CHAPTER XX.

GOING SOUTH.

After the first shock of our sorrow was over, the question arose as to what we were to do in future for our support. Grandma was already old, while mother was not so young as she had been once, and neither could do much towards their own maintenance, which necessarily would devolve upon us their children. It had ever been a pet project of mine to go South as a teacher, and when one day in looking over a Boston paper I accidentally came across the advertisement of a Georgia lady, Mrs. A. D. Lansing, who wished for a private governess, I resolved at once to apply for the situation, greatly fearing lest I might be too late.

I was not, however; for after waiting impatiently for a few weeks, I received a letter from the lady herself, who, after enumerating the duties I was expected to perform and the branches I was to teach, added, in a P.S.: "Before making any definite arrangements with Miss Lee, Mrs. Lansing wishes to be informed if, either by her friends or herself, she is considered pretty, as a person of decidedly ordinary looks will be preferred."

"Spiteful, jealous old thing!" exclaimed Lizzie, who was looking over my shoulder, "I wouldn't stir a step."

But I thought differently. My curiosity was roused to know the cause of her strange freak; and then, too, six hundred dollars per year would amply atone for any little peculiarities in my employer. So I answered her letter forthwith, assuring her that neither my friends nor myself had ever been guilty of calling me pretty—in short, I was decidedly homely, and trusted that on that point at least I should please her.

"What a fib, Rosa," said Charlie, when I told him what I had written. "You know you are not homely. You used to be, I'll admit; but you are far from being so now. To be sure, you are not what many would call handsome, but you are decidedly good-looking. You've got handsome eyes, splendid hair (and he pulled one of my short, thick curls by way of adding emphasis to his words) and your complexion is not one-half so sallow and muddy as it used to be. Depend upon it, this 'Mrs. Angeline Delafield Lansing, of Cedar Grove' will think you have deceived her."

"Nonsense!" I replied, seating myself at the piano, which was now my constant companion, Mrs. Lansing having written that she was very particular about music.

Now, to tell the truth, I was not very much of a performer, but looking upon the South very much as I did upon the far West, I fancied that a small amount of showy accomplishments would pass for the real coin. Still I determined to play as well as possible, and so week after week I practised, until, when I had nearly given up all hopes of ever hearing from the lady again, I one day received a letter bearing the W—— postmark, and containing a check on a Boston bank for money sufficient to defray my expenses. There were also a few hastily written lines, saying that "Mrs. Lansing considered our engagement as settled, but she should not expect me until the latter part of April, as she could not immediately get rid of her present governess, a painted, insipid creature from New York, and the veriest humbug in the world."

"A sweet time you'll have of it with madam," said Charlie, "and once for all I advise you to give up going. Why, only think, April there is hotter than pepper, and of course you'll take the fever and die."

But I was not to be persuaded. The "sunny South" had for me a peculiar fascination; and then, too, there was another reason which, more than all others, prompted me to go. Georgia was the home of the dark man, as I called him, and though there was hardly a probability of my ever meeting him there, such a thing was still possible, and like Longfellow's Evangeline, who, on the broad Mississippi felt that each dip of the oar carried her nearer to her lost Gabriel, so each day I felt a stronger and stronger conviction that somewhere in the southern land I should find him.

In the meantime, Anna had been with us for a few weeks, but greatly changed from the Anna of former times. Listlessly she moved from room to room—never smiling, never weeping, and seldom speaking unless she were first addressed. To her, everything was dark, deep night, and such a gloom did her presence cast over us all, that though we would gladly have kept her with us, we still felt relieved when she left us for a home in Boston, where little Jamie soon became the idol of his grandmother, whose subdued cheerfulness had ere long a visible effect upon Anna. Cousin Will, too, had visited us, and after spending a short time had sailed with brother John for California, promising himself a joyous future, when he should return with money sufficient to purchase the old homestead, which he said should be mother's as long as she lived.

It was a cold, dark, snowy morning in the latter part of April, when I at last started on my journey. The surface of the ground was frozen hard, the trees were leafless and bare, while but few green things gave token that spring was with us. It is not strange, then, that I almost fancied myself in another world, when after a prosperous sea voyage I one morning went on shore at Charleston, and first breathed the soft, balmy air of the South. Dense and green was the foliage of the trees, while thousands of roses and flowering shrubs filled the air with a perfume almost sickening to the senses. From Charleston to Augusta was a wearisome ride, for the cars were crowded and dirty, and there was to me nothing remarkably pleasing in the long stretches of cypress swamps and pine barrens though which we passed.

It was late in the evening when we reached the town of C——, from whence I was to proceed to W——, by stage. It was a most beautiful night; and for hours I watched the soft moonlight as it glimmered among the trees which lined either side of the narrow road, and whose branches often swept against the windows of our lumbering vehicle. It was long after sunrise when we arrived at W——, but so thickly wooded is the country around, that I obtained not a single glimpse of the town until I suddenly found myself "thar," as the driver said, dismounting and opening the door of our prison-house. The hotel into which I was ushered, would, perhaps, compare favorably with our country taverns at the North; but at each step I took, I felt a more and more painful consciousness that home, my home, was far away.

After shaking the dust from my traveling-dress, and slaking my thirst from the big gourd shell (my special delight), which hung by the side of a bucket of cool water which stood on a little stand in the parlor, I inquired for some one who would take to Mrs. Lansing my card, and thus apprise her of my arrival. The landlord immediately summoned a bright, handsome mulatto boy, who, after receiving my orders, and favoring me with a sight of his ivories, started off bareheaded, and for that matter bare-bodied too, for Cedar Grove, which the landlord pointed out to me in the distance, and which, with its dense surrounding of trees, looked to me delightfully cool and pleasant. After waiting rather impatiently for an hour or more, a large, old-fashioned carriage, drawn by two rather poor-looking horses, stopped before the door. It belonged to Mrs. Lansing; and the footman, jumping down from the rack behind, handed me a note; in which the lady begged me to come directly to her house, saying she was herself indisposed, or she would have come down to meet me, and also adding, that if I would excuse her she would rather not see me until supper-time, when she hoped to feel better.

At the extremity of Main Street, we turned in at a ponderous gate, and after passing through two or three fields or lawns, stopped at last in front of Cedar Grove, which stood upon a slight eminence overlooking the town. In perfect delight I gazed around me, for it seemed the embodiment of my childish dreams, and involuntarily I exclaimed, "This is indeed the sunny, sunny South." It was very beautiful, that spacious yard and garden, with their winding walks on which no ray of sunlight fell, so securely were they shaded, by the cedar and the fir, the catalpa, the magnolia, and the fig tree, most of them seen now by me for the first time in all their natural beauty, reminded one so forcibly of Eden. The house itself was a large, square building, surrounded on three sides by a piazza, which I afterwards found was the family sitting-room; it being there that they congregated both morning and evening. The building had once been white, but the paint was nearly all worn off, and it now presented a rather dilapidated appearance, with its broken shutters and decayed pillars, round which vines and ivy were twining. The floors within were bare, but scrupulously clean; while the rooms lacked the costly furniture I had confidently expected to see.

