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Professor ConantV 7

A STOEY OF ENGLISH AND AMERICAN SOCIAL AND

POLITICAL LIFE.

HON. L. S. HUNTINGTON, Q.c,

(Late Postmasteb-Geneeai, ok Canada, &c.. &o., Ac.)

It l8 not that I adulate the people •

In',TL7l^"" "'' demagogues'enough.
And infidels to pull down every steeple

And set up in their stead «on.. comn^on stuff.

I do not know_I wish men to be free
As much from mobs as klngs-from you as me.

LoBD Btbou.

TORONTO :
KOSE PUBLISHING CO.

1884.
[AU rights reserved.]

CoFTlilGHT, 1884,

Bt r. worthington.

PRESS Of J. J. LITTLE i CO .
Mrs. 10 10 M ASTOH PLACE. NEW YORJ.

PROFESSOR GOLDWIN SMITH, D.C.I,.,

I pcbirale ll)is little Sior^i,

BT PEBUISSION,

AS A TBIDT7TE OF BEBPECT FOB HIS OBEAT BEPCTATION

AN EMINENT PtTBLICIST,

AN ACUTE AKD LIBERAL THINKER,

AND A BRILLIANT WRITER,

AND AS A TOKEN OF

personal estfem and friendship.

The Author.

159 W. 4Cth St.,

New Yobk, Apbil, 1884.

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PREFACE.

The characters that flit along these pages were
pleasant companions of the author's enforced seclusion
during the weeks in which they were written. Some of
them should be careful thinkers in their various walks
of life; and they should all be good talkers, for they
are well instructed and they have seen the world. Their
discussions are, of course, cursory, for they pick up
topics and lay them down again, in rapid succession.
If we listen sometimes to an enthusiast, a cool conserva-
tive is at hand to reply. The author assumes only the
role of a reporter, and the public will judge if he does
his work well. He is not responsible for what his char-
acters say, but only for giving them the opportunity to
say it.

Their loves and exultations, their griefs and perils,
the modest " talks," in which they discuss their plans,
and their theories of religious, political and social life
became strangely real to him who wrote. The story
ceases to be fiction when the great English Lord is
found at the feet of the American girl, and when the
great English scholar pursues his inquiries among
Massachusetts farmers and generally studies Democ-
racy as the countries of America are teaching it. "We
must all learn that lesson, kings and people, or suffer

PREFACE.

for not comprehending it. Carlyle says : " Universal
Democracy, whatever we may think of it, has declared
itself, as an inevitable fact of the days in which we
live," and a greater than Carlyle has ordained that to
study the loves of men and women is to court enchant-
ment and infatuation.

The author has thus woven a little romance with
characters English, American and Colonial, and has
ventured thereby to suggest that fealty to Liberty which
Society should exact from those wno love and would
maintain political freedom ; in the faith, that the more
nearly England and America are drawn together in every
relation which promotes human happiness, the better
service will they render mankind.

I '!

II '

XX
X}

CONTENTS.

CHAPTKn TAOB

I. A Dinner at the Tower of London 1

II. Lords and Ladies 5

III. Blood is Thicker than Water 12

IV. The Plot Thickens 25

V. The American Cousin Dazzles my Lord 88

VI. A Voice from the Trossachs 47

VII. The .Tolliest Trip ever Projected . , 62

VIII. Going Down to the Sea in Ships 68

IX. All went Merry as a Marriage Bell 77

X. Coming into the Track op a Storm 88

XI. De Luynes Discusses Burnixu Questions 97

XII. Ave Sanctissima Ill

XIII. Who Could Foresee Perils ? 127

XIV. The Kino of Terrors 141

XV. De Luynes Honored i\ Death 156

XVI. The Flags Blend with Graceful Harmony 171

XVII. The Jesuit and the Orangeman 183

XVllI. The Professor Visits Boston 190

XIX. We are Massachusetts Farmers 203

XX. The People's King in America 227

XXI. Homeward Bound 250

XXII. Thine and Mine 255

XXIII. The British Lion Fondles the Professor 273

XXIV. Gathering in the Threads 280

XXV. Nous Verrons 290

PROFESSOR CONANT.

CHAPTER I.

A DINNER AT THE TOWER OP LONDON.

" Oh, the fool !" said Tom Conant, " to sell himself to
Hymen for an ugly woman and two thousand a year.
Why not have gone io America, where, I am told, pretty
women abound, handsome and rich too, by Jove, who are
crying their eyes out for foreigners of high birth ?"

"Not so fast, young man," replied the person ad-
dressed, " she was a pretty girl and is a most interesting
woman ; I only thought her a little exacting, and that
George was somewhat under restraint. Pray, don't
quote me as an authority if you are to say these naughty
things. Mrs. George is a prophetess as well as an
heiress, and there are little birds to carry, far into the
North, the story of our confabulating here. I'll wager
you that when we next meet her she will wear an odd
smile of contempt for our opinions."

" Nonsense, Edgar, I am too much in earnest to heed
your hadinage. Poor Wallace is the type of a class ; a
brave soldier, an impecunious gentleman, beloved by
his friends and crazed by the usurers. He wins the
usual distinctions of a fast life — debts and other doubt-
ful things, and then he sells out and marries."

"Well, Tom, that seems to me better than suicide.
1 I

PROFESSOR CONANT.

If George might have done better he might have done
worse ; and, after all, the bonnie bride may even run
more risk than her Lord. My sojourn was very pleasant
in Scotland ; but the Scotch are a canny, clannish people.
It was my first viK^xfc, and they could scarcely understand
my early neglect of their country. * Did I know,' they
asked, ' when I first stepped foou in Glasgow, that I was
in the second city of the Empire? And what had I
thought when I saw the crowds pouring towards George's
Square ?' I bethought me of the Cockney's answer, but
I dared not repeat it. "What did I think? Why, I
thought v'hat numbers of Scotchmen there are still to
come South !" Tom laughed.

" That's a good joke. But, if you put it in a book, only
London Scotchmen will understand it. I will not quote
the familiar slander about a surgical operation; but
look at his Lordship now, to come near home, and tell
me if you think he would take it in ! "

" Ah, no," replied Col. Lyons, " his Lordship never
laughs at anything Scotch. He told me himself that he
thought Dean Ramsay's ' Reminiscences ' an utter waste
of powder and shot. But he's no fool, though he is
peculiar. I believe, like Dundreary, ho might be still
in doubt as to whether a certain nondescript young
lady likes cheese ; but he's a good iellow, all the same,
and now he comes "

A tall, slight man with an uncertain gait and a nervous
manner approached the group. He was reserved but
gentle, and you saw that he was welcome and among
friends.

"Is Tom in mischief to-night as usual?" he asked,
good humoredly ; but he was only answered with a laugh
and a protest from Capt. Conani

A DINNER AT THE TOWER OF LONDON.

Lord Bolton was older than Lis companions, though
still in the freshness and vigor of life. He never talked
of his age ; he never encouraged others to speak of it.
He might regret the days of his early youth, or he
might dread the knowledge of good and evil that comes
with years. Dr. Blair somewhere remarks that "at
thirty a man puspects himself a fool, at forty he knows
it." My Lord never enlightens you about his suspi-
cions. "Don't speak of birthdays," he would say,
" their admonitions are unpleasant."

His finely formed head was " silvered o'er," but you
knew it was not the frost of age ; and, if his pleasing
face seemed a little weary, you saw it was still young,
and had not been worn with years of labor. He spoke,
at first, with a slight lisp, and with a diffident manner ;
but he had been known to display earnestness, and at
times eloquence. His perceptions were not quick, but
his good sense was proverbial. Perhaps his sayings
would pass into proverbs more readily than those of
humbler folk. Some of his young friends were critical,
and they found him a laggard in love and slow to inter-
pret a joke. All this may change as we see and hear
more of him. His associates might differ as to his
eccentricities, but he had a kindly word for them all.

Our friends are guests of Col. Lyons, of the

Guards, whose regiment had been lately detailed for
garrison duty at the old Tower of London. A party of
young officers and their friends have assembled and are
av/aiting dinner in the mess-room, once sacred to the
sorrows of great prisoners of State. On the walls
around might still be seen lines traced by the delicate
hand of the Lady Jane Grey, in the dismal solitude of
her last imprisonment.

4 PROFESSOR COKAAT.

The great fortress slept, with all her landmarks and
trophies, her memories of generations of cruelty, and
the contests — now glorious, anon reeking with infamy —
through which the fabric of British liberty was built up.

The place calls up many reminiscences to-night, for
the Lord High Constable is among the guests, but few
of them are contemplating the past. The speculations
of the antiquaries, if there be any among the present
gathering, are not concerned with the early morning
of history. Contemplation may come with the morrow ;
just now the guests are drowning thought in their
happy revels, and their boisterous laughter provokes no
echo of remonstrance, or reproach from the illustrious
shadows that have so long hovered over the mysteries
of the Tower.

^ii

CHAPTER II.

LOEDS AND LADIES.

The painter in oil and the sculptor in marble produce
the form, the pose, perhaps even the expression of
features, which it is only left for the word-painter to
describe.

The mass of men think so much by images that they
need a palpable figure, a material copy, to create an im-
pression, while the word-r>ainter seldom achieves more
than the musical jingle of his words. The advantages
are reversed when we come to describe qualities instead
of things ; the spiritual, instead of the material, agen-
cies of being ; not because the word-picture is perfect,
but because art cannot scan the domain of the imma-
terial, nor, within it, can she " hold nature up to na-
ture's God." And yet, it does not follow that one
should never paint in words what can be photographed
by the sun. Enough may be fairly deduced to shorten
many pen-and-ink sketches, and perhaps lighten the
labor, and sometimes even the sin, of many readers ;
some of wliom weary over much description, and others,
alas ! wickedly vault it altogether.

Tom Conant was the son of an Oxford professor of
distinction, who had lately added to a life of scholastic
honors the dignities of a member of Her Majesty's
House of Commons. He was an author of repute, and
a gentleman of undoubted culture and bonhomie. Though
he still loved his Alma Mater, and maintained his

'Hi

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6 PROFESSOR CONANT.

nominal connection with her, he was an ardent Liberal,
and gave the best powers of his well-stored mind to his
country's service. A " young member," as the phrase
goes, he had taken high position in the House, and his
learning and industry had been recognized by the
appointment to many chairmanships, while his careful
and intelligent discussion of questions relating to the
higher work of administration was rapidly increasing
his influence both in the House and the country.

Tom was his father's especial weakness. He was
proud of the boy's fine qualities, and he knew better
than Tom dreamed about his faults, which he regarded
as venial, and which he said " Tom would manage
in time." " The boy is his mother's son," he would
say, " full of nervous energy and faith. He is gener-
ous, and perhaps extravagant, but look at what tempta-
tions he has in the Guards. He will have sown his
wild oats at a younger age than most boys ; yet he has
not sown them very thick, if I know him truly. I
believe he has kept few secrets from me. Dear me I
Tom will be a man soon. He is twenty-two, if he is a
day."

Tom, on the other hand, was passionately fond of his
father. The two were often, so to speak, confidential
when they were alone together — ^but when the world
was about them, they were men. Did they dream what
labors and triumphs each would yet sustain in the
other's life ?

Lord Bolton was heir to a peer of the realm. His
ancestors were with William the Conqueror — errone-
ously so-called, because he only conquered the usurper,
Harold — ard negotiated terms with the nation whose
laws he swore to maintain. My Lord never knew what

LORDS AND LADIES.

had been the station of his great progenitor under the
Norman monarch. It was enough that he " came over,"
and, for the rest, he might have been prince or beggar.
His family had been ennobled, and, on one side or
other, had served England bravely in all her great
struggles of war or peace. His grandfather had been a
favorite of George the Fourth, and his father was at one
time Prime Minister of England. On his mother's side
had descended the glories of Blenheim in that direct
family-line which for nigh two hundred years has ab-
sorbed the national benefactions. His ample estates
testified to his substantial lineage, and he was to inherit
his father s boundless wealth, including his " cattle on
a thousand hills." What need my Lord care for wits,
their jokes or their methods? If he was sometimes
dull, might he not be a patron, and in his train have a
retinue of punsters and poets and painters? What
could be denied him, this great Lord, with his mighty
name and his vast possessions ? True, the times might
change ; they were changing. One could submit to
competition from a Rothschild, though the finger-marks
of commerce were seen on his doors. A Lord Mayor
might be forgiven ducal splendors, for he rules over
millions and speaks with the voice of the law. But
Commerce levels all things. The costermonger of
to-day may be His G-race the Duke de CJiemin-de-fer of
the near decade ; even now, wealth has no monopoly of
rank, for the commonest people are invested with it ;
and with all this distribution of wealth, titles them-
selves may lose prestige in England.

" They must be a strange people in America," said
my Lord, " if one may judge from the Americans I have
mot in my travels. They love titles there, I am told,

:1 I

i!l

'.illi

ill

PROFESSOR CONANT,

though they are growing to be debatable blessings at
home. One might do worse than go across. I am
going to America, Tom," said my Lord. "Will you
come ? "

Tom did not suppress any involuntary surprise as he
answered : " Thanks ! That would be jolly, indeed ; but
I must first see my father, and will you bid me try and
persuade him to join us ? He needs rest."

" All right," said my Lord, as if he had been a rail-
way guard, and not the titled possessor of millions.

That night, before Tom retired, he sought his father,
and pressed him to be one of Lord Bolton's party.

"I really need the rest, Tom," said the Professor,
" and I have not been in America these ten vears. The
pleasure of going with you, my boy, would be an addi-
tional incentive."

" Thanks, father," Tom answered gayly ; " Bolton is
of the salt of the earth, say what they will about him.
I was annoyed by an ill-natured remark of Fred Cuth-
bert to-night," continued Tom ; " Bolton will fulfil his
mission in life," Fred had said. "How's that?" I
asked, half absently. " He will prove that talent is not
hereditary," was the rejoinder.

" Fred will not prove that it is," said the professor,
dryly, " if he pretends to inherit his gifts from Sir John
Cuthbert."

Tom Oonant went to Brighton to spend the Sunday
with his mother and some friends. They had just re-
turned from church where a great New York preacher
had much interested and a little disturbed them.

" You see," said Tom, " the theme was grand, and the
discourse was full of noble thoughts, presented with
the skill of a master ; but there was a vein of levity

LORDS AND LADIES.

here and there, which we don't look for in the pulpit.
One felt there was a charm which one ought to resist.
Sometimes I wanted to cheer. Do you remember that
story of the old woman who heard the Choral Litany
for the first time, and who said it was ' sweet, but it was
an awful way to spend the Sabbath? ' "

" Yes," said Tom's mother, " we are accustomed to a
certain solemnity in the treatment of sacred things.
But vivacity gives warmth and life, and the preacher,
no doubt, finds great wealth of illustration in the most
familiar fields. There ought to be a via media between
the humdrum and the sensational. Worship is an act
of adoration ; it is emotional as well as reverent. I like
Doctor Elmwood, and have invited him and his niece to
lunch with us. The young lady is shy, but you will
find the Doctor an intelligent and interesting man."

" Whew ! " thought Tom, " An American girl ! " But
he answered, " Yes, mother, I am sure I shall be de-
lighted to meet him." So saying, Tom kissed his
mother, and retired to his room.

" I wonder what she is like," he soliloquized, " this
American niece of an American parson ! " And striding
up and down his room, he hummed to a pensive air : —

" Or soft black eyes, or melting blue,
Which has the darling of the two?"

Tom Conant had not lost the freshness of his boy-
hood, though he had come to man's estate. Without
being a great scholar he was well educated, both by
study and travel. He had taken a respectable position
both at school and college, even a brilliant one,
wherever hard knocks could be dispensed with, and
native talent pulled him through.

PROFESSOR CON ANT.

iiiil

I '

His father, who had been a great worker, had been
willing to spare the son the drudgery he had endured ;
and if he had not altogether approved Tom's choice
of the army, he had seen in it a relief from the unre-
mitting strain of his own occupations. " Tom's tastes
do not lead him my way," he said, " and without love for
the work, the burden of it would be intolerable." And
so the son was left to be what we have found him, an ac-
complished, generous, impulsive young man of the world.

America had been to Tom the usual terra incognita of
Britons. The geography of the New World he had been
taught, but its people he had never seen; moreover,
what he had read was generally inconsistent, and very
often uncomplimentary. He knew they were fifty mil-
lions — a multitudinous people. They had lately emerg-
ed from a great war, with a million of men in arms.
But the Chinese had numbers, and the society-journals
were discussing the points of resemblance between them
and his cousins across the sea.

Notwithstanding the humors of the critics, he re-
membered that the people of this mysterious western
land were but an offshoot of the old stock — Britons
modified, if not improved ; and he had a profound re-
gard for their history and their achievements. But, at
the present moment, it was not with Tom a question of
vital or political statistics. He would look into graver
questions later. If the truth must be told, Tom, to-
day, was neither natural nor characteristic. But we
all have had moods we could not explain, and our
follies, even consciously to ourselves, have had a begin-
ning. Had the new preacher so impressed him, or was
he surrendering to the young American girl, whom he
had not seen ? '

LORDS AND LADIES.

Tom's thoughts pursued him in his dreams. He dared
not acknowledge to himself how often his imagination
had woven fascinating visions, which might be no longer
myths, now that this little stranger had come across
tlie sea. How did he know she was little ? His mother
had said she was shy ; that was all he knew about her.
If she was sliy, she ought to be young. And was she
pretty ? Was she his fate, and should he hate her ?
She could not be rich, but he did not care for that.

He awoke and shortly after rose, exclaiming to him-
self, "What a fool I ami"

iljiiln

CHAPTER III.

BLOOD IS THICKER THAN WATER.

III

ill"

"A ROAST of beef and entremetsy^ comprised what
Mrs. Conant called lier " quiet Sunday dinner." The
Professor, as Mrs. Conant bxplained to Dr. Elmwood,
had been unwillingly detained in London. Tom shared
the honors with his mother ; on his right hand sat Miss
Agnes Winthrop, of Boston, a young lady of seventeen
summers, who was passing her last year at school on
the Continent, and at present was spending her vacation
in England with friends.

There was nothing very different from other young
ladies to be noted in Miss Winthrop's appearance. She
was a tall and graceful blonde, a charming girl, with a
bright, intr^Mgent face, a cheery voice and winning man-
ners ; and her large, laughing eyes, fringed by long,
dark lashes, and a smile of indescribable sweetness with
which she welcomed or entertained you, denoted qual-
ities of uncommon gentleness, while in otl\er respects
you were impressed as if in the presence of one whose
character would develop unusual strength.

She was not "shy," as Mrs. Conant had described
her — or, perhaps, we should say she was not timid.
By nature she seemed to be equal to great things;
but, at the first meeting, neither Tom nor the young
lady was free from embarrassment.

Are these young people ihxis, distrait and self-conscious
because, though strangers, they have dreamed of each
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BLOOD IS TIIICKER THAN WATER.

other ? Who shall fix the metes and bounds of common
sense, beyond which the extravagance of romance shall
not wander, or make plain the mysteries which regulate
the dreams of young and inexperienced hearts ?

Mrs. Oonant was an English gentlewoman, and seemed
more like the sistor than the mother of Tom, who was her
only son. She had followed three children, a son and
two daughters, to the grave. Perhaps this experience
liad cast a tinge of sadness over her earnest and expres-
sive face, which was more comely than beautiful, but,
when liglited by the glow of sympathy, was full of charm.
There are those whose whole character is expressed by
a look or a smile, who seem to invite your confidence at
first sight, and promise you the interest aad friendship
which might fitly have been born of years. You see the
soul in the eyes, and you know its gentleness and purity
by a magnetic intuition which you can feel but cannot
explain. You wonder how, all these years, you have
lived without knowing these people ; and life seems
warmer and richer when you have met them. Bound by
the tenderest ties, they have room in their hearts for a
sympathy which is universal. If one is wrong, their
very greeting is a protection ; if right, their simple pres-
ence is an encouragement. They are environed by an
atmosphere of unconscious worth, and their good in-
fluences work quiet results, to which they are strangers.

There are many such people, though they do not
abound in the world ; but good Mrs. Conant was one
of their number, and people said Tom was his mother's
son. His little sister completed the family circle, but
she is in the nursery now, listening to the hoary mys-
teries of Santa Claus and the enchantment of Mother
Goose's melodies.

PROFESSOR CONANT.

nil!

At table, Dr. Elmwoocl was beginning to load the con-
versation in a quiet way. He was the rector of a fash-
ionable church in New York, the metropolis of the
Great West. The Church of England had loft her
eldest daughter to the occupancy of America. There
was little to distinguish tho mother from the child.
Both had nominally preserved an austere orthodoxy,
which the members of each had modified and mollified
in practice. The Church was wise enough to look upon
diversities without seeing them, and broad enough to
embrace the believers of all degrees. If restless spirits
sometimes invoked controversy and challenged declara-
tions of faith, the members were generally willing to
leave mysteries to the spiritual heads, and were content,
for themselves, with seeking the wisdom to love God
supremely, and their neighbors as themselves. Dr.
Elmwood was a Broad Churchman and a devout man.
He was the idol of his people, who listened to him with
rapt attention, and lavishly put money in his purse.
Perhaps, after the weary excitement of the week, there
were vivacious passages with which the Doctor some-
times interlarded his discourses — there was a tinge of
exaggeration and hyperbole, an imagery, drawn from
familiar things, just a soupcon of quaint humor, or even
wit, which, though it had disturbed the unaccustomed
ear of Tom, was a grateful stimulant to the Doctor's
"Western hearers.

He was scholarly and logical ; his elocution was
faultless, and his oratory masterly. Nobody went to
sleep when he preached. If, within such limits, there
was scope to practise two styles of expression, who
should say when the manner of the preacher, or the
taste of the hearer waa at fault? If you have no

BLOOD IS THICKER THAN WATER.

accepted sttandard, wlio is to decide between Tom and
Dr. Elmwood's people ?

"I suppose you have often seen tlie pretty town
where my niece is at school," said the Doctor, ad-
dressing Tom for the first time. Tom replied that ho
had not, but should be more interested in seeing it now
than ever.

Mrs. Conant remembered sadly her last visit to
Heidelberg. Her little daughter had contracted the
cold there, which finally carried her off.

Tom ventured to ask if Miss Winthrop liked her
school, and was answered "yes," with the slightest
foreign accent.

Mr. Holt, who is a stranger co us, as yet, though one
of Mrs. Conant's guests, attacked the system of female
education altogether.

Tom curtly disposed of the whole subject in a sin-
gle word, whereat Mr. Holt looked flushed and mor-
tified.

Dr. Elmwood admitted its importance, and kind Mrs.
Conant felt sure that Mr. Holt was right, for the whole
system required revision.

This smoothed Mr. Holt's ruffled feathers, and, some-
what to the disgust of Tom, set him on his legs again.

Mr. Holt was inveterate, if one may apply that word
to a good talker. The famous Doctor was his vis-a-vis
and he wanted to bring him out.

" Capt. Conant thinks, perhaps, one should not intro-
duce such a subject in the presence of so distinguished
a devotee," said Mr. Holt, smiling grimly.

"If you refer to me," said the young lady, "don't
mind me at all ; I am neither the adjective nor the noun
you have mentioned, sir."

PROFESSOR CONANT.

Tom winced, but was silent, and after a pause, Dr.
Elmwood said :

"Without regard to any system, I liave serious
doubts as to the propriety of educating young Ameri-
cans in Europe at all. Of course, I do not refer to
the higher work of the universities."

"Not to go further, sir," said Tom, "such ideas
would have deprived us of a great pleasure to-day.
Miss Winthrop would not have been spending her Con-
tinental vacation in England, and Dr. Elmwood would
not have been visiting us with his niece. Seriously,
however, if no scholastic advantages are thus ac-
quired, are not such studies pursued with the happy
result of making the student a cosmopolitan ? "

"That's Avhat I object to," said the Doctor; "the
schools may be more efficient, and pupils ma}'' get on
faster when away from home, but our schools are im-
proving rapidly, and one of our boys educated here, at
Rugby or Harrow, or at any public school in England,
may become denationalized by going abroad for his
education. He will be trained with a class of boys, who
belong to an order of society unknown in his own coun-
try. He goes home unsettled, unfitted, perhaps, for
the pursuits which fortune has assigned him. No
doubt, an American boy may be trained at school with
tlie young bloods of this aristocratic land, and go home
satisfied to his yard-stick and his counting room, but for
every one such there will be another to sigh for the blue
blood and heraldic trappings of his school dreams."

" Dear me, uncle," said Miss Winthrop, " do you not
think they would be improved by the superior associa-
tions that would surround them ? "

" Ah ! " said Dr. Elmwood, " I should think so."

BLOOD IS THICKER THAN WATER.

((

I should think so too," she continued, " and they
might acquire a polish and refinement to last them all
their days."

" And learn to discount the polish and refinement of
their homes ! " broke in the Doctor.

" I quite seize your point, Doctor," said Tom, " but if
you will pardon me, I think it more plausible than ex-
act. Take English boys ; Lords and Commoners are
educated in the same class. Yet, in the great world,
the middle classes never bow down before nobility."

"You are young, Tom," said Mr. Holt, "and may
change your views as you extend your observation."

" Besides," added Dr. Elmwood, " hero both classes
are English, and there is no question of denationaliza-
tion. But a young American who apes the English
upper classes have you seen a dude ?"

" I am not quite sure," said Tom, " but I have seen what
the comic papers say about him. He is to be pitied."

" He is the ideal American dandv at home," said Dr.
Elmwood, " striving to imitate English high-life."

" But he is not the oflfspring of English schools," said
Miss Winthrop, with animation.

" I do not know," replied Dr. Elmwood, " but I would
not lead the boys into temptation."

"There is another difference between English and
American boys," said Mr. Holt, " apropos of the middle
classes not bowing the knee to the nobles, if they do
not, indeed. An English boy is satisfied to hold the posi-
tion his father held before him. He neitl^er expects
nor is ambitious, to surpass him. All young Americans,
on tlie contrary, hope to become President some day in
I their own country, and many of them would like to

jbecomo Dukes and Lords over here. There is a great
2

ill,

PROFESSOR CONANT.

iii

'III

!iii;i!

deal to be proud of, though much to improve, in our
schools. But I doubt whether all the benefits Tom
Brown derived from his school-days would be compen-
sation to an American boy for that love of his country,
and that pride in her development, which inhere in
every American at home. Just now, after many years
of experience, and after all nations, including England,
have come to acknowledge that the world is better for
what the thirteen colonies did, you don't want to build
up a sickly class of tuft-hunters in America, who, for
the sake of social chances, would sigh for the old days
of dependence."

As the ladies withdrew, Mrs. Conant politely regretted
that she should lose the pleasure of listening further to
the conversation ; and we take credit for having reported
it, or it might have been lost to the world.

" My uncle and I rarely disagree ; perhaps I ought to
make it a duty that we should never do so," said Miss
"Winthrop, in the drawing-room, to the elder lady ; " he
is so good and wise that I always feel condemned if I
have contradicted him. And, indeed, I love my own
country and am proud of my own people ; but I would
willingly see more of the grace and culture I see here
engrafted upon our popular manners. We have done a
great deal in a few years, and, in our hurry to reach
results, we are sometimes unmindful of the forms which
might add to their grace, without impairing their sub-
stance. Speaking of schools, I know a dozen well-
educated boys and girls who constantly speak, though
they would never write, ungrammatically. And this
remark applies to many of our best people in America.
From what I have seen, I should think this seldom hap-
pens in England."

BLOOD IS TnWKER THAN WATER.

** I have observed sometliing of the kind, but it is a
Teuial sin," said Mrs. Conant, kindly ; " a mere educa-
tion could not correct it. Theoretically, society is on a
common le^el in America. Our manner of speech is the
result of our associations. "We speak a language as we
are accustomed to hear it spoken. The ear is the edu-
cator. Speech is extemporaneous and leaves us no
time to apply grammatical rules. The fault that dis-
turbs you must bo common to all new countries. No
doubt the prevalence of education in America is marvel-
lous ; and if there is the need, there are also the facili-
ties for improvement. But I see the gentlemen are com-
ing, and we must take them for a stroll in the garden.''

Tom was devoted to Mr. Holt, as if he wanted to
make amends for something, and that gentleman re-
ceived his attentions with the lofty grace of one who had
not been offended.

Dr. Elmwood delighted Mrs. Conant with his knowl-
edge of flowers, and his ready interpretation of their
delicate beauties. Miss Winthrop, who had wandered
from the others, and stood alone, regarded with
rapt and absent gaze the placid waters beyond. Tom
had not been unobservant, and rather timidly joined her.

" Miss Winthrop ! " She started. " Oh, I was dream-
ing," she said, " and I had travelled far over the waters."

" And do you so long for distant scenes ? " was Tom's
answer.

"Yes, and no. I always long for home, though I
do not at present wish to go there."

*' I would like to see your home," said Tom, simply.
I" I hope before long to see America."

" Oh! I hope you will visit my country, and I wish
|I could be there to greet you."

'! Im

PROFESSOR CONANT.

" It would not seem to me like your home and you
not there," rejoined Tom.

'' But you would have a warm welcome from those
who love me, and who will know before then that you
and yours have been kind to me."

" They ought to love you. Tell me about them,"
said Tom, eagerly.

" Not now ; I must know better how you like Ameri-
cans first. I am full of my countrymen's sensitiveness
about English opinions. But, perhaps, you don't feel
much interest, yet "

" Yes, more than I should dare tell you."

" Isn't it curious," she continued, interrupting him,
*^* how we wince under the sarcasms of an English book,
magazine, or newspaper article ? And we have had
many such inflictions to bear. My Lord goes across,
and then he writes a book about what he saw when he
was there. It is a funny book, written from strange
points of observation. It is not a friendly book, though
it says kind things ; but it displays a hauteur which
chills, and assumes a superiority which affronts us.
Have you never seen such works ? "

"Yes," said Tom, "but they are not always un-
friendly."

" No, they are patronizing," she continued. " I want
you to read these books and see if you can verify their
statements in your travels. I suppose I am too young
to understand such things, but I am always wondering
why Englishmen are unjust to us."

Tom made a deprecatory shrug, and was about to
speak, but Miss Winthrop added, "I mean in their
books, you know."

Why," said Tom, in a conciliatory tone, " I hope you

((

BLOOD IS THICKER THAN WATER.

exaggerate, Miss "Wintlirop. I suppose it may be be-
cause we are jealous of your wonderful growth, and are
a lii tie on the lookout for our laurels ; but, I am sure
there is not much public sentiment to justify them, if
they are published."

" Such books are written to sell," was the quiet re-
ply, and the subject was dropped for lighter topics.

Tea was served in the arbor, but Tom did not leave
the young lady to Mr. Holt, or to anybody else ; and
later on, when the two separated, each felt that the
other was a friend, without having been told so. Will
the feeling grow and ripen as years roll on ? or will
their paths diverge till it fades into a memory ?

How little we know of the mysteries of life, except as,
one by one, they are unfolded to us !

As Mrs. Conant's guests were taking their leave, Mr.
Holt lingered, hat in hand, for a last word with his
hostess.

" It was very good of you to take so much trouble,
Eobert," she said ; " but your love of charity and your
kind action will be their own reward."

" Don't give me too much credit. Aunt," he answered,
sadly. " If I have rendered you a little service, in aiding
your good work, leave me to the lesson it teaches,
of improving neglected opportunities of doing good.
Oh, how slow I was in the work, and how your mis-
sion and your instructions have quickened me in it.
Men speak truly of charity as a virtue, and of the
Golden Rule, as if some sacrifice were entailed in the
observance of it. What human pleasure can equal
that of having wiped a tear and assuaged a grief?
What can Dives buy with all his wealth, that may equal
the satisfaction of him who has ministered according to

PROFESSOR CON ANT.

his means to the wants of the poor ? "What music can
equal in harmony the widow's thanks for the food which
has fed her starvelings ? What reward of any kind
open to human effort, can compare v.'ith the conscious-
ness of good deeds, well done, which have removed the
disabilities and aroused the gratitude of the unfortu-
nate ? Human gratitude ! The evidence of acts of
kindness, great and small — what a witness that will be
for us, in the day when we shall need a cloud of wit-
nesses ! " '

" You are magnifying a trifle, Eobert," said the lady,
modestly.

" If you had heard the messages I brought you, it
would not have seemed a trifle ! l.felt that it was more
blessed to give than to receive, and I almost envied you.
It may seem a trifle to you, an incident in your life
work; but to me it was an experience, and I shall
cherish it. And I hope, in some small way, to cultivate
the spirit of your act. What men we might become
with such angels of mercy to lead us !" he continued,
musingly. " What misery and sin we might alleviate or
even turn to joy ! "

" Thank God," she said, " if your little plan has really
relieved misery and made the stricken heart light again.
We must not lose sight of these poor people. It is your
work more than mine. But there is more to do. That
woman is not the mother of the little girl, I think, and
when they are all well again, we shall have a mystery
to unravel."

" You will command me when you want me," said
Robert Holt. " I can wear Heaven's livery in your ser-
vice, Mrs. Conant, and never tire of the wo '

s^t me to do.

you may

BLOOD IS THICKER THAN WATER.

Thank yon," she answered, softly, " I shall see tliem
in London soon. In the meantime our experience must
be secret till we know more."

That night, in his lodgings, Robert Holt wondered
that the appearance of these strange people had not
suggested more even to him. " But the man and woman
were sick with fever," he said. " There was little to
denote the condition of life to which they belonged ;
and I only noticed the child's wonderful eyes, and
thought of the quickest means to rescue her from
danger. She is safe with the old nurse at the hospital.
She is too young to tell her story, if she has one, but
if there is a mystery it may transpire. What a won-
derful woman is Mrs. Conant, with all her social and
domestic cares, to find time for so much love and good-
will for strangers ! I wish Tom knew more of his
mother's work. He might aid her, and he is equal to
great things. But she is afraid to cloud his young
spirit with dark pictures, and she trusts me. Well, I
am proud of the mother's confidence, and, if I can be
worthy of it, I am sure to be led into noble work."

Robert Holt was the son of Scotch parents, and was
related to Mrs. Conant on his mother's side. He had
won high honors at Edinburgh, and had left the univer-
sity with the reputation of being a clever polemic and a
democrat. Everybody liked him, though everybody
would not have copied his ways. He was brusque and
aggressive in dispute, and toward his equals he was
exacting ; but toward his inferiors, and those who
would need his aid, he was generous to a fault : he had
the soul of a prince and the heart of a woman. He was,
moreover, a man of wealth and leisure ; he held political
opinions which were considered advanced, and he was

h ■ ii

I : ii

PROFESSOR CONANT,

too straightforward and outspoken to tolerate the diplo-
mat or the temporizer. He was earnest and sincere
before all things.

Such a character might have fallen little short of
petulance ; and he was exacting at times, but he was too
full of loving kindness to persist unduly in any course
that might wound the feelings of others. ^

He has fallen asleep as we have discussed him.

Robert Holt, idealist and disputant, au revoir.

111'"

■m

ir'

lo-
Bre

, of
too
irse

CHAPTER IV.

THE PLOT THICKENS.

A FEW afternoons later, Tom attended a reception at
Lady D.'s at Bloomington House, and found her Lady-
ship exceedingly gracious.

"Here is Col. Lyons, Mr. Conant," she said, "who
tells me that you spent Sunday at Brighton with your
good mother, who ought to be here. The Professor has
just loft me, and I have some American friends whom
you must meet. Oh ! here they are." ,

Tom greeted Dr. Elmwood and Miss Winthrop ; he
had not met the young lady since Sunday, and, as
if by common consent, they selfishly strolled away
together.

"I was afraid I should lose you," said Tom, "I
wanted to see you so much."

" Then I suppose you have something to tell me,"
was the rejoinder ; " so many Ihings may have hap-
pened since we met."

" No, I did not want to see you on business," was the
laughing response. " But I have volunteered to guard
you from the crush here. Will you permit me ? "

" If it please you," answered the young lady, seeming
I at a loss for words.

Tom observed her embarrassed manner, and said,
I" You see I may be my own master for a few momenta
[only. Lord Lester, the Governor-General of Canada, is
lere, and my father has set his heart on my paying my

PJiOFESSOJl CONANT.

humble respects to liim ; but if I have to leave you, I
hope I may bo able to find you again."

" I see Mr. Marshall, our minister, and his daughters
by the alcove yonder," observed Miss Winthrop ; " let
us join them."

Tom gave a reluctant assent, but he did not hurry
forward, and, indeed, for the moment. Miss Winthrop
did not press him to do so. Their conversation flowed
freely enough now ; but, need we relate, it interested
them more than it would have done other people.

Later in the evening, several gentlemen were con-
versing together, and among them were Lord Lester and
Mr. Marshall. The Professor, with Tom, joined them.

"Tom tells me you are coming to America," said
Lord Lester, addressing the Professor. "I shall re-
turn within the month delighted, if I may welcome you
to Canada."

" Our trip is as yet uncertain," said Dr. Conant,
" and, though we shall not exactly be the guests, we are
to be the companions of Lord Bolton, who goes to New
York. I do not think it has been arranged to include
Canada in our route, though I should like it much, if
that is possible."

" Ah, that won't do," said his Lordship ; " England
can't afford to send out her best men for journeys of ob-
servation through America, which do not even include
her own possessions. Canada has the most convenient
steamboat and railroad services, and you are alto-
gether without the excuses which did duty in former
years for neglecting us."

" Oh, it is not neglect," interposed Tom.

" We are so sure of Canadian loyalty," remarked Mr.
Holt, with a laugh.

ill

THE PLOT THICKENS.

"Yet, tliore was a pjood deal said al)ont a separation
of tho colonies a few years ago," Mr. Marshall observed,
somewhat mischievously.

" More on this side than in Canada," rejoined tlie
Professor, " but Canadian independence was boldly and
ably discussed, and found many sympathizers, even
there."

" Oh, that was before the "Washington Treaty," said
Mr. Holt, "-and while the Ahd)ama claims were pend-
ing. There was a dangerous controversy between us
and the States. At that time the peace which ruled
was not likely to be lasting. A feeling prevailed
largely in England that our North American possessions
were not worth lighting for. The Irish Fenians hovered
all along the Canadian border, and the question was
asked in Canada with some trepidation, Can the Empire
defend us ? It was added, If England wants us to go
we are ready."

"It was a very sickly feeling in Canada," said Lord
Lester.

" At least, one Governor-General commended it," re-
j marked Mr. Holt, significantly.

"But the Washington Treaty chan^jed all that in
|both countries," said the Professor. " That was a great
experiment, the resort to arbitration instead of to battle ;
to reason instead of to the blind rage of war and car-
e. If the controversies, thus happily settled, had
)een allowed to drift, they would have culminated in
rar, and the two nations might have reduced each
)ther to a third rate power."

" We had a good deal to swallow," said Lord Lester.

"There were concessions on both sides," observed

[r. Marshall

:,i-_ i i

> »' '

PROFESSOR CONAKT.

IP:

" And tlie best evidence that, on the whole, the set-
tlement was a wise one, is to be found in the concilia-
tory and satisfied mood, in which we discuss the
whole subject to-day," interjected Dr. Elmwood, with
spirit.

"All this history was made a little before your time,
Tom," said Lord Loiter, with good humor.

"I hope its good consequences may be lasting," re-
joined Tom. " The thought of going to America incites
mo to become familiar with thcjse topics."

"My dear Tom," urged Col. Lyons, "begin your
work, by taking your first lesson, wliich so few English-
men have learned, that going to Canada is a voyage to
America, as well as going to New York. Canada is a
fine country, with five millions of hardy and enterpris-
ing people, and after the States, is a land of magnificent
promise. You should act upon the hint of Lord Les-
ter, and visit it. No loyal Englishman having done so
onco will ever be disposed to throw the country oj6f."

" And let me add," said Mr. Marshall, " that whether
as a dependency of yours, or as an independent state,
my countrymen will always rejoice in her progress to-
wards wealth and power. She has a mission of freedom
to fulfill by solving in her own way, and on American soil,
the problem of British Parliamentary government."

When Tom joined the ladies, he was full of funny
conceits as to the dangers he had escaped while among j
the politicians ; but Lady D. told him he was only try-
ing his 'prentice hand, and Miss Winthrop declared he :
had been so absorbed that she had found it impossible |
to attract his attention. Tom denied, however, having!
any political ambition, and in the best of spirits he tookj
his leave.

TUE PLOT THICKENS.

3 set-
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3 tlio
., witli

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Lg," re-
incites

Q your
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bda is a
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its he took I

TVo will not weary the reader with details of the ad-
venture, which for the moment rescued from the jaws
of death a man, a woman, and a child, and thus gratitied
the kindliness of Mrs. Conant, and whetted the appetite
of Kobert Holt for good works. Mrs. Conant, on hor
return from Brighton, found these people, of whom we
have already spoken, at a private hospital, where they
were supported by the beneficence of Holt. The man

'over; the woman,

thouGjh

stricken,

was deadly ill «

was still able to < 'd in nursing him, and the child had

been removed to a, place of safety.

"The fever is malignant," the Doctor had said to
Mrs. Conant; "you must not remain here nor come
again, and the woman herself must be removed. The
man is well cared for, and the presence of neither of
you will do him good. He is quite unconscious."

The woman was inconsolable, but the Doctor's orders
were obeyed. " Oh," she said, " it is a punishment for
our sin." And she moaned like one in deep suifering.
" You angel ! " she would say to Mrs. Conant, " Why
have you sheltered a wretch like me ? " And then she
would give herself up to sobs and lamentations. " He
did it," she moaned with a convulsive shudder ; "it was
I not in my heart to wrong the child. Pauvre enfant, 1
will tell the good lady before i die." She would con-
tinue her ravings and say, " Hush, I will not speak !
Ihe will hang if I betray him. He is so sick perhaps ho

[will die, and then God have mercy ! "

Mrs. Conant went to the parlor and saw the child — a
jweet little girl of two years, who could not speak nor
;ive any sign to aid in her identification. It had
escaped the plague, it had been dressed in neat clothes,
md was beautiful. Such eyes ! though an infant's.

rill

PROFESSOR C0NAI7T.

full of sweetness and expression. The child clung to
Mrs. Conant as if it had known her.

'* The child has been wronged," said the nurse. " Do
you think she belongs to those people ?"

"Hush," said Mrs. Conant, "we must not say such
things. But she is lovely," she added, "and we will
try to protect her."

" It may be a mere superstition," said the nurse, " bui
I think the child inherits those eyes from her mother,
who must have been a beautiful woman."

" You are silly," said Mrs. Conant, musingly, and she
went back to the woman, who still talked and wandered.

" Will he die ? " she asked.

" I hope not," was the gentle response.

"Ah, I knew it," continued the woman, " our path led
to this in my dream. He was with mo, but he had
horns and a cloven foot, and he scoffed at my doubts
and scruples. He said there was no rule of right and
wrong for such as we, and that we should follow our
inclinations and desires. That fearful night ! The
heavens were overcast with blackness. The lightnings
blazed anon, and peal after peal the thunder rolled
over the mountains. We climbed the crags, and were
pricked by the thorns and terr^'^.ed by the howling of
the wild beasts. It was a dreadful dream. But we
reached the summit, and beheld the deep canon below,
livid with heat and alive with groans, and yawning to
receive us. The wages of sin is death," she continued,
after a silence. " I was taught but did not heed that.
Do I dream now? Do I rave?" sb added, fixing her
large dark eyes on Mrs. Conant, who stood, tearful, by
her side ; " my heart is heavy, but my mind is clear.
Before it may be too late I must tell you, not the story

iiii

THE PLOT THICKENS.

of my life, which must be buried in shame, but the
story of another life which mine has clouded. I did
not mean it all," she said, sobbing hysterically ; and
after a pause, " no, no, not now ! why do you press me ?
His ayes are upon me. He stands in the door. Oh !
send him away. How he frightens me ! Not now," she
repeated, "but I will tell you all to-morrow."

With a few soothing words, Mrs. Conant took her
leave, wearied and disappointed. She surmised that
the proffered confidence related to the child, and she
was not sure in what state the woman might be on the
morrow. There were things to be done, but she knew
Mr. Holt would attend to them. In the meantime,
she would see the chaplain herself and then return to
her home.

Mrs. Conant was reticent, and the Professor was too
busy to be made the confidant of her charitable labors;
but he interposed no obstacles, if he afforded her little
aid. He was, nevertheless, proud to have given her a
well-filled purse, and gratified at the fact that she went
about doing good.

That night there came a note from the chaplain to
say that the child was well, the woman delirious, and
the man past all hope.

"How unfortunate," thought Mrs. Conant, "should
tlie woman die without telling the story of the child ! I
felt sure from the first, of what I have never dared to
say, that both the man and the woman are adventurers,
and that the child has been spirited away from rospecta-
[ble parents. The woman's ravings suggest as much, and
)erhaps even other and darker crimes. Who can tell
rhence they have come ? If they die without giving a
jign, what means would be left of identification ? Oh,

82f

PROFESSOR CONANT.

what havoc vice makes with happiness ! Somewhere
in the wide world there are a frantic mother and
a broken household mourning for this little innocent ;
and, perhaps, even the wrong-doers are the greatest
sufferers, while sinking under their load of infamy and
self-reproach into a miserable grave."

f I ,!

((

laugh.

CHAPTEE V.

THE AMERICAN COUSIN DAZZLES MY LORD.

Lord Bolton had just returned after a sojourn of two
months in Paris. He had telegraphed a few friends to
meet him that night in his rooms, in Piccadilly, and
amonsc them were Tom Conant and Robert Holt. His
Lordship loved Tom's sprightly good nature and intel-
ligence, and he admired Robert's varied accomplish-
ments ; while that gentleman's advanced views, and
his readiness to maintain them, made him always an
object of interest to the eccentric nobleman. Hia
rooms were lighted by electric jets, the glare of which
was softened by the fantastic ornaments of various and
unique designs which served as lamps and decorations.
Everything bespoke luxurious comfort and refinement.
A number of gentlemen were assembled, and as Tom
entered, he found Lord Bolton in earnest conversation
1 with Holt and Fred Cuthbert.

" I was saying to his Lordship," said Fred, with a
[drawl, " that he must have wasted his time in Paris.

?o have left London, in the height of the season for
those frog-eating Frenchmen, was bad enough, but he

las learned nothing — he can'i tell us the name of the

|:eigning bcUe, or recount the latest scandal."
"Perhaps he is reticent," remarked Tom, with a

lugh. " He may prefer making his confession to the

wjidante of his choice."
2*

PROFESSOR CONANT.

"No," said Lord Bolton, with simulated irritation,
" I did not follow the traditior of my young country-
men in the French capital, and I avoided society
and dissipation. I was interested, but only as a spec-
tator."

" Well, tell us what you saw, please," said the first
speaker. " Imprimis^ no doubt, that missing link, the
American tourist, for whom there is never room enough
and the price is never high enough."

"They are a queer lot, some of those travellers,"
said Lord Bolton, "and in the invasion of Paris by
these people I have thought at times that the gay capi-
tal would altogether lose her identity."

" No doubt, some of those Americans who have just
struck * bonanzas ' are queer folk," said Robert. "They
suddenly acquire boundless wealth by some accident
— and accidents of that kind are abundant in their
country — and they have no judgment as to its use.
They are like the nouveaux riches everywhere. Sudden
wealth does not relieve vulgarity. I know a city where
a few men grew fabulously rich in a night. They were i
equal to their fortunes, to the extent of taking care of
them. They secured control of the enormous industry
by which they had prospered. They controlled thej
agencies which manufacture opinion, and they created
a speculative mania which engulfed alike the highestj
and the lowest. The whole community — the cautiousj
lawyer, the pious parson, the prudent merchant,
well as the most thrifty and the most impoverished!
sons and daughters of toil, strained their credit, dej
nied themselves necessaries, borrowed, or even beggedl
the means to buy what rose or fell at the beck of thesej
newly-made millionaires; till that community. Iron

((

THE AMERICAN COUSIN DAZZLES Ml LORD. 35

3n,

ry-

ety
pec-
first
, the
ougli

.lers,

ris ^y
r capi-

ve jTist

"They

accident

n their

its Tise.

Sudden

where

ey "vvcre '

g care oij

industry!

)lled the

ly created

highest

cautious

:chant, as

joverishei'

jredit, de;'

311 heg

oi thesel
lity, ^^^^'^

the cellar to the garret, was ruined; and these men
counted by hundreds of millions the spoils which their
neighbors had lost. Soon some of them commenced
to flaunt their vast acquisitions in the faces of the poor.
They vied with each other, at home and abroad, in
the vulgar display of money ; they bought high ojfices,
which they neglected and disgraced; they chartered
special trains; built royal palaces, and corrupted for
their purposes such influence as they could not crush
or otherwise control. Is it strange that though their
wealth was kingly their manners were boorish? If
they were vulgar, there was excuse for them. Do
we not, sometimes, see rich and educated men of our
own country playing, according to their means, the same
role ? These men are not the outcome of democratic
institutions. They are only possible among such ex-
traordinary material developments as one sees in that
wonderful country. Ah uno disce omnes^

" Put a pin there, Bob," said his Lordship ; " I have
ibeen thinking of all this, but I could not have said it.
I want to hear the rest. I must stroll among my
[guests for a little while, but I will rejoin you."

" Now that he has gone," said Fred, " you may re-
tush yourself, and, during recess, tell us quietly, who
these nabobs were. Holt? "

Tom, willing to rescue him, recited slowly,

** Once in tlie flight of ages past,
, There lived a man, and who was ho ?

Mortal 1 Howe'er thy lot be cast,
That man resembled thee."

If your muse sings of me," said Fred, " I would
k that my * lot be cast ' in the very midst of those

PROFESSOR CON ANT.

-. »„^ nrrrwos oi Americans, Holt,

frightW millions, --d '^?>^J . ^-^„^„ demooratic
^continued, "as I dont -^^^^ ^^ Unow

people at home or ''^'^°!'''' ?" ^/,^ie. I met at a
U I -ecogni^e exceptions to my r ^^^

Iriend's last night «°™^^fi^™e>!y owe a good de=a
themselves Americans, ^^t ^Un ^ J ^^^^^ ^^^^ ^^

to the education ot ^"I'f ^.^"^^* jited old Marshall and

.ot acquire at home. I always hke ^^^^^ ^^^^^

his daughters ; but then y ^^^^^ ^^ ^^^ ^ j),.

xnostly in E-^f "% J^'^l ^a his charming niece. Miss
■ Elmwood, of New ^o"^^' ^^^'l " „ ^^^ know, is a good

Vinthrop. oi Boston. ^fS, ,4\^erica, it is the
old English name, and I believe,

cognomen of a fine family .^„^,,,te,a booV, and

Tom was intently ^''f^^^ apparent abstraction.
Holt was amused to -^^ ^^^^^^^^^^ Fred went on

.. The uncle is a ^^J ^t Washington, told me
» and Lawson, of our Embassy ^^ „£ the re-

that his grandfather was GeneiaS, ^^ ^^^^
Mlion or revolution °r some b ^^^^^ I

Washington made f «^ *;;PPtree, and I had nevei
had never heard of the a^pl ^^^,^,,,, But tlie

.apposed that A">«";^^y I fannot say that she is
young lady was <=l^«'™;^/and grace and aje «e .««
Lautiful, but her ^'T^^^rj^.aiSg quite won me.
q«oi of good sense and g°"J bree gj ^^^^^^ .^ ^^ ^^

'did not ask the I-a^^'^^^^VinTgard to <W I «^A

toher wealth, and you know 11^ w\ich has so ofte.

insured against _ the we .

befallen my sex. profoundly moved,

. The American "^tion w^jl ^e J ^^^ ^^^ ^^ter

said Holt, " when this news - wire ^^^ _ ,. . ^^ ^„

" Fancy the flaring headings.

nri

THE AMERICAN COUSIN DAZZLES MY LOUD, y/

tocrat Cauglit !' ' Flirtation in High Life ! ' * Another
American Triumph ! '"

" Oh, she's not an American," said Fred. " The Win-
throps were English, and she has been educated on this
side of the water."

