anything frommine. But you may try, uncle--you may try!"

This conversation was carried on in a whisper. When it was ended Mr. Middleton turned to Ishmael and said:

"Very well, my boy; I can but respect your scruples. Follow us back toHamlin's. "

And so saying, he helped his wife and his niece into the pony chaise, got in himself, and took the reins to drive on. 

Miss Claudia looked back and watched Ishmael as he limped slowly andpainfully after them. The distance was very short, and they soon reachedthe shop. 

"Which is the window he was looking in, Claudia?" inquired Mr. Middleton. 

"This one on the left hand, uncle. "

"Ah! Come here, my boy; look into this window now, and tell me which ofthese books you would advise me to buy for a present to a young friendof mine?"

The poor fellow looked up with so much perplexity in his face at theidea of this grave, middle-aged gentleman asking advice of him, that Mr. Middleton hastened to say:

"The reason I ask you, Ishmael, is because, you being a boy would be abetter judge of another boy's tastes than an old man like me could be. So now judge by yourself, and tell me which book you think would pleasemy young friend best. Look at them all, and take time. "

"Oh, yes, sir. But I don't want time! Anybody could tell in a minutewhich book a boy would like!"

"Which, then?"

"Oh, this, this, this! 'History of the United States, ' all full ofpictures!"

"But here is 'Robinson Crusoe, ' and here is the 'Arabian Nights'; whynot choose one of them?"

"Oh, no, sir--don't! They are about people that never lived, and thingsthat aren't true; and though they are very interesting, I know, there isno solid satisfaction in them like there is in this--"

"Well, now 'this. ' What is the great attraction of this to a boy? Why, it's nothing but dry history, " said Mr. Middleton, with an amused smile, while he tried to "pump" the poor lad. 

"Oh, sir, but there's so much in it! There's Captain John Smith, and SirWalter Raleigh, and Jamestown, and Plymouth, and the Pilgrim Fathers, and John Hancock, and Patrick Henry, and George Washington, and theDeclaration of Independence, and Bunker's Hill, and Yorktown! Oh!" criedIshmael with an ardent burst of enthusiasm. 

"You seem to know already a deal more of the history of our country thansome of my first-class young gentlemen have taken the trouble to learn, "said Mr. Middleton, in surprise. 

"Oh, no, I don't, sir. I know no more than what I have read in a littlethin book, no bigger than your hand, sir, that was lent to me by theprofessor; but I know by that how much good there must be in this, sir. "

"Ah! a taste of the dish has made you long for a feast. "

"Sir?"

"Nothing, my boy, but that I shall follow your advice in the selectionof a book, " said the gentleman, as he entered the shop. The lady and thelittle girl remained in the carriage, and Ishmael stood feasting hishungry eyes upon the books in the window. 

Presently the volume he admired so much disappeared. 

"There! I shall never see it any more!" said Ishmael, with a sigh; "butI'm glad some boy is going to get it! Oh, won't he be happy to-night, though! Wish it was I! No, I don't neither; it's a sin to covet!"

And a few minutes after the gentleman emerged from the shop with anoblong packet in his hand. 

"It was the last copy he had left, my boy, and I have secured it! Now doyou really think my young friend will like it?" asked Mr. Middleton. 

"Oh, sir, won't he though, neither!" exclaimed Ishmael, in sincerehearty sympathy with the prospective happiness of another. 

"Well, then, my little friend must take it, " said Mr. Middleton, offering the packet to Ishmael. 

"Sir!" exclaimed the latter. 

"It is for you, my boy. "

"Oh, sir, I couldn't take it, indeed! It is only another way of payingme for a common civility, " said Ishmael, shrinking from the gift, yetlonging for the book. 

"It is not; it is a testimonial of my regard for you, my boy! Receive itas such. "

"I do not deserve such a testimonial, and cannot receive it, sir, "persisted Ishmael. 

"There, uncle, I told you so!" exclaimed Claudia, springing from thecarriage and taking the book from the hand of Mr. Middleton. 

She went to the side of Ishmael, put her arm around his neck, drew hishead down against hers, leaned her bright cheek against his, and said:

"Come, now, take the book; I know you want it; take it like a good boy;take it for my sake, "

Still Ishmael hesitated a little. 

Then she raised the parcel and pressed it to her lips and handed it tohim again, saying:

"There, now, you see I've kissed it. Fido would take anything I kissed;won't you?"

Ishmael now held out his hands eagerly for the prize, took it andpressed it to his jacket, exclaiming awkwardly but earnestly:

"Thank you, miss! Oh, thank you a thousand, thousand times, miss! Youdon't know how much I wanted this book, and how glad I am!"

"Oh, yes, I do. I'm a witch, and know people's secret thoughts. But whydidn't you take the book when uncle offered it?"

"If you are a witch, miss, you can tell. "

"So I can; it was because you don't love uncle as well as you love me!Well, Fido doesn't either. But uncle is a nice man for all that. "

"I wonder who 'Fido' is, " thought the poor boy. "I do wonder who he is;her brother, I suppose. "

"Come, Claudia, my love, get into the carriage; we must go home, " saidMr. Middleton, as he assisted his niece to her seat. 

"I thank you very much, sir, for this very beautiful book, " saidIshmael, going up to Mr. Middleton and taking off his hat. 

"You are very welcome, my boy; so run home now and enjoy it, " repliedthe gentleman, as he sprang into the carriage and took the reins. 

"'Run home?' how can he run home, uncle? If he lives at the weaver's, itis four miles off! How can he run it, or even walk it? Don't you see howbadly hurt he is? Why, he could scarcely limp from the pond to the shop!I think it would be only kind, uncle, to take him up beside you. We passclose to the hut, you know, in going home, and we could set him down. "

"Come along, then, my little fellow! The young princess says you are toride home with us, and her highness' wishes are not to be disobeyed!"laughed Mr. Middleton, holding out his hand to help the boy into thecarriage. 

Ishmael made no objection to this proposal: but eagerly clambered up tothe offered seat beside the gentleman. 

The reins were moved, and they set off at a spanking pace, and were soonbowling along the turnpike road that made a circuit through the foresttoward Brudenell Heights. 

The sun had set, a fresh breeze had sprung up, and, as they were drivingrapidly in the eye of the wind, there was scarcely opportunity forconversation. In little more than an hour they reached a point in theroad within a few hundred yards of the weaver's hut. 

"Here we are, my boy! Now, do you think you can get home without help?"inquired Mr. Middleton, as he stopped the carriage. 

"Oh, yes, sir, thank you!" replied Ishmael, as he clambered down to theground. He took off his hat beside the carriage, and making his bestSabbath-school bow, said:

"Good-evening, sir; good-evening, madam and miss, and thank you verymuch. "

"Good-evening, my little man; there get along home with you out of thenight air, " said Mr. Middleton. 

Mrs. Middleton and the little lady nodded and smiled their adieus. 

And Ishmael struck into the narrow and half hidden footpath that ledfrom the highway to the hut. 

The carriage started on its way. 

"A rather remarkable boy, that, " said Mr. Middleton, as they drove alongthe forest road encircling the crest of the hills towards BrudenellHeights, that moonlit, dewy evening; "a rather remarkable boy! He has anuncommonly fine head! I should really like to examine it! The intellectand moral organs seem wonderfully developed! I really should like toexamine it carefully at my leisure. "

"He has a fine face, if it were not so pale and thin, " said Mrs. Middleton. 

"Poor, poor fellow, " said Claudia, in a tone of deep pity, "he is thinand pale, isn't he? And Fido is so fat and sleek! I'm afraid he doesn'tget enough to eat, uncle!"

"Who, Fido?"

"No, the other one, the boy! I say I'm afraid he don't get enough toeat. Do you think he does?"

"I--I'm afraid not, my dear!"

"Then I think it is a shame, uncle! Rich people ought not to let thepoor, who depend upon them, starve! Papa says that I am to come into mymamma's fortune as soon as I am eighteen. When I do, nobody in thisworld shall want. Everybody shall have as much as ever they can eatthree times a day. Won't that be nice?"

"Magnificent, my little princess, if you can only carry out your ideas, "replied her uncle. 

"Oh! but I will! I will, if it takes every dollar of my income! My mammatold me that when I grew up I must be the mother of the poor! Anddoesn't a mother feed her children?"

Middleton laughed. 

"And as for that poor boy on the hill, he shall have tarts and cheesecakes, and plum pudding, and roast turkey, and new books every day;because I like him; I like him so much; I like him better than I doanything in the world except Fido!"

"Well, my dear, " said Mr. Middleton, seizing this opportunity ofadministering an admonition, "like him as well as Fido, if you please;but do not pet him quite as freely as you pet Fido. "

"But I will, if I choose to! Why shouldn't I?" inquired the young lady, erecting her haughty little head. 

"Because he is not a dog!" dryly answered her uncle. 

"Oh! but he likes petting just as much as Fido! He does indeed, uncle; Iassure you! Oh, I noticed that. "

"Nevertheless, Miss Claudia, I must object in future to your making apet of the poor boy, whether you or he like it or not. "

"But I will, if I choose!" persisted the little princess, throwing backher head and shaking all her ringlets. 

Mr. Middleton sighed, shook his head, and turned to his wife, whispering, in a low tone:

"What are we to do with this self-willed elf? To carry out her father'sideas, and let her nature have unrestrained freedom to develop itself, will be the ruin of her! Unless she is controlled and guided she is justthe girl to grow up wild and eccentric, and end in running away with herown footman. "

These words were not intended for Miss Claudia's ears; butnotwithstanding, or rather because of, that, she heard every syllable, and immediately fired up, exclaiming:

"Who are you talking of marrying a footman? Me! me! me! Do you thinkthat I would ever marry anyone beneath me?' No, indeed! I will live tobe an old maid, before I will marry anybody but a lord! that I amdetermined upon!"

"You will never reach that consummation of your hopes, my dear, bypetting a peasant boy, even though you do look upon him as little betterthan a dog, " said Mr. Middleton, as he drew up before the gates ofBrudenell. 

A servant was in attendance to open them. And as the party were now athome, the conversation ceased for the present. 

Claudia ran in to exhibit her purchases. 

Her favorite, Fido, ran to meet her, barking with delight. 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

ISHMAEL'S PROGRESS. 

 Athwart his face when blushes pass To be so poor and weak, He falls into the dewy grass, To cool his fevered cheek; And hears a music strangely made, That you have never heard, A sprite in every rustling blade, That sings like any bird!

 --_Monckton Milnes_. 

Meanwhile on that fresh, dewy, moonlight summer evening, along thenarrow path leading through the wood behind the hut, Ishmael limped--thehappiest little fellow, despite his wounds and bruises, that ever lived. He was so happy that he half suspected his delight to be all unreal, andfeared to wake up presently and find it was but a dream, and see thelittle black-eyed girl, the ride in the carriage, and, above all, thenew "Illustrated History of the United States" vanish into the land ofshades. 

In this dazed frame of mind he reached the hut and opened the door. 

The room was lighted only by the blazing logs of a wood fire, which thefreshness of the late August evening on the hills made not quiteunwelcome. 

The room was in no respect changed in the last twelve years. Thewell-cared-for though humble furniture was still in its old position. 

Hannah, as of old, was seated at her loom, driving the shuttle back andforth with a deafening clatter. Hannah's face was a little more sallowand wrinkled, and her hair a little more freely streaked with gray thanof yore: that was all the change visible in her personal appearance. Butlong continued solitude had rendered her as taciturn and unobservant asif she had been born deaf and blind. 

She had not seen Reuben Gray since that Sunday when Ishmael waschristened and Reuben insisted on bringing the child home, and when, inthe bitterness of her woe and her shame, she had slammed the door in hisface. Gray had left the neighborhood, and it was reported that he hadbeen promoted to the management of a rich farm in the forest of PrinceGeorge's. 

"There is your supper on the hearth, child, " she said, without ceasingher work or turning her head as Ishmael entered. 

Hannah was a good aunt; but she was not his mother; if she had been, shewould at least have turned around to look at the boy, and then she wouldhave seen he was hurt, and would have asked an explanation. As it wasshe saw nothing. 

And Ishmael was very glad of it. He did not wish to be pitied orpraised; he wished to be left to himself and his own devices, for thisevening at least, when he had such a distinguished guest as his grandnew book to entertain!

Ishmael took up his bowl of mush and milk, sat down, and with a largespoon shoveled his food down his throat with more dispatch thandelicacy--just as he would have shoveled coal into a cellar. The sharpcries of a hungry stomach must be appeased, he knew; but with as littleloss of time as possible, particularly when there was a hungry brainwaiting to set to work upon a rich feast already prepared for it!

So in three minutes he put away his bowl and spoon, drew histhree-legged stool to the corner of the fireplace, where he could see toread, seated himself, opened his packet, and displayed his treasure. Itwas a large, thick, octavo volume, bound in stout leather, and filledwith portraits and pictured battle scenes. And on the fly-leaf waswritten:

 "Presented to Ishmael Worth, as a reward of merit, by his friend James Middleton. "

Ishmael read that with a new accession of pleasure. Then he turned theleaves to peep at the hidden jewels in this intellectual casket. Then heclosed the book and laid it on his knees and shut his eyes and held hisbreath for joy. 

He had been enamored of this beauty for months and months. He had fallenin love with it at first sight, when he had seen its pages open, with aportrait of George Washington on the right and a picture of the Battleof Yorktown on the left, all displayed in the show window of Hainlin'sbook shop. He had loved it and longed for it with a passionate ardorever since. He had spent all his half holidays in going to Baymouth andstanding before Hamlin's window and staring at the book, and asking theprice of it, and wondering if he should ever be able to save moneyenough to buy it. Now, to be in love with an unattainable woman is badenough, the dear knows! But to be in love with an unattainable book--Oh, my gracious! Lover-like, he had thought of this book all day, anddreamt of it all night; but never hoped to possess it!

And now he really owned it! He had won it as a reward for courage, truth, and honesty! It was lying there on his knees. It was all his own!His intense satisfaction can only be compared to that of a youthfulbridegroom who has got his beloved all to himself at last! It might havebeen said of the one, as it is often said of the other, "It was thehappiest day of his life!"

Oh, doubtless in after years the future statesman enjoyed many ahard-won victory. Sweet is the breath of fame! Sweet the praise ofnations! But I question whether, in all the vicissitudes, successes, failures, trials, and triumphs of his future life, Ishmael Worth evertasted such keen joy as he did this night in the possession of thisbook. 

He enjoyed it more than wealthy men enjoy their great libraries. To him, this was the book of books, because it was the history of his owncountry. 

There were thousands and thousands of young men, sons of gentlemen, inschools and colleges, reading this glorious history of the youngrepublic as a task, with indifference or disgust, while this poor boy, in the hill-top hut, pored over its pages with all the enthusiasm ofreverence and love! And why--what caused this difference? Because theywere of the commonplace, while he was one in a million. This was thehistory of the rise and progress of the United States; Ishmael Worth wasan ardent lover and worshiper of his country, as well as of all that wasgreat and good! He had the brain to comprehend and the heart toreverence the divine idea embodied in the Federal Union. He possessedthese, not by inheritance, not by education, but by the directinspiration of Heaven, who, passing over the wealthy and the prosperous, ordained this poor outcast boy, this despised, illegitimate son of acountry weaver, to become a great power among the people! a great pillarof the State. 

No one could guess this now. Not even the boy himself. He did not knowthat he was any richer in heart or brain than other boys of his age. No, most probably, by analogy, he thought himself in this respect as well asin all others, poorer than his neighbors. He covered his book carefully, and studied it perseveringly; studied it not only while it was anovelty, but after he had grown familiar with its incidents. 

I have dwelt so long upon this subject because the possession of thisbook at this time had a signal effect in forming Ishmael Worth'scharacter and directing the current of the boy's whole future life. Itwas one of the first media of his inspiration. Its heroes, its warriors, and its statesmen were his idols, his models, and his exemplars. Bystudying them he became himself high-toned, chivalrous, and devoted. Through the whole autumn he worked hard all day, upheld with theprospect of returning home at night to--his poor hut and his silentaunt?--oh, no, but to the grand stage upon which the Revolutionarystruggle was exhibited and to the company of its heroes--Washington, Putnam, Marion, Jefferson, Hancock, and Henry! He saw no more for sometime of his friends at Brudenell Hall. He knew that Mr. Middleton had afirst-class school at his house, and he envied the privileged younggentlemen who had the happiness to attend it: little knowing howunenviable a privilege the said young gentlemen considered thatattendance and how a small portion of happiness they derived from it. 

The winter set in early and severely. Hannah took a violent cold and wasconfined to her bed with inflammatory rheumatism. For many weeks she wasunable to do a stroke of work. During this time of trial Ishmael workedfor both--rising very early in the morning to get the frugal breakfastand set the house in order before going out to his daily occupation of"jobbing" with the professor--and coming home late at night to get thesupper and to split the wood and to bring the water for the next day'ssupply. Thus, as long as his work lasted, he was the provider as well asthe nurse of his poor aunt. 

But at last there came one of the heaviest falls of snow ever known inthat region. It lay upon the ground for many weeks, quite blocking upthe roads, interrupting travel, and of course putting a stop to theprofessor's jobbing and to Ishmael's income. Provisions were soonexhausted, and there was no way of getting more. Hannah and Ishmaelsuffered hunger. Ishmael bore this with great fortitude. Hannah alsobore it patiently as long as the tea lasted. But when that woman'sconsolation failed she broke down and complained bitterly. 

The Baymouth turnpike was about the only passable road in theneighborhood. By it Ishmael walked on to the village, one bitter coldmorning, to try to get credit for a quarter of a pound of tea. 

But Nutt would see him hanged first. 

Disappointed and sorrowful, Ishmael turned his steps from the town. Hehad come about a mile on his homeward road, when something glowing likea coal of fire on the glistening whiteness of the snow caught his eye. 

It was a red morocco pocketbook lying in the middle of the road. Therewas not a human creature except Ishmael himself on the road or anywherein sight. Neither had he passed anyone on his way from the village. Therefore it was quite in vain that he looked up and down and all aroundfor the owner of the pocketbook as he raised it from the ground. Nopossible claimant was to be seen. He opened it and examined itscontents. It contained a little gold and silver, not quite ten dollarsin all; but a fortune for Ishmael, in his present needy condition. Therewas no name on the pocketbook and not a scrap of paper in it by whichthe owner might be discovered. There was nothing in it but theuntraceable silver and gold. It seemed to have dropped from heaven forIshmael's own benefit! This was his thought as he turned with theimpulse to fly directly back to the village and invest a portion of themoney in necessaries for Hannah. 

What was it that suddenly arrested his steps? The recollection that themoney was not his own! that to use it even for the best purpose in theworld would be an act of dishonesty. 

He paused and reflected. The devil took that opportunity to tempthim--whispering:

"You found the pocketbook and you cannot find the owner; therefore it isyour own, you know. "

"You know it isn't, " murmured Ishmael's conscience. 

"Well, even so, it is no harm to borrow a dollar or two to get your poorsick aunt a little tea and sugar. You could pay it back again before thepocketbook is claimed, even if it is ever claimed, " mildly insinuatedthe devil. 

"It would be borrowing without leave, " replied conscience. 

"But for your poor, sick, suffering aunt! think of her, and make herhappy this evening with a consoling cup of tea! Take only half a dollarfor that good purpose. Nobody could blame you for that, " whimpered thedevil, who was losing ground. 

"I would like to make dear Aunt Hannah happy to-night. But I am sureGeorge Washington would not approve of my taking what don't belong to mefor that or any other purpose. And neither would Patrick Henry, norJohn Hancock. And so I won't do it, " said Ishmael, resolutely puttingthe pocketbook in his vest pocket and buttoning his coat tight over it, and starting at brisk pace homeward. 

You see his heroes had come to his aid and saved him in the firsttemptation of his life. 

Ah, you may be sure that in after days the rising politician met andresisted many a temptation to sell his vote, his party, or his soul fora "consideration"; but none more serious to the man than this one was tothe boy. 

When Ishmael had trudged another mile of his homeward road, it suddenlyoccurred to him that he might possibly meet or overtake the owner of thepocketbook, who would know his property in a moment if he should see it. And with this thought he took it from his pocket and carried itconspicuously in his hand until he reached home, without having met ahuman being. 

It was about twelve meridian when he lifted the latch and entered. Hannah was in bed; but she turned her hungry eyes anxiously on him--asshe eagerly inquired:

"Did you bring the tea, Ishmael?"

"No, Aunt Hannah; Mr. Nutt wouldn't trust me, " replied the boy sadly, sinking down in a chair; for he was very weak from insufficient food, and the long walk had exhausted him. 

Hannah began to complain piteously. Do not blame her, reader. You wouldfret, too, if you were sick in bed, and longing for a cup of tea, without having the means of procuring it. 

To divert her thoughts Ishmael went and showed the pocketbook, and toldher the history of his finding it. 

Hannah seized it with the greedy grasp with which the starving catch atmoney. She opened it, and counted the gold and silver. 

"Where did you say you found it, Ishmael?"

"I told you a mile out of the village. "

"Only that little way! Why didn't you go back and buy my tea?" sheinquired, with an injured look. 

"Oh, aunt! the money wasn't mine, you know!" said Iahmael. 

"Well, I don't say it was. But you might have borrowed a dollar from it, and the owner would have never minded, for I dare say he'd be willing togive two dollars as a reward for finding the pocketbook. You might havebought my tea if you had eared for me! But nobody cares for me now! Noone ever did but Reuben--poor fellow!"

"Indeed, Aunt Hannah, I do care for you a great deal! I love you dearly;and I did want to take some of the money and buy your tea. "

"Why didn't you do it, then?"

"Oh, Aunt Hannah, the Lord has commanded, 'Thou shalt not steal. '"

"It wouldn't have been stealing; it would have been borrowing. "

"But I know Patrick Henry and John Hancock wouldn't have borrowed whatdidn't belong to them!"

"Plague take Patrick Hancock and John Henry, I say! I believe they areturning your head! What have them dead and buried old people to do withfolks that are alive and starving?"

"Oh, Aunt Hannah! scold me as much as you please, but don't speak so ofthe great men!" said Ishmael, to whom all this was sheer blasphemy andnothing less. 

"Great fiddlesticks' ends! No tea yesterday, and no tea for breakfastthis morning, and no tea for supper to-night! And I laying helpless withthe rheumatism, and feeling as faint as if I should sink and die; and myhead aching ready to burst! And I would give anything in the world for acup of tea, because I know it would do me so much good, and I can't getit! And you have money in your pocket and won't buy it for me! No, notif I die for the want of it! You, that I have been a mother to! That'sthe way you pay me, is it, for all my care?"

"Oh, Aunt Hannah, dear, I do love you, and I would do anything in theworld for you; but, indeed, I am sure Patrick Henry--"

"Hang Patrick Henry! If you mention his name to me again I'll box yourears!"

Ishmael dropped his eyes to the ground and sighed deeply. 

"After all I have done for you, ever since you were left a helplessinfant on my hands, for you to let me lie here and die, yes, actuallydie, for the want of a cup of tea, before you will spend one quarter ofa dollar to get it for me! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oo-oo-oo!"

And Hannah put her hands to her face, and cried like a baby. 

You see Hannah was honest; but she was not heroic; her nerves were veryweak, and her spirits very low. Inflammatory rheumatism is often more orless complicated with heart disease. And the latter is a greatdemoralizer of mind as well as body. And that was Hannah's case. We mustmake every excuse for the weakness of the poor, over-tasked, allenduring, long-suffering woman, broken down at last. 

But not a thought of blaming her entered Ishmael's mind. Full of love, he bent over her, saying:

"Oh, Aunt Hannah, don't, don't cry! You shall have your tea this veryevening; indeed you shall!" And he stooped and kissed her tenderly. 

Then he put on his cap and went and took his only treasure, his beloved"History, " from its place of honor on the top of the bureau; and cold, hungry, and tired as he was, he set off again to walk the four longmiles to the village, to try to sell his book for half price to thetrader. 

Reader! I am not fooling you with a fictitious character here. Do younot love this boy? And will you not forgive me if I have alreadylingered too long over the trials and triumphs of his friendless butheroic boyhood! He who in his feeble childhood resists smalltemptations, and makes small sacrifices, is very apt in his strongmanhood to conquer great difficulties and achieve great successes. 

Ishmael, with his book under his arm, went as fast as his exhaustedframe would permit him on the road towards Baymouth. But as he wasobliged to walk slowly and pause to rest frequently, he made but littleprogress, so that it was three o'clock in the afternoon before hereached Hamlin's book shop. 

There was a customer present, and Ishmael had to wait until the man wasserved and had departed, before he could mention his own humble errand. This short interview Ishmael spent in taking the brown paper cover offhis book, and looking fondly at the cherished volume. It was like takinga last leave of it. Do not blame this as a weakness. He was so poor, sovery poor; this book was his only treasure and his only joy in life. Thetears arose to his eyes, but he kept them from falling. 

When the customer was gone, and the bookseller was at leisure, Ishmaelapproached and laid the volume on the counter, saying:

"Have you another copy of this work in the shop, Mr. Hamlin?"

"No; I wish I had half-a-dozen; for I could sell them all; but I intendto order some from Baltimore to-day. "

"Then maybe you would buy this one back from me at half price? I havetaken such care of it, that it is as good as new, you see. Look at itfor yourself. "

"Yes, I see it looks perfectly fresh; but here is some writing on thefly leaf; that would have to be torn out, you know; so that the bookcould never be sold as a new one again; I should have to sell it as asecond hand one, at half price; that would be a dollar and a half, sothat you see I would only give you a dollar for it. "

"Sir?" questioned Ishmael, in sad amazement. 

"Yes; because you know, I must have my own little profit on it. "

"Oh, I see; yes, to be sure, " assented Ishmael, with a sigh. 

But to part with his treasure and get no more than that! It was likeEsau selling his birthright for a mess of pottage. 

However, the poor cannot argue with the prosperous. The bargain was soonstruck. The book was sold and the boy received his dollar. And then thedealer, feeling a twinge of conscience, gave him a dime in addition. 

"Thank you, sir; I will take this out in paper and wafers, if youplease. I want some particularly, " said Ishmael. 

Having received a half dozen sheets of paper and a small box of wafers, the lad asked the loan of pen and ink; and then, standing at thecounter, he wrote a dozen circulars as follows:

 FOUND, A POCKET-BOOK. 

 On the Baymouth Turnpike Road, on Friday morning, I picked up a pocketbook, which the owner can have by coming to me at the Hill Hut and proving his property. 

 Ishmael Worth. 

Having finished these, he thanked the bookseller and left the shop, saying to himself:

"I won't keep that about me much longer to be a constant temptation andcross. "

He first went and bought a quarter of a pound of tea, a pound of sugar, and a bag of meal from Nutt's general shop for Hannah; and leaving themthere until he should have got through his work, he went around thevillage and wafered up his twelve posters at various conspicuous pointson fences, walls, pumps, trees, etc. 

Then he called for his provisions, and set out on his long walk home. 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

CLAUDIA TO THE RESCUE. 

 Let me not now ungenerously condemn My few good deeds on impulse--half unwise And scarce approved by reason's colder eyes; I will not blame, nor weakly blush for them; The feelings and the actions then stood right; And if regret, for half a moment sighs That worldly wisdom in its keener sight Had ordered matters so and so, my heart, Still, in its fervor loves a warmer part Than Prudence wots of; while my faithful mind, Heart's consort, also praises her for this; And on our conscience little load I find If sometimes we have helped another's bliss, At some small cost of selfish loss behind. 

 --_M. F. Tupper_. 

As Ishmael left the village by the eastern arm of the road a gaysleighing party dashed into it from the western one. Horses prancing, bells ringing, veils flying, and voices chattering, they drew up beforeHamlin's shop. The party consisted of Mr. Middleton, his wife, and hisniece. 

Mr. Middleton gave the reins to his wife and got out and went into theshop to make a few purchases. 

When his parcels had been made up and paid for, he turned to leave theshop; but then, as if suddenly recollecting something, he looked backand inquired:

"By the way, Hamlin, have those Histories come yet?"

"No, sir; but I shall write for them again by this evening's mail; Icannot think what has delayed them. However, sir, there is one copy thatI can let you have, if that will be of any service. "

"Certainly, certainly; it is better than nothing; let me look at it, "said Mr. Middleton, coming back from the counter and taking the bookfrom Hamlin's hands. 

In turning over the leaves he came to the presentation page, on which herecognized his own handwriting in the lines:

 "Presented to Ishmael Worth, as a reward of merit, by his friend James Middleton. "

"Why, this is the very copy I gave to that poor little fellow on thehill, last August! How did you come by it again?" asked Mr. Middleton, in astonishment. 

"He brought it here to sell about an hour ago, sir, and as it was aperfectly fresh copy, and I knew you were in a hurry for some of them, Ibought it of him, " replied the dealer. 

"But why should the lad have sold his book?"

"Why, law, sir, you cannot expect boys of his class to appreciate books. I dare say he wanted his money to spend in tops or marbles, or some suchtraps!" replied the dealer. 

"Very like, very like! though I am sorry to think so of that littlefellow. I had hoped better things of him, " assented Mr. Middleton. 

"Law, sir, boys will be boys. "

"Certainly; well, put the book in paper for me, and say what you aregoing to ask for it. "

"Well, sir, it is as good as new, and the work is much called for justabout now in this neighborhood. So I s'pose I shall have to ask youabout three dollars. "

"That is the full price. Did you give the boy that?" inquired thegentleman. 

"Well, no, sir; but you know I must have my own little profit, " repliedthe dealer, reddening. 

"Certainly, " assented Mr. Middleton, taking out his purse--a delicate, effeminate-looking article, that seemed to have been borrowed from hiswife, paying Hamlin and carrying off the book. 

As he got into the sleigh and took the reins with one hand, hugging uphis parcels and his purse loosely to his breast with the other, Mrs. Middleton said:

"Now, James, don't go and plant my purse on the road, as you did yourpocketbook this morning!"

"My dear, pray don't harp on that loss forever! It was not ruinous!There was only nine dollars in it. "

"And if there had been nine hundred, it would have been the same thing!"said the lady. 

Her husband laughed, put away his purse, stowed away his parcels, andthen, having both hands at liberty, took the reins and set off for home. 

As he dashed along the street a poster caught his attention. He drew up, threw the reins to Mrs. Middleton, jumped out, pulled down the poster, and returned to his seat in the sleigh. 

"Here we are, my dear, all right; the pocketbook is found, " he smiled, as he again took possession of the reins. 

"Found?" she echoed. 

"Yes, by that boy, Worth, you know, who behaved so well in that affairwith the Burghes. "

"Oh, yes! and he found the pocketbook?"

"Yes, and advertised it in this way, poor little fellow!"

And Mr. Middleton drove slowly while he read the circular to his wife. 

"Well, we can call by the hut as we go home, and you can get out and getit, and you will not forget to reward the poor boy for his honesty. Hemight have kept it, you know; for there was nothing in it that could betraced. "

"Very well; I will do as you recommend; but I have a quarrel with theyoung fellow, for all that, " said Mr. Middleton. 

"Upon what ground?" inquired his wife. 

"Why, upon the ground of his just having sold the book I gave him lastAugust as a reward of merit. "

"What did he do that for?"

"To get money to buy tops and marbles. "

"It is false!" burst out Claudia, speaking for the first time. 

"Claudia! Claudia! Claudia! How dare you charge your uncle withfalsehood?" exclaimed Mrs. Middleton, horrified. 

"I don't accuse him, aunt. He don't know anything about it! Somebody hastold him falsehoods about poor Ishmael, and he believes it just as hedid before, " exclaimed the little lady with flashing eyes. 

"Well, then, what did he sell it for, Claudia?" inquired her uncle, smiling. 

"I don't believe he sold it at all!" said Miss Claudia. 

Her uncle quietly untied the packet, and placed the book before her, open at the fly-leaf, upon which the names of the donor and the receiverwere written. 

"Well, then, I believe he must have sold it to get something to eat, "said Ishmael's obstinate little advocate; "for I heard Mr. Rutherfordsay that there was a great deal of suffering among the frozen-outworking classes this winter. "

"It may be as you say, my dear. I do not know. "

"Well, uncle, you ought to know, then! It is the duty of the prosperousto find out the condition of the poor! When I come into my fortune--"

"Yes, I know; we have heard all that before; the millennium will bebrought about, of course. But, if I am not mistaken, there is yourlittle protégé on the road before us!" said Mr. Middleton, slacking hishorse's speed, as he caught sight of Ishmael. 

"Yes, it is he! And look at him! does he look like a boy who isthinking of playing marbles and spinning tops?" inquired Miss Claudia. 

Indeed, no! no one who saw the child could have connected childishsports with him. He was creeping wearily along, bent under the burden ofthe bag of meal he carried on his back, and looking from behind morelike a little old man than a boy. 

Mr. Middleton drove slowly as he approached him. 

Ishmael drew aside to let the sleigh pass. 

But Mr. Middleton drew up to examine the boy more at his leisure. 

The stooping gait, the pale, broad forehead, the hollow eyes, the wastedcheeks and haggard countenance, so sad to see in so young a lad, spokemore eloquently than words could express the famine, the cold, theweariness, and illness he suffered. 

"Oh, uncle, if you haven't got a stone in your bosom instead of a heart, you will call the poor fellow here and give him a seat with us! He ishardly able to stand! And it is so bitter cold!" said Miss Claudia, drawing her own warm, sable cloak around her. 

"But--he is such an object! His clothes are all over patches, " said Mr. Middleton, who liked sometimes to try the spirit of his niece. 

"But, uncle, he is so clean! just as clean as you are, or even as I am, "said Miss Claudia. 

"And he has got a great bag on his back!"

"Well, uncle, that makes it so much harder for him to walk this long, long road, and is so much the more reason for you to take him in. Youcan put the bag down under your feet. And now if you don't call him herein one minute, I will--so there now! Ishmael! Ishmael, I say! Here, sir!here!" cried the little lady, standing up in the sleigh. 

"Ishmael! come here, my boy, " called Mr. Middleton. 

Our boy came as fast as his weakness and his burden would permit him. 

"Get in here, my boy, and take this seat beside me. We are going thesame way that you are walking, and we can give you a ride withoutinconveniencing ourselves. And besides I want to talk with you, " saidMr. Middleton, as Ishmael came up to the side of the sleigh and took offhis hat to the party. He bowed and took the seat indicated, and Mr. Middleton started his horses, driving slowly as he talked. 

"Ishmael, did you ever have a sleigh-ride before?" inquired Claudia, bending forward and laying her little gloved hand upon his shoulder, ashe sat immediately before her. 

"No, miss. "

"Oh, then, how you'll enjoy it! It is so grand! But only wait untiluncle is done talking and we are going fast! It is like flying! You'llsee! But what do you think, Ishmael! Do you think somebody--I know itwas that old Hamlin--didn't go and tell uncle that you went and--"

"Claudia, Claudia, hold your little tongue, my dear, for just fiveminutes, if you possibly can, while I speak to this boy myself!" saidMr. Middleton. 

"Ah, you see uncle don't want to hear of his mistakes. He is not vain ofthem. "

"Will you hold your tongue just for three minutes, Claudia?"

"Yes, sir, to oblige you; but I know I shall get a sore throat bykeeping my mouth open so long. "

And with that, I regret to say, Miss Merlin put out her little tongueand literally "held" it between her thumb and finger as she sank back inher seat. 

"Ishmael, " said Mr. Middleton, "I have seen your poster about thepocketbook. It is mine; I dropped it this forenoon, when we first cameout. "

"Oh, sir, I'm so glad I have found the owner, and that it is you!"exclaimed Ishmael, putting his hand in his pocket to deliver the lostarticle. 

"Stop, stop, stop, my impetuous little friend! Don't you know I mustprove my property before I take possession of it? That is to say, I mustdescribe it before I see it, so as to convince you that it is reallymine?"

"Oh, sir, but that was only put in my poster to prevent imposters fromclaiming it, " said Ishmael, blushing. 

"Nevertheless, it is better to do business in a business-like way, "persisted Mr. Middleton, putting his hand upon that of the boy toprevent him from drawing forth the pocketbook. "Imprimis--a crimsonpocketbook, with yellow silk lining; items--in one compartment threequarter eagles in gold; in another two dollars in silver. Now is thatright?"

"Oh, yes, sir; but it wasn't necessary; you know that!" said Ishmael, putting the pocketbook in the hand of its owner. 

Mr. Middleton opened it, took out a piece of gold and would havesilently forced it in the hand of the poor boy, but Ishmael respectfullybut firmly put back the offering. 

"Take it, my boy; it is usual to do so, you know, " said Mr. Middleton, in a low voice. 

"Not for me, sir; please do not offer me money again unless I haveearned it, " replied the boy, in an equally low tone. 

"But as a reward for finding the pocketbook, " persisted Mr. Middleton. 

"That was a piece of good fortune, sir, and deserved no reward, " repliedIshmael. 

"Then for restoring it to me. "

"That was simple honesty, sir, and merited nothing either. "

"Still, there would be no harm in your taking this from me, " insistedMr. Middleton, pressing the gold upon the boy. 

"No, sir; perhaps there would not be; but I am sure--I am verysure--that Thomas Jefferson when he was a boy would never have letanybody pay him for being honest!"

"Who?" demanded Mr. Middleton, with a look of perplexity. 

"Thomas Jefferson, sir, who wrote the Declaration of Independence, thatI read of in that beautiful history you gave me. "

"Oh!" said Mr. Middleton, ceasing to press the money upon the boy, butputting it in his pocketbook and returning the pocketbook to his pocket. "Oh! and by the way, I am told that you have sold that history to-day. "

"Yes! for money to buy spinning-tops and marbles with!" put in MissClaudia. 

Ishmael looked around in dismay for a moment, and then burst out with:

"Oh, sir! indeed, indeed I did not!"

"What! you didn't sell it?" exclaimed Mr. Middleton. 

"Oh, yes, sir, I sold it!" said Ishmael, as the irrepressible tearsrushed to his eyes. "I sold it! I was obliged to do so! Patrick Henrywould have done it, sir!"

"But you did not sell it to get money to buy toys with?"

"Oh, no, no, no, sir! It was a matter of life and death, else I neverwould have parted with my book!"

"Tell me all about it, my boy. "

"My Aunt Hannah has been ill in bed all the winter. I haven't been ableto earn anything for the last month. We got out of money and provisions. And Mr. Nutt wouldn't trust us for anything--"

"Uncle, mind you, don't deal with that horrid man any more!" interruptedClaudia. 

"Did you owe him much, my boy?" inquired Mr. Middleton. 

"Not a penny, sir! We never went in debt and never even asked for creditbefore. "

"Go on. "

"Well, sir, to-day Aunt Hannah wanted a cup of tea so badly that shecried for it, sir--cried like any little baby, and said she would die ifshe didn't get it; and so I brought my book to town this afternoon andsold it to get the money to buy what she wanted. "

"But you had the pocketbook full of money; why didn't you take some ofthat?"

"The Lord says 'Thou shalt not steal!'"

"But that would have been only taking in advance what would certainlyhave been offered to you as a reward. "

"I did think of that when aunt was crying for tea; but then I knew JohnHancock never would have done so, and I wouldn't, so I sold my book. "

"There, uncle! I said so! Now! now! what do you think now?" exclaimedClaudia. 

"It must have cost you much to part with your treasure, my boy!" saidMr. Middleton, without heeding the interruption of Claudia. 

Ishmael's features quivered, his eyes filled with tears and his voicefailed in the attempt to answer. 

"There is your book, my lad! It would be a sin to keep it from you, "said Mr. Middleton, taking a packet from the bottom of the sleigh andlaying it upon Ishmael's knees. 

"My book! my book again! Oh, oh, sir! I--" His voice sank; but his paleface beamed with surprise, delight, and gratitude. 

"Yes, it is yours, my boy, my noble boy! I give it to you once more; notas any sort of a reward; but simply because I think it would be a sin todeprive you of that which is yours by a sacred right. Keep it, and makeits history still your study, and its heroes still your models, " saidMr. Middleton, with emotion. 

Ishmael was trembling with joy! His delight at recovering his losttreasure was even greater than his joy at first possessing it had been. He tried to thank the donor; but his gratitude was too intense to findutterance in words. 

"There, there, I know it all as well as if you had expressed it with theeloquence of Cicero, my boy, " said Mr. Middleton. 

"Uncle, you are such a good old gander that I would hug and kiss you ifI could do so without climbing over aunt, " said Claudia. 

"Mr. Middleton, do let us get along a little faster! or we shall notreach home until dark, " said the lady. 

"My good, little old wife, it will not be dark this night. The moon isrising, and between the moon above and the snow beneath, we shall haveit as light as day all night. However, here goes!" And Mr. Middletontouched up his horse and they flew as before the wind. 

It was a glorious ride through a glorious scene! The setting sun waskindling all the western sky into a dazzling effulgence, and sendinglong golden lines of light through the interstices of the forest on onehand, and the rising moon was flooding the eastern heavens with asilvery radiance on the other. The sleigh flew as if drawn by wingedhorses. 

"Isn't it grand, Ishmael?" inquired Claudia. 

"Oh, yes, indeed, miss!" responded the boy, with fervor. 

In twenty minutes they had reached the turnpike road from which startedthe little narrow foot-path leading through the forest to the hut. 

"Well, my boy, here we are! jump out! Good-night! I shall not lose sightof you!" said Mr. Middleton, as he drew up to let Ishmael alight. 

"Good-night, sir; good-night, madam; good-night, Miss Claudia. I thankyou more than I can express, sir; but, indeed, indeed, I will try todeserve your kindness, " said Ishmael, as he bowed, and took his packonce more upon his back and sped on through the narrow forest-path thatled to his humble home. His very soul within him was singing for joy. 

CHAPTER XXV. 

A TURNING POINT IN ISHMAEL'S LIFE. 

 There is a thought, so purely blest, That to its use I oft repair, When evil breaks my spirit's rest, And pleasure is but varied care; A thought to light the darkest skies, To deck with flowers the bleakest moor, A thought whose home is paradise, The charities of Poor to Poor. 

 --_Richard Monckton Milnes_. 

Ishmael lifted the latch and entered the hut, softly lest Hannah shouldhave fallen asleep and he should awaken her. 

He was right. The invalid had dropped into one of those soft, refreshingslumbers that often visit and relieve the bed-ridden and exhaustedsufferer. 

Ishmael closed the door, and moving about noiselessly, placed histreasured book on the bureau; put away his provisions in the cupboard;rekindled the smoldering fire; hung on the teakettle; set a little standby Hannah's bedside, covered it with a white napkin and arranged alittle tea service upon it; and then drew his little three-legged stoolto the fire and sat down to warm and rest his cold and tired limbs, andto watch the teakettle boil. 

Poor child! His feeble frame had been fearfully over-tasked, and so theheat of the fire and the stillness of the room, both acting upon hisexhausted nature, sent him also to sleep, and he was soon nodding. 

He was aroused by the voice of Hannah, who had quietly awakened. 

"Is that you, Ishmael?" she said. 

"Yes, aunt, " he exclaimed, starting up with a jerk and rubbing his eyes;"and I have got the tea and things; and the kettle is boiling; but Ithought I wouldn't set the tea to draw until you woke up, for fear itshould be flat. "

"Come here, my child, " said Hannah, in a kindly voice, for you see thewoman had had a good sleep and had awakened much refreshed, with calmernerves and consequently better temper. 

"Come to me, Ishmael, " repeated Hannah; for the boy had delayed obeyinglong enough to set the tea to draw, and cut a slice of bread and set itdown to toast. 

When Ishmael went to her she raised herself up, took his thin facebetween her hands and gazed tenderly into it, saying:

"I was cross to you, my poor lad, this morning; but, oh, Ishmael, I feltso badly I was not myself. "

"I know that, Aunt Hannah; because when you are well you are always goodto me; but let me run and turn your toast now, or it will burn; I willcome back to you directly. " And the practical little fellow flew off tothe fireplace, turned the bread and flew back to Hannah. 

"But where did you get the tea, my child?" she inquired. 

Ishmael told her all about it in a few words. 

"And so you walked all the way back again to Baymouth, tired and hungryas you were; and you sold your precious book, much as you loved it, allto get tea for me! Oh, my boy, my boy, how unjust I have been to you!But I am so glad Mr. Middleton bought it back and gave it to you again!And the pocketbook was his! and you gave it to him and would not takeany reward for finding it! That was right, Ishmael; that was right! Andit seems to me that every good thing you have ever got in this world hascome through your own right doing, " was the comment of Hannah upon allthis. 

"Well, aunt, now the tea is drawn and the toast is ready, let me fix iton the stand for you, " said Ishmael, hurrying off to perform this duty. 

That evening Hannah enjoyed her tea and dry toast only as a woman longdebarred from these feminine necessaries could enjoy them. 

When Ishmael also had had his supper and had cleared away the teaservice, he took down his book, lighted his little bit of candle, and--as his aunt was in a benignant humor, he went to her for sympathyin his studies--saying:

"Now, aunt, don't mope and pine any more! George Washington didn't, evenwhen the army was at Valley Forge and the snow was so deep and thesoldiers were barefooted! Let me read you something out of my book toamuse you! Come, now, I'll read to you what General Marion did when--"

"No, don't, that's a good boy, " exclaimed Hannah, interrupting him inalarm, for she had a perfect horror of books. "You know it would tire meto death, dear! But just you sit down by me and tell me about Mrs. Middleton and Miss Merlin and how they were dressed. For you know, dear, as I haven't been able to go to church these three months, I don't evenknow what sort of bonnets ladies wear. "

This requirement was for a moment a perfect "poser" to Ishmael. Hewasn't interested in bonnets! But, however, as he had the faculty ofseeing, understanding, and remembering everything that fell under hisobservation in his own limited sphere, he blew out his candle, sat downand complied with his aunt's request, narrating and describing until shewent to sleep. Then he relighted his little bit of candle and sat downto enjoy his book in comfort. 

That night the wind shifted to the south and brought in a mild spell ofweather. 

The next day the snow began to melt. In a week it was entirely gone. Ina fortnight the ground had dried. All the roads became passable. Withthe improved weather, Hannah grew better. She was able to leave her bedin the morning and sit in her old arm-chair in the chimney-corner allday. 

The professor came to look after his pupil. 

Poor old odd-jobber! In his palmiest days he had never made more thansufficient for the support of his large family; he had never been ableto lay up any money; and so, during this long and severe winter, when hewas frozen out of work, he and his humble household suffered manyprivations; not so many as Hannah and Ishmael had; for you see, thereare degrees of poverty even among the very poor. 

And the good professor knew this; and so on that fine March morning, when he made his appearance at the hut, it was with a bag of flour onhis back and a side of bacon in his hand. 

After the primitive manners of the neighborhood, he dispensed withrapping, and just lifted the latch and walked in. 

He found Hannah sitting propped up in her arm-chair in thechimney-corner engaged in knitting and glancing ruefully at theunfinished web of cloth in the motionless loom, at which she was not yetstrong enough to work. 

Ishmael was washing his own clothes in a little tub in the other corner. 

"Morning, Miss Hannah! Morning, young Ishmael!" said the professor, depositing both his bag and bacon on the floor. "I thought I had betterjust drop in and see after my 'prentice. Work has been frozen up allwinter, and now, like the rivers and the snow-drifts, it is thawed andcoming with a rush! I'm nigh torn to pieces by the people as has beensending after me; and I thought I would just take young Ishmael on againto help me. And--as I heard how you'd been disabled along of therheumatism, Miss Hannah, and wasn't able to do no weaving, and as Iknowed young Ishmael would be out of work as long as I was, I just madeso free, Miss Hannah, as to bring you this bag of flour and middling ofbacon, which I hope you'll do me the honor of accepting from awell-wisher. "

"I thank you, Morris; I thank you, very much; but I cannot think ofaccepting such assistance from you; I know that even you and your familymust have suffered something from this long frost; and I cannot take thegift. "

"Law, Miss Hannah, " interrupted the honest fellow, "I never presumed tothink of such a piece of impertinence as to offer it to you as a gift! Ionly make free to beg you will take it as an advance on account ofyoung Ishmael's wages, as he'll be sure to earn; for, bless you, miss, work is a-pouring in on top of me like the cataract of Niagara itself!And I shall want all his help. And as I mayn't have the money to pay himall at once, I would consider of it as a favor to a poor man if youwould take this much of me in advance, " said the professor. 

Now whether Hannah was really deceived by the benevolent diplomacy ofthe good professor or not, I do not know; but at any rate her sensitivepride was hushed by the prospect held out of Ishmael's labor paying forthe provisions, and--as she had not tasted meat for three weeks and hervery soul longed for a savory "rasher, " she replied:

"Oh, very well, Morris, if you will take the price out of Ishmael'swages, I will accept the things and thank you kindly too; for to becandid with so good a friend as yourself, I was wanting a bit of broiledbacon. "

"Law, Miss Hannah! It will be the greatest accommodation of me as everwas, " replied the unscrupulous professor. 

Ishmael understood it all. 

"Indeed, professor, " he said, "I think Israel Putnam would have approvedof you. "

"Well, young Ishmael, I don't know; when I mean well, my acts often workevil; and sometimes I don't even mean well! But it wasn't to talk ofmyself as I came here this morning; but to talk to you. You see Ipromised to go over to Squire Hall's and do several jobs for himto-morrow forenoon; and to-morrow afternoon I have got to go to old Mr. Truman's; and to-morrow night I have to lead the exercises at thecolored people's missionary meeting at Colonel Mervin's. And as all thatwill be a long day's work I shall have to make a pretty early start inthe morning; and of course as I shall want you to go with me, I shallexpect you to be at my house as early as six o'clock in the morning! Canyou do it?"

"Oh, yes, professor, " answered Ishmael, so promptly and cheerfully thatMorris laid his hand upon the boy's head and smiled upon him as he said, addressing Hannah:

"I take great comfort in this boy, Miss Hannah! I look upon him a'mostas my own son and the prop of my declining years; and I hope to preparehim to succeed me in my business, when I know he will do honor to theprofession. Ah, Miss Hannah, I feel that I am not as young as I used tobe; in fact that I am rather past my first youth; being about fifty-twoyears of age; professional duties wear a man, Miss Hannah! But when Ilook at this boy I am consoled! I say to myself, though I have no son, Ishall have a successor who will do credit to my memory, my teachings, and my profession! I say, that, fall when it may, my mantle will fallupon his shoulders!" concluded Jim with emotion. And like all othergreat orators, after having produced his finest effect, he made hisexit. 

The next morning, according to promise, Ishmael rendered himself at theappointed hour at the professor's cottage. They set out together upontheir day's round of professional visits. The forenoon was spent atSquire Hall's in mending a pump, fitting up some rain pipes, and puttinglocks on some of the cabin doors. Then they got their dinner. Theafternoon was spent at old Mr. Truman's in altering the position of thelightning rod, laying a hearth, and glazing some windows. And there theygot their tea. The evening was spent in leading the exercises of thecolored people's missionary meeting at Colonel Mervin's. As the sessionwas rather long, it was after ten o'clock before they left themeetinghouse on their return home. The night was pitch dark; the rain, that had been threatening all day long, now fell in torrents. 

They had a full four miles walk before them; but the professor had anample old cotton umbrella that sheltered both himself and his pupil; sothey trudged manfully onward, cheering the way with lively talk insteadof overshadowing it with complaints. 

"Black as pitch! not a star to be seen! but courage, my boy! we shallenjoy the light of the fireside all the more when we get home, " said theprofessor. 

"Yes! there's one star, professor, just rising, --rising away there onthe horizon beyond Brudenell Hall, " said Ishmael. 

"So there is a star, or--something! it looks more like the moon rising;only there's no moon, " said Morris, scrutinizing the small dull redglare that hung upon the skirts of the horizon. 

"It looks more like a bonfire than either, just now, " added the boy, asthe lurid red light suddenly burst into flame. 

"It is! it is a large fire!" cried the professor, as the whole skybecame suddenly illuminated with a red glare. 

"It is Brudenell Hall in flames!" exclaimed Ishmael Worth, in horror. "Let us hurry on and see if we can do any good. "

CHAPTER XXVI. 

THE FIRE AT BRUDENELL HALL. 

 Seize then the occasion; by the forelock take That subtle power the never halting time, Lest a mere moment's putting off should make Mischance almost as heavy as a crime. 

 --_Wordsworth_. 

Through the threefold darkness of night, clouds, and rain they hurriedon towards that fearful beacon light which flamed on the edge of thehorizon. 

The rain, which continued to pour down in torrents, appeared to dampenwithout extinguishing the fire, which blazed and smoldered at intervals. 

"Professor?" said the boy, as they toiled onward through the storm. 

"Well, young Ishmael?"

"It seems to me the fire is inside the house. "

"Why so, young Ishmael?"

"Because if it wasn't, this storm would put it out at once! Why, if ithad been the roof that caught from a burning chimney this driving rainwould have quenched it in no time. "

"The roof couldn't catch, young Ishmael; it is all slate. "

"Oh!" ejaculated Ishmael, as they increased their speed. They proceededin silence for a few minutes, keeping their eyes fixed on the burningbuilding, when Ishmael suddenly exclaimed:

"The house is burning inside, professor! You can see now the windowsdistinctly shaped out in fire against the blackness of the building!"

"Just so, young Ishmael!"

"Now, then, professor, we must run on as fast as ever we can if weexpect to be of any use. George Washington was always prompt in times ofdanger. Remember the night he crossed the Delaware. Come, professor, letus run on!"

"Oh yes, young Ishmael, it is all very well for you to say--run on! buthow the deuce am I to do it, with the rain and wind beating this oldumbrella this way and that way, until, instead of being a protection toour persons, it is a hindrance to our progress!" said the professor, ashe tried in vain to shelter himself and his companion from the fury ofthe floods of rain. 

"I think you had better let it down, professor, " suggested the boy. 

"If I did we should get wet to the skin, young Ishmael, " objectedMorris. 

"All right, professor. The wetter we get the better we shall be preparedto fight the fire. "

"That is true enough, young Ishmael, " admitted Morris. 

"And besides, if you let the umbrella down you can furl it and use itfor a walking-stick, and instead of being a hindrance it will be a helpto you. "

"That is a good idea, young Ishmael. Upon my word, I think if you hadbeen born in a higher speer of society, young Ishmael, your talentswould have caused you to be sent to the State's legislature, I doindeed. And you might even have come to be put on the Committee of Waysand Means. "

"I hope that is not a committee of mean ways, professor. "

"Ha, ha, ha! There you are again! I say it and I stand to it, if you hadbeen born in a more elevated speer you would have ris' to be something!"

"Law, professor!"

"Well, I do! and it is a pity you hadn't been! As it is, my poor boy, you will have to be contented to do your duty 'in that station to whichthe Lord has been pleased to call you, ' as the Scriptur' says. "

"As the catechism says, professor! The Scripture says nothing aboutstations. The Lord in no respecter of persons. "

"Catechism, was it? Well, it's all the same. "

"Professor! look how the flames are pouring from that window! Run! run!"And with these words Ishmael took to his heels and ran as fast asdarkness, rain, and wind would permit him. 

The professor took after him; but having shorter wind, though longerlegs, than his young companion, he barely managed to keep up with theflying boy. 

When they arrived upon the premises a wild scene of confusion lighted upby a lurid glare of fire met their view. The right wing of the mansionwas on fire; the flames were pouring from the front windows at that end. A crowd of frightened negroes were hurrying towards the building withwater buckets; others were standing on ladders placed against the wall;others again were clinging about the eaves, or standing on the roof; andall these were engaged in passing buckets from hand to hand, or dashingwater on the burning timbers; all poor ineffectual efforts to extinguishthe fire, carried on amid shouts, cries, and halloos that only added tothe horrible confusion. 

A little further removed, the women and children of the family, heedlessof the pouring rain, were clinging together under the old elm tree. Themaster of the house was nowhere to be seen; nor did there appear to beany controlling head to direct the confused mob; or any system in theirwork. 

"Professor, they have got no hose! they are trying to put the fire outwith buckets of water! that only keeps it under a little; it will notput it out. Let me run to your house and get the hose you wash windowsand water trees with, and we can play it right through that window intothe burning room, " said Ishmael breathlessly. And without waiting forpermission, he dashed away in the direction of Morris' house. 

"Where the deuce is the master?" inquired the professor, as he seized afull bucket of water from a man on the ground, and passed it up to theoverseer, Grainger, who was stationed on the ladder. 

"He went out to an oyster supper at Commodore Burghe's, and he hasn'tgot back yet, " answered the man, as he took the bucket and passed it toa negro on the roof. 

"How the mischief did the fire break out?" inquired the professor, handing up another bucket. 

"Nobody knows. The mistress first found it out. She was woke upa-smelling of smoke, and screeched out, and alarmed the house, and allrun out here. Be careful there, Jovial! Don't be afraid of singing yourold wool nor breaking your old neck either! because if you did you'donly be saving the hangman and the devil trouble. Go nearer to thatwindow! dash the water full upon the flames!"

"Are all safe out of the house?" anxiously inquired the professor. 

"Every soul!" was the satisfactory answer. 

At this moment Ishmael came running up with the hose, exclaiming:

"Here, professor! if you will take this end, I will run and put thesucker to the spout of the pump. "

"Good fellow, be off then!" answered Morris. 

The hose was soon adjusted and played into the burning room. 

At this moment there was a sudden outcry from the group of women andchildren, and the form of Mrs. Middleton was seen flying through thedarkness towards the firemen. 

"Oh, Grainger!" she cried, as soon as she had reached the spot, "oh, Grainger! the Burghe boys are still in the house. I thought they hadbeen out! I thought I had seen them out but it was two negro boys Imistook in the dark for them! I have just found out my mistake! Oh, Grainger, they will perish! What is to be done?"

"'Pends on what room they're in, ma'am, " hastily replied the overseer, while all the others stood speechless with intense anxiety. 

"Oh, they are in the front chamber there, immediately above the burningroom!" cried Mrs. Middleton, wringing her hands in anguish, while thosearound suspended their breath in horror. 

"More than a man's life would be worth to venture, ma'am. The ceiling ofthat burning room is on fire; it may fall in any minute, carrying thefloor of the upper room with it!"

"Oh, Grainger! but the poor, poor lads! to perish so horribly in theirearly youth!"

"It's dreadful, ma'am; but it can't be helped! It's as much as certaindeath to any man as goes into that part of the building!"

"Grainger! Grainger! I cannot abandon these poor boys to their fate!Think of their mother! Grainger, I will give any man his freedom whowill rescue those two boys! It is said men will risk their lives forthat. Get up on the ladder where you can be seen and heard and proclaimthis--shout it forth: 'Freedom to any slave who will save the Burgheboys!'"

The overseer climbed up the ladder, and after calling the attention ofthe whole mob by three loud whoops and waiting a moment until quiet wasrestored, he shouted:

"Freedom to any slave who will save the Burghe boys from the burningbuilding!"

He paused and waited a response; but the silenqe was unbroken. 

"They won't risk it, ma'am; life is sweet, " said the overseer, comingdown from his post. 

"I cannot give them up, Grainger! I cannot for their poor mother's sake!Go up once more! Shout forth that I offer liberty to any slave with hiswife and children--if he will save those boys!" said Mrs. Middleton. 

Once more the overseer mounted his post and thundered forth theproclamation:

"Freedom to any slave with his wife and children, who will rescue theBurghe boys!"

Again he paused for a response; and nothing but dead silence followed. 

"I tell you they won't run the risk, ma'am! Life is sweeter thananything else in this world!" said the overseer, coming down. 

"And the children will perish horribly in the fire and their mother willgo raving mad; for I know I should in her place!" cried Mrs. Middleton, wildly wringing her hands, and gazing in helpless anguish upon theburning house. 

"And oh! poor fellows! they are such naughty boys that they will goright from this fire to the other one!" cried Claudia Merlin, runningup, burying her face in her aunt's gown, and beginning to sob. 

"Oh! oh! oh! that I should live to see such a horrible sight! to standhere and gaze at that burning building and know those boys are perishinginside and not be able to help them. Oh! oh! oh!" And here Mrs. Middleton broke into shrieks and cries in which she was joined by allthe women and children present. 

"Professor! I can't stand this any longer! I'll do it!" exclaimedIshmael. 

"Do what?" asked the astonished artist. 

"Get those boys out. "

"You will kill yourself for nothing. "

"No, there's a chance of saving them, professor, and I'll risk it!" saidIshmael, preparing for a start. 

"You are mad; you shall not do it!" exclaimed the professor, seizing theboy and holding him fast. 

"Let me go, professor! Let me go, I tell you! Let me go, then! IsraelPutman would have done it, and so will I!" cried Ishmael, struggling, breaking away, and dashing into the burning building. 

"But George Washington wouldn't, you run mad maniac, he would have hadmore prudence!" yelled the professor, beside himself with grief andterror. 

But Ishmael was out of hearing. He dashed into the front hall, and upthe main staircase, through volumes of smoke that rolled down and nearlysuffocated him. Ishmael's excellent memory stood him in good stead now. He recollected to have read that people passing through burning housesfilled with smoke must keep their heads as near the floor as possible, in order to breathe. So when he reached the first landing, where thefire in the wing was at its worst, and the smoke was too dense to beinhaled at all, he ducked his head quite low, and ran through the halland up the second flight of stairs to the floor upon which the boysslept. 

He dashed on to the front room and tried the door. It was fastenedwithin. He rapped and called and shouted aloud. In vain! The dwellerswithin were dead, or dead asleep, it was impossible to tell which. Hethrew himself down upon the floor to get a breath of air, and then aroseand renewed his clamor at the door. He thumped, kicked, shrieked, hopingeither to force the door or awake the sleepers. Still in vain! Thesilence of death reigned within the chamber; while volumes of lurid redsmoke began to fill the passage. This change in the color of the smokewarned the brave young boy that the flames were approaching. At thismoment, too, he heard a crash, a fall, and a sudden roaring up of thefire, somewhere near at hand. Again in frantic agony he renewed hisassault upon the door. This time it was suddenly torn open by the boyswithin. 

And horrors of horrors! what a scene met his appalled gaze! One portionof the floor of the room had fallen in, and the flames were rushing upthrough the aperture from the gulf of fire beneath. The two boys, standing at the open door, were spell-bound in a sort of panic. 

"What is it?" asked one of them, as if uncertain whether this werereality or nightmare. 

"It is fire! Don't you see! Quick! Seize each of you a blanket! Wrapyourselves up and follow me! Stoop near the floor when you want tobreathe! Shut your eyes and mouths when the flame blows too near. Nowthen!"

It is marvelous how quickly we can understand and execute when we are inmortal peril. Ishmael was instantly understood and obeyed. The ladsquick as lightning caught up blankets, enveloped themselves, and rushedfrom the sinking room. 

It was well! In another moment the whole floor, with a great, sobbingcreak, swayed, gave way, and fell into the burning gulf of fire below. The flames with a horrible roar rushed up, filling the upper spacewhere the chamber floor had been; seizing on the window-shutters, mantel-piece, door-frames, and all the timbers attached to the walls;and finally streaming out into the passage as if in pursuit of theflying boys. 

They hurried down the hot and suffocating staircase to the first floor, where the fire raged with the utmost fury. Here the flames were burstingfrom the burning wing through every crevice into the passage. Ishmael, in his wet woollen clothes, and the boys in their blankets, dashed forthe last flight of stairs--keeping their eyes shut to save their sight, and their lips closed to save their lungs--and so reached the groundfloor. 

Here a wall of flame barred their exit through the front door; but theyturned and made their escape through the back one. 

They were in the open air! Scorched, singed, blackened, choked, breathless, but safe!

Here they paused a moment to recover breath, and then Ishmael said:

"We must run around to the front and let them know that we are out!" Thetwo boys that he had saved obeyed him as though he had been theirmaster. 

Extreme peril throws down all false conventional barriers and reducesand elevates all to their proper level. In this supreme moment Ishmaelinstinctively commanded, and they mechanically obeyed. 

They hurried around to the front. Here, as soon as they were seen andrecognized, a general shout of joy and thanksgiving greeted them. 

Ishmael found himself clasped in the arms of his friend, the professor, whose tears rained down upon him as he cried:

"Oh, my boy! my boy! my brave, noble boy! there is not your like uponthis earth! no, there is not! I would kneel down and kiss your feet! Iwould! There isn't a prince in this world like you! there isn't, Ishmael! there isn't! Any king on this earth might be proud of you forhis son and heir, my great-hearted boy!" And the professor bowed hishead over Ishmael and sobbed for joy and gratitude and admiration. 

"Was it really so well done, professor?" asked Ishmael simply. 

"Well done, my boy? Oh, but my heart is full! Was it well done? Ah! myboy, you will never know how well done, until the day when the Lordshall judge the quick and the dead!"

"Ah, if your poor young mother were living to see her boy now!" cried theprofessor, with emotion. 

"Don't you suppose mother does live, and does see me, professor? I do, "answered Ishmael, in a sweet, grave tone that sounded like Nora's ownvoice. 

"Yes, I do! I believe she does live and watch over you, my boy. "

Meanwhile Mrs. Middleton, who had been engaged in receiving andrejoicing over the two rescued youths, and soothing and composing theiragitated spirits, now came forward to speak to Ishmael. 

"My boy, " she said, in a voice shaking with emotion, "my brave, goodboy! I cannot thank you in set words; they would be too poor and weak totell you what I feel, what we must all ever feel towards you, for whatyou have done to-night. But we will find some better means to prove howmuch we thank, how highly we esteem you. "

Ishmael held down his head, and blushed as deeply as if he had beendetected in some mean act and reproached for it. 

"You should look up and reply to the madam!" whispered the professor. 

Ishmael raised his head and answered:

"My lady, I'm glad the young gentlemen are saved and you are pleased. But I do not wish to have more credit than I have a right to; for I feelvery sure George Washington wouldn't. "

"What do you say, Ishmael? I do not quite understand you, " said thelady. 

"I mean, ma'am, as it wasn't altogether myself as the credit is due to. "

"To whom else, then, I should like to know?" inquired the lady inperplexity. 

"Why, ma'am, it was all along of Israel Putnam. I knew he would havedone it, and so I felt as if I was obliged to!"

"What a very strange lad! I really do not quite know what to make ofhim!" exclaimed the lady, appealing to the professor for want of abetter oracle. 

"Why, you see, ma'am, Ishmael is a noble boy and a real hero; but he isa bit of a heathen for all that, with a lot of false gods, as he iseverlasting a-falling down and a-worshiping of! And the names of hisgods are Washington, Jefferson, Putnam, Marion, Hancock, Henry, and thelot! The History of the United States is his Bible, ma'am, and itswarriors and statesmen are his saints and prophets. But by-and-by, whenIshmael grows older, ma'am, he will learn, when he does any great orgood action, to give the glory to God, and not to those dead and goneold heroes who were only flesh and blood like himself, " said theprofessor. 

Mrs. Middleton looked perplexed, as if the professor's explanationitself required to be explained. And Ishmael, who seemed to think that aconfession of faith was imperatively demanded of him, looked anxious--asif eager, yet ashamed, to speak. Presently he conquered his shyness, andsaid:

"But you are mistaken, professor. I am not a heathen. I wish to be aChristian. And I do give the glory of all that is good and great to theLord, first of all. I do honor the good and great men; but I do glorifyand worship the Lord who made them. " And having said this, Ishmaelcollapsed, hung his head, and blushed. 

"And I know he is not a heathen, you horrid old humbug of a professor!He is a brave, good boy, and I love him!" said Miss Claudia, joining thecircle and caressing Ishmael. 

But, ah! again it was as if she had caressed Fido, and said that he wasa brave, good dog, and she loved him. 

"It was glorious in you to risk your life to save those good-for-nothingboys, who were your enemies besides! It was so! And it makes my heartburn to think of it! Stoop down and kiss me, Ishmael!"

Our little hero had the instincts of a gallant little gentleman. Andthis challenge was to be in no wise rejected. And though he blusheduntil his very ears seemed like two little flames, he stooped andtouched with his lips the beautiful white forehead that gleamed likemarble beneath its curls of jet. The storm, which had abated for a time, now arose with redoubled violence. The party of women and children, though gathered under a group of cedars, were still somewhat exposed toits fury. 

Grainger, the overseer, who with his men had been unremitting in hisendeavors to arrest the progress of the flames, now came up, and takingoff his hat to Mrs. Middleton, said:

"Madam, I think, please the Lord, we shall bring the fire underpresently and save all of the building except that wing, which must go. But, if you please, ma'am, I don't see as you can do any good standinghere looking on. So, now that the young gentlemen are safe, hadn't youall better take shelter in my house? It is poor and plain; but it isroomy and weather-tight, and altogether you and the young gentlemen andladies would be better off there than here. "

"I thank you, Grainger. I thank you for your offer as well as for yourefforts here to-night, and I will gladly accept the shelter of your rooffor myself and young friends. Show us the way. Come, my children. Come, you also, Ishmael. "

"Thank you very much, ma'am; but, if I can't be of any more use here, Imust go home. Aunt Hannah will be looking for me. " And with a low bowthe boy left the scene. 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

ISHMAEL'S FIRST STEP ON THE LADDER. 

 There is a proud modesty in merit Averse to asking, and resolved to pay Ten times the gift it asks. 

 --_Dryden_. 

Early the next morning the professor made his appearance at the HillHut. Ishmael and Hannah had eaten breakfast, and the boy was helping hisaunt to put the warp in the loom for a new piece of cloth. 

"Morning, Miss Hannah; morning, young Ishmael! You are wanted, sir, upto the Hall this morning, and I am come to fetch you, " said theprofessor, as he stood within the door, hat in hand. 

"Yes, I thought I would be; there must be no end of the rubbish to clearaway, and the work to do up there now, and I knew you would be expectingme to help you, and so I meant to go up to your house just as soon asever I had done helping aunt to put the warp in her loom, " answeredIshmael simply. 

"Oh, you think you are wanted only to be set to work, do you? All right!But now as we are in a hurry, I'll just lend a hand to this little job, and help it on a bit. " And with that the artist, who was as expert atone thing as at another, began to aid Hannah with such good will thatthe job was soon done. 

"And now, young Ishmael, get your hat and come along. We must be going. "

But now, Hannah, who had been far too much interested in her loom tostop to talk until its arrangements were complete, found time to ask:

"What about that fire at Brudenell Hall?"

"Didn't young Ishmael tell you, ma'am?" inquired the professor. 

"Very little! I was asleep when he came in last night, and this morning, when I saw that his clothes were all scorched, and his hair singed, andhis hands and face red and blistered, and I asked him what in the worldhe had been doing to himself, he told me there had been a fire at theHall; but that it was put out before any great damage had been done;nothing but that old wing, that they talked about pulling down, burnt, as if to save them the trouble, " answered Hannah. 

"Well, ma'am, that was a cheerful way of putting it, certainly; and itwas also a true one; there wasn't much damage done, as the wing that wasburnt was doomed to be pulled down this very spring. But did youngIshmael tell you how he received his injuries?"

"No; but I suppose of course he got them, boy-like, bobbing about amongthe firemen, where he had no business to be!"

"Ma'am, he got burned in saving Commodore Burghe's sons, who were fastasleep in that burning wing! Mrs. Middleton offered freedom to any slavewho would venture through the house to wake them up, and get them out. Not a man would run the risk! Then she offered freedom, not only to anyslave, but also to the wife and children of any slave who would go inand save the boys. Not a man would venture! And when all the women werea-howling like a pack of she-wolves, what does your nephew do but rushinto the burning wing, rouse up the boys and convoy them out! Just intime, too! for they were sleeping in the chamber over the burning room, and in two minutes after they got out the floor of that room fell in!"said Morris. 

"You did that! You!" exclaimed Hannah vehemently. "Oh! you horrid, wicked, ungrateful, heartless boy! to do such a thing as that, when youknew if you had been burnt to death, it would have broken my heart! Andyou, professor! you are just as bad as he is! yes, and worse too, because you are older and ought to have more sense! The boy was in yourcare! pretty care you took of him to let him rush right into the fire. "

"Ma'am, if you'll only let me get in a word edgeways like, I'll tell youall about it! I did try to hinder him! I reasoned with him, and I heldhim tight, until the young hero--rascal, I mean--turned upon me and hitme in the face; yes, ma'am, administered a 'scientific' right into myleft eye, and then broke from me and rushed into the burning house--"

"Well, but I thought it better the professor should have a black eyethan the boys should be burned to death, " put in the lad, edgeways. 

"Oh, Ishmael, Ishmael, this is dreadful! You will live to be hung, Iknow you will!" sobbed Hannah. 

"Well, aunty, maybe so; Sir William Wallace did, " coolly replied theboy. 

"What in the name of goodness set you on to do such a wild thing? Andall for old Burghe's sons! Pray, what were they to you that you shouldrush through burning flames for them?"

"Nothing, Aunt Hannah; only I felt quite sure that Israel Putnam orFrancis Marion would have done just as I did, and so--"

"Plague take Francis Putnam and Israel Marion, and also PatrickHandcock, and the whole lot of 'em, I say! Who are they that you shouldrun your head into the fire for them? They wouldn't do it for you, thatI know, " exclaimed Hannah. 

"Aunt Hannah, " said Ishmael pathetically, "you have got their names allwrong, and you always do! Now, if you would only take my book and readit while you are resting in your chair, you would soon learn all theirnames, and--"

"I'll take the book and throw it into the fire the very first time I laymy hands on it! The fetched book will be your ruin yet!" exclaimedHannah, in a rage. 

"Now, Miss Worth, " interposed the professor, "if you destroy that boy'sbook, I'll never do another odd job for you as long as ever I live. "

"Whist! professor, " whispered Ishmael. "You don't know my Aunt Hannah aswell as I do. Her bark is a deal worse than her bite! If you only knewhow many times she has threatened to 'shake the life out of' me, and to'be the death of me', and to 'flay' me 'alive, ' you would know the valueof her words. "

"Well, young Ishmael, you are the best judge of that matter, at least. And now are you ready? For, indeed, we haven't any more time to spare. We ought to have been at the Hall before this. "

"Why, professor, I have been ready and waiting for the last tenminutes. "

"Come along, then. And now, Miss Hannah, you take a well-wisher'sadvice and don't scold young Ishmael any more about last night'sadventur'. He has done a brave act, and he has saved the commodore'ssons without coming to any harm by it. And, if he hasn't made hiseverlasting fortun', he has done himself a great deal of credit and madesome very powerful friends. And that I tell you! You wait and see!" saidthe professor, as he left the hut, followed by Ishmael. 

The morning was clear and bright after the rain. As they emerged intothe open air Ishmael naturally raised his eyes and threw a glance acrossthe valley to Brudenell Heights. The main building was standing intact, though darkened; and a smoke, small in volume but dense black in hue, was rising from the ruins of the burnt wing. 

Ishmael had only time to observe this before they descended the narrowpath that led through the wooded valley. They walked on in perfectsilence until the professor, noticing the unusual taciturnity of hiscompanion, said:

"What is the matter with you, young Ishmael? You haven't opened yourmouth since we left the hut. "

"Oh, professor, I am thinking of Aunt Hannah. It is awful to hear herrail about the great heroes as she does. It is flat blasphemy, " repliedthe boy solemnly. 

"Hum, ha, well, but you see, young Ishmael, though I wouldn't like tosay one word to dampen your enthusiasm for great heroism, yet the truthis the truth; and that compels me to say that you do fall down andworship these same said heroes a little too superstitiously. Why, law, my boy, there wasn't one of them, at twelve years of age, had any morecourage or wisdom than you have--even if as much. "

"Oh, professor, don't say that--don't! it is almost as bad as anythingAunt Hannah says of them. Don't go to compare their great boyhood withmine. History tells what they were, and I know myself what I am. "

"I doubt if you do, young Ishmael. "

"Yes! for I know that I haven't even so much as the courage that youthink I have; for, do you know, professor, when I was in that burninghouse I was frightened when I saw the red smoke rolling into the passageand heard the fire roaring so near me? And once--I am ashamed to own it, but I will, because I know George Washington always owned his faultswhen he was a boy--once, I say, I was tempted to run away and leave theboys to their fate. "

"But you didn't do it, my lad. And you were not the less courageousbecause you knew the danger that you freely met. You are brave, Ishmael, and as good and wise as you are brave. "

"Oh, professor, I know you believe so, else you wouldn't say it; but Icannot help thinking that if I really were good I shouldn't vex AuntHannah as often as I do. "

"Humph!" said the professor. 

"And then if I were wise, I would always know right from wrong. "

"And don't you?"

"No, professor; because last night when I ran into the burning house tosave the boys I thought I was doing right; and when the ladies so kindlythanked me, I felt sure I had done right; but this morning, when AuntHannah scolded me, I doubted. "

"My boy, listen to the oracles of experience. Do what your ownconscience assures you to be right, and never mind what others think orsay. I, who have been your guide up to this time, can be so no longer. Ican scarcely follow you at a distance, much less lead you. A higher handthan Old Morris' shall take you on. But here we are now at the Hall, "said the professor, as he opened the gates to admit himself and hiscompanion. 

They passed up the circular drive leading to the front of the house, paused a few minutes to gaze upon the ruins of the burnt wing, of whichnothing was now left but a shell of brick walls and a cellar of smokingcinders, and then they entered the house by the servant's door. 

"Mr. Middleton and the Commodore are in the library, and you are to takethe boy in there, " said Grainger, who was superintending the clearingaway of the ruins. 

"Come along, young Ishmael!" said the professor, and as he knew the wayof the house quite as well as the oldest servant in it, he passedstraight on to the door of the library and knocked. 

"Come in, " said the voice of Mr. Middleton. 

And the professor, followed by Ishmael, entered the library. 

It was a handsome room, with the walls lined with book-cases; the windowsdraped with crimson curtains; the floor covered with a rich carpet; acheerful fire burning in the grate; and a marble-top table in the centerof the room, at which was placed two crimson velvet arm-chairs occupiedby two gentlemen--namely, Mr. Middleton and Commodore Burghe. Thelatter was a fine, tall, stout jolly old sailor, with a very roundwaist, a very red face, and a very white head, who, as soon as ever hesaw Ishmael enter, got up and held out his broad hand, saying:

"This is the boy, is it? Come here, my brave little lad, and let us takea look at you!"

Ishmael took off his hat, advanced and stood before the commodore. 

"A delicate little slip of a fellow to show such spirit!" said the oldsailor, laying his hand on the flaxen hair of the boy and passing hiseyes down from Ishmael's broad forehead and thin cheeks to his slenderfigure. "Never do for the army or navy, sir! be rejected by both uponaccount of physical incapacity, sir. Eh?" he continued, appealing to Mr. Middleton. 

"The boy is certainly very delicate at present; but that may be thefault of his manner of living; under better regimen he may outgrow hisfragility, " said Mr. Middleton. 

"Yes, yes, so he may; but now as I look at him, I wonder where the deucethe little fellow got his pluck from! Where did you, my little man, eh?"inquired the old sailor, turning bluffly to Ishmael. 

"Indeed I don't know, sir; unless it was from George Washingtonand--" Ishmael was going on to enumerate his model heroes, but thecommodore, who had not stopped to hear the reply, turned to Mr. Middleton again and said:

"One is accustomed to associate great courage with great size, weight, strength, and so forth!" And he drew up his own magnificent form withconscious pride. 

"Indeed, I do not know why we should, then, when all nature and allhistory contradicts the notion! Nature shows us that the lion is braverthan the elephant, and history informs us that all the great generals ofthe world have been little men--"

"And experience teaches us that schoolmasters are pedants!" said the oldman, half vexed, half laughing; "but that is not the question. Thequestion is how are we to reward this brave little fellow?"

"If you please, sir, I do not want any reward, " said Ishmael modestly. 

"Oh, yes, yes, yes; I know all about that! Your friend, Mr. Middleton, has just been telling me some of your antecedents--how you fought mytwo young scapegraces in defense of his fruit baskets. Wish you had beenstrong enough to have given hem a good thrashing. And about your findingthe pocketbook, forbearing to borrow a dollar from it, though sorelytempted by want. And then about your refusing any reward for beingsimply honest. You see I know all about you. So I am not going to offeryou money for risking your life to save my boys. But I am going to giveyou a start in the world, if I can. Come, now, how shall I do it?"

Ishmael hesitated, looked down and blushed. 

"Would you like to go to sea and be a sailor, eh?"

"No, sir, thank you. "

"Like to go for a soldier, eh? You might be a drummerboy, you know. "

"No, thank you, sir. "

"Neither sailor nor soldier; that's queer, too! I thought all ladslonged to be one or the other! Why don't you, eh?"

"I would not like to leave my Aunt Hannah, sir; she has no one but me. "

"What the deuce would you like, then?" testily demanded the old sailor. 

"If you please, sir, nothing; do not trouble yourself. "

"But you saved the life of my boys, you proud little rascal and do yousuppose I am going to let that pass unrepaid?"

"Sir, I am glad the young gentlemen are safe; that is enough for me. "

"But I'll be shot if it is enough for me!"

"Commodore Burghe, sir, will you allow me to suggest something?" saidthe professor, coming forward, hat in hand. 

"And who the deuce are you? Oh, I see! the artist-in-general to thecountry side! Well, what do you suggest?" laughed the old man. 

"If I might be so bold, sir, it would be to send young Ishmael toschool. "

"Send him to school! Ha, ha, ha! ho, ho, ho! why, he'd like that leastof anything else! why, he'd consider that the most ungrateful of allreturns to make for his services! Boys are sent to school forpunishment, not for reward!" laughed the commodore. 

"Young Ishmael wouldn't think it a punishment, sir, " mildly suggestedthe professor. 

"I tell you he wouldn't go, my friend! punishment or no punishment!Why, I can scarcely make my own fellows go! Bosh! I know boys; school istheir bugbear. "

"But, under correction, sir, permit me to say I don't think you knowyoung Ishmael. "

"I know he is a boy; that is enough!"

"But, sir, he is rather an uncommon boy. "

"In that case he has an uncommon aversion to school. "

"Sir, put it to him, whether he would like to go to school. "

"What's the use, when I know he'd rather be hung?"

"But, pray, give him the choice, sir, " respectfully persisted theprofessor. 

"What a solemn, impertinent jackanapes you are, to be sure, Morris! ButI will 'put it to him, ' as you call it! Here, you young fire-eater, comehere to me. "

The boy, who had modestly withdrawn into the background, now cameforward. 

"Stand up before me; hold up your Head; look me in the face! Now, then, answer me truly, and don't be afraid. Would you like to go to school, eh?"

Ishmael did not speak, but the moonlight radiance of his pale beamingface answered for him. 

"Have you no tongue, eh?" bluffly demanded the old sailor. 

"If you please, sir, I should like to go to school more than anything inthe world, if I was rich enough to pay for it. "

"Humph! what do you think of that, Middleton, eh? what do you think ofthat? A boy saying that he would like to go to school! Did you ever hearof such a thing in your life? Is the young rascal humbugging us, do youthink?" said the commodore, turning to his friend. 

"Not in the least, sir; he is perfectly sincere. I am sure of it, fromwhat I have seen of him myself. And look at him, sir! he is a boy oftalent; and if you wish to reward him, you could not do so in a moreeffectual way than by giving him some education, " said Mr. Middleton. 

"But what could a boy of his humble lot do with an education if he hadit?" inquired the commodore. 

"Ah! that I cannot tell, as it would depend greatly upon futurecircumstances; but this we know, that the education he desires cannot dohim any harm, and may do him good. "

"Yes! well, then, to school he shall go. Where shall I send him"inquired the old sailor. 

"Here; I would willingly take him. "

"You! you're joking! Why, you have one of the most select schools in theState. "

"And this boy would soon be an honor to it! In a word, commodore, Iwould offer to take him freely myself, but that I know the independentspirit of the young fellow could not rest under such an obligation. You, however, are his debtor to a larger amount than you can ever repay. Fromyou, therefore, even he cannot refuse to accept an education. "

"But your patrons, my dear sir, may object to the association for theirsons, " said the commodore, in a low voice. 

