j . DORIS AND THEODORA BY MARGARET VANDEGRIFT No life Can be pure in its purpose, and strong in its strife And all life not be purer and stronger (hereby. The spirits of just men made perfect on high, The Army of Martyrs who stand round the Throne, And look into the Face that makes glorious their own, Knoiv this surely at last. Honest love, honest sorrow, Honest work for to-day, honest hope for to-morrow, Are these worth nothing more than the hands they make weary, The hearts they have saddened, the lives they leave dreary ? Hush ! The Sevenfold Heaven to the voice of the Spirit Echoes, "He that o ercomet/t shall all things inherit. 1 ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON. PHILADELPHIA : PORTER & COATES. COPYRIGHT, 1884, BY PORTER & COATEE, M697001 INTRODUCTION. A MONGr the notes furnished for this story by a long-ago *\- resident of Santa Cruz, were some which drew so graphic a picture of life upon the Island in its halcyon days, that the temptation to give them to the possible readers of the story is almost irresistible, especially as they tell of a phase of life which has vanished, never to return either there or elsewhere. "Your map will show you a number of islands in the Atlantic Ocean, between North and South America and as these islands lie in the Torrid Zone, of course the climate is very hot, but the delightful breezes, sometimes from the sea, sometimes over the land, make the temperature very endur able indeed healthful. There is never any frost or snow most of the houses are finished without glass sashes, the windows are shaded by wide Venetian blinds, and secured by heavy, strong outside wooden shutters, which are closed and barred when the fierce winds of the hurricane-season are threatening. This season is from July 25th to October 25th. These days are marked in the churches, the one as a day of intercession, the other for thanksgiving. Do not mistake me and suppose I mean the windows are closed for the entire three months the closing is never for more than twelve hours, and then only on two sides of the house 6 IN TR OD UC TION. at the same time. The gales begin, continue and end in an almost undeviating way, so that experienced observers know when and where and how to begin to bar the windows with strong staves and rope. The rain pours in torrents, and lightning and thunder are sharp and loud. " The fruits are the guava, guava-berry, orange, shaddock, lime, pine-apple, sugar-apple, sour-sop, granadilla, bell-apple, &c., &c., &c. The guava, growing on a low tree like the quince, is of the same family, and the fruit is a little like the quince in some peculiarities, yet quite different in others. Every part of the fruit is used in preserving, first for jelly, then for marmalade. Pine-apples grow in abundance, and very curious do they appear, growing in a field. The sugar cane is remarkable also, not only for the sugar made from the juice, but because every part is useful, and all the refuse useful for fuel. " There is not much difference in the length of the days, as the island is not many degrees from the equator. The early morning is the pleasantest time for exercise, either walking or on horse-back then the evenings are cool, and invite to riding or walking. " Visiting socially is universal, for there are no theatres, and public entertainments are rare. Evening and dinner-parties are frequent, the young people are fond of dancing, and almost always indulge in it either to the music of the piano, or violin, or brass instruments. The old and young visit together in families, parties are never composed (solely) of the younger members of the community, and consequently the tone of society, though very merry, has a shade of refine ment and dignity quite agreeable. INTRODUCTION. 7 " The dress, as in all warm climates, is mostly of muslin or chintz for daily wear at home. For set companies, either gauzes, or lace, or muslin. In the cool season it is quite usual to wear thin silk, or soft woolen material this some times, not always. A shawl or wrap of light wool is always needed for evening rides or walks. " Now, slavery is totally abolished in this little island in former years, all, or nearly all the colored population were slaves, and there were many more servants employed in families than is now the case, so you may suppose their duties were not very arduous ; for instance, there would be two or three women to take care of the bed-rooms and sew, two as nurses for the children, one man to cook, he had an assistant ; one man as butler (who) also had an assistant ; they attended to all parts of the house except the bed-rooms, taking charge of the table, china, glass, silver, &c. ; one man to draw water for the whole family ; they depend on cisterns and wells. " The houses are lighted with candles or oil; when lamps are used, they are small, and filled with sperm oil. The general mode of lighting is by candles of wax or sperm, in heavily silver-plated candlesticks, both candle and stand enclosed by a deep, bell-shaped, clear glass shade. This is to prevent the flaring of the flame by the strong sea-breeze, freely admitted through the open windows. In drawing and dining-rooms it is customary to have glass globes sus pended by chains from the ceiling, in which lighted wax candles are placed. The chains are of brass. " There are not any street lamps, and you must always pro- 8 INTRODUCTION. vide yourself with a light and lantern, to help you to find your way home. " When the sky is clear, the stars give very great light, and when the moon shines you need nothing more, for the moon light is very bright between the Tropics. " I should have said at commencing that these are recollec tions of things forty years past ; I do not know what may have changed. " The young people of whom I am writing loved to take early morning walks, and part of the pleasure was to make up walking-parties, not forgetting the directions of our mothers to take a repast of dried rusk and fruit before start ing, or take it in a basket to use on the walk, early walking without having taken some food being injuriously exhaust ing. The quiet on our walk was charming ; then we would stop to listen to the indescribable gentle clicking sound made by the wind moving the long, stiff blades of the cocoa- nut palm against one another; you must be quiet to hear it, and enjoy the peculiar beauty. There were some birds to make pleasant music, but not many, for I believe singing- birds do not abound in these latitudes. The hedges would be brilliant with the rich red and yellow blossoms of the Barbadoes thorn, always in bloom ; then we could see also hedges of aloes and dates, very sure hindrances to the invasions of cattle, so also the prickly-pear cactus, and these also in floAver or with fruit, the pear shape giving the name to this species of cactus. Unlike our pears, however, the outside rind is studded with small, very, very small prickles in groups or spots ; be careful in gathering the fruit to avoid the prickles, cut open a pear, there is a rich liquid and small INTRODUCTION. 9 seeds, both of a most perfect crimson color, and of a sweet ness very like the fig. The liquid is used in coloring s} 7 rups or spirits, and in dyeing eggs at Easter for the children. " Perhaps we walk on and reach some planter s garden, and there see the fruit-trees in blossom or with fruit, breathe the sweet perfume, receive some of the fruit and flowers from the polite master, who is usually riding about his grounds at that hour inspecting, and then we desire to return home, or the sun will be too hot for comfort. " On reaching home we make our toilet for an eight-o clock breakfast, and find, perhaps, some one or two friends have come to join us at that meal." " On each plantation a large part is given to the slaves for their residence ; this is divided into streets and cross-streets, on which their cottages are built. Each cottage has an apportionment of land, and this the owner of the cottage cultivates according to his best judgment, and it is astonish ing to know how thrifty and industrious some of these people are. A large tree, always a fruit-tree, is growing near the door ; this affords shade, and the fruit is profitable, as it is taken to town for sale. On their piece of land is always a small kitchen, to save them from building fire indoors. The remainder of the land is planted in vegetables, which are also taken to town for sale. All this industry they make the best use of, furnishing additional clothing to that provided by their masters, and making a pleasant variety in their food, and many of them were able to lay by money enough to purchase the freedom of, first themselves (that is, the parents), then one child after another. Many were content to continue slaves, satisfied with their accommodations (two 10 IN TR OD UC TION. cottages, where the family had several children), rations every week of Indian meal, wheat or rye flour, yams, potatoes, pumpkins, and salt fish or meat, some change each week, two or three strong, comfortable, full suits, besides an extra gift at Christmas of something more and better. " Time was allowed them to take their own produce to town for sale, and also to make their own purchases, and peddling women visited the plantations with their baskets and bun dles of small, useful articles for men, women, and children. The slaves were an industrious, sensible people. With a few exceptions as you will find everywhere they were generally clean and neat in person and homes. Many of them were ambitious to know how to read, and often were successful. The natives, white and black, were industrious and econom ical. I can tell you of one white woman, a widow, who kept a small shop for dry-goods and trimmings, arid in fact every article you could need in common house use, sewing, and stationery. Besides supporting herself and two children, she laid by, year after year, while the children were small, all the money she could spare, until she found herself in funds suffi cient to send, first, the daughter to the United States, and kept her for four years at good schools, and when she re turned to her mother she was able to take a situation in a school as teacher, and afterwards to begin a school in her own name. She taught music also, and entirely relieved her mother of any expense for her. The boy was some years her junior, but as soon as he was twelve he was sent to a school in the Northwestern States, where he was educated. He entered on a mercantile service, where he gradually ad- INTRODUCTION. 11 yanced, and became a large land-owner in the North west. "Many women acquire a small fortune by making guava jelly and other preserves, which are always in demand by visitors to the island. Some make cakes and desserts for families and pleasure parties." "On the north side (of the island) a high, bluff coast meets the eye; then, coming round to the west, the beautiful estates, lying more level, seem like extensive gardens as you sail past one, then another, and then, as you are nearing the little town of Frederickstadt, the sandy beach, which first is discernible as you leave the north side, gradually widens and continues along the west, where the town lies. The beach is separated from the first street, called Strand Street, by a regular row of the tall cocoa-nut palms, always in fruit ; these continue nearly to the southern point of land. The approach is peculiarly tropical, and gives an impression of more beauty than is found in going through the town, and yet there is a great deal of this the immense tamarind trees, the large, shady Thibet trees, and many fruit-trees, growing indiscriminately about, so different from any of those to which a northern resident has been accustomed, waken a strange, pleasant feeling of novelty. An early morning walk after a storm which has caused a heavy swell in the waves, rolling in quantities of shells, will give occupation enough if you want shells. If you prefer horseback-riding, no time is so inviting as that first hour beginning with sunrise. The young ladies like it, when they are stopping in the country with rela tives, to go out on safe, easy-pacing horses without an 12 INTRODUCTION. attendant, and travel for an hour along the charming, well- kept roads, or ride into any neighboring plantation where they wish to leave a note or message, or perhaps stop to breakfast; but then they must not grumble at the later ride home in a fierce heat the fine, strong breeze makes the heat more endurable. " Very many agreeable evenings are passed in rowing in the harbor, or on board a large war-vessel, where you have been invited by the officers who desire to make a return attention for hospitalities they have received from the islanders, but none of these are without the elder relatives. " Now we will take the usual early morning ride along the north side, along the narrow, pebbly strip below the rocky bluff, and, the morning being calm, the sea gently washes in over the pebbles, bathing the horses feet. " I wish I could describe the beauty of that deep, clear, blue sea, so calm, one could never imagine its fury agitated by high winds. We ride along the bluff of plantation Cale donia, and presently turn into a road which takes us along the cane-fields, now in full flower, like the beautiful prairie- grass we get in the States, except that the color is a pink lilac. Then we go on, and pass through the fruit and flower plant ings, and reach our visiting-home in good time to refresh and dress for breakfast. Perhaps we visit neighbors between that and dinner-time; or, should company be expected to dinner (at six), we rest quietly, with working, reading, and music. " One evening a number of friends, thirty or so, may be expected. The grounds are made into fairy-gardens with colored lamps and lanterns, and, the evening being dry and INTRODUCTION. 13 cool, the guests pass as much of the time in sauntering through the grounds as they pass indoors. Part of the entertainment is dancing, and, on this particular evening, playing on the guitar and singing, in true troubadour fash ion, by one of two young relatives young men who had been for years in France and Denmark, and had returned to make a short stay with their relatives. " Now comes a change death comes in, families are sep arated, households broken up but, before this, a great work is to be done ; the question of emancipation is being seri ously discussed." "It was decided that all the children born at a certain time, and after, should be free at the age of twenty-one, and that all other slaves should be emancipated after a term of years. The arrangement was acceptable to owners and slaves, and was progressing most satisfactorily, when some evil people from the neighboring English islands came to Santa Cruz, and gradually sowed the seeds of discontent, advising the people that they were wronged by this slow course of emancipation, that they should demand immediate freedom. In a short time the slaves were in rebellion. The Government had made some preparations of defence, invit ing aid from other places, and war-ships, United States, English, French, and Spanish, bringing soldiers, were on hand to stop the wholesale destruction. As it was, many estates were much injured by fire, but the lawlessness was checked. Then freedom to all was proclaimed. The Government was to remunerate the owners, paying a price for every slave, which promise was fulfilled. The now freed negroes were limited by law to ask but the price settled by law for a given 14 INTR OD UC TION. number of hours of labor each day. Their entire expenses now devolved on themselves ; their former masters were no longer responsible for dwellings, food, clothing, care in sick ness, by nurses, doctors, or for medicine. The negroes at first, in their wild delight, refused to work, until they began to understand that no work meant no pay. The planters suffered in actual losses during the rioting, and afterwards from the insufficient and inefficient laborers. Since then many once nourishing sugar-plantations have not yielded a full return. Some others are in full operation, but the island has deteriorated agriculturally and socially; nearly all the most important people have left it." DORIS AND THEODORA. CHAPTER I. IT was early morning in Santa Cruz, and at that hour of the day, most lovely of all hours in the tropics, sea and shore sparkled with life and beauty. Between the sandy beach and the first street of a small town waved stately cocoa-palms, their feathery fronds standing out clear and separate against the matchless blue of the sky. The sun was half-way above the horizon, and there was a sense of freshness and life indescribable in words a pulsing of light and color, a thrill of beauty, filling all the sunny air. Laughing and chattering negroes lounged upon the beach, or went, without undue haste, to and fro upon errands, or business of their own. Little parties of merry girls on horseback met and passed each other, stopping to exchange gay good-mornings, and invitations, and plans for rides and drives, before they parted. But far up the beach, keeping, with evident purpose, apart from all the rest, a girl about fifteen years old, mounted on a sturdy white pony, rode slowly along, with drooping head and downcast eyes. The reins hung loosely on the pony s neck, but he and Doris Campbell were thor oughly good friends, and he would have scorned to take advantage of slackened rein and absent mind. He knew his business, however, and stopped resolutely when he reached a 16 DORIS AND THEODORA. certain place in the beach, at which his little mistress always paused before turning his head homeward. This roused her from her abstraction, and she turned, as she usually did here, for a long gaze out to sea. But no light came into her face as her eyes traveled over the shining, dimpling water. Her brow darkened more and more, and presently large, slow tears, like the first threatening drops of a thunder- shower, fell from her eyes on the pony s white mane. " I can t, I can t," she said, with a little sob, unconsciously speaking aloud. " I ve tried, for mamma s sake I ve put it in my prayers, but I can not love her ! Oh, why did God let her come ? "We were all so happy, before she came. And papa will not call me * daughter any more ; it must be Doris now, all the time, as if he were angry with me, for that dreadful little ugly baby is his daughter, too ! And it will always be the same ; whenever I want mamma to go anywhere with me, or do anything for me, it will always be, I can t leave baby, dear, just as it was this morning, and very soon they will love her just as much as they love me. I shouldn t wonder if they even came to love her more, for I can see that they don t care so much about me as they did before she came, already. And when Leonard comes home, he will pet her, and play with her, and give her half the time and love he has been giving to me ! " The pony interrupted her with an impatient little snort and shake ; he knew very well how hot the sun would be, presently, and beside, he was beginning to want his break fast, and the two lumps of white sugar which never failed to come after it. Doris sprang from the saddle, and clasped him around the neck, laying her wet, flushed cheek against his silvery mane. "You, at least, are all my very own, Dirck," she said. " You will always love me best, best of all ! Poor little Dirck ! Are you so very hungry for your breakfast, and do DORIS AND THEODORA. 17 you want to go home before the heat catches you ? Come, then ; I ll not feel any better, if I stay here a month, so we may as well go." She drew a lump of sugar from the pocket of her riding- habit, and held it a little way off, until the pony whinnied gently, and touched her cheek with his soft pink nose. Then she gave him the coveted morsel, and springing easily and lightly into the saddle, turned his head toward home, shaking the reins, and saying: "Faster, Dirck, faster !" He gave a joyful little snort, and broke at once into a canter, and as he flew along the hard, level sand, his rider s face cleared, in spite of herself the air was so sweet, the light so fair, the sea so blue. The face which she lifted, with a glad, free motion, toward the deep arch of the sky, did not look as if her heart could be the home of dark and envious thoughts. A broad, high forehead, large, very dark-brown eyes, delicately but strongly marked black eye brows, long black eyelashes, a resolute mouth, rather large for the other features, but not unbeautiful, because of firm red lips, and even white teeth, and a nose which seemed to have come near being straight, but to have suddenly changed its mind and turned up a little, made a face very pleasing to look at, especially just now, when eyes were shining and cheeks glowing with health and exercise, and the nut-brown hair was blown back in a confusion of waves and little curls. It was not only in the fond eyes of mother and father that Doris was comely, but to their eyes, because of that very fondness, there was something visible which was beginning to mar the comeliness. For six years Doris had been their only child on earth. A baby brother and sister had died, one when she was three years old, the other when she was between eight and nine, and the mourning hearts of her parents had clung more and more closely to their one re- 18 DORIS AND THEODORA. maiuing child. They had tried, earnestly and conscien tiously, not to spoil her, and in great measure succeeded, for she was warm-hearted and loving, strictly truthful and honorable, and generally obedient to their wishes. But she had a quick, imperious temper, a strong will, and a need lessly high opinion of her own judgment and ability. Until the birth of the "dreadful little ugly baby," two months ago, she had been the chief treasure and special care of parents and servants alike, and no one had dreamed of the sleeping demon of jealousy in her heart, until it began to manifest itself. Leonard Campbell, an orphan cousin two or three years older than herself, had been brought up with her, for the last ten years, almost as a brother; for two years past, he had been away at school in the United States, but the long vacation was always to be spent at his uncle s home, and to this they both looked joyfully forward. The thought of his return now, however, only added to poor Doris s self- inflicted misery. Leonard was a hearty, fun-loving boy, but he was tender-hearted and chivalrous, and Doris knew that the baby-cousin would at once find a place in his heart. She had been ashamed even to hint, in her letters to him, the state of her own feelings, and he had spoken with lively interest of the baby, asking to be told how it looked, whether it knew one person from another yet, and if it were afraid of strangers. " What fun it will be, Doris, dear," he wrote, " when she begins to toddle and tumble about, and try to say everything she hears! I shall have to mind how I bring any slang home with me, a year or so from now ! I wish it might not be wrong to let her think that I am her really and truly brother/ as you used indignantly to call me, when any one dared to insinuate that 1 was only your cousin! And no wonder, dear, for you have been the sweetest and best of DORIS AND THEODORA. 19 little sisters to me, just as aunt and uncle have been, in everything but name, the best of fathers and mothers." But these loving words only brought an added bitterness; must Leonard, too, divide his love for her with this intrusive little stranger? She reined in the pony, as she neared the entrance to an avenue of stately palms, and once more the shadow passed over her face ; when she stopped before the wide veranda, and gave the reins to the smiling black boy who waited to take them, she said briefly and gravely : "Rub him down well, Cudjoe he s been going fast." " Missy not feel well to-day ? " asked the boy, gently, and with a wistful look at her cloudy face. "Quite well, thank you, Cudjoe," she answered kindly, "but I m a little tired." She ran to her room to change her riding-habit for a soft white cambric, and came to the breakfast-table with a toler ably cheerful face. Her mother and father had already seated themselves, but her father rose to place her in her chair, with the courtesy which is too often omitted in families, and as he bent to kiss her cheek, with a loving " Good-morning, little daughter, have you had a pleasant ride?" only a very jealous eye could have discovered any want in his greeting. "It was beautiful by the sea, papa," said Doris, evading the question, "and Dirck is so funny he knows just where I always turn to look out to sea, beyond the point, you know, where one can see farthest, and if I don t stop him there, he stops of his own accord, now, and if he thinks I stay too long, he turns of his own accord, too, and stamps, and gives a little snort ! I know he wants to talk, and he almost does!" "Dirck is a very wonderful pony," said Mr. Campbell, laughing; "he would make fame and fortune as a trick- 20 DORIS AND THEODORA. pony. Don t you think you d better negotiate with a circus in the States, dear, and let him go where his talents will command a larger audience ?" "Now, papa ! I will not rise, as Leonard says, to that ! I know you are only in fun. As if anything in the wide world would tempt me to part with Dirck ! " " A note came for you while you were gone, darling," her mother said, as Doris paused. " It was inclosed in one for me. Mrs. Santon very kindly asks us to spend this evening and the night with her ; her brother is making her a very short visit, and she always promised us, you know, that we should hear him play and sing, if she could arrange it. I am afraid I cannot leave baby ; she does not seem well to day, but I have persuaded papa that for once he can go without me, if you wish to go, for I hate to have you lose the pleasure." Doris s face had flushed with delight, as her mother began speaking, but the color died away at the words " I am afraid I cannot leave baby," and she replied impetuously, as her mother paused : "You wanted to hear him much more than I did, mamma ! Are you going to give up everything for that for baby?" " Do not speak in that tone to your mother, Doris," said Mr. Campbell, not unkindly, but very gravely. Doris struggled with herself for a moment. Angry tears filled her eyes, but she conquered, and said presently, in a low, constrained voice : "I beg your pardon, mamma ; I did not mean to be dis respectful." "I know you did not, darling," her mother answered gently. "It is a disappointment, and if baby were only well, I should not hesitate to leave her with Nana * for the * The name commonly given to a child s-nurse. DORIS AND THEODORA. 21 evening, and we could drive back by moonlight, but she was very restless all night, and seems feverish this morning, and I have just sent Gabriel for Dr. Svensen." Doris noticed, then, that her mother s face was pale, with dark shadows under the eyes, and her heart smote her. " Dear mamma ! " and she rose to fling her arms about her mother s neck, " how selfish I am I never saw how tired you look till this minute. I don t care to go without you, and I know papa would rather not. Let us write an excuse, and perhaps Mr. Santon can play and sing some other evening before he goes." " No, darling, his sister says it is the only evening he can give her, and I really wish you to hear him. I think it would be of use to you, in your own music lessons; so, if Dr. Svensen says baby is not in any danger, you and papa will be good children and please me by going, and then I shall hear all about the music, if I cannot actually hear the music itself." Doris wavered ; it would be very delightful to go in this way, her father s sole charge, and quite as if she were a grown-up young lady, and " out," and if her mother really wished it. " Well, mamma," she said, slowly, " if you would really and truly like us to go, and papa is willing " Papa will set an example of obedience to the highest authority," said Mr. Campbell, including wife and daughter in the same hug, " and if baby is warranted by the doctor, we will go, my Doris, and have a romantic drive home by moonlight." They had noticed with deep pain the change in Doris since the birth of her little sister, but they shrank from speaking to her about it, hoping from day to day that the helpless baby would win its own way to her heart, and trying in everything to show her how entirely unchanged was her own 22 DORIS AND THEODORA. place in their hearts, and they welcomed this opportunity to give her a fresh pleasure. Mrs. Campbell knew that there would, in all probability, be a large number of people at Mrs. Santon s that evening, and Doris had not yet " come out," but this was an excep tional occasion, and she had full confidence that her daughter would take no advantage of the indulgence, in the way of making it a plea for future exceptions. Doris was still a child in heart and mind, although her height began to warn her parents that she would not be a child much longer. Dr. Svensen was at home, and came promptly to see the baby. He was a large, kindly-faced old man, " fat, fair," and a good deal more than forty. He had been the family physi cian since Mrs. Campbell herself was a little girl, and took a warm interest in the welfare of all beneath the roof. He was a Dane, and although it was many years since he had habitually spoken his native tongue, he was still at war with the letter r, pronouncing it, when he remembered in time, with a sonorous roll, and when he did not, as if it had been w. He was a wise and skillful doctor, whose interest in his profession had never abated; he still read and studied with all the ardor and freshness of youth, and this fact, combined with his kindliness of heart, and the cheery, pleasant voice and manner, had won him a large number of grateful patient- friends. Every child in the wide circuit which his practice included considered itself his special friend, and many a time had Doris, mounted proudly in front of him on the old gray horse which he habitually rode, been carried off for a ride to some neighboring plantation. He was a widower, with one child a kind-hearted, if rather prim maiden lady, who pre sided over his house and, in fact, over the plantation, too. She was his able and willing assistant in the many cases where good food was more needed than medicine was, and babies all went to her, when she held out her arms for them, DORIS AND THEODORA. 23 with unquestioning confidence. She spoke with an accent something like her father s, and with an equally pleasant yoice. She, too, was large and fair, with pale yellow hair, which she wore twisted up into the tightest possible knot, at the back of -her head, and in two or three little corkscrew curls on each temple. Doris had always been an especial favorite with her, and scarcely a week passed in which Miss Christina did not "borrow" the child for a day, or at least an afternoon. Doctor Svensen spoke cheerfully and hopefully of the baby, saying she had taken a slight cold, and was somewhat fever ish, but that he did not feel at all alarmed for her. "And yet," he added, " if I spoke to any but so careful and tender a mother, I should say, be very watchful for the next twenty- four hours, for the weather is warm, and this little one has never been very strong, though, with God s help, we shall make her so, I hope, in time." He made some small powders, from some of the contents of his saddle-bags, and directed Mrs. Campbell how to use the medicine. His saddle-bags contained all that he needed in his general practice, for very often he visited at places so remote from any town, that it would have been impossible for the family of his patient to have his prescriptions put up. Doris had not heard his last remark. When he had said that he did not feel at all alarmed about the baby, she had immediately danced out of the house, to give old Gray a handful of grass and a lump of sugar. She had felt restless and uneasy, before the doctor came ; what if baby should be very ill should die ? Perhaps God would punish the re bellion of her heart, Doris thought, by recalling the littls life to Himself. And how could she bear then, to look in the sorrowing faces of her father and mother ? Already, she knew, they loved the baby fondly, and she grudgingly ad- 24 DORIS AND THEODORA. mitted to herself that it was pretty to see it smile and stretch its tiny arms out when it saw father or mother. Many discussions had been held as to a name. The parents were anxious to please Doris in this, thinking that perhaps her interest and affection would be awakened ; but, beyond objecting to every name thus far suggested, she had not con cerned herself, apparently, in the matter. She ran to meet her father, who was returning from his usual morning round of the plantation, and putting her arm in his, said, cheerfully : " It s all right about baby, papa, or at least it will be Dr. Svensen says she has only taken a little cold, and that there is no cause for alarm." " I am very glad, very thankful," replied Mr. Campbell ; " your mother had a restless, anxious night with her, dear, and it is only because I know that we can give her most pleasure in that way, that I am willing to go this evening; I hope I may live to see my little Doris as utterly free from self as her dear mother is." "I am afraid you never will, papa," said Doris, looking down. "It always makes me feel hopeless, when I think how good mamma is, and how bad I am." " It need not, darling; the Strength in which your mother walks may be yours, whenever you will claim it. She could do nothing without that." " I know, papa at least, I know what I am told, and what I read in the Bible, but somehow I can t seem to make it real." They were standing on the veranda, by this time, and just then the doctor came out, and after shaking hands heartily with Mr. Campbell, untied his horse and mounted. "I must hasten," he said ; "your little friend Clara, on the next plantation, Doris, has a fever since yesterday, and DORIS AND THEODORA. 25 they wait anxiously, I know, for me to come again to-day, as I promised." " Is Clara ill ? " asked Doris, anxiously. " Oh, I am very sorry. Will you give her my love, doctor, and tell her how sorry I am,- and ask her if there is not something I can do for her?" " I will, my dear, and when I come to see the little sister again to-morrow, I can tell you what your little friend shall say. Good-bye for to-day, my friends ! " and the doctor bowed, and was gone. " Why Agnes, the doctor spoke of coming again to-morrow," said Mr. Campbell, as he came into the room where his wife, seated on a low chair, was holding the fretful baby. " I am afraid he feels more uneasy than he is willing to tell us." " No, I don t think so, dear," replied Mrs. Campbell, cheerfully; "he said, positively, that there was no cause for alarm, and I can always trust him to speak the truth, if he speaks at all; but he feels, just as I do, that baby is not strong, and must be closely watched, and I asked him to come again to-morrow, for my own satisfaction." " Ah, that makes it better," said Mr. Campbell, much re lieved, " and you really must let Nana help you more, darling; you will be ill yourself, if you take no rest at all. Come, give baby to me for a while ; I will walk with her till she is quiet, and then Nana can hold her; you hardly slept at all last night, I do believe." He took the baby in his strong arms, and began to walk the floor, and Mrs. Campbell, seeing how quickly the change of position seemed to soothe and comfort the child, went into another room for the much needed rest, with a parting injunction to the nurse to call her at once if baby seemed worse. Meanwhile, Doris, with a few books swinging in a satchel on her arm, had walked down the palm avenue, and along a 2 26 ^ DORIS AND THEODORA. shady path, to where a little school-house nestled among the trees. Here a young governess, who lived with a family on a neighboring plantation, daily held a small schoolfor the older daughters of three or four of the planters. She was a bright, energetic girl of twenty-two or three, from "the States," and her pupils, while they loved her dearly, had a whole some respect for her as well. Miss Anna Robeston was thorough herself, and it was no fault of hers if all her pupils were not thorough also. The school-house was a one-storied, octagonal building, with a wide veranda all around it, and covered with a pointed roof. Banning vines clambered over it in all direc tions, waving their feathery branches from every corner and from the top, and it was a pretty feature of the charming landscape in which it stood. The other girls who shared Miss Robeston s instructions, and who all lived in the immediate neighborhood, we^e Grace and Sara Lilienthal, Jane and Clara Barrett, Christine Larsen, and Hilda Tilling. Their ages ranged from twelve to sixteen ; they were all pleasant, refined girls, and Doris loved each one ; but every school-girl must have her " particular " friend, her double, the special sharer of her joys and griefs, and it was Hilda Ufling who occupied that place with Doris. She was a tall, fair, tranquil-looking girl, with a crown of yellow hair, and soft, blue eyes, a most striking contrast to Doris in every way, and the friendship was good for both of them, for Hilda s calm and temperate way of regarding everything had its effect upon Doris s impetuous nature, and Doris s enthusiasm often roused Hilda when her calmness was in danger of degenerating into indolence. The bell had not yet rung, and Doris immediately communicated to Hilda her engagement for the evening. " And I wish you were going too, Hilda," she said, eagerly, " for you love music so far butter than I do and rnanima DORIS AND THEODORA. 27 says that Mr. Santon is the best amateur performer she ever heard." " I am going," said Hilda, smiling, as she so often did, at Doris s impetuosity ; " I have been trying to tell you so for the last five minutes, but you are such an avalanche, Doris, when anything interests yon, and almost everything does!" "And you are a glacier, a cold, impassive, unshakable glacier!" said Doris, giving Hilda s arm a little shake, in anger half real, half pretended. " Will anything ever excite you, I wonder, you snow- image, you ice-maiden ? " "I do not know," said Hilda, "I have never yet been very much excited, I confess, but I can fancy that, perhaps, some day oh, we are talking nonsense, Doris, as usual. Why should I not have a northern nature, when all my ancestors, excepting just my mother and father, were loyal Danes ? But see, Miss Anna is coming, looking like a nun in her soft, black gown 35011 will be obliged to finish shaking me after school, my dear ! " School-hours brought no drudgery, unwillingly per formed, to these happy girls ; Miss Anna s hearty interest in their studies had communicated itself to each one, and the recitations were given with a keen zest on the part of both pupils and teacher. All were encouraged to ask questions and give opinions freely, to investigate every doubtful point in history or geography thoroughly ; their bright young minds were on the lookout for anything and everything that would be of interest to their teacher and schoolmates ; sometimes it was a paragraph read or recited from a bock, sometimes a clipping from one of the highly-prized foreign newspapers which from time to time came to the Island, sometimes a bit of evidence from dictionary, gazetteer or encyclopaedia. At that time, far fewer studies were under- %8 DORIS AND THEODORA. taken than are now required in the public schools, and there was the better opportunity for thoroughness in those which were considered essential. The rivalry between the girls was rather a generous emulation, for each was ready and willing to help forward any or all of the rest. A week ago, Miss Robeston had asked each girl to bring a short essay upon her favorite historical character, and to-day the writing and arithmetic hours were to be used for the reading and commenting upon these essays, and the characters chosen. It is quite possible that a request like this, made in a public or private school at the present time, would be con sidered a "dreadful bore," "an imposition," and several other things the reverse of pleasant, but in Miss Anna s school it was entered into with eager interest, and the bright young faces, as the girls sat around the table, waiting for their turns, were a pleasant sight. Their teacher had promised to lead off in the exercise, and as soon as all* were ready, she announced that her favorite was, and always had been, since she had read enough history to make a choice, William of Orange, the husband of Mary, Queen of England. Her essay was a brief sketch of his early life, and the more prominent deeds in his subsequent career. She dwelt especially upon the fact that he had been heavily weighted in the race of life by a weak and ailing body, and that he had nobly proved the power of mind and character to wrest victory from defeat. Her essay was spirited and stirring, and there was a little murmur of applause as she concluded, but it was followed by comments and questions which showed more surprise at her choice than concurrence in it. "Oh, Miss Anna!" said Doris, "he was such a gloomy, morose sort of person he made so many enemies! I always pity Queen Mary for having had such an unpleasant husband, as he must have been ! " DORIS AND THEODORA. 29 "I fancy," said Miss Anna, "that the stern strength of purpose which enabled him to save Holland, and which, in times of trouble and danger and defeat, even, kept him from yielding, must often have made him appear morose, when, in reality, he was only silent because he feared that speaking at all would seem like complaining. Perhaps his wife under stood this, and was sensible enough not to fret him with foolish talk while the fate of a nation trembled in the balance. I often wonder at the patience with which men listen, and even respond to, the trivialities and sillinesses of women, when trouble and care are absorbing all their faculties, and I cannot help hoping that my seven little women will apply certain of their history lessons to private life. None of your fathers or brothers are warriors and statesmen, but all of them are, or will be, fighting the battle of life, that those most dear to them may have a safe and sheltered home, and while it is not given to all women to help in this, it belongs to each woman never to hinder. Wood is an inert and lifeless thing, but it may lie heavily on the ground as a stumbling-block, or be hewn into a staff. Now, Hilda, you are oldest. Who is your choice, my dear ? " " Alfred the Great," replied Hilda, in her clear, deliberate tones. "He was able, when effort became impossible, to wait, with calm philosophy, for the turning of the tide in his affairs. I think patience is often a far grander thing, and far more noble, than the restless energy which would force events before the time for them is ripe." There were one or two indignant murmurs from the more impetuous of the girls at this, but Hilda, calmly ignoring them, proceeded to read her well-written essay. Miss Anna praised it freely and kindly, but added a gentle word of warning against allowing patience to degenerate into indolence, at which Doris quietly pinched Hilda s arm, with a triumphant little smile. 30 DORIS AND THEODORA. Grace and Sara Lilienthal were twins, and had never yet been known to differ about anything. They were rather romantic, with a tendency to indiscriminate hero-worship, and thei* choice in this, as in everything else, was the same. Grace, who generally took the lead, said that. King Charles the Martyr was their hero, and that they had each written an essay upon him, but had been careful not to compare notes, or exchange ideas, so that the essays would, of course, be entirely different each from the other. Grace read hers first ; Sara followed, and as she read on, a smile went round which, as she laid down her paper, rip pled into a laugh, in which the victims, and even Miss Eobeston joined. For, although no one for a moment doubted the truth of Grace s statement, the ideas, and even the language of both essays, were almost identical. Jane Barrett had chosen her namesake, Lady Jane Grey, and her simple and pathetic little essay brought tears to the eyes of Doris, and one or two more of the excitable ones. Clara, a patient, plodding student, whose untiring industry made up for her lack of quickness, had chosen Robert Bruce, and in her absence, her sister read her essay for her. Doris announced that Henry of Navarre was her choice, and concluded her essay by reading, in her most spirited manner, Macaulay s ballad upon him. Christine chose Harold the Dane, and her essay was in heroic blank verse. Much lively discussion took place between and after the readings, and all were surprised when Miss Anna, glancing at her watch, remarked that it was ten minutes beyond the usual hour of dismissal. They ^ *"d that they might have either a continuance of th es, or a fresh exercise of a similar nature, the followi. ~k, but Miss Anna said that this would be much too soon, and would take time and at tention which should be given to their regular studies. " But a month from to-day," she added, " I would like each DORIS AND THEODORA. 31 of you to bring me an essay, similar to those yon have brought this morning, upon the character in history, either ancient or modern, sacred or profane, which seems to you most despicable and blame worthy. And I wish yon to do this very carefully ; try to divest your minds of all unreasoning prejudice, sift your reasons and motives for your opinions, and be perfectly candid, both with yourself and me. I tried this experiment, intending to continue the exercises if I were pleased with the result of the first one. I am more than pleased. I do not know when I have spent a more delightful two hours, and I think, to judge from your faces, that each of you can say the same. Perhaps you would like me to give you a list of the subsequent exercises, that you may have more opportunity and leisure to prepare for them. Have you your note-books and pencils ? Very well, I will read the list slowly, and each can write it down : " The noblest deed recorded in history. "The most despicable deed. " The brightest and most useful reigns in England, France, Germany, and Spain, taken, of course, successively. " That, you see, will take us to the June vacation. There, now, you must be off. Thank you for the patience with which you have allowed me to keep you beyond the time." Eager protests and affectionate good-byes were given, and then books and papers were collected, and the girls dispersed to their different homes. CHAPTEE II. DORIS found her mother looking much better for a refreshing sleep ; Dr. Svensen s powders seemed to have restored the baby to quietness and comfort, and there appeared to be no reason why father and daughter might not go with easy minds to their musical evening ; indeed, Mr. Campbell tried to persuade his wife that she could join them with perfect safety to the baby, but this she gently refused to do. " I should be fancying all the evening that I heard baby crying, dear," she said, " and I could take no real pleasure in the music and lively talk. No you and Doris will tell me all about it to-morrow, and I shall like that far better. Come, little daughter, it is high time you were dressing for dinner. Papa is always punctual, you know, and he has ordered the carriage for seven o clock." Doris s gown was a very simple one of white muslin, tied at the waist with a broad white ribbon ; but her bright eyes and rosy cheeks made it seem quite enough. "Am I all right, mamma?" she asked, dancing in for inspection, when Nana, who helped her to dress, had pro nounced her ready. "Yes, darling," replied her mother, kissing her fondly, "you look very neat and nice and you are growing so fast, that papa declares he will put a weight on your head, for he is not ready to lose his little girl yet awhile." "He isn t going to lose her, mamma!" said Doris, gaily. "I m nowhere near ready to be a young woman yet, if I am almost as tall as you are. Just think of all the things I have DORIS AND THEODORA. 33 to learn first. Good-bye do be good, and go to bed early ; you look tired yet. I do so wish you could come with us." It was still daylight as the open carriage rolled down the avenue ; the full moon, just risen, seemed to contend for the mastery with the lingering light of the sun ; here and there a large star was beginning to twinkle. A gentle breeze gave a tremulous motion to the fronds of the palm-trees, pro ducing a soft, monotonous, clicking sound; the hedges of Barbadoes thorn on either side of the avenue were bright with their rich red and yellow blossoms, and the air was laden with the scent of many flowers. " Dear papa, how lovely it all is ! " said Doris, impulsive ly. "I wonder why, when everything is so perfect, it gives one a sort of heartache. It is not exactly that I am afraid it will not last, for I can t see any reason why it should not ; it often puzzles me, that feeling of sadness that has no cause, for it comes whenever I hear very beautiful music, or see a glorious sunset, or stand and look far out to sea. Do you feel that way, too ? " "I used to, darling," replied her father, "but since I have grown older, and have known a little real trouble, the feeling of which you speak seldom comes back. Don t you remem ber, Miss Barrett, in the Lost Bower, speaks of those mild dejections in the starlight, which the sadder-hearted miss ? " "Yes, papa I always like that poem so much, for it makes me think of my grotto on the shore, somehow. And I think I know just what she meant it is not like real sad ness or unhappiness, after all, for it is quite as pleasant as it is painful. You know I always used to hide in the corner behind the sofa, and cry a little, when you and mamma sang together; and I do believe I should cry sometimes now, when I hear music, if I were not ashamed ! " "It is to be hoped, then, that Mr. Santon will not give us anything very pathetic," said her father, smiling, " for he 34 DORIS AND THEODORA. might not understand that your tears were a flattering tribute to his genius,, but might construe them in quite another way ! " " Very well, papa, if I feel that I really must cry, I shall make a face at you so! and then you will immediately offer me your arm for a turn on the veranda." Their road lay partly along the beach, or rather, near the edge of the rocky bluff above it. The blue water sparkled in the moonlight and gently lapped the shore, and Doris fell silent, listening and looking, until the carriage turned into the avenue through Mrs. Santon s plantation. A number of people were already assembled in the long, cool parlor ; they were all friends or acquaintances of the Campbells, so the only introduction was to Mr. Santon. He appeared to be about thirty-three or four years old, and was tall and commanding-looking. He was not handsome, but Lis face was pleasant and frank, with a look of sturdy reso lution which Doris liked. He had very early chosen music as his profession, beginning to study it while he was still at school, and going abroad for better opportunities to pursue vhis studies as soon as he came of age and into possession of his share of the small estate which his father had left. He was nine or ten years younger than Mrs. Santon, who was the widow of his only brother, and had an independent for tune of her own, but a very warm friendship subsisted be tween them, and he was more like an older brother than an uncle to her daughter and son. Antoinette Santon, a sweet and gentle girl about seven teen years old, had always been more or less an invalid, but, although unable to share Miss Robeston s instructions with the other girls, she had read and studied much; she was un selfishly bright and cheerful, and Doris sometimes thought of her with a little feeling of envy. It must be so easy to be good, she thought, lying there surrounded with every com- DORIS AND THEODORA. 35 fort and luxury which love could devise and money buy ; waited on, hand and foot; shut in from all the temptations and vexations which beset the lives of people who mix freely with the outside world. Seeing Antoinette, as she always did see her, prettily dressed, pleasantly occupied with books or fancy-work, she did not stop to consider the weary hours of pain and still more weary hours of weakness, when any occupation was impossible, which the poor girl passed in her beautiful prison. Victor Santon was two years older than his sister, and his devotion to her had had more effect than he knew in enno bling his life and character. He had elected to study under a tutor at home, rather than leave her to go to school and college, but now their first separation was about to take place. He had resolved to study theology, and it would be necessary for him to go, for at least two or three years, either to England or the United States. He had chosen the latter, and his uncle, instead of going directly there from England, as he had intended, had come out of his way, that he might accompany Victor, and see him fairly started in his new life. Antoinette, with her customary unselfishness, had spoken cheerfully and hopefully to Victor about their approaching separation; his letters would be so delightful he would have so much to tell, and then, what a joyful meeting there would be on his return ! But her face was paler even than usual, and her mother, who slept in an adjoining room, had heard her stifled sobbing in the night many times since the decision was made. There was a hum of conversation around Antoinette s sofa, at first ; many of the ladies had come distances of ten or twelve miles, and had not met each other before for days or weeks, and the talking and laughter threatened, Doris thought, to consume far too much of the precious time, 36 DORIS AND THEODORA. when one of the older ladies suddenly arrived at, and an nounced, the same conclusion, and there was an immediate silence. "I have told my sister what I think of this proceeding," said Mr. Santon, smiling, as he walked to the piano, "and she takes the sole responsibility, but that does not relieve me from a feeling that I am a fearful egotist! I shall make frequent pauses, in which to judge of how tired you are, and I promise to be merciful." A fresh hum of protestation and entreaty arose at this, and only ceased as Mr. Santon arranged his music on the rack, and struck a trial chord. It was not usual, then, for young girls to whisper and giggle during the performance of music ; so a profound silence was kept by the audience, at first from politeness, but very soon from delighted apprecia tion. The piano was a fine one, and Mr. Santon drew from it such music as Doris, at least, had never before listened to. She lost consciousness of time, place, everything, but the rapture of listening; her face flushed and paled, tears stole down her cheeks, but of this she was quite unaware. Her rapt expression was not lost on the performer ; he could see that all the rest were enjoying the music very fully, but no face was kindled with it as hers was, and he soon found himself playing for her alone. He had a very fine tenor voice, and he sang several bal lads, pronouncing the words so clearly that none were lost to his hearers. One of these, in particular, haunted Doris long afterward with its plaintive notes ; she was longing to ask what it was, when Mrs. Santon made the inquiry, and her brother replied : "The tune is an old Scotch air called Mrs. Macdonald, and I rather think the words are by Burns they were not intended for each other, originally, but they seemed to me to harmonize, so I fitted them together. They are too DORIS AND THEODORA. 37 mournful for ray liking, but I have observed that most happy people are especially fond of mournful music." He was asked to repeat the song, and obligingly did so, and by this means Doris, who had a quick ear both for music and rhyme, caught the air, and most of the words. Of one line, ending with " sweet painful pleasure," she failed to hear the rest, but the expression struck her, as expressing the feeling she had vainly tried to describe to her father. "Did you hear the words, Toinette ?" she whispered, as the singer paused. " Not all of them." Antoinette replied, " but it made me want to cry, and why, Doris, you are crying!" " Oh, I didn t know I hope nobody noticed ! " and Doris bent her flushed face still nearer to her friend s, but just then Mr. Santon began to play again, and every other sense was absorbed in that of hearing. The evening seemed all too short, and Doris raised entreat ing eyes to her father s face when Mrs. Santon begged that she, at least, would remain all night. "And condemn me to a lonely drive home ?" asked Mr. Campbell, half laughing, and half serious. " Oh no, papa, I did not think I will be ready in five minutes. Thank you, dear Mrs. Santon, but I did not think how selfish it would be to papa." She flew to get her shawl, and Mrs. Santon said to her father : " What a dear little thing she is, Mr. Campbell ; so warm hearted and impulsive. I wish Toinette might see her oftener; she comes in like a breath of fresh air." "Has she studied music?" inquired Mr. Santon, before Mr. Campbell could reply, adding, " I was struck by the ex pression of her face while I was playing ; I don t believe she was conscious of anything but the music, and her delight in it." 38 DORIS AND THEODORA. " She has been taking lessons for two years," said Mr. Campbell, much gratified, " and has made very fair progress, but she is impatient of the drudgery, and wants to run be fore she can walk ; she has a very quick ear, too ; and this has proved a hindrance, rather than a help, for her teacher says that if she once hears any thing played, she catches the tune by ear, and seems annoyed with being obliged to count." Doris had been saying good-bye to Antoinette and Hilda ; she approached now, a soft white shawl hanging from her shoulders, and a black lace veil tied loosely over her hair. " Will you introduce me ? " said Mr. San ton, in a low voice, to her father. "This is my daughter Doris, Mr. Santon," said Mr. Campbell, " and I need not tell you that she is happy to become acquainted with you her face tells that." " Oh, I am so much, so very much obliged to you ! " said Doris, looking up in his face with a glad light in her eyes, " I never heard such music before how happy you must be, to be able to play and sing as you did to-night!" " Yes, it is always pleasant to give pleasure," he answered, smiling; "it is one compensation for the hours of drudgery which lay the foundation of success in any calling." "Drudgery?" questioned Doris, wonderingly. "Yes, indeed," he said; "there is more or less of it in all professions, but I know of few in which there is so much as there is in mine." "But I thought that when people had genius " began Doris, and then stopped, unable to put her thought into satisfactory words. " Somebody has said that genius and industry are synon ymous terms," said Mr. Santon, when he saw that she was not going to finish her sentence, "and while I do not, per- DORIS AND THEODORA. 39 haps, wholly agree with the statement, I come very near doing so. "Will you allow my sister and myself to call for Miss Campbell, when we take our ride to-morrow morning ? " he asked, turning to Mr. Campbell ; " I fear I am detaining you now, and I do not feel as if we had finished our talk." "I will, with much pleasure," replied Mr. Campbell, "and I thank you for your kindness to my little girl, as, I am sure, she does, too." " Indeed, indeed, I do ! " said Doris, gratefully ; " I did so want to ask you some questions about music, but I did not suppose that I should have such a chance as this! " "Is it weak-minded, I wonder, to take pleasure in being so over-rated ?" said Mr. San ton. "I will not say good-bye, then ; will you be ready by five o clock ? " "Oh yes, quite ready I always go at about that time. Good-night!" And she sprang into the carriage before he could offer to help her. " Now, what a very nice, frank, unaffected little girl that is," said Mr. Santon to his sister, as they paced up and down the veranda in the moonlight, for by this time all the guests, save those who would remain all night, were gone. "I hope I can help her a little," he added. "I remem ber well how gaily I set out with her views, and the despair ing reaction that ensued when I began to see what I had undertaken. She looks to me as if she were governed, as yet, too much by impulse, and if she really has genius, or even talent, it is a pity it should be thrown away." " Not tired of converting the world yet, I sec, Louis," said his sister, smiling. He colored a little as he replied : " Not tired of trying to help it, you mean, my dear sister. 40 DORIS AND THEODORA. I hope I am not audacious enough to think that I can con vert even a small section of it." Meanwhile, Mr. Campbell and Doris were driving happily home. He had enjoyed the evening nearly as much as she had, and he was much gratified with Mr. Santon s kindly interest in his daughter. "Are you not afraid of oversleeping yourself, dear?" he asked, mischievously; "this is great dissipation for you you will not be in bed much before twelve o clock." "Oh, papa! As if I could, when anybody like Mr. San- ton you re laughing at me, you teasing father ! I might have known it, if I had stopped to think !" They had expected to find the house dark and silent, as it usually was at that hour, but, when they were about half way up the avenue, they saw that the front door was wide open, and that a bright light was burning in the hall. "I do believe," exclaimed Doris, "that mamma is sitting up for us, and she must have been so tired. Papa! there is a horse tied to the post it is a gray horse oh, papa!" and Doris seized her father s hand, her heart cold with a name less fear. "Drive faster, Gabriel," said Mr. Campbell, leaning for ward. " Yes, my darling, it is the doctor s horse ; baby must be worse. I ought not to have gone." They sat silent, hand closely clasped in hand, for the few minutes that intervened before the carriage stopped and they sprang out. Two or three of the servants were talking softly together in a corner of the hall, and as Doris passed them, she heard one of them say : "Yes, I knowed when de dawg howl dis mawnin , ? foh light, right neaf Miss Agnes window " Doris hurried on, covering her ears with her hands, dread ing to hear the rest. All the doors were wide open, for, although the outside DORIS AND THEODORA. 41 air was cool and pleasant, the house still retained heat from the long day of sunshine ; so they went directly to Mrs. Campbell s room. She was seated in the low rocking-chair, holding the baby on her lap, and Dr. Svensen stood close by, his large fingers clasping the baby s tiny wrist. Mrs. Campbell dared not move; she looked up in her husband s face, with eyes filled with tears, as she said : " Oh, Eobert, I am so thankful you have come baby has had a convulsion it was dreadful to see her." " And you were all alone with her, my poor darling! How can I ever forgive myself ? " And Mr. Campbell knelt down beside the chair, and drew his wife s head to his shoulder. Even that slight motion seemed to disturb the baby, who had been lying rigidly still. Her eyelids fluttered, she gave a pitiful little cry, and in a moment was again rigid in a convulsion. The doctor was calm and prompt, giving orders to the servants, and using the needed remedies, but it was nearly half an hour before the rigid limbs and set features re laxed. Doris looked on, her face as white as the baby s, until she could bear it no longer. Then she stole softly from the room, to throw herself on her own bed, in an agony of crying. " God is going to take her back," she moaned, " because I wouldn t love her. And that will kill mamma and papa, and it will all be my wickedness. Oh, if He will only let her stay, I will love her dearly. I will not be jealous and wicked any more. They may all love her best, if they want to they may call her daughter, and darling, and me just nothing but Doris all the time, and I will not say a word ! Oh, I have been so wicked, so mean ! As if they could not have loved us both love isn t like sugar or salt you don t take away from one person what you give to 42 DORIS AND THEODORA. another. Poor baby, poor, dear little suffering baby ; and nobody can help her she stayed in that dreadful fit, with the doctor trying with all his might to help her." She sobbed hopelessly for a few minutes. It seemed to her that she should never close her eyes again without seeing that pinched, marble-white little face. Then she slipped from the bed to her knees. Every night and morning, since her earliest recollection, she had said her prayers; to-night, for the first time in her life, she really prayed. " dear Father in heaven," she said, speaking aloud in her earnestness, "please to punish me, and help baby. Please, please don t let her suffer any more make it come to me instead. I have been very bad ; I am truly, truly sorry. If she may only get well, I will love her, I will be good to her, always. She shall never have any trouble that I can take instead. Please to punish me some other way any other way and save baby, for Christ s sake, Amen." A soft hand was laid on her head, and she saw that Nana was standing beside her. The old black woman gathered " her chile " into her arms, as she had done so many times when Doris was ill, or in trouble. Nana Lois had nursed Mrs. Campbell, and all her children, and she loved them with a love which would gladly have endured persecution and death for the sake of the beloved. " My little missy," she said, in the low, soft voice, and with the indescribable accent of her race, "does you tink Mass Robert would take de little baby, or you, and pinch you fingahs in de doah ? " Doris looked up, wondering if Nana Lois were losing her wits. " Why, Nana, you know he wouldn t," she said, sooth ingly ; "he loves us too dearly to hurt us in any way, or to let any one else hurt us, either." Dat s true as true ! And yet you tinks dear Fader above DORIS AND THEODORA. .43 would hurt little baby to punish you ! You musn t tink like dat, honey. If He take baby, dat because it best for baby, and you, and all ; dat why He tell us, jus say, <Dy will be done cause He know all about eberyting, and we don know nuffin. Now, will little missy please say Our Fader all de way t rough, and den Nana will undress her, like when she was a little baby, and put her to sleep. Baby s done come out n dat fit, and Dr. Svensen say she not have any moah, he quite certain shuah, and little missy on y gib trouble, if she go back to Miss Agnes room. She ll do what her Nana asks her, like a lamb ? " The low, sweet, persuasive voice prevailed. Doris was utterly worn out with excitement and fatigue; she said " Our Father " as she had never said it before, and then Nana undressed her, and "crooned" her to sleep, and she knew nothing more until dawn of the next day. She was so in the habit of taking an early ride, that she waked at her usual time, although Nana had carefully guarded her from all noise, hoping she would sleep. For the first few sleepy moments she forgot all the events of the night before; then a sense of trouble began to steal over her, and presently she remembered everything. She fell upon her knees, and prayed fervently, but this time for "help," and "whatever will be best for baby, and all of us." She was dressed when Nana stole softly to the door, and she found her father pacing the veranda. He held out his arms, saying, with a bright face : " Baby is much better, darling quite out of danger, and she and mamma are both sleeping sweetly. I have been waiting to tell you, for it is nearly five o clock, and as soon as you have had your glass of milk, I wish you to put on your riding-dress, and be ready for Mrs. Santon and her brother they will be here presently." " Oh, papa! I am so glad so thankful ! " and Doris hid 44 DORIS AND THEODORA. her face on her father s shoulder, to cry a few happy tears ; " but indeed, I wish you would excuse me to Mr. and Mrs. Santon it seems so heartless for me to go oif on a pleasure- trip, when baby is only just out of danger. I d really rather not go." " I wish you to go, darling," said her father, kindly, but very firmly ; "it will do you good, after the trouble and excitement of last night, and beside, you must not miss the rare chance of a talk with Mr. Santon. We will have a talk when you come back," he added, seeing how slowly and re luctantly she went; "now run you must not keep them waiting. " Very unwillingly Doris made ready, and started on the ride which she had anticipated with such keen delight. Victor Santon accompanied his mother and uncle, and this left the Professor free to talk with Doris. It was not long- before the sweet, cool air, the rapid motion, and Mr. San- ton s pleasant manner, made her oblivious of everything but the pleasure of the hour, and she never forgot that morn ing s talk. He tried, by argument and illustration, to con vince her of the necessity of patient, unremitting, plodding study, if she hoped to succeed as a musician, or anything else. She was skeptical, at first, but her skepticism had no foundation, while Mr. Santon could give abundant proof of the truth of his statements. "It will first discourage, and then inspire you, Miss Campbell," he said, "to read the lives of some of our world-renowned musicians, and see how they earned fame and fortune when they did earn both ; they did not, always. Why, even a circus-clown must give days and hours to practice before he can ride round the ring in appar ently careless fashion, balanced on his horse by one hand. Half nay, I really believe, all the dismal failures in this world are caused by an under-estimate of what is necessary DORIS AND THEODORA. 45 to secure success. It is better to look the question fairly in the face, at the outset, to weigh the price to be paid, and then decide, than to plunge in unthinkingly, and then draw back as soon as the way becomes really difficult. If you love music as I think you do, and have even a small amount of talent, you can become proficient enough to give a great deal of pleasure, both to yourself and other people, without devoting the whole of your life to it, but you must devote a fixed amount of time and undivided attention, or you will only add one to the great army of incapables which is im measurably too large, now." Doris was silent so long, after Mr. Santon ceased speaking, that he glanced at her face, thinking that perhaps his plain language had annoyed or offended her, but he soon saw that she was only thinking. " I see I have been very much mistaken," she said at last, " and if you had not been kind enough to tell me all this, I should have kept on in my mistake, until I, too, would have belonged to the army of incapables. I cannot say just, now what I shall do, Mr. Santon, but one thing I promise you : if I do not decide to give music the time and attention which I now see that it requires, I will ask papa and mamma to let me give it up altogether. I will not be a smatterer." " It gives me real pleasure to hear you say that," said Mr. Santon, heartily, "for I feel nearly sure that you will de cide to keep on. You love it too well, I think, to draw back " Might I not love it too well to keep on ? " asked Doris, smiling. "Yes, I suppose you might," assented Mr. Santon, "but it would be a weak love, compared with the other. Would it help you at all, Miss Campbell," he added, suddenly, "to 46 DORIS AND THEODORA. write to me occasionally, as you come to any special difficulty, and allow me to write to you ? " " It would, indeed," said Doris, earnestly and gratefully, but, as he noticed, without the bright enthusiasm of the night before, " that is, of course, should I decide to keep on. I must think well about it, first ; but I shall thank you just the same for your great kindness, whichever way I decide." "I feel so nearly sure of your decision," said Mr. San ton, smiling, "that I shall ask your father s permission to write to you before I leave the Island." This permission Mr. Campbell very willingly granted. He had known Mr. Santon sa a boy, and afterward, at intervals, as a man, and he had never seen anything to cause him to change his opinion, formed many years ago, of the manly, honest, earnest boy, who had done with his might whatever mind or hand found to do. Mr. Santon said good-bye that morning, for he expected to sail on the following day, and his remaining time would be fully occupied. . Victor, too, had his good-byes to say. He had been not a little disappointed when he found how com pletely Doris was absorbed by his uncle ; he and she had been playmates and comrades from the time when, seated on the floor, he had with baby hospitality, permitted her to ap propriate all his toys, and even to pull his hair, and he had counted upon a farewell talk with her. His disappointment showed so plainly in his face, as he held out his hand, saying simply : " Good-bye, Doris. Don t forget me, if you can help it," that she expressed her regret for his departure with frank friendliness, telling him how much they should all miss him. " And you ll go to see Toinette often ? " he said, entreat- ingly. " She has been just as cheerful and sweet as she always is, but I know how she will miss me." DORIS AND THEODORA. 