" Nonsense ! " growled Holt ; " how many of the
people are of English descent, with a British par-
entage as good as ours, who ^ you misrepresent and
deride because you fear that, lollowing their example,
the masses in tliis country m\bj become as powerful as
their brethren in that ? If you would give them here
the blessings they enjoy there, the masses of England,
-imitating the masses in America, would multiply vastly
the power and prestige of their country."

" I shall leave you, gentlemen," said Tom, " till his
Lordship returns. It is not fair to waste so much elo-
quence in his absence." ;

At that moment they were handed a message from
Lord Bolton, asking them to join him in the library at
ten, at which hour he would be free to receive them.

" That means business," said Cuthbert ; " you must
dilute your splendid oration for the simplest digestion
to assimilate, Bob."

" Bah !" said Tom, turning away ; " why must you say
disagreeable things? "

The guests wore dispersed in little knots about the
room. Some were discussing the latest novel, others
the latest play. A young author, who had just electri-
^fied London, was in the middle of a distinguished
[group, and Avit and repartee, if we may so distinguish,
were holding high holiday. On his right, under an
[alcove, mellow with shaded lights, stood the great mon-
irch of the English stage ; and his vis-d-vis was the

mOFESSOR CONANT.

I i

' ■"••I

>tf':.

eldest son of the legitimate drama in America. Lord
Lester and Mr. Marshall were on the right, and the
Professor and Dr. Elmwood, who had come late, were
on the left ; and the question was, how to arrest the
downfall of Shakespeare, which seemed imminent, and
restore the ballet and the sensuous stage to their proper
place after the legitimate drama. It was admitted that
much depends on the actor's conception of his work
and upon his genius in the interpretation of it.

" The world is running mad after display," the Pro-
fessor had said. " The beautiful thoughts of the olden
time are supplanted by the beautiful ankles and the
realistic scenes which the stage puts on exhibition to-
day. Once the stage roused men to great deeds by the
presentation of great thoughts. Virtue found an ally in
the drama, and a private life that fell short was only
condoned by great gifts. To-day the popular favorite
wins if she is graceful or beautiful, or, above all, if she
is known to be a professional beauty, or to have trans-
fixed a royal heart. The world must be amused, but
amusements that are not instructive have no place
among the agencies of good works."

" There is force in what you say. Professor," said the
great English actor, "but the evil is not local. My
American friend will tell you that in his country the
legitimate drama struggles and wanes, and that scenic
display is the goddess of the hour."

"The stage cannot tread the higher paths if the
people will not sustain it there," said the American.
" The tendency of all amusements is the same. The
old-fashioned ballads and their sweet airs have fallen
into neglect, though more heavenly music was never
rendered ; and now our favorites are snatches from
Patience and lolanthe."

THE AMERICAN COUSIN DAZZLES MT LORD, 39

lie

sre

,lio

iiid

per

liat

ork

Pro-
Iden
L tlie
111 to-
y tlie

s only
pvorite

if slie

trans-
sd, but
place

;aid tlie

a. My

^try tlie
,t scenic

if tlie

lericaB.

16. Tlie

re fallen

las never

les iroifl!

"All this decadence," said Lord Lester, "may be
traced to the upheavals of modern social life — to the
democratic sub-soiling which is constantly raising the
lowest stratum and imparting its clammy chill to the
surface. You can only maintain the standard of refine-
ment in communities that are not over-weighted with
the elements of degradation. You must not elevate ig-
norance too rapidly, or you drag intelligence down to its
level. You may vitiate popular taste exactly as you de-
grade popular opinion, by giving vulgarity a jurisdiction
which, in the nature of things, it cannot comprehend."

"I fear your position is more plausible than defensi-
ble," said Mr. Marshall. " I do not know how far the
stage is supported by the lower stratum. There are
multitudes who have not, as yet, been raised to the sur-
face ; and as to this question of vitiated taste, it remains
to be proved that it is not inherent in the upper classes.
"We are all living in great haste. Men are absorbed in
the bustle of affairs. They patronize the amusements
for rest and relaxation. The day's excitement has
wearied them. Tliey are in no mood to study serious
things, and they go rather where they are invited to
laugh than to think."

"Nero was a cultivated man, but Rome was profli-
gate. Complaints against the popular taste are not new
to history," said Dr. Elmwood ; " only a sound educa-
tion can really elevate it or maintain the standard when
once it is established. There is great need of reform
[and vast room for individual effort. We shall have
[gained much when we have agreed upon what we want,
jai 1 can then clear the deck for action. In the mean-
time, the stage itself might do much of the work ; it
should labor to create good taste, instead of catering to

bad one."

PROFESSOR CONANT.

A pleasant evening was far spent, and most of the
guests had departed. The old-fashioned library was
aglow with light and warmth, and Lord Bolton had
gathered a few choice spirits about him. "Wine and the
fragrant cigar were there doing duty, and Tom was
chiding Mr. Cuthbert, who had grown impulsive and
loquacious, and who felt moved to sing

" Wo won't go homo till morning.'*

11!

! I I

Holt had not forgotten his theme, and had more to
say if the hint had been given him, but his Lordship
" took the word," as the French say.

** I don't think your picture would have been over-
drawn, Holt, if I had allowed you to finish it," he said ;
" you always startle me a little with your strong words
and your radical views. You can't expect me to be a
democrat, though, thanks to you, no doubt, I can't help
loaning that way."

" No, no, let me go on," he exclaimed, as Holt seemed
about to interrupt him. " I know what it would mean
for me and my class. But it may be a fair question,
why should we be pampered? Why should the poor
delve and we idle in affluence? If it were my clear
duty, I could lay down my rank. Conscious of what is
duty, there are many of my class who would follow suit.
But would the State profit by this ? And how would ^
our degradation exalt the poor? "

" My dear Lord Bolton," ejaculated Holt, with warmth, |
" I have not proposed such a thing ! "

" Oh, you are very kind, no doubt, and would do no- 1
body harm ; but your doctrines lead up to that or theyj
mean nothing. That is a grand doctrine — the equalityi

THE AMICRWAN COUSIN DAZZLES MT LORD. 4X

of man. But hereditary distinctions must go when that
comes." He paused, and then exclaimed : *' How many-
men are my superiors but for the maintenance of these
class distinctions ? The ennobled class must think of
these things. We are not called to act now, but we
ought to form intelligent and defensible opinions. You
are young yet, Holt, and have no titles to throw away,
but how wouldst thou like to sell all that thou hast
and give to the poor ? "What a strange melange is the
French Eepublic ! How the old traditions bear against
the democratic faith. * EgalitCy but the noble confronts
the citizen at every turn. * Liberie,' yet old restrictions
are not yet removed. ^FraternitG!' — look at the vir-
ulence of the press and the deadly malico that pervades
discussions. Are they better or worse for the new
regime ? I don't know, though I am trying to study
them. Has the Revolution, that great reaction against
centuries of abuse, done its work ? In '30 and '48 and
'71 had it ended? Pardon me, gentlemen, but these
things weigh upon me, and to whom should I speak but
to my friends? In Paris, there was no devotion to
equality, in the ostentatious display of wealth among
the favored sons of the model American Republic.
They had not come over as propagandists, to teach the
world that all men were born free and equal. They
outstripped the Shah in extravagance, and their dia-
monds outsh( le the stars of the firmament in splendor.
iThey counted their wealth by millions. They must
have hoarded the gold of the people — the hard earn-
|ings of the poor — and there must be some startling
wrong that makes such exactions possible I If wealth
[is to be hoarded in a few hands, are these nouvcaux
nches better than an ancient nobility ? "

u .

ilr;'

P'f'

llli"

PROFESSOR CONANT.

"Mucli learning hatli made thee mad/' said Cuthborfc,
interrupting ; but he continued :

" Gentlemen, do I surprise you ? Did you fancy I
only thought of revels and sports ? I have been taught
the maxim, noblesse chlige, and have been thinking over
grave questions, though I have not solved them. I see
difficulties both ways."

" Holt shall help you," said Cuthbcrt.

" Yes, but not to-night," said his Lordship, gravely.
** I turn to a brighter side of my Paris picture. There
is an inner circle of American life in Paris into which I
have never penetrated. I have met delightful Americans
here, but I thought their associations had been English
A dozen of my friends married lovely American wives,
but they had for the most part been educated here. And
when I met these noisy, showy people in France I in-
stinctively avoided the wjiole race. How much I have
lost has only now been revealed to me. One night, I
met a gentleman at the American Minister's, whoso
conversation entertained and delighted me. He told
me he was in Europe for the first time ; his wife and
sister were in Paris with him, and the next day he
asked me to dine with them. I met a large party,
and was sumptuously entertained. I never enjoyed
myself more thoroughly; my host excelled; his wife
was a perfect hostess, and the sister was the finest
woman I had ever seen. The whole evening was to
me a social and intellectual treat and I have rarely
enjoyed myself more. In the course of conversation, I
acknowledged bluntly that I was glad to find myself at
an exclusively American entertainment.

" Had I never been in America ? the hostess asked
me, and had I never known Americans ?

vulgar.

tious,

aires,
can't s^
spend
waterini
Wessini

!!^

THE AMERICAN COUSIN DAZZLES MY LORD. 43

* Yes,' I answered, * I had a few American friends in
London.'

' Oh, they are really English, I suppose,' she said.

* They are generally residents with us,' I admitted.
'But you must come to America,' said both my host

and hostess.

" I admitted that it was my wish and my intention to
do so. There was a shout of welcome for me, in ad-
vance, from the whole delightful party. They promised
me no end of attention, for myself and my friends, and
they would all be at home next month to receive us.
I said I could not speak for my friends, but I would
myself try and arrange to go over soon. May I depend
upon you, Tom, to hasten the expedition? The Pro-
fessor will be responsible for us. We must have Holt
for spokesman, and Cuthbert to do the disagreeable
without which Englishmen in a foreign country would
not be recognized." «

Tom thought things might be arranged. Fred was
asleep by this time, and Robert vouchsafed no remark.

" But to return to my dinner," said Lord Bolton ;
" my hostess asked me if I had seen many Americans in
Paris." I answered, * yes, but mostly in the streets and
Boulevards.' ' They make some show and perhaps some
noise,' she said, apologetically. But a great deal that
is unfair is said of these people. They are sometimes
vulgar, but they are not unkind, and if they are ostenta-
tious, they are generous. They are not all million-
aires, but they have been blessed with thrift; they
can't stay at home in the hot cities, and it is as easy to
spend the summer in Europe as at the extravagant
watering places of their own country. They measure
blessings by what they cost, because they have not a

PROFESSOR CONANT.

^'Mi

Mil

'!;.*!

i^li

II : ":

i'lllH

\m-

better standard. They know, for example, that pictures
are evidences of refinement ; but how should they know
the difference between a mere daub and a work of
genius? Many of them have grown suddenly rich
without any refined ideas of the use of money. And
after all, they are only a fraction of the Americans who
travel. They attract attention, and you judge us all by
their ostentation. Americans generally here are polite
and cultivated people. But of course this noisy class
provokes prejudice. You have examples of the same
fortunates in England, but they don't occur in swarms
as with us. American vulgarity, indeed ! What do you
think a Shoreditch cabman would do, going to bed poor
at night and awaking the master of millions ? He would
build a castle, first — rival Buckingham Palace, or Marl-
boro' House, that he might be master of a mansion — in
the like of which, and in its humbler rooms, he had
waited for charity crusts in his boyhood. You will find
vulgar Englishmen enough here, but they are gentle-
men at home ; that's only their traditional character in
a foreign country ; but you do not find Englishmen of
the same class as our tourists with the same fortunes.

*Far from being ashamed of my countrymen, because
they are vulgar, I ain inclined to pity yours, who are
tied to poverty and have not the means to air their vul-
garity at foreign courts."

" That was an eye-opener," said Fred, who was awake
now, " and, my Lord, you recite with wonderful pre-
cision ; you were born for the stage."

" Thank you," said my Lord in good humor, " I half I
think I have surpassed myself. "Well, these excellent
people will go to America with us, and you will see if Ij
have been too cheaply charmed."

THE AMERICAN COUSIN DAZZLES MT LORD. 45

ires
now
kof
ricli

And

who
til by
polite

class

same
yarms
lo you
i poor

woulil
: Marl-

All London, for a week, had been chanting the praises
of Professor Conant's first speech in Parliament. It
had displayed great power in the House, and had struck
the popular key-note in the country. It was a masterly
arraignment of his opponents on the dangers of their
policy and the shortcomings of their latest adminis-
tration. It was what ought to have been said before,
and just what the popular ear had been longing for.
The friendly newspapers recognized its worth, though
they had not been prepared for its oratorical complete-
ness. They saw in Dr. Conant the coming man, and
it was time to see a firmer hand grasp public afi'airs,
for all interests, at home and abroad. Economy must
be rigorously enforced, and the British lion must growl,
if the British people would be respected by foreign
nations. Not that Dr. Conant had spoken in this
strain, but the leaders of opinion used hackneyed battle
cries, and rode over country with a loose reign when pop-
ular enthusiasm was to be aroused. But the adversary
was on the alert, and feared the speech had been impru-
dent and dan^rerous. Great learning, eloquence of dic-
tion, oratorical power — all these were conceded ; but na-
tions were ruled by concession and compromise, and not
by rhetoric, however polished, or logic, however exact.
But these deprecations fell upon unwilling ears. The peo-
ple still hoard the graceful periods, the pathetic appeals,
and the wise admonitions of ^he orator, and from that
moment he became their idol. He had won his spurs
in the House and the nation claimed him as a leader.

While all this was going on in the city, a very warm
and pardonable interest was felt in the Conant mansion.
Mrs. Conant had nover been too well reconciled to her
husband's enrering public life. She know that political

}'■

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ill
1'

'■■'•]

1
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PROFESSOR CONANT.

and parliamentary duties would sadly encroach on the
Professor's home-life, and Tom had thought that his
father's studious habits and quiet tastes would be sadly
broken in upon by the exactions and excitements of
active political duties. But the die was cast, the prize
was won, and doubts and regrets were forgotten. Mrs.
Conant confessed that she received congratulations
upon her husband's success with assumed indifference,
though her heart was full of interest and pride ; but
Tom was outspoken at all times, and declared without
reserve that he would rather be the son of his father
than heir to the proudest earldom in the Kingdom.

The Doctor himself was worn with the great labor of
preparation and the exhaustion of long speech, and, as
he said, was " laid up a few days for repairs." He had
gained a great success, to which, however, he always
felt himself equal; and he was thankful. If he was
destined to higher honors, he would strive to beor them
meekly and well ; but if he knew himself, his liighest
ambitions were not personal ; he would be gratified by
successful service to his country and his kind. He
had been overwhelmed by congratulations, which were
grateful to him, and by hints of higher work to which
he must shortly be called. He was ready for greater
burdens, but he knew they would detain him still more
from his favorite studies and his sweet domestic life.
The soft strains of "Home, Sweet Home," were heard
in an adjoining room, and he knev; that his wife was re-
calling the melody.

" Yes, darling," he said, and the tears filled his eyes,
" let it ever be * Home, Sweet Home ! * "What are these
huzzas and plaudits but the changing breath of an
hour ? Love and rest abide only by one's hearthstone."

CHAPTEE YI.

A VOICE mOM THE TROSSACHS.

At breakfast, one morning, Tom received a dainty

little note, addressed "Capt. Thomas Conant,

Guards, Belmont House, May Fair." And that gentle-
man read aloud the words following :

Cox's Hotel,
Jermyn St., ,

18—

My Dear Capt. Conant :

We have just returned from Scotland, where we liave been visit-
ing friends, and wliere everybody is wild about your fatlier's great
speech in the House of Commons last week. My uncle says it re-
calls the days of Burke and Slieridan, and would you mind if I tell
you that he added Webster, too ?

I road every word of it by a Trossachs' lamp light, and though I
am only a girl, and I dare say did not understand it all, I thought
it magnificent, like Macaulay. I could not sleep for hours, and I
tlid not wonder that the i ?ople were roused and electrified. I wish
I could have heard the rich tones as they fell upon the enchanted
ears of the listeners. What a God-given gift is speech! And ex-
cept that their work remains, how inferior is the painter or the
sculptor to the great masters of eloquence ! My uncle is calling out
that my letter will be too long. But you won't misunderstand me,
Capt. Conant. You will forgive my enthusiasm over the great
event which has electrified a nation, but in which I am chiefly con-
cerned with what it brings to my friends. Surely Dr. Conant is
pleased with his great triumph, and Mrs. Conant will regard hers
as the lot whicli only falls to few women — while her devoted son
will not misinterpret the interest aiid the friendship which move
[mo to write this.

PROFESSOR CONANT.

, I

ill

With kindest love to your father and mother, and regards to
yourself,

Yours sincerely,

Agnes Winthrop.

" Oil, she is a good girl," said Mrs. Conant ; " I wish
you could have seen more of Dr. Elmwood, dear ; I
think them charming people."

The Professor said he had met Dr. Elmwood several
times, and had found him a man of good breeding and
of enlightened views. " It was no surprise to me, as it
seems to have been with some of our friends, to meet an
accomplished gentleman from America, because I knew
he was as likely to be found there as in the most
polished European society. The prevalence of sudden
wealth in the large American cities, to an extent not
known in other countries, brings the rough class to
the surface, and it will require a generation to refine
them ; but there is a charming and necessarily exclusive
society in America, equal in all the essentials of good
breeding to anything you will find on this side of the
water, and it bears as large a proportion to the whole
population as does refined society here ; while you see
influences disturbi]ig the lower strata, the masses, and
setting before them the incentives to improve themselves
and elevate their children,, in a degree unknown to us."

" Miss Winthrop is a lovely girl," said Mrs. Conant.
" She is a child yet, but she has the tact of a woman
and the information and culture of mature years. This
is a noble little letter she has written, and we must
waive ceremony and call upon them this very morning."

"I am disengaged," said the Professor. Tom said
nothing, but perhaps he thought, they had forgotten j

A VOICE FROM THE TR03SACUS.

tliat the dear little note had been written to him. So
they paid a morning call at the dingy old English
Hotel, to find their friends at home, and delighted to
receive them. The Professor was the hero, and the
young lady was full of kindness and compliments.
Mrs. Conant, too, was remembered with the gentlest
and most undemonstrative flattery. And Tom, who
might have been forgotten but for little Miss "Win-
throp's ready tact, was made the happiest of the morn-
ing callers.

" I like this dingy old hotel," said Dr. Elmwood to
the Professor, looking round at the capacious and well-
furnished rooms.

" You generally find the best people here," said the
Professor. "The late proprietor was a remarkable
man and an advanced spiritualist. He used to tell
strange stories of his experiences. In his time, Wilson,
the great apostle of Spiritualism, made his home here.
It was in this room that Lord Brougham and Sir David
Brewster held their memorable investigations. It was
said that Brougham was staggered at first by what he
saw, but Sir David was consistently orthodox. I think
they both agreed at last to report in a sense adverse to
the pretensions of Wilson."

Dr. Elmwood, who was greatly interested in what he

had seen in London, called it the survival of the seven

wonders of the world. And, manifestly, he wanted to

[talk about it. To him, it was the great centre of

[thought, of boundless wealth and fabulous develop-

lent. There was want of taste, there were November

fogs and smoke ; but where else do you encounter the

traditions, the antiquities, Dick Whittington, Prince

Tal, Qiir-en Bess, Charles the First, and Cromwell ? It
8

PROFESSOR CONANT.

[Jill 'ilii

hi!

!lil

III

S':.\-\\

was with a strange emotion, he said, that an American
descendant of Englishmen trod for the first time the old
soil. In all the busy throng about him there might not
be one of his kith or kin : but, for the nonce, he had
gone back to the musty ages when his fathers occupied
where he was now a reverent stranger. He had stood
at the tomb of Napoleon in the Hotel des Invalides, in
Paris, and while a thoughtless multitude chattered
around, he was over awed in the great presence. He
heard the clangor of arms, the shouts of battle from
Austerlitz, Marengo, and Waterloo, and, as if to recall
still earlier conflicts, there seemed to fall upon his ear
the echoes of that voice, " Soldiers ! from these pyra-
mids the deeds of forty centuries look down upon you !"
So to him, in "Westminster, the dead past was animate
with the living memory of deeds. His imagination
peopled the chambers of death, and re-enacted the his-
torical activities of the past. A Londoner is open to
the misfortune of regarding all such thoughts with the
familiarity that breeds contempt ; but they are sacredly
enshrined in the heart of the American, who is capable
of reverent emotions, and who knows the history of
England and understands his own.

As Mrs. Conant rose to go, Tom proposed a drive in
the park ; but the Professor pleaded an engagement,
and finally it was arranged that, as Miss "Winthrop pre-
ferred to walk, she and Tom should stroll together. "Ij
like to be self-reliant," she said to Tom's mother.]
"Some of my English young lady friends are half-
scandalized at my original views; but I never tookj
kindly to a chaperon."

"You can't come to harm with my Tom to guard!
you," said Mrs. Conant, proudly ; and the young people!

A VOICE FROM THE TROSSACHS.

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sauntered toward an aimless destination, each conscious
only of the other's presence, and both caring only, if the
truth must be told, to be left to themselves. To that
extent, it was a natural, but not of necessity a
very serious feeling, and might have been shared by
dozens of their young friends, who only occupied a
half-interested, and half-indifferent relation to each
other.

"You received my note this morning?" she asked.
"Was it in bad taste for a little girl to feel so
much interested in a great man ? Uncle was doubt-
ful if I should write it, because he was uot sure of the
customs here. But I felt an irresistible desire to share
my joy with you all, and I said, What is the difference
between telling him what I would say if I saw him, and
writing the same thing in a note ? I hope I did not
shock you, Capt. Conant."

"You delighted us all, Miss Winthrop, with your
great kindness, and you honored me most by ad-
dressing me."

"Then let it pass for the right thing," said Miss
Winthrop ; " one does not know always where to * draw
the line ' among the customs of a strange country."

" We were pleased for my father's sake," said Tom,
" but we had as much faith in him before the great
speech, as we had afterwards. We loved him neither
more nor less ; and, as to his distinctions, he had won
honors in other fields before he entered Parliament."

" I have a great veneration for the English House of
Commons," said his fair companion, '* the first body of
gentlemen in the world. I was taught that at school in
my own country, and I hope I am not the less an
American, because I learned that the British Parlia-

Tl' ,i

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PROFESSOR CONANT.

ment affords ono of tlio broadest fields for the exercise
of a noble liumaii effort. To liavo excelled in the

ancient halls, that have echoed with the eloquence of
Pitt, and Fox, and Burke, and Sheridan, seems wonder-
ful to me, in these degenerate days, when eloquence is
so rare a gift, and popular fervor is so slow to kindle ;
but I see you laugh, and I know I am beyond my
depth ; my uncle says young girls are such talkers."

"Pray don't excuse yourself," said Tom, " for talk-
ing well. I often feel it would be a great boon to know
what to say. I should envy your gifts if I were not so
proud to see you exercise them, and only second to
graceful speech is a facile pen. Your note was charm-

nig.

" Do you remember where Falstaff says * No more o'
that Hal, an' thou lovest me ? ' " She had not intended
to make the occasion for him, but what man would not
have thought of it? And yet he was not precipitate,
but let it pass, and, looking earnestly into her face,
said : " I hope you have not written me your List note,
and I also hope that I may be permitted to v/rite you
when I cannot see you. May I ? " he asked in a low
voice ; and after a long pause, during which she re-
turned his earnest look, she answered : " Great occa-
sions may excuse some divergence, but we must observe
the rules in steady weather."

" How much I wish you could be in America when I
am there," he said ; " it would be so jolly to meet such
a friend in a strange country."

" What is your object in going ? " she asked abruptly ;
" Is it fun, or information ? Is Mr. Cuthbert a friend
of yours ? He told me he was to be one of your party.
I do not think he will lead you to deep study. Would

A VOICE FROM THE TROSSACIIS.

you lieed a real friend, who would love to serve you ?
The son of Professor Conant will have great oppor-
tunities in America. Fashion will open wide her doors,
but literature, art, science, all the rational agencies and
economies of life will gladly contribute to your store
if you find time to encourage them. You are startled
at such views from me, but I have been a little trained
in these matters. I must tell you more of my people
before you go. They all know you now, and I have a
darling brother, who will be eager to meet and welcome
you when you arrive. Boston, you will find like an
English city ; it abounds in wealth and culture, but
society is quiet there. New York is more mercurial
and versatile ; but you will see for yourself. It is
worth your while to make America a study. I know
this from my brother. He says young Englishmen go
over for * a spree,' and neglect their opportunities of
observation. Avoid that, for your own sake. I want
you, and you ought, to understand my country as well
as your own."

" You shall teach me," said Tom, " now and here."

" Are you candid ? " was her response, " or do you
trifle with me ? I have heard, though I do not believe
it, that a rational confidence is impossible between a
man and a woman. Is that true ? Are you to verify
it this morning? "

" Upon my word," said Tom, " I listen, with the
deepest interest to all you say, and I will follow your
advice, but you amaze me with the breadth of your
views, and the apparent maturity of your thought."

" Are you candid, again ? Oh, perhaps I am preco-
cious," she said, " or it may be that unusual interest has
developed unusual powers."

i £

•:i

PROFESSOR CONANT.

!! I.:;

1 1'

'Mill'

" Are you interested in me, Miss Winthrop ? " Tom
awkwardly rejoined.

"Why ask me a question which my actions have
answered ? " said the young lady, archly.

" Your interest is reciprocated, my dear Miss Win-
throp."

"Ah, now we are approaching forbidden ground,"
said the lady, as she pointed to an impassable barrier
in front of them, which they were nearing. " The
poor Heidelberg school-girl may need a chaperon after
all, unless you promise to be very good, and only say
such things as a school-girl ought to hear. I am going
back to Germany in a fev/ ^ays, and when we have to
say 'good-bye' there should be no blush, or pang,
born of imprudent confidences, or premature avowals.
Another year at school ! And in that time the world
must be a sealed book to me ! "

" But may I not hope ? " said Tom passionately.

" We will return," said Miss Winthrop, " wiser and
better for the experiences of the morning." And so, at
the door of the old hotel, they parted as they had met,
in good spirits — Tom to seek his rooms, and to be en-
grossed in his meditations, and little Miss Winthrop to
hide her emotions as she stood with pretended uncon-
cern at the door.

On her return from the hotel that morning, Mrs.
Conant found a note from Robert Holt, which agitated
and alarmed her. It related to her protegts at the hos-
pital. The man, as Mrs. Conant knew, had died some
days before of the fever. The unfortunate woman had
breathed her last the previous night. Both had re-
mained unconscious or delirious to the last. The
woman sometimes had raved about a crime and a con-

A VOICE FROM THE TROSSACnS.

fession, but all attempts to obtain information from her
had failed, and she died with her secret, such as it was,
locked in her poor, stricken heart. Holt was himself
ill, but he had provided for such service as remained
to be rendered. Tlie child was well, and would bo fur-
ther cared for. Mr. Holt begged his aunt not to
trouble herself, as there was nothing she could do.
Above all things, she must not go to the hospital, nor
visit him, as his physician entertained fears that he
might have contracted the fever there ; but to provide
against the worst, he must put his house in order, and
would make ample provision for the wants of the child.

" There is nothing to show," the letter said, " that
this child was not born of these parents. The woman
spoke French as well as English. Did they come
from France ? I believe the child is of gentle blood,
but where are her friends, and how can we find
them? The child's life will be blighted if it grows up
as the acknowledged offspring of vulgarity and vice.
Can we keep her secret? Or ought we not to advertise
her story in hope of tracing her friends ? I am irrita-
ble, and these things worry me. In a day or two, when
I am well again, you will let me call and talk to you. It
all seems to me of so much importance, that I want to
take the Professor into my confidence."

" Robert is right," mused Mrs. Conant, " my husband
must advise us. But in the meantime, the poor boy is
ill, and I must go to him. Is it safe ? I have found
myself a hundred times impervious to contagion, and I
don't believe Robert is stricken with any contagious
disease, it may be only a simple fever, or more likely
it may be a false alarm. Even if there were danger, I
must go. And yet, perhaps, that would mean danger to

PROFESSOR CONANT.

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|iiiB^''iii

our little daughter, my husband's darling and my own.
But this letter was written in the early morning. Hours
have intervened. The conditions may have changed —
he may be better or worse. I must see." In the after-
noon there came a message from Robert again. He
was better and apprehended no further trouble. He
would pay his respects on the morrow. At that mo-
ment there arose a great noise as of an earthquake from
the dining-room below. "That is a frolic, indeed,"
thought Mrs. Conant ; " that's Tom's way of entertaining
his little sister," and the child, who had escaped from
both Tom and the nurse, ran wildly to her mother for
protection.

" Oh, Tom," said his mother, " how can you tease her
so ? " The child from the shelter of its mother's arms,
regarded him with defiance, and cried out, " Do it again,
Tom."

" You see," he said, " she has not been teased against
her will, mother. She is father's child. How little she
resembles you ! It follows that she is not a beauty in
the esthetic sense ; but to me her strong, lithe little
form, with its romping grace and poetry of motion, is
superior to all conventional beauty, and then her bound-
less good nature and joyous spirits make her the jolli-
est of little girls with whom to kick up a row. Then
look at her face, the red pouting lips, made on purpose
to kiss, the honest gray eyes, with arched brows — that
nose is father's own — and the whole likeness, except
that it is a smaller type, is so exact, that I often laugh
over it."

" Oh yes, she is like her father in looks, in dispo-
sition, in everything," said Mrs. Conant ; " but, some-
times, I think her side face is like yours, and, you know,

ii!:

i:.i^!iii!

A VOICE FROM THE TROSSACnS.

they used to say you resembled me, Tom. It was a
poor compliment to you, perhaps, but do you know, I
used to be proud of it. I don't know that I wouldn't
be so to this day. She is as mischievous as you used
to be, at any rate, and in your most boisterous moods
you were more noisy than your mother, and she is like
you there again ; and I may say for you both, that when
your attention is arrested, by anything touching, or
pathetic, you are full of self-denial, and as gentle and
sympathetic as a nun. But I suppose the more aggress-
ive and masculine traits, would be a tower of strength
in more trying times, and when rougher work is to
be done. You will soon go away from me, Tom, and it
will be a great trial to part with you, though I know
it will be in the way of duty as well as of pleasure ;
but a mother's love is selfish, let the poets sing as they
may." *

" Oh, I shall not bo gone long, and I shall come back
to you laden with tales of the unknown land, — and it is
a land of mystery, of great resources, of vast possi-
bilities, and of a future that may some day outshine
the splendors of all climes and countries. I hope I
may have time, as I am sure I have the inclination,
to make myself acquainted with all I see. You, my
dear little mother, will miss me, I know, but you will
always feel sure of my love and my prayers. What a
home I leave, and what a mother ! What have I ever
done to be worthy of them ? But I have an ambition
so to labor in the days to come, that honors may be-
fall me in my country's service ; that some day it may
be fairly said of me, that I left the world not unworthy
of my family. and its fame."

Holt called the next morning, and found Mrs. Conant

I ! I

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PROFESSOR CONANT.

M\}\:

in '!■ I

'i'ii; '•!

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Ill 1. I
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with the Professor, waiting for him. He said he had
been ill the morning before, and the doctor's fears
added to his discomfort, but he had grown speedily-
better, and a good night's sleep had restored him to
his wonted good health. Ho had been worried lately
and had naturally felt the wear and tear.

""W"ell, you seem to bo all right now," said the Pro-
fessor. " After what your aunt told me, I waited for
you. Indiscriminate charity often leads to embarrass-
ment, and your poor proteges did not gain much by
your benevolence, I am sure. If they had been relieved
through the recognized channels, something might have
been got from the woman, to shed light on your pres-
ent darkness. It might have been found out that the
poor child was hers, or the story of its abduction might
have been told."

" I don't think so," said Mrs. Conant. " The vaga-
ries of the woman were the result of disease and
would have displayed themselves all the same, to
whatever influence she had been subjected. But it is
a sad story we have to tell, and there is a fearful dark-
ness nil around us."

"There is leit us only the child," said Bobert, "audi
that is so innocent and sprightly in the midst of its!
misfortunes, that it nestles strangely into my heart. Itl
would be a sad blight on its life, to grow up as thel
acknowledged offspring of these unknown outcasts,!
Secrecy is the only safeguard, and the sad story isj
known only to us three. My faith is strong in the ideal
that they abducted the child from respectable parents,!
who, probably, were expected to pay a ransom ; but 1|
have no proof. The child itself is evidence to me thati
was bcrn to better things. It has nothing in commoiij

A VOICE FROM THE TROS SACHS.

with those vagrants. But there is not a shred of evidence
to speak of better days. The woman let fall enough to
suggest that the child had been abc'^ucted, though she
fell short of any statement. She raved of a crime, she
promised a confession, and once, in her wanderings, she
declared that she had never intended to do the child
harm. She spoke of him, who had misled her, as a
monster, and she seemed to have a conscience, and,
at times, some refined feeling. But if the child has
friends, we should hear of them. The newspapers
ought to be full of the outrage ; if it has been stolen,
the crime must have occurred within a few weeks. If
this were a romance, a clever novelist would find some
family mark, locket, or needlework, or a convenient scar
to serve as a means of identification. But we are
absolutely in the dark, and the child is too young to
aid us. The woman spoke French like a native. It is
[not likely that she learned the language in London,
[ad they come from a foreign country, Belgii-m or
i'rance perhaps ? Might the abduction have occurred
fn one of the provinces, and the news not have reached
fhe metropolitan journals ? Suppose, first, that the
Barents liadbeen travelling, and that the child liad been
[eft with this woman, as nurse, and then that the man
lad seduced the woman from her duty, and the parents

lad not yet returned . Ah me ! how could they ? all

lat is absurd. They must have left friends, who would

[ave noticed the child's disappearance, and the alarm

jould have been given. I speculate upon all this night

id da3^ While the woman lived there was still hope,

^it now the darkness grows thicker, hour by hour. I

weary and disheartened, and I brood over the

pamity as if it were, as it really is, my own."

PROFESSOR CONANT.

" The misfortunes of life are distributed among mill-
ions of sufferers," said tlie Professor, " and the duty of
the charitable is to alleviate want and woe ; but wliilo \\
our benevolence is God-like, and our sympathies
heaven-born, we cannot personally take upon ourselves
the load of suffering of all these poor multitudes. That
has only been done once ; unaided human nature is not
equal to it."

" Oh, I know what you mean, and you are right,"
said Holt, "but my sympathies are exceptional, and
irresistible. I have tried to be reasonable, but I am
the helpless creature of uncontrollable impulse. Some-
times when I am alone, in the shadows of the wee sma
hours, I seem to hear a sublime voice urging me on, as i
if some great work w^ere underlying all this mystery. I
am not superstitious, and I know better, yet, in mj
calmest moments, I would not dare withdraw a hair's
breadth from the line I have laid down for myself. You
may think mo demented, but you must deal with me asl
I am, and who knows but that child, and these events,]
are in some way connected with my destiny."

"This is dreadful, Kobert," said Mrs. Conant. "YodI
suffer from a strange prostration; perhaps change o!|
scene would restore you."

"Well, no," said Holt, " I do not act an unwilliDJ
part. When once I have settled upon my course it m
be easy enough. Aunt, I must adopt that child as m,J
r"

oicn

" Nonsense," said the Professor ; " that course woulj
expose you to ridicule and possibly to scandal. But '
have talked enough about this to-day. The riddle
some day solve itself, and perhaps unexpectedlj
Meantime, you are right, the affair should be kepts

A VOICE FROM THE TROSSACHS.

quiet as possible ; and, perhaps, in a few days, we shall
find ourselves guided as to the course you should pur-
sue. So off, now, with your aunt, for a drive and recrea-
tion, and I will go to an engagement for which, I fear,
I am late."

CHAPTEE YII.

THE JOLLIEST TRIP EVER PROJECTED.

j»

After a sojourn of two or three days in London,
Lord Bolton had returned to Paris, and had spent the
week in the society of his American friends. His in-
terest in them had increased as he knew them better,

and they , how coukl they ue indifferent to . the

attentions of a man of Lord Bolton's parts and station?
He had written Tom to get his leave, and to muster
friends for an early voyage. His Lordship spoke
kindly of the Professor, and of his late distinction,
and expressed the belief that he would be speedily
called to higher duties ; but he hoped that they would
not interfere with this American trip, upon which
he had set his heart. "The Professor must go,"
he wrote; "who more than he, after this harassinf:^
session, needs change of scene and relaxation? I
know there will be strong pressure brought to detain
him by some of his friends, as well as by the agents of
party; but I leave you to plead our cause as best
you may, and I am sure not vainly. We shall have
the addition of this charming party of Americans, if we
are ready to go by the same steamer. I think I told
you who they are, but they liave been recruited by a
young couple who were in Switzerland when I was
here before. The lady is from the States, and is of
remarkable beauty and refinement ; the gentleman is of i

I •

-\m

« 777^ JOLLIEST TRIP EVER PROJECTED:* 63

Canadian birth, but of Frencli descent, and is the head
of a family of the old noblesse, of which there are still
some scions in Canada. They are people of large
wealth, I believe, and they reside in Quebec, the classic
scene of Wolfe's conquest, and the only walled town in
America. The lady wears an expression of sadness,
which, to my mind, is not complimentary to her hand-
some lord, whom, nevertheless, her large blue eyes
S( m always to follow with nervous adoration, which
she does not disguise. He met her, while he was
* sowing his wild oats,' in the capital of his fatherland.
I am told that these young French provincials of rank
and fortune are both wicked and extravagant in the
world of fashion here, and are much in request in some
circles. At all events, these people married here, only a
few years ago, and they will be our compacjnons de voyage.
Could we not catch the fine steamer Alaric, and sail on
the fifteenth proximo, from Liverpool, with our friends
for New York? You will, I am sure, forgive this
trouble, as yoa are the only friend who has leisure,
whom I could trust with a delicate mission."

" It never rains, but it pours," thought Tom ; which
wise and original observation was explained by the fact
that he had just met Dr. Elmwood in the Strand, who
had told him that Miss "Winthrop would probably go
home with him by the same steamer, on account of
recent occurrences in her family. That night Tom tele-
graphed to Lord Bolton, that Col. Lyons, Fred Cuth-
bert, and himself were ready ; but, that his father and
Robert Holt could not answer for a day or two.

" Tell them not to spoil the jolliest trip ever pro-
jected," was wired back, in reply, and Tom, weary with
his day's work, retired early. But it was not decreed

i^^ii mpii

"ill

iiiii iiiii

ill! Iil'i

PROFESSOR CONANT.

that the trip should be spoiled, or that my Lord
should be disappointed. The Professor had manap;ed
it by promising to return early, and Robert, by the
assurance of Mrs. Conant that she would look after the
baby. As to that very young lady, it had. been agreed
that for the present her secret should be kept, although
the necessity was apparent that the nurse should be
more or less trusted. Robert had confidence in her,
and kept her in his service. Cautious advertisements
addressed to " the parents of a lost child," v/ere insert-
ed in the ^rel.^h and English metropolitan journals,
and we may as well anticipate the future by avowing
that they led to no results ; nobody thought of America
as a possible field ol inquiry. Meantime, the infant
grew and prospered, and was not even interested in the
photographs which its foster-father insisted on taking
with him across the water, or conscious of the emotion
with which, on the eve of his journey, he bade her a
tender farewell.

Tom took Dr. Elmwood to the House of Commons
one night, where they heard the veteran Prime Minis-
ter summing up the work of the session. Every-
thing, but the conduct of the opposition, which he
mildly regretted, was painted couhur de rose. The ad-
ministration of the year had apparently paved the way
for the millennium to be rung in ; abroad, peace pre-
vailed, where war had threatened ; at home, except
that there was some obstruction in the House, and
some turbulence outside of it, contentment and pros-
perity prevailed. "A loyal Englishman may safely
leave the country in such hands," said the Doctor.
"The House will be dull after this. You shall first
point out to me a few of the distinguished men in

«' TEE JOLLIEST TRIP EVER PROJECTED:' 65

the fcuse, whom I have not met, and then we will re-
pair to my rooms, where we shall find friends, who will
be glad to welcome us."

" Do you see the benignant face of that old gentle-
man," said Tom, " who is speaking to my father just
now ? He is the great leader of the Peace party, and
the finest orator in England."

**0h, I know him well," said the Doctor, " his name
is a household word in America."

"Well, he has a difficult path to tread, sometimes,
and one could not subscribe to all his teaching ; but I
would rather enjoy his reputation than sit with the
peers of the realm. And that nervous young man
who sits opposite him, near the table, is Lord North, a
cousin of Bolton's. He leads a Tory faction of the
House. He has been making rather a fiery record here,
but his industry and pluck, and above all, his long and
noble lineage, will bring him to the front, when his time
comes. That tall, graceful member standing on the
right of the speaker's chair, is Mr. O'Halloran, the
leader of the Irish Home Rulers. He and his party
have been the * obstructives ' of the session, claiming that
the way to get concessions from John Bull is to bully
and annoy him. It is our national calamity, this Irish
question, and Ireland is the avenging Nemesis of Eng-
land, as you well know. But, I believe, there are few
Englishmen who would not be glad to do her justice, if
they could see their way without pulling the temple
about their heads."

"After all, I know these men by appearance and
I reputation," said the Doctor, " but I had not recognized
jthera in the distant gaslight."

" Heigho," said Tom, " I am tired and prosy. Let

PROFESSOR CONANT.

us go ; " and the two gentlemen walked rapidly in the
direction of Jermyn Street, to find Miss Winthrop
entertaining Fred Cuthbert and half a dozen young
friends. " Oh, Capt. Conant," she said, "I do hope you
are coming by the Alaric, so that we may all go home
together. Mr. Cuthbert speaks doubtfully of the time
you are likely to sail, but I think it would be wicked if
you do not come with us."

"Oh, Fred teases everybody with his uncertain
ways," said his sister, Miss Alice Cuthbert, saucily;
" and if he had been the good brother he pretends, he
might have induced Capt. Conant to persuade his mother
to accompany the Professor, and I might go under
her protection."

" At first we did not propose," said Tom,

" To burden yourself with ladies," chimed in Miss
Alice, with assumed petulance ; " but a party, now in
Paris, is likely to join us, and when I found Miss "Win-
throp would also do us that honor, I did try to per-
suade my mother to come ; but she pleaded inconven-
ience, and finally said she had absolute engagements,
which must detain her here for the next few weets.
You know she has a colony of poor people under her
charge ; she has to distribute to some, and provide for
others, and I do believe she is fast becoming one of the
hardest worked women in England."

"It is a noble work," said Dr. Elmwood.

"Yes, I would rather be a successful dispenser of I
charities ; I would rather devote my life to elevate the
poor, or to feed them — to bind up the wounds of those j
who have fallen by the way, to wipe the tears a
assuage the grief of the broken hearted, than to reignj
as Queen of England."

" TUE JOLLIEST TRIP EVER PROJECTED.'' 67

the
brop
oung
jyoa
home
» time
kedif

ertain
lucily ;
ids, lie
tnotlier
under

in Miss
now in

lss Win-
to per-

iconven-
;ement8,
"weets.
nder lier
Dvide for
ne of tlie

"Yes, Agnes! " said several young ladies in concert.
But Miss Cutlibert, nothing daunted, returned to the

charge.

" Mrs. Conant might surely bo just as good, and at
the same time enjoy recreation and pleasure. The poor
she will always have with her, but she can't always go
to America with me."

"Oh, Alice," said her brother, "you should think be-
fore you speak ; your pug would die of sea-sickness on
the voyage, and surely you could not think of leaving
it behind."

" My husband shall punish your impertinence some
day, sir," she retorted. Further discussion showed
what the company thought, and the current opinion
convinced Tom that his mother ought to go ; but he
was not able to persuade her. He did not know of her
engagements to Robert Holt's child.

li*

jenser oi
levatetlie

of those
teatii anil

to reign

i }

CHAPTER VIII.

"GOING DOWN TO THE SEA IN SHIPS.''

'";:!ii!;i:;l!l'"

• I !i l"i' ,;

Time sped, and our travellers were busy with their
adieux to friends, and with their preparations for the
voyage. Lord Bolton, whose confidence in the Captain
and his good ^--hip did not extend to what he called her
library, her lu,rder, or her cellar, had furnished choice
books, rare delicacies, and old wines ; and every one
provided necessaries which were never again seen dur-
ing the voyage. Fred gathered prescriptions, given
him by anxious friends, at the clubs and the street
corners, against that terrible ailment — mal de mer.
The Professor, overwhelmed with work, was still doubt-
ful whether ho could go or not, and when Tom took an
affectionate leave of his family, it was an open question
whether his father would or v/ould not be able to join
them at Queenstown, by a Sunday flight through Ire-
land, by rail. He dreaded to start. He half dreaded,
he told Mrs. Conant, lest some calamity should befall i
her while he was gone. But she who had committed
her darling son to the merciless deep, Mt that allj
would be safer if her husband bore him company. Be-
sides, the Professor needed rest. She would persuade]
him gently, by-and-bye, she said to Tom ; for the pres-i
sent, she did not doubt he would go. Fred tenderljj
embraced his family, and had been overwhelmed vn
mock reproaches from his sister, who still comi
plained.

lif

"OOTNG DOWN TO TUB SEA IN SHIPS."

The time of the ship's departure depends upon the
tide, and it was by a night journey to Liverpool that
our tourists reached the sea. Tliat sprightly town was
shrouded in fog, and drenched in its accustomed rains,
on the eventful morning. The hotels were thronged
with passengers, bound for the Alaric, and for other
steamers ; and the piles of baggage, from the tiny
valise to the huge " Saratoga " of fashion, that blocked
the streets, had rather the appearance of a military ex-
pedition than the peaceful outfit of quiet travellers.

The fine steamer lay, a majestic sight, in the distant
waters ; a dingy tug was the only means of approaching
her. The shop-keepers are on the alert, the hack-men
are reaping fortunes, everybody hurries, as if the first
on the tug would be the first at home. The crowds on
the little tug can find no rest or comfort, except in the
hope that they may soon be able to leave her; and,
when Tom had climbed up the side of the great steamer,
and went to the state-room that had been allotted him,
he found two or three excited people claiming it, and
the purser explaining that their own quarters were this
way or that, and they themselves declaring that the
geography of the ship was an impenetrable puzzle. It
would all be plain enough in a day or two, but one
could not master the magnificent distances at first sight.
Tom sought the deck, and was crushed by the crowd of
j jostling and excited passengers. On the one hand,
was the broad expanse of the sea around him ; on the
[other, lay the great city in the distance, with its mag-
lificent wharves and its far-stretching environs. The
fresh breeze, freighted with briny odors, fanned his
cheeks, and the fieecy clouds, far away, assumed the
fantastic shapes of antique men and women, who beck-

I: '

PROFESSOR CONANT.

oned him out to the deep waters. It was the begin-
ning of a new life. What had it in store for him?
Would the peaceful wave befriend him, or was ho to
be lashed and overwhelmed with the dangers which
had made seafaring perilous since the earliest days,
when men "went down to the sea in ships?" From
the times of Jonah and Ulysses, no skill guaranteed
immunity from the dangers of angry waters. He did
not fear ; he only pondered, as the bravest and most
experienced mariners had done in all time before.
What was his life compared with the vast waste of ages,
which could only be computed when the " sea should
give up her dead?" But he would rouse and re-
assure himself, and look after the comfort of liis
friends.

"Have you seen Mr. Holt?" he asked of his ser-
vant.

" No, sir ; but Col. Lyons is in his cabin, and Mr.
Cuthbert is beyond the wheel-house yonder."

" What are you doing there, Fred ? "

" Oh, I'm rehearsing," said the other, as he leaned
over the ship's rail ; " I dare say I shall get used to it,
and I am learning to go it alone."

" Are you sick in these still waters, and the ship not
In motion? "

"I am discounting the future," said Fred, slowly,
" after the manner of the Jews. I am practising atti-
tudes in my hour of strength, and against the day of j
need ; I am drawing on my imagination at about two
hours sight. I expect to attract attention. I shall be-
come the distinguished passenger. Don't you see tliej
advantage of my studying my pose ? "

Tom, with an ejaculation of " nonsense," turned away;|

''GOING DOWN TO THE SEA IN SHIPS."

he was in no mootl for hadinagCy and he would see if he
could bo useful to others.

" Why, Holt," he said, " you look desolate. Are you
really forlorn at leaving home? Well, I am sad my-
self ; and yet we English are notorious wanderers. Per-
haps the race is running out."

" I am not cheerful I confess," said Robert, " and yet
I don't know why, for nothing would have deterred
me from taking this voyage. It is an event in my life.
I am not going half willingly, for I seem drawn by un-
seen hands. There is some mystery for me in this
journey. You will see, perhaps, when it is solved."

" You are out of sorts, Robert," said Tom ; " the sea
air will restore you."

Lord Bolton sauntered into the saloon with Tom,
to note the long tables groaning with delf and crystal,
and to watch the ample preparations for dinner.

"Can I have a private table for ray party?" he
asked.

The steward looked puzzled,
arrangements, sir ? "

"None," said his Lordship,
seen to this."

"They do not know his rank," said Tom, aside.

"We are crowded, sir," said the steward; "your
friends will be safer to take the seats first, as they want
them."

" Oh, I'll see the captain," said Tom.

"No, stay," said my Lord ; " we will take our chances.
Things will regulate themselves in a day or two, and
we will commence the practice of equality in our own
waters."

The great ship steamed slowly out to sea, and by the

" Have you made no
"James should have

PROFESSOR CONANT.

time slie was fairly under way dinner was served at a
table whicli '^.ould accommodata three hundred, in
a ship numbering five hundred first-class passengers.
There was ill-concealeJ. irritation from the unfor-
tunates left to wait, and whose keen relish of the
savory odors did not improve their tempers; while,
as in the outer world, the well provided classes paid
little heed to the tempted and famished.

After dinner. Lord Bolton had been unremitting in
his endeavors to bring his friends together at the earli-
est moment ; and they had indulged in the cordial com-
mon places of strangers. But, in the evening, when
they were all ensconced on the broad deck, en famille,
and the waves gently washed the ship, and the pale
mooii looked wistfully i lown upon them, they forgot the
restraints of their first meeting, and their conversation
sparkled with wit, and abounded in good nature.

How often has the friendship of a life-time been
kindled at sea? Social intercourse is more unre-
strained, and there is an unconscious search for noveltv
and adventure on shipboard; each has the same re-
stricted amusements and common inte .ests, the feelings
are more easily touched, and there is less distracting
competition and -variety than are found in the great
world of society, with the lixed rules that govern it.
Some may cavil at this solution, and we do not insist
upon it; ; but theso pages will bear witness to the fact
that friendships grow rapidly at sea.

Mr. and Mrs. Koberts and Miss Eoberts, of "Wash-
ington, and M. and Madame De Luynes, of Quebec,
Lord Bolton's friends in Paris, were what he had de-
scribed them, " charming people ; " and Fred Cuthbert,
aside to Mirs "^^'inthrop, had maliciously whispered,

''GOING DOWN TO THE SEA IN SHIPS.'

that tliere would shortly be another case of a great
Lord prostrate before an American beauty.

Our travellers were spending a pleasa it evening, and
were already on the footing of friends. Fred was in
unusual spirits, and had forgotten his sea-sickness and
bis cynicism. Tom and Miss Wi: ohrop were rather
selfishly absorbed in each other ; and Eobert Holt was
full of fun and anecdotes. The latter seemed to have
forgotten the mysteries of his desfiny, toward which
he had dreamed the ship was bearing him.