"Do you object?"

"Not I indeed! I like the little fellow too well. "

"Very well, then, if anyone else objects to their sons keeping companywith Ishmael Worth, they shall be at liberty to do so. "

"Humph! but suppose they remove their sons from the school? what then, eh?" demanded the commodore. 

"They shall be free from any reproach from me. The liberty I claim formyself I also allow others. I interfere with no man's freedom of action, and suffer no man to interfere with mine, " returned Middleton. 

"Quite right! Then it is settled the boy attends the school. Where areyou, you young fire-bravo! you young thunderbolt of war! Come forward, and let us have a word with you!" shouted the commodore. 

Ishmael, who had again retreated behind the shelter of the professor'sstout form, now came forward, cap in hand, and stood blushing before theold sailor. 

"Well, you are to be 'cursed with a granted prayer, ' you young DonQuixote. You are to come here to school, and I am to foot the bills. Youare to come next Monday, which being the first of April andall-fool's-day, I consider an appropriate time for beginning. You are totilt with certain giants, called Grammar, Geography, and History. And ifyou succeed with them, you are to combat certain dragons and griffins, named Virgil, Euclid, and so forth. And if you conquer them, you mayeventually rise above your present humble sphere, and perhaps become aparish clerk or a constable--who knows? Make good use of youropportunities, my lad! Pursue the path of learning, and there is noknowing where it may carry you. 'Big streams from little fountains flow. Great oaks from little acorns grow;' and so forth. Good-by! and Godbless you, my lad, " said the commodore, rising to take his leave. 

Ishmael bowed very low, and attempted to thank his friend, but tearsarose to his eyes, and swelling emotion choked his voice; and before hecould speak, the commodore walked up to Mr. Middleton, and said:

"I hope your favor to this lad will not seriously affect your school;but we will talk further of the matter on some future occasion. I havean engagement this morning. Good-by! Oh, by the way--I had nearlyforgotten: Mervin, and Turner, and the other old boys are coming down tomy place for an oyster roast on Thursday night. I won't ask you if youwill come. I say to you that you must do so; and I will not stop to hearany denial. Good-by!" and the commodore shook Mr. Middleton's hand anddeparted. 

Ishmael stood the very picture of perplexity, until Mr. Middletonaddressed him. 

"Come here, my brave little lad. You are to do as the commodore hasdirected you, and present yourself here on Monday next. Do youunderstand?"

"Yes, sir, I understand very well; but--"

"But--what, my lad? Wouldn't you like to come?"

"Oh, yes, sir! more than anything in the world. I would like it, but--"

"What, my boy?"

"It would be taking something for nothing; and I do not like to do that, sir. "

"You are mistaken, Ishmael. It would be taking what you have a right totake. It would be taking what you have earned a hundred-fold. You riskedyour life to save Commodore Burghe's two sons, and you did save them. "

"Sir, that was only my duty. "

"Then it is equally the commodore's duty to do all that he can for you. And it is also your duty to accept his offers. "

"Do you look at it in that light, sir?"

"Certainly I do. "

"And--do you think John Hancock and Patrick Henry would have looked atit in that light?"

Mr. Middleton laughed. No one could have helped laughing at the solemn, little, pale visage of Ishmael, as he gravely put this question. 

"Why, assuredly, my boy. Every hero and martyr in sacred or profanehistory would view the matter as the commodore and myself do. "

"Oh, then, sir, I am so glad! and indeed, indeed, I will do my very bestto profit by my opportunities, and to show my thankfulness to thecommodore and you, " said Ishmael fervently. 

"Quite right. I am sure you will. And now, my boy, you may retire, " saidMr. Middleton, kindly giving Ishmael his hand. 

Our lad bowed deeply and turned towards the professor, who, with asweeping obeisance to all the literary shelves, left the room. 

"Your everlastin' fortin's made, young Ishmael! You will learn theclassmatics, and all the fine arts; and it depends on yourself alone, whether you do not rise to be a sexton or a clerk!" said the professor, as they went out into the lawn. 

They went around to the smoking ruins of the burnt wing, where all thefield negroes were collected under the superintendence of the overseer, Grainger, and engaged in clearing away the rubbish. 

"I have a hundred and fifty things to do, " said the professor; "but, still, if my assistance is required here it must be given. Do you wantmy help, Mr. Grainger?"

"No, Morris, not until the rubbish is cleared away. Then, I think, weshall want you to put down a temporary covering to keep the cellar fromfilling with rain until the builder comes, " was the reply. 

"Come along, then, young Ishmael; I guess I will not linger here anylonger; and as for going over to Mr. Martindale's, to begin to dig hiswell to-day, it is too late to think of such a thing. So I will justwalk over home with you, to see how Hannah receives your good news, "said the professor, leading the way rapidly down the narrow path throughthe wooded valley. 

When they reached the hut they found Hannah sitting in her chair beforethe fire, crying. 

In a moment Ishmael's thin arm was around her neck and his gentle voicein her ear, inquiring:

"What is the matter?"

"Starvation is the matter, my child! I cannot weave. It hurts my armstoo much. What we are to do for bread I cannot tell! for of course thepoor little dollar a week that you earn is not going to support us, "said Hannah, sobbing. 

Ishmael looked distressed; the professor dismayed. The same thoughtoccurred to both--Hannah unable to work, Ishmael's "poor little dollar aweek" would not support them; but yet neither could it be dispensedwith, since it would be the only thing to keep them both from famine, and since this was the case, Ishmael would be obliged to continue toearn that small stipend, and to do so he must give up all hopes of goingto school--at least for the present, perhaps forever. It was a bitterdisappointment, but when was the boy ever known to hesitate betweenright and wrong? He swallowed his rising tears and kissed his weepingrelative saying:

"Never mind, Aunt Hannah! Don't cry; maybe if I work hard I may be ableto earn more. "

"Yes; times is brisk; I dare say, young Ishmael will be able to bringyou as much as two dollars a week for a while, " chimed in the professor. 

Hannah dropped her coarse handkerchief and lifted her weeping face toask:

"What did they want with you up at the Hall, my dear?"

"The commodore wanted to send me to school, Aunt Hannah; but it don'tmatter, " said Ishmael firmly. 

Hannah sighed. 

And the professor, knowing now that he should have no pleasure in seeingHannah's delight in her nephew's advancement, since the school plan wasnipped in the bud, took up his hat to depart. 

"Well, young Ishmael, I shall start for Mr. Martindale's to-morrow, todig that well. I shall have a plenty for you to do, so you must be at myhouse as usual at six o'clock in the morning, " he said. 

"Professor, I think I will walk with you. I ought to tell Mr. Middletonat once. And I shall have no more time after to-day, " replied the boyrising. 

They went out together and in silence retraced their steps to BrudenellHeights. Both were brooding over Ishmael's defeated hopes and over thatstrange fatality in the lot of the poor that makes them miss greatfortunes for the lack of small means. 

The professor parted with his companion at his own cottage door. ButIshmael, with his hands in his pockets, walked slowly and thoughtfullyon towards Brudenell Heights. 

To have the cup of happiness dashed to the ground the very moment it wasraised to his lips! It was a cruel disappointment. He could not resignhimself to it. All his nature was in arms to resist it. His mind waslaboring with the means to reconcile his duty and his desire. Hisintense longing to go to school, his burning thirst for knowledge, theeagerness of his hungry and restless intellect for food and action, canscarcely be appreciated by less gifted beings. While earnestly searchingfor the way by which he might supply Hannah with the means of living, without sacrificing his hopes of school, he suddenly hit upon a plan. Hequickened his footsteps to put it into instant execution. He arrived atBrudenell Hall and asked to see Mrs. Middleton. A servant took up hispetition and soon returned to conduct him to that lady's presence. Theywent up two flights of stairs, when the man, turning to the left, openeda door, and admitted the boy to the bed-chamber of Mrs. Middleton. 

The lady, wrapped in a dressing gown and shawl, reclined in an arm-chairin the chimney corner. 

"Come here, my dear, " she said, in a sweet voice. And when Ishmael hadadvanced and made his bow, she took his hand kindly and said: "You arethe only visitor whom I would have received to-day, for I have taken avery bad cold from last night's exposure, my dear; but you I could notrefuse. Now sit down in that chair opposite me, and tell me what I cando for you. I hear you are coming to school here; I am glad of it. "

"I was, ma'am; but I do not know that I am", replied the boy. 

"Why, how is that?"

"I hope you won't be displeased with me, ma'am--"

"Certainly not, my boy. What is it that you wish to say?"

"Well, ma'am, my Aunt Hannah cannot weave now, because her wrists arecrippled with rheumatism; and, as she cannot earn any money in that way, I shall be obliged to give up school--unless--" Ishmael hesitated. 

"Unless what, my boy?"

"Unless she can get some work that she can do. She can knit and sew verynicely, and I thought maybe, ma'am--I hope you won't be offended--"

"Certainly not. "

"I thought, then, maybe you might have some sewing or some knitting toput out. "

"Why, Ishmael, I have been looking in vain for a seamstress for the lastthree or four weeks. And I thought I really should have to go to thetrouble and expense of sending to Baltimore or Washington for one; forall our spring and summer sewing is yet to do. I am sure I could keepone woman in fine needlework all the year round. "

"Oh, ma'am, how glad I would be if Aunt Hannah would suit you. "

"I can easily tell that. Does she make your clothes?"

"All of them, ma'am, and her own too. "

"Come here, then, and let me look at her sewing. "

Ishmael went to the lady, who took his arm and carefully examined thestitching of his jacket and shirt sleeve. 

"She sews beautifully. That will do, my boy. Ring that bell for me. "

Ishmael obeyed and a servant answered the summons. 

"Jane, " she said, "hand me that roll of linen from the wardrobe. "

The woman complied, and the mistress put the bundle in the hands ofIshmael, saying:

"Here, my boy: here are a dozen shirts already cut out, with the sewingcotton, buttons, and so forth rolled up in them. Take them to your aunt. Ask her if she can do them, and tell her that I pay a dollar apiece. "

"Oh! thank you, thank you, ma'am! I know Aunt Hannah will do them verynicely!" exclaimed the boy in delight, as he made his bow and his exit. 

He ran home, leaping and jumping as he went. 

He rushed into the hut and threw the bundle on the table, exclaiminggleefully:

"There, Aunt Hannah! I have done it!"

"Done what, you crazy fellow?" cried Hannah, looking up from the fryingpan in which she was turning savory rashers of bacon for their secondmeal. 

"I have got you--'an engagement, ' as the professor calls a big lot ofwork to do. I've got it for you, aunt; and I begin to think a body mayget any reasonable thing in this world if they will only try hard enoughfor it!" exclaimed Ishmael. 

Hannah sat down her frying pan and approached the table, saying:

"Will you try to be sensible now, Ishmael; and tell me where this bundleof linen came from?"

Ishmael grew sober in an instant, and made a very clear statement of hisafternoon's errand, and its success, ending as he had begun, by saying:"I do believe in my soul, Aunt Hannah, that anybody can get anyreasonable thing in the world they want, if they only try hard enoughfor it! And now, dear Aunt Hannah, I would not be so selfish as to go toschool and leave all the burden of getting a living upon your shoulders, if I did not know that it would be better even for you by-and-by! For ifI go to school and get some little education, I shall be able to work atsomething better than odd jobbing. The professor and Mr. Middleton, andeven the commodore himself, thinks that if I persevere, I may come to becounty constable, or parish clerk, or schoolmaster, or something of thatsort; and if I do, you know, Aunt Hannah, we can live in a house withthree or four rooms, and I can keep you in splendor! So you won't thinkyour boy selfish in wanting to go to school, will you, Aunt Hannah?"

"No, my darling, no. I love you dearly, my Ishmael. Only my temper istried when you run your precious head into the fire, as you did lastnight. "

"But, Aunt Hannah, Israel Putnam, or Francis--"

"Now, now, Ishmael--don't, dear, don't! If you did but know how I hatethe sound of those old dead and gone men's names, you wouldn't beforeverlasting dinging of them into my ears!" said Hannah nervously. 

"Well, Aunt Hannah--I'll try to remember not to name them to you again. But for all that I must follow where they lead me!" said this youngaspirant and unconscious prophet. For I have elsewhere said, what I nowwith emphasis repeat, that "aspirations are prophecies, " which itrequires only faith to fulfill. 

Hannah made no reply. She was busy setting the table for the supper, which the aunt and nephew presently enjoyed with the appreciation onlyto be felt by those who seldom sit down to a satisfactory meal. 

When it was over, and the table was cleared, Hannah, who never losttime, took the bundle of linen, unrolled it, sat down, and commencedsewing. 

Ishmael with his book of heroes sat opposite to her. 

The plain deal table, scrubbed white as cream, stood between them, lighted by one tallow candle. 

"Aunt Hannah, " said the boy, as he watched her arranging her work, "isthat easier than weaving?"

"Very much easier, Ishmael. "

"And is it as profitable to you?"

"About twice as profitable, my dear; so, if the lady really can keep mein work all the year round, there will be no need of your poor littlewages, earned by your hard labor, " answered Hannah. 

"Oh, I didn't think it hard at all, you see, because Israel Put--I begyour pardon, Aunt Hannah--I won't forget again, " said the boy, correcting himself in time, and returning to the silent reading of hisbook. 

Some time after he closed his book, and looked up. 

"Aunt Hannah!"

"Well, Ishmael?"

"You often talk to me of my dear mother in heaven, but never of myfather. Who was my father, Aunt Hannah?"

For all answer Hannah arose and boxed his ears. 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

ISHMAEL AND CLAUDIA. 

 I saw two children intertwine Their arms about each other, Like the lithe tendrils of the vine Around its nearest brother; And ever and anon, As gayly they ran on, Each looked into the other's face, Anticipating an embrace. 

 --_Richard Monckton Milnes_. 

Punctually at nine o'clock on Monday morning Ishmael Worth renderedhimself at Brudenell Hall. Mr. Middleton's school was just such a one ascan seldom, if ever, be met with out of the Southern States. Mr. Middleton had been a professor of languages in one of the Southernuniversities; and by his salary had supported and educated a largefamily of sons and daughters until the death of a distant relativeenriched him with the inheritance of a large funded property. 

He immediately resigned his position in the university, and--as he didnot wish to commit himself hastily to a fixed abode in any particularneighborhood by the purchase of an estate--he leased the wholeready-made establishment at Brudenell Hall, all furnished and officeredas it was. There he conveyed his wife and ten children--that is, fivegirls and five boys, ranging from the age of one year up to fifteenyears of age. Added to these was the motherless daughter of hisdeceased sister, Beatrice Merlin, who had been the wife of thechief-justice of the Supreme Court of the State. 

Claudia Merlin had been confided to the care of her uncle and aunt inpreference to being sent to a boarding school during her father'sabsence on official duty at the capital. 

Mr. And Mrs. Middleton had found, on coming to Brudenell Hall, thatthere was no proper school in the neighborhood to which they could sendtheir sons and daughters. They had besides a strong prejudice in favorof educating their children under their own eyes. Mr. Middleton, in hiscapacity of professor, had seen too much of the temptations of collegelife to be willing to trust his boys too early to its dangers. And asfor sending the girls away from home, Mrs. Middleton would not hear ofit for an instant. 

After grappling with the difficulty for a while, they conquered it byconcluding to engage a graduate of the university as tutor, to groundyoung people in what are called the fundamental parts of an Englisheducation, together with the classics and mathematics; and also toemploy an accomplished lady to instruct them in music and drawing. Thisschool was always under the immediate supervision of the master andmistress of the house. One or the other was almost always present in theschoolroom. And even if this had not been so, the strictest proprietymust have been preserved; for the governess was a discreet woman, nearlyfifty years of age; and the tutor, though but twenty-five, was thegravest of all grave young men. 

The classroom was arranged in a spare back parlor on the first floor--aspacious apartment whose windows looked out upon the near shrubberiesand the distant woods. Here on the right hand were seated the five boysunder their tutor; and on the left were gathered the girls under theirgoverness. But when a class was called up for recitation, before thetutor, boys and girls engaged in the same studies, and in the same stageof progress stood up together, that their minds might be stimulated bymutual emulation. 

Often Mrs. Middleton occupied a seat in an arm-chair near one of thepleasant windows overlooking the shrubberies, and employed herself withsome fine needlework while superintending the school. Sometimes, also, Mr. Middleton came in with his book or paper, and occasionally, fromforce of habit, he would take a classbook and hear a recitation. It wasto keep his hand in, he said, lest some unexpected turn of the wheel offortune should send him back to his old profession again. 

Thus, this was in all respects a family school. 

But when the neighbors became acquainted with its admirable working, they begged as a favor the privilege of sending their children as daypupils; and Mr. Middleton, in his cordial kindness, agreed to receivethe new pupils; but only on condition that their tuition fees should bepaid to augment the salaries of the tutor and the governess, as he--Mr. Middleton--did not wish, and would not receive, a profit from theschool. 

Among the newcomers were the sons of Commodore Burghe. Like the othernew pupils, they were only day scholars. For bad conduct they had oncebeen warned away from the school; but had been pardoned and receivedback at the earnest entreaty of their father. 

Their presence at Brudenell Hall on the nearly fatal night of the firehad been accidental. The night had been stormy, and Mrs. Middleton hadinsisted upon their remaining. 

These boys were now regular attendants at the school, and their mannersand morals were perceptibly improving. They now sat with the Middletonboys and shared their studies. 

Into this pleasant family schoolroom, on the first Monday in April, young Ishmael Worth was introduced. His own heroic conduct had won him aplace in the most select and exclusive little school in the State. 

Ishmael was now thirteen years of age, a tall, slender boy, with a broadfull forehead, large prominent blue eyes, a straight well-shaped nose, full, sweet, smiling lips, thin, wasted-looking cheeks, a round chin andfair complexion. His hands and feet were small and symmetrical, butroughened with hard usage. He was perfectly clean and neat in hisappearance. His thin, pale face was as delicately fair as any lady's;his flaxen hair was parted at the left side and brushed away from hisbig forehead; his coarse linen was as white as snow, and his coarserhomespun blue cloth jacket and trousers were spotless; his shoes werealso clean. 

Altogether, Nora's son was a pleasing lad to look upon as he stoodsmilingly but modestly, hat in hand, at the schoolroom door, to which hehad been brought by Jovial. 

The pupils were all assembled--the boys gathered around their tutor, onthe right; the girls hovering about their governess on the left. 

Mr. And Mrs. Middleton were both present, sitting near a pleasant windowthat the mild spring morning had invited them to open. They were bothexpecting Ishmael, and both arose to meet him. 

Mrs. Middleton silently shook his hand. 

Mr. Middleton presented him to the school, saying:

"Young gentlemen, this is your new companion, Master Ishmael Worth, asworthy a youth as it has ever been my pleasure to know. I hope you willall make him welcome among you. "

There was an instant and mysterious putting together of heads andbuzzing of voices among the pupils. 

"Walter, come here, " said Mr. Middleton. 

A youth of about fifteen years of age arose and approached. 

"Ishmael, this is my eldest son, Walter. I hope you two may be goodfriends. Walter, take Ishmael to a seat beside you; and when therecreation hour comes, make him well acquainted with your companions. Mind, Walter, I commit him to your charge. "

Walter Middleton smiled, shook hands with Ishmael, and led him away toshare his own double desk. 

Mr. Middleton then called the school to order and opened the exerciseswith the reading of the Scripture and prayer. 

This over, he came to Ishmael and laid an elementary geography beforehim, with the first lesson marked out on it, saying:

"There, my lad; commit this to memory as soon as you can, and then takeyour book up for recitation to Mr. Green. He will hear you singly forsome time until you overtake the first class, which I am sure you willdo very soon; it will depend upon yourself how soon. "

And with these kind words Mr. Middleton left the room. 

How happy was Ishmael! The schoolroom seemed an elysium! It is true thatthis was no ordinary schoolroom; but one of the pleasantest places ofthe kind to be imagined; and very different from the small, dark, poorhut. Ishmael was delighted with its snow-white walls, its polished oakfloor, its clear open windows with their outlook upon the blue sky andthe green trees and variegated shrubs. He was pleased with his shiningmahogany desk, with neat little compartments for slate, books, pen, pencils, ink, etc. He was in love with his new book with its gaylycolored maps and pictures and the wonders revealed to him in itslessons. He soon left off reveling in the sights and sounds of thecheerful schoolroom to devote himself to his book. To him study was nota task, it was an all-absorbing rapture. His thirsty intellect drank upthe knowledge in that book as eagerly as ever parched lips quaffed coldwater. He soon mastered the first easy lesson, and would have gone upimmediately for recitation, only that Mr. Green was engaged with aclass. But Ishmael could not stop; he went on to the second lesson andthen to the third, and had committed the three to memory before Mr. Green was disengaged. Then he went up to recite. At the end of the firstlesson Mr. Green praised his accuracy and began to mark the second. 

"If you please, sir, I have got that into my head, and also the thirdone, " said Ishmael, interrupting him. 

"What! do you mean to say that you have committed three of these lessonsto memory?" inquired the surprised tutor. 

"Yes, sir, while I was waiting for you to be at leisure. "

"Extraordinary! Well, I will see if you can recite them, " said Mr. Green, opening the book. 

Ishmael was perfect in his recitation. 

All schoolmasters delight in quick and intelligent pupils; but Mr. Greenespecially did so; for he had a true vocation for his profession. Hesmiled radiantly upon Ishmael as he asked:

"Do you think, now, you can take three of these ordinary lessons for oneevery day?"

"Oh, yes, sir; if it would not be too much trouble for you to hear me, "answered our boy. 

"It will be a real pleasure; I shall feel an interest in seeing how fasta bright and willing lad like yourself can get on. Now, then, put awayyour geography, and bring me the Universal History that you will find inyour desk. "

In joy, Ishmael went back to his seat, lifted the lid of his desk, andfound in the inside a row of books, a large slate, a copy-book, pens, ink, and pencils, all neatly arranged. 

"Am I to use these?" he inquired of Walter Middleton. 

"Oh, yes; they are all yours; my mother put them all in there for youthis morning. You will find your name written on every one of them, "replied the youth. 

What treasures Ishmael had! He could scarcely believe in his wealth andhappiness! He selected the Universal History and took it up to thetutor, who, in consideration of his pupil's capacity and desire, set hima very long lesson. 

In an hour Ishmael had mastered this task also, and taken it up to histeacher. 

His third book that morning was Murray's English Grammar. 

"I do not think I shall set you a lesson of more than the ordinarylength this time, Ishmael. I cannot allow you to devour grammar in suchlarge quantities as you have taken of geography and history at a meal. For, grammar requires to be digested as well as swallowed; in otherwords, it needs to be understood as well as remembered, " said Mr. Green, as he marked the lesson for his pupil. 

Ishmael smiled as he went back to his seat. 

To ordinary boys the study of grammar is very dry work. Not so toIshmael. For his rare, fine, intellectual mind the analysis of languagehad a strange fascination. He soon conquered the difficulties of hisinitiatory lesson in this science, and recited it to the perfectsatisfaction of his teacher. 

And then the morning's lessons were all over. 

This had been a forenoon of varied pleasures to Ishmael. The gates ofthe Temple of Knowledge had been thrown open to him. All three of hisstudies had charmed him: the marvelous description of the earth'ssurface, the wonderful history of the human race, the curious analysisof language--each had in its turn delighted him. And now came therecreation hour to refresh him. 

The girls all went to walk on the lawn in front of the house. 

The boys all went into the shrubberies in the rear; and the day pupilsbegan to open their dinner baskets. 

Ishmael took a piece of bread from his pocket. That was to be hisdinner. 

But presently a servant came out of the house and spoke to WalterMiddleton; and Walter called our boy, saying:

"Come, Ishmael; my father has sent for you. "

Ishmael put his piece of bread in his pocket and accompanied the youthinto the house and to the dining-room, where a plain, substantial dinnerof roast mutton, vegetables, and pudding was provided for the childrenof the family. 

"You are to dine with my children every day, Ishmael, " said Mr. Middleton, in those tones of calm authority that admitted of no appealfrom their decision. 

Ishmael took the chair that was pointed out to him, and you may be surehe did full justice to the nourishing food placed before him. 

When dinner was over the boys had another hour's recreation in thegrounds, and then they returned to the schoolroom for afternoonexercises. These were very properly of a lighter nature than those ofthe morning--being only penmanship, elocution, and drawing. 

At six o'clock the school was dismissed. And Ishmael went home, enchanted with his new life, but wondering where little Claudia couldbe; he had not seen her that day. And thus ended his first day atschool. 

When he reached the hut Hannah had supper on the table. 

"Well, Ishmael, how did you get on?" she asked. 

"Oh, Aunt Hannah, I have had such, a happy day!" exclaimed the boy. Andthereupon he commenced and poured upon her in a torrent of words adescription of the schoolroom, the teachers, the studies, the dinner, the recreations, and, in short, the history of his whole day'sexperiences. 

"And so you are charmed?" said Hannah. 

"Oh, aunt, so much!" smiled the boy. 

"Hope it may last, that's all! for I never yet saw the lad that likedschool after the first novelty wore off, " observed the woman. 

The next morning Ishmael awoke with the dawn, and sprang from his palletin the loft as a lark from its nest in the tree. 

He hurried downstairs to help Hannah with the morning work before heshould prepare for school. 

He cut wood, and brought water enough to last through the day, and thenate his frugal breakfast, and set off for school. 

He arrived there early--almost too early, for none of the day pupils hadcome, and there was no one in the schoolroom but the young Middletonsand Claudia Merlin. 

She was sitting in her seat, with her desk open before her, and herblack ringletted head half buried in it. But as soon she heard the dooropen she glanced up, and seeing Ishmael, shut down the desk and flew tomeet him. 

"I am so glad you come to school, Ishmael! I wasn't here yesterday, because I had a cold; but I knew you were! And oh! how nice you do look. Indeed, if I did not know better, I should take you to be the younggentleman, and those Burghes to be workman's sons!" she said, as sheheld his hand, and looked approvingly upon his smooth, light hair, hisfair, broad forehead, clear, blue eyes, and delicate features; and uponhis erect figure and neat dress. 

"Thank you, miss, " answered Ishmael, with boyish embarrassment. 

"Come here, Bee, and look at him, " said Miss Merlin, addressing someunknown little party, who did not at once obey the behest. 

With a reddening cheek, Ishmael gently essayed to pass to his seat; butthe imperious little lady held fast his hand, as, with a more peremptorytone, she said:

"Stop! I want Bee to see you! Come here, Bee, this instant, and look atIshmael!"

This time a little golden-haired, fair-faced girl came from the group ofchildren collected at the window, and stood before Claudia. 

"There, now, Bee, look at the new pupil! Does he look like a commonboy--a poor laborer's son?"

The little girl addressed as Bee was evidently afraid to disobey Claudiaand ashamed to obey her. She therefore stood in embarrassment. 

"Look at him, can't you? he won't bite you!" said Miss Claudia. 

Ishmael felt reassured by the very shyness of the little newacquaintance that was being forced upon him, and he said, very gently:

"I will not frighten you, little girl; I am not a rude boy. "

"I know you will not; it is not that, " murmured the little maiden, encouraged by the sweet voice, and stealing a glance at the gentle, intellectual countenance of our lad. 

"There, now, does he look like a laborer's son?" inquired Claudia. 

"No, " murmured Bee. 

"But he is, for all that! He is the son of--of--I forget; but somerelation of Hannah Worth, the weaver. Who was your father, Ishmael? Inever heard--or if I did I have forgotten. Who was he?"

Ishmael's face grew crimson. Yet he could not have told, because he didnot know, why this question caused his brow to burn as though it hadbeen smitten by a red-hot iron. 

"Who was your father, I ask you, Ishmael?" persisted the imperiouslittle girl. 

"I do not remember my father, Miss Claudia, " answered the boy, in a low, half-stifled voice. 

"And now you have hurt his feelings, Claudia; let him alone, " whisperedthe fair child, in a low voice, as the tears of a vague but deepsympathy, felt but not understood, arose to her eyes. 

Before another word could be said Mrs. Middleton entered the room. 

"Ah, Bee, so your are making acquaintance with your new schoolmate! Thisis my oldest daughter, Miss Beatrice, Ishmael. We call her Bee, becauseit is the abbreviation of Beatrice, and because she is such a busy, helpful little lady, " she said, as she shook hands with the boy andpatted the little girl on the head. 

The entrance of the teachers and the day pupils broke up this littlegroup; the children took their seats and the school was opened, asbefore, with prayer. This morning the tutor led the exercises. Mr. Middleton was absent on business. This day passed much as the previousone, except that at its close there was Claudia to shake hands withIshmael; to tell him that he was a bright, intelligent boy, and that shewas proud of him; and all with the air of a princess rewarding somedeserving peasant. 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

YOUNG LOVE. 

 Have you been out some starry night, And found it joy to bend Your eyes to one particular light Till it became a friend? And then so loved that glistening spot, That whether it were far, Or more, or less, it mattered not-- It still was your own star? Thus, and thus only, can you know How I, even lowly I, Can live in love, though set so low, And my lady-love no high!

 --_Richard Monckton Milnes_. 

Ishmael's improvement was marked and rapid; both as to his bodily andmental growth and progress. His happiness in his studies; his regularmorning and evening walks to and from school; his abundant andnutritious noontide meals with the young Middletons; even hiswood-cutting at the hut; his whole manner of life, in fact, had tendedto promote the best development of his physical organization. He grewtaller, stronger, and broader-shouldered; he held himself erect, andhis pale complexion cleared and became fair. He no longer ate with acanine rapacity; his appetite was moderate, and his habits temperate, because his body was well nourished and his health was sound. 

His mental progress was quite equal to his bodily growth. He quicklymastered the elementary branches of education, and was initiated intothe rudiments of Latin, Greek, and mathematics. He soon overtook the twoBurghes and was placed in the same class with them and with John andJames Middleton--Mr. Middleton's second and third sons. When he enteredthe class, of course he was placed at the foot; but he first got aboveBen Burghe, and then above Alfred Burghe, and he was evidently resolvedto remain above them, and to watch for an opportunity for getting aboveJames and John Middleton, who were equally resolved that no suchopportunity should be afforded him. This was a generous emulationencouraged by Mr. Middleton, who was accustomed to say, laughingly, tohis boys:

"Take care, my sons! You know Ishmael is a dead shot! Let him once bringyou down, and you will never get up again!"

And to Ishmael:

"Persevere, my lad! Some fine day you will catch them tripping, and takea step higher in the class. " And he declared to Mrs. Middleton that hisown sons had never progressed so rapidly in their studies as now thatthey had found in Ishmael Worth a worthy competitor to spur them on. Upon that very account, he said, the boy was invaluable in the school. 

Well, John and James had all Ishmael's industry and ambition, but theyhad not his genius! consequently they were soon distanced in the race byour boy. Ishmael got above James, and kept his place; then he got aboveJohn, at the head of the class, and kept that place also; and finally hegot so far ahead of all his classmates that, not to retard his progress, Mr. Middleton felt obliged to advance him a step higher and place himbeside Walter who, up to this time, had stood alone, unapproached andunapproachable, at the head of the school. 

John and James, being generous rivals, saw this well-merited advancementwithout "envy, hatred or malice"; but to Alfred ind Benjamin Burghe itwas as gall and wormwood. 

Walter was, of course, as yet much in advance of Ishmael; but, inplacing the boys together, Mr. Middleton had said:

"Now, Walter, you are about to be put upon your very best mettle. Ishmael will certainly overtake you, and if you are not very careful hewill soon surpass you. "

The noble boy laughed as he replied:

"After what I have seen of Ishmael for the last two or three years, father, I dare not make any promises! I think I am a fair match for mostyouths of my age; and I should not mind competing with industry alone, or talent alone, or with a moderate amount of both united in one boy;but, really, when it comes to competing with invincible genius combinedwith indomitable perseverence, I do not enter into the contest with anyvery sanguine hopes of success. "

The youth's previsions proved true. Before the year was out Ishmaelstood by his side, his equal, and bidding fair to become his superior. 

Mr. Middleton had too much magnanimity to feel any little paternaljealousy on this account. He knew that his own son was highly gifted inmoral and intellectual endowments, and he was satisfied; and if IshmaelWorth was even his son's superior in these respects, the generous manonly rejoiced the more in contemplating the higher excellence. 

Commodore Burghe was also proud of his protégé. He was not very wellpleased that his own sons were eclipsed by the brighter talents of thepeasant boy; but he only shrugged his shoulders as he said:

"You know the Bible says that 'gifts are divers, ' my friend. Well, mytwo boys will never be brilliant scholars, that is certain; but I hope, for that very reason, Alf may make the braver soldier and Ben the boldersailor. " And having laid this flattering unction to his soul, the oldman felt no malice against our boy for outshining his own sons. 

Not so the Burghe boys themselves. Their natures were essentially low;and this low nature betrayed itself in their very faces, forms, andmanners. They were short and thickset, with bull necks, bullet heads, shocks of thick black hair, low foreheads, large mouths, darkcomplexions, and sullen expressions. They were very much alike in personand in character. The only difference being that Alf was the bigger andthe wickeder and Ben the smaller and the weaker. 

Against Ishmael they had many grudges, the least of which was causeenough with them for lifelong malice. First, on that memorable occasionof the robbed carriage, he had exposed their theft and their falsehood. Secondly, he had had the good luck to save their lives and wineverlasting renown for the brave act; and this, to churlish, thankless, and insolent natures like theirs, was the greater offense of the two;and now he had had the unpardonable impudence to eclipse them in theschool. He! the object of their father's bounty, as they called him. They lost no opportunity of sneering at him whenever they dared to doso. 

Ishmael Worth could very well afford to practice forbearance towardsthese ill-conditioned lads. He was no longer the poor, sickly, andself-doubting child he had been but a year previous. Though stilldelicate as to his physique, it was with an elegant, refined rather thana feeble and sickly delicacy. He grew very much like his father, who wasone of the handsomest men of his day; but it was from his mother that hederived his sweet voice and his beautiful peculiarity of smiling onlywith his eyes. His school-life had, besides, taught him more than booklearning; it had taught him self-knowledge. He had been forced tomeasure himself with others, and find out his relative moral andintellectual standing. His success at school, and the appreciation hereceived from others, had endowed him with a self-respect and confidenceeasily noticeable in the modest dignity and grace of his air and manner. In these respects also his deportment formed a favorable contrast to theshame-faced, half-sullen, and half-defiant behavior of the Burghes. These boys were the only enemies Ishmael possessed in the school; hissweetness of spirit had, on the contrary, made him many friends. He wasever ready to do any kindness to anyone; to give up his own pleasure forthe convenience of others; to help forward a backward pupil, or toenlighten a dull one. This goodness gained him grateful partisans amongthe boys; but he had, also, disinterested ones among the girls. 

Claudia and Beatrice were his self-constituted little lady-patronesses. 

The Burghes did not dare to sneer at Ishmael's humble position in theirpresence. For, upon the very first occasion that Alfred had ventured asarcasm at the expense of Ishmael in her hearing, Claudia had so shamedhim for insulting a youth to whose bravery he was indebted for his life, that even Master Alfred had had the grace to blush, and ever afterwardhad avoided exposing himself to a similar scorching. 

In this little world of the schoolroom there was a little unconsciousdrama beginning to be performed. 

I said that Claudia and Beatrice had constituted themselves the littlelady-patronesses of the poor boy. But there was a difference in theirmanner towards their protégé. 

The dark-eyed, dark-haired, imperious young heiress patronized him in aright royal manner, trotting him out, as it were, for the inspection ofher friends, and calling their attention to his merits--so surprising ina boy of his station; very much, I say, as she would have exhibited theaccomplishments of her dog, Fido, so wonderful in a brute! very much, ah! as duchesses patronize promising young poets. 

This was at times so humiliating to Ishmael that his self-respect musthave suffered terribly, fatally, but for Beatrice. 

The fair-haired, blue-eyed, and gentle Bee had a much finer, moredelicate, sensitive, and susceptible nature than her cousin; sheunderstood Ishmael better, and sympathized with him more than Claudiacould. She loved and respected him as an elder brother, and indeed morethan she did her elder brothers; for he was much superior to both inphysical, moral, and intellectual beauty. Bee felt all this so deeplythat she honored in Ishmael her ideal of what a boy ought to be, andwhat she wished her brothers to become. 

In a word, the child-woman had already set up an idol in her heart, anidol never, never, in all the changes and chances of this world, to bethrown from its altar. Already she unconsciously identified herself withhis successes. He was now the classmate, equal, and competitor of hereldest brother; yet in the literary and scholastic rivalship andstruggle between the two, it was not for Walter, but for Ishmael thatshe secretly trembled; and in their alternate triumphs and defeats, itwas not with Walter, but Ishmael, that she sorrowed or rejoiced. 

Bee was her mother's right hand woman in all household affairs; shewould have been the favorite, if Mrs. Middleton's strict sense ofjustice had permitted her to have one among the children. It was Bee whowas always by her mother's side in the early morning, helping her toprepare the light, nutritious puddings for dinner. 

On these occasions Bee would often beg for some special kind of tart orpie, not for the gratification of her own appetite, but because she hadnoticed that Ishmael liked that dish. So early she became his littlehousehold guardian. 

And Ishmael? He was now nearly sixteen years old, and thoughtful beyondhis years. Was he grateful for this little creature's earnest affection?Very grateful he was indeed! He had no sister; but as the dearest of alldear sisters he loved this little woman of twelve summers. 

But she was not his idol! Oh, no! The star of his boyish worship wasClaudia! Whether it was from youthful perversity, or from priorassociation, or, as is most likely, by the attraction of antagonism, thefair, gentle, intellectual peasant boy adored the dark, fiery, imperiousyoung patrician who loved, petted, and patronized him only as if he hadbeen a wonderfully learned pig or very accomplished parrot! Bee knewthis; but the pure love of her sweet spirit was incapable of jealousy, and when she saw that Ishmael loved Claudia best, she herself saw reasonin that for esteeming her cousin higher than she had ever done before!If Ishmael loved Claudia so much, then Claudia must be more worthy thanever she had supposed her to be! Such was the reasoning of Beatrice. 

Did Mr. And Mrs. Middleton observe this little domestic drama?

Yes; but they attached no importance to it. They considered it all theharmless, shallow, transient friendships of childhood. They had lefttheir own youth so far behind that they forgot what seriousmatters--sometimes affecting the happiness of many years, sometimesdeciding the destiny of a life--are commenced in the schoolroom. 

Ishmael was felt to be perfectly trustworthy; therefore he was allowedthe privilege of free association with these little girls--an honor notaccorded to other day pupils. 

This "unjust partiality, " as they called the well-merited confidencebestowed upon our boy, greatly incensed the Burghes, and increased theirenmity against Ishmael. 

Master Alfred, who was now a very forward youth of eighteen, fanciedhimself to be smitten with the charms of the little beauty of fifteen. Whether he really was so or not it is impossible to say; but it isextremely probable that he was more alive to the fortune of the heiressthan to the beauty of the girl. Avarice is not exclusively the passionof the aged, nor is it a whit less powerful than the passion of love. Thus young Alfred Burghe was as jealous of Ishmael's approach toClaudia, as if he--Alfred--had loved the girl instead of coveting herwealth. Early, very early, marriages were customary in thatneighborhood; so that there was nothing very extravagant in the dream ofthat fast young gentleman, that in another year--namely, when he shouldbe nineteen and she sixteen--he might marry the heiress, and revel inher riches. But how was he to marry her if he could not court her? Andhow was he to court her if he was never permitted to associate with her?He was forbidden to approach her, while "that cur of a weaver boy" wasfreely admitted to her society! He did not reflect that the "weaver boy"had earned his own position; had established a character for truth, honesty, fidelity; was pure in spirit, word, and deed, and so was fitcompany for the young. But Alfred was quite incapable of appreciatingall this; he thought the preference shown to Ishmael unjust, indecent, outrageous, and he resolved to be revenged upon his rival, by exposing, taunting, and humiliating him in the presence of Claudia, the very firsttime chance should throw them all three together. 

Satan, who always assists his own, soon sent the opportunity. 

It was near the first of August; there was to be an examination, exhibition, and distribution of prizes at the school. And the parentsand friends of the pupils were invited to attend. 

Walter Middleton and Ishmael Worth were at the head of the school andwould compete for the first prizes with equal chance of success. Thehighest prize--a gold watch--was to be awarded to the best written Greekthesis. Walter and Ishmael were both ordered to write for this prize, and for weeks previous to the examination all their leisure time wasbestowed upon this work. The day before the examination each completedhis own composition. And then, like good, confidential, unenvyingfriends as they were, they exchanged papers and gave each other a sightof their work. When each had read and returned his rival's thesis, Walter said with a sigh:

"It will be just as I foreboded, Ishmael. I said you would take theprize, and now I know it. "

Ishmael paused some time before he answered calmly:

"No, Walter, I will not take it. "

"Not take it! nonsense! if you do not take it, it will be because theexaminers do not know their business! Why, Ishmael, there can be noquestion as to the relative merits of your composition and mine! Minewill not bear an instant's comparison with yours. "

"Your thesis is perfectly correct; there is not a mistake in it, " saidIshmael encouragingly. 

"Oh, yes, it is correct enough; but yours, Ishmael, is not only that, but more! for it is strong, logical, eloquent! Now I can be accurateenough, for that matter; but I cannot be anything more! I cannot bestrong, logical, or eloquent in my own native and living language, muchless in a foreign and a dead one! So, Ishmael, you will gain the prize. "

"I am quite sure that I shall not, " replied our boy. 

"Then it will be because our examiners will know no more of Greek than Ido, and not so much as yourself! And as that cannot possibly be thecase, they must award you the prize, my boy. And you shall be welcome toit for me! I have done my duty in doing the very best I could; and ifyou excel me by doing better still, Heaven forbid that I should be sobase as to grudge you the reward you have so well earned. So God blessyou, old boy, " said Walter, as he parted from his friend. 

CHAPTER XXX. 

ISHMAEL AND CLAUDIA. 

 And both were young--yet not alike in youth; As the sweet moon upon the horizon's verge, The maid was on the eve of womanhood; The boy had no more summers; but his heart Had far out-grown his years, and to his eye There was but one beloved face on earth, And that was shining on him. 

 --_Byron_. 

The first of August, the decisive day, arrived. It was to be a fête dayfor the whole neighborhood--that quiet neighbourhood, where fêtes, indeed, were so unusual as to make a great sensation when they didoccur. There was to be the examination in the forenoon, followed by thedistribution of prizes in the afternoon, and a dance in the evening. "The public" were invited to attend in the morning and afternoon, andthe parents, friends, and guardians of the pupils were invited to remainfor the dinner and ball in the evening. All the young people were on thequi vive for this festival; and their elders were not much less excited. 

Everywhere they were preparing dresses as well as lessons. 

Poor Hannah Worth, whose circumstances were much improved since she hadbeen seamstress in general to Mrs. Middleton's large family, hadstrained every nerve to procure for Ishmael a genteel suit of clothesfor this occasion. And she had succeeded. And this summer morning sawIshmael arrayed, for the first time in his life, in a neat, well-fittingdress suit of light gray cassimere, made by the Baymouth tailor. Hannahwas proud of her nephew, and Ishmael was pleased with himself. He wasindeed a handsome youth, as he stood smiling there for the inspection ofhis aunt. Every vestige of ill health had left him, but left him with adelicacy, refinement, and elegance in his person, manners, and speechvery rare in any youth, rarer still in youth of his humble grade. Butall this was of the soul. 

"You will do, Ishmael--you will do very well indeed!" said Hannah, asshe drew the boy to her bosom and kissed him with blended feelings ofaffection, admiration, and remorse. Yes, remorse; for Hannah rememberedhow often, in his feeble infancy, she had wished him dead, and had beenimpatient for his death. 

"I hope you will do yourself credit to-day, Ishmael, " she said, as shereleased him from her embrace. 

"I shall try to do you credit, Aunt Hannah, " replied the smiling youth, as he set off gayly for the fête at the school. 

It was a splendid morning, but promised to be a sultry day. 

When he reached Brudenell Hall he found the young ladies and gentlemenof the school, about twenty in all, assembled on the front lawn beforethe house. The young gentlemen in their holiday suits were saunteringlazily about among the parterres and shrubberies. The young ladies intheir white muslin dresses and pink sashes were grouped under the shadeof that grove of flowering locusts that stood near the house--the samegrove that had sheltered some of them on the night of the fire. 

As Ishmael came up the flagged walk leading to the house Claudia saw himand called out:

"Come here, Ishmael, and let us look at you!"

The youth, blushing with the consciousness of his new clothes, and thecriticisms they would be sure to provoke from his honored butexasperating little patroness, advanced to the group of white-robedgirls. 

Claudia, with her glittering black ringlets, her rich crimson bloom, andglorious dark eyes, was brilliantly beautiful, and at fifteen lookedquite a young woman, while Ishmael at sixteen seemed still a boy. 

Her manner, too, was that of a young lady towards a mere lad. 

She took him by the hand, and looked at him from head to foot, andturned him around; and then, with a triumphant smile, appealed to hercompanions, exclaiming:

"Look at him now! Isn't he really elegant in his new clothes? Light graybecomes him--his complexion is so fair and clear! There isn't anotherboy in the neighborhood that wouldn't look as yellow as a dandelion ingray! Isn't he handsome, now?"

This was a very severe ordeal for Ishmael. The young ladies had allgathered around Claudia, and were examining her favourite. Ishmael felthis face burn until it seemed as if the very tips of his ears would takefire. 

"Isn't he handsome, now, Bee?" pursued the relentless Claudia, appealingto her cousin. 

Beatrice was blushing in intense sympathy with the blushing youth. 

"I say, isn't he handsome, Bee?" persevered the implacable critic, turning him around for her cousin's closer inspection. 

"Yes! he is a very handsome dog! I wonder you do not get a collar andchain for him, for fear he should run away, or someone should steal himfrom you, Claudia!" suddenly exclaimed the distressed girl, burstinginto indignant tears. 

"Consternation! what is the matter now?" inquired the heiress, droppingher victim, from whom general attention was now diverted. 

"What is the matter, Bee? what is the matter?" inquired all the youngladies, gathering around the excited girl. 

Beatrice could only sob forth the words:

"Nothing, only Claudia vexes me. "

"Jealous little imp!" laughed Miss Merlin. 

"I am not jealous, I am only vexed, " sobbed Beatrice. 

"What at? what at?" was the general question. 

But Beatrice only answered by tears and sobs. This gentlest of allgentle creatures was in a passion! It was unprecedented; it waswonderful and alarming!

"I should really like to know what is the matter with you, you foolishchild! Why are you so angry with me? It is very unkind!" said MissMerlin, feeling, she knew not why, a little ashamed. 

"I would not be angry with you if you would treat him properly, like ayoung gentleman, and not like a dog! You treat him for all the world asyou treat Fido, " said this little lady of so few years, speaking with aneffort of moral courage that distressed her more than her companionscould have guessed, as she turned and walked away. 

Ishmael stepped after her. There were moments when the boy's soul aroseabove all the embarrassments incident to his age and condition. 

He stepped after her, and taking her hand, and pressing itaffectionately, said:

"Thank you, Bee! Thank you, dear, dearest, Bee! It was bravely done!"

She turned her tearful, smiling face towards the youth, and replied:

"But do not blame Claudia. She means well always; but, she is--"

"What is she?" inquired the youth anxiously; for there was no book inhis collection that he studied with so much interest as Claudia. Therewas no branch of knowledge that he wished so earnestly to be thoroughlyacquainted with as with the nature of Claudia. 

"What is she?" he again eagerly inquired. 

"She is blind, where you are concerned. "

"I think so too, " murmured Ishmael, as he pressed the hand of his littlefriend and left her. 

Was Ishmael's allegiance to his "elect lady" turned aside? Ah, no!Claudia might misunderstand, humiliate, and wound him; but she was still"his own star, " the star of destiny. He went straight back to her side. But before a word could be exchanged between them the bell rang thatsummoned the young ladies to their places in the classroom. 

The long drawing room, which was opened only once or twice in the year, for large evening parties, had been fitted up and decorated for thisfête. 

The room being in its summer suit of straw matting, lace curtains, andbrown holland chair and sofa covering, needed but little change in itsarrangements. 

At the upper end of the room was erected a stage; upon that was placed along table; behind the table were arranged the seats of the examiningcommittee; and before it, and below the stage, were ranged, row behindrow, the benches for the classes, a separate bench being appropriated toeach class. The middle of the room was filled up with additionalchairs, arranged in rows, for the accommodation of the audience. Thewalls were profusely decorated with green boughs and blooming flowers, arranged in festoons and wreaths. 

At twelve o'clock precisely, the examining committee being in theirplaces, the classbooks on the table before them, the classes ranged inorder in front of them, and the greater part of the company assembled, the business of the examination commenced in earnest. 

The examining committee was composed of the masters of a neighboringcollegiate school, who were three in number--namely, Professor Adams, Doctor Martin, and Mr. Watkins. The school was divided into threeclasses. They began with the lowest class and ascended by regularrotation to the highest. The examination of these classes passed offfairly enough to satisfy a reasonable audience. Among the pupils therewas the usual proportion of "sharps, flats, and naturals"--otherwise ofbright, dull, and mediocre individuals. After the examination of thethree classes was complete, there remained the two youths, WalterMiddleton and Ishmael Worth, who, far in advance of the other pupils, were not classed with them, and, being but two, could not be called aclass of themselves. Yet they stood up and were examined together, andacquitted themselves with alternating success and equal honor. Forinstance, in mathematics Walter Middleton had the advantage; inbelles-lettres Ishmael excelled; in modern languages both were equal;and nothing now remained but the reading of the two Greek theses toestablish the relative merits of these generous competitors. Thesecompositions had been placed in the hands of the committee, without thenames of their authors; so that the most captious might not be able tocomplain that the decision of the examiners had been swayed by fear orfavor. The theses were to be read and deliberated upon by the examinersalone, and while this deliberation was going on there was a recess, during which the pupils were dismissed to amuse themselves on the lawn, and the audience fell into easy disorder, moving about and chattingamong themselves. 

In an hour a bell was rung, the pupils were called in and arranged intheir classes, the audience fell into order again, and the distributionof prizes commenced. This was arranged on so liberal a scale that eachand all received a prize for something thing or other--if it were notfor scholastic proficiency, or exemplary deportment, then it was forpersonal neatness or something else. The two Burghes, who were grosslyignorant, slothful, perverse, and slovenly, got prizes for the regularattendance, into which they were daily dragooned by their father. 

Walter Middleton received the highest prize in mathematics; IshmaelWorth took the highest in belles-lettres; both took prizes in modernlanguages; so far they were head and head in the race; and nothingremained but to award the gold watch which was to confer the highesthonors of the school upon its fortunate recipient. But before awardingthe watch the two theses were to be read aloud to the audience for thebenefit of the few who were learned enough to understand them. ProfessorAdams was the reader. He arose in his place and opened the first paper;it proved to be the composition of Ishmael Worth. As he read the eyesand ears of the two young competitors, who were sitting together, werestrained upon him. 

"Oh, I know beforehand you will get the prize! And I wish you joy of it, my dear fellow!" whispered Walter. 

"Oh, no, I am sure I shall not! You will get it! You will see!" repliedIshmael. 

Walter shook his head incredulously. But as the reading proceeded Walterlooked surprised, then perplexed, and then utterly confounded. Finallyhe turned and inquired:

"Ish. , what the mischief is the old fellow doing with your composition?He is reading it all wrong. "

"He is reading just what is written, I suppose, " replied Ishmael. 

"But he isn't, I tell you! I ought to know, for I have read it myself, you remember! and I assure you he makes one or two mistakes in everyparagraph! The fact is, I do not believe he knows much of Greek, and hewill just ruin us both by reading our compositions in that style!"exclaimed Walter. 

"He is reading mine aright, " persisted Ishmael. 

And before Walter could reply again, the perusal of Ishmael's thesis wasfinished, the paper was laid upon the table, and Walter's thesis wastaken up. 

"Now then; I wonder if he is going to murder mine in the same manner, "said Walter. 

The reader commenced and went on smoothly to the end without havingmiscalled a word or a syllable. 

"That is a wonder; I do not understand it at all!" said young Middleton. 

Ishmael smiled; but did not reply. 

Professor Adams rapped upon the table and called the school to order;and then, still retaining Walter's thesis in his hand, he said:

"Ihe highest prize in the gift of the examiners--the gold watch--isawarded to the author of the thesis I hold in my hand. The younggentleman will please to declare himself, walk forward, and receive thereward. "

"There, Walter! what did I tell you? I wish you joy now, old fellow!There! 'go where glory awaits you, '" smilingly whispered Ishmael. 

"I understand it all now, Ish. ! I fully understand it! But I will notaccept the sacrifice, old boy, " replied Walter. 

"Will the young gentleman who is the author of the prize thesis step upand be invested with this watch?" rather impatiently demanded thewearied Professor Adams. 

Walter Middleton arose in his place. 

"I am the author of the thesis last read; but I am not entitled to theprize; there has been a mistake. "

"Walter!" exclaimed his father, in a tone of rebuke. 

The examiners looked at the young speaker in surprise, and at each otherin perplexity. 

"Excuse me, father; excuse me, gentlemen; but there has been a seriousmistake, which I hope to prove to you, and which I know you would notwish me to profit by, " persisted the youth modestly, but firmly. 

"Don't, now, Walter! hush, sit down, " whispered Ishmael in distress. 

"I will, " replied young Middleton firmly. 

"Walter, come forward and explain yourself; you certainly owe thesegentlemen both an explanation and an apology for your unseemlyinterruption of their proceedings and your presumptuous questioning oftheir judgment, " said Mr. Middleton. 

"Father, I am willing and anxious to explain, and my explanation initself will be my very best apology; but, before I can go on, I wish tobeg the favor of a sight of the thesis that was first read, " saidWalter, coming up to the table of the examiners. 

The paper was put in his hands. He cast his eyes over it and smiled. 

"Well, my young friend, what do you mean by that?" inquired ProfessorAdams. 

"Why, sir, I mean that it is just as I surmised; that this paper which Ihold in my hand is not the paper that was prepared for the examiningcommittee; this, sir, must be the original draft of the thesis, and notthe fair copy which was intended to compete for the gold watch, " saidWalter firmly. 

"But why do you say this, sir? What grounds have you for entertainingsuch an opinion?" inquired Professor Adams. Young Middleton smiledconfidently as he replied:

"I have seen and read the fair copy; there was not a mistake in it; andit was in every other respect greatly superior to my own. "

"If this is true, and of course I know it must be so, since you say it, my son, why was not the fair copy put in our hands? By what strangeinadvertence has this rough draft found its way to us?" inquired Mr. Middleton. 

"Father, " replied Walter, in a low voice, "by no inadvertence at all!Ishmael has done this on purpose that your son might receive the goldwatch. I am sure of it; but I cannot accept his noble sacrifice! Father, you would not have me do it. "

"No, Walter; no, my boy; not if a kingdom instead of a gold watch wereat stake. You must not profit by his renunciation, if there has been anyrenunciation. But are you sure that there has been?"

"I will prove it to your satisfaction, sir. Yesterday, in my greatanxiety to know how my chances stood for the first prize, I askedIshmael for a sight of his thesis, and I tendered him a sight of mine. Ishmael did not refuse me. We exchanged papers and read each other'scompositions. Ishmael's was fairly written, accurate, logical, and veryeloquent. Mine was very inferior in every respect except literalaccuracy. Ishmael must have seen, after comparing the two, that he mustgain the prize. I certainly knew he would; I expressed my convictionstrongly to that effect; and I congratulated him in anticipation of acertain triumph. But, though I wished him joy, I must have betrayed themortification that was in my own heart; for Ishmael insisted that Ishould be sure to get the medal myself. And this is the way in which hehas secured the fulfillment of his own prediction: by suppressing hisfair copy that must have taken the prize, and sending up that roughdraft on purpose to lose it in my favor. "

"Can this be true?" mused Mr. Middleton. 

"You can test its truth for yourself, sir. Call up Ishmael Worth. Youknow that he will not speak falsely. Ask him if he has not suppressedthe fair copy and exhibited the rough draft. You have authority overhim, sir. Order him to produce the suppressed copy, that his abilitiesmay be justly tested, " said Walter. 

Mr. Middleton dropped his head upon his chest and mused. Meanwhile theaudience were curious and impatient to know what on earth could be goingon around the examiner's table. Those only who were nearest had heardthe words of Walter Middleton when he first got up to disclaim all rightto the gold watch. But after he had gone forward to the table no morewas heard, the conversation being carried on in a confidential tone muchtoo low to be heard beyond the little circle around the board. 

After musing for a few minutes, Mr. Middleton lifted his head and said:

"I will follow your advice, my son. " Then, raising his voice, he calledout:

"Ishmael Worth come forward. "

Ishmael, who had half suspected what was going on around that table, nowarose, approached and stood respectfully waiting orders. 

Mr. Middleton took the thesis from the hands of Walter and placed it inthose of Ishmael, saying:

"Look over that paper and tell me if it is not the first rough draft ofyour thesis. "

"Yes, sir, it is, " admitted the youth, as with embarrassment he receivedthe paper. 

"Have you a fair copy?" inquired Mr. Middleton. 

"Yes, sir. "

"Where is it? anywhere in reach?"

"It is in the bottom of my desk in the schoolroom, sir. "

"Go and fetch it, that we may examine it and fairly test yourabilities, " commanded the master. 

Ishmael left the drawing-room, and after an absence of a few minutesreturned with a neatly folded paper, which he handed to Mr. Middleton. 

That gentleman unfolded and looked at it. A very cursory examinationserved to prove the great superiority of this copy over the originalone. Mr. Middleton refolded it, and, looking steadily and almost sternlyinto Ishmael's face, inquired:

"Was the rough draft sent to the examiners, instead of this fair copy, through any inadvertence of yours? Answer me truly. "

"No, sir, " replied Ishmael, looking down. 

"It was done knowingly, then?"

"Yes, sir. "

"For what purpose, may I ask you, did you suppress the fair copy, whichmost assuredly must have won you the watch, and substitute this roughdraft, that as certainly must have lost it?"

Still looking down, Ishmael remained silent and embarrassed. 

"Young man, I command you to reply to me, " said the master. 

"Sir, I thought I had a right to do as I pleased with my owncomposition, " replied Ishmael, lifting his head and looking straightinto the face of the questioner, with that modest confidence whichsometimes gained the victory over his shyness. 

"Unquestionably; but that is not an answer to my question, as to why thesubstitution was made. "

"I wish you would not press the question, sir. "

"But I do, Ishmael, and I enjoin you to answer it. "

"Then, sir, I suppressed the fair copy, and sent up the rough draft, because I thought there was one who, for his great diligence, had anequal or better right to the watch than I had, and who would be morepained by losing it than I should, and I did not wish to enter intocompetition with him; for indeed, sir, if I had won the watch from myfriend I should have been more pained by his defeat than pleased at myown victory, " said Ishmael, his fine face clearing up under theconsciousness of probity. (But, reader, mark you this--it was theamiable trait inherited from his father--the pain in giving pain; thepleasure in giving pleasure. But we know that this propensity which hadproved so fatal to the father was guided by conscience to all good endsin the son. )

While Ishmael gave this little explanation, the examiners listened, whispered, and nodded to each other with looks of approval. 

And Walter came to his friend's side, and affectionately took andpressed his hand, saying:

"I knew it, as soon as I had heard both theses read, and saw that theyseemed to make mistakes only in yours. It was very generous in you, Ishmael; but you seemed to leave out of the account the fact that Iought not to have profited by such generosity; and also that if I hadlost the prize, and you had won it, my mortification would have beenalleviated by the thought that you, the best pupil in the school, and myown chosen friend, had won it. "

"Order!" said Mr. Middleton, interrupting this whispered conversation. "Ishmael, " he continued, addressing the youth, "your act was a generousone, certainly; whether it was a righteous one is doubtful. There is anold proverb which places 'justice before generosity. ' I do not know thatit does not go so far as even to inculcate justice to ourselves beforegenerosity to our fellows. You should have been just to yourself beforebeing generous to your friend. It only remains for us now to rectifythis wrong. " Then turning to Professor Adams, he said:

"Sir, may I trouble you to take this fair copy and read it aloud?"

Professor Adams bowed in assent as he received the paper. Ishmael andWalter returned to their seats to await the proceedings. 

Professor Adams arose in his place, and in a few words explained how ithappened that in the case of the first thesis read to them, he had giventhe rough draft instead of the fair copy, which in justice to the youngwriter he should now proceed to read. 

Now, although not half a dozen persons in that room could have perceivedany difference in the two readings of a thesis written in a language ofwhich even the alphabet was unknown known to them, yet every individualamong them could keenly appreciate the magnanimity of Ishmael, who wouldhave sacrificed his scholastic fame for his friend's benefit, and thequickness and integrity of Walter in discovering the generous ruse andrefusing the sacrifice. They put their heads together whispering, nodding, and smiling approval. "Damon and Pythias, " "Orestes andPylades, " were the names bestowed upon the two friends. But at lengthcourtesy demanded that the audience should give some little attention tothe reading of the Greek thesis, whether they understood a word of it ornot. Their patience was not put to a long test. The reading was a matterof about fifteen minutes, and at its close the three examiners conversedtogether for a few moments. 

And then Professor Adams arose and announced the young author of thethesis which he had just read as the successful competitor for thehighest honors of the school, and requested him to come forward and beinvested with the prize. 

"Now it is my time to wish you joy, and to say, 'Go where glory waitsyou, ' Ishmael!" whispered Walter, pressing his friend's hand and gentlyurging him from his seat. 

Ishmael yielded to the impulse and the invitation, and went up to thetable. Professor Adams leaned forward, threw the slender gold chain, towhich the watch was attached, around the neck of Ishmael, saying:

"May this well-earned prize be the earnest of future successes even morebrilliant than this. "

Ishmael bowed low in acknowledgment of the gold watch and the kindwords, and amid the hearty applause of the company returned to his seat. 

The business of the day was now finished, and as it was now growing latein the afternoon, the assembly broke up. The "public" who had come onlyfor the examination returned home. The "friends" who had been invited tothe ball repaired first to the dining room to partake of a collation, and then to chambers which had been assigned them, to change theirdresses for the evening. 

CHAPTER XXXI. 

ISHMAEL HEARS A SECRET FROM AN ENEMY. 

 Shame come to Romeo? Blistered be thy tongue For such a wish! He was not born to shame; Upon his brow shame is ashamed to sit; For 'tis a throne where honor may be crowned, Sole monarch of the universal earth!

 --_Shakspere_. 

In the interval the drawing room was rapidly cleared out and preparedfor dancing. The staging at the upper end, which had been appropriatedto the use of the examining committee, was now occupied by a band of sixnegro musicians, headed by the Professor of Odd Jobs. They were seatedall in a row, engaged in tuning their instruments under the instructionsof Morris. The room wore a gay, festive, and inviting aspect. It wasbrightly lighted up; its white walls were festooned with wreaths offlowers; its oak floor was polished and chalked for the dancers; andits windows were all open to admit the pleasant summer air and theperfume of flowers, so much more refreshing in the evening than at anyother time of the day. 

At a very early hour the young ladies and gentlemen of the school, whosegala dresses needed but the addition of wreaths and bouquets for theevening, began to gather in the drawing room; the girls looking verypretty in their white muslin dresses, pink sashes, and coronets of redroses; and the boys very smart in their holiday clothes, with rosebudsstuck into their buttonholes. Ishmael was made splendid by the additionof his gold watch and chain, and famous by his success of the morning. All the girls, and many of the boys, gathered around him, sympathizingwith his triumph and complimenting him upon his abilities. Ishmael wasclearly the hero of the evening; but he bore himself with an aspect halfof pleasure, half of pain, until Walter Middleton approached him, andtaking his arm walked him down the room, until they were out of earshotfrom the others, when he said:

"Now do, Ishmael, put off that distressed look and enjoy your success asyou ought! Make much of your watch, my boy! I know if it were not forthoughts of me, you would enjoy the possession of it vastly--would younot, now?"

"Yes, " said Ishmael, "I would. "

"You would not be a 'human boy, ' if you didn't. I know well enough I wasnear losing my wits with delight in the first watch I possessed, although it was but a trumpery little silver affair! Well, now, Ishmael, enjoy your possession without a drawback. I assure you, upon record, Iam very glad you got the prize. You deserved the honor more than I did, and you needed the watch more. For see here, you know I have a gold oneof my own already--my mother's gift to me on my last birthday, "continued Walter, taking out and displaying his school watch. "Now whatcould I do with two? So, Ishmael, let me see you enjoy yours, or else Ishall feel unhappy, " he concluded, earnestly pressing his friend's hand. 

"Walter Middleton, what do you mean, sir, by stealing my thunder in thatway? It is my property that you are carrying off! Ishmael is my protégé, my liege subject. Bring him back, sir! I want to show his watch to mycompanions, " spoke the imperious voice of Miss Merlin. 

"Come, Ishmael; you must make a spectacle of yourself again, I suppose, to please that little tyrant, " laughed Walter, as he turned back withhis friend towards the group of young girls. 

Now in this company was one who looked with the envious malignity ofSatan upon the well-merited honors of the poor peasant boy. This enemywas Alfred Burghe, and he was now savagely waiting his opportunity toinflict upon Ishmael a severe mortification. 

As Walter and Ishmael, therefore, approached the group of young ladies, Alfred, who was loitering near them, lying in wait for his victim, drewaway with an expression of disgust upon his face, saying:

"Oh, if that fellow is to join our circle, I shall feel obliged to leaveit. It is degrading enough to be forced to mix with such rubbish in theschoolroom, without having to associate with him in the drawing room. "

"What do you mean by that, sir?" demanded Miss Merlin, flashing upon himthe lightning of her eyes, before Ishmael had drawn near enough tooverhear the words of Alfred. 

"I mean that fellow is not fit company for me. "

"No; Heavens knows that he is not!" exclaimed Claudia pointedly. 

"Never mind, Miss Merlin; do not be angry with him; the beaten have aright to cry out, " said Ishmael, who had now come up, and stood smilingamong them, totally unconscious of the humiliation that was in store forhim. 

"I am not angry; I am never angry with such dull pups; though I find itnecessary to punish them sometimes, " replied Claudia haughtily. 

"I say he is no fit company for me; and when I say that, I mean to saythat he is no fit company for any young gentleman, much less for anyyoung lady!" exclaimed Alfred. 

Ishmael looked on with perfect good humor, thinking only that hispoverty was sneered at, and feeling immeasurably above the possibilityof humiliation or displeasure upon that account. 

Claudia thought as he did, that only his lowly fortunes had exposed himto contempt; so putting her delicate white gloved hand in that ofIshmael, she said:

"Ishmael Worth is my partner in the first dance; do you dare to hintthat the youth I dance with is not proper company for any gentleman, orany lady, either?"

"No, I don't hint it; I speak it out in plain words; he is not only notfit company for any gentleman or lady, but he is not even fit companyfor any decent negro!"

Ishmael, strong in conscious worth, and believing the words of Alfred tobe only reckless assertion, senseless abuse, laughed aloud with sincere, boyish mirthfulness at its absurdity. 

But Claudia's cheeks grew crimson, and her eyes flashed--bad signs thesefor the keeping of her temper towards "dull pups. "

"He is honest, truthful, intelligent, industrious, and polite. These arequalities which, of course, unfit him for such society as yours, Mr. Burghe; but I do not see why they should unfit him for that of ladiesand gentlemen, " said Claudia severely. 

"He is a ----, " brutally exclaimed Alfred, using a coarse word, at whichall the young girls started and recoiled, as if each had received awound, while all the boys exclaimed simultaneously:

"Oh, fie!" or "Oh, Alf, how could you say such a thing!"

"For shame!"

As for Walter Middleton, he had collared the young miscreant before theword was fairly out of his mouth. But an instant's reflection caused theyoung gentleman to release the culprit, with the words:

"My father's house and the presence of these young ladies protect youfor the present, sir. "

Ishmael stood alone, in the center of a shocked and recoiling circle ofyoung girls; so stunned by the epithet that had been hurled at him thathe scarcely yet understood its meaning or felt that he was wounded. 

"What did he say, Walter?" he inquired, appealing to his friend. 

Walter Middleton put his strong arm around the slender and elegant formof Ishmael, and held him firmly; but whether in a close embrace or lightrestraint, or both, it was hard to decide, as he answered:

"He says what will be very difficult for him to explain, when he shallbe called to account to-morrow morning; but what, it is quite needlessto repeat. "

"I say he is a ----! His mother was never married! and no one on earthknows who his father was--or if he ever had a father!" roared Alfredbrutally. 

Walter's arm closed convulsively upon Ishmael. There was good reason. The boy had given one spasmodic bound forward, as if he would havethrottled his adversary on the spot; but the restraining arm of WalterMiddleton held him back; his face was pale as marble; a cold sweat hadburst upon his brow; he was trembling in every limb as he gasped:

"Walter, this cannot be true! Oh, say it is not true!"

"True! no! I believe it is as false--as false as that young villain'sheart! and nothing can be falser than that!" indignantly exclaimed youngMiddleton. 

"It is! it is true! The whole county knows it is true!" vociferatedAlfred. "And if anybody here doubts it, let them ask old Hannah Worth ifher nephew isn't a ----"

"Leave the room, sir!" exclaimed Walter, interrupting him before hecould add another word. "Your language and manners are so offensive asto render your presence entirely inadmissible here! Leave the room, instantly!"

"I won't!" said Alfred stoutly. 

Walter was unwilling to release Ishmael from the tight, half-friendly, half-masterly embrace in which he held him; else, perhaps, he mighthimself have ejected the offender. As it was, he grimly repeated hisdemand. 

"Will you leave the room?"

"No!" replied Alfred. 

"James, do me the favor to ring the bell. "

James Middleton rang a peal that brought old Jovial quickly to the room. 

"Jovial, will you go and ask your master if he will be kind enough tocome here; his presence is very much needed, " said Walter. 

Jovial bowed and withdrew. 

"I shall go and complain to my father of the insults I have received!"said Alfred, turning to leave the room; for he had evidently no wish tomeet the impending interview with Mr. Middleton. 

"I anticipated that you would reconsider your resolution of remaininghere!" laughed Walter, as he let this sarcasm off after his retreatingfoe. 

He had scarcely disappeared through one door before Mr. Middletonentered at another. 

"What is all this about, Walter?" he inquired, approaching the group ofpanic-stricken girls and wondering boys. 

"Some new rudeness of Alfred Burghe, father; but he has just takenhimself off, for which I thank him; so there is no use in saying moreupon the subject for the present, " replied Walter. 

"There is no use, in any case, to disturb the harmony of a festiveevening, my son; all complaints may well be deferred until the morning, when I shall be ready to hear them, " replied Mr. Middleton, smiling, andnever suspecting how serious the offense of Alfred Burghe had been. 

"And now, " he continued, turning towards the band, "strike up the music, professor! The summer evenings are short, and the young people must makethe most of this one. Walter, my son, you are to open the ball with yourcousin. "

"Thank you very much, uncle; thank you, Walter, but my hand is engagedfor this set to Ishmael Worth; none but the winner of the first prizefor me!" said Claudia gayly, veiling the kindness that prompted her tofavor the mortified youth under a sportive assumption of vanity. 

"Very well, then, where is the hero?" said Mr. Middleton. 

But Ishmael had suddenly disappeared, and was nowhere to be found. 

"Where is he, Walter? He was standing by you, " said Claudia. 

"I had my arm around him to prevent mischief, and I released him only aninstant since; but he seems to have slipped away, " answered Walter, insurprise. 

"He has gone after Alfred! and there will be mischief done; and no onecould blame Ishmael if there was!" exclaimed Claudia. 

"It was young Worth, then, that Burghe assailed?" inquired Mr. Middleton. 

"Yes, uncle! and if Mr. Burghe is permitted to come to the house afterhis conduct this evening, I really shall feel compelled to write to myfather, and request him to remove me, for I cannot, indeed, indeed, Icannot expose myself to the shock of hearing such language as he hasdared to use in my presence this evening!" said Claudia excitedly. 

"Compose yourself, my dear girl; he will not trouble us after thisevening; he does not return to school after the vacation; he goes toWest Point, " said her uncle. 

"And where I hope the discipline will be strict enough to keep him inorder!" exclaimed Claudia. 

"But now someone must go after Ishmael. Ring for Jovial, Walter. "

"Father, old Jovial will be too slow. Had I not better go myself?" askedWalter, seizing his hat. 

Mr. Middleton assented, and the young man went out on his quest. 

He hunted high and low, but found no trace of Ishmael. He found, however, what set his mind at ease upon the subject of a collisionbetween the youths; it was the form of Alfred Burghe, stretched atlength upon the thick and dewy grass. 

"Why do you lie there? You will take cold. Get up and go home, " saidWalter, pitying his discomfiture and loneliness; for the generous arecompassionate even to the evil doer. 

Alfred did not condescend to reply. 

"Get up, I say; you will take cold, " persisted Walter. 

"I don't care if I do! I had as lief die as not! I have no friends!nobody cares for me, " exclaimed the unhappy youth, in the bitterness ofspirit common to those who have brought their troubles upon themselves. 

"If you would only reform your manners, Alfred, you would find friendsenough, from the Creator, who only requires of you that 'you cease to doevil and learn to do well, ' down to the humblest of his creatures--downto that poor boy whom you so heartlessly insulted to-night; but whosegenerous nature would bear no lasting malice against you, " said Waltergravely. 

"It is deuced hard, though, to see a fellow like that taking the shineout of us all, " grumbled Alfred. 

"No, it isn't! it is glorious, glorious indeed, to see a poor youth likethat struggling up to a higher life--as he is struggling. He won theprize from me, me, his senior in age and in the school, and my heartburns with admiration for the boy when I think of it! How severely hemust have striven to have attained such proficiency in these threeyears. How hard he must have studied; how much of temptation to idlenesshe must have resisted; how much of youthful recreation, and even ofneedful rest, he must have constantly denied himself; not once or twice, but for months and years! Think of it! He has richly earned all thesuccess he has had. Do not envy him his honors, at least until you haveemulated his heroism, " said Walter, with enthusiasm. 

"I think I will go home, " said Alfred, to whom the praises of his rivalwas not the most attractive theme in the world. 

"You may return with me to the house now, if you please, since my friendIshmael has gone home. Keep out of the way of Miss Merlin, and no oneelse will interfere with you, " said Walter, who, when not roused toindignation, had all his father's charity for "miserable" sinners. 

Alfred hesitated for a minute, looking towards the house, where thelight windows and pealing music of the drawing room proved an attractiontoo strong for his pride to resist. Crestfallen and sheepish, henevertheless returned to the scene of festivity, where the young peoplewere now all engaged in dancing, and where, after a while, they all withthe happy facility of youth forgot his rudeness and drew him into theirsports. All except Claudia, who would have nothing on earth to say tohim, and Beatrice, who, though ignorant of his assault upon Ishmael, obeyed the delicate instincts of her nature that warned her to avoidhim. 

On observing the return of Alfred, Mr. Middleton took the firstopportunity of saying to his son:

"I see that you have brought Burghe back. "

"Yes, father; since Ishmael is not here to be pained by his presence, Ithought it better to bring him back; for I remembered your words spokenof him on a former occasion: 'That kindness will do more to reform sucha nature as his than reprobation could. '"

"Yes--very true! But poor Ishmael! Where is he?"

Aye! where, indeed?

CHAPTER XXXII. 

AT HIS MOTHER'S GRAVE. 

 He sees her lone headstone, 'Tis white as a shroud; Like a pall hangs above it The low, drooping cloud. 

 'Tis well that the white ones Who bore her to bliss, Shut out from her new life The sorrows of this. 

 Else sure as he stands here, And speaks of his love, She would leave for his darkness Her glory above. 

 --_E. H. Whittier_. 

Giddy, faint, reeling from the shock he had received, Ishmael totteredfrom the gay and lighted rooms and sought the darkness and the coolnessof the night without. 

He leaned against the great elm tree on the lawn, and wiped the beadedsweat from his brow. 

"It is not true, " he said. "I know it is not true! Walter said it wasfalse; and I would stake my soul that it is. My dear mother is an angelin heaven; I am certain of that; for I have seen her in my dreams eversince I can remember. But yet--but yet--why did they all recoil from me?Even she--even Claudia Merlin shrank from me as from something uncleanand contaminating, when Alfred called me that name. If they had notthought there was some truth in the charge, would they all have recoiledfrom me so? Would she have shrunk from me as if I had had the plague?Oh, no! Oh, no! And then Aunt Hannah! Why does she act so very strangelywhen I ask her about my parents? If I ask her about my father sheanswers me with a blow. If I ask her about my mother, she answers thatmy mother was a saint on earth and is now an angel in heaven. Oh! I donot need to be told that; I know it already. I always knew it of my dearmother. But to only know it no longer satisfies me; I must have themeans of proving it. And to-night, yes, to-night, Aunt Hannah, beforeeither of us sleep, you shall tell me all that you know of my angelmother and my unknown father. "

And having recovered his severely shaken strength, Ishmael left thegrounds of Brudenell Hall and struck into the narrow foot-path leadingdown the heights and through the valley to the Hut hill. 

Hannah was seated alone, enjoying her solitary cup of tea, when Ishmaelopened the door and entered. 

"What, my lad, have you come back so early? I did not think the ballwould have been over before twelve or one o'clock, and it is not tenyet; but I suppose, being a school ball, it broke up early. Did you getany premiums? How many did you get?" inquired Hannah, heaping questionupon question without waiting for reply, as was her frequent custom. 

Ishmael drew a chair to the other side of the table and sunk heavilyinto it. 

"You are tired, poor fellow, and no wonder! I dare say, for all the goodthings you got at the ball, that a cup of tea will do you no harm, " saidHannah, pouring out and handing him one. 

Ishmael took it wearily and sat it by his side. 

"And now tell me about the premiums, " continued his aunt. 

"I got the first premium in belles-lettres, aunt; and it was Hallam's'History of Literature. ' And I got the first in languages, which wasIrving's 'Life of Washington'--two very valuable works, Aunt Hannah, that will be treasures to me all my life. "

"Why do you sigh so heavily, my boy? are you so tired as all that? Butone would think, as well as you love books, those fine ones would 'livenyou up. Where are they? Let me see them. "

"I left them at the school, Aunt Hannah. I will go and fetch themto-morrow. "

"There's that sigh again! What is the matter with you, child? Are yougrowing lazy? Who got the gold medal?"

"It wasn't a medal, Aunt Hannah. Mr. Middleton wanted to give somethinguseful as well as costly for the first prize; and he said a medal was ofno earthly use to anybody, so he made the prize a gold watch and chain. "

"But who got it?"

"I did, aunt; there it is, " said Ishmael, taking the jewel from his neckand laying it on the table. 

"Oh! what a beautiful watch and chain! and all pure gold! real yellowguinea gold! This must be worth almost a hundred dollars! Oh, Ishmael, we never had anything like this in the house before. I am so much afraidsomebody might break in and steal it!" exclaimed Hannah, her admirationand delight at sight of the rich prize immediately modified by the caresand fears that attend the possession of riches. 

Ishmael did not reply; but Hannah went on reveling in the sight of thecostly bauble, until, happening to look up, she saw that Ishmael, instead of drinking his tea, sat with his head drooped upon his hand insorrowful abstraction. 

"There you are again! There is no satisfying some people. One wouldthink you would be as happy as a king with all your prizes. But thereyou are moping. What is the matter with you, boy? Why don't you drinkyour tea?"

"Aunt Hannah, you drink your own tea, and when you have done it I willhave a talk with you. "

"Is it anything particular?"

"Very particular, Aunt Hannah; but I will not enter upon the subjectnow, " said Ishmael, raising his cup to his lips to prevent furtherquestionings. 

But when the tea was over and the table cleared away, Ishmael took thehand of his aunt and drew her towards the door, saying:

"Aunt Hannah, I want you to go with me to my mother's grave. It will nothurt you to do so; the night is beautiful, clear and dry, and there isno dew. "

Wondering at the deep gravity of his words and manner, Hannah allowedhim to draw her out of the house and up the hill behind it to Nora'sgrave at the foot of the old oak tree. It was a fine, bright, starlightnight, and the rough headstone, rudely fashioned and set up by theprofessor, gleamed whitely out from the long shadowy grass. 

Ishmael sank down upon the ground beside the grave, put his arms aroundthe headstone, and for a space bowed his head. 

Hannah seated herself upon a fragment of rock near him. But bothremained silent for a few minutes. 

It was Hannah who broke the spell. 

"Ishmael, my dear, " she said, "why have you drawn me out here, and whathave you to say to me of such a serious nature that it can be utteredonly here?"

But Ishmael still was silent--being bowed down with thought or grief. 

Reflect a moment, reader: At this very instant of time his enemy--he whohad plunged him in this grief--was in the midst of all the light andmusic of the ball at Brudenell Hall; but could not enjoy himself, because the stings of conscience irritated him, and because the frownsof Claudia Merlin chilled and depressed him. 

Ishmael was out in the comparative darkness and silence of night andnature. Yet he, too, had his light and music--light and music more inharmony with his mood than any artificial substitutes could be; he hadthe holy light of myriads of stars shining down upon him, and the musicof myriads of tiny insects sounding around him. Mark you this, dearreader--in light and music is the Creator forever worshiped by nature. When the sun sets, the stars shine; and when the birds sleep, theinsects sing!

This subdued light and music of nature's evening worship suited well thesaddened yet exalted mood of our poor boy. He knew not what was beforehim, what sort of revelation he was about to invoke, but he knew that, whatever it might be, it should not shake his resolve, "to deal justly, love mercy, and walk humbly" with his God. 

Hannah, spoke again:

"Ishmael, will you answer me--why have you brought me here? What haveyou to say to me so serious as to demand this grave for the place of itshearing?"

"Aunt Hannah, " began the boy, "what I have to say to you is even moresolemn than your words import. "

"Ishmael, you frighten me. "

"No, no; there is no cause of alarm. "

"Why don't you tell me what has brought us here, then?"

"I am about to do so, " said Ishmael solemnly. "Aunt Hannah, you haveoften told me that she whose remains lie below us was a saint on earthand is an angel in heaven!"

"Yes, Ishmael. I have told you so, and I have told you truly. "

"Aunt Hannah, three years ago I asked you who was my father. You repliedby a blow. Well, I was but a boy then, and so of course you must havethought that that was the most judicious answer you could give. But now, Aunt Hannah, I am a young man, and I demand of you, Who was my father?"

"Ishmael, I cannot tell you!"

With a sharp cry of anguish the youth sprang up; but governing hisstrong excitement he subsided to his seat, only gasping out thequestion:

"In the name of Heaven, why can you not?"

Hannah's violent sobs were the only answer. 

"Aunt Hannah! I know this much--that your name is Hannah Worth; that mydear mother was your sister; that her name was Nora Worth; and that mineis Ishmael Worth! Therefore I know that I bear yours and my mother'smaiden name! I always took it for granted that my father belonged to thesame family; that he was a relative, perhaps a cousin of my mother, andthat he bore the same name, and therefore did not in marrying my mothergive her a new one. That was what I always thought, Aunt Hannah; was Iright?"

Hannah sobbed on in silence. 

"Aunt Hannah! by my mother's grave, I adjure you to answer me! Was Iright?"

"No, Ishmael, you were not!" wailed Hannah. 

"Then I do not bear my father's name?"

"No. "

"But only my poor mother's?"

"Yes. "

"Oh, Heaven! how is that?"

"Because you have no legal right to your father's; because the only nameto which you have any legal right is your poor, wronged mother's!"

With a groan that seemed to rend body and soul asunder, Ishmael threwhimself upon his mother's grave. 