47 "Indeed I will," said Doris, heartily; "Fm so fond of Toinette, that it will be a real pleasure to do it, hut I would go, anyhow, if you asked me, just to please you! " Victor s face brightened perceptibly, but his grateful reply was cut short by his uncle s brisk " Come, my boy, we must hurry home ; we ve a good deal to do between this and to-morrow evening." Doris stood watching them until a turn in the avenue hid them from sight. "It s like the end of a chapter in a book, papa," she said, " and I really shall miss Victor like like everything. Has mamma waked yet ? " "Yes, dear, she is nearly ready for breakfast," replied Mr. Campbell, "but baby is still sleeping like a lamb, and the doctor felt so relieved about her, that he went home to have his bath and breakfast, and see if he were urgently needed elsewhere." Doris drew a long sigh of relief, as she said : "I am so glad, so thankful ! Papa, I must tell you : when I saw poor baby looking so dreadful last night, I was afraid God meant to take her back again, because I had never been able to be glad she came. I know the reason now. I was jealous ; I was afraid you, and mamma, and Leonard, and even Ntma, would love her better than they loved me, and I felt as if I could not stand that. And then it seemed to me that she was upsetting all our nice, pleasant ways ; that mamma could never go about with us as she did before baby came. But when I thought she was going to die, I am sure I felt just as if I were a murderer, and I prayed God to punish me, and let her live. But Nana talked to me ; she doesn t think God does things to punish us, but only to help us, and make us better. Do you think that too, papa ? " " Indeed I do, darling. Do you not remember He doth not afflict willingly ? We saw the struggle that was going 48 DORIS AND THEODORA. on, and your mother and I have prayed that you might be given strength to overcome. We shall not love you any less because we love baby too love is not measured and weighed. I sometimes think that the more people any one really loves, the more truly and perfectly he loves each one. It is a poor and selfish and low form of love which wishes to engross, or to be engrossed, very different from that Divine love which is held up to us for a pattern." " But papa/ said Doris, a little doubtfully, " don t you really care ? don t you like to be loved best ? " " Of course I do, darling, and I suppose everybody does ; that is human nature ; but the Divine nature will be given to us, if we really want it, and, with the heart filled with that, envy and jealousy will vanish." CHAPTER III. IT was not in Doris s nature to do anything by half. The battle had been a fierce one, and the surrender was complete. Not that she did not often find the evil thoughts recurring, but now they were promptly suppressed. A rule which her mother had long ago given her for the conquering of resentment and ill-feeling, she applied now. " Pray for help, my darling, but don t stop there," Mrs. Campbell said ; " try to think of some kind act to do for the person with whom you are angry, and I think you will gen erally find, as you do it, that your anger is vanishing." She did not always succeed in doing this, by any means; for impulse, with her, so often outran thought, that scarcely a day passed on which she did not say something she would gladly have recalled. Often it seemed to her that the struggle was a hopeless one, that defeat was so frequent, and victory so rare, that it was not worth while to keep on con tending with herself; but here her naturally strong will would come to the rescue her dislike of yielding to others was almost equaled by her aversion to yielding to herself ! As soon as she began really to notice the baby, she went far beyond her father and mother in praise of its "sweetness." The uncertain little smiles on its puckered face, the groping hands that were learning to clutch her fingers, the soft, inarticulate noises which, she declared, were attempts at speech, all filled her with a new delight. And very soon the baby began unmistakably to know her, and to greet her with feeble little crows and chuckles. The demon of jealousy was very nearly vanquished, when this took place, 3 50 DORIS AND THEODORA. for love reigned instead. Day by day she discovered new beauties ; it was "Oil, mamma, just look! her hair is long enough to curl round my finger, and it s like spun gold ! " or, " She s made a little dimple in her chin since she s learned really to laugh, mamma !" or, " I do believe her darling little feet arc prettier than her hands no, perhaps they re not prettier, but at any rate, they are quite as pretty ! " "It is too bad to keep on calling her baby, " Doris said one day; "I wish we could think of the right name for her, mamma." " If she were not such a very unusual and superior baby," said Mr. Campbell, gravely, " she would doubtless have been named long ago. Suppose we wait until she is nine or ten years old, Doris, and let her choose a name for herself ; we can give her a temporary name, just for convenience." Doris shook her head wisely. " That would not do at all, papa. She might chose to be called something that none of us liked. Papa, there is a name that I saw in a book the other day with its meaning, and I thought it was so beautiful." " What was it, dear ? " "Theodora; and the meaning was The gift of God. Don t you think that s lovely ? Don t you, mamma ? " " Yes," said Mrs. Campbell, " it is a pretty name in itself, and the meaning gives it a real value. What do you think, papa?" "I quite agree with you," replied Mr. Campbell; " I have always liked the name, and I wonder we did not think of it before. But it will never do to shorten it into Dora, or we shall be mixing our daughters up." "Why, papa, they only sound a little alike," said Doris, and, at any rate, we could call her Theo; that s a pretty nickname enough, and nobody can say that is like Doris." DORIS AND THEODORA. 51 "Very well/ said Mr. Campbell, smiling at Doris s ear nestness; " if mamma is willing, I am sure I am what do you say, mamma ? Shall it be Theodora ? " " With all my heart," said Mrs. Campbell ; " I like it better than any of the names of which we have thought, and I am sure baby will thank you, daughter, when she is old enough to understand about it." Doris was greatly pleased. She had an added sense of ownership in the baby, from being allowed to name her, and there began to be a slight danger that this absorbing baby would keep her older sister from giving a due amount of time and attention to her studies. From the 25th of July to the 25th of October the fierce winds of the hurricane season prevail in Santa Cruz. The former is kept in the churches as a day of prayer and inter cession ; the latter, as a day of thanksgiving. This day of thanksgiving occurred immediately after the baby s recovery from the illness which had so terrified Doris, and it seemed to the young girl that she had never before knelt in the little church with a heart so truly and humbly grateful. To her thanksgiving for the general safety of life and property for the season had been an unusually mild one was added a special thanksgiving for the little life which had so nearly gone out. " I feel as if I must do something to show how thankful I am, mamma," she said that evening, as she was engaged in her self-appointed duty of helping to give the baby her bed time bath. " It doesn t seem to me enough just to say I am thankful, when I think how I should have felt if Theo had died that dreadful night. In old times, people used to make thank-offerings in churches; the kings and queens and powerful people would build cathedrals and endow monas teries, and the others, who could not do so much, would 52 DORIS AND THEODORA. give money or go on a crusade. It must have been splendid to be alive then, must it not, mamma?" Yes, dear, on many accounts ; but only for the rich and great people. If you could read a faithful history of the everyday lives of those who were no higher in station than we are, for instance, I do not think you would wish those old days back again. And as for the thank-offering, we can make that out of our daily lives, and it will be far more valuable and acceptable than any of the rich gifts which could only be given once. We all have inclinations, and tempers, and habits, which hinder and beset us, and these we can strive, with our Father s help, to give up." "Yes, mamma," said Doris, slowly; "I can see what you mean, but it s a great deal harder than the other way ! It seems so strange that we can t kill the badness in ourselves with just one good, strong blow, as we would kill a snake or a centipede, instead of having to kill the same thing over and over again, every day, and ever so many times a day, all our lives it s most dreadfully discouraging, when one really thinks of it ! Now, don t you think it is, yourself?" " I would think so, darling, if it were not for the sure promise of help according to our need. When we fail, it is because we neglect this help. We cannot even think and resolve as we should, without it; with it we can do all things. And when we think about that side of it that we are fighting with Him to help us, who is mighty to save, it does not seem so hard." Doris said nothing more just then, but her mother knew that she would keep on thinking until she arrived at some conclusion. There was a curious mixture, in her character, of great honesty and frankness with a kind of shy reserve, and her mother knew by experience that often, when she seemed to take but slight notice of what was said, it sunk deep. Doris had begun to realize that she was not giving DORIS AND THEODORA. 53 due attention to her studies, and after this talk with her mother she very soon resumed her former diligence. The music question had by no means been forgotten. She loved music dearly, and had always had a vague intention of becoming proficient in it by the time when she should be grown up and considered old enough to enter society ; but this had seemed so far ahead that she had never felt as if there were any hurry. Since her talk with Mr. Santon, however, she had become convinced that she was mistaken, and that, if she really meant to achieve success, she must begin at once, and in thorough earnest, as he said. Her parents had left her perfectly free to choose whether she would go on, according to her new light upon the subject, or give it up entirely, and they quite agreed with her that it had better be one or the other that there were more than enough "well-smattered" performers, whose performance gave no one, not even themselves, any particular pleasure, and that the hour a day, which she had been in the habit of giving to her practicing, could be better bestowed upon something else. Her real love for music, and the considera tion of the pleasure she might give to others, finally pre vailed over the shrinking from an arduous undertaking which held her back, and she decided to keep on in good earnest, always to practice two hours a day, at the very least, and longer, when she could spare the time without neglect ing other duties. But among these duties, her mother told her, would be the daily exercise in the open air, to which she was accustomed. Mrs. Campbell knew that the enthusiasm with which Doris pursued whatever she under took made her, for a time at least, inclined to neglect ordi nary duties and pleasures, and when Doris pleaded that the early morning hours, with (heir quiet and coolness, were so particularly well adapted for her practicing, Mrs. Campbell replied that they were still better suited to out-door exercise, 54 DORIS AND THEODORA. and that later in the day, when the heat was too great for the latter, the house was cool and pleasant/and there was nothing to interfere with her practicing, either before or after school. She did not ride every day ; very often a walking-party would be arranged the evening before, and she, with four or five of her schoolmates, would set off in the sweet coolness of the early dawn for some point of interest on the sea shore, or at some neighboring plantation. Little baskets of dried rusk and fruit, prepared by the orders of the careful mothers, were carried until some sufficiently pleasant spot was reached, and then the girls made a merry picnic of their "first breakfast." It was much more romantic than if each had quietly eaten it at home before starting, and without it fatigue and exhaustion would have undone the benefit derived from the refreshing breezes of the new day. The sound already spoken of, made by the wind among the stiff blades of the cocoa-nut palm, was peculiarly audible at this quiet time; there were not many singing-birds in that latitude, but this fact made the girls listen more eagerly, and exclaim with greater pleasure when a stray bird song was heard. The brightly flowering hedges of BarbadoeS thorn, which is always in bloom, diversified by hedges of aloes and date-palms, and the cactus or prickly pear, added their beauties to the landscape, while the feathery fronds of the cocoanut-palms waved softly against the deep blue of the sky. At this hour of the morning the planters would be riding about, inspecting the work done the day before, and giving orders for the day. All in the neighborhood were on most friendly terms with each other, and many were the invitations tendered to the merry party to stop for the eight o clock breakfast, and, when these were courteously de clined, fresh fruit was urged upon their acceptance. A very old Avoman, whose only known name was Semira, kept her- DORIS AND THEODORA. 55 self provided with many small comforts by selling a pleasant drink made by steeping chips of the maube wood in water, and fermenting it, as mead is fermented; the drink thus made was cool and refreshing, and not in the least intoxi cating. It must be freshly made every day, as it will not keep more than twenty-four hours ; so the old maube woman and the members of the walking-party were equally glad to meet each other. Semira would go home with her bottles lightened by numerous glasses of her stock-in-trade, and her wrinkled black face still more wrinkled with smiles at the compliments of the " little missies " and the thought of the pennies in her pocket. Home must be reached in time for a fresh toilet before the eight o clock breakfast, at which one or two neighbors and friends often joined the family. This meal was much like an ordinary breakfast in the Southern States, but there were some things which one would not find the Avocada pear is always on the table, a large, pear- shaped fruit called by the negroes the " alligator pear." The seed is one-third the size of the whole fruit, and looks like a large, brown nut ; the flesh of the pear looks something like that of a very ripe pumpkin, or vegetable-marrow, but is much softer, and is sometimes cut in thin slices and dressed with oil and vinegar, as a salad. Bananas and roasted yams, and a griddle-cake peculiar to the West Indies, called by a Span ish name, Arepa, were the other things which would have attracted the notice of a foreigner. To this breakfast all usually came with a hearty appetite- Mrs. Campbell from a walk in the veranda or the grounds, Mr. Campbell from his inspection of the estate, and Doris from her early walk or ride. Plans and projects for the day were discussed, and the meal was always a cheerful one. It was usually time, at its conclusion, for Doris to make ready for school, that she might walk slowly, and not be obliged to hurry in the hourly-increasing heat. She liked, too, to 5G DORIS AND THEODORA. reach the school-house before the opening hour, that she might have a little talk with her schoolmates. Miss Anna s historical plan had roused them all, as she hoped it would, to a vivid and personal interest in history ; characters were chosen, attacked, and defended with a warmth which some times threatened to overstep the bounds of good-nature ; but one day, when a rash and contradictious young woman had entered upon a defence of Henry VIII. of England, and two or three tempers seemed in imminent danger of loss by fire, Hilda s clear, cool voice cut short the discussion with "They have all been dead for some time, my dears, and I am afraid that even what we say concerning them can have no possible effect either upon them or upon the world at large ! " " Perhaps not, Miss Snow-in-summer," said Christine Lar- sen, after she had joined in the general laugh, "but don t you see that our views upon this, and all subjects, are of the greatest importance to ourselves ? They are indicative of character, and, measurably, of fate, for a girl who could de liberately contend that Henry the Eighth was a misguided man, with noble intentions and lofty motives " u Would make such a good special pleader, that it is a very great pity she cannot have an opportunity to study law, and a wide field in which to practice it," interrupted Hilda, just in time to avert an ending of the sentence "more striking than classic; " and fortunately at this juncture Miss Anna appeared upon the scene, and the bell was rung. Doris by no means foi-got her promise to Victor Santon about his sister ; something had been said which led her to think that Antoinette felt her imprisonment more on Sun day than at any other time, and Doris fell into the habit of spending Sunday afternoon with her friend, reading aloud, and discussing what they read. Mr. Campbell usv.ally came for his daughter early in the evening, for the tropical t\vi- DORIS AND THEODORA. 57 light is very brief, and the darkness falls suddenly, in a man ner which is always a surprise to one unaccustomed to it. To Doris s hopeful nature, it seemed quite probable that Antoinette might some day recover, and be able to walk and ride, and enjoy all the youthful pleasures from which she was now so sadly cut off ; but the invalid girl herself had no such hope, and gently checked her friend whenever she be gan to indulge in castle-building of this nature. Victor s letters to his sister were long and affectionate, and always contained some special message for Doris, and the latter sometimes wrote replies to these letters from her friend s dictation, when Antoinette was feeling unusually weak or ill. Mr. Santon had written once to Doris, very much as he had talked with her, concluding his letter by saying that he awaited her decision with much interest, and she had replied, somewhat shyly and briefly, acquainting him with it. Antoinette entered warmly into the subject, and her encouragement had influenced Doris more than either of them knew. " I can t have a career of my own, you know, Doris," An toinette had said, on one occasion, when they were discussing the pros and cons, "so I shall take a lively concern in the careers of all my friends all that have any, that is, for some of the girls really don t seem to care for any one thing more than they do for five or six others, and that always puzzles me, and provokes me too, a little, for it seems so absurd." " That is just what Miss Anna says," replied Doris, "not exactly in those words, perhaps, but it s what she means. She is trying very hard to make each of us find out what we like most to do, and can do best, and I could see, although she is so gentle, that she felt sort of impatient about the ones who did not know, or could not make up their minds." "Can you remember what any of them chose?" asked 58 DORIS AND THEODORA. Antoinette, eagerly. " I should so like to know that is, of course, if you are sure they would not mind your telling." " Oh, no," said Doris, "I know they would not mind, for we have all talked of it more or less at our homes, and before a number of people, and I think I remember most, if not all of them, for of course there was a good deal of argument and discussion." " Well, then, begin with Hilda Ufling, please she inter ests me so. I never feel sure that she cares a pin for me, but she is so beautiful that I can t help loving her it s partly because she always seems strong, and calm, and cool, and makes me think of the princesses and enchanted people in the fairy stories I used to be so fond of and am yet, for that matter. What did Hilda say she would like best to be?" " She laughed a little, in that still way she has, and said she would like best of all to be a queen, but, as that would probably be out of the question, she thought she should be an artist and then Miss Anna laughed, too, and said she commended her wisdom in providing herself with an alter native." "That sounds like Miss Anna I shouldn t like to say anything foolish where she could hear me. I sometimes wonder that you all seem so little afraid of her, when she is so clever, and says such exceedingly appropriate things. What did Christine Larsen choose?" " She said that, as Hilda had mentioned her first choice, regardless of possibility, she would do the same ; that she would really prefer to be a great military commander, with a vast and devoted army under her control, but as this was out of the question, at least for the present, she was going to try to induce her mother to give her the entire charge of the plantation, as soon as her education was finished, and let her introduce improvements and reforms as she saw fit. We DORIS AND THEODORA. 59 all laughed more or less at this we couldn t help it, and she did not seem to mind, for she laughed too she s such a lit tle bit of a thing, you know, that one or another of us is always picking her up, and it seemed so perfectly ridiculous for her to talk of taking the sole charge of that immense plantation and all those negroes you know it is the largest place on the island, "Toinette." "Yes, I know, but I don t feel so sure that her idea is absurd, Doris. She has a small body, but she has the clear est mind and the most strength of character of any of us, it seems to me, and I believe she could do it, if she could be induced to put herself under your father, or Mr. Barrett, for a little while first, and learn all they could teach her. And I like her for wanting to do it no matter how good an over seer we have, I always feel afraid that he is not treating the servants as kindly as they would be treated if papa were liv ing. What did Clara Barrett choose ? " " She said she wanted to be matron of an orphan asylum ! It sounds funny for me to tell it, but it didn t a bit as she said it, for she looked so sweet, and good, and earnest she s a dear girl." " Yes, it was just like her and Jane ? " "She said she would like to be a reformer to be allowed to go about making speeches, as if she were a man, exposing all sorts of wrong things, and helping to set them right. I couldn t help thinking she had begun to do that already you ought to see her black eyes snap, if anybody says any thing mean, or gossipy, or against an absent person ! But I don t think she realizes how much influence she has in that way." " I wonder if any of us realizes her influence," said Antoi nette, thoughtfully. " I am inclined to think it is greater and farther-reaching than we usually imagine. But what did Grace and Sara choose ? " 60 DORIS AND THEODORA. "They wouldn t choose at all, at first they just giggled, and said they didn t suppose they would ever have to do anything, that their father gave them everything they wanted ! Miss Anna was very patient, and explained to them that it was better for everybody to be doing some one thing earnestly, and then they would not be so likely to be led into foolishness; she didn t say it like that, of course, but that was what she meant. She asked them to try to think if there were not someone thing that they did best, and liked best to do, and at last Grace said that she liked real well to trim bonnets and hats, and then Sara took courage, and said she liked to make dresses. And Miss Anna did not laugh, as we were nearly sure she would; she said both these occu pations were very useful, and might some day be necessary, and that if she were Grace or Sara, she would learn all she could about those things, and try to do them as well as they could possibly be done. I am sure they thought we would laugh at them, and so we should have done, if it hadn t been for Miss Anna ; but when she spoke so kindly and encour agingly, they brightened up wonderfully, and Grace told how Sara helped the servants to cut out and fit their nice clothes, especially for the little children, and Sara flushed np, and said Grace needn t talk she trimmed all their best bonnets for them, and often gave them the trimmings, too ! Miss Anna looked lovely, then, and she said " My future queens and generals might perhaps fill in the time, while they are waiting for their realms and armies, by some such little everyday deeds of kindness it will not incapacitate them for reigning and ruling, if the time for them to reign and rule should ever come. " We all looked foolish, I think I know I felt so for it turned out that the ones we had all felt so superior to, were almost the only ones who were really doing anything for anybody but themselves." DORIS AND THEODORA. 61 "Miss Anna is very observant," said Antoinette, smiling; " it is quite probable she bad seen tbe little airs of all you gifted ones to the two everyday girls, and had that talk partly for your enlightenment and edification. I didn t ask what you chose, Doris, because I think I can guess but are you really going to choose it in earnest, dear ? I do so hope you are ! " Doris looked troubled and perplexed. "I don t know, Toinette," she said, slowly. "I never had any difficulty about deciding anything before. I always knew right away what I wanted, or didn t want, but some how I don t seem able to make up my mind about this. If I begin by thinking of the pleasant part of it the being able to play at sight, and to fit accompaniments and a bass to any tune, and of all the pleasure I could give, as well as take, then I am ready to say I will do it, no matter how much time and hard work I have to give to it. But then, if I begin the other way, and remember all the things your uncle told me, and how positive he was that, unless I were sure of persevering and really conquering, I had better not undertake it, then I am ready to give it up, and stop taking lessons altogether ; for we are quite agreed mamma and papa and I that it had better be one thing or the other I am not going to be one of the eleven thousand virgins who play a little, and not without their notes! Do you re member that lovely Miss Nelson, who was visiting the Bar retts, a year ago ? There was hardly a thing that anybody asked for that she didn t know, and she played and sang at sight, and made up accompaniments as soon as she had heard an air once or twice, and always consented at once, when anybody asked her, instead of making a foolish fuss, and waiting to be coaxed, the way so many girls do. And I heard several people say that she played more delightfully for dancing than any one they had ever heard. She seemed DORIS AND THEODORA. 63 Toinctte opened the table-drawer, and took out a fresh copy of the little book, saying brightly " You shall do better than that I have been waiting for a chance to give you one, for some time. I always keep several by me, for I love it so myself that I want every one else to love it too ; but I like to wait for a good chance to give it. I think if one pokes such things at people, they sometimes do more harm than good." "You never would," said Doris, affectionately, "and I am ever so much obliged to you, dear. Will you please write my name and yours in it, and the date ?" So Antoinette- wrote, in the fine clear hand which Hilda always said was "characteristic," and then it was time for Doris to go home. She was rather silent, the rest of the evening, and the next day she announced that her resolution was taken she would keep on with her music, in thorough earnest. Her mother and father were much pleased, and she saw then how disappointed they would have been, had she decided to give it up. And in answer to her shy little note to Mr. Santon, telling him of her decision, she received, in a few weeks, the kindest and most encouraging of letters, and a renewed invitation to write all her perplexities to him, and allow him to help her in any way that he could. OHAPTEE IV. THE surroundings of Doris s home, and, indeed, the home itself, were so entirely different from those with which most of the readers of her story are familiar, that it may not be amiss to describe them before going farther. " The great house," as the master s dwelling was usually called, to distinguish it from the homes of the overseer and negroes, was always at a distance from " the quarters" where the negroes lived, on some plantations quite the distance of a city square, on others, not so far. Mr. Campbell s front door was reached by twelve or fifteen wide stone steps, which ended at an uncovered stone-paved piazza, some twenty feet square. Opening upon this was a spacious hall, with doors upon three sides, leading into drawing-room, music-room, library, dining-room, pantries, and kitchen, all conveniently arranged for the comfort of the family. The basement was used for store-rooms of various kinds, and, on a plantation such as Mr. Campbell owned, was none too large for the purpose. There were only two stories above the basement, and the second of these was divided into commodious sleeping and dressing-rooms. The former contained little furniture beside the bed, in order that the air might have free circulation ; each bed was draped entirely in white, and from frames around the tops of the high posts hung curtains of the very thin muslin called by the natives " leno," as a protection not only against mos quitoes, but against other flying insects, for at some seasons of the year even cockroaches take wings, and become very troublesome. DORIS AND THEODORA. 65 Some houses were built with only one story above the base ment, but in most cases there were two. At "the quarters" each house stood in its own little garden, and was shaded by some of the beautiful trees which grow in this latitude cocoa-palms, the immense tamarind- trees, the large, shady thibet-trees, and many varieties of fruit-trees. Streets, laid out at right angles, divided the rows of cottages, or rather, the rows of lots in which the cottages stood, for each one had its apportionment of land, which the owner cultivated as he pleased, and the diversity of taste and judgment manifested by the different owners added greatly to the picturesqueness of the scene. At least one large fruit-tree overshadowed each door, and the fruit was invariably gathered with care, and taken to the nearest town for sale. A small outside kitchen, unconnected with the house, stood upon each plot of ground, that there might be no necessity for a tire within doors. Vegetables, as well as fruit, were raised and sold by the more thrifty of the negroes, and many little comforts, and even luxuries, were brought back from the market-town ; gay articles of clothing, such as were not provided by their masters, furniture and adorn ments for their houses, and articles of food which did not come within their reach in the plantation supplies. Some few among them, denying themselves everything but the food and clothing provided for them, and even disposing of part of this, as they had opportunity, set themselves steadily to work to buy their freedom, and, when this was accom plished, that of those nearest and dearest to them. But these were exceptional cases ; most of them were quite content with their lot, and satisfied with their accommoda tions. Where the families were large, two cottages were given ; every week rations were served of Indian meal, wheat 66 DORIS AND THEODORA. or rye flour, yams,, potatoes, pumpkins, and salt fish or meat. A change of diet was made each week, and was always welcome. Two or three suits of strong, comfortable clothing were given every year, besides the Christmas-gifts, of better quality and larger quantity. Time was allowed them to take their various wares to the nearest town for sale, and to make their own purchases, and they had farther opportunities for the latter, in the frequent visits of peddlers, generally women, with their baskets and bundles of dry- goods and small wares. With but few exceptions, the negroes were an industrious and amiable people, clean and neat in their persons and in their homes. Many were intelli gent, and learned to read whenever they had opportunity. Their attachment to their own " white folks" was fre quently very great, especially that of nurses for the children of whom they had taken charge. Doris s " Nan a," as has been said, had nursed Mrs. Campbell in her infancy, and still called her "Miss Agnes;" she could be implicitly trusted, and her tender care of the delicate little baby now in her charge made Mrs. Campbell declare, laughingly, that she herself was jealous that Nana was bestowing more love and solicitude upon the little Theodora, than she had given to all her other charges put together ! "Now, Miss Agnes, me chile," Nana would say, deprecat- ingly, "you knows dat isn t de right ting to say! You, and you sistah and bruddah all strong, hearty chillens no feah you not be well, and little Missy all de same, but dis little picaninny needs powahful sight moah tendin . We raise her up, please de good Lawd, but we s boun to watch out all time, and not let her slip troo our han s." And indeed, the baby owed health, if not life, to this tender, unremitting care; for whenever Mrs. Campbell was called away by the many duties of a home such as hers, Nana s tireless arms, and gentle, crooning voice were ready DORIS AND THEODORA. 67 to soothe and comfort the often fretful child. Doris won dered at the perfect patience with which Nana would rock and sing, rock and sing, while the baby, with wide-open eyes, seemed more and more resolutely determined not to go to sleep ; seemingly, Nana felt amply rewarded by her nursling s clinging love ; the frail, white little hands soon learned to stray caressingly over the smooth black cheeks, and the baby s first audible laughter was when she dis covered, and pulled heartily, a little tail of Nana s neatly- plaited wool, which had somehow escaped from the high Madras handkerchief wound artistically about the shapely head. Mrs. Campbell had always been in the habit of collecting the negro children early Sunday morning on the stone piazza, and holding a sort of Sunday-school. Many of the fathers and mothers came to look and listen ; there was always quiet and good behavior, but the singing was the part of the exercises most thoroughly enjoyed. In this the older people were invited to join, and they did it with a will. In after-times, the sound of one of the familiar hymns sung at these gatherings never failed to bring tears to Doris s eyes, as the whole scene would rise clearly before her the rows of smiling black faces, the gay clothing, put on in honor of the day, her mother s sweet, gentle face, intent with the effort to make the lesson clear to each of her pupils, and all around the freshness of early day, and the gently- waving trees and grass. Doris had begun of late, with many misgivings as to her ability and fitness, to help her mother with this self-appointed task, and she was soon deeply interested in the work. She had a happy way with children, and soon the little class of the youngest ones, which her mother had entrusted to her, was enthusiastically fond of her, and she found no trouble in teaching it, save the above-mentioned doubts concerning 68 DORIS AND THEODORA. herself. She unconsciously learned much in this way. After putting the meaning of the short lesson into plain and simple words, and asking questions which would lead her little pupils to see how it might be applied to their daily living, in always telling the truth, being perfectly honest and just about the rights of others, speaking ill of no one, not being selfish and indolent, believing that their friends and companions meant kindly by them until it was very certain indeed that they did not, a time of self-question ing was sure to follow, and a sense of humiliation at her own short-comings. She was naturally inclined to rather harsh and hasty opinions, and her mother observed, with heartfelt pleasure, a new gentleness and consideration, not only for the rights, but for the weaknesses and faults, of others. She was learning to suspend judgment, to be willing to believe that there might be extenuating facts and circum stances, of which she was ignorant. Not long after she began teaching the children, the father of two whom she particularly fancied, a man named Glas gow, of powerful frame, and more than ordinary intelligence and faithfulness, met with a sad accident in the sugar-house. A heavy cask which he was helping to move broke loose from the rope which held it back, and rolled down upon him, breaking one of his legs, and injuring him internally. Doc tor Svensen was called immediately, and did everything in his power for the poor fellow s comfort, for he saw at once that recovery was impossible. The immense frame, and full health, before the accident, of the patient, only served, now, to increase his sufferings ; but opiates finally stilled the pain, although without rendering Glasgow unconscious. Miss Svensen had come with her father when he was first called, as she frequently did in cases of this kind, and had shown Hagar, Glasgow s wife, how best to care for him, arid pre pare his food. The poor woman, after the passionate burst DORIS AND THEODORA. 69 of crying to which she gave way when her husband was first brought home, went about calm and tearless, but with a look upon her face which drew tears from Miss Christina s kind eyes. Glasgow had shown, throughout, the patient courage which had always been one of his marked character istics, restraining the groans which rose to his lips, that he might not farther distress his wife. As soon as the pain was quelled, a look of peace and perfect resignation stole over his face, and whenever he felt able to speak, he tried gently to comfort Hagar. He had read and studied a good deal, and did not use the dialect of most of the other negroes; only a soft accent remained, and this was very pleasant to the ear. He lingered for several days before death released him, and in this time Mr. and Mrs. Campbell were with him as often as they could possibly take the time. It was not only be cause they knew how it would gratify both him and his wife, that they went he had been a trusted friend, rather than a servant, and they felt keenly how great his loss would be to them. Long ago he had deposited with Mr. Campbell a sum sufficient to buy the freedom of himself, his wife, and their two children, but his deep attachment to the family and the place deprived him of all wish to assert his freedom. More than once Mr. Campbell had suggested to him that changes might occur that in case of his own death, and that of his wife, before Doris was of age, unscrupulous persons might, and very probably would, take advantage of his conBdence; but Glasgow was obstinate. The last time it had been talked over between them, he had answered, almost impa tiently " You made that paper, Master, and wrapped it up with my money, and that tells what the money is for, and if any thing happens to you and my Mistress God forbid it should, while I live Miss Doris would make the folks that had to see to it do me justice, whether she was of age or not. I m 70 DORIS AND THEODORA. not afraid. I mean no manner of disrespect, sir, I hope you know that, but when you talk this way, it makes me feel like you wanted to be rid of me. And I couldn t live any where else I should die before a year was out, away from my own white folks. Please, please, Master, don t say any thing more about us being free ! " There was such real distress in the honest fellow s face when he said this, that Mr. Campbell grasped his hand, and promised him not to mention the subject again, unless it be came really necessary, and Glasgow went off quite happy, and sang about his work, that day, even more than usual. This was only a few weeks before the accident, and Mr. Campbell felt constrained to ascertain Glasgow s last wishes about his wife and children. The latter were Cudjoe, a boy of fifteen, and Parecn, a bright little girl of twelve. There had been several other children, who had died when very yonng, and upon the two that remained the father s love and hopes were greatly set. It was just before sunset on the day after Glasgow s hurt, and Mr. Campbell, seated near the bed, took in his own the large, strong-looking hand, cold and weak now, which lay outside the neat white coverlet, and said gently " I don t wish to distress you, my poor boy, but I must know, while you are still able to tell me, what you wish done about Hagar and Cudjoe and Pareen, after you are gone. Can you tell me now ? " The negro feebly pressed his master s hand, and looked into his face with eyes full of loving trust. "I was hoping, Master," he said slowly, "that if Cudjoe grew up likely and honest and sober, the way I ve tried to teach him, that may-be you d put him in my place, when I was gone I didn t think I d go so soon. And dear little Missy promised Hagar, many a time, that if her mamma was willing, she would take Pareen for her own maid, and have DORIS AND THEODORA. 71 her taught to sew, and be nice and handy about the house. That s what I d like best, Master, if you see fit not other- ways." "It shall be done," said Mr. Campbell, promptly; "I have noticed both Cudjoe and Pareen a good deal, and have never seen anything to find fault with in either of them. As soon as Cudjoe seems old enough to take your place, he shall do so, and Pareen shall come into the great house whenever her mother is willing to spare her. But I think it will be only right to let them know that they are able to buy their free dom, if they should wish to do so, and also something else, which I only learned yesterday. There is a talk of the Gov ernment freeing all the slaves by degrees, that is, proclaim ing all free at twenty-one years of age, who shall be born after a certain date, and all who are slaves now, free after a term of years ; if this goes into effect, as many of us most of us, in fact hope that it will, Cudjoe and Pareen would only have to be patient for a few years, and then they would have not only their freedom, but a good sum on which to support their mother and themselves until they could find profitable employment." "I d rather Master didn t talk any of that to them, please," said Glasgow, uneasily; "if they ve got to be free, and leave their home, they ll be all the better able to take care of themselves for learning to be Master s good servants first. Please don t tell them anything till the time comes when you must, nor Hagar neither." "But surely they know that you have their purchase- money laid safely away!" said Mr. Campbell, in astonish ment. "No sir, they don t know it," said Glasgow, placidly; "Hagar s a good woman," he added, "and she s been a good wife to me, but all women are foolish, Master, and I know very well, if I told her, there d be some of her sulky times 72 DORIS AND THEODORA. when she d worry at me about it. She d only be trouble some if you told her, sir, and what I wanted to ask you was, if you d be willing to take her into the great house, when you take the children; she s a right smart washer and ironer, and I heard Naomi saying she d like to have another girl to help in the laundry. You see, it would be kind of lonesome for her here, without the children, after I m gone." "It would, indeed," replied Mr. Campbell, "and I know your mistress will gladly take Hagar into the house she has often praised her work." There was no reply, save the happy and satisfied ex pression of Glasgow s face. He had spoken very slowly, and with some difficulty, and he seemed a good deal exhausted. Mr. Campbell gave him some cordial, and then sat silently by the bed until he found the poor fellow was sleep ing, when he softly withdrew, stopping on his way out to say a comforting word to Hagar, who was sitting with her face hidden in her hands on the bench just outside the front door. She rose and stole into the room, and Mr. Campbell re turned home ; he went once more, at bed-time, to Glasgow s cottage, but the sufferer was still dozing, with brief waking intervals, and Mr. Campbell thought it best not to disturb him. It was just after dark the next evening that Cudjoe came to " the great house," and asked for Doris. The family were all seated on the stone piazza, and Doris rose hastily and went down the steps. "Please, Missy," said the boy, in trembling tones, "Daddy say. could he speak wid little Missy befo he die if Missy be so good." "Is he worse ?" said Mr. Campbell, as he joined Doris at the foot of the steps. DORIS AND THEODORA. 73 "He turn weak, sudden-like," replied Cud joe ; " Doctor dere, and he say " The poor fellow began to sob, unable to say more. Both he and Pareen were devotedly fond of their father. Mrs. Campbell had followed her husband. " Darling, do you feel able to do as Glasgow wishes ? " she asked, throwing her arm about Doris ; " your father and I will go with you, and there is nothing painful for you to see in the death of a good man. " "I will go, mamma of course I will go, if poor Glasgow wants to see me," replied Doris, quietly, but her voice was very low, her mother could feel that she was trembling, and see, even by the faint moonlight, that she was very pale. Mrs. Campbell, seeing how deeply agitated her child was, hesitated, thinking it almost better to forbid her going; but Doris herself led the way, walking so rapidly that they could scarcely keep pace with her, and they reached the cottage in a few minutes. Doris had never been brought face to face with death before, and her heart sank indescribably as she reached the door, but she did not allow herself to hesitate, and as soon as she found herself in Glasgow s presence, she grew strangely calm. A great change had fallen upon him ; his face looked pinched and worn, and of that ashy hue which even the darkest skin will show at such a time. But he smiled feebly, and groped for her hand, when she spoke to him, saying brokenly: " I wanted to thank my little Miss for all her goodness to me and my folks, and specially for what she s said to us on Sunday. It s all God s truth, dear little Missy, and remember what Glasgow tells you now, the last time he speaks to you here on this earth there s nobody but God when we come to the last, and if we ve held His hand as we walked, He will hold ours when we re past walking. Little Missy will try to remember that, whatever happens to her ? " 4. 74 DORIS AND THEODORA. " I will, dear Glasgow," said Doris, in clear, solemn tones. He feebly pressed her hand, and then old Saul, a highly- respected "class-leader" among the negroes, fell on his knees, and uttered a brief, heartfelt prayer, commending the dying man to his Maker. It was a deeply-solemn scene, and one which Doris never forgot. The reverent silence in the room, as the prayer ended, seemed to make more audible than usual the soft sounds of wind and waves, and the rustling of the trees. Many dark faces were clustered about the doors and windows, for Glasgow had been a power among his people, and no death could have produced such widespread sorrow and concern. He lay quietly, with ever-shortening breath. Dr. Svensen, dreading the struggle which his mighty frame would under go, had administered an anodyne freely, and he was thus saved nearly all physical distress. He had taken leave of his wife and children before Doris arrived, and so, quietly, at peace with his Father, and with all his little world, he slept his life away. The negroes were awed into silence, so long as he continued to breathe, but as soon as Dr. Svensen said softly, " It is over he will suffer no more ! " a wail broke from the lips of his kneeling wife and children, and was taken up on all sides, until the air was filled with sounds of lamentation. The tuneful, flexible voices of the negroes gave to this cry an indescribably desolate, eerie sound, and Mr. Campbell, apprehensive of the effect upon Doris s already over- wrought nerves, hurried his wife and child away. Doris slept but little that night. For the first time in her life she was realizing the worthlessncss of everything that the world holds most valuable, and the true worth of the " peace that passeth understanding," and she resolved, in humble faith and dependence, to "hold His hand" for the rest of her life. The arrangements for Glasgow s funeral were, necessarily, DORIS AND THEODORA. 75 made with a promptness which would seem like shocking haste to inhabitants of a colder climate. The funeral is never delayed longer than till twenty-four hours after death, and, among the negroes, certain customs prevailed at this time, which were freely permitted, as they led to no harm. A "wake" was held during the entire night, previous to the funeral; the class-leaders, from time to time, raising hymns in which all the company joined. In the pauses of the sing ing, little groups would form, with heads almost touching, in their eagerness to tell and hear, and grewsome stories of weir-wolves, bewitchment, and similar blood-curdling themes, would be told in low, awe-stricken voices, and listened to with perfect faith, and no little terror. The supper, which was held in the course of the night, was always furnished from " the great house," and consisted, usually, of one or two boiled hams, roasted pig or fowls, bread, crackers, coffee, lemonade, and a small glass of spirits for each of the company much liquor, on these occasions, being strictly prohibited, as it would have led to disorder or riot. As it was, the proceedings were generally conducted with sobriety and decorum, and not a little ceremony, although it cannot be doubted that they were as keenly en joyed as funerals are, by many people, both white and black, at the present day. When the ceremonies were concluded, the body borne on the shoulders of two men, if the burial-ground were near, and on an open frame on wheels, if it were far, was con veyed to the graveyard, escorted by a solemn procession of negroes. Arrived at the grave, the final services were con ducted by a clergyman, if one could be secured at such necessarily short notice, and, if this were impossible, by the church clerk, or, as the negroes called him "the Teacher." Several more hymns were always sung at the grave, and the minister or " teacher" was expected to make a short address. 76 DORIS AND THEODORA. Mr. Campbell had sent a messenger for Mr. Weber, the old clergyman of the parish-church, as soon as the doctor had pro nounced Glasgow incurable, for he knew how much it would comfort Hagar to have the minister instead of the "teacher" to perform the service. Mr. Weber had arrived just after Glasgow s death, and his gentle words of consolation had done more to tranquilize Hagar than all that her friends and neighbors had said. He made an earnest and feeling address at the grave, exhorting the people to profit by the example of their dead brother s upright and useful life, that they might die in the same blessed assurance of hope that had sustained him. "For you know," he added, "that while we are not saved by anything that we can do of ourselves, we are yet per mitted to honor our heavenly Master by living as He would have us live, and this, we know, Glasgow earnestly and con sistently tried to do." It was many days before the sounds of singing and laughter once more prevailed at the quarters, but the negroes are a light-hearted and mercurial people, and in a few weeks his death seemed almost forgotten by the majority. His widow and children, and a few of his near relations and friends, still mourned him, and to Mr. Campbell his loss was irrepar able. When Mr. Campbell first entered upon the possession of the estate, he had allowed the overseer then in office to con tinue there, for he had no practical knowledge of the man agement, and he thought it better not to make any changes until he had made his own observations and formed his own conclusions. He was not long in arriving at the belief that, if there must be a middle-man between master and servants, it had better be one of the latter, and he had soon selected Glasgow for the position. He had discovered that the over seer s zeal concerning the profitableness of the estate was too DORIS AND THEODORA. 77 apt to obscure whatever kind feeling he had for the servants, and on more than one occasion, when Mr. Campbell had intervened on behalf of the weak or ailing, and insisted upon having his wishes obeyed, the overseer had manifested his displeasure in no uncertain manner, and when, at the expi ration of the first year, he had been given an equivalent in wages, in lieu of the usual notice, and had learned the plan upon which Mr. Campbell intended in future to conduct the estate, he had predicted near and certain ruin ; but his pre diction had not been fulfilled, nor did it seem at all likely to be. The receipts, in money, were a trifle less, perhaps, but even from a strictly utilitarian point of view, Mr. Campbell s method worked best. His people were devotedly attached to him, and on more than one occasion when labor in over- hours was of great value to the saving of the crops, or in keeping an engagement, there had been no lack of cheerful volunteers, while the house-service was far more satisfactory and faithful than that upon the majority of the other plan tations. It was her observation of all this which had led Christine Larsen to form wishes and plans concerning her mother s estate which seemed wildly ambitious to most of her friends. But to the opinions of all but a very few she was, perhaps, rather too indifferent, and she had already be gun quietly to win over her mother to her plans, with a good prospect of success. Whether or not the success would con tinue, when it came to the carrying out of her designs, was an important question which only time could solve. From the time of his father s death, Cudjoe seemed to be come daily more manly and industrious, and worthy to be depended upon. Mr. Campbell had told him of Glasgow s wish, and that, unless he showed himself unworthy of the position, he should succeed his father as soon as he should be old enough. The boy was already unusually tall and strong for his age, with a grave, earnest face and manner ; he had 78 DORIS AND THEODORA. been Glasgow s constant companion, and it now seemed as if it would not be very long before lie could fill the place left vacant by the latter s death, for Mr. Campbell, who in the meantime devoted several hours each day, beside the time formerly occupied by his inspections, to the management of the estate, kept the boy with him, and encouraged him to ask questions about all that he did not fully understand. Cudjoe had always loved his master, but his father had of course stood first with him ; now, however, his love for Mr. Campbell developed into a sort of mute adoration, and no service could have been exacted of him which he would not willingly have tried to perform. Mr. Campbell had been a little afraid that the nomination of so young a person as Cudjoe as Glasgow s successor would make some little jeal ousy and ill-feeling, and very probably it would have done so but for a counteracting agency upon which no one could have calculated. Among the older negroes were three or four native Africans, the oldest of these being "Captain Jack," as he was universally called by all the other servants. He was a very old man, evidently, but of his exact age no one, not excepting himself, had any knowledge. He was in tensely black, but tall and finely-formed, and his head was crowned with an immense crop of snow-white wool, of which he was childishly vain. He and his wife occupied one of the best cottages on the estate, and the cultivation of his piece of ground Was done entirely by the volunteer work of his fellow-servants, and much better done, too, than some of their own. He claimed to have been a king in his native country, although, even by his own showing, he must have been an extraordinarily young one when a hostile monarch captured him, and sold him into captivity. It was impossi ble now to tell whether he had, in the first instance, believed this story, or invented it for the sake of the authority and consideration he could gain by it, but there was no doubt DORIS AND THEODORA. 79 whatever that he thoroughly believed it now, and had done so for many years, and one of the delights of Doris s early childhood had been the listening to his endless stones of the time when he "was a king in his own country." Indeed, she sometimes diverted herself in this manner, even yet, and regretted that she could no longer hear with unquestioning faith and delightful wonder the wild improbabilities, and even impossibilities, which the ex-monarch so glibly related. " Captain Jack" was held in such veneration by the other negroes, that it was well for Mr. Campbell s authority that his royal highness was a vigorous partisan of law and order. He had been rather, cruelly treated in his early youth, and Mr. Campbell s kindness had made a lasting impression on him. He had been on the retired list for several years, and the vigorous language with which he endeavored to keep the other negroes up to the mark was a constant source of amuse ment to his master. His legs were badly crippled with rheumatism, and he always used a long, thick staff to assist him in walking, and this weapon was regarded by the " pic a-ninnies" with a pious and well-founded awe. He had grieved sincerely over the death of Glasgow, and with good reason, for the latter had given him more frequent and efficient help than he had received from any of the others, and on the night of the wake, after muttering and groaning to himself for a long while, he had suddenly said " When king die, in country we all belong, den king s olest son, he king next." Here he paused for several minutes, looking around the room, until his eyes rested upon Cudjoe, when he resumed "Glasgow king heah, he gone^dead ; Cudjoe come next ; nobody bettah try take Cudjoe s place. You all heah me ? " And tottering to Cudjoe s side, he laid his trembling hands on the lad s head, saying : " De good Lawd bress Glasgow s son, and make him like he fadah ! " 80 DORIS AND THEODORA. The impression made upon the superstitious and excitable negroes by this scene was indescribable; they all believed "Captain Jack" to have been inspired, and nothing would have induced any one of the men to usurp, as he would have called it, Glasgow s vacant place. Mr. Campbell knew noth ing of this until weeks afterward, when Pareen shyly told it to Doris, who in turn told her father and mother, and he then understood the entire readiness with which men as old as Glasgow, and in some respects well calculated to fill his place, had submitted to the prospect of seeing Cudjoe suc ceed his father. Many of the planters availed themselves of the superstitions of the negroes, both for amusement and profit; but this Mr. Campbell would never do, trying, on the contrary, to enlighten their minds and convince them of the folly of many of their beliefs. In this he met with very little success ; the ideas which he strove to uproot had taken such deep hold, that nothing he could say on the subject had any real or lasting effect, and he was sometimes horri fied, and very frequently amused, by incidental discoveries of their curious beliefs, and still more curious customs. In this instance, however, the result was good. CHAPTER Y. rTlHEKE was a gentle stir of excitement and pleasant -L expectancy, which pervaded alike the great house and the quarters. Mr. and Mrs. Campbell held whispered con ferences with each other, and, separately, with Doris. Doris had fallen into a curious habit of burying her work in her apron whenever the door was suddenly opened, and Mr. Campbell had announced that, save only in case of fire in the house, no one was to invade the old-fashioned "secretary" which stood in one corner of the library ; Mrs. Campbell had followed suit with a similar announcement concerning her wardrobe, upon which Doris had said, triumphantly, that anybody could do anything they liked in her room, since Gabriel had mended the lock on her closet-door ! Sev eral large and curiously shapeless parcels had already arrived from England and "the States"; Mrs. Campbell s mother lived in the former, and Mr. Campbell s two unmarried sis ters in the latter. But these parcels had vanished, and been no more seen, immediately upon their arrival. The servants wcro in a delightfully industrious and obliging frame of mind. Sullcnness and dilatoriness were unknown quanti ties, and orders were obeyed, and requests fulfilled, almost before they were uttered. You will perhaps have imagined the cause of this mild and pleasing commotion ; Christmas was very near at hand ! A large box had been shipped to Leonard, weeks ago, and he had been assured that it was not half large enough to hold the regrets of his family that he could not keep the fes tival with them ; and one of the mysterious parcels was 82 DORIS AND THEODORA. addressed to Mr. Campbell in his bold, boyish handwriting. A special lot of dry goods, groceries, and miscellaneous arti cles of almost every description was stored away in one of the basement-rooms, where no other stores were kept, and many longing glances were directed to that door, as the ser vants passed it on various errands about the house. To those of you who always associate Christmas- time with frost and snow, with blazing Christmas fires and the cosiness of household light and warmth, made cosier by contrast with the chilly outside world, it would have been almost impos sible to realize the nearness of tho "blest day." For there was a springtime mildness in the air ; flowers and fruit gave forth a summertime fragrance, and the little island seemed made up of a succession of blooming gardens. Christmas- wreaths here might be twined from the freshest and fairest flowers, instead of from the hardy evergreens, and a Christ mas tree might be decorated in the open air, its own fair fruit being left to help the decoration. But the spirit of Christmas flourishes in all climates, and fills the fragrant air of the tropics, as well as the frozen winds of the north. Mrs. Campbell had received a book of Christmas carols, a week or two ago, from her mother carols so old that they had become new again and of several of these the music was simple enough to be taught to the chil dren ; so, Doris assisting and playing the accompaniments, the choir had been diligently rehearsing, Almost all negroes have a great love for music, and most of them have good voices, and Doris was brimming over with delight, after a few practisings had been held, with the manner in which her pupils acquitted themselves. They evidently enjoyed the performance quite as much as she did, and the Christmas feeling was heightened by the sound, from all parts of the quarters and many parts of the great house, of clear, sweet DORIS AND THEODORA. 83 little childish voices singing scraps of carols and Christmas hymns. It had been some years since Doris had been considered young enough to have a Christmas-tree; she, had, instead, helped her mother and father to decorate one for the little negroes, and she considered their introduction to this tree, and the distribution of the gifts upon it, decidedly the best part of the Christmas fun. This year she amused her mother by asking, earnestly " Mamma, don t you think it would be worth while to make a little tree for Theo, with plenty of pretty, shiny things on it, and to light the candles just at dark ? You know she always laughs and crows so when the candles are lighted ! " Now the baby at that time was not quite six months old, but Mrs. Campbell saw that, whatever might be the effect upon Miss Theo s perceptions, Doris would derive great delight in preparing the little tree, so she said, kindly, "I daresay she would notice it, dear, and at any rate it will be a pleasant thing for her to hear of, when she is old enough to understand about it ; so if I were you, I would do it you know I have a boxful of decorations saved from the last tree that we dressed for you and Leonard, and there are several packages of small candles more than we shall need for the big tree. And the little Christmas angel is very carefully put away, and can be hung above the tree, as it used to be -for yours." Doris was in raptures. She selected her tree immediately, and Cudjoe, under her direction, made a neat green box in which to plant it. The supply of decorations was found to be abundant, but some of the "shiny things" had become tarnished, and these Mr. Campbell regilded. Altogether, Doris thought, the Christmas promised to be an unusually brilliant one, with the single drawback of Leonard s absence. In these days of "rapid transit" it is almost impossible to 84 DORIS AND THEODORA. realize the difficulties and detentions which travelers encoun tered forty or fifty years ago, but one might approximate the difference between now and then, by substituting days for hours, weeks for days, and months for weeks. Mr. and Mrs. Campbell had been greatly tempted to bring their boy home for the Christmas holidays, and had privately discussed possibilities, not wishing to add disappointment to Doris s regret, but they had finally concluded that they would not be justified in allowing him to lose at least four or five weeks of school-time, in an important part of the term, and when his examination for college was so soon to take place ; and much as he longed for them all, at this time, so full of tender associations, he was too brave and sensible to make either them or himself miserable about it. His letters were always bright and cheery ; he had a keen sense of the ludicrous, and a happy disposition, prone to make the best of the worst bargains, and if there were any causes of com plaint in his school-life, his family was kept in blissful igno rance of them. " I wonder how it is, mamma," said Doris once, as she finished one of his lively letters, "that Leonard meets so many pleasant people, and has such good times wherever he goes. He doesn t seem to have had a single disagreeable experience since he went to America, judging by his letters, and I used to think a boarding-school must be one of the most dreadful places in the world only just not quite so bad as a prison." " I think, dear," replied Mrs. Campbell, " that Leonard has the key of the kingdom of happiness in his own posses sion. If you will notice how it is with most of the people you know, you will find that their outside life has very little to do with their happiness and discontent. Leonard would see the bright side, even of a life in jail." "Oh, mamma! as if there could be a bright side to a life in jail!" DORIS AND THEODORA. 85 "There is a bright side to everything, darling, if we have hut the grace to see it and we all can have the grace, if we seek it in the right way." "Leonard s letters are the bright side, then, I suppose, mamma, to his absence, for I can t see any other," said Doris, "or yes, there is another; I think we don t know, sometimes, how to fully appreciate people, until we are separated from them. Before Leonard went away, although I was very fond of him, of course, I used to think there were plenty of boys in the world as good as he was, and now I don t think there is one!" " There is yet another," said Mrs. Campbell. " The joy of meeting ; I am sure nearly every one has felt, after a long separation, that this joy nearly atones for the pain of parting. i Sweet is pleasure after pain, you know. To a little body so busy as you always are, the six months which must pass before we see our boy again, will not seem long. It is only with idle people that time really drags, and refuses to move on. " "Mamma, I have been thinking lam pretty busy, but we have been talking at school, sometimes with Miss Anna, and sometimes by ourselves, and yesterday Christine pro posed that we should begin to teach the smaller children of all our servants, who would come, for an hour a day, if our mothers and fathers should be willing, and then, if we suc ceeded in that, we might let the larger ones come, and next year have an evening school for the men and women." Words of gentle discouragement rose to Mrs. Campbell s lips. The oldest of Doris s school-mates was not more than seventeen years old, and it did not seem probable that this bevy of light-hearted girls would really persevere in a scheme of this kind. But she had the rare gift of withholding ob jections to a plan or project, until it became really necessary to utter them. It would do no harm for these warm-hearted children to plan and arrange for this good work, and, if 8G DORIS AND THEODORA. they seemed sufficiently earnest, and realized what they were undertaking, there was no reason, so far as she could see, why they should be hindered from carrying it out. She was still young and enthusiastic herself, and her husband s ever- ready sympathy with her had made her even more quick to sympathize with others than she naturally was. It was the certainty which Doris felt of always being listened to with warm interest and affection, which made her tell almost every thought of her heart to her mother. And a girl may feel well assured, that when she seeks other confidants, and places them before her mother, she is entering on a doubtful and dangerous path. " Where did you think of holding the school, dear? " in quired Mrs. Campbell. " Why, that s the best part of it, mamma. Christine says that the old sugar-house on their place could be made quite fit to be used for a school-room with a very little repairing and a good cleaning, and Mrs. Larsen has given her per mission to have it put in order, and use it, if we find we can arrange about the rest. You see, we don t mean to under take it, unless we can be quite sure of keeping on, for we are all agreed that it would do more harm than good to make a beginning, and then break down." " That is the only right and sensible view to take, dear, and I am heartily glad that you all feel so about it. I have no doubt that many of the servants, and especially some of the younger men and women, will be delighted with the opportunity of learning at least to read and write, and it would cause a great deal of disappointment and ill-feeling, if you were to begin this enterprise, and then fail just as your scholars were becoming really interested. It is always well to count the cost thoroughly, in any undertaking, but more especially where other interests than our own are chiefly involved." DORIS AND THEODORA. 87 "I know, mamma it seemed to me I could just see how dreadfully the servants would feel, or those who really cared about it, if we were to begin, and then break down, and that made me hold back at first. I am afraid I hurt Christine s feelings a little, for she said, so reproachfully, I counted on you, Doris, whatever the rest might say. But I tried to make her understand what a beautiful plan I thought it was, and why I didn t rush right at it, as I do at almost everything, and I think she did understand, after awhile. And then there was another thing you know next Wednes day week will be Christmas Day, and it seemed to me it would be better for us not to try to begin now, when we are all so busy planning and getting ready for Christmas, and all the children are excited and restless about it, but to wait till a few days after Twelfth-day, when they will be settled down a little. Don t you think so, mamma ?" " I do indeed, dear, and you don t know how it pleases me to see my headlong little daughter growing so thoughtful and considerate. I often think what a blessing it will be for Theo to have such an older sister as you will be to her, darling." Doris s face flushed with pleasure. "Oh, mamma! Do you really think that?" she said. " Do you truly believe that I can be a help to dear little Theo, and make it easier for her to be good ? " "I do, truly ; you are so many years older than she is, that she will naturally look up to you almost as much as she does to me, and follow your example in many ways ; so you see it would be a double pain to me, if I were disap pointed in you." Doris threw her arms about her mother s neck, exclaiming: " Dear mamma ! I hope we shall never be anything to you and papa but a double pleasure. I am trying to be good I really am, though I fail so often that sometimes I think nobody would imagine it! " 88 DORIS AND THEODORA. "I have more than imagined it, darling I know it," said her mother fondly, "and it is just because you are really trying, that you are so keenly conscious of your failures. What a comfort it is that the Source of all our strength knows all, yet loves us better than He knows. " " It is a comfort to me now, mamma, but it used to trouble and frighten me to think that He knew everything it must seem so very dreadful to Him. But I began to feel differ ently on that awful night when I thought dear little Theo was going to die. Do you think that is a mean way to go to Him first, mamma, because we are driven to it, and feel that nobody else can help us ? " "No darling, I would not call it exactly that. It is not the best and highest way to go, but we are very weak and foolish, and when He sees that we will not come in any other way, it seems to me, He takes that way with us, rather than leave us to go on in a wrong path." "That s a beautiful thing to think, mamma; I don t be lieve I shall ever feel again that anything which happens to me is intended for a punishment. But I wanted to ask you, mamma, if you really think I am fit to help with this teach ing? you know I lose my temper so easily, and of course a great many of the children will be stupid and idle, after the first excitement is over, and I am so afraid I shall be im patient and cross with them." " The fear is a safeguard in itself, dear. If you were en tirely confident, and made light of the undertaking, I should feel bound to discourage you ; but I think you see what a serious matter it is, and so I do not fear. How do the other girls feel about it ? " " At first they were all very eager, and seemed to think it would be a new kind of fun ; but after Miss Anna had talked with them a while, several of them were inclined to draw back, but Miss Anna said no, that was not what she wanted DORIS AND THEODORA. 89 to make them do ; she only wished them to begin in a way that would insure their keeping on. So then we asked her to direct us we did not think it was fair to try to bind her to help, when she has so much other teaching to do, but we thought she would be willing to show us how to begin, and superintend us a little until we were well started, and she was just as lovely about it as she is about everything. You know there is not a day when she does not give one or two music-lessons, after school is out, and she reads to Antoinette for an hour every afternoon, and she often takes home our exercises and things to correct, and yet she always seems able to make time for something more. She promised to attend for at least the first week, and help us afterward whenever we wanted her, and she possibly could, and I don t feel half so much afraid, when I think of that, for somehow she seems to prevent our doing foolish things, almost without our knowing it. Grace and Sara were exasperatingiy humble about it, just at first they said they didn t know enough to teach anybody anything, and they knew they couldn t make the children mind, and then Miss Anna suggested that we should have a sewing-class, and she said the children knew so well already how beautifully Grace and Sara could sew, and make things, that they would be quite witling to mind them, and be taught, and the girls said, oh yes, they wouldn t mind teaching them to sew, at all, and Grace said, in that timid little way she has, that perhaps it would be a good idea to give each of the girls a doll, and let them begin by sewing for that, for that was the way she and Sara had first learned, and it would seem less stupid to the little things than it would to begin on something large enough for them selves. So Miss Anna said that was a very bright idea, and when Christine said we should have to send to the States for a lot of dolls large enough to go round, and it would be weeks before we could begin, at that rate, Miss Anna said no, 90 DORIS AND THEODORA. she could give them a better plan than that that. she had an old-fashioned pattern for a rag-doll, nearly eighteen inches long, and that if we would all meet in the school -room, one day during the holidays, we could have a cutting-out party, and each take a share of the dulls home to sew up, and then meet again when they were all sewed, and she would show us how to stuff them, and make the joints, and the faces, and something to look like hair, and then we are to cut out, first the underclothes, from patterns she has, and keep the gay dresses and aprons for a sort of reward, to be made as soon as the underclothes are done. Now don t you think it was clever of Miss Anna to think that all out, and arrange it, mamma ? " "I do indeed, dear. Miss Anna has the very best and highest sort of cleverness, and I am thankful every day for her influence among us. I should not wonder if Grace and Sara s share of the work should be the more popular and successful part of the plan, at least for some time to come, for J am afraid very few of the children will prove to be as intelli gent and eager to learn as Pareen and Cudjoe seem to be." " We couldn t expect that, mamma you know what pains poor Glasgow always took with them. I don t know so much about the children on the other plantations, of course, but it seems to me all our people have such nice little chil dren, that there will be a great deal of pleasure in teaching them, even allowing for the stupid and naughty ones." Mrs. Campbell thought, as she looked at the bright face and eager eyes of her little daughter, that it would be only the very stupid and stolid children who could resist the earnestness and enthusiasm which Doris would put into this, as into all her undertakings. She was losing none of her real brightness, as she gained in thoughtful ness and stability, and her manner grew more winning as she conquered self- consciousness and self-seeking. There was much, very much, DORIS AND THEODORA. 