M. De Luynes, Robert thought, was an excitabl'>
and impetuous talker, intolerant, but witty and clever ;
aud Robert observed that his wife was ill at ease
when he spoke, as if she feared an extravagance of
some sort, perhaps only an imprudence of expression.
De Luynes was tall, handsome and intellectual ; but his
eyes were restless, and his manner unassured. His
fine young face wore a weary look of care, beyond his
years, and might have denoted one not unfamiliar with
" revelry by night."

Madame De Luynes' great beauty was not marred by
the tinge of melancholy which had touched her face ; and
when her expression was animated by sympathy or by
thought, Robert felt that he had never seen anything
so lovely. Her sweet voice and gentle manner had at
first touched him as indescribably charming : and as the
evening wore on, he wondered, could it bo that this
rollicking husband was indifferent to such unusual fasci-
nations.

She, on her part, had not been unobservant of the
young man's interest ; and her husband had spoken
to her in terms of admiration for him. "He is a
scholar and a thirker, and I shall be deceived if you

■Ml

ill!

PROFESSOR CONANT.

do not find him a Christian gentleman," De Luynes
said ; and she had answered that his quiet dignity
inspired a feeling of restfulness and confidence, as if
he were equal to great occasions — one who might defy
dangers and rescue the unfortunate from perils.

In the midst of these conversations, the heavens
were suddenly overcast, and the wind freshened,
to be s'^c«;e<>ded by mists and fogs, as so often
happens in these weary nights along the coast of Ire-
land. The ladies, therefore, heeded the warning to
retire.

Fred Cuthbert, who had felt a little de trop, up-
braided Tom for his dulness all the evening. "Where
have you been, and what have you done for the welfare
of my fellow travellers and myself?" said Fred. "I
wish I had brought Alice, who would at least have
scolded me, and that would have been better than to
be left without attention." Looking at Lord Bolton,
he added, " Why could you not follow an illustrious ex-
ample, Tom, and give initial lessons in the only art
which is not in danger of being lost? Why, you've
been sitting alone the whole evening."

"Don't be disagreeable, Fred," said Robert, half
alarmed.

" Impertinence is not wit, Mr. Cuthbert," said Lord
Bolton, with assumed severity ; " but that I love your
father I should be tempted to throw you overboard."

"I am my father's debtor in many ways," said pred;
" but this great forbearance of my Lord I shall credit
to his own prudent kindness."

There was a laugh, and with cordial " good-nights,"
the party separated.

Half an hour later, Robert found himself discussing I

"GOING DOWN TO THE SEA IN SHIPS:

'■lies
nity
IS if
defy

bvens
3iied,
often
t Ire-
ag to

9, np-
iVliere
welfare

\. "I
t have
han to
Bolton,
Dus ex-
nly art
you've

:t, liali

(1 Lord
v(> your
)ard."
d Fred;
1 credit

Iniglits,"
scussingl

sardines on toast, among other things, with M. Maurice
De Luynes, in the saloon.

" The Canadian trip to Liverpool is lovely in sum-
mer," De Luynes said ; " you descend the river to the
Gulf, and the Straits, and you are three days in sight
of land before reaching the sea. The ships are fine,
the service reasonable, and the voyage out from our
Canadian shores is much patronized by people from
the States."

" I have heard that it is beset with dangers," said
Eohert.

" Oh, the navigation of the whole Northern Atlantic
is somewhat perilous," replied De Luynes. " In earlier
days the St. Lawrence route was not well-known, and
there were many terrible disasters ; but for years there
has been apparent safety. I would not care to return
by these boats, they are so crowded with steerage pas-
sengers. In the event of serious accident, the number
on board would greatly diminish the chances of escape.
I always go out from home and return by New York in
the Saturday boats for this reason. You have never
been in Quebec? The old city will interest one of
your taste and acquirements. It is not a commercial
city, though its harbor is magnificent, and its railway
facilities are, and will be, ample for any trade ; but we
are slow to take advantage of our opportunities, and
have been over-matched, and often outstripped by more
enterprising commercial rivals. A great man once
slandered us by saying ^hat no one had as yet been
born in Quebec wiio cou' i see beyond her walls. But
1 love the old city, though I wish that, in many
things, I had the power to reform her. She has
many historical landmarks, and is full of interesting

PROFESSOR CONANT.

reminiscences. Quebec, moreover, was the theatre upon
which those great Apostles, who sought to create
French empire on this continent, labored, and if they
failed, their successors have maintained a supremacy
under foreign rule, which if it had been foreseen a hun-
dred years ago, would have shocked her conquerors.
These influences have entrenched themselves in their
own little province, and are preparing the machinery of
a propagandism which nobody understands, and against
which nobody provides, but which will make itself felt
by-and-bye, in the controversies of the New World.
These people have not learned the lessons of liberty,
and they are dangerous to her ; but, beyond their own
small jurisdiction, their methods are not understood,
and no one is preparing to withstand their aggussions
when the time comes. It seems a small affair by the
light of the moment; but a great contest is brewing
between those who love freedom and those who have
been its traditional enemies ; and Englishmen will re-
pent in sack-cloth and ashes the hostile forces they
have been unconsciously fostering, in territories they
once wrenched from old France in America."

" You surprise me," said Robert, with deep interest.

" It is a long, sad story,' added De Luynes, slowly ;
" but if it interests you, we will talk more about it by-
and-bye."

CHAPTEE IX.

((

ALL WENT MERRY AS. A MARRIAGE BELL.

It was a beautiful Sunday morning as they neared
the lovely harbor of Queeustown, and dropped anchor
to await the arrival of the Saturday night's mails and
the passengers from London. The Professor, bright
and cheery, was the first to put foot upon the ship, and
was hilariously welcomed by the friends who had ex-
pected hira. Tom was eager for news from home.
But, beyond a private, and it seemed reassuring, word
to Eobert, the Professor had nothing to tell.

" I am afraid Tom was hoping ,you would not come,"
said Fred Cuthbert in a low tone ; " his attentions to
us all have beeL so extravagantly general that you
might not approve."

""What a tease you are, Fred," said Holt, who had
caught enough to guess at the drift ; " Is nobody to
escape you ? "

" At any rate, you are safe till we reach deep water,"
was the reply.

The Professor laughingly observed that Fred was a
better fellow than he wanted the world to believe. And
Tom advised his father to reserve his judgment till he
had experience of the young man's life on the " ocean
wave."

Miss Roberts offered to champion him at any time,
when he found himself hard pressed by his rough com-

PROFESSOR CONANT.

■'I 'ill

';!!ii

panions, and Fred declared that with such a prospect,
he should invite assaults from all the ill-conditioned
passengers.

" Oh ! the blarney stone ! " cried Miss Roberts ; " Did
you find it this morning, or have you been here be-
fore?"

" I am glad to say I never embraced it," replied Fred,
" and I am sure no Irishman whose privilege it is to
cross with us will ever kiss it again."

" What a national revulsion," said Lord Bolton.
" Pray, Fred, could you trace it to its cause? "

" I might, if my station were such that nobody would
dare resent what I say," wa", the retort.

"Oh, you are ambitious for the cap and bells,"
laughingly observed his Lordship.

" Mr. Cuthbert, come with me," said Miss Winthrop.

" Can you find me a harbor of refuge near by ? " re-
joined Fred, as he obeyed the summons and sauntered
down the deck by her side.

Col. Lyons, who was a sailor, pointed out the objects
of interest, as the Alaric steamed away through the
placid waters, and, as every one on his last look is ob-
servant, there were few talkers and the conversation
flagged.

Lord Bolton was the exception ; his accustomed
reticence in the society of ladies had given way to a
strain of loquacious mirth, which surprised his friends
and amused everybody, and he was so persistently at
Miss Boberts's side, that she seemed at first disposed to
avoid him. " But the besieged must always surrender,"
Fred was saying to Miss Winthrop, *• if he is short of
rations, and the enemy is equipped with titles and no
end of thousands a year."

**ALL WENT MERRY AS A MARRIAGE BELL." 79

" Is slie not a lovely brunette of the Southern type,
graceful as a queen and beautiful as a houri? I have
been struck by the apparent gentleness and sweetness
of hor disposition. No wonder Lord Bolton is charmed.
If he wins her, it must be through her heart. If she
is mercenary I shall despair of my sex, and never at-
tempt to read character again. If I were a man, I
should fall in love with that girl myself," said the
young lady.

" Oh, then there would be bloodshed between you
and my Lord," remarked her companion. " He was
never in love in his life, and he won't be easy to tame."

"How absurd," she rejoined. "I see nothing to
justify these jokes."

" Oh, if you don't see," said Fred, " with all your
experience, "

"Have a care !" she said, "Mr. Cynic! "

''Then, of course, I am blind!" he added, without
heeding the interruption.

"Do you like Lord Bolton?" she asked with a young
girl's directness.

" Do you think that it is impossible because I some-
times laugh at his expense ? "

" Please answer my question," she persisted.

" Miss Winthrop," he said, with a drawl; "do you
think a cockney could be sensible, or a cynic serious ?
I am going to surprise you. I do more than like Lord
Bolton, I love him. He is never the great Lord, but
always the dear friend, to me. Sometimes I mimic his
aristocratic lisp, and laugh at his eccentric idiosyn-
crasies, because it suits my humor, and this as often
before his face as behind his back. I really believe it
amuses him more than others. He is a great Lord,

itii!

I 1 'Hi

illlli;

i.iilli l!i:!li;|

'ij<(|

;!!li

PROFESSOR CONANT.

but lie is a good man. He has a clumsy manner but a
kind heart. And what to hirn are the little graces
which he mi^ht display in common with his tailor?
As he grows older, higher hereditary honors will fall to
him, and he will become a great man in England. He
will be better known for his benevolence than for his
exalted honors; ancl to enjoy his friendship will be
abundant pleasure for those who deserve it. His love
for man or woman will be a precious gift. He is ear-
nest and honest before all things ; Miss Boberts must
not trifle with him."

" I believe every word you say," said Miss Winthrop.
"I knew you were not really a cynic all the time."

Lord Bolton and Miss Eoberts approached. "TVe
came to remind you of something you had forgotten,
Fred," he said gaily.

"What? My Lord!"

" Your prescriptions ; you need not have gone to Epps
of Piccadilly, if you had known what antidotes were to
be found here."

" Your cheerful face saved me," replied Fred, with a
polite bow to Miss Roberts. "As a faithful retainer, I
must give precedence to you."

"Are you not a good sailor? " asked Miss Winthrop.

" Oh, I don't know," he answered " everybody told
me of the terrible ordeal, and everybody gave me a
remedy ; of course I imparted my secret to my friends,
and they became cognizant of my tremors when I first
came on board ; but I have not thought of them since.
His Lordship's unusual spirits remind me I can think
of something that would give him a more terrible shock
than I dreaded. It seems to me Miss Roberts is re-
served and coy. Miss Winthrop, do you think it possi-

''ALL WENT MERRY AS A 3IARRIAGE BELL." 81

ble for an American girl to be indifferent to a great
Lord wlio loves her? "

" Why, yes, I should think so of any girl who did
not reciprocate his affection. "Why do you distin-
guish American girls? Are they more wicked than
others ? "

" I am afraid I should have said, yes, a mouth ago,
as to this particular sin ; but I don't believe it now,"

said Fred. Cuthbert. " We live to learn "

They saw Robert and Mme. De Luynes promenading
the deck, and Miss Winthrop motioned Tom to join her.
"She is a charming person," remarked Miss Win-
throp.

" I did not observe her much," said Tom, " but Rob-
ert says she is most interesting and accomplished."

" Her husband is a dry stick," added Fred, shrug-
ging his shoulders.

"Not at all," Tom replied. "Robert says he is a
man of brilliant parts. At first Robert thought he had
a dissolute look, though he is handsome and distmgue,
but he says he has met no man on board ship from
whom we are likely to derive so much useful informa-
tion. He was educated in Paris, and I believe he
sowed his wild oats there. At any rate, in his young
days, he won his beautiful wife in that fashionable
city; but Robert says ho has the whole history of
America at his tongue's end and that we may expect
pleasure from intercourse with him."

"I dare say he will be my fate," said Fred, "but
Robert seems to prefer Madame."

"You don't think he expects tc marry her," rejoined
Tom, in tones of disgust.
"Not in this world " remarked Fred.

PROFESSOR CONANT.

" Well, in the next world, thoy neither marry nor are
given in marriage," said Miss Winthrop.

"So you have been reading up that subject, ray
young friend," replied the cynic. "That rule was
needed to meet the case of the seven brothers in the
old days ; but now it would be more imperative under
the jurisdiction of the divorce courts."

"As we are all unmarried," said Tom, " let us leave
these things to the benedicts ! " and he led Miss Win-
throp to a seat which his father had reserved for her.

"Do you know," said the Professor, "I feel like a
school-boy off for his holidays? No letters, no tele-
grams for ten days."

" It might bo nine," remarked Tom.

" Or eight," said Miss Winthrop ; " I believe the
Alaska has made the voyage in seven days, some odd
hours."

" It has been, and will bo greatly shortened," said
the Professor. " There is already direct railway com-
munication to Halifax, and it is proposed to traverse
Newfoundland by rail. Four to five days will be the
extent of the ocean trip before we are much older."

" I should rather go all the way by sea," said Miss
Winthrop. " It is such a trouble to change."

" Oh, yes, if you are a good sailor," interposed Dr.
Elmwood. " But if you were ill, from the moment you
took the ship till you left it, I think you would tolerate
the proposed new route. Five days instead of ten
would be a relief incalculable to a bad sailor."

Robert was busy in conversation with Madame De
Luynes. She was telling him that she was born in a
Connecticut village, had been educated in Paris, and, on
the Continent and while still a school-girl, had met her

"ALL WENT MERRY AS A MARRIAGE BELL." 83

husband in Paris and married him, and liad become a
resident of Quebec. She loved the old city. There
was a respectable English contingent there, but the
people were chiefly French, and they had been devoted
to her, as they always were to an American speaking
their language. She lovod the French people. She
was a protestant, but they made her faith no reproach
to her, as they would to a pervert from their own faith ;
and she thought the melange of French and English in
society charming. The hritsquerie of the English man-
ners was softened by the poUtesse of the French, and
gave an inimitable charm to the society of the old
capital. She hoped to welcome him there, and, that
as he had so much impressed her husband, he would
accept the hospitalities of their house when he came to
Canada.

Robert was not slow to reciprocate these kind senti-
ments, and declared that he had been charmed by her
husband's knowledge of affairs, his sound political
views, and the ready tact with which he expressed
them.

She remarked that her husband had not been a fortu-
nate politician, as he would have been in Connecticut
or in Paris ; for Lower Canada was peculiar, and no-
body came to distinction without the confidence of the
priests. " Dear old Quebec," she continued, musingly,
" I never longed to see the place so much as I do now.
I left my baby, a dear little girl of two years there.
She is well, and with a faithful old nurse in a quiet vil-
lage by the sea ; but of late I have rarely heard of her.
I have worried incessantly about this. We ought not
to have left the child ; and we are returning a month
before my husband was ready to come. He is not

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23 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580

(716) 872-4503

fr' MP..

C-P.

PROFESSOR CONANT.

III I

lilili!

alarmed, of course ; he is a man, and says I am cherish-
ing imaginary fears ; but I cannot rest until I see my
child. Are you married, Mr. Holt?" she asked ab-
ruptly.

Robert answered "No." And he thought tenderly
of the little girl he, too, had left behind. Should he see
her again ? Would she become an influence in his life,
this little waif who had drifted to him ?

" Oh, I thought if you had children," Mme. De Luynes
remarked, " you might feel an interest in my story."

Robert avowed his interest, but said nothing of the
child he was himself interested in, and they joined the
others who were basking in the warm rays of the set-
ting sun, by the door of the captain's cabin.

Capt. Graham was a short, stout man, with a ruddy
sunburnt face, and a cheery, kind expression. " Ladies,"
he said, with the rich brogue which comes only from
the north of the Tweed, "we are fortunate to have a
cloudless sky, and the sunset is peerless. You could
not match it on land. Many travellers have tried, but
always in vain, to portray the beauties of a brilliant
sunset at sea."

"But there are clouds," interposed Miss Roberts;
"and oh, how magnificent!"

"They are only the illuminated background of this
great picture," remarked De Luynes absently. " "WJiat
a wealth of golden lights and fleecy shades enlivens the
heavenly canvas ! "

" What animated coloring ! " said one. " And what
blending ! " " And what variegations ! " said the others.
And they stood there enraptured with the scene till the
sun went down, and the twilight deepened into night.

In the old days, when the passenger list was smaller,

''ALL WENT MERRY AS A MARRIAGE BELL:' 85

everybody came to know everybody else, during the
passage, and indeed, the captain, as head of the ship's
family, was accustomed to present the notables to each
other, early in the voyage. But modern passengers
herd in such numbers on the great ships, that, except
in small circles, they generally remain indifferent
strangers to their fellows ; and this isolation amid a
crowd promotes a warmer sympathy in the narrow
circle of one's friends. The resources of each are un-
consciously taxed for the general amusement. If a
fourih is wanted at whist you are ready for the sac-
rifice, though you neither love the game, nor understand
it ; and if you are asked to sing, you seat yourself at
the piano, without any of the coyness which might be
excused in a country house ashore.

There was a pretty little parlor, just off the saloon,
which Lord Bolton and his friends had already appro-
priated. There were an organ, a harp, and a guitar,
with soiled sheets of music ; a church hymnal and the
Moody and Sankey hymns, waiting to be made use of ;
and De Luynes, seating himself at the organ, called his
wife, saying, " Come, Carlotta, let us set these young
people an example." He ran his fingers along the keys
as if testing the qualities of the instrument, and then
with the self-absorbed air of an enthusiast brought
forth strains so pathetic and full of harmony that one
wondered at the skill that could summon at will such
melodies.

"It is Sunday night, Maurice," said his wife gently.
" There may be those who prefer a hymn to your weird
improvisations."

"To me, those chords were beautiful," he said. "I
expect some day to hear them with you, in heaven."

tllMI

16,.: .

PROFESSOU

CONANT.

The instrument gave out " The sweet by-and-bye,"
with exquisite variations, and the De Luynes accom-
panied the music with their fine voices through a sweet
rendering of tho words. By this time, the room and
the approaches were crowded with jjassengers, whom
the music had attracted, but De Luynes was lost to all
but the strains ho was producing. As these died away
and they commenced to sing " Nearer my God to Thee,"
the strains were taken up by the throng, and carried
along the ship till it seemed that the inspiration was
general, and as if a thousand voices were singing with
a marvellous harmony the touching and beautiful
hymn. Women wept and strong men sought to hide
their emotion.

After a little, De Luynes arose composedly and said,
" We Catholics do not practise these hymns as a religi-
ous duty ; but I love to sing them with my wife, and
sometimes in this way we entertain our neighbors."
Politely excusing themselves, M. and Mme. De Luynes
retired.

"They are charming people," said the Professor, a
remark which was warmly seconded by Dr. Elmwood.

" I knew De Luynes' father," said Col. Lyons, " when
I was in Canada some years ago. He was a clever
man, and at one time, wielded great political power, but
he was not in accord with the clergy on the question
of the tithes and some other things, and, notwithstand-
ing his lineage and his wealth, his high character and the
distinguished services he had rendered the people, his
public life was soon at an end. Maurice was then in
France pursuing his studies, but I always heard him
spoken of as a young man of great promise ; it is said
he has cultivated his father's independence and is not

''ALL WENT MERRY AS A 3IARRIAQE BELL." 87

a favorite witli the church, which means a good deal in
the way of trouble for him in Canada, if he looks to
politics as an occupation."

" How sadly one may misjudge at first," said Tom.
" We all looked askance at him, and traced his lovely
wife's melancholy to his neglect and persecution. Now
we find him a model domestic man, of rare acquire-
ments and virtues."

"We certainly did misjudge them," remarked Eobert.
" Even the wife's melancholy has found a solution which
fully exonerates the husband, and accounts in the most
positive way for her nervous and anxious manner."

" Let us give up reading character and take to read-
ing books," said Fred.

" You may do both things profitably, by devoting to
each a little care," interpolated the Professor ; " half
the misunderstandings of life are precipitated by jump-
ing to conclusions."

" It is a rule of polite society to avoid hurting the
feelings of others," said Col. Lyons, " and it would be
as good a rule, perhaps, to avoid speaking against
them."

" Yes," said Dr. Elmwood, " or you might copy the
newspapers f^nd only speak ill of your neighbors, when
the public interest demands it." > .

" That would bo a pressimj alternative," said Fred ;
" the sea is rough," he added, looking out, " and the
ship is lurching. Let us woo tired nature's sweet
restorer "

-:j»J^

CHAPTER X.

COMING INTO THE TRACK OF A STORM.

The orthodox occupation of a passenger at sea is
killing time. At first this is easy, for everything is
new and fresh at the outset ; but there is no " infinite
variety " at one's service. He treads the same measure
day after day, and by-and-bye the time " hangs heavy
on his hands." He begins to count the days, and anon,
the hours. He has seen the whale and the porpoise,
and perhaps, the iceberg. He has watched the ship
speed in her spiritless race, from day to day, against
her own time. The Captain on the bridge and the
sailors in the rigging cease to amuse him. All this,
unless he can enjoy good books, or that better resource
at sea, good company.

Our own travellers were among the fortunate few.
They were good sailors, good talkers, and good listen-
ers ; and they were, moreover, interested in each other.
Their first day had been a delightful experience to
each, and even at this early hour if a requisition had
been circulated to prolong the voyage, they would all
(if we except Madame De Luynes and Dr. Elmwood),
have signed it.

All were early astir on that bright Monday morning ;
they had been refreshed and were happy ; and their
greetings were as cheeky and affectionate as if they

" COMING INTO THE TRACK OF A STORM.'' 89

had known each other for years. The decks and saloons
were less crowded than they were yesterday, for many
had yielded to the discomforts of the sea. And the
jolly Captain, who knew the misfortune had its limits,
was willing to have his joke about it.

" Your sympathy with sea-sickness does you credit,
ladies," he said, " but sea-sickness is not always an un-
mixed evil. I was sailing from New York once in Octo-
ber with a long passenger list ; room was a sacred trust
everywhere. Two rather distinguished New York ladies,
not acquainted with each other, had been placed in my
charge for the voyage. Their husbands had been de-
tained at the last moment, but were to follow them next
month. Neither of the ladies knew me. They had
each two children, and they all had seats at my left, or
rather, they should have had ; but, as it turned out, the
steward had only reserved two seats instead of four.
As we steamed out of the harbor late in the afternoon,
I was engaged, and asked a friend to take my place at
the dinner-table. He was a good lawyer, but he didn't
know the difference between a jib-boom and a rudder.
The day was beautiful, and nobody who enjoyed it
could have thought there was anything but liappiness
in store. The ladies came to the table without the
children, and each claimed the two seatsn. They spoke
with the frigid politeness of people who did not intend
to yield an inch. 'These seats belong to my little
girl and boy,' said Number One. ' You are mistaken,
madame, they were reserved for my two children,' said
Number Two. ' The captain shall decide between us,'
they both said, appealing to my friend. He was, how-
ever, 'wise in his generation,' and, without nautical
skill, nettled a delicate nautical matter.

TfW

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PROFESSOLl CONANT.

. i

III

" * Ladies/ be said, * Rome was not built in a day ; it
is a rule of this service to take twenty-four hours for
consideration, when embarrassing questions are sub-
mitted. It has happened that in this way such ques-
tions settled themselves.' Each, confident of victory,
was satisfied. Would you believe it, those ladies were
not at the table again till we sighted land, ten days
afterwards. So you see, le mal de mer is not an un-
mixed evil."

"You are cruel, captain," said the ladies.

"I am practical, ladies," he replied, with a loud
laugh, which bespoke the measure of his good humor.

"Do you like to answer questions, captain?" said
Miss Roberts.

"Yes, when I know how," he rejoined.

" I have heard that some captains regard curiosity
with ill-favor."

" Well, yes, and no," he said. " It depends upon the
man and the circumstances. But if wo are crusty we
sometimes get the worst of it. The commodore of our
line, in the midst of a storm, was asked by a lady some
simple question. 'Do you take me for the steward,
Madame ? ' he said gruffly. ' I mistook you for a gen-
tleman, sir,' was the quiet reply."

The day was beautiful but uneventful to the ordinary
passenger, and, unheeded by our friends, some of whom
discussed books, finance, and politics, according to their
tastes; others were engaged in gentler and perhaps
more engrossing studies. ^

Mr. and Mrs. Roberts sought to shield their young
charge from the too pronounced attentions of Lord
Bolton, who seemed to have forgotten the rest of the
party, and could not understand why he should be

COMING INTO THE TRACK OF A STORM:' 91

shunned. He had even complained to Mr. Eoberts,
and protested his sincerity ; but that gentleman had
only met him with mysterious and conventional as-
surances. Finally, he told him frankly, that his sister
had a high sense of the honor he intended her, but that
he would explain later a reason why she could only re-
ceive him on the footing of a friend, and that there
must be no thought of any more serious relations.

His Lordship had accepted the situation, and the
young lady was once more cheerful and reassured.

Tom and Miss Winthrop were still engaged in a
sort of old-fashioned flirtation, which did not threaten
to bo serious, and seemed to include Fred Cuthbert
in their confidence. The De Luynes and Robert were
inseparable, and the lively and sparkling conversa-
tion of these interesting and accomplished people was
a treat to the Professor and to Dr. Elmwood. The
captain, as an old friend of Col. Lyons, rather mon-
opolized that gentleman, and so all were delightfully
occupied, and the time sped and they did not heed
it till another day had been reeled off their voyage.

That night there was heavy weather, and a rougher
sea, and an old sailor said they were coming into the
track of a storm.

The next morning at breakfast the tables were
ornamented with the traditional "racks." The passen-
gers were thinly represented in the saloon, and these
seemed serious and apprehensive ; but, though the
wind was growing fresher, and the sea boiled with agita-
tion, tlie sky was clear and the sun was bright. There
were but few ladies visible, and these threaded their
unaccustomed way with difficulty in the ship's uncer-
tain motion. The dishes rattled, the Alario, groaned,

PliOFESSOR CONANT.

and now and then as the vessel plunged, some luck-
less promenader was caught, and hurled against chairs
and tables to the opposite corner. At last, the general
gloom was lifted and a hearty laugh ran " along the
line " while the victims looked silly and crestfallen.

Our travellers were on deck, clinging to the ropes
and rails, with supreme indifference to their sufferings.
Poor Madame De Luynes had not reported, though
Maurice said she was not ill, but only a little dis-
quieted. The other ladies were with difficulty dissuaded
from going at once in search of her, but her hus-
band thought she would be better if left to such re-
pose as, in the circumstances, was possible. He prom-
ised to bring her to them as good as new, in an hour or
two.

The Captain had just left the bridge and was making
cautiously for his cabin, and the young ladies began to
ply him with jokes and questions. He was polite, hut
stern and reserved, another man altogether than him
they had left the night before, full of fun and anecdote.
He was responsible for a large property, and a thousand
lives, and the sea was giving signs that troubled him.
From stem to stern the ship was playing pitch and toss
in the liveliest manner, and the great waves were pound-
ing her sides like battering-rams, now and then drench-
ing her decks with spray. The Captain half listened
as if he were expecting something, and dreaded it. Our
observers watched his anxious face and were silent.
Then, as the ship plunged her nose under the waters,
there was a slight scraping sound like the friction of
timbers, and momently she halted and trembled;
women screamed and men held their breath.

" Port your helm ! " shouted an unknown voice. The

"COMING INTO THE TRACK OF A STORM." 93

man at the wheel obeyed, and the ship rocked and
groaned under the awkward pressure

" Steady your wheel ! " roared the Captain, rushing
forward. The scraping was repeated tenfold, and there
was a terrible bump ! bump ! bump ! I as if they were
rushing at full speed over boulders, and the ship leaped
above the waters as if she were being hurled out of the sea.
Men and women were thrown indiscriminately athwart
the vessel, which seemed to hang hesitatingly between
the air and ocean, and writhed and quivered as if in
bodily pain. The ship righted herself quickly, and
stood still during two awful minutes of suspei "* before
the engine resumed work.

" Look yonder I " shouted the first officer, pointing
to her wake behind the stern. The wpter was black
with the debris, which consisted of spars and timbers
that were leaping from the depths to the surface.

" Is the danger past, Captain ? " inquired a passen-
ger, who had recovered himself, and was eager for an
explanation, for which he would have to wait.
"That was a queer snag," remarked the Captain.
"We ran into a wreck, sir," said the first officer.
" Its rebound was tremendous against the bottom of
the Alaric" observed the Captain. " It is a mercy we
are not disabled."
" We must examine her first," was the reply.
The Captain explained to Lord Bolton what had
happened, and asked him to reassure his friends. Then
he proceeded to find out to what extent the ship had
suffered ; meantime, the usual word was passed along
among those of the crew and servants who were likely to
encounter inquisitive passengers, to respond to all ques-
tions with the answer, " all is right." The noble ship,

PROFESSOR CONANT.

nevertheless, continued to speed on her usual course,
across the rough waters, and quiet and confidence were
slowly restored.

" I always feel that I have taken my life in my hands
when I go to sea," said Madame De Luynes.

" Oh, I think that in a computation of chances it
would be found the accidents are not in greater pro-
portion at sea than by other means of travel," her hus-
band replied. " But the imagination has much to do
with our impressions. Look at the fatalities by rail ;
and yet, we are so accustomed to that mode of travel,
that a journey does not terrify us. Wo take steamer
voyages so seldom that we do not get used to them, as
in the other case. And yet, now-a-days, with first-clast,
ships there are fewer casualties."

"Do you not think wo have just escaped a great
calamity ? " inquired Miss Winthrop.

" Oh, a miss is as good as a mile," Fred Cuthbert
answered.

" How very original," said Tom. " Why don't you
give us something familiar ? "

"Because familiarity breeds contempt," rejoined
Fred.

" All this is too serious to make fun of," mildly sug-
gested Robert Holt. " How fearful are the perils of
the deep ! It is not that shipwreck means death, or
that one is afraid to die. But we are surrounded by
such majesty of power, that our own puny helplessness
is made plainer to us. Wliere does nature marshal
more awful strength and grandeur than surround us
here ? And yet there is a relief to our humiliation in
the thought that if the hand of man cannot control, we
may utilize and enjoy them. What changeful scenes I

*' COMING INTO TUK TRACK OF A STORM." 95

The qiiiot sea is a symbol of tranquillity, but who doos
not tremble, as he commits himself to the awful forces
of the storm ? "

"They say drowning is a peaceful death," remarked
Miss Koberts ; " but they must be speaking of tJie calm
waters, and the heavenly view which one beholds,
yielding his life in the watery depths, from which ho
may gaze upward to the broad heavens radiant in the
bright sunshine."

" From battle and murder, and from sudden death,
good Lord, deliver us," said Mrs. Roberts.

"Amen," said Lord Bolton, solemnly.

" What we need is constant preparation for death,"
interposed Dr. Elmwood.

" And these startling adventures are intended to pre-
pare us," said the Professor. " Let us all thank God
for his mercies," and there was an acquiescence of silent
meditation and prayer, which lasted several minutes.
Throughout the steamer the merciful deliverance had
disposed many hearts to thankfulness ; and for the mo-
ment, at least, it had awakened many to a sense of the
uucertainty of human life.

Prayer is not always a sign of piety. A reverent
man, from a sense of duty, may offer up petitions
which are -formal and without fervor ; while the man
without any sense of duty may pray earnestly for help,
when he feels that he has need and is dependent. \ye
put aside the theory that the skeptic has no care, nor
wish for Divine aid ; not doubting that he unconsciously
leans on a higher power, and that in severe stress of ^
weather he would be one of the first to cry out, " God
be merciful ; " and so, we doubt not, great perils dispose
the human heart, good or bad, to hope in God, and to

.■ -■t i 'y-i i "f;-«T--i > irr-f i n-rmn»w i

PROFESSOR CONANT.

turn to him. The feeling is not the less real because it
is fitful and undisciplined. That was a sudden con-
version of the thief on the cross ; yet, had he lived
he might I a,ve back-slidden. No doubt, a great and
common terror rouses the emotions of men, and rever-
ence may be religious and is often emotional. The
passengers of the Alaric were no exception ; they felt
that they had an almost miraculous escape, and they
thanked God for it. It may be, they would soon for-
get, but such gratitude inspired them to prayer, and
brought them nearer Divine things. They had asked
Dr. Elm wood to conduct a religious service in the eve-
ning, and almost to a man and a woman the passengers
assembled to join with him. There were appropriate
devotions and a short address, followed by a ger^erous
collection for that noble charity, the " Seamen's Fund."
The Professor had been surprised at the large amount
collected ; and the Captain said to him, with grateful
tears, that " the Americans are always liberal givers."

CHAPTER XI.

DE LUYNES DISCUSSES BURNING QUESTIONS.

The night was dark, the sea was rough, and after
such a day the ladies wisely retired early. The smok-
ing-room was almost deserted when De Luynes and
Robert took possession of it ; but other friends dropped
in, and general conversation was in progress. Robert
reminded Maurice that he had promised another chap-
ter of his observations, begun a few nights before.
Col Lyons knew how to interest him, and asked if he
had taken part in the politics of his country.

"Not a distinguished part," he replied, "and yet I
am not an indifferent observer. Like my father, I
have the misfortune to quarrel with a powerful in-
fluence among us on some questions, and that shuts the
door of public life against me. I have been in Parliament
twice, but only sat a few months and was beaten, osten-
sibly because my people were told that I was a Free-
mason which was false ; though they did not know
what it meant. The real reason, however, was that an
unseen influence, which controlled them, was hostile to
me. In my youth, the clergy ot my district offered me
their support in an election then pending for my
county, but by my father's advice I refused it, because
it would involve a bondage to which no man of spirit
could submit. I bore my father's name ; I had followed
his advice against theirs, and they never forgave

PROFESSOR CONANT.

me. I am a Catholic, and I want to be a true son of
the Church ; but to me there is a difference between
the spiritual and the temporal. I accept her teachings
as to matters of faith and morals, but as to the fran-
chise, the taxation, the public administration of affairs,
I cannot allow her to dictate my course. Other young
men have held the same views, and have suffered the
same disabilities. In England and France you see
gentlemen of wealth preferred to positions of great
political distinction on both sides. If you do not obey
these men, there is an iron heel always waiting to crush
you. Kind gentlemen in religious and private life, they
are intolerant above all things in that which relates to
political freedom of speech or action. Their influence
is enormou^ some of my friends have often said' to me :
'Why not go with the tide? Why slam the door of
preferment forever in your face? Your name, your
rank, the loyalty of your people, would maintain you
in influence and honor, if you would conciliate this
hostile power.' It, however, is not always absolutely
dominant ; thanks to influences beyond its control, its
party has been sometimes beaten, though it has formed
such strange alliances that its influence seems as great
among its traditional enemies as among its own people.
When the Liberals are in power, it happens, of course,
that independent French Canadians who do not follow
it are appointed to office. But this happens only when
they cannot help it. When their own party rules, they
are absolute masters of Lower Canada ; and as to
patronage and toleration, they rule with a rod of iron."
" I suppose," said the Professor^ " it is a revival of
the old controversies we have known so well in
England."

DE LUTNE8 DISCUSSES BURNING QUESTIONS, 99

" That is not altogether true of modern controversy,"
rejoined Maurice. "With you, the Catholics, if they
were British subjects, fought for emancipation; that
cause was plausible and just. But these men fight for
power, for the education of the young, for the control
of the franchise, and of the avenues which lead to the
preferment of their own people. There was once a
great controversy between the Galileans and the Ultra-
montanes in France. You know its history, and how
the former kept faith with the nation; substitute
Canada for France, and we could work with the Galilean
Churchmen. But these men would practically set tllO^
Church over the State, giving to the latter only the 1
power to register tho decrees of the former ; if you
chide them for this, you will be denounced from a I
hundred pulpits. The more intelligent revolt against
these extreme views. Did I say revolt ? But I spoke
of their intelligence ; they do not want to ' kick against
the pricks,' and so they drift along with the current,
and reap the easy rewards of complaisance. An
Englishman thrown casually into our society would
see little and hear less of these troubles. He would
meet men of letters and men of the world at the
head of these influences, and they would charm him
with their manners. The mailed hand is shown when
there is resistance to be crushed among their own
people. Thirty years ago my father and a dozen young
men of culture, formed an association, founded a news-
paper, and published a political programme. Their
platform embraced nearly all the measures of reform
which have been enacted since that time ; but the pro-
jectors were denounced and vilified by men who, ever
since, have maintained their hostility, but have taken

<*:: ' ill

I ;,i

100

PROFESSOR CONANT.

■■%■

i%%

Jj-»

■:|

lii

'fl^^^^l

credit for the work. But why do I speak of these
things to comparative strangers ? It is because you
are Englishmen of rank, statesmen, soldiers, and men
of affairs ; you are studying the forces which in coming
years are to guide opinion in the wide British Empire.
Tou have a dependency across this water, weak it may
be in numbers, but in territory, and in possibilities,
large like the United States, and larger than Europe
with her family of nations. It is a self-governing
country, and you do not wish to interfere with it.
But you should study the forces which at least cod'toI
one-fourth of its population, forces which hold the
balance of power and control it. You will find the bulk

\ of your own race there careless and lukewarm, singing to

I the air that Nero must have played, Apres moi le Deluge.
, i- Do I appeal to strangers against my race ? God forbid !

'. I love my countrymen. They belong to liberty and I
would sa V e them. I tell their sad tale to strong men
who have loved and upheld freedom, not that you
could coerce or restrain them ; but while you might
do something to open their eyes, you would render a

I service to your own race, as well as mine, in dispelling
clouds that to-day may seem to you no bigger than
a man's hand, but which are fraught with storm and
peril."

He ceased, his fine face aglow with the excitement of
his earnest pleadings ; all were in sympathy with his
burning words, and no one seemed willing to break the
silence.

After De Luynes retired there was another pause,
whicli was finally broken by Col. Lyons, who observed,
" He is a superior but disappointed man. He has med-
itated upon his vrrongs till they have colored his life."

DE LUYNES DISCUSSES BURNING QUESTIONS. IQl

" His is a blighted career, I fear," said Dr. Elmwoocl
" But ho seems to have been a philosopher, and to have
acted as well as he speaks."

"It might have been better taste not to pronounce n
that harangue in mixed company," observed a stranger,
who had been listening. " It is calculated to wound
some, and to produce a false impression upon others." /'

" Were the clergy to stand idly by, and permit a lot
of hair-brained youths to paralyze the Church nd
sever British connection ? These Liberals are irreligious
and disloyal." The speaker was a middle-aged man of
easy speech and dignified bearing.

liobert had noticed the interest with which the lat-
ter had followed De Luynes ; and his slightly foreign
accent suggested that perhaps he was a countryman of
De Luynes, and probably a political opponent.

"Oh, these are charges easy to make," he said.

" I have not studied their teachings, but I suspect
they are not new ; no doubt, under altered conditions,
the same controversies are current in Europe as w ell as
in Canada. But what have these Liberals done?"
" Nothing," said the stranger, " but disturb and agitate
the people."

"They have held office," persisted Robert. "Did
they undermine society ? or legislate against the inter-
ests of the Church ? or the Crown ? " .

"They never administered long, because their policy
was distrusted by our people."

" I should like to hear this discussion," said the Pro-
fessor, "but I propose we adjourn it. Our time is
far spent, and the night is stormy."

A wave broke over the deck, which crushed the door
of the room like a piece of brittle glass, and washed its

jsi

102

PROFESSOR CONANT.

.^l.

way among the unfortunate occupants, who were de-
luged for a moment and thrown hither and thither with
the advancing and receding element. A deck steward
had fractured a rib against one of the arms of the long
seat, and our friends had been shaken and drenched ;
but they speedily gathered themselves up and made for
their berths, thankful for another almost miraculous
escape. In the morning the storm had abated, the
weather was bright, and the waters more tranquil. The
deck was alive with passengers, who seemed to have
forgotten the discomforts of yesterday, and completely
to have regained their spirits. The spar-deck was
lined with chairs which the ladies, covered with wraps,
chiefly occupied ; and, ere long, the amusements and
hilarities were resumed.

" Sail, ho ! " cried the lookout from forward.

"Where away? " said the officer of the deck.

" Dead ahead, sir."

" Give me the long glass, Quartermaster," shouted
the officer.

" Aye, aye, sir," he responded.

The officer took the glass and made an observa-
tion. " Eeport to the Captain a steamer ahead. Quar-
termaster."

" Tell the officer to hoist an ensign, and set our
numbers, and when he makes out the ship, report to
me," said the Captain, turning again to the passengers
with whom he had been conversing.

By this time the passengers were on the alert ; trifles
create i*n excitement at sea. The vessel proved to he
the homeward-bound steamer of the same line. It was
a beautiful sight as the ships passed each other, dip-
ping their flags and saluting. Everybody felt as ii

DE LUTNES DISCUSSES BURNINO QUESTIONS. 103

they had been calling at a station in mid-ocean and
meeting friends who formed a link with home. Our
friends were not the only distinguished people on
board, and there had already been pleasant recognitions
and presentations. The Governor of Connecticut,
with his family, was returning after a three months' ab-
sence ; so were a distinguished Senator from Michigan
and the Attorney-General of the United States. Not-
withstanding the untowardness so far of the voyage,
the two parties had mingled and grown intimate. There
were also half a dozen young English travellers going
out to "do " America, whom Lord Bolton had welcomed
and presented to his friends. One of them had just
heen saying to Miss Roberts, " If the winds had been
propitious our journey would have been awfully jolly."

" Oh, there is plenty of time for fine weather," was
her reply. " Do you remain long in America? "

** Only the few weeks of my vacation," he answered.
" All the fellows will return then. To see the States has
now become the rage, and we have just snatched a
chance open to us."

The Professor was answering questions of the Ameri-
can statesman regarding Civil Service Eeform in Eng-
land. Fred Cuthbert was amusing the American ladies
with his drolleries, and De Luynes was explaining to
the young men the mysteries of such Canadian winter
sports as flourish in the deep snow with a low ther-
mometer. Tom and Miss Winthrop had ensconced
themselves in a cosy corner ; and the others were all
taking good care of themselves.

"Oh, you may laugh," said Miss Winthrop • ''but I
think enthusiasm about Boston is a very common and
very venial sin among Bostonians. But I shall leave you

Mm !

104

PROFESSOR CONANT.

to study the place for yourself and form your own con-
clusions. My own egotism will be satisfied by talking
a little about myself. JVij poor mother's younger
brother is Dr. Elmwood. My father's only brother
is Horace Winthro}), of Boston. He is a lawyer at
home, and a United States Senator at "Washington ; his
time is divided between the two cities. My brother
George and myself are his adopted children ; and," she
added, her eyes filling with tears, "we are orphans.
To you, who have always felt the strength of a father's
arm, and the warmth and tenderness of a mother's love,
I cannot explain the loneliness, the isolation, which that
means. George was graduated at Harvard. He has
always lived with my uncle in Boston, and is a lawyer.
I have been much with Dr. Elmwood, but both uncles
have been our tender and generous protectors. I
know of no love stronger than I bear them both ; but I
dream of a deeper, tenderer feeling I might have cher-
ished toward her I could have called my mother."

" I can understand it all, Miss "Winthrop," said Tom,
with emotion. " Experience is not the only teacher."

** My experience has been confined to the want of a
mother's love, which I have never known," she said.
" It is harder for a girl than for a boy to bear. It is
the elixir of her life, transfused through her whole be-
ing. With that love she is exalted, beatified ; her place
is little lower than the angels ; without it the most
cherished delights are cold, and the first place in her
heart is vacant. But why speak of what I have lost,
since my life is so full of compensations ? You must
know my brother, and then you will understand what
I enjoy in his affection."

*' He is no doubt a good brother," said Tom, " but

DE LUYNES DISCUSSES BURNING QUESTIONS. 105

no one should claim credit for loving you. I have
striven in vain myself to avoid that." 'Noticing that
she was disturbed, he added, "I will remember my
promise, but why bind me to it? "

** I will tell you by-and-bye," rejoined Miss "Winthrop,
" but at present I am to speak of myself. I was sent
to Germany with an aunt, whom you did not see,
though she was with us in London. This was my last
year, but we had spent the vacation in the British
Isles, and the time was approaching for my return to
school, when my uncle announced that I must go homo
■with him, on the plea that family matters required it,
though he declined, for the present, to explain. He
merel} assured me that everyone was well, but said
further confidence would be unwise till we reached
home. You can fancy my disquietude and apprehen-
Here is a secret which I cannot fathom. It was

sion.

of sufficient importance to call me home. George does
not know it, for I have weekly letters from him ; it is
a mystery. Is it a romance ? Both my uncles are un-
married ; Dr. Elmwood buried his wife years ago, and
my uncle Horace is a bachelor. Do you think me only
curious when I feel myself a prey to these anxieties ?
But why seek to explain the impenetrable ? I long to
see my brother, and other dear friends await me. I
have a score or so of relations in the country round
about. They may lack the fashionable refinements,
but they lo\e me, and they are very dear to me."

"Of course they love you," said Tom. "I must
speak! Why do you smother my words, when jo\\
know my heart ? "

" I must insist upon your promise, my dear friend,"
she said firmly. " You know nothing of me, and little

300

rROFESSOR CONANT.

of my family, or of my position in life. You ought not
to bo compromised : Is there no middle course for a
man and a woman between indifference and infatuation?
Be just to yourself and do not embarrass me. I am
only a school-girl, though I may seem older than my
years. I give you my friendship, and am grateful for
your preference. Let us stop here and leave the rest
to time."

"I am silenced but not convinced," said Tom, "but I
will not press you. Miss Winthrop, there are voices
in life, which, if one heed not, become silent — sucli a
voice in your inmost heart, I still hope is pleading for
me."

Miss Winthrop's emotion was apparent, but she
stifled it.

" Let me join my uncle," she said.

" I only ask for a hope. Miss Roberts," said Lord Bol-
ton ; " for permission to renew, at another time, the suit
whi i you deny me now ; perhaps I have been too
vehement, but 'forgive me, for my heart has inspired
every word I have uttered."

" What you ask is impossible," replied Miss Roberts.
"Your attentions honor me, and I cannot say what
might happen, were I in a position to receive them, but
there is an impassable gulf between us."

" Can you not tell me this mystery ? Am I unworthy
of your confidence ?" he interrupted. " It is dreadful
that you should have a secret locked against me in your
heart."

" My secret 1 '^longs to another. If it were mine to
tell, it should be yours ; and in that case you would not
esteem me less, but you would pity me more."

Tom and Miss Winthrop caught only these words as

DE LUYNES DISCUSSES BURNING QUESTIONS. 107

they strolled along, and the voices died away in the dis-
tance. " How he loves her," said Miss Winthrop, look-
ing with tearful eyes into Tom's face. " She hac re-
fused him. Does she love him ?"

" Yes," said Miss Winthrop, after a pause.

" What can bo her secret ? " asked Tom. " She spoke
of a gulf that separates them ; I wonder if she would
really cross it, if her own inclinations were alone con-
sulted."

"I think so," replied Miss Winthrop ; " and yet she
did not plead for delay."

" Would there have been hope in that ? " Tom asked.
"What a strange coincidence ! " she continued, but her
uncle was waiting for her, and Tom politely took his
leave. He found De Luynes, with other gentlemen, in
earnest conversation. He was in no mood to be inter-
ested, but he could not refuse to hear. .

"I have always believed," said Mr. Burrows, the
Attorney-General, " that the destiny of your country is
annexation to mine."

" She would thus become part of a glorious Bepub-
lic," observed De Luynes, " and it may be that such a
change is in store for us. Might not the interests of
the Continent be better served if Canada grew to be a
great and friendly neighbor? No doubt annexation
would solve great commercial and political questions.
Canada is growing too rapidly to remain forever as she
is. In local matters she is only a nominal dependency,
enjoying, practically, control of her own affairs. But
the day will come, though perhaps not soon, when she
will outgrow this tutelage which sits lightly on her
now. Then why should she turn to you ? Her chil-
dren are the offspring of the two foremost nations of the

i*«r

108

PROFESSOR CONANT.

ill'

world ; they both know how to govern. Canadians have
had experience in tlie metliods of constitutional reform ;
as to her local jurisdiction Canada is a free country;
she is working out the problem of Britisli Parliament-
ary government. There are, indeed, enemies within
her borders, but, if the people are wise, they will over-
come them. She has verge and scope enough to satisfy
the wildest hopes of an ambitious people. AVhy not
encourage her to set up for herself, that there may be
wrought out on this Continent two systems of constitu-
tional liberty, so much akin as to create friendship
among both peoples, and divergent enough to form a
contrast and enable us to compare the two systems ?"

" But why maintain the two systems ? " interposed
Mr. Burrows, " with the expense and annoyance of two
long lines of custom-houses, and the general adminis-
tration of two governments ? Why not let us welcome
you to our markets, and to the protection and the 7)res-
tige of our power? These are :iot myths; they have
been founded in blood and treasure. I honor your at-
tachment to the Old Country that has gicrved you so
well, but which would not hold you a moment after it
was manifestly your interest to go. We, too, are your
kinsmen, and United North America would be to us all
a guarantee of prosperity and peace."

" Oh, why do you covet more ? " said Do Luynes,
" with your boundless territories and your varieties of
climate, soil and production ? If we were safely in-
trenched against foreign foes, might there not grow up
greater dangers in the way of domestic discord ? This
question will be settled by the generation v/hich has
to solve it, and possibly by lights that are obscure to us
now ; but, do you not think greed of territory grows

like
ioHg
of tJ
after

DE LUYNES DISCUSSES BURNINO QUESTIONS. 109

like love of accumulation ? If you had Canada, how
ionj? would Mexico remain out in the cold ? and which
of the mongrel Spanish-American States could resist,
after that, your powerful fascination ? All this might
increase commerce, but where would remain that sheet-
anclu^r of freedom, intelligent popular opinion? If my
thought suggests danger, the peril would threaten us

all."

" I had never regarded it in that light," said Mr.
Burrows, " and yours is a plausible view."

"I admire your great republic," De Luynes re-
marked, " and have been rebuked among my own people
for my out-spoken opinions. There is a class with
us who regard friendship for the * States ' as incom-
patible with loyalty to the Empire. But if I could
return here in a hundred years, I should like to find in
North America two great countries which had been true
to their traditions, and had promoted the enjoyment of
liberty under those two systems among hundreds of
millions of prosperous freemen. To have achieved such
results would have required wisdom and forbearance,
for there are evils now, which, if not suppressed, will
insure the destruction of both countries. I have
ahvays advocated an extended franchise, but it is a
source of danger where the people are mercenary, or
where they do not understand their rights. The dema-
gogue is a perpetual menace to free governments. The
mere politician looks only to the moment. What we need
are statesmen of honor and worth, to lead the people to
look beyond for ulterior results. Despotism, with all
its hatefulness, moves in a narrow circle, and, controlling
fow influences, may be comparatively pure. The worst
forms of corruption are found where a corrupt people

MB1

110

PROFESSOR CONANT.

govern. And you have but one safeguard — a healthy
public opinion. Wo must treat as an enemy of tho
state the man who would debauch it. Thus protected,
our free peoples, separate or united, will have before
them a glorious future."

"These are noble sentiments," said the Professor,
" the stateman's work would be easy where such princi-
ples prevailed."

" Utopia ! " exclaimed our stranger of the night
before.

" We cannot always realize in practice our theories
of excellence," remarked the Professor. " But we can
sot before as a high standard and strive to reach it, and
our efforts will improve if they do not perfect us."

The conversation was continued, but Tom was too
preoccupied to listen further.

■MP<a"<nas

7 J.

„vi

CHAPTER XII.

AVE SANCTISSIMA.