"You said she was an angel! And I know that she was!" he cried, as soonas he had recovered the power of speech. 

"I said truly, and you know the truth!" wept Hannah. 

"How, then, is it, that I, her son, cannot bear my father's name?"

"Ishmael, your mother was the victim of a false marriage!"

Ishmael sprang up from his recumbent posture, and gazed at his aunt witha fierceness that pierced through the darkness. 

"And so pure and proud was she, that the discovery broke her heart!"

Ishmael threw himself once more upon the grave, and clasping the moundin his arms, burst into a passionate flood of tears, and wept long andbitterly. And, after a while, through this shower of tears, came forthin gusty sobs these words:

"Oh, mother! Oh, poor, young, wronged, and broken-hearted mother! sleepin peace; for your son lives to vindicate you. Yes, if he has beenspared, it was for this purpose--to honor, to vindicate, to avenge you!"And after these words his voice was again lost and drowned in tears andsobs. 

Hannah kneeled down beside him, took his hand, and tried to raise him, saying:

"Ishmael, my love, get up, dear! There was no wrong done, no crimecommitted, nothing to avenge. Your father was as guiltless as yourmother, my boy; there was no sin; nothing from first to last but greatmisfortune. Come into the house, my Ishmael, and I will tell you allabout it. "

"Yes; tell me all! tell me every particular; have no more concealmentsfrom me!" cried Ishmael, rising to follow his aunt. 

"I will not; but oh, my boy! gladly would I have kept the sorrowfulstory concealed from you forever, but that I know from what I have seenof you to-night, that some rude tongue has told you of yourmisfortune--and told you wrong besides!" said Hannah, as they re-enteredthe hut. 

They sat down beside the small wood fire that the chill night made notunwelcome, even in August. Hannah sat in her old arm-chair, and Ishmaelon the three-legged stool at her feet, with his head in her lap. Andthere, with her hand caressing his light brown hair, Hannah told him thestory of his mother's love and suffering and death. 

At some parts of her story his tears gushed forth in floods, and hissobs shook his whole frame. Then Hannah would be forced to pause in hernarrative, until he had regained composure enough to listen to thesequel. 

Hannah told him all; every particular with which the reader is alreadyacquainted; suppressing nothing but the name of his miserable father. 

At the close of the sad story both remained silent for some time; thedeathly stillness of the room broken only by Ishmael's deep sighs. Atlast, however, he spoke:

"Aunt Hannah, still you have not told me the name of him my poor motherloved so fatally. "

"Ishmael, I have told you that I cannot; and now I will tell you why Icannot. "

And then Hannah related the promise that she had made to her dyingsister, never to expose the unhappy but guiltless author of her death. 

"Poor mother! poor, young, broken-hearted mother! She was not much olderthan I am now when she died--was she, Aunt Hannah?"

"Scarcely two years older, my dear. "

"So young!" sobbed Ishmael, dropping his head again upon Hannah's knee, and bursting into a tempest of grief. 

She allowed the storm to subside a little, and then said:

"Now, my Ishmael, I wish you to tell me what it was that sent you homeso early from the party, and in such a sorrowful mood. I knew, ofcourse, that something must have been said to you about your birth. Whatwas said, and who said it?"

"Oh, Aunt Hannah! it was in the very height of my triumph that I wasstruck down! I was not proud, Heaven knows, that I should have had sucha fall! I was not proud--I was feeling rather sad upon account ofWalter's having missed the prize; and I was thinking how hard it was inthis world that nobody could enjoy a triumph without someone elsesuffering a mortification. I was thinking and feeling so, as I tell you, until Walter came up and talked me out of my gloom. And then all myyoung companions were doing me honor in their way, when--"

Ishmael's voice was choked for a moment; but with an effort he regainedhis composure and continued, though in a broken and faltering voice:

"Alfred Burghe left the group, saying that I was not a proper companionfor young ladies and gentlemen. And when--she--Miss Merlin, angrilydemanded why I was not, he--Oh! Aunt Hannah!" Ishmael suddenly ceasedand dropped his face into his hands. 

"Compose yourself, my dear boy, and go on, " said the weaver. 

"He said that I was a--No! I cannot speak the word! I cannot!"

"A young villain! If ever I get my hands on him, I will give him as gooda broomsticking as ever a bad boy had in this world! He lied, Ishmael!You are not what he called you. You are legitimate on your mother'sside, because she believed herself to be a lawful wife. You bear hername, and you could lawfully inherit her property, if she had left any. Tell them that when they insult you!" exclaimed Hannah indignantly. 

"Ah! Aunt Hannah, they would not believe it without proof!"

"True! too true! and we cannot prove it, merely because your motherbound me by a promise never to expose the bigamy of your father. Oh, Ishmael, to shield him, what a wrong she did to herself and to you!"wept the woman. 

"Oh, Aunt Hannah, do not blame her! she was so good!" said this loyalson. "I can bear reproach for myself, but I will not bear it for her!Say anything you like to me, dear Aunt Hannah! but never say a wordagainst her!"

"But, poor boy! how will you bear the sure reproach of birth that youare bound to hear from others? Ah, Ishmael, you must try to fortify yourmind, my dear, to bear much unjust shame in this world. Ishmael, thebrighter the sun shines the blacker the shadow falls. The greater yoursuccess in the world, the bitterer will be this shame! See, my boy, itwas in the hour of your youthful triumph that this reproach was firstcast in your face! The envious are very mean, my boy. Ah, how will youanswer their cruel reproaches!"

"I will tell you, Aunt Hannah! Let them say what they like of me; I willtry to bear with them patiently; but if any man or boy utters one wordof reproach against my dear mother--" The boy ceased to speak, but hisface grew lived. 

"Now, now, what would you do?" exclaimed Hannah, in alarm. 

"Make him recant his words, or silence him forever!"

"Oh, Ishmael! Ishmael! you frighten me nearly to death! Good Heaven, menare dreadful creatures! They never receive an injury but they must needsthink of slaying! Oh, how I wish you had been a girl! Since you were tobe, how I do wish you had been a girl! Boys are a dreadful trial andterror to a lone woman! Oh, Ishmael! promise me you won't do anythingviolent!" exclaimed Hannah, beside herself with terror. 

"I cannot, Aunt Hannah! For I should be sure to break such a promise ifthe occasion offered. Oh, Aunt Hannah! you don't know all my mother isto me! You don't! You think because she died the very day that I wasborn that I cannot know anything about her and cannot love her; but Itell you, Aunt Hannah, I know her well! and I love her as much as if shewas still in the flesh. I have seen her in my dreams ever since I canremember anything. Oh! often, when I was very small and you used to lockme up alone in the hut, while you went away for all day to Baymouth, Ihave been strangely soothed to sleep and then I have seen her in mydreams!"

"Ishmael, you rave!"

"No, I don't; I will prove it to you, that I see my mother. Listen, now;nobody ever described her to me; not even you; but I will tell you howshe looks--she is tall and slender; she has a very fair skin and verylong black hair, and nice slender black eyebrows and long eyelashes, andlarge dark eyes--and she smiles with her eyes only! Now, is not that mymother? For that is the form that I see in my dreams, " said Ishmaeltriumphantly, and for the moment forgetting his grief. 

"Yes, that is like what she was; but of course you must have heard herdescribed by someone, although you may have forgotten it. Ishmael, dear, I shall pray for you to-night, that all thoughts of vengeance may be putout of your mind. Now let us go to bed, my child, for we have to be upearly in the morning. And, Ishmael?"

"Yes, Aunt Hannah. "

"Do you also pray to God for guidance and help. "

"Aunt Hannah, I always do, " said the boy, as he bade his relativegood-night and went up to his loft. 

Long Ishmael lay tumbling and tossing upon his restless bed. But whenat length he fell asleep a heavenly dream visited him. 

He dreamed that his mother, in her celestial robe, stood by his bed andbreathed sweetly forth his name:

"Ishmael, my son. "

And in his dream he answered:

"I am here, mother. "

"Listen, my child: Put thoughts of vengeance from your soul! In thisstrong temptation think not what Washington, Jackson, or any of yourwarlike heroes would have done; think what the Prince of Peace, Christ, would have done; and do thou likewise!" And so saying, the heavenlyvision vanished. 

CHAPTER XXXIII. 

LOVE AND GENIUS. 

 Her face was shining on him; he had looked Upon it till it could not pass away; He had no breath, no being but in hers; She was his voice: he did not speak to her, But trembled on her words: she was his sight; For his eye followed hers and saw with hers, Which colored all his objects. 

 --_Byron_. 

Early the next morning Ishmael walked over to Brudenell Hall with thethreefold purpose of making an apology for his sudden departure from theball; taking leave of the family for the holidays; and bringing home thebooks he had won as prizes. 

As he approached the house he saw Mr. Middleton walking on the lawn. 

That gentleman immediately advanced to meet Ishmael, holding out hishand, and saying, with even more than his usual kindness of manner:

"Good-morning, my dear boy; you quite distinguished yourself yesterday;I congratulate you. "

"I thank you, sir; I thank you very much; but I fear that I was guiltyof great rudeness in leaving the party so abruptly last night; but Ihope, when you hear my explanation, you will excuse me, sir, " saidIshmael, deeply flushing. 

Mr. Middleton kindly drew the boy's arm within his own, and walked himaway from the house down a shady avenue of elms, and when they had gotquite out of hearing of any chance listener, he said gravely:

"My boy, I have heard the facts from Walter, and I do not require anyexplanation from you. I hold you entirely blameless in the affair, Ishmael, and I can only express my deep regret that you should havereceived an insult while under my roof. I trust, Ishmael, that time andreflection will convince young Burghe of his great error, and that theday may come when he himself will seek you to make a voluntary apologyfor his exceeding rudeness. "

Ishmael did not reply; his eyes were fixed upon the ground, and his veryforehead was crimson. Mr. Middleton saw all this, divined his thoughts, and so gently continued:

"You will be troubled no more with Alfred Burghe or his weak brother;both boys left this morning; Alfred goes to the Military Academy at WestPoint; Ben to the Naval School at Annapolis; so you will be quite freefrom annoyance by them. "

Still Ishmael hung his head, and Mr. Middleton added:

"And now, my young friend, do not let the recollection of thatscapegrace's words trouble you in the slightest degree. Let me assureyou, that no one who knows you, and whose good opinion is worth having, will ever esteem your personal merits less, upon account of--" Mr. Middleton hesitated for a moment, and then said, very softly--"yourpoor, unhappy mother. "

Ishmael sprang aside, and groaned as if he had received a stab; and thenwith a rush of emotion, and in an impassioned manner, he exclaimed:

"My poor, unhappy mother! Oh, sir, you have used the right words! Shewas very poor and very unhappy! most unhappy; but not weak! not foolish!not guilty! Oh, believe it, sir! believe it, Mr. Middleton! For if youwere to doubt it, I think my spirit would indeed be broken! My poor, young mother, who went down to the grave when she was but little olderthan her son is now, was a pure, good, honorable woman. She was, sir!she was! and I will prove it to the world some day, if Heaven only letsme live to do it! Say you believe it, Mr. Middleton! Oh, say you believeit!"

"I do believe it, my boy, " replied Mr. Middleton, entirely carried awayby the powerful magnetism of Ishmael's eager, earnest, impassionedmanner. 

"Heaven reward you, sir, " sighed the youth, subsiding into the modestcalmness of his usual deportment. 

"How do you intend to employ your holidays, Ishmael?" inquired hisfriend. 

"By continuing my studies at home, sir, " replied the youth. 

"I thought so! Well, so that you do not overwork yourself, you are rightto keep them up. These very long vacations are made for the benefit ofthe careless and idle, and not for the earnest and industrious. But, Ishmael, that little cot of yours is not the best place for yourpurpose; studies can scarcely be pursued favorably where household workis going on constantly; so I think you had better come here every day asusual, and read in the schoolroom. Mr. Brown will be gone certainly; butI shall be at home, and ready to render you any assistance. "

"Oh, sir, how shall I thank you?" joyfully began Ishmael. 

"By just making the best use of your opportunities to improve yourself, my lad, " smiled his friend, patting him on the shoulder. 

"But, sir--in the vacation--it will give you trouble--"

"It will afford me pleasure, Ishmael! I hope you can take my word forthat?"

"Oh, Mr. Middleton! Indeed you--how can I ever prove myself gratefulenough?"

"By simply getting on as fast as you can, boy! as I told you before. Andlet me tell you now, that there is good reason why you should now makethe best possible use of your time; it may be short. "

"Sir?" questioned Ishmael in perplexity and vague alarm. 

"I should rather have said it must be short! I will explain. You knowMr. Herman Brudenell?"

"Mr--Herman--Brudenell, " repeated the unconscious son, slowly andthoughtfully; then, as a flash of intelligence lighted up his face, heexclaimed: "Oh, yes, sir, I know who you mean; the young gentleman whoowns Brudenell Hall, and who is now traveling in Europe. "

"Yes! but he is not such a very young gentleman now; he must be betweenthirty-five and forty years of age. Well, my boy, you know, of course, that he is my landlord. When I rented this place, I took it by the year, and at a very low price, as the especial condition that I should leaveit at six months' warning. Ishmael, I have received that warning thismorning. I must vacate the premises on the first of next February. "

Ishmael looked confounded. "Must vacate these premises the first of nextFebruary, " he echoed, in a very dreary voice. 

"Yes, my lad; but don't look so utterly sorrowful; we shall not go outof the world, or even out of the State; perhaps not out of the county, Ishmael; and our next residence will be a permanent one; I shallpurchase, and not rent, next time; and I shall not lose sight of yourinterests; besides the parting is six months off yet; so look up, myboy. Bless me, if I had known it was going to depress you in this way, Ishould have delayed the communication as long as possible; in fact, myonly motive for making it now, is to give a good reason why you shouldmake the most of your time while we remain here. "

"Oh, sir, I will; believe me, I will; but I am so sorry you are evergoing to leave us, " said the boy, with emotion. 

"Thank you, Ishmael; I shall not forget you; and in the meantime, Mr. Brudenell, who is coming back to the Hall, and is a gentleman of greatmeans and beneficence, cannot fail to be interested in you; indeed, Imyself will mention you to him. And now come in, my boy, and takeluncheon with us. We breakfasted very early this morning in order to getthe teachers off in time for the Baltimore boat; and so we require anearly luncheon, " said Mr. Middleton, as he walked his young friend offto the house. 

Mrs. Middleton and all her children and Claudia were already seatedaround the table in the pleasant morning room, where all the windowswere open, admitting the free summer breezes, the perfume of flowers, and the songs of birds. 

The young people started up and rushed towards Ishmael; for theirsympathies were with him; and all began speaking at once. 

"Oh, Ishmael! why did you disappoint me of dancing with the best scholarin the school?" asked Claudia. 

"What did you run away for?" demanded James. 

"I wouldn't have gone for him, " said John. 

"Oh, Ishmael, it was such a pleasant party, " said little Fanny. 

"Alf was a bad boy, " said Baby Sue. 

"It was very impolite in you to run away and leave me when I was yourpartner in the first quadrille! I do not see why you should havedisappointed me for anything that fellow could have said or done!"exclaimed Claudia. 

As all were speaking at once it was quite impossible to answer either, so Ishmael looked in embarrassment from one to the other. 

Bee had not spoken; she was spreading butter on thin slices of bread forher baby sisters; but now, seeing Ishmael's perplexity, she whispered toher mother:

"Call them off, mamma dear; they mean well; but it must hurt hisfeelings to be reminded of last night. "

Mrs. Middleton thought so too; so she arose and went forward and offeredIshmael her hand, saying:

"Good-morning, my boy; I am glad to see you; draw up your chair to thetable. Children, take your places. Mr. Middleton, we have been waitingfor you. "

"I know you have, my dear, but cold lunch don't grow colder by standing;if it does, so much the better this warm weather. "

"I have been taking a walk with my young friend here, " said thegentleman, as he took his seat. 

Ishmael followed his example, but not before he had quietly shaken handswith Beatrice. 

At luncheon Mr. Middleton spoke of his plan, that Ishmael should comeevery day during the holidays to pursue his studies as usual in theschoolroom. 

"You know he cannot read to any advantage in the little room whereHannah is always at work, " explained Mr. Middleton. 

"Oh, no! certainly not, " agreed his wife. 

The family were all pleased that Ishmael was still to come. 

"But, my boy, I think you had better not set in again until Monday. Afew days of mental rest is absolutely necessary after the hard readingof the last few months. So I enjoin you not to open a classbook beforenext Monday. "

As Mrs. Middleton emphatically seconded this move, our boy gave hispromise to refrain, and after luncheon was over he went and got hisbooks, took a respectful leave of his friends and returned home. 

"Aunty, " he said, as he entered the hut, where he found Hannah down onher knees scrubbing the floor, "what do you think? Mr. Middleton and hisfamily are going away from the Hall. They have had warning to quit atthe end of six months. "

"Ah, " said Hannah indifferently, going on with her work. 

"Yes; they leave on the first of February, and the owner of the place, young Mr. Herman Brudenell, you know, is coming on to live there forgood!"

"Ah!" cried Hannah, no longer indifferently, but excitedly, as she leftoff scrubbing, and fixed her keen black eyes upon the boy. 

"Yes, indeed! and Mr. Middleton--oh, he is so kind--says he will mentionme to Mr Herman Brudenell. "

"Oh! will he?" exclaimed Hannah, between her teeth. 

"Yes; and--Mr. Herman Brudenell is a very kind gentleman, is he not?"

"Very, " muttered Hannah. 

"You were very well acquainted with him, were you not?"

"Yes. "

"You answer so shortly, Aunt Hannah. Didn't you like young Mr. HermanBrudenell?"

"I--don't know whether I did or not; but, Ishmael, I can't scrub andtalk at the same time. Go out and chop me some wood; and then go and digsome potatoes, and beets, and cut a cabbage--a white-head mind! and thengo to the spring and bring a bucket of water; and make haste; but don'ttalk to me any more, if you can help it. "

Ishmael went out immediately to obey, and as the sound of his ax washeard Hannah muttered to herself:

"Herman Brudenell coming back to the Hall to live!" And she fell intodeep thought. 

Ishmael was intelligent enough to divine that his Aunt Hannah did notwish to talk of Mr. Herman Brudenell. 

"Some old grudge, connected with their relations as landlord and tenant, I suppose, " said Ishmael to himself. And as he chopped away at the woodhe resolved to avoid in her presence the objectionable name. 

The subject was not mentioned between the aunt and nephew again. Ishmaelassisted her in preparing their late afternoon meal of dinner and suppertogether, and then, when the room was made tidy and Hannah was seated ather evening sewing, Ishmael, for a treat, showed her his prize books; atwhich Hannah was so pleased, that she went to bed and dreamed that nightthat Ishmael had risen to the distinction of being a countryschoolmaster. 

The few days of mental rest that Mr. Middleton had enjoined upon theyoung student were passed by Ishmael in hard manual labor that did himgood. Among his labors, as he had now several valuable books, he fittedup some book shelves over the little low window of his loft, and underthe window he fixed a sloping board, that would serve him for awriting-desk. 

CHAPTER XXXIV. 

UNDER THE OLD ELM TREE. 

 She was his life, The ocean to the river of his thoughts, Which terminated all; upon a tone, A touch of hers, his blood would ebb and flow, And his cheek change tempestuously--his heart Unknowing of its cause of agony. 

 --_Byron_. 

On Monday morning he resumed his attendance at Brudenell Hall. He wasreceived very kindly by the family, and permitted to go up to the emptyschoolroom and take his choice among all the vacant seats, and to makethe freest use of the school library, maps, globes, and instruments. 

Ishmael moved his own desk up under one of the delightful windows, andthere he sat day after day at hard study. He did not trouble Mr. Middleton much; whenever it was possible to do so by any amount of laborand thought, he puzzled out all his problems and got over all hisdifficulties alone. 

He kept up the old school hours; punctually, and exactly at noon, helaid aside his books and went out on the lawn for an hour's recreationbefore lunch. 

There he often met his young friends, and always saw Claudia. It wasMiss Merlin's good pleasure to approve and encourage this poor butgifted youth; and she took great credit, to herself for hercondescension. She seemed to herself like some high and mighty princessgraciously patronizing some deserving young peasant. She often calledhim to her side; interested himself in his studies and in his health, praised his assiduity, but warned him not to confine himself too closelyto his books, as ambitious students had been known before now tosacrifice their lives to the pursuit of an unattainable fame. She toldhim that she meant to interest her father in his fortunes; and that shehoped in another year the judge would be able to procure for him thesituation of usher in some school, or tutor in some family. Although shewas younger than Ishmael, yet her tone and manner in addressing him wasthat of an elder as well as of a superior; and blended the highauthority of a young queen with the deep tenderness of a little mother. For instance, when he would come out at noon, she would often beckon himto her side, as she sat in her garden chair, under the shadow of thegreat elm tree, with a book of poetry or a piece of needlework in herhands. And when he came, she would make him sit down on the grass at herfeet, and she would put her small, white hand on his burning forehead, and look in his face with her beautiful, dark eyes, and murmur softly:

"Poor boy; your head aches; I know it does. You have been sitting underthe blazing sun in that south window of the schoolroom, so absorbed inyour studies that you forgot to close your shutters. "

And she would take a vial of eau-de-cologne from her pocket, pour aportion of it upon a handkerchief, and with her own fair hand bathe hisheated brows; at the same time administering a queenly reprimand, or amotherly caution, as pride or tenderness happened to predominate in hercapricious mood. 

This royal or maternal manner in this beautiful girl would not haveattracted the hearts of most men; but Ishmael, at the age of seventeen, was yet too young to feel that haughty pride of full-grown manhood whichrecoils from the patronage of women, and most of all from that of thewoman they love. 

To him, this proud and tender interest for his welfare added a greaterand more perilous fascination to the charms of his beautiful love; itdrew her nearer to him; it allowed him to worship her, though mutely; itpermitted him to sit at her feet, and in that attitude do silent homageto her as his queen; it permitted him to receive the cool touch of herfingers on his heated brow; to hear the soft murmur of her voice closeto his ear; to meet the sweet questioning of her eyes. 

And, oh, the happiness of sitting at her feet, under the green shadowsof that old elm tree! The light touch of her soft fingers on his browthrilled him to his heart's core; the sweet sound of her voice in hisears filled his soul with music; the earnest gaze of her beautiful darkeyes sent electric shocks of joy through all his sensitive frame. 

Ishmael was intensely happy. This earth was no longer a commonplaceworld, filled with commonplace beings; it was a paradise peopled withangels. 

Did Mr. And Mrs. Middleton fear no harm in the close intimacy of thisgifted boy of seventeen and this beautiful girl of sixteen?

Indeed, no! They believed the proud heiress looked upon, the peasant boymerely as her protégé, her pet, her fine, intelligent dog! theybelieved Claudia secure in her pride and Ishmael absorbed in hisstudies. They were three-quarters right, which is as near the correctthing as you can expect imperfect human nature to approach; that is, they were wholly right as to Claudia and half right as to Ishmael. Claudia was secure in her pride; and half of Ishmael's soul--the mentalhalf--was absorbed in his studies; his mind was given to his books; buthis heart was devoted to Claudia. And in this double occupation therewas no discord, but the most perfect harmony. 

But though Claudia, whom he adored, was his watchful patroness, Bee, whom he only loved, was his truest friend. Claudia would warn himagainst danger; but Bee would silently save him from it. While Claudiawould be administering a queenly rebuke to the ardent young student forexposing himself to a sunstroke by reading under the blazing sun in anopen south window, Bee, without saying a word, would go quietly into theschoolroom, close the shutters of the sunny windows, and open those ofthe shady ones, so that the danger might not recur in the afternoon. 

In September the school was regularly reopened for the reception of theday pupils. Their parents were warned, however, that this was to be thelast term; that the school must necessarily be broken up at Christmas, as the house must be given up on the first of February. The return ofthe pupils, although they filled the schoolroom during study hours, andmade the lawn a livelier scene during recess, did not in the leastdegree interrupt the intimacy of Ishmael and Claudia. He still sat ather feet beneath the green shadows of the old elm tree, often reading toher while she worked her crochet; or strumming upon his old guitar anaccompaniment to her song. For long ago the professor had taught Ishmaelto play, and loaned him the instrument. 

It is not to be supposed that Claudia's favor of Ishmael could bewitnessed by his companions without exciting their envy and dislike ofour youth. But the more strongly they evinced their disapproval of herpartiality for Ishmael, the more ostentatiously she displayed it. 

Many were the covert sneers leveled at "Nobody's Son. " And often Ishmaelfelt his heart swell, his blood boil, and his cheek burn at thesecowardly insults. And it was well for all concerned that the youth was"obedient" to that "heavenly vision" which had warned him, in these soretrials, not to ask himself--as had been his boyish custom--what Marion, Putnam, Jackson, or any of the "great battle-ax heroes" would have donein a similar crisis; but what Christ, the Prince of Peace, would havedone; for Ishmael knew that all these great historical warriors held the"bloody code of honor" that would oblige them to answer insult withdeath; but that the Saviour of the world "when reviled, reviled notagain"; and that he commended all his followers to do likewise, returning "good for evil, " "blessings for cursings. "

All this was very hard to do; and the difficulty of it finally sentIshmael to study his Bible with a new interest, to seek the mystery ofthe Saviour's majestic meekness. In the light of a new experience, heread the amazing story of the life, sufferings, and death of Christ. Oh, nothing in the whole history of mankind could approach this, for beauty, for sublimity, and for completeness; nothing had ever so warmed, inspired, and elevated his soul as this; this was perfect; answering allthe needs of his spirit. The great heroes and sages of history might bevery good and useful as examples and references in the ordinary trialsand temptations of life; but only Christ could teach him how to meet thegreat trial from the world without, where envy and hate assailed him; orhow to resist the dark temptations from the world within, in whose deepshadows rage and murder lurked! Henceforth the Saviour became his ownexemplar and the gospel his only guidebook. Such was the manner in whichIshmael was called of the Lord. He became proof against the mostenvenomed shafts of malice. The reflection: What would Christ have done?armed him with a sublime and invincible meekness and courage. 

CHAPTER XXXV. 

THE DREAM AND THE AWAKENING. 

 The lover is a god, --the ground He treads on is not ours; His soul by other laws is bound, Sustained by other powers; His own and that one other heart Form for himself a world apart. 

 --_Milnes_. 

Time went on. Autumn faded into winter: the flowers wore withered;the grass dried; the woods bare. Miss Merlin no longer sat under thegreen shadows of the old elm tree; there were no green shadows there;the tree was stripped of its leaves and seemed but the skeleton ofitself, and the snow lay around its foot. 

The season, far from interrupting the intimacy between the heiress andher favorite, only served to draw them even more closely together. Thiswas the way of it. At the noon recess all the pupils of the school wouldrush madly out upon the lawn to engage in the rough, healthful, andexciting game of snowballing each other--all except Claudia, who was fartoo fine a lady to enter into any such rude sport, and Ishmael, whoseattendance upon her own presence she would peremptorily demand. 

While all the others were running over each other in their haste to getout, Claudia would pass into the empty drawing room, and seating herselfin the deep easy chair, would call to her "gentleman in waiting, "saying:

"Come, my young troubadour, bring your guitar and sit down upon thiscushion at my feet and play an accompaniment to my song, as I sing andwork. "

And Ishmael, filled with joy, would fly to obey the royal mandate; andsoon seated at the beauty's feet, in the glow of the warm wood fire andin the glory of her heavenly presence, he would lose himself in adelicious dream of love and music. No one ever interrupted theirtête-à-tête. And Ishmael grew to feel that he belonged to his liegelady; that they were forever inseparate and inseparable. And thus hisdays passed in one delusive dream of bliss until the time came when hewas rudely awakened. 

One evening, as usual, he took leave of Claudia. It was a bitter coldevening, and she took off her own crimson Berlin wool scarf and with herown fair hands wound it around Ishmael's neck, and charged him to hastenhome, because she knew that influenza would be lying in wait to seizeany loitering pedestrian that night. 

Ishmael ran home, as happy as it was in the power of man to make him. How blest he felt in the possession of her scarf--her fine, soft, warmscarf, deliciously filled with the aroma of Claudia's own youth, beauty, and sweetness. He felt that he was not quite separated from her while hehad her scarf--her dear scarf, with the warmth and perfume of her ownneck yet within its meshes! That night he only unwound it from histhroat to fold it and lay it on his pillow that his cheek might restupon it while he slept--slept the sweetest sleep that ever visited hiseyes. 

Ah, poor, pale sleeper! this was the last happy night he was destined tohave for many weeks and months. 

In the morning he arose early as usual to hasten to school and--toClaudia. He wound her gift around his neck and set off at a brisk pace. The weather was still intensely cold; but the winter sky was clear andthe sunshine glittered "keen and bright" upon the crisp white snow. Ishmael hurried on and reached Brudenell Hall just in time to see alarge fur-covered sleigh, drawn by a pair of fine horses, shoot through, the great gates and disappear down the forest road. 

A death-like feeling, a strange spasm, as if a hand of ice had clutchedhis heart, caught away Ishmael's breath at the sight of that vanishingsleigh. He could not rationally account for this feeling; but soon as herecovered his breath he inquired of old Jovial, who stood gazing afterthe sleigh. 

"Who has gone away?"

"Miss Claudia, sir; her pa came after her last night--"

"Claudia--gone!" echoing Ishmael, reeling and supporting himself againstthe trunk of the bare old elm tree. 

"It was most unexpected, sir; mist'ess sat up most all night to see tothe packing of her clothes--"

"Gone--gone--Claudia gone!" breathed Ishmael, in a voice despairing, yetso low, that it did not interrupt the easy flow of Jovial's narrative. 

"But you see, sir, the judge, he said how he hadn't a day to lose, 'cause he'd have to be at Annapolis to-morrow to open his court--"

"Gone--gone!" wailed Ishmael, dropping his arms. 

"And 'pears the judge did write to warn master and mist'ess to get MissClaudia ready to go this morning; but seems like they never got theletter--"

"Oh, gone!" moaned Ishmael. 

--"Anyways, it was all, 'Quick! march!' and away they went. And the worddoes go around as, after the court term is over, the judge he means totake Miss Claudia over the seas to forrin parts to see the world. "

"Which--which road did they take, Jovial?" gasped Ishmael, striving hardto recover breath and strength and the power of motion. 

"Law, sir, the Baymouth road, to be sure! where they 'spects to take the'Napolis boat, which 'ill be a nigh thing if they get there in time tomeet it, dough dey has taken the sleigh an' the fast horses. "

Ishmael heard no more. Dropping his books, he darted out of the gate, and fled along the road taken by the travelers. Was it in the mad hopeof overtaking the sleigh? As well might he expect to overtake an expresstrain! No--he was mad indeed! maddened by the suddenness of hisbereavement; but not so mad as that; and he started after his flyinglove in the fierce, blind, passionate instinct of pursuit. A whirl ofwild hopes kept him up and urged him on--hopes that they might stop onthe road to water the horses, or to refresh themselves, or that theymight be delayed at the toll-gate to make change, or that some otherpossible or impossible thing might happen to stop their journey longenough for him to overtake them and see Claudia once more; to shakehands with her, bid her good-by, and receive from her at parting somelast word of regard--some last token of remembrance! This was now theonly object of his life; this was what urged him onward in that fearfulchase! To see Claudia once more--to meet her eyes--to clasp her hand--tohear her voice--to bid her farewell!

On and on he ran; toiling up hill, and rushing down dale; overturningall impediments that lay in his way; startling all the foot-passengerswith the fear of an escaped maniac! On and on he sped in his mad flight, until he reached the outskirts of the village. There a sharp pang andsudden faintness obliged him to stop and rest, grudging the few momentsrequired for the recovery of his breath. Then he set off again, and ranall the way into the village--ran down the principal street, and turneddown the one leading to the wharf. 

A quick, breathless glance told him all. The boat had left the shore, and was steaming down the bay. 

He ran down to the water's edge, stretching his arms out towards thereceding steamer, and with an agonizing cry of "Claudia! Claudia!" fellforward upon his face in a deep swoon. 

A crowd of villagers gathered around him. 

"Who is he?"

"What is the matter with him!"

"Is he ill?"

"Has he fainted?"

"Has he been hurt?"

"Has an accident happened?"

"Is there a doctor to be had?"

All these questions were asked in the same breath by the variousindividuals of the crowd that had collected around the insensible boy;but none seemed ready with an answer. 

"Is there no one here who can tell who he is?" inquired a tall, gray-haired, mild-looking man, stooping to raise the prostrate form. 

"Yes; it is Ishmael Worth!" answered Hamlin, the bookseller, who was anewcomer upon the scene. 

"Ishmael Worth? Hannah Worth's nephew?"

"Yes; that is who he is. "

"Then stand out of the way, friends; I will take charge of the lad, "said the gray-haired stranger, lifting the form of the boy in his arms, and gazing into his face. 

"He is not hurt; he is only in a dead faint, and I had better take himhome at once, " continued the old man, as he carried his burden to alight wagon that stood in the street in charge of a negro, and laid himcarefully on the cushions. Then he got in himself, and took the boy'shead upon his knees, and directed the negro to drive gently along theroad leading to the weaver's. And with what infinite tenderness thestranger supported the light form; with what wistful interest hecontemplated the livid young face. And so at an easy pace they reachedthe hill hut. 

CHAPTER XXXVI. 

DARKNESS. 

 With such wrong and woe exhausted, what I suffered and occasioned-- As a wild horse through a city, runs, with lightning in his eyes, And then dashing at a church's cold and passive wall impassioned, Strikes the death into his burning brain, and blindly drops and dies-- So I fell struck down before her! Do you blame me, friends, for weakness? 'Twas my strength of passion slew me! fell before her like a stone; Fast the dreadful world rolled from me, on its roaring wheels of blackness! When the light came, I was lying in this chamber--and alone. 

 --_E. B. Browning_. 

Hannah Worth was sitting over her great wood fire and busily engaged inneedlework when the door was gently pushed open and the gray-haired manentered, bearing the boy in his arms. 

Hannah looked calmly up, then threw down her work and started from herchair, exclaiming:

"Reuben Gray! you back again! you! and--who have you got there--Ishmael?Good Heavens! what has happened to the poor boy?"

"Nothing to frighten you, Hannah, my dear; he has fainted, I think, thatis all, " answered Reuben gently, as he laid the boy carefully upon thebed. 

"But, oh, my goodness, Reuben, how did it happen? where did you findhim?" cried Hannah, frantically seizing first one hand and then theother of the fainting boy, and clapping and rubbing them vigorously. 

"I picked him up on the Baymouth wharf about half an hour ago, Hannah, my dear, and--"

"The Baymouth wharf! that is out of all reason! Why it is not more thantwo hours since he started to go to Brudenell Hall, " exclaimed Hannah, as she violently rubbed away at the boy's hands. 

Reuben was standing patiently at the foot of the bed, with his hat inhis hands, and he answered slowly:

"Well, Hannah, I don't know how that might be; but I know I picked himup where I said. "

"But what caused all this, Reuben Gray? What caused it? that's what Iwant to know! can't you speak?" harshly demanded the woman, as she flewto her cupboard, seized a vinegar cruet, and began to bathe Ishmael'shead and face with its stimulating contents. 

"Well, Hannah, I couldn't tell exactly; but 'pears to me someone wentoff in the boat as he was a-pining after. "

"Who went off in the boat?" asked Hannah impatiently. 

"Law, Hannah, my dear, how can I tell? Why, there wasn't less thanthirty or forty passengers, more or less, went off in that boat!"

"What do I care how many restless fools went off in the boat? Tell meabout the boy!" snapped Hannah, as she once more ran to the cupboard, poured out a little precious brandy (kept for medicinal purposes) andcame and tried to force a teaspoonful between Ishmael's lips. 

"Hannah, woman, don't be so unpatient. Indeed, it wasn't my fault. Iwill tell you all I know about it. "

"Tell me, then. "

"I am going to. Well, you see, I had just taken some of the judge'sluggage down to the boat and got it well on, and the boat had juststarted, and I was just a-getting into my cart again when I see a youthcome a-tearin' down the street like mad, and he whips round the cornerlike a rush of wind, and streaks it down to the wharf and looks afterthe boat as if it was a-carrying off every friend he had upon the yeth;and then he stretches out both his arms and cries out aloud, and fallson his face like a tree cut down. And a crowd gathered, and someone saidhow the lad was your nephew, so I picked him up and laid him in my cartto bring him home. And I made Bob drive slow; and I bathed the boy'sface and hands with some good whisky, and tried to make him swallowsome; but it was no use. "

While Reuben spoke, Ishmael gave signs of returning consciousness, andthen suddenly opened his eyes and looked around him. 

"Drink this, my boy; drink this, my darling Ishmael, " said Hannah, raising his head with one hand while she held the brandy to his lipswith the other. 

Ishmael obediently drank a little and then sank back upon his pillow. Hegazed fixedly at Hannah for a few moments, and then suddenly threw hisarms around her neck, as she stooped over him, and cried out in a voicepiercing shrill with anguish:

"Oh, Aunt Hannah! she is gone; she is gone forever!"

"Who is gone, my boy?" asked Hannah sympathetically. 

"Claudia! Claudia!" he wailed, covering his convulsed face with hishands. 

"How, my ban upon Brudenell Hall and all connected with it!" exclaimedHannah bitterly, as the hitherto unsuspected fact of Ishmael's fatallove flashed upon her mind; "my blackest ban upon Brudenell Hall and allits hateful race! It was built for the ruin of me and mine! I was afool, a weak, wicked fool, ever to have allowed Ishmael to enter itsunlucky doors! My curse upon them!"

The boy threw up his thin hand with a gesture of deprecation. 

"Don't! don't! don't, Aunt Hannah! Every word you speak is a stabthrough my heart. " And the sentence closed with a gasp and a sob, and hecovered his face with his hands. 

"What can I do for him?" said Hannah, appealing to Reuben. 

"Nothing, my dear, but what you have done. Leave him alone to restquietly. It is easy to see that he has been very much shaken both inbody and hind; and perfect rest is the only thing as will help him, "answered Gray. 

Ishmael's hands covered his quivering face; but they saw that his bosomwas heaving convulsively. He seemed to be struggling valiantly to regaincomposure. Presently, as if ashamed of having betrayed his weakness, heuncovered his face and said, in a faltering and interrupted voice:

"Dear Aunt Hannah, I am so sorry that I have disturbed you; excuse me;and let me lie here for half an hour to recover myself. I do not wish tobe self-indulgent; but I am exhausted. I ran all the way from BrudenellHall to Baymouth to get--to see--to see--" His voice broke down witha sob, he covered his face with his hands, and shook as with an ague. 

"Never mind, my dear, don't try to explain; lie as long as you wish, andsleep if you can, " said Hannah. 

But Ishmael looked up again, and with recovered calmness, said:

"I will rest for half an hour, Aunt Hannah, no longer; and then I willget up and cut the wood, or do any work you want done. "

"Very well, my boy, " said Hannah, stooping and kissing him. Then shearranged the pillow, covered him up carefully, drew the curtains andcame away and left him. 

"He will be all right in a little while, Hannah, my dear, " said Reuben, as he walked with her to the fireplace. 

"Sit down there, Reuben, and tell me about yourself, and where you havebeen living all this time, " said Hannah, seating herself in herarm-chair and pointing to another. 

Reuben slowly took the seat and carefully deposited his hat on the floorby his side. 

"I am sorry I spoke so sharply to you about the lad, Reuben; it was athankless return for all your kindness in taking care of him andbringing him home; but indeed I am not thankless, Reuben; but I havegrown to be a cross old woman, " she said. 

"Have you, indeed, Hannah, my dear?" exclaimed Reuben, raising hiseyebrows in sincere astonishment and some consternation. 

"It appears to me that you might see that I have, " replied Hannahplainly. 

"Well, no; seems to me, my dear, you're the same as you allers was, bothas to looks and as to temper. "

"I feel that I am very much changed. And so are you, Reuben! How grayyour hair is!" she said, looking critically at her old admirer. 

"Gray! I believe you! Ain't it though?" exclaimed Reuben, smiling, andrunning his fingers through his blanched locks. 

"But you haven't told me all about yourself, yet; where you have beenliving; how you have been getting along, and what brought you back tothis part of the country, " said Hannah, with an air of deep interest. 

"Why, Hannah, my dear, didn't you know all how and about it?"

"No; I heard long ago, of course, that you had got a place as overseeron the plantation of some rich gentleman up in the forest; but that wasall; I never even heard the name of the place or the master. "

"Well, now, that beats all! Why, Hannah, woman, as soon as I gotsettled, I set down and writ you a letter, and all how and about it, andaxed you, if ever you changed your mind about what--about the--about ouraffairs, you know--to drop me a line and I'd come and marry you and thechild, right out of hand, and fetch you both to my new home. "

"I never got the letter. "

"See that, now! Everything, even the post, goes to cross a feller'slove! But Hannah, woman, if you had a-got the letter, would you a-calledme back?" asked Gray eagerly. 

"No, Reuben, certainly not, " said Hannah decidedly. 

"Then it is just as well you didn't get it, " sighed this most faithful, though most unfortunate of suitors. 

"Yes; just as well, Reuben, " assented Hannah; "but that fact does notlessen my interests in your fortunes, and as I never got the letter I amstill ignorant of your circumstances. "

"Well, Hannah, my dear, I'm thankful as you feel any interest in me atall; and I'll tell you everything. Let me see, what was it you waswanting to know, now? all about myself; where I was living; how I wasgetting along; and what fotch me back here; all soon told, Hannah, mydear. First about myself: You see, Hannah, that day as you slammed thedoor in my face I felt so distressed in my mind as I didn't care what onearth became of me; first I thought I'd just 'list for a soldier; then Ithought I'd ship for a sailor; last I thought I'd go and seek my fortun'in Californy; but then the idea of the girls having no protector butmyself hindered of me; hows'evar, anyways I made up my mind, as comewhat would I'd leave the neighborhood first opportunity; and so, soonafter, as I heard of a situation as overseer at Judge Merlin'splantation up in the forest of Prince George's County, I sets off andwalks up there, and offers myself for the place; and was so fort'nate asto be taken; so I comes back and moves my family, bag and baggage, upthere. Now as to the place where I live, it is called Tanglewood, and atangle it is, as gets more and more tangled every year of its life. Asto how I'm getting on, Hannah, I can't complain; for if I have to dovery hard work, I get very good wages. As to what brought me back to theneighborhood, Hannah, it was to do some business for the judge, and tobuy some stock for the farm. But there, my dear! that boy has slippedout, and is cutting the wood; I'll go and do it for him, " said Reuben, as the sound of Ishmael's ax fell upon his ears. 

Hannah arose and followed Gray to the door, and there before it stoodIshmael, chopping away at random, upon the pile of wood, his cheeksflushed with fever and his eyes wild with excitement. 

"Hannah, he is ill; he is very ill; he doesn't well know what he isabout, " said Reuben, taking the ax from the boy's hand. 

"Ishmael, Ishmael, my lad, come in; you are not well enough to work, "said Hannah anxiously. 

Ishmael yielded up the ax and suffered Reuben to draw him into thehouse. 

"It is only that I am so hot and dizzy and weak, Mr. Middleton; but I amsure I shall be able to do it presently, " said Ishmael apologetically, as he put his hand to his head and looked around himself in perplexity. 

"I'll tell you what, the boy is out of his head, Hannah, and it's mybelief as he's a going to have a bad illness, " said Reuben, as he guidedIshmael to the bed and laid him on it. 

"Oh, Reuben! what shall we do?" exclaimed Hannah. 

"I don't know, child! wait a bit and see. "

They had not long to wait; in a few hours Ishmael was burning with feverand raving with delirium. 

"This is a-gwine to be a bad job! I'll go and fetch a doctor, " saidReuben Gray, hurrying away for the purpose. 

Reuben's words proved true. It was a "bad job. " Severe study, mentalexcitement, disappointment and distress had done their work upon hisextremely sensitive organization, and Ishmael was prostrated byillness. 

We will not linger over the gloomy days that followed. The villagedoctor brought by Reuben was as skillful as if he had been thefashionable physician of a large city, and as attentive as if his pooryoung patient had been a millionaire. Hannah devoted herself with almostmotherly love to the suffering boy; and Reuben remained in theneighborhood and came every day to fetch and carry, chop wood and bringwater, and help Hannah to nurse Ishmael. And Hannah was absolutelyreduced to the necessity of accepting his affectionate services. Mr. Middleton, as soon as he heard of his favorite's illness, hurried to thehut to inquire into Ishmael's condition and to offer every assistance inhis power to render; and he repeated his visits as often as the greatpressure of his affairs permitted him to do. Ishmael's illness was longprotracted; Mr. Middleton's orders to vacate Brudenell Hall on or beforethe first day of February were peremptory; and thus it followed that thewhole family removed from the neighborhood before Ishmael was in acondition to bid them farewell. 

The day previous to their departure, however, Mr. And Mrs. Middleton, with Walter and Beatrice, came to take leave of him. As Mrs. Middletonstooped over the unconscious youth her tears fell fast and warm upon hisface, so that in his fever dream he murmured:

"Claudia, it is beginning to rain, let us go in. "

At this Beatrice burst into a flood of tears and was led away to thecarriage by her father. 

After the departure of the Middletons it was currently reported in theneighborhood that the arrival of Mr. Herman Brudenell was dailyexpected. Hannah became very much disturbed with an anxiety that was allthe more wearing because she could not communicate it to anyone. Theidea of remaining in the neighborhood with Mr. Brudenell, and beingsubjected to the chance of meeting him, was unsupportable to her; shewould have been glad of any happy event that might take her off to adistant part of the State, and she resolved, in the event of poorIshmael's death, to go and seek a home and service somewhere else. Reuben Gray stayed on; and in answer to all Hannah's remonstrances hesaid:

"It is of no use talking to me now, Hannah! You can't do without me, woman; and I mean to stop until the poor lad gets well or dies. "

But our boy was not doomed to die; the indestructible vitality, theirrepressible elasticity of his delicate and sensitive organization, bore him through and above his terrible illness, and he passed thecrisis safely and lived. After that turning point his recovery wasrapid. It was a mild, dry mid-day in early spring that Ishmael walkedout for the first time. He bent his steps to the old oak tree thatovershadowed his mother's grave, and seated himself there to enjoy thefresh air while he reflected. 

Ishmael took himself severely to task for what he called the blindness, the weakness, and the folly with which he had permitted himself to fallinto a hopeless, mad, and nearly fatal passion for one placed so highabove him that indeed he might as well have loved some "brightparticular star, " and hoped to win it. And here on the sacred turf ofhis mother's grave he resolved once for all to conquer this boyishpassion, by devoting himself to the serious business of life. 

Hannah and Reuben were left alone in the hut. 

"Now, Reuben Gray, " began Hannah, "no tongue can tell how much I feelyour goodness to me and Ishmael; but, my good man, you mustn't stay inthis neighborhood any longer; Ishmael is well and does not need you; andyour employer's affairs are neglected and do need you. So, Reuben, myfriend, you had better start home as soon as possible. "

"Well, Hannah, my dear, I think so too, and I have thought so for thelast week, only I did not like to hurry you, " said Reuben acquiescently. 

"Didn't like to hurry me, Reuben? how hurry me? I don't know what youmean, " said Hannah, raising her eyes in astonishment. 

"Why, I didn't know as you'd like to get ready so soon; or, indeed, whether the lad was able to bear the journey yet, " said Reuben calmlyand reflectively. 

"Reuben, I haven't the least idea of your meaning. "

"Why, law, Hannah, my dear, it seems to me it is plain enough; no womanlikes to be hurried at such times, and I thought you wouldn't like to beneither; I thought you would like a little time to get up some littlefinery; and also the boy would be the better for more rest before takingof a long journey; but hows'ever, Hannah, if you don't think all thesedelays necessary, why I wouldn't be the man to be a-making of them. Because, to tell you the truth, considering the shortness of life, Ithink the delays have been long enough; and considering our age, Ithink we have precious little time to lose. I'm fifty-one years of age, Hannah; and you be getting on smart towards forty-four; and if we evermean to marry in this world, I think it is about time, my dear. "

"Reuben Gray, is that what you mean?"

"Sartin, Hannah! You didn't think I was a-going away again without you, did you now?"

"And so that was what you meant, was it?"

"That was what I meant, and that was what I still mean, Hannah, mydear. "

"Then you must be a natural fool!" burst forth Hannah. 

"Now stop o' that, my dear! 'taint a bit of use! all them hard wordsmight o' fooled me years and years agone, when you kept me at such adistance that I had no chance of reading your natur'; but they can'tfool me now, as I have been six weeks in constant sarvice here, Hannah, and obsarving of you close. Once they might have made me think you hatedme; but now nothing you can say will make me believe but what you likeold Reuben to-day just as well as you liked young Reuben that day wefirst fell in love long o' one another at the harvest home. And as forme, Hannah, the Lord knows I have never changed towards you. We alwaysliked each other, Hannah, and we like each other still. So don't try todeceive yourself about it, for you can't deceive me!"

"Reuben Gray, why do you talk so to me?"

"Because it is right, dear. "

"I gave you your answer years ago. "

"I know you did, Hannah; because there were sartain circumstances, asyou chose to elewate into obstacles against our marriage; but now, Hannah, all these obstacles are removed. Nancy and Peggy married andwent to Texas years ago. And Kitty married and left me last summer. Sheand her husband have gone to Californy; where, they do tell me, thatlumps of pure gold lay about the ground as plenty as stones do aroundhere! Anyways, they've all gone! all the little sisters as I have workedfor, and cared for, and saved for--all gone, and left me alone in my oldage!"

"That was very ungrateful, and selfish, and cruel of them, Reuben! Theyshould have taken you with them! At least little Kitty and her husbandshould have done so, " said Hannah, with more feeling than she had yetbetrayed. 

"Law, Hannah, why little Kitty and her husband couldn't! Why, child, ittakes mints and mints of money to pay for a passage out yonder toCaliforny! and it takes nine months to go the v'y'ge--they have to goall around Cape--Cape Hoof, no, Horn--Cape Horn! I knowed it worsomethin' relating to cattle. Yes, Hannah--hundreds of dollars andmonths of time do it take to go to that gold region! and so, 'stead o'them being able to take me out, I had to gather up all my savings tohelp 'em to pay their own passage. "

"Poor Reuben! poor, poor Reuben!" said Hannah, with the tears springingto her eyes. 

"Thank you, thank you, dear; but I shall not be poor Reuben, if you willbe mine, " whispered Gray. 

"Reuben, dear, I would--indeed I would--if I were still young andgood-looking; but I am not so, dear Reuben; I am middle-aged and plain. "

"Well, Hannah, old sweetheart, while you have been growing older, have Ibeen going bac'ards and growing younger? One would think so to hear youtalk. No, Hannah! I think there is just about the same difference in ourages now as there was years ago; and besides, if you were young andhandsome, Hannah, I would never do such a wrong as to ask you to be thewife of a poor old man like me! It is the fitness of our ages andcircumstances, as well as our long attachment, that gives me the courageto ask you even at this late day, old friend, to come and cheer mylonely home. Will you do so, Hannah?"

"Reuben, do you really think that I could make you any happier than youare, or make your home any more comfortable than it is?" asked Hannah, in a low, doubting voice. 

"Sartain, my dear. "

"But, Reuben, I am not good-tempered like I used to be; I am very oftencross; and--"

"That is because you have been all alone, with no one to care for you, Hannah, my dear. You couldn't be cross, with me to love you, " saidReuben soothingly. 

"But, indeed, I fear I should; it is my infirmity; I am cross even withIshmael, poor dear lad. "

"Well, Hannah, even if you was to be, I shouldn't mind it much. I don'twant to boast, but I do hope as I've got too much manhood to be out ofpatience with women; besides, I aint easy put out, you know. "

"No, you good fellow; I never saw you out of temper in my life. "

"Thank you, Hannah! Then it's a bargain?"

"But, Reuben! about Ishmael?"

"Lord bless you, Hannah, why, I told you years ago, when the lad was ahelpless baby, that he should be as welcome to me as a son of my own;and now, Hannah, at his age, with his larnin', he'll be a perfecttreasure to me, " said Reuben, brightening up. 

"In what manner, Reuben?"

"Why, law, Hannah, you know I never could make any fist of reading, writing, and 'rithmetic; and so the keeping of the farm-books is justthe one torment of my life. Little Kitty used to keep them for me beforeshe was married (you know I managed to give the child a bit ofschooling); but since she have been gone they haven't been half kept, and if I hadn't a good memory of my own I shouldn't be able to give noaccount of nothing. Now, Ishmael, you know, could put all the books torights for me, and keep them to rights. "

"If that be so, it will relieve my mind very much, Reuben, " repliedHannah. 

The appearance of Ishmael's pale face at the door put an end to theconversation for the time being. And Reuben took up his hat anddeparted. 

That evening, after Reuben had bid them good-night, and departed to theneighbor's house where he slept, Hannah told Ishmael all about herengagement to Gray. And it was with the utmost astonishment the youthlearned they were all to go to reside on the plantation of JudgeMerlin--Claudia's father! Well! to live so near her house would make hisduty to conquer his passion only the more difficult, but he was stillresolved to effect his purpose. 

Having once given her consent, Hannah would not compromise Reuben'sinterest with his employer by making any more difficulties or delays. She spent the remainder of that week in packing up the few effectsbelonging to herself and Ishmael. The boy himself employed his time intransplanting rosebushes from the cottage-garden to his mother's grave, and fencing it around with a rude but substantial paling. On Sundaymorning Reuben and Hannah were married at the church; and on Monday theywere to set out for their new home. 

Early on Monday morning Ishmael arose and went out to take leave of hismother's grave; and, kneeling there, he silently renewed his vow torescue her name from reproach and give it to honor. 

Then he returned and joined the traveling party. 

Before the cottage door stood Reuben's light wagon, in which were packedthe trunks with their wearing apparel, the hamper with their luncheon, and all the little light effects which required care. Into this Grayplaced Hannah and Ishmael, taking the driver's seat himself. A heavierwagon behind this one contained all Hannah's household furniture, including her loom and wheel and Ishmael's home-made desk andbook-shelf, and in the driver's seat sat the negro man who had come downin attendance upon the overseer. 

The Professor of Odd Jobs stood in the door of the hut, with his hat inhis hand, waving adieu to the departing travelers. The professor hadcome by appointment to see them off and take the key of the hut to theoverseer at the Hall. 

The sun was just rising above the heights of Brudenell Hall and floodingall the vale with light. The season was very forward, and, although themonth was March, the weather was like that of April. The sky was of thatclear, soft, bright blue of early spring; the sun shone with dazzlingsplendor; the new grass was springing up everywhere, and was enameledwith early violets and snow-drops; the woods were budding with thetender green of young vegetation. Distant, sunny hills, covered withapple or peach orchards all in blossom, looked like vast gardens ofmammoth red and white rose trees. 

Even to the aged spring brings renewal of life, but to the young--noteven poets have words at command to tell what exhilaration, whatecstatic rapture, it brings to the young, who are also sensitive andsympathetic. 

Ishmael was all these; his delicate organization was susceptible ofintense enjoyment or suffering. He had never in his life been five milesfrom his native place; he had just risen from a sick-bed as from agrave; he was going to penetrate a little beyond his native round ofhills, and see what was on the other side; the morning was young, theseason was early, the world was fresh; this day seemed a new birth toIshmael; this journey a new start in his life; he intensely enjoyed itall; to him all was delightful: the ride through the beautiful, green, blossoming woods; the glimpses of the blue sky through the quiveringupper leaves; the shining of the sun; the singing of the birds; thefragrance of the flowers. 

To him the waving trees seemed bending in worship, the birds trillinghymns of joy, and the flowers wafting offerings of incense! There aretimes when earth seems heaven and all nature worshipers. Ishmael wasdivinely happy; even the lost image of Claudia reappeared now surroundedwith a halo of hope, for to-day aspirations seemed prophecies, willseemed power, and all things possible. And not on Ishmael alone beamedthe blessed influence of the spring weather. Even Hannah's care-wornface was softened into contentment and enjoyment. As for Reuben's honestphiz, it was a sight to behold in its perfect satisfaction. Even thenegro driver of the heavy wagon let his horses take their time as heraised his ear to catch some very delicate trill in a bird's song, orturned his head to inhale the perfume from some bank of flowers. 

Onward they journeyed at their leisure through all that glad morninglandscape. 

At noon they stopped at a clearing around a cool spring in the woods, and while the negro fed and watered the horses, they rested andrefreshed themselves with a substantial luncheon, and then strolledabout through the shades until "Sam" had eaten his dinner, re-packed thehamper, and put the horses to the wagons again. And then they allreturned to their seats and recommenced their journey. 

On and on they journeyed through the afternoon; deeper and deeper theydescended into the forest as the sun declined in the west. When it wason the edge of the horizon, striking long golden lines through theinterstices of the woods, Hannah grew rather anxious, and she spoke up:

"It seems to me, Reuben, that we have come ten miles since we saw ahouse or a farm. "

"Yes, my dear. We are now in the midst of the old forest of PrinceGeorge's, and our home is yet about five miles off. But don't be afraid, Hannah, woman; you have got me with you, and we will get home beforemidnight. "

"I am only thinking of the runaway negroes, Reuben; they all take refugein these thick woods, you know; and they are a very desperate gang;their hands against everybody and everybody's hands against them, youmay say. "

"True, Hannah; they are desperate enough, for they have everything tofear and nothing to hope, in a meeting with most of the whites; butthere is no danger to us, child. "

"I don't know; they murdered a harmless peddler last winter, andattacked a peaceable teamster this spring. "

"Still, my dear, there is no danger; we have a pair of double-barreledpistols loaded, and also a blunderbuss; and we are three men, and youare as good as a fourth; so don't be afraid. "

Hannah was silenced, if not reassured. 

They journeyed on at a rate as fast as the rather tired horses could beurged to make. When the sun had set it grew dark, very dark in theforest. There was no moon; and although it was a clear, starlight night, yet that did not help them much. They had to drive very slowly andcarefully to avoid accidents, and it was indeed midnight when they droveup to the door of Hannah's new home. It was too dark to see more of itthan that it was a two-storied white cottage with a vine-clad porch, andthat it stood in a garden on the edge of the wood. 

CHAPTER XXXVII. 

THE NEW HOME. 

 It is a quiet picture of delight, The humble cottage, hiding from the sun In the thick woods. You see it not till then, When at its porch. Rudely, but neatly wrought, Four columns make its entrance; slender shafts, The rough bark yet upon them, as they came From the old forest. Prolific vines Have wreathed them well and half obscured the rinds Original, that wrap them. Crowding leaves Or glistening green, and clustering bright flowers Of purple, in whose cups, throughout the day, The humming bird wantons boldly, wave around And woo the gentle eye and delicate touch. This is the dwelling, and 'twill be to them Quiet's especial temple. 

 --_W. G. Simms_. 

"Welcome home, Hannah! welcome home, dearest woman! No more hard worknow, Hannah! and no more slaving at the everlasting wheel and loom!Nothing to do but your own pretty little house to keep, and your owntidy servant girl to look after! And no more anxiety about the future, Hannah; for you have me to love you and care for you! Ah, dear wife!this is a day I have looked forward to through all the gloom and troubleof many years. Thank God, it has come at last, more blessed than I everhoped it would be, and I welcome you home, my wife!" said Reuben Gray, as he lifted his companion from the wagon, embraced her, and led herthrough the gate into the front yard. 

"Oh, you dear, good Reuben, what a nice, large house this is! so muchbetter than I had any reason to expect, " said Hannah, in surprise anddelight. 

"You'll like it better still by daylight, my dear, " answered Gray. 

"How kind you are to me, dear Reuben. "

"It shall always be my greatest pleasure to be so, Hannah. "

A negro girl at this moment appeared at the door with a light, and thehusband and wife entered the house. 

Ishmael sprang down from his seat, stretched his cramped limbs, andgazed about him with all the curiosity and interest of a stranger in astrange scene. 

The features of the landscape, as dimly discerned by starlight, weresimple and grand. 

Behind him lay the deep forest from which they had just emerged. On itsedge stood the white cottage, surrounded by its garden. Before him laythe open country, sloping down to the banks of a broad river, whose darkwaves glimmered in the starlight. 

So this was Judge Merlin's estate--and Claudia's birthplace!

"Well, Ishmael, are you waiting for an invitation to enter? Why, you areas welcome as Hannah herself, and you couldn't be more so!" exclaimedthe hearty voice of Reuben Gray, as he returned almost immediately aftertaking Hannah in. 

"I know it, Uncle Reuben. You are very good to me; and I do hope to makemyself very useful to you, " replied the boy. 

"You'll be a fortun' to me, lad--an ample fortun' to me! But why don'tyou go in out of the midnight air? You ain't just as strong as Samson, yet, though you're agwine to be, " said Gray cheerily. 

"I only stopped to stretch my limbs, and--to help in with the luggage, "said Ishmael, who was always thoughtful, practical, and useful, and whonow stopped to load himself with Hannah's baskets and bundles beforegoing into the house. 

"Now, then, Sam, " said Gray, turning to the negro, "look sharp there!Bring in the trunks and boxes from the light wagon; take the furniturefrom the heavy one, and pile it in the shed, where it can stay untilmorning; put both on 'em under cover, feed and put up the horses; andthen you can go to your quarters. "

The negro bestirred himself to obey these orders, and Reuben Gray andIshmael entered the cottage garden. 

They passed up a gravel walk bordered each side with lilac bushes, andentered by a vine-shaded porch into a broad passage, that ran throughthe middle of the house from the front to the back door. 

"There are four large rooms on this floor, Ishmael, and this is thefamily sitting room, " said Gray, opening a door on his right. 

It was a very pleasant front room, with a bright paper on its walls, agay homespun carpet on the floor; pretty chintz curtains at the twofront windows; chintz covers of the same pattern on the two easy-chairsand the sofa; a bright fire burning in the open fireplace, and a neattea-table set out in the middle of the floor. 

But Hannah was nowhere visible. 

"She has gone in her room, Ishmael, to take off her bonnet; it is theother front one across the passage, just opposite to this; and as sheseems to be taking of her time, I may as well show you your'n, Ishmael. Just drop them baskets down anywhere, and come with me, my lad, " saidGray, leading the way into the passage and up the staircase to thesecond floor. Arrived there, he opened a door, admitting himself and hiscompanion into a chamber immediately over the sitting-room. 

"This is your'n, Ishmael, and I hope as you'll find it comfortable andmake yourself at home, " said Reuben, hastily, as he introduced Ishmaelto this room. 

It was more rudely furnished than the one below. There was no carpetexcept the strip laid down by the bedside; the bed itself was veryplain, and covered with a patchwork quilt; the two front windows wereshaded with dark green paper blinds; and the black walnut bureau, washstand, and chairs were very old. Yet all was scrupulously clean; andeverywhere were evidences that the kindly care of Reuben Gray had takenpains to discover Ishmael's habits and provide for his necessities. Forinstance, just between the front windows stood an old-fashioned piece offurniture, half book-case and half writing-desk, and wholly convenient, containing three upper shelves well filled with books, a drawer full ofstationery, and a closet for waste paper. 

Ishmael walked straight up to this. 

"Why, where did you get this escritoire, and all these books, UncleReuben?" he inquired, in surprise. 

"Why, you see, Ishmael, the screwtwar, as you call it, was among theold furnitur' sent down from the mansion-house here, to fit up thisplace when I first came into it; you see, the housekeeper up there sendsthe cast-off furniture to the overseer, same as she sends the cast-offfinery to the niggers. "

"But the books, Uncle Reuben; they are all law books, " said the boy, examining them. 

"Exactly; and that's why I was so fort'nate as to get 'em. You see, Iwas at the sale at Colonel Mervin's to see if I could pick up anythingnice for Hannah; and I sees a lot of books sold--laws! why, the storybooks all went off like wildfire; but when it come to these, nobodydidn't seem to want 'em. So I says to myself: These will do to fill upthe empty shelves in the screwtwar, and I dare say as our Ishmael wouldvally them. So I up and bought the lot for five dollars; and sent 'em uphere by Sam, with orders to put 'em in the screwtwar, and move thescrewtwar out'n the sitting room into this room, as I intended for you. "

"Ah, Uncle Reuben, how good you are to me! Everybody is good to me. "

"Quite nat'rel, Ishmael, since you are useful to everybody. And now, mylad, I'll go and send Sam up with your box. And when you have freshed upa bit you can come down to supper, " said Gray, leaving Ishmael inpossession of his room. 

In a few minutes after the negro Sam brought in the box that containedall Ishmael's worldly goods. 

"Missus Gray say how the supper is all ready, sir, " said the man, setting down the box. 

As Ishmael was also quite ready, he followed the negro downstairs intothe sitting room. 

Hannah was already in her seat at the head of the table; while behindher waited a neat colored girl. Reuben stood at the back of his ownchair at the foot of the table, waiting for Ishmael before seatinghimself. When the boy took his own place, Reuben asked a blessing, andthe meal commenced. The tired travelers did ample justice to the hotcoffee, broiled ham and eggs and fresh bread and butter before them. 

After supper they separated for the night. 

Ishmael went up to his room and went to bed, so very tired that his headwas no sooner laid upon his pillow than his senses were sunk in sleep. 

He was awakened by the caroling of a thousand birds. He started up, alittle confused at first by finding himself in a strange room; but asmemory quickly returned he sprang from his bed and went and drew up hisblind and looked out from his window. 

It was early morning; the sun was just rising and flooding the wholelandscape with light. A fine, inspiring scene lay before him--orchardsof apple, peach, and cherry trees in full blossom; meadows of white andred clover; fields of wheat and rye, in their pale green hue of earlygrowth; all spreading downwards towards the banks of the mighty Potomacthat here in its majestic breadth seemed a channel of the sea; while faraway across the waters, under the distant horizon, a faint blue linemarked the southern shore. 

Sailing up and down the mighty river were ships of all nations, craft ofevery description, from the three-decker East India merchantman, goingor returning from her distant voyage, to the little schooner-riggedfishermen trading up and down the coast. These were the sights. Thesongs of birds, the low of cattle, the hum of bees, and the murmur ofthe water as it washed the sands--these were the sounds. All the joyouslife of land, water, and sky seemed combined at this spot and visiblefrom this window. 

"This is a pleasant place to live in; thank the Lord for it!" saidIshmael fervently, as he stood gazing from the window. Not long, however, did the youth indulge his love of nature; he turned away, washed and dressed himself quickly and went downstairs to see if hecould be useful. 

The windows were open in the sitting room, which was filled with therefreshing fragrance of the lilacs. The breakfast table was set; andPhillis, the colored girl, was bringing in the coffee. Almost at thesame moment Hannah entered from the kitchen and Reuben from the garden. 

"Good-morning, Ishmael!" said Reuben gayly. "How do you like Woodside?Woodside is the name of our little home, same as Tanglewood is the nameof the judge's house, a half a mile back in the forest, you know. How doyou like it by daylight?"

"Oh, very much, indeed, uncle. Don't you like it, Aunt Hannah? Isn't itpleasant?" exclaimed the youth, appealing to Mrs. Gray. 

"Very pleasant, indeed, Ishmael!" she said. "Ah, Reuben, " she continued, turning to her husband, "you never let me guess what a delightful homeyou were bringing me to! I had no idea but that it was just like thecottages of other overseers that I have known--a little house of two orthree small rooms. "

"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Gray, "I knew you too well, Hannah! I knew if Ihad let you know how well off I was, you would never have taken me; yourpride would have been up in arms and you would have thought besides ashow I was comfortable enough without you, which would have been an ideeas I never could have got out of your head! No, Hannah, I humored yourpride, and let you think as how you were marrying of a poor, miserable, desolate old man, as would be apt to die of neglect and privations ifyou didn't consent to come and take care of him. And then I comfortedmyself with thinking what a pleasant surprise I had in store for youwhen I should fetch you here. Enjoy yourself, dear woman! for thereisn't a thing as I have done to this house I didn't do for your sake!"

"But, Reuben, how is it that you have so much better a house than othermen of your station ever have?"

"Well, Hannah, my dear, it is partly accident and partly design in thejudge. You see, this house used to be the mansion of the planterstheirselves, until the present master, when he was first married, builtthe great house back in the woods, and then, 'stead of pulling this onedown, he just 'pointed it to be the dwelling of the overseer; for it isthe pleasure of the judge to make all his people as comfortable as it ispossible for them to be, " answered Reuben. As he spoke, Phillis placedthe last dish upon the table, and they all took their seats andcommenced breakfast. 

As soon as the meal was over, Ishmael said:

"Now, Uncle Reuben, if you will give me those farm books you werewanting me to arrange, I will make a commencement. "

"No, you won't, Ishmael, my lad. You have worked yourself nearly todeath this winter and spring, and now, please the Lord, you shall do nomore work for a month. When I picked you up for dead that day, Ipromised the Almighty Father to be a father to you; so, Ishmael, youmust regard me as such, when I tell you that you are to let the booksalone for a whole month longer, until your health is restored. So justget your hat and come with us; I am going to show your aunt over theplace. "

Ishmael smiled and obeyed. And all three went out together. And oh! withhow much pride Reuben displayed the treasures of her little place tohis long-loved Hannah. He showed her her cows and pigs and sheep; andher turkeys and geese and hens; and her beehives and garden and orchard. 

"And this isn't all, either, Hannah, my dear! We can have as much as wewant for family use, of all the rare fruits and vegetables from thegreenhouses and hotbeds up at Tanglewood; and, besides that, we have thefreedom of the fisheries and the oyster beds, too; so you see, my dear, you will live like any queen! Thank the Lord!" said Reuben, reverentlyraising his hat. 

"And oh, Reuben, to think that you should have saved all this happinessfor me, poor, faded, unworthy me!" sighed his wife. 

"Why, law, Hannah, who else should I have saved it for but my own dearold sweetheart? I never so much as thought of another. "

"With all these comforts about you, you might have married some bloomingyoung girl. "

"Lord, dear woman, I ha'n't much larnin', nor much religion, more's thepity; but I hope I have conscience enough to keep me from doing anyyoung girl so cruel a wrong as to tempt her to throw away her youth andbeauty on an old man like me; and I am sure I have sense enough toprevent me from doing myself so great an injustice as to buy a youngwife, who, in the very natur' of things, would be looking for'ard to mydeath as the beginning of her life; for I've heard as how the very lifeof a woman is love, and if the girl-wife cannot love her oldhusband--Oh, Hannah, let us drop the veil--the pictur' is too sickeningto look at. Such marriages are crimes. Ah, Hannah, in the way ofsweethearting, age may love youth, but youth can't love age. And anotherthing I am sartin' sure of--as a young girl is a much more delicatecre'tur' than a young man, it must be a great deal harder for her tomarry an old man than it would be for him to marry an old woman, thougheither would be horrible. "

"You seem to have found this out somehow, Reuben. "

"Well, yes, my dear; it was along of a rich old fellow, hereaway, asfell in love with my little Kitty's rosy cheeks and black eyes, andwanted to make her Mrs. Barnabas Winterberry. And I saw how that girlwas at the same time tempted by his money and frightened by his age; andhow in her bewitched state, half-drawn and half-scared, she flutteredabout him, for all the world like a humming-bird going right into thejaws of a rattlesnake. Well, I questioned little Kitty, and she answeredme in this horrid way--'Why, brother, he must know I can't love him; forhow can I? But still he teases me to marry him, and I can do that; andwhy shouldn't I, if he wants me to?' Then in a whisper--'You know, brother, it wouldn't be for long; because he is ever so old, and hewould soon die; and then I should be a rich young widow, and have mypick and choose out of the best young men in the country side. ' Such, Hannah, was the evil state of feeling to which that old man's courtshiphad brought my simple little sister! And I believe in my soul it is thenatural state of feeling into which every young girl falls who marriesan old man. "

"That is terrible, Reuben. "

"Sartinly it is. "

"What did you say to your sister?"

"Why, I didn't spare the feelings of little Kitty, nor her dotingsuitor's nyther, and that I can tell you! I talked to little Kitty likea father and mother, both; I told her well what a young traitress shewas a-planning to be; and how she was fooling herself worse than she wasdeceiving her old beau, who had got into the whit-leathar age, and wouldbe sartin' sure to live twenty-five or thirty years longer, till shewould be an old woman herself, and I so frightened her, by telling herthe plain truth in the plainest words, that she shrank from seeing herold lover any more, and begged me to send him about his business. And Idid, too, 'with a flea in his ear, ' as the saying is; for I repeated tohim every word as little Kitty had said to me, as a warning to him forthe futur' not to go tempting any more young girls to marry him for hismoney and then wish him dead for the enjoyment of it. "

"I hope it did him good. "

"Why, Hannah, he went right straight home, and that same day married hisfat, middle-aged housekeeper, who, to tell the solemn truth, he ought tohave married twenty years before! And as for little Kitty, thank Heaven!she was soon sought as a wife by a handsome young fellow, who was suitedto her in every way, and who really did love her and win her love; andthey were married and went to Californy, as I told you. Well, after Iwas left alone, the neighboring small farmers with unprovided daughters, seeing how comfortable I was fixed, would often say to me--'Gray, youought to marry. ' 'Gray, why don't you marry?' 'Gray, your nice littleplace only needs one thing to make it perfect, a nice little wife. ' 'Whydon't you drop in and see the girls some evening, Gray? They wouldalways be glad to see you. ' And all that. I understood it all, Hannah, my dear; but I didn't want any young girls who would marry me only for ahome. And, besides, the Lord knows I never thought of any woman, youngor old, except yourself, who was my first love and my only one, andwhose whole life was mixed up with my own, as close as ever warp andwoof was woven in your webs, Hannah. "

"You have been more faithful to me than I deserved, Reuben; but I willtry to make you happy, " said Hannah, with much emotion. 

"You do make me happy, dear, without trying. And now where is Ishmael?"inquired Reuben, who never in his own content forgot the welfare ofothers. 

Ishmael was walking slowly and thoughtfully at some distance behindthem. Reuben called after him:

"Walk up, my lad. We are going in to dinner now; we dine at noon, youknow. "

Ishmael, who had lingered behind from the motives of delicacy thatwithheld him from intruding on the confidential conversation of thenewly-married pair, now quickened his steps and joined them, saying, with a smile:

"Uncle Reuben, when you advised me not to study for a whole month youdid not mean to counsel me to rust in idleness for four long weeks? Imust work, and I wish you would put me to that which will be the mostuseful to you. "

"And most benefital to your own health, my boy! What would you say tofishing? Would that meet your wishes?"

"Oh, I should like that very much, if I could really be of use in thatway, Uncle Reuben, " said the youth. 

"Why, of course you could; now I'll tell you what you can do; you can gothis afternoon with Sam in the sailboat as far down the river as SilverSands, where he hopes to hook some fine rock fish. Would that meet yourviews?"

"Exactly, " laughed Ishmael, as his eyes danced with the eagerness ofyouth for the sport. 

They went into the house, where Phillis had prepared a nice dinner, ofbacon and sprouts and apple dumplings, which the whole party relished. 

Afterwards Ishmael started on his first fishing voyage with Sam. Andthough it was a short one, it had for him all the charms of noveltyadded to the excitement of sport, and he enjoyed the excursionexcessively. The fishing was very successful, and they filled theirlittle boat and got back home by sunset. At supper Ishmael gave a fullaccount of the expedition and received the hearty congratulations ofReuben. And thus ended the holiday of their first day at home. 

The next morning Reuben Gray went into the fields to resume hisoversight of his employer's estate. 

Hannah turned in to housework, and had all the furniture she had broughtfrom the hill hut moved into the cottage and arranged in one of theempty rooms upstairs. 

Ishmael, forbidden to study, employed himself in useful manual labor inthe garden and in the fields. 

And thus in cheerful industry passed the early days of spring. 

CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

ISHMAEL'S STRUGGLES

 Yet must my brow be paler! I have vowed To clip it with the crown that shall not fade When it is faded. Not in vain ye cry, Oh, glorious voices, that survive the tongue From whence was drawn your separate sovereignty, For I would stand beside you!

 --_E. B. Browning_. 

Ishmael continued his work, yet resumed his studies. He managed to doboth in this way--all the forenoon he delved in the garden; all theafternoon he went over the chaotic account-books of Reuben Gray, tobring them into order; and all the evening he studied in his own room. He kept up his Greek and Latin. And he read law. 

No time to dream of Claudia now. 

One of the wisest of our modern philosophers says that we are sure tomeet with the right book at the right time. Now whether it were chance, fate, or Providence that filled the scanty shelves of the old escritoirewith a few law books, is not known; but it is certain that theirpresence there decided the career of Ishmael Worth. 

As a young babe, whose sole object in life is to feed, pops everythingit can get hold of into its mouth, so this youthful aspirant, whosemaster-passion was the love of learning, read everything he could layhis hands on. Prompted by that intellectual curiosity which everstimulated him to examine every subject that fell under his notice, Ishmael looked into the law books. They were mere text-books, probablythe discarded property of some young student of the Mervin family, whohad never got beyond the rudiments of the profession; but had abandonedit as a "dry study. "

Ishmael did not find it so, however. The same ardent soul, strong mind, and bright spirit that had found "dry history" an inspiring heroic poem, "dry grammar" a beautiful analysis of language, now found "dry law" theintensely interesting science of human justice. Ishmael read diligently, for the love of his subject!--at first it was only for the love of hissubject, but after a few weeks of study he began to read with a fixedpurpose--to become a lawyer. Of course Ishmael Worth was no longerunconscious of his own great intellectual power; he had measured himselfwith the best educated youth of the highest rank, and he had foundhimself in mental strength their master. So when he resolved to become alawyer, he felt a just confidence that he should make a very able one. Of course, with his clear perceptions and profound reflections he sawall the great difficulties in his way; but they did not dismay him. Hiswill was as strong as his intellect, and he knew that, combined, theywould work wonders, almost miracles. 

Indeed, without strength of will, intellect is of very little effect;for if intellect is the eye of the soul, will is the hand; intellect iswisdom, but will is power; intellect may be the monarch, but will is theexecutive minister. How often we see men of the finest intellect fail inlife through weakness of will! How often also we see men of verymoderate intellect succeed through strength of will!

In Ishmael Worth intellect and will were equally strong. And when inthat poor chamber he set himself down to study law, upon his ownaccount, with the resolution to master the profession and to distinguishhimself in it, he did so with the full consciousness of the magnitude ofthe object and of his own power to attain it. Day after day he workedhard, night after night he studied diligently. 

Ishmael did not think this a hardship; he did not murmur over hispoverty, privations, and toil; no, for his own bright and beautifulspirit turned everything to light and loveliness. He did not, indeed, inthe pride of the Pharisee, thank God that he was not as other men; buthe did feel too deeply grateful for the intellectual power bestowed uponhim, to murmur at the circumstances that made it so difficult tocultivate that glorious gift. 

One afternoon, while they were all at tea, Reuben Gray said:

"Now, Ishmael, my lad, Hannah and me are going over to spend the eveningat Brown's, who is overseer at Rushy Shore; and you might's well go withus; there's a nice lot o' gals there. What do you say?"

"Thank you, Uncle Reuben, but I wish to read this evening, " said theyouth. 

"Now, Ishmael, what for should you slave yourself to death?"

"I don't, uncle. I work hard, it is true; but then, you know, youth isthe time for work, and besides I like it, " said the young fellowcheerfully. 

"Well, but after hoeing and weeding and raking and planting in thegarden all the morning, and bothering your brains over them distracting'count books all the afternoon, what's the good of your going and poringover them stupid books all the evening?"

"You will see the good of it some of these days, Uncle Reuben, " laughedIshmael. 

"You will wear yourself out before that day comes, my boy, if you arenot careful, " answered Reuben. 

"I always said the fetched books would be his ruin, and now I know it, "put in Hannah. 

Ishmael laughed good-humoredly; but Reuben sighed. 

"Ishmael, my lad, " he said, "if you must read, do, pray, read in theforenoon, instead of working in the garden. "

"But what will become of the garden?" inquired Ishmael, with gravity. 

"Oh, I can put one of the nigger boys into it. "

"And have to pay for his time and not have the work half done at last. "

"Well, I had rather it be so, than you should slave yourself to death. "

"Oh, but I do not slave myself to death! I like to work in the garden, and I am never happier than when I am engaged there; the garden isbeautiful, and the care of it is a great pleasure as well as a greatbenefit to me; it gives me all the outdoor exercise and recreation thatI require to enable me to sit at my writing or reading all the rest ofthe day. "

"Ah, Ishmael, my lad, who would think work was recreation except you?But it is your goodness of heart that turns every duty into a delight, "said Reuben Gray; and he was not very far from the truth. 

"It is his obstinacy as keeps him everlasting a-working himself todeath! Reuben Gray, Ishmael Worth is one of the obstinatest boys thatever you set your eyes on! He has been obstinate ever since he was ababy, " said Hannah angrily. And her mind reverted to that old time whenthe infant Ishmael would live in defiance of everybody. 

"I do believe as Ishmael would be as firm as a rock in a good cause; butI don't believe that he could be obstinate in a bad one, " said Reubendecidedly. 

"Yes, he could! else why does he persist in staying home this eveningwhen we want him to go with us?" complained Hannah. 

Now, strength of will is not necessarily self-will. Firmness of purposeis not always implacability. The strong need not be violent in order toprove their strength. And Ishmael, firmly resolved as he was to devoteevery hour of his leisure to study, knew very well when to make anexception to his rule, and sacrifice his inclinations to his duty. So heanswered:

"Aunt Hannah, if you really desire me to go with you, I will do so ofcourse. "

"I want you to go because I think you stick too close to your books, youstubborn fellow; and because I know you haven't been out anywhere forthe last two months; and because I believe it would do you good to go, "said Mrs. Gray. 

"All right, Aunt Hannah. I will run upstairs and dress, " laughedIshmael, leaving the tea-table. 

"And be sure you put on your gold watch and chain, " called out Hannah. 

Hannah also arose and went to her room to change her plain brown calicogown for a fine black silk dress and mantle that had been Reuben Gray'snuptial present to her, and a straw bonnet trimmed with blue. 

In a few minutes Ishmael, neatly attired, joined her in the parlor. 

"Have you put on your watch, Ishmael?"

"Yes, Aunt Hannah; but I'm wearing it on a guard. I don't like to wearthe chain; it is too showy for my circumstances. You wear it, AuntHannah; and always wear it when you go out; it looks beautiful overyour black silk dress, " said Ishmael, as he put the chain around Mrs. Gray's neck and contemplated the effect. 

"What a good boy you are!" said Hannah; but she would not have been awoman if she had not been pleased with the decoration. 

Reuben Gray came in, arrayed in his Sunday suit, and smiled to see howsplendid Hannah was, and then drawing his wife's arm proudly within hisown, and calling Ishmael to accompany them, set off to walk a milefarther up the river and spend a festive evening with his brotheroverseer. They had a pleasant afternoon stroll along the pebbly beach ofthe broad waters. They sauntered at their leisure, watching the shipssail up or down the river; looking at the sea-fowl dart up from thereeds and float far away; glancing at the little fish leaping up anddisappearing in the waves; and pausing once in a while to pick up apretty shell or stone; and so at last they reached the cottage of theoverseer Brown, which stood just upon the point of a little promontorythat jutted out into the river. 

They spent a social evening with the overseer and his wife and theirhalf a dozen buxom boys and girls. And about ten o'clock they walkedhome by starlight. 

Twice a week Reuben Gray went up the river to a little waterside hamletcalled Shelton to meet the mail. Reuben's only correspondent was hismaster, who wrote occasionally to make inquiries or to give orders. Theday after his evening out was the regular day for Reuben to go to thepost office. 

So immediately after breakfast Reuben mounted the white cob which heusually rode and set out for Shelton. 