91 yet wanting for the perfecting of her character, but the good seed had been sown in fruitful soil, and was already spring ing up with promise of a bountiful harvest. Her mother was deeply gratified by the manner in which Doris was entering upon this undertaking ; it was so different from the thoughtless enthusiasm which she would have shown a few months ago. And Mrs. Campbell could not help seeing that, should the girls really persevere in it, the lessons which they would receive would fully equal in value those which they would give. But she quite agreed with Doris, that it would be useless to start the undertaking until the holidays were over, and these would include Twelfth-night, which was almost as universally and specially observed as Christmas was. It was not at all customary in the Island, at that time, for any one to have a Christmas tree, and it was because Mrs. Campbell was of English descent, that she had always dressed one for Doris ; among the negroes, and even among the white people, it had created an amusing amount of interest and excitement, and Doris found that her effort on little Theo s behalf was destined to afford amusement to a large number of out siders. Laughing black faces clustered about doors and windows as she hung the pretty trifles on the boughs, and, at her mother s suggestion, she invited all the children in the neighborhood, both white and black, to come at dark on Christmas Eve, and see the candles lighted. "And not one of them, mamma, not one, seemed more pleased than dear little Theo did!" said Doris excitedly, when the troop had dispersed; "she laughed louder than I ever heard her laugh before, and crowed and kicked and tried to clap her little hands. Oh, mamma ! What fun it has been ! " Mrs. Campbell did not say so, but the real pleasure of it all, to her, had been Poris s unselfish delight in the happiness 92 DORIS AND THEODORA. of others. On former Christmases, when Doris was the ob ject and centre of so much that was done, she had shown a more lively interest in her own gifts than in those which came to others ; but this time she had been so absorbed in her preparation of the tree, that she hud forgotten to wonder about them, and her delighted surprise the next morning with her tableful of presents came to her with all the charm of novelty. The gift which gave her most pleasure was the one for which her mother and father had sent to England months before a little gold watch, with a pretty light gold chain, and a tiny carnelian seal, engraved with her initials. But there were valuable books from Leonard and the aunts in "the States," a pretty set of coral ornaments from the dear grandmother in England, a piece of embroidery left in Mrs. Campbell s charge by Miss Anna, and little gifts from each of her schoolmates, and from Antoinette. Hilda s offering came next in value to the precious watch ; she had made a sketch of little Theo for Leonard, at Doris s request, and from it had taken a crayon-portrait, the size of life ; she had the gift of catching likenesses, and, perhaps because it was a labor of love, had been peculiarly successful with this one. She had made a frame of tiny shells, closely set on a wooden foundation, and the effect was very pretty. The delight of Doris may be imagined. Before the date at which this story begins, the English Church building had been totally destroyed by a hurricane, and the congregation had been kindly invited by the pastor of the Danish Lutheran Church to worship there, until they could rebuild. The Church of England services were, of course, held after the Lutheran service was over. There was also a Roman Catholic Church, and a Moravian Mission, with schools and industrial buildings. Although Mr. Camp bell and his family were Episcopalians, they were totally free from bigotry ; they were much interested in the Mission, as DORIS AND THEODORA. 93 any one who observed the simple, unpretending goodness of the Moravian missionaries could not fail to be. The singing in this church was very sweet, and recurred more frequently during the services than it did in the other churches, and Mr. Campbell frequently took his wife and daughter to the week-day evening meetings. All the church buildings were of stone, white-washed, and with green Venetian blinds, or shutters. They were simple and unpretentious in their architecture, but to Doris, who had never seen more imposing buildings, the neat, quiet Lutheran Church was a very sweet and holy place. This being the Government religion at this time, there were four box-like pews, raised from the floor, and entered by several steps, which were set apart for the use of Government officials. Mr. Campbell and Mrs. San ton shared one of these pews at the English service ; there was a window in it with a broad seat, and one of Doris s earliest recollections was being perched upon this window-seat, as she grew restless during the service, and having her sturdy little legs gently but very firmly held down by her mother s hand, when she endeavored to vary the monotony by kicking her heels against the wall. The churches were dressed for Christmas, but very simply, and, as we of the North would think, sparsely. Sprigs of bay were stuck along the tops of the pews in small holes made for the purpose, giving to the church the look of a garden divided by little hedges. There were many sports and amusements indulged in at this time by both the white and black population. One of the most singular, perhaps, in vogue among the former was " stealing the pone," on Christmas Eve. A pone, or sort of pudding made of grated sweet potatoes and yams, spices, citron, sugar, raisins, currants, bananas, and pieces of fat pork, was baked for hours in a Dutch oven. This pone w r as locked up in the pantry, and a frolicsome party went from 94 DORIS AND THEODORA. house to house, frying, by every possible means, to obtain the pantry key or effect an entrance without it, and so take pos session of the pone, which was then carried off and eaten in triumph at one of the neighboring houses. The Campbells and their more intimate friends had never joined in this rather rough fun, but on this Christmas Eve a breathless and triumphant party took refuge on their piazza, and Doris, for the first time, had an opportunity to taste the pone. Her private opinion was that it was not worth the exercise of either strategy or open warfare. This diversion was only practised in or near the towns, and the marauders had never before come so far as Mr. Campbell s house, which stood at least a quarter of a mile from the last street of the nearest town ; bat Doris gathered from their breathless con dition and laughing remarks that they had, in this instance, been hotly pursued. They went off in great good-humor at the conclusion of their feast, firing a parting salute of squibs at the large gate which led from the grounds into the road. Dinner and dancing parties were kept up with unflagging energy through the holidays, Twelfth- night usually ending the festivities. Many girls no older than Doris, and some not quite so old, were allowed to join freely in all that went on in their own circle of friends, but Mrs. Campbell had made up her mind not to let Doris "come out" until she should attain her seventeenth birthday, and this resolution was firmly kept in spite of many wondering remonstrances from less thoughtful mothers. Doris herself had no desire to hasten the day. She was keenly interested in her studies, her life was full and happy, and she rather dreaded the bond age which the change would impose upon her. But she had been charmed with her mother s proposal to invite her six schoolmates for a Twelfth-night party, and to have the tra ditional Twelfth-night cake baked for the occasion. In this cake were baked a ring, a piece of linen, and a DORIS AND THEODORA. 95 stick ; whoever found the ring was to be first among the company to marry, the finder of the linen was to consider it a prophecy of prosperity, but the stick was an omen of mis fortune. The ring, on this occasion, was a heavily-chased and very beautiful one, the linen a fairy handkerchief of silky cam bric edged with fine lace, and even the stick, as if to mitigate the blows of fate, was of gold, rough and knotted to repre sent a piece of wood, but fastened to a pin, and with a tiny diamond spark in each knot. These things had been ordered from England with the watch, and were the cause of no little merriment. Each slice of cake, as it was handed, was eagerly broken up by the laughing girls. Hilda had happened to be helped first, and as she broke the slice the ring tinkled on her plate. Unconsciously she raised her eyes to meet Doris s, and a bright blush swept over her face. "Even should the prophet prove a false one," she said in her calm, even tones when the laughter and exclamations subsided, "it is such a very beautiful prophet that I shall cheerfully forgive it," and she placed the ring upon the third finger of her left hand, the only one which it fitted securely. The pretty handkerchief came near being sacrificed. All had been helped but Jane Barrett and Doris, and Mrs. Campbell, who was cutting the cake, felt a slight resistance, and drew back the knife just in time to save the fragile web from destruction. "It is a fortunate thing," she said, smiling, as she cut another division of the cake and gently pulled the two slices apart, " that my knife was not very sharp, for 1 have no desire for the part of Atropos ; and it is fortunate, too, that as only these two young women are left, there can be no shadow of doubt as to the destination of the divided 96 DORIS AND THEODORA. prophet. Now I will put my two hands behind me, with the handkerchief in one; which hand will you have, Jeanie ? " "The right, of course, dear Mrs. Campbell!" and in the right was the slice which had held most firmly to the hand kerchief. " It is not the prophecy, you understand, of which I sur render my half," said Doris, laughing. "Jeanie is quite welcome to the whole of the handkerchief, and for fear you should be overcome by my whole-souled generosity, I will mention that grandma sent me half-a-dozen, nearly if not quite as desirable, in the abstract, as that one. But my share of the prophecy I insist upon keeping ! " "You are quite welcome to all of the prophecy," said Jane, flourishing her trophy, t( so long as / am welcome to the prophet!" Half the cake had been cut and distributed, and no one had found the stick. "It is such a very good cake," said Christine, disposing of the last fragment of her slice, " that we will all submit gracefully to the necessity of taking another slice." " I will reverse the order this time," said Mrs. Campbell, "and begin with Jeanio and Doris; then none of you can charge me with trying to influence fate." Again the knife was stopped in its downward progress, and this time it was arrested by the fateful stick ! " That goes to show how much we can depend upon these prophets," said Mrs. Campbell ; " they are at war already. Now, see ! I have cut the second slice, and divided the two as well as I can around the stick. Jeanie, take hold ; here, Doris ; now pull ! " They pulled, and the stick remained with Doris. "I don t mind such a stick as this at all !" she said, as, clearing it of crumbs, she saw its beauty. "Oh, mamma! DORIS AND THEODORA. 97 nobody but you would have thought of having a stick like this. What a lovely pin ! " "Yes, it is lovely/ said Hilda, examining it, "but I would rather have my ring." " I don t doubt you would, dear," whispered Doris, with a mischievous light in her eyes; and once more the color swept over Hilda s pale, proud face. The party broke up merrily, but Sara whispered to her sister "I don t care; I m very glad neither of us found the stick." "But, then," replied Grace, with a puzzled look, "they found the handkerchief too, you know." The quaint festivities of the negroes, also, lasted till after Twelfth-day. Early on Christmas morning the servants assembled from the various estates, and marched into the nearest town, carrying gourds covered with gay ribbons and filled with pebbles or seeds ; these they called " shake- shake," and they managed to extract a large amount of noise from them by striking them on their hands. Some of them played upon violins and tambourines, and, thus accom panied, they went about to the houses of the relatives and friends of their masters, saluting them, and asking per mission to enter and dance. This was always cheerfully and kindly accorded them, and their dance was held in the drawing-room or large hall. They were made very welcome, and treated to cake and a drink which, for some mysterious reason, they called "Miss Bleyden." It was made of the juice of the prickly pear or cactus, flavored and sweetened \vith rum and sugar. Among a people so light- hearted and thoughtless as many of the negroes were, it may be imagined that the days which intervened between Christ mas and Twelfth-day were made the most of; singing and dancing were dearer even than eating or sleeping to many 98 DORIS AND THEODORA. of the younger ones, at least ; and as the gay voices and rol licking laughter of the revelers penetrated even to the rooms of the " great house," Doris smiled to herself at the idea of trying to collect the children for anything like work before the expiration of every moment which they could claim as coming within the holiday-time, and she was well aware of her own sympathy for this feeling. She was enjoy ing her share of the fun and excitement to the full, while, at the same time, she felt that she should work all the better for it when the holidays were over. She was glad to find Pareen and Cudjoe being insensibly drawn away from their grief by the frolicsome crew ; but Hagar, avoiding her fellow-servants as much as she possibly could, went quietly about her accustomed duties, assuming unnecessary work, and apparently trying to tire herself out through the day that she might sleep heavily at night, and so leave herself no time for thinking. She had found, as so many of us find with advancing years, that there is no sad ness like that of the foregone and too-well-remembered joy which haunts us at anniversary times, and she seemed almost to resent her children s temporary forgetfulness. OHAPTEE VI. girls of Miss Kobeston s school were saved from JL feeling the reaction which is so apt to follow the most pleasant excitement, by the interest with which they turned, so soon as the holidays were over, to their project concerning the children of the servants. They had met once, in the holiday-week, and, amid much merriment, the dolls had been cut out, and evenly distributed. Before that was done, however, it had been necessary to ascertain how many little girls were to be provided for. The four plantations, beside Mrs. Larsen s, which were near enough for the children to meet at the old sugar-house, were those of Mr. Barrett, Mr. Lilienthal, Mr. lining and Mr. Campbell. There had been some talk of including Mrs. Santon s, but it was too far away for any but the larger and stronger children to take the necessary walk every day, so they reluctantly gave up the idea. But Antoinette was deeply interested in their project, and had resolved, should they be successful, to teach the little ones on her mother s plantation, at least to read and sew a little. The young girl who waited upon her was in telligent and capable, and would be an admirable assistant, and even substitute, on the days when she herself should be disabled by illness. Doris had reported all the sayings and doings to her friend, and Antoinette had insisted upon helping with the dolls. " I have all the time there is, you know, Doris," she said, with the sweet, patient smile which so often lighted up her face ; " and you all have fifty different ways of spending your time to my one. Besides, it will amuse mamma to 100 DORIS AND THEODORA. help me sew some of the dolls I have often heard her tell how the one doll for which she ever really cared was a huge, almost shapeless rag affair, which grandma made for her when she was very small, and I shall be glad to take the pattern of Miss Anna s doll, which must be quite an elegant affair, judging from your description. So bring me at least a dozen, and unless I should be much worse than usual, you shall have them in time for your opening-day." Pareen had been employed to do the counting, and she brought back word that, including their own, there were seventy children under twelve and over five years old, and that of these, thirty-two were girls. This gave an average of four dolls apiece for the seven, leaving four for Antoinette; but the latter, when told of the arrangement, begged so hard to be allowed to take eleven, and thus reduce the " general average" to three, that the others yielded, the more wil lingly, as they were anxious to have the dolls completed, and the first of their clothes cut out, by the Monday following Twelfth-day, when they hoped to open their school. Hilda, who was taking painting-lessons, and painted quite well, volunteered to paint all the faces, while the others cut out garments, and Mrs. Campbell suggested that wigs should be made of small pieces of sheep-skin, with the wool rather closely trimmed ; and these Cudjoe had undertaken to clean and prepare in time. The girls had all been devoted mothers of dolls, in their time, and this was not too long ago for them to take a lively pleasure in making dolls for others. Contributions of gay scraps of silks and ribbons, and larger pieces of fabric for gowns and underclothing, had been freely bestowed upon them, and each one secretly resolved that her doll-family should outshine the rest. Grace and Sara had a decided advantage over the others, in this part of the performance, for their practice had made them very nearly perfect, whereas some of the other girls had always DORIS AND THEODORA. 101 disliked sewing, and had managed, so far, to escape it almost entirely. The second meeting which took place in the school-room, and the opening-day which followed, on the ensuing Monday, can best be described by quoting from a letter which Doris wrote shortly afterward to Leonard. " MY DEAK, DEAR LEONARD I " Before this letter reaches you, you will have received, I hope, the one in which I wrote you an account of Christ mas, and also of New Year s Day. I think I mentioned, in the one before that, our projected school for the smaller children of the servants, and how nicely the plan seemed to be taking shape. It is a fact, now, instead of a plan, and I am growing more interested in it every day. Mamma was and is just as lovely about it as she is about everything. I had a great many misgivings about my fitness to teach, and, indeed, I seem to myself, yet, to be very presumptuous, but she encouraged me, and I knew I should have her to go to, if I got into any difficulties, and so I thought I would try, for it has seemed to me, lately, that I really don t do anything for anybody but myself, and this was the first real chance to help other people that had ever offered. I told you, I believe, that it was Christine Larsen who first sug gested it, and whose mother said we might use the old sugar-house on their plantation. Some of their servants cleaned it and put it in pretty good order, and then Cudjoe and one of their boys fitted it up with rough benches just boards nailed across posts driven into the ground, and then a sort of railing for a back to each bench we thought it would be so tiresome for the little things to have nothing to lean back against. " They will not need desks yet awhile, if they ever do, but we wanted one desk, for the teaching things, and for the 102 DORIS AND THEODORA. teacher to get behind when she was talking you know we are to take weekly turns with the teaching so mamma said we might have that big, clumsy old secretary-thing that you and I used to keep in the play-room, and play post-office with. Cudjoe rubbed it up, and waxed it, and it looks quite fierce and commanding the only trouble is, that Christine, who, you know, is, and always will be, very small, is obliged to stand on a stool to get her head well above the top ! Then Cudjoe painted a very nice blackboard for us, and Hilda is busy in all her spare time, illuminating texts and mottoes, to hang about on the posts or pillars, as she insists upon call ing them. " But we have had most fun about the dolls! You know how Miss Anna is how, if any of us put on airs, or plume ourselves upon being superior in any way to the others, she proceeds to take us down in some nice, quiet, innocent, un obtrusive way! Well, when the thing was first talked of, Grace and Sara Lilienthal said they couldn t possibly help ; that they didn t know enough of anything to teach it, and a great deal more humility like that; and I am dreadfully afraid that we all looked as if we quite agreed with them. Then Miss Anna said that she thought we ought to give at least half an hour out of the two we proposed to teach every day, to sewing, for that would be quite as useful to the children as anything we could teach them, and that there were none of us so competent to take charge of that depart ment as Grace and Sara were. This is sadly true, for most of us don t ever do any sewing, if we can possibly get out of it, and we all looked a little foolish. Then Grace made a first-rate suggestion she said the children would take much more interest in learning to sew, if they began by sewing for dolls, and Miss Anna said that was a very bright idea, and when somebody said that we could only get so many dolls by sending to the States for them, she said she had a nice DORIS AND THEODORA. 103 pattern, and we could set to work and make them rag-dolls. So first we had a cutting-out meeting, and you may imagine that there was a good deal of fun. You never saw anything queerer than those dolls, when they were just cut out, before they were sewed up and stuffed. Antoinette is so interested in everything we do, and you know how much she does herself, using all her odd minutes, when she is not suffering too much for anything. Pareen had done the counting there are seventy children under twelve and over five, which was the age we finally agreed upon, and thirty- two of these are girls, so Antoinette insisted upon taking eleven of the dolls to sew, and that left three a piece for the rest of us, for we would not let Miss Anna take any she has her hands double-full now. " We managed to have them all sewed by the day we had appointed to meet next; Hilda had promised to paint all the faces, as fast as we had them stuffed, and Miss Anna sewed on the wigs, which Oudjoe had made out of bits of nice clean sheep-skin, cutting the wool pretty closely, so that it looked like short hair. We hadn t said a word to him about coloring them, but Hagar had got interested in it, and she had showed him how to do it, with the different roots and barks and berries that she knows so much about ; so some were black, and some brown, and some yellow, but the funniest of all were the two or three that were a flaming red! Miss Anna sewed them on before the faces were painted, so that Hilda might make their eyes and com plexions harmonize with their hair. " There is a great deal of quiet fun in Hilda, you know, for all she seems so proud and cold sometimes, and she tried to make each face different from the rest. She took a sort of caricature of each of us, including herself, to begin with, and then she took faces from two or three numbers of Punch/ and from some toy-books we hunted up for her, 104 DORIS AND THEODORA. and you never saw anything funnier than that family of dolls, when they were ranged around on the table. I don t believe we should have done much work, for laughing and fooling/ if it had not been for Miss Anna, but she kept us up to the mark, and we managed to cut out enough clothes for the first week, at least, and then we were all ready to begin. We had thought we must have books and slates, of course, but Miss Anna said that for several weeks to come, the blackboard would be all we should need that we must draw the letters on that, one by one, and then all together, until each child knew the alphabet, and then the figures in the same way, and keep exercising them back and forth on those two things, until they were perfect in them, and that, she said, she was afraid would not be so soon as we thought. * In the meantime, papa has written to his agent in New York for a gross each of slates, and letter-cards, and copy books, and spellers, and Miss Anna says we need feel no apprehension that they will not be here by the time we want them ! Now, that is the sort of thing that makes me know it will be real, solid work. I have been teaching Pareen to read, you know, at odd times, and she is brighter than many of the children are, but it does seem to me, sometimes, that she is too stupid for anything ! Still, I don t mean to feel discouraged if only a dozen out of the seventy learn enough to be of some use and pleasure to them after they grow up, it will be quite worth while to have done it don t you think it will, dear Leonard? And now I want you to help me about something we have been thinking that it would be so nice if we could find some sort of work for the boys, and have it taught them in the girls sewing hour, but we can t think of anything that would do, that anybody here could teach. Can you ? Do ask somebody it seems to me that some of your professors and people, who know so many things, ought to be able to tell you. DORIS AND THEODORA. 105 " I really think I miss you more and more every day there are so many things I want to tell you, and talk over with you ; and although I write you such reams, I always think, immediately after I have sent a letter, of something of the highest importance that I have omitted to say ! Well, it is only a little more than four months, now. Are you as glad of that as I am, I wonder? No, I don t wonder at all, I know you are. Mamma has a note to put in this, so I have no message from her, but papa sends you lots of love, and the servants ask about you, or send you some funny message, nearly every day. And as for me, I am always your very loving sister, " DORIS. "P. S. I have just read this over, and I find I haven t once mentioned dear little Theo s name. That is too bad, for she grows lovelier every day. She makes the funniest little cooings and chucklings, that I am quite sure are attempts to speak ; and when I have her on my lap, she straightens her little legs out, as if she were trying to stand. She laughs a great deal, now, and when she is very much pleased, she gives an ecstatic little squeal, which sets us all laughing. Her hair looks like spun gold, and I am going to put one of the little rings in this letter, for you to see mamma says she can t spare much, but I think she has a great deal for such a little baby, and so does Nana. "Once more your loving " DORIS." The answer to this letter contained the wished-for sugges tion about work for the boys, so here is part of it : " I am afraid my professors and people would not be of much use in solving your problem about the boys, but one 106 DORIS AND THEODORA. or two ideas, which have their origin in my fertile intellect, are quite at your service, ma am. Do you remember old Joseph, Semira s husband, who used to make such wonder fully pretty and ingenious basket-work ? Why don t you appoint him a professor in your college, my dear? The trade is a good and necessary one, the world over, and most of those little shavers are very apt, so far as my experience of them goes, at any sort of handiwork. They might begin with the plain work first, and then, as they became proficient in that, be promoted into colored osiers and fancy work. Then there is another thing wood carving. There is such a variety of pretty wood in the beloved Island, that I should think they might learn that to great advantage. There is a fellow round on the north side a free negro, named Saul, a jolly, good-natured soul, who lives in his own little hut, on his own field you know what curious things he used to make, just with a jack-knife. I promised him a regular set of tools, in return for his numerous donations to me, in the way of ships and wild animals of unknown species, and I sent him a first-class box, months ago, but he can neither read nor write, and I have never heard whether or not he received them which reminds me that I wish you would ask him, if you ever have a chance, and let me know. How ever, I have very little doubt that he did receive the tools, and is quite proficient in their use by this time, so I have sent a dozen sets, not so good as the one I sent him, I am sorry to say, to uncle s agent, to be shipped to you at the first opportunity ; and, if I were you, I would use them as rewards of merit you ll know best how to offer them as sich and if the little monkeys take to them, and it seems worth while, no doubt uncle and some of the other gentle men would send for more. "Now, Doris, I laughed to myself, and thought, that s just like a girl ! when you went pretending you thought I DORIS AND THEODORA. 107 didn t miss you as much as you miss me. But where you are different from a good many girls oh, yes, I hasten to add, and boys too ! is that you can t pretend long, even in fun. You know well enough how much I miss you, and aunt, and uncle, but I don t mean to howl about it, for it can t be helped, and so I am trying to study as hard as I can, and have as much fun as I can, lawfully, and that makes the time go faster than I had any idea it would, when I first came back for I ll admit to you, in strict confidence, and now that I have myself in hand again, that I was thundering homesick, if you will pardon the figure of speech worse, I do believe, than I was the first time I came. But time and the hour run through the roughest day ; that s the elegant and poetical way to put it, you know, but I m not quite sure that I don t like better the version by a queer fellow here, who doesn t say much at a time: one of the new boys was bemoaning himself, and wondering if he could possibly worry through to vacation, and this genius quietly observed : " ( So far as I can find out, nobody ever stuck fast yet ! t( So there s consolation for you, my dearly-beloved sister; and every night, as I scratch off a day from my calendar, and say, with the amiable Miss Murdstone, There s another day off ! I think how you are doing the same thing with your calendar and I puzzled one of the little fellows dreadfully, by telling him that if he and I each scratched off a day every evening, there would be two off, his day and my day. He hasn t stopped racking his little brains about it yet. " You take an active interest in my intellectual attain ments, which is amiable of you, considering their size, so I will mention for your comfort, that I am getting on steadily, if not very rapidly, and that I feel pretty confident now of being able to enter the Sophomore class at Yale next year, instead of the Freshman. This will shorten my probation 108 DORIS AND THEODORA. by a year, you know, and is a cheering thought. For even should I decide, finally, not to settle for good on the beloved Island, I shall take a year, when I have finished studying medicine, to rest and read and look about me. It s a pretty serious business to make a decision for a lifetime, and I have no great regard for rolling stones I hope to stick as closely as circumstances will admit to the general plan I chalk out in the first place. It vexes me to see how many men quietly give up and take a back seat at the first real difficulty. But talk about your ( reams what do you call this? However, I don t doubt that, if we should set up a short-hand reporter, for the sake of posterity, when I come back, we should find we had talked more than two of our letters put together, in the first twenty-four hours. "I am not going to put Theo oif into a postscript! I twisted the little ring of spun gold around my finger as far as it would go and shut my eyes, and almost convinced myself the rest of her was there. Dear little soul ! I shan t see her as a baby she will be toddling about and trying to talk, by the time I come home. I wish you d ask Miss Hilda to make a little sketch of her for me, just to give me an idea of how she looks, you know but don t, if you think she will think I am asking too great a favor you can tell best. You must have had jolly fun making the dolls, and giving them to the picaninnies I wish I could have been there. And I think it was awfully good of Miss Hilda to take so much pains with their faces. But really, Doris, this isn t doing my Latin, and I know your family pride will make you prefer my stopping this, to disgracing myself in the Latin class. Lots and lots of love to aunt and uncle and you and Theo. I will write to aunt next week. "Your loving brother, DORIS AND THEODORA. 109 In after years, when Doris was " sadder and wiser," she burnt her letters as soon as they were answered; but these fresh, boyish, affectionate letters from Leonard she never had the heart to destroy, for reading them always called back this, the happiest time of her life. If Miss Anna had not started the new school on a clear, common-sense basis, the enterprise would not have lived six weeks ; and, as it was, the more ardent and persevering of the girls were often obliged to float the others. It really seemed, for many weeks, as if the manual department was the only one which yielded any ground for encouragement. The little girls were wildly delighted with the dolls, and although some of them pouted and grumbled when they were made to understand that possession was not to be given until each one had completed the full suit of clothes, most of them cheerfully consented to the arrangement, and began with zeal, if without knowledge, on the appointed task. They learned to sew or the majority of them did with surprising readiness, and as soon as one doll was earned, and earned about by its proud possessor, the only difficulty with the rest of the children was to turn their attention to their studies, and persuade them that long stitches, which must needs be picked out, did not hasten the attainment of their wishes. At Miss Anna s suggestion, singing was introduced at an early stage of the proceedings, and was soon one of the real pleasures of the day. The children all had quick ears and good voices, and before long they knew a number of easy songs and Sunday-school hymns, which they sang with a spirit and abandon that made their music delightful to hear ; and many a time, when the young school-mistresses were "tried" almost too sorely by stupidity and willfulness and inatten tion, the music with which the exercises were always closed 110 DORIS AND THEODORA. soo fclied them into a better frame of mind, and gave them courage to persevere. Both Leonard s suggestions concerning the boys were adopted, and with very pleasant success. The girls easily made up among them a sum sufficient to employ Joseph and Saul twice a week as teachers, and Hilda and the Lilienthals, who were quick at any sort of handiwork, soon learned enough, by watching the teachers, to direct the boys on the other three days. Common jack-knives were easily procured, and Saul sharpened them before beginning his lessons. It was agreed that, on all accounts, it would be best to keep the knives in the teacher s desk when they were not in lawful use; but the little fellows had to be closely watched for the carrying out of this rule, for very few of them had ever known what it was to own a knife before, and there were so many delightful possibilities with a sharp knife in one s pocket. It was the same, to a smaller degree, with the thimbles and other sewing-utensils, and it was found neces sary to institute a general turning-out of pockets at the close of the sewing and carving lessons, and even then the brighter ones often contrived to slip through with one of the coveted articles. Their skill as basket-makers was surprising, and Mr. Campbell offered, when they should have finished enough baskets to make it worth while, to forward their work to his agent in New York, that it might be sold for the benefit of the small manufacturers. When this was told them, there was a marked increase of industry, and only a few stuck to the wood-carving, which was more difficult and required more time for satisfactory execution. These few, however, were ardently interested, and by the time Leonard s contri bution of tools arrived, there were several candidates quite worthy to receive them. DORIS AND THEODORA. Ill This work interested Doris more than all the rest, and she soon began to experiment in it. She found it extremely fascinating, and wrote, before very long, to Leonard, asking him to send her a suitable set of tools. Her time was very fully occupied now, but she had never been brighter and happier. The hours fixed upon for the negro children s school were from four to six in the after noon ; Miss Anna s hours were from nine till one, and Doris had a music-lesson three times a week, from two to three. But by rising a little earlier for her ride or walk, she secured the hour between seven and eight for practising, and, during the week when it was her turn to be school-mistress, con tented herself with that ; the rest of the time, she generally practised from half-past one to half-past three. The light lunch at one, and dinner at six, made it much easier for her to arrange her day satisfactorily, and when it was "her week," her mother insisted upon delaying dinner until half- past six. She had been inclined, at first, to be a good deal more zealous than discreet, and to grudge the time bestowed upon eating and sleeping, but a quiet talk with her mother had convinced her that she would lose, rather than gain, in the long run, by burning her candle at both ends ; so, unless something very especial prevented, she was in bed every night by ten o clock, and whenever this was impossible or inconvenient, she resolutely made up the lost sleep the fol lowing day. She had suggested a slight shortening of her morning exercise, but this her mother entirely vetoed ; so, with plenty of fresh air, sound sleep, and wholesome food, she was in no danger of wearing out, far as she was from the still more dreadful and insidious danger of rusting out. Her gay laughter and snatches of song about the house seemed to fill it with sunshine; and the baby, who was beginning, with the help of chairs, and the hindrance of many sudden falls, 113 DORIS AND THEODORA. to totter about, made frantic efforts to follow the sweet voice whenever and wherever she chanced to hear it. Miss Anna was pursuing a new plan about the lessons this session. Instead of expecting any to be learned at home, she gave the first morning-hour at school as a study-hour ; all that each girl could thoroughly learn of the subject for the day, in this hour, was recited in the one following, and her own manner of dealing with the matter effectually banished any unfriendly rivalry and triumph. The quicker among the girls had been inclined to " crow " a little, at first, when they found they could recite lessons two or three times the length of those acquired by their more plodding neighbors in the same time ; but Miss Anna bided her time, and at the end of the week reviewed the week s studies ; the result, in almost every case, deprived the readier learners of all desire to exalt themselves, and reduced their average of pages sen sibly. There had been a strong tendency, when Miss Anna first opened her school, to make a good deal of quiet fun at the expense of Grace and Sara Lilienthal, who, to a super ficial observer, were certainly far from brilliant, and who often made laughable mistakes. No notice was taken of this, in words ; but, by various unobtrusive devices, these girls were given more confidence in themselves and their abilities; their timidity was overcome, and the best side of their characters drawn out in such a way that the other scholars were forced to modify, and eventually to retract, their hastily-formed opinions. The tact with which this change was effected produced more, rather than less, of friendly feeling among the girls ; it was impossible for them to spend four hours a day with such a woman as Anna Robeston, and not feel her ennobling in fluence ; and, coupled with her keen sense of responsibility, was an equally keen and true pleasure in her work. Free from any feeling of being burdened and oppressed with their DORIS AND THEODORA. 113 tasks, their interest and delight in them were genuine, and even the most defective memories among them were strength ened and rendered serviceable. Miss Anna had the faculty of thoroughly awakening the minds that came in contact with her own, and she won love and confidence, as they can always be won, by a generous bestowal of them. CHAPTER VII. THE months slipped away, as only busy months can, and now it was nearly the last of June, and a letter had been received from Leonard, saying that he hoped to sail on the 26th, and mentioning the name of the vessel. Only a week or two now, and his ship might be signaled at any minute. Doris was on tiptoe with happy anticipation, and it required a resolute effort to enable her to give her mind to her daily duties. Miss Anna s school was to close on the 20th, and she was going home to "the States" for a three months vacation. Warm invitations had been extended to her by the families of each and all of her girls to visit in the Island through her vacation, instead of taking the long jour ney home, but she had gratefully declined them all. Her family lived in New England ; there she had grown to womanhood, and among all the beauty and pleasantness of her new home in the tropics, she felt a homesick longing for the "stern and rock-bound coast" upon which nearly all her life had been passed. But she had promised to write at least once to each of her scholars during the vacation, and to read .with sincere pleasure all the letters they chose to send her, and with these promises they endeavored to console them selves. A few of them planned a course of reading or study for the vacation, but when Doris consulted with her mother upon the advisability of joining them, Mrs. Campbell dis suaded her, saying : "You have worked while you worked, darling, with an honesty of purpose which has delighted us, and now we wish you to have an entire rest ; or, rather, an entire change. If DORIS AND THEODORA. 115 you like to practise a little, I shall not object, but I want you to lay aside all study until Miss Anna comes back in the fall. You and Leonard must be out of doors as much as you possibly can, and you know we have three or four very pleasant visits, and twice as many visitors, in prospect ; and you are going to begin to help me with the housekeeping a little this summer, too. I shall soon be growing old and lazy now, and I must have you all ready to step into my place." " I will help you all you wish me to, mamma, for I like housekeeping, but you shall not even talk about growing old ! Papa says that nobody would take us for anything but sisters ! " "Papa s love invests him with rose-colored spectacles, sometimes," said Mrs. Campbell, smiling; "he will be telling me I look like Theo s sister, in a few years ! But he will be obliged to banish all the looking-glasses before it comes to that!" The school in the sugar-house was to be disbanded for its summer vacation the day after Miss Anna s closed, and amid much joking and laughter about " commencement-day," a closing festival was arranged, with a view to the gratification of the parents, quite as much as that of the scholars. The brighter scholars were given recitations ; songs and hymns were practised by all, and a long table in the middle of the school-room was to be covered with a goodly show of finished work, done by both girls and boys. The proud mothers of the pupils, as soon as they were informed of the coming cele bration, devised various and wondrous costumes for the performers, and the entertainment promised to be highly amusing as well as edifying. Hilda made time for some effective, if not very artistic, illuminations on the invitation- cards, and some plain cards were sent to all the families among the young girls friends who were near enough to come ; the gorgeous ones being reserved for the parents and 116 DORIS AND THEODORA. friends of the pupils. Miss Anna entered into all the arrangements with her usual warm-hearted interest in their affairs, offering to lead the singing, and distribute the re wards which were to be given for the best specimen of each kind of work, and the best records of attendance and recita tions. The affair " went off splendidly," as the girls enthusiasti cally declared when all was over, and the smiling children and proud parents had slowly disbanded, and sought their differ ent homes. There would be no difficulty, now, in securing pupils for the evening-school for "grown-ups," should they decide to undertake it, after vacation, or, rather, the diffi culty would probably consist in finding accommodation for all who would wish to come. But three months is a long look ahead, and, as it so often so nearly always happens, circumstances arose, before the vacation was over, which changed all their plans, or rather, rendered them totally unnecessary. Some years before the opening of the school, the wives of many of the planters, distressed by the small amount of religious instruction given to the negroes at their own meetings, obtained permission from the Danish Govern ment to collect them in the churches, after service, and instruct them there. On the first Sunday appointed for this purpose, only about one hundred presented themselves, but in a few weeks the various gatherings summed up between four and five hundred. Of course, for so large a number as this, many teachers were required, but about this there was no difficulty, for prompt offers of assistance came from all sides ; infant-classes for the totally ignorant were formed, and those who manifested more intelligence, or had already made some progress, were divided into smaller classes, with a teacher for each class. Many of the people, particularly among the younger men and women, made sur prising progress, soon learning to read, and asking to be DORIS AND THEODORA. 117 taught to write ; but many others, especially the younger children, forgot from Sunday to Sunday much that they had learned, and besides this, as the schools were established in the first place for religious instruction, the ladies hesitated about giving up so much time to that which was purely secular. It was, no doubt, the train of thought fired by the frequent discussions of the subject which they heard among their mothers and older friends, which led to the establish ment of the school in the sugar-house. But thoughtful men took up the subject; the Government became inter ested, and, during the summer following this successful beginning, divided the Island into districts, put up a school- house in each one, and appointed to each a teacher. The planters who owned slaves were required to send all the children to school for two hours every day, and later hours were appointed for the adults, when they were to have the opportunity not only of listening to religious teaching, but of learning to read, if they so wished. At about the same time, it was decided that all who were then children, and all born thenceforward, should be free at the age of twenty-one, and that all the older slaves should be emancipated after a term of years. This arrangement was equally acceptable to masters and servants, for while, in almost all cases, only friendly feeling prevailed, and faithful service was very often rendered, the enlightenment which they were receiving made the slaves feel that freedom would be preferable to the easiest and happiest form of slavery, and the masters, on their side, would be saved a heavy and often very troublesome responsibility, or, rather, a number of responsibilities, while they would have it in their power to discharge unruly and unprofitable servants, and to hire only those who were able and willing to work. The movement was progressing quietly and satisfactorily to all concerned, when it was inter- ]18 DORIS AND THEODORA. rupted by events which must be told in another chapter, as they do not yet come into the story of Doris s life. Miss Anna sailed on the day following the "commence ment ; " and if fond farewells, and good wishes, and the choicest flowers and fruit, could have secured her an agree able voyage, she would have been very sure of one. As it was, she was destined to suffer all the discomforts of a long and stormy passage, and was thankful for the first faint glimpse of her native land. Doris found herself rather more tired and listless, after this last excitement of parting with her beloved teacher was over, than she had expected to be, but a few days of rest and fresh air quite restored her to her usual bright health and spirits, and then she began happily to make ready for Leonard s coming. Certain favorite spots about the planta tion must be put in order, which should yet not look too order ly, and for this sort of work she always chose Cudjoe, whose intelligent devotion made him unrivaled for work of any sort. The sail-boat, too, must be thoroughly overhauled and repainted, and Leonard s own especial horse must be exercised and groomed, so that his master might almost believe he had ridden him only yesterday. The play-room, where Doris and Leonard had carried out so many wonder ful devices, must be beautified and made a comfortable retreat, in case Leonard should take a fancy to study there. So Doris went " lilting lightly " about house and grounds, too entirely happy to realize her happiness, and followed by loving looks and whispered blessings from parents and servants. Theo was with her most of the time ; she could "really walk now," as Doris said, and was making the most enchanting attempts to talk. It was a pretty sight, as the older sister guided the tiny feet from place to place, bending down to help them over rough spots and curbing her im- DORIS AND THEODORA. 119 patience to the rather slow pace which was necessary to the little Theo s safety. All was in readiness several days before the ship was signaled, and Doris was growing very impatient; she had somehow always fancied that it would be in the afternoon, toward sunset, that the signal would come, so, when several of the girls urged her to join an early morning riding party to the "north side," where they were all invited to breakfast, she accepted without hesitation, glad, for once, of something which would make the time seem to pass more rapidly. The excursion proved a very delightful one, but their hospitable entertainers made themselves so agreeable, that the home ward ride was not begun so early as they had intended, and it was nearly ten o clock, and intensely warm, when Doris, having bade her friends good-bye at the entrance-gate, came slowly up the avenue, checking Dirck, as, in his impatience to reach the stables, he tried again and again to break into a gallop. Cudjoe was waiting for her at the horse-block, with a smile of such unusual width on his honest black face, that Doris inquired pleasantly: " What is it, Cudjoe ? What has happened ? " " Missy see when she go in de house," he answered, ex tending the smile, until it seemed in danger of meeting at the back of his head, " Mass Le , dey say I not tell ! " A burst of ringing laughter from the hall followed Cudjoe s zealous attempt to keep the secret ; a tall form dashed down the steps, and Doris was caught from her pony, and held fast in Leonard s strong arms. Laughing and crying all at once, she tried to ask him when he had come. "You were hardly out of sight," he replied, "or so Cudjoe tells me, when our ship was signaled, but in the general excitement it did not seem to occur to anybody to run after you and bring you back, and then, after I had landed, and 120 DORIS AND THEODORA. got up here, and they told me where you were, it was so late, that uncle said it would not be worth while to send for you, for you would be at home soon, he knew." Oh, Leonard ! " exclaimed Doris, " how shabby you must think me, to go off this way, when we were expecting you all the time ! But, indeed, I was so sure you would come in the evening, just at sunset, that I never dreamed of missing your arrival by going away this morning I only thought it would make the waiting-time pass more quickly ! " "Well, and didn t it?" asked Leonard, with a joyous laugh ; " you see it fetched me immediately we have been beating about, outside the harbor, with a miserable contrary wind, and this morning the wind suddenly went about/ and we came sailing in as fast as even my heart could wish! How you have grown, Doris ! And how lovely the baby is and aunt and uncle don t look a day older, and the dear old place is just the same, and really, if it would not shock the servants, I should like to cart-wheel myself all over the piazza as it is, let s try this ! " and catching Doris into position, and whistling a lively dancing-tune, he waltzed her up and down the wide hall until both were breathless. Mrs. Campbell and her husband looking on from the cool parlor, and laughing quite as much from joy as from amusement. "You see, Doris," said Leonard, when they had subsided upon the lower step of the broad staircase, and he was vigorously fanning her, " I have been so fearfully studious, and dignified, and responsible, for the last few weeks, that this is the reaction and you haven t even asked me whether I pulled through, or whether I was plucked, and have come home to hide my head until my feathers grow again ! " " I should just like to know what chance you have given me to ask you anything, you crazy boy ! And it s extremely probable, isn t it, that you would be carrying on in this pre posterous manner if you had been plucked! But did you DORIS AND THEODORA. 121 just pull through, or come out, as I expected you to, with flying colors ? " " I haven t anything to complain of," he replied, content edly, " but, on the contrary, quite the reverse/ It suddenly struck me, a few months ago, when the professor had made me an unusually pretty speech, that if I really laid myself out on it, I might pass the examination for the Junior, in stead of the Sophomore class; I asked the old gentleman what he thought about it, and he encouraged me, in the kindest manner, to try. I tell you, I didn t let the grass grow under my intellectual feet, after I had once made up my mind, and written to have my application changed, for the thought of failure was horrible to me, and, Doris, I don t mind telling you, for I know you d never think I meant anything for bragging, but, although most of the others were college-fellows, who had been regularly through the Freshman and Sophomore classes, my name was third best in a class of sixty ! What do you think of that ? " "Just what I ve always thought about you, that you can do anything which you really try to do," said Doris, with a look of proud happiness on her face, such as none of her own achievements had ever called up; "that will take off two whole years from your college-course, and you ll begin your real career that much sooner!" "You re the worst sort of a flatterer," said Leonard, laugh ing, and coloring high with pleasure ; " every one else has seemed at least a little surprised, but you take it quite as a matter of course ! Don t cater to my vanity at that rate, Doris, or perhaps you ll turn me into an intolerable prig, who thinks the world not quite large enough for himself and his achievements !" " I m not afraid but do you know, Mr. Junior, this riding-habit is not quite so cool as a muslin, and I heard an ominous sound of ripping when you compelled me to that 6 122 DORIS AND THEODORA. wild waltz I must be permitted to put in for repairs and refitting, and then, oh then ! we will talk all day ! " "Well, don t be long, dear you look so dreadfully young- womanish, and sort of oh, I can t think of a word, but I do believe that if I d stopped to look at you, I should have been almost afraid to hug you, you great, tall, pr proper- looking person!" "And I should have been quite afraid to be hugged, if I had been given time to think about it, by such a fierce, commanding, elderly young man, especially " and Doris stroked her upper lip, and twirled her fingers, with a mis chievous laugh, as she sped upstairs. For on Leonard s lip was a faint black line, where the "coming event" of his mustache was "casting shadows before." Halcyon days followed that happy one of Leonard s arrival; long, delightful drives and rides and walks in the first sweet cool of the day; readings and talk and music when the heat drove them into the house; merry visiting and receiving in the starlit and moonlit evenings. The little Theo, shy at first of the tall, black-haired stranger, soon came to him with unquestioning confidence, and loved no perch better than she loved his strong shoulder. There were sailing parties, too, on the blue waters of the bay, and, whenever Doris could do so unobtrusively, and without seeming to make an especial point of it, she managed to in clude Hilda in their expeditions, usually arranging it so that there was also a companion for herself. Very often this was Jane Barrett. There was much sympathy between them, on many points, but they differed so entirely in some of their views, that argument was never at an end. It was always perfectly good-tempered, and both declared that they never felt so entirely settled in their convictions about anything as they did after one of these closely-contested engagements. Jane s mind was more logical than Doris s, and she was much DORIS AND THEODORA. 123 more capable of seeing all sides of a subject, but, on the other hand, Doris s perceptions were quicker and keener, and she never failed to seize an advantage or pounce upon a weak point. Miss Anna had so thoroughly succeeded in awaken ing their minds, and interesting them in the various ques tions of the day, that they were never at a loss for subjects of discussion ; these talks, in turn, led to much hunting of authorities, and they were both unusually well-informed for girls of their age and social position. One endless theme between them was slavery. Doris had become convinced that no man had a right to call another human being his property, and, although she had seen only the most rose- colored side of the evil, her imagination had enabled her to appreciate what this too-absolute power would be in the hands of wicked and unscrupulous persons. She was heartily glad that the emancipation-movement was begun, and could hardly be convinced of the rationality of making it slow and gradual, that so the people might be prepared to enjoy, and rightly use, their freedom. Jane, on the other hand, could not be convinced of the wisdom of freeing the slaves at all. She insisted that they were by nature improv ident and childish, and totally incapable of governing or providing for themselves, and that while, in the abstract, arguments against slavery were easily cited, it would be found impossible to make them work practically, adding, that the abuse of slavery was no more an argument against its use, than it would be in any of the countless cases where use was acknowledged to be right, and abuse to be wrong. So while Doris and Jane peaceably wrangled within reach of voices, but not of words, Hilda and Leonard found no apparent difficulty in keeping the peace. Doris had some time ago divined their partiality for each other, and she could see no reason why it might not, in time, grow into a deeper feeling. She had been inclined, when Leonard first began to express 124 DORIS AND THEODORA. to her his admiration for Hilda, to let jealousy weaken her friendship for one, and her love for the other, but she was learning better things, and, as soon as she felt certain that neither Mrs. Ufling nor Mr. Campbell objected to their fre quent meetings, she quietly withdrew into the background, whenever her doing so would leave Leonard more free to enjoy Hilda s society. Perhaps she could not so readily have done this, had she not felt a very warm and sincere admiration for Hilda s character, which was a fine and noble one, marred by one or two striking faults, the most notice able of which was pride. She was often placed in foolish and painful positions, brought about by her invincible re pugnance to retracting anything she had said, or abandoning any line of conduct to which she had committed herself, but she seemed to be waiting for some harder lesson than any she had as yet received, to arouse her to a true sense of this fault. Doris was amply rewarded for her unselfish regard for Leonard s happiness, by his increasing affection and con fidence. He had not yet spoken plainly concerning Hilda, bat he took no pains to hide from his sister the state of his feelings, and to thank her, by look and manner, for the part she was taking. To a fun-loving girl of sixteen, the temp tation to teasing words and looks was sometimes very great, but she carefully refrained from yielding to it. She had told Leonard all the particulars of the Twelfth- night party, and he had listened with much amusement; but there had been so much to hear and to tell, upon both sides, that he had not remembered for many days about the ring and handkerchief and stick, and, as soon as he noticed the heavy and beautiful ring upon Hilda s engagement-finger, it filled him with a nameless apprehension. He also saw, or fancied he saw, that she seemed embarrassed, on two or three occasions, by his looking at the ring. He tried in vain to think of some easy and natural way of introducing the sub- DORIS AND THEODORA. 125 ject, and he could not quite bring himself to ask Doris about it. Hilda, on her side, could not account for the conscious feeling which held her back whenever she attempted to tell him about the ring, which was as often as she saw him look ing at it. It did not occur to her that her wearing it on the engagement-finger could mislead any one, and she did not understand the look of uneasiness which the sight of it called up in his face. They were riding together, one morning, with Doris and Jane Barrett at a little distance before them, when Hilda, who had taken off her gloves to secure the pins in her hair, dropped one, and he at once sprang off his horse to pick it up. As he handed it back to her, she held out her left hand for it, merely because the reins were in her right. Here, it seemed to him, was his opportunity. He did not dare to take her hand, as he would have done a few years before, without a moment s hesitation, but he did not at once release the glove, and remarked, as carelessly as possible : ff What a very beautiful ring that is, Miss Hilda it looks like a piece of English workmanship." " It is," replied Hilda, emulating his would-be carelessness, but, to her extreme vexation, she knew by the sudden heat in her cheeks, that they had turned conspicuously red. Now it so happened that Leonard had heard, only this very morning, that an English man-of-war had been stationed off the Island during many months of his absence, and he at once jumped to a most rash and unwarrantable conclusion. He had meant to ask Hilda to let him examine the ring more closely, and then artfully lead the conversation in such a way that she would set his mind at rest about the giver, without being able to charge him with unwarrantable curi osity. But what was the use, now ? he asked himself, and a very dismal echo answered, None ! If it had been simply a gift from one of her girl-friends, or a member of her family, 126 DORIS AND THEODORA. he argued, she would Lave had no earthly reason for looking confused about it ; one of the traits which he had always ad mired iii her was her proud frankness ; one might rely upon hearing the exact truth from Hilda, always, and about every tiling. Well, if she did not choose to tell him, he certainly would concern himself no farther, and if she did choose to throw away her heart and such a heart! upon one of those English coxcombs, he hoped he could stand it it showed that he had been mistaken in her, that was all ! Thought is a quick traveler, and all this gloom passed through his mind in the few seconds during which he kept his hold upon Hilda s glove. He released it with a sudden ness which almost made her hand fly up, and sprang upon his horse without another word. And then it suddenly dawned upon her, that the beautiful ring, arid the engage ment-finger, and her own "silly confusion" would drive him to but one inference ! If only she had not been so utter ly foolish ! Surely he was too thoroughly a gentleman to have imagined anything which she would dislike him to imagine, if she had frankly and unconsciously told the history of the ring, the first time she saw that he noticed it. It was too late now, however, she was very sure of that. If he chose to think idiotic and uncharitable things about her, why, he was quite welcome to ! And in a very few moments she had worked herself into an injured-innocence frame of mind quite equal to his own. But, being a woman, she recovered her outward serenity long before he did ; before they had gone a mile, she was talking in her brightest manner, and was so very gay and gracious, that he decided immediately that she must be in tensely happy, and benevolently anxious to give him such crumbs of her happiness as she felt she might justly dispense to the outside world ! He was very much obliged to her, but that was not exactly the sort of happiness he wanted. And DORIS AND THEODORA. 127 he was so dull and spiritless during tlic remainder of the ride, that Hilda reached home in a curiously-divided frame of mind she was deeply vexed and annoyed at the blunder he had " chosen" to make ; whence, then, was this buoyant feeling of delight, as she thought of his rueful countenance when he last looked upon the fateful ring? One thing was quite certain ; there was nothing whatever for her to say or do in the matter. In the course of time he would learn he could not fail to learn from Doris, or some one of the seven girls, about the Twelfth-night party, and the manner in which tho lots had fallen, and if, in the meantime, he chose to make himself miserable with facts of his own inventing, it was no affair of hers ! But suppose, just for argument s sake, that in the meantime he happened to discover what a very intelligent and attractive girl Jane Barrett was ? It was proverbial that wounded hearts, and especially men s hearts, were frequently cured by a second wound. Let it be so, then, rather than she should step down by a hair s-brcadth from the pinnacle of her womanly dignity. She had let the precious time, when she might with perfect innocence have told him about the ring, slip out of reach, so now she would take the consequences. And there was no apparent differ ence in her, while she was taking them, save that she held her head a little higher, and seemed rather more gay and light-hearted than usual. As for Leonard, he, being "only a man," allowed it to be seen very plainly that something was troubling him. lie was much more silent than usual, and, for the first time in his life, and to Doris s utter amazement, inclined to be a little peevish and captious. He managed to escape the morning-ride for several days, by starting at abnormally early hours upon long walks, and having discovered the renovation of the old play-room, to retreat there for study with a persistency which, under different circumstances, 128 DORIS AND THEODORA. would have been highly creditable to him ! For a few days Doris unsuspectingly accepted his excuses " at the foot of the letter." Then she began to wonder, and finally to suspect, not the exact state of affairs, but that Leonard and Hilda must have quarreled about something what, she could not imagine, for whenever she had chanced to make a third in any of their recent conversations, it had struck her that such perfect unanimity of sentiment as they manifested must be excessively monotonous! Besides, it seemed to her that if they really had quarreled, Hilda would not be in such un usually good spirits. Still, she hesitated about saying any thing to Leonard alluding to the state of affairs, lest he might think her meddlesome, and as he and Hilda tried very hard to meet and speak as if nothing had come between them, she tried to believe that this supposition was purely imagin ary on her part. She was not left long to conjecture, how ever, for Leonard, when the siege had lasted three or four days, suddenly hit upon what he considered a highly astute and prudent plan for discovering whether or not his suspi cions were correct. Doris had inveigled him into riding with her that morn ing by saying, the evening before, "The girls cannot go riding with me to-morrow morning, Leonard ; are you going to leave me to my fate, and allow me to ride alone ? " " Of course I am not, Miss Goose ! " he said, putting his arm about her, and joining in her walk up arid down the stone piazza; "you shouldn t ask questions of which you know the answer ! " " Please, what should I have said ? " asked Doris, with pretended meekness. " You should have said, Leonard, I desire your attendance on my ride to-morrow morning, with the air of conferring a favor ! " "But I don t desire it ! " said Doris, simply, "unless you DORIS AND THEODORA. 129 really wish to go. You seem to have fallen in love with solitude, lately, and I do not wish to drag you, an unwilling prisoner, at Dirck s heels." " You are very good, ma am, exceedingly considerate, but when I begin to find it a burden to wait on my only sister, I will hasten to let you know ! " " Thank you," said Doris, laughing; " I hope you will not hesitate. But I am not sure I shall release you, even after you tell me." " Oh yes, you will, when I tell you ! " he rejoined, "but you needn t do it before! By the way, Doris, if you don t mind getting up a little earlier, we might take that delightful long ride through the plantations, and coming home by the beach, that we took the day before I went away last fall. Perhaps we shall meet old Semira I haven t had any maube since I came home, and I want some !" "Oh, that will be delightful!" said Doris, eagerly. "I was wondering if you remembered about that last ride, and I don t mind getting up sooner, in the least. I do believe Nana could call me at any hour of the night that I chose to fix ! " "Very well she d better call me too, for I might not hap pen to wake." " It would be a happen if you did! " replied Doris; "you don t suppose I was going to trust you about that, Mr. Leon ard ? You mean well over night, but you don t recollect your meaning in the morning, always ! " " Do you remember what I used to do to you, miss, when you indulged in such impertinence as that, in those good old vanished days when your hair and frock were short ? " There was a mischievous gleam in Leonard s eyes, and a little forward motion, as if he were "up-and-a-coming," and Doris, laughing and shaking a threatening finger at him, ran into the house, and called from the door, " Don t behave like a Freshman, dear! Good night." CHAPTEE Till. rTlHEY were off by half-past four the next morning, and ~L Leonard, calling himself a number of uncomplimentary names, resolutely shook off the depression of the last few days, teasing Doris into making bright retorts and daring sallies into the enemy s country. She had not realized how much his unusual dullness had affected her own spirit, but she rose, at the change, with her usual buoyancy, laughing at and helping him to recall the old jokes, which still re tained their flavor. They sang, too, when they came to a part of the road where they were sure of not being heard ; Doris s sweet, pure contralto harmonizing with Leonard s tenor voice in a manner very agreeable to both of them. They had made the greater part of the long round, and had reached the smooth, firm sand of the beach, reining in their horses to enjoy the sparkling prospect, and the " keen, sweet smell," when Leonard, in -his most casual and careless man ner, observed : It s a great pity Jeanie and Hilda could not come with us this morning. We must try to arrange with them to make this round again, in their company." "Yes," said Doris, quite aware that Leonard had some special object in view, in introducing Hilda s name, but suc ceeding in looking quite unaware, save for a little twinkle in her eyes; " they have never been just this way, although I dare say they have gone over all the ground, at different times. Perhaps we can manage it next week I could ask Hilda and Jeanie to spend the night with me, so that we might be sure of an early start." DORIS AND THEODORA. 