"We left Dr. Elmwood and Miss Wintlirop together.
"My darling, you seem agitated," said the Doctor, ad-
dressing her tenderly. " Are you troubled ? "

"You shall judge when you know all, my dear uncle,"
and she told him the story of her relations with Tom.

" Bless me," said the uncle, " I might have suspected
this, but you both !3eemed so old-fashioned that I
tliouglit you the most prudent of friends."

Then there was a long silence, broken at intervals by
the girl's stifled sobs. At length he took her hand of-
fectionately : " Poor child," he said, " are you really dis-
tressed? " She did not answer, and he continued, "You
have done right ; you are both too young, and you have
acted nobly ; and the poor young man — was he greatly
disappointed by your refusal ? "

" Oh, uncle," she sobbed, " I only meant to say that I
asked him to wait."

*' Cheer up, little one," said the Doctor, " I will tell
you a secret. You always like to think of others, and
now it will do you good. I only kept the news from
you to please George, who wanted to tell you himself.
You are going home at his request, and he is shortly
to be married."

The youi.g lady clutched his arm nervously. "To
whom ? Tell me all," she said with a changed and im-

III

■ill

liiiii m

! !l

112

PROFESSOR GONANT.

" George has wronged me ! What

perious manner,
does it mean?"

" Compose yourself, my dear," said her uncle, "George
has intended no wrong. He was undergoing a new expe-
rience, and his course has been eccentric toward us all.
He besought me to help him in his own way, and how
could I refuse the boy ? He formed a sudden attach-
ment for a young lady in Washington last winter. They
were in every way worthy of each other, and she re-
turned his love, but persisted in postponing the engage-
ment. George and her friends remonstrated, but she
was going abroad in the spring and desired to be free
till her return. Finally, she yielded, but only to the
extent that their plighted troth should not be an-
nounced till the autumn."

" Who is she ? " interrupted the young lady passion-
ately. " Has she been in Europe this summer ? "

" Yes, but you did not see her," said he. " George
must have pressed her with letters, for she has con-
sented to return and marry him. By his invitation
we are going home to the wedding."

" The naughty boy ! I ought to refuse my consent,
but how can I while the bride is a stranger. I know
George would make a wise choice. But this terrible
mystery ! "

" It was foolish," said the Doctor ; " but it will soon
be solved, and I shall have betrayed my trust."

" George will forgive you," she whispered. " Tell
me all."

" By a strange coincidence," he continued, " the young
lady is on board this ship."

" Here, uncle ! " she cried excitedly, " lead me to my
sister."

wmmm

AVE SANCTISSIMA.

113

" Hush, child," urged the Doctor ; " you will need all
your prudence and composure. From what I have seen
liere, there may be trouble in store for poor George.
The young lady is Miss Eoberts !"

" Then I will answer for her with my life, uncle,"
she added.

"How can you tell that George may not find a
dangerous rival in Lord Bolton? " asked the uncle.

" Never ! " she said with emphasis ; " I know it." And
she told him of tlie conversation to which she had in-
voluntarily been a listener.

But it did not altogether reassure either of them.
Miss Boberts was true, but was her heart engaged in
her refusal of Lord Bolton's suit ?

" She is a noble girl," observed the Doctor, " and she
has resisted a great temptation."

" Not if she loves George," said his companion.

"All the same," he continued, "I wish this contretemps
could have been avoided."

" I wish I might tell Capt. Conant this strange story,
said Miss Winthrop musingly.

" I see no objection, but it should be in confidence,
remarked the uncle. " I will send him to you."

" No, hring him to me, please ; we will consult him
together."

" He must be a dull scholar if he does not understand
what it means that she needs to confide in him," mused
the Doctor, and, almost momently, he returned with
Tom on his arm. ^.

" I sent for you, Capt. Conant," she began with a con-
strained manner, "to tell you a family secret and a
strange story."

" I shall be proud of your confidence. Miss Winthop,"

»»

\wM

i ill

'm^Bl

■ .! ;)

. IIHI

^'rl'i

■n

li
111

114

PROFESSOR GONANT.

he replied with polite reserve, " and if in any way I
can serve you "

" Wait a little," remarked Miss Winthrop, " till you
liave heard my story." And she related the particulars
as her uncle had told them.

" That is a strange story," said Tom ; " has it distressed
you very much. Miss "Winthrop ? "

" Oh, I have not thought of myself," she replied. " Do
you think I ought to be troubled? My uncle and
I wanted the opinion of a third person and we could
only trust our secret to you."

" The position is delicate," observed the Doctor, " and
suggests thoughts which one dares not express. Havo
the conditions changed since Miss Roberts accepted
my nephew? "

"I think not," Tom replied, "except that I don't
believe she is indifferent to Bolton's attentions. Ho is
madly in love v/ith her, at any rate. Many a girl would
be fascinated by his wealth and station."

" In our country, George's position is as good as his,"
said Miss Winthrop curtly. " Oh, I am speaking from
an English point of view, some girls regard titles as an
unusual distinction," Tom rejoined.

"And they are universally so regarded," remarked
Dr. Elmwood.

"But she has refused Lord Bolton, though we havo
no ripjht to know it," said Tom.

" Was it because she loved George, or that she is in
honor bound to him ? " inquired his sister. " Some-
thing makes me feel that it was an unwilling refusal
George shall know this."

"But she will tell him herself, if it is true," said
Tom. "For I believe she is a noble woman." "At

AVF SANCTISSniA.

116

any rate, it is a matter they must settle themselves, and
an affair about which no one should speak to either of
them till they have had the opportunity."

" It is strange," said the young lady, musingly, " but
I have felt that Miss Koberts avoids me. Can it be
that they know who I am ? They must have known I
was in Europe, ai.'d, probably, that I was returning for
the wedding."

"One would think," said Tom, "that finding Miss
Winthrop of Boston here would suggest your brother.'*

" One thing seems clear," remarked Dr. Elmwood,
" we must avoid embarrassing recognitions."

"If I knew she loved George still, I would throw
myself upon her neck ; but how awkward, if she should
really be struggling to smother another passion," said
George's sister.

"Yes, you ought to preserve an incognito toward
her. Things have gone so far that it is your wiser
course," remarked Tom. " It is a pity you came out
in the same steamer ; but she must know that Bolton's
attentions have been remarked, and it would be embar-
rassing to discuss them with the sister of lier^^rt7ice."

"And they ought to have been embarrassing in the
presence of that sister," observed Miss Winthrop.

" True," said Tom, " but I don't believe she knows
yon after all ; your name is not uncommon. It may
have suggested nothing to her."

It was agreed that Miss Winthrop should be reticent,
and for the rest of the voyage maintain the status quo.
The conversation was interrupted by the announcement
of dinner.

In the evening, our friends again assembled in the
small parlor off the saloon. The social atmosphere

111

iiiliii

IIG

PROFESSOR CONANT.

iillliii

I'll'.lj!;

was dull and enervating ; for the buoyancy of spirit was
lacking wliich had distinguished their former reunions.
Miss TVinthrop in one corner and Miss Roberts in
another, each with book in hand, and in no mood for
reading, appeared taciturn and melancholy. Lord Bol-
ton looked like one in the depths of despair. It was
easy for Tom to follow suit. Fred Cuthbert said he
was gloomy, because it was the fashion, and one might
as well be out of the world as out of the fashion, you
know.

" Our friends are out of sorts," said Kobert to Do
Luynes. " You must pour sweet music into their
souls."

" Carlotta," he whispered to his wife, "are you,
too, under the spell that prevails here?" He ran his
fingers over the keys, and, striking a few chords, they
sang together that touching invocation :

Ave Sanctissiraa
We lift our souls to thee,

Ora pro nobis,
'Tis nightfall on the sea.

Watch us while shadows lie.
Far o'er the water spread.
Hear the heart's lonely sigh,
Thine too hath bled.

Thou that hast looked on death,
Aid us when death is near;
Whisper of heaven to faith,
Sweet Mother, hear I

Ora pro nobis,
The wave must rock our sleep,

Ora, Mater, Ora,
Star of the deep.

"J
fore.

As,

einer*

She
the dc

"ArJ
the reji

"Wei

AVE SANCTISSIMA.

117

" Something sparkling," said his wife, leaning over
De Luynes' shoulder. And the instrument ga^ ^ forth
one of Strauss' inspiriting airs. The mercurial audi-
ence was once more all smiles. Such charms hath
mus.'c tc sadden or delight the heart.

" Where is Miss Roberts," inquired Fred Cuthbcrt
of Lord Bolton. " She sings divinely."

" She would have need to do so to follow the music
we have heard," replied his Lordship.

"There is a magnetism about the De Luynes that
strangely affects me. Husband and wife are alike
fascinating," said Robert Holt.

" And they are so accomplished," Fred added.

"Nobody will sing to-night after what has gone be-
fore," remarked Lord Bolton. " It is stifling here ; I
must seek the fresh air."

As he ascended the stairs. Lord Bolton met a lady
emerging from the companion-way. " Will you join me
in a promenade. Miss Roberts? " he asked.

She assented, and they walked slowly up and down
the deck, in the moonlight.

" ' Ave Sanctissima,' the heavenly hymn," said Lord
Bolton.

"And with what sweetness they rendered it," was
the rejoinder ; " it touched me as so appropriate at sea.'*

" I could hardly master my emotion," observed his
Lordship. " Its pathos vibrated into the recesses of my
soul. I wanted to thank them, but I shrank from trust-
ing myself with words."

"Were you indeed so overpowered?" inquired his
companion. " I thought I alone had been weak."

" Oh, emotion is not weakness," Lord Bolton replied.
"It springs from the noblest hearts," and the most

11'. , . iit'All!

Il!ii!;

118

PROFESSOR CONANT.

generous impulse. If I dared I would say a word
more."

"Go on," was the reply.

" Miss Roberts," he continued, " you and I have been
prepared for such emotions by our interview, which was
the most important event of my life, and I know you
were not indifferent. Am I unkind to speak to you
again? You would forgive me if you could realize
how my hopes have centered in you. You are the
light of my life. "With you I could welcome death
and defy misfortune; without you who shall be my
deliverer ? "

" God," she answered ; " we must trust in Him."

" Oh ! if we could trust in each other, too.

' Yes — loving is a painful thrill,
And not to love more painful still;
But surely 'tis the worst of pain
. To love and not be loved again.' "

"Lord Bolton," she said, "Why wring my heart?
It pains me if you suffer, bat you do not suffer alone.
More than this I ought not, must not, tell you ; you
must spare me and forget me. My troth is plighted to
another. It was his secret, and your persistent suit
wrung it from me."

" This is a cruel fate," said Lord Bolton, like one
stunned. " You are my first love, and I shall never
forget you, but I will speak no more of it."

" Great trials are not everlasting," she answered ;
" they mellow into tender memories as time passes.
Let us find my sister."

Meantime, the others had quietly taken their leave,
and De Luynes and Robert found themselves alone.

woiilcl

"Itl

liUyne
confidj

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Qian wal

AVE SANCTISSIMA.

119

Kobert invited liis companion to a quiet smoke in his
room, where they could talk without molestation.

" I always give myself this little recreation, here, be-
fore retiring," he said, " and it delights mo to have you
share it."

" Thanks, very much," said De Luynes, as he absently
examined some books on a shelf against the walk
" May I look at these pictures, Holt ? " he asked, as he
picked up some photographs that were lying there.
" Good heavens ! this is the likeness of my child ; my
little Ethel ! where did you get this ? "

" Nonsense," said Holt, " I left that child the other
day in my own house in London."

" The likeness is unmistakable," persisted De Luynes ;
" of course it is impossible. Let me show it to my
wife ;" and he started to go.

"Stay," said Holt, "you must not take it."

" Is there a mystery ? " inquired the other.

" I can tell you nothing," was the reply ; " but it
would be unwise to excite your wife."

"It seems more serious than I thought," said De
Luynes. " Is there a secret involved that you cannot
confide to me ? "

" Compose yourself," said Holt. " Give me time to
think," and after a moment's pause, he added, " I will
tell you all I know."

"It cannot be," mused Maurice; "the child looks
younger."

" A few weeks ago," said Holt, " I found at a police
station in London a man and a woman with this child.
They had been picked up destitute in the street. The
man was silent and morose, but the woman was comely
and had an air of patient resignation that attracted me.

iil.!':

120

PROFESSOR CONANT.

U '1

IWil

They had been without food for two days, the woman
said, except what she had begged for the child. They
had seen better days but were reduced by misfortune.
The child was pale and wan, but her beautiful eyes
seemed to appeal to me. An irresistible impulse bade
me shield her. The man and woman seemed ill, and
not knowing what else to do, I sent them to a private
hospital and provided a favorite nurse for the little girl."

*' Those eyes are Ethel's," interrupted De Luynes,
absently regarding the picture. ** Describe the child."

" No, let me go on in my own way."

"Pardon me, but I am so impatient," added De
Luynes.

" My aunt, who devotes her life to charity, visited
these people often afterward, and ministered to the
comfort of the child. It was shortly removed because
the man and woman were stricken with what seemed a
deadly illness. In a few days they both died of a
malignant fever. The man was unconscious to the
last ; the woman raved of some great crime, and her
desire to confess it. She continued delirious, however.
Once only she alluded to the child, which she averred
she had not intended to wrong. It is my aunt's belief
that the poor little thing had been abducted from
respectable parents ; but we had no proof. We adver-
tised but without result in the London and Paris
journals for ' the parents of a lost child.* Nothing was
left us but to provide for it. I placed it, with its nurse,
in my own house and under the direct supervision of
my aunt. It was obvious that, if the child lived, what
we knew of its origin ought to be kept secret. I must
depend upon your discretion. You are the second per-
son only to whom the story has been told."

■^

AVE SANCTISSIMA.

121

"It is Ethel ! " said De Luynes, fts if dreaming ; and
rousing himself, he added, " describe the nurse to me."

Robert endeavored to do so.

" It seems like Nora, the dear old nurse, whom we
have so trusted," said De Luynes ; " but who was the
man r

" He may have been the father of the child," Holt
replied ; " but we believe and hope not."

"My God!" ejaculated Maurice, "it is all plain to
me now. What if he persuaded the weak woman to
dope with him; she loved the child and would not
have abandoned it. Moreover, he may have had hope
of a ransom. It might have all happened ; my poor
old mother is an invalid at home. The child was not
expected back for the season. There is more than ono
way they might have managed to deceive her. Holy
Virgin! Was Carlotta's disquietude a miraculous
warning ! Oh ! no, I am raving. Yet, for the moment,
it all seemed so real." Then, looking at the likeness
again, he pursued, " It is the child ; if I could return to

England by an inward bound vessel ^but Carlotta

would know all and it would madden her."

"If the child is yours, she is safe," said Robert,
soothingly. "So Madame De Luynes' ignorance is
bhss, and the child does not suffer. A few days, more
or less, will solve the mystery ; after all, your Ethel is
probably safe at home."

" Poor Nora !" murmured Maurice. v

"Compose yourself," pleaded Holt.

" Is it such a tale as would inspire me with com-
posure? My home robbed, my child lost, the treach-
ery of r>y servants Heavens ! and you would have

me tranquil over it ? "
6

IHI^^^H

! i

122

PROFESSOR CONANT.

" My poor friend I " said Robert, " your child is safe
at the worst, either in your homo or in mine. There
would be room for frenzy if she were lost to you alto-
gether. As a strong man it is your duty to be com-
posed. There must be no outward sign of agitation ;
remember your wife, and save her from the terrible
ordeal."

•* You are right, Holt," said Maurice, giving him his
hand. " I must seek the fresh air and solitude. Let
me keep the picture. Au rcvoir." And he was gone.

" Poor fellow ! " said Robert, " I honor his emotions,
but he was made for a romantic life. Madame De
Luynes need never know that the child was lost till it
has again been found." The next morning Robert told
the Professor of his interview with Maurice the night
before, but that gentleman saw nothing remarkable in
what he had to relate, and did not sympathize with
Robert's impressions that the parents of the lost child
had been found. " A romance of this sort must be re-
served for the novels," he said; "such coincidences
rarely happen in real life. The child is as likely to
have been abducted in London as in Canada, and if
you admit this, your fabric falls to the ground."

Tom enjoyed a tetc-d-tetc with Madame De Luynes,
and Fred Cuthbert was indefatigable in his attention
to Miss Winthrop. Neither Lord Bolton nor Miss
Roberts was yet visible; Maurice was absent and
pre-occupied, and parried the attempts of his Ameri-
can friends to draw him into further conversation.
Mr. and Mrs. Roberts and Dr. Elmwood were watching
the sports of the passengers ; and thus the day passed
from one thing to another without excitement or ad-
venture.

AVE SANCTISSIMA.

123

There was an attempt to renew the previous evening's
entertainment, but the De Luynes did not sing, and the
music languished for want of inspiration. Thus it hap-
pens at sea that our feelings are alternately depressed
and excited, and the jokes which arouRo hilarity to-day
will to-morrow fall upon listless and unwilling ears.
With "^" friends the rule had no exception ; and if
there ^ s cause for want of spirits, it was apparent
only to .iiose who knew it.

The next da>, and the next, except that the weather
was beautiful and that the Alaric was making good
speed, witnessed nothing of great interest. But on the
following morning a ship was sighted which signalled a
desire to communicate. The ship " hove to," and the
stranger lowered a boat with a single passenger, which
quickly made for the Alaric, There was great excite-
ment on board at this unusual proceeding, and, as tho
boat neared the ship, De Luynes, recognizing some one,
motioned to his wife and shouted, " Gustave ! " To
climb up tho side of the vessel was the work of a
moment.

The greeting between Maurice and his friend was
most cordial.

"Gustave, my cousin, you bring bad news," said
Madame De Luynes.

"No, no," he answered, embracing her tenderly. "I
have but a moment, let me speak to Maurice alone."

"Is Ethel alive ? Only tell me that," she persisted.

" Oh ! Carlotta, she was quite well when last I saw
her. I wanted to save you, but my bad news is that
Madame De Luynes is dead."

Carlotta dropped passively into her chair, and Mau-
rice stepped aside with his cousin.

■ sun
III

124

PROFESSOR CONANT.

'i i:

" My poor friend, prepare yourself for worse news ;
I knew you were coming on the Alaric. Your little
Ethel is lost. Nora cannot be found and the country is
being searched for them."

"I know^'t," said Maurice, motioning to Holt to join
them. " Give me my child's address in London."

Holt wrote it with a puzzled air ; Maurice continued,
" Gustave, Nora ran away with the child, and died the
other day in London ; this good friend rescued my dar-
ling, and she is now safe in his house. Carlotta knows
nothing, but she has been wild with imaginary fears ;
she has had a supernatural prescience that something
■was wrong, though she knew not what. Look at that
likeness ! " handing him the portrait.

" Great heaven ! that is Ethel," said Gustave.

" It is the likeness of the child my friend rescued,"
continued Maurice. " You are bound for Paris, but go
at once to London, identify the child and cable me."

Holt, who had divined his motive in calling him, had
scribbled a hasty note which he handed to Gustave.
" Present this," he said, " and if you recognize the baby
your course will be easv."

"Good-bye," cried orustave. "I must go. Salute
Carlotta for me. It was this shock that killed your
poor mother. Trust me." And bowing to the Captain
he re-entered the beat and returned to the ship in wait-
ing.

" I should have gone wit!" him," said Maurice to Holt,
"if I could have left my wife. Oh God! my poor
mother."

The De Luynes retired, and the lively curiosity of the
inquiring passengers was not gratified.

" This has been an unusual incident," rema,rked the

AVE SANCTISSIMA.

125

Captain, as he watched Gustave going off; ''the De
Luynes must be people of some influence."

In the evening, the Professor and Dr. Elmwood sat
alone in a quiet corner of the saloon discussing a toddy
before retiring. Eight or wrong, this was a custom they
both enjoyed and never abused. They did not approach
excess; perhaps, as they lingered over the generous
glass, where others would have become hilarious, they
might have been convivial, reaching just a faint tinge
of exaggeration, just a little mellowing of their confi-
dences in and to each other; but never transcending
the orthodox limits. They had been speaking of vari-
ous subjects, of theories of navigation, of the economies
of tlie ship, of its log, its record as to speed, and the
manner in which adverse winds had delayed her, the
events of the past day, of the way in which Gustave had
boarded her, which they thought extraordinary, De
Luynes being a mystery to them both. They thought
liim clever, versatile, and possessed of remarkable qual-
ities. The Professor felt that he might safely confide
in his friend, and he told him all we know of poor De
Luynes' distractions, including an account of the inter-
view with Robert and the revelations of Gustavo.

The Doctor was profoundly impressed ; he was,
moreover, proud of the confidence, and of the fact that
be was in some measure in a position to return it. Ho
told the Professor what he knew of the story of Tom
and his niece. " ''

The Professor thanked him, but he already knew it.
His boy, he said tenderly, had no secrets from him.
The young people he hoped would come to understand
each otii3r, but he thought the best way to deal with
such matters was to leave them to themselves.

■nil

itm

iiii'

:i i ^iii

l!li!lll

KM 111
11

m
w

126

PROFESSOR CONANT.

With increasing confidence, Dr. Elmwood then re-
lated the story of Miss Boberts and Lord Bolton.
There again Tom had forestalled him, but this only left
them in a better position to discuss the subject, which
seemed full of interest to both. The voyage was not
uneventful, tliey both said, and they agreed that it was
better to look on than to interfere ; but they expressed
their opinions freely, as if nobody could ever know
what each had said to the other. So, calmly, do men
of middle-ago look down upon the tumults that agitate
the young. They have had their trials and overcome
them ; they know that life is full of sorrow, and that
time is the great healer ; they have learned, also, that
one door of enjoyment opens as another closes. They
do not expect to enjoy happiness unalloyed, and they
know that every cloud has a silver lining. After a
while, both retired, sympathetic, but confident that all
would come right in the end.

CHAPTEE XIII.

"WHO COULD FORESEE PERILS?"

The night was beautiful ; and there was only a gen-
tle motion of the waters, and

'Every wave with dimpled face,

That leaped up in the air,
Had caught a star iu its embrace,
And held it trembling there.'

There was silence in the haunts of the passengers,
and the great ship moved majestically all the long night
over the quiet sea. Who could fcresee perils or dream
that her strength would fail?

Towards morning the fog-horn, that terror of passen-
gers, began to send forth unearthly sounds. These
were warnings to approaching vessels of danger ahead,
and they also warned the experienced passenger that
a thick fog was prevailing. The sharp eye of the
" look-out " could scarcely penetrate the mist, and the
chances of collision with vessels in the track were immi-
nant. No position is more calculated to arouse the
anxiety of travellers at sea.

"The Alaric is a fine ship," said De Luynes, "and
well manned ; as things go, she is considered to be
finely equipped, but she is on a fast lino and there is
the danger. No human eye could descry a ship in this

128

PROFESSOR CONANT.

m '■\'

thick mist, making towards her in time to arrest an in-
evitable crash ; and yet she will rush on at full speed
in order to make time, when she ought to go slowly and
cautiously. In case of accident, what provision have
we for saving life ? The boats, if they could be safely
lowered, would not ticcommodate two hundred passen-
gers, and, including cabin and steerage, we have on
board well nigh a thousand souls. The life-preservers
would be useless to most of us, because we have not
been taught how to wear them, and, awkwardly ad-
justed, they would create more danger than they would
avoid. All is delightful in smooth sailing, but who
shall say that disasters may not occur which would put
human life in unnecessary jeopardy ? "

" Let us count the boats," said the Professor ; they
did so and found there were but ten ; each could carry
safely but twenty people. " This is fearful," he added ;
"what can we do? "

' . " Oh, we must take our chances, accidents are the
exception ; the ships generally make prosperous voy-
ages, and so these defects are not exposed. They are
neither noticed nor remedied."

"I hope the fog will lift soon," said Eobert Holt.
"This darkness is becoming intolerable."

But all day long it enveloped them, and the dreadful
whistle continued to herald the fact. The passengers
became gloomy and apprehensive as the night closed
in, and there seemed on every countenance a common
dread of danger. The decks and the saloons were early
deserted ; the anxieties of some were forgotten in sleep,
but most people wooed it in vain.

There was a timid rap at Dr. Elmwood's door. " May
I come in, dear uncle ? I am distracted with this tern-

"WHO COULD FORESEE PERILS!"

129

, m-

)eed

and

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ifely

isen-

e on

rvers

not
J ad-
yould
, wlio
Id put

; tliey

1 carry
idded ;

ire tlie
IS ^oy-
ley ai6

Holt.

Lreadful
jsengers
It closed
common
Ire early
In sleep,

"May
lis terri-

ble whistle and with these gloomy surroundings. May
I sit with you?"

"Sit down, child," he responded; "we are mak-
ing splendid time, and I see no cause for alarm ; yet
life is uncertain and apprehensions are natural. We
must look above for strength.

" What a field of thought is open to one who watches
at midnight in such a sea, feeling that the next
moment may precipitate a crash which might engulf
every one in the deep waters. How the far-off past re-
turns to one '.vith forgotten scenes which are now made
familiar again ; one's boyhood, one's school days, the
companions of one's youth — and how the minutest
details of one's life are lived over again. Home and
friends are with him, and it seems as if their presence
were real ; the good he has done, the wrongs he has
suffered, and been guilty of, how all are reviewed and
re-enacted, and how he thinks he would undo this and
do that could he live his life over again. Clearly he
sees now the path of dut}'", and feels that it would have
been easy to follow it ; in such a mood, the triumphs
of his life are trifles light as air and his trials not worth
remembering. He will make amends if he is spared by
becoming the almoner of God's bounties to the poor.
He wonders at his own indifference in the past, and as
for the future he piously pledges himself to do unto
others as he would they should do unto him.

" Of all the hundreds in this great ship, how many are
realizing this description? How many, being fearful
would amend their lives ? How many, once safe again,
would renew them ? But thank God wo are in no such
extremity ; we are sailing over a smooth sea, in a strong

ship, which has weathered the voyage these fifty times,

iiiinp!

130

PROFESSOR CONANT.

!b„H| MlHl

wmn.

111

and not always in fine weather. Humanly speakinj^,
the conditions are all in our favor, and whatever hap-
pens will be under the eye of Him without whoso
knowledge 'not a sparrow falls.'

" You are weary and excited, and you need repose,"
continued the Doctor. " The morning will bring relief
and further evidences of God's mercies. We are rapidly
nearing home nov/, and in a few days you will be
recounting these trials with a smile, to your friends.
You may have great need of strength when you reach
them. Summon courage and seek rest."

" Pray with me, uncle," she said ; and they joined
in a fervent prayer of thanksgiving, petitioning the
Almighty Father for protection and peace.

" I feel better, uncle ; you have soothed and comforted
me , I can sleep now ; good night."

" Poor girl ! " said Dr. Elm woo J,- musingly, after she
left. " I wish I could comfort myself with the confi-
dence which I tried to impart to her. She will have a
fearful burden to carry when she reaches home. I won-
der, would she not have been better able to meet it had
she accepted Tom's suit?"

It was late at night, but De Luynes and the young
men were still on deck. "I cannot sleep," said De
Luynes ; " this fog is so dense and our speed is so great,
that I am afraid ; we are within the chapter of accidents,
and a collision would sink us ; beyond the whistle, the
ship can take no precautions. The sea is alive with
steamships and coasters. I have been trying in vain to
persuade the Cr^ptain to slacken speed ; he was not rade,
but he gave me to understand that he was in command
of the vessel. Heavens! that light I" There, was a
cry of " ship ahead ! "

" WHO COULD FORESEE PERILS ! "

131

"Port your helm !" shouted tlio officer; it was too
late ; a brig had struck them, and a terrible crash fol-
lowed ; everybody was hurled prostrate. In two min-
utes the deck was covered with half-dressed and ter-
rified passengers. 7^e confusion was fearful; the ex-
citement had no bounds ; women and children rushed
aimlessly about utter iiig piteous cries and supplications;
and, with few exceptions, the men were equally frantic.

Above all the tumult was heard the clear, ringing
voice of De Luynes shouting, " Silence ! We are all
safe ; let us have order and all may yet be well."

Courage always inspires hope, and there was a lull,
as if men waited to see what he would do next. The
ship had righted herself, but the engine and machinery
had stopped. There were cries of distress from the
neighboring brig. She was disabled and sinking.
Her crew had taken to the water. To lower the
boats of the Alaric was but the Avork of a few min-
utes ; they moved toward the wreck cautiously in
the darkness, that they might avoid the suction of the
sinking ship while they sought to rescue her people.
The lanterns could not penetrate the thick fog, and the
sailors, who could not see, shouted that help was at
hand, and thus encouraged the desperate swimmers.
Some were pulled into the boats ; some having made
for the ship's signal lights, were assisted to climb up
ber side, while others, alas ! less fortunate, were lost.

The passengers of the Alaric had, momently, for-
gotten their own troubles in striving to watch the strug-
gles for life going on around them. Of course, they
could see nothing, but they heard th<^ cries of distress
^'ith, now and again, a word of encouragement. At
length all was silent, except the voices of the men aa

132

PROFESSOR CONANT.

lili

the boats "wero returning. Meantime, tlie Captain had
been examining the ship and had found her sadly dam-
aged. Her bow had been crushed in; some of tlio
rigging of the lost vessel had been entangled with tho
screw, and had stopped the engine, leaving no motivo
power, except the canvas, which, under the most favor-
able circumstances could only pro2:)el the steamer a
few miles an hour.

The rescued sailors reported their vessel as the Span-
ish brig Isabella, bound from the West Indies to Liver-
pool. She had been struck amidships and cut in two.
The Captain, his wife and children were among the lost.

" Poor sufferers," said our Captain, " only with this
brief record do their lives come into ours ; perhaps be
was a brave seaman and his wife a lovely help-meet ;
was it not after all a mercy that when they were called
they might tread together the shoreless depths of tlie
sea of death ? They were not like the two women grind-
ing at the mill ; the one taken and the other left ; they
died as they had lived, united."

The passengers began slowly to withdraw from tlie
deck, and thus quiet was restored ; for notwithstanding
all their misfortunes, there was as yet no actual dis-
comfort. They had now to depend on the sails, and
might be days longer at sea ; but if they could avoid
a storm, the good ship would weather it out.

What a day was that which followed I the presence
of death, the sense of danger escaped; the rean^ion
from intense excitement and fear, was like the bruised
sensation that follows extreme tension of the muscles.
Each had lived a life-time in a few hours, and yet all
felt that their sufferings had been rewarded, because
comparative safety had succeeded the hour of trial

\ niiil Mii.'';^i;;!<ii)

" TF//0 GOULD FORESEE PERILS!''

133

Our travellers were not so prostrated, for they pos-
sessed more than the average of courage and self-re-
liance ; but they were thoughtful and disquieted. Per-
haps all this strain had been a mercy to those who had
suffered. At any rate, it had brought the lovers to-
gether again, and for the moment they had forgotten the
cause of their recent separation. Was it because they
were dear that they were again near to each other?
The distraction was a positive relief to the De Luynes,
who had been so much oppressed by their own troubles.

" Carlotta," De Luynes said to his wife, " I felt at
one time that the hope you have so often expressed
would be realized — that we should die together."

" Oh ! Maurice," she answered, "if it had come to
that, I could not have borne that you should go alone."
She spoke of home, which they were nearing, of their
poor old mother, whom they should meet no more.

" What a sweet, pure life she led, Maurice ! Oh that
my life could be such a blessing to others ! How
calmly I am sure she went to her reward. But she
loves us still. Do you not think she watches over us
now in our perils ? "

" She loves us still, dear Carlotta," he said to her, as
the eyes of both filled with tears. " She sent Gustave
with that message," he added aside. " It is all clear to
rae now. Is this an inspiration ? Are hidden things
revealed to us as we grow older?"

" Good morning. Holt," he said aloud, as that gentle-
man with a polite bow to Carlotta joined them. They
spoke of the accident ; Holt was hopeful, nay, confident.

The machinery was disabled. Holt remarked; but
apart from that, the ship as good as new. The sailing
would be slow, but it was not dangerous.

Mill

WT^

134

PROFESSOR CONANT.

ili'iiiii

All had words of sympathy for the poor fellows who
had been lost from the unfortuuate vessel.

" Sister Ethel will be waiting for us with our dear
little one," said Madame De Luynes abruptly. " God
grant that wo may reach them safely ; my sister would
start for Quebec yesterday; you must see my sister
Ethel, Mr. Holt ; she is a dear girl, and they flatter me
by saying that she resembles me."

" Yes," said Maurice, " Sister Ethel is among the
loveliest of women, and in appearance and disposition
she is like my wife."

Robert responded politely.

" Oh, my baby," resumed Madame De Luynes ; " how
I long to embrace her ! I wonder if she has changed
much, and will she know me, Maurice ? Of course, you
don't care for babies, Mr. Holt, but you would be struck
with the child's great, lustrous eyes."

" They are like her mother's," said Maurice.

"Dear old Nora, her nurse, has been so faithful,"
continued the child's mother ; " I am glad we brouglit
her presents from Paris. I don't mean that she is
' old ' in years ; one uses the word as a term of endear-
ment ; " and so the fond mother continued to speak of
her darling, till her husband and friend persuaded her
to seek rest and composure.

It was mid-day ; the ship was doing poor work and
the sky was overcast and lowering. The wind had
freshened and the fog was lifting ; but the most power-
ful glass showed no signs of the lost vessel ; all hope
was abandoned for the safety of those who had not
been rescued in the morning.

" I fear that our troubles are not over," Dr. Elmwood
observed to the Professor ; " there is a storm gathering,

"WHO COULD FORESEE PERILS/"

185

and in a storm wo should navigate poorly with a dis-
abled ship."

*' I have great confidence in the Captain," was the
answer. "These ships maintain the discipline of a
man-of-war ; our position is not unprecedented, and we
can depend upon the best of human skill to bring ua
safely into port."

" Yet we owe our misfortune to a palpable blunder,
or worse," remarked the Doctor ; " running at full speed
through a dense fog. It might have saved us a day, if
there had been no accident, but it multiplied our
chances of disaster. Do you believe the collision
would have occurred if we had been running at half
speed ? Do Luynes was frantic about it all last
evening, and, I am told, had sharp words with the
Captain, "

"Who, I suppose, was simply obeying his orders,"
interrupted the Professor.

'Oh, as to that, the criticism is just the same, whether
the responsibility rests with the Company or with the
officers of the ship ; already, lives have been lost and
more are in jeopardy. It would be a poor compensation
to say that the Alaric tried to make better time than
^""ssels of another line."

" There is truth in what you say," said the Professor.
"Wlienwe commit ourselves to the mercies of the deep
we are entitled to every protection from those who are
amply paid for transporting us safely."

" Yes," rejoined the Doctor, " and if we are lost, there
will be censure and, perhaps for a time, more caution ;
but if we come safely into port our adventures will be
forgotten, and the abuse will go on till others, less for-
tunate, are lost by the blunders which threatened us.

136

PROFESSOR CON A NT.

Men are slow to prevent mishaps, even when the 'Tangur
is plain enougli ; wo are apt to move against them, with
a strong hand, after they have occurred."

" Cheer up," said the Professor ; " you are morbid,
my dear friend."

" "We are in God's hands," remarked the Doctor, as
ho walked leisurely away. ^.

Knots of jjassengers were talking earnestly here and
there. There were now none of the amusements and
hilarities of the early days of the voyage. During the
afternoon the storm continued to threaten, and a stiff
north-easterly wind set in. The sea, which had been
tranquil, became agitated, and the ship drifted at its
mercy. Her bow had been stove in, and the forward
compartment was filled with water.

" If this should increase to a gale we shall have a
rough night," the captain said to the first officer.
" We are prepared for the worst, sir ; the side lights
have been screwed up, and everything about the deck
is securely lashed." ** She seems to lie easy now, with
the help of this aft-sail, but I am afraid, with a heavy
sea, she might fall off into the trough of it. "

" That's so, sir," responded the first officer. " And,
in that case, we might lose our boats and start the
bulkhead." "We must do our best; though the
chances are against us."

Toward the night the wind blew a gale, and the out-
look was gloomy and threatening. The terrors of the
morning were reviving among the passengers. De
Luynes, calm and resolute, his wife leaning on his arm,
was everywhere seeking to encourage them. The ship
tumbled and rolled on the agitated waters; a heavy
sea washed the deck and bore two unfortunate sailors to

> <r]

WHO COULD FORESEE PERILS!''

137

destruction. A third clung to the lee-rigging and was
rescued in a state of exhaustion.

De Luynes summoned his friends to his cabin and
instructed them as to the use of the life-preservors.

"Our danger is," he said, "that our ship may bo
swamped in a trough of the sea and founder. That
risk may ba remote, but it is well to prepare for it."

" The danger is not imminent," remarked Lord Bol-
ton, " but it is right to adopt precautions."

All this time the ship was pitching and lurching, as
if each strain might be her last ; everywhere children
were crying, women were moaning and screaming, and
men and women, more composed, were kneeling ; some
in silent, others in audible, prayer. It was a scene
wliich few have witnessed, and, once witnessed, no one
can forget. There was a universal bidding adieu to
life and a supplication for mercy.

At length the storm burst, the wind blew a gale, and
the waves became rolling mountains of water ; yet, up
to this time, the ship had kept her course, and the sails
had assisted to steady her. The wind suddenly shifted
and blew a hurricane, which made a cross-sea. She
reeled and tumbled, under the strange pressure, like
one who was becoming weary in an unequal fight, and
was attacked by fresh enemies ; twisting and turning,
in the fierce conflict, she was at length caught in a
trough of the sea. It was a peril from which it seemed
ohe could never be rescued. The commotion on board
^as frightful. Passengers clung to whatever was strong
enough to support them, or were hurled, helpless and
bruised, along the deck. Some shrieked with pain from
their hurts ; others from the terror of the surround-
ings. This state of things continued all night, but in the

:i m

138

PROFESSOR CONANT.

\ ' 'ill I

"\\>\

iiiiiiii

I ■ill

ill!' ■

1(1

Ipiiilih::-'

'■ I'Hi

'lilll.li

11!

\'y<\:\\'.\

morning the wind had moderated, and there was a
lull.

" Captain," said Lord Bolton, clinging to a life-line,
"Avill you lower a boat and allow me with my compan-
ions to put to sea in her '? "

" Impossible," was the reply. " No beat could live in
this 88a, and we have neither men nor officers to spare."

"We want no help," urged Lord Bolton. "Haifa
dozen of us have been in the navy and can manage a
boat in a storm. I would risk one in the open sea
sooner than this."

The captain always said in excuse afterward that lie
had been magnetized by Lord Bolton's vehement man-
ner. His lordship had already gathered his friends.
One of the boats, that had done service yesternifijlit,
was lowered. His friends at first assented and then re-
fused to accompany him. " There is no fime to be
lost," he said ; "it is a choice of evils." He had trusty
companions to aid in managing the boat, and the
majesty of his manner persuaded them. The passen-
gers looked on, but nobody would have taken the risk.
The difficulty of boarding her seemed insurmountable.

" Come with lis, De Luynes, you will be safer," said
he. " The boat will be well manned and the chances
are a hundred to one in our favor."

" Shall we go, Carlo^ ^a ? "

" As you like," she responded.

After many attempts, they were finally successful,
and Lovd Bolton's boat, manned by his friends and laden
with his party, was launched upon the turbulent waters.

"Now, boys, keep her before the wind," he cried;
" we are all safe if you obey me ; " and they sailed
away, and were soon out of sight of the ship. There

T^f

' WHO COULD FORESEE FEIilLS /"

139

as a

i-liue,
apau-

ive in
pare."
kaXi a
lago a
len sea

hat lie
t inan-
[riends.
irniglit,
blieure-
^ to l)e
trusty
md tlie
passen-
le risk,
ntable.
r," saul
chances

jcessiul,
iidladeii
waters.
[e cried;
sailed
There

was no panic, such was the magnetic influence of tlieir
brave pilot ; and there was even little apprehension.

On board the ship things went from bad to worse,
with no prospect, except of that final relief, which, at
first, they had all so much dreaded. The sails were
blown away, the sea had been breaking over the ship,
and the water, rushing down the sky-lights and com-
panion-ways, was slowly filling her. At this moment a
steamer was reported coming toward them. Signals of
distress were hoisted, and, to their intense relief, were
promptly answered. The reaction aboard ship was
instantaneous ; despair was replaced by hope and even
confidence, and the emotions of the passengers were
scarcely less manifest under the latter conditions than
they had been in the former.

The captain of the sinking steamer signalled his con-
dition, and asked the stranger for aid. She approached
and promised by signals to send out boats. The boats
of the Alaric, except two on the lee-quarter, were
washed away, as were also her life-rafts, and the decks
liad been swept of everything movable ; but torn
shreds of sail hung from the broken yards, and the
whistling of the winds over the deck, and through tlio
cordage, was like a concert of fiends in the ears of the
imprisoned passengers. The gale exhausted itself in
titful squalls and copious showers, which the sailors
knew would shortly smooth the waters. On board the
succoring ship strong and willing hands wero at work
swinging out the boats preparatory to lowering them
for the rescue of the doomed ship's passengers. Within
three hours, so skilfully had the work been managed,
every man, woman and child had been transferred
to the stranger vessel, and not too soon ; for scarcely

iWm!

iiiill

!i!!!U":ffl:

140

PROFESSOR CONANT.

had an hour elapsed before the ill-fated Alaric, dipping
and plunging, sank beneath the sea.

It was night now, and darkness prevailed. The res-
cued passengers were safe on board the good steamer
lliiersj bound for Havre. At the suggestion of tlie
Captain of the Alaric, the Thiers passed the night and a
great part of the next day in a fruitless search for tlie
missing life-boat. There would be many discomforts
in a crowded ship, but the most fastidious would hear
them for the sake of security and rest. But where were
Lord Bolton and his friends? The most callous would
have been glad to know, and wished them kindly.
"Would they be all lost ? Would they not have been
safer to have remained with the ship ?

iliiiiliiiiliil !

ili biiii

. it-i, '.Ti. ■:•/

ippmg

le res-
teamer
of tlie
t and a
for tlie
omforts
Id bear

CHAPTER XIV.

"THE KING OF TERROBS."

The nest morning was bright, but there was a remi-
niscence of the storm in the agitation of the waters. A
life-boat was lying to, and a single glass was seeking to
descry a sail. It was Lord Bolton's. The night had
been stormy and perilous to his frail craft. Precious
lires had been lost ; and the survivors were in mourn-
ing. Early the night before, a dip of the boat had
tlirown Miss Roberts into the sea ; half a dozen bold
swimmers had leaped after her, but she had not been
rescued, and only half of those who had gone to her
aid rei irned. Lord Bolton, Tom, Cuthbert, and Holt
were saved, but two of the young men, and alas ! Do
Luynes, who had almost saved the young girl, and had
performed prodigies of daring, had finally succumbed
and been drowned. Overwhelmed by this calamity,
Madame De Luynes had swooned and was still uncon-
scious. Such restoratives as they had, were applied
without effect, and the greatest anxiety was enter-
tained. Mrs. Roberts was scarcely less overcome.
Lord Bolton, mmdful of his responsibilities, exer-
cised a wonderful self-command, and did everything
to give his friends comfort and confidence. In his
fflanageraent of the boat he had displayed the skill
of a sailor and the courage of a hero ; they were well
provided with rations, but ;

were anxious

igh

1-12

PROFESSOR CONANT.

ship, and had been watching for a sail the whole morn-
ing. The ranks of the crew had been sadly thinned, and
those who were left were mourners ; but they had stout
hearts and brawny arms ; and they made for the west,
the sun and the stars guiding them, and as the waves
would permit. Their invalids for some time did not
improve. Mrs. Eoberts had regained consciousness,
but was still suffering from nervous prostration.
Madame De Luynes remained in an unconscious state
and without much sign of vitality. Taken all in all, it
was a lamentable outlook, and stronger hearts, if one
could have found them, might have quailed. But the
sea grew quieter as the day wore on, and they hoisted a
sail and sped onward as best they could.

Miss Winthrop was unceasing in her attentions to
Madame De Luynes. Lord Bolton thought it better to
let her rest ; but Miss Winthrop feared that the pro-
longed swoon would endanger her chances of resuscita-
tion. They all expressed hopes or fears, but no one
could give advice as to treatment ; and so it happened
that nature was left to herself, and sometimes slie is
the best physician. At all events, while the intellect
was obscured, her deadly misfortunes did not haunt
her, and returning consciousness might set her faculties
on edge and render grief more wearing than prostra-
tion. She remained thus till toward evening, when a
deep sigh denoted returning animation. She spoke,
but her voice was hoarse and unnatural ; opening her
eyes, she regarded them with the vacant stare of one
dazed and trying to remember.

" Papa will meet us at the station, darling," she said;
" he has been waiting long for us, and, oh, how his lit-
tle Ethel and mamma will love him !" There was not

" THE KING OF TERROIIS."

143

le saicl;
his lit-
kvas not

a dry eye among them. " Dear Maurice," she contin-
ued, " how cruelly he has been misunderstood by his
euemies ; ho only wanted to do good, but they painted
him black to his own dear people whom he loved, and
tliey thwarted him at every turn. But he was patient,
he never cursed them. ' I must render good for evil,'
he said to me. Maurice, darling, did I chide you some-
times ? Well, it's all over now ; I was exacting, per-
haps ; my love was selfish. Come, let us embrace and
forgive each other." Then she would seem to fondle
her child and address her dear friends, and finally she
lapsed into stupor again.

" This is dreadful," said Lord Bolton ; and so they
passed the long night, some of them between waking
aud sleeping, others on the watch and at the tiller.
Carlotta alternately slept and wandered ; but she ut-
tered no word to indicate consciousness of her sad be-
reavement.

"Sister Ethel," she said once, " we met a young gen-
tleman in our travels, he v/as, oh, so kind ! If I had
been young I should have admired him. "We told him
aboat you."

Next morning a sail was in view and they tried to sig-
nal her by every means available. At length she made
toward them, and they felt that deliverance was near.
-^ey were rescued and received every kindness and at-
tention. The relieving vessel was the good ship
^hterho, bound from Havana to Quebec, and they
^ere within tv;o days of the latter port. Lord Bolton
looked at once after the comfort of his friends. Mrs.
I Roberts was convalescent ; he pressed her hand and loft
"er without speaking. She understood his emotion and
purst into tears.

jipiBiiii'i'

Mtl ii^ii[i~iit);n

144

PROFESSOR CONANT.

" Oh ! my lost sister," slio said, " why could you not
have lived to make him happy? "

Carlotta did not recognize him, but addressed liim
as " Mons. le Cure," and upbraided him for his animos-
ity towards her husband.

"If you knew him as I know him," she said, "you
would mourn for your mistake in having crushed liim.
Maurice," she continued, " your mother has gone away.
You must go and fetch her. Little Ethel is at home
now with Nora. The sweet child ! we shall see her to-
morrow ; and oh, Maurice, did I tell you, that awful
day, that if you should die, I would lie by your side in
the grave ? And so I would, my precious husband ;
where you go, I must follow. * Thy people shall be my
people, and thy God, my God.' "

Lord Bolton left her in tears. " The first I have shed
for years," he soliloquized. " I wonder when her eyes
are opened, will her heart be as heavy as mine ? " He
found the Professor and Dr. Elmwood fatigued but
comfortable ; Col. Lyons had not accompanied him in
the boat, and his young friends were about seeking tliat
rest which all so sadly needed. He sought his cabin,
and kneeling, prayed, " Oli, God, have mercy upon me !
My punishment is greater than I can bear. Lead me
to become the almoner of charities in Ler name, and to
such a lifetime of good works as would have been pleas-
ing in her sight ; for I know that upon my faithfulness
in these things it depends whether I shall meet lier
again." "What vicissitudes these weary suiferers have
experienced, within the last few hours, and yet what
mercies have been vouchsafed to them ! Which one of
them will remember all and profit by them to the end ?

And now our travellers have retired. The great i

" THE KINO OF TERRORS."

145

strain has been removed ; exhausted nature yields to
the reaction. Poor Carlotta, left to the care of her
maid and the surgeon, passed the time between stupor
and wandering, and the day and the night were un-
eventful. The next morning broke bright and beauti-
ful. The hills were visible in the distance, for the ship
was navigating the broad bosom of the river. Telegrams
would be sent from the first station to the friends of
the rescued. Lord Bolton had sent inquiries after all
his friends. The condition of the invalid continued
without change, but the others of the party were re-
freshed and comforted.

"That scene yondsr is magnificent," said Dr. Elm-
wood, pointing to the shore they were nearing, " if one
had tha heart to enjoy it. The altitude of the mount-
ains seems prodigious, and how beautiful is the varie-
gated foliage with which, here and there, they are
adorned."

" Beauties will multiply as we ascend the river," ob-
served the Professor, "and reach the bounds of habita-
tion and culture. On either side are rich lands, pos-
sessed by thrifty habitants, who maintain there the
liabits and customs which they brought from France
generations ago. These settlements were originally
founds d under the feudal system. There were the
Lord and his tenant, the seigneur and his censitaire. The
latter paid various tributes, and could not even take a
bushel of corn to be ground, except at the mill of his
master."

"Is not all that changed?" asked the Doctor.

" Yes," was the reply, " but you cannot in a moment
change the consequences of an old aristocratic system.
It educates a people to the idea of superiority on the

Mil

iii

III

!!K ,.. , i;.

146

PROFESSOR GONANT.

one side and to dependence on the other. One class is
born to command and the other to obey, and when you
destroy this system you may only have changed the yoke.
The people so trained are still waiting to obey, and
would fall an easy prey to illegitimate masters. Poor
De Luynes had large property down here, and he
often spoke of these conditions; he complained that
the system of education was not calculated to elevate
the people, and he despaired of improvement while
matters remained as at present."

"He was rather hopeless of Lower Canada," said
Dr. Elmwood, " and he was a man of great parts and
wide reading."

"Yes, Maurice De Luynes was an accomplished
man," remarked the Professor. " I knew his father by
reputation, and had even met him in London and in
Paris. He was a man of rare gifts, which his son
seems to have inherited. His talents might have been
of great service in a country where there was inde-
pendent public opinion ; but here there was no field
for them in politics. Science, art, belles-lettres and
benevolence, father and son might have pursued with
their ample means, and their cultivated, charitable tastes,
had the restrictions been less galling. But the scope
was too narrow, and their penchant was for public life.
The father died of a broken heart, and the son seemed
to have inherited his despondency. I had formed an
exalted opinion of him and of his fitness for the high-
est occupations. The broad views which made him un-
acceptable at home would have recommended him in
more tolerant circles. The Imperial service might have
profited by what his own country lost. I hinted
as much to him, but he did not seem ambitious of

new
said

"Yc

" TUB KING 01" TERRORS.

147

distinction, and said that he was too old to begin a
new life. So my views did not prevail."

"He has entered a higher service now, poor fellow,"
said the Doctor, sadly, "and from what I hear, his wife
may soon follow him."

Tom and Miss Winthrop met for the first time since
their rescue, that morning, and at sight of him she
burst into tears. "Pray forgive my weakness," she
said at length, " but I am not strong yet, and every-
thing has been so dreadful. What shall I say to my
brother ? How can I comfort him ? "

" Great griefs are not assuaged with words," replied
Tom, " and perhaps you will find guidance when you
have need. His trials might have been sore, even if no
accident had befallen us. He must suffer as others
have suffered, and he will find strength and aid where
others have found them. Am I a clumsy comforter?
Aod yet I can pity him, for I know what desolation
\\ould have overwhelmed my heart if I had lost you."

Miss Winthrop bade him be silent, but gave him her
liand. " We must not be selfish," she said ; " if our
burdens are lighter than those of others, we have so
much the more sympathy to spare. But what can 1
say to my poor brother ? "

"Wait," said Tom, "till he comes; the occasion will
inspire you."