He was gone about two hours, and returned with a most perplexedcountenance. Now "the master's" correspondence had always been a greatbother to Reuben. It took him a long time to spell out the letters and alonger time to indite the answers. So the arrival of a letter was alwayssure to unsettle him for a day or two. Still, that fact did not accountfor the great disturbance of mind in which he reached home and enteredthe family sitting-room. 

"What's the matter, Reuben? Any bad news?" anxiously inquired Hannah. 

"N-n-o, not exactly bad news; but a very bad bother, " said Gray, sittingdown in the big arm-chair and wiping the perspiration from his heatedface. 

"What is it, Reuben?" pursued Hannah. 

"Where's Ishmael?" inquired Gray, without attempting to answer herquestion. 

"Working in the garden, of course. But why can't you tell me what's thematter?"

"Botheration is the matter, Hannah, my dear. Just go call Ishmael tome. "

Hannah left the house to comply with his request, and Reuben sat andwiped his face and pondered over his perplexities. Reuben had latelygiven to rely very much upon Ishmael's judgment, and to appeal to him inall his difficulties. So he looked up in confidence as the youth enteredwith Hannah. 

"What is it, Uncle Reuben?" inquired the boy cheerfully. 

"The biggest botheration as ever was, Ishmael, my lad!" answered Gray. 

"Well, take a mug of cool cider to refresh yourself, and then tell meall about it, " said Ishmael. 

Hannah ran and brought the invigorating drink, and after quaffing itGray drew a long breath and said:

"Why, I've got the botherationest letter from the judge as ever was. Hesays how he has sent down a lot of books, as will be landed at ourlanding by the schooner 'Canvas Back, ' Capt'n Miller; and wants me totake the cart and go and receive them, and carry them up to the house, and ask the housekeeper for the keys of the liber-airy and put them inthere, " said Reuben, pausing for breath. 

"Why, that is not much bother, Uncle Reuben. Let me go and get the booksfor you, " smiled Ishmael. 

"Law, it aint that; for I don't s'pose it's much more trouble to cartbooks than it is to cart bricks. You didn't hear me out: After I havegot the botheration things into the liber-airy, he wants me to unpackthem, and also take down the books as is there already, and put thewhole lot on 'em in the middle of the floor, and then pick 'em out and'range 'em all in separate lots, like one would sort vegetables formarket, and put each sort all together on a different shelf, and thenwrite all their names in a book, all regular and in exact order! There, now, that's the work as the judge has cut out for me, as well as I canmake out his meaning from his hard words and crabbed hand; and I no morefit to do it nor I am to write a sarmon or to build a ship; and if thataint enough, to bother a man's brains I don't know what is, that'sall. "

"But it is no part of your duty as overseer to act as his librarian, "said Ishmael. 

"I know it aint; but, you see, the judge he pays me liberal, and hegives me a fust-rate house and garden, and the liberty of his ownorchards and vineyards, and a great many other privileges besides, andhe expects me to 'commodate him in turn by doing of little things asisn't exactly in the line of my duty, " answered Gray. 

"But, " demurred Ishmael, "he ought to have known that you were notprecisely fitted for this new task he has set you. "

"Well, my lad, he didn't; 'cause, you see, the gals as I edicated, youknow, they did everything for me as required larning, like writingletters and keeping 'counts; and as for little Kitty, she used to dothem beautiful, for Kitty was real clever; and I do s'pose the judgetook it for granted as the work was all my own, and so he thinks I cando this job too. Now, if the parish school wa'n't broke up for theholidays, I might get the schoolmaster to do it for me and pay him forit; but, you see, he is gone North to visit his mother and he won't beback until September, so the mischief knows what I shall do. I thoughtI'd just ask your advice, Ishmael, because you have got such a wonderfulhead of your own. "

"Thank you, Uncle Reuben. Don't you be the least distressed. I can dowhat is required to be done, and do it in a manner that shall givesatisfaction, too, " said Ishmael. 

"You! you, my boy! could you do that everlasting big botheration of ajob?"

"Yes, and do it well, I hope. "

"Why, I don't believe the professor himself could!" exclaimed Gray, inincredulous astonishment. 

"Nor I, either, " laughed Ishmael; "but I know that I can. "

"But, my boy, it is such a task!"

"I should like it, of all things, Uncle Reuben! You could not give me agreater treat than the privilege of overhauling all those books andputting them in order and making the catalogue, " said the youth eagerly. 

And besides he was going to Claudia's house!

Reuben looked more and more astonished as Ishmael went on; but Hannahspoke up:

"You may believe him, Reuben! He is book-mad; and it is my opinion, thatwhen he gets into that musty old library, among the dusty books, he willfancy himself in heaven. "

Reuben looked from the serious face of Hannah to the smiling eyes ofIshmael, and inquired doubtfully:

"Is that the truth, my boy?"

"Something very near it, Uncle Reuben, " answered Ishmael. 

"Very well, my lad, " exclaimed the greatly relieved overseer, gleefullyslapping his knees, "very well! as sure as you are horn, you shall go toyour heaven. "

CHAPTER XXXIX. 

ISHMAEL IN TANGLEWOOD. 

 Into a forest far, they thence him led Where stood the mansion in a pleasant glade, With great hills round about environèd And mighty woods which did the valley shade, And like a stately theater it made, Spreading itself into a spacious plain, And in the midst a little river played Amongst the pumy stones which seemed to 'plain With gentle murmur that his course they did restrain. 

 --_Spenser_. 

The next morning Ishmael Worth went down to the shore, carrying' aspy-glass to look out for the "Canvas Back. " There was no certaintyabout the passing of these sailing packets; a dead calm or a head windmight delay them for days and even weeks; but on this occasion there wasno disappointment and no delay, the wind had been fair and the littleschooner was seen flying before it up the river. Ishmael seated himselfupon the shore and drew a book from his pocket to study while he waitedfor the arrival of the schooner. In less than an hour she dropped anchoropposite the landing, and sent off a large boat laden with boxes, androwed by four stout seamen. As they reached the sands Ishmael blew ahorn to warn Reuben Gray of their arrival. 

Three or four times the boat went back and forth between the schoonerand the shore, each time bringing a heavy load. By the time the lastload was brought and deposited upon the beach, Reuben Gray arrived atthe spot with his team. The sailors received a small gratuity from Grayand returned to the schooner, which immediately raised anchor andcontinued her way up the river. 

Ishmael, Reuben, and Sam, the teamster, loaded the wagon with the boxesand set out for Tanglewood, Sam driving the team, Ishmael and Reubenwalking beside it. 

Through all the fertile and highly cultivated fields that lay along thebanks of the river they went, until they reached the borders of theforest, where Reuben's cottage stood. They did not pause here, butpassed it and entered the forest. What a forest it was! They hadscarcely entered it when they became so buried in shade that they mighthave imagined themselves a thousand miles deep in some primevalwilderness, where never the foot of man had trod. The road along whichthey went was grass-grown. The trees, which grew to an enormous size andgigantic height, interwove their branches thickly overhead. Sometimesthese branches intermingled so low that they grazed the top of the wagonas it passed, while men and horses had to bow their heads. 

"Why isn't this road cleared, Uncle Reuben?" inquired Ishmael. 

"Because it is as much as a man's place is worth to touch a tree in thisforest, Ishmael, " replied Reuben. 

"But why is that? The near branches of these trees need lopping awayfrom the roadside; we can scarcely get along. "

"I know it, Ishmael; but the judge won't have a tree in Tanglewood somuch as touched; it is his crochet. "

"True, for you, Marse Gray, " spoke up Sam; "last time I trimmed away thebranches from the sides of this here road, ole marse threatened if I cutoff so much as a twig from one of the trees again he'd take off a jointof one of my fingers to see how I'd like to be 'trimmed', he said. "

Ishmael laughed and remarked:

"But the road will soon be closed unless the trees are cut away. "

"Sartin it will; but he don't care for consequences; he will have hisway; that's the reason why he never could keep any overseer but me;there was always such a row about the trees and things, as he alwaysswore they should grow as they had a mind to, in spite of all theoverseers in the world. I let him have his own will; it's none of mybusiness to contradict him, " said Reuben. 

"But what will you do when the road closes, how will you manage to getheavy boxes up to the house?" laughed Ishmael. 

"Wheel 'em up in a hand-barrow, I s'pose, and if the road gets toonarrow for that, unpack 'em and let the niggers tote the parcels uppiece-meal. "

Thicker and thicker grew the trees as they penetrated deeper into theforest; more obstructed and difficult became the road. Suddenly, withoutan instant's warning, they came upon the house, a huge, square buildingof gray stone, so overgrown with moss, ivy, and creeping vines thatscarcely a glimpse of the wall could be seen. Its colors, therefore, blended so well with the forest trees that grew thickly and closelyaround it, that one could scarcely suspect the existence of a buildingthere. 

"Here we are, " said Reuben, while Sam dismounted and began to take offthe boxes. 

The front door opened and a fat negro woman, apparently startled by thearrival of the wagon, made her appearance, asking:

"What de debbil all dis, chillun?"

"Here are some books that are to be put into the library, Aunt Katie, and this young man is to unpack and arrange them, " answered theoverseer. 

"More books: my hebbinly Lord, what ole marse want wid more books, whenhe nebber here to read dem he has got?" exclaimed the fat woman, raisingher hands in dismay. 

"That is none of our business, Katie! What we are to do is to obeyorders; so, if you please, let us have the keys, " replied Gray. 

The woman disappeared within the house and remained absent for a fewminutes, during which the men lifted the boxes from the wagon. 

By the time they had set down the last one Katie reappeared with herheavy bunch of keys and beckoned them to follow her. 

Ishmael obeyed, by shouldering a small box and entering the house, whileReuben Gray and Sam took up a heavy one between them and came after. 

It was a noble old hall, with its walls hung with family pictures andrusty arms and trophies of the chase; with doors opening on each sideinto spacious apartments; and with a broad staircase ascending from thecenter. 

The fat old negro housekeeper, waddling along before the men, led themto the back of the hall, and opened a door on the right, admitting theminto the library of Tanglewood. 

Here the men set down the boxes. And when they had brought them all in, and Sam, under the direction of Gray, had forced off all the tops, laying the contents bare to view, the latter said:

"Now then, Ishmael, we will leave you to go to work and unpack; butdon't you get so interested in the work as to disremember dinner time atone o'clock precisely; and be sure you are punctual, because we've gotveal and spinnidge. "

"Thank you, Uncle Reuben, I will not keep you waiting, " replied theyouth. 

Gray and his assistant departed, and Ishmael was left alone with thewealth of books around him. 

CHAPTER XL. 

THE LIBRARY. 

 Round the room are shelves of dainty lore, And rich old pictures hang upon the walls, Where the slant light falls on them; and wrought gems, Medallions, rare mosaics and antiques From Herculaneum, the niches fill; And on a table of enamel wrought With a lost art in Italy, do lie Prints of fair women and engravings rare. 

 --_N. P. Willis_. 

It was a noble room; four lofty windows--two on each side--admittingabundance of light and air; at one end was a marble chimney-piece, overwhich hung a fine picture of Christ disputing with the doctors in thetemple; on each side of this chimney-piece were glass cases filled withrare shells, minerals, and other curiosities; all the remaining spacesalong the walls and between the windows were filled up with book-cases;various writing tables, reading stands, and easy-chairs occupied thecenter of the floor. 

After a curious glance at this scene, Ishmael went to work at unpackingthe boxes. He found his task much easier than he had expected to findit. Each box contained one particular set of books. On the top of one ofthe boxes he found a large strong blank folio, entitled--"LibraryCatalogue. "

Ishmael took this book and sat down at one of the tables and divided itinto twelve portions, writing over each portion the name of the subjectto which he proposed to devote it, as "Theology, " "Physics, ""Jurisprudence, " etc. The last portion he headed "Miscellaneous. " Nexthe divided the empty shelves into similar compartments, and headed eachwith thy corresponding names. Then he began to make a list of the books, taking one set at a time, writing their names in their proper portion ofthe catalogue and then arranging them in their proper compartment of thelibrary. 

Ishmael had just got through with "Theology, " and was about to begin toarrange the next set of books in rotation, when he bethought himself tolook at the timepiece, and seeing that it was after twelve, he hurriedback to Woodside to keep his appointment with Reuben. 

But he returned in the afternoon and recommenced work; and not only onthis day, but for several succeeding days, Ishmael toiled cheerfully atthis task. To arrange all these books in perfect order and neatness wasto Ishmael a labor of real love; and so when one Saturday afternoon hehad completed his task, it was with a feeling half of satisfaction atthe results of his labor, half of regret at leaving the scene of it, that he locked up the library, returned the key to Aunt Katie, and tookleave of Tanglewood. 

Walking home through the forest that evening Ishmael thought well overhis future prospects. He had read and mastered all those text-books oflaw that he had found in the old escritoire of his bedroom; and now hewanted more advanced books on the same subject. Such books he had seenin the library at Tanglewood; and he had been sorely tempted to lingeras long as possible there for the sake of reading them: but honest andtrue in thought and act, he resisted the temptation to appropriate theuse of the books, or the time that he felt was not his own. 

On this evening, therefore, he meditated upon the means of obtaining thebooks that he wanted. He was now about eighteen years of age, highlygifted in physical beauty and in moral and intellectual excellence; buthe was still as poor as poverty could make him. He worked hard, muchharder than many who earned liberal salaries; but he earned nothing, absolutely nothing, beyond his board and clothing. 

This state of things he felt must not continue longer. It was now nearlynine months since he had left Mr. Middleton's school, and there was nochance of his ever entering another; so now he felt he must turn theeducation he had received to some better account than merely keepingReuben Gray's farm books; that he must earn something to support himselfand to enable him to go on with his law studies; and he must earn this"something" in this neighborhood, too; for the idea of leaving poorReuben with no one to keep his accounts never entered the unselfish mindof Ishmael. 

Various plans of action as to how he should contrive to support himselfand pursue his studies without leaving the neighborhood suggestedthemselves to Ishmael. Among the rest, he thought of opening a countryschool. True, he was very young, too young for so responsible a post;but in every other respect, except that of age, he was admirably wellqualified for the duty. While he was still meditating upon this subject, he unexpectedly reached the end of his walk and the gate of the cottage. 

Reuben and Hannah were standing at the gate. Reuben's left arm wasaround Hannah, and his right hand held an open letter, over which boththeir heads were bent. Hannah was helping poor Reuben to spell out itscontents. 

Ishmael smiled as he greeted them, smiled with his eyes only, as if hissweet bright spirit had looked out in love upon them; and thus it wasthat Ishmael always met his friends. 

"Glad you've come home so soon, Ishmael--glad as ever I can be! Here'sanother rum go, as ever was!" said Gray, looking up from his letter. 

"What is it, Uncle Reuben?"

"Why, it's a sort of notice from the judge. 'Pears like he's gin up hisv'y'ge to forrin parts; and 'stead of gwine out yonder for two or threeyears, he and Miss Merlin be coming down here to spend thesummer--leastways, what's left of it, " said Gray. 

Ishmael's face flushed crimson, and then went deadly white, as he reeledand leaned against the fence for support. Much as he had struggled toconquer his wild passion for the beautiful and high-born heiress, oftenas he had characterized it as mere boyish folly, or moon-struck madness, closely as he had applied himself to study in the hope of curing hismania, he was overwhelmed by the sudden announcement of her expectedreturn: overwhelmed by a shock of equally blended joy and pain--joy atthe prospect of soon meeting her, pain at the thought of the impassablegulf that yawned them--"so near and yet so far!"

His extreme agitation was not observed by either Reuben or Hannah, whoseheads were again bent over the puzzling letter. While he was still inthat half-stunned, half-excited and wholly-confused state of feeling, Reuben went slowly on with his explanations:

"'Pears like the judge have got another gov'ment 'pointment, or somesich thing, as will keep him here in his natyve land; so he and MissClaudia, they be a-coming down here to stop till the meeting of Congressin Washington. So he orders me to tell Katie to get the house ready toreceive them by the first of next week; and law! this is Saturday!Leastways, that is all me and Hannah can make out'n this here letter, Ishmael; but you take it and read it yourself, " said Gray, putting themissive into Ishmael's hands. 

With a great effort to recover his self-possession, Ishmael took theletter and read it aloud. 

It proved to be just what Reuben and Hannah had made of it, butIshmael's clear reading rendered the orders much plainer. 

"Now, if old Katie won't have to turn her fat body a little faster thanshe often does, I don't know nothing!" exclaimed Gray, when Ishmael hadfinished the reading. 

"I will go up myself this evening and help her, " said Hannah kindly. 

"No, you won't, neither, my dear! Old Katie has lots of young maidservants to help her, and she's as jealous as a pet cat of allinterference with her affairs. But we will walk over after tea and lether know what's up, " said Gray. 

After tea, accordingly, Reuben, Hannah, and Ishmael took a pleasantevening stroll through the forest to Tanglewood, and told Katie what wasat hand. 

"And you'll have to stir round, old woman, and that I tell you, for thisis Saturday night, and they may be here on Monday evening, " said Gray. 

"Law, Marse Reuben, you needn't tell me nuffin 'tall 'bout Marse JudgeMerlin! I knows his ways too well; I been too long use to his poppingdown on us, unexpected, like the Day of Judgment, for me to beunprepared! The house is all in fust-rate order; only wantin' fires tobe kindled to correct de damp, and windows to be opened to air de rooms;and time 'nuff for dat o' Monday, " grinned old Katie, taking thingseasy. 

"Very well, only see to it! Come, Hannah, let us go home, " said Gray. 

"But, Uncle Reuben, have you no directions for the coachman to meet thejudge at the landing?" inquired Ishmael. 

"No, my lad. The judge never comes down by any of these little sailingpackets as pass here. He allers comes by the steamboat to Baymouth, andthen from there to here by land. "

"Then had you not better send the carriage to Baymouth immediately, thatit may be there in time to meet him? It will be more comfortable for thejudge and--and Miss--and his daughter to travel in their own easycarriage than in those rough village hacks. "

"Well, now, Ishmael, that's a rale good idee, and I'll follow it, andthe judge will thank you for it. If he'd took a thought, you see, he'da-gin me the order to do just that thing. But law! he's so took up alongof public affairs, as he never thinks of his private comfort, though heis always pleased as possible when anybody thinks of it for him. "

"Then, Uncle Reuben, had you not better start Sam with the carriage thisevening? It is a very clear night, the roads are excellent, and thehorses are fresh; so he could easily reach Baymouth by sunrise, and putup at the 'Planter's Rest, ' for Sunday, and wait there for the boat. "

"Yes, Ishmael, I think I had better do so; we'll go home now directlyand start Sam. He'll be pleased to death! If there's anything thatnigger likes, it's a journey, particular through the cool of the night;but he'll sleep all day to-morrow to make up for his lost rest, "returned Reuben, as they turned to walk back to the cottage. 

Sam was found loitering near the front gate. When told what he was todo, he grinned and started with alacrity to put the horses to thecarriage and prepare the horse feed to take along with him. 

And meanwhile Hannah packed a hamper full of food and drink to solacethe traveler on his night journey. 

In half an hour from his first notice to go, Sam drove the carriage upto the cottage gate, received his hamper of provisions and his finalorders, and departed. 

Hannah and Reuben, leaning over the gate, watched him out of sight, andthen sat down in front of their cottage door, to enjoy the coolness ofthe summer evening, and talk of the judge's expected arrival. 

Ishmael went up to his room, lighted a candle, and sat down to try tocompose his agitated heart and apply his mind to study. But in vain; hiseyes wandered over the pages of his book; his mind could not take in themeaning. The thought of Claudia filled his whole soul, absorbed hisevery faculty to the exclusion of every other idea. 

"Oh, this will never, never do! It is weakness, folly, madness! Whathave I to do with Miss Merlin that she takes possession of my wholebeing in this manner! I must, I will conquer this passion!" heexclaimed, at last, starting up, throwing aside his book, and pacing thefloor. 

"Yes, with the Lord's help, I will overcome this infatuation!" herepeated, as he paused in his hasty walk, bowed his head, and folded hishands in prayer to God for deliverance from the power of inordinate andvain affections. 

This done, he returned to his studies with more success. And long afterhe heard Hannah and Reuben re-enter the cottage and retire to theirroom, he continued to sit up and read. He read on perseveringly, untilhe had wearied himself out enough to be able to sleep. And his lastresolution on seeking his bed was:

"By the Lord's help I will conquer this passion! I will combat it withprayer, and study, and work!"

CHAPTER XLI. 

CLAUDIA. 

 But she in those fond feelings had no share; Her sighs were not for him; to her he was Even as a brother; but no more; 'twas much, For brotherless she was save in the name Her girlish friendship had bestowed on him; Herself the solitary scion left Of a time-honored race. 

 --_Byron's Dream_. 

Ishmael applied himself diligently to active outdoor work during themorning and to study during the evening hours. 

Thus several days passed. Nothing was heard from Sam, the carriage, orthe judge. 

Reuben Gray expressed great anxiety--not upon account of the judge, orMiss Merlin, who, he averred, were both capable of taking care ofthemselves and each other, but on account of Sam and his valuable chargethat he feared had in some way or other come to harm. 

Ishmael tried to reassure him by declaring his own opinion that all wasright, and that Sam was only waiting at Baymouth for the arrival of hismaster. 

Reuben Gray only shook his head and predicted all sorts of misfortunes. 

But Ishmael's supposition was proved to be correct, when late Wednesdaynight, or rather--for it was after midnight--early Thursday morning, theunusual sound of carriage wheels passing the road before the cottagewaked up all its inmates, and announced to them the arrival of the judgeand his daughter. 

Reuben Gray started up and hurried on his clothes. 

Ishmael sprang out of bed and looked forth from the window. But thecarriage without pausing for a moment rolled on its way to TanglewoodHouse. 

The startled sleepers finding their services not required returned tobed again. 

Early that morning, while the family were at the breakfast table, Sammade his appearance and formally announced the arrival of the judge andMiss Merlin at Tanglewood. 

"How long did you have to wait for them at Baymouth?" inquired ReubenGray. 

"Not a hour, sar. I arrove about sunrise at the 'Planter's, ' just the'Powhatan' was a steaming up to the wharf; and so I druv on to the wharfto see if de judge and his darter was aboard, and sure nuff dere deywas! And mightily 'stonished was dey to see me and de carriage and dehorses; and mightily pleased, too. So de judge he put his darter interde inside, while I piled on de luggage a-hind and a-top; and so we goesback to de 'Planters, '" said Sam. 

"But what kept you so long at Baymouth?"

"Why, law bless you, de judge, he had wisits to pay in de neighborhood;and having of me an' de carriage dere made it all de more convenienter. O' Monday we went over to a place called de Burrow, and dined long ofone Marse Commodore Burghe; and o' Tuesday we went and dined atBrudenell Hall with young Mr. Herman Brudenell. "

At this name Hannah started and turned pale; but almost immediatelyrecovered her composure. 

Sam continued:

"And o' Wednesday, that is yesterday morning airly, we started for home. We laid by during the heat of the day at Horse-head, and started againlate in de arternoon; dat made it one o'clock when we arrove at homelast night, or leastways this morning. "

"Well, and what brought you down here? Has the judge sent any messagesto me?"

"Yes, he have; he want you to come right up to de house and fetch defarm books, so he can see how the 'counts stands. "

"Very well; they're all right!" said Reuben confidently, as he arosefrom the table, put on his hat, took two account-books from the shelf, and went out followed by Sam. 

Ishmael as usual went into the garden to work, and tried to keep histhoughts from dwelling upon Claudia. 

At dinner-time Gray returned, and Ishmael met him at the table. And Graycould talk of nothing but the improvement, beauty, and the grace of MissMerlin. 

"She is just too beautiful for this world, Hannah, " he concluded, afterhaving exhausted all his powers of description upon his subject. 

After dinner Ishmael went upstairs to his books, and Hannah tookadvantage of his absence to say to Gray:

"Reuben, I wish you would never mention Miss Claudia Merlin's namebefore Ishmael. "

"Law! why?" inquired Gray. 

"Because I want him to forget her. "

"But why so?"

"Oh, Reuben, how dull you are! Well, if I must tell you, he likes her. "

"Well, so do I! and so do everyone!" said honest Reuben. 

"But he likes her too well! he loves her, Reuben!"

"What! Ishmael love Judge Merlin's daughter! L-a-w! Why I should as soonthink of falling in love with a royal princess!" exclaimed the honestman, in extreme astonishment. 

"Reuben, hush! I hate to speak of it; but it is true. Pray, never lethim know that we even suspect the truth; and be careful not to mentionher name in his presence. I can see that he is struggling to conquer hisfeelings; but he can never do it while you continue to ding her nameinto his ears foreverlasting. "

"I'll be mum! Ishmael in love with Miss Merlin! I should as soonsuspicion him of being in love with the Queen of Spain! Good gracious!how angry she'd be if she knew it. "

After this conversation Reuben Gray was very careful to avoid allmention of Claudia Merlin in the hearing of Ishmael. 

The month of August was drawing to a close. Ishmael had not once seteyes on Claudia, though he had chanced to see the judge on horseback ata distance several times. Ishmael busied himself in seeking out a roomin the neighborhood, in which to open a school on the first ofSeptember. He had not as yet succeeded in his object, when one day anaccident occurred that, as he used it, had a signal effect on his futurelife. 

It was a rather cool morning in the latter part of August when he, afterspending an hour or two of work in the garden, dressed himself in hisbest clothes and set off to walk to Rushy Shore farm, where he heardthere was a small schoolhouse ready furnished with rough benches anddesks, to be had at low rent. His road lay along the high banks of theriver, above the sands. He had gone about a mile on his way when heheard the sound of carriage wheels behind him, and in a few minutescaught a glimpse of an open barouche, drawn by a pair of fine, spiritedgray horses, as it flashed by him. Quickly as the carriage passed, herecognized in the distinguished looking young lady seated withinit--Claudia!--recognized her with an electric shock that thrilled hiswhole being, paralyzed him where he stood and bound him to the spot! Hegazed after the flying vehicle until it vanished from his sight. Then hesank down where he stood and covered his face with his hands and stroveto calm the rising emotion that swelled his bosom. It was minutes beforehe recovered self-possession enough to arise and go on his way. 

In due time he reached the farm--Rushy Shore--where the schoolhouse wasfor rent. It was a plain little log house close to the river side andshaded by cedars. It had been built for the use of a poor country masterwho had worn out his life in teaching for small pay the humbler class ofcountry children. He rested from his earthly labors, and the school waswithout a teacher. Ishmael saw only the overseer of the farm, whoinformed him that he had authority to let the schoolroom only untilChristmas, as the whole estate had just been sold and the new owner wasto take possession at the new year. 

"Who is the new owner?" inquired Ishmael. 

"Well, sir, his name is Middleton--Mr. James Middleton, from St. Mary'sCounty: though I think I did hear as he was first of all from Virginia. "

"Mr. Middleton! Mr. James Middleton!" exclaimed Ishmael, catching hisbreath for joy. 

"Yes, sir; that is the gentleman; did you happen to know him?"

"Yes: intimately; he is one of the best and most honored friends I havein the world!" said Ishmael warmly. 

"Then, sir, maybe he wouldn't be for turning you out of the schoolhouseeven when the time we can let it for is up?"

"No, I don't think he would, " said Ishmael, smiling, as he took hisleave and started on his return. He walked rapidly on his way homeward, thinking of the strange destiny that threw him again among the friendsof his childhood, when he was startled by a sound as of the sudden rushof wheels. He raised his head and beheld a fearful sight! Plunging madlytowards the brink of the high bank were the horses of Claudia'sreturning carriage. The coachman had dropped the reins, which weretrailing on the ground, sprung from his seat and was left some distancebehind. Claudia retained hers, holding by the sides of the carriage; buther face was white as marble; her eyes were starting from their sockets;her teeth were firmly set; her lips drawn back; her hat lost and herblack hair streaming behind her! On rushed the maddened beasts towardsthe brink of the precipice! another moment, and they would have dasheddown into certain destruction!

Ishmael saw and hurled himself furiously forward between the rushinghorses and the edge of the precipice, seizing the reins as the horsesdashed up to him, and threw all his strength into the effort to turnthem aside from their fate. 

He did turn them from the brink of destruction, but alas! alas! as theywere suddenly and violently whirled around they threw him down andpassed, dragging the carriage with them, over his prostrate body!

At the same moment some fishermen on the sands below, who had seen theimpending catastrophe, rushed up the bank, headed the maddened horsesand succeeded in stopping them. 

Then Miss Merlin jumped from the carriage, and ran to the side ofIshmael. 

In that instant of deadly peril she had recognized him; but all hadpassed so instantaneously that she had not had time to speak, scarcelyto breathe. 

Now she kneeled by his side and raised his head. He was mangled, bleeding, pallid, and insensible. 

"Oh, for the love of God, leave those horses and come here, men! Comeinstantly!" cried Claudia, who with trembling hands was seeking on theboy's face and bosom for some signs of life. 

Two of the men remained with the horses, but three rushed to the side ofthe young lady. 

"Oh, Heaven! he is crushed to death, I fear! He was trampled down by thehorses, and the whole carriage seemed to have passed over him! Oh, tellme! tell me! is he killed? is he quite, quite dead?" cried Claudiabreathlessly, wringing her hands in anguish, as she arose from herkneeling posture to make room for the man. 

The three got down beside him and began to examine his condition. 

"Is he dead? Oh! is he dead?" cried Claudia. 

"It's impossible to tell, miss, " answered one of the men, who had hishand on Ishmael's wrist; "but he haint got no pulse. "

"And his leg is broken, to begin with, " said another, who was busyfeeling the poor fellow's limbs. 

"And I think his ribs be broken, too, " added the third man, who had hishand in the boy's bosom. 

With a piercing scream Claudia threw herself down on the ground, bentover the fallen body, raised the poor, ghastly head in her arms, supported it on her bosom, snatched a vial of aromatic vinegar from herpocket, and began hastily to bathe the blanched face; her tears fallingfast as she cried:

"He must not die! Oh, he shall not die! Oh, God have mercy on me, andspare his life! Oh, Saviour of the world, save him! Sweet angels inheaven, come to his aid! Oh, Ishmael, my brother! my treasure! my own, dear boy, do not die! Better I had died than you! Come back! come backto me, my own! my beautiful boy, come back to me! You are mine!"

Her tears fell like rain; and utterly careless of the eyes gazing inwonder upon her, she covered his cold, white face with kisses. 

Those warm tears, those thrilling kisses, falling on his lifeless, face, might have called back the boy's spirit, had it been waiting at thegates of heaven!

To Claudia's unutterable joy his sensitive features quivered, his palecheeks flushed, his large, blue eyes opened, and with a smile ofineffable satisfaction he recognized the face that was bending over him. Then the pallid lips trembled and unclosed with the faintly utteredinquiry:

"You are safe, Miss Merlin?"

"Quite safe, my own dear boy! but oh! at what a cost to you!" sheanswered impulsively and fervently. 

He closed his eyes, and while that look of ineffable bliss deepened onhis face, he murmured some faint words that she stooped to catch:

"I am so happy--so happy--I could wish to die now!" he breathed. 

"But you shall not die, dear Ishmael! God heard my cry and sent you backto me! You shall live!"

Then turning to the gaping men, she said:

"Raise him gently, and lay him in the barouche. Stop a moment!--I willget in first and arrange the cushions for him. "

And with that she tenderly laid the boy's head back upon the ground, andentered the carriage, and with her own hands took all the cushions fromthe tops of the seats, and arranged them so as to make a level bed forthe hurt boy. Then she placed herself in the back seat, and, as theylifted him into the carriage, she took his head and shoulders andsupported them upon her lap. 

But Ishmael had fainted from the pain of being moved. And oh! what amangled form he seemed, as she held him in her arms upon her bosom, while his broken limbs lay out upon the pile of cushions. 

"One of you two now take the horses by the head, and lead them slowly, by the river road, towards Tanglewood House. It is the longest road, butthe smoothest, " said Miss Merlin. 

Two of the men started to obey this order, saying that it might takemore than one to manage the horses if they should grow restive again. 

"That is very true; besides, you can relieve each other in leading thehorses. And now one of the others must run directly to the house of theOverseer Gray, and tell him what has happened, and direct him to rideoff immediately to Shelton and fetch Dr. Jarvis to Tanglewood. "

All three of the remaining men started off zealously upon this errand. Meanwhile Sam, the craven coachman, came up with a crestfallen air tothe side of the carriage, whimpering:

"Miss Claudia, I hope nobody was dangerous hurt?"

"Nobody dangerously hurt? Ishmael Worth is killed for aught I know! Keepout of my way, you cowardly villain!" exclaimed Claudia angrily, for youknow the heiress was no angel. 

"'Deed and 'deed, Miss Claudia, I didn't know what I was a-doing of nomore than the dead when I jumped out'n the b'rouche! 'Clare to myMarster in heben I didn't!" whined Sam. 

"Perhaps not; but keep out of my way!" repeated Claudia, with her eyeskindling. . 

"But please, miss, mayn't I drive you home now?"

"What? after nearly breaking my neck, which was saved only at the costof this poor boy's life, perhaps?"

"Please, Miss Claudia, I'll be careful another time--"

"Careful of your own life!"

"Please, miss, let me drive you home this once. "

"Not to save your soul!"

"But what'll ole Marse say?" cried Sam, in utter dismay. 

"That is your affair. I advise you to keep out of his way also! Begonefrom my sight! Go on, men!" finally ordered Miss Merlin. 

Sam, more ashamed of himself than ever, slunk away. 

And the fishermen started to lead the horses and carriage towardsTanglewood. 

Meanwhile the messengers dispatched by Claudia hurried on towards ReubenGray's cottage. But before they got in sight of the house they came fullupon Reuben, who was mounted on his white cob, and riding as if for awager. 

"Hey! hallo! stop!" cried the foremost man, throwing up his arms beforethe horse, which immediately started and shied. 

"Hush, can't ye! Don't stop me now! I'm in a desp'at hurry! I'm off forthe doctor! My wife's taken bad, and may die before I get back!"exclaimed Reuben, with a scared visage, as he tried to pass themessengers. 

"Going for the doctor! There's just where we were going to send you! Goas fast as you can, and if your wife isn't very bad indeed, send himfirst of all to Tanglewood, where he is wanted immediately. "

"Who is ill there?" inquired Reuben anxiously. 

"Nobody! but your nephew has been knocked down and trampled nearly todeath while stopping Miss Merlin's horses that were running away withher. "

"Ishmael hurt! Good gracious! there's nothing but trouble in this world!Where is the poor lad?"

"Miss Merlin has taken him to Tanglewood. The doctor is wanted there. "

"I'll send him as soon as ever I can; but I must get him to Hannahfirst! I must indeed!" And with that Reuben put whip to his horse androde away; but in a moment he wheeled again and rode back to thefishermen, saying:

"Hallo, Simpson! are you going past our place?"

"Yes, " replied the man. 

"Well, then, mind and don't breathe a word about Ishmael's accident toHannah, or to anybody about the place as might tell her; because she'svery ill, and the shock might be her death, you know, " said Reubenanxiously. 

"All right! we'll be careful, " replied the man. And Reuben rode off. 

He was so fortunate as to find Dr. Jarvis at his office and get him tocome immediately to Woodside. But not until the doctor had seen Hannahand had given her a little medicine, and declared that his fartherservices would not be required by her for several hours yet, did Reubenmention to him the other case that awaited his attention at Tanglewood. And Dr. Jarvis, with a movement of impatience at the unnecessary delay, hurried thither. 

CHAPTER XLII. 

ISHMAEL AT TANGLEWOOD. 

 There was an ancient mansion, and before Its walls there was a steed caparisoned. Within an antique oratory lay The boy of whom I spake; he was alone, And pale and tossing to and fro.... 

 --_Byron_. 

Meanwhile the carriage traveling slowly reached Tanglewood. Slowlypacing up and down the long piazza in front of the house was JudgeMerlin. He was a rather singular-looking man of about forty-five yearsof age. He was very tall, thin, and bony, with high aquiline features, dark complexion, and iron-gray hair, which he wore long and parted inthe middle. He was habited in a loose jacket, vest, and trousers ofbrown linen, and wore a broad-brimmed straw hat on his head, and largeslippers, down at the heel, on his feet. He carried in his hand alighted pipe of common clay, and he walked with a slow, swinging gait, and an air of careless indifference to all around him. Altogether, hepresented the idea of a civilized Indian chief, rather than that of aChristian gentleman. Tradition said that the blood of King Powhatanflowed in Randolph Merlin's veins, and certainly his personalappearance, character, tastes, habits, and manners favored the legend. 

On seeing the carriage approach he had taken the clay pipe from hismouth and sauntered forward. On seeing the strange burden that hisdaughter supported in her arms, he came down to the side of thecarriage, exclaiming:

"Who have you got there, Claudia?"

"Oh, papa, it is Ishmael Worth! He has killed himself, I fear, in savingme! My horses ran away, ran directly towards the steeps above the river, and would have plunged over if he had not started forward and turnedtheir heads in time; but the horses, as they turned, knocked him downand ran over him!" cried Claudia, in almost breathless vehemence. 

"What was Sam doing all this time?" inquired the judge, as he stoodcontemplating the insensible boy. 

"Oh, papa, he sprang from the carriage as soon as the horses becameunmanageable and ran away! But don't stop here asking useless questions!Lift him out and take him into the house! Gently, papa! gently, " saidClaudia, as Judge Merlin slipped his long arms under the youth's bodyand lifted him from the carriage. 

"Now, then, what do you expect me to do with him?" inquired JudgeMerlin, looking around as if for a convenient place to lay him on thegrass. 

"Oh, papa, take him right into the spare bedroom on the lower floor! andlay him on the bed. I have sent for a doctor to attend him here, "answered Claudia, as she sprang from the carriage and led the way intothe very room she had indicated. 

"He is rather badly hurt, " said the judge, as he laid Ishmael upon thebed and arranged his broken limbs as easily as he could. 

"'Rather badly!' he is crushed nearly to death! I told you the wholecarriage passed over him!" cried Claudia, with a hysterical sob, as shebent over the boy. 

"Worse than I thought, " continued the judge, as he proceeded to unbuttonIshmael's coat and loosen his clothes. "Did you say you sent for adoctor?"

"Yes! as soon as it happened! He ought to be here in an hour from this!"replied Claudia, wringing her hands. 

"His clothes must be cut away from him; it might do his fractured limbsirreparable injury to try to draw off his coat and trousers in the usualmanner. Leave him to me, Claudia, and go and tell old Katie to comehere and bring a pair of sharp shears with her, " ordered the judge. 

Claudia stooped down quickly, gave one wistful, longing, compassionategaze at the still, cold white face of the sufferer, and then hurried outto obey her father's directions. She sent old Katie in, and then threwoff her hat and mantle and sat down on the step of the door to watch forthe doctor's approach, and also to be at hand to hear any tidings thatmight come from the room of the wounded boy. 

More than an hour Claudia remained on the watch without seeing anyone. Then, when suspense grew intolerable, she impulsively sprang up andsilently hastened to the door of the sick-room and softly rapped. 

The judge came and opened it. 

"Oh, papa, how is he?"

"Breathing, Claudia, that is all! I wish to Heaven the doctor wouldcome! Are you sure the messenger went after him!"

"Oh, yes, papa, I am sure! Do let me come in and see him!"

"It is no place for you, Claudia; he is partially undressed; I will takecare of him. "

And with these words the judge gently closed the door in his daughter'sface. 

Claudia went back to her post. 

"Why don't the doctor come! And oh! why don't Reuben Gray or Hannahcome? It is dreadful to sit here and wait!" she exclaimed, as with asudden resolution she sprang up again, seized her hat and ran out of thehouse with the intention of proceeding directly to the Gray's cottage. 

But a few paces from the house she met the doctor's gig. 

"Oh, Doctor Jarvis, I am so glad you have come at last!" she cried. 

"Who is it that is hurt?" inquired the doctor. 

"Ishmael Worth, our overseer's nephew!"

"How did it happen?"

"Didn't they tell you?"

"No. "

"Oh, poor boy! He threw himself before my horses to stop them as theywere running down the steeps over the river; and he turned them aside, but they knocked him down and ran over him!"

"Bad! very bad! poor fellow!" said the doctor, jumping from his gig ashe drew up before the house. 

Claudia ran in before him, leading the way to the sick chamber, at thedoor of which she rapped to announce the arrival. This time old Katieopened the door, and admitted the doctor. 

Claudia, excluded from entrance, walked up and down the hall in a feverof anxiety. 

Once old Katie came out and Claudia arrested her. 

"What does the doctor say, Katie?"

"He don't say nothing satisfactory, Miss Claudia. Don't stop me, please!I'm sent for bandages and things!"

And Katie hurried on her errand, and presently reappeared with her armsfull of linen and other articles, which she carried into the sick-room. Later, the doctor came out attended by the judge. 

Claudia waylaid them with the questions:

"What is the nature of his injuries? are they fatal?"

"Not fatal; but very serious. One leg and arm are broken; and he is verybadly bruised; but worst of all is the great shock to his very sensitivenervous system, " was the reply of Doctor Jarvis. 

"When will you see him again, sir?" anxiously inquired Claudia. 

"In the course of the evening. I am not going back home for some hours, perhaps not for the night; I have a case at Gray's. "

"Indeed! that is the reason, then, I suppose, why no one has answered mymessage to come up and see Ishmael. But who is sick there?" inquiredClaudia. 

"Mrs. Gray. Good-afternoon, Miss Merlin, " said the doctor shortly, as hewalked out of the house attended by the judge. 

Claudia went to the door of Ishmael's room and rapped softly. 

Old Katie answered the summons. 

"Can I come in now, Katie?" asked Miss Merlin, a little impatiently. 

"Oh, yes, I s'pose so; I s'pose you'd die if you didn't!" answered thisprivileged old servant, holding open the door for Claudia's admittance. 

She passed softly into the darkened room, and approached the bedside. Ishmael lay there swathed in linen bandages and extended at full length, more like a shrouded corpse than a living boy. His eyes were closed andhis face was livid. 

"Is he asleep?" inquired Claudia, in a tone scarcely above her breath. 

"Sort o' sleep. You see, arter de doctor done set his arm an' leg, an'splintered of 'em up, an' boun' up his wounds an' bruises, he gib himsome'at to 'pose his nerves and make him sleep, an' it done hev him intodis state; which you see yourse'f is nyder sleep nor wake nor dead norlibe. "

Claudia saw indeed that he was under the effects of morphia. And with adeep sigh of strangely blended relief and apprehension, Claudia sankinto a chair beside his bed. 

And old Katie took that opportunity to slip out and eat her "bit ofdinner, " leaving Claudia watching. 

At the expiration of an hour Katie returned to her post. But Claudia didnot therefore quit hers. She remained seated beside the wounded boy. Allthat day he lay quietly, under the influence of morphia. Once the judgelooked in to inquire the state of the patient, and on being told thatthe boy still slept, he went off again. Late in the afternoon the doctorcame again, saw that his patient was at ease, left directions for histreatment, and then prepared to depart. 

"How is the sick woman at Gray's?" inquired Claudia. 

"Extremely ill. I am going immediately back there to remain until it isover; if I should be particularly wanted here, send there for me, " saidthe doctor. 

"Yes; but I am very sorry Mrs. Gray is so ill! She is Ishmael's aunt. What is the matter with her?"

"Humph!" answered the doctor. "Good-night, Miss Claudia. You will knowwhere to send for me, if I am wanted here. "

"Yes; but I am so sorry about Gray's wife! Is she in danger?" persistedClaudia. 

"Yes. "

"I am very sorry; but what ails her?" persevered Claudia. 

"Good-evening, Miss Merlin, " replied the doctor, lifting his hat anddeparting. 

"The man is half asleep; he has not answered my question, " grumbledClaudia, as she returned to her seat by the sick-bed. 

Just then the bell rung for the late dinner, and Claudia went out andcrossed the hall to the dining room, where she joined her father. Andwhile at dinner she gave him a more detailed account of her late danger, and the manner in which she was saved. 

Once more in the course of that evening Claudia looked in upon thewounded boy, to ascertain his condition before retiring to her room. Hewas still sleeping. 

"If he should wake up, you must call me, no matter what time of night itis, Katie, " said Miss Merlin, as she left the sick-chamber. 

"Yes, miss, " answered Katie, who nevertheless made up her mind to useher own discretion in the matter of obedience to this order. 

Claudia Merlin was not, as Ishmael was, of a religious disposition, yetnevertheless before she retired to bed she did kneel and pray for hisrestoration to life and health; for, somehow, the well-being of thepeasant youth was very precious to the heiress. Claudia could not sleep;she lay tumbling and tossing upon a restless and feverish couch. Theimage of that mangled and bleeding youth as she first saw him on theriver bank was ever before her. The gaze of his intensely earnest eyesas he raised them to hers, when he inquired, "Are you safe?"--and thedeep smile of joy with which they closed again when she answered, "I amsafe"--haunted her memory and troubled her spirit. Those looks, thosetones, had made a revelation to Claudia!--That the peasant boy presumedto love her!--her! Claudia Merlin, the heiress, angel-born, who scarcelydeemed there was in all democratic America a fitting match for her!

During the excitement and terror of the day, while the extent ofIshmael's injuries was still unknown and his life seemed in extremedanger, Claudia had not had leisure to receive the fact of Ishmael'slove, much less to reflect upon its consequences. But now that all wasknown and suspense was over, now in the silence and solitude of herbed-chamber, the images and impressions of the day returned to her withall their revelations and tendencies, and filled the mind of Claudiawith astonishment and consternation! That Ishmael Worth should becapable of loving her, seemed to Miss Merlin as miraculous as it wouldbe for Fido to be capable of talking to her! And in the wonder of theaffair she almost lost sight of its presumption!

But how should she deal with this presuming peasant boy, who had daredto love her, to risk his life to save hers, and to let the secret of hislove escape him?

For a long time Claudia could not satisfactorily answer this question, and this was what kept her awake all night. To neglect him, or to treathim with marked coldness, would be a cruel return for the sacrifice hehad rendered her; it would be besides making the affair of too muchimportance; and finally, it would be "against the grain" of Claudia'sown heart; for in a queenly way she loved this Ishmael very dearlyindeed; much more dearly than she loved Fido, or any four-footed pet shepossessed; and if he had happened to have been killed in her service, Claudia would have abandoned herself to grief for weeks afterwards, andshe would have had a headstone recording his heroism placed over hisgrave. 

After wearying herself out with conjectures as to what would be thebecoming line of conduct in a young princess who should discover that abrave peasant had fallen in love with her, Claudia at length determinedto ignore the fact that had come to her knowledge and act just as if shehad never discovered or even suspected its existence. 

"My dignity cannot suffer from his presumptuous folly, so long as I donot permit him to see that I know it; and as for the rest, this love maydo his character good; may elevate it!" And having laid this balm to herwounded pride, Claudia closed her eyes. 

So near sunrise was it when Miss Merlin dropped off that, once asleep, she continued to sleep on until late in the day. 

Meanwhile all the rest of the family were up and astir. The doctor cameearly and went in to see his patient. The judge breakfasted alone, andthen joined the doctor in the sick-room. Ishmael was awake, but pale, languid, and suffering. The doctor was seated beside him. He had justfinished dressing his wounds, and had ordered some light nourishment, which old Katie had left the room to bring. 

"How is your patient getting along, doctor?" inquired the judge. 

"Oh, he is doing very well--very well indeed, " replied the doctor, putting the best face on a bad affair, after the manner of his class. 

"How do you feel, my lad?" inquired the judge, bending over the patient. 

"In some pain; but no more than I can very well bear, thank you, sir, "said Ishmael courteously. But his white and quivering lip betrayed theextremity of his suffering, and the difficulty he experienced inspeaking at all. 

"I must beg, sir, that you will not talk to him; he must be left inperfect quietness, " whispered the doctor. 

At this moment old Katie returned with a little light jelly on a plate. The doctor slowly administered a few teaspoonfuls to his patient, andthen returned the plate to the nurse. 

"Miss Claudia ordered me to call her as soon as the young man woke; andnow as his wounds is dressed, and he has had somethin' to eat, I might'swell go call her, " suggested Katie. 

At the hearing of Claudia's name Ishmael's eyes flew open, and a hecticspot blazed upon his pale cheek. The doctor, who had his eye upon hispatient, noticed this, as he replied:

"Upon no account! Neither Miss Merlin nor anyone else must be permittedto enter his room for days to come--not until I give leave. You will seethis obeyed, judge?" he inquired, turning to his host. 

"Assuredly, " replied the latter. 

At these words the color faded from Ishmael's face and the light fromhis eyes. 

The doctor arose and took leave. 

The judge attended him to the door, saw him depart, and was in the actof turning into his own house when he perceived Reuben Gray approaching. 

Judge Merlin paused to wait for his overseer. Reuben Gray came up, tookoff his hat, and stood before his employer with the most comicalblending of emotions on his weather-beaten countenance, where joy, grief, satisfaction, and anxiety seemed to strive for the mastery. 

"Well, Gray, what is it?" inquired the judge. 

"Please, sir, how is Ishmael?" entreated Reuben, anxiety getting theupper hand for the moment. 

"He is badly hurt, Gray; but doing very well, the doctor says. "

"Please, sir, can I see him?"

"Not upon any account for the present; he must be left in perfect quiet. But why haven't you been up to inquire after him before this?"

"Ah, sir, the state of my wife. "

"Oh, yes, I heard she was ill; but did not know that she was so ill asto prevent your coming to see after your poor boy. I hope she is betternow?"

"Yes, sir, thank Heaven, she is well over it!" said Reuben, satisfactionnow expressed in every lineament of his honest face. 

"What was the matter with her? Was it the cholera morbus, that is soprevalent at this season?"

Reuben grinned from ear to ear; but did not immediately reply. 

The judge looked as if he still expected an answer. Reuben scratched hisgray head, and looked up from the corner of his eye, as he at lengthreplied:

"It was a boy and a gal, sir!"

"A what?" questioned the judge--perplexity. 

"A boy and a gal, sir; twins, sir, they is, " replied Reuben Gray, joygetting the mastery over every other expression in his beamingcountenance. 

"Why--you don't mean to tell me that your wife has presented you withtwins?" exclaimed the judge, both surprised and amused at theannouncement. 

"Well, yes, sir, " said Reuben proudly. 

"But you are such an elderly couple!" laughed the judge. 

"Well, yes, sir, so we is! And that, I take it, is the very reason on't. You see, I think, sir, because we married very late in life--poor Hannahand me--natur' took a consideration on to it, and, as we hadn't muchtime before us, she sent us two at once! at least, if that aint thereason, I can't account for them both in any other way!" said Reuben, looking up. 

"That's it! You've hit it, Reuben!" said the judge, laughing. "And mind, if they live, I'll stand godfather to the babies at the christening. Arethey fine healthy children?"

"As bouncing babies, sir, as ever you set eyes on!" answered Reubentriumphantly. 

"Count on me, then, Gray. "

"Thank you, sir! And, your honor--"

"Well, Gray?"

"Soon as ever Ishmael is able to hear the news, tell him, will you, please? I think it will set him up, and help him on towards hisrecovery. "

"I think so, too, " said the judge. 

Reuben touched his hat and withdrew. And the judge returned to thehouse. 

Claudia had come down and breakfasted, but was in a state of greatannoyance because she was denied admittance to the bedside of hersuffering favorite. 

The judge, to divert her thoughts, told her of the bountiful presentnature had made to Hannah and Reuben Gray. At which Miss Claudia was sopleased that she got up and went to hunt through all her finery forpresents for the children. 

CHAPTER XLIII. 

THE HEIRESS. 

 Trust me, Clara Vere de Vere, From yon blue heavens above us bent, The grand old gardener and his wife Smile at the claims of long descent, Howe'er it be, it seems to me, 'Tis only noble to be good; Kind hearts are more than coronets, And simple faith than Norman blood. 

 --_Tennyson_. 

Almost any other youth than Ishmael Worth would have died of suchinjuries as he had sustained. But owing to that indestructible vitalityand irrepressible elasticity of organization which had carried himsafely through the deadly perils of his miserable infancy, he survived. 

About the fourth day of his illness the irritative fever of his woundshaving been subdued, Judge Merlin was admitted to see and converse withhim. 

Up to this morning the judge had thought of the victim only as theoverseer's nephew, a poor, laboring youth about the estate, who had gothurt in doing his duty and stopping Miss Merlin's runaway horses; and hesupposed that he, Judge Merlin, had done his part in simply taking thesuffering youth into his own house and having him properly attended to. And now the judge went to the patient with the intention of praising hiscourage and offering him some proper reward for his services--as, forinstance, a permanent situation to work on the estate for good wages. 

And so Judge Merlin entered the sick-chamber, which was no longerdarkened, but had all the windows open to admit the light and air. 

He took a chair and seated himself by the bedside of the patient, andfor the first time took a good look at him. 

Ishmael's handsome face, no longer distorted by suffering, was calm andclear; his eyes were closed in repose but not in sleep, for the momentthe judge "hemmed" he raised his eyelids and greeted his host with agentle smile and nod. 

Judge Merlin could not but be struck with the delicacy, refinement, andintellectuality of Ishmael's countenance. 

"How do you feel yourself this morning, my lad?" he inquired, puttingthe usual commonplace question. 

"Much easier, thank you, sir, " replied the youth, in the pure, sweet, modulated tones of a highly-cultivated nature. 

The judge was surprised, but did not show that he was so, as he said:

"You have done my daughter a great service; but at the cost of muchsuffering to yourself, I fear, my lad. "

"I consider myself very fortunate and happy, sir, in having had theprivilege of rendering Miss Merlin any service, at whatever cost tomyself, " replied Ishmael, with graceful courtesy. 

More and more astonished at the words and manner of the young workman, the judge continued:

"Thank you, young man; very properly spoken--very properly: but for allthat, I must find some way of rewarding you. "

"Sir, " said Ishmael, with gentle dignity, "I must beg you will not speakto me of reward for a simple act of instinctive gallantry that any man, worthy of the name, would have performed. "

"But with you, young man, the case was different, " said the judgeloftily. 

"True, sir, " replied our youth, with sweet and courteous dignity, "withme the case was very different; because, with me, it was a matter ofself-interest; for the service rendered to Miss Merlin was rendered tomyself. "

"I do not understand you, young man, " said the judge haughtily. 

"Pardon me, sir. I mean that in saving Miss Merlin from injury I savedmyself from despair. If any harm had befallen her I should have beenmiserable; so you perceive, sir, that the act you are good enough toterm a great service was too natural and too selfish to be praised orrewarded; and so I must beseech you to speak of it in that relation nomore. "

"But what was my daughter to you that you should risk your life for her, more than for another? or that her maimed limbs or broken neck shouldaffect you more than others?"

"Sir, we were old acquaintances; I saw her every day when I went to Mr. Middleton's, and she was ever exceedingly kind to me, " replied Ishmael. 

"Oh! and you lived in that neighborhood?" inquired Judge Merlin, whoimmediately jumped to the conclusion that Ishmael had been employed as alaborer on Mr. Middleton's estate; though still he could not possiblyaccount for the refinement in Ishmael's manner nor the excellence of hislanguage. 

"I lived in that neighborhood with my Aunt Hannah until Uncle Reubenmarried her, when I accompanied them to this place, " answered Ishmael. 

"Ah! and you saw a great deal of Mr. Middleton and--and his family?"

"I saw them every day, sir; they were very, very kind to me. "

"Every day! then you must have been employed about the house, " said thejudge. 

An arch smile beamed in the eyes of Ishmael as he answered:

"Yes, sir, I was employed about the house--that is to say, in theschoolroom. "

"Ah! to sweep it out and keep it in order, I suppose; and, doubtless, there was where you contracted your superior tone of manners andconversation, " thought the judge to himself, but he replied aloud:

"Well, young man, we will say no more of rewards, since the word isdistasteful to you; but as soon as you can get strong again, I should bepleased to give you work about the place at fair wages. Our miller wantsa white boy to go around with the grist. Would you like the place?"

"I thank you, sir, no; my plans for the future are fixed; that is, asnearly fixed as those of short-sighted mortals can be, " smiled Ishmael. 

"Ah, indeed!" exclaimed the judge, raising his eyebrows, "and may I, asone interested in your welfare, inquire what those plans may be?"

"Certainly, sir, and I thank you very much for the interest you express, as well as for all your kindness to me. " Ishmael paused for a moment andthen added:

"On the first of September I shall open the Rushy Shore schoolhouse, forthe reception of day pupils. "

"Whe-ew!" said the judge, with a low whistle, "and do you really mean tobe a schoolmaster?"

"For the present, sir, until a better one can be found to fill theplace; then, indeed, I shall feel bound in honor and conscience toresign my post, for I do not believe teaching to be my true vocation. "

"No! I should think not, indeed!" replied Judge Merlin, who of coursesupposed the overseer's nephew, notwithstanding the grace and courtesyof his speech and manner, to be fit for nothing but manual labor. "Whatever induces you to try school-keeping?" he inquired. 

"I am driven to it by my own necessities, and drawn to it by thenecessities of others. In other words, I need employment, and theneighborhood needs a teacher--and I think, sir, that one whoconscientiously does his best is better than none at all. Those are thereasons, sir, why I have taken the school, with the intention of keepingit until a person more competent than myself to discharge its dutiesshall be found, when I shall give it up; for, as I said before, teachingis not my ultimate vocation. "

"What is your 'ultimate vocation, ' young man? for I should like to helpyou to it, " said the judge, still thinking only of manual labor in allits varieties; "what is it?"

"Jurisprudence, " answered Ishmael. 

"Juris--what?" demanded the judge, as if he had not heard aright. 

"Jurisprudence--the science of human justice; the knowledge of the laws, customs, and rights of man in communities; the study above all othersmost necessary to the due administration of justice in human affairs, and even in divine, and second only to that of theology, " repliedIshmael, with grave enthusiasm. 

"But--you don't mean to say that you intend to become a lawyer?"exclaimed the judge, in a state of astonishment that bordered onconsternation. 

"Yes, sir; I intend to be a lawyer, if it please the Lord to bless myearnest efforts, " replied the youth reverently. 

"Why--I am a lawyer!" exclaimed the judge. 

"I am aware that you are a very distinguished one, sir, having risen tothe bench of the Supreme Court of your native State, " replied the youthrespectfully. 

The judge remained in a sort of panic of astonishment. The thought inhis mind was this: What--you? you, the nephew of my overseer, have youthe astounding impudence, the madness, to think that you can enter aprofession of which I am a member?

Ishmael saw that thought reflected in his countenance and smiled tohimself. 

"But--how do you propose ever to become a lawyer?" inquired the judge, aloud. 

"By reading law, " answered Ishmael simply. 

"What! upon your own responsibility?"

"Upon my own responsibility for a while. I shall try afterwards toenter the office of some lawyer. I shall use every faculty, try everymeans and improve every opportunity that Heaven grants me for this end. And thus I hope to succeed, " said Ishmael gravely. 

"Are you aware, " inquired the judge, with a little sarcasm in his tone, "that some knowledge of the classics is absolutely necessary to thesuccess of a lawyer?"

"I am aware that a knowledge of the classics is very desirable in eachand all of what are termed the 'learned professions'; but I did notknow, and I do not think, that it can be absolutely necessary in everygrade of each of these; but if so, it is well for me that I have a fairknowledge of Latin and Greek, " replied Ishmael. 

"What did you say?" inquired the judge, with ever-increasing wonder. 

Ishmael blushed at the perception that while he only meant to state afact, he might be suspected of making a boast. 

"Did you say that you knew anything of Latin and Greek?" inquired thejudge, in amazement. 

"Something of both, sir, " replied Ishmael modestly. 

"But surely you never picked up a smattering of the classics whilesweeping out Middleton's family schoolroom!"

"Oh, no, sir!" laughed Ishmael. 

"Where then?"

Ishmael's reply was lost in the bustling entrance of Doctor Jarvis, whomJudge Merlin arose to receive. 

The doctor examined the condition of his patient, found him with anaccession of fever, prescribed a complete repose for the remainder ofthe day, left some medicine with directions for its administration, anddeparted. The judge accompanied the doctor to the door. 

"That is a rather remarkable boy, " observed Judge Merlin, as they wentout together. 

"A very remarkable one! Who is he?" asked Doctor Jarvis. 

"The nephew of my overseer, Reuben Gray. That is absolutely all I knowabout it. "

"The nephew of Gray? Can it be so? Why, Gray is but an ignorant boor, while this youth has the manners and education of a gentleman--apolished gentleman!" exclaimed the doctor, in astonishment. 

"It is true, and I can make nothing of it, " said Judge Merlin, shakinghis head. 

"How very strange, " mused the doctor, as he mounted his horse, bowed androde away. 

CHAPTER XLIV. 

CLAUDIA'S PERPLEXITIES. 

 Oh, face most fair, shall thy beauty compare With affection's glowing light? Oh, riches and pride, how fade ye beside Love's wealth, serene and bright. 

 --_Martin F. Tupper_. 

Judge Merlin went into his well-ordered library, rang the bell, and senta servant to call his daughter. 

The messenger found Claudia walking impatiently up and down thedrawing-room floor and turning herself at each wall with an angry jerk. Claudia had not yet been admitted to see Ishmael. She had just beenrefused again by old Katie, who acted upon the doctor's authority, andClaudia was unreasonably furious with everybody. 

Claudia instantly obeyed the summons. She entered the library with hastysteps, closed the door with a bang, and stood before her father withflushed cheeks, sparkling eyes, and heaving bosom. 

"Hey, dey! what's the matter?" asked the judge, taking his pipe from hismouth and staring at his daughter. 

"You sent for me, papa! I hope it is to take me in to see that poor, half-crushed boy! What does old Katie mean by forever denying meentrance? It is not every day that a poor lad risks his life and getshimself crushed nearly to death in my service, that I should be made toappear to neglect him in this way! What must the boy think of me? Whatdoes old Katie mean, I ask?"

"If your nature requires a vehement expression, of course I am not theone to repress it! Still, in my opinion, vehemency is unworthy of arational being, at all times, and especially when, as now, there is notthe slightest occasion for it. You have not willfully neglected theyoung man; it is not of the least consequence whether he thinks youhave, or not; and, finally, Katie means to obey the doctor's orders, which are to keep every living soul out of the sick-room to secure thepatient needful repose. I believe I have answered you, Miss Merlin, "replied the judge, smiling and coolly replacing his pipe in his mouth. 

"Papa, what a disagreeable wet blanket you are, to be sure!"

"It is my nature to be so, my dear; and I am just what you need todampen the fire of your temperament. "

"Are those the orders of the doctor?"

"What, wet blankets for you?"

"No; but that everybody must be excluded from Ishmael's room?"

"Yes; his most peremptory orders, including even me for the present. "

"Then I suppose they must be submitted to?"

"For the present, certainly. "

Claudia shrugged her shoulders with an impatient gesture, and then said:

"You sent for me, papa. Was it for anything particular?"

"Yes; to question you. Have you been long acquainted with this IshmaelGray?"

"Ishmael Worth, papa! Yes, I have known him well ever since you placedme with my Aunt Middleton, " replied Claudia, throwing herself into achair. 

The judge was slowly walking up and down the library, and he continuedhis walk as he conversed with his daughter. 

"Who is this Ishmael Worth, then?"

"You know, papa; the nephew of Reuben Gray, or rather of his wife; butit is the same thing. "

"I know he is the nephew of Reuben Gray; but that explains nothing! Grayis a rude, ignorant, though well-meaning boor; but this lad is arefined, graceful, and cultivated young man. "

Claudia made no comment upon this. 

"Now, if you have known him so many years, you ought to be able toexplain this inconsistency. One does not expect to find nightingales incrows' nests, " said the judge. 

Still Miss Merlin was silent. 

"Why don't you speak, my dear?"

Claudia blushed over her face, neck, and bosom as she answered:

"Papa, what shall I say? You force me to remember things I would like toforget. Socially, Ishmael Worth was born the lowest of all the low. Naturally, he was endowed with the highest moral and intellectual gifts. He is in a great measure self-educated. In worldly position he isbeneath our feet: in wisdom and goodness he is far, far above ourheads. He is one of nature's princes, but one of society's outcasts. "

"But how has the youth contrived to procure the means of such educationas he has?" inquired the judge, seating himself opposite his daughter. 

"Papa, I will tell you all I know about him, " replied Claudia. And shecommenced and related the history of Ishmael's struggles, trials, andtriumphs, from the hour of her first meeting with him in front ofHamlin's book shop to that of his self-immolation to save her fromdeath. Claudia spoke with deep feeling. As she concluded her bosom washeaving, her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes tearful with emotion. 

"And now, papa, " she said, as she finished her narrative, "you willunderstand why it is that I cannot, must not, will not, neglect him! Assoon as he can bear visitors I must be admitted to his room, to do forhim all that a young sister might do for her brother; no one couldreasonably cavil at that. Papa, Ishmael believes in me more than anyoneelse in the world does. He thinks more highly of me than others do. Heknows that there is something better in me than this mere outside beautythat others praise so foolishly. And I would not like to lose his goodopinion, papa. I could not bear to have him think me cold, selfish, orungrateful. So I must and I will help to nurse him. "

"Miss Merlin, you have grown up very much as my trees have, with everynatural eccentricity of growth untrimmed; but I hope you will not letyour branches trail upon the earth. "

"What do you mean, papa?"

"I hope you do not mean to play Catherine to this boy's Huon in a newversion of the drama of 'Love; or, The Countess and the Serf!"

"Papa! how can you say such things to your motherless daughter! You knowthat I would die first!" exclaimed the imperious girl indignantly, asshe bounced up and flung herself into a passion and out of the room. Sheleft the door wide open; but had scarcely disappeared before her placein the doorway was filled up by the tall, gaunt figure, gray head, andsmiling face of Reuben. 

"Well, Gray?"

"Well, sir, I have brought the farm books all made up to the first ofthis month, sir, " said the overseer, laying the volumes on the tablebefore his master. 

"And very neatly and accurately done, too, " remarked the judge, as heturned over the pages and examined the items. "It is not yourhandwriting, Gray?"

"Dear, no, sir! not likely!"

"Nor little Kitty's?"

"Why, law, sir! little Kitty has been in Californy a year or more! Howdid you like the 'rangement of your liber-airy, sir?" inquired Gray, with apparent irrelevance, as he glanced around upon the book-linedwalls. 

"Very much, indeed, Gray! I never had my books so well classified. Itwas the work of young Ramsey, the schoolmaster, I suppose, and furnishedhim with employment during the midsummer holidays. You must tell himthat I am very much pleased with the work and that he must send in hisaccount immediately. "

"Law bless you, sir; it was not Master Ramsey as did it, " said Gray, with a broad grin. 

"Who, then? Whoever it was, it is all the same to me; I am pleased withthe work, and willing to testify my approval by a liberal payment. "

"It was the same hand, sir, as made out the farm-books. "

"And who was that?"

"It was my nephew, Ishmael Worth, sir, " replied Reuben, with a littlepardonable pride. 

"Ishmael Worth again!" exclaimed the judge. 

"Yes, sir; he done 'em both. "

"That is an intelligent lad of yours, Gray. "

"Well, sir, he is just a wonder. "

"How do you account for his being so different from--from--"

"From me and Hannah?" inquired the simple Reuben, helping the judge outof his difficulty. "Well, sir, I s'pose as how his natur' were diff'ent, and so he growed up diff'ent accordin' to his natur'. Human creetersdiffer like wegetables, sir; some one sort and some another. Me andHannah, sir, we's like plain 'tatoes; but Ishmael, sir, is like a rich, bright blooming peach! That's the onliest way as I can explain it, sir. "

"A very satisfactory explanation, Gray! How are Hannah and thosewonderful twins?"

"Fine, sir; fine, thank Heaven! Miss Claudia was so good as to send wordas how she would come to see Hannah as soon as she was able to seecompany. Now Hannah is able to-day, sir, and would be proud to see MissClaudia and to show her the babbies. "

"Very well, Gray! I will let my daughter know, " said the judge, risingfrom his chair. 

Reuben took this as a hint that his departure was desirable, and so hemade his bow and his exit. 

In another moment, however, he reappeared, holding his hat in his handand saying:

"I beg your pardon, sir. "

"Well, what now? what is it, Gray? What's forgotten?"

"If you please, sir, to give my duty to Miss Claudia, and beg her not tolet poor Hannah know as Ishmael has been so badly hurt. When she missedhim we told her how he was staying up here long of your honor, and shenaturally thinks how he is a-doing some more liber-airy work for you;and we dar'n't tell her any better or how the truth is, for fear ofheaving of her back, sir. "

"Very well; I will caution Miss Merlin. "

"And I hope, sir, as you and Miss Claudia will pardon the liberty I takein mentioning of the matter; which I wouldn't go for to do it, if poorHannah's safety were not involved. "

"Certainly, certainly, Gray, I can appreciate your feelings as a husbandand father. "

"Thank your honor, " said Reuben, as he departed. 

The judge kept his word to the overseer, and the same hour conveyed tohis daughter the invitation and the caution. 

Claudia was moped half to death, and desired nothing better than alittle amusement. So the same afternoon she set out on her walk toWoodside, followed by her own maid Mattie, carrying a large basketfilled with fine laces, ribbons, and beads to deck the babies, andwines, cordials, and jellies to nourish the mother. 

On arriving at Woodside Cottage Miss Merlin was met by Sally, thecolored maid of all work, and shown immediately into a neat bedroom onthe ground floor, where she found Hannah sitting in state in herresting-chair beside her bed, and contemplating with maternalsatisfaction the infant prodigies that lay in a cradle at her feet. 

"Do not attempt to rise! I am so glad to see you looking so well, Mrs. Gray! I am Miss Merlin, " was Claudia's frank greeting, as she approachedHannah, and held out her hand. 

"Thank you, miss; you are very good to come; and I am glad to see you, "said the proud mother, heartily shaking the hand offered by the visitor. 

"I wish you much joy of your fine children, Mrs. Gray. "

"Thank you very much, miss. Pray sit down. Sally, hand a chair. "

The maid of all work brought one, which Claudia took, saying:

"Now let me see the twins. "

Hannah stooped and raised the white dimity coverlet, and proudlydisplayed her treasures--two fat, round, red-faced babies, calmlysleeping side by side. 

What woman or girl ever looked upon sleeping infancy without pleasure?Claudia's face brightened into beaming smiles as she contemplated thesechildren, and exclaimed:

"They are beauties! I want you to let me help to dress them up fine, Mrs. Gray! I have no little brothers and sisters, nor nephews andnieces; and I should like so much to have a part property in these!"

"You are too good, Miss Merlin. "

"I am not good at all. I like to have my own way. I should like to petand dress these babies. I declare, for the want of a little brother orsister to pet, I could find it in my heart to dress a doll! See, now, what I have brought for these babies! Let the basket down, Mattie, andtake the things out. "

Miss Merlin's maid obeyed, and displayed to the astonished eyes ofHannah yards of cambric, muslin, and lawn, rolls of lace, ribbon, andbeads, and lots of other finery. 

Hannah's eyes sparkled. That good woman had never been covetous forherself, but for those children she could become so. She had too muchsurly pride to accept favors for herself, but for those children shecould do so; not, however, without some becoming hesitation andreluctance. 

"It is too much, Miss Merlin. All these articles are much too costly forme to accept, or for the children to wear, " she began. 

But Claudia silenced her with:

"Nonsense! I know very well that you do not in your heart think thatthere is anything on earth too fine for those babies to wear. And as fortheir being costly, that is my business. Mattie, lay these things onMrs. Gray's bureau. "

Again Mattie obeyed her mistress, and then set the empty basket down onthe floor. 

"Now, Mattie, the other basket. "

Mattie brought it. 

"Mrs. Gray, these wines, cordials, and jellies are all of domesticmanufacture--Katie's own make; and she declares them to be the bestpossible supports for invalids in your condition, " said Miss Merlin, uncovering the second basket. 

"But really and indeed, miss, you are too kind. I cannot think ofaccepting all these good things from you. "

"Mattie, arrange all those pots, jars, and bottles on the mantel shelf, until somebody comes to take them away, " said Claudia, without payingthe least attention to Hannah's remonstrances. 

When this order was also obeyed, and Mattie stood with both baskets onher arms, waiting for further instructions, Miss Merlin arose, saying:

"And now, Mrs. Gray, I must bid you good-afternoon. I cannot keep papawaiting dinner for me. But I will come to see you again to-morrow, ifyou will allow me to do so. "

"Miss Merlin, I should be proud and happy to see you as often as youthink fit to come. "

"And, mind, I am to stand god-mother to the twins. "

"Certainly, miss, if you please to do so. "

"By the way, what is to be their names?"

"John and Mary, miss--after Reuben's father and my mother. "

"Very well; I will be spiritually responsible for John and Mary!Good-by, Mrs. Gray. "

"Good-by, and thank you, Miss Merlin. "

Claudia shook hands and departed. She had scarcely got beyond thethreshold of the chamber door when she heard the voice of Hannah callingher back:

"Miss Merlin!"

Claudia returned. 

"I beg your pardon, miss; but I hear my nephew, Ishmael Worth, is up atthe house, doing something for the judge. "

"He is up there, " answered Claudia evasively. 

"Well, do pray tell him, my dear Miss Merlin, if you please, that I wantto see him as soon as he can possibly get home. Oh! I beg your pardon athousand times for taking the liberty of asking you, miss. "

"I will tell him, " said Claudia, smiling and retiring. 

When Miss Merlin had gone Hannah stooped and contemplated her own twochildren with a mother's insatiable pride and love. Suddenly she burstinto penitential tears and wept. 

Why?

She was gazing upon her own two fine, healthy, handsome babies, thatwere so much admired, so well beloved, and so tenderly cared for; andshe was remembering little Ishmael in his poor orphaned infancy--sopale, thin, and sickly, so disliked, avoided, and neglected! At thisremembrance her penitent heart melted in remorseful tenderness. Theadvent of her own children had shown to Hannah by retrospective actionall the cruelty and hardness of heart she had once felt and showntowards Ishmael. 

"But I will make it all up to him--poor, dear boy! I will make it all upto him in the future! Oh, how hard my heart was towards him! as if hecould have helped being born, poor fellow! How badly I treated him!Suppose now, as a punishment for my sin, I was to die and leave my babesto be despised, neglected, and wished dead by them as had the care of'em! How would I feel? although my children are so much healthier andstronger, and better able to bear neglect than ever Ishmael was, poor, poor fellow! It is a wonder he ever lived through it all. Surely, onlyGod sustained him, for he was bereft of nearly all human help. Oh, Nora!Nora! I never did my duty to your boy; but I will do it now, if God willonly forgive and spare me for the work!" concluded Hannah, as she raisedboth her own children to her lap. 

Meanwhile, attended by her maid, Miss Merlin went on her way homeward. She reached Tanglewood in time for dinner, at six o'clock. 

At table the judge said to her:

"Well, Claudia! the doctor has been here on his evening visit, and hesays that you may see our young patient in the morning, after he has hadhis breakfast; but that no visitor must be admitted to his chamber atany later hour of the day. "

"Very well, papa. I hope you will give old Katie to understand that, soshe may not give me any trouble when I apply at the door, " smiledClaudia. 

"Katie understands it all, my dear, " said the judge. 

And so it was arranged that Claudia should visit her young preserver onthe following morning. 

CHAPTER XLV. 

THE INTERVIEW. 

 The lady of his love re-entered there; She was serene and smiling then, and yet She knew she was by him beloved--she knew, For quickly comes such knowledge, that his heart Was darken'd by her shadow; and she saw That he was wretched; but she saw not all. He took her hand, a moment o'er his face A tablet of unutterable thoughts Was traced, and then it faded as it came. 

 --_Byron_. 

It was as yet early morning; but the day promised to be sultry, and allthe windows of Ishmael's chamber were open to facilitate the freestpassage of air. Ishmael lay motionless upon his cool, white bed, lettinghis glances wander abroad, whither his broken limbs could no longercarry him. 

His room, being a corner one, rejoiced in four large windows, twolooking east and two north. Close up to these windows grew theclustering woods. Amid their branches even the wildest birds builtnests, and their strange songs mingled with the rustle of the goldengreen leaves as they glimmered in the morning sun and breeze. 

It was a singular combination, that comfortable room, abounding in allthe elegancies of the highest civilization, and that untroddenwilderness in which the whip-poor-will cried and the wild eaglescreamed. 

And Ishmael, as he looked through the dainty white-draped windows intothe tremulous shadows of the wood, understood how the descendant ofPowhatan, weary of endless brick walls, dusty streets, and crowdedthoroughfares, should, as soon as he was free from official duties, flyto the opposite extreme of all these--to his lodge in this unbrokenforest, where scarcely a woodman's ax had sounded, where scarcely ahuman foot had fallen. He sympathized with the "monomania" of RandolphMerlin in not permitting a thicket to be thinned out, a road to beopened, or a tree to be trimmed on his wild woodland estate; so thathere at least, nature should have her own way, with no hint of theworld's labor and struggle to disturb her vital repose. 

As these reveries floated through the clear, active brain of the invalidyouth, the door of his chamber softly opened. 

Why did Ishmael's heart bound in his bosom, and every pulse throb?

She stood within the open doorway! How lovely she looked, with her soft, white muslin morning dress floating freely around her graceful form, andher glittering jet black ringlets shading her snowy forehead, shadowyeyes, and damask cheeks!

She closed the door as softly as she had opened it, and advanced intothe room. 

Old Katie arose from some obscure corner and placed a chair for her nearthe head of Ishmael's bed on his right side. 

Claudia sank gently into this seat and turned her face towards Ishmael, and attempted to speak; but a sudden, hysterical rising in her throatchoked her voice. 

Her eyes had taken in all at a glance!--the splintered leg, the bandagedarm, the plastered chest, the ashen complexion, the sunken cheeks andthe hollow eyes of the poor youth; and utterance failed her!

But Ishmael gently and respectfully pressed the hand she had given him, and smiled as he said:

"It is very kind of you to come and see me, Miss Merlin. I thank youearnestly. " For, however strong Ishmael's emotions might have been, hepossessed the self-controlling power of an exalted nature. 

"Oh, Ishmael!" was all that Claudia found ability to say; her voice waschoked, her bosom heaving, her face pallid. 

"Pray, pray, do not disturb yourself, Miss Merlin; indeed I am doingvery well, " said the youth, smiling. The next instant he turned away hisface; it was to conceal a spasm of agony that suddenly sharpened all hisfeatures, blanched his lips, and forced the cold sweat out on his brow. But Claudia had seen it. 

"Oh, I fear you suffer very much, " she said. 

The spasm had passed as quickly as it came. He turned to her his smilingeyes. 

"I fear you suffer very, very much, " she repeated, looking at him. 

"Oh, no, not much; see how soon the pain passed away. "

"Ah! but it was so severe while it lasted! I saw that it caught yourbreath away! I saw it, though you tried to hide it! Ah! you do suffer, Ishmael! and for me! me, " she cried, forgetting her pride in the excessof her sympathy. 

The smile in Ishmael's dark blue eyes deepened to ineffable tendernessand beauty as he answered softly:

"It is very, very sweet to suffer for--one we esteem and honor. "

"I am not worth an hour of your pain!" exclaimed Claudia, with somethingvery like self-reproach. 

"Oh, Miss Merlin, if you knew how little I should value my life incomparison with your safety. " Ishmael paused; for he felt that perhapshe was going too far. 

"I think that you have well proved how ready you are to sacrifice yourlife for the preservation, not only of your friends, but of your veryfoes! I have not forgotten your rescue of Alf and Ben Burghe, " said theheiress emphatically, yet a little coldly, as if, while anxious to givehim the fullest credit and the greatest honor for courage, generosity, and magnanimity, she was desirous to disclaim any personal interest hemight feel for herself. 

"There is a difference, Miss Merlin, " said Ishmael, with gentle dignity. 

"Oh, I suppose there is; one would rather risk one's life for a friendthan for an enemy, " replied Claudia icily. 

"I have displeased you, Miss Merlin; I am very sorry for it. Pray, forgive me, " said Ishmael, with a certain suave and stately courtesy, for which the youth was beginning to be noted. 

"Oh, you have not displeased me, Ishmael! How could you, you who havejust risked and almost sacrificed your life to save mine! No, you havenot displeased; but you have surprised me! I would not have had you runany risk for me, Ishmael, that you would not have run for the humblestnegro on my father's plantation; that is all. "

"Miss Merlin, I would have run any risk to save anyone at need; but Imight not have borne the after consequences in all cases with equalpatience--equal pleasure. Ah, Miss Merlin, forgive me, if I am now happyin my pain! forgive me this presumption, for it is the only question atissue between us, " said the youth, with a pleading glance. 

"Oh, Ishmael, let us not talk any more about me! Talk of yourself. Tellme how you are, and where you feel pain. "

"Nowhere much, Miss Merlin. "

"Papa told me that two of your limbs were broken and your chest injured, and now I see all that for myself. "

"My injuries are doing very well. My broken bones are knitting togetheragain as fast as they possibly can, my physician says. "

"But that is a very painful process I fear, " said Claudiacompassionately. 

"Indeed, no; I do not find it so. "

"Ah! your face shows what you endure. It is your chest, then, that hurtsyou?"

"My chest is healing very rapidly. Do not distress your kind heart, MissMerlin; indeed, I am doing very well. "

"You are very patient, and therefore you will do well, if you are notdoing so now. Ishmael, now that I am permitted to visit you, I shallcome every day. But they have limited me to fifteen minutes' stay thismorning, and my time is up. Good-morning, Ishmael. "

"Good-morning, Miss Merlin. May the Lord bless you, " said Ishmael, respectfully pressing the hand she gave him. 

"I will come again to-morrow; and then if you continue to grow better, Imay be allowed to remain with you for half an hour, " she said, rising. 

"Thank you, Miss Merlin; I shall try to grow better; you have given me agreat incentive to improvement. "

Claudia's face grew grave again. She bowed coldly and left the room. 

As soon as the door had closed behind her Ishmael's long-strained nervesbecame relaxed, and his countenance changed again in one of those awfulspasms of pain to which he was now so subject. The paroxysm, kept off byforce of will, for Claudia's sake, during her stay, now took its revengeby holding the victim longer in its grasp. A minute or two of mortalagony and then is was past, and the patient was relieved. 

"I don't know what you call pain; but if dis'ere aint pain, I don't wantto set no worser de longest day as ever I live!" exclaimed Katie, whostood by the bedside wiping the deathly dew from the icy brow of thesufferer. 

"But you see--it lasts so short a time--it is already gone, " gaspedIshmael faintly. "It is no sooner come than gone, " he added, with asmile. 

"And no sooner gone, nor come again! And a-most taking of your life whenit do come!" said Katie, placing a cordial to the ashen lips of thesufferer. 

The stimulant revived his strength, brought color to his cheeks andlight to his eyes. 

Ishmael's next visitor was Reuben Gray, who was admitted to see him fora few minutes only. This was Reuben's first visit to the invalid, andas under the transient influence of the stimulant Ishmael lookedbrighter than usual, Reuben thought that he must be getting onremarkably well, and congratulated him accordingly. 

Ishmael smilingly returned the compliment by wishing Gray joy of his sonand daughter. 

Reuben grinned with delight and expatiated on their beauty, until it wastime for him to take leave. 

"Your Aunt Hannah don't know as you've been hurt, my boy; we dar'n'ttell her, for fear of the consequences. But now as you really do seem tobe getting on so well, and as she is getting strong so fast, andcontinually asking arter you, I think I will just go and tell her allabout it, and as how there is no cause to be alarmed no more, " saidReuben, as he stood, hat in hand, by Ishmael's bed. 

"Yes, do, Uncle Reuben, else she will think I neglect her, " pleadedIshmael. 

Reuben promised, and then took his departure. 

That was the last visit Ishmael received that day. 