131 "I should think that would be better," said Leonard, with an air of impartial judgment which tickled Doris s sense of the ludicrous so that she could scarcely suppress a smile. " By the way, Doris," he added, " I suppose you did not want for cavaliers while that English ship was stationed here. I was looking over the card-basket, and I found five cards inscribed with the same name Colonel John Liscombe and English names in smaller quantities scattered all through the basket." " My dear Leonard," said Doris, allowing herself to laugh now, "have you so entirely imbibed the etiquette of the States that you imagine that we, a parcel of school-girls, not yet out, even, were allowed to be cavaliered by dashing English officers ? A series of highly proper calls upon mamma, during which I was sometimes permitted to share the radiance of their uniforms, and one state dinner, in which I joined by special dispensation, are all the English naval affairs of which I can speak by anything more than hearsay." "But surely it was not so at the other houses," said Leonard ; " you know aunt and uncle are considered rather behind the age in their ideas about you and society." " Oh, of course they were entertained by nearly every one," replied Doris, "but so far as we seven were concerned, it mattered very little, for Miss Anna has managed to persuade all the other mothers to suppress their daughters until next year, when we are to finish/ or rather, she is to finish, and we, as she insists, are to go on by ourselves." "Then do you really mean to say," asked Leonard, with a perceptible access of cheerfulness, " that none of the seven saw any more of these fascinating Englishmen than you did?" " I think I may safely say so," answered Doris, "although," she added, mischievously, "I don t know that I should have 132 DORIS AND THEODORA. felt called upon to do so, but for this rigid cross-examina tion. Did you fear the effect of a uniform and cocked-hat upon my infant mind ? Then I will mention, in confidence, that so far as my limited opportunities enabled me to judge, the Englishmen were painfully stupid what you would probably call sticks. But come we have admired the view for fully five minutes, and Dirck always expects a gallop on this stretch of sand." Leonard was well satisfied to take the gallop, and defer the rest of his inquisition. The satisfaction he had obtained was purely negative, and he intended, so far as he could, to make it positive. He did not feel justified in saying any thing to Hilda of the love which had only fully asserted itself in his heart when the idea entered that some one else might claim her. He was not quite twenty years old ; she was only about seventeen ; the money left him by his father was enough amply to educate him, and to help him, with some economy, for a year at least after his education should be finished ; but, until he could prove his ability to win his way, and make a definite start upon the path to success, he had no right to entangle any one else in his destiny; and this he felt yery strongly, and, until within the past few days, he had imagined that he would be quite content to wait. But he found it was one thing to wait with the knowledge that Hilda was still a school-girl, secluded from general society, and quite another, under the circumstances which he had been imagining, since he noticed the ring. And he had begun to debate with himself whether he might not, without transgressing his code, say something which, while it would reveal his own feelings, and pledge him to her, would leave her entirely free. The more he thought of this, however, the more difficult he found it to frame the exact speech he would like to make, and at last he resolved to take Doris fully into his confidence, and ask her to keep DORIS AND THEODORA. 133 him posted, during his long absence, as to the dangers which threatened his suit to Hilda ; then, if he should have any real cause for alarm, he resolved to risk refusal, or the tediousness of a long engagement, and speak, no matter how distant the prospect of their marriage might be. So that evening, when Doris and he were wandering, arm in arm, up and down the avenue, he dropped foils and mask, and came boldly to the point, with "Doris, can you tell me, without betraying confidence, the history of that curious ring which Hilda wears on her engagement-finger ? " "I can, Leonard," said Doris, in tones so serious that Leonard, who could not see her laughing eyes, felt his heart sink suddenly; "it is a sort of pledge perhaps it would be too much to call it a gage cT amour, as we say in French, but it was given to signify that she, of the seven, would be the first to marry." Dead silence on Leonard s part. " Do not misunderstand me," continued Doris, her affec tion for Leonard conquering her desire to torment him a little ; " it is the ring, my dear brother, which Hilda found in her piece of cake on the night of the Twelfth-night party, of which I gave yon, I believe, a full, true and partic ular account, the day after your arrival ;" and Doris, no longer attempting to conceal her feelings, laughed with such child like delight that Leonard felt constrained to join in her laughter. " You are the same elfish creature that you were before you tucked up your hair and put on long skirts," he said, recovering his voice ; " but I don t care a farthing, miss you may laugh to your heart s content now! Only when you have quite finished, I am going to take you into my confidence, unworthy of it as you are, and ask a favor of you beside." 134 DORIS AND THEODORA. " Oh, then I have quite finished now !" said Doris, eagerly, "only, my dear boy," and here her laughter bubbled up afresh, " if you think you haven t been taking me into your confidence, with your well-selected remarks and carefully- careless questions, you must have a very low opinion of my intellect ! " " Now, Doris," said Leonard, pleadingly, "please don t make game of me any more, for indeed you can t imagine how much in earnest I am. I am quite willing to admit that I have been making a fool of myself for the past three or four days, but you don t know how I ve been feeling. I didn t know myself, at all, that I cared for Hilda in in that way, you know, till I saw the ring on her engagement-finger, and you can t think how miserable I have been, for I felt at once that with my rather distant prospect of fame and for tune, I had no right even to try to find out whether or not she cared for me. And don t imagine that that is what I m after now I hope I am above any such business as that but I do want to ask a great favor of you, dear one that I neither would or could ask of any one else in the world. May I?" " Dear Leonard," said Doris, affectionately, and as soberly as the most exacting confidante-seeker could have wished, " you know you can, without asking. There io nothing that you would ask of me, that I should not at least try to do for you. Don t you believe that ? " " I do, you dear little woman ! and what I want is nothing impossible, or even very difficult. I think Hilda is more intimate with you than she is with the other girls you seem to meet of tencr than the rest do, and you know all about her daily life. Now, as I said, I have no right, with such remote prospects, to try to bind her in any way. I tried to think, for a while, that it would be possible for me to bind myself and leave her free, but I soon saw that was folly a woman DORIS AND THEODORA. 135 so intensely and proudly honorable as she is, would feel more bound by an understanding like that, if she could bring her self to care for me, than she would by an absolute promise. Don t you think so yourself ? " "Yes," said Doris, thoughtfully. "You have read her very well, Leonard ; she would not allow you, if she cared for you, to consider yourself pledged, unless she were fully as much so. And somehow I may be mistaken but I think I know Hilda, and I am afraid she would not bo happy under a long engagement. I have noticed, ever since I was old enough to think about it, that whatever she plans to do she likes to do promptly. Anything like suspense or delay seems to fret her almost intolerably. I don t mean that she is fretful outwardly, or peevish, or anything like that; but I can see, from the expression of her face, how it wears on her. And honestly, Leonard, I could not tell you, if I would, whether or not she cares a pin for you except as a very good friend and pleasant companion. We have talked about such things sometimes I suppose all girls do more or less and she has always expressed the most withering contempt for women who allow themselves to think of a man in that way until he has unequivocally asked them to. She threw down a story we were reading, right in the middle, and couldn t be induced to go on with it, just because the heroine who was rather soft, I admit, but a pleasant creature, after a fashion was breaking her heart for a man who had only made a few eyes at and pretty speeches to her ! She evidently scorned us all for caring to finish the story. So you see, you never will know, till the time comes when you feel free to ask, and that will be so long to wait, ever so many things may happen in the mean time." "I know," said Leonard, sadly"! acknowledge the reasonableness of all you say, dear, but I love her. And 136 DORIS AND THEODORA. this is what I want you to do : to tell me if you see any danger approaching if you see any one trying to to in terest Hilda to tell me at the very first, before the danger becomes real, and then I will risk everything, and try my fate ; and if she should accept me though 1 don t dare to hope much that she will I will double my efforts to make the time of waiting short. But I will only speak if there is real danger otherwise, I will wait until I have at least made a start, and have a fair prospect of success. Will you do this for me, Doris, dear sister ? " "I will, gladly," replied Doris, "and I wish I could do much more. I love Hilda dearly, and I think she loves me, and it would make me very happy to have her for a sister, Leonard. And I think you will be much more likely to succeed, with that hope before you, than you would be with out it. You may reasonably hope to be under way in five years from now, and that is not long. Why, just think how many years it is since you came to live with us, and it seems as if it might have been last year!" " Yes," said Leonard, " when I think how busy I shall be, I try to believe that the time will go quickly. And I have been thinking lately about all the long time that Jacob served for Kachel, and how it seemed but a few days, for the love he bore her/ Nothing ought really to seem hard to me when I think of Hilda." Doris neither knew, nor tried to know, how Leonard managed to convey to Hilda the fact that he knew all the circumstances attending her possession of the ring, but it was quite evident, in a few days, that they had returned to their former friendly footing. And through all the rest of Leonard s holiday Hilda neither sought nor shunned him, but she seemed happy in his society, and frankly expressed her regret at his departure. It seemed to Doris that she missed him more, this time, DORIS AND THEODORA. 137 than she had ever done before. Their talks had gradually grown more serious and full of purpose, and the sympathy which she felt for him about Hilda. had drawn them even more closely together. He had very high ideas of what his profession would demand of him, and a sort of steadfast enthusiasm for it, apart from the aspirations awakened by his love for Hilda. Doris saw clearly that, even should all his hopes in that direction end in defeat and fail ure, he would still go steadily on in the path which he had marked out for himself, and allow his disappointment to affect only his own life. His character had developed very rapidly in the past year, and the development had all been in the right direction. And when she saw the firm resolu tion with which he adhered to his purpose not to speak to Hilda of his love for her before he left her for another year, respect equaled love. Miss Eobeston came back early in September, and her seven scholars entered upon their last year at school. But she tried, more than ever, to make them feel that their edu cation was beginning, rather than ending. They all meant to keep on with certain of their studies after leaving school, and several of them asked Miss Robeston to mark out a course of historical reading for them, and to make a list of general reading besides. Now that the school for the negroes was taken out of their hands, those who were following some special study devoted themselves to it more zealously than ever. Doris usually managed to secure four hours a day for practising, and her improvement, after a few weeks, was so marked as to greatly encourage her. She still heard from, and wrote to, Mr. San ton at rather long intervals, and his letters always contained valuable suggestions and kindly encouragement. Her playing and singing gave great de light to Antoinette; and, busy as she was, she managed, once or twice a week, to spend an afternoon or evening 138 DORIS AND THEODORA. with her invalid friend, "the name of whose chamber was peace," and she always came away humbled and strength ened humbled, as she saw the heights to which Antoinette had attained, and strengthened by the thought that, if she herself "yet persevered," she too might reach those un troubled heights, leaving behind the small vexations and annoyances which, with her ardent temperament, she now felt so keenly, as the traveler, pushing steadily up the mountain-side, leaves behind the belt of cloud and mist. The work of emancipation among the slaves was going quietly and peacefully on. Most of the planters were help ing and instructing them to make the best use of their free dom, and the feeling of affection between servants and mas ters was, in many instances, so great that the latter remained in their old homes, with but little change in their mode of living, preferring to receive the continued use of their houses and allotments of land, and their rations and clothing, to giving all these up for a fixed sum in money. Mr. Camp bell s slaves were among this number, and when he found the distress with which the older ones looked forward to being obliged to find home and support for themselves, he assured them that, while all who wished to make the change would of course be free to do so, he would continue to sup port the old and feeble, and that none of them would be obliged to leave their homes. In this way they scarcely realized the change that was going on, and still less did they realize another and more startling change which was also in progress. Certain evil-minded people from the English islands, whether from the hope of securing plunder or power cannot now be known, began quietly to sow the seeds of dis content among the negroes, suggesting to them that they were wronged by this slow and gradual emancipation, and that they had a right to immediate and general freedom. The more faithful and attached among them at first refused DORIS AND THEODORA. 139 to listen to this counsel, but gradually the leaven worked, and the few who remained steadfast found themselves in the minority, and in many instances were obliged to conceal their real feelings, and at least appear to join the movement. Months passed before their cunning advisers permitted the negroes to make any overt demonstration, but there was a sort of feeling of thunder in the air, especially upon those plantations where the slaves were least kindly and consid erately treated ; and even upon places such as Mr. Campbell s and those of his immediate friends, a change was felt rather than seen. "Work was neglected or badly done, insubordina tion was frequent, and grumbling and complaint still more frequent. The planters found a decrease both in their profits and their comfort, but still the cloud hung suspended, and did not break. Doris, absorbed in her studies, and, when free from them, happy in her home life and the daily-increasing loveliness of her baby sister, saw and felt nothing of this depressing in fluence. The house-servants, while they were afraid to raise any protest among their own people, remained faithful in their feelings and in their work, and with the field-hands she had but little to do. So another winter and spring passed busily and happily away, and her last year at school was drawing rapidly to a close. But few of her girl friends had been so entirely secluded from general society, at her age, as she was, and Mrs. Campbell had been obliged to with stand a great deal of coaxing and pleading, in keeping to her resolve not to let Doris " come out " until she was seventeen, and had stopped going to school. The birthday would be on the IGth of July, and Mrs. Campbell was preparing to give a large entertainment, on that night, to introduce her older daughter to society. Doris had urged upon Leonard the importance of being at home in time for this great event, and, much to her satisfaction, he arrived two or three days 140 DORIS AND THEODORA. beforehand, and actively superintended the hanging of the Chinese lanterns in the trees around the house, and from the roof of the veranda. The stone piazza was lighted by groups of candles in the glass globes which, because of the many open doors and windows, were used universally to screen candles from the strong draughts of air. Doris s pretty white gown was all ready ; it had not occurred to her that she would need any ornaments beside the flowers in her hair and at her throat, but, on the morning of her birthday, she found upon her plate a case containing a full set of pearls necklace and pendant, bracelets, and a string for her hair. Her mother and father had sent to England for them, and, as they were the first jewelry, save the "stick," and her pretty watch and chain, that she had ever owned, she was greatly delighted with them. "When Theo is seventeen, she must have emeralds, mamma," said Doris, laughing, out of the lightness of her heart, as she fastened the pearls, and tried to make the baby- sister look at them ; " she is so very, very fair that she will look perfectly lovely in them you ve only to wait fifteen years, not quite that, either, baby, for your emeralds ! What a long, long time that seems, mamma, doesn t it ? " "It does, looking forward, darling," replied Mrs. Camp bell, "but it does not seem long to me since you were Theo s age ; and when you are thirty-two, and she is seventeen, it will not seem long to you." "Oh, mamma! that sounds so old and dignified! I won der how it will feel." "Not so very dreadful, I hope," said her mother, laugh ing; "you know I will be thirty-eight, next fall, and I really don t think I feel so old as I did when I was twenty." "Oh, you are never to grow old, mamma!" said Doris, affectionately ; " I shall pretend, to-night, that you are my beautiful sister, just a year or two older than I am myself." DORIS AND THEODORA. 141 And indeed, when Mrs. Campbell and her daughter came down to the drawing-room, just before their guests began to arrive, Doris s "pretend " would not have been a difficult one for anybody. Mrs. Campbell s fair skin and hair, and large blue eyes, together with the sweet, untroubled expression of her face, made her look much younger than she really was, and if Doris s head had not been well-ballasted by common- sense and her unusually- thorough education, it might easily have been turned, that night, by the flattering speeches which she shared with her mother, as they stood together at the end of the long drawing-room to receive the guests. It was not until quite late in the evening, when it was no longer probable that there would be any more arrivals, that Doris was released, and began to fulfil the engagements to dance with which her card was filled. She enjoyed dancing heartily ; but, in these days of " hops," where round-dancing is freely engaged in by young girls and men who have no knowledge of each other save their names, the more dignified and stately dances of that day would no doubt be considered "awfully slow." They danced quadrilles and country- dances, and at many of the more private entertainments even the more careful among the mothers permitted waltzing ; but Mrs. Campbell had her own ideas about this, as about a number of things in which she differed from her friends and acquaintances, and Doris s intimacy with and entire faith in her mother, made it impossible for them to differ upon a subject like this. So Doris had resolved, before any temptation had made resolution more difficult, to dance only square dances, and her father and Leonard both laughingly assured her that, whenever she pined for a waltz, they would be most happy to play partners, while Mrs. Campbell played upon the piano. 142 DORIS AND THEODORA. It was not the custom in Santa Cruz, at this time, to in vite the younger members of families without their elders, but none of the younger ones seemed to look upon this fact as a constraint, or imposition. The merriment, no doubt, was less boisterous and demonstrative than it is where all are young together, but it was none the less genuine and de lightful, when young girls came, each with her own mother and father, instead of being consigned by the half-dozen to the care of a nominal cbaperone. To Doris, every pleasure in which her mother shared was doubled, and all her more intimate friends had the same feeling. Gay talk and laughter echoed that night, under the trees, where the Chinese lanterns and colored lamps made a " fairy- garden," almost as light as day, and where the young people promenaded with their partners after every dance. Doris often, in after years, recalled among other bright recollec tions of that happy evening, the feeling, which she then scarcely realized, of being surrounded by near and loving friends. There were few present who had not known her from babyhood; in all the homes which these friendly faces represented she was a dear and welcome guest ; the younger members were her playfellows and companions, the older ones felt a warm and affectionate interest in her future. No wonder smiles and laughter were so ready and spontaneous ; she had yet to feel the first cold blast from the air of the outer world. Many times that evening she was congratulated upon the success of all the arrangements, and laughingly referred the congratulators to her mother and father. A brass band, con cealed in a bower of palm-branches at one end of the draw ing-room, made " eloquent music ; " the floor was in perfect condition for dancing; the smooth, dry walks among the trees, swept clean as the dancing-floor, afforded ample space for the promenaders ; the refreshments, although at this date DORIS AND THEODORA. 143 they would be much too simple for a company of the sort, were considered ample then ; tea and chocolate, cakes of several kinds, with guava and other jellies and preserves, fruit, and confectionery. A pretty table, shining with glass and silver, was spread in one of the verandas, and several servants attended it ; here, from time to time, the young cavaliers brought their dancing-partners, for such refresh ment as they chose. Leonard was indefatigable in waiting on any who chanced to be overlooked, in finding partners for the " wall-flowers," or, if unable to do this, serving in that capacity himself, and his bright face and pleasant voice, here, there, and everywhere, contributed far more than he imagined to the pleasure of the evening. It was late before the last carriage drove away, but Doris was far from sleepy. Her eyes shone with pleasant excitement, and she begged for a few minutes, "just to talk it all over." " I can t take it in at all," said Leonard, with pretended mournfulness ; " she s a young woman now, aunt, and I sup pose I shouldn t dare even to tickle her again, for in stance ! " Doris turned slowly round in front of the mirror in the pier, admiring the soft folds of her first train, or rather of her first really " grown-up " gown. "Of course you shouldn t," she said, gravely; "you should behave to me now precisely as you do to your aunt, and Mrs. Santon, and Mrs. Ufling shouldn t he, mamma ? " " Wouldn t it be rather more consistent for him to behave as he does to Hilda, and Jeanie, and the rest of the septette?" said Mrs. Campbell, smiling at Doris s airs. " Well yes, mamma, perhaps it would," she admitted ; "I was thinking that being grown up made me just as old as you! But isn t it queer until this morning, I felt as if I were only sixteen, and a school-girl yet ; and now, all of a sudden, I seem to be a whole year older, and I feel as if I 144 DORIS AND THEODORA. had crossed a bridge which had immediately broken down behind me, so that I cannot possibly get back again, even if I should want to ! But I don t suppose I shall, fortu nately." " Doris ! " exclaimed her father, springing up, and, with his hands about her waist, propelling her in the direction of the door, " do you know that it is two o clock ? And do you think we will permit you to go to that stupendous affair next week, if this is the result of a small and moderate one ? " "Oh papa! Don t try to break my heart! I m going, instantly ! " And with gay good-nights, she was gone. But her mother and father looked at each other with a quick glance of sym pathy. Their little daughter had vanished, and here was a beautiful young woman in her stead a very loving and lovable one, truly, but not their little child. OHAPTEE IX. THE " stupendous affair " of which Mr. Campbell spoke was a ball to be given by the officers of the war-vessel then stationed in the harbor the "King Christian." This vessel was about to be relieved, her year in the harbor having expired ; and the officers, who had received much kindly hospitality from the islanders, had been waiting for the arrival of the relief, to make some slight return. They had arranged to give a ball on the night before their departure, on board their own ship, but orders had come which obliged them to leave a day sooner than they had anticipated, and the officers, not being able to reach in time all to whom invi tations had been sent, hastily transferred their preparations to the newly arrived ship, and, after a hurried consultation, added one more feature to their entertainment, which would give it the air of having been carefully planned, instead of disturbed by the unexpected order. Some of the younger officers had intimated, weeks before, what might be expected before they sailed, and there had been a flutter of joyful anticipation among the very young girls. To those who had been a year or two in society, affairs of this sort were no novelty, for they were frequently given; to those just entering, however, it seemed a wildly romantic and delightful thing, and absorbed their thoughts and conversation whenever three or four of them happened to meet. Doris had expected to wear again the pretty, simple white gown provided for her "coming-out," and was quite content to do so, and well-pleased with the idea of making a little 7 146 DORIS AND THEODORA. change in her appearance by changing the ribbons, and wearing different flowers. But her mother knew that all the other girls were to be provided with new and especially hand some dress for this entertainment; she was still young enough to remember very vividly her own feelings on occasions of the kind; and, although she had never been inordinately fond of clothes, she had enjoyed, as every girl does, the knowledge that she was prettily and appropriately dressed. She knew that the soft white fabric which Doris had worn that first delightful evening had lost a little of its first freshness, and that the sea-air, to which on the night of the officers ball it would be so much exposed, would finish its demoralization before the close of the evening. Among her own wedding-gifts was some very beautiful black lace; she had worn it but little, and, } r oung as she still was, she cared nothing for society, being thoroughly ab sorbed in the duties and pleasures of her home, and did not wish to keep the lace for the faint possibility that she might ever wear it again. She expected to go out more now, than had been her habit for some years, as chaperone for Doris, but on these occasions a handsome silk would be most ap propriate ; and beside, she was tempted by a vision of her "little woman " in the black lace, with red roses in her hair and at her throat, the dark eyes shining, and the deep, bright color of cheeks and lips looking deeper and brighter by contrast with her dress. The lace was soft and clinging, with no stiffness to lose, and, made over some light gauzy black material, would drape the lithe young figure most be comingly. When Doris was called for the first " trying-on," her pleas ure and gratitude were pleasant things to see. "Oh mamma!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms about her mother s neck, " am I really to have that lovely lace for my very own to wear it on Thursday evening ? But it was DORIS AND THEODORA. 147 grandpa s wedding present to you ought you to give it away ? Can t you wear it again yourself ? " " You are really to have it for your very own," replied her mother, smiling, and kissing her fondly, "and you are to wear it on Thursday evening, and I ought to give it away to my older daughter, if it will give her pleasure ; and I can t wear it again, with any comfort, for I have resolved, for a long time, always to dress a little in advance of my age, rather than below it, and a dress such as I am having made for you, would be altogether too young-ladyish for me. Now are you satisfied, little madame ?" " Not quite, mamma," said Doris, doubtfully, " for I never like to hear you talk about your age in that way ; and be side, Mrs. lifting told you, the other day, that you are begin ning to be quite too elderly in your dress, Now, don t you see how lovely this lace would look, used as a trimming for black silk?" And Doris bunched a yard of flouncing against her black silk apron. " And don t you see," replied her mother, calling her at tention to the pieces spread out upon the bed, " that it is so arranged that, when it is properly made up, the foundation scarcely shows at all ? And would you have me waste good black silk by covering it up in that manner ? No, my little daughter ; I have had one pleasure from my beautiful lace more than one, indeed and now I shall have another, in seeing it upon you, and if, when Theo comes out, you are an old married woman, quite settled and staid, perhaps you will be contriving a dress out of it for her, as I am now doing for you ; for, just think ! when Theo is eighteen, you will be nearly thirty- three ; not so very many years younger than I am now can you realize that ? " "I don t believe I can, mamma," said Doris, thoughtfully; " it s very silly, I know, but I always fancy Theo sort of 148 DORIS AND THEODORA. catching up with me, and our being nearly the same age, and going everywhere together. And indeed, I didn t refuse the dress because I shouldn t love to have it I shall care more for it than for anything I have ever worn, just because of it s being dear grandpa s gift to you, and because you have had some lovely times in it, before it came to me. But you mustn t be disappointed with the way I look in it, -Mrs. Mother you must have been too beautiful for anything, when you were my age. If I didn t feel so sure as I do that I am your very ownest daughter, I should think I was a changeling, put into the cradle by a spiteful brownie, who stole the fair little baby that belonged there." It had been a great disappointment to Doris, whenever she had stopped to think about it, that she bore so little resem blance to her fair and beautiful young mother. She admit ted that her father was handsome and distinguished-looking, but maintained that that made no difference what was very becoming in a man was quite the reverse in a woman, and that beside she was that most painful of all resemblances, " a homely likeness " of her father. This she had" been told when she was very young, and it had made a lasting impres sion on her. Upon her coloring and great play of expression depended much of the beauty of her face, and, even had she been devoted to her mirror, which she was not, she would have obtained little or no idea of how she really looked. Her bright, sweet smile, and ever-varying expressions of interest and sympathy, made a real beauty, one that would increase, rather than diminish, with advancing years. Theo was her mother in miniature, and Doris declared that she looked as if she were made of " snow and sunshine." The soft loopings and folds of the black lace dress were caught, here and there, with small bunches of some very real-looking, pale, pink May roses a box of beautiful and most natural artificial flowers had just come to Mrs. Camp- DORIS AND THEODORA. 149 bell from a friend in Paris, and she advised Doris to use some of them in this way, as real ones would fade and fall before the close of the evening. She could wear the real roses in her hair and at her throat, where they would not be crushed, but in the narrow space which the ship would afford for the large number of guests invited, flowers about a skirt would stand a poor chance of survival till the even ing should be over. There was no moonlight on the night of the "great event," but the large, lustrous stars of the tropics almost made up for the absence of the moon. The air was soft and cool, and the skilful rowers raised and lowered their oars almost without a sound, as they rowed the guests in relays out into the harbor, where the "King Christian" and " Thekla " were anchored, not far apart. It was easy to see, even from the shore, that the latter was to be the scene of the festivities. Lamps and candles in colored globes were hung wherever hanging-room could be found ; glossy wreaths of myrtle and bay, and banks of flowers and greenery, hid all unsightly objects ; soft notes of music from a skilfully- concealed brass band floated over the water, and set little feet in eager motion before the deck was reached. Eefresh- ments of every procurable kind were lavishly provided ; a wide space on the snowy deck was left entirely clear for the dancers, while comfortable seats for those who could not or would not dance surrounded the dancing-floor, so that those who did not participate might at least have the full benefit of a view of those who did. The whole arrangement was pronounced " simply perfect," and this verdict did not come from the novices, to whom most things seemed perfect, alone the mothers and aunts and older sisters, whose opinions, based upon experience, carried more weight, warmly agreed with the praises of the " young, young things;" and not the least pleasant feature 150 DORIS AND THEODORA. of the entertainment was the pleased and smiling look upon almost every face, for the officers, who really had worked hard to make it successful, were gratified with the warm appreciation of their efforts ; and although, in some few in stances, regret at leaving the Island counteracted the pleasant anticipation of going home, most of the men were rejoicing in the prospect of meeting once more the dear ones from whom they had been separated for a year, and had no need to assume cheerful faces for the occasion. All Doris s schoolmates were there, and they drew together, as they came on board, in a delighted little group, sure of sympathy from each other in their pleasure. All were pret tily and becomingly dressed, but Hilda, as the rest agreed, looked " simply queenly." She was dressed in soft, creamy lace, which, in the changing light, looked more like foam than any earthly texture ; a turquoise necklace, and a narrow coronet of turquoise beads, surrounded by tiny diamond sparks, were all her ornaments, save a bunch of blue flowers at her throat. Her abundant fair hair was arranged with severe simplicity, showing the fine outline of her head, and the unusual excitement of the evening had brought a faint rose-color to her usually pale cheeks. She was, unquestionably, the most beautiful woman present, but no consciousness of this showed in the fair, proud face. Her dancing-card could readily have been filled three times with the names of eager aspirants, before she had been half an hour on the ship; her party had arrived a few minutes be fore that which included Doris and Leonard, and when the latter at last succeeded in working his way to her through the ever-increasing throng of acquaintances and friends, it was only to find, to his intense chagrin, that she was engaged for every dance but one. There was nothing to be said ; his reason told him that, under the circumstances, she could not possibly have excused herself from accepting the various in- DORIS AND THEODORA. 151 vitations which filled her card, by stating that she was look ing every moment for her friend, Mr. Leonard Campbell, and that she must keep a few dances for him. He sup pressed the words of protest which rose to his lips, but something of all that was in his mind must have manifested itself in his face, for the delicate color in her cheeks was deepened a little when he gave her back the card and little gold pencil, having inscribed his name with unmistakable clearness after all the rest. " There is nothing like experience for giving one wisdom, Miss Hilda," he said, lightly; "shall I have the pleasure of meeting you at Mrs. Barrett s little dance, next Tues day?" "Yes, I hope to be there." she replied, "if mamma should not be unable to go ; she is easily tired, and I know, although she would not own it, that she is making a great effort in being here to-night." " She has such a cheerful face and voice," said Leonard, "that one can scarcely realize that she is ever anything but perfectly comfortable. I sincerely hope that she may be no worse for this exertion, both for her sake and my own. May I have the honor of dancing the first dance at Mrs. Barrett s with you ? " " If you remember to claim it before some one else asks for it yes!" said Hilda, laughing a little; "but the interval will be quite long enough to permit you to forget, and as for myself, I shall make a memorandum of it when I go home to-night." " That will be very kind ; and while you are doing so, will you add to your kindness by putting me down for the third and fifth also ? You see, I have had a memorable lesson to night on the vanity of human wishes, and I shall try to profit by it." She hesitated for an almost imperceptible moment, and 152 DORIS AND THEODORA. then said, in the light tone in which both had been speak ing: "How can you expect me to remember so much, in this- dazzling scene ? Be content if I recollect to put you down for the first and third dances. " One of her numerous partners came just then to claim her, and Leonard saw her no more, save at a distance, until the dance for which he had engaged her took place. He had been grumbling to himself for some time about the quiet, sisterly friendliness of her manner, but he liked still less the laughter and light raillery with which this evening she met the least approach to sentiment on his part. And he some how connected her present mood with the devoted attention of a remarkably handsome young Danish officer who be longed, as he remembered with much displeasure, not to the "King Christian," but to the "Thekla." This Lieutenant Jansen had brought a letter of introduction to Mrs. Ufling. He came of a wealthy Danish family, and had received a liberal education in Europe. He was tall and striking- looking, with a very pleasant voice and manner, and he openly singled out Hilda, from the time she came on board. Perhaps it was only a jealous fancy, but it seemed to Leonard that, while Hilda neither did nor said anything in the least degree forward or unladylike, she in nowise discouraged Lieutenant Jansen. The evening grew intolerably long and wearisome to him, and he was thankful when some of the older members of the company began to suggest that it was high time to return. There was much friendly leave-taking between the people of the Island and the officers of the "King Christian," but all the last words were at last said, thanks and good wishes and some few promises to write were interchanged, and the boats put off one little fleet for the shore, and the other for the vessel about to depart. As the officers reached the lat- DORIS AND THEODORA. 153 ter, there was a sudden blaze of light from every yard-arm of the ship, answered at once by similar illuminations on the "Thekla" and at the fort; blue lights, rockets, and Roman candles seemed to fill the air, making the bay almost as light as at noonday, but with a weird, elfland light, indescribably strange and beautiful. The illumination was kept up until the "King Christian" rounded the point and was lost to sight, leaving a memory behind her which would not soon fade from the minds of any of the spectators. Doris leaned back in the carriage, as they drove home from the landing through the first faint light of dawn, too happy, as well as too tired, to care to talk. The evening had been one of unmixed delight to her, and she was en deavoring to recall and fix in her memory every moment of it, from her first glimpse of the " Thekla," as they stood waiting for the boat, to the last of the "King Christian," when the fairy-lights vanished around the point. The popu larity she had enjoyed that evening had been of a more satisfying nature than that of Hilda s undoubted conquest. The sweet, bright look on Doris s face, better than any mere beauty of feature, had seemed to make a friendly atmosphere about her. The younger officers had sought her out, and, as they moved through the measured paces of the dance, had talked confidingly to her those who had just come, of their homesickness and lonely feeling among so many strange faces, and those who were about returning, of their joyful anticipations. Doris was learning the secret of happiness more and more, with each advancing day " a heart at leisure from itself." She had been quick to see, that even ing, where little unobtrusive words and acts would add to the pleasure of another; and it is surprising, when the sight is cleared in this direction, how much there is to see! It is a great mistake to imagine that anything is really small 154 DORIS AND THEODORA. " The pebble in the brooklet cast Has changed the course of many a river." A word, a look, has farther-reaching influence than most of us, in our short-sightedness, dream. Her chief object, now, in recalling all the impressions and events of the evening, was that she might give Antoinette a detailed account of it. She had fallen into a way of doing this, solely for her friend s benefit ; but the calm, sweet- natured comments which always followed her narratives, Were becoming more and more valuable to her. Many times she found perplexities solved and doubts answered, for in the invalid s secluded life, there was much time for quiet thought. Doris had no triumphs to recount, after her first ball. She had danced every dance, with the exception of the waltzes, but with a different partner each time, and nothing even approaching a flirtation had marked the even ing ; but her account of it to Antoinette was none the less joyous and glowing because of this. " I really feel as if I had been there, Doris," said the latter, as Doris ended her description with the disappearance of the " fairy-ship " ; " you ought to write it all down, just as you have told it to me, for I have noticed that the sharp edges of our recollections wear off very quickly, and it would be a pity for you to forget even a fragment of this." " I did write it down, this morning," said Doris. " One of Miss Anna s many valuable suggestions was, that we should keep very brief and matter-of-fact records of our days ; she said it was a good thing, from many points of view ; one often wishes to remember the exact date of an event, or the exact circumstances, and she said, beside, that it was a good training for the memory to recall at night every cir cumstance of the day, and I find already that I can remem ber with far less effort than was required at first. She cautioned us particularly against writing about our senti- DORIS AND THEODORA. 155 menfcs and feelings, or in the least as if we expected anybody but just ourselves ever to read it, either before or after our death, and we all agreed to print on the outside of the cover, <To be burnt unread. We bought seven plain, strongly- bound blank-books, and we make the record as short as possible. Mamma says it will be very pleasant reading, some day, for those of us who live to grow old, and I think it will." "How many things Miss Anna thought of!" said Antoi nette ; " it seemed to me that the busier she was, the faster her mind worked. I wish another school might have been found for her here I hated to have her go, and I had not seen half as much of her as you other girls had, either. I don t see how you could stand it." "We couldn t, very well," replied Doris, "but then, you see, we had to ! That makes a great difference about standing things, doesn t it, Toinette ? And I am glad, since she did go, that she is to have a chance at so many more girls than she had here you know she is to be Princi pal of a large boarding-school for girls in Philadelphia, and she will not be one of those stiff, dignified creatures who only walk about and generally supervise ; I know quite well that, before she has been there a month, she will be on inti mate terms with every girl of them who will let her be. I sometimes think that, if I only knew enough, I should like to teach it gives one such lovely chances to help a great many people." " You do know enough, and more than enough you are always underrating yourself," said Antoinette, affection ately, "and I think you would make a beautiful teacher, when you are a little older, only and she suddenly paused. " Only what ? " said Doris, laughing. "Go on, Toinette ; don t be afraid, you will not hurt my feelings!" 156 DORIS AND THEODORA. "I was not going to say anything very bad, dear; but I could not help thinking that it would go hard with you, because you throw yourself into everything with such force, and sympathize so deeply, and often fancy people are suffer ing as you would suffer under similar circumstances, when probably they are not at all." "I know mamma said something like that, just the other day; but although I am quite convinced that it is true in the abstract, I never can apply it in the concrete ! I would not say it to any one but mamma or you, but the night Theo was so terribly ill you know the time and I saw her all drawn up in that dreadful convulsion, with her dear little face working, my muscles twitched until I fell asleep, and I was almost sure I should have a convulsion, too. And when I heard about Glasgow, sharp shoots of pain went all over me." " I know and that is one reason why I never will let you see me when I am having a bad turn. If I could possibly help everybody s seeing me, I would, for it makes the suffer ing double to know I am inflicting pain on other people, but I do believe it would hurt poor mamma worse to be kept away from me, at those times, than it does to see me." " Of course it would ! And I have been thinking, lately, that it is a selfish and useless way to be sorry for people, and I mean to try to have more self-control. I sometimes wish I might have a little of Hilda s unrufflcable calmness. I never saw her look the least bit excited, before the evening of the ball, and even then it would not have been called excite ment in anybody else just a sort of flashing in her lovely blue eyes, and about as much pink on her cheeks as there is on the inside of the palest of the conch-shells. Oh, she did look too lovely for anything, Toincttc! I do wish you could have seen her." " I wish I could but I wish still more that I could have DORIS AND THEODORA. 157 seen you. I think I must give a tea-party, on one of my well days, and ask you all to come in your ball-dresses, that I may see how you looked ! " " What fun that would be ! Should you really like us to do it ? " " Of course I should ! But do you believe that the girls would be willing to take the trouble ? " " Why, Toinette, how can you doubt it? I will tell them about it, and then, whenever you feel well enough, you can just let us know in the morning, and we will come in the afternoon or evening, whichever you .like." The girls were enthusiastically willing, when Doris, as she had opportunity, spoke of the plan to them. They all loved Antoinette, and were glad of a chance to give her pleasure, and there was no great hardship in arraying themselves in the pretty and becoming garments in which they had spent an evening in fairy-land. But for some time after this visit of Doris s, Antoinette was much worse than usual, and before the plan could be carried out, startling events drove it from all their minds. It seemed to Doris that Leonard was less cheerful than usual, after the ball, and although he said nothing on the subject, she soon saw, or fancied she saw, the cause. Lieu tenant Jansen s attentions to Hilda became more and more marked, and Hilda certainly did not discourage them. "Do you know, Doris," said Leonard, one evening, after a boating-party, in which the seven, with a number of young cavaliers, had all participated, "do you know what Hilda made me think of this evening ? Undine. Has she really a soul under all that ice, I wonder?" " Indeed she has," said Doris, warmly, " and, Leonard I don t mean to say anything unkind, but does it not seem to you that we sometimes doubt whether other people have certain qualities, simply because we have not the power to DORIS AND THEODORA. call them forth ? There are very few people to whom Hilda reveals her real self she is the most intensely reserved woman I know but I can t bear to hear any one speak in that way about her, when I know, even from the little glimpses that I have caught, what she could be to some one able really to awaken her soul. You are not angry with me, dear?" "Angry with you? No, my dear little sister, but with myself, yes, and I am afraid with Hilda, and also with Lieutenant Jan sen. And I am not sorry, on some accounts, that my holiday is so nearly over." OHAPTEE X. THE planters were becoming more and more uneasy and alarmed by signs of disaffection among the slaves, and appeals had recently been made to the Danish Government, which, in turn, invited aid from several foreign powers, and the result was the quiet appearance, in the harbor, of war vessels from England, the United States, France, and Spain, bringing soldiers, to be in readiness in case of an uprising among the negroes. So many vessels were coming and going that this does not appear to have had any effect as a warn ing either upon the instigators of the rebellion or their tools ; but the precaution was taken none too soon. It was the night before Leonard s departure, and, as the moon was nearly full and the weather beautiful, a boating- party in the harbor had been hastily arranged. It would have been impossible to fix a time for it beforehand, for it was during the hurricane season ; and although the violent winds blow intermittently, they are to be expected at any time, and all out-door engagements must be more or less subject to them. Hilda, Jane, and Clara had been collected, and with Doris, and Leonard as skipper, comfortably filled the pretty little sail-boat, of which Leonard had been offered the use that summer. It belonged to a merchant-vessel, and the captain, who made semi-annual trips to the West Indies, was always hospitably entertained at Mr. Campbell s house. There was a light wind, and the water was still quite rough from the recent gale, but they were all good sailors, and the moonlight was so radiantly clear that they lingered longer than any one of them imagined. It so hap- 1GO DORIS AND THEODORA. pened that no one carried a watch, and it was impossible for them to make any accurate guess at the hour when all were reluctant to return. They had promised, on account of the uncertainty of the weather, to keep near shore, but, by skill ful tacking, Leonard managed to take tolerably long nights before putting the boat about. They sang a good deal of the time, and Leonard s choice of songs showed very plainly, to Doris at least, the direction of his thoughts. But if they revealed it to Hilda as well, she was certainly an admirable actress, for her fair, pale cheek remained unflushed, and her full, deep voice rang out without a tremor. Leonard was vexed with himself for the disturbance this caused him. He had indulged in an unacknowledged hope that his "ice maiden " would show some little sign of relenting on this his last evening for nearly a year, and would give him some little word or look to treasure through the long months of his absence. With the proverbial unreasonableness of people in his state of mind, or rather heart, he ignored the fact that he had given Hilda no reason to treat him with anything but friendship. To a woman such as she was, only the most explicit avowal of love could have secured an admission such as he longed for; "sighs and looks" would meet with no response, or rather, the response they would call forth would be anything but encouraging in its nature. So Leonard sang with unusual expression, and Hilda looked quietly off over the silvery waters and sang with unusual correctness and vigor, and Doris watched them both, divided between equally strong desires to laugh and to cry. It was Jane Barrett who at last suggested that, judging from the distance the moon had traveled since they came out, it must be time for them to think of returning. The others reluctantly admitted the force of the argument, and Leonard once more put the boat about. As he did so, an DORIS AND THEODORA. 161 exclamation of surprise burst from all their lips. They had been looking away from the Island for some time, but now their gaze was once more turned toward it, and they saw that the sky behind it was reddened as if with a fiery sunset. Leonard also saw, although the others did not, that all the war vessels had drawn nearer to the shore, and that small boats were flying through the water with furious haste, while a fire, evidently kindled as a beacon, blazed upon the wharf. He spread the sail to catch every breath of wind, and no one spoke as they sped across the silvery expanse, for all saw that one of the points from which the flame and smoke were rising was in the direction of the Campbell plantation. Doris clasped her hands, silent with terror and apprehen sion. She could frame no words, but her heart was one agonizing prayer for the safety of her parents and sister. She felt a faint hope that it was earlier than they had imag ined, and that her mother and father and Theo might not have returned from the long drive upon which they had started just as the boating party started for the wharf. But even then, would any one part of the Island be safer than another ? She feared not ; for, as they neared the wharf, columns of flame sprang up in two fresh directions, they heard hoarse shouting, and presently a discharge of mus ketry. Then there was silence, so far as the voices were concerned, but a sound of tramping feet, and presently an other discharge of the muskets. Still no one in the boat spoke, but all the faces, though very pale, were full of courage and resolution. Doris alone felt any doubt as to the cause of what they heard and saw. She had been more shut in than any of the others from the disturbing rumors with which the air had lately been rife. Her mother and father, made sanguine by the devotion of their own people, had hoped that the disaffection among the slaves might be 162 DORIS AND THEODORA. quelled without any open rupture, and had been careful to avoid all allusion to the subject save when they were entirely alone. In this way, Doris had been completely hindered from forming any adequate idea of the real condition of affairs, and she had a confused apprehension, amid these dreadful sights and sounds, that some foreign power must have attacked the Island. The Barretts plantation adjoined that of Mr. Campbell on one side, Mrs. Ufling s on the other; so, as Leonard moored the boat and rattled down the sail, they all started in the same direction. Several times, on the way, they met groups of negroes, with frightened faces, running so rapidly toward the harbor that it was impossible to make them stop and give information ; so they heard nothing until a turn in the road brought all three plantations wholly or partially in view. Then their worst fears were confirmed ; flames were still rising from the buildings on each one. They reached Mr. Campbell s first. It was completely deserted ; the " great house" was a black and smoking heap of ruins, while all the houses in the quarters, as well as those employed in sugar- making, were either burned or burning. While the girls and Leonard stood gazing in consternation too great for words, a man, whom they at first took for a negro, hurried toward them, exclaiming " Oh, thank God for this ! I can bear the rest, now that you are safe ! " It was Mr. Barrett, but his face was so blackened by smoke and powder that only his voice made them recognize him. Hilda turned to him, striving to speak, and although her voice refused to obey her will, he understood at once, and replied to the agonized look upon her face. " Your mother is safe with us, dear Hilda; but oh ! Leon ard, where are your aunt and uncle ? We can find them DORIS AND THEODORA. 163 nowhere, and cannot even find any one who has seen them!" A stifled shriek burst from Doris, and for a moment she wavered as if she would fall. Leonard threw his arm about her, but she recovered herself, and said faintly " I am not going to give way. Where did you look, Mr. Barrett ? " "At all the near plantations where the soldiers arrived in time to save the buildings, my dear," replied Mr. Barrett, sadly; "but the last that I could hear of them was that the carriage was seen to turn in at the gate here, just as the riot began, and their house was the second one fired. I have been to see all the blacks that have been captured, and a few of yours were among them, but they all assured me piteously that they only joined the rioters because of awful threats from the ringleaders, and that, although they marched and shouted with them, they neither set fire to any of the build ings nor inflicted injury on any one. But one of them asked to speak with me privately; and he asserted, and stuck to it, that Cud joe led the others into the house, and was more violent than any of them, and that, when he was last seen, he was running away with the baby, frantically followed by your mother and father. Then, the man said, your house was immediately sacked and set fire to." The look of terror on Doris s face changed to one of glad relief. "Oh, I know what Cudjoe has done !" she cried, joyfully. " He knew that would be the only way to get papa and mamma and Theo off safely, and he has hidden them some where. I know it! I know it! Oh, Leonard, don t you see?" " I believe you are right, Doris," replied Leonard, excit edly. "Cudjoe is a thoroughly good, faithful fellow; and I suppose he saw that it would do no earthly good to try to 164 DORIS AND THEODORA. make those wretches listen to him, so he took that way. I think we had better wait here a little, for I am pretty sure he will come back to find us or rather, I will wait, and you must go with Mr. Barrett. You don t think, do you, sir, that there is any danger that the negroes who escaped will rally and make a second attack to-night ? " "Not the least," said Mr. Barrett. "The ringleaders, including the men from the other islands who set the whole thing going, have all been captured, and the negroes who are still at large will be too frightened and demoralized to try it again. Besides, don t you see that it is almost day light ? It was like the cowards to make their attack in the dark, and when they thought every one would be asleep. They came nearer to succeeding than they know." "But was it really our own people?" asked Doris, sorrow fully. " It seems too dreadful to think of. I thought they all loved us so!" "A great many of them did, and do," answered Mr. Barrett. "As I said, it was those fellows from the other islands who stirred the whole thing up, purely, as I believe, from a hope of plunder, and if we had not been somewhat prepared for them, the whole Island would have been sacked, and not a house left standing or a white person living." The girls shuddered at the picture conjured up by these words, and then Doris yielded reluctantly to the persuasion of all the others, and turned from the ruins of her loved and beautiful home to go with Mr. Barrett to Mrs. San ton s plantation. This was at some distance from the town where the rioters had met and begun their work of destruction ; and, owing to the prompt action of citizens and soldiers, was, with all the more distant plantations, unharmed. There was an arbor in the garden, thickly covered with running vines. It stood quite apart from all the other buildings, and so had escaped destruction. As they were DORIS AND THEODORA. 165 passing this Doris stopped suddenly, exclaiming, in startled tones " There is some one in the arbor I I am sure I heard a groan ! " " Never mind if you did," said Mr. Barrett. " I suppose it is one of the miscreants who helped in the attack, and hid himself there rather than be taken prisoner. I will find one or two soldiers, and come back for him when I have seen you girls safely at Mrs. Santon s." " But, whoever it is, he must be suffering dreadfully," said Doris, as another and louder groan was heard. " Dear Mr. Barrett, perhaps it is one of our own people ; please let us stop and see," and she made a step toward the arbor, but Leonard held her back, saying " Wait, dear, and I will see who it is, and if help is needed, while Mr. Barrett stands guard over you ; " and he ran quickly up the steps and paused at the entrance to strike a light, for the moon had gone down and the daylight was still very faint. As soon as he had succeeded in striking a light, and had stepped within the arbor, they heard him call excitedly " Doris ! Doris ! Come quickly it is Cudjoe ! " Doris was beside him in a moment, and by the light of a dry twig which he was burning, she saw poor Cudjoe stretched upon the floor, evidently in great pain, and con scious only of that. Mr. Barrett and the girls had followed her, and the former took a flask from his pocket and forced a few drops of brandy between the poor boy s ashy lips, while Doris, pouring a little in her hand, chafed his palms and temples. There was no blood upon his clothes, but it was plain, from the drawn and haggard look of his face, that he had been suffering terribly. The brandy restored him to consciousness, and Doris, who was bending over him, saw a look of joyful recognition as he caught sight of her. 166 DORIS AND THEODORA. " Missy," lie said, feebly, " my dear little Missy, you are safe. Is Mass Leonard here?" " Here I am, my poor fellow," said Leonard, taking liis cold hand, "and I know you can tell me where aunt and uncle and the baby are. We will take good care of you." " They s all safe, Mass Leonard," said Cudjoe, reviving more and more as he spoke. " They s in the old sugar- house, where the young ladies had school, but they s hid up behine some lumber; and I asked them to not speak till they heard Missy or you or me. I was fraid some of the wicked niggers would tice them out to do them a mis chief." Doris bent down and kissed the black boy s forehead, while her tears fell on his face. His honest eyes, beaming with faithful love, looked up at her with an expression which she never forgot. " I knew Missy d be glad, but I never thought she d kiss a poor, ugly, black boy like me," he said, simply. " You sec, Missy, and Mass Leonard, I knew there was no use to talk to them wicked men, so I whispered one or two of our boys what I meant to do, and told them to whisper the rest as they had a chance, and as soon as they d broke into the great house I gave a big howl, and caught up little Missy, and screeched out that I d got the thing our white folks cared the most for; and then, while they all whooped over it, I told Mist ess how it was, and she told Mas r, and then I ran, but not so fast they couldn t keep close behine me, and they ran after me, calling to me to give back the baby ; and I brought them to where I had it all fixed in the sugar-house, and hid them safe till I ran to call the soldiers. I did hope I could get help in time to save the great house anyhow; but they were mad with rum, and there was no holding them back, though I know our boys tried their best, so all I saved was the silver and some of the clothes. I gathered them up as DORIS AND THEODORA. 1G7 soon as you all were out of the house, early in the evening. You believe I did my best, Miss Doris ? " "Indeed I do, dear Cudjoe," said Doris, warmly, "but " and she hesitated, fearing to hurt his feelings, "if you knew of it beforehand, why did you not warn us ? " His eyes grew large with fright, and he peered anxiously about him, as he whispered " Missy, I didn t dare! You don t know all they said. I would have risked it, if it had only been me, but they said they d witch every one of us, the women and little children worst of all, and then kill the 0-be-ah man, so that nobody could set us free, and we were so scared, we all had to pre tend we d do just what they said. They couldn t have held us any other way." This was a complete revelation to Doris and Leonard. They knew about the superstition to which Cudjoe referred, for it was prevalent among nearly all the negroes, and care ful as Mrs. Campbell had been, she was unable to prevent them from hearing of it; it was the belief in the power which an evil-disposed person could secretly exercise over his victim by means of strange charms and incantations, and which could only be removed by the 0-be-ah man, who, for money, would make prayers, burn gums and herbs, and give medicines, thereby breaking the evil spell. But Glasgow had been entirely superior to this and all the current super stitions, and Doris and Leonard had always believed his children- to be equally enlightened, although they had once or twice seen reason to think that Hagar secretly shared in them. It was evident, now, that Cudjoe had been com pletely und?r this evil influence, and they felt no surprise that fear had kept him silent, for they had seen too many instances of the unreasoning terror which could be inspired among the negroes by any of their fellows who chose to re sort to devices of this sort. 168 DORIS AND THEODORA. Doris questioned Cudjoe no farther, then, but she resolved, very earnestly, to conquer this dreadful superstition, both in him and Pareen. With the older negroes, as she knew only too well, it would be useless to make the attempt, but she reproached herself deeply for having neglected to investigate the subject when she had so good an opportunity, with the younger ones. Mr. Barrett and Leonard were greatly puzzled as to what they had better do. In spite of the former s assurance to the contrary, he still felt uneasy, and somewhat fearful that a second attack might be attempted, and he did not feel willing to leave the girls alone with Cudjoe, or even with Leonard to protect them, while he went for help, or to allow Leonard to go alone to the town, or to the nearest plantation which was not deserted. It was evident that Cudjoe must be very carefully moved, and even then the risk might bo great, and it would be better not to have the girls present when the attempt should be made. While they were dis cussing the subject, they heard steps and voices at a short dis tance, and Leonard, going a little way up the path, saw that several English soldiers were surveying the ruin, making in dignant comments as they saw how total it was, for Mr. Campbell was widely known, and very highly respected. A call from Leonard brought them quickly to the arbor, and three of them agreed to stay and watch with Cudjoe, and protect him, if necessary, while a fourth went to the town for help, and to start an inquiry for Doctor Svensen, being instructed to bring the doctor with him to superintend Cudjoe s removal, if possible, and, if this could not be done, to leave a message which would send him to Mrs. San ton s plantation, whither Cudjoe was to be taken as soon as a litter could be improvised, and the messenger return to lend his help in carrying it. When this was arranged, Doris and Leonard bade Cudjoe good-bye for the present, and started DORIS AND THEODORA. 169 at once for the school-house, while Mr. Barrett went with Hilda, Jane and Clara to Mrs. Santon s. The excitement had been so great, that no one had thought to inquire just how Cudjoe received his hurt, and it was not until they were all assembled at Mrs. Santon s that they heard this part of his story. He told it reluctantly, and evidently without any conception of the true nobility of character which he had displayed. It seemed that, when he returned from secreting his master s family, and endeavored to farther mislead the men whom he so feared, by a show of wild and boisterous lawlessness, one of the latter, less drunk than the rest, suspected him, and calling a group of his con federates, questioned him closely as to the fate of the baby and its father and mother. But to all their questions he gave the same unvarying answer, with dogged firmness and sullenness: " The white folks got away, and hid somewhars, and I came back here to see the rest of the fun." In vain, now, they threatened to invoke all the powers of witches and devils against him ; it did not occur to them to include his family in their threats, and so he stood firm, deliberately electing, as he thought, torments which he feared far more than death, rather than betray the loved master and mistress, and the helpless baby who had so often smiled and stretched out tiny arms at sight of him. When they found that their former mode of threatening had no longer any power to frighten him, or at least to coerce him through his fright, they proceeded to try the effect of imme diate and physical torment. But there were many loyal negroes, and not a few of his own warm friends, in that howling, surging crowd, and he was rescued by strategy, and the timely arrival of a squad of soldiers. One of the ringleaders, wild with drink, and utterly reck less of anything save the plunder of which he was in search, 8 170 DORIS AND THEODORA. had just returned from setting fire to the "great house," after a final and, of course, fruitless search for money and plate, and the idea penetrated his fuddled brain that Cudjoe had hidden the valuables, as well as the family. " Whar s a rope?" the man in question shouted; "put it round his neck, and if he don t begin to tell whar he s done hid de silber and gole, string him up ter dis tree ! " It was now that Cudjoe s friend, Congo, saw and seized his opportunity. " Dat s so," he yelled. " Hang up de traitor ; but look yere, you boys ; gib him good scare fus , den, maybe, he tell. Fix him dis-a-way " and bustling forward with appar ently savage eagerness, Congo took the rope which one of the men had produced, and, fastening it conspicuously round Cudjoe s neck, dexterously twined it under his arms in such a way that the twist about his neck should support none of his weight. Then, climbing a tall tree, Congo flung the other end of the rope over a bough, and down to the eager hands below, shouting : "Now, boys, h ist him up, and when he gits up yere, I ll ask him whar de tings is, and you see f he don t tell ! " They were too drunk to see the absurdity of this plan, and pulled away so vigorously that Cudjoe shot up into the air with startling rapidity, and but for his friend s precau tion, must surely have been strangled before he reached the bough. As it was, the rope cut him painfully, and he could scarcely repress a groan. His would-be executioners had pulled the rope tight, and were about to fasten it, when the tramp of many feet, and a cry from the outside of the crowd of "De soldiers is here, boys, run, run!" made them forget all but their own safety. Dropping the rope, without a thought or care for their victim, they ran, hotly pursued by the soldiers, who, in the darkness, had not seen the pros trate figure on the ground, nor the crouching one upon the DORIS AND THEODORA. 171 bough. Cudjoe was very large and heavy, closely resembling his father in his powerful frame and great strength ; one leg doubled under him, and was broken, and the fall completely stunned him. Congo, paralyzed with fear, waited nearly an hour before daring to creep cautiously down, and go to his friend s assistance. He was a much smaller and weaker man than Cudjoe, and it was only by almost superhuman exer tion that he succeeded in half-dragging, half-carrying the helpless and insensible man to the arbor where his friends soon after found him. Congo, after arranging the poor fel low on the floor, with a pillow of small boughs and leaves, started cautiously for the town, hoping that by this time it was once more in full possession of the whites, and that, upon telling his story, and surrendering himself, he could bring or send help to his friend. He was an honest, faith ful fellow, but much less intelligent and ready than Cudjoe, and when, as he crawled silently along under a hedge, three or four soldiers suddenly pounced upon and sternly ques tioned him, terror completely overcame him, and his con fused and hesitating replies to their questions naturally mis led them. They tied his hands, and conducted him by the nearest way to the lock-up ; and although on the road he re covered himself sufficiently to tell a tolerably straight story, they took it for granted that he had made the whole thing up, and sternly refused to release him. But his pitiful pleading that, even if they threw him into prison, they should go back and save his helpless friend, impressed them in spite of all their prejudices ; and, after they had seen him safely locked into a cell, they agreed to go back and see if his story had any truth in it, although they rather laughed at each other and themselves for doing so. These were the soldiers whom Leonard had heard and called ; and, upon receiving such abundant proof of the truth of Congo s story, they returned to the jail next day, and not only effected his 172 DORIS AND THEODORA. release, but made up between them a small sum of money, to atone to him for his unjust imprisonment. It will readily be imagined that Mr. and Mrs. Campbell and Doris owed more to Cudjoe than they could ever repay, but all the former s offers to their preserver of freedom and a handsome start in any business he might choose, seemed to give only a sort of wondering pain. " You don t really want me to go away and leave you all, Missy, do you ? " he asked, entreatingly, the first time he was alone with Doris, " The last thing father said to me was to be faithful, to the last drop of my blood, to Mass Campbell, and, indeed, I ve tried. I m afraid it s because he thinks I ought to have given warning, but if you d heard what they said ! I didn t mind about myself, or, anyway, I d have taken it, mind or no mind, but they said if we dared to breathe a word to any of the white folks, that they d kill the 0-be-ah man first of all, and then put a charm on every one of us, and they said they d put the worst on the women and children, and we d have to stand by, and see it, and find we couldn t raise a hand to help it. And I thought of my mother, and of little Pareen, so slim and pretty and bright, and I didn t dare open my lips; but I did all I could, without their finding out, and then, after all, the great house was burnt." Large tears rolled slowly down his cheeks as he spoke, and he stopped, shaken by sobs which he could not control. Doris took his hand in both her own, as she said ten derly : "Dear Cudjoe, do you think the house is anything at all, compared with our lives ? You did what you believed to be the very best you could, and nobody, not even the wisest and holiest man in the world, can do more than that. If you had not got mam ma and papa and dear little Theo off in that clever way, they must surely have been killed., for papa had not DORIS AND THEODORA. 