"Will ho come here," she asked, "on board the

ship?" ^ ^

" No, that will be impossible, but ho will not lose
time ; if he does not meet you at Quebec, I shall go
with you to Boston; but, ah, I had forgotten your

uncle."

"You shall come, my friend," said the young lady,

148

PROFESSOR CONANT.

k'4

ll!i|.!i

'\mm

mn i I

\mm\

" if my undo and my brother are both there. "Who
can be nearer to me than you, who have shielded me
on this terrible voyage of death?" she added, passion-
ately.

Torn saw the change with delight, but lie did not
notice it openly. " She loves me," he thought, enrapt-
ured ; " but I must not press her nov/."

All the other young men were in a group around Mr.
and Mrs. ^,oberts, but their sympathy was conveyed by
looks rather than by words.

" That is a touching picture," said Dr. Elmwood to
the Professor, as the sad group caught their attention.
" But where is Bolton ? He was on deck thi^ morning
to inquire for us, but usually he has clung to the soli-
tude of his cabin ; his heart is terribly wrung."

Holt, catching the last words, said, "Yes, poor fel-
low ; he is dreadfully broken and has entirely given up
at last. He mastered himself with a strong will while
his responsibilities lasted. I never knew his fine quali-
ties as they have been displayed in this great trial, thougli
I have always admired him. But it is pitiable to see
him now."

"You should go to him," said the Professor to Dr.
Elmwood.

"I was with him last night," was the reply. "He
was full of reverence and resignation ; it is better to
leave him alone now that his marvelous self-coramaiKl
has yielded to a natural grief. He will find relief and
composure after giving way to it. I will seek him br-
and-bye. He is one to gather strength from spiritual
consolation. He feels himself crushed, but he speaks
beautifully of his trust in Divine aid, and his longing to
lead that better life which he knows will drawbim

" THE KING OF TERRORS:

149

nearer to lier whom ho has lost." " Ho is loss rosignocl
now," sfiiil Ilobert ; " he regards his bereavement as
punishmout, and incessantly mourns that it is greater
than ho can bear."

" But his sense of duty will make him strong again,"
observed the Doctor. " There are other sufferers, and
Bolton is not the man to give way to what he calls self-
ish gi'iofs, while others nee J. his assistance."

" Yes, wo are all sufferers," remarked Robert, " and
we have all been objects of his solicitude. But ho
blames himself about the Do Luynes. He says that
but for him they would have remained on the Alaric.**

" And both have been lost," said a voice.

"Then, in grieving over the loss of Miss Roberts,"
continued Holt, " he fears that he over-persuaded her ;
and says that her brother, until finally pressed by her,
seemed unwilling to go in the life-boat. Sometimes lie
feels that he was reckless and wonders does Roberts
blame him."

Roberts overheard this, and said to his wife : " "We
must j^o to him, poor follow ; he has behaved so nobly
unci now he needs us."

"Miss Roberts was a noble character," Holt continued.

" And both noble and lovely were the De Luynes,"
added the Doctor.

"Yes. I was intimate with Maurice for days, and
I ^e spoke of many things which I am now glad to have
1 discussed with him. It is strange how I at first mis-
judged him, but toward the end, as I knew him hotter,
lie inspired me with a tender regard which one man
rarely entertains for another. He was too sensitive
pud deprecatory of himself ; he regarded his life as a
I'ailure because he had not won success in a single path,

ill?

150

PROFESSOU (J0NAN2\

iliilWiii

but he said tliat, in his circumstances, there was noth-
ing left for him of political usefulness, and that public
opinion was too superstitious and credulous to afford
him a fair field. He was brought up under the eye of
his father, who had delegated to an old friend, a Jesuit,
the duty of instructing his boy. De Luynes' quick per-
ceptions revolted against some of the lessons he had
been taught, but he found a strange delight in others.
He had a taste neither for exaggerated humiliatious
and self-denials, nor for the unreasoning obedience
which he was taught. His imagination was fascinated
by pictures of celestial purity and by the mystic phi-
losophy he learned ; but such was tlie natural and out-
spoken frankness of his character that he was in little
danger of ever acting upon such teachings as would
lead him, for any cause, to pervert the truth, or
to do evil that good might come. The old Jesuit loved
him, but, of course, subordinately to the interests of his
Order ; and he marked out for him a career in life very
different from that which the young man actually fol-
lowed. Maurice's father watched the progress of his
son with satisfaction, for he saw that he was gaining
knowledge without imbibing a spirit of hostility to
liberty. Finally, when he went to Paris to complete
his education, he was carefully guarded from extremes,
and was trained to be, at once, a loyal son of Ins
Church and an earnest advocate of freedom. He loved j
the genius but deplored the skepticism of the popular
liiterafeiirs ; and he would have restrained the people
through the influence of a holy faith and the spiritual!
teachings of the Church, which left them room to thini
and act for themselves in matters public and secular.f
I suggested that there might be difficulty in drawing

•♦ THE KINO OF terrors:'

151

the line, but he said, * No, there could bo nothing in-
corapiitible between the service of God and an inde-
penclout and conscientious devotion to one's country.
Tlio Church nii*^ht denounce free-thinkers in religious
mattern, but she must not interfere with free speech
and free opinions in the service of the State.' He read
law in Paris, but he frequented society at the same
time, and perhaps learned more of the world than of
jurisprudence. There, too, he met Carlotta Lytton, of
Connecticut, whose father had, at one time, been
attached to the American Embassy. Carlotta was a
New England girl, but had spent some time in France
with her mother's friends, and was a favorite of society
there. The year after, he married her, and they took
up their residence on his estate in Canada. About this
time his father died and left him a large fortune. He
was ambitious to serve his people, and was elected to
parHament. But you have learned from his own lips
that he was overmatched and crushed by his enemies.
He made no secret of his disappointment, regarding
himself a victim of intolerance and bigotry. The rest
you know. His young wife, as you have all seen, is
worthy of him, and may soon rejoin him. If she lives,
what sorrow and desolation await her! There is a
strange romance about their child, the shock of whose
loss killed De Luynes' mother ; but I believe the cliild
is safe and will soon be restored to her desolate home."

"Truth is stranger than fiction," said the Professor.
"What a sad romance it all is ! "

Mr. and Mrs. Eoberts had sent a message to Lord
Bolton, desiring an interview, and he had promised to
come to them in an hour. He entered their presence
with a firm step and an air of self-control.

;^ii!8i

■■■r

-1

4,i

IHn

;.>■;

til

■1

152

PROFESSOR CONANT,

" I Lave sent for you," said Mr. Roberts, " because
my wife and I felt that we must see you ; but not to in-
dulge in any formal expressions. Perhaps, in view of
our terrible loss, words are more trying than solitude.
You, who have loved her so much, ought to know that
she was not indifferent to your attention?*. You may
have divined as much, but sho felt that in her position
she could not tell you all. After a short acquaintance
last winter my sister became engaged to an excellent
and most promising young man. He was im2)atient
to be married at once, but though she loved him, she
sought to postpone the marriage. His letters were im-
portunate, however, and she finally consented to marry
him shortly after our return. After her acquaintance
with you, she began to have doubts about herself, and
of her real love for George Winthrop ; * but I have
promised him,' she would say to me, 'and I must dis-
cuss this matter with George before I harbor a thought
of being disloyal to him. He is noble and generous
j,nd would release me, brt I am bewildered and miser-
able. George and the world might think that wealth
and position had influenced me, and I am bound in
honor to be true to my pledge ' Her one idea was to
hide her heart and be worthy of her fiance. Had she
lived, she would have told you all this, but now it be-
comes my duty to do so."

" I knew it all," said Lord Bolton, '-'and I was selfish
to press my attentions ; she acted the part of a
true woman. Under the discipline of the last few
days, I might have learned unselfishness ; but as things
were, I never could have given her up to another. Was
it to rebuke my assurance that she was snatched from
me in i lis dreadful way ? Doss the hand of a kind

*' THE KIXO OF TERROns:'

153

cause

to in-

B\v of

itude.

r tliat

u may

)sition

iitance

ccllent

[^)atient

m, slie

ere im-

\ marry

intauce

elf, and
I have

List clis-

tliought

ciierous
miser-
wealtli

louiicl in
was to
rlad slie
it be-

Providence rule over these things ? Oh, God ! "Why
couklst Thou not in some other way have afflicted
me?" And overcome by his emotions he sobbed
aloud. They all wept ; and after a pause, Mrs. Roberts,
recovering herself, placed her hand upon Lord Bolton's
shoulder and said : " My dear friend :

" 'Tlicro is no Death! What seems so, is transition ,

1'his life of niorttil breatli

Is but a suburb of tlio life elysian.

Whose portal we call death.

" 'In that great cloister's stillness and seclusion.
By guardiun angels led,

Safe from temptation, safe from sin's pollution,
She lives whom we call dead.' "

The scene on either side of ^he river was beauti-
ful; but nobody was in a mood to enjoy it; and when
night set in, everybody gladly retired for the last
time during this untoward voyage. Next morning the
roors and spires of the old city were visible, and as
the ship finally came alongside of her wharf, l\tis3
Winthrop espied her brother, and there was mutual
recognition. Ethel Lytton, with friends, was also in
\vaiting and prepared to board the shiji for her swl in-
terview, though not prepared for the shock produced
by the condition of her widov/ed sister. Carlotta, still
wandering in mind, recognized no one, but spoke plain-
tively of her husband and child. She was taken in lov-
ing arms to a carriage, and was driven rapidly to her
desolate home, which she called an hotel, and in which
she expected Maurice and little Ethel soon to join her.
Lord Bolton and Holt followed to make inquiries and

to offer assistance, and met Miss Lytton, who was

154

PROFESSOR CONANT.

strangely calm and self-possessed. The doctor was with
her sister, and had less fear for her life than for her
reason; but all thought unconsciousness a mercy,
so dreadful would have been her condition had she
realized all her loss.

At this moment a cable was handed Miss Lytton, ad-
dressed to Maurice De Luynes. She was overcome for
the moment. Eobert's quick eye caught the situation,
and he asked politely to be allowed to read it to her. It
was from Gustavo. Little Ethel was found safe and
well, and would return with him by the next steamer.

"Be tranquil, I can explain it all," he said, and he
told her of Gustave's interview with Maurice and his
own relations to the child.

" She will be here in a week," said Miss Lytton,
much excited. " You have saved her ; pray remain
with us till she arrives."

Holt readily assented.

" You will stay with me, Bolton," he said.

"With all my heart, if you desire it," and addressing
Miss Lytton, he added ; " I have a superstitious faith
that the arrival of the child will restore the mother; I
have known such things."

" God grant that it may be so," she said, nervously.

As the visitors were taking their leave. Miss Lytton
and her friends pressed them to take up their lodgings
at the mansion.

" This is no place to accept hospitalities," consider-
ately remarked Lord Bolton ; " we can remain only if
we may be of service."

" If it would not incommode you," said the young
lady, " you would gratify me by remaining. I cannot
regard you as strangers."

" THE KING OF TERRORS:'

155

"witli
• her
ercy,
I slie

Q, ad-
ne for
lation,
er. It
[e and
earner,
md lie
ind liis

Lytton,
remain

dressing
.s faitli
itlier;!

^onsly.

Lytton

llodgings

jonsider-
Ln only i^

So it was arranged that they should return later.
Their luggage was lost, and a fresh wardrobe must be
provided. But that night they slept under what had
been the roof of Maurice De Luynes.

There was no change in Carlotta's condition ; the first
impression of the physician was confirmed, that her life
was not in danger but that her reason was overthrown.
A severe illness, a sudden shock, or, time might restore
her ; but at present quiet and good nursing were all that
were needed. An uncle and aunt of De Luynes were
in the house with Miss Lytton, and occasionally friends
and relations stayed for a few days at the mansion,
but the care of the stricken hous'^iold fell upon her.
The young lady was equal to her responsibilities.
She had been carefully trained for such emergencies,
while, at the same time, her polite education had not
been neglected.

" What a beautiful girl," both her guests exclaimed
as she retired, and left them for the first time alone
together.

" How she resembles her sister," Lord Bolton said.
" Except that she has a younger and more cheery look,
I would swear that she was Madame De Luynes."

"Yes, Maurice told me that," Holt observed, "almost
the last time we spoke together on the Alarky

"Poor Maurice ! " said Lord Bolton ; " how little he
dreamed of what was in store for his ' dear Carlotta,' as
he called her."

ill

lie yonn^
ll cannot

'11

CHAPTER XV.

"de luynes honored in death."

We left Miss Winthrop and her brother at the ship.
Their meeting was quiet but affectionate, and they
reserved, till tliey should be alone, the sorrowful
explanations which he expected. George Winthrop
was a tall, handsome young man, with fine features and
a commanding presence. Miss Winthrop presented him
hastily to the Professor and Tom, and they all went to
the hotel together.

"As we have no baggage," said Cuthbert, "Boniface
will require a deposit in cash."

If this observation was intended as a johc the re-
mark fell unheeded. George explained to his sister
that his uncle Horace was in Washington, but could
not come for a day or two, although he had telegraphed
kind greetings. The whole party was anxious to leave,
though none of them had been in Quebec before ; they
were in no mood, however, for sight-seeing, and had
little desire to remain. They would all travel together
as far as Montreal, where they would separate, some
going to New York, others to Boston. Dr. Elmwood
decided to accompany his niece, and Tom determined
to go on with his father^ " They could go up the river
to Montreal," Tom said, " which they might reach by
steamer in the morning, or they could go comfortably
by rail in five hours."

"Z>^ LUYNES UONORED IN DEATU.

157

sliip.

tliey

)wful

ilirop

s and

illiim

Bnt to

niface

le re-
sister
could
taplied
leave,
tliey
Id liad
lo-ctlier
some
iwood

io river
icli l)y
)rtably

" I vote for the cars," cried Miss Wintlirop. " Let us
have variety, even in our perils."

"Yes, just for once," said Fred, aside ; " I'd rather bo
shattered than smothered."

It was agreed that Tom should pay his respects at
the De Luynes mansion, to make inquiries, and after
that they should leave in an hour. " It is such a
short job to pack," said Fred ; so they left without see-
ing anything of the classic and historic city.

That night they rested safely at Montreal in a magnif-
icent hotel, which could not be surpassed in comfort by
any hostelry they would afterwards visit. Early next
morning they pursued their journey, and the following
night, Dr. Elmwood, with George and his sister arriv^ed
at their uncle's in Boston ; while the Professor, with
Tom and his friends, took fashionable quarters in New
York.

The newspapers were filled with sensational accounts
of the loss of the ill-fated Alaric, and the trials and
escapes of the rescued passengers. A few days later,
the safe arrival of the Thiers was telegraphed from
Havre, and all the passengers were reported well. The
Avorst was now known, and a sense of relief followed.

We must leave the Professor and his friends to the
quiet and rehajbilitation they needed. Meantime, Lord
Bolton and Robert were still at the De Luynes man-
sion, whose mistress continued in the same unsatisfac-
tory condition.

Ottawa is the capital of Canada, two or three hun-
dred miles above Quebec, and there the Vice-Regal
family generally resides ; at some seasons, however,
the old military castle or citadel of Quebec, is occupied
hy the Queen's representative. Lord Lester was there

158

PROFESSOR CONANT.

s ;;»■/

now, and had tendered hearty hospitalities to Lord
Bolton and Robert, which they, for obvious reasons, had
politely declined. They called to pay their respects,
however, and found the Governor full of sympathy.
Her Excellency, the Countess, though a person of very
exalted rank in her own right, was full of womanly sym-
pathy and went herself each day to inquire after
Madame De Luynes, and tendered Miss Lytton every
assistance possible. At first, she had insisted upon
visiting the patient personally, but Carlotta did not rec-
ognize her, though they had known each other well.

" The city, with its environs, is beautiful," said Lord
Bolton to Holt, one fine morning, as they were strolling
together, " and we ought to visit some of its principal
sights."

" It is classic ground in North America, but I have
no heart for all that," replied Holt. " To my mind it is
chiefly distiDguished, now, as the home of the loveliest
and most unhappy of women."

" You are right," said his companion ; " when will the
child come ? My prophetic spirit tells me that the lit-
tle one will restore the mother. But, upon what deso-
lation will she open her eyes ! The ship is due to-mor-
row, and we shall soon see the little Ethel. With what
charming tact Miss Lytton manages everything; she
was made for such occasions as this ; she has a strong
head and a tender heart."

" I am told that the tone of the press here, French
and English, has been generally friendly to De Luynes,"
said Lord Bolton, " while, what tney call the Rouge, or
Radical press, is full of encomium ai^d panegyric. Two
or three newspapers, it is said, however, have heaped
obloquy on poor Maurice in his watery sepulchre ; but

DE LUYNE8 HONORED IN DEATH:

159

human nature is nowhere altogether free from mean-
ness, and you may everywhere find some vile creature
who would be willing to carry his aniPiOsities beyond
the grave. There is to be a public funeral, I learn ;
they were a little slow about it, but the people are now
taking it in hand, and so the authorities are beginning
to move. There is an article, I should think very full
and fair, on Maurice De Luynes, in the morning paper,
which foil into my hands last night. It concludes by
quoting these beautiful lines :

♦' * Tender as woman ; manliness and meekness

In him were so allied
That they who judged him by his strength or weakness.

Saw but a single side.
Men failed, betrayed him, but his zeal seemed nourished

By failure and by fall,
Still, a large faith in human-kind ho cherished

And in God's love for all .
But now he rests ; his greatness and his sweetness

No more shall seem at strife ;
And death has moulded into calm completeness

The statue of his life.' "

The next day Gustave arrived with little Ethel. "Who
cannot picture to himself the delight of the friends who
welcomed her, or the terrible shock to Gustave himself,
when he heard that De Luynes was no more. They had
been cousins by blood as well as brothers in affection.
He was so stunned that the state of Madame De Luynes
scarcely interested him, and his solicitude for the child
for the moment ceased ; but he was soon aroused again.

Little Ethel shrank from the iransport of those around
ber, hut responded to Holt, and clung to him. All were
Overcome with emotion, and yet, the greatest trial was

160

PROFESSOR CON ANT.

still to come — the presentation to the mother of her
child. Carlotta sat in an easy chair ; they told her they
were bringing little Ethel to her. . Holt entered with
the baby in his arras.

" Here is your little Ethel," said her sister.

" No, Ethel is not here ; she has gone with Maurice
for his mother."

Holt cam 3 nearer, and the child made a spring for
some flowers on the table at her mother's elbow, and
the vase fell with a crash.

Carlotta sprang to her feet with excitement and
vaguely regarded the ruin. Then, looking at the child,
" Les yeux .sont heaiix,'' she murmured.

The doctor motioned them to take the child away,
and she was not affected by its absence. For that day the
trial failed. Robert returned to the library and de-
clined all offers to relieve him of the little one.

"I have often caressed her," he said to Miss Lytton,
" v/hen I thought she was likely to become mine by
adoption. I am very fond of her ; I am glad to see her
in her own home, and I wish that home were happier;
but it will be painful to mo to give her up. How the
dear little thing nestled into my heart when I first found
her in the police station in London. "

"You have never told me about that," remarked Miss
Lytton.

" I thought I had," said Holt, musingly, and then he
remembered that it was only to poor Maurice he had
related the full particulars. " When you have time I
shall tell you all the sad story, Miss Lytton, and you
will not be surprised that I grew to believe that this
child's destiny and mine were strangely entangled."

((

Tell me now, Mr. Holt."

'*DE LUYNE8 HONORED IN DEATH."

161

E lier
they
with

Then he repeated to her the sad story he had related
to Maurice, and the conditions under which he had told
it to him.

"And did Maurice know little Ethel was lost? " in-
quired Miss Lytton.

" Yes, from Gustavo, who met him at sea, but who
believed she was saved, from what I told liim, and from
this portrait which he saw," answered Holt, handing
her Ethel's likeness.

"How wonderful ! " she said, thoughtfully, " and yet
how dreadful ! What joy there would have been in this
house to-day if poor Maurice could have lived to wel-
come his child. No wonder dear Carlotta lost her rea-
son with all these accumulated horrors."

" She knew nothing of the child's loss," said Holt,
"or of its recovery. Maurice kept all that to himself."

"The noble man," she said; "and so he died with the
secret locked in his heart, for the sake of her whom he
would not let the winds of heaven visit too roughly, and
yet his death was more dreadful to her than all. *Lliom-
me propose ct Dieii dispose.'' But I must go to my sister. My
more than brother," she continued, weeping, and giving
liim her hand, " in her name and for myself, I thank you."

The nurse took the child, and after dispatching a
cable to his aunt. Holt left the house. He met Lord
Bolton just returning from the Citadel.

" Lester tells me he has heard of Prof. Conant," said
liis Lordship, " and that New York is to give him a
great public reception in a few days. Lester will be
present and is anxious we should join him." -

"It would surprise me if the Professor were not heartily
Welcomed in America," observed Holt ; " his magnificent
tribute to her greatness, in his speech the other day,

i .'

162

PROFESSOR co: ' vr.

and his life-long friendsii.^. foi her institutions,
should have endeared his name to that people. The
Americans are not ungrateful, however, to their friends
abroad, though they are perhaps over sensitive to
criticism ; but then, they are so often criticised in an
unfriendly way at home by those who fear that our
people may envy their prosperity and imitate their
management of public affairs."

" England, too, suffers criticism at the hands of
Americans," replied Lord Bolton. " The two countries
are friendly, but each contains a class of busy-bodies
and mischief-makers who live by propagating rancor
and ill-will. The oftener there can be demonstra-
tions in both countries calculated to promote mutual
good-will the better. We do not quarrel with the man
whom we are proud to entertain ; and friendly inter-
course may protect us from hostilities."

" Prof. Conant is the man for the occasion," said
Holt. " I wish the President could be received among
the people of every town and hamlet in England."

" I am of no use here, Kobert, and I am ill at ease,"
continued Lord Bolton ; " I propose to start to-morrow
and join the Professor and Tom. Do you know it was
my suggestion that Tom should come to America with
his father ? Life, as he will see it, will be so different
from that seen by an ordinary traveller. From beginning
to end, this trip will be full of lessons to him, with his
father always at hand to modify and apply them. There
is good stuff in that boy, but the life he is living is not
calculated to make the best of him. Society has its uses,
but with young fellows of promise the frivolous age
should be short, and I think Tom ought to have passed it.
He might aspire to anything in a political way, and make

DE LUYNE8 HONORED IN DEATH r

163

his visit to America his first step. Social and popular
forces here present themselves as they do in England,
but their activities may be witnessed from various points
of view, and the same problems are solved in different
ways. The * why and the wherefore ' he needs to learn,
and liis present experience should help him. A British-
er, cramped and prejudiced by insular restrictions,
may have many good points, but let his views be
broadened by contact with, and comprehension of,
the world, and you have another and more civilized
creature. This is doubly true of the Englishman, as he
follows the institutions of his own country in America,
where his own race has transplanted and nourished
them. He studies the whole machinery of government,
as it seems to have sprung from his own books, and as
it has been enlarged and modified by the conditions of
the New "World. I wanted to impress all this upon
Tom, but I have been prevented ; it is no child's play
the work ho ought to do during his visit ; after all, he
will find such work more pleasant than the mere frivol-
ities which otherwise might engross him."

" I expeci Tom is likely to have pleasanter occupation
in America just now," said Robert ; " and even if things
were serious, I would not forbid the banns. I believe
with you that he has a career before him, which an
early marriage with such a woman would not retard.
His indolence is his only fault ; you should speak to
him. Lord Bolton. After his father no living man could
influence him like yourself."

"I have always loved and admired him," was the
answer, " and I doubt not he has force enough to form
liis career ; his father has been too lenient with him ;
all he needs is an inducement ; perhaps the examples

164

PROFESSOR CONANT.

lie will see and the attachments ho will form in America
will help him. At any rate, wo will talk to him and to
his father too. I do not despair of seeing Capt. Tom
Conant a great and useful man. I am convinced lie has
no taste for the army, Holt ; it might bo all right for liim
during the engrossing occupations of war, and Capt.
Tom Conant on a peace footing would be a gem "iii
society ; but he would not too often adorn the haunts
of the studious, nor pry into the mysteries which only
intense application could solve. Ho will inherit great
wealth on his mother's side, and that prospect will not
push him to work." On the next street they met his
Worship, the Mayor, who had come lately to oflSce, aud
whom they had met casually before. That functionary,
like many of his countrymen, was strongly impressed in
the presence of an English Lord. He had grown rich
in an humble way, and had some time before risen to the
dignity of an Alderman. He was ambitious, without
many qualifications, and he had the Commons and the
Senate in his eye, but it had happened that a predeces-
sor in office had been knighted and his dream, like that
of his Lady Mayoress was, that some day he might kneel
before the Queen's representative, and rise up. Sir Peter
McGinn ! And it was not at all unlikely that good Mrs.
McGinn would before long flourish in society as ' My
Lady,' and look down from her high eminence upon
those who had been her companions in the service of a
neighboring pastry-cook's shop, only a few years before.
No doubt many cooks would better grace the position
than some who have occupied it, and if these aristo-
cratic distinctions are to be regarded as indigenous
in our democratic soil, it would not be strange to see
them fitfully conferred.

"DE LUYNES HONORED IN DEATH."

165

Lorica

ntl to
Tom

le lias

ir him
Capt.

ein *in

liaunts

h only

t great

vill not

naet liis

ice, and

tionary,

Bssed in

iwn ricii

bn to the
without
and the

iredeces-
Like that
ht kneel
^ir Peter
ood Mrs.
^as'My

ce iipoii
•vice of a
•s before,
position
iQ aristo-
idigenous
,ge to see

*♦ Good raorninp;, my Lord. I wjis going to your Lord-
ship ; I hope your Lordsliip is well," said tho Mayor,
approachiug tliem cautiously. "I seen you coming tliis
way and ventured to intercept you. I was dining at
his excel/t'^K'y's last night, and his Lordship told nio
that your Lordship and his Honor, Mr. Holt, wcro
ahout leaving tho city. I -vvauted to speak with you
five minutes, my Lord."

"Let us go to our rooms," said Lord Bolton, with
just a perceptible efl'ort at recovering his breath ; " tho
morning is too cold to stand here."

*' I expect my carriage," said the Mayor pompously ;
"would your Lordship join me in a drive? "

" Oh, no," s'iid Eobert, " it is only a walk of ten
minutes."

*' This dreadful business of poor Do Luynes is what

I come to your Lordshij^ about," observed the Mayor,

when they were seated. " The city council would not

have allowed your Lordsh>.p (nor would your Lord^ihip's

liumble servant have perLiiiLed them,) to remain in the

city without any attention in ordinary times ; but we

have been overcome by those terrible things, my Lord.

De Luynes was one of our foremost men, my Lord,

though it was true there was them as went against him.

The common people are excited ; your Lordsliip knows

they are more independent and difficult to manage

in the cities than in the rural parts ; but they say he

was wronged and crushed, and they want to honor

liim, my Lord, by a public funeral, and a dozen

societies o^' which he was a patron are moving, and

we have decided that the city must give him a public

funeral ; and we want to know if your Lordship and

liis Honor, being as you was his friends and fellow-

^ii

■!P

166

PROFESSOR CONANT.

passengers, would honor the occasion by yonr presence
as bearers."

Lord Bolton informed the Mayor that any attention to
the memory of De Luynes would engage the'r sympathy ;
though it would be as a mourner only that he would wish
to go. He added, however, it would be impossible for
him to remain so long in the city.

Robert asked him, " Was there really a reaction in
fa\ or of De Luynes ? "

" Very strong, yer Honor," said the Mayor.

" And w^ould it strongthen De Luynes' political friends
in the country ? " Robert continued.

"Oh, no," said the Mayor, thro^s^n off his guard (for
he was not one of them). " There will be a short-lived
excitement in the city, but the rural districts will be as
solid as ever. Considering who were his enemies, M.
De Luynes had un^ei taken impossible work."

" The time will c^me, as it has come in all countries,"
said Holt, " where abuses have prevailed under a
smothered public opinion, that they will be destroyed.
Some infuriatod rabble will do it, perhaps, but if tliey
had been fairly trained in constitutional matters they
might ha'.'a done better work in a less objectionable
way."

Later in the day they met a Senator, an accomplished
and sympathetic French Canadian gentleman. He
spoke tenderly of De Luynes, of his many gifts and
manifold virtues. They had been schoolmates aud
friends, and he was much affected at the harro^-ing
misfortune ihat Lad befallen him.

"My countrymen will never cease to thank you,
gentlemen, for the kindness and attention you have
shown this unfortunate family. Wo all regret that the

*'DE LUTNE^ HONORED IN DEATHS

167

sad circumstances pre\ent us showing our gratitude in
a more demonstr ivo wav, but we all know the whole
story .and shall never forget you."

Our friends saw and conversed with other kindly
people and were impressed with the tenderness of
sympathy displayed for De Luynes and his stricken
family.

Tlio next morning, Lord Bolton and Eobert Holt took
their leave, having expressed the greatest anxiety for
Carlotta's condition, the former persisting in his belief
tliat her reason would be shortly regained. It was ar-
ranged that Miss Lytton would write to Robert inform-
mg him of the condition of her sister and the child.

At New York they found the Professor much re-
freshed and Tom full of enthusiasm about the city.
Fred Cuthbert, they also learned, already knew many
people, and had been installed at many fashionable clubs.
"If these are what you call vulgar people," said Fred,
"commend me to luxury and vulgarity."

The Professor had accepted an invitation to a recep-
tion in one of the great hotels for which New York is
famous, and the newspapers, by copious notes and com-
ments, were indicating that the affair would be magnif-
icent and enthusiastic.

** I have been telling Tom that I am a little nervous
about this new character of the distinguished foreigner
in which I am to appear," remarked the Professor,
"and I am afi'aid I have not the ready tact to sus-
tain it."

Lord Bolton and Holt reassured him, and both de-
clared, what they had said btiore in our presence, that
the Professor was the man, and America the country,
for such a demonstration.

#ll

Pli

168

PROFESSOR CONANT.

'* You have paid so many eloquent tributes to tliese
people at home," said Lord Bolton ; " have defended
them so bravely in former years when they were
attacked ; have shown such trust in their free institu-
tions, and faith in their ability to maintain them, that
you have contributed not a little to the enviable repu-
tation which America bears among the European
masses, and these people honor themselves by the
honor they are to confer upon you."

" That is what I tell my father," said Tom, " but he
is so modest, and laughs at the idea of a single man
having been able to do anything toward earning the
gratitude of a foreign country."

" I have made some charming acquaintances here and
renewed some old ones," observed the Professor. "The
great kindness I have received, so far, makes me feel that
I have fallen among a nation of friends. But I have a
letter from your aunt ; would you like to read it ?

Tom was greatly puzzled by its mysteries."

"You are a jolly old fraud, Kobert," said Tom, "witli
your mysterious children and charities. Why did not
you and mother tell me about that infant when wo were

a grown-up infant at

at Brighton ? "

"You were interested in
Brighton, if I remember."

" But one does not like to be kept in the dark."
" Well, you know it all now ; " said the i'rofessor,
" and it is too late to make amends ; " and he handed
Holt Mrs. Conant's letter. It was a kindly and affect-
ionate epistle, full of social and domestic news. It con-
tained tender messages to Tom, to whom she promised
to write in a day or two, and then Robert's eye rested
on the following :— " Tell Itobert Holt, with my love,

''BE LUYNE8 HONORED IN DEATH.'

169

that liis child lias been tenderly nursed and is well, but
a strange thing happened to-day ; a rrenchman, who
says lie is from Canada, called at Bobcat's house this
morning while I was there, and presented a scrawl in
pencil, purporting to be from Robert on ship board.
It was evidently in his hand-writing, bidding us let the
stranger see the child, and deliver it to him, if he recog-
nized and claimed it. The stranger declared that the
child belonged to Maurice De Luynes, a gentleman of
quality residing in Quebec, v/ho was with his wife on
board the Alaric with you all going out. He pretended
that he had boarded your ship at sea, and had taken
his orders from the father of the infant and from Eobert.
It seemed an improbable story, but he recognized the
child and claimed her. The iiote might have been
forged ; why had not Robert sent me some token ? Was
it usual for vessels to lie alongside to allow passengers
to go on board? And yet the young man seemed a
gentleman, and if he demanded the child, what had I
to oppose to Robert's order, which I must admit seemed
to be genuine? I thought of cabling you, but there
might be delays, and when I appealed to friends here
they were unable to advise me. The child, moreover,
almost seemed to recognize the stranger, and the like-
ness he had brought was perfect. Nevertheless, I
was irrosolut ■, and my dreams were disturbed. How
d'll I know tne motive which might prompt others in
seeking to obtain possession of the poor little one ? It
might be another abduction ; of course, the nurse
wouhl go with it, but what do I know about her? "Well,
1 adopted the only course that seemed open to me. I
gave up the child, but I will send our good old servant,

John, on a confidential mission, with instruc tions to

***

ii|

"^i jiaaiiM I

9ii|

170

PROFESSOR CONANT.

keep watcli of the little one, till he knows it is safely
delivered. Of course, he must go in disguise ; neither
the nurse nor the stranger must know it. Heigho ! it
has been a weary business ; I dreaded to part with the
little thing, though I do believe it is all right ; but I
shall send John as a precaution."

" Strange, I didn't see John," said Robert, looking
up, to find in his abstraction, that ever\ body had left
the room without his noticcc

iiS>ei.iAi.^&;M^

:^LiJft:

CHAPTER XYI.

THE FLAGS BLEND WITH GRACEFUL HARMONY.

Meantime, the visit of Prof. Alexander Conant, M.P.,
of England, was exciting wide attention and universal
sympathy throughout the States. The newspapers
were recalling how he championed the slave in former
years, and upheld the cause ot the North during the
war, when friends were more needed and scarcer than
now ; and busy men, everywhere, seemed disposed to
spend a day with an Englishman who had defended
tlieir country when she wanted aid, and to raise a
national cheer for him. Letters of congratulation from
leading public men, and invitations to visit various parts
of the country, daily poured in upon him. These,
owing to the shortness of his visit, he could not accept ;
but he responded to all alike in a tone of courtesy, and
liis work was expedited by Tom's ready assistance.
The day was approaching for the reception in New
York, and a leading "Western journal thus spoke of it : —

"In a trying hour aristocratic Europe believed that
tlie time had come to compass the destruction of this
Republic. It was ruled, they thought, by the * scum
of the earth,' and was a bad example to the * scum '
of their parts of it. "What cared they for the blood of
brothers to be poured out like water in the conflict they
prayed for? France, led by one despot, and aided by

■^^J^-

172

PROFESSOR CONANT.

iBBn

others, planted a hostile power on our borders to harry
us, and the ruling classes of England, our own kin,
gloated over our desperate situation, and bullied and
threatened us. We knew we were the masters in our
legitimate fight, but we could not hope to over-
come the world in arms against us. Then it was we
found the truth of the assertion of a great man, tliat
there are two Englands ; our friends then came to the
surface, c.s, misled by our enemies, our mother was
about to declare cruel war against us. There was a
man in England whose teachings contributed to thwart
these machinations. He was Alexander Conant, then
an Oxford Professor, and now a leading member of the
British Parliament. His burning eloquence, which
marked him for obloquy at the time, has since won him
a foremost place in the House of Commons of England ;
and after all these years, his last great speech, which
the other day electrified England, and challenged the
admiration alike of friend and foe in that country, was
marked by an eloquent apostrophe, full of sympathy
and good-will to us and our country.

" Alexander Conant came to New York, the other day,
without parade or ostentation ; he is merely seeking
rest, after the pressing work of a trying session. Ameri-
cans! let us make him at home on this side of the
water ; let us open our hearts to this great scholar,
philanthropist and statesman, and let us show him that
he has not hoped for democracy in vain."

A leading city morning journal after reciting Prot
Conant's friendly services to "this country," added:
"It may be that we have given too much occasion
for the want of confidence which certain classes in |
Europe have felt for us. Could we present, for ex-

mE FLAGS BLEND WITH GRACEFUL HARMONY. 173

liarry
n kin,
ed and
in our

over-
ivas "we
in, that
3 to the
ler was
•e was a
I thwart
,nt, then
r of the
, which _
won him
England;
•li, which
inged the

itry, was
sympathy

kher day,

seeking

Ameri-

le of the

scholar,

liim that

mg Prot
added:
occasion !
3lasse3 in I
it, for Pi" '

ample, the great American city of New York as
model of self-government? The frauds we denounce,
sometimes justly and sometimes with wild exaggera-
tions, would these inspire foreigners with confidence
and respect ? They can know us only by what they see
and hear, and perhaps our press has not been altogether
blameless. Among ourselves, we know that these
spots are only excrescences, and that they do not
really endanger, though they embarrass, our Bepublican
system. But when men like Prof. Conant are willing
to study and understand us, and for the sake of the
masses, who generally so much profit by these labors,
trust us to the end, what attention too great, or what
honor too pronounced, can ve render them? "

There was, of course, some journalistic dissent to the
strain of eulogy generally indulged in, for there are
always two currents of opinion ; and excellent Irish
friends of America doubted whether she could afford
to forget that Englishmen were her traditional ene-
mies. But the tide was too strong, and the malcon-
tents subsided.

On the evening of the reception, the great hall was
ablaze with illuminations, and the walls were profusely
decorated. The dais, upon which the guest of the even-
ing was to be welcomed, was ornamented with flowers,
and tropical plants, and overhead the Stars and Stripes
and the Union Jack blended with graceful harmony.

When Professor Conant entered, the great multitude
rose as one man, and he was greeted with enthusiastic
cheers. An eloquent address was presented to him,
through the ministry of a distinguished committee. It
recited his rela,tions to science and to literature, and his
eminent services to freedom. It acknowledged the obli-

w ' Ki. ii t. i n ii imi i tm

174

PROFESSOR CONANT.

-Hi

gations and the admiration of America, and proffered
him a hearty and universal welcome. The address was
supported by able speeches, full of compliment, from
eminent men, and when finally the Professor rose to
reply, the cheers were renewed and the ovation was
magnificent.

" Ladies and gentlemen," he modestly began, " ten
years ago I paid a quiet visit to your great country, be-
lieving then, as I believe now, that its organization was
an incalculable benefit to mankind ; and I can see how
the institutions of my country, transplanted here and
tended and cultured by my own race, have multiplied
and improved under altered conditions, and become
indigenous in a fruitful soil. Englishmen can never be
indifferent observers of what goes on in America. They
have made some successful experiments as promoters of
constitutional liberty, but good men among them had
been cautious and dreaded the distribution of power
among the people, whom they loved, but dared not
trust ; and you Americans might have thrown free Eng-
land back a hundred years if you had proved un-
worthy to play the role of freedom. As it is, you have
not wholly met with success, but you have surpassed
the attempts of all ages to confer freedom upon tbo
people, and encourage industry and thrift. As com-
pared with other people, it may be eaid that you c
not make the country, nor create ail the conditions of I
its marvellous development ; but it will be sufficient for
you, as a people, to establish that you have loyally im-
proved your opportunities. You had from the first a|
great problem to solve. Could the people govern. |
And no doubt your vast and rapid, and shall I add, uc-j
expected growth, had multiplied obstacles and createdf

THE FLAGS BLEND WITH GRACEFUL UARMONT. 175

)£fered
ss was
t, from
rose to
m was

1, "ten

try, be-

ion was

see liow

Lcre and

altiplied
become

never be

ca. Tbey

meters oi

hem bad

of power

lared not

free Eng-

•oved nn-
you bave

jsurpassed

iipor. tbe

As com-

,t you dill

editions oi I

[fficientfoi^l

Loyally bn-
the first »j
^e govern .'I
Iadd,yii'l
nd created!

dangers, which the enemies of your political system
wore not slow to exaggerate. You might be all right
enough in peace, they admitted ; but what of peril ? If
ibe national life were in danger, who would care for or
protect it ? How could you expect a rabble to submit
to restraints and self-sacrifice ? It was a fair question,
and your friends in Europe hoped that you would
answer it well. In all time it had been said we might
trust the masses with anything but self-government;
and the privileged classes were always willing, if they
did not usurp the right of government, to undertake it.
There was, moreover, a deep blot on your system, which
nobody could justify. Claiming that all men were free
and equal, you held some of them in bondage with the
sanction of your laws and the concurrence of your
people ; you ostracised the black man and you hunted
the slave. At first, we in Europe tried to be your
apologists. * They inherited the system,' we said, ' they
are not responsible.* But for a long time we were em-
barrassed by the fact that you took to it kindly. When
Te wanted reform, to extend the franchise, and thus
to gain more power for the people in England, our
enemies and yours said to us, ' Look at America, which
you imitate, with her social color-lines and her blood-
hounds on the track of her slaves ! ' What could we
answer beyond expressing our hopes? But a little
later, *with malice toward none, rmd charity toward
all,' you did the great work of your national life ; you
emancipated your slaves ! I never saw Mr. Lincoln,
except in my dreams, but by that one act he won im-
ciortality. Whatever his motive, ihe fact remains.
ihen it was that you, as a people, showed how you could
fight to maintain your liberties and your nationality ;

176

PROFESSOR CONANT,

and then the world, rather tardily, perhaps, recognized
you as a brave and independent nation. But there
were more unprecedented events still in this succession
of marvels ; the North and the South, shaking hands
over the bloody chasm ; the leaders of the great Rebel-
lion engaging unmolested in ordinary pursuits, and
under the very government they plotted to ruin ; the
vast armies, on both sides, peace having been restored,
returning voluntarily to the farms, the mills, the mines,
and the work-shops of the country. And this last fol-
lows from the universal franchise you have adopted.
There should be no mercenaries where all are mas-
ters, and where each personally loses or gains, as it
goes ill or well with the country. If the people of
America will recognize this in their administration of
affairs, and continue true to the precepts of their great
teachers, mankind will be the gainers, and the masses
of Europe, will ere long become in their own homes,
what the Americans are to-dav— the free citizens of a
free country."

He deprecated great individual wealth and luxury, as
carrying with them corresponding poverty and squalor,
and besought the people never to forget this, when
advised by kindly people in his own country or in
theirs, to abandon simplicity and organize a govern-
ment of aristocratic landlords and hereditary senators,
with all which that change would imply. Ho adjurnl
the great British and American people to love each
other. In the main, they were the same stock, and,
at any rate, they owed the same fealties to freedom;
and, barring petty rivalries, their interests were the
same in their relations to the world. Twice they
had been at war, and a third and more terrible conflict

THE FLAGS BLEND WITH GRACEFUL HARMONY. I77

had been averted only by the alternative of arbitration.
He hoped the alternative would be repeated, and when-
ever national disputes threatened, that arbitration
would be the result. Ho continued, in words which wo
cannot repeat, and with an eloquence wo cannot do-
scribe, to express his confidence in American Repub-
lican progress. He wanted America to stand side by
side with England, among the foremost nations who
were displaying tho torch-light of liberty to tho world ;
and, thanking them all, he invoked the blessing of God
upon the two kindred nations, mother and child, de-
siring that they might go on in unity, and multiply the
advantages which each had conferred upon tho world.

There was renewed enthusiasm when tho speaker
took his seat, and a large number of ladies and gentle-
men were presented to him. There was room for only
casual, though kindly words, and at length the great
throng moved slowly into an adjoining hall, where a
splendid collation had been prepared. Tho Professor's
friends were chiefly in the body of the hall ; Lord Les-
ter had thought better of coming down, and Lord Bol-
ton, for reasons about which tho public speculated,
tliough we can understand them, declined a conspicuous
place. The young men, as the chairman had said,
would soon be all right ; once presented to two or three
ladies, they would swim without help, or, as Fred sug-
gested, "like ducks in deep water." The latter young
gentluman had made the most of his time in New York ;
lie seemed to know everybody, which was not difficult,
as he was well accredited, being the son of Sir John
Cuthbert, Baronet, as well as a favorite member of tho
Professor's party.

"I have been telling these gentlemen," he said, nod-

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WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580

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178

PROFESSOR CONANT.

ding to Tom and Holt, and addressing a pretty bru-
nette, the daughter of a late Secretary of State, " that I
want to become an American citizen. I suppose there
may have been no end of reasons for it, these hundred
years back, but the Professor's speech puts us in mind,
that it is the thing to do ; first of all, you govern your-
self ; then you do it with so much personal credit to
yourself; you do honor to your country, and your
country does honor to you ; and all the world looks ou
and applauds. And when you say, ' Eomanus siim,' the
effect is terrific."

" Don't be facetious at our expense," said the young
lady; " we might refuse you the freedom of the city."

"I was never more serious," said Fred; "and be-
sides you are not an American citizen."

"I might be that sooner than you expect," she re-
torted, " when women get their rights ; and I am strong-
minded enough to defend Prof. Conant any time."

"Oh, I didn't attack the Professor," said Fred ; "I
only orated a little about citizenship."

" Is ' orated ' good English?" she asked, mischiev- I Douj
ously. ■ ire

"Perhaps nothing English is good," he replied
"Can't I celebrate my new allegiance by coining a
word? Has such a thing never been done here he-
fore ? "

" May be you think it is the fashion," she interrupted.
" Now, tell me, Mr. Cuthbert, do Englishmen ever ■ %^
boast?" ■ going

"Never." ■ Fi

" Hardly ever ? " ■^^aoi

"To tell the truth, they haven't much chance," said ■Kobert
Fred. " England is an effete old monarchy, and she is |He har

clialt
oar ti-]

joined I
Doise

THE FLAGS BLEND WITH GRACEFUL HARMONY. I79

y bru-
tliat I
3 there
Lundred
n mind,
L'li your-
:redit to
ttd your
looks on
su?]?,' the

,lie yonng
e city.
« and he-

c," she re-
0,m strong-

me.
Tred ; "1

mischieT-

le replied
coining a
e here he-
Interrupted,
imeu ever

»♦

lance
and shew

outshone by her eldest daughter. An Englishman can't
boast much of his titles, because they are about to abol-
ish the House of Lords ; nor of his fortune, because his
cousins over here outstrip him. John Bull never did
boast of his younger sons like me, but they say the
lower stratum is coming to the surface, and that may
afford a chance to utilize waste material ; so I think,
Miss Douglas, we shall have to conclude that English-
men never boast except of their relations over here,
and these are sometimes the wife's relations, asArtemua
Ward used to call them."

"Mothers-in-law, for instance," said Miss Douglas,
"and he would ' sacrifice ' them."

" Artemus only spoke of sacrifice to the Juggernaut
of war ; our intentions are peaceable. But I have been
reading, and I find the Americans are not always good
historians. For instance, they were whipped at Bunker
Hill, but Boston has celebrated the anniversary of that
figlit for a victory ever since."

" Oh, our people did not escape reverses," said Miss
Douglas, with a laugh. " TVe got along very well, but
we lost a beautiful and highly cultivated island with
clialk cliffs, that would have been part of our booty if
our triumphs had been complete."

"That is no doubt a pleasure to come," Fred re-
joined ; " but do let us move away from the band, the
noise is deafening."

They were soon lost in the crowd, Tom and Robert
going off in another direction.

Five minutes later Tom and his friend encountered
plr.Koberts walking arm in arm with Lord Bolton ; Mrs.
IRoberts was convalescent and had gone to "Washington.
[He had come to the entertainment expecting to see

BHSffi '

180

PROFESSOR CONANT,

without being seen, but his Lordship's quick eye
detected him, and after all why should he not seek dis-
traction in this way ?

" You have seen a New York gathering of the best
people," said Koberts. " I do not mean the richest,
though great wealth is represented here ; but people
of culture and reunement, such people as would nat-
urally be attracted by a great reputation like that of
Prof. Conant. I presume, you will have observed little
of the vulgar parade and over-dressing which some of
our critics attribute to American society. The people
you see here, so far as they are traditional New Yorkers,
are chiefly descended from old Dutch and English
families, added to that larger class of men who came
here from New England in search of fortune, imbued
with that firm and masculine self-reliance, and devo-
tion to the old political ideas, born of New England
training. Indeed, the western part of this State has
been almost wholly settled from New England. The
English vastly preponderate in the interior, but the
city population is a medley of races, and its political
and city government is altogether in the hands of men
who were but lately foreigners."

" I suppose you have still a good many of the old
Knickerbocker families," observed Holt.

" Well, yes ; we have old families like the Schuylers i
and Van Rensselaers. They were landlords, and main-
tained a local jurisdiction. Their descendants may boj
found in New York society to this day, but I do notj
think they call themselves ' Knickerbockers.' A Knick-
erbocker was originally a cracker-baker ; that is thej
literal signification of the word, I believe ; and hofj
"Washington Irving wove his fancies about it, and

TUE FLAGS BLEND WITH GRACEFUL HARMONY. \%X

ick eye
eek dis-

lie best
ricliest,
t people
»uld nat-
:e that of
■ved little
L some of
he people
V Yorkers,
d Englisli
wlio came
ae, imbued
and devo-
;w England
State lias
rland. The
lor, hut the
Its political
Lnds of men

of the old

[e
Is,

its

Schuyle
and main-

mts may
but I do

be
not

A KnicV

that is

and hot

it, and

the wide world accept them, has always been a mystery
to me."

" AVell, that's new to me," said Tom, " and destroys
half a dozen romances that have found a lodgment in
my brain."

" But, can you swear to that ? " inquired Lord Bol-
ton. "I have always understood that the old Dutclt
families accepted this Knickerbocker distinction."

"You may be right," replied the other; "but a
'Knickerbocker' was a 'cracker-baker' all the same.
This is of consequence, however, only for the sake of
accuracy. In spite of the old families the social ' gates
are ajar,' and men, who sprang from the toiling masses,
are daily gliding through into the charmed circle."

"That is as it should be," remarked Robert. " Why
sliould social distinctions be monopolized by an heredi-
tary class ? "

"But will they be desirable distinctions," observed
Tom, " if they grow cheap ? "

" Ah ! that's an old question," rejoined Roberts ; " but
I see the Professor is moving away, and I must follow
him, as I wish to whisper a word in his ear."

An hour later, the great hall was deserted. The
morning journals would announce that the reception to
Prof. Conant had been a splendid success. Holt had
received letters from Miss Lytton, which were merely
a pathetic diary of what occurred from day to day in
Carlotta's rooms, with an added account of how the
j child grew and prospered. It had not then been re-
I cognized by its mother, though she had sometimes
noticed and petted it. The name of little Ethel seemed
[to awaken no interest in lie.r, and she always repulsed
[friends by saying, " No, it is not Ethel, she has gone with

182

PROFESSOR COMANT,

Maurice to bring his mother." The doctor saw hope-
ful signs of restoration. Sometimes she seemed to
falter and hesitate, as if her intellect flickered. But
these symptoms were succeeded by a return of the
mental paralysis.

CHAPTER XVn.

THE JESUIT AND THE OEANGEMAN.

Next morning, Holt received a telegram from Miss
Lytton, with this startling intelligence : " Child badly
burned ; Carlotta conscious, but prostrate ; calls con-
stantly for you." Without loss of time. Holt despatched
the following answer : " "Will go to you by next train."

*' May I go with you. Holt ? " inquired Lord Bolton
after Itobert had explained the nature of these communi-
cations ; and it was agreed that both should return
together.

They took up quarters at a hotel in Quebec, on their
arrival, but hurried at the earliest moment to the Do
Luynes's, where they found Gustave and Miss Lytton
waiting for them.

" She is conscious and knows all," was Miss Lytton's
greeting ; " but the child's recovery does not compensate
for the loss of poor Maurice. Tuesday night little
Ethel was in Carlotta's room and for the moment they
were alone. Playing about the grate, the child's
clothes caught fire, and her screams roused the mother,
who rushed toward her, and, wrapping her shawl about
the little one, extinguished the flames in a most
rational manner, but the dear little thing was badly
burnt. Its cries seemed to distress Carlotta, whom we
found pacing the room with it in her arms, and striv-

■;.lvl

184

PROFESSOR CONANT.

ing to sootlie it. She helped to dress its wounds and
to nurse it, and was often noticed gazing into its eyes
with an interested and inquiring look. Presently, she
said, ' It is little Ethel ; but where is Maurice ? Oh
heavens ! ' she screamed, ' I remember it all now.' And
with these words she fainted. '

" Carlotta was soon restored, however, but suflfered
great prostration ; she seemed conscious, and I thought
she realized everything. She moaned for Maurice and
called urgently for you. That was the state of things
when I telegraphed. The child is better, and Carlotta
seems conscious. I shall notify her of your presence,
and I hope your visit will strengthen her."