Scarcely was I seated in the parlor, when I heard a sweet, childish voice exclaim, "She's in thar—she is," while at the same time a pair of soft, blue eyes looked through the crevice of the door, and then were quickly withdrawn, their owner laughing aloud as if she had accomplished some daring feat, and calling out, "I seen her, Hal—I did. And she don't look cross neither. You dassn't peek in thar, dast you?"

They were my future pupils, I was sure; and already my heart warmed towards them, particularly her with the silvery voice, and I was just thinking of going out to find them, when I heard a light footstep on the stairs, and the next moment a tall, dark-eyed girl, apparently fourteen or fifteen years of age, entered the room, introducing herself as Miss Lina Lansing, and welcoming me so cordially that I felt myself at once at home.

"Mother," said she, "is indisposed, as I believe she wrote you, and has sent me to receive you, and ask what you would like."

I had scarcely slept a moment the night previous, so I replied, that if convenient, I would go immediately to my room. Ringing the bell, she summoned to the room a short, dumpy mulatto, whom she called Cressy, and who, she said, was to be my attendant. Following her up the stairs, I was ushered into a large, airy chamber, which, though not furnished with elegance, still contained everything for my comfort, even to a huge feather-bed, the sight of which made me wipe the perspiration from my face.

"Shall I wash missus' feet first, or comb her har?" asked the negress, pouring a pitcher of water into a small bathing tub.

This was entirely new to me, who had always been accustomed to wait upon myself, so I declined her offers of assistance, telling her, "I preferred being alone, and could do everything for myself which was necessary."

"Laws, missus!" she answered, rolling the whites of her eyes, "'taint no ways likely you can bresh and 'range all dat ar har," pointing to my thick and now somewhat tangled curls. "Why, Miss Lina's straighter dan a string, an' I'll be boun' she never yet tache a comb to it herself."

With some difficulty I convinced the African that her services were not needed, and staring at me as if I had been a kind of monstrosity, she left the room, the door of which I bolted against any new intruder. The windows of my chamber looked out upon the garden, where now were blossoming roses and flowers of every possible hue and form. A little to the right, and about a quarter of a mile away was another building, larger and more imposing that than of Mrs. Lansing, while a great deal of taste seemed to be displayed in the arrangement of the grounds. As nearly as I could judge, it stood upon a little hill, for the trees appeared to rise regularly one above the other, the fir and the cedar forming the outer boundary; while, as I afterwards learned, the inner rows consisted of the graceful magnolia, the wide-spreading catalpa, the beautiful china tree, and the persimmon, whose leaves in the autumn wear a most brilliant hue, and present so fine a contrast to the dark green of the pine and the fir. Very, very pleasant it looked to me, with its white walls just discernible amid the dense foliage which surrounded it, and for a long time I stood gazing towards it wondering whose home it was, and if the inmates were as happy as it seemed they might be.

At last, faint with the fatigue of my journey and the odor of the flowers, which, from the garden below, came in at the open window, I threw myself upon the lounge (feather bed looking altogether too formidable) and was soon fast asleep, dreaming of Meadow Brook, of the white house on the hill, and of the dark man, who, I thought, told me that it should one day be my home. When at last I awoke, the sun was no longer shining in at my window for it was late in the afternoon, and the fiercest heat of the day was past. Springing up, I commenced dressing with some trepidation, for I expected to meet the mistress of the house at supper-time. My toilet was nearly completed when I heard in the hall the patter of childish feet, while a round, bright eye was applied to the keyhole. It was the same which had looked at me in the parlor, and anxious to see its owner, I stepped out of the door just as a fairy creature with golden curls started to run away. I was too quick for her, however, and catching her in my arms, I pushed back the clustering ringlets from her brow, and gazing into her sunny face, asked her name.

Raising her white, waxen hand, she did for me the office I had done for her, viz. pushed back my curls, and looking in my face, answered, "Ma says it's Jessica, but Lina, Hal, and Uncle Dick call me Jessie, and I like that a heap the best. You are our new governess, ain't you?"

She was singularly beautiful, and yet it was not so much the regularity of her features, nor the clearness of her complexion which made her so. It was the light which shone in her lustrous blue eyes, which gave her the expression of an angel, for such she was—an angel in her southern home, which, without her would have been dark and cheerless. Her brother whom she called Hal, was three years older, and not nearly so handsome. He was very dark, and it seemed to me that I had seen a face like his before; but ere I could remember where, a faint voice from the piazza, which faced the east and was now quite cool, called out, "Halbert, Halbert, come here."

"That's ma," said Jessie, getting down from my arms. "That's ma—come and see her," and following her, I soon stood in the presence of Mrs. Lansing, who was reclining rather indolently in a large willow chair, while at her back was a negress half asleep, but appearing wide awake whenever her mistress moved.

She was a chubby, rosy-cheeked woman, apparently thirty-five years of age. Her eyes were very black, and she had a habit of frequently shutting them, so as to show off the long, fringed eyelashes. On the whole, I thought, she was quite prepossessing in her appearance, an opinion, however, which I changed ere long; for by the time I reached her, there was a dark cloud on her brow, evidently of displeasure or of disappointment. Still she was very polite, offering me her jeweled hand, and saying, "Miss Lee, I suppose. You are welcome to Georgia;" then, after an instant, she added, "You don't look at all like I thought you would."

I was uglier than she expected, I presumed, and the tears started to my eyes as I replied, "I wrote to you that I was very plain, but after a little I shall look better; I am tired now with traveling."

A strange, peculiar smile flitted over her face, while she intently regarded me as if to assure herself of my sanity. I was puzzled, and in my perplexity I said something about returning home, if my looks were so disagreeable. "They were used to me there, and didn't mind it," I said; at the same time leaning my head against the vine-wreathed pillars, I sobbed aloud. Lithe as a kitten, little Jessie sprang up behind me, and winding her arms around my neck, asked why I cried.

"Did ma make you cry?" she said. "Uncle Dick says she makes all the governesses cry."

"Jessica, Jessica, get down this moment," said the lady. "I did not intend to hurt Miss Lee's feelings, and do not understand how I could have done so. She is either acting a part, or else she strangely misunderstands me."