173 even a pistol, and those people were just like fiends. No, you have behaved nobly, and you must not let yourself think anything else, and all papa wanted to do was to give you a chance to be happier and freer you shall not go a step, if you don t wish to, you may be very sure of that!" " Thank you, Missy, you were always good to me/ said Cudjoe, gratefully. Doris repeated what he had said to her father, and nothing more was said of his leaving them. As soon as he seemed really better, Doris cautiously approached the subject of the 0-be-ah. "I wish- you would tell me, Cudjoe," she said, "just what it was that you were afraid of, when those wretches threat ened you." Cudjoe glanced apprehensively into the darkening corners of the room, for the short tropical twilight was nearly over, and no light had as yet been brought in ; and, enlightened as he was in many ways, he had all the negro s childish fear of darkness. "Would Missy ask to have the candle lighted, please?" he said, uneasily; "I can t hardly see her face." When his request had been complied with, and Doris had repeated her question, he slowly and reluctantly answered : " You see, Missy, if they d killed the 0-be-ah man, then they could have put any bad charm they liked on us, and we couldn t have had it taken off, like we can now." " But what sort of charm ?" persisted Doris. "What hap pens to the person who is charmed ?" " Different things, Missy, cording to what the one that charms you tells the spirits ! Sometimes they only kill the pigs, and blight the crops, but sometimes Oh, Missy, please don t tell! Are you sure no one s listening? Mother always said," and he lowered his voice to an almost inaudible whisper " that a man that was jealous of father made the spirits roll that cask on him, and now she says they ve 174 DORIS AND THEODORA. charmed me, just as the captain said they would, and if I can t get the charm taken off, I ll die, and she s gone to the 0-be-ah man to-night, with all the money she has, to have it done. But Missy won t tell I told her ? I wouldn t, if any body else had asked me to, and didn t Missy hear that noise by the door, just then ?" He started up in bed, his eyes bright with fever and ter ror. Doris laid her hand on his arm, saying, soothingly : "It was only the wind moving the shutter, Cudjoe. Lie down again, and listen to me. All that they tell you about the spirits, is false. There are just two spirits that we have anything to do with the Holy Spirit of God, which puts good and beautiful thoughts into our hearts, and the evil spirit of the devil, which tempts us to disobey God, and do what we ought not. But the Holy Spirit is far, far stronger than the spirit of evil, and if we pray fervently, and trust to Him, we need not be afraid of anything at all, for even if wicked men kill our bodies, He will keep our souls to be happy forever with Him. Now shut your eyes, and try to sleep, and I will sing you the evening hymn before I go. Come, Pareen, come in and sing it with me." Pareen was sitting just outside the door, and she came in at Doris s bidding, and joined her rich voice to the clear notes of Doris s, and before the hymn was finished, Cudjoe was wrapped in peaceful sleep. OHAPTEE XI. IT seemed, at first, as if no very serious consequences would follow the rebellion. The ringleaders had all been captured and punished with the full severity of the law, and then it was deemed expedient by the Danish Gov ernment to proclaim freedom at once to all the slaves, for the seeds of discontent and rebellion had been so widely sown, that any measure short of this might have led to a fresh and more disastrous attempt by the negroes to gain the upper hand. The buildings had been destroyed upon a number of plan tations, and much damage done to the standing crops, but nearly all the planters had money in bank, or invested in England or Denmark ; beside this, payment for the last crops sold had, in some cases, arrived shortly after the crushing of the rebellion, so that, in nearly every instance, the sufferers by fire found it possible to begin rebuilding at once. Mr. Campbell erected a temporary home, barely large enough for their needs, on his estate, and a sort of barracks for the large number of slaves who preferred to remain in his employ, even after they were well assured of their free dom. The planters were further assisted in the work of re construction by the payment by Government, soon after the proclamation of freedom, of a fixed sum for each slave. The Government also fixed the price which the negroes were to ask for a day s labor, of a given number of hours, and they were made with no little difficulty to understand that they must look to themselves alone for their entire living ex penses houses, food, clothing, the care of the sick, both by 176 DORIS AND THEODORA. nurses and doctors, must all be provided now out of their daily wages, and these wages would not come without daily work. A few of the more industrious and intelligent negroes entered upon the new life with "spirit and understanding also ;" these were the ones who, in former times, had worked diligently and conscientiously for their masters, and so found time for work for themselves, when their daily tasks were finished. Many of them had enough money laid by to pur chase a small piece of ground, and build a rude house, and to such as these freedom was an unmixed blessing. But for one of this class there were numbers who were either idle and worthless, or who seemed to imagine that a living would be provided for them, should they fail to make it for themselves. These, in the first wild joy of their free dom, utterly refused to work, until driven to do so by actual want ; and it was some time before this was the case, for all had a sufficiency of clothing to last for several months, and nearly all a little hoard of money which provided them with part of their food, while they did riot hesitate to call upon their former masters and their more provident friends, to make up the deficiency. This sudden cessation of work among so large a proportion of the field and mill hands was of course most disastrous to the planters, and their losses in this way, added to those suffered at the hands of the rioters, served, in many instances, to cripple them for the following season. Leonard was full of grief and indignation at his uncle s loss, and could with difficulty be persuaded to return to the United States that year. He insisted that a year s postpone ment of his plans would do him no harm, and begged to be allowed to stay and do all in his power to help his uncle to get the estate once more into running order as speedily as possible. But to this proposal Mr. Campbell would not lis ten. He proposed, he said, to take Doris as his clerk and accountant for a few months, and to leave the young man DORIS AND THEODORA. 177 who had served him in that capacity free for the more active duties of superintending the erection of houses and the build ings needed for the sugar plantation. Dons was so greatly elated by her father s choice, and, in a short time, so fully occupied by her new duties, that she found little time to mourn over the loss of the many beautiful things which had helped to make her home attractive. The one loss for which, when she allowed herself to dwell upon it, she was really in consolable, was that of Dirck. He had disappeared on the night of the riot ; all the other horses, excepting the two which had drawn the carriage that evening, had likewise vanished ; one of these had been brought back by a friendly negro some days later, but Dirck had not returned. It was impossible for Leonard to sail upon the appointed day, for all his belongings, save what he had about him and the few things Cud joe had saved, had of course perished with those of the others. But another vessel was going in two weeks, and for this he made hurried preparation. In these days of ready-made everything, it is difficult to realize the number of stitches taken at home forty or fifty years ago, and, had it not been for Pareen s thorough training as a needle-woman and her faithful diligence, Leonard must have left home this time with a very insufficient ward robe. Doris, however, could not help being amused, not- withstanding her deep sympathy for him, by his utter indifference to such sublunary matters as shirts and stock ings, and he only roused himself to at least a show of inter est when he found that this indifference added to his aunt s weight of care. The shock to Mrs. Campbell s nervous sys tem had been very severe, and Doris noticed with ever- increasing anxiety, her mother s failing appetite, and the haggard look early in the morning which told of disturbed and often sleepless nights. There was a nervous terror, too, at any unusual sound, or the unexpectedly long absence of 178 DORIS AND THEODORA. those who were dear to her, so entirely unlike her former cheerful serenity, that it filled her husband and older daugh ter with a nameless fear and apprehension. There were times when, seemingly by a great effort, she rallied, and was almost as bright and cheerful as she had been before that night of horror and suspense ; but a reac tion always followed this effort, and she seemed to lose strength day by clay. Dr. Svensen was called, and prescribed a strong tonic, which for awhile seemed to do his patient much good, but it soon failed to take effect, and he told Mrs. Campbell frankly that a long sea voyage and a total change of scene would do far more for her than any prescrip tion which he could devise. Mr. Campbell urged her to take her two daughters and make a long visit to her mother in England, engaging to have the new house ready for them against their return, and to keep himself so busy in their absence that he would not have time to miss them ; but this she gently refused to do, and as firmly declined to allow him to trust his affairs to an agent long enough for him to escort her to England, and see her safely established at her mother s. She knew that his absence just at this crisis could not fail to have a disastrous effect upon his affairs, and for their children s sake more than their own, she refused to let him make the sacrifice, and run the risk involved. She would be better, she said, when the hurricane season should be over, and the weather settled once more. They were all encouraged by her active interest and participation in the preparations for Leonard s departure ; but when these were completed, she relapsed into the weakness and listlessness which had so alarmed them. The autumn and early winter passed quietly and unevent fully, in a calm that seemed all the greater for the storm that had preceded it. Doris gradually assumed her mother s duties about the house, or, rather, she quietly and cheerfully DORIS AND THEODORA. 179 took up the new and far more arduous ones which were neces sitated by their new mode of life. Their temporary home was small and inconvenient compared with the old one ; the furni ture and numberless small appliances of comfortable living were slow in arriving from England, whence they had been ordered, and a great deal of contriving was necessary to keep the family even tolerably comfortable. Added to this, was the total change of base concerning the servants. Although most of Mr. Campbell s house-servants had remained, and, as a general rule, were obedient and faithful, it was out of the question that they should not be somewhat influenced and changed by the storm that had swept over the Island, and by the talk which they constantly heard from many of the freed slaves. Hagar, Pareen, and Cudjoe remained perfectly loyal, and manifested their loyalty by such devoted and intelligent ser vice as largely atoned for the derelictions of the others. But Hagar was not strong, and was often ailing ; Cudjoe had not yet fully recovered from the effects of that terrible night, and Mr. Campbell was anxious to spare him in every possi ble way ; while Pareen was too young to be entirely depended upon. So that but for Doris s watchful and thoughtful care, many an annoying omission and commission would have added its weight to that which already pressed too heavily upon Mrs. Campbell. The burning of their home had been a far more cruel trial to her than to any of the others, and she could not bring herself to. feel any real interest in the building of the new one a nervous apprehension, seldom expressed, that the blacks would again resort to violence, made her feel a great longing to leave the Island for either England or America, but of this she said nothing to any one, for she knew only too well that her husband s absence from the estate just now would involve him in heavy loss, if not in actual ruin. But it went to Doris s heart to see how every unexpected or unusual sound startled and alarmed her 180 DORIS AND THEODORA. mother, how watchfully apprehensive Mrs. Campbell became if her husband or daughter were absent from her long or unaccountably, and with what lingering tenderness she kissed her children good-night, as if fearing that before another morning dawned, some terrible fate might sunder them from her forever. It was very hard sometimes for Doris to sustain her cheer fulness, but she found so soon that the slightest discourage ment or despondency on her part had so immediate an effect upon her mother, that she schooled herself to suppress, rather than conceal, all that would cast a gloomy shadow on her face. And now it was that, as it seemed to her, she began feebly to appreciate that Friend to whom all may at all times and in every place go. He was strong, aye, " mighty to save." To Him she might pour out her cares and fears, sure of instant attention and sympathy, and real and "pres ent help" not the short-lived and often ill-judged help which is all that we can give each other here, but the help given for eternity as well as time ; for this one thing she was learning, that, of ourselves, we know not what to ask, and that so the burden of every prayer should be, "Thy will, not mine, Lord, for Thou knowest." And a far more enduring cheerfulness was taking the place of the fitfully buoyant spirits of former days a cheer fulness which springs from the "hope that cannot be moved," and from that alone. To little Theo, life seemed as yet to hold nothing but joy. She had not in the least comprehended the terrors of the night of the revolt; although she was wide awake at the time, she had been fully convinced that Cudjoe was "play ing," and the hiding in the old sugar-house had seemed to her to be only part of the fun. She had fallen peacefully asleep soon after reaching this friendly shelter, and had not waked until the sun was shining, and the happy voices of DORIS AND THEODORA. 181 Doris and Leonard roused her. She had wondered for a day or two, after leaving Mrs. Santon s for the small house on her father s plantation, but had finally settled it in her small mind that they were paying another visit, and would " go home by-and-bye." She trotted round after Doris, "help ing " with such sweet and eager good-will, that Doris gladly bore the hindering which this help too often caused, and many times, as she did so, an old simile returned to her mind with fresh and comforting force if she, so faulty, and so immeasurably far from perfect, could thus take the will for the deed, could she doubt that the loving All-Father would do the same ? And she prayed with new fervor for the "ordering" of her "unruly will." Mr. Campbell, as well as his wife, had suffered in health from the great shock and after anxiety, and there was so much, now, to wear upon and annoy him in his daily life, that he began to look worn and old. He was some fifteen years older than his wife, but, until now, he had never seemed so. As day after day passed, and the condition of things upon the Island grew worse, instead of better, he began to be alarmed, not for his own future, but for that of his wife and children. Most of his money was invested in the plan tation, and in ventures in the United States. He was fitted for no other business, and felt that he was no longer young enough to embark upon anything new, and he unjustly re proached himself for not having turned his property into money, while that was possible, and taken his family to Eng land or the United States. Even a brief return of prosperity would enable him still to do this, and he eagerly watched for an opportunity to dispose of the estate, without ruinous loss, but it need scarcely be said that no such opportunity pre sented itself. Doris s piano had, of course, shared the fate of everything else in the house, and she had at first bitterly mourned its 182 DORIS AND THEODORA. loss, but now, when almost every moment of her time was so fully occupied, and when it was often necessary to keep the bouse as quiet as might be, on her mother s account, she felt almost glad that it was not there to tempt her. An toinette Santon, Grace and Sarah and Christine, had all begged her to make free use of their instruments until her father could import a new one for her, but they all lived at some distance, and when, occasionally, she had a spare afternoon, and could have practised with pleasure in her own home, she felt too weary to take the ride which must precede the practising, and so did not make the attempt. Her schoolmates bestowed a large amount of sym pathy upon her, on this subject, and were almost vexed that she seemed to need it so little. Her father had wished to order the new piano immediately after the loss of the old one, but she begged him to wait, with no other motive, at first, than the wish to postpone its arrival until the new house should be ready to receive it, and in a short time she was most thankful that any motive had enabled her to persuade him not to spend so large a sum, just then, for before the work of reconstruction was more than begun, the want of ready money began to be severely felt, and she resolved that, if she could so arrange it, the purchase should be indefinitely postponed. Her father soon saw the wisdom of this, and acceded to her wish, but with an added realization of the change in their circumstances. She saw but little, now, of any of her schoolmates, except ing Jane and Clara Barrett. Even to those among the planters who had suffered no loss by fire, the times were trying, and difficult to cope with, for all had felt to some degree the loss and vexation incurred by the difficulty of pro curing laborers immediately after the emancipation of the blacks. In almost every instance the house-servants had shown much affection and fidelity, but the field-hands, having DORIS AND THEODORA. 183 had less intercourse with their master s family, had been carried away by the possession of freedom, and the idea that they were utterly at liberty to do as they pleased. There was, it is true, a revulsion of feeling, and a partial return to reason among them, when a few had been made examples of for breaking the common law of the land, aud when many had suffered real distress, for want of food, clothes and lodging, but even after the new order of things was tolerably well established, and most of the negroes were in the employ of their former masters, there was a sense of insecurity which disheartened the planters, and many undertakings were abandoned, simply because it was impossible to count upon the necessary laboring force for carrying them out. Those who have lived long, and observed much, must very often have been struck by the manner in which our most ardent wishes are sometimes fulfilled; the story, or rather the tragedy, of the bracelets and shields has been repeated many times since its first enactment. When Christine Larson, two or three years before, had talked of her plans for energizing and reforming the management of her mother s plantation, she had in no wise taken into consideration the possibility of such a state of affairs as now prevailed upon the Island ; she had heartily approved the plan for emancipating the slaves, for her idea of it had been that everything would go on exactly as it had done before, excepting that, instead of the manifold duties which had fallen to the master or overseer of a plantation, there would be the simple payment of wages, " and there an end." But instead of being daunted by the reality, which differed so terribly from the vision, her spirit seemed to rise with every difficulty and discourage ment. She began by overseeing the overseer, but she speedily discovered so much in his conduct of affairs which was ob^ jectionable, not only to her, but to her mother, and every right- thinking person, that she persuaded Mrs. Larsen to dis- 184 DORIS AND THEODORA. miss him. Then, choosing a faithful house-servant as her first assistant, and asking advice whenever she was at a loss as to the best plan to be pursued, she began to make a daily round of the estate, and gradually to order such changes as seemed expedient. By Mr. Campbell s advice, she was careful not to undertake too much at once, and to avoid exciting opposition whenever she could do so. Before sun rise every morning, her trim little figure, clad in a plain riding-habit, might be seen, mounted on a stout pony, moving from point to point on the estate, and stopping wherever direction, advice, or encouragement were needed. Nearly all the negroes had returned, after taking a brief holiday, and, as Mrs. Larsen s plantation had been at some distance from the spot where the riot originated, and so had escaped all damage by fire, there was no loss save that caused by the temporary neglect of work. Most of Mrs. Larsen s friends were indignant with her for permitting Christine to carry out her "absurd whim," or, at the best, skeptical as to the result, and Christine herself had not expected any marked success the first year. But a force upon which she had not counted forwarded her plans more than a much more rational and logical one could have done. She had always been a great favorite among the negroes, from the time when, trotting about at her father s heels, she had coaxed him into giving them holidays whenever any of the " white folks " had a birthday; her small form and pretty face were regarded with great and loving admiration, and when it was once understood that she had actually assumed the command, second only to her mother, and that they were responsible to her, instead of to an overseer, a spirit of chivalrous devotion took possession of the more intelligent among them, and in this way influenced, more or less, all the rest ; her smiles and praises, freely given where and whenever they were deserved, were eagerly courted and sought for, and the earnest spirit DORIS AND THEODORA. 185 with which she entered into everything, to its smallest details, seemed to communicate itself to most of the people who served her. Those who had most openly doubted her ability for what she had undertaken, were compelled to admit, at the end of a few months, that she was succeeding. And she by no means gave her whole time to the management of the estate. She was naturally very systematic, and, after a few weeks of experimenting, she had arranged and condensed her work in such a manner that she was free to visit and entertain and to continue under her mother s supervision, those studies in which she felt most interest, for Mrs. Larsen was highly educated, and although her health was far from good, she made it quite evident that Christine had a right, by the law of heritage, to the dauntless and tireless energy which ac complished so much. To say that Mrs. Larsen was proud of Christine, would be describing her feelings altogether too mildly, and Christine herself did not fully know how much her mother s fond and loving admiration sustained her. Mrs. lifting and Hilda had decided that, rather than con tend with the difficulties inevitably connected with rebuild ing and reorganizing, they would take up their abode in a small house in the nearest town, owned by the former, and sell the plantation at the first even moderately good offer. Mrs. Ufling had enough money invested in England to keep them in comfort, though not the full and plenteous comfort of their former home, and within a week after the rebellion they had taken possession of the town house, and were fully occupied in making it habitable. The separation was a real grief both to Doris and Hilda, and for a while there was a very frequent and regular interchange of notes, but in the course of a few months, although their communication did not wholly cease, it occurred at longer and longer intervals, and Doris noticed, or fancied that she noticed, a constraint 186 DORIS AND THEODORA. and lack of warmth in all that Hilda wrote. She tried not to allow herself to be influenced by, this, and to convince her self that the change was solely in her own imagination, but somehow she did not succeed very well ; and although, on the few occasions when they met, they were cordial and affec tionate to each other, both had the unacknowledged feeling that they were drifting apart. With Jane Barrett, on the contrary, Doris was becoming more and more intimate. The similarity of their trouble had drawn them closer together, and it seemed to Doris that she was always discovering new depths of tenderness and strength under Jane s quiet, some times indifferent, manner. They were both strongly im pressed with the feeling that, unless affairs upon the Island should take some very unlooked-for and improbable turn, far worse was to come to the planters, financially speaking, than all that had happened yet. A few were prospering, and several plantations had recently been bought by strangers from the United States, who, with their newly-imported energy and knowledge of farming, had already wrought great improvement. But a number of planters were situ ated as Mr. Campbell and Mr. Barrett were, in such a posi tion that either going or staying seemed likely to prove disastrous ; and Doris and Jane had many a serious discus sion as to the few ways for making money which were open to women anywhere, but more particularly on the Island. "It s all very well to say that we could teach," observed Doris one day during one of these talks; "but I could count all the children who would, in the most remote probability, be sent to us, on the fingers of one hand, and that would make two and a half apiece, Jeanie ! So you see that is quite out of the question, and we may as well stop talking about it. And it is just as bad about your drawing and my music the few little scholars we could raise would not be worth the time it would take to teach them. But I do believe you DORIS AND THEODORA. 187 could sell some of your drawings, if you would only send them to England or the States. Why don t you just try the experiment, by way of satisfying your mind ?" " Because I can t persuade myself that they are worth it. But that is foolish. Nobody knows there who or what I am, and, at any rate, I should not put my name to my w r ork. I will try, Doris. But I am always hoping we can think of something that we might do together. It would be so much nicer and more encouraging than for each of us to work alone." Doris could not help laughing at Jane s serious manner and voice and air of anxiety. "My dear Jeanie," she said, " the necessity is not upon us yet, and it may be for years and it may be forever before it is. At any rate, while I see the philosophy of being pre pared for it, so far as we may, I can t see any at all in bor rowing trouble and anxiety on it. I have been thinking lately what a blessed thing it is that we can only have one day at a time, and that a night invariably comes between every two of them." "That does not sound at all like you, Doris," said Jane, looking at her earnestly. "I am afraid you are { borrowing on something else, if you are not upon the question of our future means of support." " I try not to," replied Doris, "but when I look at mam ma, and think of the change that has come over her since that dreadful night, and how powerless all we can do, or have done, is to arrest it " Her voice quivered, then suddenly stopped. " Dear Doris," said Jane, affectionately, " I hope your alarm is needless. I was thinking only to-day how much better Mrs. Campbell looked. She has been so pale, you know, and now she has such a pretty, soft color in her cheeks, and her eyes are bright, and altogether, if she were not quite 188 DORIS AND THEODORA. so thin, she would look as well as I ever saw her look- ing." But Doris shook her head. She had questioned Dr. Sven- sen about that "pretty, soft color," and he had reluctantly admitted that it was caused by fever. "I can t talk about it, Jeanie," she said; "it upsets me so that I am fit for nothing at all. I wanted to tell you when Leonard was last at home I was speaking to him about your drawing, and how I wished you would send some of your crayons those heads especially where they could be seen and appreciated, and he said in his last letter, that if I could persuade you to send a few to him, he thought he could have them hung at the spring exhibition he knows one or two of the hanging committee. I forgot to tell you the last time I saw you, and I have been reproaching myself ever since. I should have written you a note, if I had not expected you to come to-day." " How very kind Mr. Campbell is ! " said Jane, warmly. " He is never too much engrossed with his own affairs to help other people about theirs. But do you really and truly think I have anything worth sending, Doris ? I want you to say exactly what you think, dear. Just pretend that I am Hilda, and that you are criticising Jane Barrett s drawings." "Very well," said Doris, with mischief in her eyes, "that leaves me at liberty to say several things which would not be in good taste were I speaking to Jane Barrett. My dear Hilda, I think the greatest drawback to success with which Jane has to contend is her under-estimation of herself and her work. If she could be made wildly self-confident for a day, I am persuaded that she would do some surprising work, but I can see very often that a sudden doubt about her ability cripples the freedom of her hand. And yet, in spite of this, she has such a wonderful facility for catching the DORIS AND THEODORA. 189 likeness the true look botli of people and things, and her touch is so fine, her sense of beauty so great, that " Doris s remarks ended abruptly. Jane had started up, laughing and blushing, as soon as criticism turned to praise, and had made a vain effort to interrupt Doris. Failing in this, she had endeavored to suppress the rest with a hand laid lightly over Doris s mouth, but the latter was some what taller and stouter than Jane, and it was several mo ments before the application was successful. "You ask for a candid opinion," panted Doris, as they both dropped into chairs, "and then, when I begin to give it, you resort to violence to keep from hearing it! Very well, Miss Barrett, I shall know better the next time." <( But indeed, Doris, I thought you were only joking," said Jane, apologetically. " I couldn t believe you really meant all that, for I don t see how you possibly could mean it." "But I did mean every word of it, and a great deal more besides, which you lost by your unwarrantable vio lence ; and now, the only atonement I shall accept is a free exhibition of all your drawings, and permission to choose the three I like best and send them to Leonard by the very first opportunity. Come, Jeanie, be sensible ! " "I know you wished to add for once ; I can see it in your face. Well, then, I will I will bring you all I have done in the past year, and perhaps you can find one which you will consider worth sending, but I don t believe you will find three." " You will please leave that to me, my humble friend. How astonished you will be when the bank-notes and orders begin to roll in ! Perhaps you will be good enough then to found a free school for the negroes, and appoint me director of the musical department." "No; by that time you will be starring in the States, 190 DORIS AND THEODORA. and sending me newspapers with accounts of your triumphs in them. Shall you give piano recitals, or sing, or do both, at your concerts." " Oh, both, of course ! I shall be the Santa Cruz night ingale. But I really care so little for jewelry, that I will send it all to you for your lay figure, dear. What dreadful geese we are ! Suppose Miss Anna were to hear us talking such trash?" OHAPTEE XII. IT was not many days after this conversation that Jane brought her portfolio to Doris, saying that her resolu tion was ebbing with every day, and that, if she waited much longer, it would fail entirely, and all Doris s warm praise of the drawings, most of which she now saw for the first time, failed to convince the young artist of anything but her friend s loving partiality. It was really, Doris in sisted, very difficult to restrict her choice to three, when there were so many that deserved quite as well to be chosen as the ones which, after long deliberation, she finally selected^ Of these, one was a bit of rocky headland, with a mere sugges tion of a fierce and angry sea ; the other two were heads, and Doris had at once recognized one of these. It was a spirited likeness of Cudjoe s face, not in its everyday aspect, but with the look which it wore on that memorable night, when he lay gazing up at Doris, in the arbor. Tears sprang to her eyes as she studied it, and she had almost said that if Jeanie would keep it, she herself would buy it, as soon as she felt a little more free to indulge her wishes ; but she kept back the words, for two reasons she knew that Jane would at once insist upon giving her the drawing, and would take no denial, and it seemed to her, also, that this was the best of all, and that it would not be right to allow Jane to lose the chance of selling it, and profiting not only by the money it would bring, but also, as Doris in her young hopefulness was sure, the fame. The other head, or rather half-length, puzzled her. The features were very beautiful, but the forehead was so nearly 192 DORIS AND THEODORA. concealed by a peculiar head-dress, that the face had an animal look, utterly devoid of heart and intellect. A keen, cruel smile curved the mouth, and narrowed the eyes, which were rather small in proportion to the other features. The head was "bent slightly forward, with an eager look of watch ing something with intense enjoyment. Graceful draperies, caught on one shoulder with a small jeweled dagger, hid all the figure hut one round, firm arm, and strong but shapely hand, held straight out, with the thumb pointing down ward. Doris shuddered as she looked at it, exclaiming : " Oh Jeanie! How could you possibly do such a dreadful thing as this? You might just as well have gone on, and put in the arena, with the victor waiting for the verdict of the crowd, and the sea of cruel faces and hands with thumbs turned down. It s simply horrible. I don t see what pos sessed you to do it ! " Jane laughed at Doris s excitement, as she answered " I had a reason somebody without a great deal of sense had been trying to convince me that the world was retro grading; that crime and evil of all kinds were rapidly in creasing, and all that sort of nonsense which some people seem to mistake for cleverness and keenness of perception. It set me to thinking of all the darkness and cruel habita tions of those vaunted golden days, and of all the freely- permitted, and even openly-applauded horrors of which we can scarcely bear to read; and then, somehow, I fell to thinking of Antoinette, and how such a life and character as hers would have been doubly impossible, before Christianity made it triumphantly possible such a soul could not have grown from the soil of even the most cultured and civilized heathenism, and such a weak and helpless body would have been summarily dealt with. And this thing came into my head, and I drew it, but I did not dream that I had been able to make its meaning so clear that involuntary tribute DORIS AND THEODORA. 193 of genuine horror excited by it pleases me more than all the kind things you have said i on purpose, as we used to say in our early youth." " You little skeptic ! Will nothing convince you that you have at least a high order of talent, if not absolute genius ? But, Jeanie, you ought not to have left this by itself there should be a companion-head, with a soul in the eyes. This is only one side." " My dear, if you d ever tried to put a soul in the eyes, you d not speak of it in that light and casual manner! I did make the companion-head, but I was so utterly disgusted with it, that I have never showed it to anybody. It is about as much like my meaning, as a gingerbread boy is like your father, for instance!" "Oh, please let me see it, dear," coaxed Doris ; " you re no judge whatever of your own work I have abundant proof of that right before me and no doubt your ideal- head was an impossible vision, which no one short of a Michael Angelo could have put upon canvas. Come, where is it ?" " It is here," replied Jane, reluctantly opening an inner pocket of the portfolio as she spoke ; " but I only show it to you, Doris, to convince you of the truth of what I say." And she slowly drew forth a sheet of paper matching in size that upon which the other head was drawn, and handed it to Doris, watching the latter s face closely as she did so. For a full minute Doris looked at it without a word, while tears slowly filled her eyes. It was a woman s face, pale and sad, and the beautiful oval was outlined by the close white head-dress of a Romish nun, but the eyes, which were raised, were " homes of silent prayer," and filled with a dove-like expression of peace. The mouth was firmly closed, and Doris gazed long at the picture, trying to detect in what part of the face lay the veiled suggestion of a radiant smile, 9 194 DORIS AND THEODORA. but without succeeding in doing so ; the more she looked, the more it seemed like something hovering in the air. There was, too, a suggestion of listening both in face and attitude. " And you weren t satisfied with this ! " Doris at last ex claimed, almost with indignation. " I should just like to know, Jane Barrett, what you expected of yourself? Why, it s oh, it seems profane to call it beautiful, or lovely, or anything! And don t you see how much like Antoinette it is ? I ve seen her look almost exactly that way, after she s been more ill than usual. Did you do it on purpose, or just happen on it -the likeness, I mean, of course?" " Not exactly either. I asked her to pose for me, just once, and then I meant to put in the expression of a martyr s face, in a curious old woodcut of papa s, and I really thought I was doing it that way, until I had it done, and then it suddenly seemed to change itself into Antoinette, only not half so lovely, and by that time I was so discouraged for I can t tell you how many times I had rubbed out the face and tried again that I just put it away, and tried not to think any more about it." "And how does it look to you now?" inquired Doris, suddenly holding it in a favorable position for Jane s inspec : tion. She hesitated a moment, and then said with character istic frankness : " A great deal better than I thought it did. It almost seems to me now that with a few little touches " But Doris interrupted her eagerly with " Not another little touch ! You would be certain to spoil it. No, I will pack it with the others, and write Leonard that they are to be sold as a pair this, and that horrible Wretch and on no account to be separated." " But you only wanted three," remonstrated Jane. " Will you leave out Cudjoe, or the rocks ? " DORIS AND THEODORA. 195 "Neither," replied Doris. "It will cost no more to send four than to send three ; Cudjoe must go, and I want to send a specimen of both kinds of work. Say good-bye to them, Jeanie ; you ll never see them more, my dear." "Until they come limping back to say that nobody will have them," said Jane; but Doris severely forbade her to continue such levity, and proceeded to pack the four pic tures. In doing so, she stopped once more to look at "the Wretch," haunted by the elusive likeness in the face, but this time it eluded her no longer, and she suddenly ex claimed : " Oh Jeanie! I couldn t think of whom this reminded me so. You oughtn t Hilda never in the world " and she stopped, confused and troubled, while a deep flush covered Jane s face, and she said, deprecatingly: "I didn t suppose any one would see it, for I only saw it once, and then it was gone directly, but it fairly haunted me until I had painted it." "Oh Jeanie!" exclaimed Doris, still more shocked ; "you don t mean to say that anything you ever really saw in Hilda s face suggested this heathenish thing?" " I will tell you all about it, now," replied Jane, " or you will think it is worse than it really is. It was just after the rebellion, when the news came that the ringleaders were caught, and would be punished to the full extent of the law ; for half a second a look flashed into Hilda s face, exactly like this. I don t think anybody else saw it, for it was gone almost as it came, and she said nothing, then, or at any time, that corresponded with it. I have never been able to understand it, and perhaps that is the very reason why it has haunted me so, but I see now that I should not have used it in this way, and since you have seen it, I am afraid some one else will, so I think we had better not send 196 DORIS AND THEODORA. this one, Doris ; the other can go without it, if you like, and nobody will know it was one of a pair." "But the Wretch is such a splendid thing, Jeanie I really think that, artistically, it is the best thing you have done, and I don t believe anybody else will see the likeness, if one can call it that I am quite certain Leonard will not, and I can t think of anybody else in the States who knows Hilda, even by sight. I cannot explain to you exactly, but I feel as if I might have recognized the source of your in spiration when no one else would oh, yes, we shall be quite safe in sending it, I am sure we shall." Her tone of conviction overruled Jane s scruples, for the latter decidedly agreed with Doris in thinking this her best- finished work ; so the two pictures were duly labeled and packed, and sent with the other two. The result may as well be told here, although part of it was unknown to the girls for many months, and part neither they nor any one else but Leonard ever knew at all. Doris was mistaken in imagining that Leonard would not see the likeness. He was struck with it far more quickly, and of course much more painfully, than she had been, and his first feeling was one of indignation against Jane. Upon farther reflection, however, he accused himself of injustice, and resolved to believe, rather than believed, that it was wholly accidental, or else a freak of his own imagination. Upon one thing, however, he speedily decided the picture must be destroyed, to avert the possibility of a similar freak upon the part of some other imagination. He was strongly inclined to leave it at home, have its companion valued by a dealer, and pay an equal price for both ; but when he con sidered that he had promised to do his best to have whatever pictures Jane sent exhibited, it did not seem to him that he would be justified in doing this. There was still time, how ever, before the opening of the exhibition, to write to Santa DORIS AND THEODORA. 197 Cruz and receive an answer ; so, taking all the pictures, and a letter of introduction from a well-known artist, he repaired to a prominent dealer, and asked him to set a fair price upon the pair. Mr. Nixon examined them carefully, and then said: "The work is crude, and shows need of technical train ing, but there is a power here which would make the train ing highly worth while. Does the artist live hi New York or the vicinity ?" "No," replied Leonard, " her home is in Santa Cruz ; but I shall be happy to give you her address, if you can forward her interest in any way." " Her address ? I imagined this work was done by a man. I don t think I care for it just yet ; if she will put herself through a course of thorough training, I would like to see what she can do a year or two hence. And I am willing to take this pair. I have just discovered the idea, and it is rather striking do you see? They are marked * Before Christ and Anno Domini. That coldly-cruel face and downward-pointing thumb make one see the arena and the vast audience around it and the contrast with this saintly face is terribly strong. Yes, I shall feel safe in taking these I am sure they will sell, and perhaps secure other orders for the artist." "But this particular pair," said Leonard, with a little hesitation, "is already bespoken, although, if you really think they would induce orders, they can be left here as long as you think proper. I merely brought these two for the purpose of having them valued ; but the other two are for sale, and I shall be very glad, after the exhibition, if you will either buy them or exhibit them here. I brought the companion pictures, thinking you might possibly send an order to the artist on the strength of them, but I cannot leave them just now." 198 DORIS AND THEODORA. Mr. Nixon had been examining them as Leonard spoke, and he now laid them down, saying, with a little disappoint ment in his tones : " The negro s head is good ; the other is simply common place. I am sorry you can t let me have those others I have taken a fancy to them. If the other two don t happen to sell at the exhibition and far worse things occasionally do, I assure you I will take thorn at least to exhibit here for a few weeks, on the chance of the commission, or I may possibly buy them outright. It would be as well, perhaps, for you to ascertain whether the artist would prefer a com paratively small certainty to a large uncertainty." "I will do so with pleasure," replied Leonard; "and now will you kindly tell me what you would be willing to pay for the pair you fancy ? " Mr. Nixon considered for a few minutes. "They are undoubtedly very good," he said, "but then, as I remarked, they are crude and are only in black and white ; I wish she might have done them equally well in oils. Still, I should be willing to pay you fifty dollars apiece for them, on the chance of selling them at a small advance." "And you think their exhibition here would possibly re sult in orders to the artist ?" "Quite possibly. Anything with an idea in it always takes with my best class of customers. That was my reason for being willing to buy- them outright." "Very well; I will consult the artist, and let you know as soon as I have her decision." And that night a letter to Doris was written, containing the following message for Jane : " Please tell Jeanic that I thought all her pictures won derfully well done she has been so tremendously modest about her attainments, that I had no idea we were harboring such a genius among us. That little bit of coast really mado DORIS AND THEODORA. 199 me homesick. I could see the spot from which she took it so plainly. But the heads were, I suppose, the best from an artistic and commercial point of view, and they certainly are very fine. I don t see how anybody can catch and fix an expression, after only seeing it for a moment, as Jeanie has done with Cudjoe s face. It is exactly his look on that eventful night, when he so distinguished himself. And I am certain that the inspiration for that saintly face was drawn from poor Antoinette s sweet look of patience and peace. By the way, I have an offer of sixty dollars apiece for that pair that is, ten more for each than a dealer is willing to give. Some one wished to purchase them, and so I had them valued by Nixon ; he thinks also that if they could be hung at his rooms for a few weeks, they would very probably draw some orders but if Jeanie would prefer the certainty to the chance of fame and fortune above men tioned, and to the other chance of making them more widely known at the spring exhibition, will you ask her to kindly let me know at once, and I will conclude the bargain and send her the money." Leonard had at first been inclined to borrow the money which he could have done without any difficulty and re pay it by installments from his monthly allowance, but he had never yet incurred even so small a debt as this, and the idea was extremely unpleasant to him, so he cast about in his mind for some other way. He had jn his possession the few valuable articles of jewelry which had belonged to his mother, and a very fine watch that had been his father s, but he could not bring himself to part with either of these ; the watch was peculiarly dear to him from association, and he had always fancied Hilda wearing the jewels at some far- future day. But it suddenly occurred to him that he might pawn one of the rings, and redeem it by the same means 200 DORIS AND THEODORA. which would have served to repay a debt. This he did, ob taining without difficulty the sum he wished. He was so nearly sure that Jeanie would accept the offer, that he did this without waiting to hear from her, and it soothed his impatience a little ; but, after it was done, the waiting-time seemed long. He had put away the hated picture, resolved not to look at it again until the day arrived when he might lawfully destroy it ; but it seemed to exercise a sort of evil fascination upon him, and every evening, against his will, he took it out and studied it afresh, trying vainly to convince himself that he was the victim of a mor bid imagination. He became at last so sorely tempted to burn it, trusting that Jane s answer would justify him in having done so, that he locked it into an old desk, and gave the key to one of his friends, with the request that it should under no circumstances be returned before a certain date. He named a day by which he might reasonably hope to have heard Jane s decision. His classmate imagined that he had put away money which he did not wish to be tempted into spending, and faithfully fulfilled his trust altogether too faithfully, Leonard thought, for the longed-for letter arrived two or three days before the one fixed upon for the surren der of the key, and no persuasions could induce its keeper to give it up. So Leonard, with what patience he could muster, waited until he could lawfully claim it, and then, first kindling a little wood-fire in his grate, to be in readiness, rushed to the closet for the desk. It was not where he had put it, and, after a thorough search, he was forced to the conclusion that it was not in the closet at all. A day or two later he learned that the keeper of the lodging-house had been obliged to discharge her man-servant for drunkenness and dishonesty, and he had no farther doubt as to the fate of the desk. It had contained, beside the picture, a collec tion of foreign coins which he had made some years before, DORIS AND THEODORA. 201 and another collection of original verses which he had been equally unwilling either to exhibit or destroy. There was not an article in his possession which he would so have dis liked to lose in this mysterious and uncertain way, and he blamed himself bitterly for not having kept it in his trunk, or else locked the closet door. For weeks afterward, he never passed any sort of store- window where pictures were exposed for sale without an in voluntary glance of investigation; but as he continued to fail to find it, his apprehension at last in great measure wore itself out, and he succeeded in nearly forgetting the whole aifair. But not quite, although he never again saw or heard of the desk or its contents. In the meanwhile, Doris had been greatly elated with such an immediate fulfilment of at least part of her prophecy. Jane happened to be with her when Leonard s first letter arrived, and Doris wound up the message with a triumphant " There now, Miss Skeptic, what do you say to that ? " " That I am very much pleased, and still more surprised, and still more obliged to Mr. Campbell for all the trouble he is taking," replied Jane, "and that I shall certainly consider this magnificent bird in the hand worth all the possible, but improbable ones in the bush." "Then you think you had better let them go without sending them to the spring exhibition first?" inquired Doris doubtfully; adding, "I had set my heart upon having them, as much as possible, exhibited." "And, to tell the truth, T had set mine quite the other way," replied Jane; "as soon as they were fairly off, I was seized by a fresh attack of self-reproach, and fear that some body would see what you saw, and I mean to write Mr. Campbell that, unless the purchaser should particularly wish to have them exhibited, I much prefer that they should not be." 202 DORIS AND THEODORA. "But don t yon see," said Doris, triumphantly, "that what I saw has never crossed Leonard s mind at all ? You see what he says about Antoinette, so of course, if he had seen the other, he would have spoken about it at the same time." Doris gave, at least, ample proof of one thing by this logical deduction; it could only have been made by one "heart-whole, and fancy-free." But Jane remained firm, and if she could have seen the pleasure which her note gave Leonard, she would have felt amply rewarded for the re motely possible detriment to her fume and fortune ; and, although this pleasure was, as has been seen, short-lived, it changed to a feeling of relief that, since she had expressed a wish to the contrary, he was under no obligation to exhibit the pictures, and that so it was unnecessary for him to ac count to her for his inability to do so. He did feel a little doubtful as to whether or not he should tell her of the dis appearance of " the Wretch," as Doris persisted in calling it, and he resolved, upon his return home, to tell Doris, at least, the whole affair, and see what she thought the best course to pursue, although he disliked extremely the idea of putting into words his feeling about the picture. He promptly forwarded the price agreed upon to Jane, who, after several consultations with her mother and Doris, decided to take this, the first money of her own earning, as the beginning of a fund for a year s tuition in "the States." Doris had read her the dealer s remarks and criticisms, as quoted by Leonard, and she was fully aware of their justice ; there was no one on the Island qualified to instruct her far ther, and she saw that, to make her talent really available, much more instruction was needed. She and Doris had not yet been able to settle upon any thing which the latter could do, in case the need arose for her to do something. She was becoming, under her mother s DORIS AND THEODORA. 203 gentle instruction, an expert and thorough housekeeper, and she used laughingly to conclude the discussion by saying that she would offer herself in this capacity to some of the still rich families, who were much annoyed by the difficulty of securing good house-service, since the rebellion. "I would do it, too, if we really needed the money, Jeanie," she said one day, quite gravely ; "I would do any sort of honest work, sooner than be dependent upon any one upon whom I had no real claim. It always vexes me to see women sitting down and turning into helpless burdens, when they have no more right to do it than men have. And I do believe that, if they would only use a little common sense, they could always find something to do don t you ?" " I am not so sure of that," replied Jane, thoughtfully ; "just look how most of them are brought up why, Doris, half the girls we know, at least, don t think of such a thing as even putting on their own shoes and stockings! And what one thing do such people as that know enough about to do any good with ? " "But even those girls," persisted Doris, "are only lazy through circumstance and habit. Just look how they can work if they have a little stimulation, and a real motive. I think Miss Anna herself was surprised to find such an amount of undeveloped energy in even the laziest of her girls. And every one found that there was really some one thing that she could do very well. It seems to me, from the books I have read stories, I mean that the reason women don t succeed, is the dreadful one suggested by some cynical person, which made me so angry when I first read it they nearly all have an idea that they will be married some day, and so they do not put mind and interest into anything they undertake, but just pick it up as one does a bit of fancy- work, when they have nothing on hand that they like better." 204: DORIS AND THEODORA. "What a traitorous valuation of your sex!" said Jane, laughing; "I am afraid that statement is one of those fic tions founded on fact which have always been one of my pet abominations. Of course there are, I suppose, some women of this engaging nature, but I have faith to believe that most, if not all, of our friends and acquaintances would rise to the occasion, were adversity to overtake them, and find themselves possessed of abilities which would surprise even themselves. The fact that it has never occurred to some of them that they were capable of putting on their own shoes and stockings, proves nothing, to my mind, excepting the other fact, that it has never been suggested to them. Don t you remember that poem we like so much about the lightest of steps in the ronde being taken by the coolest and most intrepid heroes of the terrible days of the Fronde? " " Of course I do but it doesn t seem to me to apply. Your devotion to parallels is very great, Jeanie, but some times, I would humbly suggest, they don t exactly match. I can t explain why this particular one doesn t, and there s where you almost always get the better of me you can put your ideas into such well-chosen words that it is almost enough to convince one that the ideas must be well-chosen too ! It s too bad for you to have two talents. If you can t sell your pictures, yon can take to writing didactic essays for the leading periodicals. Just think how delightful it must be to have an audience of thousands, instead of one ! " " The very idea is paralyzing ! " and Jane gave a pre tended shudder. "No ; if I can t sell my pictures, or give drawing and painting lessons, I shall go to France for a month s instruction, and come back prepared to hire myself out as a French cook. I have a fine natural gift that way, and it seems rather a pity not to cultivate it." " That s just what mamma says about me. I ll tell you DORIS AND THEODORA. 205 what it is, Jeanie, we ll move to that part of the Island which suffered least from the rebellion, and open a fancy bakery and cook-shop! We can charge fancy prices, of course, for such very superior articles as we shall make, and you will see that we ll fairly coin money." "What a brilliant idea! We will have little chocolate and coffee tables, where people can sit and eat our cakes and things, and drink the most delicious chocolate and coffee. And we can make guava jelly; you know people who visit the Island always want some to take home with them. And we will sell maube ; we can put on our sign THE BEST OF MATTED, FRESH MADE EVERY DAY. People will flock to our portals; we shall be obliged to enlarge the house." " That will depend upon how large it is to begin with," said Doris, gravely, "and perhaps we shall only be able at first to have an open stall on a street corner in Frederick- stadt ; you know the people in stories who succeed always begin in some such way ! But do you know, Jeanie, that, without any joking at all, I believe money could really be made in that manner? Not the nonsense part about cakes and maube and a corner-stall, but putting up preserves for visitors to buy, and then, on a larger scale for grocers and on private orders from the States. There are so many things of that kind that strangers seem to like, and the materials would cost very little compared with what we could sell them for." "Yes, I think it could be done," said Jane, thoughtfully. {The outlay for a beginning would be very small; then the first receipts could be invested in larger quantities of fruit and sugar, and so on, until a large business had been worked up, with very slight risk in the original investment. And 206 DORIS AND THEODORA. really good preserves are almost as scarce and hard to find as really good pictures." "And much more widely appreciated/ said Doris, laugh ing; and so the talk ended for that time, but no one ever knows where a talk is really going to end, if anything, no matter how trifling, does end in this world, which one is often inclined to doubt. And Doris s mind often reverted to it as days passed and she saw the lines of care and anxiety deepening on her father s loved face. He was, as has been said, some, fifteen years older than his wife, and although vigorous -health and perfect contentment and happiness had heretofore in- great measure concealed this discrepancy in their ages, he was beginning now fully to look his age, and, as Doris could see only too plainly, to feel it too. Her intimate knowledge of his affairs did not tend to soothe her anxiety. The losses by the defection of the laborers proved far more heavy than had been anticipated at first, and the want of ready money was widely felt. And just then a rumor began to be circu lated that the company in which Mr. Campbell s house was insured had failed for a large amount. CHAPTEK XIII. Doris to Leonard. SANTA CRUZ, March 3d, 184-. " MY DEAR BROTHER : fclie promise, rashly made, and with no idea that I should ever be called upon to fulfill it, induces me to write what I am ahout to tell you, and I feel like apologizing beforehand for the pain which I know too well will be inflicted by my words ; but I know that neither preface nor apology will do any good, so I will keep my word as briefly as possible. You remember, of course, the ball on board the Thekla on the night on which the King Chris tian sailed, and I am afraid you remember, too, a certain handsome Danish lieutenant, named Jansen, who brought a letter of introduction to Mrs. Ufling, and was very attentive to Hilda all the evening. I thought at the time that she was only naturally pleased by his pleasure in her society, and that his special attention to her and to her mother was partly on account of the letter. I see now that I was quite mistaken, and I should, I imagine, have seen it far sooner had not Hilda and I been so much separated of late. As you know, Mrs. Ufling moved into Frederickstadt very soon after the rebellion, and I do not think I have met Hilda more than a dozen times since. But you must not blame her for this, for more than half the times we have met she has come here. Mamma seems so very feeble, and is so liable to sudden attacks of even greater weakness, that I have de clined all invitations of every kind this winter, and made but few voluntary visits, while Hilda, as was perfectly 208 DORIS AND THEODORA. natural under the circumstances, has had, I fancy, a rather gay time. She is so very beautiful that, even were she less well-informed and interesting than she is, her great popu larity would be nothing to be wondered at, and I have no doubt that she has received many more invitations than she has accepted. " It was one of the Lilienthals who told me, without a tli ought of mischief-making, and rather as if she supposed I already knew it, that Lieutenant Jansen s devotion had continued, and even increased, and that Hilda, while she gave him no open encouragement, certainly took no pains to discourage him. I made some non-committal reply and changed the subject as speedily as possible, but I resolved to risk Hilda s anger and ask her, the very first time that I had a good opportunity, if she knew how her name was being coupled with Lieutenant Jansen s, and if there were any real foundation for it. I had a chance before very long, for she drove out with her mother, and as mamma was feeling very weak that day, she saw Mrs. Ufling alone, while I stayed with Hilda. We talked for a little while about nothing in particular, as we have always done of late, and then I was afraid her mother would come back, and asked her rather suddenly if she would answer a question. She looked at me for a minute, perfectly silent, and then she said that it was quite unnecessary that she supposed I had been listening to gossip, and she could guess the nature of the question. She was fully aware, she said, that people were busying them selves about herself and Lieutenant Jansen, but that no amount of gossip should influence her decision one way or the other, or the length of time she saw fit to take in mak ing it. " Then he has asked you to marry him? I said; and she answered, just as coolly as if we were talking of dancing : DORIS AND THEODORA. 209 " He has; and I have asked him for three months in which to consider his proposal. One month of the three is already gone, but I have not yet decided. " But surely/ I said, if you loved him, you would have found it out before now not before he asked you, of course, but very soon afterward, I should think/ " I am not so sure of that, she said, with that cold little smile which used to make us call her the Ice Maiden when we were all at school together; I am not so impetuous as you are, Doris, you know. " Somehow this provoked me, as perhaps she thought it would, and I said, without stopping to think how it sounded : " Impetuosity is one thing, and honesty is another. It is well to call things by their right names, it seems to me. " Not always, she said, smiling at me in that exasperat ing way, instead of getting angry, as I fully expected she would ; it is sometimes embarrassing, my little Doris. You must consider that a girl s first offer always possesses a charm of its own, quite independent of the suitor, and I was always attracted by people who did not fear to face their fate, no matter how mistaken and wrong-headed they might be. I have no faith whatever in silent devotion in a man s silent devotion, at least ; it might be possible for a woman, if she were a very foolish one. " She looked so cold and mocking as she spoke, that I felt as if I must fly out of the room ; and yet, somehow, at the same time there was a sort of tremor in her voice and droop about her eyes, that made me feel as if, were it not so utterly improbable, she might be on the verge of crying ; and then, Leonard, a strange thing happened. As she finished speak ing, her eyes turned suddenly to that little portrait of you which hangs over the escritoire I hung it there, that I might always look at it while I wrote to you, and it is smil- 210 DORIS AND THEODORA. ing down at me now it was only for a second, she turned quite away instantly, and if I had not been looking so in tently at her I should never have seen it. Our eyes met, and the color flew into her face till she looked perfectly beauti ful ; but she sprang up, saying the room was insufferably warm, and went out on the stone piazza, and just then Mrs. Ufling came back, and they went away but to my utter as tonishment Hilda kissed me good-bye as she has not kissed me for months, and if it were not so absurd, I should be cer tain that there were tears in her eyes. "I cannot be sure that I have given you our exact words, but of their import I am very sure. And now, dear Leon ard, may I tell you what I think ? You always used to let me, when we talked together face to face, so I shall take it for granted that you do now. I don t pretend to say that Hilda loves you, but I think she was deeply piqued by your going away without telling her, what she must have seen, that you love her. And I think she is balancing between the good marriage, from a worldly point of view, and the long, almost hopeless engagement if she waits for you. There is so much about her character that is noble and beau tiful, that I almost feel as if you had done her an injustice in not speaking to her and leaving the decision with her, in stead of taking it wholly upon yourself. Now you may think to yourself, even if you do not say it to me, that I am talk- -ing of something on which I am not qualified to pass judg ment, for I have never been in love, and I can only conjecture as to how I should feel ; but I am very certain that, were I in Hilda s place, I should like it better to be engaged to you, even if I had to wait six or seven years, than to be left in this way, sure that you love her, and perhaps feeling that she could love you, had she the right to do so, and yet with no tie between you, and no obligation, on either side. She is terribly proud, and what I most fear is, that DORIS AND THEODORA. 211 even after that little glimpse of herself which she gave me the other day, she will have a sort of reaction, and be so dis gusted with herself, that she will almost decide to accept Lieutenant Jansen, just to prove that she has never really cared for you. And I only wish that it did not take so long for letters to come and go I should so rejoice if you were to receive this to-morrow, instead of two weeks from now. You must not think that I have in any way betrayed confi dence by telling you all this. Hilda did not so much as intimate that anything she said was not to be repeated. On the contrary, the more I think about it all, the more it seems to me that she had a sudden impulse to let you know in this way just how things stood, and give you a last chance. For I think it is the last. I feel nearly sure that if you do not speak now, her pride will be stung to the quick, and she will accept Lieutenant Jansen. Dear Leonard, can you not con fide in her nobility, and at least leave the decision with her? Am I meddling? I love you both so much that you must not call it that. Mamma and papa send fondest love. They long to see you again, and so does your loving sister, "Donis CAMPBELL. " P. S. I must add a line about Theo. She grows sweeter and brighter and funnier every day. You know she has never talked baby-talk, and the way in which she wrestles with the longest words she hears keeps us laughing half the time. She is very loving, and it troubles her greatly when mamma is worse. She follows me everywhere, and ( helps me a great deal. And she is so very, very pretty that I shall hide my diminished head the moment she comes out. Hilda keeps making studies of her, whenever she comes here, and I have secured the enclosed for you, by dint of persistent begging. It is very like, and it seems to me that Hilda has great talent; but, for some reason or other, her art does not 212 DORIS AND THEODORA. seem to interest her as it did at first. I think we all miss Miss Anna s influence I know I do. But then, I also miss my beloved piano. D." Doris was quite right in one part of her conjectures con cerning Hilda, but her generous and unworldly spirit made her do rather more than justice to the feelings and motives of her more sophisticated friend. Hilda s character had sen sibly deteriorated in the winter of thoughtless pleasure- seeking which she had spent in Frederickstadt, and her inde cision just now was not caused wholly by the pride which undoubtedly helped to influence her. She knew that, even should Leonard succeed remarkably well, it would be many years before he could place her in the social position offered her by Lieutenant Jansen, if, indeed, he were ever able to do so, and she began to doubt her ability to face a life of small economies and petty cares, even with the love of such a man as Leonard to counterbalance it. She had shone in the nar row circle of Frederickstadt society, and she felt very sure that she should shine in a much wider and more brilliant sphere. She had never taken the smallest interest in the conduct of the house, and was totally ignorant of everything connected with it ; and a vision of herself buying little din ners, superintending the cooking thereof, and directing one or two inefficient servants, instead of commanding a staff of trained ones, contrasted itself with another that of the brilliant career which probably awaited her, should she accept Lieutenant Jansen. Beside this, she had not quite forgiven Leonard for the firmness which enabled him to leave Santa Cruz without expressing his love for her in words. She would have regarded an impetuous and unconsidered declaration of it much more flattering than the self-control which he had exercised, and many times during the winter she plunged into every gaiety the town afforded, hoping thus DORIS AND THEODORA. 213 to forget him; but the weariness which always followed would once more turn her thoughts to him, and to his superiority to the young society-men who crowded about her. She could not account for the impulse, unusual in her calm and deliberate nature, which had made her so nearly betray herself to Doris, but she regretted it almost immedi ately ; and long before she reached home that day she would have given much to be able to efface all recollection of the visit, not only from Doris s memory, but from her own as well. She felt enraged with herself for having been so weak ; she might at least, she reflected, in parting with Doris, have charged her to regard their talk as confidential, and this she could yet do by writing a note. But when she tried to do this, she found it a difficult task. Would not Doris see at once through the whole thing ? That she, Hilda, had expected, or perhaps even wished at first that the conversation should be repeated to Leonard, and had afterward changed her mind? But then, on the other hand, Doris might suppose that it was solely on Hilda s and Lieutenant Jansen s account that the former wished to have nothing that had been said that day repeated. Encouraged by this idea, Hilda sat down and tried to write a satisfactory note, but she did not succeed. Word it as she would, it seemed to her to betray more than she wished to betray, and after five or six attempts she gave up in despair, and took a fresh resolve, which she hardly ac knowledged to herself. She would wait four weeks no, a month, an exact calendar month and if at the end of that time she had heard nothing from anybody which would suggest a different decision, she would accept Lieutenant Jansen. She managed, during this month of waiting, to preserve her usual calm and quiet demeanor, but it required more effort to do this than she liked to admit. 