Reuben kept his word, and as soon as he got home he gradually broke toHannah the news of Ishmael's accident, softening the matter as much aspossible, softening it out of all truth, for when the anxious womaninsisted on knowing exactly the extent of her nephew's injuries, poorReuben, alarmed for the effect upon his wife's health, boldly affirmedthat there was nothing worse in Ishmael's case than a badly sprainedankle, that confined him to the house! And it was weeks longer beforeHannah heard the truth of the affair. 

The next day Claudia Merlin repeated her visit to Ishmael, and remainedwith him for half an hour. 

And from that time she visited his room daily, increasing each day thelength of her stay. 

Ishmael's convalescence was very protracted. The severe injuries thatmust have caused the death of a less highly vitalized human creaturereally confined Ishmael for weeks to his bed and for months to thehouse. It was four weeks before he could leave his bed for a sofa. Andit was about that time that Hannah got out again; and incredulous, anxious, and angry all at once, walked up to Tanglewood to find out forherself whether it was a "sprained ankle" only that kept her nephewconfined there. 

Mrs. Gray was shown at once to the convalescent's room, where Ishmael, whose very breath was pure truth, being asked, told her all about hisinjuries. 

Poor Hannah wept tears of retrospective pity; but did not in her inmostheart blame Gray for the "pious fraud" he had practiced with the view ofsaving her own feelings at a critical time. She would have had Ishmaelconveyed immediately to Woodside, that she might nurse him herself; butneither the doctor, the judge, nor the heiress would consent to hisremoval; and so Hannah had to submit to their will and leave her nephewwhere he was. But she consoled herself by walking over every afternoonto see Ishmael. 

Claudia usually spent several hours of the forenoon in Ishmael'scompany. He was still very weak, pale, and thin. His arm was in a sling, and as it was his right arm, as well as his right leg that had beenbroken, he could not use a crutch; so that he was confined all day tothe sofa or the easy-chair, in which his nurse would place him in themorning. 

Claudia devoted herself to his amusement with all a sister's care. Sheread to him; sung to him, accompanying her song with the guitar; and sheplayed chess--Ishmael using his left hand to move the pieces. 

Claudia knew that this gifted boy worshiped her with a passionate lovethat was growing deeper, stronger, and more ardent every day. She knewthat probably his peace of mind would be utterly wrecked by his fatalpassion. She knew all this, and yet she would not withdraw herself, either suddenly or gradually. The adoration of this young, pure, exaltedsoul was an intoxicating incense that had become a daily habit andnecessity to the heiress. But she tacitly required it to be a silentoffering. So long as her lover worshiped her only with his eyes, tones, and manners, she was satisfied, gracious, and cordial; but the instanthe was betrayed into any words of admiration or interest in her, shegrew cold and haughty, she chilled and repelled him. 

And yet she did not mean to trifle with his affections or destroy hispeace; but--it was very dull in the country, and Claudia had nothingelse to occupy and interest her mind and heart. Besides, she really didappreciate and admire the wonderfully endowed peasant boy as much as shepossibly could in the case of one so immeasurably far beneath her inrank. And she really did take more pride and delight in the society ofIshmael than in that of any other human being she had ever met. Andyet, had it been possible that Ishmael should have been acknowledged byhis father and invested with the name, arms, and estate of Brudenell, Claudia Merlin, in her present mood of mind, would have died and seenhim die, before she would have given her hand to one upon whose birth asingle shade of reproach was even suspected to rest. 

Meanwhile Ishmael reveled in what would have been a fool's paradise tomost young men in similar circumstances, --but which really was not suchto him, dreaming those dreams of youth, the realization of which wouldhave been impossible to nine hundred and ninety-nine in a thousandsituated as he was, but which intellect and will made quite probable forhim. With his master mind and heart he read Claudia Merlin thoroughly, and understood her better than she understood herself. In his secretsoul he knew that every inch of progress made in her favor was apermanent conquest never to be yielded up. And loving her as loyally asever knight loved lady, he let her deceive herself by thinking she wasamusing herself at his expense, for he was certain of ultimate victory. 

Other thoughts also occupied Ishmael. The first of September, the timefor opening the Rushy Shore school, had come, and the youth was stillunable to walk. Under these circumstances, he wrote a note to the agent, Brown, and told him that it would be wrong to leave the school shut upwhile the children of the neighborhood remained untaught, and requestedhim to seek another teacher. 

It cost the youth some self-sacrifice to give up this last chance ofemployment; but we already know that Ishmael never hesitated a momentbetween duty and self-interest. 

September passed. Those who have watched surgical cases in militaryhospitals know how long it takes a crushed and broken human body torecover the use of its members. It was late in October before Ishmael'sright arm was strong enough to support the crutch that was needed torelieve the pressure upon his right leg when he attempted to walk. 

It was about this time that Judge Merlin was heard often to complain ofthe great accumulation of correspondence upon his hands. 

Ishmael, ever ready to be useful, modestly tendered his services toassist. 

After a little hesitation, the judge thanked the youth and accepted hisoffer. And the next day Ishmael was installed in a comfortable leatherchair in the library, with his crutch beside him and a writing tablecovered with letters to be read and answered before him. These letterswere all open, and each had a word or a line penciled upon it indicatingthe character of the answer that was to be given. Upon some was simplywritten the word "No"; upon others, "Yes"; upon others again, "Call onme when I come to town"; and so forth. All this, of course, Ishmael hadto put into courteous language, using his own judgment after reading theletters. 

Of course it was the least important part of his correspondence thatJudge Merlin put into his young assistant's hands; but, notwithstandingthat, the trust was a very responsible one. Even Ishmael doubted whetherhe could discharge such unfamiliar duties with satisfaction to hisemployer. 

He worked diligently all that day, however, and completed the task thathad been laid out for him before the bell rung for the late dinner. Thenhe arose and respectfully called the judge's attention to the finishedwork, and bowed and left the room. 

With something like curiosity and doubt the judge went up to the tableand opened and read three or four of the letters written for him by hisyoung amanuensis. And as he read, surprise and pleasure lighted up hiscountenance. 

"The boy is a born diplomatist! I should not wonder if the world shouldhear of him some day, after all!" he said, as he read letter afterletter that had been left unsealed for his optional perusal. In theseletters he found his own hard "No's" expressed with a courtesy thatsoftened them even to the most bitterly disappointed; his arrogant"Yes's, " with a delicacy that could not wound the self-love of the mostsensitive petitioner; and his intermediate, doubtful answers renderedwith a clearness of which by their very nature they seemed incapable. 

"The boy is a born diplomatist, " repeated the judge in an accession ofastonishment. 

But he was wrong in his judgment of Ishmael. If the youth's style ofwriting was gracious, courteous, delicate, it was because his inmostnature was pure, refined, and benignant. If his letters denying favorssoothed rather than offended the applicant, and of those granting favorsflattered rather than humiliated the petitioner, it was because of thatangelic attribute of Ishmael's soul that made it so painful to him togive pain, so delightful to impart delight. There was no thought ofdiplomatic dealing in all Ishmael's truthful soul. 

The judge was excessively pleased with his young assistant. Judge Merlinwas an excellent lawyer, but no orator, and never had been, nor could beone. He had not himself the gift of eloquence either in speaking orwriting; and, therefore, perhaps he was the more astonished and pleasedto find it in the possession of his letter-writer. He was pleased tohave his correspondence well written, for it reflected credit uponhimself. 

Under the influence of his surprise and pleasure he took up his handfull of letters and went directly to Ishmael's room. He found the youthseated in his arm-chair engaged in reading. 

"What have you there?" inquired Judge Merlin. 

Ishmael smiled and turned the title-page to his questioner. 

"Humph! 'Coke upon Lyttleton. ' Lay it down, Ishmael, and attend to me, "said the judge, drawing a chair and seating himself beside the youth. 

Ishmael immediately closed the book and gave the most respectfulattention. 

"I am very much pleased with the manner in which you have accomplishedyour task, Ishmael. You have done your work remarkably well! So wellthat I should like to give you longer employment, " he said. 

Ishmael's heart leaped in his bosom. 

"Thank you, sir; I am very glad you are satisfied with me, " he replied. 

"Let us see now, this is the fifteenth of October; I shall remain hereuntil the first of December, when we go to town; a matter of six weeks;and I shall be glad, Ishmael, during the interval of my stay here, toretain you as my assistant. What say you?"

"Indeed, sir, I shall feel honored and happy in serving you. "

"I will give you what I consider a fair compensation for so young abeginner. By the way, how old are you?"

"I shall be nineteen in December. "

"Very well; I will give you twenty dollars a month and your board. "

"Judge Merlin, " said Ishmael, as his pale face flushed crimson, "I shallfeel honored and happy in serving you; but from you I cannot consent toreceive any compensation. "

The judge stared at the speaker with astonishment that took all power ofreply away; but Ishmael continued:

"Consider, sir, the heavy obligations under which I already rest towardsyou, and permit me to do what I can to lighten the load. "

"What do you mean? What the deuce are you talking about?" at last askedthe judge. 

"Sir, I have been an inmate of your house for nearly three months, nursed, tended, and cared for as if I had been a son of the family. Whatcan I render you for all these benefits? Sir, my gratitude and servicesare due to you, are your own. Pray, therefore, do not mentioncompensation to me again, " replied the youth. 

"Young man, you surprise me beyond measure. Your gratitude and servicesdue to me? For what, pray? For taking care of you when you weredangerously injured in my service? Did you not receive all your injuriesin saving my daughter from a violent death? After that, who should havetaken care of you but me? 'Taken care of you?' I should take care of allyour future! I should give you a fortune, or a profession, or some othersubstantial compensation for your great service, to clear accountsbetween us!" exclaimed the judge. 

Ishmael bowed his head. Oh, bitterest of all bitter mortifications! Tohear her father speak to him of reward for saving Claudia's life! Tothink how everyone was so far from knowing that in saving Claudia he hadsaved himself! He had a right to risk his life for Claudia, and no one, not even her father, had a right to insult him by speaking of reward!Claudia was his own; Ishmael knew it, though no one on earth, not eventhe heiress herself, suspected it. 

The judge watched the youth as he sat with his fine young forehead bowedthoughtfully upon his hand; and Judge Merlin understood Ishmael'sreluctance to receive pay; but did not understand the cause of it. 

"Come, my boy, " he said; "you are young and inexperienced. You cannotknow much of life. I am an old man of the world, capable of advisingyou. You should follow my advice. "

"Indeed, I will gratefully do so, sir, " said Ishmael, raising his head, glad, amid all his humiliation, to be advised by Claudia's father. 

"Then, my boy, you must reflect that it would be very improper for me toavail myself of your really valuable assistance without giving you areasonable compensation; and that, in short, I could not do it, " saidthe judge firmly. 

"Do you regard the question in that light, sir?" inquired Ishmaeldoubtingly. 

"Most assuredly. It is the only true light in which to regard it. "

"Then I have no option but to accept your own terms, sir. I will serveyou gladly and gratefully, to the best of my ability, " concluded theyouth. 

And the affair was settled to their mutual satisfaction. 

CHAPTER XLVI. 

NEW LIFE. 

 Oh, mighty perseverance! Oh, courage, stern and stout! That wills and works a clearance Of every troubling doubt, That cannot brook denial And scarce allows delay, But wins from every trial More strength for every day!

 --_M. F. Tupper_. 

When the judge met his daughter at dinner that evening, he informed herof the new arrangement affected with Ishmael Worth. 

Miss Merlin listened in some surprise, and then asked:

"Was it well done, papa?"

"What, Claudia?"

"The making of that engagement with Ishmael. "

"I think so, my dear, as far as I am interested, at least, and I shallendeavor to make the arrangement profitable also to the youth. "

"And he is to remain with us until we go to town?"

"Yes, my dear; but you seem to demur, Claudia. Now what is the matter?What possible objection can there be to Ishmael Worth remaining here asmy assistant until we go to town?"

"Papa, it will be accustoming him to a society and style that will makeit very hard for him to return to the company of the ignorant men andwomen who have hitherto been his associates, " said Claudia. 

"But why should he return to them? Young Worth is very talented and welleducated. He works to enable him to study a profession. There is noreason on earth why he should not succeed. He looks like a gentleman, talks like a gentleman, and behaves like a gentleman! And there isnothing to prevent his becoming a gentleman. "

"Oh, yes, there is, papa! Yes, there is!" exclaimed Claudia, withemotion. 

"To what do you allude, my dear?"

"To his--low birth, papa!" exclaimed Claudia, with a gasp. 

"His low birth? Claudia! do we live in a republic or not? If we do, whatis the use of our free institutions, if a deserving young man is to bedespised on account of his birth? Claudia, in the circle of myacquaintance there are at least half-a-dozen prosperous men who were thesons of poor but respectable parents. "

"Yes! poor, but--respectable!" ejaculated Claudia, with exceedingbitterness. 

"My daughter, what do you mean by that? Surely young Worth's family arehonest people?" inquired the judge. 

"Ishmael's parents were not respectable! his mother was never married! Iheard this years ago, but did not believe it. I heard it confirmedto-day!" cried Claudia, with a gasp and a sob, as she sank back in herchair and covered her burning face with her hands. 

The judge laid down his knife and fork and gazed at his daughter, muttering:

"That is unfortunate; very unfortunate! No, he will never get over thatreproach; so far, you are right, Claudia. "

"Oh, no, I am wrong; basely wrong! He saved my life, and I speak thesewords of him, as if he were answerable for the sins of others--as if hisgreat misfortune was his crime! Poor Ishmael! Poor, noble-hearted boy!He saved my life, papa, at the price of deadly peril and terriblesuffering to himself. Oh, reward him well, lavishly, munificently; butsend him away! I cannot bear his presence here!" exclaimed the excitedgirl. 

"Claudia, it is natural that you should be shocked at hearing such apiece of news; which, true or false, certainly ought never to have beenbrought to your ear. But, my dear, there is no need of all thisexcitement on your part. I do not understand its excess. The youth is agood, intelligent, well-mannered boy, when all is said. Of course he cannever attain the position of a gentleman; but that is no reason why heshould be utterly cast out. And as to sending him away, now, there areseveral reasons why I cannot do that: In the first place, he is not ableto go; in the second, I need his pen; in the third, I have made anengagement with him which I will not break. As for the rest, Claudia, you need not be troubled with a sight of him; I will take care that hedoes not intrude upon your presence, " said the judge, as he arose fromthe table. 

Claudia threw on her garden hat and hurried out of the house to buryherself in the shadows of the forest. That day she had learned, from thegossip of old Mrs. Jones, who was on a visit to a married daughter inthe neighborhood, Ishmael's real history, or what was supposed to be hisreal history. She had struggled for composure all day long, and onlyutterly lost her self-possession in the conversation with her father atthe dinner-table. Now she sought the depths of the forest, because shecould not bear the sight of a human face. Her whole nature was dividedand at war with itself. All that was best in Claudia Merlin's heart andmind was powerfully and constantly attracted by the moral andintellectual excellence of Ishmael Worth; but all the prejudices of herrank and education were revolted by the circumstances attending hisbirth, and were up in arms against the emotions of her better nature. 

In what consists the power of the quiet forest shades to calm fiercehuman passions? I know not; but it is certain that, after walking two orthree hours through their depths communing with her own spirit, ClaudiaMerlin returned home in a better mood to meet her father at thetea-table. 

"Papa, " she said, as she seated herself at the head of the table andmade tea, "you need not trouble yourself to keep Ishmael out of my way. Dreadful as this discovery is, he is not to blame, poor boy. And I thinkwe had better not make any change in our treatment of him; he would bewounded by our coldness; he would not understand it and we could notexplain. Besides, the six weeks will soon be over, and then we shall bedone with him. "

"I am glad to hear you say so, my dear; especially as I had invitedIshmael to join us at tea this evening, and forgotten to tell you of ituntil this moment. But, Claudia, my little girl, " said the judge, scrutinizing her pale cheeks and heavy eyes, "you must not take all thesin and sorrows of the world as much to heart as you have this case;for, if you do, you will be an old woman before you are twenty years ofage. "

Claudia smiled faintly; but before she could reply the regularmonotonous thump of a crutch, was heard approaching the door, and inanother moment Ishmael stood within the room. 

There was nothing in that fine intellectual countenance, with its fair, broad, calm forehead, thoughtful eyes, and finely curved lips, tosuggest the idea of an ignoble birth. With a graceful bow and sweetsmile and a perfectly well-bred manner, Ishmael approached and took hisseat at the table. The judge took his crutch and set it up in thecorner, saying:

"I see you have discarded one crutch, my boy! You will be able todiscard the other in a day or so. "

"Yes, sir; I only retain this one in compliance with the injunctions ofthe doctor, who declares that I must not bear full weight upon theinjured limb yet, " replied Ishmael courteously. 

No one could have supposed from the manner of the youth that he had notbeen accustomed to mingle on equal terms in the best society. 

Claudia poured out the tea. She was not deficient in courtesy; but shecould not bring herself, as yet, to speak to Ishmael with her usual easeand freedom. When tea was over she excused herself and retired. Claudiawas not accustomed to seek Divine help. And so, in one of the greateststraits of her moral experience, without one word of prayer, she threwherself upon her bed, where she lay tossing about, as yet too agitatedwith mental conflict to sleep. 

Ishmael improved in health and grew in favor with his employer. Hewalked daily from his chamber to the library without the aid of acrutch. He took his meals with the family. And oh! ruinous extravagance, he wore his Sunday suit every day! There was no help for it, since hemust sit in the judge's library and eat at the judge's table. 

Claudia treated him well; with the inconsistency of girlish nature, since she had felt such a revulsion towards him, and despite of itresolved to be kind to him, she went to the extreme and treated himbetter than ever. 

The judge was unchanged in his manner to the struggling youth. 

And so the time went on and the month of November arrived. 

Ishmael kept the Rushy Shore schoolhouse in mind. Up to this time noschoolmaster had been found to undertake its care. And Ishmael resolvedif it should remain vacant until his engagement with the judge should befinished, he would then take it himself. 

All this while Ishmael, true to the smallest duty, had not neglectedReuben Gray's account-books. They had been brought to him by Gray everyweek to be posted up. But it was the second week in November beforeIshmael was able to walk to Woodside to see Hannah's babes, now finechildren of nearly three months of age. Of course Ishmael, in thegeniality of his nature, was delighted with them; and equally, ofcourse, he delighted their mother with their praises. 

The last two weeks in November were devoted by the judge and his familyto preparations for their departure. 

As the time slipped and the interval of their stay grew shorter andshorter, Ishmael began to count the days, treasuring each precious daythat still gave him to the sight of Claudia. 

On the last day but one before their departure, all letters having beenfinished, the judge was in his library, selecting books to be packed andsent off to his city residence. Ishmael was assisting him. When theirtask was completed, the judge turned to the youth and said:

"Now, Ishmael, I will leave the keys of the library in your possession. You will come occasionally to see that all is right here; and you willair and dust the books, and in wet weather have a fire kindled to keepthem from molding, for in the depths of this forest it is very damp inwinter. In recompense for your care of the library, Ishmael, I will giveyou the use of such law books as you may need to continue your studies. Here is a list of works that I recommend you to read in the order inwhich they are written down, " said the judge, handing the youth a foldedpaper. 

"I thank you, sir; I thank you very much, " answered Ishmael fervently. 

"You can either read them here, or take them home with you, just as youplease, " continued the judge. 

"You are very kind, and I am very grateful, sir. "

"It seems to me I am only just, and scarcely that, Ishmael! The countycourt opens at Shelton on the first of December. I would stronglyrecommend you to attend its sessions and watch its trials; it will be avery good school for you, and a great help to the progress of yourstudies. "

"Thank you, sir, I will follow your advice. "

"And after a while I hope you will be able to go for a term or two toone of the good Northern law schools. "

"I hope so, sir; and for that purpose I must work hard. "

"And if you should ever succeed in getting admitted to the bar, Ishmael, I should advise you to go to the Far West. It may seempremature to give you this counsel now, but I give it, while I think ofit, because after parting with you I may never see you again. "

"Again I thank you, Judge Merlin; but if ever that day of success shouldcome for me, it will find me in my native State. I have an especialreason for fixing my home here; and here I must succeed or fail!" saidIshmael earnestly, as he thought of his mother's early death andunhonored grave, and his vow to rescue her memory from reproach. 

"It appears to me that your native place would be the last spot on earthwhere you, with your talents, would consent to remain, " said the judgesignificantly. 

"I have a reason--a sacred reason, sir, " replied Ishmael earnestly, yetwith some reserve in his manner. 

"A reason 'with which the stranger intermeddleth not, ' I suppose?"

Ishmael bowed gravely, in assent. 

"Very well, my young friend; I will not inquire what it may be, " saidJudge Merlin, who was busying himself at his writing bureau, among somepapers, from which he selected one, which he brought forward to theyouth, saying:

"Here, Ishmael--here is a memorandum of your services, which I havetaken care to keep; for I knew full well that if I waited for you topresent me a bill, I might wait forever. You will learn to do suchthings, however, in time. Now I find by my memorandum that I owe youabout sixty dollars. Here is the money. There, now, do not draw back andflush all over your face at the idea of taking money you have wellearned. Oh, but you will get over that in time, and when you are alawyer you will hold out your hand for a thumping fee before you give anopinion on a case!" laughed the judge, as he forced a roll of banknotesinto Ishmael's hands, and left the library. 

The remainder of the day was spent in sending off wagon loads of boxesto the landing on the river side, where they were taken off by arowboat, and conveyed on board the "Canvas Back, " that lay at anchoropposite Tanglewood, waiting for the freight, to transport it to thecity. 

On the following Saturday morning the judge and his daughter leftTanglewood for Washington. They traveled in the private carriage, drivenby the heroic Sam, and attended by a mounted groom. The parting, whichshook Ishmael's whole nature like a storm, nearly rending soul and bodyasunder, seemed to have but little effect upon Miss Merlin. She wentthrough it with great decorum, shaking hands with Ishmael, wishing himsuccess, and hoping to see him, some fine day, on the bench!

This Claudia said laughing, as with good-humored raillery. 

But Ishmael bowed very gravely, and though his heart was breaking, answered calmly:

"I hope so too, Miss Merlin. We shall see. "

"Au revoir!" said Claudia, her eyes sparkling with mirth. 

"Until we meet!" answered Ishmael solemnly, as he closed the carriagedoor and gave the coachman the word to drive off. 

As the carriage rolled away the beautiful girl, who was its solepassenger, and whose eyes had been sparkling with mirth but an instantbefore, now threw her hands up to her face, fell back in her seat, andburst into a tempest of sobs and tears. 

Ignorant of what was going on within its curtained inclosure, Ishmaelremained standing and gazing after the vanishing carriage, which wasquickly lost to view in the deep shadows of the forest road, until JudgeMerlin, who at the last moment had decided to travel on horseback, rodeup to take leave of him and follow the carriage. 

"Well, good-by, my young friend! Take care of yourself, " were the lastadieus of the judge, as he shook hands with Ishmael, and rode away. 

"I wish you a pleasant journey, sir, " were the final words of Ishmael, sent after the galloping horse. 

Then the young man, with desolation in his heart, turned into the houseto set the library in order, lock it up, and remove his own few personaleffects from the premises. 

Reuben Gray, who had come up to assist the judge, receive his finalorders, and see him off, waited outside with his light wagon to takeIshmael and his luggage home to Woodside. Reuben helped Ishmael totransfer his books, clothing, etc. , to the little wagon. And thenIshmael, after having taken leave of Aunt Katie, and left a smallpresent in her hand, jumped into his seat and was driven off by Reuben. 

The arrangement at Tanglewood had occupied nearly the whole of the shortwinter forenoon, so that it was twelve o'clock meridian when theyreached Woodside. 

They found a very comfortable sitting room awaiting them. Reuben in thepride of paternity had refurnished it. There was a warm red carpet onthe floor; warm red curtains at the windows; a bright fire burning inthe fireplace; a neat dinner-table set out, and, best of all, Hannahseated in a low rocking chair, with one rosy babe on her lap and anotherin the soft, white cradle bed by her side. Hannah laid the baby she heldbeside its brother in the cradle, and arose and went to Ishmael, warmlywelcoming him home again, saying:

"Oh, my dear boy, I am so glad you have come back! I will make youhappier with us, lad, than you have ever been before. "

"You have always been very good to me, Aunt Hannah, " said Ishmaelwarmly, returning her embrace. 

"No, I haven't, Ishmael, no, I haven't, my boy; but I will be. Sally, bring in the fish directly. You know very well that Ishmael don't likerock-fish boiled too much, " she said by way of commencement. 

The order was immediately obeyed, and the family sat down to the table. The thrifty overseer's wife had provided a sumptuous dinner in honor ofher nephew's return. The thriving overseer could afford to beextravagant once in a while. Ah! very different were those days ofplenty at Woodside to those days of penury at the Hill hut. And Hannahthought of the difference, as she dispensed the good things from thehead of her well-supplied table. The rock-fish with egg sauce wasfollowed by a boiled ham and roast ducks with sage dressing, and thedinner was finished off with apple pudding and mince pies and new cider. 

Ishmael tried his best to do justice to the luxuries affection hadprovided for him; but after all he could not satisfy the expectation ofHannah, who complained bitterly of his want of appetite. 

After dinner, when the young man had gone upstairs to arrange his booksand clothes in his own room, and had left Hannah and Reuben alone, Hannah again complained of Ishmael's derelictions to the duty of thedinner-table. 

"It's no use talking, Hannah; he can't help it. His heart is so full--sofull, that he aint got room in his insides for no victuals! And that'sjust about the truth on't. 'Twas the same with me when I was young andin love long o' you! And wa'n't you contrairy nyther? Lord, Hannah, whywhen you used to get on your high horse with me, I'd be offen my feedfor weeks and weeks together. My heart would be swelled up to my verythroat, and my stomach wouldn't be nowhar!"

"Reuben, don't be a fool, it's not becoming in the father of a family, "said Mrs. Hannah, proudly glancing at the twins. 

"Law, so it isn't, so it isn't, Hannah, woman. But surely I was onlya-telling of you what ailed Ishmael, as he was off his feed. "

"But what foolishness and craziness and sottishness for Ishmael to be inlove with Miss Merlin!" exclaimed Hannah impatiently. 

"Law, woman, who ever said love was anything else but craziness and therest of it, " laughed Gray. 

"But Miss Merlin thinks no more of Ishmael than she does of the dirtunder her feet, " said Hannah bitterly. 

"Begging your pardon, she thinks a deal more of him than she'd likeanybody to find out, " said honest Reuben, winking. 

"How did you find it out then?" inquired his wife. 

"Law, Hannah, I haven't been fried and froze, by turn, with all sorts offever and ague love fits, all the days of my youth, without knowing ofthe symptoms. And I tell you as how the high and mighty heiress, MissClaudia Merlin, loves the very buttons on our Ishmael's coat better norshe loves the whole world and all the people in it besides. And nowonder! for of all the young men as ever I seed, gentlemen orworkingmen, Ishmael Worth is the handsomest in his looks, and hismanners, and his speech, and all. And I believe, though I am not much ofa judge, as he is the most intelligentest and book-larnedest. I neverseed his equal yet. Why, Hannah, I don't believe as there is e'er aprince a-livin' as has finer manners--I don't!"

"But, Reuben, do you mean what you say? Do you really think Miss ClaudiaMerlin condescends to like Ishmael? I have heard of ladies doing suchstrange things sometimes; but Miss Claudia Merlin!"

"I told you, and I tell you again, as she loves the very buttons offenIshmael's coat better nor she loves all the world besides. But she is asproud as Lucifer, and ready to tear her own heart out of her bosom forpassion and spite, because she can't get Ishmael out of it! She'll nevermarry him, if you mean that; though I know sometimes young ladies willmarry beneath them for love; but Miss Merlin will never do that. Shewould fling herself into burning fire first!"

The conversation could go no farther, for the subject of it was heardcoming down the stairs, and the next moment he opened the door andentered the room. 

He took a seat near Hannah, smiling and saying:

"For this one afternoon I will take a holiday, Aunt Hannah, and enjoythe society of yourself and the babies. "

"So do, Ishmael, " replied the pleased and happy mother. And in the veryeffort to shake off his gloom and please and be pleased, Ishmael foundhis sadness alleviated. 

He was never weary of wondering at Hannah and her children. To beholdhis maiden aunt in the character of a wife had been a standing marvel toIshmael. To contemplate her now as a mother was an ever-growing delightto the genial boy. She had lost all her old-maidish appearance. She wasfleshier, fairer, and softer to look upon. And she wore a prettybobbinet cap and a bright-colored calico wrapper, and she busied herselfwith needlework while turning the cradle with her foot, and humming alittle nursery song. As for Reuben, he arose as Ishmael sat down, stoodcontemplating his domestic bliss for a few minutes, and then took hishat and went out upon his afternoon rounds among the field laborers. Ahappy man was Reuben Gray!

CHAPTER XLVII. 

RUSHY SHORE. 

 He feels, he feels within him That courage self-possessed, -- That force that ye shall win him, The brightest and the best, -- The stalwarth Saxon daring That steadily steps on, Unswerving and unsparing Until the goal be won!

 --_M. F. Tupper_. 

The first thing Ishmael did when he found himself again settled atWoodside, and had got over the anguish of his parting with Claudia andthe excitement of his removal from Tanglewood, was to walk over to RushyShore and inquire of Overseer Brown whether a master had yet been heardof for the little school. 

"No, nor aint a-gwine to be! There aint much temptation to anybody asknows anything about this 'ere school to take it. The chillun as comesto it, --well there, they are just the dullest, headstrongest, forwardestset o' boys and gals as ever was; and their fathers and mothers, take'em all together, are the bad-payingest! The fact is, cansarning thisschool, one may say as the wexation is sartain and the wagesun-sartain, " answered Brown, whom Ishmael found, as usual, saunteringthrough the fields with his pipe in his mouth. 

"Well, then, as I am on my feet again, and no other master can be found, I will take it myself--that is to say, if I can have it, " said Ishmael. 

"Well, I reckon you can. Mr. Middleton, he sent his lawyer down here tosettle up affairs arter he had bought the property, and the lawyer, hetold me, as I had been so long used to the place as I was to keep ona-managing of it for the new master; and as a-letting out of thisschoolhouse was a part of my business, I do s'pose as I can let you haveit, if you like to take it. "

"Yes, I should, and I engage it from the first of January. There are nowbut two weeks remaining until the Christmas holidays. So it is not worthwhile to open the school until these shall be over. But meanwhile, Brown, you can let your friends and neighbors know that the schoolhousewill be ready for the reception of pupils on Monday, the third ofJanuary. "

"Very well, sir; I'll let them all know. "

"And now, Brown, tell me, is Mr. Middleton's family coming in at thefirst of the year?" inquired Ishmael anxiously. 

"Oh, no, sir! the house is a deal too damp. In some places it leaksawful in rainy weather. There be a lot of repairs to be made. So itwon't be ready for the family much afore the spring, if then. "

"I am sorry to hear that. Will you give me Mr. Middleton's address?"

"His--which, sir?"

"Tell me where I can write to him. "

"Oh! he is at Washington, present speaking; Franklin Square, WashingtonCity; that will find him. "

"Thank you. " And shaking hands with the worthy overseer Ishmaeldeparted. 

And the same day he wrote and posted a letter to Mr. Middleton. 

The intervening two weeks between that day and Christmas were spent byIshmael, as usual, in work and study. He made up the whole year'saccounts for Reuben Gray, and put his farm books in perfect order. WhileIshmael was engaged in this latter job, it occurred to him that he couldnot always be at hand to assist Reuben, and that it would be muchbetter for Gray to learn enough of arithmetic and bookkeeping to makehim independent of other people's help in keeping his accounts. 

So when Ishmael brought him his books one evening and told him they wereall in order up to that present day, and Reuben said:

"Thank you, Ishmael! I don't know what I should do without you, my lad!"Ishmael answered him, saying very earnestly:

"Uncle Reuben, all the events of life are proverbially very uncertain;and it may happen that you may be obliged to do without me; in whichcase, would it not be well for you to be prepared for such acontingency?"

"What do you mean, Ishmael?" inquired Gray, in alarm. 

"I mean--had you not better learn to keep your books yourself, in caseyou should lose me?"

"Oh, Ishmael, I do hope you are not going to leave us!" exclaimedReuben, in terror. 

"Not until duty obliges me to do so, and that may not be for years. Itis true that I have taken the Rushy Shore schoolhouse, which I intend toopen on the third of January; but then I shall continue to reside herewith you, and walk backward and forward between this and that. "

"What! every day there and back, and it such a distance!"

"Yes, Uncle Reuben; I can manage to do so, by rising an hour earlierthan usual, " said Ishmael cheerfully. 

"You rise airly enough now, in all conscience! You're up at daybreak. Ifyou get up airlier nor that, and take that long walk twice every day, itwill wear you out and kill you--that is all. "

"It will do me good, Uncle Reuben! It will be just the sort of exercisein the open air that I shall require to antidote the effect of mysedentary work in the schoolroom, " said Ishmael cheerfully. 

"That's you, Ishmael! allers looking on the bright side of everything, and taking hold of all tools by the smooth handle! I hardly think anyhardship in this world as could be put upon you, would be took amiss byyou, Ishmael. "

"I am glad you think so well of me, Uncle Reuben; I must try to retainyour good opinion; it was not of myself I wished to speak, however, butof you. I hope you will learn to keep your own accounts, so as to beindependent of anybody else's assistance. If you would give me a halfan hour's attention every night, I could teach you to do it well in thecourse of a few weeks or months. "

"Law, Ishmael, that would give you more trouble than keeping the booksyourself. "

"I can teach you, and keep the books besides, until you are able to doit yourself. "

"Law, Ishmael, how will you ever find the time to do all that, and keepschool, and read law, and take them long walks besides?"

"Why, Uncle Reuben, I can always find time to do every, duty Iundertake, " replied the persevering boy. 

"One would think your days were forty-eight hours long, Ishmael, for youto get through all the work as you undertake. "

"But how about the lessons, Uncle Reuben?"

"Oh, Ishmael, I'm too old to larn; it aint worth while now; I'm pastfifty, you know. "

"Well, but you are a fine, strong, healthy man, and may live to beeighty or ninety. Now, if I can teach you in two or three months an artwhich will be useful to you every day of your life, for thirty or fortyyears, don't you think that it is quite worth while to learn it?"

"Well, Ishmael, you have got a way of putting things as makes peoplethink they're reasonable, whether or no, and convinces of folks agin'their will. I think, after all, belike you oughter be a lawyer, if so beyou'd turn a judge and jury round your finger as easy as you turn otherpeople. I'll e'en larn of you, Ishmael, though it do look rum like foran old man like me to go to school to a boy like you. "

"That is right, Uncle Reuben. You'll be a good accountant yet before thewinter is over, " laughed Ishmael. 

Christmas came; but it would take too long to tell of the rusticmerry-makings in a neighborhood noted for the festive style in which itcelebrates its Christmas holidays. There were dinner, supper, anddancing parties in all the cottages during the entire week. Reuben Graygave a rustic ball on New Year's evening. And all the country beaus andbelles of his rank in society came and danced at it. And Ishmael, in thegeniality of his nature, made himself so agreeable to everybody that heunconsciously turned the heads of half the girls in the room, whounanimously pronounced him "quite the gentleman. "

This was the last as well as the gayest party of the holidays. It brokeup at twelve midnight, because the next day was Sunday. 

On Monday Ishmael arose early and walked over to Rushy Shore, opened hisschoolhouse, lighted a fire in it, and sat down at his teacher's desk toawait the arrival of his pupils. 

About eight or nine o'clock they began to come, by ones, twos, andthrees; some attended by their parents and some alone. Rough-lookingcustomers they were, to be sure; shock-headed, sun-burned, andfreckle-faced girls and boys of the humblest class of "poor whites, " asthey were called in the slave States. 

Ishmael received them, each and all, with that genial kindness whichalways won the hearts of all who knew him. 

In arranging his school and classifying his pupils, Ishmael found thelatter as ignorant, stubborn, and froward as they had been representedto him. 

Sam White would not go into the same class with Pete Johnson becausePete's father got drunk and was "had up" for fighting. Susan Jones wouldnot sit beside Ann Bates because Ann's mother "hired out. " Jem Ellis, who was a big boy that did not know his ABC's, insisted on being put atthe head of the highest class because he was the tallest pupil in theschool. And Sarah Brown refused to go into any class at all, because herfather was the overseer of the estate, and she felt herself above themall!

These objections and claims were all put forth with loud voices and rudegestures. 

But Ishmael, though shocked, was not discouraged. "In patience hepossessed his soul" that day. And after a while he succeeded in calmingall these turbulent spirits and reducing his little kingdom to order. 

It was a very harassing day, however, and after he had dismissed hisschool and walked home, and given Reuben Gray his lesson, and posted theaccount-book, and read a portion of his "Coke, " he retired to bed, thoroughly wearied in mind and body and keenly appreciative of theprivilege of rest. From this day forth Ishmael worked harder andsuffered more privations than, perhaps, he had ever done at any formerperiod of his life. 

He rose every morning at four o'clock, before any of the family werestirring; dressed himself neatly, read a portion of the Holy Scripturesby candle-light, said his prayers, ate a cold breakfast that had beenlaid out for him the night before, and set off to walk five miles to hisschoolhouse. 

He usually reached it at half-past six; opened and aired the room, andmade the fire; and then sat down to read law until the arrival of thehour for the commencement of the studies. 

He taught diligently until twelve o'clock; then he dismissed the pupilsfor two hours to go home and get their dinners; he ate the cold luncheonof bread and cheese or meat that he had brought with him; and set off towalk briskly the distance of a mile and a half to Shelton, where thecourt was in session, and where he spent an hour watching theirproceedings and taking notes. He got back to his school at two o'clock;called in his pupils for the afternoon session, and taught diligentlyuntil six o'clock in the afternoon, when he dismissed them for the day, shut up the schoolhouse, and set off to walk home. 

He usually reached Woodside at about seven o'clock, where he found themwaiting tea for him. As this was the only meal Ishmael could take home, Hannah always took care that it should be a comfortable and abundantone. After tea he would give Reuben his lesson in bookkeeping, post upthe day's accounts, and then retire to his room to study for an hour ortwo before going to bed. This was the history of five days out of everyweek of Ishmael's life. 

On Saturdays, according to custom, the school had a holiday; and Ishmaelspent the morning in working in the garden. As it was now the depth ofwinter, there was but little to do, and half a day's work in the weeksufficed to keep all in order. Saturday afternoons Ishmael went over toopen and air the library at Tanglewood, and to return the books he hadread and bring back new ones. Saturday evenings he spent very much as hedid the preceding ones of the week--in giving Reuben his lesson, inposting up the week's accounts, and in reading law until bed time. 

On Sundays Ishmael rested from worldly labors and went to church torefresh his soul. But for this Sabbath's rest, made obligatory upon himby the Christian law, Ishmael must have broken down under his severelabors. As it was, however, the benign Christian law of the Sabbath'sholy rest proved his salvation. 

CHAPTER XLVIII. 

ONWARD. 

 The boldness and the quiet, That calmly go ahead, In spite of wrath and riot, In spite of quick and dead-- Warm energy to spur him, Keen enterprise to guide. And conscience to upstir him, And duty by his side, And hope forever singing Assurance of success, And rapid action springing At once to nothing less!

 --_M. F. Tupper_. 

In this persevering labor Ishmael cheerfully passed the winter months. 

He had not heard one word of Claudia, or of her father, except suchscant news as reached him through the judge's occasional letters to theoverseer. 

He had received an encouraging note from Mr. Middleton in answer to theletter he had written to that gentleman. About the first of AprilIshmael's first quarterly school bills began to be due. 

Tuition fees were not high in that poor neighborhood, and his pay foreach pupil averaged about two dollars a quarter. His school numberedthirty pupils, about one-third of whom never paid, consequently at theend of the first three months his net receipts were just forty-twodollars. Not very encouraging this, yet Ishmael was pleased and happy, especially as he felt that he was really doing the little savagesintrusted to his care a great deal of good. 

Half of this money Ishmael would have forced upon Hannah and Reuben; butHannah flew into a passion and demanded if her nephew took her for amoney-grub; and Reuben quietly assured the young man that his servicesoverpaid his board, which was quite true. 

One evening about the middle of April Ishmael sat at his school deskmending pens, setting copies, and keeping an eye on a refractory boy whohad been detained after school hours to learn a lesson he had failed toknow in his class. 

Ishmael had just finished setting his last copy and was engaged inpiling the copy-books neatly, one on top of another, when there came asoft tap at the door. 

"Come in, " said Ishmael, fully expecting to see some of the refractoryboy's friends come to inquire after him. 

The door opened and a very young lady, in a gray silk dress, straw hat, and blue ribbons entered the schoolroom. 

Ishmael looked up, gave one glance at the fair, sweet face, serious blueeyes, and soft light ringlets, and dropped his copy-books, came down fromhis seat and hurried to meet the visitor, exclaiming:

"Bee! Oh, dear, dear Bee, I am so glad to see you!"

"So am I you, Ishmael, " said Beatrice Middleton, frankly giving her handto be shaken. 

"Bee! oh, I beg pardon! Miss Middleton I mean! it is such a happiness tome to see you again!"

"So it is to me to see you, Ishmael, " frankly answered Beatrice. 

"You will sit down and rest, Bee?--Miss Middleton!" exclaimed Ishmael, running to bring his own school chair for her accommodation. 

"I will sit down, Bee. None of my old schoolmates call me anything else, Ishmael, and I should hardly know my little self by any other name, "said Bee, taking the offered seat. 

"I thank you very much for letting me call you so! It really wentagainst all old feelings of friendship to call you otherwise. "

"Why certainly it did. "

"I hope your father and all the family are well?"

"All except mamma, who, you know, is very delicate. "

"Yes, I know. They are all down here, of course?"

"No; no one but myself and one man- and maid-servant. "

"Indeed!"

"Yes; I came down to see to the last preparations, so as to haveeverything in order and comfortable for mamma when she comes. "

"Still 'mamma's right-hand woman, ' Bee!"

"Well, yes; I must be so. You know her health is very uncertain, andthere are so many children--two more since you left us, Ishmael! Andthey are all such a responsibility! And as mamma is so delicate and I amthe eldest daughter, I must take much of the care of them all uponmyself, " replied the girl-woman very gravely. 

"Yes, I suppose so; and yet--" Ishmael hesitated and Bee took up thediscourse:

--"I know what you are thinking of, Ishmael! That some other than myselfought to have been found to come down to this uninhabited house to makethe final preparations for the reception of the family; but really now, Ishmael, when you come to think of it, who could have been found socompetent as myself for this duty? To be sure, you know, we sent anupholsterer down with the new furniture, and with particularinstructions as to its arrangement: every carpet, set of curtains, andsuit of furniture marked with the name of the room for which it wasdestined. But then, you know, there are a hundred other things to bedone, after the upholsterer has quitted the house, that none but a womanand a member of the family would know how to do--cut glass and china andcutlery to be taken out of their cases and arranged in sideboards andcupboards; and bed and table linen to be unpacked and put into drawersand closets; and the children's beds to be aired and made up; andmamma's own chamber and nursery made ready for her; and, last of all, for the evening that they are expected to arrive, a nice delicate suppergot. Now, who was there to attend to all this but me?" questionedBeatrice, looking gravely into Ishmael's face. And as she waited for ananswer, Ishmael replied:

"Why--failing your mamma, your papa might have done it, without anyderogation from his manly dignity. When General Washington was inPhiladelphia, during his first Presidential term, with all the cares ofthe young nation upon his shoulders, he superintended the fitting up ofhis town house for the reception of Mrs. Washington; descending even tothe details of hanging curtains and setting up mangles!"

Beatrice laughed, as she said:

"Law, Ishmael! haven't you got over your habit of quoting your heroesyet? And have you really faith enough to hope that modern men will comeup to their standard? Of course, George Washington was equal to everyhuman duty from the conquering of Cornwallis to--the crimping of acap-border, if necessary! for he was a miracle! But my papa, God blesshim, though wise and good, is but a man, and would no more know how toperform a woman's duties than I should how to do a man's! What should heknow of china-closets and linen chests? Why, Ishmael, he doesn't knowfi'penny bit cotton from five shilling linen, and would have been asapt as not to have ordered the servants' sheets on the children's bedsand vice versa; and for mamma's supper he would have been as likely tohave fried pork as the broiled spring chickens that I shall provide! No, Ishmael; gentlemen may be great masters in Latin and Greek; but they aredunces in housekeeping matters. "

"As far as your experience goes, Bee. "

"Of course, as far as my experience goes. "

"When did you reach Rushy Shore, Bee?"

"Last night about seven o'clock. Matty came with me in the carriage, andJason drove us. We spent all day in unpacking and arranging the thingsthat had been sent down on the 'Canvas Back' a week or two ago. And thisafternoon I thought I would walk over here and see what sort of a schoolyou had. Papa read your letter to us, and we were all interested in yoursuccess here. "

"Thank you, dear Bee; I know that you are all among my very bestfriends; and some of these days, Bee, I hope, I trust, to do credit toyour friendship. "

"That you will, Ishmael! What do you think my papa told my uncleMerlin?--that 'that young man (meaning you) was destined to make hismark on this century. '"

A deep blush of mingled pleasure, bashfulness, and aspiration mantledIshmael's delicate face. He bowed with sweet, grave courtesy, andchanged the subject of conversation by saying:

"I hope Judge Merlin and his daughter are quite well?"

"Quite. They are still at Annapolis. Papa visited them there for a fewdays last week. The judge is stopping at the Stars and Stripes hotel, and Claudia is a parlor boarder at a celebrated French school in thevicinity. Claudia will not 'come out' until next winter, when her fathergoes to Washington. For next December Claudia will be eighteen years ofage, and will enter upon her mother's large property, according to theterms of the marriage settlement and the mother's will. I suppose shewill be the richest heiress in America, for the property is estimated atmore than a million! Ah! it is fine to be Claudia Merlin--is it not, Ishmael?"

"Very, " answered the young man, scarcely conscious amid the whirl of hisemotions what he was saying. 

"And what a sensation her entrée into society will make! I should liketo be in Washington next winter when she comes out. Ah, but afterall--what a target for fortune-hunters she will be, to be sure!" sighedBee. 

"She is beautiful and accomplished, and altogether lovely enough to besought for herself alone!" exclaimed Ishmael, in the low and falteringtones of deep feeling. 

"Ah, yes, if she were poor; but who on earth could see whether theheiress of a million were pretty or plain, good or bad, witty orstupid?"

"So young and so cynical!" said Ishmael sadly. 

"Ah, Ishmael, whoever reads and observes must feel and reflect; andwhoever feels and reflects must soon lose the simple faith of childhood. We shall see!" said Bee, rising and drawing her gray silk scarf aroundher shoulders. 

"You are not going?"

"Yes; I have much yet to do. "

"Can I not help you?"

"Oh, no; there is nothing that I have to do that a classical andmathematical scholar and nursling lawyer could understand. "

"Then, at least, allow me to see you safely home. The nursling-lawyercan do that, I suppose? If you will be pleased to sit down until I hearthis young hopeful say his lesson, I will close up the schoolroom and beat your service. "

"Thank you very much; but I have to call at Brown's, the overseer's, andI would much rather you would not trouble yourself, Ishmael. Good-by. When we all get settled up at the house, which must be by next Saturdaynight, at farthest, you must come often to see us. It was to say thisthat I came here. "

"Thank you, dearest Bee! I shall esteem it a great privilege to come. "

"Prove it, " laughed Bee, as she waved adieu, and tripped out of theschoolroom. 

Ishmael called up his pupil for recitation. 

The little savage could not say his lesson, and began to weep and rubhis eyes with the sleeve of his jacket. 

"You mought let me off this once, anyways, " he sobbed. 

"But why should I?" inquired Ishmael. 

"A-cause of the pretty lady a-coming. "

Ishmael laughed, and for a moment entertained the thought of admittingthis plea and letting the pleader go. But Ishmael was really tooconscientious to suffer himself to be lured aside from the strict lineof duty by any passing fancy or caprice; so he answered:

"Your plea is an ingenious one, Eddy; and since you have wit enough tomake it, you must have sense enough to learn your lesson. Come, now, letus sit down and put our heads together, and try again, and see what wecan do. "

And with the kindness for which he was ever noted, the young master satdown beside his stupid pupil and patiently went over and over the lessonwith him, until he had succeeded in getting it into Eddy's thick head. 

"There, now! now you know the difference between a common noun and aproper one! are you not glad?" asked Ishmael, smiling. 

"Yes; but they'll all be done supper, and the hominy'll be cold!" saidthe boy sulkily. 

"Oh, no, it will not. I know all about the boiling of hominy. They'llkeep the pot hanging over the fire until bed-time, so you can have yourshot as soon as you get home. Off with you, now!" laughed Ishmael. 

His hopeful pupil lost no time in obeying the order, but set off on arun. 

Ishmael arranged his books, closed up his schoolroom, and started towalk home. 

There he delighted Hannah with the news that her former friend andpatron, Mrs. Middleton, was soon expected at Rushy Shore. And heinterested both Reuben and Hannah with the description of beautifulBee's visit to the school. 

"I wonder why he couldn't have fallen in love with her?" thought Hannah. 

CHAPTER XLIX. 

STILL ONWARD. 

 His, all the mighty movements That urge the hero's breast, The longings and the lovings, The spirit's glad unrest, That scorns excuse to tender, Or fortune's favor ask, That never will surrender Whatever be the task!

 --_M. F. Tupper_. 

Beatrice did not come again to the schoolroom to see Ishmael. The memoryof old school-day friendship, as well as the prompting of hospitalityand benevolence, had brought her there on her first visit. She had notthought of the lapse of time, or the change that two years must havemade in him as well as in herself, and so, where she expected to find amere youth, she found a young man; and maiden delicacy restrained herfrom repeating her visit. 

On Thursday\morning, however, as Ishmael was opening his schoolroom heheard a brisk step approaching, and Mr. Middleton was at his side. Theirhands flew into each other and shook mutually before either spoke. Then, with beaming eyes and hearty tones, both exclaimed at once:

"I am so glad to see you!"

"Of course you arrived last night! I hope you had a pleasant journey, and that Mrs. Middleton has recovered her fatigue, " said Ishmael, placing a chair for his visitor. 

"A very pleasant journey. The day was delightfully cool, and even mywife did not suffer from fatigue. She is quite well this morning, andquite delighted with her new home. But, see here, Ishmael, how you havechanged! You are taller than I am! You must be near six feet inheight--are you not?"

"I suppose so, " smiled Ishmael. 

"And your hair is so much darker. Altogether, you are so much improved. "

"There was room for it. "

"There always is, my boy. Well, I did not come here to pay compliments, my young friend. I came to tell you that, thanks to my little Bee'sactivity, we are all comfortably settled at home now; and we should behappy if you would come on Friday evening and spend with us Saturday andSunday, your weekly holidays. "

"I thank you, sir; I thank you very much. I should extremely like tocome, but--"

"Now, Ishmael, hush! I do not intend to take a denial. When I give aninvitation I am very much in earnest about it; and to show you how muchI am in earnest about this, I will tell you that I reflected that thiswas Thursday, and that if I asked you to-day you could tell your friendswhen you get home this evening, and come to-morrow morning prepared toremain over till Monday. Otherwise if I had not invited you tillto-morrow morning, you would have had to walk all the way back hometo-morrow evening to tell your friends before coming to see us. So yousee how much I wished to have you come, Ishmael, and how I studied waysand means. Mrs. Middleton and all your old schoolmates are equallyanxious to see you, so say no more about it, but come!"

"Indeed, I earnestly thank you, Mr. Middleton, and I was not about todecline your kind invitation in toto, but only to say that I am occupiedwith duties that I cannot neglect on Friday evenings and Saturdaymornings; but on Saturday evening I shall be very happy to come over andspend Sunday. "

"Very well, then, Ishmael; so be it; I accept so much of your pleasantcompany, since no more of it is to be had. By the way, Ishmael!"

"Yes, sir. "

"That was a gallant feat and a narrow escape of yours as it wasdescribed to me by my niece Claudia. Nothing less than the preservationof her life could have justified you in such a desperate act. "

"I am grateful to Miss Merlin for remembering it, sir. "

"As if she could ever forget it! Good Heaven! Well, Ishmael, I see thatyour pupils are assembling fast. I will not detain you from your dutieslonger. Good-morning; and remember that we shall expect you on Saturdayevening. "

"Good-morning, sir! I will remember; pray give my respects to Mrs. Middleton and all the family. "

"Certainly, " said Mr. Middleton, as he walked away. 

Ishmael re-entered the schoolroom, rang the bell to call the pupils in, and commenced the duties of the day. 

On Saturday afternoon, all his weekly labors being scrupulouslyfinished, Ishmael walked over to Rushy Shore Beacon, as Mr. Middleton'shouse was called. 

It was a very large old edifice of white stone, and stood upon theextreme point of a headland running out into the river. There were manytrees behind it, landward; but none before it, seaward; so that reallythe tall white house, with its many windows, might well serve as abeacon to passing vessels. 

Around the headland upon which it was situated the waters swept with amighty impetus and a deafening roar that gave the place its descriptivename of Rushy Shore. As the air and water here were mildly salt, thesituation was deemed very healthy and well suited to such delicate lungsas required a stimulating atmosphere, and yet could not bear the fullstrength of the sea breezes. As such the place had been selected by Mr. Middleton for the residence of his invalid wife. 

When Ishmael approached the house he found the family all assembled inthe long front porch to enjoy the fine view. 

Walter Middleton, who was the first to spy Ishmael's approach, ran downthe steps and out to meet him, exclaiming, as he caught and shook hishand:

"How are you, old boy, how are you? Looking in high health andhandsomeness, at any rate! I should have come down to school to see you, Ishmael, only, on the very morning after our arrival, I had to mount myhorse and ride down to Baymouth to attend to some business for myfather, and I did not get back until late last night. Come, hurry on tothe house! My mother is anxious to see her old favorite. "

And so, overpowering Ishmael with the cordiality of his greeting, Walterdrew his friend's arm within his own, and took him upon the porch in themidst of the family group, that immediately surrounded and warmlywelcomed him. 

"How handsome and manly you have grown, my dear, " said Mrs. Middleton, with almost motherly pride in her favorite. 

Ishmael blushed and bowed in reply to this direct compliment. And soonhe was seated among them, chatting pleasantly. 

This was but the first of many delightful visits to Bushy Shore enjoyedby Ishmael. Mr. Middleton liked to have him there, and often pressed himto come. And Ishmael, who very well knew the difference betweeninvitations given from mere politeness and those prompted by a sinceredesire for his company, frequently accepted them. 

One day Mr. Middleton, who took a deep interest in the struggles ofIshmael, said to him:

"You should enter some law school, my young friend. "

"I intend to do so, sir, as soon as I have accomplished two things. "

"And what are they?"

"Saved money enough to defray my expenses and found a substitute formyself as master of this little school. "

"Oh, bother the school! you must not always be sacrificing yourself tothe public welfare, Ishmael, " laughed Mr. Middleton, who sometimespermitted himself to use rough words. 

"But to duty, sir?"

"Oh, if you make it a question of duty, I have no more to say, " was theconcluding remark of Ishmael's friend. 

Thus, in diligent labor and intellectual intercourse, the young manpassed the summer months. 

One bright hope burned constantly before Ishmael's mental vision--ofseeing Claudia; but, ah! this hope was destined to be deferred from weekto week, and finally disappointed. 

Judge Merlin did not come to Tanglewood as usual this summer. He tookhis daughter to the seaside instead, where they lived quietly at aprivate boarding house, because it was not intended that Miss Merlinshould enter society until the coming winter at Washington. 

To Ishmael this was a bitter disappointment, but a bitter tonic, too, since it served to give strength to his mind. 

Late in September his friend Walter Middleton, who was a medicalstudent, left them to attend the autumn and winter course of lectures inBaltimore. Ishmael felt the loss of his society very much; but as usualconsoled himself by hard work through all the autumn months. 

He heard from Judge Merlin and his daughter through their letters to theMiddletons. They were again in Annapolis, where Miss Merlin was passingher last term at the finishing school, but they were to go to Washingtonat the meeting of Congress in December. 

As the month of November drew to a close Ishmael began to compute thelabors, progress, and profits of the year. He found that he had broughthis school into fine working order; he had brought his pupils on well;he had made Reuben Gray a very good reader, penman, arithmetician, andbookkeeper; and lastly, he had advanced himself very far in his chosenprofessional studies. But he had made but little money, and saved lessthan a hundred dollars. This was not enough to support him, even by theseverest economy, at any law school. Something else, he felt, must bedone for the next year, by which more money might be made. So afterreflecting upon the subject for some time, he wrote out twoadvertisements--one for a teacher, competent to take charge of a smallcountry school, and the other for a situation as bookkeeper, clerk, oramanuensis. In the course of a week the first advertisement was answeredby a Methodist preacher living in the same neighborhood, who proposed toaugment the small salary he received for preaching on Sundays, byteaching a day school all the week. Ishmael had an interview with thisgentleman, and finding him all that could be desired in a clergyman andcountry schoolmaster, willingly engaged to relinquish his own post infavor of the new candidate on the first of the coming year. 

His second advertisement was not yet answered; but Ishmael kept it onand anxiously awaited the result. 

At length his perseverance was crowned with a success greater than hecould have anticipated. It was about the middle of December, a few daysbefore the breaking up of his school for the Christmas holidays, that hecalled at the Shelton post office to ask if there were any letters for"X. Y. Z. , " those being the initials he had signed to his secondadvertisement. A letter was handed him; at last, then, it had come!Without scrutinizing the handwriting or the superscription, Ishmael toreit open and read:

"Washington, December 14. 

"Mr. 'X. Y. Z. '--I have seen your advertisement in the Intelligencer. I amin want of an intelligent and well-educated young man to act as myconfidential secretary and occasional amanuensis. If you will write tome, enclosing testimonials and references as to your character andcompetency, and stating the amount of salary you will expect to receive, I hope we may come to satisfactory arrangement. 

 "Respectfully yours, "RANDOLF MERLIN. "

It was from Claudia's father, then! It was a stroke of fate, or so itseemed to the surprised and excited mind of Ishmael. 

Trembling with joy, he retired to the private parlor of the quiet littlevillage inn to answer the letter, so that it might go off to Washingtonby the mail that started that afternoon. He smiled to himself as hewrote that Judge Merlin himself had had ample opportunity of personallytesting the character and ability of the advertiser, but that if furthertestimony were needed, he begged to refer to Mr. James Middleton, ofRushy Shore. Finally, he left the question of the amount of salary to besettled by the judge himself. He signed, sealed, and directed thisletter, and hurried to the post office to post it before the closing ofthe mail. 

And then he went home in a maze of delight. 

Three anxious days passed, and then Ishmael received his answer. It wasa favorable and a conclusive one. The judge told him that from the postoffice address given in the advertisement, as well as from othercircumstances, he had supposed the advertiser to be Ishmael himself, butcould not be sure until he had received his letter, when he was glad tofind his supposition correct, as he should much rather receive into hisfamily, in a confidential capacity, a known young man like Mr. Worththan any stranger, however well recommended the latter might be; hewould fix the salary at three hundred dollars, with board and lodging, if that would meet the young gentleman's views; if the terms suited, hehoped Mr. Worth would lose no time in joining him in Washington, as he, the writer, was overwhelmed with correspondence that was stillaccumulating. 

Ishmael answered this second letter immediately, saying that he would bein Washington on the following Tuesday. 

After posting his letter he walked rapidly homeward, calling at RushyShore on his way to inform his friends, the Middletons, of his change offortune. As Ishmael was not egotistical enough to speak of himself andhis affairs until it became absolutely needful for him to do so, he hadnever told Mr. Middleton of his plan of giving up the school to theMethodist minister and seeking another situation for himself. And duringthe three days of his correspondence with Judge Merlin he had not evenseen Mr. Middleton, whom he only took time to visit on Saturdayevenings. 

Upon this afternoon he reached Rushy Shore just as the family weresitting down to dinner. They were as much surprised as pleased to seehim at such an unusual time as the middle of the week. Mr. Middleton gotup to shake hands with him; Mrs. Middleton ordered another platebrought; Bee saw that room was made for another chair; and so Ishmaelwas welcomed by acclamation, and seated among them at the table. 

"And now, young gentleman, tell us what it all means. For glad as we areto see you, and glad as you are to see us, we know very well that youdid not take time to come here in the middle of the week merely toplease yourself or us; pleasure not being your first object in life, Ishmael, " said Mr. Middleton. 

"I regret to say, sir, that I came to tell you, I am going away onMonday morning, " replied Ishmael gravely, for at the moment he felt avery real regret at the thought of leaving such good and true friends. 

"Going away!" exclaimed all the family in a breath, and inconsternation; for this boy, with his excellent character and charmingmanners had always deeply endeared himself to all his friends. "Goingaway!" they repeated. 

"I am sorry to say it, " said Ishmael. 

"But this is so unexpected, so sudden!" said Mrs. Middleton. 

"What the grand deuce is the matter? Have you enlisted for a soldier, engaged as a sailor, been seized with the gold fever?"

"Neither, sir; I will explain, " said Ishmael. And forthwith he told allhis plans and prospects, in the fewest possible words. 

"And so you are going to Washington, to be Randolph Merlin's clerk!Well, Ishmael, as he is a thorough lawyer, though no very brilliantbarrister, I do not know that you could be in a better school. Heavenprosper you, my lad! By the way, Ishmael, just before you came in, wewere all talking of going to Washington ourselves. "

"Indeed! and is there really a prospect of your going?" inquiredIshmael, in pleased surprise. 

"Well, yes. You see the judge wishes a chaperone for his daughter thiswinter, and has invited Mrs. Middleton, and in fact all the family, tocome and spend the season with them in Washington. He says that he hastaken the old Washington House, which is large enough to accommodate ourunited families, and ten times as many. "

"And you will go?" inquired Ishmael anxiously. 

"Well, yes--I think so. You see, this place, so pre-eminently healthyduring eight months of the year, is rather too much exposed and toobleak in the depth of winter to suit my wife. She begins to coughalready. And as Claudia really does need a matronly friend near her, andas the judge is very anxious for us to come, I think all interests willbe best served by our going. "

"I hope you will go very soon, " said Ishmael. 

"In a week or ten days, " replied Mr. Middleton. 

Ishmael soon after arose and took his leave, for he had a long walkbefore him, and a momentous interview with Hannah to brave at the end ofit. 

After tea that evening Ishmael broke the news to Reuben and Hannah. Bothwere considerably startled and bewildered, for they, no more than theMiddletons, had received any previous hint of the young man'sintentions. And now they really did not know whether to congratulateIshmael on going to seek his fortune or to condole with him for leavinghome. Reuben heartily shook hands with Ishmael and said how sorry heshould be to part with him, but how glad he was that the young man wasgoing to do something handsome for himself. 

Hannah cried heartily, but for the life of her, could not have toldwhether it was for joy or sorrow. To her apprehension, to go toWashington and be Judge Merlin's clerk seemed to be one of the greatesthonors that any young man could attain; so she was perfectly delightedwith that part of the affair. But, on the other hand, Ishmael had beento her like the most affectionate and dearest of sons, and to part withhim seemed more than she could bear; so she wept vehemently and clung toher boy. 

Reuben sought to console her. 

"Never mind, Hannah, woman, never mind. It is the law of nature that theyoung bird must leave his nest and the young man his home. But never youmind! Washing-town-city aint out'n the world, and any time as you wantto see your boy very bad, I'll just put Dobbin to the wagon and cart youand the young uns up there for a day or two. Law, Hannah, my dear, younever should shed a tear if I could help it. 'Cause I feel kind o'guilty when you cry, Hannah, as if I ought to help it somehow!" said thegood fellow. 

"As if you could, Reuben! But it is I myself who do wrong to cry foranything when I am blessed with the love of such a heart as yours, Reuben! There, I will not cry any more. Of course, Ishmael must go tothe city and make his fortune, and I ought to be glad, and I am glad, only I am sich a fool. Ishmael, my dear, this is Wednesday night, andyou say you are going o' Monday morning; so there aint no time to makeyou no new shirts and things before you go, but I'll make a lot of 'em, my boy, and send 'em up to you, " said Hannah, wiping her eyes. 

Ishmael opened his mouth to reply; but Reuben was before him with:

"So do, Hannah, my dear; that will be one of the best ways of comfortingyourself, making up things for the lad; and you shan't want for money, for the fine linen nyther, Hannah, my dear! And when you have got themall done, you and I can take them up to him when we go to see him! Sothink of that, and you won't be fretting after him. And now, childun, itis bedtime!"

On Friday evening Ishmael, in breaking up his school for the Christmasholidays, also took a final leave of his pupils. The young master had soendeared himself to his rough pupils that they grieved sincerely at theseparation. The girls wept, and even rude boys sobbed. Our stupidlittle friend, Eddy, who could not learn grammar, had learned to lovehis kind young teacher, and at the prospect of parting with him andhaving the minister for a master roared aloud, saying:

"Master Worth have allers been good to us, so he have; but theminister--he'll lick us, ever so much!"

Ishmael distributed such parting gifts as his slender purse wouldafford, and so dismissed his pupils. 

On Sunday evening he took leave of his friends, the Middletons, whopromised to join him in Washington in the course of a week. 

And on Monday morning he took leave of Hannah and Reuben, and walked toBaymouth to meet the Washington steamboat. 

CHAPTER L. 

CLAUDIA'S CITY HOME. 

 How beautiful the mansion's throned Behind its elm tree's screen, With simple attic cornice crowned All graceful and serene. 

 --_Anon_. 

Just north of the Capitol park, upon a gentle eminence, within its ownwell-shaded and well-cultivated grounds, stood a fine, old, familymansion that had once been the temporary residence of George Washington. 

The house was very large, with many spacious rooms and broad passageswithin, and many garden walks and trellised arbors around it. 

In front were so many evergreen trees and in the rear was so fine aconservatory of blooming flowers, that even in the depth, of winter itseemed like summer there. 

The house was so secluded within its many thick trees and high gardenwalls that the noise of the city never reached its inmates, though theywere within five minutes' walk of the Capitol and ten minutes' drive ofthe President's mansion. 

Judge Merlin had been very fortunate in securing for the season thisdelightful home, where he could be within easy reach of his officialbusiness and at the same time enjoy the quiet so necessary to histemperament. 

That winter he had been appointed one of the judges of the Supreme Courtof the United States, and it was very desirable to have so pleasant adwelling place within such easy reach of the Capitol, where the courtwas held. At the head of this house his young daughter had been placedas its mistress. She had not yet appeared anywhere in public. She wasreserving herself for two events: the arrival of her chaperone and thefirst evening reception of the President. Her presence in the city wasnot even certainly known beyond her own domestic circle; though a vaguerumor, started no one knew by whom, was afloat, to the effect that MissMerlin, the young Maryland heiress and beauty, was expected to come outin Washington during the current season. 

Meanwhile she remained in seclusion in her father's house. 

It was to this delightful town house, so like the country in itsisolation, that Ishmael Worth was invited. 

It was just at sunrise on Tuesday morning that the old steamer"Columbia, " having Ishmael on board, landed at the Seventh Street wharf, and the young man, destined some future day to fill a high officialposition in the Federal government, took his humble carpetbag in hishand and entered the Federal city. 

Ah! many thousands had entered the National capital before him, and manymore thousands would enter it after him, only to complain of it, to carpover it, to laugh at it, for its "magnificent distances, " its unfinishedbuildings, its muddy streets, and its mean dwellings. 

But Ishmael entered within its boundaries with feelings of reverence andaffection. It was the City of Washington, the sacred heart of thenation. 

He had heard it called by shallow-brained and short-sighted people asublime failure! It was a sublime idea, indeed, he thought, but nofailure! Failure? Why, what did those who called it so expect? Did theyexpect that the great capital of the great Republic should spring intofull-grown existence as quickly as a hamlet around a railway station, orvillage at a steamboat landing? Great ideas require a long time fortheir complete embodiment. And those who sneered at Washington were aslittle capable of foreseeing its future as the idlers about thesteamboat wharf were of foretelling the fortunes of the modest-lookingyouth, in country clothes, who stood there gazing thoughtfully upon thecity. 

"Can you tell me the nearest way to Pennsylvania Avenue?" at length heasked of a bystander. 

"Just set your face to the north and follow your nose for about a mile, and you'll fetch up to the broadest street as ever you see; and thatwill be it, " was the answer. 

With this simple direction Ishmael went on until he came to the avenue, which he recognized at once from the description. 

The Capitol, throned in majestic grandeur upon the top of its woodedhill at the eastern extremity of the Avenue, and gleaming white in therays of the morning sun, seeming to preside over the whole scene, nextattracted Ishmael's admiration. As his way lay towards it, he had ampletime to contemplate its imposing magnificence and beauty. 

As he drew near it, however, he began to throw his eyes around thesurrounding country in search of Judge Merlin's house. He soonidentified it--a large old family mansion, standing in a thick grove oftrees on a hill just north of the Capitol grounds. He turned to theleft, ascended the hill, and soon found himself at the iron gate leadingto the grounds. 

Here his old acquaintance, Sam, being on duty as porter, admitted him, and, taking him by a winding gravel walk that turned and twisted amonggroves and parterres, led him up to the house and delivered him into thecharge of a black footman, who was at that early hour engaged in openingthe doors and windows. 

He was the same Jim who used to wait on the table at Tanglewood. 

"Good-morning, Mr. Ishmael, sir, " he said, advancing in a friendly andrespectful manner, to receive the new arrival. 

"The judge expected me this morning, Jim?" inquired Ishmael, when he hadreturned the greeting of the man. 

"Oh, yes, sir; and ordered your room got ready for you. The family aintdown yet, sir; but I can show you your room, " said Jim, taking Ishmael'scarpetbag from him, and leading the way upstairs. 

They went up three flights of stairs, to a small front room in the thirdstory, with one window, looking west. 

Here Jim sat down the carpetbag, saying:

"It's rather high up, sir; but you see we are expecting Mrs. Middletonand all her family, and of course the best spare rooms has to be givenup to the ladies. I think you will find everything you could wish for athand, sir; but if there should be anything else wanted, you can ring, and one of the men servants will come up. " And with this, Jim bowed andleft the room. 

Ishmael looked around upon his new domicile. 

It was a very plain room with simple maple furniture, neatly arranged; abrown woolen carpet on the floor; white dimity curtains at the window;and a small coal fire in the grate. Yet it was much better than Ishmaelhad been accustomed to at home, and besides, the elevated position ofthe room, and the outlook from the only window, compensated for alldeficiencies. 

Ishmael walked up to this window, put aside the dainty white curtain, and looked forth: the whole city of Washington, Georgetown, the windingof the Potomac and Anacostia rivers, Anacostia Island, and theundulating hills of the Virginia and Maryland shores lay spread like avast panorama before him. 

As the thicket was a necessity to Judge Merlin's nature, so the widelyextended prospect was a need of Ishmael's spirit; his eyes must travelwhen his feet could not. 

Feeling perfectly satisfied with his quarters, Ishmael at last left thewindow and made his toilet, preparatory to meeting the judgeand--Claudia!

"Oh, beating heart, be still! be still!" he said to himself, as theanticipation of that latter meeting, with all its disturbing influences, sent the blood rioting through his veins. 

Without being the very least dandyish, Ishmael was still fastidiouslynice in his personal appointments; purity and refinement pervaded hispresence. 

He had completed his toilet, and was engaged in lightly brushing somelint from his black coat, when a knock at his door attracted hisattention. 

It was Jim, who had come to announce breakfast and show him the way tothe morning room. 

Down the three flights of stairs they went again, and across the centralhall to a front room on the left that looked out upon the winter gardenof evergreen trees. Crimson curtained and crimson carpeted, with abright coal fire in the polished steel grate, and a glittering silverservice on the white draped breakfast table, this room had a veryinviting aspect on this frosty December morning. 

The judge stood with his back to the fire, and a damp newspaper open inhis hand. Claudia was nowhere visible--a hasty glance around the roomassured Ishmael that she had not yet entered it. Ishmael's movementswere so noiseless that his presence was not observed until he actuallywent up to the judge, and, bowing, accosted him with the words:

"I am here according to appointment, Judge Merlin; and hope I find youwell. "

"Ah, yes; good-morning! how do you do, Ishmael?" said the judge layingaside his paper and cordially shaking hands with the youth. "Punctual, Isee. Had a pleasant journey?"

"Thank you, sir; very pleasant, " returned Ishmael. 

"Feel like setting to work this morning? There is quite an accumulationof correspondence groaning to be attended to. "

"I am ready to enter upon my duties whenever you please, sir. "

"All right, " said the judge, touching a bell that presently summoned Jimto his presence. 

"Let us have breakfast immediately. Where is Miss Merlin? Let her knowthat we are waiting for her. "

"'Miss Merlin' is here, papa, " said a rich voice at the door. 

Ishmael's heart bounded and throbbed, and Claudia entered the breakfastroom. 

Such a picture of almost Oriental beauty, luxury, and splendor as shelooked! She wore a morning robe of rich crimson foulard silk, fastenedup the front with garnet buttons, each a spark of fire. The dress wasopen at the throat and wrists, revealing glimpses of the delicatecambric collar and cuffs confined by the purest pearl studs. Herluxuriant hair was carried away from her snowy temples and drooped inlong, rich, purplish, black ringlets from the back of her stately head. But her full, dark eyes and oval crimson cheeks and lips glowed with afire too vivid for health as she advanced and gave her father themorning kiss. 

"I am glad you have come, my dear! I have been waiting for you!" saidthe judge. 

"You shall not have to do so another morning, papa, '" she answered. 

"Here is Ishmael, Claudia, " said her father, directing her attention tothe youth, who had delicately withdrawn into the background; but who, atthe mention of his own name, came forward to pay his respects to theheiress. 

"I am glad to see you, Mr. Worth, " she said, extending her hand to himas he bowed before her; and then quickly detecting a passing shade ofpain in his expressive face, she added, smiling:

"You know we must begin to call you Mr. Worth some time, and there canbe no better time than this, when you make your first appearance in thecity and commence a new career in life. "

"I had always hoped to be 'Ishmael' with my friends, " he replied. 

"'Times change and we change with them, ' said one of the wisest ofsages, " smiled Claudia. 

"And coffee and muffins grow cold by standing; which is more to thepresent purpose, " laughed Judge Merlin, handing his daughter to her seatat the head of the table, taking his own at the foot, and pointing hisguest to one at the side. 

When all were seated, Claudia poured out the coffee and the breakfastcommenced. But to the discredit of the judge's consistency, it mighthave been noticed that, after he had helped his companion to steak, waffles, and other edibles, he resumed his newspaper; and, regardlessthat coffee and muffins grew cold by standing, recommenced reading thedebates in Congress. 

At length, when he finished reading and saw that his companions hadfinished eating, he swallowed his muffin in two bolts, gulped his coffeein two draughts, and started up from the table, exclaiming:

"Now, then, Ishmael, if you are ready?"

Ishmael arose, bowed to Claudia, and turned to follow his employer. 

The judge led him upstairs to a sort of office or study, immediatelyover the breakfast room, having an outlook over the Capitol grounds, andfitted up with a few book-cases, writing desks, and easy-chairs. 

The judge drew a chair to the central table, which was covered withpapers, and motioned Ishmael to take another seat at the same table. Assoon as Ishmael obeyed, Judge Merlin began to initiate him into his newduties, which, in fact, were so much of the same description with thosein which he had been engaged at Tanglewood, that he very soon understoodand entered upon them. 

The first few days of Ishmael's sojourn were very busy ones. There was agreat arrearage of correspondence; and he worked diligently, day andnight, until he had brought up all arrears to the current time. 

When this was done, and he had but two mails to attend to in one day, he found that five hours in the morning and five in the evening sufficedfor the work, and left him ample leisure for the pursuit of his legalstudies, and he devoted himself to them, both by diligent reading and byregular attendance upon the sessions of the circuit court, where hewatched, listened, and took notes, comparing the latter with thereadings. Of course he could not do all this without reducing his laborsto a perfect system, and he could not constantly adhere to this systemwithout practicing the severest self-denial. I tell you, young reader ofthis story, that in this republic there is no "royal road" to fame andhonor. The way is open to each and all of you; but it is steep andrugged, yes, and slippery; and you must toil and sweat and watch if youwould reach the summit. 

Would you know exactly how Ishmael managed this stage of his toilsomeascent? I will tell you. He arose at four o'clock those winter mornings, dressed quickly and went into the judge's study, where he made the firehimself, because the servants would not be astir for hours; then he satdown with the pile of letters that had come by the night's mail; helooked over the judge's hints regarding them, and then went to work andanswered letters or copied documents for four hours, or until thebreakfast bell rung, when he joined Claudia and her father at table. After breakfast he attended the judge in his study; submitted to hisinspection the morning's work; then took them to the post office, postedthem, brought back the letters that arrived by the morning's mail, andleft them with the judge to be read. This would bring him to abouteleven o'clock, when he went to the City Hall, to watch the proceedingsof the circuit court, making careful notes and comparing them with hisown private readings of law. He returned from the circuit court abouttwo o'clock; spent the afternoon in answering the letters left for himby the judge; dined late with the family; took the second lot of lettersto the post office, and returned with those that came by the eveningmail; gave them to the judge for examination, and then went up to hisroom to spend the evening in reading law and comparing notes. He allowedhimself no recreation and but little rest. His soul was sustained bywhat Balzac calls "the divine patience of genius. " And the more he wasenabled to measure himself with other men, the more confidence heacquired in his own powers. This severe mental labor took away much ofthe pain of his "despised love. " Ishmael was one to love strongly, ardently, constantly. But he was not one to drivel over a hopelesspassion. He loved Claudia: how deeply, how purely, how faithfully, allhis future life was destined to prove. And he knew that Claudia lovedhim; but that all the prejudices of her rank, her character, and hereducation were warring in her bosom against this love. He knew that sheappreciated his personal worth, but scorned his social position. He feltthat she had resolved never, under any circumstances whatever, to marryhim; but he trusted in her honor never to permit her, while loving him, to marry another. And in the meantime years of toil would pass; he wouldachieve greatness; and when the obscurity of his origin should be lostin the light of his fame, then he would woo and win Miss Merlin!

Such were the young man's dreams, whenever in his busy, crowded, usefullife he gave himself time to dream. 

And meanwhile, what was the conduct of the heiress to her presumptuouslover? Coldly proud, but very respectful. For, mark you this: No one whowas capable of appreciating Ishmael Worth could possibly treat himotherwise than with respect. 

CHAPTER LI. 

HEIRESS AND BEAUTY. 

 'Tis hard upon the dawn, and yet She comes not from the ball. The night is cold and bleak and wet, And the snow lies over all. 

 I praised her with her diamonds on! And as she went she smiled, And yet I sighed when she was gone, I sighed like any child. 

 --_Meredith_. 

Meanwhile all Claudia Merlin's time was taken up with milliners, mantuamakers, and jewelers. She was to make her first appearance in society atthe President's first evening reception, which was to be held on Friday, the sixth of January. It was now very near the New Year, and all herintervening time was occupied in preparations for the festivities thatwere to attend it. 

On the twenty-third of December, two days before Christmas, Mr. AndMrs. Middleton and all their family arrived. They came up by the"Columbia, " and reached Judge Merlin's house early in the morning. Consequently they were not fatigued, and the day of their arrival was aday of unalloyed pleasure and of family jubilee. 

Ishmael took sympathetic part in all the rejoicings, and was caressed byMr. And Mrs. Middleton and all their younger children as a sort ofsupplementary son and brother. 

On Christmas Eve, also, Reuben Gray, Hannah, and her children came totown in their wagon. Honest Reuben had brought a load of turkeys for theChristmas market, and had "put up" at a plain, respectable inn, muchfrequented by the farmers, near the market house; but in the course ofthe day he and his wife, leaving the children in the care of theirfaithful Sally, who had accompanied them in the character of nurse, called on Ishmael and brought him his trunk of wearing apparel. 

The judge, in his hearty, old-fashioned, thoughtless hospitality, wouldhave had Reuben and his family come and stop at his own house. ButReuben Gray, with all his simplicity, had the good sense firmly todecline this invitation and keep to his tavern. 

"For you know, Hannah, my dear, " he said to his wife, when they foundthemselves again, at the Plow, "we would bother the family more'n thejudge reckoned on. What could they do with us? Where could they put us?As to axing of us in the drawing room or sitting of us down in thedining room, with all his fine, fashionable friends, that wasn't to bethought on! And as to you being put into the kitchen, along of theservants, that I wouldn't allow! Now the judge, he didn't think of allthese things: but I did; and I was right to decline the invitation, don't you think so?"

"Of course you were, Reuben, and if you hadn't declined it, I would, andthat I tell you, " answered Mrs. Gray. 

"And so, Hannah, my dear, we will just keep our Christmas where we are!We won't deprive Ishmael of his grand Christmas dinner with his grandfriends; but we will ax him to come over and go to the playhouse with usand see the play, and then we'll all come back and have a nice supperall on us together. We'll have a roast turkey and mince pie and egg-nogand apple toddy, my dear, and make a night of it, once in a way! What doyou think?"

"I think that will be all very well, Reuben, so that you don't take toomuch of that same egg-nog and apple toddy, " replied Mrs. Gray. 

"Now, Hannah, did you ever know me to do such a thing?" inquired Reuben, with an injured air. 

"No, Reuben, I never did. But I think that a man that even so much astouches spiritable likkers is never safe until he is in his grave, " saidMrs. Gray solemnly. 

"Where he can never get no more, " sighed Reuben; and as he had to attendthe market to sell his turkeys that night, he left Hannah and went toput his horses to the wagon. 

So fine a trade did Reuben drive with his fat turkeys that he came homeat ten with an empty wagon and full pocketbook, and told Hannah that shemight have a new black silk "gownd, " and Sally should have a red calico"un, " and as for the children, they should have an outfit from head tofoot. 

Christmas morning dawned gloriously. All the little Middleton's weremade happy by the fruit of the Christmas tree. In the many kindinterchanges of gifts Ishmael was not entirely forgotten. Some lovingheart had remembered him. Some skillful hand had worked for him. When hewent up to his room after breakfast on Christmas morning, he saw uponhis dressing table a packet directed to himself. On opening it he founda fine pocket-handkerchief neatly hemmed and marked, a pair of nicegloves, a pair of home-knit socks, and a pair of embroidered slippers. Here was no useless fancy trumpery; all were useful articles; and in theold-fashioned, housewifely present Ishmael recognized the thoughtfulheart and careful hand of Bee, and grateful, affectionate tears filledhis eyes. He went below stairs to a back parlor, where he felt sure heshould find Bee presiding over the indoor amusements of her youngerbrothers and sisters. 

And, sure enough, there the pretty little motherly maiden was among thechildren. 

Ishmael went straight up to her, saying, in fervent tones:

"I thank you, Bee; I thank you for remembering me. "

"Why, who should remember you if not I, Ishmael? Are you not like one ofourselves? And should I forget you any sooner than I should forgetWalter, or James, or John?" said Bee, with a pleasant smile. 

"Ah, Bee! I have neither mother nor sister to think of me at festivetimes; but you, dear Bee, you make me forget the need of either. "

"You have 'neither mother nor sister, ' Ishmael? Now, do not think so, while my dear mother and myself live; for I am sure she loves you as ason, Ishmael, and I love you--as a brother, " answered Bee, speakingcomfort to the lonely youth from the depths of her own pure, kind heart. But ah! the intense blush that followed her words might have revealed toan interested observer how much more than any brother she loved IshmaelWorth. 

Judge Merlin, Claudia, Mr. And Mrs. Middleton, and Ishmael went tochurch. 

Bee stayed home to see that the nurses took proper care of the children. 