I never acted a part in my life, and, somewhat indignant, I wiped away my tears and asked "what she meant."

There was the same smile on her face which I had noticed before, as she said, "Do you really think yourself ugly?"

Of course I did. I had never thought otherwise, for hadn't I been told so ever since I was a child no larger than Jessie, and the impression thus early received had never been eradicated. Thus I answered her, and she believed me, for she replied, "You are mistaken, Miss Lee, for however plain you might have been in childhood, you are not so now. Neither do I understand how with those eyes, that hair and brow, you can think yourself ugly. I do not believe you meant to deceive me, but, to tell the truth, I am disappointed; but that cannot now be helped, and we'll make the best of it."

Perfectly astonished, I listened to her remarks, giving her the credit of meaning what she said, and for the first time in my life, I felt as I suppose folks must feel who think they are handsome! After this little storm was over, she evidently exerted herself to be agreeable for a few moments, and then rather abruptly asked me how old I was.

"Not quite eighteen!" she repeated in some surprise. "Why I supposed you were twenty-five at least! Don't you think she looks older than Ada?" turning to Lina, who answered quickly, "Oh, no, mother, nothing like as old. Why, I shouldn't think her over seventeen at the most."

Now among my other misfortunes I numbered that of "looking old as the hills," so I didn't care particularly for what they said, though it struck me as rather singular that Mrs. Lansing should thus discuss me in my presence; but this thought was lost in the more absorbing one as to who the Ada could be of whom she had spoken. Possibly it was Ada Montrose, though I ardently hoped to the contrary, for well I knew there was no happiness for me where she was. Thinking it would be on a par with the questions put to me, I was on the point of asking who Ada was, when we were summoned to supper, which consisted mostly of broiled chickens, strong coffee, iced milk, egg bread, and hoecakes, if I except the row of sables who grouped themselves around the table, and the feather girl, whose efforts to keep awake amused me so much that I almost forgot to eat. We were nearly through when a handsome mulatto boy entered and handed a letter to his mistress, which she immediately opened, holding it so that the address could be read by Halbert, who, after spelling it out, exclaimed, "That's from Uncle Dick, I know!"

"Is he coming home?" asked Jessie, dropping her knife and fork, while even Lina, who seldom evinced much interest in anything, roused up and repeated the question which Jessie had asked.

"Yes. He is in New York now," said Mrs. Lansing; "and will be here in a week."

"Good!" exclaimed Halbert.

"Oh, I'm right glad," said Jessie, while Lina asked if Ada was with him.

"No," returned Mrs. Lansing. "She is still in Paris with her cousin, and will not return until autumn."

"I'm glad of that," said Lina, to which Hal rejoined, "And so am I. She's so proud and stuck up, I can't bear her."

"Children, children," spoke Mrs. Lansing, rather sternly, at the same time rising from the table.

It was not yet sunset; and as soon as we were again assembled upon the piazza, Halbert and Jessie, who were never still, asked permission to "run up to Uncle Dick's, and tell the servants he was coming home."

Mrs. Lansing made no objection; and then they proposed that I should accompany them. Feeling that a walk would do me good, I turned towards Mrs. Lansing, for her consent. It was given, of course; but had I known her better I should have detected a shade of displeasure on her face.

"You had better go too," said she to Lina; but Lina was too listless and indolent, and so we went without her, little Jessie holding my hand, and jumping instead of walking.

"Eva's mighty lazy," said she, at last; "don't you think so!"

"Who's lazy?" I asked; and she replied—

"Thar, I done forgot again, and called her Eva. Her name is Evangeline, and we used to call her Eva, until mother read a bad book that had little Eva in it, and then she called her Lina."

"'Twan't a bad book, neither," exclaimed Halbert, stopping suddenly; "Uncle Dick said 'twan't; but it made mother mad, I tell you, and now when she gets rarin' he calls her Mrs. St. Clare."

I needed no one to tell me that it was "Uncle Tom," to which he referred, but I said nothing except to chide the children for their negro language.

"I know we talk awful," said Jessie, brushing her curls from her eyes. "Uncle Dick says we do, but I mean to learn better. I don't talk half like I used to."

I could not help smiling in spite of myself upon the little creature bounding and frisking at my side. Uncle Dick seemed to be her oracle, and after looking around to make sure that no one heard me, I asked "who he was?"

"Why, he's Uncle Dick," said she; "the bestest uncle in the world;" while Halbert added, "He's got a heap of money, too; and once, when ma thought I was asleep, I heard her tell Lina, that if he didn't get married it would be divided between us, and I should have the most, 'cause I'm named after him, Richard Halbert Delafield Lansing, and they call me Hal, for short. I told Uncle Dick what mother said, and I tell you, he looked blacker'n a nigger; and somehow, after that he took to ridin' and foolin' with Ada, wonderfully."

As yet everything with me was comparatively conjecture. I did not know positively that the Uncle Dick of the children was the "dark man" of Rosa Lee; but the answer to my next question would decide it, and half tremblingly was it put. "Who is this Ada? What is her other name?"

"Ada Montrose, and she lives with us. Uncle Dick is her guardian," said Halbert, throwing a bit of dirt at the negro boy who accompanied us, and who returned the young gentleman's salute with interest.

I was satisfied, and did not wish to hear any more. I should meet him again, and tinged as my temperament is with a love of the marvellous, I could not help believing that Providence had led me there. By this time we had reached "Sunny Bank," as it was very appropriately called, and never before had I seen so lovely a spot. The grounds, which were very spacious, were surrounded on all sides by a hedge of the beautiful Cherokee rose, and, unlike those of Cedar Grove, were laid out with perfect taste and order. Mr. Delafield, as I afterwards learned, had spent much time at the North, and in the arrangement of his house and grounds, he had not only imitated, but far surpassed the style of the country seats which are so often found within a few miles of our eastern cities, For this he was in a measure indebted to Dame Nature, who at the South scatters her favors with a lavish hand, sometimes beautifying and adorning objects far better than the utmost skill of man could do. The gate at the entrance of Sunny Bank was a huge wooden structure, having for its posts two immense oak trees, around whose trunks the graceful ivy twined, and then hung in fanciful festoons from several of the lower branches.

As I had supposed, the house itself stood upon a slight elevation, and the walk which led up to it was bordered on either side by the mock orange, whose boughs, meeting overhead, formed an effectual screen from the rays of the sun. The building, though fashioned in the same style as that of Mrs. Lansing, was much larger, and had about it a far more stylish air. Much of the furniture had been brought from New York, Halbert said; adding that "all the floors were covered with matting in the summer, and elegant Turkey carpets in the winter."