Eeturning shortly. Miss Lytton said, " My sister is
eager to see you."

The interview was short but affecting. Why should
we recite what was said by the pallid sufferer, or expose
to the curious gaze the wailings of a broken heart ?

What could Holt say? Words could not comfort
her ; he bade her be strong for her child's sake, and
for the sake of friends who loved her. He spoke of
trust in God, to whom Maurice had gone, but she
answered, " No, it was too cruel ; God could not have
taken him. Why should he be snatched from me, while
so many less worthy are left ? "

" God knows best," observed Holt ; " not a sparrow
falls to the ground without His notice."

" If I could pray ! " she said sadly. " But how can I
return thanks when my brain reels, and my heart is
broken?"

" Ask for help," Robert replied soothingly.

" Oh ! I need help, and it is for that I sent for you,
who had bcQu with us in the last days we spent together."

THE JESUIT AND THE ORANGEMAN.

185

Carlotta seemed exhausted and fell into a gentle
sleep, and Holt noiselessly left the room and found her
sister at the door.

" She sleeps," he said ; " I shall return if I am
needed." He found Lord Bolton in earnest conversa-
tion with Gustave. They were going over the history
of the De Luynes family.

"lu most countries my cousin would have had a
career," said Gustave, "but here we all have to bow
the knee to Baal. He commenced his political career
by refusing to accept clerical support, and was crushed
by clerical animosity. It was never the aim of the
clergy to defend the Church, which neither Maurice nor
his father assailed ; on the contrary, they were its most
generous patrons and defenders. The clergy were madly
allied to one party, which they knew they could control,
and the principles of Maurice led him to affiliate with
another. The Church, of which he was as true a son as
any of them, had fairly nothing to do with the con-
troversy. His name was denounced, and it pleased them
to magnify one of her children at the expense of another.
History will put us right, but we can expect little from
the present generation. Generally, the press is an agency
of freedom, but these men can forbid their people to read
a certain newspaper ; that crushes it, of course. There
is a Liberal press, but on these topics it must be silent.
They are only discussed in the by-ways, and with bated
breath. The English papers are as prudent as the French,
and the politicians are still more careful ; so that nobody
ever hears of this great abuse which goes on under the
very eyes of liberty, and nobody dares to speak
about it. You will meet these men, and they will be
models of politeness and toleration ; but independence of

186

PROFESSOR CONANT.

j thought among their own people, there is none. They
i assume to think and act for all, and in the namo
of religion endeavor to crush every obstacle which may
I oppose them. The men who enjoy their confidence
) in Parliament are merely their overseers. You would
I think the press, the great champion of those who
think for themselves, would aid us, but upon all these
topics the press is muzzled. Now and then some
adventurous journal makes a dash, but the people are
forbidden to read it, and, after a bitter experience, it
collapses. There is a good deal of independent criticism
in secluded nooks, but the press of Quebec, French and
English, is too prudent ' to beard the lion in his deu,'
and as for the politicians, bless your soul ! if there have
been a few who took the risk, they have been crushed
like poor Maurice of unhappy memory. There is no
/ hope of public opinion, left to itself, but our people are
a minority, and the other provinces may awaken to the
danger. I would rather we could seek another remedy,
but I believe the madness of the hour will be checked
from Eome, and that the Propaganda will decree that
our priests shall abstain from partisan politics. If that
happens, they will, at least, profess to obey ; but I know
them well, and they will be more loyal to the Pope, pro-
claiming the programme, than to the Pope, cultivating
the freedom of political opinions for all. Lower Canada
is a little corner of the world, but she is the paradise of
the reactionaries. What is possible among her simple
and uninstructed people, will be attempted in every
comer of North America. To study our troubles is to
be warned in time. The policy pursued among us is
faintly resisted by the best instructed and more liberal
among the clergy, but they are powerless. The tra-

They
I namo
ch may
ifidenco

I would
se wlio

II these
n some
ople are
ience, it
3riticism
mch and
his den,'
lere have
L crushed
ero is no
leople are
;eu to the

remedy,
checked
cree that
If that
at I know
'ope,pro-
ultivating
Canada
■aradise of
ler simple
in every
ibles is to
ong us 19
»re liberal
The tra-

THE JESUIT AND THE ORANOEMAN. "l87

ditions of our good old priesthood are despised and for-
gotten, and the power of the cures, which was intended
to lead the people aright in spiritual matters, is some-
times degraded to the lowest work of the most merce-
nary politicians. The path of our public life is strewn
with the carcasses of those who have striven to resist,
and the readiest tools of this uncatholic slaughter are
the men of your race among us."

" How bitterly they all seem to feel this clerical in-
terference," remarked Holt after Gustave had retired.

"No doubt it is a groat power," said Lord Bolton.
"One wonders would they ..ve resented it as much if
it had always been exercised in their favor ; in great
emergencies the Church always appeals to the loyalty
of the people."

"Ah! but that is when questions which affect
the interest of the Church are concerned," observed
Robert.

" Do you think that when no great question was in-
volved, Cardinal Manning would encourage his people
to interfere in an election, simply because one of his
priests had preferences for one side or the other? "

" Oh ! I don't know," rejoined Lord Bolton, " and I
can't bother to think about it ; yet it is a pity if the
priests carry the consciences of their people in their
pockets. But what can we do when the people want to
have it so ? As to our own race here, politicians have
not much conscience, and so, I suppose, not feeling
much interest, they ally themselves with the stronger
side."

" Yes," said Kobert, " that's the view of the practical
politician ; but if it goes to the extent I am told
it does, of making the Jesuit and the Orangeman

)

188

PROFESSOR CONANT,

brothers-in-arms, it does not suggest anything very
noble to my mind."

Shortly dropping this conversation, Robert explained
to Lord Bolton the touching interview he had had with
Carlotta, and the ground of his hope for mother and
child.

" We cannot remain long," Robert said to Miss Lyt-
ton in the course of the day, " on account of other en-
gagements. I would not leave Madame De Luynes
so long as I could cheer her ; but, do you know, I fear
my presence summons sad thoughts to her mind, and
that she will thrive better among those who have not
witnessed her great bereavement."

But presently Carlotta sent for him again, and lie
found her more composed and self-reliant.

" You did mo good this morning, my dear friend,"
she said, "but I must not detain you here. I see it all
now, and though I have many friends, I must tread my
desolate path alone. At first, in my helplessness, I in-
voluntarily turned to you who had been near to us and
were my husband's last friend. Now I must release
you, and ask pardon for the trouble I have given in ask-
ing you to come hither." Extending her hand, she
added, "You interested my husband, you saved my
child ; what recompense can I oflfer ? "

"I did little at best," replied Robert, "but I did
nothing for reward. To feel that I was the friend of
Maurice De Luynes, or that I could perform the least
service to his widow and child, would be a satisfaction
to me more than words could express. If I can serve
you, or give you strength at any moment, you have but
to command me, and my delay will be measured only by
the distance I have to travel."

THE JESUIT AND THE ORANGEMAN.

189

Later in the day she received Lord Bolton, and was
moro calm and self-possessed than they expected.
Robert spent much of his time with the child, who
evinced a fondness for him, and a day or two after,
with many tender adieux, he and Lord Bolton to^k
their leave.

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE PROFESSOR VISITS BOSTON.

One morning Dr. Elmwood called on the Professor
at his lodgings in New York. He had just returned
from Boston, where he left Miss Winthrop well, but
weary with her efforts to reconcile George to his fate.
At first he had been incorsolable, but they had thought
it better noc to disguise anytxiing from him, and had
expressed their belief that poor Miss Roberts had not
been indifferent to Lord Bolton's attentions. They told
him \irhat they knew, and what they surmised, which
amounted to this, that Miss Roberts had been loyal to
her engagement with George, but had not been sure of
her affection, and that had she lived, she might have
asked him to release her altogether. As the story was
told him, there was left no cause for resentment ; hence
he felt that his mourning was more for a beautiful
wom.an and a dear friend than for her whom he was
shortly to marry. As his thoughts became more rational,
he felt like reproving himself for indulging in any vio-
lent grief. He understood that Miss Roberts had dis-
couraged Lord Bolton's suit because she was pledged
to himself, and not because it was disagreeable to her.
"She was a noble girl," he would say. "Our engage-
ment was so sudden that she did not know her own heart.
I have nothing to forgive, but it would have been dread-
ful to have found out our mistake when it was too late."

T"^

THE PROFESSOR VISITS BOSTON.

191

His sister was full of kind words for the memory of
the lost one, and he clung to her more than ever.

The Doctor had explained all this to the Professor,
and had politely expressed satisfaction with the recep-
tion accorded him. '* I knew there would be enthusi-
asm," he said, " the moment it was known you had set
foot upon our soil. My brother Horace will ask you
to spend a few days with him in Boston, and you will
find an equally kind, though somewhat different, wel-
come. Boston is more distinctively an American city
than New York. It is one of the old landmarks in our
history, and a great centre of Eepublican thrift and re-
finement. My brother is an eminent lawyer, but he is
a statesman and a man of letters as well. He is eager
for your expected visit ; I hope Tom will go with you,
and I shall try to drop down while you are there."

"Your brother is very kind," said the Professor,
" and we must go. I want to make his acquaintance
and to see Miss Winthrop ; besides, a visit to America,
which does not include Boston, would be like the play
of Hamlet with Hamlet left out."

They spoke of New York, of its marvellous growth
aud ever-increasing facilities, as one of the wonders of
the world. " She is the mistress of our commerce,"
said Dr. Elmwood, " the centre of our wealth, and her
activities are an unfailing index in denoting the expan-
sion or decline of the' national prosperity. Here are
found representatives of every race and creed which
our diversified immigration confides to us. Wealth and
squalor, education and ignorance, and all the extremes
of the overburdened and strained social conditions of
the countries from which our immigrants come, are to
be found here ; but the great multitude walk the peace-

w^m

192

PROFESSOR CONANT.

ful paths of industry, and quietly reap their legitimate
reward."

That morning, in Boston, Miss Winthrop received a
letter from Miss Lytton; it was dated Quebec, and
was an answer to a note of inquiry about Madame De
Luynes. It told her all we know of Carlotta De Luynes,
and of the recovery and condition of the child. It
drew a sad picture of the life they had led at the De
Luynes mansion, which was now brightened by Car-
lotta's convalescence, and by hope of her early recovery.
It contained a photograph and thus explained the en-
closure : " Something Carlotta said to me this morning
made me wonder could her friend Miss Winthrop, of
whom she speaks so lovingly, have been the little Aggie
Winthrop, whom I knew and loved at Madame Char-
land's school, on Beacon Street. Pardon the photo-
graph, which is sent, if indeed you are the game, to
help your memory in recognizing your old friend. I do
not think I am mistaken. I remember the honest gray
eyes so well ; they always looked lovingly into mine,
and what romantic stories you used to tell me about
your home, and about your big brother who came for
you every Saturday ! I can scarcely tell you how I
cling to this theory, which would make Miss Winthrop
the accidental friend of my poor sister, my own sweet
little Aggie Winthrop of the old days." The letter con-
tinued, " My sister speaks often of you ; she seems al-
ways reaching out to those who were with her in the
last days of her poor husband. Could you not come
and see us ? If you are, as I believe, my little Agnes,
accept a kiss, and my imperative order to come hero
at once."

" Dear girl," said Miss Winthrop, "I had lost sight

THE PROFESSOR VISITS BOSTON.

193

imate

Lved a

3, and

ne De

luynes,

Id. It

the De

>y Car-

covery.

the en-

norning

lirop, of

le Aggie

e Cliar-

5 plioto-

same, to

d. I do

lest gray

|to mine,
le ahout
came for

ju liowl
^'inthrcp
n sweet
itter con-
leems al-
ter in tlie
Inot come
B Agnes,
lome hero

lost si|

of you, but I have not forgotten to love you, for your
kindness to me in those old school days. The likeness
is perfect, though the face is a little older. It is more
like Madame De Luynes. I always thought she re-
minded me of some one ; I will go to them both for a
day, and George shall ta"\t; me."
The young man heard the story.
" Will you come, George ? " said his sister.
"I am not invited, little one," Le replied.
"Trust me for a welcome ; " and they went to Quebec
together. Miss Winthrop was received warmly by her
friend, and George was pleased with her beauty and
grace, and particularly with the cordial greeting. There
is this compensation for the stricken in heart, that grief
yields to reaction ; were it not so, the thread would
break under a constant tension. The three chatted
pleasantly of old times ; even Carlotta received them
with a smile, and seemed for the moment to forget her
own great sorrow.

George and Ethel compared notes, and remembered
liaving met before, and as the day advanced they all
seemed like a family reunited. Thus, sometimes, even
in grief, we tread lightly over tlie green sod that presses
our loved ones, and take in exhilaration and strength
irom the warm earth and fresh breeze.

In the afternoon Miss Winthrop remained with Car-
lotta, and George and Ethel drove out round the city.
Slie showed him where Montgomery fell, and the castle
ou the " heights," and told him something of its classic
liistory. They saw the Plains of Abraham, where
^olfo and Montcalm won immortality, and the falls of
MoDtmorenci, distinguished for their height and vol-
ume. The frozen spray of these waters, she told him,

«i

194

PROFESSOR CONANT.

formed a huge cone of ice in winter, which was cov-
ered with snow, and down whose precipitous sides
pleasure seekers were fond of making swift, but peril-
ous voyages. At its base, she had known large rooms
to be skilfully cut out, with furniture exquisitely carved
in ice. There was a bar, with a counter ornamented
with bottles and glasses ; there were saloons furnished
with sofas, chairs and tables, and figures of men and
women grouped, as if in conversation, and liveried serv-
ants, all cut and carved from solid ice with marvellous
skill.

"The tale would seem incredible," said George,
" if one heard it in any ordinary way. How much
one loses when one travels without an intelligent
guide."

" But the story must be at least founded on facts,
for I have seen all myself, and more than I have de-
scribed to you, except the figures of men and women,
and these would not be more difficult than the rest."
They had a long drive home, but the way was beuuti-
ful, along the high ground overlooking the great river
and the old city. They talked pleasantly together, as if
neither had seen trouble, and as if they were old friends
who had come together after a long separation.

" I have to thank you for a very pleasant afternoon,"
he said, as they turned in at the gate of the De Luynes
mansion.

" The pleasure has been mutual," replied Ethel ; "I
suppose I shall condemn myself, by-and bye, for having
escaped from the dark cloud into the pleasant world
again."

" You ought not," George answered ; " in great be-
reavements those who go first are perhaps most fortu-

TUE PROFESSOR VISITS BOSTON.

195

5 cov-

sides

peril-
Tooms
carved
nented
:iiislied
en and
)d serv-
L'vellous

George,
w mucli
itelligent

on iacts,
have de-
women,
he rest."
,s beauti-
eat river
ther, as ii
,ld friends

LI*

Eternoon,
)Q Luynes

Itliel;"!
Ifor having
jant world

great d^*
lost fortu-

nate, but those who remain cannot always keep their
hearts in the grave, else mourning would be the busi-
ness of life ; and as everybody has been stricken, we
should all be Rachels refusing to be comforted." If
Miss Lytton had known the truth, she might have
thouglit he was taking comfort early, but as it was she
agreed with him and determined to cultivate, at least
a reasonable self-control.

"They seem more cheerful," thought Miss Winthrop,
as she welcomed them in the hall, ut she only asked,
had they enjoyed themselves, and declared that, strange
as it might seem, she, too, had spent a pleasant after-
noon. Carlotta had been in a calmer mood ; she had
caressed the child, and chatted cheerfully, and they
all expressed hopes that verged upon cheerfulness, as
if a black cloud had been lifted from the house. Little
Ethel was in gay spirits, which tended to dispel the
gloom. In the evening, Carlotta asked them to sing
some hymns ; they reminded her of Maurice, she said ;
and when they rendered the " Sweet by-and-bye," and
"Nearer my God to Thee," she melted into tears, and
spoke calmly of that night on the Alaric, and what she
called the heavenly enthusiasm that prevailed among
the passengers. It was a quiet, pleasant evening, and
[jave promise of restoration that unconsciously cheered
them all.

"We must go to-morrow," said Miss Winthrop.
Ethel persisted, and George thought it reasonable
that they should remain another day ; but Agnes
explained that her uncle expected friends, and it was
agreed that they should go the following night. Both
George and Miss Winthrop urged upon Miss Lytton
thr.t the whole family needed change, that is to say,

196

PROFESSOR CONANT.

Madame De Luynes, Miss Ethel, and " baby Ethel ;"
and they won a conditional promise of a visit later.

"Now that Madame De Luynes is so much im-
proved," said Agnes, " we should try to engage her at-
tention with new thoughts and new scenes ; our homo
in Boston will be quiet for some time after the Profes-
sor has left us, and you shall meet no one whom you do
not wish to see, and will be as completely at home as
you are here. Little Ethel shall have command of all
the pets, and you, poor, weary Etliel, shall be my es-
pecial care. Here, nobody will know where you have
gone, and there, nobody will know who you are ; and
the change will do you as much good as if it were alto-
gether fashionable and orthodox to go."

Carlotta bore up bravely as they took their leave,
and spoke almost cheerfully of returning their visit.
Miss Lytton, however, promised nothing, though she
said that the visit would be grateful to her, but she
must watch and wait a little. To Agnes she said the
visit had given them new life. Uncle Horace Winthrop
was not advanced in years, though he was a Senator,
and he was not worn by hard work, though he stood at
the head of the bar. He was a great student and led a
laborious life, but there was always a corner in his heart
for his friends and for any innocett recreation ; and the
wish of Agnes was law with him. He was proud of
George, who had inherited his gifts and his enormous
practice, and he was as much their confidant in all that
interested them as if he were of their own age. He was
a great scholar, and Massachusetts admired him ; a
great orator, and so she lent him her ear. It was fitting
that he should entertain Prof. Conant ; they were a dis-
tinsjuished host and a distinguished gUQst. The Pro-

THE PROFESSOR VISITS BOSTON.

197

lel ;"

[• leave,
[r visit.

gli siie

lUt sliB

laid tlie

[intlirop

ienator,

Istood at
id led a

lis heart
and tlie
iroud of

all tliat
He -was
him; a
.s fitting
sre a dis-
he Pro-

fessor and Tom were the guests of Mr. Winthrop, but
their friends took lodgings near by. Tlio first day was
spent in visiting the sights of the city, and in driving
about the suburbs, which are among the finest in the
world. The next night, Senator Winthrop was to give
a grand reception in honor of Prof. Conant, and the (iliie
of Boston were to be present. Modern Athens woukl
bo seen at her best that night. Her statesmen and
scholars, her poets and litterateurs^ would be well rep-
resented, in honor of England's foremost thinker — a
great orator, a rising statesman, and a good man.

Everybody, and especially George, was j^leased with
Capt. Tom Conant. He vi^as full of spirits, and dis-
played the greatest interest in and admiration for every-
thing American, so far as he had seen the country and
the people, and was thus accepted as a most liberal and
intelligent Britisher.

" Do you know," said Tom, in conversation with some
callers, " this visit of mine to New England is the reali-
zation of a long cherished dream ? In the early days,
the story of your people was so full of trial and tragedy ;
there was so much human nature in first fleeing from
persecution and then exercising it, such heroic sacrifice
of everything to principle, that one recalls with pride
the fact that one belongs to the same race. It may be a
question whether a modern softening of the severe and
rigid morality of those times has been really a blessing
to mankind. Be that as it may, the hardy, honest and
uncalculating devotion to principle of the early settlors,
makes one almost regret that he had not descended
from the Plymouth fathers."

" Nous avons change tout cela^^ said a voice near him.

"Well," said Tom, taking up the remark, " history

198

PROFESSOR CONANT.

changes, conditions alter, but principles are for all time.
You may restrict or enlarge their application, or modify
it in a hundred ways, but the people who have followed
the Puritans as teachers, must, indeed, have fallen, if
they have ceased to be independent and self-reliant, and
fail to put honesty of purpose before success in life."

" Ours is a comparatively short history, but it is in-
structive," said a city editor who was present, " and in
the main you interpret it aright ; but you do not allow
for the fact, which is growing every day more apparent,
that the people of New England are not all descended
from the Puritans."

" Then I sliould think those who are not would envy
those who are," remarked Tom.

" From envy, hatred and malice, and all uncharitablc-
ness, good Lord deliver us," said the Professor, coming
to Tom's relief.

" The population of America is so diversified, you
have so many classes in your broad country (I use the
word for convenience, for I know, constitutionally speak-
ing, you have no classes liere), and they have all in
their own way contributed so much to your prosperity,
that it would be invidious to discriminate ; yet it can-
not be denied that the Puritans displayed great quali-
ties, though others have done the same, and nobody
need be called upon to envy them."

" The descendants of the Puritans claim so much,"
observed the editor, " that they do not give others fair
play" ^ .

" It has been well said that a Puritan cannot be an
aristocrat, nor could he conceive of heaven as an aris-
tocracy," remarked Mr. Winthrop, epigrammatically.

" Yes," said Robert, " Green has that idea in his essay

THE PROFESSOR VISITS BOSTON.

199

on Paradise Lost. He says it is time God ruled all, but
He demanded obedience because He is pure goodness.
This is not our idea of the ground of imperial rule ;
Milton nowhere gives the Imperial title to the Almighty ;
He is the Almighty Father, the King of Heaven, but
never the Emperor. That title is reserved for Satan.
The heaven of Milton is a Republic under the dominion
of goodness. Satan rebelled because the Son was
placed over the angels, who were free and equal. Ab-
diel allows the equality and the freedom, but defends
the supremacy, the Son is the * Visible form of God,
and is at one with Him.' The only change is that now
through the creation of the Son, through God himself,
becoming as an angel, he has lifted the whole angelic
body into higher dignity. And of our dignity — 'How
provident He is, how far from thought to make us less,
bent rather to exalt our happy state under one Head
more near united.' History has given the Puritans a
high niche among those whom she makes famous in the
service of liberty, but they did not live in tolerant days ;
they prepared the way for freedom ratlier than con-
ferred it."

"Their influence is still great in New England,"
said the Journalist, " but I think even Mr. Winthrop
will admit that it is fading."

" I am sorry if I misapprehend," said Tom. *' I am
a stranger, but I thought New England was a Puritan
stronghold, and that though she did not applaud their
severities, of either doctrine or discipline, her institu-
tions were chiefly moulded after their teaching. Right
or wrong, I have been a great admirer of their history in
my own country, and I was prepared to admire it here."

" Oh, you are to a certain extent right," said the Edi-

illliiiPlllill

:ni

200

PROFESSOR CONANT.

tor, who was descended in a direct line from a neif^li*
bor and friend of Miles Standisli, " but wo must never
forget what we owe to Americans whose citizonsliip, if
more recent, has not been loss conspicuous."

The conversation now sought other topics; but at
lunch Tom, who was not altogether satisfied with \m
part in it, alluded to the incident, and his regret that
ho should have given matters a controversial turn.

" "What you said was true enough," said Mr. Win-
throp, " but one or two citizens of foreign descent were
present, and our friend Taylor of the * Press,' saw his
chance to pay them a compliment, and he took advan-
tage of the occasion."

" I said just what I thought," said Tom, bluntly.

" It is best to be guarded in mixed company," moral-
ized the Professor.

" It is not worth remembering," rejoined Mr. Win-
throp. " You expressed your opinion, Taylor improved
his chance, and the gentlemen of foreign descent will
vote for him."

" These gentlemen are becoming a great power with
us," said George. " The politicians pander to them and
they are very exacting. The streets are full of people
who seek opportunity to speak for and flatter these
gentlemen of foreign birth or descent; the Irish-
Americans, the French-Canadian-Americans, and other
Americans of promiscuous foreign stock — the Indians,
if they had votes, would be included — but the poor
descendants of the Puritans, and in general the real
Americans are growing silent about themselves, or are
struggling, like Tom Taylor, to win favor with the men
who are becoming their masters ! "

" Well, America owes a great deal to these people,"

TUE PROFESSOR VISITS BOSTON.

201

tly.
' moral-

observed tho Professor; "she invited them to her
shores, the poor, the halt and the lame, and promised
them employment and citizenship. You asked them to
come over and help you to develop and govern the
country. Most of them were needy and ignorant, and
had never been trained to govern themselves. 'The
mills of the gods grind slow.' They are hewing down
your forests, cultivating your farms, and building your
railroads. But you must wait for the full fruition.
Train their sons in your admirable schools, and the
second generation will be intelligent and patriotic
Americans."

" Many of them sneer at our schools ; they prefer
tho system they have cultivated for ages, one that has
made them what they are," said George. " At least
half a million of one foreign nationality in New Eng-
land to-day, and one which is increasing largely, came
to us instructed by their teachers at home, and are
constantly exhorted to abstain from intercourse with
us, like the Chinese ; not to intermarry with us, nor
become citizens ; and if these tilings have roused some
of our public men to denounce immigration of this
class, and recommend its discouragement, they raise a
cry of persecution, and declare that we are false to the
traditions of our government. God forbid we should
discriminate against the foreign-bom population ; but
they ought not to discriminate against us."

'* To a great extent you may expect narrow and igno-
rant views to prevail with the first generation of these
people," observed the Professor. "They are your
national raw material ; but your system of universal
education, and the atmosphere of thrift and intelligence
they will breathe, will make good citizens of tho

■BPiilB"

202

PROFESSOR COJ^ANT.

second generation. Meantime, it may bo awkward,
considering your extended franchise, that tliey should
exercise power over matters they do not undorstaiul.
But they are adding constantly and immensely to your
national wealth. The statement is startling, but it Ihas
been computed that during the four years of your civil
war and all the terrible destruction to bo expected from
two millions of men in arms, the total wealth of tlio
nation did not decrease, owing chiefly to the vast volume
of immigration that bolstered it. In fairness you must
credit these people to that extent, while they are
chargeable with whatever they do in the way of lower-
ing the standard of public morality among you. J3ut
we are making things too serious for the ladies," he
added, bowing to Miss Winthrop.

" Oh no," said Miss Winthrop, " I am sure we are all
delighted, but you must give us your views about
women's rights," she added laughingly, as they rose to
withdraw.

" Yes, we have talked enough about * men's wrongs,'"
the Professor responded good-humoredly.

CHAPTER XIX.

WE ARE MASSACHUSETTS FARMERS.

»>

The Professor and the Senator were to drive, but we
will not accompany them, for what could they see ia or
around Bol^ou which has not already been described
by a hundred facile pens ? They would see landmarks
and recall tradi ions enough for scores of romances ; but
have not all these been written and illustrated in a hun-
dred ways in the chronicles for which literary and art-
istic Boston is famous ? The young men, with the ex-
ception of George, joined the ladies, and for the first
time in their lives they found themselves entertained
by half a dozen jolly Boston girls in a fine old Boston
liouse which overlooked Boston Common. Of course,
they had seen Miss Winthrop, but they found her first in
Europe, and they claimed her as belonging to their
party. Alas, how evanescent are preconceived notions !
There was not a pair of eye-glasses, nor a pert blue-
stocking, in the room. There ought to be scores of the
latter in Boston, and no doubt they are very charming
people, wherever they are to be found ; but Miss Win-
throp's friends were all quiet and pleasant young ladies
like herself ; most of them were older, and had seen
more of society ; many of them had travelled, and all
had enjoyed such advantages as belong everywhere to
young gentlewomen ; in conversation, they were spark-
ling, lively ivnd entertaining ; and our young friends had

miE|im|niinn « n^
mmlJBpplliB W m

204

PROFESSOR CONANT.

not spent a happier afternoon since tJiry cane to Amer-
ica. Not that they were so misled as to have expected
vulgarity ; they had rather been tauglit to look tor liy-
percritical culture, and they had a half-defined idea of
a Boston girl as a philosopher and a mathematician,
who was never without a book under her arm. On the
other hand, these young girls had equal occasion for
disappointment. They had read, though they had
travelled and knew better, that Englishmen abroad
were always churlish and disagreeable ; that they
were impatient with American women, because they
called a " jug " a " pitcher," and tolerated too muck
crast under their tarts. If the truth must be told, they
were glad to meet these young Englishmen. They were
surprised to see nothing brusque in their manner ; and
that they were always agreeable and careful of the com-
fort of others. On the whole we must say, that the
afternoon afforded mutual delight and mutual disap-
pointment ; because they had found, on the one side,
that the young ladies were neither frigid nor strong-
minded, and on the other, that the young gentlemen
were not upstarts nor bores. So they soon forgot their
apprehensions, and became as thoroughly acquainted
as if all parties had been brought up together on one
side or other of the water.

Among the young ladies was a cousin of Miss Win-
throp, a Miss Mattie Elmwood, from Bloomfield, a small
suburban village near by. The young lady was midway,
as she told Fred, between the eldest and the youngest
of nine children. Her parents were humble people, and
they lived in a quiet way ; but she hoped Agnes would
fulfil her promise of driving Fred out to see them.

"If you want to understand America, Captain Co-

" WE ARE MASSACHUSETTS FARMERS:

205

nant," she said, " you must extend your observations
\o the poor, who are an important element of this com-
monwealth, but who, like all true Americans, think
themselves as good as their neiglibors. We can't give
you a practical lesson from an extreme point of view ;
but Ave are Massachusetts farmers, and, in that qual-
ity, belong to a class which one of your countrymen,
who once travelled among us, described as * the finest
peasantry on the face of God's earth.' I should like
to take you among the farmers whose lands are smaller
than ours ; but who sleep under their own roof and
cultivate their own soil. Do English girls never speak
of such things ? ''

Tom hoped they did speak of them.

"Well," she added, "we hear so much of the diflfu-
sion of the good things among the people, not alto-
gether of wealth and culture, but comfort and intelli-
gence, which the higher classes — for we have classes —
used to absorb more than they do now ; and we are
so taught to find the solution in the fact that each man
cultivates his own here, that even to children it all
seems rudimentary, so my father says, and he worships
your father. He says you can't exactly understand
our system, unless you see it in a prosperous community
of farmers with small holdings. It is not very hard to
get the idea, or I should not myself have got it ; but
father's heart is set on having you come to Bloomfield,
and stay until he has shown it all to you. He says
your father has be^n teaching him for twenty years,
and no\v he wants to return the compliment. He says
the farmers of Bloomfield are what the English agricul-
tural laborers ought to be."

" I am sure my father will go if ho can," said Tom ;

20G

PROFESSOR CONANT.

"it is just in the line of liis studies, but I shall be more
diffident. You ought to teach me."

"You are joking," said Miss Elm wood ; " but I think
I could teach a new-comer, for I have been among these
scenes all my life."

Kobert had found a young lady, familiar with art,
who knew " Kingsmere," his estate in Scotland, and
who had in her own house sketches of landscape slio
had taken there. " You must come and see them, Mr.
Holt," she said.

Eobert politely promised to call the next morning.
To himself he said, " After all, how small the world is !
Here I am, away in America, and I find among strangers
sketches of my old home. I wonder shall I recognize
them ? "

Fred Cuthbert's attentions had been general as well
as delightful to the young ladies, and they declared him
to be a most agreeable young man. The Professor im-
mensely enjoyed his long drive behind Mr. Winthrop's
fine bays, and he found out for himself, what others in-
deed had told him, that his host was an able man.
At dinner that night there were, besides the Professor's
party, only three or four distinguished men. One was
a fashionable preacher, though a man of great eloquence
and high spiritual life ; one was a poet, whose wit and
genius were proverbial, and whose muse for forty years
had been appreciated on both sides of the Atlantic;
another was a learned and well-known i^hilanthropist,
somewhat up in years, an advanced radical and an orator
of great versatility and power.

" T knew you were fatigued," Mr. "Winthrop had said
after the guests retired, " but I thought I must present
to you a few of our remarkable men."

''WE ABE MASSACHUSETTS FARMERS:

207

le more

I tliink
ig tliese

ritli art,
,nd, and
sapo slio
lem, Mr.

morning,
world is 1
strangers
recognize

al as well
lared him
'essor im-
intlirop's
thers in-
,\)le man.
rofessors
One was
sloqnence
^vit and
,rty years
Atlantic ;
[ntliropist,
an orator

had said
|st present

Miss Winthrop extolled the clergyman, eulogized
the "dear old poet," but was more guarded in her
praise of the eloquent philanthropist, who, though she
admired him, she wished was less rancorous and exer-
cised more charity. " I remember when his life was not
safe in the streets of Boston, because he sought freedom
for the slaves," observed the Professor. " By the way,
Agnes had an uncle, a little way out of town, who has
always been a bosom-friend and a firm supporter of
our philanthropist. He knows him as well as any man
living, and says that he is a,t heart full of benevolence
aud tenderness ; that his scathing satire and extrav-
agant denunciation are only tricks of his rhetoric, and
that his private life is full of sweetness and charity."

" To have met these men is ample recompense for my
journey across the water, perilous though it was," said
the Professor politely. "J shall always be your debtor,
Mr. Winthrop."

" Pardon me," was the reply," America is honored
by that journey and is hastening to say so. My guests
are honored by their experience to-night, and, I have
no doubt, you felt yourself to be surrounded by kindred
spirits, and that an unseen magnetism circulated among

TOU.

"I am sure your compliments are kindly meant,'*
continued Prof. Conant, " but you exaggerate. What
liave been my puny efforts compared with the services
of those who struck the shackles from the slave?"

" If my admiration and gratitude have led me astray,"
rejoined the Senator, " my countrymen have all fallen
into the same error."

That night George and his sister gave Tom and Holt
an account of their visit to Quebec, of their recognition

II
II

208

PROFESSOR CONANT.

of Miss Lytton, the recovery of the child, and the im-
provement in the condition of Madame De Luyncs, and
of their expected visit to them in Boston.

" You must both come and see them," said Miss Win-
throp. " As was proper, we have promised them to
have no company ; the visit is only an experiment to
try what change of scene will do ; but we will, I am
sure, with their consent, treat you as members of the
family. George is more cheerful," she said aside to
Tom, " and I do what I can, without shocking him, to
keep his mind diverted. Don't you think Ethel Lyt-
ton beautiful ? "

Tom assented, but he thought he knew a fairer than
she.

"Ethel was kind to George," she continued, "she
talked and drove out with him, and at times seemed to
make him forget his own sorrow. It is all so distress-
ing though," she added. " Do you know, Capt. Co-
nant, there is a lost link in my life, and I only found it
out lately ? "

Tom pressed for an explanation with great interest,
but was a little disappointed when she exclaimed,
" Oh ! if George could have known Ethel before he met
poor Miss Roberts! Is that wicked?" she asked.

" No," said Tom, " time flies ; in a few short months
what may not happen, which you and I tremble to
speak of now ! "

"I thank you," was all she said, but her manner
seemed to add, " I must lean on you for advice." And
he answered with a kiss.

" You have done wrong," she said coquettishly ; " let
this never happen again."

When Tom bade George " good night," he v/as so

'*WJS ARE MASSACHUSETTS FARMERS." 209

much at peace with the world that he congratulated him
on his seeming more cheerful, and said, " If you ever
want a friend, your sister will tell you that you may
trust me."

Next morning Robert called with Fred to see the
sketches, and found two or three young ladies waiting
to receive them. The artist had done her work well,
alike in choosing her company and in selecting her land-
scapes. They admired the one and applauded the
otlier, and spent the morning in a most delightful way.
Fred became convinced thut no one in England, save
perhaps his sister Alice, could compare with a young
Boston lady, and Robert, candid Robert, was inclined
to admit as much, though, as usual, he kept such
thoughts to himself.

The Professor and the Senator were fast gi'owing in-
separable friends. They talked of politics, of books
and statecraft, as if they had been born to agree ; and
some of the young people, though less learned in their
conversation, seemed equally fascinated and drawn to-
gether. Some were serious ; would they be constant ?
and others, alas ! were just flirting/az^^e de mieux.

During the day, many of the elite of Boston called to
pay their respects to the Professor — mafrnates from the
State House, savans from the colleges and schools —
and thus the day passed and the night came which was to
witness Prof. Conant's first reception in Boston. It was
private and select ; only such as were invited guests
attended. But " the solid men " and their wives and
daur^hters were there — men eminent in theology, law,
medicine, commerce and letters ; do we put the first
last?— but in that congenial atmosphere they were
numerous and distinguished.

"THW"

210

PROFESSOR COJ^ANT.

The Professor and his friends received an ovation
that charmed and delighted them, and accepted it in
the highest of good spirits, and for the whole week
Boston threAV wide open her homes and hearts to greet
the great English statesman. : '

The Professor had already made the acquaintance of
Gen. Enoch Elmwood, of Bloomfield, and the whole
party had promised to spend a day with him. Dr.
Elmwood, his brother, would join him there. Agnes
was in high spirits about the visit, till she found it
would be impossible to persuade George to go. The
last time he had visited his uncle, he said, had been to
confide to him the secret of his engagement and ap-
proaching marriage. To revisit him now would be to
recall painful memories.

Tom endeavored to persuade him with cheering words,
and his sister besought him to yield ; they all expected
him, she said, and everyone would be disappointed.

" Don't press me, little one," George answered, " it is
hard to refuse you, but I should only be a cloud upon
the spirits of the whole party"

Enoch Elmwood was an only brother of the Doctor.
He was older by several yoars, and had struggled with
poverty in early life ; but he now enjoyed a comfortable
competence, though he had always snatched from the
pursuits of his frugal life time enough to study public
affairs, and to comprehend the principles which he
thought should guide them. He was earnest and
intense in his convictions, and was a typical Puritan in
his exacting devotion to duty. He was kind and tender-
hearted toward all who suffered ; but he could hold no
truce with wrong-doers ; so long as they were perverse,
he was intolerant, and would smite them hip and thigh.

■^

3vation
cL it in
e week
to greet

tanco of
Q "wliole
.m. Dr.
Agnes
found it
o. The
1 been to
and ap-
ild be to

ng words,
expected

Unted.
ed, " it is
oud upon

Le Doctor.
Uled with
Cmfortable
from the
Idy public
[wbicb lie
[rnest and
>uritan in
ad tender-
ed bold no
, perverse,
[and tbigli-

"WE ARE MASSACHUSETTS FARMERS." 211

He loved his country, whose government he believed
wa3 the best in the world, and which had been estab-
lished after much persecution and was maintained in
the midst of many trials. He aad been conspicuous in
the anti-slavery controversies of Massachusetts before
the war, and had gone to the front when, finally, the
sword was drawn and the scabbard thrown away. He
had raised a company of the three months' men, first
called out by President Lincoln ; but he had continued
in the service as long as he was needed, and adorned it
with many brave deeds. He had gone out a captain,
but returned a general of brigade, " thankful," as he
said, when his country's enemies had surrendered, " to
return to the quiet cultivation of the farm." " I went
with two sons tc the war," he remarked ; " tliev both
fought at my side, and laid down their lives there.
Tens of thousands did like me with no thought of gam,
and yet our critics called us mercenary, and said that
we had shown our patriotism by hiring foreign sub-
stitutes to carry on the war. I was in the Massachu-
setts First Regiment," said he to the Professor, " and
their time had expired, and we expected to have been
mustered out, just before the battle of the 'Wilder-
ness ; ' but we remained till after the engagement, and
suffered seriously in dead and wounded. The troops
were then transported to Boston direct, but I came in
before them. It was a touching sight as those worn
and shattered veterans marched through the streets of
the city. I think there was a public welcome ; but
what touched me was the manner in which the common
people, whose battles they had been fighting, mingled
with, recognized and embraced them. Discipline was
almost impossible. There had been no accurate news

HII^JBWH

212

PROFESSOR CONANT.

of the casualties in the last fight, and the friends of the
brave soldiers did not yet know who were returnin'^ to
them. Fathers, mothers, sisters and brothers, from the
door-steps, from the wagons, from every elevation, were
peering into those serried ranks for the sight of some
dear one whom they expected and whom sometimes
they found, but who as often had fallen by the way.
It was a touching sight, but war is full of such pathetic
incidents."

General Elmwood was a religious man, his soul was
full of reverence, but he had not preserved the severe
orthodoxy of his Puritan fathers. Punishment, to his
mind, was sure to follow sin, but he hoped it was to be
a beneficial discipline ; he dwelt most, however, upon
God's goodness, and Christ's sacrifice for all men, and
his kind nature was agonized at the thought that any
soul could be lost. " Our fathers would turn in their
graves," he said, "if they could realize how the New
England of to-day is softening the rigors of her austere
theology ; but I have given the subject much thought,
and cannot believe we are the worse for it."

Bloomfield was a tranquil New England village, clean
and thrifty, such as everybody has seen, and General
Elmwood's hospitable farm-house stood like a country
bungalow, on an eminence above the town. Some peo-
ple, of local importance, had been invited to lunch, and
altogether they were a large party, but the long dining-
hall, which, at the busy season, was used to serve meals
in to those whom the General usually called his
" helps," was made to do service, and there was ample
room for all. One feature of the entertainment was
especially noticeable to Fred Cuthbert. When they all
sat down to their mid-day meal, what he would have

«« WE ARE MASSACHUSETTS FARMERS." 213

called tlie "servants," took tlieir places at the table
with the family, and, more than once, the farm hands
contributed to the conversation. It was a new depart-
ure for our friends, though they were too well bred to
notice it ; but Fred whispered, " we have all men free
and equal at last."

The Professor listened more than he talked. He
drew out the village schoolmaster on the subject of
graded schools ; the county sheriff on the causes and
expenses of land-sales ; and a bright little woman, who
was understood to write for " the Press," told him
what she knew of the kindergarten and Chautauqua
systems. The village editor diecussed the temperance
question, and expressed the hope that his friends
would make it a party shibboleth by-and-bye.

"Yes," said the General, "that is one of the great
questions of the future. Is the State to furnish poison
which induces crime, and then punish the people for
committing it ? Another question of the near future,
is that of woman's rights ; it is making its way, though
I cor ^ess I don't see through it in all its bearings as
yet. I have no doubt about a woman's right to vote ;
what troubles me is to know whether its exercise would
elevate or degrade her."

" Male politicians are not a great success, but you
would not take the franchise from men on that account,"
said the Professor. The conversation soon became
general, and everybody seemed to take an intelligent
interest in it. After lunch the Professor received a
committee of farmers who called to present resolutions
of a public meeting held the night before, and who at
tlie earnest solicitation of General Elmwood remained
after their business was over.

liiP

!!ii|l|'

■

PROFESSOR CONANT,

"I wanted you to meet these gentlemen," said the
General, "because they represent important interests
in this country of the agricultural class, as the proprie-
tors of their own farms, who are neither postered by
landlords nor by rents ; who are sheltered by their
own roofs and till their own acres. If a feudal, instead
of a democratic society had grown up here, its revemies
would have gone to the lords, who would have becomo
rich, while these men would be correspondingly poor.
Now, if you will visit a hundred farms about this place,
you will find reasonable comfort, a surprising intclU-
gencc, and a general independence of thought and
action, which come of having been trained to call no
man master."

" The statement is full of interest," said the Pro-
fessor ; " the relations between the land and its tillers
furnish in my country what has hitl.orto been an in-
solvable problem. In America you have solved it as
you suggest, but at home, where we are required to
uproot a bad system of great antiquity, the obstacles
are incalculable."

" The difference is," said Holt, " that here the peo-
ple own the land and enjoy the revenues, while, there,
they seem born only to pay tribute to noble holders.
I could name less than forty families of the titled
aristocracy of England, who govern that country. It
has been claimed that each of these families averages a
supply to every House of Commons of three members,
not to mention their seats in the Lords and their hold
upon every department of administration. Look at this
American picture, and see what might happen if all men
could enjoy equal rights as to the acquisition of land
in England."

" WE Alth: MASSACnUSETTS FARMERS:' 216

" Bloomfield, though a model town," observed the
Senator, " I am afraid docs not fairly represent the
wliole range of agricultural prosperity. The "West is
the great scene of settlement now ; individuals are
holders of large tracts, and railway companies have
been granted areas broad enough for kingdoms. A
good many things may happen before the settler of to-
day is quieted like these Bloomfield folk in their in-
dependent holdings."

" That would not affect the matter, so far as I am
concerned," replied the Professor, "though it shows
that in some parts of America there arc still some les-
sons to learn."

The committee vouchsafed their views like men who
understood whereof they were speaking. Tlio school-
master said there was a new study of American history,
which ought, for the sake of accuracy, to bo mentioned,
and which to some extent controlled current ideas.
The Puritan organization was not original, nor was
it precisely in old time as it is now. New England
towns were but a survival of Teutonic customs, which
Tacitus had described, and which could be traced in
Germany to this day. The Saxons carried them into
Britain. They survived the Conquest, and the founders
of New England brought them here. He had just been
reading a book which dealt with this subject, and the
agricultural community of the Middle Ages, and was
said to solve the old puzzle of the English lawyers about
certain customs of village land-holdings, which antedated
the feudal system. The New England towns originally
were founded on the idea of a village community of
allied families, settled near for social intercourse
and defense, but there was a common street. Fields

216

PROFESSOR CONANT.

wore allotted in the same way to individuals, but tliey
were fenced under the communal plan. These customs
were inherited from the Saxons, and have not altogether
faded away. Vestiges of these common properties are
still to be found. In Plymouth there are two hun-
dred acres now known as town-lands. A com]^any of
twenty-four proprietors, heirs of the first settlers, )wr( a
hundred and thirty acres, called the town-neck, it iio
old town of Sandwich, on Cape Cod. Every yea iq
proprietors meet to regulate tlio pasturage, attend to the
fencing, and to elect a moderator and a clerk, witli juris-
diction over the property. And a recent writer, speaking
of Virginia and New England, may have had some-
thing of this kind in his mind while supposing both to
be the most strictly English parts of the United States,
and that the mixture of any foreign element in the
original settlement must have been very small ; he
adds, " the two lands represent two different sides of
England. Virginia more nearly followed England at
the time of the settlement, and New England, the Eng-
land of an earlier time."

The Professor assured them that their position shed
light upon the controversy. "A young man studies
law," he said, "from musty books in a dingy hall;
there is a dry statement of principles, but he does not
understand them very well until he enters the courts,
follows the practice, and applies a procedure ; in short,
sees how it all works, then all becomes clear, and he
comprehends it. Just so with us, who theorize in our
relations to you, who show us what you are doing."

"A general proprietorship is a strong conservative
element in any country," remarked Dr. Elmwood
" What civilization has most to dread is communistic

" WE ARE MASSACHUSETTS FARMERS:

217

teaching among dissatisfied masses of people. It is
comparatively easy to convince tlie man with nothing
that the acquisition of property is a sin ; give that man
a home of his own, with the blessings of comfort around
it, and ho will change from being the enemy of society
to being its friend and defender."

"And now I must interrupt you, gentlemen," said
tho General, " for apropos of agricultural enterprise, I
must show the Professor my flocks and herds." They
examined the capacious barns, and inspected the broad
and highly cultivated meadows, in which occupation
the young people, in high spirits, joined. They saw
choice breeds of cattle, and the enthusiastic owner
explained their best points, and made practical sugges-
tions. Before they returned to town, it had been
aiTanged that the General and his daughter should
visit them the next morning. Dr. Conant was to dine
with the Governor of Massachusetts, an eccentric man
of great parts, who had commanded at important posts
(luring tho war, and whos3 military record was still a
subject of dispute. He had won his present position
by one of those reactions which sometimes befriend
pop; ^ar leaders, and his administration had given rise
to controversies in the State, more varied and more
bitter than Massachusetts had known for years. Our
Senator had declined an invitation, but he told the
Doctor he was to meet a remarkable man whose mili-
tary record had been cruelly misunderstood in England.
'Few men have a better knowledge of public affairs,
and you will find his conversation brilliant and instruc-
tive.' The young people were to attend the theater,
where a celebrated play had been running a hundred

nights, and all the actors, men and women, were Ameri-
10

218

PROFESSOR CONANT.

caus. Dr. Elmwood and George spent the oveninf^ at
homo with the Senator. They discussed the events of
the week, and all agreed that the visit of Professor
Conant and his party had been a rare treat to the good
people of Boston.

" I am in love with Tom Conant," said George. "I
believe there is the material for great things in him."

Both uncles cordially assented, and shortly after
withdrew for a gamo of billiards, leaving George alone.

"What a strange thing is the human heart," said
George, thoughtfully. " A few weeks ago all these
people were in the midst of death, but now they have
gathered uj) the threads of life again, and who would
dream that they had ever known disaster? And
should it not bo so ? for, if a single grief should darken
a whole life, there would bo no room for poignancy in
our later bereavements. And what am I ? Is my heart,
which was so stricken, retaining the sting ; or do the
mists lift, and are the clouds floating away? Did
she love me, or had she turned to another? I can
never know. Could I mourn for her if she loved me
not '^ Lord, lead mc aright that I may not cast away
grief unduly, nor mourn beyond the measure of my
loss."

The next morning Tom received a letter from Lord
Bolton ; he thanked him for an invitation to join their
party, spoke of the honor paid to Tom's father in
Boston, more cordially, according to a morning jour-
nal which he quoted, than had ever been paid to an
Englishman in this country. He- said the day was
" beastly," dark, rainy and cold, and, after a few like
commonplaces, added : " I suppose you will be here
to-morrow. I am awfully seedy, and I am dying to get

•' WB ARE MASSACHUSETTS FARMERS." 219

away. I think of going to the Pacific coast. It woiikl
be rest, and, in any case, distraction. My dear boy,
come with me ! I am always happier Avhen I am with
you.

" I must go to him, father," said Tom, and he glanced
furtively at Agnes, whose color came and went. "Poor
old Bolton is in trouble and he needs me."

" You won't go to California, Capt. Conant ? " Agnes
iuquired.

" No," replied Tom, with a look that reassured her.

'' We must all go to-morrow," said the Professor, " my
time is drawing near."

lu the meanwhile Dr. Elmwood, with the General
and his daughter, arrived, and there was an excitement
of welcome and greeting. The General was in high
spirits. " I reckon you don't have such sunshine as this in
Eii<i;land," ho remarked to the Professor as ho wandered
off with him in a conversation about the weather, the
crops, and other topics, into which we shall not follow
them.

Tom was deprecating the acceptance of hospitalities
for such a " crowd," as he called the Professor's party.

" My uncle says he never enjoyed a week so much in
his life," observed Agnes.

" Well, we can all say that," Tom replied ; " but I
-on't know how it would be if we had to bear the bur-
dens of the host. The fact is, I don't think I can judge
for the others."

"Why?"

" Because my circumstances are so different."

" Tell me how," she inquired coyly, pretending not to
understand him.

"Well," said Tom, "I have *a friend at court.' My

220

PROFESSOR CONANT.

dear little friend is a fairy ; I have only to wish and
my wish is gratified."

" You will have to be more explicit if you want me to
understand you," Agnes responded.

Then he made his meaning so plain to her that she
comprehended it all. " You are my fairy," he said.

"No, no, not that," murmured Agnes; "let us be
serious. Have you enjoyed your visit to Boston ? "

"More than I can find words to express," Tom
answered.

" And your friends ? "

" They have all been delighted beyond measure."

" What do you think of the people you have met ? "

" Men and women, one could not find their superiors
anywhere."

" Dear old Boston seems very charming to me,"
Agnes said, absently.

" Why, I should have thought myself in an English
city," observed Tom.