214 DORIS AND THEODORA. When she and Doris met again, no allusion was made to their last talk or to the subjects of it, but Doris noticed with keen pleasure that Hilda s manner had regained much of the friendliness of their school-girl days. It had never been demonstrative, and the girls had always said that a touch of the hand from Hilda meant more than a hug from any of the rest of them. Two weeks later, Mr. Campbell came in from his morning round of the plantation, looking warm and worried. " I don t at all see what is to be done/ he said, wearily ; " I can t get any more steady, systematic work out of those fellows than if they were so many children, and I shall not have more than half-crops, if I have that much. If I could just have secured our own people, and not taken any strangers in, I think it might have been different; but those fellows that I took to fill the places of the half-dozen who went to the States are making mischief all the time and stirring up the others to impudence and insubordination, and if I turn them off, the next will be just as bad. I wish I had waited to see my way a little more clearly, before I began on the new house. This is pretty bad, but it is free from debt, at least, and I am afraid I must mortgage the other, if I hops ever to see it finished." Doris was young, and the words " You know mamma and I begged you to wait, papa," rose to her lips, but the past few months had taught her many things, and she said, instead : "Here is your linen coat, papa dear; give me that hot thing to hang up, and then sit down and rest, you look so warm and tired, and mamma will wish to see you when she wakes." He took off the black alpaca coat, and as he did so a letter fell from the pocket ; Doris stooped to pick it up, and, as she did so, she saw Leonard s name, in her own handwriting. DORIS AND THEODORA. 215 For a moment she was puzzled ; then, with consternation in face and voice, she exclaimed : " Oh papa! It is my letter to Leonard, that I thought he had received by this time. How in the world her voice quivered, and ceased. It seemed to her that the disap pointment was more than she could bear. Mr. Campbell looked troubled, but also very much per plexed. "I can t tell what to make of this, at all, daughter," he said, slowly. " It has never crossed my mind to doubt that I sent that letter, and hand me the coat a moment, my dear," he added, speaking with sudden excitement. Doris gave it back to him, and he drew from the pocket whence her letter had fallen another, directed in his own clear busi ness hand. " I was afraid I should find this," he said, despondently, " as soon as I realized the truth about yours. Well, it can not be helped, now. And yet, I don t know a mail was being made up, this morning, to go out to-day; perhaps if I go at once I may still be in time. Give me your letter, Doris ; where is my hat ? " And he sprang up, forgetting his weariness, and the intense heat, for it was now nearly twelve o clock, and even in the carefully-closed house the air felt warm and oppressive. Oh papa, don t go ; it is too hot, and you know the vessel was to sail at ten ; please don t go ; you ll be ill. Mamma will be so troubled ! " And Doris clasped her hands coaxingly about his arm. For the first time in all her life he spoke harshly to her, shaking off her hands as he spoke. "Do not act in this childish manner, Doris," he said,; " the ships are often detained, and this letter must go, if it 216 DORIS AND THEODORA. is at all possible you don t know what you are talking about." "But, papa!" she implored, "let Cudjoe go; he is here in the next field; he will do just as you tell him; please, please ! " She had followed him to the door, for he made no pause in his hasty preparation, for all her pleading. Her eyes were filled with tears, but she was unconscious of this; her whole mind was bent upon detaining him, and she had no thought left for herself. He stooped and kissed her hastily. "Dear child," he said, kindly, "you don t understand; this was my answer to a very good offer for this year s sugar- cropmuch depends on getting it oif, and I dare not trust any one; go in out of the heat; good-bye." He kissed her again, and was gone before she could offer any farther remonstrance ; but she saw it would be quite use less to do so. She had heard him speak of this offer for the sugar-crop, and knew that he was building largely upon it to extricate him from his present difficulties, and she was doubly distressed it was so totally unlike him to forget to mail a letter so important as he had evidently considered this, and it seemed probable that, in spite of all effort now, it would be too late. But it was time to take in the late breakfast, or lunch, as we should call it, of which her mother ate so sadly little, and this was arranged with as loving and scrupulous care as if no grief nor anxiety were weighing her down. She would not allow herself to think about the letter to Leonard, just now that must wait ; and she decided to let herself believe, for the present, that her father would succeed in catching the mail, and that two weeks could make no important difference the three months were only half gone, and surely Hilda would not be hasty, in a decision so important as this. She was thinking, after all! And, DORIS AND THEODORA. with a resolute effort, she began to talk cheerfully to her mother, as she arranged the little table by her bedside. Visitors, who saw Mrs. Campbell at longer or shorter in tervals, spoke to each other of the change which Doris strove not to see. A gradual, but steady, weakening and fading, the laying aside, one after another, of interests and occupa tions, rather than any acute symptom, marked the progress of disease. Mr. Campbell and Doris spoke hopefully to each other, but in the heart of each was an unacknowledged fear. Little Theo, alone, of all the family, saw nothing but joy in her daily life. Whether sitting quietly by her mother s couch, stroking the thin hand, and telling of all the wonder ful discoveries which came with every day of unfolding life, or following her father about the plantation on Dirck, whom she fearlessly rode, almost before she could walk, or trotting from room to room, " helping" Doris, her face shone with happiness, and she trilled out fragments of Doris s songs, when she was quite sure of not " sturbing mamma," with a readiness at catching and keeping tunes which delighted her older sister. She little dreamed how often her ignorant joyousness raised the drooping hearts about her, or how the overflowing love of her heart comforted away doubt and care. Doris left her, now, sitting by her mother, while she her self, possessed by a strange restlessness and apprehension, went to the door to watch for her father s return. She had been standing there some time, and was calling herself foolish, and trying to reason down her vague apprehension, and had so far succeeded that she was about to turn away from the door, and attend to some of her housekeeping cares, when she saw Dr. Svensen s carriage turn in at the gate, and drive rapidly up the avenue. She felt no alarm at this, for his visits were frequent ; he could do little for Mrs. Camp bell, and he explained to Doris, in his best English, that at 10 218 DORIS AND THEODORA. least two-tliirds of the calls made by him were merely calls of friendship, such as anybody might make, and not in the least professional. But he noted every symptom, and every change in his patient, and, without mentioning it even to his daughter, he had written a minute description of the case, and a request for an opinion to a famous English specialist, and was anxiously waiting his reply. Doris noticed, as he alighted and hastily tied his horse, without waiting for her to call a servant, that his florid, good-natured face was unusually pale and grave. He came quickly up the step, and took both her slender hands in his large, strong ones. " My little Doris," he said, gently, " I will trust you to be brave, for the dear mother s sake. Your father is coming home ill ; he will be here presently. Will you go, quietly, and make ready a bed, as far as possible from the mother s room, and where he may be taken without noise ? " Doris tried to speak, but no words came ; she turned, and led the way into a room near the door, the doctor following her; she looked the question her lips tried to frame, and he answered as if she had spoken : " Yes, this will be very well indeed ; it is on the cool side of the house, it is neat, the bedstead is low. You will call Pareen to make ready the bed, and while she does so, I will tell you. My child sit down, I will tell Pareen my self." Doris sat down. She did not feel faint, but numbed and stunned, as if from a heavy blow ; she had been waiting long, it seemed to her, for this blow to fall, and now it had fallen, and she would be strong ; oh yes, presently she would get up, when that curious feeling should leave her knees, and she would speak, quite calmly and distinctly, when the string about her throat she raised her hand ; there was nothing there ; mechanically she stroked and rubbed the DORIS AND THEODORA. 219 spot where that strangling sensation was, and, when the doctor came back with Pareen, she stood np and spoke. " The cotton sheets, Pareen, not the linen ; those old, soft ones that mamma likes best you know where they are?" " Yes, Missy, I know Missy sit right still, I ll have it all right for Master he not be very sick he so strong, he be better soon Missy mustn t cry." " I am not going to cry," said Doris, quietly. " No, doc tor, you need not be afraid, I feel quite strong and well. Please tell me now I would rather know." "Your father ran through the hot streets, my child, only to find that the ship had sailed an hour before ; he went into a shop near the wharf, and drank much cold water, and then, as they told me afterward, for I was not there at the time, he appeared to faint, and they were unable wholly to recover him. Some one was sent for me, and I saw at once how it was. It was not fainting. A month ago he had a slight the slightest possible stroke of paralysis. He for bade me to tell you, but I must tell you now, for this, to day, is a second one, more severe. All of one side is para lyzed, but he suffers no pain, and by to-morrow he will be able to speak a little perhaps by to-night. I called in two or three of his friends, and left them to finish the prepara tions for his removal, that I might come first, and tell you ; I was afraid that, if I waited to come with him, the alarm might reach your dear mother ; now we can keep all things quiet, and she need know nothing till to-morrow morning, when, God willing, we shall have him much better. Can you be strong for a few hours, my dear ? " "I think so; I will try," said Doris steadily. "Hark! I believe they are coming now ; Pareen, go very softly, and close mamma s door ; then watch outside till papa is safely in, and open it again, that she may not notice." Doris went towards the front door as she spoke, and 220 DORIS AND 7^HEODORA. opened it wide, to admit the four negroes who bore the hastily improvised litter on which her father lay. Mr. Bar rett walked beside it, screening his face from the ardent rays of the sun ; but the other gentlemen who had assisted in the arrangements had decided to wait at a little distance, in case their farther help should be needed, rather than come to the house, for Dr. Svensen had enjoined the strictest quiet, and so well was his injunction obeyed, that even had Mrs. Campbell s door not been closed, she would scarcely have been disturbed by the soft footsteps and carefully low ered voices of the bearers. Doris had dreaded inexpressibly the first sight of her father s face, for her only knowledge of the effects of paralysis was derived from the case of a very old negro who had died on the estate many years before. She had never been able to forget the distorted features and rolling eyes of this poor old creature; indeed, time had ex aggerated, rather than weakened the impression made by the sad sight, and she feared to see, she scarcely knew what, so that the relief was very great when she found that the only changes in her father s face were a death-like pallor, and a slight drawing-down of one eye, and the corner of the mouth. He had regained consciousness, and as she stood by the bedside, after Dr. Svensen and Mr. Barrett had ar ranged him comfortably in bed, he looked wistfully at her, and, she was sure, tried to speak. "Papa," she said, in clear, low tones, "mamma does not know that you are ill, and we will not tell her all about it until to-morrow morning, when Dr. Svensen says you will be able to speak again. She is asleep now, I think, and when she wakes, I will give her your love, and tell her you have come home tired, and not feeling very well, and that you went to bed while she was still sleeping. Will that be as you wish ? Can you press my hand a little for yes ? " A feeble pressure from the hand that was not paralyzed DORIS AND THEODORA. 221 answered her, and a look of relief stole over the drawn face. She had divined his thought, and he made no farther effort to speak. Dr. Svensen gave his orders for the afternoon and evening, promising to call very early in the morning, and urging Doris to send for him in the night, if there should be any change. He would come again at bed-time, if lie could possibly manage it, he said, but there was a great deal of sickness just now, and he feared he could not finish his urgent calls in time. But he would be at home, certainly, by midnight, and at any time after that she could depend upon his coming promptly, should she send. He stooped and kissed her forehead as he said good-bye ; this very nearly brought the tears, but not quite ; she could not afford to cry yet. Dr. Svensen saw Cudjoe before he went, and told the boy to remain within call during the night. " I meant to," Master, he replied, simply ; " you don t think we d leave our little Missy, when Master is like that ? " " Indeed, I do not," said the doctor. " 1 wish all were as faithfl and grateful as you and Pareen are. Will you softly call your sister, so soon as I am gone, and tell her not to let Mrs. Campbell find out to-night how ill her husband is ? In the morning she will be stronger, and he, I trust, much better. With great care, he may live yet for many happy years ; and you, I know, will help to take the care." Cudjoe s black eyes shone with tears as he replied : " I will, Master, indeed I will. He was good to my father, and father s last word to me was to be true to our own white folks." The doctor rode reluctantly away, and Cudjoe hastened to give his message to Pareen. Mrs. Campbell, when she woke, was so feeble as to alarm the faithful girl, who dared not call Doris from her father s bedside, and she seemed much distressed upon being told that Mr. Camp bell was not well, but she was utterly unable to go to him, 222 DORIS AND THEODORA. and appeared to be better satisfied when told that Doris was with him. Pareen put Theo to bed, when the hour arrived, and the little girl, after asking once or twice for Doris, and being told that papa was ill, and she must be very quiet and good, allowed Pareen to undress her, and hear her say her evening prayer, adding a special petition for "papa and mamma and sister, because papa is ill, and mamma is worse, and I can t kiss sister good-night, to night!" Doris, finding that there was no change in her father s condition, called Pareen to take her place, and spent half an hour with her mother just before the latter was settled for the night, saying, in reply to Mrs. Campbell s questions, that her father was quite quiet, and would no doubt be better in the morning. She read her mother a chapter from the New Testament, as usual, and her voice was calm and steady. Then she said good-night, and returning to her father s room, arranged it for the night. She had had a busy morning, and she was dismayed to find her tyelids closing in spite of all her efforts to remain awake. She reproached herself with heartlessness, with want of fidelity to her trust, and was on the verge of hysterical tears, when Pareen s low voice called her into the passage. A little pot of hot, strong coffee, with some bread and fruit, was tempt ingly arranged upon a tray, and then Doris, suddenly remem bered that she had eaten neither lunch nor dinner. "Missy will eat and drink to keep herself strong," said Pareen, coaxingly, " and I will watch Master while she does it, and call if any change comes. Now, Missy will sit down here and not hurry, but drink plenty of this good coffee, and that will keep her awake, like it was broad day, all night, and to-morrow, when Master is better, she can sleep with good heart." " Oh, thank you, Pareen; you were very good to think of DORIS AND THEODORA. 223 it" said Doris, gratefully. " I am hungry, I do believe, and the coffee will be sure to keep me awake, because I am not used to it." She ate and drank with an enjoyment which seemed to her heartless, and then, refreshed and strengthened, she returned to her post at her father s bedside, and no longer found it difficult to keep awake. Twice more in the course of the night did Pareen beckon her out to take a cup of coffee, and when Doris begged her to go to bed, she replied : " I am sleeping on the floor in front of the big clock, Missy ; then, when it strikes, I wake up, and I get good sleeps between the times. Missy mustn t fret about me, please ; I m so much stronger than she is, and she s not sleeping at all." The long, dreary night wore slowly and heavily away, and for the first time in her life Doris sat and shivered with the chill which precedes the dawn, and listened to the first faint twitterings and rustlings made by the birds and fowls. The only other time when she had been up all night was upon the occasion of the ball on the " Thekla," and what a vivid contrast did this night present to that! Then it seemed to her that life was a joyous thing; she had had no fear, scarcely a thought, of illness and trouble ; strength and health and freedom from care seemed only natural and proper. But now, even should her father live, he would never again be as he had been before; while her mother, she saw it plainly, was slowly fading from her sight, and she was powerless to save. What had she done that this double sorrow should be laid upon her ? Surely her punishment was greater than she could bear ! And then she remem bered the night of Theo s so nearly mortal illness, and " Nana s " loving words : " My little Missy, does you tink Mass Eobert would take de little baby, or you, and pinch you fingahs in de doah ? 224: DORIS AND THEODORA. Dear Fader above tell us, jus say )y will be done/ cause He know all about eberyting, and we don know nuffin ." Yes, she would cling to that. She could only see a very little way; He saw to the end of the patli in which He was guiding her, and surely she could trust Him. She would try to live just a day at a time, clinging to His hand. She knelt by the bed on which her father lay, praying silently for " grace to help in time of need," and, as she knelt, peace stole into her heart, her overtaxed nerves relaxed, and she slowly sank upon the floor in profound sleep. She woke at the end of an hour to find the sun shining, the birds singing, and her father looking down at her with loving recognition in his eyes, CHAPTER XIV. SHE started up, frightened to think how long she might have been sleeping, but Pareen was at her side in an instant, saying, soothingly : " Missy only been asleep an hour by the big clock, and Master never stirred ; I looked in every few minutes. And Miss Agnes fast asleep, all nice and comfortable. Missy mustn t be scared because she slept a little when she was all tired out." " My poor little girl ! " It was Mr. Campbell who spoke, thickly and with diffi culty; but to Doris, who had feared that she might never hear his voice again, no music could have been so sweet. She kissed him fervently, saying : " I m not poor at all, papa, now that you are better and can speak to me once more. I m a very bad nurse, though, and deserve a good scolding for sleeping at my post, but you shall not give it to me till you have had some breakfast to make you stronger." He smiled and stroked her hand fondly, but made no further effort to speak, and as soon as she had given him the food and medicine directed by the doctor, and made him as comfortable as he could be made, she went to tell her mother of his illness. Doctor Svensen had quite agreed with Doris in thinking that this was best. Mrs. Campbell would at once have perceived it had any attempt been made to keep up a deception, and now that Mr. Campbell was in a better condition, and she could truthfully be told of his improve ment and the hope that it would continue, Doris felt that 226 DORIS AND THEODORA. she could no longer bear to do without the support of her mother s loving sympathy. Pareen had hovered softly between the two rooms since daylight, and so far had reported that Mrs. Campbell was quietly sleeping. She had been restless and wakeful during the early part of the night, oppressed by that feeling of im pending trouble for which it is impossible to account, but which many have experienced. Toward morning, however, she had prayerfully and resolutely conquered her vague doubts and fears, and then exhaustion asserted itself, and she slept long and soundly. Doris stole softly into the room, and stood silently gazing at the lovely, wasted face, through which the sweet soul shone, like light through alabaster. There was a look of perfect peace, but it seemed to Doris that she had not fully realized before how thin and white that face had grown. She crept away again, unwilling to disturb the healing sleep, and another hour passed before the sleeper woke. Then Doris told her, as gently as possible, and was intensely thankful for the calmness with which her mother listened. "I did not tell you, my darling," Mrs. Campbell said, when she had finished, " I did not even tell your father, for I wished to spare him in every possible way, but I knew that he had that slight shock of paralysis a month ago, and I have only been kept from a life of hourly dread by casting all my care on Him who careth for all His children. And, daughter, I have a strange feeling of certainty that my phys ical strength will come back in answer to the need. I did not wish to give you needless pain, or anticipate trouble, but, a week ago, I felt sure that I was dying; now I begin to think that I may live. If papa is comfortable, and does not need you just now, will you help me to dress? Pareen is very good, but no one helps me as you do, darling, and I am afraid you are making me very selfish." DORIS AND THEODORA. 227 " Mamma ! you couldn t be but do you really think you had better dress so early in the day ? Will Dr. Svensen like it?" "Yes, dear ; I told him yesterday I meant to try, and he encouraged me. You know he has great faith almost too great, I sometimes think in the power of the mind over the body. And I will be quiet and careful ; you must not look so anxious, my precious I shall do nothing rash, if only for your sake." The dressing was accomplished with less fatigue to her mother than Doris feared, and little Theo, who all the morn ing had been supernaturally good and quiet, delightedly " helped," trotting from wardrobe to bureau, full of impor tance and good-will. She had been taken in an hour before to see her father, and had gently stroked "poor papa s" pale, drawn face, without a thought of repulsion or fear. She had none of the shrinking from illness which children so often show ; on the contrary, her little heart seemed irre sistibly drawn to the suffering and sorrowing, and the ser vants already worshiped her. Doris thanked God anew every day for the deep comfort of this ever-ready love and tender ness, and on looking back at the troubled time through which she was now passing, the recollection of it ran like a thread of gold through a dark web. " Now, darling, I will rest here a few minutes, while you tell papa that I am coming, and arrange a chair for me close to his bed," said Mrs. Campbell, when, tired but not ex hausted, she sat down, her toilet quite completed ; and Doris made no further remonstrance. A look of keen pleasure lighted Mr. Campbell s face, when Doris told him that his wife was coming, but there was a little questioning anxiety in his eyes as well, and he tried to say: "Is she able?" 228 DORIS AND THEODORA. Doris understood, and answered promptly: "Yes, papa, she is all dressed, and seems stronger than she has been for a good while, and she does look so pretty that I feel like putting a veil over my brown phiz. Give me a kiss before she comes you ll not want to kiss such a plain-looking person afterward." She stooped and kissed him, and he clasped the well arm closely about her neck. Leaning on Doris and Pareen, Mrs. Campbell came slowly along the passage and into the room where her helpless hus band lay. No words were needed then. From that day Mrs. Campbell s health steadily improved. She would never, the doctor said, be very strong, or equal to any great exertion, but with a little care she might keep tolerably well and comfortable. It seemed to Dons that her mother had been given back to her almost from the grave, and the strong bond of love and sympathy between them waxed stronger, day by day. For a week or two there was a daily and marked improve ment in Mr. Campbell s condition, until he was once more up and about the house, and even able to take short drives in the cool of the morning and evening. But there his re covery stopped. The paralyzed leg dragged painfully as he walked, his speech was still much affected, and, what to his wife and daughter seemed worst of all, his memory was much impaired, and the efforts which he was constantly making to recollect events and circumstances, and even to find the words in which to express his thoughts, irritated him to a painful degree. Still more painful was the penitence and sense of humiliation which were sure to follow these sudden and unwonted outbursts of temper, and only his wife could really soothe and comfort him at such times. To little Theo alone was he invariably gentle and patient, and some times her childish talk and eager pleasure in her small DORIS AND THEODORA. 229 affairs could rouse and interest him when all else failed to do so. lie did not seem to suffer any pain, and although, as Dr. Svensen thought it right to tell them, the third stroke of paralysis would in all probability be mortal, he had hope of averting it for a long time, and- even of very much im proving Mr. Campbell s present condition. All excitement and anxiety were to be avoided; he was to be kept as much as possible from business or care of any kind, and not to be thwarted or opposed, when it could possibly be helped. But as soon as he was able to walk with no assistance save that of a stout cane, he insisted upon resuming his daily round of the plantation, and was with difficulty persuaded to allow Cudjoe always to accompany him. The faithful fellow, quietly watchful, and acting with rare judgment and consid eration, averted many a misunderstanding and misfortune, while managing rarely to excite Mr. Campbell s displeasure against himself. Fortunately, most of the laborers on the plantation were the former slaves, and nearly all were friendly to Cudjoe ; but a few, even of these, were jealous of his su periority, and those who had been brought in from outside were especially so. Powerless to help it, Mrs. Campbell and Doris saw only too plainly that much was going wrong, in spite of all Cudjoe s honest and earnest endeavors. During the earlier part of Mr. Campbell s illness, when his wife and daughter, absorbed by anxiety and care, had been able to give but little attention to outdoor affairs, and when Cudjoe had of necessity been much in the house, time and oppor tunity had been wasted in a manner for which no after- diligence could atone. And worse than this, when, after a tedious delay, Mr. Campbell s correspondent was again heard from, their fears were realized, for the offer, not having been accepted when it was first made, was now definitely with drawn ; and it was becoming apparent that the sugar crop this year would fall far short of its usual weight, even should 230 DORIS AND THEODORA. it be equal in quality to that of better years, which seemed doubtful. Mr. Campbell himself perceived this, but the failure of his memory had its merciful side, for sometimes, when he was most troubled and distressed, a skillful turn in the conversation would entirely divert his mind. It was now that it occurred to Doris to sing without her piano. She had taken a few lessons on the guitar a year or two before, but she had never cared very greatly for it ; now, however, she thankfully accepted the loan of Hilda s guitar, and began to practice, delighted with her father s almost childish pleasure in her singing. Little Theo began to join her voice to her older sister s, and Doris soon found that she could give up the air of several easy songs to the child, with perfect confidence, while she herself sang contralto to the high, pure soprano of the little girl. From the time when these concerts began to be given for Mr. Campbell s benefit every evening, just before Theo went to bed, his irritability decreased, and no matter how disturbed or distressed he had been during the day, the evening ended calmly and pleasant ly. That it frequently required an heroic effort on Doris s part to perform this self-imposed task, need scarcely be said ; but it brought its own reward, in the effect it had upon her own spirit. She had felt keenly the loss of her piano, and the sudden breaking off from the occupation she so dearly loved, but it had not occurred to her, until Hilda suggested it, that she might keep up her singing with a guitar-accom paniment. She had hesitated too, at first, about borrowing the guitar, even though the offer of it from Hilda was quite spontaneous and evidently sincere; but she sacrificed the feeling which made her hesitate to the stronger one which urged her to try any and every lawful means to gratify her father. It was a joyful evening, in spite of present and anticipated trouble, when Mrs. Campbell, for the first time in many months, took part in the concert, and tears sprang DORIS AND THEODORA. 231 to Doris s eyes as she saw the look of fond admiration with which her father regarded her mother as the latter sang. "You have a sweet voice, Doris," he said, at the first pause, " a very sweet voice ; but it will never equal your mother s, though it is something like it." " That is what papa thinks," said Mrs. Campbell, smiling fondly on Doris; " /think that my voice, at its best, never equaled my daughter s." Doctor Svensen continued to come frequently, keeping close and faithful watch over both his patients, and Doris could see that he was disappointed that her father s improve ment did not continue. He spoke cheerfully, and would not admit that he was discouraged, but one reason for the fre quency of his visits was the apprehension that some sudden trouble or annoyance would cause the third and probably mortal stroke. His visits always did Mr. Campbell good, apart from their medical value, and Mrs. Campbell and Doris felt that they could never be grateful enough to their old friend for his unceasing care and faithful friendship. As soon as the pressure of immediate anxiety about her father was removed, Doris s mind turned toward Leonard, and that letter which, after all, had never gone. It was found, with the other which should have been sent, and was not, in Mr. Campbell s pocket, during his severe illness, and, as there was no immediate opportunity of sending it, Doris opened it, intending to add an account of her father s condi tion, and anything which she might learn farther about Hilda. But hands and heart were full, and another fort nightly mail slipped away from her, before she realized that the time had come round again. She resolved to be before hand with the next one, and wrote a little from time to time, as opportunity offered. She told Leonard freely of all the trouble which the plantation was giving, and of Doctor Sven- sen s warning, that anxiety of mind might, and very proba- 232 DORIS AND THEODORA. bly would, cause her father to have another shock of paralysis; but she did this from the sisterly habit of telling him all family news, sure of his interest and sympathy, and not dream ing that what she said would have any influence upon his plans and prospects. The time for the closing of the mail was approaching, and she had nearly finished her letter, when Hilda called, and Doris, glad of the chance to give such late news of her, left the letter open, and went to the parlor to meet her friend. It struck her at once that Hilda s manner was constrained and unnatural, and she found it very diffi cult to sustain the conversation between them. She was wondering what had happened, and if she could have given offense in any way, when Hilda said, abruptly: " I came to-day especially to tell you something, Doris, in fulfillment of an old promise. Do you remember, the last year we were at school, how you and I promised each other to tell of our engagements, if we should ever be engaged, to one another first of all, after our mothers knew it ? I ac cepted Lieutenant Jansen yesterday, and the engagement is to be announced next week. We are to be engaged for a year, and then he is going to sell his commission, and take me to the place he has inherited, in Copenhagen, where we shall spend our winters ; in summer, we shall live on the estate, which is, I believe, a fine one, with a large and hand some house upon it." Hilda said all this very much as if she were repeating a lesson, while Doris sat mute, unable, for the moment, to frame a suitable reply. Warm words of reproach and re monstrance rose to her lips, but common sense told her that they would be worse than useless, and she succeeded in repressing them. She was unable, however, wholly to control the expression of her face, and Hilda, after a moment s pause, answered this as if she had spoken. " Don t annihilate me with your great eyes, Doris; I am DORIS AND THEODORA. 233 not about to do anything dreadful. The more I see of Lieu tenant Jansen the better I like him ; I even love him a little, now, and I have faith to believe that he will make me very happy indeed. I like money, and a good position, and plenty of admiration and applause, and all these I shall se cure by my marriage with him. He worships me, and would do far more to please me than I shall ever exact of him, while, on the other hand, he is the least exacting of men. Come, Doris, be reasonable, and nice, and believe that I know my own affairs, and congratulate me politely!" Doris tried to speak, but no voice came ; instead, a passion of sobbing shook her, and she hid her face in her hands. Grief and indignation were too strong for her grief, that Hilda should thus tread down all the better part of her nature, and indignation for the suffering which she knew this news would cause to Leonard. It seemed to her that, had Hilda really and spontaneously loved Lieutenant Jansen, the sting would not have been so sharp ; but that she should thus coolly and deliberately decide to accept him, for the sake of money and position, when her heart was inclined to some one else, was so totally abhorrent to Doris s nature, that she could frame no words of pretended congratula tion. " I can t do it, Hilda," she said, sorrowfully, when she could command her voice. " You know well enough that I cail t and why. There s no use in talking about it. Per haps after awhile I may be able to say that I hope you will be happy, but I can t do even that much, now. I feel wicked. What made you come and tell me all this ?" " Merely because of my promise," replied Hilda, gravely, but not angrily. " You may be very sure, Doris, that I did not covet the undertaking ; but I did hope that you would at least not treat me uncivilly. Just reflect a little, my dear, and do not allow your feelings so completely to sway your 234 DORIS AND THEODORA. judgment. I was totally free un trammeled by so much as an implication ; mamma not only approved Lieutenant Jan- sen s suit, but even urged me, if I could bring myself to love him, to accept him. I have carefully studied his character, and the more I see of it the better I like it. He is manly, honest, intelligent, and every inch a gentleman ; and added to this, he loves me, as I truly believe, with his whole heart. I have told him that I cannot give him such love as he offers me that the affection I feel for him is very calm and sisterly ; but he maintains that this will grow that if I will only give him the opportunity, he will win my love, and I am beginning to think that he can do it. Now, what is there in all this to excite you to such fiery indignation against me ? " Doris fought hard, for a moment, with her impulse to speak out all that was in her heart, but it was too strong for her common sense, and she said, impetuously: "Where is the use, Hilda, in our pretending like this, when we both know so well that Leonard loves you, and when, whatever you may think yourself, I am nearly sure that you love him, or did love him a few weeks ago ? " Hilda grew a shade paler, but she answered, with her usual deliberate calmness : " Since you have taken off your gloves, Doris, I also will take off mine, but only for this once ; after that, we will never again speak upon this subject, if you please. If Leonard Campbell s love had been worth calling by the name, he would not have gone calmly away this last time, knowing, as he must have known, that he had a rival. But even after that, there was one more opportunity. I was weak and silly enough to tell you that which, if he had cared for me at all, must have led him to say so; for I laid no restriction upon you, and felt tolerably sure that you would tell him; and what was the result? Nothing; just DORIS AND THEODORA. 235 absolutely nothing, except that I have received a well- deserved lesson for so far forgetting myself, and so utterly lowering my dignity as I did that day." " Oh Hilda, you didn t I never loved you so well as I did then ! " cried Doris, in eager, trembling tones ; " and Leonard was not to blame the letter never went ! I gave it to papa, just before he was struck down by that dreadful illness two weeks before, that is, and he had so much worriment and trouble on his mind that he forgot to mail it; then he found it, together with a most important business letter, in his pocket, just after the next mail-ship had sailed; and it was his over-exertion, hoping he might still be in time to send the letters, which brought on the illness. Doctor Svensen said he might have lived for months, or even years, with out another stroke, if it had not been for that. Then, while papa was so very ill, I missed another mail, and to day, just as you came, I was adding a second postscript, and meant to give it to Cudjoe to take to Mr. Barrett this afternoon, and have it put among his mail, that it might be sure to go to-morrow. There seems to have been a fate about it." Hilda drew a deep breath. "It does, indeed, seem so," she said, quietly. "You will not send it now, of course ? " "No," replied Doris, mournfully, "unless oh Hilda! Can t you tell Lieutenant Jansen all about everything, and ask him to set you free, even yet ? " "I have nothing to tell him," said Hilda; "and even if I had much, I have pledged him my word, and that I never break. And I tell yon, Doris, once for all, that you must have been mistaken about Leonard he has never loved me, and I can only be thankful that I have been withheld from loving him, and that the letter was so curiously hindered from reaching him." 236 DORIS AND THEODORA. " You don t understand Leonard you do him utter in justice !" said Doris, struggling hard not to let herself cry again. "It was because he loved you so truly, that he would not ask you to pledge yourself to him, when he had no certain prospect, and it might be years before he could marry." " So that was his estimate of me ! " said Hilda, scornfully, adding, with a little sigh : " And when he hears of this, he will conclude that it was perfectly just; and I am inclined to the same opinion. You have all over-estimated me, Doris, but not more than, for awhile, I over-estimated myself. Theories are very grand and beautiful things, but in reality, one s daily comfort and hap piness depend upon very small, common-place affairs, with which theories have nothing whatever to do. And as for plans and resolutions there is no use in making them, not the very slightest use ! " " I can t bear to hear you talk in that way, Hilda," said Doris, "and I don t believe you really feel so you are only trying to make yourself think that you do. Comfort and happiness are good things to have, if they come incidentally, but I am sure you do not think, any more than I do, that they were intended for aims and objects ! Don t you remem ber that line from Thomas a Kempis of which Antoinette is so fond : l As for comforts, leave them to God; let Him do therein as shall best please Him ? " "That is very well for Antoinette, Doris poor child, there is but little earthly comfort for her! But to a young, strong, healthy person, the desire for life and freedom and happiness is only natural, and a state of mind like Antoi nette s, in such a person, would be morbid and unnatural. No one can be young more than once, and there are certain pleasures and enjoyments which are possible only while one is young. Now I must go but promise me, first, that when DORIS AND THEODORA. 23? you write to Leonard you will simply mention my engage ment, without note or comment, and that you will at once burn that detained letter." There was more irnperiousness in Hilda s tone and man ner than she was herself aware of, and Doris came near making a haughty reply, but she reflected in time upon the uselessness of this, and managed to say quietly enough : " I shall destroy the letter, Hilda, of course ; but I do not consider that I am bound to promise you anything as to what I shall or shall not write. I think you may safely trust me to say nothing that will hurt your pride." "Yes, I think I may," said Hilda, absently, and ap parently quite unaware that anything, either in the matter or manner of what she had said, was calculated to give offence. (t Good-bye, Doris ; good-bye, my dear ! " And, to Doris s astonishment, Hilda threw both arms about her neck, and kissed her warmly. This was part of the letter which went to Leonard next day, in place of the long communication which had so nearly gone. "MY DEAR LEONARD : " Do not imagine, because you have not heard from me of late, that I have not written ; a letter was detained acci dentally, several weeks ago ; and so much has happened since, that I must write a new one, instead of merely adding to the old one. Papa has been very ill so ill, that for awhile we scarcely hoped for his life; he is better now, but I fear he will never again be well. It is paralysis, and I found that he had already had one slight shock, a month be fore this very serious one. The doctor fears that any great trouble or agitation may cause a third and mortal stroke ; and you may imagine the anxiety we hourly feel, for things are going badly on the plantation, and there is much to 238 DORIS AND THEODORA. trouble him, even were he quite well and strong. But one of the saddest features of the disease the frequent failure of his memory makes it easier for us to keep him cheerful. He insisted so strenuously upon resuming his morning round of the plantation, that Dr. Svensen thought it best to oppose him in the matter no longer ; so he goes every morn ing, accompanied by Cudjoe, whose faithfulness and devo tion are the greatest comfort. He frequently comes in very much annoyed by what he has seen and heard, but it is com paratively easy for mamma and me, and even for dear little Theo, to turn his thoughts into another channel, and make him forget whatever is troubling him. And how often good conies out of evil ! You know how steadily mamma s health has declined since the night of the rebellion. She has been wasting away before our eyes, and nothing seemed to help her; but when papa was taken so ill, she really seemed to conquer her weakness by sheer force of will ; she stays up nearly all day, now ; she has begun to drive out again ; and I can t help hoping that she may yet be entirely well. Papa does not seem happy long when she is out of his sight, and it goes to my heart to see how he looks at her. I cannot see what is to become of things here. Neither mamma nor I know enough about the management of the plantation to give orders intelligently; and, faithful and good as Cudjoe is, he cannot, of course, be expected to fill papa s place. I wish we knew mamma and I about papa s investments in America. He never said much to mamma about his business affairs, and all we know is, that several years ago he withdrew his money from England, and in vested it somehow in the States. He said it brought him much more interest, but so far as we know, he has received nothing from it for the last three months, at least. Do you know anything about it? Please tell us, if you do. It seems heartless, almost, to be thinking and talking so much about DORIS AND THEODORA. 239 it now, but we can t help feeling uneasy, far more upon papa s account than upon our own. I have said all this first, partly because I am a coward, and feel really afraid to tell you what I heard to-day. Dear Leonard, how my heart aches for you. Hilda was here this afternoon, and she came expressly to fulfil a foolish compact into which we en tered while we were at school together a promise to tell each other, next after our mothers, when, or if, we should be engaged to be married. I had forgotten all about it, but it seems Hilda had not, and she would die rather than break her word, even in a trifling matter. You will guess now what it was that she came to tell me she is engaged to Lieutenant Jansen; and they are to be married in a year. I think that, in her queer, cool way, she really does love him, (Doris had nearly written " a little," but stopped herself in time) and there is no doubt whatever that he loves her a great deal. I will not be so foolish as to try to comfort you, now, but, dear brother, I will pray that you may be com forted." Doris was far from satisfied with her letter, when it was finished, but she had no time left to re-write it, for the mail- ship sailed next day, and it must go. this time. It seemed to her that her news would come to Leonard with cruel ab ruptness, let her preface it as she might, and she sighed as she thought of the sorrow it would cause. Again she felt her indignation toward Hilda rising, and she could not suc ceed in convincing herself that it was unreasonable. But when the letter was fairly gone, she breathed more freely, and her naturally hopeful temperament came to her aid. Leonard would surely cease to care for Hilda, when he knew for a certainty that she cared for some one else; he was too right-minded, Doris argued with herself, not to. And perhaps, after all, it was best Hilda was so icy cold, 240 DORIS AND THEODORA. that she would surely have disappointed him, even had she been willing to wait all those tedious years. And would she have heen willing to wait, even if Lieutenant Jansen had not appeared upon the scene ? Doris doubted it. CHAPTER XY. BEFORE this last letter of Doris s reached Leonard, he had begun to debate with himself the question whether he ought not to give up, at least for the present, his plans and prospects, and return to Santa Cruz, to see if he could avert the crisis which seemed to be impending over the home which had so generously sheltered him. It would be years, according to the programme which he had set down for himself, before he could be of the slightest assistance to his uncle, and it was becoming evident to him that help, to be of any avail, must be given promptly. He knew only too well the nature of his uncle s investments ; the usual risk had been taken, in obtaining a high interest on the money ; for awhile, all had gone prosperously, or had appeared to do so, but of late unpleasant rumors had been afloat concerning the two companies in which not only Mr. Campbell, but several of the planters Mr. Barrett among the number had invested their spare capital, and soon after the receipt of Doris s letter, the rumors became a certainty, of ruin, total and final. A faint hope of a payment of ten cents on the dollar was at first held out, but this was with drawn, before long, and Leonard found himself confronted with the terribly painful task of writing about this sad news either to his aunt or Doris ; he knew, from what the latter had told him of her father s condition, that the letter must not be written to him. The more Leonard thought the matter over, the more impossible it seemed to him to write this letter, and then to go calmly on with his studies, while his adopted parents and sister were struggling with poverty 11 242 DORIS AND THEODORA. and trouble. He was feeling bitterly the tidings of Hilda s engagement, reproaching alternately himself and her him self for not having risked everything, and tried, at least, to obtain a promise from her, and her, for not having under stood him without an explanation. He found great difficulty in fixing his thoughts upon any other subject, and came very near neglecting his work in a manner calculated to affect his standing. But he had a large store of common sense, and although the wound ached cruelly now, he felt that in time it would heal that he would be convinced, as he tried to be now, that Hilda was not "all his fancy painted her." He tried hard to look at the matter from her standpoint, and partially succeeded, but he felt thankful for the distance which sepa rated them ; and then he suddenly remembered that, if he obeyed the prompting of his heart, which hourly grew stronger, and went to his uncle s assistance, he would be obliged to see Hilda frequently and to have the certainty of his loss constantly thrust upon him. For a little while, this almost turned the scale ; then came a revulsion of feeling, and he condemned himself severely for selfishness and in gratitude, for want of strength and manliness, and, with this mood strong upon him, he hastened to make his arrange ments for withdrawing from college, and engaged his passage for the earliest possible opportunity of reaching Santa Cruz. This would not occur for a week, so he would have ample time, he thought, to wind up his affairs in the United States not finally, for he fully meant to follow the course he had marked out for himself, as soon as the necessity which he now felt pressing upon him should be over. He could not help hoping that his uncle might be induced to sell the plan tation, and, with the money so acquired safely invested, come to a small but comfortable home in the United States, and give up the hopeless attempt to retrieve his fallen for- DORIS AND THEODORA. 243 tunes in Santa Cruz. It would be hopeless, of course, even were his uncle well and capable of managing his affairs, to attempt to carry on the plantation now ; it might have been done, had the income from the investments continued, though even then it would probably have been necessary to withdraw a small amount of capital for the purpose. Now, with an insufficient and uncertain staff of servants, with no ready money to continue the needed repairs and improve ments, or even to live upon, in the interval before the crops should be sold, it was clearly impossible; but Leonard s great fear was that he should not be able to convince his uncle of this. From various little things in his aunt s and Doris s letters, he inferred his uncle s real condition, and he knew that there is no such hopeless obstinacy as that which lacks reason. Still, his aunt s influence might do much, aided by the failing memory, although it seemed almost like treason, to Leonard, to count upon the latter as a means of managing his uncle s affairs. He regretted very much that it was impossible to announce his intended coming, but he felt unwilling to lose the two weeks which must be lost should he wait to do this, and he knew that, after the first shock of surprise to his aunt and cousin, and the natural unwillingness to accept the sacrifice he was making, his presence would be only a comfort to both of them, whatever it might be to his uncle. The vessel in which he sailed made a quick and pleasant voyage ; twelve days from that on which he had embarked, the high, bluff coast of the " north side " became visible early in the morning, and by afternoon they were entering the beautiful harbor. In spite of all the depressing influences connected with his return, his heart gave a glad bound as, rounding the Island, they came in view of the west side, and he saw once more the beautiful estates which, lying on the more level land, looked like huge gardens as the ship passed 244 DORIS AND THEODORA. them in rapid succession ; then the wide strip of sandy beach, with its border of tall cocoanut-palms, separating it from Strand-street, and stretching away almost to the south ern point of land; and then the streets and houses of the little town of Frederickstadt became distinctly visible ; he could even see the palms bordering the wide avenue which still marked the spot where his uncle s house had stood. The vessel was made fast; the boats, rowed by smiling ne groes, came alongside, and, hardly waiting to secure the land ing of his luggage, he was rowed ashore, and walked with eager haste towards his home. His heart throbbed painfully as he saw upon all sides the too evident marks of neglect and mismanagement, and a great wave of pity and sympathy went over it as he stood at the door of the bare, comfortless-looking house which had been hastily erected as a temporary shelter, but which would now, he sadly felt, never be replaced by the beautiful and comfortable home which his uncle had so sanguinely planned. It was not really so comfortless as it looked. Doris had lavished ingenuity and care upon the interior, in her en deavor to give her mother a home-feeling and divert her father s failing mind, making the rooms, as nearly as she could, exactly similar to the corresponding ones in the lost home, and the contrast between the outside and inside pro duced a fresh feeling of surprise whenever any one entered the house. He knocked softly, and the door was opened by Parecn. Her astonished exclamation of "Laws! Mars Leonard ! is it you or you ghos ?" was uttered in so high a key that every one in the house heard it, and in a few minutes all the family, save Mr. Campbell, had gathered around him, full of wondering delight. But in a few minutes, when they had a little recovered from the surprise of seeing him, Mrs. Camp bell asked anxiously : DORIS AND THEODORA. 245 " What has happened, dear Leonard, to bring you home at this time, and so unexpectedly ? Nothing is wrong, I hope?" Leonard took his aunt s hand caressingly, saying with a smile : " I have been neither suspended nor expelled, dear aunt ; I have only given myself leave of absence, to look after my family a little. I could not stand it any longer it was bud enough to know how ill and suffering both you and my uncle were, but when I heard of the failure of those compa nies, and the terrible loss it meant for you, I felt that I must come ; but my Career, as Doris and I used to call it, is not abandoned, it is only postponed for a little while so you must not be troubled about that, or anything else from which I can save you." Mrs. Campbell and Doris looked first at Leonard and then at each other, bewildered. "Loss?" said the former, inquiringly; "do you mean the loss of that offer for the crop, my dear? That was a pity, but it will only make a difference for this one year ; by next year, I hope, Doris and I will have learned how to manage, and the plantation will bring in the usual returns again." But Doris sprang up, with a sudden exclamation of dismay. " Oh, mamma! I understand it all now. Do you remem ber that business-looking letter, which you so wished papa to open, and how he would put it in his pocket and start on his morning round, because he was afraid of being overtaken by the heat ? I am afraid we all forgot it afterward I know I did, for one I have never thought of it from that moment to this, and I suppose it tells of what Leonard is talking about. Do you know where it is ? " " No," said Mrs. Campbell, sadly, I do not, and neither 246 DORIS AND THEODORA. does your father. I did not forget it I have asked him for it many times since, but he has never been able to recall what he did with it. We must make a careful search now. Do you suppose any harm has been done, Leonard, by the delay ? " "Dear Aunt Agnes," said Leonard, hesitatingly, "the harm was all done long before the letter reached you you have only been spared two more weeks of anxiety by the de lay. I think you know that my uncle, some time ago, in company with Mr. Barrett and several more of the planters, invested all his money, excepting what he had in immediate use, in American stocks. There have been a great many failures in America lately there is a sort of business panic, I am told, all over the country and the concern to which this money was intrusted has failed most completely and disastrously; they are paying nothing whatever to any of the stockholders, and I fear they are thoroughly dishonest. I am glad my uncle did not read the letter. If we can only find it now, and either destroy or put it where he will never see it again, perhaps we can keep him from knowing any thing at all about it." " We must we will!" said Doris, with sudden energy; "I see now," she added, "why Jeanie has not been here for nearly two weeks. She has been waiting until she could be certain we had heard of this. I will write to her this even ing. Dear Leonard, it was very good of you to come. I don t know what mamma and I should have done, if we had been all alone with dear papa, and had heard about it. There is much that we can do, if we can only manage so as to sat isfy papa about it." "We can do that, I think," said Mrs. Campbell, sadly; "he so soon forgets now anything that is told him. Dear Leonard, you will see a very great change in your uncle. DORIS AND THEODORA. 247 Ho seems like an old man now ; mind and body are both failing fast." "But perhaps/ said Leonard, hopefully, "if he can be induced to leave this place and come to America, the sea voyage and the new climate and surroundings may restore him at least to comfort and usefulness, even if he should never be very strong and vigorous again." "I should like to think so," replied Mrs. Campbell, "but I am afraid not. The utmost that Dr. Svensen leads us to hope for is that he may be kept tolerably comfortable, and spared another shock of paralysis. I can see that his strength is gradually failing ; but so long as he does not seem to suffer actual pain, we must be thankful for that." "But how wonderfully better you yourself are looking, Aunt Agnes," said Leonard ; " Doris told me of the great improvement in your health, but I scarcely hoped to find you so Avell as you seem to be you look exactly as you did when I first came to you, before you were ill at all." " We are very proud of her, Dr. Svensen and I," said Do ris, nestling close to her mother s side; " we pay each other compliments upon our skill as doctor and nurse, every time we meet." " They are very well-deserved compliments," said Mrs. Campbell, fondly; " nobody was ever taken quite such good care of, I think, as I have been." That is because nobody ever deserved it so well," replied Doris. "Was that papa stirring, mamma?" she added, anxiously; "I think I had better go and see he has slept longer than usual to-day." She stepped lightly from the room, and they heard her presently talking merrily to her father, as she helped him to arrange his dress and hair, before bringing him into the parlor. Leonard was shocked, notwithstanding all that had been said, when he first saw his uncle. The change was, 248 DORIS AND THEODORA. indeed, great. But Mr. Campbell s pale, drawn face bright ened wonderfully when he saw his nephew, and he greeted him with warm affection, asking rapid questions about the voyage without pausing to have them answered, and, to the great relief of all the family, seeming to see nothing extraor dinary in his nephew s arrival at that time. All allusion to his affairs was carefully avoided, and the evening passed quietly away, leaving him looking brighter and better than he had looked for many days. He went to bed early, and, after Doris had helped her mother to attend him, she returned to say good-night to Leonard, who was pacing slowly up and down in front of the house in the still, cloud less moonlight. The charred ruins of the old house had been carefully cleared away, and the stone piazza was found almost unin jured under a mass of ashes and blackened timbers. The temporary house had been erected about a hundred yards farther back from the road, for Mr. Campbell s intention had been to build the new house exactly upon the old site, and as nearly like the old one as possible, and a small beginning had already been made. Leonard tucked Doris s arm be neath his, saying coaxingly : " Sec, dear, how a flood of moonlight seems to be specially poured on the poor oW. deserted stone piazza. It is only a little after nine ; come over there with me, and we will walk up and down, and make believe that the house is still there, and everything as it used to be. Come ! " "I can t make believe any more; I am afraid I am growing too old," said Doris, yielding to the impulse given by his words and the motion of his arm. " But we will go for a little while the moonlight is so lovely, and I have nothing more to do now until to-morrow morning." lie helped her up the leaning steps, and for a few minutes they paced back and forth in perfect silence, each oppressed DORIS AND THEODORA. 249 with the weight of sad and painful thoughts and thronging memories. It was Leonard who at last broke the silence. "Do you wonder how I could come back, Doris, after hearing of Hilda s engagement ? " he asked, and then, with out waiting for her to answer, he continued: " It was hard work, so far as that was concerned ; but I thought I could stand it better than I could to feel that I was a coward, and was leaving the people I loved best to suffer alone. I suppose I must meet Hilda and that man sooner or later, and I feel a sort of impatience now to have it over and done with without farther delay. Do you really think, Doris, that she loves him, and that he will make her happy ? " "Yes," said Doris, thoughtfully, "I do. I am pretty sure Hilda would not marry any man without at least thinking that she loved him, and she will probably be happy enough, after a fashion, but I do not covet her happiness." "I don t think I quite understand you, dear; what sort of a fashion do you mean?" "I mean," said Doris, speaking slowly, as she tried to arrange her thoughts, " that it will be a happiness of the head rather than the heart. They are to spend their winters in Copenhagen, and I have no doubt she counts upon meeting a great many brilliant people and shining in society, and of course she will ; but she does not seem to be counting at all upon her home-life, or what they will do when they are by themselves, and she can t be shining in society all the time, you know." " I wish I knew what to think," said Leonard, and Doris saw, in the clear, white light, how sad and puzzled his face looked. "I have never been certain that I really understood Hilda. She is either the most reserved or the most heart less woman I ever met, and I cannot decide which not that it is incumbent upon me to do so," he added, with a rather 250 DORIS AND THEODORA. forlorn smile, "under existing circumstances, and indeed I didn t mean to be so foolish and selfish, dear, when there are things to be thought of so much more important than my trouble. That was not what I meant to talk of, at all, when I coaxed you over here, but, somehow, moonlight always makes me think of Hilda. I wanted to ask you if you think Aunt Agnes is well enough for me to have a business talk with her to-morrow?" " Yes, I think she is," replied Doris, a little doubtfully, "and it must be done, I can see that plainly. The best thing we could possibly do, so far as I can see, would be to sell this place and go to the States. I am pretty sure that Mr. Santon would help me to find music scholars you know he has been writing me such kind, helpful letters two or three times a year, ever since w r e had that talk about music. I am out of practice now, of course, but I could soon bring myself up again if I had a piano, and I have always thought that I should like teaching of any kind, I enjoyed my turns in our school so much. With what we get for the place safely invested, and what I could make teach ing, I should think we might be very comfortable, and Dr. Svensen has said for some time that mamma would be much better in a more bracing climate than this. But the great trouble is, I don t see any prospect of selling the estate ; and unless we could do that, all the rest would be quite out of the question. I do wonder how those people manage, Leonard, who begin with nothing at all, and make colossal fortunes! One reads of them, but I have never yet met any of them. Have you ? " " I met the son of one of them at college," replied Leon ard, smiling at her earnest face, " a good, honest, unpreten tious fellow, with no nonsense about him ; and after I grew to know him quite well, he mentioned incidentally one day what was the foundation of his father s fortune." DORIS AND THEODORA. 251 "And what was it? " asked Doris, eagerly. "A wheelbarrow-load of potatoes, which he sold upon shares," said Leonard, gravely, but with twinkling eyes. " Oh, Leonard ! Are you in earnest ? How could it be ?" And Doris looked incredulous. " 1 am quite in earnest, and so was old Mr. Hanson, and that was how he came to make the fortune. He came to New York from the country, with an outfit of good, plain clothes, and a little money to keep him going till he found a place, which he supposed would be in a week, at the very farthest; but he found that he had been basely deceived as to the demand for boys in New York. He was too proud to go back to the farm and say so, or even to write to his mother for more money; so he stood it till his money was gone, and all his clothes but those he had on, still asking for a place as clerk or bookkeeper. When he got pretty hungry, he concluded that he would like to be a porter, but nobody seemed to want a porter just then, so at last he went to one of the big markets, where he knew a man from his own part of the country, and this man, perhaps to see of what texture the youth s character was, filled a wheelbarrow with fine potatoes, put a measure on the top, and told young Hanson that if he could manage to sell them at the doors, he should have half what they brought. He went off, de lighted with the chance, as he would have been, by this time, with any sort of an honest chance, and he didn t just wheel them through the principal streets and wait for the citizens to stop him, he shouted their virtues, and chose the small streets where people would buy them at their front doors, and in an hour or two he went back to the market with his bar row empty, and asked to have it filled again ! His friend kept him at this for a few weeks, and then took him to help in the market, and by-and-by the farmer rented a little corner-store, and put Hanson in it; and so it went on from 252 DORIS AND THEODORA. one thing to another, till now he is at the head of one of the largest produce commission houses in New York, and has a fortune to leave his son, as well as an interest in the busi ness. And what I specially like about young Hanson is that, in a quiet way, he s immensely proud of his father and the way in which he started in life, instead of trying to keep it still, and calling him a merchant, as a good many fellows I know would do." " How in the world did you come to remember all that, Leonard ? " asked Doris, amused, but much interested as well. " I put it away for reference," said Leonard ; "and I mean to remember it. There s no telling but what I may be in a similar < fix/ as Hanson would say, one of these days, and I don t mean, if I know anything about it, to wait till I have sold all my clothes, and am torn by the pangs of hunger, before coming to my kingdom of common sense. I have thought about it a great deal since he told me this story, and it seems to me that a good many of the failures to hit the mark come from shooting too high." "But it always seemed to me," said Doris, "that one couldn t aim too high. One should surely try for the sort of work which most fully develops one s mind and character, and sometimes I think it would almost be nobler to starve than to sacrifice one s ideals and aspirations." "Now Doris!" said Leonard, with a little impatience in his voice, " that is not like you. Who is talking of sacrificing ideals and aspirations ? They can be boxed up and safely put away until one can afford to take them out and air them! The question is, as a general thing, not whether one will do distasteful work or starve, but whether one will do it or be dependent; and you wouldn t hesitate then, surely I mean, of course, if you were a man." "No, of course I shouldn t," said Doris, no longer DORIS AND THEODORA. 253 speaking doubtfully; "and Leonard, I don t see why I should, being a woman, any more than if I were a man ! " "You must excuse me for saying, my dear, that, sensible as you usually are, you are now talking utter nonsense ! What are the men of a family good for, I should like to know, if they cannot take care of the women ? So long as I, your brother and lawful protector, am living, and in pos session of bodily and mental health, you will please not make any such treasonable proposition as that in my hearing." "It is very good of you to feel that way, dear Leonard," said Doris, gratefully, "and I am glad, in one sense, that you do ; but if things turn out as I now fear that they will, I cannot be satisfied to sit idle while you give up everything to work for us. But come, we must go back, or I shall not wake in time to-morrow morning. This is a most unwonted dissipation for me ! " Doris hastened to bed, but it was more than an hour later before she fell asleep. The excitement of Leonard s coming was partly responsible for her wakefulness, but not alto gether; she was thinking earnestly of what they had said about work. In all her visions of working for her family, although it had occurred to her that her hands, rather than her head, might be the means employed, she still had hoped that a chance would present itself for the latter. Now, how ever, when she was confronted by the thought that she might be obliged to look for something to do in Santa Cruz, instead of the wider field of the United States, and the knowledge that she would be unable to find enough music scholars to make looking for them worth while, she began to think that her views had been too exalted, and to wonder if some humbler way of helping her beloved ones might not be lying unnoticed at the very door. She could think of nothing, however, and then, remembering that Jane would have cause 254 DORIS AND THEODORA. to study the same problem, if her father s loss were as heavy as their own of which she had little doubt she resolved to send a note in the morning, asking Jane to come for a con sultation, and, satisfied with having arrived at this conclusion, at last fell asleep. Leonard very soon found that he had formed no correct idea, beforehand, of the magnitude of his undertaking. His uncle was a hindrance, rather than a help, in every attempt which he made to rectify mistakes and abuses on the planta tion, and very soon manifested a suspicion of Leonard s motives and actions, which rendered every undertaking doubly difficult. The sugar-mill was badly in need of repairs, having been roughly handled on the night when the house was burnt ; tools had been stolen and mislaid until the sup ply was very inadequate to the demand ; the crop was so poor and scant that Leonard began to think it would be cause for thankfulness if it paid for the expense of securing it, and altogether it seemed as if nothing but an immediate and liberal supply of ready money could save the plantation from total destruction. Leonard s resolution was soon taken ; he wrote for half of the sum which was to have carried him through college and his medical studies, and when it arrived, tried to disburse it quietly, as it was needed, without attracting his aunt s and Doris s attention. With the former he succeeded in this, for she seldom went about the plantation enough to notice the gradual changes for the better which were taking place ; but Doris very soon sus pected the real state of the case, and it made her exceedingly unhappy. She was so nearly sure, that she was several times upon the point of speaking to Leonard about it, but was still prevented by the thought that, in the remote possibility of her being mistaken, she might be suggesting a new idea to him, and one which he would be apt to follow. In this uncertain condition of mind she waited for several DORIS AND THEODORA. 