In the rear of the house were the cabins of the negroes, who were lounging idly about, some on the ground, some in the doors, and some stretched at full length upon the back of the piazza, evidently enjoying the cool evening breeze. At sight of us, they roused up a little, and when Halbert, after announcing that I was Miss Lee, the new governess, further informed them that their master was coming home in a few days, they instantly gathered round us, evincing so much joy as to astonish me, who had heretofore looked upon a southern slaveholder as a tyrant greatly dreaded by his vassals.

"You must like Mr. Delafield very much," I ventured to remark to one old lady, whose hair was white as wool.

"Like Mass'r Richard!" said she, rolling up her eyes. "Lor' bless you, miss, like don't begin to 'spress it. Why, I farly worships him; for didn't I tend him when he was a nussin' baby? and hain't these old arms toted him more'n a million of miles?"

Here her voice was drowned by the others, all of whom united in declaring him the "berry best mass'r in Georgy." This did not, of course, tend in any way to diminish the interest which I felt in the stranger; and, ere I was aware of it, I found myself anticipating his return almost as anxiously as the negroes themselves.

It was dark when we reached Cedar Grove; and as there was company in the parlor, I went immediately to my room. I had not been there long, however, when a servant was sent up, saying, that "Mrs. Lansing wished me to come down and play."

This was an ordeal which I greatly dreaded; for, from what I had seen of Mrs. Lansing, I knew she would criticise my performance closely; and fearing inability to acquit myself at all creditably, I trembled violently as I descended to the parlor, which was nearly full of visitors.

"Miss Lee, ladies," said Mrs. Lansing, at the same time motioning towards the music-stool as the seat I was expected to occupy.

There was a film before my eyes as I took my post and nervously turned over the leaves of a music-book; which, by the way, was wrong side up, though I didn't know it then! I have heard much of stage fright, and sure am I, that never did poor mortal suffer more from an attack of that nature than did I during the few moments that I sat there, trying to recall something familiar, something which I knew I could play. At last, when the patience of the company seemed nearly exhausted, I dashed off at random, playing parts of two or three different tunes, changing the key as many times, using the loud pedal when I should have used the soft, and at last ending with the most horrid discord to which my ears ever listened. The audience were, undoubtedly, thunderstruck, for they spoke not for the space of a minute; and, with a feeling of desperation, I was about to make a second effort, hoping thereby to retrieve my character, when Mrs. Lansing said, in a cold, sarcastic voice, "That will do, Miss Lee; we are perfectly satisfied." Then, turning to a haughty-looking young lady who sat by the window, she continued: "Come, Miss Porter; you certainly can't refuse to favor us, now."

With a very consequential air, for which I could not blame her, Miss Porter took my place, and, without any apparent effort, killed my poor performance outright; for she executed admirably some of the most difficult music. When she had finished, the ladies rose to go, Mrs. Lansing following them to the door, and whispering (I know she did) something about "her being humbugged again."

When she returned to the room, I stole a glance at her face, which was very red, and indicative of anything but good-will towards me. I felt the hot tears rising, but when, with a bang, she closed the piano, and turning towards me, demanded "how long I had taken music lessons," I forced them back, and answered promptly, "five quarters."

"Only five quarters!" she repeated, in evident amazement. "Why, Lina has taken three years, and she wouldn't consider herself competent to teach, even were she poor, and obliged to do so."

The latter part of this speech I did not fancy; for even if a person is poor, and obliged to work, they do not often like to be taunted with it; at least, I didn't, but I couldn't help myself. I was at the mercy of Mrs. Lansing, who proceeded to say, that "she had often been deceived by Northern teachers, who thought to palm themselves off for better scholars than they really were; and now she had almost come to the conclusion that they were not so well educated as the majority of Southern girls."

"I, at least, never intended to deceive you," said I; "I told you in my letter that I was not an accomplished musician, and still you consented to employ me."

Here I broke down entirely, and wept passionately, telling her, in broken sentences, that "however mortifying it would be, I was willing to go back, if she wished it."

At this point, little Jessie, who all the time had been present, came to my side, and winding her arms around my neck, said, "You sha'n't go home. We like you, Hal and me, and you sha'n't go—shall she, Hal?"

Thus appealed to, Hal took up my cause, which he warmly defended; telling his mother "she made every governess cry, and told them they didn't know anything, when they did, for Uncle Dick said so, and he knew; and that, as for music, Miss Lee played a heap better than Lina, because she played something new—something he never heard before."

"Nor any one else," muttered Mrs. Lansing, while Hal continued, "Uncle Dick says, the best teachers sometimes don't play at all, and Miss Lee sha'n't go home."

Very faintly, I repeated my willingness to do so, if Mrs. Lansing thought best; to which she replied, "I will deal fairly with you, Miss Lee. I am disappointed in your musical abilities, and if I find that you are deficient in other things, I shall be obliged to dismiss you; but for a few days I will keep you on trial."

"Uncle Dick won't let you send her away, I know," said Hal; and this, I am inclined to think, determined her upon getting rid of me before his return.

Still, I was ostensibly upon trial, and whoever has been in a similar situation, will readily understand that I could not, of course, do myself justice. With Mrs. Lansing's prying eyes continually upon me, I really acted as though I were half-witted; and by the close of the second day, I myself began to doubt the soundness of my mind, wondering why the folks at home had never discovered my stupidity. Continual excitement kept my cheeks in a constant glow, while the remainder of my face was quite pale, and several times, in their mother's presence, the children told me "how handsome I was!" This annoyed her—and on the morning of the third day, she informed me that she would defray my expenses back to Massachusetts, where I could tell them I was too young to suit her; adding, that I might as well go the next morning. This was a death-blow to my hopes; and so violent was the shock, that I could not even weep. Hal and Jessie were furious, declaring I should not go; and when I convinced them that I must, they insisted upon my teaching that day, at all events.

To this I consented; and as Mrs. Lansing had now no object in watching me, she absented herself from the schoolroom entirely, leaving me to do as I pleased. The consequence was, that my benumbed faculties awoke again to life, everything which, for the last ten days, I seemed to have forgotten, came back to me; while even the children noticed how differently I appeared.

CHAPTER XXI.

UNCLE DICK.

The day was drawing to a close. The children's lessons were over, the last I was to hear. Their books were piled away awaiting the arrival of my successor, and at my request I was left in the schoolroom alone—alone with my grief, which was indeed bitter and hard to bear, for I knew that injustice had been done me, and most keenly I felt the mortification of returning home in disgrace. Very beautiful to me seemed that fair south land of which I had dreamed so oft, and I felt that I could not leave it.