" Do you still believe it is so very essential that a
city must be English in order to charm you ? "

" Well, no," replied Tom, " but to find it English
would be the highest compliment I could pay it. You
know England is my home, and I haven't been long
enough in America to forget my attachment to it ; but
every day I am here I find something to surprise and
delight me. When I came to Boston I at once felt at
home. My opinions are of small consequence, except
perhaps to you. What I say, I feel. Would you ask
me to say more ? "

" Oh, no ! " she responded ; " that you and your father
Lave been pleased with your visit is gratifying to us all,
and to no one more than to me."

WE ARE MASSACHUSETTS FARMERS.'

wish and

int me to

that she
said.
let us be
on? "
,s," Tom

t English
Y it. You
been long

it ; but
prise and
ce felt at
ce, except

1 you ask

tour father
to us all,

221

" Some time you will be English," he said, caressingly.

"And would that involve forgetting Boston ? " she
asked.

" Oh, no ! " was the reply ; " all our lives we will to-
gether love and admire Boston."

"My darling ! " he continued, " places go for little in
the calculation I invite you to make. Could you leave
Boston and come to London? "

" I know what I could do," she said ; " but we won't
speak of that now. Let us be happy and not think of
such startling changes."

" But when may I speak? You know we are to leave in
the morning," urged Tom. " I can't keep silent forever."

" Speak when you are bidden, sir," she answered ;
" and now come to the drawing-room with me."

Tom gently tried to detain her, but she bounded
away with his hand in hers, and thus ended another
attempt to declare himself.

Fred Cuthb^rt and Miss Elmwood had been enjoying
a tete-d-tete. The latter had been giving Fred her ideas
of American life and maimers. " I have never been in
Europe," Miss Elmwood remarked ; "but I suppose you
are ever so much wiser and more polished there."

" Well, no," Fred answered ; " we are older, and of
course that counts for something. I used to give Eng-
land credit for greater superiority before I came here.
And as for Bloomfield, I don't know what could sur-
pass the interest one feels in tliose old farmers and
their wives and daughters whom we met there. Do you
know I begin to think that we attach too much import-
ance to mere geographical distinctions? It isn't because
a man is English or American that he is refined or
agreeable. Gentle manners everywhere denote the

'■m

222

PROFESSOR CONANT.

same thing. In England we have titles and wealth, and
here you have wealth without titles ; but they all mean
little without the adornment of cultivated minds."

" Well, it appears to me that is a very democratic
statement," said Miss Elmwood. " To the aristocracy
of intellect we all subscribe, but I never expected to
hear such doctrines from you."

" Perhaps I am a little off the beaten track, and I
may have seen America through the ministry of unusual
fascinations ; but you and I shall never get far apart if
all you ask me to believe is that mind should be more
powerful than millions ; and if the common people, ^^s
we call them, were fairly represented by some of the
gentlemen we have met here, who escaped early from
their ranks, and have been for a life-time undergoing
the polish of study and thought, then even that distinc-
tion might be abandoned."

It was to be the Professor's last night in Boston;
a good many friends were calling to take an uncere-
monious leave ; and that good man was warmly thank-
ing everybody for the generous welcome he had re-
ceived. "It is not strange," he said, "that England
and America sometimes find it difficult to understand
each other. There are rivalries of commerce, opposing
fiscal systems, and many men in each country hostile to
the other ; but as to our great mission of freedom wo
have a common work to perform. "VVe have each our
national faults and failings, which require a season of
peace and prosperity to get rid of. It is the interest
of each that the other should grow freer and stronger.
There ought to be a united English-speaking race
throughout the world. I do not speak of a union of
treaties and alliances, but one of common aims and pur-

'*WE ARE MASSACHUSETTS FARMERS.'

223

poses, which spring from sentiments of universal brother-
hood, and a sense of common duties each has to fulfill.

The young people had been busy in paying calls and
bidding adieu to friends, but now that they were at
home again, the parlors were thronged with Boston
folk who had " just dropped in " to say good-bye ; and
there was in the appearance of things a suspicion of
imptnding change and the obvious din of preparation,
as if one's engagemf»nts had been fulfillod, and the hour
of departure were at hand.

" To-morrow will be Evacuation day," said Fred to
Miss Winthrop, "and then the weary may rest."

" Are you studying our patriotic nomenclature ? " she
inquired.

"One may learn without study here," replied Fred.
" Everything is in such big print, you can read it like
Sam Slick by moonlight."

"Then you shall read to me by-and-bye," she said
gayly, " but you must read to my guests now."

As he mingled with the bright throng and was lost
to view, she remarked to Robert who approached her :
"How saucily he carries himself; what a fund he has of
humor and wit! "

" Ho is a fine fellow," said Robert, " and full of good
nature, though we call him * the cynic' But really if
he was intended for a wit I think his make-up is rather
feeble."

" Oh, you are serious, Mr. Holt ; you are not in a
mood to appreciate funny things." 7

"Well, I sometimes laugh, at any rate, as I did at
poor Fred's expense this morning. We were driving
along the river-side, and found a countryman lazily fish-
ing from its banks.

224

PROFESSOR CONANT.

" * What are you fishing for there, my man,* asked
Fred, with an air of hauteur, which the countryman re-
sented.

" * I'm fishin' a'ter Britishers,' he answered quizzically,
" but 'taint no kind o' use. They don't bite here's as
they did in '76.' "

George had responded to Tom's invitation, and had
unreservedly given him his full confidence. " She was
so good, and so beautiful," he said ; " I thought her the
loveliest of women. My sister spoke of another man's
brilliant and dazzlin:^ suit. Something in her last letter
had almost prepared me for it. Would she have asked
me to release her? Agnes does not help me. She
knows nothing, she says."

Tom knew that Agnes refrained from defending the
memory of Miss Roberts, because she saw in George's
doubts a mitigacion of his grief.

"It is not all clear, even to me," she had said; "she
was loyal to him, but did she love him ? "

" That is what we can never know," Tom answered;
but he gave no hint of all this to George, as silence had
been enjoined upon him by his sister.

And then they spoke of Agnes, whom both worshiped,
from different points of view ; and George related how,
since her return, she was devoting herself to charities,
hunting out and relieving the destitution of the poor ;
and Tom's big heart throbbed quicker as he recognized
in Miss Winthrop an early follower of his good mother's
example.

" Now I must go, George," he said ; " but if you ever
need a sympathetic friend, you will always know where
to find Tom Conant."

Hg sought Miss Winthrop and was distressed to find

WE ARE MASSACHUSETTS FARMERS^

225

1,' asked
^maii re-

izzically,
here's as

, and had
' She was
ht her the
her man's
last letter
.ave asked
me. She

uncling the
n George's

said; "she

answered ;
iilence had

worshiped,
lated how,
o charities,
; the poor;
recognized
)d mother's

if von ever
tnow wliere

jsed to y^

her in low spirits. " Why are you sad, my darling,"
lie inquired ; but she gave him her hand without heed-
ing his question.

"Has something happened ? "

"No."

" . len why are you sad ? " he persisted.

" J^ut something is about to happen ; are not you going
away V " she asked, and her gray eyes filled with tears.

Tom rendered his answer as he had done before, but
tMs time without reproof, and she nestled in his strong
arms for a moment, as if she were unable to break
away.

" Sweet one," said Tom, " let me speak to your uncle,
now that my father is here."

"Not now," she replied; "I have been weak, but we
must wait. Is that dreadful? You have known me but
tbree months," she added, smiling ; "but you will come
to me again soon and we shall learn to know each other
better."

" Do you doubt me ?" asked Tom.

"My dear friend," she responded caressingly, "when
you are with me, I doubt nothing ; I forget that you are
not mine, and that your good heart might change ; but
^lieu you are gone my faith relaxes, and in your absence
1 1 tremble lest I may not see you again. You think I
I am weak ; well, strength is not born of this strange new

influence under which I am falling. I must resist it,

and we must wait ; but my uncle says you may write me

sometimes. We shall not see each other alone again.
I^ewill go to the others. Good-bye," and in spite of
jail, they embraced like young people who almost under-
stood each other.

" Grood-bye," Tom repeated ; " you are a cruel little

10*

r^ f

226

PROFESSOR CON A NT.

W'l

darling, but God bless you." And as tliey rejoined their
friends the great pictures on the walls smiled upon
tliem in the gaslight, as if their choice was approved
and their secret safe.

Next morning our travellers returned through a
rough but beautiful country, flauked with small villages
and thrifty towns. The press had given notice of the
train by which they would journey, and all along the
route crowds of people beset the station and thronged
the cars, eager to catch sight of the great Englishman
who stood by their country's cause in her hour of peril.
Everywhere, as the train approached and departed
from the stations, the Professor was welcomed and
cheered on by the heartiest salutations.

On his arrival in New York, Tom found a note from
Lord Bolton, saying that he was too restless to remain,
and had gone to Canada for a day or two. They all
found " letters from home," full of congratulations on
their escape from peril, and abounding in kind wishes
for the homev/ard voyage. Letters from home are as
the " bread of life " to the far-off wanderer ; and these
letters cheered our friends and they passed their even-
ing happily together.

irougTi a
11 villages
Ice o£ tlie
along tlie
I thronged
,nglislimaii
ur of peril.
;1 departed
coined and

a note from
13 to remain,
0. They all
tulations on
land wishes
ome are as
IV ; and these
d their even-

CHAPTER XX.

" THE people's KINa IN AMERICA."

♦

Next day the Professor called to pay his respects to
the President of the United States, who was spending
a few days, like any private gentleman, at one of the
leading hotels. He was cordially received, and was
struck by the absence of ostentation and parade in tlie
going and coming of the people's king in America.
Among the Professor's callers was an old gentleman,
well stricken in years, a famous philanthropist, who had
spent millions in benevolence, himself superintending
the administration of his gifts and securing the best
results, " instead of," as the Professor observed, " clutch-
ing his filthy lucre to the end, and then, perhaps, leaving
his vast estates to some extent burdened with charita-
ble bequests, which interested neither his heirs nor his
executors, who v;ould be only too ready to set aside his
charities altogether if they could."

The same afternoon ho was waited on by a deputa-
tion of " the Irish National Land League of America,"
to congratulate him on the noble sentiments he had
from time to time expressed, and to ask his good offices
in their behalf, who were seeking " Home Rule for Ire-
land;" so much had this good man opened his great

heart to all the people, that he had won them all. Such

things would oftener happen if public men were more

sympathetic and sincere.

il !! ^

228

PROFESSOR CONANT.

That night the party was to be entertained by the
Hon. Mr. Douglas, a 'former Secretary of State, who
had flourished in earlier days, when the native popula-
tion had organized to check the influence of the foreign
element, and claimed " America for the Americans."

"And we were right, too," he said to the Professor, as
they discussed this subject ; " we violated no traditions
and we preached no intolerance ; but we, who were
Americans by birth, whose all was at stake here, found
ourselves in many places outnumbered and outvoted
by foreigners, who knew nothing about government,
either of the country or of themselves, and who could
hardly read the Constitution in the vulgar tongue.
The movement was not a success, and brought down
the vengeance of the foreign population upon those who
promoted it. It was a conspiracy against them, they
said ; but had we not a right to conspire ? The classes
at which we aimed were always against us, in a solid
body."

" This is all very dangerous in a mixed population,"
remarked the Professor. " 1 suppose, for example, our
Irish friends who honored me to-day, and would at
least be included among those you discriminated against,
were influenced chiefly by the labor question and the
possibility of rivalry from the negro."

"Well, yes, but not chiefly," said Mr. Douglas;
" their hostility dates farther back. When our govern-
ment was in its infancy, the followers of Washington
and Hamilton dreaded such immigration as came over to
us, inflamed with the passions oi' the French Eevolu-
tion ; party strife ran high, and party spirit was rancor-
ous. The Whigs sought to impose restrictions, and the
Democrats defended these people. Their resentment

''THE PEOPLE'S KINO IN AMERICA.

229

on the one hand, and their debt of gratitude on the
other, have moulded their politics to this day ; and the
Republicans inherited from the Whigs. No doubt the
dissension has been kept alive, as more recent antago-
nism developed, but the negro question has been only
one of many."

" We must always expect human nature to develop
two currents of opinion," observed the Professor, " but
there is positive danger to any community whenever
the wrangles of race and creed underlie the differences
of party. They may smoulder but they are not to
be quenched ; it is moreover the manifest interest of
demagogues to keep them alive."

" At the worst the pressing danger is confined to the
cities," said Mr. Douglas. " The immigrant who settles
on the prairies or in the nearer ruril districts, has quiet
and steady occupation, and speedily becomes a good
citizen. He is not educated as his son will be, but he
has a house to be taxed and defended, which gives him
an interest in good government, and he is removed
from the worst schools of vice and dissipation. So
there is a chance for the first generation, and the
country will have a stronger hold on the second."

"Yes, your safety lies there," remarked the Pro-
fessor, " in the distribution and assimilation of foreign
comers, and in the thorough adaptation and efficiency
of your schools. But I am afraid I am a sad trial to
you ladies," he said, rising, and bowing to Miss Doug-
las, " my time is so short, and I have so much to learn,
that I set every body speaking to me of public ques-
tions."

" I am sure Papa is not unhappy," was Miss Doug-
las's answer ; " I have enjoyed so much, when I have

230

PROFESSOR CON ANT.

heard you speak, but I did come to interrupt you. His
Excellency, the President, is here, and desires me to
present his compliments to Professor Conant, end to
you Papa, wliicli means, I expect, that ho wants to see
you both."

" Your Republican King abroad among his subjects ! "
said the Professor, briskly.

"Not his subjects, but his people,' interposed Miss
Douglas. And they withdrew to meet the great man
who helps fifty odd millions of people to govern tiiem-
selves.

They found the President awaiting thera, and after
cordial greetings, he led them into conversation about
ordinary topics. A new interest had been lately given
to the question of Civil Rights, as it affected the col-
ored people ; " Were they to be recognized in law as the
equals of white men? Could the}'- be discriminated
against, as guests in hotels, as passengers on the routes
of travel, or as worshipers in the churches? "

The Professor would have been glad to know the
President's views, and he introduced the subject cau-
tiously.

" Oh, we have spent blood and treasure enough for
the negro," observed Mr. Douglas ; " he must let us
rest."

" In all we have done for the negro we were really
serving ourselves," said the President ; " as to his social
status he must help to make that. A gentleman is a
man of intelligence and refinement, black or white;
men stand with each other, all things being equal, ac-
cording to their work as men. "We must not insist on
privileges for the negro which we deny to the white
man, and which he is unfitted to enjoy. His wrongs

*'T///? PEOPLE'S KINO TN AMERICA."

231

)u. His

J me to

end to

s to see

bjccts!"

od Miss
eat man
rn tliem-

md after
3n about
sly giveu
I the col-
aw as the
riminated
he routes

:now the
ect cau-

lough for
st let us

re really
his social
eman is a
)r white;
equal, ac-

insist on
;lie -white

s -wrongs

while he was a slave have directed great sympathy to-
ward liim. But he must not force impossible issues ;
there is an unjust prejudice against him now, which is
gradually fading away. "VVe may let it fade, but we can-
not obliterate it by force. The Civil Rights question
will settle itself. This discrimination against race on
account of color will disappear. Public sentiment is
tending that way. The negro will be a guest at the
same hotels, and a passenger on the same trains, as the
white man. Some white men will, and some will not,
invite him to dinner. That question of social inequal-
ity may involve hardships, but it is only a relic of
greater hardships which have been wiped out. It, too,
may go in time and perhaps sooner than the negro him-
self could have believed emancipation would come, a
few years ago. By attempting to force it now we might
perpatrate another tyranny. Festina lentCf in this, as in
most other things, is the safe motto."

"Yes," rejoined the Professor, " among n.ixed popu-
lations iron rules are dangerous pacificators. Some re-
spect must be paid to the habits, and even the preju-
dices, of a people. We must have reasonable patience
and sooner or later the right will provaih"

" Y-e-s," observed Mr. Douglas, " but we are dealing
with old enemies. We must not imitate the dough-
faces, and for the sake of quiet, plead for delay."

They all went to the dra-wing-room, to find the guests.
The President was a familiar figure, and had gone in
and out among these people for years. The Professor
noticed that they greeted him respectfully and cordially ;
but there was nothing abject or servile in their manner
toward him. To the eminence he now occupied they
might all aspire.

ill

!! ! I

I i:

if ; '

232

PROFESSOR CON ANT.

Fred Cutlibert was in his usual good spirits. He had
been catechised by Miss Douglas, as to his opinion of
America. TVe, who saw him falter in Boston, might
expect him to capitulate to Miss Douglas, but he was^
more wayward, and peals of laughter were provoked by
his hits and drolleries. As he was taking his leave, he
said to Miss Douglas, " the one thing I do envy Amer-
ica is her young ladies."

" You might have spared us that," she said, curtly.

" Upon my honor," Fred gallantly remarked, " I have
never met in any society before such a proportion of
brilliant and fascinating women."

" Good-night, Mr. Cuthbert, I shall expect you at
eleven. You should go and study your part for to-
morrow."

Next morning Tom received a letter from Lord Bolton,
who was the guest of the Governor of Canada at Que-
bec. It reasserted his Lordship's intentiop to visit the
west, and his desire that Tom should go with him. " I
cannot give you any gossiping news," the letter went
on, " but what seemed to me a strange thing happened
last night at dinner. There were covers for fourteen.
One of the guests at the last moment sent an excuse on
account of indisposition ; this left us to be thirteen at
table ! Lord Lester refused to be seated till a young
officer had been sent for and had been given time to
array himself. * You know the superstition ! ' he said
to mi . I laughingly told him I had heard of it, but
never saw it officially recognized before. 'Well,' he
said, 'a painful case greatly shocked society here
lately. A gentleman, whose hospitalities were proverb-
ial, here, found himself and thirteen guests about sit-
ting down at table, when one of them was peremptorily

. r

''THE PEOPLE'S KINO IN AMERICA,"

233

ii ill
ll

called away. * This leaves us thirteen,' said the host,
carelessly, ' but if it means death, I shall be the victim,
for I am much older than any of you.' They made an
unsuccessful effort to fill the vacant seat, and the party
was constrained and gloomy. Next morning the host
died of apoplexy. The sad circumstance creu-ted a pro-
found impression. I am not superstitious, but I would
not risk making my guests uncomfortable.' I was in
tlie mood to be impressed, and I brooded over the
superstition long after I had retired."

" Let me say about that, before you proceed," inter-
rupted the Professor, " that this mystic superstition
dates back to the beginning of the Christian era, and
there is a legend that good King Arthur's Hound Table
was provided among others with thirteen seats to repre-
sent the Apostles of our Lord ; twelve for the faithful,
and one for Judas, who betrayed Him. Tlio most val-
iant knights occupied the twelve, and if one of these
died, his seat was unoccupied till some Knight of equal
distinction could be found worthy to take the vacant
place. An unworthy candidate was repelled by magic.
Only once was the thirteenth seat taken, and then the
haughty Saracen Knight, wlio intruded, was rewarded
by the earth yawning beneath and swallowing him.
From that time, thirteen hundred years ago, men have
dreaded the thirteenth seat, and the disasters which
from time to time have befallen its occupants have mul-
tiplied into fatal precedents, and taken the place of the
lost tradition."

All were silent till at last Tom asked permission, and
resumed his reading. " But you will want to hear from
the De Luynes. They are better and less wretched there,
and I visit them daily. I have long conversations with

23i

PROFESSOR CONANT,

Madame De Luynes, which seem to do her good, and
she bearw her bereavement better as time passes, and
speaks beautifully of death and the hereafter. Miss
Ethel Lytton is her sister reproduced, which means
everything complimentary of a woman. Tell Eoberfc,
little Ethel progresses finely, and the child's mother
wants to add Holt to the name she is called by. 8he
says she dreamed Maurice bade her do so, and she
knows the idea would have pleased him as it has
pleased her. In that case he would have to address
his \\ii\Q protegee, as 'Ethel Carlotta Holt De Luynes.'
* Carlotta. Holt ' would sound well, but the whole name
does not euphonize." - . >

" Straiige ! the child must have been christened,"
said Tjm.

" Oh, yes," added Robert, " but another name might
be used conventionally."

" He has thought of that before," remarked Tom to
his father, when next they were alone. But the Pro-
fessor saw nothing astray in Carlotta' s suggestion, nor
in Robert's willingness to lend his name to the Lhild.

" Yes," observed Tom, with a faint smile. " The
child is dear to him, and its mother feels the warmest
gratitude toward Robert Holt, while she suffers the
deepest of human afflictions. Bolton wrote, though I
did not read it aloud, ' Miss Lytton will shortly visit
the "Winthrops in Boston, qiddhj,^ whatever tliat means,
and as if one could be quiet in that hospitable old
mansion."

" " I suppose Madame Do Luynes will accompany her,"
said the Professor. " I understood the journey was
merely for her, and to try the effects of change. Of
course they will be quiet and will not receive."

''THE PEOPLE'S KING IN AMERICA.

235

Father and son read for some time in silence. At
length the Professor handed him a letter and said,
" Tom, your dear little mother seems disquieted about

you."

" About me !" Tom answered, astonished.

"Well, she gathers from your letters that you have
formed an attachment, but you do not seem to have
shown her any purpose in your suit. She thinks this
unfair to yourself and to the young lady. As usual,
she is right. Read the iett:;r, and we will speak about
it again. Your mother mads an early marriage, and she
behaves in it."

*' I have had no secrets from you, father. When I learn
more, you shall know it ; if I am not to be married early,
the fault will not be mine."

'•'You know I must leave America now in a few days,"
observed the Professor. " I suppose you will remain."

" Yes, if my leave can be extended," replied Tom.

" We must see to that," the father answered ; and they
went out to pay calls.

An hour later Tom returned alone ; he picked up the
eveninp; paper, and his eye caught in flaring headings
over a British cable, " The Times demands reorganiza-
tion and a dissolution. Professor Conant to be Chan-
cellor of the Exchequer and Leader of the Commons."
As usual, the real text was a little milder than the
flaring caption ; but the Times did urge that dissolution
was desirable, and stated that no Liberal Cabinet would
be acceptable which did not include the Professor.

"Things seem almost settled," said Tom, after his
father came back.

"It is only a newspaper paragraph," observed the
Professor, modestly.

236

PROFESSOR CONANT.

" But Bolton says it is sure to come," said Tom with
confidence.

"And when it comes, my son," slowly replied the
Professor, "it will add loads of care and burden to
your father's life. But if all this fleeting popularity
would sustain me, I might do good ; yet, perhaps, ere
my feet were in the stirrups the people would abandon
me, and be found running after new idols."

Tom had just now received a letter from Agnes, which
he hastened away to read, and which put him in great
spirits. The letter was promptly answered, but we will
not disclose the secrets of the correspondence further
than this, that it announced Carlotta's expected visit in
two weeks with Miss Lytton and little Ethel. The visit
was a secret, known only to Uncle Horace and George.
But Agnes felt very sure that Madame De Luynes would
forgive them if Tom and Robert should come, and she
notified them to govern themselves accordingly.

That night. Lord Bolton arrived, and was full of his
projected visit to the West, but disappointed that Tom
could not go. He took leave of his friends, and was to
undertake the journey next morning.

Tom parted from him with regret. His Lordship
promised to write often, and to return in a few weeks.

The Professor, on the invitation of the British Minis-
ter, was to pay a flying visit to Washington, and Mr.
Winthro}. was to meet him there : the party was to he
absent for a week. There was an extra session of Con-
gress, so that the Professor met some of the great men,
and saw all the politicians in Washington. Of course
current political topics engrossed ttention.

Professor Conant listened to the debates and was
instructed in the theories of those who see prosperity

" THE PEOPLE'S KING IN AMERICA:

237

for tlie poor man in high prices. He was astonished to
learn that England .vas scattering gold throughout
America, to bribe the way for the starvation of the toil-
ing masses here. He did not believe the theory, but he
was prejudiced, perhaps, and his ear inclined to those
who pleaded for such fiscal provisions as would enable
them to buy in the cheapest and sell in the dearest
market. " I am a free-trader, but theories may be
plausible, and even practicable here, which in our dif-
ferent circumstances we could not tolerate in England.
Your vast resources leave you room for waste, wliich
we could not afford in my country," said Dr. Conant.
When his attention was called to the enormous national
surplus, he simply observed, " I suppose all the money
is derived from the taxation of your people. It might
have been a half more, or a half less, as the taxation
was increased or diminished. But your vast resources,
and varieties of climate and production, especially in
your prosperous days, will accumulate wealth, in spite
of burdens. I suppose you must have revenues here for
the general expenses of administration. Your people
would not bear direct taxation, though that would be
cheaper and more logical, so that in this countiy it is
not a question of whether you will impose duties, but
at what point you will draw the line." '

The Professor attended a reception at the White
House that night, and when he saw how the crowd
persecuted the poor President with their loyal atten-
tions, he laughingly said, " It might be worth a battle
or two to fight democracy back a little, and put the
President on an elevation, as to the familiar greet-
ings he encountered, so that everybody could not un-
ceremoniously reach him."

ijiiiiii

238

PROFESSOR GONANT.

He was deliglited, in conversation with high digni-
taries, at the freedom they indulged in the discussion
of affairs, and he specially noted some remarks about a
case which involved bribery.

" Other crimes," said one of the Judges, " according
to the popular idea, may involve greater depravity, but
nothing can be more dangerous to the public welfare.
Wo have lately emerged from a great war, and as it has
been among other people in similar circumstances, the
plain truth is that corruption abounds. It carries a
dagger aimed at the national heart, and "is full of dan-
ger to our liberties and a menace to the existence of
the government ; the people should combine to crush
it as one man. You cannot reach it in the ordinary
way ; it is so often exercised in the interest of one or
other political party."

• " Bribery is common among i""s in England," the
Professor said to himself, " but its putrid breath is not
perhaps so often detected in high places.'

And so, from group after group, as they passed and
repassed each other, he learned something new on sub-
jects which he might have read or thought of before,
but which he had never hoard discussed by human lips
on the threshold of Democratic authority. Men were
not less honest here, he thought, even if corruption
were more extended, because in this country every m.in
has a voice, though some men might be open to influ-
ences that would silence it ; but in older countries,
the voice of the same class is silent, and having no
influences to sell, these people are not liable to be
tempted. It was the old story over again, of Democracy
and the tempter abroad.

The young men had met kindred spirits among the

'' 'HIE PEOPLE'S KING IN AMERICA."

23^

Civil Service, at the Embassy, and among young officers
of the Army. Tom's position, as the son of his father,
would have given him the entree anyv/here ; but he was
not less run after because he was an officer of the
Guards ; and iRobert and Fred were not less esteemed
chiefly on their own merits, let us hope, and because
they were pleasant and entertaining gentlemen ; but it
may have entered the heads of their entertainers that
the one was the son of a rich Bartmet, and the other
well connected — himself a young man of fortune. iHow-
ever it was, Ithey were petted and pamjjered by the
simple iRepublican society of the capital. They re-
ceived callers, and they returned calls. iHops were
fashionable, and they attended them, and to their seduc-
tive influence, they all, more or less, succumbed, and
Boston ran the risk of being forgotten as Fred's respon-
sive heart glowed with admiration of the women he met
in Washington.

The Professor, with his friends, drove about the
beautiful city next day, but everything they saw has
been so often described by cunning pens that we abstain
from follov/ing them. There was a dinner at the Brit-
ish Embassy, and Attorney-General Burrows, who had
parted from him under duress, was a fellow-guest, as ho
had been lately a fellow-passenger. iHe was full of the
disasters of the Alaric, which had grown an old story
with the Professor, and he listened to it as to a twice-
told tale ; when IVIr. Burrows recalled his acquaintance
witli De Luynes, whose accomplishments and brilliant
talk he admired, the Professor's sympathies were ex-
citad, and his eyes were moistened with tears.

" iHe was a fine fellow," said Mr. Burrows, " gentle,
with a heart full of kindness, and mental faculties of a

i II m

240

PROFESSOR CONANT.

rare order." He explained that his own family and
friends had arrived safely, and listened with interest to
what the Professor told him of the experiences of him-
self and party. " Poor Miss Eoberts," he added, " she
was a lovely character ; I knew her well. For the last
two years she had adorned society here."

The Professor sat at the right of the British Minister,
and for some time they spoke of home gossip and
political affairs. At length his Lordship said, "The
Americans are striving to correct a great abuse, and I,
hoyje not with indifferent success. They are reforming
their Civil Service. As things have boen, this service
was a creature of the party patronage, and its reforma-
tion was difficult to approach. The rule here has been
* to the victors belong the spoils,' and many civil ser-
vants knew that their appointments were not for fitness,
and that their successors would have their places when
their enemies came into power. Their party levied on
them for a percentage of their emoluments wherever
expenditures were required. They knew that in that
way the party disbursements were really paid out of
the general public fund, so they might naturally say,
why should not tliese funds contribute to our conven-
ience as well as theirs ? If they became dishonest pub-
lic servants, here was the entering wedge ; and they
knew, moreover, no matter how distinguished their ser-
vices, that they were likely to be bundled out with their
party when its time came. There was little encourage-
ment for honest service, and it was, to a great extent,
both dishonest and inefficient. We understand the
question at home, and we know how important it is
that the Civil Service should be removed from party
patronage. They are trying the experiment here now.

" THE PEOPLE'S KING IN A3IER.WA."

241

because there is a cLamor for a change ; but it may be
doubtoil if either party is honestly roady to promote it.
Political patronage," added the Professor, " is a great
source of corruption if dishonestly dispensed ; there are
many things to be said against us, but in this particular
T;^e are moving in the right direction."

"Our politics has this great advantage," observed
the Minister. " There are multitudes in this country to
whom politics is a trade. With civil service reform,
the occupation of these men would be gone ; so, you
see, it will not be really accomplished without a battle!"

" It seems to me very plain," remarked the Professor,
"that the civil servant is an officer of the State, and
should be the henchman of neither one party nor the
other. His services should be rendered as is his fealty,
which is due to the whole country. He should have
no favorites, he should hold office only during good
behavior, and should neither look for, nor accept a
favor. The public service could not otherwise be well
conducted. On what other principle could the affairs
of a bank or a private corporation be administered ?
How could a merchant conduct his business with
ignorant clerks, who are never to be depended upon
and who are always changing? "

" These are questions which in this ''ountry the peo-
ple have to answer," said Lord Gough, " and the
nation can never have an honest service nor an efficient
administration till they have settled them." ■ ^^ '

"It will all come in good time," said the Professor.
" Fifty years ago we could not have dreamed of the
purity of administration which we have since achieved
in England."

" Do you think it fair," inquired Mr. Burrows, " that

11 ^'■-

242

PllOFEHSOR CON ANT.

there should be no rotation in office ? Is one man to

be forever preferred, and his neighbor forever debarred,
from enjoying it?" "Assuredly," replied the Pro-
fessor, " unless the public good requires a change.
Office is not one of the privileges which the State under-
takes to confer upon the citizen. If it were so, every
man would have a claim, and there is no safety except
in the country's demanding the best service and the
highest qualifications from her men in office." " That
is a plausible doctrine," remarked Mr. Winthrop, " ^^v*
under its teaching parties would be shorn of half their
strength."

"Then the sooner the better," responded the Pro-
fessor. " Petty patronage is the curse of parties, and
their selfish exercise of it is a menace to the free in-
stitutions of any country."

" What a pity it is that the subject could not be as
summarily disposed of before the country as we can
treat it here," observed the Attorney General.
. The conversation here grew more diffused ; they
spoke of Mexico and the labor strikes, of research and
the exploration of the Polar seas ; of Germany and her
massive concentrations ; of Republican Prance, her
strength and her peril ; and of Ireland, her progress
and her reaction, her desperation and her hope.

" Why do you not give her Home Rule ? " said a
voice. " My countrymen would grant that if she would
be satisfied," replied the Professor. " The disposition
to do Ireland that measure of justice is growing, but
the effect of extreme and violent courses is to retard it."

There were to be no toasts, and the host, who evi-
dently dreaded an explosion, rose from the table and
his guests followed him. They found Lady Gough

not be as
as we can

•• THE PEOPLE'S KINO IN AMERICA.

243

with several distinguished ladies iu the dra,wing-room.
Meantime, His Excellency the President had dropped
in unceremoniously, and the kindly interchange of
thought and of courtesies continued until a late hour.

" I ought to apologize to your Ladyship," said the
Professor in taking his leave, " and to the ladies every-
where during my visit ; for I suppose it is altogether
my fault that the conversation wanders among dry
political subjects."

" Nothing could be more interesting in this country,"
said an American lady. "You won our hearts by
appreciating our public affairs at a critical period, and
it is fitting, now you are among us, that we should
enjoy your counsel and criticism. We can always dis-
cuss society, the balls and the opera, the latest novels
and plays, or the more recent flirtations and engage-
ments ; but Prof. Conant is not always with us, to shed
light upon graver questions, and besides, they are fuller
of interest to us all than you imagine."

" Well, yes. If I were to write a book of my travels,
and describe all the startling incidents of my tour and
the accidents we have encountered, I think perhaps
some serious talks on popular subjects might be tolera-
ted as padding ; and besides its being instructive, my
story would be relieved by it."

" Yes, you ought to write such a work," urged Lady
Gouji^h. " I know you would speak racily of many
things and prosily of none ; not dwelling too long on
descriptions, and thus magnifying the author at the ex-
pense of the reader."

"When I send you an advance copy of my book,
you will see that your hints have been remembered,"
laughingly remarked the Professor.

II !

244

PROFESSOn CON A NT.

Fred Cuthbert had been, as usual, cno of the even-
ing's entertainments. " He is so full of good nature,
and so determined to please," said one of tlie ladies.
" And everything he says is so sparkling and piquant^
added another.

• " Do you think him a wit ? " asked a young officer,
who was half inclined to be piqued at the attention Fred
received from the ladies, or, as he put it more tersely,
at " the infernal noise he made."

" Oh, dear ! I am not a judge of wit," replied the lady
addressed, half startled at his tone ; " but what he does
and says is funny if it is not witty. His manner is so
droll, when he chooses, and all his hits are good-
natured and make us laugh. Don't you like him, Capt.
Strong?"

" Oh, immensely ! " was the latter's reply.

Fred had said some frivolous thing at the club that
afternoon which had been misunderstood, and ho
frankly apologized. He forgot the incident soon after,
but Capt. Strong remembered it. " These English-
men," he had remarked, " are churlish and unbearable."
There was nothing more of it then, but a year afterward
Fred would heap coals of fire on his head in London,
and he would tell Miss Alice in a mood of confidence
how much he admired her brother here, and how little
he had understood him in America. We shall violate
no confidence by informing the reader that the hand-
some young officer would not have said so much, but
that he and Miss Alice, with Fred's consent, had been
cultivating great interest in each other.

Robert and Tom had not been idle observers of the
evening s picture. They were accustomed to society,
to luxurious rooms and magnificent decorations, and

" TUE PEOPLE'S KINO IN AMEHICA:'

245

they were no strangers to the social elegance in which
they mingled ; but it did happen that they saw hero a
miin and there a woman blazing in diamonds and in
dress at once ill-fitting and extravagant, while they ex-
pressed eccentric views in a version of the English lan-
guage which Lindley Murray would never have recog-
nized. . .

" Wall, I done it once for them felicrs," said an old
Bonanza Politician in their hearing, " and I ain't agoin'
to do it agin."

"And 'tain't no kind o' use," said his pretty young
wife, whose diamonds fairly dazzled Tom. " They
don't know nothin' about society, and English folks is
kind o' pa'tic'lar, and wouldn't want 'em ; if 'twant that
you're a Politician, you might a run after him for a week
and Lord Gougli wouldn't 'ave asked 'em."

" And they ain't no ornament when they git here,"
said the husband haughtily.

" They're good but they ain't culteroil," added the
wife, " and I don't see Avliy we should carry 'em into
good society if they did vote for us. I guess they got
paid out o' that one hundred thousand dollars it cost."

" They'll be darned mad," said the Magnate appre-
hensively. '

" Well, let 'em," rejoined the woman, " you can buy

cm agm,

5»

Tom laughed and turned away. Democratic as he
was, it was too much even for Robert. " Who are
they ? " he asked a young attache at his side. ;

" They are a product of Anierican Democracy,"
replied the latter. " A rich mine, vulgar ambition, and
corruptible electors did it all. I know the old man
well ; he is pursuing a claim upon an estate in England,

ii I

I '•

-*;*,«»■. i«fi*--«'<3»irt'-4.':3»AW«v'«i*^

2^Q

PROFESSOR CONANT.

aud sometimes comes to talk to me about it. It cost
him a great deal to get here, but he has no idea of his
unfitness or his vulgarity. He says public life is a
great burden and expense, but he intends to reimburse
himself. He tells us that the lobbyists won't get much
out of him if they don't ' chalk up,' and if they arc
stingy, he'll * jine the anti-monopolists.' He is an acci-
dent ; there are not niivii^;, sucL men."

" One is enough," qnietlj^ observed Robert.

*' His position gives him the entree ; wo have to invite
such people now and then," said the attache. " His
pretty wife has friends among the newspapers, and
the British Lion would fare hard if she were slighted
by the British Minister. There are only two or three
such people here to-night. They are too feeble to per-
vert the ways of fashion. Everybody expects to meet
them and they disturb nobody."

" Oh, it's nothing strange," said Tom, " though the
language in such a place as this did startle one a little,
as the whole coarse broadside came down upon us.
Such a scene would be impossible in such surroundings
in England."

" Yes," observed Robert, " because the same class of
people would not be represented at all there, and it is
only politics anywhere which would throw a man of
this kind among such people, but probably twentj
years from now, or less, you may meet his sons as
educated gentlemen. Everybody votes in the United
States ; but in the United Kingdom a population of
thirty-five millions furnishes a constituency of only four
millions, because the poorest classes are not included.
That saves us some exhibitions of coarseness, though
pool' people are not always vulgar ; but what about tlio

«♦ THE PEOPLE'S KING IN AMERICA:'

247

iriterial prosperity ? Do you think the ignorant, un-
enfranchised poor in England contribute as much to
the national wealth as the peojile this old man repre-
sents do in America ? And don't you think the eleva-
tion of the poor, in the same way in England, would
create an element of national streugth there as it does
here ? The people, long degraded, may sometimes
stagger under new responsibilities, their backs unac-
customed and their muscles untrained. But depend
upon it, on our part, we might train them for citizenship,
and they, on theirs, might contribute vastly more to the
wealth and prosperity of the state."

" Oh, Holt," said a voice, " you are always finding
excuses for the Yankees and damning England with
faint praise ; you are like John Bright, a friend of
every country but his own."

" I have often thought myself," said Tom, *' that
Robert resembled Mr. Bright; but I don't think this
uncomplimentary to him."

The next morning the Professor received among his
callers several leading workingmen, who expressed
pride in his career ; and a deputation of colored citizens
signified their appreciation of his good work and their
hope that he might long be spared to pursue it.

To each of these deputations the Professor gave the
same advice : " Elevate your people ; educate your
children ; in no other way can you join the aristocracy
of intelligence, or enter the charmed circle of refine-
ment. You must study public questions. Ignorance
will be a barrier for all time, and in all countries. I do
not urge you to pursiie the difficult paths of profound
scientific and classical learning ; you have not perhaps
the time, the opportunity, nor the inclination. But you

Ml:l

^i^ssssBsmsamaaBm

248

PROFESSOR CONANT.

may have access to books, and all you need will be
found in these, if well selected. You may be poor, but
so Avere most of the lights of your country. What they
accomplished you may imitate with more or less suc-
cess ; and if you never cast a vote until jow. have studied
its consequences, nor support a measure till you under-
stand it, and believe it will work for your country* 's
good, you will follow the best examples and reach the
liighest rewards." He told the laboring men that
America was their paradise, and reminded their colored
brethren of the oceans of blood and treasure the nation
had expended for them. No record more glorious had
been written for any country, and no people more than
they ov/cd gratitude and fealty to their government.

" These noble sentiments will be recorded everywhere,
sir," said an enthusiastic son of toil, " and will endear
your name to the people. In the past few weeks you
have done more than any Englishman, since Chatharxi, to
win for the masses you represent tiie sympathies of the
workingmon of this country."

" "Would that the public men of both countries did
more such work as this," said Mr. Hoberts.

" It would be more than difficult to do it in the same
way," observed IMr. Burrows. " The people of this
country are now ripe for such lessons ; and Conant is
the man from whom they want to learn them."

" Witli such men to lead both countries," remarked
Mr. Winthrop, "we should become practically one
people."

" Do you think England is likely to go back to pro-
tection?" asked a rich manufacturer, who had been
waiting his chance.

" I do not," said the Professor.

''THE PEOPLE'S KING IK AMERICA.

2i9

vill be
or, but
at tbey

(SS SllC-

studied

under-
nintry's
sacli the
3n tliat

colored
e nation
ious bad
ore than
ffient.
rywbere,
11 endear
^eeks you
atbam, to

es of tbe

litrles did

J tbe same
|e of tbis
Jonant is

remarked
•ally one

[k to pro-
lad been

" We bear a good deal about fair trade."

" Yes, that lias been spoken of," was tbe reply.

" I suppose by fair trade they mean protection," said
tbe other.

" No doubt," said tbe Professor, " but they dare not
say so. I think that English people are free traders ;
we all know what they were in the last generation,
under the teachings of Cobden and Bright. But they
were instructed on a large scale then, and could all
give reasons for the hop" that was in them. The sub-
ject has not been much treated of late years in a popu-
lar way. Nearly all the writers on Political Economy
have be^n free traders, but their books did not reach
the people as did the literature of the great agitators
in Cobden's time. The masses of the present genera-
tion of Englishmen Lave not inucli studied the question.
There may come a wave of popular discontent, and
there may be extraordinary changes. We have be-
come so democratic now, and it is so hard to tell what
popular opinion is on abstract questions, till you have
counted the votes, that it is dangerous to prophesy.
Notwithstanding all, you may class England as a free-
trade country. We should be glad to say as much of
yours ; but we can afford to wait. The late Mr. Web-
ster was a free-trader in early life. Some of his finest
speeches defend that theory. When reproached for in-
consistency in after-life, he said in effect, * Yes, T advo-
cated free trade, and my State prospered under it. But
you forced us into a protective system, and now I strive
under that system to make the best terms posFuble for
lier.' I think he still believed in the old doctrine ; but
lam not here to provoke controversy, and we may each
prosper walking our separate ways."
11^

CHAPTEE XXI.

HOMEWARD BOUND.

They were all to take a quiet tea next evening with
Mrs. Eoberts, whom they found greatly improved,
though a touching sadness pervaded the house, and on
the morrow they left Washington for New York by an
early train, through Baltimore and Philadelphia, cities
which the Professor regretted to pass without a visit.
He was anxious also to visit Chicago and the great
West, but pressing cablegrams and letters admonished
him that he could not claim his own time further. So
he arranged to sail by the Wednesday steamer.

Professor Conant's occupations were henceforth en-
grossing, and ho was obliged in consequence to decline
all invitations. The night before he left, however, he
gave at his hotel a dinner, followed by a reception, which
was made a notable event in New York society.

Mr. Winthrop, and Dr. Elmwood and his niece were
among the guests. George declined an invitation,
though he wrote a kind, sad letter of farewell. The
uncle and niece were to leave for Boston by the early
morning train, and as the Professor said, his instruc-
tive visit to America would soon be over.

At the dinner the Professor was profuse in his ex-
pressions of gratitude for the welcome he had received,
and his guests wore warm and sympathetic as to the
pleasure his visit had given them.

HOMEWARD BOUND.

251

" It has been a month of unusual interest to us all,"
Dr. Elmwood observed, " and will be followed by happy
and far-reaching results."

Tom and Agnes had only a moment together, but
she reminded him of Carlotta's hurried visit next
week, and he promised for himself and Robert that
they would join them. Agnes reminded him that
Carlotta's friends were only seeking change for her,
and that nobody must know she was there. With the
near prospect of bidding adieu to his father, and with
the sad scenes which the name of Madame De Luynes
suggested, Tom was moody and ill at ease. He ex-
plained all this to Agnes, who admired him for his ten-
derness of heart, and told him so; and though their
parting was sad, each knew, without saying so, that the
other was nearer and dearer than ever before. So
the evening passed, and the great party serj,rated,
more like the members of a family saying farewell,
than like fashionable strangers who might never meet
again.

Next morning at breakfast, and just before the Pro-
fessor was leaving, he received a letter from Lord Les-
ter at Ottawa, expressing regret that he should not have
the pleasure of welcoming Dr. Conant at Government
House. "You ought to have come, if for nothing but
to show our people that they are within the range cf a
British statesman's sympathies." The letter continued,
"Your visit to the States, your sayings and doings, and
every incident of your stay on this side arc regarded by
us with tlie greatest interest. We all feel pride in your
success ; but, if I might take such a liberty with an old
friend, I would say that some of your compliments
might have been paid to your own colony. I fear this

!;: Ill ■

■"ttUS.TiC^^

252

PROFESSOR CO Is ANT.

pompous gallop on the Democratic liorse may raiso
hopes among the common people at home, which, as
your responsibilities increase, you will find it difficult
to gratify. But as we began to disagree at college, aad
have never been the worse friends for disagreeing, I sup-
pose we shall go on to the end, differing as to the best
way to govern, but always happy in our esteem for each
other. What else can I say but to wish you hon voyage,
my dear old friend, not only across the water, but
throughout your noble and laborious life, for I know
that you are going home to heavy work as well as to
high distinctions. As you are giving me the slip, how-
ever, I want your son to make a point of coming to see
me. I dare say wo can amuse him, and I shall give
him carte blanche to bring his friends."

" "What a gorgeous ass ! " said Fred. " He has been
sitting alone up there in the cold, till he is positively
jealous. Tho idea of his subjects being hurt because
you have said America is a great country ! Though I
do think it was a pity you could not go to Ottawa."

"Yes," said the Professor, "I have missed a great
deal, but I came here to take a rest."

" "Which you have not done," observed Tom.

" Wei], I should not have improved matters by taking
on double labor," remonstrated his father. " You must
write Lester, Tom, and visit him."

They drove to the wharf and found a number of
friends already aboard the steamer waiting to say
good-bye to Dr. Conant, and, as the boat steamed
slowly away, they sent after her hearty and repeated
cheers.

" God bless him i no has done good work here," cried
Mr. Douglas. , ., .;,.,..

^•^

HOMEWARD BOUND.

253

" And he goes home even better fitted to be a leader
of the people." n voice replied.

" Trust him, oh, my countrymen ! " said Eobert, " for
he dedicates a noble life to you ! "

Tom returned to his lodgings weary after a restless
night, and the still more restless excitement of the morn-
ing. His father was gone, to tempt again the perils he
had only lately escxped, and if he reached home safely,
which the son did not doubt, for he believed there was
still a great work for him to do — to re-enter the turmoil of
politics, under conditions which would make him a con-
spicuous and responsible figure. Tom knew how much
of domestic sacrifice this meant ; at another time his re-
grets would have been chiefly for his mother ; but to-
day he was worried and lonel}', and he felt that his father
was making a great personal sacrifice to the state.
"What would home be without him? " he asked him-
self, " and vet all his faculties will be absorbed now in
what they call higher work. Perhaps his love for us
will be as great, and his devotion as tender, but it will
be only an abstraction ; the living man will be occupied
and absorbed in public aff.iirs. To me he has been
everything, my father, my brother, and friend. There
was always a kind word and a leisure hour at my ser-
vice. I shall only know him now on the hustings, in
the newspapers, and in Parliament. He will be a dis-
tinguished statesman, and his head and his heart will be
enlisted in the work of his country. General Elmwood
spoke with pride of his two sons who fought by his
side. Why should not 1 fight by the side of my father?
He discourages me because he v/ould give me an easier
life. Have I no duties ? Would it be ignoble to throw
aside my profession of arms, and enlist under his bau-

254

PROFESSOR CONANT.

ner ? He says I have the necessary gifts, but advises
me to shun the hardships of public life. Why should I
shun work ? I am but a creature of society ; why might
I not do good, win honors, and perhaps carry forward the
prestige of my name ? I am not altogether ignorant of
men or of public affairs. There will be a dissolution.
Why not win a seat in the Commons? That would
afford me opportunity. Why not make a career ? But I
should require to imitate my father's industry, his hon-
esty, his devotion to duty. I could do that, and I might
fall far behind him in many things, and yet be the equal
of men who have been useful and famous." After a
pause, he added, " No, marriage would not retard my
career ; it would aid me. She is clever and good,
and would grace any position. But I must win her
first, and the way will then be open and clear before
me."

Tom fell asleep in his easy chair and dreamed that
he was at sea again. Far away, in a waste of waters, he
saw Agnes buffeting the waves and calling to him for
help. He was riveted to his chair by an unseen force.
He suffered agonies, but could neither move nor speak.
By-and-bye, a great white cloud gathered and rested
above the fainting and exhausted girl. Then the forms
of De Luynes and Miss Roberts emerged therefrom and
turned their smiling faces toward him. Agnes was
rescued and brought to his arms. He woke to find that
the grate was cold, and that a chilly blast was entering
the open window. . '

advises
ihould I
ly miglit
ward the
lorant of
solution,
it would
:? But I
, his hon-
d I might
the equal
Aiter a
•etard my
md good,
t wiu her
3ar before

\ CHAPTER XXII.

. • "THINE AND MINE."

Our friends had all been invited to spend a few days
with Mr. Douglas at Newport. Robert and Fred would
go, but Tom was too dull, he said, and wanted to com-
mune with himself a little. The custom was growing
to prolong the summer at the watering-places, and many
families still remained. The young men were favorites
m society, and saw life in new colors. Robert, as usual,
enjoyed it all in a quiet way, but Fred was as rollicking
and boisterous as ever. He was in search of pleasure
and it abounded ; he desired to please and he succeeded ;
his droll conceits amused his friends and his sunny dis-
position shone for all. " His nature seems changed,"
Holt wrote Tom; "we called him petulant, but his
good-nature is inexhaustible ; a cynic, but he never
snarls. He was to reform abuses, Jie used to tell us ;
but he has fallen in love with everything he came
out to condemn."

" Poor Fred," mused Tom, as he read this, " Robert
never understood him. His attempts at ill-nature were
always affectations, and since he has been here kind
feelings have been so much at high tide that he has
floated away from the old shoals ; and as for liking
what he sees here, all Englishmen will condemn
America less as they understand her better."

i ;u !!!'!

256

PROFESSOR CONANT.

No doubt ou. "-iontls were all disposed to see things
conlciir de '^ 'au'^s and misfortunes common to nil
countries were passing every day under their eyes ;
peculiar abuses and prevailing extravagances, such as
could ouly exist under a system of democratic rulo,
wore not unobserved. Some, or all, of these were open
to improvement, or perhaps, to be reformed altogether ;
all around them lay abundant work for the statesman
and the philanthropist. They criticised as they went,
but their criticism was more in sorrow than in anger ;
and they meant it to be just and fair. If they saw an
abuse, they asked could it not be remedied? If they en-
countered suffering, they looked for the means of relief.
Other critics, less fair, had fastened eagerly upon what-
ever they could unequivocally condemn. "Was there
vulgarity? Was there crime? Was there political
maladministration? Their Avork was done con amore,
and they saw none of the conditions Avhich might ex-
plain or extenuate the evils. But our travellers, like
Dr. Conant, noticed what they saw amiss, and they
studied the true cause and sought out the true remedy.
They had no prejudice against the government by the
people, and they hoped and believed the experiment
•would not fail.