255 days, until something inadvertently told her by Cudjoe made her sure that her surmise had been correct. Then she took the first opportunity of speaking to him about it, and he was unable to deny that she had guessed rightly. She was much distressed, and begged him fervently not to con tinue his generous attempt to restore prosperity to them, when success was at best so doubtful, and the loss would be so serious to him if the almost inevitable failure came. He tried in vain to convince her that it was merely a loan, and that, in his temporary absence from college, the temporary use of part of his money could cause him neither loss nor inconvenience. "You know, dear sister," he said, "that you promised long ago to let me be your real brother, and you must remember that promise now. There is no ( mine and thine between a real brother and sister, dear." "But Leonard," answered Doris, earnestly, "even if you were, as you truly seem to me to be, my real brother, I should feel exactly the same about this. The more I think of it and Jeanie and I have had a great many talks about it the less I see why a healthy woman, with an ordinary amount of intellect, should sit down and vegetate, even if every circumstance of her life is in favor of her doing so. And when, on the other hand, a necessity like that which has come to us, arises, it seems to me simply absurd, and I don t mean to do it. I am so very glad you told me that little story about Mr. Hanson. It has sent my thoughts on a new tack, to use a beautiful nautical simile, and when Jeanie comes, I am confident that we can evolve something out of our combined inner consciousnesses, which will be worth while. So far, there has been a weak spot in all my projects, but I somehow feel now as if I were going to solve my problem." "Now, Doris!" said Leonard, coaxingly, "just wait a 256 DORIS AND THEODORA. little, until we see whether I can t pick up the plantation, and set it on its feet again ! If we could only get rid of that half-dozen of outside darkies, I do believe that by another year Cudjoe could manage the whole concern admirably, especially if Mr. Barrett would let the boy come to him in any doubt or difficulty. Our own people are nearly all quite willing to work under Cudjoe, partly because they like him, but more, I think, because of that curious scene at Glasgow s bedside ; but of course the outsiders have no such regard for him, and among people so volatile and easily diverted as even the best of the negroes are, their influence is always making trouble." " Then why can t they be sent away, and others hired in their place ?" inquired Doris. " Because, so far as I can yet see, nothing would be gained by doing so," replied Leonard. " I am on the watch, how ever, and whenever I see a chance to replace them by better men, it shall be done ; but the great misfortune is, that after the rebellion some of the very best and steadiest of the negroes left the Island, for they were the ones who had saved money, and were able to go, and then a gang of idle, roving fellows came from the other islands, with the idea, appar ently, of living as nearly without work as possible. I am thinking very seriously whether it would not be worth while to import a dozen steady, industrious white laborers from the States, and offer them small farms in payment for their work. The plantation could be made to pay much better, now, it seems to me, if it were a good many acres smaller; and some white laborers, of the right sort, might have a very beneficial influence over the blacks. I know a fellow in New York a sort of a self-appointed city missionary, who could find me the men without a struggle or a groan ; but I don t quite like to do it solely on my own responsibility I mean to have a talk with Mr. Barrett about it, and be guided DORIS AND THEODORA. 257 by what he says. He s a very bright, wide-awake man, but he has an immense amount of hard sense. I ll tell you what, Doris ; you want to see Jeanie ; let s drive over there thb evening, after dinner. You don t look to me as if you got enough fresh air." " If mamma and papa are as well as usual, I shall be de lighted to do it," replied Doris, her face brightening with the prospect. So it was arranged, and as she went about the house that day, she found herself once more singing because she felt like it. OHAPTEE XYI. IT was characteristic of Leonard, that when once his fate, as regarded Hilda, was finally settled, he turned his face firmly the other way ; and while he did not at all for get, allowed his memories to make no difference in his daily life, or his behavior to those by whom he was surrounded. It would have been easier for him, perhaps, if scorn for Hilda had been mixed with his regret ; but his sense of justice, which was keen, obliged him to admit that there was no ground for this. If he had ever received the letter which Doris destroyed, his feeling would necessarily have been different ; as it was, he accepted the conclusion that Hilda must have been unconscious of his love for her, that she had never cared for him, excepting as a friend, and that Lieuten ant Jansen s devotion had awakened as much affection as her calm and well-regulated heart was capable of feeling. He was totally free from the petty spirit and wounded vanity which so often cause, if not the heart, at least the fancy, to be " caught in the rebound." He was wounded, but the wound was a healthy one, which would heal, as he felt sure, in time; but he meant to give himself time. Meanwhile, he saw no reason for inflicting his trouble upon the people he loved best, and who had been in no way responsible for it, and his earnest effort to lighten the heavy load under which his aunt and Doris were bearing up so bravely, was the best possible medicine for his own hurt, so that the cheerfulness which was at first assumed with a good deal of difficulty became more easy and natural every day, to the intense relief of Doris, who had dreaded DORIS AND THEODORA. 259 yery much the effect of Leonard s disappointment upon his spirits, and even upon his health. When Leonard had suggested the drive to Mr. Barrett s plantation, he had forgotten, for the moment, that there might be some difficulty in carrying out the suggestion. On the night of the rebellion, Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, it may be remembered, had gone for a drive ; when they went alone, they preferred the chaise with one horse, and without a driver, but that evening they had taken little Theo and her " Nana " with them, and so had gone in the coach a double carriage, built in England, and hung so high that a small flight of steps, which the black drivers delighted to let down suddenly and noisily, was necessary in getting in and out. The body of the coach was painted yellow, and although two horses could draw it quite easily, it was customary, upon state occasions, to use four ; for all the wealthier planters possessed similar vehicles, while those who could not afford to keep many horses used chaises. The two horses which were attached to the carriage that evening had been turned loose by one of the men who was secretly faithful to his master, and recovered and restored the next day; but the others, which were in the stable, had been either stolen or driven away, and only one had ever been found and restored, although Cudjoe had made faithful and diligent search. The work had of course come heavily upon the reduced number, and even the horse which Mr. Campbell rode in his daily round was beginning to look jaded and worn, and Cudjoe, with unruffled patience, re peated to his master the explanation of his being called upon to ride such a sorry-looking animal. There had been one new and very pretty chaise, one older, but still in good order, and quite decent-looking, and an old one, which was frequently lent to the negroes for their visit ing and shopping excursions, and this last was the sole sur- 260 DORIS AND THEODORA. vivor of the fire. Leonard, with many misgivings as to the result, told Cudjoe to clean this ancient vehicle, and make it look as well as possible, and he was agreeably surprised when Cudjoe, with a gleam of triumph in his black eyes, called him out to see what had been effected. The chaise had been carefully washed, the curtains neatly mended, and the cushions, of dark blue cloth, appeared to be per fectly new. " Why, Cudjoe, you don t mean to say that this is the old rattle-trap ? " inquired Leonard, doubtfully. "Those cushions look quite new, and the rest is ancient, but respectable. It must have been the worst one which was burnt." Cudjoe showed all his numerous front teeth in a gratified grin, as he replied: "No, Mas Leonard, this is the old chaise; but perhaps Master remembers Mr. Campbell s old blue cloth coat and trousers ? I asked Miss Agnes for them this morning, and " Cudjoe waved his hand dramatically toward the cushions, by way of conclusion to his sentence, in a manner which would have made Leonard laugh heartily if he had not been afraid of hurting the good fellow s feelings. "And do you mean to say that those stylish-looking cushions are covered with an old coat and trousers?" said Leonard. " You ll have to be a coach-maker, Cudjoe ; you ve real genius for it ! How pleased Miss Doris will be!" Again the white teeth flashed into sight, as Cudjoe said, proudly : " That was what I was thinking bout, all the time, as I made them, Mas Leonard." Doris bestowed a full measure of praise on the delighted artist in chaise-cushions, and enjoyed, afterwards, Leonard s mirth over the humble origin of their state. "I have not felt so young as I do to-night since the be- DORIS AND THEODORA. 261 ginning of papa s illness," she said, as they drove through the lovely moonlit landscape. Their horse, inspired by a day s rest and an extra feeding, was getting over the ground almost too rapidly, Doris thought, considering the beauty through which they were passing; her father had seemed brighter and more like himself that evening than he had done for many days, and her mother, delighted that the lit tle expedition had been proposed, was more animated and cheerful even than usual. The affectionate care and observ ance with which Leonard surrounded her was all the more grateful from the fact that, for so many weeks now, she had been the care-taker, and had insisted, when her mother grew anxious about her, that a young, strong, healthy per son, such as she was, was all the better for having plenty to do. She had begun to feel the strain of responsibility, and the manner in which Leonard shared and lightened it made her wonder how she had so long managed without him. She often wondered to herself at the manliness and strength of character which had so rapidly developed in him during the past year, and thought with a sort of disdain that Hilda might gladly have waited five years, or even ten, for the love of such a man as Leonard was growing to be. Doris was a little unjust to Hilda; she could not at all realize how her friend s pride had been stung, nor how soothing to this wounded pride had been Lieutenant Jansen s persistent and uucalculating devotion, after what she considered such cold and unflattering regard as Leonard had manifested. The Barretts welcomed their young visitors very warmly, but Jane was especially glad to see Doris. "I have just been answering your note, my dear," she said, "and explaining my apparent neglect, and why it must last for a few days longer. Mamma has not been at all well, and the servants have been behaving abominably, so that Clara and I have had our hands full ; and I have 262 DORIS AND THEODORA. lamented most of all that our plans for seeing you and trying to help you a little, have been defeated as fast as they were formed. " " Oh, I didn t feel neglected at all," said Doris, cheer fully; "I knew there must be some very good reason, and I was delighted when Leonard arranged our expedition for to-night. You see, I had somehow fallen into the belief that I might as well cry for the moon as for a decent horse and vehicle, and behold, here we are in an establishment which, whatever it may prove to be in the way of rats and pumpkins by garish daylight, is highly respectable by moon light. But I am ever so sorry, Jeanie, that it is tribulation which has kept you at home. Is your mother getting better?" "Oh, yes she will be down presently, if Eunice has con descended to go and tell her you are here. I never feel cer tain now that the servants will do anything, until I have seen it done. I don t see how you manage at all you must be a born general, for all your menials seem to tremble and obey you." "They don t tremble much, or at least not visibly," said Doris, smiling; "but we have three perfectly faithful and devoted ones, Hagar Glasgow s widow, you know and her two children, Pareen and Cudjoe. Cud joe is very much like his father, papa has always said; but Pareen is much brighter and more intelligent than her mother, and learns everything I have time to teach her. But Jeanie, time is precious, for there s no telling when two such important people as we are may meet again, and I have so much to say to you ! I had thought myself stupid about our problem, when something Leonard said gave me a fresh start, though in an old direction," and Doris gave in a few words the gist of Leonard s narrative about Mr. Hanson, adding: "Now you see, in all our speculations and endeavors to think of DORIS AND THEODORA. 263 something practicable, we have always taken for granted that our heads were to have everything to do, and our hands nothing, excepting when we had that balf-in-fun talk about cooking, and I begin to believe we have been curiously blind, only I can t as yet see my way quite clearly. Can you think of anything we could make, that people would buy ? Do you think they would buy jelly ? " " You must give me a little time you always were an overwhelming sort of creature," said Jane, laughing at Do ris s impetuosity ; " you see, your idea is one I can t quite endorse it staggers me a little. What are brains and the cultivation of them good for, if one has to resort to main strength and stupidity at the first need for action ? " " Some people might think that the brains would come in usefully to keep the main strength from being wasted through stupidity," said Doris, a little annoyed by Jane s charge of overwhelmingness she had fancied of late that she had grown so very sedate and sensible. "And besides, if the community will not buy diamonds and will buy pota toes, a wise merchant will invest in potatoes. We should no doubt make magnificent teachers, but the first requisite for the success of a magnificent teacher is scholars. And per haps you and I will be a famous artist and composer, one of these days ; but in the meantime I, at least, should like a little money." "And so should I, dear. You ve heard about papa, of course. I mentioned in my note how sorry I was that your father was in the same unlucky boat. Papa had a little money in some safe place if any place but an old stocking is safe just now but the plantation has gone behind so this year that he is feeling very much discouraged, and I am wishing more than ever that I could think of some imme diate way of making money, which did not require an invest ment to start it. I know of a number of brilliant possibilities, 264 DORIS AND THEODORA. which only want a few thousands to set them in motion, but I don t seem able to command the thousands at this present writing." Clara Barrett was much more quiet and reserved than Jane, and, after her first pleasant greeting to Doris, she had listened with interest to all that was said, but had taken little or no share in the conversation. Now, however, she spoke, with some diffidence about the reception of what she said: "I thought of something some time ago, but I was not certain that it was worth while ; and, as Doris says, all your plans have left all sorts of handwork entirely out but if you care to hear, I have my idea in portable shape, and shall be happy to hand it over." " Of course we care to hear," said Doris, warmly ; " you always did do the thinking while we did the talking, you know." Clara looked pleased with this frank tribute, and proceed ed to expound her idea. " You know," she said, " how cheap both fruit and sugar are here, and yet what an inferior quality of jelly and pre serves is made for exportation! So often people who are stopping for a little while in the Island exclaim about the home-made guava jelly, and say they wish that it could be bought. Mamma has given away quantities, and everybody has seemed so delighted with it, that I am sure it would be largely bought, if it were offered for sale; and besides, I think we could dispose of it in the States, if we could learn the name of some large fancy-grocer, or some merchant of that kind." "Clara, you are a hitherto unrecognized genius!" cried Doris, delightedly. "We could begin on ever so small a scale, right in our own houses, without any machinery but a bell-metal kettle and a jelly-bag, and our first sale would DORIS AND THEODORA. 265 provide the capital for a larger venture, as we said that time we talked of it. Oh, Jeanie, I believe it could really be done ! " Mr. and Mrs. Barrett and Leonard had stopped their con versation to listen, as Clara expounded her theory, and now Mr. Barrett, with an amused smile, said : " Hadn t you better make it a partnership affair? You could begin with a dozen jars, then, and divide the risk among you." "Oh, you may laugh, papa," said Jane, stoutly, "but we are too much in earnest to be laughed down, and, unless you and mamma positively forbid it, that first dozen will be tried very soon." " We shall not forbid it, dear," said Mrs. Barrett, gently, " if you will only undertake it in a moderate and sensible manner ; I see no reason, and I do not believe that Doris s mother will see any, why you should not be permitted to make a little money for yourselves, until times mend, and we can supply your wishes as well as your wants. But you must count the cost first, not in money alone, but in time and patience, and not let yourselves be carried away by ex citement." "I think that is just what mamma would say," replied Doris, " and I mean to try to be very sensible and business like, and only run the smallest possible risk just at first." Leonard was silent, and Doris was sure, from the expres sion of his face, that Clara s idea had found no favor with him, so as soon as it was possible she changed the subject; she could pursue it with Jeanie another time, and she hoped to be able to convince Leonard in the meantime. He con sulted with Mr. Barrett, before they left the house, upon the expediency of importing white laborers, but the latter did not encourage the project ; he thought that it would excite much jealousy and ill-feeling among the negroes, and that, 266 DORIS AND THEODORA. unless a very large number were brought out, they would probably be either openly attacked or secretly annoyed. Leonard was much disappointed, but he lyiew that Mr. Barrett s judgment in the matter was much more to be relied upon than his own, and he resolved to wait patiently and observe closely, and also to ask the opinion of some of the other planters. The evening passed only too swiftly, and Doris, afraid that her mother would lie awake listening for her return, sprang up at the stroke of ten o clock, and hurried Leonard off. They talked for a little while about the beauty of the evening and the pleasantness of their friends, but presently Leonard said, abruptly : "I wish you would leave Clara in full possession of her crazy little plan, dear. I said nothing of what I thought of it there, of course ; but I was very much surprised to hear Mr. Barrett give even a qualified permission, for he is still well and strong, if he is no longer very young, and quite able to work for his wife and daughters." " I don t wish to displease you, dear brother," said Doris, gently, "but indeed I think you are mistaken in your ideas about what women ought, or rather ought not, to do. If you could only realize what a wearing and fretting thing it is to have to turn every penny twice before one spends it, and to see so much going wrong for want of a little money to set it right, you would acknowledge, I think, that almost any sort of work would be a preferable alternative." "Perhaps I should," he replied. "I don t wish to dis please you, either, my dear ; and I am so far from being able to help you, just yet, at any rate, as I would like to help you, that I have no right to dictate. One of the things which I have always noticed about Aunt Agnes is, that she makes people happy in their own way, whenever that is DORIS AND THEODORA. 267 possible, instead of in hers ; and if it is really going to add to your happiness to make an attempt of this kind, I have nothing to say. But I shall watch very closely to see that you are not overworking yourself, and if I think you are, I shall promptly report you at headquarters. I give you fair warning!" "Forewarned is forearmed," said Doris, laughing, "and I shall carefully conceal the ravages of overwork, if I am obliged to resort to paint and powder! " "Very well," said Leonard, in the same tone; "you have now yourself apprised me of the danger-signal. I shall sur reptitiously rub your fair face with a dark-blue handkerchief at least once a day, and if any powder comes off, I shall promptly use it to explode your wild undertaking; so be ware, young woman, beware!" So, laughing and talking as lightly as if the burden of care and disappointment were not to be resumed upon the morrow, they finished their drive, and found Cudjoe "wait ing patiently about " to take the tired horse, well rewarded by the kind words of praise and thanks which were given him for his ingenuity about the chaise. The house was quiet, but Pareen was coiled up on a rug before "Miss Agnes V door, sleeping the light sleep for which Leonard declared she ought to take out a patent, for she always main tained that it rested her as much when she w r as interrupted every hour, as it did when she had an unbroken night s rest. As Hagar grew older and more infirm, Pareen was quietly stepping into her place, but with much more energy and decision of character than her mother had ever shown. She would not have been content to go to bed before Doris returned, and she gave a cheerful report of her master and mistress as she lighted Doris s candle and helped her to take off her dress. Doris sometimes accused herself of weak-mindedness for allowing Pareen still to continue such 268 DORIS AND THEODORA. little services as these when there was so much real work to be done, but always arrived at the conclusion that Pareen, rather than she herself, would suffer, were they to be discon tinued she so evidently enjoyed this last half-hour with her little mistress, and saved so many subjects of conversation for it. Mrs. Campbell was at first inclined to take Leonard s view of the preserving scheme, but when she found how Doris s heart was set upon it, and how moderately and sensibly the beginning was to be made, she offered no opposition. Hagar was very skillful at this sort of work, and liked to do it ; so that Doris would be able to have it done, so long as she only required it done on a small scale, without any trouble or fatigue to herself. This was a little disappoint ment to her at first, for, in her zeal, she had wished to work as well as plan ; but she yielded, as she so often did, her own wish to her mother s, and, as usual, was glad enough, before long, that she had done so, for her hands had been tolerably full before this new idea had occurred to her. Besides, that which would have been toilsome and tedious to her was light and easy to Hagar s practised hands. The only outlay needed at the beginning would be for jars, and even this would have been unnecessary had not the store-room been burned. Doris wisely contented herself with two dozen jars to begin with ; it would be time enough to buy more when these should be disposed of. She had had a pleas ant speaking acquaintance, as long as she could remem ber, with the old merchant in Frederickstadt who kept an exceedingly miscellaneous assortment of goods, and he cheer fully undertook to offer her wares for sale, assuring her, good-humoredly, that he would not demand all the profits for his percentage. In reality, he kept no percentage at all; but he knew it would distress her to know this, and she was too unsuspicious, and too new to the business, to question DORIS AND THEODORA. 269 him closely. Her delight and surprise were equal when he reported to her, at the end of a week, that the whole two dozen had sold readily, and handed her, " with all expenses deducted," as he gravely informed her, a sum which more than doubled that spent for the jars and fruit, calculating the latter at usual market prices. It must be admitted that this sudden success turned her head a little, and, but for her mother s gentle restraint, she would probably have launched forth on a rather imprudent cruise ; but she was obliged to admit that " he who goes softly goes safely," and limited her next venture to four dozen jars. These also were sold, in a longer time than it had taken to dispose of the first venture, but still with reasonable promptness, and Mr. Andersen, the old merchant, gave her, besides the money, information which was quite as good. It had occurred to him at once, when Doris opened negotiations, that an arrangement might he made with a wholesale grocer in New York from whom he purchased supplies, and he had written as soon as he had seen the jelly, and could vouch for its superiority over that made in the factories. The answer had been favorable, for although the New York merchant offered a lower price than could be obtained from visitors to the Island, he proposed to take a gross of jars or tumblers as soon as " the manufac turer " chose to send it, and, should this amount prove satis factory and sell well, he would accept all that she chose to send, not exceeding an average of a gross a month. The keen pleasure which Doris felt upon hearing this was some thing she always remembered. Now, she felt sure, was the time to combine forces with Jane and Clara. Jane had already disposed of a few jars in another shop, but not upon such good terms as Mr. Andersen had made with Doris, and she was only too glad to feel that she was working for a certainty. A council was held, but although they tried to think of some plan by which they 270 DORIS AND THEODORA. might work together, they could hit upon none which seemed practicable, so they reluctantly agreed that, for the present at least, they must be content to work separately for the same object, and report progress to each other as fre quently as might be. Pareen, deeply interested in all that concerned her young mistress, made time to help her mother, and her eager activity seemed to put new life into Ilagar. The partners had the gross ready for shipment in two weeks from the time when the order was received. Jane and Clara brought their share to Mr. Campbell s, where Cudjoe s dexterous hands made and packed the neat boxes. There had been a lively discussion as to whether it would be better to use small boxes, such as were used in the factories, or the more attractive-looking tumblers and jars, and the decision had been in favor of the latter. Doris had applied to Mr. Andersen for the requisite num ber, and he had sold them to her at a price which even she suspected was below their market value, but he reminded her that she had never bought anything at wholesale before, and added that if she meant to make a successful business woman she might beat prices down, but never try to make people raise them. The firm had an anxious four weeks, after the jelly was shipped, but not by any means an idle one. Clara was not so strong and vigorous as Jane, and, although she tried bravely to conceal the faintness and fatigue which followed her unwonted exertions, the watchful eyes of her parents and sister were too keen for her to succeed, and it was agreed that she must either retire from the firm, or limit her work to the manufacture and inscription of labels and covers. The disap pointment to her was very great ; and her mother, more with a view to her consolation than with any idea of profit, suggested that she should finish a piece of delicate embroidery on linen, DORIS AND THEODORA. 271 which she had been for some time working at, and place it for sale in a small dry-goods and trimming shop in Fred- erickstadt, which was in great favor with the planters wives and daughters, as well as with many of the citizens. This she did, and not only did her pretty work sell promptly, but she very soon received an order for a similar piece, and nothing could so have consoled her for her disappoint ment. The tidings which the eager girls at last received from the New York merchant were most encouraging. He was de lighted with the jelly, which, he said, was entirely different from any which had ever come in his way before ; it was selling readily, and he should be glad to receive more at the earliest convenience of "the manufacturer." He enclosed the sum agreed upon, and offered to procure for them, at reduced rates, as many gross of jars and tumblers as they wished to order, adding that he could deduct payment for them from his next remittance for jelly. This would be a real help, and the offer was immediately and joyfully ac cepted by Clara, who had been appointed secretary of the company, and who, with an old letter of her fathers for a copy, was earnestly endeavoring to acquire a " business- hand." Doris could not, or did not, help triumphing a little over Leonard, at the present and prospective success of their en terprise, but, while he admitted all that she wished him to admit, upon that head, he maintained that he disliked to see her so employed, and begged her to reconsider the matter, before pledging herself in any way for a continuance of the undertaking. But Doris was less than ever inclined to give it up now, and laughingly refuted all his arguments, saying that when he gave up the plantation, she would give up her jelly. He was incessantly busy now, but so far with no very 73 DORIS AND THEODORA. encouraging results. No one had thought it advisable to import white laborers ; the negroes, with very few excep tions, grew less and less trustworthy, and Leonard was be coming reluctantly convinced that the sale of the plantation was the only real hope. He said nothing, as yet, of his conviction to his aunt or Doris, much less to his uncle, who grew daily more feeble, and less able to understand his affairs, for it did not seem at all probable, just now, that any one would make a good offer, and meanwhile, he still had a faint hope that matters might improve. All talk of the new house was abandoned, save by Mr. Campbell, who continued to plan and arrange, in happy ignorance of the real state of things. He daily grew weaker, both in body and mind ; but gradually, after Leonard s arrival, he became more cheerful and contented. He list ened with deep interest to all that was told him, but forgot it almost immediately, so that Leonard gave up all attempts to keep him conversant with the daily business. He did this with his aunt s full sanction, but very reluctantly, never theless. It seemed to kim almost like treason, to be con ducting his uncle s business-affairs entirely on his own responsibility, and it was only after repeated attempts had convinced him of the utter futility of it, that he gave up consulting Mr. Campbell, who always, when Leonard began to tell him anything, seemed, for a few minutes, entirely rational, but soon showed, by some irrelevant question, that it was impossible for him to think connectedly. Mrs. Campbell alone clung to the hope that his physical health might improve, and that with returning bodily strength, his mind might also strengthen; but Dr. Svensen could not encourage her in this hope, and to Doris and Leonard it was only too plain that Mr. Campbell failed daily. Doris saw and thought but little of any one outside her home, in these days. Mind and body were heavily taxed, DORIS AND THEODORA. 273 but she had the good sense to see that her health was a mat ter of importance to others as well as to herself, and to take as much care of it as she could, under the circumstances, so that those she loved best should not suffer needlessly through her. Leonard watched her closely, with the quick percep tion which affection gives, and lightened many of her bur dens all, indeed ; for where he could not give her material aid, he could and did give that which is almost as great, the aid of comforting sympathy. Jane Barrett came whenever she possibly could, but this was not very often, for her share of the jelly-making kept her busy, whenever she was not attending to home-affairs. Mr. Barrett was struggling bravely, and with some prospect of success, to keep his plantation, and establish it once more upon a paying basis, but to do this, the strictest economy was necessary, and Jane and Clara developed an amount of ingenuity and resource for which their mother and father could scarcely praise them enough ; but they laughingly de clared that Miss Robeston was the " first cause " of all that was practically clever in them, and that she deserved the praise. When Doris had time to think, she grieved much over the separation from Antoinette, who, while she grew no worse, grew no better either, and, although she never complained, felt keenly the loss of the visits which Doris and the Bar retts used so frequently to make her, in the happy days which they already began to call "old times." Doris had felt a nervous dread of the first meeting between Leonard and Hilda, and had at first been thankful for the non-appearance of the latter ; but when two or three weeks had passed, and still she did not come, Doris began to find the suspense and anxiety extremely irritating, and to wish the visit over. Leonard had been at home a month, when Hilda at last 274 DORIS AND THEODORA. called, and, although he was still unable to conquer his love for her, he was at least able to conceal the struggle, and the meeting which Doris had so dreaded was such a very quiet and common-place affair, that she felt a whimsical sense of disappointment, which culminated when Leonard, in even tones and well-chosen words, congratulated Hilda upon her engagement. Hilda s reply was equally appropriate, and made with perfect composure, and it did more to disenchant Leonard than all his reasoning with himself had effected. After this " trial-trip," as Doris felt it to be, Hilda re sumed her visits as if nothing had happened to interrupt them, and managed, in a very quiet and unobtrusive man ner, to convey many a small pleasure into Doris s monoto nous and anxious life, carefully choosing things which would carry with them no heavy sense of obligation ; sometimes it was a new book or magazine, sometimes a rare flower or basket of choice fruit, and sometimes a dainty bit of needle work or painting. It seemed to Doris, at first, as if she could not accept even these small favors from Hilda s hands, and her honest face revealed the struggle in her mind be tween the old habit of affection, and the new feeling of re sentment for Leonard. Hilda watched her for a moment with a half smile, and then said, gently: " Why should we quarrel, Doris ? You may at least believe in my regard for you and your mother and father, and will you not rest on that, for the present ? When I am gone, you can forget me as fast as you please, you know ; so don t deprive me of a little innocent pleasure in the mean time, my dear." " I can t forget you, and you know I can t, though I sometimes almost wish that I could," replied Doris, with a quiver of suppressed feeling in her voice; " and I can t help loving you, either, when you seem so like your old self. If I could only forget " she checked herself, just in time ; DORIS AND THEODORA. 275 it would be ungenerous, now, to remind Hilda of that word less confession. " It is an art that can be acquired," said Hilda, smiling placidly, and with a look of such entire unconsciousness that Doris was almost convinced that it could. One thing was clear discussions of this kind were worse than useless, and, after many mental struggles, Doris at last wisely decided to take what comfort she could from Hilda s evident and real affection for herself, and leave Leonard, since he appeared to be quite equal to the undertaking, to fight his own battle. But she still felt a pang of self- reproach whenever she found that she was again taking pleasure in Hilda s society, and tried to find something, afterward, which should give some special pleasure to Leon ard, by way of atoning to herself for the disloyalty ! And to Leonard, who could not help seeing through it, this mental process was both touching and amusing. CHAPTER XVII. DTJKINGr the long anxiety of Mr. Campbell s illness, and the struggle to restore the plantation to order and profitableness, Mr. Santon s letters grew more frequent, and less wholly devoted to musical topics. But he begged Doris to consider her studies postponed, not finally stopped, and seemed greatly pleased when she wrote him of the re sumption of her singing, to the accompaniment of the guitar. He had a sense of disappointment, now, if the answers to his letters were much delayed, or were shorter than usual, and Doris would have missed the letters, had they been suddenly discontinued, far more than she imag ined. They always brought a refreshing suggestion of the outside world, for he was a keen observer, and his opportu nities for observation were large. He was still playing for concerts, though not so frequently as he had done a few years ago, for he was beginning to make his mark as a com poser, and hoped to be able, before long, to relinquish both teaching and public performances. The latter, especially, he had never liked, and the prospect of freedom from them was very pleasant to him. He often spoke of his nephew, and always with warm affection and praise Victor was studying with a zeal which promised well, his uncle said, for his future. Doris wondered, sometimes, that Mr. Santon said nothing about revisiting the Island, but she felt little or no impatience to see him again. The preparations for Hilda s marriage were extensive, and went steadily on, but she rarely mentioned anything con nected with them to Doris, although her visits grew rather DORIS AND THEODORA. 077 more frequent, as the time for her departure drew near, and her thoughtful kindness increased. As Doris saw how com pletely Leonard appeared to have conquered himself with what quiet friendliness he and Hilda met and parted, she grew gradually reconciled to the inevitable, and even tried to persuade herself that she had, perhaps, been mistaken, and that Hilda had never really cared for him. That he had cared for her, Doris could not doubt, and she could not help feeling a little disappointed at the apparent ease with which he had given up his hopes, and accepted his fate. If Leonard, so much, as she believed him to be, above the average young man, could be thus readily cured of a heartbreak, she must renounce her faith in undying affection and constancy, and this she was very loth to do. Arid yet, she argued with herself, Leonard had no right to love Lieutenant Jansen s betrothed, much less his wife ! It was a puzzling business, and she finally decided to retain her theory for her own com fort, and drop the question of its invariable practicableness, at least for the present. Leonard certainly had been faith ful, so long as there was the slightest prospect that his faith fulness might, even in the remote future, be recognized and rewarded, and what more could be expected of a healthy and naturally cheerful young man, with nearly all his life before him? Leonard had not succeeded so well as Doris, and even Hilda, thought that he had, in overcoming useless regret, but the hard schooling through which he was passing was already bearing good fruit. He had come home, determined not to feel, all the time, that he was making a sacrifice, but to make it once for all, before he started, and cast the recol lection of it, so far as might be, entirely behind him. He wished earnestly to be a cheering and sustaining power to his beloved ones, and he knew that this would be impossible, if he were constantly brooding over what he had given up, 278 DORIS AND THEODORA. or rather postponed for them. So he made a business-like arrangement with himself that, so soon as his uncle s family should be safe, and free from difficulties, he would return to his studies. The mock-heroic never appealed to him, so he had no desire to sacrifice, permanently, the " Career " about which Doris and he still laughed and joked. He knew that one of two things must happen, within no very long time : either the plantation, under active and intelligent care, would radically improve, and he could leave it, with occasional supervision, under Doris s and Cudjoe s care, or it would go on deteriorating still more rapidly, and then, he felt confident, it would be better to be on the look-out for a purchaser, and part with it, even at some sacrifice. In the latter case, his uncle s family would, he hoped, de cide to come to the United States, and make a home there. Should Doris insist upon teaching, she would find opportu nities to do so such as could not possibly be found upon the Island; but he hoped that, in the event of their removal, a sufficient price to make this unnecessary might be obtained for the estate. Some few of the planters, who had been for tunate in securing earlier and more efficient service than their neighbors had been able to secure, were still flourish ing, and had even made good the slight losses which the rebellion had caused them. Among these was Mrs. Santon. She had relied, for many years, upon the care of an unusu ally trustworthy and successful overseer, and he had be stirred- himself in such good earnest, that the few vacant places among their laborers were filled before any great amount of damage was done. Their remoteness from the scene of the riot had been a strong point in their favor, and, although they did not know it, either at the time or after ward, the many kind and generous things which Antoinette had done, both personally and by proxy, among the negroes, in times of sickness and trouble, had wielded a strong influ- DORIS AND THEODORA. 279 ence, both in protecting them and their property, and in pro viding them with service afterward. But the most serious result to them was the decline in Antoinette s health which soon followed. She had felt no fears for herself, that night, but she had been terribly agitated about the danger and distress of her friends, and this agitation had much increased her feebleness. About Doris, especially, she had been greatly concerned. She missed, exceedingly, the visits and long talks, which had been among her chief pleasures, but over and above this, she grieved over the trouble which had come to her friend, as no trials of her own had power to make her grieve. She saw Doris, now, only at long intervals, and fancied that she looked, each time, paler, thinner, more marked with the fine lines of care and anxiety. At one of these rare meetings, when, Mr. Campbell being better and brighter than usual, Leonard had coaxed Doris to drive with him to Mrs. Santon s, Antoinette s unconscious gaze into her friend s face was so full of loving distress, that Doris asked, laughingly : " What is it, dear ? Did I forget to wash my face before I came, and do you see the key of the kitchen any where ?" " Oh Doris ! " and Antoinette smiled, but not heartily. " You know it isn t that," she said, " and perhaps I ought not to speak of it ; but it seems to me that, while you are taking care of everybody else, you are forgetting to take care of yourself. You certainly have grown thinner, since you were here last, and you have not half as much color in your cheeks as you used to have." " Of course I have grown thinner," said Doris, cheerfully, "for don t you see that, absurd as it is at my age, I have actually grown a little taller in the past year? And as for my color, a good deal of that was tan, and you ought to con- 280 DORIS AND THEODORA. gratulate me upon being rid of that. And there s not the slightest need of my taking care of myself mamma, and Leonard, and Hagar, and even Pareen and Cudjoe, are con tinually pouncing upon me and taking things out of my hands, until I am really filled with gratitude sometimes for being allowed to comb my own hair. What has set you wor rying about me, Toinette? It does not seem at all like you." "I suppose it is because I love you so much," replied An toinette, simply; "and yet I have been thinking lately, Doris, about that * casting all your care upon Him/ It seems easy enough, when it is only about one s self ; and I feel as if I must be very faithless and shallow to be able to do only the easy part, and fail when it comes to something really hard. For you see there is so little I can do for Him. Almost anybody could be patient and quiet, with all the love and care and attention that I receive, so that isn t much ; I have hardly time to think of a wish, before mamma divines it somehow, and, unless it is something quite impossible, ful fills it, too. And now, even when the pain is worst, Dr. Svensen has found a new medicine which makes it quite bearable, and Victor and uncle keep sending me every new contrivance they can find, to make reading and writing and going about possible to good-for-nothing people, so that I would have to be a perfect monster of ingratitude to be un happy and discontented ; and there is only just this one thing that really requires an effort, and in that I fail." Doris could not help thinking what a different estimate many people, placed in Antoinette s position, would put upon it. Her youth was passing away in painful days and wakeful nights, unmarked by any more active pleasures than those which could be brought within the compass of her darkened room, yet 110 one ever saw an expression of fretfulness mar DORIS AND THEODORA. 281 the sweet calm of her face, or heard an impatient word from her lips. Surely this was " true and laudable service." "I think you are too hard upon yourself, dear," said Do ris, gently; "you never complain about anything, and you have so much more time for thinking than most people have, that it would be no wonder if you were often to think your self into fretfulness and repining. Mamma said to me once, that while we should always be much more exacting with ourselves than we are with other people, we should try not to be more discouraged." "That is a comforting idea," said Antoinette, "and it sounds like your dear mother; but I have always or at least ever since I have been ill been afraid of making too much allowance for myself on the score of my illness. I can t put it into good words, but it seems to me that emer gencies, and hard places, and impossible-looking tasks are just the chances that are given us to come off * more than conquerors through Him who loved us. It is nothing for those who can walk at all to walk along level, well-made paths, with well shod feet ; but to keep on up the steep and rocky places, with bare feet and nothing to hold on by that is courage and endurance. What makes me feel often that I must be all wrong, is seeing how not only tranquilly, but joyfully, the really religions people go through everything that there is a peace which nothing outside can shake or destroy." " I know," replied Doris ; " I have seen the look you mean on a few faces, but very few. Old Mrs. Barrett s is one Jeanie s grandmother, you know and sometimes I think Clara is growing very like her. Jeanie looks like her, in one way, too; she has the same bright, resolute expression, but it will always, I think, be hard work for Jeanie to be resigned to anything she doesn t like you know she says resignation is often only a plausible name for laziness." 282 DORIS AND THEODORA. (< And so it is," said Antoinette, thoughtfully ; " and that is another trouble. I know quite well that if Dr. Svensen had not insisted, and kept on insisting, that I should be dressed and lie on the lounge whenever it was at all possible, I should gradually have lapsed into staying in bed altogether it is so much less troublesome. Yet I know I am better, morally as well as physically, for nearly every exertion I make, and I sometimes wonder how much more I could be driven to do under the pressure of a real necessity, and how much of my illness is due to thinking too much about my self." "Not a great deal of either, I fancy," said Doris, smiling because she felt a sudden rush of tears to her eyes, as she looked at the fragile little figure and pale, thin face, earnest with thought and feeling ; "and I m not afraid of spoiling you, Toinette, if I tell you of some of the good you do. I always feel like taking a fresh start after I have seen you it seems so wicked and ungrateful for me to fret and com plain about anything, when I am well and strong, and free to use my arms and legs as I please. And I have heard all the other girls say things of the same kind about your pa tience and cheerfulness. I am afraid that, if I were in your place, I should either be savagely cross or in the depths of despair all the time, and that I shouldn t care a pin what became of anybody but my precious self." "I dare say I should, if it had come suddenly," replied Antoinette ; " but you see I have been brought to where I am now by very small and slow degrees, so there has been time to make ready as I went along. I m very glad of what you tell me, Doris ; it will be a comfort to think of it some times ; but you all overvalue me, and think I am making much more heroic efforts than I am. You don t know you couldn t possibly imagine, unless you had tried it in the same way how lovely and good and kind everybody is. I DORIS AND THEODORA. 283 sometimes think that if I could be made well all in a minute, it would hardly compensate for all the things that I should lose. Dr. Svensen is always thinking of something a new book, or a poem that he asks me to translate, or some strange flower that he has picked up in one of his long rides. Tt was he, you know, who coaxed me to learn Danish, and he brings me such delightful things to read in that language. And Miss Christina so often sends me dainty little things she makes, or some pretty piece of needlework for my room. And all of you girls are so kind ! If I had no one at all but mamma and Victor and uncle, I should have no excuse for complaining, while they love me so much and do so much for me, and you see how many things I have beside." Doris did not answer immediately. She was thinking that, with some people, all that Antoinette had mentioned would have been weighed against the one great blessing health and found sadly wanting. Antoinette listened with the liveliest interest to Doris s account of the preserving scheme. She had a number of relatives in the United States, and she was upon the point of saying that she knew they would be glad of such an oppor tunity to obtain genuine home-made preserves; but a second thought kept her silent on that head she would write, and " secure a definite order, and that would be much better than an indefinite hope. This thoughtfulness for the comfort and pleasure of others, in small matters as well as in great, was one of the things which had gained and kept for her the many warm friends she possessed. She rarely spoke when silence was better than speech, or was silent when words could be made helpful, and her tact was unfailing. She imagined, in her humility, that kindness and pity caused the many attentions she so gratefully received; but pity and sym pathy soon exhaust themselves, if their object awakens no other feeling. 284 DORIS AND THEODORA. Although nothing very especial was said, during the visit, about Doris s own troubles, she went home with a feeling of new strength and patience. i I don t know how it is, mamma," she said to her mother that evening, "but Toinette seems to live in a different at mosphere from mine it s like being high up on a mountain, above the mists and clouds, and while I am with her I seem to be almost up there too, and to get little whiffs of the same air ; but I don t stay up some mean little feeling or other is sure to pull me down again very soon." Mrs. Campbell smiled at Doris s manner of expressing herself. "There are compensations everywhere," she said; " Toi nette is not to be wholly pitied for being safe folded from BO many of the evils and temptations that are in the world, and she has not resisted her discipline ; so it has had, or rather is having, its full effect." "Something she said to-day," continued Doris, "sent me off on a sort of bypath of the road her thought was tra\ 7 el- ing on. She was speaking of the possibility that she might, by a strenuous effort, accomplish more than she does; I don t suppose she could find any one to agree with her, and I sometimes feel as if Dr. Svensen were almost cruel for in sisting so upon her dressing and lying on the lounge, when she would be so much more comfortable in bed; but of course he knows best. So, from thinking how hard it is to tell if one is really doing one s utmost, I worked round to wondering how far it is right to struggle against what seems like an inevitable fate ; it seems to me so hard to define the boundary between resignation and laziness, and between res olution and rebellion." "It is hard, sometimes," replied her mother; "I have often found it so. But about the latter, I think we never need be afraid to persevere, so long as we can honestly ask DORIS AND THEODORA. 285 God to bless us in what we are undertaking, and can end our petition with Thy will be done/ We may wish very much for something, and yet have a higher wish that, if it is not for the best in every way, not only for ourselves but for others, our petition may be refused. Can you see what I mean ? " "Yes, mamma," said Doris, slowly; "I can see but I m not at all sure that I could do it. And about the other there doesn t seem to be any real test, does there ? Oh, I know why you are smiling, mamma you are thinking, There she is trying to generalize and classify and formu late, as usual now aren t you ? " "Something of that sort, perhaps. But it is not at all a bad thing to do, if only you do not carry it to excess. I do not think that you, personally, need ever be afraid that res ignation will degenerate into laziness, for you are naturally active, and a little fierce ; but if you ever should be, I know of no better cures than self-examination and prayer. The Holy Spirit can show us our real selves as nothing else can." Mr. Campbell had always seemed to like Hilda best of all of Doris s schoolmates, and now, although his failing mem ory did not retain the fact of her engagement for any length of time, he listened with ever-new interest when it was alluded to, and wished to hear all about it, asking generally the same questions. Once or twice he had added, with an expression of perplexity : " I suppose it is all right it must be, or Hilda would not have accepted him ; but I used to think I am almost sure that there was some one else whom Hilda used to fancy. Was there not, Doris ? " " There may have been, papa, when she was younger," Doris would answer, patiently, and then a few words on an other subject would suffice to divert his attention, and, to 286 DORIS AND THEODORA. Doris s great relief, Leonard had not happened to be present either time. As weeks and months went by, he was sur prised, and, to tell the truth, a little disappointed, to iind that the self-control which he had at first exercised was no longer necessary. He could meet Hilda without excitement, and part from her without regret. He even wondered a little, sometimes, that he had thought her so different from, so immensely superior to, all other women, and thought that perhaps her affection for a commonplace man was making her commonplace too. It was not jealousy which made him take this view of Lieutenant Jansen. The young Dane was cultivated, refined, and only a little indolent; but life had always been made a very easy thing for him. He had attained most of his wishes without having been obliged to make any special effort for their attainment ; never, until he saw and loved Hilda, had he met with any serious opposi tion. She had at first unconditionally refused him, and this refusal, instead of quenching his ardor, had fanned it into greater activity. Here, he said to himself, was at last a prize worth striving for, and with dogged determination, veiled by perfect tact, he began to strive. Hilda was at first amused, and more flattered than she imagined ; then she was struck by the contrast between Leonard s silent resignation to the probability of losing her and Lieutenant Jansen s fixed, and apparently unchangeable, purpose to win her. She was at last induced to modify her refusal into a sort of probation ; what followed this concession has already been told. She seemed happy enough now, in the calm and tranquil manner habitual to her. Her betrothed was both fond and proud of her, and would be prouder still when she shone in public as she meant to shine. She had chosen with wide-open eyes, and the curious sort of severity which she had always exer cised toward herself would keep her from looking backward or repining. Indeed, so thoroughly was she living the part DORIS AND THEODORA. 287 she had chosen, that Doris was often tempted to believe that the little scene in which Leonard s portrait had figured must have existed solely in her own imagination. In spite of all the indignant feeling which had afc one time threatened to replace and uproot her affection for Hilda, she had been gradually won back by the latters thoughtful kindness, which it seemed impossible to meet with resentment, or even resistance. Hilda had never been so demonstrative in her affection as she was now, and she had patiently borne with the fitfulness which, for .awhile, had characterized Doris s behavior to her, much as one bears with the humors of a little child or an invalid. To a nature like Doris s it was impossible, under these circumstances, to keep from being melted, and, long before Hilda s marriage occurred, they were nearly on their old footing again, with the difference of an increased tenderness and demonstrativeness on Hilda s part. Doris had a nervous apprehension that Hilda would ask her to be one of the bridesmaids; but in this she misjudged her friend. Hilda had far too much tact to commit such an awkwardness as this, and though it was a real grief to her to substitute another name for Doris s, she did not dream of asking Doris to serve in this capacity. Although, in many ways, time seemed to drag just now, yet the year of Hilda s engagement was over too quickly for every one but Lieutenant Jansen. Doris found that Leonard was quite ready to accompany her to the wedding, and that there was no danger that his appearance would in the least mar the festivities. The ceremony was to be performed in the Danish Lutheran church, to which both bride and groom belonged, and the splendor of the pageant was all the more striking by contrast with the rigid plainness of the little stone church, the only decorations of which were white wash and green Venetian shutters ! or rather, these were the only permanent ones. On the morning of the wedding, 288 DORIS AND THEODORA. Hilda s schoolmates made it beautiful with palm-branches and flowers, so that when the stately young bride went up the aisle in her shimmering satin and creamy lace, she seemed to be entering a bower. An uncle, her father s younger brother, whose home was in one of the neighboring islands, was to "give away the bride," so it was upon his arm that she leaned; and, as he was tall and commanding- looking, nothing marred the effect of the procession. Lieu tenant Jansen followed with Hilda s mother, a beautiful and stately woman of fifty; and the six bridesmaids, who had preceded them, deployed to right and left as they reached the open space in front of the pulpit, so leaving room in the center for the four principal actors, as to Doris they seemed to be. The service was solemn and impressive, and although Hilda grew very pale as it proceeded, she answered the good old minister s questions firmly and audibly, and without the least hesitation ; but Doris suddenly remembered a remark she had once heard about the wedding-service : " If the bride and groom were required to say I do instead of I will to the question about loving and cherishing, there would be fewer marriages or more willfully perjured people; but I will is indefinite as to time." Nobody could in the least doubt the groom s sentiments and intentions. His cheerful voice announced them with a ringing genuineness which did him credit, and evidently pleased and sustained his pale bride. There were no con gratulations in the church, save the fatherly kiss and warm clasp of the hand which the good old clergyman bestowed upon bride and groom before they turned away. Mrs. Ufling took her brother-in-law s arm and fell behind the bride and groom, the bridesmaids following now instead of leading. Jane Barrett and Christine Larsen were the only ones selected from among her schoolmates; the other four were cousins, two of them daughters of the uncle who had played DORIS AND THEODORA. 289 the part of father, and the other two daughters of a sister of her mother, who lived on the "north side" of the Island. They were all, excepting Christine, tall, fine-looking girls, but Hilda shone supremely beautiful among them, though the schoolmates whispered to each other that she looked more than ever like the "ice-maiden." The newly-married pair had arranged to have their wed ding on the sailing-day of one of the English vessels, and were to embark that same afternoon upon an extensive wedding-journey. Hilda was to see England and the Conti nent before settling permanently in her far northern home, and her bridesmaids laughingly declared that they coveted the first part of the programme far more than the second Denmark was so very, very far away! " But when it is my Hilda s home, then it will be Santa Cruz that will be so very, very far away," said the Lieu tenant, gayly, and quite oblivious of the shadow which fell upon his Hilda s face at the words. Doris saw it, and won dered at the courage which sustained Hilda to the very last. She still grew paler, until she was a snow-maiden rather than an ice-maiden, but she talked and smiled, and, some what to the surprise of all of them, exchanged promises to write with several of her schoolmates, Jane among the number. " But you will have such a magnificent amount of mate rial for letters," said Jane; "you need only sit down and dash off a description of a city, or a palace, or a ruin, which ever you have happened to see last, while we shall have nothing to tell, but where we walked or drove the evening before!" " You can tell me nothing too trifling to be of interest to me," replied Hilda, smiling faintly; "and you must not wait for extraordinary events it is of your every-day life that I shall like to hear." 13 290 DORIS AND THEODORA. She managed to call Doris aside for a moment, just before she left the room to change her dress. " You will write to me ? " she said briefly, holding Doris s hands in a firm clasp, as she spoke. "I don t know," replied Doris, hurriedly; "I shouldn t think oh, Hilda ! do you really wish me to ? " " Do you think I would ask it, if I did not ? But do as you please, Doris; I do not urge it, and it will give me no pleasure, if you do it against your will." "I did not mean that," said Doris, with increasing con fusion, "you know I didn t! And of course I will write, if you really want me to you always make me do as you wish, you know," she added, between laughing and crying. " Then come up with me now, and help me to make ready for that terrible voyage. Just think I have never sailed anywhere but in the harbor and a voyage to England, and then across that hideous Channel, and then to Denmark there will be nothing left of me at all ! " "Oh, yes, there will be !" said Doris, trying to speak as lightly as Hilda did, although it seemed to her that the lump in her throat grew larger every minute. "No amount of sea-sickness will really break your indomitable will, and you will arise from your ashes more imperious than ever, for having been put down for a brief season ! " The good-byes were said hurriedly, at the last, and Hilda shed no tears. Mrs. Ufling and her brother-in-law alone, of all the party, accompanied the travelers to the ship; the guests, excepting those who were to remain all night, dis persed soon after Hilda left the room, and Doris and Leon ard were on their way home before the short-lived twilight fell. Their talk, by the way, set Doris s mind completely and permanently at rest concerning Leonard; the cure was evidently effectual, and again Dora took herself to task for her whimsical regret that it should be so ! CHAPTER XVIII. A FTER the excitement attendant upon Hilda s marriage -A_ died away, it seemed to Doris that the days grew to be so exactly alike, that it was difficult to keep count of them; a week seemed like a month, in passing, and a month like a week, in looking back. Even Sunday made but a slight mark upon the calendar, for generally, now, Doris did not feel that she could be spared for even one service during the day, and although her father always listened, with pleased attention, while she read and sang to her mother, the read ing was a daily occurrence, and so failed to serve as a land mark. Mr. Campbell s mind wandered, now, so much, that it was impossible to hold anything like a rational conversa tion with him, and reading aloud, from an ordinary book or paper, failed to interest him for any length of time; but when the Bible was read, it seemed to touch a chord silent to all else, and this was an inexpressible comfort to his wife and daughter. It always seemed to soothe and comfort him when either of them sang, and more especially when they sang hymns. He was suffering no pain now, Dr. Svensen said, but there were times when his mental distress was far more painful to witness than physical would have been ; he had grown more tranquil and happy as he greAV weaker, and was touchingly grateful for and pleased with all that was done for him, but once in awhile there seemed to be a struggle in his clouded brain for its lost coherence and ascendency, followed by a despairing sense of his helplessness. At such times, it was very difficult to restore him to his ordinary cheerful 292 DORIS AND THEODORA. frame of mind, and the after effect upon her mother was such, that Doris doubly dreaded them. She herself was not con scious of the extent to which the long strain had worn upon her, and often reproached herself for short-comings which were entirely caused by increasing cares and duties, and de creasing strength. Mrs. Campbell watched, with silent distress, Doris s heroic efforts to be cheerful and to appear unencumbered and light- hearted, and did everything in her power to ease the young shoulders of their heavy burden; more than this, she re frained from adding a feather s weight to it by useless and aimless remonstrances and bewailings; she felt keenly her inability to be actively useful, but she little knew how help ful were her true and ever-ready sympathy, her intelligent interest, and the few words of loving praise and appreciation which always seemed to Doris to come when the way looked especially hard or long. Leonard, of course, was a tower of strength, both for his aunt and Doris, but even he was not so sanguine as he had been at first, and was growing less so every day. For it was becoming more and more evident to him, daily, that it would be impossible for the plantation to recover itself without an expenditure of more money than they had at their command, even should he give up the whole of his patrimony ; and he did not feel at all sure that, were every demand met, and everything about the place restored to order and complete ness, the future of the Island would be such as to return the outlay, much less a profit 011 it. Mr. Barrett and one or two of his friends were still hopeful, and the former had found no difficulty in borrowing enough money to keep on, at least for the present; but in this, Leonard was unwilling to imitate him, and Mrs. Campbell was even more so, for she had a horror of running in debt. Leonard had written to Mr. Santon, inquiring about the DORIS AND THEODORA. 293 possibility of either selling the plantation to some one in the United Sta/tes, or exchanging it for land there, and had re ceived a reply, holding out some encouragement, and prom ising to do all that lay withiii the writer s power to further the object. He had done this with his aunt s full sanction, for she could not help feeling apprehensive about the future support of her daughters; and she had, besides, a faint hope that such a total change of scene as the removal would involve might awaken Mr. Campbell s mind, and also do much for his physical health. Many times, when she had attempted to talk with^ him about it, she had been encouraged by a mo mentary attention and interest, but it was never more than momentary now, and the attempts always ended in disap pointment. A curious effect, however, of this frequent recurrence to the subject was that after awhile the idea that he was going somewhere seemed to take root, and he would frequently allude to it, sometimes with evident happiness and satisfac tion, and at others with a distressed groping for the rest of the plan. Occasionally he would fancy that he was to go alone, and he would beg his wife and daughters to go with him, quite satisfied, for the time, when they assured him that they would. It was curious, and touching as well, to see his delight in little Theo s society, and the unfailing sweetness and tact which she manifested toward him. She came to him with all her small plans and pleasures, drew him with her about the place to all her favorite haunts, and never seemed to weary of repeating anything that appeared to give him the smallest pleasure. She evidently had some theory about him which entirely satisfied her, but she was shy about expressing some of her ideas, and neither Mrs. Campbell nor Doris was put in possession of this one for some time. She had been sitting quiet one day for ten or 294 DORIS AND THEODORA. fifteen minutes, with the meditative look upon her little face which always greatly entertained Doris. Her mother was writing and Doris was copying some memoranda into the sort of day-book which she and Leonard conjointly kept, when Theo suddenly broke the silence with "But I do wish he d grow little faster. He would be much happier himself, and we could have ever so much bet ter times." " Oh, you extraordinary kitten ! " said Doris, looking up from her book with a laughing face; " what do you mean by all that fairy-story talk, I should like to know ? " I didn t know I was saying it out loud," replied the child, coloring with confusion; "I thought I only said it to my self. If you didn t laugh at me so, sister, I would often tell you things but you do, you know ! " " Yes, and it is too bad of me/* apologized Doris, com posing her face to a look of proper gravity; "but I really will not laugh this time, if you ll only tell me the rest of what you were saying just now." "You re quite, quite sure?" and Theo came close to Doris, resting her folded arms upon her older sister s knees, and gazing earnestly into her face. " Quite, quite sure just see how serious I am looking, before you have told me a thing about it! " "Yes, you are," said Theo, approvingly; "I d often or sometimes tell you things, if you d always look like that! It was about papa. You see, our Heavenly Father is letting him grow back into a dear little baby again, but it seems to me that his body doesn t grow little fast enough for him it must be so tiresome, to really be a little boy, and have to look like a big man. I understand all about it, of course, but a great many people don t, and they only worry him." Doris held her little sister close, and kissed her fervently, saying : DORIS AND THEODORA. 295 "It doesn t matter about other people, darling, if we un derstand ; and we must make dear papa so happy that he will not care what other people think or say, or that he can t be little like you. You know you are growing larger all the time, so if he were to grow smaller, you would not be alike long; while now, as soon as you grow tall, you will be alike in that, and stay so." "To be sure!" said Theo, brightening; "how stupid I was not to think about that. I m very glad I told you this time." " Wasn t it a beautiful thought, mamma ? " said Doris, after the child had left the room; "I wish every one meant it in that way, when they say people are childish. " Ah, if he were only always happy," said Mrs. Campbell, sadly, " we could be almost reconciled to the forgetfulness ; but it is so bitterly hard to be unable to comfort him." Doris had no reply for this but most loving caresses. But a still more tender feeling for her father resulted from little Theo s quaint confidence and the train of thought evoked by it. An unusually warm and dry summer, followed by exces sively high winds, affected Mr. Campbell s failing health most unfavorably, and he grew weaker rapidly, until he was entirely confined to his bed ; and Dr. Svensen said that, un less some very unlooked-for and improbable change for the better should occur soon, he could not live many days. With all that is said of the gradual preparation which a long illness makes, death is, and always will be, a surprise. The hope of even a partial recovery had now to be abandoned, and the separation from one who was a part of their daily lives faced. A great fear seized Doris, that the calmness with which her mother accepted the decree was owing to a conviction that the separation from her husband would be very short ; and this was partly true, but not wholly. Long 296 DORIS AND THEODORA. submission to chastening was yielding, in Mrs. Campbell s heart, " the peaceable fruit of righteousness " in a way which Doris could not as yet comprehend. They all hoped silently and prayed fervently that the en feebled mind might regain its power at the last, and leave them a comforting memory ; and this hope was fulfilled. For a few hours before the quiet sleep which ushered in death, Mr. Campbell was restored to them as he had been before his illness, which seemed to have left scarcely a recollection be hind it. He felt no fear of death, and his tender regret at leaving those so dear to him was almost conque red by a firm faith that they should meet again in that home whose inhab itants " go no more out forever." Leonard s presence seemed greatly to comfort him, and the few words he said about this made his nephew feel more than ever that Mrs. Campbell and her daughters were a sacred trust, to be guarded as he would have guarded his own mother and sister, had they lived. The funeral was very largely attended, for Mr. Campbell had had many warm personal friends, beside the business acquaintances, who had all respected his integrity of char acter. And after it was over came the dreary blank which always follows a death that has been preceded by a long ill ness when it seemed as if the object of all their lives had been suddenly taken away. Doris, especially, drooped under this feeling, and her mother was almost glad of the necessity which, now that she had entered upon it, compelled her to keep on at her new occupation. Jane came expressly to offer to undertake a double share of the work for a week or two, but to this very kind propo sal Doris would not listen for a moment. "It is just like you, Jeanie," she said, affectionately, when Jane insisted that she could "easily do it. * "But I am not going to let you disable yourself for me, my dear, and DORIS AND THEODORA. 