Through the open window I heard the shouts of the children, but I did not heed them, nor observe that throughout the entire house there seemed to be an unusual commotion. An hour went by, and then in the hall I heard the voice of Jessie, and the words she uttered sent an electric thrill through my nerves, and brought me to my feet, for they were, "Come this way, Uncle Dick. I reckon she's in the schoolroom."

The next moment he stood before me, the dark man, scanning me curiously, but still without anything like rudeness in his gaze.

"Uncle Dick's come. This is him," said Jessie, leading him towards the spot where I stood.

A bright beautiful smile broke over his strongly marked features, and I felt as if a gleam of sunlight had shone for an instant over my pathway. Taking my hand in his, he bade Jessie leave us, as he wished to see me alone. She started to obey, but ere she reached the door, she turned back and asking him to stoop down, whispered in his ear, loudly enough for me to hear, "I want you to like her."

"Of course I shall," he replied, and again that smile broke over his face.

I did not expect him to recognize me, for with the exception of the night at the theater he had never fairly seen my features, and still I was conscious of a feeling of disappointment when I saw that he evidently had no suspicion of ever having met me before. When I spoke, however, and he heard the sound of my voice, he started and looked me more fully in the face; but whatever his thoughts might have been, he seemed to be satisfied that he was mistaken, and seating himself at my side, he commenced conversing with me as familiarly as if he had known me all my life. Gradually our conversation turned upon looks, and ere I was aware of it I passed through what I now know to have been a pretty thorough examination of all the branches which Mrs. Lansing had wished me to teach, but so adroitly was the whole thing managed that it seemed like a quiet, pleasant talk, though I did wonder at his asking so many questions. French was the last subject discussed, and here I was at fault, for my pronunciation I well knew was bad, although Mr. Delafield, who was himself a fine French scholar, told me it was quite as good as the majority of the Americans who had neither lived in Paris, nor had the advantage of a native teacher.

"You play, I believe. I would like to hear you," he said at last, laying his hand on my shoulder, as if he would lead me to the parlor.

Instantly the blood rushed to my face, for since the night of my disgrace I had not touched the piano, neither did I wish to again. So I tried to excuse myself, and when he insisted, I finally said, with my eyes full of tears, "Please excuse me, sir, for I can't play. I failed before your sister, and I shall do the same before you."

"No you won't," he replied, at the same time drawing my arm within his and leading me towards the door. "You have nothing to fear, Miss Lee, and if you acquit yourself half as creditably here as you have elsewhere, I shall be satisfied."

A faint perception of the truth began to dawn upon me, and I looked up at him so earnestly that he stopped and smiling down upon me, said, "You have taught a district school in New England, I believe?"

"Yes, sir," I answered.

"And you were examined, of course?"

"Yes, sir, and got a certificate, too," I said eagerly.

"I presume you did," he continued, "and if necessary I can give you another, for I have been doing nothing more or less than trying to find out how much you know. As I have before hinted, I am perfectly satisfied, and unless you leave from choice, you will remain at Cedar Grove."

He spoke as one having full authority to do as he pleased, and I instinctively felt that though nominally Mrs. Lansing was mistress there, he, in reality, was the leader, the head, whose bidding every one obeyed. The change from utter despondency to almost perfect happiness was too great, and withdrawing my hand from his arm, I sat down upon the stairs and cried like a child, while he stood, looking down upon me and thinking, I dare say, that I was a very foolish girl. At last, when I thought his patience was nearly exhausted, I wiped my eyes, and starting up, said, "You have made me very happy, Mr. Delafield, for I could not have borne the disgrace of being sent home as incompetent. I can play for you now, or for Mrs. Lansing either."

And the result proved that I was right, for I exceeded my own expectations, and was astonished at myself.

"Angeline," said he, in a slightly commanding voice, as that lady looked curiously in at the door, "Angeline, come here;" and she crossed over to his side, where he detained her by placing his arm around her waist.

For a moment then I wavered, for though I could not fee, I could feel the haughty gaze of the large black eyes, which I knew were bent upon me.

"You have done well, Miss Lee," he said, when at last I arose from the instrument, at the same time playfully touching my cheeks, which were burning with feverish excitement.

That night, after I had retired to my room, Halbert and Jessie came to the door, requesting permission to come in. I admitted them, when Jessie, jumping into my lap, said, "Oh, I'm so glad you are going to stay. Hal says so."

"Yes," put in Hal, "Uncle Dick told me that you mustn't be sent away, for you were a heap better scholar than she had represented you to be."

"Perhaps it will not be as Mr. Delafield says," I remarked; and Hal quickly rejoined, "Yes, it will; ma does just what he tells her to do; and then, too, he pays the governess, for I heard him say so, and he told her if you were dismissed 'twas the last one he'd hire. And he said she must treat you better than she did Miss Rawson, for you were very young, and little things hurt your feelings, and when Ada came home, she mustn't domineer over you, for he wouldn't allow it. Oh, I like Uncle Dick. Don't you?"

The moonlight was streaming across the floor, but it did not reveal the blush which deepened on my cheek as I faintly answered "Yes," bidding him at the same time not to tell of it, for I began to feel afraid of the boy's loquacity. That night I dreamed of "Uncle Dick," whose name was the last which sounded in my ears when I fell asleep, and the first of which I thought when I awoke in the morning. As I was dressing, I heard little Jessie on the piazza, singing in her childish way, "I love Uncle Dick, I do, and so does Hal, and so does Mis-ses Lee!"

"Who told you that, Pussy?" asked a voice which I recognized as Mr. Delafield's, and very nervously I listened for Jessie's answer, which was, "Oh, I know she does. Hal asked her didn't she like you, and she said she did."

"Rather early to avow a preference, I think. I shouldn't wonder if a Miss Rawson performance were ot be enacted a second time," said another voice, which I knew to be that of Mrs. Lansing, who had joined her brother upon the piazza.

"Angeline," said Mr. Delafield, somewhat sternly, "don't be foolish. If Halbert asked Miss Lee if she liked me, wasn't it the most natural thing in the world for her to say 'Yes.' I do wish you'd rid yourself of the impression that every girl who looks at me is in love with me, or that I am in love with every lady to whom I choose to be polite."

"Do you think Miss Lee pretty?" asked Mrs. Lansing, without paying any attention to his last remark.

Up to this point I could not well help overhearing their conversation, for I was arranging my hair before the mirror which stood near the window; but now there was no longer any necessity for my remaining there, and I resolutely walked away, though I would have given much to have heard his answer. He had gone home when I went down to the breakfast-room, where I found Mrs. Lansing, who greeted me rather coldly, and appeared slightly embarrassed. I had purposely donned my traveling dress, for though Mr. Delafield had said I was to stay, I felt that she too must do the same ere I had a right to remain. The sight of my dress seemed to annoy her, for it brought to her cheeks two bright red spots which grew deeper all the while we were at breakfast. When it was over, and the children had gone out, I very composedly asked her "how long before the stage would call for me."