They had a family Christmas dinner. 

And after that Ishmael excused himself, and went over to the Plow tospend the evening with Reuben and Hannah. That evening the three friendswent to the theater, and saw their first play, "the Comedy of Errors, "together. And it did many an old, satiated play-goer good to see thehearty zest with which honest Reuben enjoyed the fun. Nor was Hannah orIshmael much behind him in their keen appreciation of the piece; only, at those passages at which Hannah and Ishmael only smiled, Reuben rubbedhis knees, and laughed aloud, startling all the audience. 

"It's a good thing I don't live in the city, Hannah, my dear, for Iwould go to the play every night!" said Reuben, as they left the theaterat the close of the performance. 

"And it is a good thing you don't, Reuben, for it would be the ruinationof you!" admitted Hannah. 

They went back to the Plow, where the Christmas supper was served forthem in the plain little private sitting room. After partakingmoderately of its delicacies, Ishmael bade them good-night, and returnedhome. 

Reuben and Hannah stayed a week in the city. Reuben took her about tosee all the sights and to shop in all the stores. And on New Year's day, when the President received the public, Reuben took Hannah to the WhiteHouse, to "pay their duty" to the chief magistrate of the nation. Andthe day after New Year's day they took leave of Ishmael and of all theirfriends, and returned home, delighted with the memory of their pleasantvisit to the city. 

Ishmael, after all these interruptions, returned with new zest to hisduties, and, as before, worked diligently day and night. 

Claudia went deeper into her preparations for her first appearance insociety at the President's first drawing room of the season. 

The night of nights for the heiress came. After dinner Claudia indulgedherself in a long nap, so that she might be quite fresh in the evening. When she woke up she took a cup of tea, and immediately retired to herchamber to dress. 

Mrs. Middleton superintended her toilet. 

Claudia wore a rich point-lace dress over a white satin skirt. Thewreath that crowned her head, the necklace that reposed upon her bosom, the bracelets that clasped her arms, the girdle that enclosed her waist, and the bunches of flowers that festooned her upper lace dress, were allof the same rich pattern--lilies of the valley, whose blossoms wereformed of pearl, whose leaves were of emeralds, and whose dew was ofdiamonds. Snowy gloves and snowy shoes completed this toilet, the effectof which was rich, chaste, and elegant beyond description. Mrs. Middleton wore a superb dress of ruby-colored velvet. 

When they were both quite ready, they went down into the drawing room, where Judge Merlin, Mr. Middleton, and Ishmael were awaiting them, andwhere Claudia's splendid presence suddenly dazzled them. Mr. Middletonand Judge Merlin gazed upon the radiant beauty with undisguisedadmiration. And Ishmael looked on with a deep, unuttered groan. Howdared he love this stately, resplendent queen? How dared he hope shewould ever deign to notice him? But the next instant he reproachedhimself for the groan and the doubt--how could he have been so fooledby a mere shimmer of satin and glitter of jewels?

Judge Merlin and Mr. Middleton were in the conventional evening dress ofgentlemen, and were quite ready to attend the ladies. They had nothingto do, therefore, but to hand them to the carriage, which theyaccordingly did. The party of four, Mr. And Mrs. Middleton, JudgeMerlin, and Claudia, drove off. 

Ishmael and Beatrice remained at home. Ishmael to study his law books;Beatrice to give the boys their supper and see that the nurses tookproper care of the children. 

CHAPTER LII. 

AN EVENING AT THE PRESIDENT'S. 

 There was a sound of revelry by night-- "Columbia's" capital had gathered then Her beauty and her chivalry: and bright The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men. A thousand hearts beat happily; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes looked love to eyes that spoke again, And all went merry as a marriage bell. 

 --_Byron_. 

The carriage rolled along Pennsylvania Avenue. The weather had changedsince sunset, and the evening was misty with a light, drizzling rain. Yet still the scene was a gay, busy, and enlivening one; the gas lampsthat lighted the Avenue gleamed brightly through the rain drops likesmiles through tears; the sidewalks were filled with pedestrians, andthe middle of the street with vehicles, all going in one direction, tothe President's palace. 

A decorously slow drive of fifteen minutes brought our party throughthis gay scene to a gayer one at the north gate of the President's park, where a great crowd of carriages were drawn up, waiting their turn todrive in. 

The gates were open and lighted by four tall lamps placed upon theposts, and which illuminated the whole scene. 

Judge Merlin's carriage drew up on the outskirts of this crowd ofvehicles, to wait his turn to enter; but he soon found himself enclosedin the center of the assemblage by other carriages that had come afterhis own. He had to wait full fifteen minutes before he could fall intothe procession that was slowly making its way through the right-handgate, and along the lighted circular avenue that led up to the frontentrance of the palace. Even on this misty night the grounds were gaylyilluminated and well filled. But crowded as the scene was, the utmostorder prevailed. The carriages that came up the right-hand avenue, fullof visitors, discharged them at the entrance hall and rolled away emptydown the left-hand avenue, so that there was a continuous procession offull carriages coming up one way and empty carriages going down theother. 

At length Judge Merlin's carriage, coming slowly along in the line, drewup in its turn before the front of the mansion. The whole façade of theWhite House was splendidly illuminated, as if to express in radiantlight a smiling welcome. The halls were occupied by attentive officers, who received the visitors and ushered them into cloakrooms. Within thehouse also, great as the crowd of visitors was, the most perfect orderprevailed. 

Judge Merlin and his party were received by a civil, respectableofficial, who directed them to a cloakroom, and they soon foundthemselves in a close, orderly crowd moving thitherward. When thegentlemen had succeeded in conveying their ladies safely to this bourneand seen them well over its threshold, they retired to the receptaclewhere they were to leave their hats and overcoats before coming back totake their parties into the saloon. 

In the ladies' cloakroom Claudia and her chaperone found themselves in abrilliant, impracticable crowd. There were about half-a-dozen talldressing glasses in the place, and about half-a-hundred young ladieswere trying to smooth braids and ringlets and adjust wreaths andcoronets by their aid. And there were about half-a-hundred more in thecenter of the room; some taking off opera cloaks, shaking out flounces, and waiting their turns to go to the mirrors; and some, quite ready andwaiting the appearance of their escort at the door to take them to thesaloon; and beside these some were coming in and some were passing outcontinually; and through the open doors the crowds of those newlyarriving and the crowds of those passing on to the reception rooms, werealways visible. 

Claudia looked upon this seething multitude with a shudder. 

"What a scene!" she exclaimed. 

"Yes, but with it all, what order! There has never been such order andsystem in these crowded receptions as now under the management of Mrs. ----, " said Mrs. Middleton, naming the accomplished lady who, thatseason, ruled the domestic affairs of the White House. 

As Mrs. Middleton and Claudia had finished their toilets, to thesticking of the very last pin, before leaving their dressing rooms athome, they had now nothing to do but to give their opera cloaks to awoman in attendance, and then stand near the door to watch for theappearance of Judge Merlin and Mr. Middleton. They had but a few minutesto wait. The gentlemen soon came and gave their arms to their ladies andled them to join the throng that were slowly making its way through thecrowded halls and anterooms towards the audience chamber, where thePresident received his visitors. It was a severe ordeal, the passage ofthose halls. Our party, like all their companions, were pressed forwardin the crowd until they were fairly pushed into the presence chamber, known as the small crimson drawing room, in which the President and hisfamily waited to receive their visitors. 

Yes, there he stood, the majestic old man, with his kingly gray headbared, and his stately form clothed in the republican citizen's dress ofsimple black. There he stood, fresh from the victories of a score ofwell-fought fields, receiving the meed of honor won by his years, hispatriotism, and his courage. A crowd of admirers perpetually passedbefore him; by the orderly arrangement of the ushers they came up on theright-hand side, bowed or courtesied before him, received a cordialshake of the hand, a smile, and a few kind words, and then passed on tothe left towards the great saloon commonly known as the East Room. Perhaps never has any President since Washington made himself so muchbeloved by the people as did General ---- during his shortadministration. Great love-compelling power had that dignified andbenignant old man! Fit to be the chief magistrate of a great, freepeople he was! At least so thought Judge Merlin's daughter, as shecourtesied before him, received the cordial shake of his hand, heard thekind tones of his voice say, "I am very glad to see you, my dear, " andpassed on with the throng who were proceeding toward the East Room. 

Once arrived in that magnificent room, they found space enough even forthat vast crowd to move about in. This room is too well known to thepublic to need any labored description. For the information of those whohave never seen it, it is sufficient to say that its dimensions aremagnificent, its decorations superb, its furniture luxurious, and itsilluminations splendid. Three enormous chandeliers, like constellations, flooded the scene with light, and a fine brass band, somewhere out ofsight, filled the air with music. A brilliant company enlivened, but didnot crowd, the room. There were assembled beautiful girls, handsomewomen, gorgeous old ladies; there were officers of the army and of thenavy in their full-dress uniforms; there were the diplomatic corps ofall foreign nations in the costumes of their several ranks andcountries; there were grave senators and wise judges and holy divines;there were Indian chiefs in their beads and blankets; there wereadventurous Poles from Warsaw; exiled Bourbons from Paris; and Comanchébraves from the Cordilleras! There was, in fact, such a curiousassemblage as can be met with nowhere on the face of the earth but inthe east drawing room of our President's palace on a great receptionevening!

Into this motley but splendid assemblage Judge Merlin led his beautifuldaughter. At first her entrance attracted no attention; but when one, and then another, noticed the dazzling new star of beauty that had sosuddenly risen above their horizon, a whisper arose that soon grew intoa general buzz of admiration that attended Claudia in her progressthrough the room and heralded her approach to those at the upper end. And--

"Who is she?" "Who can she be?" were the low-toned questions thatreached her ear as her father led her to a sofa and rested her upon it. But these questions came only from those who were strangers inWashington. Of course all others knew the person of Judge Merlin, andsurmised the young lady on his arm to be his daughter. 

Soon after the judge and his party were seated, his friends began tocome forward to pay their respects to him, and to be presented to hisbeautiful daughter. 

Claudia received all these with a self-possession, grace, andfascination peculiarly her own. 

There was no doubt about it--Miss Merlin's first entrance into societyhad been a great success; she had made a sensation. 

Among those presented to Miss Merlin on that occasion was the Honorable---- ----, the British minister. He was young, handsome, accomplished, and a bachelor. Consequently he was a target for all the shafts of Cupidthat ladies' eyes could send. 

He offered his arm to Miss Merlin for a promenade through the room. Sheaccepted it, and became as much the envy of every unmarried lady presentas if the offer made and accepted had been for a promenade through life. 

No such thought, however, was in the young English minister's mind; forafter making the circuit of the room two or three times, he brought hiscompanion back, and, with a smile and a bow, left her in the care of herfather. 

But if the people were inclined to feed their envy, they found plenty offood for that appetite. A few minutes after Miss Merlin had resumed herseat a general buzz of voices announced some new event of interest. Itturned out to be the entrance of the President and his family into theEast Room. 

For some good reason or other, known only to his own friendly heart, thePresident, sauntering leisurely, dispensing bows, smiles, and kind wordsas he passed, went straight up to the sofa whereon his old friend, JudgeMerlin, sat, took a seat beside him, and entered into conversation. 

Ah! their talk was not about state affairs, foreign or domestic policy, duties, imports, war, peace--no! their talk was of their boyhood's days, spent together; of the holidays they had had; of the orchards they hadrobbed; of the well-merited thrashings they had got; and of the good oldschoolmaster, long since dust and ashes, who had lectured and floggedthem!

Claudia listened, and loved the old man more, that he could turn fromthe memory of his bloody victories, the presence of his political cares, and the prospects of a divided cabinet, to refresh himself with thegreen reminiscences of his boyhood's days. It was impossible for theyoung girl to feel so much sympathy without betraying it and attractingthe attention of the old man. He looked at her. He had shaken hands withher, and said that he was glad to see her, when she was presented to himin his presence chamber; but he had not really seen her; she had beenonly one of the passing crowd of courtesiers for whom he felt awholesale kindness and expressed a wholesale good-will; now, however, helooked at her--now he saw her. 

Sixty-five years had whitened the hair of General ----, but he was notinsensible to the charms of beauty; nor unconscious of his own power ofconferring honor upon beauty. 

Rising, therefore, with all the stately courtesy of the old schoolgentleman, he offered his arm to Miss Merlin for a promenade through therooms. 

With a sweet smile, Claudia arose, and once more became the cynosure ofall eyes and the envy of all hearts. A few turns through the rooms, andthe President brought the beauty back, seated her, and took his own seatbeside her on the sofa. 

But the cup of bitterness for the envious was not yet full. Another humand buzz went around the room, announcing some new event of greatinterest; which seemed to be a late arrival of much importance. 

Presently the British minister and another gentleman were seenapproaching the sofa where sat the President, Judge Merlin, MissMerlin, and Mr. And Mrs. Middleton. They paused immediately before thePresident, when the minister said:

"Your Excellency, permit me to present to you the Viscount Vincent, latefrom London. "

The President arose and heartily shook hands with the young foreigner, cordially saying:

"I am happy to see you, my lord; happy to welcome you to Washington. "

The viscount bowed low before the gray-haired old hero, saying, in a lowtone:

"I am glad to see the President of the United States; but I am proud toshake the hand of the conqueror of--of--"

The viscount paused, his memory suddenly failed him, for the life andsoul of him he could not remember the names of those bloody fields wherethe General had won his laurels. 

The President gracefully covered the hesitation of the viscount andevaded the compliment at the same time by turning to the ladies of hisparty and presenting his guest, saying:

"Mrs. Middleton, Lord Vincent. Miss Merlin, Lord Vincent. "

The viscount bowed low to these ladies, who courtesied in turn andresumed their seats. 

"My old friend, Judge Merlin, Lord Vincent, " then said the plain, matter-of-fact old President. 

The judge and the viscount simultaneously bowed, and then, theseformalities being over, seats were found for the two strangers, and thewhole group fell into an easy chat--subject of discussion the oldquestion that is sure to be argued whenever the old world and the newmeet--the rival merits of monarchies and republics. The discussion grewwarm, though the disputants remained courteous. The viscount grew bored, and gradually dropped out of the argument, leaving the subject in thehands of the President and the minister, who, of course, had takenopposite sides, the minister representing the advantages of amonarchical form of government, and the President contending for arepublican one. The viscount noticed that a large portion of the companywere promenading in a procession round and round the room to the musicof one of Beethoven's grand marches. It was monotonous enough; but itwas better than sitting there and listening to the vexed questionwhether "the peoples" were capable of governing themselves. So he turnedto Miss Merlin with a bow and smile, saying:

"Shall we join the promenade? Will you so far honor me?"

"With pleasure, my lord, " replied Miss Merlin. 

And he rose and gave her his arm, and they walked away. And for thethird time that evening Claudia became the target of all sorts ofglances--glances of admiration, glances of hate. She had been led out bythe young English minister; then by the old President; and now she waspromenading with the lion of the evening, the only titled person at thisrepublican court, the Viscount Vincent. And she a newcomer, a mere girl, not twenty years old! It was intolerable, thought all the ladies, youngand old, married or single. 

But if the beautiful Claudia was the envy of all the women, the handsomeVincent was not less the envy of all the men present. "Puppy";"coxcomb"; "Jackanape"; "swell"; "Viscount, indeed! more probably someforeign blackleg or barber"; "It is perfectly ridiculous the manner inwhich American girls throw themselves under the feet of these titledforeign paupers, " were some of the low-breathed blessings bestowed uponyoung Lord Vincent. And yet these expletives were not intended to behalf so malignant as they might have sounded. They were but theimpulsive expressions of transient vexation at seeing the very pearl ofbeauty, on the first evening of her appearance, carried off by an alien. 

In truth, the viscount and the heiress were a very handsome couple; andnotwithstanding all the envy felt for them, all eyes followed them withsecret admiration. The beautiful Claudia was a rare type of the youngAmerican girl--tall, slender, graceful, dark-haired, dark-eyed, with arich, glowing bloom on cheeks and lips. And her snow white dress ofmisty lace over shining satin, and her gleaming pearls and sparklingdiamonds, set off her beauty well. Vincent was a fine specimen of theyoung English gentleman--tall, broad-chouldered, deep-chested; with astately head; a fair, roseate complexion; light-brown, curling hair andbeard; and clear, blue eyes. And his simple evening dress of specklessblack became him well. His manners were graceful, his voice pleasant, and his conversation brilliant; but, alas, for Claudia! the greatestcharm he possessed for her was--his title! Claudia knew another, handsomer, more graceful, more brilliant than this viscount; but thatother was unknown, untitled, and unnamed in the world. The viscount wasso engaged with his beautiful companion that it was some time before heobserved that the company was dropping off and the room was half empty. He then led Miss Merlin back to her party, took a slight leave of themall, bowed to the President, and departed. 

Judge Merlin, who had only waited for his daughter, now arose to go. Hisparty made their adieus and left the saloon. As so many of the guestshad already gone, they found the halls and anterooms comparatively freeof crowds, and easily made their way to the gentlemen's cloakroom andthe ladies' dressing room, and thence to the entrance hall. Mr. Middleton went out to call the carriage, which was near at hand. And thewhole party entered and drove homeward. The sky had not cleared, thedrizzle still continued; but the lamps gleamed brightly through theraindrops, and the Avenue was as gay at midnight as it had been atmidday. As the carriage rolled along, Judge Merlin and Mr. And Mrs. Middleton discussed the reception, the President, the company, andespecially the young English viscount. 

"He is the son and heir of the Earl of Hurstmonceux, whose estates liesomewhere in the rich county of Sussex. The title did not come to thepresent earl in the direct line of descent. The late earl diedchildless, at a very advanced age; and the title fell to his distantrelation, Lord Banff, the father of this young man, whose estates lieaway up in the north of Scotland somewhere. Thus the Scottish Lord Banffbecame Earl of Hurstmonceux, and his eldest son, our new acquaintance, took the second title in the family, and became Lord Vincent, " saidJudge Merlin. 

"The English minister gave you this information?" inquired Mr. Middleton. 

"Yes, he did; I suppose he thought it but right to put me in possessionof all such facts in relation to a young foreigner whom he had beeninstrumental in introducing to my family. But, by the way, Middleton--Hurstmonceux? Was not that the title of the young dowagercountess whom Brudenell married, and parted with, years ago?"

"Yes; and I suppose that she was the widow of that very old man, thelate Earl of Hurstmonceux, who died childless; in fact, she must havebeen. "

"I wonder whatever became of her?"

"I do not know; I know nothing whatever about the last Countess ofHurstmonceux; but I know very well who has a fair prospect of becomingthe next Countess of Hurstmonceux, if She pleases!" replied Mr. Middleton, with a merry glance at his niece. 

Claudia, who had been a silent, thoughtful, and attentive listener totheir conversation, did not reply, but smothered a sigh and turned tolook out of the window. The carriage was just drawing up before theirown gate. 

The whole face of the house was closed and darkened except one littlelight that burned in a small front window at the very top of the house. 

It was Ishmael's lamp; and, as plainly as if she had been in the room, Claudia in imagination saw the pale young face bent studiously over thevolume lying open before him. 

With another inward sigh Claudia gave her hand to her uncle, who hadleft the carriage to help her out. And then the whole party entered thehouse, where they were admitted by sleepy Jim. 

And in another half hour they were all in repose. 

CHAPTER LIII. 

THE VISCOUNT VINCENT. 

 A king may make a belted knight, A marquis, duke and a' that, But an honest man's aboon his might Gude faith he mauna fa' that! For a' that and a' that, Their dignities and a' that, The pith o' sense and pride o' worth Are higher ranks than a' that. 

 --_Robert Burns_. 

The next morning Ishmael and Bee, the only hard workers in the family, were the first to make their appearance in the breakfast room. They hadboth been up for hours--Ishmael in the library, answering letters, andBee in the nursery, seeing that the young children were properly washed, dressed, and fed. And now, at the usual hour, they came down, a littlehungry, and impatient for the morning meal. But for some time no onejoined them. All seemed to be sleeping off the night's dissipation. Beewaited nearly an hour, and then said:

"Ishmael, I will not detain you longer. I know that you wish to go tothe courthouse, to watch the Emerson trial; so I will ring forbreakfast. Industrious people must not be hindered by the tardiness oflazy ones, " she added, with a smile, as she put her hand to thebell-cord. 

Ishmael was about to protest against the breakfast being hurried on hisaccount, when the matter was settled by the entrance of Judge Merlin, followed by Mr. Middleton and Claudia. After the morning salutations hadpassed, the judge said:

"You may ring for breakfast, Claudia, my dear. We will not wait for youraunt, since your uncle tells us that she is too tired to rise thismorning. "

But as Bee had already rung, the coffee and muffins were soon served, and the family gathered around the table. 

Beside Claudia's plate lay a weekly paper, which, as soon as she hadhelped her companions to coffee, she took up and read. It was a livelygossiping little paper of that day, published every Saturday morning, under the somewhat sounding title of "The Republican Court Journal, " andit gave, in addition to the news of the world, the doings of thefashionable circles. This number of the paper contained a longdescription of the President's drawing room of the preceding evening. And as Claudia read it, she smiled and broke in silvery laughter. 

Everyone looked up. 

"What is it, my dear?" inquired the judge. 

"Let us have it, Claudia, " said Mr. Middleton. 

"Oh, papa! oh, uncle! I really cannot read it out--it is too absurd! Isthere no way, I wonder, of stopping these reporters from giving theirauction-book schedule of one's height, figure, complexion, and all that?Here, Bee--you read it, my dear, " said Claudia, handing it to hercousin. 

Bee took the paper and cast her eyes over the article in question; butas she did so her cheek crimsoned with blushes, and she laid the paperdown. 

"Read it, Bee, " said Claudia. 

"I cannot, " answered Beatrice coldly. 

"Why not?"

"It makes my eyes burn even to see it! Oh, Claudia, how dare they takesuch liberties with your name?"

"Why, every word of it is praise--high praise. "

"It is fulsome, offensive flattery. "

"Oh, you jealous little imp!" said Miss Merlin, laughing. 

"Yes, Claudia, I am jealous! not of you; but for you--for your delicacyand dignity, " said Beatrice gravely. 

"And you think, then, I have been wronged by this public notice?"inquired the heiress, half wounded and half offended by the words of hercousin. 

"I do, " answered Beatrice gravely. 

"As if I cared! Queens of society, like other sovereigns, must be sotaxed for their popularity, Miss Middleton!" said Claudia, halflaughingly and half defiantly. 

Bee made no reply. 

But Mr. Middleton extended his hand, saying:

"Give me the paper. Claudia is a little too independent, and Bee alittle too fastidious, for either to be a fair judge of what is rightand proper in this matter; so we will see for ourselves. "

Judge Merlin nodded assent. 

Mr. Middleton read the article aloud. It was really a very livelydescription of the President's evening reception--interesting to thosewho had not been present; more interesting to those who had; and mostinteresting of all to those who found themselves favorably noticed. Tothe last-mentioned the notice was fame--for a day. The article was twoor three columns in length; but we will quote only a few lines. Oneparagraph said:

"Among the distinguished guests present was the young Viscount Vincent, eldest son and heir of the earl of Hurstmonceux and Banff. He waspresented by the British minister. "

Another paragraph alluded to Claudia in these terms:

"The belle of the evening, beyond all competition, was the beautifulMiss M----n, only daughter and heiress of Judge M----n, of the SupremeCourt. It will be remembered that the blood of Pocahontas runs in thisyoung beauty's veins, giving luster to her raven black hair, light toher dusky eyes, fire to her brown cheeks, and majesty and grace to allher movements. She is truly an Indian princess. "

"Well!" said Mr. Middleton, laying down the paper, "I agree with Bee. Itis really too bad to be trotted out in this way, and have all yourpoints indicated, and then be dubbed with a fancy name besides. Why, Miss Merlin, they will call you the 'Indian' Princess' to the end oftime, or of your Washington campaign. "

Claudia tossed her head. 

"What odds?" she asked. "I am rather proud to be of the royal lineage ofPowhatan. They may call me Indian princess, if they like. I will acceptthe title. "

"Until you get a more legitimate one!" laughed Mr. Middleton. 

"Until I get a more legitimate one, " assented Claudia. 

"But I will see McQuill, the reporter of the 'Journal, ' and ask him as aparticular favor to leave my daughter's name out of his next balloonfull of gas!" laughed the judge, as he arose from the table. 

The other members of the family followed. And each went about his or herown particular business. This day being the next following the firstappearance of Miss Merlin in society, was passed quietly in the family. 

The next day, being Sunday, they all attended church. 

But on Monday a continual stream of visitors arrived, and a great numberof cards were left at Judge Merlin's door. 

In the course of a week Claudia returned all these calls, and thus shewas fairly launched into fashionable life. 

She received numerous invitations to dinners, evening parties, andballs; but all these she civilly excused herself from attending; for itwas her whim to give a large party before going to any. To this end, sheforced her Aunt Middleton to issue cards and make preparations on agrand scale for a very magnificent ball. 

"It must eclipse everything else that has been done, or can be done, this season!" said Claudia. 

"Humph!" answered Mrs. Middleton. 

"We must have Dureezie's celebrated band for the music, you know!"

"My dear, he charges a thousand dollars a night to leave New York andplay for anyone!"

"Well? what if it were two thousand--ten thousand? I will have him. TellIshmael to write to him at once. "

"Very well, my dear. You are spending your own money, remember. "

"Who cares? I will be the only one who engages Dureezie's famous music. And, Aunt Middleton?"

"Well, my dear?"

"Vourienne must decorate the rooms. "

"My dear, his charges are enormous. "

"So is my fortune, Aunt Middleton, " laughed Claudia. 

"Very well, " sighed the lady. 

"And--aunt?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Devizac must supply the supper. "

"Claudia, you are mad! Everything that man touches turns to gold--forhis own pocket. "

Claudia shrugged her shoulders. 

"Aunt, what do I care for all that. I can afford it. As long as he canhold out to charge, I can hold out to pay. I mean to enjoy my fortune, and live while I live. "

"Ah, my dear, wealth was given for other purposes than the enjoyment ofits possessor!" sighed Mrs. Middleton. 

"I know it, aunty. It was given for the advancement of its possessor. Ihave another object besides enjoyment in view. I say, aunty!"

"Well, my child?"

"We must be very careful whom we have here. "

"Of course, my dear. "

"We must have the best people. "

"Certainly. "

"We must invite the diplomatic corps. "

"By all means. "

"And--all foreigners of distinction, who may be present in the city. "

"Yes, my love. "

"We must not forget to invite--"

"Who, my dear?"

"Lord Vincent. "

"Humph! Has he called here?"

"He left his card a week ago. "

The day succeeding this conversation the cards of invitation to theMerlin ball were issued. 

And in ten days the ball came off. 

It was--as Miss Merlin had resolved it should be--the most splendidaffair of the kind that has ever been seen in Washington, before orsince. It cost a small fortune, of course, but it was unsurpassed andunsurpassable. Even to this day it is remembered as the great ball. AsClaudia had determined, Vourienne superintended the decorations of thereception, dancing, and supper rooms; Devizac furnished the refreshment, and Dureezie the music. The élite of the city were present. The guestsbegan to assemble at ten o'clock, and by eleven the rooms were crowded. 

Among the guests was he for whom all this pageantry had been got up--theViscount Vincent. 

With excellent taste, Claudia had on this occasion avoided display inher own personal appointments. She wore a snow-white, mist-like tulleover white glacé silk, that floated cloud-like around her with everymovement of her graceful form. She wore no jewelry, but upon her head asimple withe of the cypress vine, whose green leaves and crimson budscontrasted well with her raven black hair. Yet never in all the splendorof her richest dress and rarest jewels had she looked more beautiful. The same good taste that governed her unassuming toilet withheld herfrom taking any prominent part in the festivities of the evening. Shewas courteous to all, solicitous for the comfort of her guests, yet nottoo officious. As if only to do honor to the most distinguished strangerpresent, she danced with the Viscount Vincent once; and after thatdeclined all invitations to the floor. Nor did Lord Vincent dance again. He seemed to prefer to devote himself to his lovely young hostess forthe evening. The viscount was the lion of the party, and his exclusiveattention to the young heiress could not escape observation. Everyonenoticed and commented upon it. Nor was Claudia insensible to the honorof being the object of this exclusive devotion from his lordship. Shewas flattered, and when Claudia was in this state her beauty becameradiant. 

Among those who watched the incipient flirtation commencing between theviscount and the heiress was Beatrice Middleton. She had come late. Shehad had all the children to see properly fed and put to bed before shecould begin to dress herself. And one restless little brother had kepther by his crib singing songs and telling stories until ten o'clockbefore he finally dropped off to sleep, and left her at liberty to go toher room and dress herself for the ball. Her dress was simplicityitself--a plain white tarletan with white ribbons; but it well becamethe angelic purity of her type of beauty. Her golden ringlets andsapphire eyes were the only jewels she wore, the roses on her cheeks theonly flowers. When she entered the dancing room she saw four quadrillesin active progress on the floor; and about four hundred spectatorscrowded along the walls, some sitting, some standing, some reclining, and some grouped. She passed on, greeting courteously those with whomshe had a speaking acquaintance, smiling kindly upon others, andobserving all. In this way she reached the group of which Claudia Merlinand Lord Vincent formed the center. A cursory glance showed her that onefor whom she looked was not among them. With a bow and a smile to thegroup she turned away and went up to where Judge Merlin stood for themoment alone. 

"Uncle, " she said, in a tone slightly reproachful, "is not Ishmael to bewith us this evening?"

"My dear, I invited him to join us, but he excused himself. "

"Of course, naturally he would do so at first, thinking doubtless thatyou asked him as a mere matter of form. Uncle, considering his position, you ought to have pressed him to come. You ought not to have permittedhim to excuse himself, if you really were in earnest with yourinvitation. Were you in earnest, sir?"

"Why, of course I was, my dear! Why shouldn't I have been? I should havebeen really glad to see the young man here enjoying himself thisevening. "

"Have I your authority for saying so much to Ishmael, even now, uncle?"inquired Bee eagerly. 

"Certainly, my love. Go and oust him from his den. Bring him down here, if you like--and if you can, " said the judge cheerily. 

Bee left him, glided like a spirit through the crowd, passed from theroom and went upstairs, flight after flight, until she reached the thirdfloor, and rapped at Ishmael's door. 

"Come in, " said the rich, deep, sweet voice--always sweet in its tones, whether addressing man, woman, or child--human being or bumb brute;"come in. "

Bee entered the little chamber, so dark after the lighted rooms below. 

In the recess of the dormer window, at a small table lighted by onecandle, sat Ishmael, bending over an open volume. His cheek was pale, his expression weary. He looked up, and recognizing Bee, arose with asmile to meet her. 

"How dark you are up here, all alone, Ishmael, " she said, comingforward. 

Ishmael snuffed his candle, picked the wick, and sat it up on his pileof books that it might give a better light, and then turned againsmilingly towards Bee, offered her a chair and stood as if waiting hercommand. 

"What are you doing up here alone, Ishmael?" she inquired, with her handupon the back of the chair that she omitted to take. 

"I am studying 'Kent's Commentaries, '" answered the young man. 

"I wish you would study your own health a little more, Ishmael! Why areyou not down with us?"

"My dear Bee, I am better here. "

"Nonsense, Ishmael! You are here too much. You confine yourself tooclosely to study. You should remember the plain old proverb--proverbsare the wisdom of nations, you know--the old proverb which says: 'Allwork and no play makes Jack a dull boy. ' Come!"

"My dear friend, Bee, you must excuse me. "

"But I will not. "

"Bee--"

"I insist upon your coming, Ishmael. "

"Bee, do not. I should be the wrong man in the wrong place. "

"Now, why do you say that?"

"Because I have no business in a ballroom, Bee. "

"You have as much business there as anyone else. "

"What should I do there, Bee?"

"Dance! waltz! polka! At our school balls you were one of the bestdancers we had, I recollect. Now, with your memory and your ear formusic, you would do as well as then. "

"But who would dance with me in Washington, dear Bee? I am a totalstranger to everyone out of this family. And I have no right to ask anintroduction to any of the belles, " said Ishmael. 

"I will dance with you, Ishmael, to begin with, if you will accept me asa partner. And I do not think you will venture to refuse your littleadopted sister and old playmate. Come, Ishmael. "

"Dearest little sister, do you know that I declined Judge Merlin'sinvitation?"

"Yes; he told me so, and sent me here to say to you, that he will notexcuse you, that he insists upon your coming. Come, Ishmael!"

"Dear Bee, you constrain me. I will come. Yes, I confess I am glad to be'constrained. ' Sometimes, dear, we require to be compelled to do as welike; or, in other words, our consciences require just excuses foryielding certain points to our inclinations. I have been secretlywishing to be with you all the evening. The distant sound of the musichas been alluring me very persuasively. (That is a magnificent band ofDureezie's, by the way. ) I have been longing to join the festivities. And I am glad, my little liege lady, that you lay your royal commands onme to do so. "

"That is right, Ishmael. I must say that you yield gracefully. Well, Iwill leave you now to prepare your toilet. And--Ishmael?"

"Yes, Bee?"

"Ring for more light! You will never be able to render yourselfirresistible with the aid of a single candle on one side of your glass, "said Bee, as she made her laughing exit. 

Ishmael followed her advice in every particular, and soon made himselfready to appear in the ball. When just about to leave the room hethought of his gloves, and doubted whether he had a pair fordrawing-room use. Then suddenly he recollected Bee's Christmas presentthat he had laid away as something too sacred for use. He went and tookfrom the parcel the straw-colored kid gloves she had given him, and drewthem on as he descended the stairs, whispering to himself:

"Even for these I am indebted to her--may Heaven bless her!"

CHAPTER LIV. 

ISHMAEL AT THE BALL. 

 Yes! welcome, right welcome--and give us your hand, You shall not stand "out in the cold"! If new friends are true friends, I can't understand Why hearts should hold out till they're old; Then come with all welcome and fear not to fling Reserve to the winds and the waves, For thou never canst live, the cold-blooded thing Society makes of its slaves. 

 --_M. F. Tupper_. 

A very handsome young fellow was Ishmael Worth as he entered the drawingroom that evening. He had attained his full height, over six feet, andhe had grown broad-shouldered and full-chested, with the prospect ofbecoming the athletic man of majestic presence that he appeared in riperyears. His hair and eyes were growing much darker; you might now callthe first dark brown and the last dark gray. His face was somewhatfuller; but his forehead was still high, broad, and massive, and theline of his profile was clear-cut, distinct, and classic; his lips werefull and beautifully curved; and, to sum up, he still retained thepeculiar charm of his countenance--the habit of smiling only with hiseyes. How intense is the light of a smile that is confined to the eyesonly. His dress is not worth notice. All gentlemen dress alike forevening parties; all wear the stereotyped black dress coat, light kidgloves, etc. , etc. , etc. , and he wore the uniform for such cases madeand provided. Only everything that Ishmael put on looked like thecostume of a prince. 

He entered the lighted and crowded drawing room very hesitatingly, looking over that splendid but confused assemblage until he caught theeye of Judge Merlin, who immediately came forward to meet him, saying ina low tone:

"I am glad you changed your mind and decided to come down. You mustbecome acquainted with some of my acquaintances. You must make friends, Ishmael, as well as gain knowledge, if you would advance yourself. Comealong!"

And the judge led him into the thick of the crowd. 

Little more than a year before the judge had said, in speaking ofIshmael: "Of course, owing to the circumstances of his birth, he nevercan hope to attain the position of a gentleman, never. " But the judgehad forgotten all about that now. People usually did forget Ishmael'shumble origin in his exalted presence. I use the word "exalted" withtruth, as it applied to his air and manner. The judge certainly forgotthat Ishmael was not Society's gentleman as well as "nature's nobleman, "when, taking him through the crowd, he said:

"I shall introduce you to some young ladies. The first one I present youto will be Miss Tourneysee, the daughter of General Tourneysee. You mustimmediately ask her to dance; etiquette will require you to do so. "

"But, " smiled Ishmael, "I am already engaged to dance the next set withBee. "

"You verdant youth. So, probably, is she--Miss Tourneysee, Imean--engaged ten sets deep. Ask her for the honor of her hand as soonas she is disengaged, " replied the judge, who straightway led Ishmael upto a very pretty young girl, in blue crêpe, to whom he presented theyoung man in due form. 

Ishmael bowed and proffered his petition. 

The case was not so hopeless as the judge had represented it to be. MissTourneysee was engaged for the next three sets, but would be happy todance the fourth with Mr. Worth. 

At that moment the partner to whom she was engaged for the quadrille, then forming, came up to claim her hand, and she arose and slightlycourtesied to Judge Merlin and Ishmael Worth, and walked away with hercompanion. 

Ishmael looked around for his own lovely partner, and Bee, smiling at alittle distance, caught his eye. He bowed to Judge Merlin and went up toher and led her to the head of one of the sets about to be formed. 

In the meantime, "Who is he?" whispered many voices, while many eyesfollowed the stranger who had come among them. 

Among those who observed the entrance of Ishmael was the ViscountVincent. Half bending, in an elegant attitude, with his white-glovedhand upon the arm of the sofa where Miss Merlin reclined, he watched thestranger. Presently he said to her:

"Excuse me, but--who is that very distinguished-looking individual?"

"Who?" inquired Claudia. She had not noticed the entrance of Ishmael. 

"He who just now came in the room--with Judge Merlin, I think. There, heis now standing up, with that pretty little creature in white with thegolden ringlets. "

"Oh, " said Claudia, following his glance. "That 'pretty little creature'is my cousin, Miss Middleton. "

"I beg ten thousand pardons, " said Vincent. 

"And her partner, " continued Claudia, "is Mr. Worth, a very promisingyoung--" She could not say gentleman; she would not say man; so shehesitated a little while, and then said: "He is a very talented younglaw student with my papa. "

"Ah! do you know that at first I really took him for an old friend ofmine, an American gentleman from--Maryland, I believe. "

"Mr. Worth is from Maryland, " said Claudia. 

"Then he is probably a relative of the gentleman in question. Thelikeness is so very striking; indeed, if it were not that Mr. --Worth, did you say his name was?--is a rather larger man, I should take him tobe Mr. Brudenell. I wonder whether they are related?"

"I do not know, " said Claudia. And of course she did not know; butnotwithstanding that, the hot blood rushed up to her face, flushing itwith a deep blush, for she remembered the fatal words that had foreveraffected Ishmael in her estimation. 

"His mother was never married, and no one on earth knows who his fatherwas. "

The viscount looked at her; he was a man accustomed to read much inlittle; but not always aright; he read a great deal in Claudia's deepblush and short reply; but not the whole; he read that Claudia Merlin, the rich heiress, loved her father's poor young law student; but nomore; and he resolved to make the acquaintance of the young fellow, whomust be related to the Brudenells, he thought, so as to see for himselfwhat there was in him, beside his handsome person, to attract theadmiration of Chief Justice Merlin's beautiful daughter. 

"He dances well; he carries himself like my friend Herman, also. I fancythey must be nearly related, " he continued, as he watched Ishmael goingthrough the quadrille. 

"I am unable to inform you whether he is or not, " answered Claudia. 

While they talked, the dance went on. Presently it was ended. 

"You must come up, now, and speak to Claudia. She is the queen of theevening, you know!" said Ishmael's gentle partner. 

"I know it, dear Bee; and I am going to pay my respects; but let me findyou a seat first, " replied the young man. 

"No, I will go with you; I have not yet spoken to Claudia this evening, "said Bee. 

Ishmael offered his arm and escorted her across the room to the sofathat was doing duty as throne for "the queen of the evening. "

"I am glad to see you looking so well, Bee! Mr. Worth, I hope you areenjoying yourself, " was the greeting of Miss Merlin, as they came up. 

Then turning towards the viscount, she said:

"Beatrice, my dear, permit me--Lord Vincent, my cousin, Miss Middleton. "

A low bow from the gentleman, a slight courtesy from the lady, and thatwas over. 

"Lord Vincent--Mr. Worth, " said Claudia. 

Two distant bows acknowledged this introduction--so distant thatClaudia felt herself called upon to mediate, which she did by saying:

"Mr. Worth, Lord Vincent has been particularly interested in you, eversince you entered the room. He finds a striking resemblance betweenyourself and a very old friend of his own, who is also from your nativecounty. "

Ishmael looked interested, and his smiling eyes turned from Claudia toLord Vincent in good-humored inquiry. 

"I allude to Mr. Herman Brudenell of Brudenell Hall, Maryland, who hasbeen living in England lately. There is a very striking likeness betweenhim and yourself; so striking that I might have mistaken one for theother; but that you are larger, and, now that I see you closely, darker, than he is. Perhaps you are relatives, " said Lord Vincent. 

"Oh, no; not at all; not the most distant. I am not even acquainted withthe gentleman; never set eyes on him in my life!" said Ishmael, smilingingenuously; for of course he thought he was speaking the exact truth. 

But oh, Herman! oh, Nora! if he from the nethermost parts of theearth--if she from the highest heaven could have heard that honestdenial of his parentage from the truthful lips of their gifted son!

"There is something incomprehensible in the caprices of nature, inmaking people who are in no way related so strongly resemble eachother, " said Lord Vincent. 

"There is, " admitted Ishmael. 

At this moment the music ceased, the dancers left the floor, and therewas a considerable movement of the company toward the back of the room. 

"I think they are going to supper. Will you permit me to take you in, Miss Merlin?" said Lord Vincent, offering his arm. 

"If you please, " said Claudia, rising to take it. 

"Shall I have the honor, dear Bee?" inquired Ishmael. 

Beatrice answered by putting her hand within Ishmael's arm. And theyfollowed the company to the supper room--scene of splendor, magnificence, and luxury that baffles all description, except that ofthe reporter of the "Republican Court Journal, " who, in speaking of thesupper, said:

"In all his former efforts, it was granted by everyone, that Devizacsurpassed all others; but in this supper at Judge Merlin's, Devizacsurpassed himself!"

After supper Ishmael danced the last quadrille with Miss Tourneysee; andwhen that was over, the time-honored old contra-dance of Sir Roger deCoverly was called, in which nearly all the company took part--Ishmaeldancing with a daughter of a distinguished senator, and a certainCaptain Todd dancing with Bee. 

When the last dance was over, the hour being two o'clock in the morning, the party separated, well pleased with their evening's entertainment. Ishmael went up to his den, and retired to bed: but ah! not to repose. The unusual excitement of the evening, the light, the splendor, theluxury, the guests, and among them all the figures of Claudia and theviscount, haunting memory and stimulating imagination, forbade repose. Ever, in the midst of all his busy, useful, aspiring life he wasconscious, deep in his heart, of a gnawing anguish, whose name wasClaudia Merlin. To-night this deep-seated anguish tortured him like thevulture of Prometheus. One vivid picture was always before his mind'seye--the sofa, with the beautiful figure of Claudia reclining upon it, and the stately form of the viscount, leaning with deferentialadmiration over her. The viscount's admiration of the beauty was patent;he did not attempt to conceal it. Claudia's pride and pleasure in herconquest were also undeniable; she took no pains to veil them. 

And for this cause Ishmael could not sleep, but lay battling all nightwith his agony. He arose the next morning pale and ill, from therestless bed and wretched night, but fully resolved to struggle with andconquer his hopeless love. 

"I must not, I will not, let this passion enervate me! I have work to doin this world, and I must do it with all my strength!" he said tohimself, as he went into the library. 

Ishmael had gradually passed upward from his humble position ofamanuensis to be the legal assistant and almost partner of the judge inhis office business. In fact, Ishmael was his partner in everythingexcept a share in the profits; he received none of them; he still workedfor his small salary as amanuensis; not that the judge willfully availedhimself of the young man's valuable assistance without giving him dueremuneration, but the change in Ishmael's relations to his employer hadcome on so naturally and gradually, that at no one time had thought ofraising the young man's salary to the same elevation of his position andservices occurred to Judge Merlin. 

It was ever by measuring himself with others that Ishmael proved hisown relative proportion of intellect, knowledge, and power. He had beendiligently studying law for more than two years. He had been attendingthe sessions of the courts of law both in the country and in the city. And he had been the confidential assistant of Judge Merlin for manymonths. 

In his attendance upon the sessions of the circuit courts in Washington, and in listening to the pleadings of the lawyers and the charges of thejudges, and watching the results of the trials--he had made thisdiscovery--namely, that he had attained as fair a knowledge of law aswas possessed by many of the practicing lawyers of these courts, and heresolved to consult his employer, Judge Merlin, upon the expediency ofhis making application for admission to practice at the Washington bar. 

CHAPTER LV. 

A STEP HIGHER. 

 He will not wait for chances, For luck he does not look; In faith his spirit glances At Providence, God's book; And there discerning truly That right is might at length, He dares go forward duly In quietness and strength, Unflinching and unfearing, The flatterer of none, And in good courage wearing, The honors he has won. 

 --_M. F. Tupper_. 

Ishmael took an early opportunity of speaking to the judge of hisprojects. It was one day when they had got through the morning's workand were seated in the library together, enjoying a desultory chatbefore it was time to go to court, that Ishmael said:

"Judge Merlin, I am about to make application to be admitted to practiceat the Washington bar. "

The judge looked up in surprise. 

"Why, Ishmael, you have not graduated at any law school! You have noteven had one term of instruction at any such school. "

"I know that I have not enjoyed such advantages, sir; but I have readlaw very diligently for the last three years, and with what memory andunderstanding I possess, I have profited by my reading. "

"But that is not like a regular course of study at a law school. "

"Perhaps not, sir; but in addition to my reading, I have had aconsiderable experience while acting as your clerk. "

"So you have; and you have profited by all the experience you havegained while with me. I have seen that; you have acquitted yourselfunusually well, and been of very great service to me; but still I insistthat law-office business and law-book knowledge is not everything; thereis more required to make a good lawyer. "

"I know there is, sir; very much more, and I have taken steps to acquireit. For nearly two years I have regularly attended the sessions of thecourts, both in St. Mary's county and here in the city, and in that timehave learned something of the practice of law, " persisted Ishmael. 

"All very well, so far as it goes, young man; but it would have beenbetter if you had graduated at some first-class law school, " insistedthe old-fashioned, conservative judge. 

"Excuse me, sir, if I venture to differ with you, so far as to say, thatI do not think a degree absolutely necessary to success; or indeed ofmuch consequence one way or the other, " modestly replied Ishmael. 

The judge opened his eyes to their widest extent. 

"What reason have you for such an opinion as that, Ishmael?" heinquired. 

"Observation, sir. In my attendance upon the sessions of the courts Ihave observed some gentlemen of the legal profession who were graduatesof distinguished law schools, but yet made very poor barristers. I havenoticed others who never saw the inside of a law school, but yet madevery able barristers. "

"But with all this, you must admit that the great majority ofdistinguished lawyers have been graduates of first-class law schools. "

"Oh, yes, sir; I admit that. I admit also--for who, in his senses, coulddeny them?--the very great advantages of these schools as facilities; Ionly contend that they cannot insure success to any law student who hasnot talent, industry, perseverance, and a taste for the profession; andthat, to one who has all these elements of success, a diploma from theschools is not necessary. I think it is the same in every branch ofhuman usefulness. Look at the science of war. Remember the Revolutionarytimes. Were the great generals of that epoch graduates of any militaryacademy? No, they came from the plow, the workshop, and the countinghouse. No doubt it would have been highly advantageous to them had theybeen graduates of some first-class military academy; I only say it wasfound not to be absolutely necessary to their success as great generals;and in our later wars, we have not found the graduates of West Point, who had a great theoretic knowledge of the science of war, moresuccessful in action than the volunteers, whose only school was actualpractice in the field. And look at our Senate and House ofRepresentatives, sir; are the most distinguished statesmen theregraduates of colleges? Quite the reverse. I do not wish to be soirreverent as to disparage schools and colleges, sir, I only wish to beso just as to exalt talent, industry, and perseverance to their properlevel, " said Ishmael warmly. 

"Special pleading, my boy, " said the judge. 

Ishmael blushed, laughed, and replied:

"Yes, sir, I acknowledge that it is very special pleading. I have madeup my mind to be a candidate for admission to the Washington bar; andhaving done so, I would like to get your approbation. "

"What do you want with my approbation, boy? With or without it, you willget on. "

"But more pleasantly with it, sir, " smiled Ishmael. 

"Very well, very well; take it then. Go ahead. I wish you success. Butwhat is the use of telling you to go ahead, when you will go aheadanyhow, in spite of fate? Or why should I wish you success, when I knowyou will command success? Ah, Ishmael, you can do without me; but howshall I ever be able to do without you?" inquired the judge, with an oddexpression between a smile and a sigh. 

"My friend and patron, I must be admitted to practice at the Washingtonbar; but I will not upon that account leave your service while I can beof use to you, " said Ishmael, with earnestness; for next to adoringClaudia, he loved best for her sake to honor her father. 

"That's a good lad. Be sure you keep your promise, " said the judge, smiling, and laying his hand caressingly on Ishmael's head. 

And then as it was time for the judge to go to the Supreme Court, hearose and departed, leaving Ishmael to write out a number of legaldocuments. 

Ishmael lost no time in carrying his resolution into effect. He passed avery successful examination and was duly admitted to practice in theWashington courts of law. 

A few evenings after this, as Ishmael was still busy in the littlelibrary, trying to finish a certain task before the last beams of thesun had faded away, the judge entered, smiling, holding in his hand aformidable-looking document and a handful of gold coin. 

"There, Ishmael, " he said, laying the document and the gold on the tablebefore the young man; "there is your first brief and your first fee! Letme tell you it is a very unusual windfall for an unfledged lawyer likeyou. "

"I suppose I owe this to yourself, sir, " said Ishmael. 

"You owe it to your own merits, my lad! I will tell you all about it. To-day I met in the court an old acquaintance of mine--Mr. Ralph Walsh. He has been separated from his wife for some time past, living in theSouth; but he has recently returned to the city, and has sought areconciliation with her, which, for some reason or other, she hasrefused. He next tried to get possession of their children, in order tocoerce her through her affection for them; but she suspected his designand frustrated it by removing the children to a place of secrecy. Allthis Walsh told me this morning in the court, where he had come to getthe habeas corpus served upon the woman ordering her to produce thechildren in court. It will be granted, of course, and he will sue forthe possession of the children, and his wife will contest the suit; shewill contest it in vain, of course, for the law always gives the fatherpossession of the children, unless he is morally, mentally, orphysically incapable of taking care of them--which is not the case withWalsh; he is sound in mind, body, and reputation; there is nothing to besaid against him in either respect. "

"What, then, divided him from his family?" inquired Ishmael doubtfully. 

"Oh, I don't know; he had a wandering turn of mind, and loved to travela great deal; he has been all over the civilized and uncivilized world, too, I believe. "

"And what did she do, in the meantime?" inquired Ishmael, still moredoubtfully. 

"She? Oh, she kept a little day-school. "

"What, was that necessary?"

"I suppose so, else she would not have kept it. "

"But did not he contribute to the support of the family?"

"I--don't know; I fear not. "

"There was nothing against the wife's character?"

"Not a breath! How should there be, when she keeps a respectable school?And when he himself wishes, in getting possession of the children, onlyto compel her through her love for them to come to him. "

"Seething the kid in its mother's milk, or something quite as cruel, "murmured Ishmael to himself. 

The judge, who did not know what he was muttering to himself, continued:

"Well, there is the case, as Walsh delivered it to me. If there isanything else of importance connected with the case, you will doubtlessfind it in the brief. He actually offered the brief to me at first. Hehas been so long away that he did not know my present position, and thatI had long since ceased to practice. So when he met me in the courtroomto-day he greeted me as an old friend, told me his business at thecourt, said that he considered the meeting providential, and offered mehis brief. I explained to him the impossibility of my taking it, andthen he begged me to recommend some lawyer. I named you to him withouthesitation, giving you what I considered only your just meed of praise. He immediately asked me to take charge of the brief and the retainingfee, and offer both to you in his name, and say to you that he shouldcall early to-morrow morning to consult with you. "

"I am very grateful to you, Judge Merlin, for your kind interest in mywelfare, " said Ishmael warmly. 

"Not at all, my lad; for I owe you much, Ishmael. You have been aninvaluable assistant to me. Doing a great deal more for me than theletter of your duty required. "

"I do not think so, sir; but I am very glad to have your approbation. "

"Thank you, boy; but now, Ishmael, to business. You cannot do betterthan to take this brief. It is the very neatest little case that ever alawyer had; all the plain law on your side; a dash of the sentimental, too, in the injured father's affection for the children that have beentorn from him, the injured husband for the wife that repudiates him. Nowyou are good at law, but you are great at sentiment, Ishmael, andbetween having law on your side and sentiment at your tongue's end, youwill be sure to succeed and come off with flying colors. And suchsuccess in his first case is of the utmost importance to a young lawyer. It is in fact the making of his fortune. You will have a shower ofbriefs follow this success. "

"I do not know that I shall take the brief, sir, " said Ishmaelthoughtfully. 

"Not take the brief? Are you mad? Who ever heard of a young lawyerrefusing to take such a brief as that?--accompanied by such a retainingfee as that?--the brief the neatest and safest little case that evercame before a court! the retaining fee a hundred dollars! and no doubthe will hand you double that sum when you get your decision--forwhatever his fortune has been in times past, he is rich now, thisWalsh!" said the judge vehemently. 

"Who is the counsel for the other side?" asked Ishmael. 

"Ha, ha, ha! there's where the shoe hurts, is it? there's where the ponyhalts? that's what's the matter? You are afraid of encountering some ofthe great guns of the law, are you? Don't be alarmed. The schoolmistressis too poor to pay for distinguished legal talent. She may get somebriefless pettifogger to appear for her; a man set up for you to knockdown. Your case is just what the first case of a young lawyer shouldbe--plain sailing, law distinctly on your side, dash of sentiment, domestic affections, and all that, and certain success at the end. Yourvictory will be as easy as it will be complete. "

"Poor thing!" murmured Ishmael; "too poor to employ talent for thedefense of her possession of her own children!"

"Come, my lad; pocket your fee and take up your brief, " said the judge. 

"I would rather not, sir; I do not like to appear against a woman--amother defending her right in her own children. It appears to me to becruel to wish to deprive her of them, " said the gentle-spirited younglawyer. 

"Cruel; it is merciful rather. No one wishes really to deprive her ofthem, but to give them to their father, that she may be drawn throughher love for them to live with him. "

"No woman should be so coerced, sir; no man should wish her to be. "

"But I tell you it is for her good to be reunited to her husband. "

"Her own heart, taught by her own instincts and experiences, is the bestjudge of that. "

"Ishmael don't be Quixotic: if you do, you will never succeed in thelegal profession. In this case the law is on the father's side, and youshould be on the law's. "

"The law is the minister of justice, and shall never in my hands becomethe accomplice of injustice. The law may be on the father's side; butthat remains to be proved when both sides shall be heard; but it appearsto me that justice and mercy are on the mother's side. "

"That remains to be proved. Come, boy, don't be so mad as to refuse thisgolden opening to fame and fortune! Pocket your fee and take up yourbrief. "

"Judge Merlin, I thank you from the depths of my heart for your greatgoodness in procuring this chance for me; and I beg that you will pardonme for what I am about to say--but I cannot touch either fee or brief. The case is a case of cruelty, sir, and I cannot have anything to dowith it. I cannot make my debut in a court of law against a poorwoman, --a poor mother, --to tear from her the babes she is clasping toher bosom. "

"Ishmael, if those are the sentiments and principles under which youmean to act, you will never attain the fame to which your talents mightotherwise lead you--never!"

"No, never, " said Ishmael fervently; "never, if to reach it I have tostep upon a woman's heart! No! by the sacred grave of my own dearmother, I never will!" And the face of Nora's son glowed with anearnest, fervent, holy love. 

"Be a poet, Ishmael, you will never be a lawyer. "

"Never--if to be a lawyer I have to cease to be a man! But it is as Godwills. "

The ringing of the tea-bell broke up the conference, and they went downinto the parlor, where, beside the family, they found Viscount Vincent. 

And Ishmael Worth, the weaver's son, had the honor of sitting down totea with a live lord. 

The viscount spent the evening, and retired late. 

As Ishmael bade the family good-night, the judge said:

"My young friend, consult your pillow. I always do, when I can, beforemaking any important decision. Think over the matter well, my lad, anddefer your final decision about the brief until you see Walshto-morrow. "

"You are very kind to me, sir. I will follow your advice, as far as Imay do so, " replied Ishmael. 

That night, lying upon his bed, Ishmael's soul was assailed withtemptation. He knew that in accepting the brief offered to him, in suchflattering terms, he should in the first place very much please hisfriend, Judge Merlin--who, though he did not give his young assistantanything like a fair salary for his services, yet took almost a fatherlyinterest in his welfare; he knew also, in the second place, that hemight--nay, would--open his way to a speedy success and a brilliantprofessional career, which would, in a reasonable space of time, placehim in a position even to aspire to the hand of Claudia Merlin. Oh, mostbeautiful of temptations that! To refuse the brief, he knew, would be todisplease Judge Merlin, and to defer his own professional success for anindefinite length of time. 

All night long Ishmael struggled with the tempter. In the morning hearose from his sleepless pillow unrefreshed and fevered. He bathed hisburning head, made his morning toilet, and sat down to read a portion ofthe Scripture, as was his morning custom, before beginning the businessof the day. The portion selected this morning was the fourth chapter ofMatthew, describing the fast and the temptation of our Saviour. Ishmaelhad read this portion of Scripture many times before, but never withsuch deep interest as now, when it seemed to answer so well his ownspirit's need. With the deepest reverence he read the words:

"When he had fasted forty days and forty nights, he was afterwards anhungered. 

"The devil taketh him up into an exceeding high mountain, and showethhim all the kingdoms of the world and the glory of them;

"And saith unto him, All these things will I give thee if thou wilt falldown and worship me. 

"Then saith Jesus unto him, Get thee hence, Satan: for it is written, Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve. 

"Then the devil leaveth him, and behold, angels came and ministered untohim. "

Ishmael closed the book and bowed his head in serious thought. 

"Yes, " he said to himself; "I suppose it must be so. The servant is notgreater than the Master. He was tempted in the very opening of hisministry; and I suppose every follower of him must be tempted in likemanner in the beginning of his life. I, also, here in the commencementof my professional career, am subjected to a great temptation, that mustdecide, once for all, whether I will serve God or Satan! I, too, havehad a long, long fast--a fast from all the pleasant things of thisworld, and I am an hungered--ah, very much hungered for some joys! I, too, am offered success and honor and glory if I will but fall down andworship Satan in the form of the golden fee and the cruel brief held outto me. But I will not. Oh, Heaven helping me, I will be true to myhighest convictions of duty! Yes--come weal or come woe, I will be trueto God. I will be a faithful steward of the talents he has intrusted tome. "

And with this resolution in his heart Ishmael went down into the libraryand commenced his usual morning's work of answering letters and writingout law documents. He found an unusual number of letters to write, andthey occupied him until the breakfast bell rang. 

After breakfast Ishmael returned to the library and resumed his work, and was busily engaged in engrossing a deed of conveyance when the dooropened and Judge Merlin entered accompanied by a tall, dark-haired, handsome, and rather prepossessing-looking man, of about fifty years ofage, whom he introduced as Mr. Walsh. 

Ishmael arose to receive the visitor, and offer him a chair, which hetook. 

The judge declined the seat Ishmael placed for him, and said:

"No, I will leave you with your client, Ishmael, that he may explain hisbusiness at full length. I have an engagement at the State Department, and I will go to keep it. "

And the judge bowed and left the room. 

As soon as they were left alone Mr. Walsh began to explain his business, first saying that he presumed Judge Merlin had handed him the retainingfee and the brief. 

"Yes; you will find both there on the table beside you, untouched, "answered Ishmael gravely. 

"Ah, you have not had time yet to look at the brief. No matter; we cango over it together, " said Mr. Walsh, taking up the document inquestion, and beginning to unfold it. 

"I beg you will excuse me, sir; I would rather not look at the brief, asI cannot take the case, " said Ishmael. 

"You cannot take the case? Why, I understood from Judge Merlin that yourtime was not quite filled up; that you were not overwhelmed with cases, and that you could very well find time to conduct mine. Can you not doso?"

"It is not a question of time or the pressure of business. I have anabundance of the first and very little of the last. In fact, sir, I havebeen but very recently admitted to the bar, and have not yet beenfavored with a single case; I am as yet a briefless lawyer. "

"Not briefless if you take my brief; for the judge speaks in the highestterms of your talents; and I know that a young barrister always bestowsgreat care upon his first case, " said Mr. Walsh pleasantly. 

"Pray excuse me, sir; but I decline the case. "

"But upon what ground?"

"Upon the ground of principle, sir. I cannot array myself against amother who is defending her right to the possession of her own babes, "said Ishmael gravely. 

"Oh, I see! chivalric! Well, that is very becoming in a young man. But, bless you, my dear sir, you are mistaken in your premises. I do notreally wish to part the mother and children. If you will give me yourattention, I will explain--" began the would-be client. 

"I beg that you will not, sir; excuse me, I pray you; but as I reallycannot take the case, I ought not to hear your statement. "

"Oh, nonsense, my young friend! I know what is the matter with you; butwhen you have heard my statement, you will accept my brief, " said Walshpleasantly, for, according to a well-known principle in human nature, hegrew anxious to secure the services of the young barrister just inproportion to the difficulty of getting them. 

And so, notwithstanding the courteous remonstrances of Ishmael, hecommenced and told his story. 

It was the story of an egotist so intensely egotistical as to be quiteunconscious of his egotism; forever thinking of himself--foreveroblivious of others except as they ministered to his self-interest;filled up to the lips with the feeling of his rights and privileges; butentirely empty of any notion of his duties and responsibilities. Withhim it was always "I, " "mine, " "me"; never "we, " "ours, " "us. "

Ishmael listened under protest to this story that was forced upon hisunwilling ears. At its end, when the narrator was waiting to see whatimpression he had made upon his young hearer, and what comment thelatter would make, Ishmael calmly arose, took the brief from the tableand put it into the hands of Mr. Walsh, saying, with a dignity--aye, even a majesty of mien rarely found in so young a man:

"Take your brief, sir; nothing on earth could induce me to touch it!"

"What! not after the full explanation I have given you?" exclaimed theman in naïve surprise. 

"If I had entertained a single doubt about the propriety of refusingyour brief before hearing your explanation, that doubt would have beenset at rest after hearing it, " said the young barrister sternly. 

"What do you mean, sir?" questioned the other, bristling up. 

"I mean that the case, even by your own plausible showing, is one of thegreatest cruelty and injustice, " replied Ishmael firmly. 

"Cruelty and injustice!" exclaimed Mr. Walsh, in even more astonishmentthan anger. "Why, what the deuce do you mean by that? The woman is mywife! the children are my own children! And I have a lawful right to thepossession of them. I wonder what the deuce you mean by cruelty andinjustice!"

"By your own account, you left your wife nine years ago withoutprovocation, and without making the slightest provision for herself andher children; you totally neglected them from that time to this; leavingher to struggle alone and unaided through all the privations and perilsof such an unnatural position; during all these years she has worked forthe support and education of her children; and now, at last, when itsuits you to live with her again, you come back, and finding that youhave irrecoverably lost her confidence and estranged her affections, youwould call in the aid of the law to tear her children from her arms, andcoerce her, through her love for them, to become your slave and victimagain. Sir, sir, I am amazed that any man of--I will not say honor orhonesty, but common sense and prudence--should dare to think of throwingsuch a case as that into court, " said Ishmael earnestly. 

"What do you mean by that, sir? Your language is inadmissible, sir! Thelaw is on my side, however!"

"If the law were on your side, the law ought to be remodeled withoutdelay; but if you venture to go to trial with such a case as this, youwill find the law is not on your side. You have forfeited all right tointerfere with Mrs. Walsh, or her children; and I would earnestly adviseyou to avoid meeting her in court. "

"Your language is insulting, sir! Judge Merlin held a different opinionfrom yours of this case!" exclaimed Mr. Walsh, with excitement. 

"Judge Merlin could not have understood the merits of the case. But itis quite useless to prolong this interview, sir; I have an engagement atten o'clock and must wish you good-morning, " said Ishmael, rising andringing the bell, and then drawing on his gloves. 

Jim answered the summons and entered the room. 

"Attend this gentleman to the front door, " said Ishmael, taking up hisown hat as if to follow the visitor from the room. 

"Mr. Worth, you have insulted me, sir!" exclaimed Walsh excitedly, as hearose and snatched up his money and his brief. 

"I hope I am incapable of insulting any man, sir. You forced upon me astatement that I was unwilling to receive; you asked my opinion upon itand I gave it to you, " replied Ishmael. 

"I will have satisfaction, sir!" exclaimed Walsh, clapping his hat uponhis head and marching to the door. 

"Any satisfaction that I can conscientiously afford you shall beheartily at your service, Mr. Walsh, " said Ishmael, raising his hat andbowing courteously at the retreating figure of the angry visitor. 

When he was quite gone Ishmael took up his parcels of letters anddocuments and went out. He went first to the post office to mail hisletters, and then went to the City Hall, where the Circuit Court wassitting. 

As Ishmael walked on towards the City Hall he thought over the darkstory he had just heard. He knew very well that, according to the customof human nature, the man, however truthful in intention, had put thestory in its fairest light; and yet how dark, with sin on one side andsorrow on the other, it looked! And if it looked so dark from his fairshowing, how much darker it must look from the other point of view! Adeep pity for the woman took possession of his heart; an earnest wish tohelp her inspired his mind. He thought of his own young mother, whom hehad never seen, yet always loved. 

And he resolved to assist this poor mother, who had no money to paycounsel to help her defend her children, because it took every cent shecould earn to feed and clothe them. 

"Yes, the cause of the oppressed is the cause of God! And I will offerthe fruits of my professional labors to him, " said Nora's son, as hereached the City Hall. 

Ishmael was not one to wait for a "favorable opportunity. " Fewopportunities ever came to him except in the shape of temptations, whichhe resisted. He made his opportunities. So when the business thatbrought him to the courtroom was completed, he turned his steps towardsCapitol Hill. For he had learned from the statements of Judge Merlin andMr. Walsh that it was there the poor mother kept her little day-school. After some inquiries, he succeeded in finding the schoolhouse--a littlewhite frame building, with a front and back door and four windows, twoon each side, in a little yard at the corner of the street. Ishmaelopened the gate and rapped at the door. It was opened by a little girl, who civilly invited him to enter. 

A little school of about a dozen small girls, of the middle class insociety, seated on forms ranged in exact order on each side the narrowaisle that led up to the teacher's desk. Seated behind that desk was alittle, thin, dark-haired woman, dressed in a black alpaca and whitecollar and cuffs. At the entrance of Ishmael she glanced up with large, scared-looking black eyes that seemed to fear in every stranger to seean enemy or peril. As Ishmael advanced towards her those wild eyes grewwilder with terror, her cheeks blanched to a deadly whiteness, and sheclasped her hands and she trembled. 

"Poor hunted hare! she fears even in me a foe!" thought Ishmael, as hewalked up to the desk. She arose and leaned over the desk, looking athim eagerly and inquiringly with those frightened eyes. 

And now for the first time Ishmael felt a sense of embarrassment. Agenerous, youthful impulse to help the oppressed had hurried him to herpresence; but what should he say to her? how apologize for hisunsolicited visit? how venture, unauthorized, to intermeddle with herbusiness?

He bowed and laid his card before her. 

She snatched it up and read it eagerly. 

 ISHMAEL WORTH, _Attorney-at-Law_. 

"Ah! you--I have been expecting this. You come from my--I mean Mr. Walsh?" she inquired, palpitating with panic. 

"No, madam, " said Ishmael, in a sweet, reassured, and reassuring tone, for compassion for her had restored confidence to him. "No, madam, Iam not the counsel of Mr. Walsh. "

"You--you come from court, then? Perhaps you are going to have thewrit of habeas corpus, with which I have been threatened, served uponme? You need not! I won't give up my children--they are my own! Iwon't for twenty writs of habeas corpus, " she exclaimed excitedly. 

"But, madam--" began Ishmael soothingly. 

"Hush! I know what you are going to say; you needn't say it! You aregoing to tell me that a writ of habeas corpus is the most powerfulengine the law can bring to bear upon me! that to resist it would beflagrant contempt of court, subjecting me to fine and imprisonment! Ido not care! I do not care! I have contempt, a very profound contempt, for any court, or any law, that would try to wrest from a Christianmother the children that she has borne, fed, clothed, and educated allherself, and give them to a man who has totally neglected them alltheir lives. Nature is hard enough upon woman, the Lord knows! givingher a weaker frame and a heavier burden than is allotted to man! butthe law is harder still--taking from her the sacred rights with whichnature in compensation has invested her! But I will not yield mine!There! Do your worst! Serve your writ of habeas corpus! I will resistit! I will not give up my own children! I will not bring them intocourt! I will not tell you where they are! They are in a place ofsafety, thank God! and as for me--fine, imprison, torture me as muchas you like, you will find me rock!" she exclaimed, with her eyesflashing and all her little dark figure bristling with terror andresistance, for all the world like a poor little frightened kittenspluttering defiance at a big dog!

Ishmael did not interrupt her; he let her go on with her wild talk; hehad been too long used to poor Hannah's excitable nerves not to havelearned patience with women. 

"Yes, you will find me rock--rock!" she repeated; and to prove howmuch of a rock she was, the poor little creature dropped her head uponthe desk, burst into tears, and sobbed hysterically. 

Ishmael's experience taught him to let her sob on until her fit ofpassion had exhausted itself. 

Meanwhile one or two of the most sensitive little girls, seeing theirteacher weep, fell to crying for company; others whispered amongthemselves; and others, again, looked belligerent. 

"Go tell him to go away, Mary, " said the little one. 

"I don't like to; you go, Ellen, " said another. 

"I'm afraid. "

"Oh! you scary things! I'll go myself, " said a third; and, rising, this little one came to the rescue, and standing up firmly before theintruder said:

"What do you come here for, making our teacher cry? Go home thisminute; if you don't I'll run right across the street and fetch myfather from the shop to you! he's as big as you are!"

Ishmael turned his beautiful eyes upon this little champion of sixsummers, and smiling upon her, said gently:

"I did not come here to make anybody cry, my dear; I came to do yourteacher a service. "

The child met his glance with a searching look, such as only babes cangive, and turned and went back and reported to her companions. 

"He's good; he won't hurt anybody. "

Mrs. Walsh having sobbed herself into quietness, wiped her eyes, looked up and said:

"Well, sir, why don't you proceed with your business? Why don't youserve your writ?"

"My dear madam, it is not my business to serve writs. And if it was Ihave none to serve, " said Ishmael very gently. 

She looked at him in doubt. 

"You have mistaken my errand here, madam. I am not retained on theother side; I have nothing whatever to do with the other side. I haveheard your story; my sympathies are with you; and I have come here tooffer you my professional services, " said Ishmael gravely. 

She looked at him earnestly, as if she would read his soul. The womanof thirty was not so quick at reading character as the little child ofsix had been. 

"Have you counsel?" inquired Ishmael. 

"Counsel? No! Where should I get it?"

"Will you accept me as counsel? I came here to offer youmy services. "

"I tell you I have no means, sir. "

"I do not want any remuneration in your case; I wish toserve you, for your own sake and for God's; something we mustdo for God's sake and for our fellow creatures'. I wish to beyour counsel in the approaching trial. I think, with the favorof Divine Providence, I can bring your case to a successfulissue and secure you in the peaceful possession of your children. "

"Do you think so? Oh! do you think so?" she inquired eagerly, warmly. 

"I really do. I think so, even from the showing of the other side, who, of course, put the fairest face upon their own cause. "

"And will you? Oh! will you?"

"With the help of Heaven, I will. "

"Oh, surely Heaven has sent you to my aid. "

At this moment the little school clock struck out sharply the hour ofnoon. 

"It is the children's recess, " said the teacher. "Lay aside yourbooks, dears, and leave the room quietly and in good order. "

The children took their hoods and cloaks from the pegs on which theyhung and went out one by one--each child turning to make her littlecourtesy before passing the door. Thus all went out but two littlesisters, who living at a distance had brought their luncheon, whichthey now took to the open front door, where they sat on the steps inthe pleasant winter sunshine to eat. 

The teacher turned to her young visitor. 

"Will you sit down? And ah! will you pardon me for the rude receptionI gave you?"

"Pray do not think of it. It was so natural that I have not given it athought, " said Ishmael gently. 

"It is not my disposition to do so; but I have suffered so much; Ihave been goaded nearly to desperation. "

"I see that, madam; you are exceedingly nervous. "

"Nervous! why, women have been driven to madness and death with lesscause than I have had!"

"Do not think of your troubles in that manner, madam; do not exciteyourself, compose yourself, rather. Believe me, it is of the utmostimportance to your success that you should exhibit coolness andself-possession. "

"Oh, but I have had so much sorrow for so many years!"

"Then in the very nature of things your sorrows must soon be over. Nothing lasts long in this world. But you have had a recentbereavement, " said Ishmael gently, and glancing at her black dress;for he thought it was better that she should think of her chasteningfrom the hands of God rather than her wrongs from those of men. But tohis surprise, the woman smiled faintly as she also glanced at herdress, and replied:

"Oh, no! I have lost no friend by death since the decease of myparents years ago, far back in my childhood. No, I am not wearingmourning for anyone. I wear this black alpaca because it is cheap anddecent and protective. "

"Protective?"

"Ah, yes! no one knows how protective the black dress is to a woman, better than I do! There are few who would venture to treat with levityor disrespect a quiet woman in a black dress. And so I, who have nofather, brother, or husband to protect me, take a shelter under ablack alpaca. It repels dirt, too, as well as disrespect. It is cleanas well as safe, and that is a great desideratum to a poorschoolmistress, " she said, smiling with an almost childlike candor. 

"I am glad to see you smile again; and now, shall we go to business?"said Ishmael. 

"Oh, yes, thank you. "

"I must ask you to be perfectly candid with me; it is necessary. "

"Oh, yes, I know it is, and I will be so; for I can trust you, now. "

"Tell me, then, as clearly, as fully, and as calmly as you can, thecircumstances of your case. "

"I will try to do so, " said the woman. 

It is useless to repeat her story here. It was only the same oldstory--of the young girl of fortune marrying a spendthrift, whodissipated her property, estranged her friends, alienated heraffections, and then left her penniless, to struggle alone with allthe ills of poverty to bring up her three little girls. By her ownunaided efforts she had fed, clothed, and educated her three childrenfor the last nine years. And now he had come back and wanted her tolive with him again. But she had not only ceased to love him, butbegan to dread him, lest he should get into debt and make way with thelittle personal property she had gathered by years of labor, frugality, self-denial. 

"He says that he is wealthy, how is that?" questioned Ishmael. 

A spasm of pain passed over her sensitive face. 

"I did not like to tell you, although I promised to be candid withyou; but ah! I cannot benefit by his wealth; I could notconscientiously appropriate one dollar; and even if I could do so, Icould not trust in its continuance; the money is ill-gotten andevanescent; it is the money of a gambler, who is a prince one hour anda pauper the next. "

Then seeing Ishmael shrink back in painful surprise, she added:

"To do him justice, Mr. Worth, that is his only vice; it has ruined mylittle family; it has brought us to the very verge of beggary; it mustnot be permitted to do so again; I must defend my little home andlittle girls, against the spoiler. "

"Certainly, " said Ishmael, whose time was growing short; "give me penand ink; I will take down minutes of the statement, and then read itto you, to see if it is correct. "

She placed stationery before him on one of the school-desks, and hesat down and went to work. 

"You have witnesses to support your statement?" he inquired. 

"Oh, yes! scores of them, if wanted. "

"Give me the names of the most important and the facts they can swearto. "

Mrs. Walsh complied, and he took them down. When he had finished andread over the brief to her, and received her assurance that it wascorrect, he arose to take his leave. 

"But--will not all those witnesses cost a great deal of money? Andwill not there be other heavy expenses apart from the services ofcounsel that you are so good as to give me?" inquired the teacheranxiously. 

"Not for you, " replied Ishmael, in a soothing voice, as he shook handswith her, and, with the promise to see her again at the same hour thenext day, took his leave. 

He smiled upon the little sisters as he passed them in the doorway, and then left the schoolhouse and hurried on towards home. 

"Well!" said Judge Merlin, who was waiting for him in the library, "have you decided? Are you counsel for the plaintiff in the great suitof Walsh versus Walsh?"

"No, " answered Ishmael, "I am retained for the defendant. I have justhad a consultation with my client. "

"Great Jove!" exclaimed the judge, in unbounded astonishment. "It wasraving madness in you to refuse the plaintiff's brief; but to acceptthe defendant's--"

"I did not only accept it--I went and asked for it, " said Ishmael, smiling. 

"Mad! mad! You will lose your first case; and that will throw backyour success for years!"

"I hope not, sir. 'Thrice is he armed who hath his quarrel just, '"smiled Ishmael. 

At the luncheon table that day the judge told the story of Ishmael'squixotism, as he called it, in refusing the brief and the thumping feeof the plaintiff, who had the law all on his side; and whom hiscounsel would be sure to bring through victoriously; and taking inhand the course of the defendant, who had no money to pay her counsel, no law on her side, and who was bound to be defeated. 

"But she has justice and mercy on her side; and it shall go hard but Iprove the law on her side, too. "

"A forlorn hope, Ishmael, a forlorn hope!" said Mr. Middleton. 

"Forlorn hopes are always led by heroes, papa, " said Bee. 

"And fools!" blurted out Judge Merlin. 

Ishmael did not take offense, he knew all that was said was wellmeant; the judge talked to him with the plainness of a parent; andIshmael rather enjoyed being affectionately blown up by Claudia'sfather. 

Miss Merlin now looked up, and condescended to say:

"I am very sorry, Ishmael, that you refused the rich client; he mighthave been the making of you. "

"The making of Ishmael. With the blessing of Heaven, he will makehimself! I am very glad he refused the oppressor's gold!" exclaimedBee, before Ishmael could reply. 

When Bee ceased to speak, he said:

"I am very sorry, Miss Merlin, to oppose your sentiments in anyinstance, but in this I could not do otherwise. "

"It is simply a question of right or wrong. If the man's cause wasbad, Ishmael was right to refuse his brief; if the woman's cause wasgood, he was right to take her brief, " said Mrs. Middleton, as theyall arose from the table. 

That evening Ishmael found himself by chance alone in the drawing roomwith Bee. 

He was standing before the front window, gazing sadly into vacancy. The carriage, containing Miss Merlin, Lord Vincent, and Mrs. Middletonas chaperone, had just rolled away from the door. They were going to adinner party at the President's. And Ishmael was gazing sadly afterthem, when Bee came up to his side and spoke:

"I am very glad, Ishmael, that you have taken sides with the poormother; it was well done. "

"Thank you, dear Bee! I hope it was well done; I do not regret doingit; but they say that I have ruined my prospects. "

"Do not believe it, Ishmael. Have more faith in the triumph of rightagainst overwhelming odds. I like the lines you quoted--' Thrice is hearmed who feels his quarrel just!' The poets teach us a great deal, Ishmael. Only to-day I happened to be reading in Scott--in one of hisnovels, by the way, this was, however--of the deadly encounter in thelists between the Champion of the Wrong, the terrible knight Brian deBois Guilbert, and the Champion of Right, the gentle knight Ivanhoe. Do you remember, Ishmael, how Ivanhoe arose from his bed of illness, pale, feeble, reeling, scarcely able to bear the weight of his armor, or to sit his horse, much less encounter such a thunderbolt of war asBois Guilbert? There seemed not a hope in the world for Ivanhoe. Yet, in the first encounter of the knights, it was the terrible BoisGuilbert that rolled in the dust. Might is not right; but right ismight, Ishmael!"

"I know it, dear Bee; thank you, thank you, for making me feel italso!" said Ishmael fervently. 

"The alternative presented to you last night and this morning was sentas a trial, Ishmael; such a trial as I think every man must encounteronce in his life, as a decisive test of his spirit. Even our Saviourwas tempted, offered all the kingdoms of this world, and the glory ofthem, if he would fall down and worship Satan. But he rebuked thetempter and the Devil fled from him. "

"And angels came and ministered to him, " said Ishmael, in a voice ofineffable tenderness, as the tears filled his eyes and he approachedhis arm toward Bee. His impulse was to draw her to his bosom and pressa kiss on her brow--as a brother's embrace of a loved sister; butIshmael's nature was as refined and delicate as it was fervent andearnest; and he abstained from this caress; he said instead:

"You are my guardian angel, Bee. I have felt it long, little sister;you never fail in a crisis!"

"And while I live I never will, Ishmael. You will not need man's help, for you will help yourself, but what woman may do to aid and comfort, that will I do for you, my brother, "

"What a heavenly spirit is yours, Bee, " said Ishmael fervently. 

"And now let us talk of business, please, " said practical little Bee, who never indulged in sentiment long. "That poor mother! You give heryour services--gratuitously of course?"

"Certainly, " said Ishmael. 

"But, apart from her counsel's fee, will she not have other expensesto meet in conducting this suit?"

"Yes. "

"How will she meet them?"

"Bee, dear, I have saved a little money; I mean to use it in herservice. "

"What!" exclaimed the young girl; "do you mean to give her yourprofessional aid and pay all her expenses besides?"

"Yes, " said Ishmael, "as far as the money will go. I do this, dearBee, as a 'thank offering' to the Lord for all the success he hasgiven me, up to this time. When I think of the days of my childhood inthat poor Hill hut, and compare them to these days, I am deeplyimpressed by the mercy he has shown me; and I think that I can neverdo enough to show my gratitude. I consider it the right and properthing to offer the first fruits of my professional life to him, through his suffering children. "

"You are right, Ishmael, for God has blessed your earnest efforts, as, indeed, he would bless those of anyone so conscientious andpersevering as yourself. But, Ishmael, will you have money enough tocarry on the suit?"

"I hope so, Bee; I do not know. "

"Here, then, Ishmael, take this little roll of notes; it is a hundreddollars; use it for the woman, " she said, putting in his hand a smallparcel. 

Ishmael hesitated a moment; but Bee hastened to reassure him bysaying:

"You had as well take it as not, Ishmael. I can very well spare it, ortwice as much. Papa makes me a much larger allowance than one of mysimple tastes can spend. And I should like, " she added, smiling, "togo partners with you in this enterprise. "

"I thank you, dear Bee; and I will take your generous donation and useit, if necessary. It may not be necessary, " said Ishmael. 

"And now I must leave you, Ishmael, and go to little Lu; she is notwell this evening. " And the little Madonna-like maiden glided like aspirit from the room. 

The next morning Ishmael went to see his client. He showed her theabsolute necessity of submission to the writ of habeas corpus; hepromised to use his utmost skill in her case; urged her to trust theresult with her Heavenly Father; and encouraged her to hope forsuccess. 

She followed Ishmael's advice; she promised to obey the order, adding:

"It will be on Wednesday in Easter week. That will be fortunate, asthe school will have a holiday, and I shall be able to attend withoutneglecting the work that brings us bread. "

"Are the children far away? Can you get them without inconvenience inso short a time?" inquired Ishmael. 

"Oh, yes; they are in the country, with a good honest couple namedGray, who were here on the Christmas holidays, and boarded with myaunt, who keeps the Farmer's Rest, near the Center Market. My auntrecommended them to me, and when I saw the man I felt as if I couldhave trusted uncounted gold with him--he looked so true! He and hiswife took my three little girls home with them, and would not take acent of pay; and they have kept my secret religiously. "

"They have indeed!" said Ishmael, in astonishment; "for they are mynear relatives and never even told me. "

CHAPTER LVI. 

TRIAL AND TRIUMPH. 