Tom had spent nearly a week alone at his lodgings ;
his despondency was wearing away among the good old
books lie had been reading, many of whose ideas wore
fresh to him, and dozens of whose heroes had undergone
greater trials than had befallen him. Ho had just re-
ceived a hurried letter from Agnes, which announced the
arrival of the De Luyncs the day before. Of the party
there were, she said, Madame De Luynes, Ethel Lytton,
and the baby, and they were accompanied by Gustave

" THINE AND MINE.*'

257

ant by tlie
xperiment

Lamotlio, who would only remain a day longer, and had
taken lodgings at the hotel. Carlotta was still improv-
ing. It was touching to see her habited in deep mourn-
ing. She was all grace and loveliness, but so frail, that
a breath mi^ht blow her away. Uncle Horace took a
deep interest in her sad story, and she seemed to turn
to him as if for rest and help. George had greeted
Ethel like an old friend, and seemed to be his old self
again. She, dear girl, was stronger and more cheerful,
and then the baby came in for a paragraph of tender
caresses. Mr. Gustave Lamothe, she said, was last
but not least, for she liked him. Ethel had told her
lie was a man of great worth, and had been, not only the
cousin, but the most trusted friend, of poor Maurice De
Luynes. He seemed worthy of all that ; and Agnes want-
ed Tom to know him, because he should knovr all good
people. " After all," she continued, " he is not half so
good as somebody I know, who shall be nameless, and why
should I care ? Ah, but I do ! there must be a reason,
do you know it ? And I have never explained it even to
you. To-day some ladies called on Madame De Luynes,
but they were told she did not receive. I hope that
will finish the callers. But she joins us all in wishing
to see you and Mr. Holt ; she spoke of him much to-
day, as she fondled little Ethel. * Dear Robert Holt,*
she said passionately, ' where would my darling have
been now but for you ? ' And now I must close, and
you will come at once, won't you ? Uncle says you
should take the morning train. Dear good Uncle
Horace I ho has promised to spend the week at home,
and help to entertain my friends. Is he not kind ? "

" Is he disinterested," thought Tom, but he was alone,
and said nothing. " Horace Winthrop is still a young

lIlM h

.^i If

li i

258

PROFESSOR CONAKT.

man," ho went on musing, " full of poetry and of a fas-
cinating presence. His liigli position and his great
gifts should not tell against him. The human heart is
unfathomable. Is it true that sometimes great bereave-
ments dispose us to new friendships, and that, as time
passes, these ripen into tenderness ? " Robert, he was
sure, would meet him in Boston next day.

Tom rose the next morning full of new purposes in
life. He thought he saw the way, and he had already
written his father ; he knew the Professor would not jDor-
sistontly dissuade him, if ho was really in earnest. He
knew, too, if he decided to go to work, it was because
he would have a helpmeet who would profit by his ex-
ertions. That Agnes loved him, he never doubted,
though she had never told him so ; she knew his love,
and she encouraged it with her innocent and girlish
ways, but when he was serious, she parried his ques-
tions ; yet he had not dreamed he could live without
her or that she expected him to do so. Perhaps their
lives had run too smoothly and their intercourse had
been too unrestrained for the exercise of exaggerated
romantic feeling. He expected her to take her seat at
his side in the new English life he was proposing, and
he knew she would comfort him with her love, and sus-
tain him with her sympathy and good sense. They
were both young, would it be wise to delay ? Not as
Tom accounted wisdom. Agnes "Winthrop was his idol
and his ideal. Without her he could not live, and witli
her all things would be possible.

Absorbed with such thoughts he journeyed to Boston
alone, and arrived at Mr. Winthrop's in time for dinner,
where he found only the De Luynes and Holt. Agnes
welcomed him in high spirits ; all their friends were so

" THINE AND MINE."

259

■)f a fas-
is great
lieart is
boreavo-
, as time
b, lie was

rposes in
lI already
1 not per-
Liest. He
,s because
by his ex-
doubted,
ST his love,
nd girlish
his ques-
jQ without
baps their
course had
s.aggerated
her seat at
)Osing, and
e, and sus-
Lse. They
■ ? Not as
as his idol
, and with

to Boston
[for dinner,
j)lt. Agnes
ids were so

much improved, she said, and George and Ethel had
just returned from a drive. Madame De Luynes's wel-
come was sad but cordial, and as she went into dinner
on the Senator's arm, Tom thought he liad never seen
more sweetness and grace. "I have just met your
friend, Mr. Cuthbert, on the street," said Agnes ; " he
has been staying with my uncle in Bloomfield a day or
two, and they came up to the city together. I ventured
so far to relax a certain rule as to ask them to call in
the morning, and Madame De Luynes has forgiven me,"
she added, smiling.

" Yes," explained Robert, " he tired of Newport, and
went to pay a promised visit to Bloomfield."

" Queer," said Tom, " I did not know of his promise."

" I dare say my cousin will make it jolly for him,"
observed Agnes, " and he is sure to make it pleasant for
them all."

They were interrupted by the laughter of little Ethel
who made her way to Robert's knee. His face wore a
look of triumph, and everybody Lad compliments for
the child. The conversation was at first quiet and re-
strained, and each feared the suggestion of painful
tlioughts, till Gustavo inadvertently replied to some
observation in French, and then the others all followed
his example, and the good old English was banished for
the evening.

Tlie Senator understood the language, he said, yet
from want of practice he was not an expert talker ; but
Gustave declared his pronunciation was perfect, and
Madame De Luynes observed that all he said he said
well.

'' Oh ! you are a nation of flatterers," the Senator
said laughingly; but the diversion relieved the re-

b m III I

iiiii'

I m

2G0

PROFESSOR CONANT.

straints, and tho conversation was once more lively and
general.

Madame Do Lujmes recalled her school days in Bos-
ton, and inquired for her eorly friends, and Mr. Win-
tlirop gave charming pictures of Boston life and man-
ners twenty years ago. He spoke of his home and
his work in Washington, of society there, its elegance
and its eccentricities. There was magnetism in his
manner, and grace and humor in his descriptions.
Eobert delivered himself of his impressions of New-
port, which Avere pleasant, and ho spoke of the great
kindness he had received from many cultivated people
there. What struck him unfavorably, he said, was that
some of the people of great wealth seemed engarred in
a struggle as to who could display the greaiast number
of ducats in the most ostentatious and extravagant
style.

Tom and Agnes remarked to each other that George
i»'id Miss Lytfcon were speaking English, but as they
raade no accusations the offence was not noticed, and
the fact has not been established to this day. Gustave
was a good talker and took an active share in the con-
versation.

" Canada affords peculiar facilities for acquiring the
French language. I have wondere d that Americans do
not more generally patronize our schools. For such
a purpose they are as good and more convenient than
those of France and Germany." Miss Lytton suggested
that many Catholic children were sent to Canada from
the States.

" And do you think tliat but for religious difference
more Protestants would study tho language there ? "

" It may be so. But the chief cause is to be found

it,"

adej

sity)

All

resj

othf

him I

^.■ni^:-!^ -

"■■''^.l.

Vm ■•

.,**^

" THINE AND MINE:*

261

Ly and

a Sos-
•. Win-
1 inan-
me and
leganco
in liis
iptions.

le great
. people
was that
Tarred in
; number
;ravagant

t George
as tliey

iced, and
Gustave
the con-

liring tlie

ericans do

[ror sncli

lient than

I suggested

[nada from

difference

here ? "
be found

in the "belief which prevails more or less in this country
that the French in Canada speak and write a patois"

" Ah. ! we are provincials, of course, but they have
these in France, and they differ in their pronunciation.
The Greek has dialects, but we have not corrupted la
helle langue. Do you remember that our young Poet
Laureate received an ovation from his countrymen in
r,ew England the other day ? Well, during his brilliant
speech, he apostrophized the native-born American, and
alluded especially to this subject. He had just at-
tained high literary distinction, and had lately published
two additional collections of poems for which ho had beo^^
crowned by the French Academy — an honor, I believe,
not hitherto conferred upon any other American. He
said : * There is a class of people who would teach you
that French can only be spoken in Paris, or by those
who have been educated there. I would not sound my
own praises, but I must meet slander with truth. I
never studied in France ; I was educated at the Quebec
Seminary, and 1 speak and write French as it was taught
me there. I offer you the opinion of the French Acad-
emy which recognized merit in my works, and honored
me, an humble Canadian poet and student, against the
teachings of those wlio would disparage the literature
and the scholarship of my native land.' Depend upon
it," Gustave continued, "tliat Harvard is not more
adept in the graces of the English than is the Univer-
sity of Laval in the belles lettres of her mother tongue.
All the conditions are so different that it is only in this
respect I should dare institute a comparison."

He gave his ideas upon the opera, the drama and
other subjects of more or less practical interest. To
him orator^ was the highest gift, and music the most

!i II!":

262

PROFESSOR CONANT.

divine art ; but sometimes, lie said, the great masters
failed to impress liim, while humbler performers often
enthralled him. He thought humor an outcome of
genius, and wit a scintillation from a higher life. He
related how, years before, he had loitered alone in the
streets of Boston, and had wandered aimlessly into the
Boston Museum. Poor John Brougham was producing
an Irish character, which was new to him. He had no
doubt the piece was now forgotten. He could not re-
call either the incidents or its name ; but partly, per-
haps because it was good, and it may be chiefly because
his mood was propitious, he had all the time been con-
vulsed with laughter, and had never enjoyed a play
more.

When the ladies were about to withdraw, the Senator
asked permission to waive ceremony and accompany
them, and they passed the evening cosily in the little
parlor like a quiet family, at peace with themselves and
the world.

Next morning Gen, Elmwood, with his daughter and
Fred, came, and Agnes noticing their hilarity bade the
young people remember in whose presence they wore.
They promised obedience, but Fred seemed to treat the
restraint as an excuse for closer communion, and they
consequently did not lose sight of each other. The
General was full of the glories of the exhibition, which
was being held in the city, and to which he was again
hastening, and the house continued as quiet as it had
been the day before. Tom had spoken seriously tc
Agnes; she was not indifferent to his overtures, but
they were young and they could wait, she said.

" Do you love me, Agnes ? "

" Yes, with all my heart and soul," was the reply.

^^'¥

''THINE AND MINE."

263

Qasters
:s often
!ome of
e. He
e in the
into tlie
oducing
) had no
not re-
:tly, per-
• because
)een con-
i a play

3 Senator
^company
the little
ielves and

Thter and
r bade the
ihey were.
3 treat the
, and they
ler. The
ion, which
was again
as it had
,riously tc
ftures, but
id.

reply.

What could he do? What did he do? That after-
noon Mr. Winthrop had given his consent. " She is too
young," he had said to Tom. " But your father and I
have spoken of the matter, and I am acting for him as
well as for myself. Agnes is the apple of my eye, Capt.
Conant ; but I don't fear to give her to you."

" May God so deal with me as I shall deal with her,"
said Tom with emotion.

He caught her in his arms ; " My darling," was all
he uttered, and she, permitting his embraces, whispered,
"Thine and Mine ! " From that hour Tom Conant and
Agnes Winthrop were to be all and all to each other.
It was arranged that Tom would return to England and
come back for her in the summer ; but the engagement
was to be a secret until after the holidays.

Presently the young couple sought the seclusion of
the park, where they were alone among hundreds
of people. For a time they were too selfish in their
happiness to care for the presence of others. Lan-
guage to them was no longer a symbol of ideas, and
tliey made scant use of it. The vocabulary of love is
not made up of spoken words ; a look, a pose, a smile,
a pressure of the hand may express unnumbered lights
and shades of passion. Words of endearment were too
faint and expressionless to paint their deep and over-
powering attachment. They had just entered a new
Hfe, a paradise of bliss, a revelation, a beatitude ; they
did not for the time understand that others had been
there before, and that still others would follow them.
If he called her, " my darling," and she responded " my
love," what were these b'lt common words which all the
world had used ? Theirs was a grand exceptional pas-
sion. There was no other man like Tom to love, and no

! i

III 111
'ti II

264

PROFESSOR CONANT.

i- ^

^li

other woman like Agnes to love in return, and yet these
raptures must consume themselves and they must see
the world moving about them. ^:

Let the artist who copied the sunbeam portray the
rhapsodies of love, and leave us the simpler jDleasure of
wishing God-speed to the young lovers I

"So the multitude goes, like the ilowci- or the weed
That withers away to let others succeed.
So the multitude comes, even those we behold.
To repeat every tale that has often been told."

Tom was to write at once to his father and mother the
joyful news wuich they were both expecting ; and Agnes,
who remembered to have met Lord Lester in London,
would try and persuade Uncle Horace and George to
accompany her on her visit to his Lordship in Canada.
George she thought would go, if Eihel could be induced
to join them. Tom took the hint and pron:ised to do
his best to bring about this arrangement.

Meantime our prudent young lovers had permitted no
word of their new and happy relation to escape them ;
but perhaps if the others had been less absorbed, signs
might have been detected ; as it was the day passed and
the night fell without any suspicion among Mr. Win-
thiop's guests that unusual events were transpiring.
Only George knew, and he seemed almost gay in his
congratulations.

" I think I could have loved you before Agnes, Tom,"
said George, " if I had seen you as soon as she did. I
began to love you from the day you set your foot here.
Such things must happen, only it is hard to lose my
little sister. But even yet I may take my revenge," he
continued ; " and I shall find compensation in a big

st these
LUst see

)ray tlie
isure of

Dtlier tlie
id Agnes,
London,
ieorge to
1 Canada,
e induced
^sed to do

mitted no
ipo them ;
bed, signs
assed and

Mr. Win-
lanspiring.

ay in liis

5»

les, Tom,

llie did. I

foot liere.

|o lose my

Ivenge," lie

in a big

" THINE AND mine:

265

brother. Take my blessing," he added, resting a hand
upon each, *' and as for you, dear Agnes, may your joys
be as boundless as your brother's love."

" Oh, if you were happy, George ! " she said, nestling
close to his bosom.

" I dare not hope too much, little one, but it may
come sooner than you dream."

George went to the library in answer to a message
from his uncle, who awaited him there. " I have given
our little Agnes away, George," said Mr. Winthrop in a
tremulous voice.

" They have told me all, and you have done right,"
replied George. " She will leave us next summer. Tom
was impatient of delay, but Agnes must study another
year. It will all be over soon enough now."

" Yes, and ours will be a lonely house," observed his
uncle. " You ought to marry, my boy."

George was silent.

Mr. Winthrop continued, "You have suffered, but with
your temperament you should marry young ; and you
may even profit by the discipline of disappointment.
The companionship of a good woman will be the sheet-
anchor of your life ; without it you may grow morose
and misanthropic."

" This from you, sir? " inquired George.

" You allude to the great mistake of my life," observed
the uncle.

" It is not too late to correct it," rejoined George.
" You are not old, and you have all the qualities that
should make a good woman happy."

" We will speak of my own case later," remarked Mr.
Winthrop, "but I have lately dreamed of conditions
which may in time render my case even hopeful ; the ex-

liii

W' 11

III

m t:^

r:^^ ii

('•■I

266

PROFESSOR CONANT,

ample of dear little Agnes may make us a marrying
family ; but yours is more pressing ; the prize is within
your reach and should be appreciated." ^■

" I know what you mean," returned George ; " my posi
tion is equivocal; but, believe me, I am not indifferent. "

" Your position will not distress a true woman ; she
will not love you less on account of your lost love.
Any woman knows that

«i(«B*

"A stricken heart which loves anew
May be more tender and more true,"

Gustave, pressed by engagements, was about to take
his leave, and it was arranged that Madame De Luynes
would return to Quebec, accompanied by Tom's party,
on a visit to Lord Lester. Tom had received a cable
from home, announcing his father's safe arrival, his find-
ing all well, and that important letters would follow by
mail. The week flew past like a happy dream to the
young people and the hour of Carlotta's departure was at
hand. They were all to go with her as far as Montreal,
a common point in their journey, and from thence
George and Robert would escort Mme. De Luynes to
Quebec, the others ascending the river to Ottawa.

Ottawa is a prettily situated town on the river of that
name, having some beautiful natural scenery, a com-
manding position, and distinguished by a magnificent pile
of pfublic buildings, of the Gothic style of architecture.

Government House, Lord Lester's residence, is situ-
ated in a fine park, some two miles from the town, but the
residence is only remarkable because the Queen's rep-
resentative lives there. It is long, low and rambling, and
has been made up piecemeal as ihe growing import-
ance of what has been miscalled Canada's court-life

" TniNE AND mine:'

267

expanded and required further accommodations ; but
it has witnessed gay scenes and magnificent entertain-
ments under the patronage of quasi-royal forms and
caremonies. A former Governor, whoso successes in life
have been remarkable, made the place distinguished for
its princely hospitalities, and for the genial qualities
and rare gifts of its temporary incumbent. More than
any previous Governor he had endeared himself to his
guests and to the people, while his lovely Countess lent
grace and fascination to the scenes. As the successor
of such an incumbent, Lord Lester's task was difficult,
but ho had proved equal to his work, while his august
wife, bearing a sweet presence and a great name, added
lustre to his administration.

The Parliament of the Dominion had been called
early this year, and would be re-opened on the morrow
by the Governor in person. The night before the open-
ing, His Excellency annually gave a great dinner, to
which his Ministers and Privy Councillors and the
great officers of State were invited. Of course the din-
ner would take place that night, and Tom and his
friends who had been invited, modestly asked permis-
sion to decline, as, being strangers, they would feel
themselves out of place at a great state dinner ; but
they were told by the aide-de-camp in waiting that they
must accept the invitation in deference to i,he wishes
of Her Excellency, who had requested that cereofcony
should be waived in their favor.

The old house was en fete under the gas-light, and its
tasteful decorations made the scene a gay one. As
they entered the great dining-hall, Tom noticed that
there were covers for a large party, and that no ladies
were present ; but he was told thajt the wives and

Vx !•;

ill III

iiil 11!

11,' : n

\- '-"'' iV*

.--^

268

mOFESSOli CON ANT.

daughters of tlie ministers and other guests would
arrive later in the evening. A fine band discoursed
music at a convenient distance, and a Highland piper
now and then strolled majestically round the table, and
contributed to swell the melodies.

It was a goodly company ; the varied uniforms and
decorations blended prettily, and it was all more like
"home" than anything Tom had seen in America.
" Poor De Luynes," he thought, " should have had a
place among these magnates. I wonder which of them
all does not at heart, though he may bask in the favor
of the men who crushed Maurice, cherish the doctrines
for which they proscribed him ? "

There sat next to Tom a civil servant, an intelligent
man who had been a Member of Parliament, and who
seemed disposed to be sociable. They discussed the
civil service, which Tom thought nearly perfect in
England ; but his neighbor only thought it better as it
was farther removed from politics.

" But your civil service is not political, is it ? " in-
quired Tom.

" Theoretically, no," was the reply ; " but I suppose
the incumbents generally owe their position to politics."

" Yes, thoy are all appointed ou the recommendation
of Ministers, no doubt," said Tom ; " but the system is
different here from that in the States."

"To this extent — we appoint for life."

"Are there ever dismissals for political reasons? "

" Such reasons would not be avowed,' replied the
other cautiously. " But there are advantages in having
the sympathy of the strong side, and disadvantages
in being known to have sprung from the weak one.
Suppose I had been appointed by the last government,

THINE AND MINE:'

269

.L 11 i»

it would be a mirocle if I should get favors from tlie

present."

" That seems hard," observed Tom ; " I should not
think Lester would permit it. A great deal was ex-
pected at home from liis administration here."

" Pardon mo if I say," said his ii*iend, " that there is
misapprehension at homo about the fun(3tions of the
Queen's representative here. It is common to read in
the leading journals of Lord So-and-So's (meaning the
Governor's) successful administration in Canada. I do
not discuss his constitutional powera, but if they gave
him the right to mould the policy of his administration,
it has fallen into disuse. Practically speaking, His Ex-
cellency is a figure-head ; the government is that of his
Prime Minister. Once in a while, if there happens to
bo friction, we hear of the Governor's constitutional
powers ; but in moulding a policy, any power he is
supposed to have, is exercised so seldom that our
people have forgotten that he possesses any, or that it
amounts to much."

" Ho is one of tho estates of the realm," said Tom.

" Yes, and as such he assents to bills, replies to ad-
dresses, and entertains by giving dinners and balls."

" Then, why not abolish the office ? " Tom persisted.

" Because it is almost the last remnant of Imperial
connection," was the significant reply. "We love Eng-
land because we sprang from her and she fostered us ;
but year by year our relations have grown anomalous
and illogical. Our people will not listen to the truth,
and you Englishmen are too busy to consider it. But
there would be an awakening if we should elect our
Governor some day."

"This is plain talk from headquarters," Tom thought.

III.

ill

llMi.

!!:■!,:

I (. '"I

!■ -'■ i!ii

li:''''it

270

PROFESSOR CONANT.

" One wonders to what extent this gentleman represents
Canadian opinion. Oh ! if there were an enchantment
to disclose what the people want, what public opinion
is, or will be, at a given time, what statesmen we might
all become, and how many ruthless political disappoint-
ments might be avoided ! "

When dinner was over and they had all sought the
drawing-room, they found a largo number of ladies and
gentlemen, guests who had been bidden to come later
in the evening, together with the ladies of the house-
hold, mingling among them. Her Excellency was in
earnest conversation with Miss "Winthrop. She sig-
nalled Tom to approach them.

"You can help us," said my lady. "Miss "Winthrop
is trying to explain to me your late dreadful experiences
at sea." Tom answered her questions respectfully, and
at length she complained of cold, and picking up a bit
of wood from the corner in which she was standing she
cast it into the grate as unconcernedly as though it had
been the business of her life. She asked Tom if he
liked the country, and remarked that she had herself
been very fond of it since she came to it. Her physi-
cians, however, had found it too cold for her health,
and the newspapers had construed her absence into
dislike. They had done her a great injustice, and she
hoped her friends would everywhere contradict the
story on her authority.

Mr. Winthrop enjoyed an evening's conversation on
favorite topics with charming people, and Fred told of
a high dignitary who had been polite to him, but was
very rude to Lindley Murray. The dignitary in ques-
tion had adopted a very aristocratic and exclusive tone,
and had told him that he always regretted the Liberals

"TniNE AND MINE."

271

■esents
itment
►pinion
I miglit
ppoint-

glit tlie

Lies and

no later
house-
was in

She sig-

/inthrop
)eriences
uUy, and
up a bit
.ding she
jh it had
oni if lie
d herself
|or ipliysi-
health,

nee into
\, and she

,dict the

Isation on

3d told of

but was

in ques-

[sive tone,

Liberals

coming into power, not on account of politics, but be-
cause it gave vulgar people the entree to society, add-
ing, with a confidential shake of his head, " I seen it
much degraded thereby."

" He shall offset our Washington friend," observed
Tom to Mr. Winthrop.

" He was more pretentious but not less vulgar,'* Fred
continued. "He spoke to me of his daughters, and
presented me to them. Would you believe it, they are
not only pretty, but accomplished girls. I was curious
to know about the father, and found he had laid the
foundation of his fortune by keeping a corner grocery
in one of the large towns."

"That explains his relation to politics," remarked
Mr. Winthrop, " and clears his way to the Senate,
no doubt. He would pass with you as p. licensed
victualler. No doubt the young ladies have been well
trained and illustrate the Professor's hopes for the
second generation."

"We meet most desirable acquaintances in both
countries ; there is no need to leave home to find
vulgar people," said Tom.

" You are already beginning to feel the responsibility
for your associates, Capt. Conant," said Fred, with a
mischievous grin ; " perhaps you won't be the only
fellow with an American wife."

Mr. Winthrop laughed, Tom whistled, and they all
thought it was time to retire.

Next morning there was a cable from Dr. Conant in
these words : " If letter serious come home at once."
"Which means," explained Tom to Lord Lester, "that
if I have really determined to stand for the Commons,
I ought to return and go to work "

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272

PROFESSOR CONANT.

There were but three days now to catch the outward-
bound steamer, and they all understood that there was
no time to lose ; so the same afternoon saw them de-
parting, Tom for England, and Agnes, as she told him,
for her great, lonesome Boston home. Both Kobert
and Fred Cuthbert were to remain longer in America,
but Tom sailed for home alone.

tward-
sre was
jm de-
Ld him,
Bobert
merica,

CHAPTER XXII.

THE BEinSH LION FONDLES THE PROFESSOR.

We must take a three months' vacation now, though,
meantime, the world will move, and some things of
interest to us will happen. Politics had been running
high in England ; there was a popular clamor against
the Ministry, and a wide-spread demand for conces-
sions ; all the by-elections had lately gone against the
Government. "It never rains but it pours." The
health of the Prime Minister had been seriouslv af-
fected, and the story of his early resignation was
bruited about and believed. There were the usual
intrigues and party defections ; opposing interests were
on the alert ; rival factions were pushing extreme claims,
and the nation was aglow with excitement, or appre-
hensive of impending danger. There was no real
leadership, and the claims of personal aspirants were
hotly discussed. Dr. Conant, who had hitherto stood
well in the country, was now the idol of the laboring
classes ; public meetings were everywhere held to pro-
mote this or to denounce that set of opinions, and the
kingdom resounded with the eloquence of local orators
and budding statesmen.

In other countries such unwonted heat might have

generated an explosion ; but these Englishmen, arrayed

for contest as they were, would fight their bitter battles

at the polls. When victory was declared, or defeat
12*

11 ii

274

PROFESiSOR CONANT.

assured, they would for tlie time accept the result as
inevitable. A less stolid or more mercurial people
might have persisted in agitation and precipitated dis-
aster, but the English understood constitutional govern-
ment, and they knew that majorities must rule. The
Government were not indifferent spectators. They had
asked for a dissolution; but it had been denied them.
The people shouted for reconstruction and an amended
policy, until finally Lord Bramley, broken in health and
spirits, resigned. The great Whig, Lord Elton, was
sent for by the Sovereign, and undertook t^ie duty of
forming a new Government, but his duties and his dif-
ficulties began together. He had given an unpopular
Irish vote, and the Radicals dreaded his too conserva-
tive leanings. Finally, after a week of ineffectual effort,
he abandoned the task as hopeless, and recommended
that Dr. Conant be called. The masses were already
demanding this, but for reasons, perhaps connected
with the American trip, the advice was at first un-
heeded. After other trials and further delays, and
still greater excitement, Professor Conant was sent
for and accepted the high duty, on condition that a
dissolution should take place.

There was a coolness at first among the more conserv-
ative Whigs, but, barring this, the popular enthusiasm
knew no bounds ; and his administration was formed
without difficulty. The dissolution that followed, and
the Prime Minister who appealed to them, were what
the people demanded. It was a long struggle between
mighty forces. But the popular star was in the ascend-
ant, and the Government was sustained by an immense
majority.

The new Parliament was distinguished for a large in-

THE BRITISH LION FONDLES THE PROFESSOR. 275

lult as

people

3d clis-

joverii-

'. Tlie

ey liad

. tliem.

nended

,1th and

311, was

duty of

his dif-

popular

onserva-

al effort,

imended
already
nnected

first un-

ays, and
as sent
1 that a

conserv-
Ithusiasm
Is formed
)wed, and
rere what
between
le ascend-
immense

largo in-

fusion of young men, and a well-known North-of-Eng-
land County had returned our old friends. Col. Lyons
and Capt. Tom Conant. -

" Tom," his father said, " had developed into a won-
derful stump orator, thanks, perhaps, to his recent visit
to the States." At any rate, he liad been indefatigable,
and was prepared to enjoy the rest and triumph which
followed liis victory.

Parliament was immediately summoned, and the
speech contained propositions which the enemies of tlie
Government pronounced startling, but which were, gen-
erally regarded as wise by the supporters of the Prime
Minister, and were especially satisfactory to the Radi-
cals. Caution and Conservatism are generally cultiva-
ted by the English people ; but with their minds once
fixed upon accomplishing progressive changes, they un-
dertake the work with vigor, and with a confidence in
the masses which is not often misplaced. Capt. Thomas
Conant, as a young member, was to move the resolu-
tions on which would be founded the address in reply
to tlie Speech from the Throne. Nobody ever expects
anything from the orator on such occasions. He fol-
lows a conventional form, and his style, to be orthodox,
should be prosy and spiritless. The reply itself is
usually an echo of the Speech from the Throne, and
the mover and seconder follow the text without
originality or amplification. In the first part of his
speech Capt. Conant followed this rule in a tremulous
voice and was supported by conventional cheers ; but
as he came to topics of interest his words began to
ring out upon the Chamber, and he spoke like an en-
thusiast who believed what he said. " It is a glorious
privilege," Tom said, " to sit in this hall and legislate

l::'!i i

I i>

!:!■ <4.

276

PROFESSOR CONANT.

1,1

for a great people. We are the successors of former
Parliaments, iu a long line and from the earliest days,
which had moulded the policy and guided the destiny
of the kingdom. To say that we have grown more
wealthy and powerful, that the country is more free and
the people are better informed than in the days of their
ancestors, is speaking only the truth, and paying a
just compliment to the liberty and progress which the
British Constitution has gradually developed. Some
people profess to be alarmed at the larger liberties
which the Speech from the Throne proposes should be
secured for the people ; and in prophesying anarchy
and revolution as a consequence of such concessions,
they are but repeating the tactics of those obstruc-
tionists who, from age to age, as privilege has been
gradually restricted and freedom enlarged, have made
themselves prophets of evil, and foretold consequences
which Iiave never followed reform. Which of those
ameliorations of the people's condition has been sig-
nalized by the people's abuse of the power given them?
Which of the steps would you retrace that you have
taken toward a nearer Democratic rule ? Your confi-
dence is in the rich," he said, his eyes resting on the
Opposition benches. " You dread the masses as if they
were the enemies of the State, but as history records
our national troubles, can you fairly say that the great
body of the people has been less loyal and devoted
than the aristocratic and privileged classes upon which
you prefer to depend ? By multiplying their liberties
you have made the masses an element of strength.
Then why should we dread, in the light of such experi-
ence, these further concessions ? " (A voice derisively :
" Oh, America is the land of liberty.") " I am not

ormer
3 days,
lestiny
, more
■ee and
3f their
lying a
icli the
Some
liberties
Lould be
anarchy
cessions,
obstruc-
las been
,ve made
equences
of those
,een sig-
in them ?
on have
lur confi-
Lg on the
las if they
y records
the great
devoted
(on which
liberties
strength,
-h experi-
erisively :
|l am not

TEE BRITISE LION FONDLES TEE PROFESSOR. 277

sure," continued Capt. Conant, " that, barring the fact
that her franchise is more extended, America is a freer
country than ours ; but this proposition of the Govern-
ment will tend to equalize whatever difference there is.
I have seen nothing in America, let me tell this House,
to compensate for the tyranny which a four years'
Presidential term of hostile estates might render pos-
sible. In this country, or in Canada, the power of the
executive would be measured by its ability to con-
trol the popular branch of the Legislature; the bal-
ances are adjusted to a delicate touch, and the Govern-
ment must fall the moment it ceases to command a
majority. In Washington, the power of the President
is assumed for a definite term. It is only incidentally
that the people could reach their President during his
term of oflS.ce, even if he were in open or flagrant op-
position to their views, as expressed by their represent-
ativeb." (An honorable member: "It is a relief to
know that there is something to criticise in America.")
Capt. Conant — " There are wise men in America who
court criticism and understand the abuses of their po-
litical system. There are others, no doubt, who, perhaps,
like the honorable gentleman, believe that 'nothing
good can come out of Nazareth ; ' but the fact remains
that the teachings of American history enlighten and
guide us, and that we in England are wisely borrow-
ing from the store of American experience. I hope
I did not detect a sneer in the interruption of the hon-
orable gentleman. England and America have to teach
each other lessons of liberty. Only the enemies of
both countries could gloat over the embarrassments of
either. Their people, mindful of the perils which in
other times have overtaken liberty, should stand man

i'liii

•

|!: Idlll

278

rilOFESSOE CONANT.

till

to man for her defense, and should treat as a public
enemy the incendiaries of either country, who would
sow dissensions amoug tliem." Tom continued, pass-
ing on to other topics, but this episode wo have men-
tioned i^leased the House, whose enthusiasm was ex-
pressed in repeated cheers, and finally, when Capt.
Conant resumed his seat, the manifestations of satisfac-
tion wore abundant, and several old members crossed
the floor to compliment him heartily. He had scored a
point, which it is not often the privilege of young mem-
bers to do. He had moved the reply to a Queen's
Speech, and, in any event, the journals would treat him
to the conventional encomium the next morning, but he
had done more ; during the greater part of his speech
he had been really eloquent ; and he had gained what is
tantamount to success in public life, — he had won the
fastidious ear of the English House of Commons.

The Prime Minister made no attempt to disguise his
interest and his emotion ; for the moment, the father's
heart gave way in the august presence of the nation,
and his friends said he had not only consecrated his
own life to the State but was giving a son, who was
worthy of him, to her service.

Tom did not fail to measure his own success, but his
first thought was for a little girl who was thinking of
him far across the water. Could she know instinctively
of this first triumph in his public life ? Could he allow
her to wait the slow course of the mail before she knew
that the success she coveted for him had been won? It
was the first step in his career. He was not an egotist,
but he had triumphed, and he was in love. It must
have been at his suggestion that the following cable-
gram was sent :

HI i

public
would
i, pass-
B men-
svas ex-
i Capt.
atisfac-
crossed
cored a
ig mem-
Queen's
•eat liim
5, but lie
, speech
[ wbat is
won the
as.

^uise his
) father's
3 nation,
•ated his
who was

lUE BRITISH LION FONDLES THE PliOFESSOR 279

"House op Commons, London.
" Senator Wintlirop,

*' Boston, Mass. :

" For Miss Winthrop.

" Tom's maiden speech a great success.

**Alexandeu Conant."

s, but his
inking of
tinctively
I he allow
she knew
won ? It
LB egotist,
It must
ing cable-

CHAPTER XXIV.

GATHERING IN THE THREADS.

In the quiet of a Sunday morning breakfast, the
Conants were speaking of the events of the past week.
Tom described his diffidence at opening on the night of
his speech. "At first you might have heard my heart
beat, and seen my knees knock together," he said ; " but
that I felt as if I enjoyed a little official protection, be-
cause I was replying to the Boyal speech, I might have
failed."

" You did not fail," said his father ; " some parts of
your speech were very able. But your triumph con-
sisted in showing that you can do better. You must
not speak again till you are thoroughly master both of
your subject and the occasion. The House listened
and applauded to-day. You won its ear. You must do
not only as well but a great deal better next time, and
then you will have won your spurs."

" Thanks for your kind opinion," said Tom ; " I will
do my best."

Quiet Mrs. Conant was happy, but she was not proud ;
of course, distinctions were worth winning, and it was
yet nobler to do good. But she had given her husband
to the public service, and sometimes she pined for the
old days when she saw him more and before he was so
absent and absorbed. Was it her duty to give her son
too, or would he be not so much lost to her ?

QATHERINO IN THE THREADS.

281

at, the
3 week,
iglit of
Y heart
; "but
on, be-
bt have

larts of
)h con-
u must
both of
istened
nust do
me, and

((

I will

; proud ;
it was

lusband
for the
was so

I her son

In the midst of his triumphs Tom received a letter
from Lord Bolton. There liad been several short notes
from that nobleman, from which it was gleaned that he
had been passing liis time pleasantly in California. His
letter began by reminding Tom of the strange incident
which had induced Lord Lester to avoid the dinner
party of thirteen in Quebec, and of the Professor's ex-
planations as to the origin of the superstition. " I have
found here," ii went on, " a strange society, consist-
ing of the best people and organized in the form of a
club, solely to rebuke this superstition. It is called
the Thirteen Club, and its motto is ^Morituri te scdu-
tamits.^

" The club is composed of thirteen original mem-
bers, and it is incorporated by an act of the legislature
of the state. The act of incorporation declares that its
object, besides being charitable, is to combat by argu-
ment, by essays, and by example, the prevalent super-
stition against ^mlucky Fridays and against the pre-
judice in setting thirteen at dinner, a prejudice which
is believed to be at variance with the enlightened intel-
ligence of the age. The regular meetings are all held
on the thirteenth day of each month. The dinners are
to be served with thirteen courses at each table, non-
attendance or non-payment of dues for thirteen months
is made the cause of suspension of membership. The
menu, the wine bill, and all the literature of the club are
in keeping with this object. I sometimes dine there,
and am supposed to have been fitted for initiation by
the experiences which I have related to you. It is, to
say the least, a coincidence, and I think the idea is
original ; perhaps it will interest our friends. This is a
strange country, as is the history of its marvellous de-

282

PROFESSOR CONANT.

velopmont. The city of San Francisco is beautiful,
though the buildings are generally low to avoid the risk
of earthquakes, wliicli are not infrequent here. The
society is cosmopolitan, and the business of the town is
conducted by the people of all nations. Some of the
most fabulous fortunes in the United States have been
made hero ; and the palaces of men who started life a
few years ago would rival in splendor the royal palaces
at home. There is in California almost every variety of
soil and production. At any season you may journey in
a day from almost tropical heat to continual snow, in-
cluding nearly all varieties of temperature. Of course,
the country is young, but its progress has been magical.
There is a great deal o^ refinement in this particular
city, as well as over the dtate. I like the people. You
find travelled men and women here, who would do credit
to the drawing-rooms of our great capitals. I have spent
some days in the mountains, and have visited several
towns ; two or three of which are beautiful. One little
town of five thousand people nestling in a basin among
the mountains, and inhabited largely by miners, has
scarcely a house (if you except the Chinese quarters)
which is not neat, surrounded Ijy grounds well cultivated,
and abounding in choice flowers. The people are in-
telligent, hospitable and law-abiding. I have never seen
a mining town where the evidences of thrift and taste
and contentment are so general. You approach the
town, -which is a county seat, by a unique little railway ;
a narrow-gauge road connects it with the main line, and
passes over mountains, crags and canons, which would
make your head dizzy, and curves about in a way that
•would have generated lunacy among the railway engi-
neers of a few years ago. I like the country, and have

QATIIERTNG IN THE TIIUIuADS.

283

little

purcliasod a lar^^o ranch in ono of the valleys, -wliicli I
jiroposo to Btock with fifty thousand shoop in tho proper
season. I have reserved a place for you as herdsman,
which I think you will grace, and I expect to make my-
self useful under your supervision. Seriously, you
must arrange to come out next summer ai route, per-
haps, for China on a government mission. I shall re-
turn East in a week or two, and possibly spend sorao
time with Lester in Canada."

A few days later, a letter was received from Miss
Winthroj). She had to acknowledge the Professor's
cablegram, and was profuse in expressions of thankful-
ness and congratulation. Robert Holt had lately re-
turned from England, and George had met him in Quebec,
but Mr. Cuthbert was not expected until summer. In
the meantime, a correspondence, she thought, was going
on between General Elmwood and Sir John Cuthbert,
about v/hich she only knew what her little cousin, Miss
Elmwood, had told her, under a strict promise to keep
it from Tom ; so, of course, she could not tell him.
But he knew it all from Fred, who only the night before
had been raving about a certain event which was " to
come off" at Bloomfield, as if it were really of interna-
tional importance. "At any rate, it will make you and
me cousins," Fred had said to Tom. "Is it not strange
that I should have gone out intent upon slaughtering
the Americans, and here I am a captive bound by
silken cords ? "

" George," Miss Winthrop reported to Tom, " had
been two or three times in Quebec, and had met Ethel
in Hartford ; and Carlotta had lately written Agnes a
long, sweet letter, stronger and more confident in spirit,
and evincing earnest religious feeling." Then the letter

I il

284

PROFESSOR CONANT.

took Torn aside to private thoughts whither we must
not follow him.

" My thoughts of thee too sacred are,
For daylight's common beam,
I can but know theo as my star,
My angel, and my dream I "

'I ^i

If ;

Mrs. Conant thought it was strange Eobert should
have gone out again in mid-winter. " It can't be the
child," she said to the Professor, " there must be some
other, if not stronger, fascination. I remember that
when I pressed Tom's example upon him, he spoke in
a mysterious way of the only woman he could love
being wedded to the grave. I knew what he meant,
but it did not at the time impresL me. Yet I should
have known, for he spoke much of a life devoted to
good works ; and an ambition to consecrrie himself to
the priesthood of charity. I was so much occupied with
my own cares, and so thankful for what it was my duty
to regard as special mercies, that I am afraid I neg-
lected the poor boy ; but I had no idea he was going
away then, and I felt that it was safe to put him off a
little. Why did you not bring him into Parliament ? "
she inquired of the Professor.

"I sought to persuade him," replied Dr. Conant,
" but he was averse."

"It is not too late; his own county of Kingcmere
will be open presently. Nobody could well oppose him
there."

"Then I must write him at once," remarked good
Mrs. Conant. " Robert has great gifts ; but what he
needs now is absorbing occupation. I dread for a

GATHERING IN THE THREADS.

285

) must

slioald
be the
be some
3er that
poke in
aid love
) meant,
! should
iToted to
tnself to
ied with
my duty
I neg-
aa going
lim off a
Eiment ? "

Conant,

Ingcmere
pose him

:ed good
what he
ad for a

■woman the character of political intriguer, but my hus-
band will forgive me if I ask so much for my sister's
onlj boy."

" It will bo no gift of mine," replied the Professor ;
" the constituency is his own family stronghold. He
can win it himself if he chooses. But whatever ho
needs shall be done for him. There would be no favor -
itism. A worthier member for Kingsmere could not be
found in the kingdom."

And so it was agreed that Mrs. Conant should write
Kobert at Quebec, from which place his last letter had
been dated. After explaining to him the chances, she
told him that he needed work, and that there could be
no nobler occupation than to sit >^ith the first body of
gentlemen in the world, and to help to administer the
affairs of the freest and most powerful of nations. Be-
nevolence would be still open to him, and public affairs
need not stand in the way of the most far-reaching of
his charities. Even if honors did not entice him, in no
other position could he enjoy greater opportunities of
doing good to his race ; and she wanted him to stand
for Kingsmere, and, if possible, to enter the House of
Commons.

How could good Mrs. Conant know that when Kobert
received the letter he would be prostrate witli grief,
and regard himself as withered and blighted ? So sud-
den and startling are sometimes the vicissitudes of life,
and so rapid the accumulations of disaster ! "We must
take the liberty of reading the sad tale which he t^M in
his letter to his aunt. We may find love, hope, friend-
ship, grief and despair illogically interwoven ; but a sad
story Qxcites the sympathy and perhaps ennobles the
purposes of the human heart, and here it follows :

ill

286

PROFESSOR CONANT.

"Quebec,

18-.

*'My own Deaii Aunt:

"If my servant liacl asked me an hour ago, ' Could you write a
letter to Isles. Conant to-day, sir ? ' I am sure I should have answered,
* Not to-day ; ' for I felt so wearj', so stricken and overcome that
the task would have seemed impossible ; but your letter has given
me new life, though I cannot obey your wishes ; and it makes mo
ask, 'What am. I that I should set myself against fate, or by my
repinings accuse the Inevitable ? ' You shall know all. The mys-
terious fascination of little Ethel over me is no secret to you. When
I thought tliat her destiny was interwoven with mine, my friends
found me superstitious and hysterical ; others might have sneered,
you were full of charity, though you feared my reason was giv-
ing way to my imagination. But explain it as you may, I was a
prophet, and saw as cleai'ly as could have done Elijah of old. When
I met the poor father I was drawn to him as I had been drawn to
the child, and I knew that the sweet woman, who is her mother,
wa3 in some way to absorb my life in hers. In two days poor De
Luynes had become my dearest friend, and I knew that we two
had something approaching fascination for each other. Was it
superstition, or rather was it not a prescience? I hacl no idea what
was to happen, but I was impressed that startling events, which
would relate to our mutual interest and happiness, were pending.
I pondered weary days and sleepless nights. Why did these people
impress me so much? Wliy was my soul aglow at sight of this
accomplished man? and my heart melted in the presence of this
fascinating woman? Up to that time there was no thought of the
child. By degrees it became plain to me that little Ethel was
tlicirs. Here might have been, but was not, a solution. The
finger of fate still pointed forward, the weird influence still per-
meated my being, and the nameless proj^het still foretold tliat in
some way this beautiful woman was unconsciously to mould and
fashion my life. Then on that terrible night at sea, Ma\irice was
taken, and by little less tlian a miracle, liis wife was saved ; but
she struggled long between life and death, and yet I instinctively
knew she would recover. I had an assurance which I could not
explain, and of which I could not have spoken to others. She was
to live and guide me. I saw that clearly. But in wliat way I

OATIIERING m THE THREADS.

287

'could only conjecture. What wonder if my heart interpreted the
mystery? — She iccch to le inlnc. The very thought was a profanation
of g-rief ; but I entertained though I would not have expressed it.
She was drawn toward me because I had saved her child, as well
as by the memory of her husband's friendship for me. Did I de-
ceive myself if I hoped there might in time grow a stronger feel-
ing ? Since De Luynes's deatli she has been much witli the Sisters,
and I was jealous of the influence they exerted over her. The
priests could not liave reached her, I thought, because they had
dealt unfairly with her husband; but the ladies were gentle,
affectionate and pious, and they represented the Church that lier
husband loved. I thought they were propagandists before all
things, and I dreaded lest she should desert the religion of her
fathers. It was to guard her, to dissuade her, that I left England
so suddenly in the winter. She admitted to me that her ideas of a
woman's doing good were associated with conventual life, and that
it had been an object dear to the heart of Maurice that she should
worsliip with him within the same communion. She allowed mo
to expostulate, but she was not much impressed. ' Clirist,' she
said, ' would be found wherever two or three of His servants arc
gathered in His name.' She preferred Christian to sectarian work,
and she regarded charity as tlie holiest of Christian efforts. She
pictured to mc the sweet, holy life of tlie Sisters ; how they visited
tlie sick, and ' bound up the Avounds of the l)rokcn-hearted.' Slic
spoke kindly and even tenderly to me, but I was not pleased with
the success of my mission. Then a terrible blow fell upon us all — •
little Ethel was stricken with a deadly malady, which frightened
the servants from the house, and we were left dependent upon the
ministrations of the Sisters. Then I realized all I had read of the
noble devotion of these holy women. They nursed the child ?'ight
and day, and they gave strength and consolation to the mother.
Little Ethel died; I was prostrate with grief, but Carlotta was
calm, strong and hopeful. She had given the child to God, she
said, and to its father. One night, when she fervently prayed for
its life, she saw the face of Maurice looking reproachfully at her,
as if he would say, ' Can you not spare me the child ? ' She had
vowed to devote her life to the Church its father loved. In the
presence of death I told her all, and she said, ' if Ethel had lived it

288

PROFESSOR CONANT.

might have been.' My dear aunt, is it a strange, unreal story?
Could I have strength to face the world just as Carlotta Do Luyncs
retires from it ? Your letter AA'as kind, and the prospect you hold
out would once have .been alluring. I cannot feel as if time will
heal all things, nor as if old ambitions will return."

Mrs. Conant understood the letter and sympatliized
deeply with Eobert and mourned for the dear little
child, which had so recently left her, but it was at her
suggestion that Eobert was put in nomination for
Kingsmere, and three months afterward, though he was
still in America, he was elected to serve in Parliament.
"He will thank us by-and-by," she said, 'Svhen the
days of his mourning are over and when he finds him-
self face to face with great duties."

Meantime, Ethel had written George, and Tom had
thus heard, that the illness of the little one had been
terrible, but Carlotta had almost accepted its death as
a relief, and was strong and brave afterward. " The
sweet Sisters," as Ethel thought, "had given her
strength and courage. They directed her to God and
she trusted in Him." Perhaps she had been so stunned
by the first blow that she was less sensitive to what
followed ; and there was no doubt ^he good ladies, and
their ministrations, had smoothed her path and strewn
the tomb with flowers. They taught her that afflictions
were the admonitions of Heaven, and that a great sor-
row was a privilege and a distinction. Ethel thought
her sister's heart was full of noble resolutions, but she
dreaded lest she might take the veil and be altogether
lost to her. She spoke of Eobert Holt, of his grief at
the child's loss, and said Carlotta's composure seemed
to disturb him. She thought it would be a personal

OATHERINa IN TUE THREADS.

289

bereavement to Holt if her sister should abandon the
world. Then she spoke of her own loneliness, and of
the comfort she found in her letters from George ; of
Lord Bolton and his kind and delicate attentions, and
hoped Agnes was happy far away from the gloom she
felt in the De Luynes mansion.

" What changes the year has brought us ; how have
our hearts been torn and our loved ones taken. Do we
see the end yet ? There are joys in life. Will it go on
alternating between pleasure and pain ? New friends
and fresh bereavements, till we lay down the threads,
and rest at the journey's end?" "Dear girl," Miss
Winthrop wrote Tom (she had copied this letter for
him), "Ethel has had her own trials. Only a day or
two before the child Ethel fell ill, Lord Bolton, whom
she greatly esteemed, proposed for her hand in mar-
riage. He did not sue like an ardent lover ; he told her
frankly of his bereavements, but there was no one on
earth, he said, whom he should so gladly call his
wife. Ethel was surprised and pained; *I wish this
had not happened,' she told him, * you are so kind, and
you honor me so much, that I would not cause you a
regret. What you propose is impossible, for reasons
which you will understand, and which you will not
desire me to explain. Forget this passing fancy. Lord
Bolton, and honor me with your friendship which I
shall highly prize.' ' May I ask if you are engaged ? *
said Lord Bolton, kindly. * Yes, to George Winthrop,'
she answered. * George Winthrop, whom I have never
seen,' repeated his Lordship slowly. ' How strangely
we two have crossed each other's path.' "

<i I

Cfll^^E XXV.

NOUS VERRONS.

Months have passed, and there has been high holiday
at the Winthrop mansion in Boston. It is the anni-
versary of Tom's first meeting with Agnes, and the
wedding day of Capt. Thomas Conant, M.P., and Miss
Agnes Winthrop, and of Frederick Cuthbert, Esq., and
Miss Elmwood, of Bloomfield.

Tom's mother and Miss Alice Cuthbert had come out
from England to witness the nuptials. Agnes had
desired tliat the names of a third couple should be
added to the happy list, but George and Ethel felt that
the days of their mourning were not over. The cere-
mony was strictly private, and only relatives had been
invited. Capt. Strong was the only exception, and the
sweet young life of Alice was pledged to him, but her
father had said she was too young, and they must wait
another year. Lord Bolton and Robert were in Eng-
land. Uncle Horace had been indefatigable in his
attentions during the day, but it was evening now, and
the shadows seemed to have clouded his spirits.

"He has been unstrung for weeks," said Agnes to
Tom.

"He mourns for you," he answered. "Yes," con-
tinued the young wife, " he will miss me ; but he has
another and deeper grief. We are not lost to him, but

NOUS VEREONS.

291

h holiday
the anni-
, and the
and Miss
Esq., and

[ come out
.gnes had
ihoukl be
)1 felt that
The cere-
had been
n, and the
n, but her
must wait
e in Eng-
>le in his
now, and
.ts.
Agnes to

STes," con-
3ut he has
him, but

his good heart has refused to be comforted since Car-
lotta left the world. It is one short year since we knew
each other ; our love has made us so happy in spite of
many trials ! My dear husband, how mercifully we
have been spared, while our path has been shadowed
by the sad experiences of our friends."

" They would indeed make a book," he rejoined.
" A sad story ! Our lives have skimmed along social
and national issues, and we have discussed them under
the guidance of great and sympathetic minds. We
have set an example to those who should strengthen
the bonds which might bind kindred peoples closer
together ; while our trials have kept us mindful of the
vicissitudes of life, and may thus point a moral and
adorn a tale. The fascinations of romance are not
wanting. Will you write, Agnes ? "

"How dare I?"

" But it need not see the light."

" Some of the best characters would be unfinished.
Where could I leave Lord Bolton and Robert Holt ?"

" Oh, all our lives will go on, and if your book were a
success, you might, by-and-by, follow it with a sequel."

" Nous verrons, my darling," said Agnes, " but if I
wrote, I should say a great deal about you and our
other friends, and with tears I should christen my book
* Maurice De Luynes.

> >»

Time has sped happily with Agnes, but absorbed with
social and domestic care, she has not yet written; per-
haps these hasty chronicles may touch her heart, and
it may be, her more finished work will shortly follow
them.

ill' 11