Turning her flashing black eyes upon me, she said, "Do you mean to insult me, Miss Lee? The stage has been gone an hour. I supposed you knew you were to remain."

"Mr. Delafield intimated as much," I answered; "but my engagement was with you, not him, and until I hear from you that I am expected to stay, I do not of course feel at liberty to do so."

She brightened up perceptibly, and after saying something about Richard's meddling in her affairs, replied, "I presume you were embarrassed when you first came, and so could not appear to advantage; and as my brother thinks you are a tolerably fair scholar, I have decided to keep you."

I bowed in acquiescence, and she continued: "There is something, however, which I must first say to you; but as this is not the proper place, you will go with me to my room."

I complied with her request, and closing the door, she began with a long preamble as to the proper way for a young lady to conduct herself in the presence of gentlemen, especially those who were every way her superiors. "For instance," said she, "there's my brother Richard, who is rather noted for his familiar, affectionate manner towards the ladies. As long as he confines himself to his equals I do not so much mind it, but when he lavishes his attentions upon my governesses, I think it wrong, for he might, you know, raise hopes which of course could never be realized. Now, Miss Rawson was a very silly girl who thought herself beautiful, and ere I was aware of it she was deeply in love with Richard. Of course, he cared nothing for her, even if he did play with and caress her. It is his way, and he means nothing by it. Then, too, Miss Rawson was rather handsome, and Richard has always been a passionate admirer of beauty. He used to say, when he was younger, that he never could love a woman who was not beautiful, and I've sometimes thought that the sight of a pretty face completely upset him. For this reason I prefer having a plain-looking governess. Miss Rawson was far too pretty, and after my trouble with her I determined to employ none but ugly ones. This is why I wrote to you concerning your personal appearance, which is, I am sorry to say, so much more prepossessing than I had reason to suppose. Still I do not apprehend any difficulty, provided you are always reserved and distant in Richard's presence, and decline any attentions he may occasionally offer you. Miss Montrose, of whom you have heard us speak, will probably be home this summer, and then his time will be occupied with her. I do not think he will ever marry any one, but if he does, it will undoubtedly be Ada. I won't detain you longer," she added, as she saw me try to suppress a yawn; "I won't detain you any longer than to warn you once more against being as silly as Miss Rawson was—the foolish thing—only think of it, my governess in love with my brother, and he a Delafield?"

It was very absurd, I thought; and mentally resolving not to fall into a like error, I repaired to the schoolroom, where in due time I was joined by the children, little Jessie bringing me a beautiful bouquet, which she said "Uncle Dick had arranged for me."

Feeling anxious to please Mrs. Lansing, my first impulse was to send the flowers back, but upon second thoughts, I concluded that this would not come under the head of "attentions," and so all the morning they stood in the tiny vase, which Halbert brought to hold them, all except one rosebud which Jessie selected from the group, and twined among my curls. This at the dinner-table attracted the watchful eye of my employer, who, without any apparent motive, casually remarked upon its beauty, saying, "It looked like a species of rose which grew in her brother's garden," and adding that "she did not know as there were any of that kind on her grounds."

I blushed crimson, while Jessie answered, "It didn't grow here. Uncle Dick brought it to her with a heap more."

Casting upon me a frowning glance, Mrs. Lansing said, "Seems to me you have forgotten the conditions on which I kept you."

This was the first I had heard of conditions; but so anxious was I to retain my situation, that I resolved to please her at all hazards, and stammering out that "Jessie put it in my hair," I tore it from among my curls and threw it upon the floor. Then, as soon as dinner was over, I went up to the schoolroom, and removing the bouquet from the vase, threw that too, from the window. Very wonderingly, little Jessie looked up in my face, asking "why I did it," and if "I didn't love flowers."

"Very, very much," I answered; "but your mother don't want me to keep them."

That afternoon he came to visit us "officially," he said, and when I saw his winning manner, and how much of sunshine he brought with him, I did not wonder that one as susceptible as Miss Rawson was represented to be, should have fallen in love with him. But with me it was different. I had been warned against his pleasant, affectionate ways; and so, when in conversing with me and Lina, he threw his arm around her waist and laid his hand carelessly upon my shoulder, I moved quickly away, while I was sensible of a deepening flush upon my face. He seemed puzzled, and for an instant looked inquiringly at me, as if to ask a reason for my conduct. He was showing Lina a book of engravings, and after a while called me to look at a picture which he thought was particularly fine. I complied with his request, and wishing to see more, took a seat at his side, when either purposely, or from force of habit, he threw his arm across the back of my chair. The action reminded me of Dr. Clayton, and I was feeling somewhat annoyed, when looking up I met the haughty eyes of Mrs. Lansing, who was passing the door, and had stopped to look in. This of course embarrassed me, and hardly knowing what I did, I said rather angrily, "You will oblige me, Mr. Delafield, by taking your arm from my chair. It does not look well."

"Certainly," said he, instantly removing it; "I was not before aware that it was there," and a very peculiar smile was perceptible about his mouth, as he, too, caught sight of his sister, who, with an approving nod for me, passed on.

I could have cried with vexation, for I feared he would think me very prudish, and I knew well enough that his familiarity was only the promptings of an unusually kind and affectionate nature. After staying a few moments longer, he arose to go, saying as he turned towards me, "Jessie gave you my flowers, I suppose."

"Yes, sir," I replied, while my face again grew scarlet. "They were beautiful, and I thank you very much."

"I am glad to hear it," he continued, looking me steadily in my eyes. "I thought perhaps, you did not like them when I found them on the walk, withered and dried by the sun."

I was trying to think what to say by way of apology for thus treating his gift, when little Jessie came to my relief, by saying, "She didn't like to throw 'em away, but ma didn't want her to keep 'em."

"Ah, yes. I understand it now," said he, adding in an undertone, as he shook my hand, in accordance with the southern custom of bidding good-by: "I hope, Miss Lee, you will exercise your own judgment in such trivial matters as that."

That night I cried myself to sleep, half wishing I had never come to Cedar Grove, for I knew Mrs. Lansing would prove an exacting, unreasonable mistress; and when, Ada came home, my situation, I thought, would be anything but agreeable; while, worse than all the rest, was the fear that I had displeased Mr. Delafield, and appeared very ridiculous in his eyes. Supposing he had put his arm on my chair, was that any reason why I should get angry and speak to him as I did? It was his way, and as he had said, he was not himself aware of what he was doing. Of course, then, he would think me very foolish, and would ever after treat me with coolness and indifference. How then was I surprised, when the next morning, in the presence of his sister, he handed me a much larger and handsomer bouquet than the one of the preceding day, saying, as he did so, "I want you to keep this and not throw it away, as you did my other one."