 Let circumstance oppose him, He bends it to his will; And if the flood o'erflows him, He dives and steins it still; No hindering dull material Shall conquer or control His energies ethereal, His gladiator soul! Let lower spirits linger, For hint and beck and nod, He always sees the finger Of an onward urging God!

 --_M. F. Tupper_. 

Like most zealous, young professional men, Ishmael did a great deal morework for his first client than either custom or duty exacted of him. 

Authorized by her, he wrote to Reuben Gray to bring the children to thecity. 

And accordingly, in three days after, Reuben arrived at the Farmer'sRest, with his wagon full of family. For he not only brought the threelittle girls he was required to bring, but also Hannah, her children, and her nurse-maid Sally. 

As soon as he had seen his party in comfortable quarters he walked up tothe Washington House to report himself to Ishmael; for, somehow orother, Reuben had grown to look upon Ishmael as his superior officer inthe battle of life, and did him honor, very much as the veteran sergeantdoes to the young captain of his company. 

Arrived in Ishmael's room, he took off his hat and said:

"Here I am, sir; and I've brung 'em all along. "

"All Mrs. Walsh's little girls, of course, for they are required, " saidIshmael, shaking hands with Gray. 

"Yes, and all the rest on 'em, Hannah and the little uns, and Sally andSam, " said Reuben, rubbing his hands gleefully. 

"But that was a great task!" said Ishmael, in surprise. 

"Well, no, it wasn't, sir; not half so hard a task as it would have beento a left them all behind, poor things. You see, sir, the reason why Ibrung 'em all along was because I sort o' think they love me a deal;'pon my soul I do, sir, old and gray and rugged as I am; and I don'tlike to be parted from 'em, 'specially from Hannah, no, not for a day;'cause the dear knows, sir, as we was parted long enough, poor Hannahand me; and now as we is married, and the Lord has donated us a son anddaughter at the eleventh hour, unexpected, praise be unto him for allhis mercies, I never mean to part with any on 'em no more, not even fora day, till death do us part, amen; but take 'em all 'long with me, wherever I'm called to go, 'specially as me and poor Hannah was marriedso late in life that we aint got many more years before us to betogether. "

"Nonsense, Uncle Reuben! You and Aunt Hannah will live forty or fiftyyears longer yet, and see your grandchildren, and maybe yourgreat-grandchildren. You two are the stuff that centenarians are madeof, " exclaimed the young man cheeringly. 

"Centenarians? what's them, sir?"

"People who live a hundred years. "

"Law! Well, I have hearn of such things happening to other folks, andwhy not to me and poor Hannah? Why, sir, I would be the happiest man inthe world, if I thought as how I had all them there years to live longo' Hannah and the little uns in this pleasant world. But his will bedone!" said Gray, reverently raising his hat. 

"The little girls are all right, I hope?" inquired Ishmael. 

"Yes, sir; all on 'em, and a deal fatter and rosier and healthier northey was when I fust took 'em down. Perty little darlings! Didn't theyenjoy being in the country, neither, though it was the depth of wintertime? Law, Ish--sir, I mean--it's a mortal sin ag'in natur' to keepchil'en in town if it can be helped! But their ma, poor thing, couldn'thelp it, I know. Law, Ish--sir, I mean--if you had seen her that sameChristmas Day, as she ran in with her chil'en to her aunt as is hostessat the Farmer's. If ever you see a poor little white bantam trying tocover her chicks when the hawk was hovering nigh by, you may have someidea of the way she looked when she was trying to hide her chil'un anddidn't know where; 'cause she daren't keep 'em at home and daren't hide'em at her aunt's, for her home would be the first place inwaded and heraunt's the second. They was all so flustered, they took no more noticeo' me standin' in the parlor 'n if I had been a pillar-post, 'tillfeeling of pityful towards the poor things, I made so bold to go forwardand offer to take 'em home 'long o' me, and which was accepted withthanks and tears as soon as the landlady recommended me as an oldacquaintance and well-beknown to herself. So it was settled. That nightwhen you come to spend the evening with us, Ish--sir, I mean--I reallydid feel guilty in having of a secret as I wouldn't tell you; but yousee, sir, I was bound up to secrecy, and besides I thought as you wasstopping in Washington City, if you knowed anythink about it you mightbe speened afore the court and be obliged to tell all, you know. "

"You did quite right, Uncle Reuben, " said Ishmael affectionately. 

"You call me Uncle Reuben, sir?"

"Why not, Uncle Reuben? and why do you call me sir?"

"Well--sir, because you are a gentleman now--not but what you allers wasa gentleman by natur'; but now you are one by profession. They say youhave come to be a lawyer in the court, sir, and can stand up and pleadbefore the judges theirselves. "

"I have been admitted to the bar, Uncle Reuben. "

"Yes, that's what they call it; see there now, you know, I'm only a poorignorant man, and you have no call to own the like o' me for uncle, 'cause, come to the rights of it, I aint your uncle at all, sir, thoughyour friend and well-wisher allers; and to claim the likes o' me as anuncle might do you a mischief with them as thinks riches and family andoutside show and book-larning is everythink. So Ish--sir, I mean, Iwon't take no offense, nor likewise feel hurted, if you leaves oftcalling of me uncle and calls me plain 'Gray, ' like Judge Merlin does. "

"Uncle Reuben, " said Ishmael, with feeling, "I am very anxious toadvance myself in the world, very ambitious of distinction; but if Ithought worldly success would or could estrange me from the friends ofmy boyhood, I would cease to wish for it. If I must cease to be true, inorder to be great, I prefer to remain in obscurity. Give me your hand, Uncle Reuben, and call me Ishmael, and know me for your boy. "

"There, then, Ishmael! I'm glad to find you again! God bless my boy! Butlaw! what's the use o' my axing of him to do that? He'll do it anyways, without my axing!" said Reuben, pressing the hand of Ishmael. "And now, "he added, "will you be round to the Farmer's this evening to see Hannahand the young uns?"

"Yes, Uncle Reuben; but first I must go and let Mrs. Walsh know that youhave brought her little girls back. I suppose she will think it best toleave them with her aunt until the day of trial. "

"It will be the safest place for 'em! for besides the old lady beingspunky, I shall be there to protect 'em; for I mean to stay till thatsame said trial and hear you make your fust speech afore the judge, andsee that woman righted afore ever I goes back home again, ef it costs mefifty dollars. "

"I'm afraid you will find it very expensive, Uncle Reuben. "

"No, I won't, sir--Ishmael, I mean; because, you see, I fotch up a loto' spring chickens and eggs and early vegetables, and the profits Ishall get offen them will pay my expenses here at the very least, " saidReuben, as he arose and stood waiting with hat in hand for Ishmael'smotions. 

Ishmael got up and took his own hat and gloves. 

"Be you going round to see the schoolmist'ess now, sir--Ishmael, Imean?"

"Yes, Uncle Reuben. "

"Well, I think I'd like to walk round with you, if you don't mind. Ikind o' want to see the little woman, and I kind o' don't want to partwith you just yet, sir--Ishmael, I mean. "

"Come along, then, Uncle Reuben; she will be delighted to see herchildren's kind protector, and I shall enjoy your company on the way. "

"And then, sir--Ishmael, I mean--when we have seen her, you will go backwith me to the Farmer's and see Hannah and the little uns and spend theevening long of us?"

"Yes, Uncle Reuben; and I fancy Mrs. Walsh will go with us. "

"Sartain, sure, so she will, sir--Ishmael, I mean. "

It was too late to find her at the schoolhouse, as it would be sure tobe closed at this hour. So they walked directly to the little suburbancottage where she lived with one faithful old negro servant, who hadbeen her nurse, and with her cow and pig and poultry and her pet dog andcat. They made her heart glad with the news of the children's arrival, and they waited until, with fingers that trembled almost too much to dothe work, she put on her bonnet and mantle to accompany them to theFarmer's. 

The meeting between the mother and children was very affecting. Sheinformed them that, this being Holy Thursday evening, she had dismissedthe school for the Easter holidays, and so could be with them all thetime until she should take them into court on Wednesday of the ensuingweek. 

Then in family council it was arranged that both herself and thechildren should remain at the Farmer's until the day of the trial. 

As soon as all this matter was satisfactorily settled Ishmael arose andbid them all good-night, promising to repeat his visit often while hisrelatives remained at the hotel. 

It was late when Ishmael reached home, but the drawing-room was ablazewith light, and as he passed its open door he saw that its onlyoccupants were the Viscount Vincent and Claudia Merlin. They weretogether on the sofa, talking in low, confidential tones. How beautifulshe looked! smiling up to the handsome face that was bent in deferentialadmiration over hers. A pang of love and jealousy wrung Ishmael's heartas he hurried past and ran up the stairs to his den. There he sat downat his desk, and, bidding vain dreams begone, concentrated his thoughtsupon the work before him--the first speech he was to make at the bar. 

Ishmael worked very hard the day preceding the trial; he took greatpains getting up his case, not only for his own sake, but for the sakeof that poor mother and her children in whom he felt so deeplyinterested. 

No farther allusion was made to the affair by any member of JudgeMerlin's family until Wednesday morning, when, as they all sat aroundthe breakfast table, the judge said:

"Well, Ishmael, the case of Walsh versus Walsh comes on to-day, I hear. How do you feel? a little nervous over your first case, eh?"

"Not yet; I feel only great confidence in the justice of my cause, as anearnest of success. "

"The justice of his cause! Poor fellow, how much he has to learn yet!Why, Ishmael, how many times have you seen justice overthrown by law?"

"Too many times, sir; but there is no earthly reason why that shouldhappen in this case. "

"Have you got your maiden speech all cut and dried and ready todeliver?"

"I have made some notes; but for the rest I shall trust to theinspiration of the instant. "

"Bad plan that. 'Spose the inspiration don't come? or 'spose you loseyour presence of mind? Better have your speech carefully written off, and then, inspiration or no inspiration, you will be able to read, atleast. "

"My notes are very carefully arranged; they contain the whole argument. "

"And for the rest 'it shall be given ye in that hour, what ye shallspeak, '" said Beatrice earnestly. 

They all arose and left the table. 

"Thank you, dearest Bee, " said Ishmael, as he passed her. 

"God aid you, Ishmael!" she replied fervently. 

He hurried upstairs to collect his documents, and then hastened to theCity Hall, where Mrs. Walsh and her children were to meet him. 

He found them all in the ante-chamber of the courtroom, attended by abodyguard composed of Reuben, Hannah, and the landlady. 

He spoke a few encouraging words to his client, shook hands with themembers of her party, and then took them all into the courtroom andshowed them their places. The plaintiff was not present. The judges hadnot yet taken their seats. And the courtroom was occupied only by a fewlawyers, clerks, bailiffs, constables, and other officials. 

In a few minutes, however, the judges entered and took their seats; thecrier opened the court, the crowd poured in, the plaintiff with hiscounsel made his appearance, and the business of the day commenced. 

I shall not give all the details of this trial; I shall only glance at afew of them. 

The courtroom was full, but not crowded; nothing short of a murder or adivorce case ever draws a crowd to such a place. 

The counsel for the plaintiff was composed of three of the oldest, ablest, and most experienced members of the Washington bar. The first ofthese, Mr. Wiseman, was distinguished for his profound knowledge of thelaw, his skill in logic, and his closeness in reasoning; the second, Mr. Berners, was celebrated for his fire and eloquence; and the third, Mr. Vivian, was famous for his wit and sarcasm. Engaged on one side, theywere considered invincible. To these three giants, with the law on theirside, was opposed young Ishmael, with nothing but justice on his side. Bad look-out for justice! Well, so it was in that great encounteralready alluded to between Brian and Ivanhoe. 

Mr. Wiseman, for the plaintiff, opened the case. He was a great, big, bald-headed man, who laid down the law as a blacksmith hammers an anvil, in a clear, forcible, resounding manner, leaving the defense--aseverybody declared--not a leg to stand upon. 

"Oh, Mr. Worth! it is all over with me, and I shall die!" whispered Mrs. Walsh, in deadly terror. 

"Have patience! his speech does not impress the court as it doesyou--they are used to him. "

Witnesses were called, to prove as well as they could from a bad set offacts, what an excellent husband and father the plaintiff had been; howaffectionate, how anxious, how zealous he was for the happiness of hiswife and children--leaving it to be inferred that nothing on earth buther own evil tendencies instigated the wife to withdraw herself andchildren from his protection!

"Heaven and earth, Mr. Worth, did you ever hear anything like that? Theymanage to tell the literal truth, but so pervert it that it is worsethan the worse falsehood!" exclaimed Mrs. Walsh, in a low but indignanttone. 

"Aye, " answered Ishmael, who sat, pencil and tablets in hand, takingnotes; "aye! 'a lie that is half a truth is ever the blackest of lies. 'But the court is accustomed to such witnesses; they do not receive somuch credit as you or they think. "

Ishmael did not cross-examine these witnesses; the great mass ofrebutting testimony that he could bring forward, he knew, must overwhelmthem. So when the last witness for the plaintiff had been examined, hewhispered a few cheering words to the trembling woman by his side, androse for the defendant. Now, whenever a new barrister takes the floorfor the first time, there is always more or less curiosity and commotionamong the old fogies of the forum. 

What will he turn out to be? that is the question. All eyes were turnedtowards him. 

They saw a tall, broad-shouldered, full-chested young man, who stood, with a certain dignity, looking upon the notes that he held in his hand;and when he lifted his stately head to address the court they saw thathis face was not only beautiful in the noble mold of the features, butalmost divine from the inspiring soul within. 

Among the eyes that gazed upon him were those of the three giants of thelaw whom he had now to oppose. They stared at him mercilessly--no doubtwith the intention of staring him down. But they did not even confusehim; for the simple reason that he did not look towards them. They mightstare themselves stone blind, but they would have no magnetic influenceupon that strong, concentrated, earnest soul!

Ishmael was not in the least embarrassed in standing up to address thecourt for the first time, simply because he was not thinking of himselfor his audience, but of his client, and her case as he wished to set itforth; and he was not looking at the spectators, but alternately at thecourt and at the notes in his hand. 

He did not make a long opening like the Giant Wiseman had done; for hewished to reserve himself for the closing speech in final reply to theothers. He just made a plain statement of his client's case as it is inpart known to the reader. 

He told the court how, at the age of fifteen, she had been decoyed fromher mother's house and married by the plaintiff, a man more than twiceher age; how when she had come into her property he had squandered itall by a method that he, the plaintiff, called speculation, but thatothers called gambling; how he had then left her in poverty andembarrassment and with one child to support; how he remained away twoyears, during which time her friends had set his wife up in business ina little fancy store. She was prospering when he came back, took up hisabode with her, got into debt which he could not pay, and when all herstock and furniture was seized to satisfy his creditors, he took himselfoff once more, leaving her with two children. She was worse off thanbefore; her friends grumbled, but once more came to her assistance, sether up a little book and news agency, the stock of which was nearly allpurchased on credit, and told her plainly that if she permitted herhusband to come and break up her business again they would abandon andleave her to her fate. Notwithstanding this warning, when at the end ofseven or eight months he came back again she received him again. Hestayed with her thirteen months; and suddenly disappeared withoutbidding her good-by, leaving her within a few weeks of becoming themother of a third child. A few days after his disappearance anotherexecution was put into the house to satisfy a debt contracted by him, and everything was sold under the hammer. She was reduced to the lastdegree of poverty; her friends held themselves aloof, disgusted at whatthey termed her culpable weakness; she and her children suffered fromcold and hunger; and during her subsequent illness she and they musthave starved and frozen but for the public charities, that would not letanyone in our midst perish from want of necessary food and fuel. Whenshe recovered from her illness, one relative, a widow now present incourt, had from her own narrow means supplied the money to rent andfurnish a small schoolroom, and this most hapless of women was once moreput in a way to earn daily bread for herself and children. Nine yearspassed, during which she enjoyed a respite from the persecutions of theplaintiff. In these nine years, by strict attention to business, untiring industry, she not only paid off the debt owed to her agedrelative, but she bought a little cottage and garden in a cheap suburb, and furnished the house and stocked the garden. She was now living alaborious but contented life and rearing her children in comfort. Butnow at the end of nine years comes back the plaintiff. Her husband? No, her enemy! for he comes, not as he pretends, to cherish and protect; butas he ever came before, to lay waste and destroy! How long could it besupposed that the mother would be able to keep the roof over the headsof her children if the plaintiff were permitted to enter beneath it? ifthe court did not protect her home against his invasion, he would againbring ruin and desolation within its walls. They would prove bycompetent witnesses every point in this statement of the defendant'scase; and then he would demand for his client, not only that she shouldbe secured in the undisturbed possession of her children, her property, and her earnings, but that the plaintiff should be required tocontribute an annual sum of money to the support of the defendant andher children, and to give security for its payment. 

"That's 'carrying the war into Africa' with a vengeance, " whisperedWalsh to his counsel, as Ishmael concluded his address. 

He then called the witnesses for the defendant. They were numerous andof the highest respectability. Among them was the pastor of her parish, her family physician, and many of the patrons of her school. 

They testified to the facts stated by her attorney. 

The three giants did their duty in the cross-examining line of business. Wiseman cross-examined in a stern manner; Berners in an insinuating way;and Vivian in a sarcastic style; but the only effect of their forensicskill was to bring out the truth from the witnesses--more clearly, strongly, and impressively. 

When the last witness for the defendant had been permitted to leave thestand Wiseman arose to address the court on behalf of the plaintiff. Hespoke in his own peculiar sledge-hammer style, sonorously striking theanvil and ringing all the changes upon law, custom, precedent, and soforth that always gave the children into the custody of the father. Andhe ended by demanding that the children be at once delivered over to hisclient. 

He was followed by Berners, who had charge of the eloquence "business"of that stage, and dealt in pathos, tears, white pocket handkerchiefs, and poetical quotations. He drew a most heart-rending picture of thebroken-spirited husband and father, rejected by an unforgiving wife andill-conditioned children, becoming a friendless and houseless wandererover the wide world; in danger of being driven, by despair, to madnessand suicide! He compared the plaintiff to Byron, whose poetry heliberally quoted. And he concluded by imploring the court, with tearsin his eyes, to intervene and save his unhappy client from the gulf ofperdition to which his implacable wife would drive him. And he sank downin his seat utterly overwhelmed by his feelings and holding a drift ofwhite cambric to his face. 

"Am I such an out-and-out monster, Mr. Worth?" whispered Mrs. Walsh, indismay. 

Ishmael smiled. 

"Everybody knows Berners--his 'madness' and 'suicide, ' his 'gulf ofperdition' and his white cambric pocket-handkerchief are recognizedinstitutions. See! the judge is actually smiling over it. "

Mr. Vivian arose to follow--he did up the genteel comedy; he kept onhand a supply of "little jokes" gleaned from Joe Miller, current comicliterature, dinner tables, clubs, etc. --"little jokes" of which everypoint in his discourse continually reminded him, though his hearerscould not always perceive the association of ideas. This gentleman wasvery facetious over family jars, which reminded him of a "little joke, "which he told; he was also very witty upon the subject of matrimonialdisputes in particular, which reminded him of another "little joke, "which he also told; but most of all, he was amused at the caprice ofwomankind, who very often rather liked to be compelled to do as theypleased, which reminded him of a third "little joke. " And if the courtshould allow the defendant the exclusive possession of her children anda separate maintenance, it was highly probable that she would not thankthem for their trouble, but would take the first opportunity ofvoluntarily reconciling herself to her husband and giving him backherself, her home, and her children, which would be equal to any "littlejoke" he had ever heard in his life, etc. , etc. , etc. 

The audience were all in a broad grin. Even Mrs. Walsh, with her lips of"life-long sadness, " smiled. 

"You may smile at him, " said Ishmael, "and so will I, since I do not atall doubt the issue of this trial; but for all that, joker as he is, heis the most serious opponent that we have. I would rather encounter halfa dozen each of Wisemans and Berners than one Vivian. Take human naturein general, it can be more easily laughed than reasoned or persuaded inor out of any measure. People would rather laugh than weep or reflect. Wiseman tries to make them reflect, which they won't do; Berners triesto make them weep, which they can't do; but Vivian with his jokes makesthem laugh, which they like to do. And so, he has joked himself into avery large practice at the Washington bar. "

But the facetious barrister was bringing his speech to a close, with abrilliant little joke that eclipsed all the preceding ones and set theaudience in a roar. And when the laughter had subsided, he finally endedby expressing a hope that the court would not so seriously disappointand so cruelly wrong the defendant as by giving a decision in her favor. 

CHAPTER LVII. 

THE YOUNG CHAMPION. 

 Then uprose Gismond; and she knew That she was saved. _Some_ never met His face before; but at first view They felt quite sure that God had set Himself to Satan; who could spend A minute's mistrust on the end?

 This pleased her most, that she enjoyed The heart of her joy, with her content In watching Gismond, unalloyed By any doubt of the event; God took that on him--she was bid Watch Gismond for her part! She did. 

 --_Browning_. 

Ishmael waited a few minutes for the excitement produced by the lastaddress to subside--the last address that in its qualities and effectshad resembled champagne--sparkling but transient, effervescent butevanescent. And when order had been restored Ishmael arose amid aprofound silence to make his maiden speech, for the few opening remarkshe had made in initiating the defense could scarcely be called a speech. Once more then all eyes were fixed upon him in expectancy. And, asbefore, he was undisturbed by these regards because he was unconsciousof them; and he was calm because he was not thinking of himself or ofthe figure he was making, but of his client and her cause. He did notcare to impress the crowd, he only wished to affect the court. So littledid he think of the spectators in the room, that he did not observe thatJudge Merlin, Claudia, and Beatrice were among them, seated in adistant corner--Judge Merlin and Claudia were watching him withcuriosity, and Bee with the most affectionate anxiety. His attention wasconfined to the judges, the counsel, his client, and the memoranda inhis hand. He had a strong confidence in the justice of his cause;perfect faith in the providence of God; and sanguine hopes of success. 

True, he had arrayed against him an almost overpowering force: thehusband of his client, and the three great guns of the bar--Wiseman, Berners, and Vivian, with law, custom, and precedent. But with him stoodthe angels of Justice and Mercy, invisible, but mighty; and, over all, the Omnipotent God, unseen, but all-seeing!

Ishmael possessed the minor advantages of youth, manly beauty, acommanding presence, a gracious smile, and a sweet, deep, sonorousvoice. He was besides a new orator among them, with a fresh originalstyle. 

He was no paid attorney; it was not his pocket that was interested, buthis sympathies; his whole heart and soul were in the cause that he hadembraced, and he brought to bear upon it all the genius of his powerfulmind. 

I would like to give you the whole of this great speech that woke up theWashington court from its state of semi-somnolency and roused it to thesense of the unjust and cruel things it sometimes did when talking inits sleep. But I have only time and space to glance at some of itspoints; and if anyone wishes to see more of it, it may be found in thepublished works of the great jurist and orator. 

He began to speak with modest confidence and in clear, concise, andearnest terms. He said that the court had heard from the learned counselthat had preceded him a great deal of law, sentiment, and wit. From himthey should now hear of justice, mercy, and truth!

He reverted to the story of the woman's wrongs, sufferings, andstruggles, continued through many years; he spoke of her love, patience, and forbearance under the severest trials; he dwelt upon theprolonged absence of her husband, prolonged through so many wearyyears, and the false position of the forsaken wife, a position so muchworse than widowhood, inasmuch as it exposed her not only to all theevils of poverty, but to suspicion, calumny, and insult. But he badethem note how the woman had passed through the fire unharmed; how shehad fought the battle of life bravely and come out victoriously; howshe had labored on in honorable industry for years, until she hadsecured a home for herself and little girls. He spoke plainly of thearrival of the fugitive husband as the coming of the destroyer who hadthree times before laid waste her home; he described the terror anddistress his very presence in the city had brought to that littlehome; the flight of the mother with her children, and her agony ofanxiety to conceal them; he dwelt upon the cruel position of the womanwhose natural protector has become her natural enemy; he reminded thecourt that it had required the mother to take her trembling littleones from their places of safety and concealment and to bring themforward; and now that they were here he felt a perfect confidence thatthe court would extend the ægis of its authority over these helplessones, since that would be the only shield they could have underheaven. He spoke noble words in behalf not only of his client, but ofwoman--woman, loving, feeble, and oppressed from the beginning oftime--woman, hardly dealt with by nature in the first place, and bythe laws, made by her natural lover and protector, man, in the secondplace. Perhaps it was because he knew himself to be the son of a womanonly, even as his Master had been before him, that he poured so muchof awakening, convicting, and condemning fire, force, and weight intothis part of his discourse. He uttered thoughts and feelings upon thissubject, original and startling at that time, but which have sincebeen quoted, both in the Old and New World, and have had power tomodify those cruel laws which at that period made woman, despite herunderstanding intellect, an idiot, and despite her loving heart achattel--in the law. 

It had been the time-honored prerogative and the invariable custom ofthe learned judges of this court to go to sleep during the pleadings ofthe lawyers; but upon this occasion they did not indulge in an afternoonnap, I assure you!

He next reviewed the testimony of the witnesses of the plaintiff;complimented them on the ingenuity they had displayed in making "theworst appear the better cause, " by telling half the truth and ignoringthe other half; but warned the court at the same time

 "That a lie which is half a truth, is ever the blackest of lies, That a lie which is all a lie may be met and fought with outright; But a lie which is part a truth, is a harder matter to fight. "

Then he reviewed in turn the speeches of the counsel for theplaintiff--first that of Wiseman, the ponderous law-expounder, whichhe answered with quite as much law and a great deal more equity;secondly, that of Berners, the tear-pumper, the false sentiment ofwhich he exposed and criticised; and thirdly that of Vivian, thelaugh-provoker, with which he dealt the most severely of all, sayingthat one who could turn into jest the most sacred affections and mostserious troubles of domestic life, the heart's tragedy, the householdwreck before them, could be capable of telling funny stories at hisfather's funeral, uttering good jokes over his mother's coffin. 

He spoke for two hours, warming, glowing, rising with his subject, untilhis very form seemed to dilate in grandeur, and his face grew radiant asthe face of an archangel; and those who heard seemed to think that hislips like those of the prophet of old had been touched with fire fromheaven. Under the inspiration of the hour, he spoke truths new andstartling then, but which have since resounded through the senatechambers of the world, changing the laws of the nations in regard towoman. 

Nora, do you see your son? Oh, was it not well worth while to haveloved, suffered, and died, only to have given him to the world!

It was a complete success. All his long, patient, painful years ofstruggle were rewarded now. It was one splendid leap from obscurity tofame. 

The giants attempted to answer him, but it was of no use. After thefreshness, the fire, the force, the heart, soul, and life in Ishmael'sutterances, their old, familiar, well-worn styles, in which the samearguments, pathos, wit that had done duty in so many other cases wasparaded again, only bored their hearers. In vain Wiseman appealed toreason; Berners to feeling; and Vivian to humor; they would not do: thecourt had often heard all that before, and grown heartily tired of it. Wiseman's wisdom was found to be foolishness; Berner's pathos laughable;and Vivian's humor grievous. 

The triumvirate of the Washington bar were dethroned, and Prince Ishmaelreigned in their stead. 

A few hours later the decision of the court was made known. It hadgranted all that the young advocate had asked for his client--theexclusive possession of her children, her property, and her earnings, and also alimony from her husband. 

As Ishmael passed out of the court amid the tearful thanks of themother and her children, and the proud congratulations of honest Reubenand Hannah, he neared the group composed of Judge Merlin, Claudia, andBeatrice. 

Judge Merlin looked smiling and congratulatory; he shook hands withyoung barrister, saying:

"Well, Ishmael, you have rather waked up the world to-day, haven't you?"

Bee looked perfectly radiant with joy. Her fingers closed spasmodicallyon the hand that Ishmael offered her, and she exclaimed a littleincoherently:

"Oh, Ishmael, I always knew you could! I am so happy!"

"Thank you, dearest Bee! Under Divine Providence I owe a great deal ofmy success to-day to your sympathy. "

Claudia did not speak; she was deadly pale and cold; her face was likemarble and her hand like ice, as she gave it to Ishmael. She had alwaysappreciated and loved him against her will; but now, in this hour of histriumph, when he had discovered to the world his real power and worth, her love rose to an anguish of longing that she knew her pride mustforever deny; and so when Ishmael took her hand and looked in her facefor the words of sympathy that his heart was hungering to receive fromher of all the world, she could not speak. 

Ishmael passed out with his friends. When he had gone, a stranger whohad been watching him with the deepest interest during the whole courseof the trial, now came forward, and, with an agitation impossible toconceal, hastily inquired:

"Judge Merlin, for Heaven's sake! who is that young man?"

"Eh! what! Brudenell, you here! When did you arrive?"

"This morning! But for the love of Heaven who is that young man?"

"Who? why the most talented young barrister of the day--a future chiefjustice, attorney-general, President of the United States, for aught Iknow! It looks like it, for whatever may be the aspirations of the boy, his intellect and will are sure to realize them!"

"Yes, but who is he? what is his name? who were his parents? where washe born?" demanded Herman Brudenell excitedly. 

"Why, the Lord bless my soul alive, man! He is a self-made barrister;his name is Ishmael Worth; his mother was a poor weaver girl named NoraWorth; his father was an unknown scoundrel; he was born at a little hutnear--Why, Brudenell, you ought to know all about it--near BrudenellHall!"

"Heaven and earth!"

"What is the matter?"

"The close room--the crowd--and this oppression of the chest that I havehad so many years!" gasped Herman Brudenell. 

"Get into my carriage and come home with us. Come--I will take nodenial! The hotels are overcrowded. We can send for your luggage. Come!"

"Thank you; I think I will. "

"Claudia! Beatrice! come forward, my dears. Here is Mr. Brudenell. "

Courtesies were exchanged, and they all went out and entered thecarriage. 

"I will introduce you to this young man, who has so much interested you, and all the world, in fact, I suppose. He is living with us; and he willbe a lion from to-day, I assure you, " said the judge, as soon as theywere all seated. 

"Thank you! I was interested in--in those two poor sisters. Onedied--what has become of the other?"

"She married my overseer, Gray; they are doing well. They are in thecity on a visit at present, stopping at the Farmer's, opposite CenterMarket. "

"Who educated this young man?"

"Himself. "

"Did this unknown father make no provision for him?"

"None--the rascal! The boy was as poor as poverty could make him; but heworked for his own living from the time he was seven years old. "

Herman had feared as much, for he doubted the check he had written andleft for Hannah had ever been presented and cashed, for in the balancingof his bankbook he never saw it among the others. 

Meanwhile Ishmael had parted with his friends and gone home to theWashington House. He knew that he had had a glorious success; but hetook no vain credit to himself; he was only happy that his service hadbeen a free offering to a good cause; and very thankful that it had beencrowned with victory. And when he reached home he went up to his littlechamber, knelt down in humble gratitude, and rendered all the glory toGod!

CHAPTER LVIII. 

HERMAN BRUDENELL

 My son! I seem to breathe that word, In utterance more clear Than other words, more slowly round I move my lips, to keep the sound Still lingering in my ear. 

 For were my lonely life allowed To claim that gifted son, I should be met by straining eyes, Welcoming tears and grateful sighs To hallow my return. 

 But between me and that dear son There lies a bar, I feel, More hard to pass, more girt with awe, Than any power of injured law, Or front of bristling steel. 

 --_Milnes_. 

When the carriage containing Judge Merlin, Claudia, Beatrice, and Mr. Brudenell reached the Washington House the party separated in the hall;the ladies went each to her own chamber to dress for dinner, and JudgeMerlin called a servant to show Mr. Brudenell to a spare room, and thenwent to his own apartment. 

When Herman Brudenell had dismissed his attendant and found himselfalone he sat down in deep thought. 

Since the death of Nora he had been a wanderer over the face of theearth. The revenues of his estate had been mostly paid over to hismother for the benefit of herself and her daughters, yet had scarcelybeen sufficient for the pride, vanity, and extravagance of those foolishwomen, who, living in Paris and introduced into court circles by theAmerican minister, aped the style of the wealthiest among the Frencharistocracy, and indulged in the most expensive establishment, equipage, retinue, dress, jewelry, balls, etc. , in the hope of securing alliancesamong the old nobility of France. 

They might as well have gambled for thrones. The princes, dukes, marquises, and counts drank their wines, ate their dinners, danced attheir balls, kissed their hands, and--laughed at them!

The reason was this: the Misses Brudenell, though well-born, pretty, and accomplished, were not wealthy, and were even suspected of beingheavily in debt, because of all this show. 

And I would here inform my ambitious American readers who go abroad insearch of titled husbands whom they cannot find at home, that what isgoing on in Paris then is going on in all the Old World capitals now;and that now, when foreign noblemen marry American girls, it is becausethe former want money and the latter have it. If there is any exceptionto this rule, I, for one, never heard of it. 

And so the Misses Brudenell, failing to marry into the nobility, werenot married at all. 

The expenditures of the mother and daughters in this speculation wereenormous, so much so that at length Herman Brudenell, reckless as hewas, became alarmed at finding himself on the very verge of insolvency!

He had signed so many blank checks, which his mother and sisters hadfilled up with figures so much higher than he had reckoned upon, that atlast his Paris bankers had written to him informing him that his accounthad been so long and so much overdrawn that they had been obliged todecline cashing his last checks. 

It was this that had startled Herman Brudenell out of his lethargy andgoaded him to look into his affairs. After examining his account withhis Paris banker with very unsatisfactory results, he determined toretrench his own personal expenses, to arrange his estates upon the mostproductive plan, and to let out Brudenell Hall. 

He wrote to the Countess of Hurstmonceux, requesting her to vacate thepremises, and to his land-agent instructing him to let the estate. 

In due course of time he received answers to both his letters. That ofthe countess we have already seen; that of the land-agent informing himof the vast improvement of the estate during the residence of theCountess of Hurstmonceux upon it, and of the accumulation of itsrevenues, and finally of the large sum placed to his credit in the localbank by her ladyship. 

This sum, of course, every sentiment of honor forbade Herman Brudenellfrom appropriating. He therefore caused it to be withdrawn and depositedwith Lady Hurstmonceux's London bankers. 

Soon after this he received notice that Brudenell Hall, stocked andfurnished as it was, had been let to Mr. Middleton. 

The accumulated revenues of the estate he devoted to paying his mother'sdebts, and the current revenues to her support, warning her at the sametime of impending embarrassments unless her expenses were retrenched. 

But the warning was unheeded, and the folly and extravagance of hismother and sisters were unabated. Like all other desperate gamblers, theheavier their losses the greater became their stakes; they went onliving in the best hotels, keeping the most expensive servants, drivingthe purest blooded horses, wearing the richest dresses and the rarestjewels, giving the grandest balls, and--to use a common but strongphrase--"going it with a rush!" All in the desperate hope of securingfor the young ladies wealthy husbands from among the titled aristocracy. 

At length came another crisis; and once more Herman Brudenell wascompelled to intervene between them and ruin. This he did at a vastsacrifice of property. 

He wrote and gave Mr. Middleton warning to leave Brudenell Hall at theend of the year, because, he said, that he himself wished to returnthither. 

He did return thither; but it was only to sell off, gradually andprivately, all the stock on the home-farm, all the plate, richfurniture, rare pictures, statues, vases, and articles of virtu in thehouse, and all the old plantation negroes--ancient servants who hadlived for generations on the premises. 

While he was at this work he instituted cautious inquiries about "one ofthe tenants, Hannah Worth, the weaver, who lived at Hill hut, with hernephew"; and he learned that Hannah was prosperously married to ReubenGray and had left the neighborhood with her nephew, who had received agood education from Mr. Middleton's family school. Brudenellsubsequently received a letter from Mr. Middleton himself, recommendingto his favorable notice "a young man named Ishmael Worth, living on theBrudenell estates. "

But as the youth had left the neighborhood with his relatives, and asMr. Brudenell really hoped that he was well provided for by the largesum of money for which he had given Hannah a check on the day of hisdeparture, and as he was overwhelmed with business cares, and lastly, ashe dreaded rather than desired a meeting with his unknown son, hedeferred seeking him out. 

When Brudenell Hall was entirely dismantled, and all the furniture ofthe house, the stock of the farm, and the negroes of the plantation, andall the land except a few acres immediately around the house had beensold, and the purchase money realized, he returned to Paris, settled hismother's debts, and warning her that they had now barely sufficient tosupport them in moderate comfort, entreated her to return and livequietly at Brudenell Hall. 

But no! "If they were poor, so much the more reason why the girls shouldmarry rich, " argued Mrs. Brudenell; and instead of retrenching herexpenses, she merely changed the scene of her operations from Paris toLondon, forgetting the fact everyone else remembered, that her "girls, "though still handsome, because well preserved, were now mature women ofthirty-two and thirty-five. Herman promised to give them the wholeproceeds of his property, reserving to himself barely enough to live onin the most economical manner. And he let Brudenell Hall once more, andtook up his abode at a cheap watering-place on the continent, where heremained for years, passing his time in reading, fishing, boating, andother idle seaside pastimes, until he was startled from his repose by aletter from his mother--a letter full of anguish, telling him that heryounger daughter, Eleanor, had fled from home in company with a certainCaptain Dugald, and that she had traced them to Liverpool, whence theyhad sailed for New Tork, and entreated him to follow and if possiblesave his sister. 

Upon this miserable errand he had revisited his native country. He hadfound no such name as Dugald in any of the lists of passengers arrivedwithin the specified time by any of the ocean steamers from Liverpool toNew York, and no such name on any of the hotel books; so he left thematter in the hands of a skillful detective, and came down toWashington, in the hope of finding the fugitives here. 

On his first walk out he had been attracted by the crowd around the CityHall; had learned that an interesting trial was going on; and that somestrange, new lawyer was making a great speech. He had gone in, and onturning his eyes towards the young barrister had been thunderstruck onbeing confronted by what seemed to him the living face of Nora Worth, elevated to masculine grandeur. Those were Nora's lips, so beautiful inform, color, and expression; Nora's splendid eyes, that blazed withindignation, or melted with pity, or smiled with humor; Nora'smagnificent breadth of brow, spanning from temple to temple. He saw inthese remarkable features so much of the likeness of Nora, that hefailed to see, in the height of the forehead, the outline of theprofile, and the occasional expression of the countenance, the strikinglikeness of himself. 

He had been spellbound by this, and by the eloquence of the youngbarrister until the end of the speech, when he had hastened to JudgeMerlin and demanded the name and the history of the débutante. 

And the answer had confirmed the prophetic instincts of his heart--thisrising star of the forum was Nora's son!

Nora's son, born in the depths of poverty and shame; panting from thehour of his birth for the very breath of life; working from the days ofhis infancy for daily bread; striving from the years of his boyhood forknowledge; struggling by the most marvelous series of persevering effortout of the slough of infamy into which he had been cast, to his presentheight of honor! Scarcely twenty-one years old and already recognizednot only as the most gifted and promising young member of the bar, butas a rising power among the people. 

How proud he, the childless man, would be to own his share in Nora'sgifted son, if in doing so he could avoid digging up the old, cruelreproach, the old, forgotten scandal! How proud to hail Ishmael Worth asIshmael Brudenell!

But this he knew could never, never be. Every principle of honor, delicacy, and prudence forbade him now to interfere in the destiny ofNora's long-ignorant and neglected, but gifted and rising son. With whatface could he, the decayed, impoverished, almost forgotten master ofBrudenell Hall go to this brilliant young barrister, who had just made asplendid debut and achieved a dazzling success, and say to him:

"I am your father!"

And how should he explain such a relationship to the astonished youngman? At making the dreadful confession, he felt that he should be likelyto drop at the feet of his own son. 

No! Ishmael Worth must remain Ishmael Worth. If he fulfilled the promiseof his youth, it would not be his father's name, but his young mother'smaiden name which would become illustrious in his person. 

And yet, from the first moment of his seeing Ishmael and identifying himas Nora's son, he felt an irresistible desire to meet him face to face, to shake hands with him, to talk with him, to become acquainted withhim, to be friends with him. 

It was this longing that urged Mr. Brudenell to accept Judge Merlin'sinvitation and accompany the latter home. And now in a few moments thislonging would be gratified. 

In the midst of all other troubled thoughts one question perplexed him. It was this: What had become of the check he had given Hannah in thehour of his departure years ago?

That it had never been presented and cashed two circumstances led him tofear. The first was that he had never seen it among those returned tohim when his bankbook had been made up; and the second was that Hannahhad shared the bitter poverty of her nephew, and therefore could nothave received and appropriated the money to her own uses. 

As he had learned from the judge that Hannah was in Washington, heresolved to seek a private interview with her, and ascertain what hadbecome of the check, and why, with the large sum of money itrepresented, she had neglected to use it, and permitted herself and hernephew to suffer all the evils of the most abject poverty. 

CHAPTER LIX. 

FIRST MEETING OF FATHER AND SON. 

 Oh, Christ! that thus a son should stand Before a father's face. 

 --_Byron_. 

While Mr. Brudenell still ruminated over these affairs the seconddinner-bell rang, and almost at the same moment Judge Merlin rapped andentered the chamber, with old-fashioned hospitality, to show his guestthe way to the drawing room. 

"You feel better, I hope, Brudenell?" he inquired. 

"Yes, thank you, judge. "

"Come then. We will go down. We are a little behind time at best thisevening, upon account of our young friend's long-winded address. It wasa splendid affair, though. Worth waiting to hear, was it not?" proudlyinquired the judge as they descended the stairs. 

They entered the drawing room. 

It was a family party that was assembled there, with the sole exceptionof the Viscount Vincent, who indeed had become a daily visitor, arecognized suitor of Miss Merlin, and almost one of their set. 

As soon as Mr. Brudenell had paid his respects to each member of thefamily, Lord Vincent advanced frankly and cordially to greet him as anold acquaintance, saying:

"I had just learned from Miss Merlin of your arrival. You must have leftLondon very soon after I did. "

Before Mr. Brudenell could reply, Judge Merlin came up with Ishmael andsaid:

"Lord Vincent, excuse me. Mr. Brudenell, permit me--Mr. Worth, of theWashington bar. "

Herman Brudenell turned and confronted Ishmael Worth. And father and sonstood face to face. 

Herman's face was quivering with irrepressible yet unspeakable emotion;Ishmael's countenance was serene and smiling. 

No faintest instinct warned Nora's son that he stood in the presence ofhis father. He saw before him a tall, thin, fair-complexioned, gentlemanly person, whose light hair was slightly silvered, and whosedark brown eyes, in such strange contrast to the blond hair, were bentwith interest upon him. 

"I am happy to make your acquaintance, young gentleman. Permit me tooffer you my congratulations upon your very decided success, " said Mr. Brudenell, giving his hand. 

Ishmael bowed. 

"Brudenell, will you take my daughter in to dinner?" said Judge Merlin, seeing that Lord Vincent had already given his arm to Mrs. Middleton. 

Herman, glad to be relieved from a position that was beginning toovercome his self-possession, bowed to Miss Merlin, who smilinglyaccepted his escort. 

Judge Merlin drew Bee's arm within his own and followed. And Mr. Middleton, with a comic smile, crooked his elbow to Ishmael, who laughedinstead of accepting it, and those two walking side by side brought upthe rear. 

That dinner passed very much as other dinners of the same class. JudgeMerlin was cordial, Mr. Middleton facetious, Lord Vincent gracious, Mr. Brudenell silent and apparently abstracted, and Ishmael was attentive--alistener rather than a speaker. The ladies as usual at dinner-parties, where the conversation turns upon politics, were rather in thebackground, and took an early opportunity of withdrawing from the table, leaving the gentlemen to finish their political discussion over theirwine. 

The latter, however, did not linger long; but soon followed the ladiesto the drawing room, where coffee was served. And soon after the partyseparated for the evening. Herman Brudenell withdrew to his chamber withone idea occupying him--his son. Since the death of Nora had paralyzedhis affections, Herman Brudenell had loved no creature on earth until hemet her son upon this evening. Now the frozen love of years melted andflowed into one strong, impetuous stream towards him--her son--his son!Oh, that he might dare to claim him!

It was late when Mr. Brudenell fell asleep--so late that he overslepthimself in the morning. And when at last he awoke he was surprised tofind that it was ten o'clock. 

But Judge Merlin's house was "liberty hall. " His guests breakfasted whenthey got up, and got up when they awoke. It was one of his crochetsnever to have anyone awakened. He said that when people had had sleepenough, they would awaken of themselves, and to awaken them before thatwas an injurious interference with nature. And his standing order inregard to himself was, that no one should ever arouse him from sleepunless the house was on fire, or someone at the point of death. And woebetide anyone who should disregard this order!

So Mr. Brudenell had been allowed to sleep until he woke up at teno'clock, and when he went downstairs at eleven he found a warm breakfastawaiting him, and the little housewife, Bee, presiding over the coffee. 

As Bee poured out his coffee she informed him, in answer to his remarks, that all the members of the family had breakfasted and gone about theirseveral affairs. The judge and Ishmael had gone to court, and Mrs. Middleton and Claudia on a shopping expedition; but they would all beback at the luncheon hour, which was two o'clock. 

CHAPTER LX. 

HERMAN AND HANNAH. 

 She had the passions of her herd. She spake some bitter truths that day, Indeed he caught one ugly word, Was scarcely fit for her to say!

 --_Anon_. 

When breakfast was over Mr. Brudenell took his hat and walked down theAvenue to Seventh Street, and to the Farmer's in search of Hannah. 

In answer to his inquiries he was told that she was in, and he wasdesired to walk up to her room. A servant preceding him, opened a door, and said:

"Here is a ge'man to see you, mum. "

And Mr. Brudenell entered. 

Hannah looked, dropped the needlework she held in her hand, started up, overturning the chair, and with a stare of consternation exclaimed:

"The Lord deliver us! is it you? And hasn't the devil got you yet, Herman Brudenell?"

"It is I, Hannah, " he answered, dropping without invitation into thenearest seat. 

"And what on earth have you come for, after all these years?" she asked, continuing to stare at him. 

"To see you, Hannah. "

"And what in the name of common sense do you want to see me for? I don'twant to see you; that I tell you plainly; for I'd just as lief see OldNick!"

"Hannah, " said Herman Brudenell, with an unusual assumption of dignity, "I have come to speak to you about--Are you quite alone?" he suddenlybroke off and inquired, cautiously glancing around the room. 

"What's that to you? What can you have to say to me that you could notshout from the housetop? Yes, I'm alone, if you must know!"

"Then I wish to speak to you about my son. "

"Your--what?" demanded Hannah, with a frown as black as midnight. 

"My son, " repeated Herman Brudenell, with emphasis. 

"Your son? What son? I didn't know you had a son! What should I knowabout your son?"

"Woman, stop this! I speak of my son, Ishmael Worth--whom I met for thefirst time in the courtroom yesterday! And I ask you how it has faredwith him these many years?" demanded Mr. Brudenell sternly, for he wasbeginning to lose patience with Hannah. 

"Oh--h! So you met Ishmael Worth in the courtroom yesterday, just whenhe had proved himself to be the most talented man there, did you? Thataccounts for it all. I understand it now! You could leave him in hishelpless, impoverished, orphaned infancy to perish! You could utterlyneglect him, letting him suffer with cold and hunger and sickness foryears and years and years! And now that, by the blessing of AlmightyGod, he has worked himself up out of that horrible pit into the open airof the world; and now that from being a poor, despised outcast babe hehas risen to be a man of note among men; now, forsooth, you want toclaim him as your son! Herman Brudenell, I always hated you, but now Iscorn you! Twenty odd years ago I would have killed you, only I didn'twant to kill your soul as well as your body, nor likewise to be hangedfor you! And now I would shy this stick of wood at your head only that Idon't want Reuben Gray to have the mortification of seeing his wife tookup for assault! But I hate you, Herman Brudenell! And I despise you!There! take yourself out of my sight!"

Mr. Brudenell stamped impatiently and said:

"Hannah, you speak angrily, and therefore, foolishly. What good couldaccrue to me, or to him, by my claiming Ishmael as my son, unless Icould prove a marriage with his mother? It would only unearth the old, cruel, unmerited scandal now forgotten! No, Hannah; to you only, who arethe sole living depository of the secret, will I solace myself byspeaking of him as my son! You reproach me with having left him toperish. I did not so. I left in your hands a check for several--I forgethow many--thousand dollars to be used for his benefit. And I alwayshoped that he was well provided for until yesterday, when Judge Merlin, little thinking the interest I had in the story, gave me a sketch ofIshmael's early sufferings and struggles. And now I ask you what becameof that check?"

"That check? What check? What in the world do you mean?"

"The check for several thousand dollars which I gave you on the day ofmy departure, to be used for Ishmael's benefit. "

"Well, Herman Brudenell! I always thought, with all your faults, youwere still a man of truth; but after this--"

And Hannah finished by lifting her hands and eyes in horror. 

"Hannah, you do severely try my temper, but in memory of all yourkindness to my son--"

"Oh! I wasn't kind to him! I was as bad to him as you, and all the rest!I wished him dead, and neglected him!"

"You did!"

"Of course! Could anybody expect me to care more for him than his ownfather did? Yes, I wished him dead, and neglected him, because Ithought he had no right to be in the world, and would be better out ofit! So did everyone else. But he sucked his little, skinny thumb, andlooked alive at us with his big, bright eyes, and lived in defiance ofeverybody. And only see what he has lived to be! But it is the goodLord's doings and not mine, and not yours, Herman Brudenell, so don'tthank me anymore for kindness that I never showed to Ishmael, and don'ttell any more bragging lies about the checks for thousands of dollarsthat you never left him!"

Again Herman Brudenell stamped impatiently, frowned, bit his lips, andsaid:

"You shall not goad me to anger with the two-edged sword of your tongue, Hannah! You are unjust, because you are utterly mistaken in yourpremises! I did leave that check of which I speak! And I wish to knowwhat became of it, that it was not used for the support and education ofIshmael. Listen, now, and I will bring the whole circumstance to yourrecollection. "

And Herman Brudenell related in detail all the little incidentsconnected with his drawing of the check, ending with: "Now don't youremember, Hannah?"

Hannah looked surprised, and said:

"Yes, but was that little bit of dirty white paper, tore out of an oldbook, worth all that money?"

"Yes! after I had drawn a check upon it!"

"I didn't know! I didn't understand! I was sort o' dazed with grief, Isuppose. "

"But what became of the paper, Hannah?"

"Mrs. Jones lit the candle with it!"

"Oh! Hannah!"

"Was the money all lost? entirely lost because that little bit of paperwas burnt?"

"To you and to Ishmael it was, of course, since you never received it;but to me it was not, since it was never drawn from the bank. "

"Well, then, Mr. Brudenell, since the money was not lost, I do not somuch care if the check was burnt! I should not have used it for myself, or Ishmael, anyhow! Though I am glad to know that you did not neglecthim, and leave him to perish in destitution, as I supposed you had! I amvery glad you took measures for his benefit, although he never profitedby them, and I never would have let him do so. Still, it is pleasant tothink that you did your duty; and I am sorry I was so unjust to you, Mr. Brudenell. "

"Say no more of that, Hannah. Let us talk of my son. Remember that it isonly to you that I can talk of him. Tell me all about his infancy andchildhood. Tell me little anecdotes of him. I want to know more abouthim than the judge could tell me. I know old women love to gossip atgreat length of old times, so gossip away, Hannah--tell me everything. You shall have a most interested listener. "

"'Old women, ' indeed! Not so very much older than yourself, Mr. HermanBrudenell--if it comes to that! But anyways, if Reuben don't see as I amold, you needn't hit me in the teeth with it!" snapped Mrs. Gray. 

"Hannah, Hannah, what a temper you have got, to be sure! It is wellReuben is as patient as Job. "

"It is enough to rouse any woman's temper to be called old to her veryface!"

"So it is, Hannah; I admit it, and beg your pardon. But nothing wasfarther from my thoughts than to offend you. I feel old myself--veryold, and so I naturally think of the companions of my youth as old also. And now, will you talk to me about my son?"

"Well, yes, I will, " answered Hannah, and her tongue being loosened uponthe subject, she gave Mr. Brudenell all the incidents and anecdotes withwhich the reader is already acquainted, and a great many more with whichI could not cumber this story. 

While she was still "gossiping, " and Herman all attention, steps wereheard without, and the door opened, and Reuben Gray entered, smiling andradiant, and leading two robust children--a boy and a girl--each with alittle basket of early fruit in hand. 

On seeing a stranger Reuben Gray took off his hat, and the childrenstopped short, put their fingers in their mouths and stared. 

"Reuben, have you forgotten our old landlord, Mr. Herman Brudenell?"inquired Hannah. 

"Why, law, so it is! I'm main glad to see you, sir! I hope I find youwell!" exclaimed Reuben, beaming all over with welcome, as Mr. Brudenellarose and shook hands with him, replying:

"Quite well, and very happy to see you, Gray. "

"John and Mary, where are your manners? Take your fingers out of yourmouths this minute, --I'm quite ashamed of you!--and bow to thegentleman, " said Hannah, admonishing her offspring. 

"Whose fine children are these?" inquired Mr. Brudenell, drawing the shylittle ones to him. 

Reuben's honest face glowed all over with pride and joy as he answered:

"They are ours, sir! they are indeed! though you mightn't think it, tolook at them and us! And Ishmael--that is our nephew, sir--and though heis now Mr. Worth, and a splendid lawyer, he won't turn agin his plainkin, nor hear to our calling of him anythink else but Ishmael; and aftermaking his great speech yesterday, actilly walked right out'n thecourtroom, afore all the people, arm in arm long o' Hannah!--Ishmael, asI was a-saying, tells me as how this boy, John, have got a good head, and would make a fine scollard, and how, by-and-by, he means to take himfor a stoodient, and make a lawyer on him. And as for the girl, sir--why, law! look at her! you can see for yourself, sir, as she willhave all her mother's beauty. "

And Reuben, with a broad, brown hand laid benignantly upon each littlehead, smiled down upon the children of his age with all the glowingeffulgence of an autumnal noonday sun shining down upon the lateflowers. 

But--poor Hannah's "beauty"!

Mr. Brudenell repressed the smile that rose to his lips, for he feltthat the innocent illusions of honest affection were far too sacred tobe laughed at. 

And with some well-deserved compliments to the health and intelligenceof the boy and girl, he kissed them both, shook hands with Hannah andReuben, and went away. 

He turned his steps towards the City Hall, with the intention of goinginto the courtroom and comforting his soul by watching the son whom hedurst not acknowledge. 

And as he walked thither, how he envied humble Reuben Gray his parentalhappiness!

CHAPTER LXI. 

ENVY. 

 Well! blot him black with slander's ink, He stands as white as snow! You serve him better than you think And kinder than you know; What? is it not some credit then, That he provokes your blame? This merely, with all better men, Is quite a kind of fame!

 --_M. F. Tupper_. 

Mr. Brudenell found Ishmael in the anteroom of the court in closeconversation with a client, an elderly, care-worn woman in widow'sweeds. He caught a few words of her discourse, to which Ishmael appearedto be listening with sympathy. 

"Yes, sir, Maine; we belong to Bangor. He went to California some yearsago and made money. And he was on his way home and got as far as thiscity, where he was taken ill with the cholera, at his brother's house, where he died before I could get to him; leaving three hundred thousanddollars, all in California gold, which his brother refuses to give up, denying all knowledge of it. It is robbery of the widow and orphan, sir, and nothing short of that!"--she was saying. 

"If this is as you state it, it would seem to be a case for a detectivepoliceman and a criminal prosecution, rather than for an attorney and acivil suit, " said Ishmael. 

"So it ought to be, sir, for he deserves punishment; but I have beenadvised to sue him, and I mean to do it, if you will take my case. Butif you do take it, sir, it must be on conditions. "

"Yes. What are they?"

"Why, if you do not recover the money, you will not receive any pay; butif you do recover the money, you will receive a very large share of ityourself, as a compensation for your services and your risk. "

"I cannot take your case on these terms, madam; I cannot accept aconditional fee, " said Ishmael gently. 

"Then what shall I do?" exclaimed the widow, bursting into tears. "Ihave no money, and shall not have any until I get that! And how can Iget that unless I sue for it? Or how sue for it, unless you are willingto take the risk? Do, sir, try it! It will be no risk, after all; youwill be sure to gain it!"

"It is not the risk that I object to, madam, " said Ishmael very gently, "but it is this--to make my fee out of my case would appear to me a sortof professional gambling, from which I should shrink. "

"Then, Heaven help me, what shall I do?" exclaimed the widow, weepingafresh. 

"Do not distress yourself. I will call and see you this afternoon. Andif your case is what you represent it to be, I will undertake to conductit, " said Ishmael. And in that moment he made up his mind that if heshould find the widow's cause a just one, he would once more make a freeoffering of his services. 

The new client thanked him, gave her address, and departed. 

Ishmael turned to go into the courtroom, and found himself confrontedwith Mr. Brudenell. 

"Good-morning, Mr. Worth! I see you have another client already. "

"A possible one, sir, " replied Ishmael, smiling with satisfaction as heshook hands with Mr. Brudenell. 

"A poor one, you mean! Poor widows with claims always make a prey ofyoung lawyers, who are supposed to be willing to plead for nothing, rather than not plead at all! And it is all very well, as it gives thelatter an opening. But you are not one of those briefless lawyers; youhave already made your mark in the world, and so you must not permitthese female forlornities that haunt the courts to consume all your timeand attention. "

"Sir, " said Ishmael gravely and fervently, "I owe so much to God--somuch more than I can ever hope to pay, that at least I must show mygratitude to him by working for his poor! Do you not think that is onlyright, sir?"

And Ishmael looked into the face of this stranger, whom he had seen butonce before, with a singular longing for his approval. 

"Yes! I do! my--I do, Mr. Worth!" replied Brudenell with emotion, asthey entered the courtroom together. 

Late that afternoon Ishmael kept his appointment with the widow Cobham, and their consultation ended in Ishmael's acceptance of her brief. Otherclients also came to him, and soon his hands were full of business. 

As the Supreme Court had risen, and Judge Merlin had little or noofficial business on hand, Ishmael's position in his office was almost asinecure, and therefore the young man delicately hinted to his employerthe propriety of a separation between them. 

"No, Ishmael! I cannot make up my mind to part with you yet. It is true, as you say, that there is little to do now; but recollect that formonths past there has been a great deal to do, and you have done aboutfour times as much work for me as I was entitled to expect of you. Sothat now you have earned the right to stay on with me to the end of theyear, without doing any work at all. "

"But, sir--"

"But I won't hear a word about your leaving us just yet, Ishmael. I willhold you to your engagement, at least until the first of June, when weall return to Tanglewood; then, if you wish it, of course I will releaseyou, as your professional duties will require your presence in the city. But while we remain in town, I will not consent to your leaving us, norrelease you from your engagement, " said the judge. 

And Ishmael was made happy by this decision. It had been a point ofhonor with him, as there was so little to do, to offer to leave thejudge's employment; but now that the offer had been refused, and he washeld to his engagement, he was very much pleased to find himself obligedto remain under the same roof with Claudia. 

Ah! sweet and fatal intoxication of her presence! he would not willinglytear himself away from it. 

Meanwhile this pleasure was but occasional and fleeting. He seldom sawClaudia except at the dinner hour. 

Miss Merlin never now got up to breakfast with the family. Her life offashionable dissipation was beginning to tell even on her youthful andvigorous constitution. Every evening she was out until a late hour, atsome public ball, private party, concert, theater, lecture room, or someother place of amusement. The consequence was that she was always tootired to rise and breakfast with the family, whom she seldom joineduntil the two o'clock lunch. And at that hour Ishmael was sure to be atcourt, where the case of Cobham versus Hanley, in which Mr. Worth wascounsel for the plaintiff, was going on. At the six o'clock dinner hedaily met her, as I said, but that was always in public. And immediatelyafter coffee she would go out, attended by Mrs. Middleton as chaperoneand the Viscount Vincent as escort. And she would return long afterIshmael had retired to his room, so that he would not see her againuntil the next day at dinner. And so the days wore on. 

Mr. Brudenell remained the guest of Judge Merlin. A strange affectionwas growing up between him and Ishmael Worth. Brudenell understood thesecret of this affection; Ishmael did not. The father, otherwisechildless, naturally loved the one gifted son of his youth, and lovedhim the more that he durst not acknowledge him. And Ishmael, in hisgenial nature, loved in return the stranger who showed so muchaffectionate interest in him. No one perceived the likeness that wassaid by the viscount to exist between the two except the viscounthimself; and since he had seen them together he had ceased to commentupon the subject. 

Reuben Gray and his family had returned home, so that Mr. Brudenell gotno farther opportunity of talking with Hannah. 

The Washington season, prolonged by an extra session of Congress, was atlength drawing to a close; and it was finished off with a succession ofvery brilliant parties. Ishmael Worth was now included in everyinvitation sent to the family of Judge Merlin, and in compliance withthe urgent advice of the judge he accepted many of these invitations, and appeared in some of the most exclusive drawing rooms in Washington, where his handsome person, polished manners, and distinguished talentsmade him welcome. 

But none among these brilliant parties equaled in splendor the ballgiven early in the season by the Merlins. 

"And since no one has been able to eclipse my ball, I will eclipse itmyself by a still more splendid one--a final grand display at the end ofthe season, like a final grand tableau at the close of the pantomime, "said Claudia. 

"My dear, you will ruin yourself, " expostulated Mrs. Middleton. 

"My aunt, I shall be a viscountess, " replied Miss Merlin. 

And preparations for the great party were immediately commenced. Morethan two hundred invitations were sent out. And the aid of the threegreat ministers of fashion--Vourienne, Devizac, and Dureezie--werecalled in, and each was furnished with a carte-blanche as to expenses. And as to squander the money of the prodigal heiress was to illustratetheir own arts, they availed themselves of the privilege in the freestmanner. 

For a few days the house was closed to visitors, and given up to sufferthe will of the decorator Vourienne and his attendant magicians, whosoon contrived to transform the sober mansion of the American judge intosomething very like the gorgeous palace of an Oriental prince. And as ifthey would not be prodigal enough if left to themselves, Claudiacontinually interfered to instigate them to new extravagances. 

Meanwhile nothing was talked of in fashionable circles but theapproaching ball, and the novelties it was expected to develop. 

On the morning of the day, Vourienne and his imps having completed theirfancy papering, painting, and gilding, and put the finishing touches byfestooning all the walls and ceilings, and wreathing all the gildedpillars with a profusion of artificial flowers, at last evacuated thepremises, just it time to allow Devizac and his army to march in for thepurpose of laying the feast. These forces held possession of the supperroom, kitchen, and pantry for the rest of the evening, and prepared asupper which it would be vain to attempt to describe, since even theeloquent reporter of the "Republican Court Journal" failed to do itjustice. A little later in the evening Dureezie and his celebratedtroupe arrived, armed with all the celebrated dances--waltzes, polkas, etc. --then known, and one or two others composed expressly for thisoccasion. 

And, when they had taken their places, Claudia and her party came downinto the front drawing room to be ready to receive the company. 

On this occasion it was Miss Merlin's whim to dress with exceedingrichness. She wore a robe of dazzling splendor--a fabric of the looms ofIndia, a sort of gauze of gold, that seemed to be composed of wovensunbeams, and floated gracefully around her elegant figure and accordedwell with her dark beauty. The bodice of this gorgeous dress wasliterally starred with diamonds. A coronet of diamonds flashed above herblack ringlets, a necklace of diamonds rested upon her full bosom, andbracelets of the same encircled her rounded arms. Such a glowing, splendid, refulgent figure as she presented suggested the idea of aMohammedan sultana rather than that of a Christian maiden. But it wasMiss Merlin's caprice upon this occasion to dazzle, bewilder, andastonish. 

Bee, who stood near her like a maid of honor to a queen, was dressedwith her usual simplicity and taste, in a fine white crêpe, with asingle white lily on her bosom. 

Mrs. Middleton, standing also with Claudia, wore a robe of silver gray. 

And this pure white on one side and pale gray on the other did butheighten the effect of Claudia's magnificent costume. 

The fashionable hour for assembling at evening parties was then teno'clock. By a quarter past ten the company began to arrive, and byeleven the rooms were quite full. 

The Viscount Vincent arrived early, and devoted himself to Miss Merlin, standing behind her chair like a lord in waiting. 

Ishmael was also present with this group ostensibly in attendance uponBeatrice, but really and truly waiting every turn of Claudia'scountenance or conversation. 

While they were all standing, grouped in this way, to receive allcomers, Judge Merlin approached, smiling, and accompanied by an officerin the uniform of the United States army, whom he presented in thesewords:

"Claudia, my love, I bring you an old acquaintance--a very oldacquaintance--Captain Burghe. "

Claudia bowed as haughtily and distantly as it was possible to do; andthen, without speaking, glanced inquiringly at her father as if toask--"How came this person here?"

Judge Merlin replied to that mute question by saying:

"I was so lucky as to meet our young friend on the Avenue to-day; he isbut just arrived. I told him what was going on here this evening andbegged him to waive ceremony and come to us. And he was so good as totake me at my word! Bee, my dear, don't you remember your old playmate, Alfred Burghe?" said the judge, appealing for relief to his amiableniece. 

Now, Bee was too kind-hearted to hurt anyone's feelings, and yet tootruthful to make professions she did not feel. She could not positivelysay that she was glad to see Alfred Burghe; but she could give him herhand and say:

"I hope you are well, Mr. Burghe. "

"Captain! Captain, my dear! he commands a company now! Lord Vincentpermit me--Captain Burghe. "

A haughty bow from the viscount and a reverential one from the captainacknowledged this presentation. 

Then Mrs. Middleton kindly shook hands with the unwelcome visitor. 

And finally Claudia unbent a little from her hauteur and condescended toaddress a few commonplace remarks to him. But at length her eyes flashedupon Ishmael standing behind Bee. 

"You are acquainted with Mr. Worth, I presume, Captain Burghe?" sheinquired. 

"I have not that honor, " said Alfred Burghe arrogantly. 

"Then I will confer it upon you!" said Claudia very gravely. "Mr. Worth, I hope you will permit me to present to you Captain Burghe. CaptainBurghe, Mr. Worth, of the Washington bar. "

Ishmael bowed with courtesy; but Alfred Burghe grew violently red in theface, and with a short nod turned away. 

"Captain Burghe has a bad memory, my lord!" said Claudia, turning to theviscount. "The gentleman to whom I have just presented him once savedhis life at the imminent risk of his own. It is true the affair happenedlong ago, when they were both boys; but it seems to me that if anyonehad exposed himself to a death by fire to rescue me from a burningbuilding, I should remember it to the latest day of my life. "

"Pardon me, Miss Merlin. The circumstance to which you allude was beyondmy control, and Mr. --a--Word's share in it without my consent; hisservice was, I believe, well repaid by my father; and the trouble withme is not that my memory is defective, but rather that it is tooretentive. I remember the origin of--"

"Our acquaintance with Mr. Worth!" interrupted Claudia, turning deadlypale and speaking in the low tones of suppressed passion. "Yes, I know!there was a stopped carriage, rifled hampers, and detected thieves. There was a young gentleman who dishonored his rank, and a noble workingboy who distinguished himself in that affair. I remember perfectly wellthe circumstances to which you refer. "

"You mistake, Miss Merlin, " retorted Burghe, with a hot flush upon hisbrow, "I do not refer to that boyish frolic, for it was no more! I referto--"

"Mr. Burghe, excuse me. Mr. Worth, will you do me the favor to tell theband to strike up a quadrille? Lord Vincent, I presume they expect us toopen the ball. Bee, my dear, you are engaged to Mr. Worth for this set. Be sure when he returns to come to the same set with us and be ourvis-à-vis, " said Claudia, speaking rapidly. 

Before she had finished Ishmael had gone upon her errand, and the bandstruck up a lively quadrille. Claudia gave her hand to Lord Vincent, wholed her to the head of the first set. When Ishmael returned, Bee gavehim her hand and told him Claudia's wish, which, of course, had all theforce of a command for him, and he immediately led Bee to the placeopposite Lord Vincent and Hiss Merlin. 

And Captain Burghe was left to bite his nails in foiled malignity. 

But later in the evening he took his revenge and received hispunishment. 

It happened in this manner: New quadrilles were being formed. Claudiawas again dancing with Lord Vincent, and they had taken their places atthe head of one of the sets. Ishmael was dancing with one of the poorneglected "wallflowers" to whom Bee had kindly introduced him, and heled his partner to a vacant place at the foot of one of the sets; he wasso much engaged in trying to entertain the shy and awkward girl that hedid not observe who was their vis-à-vis, or overhear the remarks thatwere made. 

But Claudia, who, with the viscount, was standing very near, heard andsaw all. She saw Ishmael lead his shy young partner up to a place in theset, exactly opposite to where Alfred Burghe with his partner, MissTourneysee, stood. And she heard Mr. Burghe whisper to Miss Tourneysee:

"Excuse me; and permit me to lead you to a seat. The person who has justtaken the place opposite to us is not a proper associate even for me, still less for you. "

And she saw Miss Tourneysee's look of surprise and heard her low-tonedexclamation:

"Why, it is Mr. Worth! I have danced with him often!"

"I am sorry to hear it. I hope you will take the word of an officer anda gentleman that he is not a respectable person, and by no means aproper acquaintance for any lady. "

"But why not?"

"Pardon me. I cannot tell you why not. It is not a story fit for yourears. But I will tell your father. For I think the real position of thefellow ought to be known. In the meantime, will you take my word for thetruth of what I have said, and permit me to lead you to a seat?"

"Certainly, " said the young lady, trembling with distress. 

"I regret exceedingly to deprive you of your dance; but you perceivethat there is no other vacant place. "

"Oh, don't mention it! Find me a seat. "

This low-toned conversation, every word of which had been overheard byClaudia who, though in another set, stood nearly back to back with thespeaker, was entirely lost to Ishmael, who stood at the foot of the sameset with him, but was at a greater distance, and was besides quiteabsorbed in the task of reassuring his timid schoolgirl companion. 

Just as Burghe turned to lead his partner away, and Ishmael, attractedby the movement, lifted his eyes to see the cause, Claudia gently drewLord Vincent after her, and going up to the retiring couple said:

"Miss Tourneysee, I beg your pardon; but will you and your partner domyself and Lord Vincent the favor to exchange places with us? Weparticularly desire to form a part of this set. "

"Oh, certainly!" said the young lady, wondering, but rejoiced to findthat she should not be obliged to miss the dance. 

They exchanged places accordingly; but as they still stood very neartogether, Claudia heard him whisper to his partner:

"This evening I think I will speak to your father and some othergentlemen and enlighten them as to who this fellow really is!"

Claudia heard all this; but commanded herself. Her face was pale asmarble; her lips were bloodless; but her dark eyes had the terriblegleam of suppressed but determined hatred! In such moods as hers, peoplehave sometimes planned murder. 

However, she went through all the four dances very composedly. And whenthey were over and Lord Vincent had led her to a seat, she sent him tofetch her a glass of water, while she kept her eye on the movements ofCaptain Burghe, until she saw him deposit his partner on a sofa andleave her to fetch a cream, or some such refreshment. 

And then Claudia arose, drank the ice-water brought her by the viscount, set the empty glass on a stand and requested Lord Vincent to give herhis arm down the room, as she wished to speak to Captain Burghe. 

The viscount glanced at her in surprise, saw that her face wasbloodless; but ascribed her pallor to fatigue. 

Leaning on Lord Vincent's arm, she went down the whole length of theroom until she paused before the sofa on which sat Miss Tourneysee andseveral other ladies, attended by General Tourneysee, Captain Burghe andother gentlemen. 

Burghe stood in front of the sofa, facing the ladies and with his backtowards Claudia, of whose approach he was entirely ignorant, as hediscoursed as follows:

"Quite unfit to be received in respectable society, I assure you, General! Came of a wretchedly degraded set, the lowest of the low, uponmy honor. This fellow--"

Claudia touched his shoulder with the end of her fan. 

Alfred Burghe turned sharply around and confronted Miss Merlin, and onmeeting her eyes grew as pale as she was herself. 

"Captain Burghe, " she said, modulating her voice to low and courteoustones, "you have had the misfortune to malign one of our most esteemedfriends, at present a member of our household. I regret this accidentexceedingly, as it puts me under the painful necessity of requesting youto leave the house with as little delay as possible!"

"Miss Merlin--ma'am!" began the captain, crimsoning with shame and rage. 

"You have heard my request, sir! I have no more to say but to wish you avery good evening, " said Claudia, as with a low and sweeping courtesyshe turned away. 

Passing near the hall where the footmen waited, she spoke to one ofthem, saying:

"Powers, attend that gentleman to the front door. "

All this was done so quietly that Alfred Burghe was able to slink fromthe room, unobserved by anyone except the little group around the sofa, whom he had been entertaining with his calumnies. To them he hadmuttered that he would have satisfaction; that he would call MissMerlin's father to a severe account for the impertinence of hisdaughter, etc. 

But the consternation produced by these threats was soon dissipated. Theband struck up an alluring waltz, and Lord Vincent claimed the hand ofBeatrice, and Ishmael, smiling, radiant and unsuspicious, came in searchof Miss Tourneysee, who accepted his hand for the dance without aninstant's hesitation. 

"Do you know"--inquired Miss Tourneysee, with a little curiosity toascertain whether there was any mutual enmity between Burghe andIshmael--"do you know who that Captain Burghe is that danced the lastquadrille with me?"

"Yes; he is the son of the late Commodore Burghe, who was a gallantofficer, a veteran of 1812, and did good service during the last War ofIndependence, " said Ishmael generously, uttering not one word againsthis implacable foe. 

Miss Tourneysee looked at him wistfully and inquired: "Is the son asgood a man as the father?"

"I have not known Captain Burghe since we were at school together. "

"I do not like him. I do not think he is a gentleman, " said MissTourneysee. 

Ishmael did not reply. It was not his way to speak even deserved evil ofthe absent. 

But Miss Tourneysee drew a mental comparison between the meanness ofAlfred's conduct and the nobility of Ishmael's. And the dance succeededthe conversation. 

Claudia remained sitting on the sofa beside Mrs. Middleton, until at theclose of the dance, when she was rejoined by the viscount, who did notleave her again during the evening. 

The early summer nights were short, and so it was near the dawn when thecompany separated. 

The party as a whole had been the most splendid success of the season. 

CHAPTER LXII. 

FOILED MALICE. 

 Through good report and ill report, The true man goes his way, Nor condescends to pay his court To what the vile may say: Aye, be the scandal what they will, And whisper what they please, They do but fan his glory still By whistling up a breeze. 

 --_M. F. Tupper_. 

The family slept late next day, and the breakfast was put back to theluncheon hour, when at length they all, with one exception, assembledaround the table. 

"Where is Mr. Worth?" inquired the judge. 

"He took a cup of coffee and went to the courthouse at the usual hour, sir, " returned Powers, who was setting the coffee on the table. 

"Humph! that hotly contested case of Cobham versus Hanley still inprogress, I suppose, " said the judge. 

At this moment Sam entered the breakfast room and laid a card on thetable before his master. 

"Eh? 'Lieutenant Springald, U. S. A. ' Who the mischief is he?" said thejudge, reading the name on the card. 

"The gentleman, sir, says he has called to see you on particularbusiness, " replied Sam. 

"This is a pretty time to come on business! Show him up into my office, Sam. "

The servant withdrew to obey. 

The judge addressed himself to his breakfast, and the conversationturned upon the party of the preceding evening. 

"I wonder what became of Burghe? He disappeared very early in theevening, " said Judge Merlin. 

"I turned him out of doors, " answered Claudia coolly. 

The judge set down his coffee cup and stared at his daughter. 

"He deserved it, papa! And nothing on earth but my sex prevented me fromgiving him a thrashing as well as a discharge, " said Claudia. 

"What has he done?" inquired her father. 

Claudia told him the whole. 

"Well, my dear, you did right, though I am sorry that there should havebeen any necessity for dismissing him. Degenerate son of a noble father, will nothing reform him!" was the comment of the judge. 

Mr. Brudenell, who was present, and had heard Claudia's account, wasreflecting bitterly upon the consequences of his own youthful fault ofhaste, visited so heavily in unjust reproach upon the head of hisfaultless son. 

"Well!" said the judge, rising from the table, "now I will go and seewhat the deuce is wanted of me by Lieutenant--Spring--Spring--Springchicken! or whatever his name is!"

He went upstairs and found seated in his office a beardless youth inuniform, who arose and saluted him, saying, as he handed a folded note:

"I have the honor to be the bearer of a challenge, sir, from my friendand superior officer, Captain Burghe. "

"A--what?" demanded the judge, with a frown as black as a thunder-cloudand a voice sharp as its clap, which made the little officer jump fromhis feet. 

"A challenge, sir!" repeated the latter, as soon as he had composedhimself. 

"Why what the deuce do you mean by bringing a challenge to_me_--breaking the law under the very nose of an officer of the law?"said the judge, snatching the note and tearing it open. When he had readit, he looked sternly at the messenger and said:

"Why don't you know it is my solemn duty to have you arrested and sentto prison, for bringing me this, eh?"

"Sir, " began the little fellow, drawing his figure up, "men of honornever resort to such subterfuges to evade the consequences of their ownacts. "

"Hold your tongue, child! You know nothing about what you are talkingof. Men of honor are not duelists, but peaceable, law-abiding citizens. Don't be frightened, my brave little bantam! I won't have you arrestedthis time; but I will answer your heroic principal instead. Let us seeagain--what it is he says?"

And the judge sat down at his writing table and once more read over thechallenge. 

It ran thus:

 Mansion House, Friday. 

 Judge Merlin--Sir: I have been treated with the grossest contumely by your daughter, Miss Claudia Merlin. I demand an ample apology from the young lady, or in default of that, the satisfaction of a gentleman from yourself. In the event of the first alternative offered being chosen, my friend, Lieutenant Springald, the bearer of this, is authorized to accept in my behalf all proper apologies that may be tendered. Or in the event of the second alternative offered being chosen, I must request that you will refer my friend to any friend of yours, that they may arrange together the terms of our hostile meeting. 

 I have the honor to be, etc. , Alfred Burghe. 

Judge Merlin smiled grimly as he laid this precious communication asideand took up his pen to reply to it. 

His answer ran as follows:

 Washington House, Friday. 

 Captain Alfred Burghe: My daughter, Miss Merlin, did perfectly right, and I fully endorse her act. Therefore, the first alternative offered--of making you the apology you demand--is totally inadmissible; but I accept the second one of giving you the satisfaction you require. The friend to whom I refer your friend is Deputy Marshal Browning, who will be prepared to take you both in custody. And the weapons with which I will meet you will be the challenge that you have sent me and a warrant for your arrest. Hoping that this course may give perfect satisfaction, I have the honor to be, etc. , Randolph Merlin. 

Judge Merlin carefully folded and directed this note, and put it intothe hands of the little lieutenant, saying pleasantly:

"There, my child! There you are! Take that to your principal. "

The little fellow hesitated. 

"I hope, sir, that this contains a perfectly satisfactory apology?" hesaid, turning it around in his fingers. 

"Oh, perfectly! amply! We shall hear no more of the challenge. "

"I am very glad, sir, " said the little lieutenant, rising. 

"Won't you have something before you go?"

The lieutenant hesitated. 

"Shall I ring for the maid to bring you a slice of bread and butter anda cup of milk?"

"No, thank you, sir!" said Springald, with a look of offended dignity. 

"Very well, then; you must give my respects to your papa and mamma, andask them to let you come and play with little Bobby and Tommy Middleton!They are nice little boys!" said the judge, so very kindly that thelittle lieutenant, though hugely affronted, scarcely knew in what mannerto resent the affront. 

"Good-day, sir!" he said, with a vast assumption of dignity, as hestrutted towards the door. 

"Good-day, my little friend. You seem an innocent little fellow enough. Therefore I hope that you will never again be led into the sinful follyof carrying a challenge to fight a duel, especially to a gray-headedchief justice. "

And so saying, Judge Merlin bowed his visitor out. 

And it is scarcely necessary to say that Judge Merlin heard no more of"the satisfaction of a gentleman. "

The story, however, got out, and Captain Burghe and his second were somercilessly laughed at, that they voluntarily shortened their ownfurlough and speedily left Washington. 

The remainder of that week the house was again closed to company, duringthe process of dismantling the reception rooms of their festivedecorations and restoring them to their ordinarily sober aspect. 

By Saturday afternoon this transformation was effected, and thehousehold felt themselves at home again. 

Early that evening Ishmael joined the family circle perfectly radiantwith good news. 

"What is it, Ishmael?" inquired the judge. 

"Well, sir, the hard-fought battle is over at length, and we have thevictory. The case of Cobham versus Hanley is decided. The jury came intocourt this afternoon with a verdict for the plaintiff. "

"Good!" said the judge. 

"And the widow and children get their money. I am so glad!" said Bee, who had kept herself posted up in the progress of the great suit byreading the reports in the daily papers. 

"Yes, but how much money will you get, Ishmael?" inquired the judge. 

"None, sir, on this case. A conditional fee that I was to make out of mycase was offered me by the plaintiff in the first instance, but ofcourse I could not speculate in justice. "

"Humph! well, it is of no use to argue with you, Ishmael. Now, there aretwo great cases which you have gained, and which ought to have broughtyou at least a thousand dollars, and which have brought you nothing. "

"Not exactly nothing, uncle; they have brought him fame, " said Bee. 

"Fame is all very well, but money is better, " said the judge. 

"The money will come also in good time, uncle; never you fear. Ishmaelhas placed his capital out at good interest, and with the bestsecurity. "

"What do you mean, Bee?"

"'Whoso giveth to the poor, lendeth to the Lord. ' Ishmael's services, given to the poor, are lent to the Lord, " said Bee reverently. 

"Humph! humph! humph!" muttered the judge, who never ventured to carryon an argument when the Scripture was quoted against him. "Well! Isuppose it is all right. And now I hear that you are counsel for thatpoor devil Toomey, who fell through the grating of Sarsfield's cellar, and crippled himself for life. "

"Yes, " said Ishmael. "I think he is entitled to heavy damages. It wascriminal carelessness in Sarsfield & Company to leave their cellargrating in that unsafe condition for weeks, to the great peril of thepassers-by. It was a regular trap for lives and limbs. And this poorlaborer, passing over it, has fallen and lamed himself for life! And hehas a large family depending upon him for support. I have laid thedamages at five thousand dollars. "

"Yes; but how much do you get?"

"Nothing. As in the other two cases, my client is not able to pay me aretaining fee, and it is against my principles to accept a contingentone. "

"Humph! that makes three 'free, gratis, for nothing' labors! I wonderhow long it will be before the money cases begin to come on?" inquiredthe judge, a little sarcastically. 

"Oh, not very long, " smiled Ishmael. "I have already received severalretaining fees from clients who are able to pay, but whose cases may notcome on until the next term. "

"But when does poor Toomey's case come on?"

"Monday. "

At that moment the door opened, and Powers announced:

"Lord Vincent!"

The viscount entered the drawing room; and Ishmael's pleasure was overfor that evening. 

On Monday Ishmael's third case, Toomey versus Sarsfield, came on. Itlasted several days, and then was decided in favor of theplaintiff--Toomey receiving every dollar of the damages claimed for himby his attorney. In his gratitude the poor man would have pressed alarge sum of money, even to one-fifth of his gains, upon his youngcounsel; but Ishmael, true to his principle of never gambling injustice, refused to take a dollar. 

That week the court adjourned; and the young barrister had leisure tostudy and get up his cases for the next term. The extra session ofCongress was also over. The Washington season was in fact at an end. Andeverybody was preparing to leave town. 

Judge Merlin issued a proclamation that his servants should pack up allhis effects, preparatory to a migration to Tanglewood; for that chainsshould not bind him to Washington any longer, nor wild horses draw himto Saratoga, or any other place of public resort; because his very soulwas sick of crowds and longed for the wilderness. 

But the son of Powhatan was destined to find that circumstances areoften stronger than those forces that he defied. 