Mrs. Lansing's face, which had been unusually placid and serene, now looked cloudy and disturbed; but she said nothing; neither did she ever again make any allusion to the flowers which so frequently came to me from Sunny Bank. One reason for this might have been that she was otherwise perfectly satisfied with the conduct of her brother, which, by the way, was not wholly satisfactory to me! It is true, he was very polite, very kind; but there was about him a reserve which I could not understand, for after that little affair in the schoolroom, he never treated me with the same familiarity which marked his deportment towards the other young ladies, who came to the house. He did not like me, I said, and the thought that I was disagreeable to him made me very unhappy. To be sure, he was almost constantly at Cedar Grove, where he spent most of the time in the schoolroom, "superintending us," he told his sister, who, believing me rather inefficient, made no objection to his supposed supervision of Lina's studies. He did not often talk much to me, but I frequently met the earnest gaze of his piercing dark eyes, particularly when little Jessie sat in my lap, listening to my instructions; and once when Herbert asked him for "a copy,"—something beginning with "R," he wrote "Rosa Lee, Meadow Brook, Massachusetts." Still he disliked me—I was sure of that; and though I did not then know why it was, the impression that I was to him an object of aversion made me unhappy, and almost every day I cried, while Mrs. Lansing more than once told me that "she did not believe the South agreed with me, for I was not half so plump and rosy as when I first came."

About this time, too, a Miss Dean, from the village, who had evinced quite a liking for me, told me, confidentially, that Mr. Delafield and Ada were certainly engaged; adding, that "it was sometimes sickening to see them together"—a fact I could not doubt, knowing him as I did, and remembering Ada's demeanor towards Herbert when they were engaged. From the same source, too, I learned that Mr. Montrose and the elder Mr. Delafield had been warm friends; and that the latter, who died when both Mrs. Lansing and Richard were quite young, had committed them to the care of Mr. Montrose, who was to them the kindest of fathers until the time of his death, which occurred a few years after Mrs. Lansing's marriage, when Richard was just of age. To his guardianship, therefore, as to that of a brother, had Mr. Montrose left his daughter, then a beautiful girl of seventeen; and since that time she had lived with Mrs. Lansing, who, though she appeared to love the young orphan, still opposed her marriage with her brother; not from any aversion to Ada, but because she did not wish Richard to marry at all, as in case he did not, his property would, in all probability, fall to her children, she being the only heir. When I asked her why Mr. Delafield was worth so much more than Mrs. Lansing, she replied, that the elder Mr. Delafield, in his will, had left two-thirds of his property to his son, bequeathing the other third to his daughter, whose husband had wasted nearly the whole in his extravagant manner of living. Cedar Grove, too, she said, was mortgaged to Richard for more than it was worth, and it was wholly owing to his forbearance and extreme generosity that Mrs. Lansing was enabled to support her present style of living. This, she said, aside from Mrs. Lansing's hope that her children would one day inherit her brother's wealth, was a sufficient reason why she wished him to remain a bachelor, as the presence of a wife at Sunny Bank would, in all probability, lessen his liberality towards herself. Miss Dean, who seemed to be well posted, also told me that, in case Mrs. Lansing saw her brother was determined to marry, she would, of course, prefer that he should marry Ada, who was quite a favorite, inasmuch as she had money of her own, and was connected with one of the first families in South Carolina.

All this I believed, and when I saw how anxious Mrs. Lansing appeared for Ada's return, and how much interest Mr. Delafield, too, seemed to take in her, I felt sure that matters were at last amicably arranged, and that, for once, rumor was right in saying that Sunny Bank would, in the autumn, be graced by the presence of a mistress. Latterly, Mr. Delafield had been making some repairs, and only a few days before, when I chanced to be there with Jessie, he had taken me through his library into a little, pleasant, airy room, which he was fitting up with great elegance.

"This," said he, laughingly, "I design as the boudoir of Mrs. Delafield, when I shall be fortunate enough to boast such an appendage to my household; and as a woman's taste is supposed to be superior to that of men, I want your opinion. How do you like it? Do you think it would suit my wife, if I had one?"

Of course he meant Ada, and in fancy I saw her reclining upon the luxurious lounges, or gazing out upon the vine-wreathed piazza, and wealth of flowers, which greeted my view when I looked from the large bay window. For an instant I dared not trust my voice to speak, and when at last I did so, I am sure it must have trembled, for he came to my side and looked me earnestly in the face, while he smiled at my answer.

"It ought to suit her, unless her home heretofore has been Paradise."

After that I had not the least doubt of his engagement with Ada, and I began seriously to think of going back to Meadow Brook to take charge of a select school, which was about to be opened there. I had now been in Georgia about four months, and one night I went down to the pleasant summer-house at the foot of the garden. It was a beautiful moonlight night and the air was almost oppressive with the sweet fragrance of the flowers. Why I went there I hardly know, only I fancied I could better make up my mind as to my future course, if I were alone and in the open air. "Nobody likes me here," I said to myself, as I took a seat within the arbor, "nobody but Halbert and Jessie. Mrs. Lansing is freaky and cross, Lina, selfish and indifferent, while Mr. Delafield thinks only of Ada's return, which I so much dread, and to be rid of meeting her I will go home before she comes." So I decided that on the morrow, I would make known my determination to Mrs. Lansing, who I fancied would be glad, while Mr. Delafield would not be affected either way. I was nothing to him—he was nothing to me—so I reasoned, and then I made plans for the future, just as other maidens of eighteen have done, when their heart was aching with a heavy pain, whose cause they did not understand. I should never marry—that was a settled point—I should teach school all my days, and by the time I was twenty-five (it seemed a great way off then) I should have a school of my own, "LEE SEMINARY" I would call it, and I had just completed the arrangement of the grounds, which somehow bore a strong resemblance to those of Sunny Bank, when I was roused from my reverie by the sound of a footstep, and in a moment Mr. Delafield stood at the entrance of the summer-house. He evidently did not expect to find me there, for he started back at first, and then, hoping he did not intrude, came to my side, saying, "A penny for your thoughts, Miss Lee, provided they are not as gloomy as your face would indicate."

"You can have them for nothing," I returned, elevating my eyebrows, and drawing down the corners of my mouth as if I felt that in some way he had injured me.

"You are blue to-night, and have been so for several days. What is the matter?" he asked, at the same time throwing his arm around my waist with his olden familiarity."