And so his departure from Washington was delayed for weeks by thisevent. 

One morning the Viscount Vincent called as usual, and, after a prolongedprivate interview with Miss Merlin, he sent a message to Judge Merlinrequesting to see him alone for a few minutes. 

Ishmael was seated with Judge Merlin in the study at the moment Powersbrought this message. 

"Ah! Lord Vincent requests the honor of a private interview with me, does he? Well, it is what I have been expecting for some days! Wonder ifhe doesn't think he is conferring an honor instead of receiving one? Askhim to be so good as to walk up, Powers. Ishmael, my dear boy, excuse mefor dismissing you for a few minutes; but pray return to me as soon asthis Lord--'Foppington'--leaves me. May Satan fly away with him, for Iknow he is coming to ask me for my girl!"

It was well that Ishmael happened to be sitting with his back to thewindow. It was well also that Judge Merlin did not look up as his youngpartner passed out, else would the judge have seen the haggardcountenance which would have told him more eloquently than words couldof the force of the blow that had fallen on Ishmael's heart. 

He went up into his own little room, and sat down at his desk, andleaning his brow upon his hand struggled with the anguish that wrung hisheart. 

It had fallen, then! It had fallen--the crushing blow! Claudia wasbetrothed to the viscount. He might have been, as everyone else was, prepared for this. But he was not. For he knew that Claudia wasperfectly conscious of his own passionate love for her, and he knew thatshe loved him with almost equal fervor. It is true his heart had beenoften wrung with jealousy when seeing her with Lord Vincent; yet eventhen he had thought that her vanity only was interested in receiving theattentions of the viscount; and he had trusted in her honor that hebelieved would never permit her, while loving himself, to marry another, or even give that other serious encouragement. It is true also that hehad never breathed his love to Claudia, for he knew that to do so wouldbe an unpardonable abuse of his position in Judge Merlin's family, aflagrant breach of confidence, and a fatal piece of presumption thatwould insure his final banishment from Claudia's society. So he hadstruggled to control his passion, seeing also that Claudia strove toconquer hers. And though no words passed between them, each knew bysecret sympathy the state of the other's mind. 

But lately, since his brilliant success at the bar and the gloriousprospect that opened before him, he had begun to hope that Claudia, conscious of their mutual love, would wait for him only a few shortyears, at the end of which he would be able to offer her a position notunworthy even of Judge Merlin's daughter. 

Such had been his splendid "castle in the air. " But now the thunderbolthad fallen and his castle was in ruins. 

Claudia, whom he had believed to be, if not perfectly faultless, yet thepurest, noblest, and proudest among women; Claudia, his queen, had beencapable of selling herself to be the wife of an unloved man, for theprice of a title and a coronet--a breath and a bauble!

Claudia had struck a fatal blow, not only to his love for her, but tohis honor of her; and both love and honor were in their death-throes!

Anguish is no computer of time. He might have sat there half an hour orhalf a day, he could not have told which, when he heard the voice of hiskind friend calling him. 

"Ishmael, Ishmael, my lad, where are you, boy? Come to me!"

"Yes, yes, sir, I am coming, " he answered mechanically. 

And like one who has fainted from torture, and recovered inbewilderment, he arose and walked down to the study. 

Some blind instinct led him straight to the chair that was sitting withits back to the window; into this he sank, with his face in the deepshadow. 

Judge Merlin was walking up and down the floor, with signs ofdisturbance in his looks and manners. 

A waiter with decanters of brandy and wine, and some glasses, stood uponthe table. This was a very unusual thing. 

"Well, Ishmael, it is done! my girl is to be a viscountess; but I do notlike it; no, I do not like it!"

Ishmael was incapable of reply; but the judge continued:

"It is not only that I shall lose her; utterly lose her, for her homewill be in another hemisphere, and the ocean will roll between me and mysole child, --it is not altogether that, --but, Ishmael, I don't likethe fellow; and I never did, and never can!"

Here the judge paused, poured out a glass if wine, drank it, andresumed:

"And I do not know why I don't like him! that is the worst of it! Hisrank is, of course, unexceptionable, and indeed much higher than a plainrepublican like myself has a right to expect in a son-in-law! And hischaracter appears to be unquestionable! He is good-looking, well-behaved, intelligent and well educated young fellow enough, and soI do not know why it is that I don't like him! But I don't like him, andthat is all about it!"

The judge sighed, ran his hands through his gray hair, and continued:

"If I had any reason for this dislike; if I could find any just cause ofoffense in him; if I could put my hand down on any fault of hischaracter, I could then say to my daughter: 'I object to this man foryour husband upon this account, ' and then I know she would not marry himin direct opposition to my wishes. But, you see, I cannot do anythinglike this, and my objection to the marriage, if I should express it, would appear to be caprice, prejudice, injustice--"

He sighed again, walked several times up and down the floor in silence, and then once more resumed his monologue:

"People will soon be congratulating me on my daughter's very splendidmarriage. Congratulating me! Good Heaven, what a mockery! Congratulatingme on the loss of my only child, to a foreigner, whom I half dislike andmore than half suspect--though without being able to justify eitherfeeling. What do you think, Ishmael? Is that a subject forcongratulation. But, good Heaven, boy! what is the matter with you? Areyou ill?" he suddenly exclaimed, pausing before the young man andnoticing for the first time the awful pallor of his face and the deadlycollapse of his form. 

"Are you ill, my dear boy? Speak!"

"Yes, yes, I am ill!" groaned Ishmael. 

"Where? where?"

"Everywhere!"

The judge rushed to the table and poured out a glass of brandy andbrought it to him. 

But the young man, who was habitually and totally abstinent, shook hishead. 

"Drink it! drink it!" said the judge, offering the glass. 

But Ishmael silently waved it off. 

"As a medicine, you foolish fellow--as a medicine! You are sinking, don't you know!" persisted the judge, forcing the glass into Ishmael'shand. 

Ishmael then placed it to his lips and swallowed its contents. 

The effect of this draught upon him, unaccustomed as he was to alcoholicstimulants, was instantaneous. The brandy diffused itself through hischilled, sinking, and dying frame, warming, elevating, and restoring itspowers. 

"This is the fabled 'elixir of life. ' I did not believe there was such arestorative in the world!" said Ishmael, sitting up and breathing freelyunder the transient exhilaration. 

"To be sure it is, my boy!" said the judge heartily, as he took theempty glass from Ishmael's hand and replaced it on the waiter. "But whathave you been doing to reduce yourself to this state? Sitting up allnight over some perplexing case, as likely as not. "

"No. "

"But I am sure you overwork yourself. You should not do it, Ishmael! Itis absurd to kill yourself for a living, you know. "

"I think, Judge Merlin, that, as you are so soon about to leaveWashington, and as there is so little to do in your office, I should begrateful if you would at once release me from our engagement and permitme to leave your employment, " said Ishmael, who felt that it would be tohim the most dreadful trial to remain in the house and meet Claudia andVincent as betrothed lovers every day, and at last witness theirmarriage. 

The judge looked annoyed and then asked:

"Now, Ishmael, why do you wish to leave me before the expiration of theterm for which you were engaged?"

And before Ishmael could answer that question, he continued:

"You are in error as to the reasons you assign. In the first place, I amnot to leave Washington so soon as I expected; as it is arranged that weshall remain here for the solemnization of the marriage, which will nottake place until the first of July. And in the second place, instead ofthere being but little to do in the office, there will be a great dealto do--all Claudia's estate to be arranged, the viscount's affairs to beexamined, marriage settlements to be executed, --I wish it was thebridegroom that was to be executed instead, --letters to be written, andwhat not. So that you see I shall need your services very much. Andbesides, Ishmael, my boy, I do not wish to part with you just now, inthis great trial of my life; for it is a great trial to me, Ishmael, topart with my only child, to a foreigner whom I dislike and who will takeher across the sea to another world. I have loved you as a son, Ishmael. And now I ask you to stand by me in this crisis--for I do not know how Ishall bear it. It will be to me like giving her up to death. "

Ishmael arose and placed his hand in that of his old friend. His statelyyoung form was shaken by agitation, as an oak tree is by a storm, as hesaid:

"I will remain with you, Judge Merlin. I will remain with you throughthis trial. But oh, you do not know--you cannot know how terrible theordeal will be to me!"

A sudden light of revelation burst upon Judge Merlin's mind! He lookedinto that agonized young face, clasped that true hand and said:

"Is it so, my boy? Oh, my poor boy, is it indeed so?"

"Make some excuse for me to the family below; say that I am not well, for that indeed is true; I cannot come into the drawing room thisevening!" said Ishmael. 

And he hastily wrung his friend's hand and hurried from the room, forafter that one touch of sympathy from Claudia's father he felt that ifhe had stayed another moment he should have shamed his manhood and wept. 

He hurried up into his little room to strive, in solitude and prayer, with his great sorrow. 

Meanwhile the judge took up his hat for a walk in the open air. He hadnot seen his daughter since he had given his consent to her betrothal. And he felt that as yet he would not see her. He wished to subdue hisown feelings of pain and regret before meeting her with thecongratulations which he wished to offer. 

"After all, " he said to himself, as he descended the stairs "after all, I suppose, I should dislike any man in the world who should come tomarry Claudia, so it is not the viscount who is in fault; but I who amunreasonable. But Ishmael! Ah, poor boy! poor boy! Heaven forgiveClaudia if she has had anything to do with this! And may Heaven comforthim, for be deserves to be happy!"

CHAPTER LXIII. 

THE BRIDE-ELECT. 

 She stands up her full height, With her rich dress flowing round her, And her eyes as fixed and bright As the diamond stars that crown her, -- An awful, beautiful sight. 

 Beautiful? Yes, with her hair So wild and her cheeks so flushed! Awful? Yes, for there In her beauty she stands hushed By the pomp of her own despair. 

 --_Meredith_. 

Judge Merlin walked about, reasoning with himself all day; but he couldnot walk off his depression of spirits, or reason away his misgivings. 

He returned home in time to dress for dinner. He crept up to his chamberwith a wearied and stealthy air, for he was still dispirited anddesirous of avoiding a meeting with his daughter. 

He made his toilet and then sat down, resolved not to leave his chamberuntil the dinner-bell rang, so that he should run no risk of seeing heruntil he met her at dinner, where of course no allusion would be made tothe event of the morning. 

He took up the evening paper, that lay upon the dressing-table by somechance, and tried to read. But the words conveyed no meaning to hismind. 

"She is all I have in this world!" he sighed as he laid the paper down. 

"Papa!"

He looked up. 

There she stood within his chamber door! It was an unprecedentedintrusion. There she stood in her rich evening dress of purplemoire-antique, with the bandeau of diamonds encircling her night-blackhair. Two crimson spots like the flush of hectic fever burned in hercheeks, and her eyes were unnaturally bright and wild, almost like thoseof insanity. 

"Papa, may I come to you? Oh, papa, I have been waiting to speak to youall day; and it seems to me as if you had purposely kept out of my way. Are you displeased, papa? May I come to you now?"

He opened his arms, and she came and threw herself upon his bosom, sobbing as if her heart would break. 

"What is the matter, my darling?"

"Are you displeased, papa?"

"No, no, my darling! Why should I be? How could I be so unreasonable?But--do you love him, Claudia?"

"He will be an earl, papa. "

"Are you happy, Claudia?"

"I shall be a countess, papa!"

"But--are you happy, my dear, I ask you. "

"Happy? Who is? Who ever was?"

"Your mother and myself were happy, very happy during the ten blessedyears of our union. But then we loved each other, Claudia. Do you lovethis man whom you are about to make your husband?"

"Papa, I have consented to be his wife. Should not that satisfy you?"

"Certainly, certainly, my child! Besides, it is not for my rough, masculine hand to probe your heart. Your mother might do it if she wereliving, but not myself. "

"Papa, bless me! it was for that I came to you. Oh, give me yourblessing before I go downstairs to--him, whom I must henceforth meet asmy promised husband. "

"May the Lord bless and save you, my poor, motherless girl!" he said, laying his hand on her bowed head. 

And she arose, and without another word went below stairs. 

When she entered the drawing room she found the viscount there alone. Hehastened to meet her with gallant alacrity and pressed his lips to hers, but at their touch the color fled from her face and did not return. Withattentive courtesy Lord Vincent handed her to a seat and remainedstanding near, seeking to interest and amuse her with his conversation. But just as the tête-à-tête was growing unsupportable to Claudia, thedoor opened and Beatrice entered. Too many times had Bee come in uponjust such a tête-à-tête to suspect that there was anything more in thisone than there had been in any other for the last six months. So, unconscious of the recent betrothal of this pair, she, smiling, acceptedthe chair the viscount placed for her, and readily followed Claudia'slead, by allowing herself to be drawn into conversation. Several timesshe looked up at Claudia's face, noticing its marble whiteness; but atlength concluded that it must be only the effect of late hours, and sodropped the subject from her mind. 

Presently the other members of the family dropped in and the dinner wasserved. 

One vacant chair at the table attracted general attention. But, ah! toone there that seat was not vacant; it was filled with the specter ofher murdered truth. 

"Where is Mr. Worth?" inquired Mrs. Middleton, from the head of thetable. 

"Oh! worked himself into a nervous headache over Allenby's complicatedbrief! I told him how it would be if he applied himself sounintermittingly to business; but he would take no warning. Well, theseyoung enthusiasts must learn by painful experience to modify theirzeal, " said the judge, in explanation. 

Everyone expressed regret except Claudia, who understood and felt howmuch worse than any headache was the heart-sickness that had for the timemastered even Ishmael's great strength; but she durst utter no word ofsympathy. And the dinner proceeded to its conclusion. And directly afterthe coffee was served the viscount departed. 

Meanwhile Ishmael lay extended upon his bed, clasping his temples andwaging a silent war with his emotions. 

A rap disturbed him. 

"Come in. "

Powers entered with a tea tray in his hands, upon which was neatlyarranged a little silver tea-service, with a transparent white cup, saucer, and plate. The wax candle in its little silver candlestick thatsat upon the tray was the only light, and scarcely served to show theroom. 

Ishmael raised himself up just as Powers sat the tray upon the standbeside the bed. 

"Who has had leisure to think of me this evening?" thought Ishmael, ashe contemplated this unexpected attention. Then, speaking aloud, heinquired:

"Who sent me these, Powers?"

"Miss Middleton, sir; and she bade me to say to you that you must try toeat; and that it is a great mistake to fast when one has a nervousheadache, brought on by fatigue and excitement; and that the next bestthing to rest is food, and both together are a cure, " replied the man, carefully arranging the service on the stand. 

"I might have known it, " thought Ishmael, with an undefined feeling ofself-reproach. "I might have known that she would not forget me, eventhough I forgot myself. What would my life be at home without this dearlittle sister? Sweet sister! dear sister! Yes, I will follow her advice;I will eat and drink for her sake, because I know she will questionPowers and be disappointed if she finds that I have not done justice tothis repast. "

"Will you have more light, sir?" asked the footman. 

"No, no, thank you, " replied Ishmael, rising and seating himself in achair beside the stand. 

The tea was strong and fragrant, the cream rich, the sugar crystalline, and a single cup of the beverage refreshed him. The toast was crisp andyellow, the butter fresh, and the shavings of chipped beef crimson andtender. And so, despite his heartache and headache, Ishmael found hishealthy and youthful appetite stimulated by all this. And the meal thatwas begun for Bee's sake was finished for his own. 

"Tour head is better now, I hope, sir?" respectfully inquired Powers, ashe prepared to remove the service. 

"Much, thank you. Tell Miss Middleton so, with my respects, and say howgrateful I feel to her for this kind attention. "

"Yes, sir. "

"And, Powers, you may bring me lights now. "

And a few minutes later, when Powers had returned with two lightedcandles and placed them on the table, Ishmael, who knew that not an overtasked brain, but an undisciplined heart, was the secret of his malady, set himself to work as to a severe discipline, and worked away for threeor four hours with great advantage; for, when at twelve o'clock heretired to bed, he fell asleep and slept soundly until morning. 

That is what work did for Ishmael. And work will do as much for anyonewho will try it. 

It is true in the morning he awoke to a new sense of woe; but the dayhad also its work to discipline him. He breakfasted with Bee and herfather and the judge, who were the only members of the family present atthe table; and then he went to the City Hall, where he had anappointment with the District Attorney. 

That morning the engagement between Lord Vincent and Claudia wasformally announced to the family circle. And Bee understood the secretof Ishmael's sudden illness. The marriage was appointed to take place onthe first of the ensuing month, and so the preparations for the eventwere at once commenced. 

Mrs. Middleton and Claudia went to New York to order the wedding outfit. They were gone a week, and when they returned Claudia, though muchthinner in flesh, seemed to have recovered the gloom that had beenfrightened away by the viscount's first kiss. 

The great responsibility of the home preparations fell upon Bee. Thehouse had to be prepared for visitors; not only for the wedding guests;but also for friends and relatives of the family, who were coming from adistance and would remain for several days. For the last mentioned, newrooms had to be made ready. And all this was to be done under theimmediate supervision of Beatrice. 

As on two former occasions, Miss Merlin called in the aid of her threefavorite ministers--Vourienne, Devizae, and Dureezie. 

On the morning of the last day of June Vourienne and his assistantsdecorated the dining room. On the evening of the same day Devizae andhis waiters laid the table for the wedding breakfast. And then the roomwas closed up until the next day. While the family took their meals intheir small breakfast room. 

During the evening relatives from a distance arrived and were receivedby Bee, who conducted them to their rooms. 

By this inroad of visitors Bee herself, with the little sister whoshared her bed, were driven up into the attic to the plain spare roomnext to Ishmael's own. Here, early in the evening, as he sat at hiswork, he could hear Bee, who would not neglect little Lu for anythingelse in the world, rocking and singing her to sleep. And Ishmael, too, who had just laid down his pen because the waning light no longerenabled him to write, felt his great trouble soothed by Bee's song. 

CHAPTER LXIV. 

CLAUDIA'S WOE

 Ay, lady, here alone You may think till your heart is broken, Of the love that is dead and done, Of the days that with no token, For evermore are gone. 

 Weep, if you can, beseech you! There's no one by to curb you: His heart cry cannot reach you: His love will not disturb you: Weep?--what can weeping teach you?

 --_Meredith_. 

Sifting within the recess of the dormer window, soothed by the gatheringdarkness of the quiet, starlight night, and by the gentle cadences ofBee's low, melodious voice, as she sung her baby sister to sleep, Ishmael remained some little time longer, when suddenly Bee's songceased, and he heard her exclamation of surprise:

"Claudia, you up here! and already dressed for dinner! How well youlook! How rich that maize-colored brocade is! And how elegant that sprayof diamonds in your hair! I never saw you wear it before! Is it a newpurchase?"

"It is the viscount's present. I wear it this evening in his honor. "

"How handsome you are, Lady Vincent! You know I do not often flatter, but really, Claudia, all the artist in me delights to contemplate you. Inever saw you with such brilliant eyes, or such a beautiful color. "

"Brilliant eyes! beautiful color! Ha! ha! ha! the first frenzy, I think!The last--well, it ought to be beautiful. I paid ten dollars a scruplefor it at a wicked French shop in Broadway! And I have used the scrupleunscrupulously!" she cried, with a bitter laugh as of self-scorn. 

"Oh, Claudia--rouged!" said Bee, in a tone of surprise and pain. 

"Yes, rouged and powdered! why not? Why should the face be true when thelife is false! Oh, Bee, " she suddenly broke forth in a wail of anguish;"lay that child down and listen to me! I must tell someone, or my heartwill break!"

There was a movement, a low, muffling, hushing sound, that told theunwilling listener that Bee was putting her baby sister in the bed. Ishmael arose with the intention of leaving his room, and slipping outof hearing of the conversation that was not intended for his ears; bututterly overcome by the crowding emotions of his heart, he sank back inhis chair. 

He heard Bee return to her place. He heard Claudia throw herself down onthe floor by Bee's side, and say:

"Oh, let me lay my head down upon your lap, Bee!"

"Claudia, dear Claudia, what is the matter with you? What can I do foryou?"

"Receive my confidence, that is all. Hear my confession. I must tellsomebody or die. I wish I was a Catholic, and had a father confessor whowould hear me and comfort me, and absolve my sins, and keep my secrets!"

"Can any man stand in that relation to a woman except her father, if sheis single, or her husband, if she is married?" asked Bee. 

"I don't know--and I don't care! Only when I passed by St. Patrick'sChurch, with this load of trouble on my soul, I felt as if it would havedone me good to steal into one of those veiled recesses and tell thegood old father there!"

"You could have told your heavenly Father anywhere. "

"He knows it already; but I durst not pray to him! I am not so impiousas that either. I have not presumed to pray for a month--not since mybetrothal. "

"You have not presumed to pray. Oh, Claudia!"

"How should I dare to pray, after I had deliberately sold myself to thedemon--after I had deliberately determined to sin and take the wages ofsin?"

"Claudia! Oh, Heaven! You are certainly mad!"

"I know it; but the knowledge does not help me to the cure. I have beenmad a month!" Then breaking forth into a wail of woe, she cried: "Oh, Bee! I do not love that man! I do not love him! and the idea of marryinghim appalls my very soul!"

"Good Heaven, Claudia, then why--" begun Bee, but Claudia fiercelycontinued:

"I loathe him! I sicken at him! His first kiss! Oh, Bee! the cold, clammy touch of those lips struck all the color from my face forever, Ithink! I loathe him!"

"Oh, Claudia, Claudia, why, in the name of all that is wise and good, do you do yourself, and him, too, such a terrible wrong as to marryhim?" inquired the deeply-shocked maiden. 

"Because I must! Because I will! I have deliberately determined to be apeeress of England, and I will be one, whatever the cost. "

"But oh! have you thought of the deadly sin--the treachery, the perjury, the sacrilege; oh! and the dreadful degradation of such a lovelessmarriage?"

"Have I thought of these things--these horrors? Yes; witness thistortured heart and racked brain of mine!"

"Then why, oh, why, Claudia, do you persevere?"

"I am in the vortex of the whirlpool, and cannot stop myself!"

"Then let me stop you. My weak hand is strong enough for that. Remainhere, dear Claudia. Let me go downstairs and report that you are ill, asindeed and in truth you are. The marriage can be delayed, and then youcan have an explanation with the viscount, and break it off altogether. "

"And break my plighted faith! Is that your advice, young moralist?"

"There was no faith in your plighted word, Claudia. It was very wrong topromise to marry a man you could not love; but it would be criminal tokeep such a promise. Speak candidly to his lordship, Claudia, and askhim to release you from your engagement. My word on it he will do it. "

"Of course, and make me the town talk for the delight of all who envyme. "

"Better be that than an unloving wife. "

"No, Bee! I must fulfill my destiny. And, besides, I never thought ofturning from it. I am in the power of the whirlpool or the demon. "

"It is the demon--the demon that is carrying you down into thiswhirlpool. And the name of the demon is Ambition, Claudia; and the nameof the whirlpool is Ruin. "

"Yes! it is ambition that possesses my soul. None other but the sins bywhich angels fell would have power to draw my soul down from heaven--forheaven was possible to me, once!" And with these last words she meltedinto tears and wept as if the fountains of her heart were broken up andgushing through her eyes. 

"Yes, " she repeated in the pauses of her weeping. "Heaven was possiblefor me once! Never more, oh, never, never more! Filled with theambition of Lucifer I have cast myself out of that heaven. But alas!alas! I have Lucifer's ambition without his strength to suffer. "

"Claudia, dear Claudia!"

"Do not speak to me. Let me speak, for I must speak, or die! It is notonly that I do not love this viscount, but, oh, Bee!" she wailed in theprolonged tones of unutterable woe, "I love another! I love Ishmael!"

There was a sudden movement and a fall. 

"You push me from you! Oh, cruel friend! Let me lay my head upon yourlap again, Bee, and sob out all this anguish here. I must, or my heartwill burst. I love Ishmael! His love is the heaven of heavens from whichAmbition has cast me down. I love Ishmael! Oh, how much, my reason, utterly overthrown, may some time betray to the world! This love fillsmy soul. Oh, more than that, it is greater than my soul; it goes beyondit, into infinitude! There is light, warmth, and life where Ishmael is;darkness, coldness, and death where he is not! To meet his eyes, --thosebeautiful, dark, luminous eyes, that seem like inlets to some perfectinner world of wisdom, love, and pure joy; or to lay my hand in his, andfeel that soft, strong, elastic hand close upon mine, --gives me a momentof such measureless content, such perfect assurance of peace, that forthe time I forget all the sin and horror that envelopes and curses mylife. But to be his beloved wife--oh, Bee! I cannot imagine in the lifeof heaven a diviner happiness!"

A low, half-suppressed cry from Bee. And Claudia continued:

"It is a love that all which is best in my nature approves. For oh, whois like Ishmael? Who so wise, so good, so useful? Morally, intellectually, and physically beautiful! an Apollo! more than that, aChristian gentleman! He is human, and yet he appears to me to beperfectly faultless. "

There was a pause and a low sound of weeping, broken at last by Claudia, who rustled up to her feet, saying:

"There, it is past!"

"Claudia, " said Bee solemnly, "you must not let this marriage go on; todo so would be to commit the deadliest sin!"

"I have determined to commit it, then, Bee. "

"Claudia, if I saw you on the brink of endless woe, would I not bejustified in trying to pluck you back? Oh, Claudia, dear cousin, pause, reflect--"

"Bee, hush! I have reflected until my brain has nearly burst. I mustfulfill my destiny. I must be a peeress of England, cost what it may insin against others, or in suffering to myself. "

"Oh, what an awful resolution! and what an awful defiance! Ah, what haveyou invoked upon your head!"

"I know not--the curse of Heaven, perhaps!"

"Claudia!"

"Be silent, Bee!"

"I must not, cannot, will not, be silent! My hand is weak, but it shallgrasp your arm to hold you back; my voice is low, but it shall be raisedin remonstrance with you. You may break from my hold; you may deafenyourself to my words; you may escape me so; but it will be to castyourself into--"

"Lawyer Vivian's 'gulf of perdition'! Is that what you mean? Nonsense, Bee. My hysterics are over now; my hour of weakness is past; I am myselfagain. And I feel that I shall be Lady Vincent--the envy of Washington, the admiration of London, the only titled lady of the republican court, and the only beauty at St. James!" said Claudia, rustling a deepcourtesy. 

"Claudia--"

"And in time I shall be Countess of Hurstmonceux, and perhaps after awhile Marchioness of Banff; for Vincent thinks if the Conservatives comein his father will be raised a step in the peerage. "

"And is it for that you sell yourself? Oh, Claudia, how Satan fools you!Be rational; consider: what is it to be a countess, or even amarchioness? It is 'distance lends enchantment to the view. ' Here inthis country, where, thank the Lord, there is no hereditary rank, --notitles and no coronets, --these things, from their remoteness, impressyour imagination, and disturb your judgment. You will not feel so inEngland; there, where there are hundreds and thousands of titledpersonages, your coveted title will sink to its proper level, and youwill find yourself of much less importance in London as Lady Vincent, than you are in Washington as Miss Merlin. There you will find howlittle you have really gained by the sacrifice of truth, honor, andpurity; all that is best in your woman's nature--all that is best inyour earthly, yes, and your eternal life. "

"Bee, have you done?"

"No. You have given me two reasons why I think you ought not to marrythe viscount: first, because you do not love him, and secondly, becauseyou do love--someone else. And now I will give you two more reasons whyyou should not marry him--viz. , first, because he is not a good man, and, secondly, because he does not love you. There!" said Beatricefirmly. 

"Bee, how dare you say that! What should you know of his character? Andwhy should you think he does not love me?"

"I feel that he is not a good man; so do you, I will venture to say, Claudia. And I know that he marries you for some selfish or mercenarymotive--your money, possibly. And so also do you know it, Claudia, Idare to affirm. "

"Have you anything more to say?"

"Only this: to beg, to pray, to urge you not to sin--not to debaseyourself! Oh, Claudia, if loving Ishmael as you profess to do, andloathing the viscount as you confess you do, and knowing that he caresnothing for you, you still marry him for his title and his rank, as youadmit you will--Claudia! Claudia! in the pure sight of angels you willbe more guilty, and less pardonable than the poor lost creatures of thepavement, whose shadow you would scarcely allow to fall across yourpath!"

"Bee, you insult, you offend, you madden me! If this be so--if you speakthe truth--I cannot help it, and I do not care. I am ambitious. If Iimmolate all my womanly feelings to become a peeress, it is as I wouldcertainly and ruthlessly destroy everything that stood in my way tobecome a queen, if that were possible. "

"Good heavens, Claudia! are you then really a fiend in female form?"exclaimed the dismayed girl. 

"I do not know. I may be so. I think Satan has taken possession of mesince my betrothal. At least I feel that I could be capable of greatcrimes to secure great ends, " said Claudia recklessly. 

"And, oh, Heaven! the opportunity will be surely afforded you, if you donot repent. Satan takes good care to give his servants the fullestfreedom to develop their evil. Oh, Claudia, for the love of Heaven, stopwhere you are! go no further. Your next step on this sinful road maymake retreat impossible. Break off this marriage at once. Better thebroken troth--better the nine days' wonder--than the perjured bride, andthe loveless, sinful nuptials! You said you were ambitious. Claudia!"here Bee's voice grew almost inaudible from intense passion--"Claudia!you do not know--you cannot know what it costs me to say what I am aboutto say to you now; but--I will say it: You love Ishmael. Well, he lovesyou--ah! far better than you love him, or than you are capable of lovinganyone. For you all his toils have been endured, all his laurels won. Claudia! be proud of this great love; it is a hero's love--a poet'slove. Claudia! you have received much adulation in your life, and youwill receive much more; but you never have received, and you never will, so high an honor as you have in Ishmael's love. It is a crown of gloryto your life. You are ambitious! Well, wait for him; give him a fewshort years and he will attain honors, not hereditary, but all his own. He will reach a position that the proudest woman may be proud to share;and his wife shall take a higher rank among American matrons than thewife of a mere nobleman can reach in England. And his untitled name, like that of Cæsar, shall be a title in itself. "

"Bee! Bee! you wring my heart in two. You drive me mad. It cannot be, Itell you! It can never be. He may rise--there is no doubt but that hewill! But let him rise ever so high, I cannot be his wife--his wife!Horrible! I came of a race of which all the men were brave, and all thewomen pure! And he--"

"Is braver than the bravest man of your race! purer than the purestwoman!" interrupted Bee fervently. 

"He is the child of shame, and his heritage is dishonor! He bears hismother's maiden name, and she was--the scorn of his sex and the reproachof ours! And this is the man you advise me, Claudia Merlin, whose handis sought in marriage by the heir of one of the oldest earldoms inEngland, to marry! Bee, the insult is unpardonable! You might as welladvise me to marry my father's footman! and better, for Powers came atleast of honest parents!" said Claudia, speaking in the mad, reckless, defiant way in which those conscious of a bad argument passionatelydefend their point. 

For a few moments Bee seemed speechless with indignation. Then she burstforth vehemently:

"It is false! as false as the Father of Falsehood himself! When thornsproduce figs, or the deadly nightshade nectarines; when eaglets arehatched in owls' nests and young lions spring from rat holes, then I maybelieve these foul slanders of Ishmael and his parents. Shame on you, Claudia Merlin, for repeating them! You have shown me much evil in yourheart to-night; but nothing so bad as that! Ishmael is nature'sgentleman! His mother must have been pure and lovely and loving! hisfather good and wise and brave! else how could they have given this sonto the world! And did you forget, Claudia, when you spoke those cruelwords of him, did you forget that only a little while ago you admittedthat you loved him, and that all which was best in your nature approvedthat love?"

"No, I did not and do not forget it! It was and it is true! But what ofthat? I may not be able to help adoring him for his personal excellence!But to be his wife--the wife of a--Horrible!"

"Have you forgotten, Claudia, that only a few minutes ago you said thatyou could not conceive of a diviner happiness than to be the belovedwife of Ishmael?"

"No, I have not forgotten it! And I spoke the truth! but that joy whichI could so keenly appreciate can never, never be mine! And that is thesecret of my madness--for I am mad, Bee! And, oh, I came here to-nightwith my torn and bleeding heart--torn and bleeding from the dreadfulbattle between love and pride--came here with my suffering heart; mysinful heart if you will; and laid it on your bosom to be soothed; andyou have taken it and flung it back in my face! You have broken thebruised reed; quenched the smoking flax; humbled the humble; smitten thefallen! Oh, Bee, you have been more cruel than you know! Good-by!Good-by!" And she turned and flung herself out of the room. 

"Claudia, dear Claudia, oh, forgive me! I did not mean to wound you; ifI spoke harshly it was because I felt for both! Claudia, come back, love!" cried Bee, hurrying after her; but Claudia was gone. Bee wouldhave followed her; but little Lu's voice was heard in plaintive notes. Bee returned to the room to find her little sister lying awake withwide-open, frightened eyes. 

"Oh, Bee! don't do! and don't let she tome bat. She stares Lu!"

"Shall Bee take Lu up and rock her to sleep?"

"'Es. "

Bee gently lifted the little one and sat down in the rocking-chair andbegan to rock slowly and sing softly. But presently she stopped andwhispered:

"Baby!"

"'Es, Bee. "

"Do you love cousin Claudia?"

"'Es, but she wates me up and stares me; don't let she tome adain, Bee. "

"No, I will not; but poor Claudia is not happy; won't you ask the Lordto bless poor Claudia? He hears little children like you!"

"'Es; tell me what to say, Bee. " And without another word the little oneslid down upon her knees and folded her hands, while Bee taught thesinless child to pray for the sinful woman. 

And then she took the babe again upon her lap, and rocked slowly andsung softly until she soothed her to sleep. 

Then Bee arose and rustled softly about the room, making her simpletoilet before going to the saloon to join the guests. 

CHAPTER LXV. 

ISHMAEL'S WOE. 

 And with another's crime, my birth She taunted me as little worth, Because, forsooth, I could not claim The lawful heirship of my name; Yet were a few short summers mine, My name should more than ever shine, With honors all my own!

 --_Byron_. 

Ishmael sat in the shadows of his room overwhelmed with shame and sorrowand despair. He had heard every cruel word; they had entered his earsand pierced his heart. And not only for himself he bowed his head andsorrowed and despaired, but for her; for her, proud, selfish, sinful, but loving, and oh, how fatally beloved!

It was not only that he worshiped her with a blind idolatry, and knewthat she returned his passion with equal strength and fervor, and thatshe would have waited for him long years, and married him at last butfor the cloud upon his birth. It was not this--not his own misery thatcrushed him, nor even her present wretchedness that prostrated him--no!but it was the awful, shapeless shadow of some infinite unutterable woeis Claudia's future, and into which she was blindly rushing, thatoverwhelmed him. Oh, to have saved her from this woe, he would gladlyhave laid down his life!

The door opened and Jim, his especial waiter, entered with two lightedcandles on a tray. He sat them on the table and was leaving the room, when Ishmael recalled him. What I am about to relate is a trifleperhaps, but it will serve to show the perfect beauty of that naturewhich, in the midst of its own great sorrow, could think of the smallwants of another. 

"Jim, you asked me this morning to write a letter for you, to yourmother, I think. "

"Yes, Master Ishmael, I thank you, sir; whenever you is at leisure, sir, with nothing to do; which I wouldn't presume to be in a hurry, sir, norlikewise inconvenience you the least in the world. "

"It will not inconvenience me, Jim; it will give me pleasure, wheneveryou can spare me half an hour, " replied Ishmael, speaking with as muchcourtesy to the poor dependent as he would have used in addressing hiswealthiest patron. 

"Well, Master Ishmael, which I ought to say Mr. Worth, and I beg yourpardon, sir, only it is the old love as makes me forget myself, and callyou what I used to in the old days, because Mr. Worth do seem to leaveme so far away--"

"Call me what you please, Jim, we are old friends, and I love my oldfriends better than any new distinctions that could come between us, butwhich I will never allow to separate us. What were you about to say, Jim?"

"Well, Master Ishmael, and I thank you sincere, sir, for letting of mecall you so, I was going for to say, as I could be at your orders anytime, even now, if it would suit you, sir; because I have lighted up allmy rooms and set my table for dinner, which it is put back an hourbecause of Master Walter, who is expected by the six o'clock train thisevening; and Sam is waiting in the hall, and I aint got anything verypartic'lar to do for the next hour or so. "

"Very well, Jim; sit down in that chair and tell me what you want me towrite, " said Ishmael, seating himself before his desk and dipping hispen in ink. 

Yes, it was a small matter in itself; but it was characteristic of theman, thus to put aside his own poignant anguish to interest himself inthe welfare of the humblest creature who invoked his aid. 

"Now then, Jim. "

"Well, Master Ishmael, " said the poor fellow. "You know what to say aheap better'n I do. Write it beautiful, please. "

"Tell me what is in your heart, Jim, and then I will do the best I can, "said Ishmael, who possessed the rare gift of drawing out from others thebest that was in their thoughts. 

"Well, sir, I think a heap o' my ole mother, I does; 'membering how shedid foh me when I was a boy and wondering if anybody does for her now, and if she is comfortable down there at Tanglewood. And I wants her toknow it; and not to be a-thinking as I forgets her. "

Ishmael wrote rapidly for a few moments and then looked up. 

"What else, Jim?"

"Well, sir, tell her as I have saved a heap of money for her out'n thepresents the gemmen made me o' Christmas, and I'll bring it to her whenI come down--which the ole 'oman do love money, sir, better than she doanything in this world, 'cept it is me and old marster and Miss Claudia. And likewise what she wants me to bring her from town, and whether shewould like a red gownd or a yallow one. "

Ishmael set down this and looked up. 

"Well, Jim?"

"Well, sir, tell her how she aint got no call to be anxious nor likewisestressed in her mind, nor lay 'wake o' nights thinking 'bout me, fear Ishould heave myself 'way, marrying of these yer trifling city gals asdon't know a spinning wheel from a harrow. And how I aint seen nobodyyet as I like better'n my ole mother and the young lady of color as sheknows 'bout and 'proves of; which, sir, it aint nobody else but your ownrespected aunt, Miss Hannah's Miss Sally, as lives at Woodside. "

"I have put all that down, Jim. "

"Well, sir, and about the grand wedding as is to be to-morrow, sir; andhow the Bishop of Maryland is going to 'form the ceremony; and how thehappy pair be going to go on a grand tower, and then going to visitTanglewood afore they parts for the old country; and how she will see arale, livin' lord as she'll be 'stonished to see look so like any otherman; and last ways how Miss Claudia do talk about taking me and MissSally along of her to foreign parts, because she prefers to be waited onby colored ladies and gentlemen 'fore white ones; and likewise how Iwould wish to go and see the world, only I won't go, nor likewise wouldMiss Claudia wish to take me, if the ole 'oman wishes otherwise. "

Ishmael wrote and then looked up. Poor Jim, absorbed in his own affairs, did not notice how pale the writer's face had grown, or suspect howoften during the last few minutes he had stabbed him to the heart. 

"Well, sir, that is about all I think, Master Ishmael. Only, please, sir, put it all down in your beautiful language as makes the ladies crywhen you gets up and speaks afore the great judges theirselves. "

"I will do my best, Jim. "

"Thank you, sir. And please sign my name to it, not yourn--myname--James Madison Monroe Mortimer. "

"Yes, Jim. "

"And please direct it to Mistress Catherine Maria Mortimer, most ingeneral called by friends, Aunt Katie, as is housekeeper at Tanglewood. "

Ishmael complied with his requests as far as discretion permitted. 

"And now, sir, please read it all out aloud to me, so I can hear how itsound. "

Ishmael complied with this request also, and read the letter aloud, tothe immense delight of Jim, who earnestly expressed his approbation inthe emphatic words:

"Now--that--is--beautiful! Thank y', sir! That is ekal to anything asever I heard out'n the pulpit--and sides which, sir, it is all true, true as gospel, sir. It is just exactly what I thinks and how I feelsand what I wants to say, only I aint got the words. Won't mother beproud o' that letter nyther? Why, laws, sir, the ole 'oman 'll get theminister to read that letter. And then she'll make everybody as comes tothe house as can read, read it over and over again for the pride shetakes in it, till she'll fairly know it all by heart, " etc. , etc. , etc. 

For Jim went on talking and smiling and covering the writer all overwith gratitude and affection, until he was interrupted by the stoppingof a carriage, the ringing of a door bell, and the sound of a suddenarrival. 

"There's Master Walter Middleton now, as sure as the world! I must run!Dinner'll be put on the table soon's ever he's changed his dress. I'm athousand times obleeged to you, sir. I am, indeed, everlasting obleeged!I wish I could prove it some way. Mother'll be so pleased. " And talkingall the way downstairs, Jim took himself and his delight away. 

Ishmael sighed, and arose to dress for dinner. His kindness had notbeen without its reward. The little divertisement of Jim's letter haddone him good. Blessed little offices of loving-kindness--whatministering angels are they to the donor as well as the receiver! Withsome degree of self-possession Ishmael completed his toilet and turnedto leave the room, when the sound of someone rushing up the stairs likea storm arrested his steps. 

Then a voice sounded outside:

"Which is Ishmael's room? Bother! Oh, here it is!" and Bee's door wasopened. "No! calico! Ah! now I'm right. "

And the next instant Walter Middleton burst open the door and rushed in, exclaiming joyfully, as he seized and shook the hands of his friend:

"Ah, here you are, old fellow! God bless you! How glad I am to see you!You are still the first love of my heart, Ishmael. Damon, your Pythiashas not even a sweetheart to dispute your empire over him. How are you?I have heard of your success. Wasn't is glorious! You're a splendidfellow, Ishmael, and I'm proud of you. You may have Bee, if you wanther. I always thought there was a bashful kindness between you two. Andthere isn't a reason in the world why you shouldn't have her. And so herRoyal Highness, the Princess Claudia, has caught a Lord, has she? Well, you know she always said she would, and she has kept her word. But, Isay, how are you? How do you wear your honors? How do the toga and thebays become you? Turn around and let us have a look at you. " And so theaffectionate fellow rattled on, shaking both Ishmael's hands every othersecond, until he had talked himself fairly out of breath. 

"And how are you, dear Walter? But I need not ask; you look so well andhappy, " said Ishmael, as soon as he could get in a word. 

"Me? Oh, I'm well enough. Nought's never in danger. I've just graduated, you know; with the highest honors, they say. My thesis won the greatprize; that was because you were not in the same class, you know. I havemy diploma in my pocket; I'm an M. D. ; I can write myself doctor, andpoison people, without danger of being tried for murder! isn't that aprivilege? Now let my enemies take care of themselves! Why don't youcongratulate me, you--"

"I do, with all my heart and soul, Walter!"

"That's right! only I had to drag it from you. Well, so I'm to be 'bestman' to this noble bridegroom. Too much honor. I am not prepared for it. One cannot get ready for graduating and marrying at the same time. Idon't think I have got a thing fit to wear. I wrote to Bee to buy mesome fine shirts, and some studs, and gloves, and handkerchiefs, andhair oil, and things proper for the occasion. I wonder if she did?"

"I don't know. I know that she has been overwhelmed with care for thelast month, too much care for a girl, so it is just possible that shehas had no opportunity. Indeed, she has a great deal to think of and todo. "

"Oh, it won't hurt her; especially if it consists of preparations forthe wedding. "

A bell rang. 

"There now, Ishmael, there is that diabolical dinner-bell! You may look, but it is true: a dinner-bell that peals out at seven o'clock in theevening is a diabolical dinner-bell. At college we dine at twelvemeridian, sharp, and sup at six. It is dreadful to sit at table a wholehour, and be bored by seeing other people eat, and pretending to eatyourself, when you are not hungry. Well, there's no help for it. Comedown and be bored, Ishmael. "

They went down into the drawing room, where quite a large circle of nearfamily connections were assembled. 

Walter Middleton was presented to the Viscount Vincent, who was the onlystranger, to him, present. 

Claudia was there, looking as calm, as self-possessed and queenly, as ifshe had not passed through a storm of passion two hours before. 

Ishmael glanced at her and saw the change with amazement, but he darednot trust himself to look again. 

The dinner party, with all this trouble under the surface, passed off insuperficial gayety. The guests separated early, because the followingmorning would usher in the wedding day. 

CHAPTER LXVI. 

THE MARRIAGE MORNING. 

 I trust that never more in this world's shade Thine eyes will be upon me: never more Thy face come back to me. For thou hast made My whole life sore. Fare hence, and be forgotten.... Sing thy song, And braid thy brow, And be beloved and beautiful--and be In beauty baleful still ... A Serpent Queen To others not yet curst in loving thee As I have been!

 --_Meredith_. 

Ishmael awoke. After a restless night, followed by an hour't completeforgetfulness, that more nearly resembled the swoon of exhaustion thanthe sleep of health, Ishmael awoke to a new sense of wretchedness. 

You who have suffered know what such awakenings are. You have seensomeone dearer than life die; but hours, days, or weeks of expectationhave gradually prepared you for the last scene; and though you have seenthe dear one die, and though you have wept yourself half blind and halfdead, you have slept the sleep of utter oblivion, which is like death;but you have at last awakened and returned to consciousness to meet theshock of memory and the sense of sorrow a thousand times moreoverwhelming than the first blow of bereavement had been. 

Or you have been for weeks looking forward to the parting of one whosepresence is the very light of your days. And in making preparations forthat event the thought of coming separation has been somewhat dulled;but at last all is ready; the last night has come; you all separate andgo to bed, with the mutual injunction to be up early in the morning forthe sake of seeing "him"--it may be some brave volunteer going towar--off; after laying awake nearly all night you suddenly drop intoutter forgetfulness of impending grief, and into some sweet dream ofpleasantness and peace. You awake with a start; the hour has come; thehour of parting; the hour of doom. 

Yes, whatever the grief may be, it is in the hour of such awakenings wefeel it most poignantly. 

Thus it was with Ishmael. The instant he awoke the spear of memorytransfixed his soul. He could have cried out in his agony. It took allhis manhood to control his pain. He arose and dressed himself andoffered up his morning worship and went to the breakfast room, resolvedto pass through the day's fiery ordeal, cost what it might. 

Claudia was not at breakfast. In fact, she seldom or never appeared atthe breakfast table; and this morning of all mornings it was quitenatural she should be absent. But Mrs. Middleton and Bee, Judge Merlin, Mr. Middleton, Mr. Brudenell, Walter, and Ishmael were present. It wasin order that people should be merry on a marriage morning; but somehowor other that order was not followed. Judge Merlin, Mrs. Middleton, andBee were unusually grave and silent; Mr. Brudenell was always sad;Ishmael was no conventional talker, and therefore could not seem otherthan he was--very serious. It was quite in vain that Mr. Middleton andWalter tried to get up a little jesting and badinage. And when theconstraint of the breakfast table was over everyone felt relieved. 

"Remember, " said Mrs. Middleton, with her hand upon the back of herchair, "that the carriages will be at the door at half-past ten; it isnow half-past nine. "

"And that means that we have but an hour to get on our weddinggarments, " said Walter. "Bee, have you got my finery ready?"

"You will find everything you require laid out on your bed, Walter. "

"You are the best little sister that ever was born. I doubt whether Ishall let Ishmael, or anyone else, hate you until I get a wife of myown; and even then I don't know but what I shall want you home to lookafter her and the children!" rattled Walter, careless or unobservant ofthe deep blush that mantled the maiden's face. 

"Ishmael, " said the judge, "I wish you to take the fourth seat in thecarriage with myself and daughter and Beatrice. Will you do so?"

Ishmael's emotions nearly choked him, but he answered:

"Certainly, if you wish. "

"The four bridesmaids will fill the second carriage, and Mr. And Mrs. Middleton, Mr. Brudenell and Walter the third, I do not know thearrangements made for our other friends; but I dare say it is all right. Oh, Ishmael, I feel as though we were arranging a procession to thegrave instead of the altar, " he added, with a heavy sigh. Thencorrecting himself, he said: "But this is all very morbid. So no more ofit. "

And the judge wrung Ishmael's hand; and each went his separate way todress for the wedding. 

Meanwhile the bride-elect sat alone in her luxurious dressing room. 

Around her, scattered over tables, chairs, and stands, lay the splendidparaphernalia of her bridal array--rich dresses, mantles, bonnets, veils, magnificent shawls, sparkling jewels, blooming flowers, intoxicating perfumes. 

On the superb malachite stand beside her stood a silver tray, on whichwas arranged an elegant breakfast service of Bohemian china. But thebreakfast was untasted and forgotten. 

There was no one to watch her; she had sent her maid away with ordersnot to return until summoned by her bell. 

And now, while her coffee unheeded grew cold, she sat, leaning forwardin her easy-chair, with her hands tightly clasped together over herknees, her tumbled black ringlets fallen down upon her dressing gown, and her eyes flared open and fixed in a dreadful stare upon the fardistance as if spellbound by some horror there. 

To have seen her thus, knowing that she was a bride-elect, you mighthave judged that she was about to be forced into some loathed marriage, from which her whole tortured nature revolted. 

And you would have judged truly. She was being thus forced into such amarriage, not by any tyrannical parent or guardian, for flesh and bloodcould not have forced Claudia Merlin into any measure she had set herwill against. She was forced by the demon Pride, who had takenpossession of her soul. 

And now she sat alone with her sin, dispossessed of all her better self, face to face with her lost soul. 

She was aroused by the entrance of Mrs. Middleton--Mrs. Middleton infull carriage-dress--robe and mantle of mauve-colored moire-antique, awhite lace bonnet with mauve-colored flowers, and white kid glovesfinished at the wrists with mauve ribbon quillings. 

"Why, Claudia, is it possible? Not commenced dressing yet, and everybodyelse ready, and the clock on the stroke of ten! What have you beenthinking of, child?"

Claudia started like one suddenly aroused from sleep, threw her handsto her face as if to clear away a mist, and looked around. 

But Mrs. Middleton had hurried to the door and was calling:

"Here, Alice! Laura! 'Gena! Lotty! Where are you?"

Receiving no answer, she flew to the bell and rang it and broughtClaudia's maid to the room. 

"Ruth, hurry to the young ladies' room and give my compliments, and askthem to come here as soon as possible! Miss Merlin is not yet dressed. "

The girl went on her errand and Mrs. Middleton turned again to Claudia:

"Not even eaten your breakfast yet. Oh, Claudia!" and she poured out acup of coffee and handed it to her niece. 

And Claudia drank it, because it was easier to do so than toexpostulate. 

At the moment that Claudia returned the cup the door opened and the fourbridesmaids entered--all dressed in floating, cloud-like, misty whitetulle, and crowned with wreaths of white roses and holding bouquets ofthe same. 

They laid down their bouquets, drew on their white gloves and flutteredaround the bride and with their busy fingers quickly dressed herluxuriant black hair, and arrayed her stately form in her superb bridaldress. 

This dress was composed of an under-skirt of the richest white satin andan upper robe of the finest Valenciennes lace looped up with bunches oforange flowers. A bertha of lace fell over the satin bodice. And a longveil of lace flowed from the queenly head down to the tiny foot. Awreath of orange flowers, sprinkled over with the icy dew of smalldiamonds, crowned her black ringlets. And diamonds adorned her neck, bosom, arms, and stomacher. Her bouquet holder was studded withdiamonds, and her initials on the white velvet cover of her prayer-bookwere formed of tiny seed-like diamonds. 

No sovereign queen on her bridal morn was ever more richly arrayed. But, oh, how deadly pale and cold she was!

"There!" they said triumphantly, when they had finished dressing her, even to the arranging of the bouquet of orange flowers in its costlyholder and putting it in her hand. "There!" And they wheeled the tallPsyche mirror up before her, that she might view and admire herself. 

She looked thoughtfully at the image reflected there. She looked so longthat Mrs. Middleton, growing impatient, said:

"My love, it is time to go. "

"Leave me alone for a few minutes, all of you! I will not keep youwaiting long, " said Claudia. 

"She wishes to be alone to offer up a short prayer before going to bemarried, " was the thought in the heart of each one of the party, as theyfiled out of the room. 

Did Claudia wish to pray? Did she intend to ask God's protection againstevil? Did she dare to ask his blessing on the act she contemplated?

We shall see. 

She went after the last retreating figure and closed and bolted thedoor. Then she returned to her dressing bureau, opened a little secretdrawer and took from it a tiny jar of rouge, and with a piece ofcotton-wool applied it to her deathly-white cheeks until she hadproduced there an artificial bloom, more brilliant than that of herhappiest days, only because it was more brilliant than that of nature. Then to soften its fire she powdered her face with pearl white, andfinally with a fine handkerchief carefully dusted off the superfluousparticles. 

Having done this, she put away her cosmetics and took from the samereceptacle a vial of the spirits of lavender and mixed a spoonful of itwith water and drank it off. 

Then she returned the vial to its place and locked up the secret drawerwhere she kept her deceptions. 

She gave one last look at the mirror, saw that between the artificialbloom and the artificial stimulant her face presented a passablecounterfeit of its long-lost radiance; she drew her bridal veil aroundso as to shade it a little, lowered her head and raised her bouquet, that her friends might not see the suspicious suddenness of thetransformation from deadly pallor to living bloom--for though Claudia, in an hour of hysterical passion, had discovered this secret of hertoilet to Beatrice, yet she was really ashamed of it, and wished toconceal it from all others. 

She opened the door, went out, and joined her friends in the hall, saying with a cheerfulness that she had found in the lavender vial:

"I am quite ready for the show now!"

But she kept her head lowered and averted, for a little while, though infact her party were too much excited to scrutinize her appearance, especially as they had had a good view of her while making her toilet. 

They went down into the drawing room, where the family and their nearestrelations were assembled and waiting for them. 

Bee was there, looking lovely as usual. Bee, who almost always worewhite when in full dress, now varied from her custom by wearing a glacésilk of delicate pale blue, with a white lace mantle and a white lacebonnet and veil. Bee did this because she did not mean to be musteredinto the bride's service, or even mistaken by any person for one of thebridesmaids. Beyond her obligatory presence in the church as one of thebride's family, Bee was resolved to have nothing to do with thesacrilegious marriage. 

"Come, my dear! Are you ready? How beautiful you are, my Claudia! Inever paid you a compliment before, my child; but surely I may beexcused for doing so now that you are about to leave me! 'How blessingsbrighten as they take their flight, '" whispered the judge, as he met andkissed his daughter. 

And certainly Claudia's beauty seemed perfectly dazzling this morning. She smiled a greeting to all her friends assembled there, and then gaveher hand to her father, who drew it within his arm and led her to thecarriage. 

Ishmael, like one in a splendid, terrible dream, from which he could notwake, in which he was obliged to act, went up to Bee and drew her littlewhite-gloved hand under his arm, and led her after the father anddaughter. 

The other members of the marriage party followed in order. 

Besides Judge Merlin's brougham and Mr. Middleton's barouche, there wereseveral other carriages drawn up before the house. 

Bee surveyed this retinue and murmured:

"Indeed, except that we all wear light colors instead of black, and thecoachmen have no hat-scarfs, this looks quite as much like a funeral asa wedding. "

Ishmael did not reply; he could not wake from the dazzling, horribledream. 

When they were seated in the carriage, Claudia and Beatrice occupied theback seat; the judge and Ishmael the front one; the judge sat oppositeBee, and Ishmael opposite Claudia. 

The rich drifts of shining white satin and misty white lace that formedher bridal dress floated around him; her foot inadvertently touched his, and her warm, balmy breath passed him. Never had he been so close toClaudia before; that carriage was so confined and crowded--dreadproximity! The dream deepened; it became a trance--that strange trancethat sometimes falls upon the victim in the midst of his sufferings heldIshmael's faculties in abeyance and deadened his sense of pain. 

And indeed the same spell, though with less force, acted upon all theparty in that carriage. Its mood was expectant, excited, yet dream-like. There was scarcely any conversation. There seldom is under suchcircumstances. Once the judge inquired:

"Bee, my dear, how is it that you are not one of Claudia's bridesmaids?"

"I did not wish to be, and Claudia was so kind as to excuse me, "Beatrice replied. 

"But why not, my love? I thought young ladies always liked to fill suchpositions. "

Bee blushed and lowered her head, but did not reply. 

Claudia answered for her:

"Beatrice does not like Lord Vincent; and does not approve of themarriage, " she said defiantly. 

"Humph!" exclaimed the judge, and not another word was spoken during thedrive. 

It was a rather long one. The church selected for the performance of themarriage rites being St. John's, at the west end of the town, where thebridegroom and his friends were to meet the bride and her attendants. 

They reached the church at last; the other carriages arrived a fewseconds after them, and the whole party alighted and went in. 

The bridegroom and his friends were already there. And the bridalprocession formed and went up the middle aisle to the altar, where thebishop in his sacerdotal robes stood ready to perform the ceremony. 

The bridal party formed before the altar, the bishop opened the book, and the ceremony commenced. It proceeded according to the ritual, andwithout the slightest deviation from commonplace routine. 

When the bishop came to that part of the rites in which he utters theawful adjuration--"I require and charge you both, as ye shall answer atthe dreadful day of judgment, when the secrets of all hearts shall bedisclosed, that if either of you know any impediment why ye may not belawfully joined together in matrimony, ye do now confess it. For be yewell assured, that if any persons are joined together, otherwise thanGod's word doth allow, their marriage is not lawful, "--Bee, who wasstanding with her mother and father near the bridal circle, looked up atthe bride. 

Oh, could Claudia, loving another, loathing the bridegroom, kneel inthat sacred church, before that holy altar, in the presence of God'sminister, in the presence of God himself, hear that solemn adjuration, and persevere in her awful sin?

Yes, Claudia could! as tens of thousands, from ignorance, frominsensibility, or from recklessness, have done before her; and as tensof thousands more, from the same causes, will do after her. 

The ceremony proceeded until it reached the part where the ring isplaced upon the bride's finger, and all went well enough until, as theywere rising from the prayer of "Our Father, " the bride happened to lowerher hand, and the ring, which was too large for her finger, dropped off, and rolled away and passed out of sight. 

The ceremony ended, and the ring was sought for; but could not be foundthen: and, I may as well tell you now, it has not been found yet. 

Seeing at length that their search was quite fruitless, the gentlemen ofthe bridal train reluctantly gave up the ring for lost, and the wholeparty filed into the chancel to enter their names in the register, thatlay for this purpose on the communion table. 

The bridegroom first approached and wrote his. It was a prolonged andsonorous roll of names, such as frequently compose the tail of anobleman's title:

Malcolm--Victor--Stuart--Douglass--Gordon--Dugald, Viscount Vincent. 

Then the bride signed hers, and the witnesses theirs. 

When Mr. Brudenell came to sign his own name as one of the witnesses, hehappened to glance at the bridegroom's long train of names. He read themover with a smile at their length, but his eye fastened upon the lastone--"Dugald, " "Dugald"? Herman Brudenell, like the immortal Burton, thought he had "heard that name before, " in fact, was sure he had "heardthat name before!" Yes, verily; he had heard it in connection with hissister's fatal flight, in which a certain Captain Dugald had been hercompanion! And he resolved to make cautious inquiries of the viscount. He had known Lord Vincent on the Continent, but he had either neverhappened to hear what his family name was, or if he had chanced to doso, he had forgotten the circumstances. At all events, it was not untilthe instant in which he read the viscount's signature in the registerthat he discovered the family name of Lord Vincent and the disreputablename of Eleanor Brudenell's unprincipled lover to be the same. 

But this was no time for brooding over the subject. He affixed his ownsignature, which was the last one on the list, and then joined thebridal party, who were now leaving the church. 

At the door a signal change took place in the order of the procession. 

Lord Vincent, with a courtesy as earnest and a smile as beaming asgallantry and the occasion required, handed his bride into his owncarriage. 

Judge Merlin, Ishmael, and Beatrice rode together. 

And others returned in the order in which they had come. 

Ishmael was coming out of that strange, benumbed state that had deadenedfor a while all his sense of suffering--coming back to a consciousnessof utter bereavement and insupportable anguish--anguish written in suchawful characters upon his pallid and writhen brow that Beatrice and heruncle exchanged glances of wonder and alarm. 

But Ishmael, in his fixed agony, did not perceive the looks of anxietythey turned towards him--did not even perceive the passage of time orspace, until they arrived at home again, and the wedding guests oncemore began to alight from the carriages. 

The party temporarily separated in the hall, the ladies dispersing eachto her own chamber to make some trifling change in her toilet beforeappearing in the drawing room. 

"Ishmael, come here, my lad, " said the judge, as soon as they were leftalone. 

Ishmael mechanically followed him to the little breakfast parlor of thefamily, where on the sideboard sat decanters of brandy and wine, andpitchers of water, and glasses of all shapes and sizes. 

He poured out two glasses of brandy--one for himself and one forIshmael. 

"Let us drink the health of the newly-married couple, " he said, pushingone glass towards Ishmael, and raising the other to his own lips. 

But Ishmael hesitated, and poured out a tumbler of pure water, saying, in a faint voice:

"I will drink her health in this. "

"Nonsense! put it down. You are chilled enough without drinking that tothrow you into an ague. Drink something, warm and strong, boy! drinksomething warm and strong. I tell you, I, for one, cannot get throughthis day without some such support as this, " said the judgeauthoritatively, as he took from the young man's nerveless hand theharmless glass of water, and put into it the perilous glass of brandy. 

For ah! good men do wicked things sometimes, and wise men foolish ones. 

Still Ishmael hesitated; for even in the midst of his great trouble heheard the "still, small voice" of some good angel--it might have beenhis mother's spirit--whispering him to dash from his lips the Circeandraught, that would indeed allay his sense of suffering for a fewminutes, but might endanger his character through all his life and hissoul through all eternity. The voice that whispered this, as I said, wasa "still, small voice" speaking softly within him. But the voice of thejudge was bluff and hearty, and he stood there, a visible presence, enforcing his advice with strength of action. 

And Ishmael, scarcely well assured of what he did, put the glass to hislips and quaffed the contents, and felt at once falsely exhilarated. 

"Come, now, we will go into the drawing room. I dare say they are alldown by this time, " said the judge. And in they went. 

He was right in his conjecture; the wedding guests were all assembledthere. 

And soon after his entrance the sliding doors between the drawing roomand the dining room were pushed back, and Devizac, who was the presidinggenius of the wedding feast, appeared and announced that breakfast wasserved. 

The company filed in--the bride and bridegroom walking together, andfollowed by the bridesmaids and the gentlemen of the party. 

Ishmael gave his arm to Beatrice. Mr. Brudenell conducted Mrs. Middleton, and the judge led one of the lady guests. 

The scene they entered upon was one of splendor, beauty, and luxury, never surpassed even by the great Vourienne and Devizac themselves!Painting, gilding, and flowers had not been spared. The walls werecovered with frescoes of Venus, Psyche, Cupid, the Graces, and theMuses, seen among the rosy bowers and shady groves of Arcadia. Theceiling was covered with celestial scenery, in the midst of which wasseen the cloudy court of Jupiter and Juno and their attendant gods andgoddesses; the pillars were covered with gilding and twined withflowers, and long wreaths of flowers connected one pillar with anotherand festooned the doorways and windows and the corners of the room. 

The breakfast table was a marvel of art--blazing with gold plate, blooming with beautiful and fragrant exotics, and intoxicating with thearoma of the richest and rarest viands. 

At the upper end of the room a temporary raised and gilded balconywreathed with roses was occupied by Dureezie's celebrated band, who, asthe company came in, struck up an inspiring bridal march composedexpressly for this occasion. 

The wedding party took their seats at the table and the feasting began. The viands were carved and served and praised. The bride's cake was cutand the slices distributed. The ring fell to one of the bridesmaids andprovoked the usual badinage. The wine circulated freely. 

Mr. Middleton arose and in a neat little speech proposed the fairbride's health, which proposal was hailed with enthusiasm. 

Judge Merlin, in another little speech, returned thanks to the company, and begged leave to propose the bridegroom's health, which was dulyhonored. 

Then it was Lord Vincent's turn to rise and express his gratitude andpropose Judge Merlin's health. 

This necessitated a second rising of the judge, who after making dueacknowledgments of the compliments paid him, proposed--the fairbridesmaids. 

And so the breakfast proceeded. 

They sat at table an hour, and then, at a signal from Mrs. Middleton, all arose. 

The gentlemen adjourned to the little breakfast parlor to drink aparting glass with their host in something stronger than the lightFrench breakfast wines they had been quaffing so freely. 

And the bride, followed by all her attendants, went up to her room tochange her bridal robe and veil for her traveling dress and bonnet; asthe pair were to take the one o'clock train to Baltimore en route forNew York, Niagara, and the Lakes. 

She found her dressing room all restored to the dreary good order thatspoke of abandonment. Her rich dresses and jewels and bridal presentswere all packed up. And every trunk was locked and corded and ready fortransportation to the railway station, except one large trunk that stoodopen, with its upper tray waiting for the bridal dress she was about toput off. 

Ruth, who had been very busy with all this packing, while the weddingparty were at church and at breakfast, now stood with the brown silkdress and mantle that was to be Claudia's traveling costume, laid overher arm. 

Claudia, assisted by Mrs. Middleton, changed her dress with the feverishhaste of one who longed to get a painful ordeal over; and while Ruthhastily packed away the wedding finery and closed the last trunk, Claudia tied on her brown silk bonnet and drew on her gloves andexpressed herself ready to depart. 

They went downstairs to the drawing room, where all the wedding guestswere once more gathered to see the young pair off. 

There was no time to lose, and so all her friends gathered around thebride to receive her adieus and to express their good wishes. 

One by one she bade them farewell. 

When she came to her cousin, Bee burst into tears and whispered:

"God forgive you, poor Claudia! God avert from you all evil consequencesof your own act!"

She caught her breath, wrung Bee's hand and turned away, and lookedaround. She had taken leave of all except her father and Ishmael. 

Her father she knew would accompany her as far as the railway station, for he had said as much. 

But there was Ishmael. 

As she went up to him slowly and fearfully, every vein and artery in herbody seemed to throb with the agony of her heart. She tried to speak;but could utter no articulate sound. She held out her hand; but he didnot take it; then she lifted her beautiful eyes to his, with a glance sohelpless, so anguished, so imploring, as if silently praying from himsome kind word before she should go, that Ishmael's generous heart wasmelted and he took her hand and pressing it while he spoke, said in lowand fervent tones:

"God bless you, Lady Vincent. God shield you from all evil. God save youin every crisis of your life. "

And she bowed her head, lowly and humbly, to receive this benediction asthough it had been uttered by an authorized minister of God. 

CHAPTER LXVII. 

BEE'S HANDKERCHIEF. 

 "I would bend my spirit o'er yon. " "I am humbled, who was humble! Friend! I bow my head before you!"

 --_E. B. Browning_. 

But a mist fell before Ishmael's eyes, and when it cleared away Claudiawas gone. 

The young bridesmaids were chattering gayly in a low, melodious tonewith each other, and with the gentlemen of the party filling the roomwith a musical hum of many happy voices. 

But all this seemed unreal and dreadful, like the illusions of troubledsleep. And so Ishmael left the drawing room and went up to the office, to see if perhaps he could find real life there. 

There lay the parcels of papers tied up with red tape, the open booksthat he had consulted the day before, and the letters that had come bythe morning's mail. 

He sat down wearily to the table and began to open his letters. One byone he read and laid them aside. One important letter, bearing upon acase he had on hand, he laid by itself. 

Then rising, he gathered up his documents, put them into his pocket, took his hat and gloves and went to the City Hall. 

This day of suffering, like all other days, was a day of duties also. 

It was now one o'clock, the hour at which the train started whichcarried Claudia away. 

It was also the hour at which a case was appointed to be heard beforethe Judge of the Orphan's Court--a case in which the guardianship ofcertain fatherless and motherless children was disputed between agrandmother and an uncle, and in which Ishmael was counsel for theplaintiff. He appeared in court, punctually to the minute, found hisclient waiting for him there, and as soon as the judge had taken hisseat the young counsel opened the case. By a strong effort of will hewrested his thoughts from his own great sorrow, and engaged them in theinterests of the anxious old lady, who was striving for the possessionof her grandchildren only from the love she bore them and their mother, her own dead daughter; while her opponent wished only to have themanagement of their large fortune. 

It was nature that pleaded through the lips of the eloquent youngcounsel, and he gained this case also. 

But he was ill in mind and body. He could scarcely bear the thanks andcongratulations of his client and her friends. 

The old lady had retained him by one large fee, and now she placedanother and a larger one in his hands; but he could not have toldwhether the single banknote was for five dollars or five hundred, as hemechanically received it and placed it in his pocketbook. 

And then, with the courteous bow and smile, never omitted, because theywere natural and habitual, he turned and left the courtroom. 

"What is the matter with Worth?" inquired one lawyer. 

"Can't imagine; he looks very ill; shouldn't wonder if he was going tohave a congestion of the brain. It looks like it. He works too hard, "replied another. 

Old Wiseman, the law-thunderer, who had been the counsel opposed toIshmael in this last case, and who, in fact, was always professionallyopposed to him, but, nevertheless, personally friendly towards him, hadalso noticed his pale, haggard, and distracted looks, and now hurriedafter him in the fear that he should fall before reaching home. 

He overtook Ishmael in the lobby. The young man was standing leaning onthe balustrade at the head of the stairs, as if unable to take anotherstep. 

Wiseman bent over him. 

"Worth, my dear fellow, what is the matter with you? Does it half killyou to overthrow me at law?"

"I--fear that I am not well, " replied Ishmael, in a hollow voice, andwith a haggard smile. 

"What is it? Only exhaustion, I hope? You have been working too hard, and you never even left the courtroom to take any refreshments to-day. You are too much in earnest, my young friend. You take too much pains. You apply yourself too closely. Why, bless my life, you could floor usall any day with half the trouble! But you must always use atrip-hammer to drive tin tacks. Take my arm, and let us go and getsomething. "

And the stout lawyer drew the young man's arm within his own and led himto a restaurant that was kept on the same floor for the convenience ofthe courts and their officers and other habitues of the City Hall. 

Wiseman called for the best old Otard brandy, and poured out half atumblerful, and offered it to Ishmael. It was a dose that might havebeen swallowed with impunity by a seasoned old toper like Wiseman; butcertainly not by an abstinent young man like Ishmael, who, yielding tothe fatal impulse to get rid of present suffering by any means, at anycost, or any risk, took the tumbler and swallowed the brandy. 

Ah, Heaven have mercy on the sorely-tried and tempted!

This was only the third glass of alcoholic stimulants that Ishmael hadever taken in the whole course of his life. 

On the first occasion, the day of Claudia's betrothal, the glass hadbeen placed in his hand and urged upon his acceptance by his honored oldfriend, Judge Merlin. 

On the second occasion, the morning of this day, of Claudia's marriage, the glass had also been offered him by Judge Merlin. 

And on the third occasion, this afternoon of the terrible day of trialand suffering, it was placed to his lips by the respectable old lawyer, Wiseman. 

Alas! alas!

On the first occasion Ishmael had protested long before he yielded; onthe second he had hesitated a little while; but on the third he took theoffered glass and drank the brandy without an instant's doubt or pause. 

Lord, be pitiful!

And oh, Nora, fly down from heaven on wings of love and watch over yourson and save him--from his friends!--lest he fall into deeper depthsthan any from which he has so nobly struggled forth. For he issuffering, tempted, and human! And there never lived but one perfectman, and he was the Son of God. 

"Well?" said old Wiseman as he received the glass from Ishmael's handand sat it down. 

"I thank you; it has done me good; I feel much better; you are verykind, " said Ishmael. 

"I wish you would really think so, and go into partnership with me. Mybusiness is very heavy--much more than I can manage alone, now that I amgrowing old and stout; and I must have somebody, and I would rather haveyou than anyone else. You would succeed to the whole business after mydeath, you know. "

"Thank you; your offer is very flattering. I will think it over, andtalk with you on some future occasion. Now I feel that I must returnhome, while I have strength to do so, " replied Ishmael. 

"Very well, then, my dear fellow, I will let you off. "

And they shook hands and parted. 

Ishmael, feeling soothed, strengthened, and exhilarated, set off to walkhome. But this feeling gradually passed off, giving place to a weakness, heaviness, and feverishness, that warned him he was in no state toappear at judge Merlin's dinner table. 

So when he approached the house he opened a little side gate leadinginto the back grounds, and strayed into the shrubbery, feeling everyminute more feverish, heavy, and drowsy. 

At last he strayed into an arbor, quite at the bottom of theshrubberies, where he sank down upon the circular bench and fell into adeep sleep. 

Meanwhile up at the house changes had taken place. The wedding guestshad all departed. The festive garments had had been laid away. Thedecorated dining room had been shut up. The household had returned toits usual sober aspect, and the plain family dinner was laid in thelittle breakfast parlor. But the house was very sad and silent andlonely because its queen was gone. At the usual dinner-hour, sixo'clock, the family assembled at the table. 

"Where is Ishmael, uncle?" inquired Beatrice. 

"I do not know, my dear, " replied the judge, whose heart was sore withthe wrench that had torn his daughter from him. 

"Do you, papa?"

"No, dear. "

"Mamma, have you seen Ishmael since the morning?"

"No, child. "

"Nor you, Walter?"

"Nor I, Bee. "

Mr. Brudenell looked up at the fair young creature, who took suchthought of his absent son, and volunteered to say:

"He had a case before the Orphans' Court to-day, I believe. But thecourt is adjourned, I know, because I met the judge an hour ago at theCapitol; so I suppose he will be here soon. "

Bee bowed in acknowledgment of this information, but she did not feel atall reassured. She had noticed Ishmael's dreadful pallor that morning;she felt how much he suffered, and she feared some evil consequences;though her worst suspicions never touched the truth. 

"Uncle, " she said, blushing deeply to be obliged still to betray herinterest in one whom she was forced to remember, because everyone elseforgot him, "uncle, had we not better send Powers up to Ishmael's roomto see if he has come in, and let him know that dinner is on the table?"

"Certainly, my dear; go, Powers, and if Mr. Worth is in his room, lethim know that dinner is ready. "

Powers went, but soon returned with the information that Mr. Worth wasneither in his room nor in the office, nor anywhere else in the house. 

"Some professional business has detained him; he will be home after awhile, " said the judge. 

But Bee was anxious, and when dinner was over she went upstairs to awindow that overlooked the Avenue, and watched; but, of course, in vain. Then with the restlessness common to intense anxiety she came down andwent into the shrubbery to walk. She paced about very uneasily until shehad tired herself, and then turned towards a secluded arbor at thebottom of the grounds to rest herself. She put aside the vines thatoverhung the doorway and entered. 

What did she see?

Ishmael extended upon the bench, with the late afternoon sun streamingthrough a crevice in the arbor, shining full upon his face, which wasalso plagued with flies!

She had found him then, but how?

At first she thought he was only sleeping; and she was about to withdrawfrom the arbor when the sound of his breathing caught her ear andalarmed her, and she crept back and cautiously approached and lookedover him. 

His face was deeply flushed; the veins of his temples were swollen; andhis breathing was heavy and labored. In her fright Bee caught up hishand and felt his pulse. It was full, hard, and slowly throbbing. Shethought that he was very ill--dangerously ill, and she was about tospring up and rush to the house for help, when, in raising her head, she happened to catch his breath. 

And all the dreadful truth burst upon Bee's mind, and overwhelmed herwith mortification and despair!

With a sudden gasp and a low wail she sank on her knees at his side anddropped her head in her open hands and sobbed aloud. 

"Oh, Ishmael, Ishmael, is it so? Have I lived to see you thus? Can awoman reduce a man to this? A proud and selfish woman have such power soto mar God's noblest work? Oh, Ishmael, my love, my love! I love youbetter than I love all the world besides! And I love you better thananyone else ever did or ever can; yet, yet, I would rather see you starkdead before me than to see you thus! Oh, Heaven! Oh, Saviour! Oh, Fatherof Mercies, have pity on him and save him!" she cried. 

And she wrung her hands and bent her head to look at him more closely, and her large tears dropped upon his face. 

He stirred, opened his eyes, rolled them heavily, became half consciousof someone weeping over him, turned clumsily and relapsed intoinsensibility. 

At his first motion Bee had sprung up and fled from the arbor, at thedoor of which she stood, with throbbing heart, watching him, through thevines. She saw that he had again fallen into that deep and comatosesleep. And she saw that his flushed and fevered face was more than everexposed to the rays of the sun and the plague of the flies. And shecrept cautiously back again, and drew her handkerchief from her pocketand laid it over his face, and turned and hurried, broken-spirited fromthe spot. 

She gained her own room and threw herself into her chair in a passion oftears and sobs. 

Nothing that had ever happened in all her young life had ever grievedher anything like this. She had loved Ishmael with all her heart, andshe knew that Ishmael loved Claudia with all of his; but the knowledgeof this fact had never brought to her the bitter sorrow that the sightof Ishmael's condition had smitten her with this afternoon. For therewas scarcely purer love among the angels in heaven than was that ofBeatrice for Ishmael. First of all she desired his good; next hisaffection; next his presence; but there was scarcely selfishness enoughin Bee's nature to wish to possess him all for her own. 

First his good! And here, weeping, sobbing, and praying by turns, sheresolved to devote herself to that object; to do all that she possiblycould to shield him from the suspicion of this night's event; and tosave him from falling into a similar misfortune. 

She remained in her own room until tea-time, and then bathed her eyes, and smoothed her hair, and went down to join the family at the table. 

"Well, Bee, " said the judge, "have you found Ishmael yet?"

Bee hesitated, blushed, reflected a moment, and then answered:

"Yes, uncle; he is sleeping; he is not well; and I would not have himdisturbed if I were you; for sleep will do him more good than anythingelse. "

"Certainly. Why, Bee, did you ever know me to have anybody waked up inthe whole course of my life? Powers, and the rest of you, hark ye: Letno one call Mr. Worth. Let him sleep until the last trump sounds, oruntil he wakes up of his own accord!"

Powers bowed, and said he would see the order observed. 

Soon after tea was over, the family, fatigued with the day's excitement, retired to bed. 

Bee went up to her room in the back attic; but she did not go to bed, oreven undress, for she knew that Ishmael was locked out; and so she threwa light shawl around her, and seated herself at the open back window, which from its high point of view commanded every nook and cranny of theback grounds, to watch until Ishmael should wake up and approach thehouse, so that she might go down and admit him quietly, withoutdisturbing the servants and exciting their curiosity and conjectures. Noone should know of Ishmael's misfortune, for she would not call itfault, if any vigilance of hers could shield him. All through the stillevening, all through the deep midnight, Bee sat and watched. 

When Ishmael had fallen asleep, the sun was still high above the Westernhorizon; but when he awoke the stars were shining. 

He raised himself to a sitting posture, and looked around him, utterlybewildered and unable to collect his scattered faculties, or to rememberwhere he was, or how he came there, or what had occurred, or who hehimself really was--so deathlike had been his sleep. 

He had no headache; his previous habits had been too regular, hisblood was too pure, and the brandy was too good for that. He was simplybewildered, but utterly bewildered, as though he had waked up in anotherworld. 

He was conscious of a weight upon his heart, but could not remember thecause of it; and whether it was grief or remorse, or both, he could nottell. He feared that it was both. 

Gradually memory and misery returned to him; the dreadful day; themarriage; the feast; the parting; the lawsuit; the two glasses ofbrandy, and their mortifying consequences. All the events of that daylay clearly before him now--that horrible day begun in unutterablesorrow, and ended in humiliating sin!

Was it himself, Ishmael Worth, who had suffered this sorrow, yielded tothis temptation, and fallen into this sin? To what had his inordinateearthly affections brought him? He was no longer "the chevalier withoutfear and without reproach. " He had fallen, fallen, fallen!

He remembered that when he had sunk to sleep the sun was shining andsmiling all over the beautiful garden, and that even in his half-drowsystate he had noticed its glory. The sun was gone now. It had set uponhis humiliating weakness. The day had given up the record of his sin andpassed away forever. The day would return no more to reproach him, butits record would meet him in the judgment. 

He remembered that once in his deep sleep he had half awakened and foundwhat seemed a weeping angel bending over him, and that he had tried torouse himself to speak; but in the effort he had only turned over andtumbled into a deeper oblivion than ever. 

Who was that pitying angel visitant?

The answer came like a shock of electricity. It was Bee! Who else shouldit have been? It was Bee! She had sought him out when he was lost; shehad found him in his weakness; she had dropped tears of love and sorrowover him. 

At that thought new shame, new grief, new remorse swept in upon hissoul. 

He sprang upon his feet, and in doing so dropped a little white driftupon the ground. He stooped and picked it up. 

It was the fine white handkerchief that on first waking up he hadplucked from his face. And he knew by its soft thin feeling and itsdelicate scent of violets, Bee's favorite perfume, that it was herhandkerchief, and she had spread it as a veil over his exposed andfeverish, face. That little wisp of cambric was redolent of Bee! of herpresence, her purity, her tenderness. 

It seemed a mere trifle; but it touched the deepest springs of hisheart, and, holding it in both his hands, he bowed his humbled head uponit and wept. 

When a man like Ishmael weeps it is no gentle summer shower, I assureyou; but as the breaking up of great fountains, the rushing of mightytorrents, the coming of a flood. 

He wept long and convulsively. And his deluge of tears relieved hissurcharged heart and brain and did him good. He breathed more freely; hewiped his face with this dear handkerchief, and then, all dripping wetwith tears as it was, he pressed it to his lips and placed it in hisbosom, over his heart, and registered a solemn vow in Heaven that thisfirst fault of his life should also, with God's help, be his last. 

Then he walked forth into the starlit garden, murmuring to himself:

"By a woman came sin and death into the world, and by a woman cameredemption and salvation. Oh, Claudia, my Eve, farewell! farewell! AndBee, my Mary, hail!"

The holy stars no longer looked down reproachfully upon him; theharmless little insect-choristers no longer mocked him; love andforgiveness beamed down from the pure light of the first, and cheeringhope sounded in the gleeful songs of the last. 

Ishmael walked up the gravel-walk between the shrubbery and the house. Once, when his face was towards the house, he looked up at Bee's backwindow. It was open, and he saw a white, shadowy figure just within it. 

Was it Bee?

His heart assured him that it was; and that anxiety for him had kept herthere awake and watching. 

As he drew near the house, quite uncertain as to how he should get in, he saw that the shadowy, white figure disappeared from the window; andwhen he went up to the back door, with the intention of rapping loudlyuntil he should wake up the servants and gain admission, his purpose wasforestalled by the door being softly opened by Bee, who stood with ashaded taper behind it. 

"Oh, Bee!"

"Oh, Ishmael!"

Both spoke at once, and in a tone of irrepressible emotion. 

"Come in, Ishmael, " she next said kindly. 

"You know, Bee?" he asked sadly, as he entered. 

"Yes, Ishmael! Forgive me for knowing, for it prevented others findingout. And your secret could not rest safer, or with a truer heart thanmine. "

"I know it, dear Bee! dear sister, I know it. And Bee, listen! Thatglass of brandy was only the third of any sort of spirituous liquor thatI ever tasted in my life. And I solemnly swear in the presence of Heavenand before you that it shall be the very last! Never, no, never, even asa medicine, will I place the fatal poison to my lips again. "

"I believe you, Ishmael. And I am very happy. Thank God!" she said, giving him her hand. 

"Dear Bee! Holy angel! I am scarcely worthy to touch it, " he said, bowing reverently over that little white hand. 

"'There shall be more joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, thanover ninety and nine just persons who need no repentance. ' Good-night, Ishmael!" said Bee sweetly, as she put the taper in his hand and glidedlike a spirit from his presence. 

She was soon sleeping beside her baby sister. 

And Ishmael went upstairs to bed. And the troubled night closed inpeace. 

The further career of Ishmael, together with the after fate of all thecharacters mentioned in this work, will be found in the sequel to andfinal conclusion of this volume, entitled, "Self-Raised; or, From theDepths. "