Quickly remembering himself, however, he withdrew it, saying as he did so, "I beg your pardon, Miss Lee. I am so in the habit of taking such liberties, that I forgot myself!" and he moved off a little distance. I could have cried with vexation, for though it might have been, improper, I was perfectly willing to sit there with his arm around me! It might have dispelled all idea of the "LEE SEMINARY" of which I was to be Principal! But he gave me no such opportunity, and folding his arms as if to keep them in their place, he continued, "But tell me, Miss Lee, what is the matter. You do not seem yourself?"

It was perfectly proper for me to tell him, I thought, and very deliberately I unfolded to him my plan of returning home within a week, if Mrs. Lansing were willing, which I was sure she would be, as she had never been quite satisfied with my acquirements. When I had finished speaking, I turned towards him, not to see what effect my words had produced, for I had not the most remote idea that he would care. Great then was my surprise, when I saw the blank expression of his face, which looked darker than ever. Starting up, he walked two or three times rapidly across the little arbor, and then resuming his seat, said gently, "Have you been unhappy here, Miss Lee?"

I could hardly repress my tears as I told him how much I liked the south land, and how I should hate to leave it.

"Why then do you do so?" he asked; and I answered "I can do more good at home; nobody likes me here."

He came nearer to my side, as he said, "Nobody likes you! oh, Rose, there is one at least who more than likes"——

It was the first time he had ever called me Rose, and it thrilled me with an indefinable emotion; but so impressed was I with the idea of his engagement with Ada, that I never dreamed of interpreting his words, as I now think he meant I should; and ere he could say more, I interrupted him with, "Yes—little Jessie loves me, I know, and when I think of her, I would fain stay."

Still nearer to me he came, as he said, "And think you Jessie is the only one who loves you?"

If ever Mrs. Lansing's belief that I was non compos mentis was verified, it was then; for with the utmost stupidity I answered, "Why, no; Halbert likes me, but both he and Jessie will forget me when I am gone, and learn to love another."

I think he was quite disgusted; for with a slight gesture of impatience he changed his manner, and in a very businesslike way began to reason the case with me, urging a great many reasons why I should not leave; the most potent one with me, being the fact that he wanted me to stay—"he would miss me very much," he said, "for he liked my society—it was a pleasure to talk with me, for he was sure I meant what I said; I was natural—truthful—so different from most of the young ladies (of course he excepted Ada), and then, too, it seemed as if he had known me always, or at least, had met me before, for my voice was familiar."

I could not tell him of our meeting in Boston, but I saw no harm in reminding him of the night, when for a few hours I was his traveling-companion, and so to his last remark, I answered, "We have met before, in the cars between Attica and Albany."

In some surprise he looked earnestly at me a moment, and then said, "Is it possible? Why have you never mentioned it before?"

"Because, sir," I replied, "I did not suppose you would remember me."

He appeared thoughtful for a time, and then again, looking closely at me, said, "I did not, I believe, get a glimpse of your features then, and still it seems as if I had seen them before—or something like them. At all events, I sometimes dream of a childish face, which must resemble you as you were a few years ago."

Once I half determined to remind him of the little girl who fainted at the theater; but ere I did so, he continued. "When I met you in the cars, if I mistake not, you spoke of Miss Montrose. Did you ever see her? but of course not," he added, ere I had time to reply. I cannot tell why I shrank from acknowledging my slight acquaintance with Ada, but I did, and for a moment I said nothing; then thinking it would be wrong to give him a false impression, I said, "I can hardly say that I am acquainted with Miss Montrose; but I have met her several times at my uncle's in Boston, where I spent the winter, four years ago."

Again he bent forward as if to scan my face, while he replied, "Indeed! Were you in Boston then? It is strange Ada never spoke of you, or you of her before. Was there a misunderstanding between you?"

"Oh, no," I answered quickly; "she was a fashionable young lady, and I a mere schoolgirl; so, of course, we knew but little of each other."

"What was your uncle's name?" he inquired; and I answered "Lee," noticing the while, how the shadow which had settled upon his face at the mention of Boston, passed gradually away.

For a moment he was silent, and then rather abruptly, he asked, "Did you like her?"

I remembered the time when Dr. Clayton had asked me a similar question concerning Dell Thompson, and now, as then, I answered evasively, that "I hardly knew her—she was very beautiful and accomplished."

Here he interrupted me by saying, "I did not ask if you thought her beautiful. I asked if you liked her."

I felt a little annoyed, for I thought he had no right thus to question me, and forgetting that she was to be his wife, I replied, "No, sir, I did not like her. Neither do I think she liked me, or my sister who was with me; and this is one reason why I wish to leave before her return."

I supposed he would be offended at hearing me speak thus of her, but he was not; he merely smiled as he answered, "Ada has many faults, I know, but I do not believe your situation will be less pleasant on account of her presence. If it is, just state the case to me. I am competent to manage it, I believe; besides that, it is uncertain how long she will remain at Cedar Grove."

He commenced plucking at the green vine-leaves which grew above my head, while I turned my face away to hide my emotions; for of course, when Ada left Cedar Grove, it would be as his bride, I thought, and was surprised when he continued, "The cousin with whom she is traveling in Europe, has won from her a half promise that she will spend next winter with her in New Orleans, and if so she will leave in October; so you see, she can't annoy you long; and now you must promise me not to leave us unless she prove perfectly disagreeable."

There is not, I believe, the least coquetry in my nature, and I replied frankly that I would stay.

"You have made me very happy, Miss Lee," said he, rising up and laying his hand upon my head, just as a father might caress his child, for he was thirty-one and I was eighteen!

That night I pondered long upon what he had said, recalling every word and look, and at last, when a ray of light faintly glimmered upon my befogged intellect, I hid my face in the pillow, lest the moonlight, which shone around me, should read thereon the secret thought which I scarcely dared to harbor for a moment. Could it be possible that he loved me, and but that for my unaccountably stupid blunder in thrusting first Jessie and then Halbert in his face, he would have told me so! But no—it was impossible. He was probably engaged to Ada. She was beautiful and rich—I was homely and poor. It could not be. And then, my reader, did I first awake to the consciousness of how much I loved him; and how, when he was wedded to another, the world would be to me naught but a dreary blank. Anon, I remembered my former affection for Dr. Clayton, and then I grew calm. I had outgrown that, I said, and in all probability I should outlive this, my second heart-trouble. So, falling back upon the "Lee Seminary" as something which was to comfort me in my lone pilgrimage, I fell asleep and dreamed that Mr. Delafield's children, amounting in all to a dozen, were every one placed under my special charge!