297 you must not be troubled about it, for it really will be better for me to have something to do right away. I have not seemed to be able to settle to anything yet, and I am really glad of this necessity, so you must not worry about me." Jane was disappointed, for she had made the offer in thor oughly good faith ; but she had the common sense to see that Doris was right, and to urge the matter no farther. So Doris " took up the burden of life again," feeling as if youth were over now, and thankful for the occupation which kept her from thinking too much. Both she and Jane wished very much that they could be together, for they felt sure they could thus accomplish their work more quickly and easily. But this did not seem possible just now ; it was not always easy for either of them to obtain a horse, and, if it had been, too much time would be wasted in daily going and coming, and they could think of no equidistant place where they could carry on their work. Beside the standing order from the New York grocer, they were beginning to receive an encouraging number of private orders^and for these, upon consultation with Leonard, they decided to charge slightly higher rates. They were able now to buy both the sugar and glasses in quantities which materially reduced the cost, and they were debating the wisdom of em ploying more help, and accepting all orders. Doris was inclined to the opinion that it would be wiser to accept only such orders as they could fill with their present facilities ; her bright and sanguine spirit had been very much subdued by her father s death, and she dreaded anything that seemed like a great undertaking. But Jane was very hopeful, and anxious to let no opportunity slip; she had set her heart upon earning enough, not only to support herself, but to save something, month by month, until she had enough to go either to England or America, to complete her art educa tion. 298 DORIS AND THEODORA. " It is quite possible," she said to Doris, when she had mentioned her aspiration, " that I shall be a middle-aged woman by the time I have the money, but I mean to try for it all the same. I am sure I could paint respectably, and sell some of my paintings, if I could only manage to be properly instructed ; and I shall live like a miser till I succeed in my object, or prove that success is out of the question. I don t feel like trying to sell any more works of art until I can do better work. The remarkably frank letter that New York picture-dealer wrote me opened my eyes ; and if my work is crude, and far better in design than in execution, I pre fer not to be known by it I had much better make good jelly all my days than paint poor pictures." " That sounds exactly like Miss Anna," said Doris, smiling at Jane s energy. " I sometimes feel as if I must write and tell her how often I see fragments of her mind and character reflected in her ex-scholars ; it ought to please her to know how her influence continues to work." "It would, no doubt," replied Jane; "and yet I think that, if she were never allowed to see a single result of her work, she would keep on working all the same, and take a real pleasure in it. You are quite right about the "frag ments ; it would take six or seven of us to make one such woman as she is, and I m afraid one or two qualities would be lacking, even then!" "Now you know I did not mean that; but I am quite willing to subscribe to it, since you have taken the responsi bility of saying it. And there s no telling; perhaps, when some of us are as old as Miss Anna is, we shall be more than fragments. How I wish that she could have found some thing to do that would have kept her here she is so inspiring." " Yes, it would have been delightful for all of us ; but I think she must feel a little stifled in a place like this ; she DORIS AND THEODORA. 299 must be much more in her element, among pushing, enter prising, business-like people, Doris!" said Jane, with sud den fervor. " I wish we were there now ! Don t you ? " "I am not sure," said Doris, doubtfully. "I think I should be a little afraid. At any rate, I would rather prac tice enterprise quietly here, for awhile, before going to a place where everybody is enterprising, not only by education, but by nature." " But don t you see," argued Jane, " that the very atmos phere, there, would be almost enough to bring one up to the general level ? There must be so many worth-while people scattered all about, and their minds would sharpen ours to match them. Oh, how I wish that papa could sell the place, and begin all over again, there." "That is just it," said Doris, sadly; "even Archimedes couldn t move the world, without a place upon which to rest his lever." Mr. Barrett, in common with all the planters who were not prospering, was quite willing to sell his estate, if he could obtain anything like a reasonable price for it ; but real estate was a drug in the market just now, owing, partly, to the great and increasing difficulty of obtaining servants and laborers of the right sort. Leonard lost patience twenty times a day over the "fecklessness" of most of the negroes in his employ ; and even the house-servants were no longer what they used to be. It was this fact which made Doris hesitate when Jane proposed enlarging their business. Even if they could find a convenient and suitable place for carry ing it on, it was somewhat doubtful if they could procure the right sort of assistance. In former times, when the two girls were schoolmates, Doris had almost always been fore most in any new enterprise, and Jane had generally preferred to wait, before taking up with fresh plans or ideas, until, as she said, she "saw hcfw they worked." But now they 300 DORIS AND THEODORA. seemed in a measure to have exchanged characters. Trouble had subdued and intimidated Doris, for the time being ; if it had been only money-trouble, she would have felt quite able to cope with it, but the nature of her father s illness, and its end in death, instead of the at least partial recovery for which she had hoped against hope, had weighted her spirit too heavily for an immediate reaction and re covery. On the other hand, the need for action which had come into Jane s life had concentrated her abilities, and given her the strong motive which had before been wanting. Doris was often amused at the plans and projects devised by Jane s active brain, and Jane complained that Doris always pounced upon the "thin places" in them, and managed to show that they were impracticable. Generally speaking, the thinnest of the thin places was a want of capital as, for instance, when Jane proposed to open an " International Intelligence Office," and import negroes from Africa, and coolies from China. Another of her brilliant ideas was to establish an agent in New York, and pay him a moderate salary to sell their jellies and preserves. There was no doubt that, after the first outlay, this arrangement would bring them in larger returns than they received under the present one, but there was that vexatious first outlay again ! Meantime, both of the girls managed to put by something out of every payment they received, and Jane declared that, if Doris kept on veto ing all her proposals for a year or two longer, they would have enough money saved for any one of them. Jane did very little painting in these days, partly because she had become dissatisfied with her work, and convinced that she was in need of much more instruction, and partly because, while she was sure of selling her jelly, she was by no means so sure in regard to her drawings and paintings. The project of which she now talked most, was that of going DORIS AND THEODORA. 301 to America, so soon as they had enough money laid by to pay their passage ; and when Doris suggested that it might be as well to wait until they had enough also to pay their board for two or three weeks, in case they should not at once find something to do, Jane assured her that one week s board would be amply sufficient ! "But, you see," Doris said, "the trouble usually is, that people will not take any employment but just some one thing that they think they do best, when in reality there are numbers of things which women can do. Now, I know I have sense enough to learn to do any sort of factory-work, or I could begin at low wages with a confectioner or fancy cake-baker, and very soon learn the business ; or I could be cook to a small family, or child s nurse. You needn t turn up your proud little nose, Miss of course T shouldn t choose any of these interesting avocations for a permanency, but I think I have learned that the mistake that most women, and some men, make, in shaping their lives, is this waiting in idleness. It isn t the waiting that is the trouble, it s the idleness. One could certainly, always, find some kind of work." " But, Doris," said Jeanie, " don t you think that some times people make it almost impossible that they should succeed at their real calling, by frittering themselves away on work of a lower order ? " " Not the worth-while ones. Of the two classes, I should say the idlers were the ones who made success almost impos sible for themselves. A habit of working, and sticking at it, is half the battle in any trade, calling, or profession, and can be turned into another channel at short notice, by an intelli gent person, and a habit of idleness is a mill-stone about the neck of the most brilliant and gifted person imaginable. One can do a good deal of practising and training, too, for one s chosen calling, even when most of one s time is occu pied with something else ; hand-work leaves the mind free, 302 DORIS AND THEODORA. although I sometimes wish it did not," said Doris, "and that it were completely absorbing, deadening one s senses to everything else. I am so tired of thinking around the same disheartening circle, day after day, without the least result." "But there will be a result!" said Jane, resolutely. " There is a hole in the circle somewhere, and we shall find it, one of these days. I have heard one or two encouraging rumors, lately, about some American speculators who are said to be on the Island buying up real estate. If the plan tations could only be sold for decent prices, that would give us all the money we need to take us to America, and give us some choice as to what we will do there. But I mean to keep on working and saving, just the same, and if no other way opens, I shall have enough, in time, at least to pay my passage." " But think how old you will be ! " said Doris, smiling ; " quite too old to set forth upon a new enterprise in a new country ! " " Don t be absurd, dear," replied Jane. " I am not quite twenty, now; and even at the present rate of procedure, I shall have the money before I am twenty-five, and I shall probably have more sense and ability then than I have now." <e Appalling thought ! You overwhelm me, now, and make me feel very ineffective. I shall endeavor to keep out of your way when you are twenty-five." " It will be useless. I shall follow you up, wherever you may be, if only to make you acknowledge that I am right." Shortly after this talk, " the firm " received a letter from another New York grocer, asking if they could furnish him with the same amount of jelly and preserved fruits that they sent to Mr. Turner, their first patron, every month. Again there was a discussion as to ways and means. Doris was free, now, to be absent from home at least a part of every DORIS AND THEODORA. 303 day, and Jane could command most of her own time. Hagar and Pareen were becoming more and more expert and trustworthy, and the chief, almost the only difficulty in the way of launching out upon a wider enterprise, was that of finding a suitable place for the conduct of their manufac tures. This difficulty was promptly obviated by a call from Christine Larsen, who came to offer them the free use of the old sugar-house. She had heard of their opportunity and the attendant difficulty from Antoinette, and hastened to remove the latter. The building was still in sufficiently good repair to answer their purpose, and was a little more conveniently situated for Doris than for Jane, which, Chris tine said, was, under the circumstances, "just right." She would not listen to a word about any payment of rent, insist ing that no use was made of the place, and that if they chose to let Cudjoe make the few necessary repairs and arrangements before they began, that would be ample pay ment ; so, after consulting their families, and obtaining a somewhat reluctant permission to make the experiment, they gratefully accepted Christine s generous offer, and began their preparations at once. Mrs. Campbell, having once consented, did not spoil her consent with forebodings as to the result, but with warm interest consulted with and advised Doris, proposing that Hagar and Pareen should be regularly installed at the sugar-house, and one or two women hired to fill their places at home, as their skill was un doubted, and it might be difficult to find their equals for this especial work. This was done, and henceforth the wages of the two were to come from " the firm." A stout and willing negro woman, to work under their direction, was also hired, and then the enterprise was started, very quietly, and without any public notification of the opening day. CHAPTER XIX. FOR a year after his return to the Island, Leonard strove, with all the patience he could muster, to direct the work in a profitable manner, but discouragements thickened, and the end of the year found him just where he was at the beginning, and he was thankful to know that the plantation was out of debt ; all his efforts had resulted only in making the running expenses. Common-sense, of which he had, fortunately, a rather unusual share, told him that an invest ment of all his time, strength, and energy which brought no better return than this, was in no sense a paying investment, but the difficulty of disposing of the plantation in a manner which would yield his aunt and cousins a living still re mained, for of course their living, and his own too, had been supplied, and if this were not money it was money s worth. The subject was freely and frequently discussed between Mrs. Campbell, Doris, and Leonard, and the latter was very glad to find that his aunt had no wish to remain on the plantation, or even on the Island. She missed her husband daily and hourly, and it often seemed to her that, while she should think of him no less, she could more easily endure his loss among scenes with which he was not associated. The last sad and clouded months of his life were no longer most prominent in her mind, but their memory was gradually being replaced by recollections of the many happy years which had preceded them. Every nook and corner of the plantation recalled some scene in which he had taken part, until sometimes it seemed to her that her homesick longing to follow him must take her to him. And yet, whenever DORIS AND THEODORA. 305 this longing was strongest, her heart turned self-reproach- fnlly to her three beloved and loving children, who, by every tender and thoughtful care they could devise, strove to com fort and cheer her, and she felt that she still had much to live for. Little Theo, with a though tfulness far beyond her years, began to try, during Doris s daily absence at the sugar- house, to fill her place in many ways, more than content with the loving praise which rewarded her efforts. She read aloud to her mother, carried orders and messages to the serv ants, and was quick to divine Mrs. Campbell s wants and wishes. Gentle and quiet in her ways, she was yet a merry little thing, and, without in the least knowing it, did more than any one else to keep the house bright and cheerful. She was very unlike what Doris had been at her age, for she cared little for out-door plays and pleasures, her chief diver sion being a beloved doll, of which she never wearied. Doris had taken a warm interest in dolls, but not in "make- believe " of any sort, and she was often not a little puzzled by Theo s vagaries, and inclined to check the child. But this Mrs. Campbell would not permit, trying, on the con trary, to convince Doris that there was a wide difference between imagination and untruthful ness. " But, mamma," said Doris one day, with some little vex ation, when the case in point had been a long conversation between Theo and a certain white hen which followed the child about with absurd tame ness and devotion, " it seems to me she ought not to be encouraged when she says such preposterously untrue things. Why, she was just as grave as a judge all the while that she was reporting what i Toppy had told her about a chicken-party she attended last night, and she really seemed as if she were trying to make us believe her nonsense ! How can we know whether or not she is telling the truth about anything ?" " Dear daughter," said Mrs. Campbell, gently, and ignor- 306 DORIS AND THEODORA. ing Doris s rather mixed manner of speaking, which left it doubtful as to whether Theo or Toppy were the culprit, " be just. You know that your little sister is the soul of honor and trustworthiness, that she has never resorted to the least untruth to serve any purpose of her own, and I can always tell, as you could if you wished to, when she is romancing. She has no deceit in all her pure little heart, and I wish you to be very careful not to suggest it to her. I cannot remember the exact words, but good old Jeremy Taylor s definition of a lie is something like this : That which is known to be untrue, told with the intention of deceiving? Theo has no such intention, but she has always loved fables and fairy stories, and she evidently puts her funny little narratives in the same category. Do not give me the sorrow of seeing you alienate her from you, dear, as you assuredly will, if you persist in this harsh judgment of her." "I didn t mean to be harsh, mamma, but I am afraid I often am," said Doris, penitently. "You know papa and Leonard used to have many a good laugh over my literal- ness, and I m afraid I grow worse as I grow older. I know Theo is truthful about all real things, and I ought not to worry over the others; but I suppose the fact of the busi ness is, that I have been provoked more than once lately to find myself listening seriously, and thinking the child was speaking in earnest, when she was leading up to some utterly senseless make-believe. Perhaps it has irritated me more because real things have gone so hardly with us of late." "No doubt it has," replied Mrs. Campbell; "but, dar ling, there is just where one of your dangers will always lie in trying to fit all your surroundings to your own stand ard. The world is a very large place, and we have need to learn early that conformity to the wants and wishes of it, DORIS AND THEODORA. 307 wherever no sacrifice of conscience is made, will both give and receive far more happiness than resistance and intoler ance will. Try to believe that people can find happiness in many things which would yield none to you, or you will be meeting with rubs and bumps at every turn. We must learn to look on at happiness, and take an outside pleasure in it, or life will be a dreary thing to many of us after our first youth is past." "Ah, mamma," said Doris, wistfully, "how truly you do that! But I shall have to hammer at myself to the end of my days yes, even if I should live to be a hundred years old!" " But He giveth more grace, " said Mrs. Campbell, "and if I have achieved any victory, it has been through that. We only fail, when we fail to take the grace and strength so freely offered, darling." Doris made a valiant effort, after this talk with her mother, not only to tolerate Theo s happy nonsense, but to interest herself in it, and was soon rewarded by the breaking down of a sort of shy reserve which Theo had heretofore manifested. The child had felt, without speaking of it, the disapproval which Doris had so often shown, and it had chilled her ; now, she began to come as freely to her older sister, as she had always done to her mother, with her won derful experiences and projects, and Doris was often sur prised at the vein of common sense and practicality which underlay the vivid imagination. To Leonard, Theo was an ever-fresh delight ; he never wearied of her narratives, and, when she did not feel that she was wanted in the house, she trotted about the plantation with him, "helping" him in the room which he had fitted up with a carpenter s bench and lathe, and made very proud and happy when he gave her anything to do for him. She had a boy s fondness for whittling, which Leonard encouraged, as soon as he saw 308 DORIS AND THEODORA. that it was not aimless, and that she was remarkably clever at it. Queer-looking animals, and grotesque little dolls, were the results of her work, at first, but with practice, her hands grew more skilful to carry out the designs of her busy brain, until the figures and small panels which she cut were so pretty as to attract attention from more than one visitor. As soon as she found that her work was admired, it became her delight to make gifts of it, and she devoted more and more time to the workshop, where Leonard helped her in every possible way, choosing suitable wood for her work, constructing a small lathe for her, and doing whatever re quired the use of tools too large and heavy for her slender little hands. He was enthusiastic, to his aunt and Doris, about the talent and energy which the child displayed, and urged that her gift might be cultivated in every possible way. But Mrs. Campbell did not share his regret that there was no opportunity for this, just now, for she considered Theo much too young, as yet, to be set regularly to work, and bound down to fixed tasks and hours, and she begged Leonard to keep his little cousin with him, whenever it was possible, as he went about the plantation, and to discourage her from working long at a time. The receipts from " the firm " were beginning, now, to be really worth while ; Clara, Jane, and Doris took the super vision in turn, a week at a time, so that it came less heavily on each of them. Clara s health was decidedly improving, and she had been allowed to make the trial, as, under the new arrangement, there was no longer any need for either of the partners to do any of the laborious work. A neat desk was fitted up in a corner divided from the rest of the space by a slight partition, and here the labels were cut and written. Jane had suggested having the labels printed, but Doris and Clara had overruled her; it was necessary that one of them should be at the sugar-house, while the work went DORIS AND THEODORA. 309 on, for Hagar and Pareen, while they were faithful and in telligent, were by no means infallible, and mistakes could not be afforded; and the time which was given to preparing the labels would be of little use for anything else, broken into, as it always and necessarily was, by attention to the work going on. " But printed labels would look so much more business like, and as if we were nourishing," pleaded Jane ; " I am sure they would make a better impression. Why do yon and Clara always hold me down, as soon as I begin to soar?" " My dear," said Doris, laughing at Jane s injured expres sion, " a kite without a tail is a helpless thing, no matter how good the breeze is. Clara and I are the useful bobs, which keep you steady, and really make your upward flight possible, while we seem to hinder it, and try to keep you down ; so be thankful for us, instead of reviling us ! " "That is a beautiful figure of speech," replied Jane, "but it does not satisfy me. If you would let me go just once, you should see whether I would * flop/ and the next time I have a brilliant idea, I mean to assume all the risk, and try it, in spite of the conservative element which is holding this concern back from fame and fortune ! " "Very well," said Doris, good-humoredly, "you are ex tremely grand, since that last division ; I am not at all sure that it would not do you good to lose a little of your wealth, so on those terms, if Clara is agreed, you shall carry out your next brilliant idea, unless it will endanger the credit of the firm. Shall we let her do it, Clara ? " "By all means," replied Clara, "unless it should be some thing entirely too magnificent. But I am inclined to think that, if we lay no restraint upon her, and she realizes that her splendid-possibility-fund is in danger, she will suddenly be- 310 DORIS AND THEODORA. come as conservative as we are. Do you remember about the sovereign, Jeanie ? " "You don t give me a chance to forget about it, you goose," said Jane, laughing, and coloring a little. " What was it?" inquired Doris; "I have heard you speak of it before, but I never knew what you meant." "I prefer to tell you myself, Doris," said Jane, as Clara was about to speak; "though it isn t worth telling, but Clara will be needlessly circumstantial! I had a sovereign given to me for a birthday-present, when I attained the ma ture age of six, and after proposing to buy a large number of impossible things with it, I slipped it down a mysterious crack in a rock, about which I had many imaginings, to keep myself from spending in haste, and repenting at leisure. It dawned upon me, just as my treasure disap peared, that I might find some difficulty in collecting it, and this presentiment was fulfilled. To the best of my knowl edge and belief, it is down there yet!" Doris laughed heartily. " I feel much safer about our capital now," she said, "for when it comes down to facts, Jeanie, you are far more conservative than either of us ! So we will just let you talk, with easy minds." "Don t be too easy," said Jane, warningly. "It is many years since I lost my sovereign by way of saving it, and I have grown much more daring since then. I give up, for the present at least, about the labels; but I will carry out my very next inspiration if it bankrupts me!" This threat seemed to have a restraining influence upon Jane s imagination, for several weeks passed without any fresh announcement from her, and Doris and Clara laugh ingly declared that she was afraid of herself. They were well content to plod steadily on; if the gain was small, so was the risk, and the management became more easy from DORIS AND THEODORA. 311 week to week, as Hagar and Pareen gained experience. They frequently received small orders, now, from visitors to the Island, and one or two more came from New York firms, for the great pains which they took to keep up the quality of their wares were by no means thrown away, and before they had occupied the sugar-house long, they were obliged to hire another assistant. But by this time they had learned how to direct the work so that it was much more economic ally done than it had been at first, so that, with increasing profits, they could afford the expense of another helper. Their enterprise was beginning to be talked of, for, quietly as it had been conducted, it could not have been kept secret even had they so wished, and visits were now quite frequent, not only from their friends but from perfect strangers. " I declare, Doris, I am tempted to print a huge sign with the legend, * No admittance except on business, and hang it like a screen in front of the desk!" exclaimed Jane one morning when interruptions had been frequent and annoy ing. "We have some rights which the public is bound to respect, if it could only be made aware of it ! Don t you think we had better have the sign ?" "No," said Doris, laughing at Jane s tragic air, "not just yet, anyhow. Did you hear what that nice old lady said the one who ordered three dozen ? " "Yes, I heard, and my soul was filled with remorse, for it was to you that she said it, and if you had not happened to come just as you did, I do not believe she would have ordered a single jar, for I did not feel at all obliging to-day." " I am very glad that I came, then," replied Doris. " I was grumbling a little to myself for not having finished that lot of labels while I was here last week; but I am quite resigned now, for my old lady promised to send me some more people, and I think she will do it." 312 DORIS AND THEODORA. "Yes," said Jane, "you evidently made a conquest. And it was a happy thought to let her taste the jelly. You are a much better business-woman than I am, Doris, when it really comes to, as Hagar says." "No, not better, only different, Mamma says we make a very god firm, just because we are different. But, Jeanie, did you hear what my old lady Miss McConnell, her name is was saying to me while I showed her about i the manu factory, as she insisted on calling the dear old sugar- house ? " " No, I was busy here in the office with that little tangle in the accounts, which I am happy to say is all straight now, and I paid small attention to them beyond wishing them all in Halifax. What was it? Anything worth while?" " I don t know," said Doris, thoughtfully. " People some times say things, on the spur of the moment, which they quite mean at the time, and then go away and forget all about it. She did not question me at all impertinently, but she seemed so interested, and was so nice and kind, that I told her more than I should have imagined I would tell to a stranger about our affairs and how we came to enter upon this undertaking. It seems she knows Mr. Santon quite well not Victor, you know, but his uncle and he must have told her a great deal about us, and spoken in the kind est manner of your drawing and my music. She lamented so over the loss of my piano, and my want of opportunity to practice, that I felt quite sorry for myself, and then she suddenly asked me why we did not come to the United States, and make some arrangement for teaching and con tinuing our studies at the same time. I told her frankly that it was impossible unless we could sell the plantations, and she seemed so sorry. She asked me if it had occurred to us to try to rent them, since they could not be sold ; and I said it hadn t, so far as I knew. I wonder it has not, and DORIS AND THEODORA. 313 I mean to speak to mamma and Leonard about it as soon as 1 go home." " Why, papa thought of that several months ago," said Jane, " and he even put advertisements in New York and Philadelphia papers, but nothing ever came of it. I grow so impatient, sometimes, when I think of all we might do if the plantations could only be sold or rented. It is just like being tied to a post. How do you keep yourself so tranquil and patient, Doris, and manage not to fret? " " But I don t," replied Doris. " I am afraid I fret a great deal, inside ; but all the time dear papa was ill we tried so hard to keep painful things away from him, and always to be cheerful with him, that I suppose I formed a sort of habit of keeping my worriments to myself." " It s a most excellent habit to form. I have always de spised these groany people, who impose their woes upon every one who comes near them, but I am afraid I shall be one of them, before long, if things don t take a turn. I am fast approaching the explosive point, with suppressed and uncalled-for energies!" Doris laughed ; Jane s bright, energetic face and resolute manner so completely contradicted her apprehension. But there certainly was force enough in "the firm" for more and better work than they were called upon to do. The business ran very smoothly now, under their careful and systematic supervision, and Doris often longed for work in which her intellect might have a share. Yet she was learn ing, almost unconsciously, the lesson of this hard discipline. Patience and faith were growing. " To the day, the day," she often repeated to herself, and it did not seem impossible, now, to live a day at a time. Her bright cheerfulness was slowly returning, as, at her age, it was natural that it should, and she and Leonard had gone back to some of the amuse ments and occupations of the happy days which now seemed 14 314 DORIS AND THEODORA. so far away in the past. Dirck had not been seen since the night of the rebellion, although Cudjoe had been quietly and cautiously searching for him ever since, and the horses which were left were unfit for Doris to ride; but Leonard and Cudjoe kept the sail-boat in beautiful order, and many an evening was spent on the waters of the harbor. Mrs. Camp bell was sometimes induced to go with them, and always seemed refreshed and strengthened by the change. Although far from strong, she was generally well now, and both Doris and Leonard guarded her health with unceasing watchful ness and loving care. Jane and Clara frequently came towards evening ; Clara did not care for sailing, and loved to sit with Mrs. Campbell, knowing that Doris never felt quite comfortable in leaving her mother alone. So Leonard would take Jane and Doris in the boat, and he began to wonder if Jane had really changed very much since her school-girl days, or if he were only now learning to appreciate her. She showed to great advantage when she was with him, for, while she esteemed him very highly, her knowledge of his former preference for Hilda made her feel that she might safely manifest her real friendship for him, free from any fear that he would imagine more than friendship. Like Doris, she fancied that he would remain faithful to a memory, and she felt no little surprise at the light-hearted manner in which he went about both work and play. It seemed to her the most successful concealment of a heart-sorrow that could be imagined, and he, in his turn, was often perplexed by her puzzled expres sion, if he happened to be especially cheerful. Doris, who could not help seeing the turn affairs were taking, was divided between delight and indignation. It was no wonder that Leonard should be charmed with such a woman as Jane had grown to be, had he been free to be charmed by anybody, but must she really readjust, or DORIS AND THEODORA. 315 rather reconstruct, all her youthful fancies and theories, be fore they would fit everyday facts? It seemed so. It was Doris s week at the "manufactory," and her new friend took advantage of the fact to call frequently, pleading as her excuse the fact that her stay in the Island was nearly over, and that she had still much to say. She made rather minute inquiries regarding Doris s qualification for teaching, and her wishes concerning it, apologizing for the "impertinence" of her questions, and assuring Doris that they were not prompted by idle curiosity. She gave no promises, but the very fact that she did not hold out any especial hope some how made Doris all the more hopeful. Jane was so often mentioned in the course of conversation, that Miss McCon- ncll expressed a desire to meet her; so an afternoon was fixed, and Jane came to the sugar-house simply to please Doris. A pleasant talk ensued, and Doris was delighted with the impression which Jane s bright intelligence had evidently made. Their new friend was even better than her word about securing additional orders for them. She brought several visitors with her on her last call, each of whom left an order, to be filled and shipped at the convenience of "the firm." She parted from them with real and evident regret, but spoke hopefully of meeting them again. "I will never, no never more grumble at the interruption of visitors," said Jane, as she and Doris returned from the harbor, where they had gone to see the last of their friend ; "why don t you reproach me, Doris, for the fuss I made the first day that most excellent old lady came ? " " Because you are evidently reproaching yourself with sufficient severity," replied Doris, "and I am only afraid that, after this notable instance, your keen eye to business will lead you to make things altogether too agreeable when people call." 316 DORIS AND THEODORA. "Yes," said Jane, "instead of the forbidding sign which I, in my short-sighted folly, contemplated, I mean to illumi nate Welcome to All/ on a large piece of bristol-board, and fasten it up in a conspicuous place. Then I think we had better bring some comfortable chairs, and a small table, and arrange them near the office end of the manufactory, and perhaps it would be a good plan to have some bread on hand, and offer bread and jelly to our visitors don t you think it would?" " Certainly !" replied Doris, falling in with Jane s humor, "and coffee Hagar makes delicious coffee, and we will have it handed immediately, when people call. That will put them in a good humor, to begin with, and no doubt our orders will double in number and amount." "It wouldn t be such a bad plan," said Jane, reflectingly ; "people are always in better humor, when they ve been eat ing and drinking that is proverbial and as they would probably be hungry, a very inferior jelly to our first-class article would seem delightful to them. I really think I will try it, when it is my week again !" " Oh, Jeanie! you can t be in earnest? You wouldn t be such a goose ! " "My dear Doris, I would be a goose, or a hen, or any re spectable domestic fowl, if I could thereby advance our busi ness interests. At present, it is the great ambition of my life to be truly business-like ; to prove that women can suc ceed in things which require common-sense and a strict ad herence to business principles, and I don t wish to overlook any chance, however small, of bettering ourselves. I have set my heart upon making enough money to take us to the States, and, even if we don t succeed, it is better to aim too high than too low. For the money, in itself, I don t care a fig, nor for the sort of consideration which people give one for it ; but when I think of all the delightful things DORIS AND THEODORA. 317 that are made possible by it, and of the starved and stinted life which, in many ways, is all we can compass here, then I become rapacious." "I know," replied Doris; "I feel that way, sometimes, too, but then, on the other hand, I am afraid to be too eager to insist too hard upon having my wishes. When Theo was a few years younger, she used to be frantic to get hold of fire and light, and one night, before Nana could stop her, she actually did put her little hand right in the flame of a candle. She had been hindered and thwarted, over and over again, very cruelly and unjustly, as she no doubt thought, but she had her wish at last, poor little soul ! I don t know how many times I have thought of it since, but I know it is a good many." " I will try to think of it, too I don t wish to be too eager, too grasping," said Jane, humbly; "and perhaps I am letting myself dwell upon it too much. Oh, Doris! it is very hard to keep one s head in the eternal sunshine, isn t it?" "Indeed it is," replied Doris, earnestly; "and mamma always says that the only sure way to drive out badness is to put in goodness two bodies cannot occupy the same space at the same time, you know." To the old, and often to the middle-aged, eventless days are welcome, for these know only too well how many of the happenings of life are sad ; but to the young they seem irk some and tedious as they slowly pass. Yet, as some one has said, the time which seems long in passing often seems short in the retrospect, for there are no landmarks to divide day from day, and memory is confused by the sameness. And often, after a long season of quiet monotony, which seems to be the established order of things, and almost as if it might never yield to change, events follow each other in rapid suc cession, like the waves of a torrent long held back. 318 DORIS AND THEODORA. Doris had grown so used to the routine of her life, there was so much that was peaceful and pleasant about it, that, ardently as she had sometimes wished for a change, she felt a faint regret when at last it came. The first break, occur ring about a month after Miss McConnell left the Island, was the arrival of a letter from Mr. Santon to Leonard, con taining a very fair offer for renting the plantation, with the possibility of ultimate purchase. Mr. Santon vouched for the firm which made the offer a New York mercantile house and strongly recommended its acceptance. The amount oifered would, Leonard thought, keep Mrs. Camp bell and her daughters comfortably, if not luxuriously, in New York, and still more comfortably, should they decide to live in a smaller town or a village. Mrs. Campbell was perfectly willing that the offer should be accepted at once, for she was feeling much distressed by Leonard s detention from his studies, and she knew he would not leave the Island so long as he felt that his services were needed. Indeed, so afraid was he of appearing to feel bound, that he would not urge the acceptance of the offer, presenting, as fairly as he could, both sides of the question for his aunt s consideration. The adverse side was the possibility that, after their removal to the United States, and the expiration of the term named in the offer, it might be found impossible either to rent or sell the plantation, when their income would, of course, abruptly cease. But here Doris took the word. She felt very sure that, with the year of security which was offered them, to begin with, she could succeed in making a comfortable income as a teacher. Mr. Santon had more than once promised to use his influence to obtain teaching for her to do, should she succeed in coming to America, and there was no doubt either of his ability or his good-will. Mrs. Campbell agreed with Doris, for the future seemed to her much more doubt- DORIS AND 7^HEODORA. 319 ful for them, should they remain on the Island. So it was settled, and Leonard was authorized to write the letter of acceptance ; while Mrs. Campbell and Doris, each more anx ious for the comfort of the other than for her own, tried to see only the bright side of the change about to take place. OHAPTEE XX. THE first person to whom Doris naturally went with her news was Jane, and she went with no little regret and anxiety, for, although Jane and Clara were quite capable of carrying on the business without her, she feared that Jane, at least, would not think so, and also that Hagar and Pareen would be unwilling to remain after her departure, and she knew that to fill their places satisfactorily would be difficult, if not impossible. She received another lesson upon crossing bridges before one comes to them. Half-way between the two houses, she met Jane and Clara, on their way to see her, and they in sisted upon turning back, that she might not miss the drive with Leonard, for it was a charming evening, and they knew how seldom such drives occurred. " But then mamma will lose your visit," said Doris, hesi tating, "and she is always so glad to see you both." " And so is mamma glad to see you both," said Jane, " and Clara and I will go to see you very soon, whereas there is no telling when you will make another effort on our behalf! Come, don t you see we have already turned ? so you are keeping the procession waiting ! " " I will not be utterly crushed," said Doris, laughing; "if I let you turn back, I shall make my own terms ; come here, imperious Jane, and take my place, while I take yours with Clara, then a double amount of talking can be done, and much valuable time saved, for we cannot stay late." Doris called herself a coward as she said this a sudden DORIS AND THEODORA. 321 impulse had seized her to let Leonard, instead of herself, tell Jane the news. " That s an easy condition," said Jane, rising at once, and stepping down from the chaise before Leonard could spring to help her, " and as Mr. Campbell was not consulted, he has nothing to do but meekly submit to the inevi table." The exchange was effected, and then the two vehicles be came separated, for the chaise which Clara drove was already in advance, and was drawn by much the better horse of the two. Before Doris could introduce the subject uppermost in her mind, Clara, speaking with unusual animation, said : " We have heard your good news, Doris dear, and we were coming both to congratulate you, and to tell you ours un less you have heard too have you ?" " No," said Doris, wondering, " and I don t see how you can have heard my news you must mean something else, I think." " Then two wonderful things have happened to you lately," said Clara, merrily; "but the one that I mean is the offer to rent the plantation." "Why, that is my news!" said Doris; "but how in the world did you hear ? " " In no mysterious manner, my dear. Doctor Svensen told papa, quite naturally, when papa consulted with hi in about the offer for our plantation the dear old doctor ought to charge legal, as well as medical fees, for I do believe half the people in the Island ask his advice about matters of business. Papa was a little doubtful, for he is always so sanguine, you know, and he still clings to the hope that things may be rearranged, and take a fresh start on the Island, and he did not think the offer quite large enough ; 322 DORIS AND THEODORA. but Doctor Svensen urged him by all means to accept, as he thinks things must grow worse, instead of better, and by way of clinching his argument, he said that Mrs. Campbell had just decided to accept an offer, no larger in proportion than this, for renting her estate. Papa asked him if he were himself thinking of emigrating, but he said, very sadly, no, he was too old for so radical a change ; but that he would not be so selfish as to counsel any of his friends to stay by the sinking ship!" " Dear old man !" said Doris, with tears springing to her eyes as she spoke ; " he could not be selfish now, I do believe, even if he were to wish to the whole habit of his life, for so many years, has been unselfishness. How hard it will be to live anywhere without him. But oh, Clara, I am very, very glad that you are coming too. We can all be homesick together, for I know right well that we shall be homesick, everything in the States is so utterly different from this dear place." " There will be one good thing about it," said Clara, hopefully : " we shall be too busy, for awhile at least, to be very miserable, and dearly as I love the Island, I have always had a little wish to live in the States, and I should wish still more for it, if I were a man. A republic is better than a monarchy it must be." " Now, Clara," said Doris ready, as they all were, always, for an argument" if Miss Anna were to hear you say that, she would tell you it was a far too sweeping and unqualified assertion. A limited and well-administered monarchy must, in the nature of things, be better than a lawless and un limited republic." " I am not by any means sure of that," replied Clara, standing bravely to her colors; "for a monarchy, no matter how beneficent it is, must always touch the interests of the people somewhere, and even a lawless republic has the possi- DORIS AND THEODORA. 323 bilities, for the future, which a monarchy can never have but here we are, Doris, so I shall have to postpone convincing you to some future time." "Postpone being convinced, you mean!" said Doris, laughing, as they alighted from the chaise. " Why, where are Jeanie and Leonard ? I thought they were right behind us." " I suppose they turned into the other road," said Clara ; " it is rather longer, but so much better than this, that I meant to take it, and then the charms of your conversation made me oblivious of the turn I should have taken, until after we had passed it. There ! that is to atone for having jolted you unnecessarily, my dear." " The atonement is ample, but the inference is sadly plain they were not oblivious ; I hope they are not quarreling Jeanie has a wicked way of twisting what Leonard says, sometimes." "It is not only Leonard," said Clara, smiling ; "it is one of Jeanie s theories that most, if not all, men assume too much, and that it is the duty of every right-minded woman to help them to find their level." " We will not wait for them, then," said Doris, going up the steps as she spoke ; " when they have finished leveling each other, they will probably turn their attention to poor old Duke, who is no doubt taking advantage of the conflict to walk every step of the way." Cordial greetings had hardly been exchanged, when the supposed belligerents appeared; but it struck both Doris and Clara that they looked surprisingly meek, and were un necessarily explanatory about having come by the longer road. However, the talk soon turned upon the all-absorbing topic, and the animated discussion which followed made the evening seem only too short. The same thought had oc curred to both Doris and Jane that Miss McConnell was in 324 DORIS AND THEODORA. some way connected with the sudden turn in the fortunes of both families, and it may as well be mentioned here that this proved to be the case, although the girls did not ascertain it for some time afterward. Her interest hacl been deep and real, and she had lost no time, upon returning home, in car rying out a plan which had occurred to her while she was still with them, but of which she would not speak, until she could be quite sure of not raising false hopes. Most of her money was invested with the firm in whose name the planta tions had been leased, and she had resolved that, if she could induce Mr. Remby, the head of the firm, to join her in the venture, she would in this manner enable the girls to make a fresh start where there would be every hope of success to encourage them. Her income was not sufficiently large to accomplish all her purpose unaided, but she had no difficulty in persuading Mr. Remby to share the venture. The loss to him would be trifling, he said, compared with losses which he was constantly incurring in the conduct of his business, even should the venture prove an utter failure ; but he did not intend that it should fail ! He chose an energetic and capable clerk from the large staff in his warehouse, and gave him carte Uanclie in the selection of twenty or thirty laborers, only stipulating that those who had families were to be allowed to take them. Their passage was to be paid, in all cases where they were unable to pay it, with the un derstanding that it was to be " worked out" immediately upon their arrival. These men were picked out with care and much patient investigation, and nearly all of them ful filled the hopes of their employers ; so Leonard s plan was carried out, after all ! Miss McConnell and Mr. Remby were old and intimate friends, and were in full sympathy in certain of their " views" about helping people, agreeing that the truest and best help was that which enabled any one in want or distress DORIS AND THEODORA. 325 to help himself; for there are times in many lives, when the "helping hand," outstretched or withheld, means all the difference between a return to prosperity and a hopeless descent into adversity. Miss McConnell felt very sure that, if these two girls who had so awakened her interest could only find standing-room, they would use their levers to good purpose. She had at first thought only of securing them situations as teachers or governesses, and advancing them the money for their passage to the United States ; but after being introduced to their homes, she became convinced that this would not be the right thing to do they were both too much needed to be spared, and she felt sure that Doris, and probably Jane also, would decline her offer on this account. She hoped, too, in arranging her plan, for two other good results the change of climate might do much for Mrs. Campbell s health, and Leonard would be honorably released from his self-appointed bondage. The long calm was at an end. The bustle of preparation seemed to be in the very air, and the girls met only for hur ried interviews. For their passage was taken ; they were to sail in two weeks, that they might escape the beginning of the hurricane season, for it was now the middle of June. Doris was glad that so little time was left for thought, for now that their departure was inevitable, she was haunted by the thronging memories of happy days and years, and a long ing regret, a sort of anticipated home-sickness, surged over her like a wave, whenever she allowed herself to think. And she knew, beside, that notwithstanding the brave cheerful ness always maintained in her presence, how her mother s heart would be wrung by this parting from the home so full of tender recollections and associations. Only that which could die lay in the carefully tended grave whose headstone 326 DORIS AND THEODORA. bore her father s name, and yet it seemed cruel to leave that grave to neglect and disorder. The old home, every room of which had held dear mem ories, was gone, never to return ; but lovely foliage, and sparkling skies, and the blue, laughing waters of the harbor, still remained, and to these the hearts of mother and daugh ter clung. Doris was thankful, from every point of view, for a diver sion of their thoughts which occurred about a week before their departure. At the time of the general liberation of the slaves, Mr. Campbell had, at Hagar s request, placed in her hands the sum of money which Glasgow had saved, and of which ho thought it right to tell her, after Glasgow s death. He had done this reluctantly, fearing she would make some foolish use of it, or squander it gradually in small sums ; but she had always been a reserved and silent woman, faithful in her work, but not showing the aifection and devotion manifested by her husband ; and Mr. Camp bell had feared that she might construe any remonstrance from him as reluctance to part with the money. So it had been handed to her with only a slight but emphatic charge to be careful of it, and not to allow herself to be wheedled into lending it, to which she had quietly replied : " It have (there is) no danger, Massa. Glasgow work too hard for it for me not to take care o it now he gone." None of the family had ever discovered what she did with it ; even Pareen and Cudjoe did not know, and they all sup posed that she had either given or lent it in small sums, un til it was gone. So the general surprise may be imagined when, in a solemnly-appointed interview with Mrs. Campbell, she an nounced that if "Missy" had no objection, she, Pareen, and Cudjoe would sail for "de States" when the family did! DORIS AND THEODORA. 327 Mrs. Campbell, thinking that she did not comprehend the financial side of this proposal, began gently to explain it to her, but Hagar cut the explanation short with " A knows all dat, Missy. De money all ready, if Mass Leonard be so kind as tend to buyin de tickets Cudjoe don know de place ! " "But are you sure you have enough ? It takes a great deal, you know," said Mrs. Campbell, still doubtful, and very much surprised as well. Hagar silently drew from the bosom of her gown a large, well-worn pocket-book, which Mrs. Campbell at once recog nized ; her husband had given it to Glasgow, years before. Opening the book, Hagar counted the contents, and Mrs. Campbell found, to her astonishment, that there was nearly twice the amount needed for the buying of the three second- class tickets. " But, Hagar," she said, " do you really wish to go ? You are no longer young, and the change of climate, and in fact, everything, will be very great. You have a sister and brother here, too can you leave them, never perhaps to see them again in this world ? " The usual stolid expression of Hagar s face was shaken, for a moment, by a convulsive twitching of the muscles. She, too, was keeping green the grave of the one she loved best. But she only said, with the sort of dogged resolution which had characterized all her words and actions, since her hus band s death : " If Missy don want us, she please say so plain out, and we stay, but if she want us, den we go. When Glasgow say good-bye, he tell me, Stick fast to Missy and Massa, and dere chillen, Hagar, and a mus do what Glasgow tell me, unless Missy say not." " But do you really wish to go, Hagar," asked Mrs. Camp bell, perplexed, as she so often was, by the inconsistency of 328 DORIS AND THEODORA. Hagar s actions with her manner, "or are yon doing this only because you think Glasgow would wish you to ? " "What Glasgow wish was always nuff for me, Missy," said Hagar, evading the question. "He know best. He always say, < De clrillen have a chance, in de States, laike dey don have heah, so if Missy want to go dere, dat all right you tek de chillen, and go too, if a not heah. Missy please not ask me any ting moah. A be true to her and hers, she needn t be fraid; a caint talk like Glasgow, but a mean what Glasgow mean, all de same. Will Missy beliebe dat?" Hagar s large, solemn eyes were fixed upon Mrs. Camp bell s face, with the wistful look so often seen in the eyes of a dumb animal. It seemed to Mrs. Campbell that she had never before sounded the depths of this strange, silent woman s nature. She grasped the hard, black hand, and with tears shining in her eyes, said earnestly: "I will I do believe it, dear Hagar. You shall come with ns, although it cuts me to the heart that you must take your own money to do so, but Glasgow was quite right about the children they will have chances there that they could never have here, and I know they will improve their chances, for they are good and faithful. You and I, who have lived our lives, must live again now in and for our children. It will be hard to leave those graves to the care of strangers, but they shall be cared for, Hagar, you may be very sure of that I shall arrange for it before I go. Glas gow was too faithful a servant in life to be forgotten in death." Hagar pressed a fervent kiss upon the slender hand which held her own, and, as she did so, one large, slow-falling tear rested beside the kiss. She did not speak, but Mrs. Camp bell felt sure that the allegiance, given hitherto largely for Glasgow s sake, would henceforth be given more largely from DORIS AND THEODORA. 329 loving gratitude. The most tender and scrupulous care had been lavished upon Glasgow s grave by his widow and chil dren, and Hagar s chief regret, when she resolved to leave the Island with her mistress, had been for the neglect with which she feared it would be treated, if not at once, in a very short time, for she was naturally of anything but a trusting or confiding disposition, and although she had meant to leave all the provision within her power for the continued care of the grave, she had not much faith that her wishes would be long regarded, while Mrs. Campbell, having friends upon the Island who could see that her directions were not neg lected, could be relied upon for the fulfilment of a promise so solemnly made. Pareen and Cudjoe were wild with delight when they heard what was before them. They had both inherited their father s good sense and steadfastness of character, and had grieved bitterly at the impending separation, for they had never forgotten Glasgow s wish that they should continue faithfully to serve Mr. Campbell s family. Before Hagar revealed her intention to Mrs. Campbell, the latter had spoken of her anxiety concerning these three faithful servants to Mrs. Santon, who had readily agreed to take them into her own service, and was quite disappointed when she learned that this would not be necessary, although she rejoiced, for Mrs. Campbell s sake, that they were going. None of them, excepting Leonard, realized how great was the difference between the domestic arrangements in the Island and those in the United States, where two, or at the most three, serv ants were expected to perform all the household work required by people in moderate circumstances, while many families lived in comfort with the help of only one. But Leonard knew that, should it not be possible for Ilagar and her two children to live with his aunt, they w r ould have no diffi culty in finding employment, with such recommendations 330 DORIS AND THEODORA. as would be given them, and he also knew how great would be the comfort to his aunt and cousins on the voyage, and on their first landing in a strange country, to have these familiar faces about them, so he said nothing to discourage the plan. Doris and her two partners in business had sev eral discussions as to what had better be done with the " goodwill and fixtures." It did not seem probable that any one would offer to buy them out, and they knew of no one to whom they could leave the business. If they could have made some arrangement by which it might be carried on by an agent, so that they might continue to profit by it, they would have been very glad, but neither of them could think of any suitable person. It seemed a great pity to let it fall to the ground when it was growing more profitable all the time, and they postponed writing to their different cus tomers, hoping to find either a purchaser or an agent, but agreeing that if neither had appeared two weeks before the time fixed for their sailing, they could then delay no longer. Clara, indeed, thought they ought not to wait so long, fear ing they would cause inconvenience to the merchants who were now in the habit of depending on them, but both Doris and Jane laughingly declared they had a "feeling sense" that, from some unexpected quarter, either an agent or a purchaser would appear. "Since your feeling sense goes so far, does it not tell you which?" inquired Clara. But they assured her that she expected quite too much of a presentiment, which must necessarily be vague, and still insisted upon waiting till the appointed time. It lacked but a day or two of it, and they were beginning to admit that presentiments sometimes "missed fire," when a note from Grace Lilienthal equally surprised and delighted them. It ran thus : DORIS AND THEODORA. 331 " MY DEAR DORIS AND JEANIE AND CLARA : " Sara and I are so very, very sorry you are all going away, for, although we do not meet you very often, we do sometimes, and now we never shall, and your going takes off more than half of the seven. But what I wish to write about is this: you know Miss Anna wished us all to really work at something, and since the slaves are free we can find less and less to do for them, and we really have a great deal of spare time. So when we heard you were going away, and must give up your business at the old sugar-house, we asked papa and mamma if we might buy all the things, and try to go on with it as you were doing, although, of course, we should not do so well just at first, and perhaps not at all, because we know nothing about it. But it would keep us busy, and perhaps we should make some money of our very own, to give away just as we liked ; which would be delightful, for, after all, what we give away now is papa s, and not ours. And then we thought perhaps some of the younger negroes might be trained to go into business of the same sort, and so made useful and contented so many of them are troublesome now. So will you please tell us what we ought to pay for everything, just as it stands ? Papa says you must not say too little, for that such a well- established business is worth a good deal. And if you do not mind, I wish you would tell us what you pay the people who work for you, and what rent we ought to offer Christine for the sugar-house, and anything else we shall need to know and cannot find out for ourselves. We hate to bother you just now, when you are so busy, but it seems as if we must a little, or we cannot take the business. At first papa and mamma were very much opposed to our undertaking it; papa in particular said it would be time enough if things grew worse in the Island, and we came really to need the money. But we coaxed them, and told them all the things 332 DORIS AND THEODORA. we could remember that Miss Anna had said about girls working, and not being just drones to be taken care of all their lives, and after awhile, when they saw how much we wanted to try it, they consented, but only for a year; then they are to decide again whether or not we may keep on, but I am pretty sure they will let us if we only suc ceed, as I hope we shall before the year is over. I will not write any more now, for I know you are busy. Please an swer as soon as you can, for we are a little afraid some one else may have offered, and we should be so disappointed to lose it now, when we were obliged to coax and beg so hard for it. With a great deal of love from both of us to all of you, I am, very affectionately, } T ours, "GKACE LlLIENTIIAL." The girls smiled, as they read it over each other s shoul ders, at the honest, artless wording of the letter, noticing how Grace said "we" almost always in place of "I," and how little her round, girlish handwriting had changed, since they went to school together. They were greatly rejoiced with the offer, and with the knowledge that the business would still be carried on, for they employed now a number of women and girls, who were learning much beside neat and workmanlike habits. Doris wrote a cordial reply in the name of "the firm," after they had consulted with Leonard, Dr. Svensen, and Christine, and to this came an immediate response, enclosing a check for the amount named, and thanking the girls warmly for their suggestion that the new owners should take possession at once, and learn as much as possible from the old ones, while they were still in the Island. This was done, and by the time "the firm" took its final departure, things were running smoothly under the new administration. All three of the girls, but particularly Jane, were surprised DORIS AND THEODORA. 333 by the energy and business talent which Grace and Sara dis played. They made no pretence to intellectual ability, but their minds were clear and orderly, and they gave the whole of them to whatever they undertook. "I wish Miss Anna could see how the good seed she sowed has flourished," said Doris to Jane, one day when they had together been initiating Grace and Sara into the mysteries of jelly-making. " Do you remember, Jeanie, when we first began to go to school to her, how we used to smile in a superior manner at these two dear, good, useful girls, until she brought out the fine contrast between their efficiency and our inefficiency ? " "I am not likely ever to forget it," said Jane, the quick color springing to her face as she spoke; "my cheeks burn yet whenever I think of those self-sufficient days, before she helped me to find my real level. But, Doris, I somehow always feel about Miss Anna as if it does not matter at all whether or not she ever finds out, in this world, about all the good she has done. In fact, it seems to me sometimes that it will be all the more beautiful for her to know little or nothing about it until she gets to Heaven just think what it will be then ! It would not do for everybody most of us are discouraged if we don t see the result of what we have done, or at least some result, almost immediately but a grand, strong nature like Miss Anna s can keep right on, all the same, in storm or sunshine, and be satisfied just to do right, and leave all question of results with God. I think that is one thing that keeps her always so bright and cheer fulher only anxiety is to do her part ; she has none about the rest." " Ah," said Doris, sighing as she spoke, "when I see peo ple walking <on the heights, it makes me feel how far down I am, and I wonder if they, too, began at the very foot of the mountain, or if some natural advantage placed them 334 DORIS AND THEODORA. half-way up at the start, and so made it easier for them to climb." " I do not know," said Jane, " and what is more, I do not suppose we were meant to know ; but what we can all be certain of is, that no matter how weak and unable we are in ourselves, we may all be made strong with an invincible Strength, if we only will." As, one after another, the ties which bound her to her lifelong home were sundered, Doris kept thinking, "This is the hardest to bear;" but when the time came for her final parting with Antoinette, she felt that this was indeed the most cruel wrench of all. For the friendship between them was very deep and true and tender, and as Doris looked at the pale, saintly face and fragile little form, she knew only too well that in this world they would never meet again. Not many words were said. Doris promised to write very often, and implored Antoinette to let her mother write for her, whenever she should feel able to dictate, and this Mrs. San ton willingly undertook to do. Doris pressed kiss after kiss on the face she was never more to see, until she should see it glorified and freed from every trace of pain and death. By a violent effort, she re pressed her sobs for Antoinette s sake, but she cried quietly all the way home, and was so pale and spiritless that evening that her mother and Leonard, who were watching her anx iously, and fearing that the long strain upon her energies was telling seriously at last, were doubly glad of a diversion which occurred in the course of the evening. Cudjoe had been sent upon an errand to a distant planta tion, and had ridden one of the work-horses. He was gone so much longer than Leonard thought necessary, and this was a proceeding so different from his usual prompt and orderly habits, that Mrs. Campbell was becoming seriously uneasy, when he at last appeared, riding even more slowly DORIS AND THEODORA. 335 than the ago and infirmity of his steed compelled him to ordinarily, and leading by a rough rope a much smaller and sorrier-looking horse, which limped painfully with every step. Doris happened to be within the house, and so did not see the arrival, and Cudjoe, in a few hurried words, begged Mrs. Campbell to let him go at once to the stable, and explain his delay and his acquisition afterward. She trusted him so entirely that she immediately granted his request, and in about an hour he came smiling to the door, and begged that she and Miss Doris would come with him to the side door. They went, wondering, and there stood one of the other "boys," holding by the bridle the poor little strange horse. But a good supper, and a thorough combing and brush ing, had worked a transformation, and Doris, crying: "Dirck! Oh, it s my dear little Dirck!" sprang forward and threw her arms around the pony s neck. He gave a low whinny, which little Theo declared was a laugh, and rubbed his soft nose against Doris s cheek ; and while she laughed and cried, and showered caresses upon him, Theo flew for bread and sugar, and Dirck feasted royally, express ing his joy from time to time in the most unmistakable manner. Cudjoe stood by, his honest face one broad smile of delight, and when at last Doris recovered her balance suf ficiently to ask for an explanation, he told how, riding on a lonely road, he had overtaken a negro who was riding Dirck, and how he had at once recognized both horse and rider. The latter was a worthless fellow, a servant at one time on Mrs. San ton s plantation, and one of the foremost among the natives of the Island to take part in the riot. He lived, with several of his confederates, wholly by trickery and stealing, and they had a sort of retreat among the rocks upon the sea shore. He professed to be a peddler of small wares, and, by keeping on the other side of the Island, he had managed 336 DORIS AND THEODORA. to use Dirck without being detected, until, growing bold from this long immunity, he had ventured too far, and the result had been disastrous to him. " But how did you get Dirck away ? " inquired Doris, at last ; " did the wretch give him up willingly ? " Cudjoe s smile threatened to meet behind his ears as he replied : "He didn t seem willing just at first, Missy ; but when I came away with Dirck, that boy was lying down in the ditch, just like a little lamb, and he never offered to follow me we went slow, too, because Dirck was dead lame." "But I hope you didn t hurt him badly," said Doris, anx iously; "he must be very wicked, but still " 11 Missy needn t be afraid, said Cudjoe, soothingly; "it was a nice, soft place where he fell, and I ll undertake that no bones was broken he was only shook up pretty well- not half as well as he deserved, though, and I most wish I d given him a little more." Doris rode her recovered pet to Christine Larsen s next morning, going very slowly and carefully out of consideration for his weakness for the lameness had already almost yielded to Cudjoe s skillful treatment and Christine cheerfully prom ised to give him a home until Doris could afford to send for him, asserting that the pleasure of riding him would more than pay for his board. Doris had been greatly troubled, not so much by his loss as by the fear that he was being ill- treated, and it was a real comfort to her to know that he was at last safe and in good hands. CHAPTER XXI. last day had come ; to-morrow they were to sail, -L and "the book would close over" on one chapter of their lives, never again to open at the same place. It was a very busy day. Last items of packing, last arrangements about the house and plantation, filled the time of both the families, and left little room in their minds for vain regrets. Theo flitted about the house like a spirit of light " never in the way and never out of it," ready to take a message, to run on an errand, to help with anything that little hands and feet could do, and seeming to diffuse a brightness through the house as she went. " I used to think there was a good deal of luck in the way children turned out," said Leonard to Doris, as together they packed the trunk with things for use during the voy age; "but since I ve seen Aunt Agnes with Theo, I know better! I don t believe aunt has ever raised her voice, or spoken harshly to Theo in her life, and yet look how im plicitly the little thing minds her, and how unconsciously she copies aunt s manner of speaking, and tries to do the things her mother does. I ll not say anything about you to your face, mademoiselle, but I can tell you, you don t in the least contradict my newly-formed theory, either. Two girls more opposite in natural disposition and character than you and Theo are, it would be hard to find, and yet " "You d better stop," said Doris, laughing and blushing; " your admiration is excited by the manner in which I have made four go into two, in packing this trunk, and I don t wonder; I have developed a talent for packing of which I 15 338 DORIS AND THEODORA. am justly proud; but you mustn t turn my poor little head with flattery, you know ! " "Doris, you are a goose! When you are old, and neg lected, and people have stopped saying pretty things to you, how remorsefully you will think of the snubs you have ad ministered to me and of course to countless unfortunates beside!" "I may be old, but I don t mean to be neglected, my dear." "And how will you carry out your self-confident meaning, pray ? " "By not neglecting ad interim. There is much con densed wisdom in that reply, and I leave you to crack the nut and pick it out! But, Leonard, talking of Thco, there is not a day of my life that I don t feel humiliated, remem bering the miserable envy and jealousy with which I regarded her at first, and now she is the very sunshine of our lives ; it seems impossible that we should live without her. Dear little soul, it seems to me that she never has a selfish thought, and it is such a comfort to think that, whatever may happen to her on her way through life, she carries her own indestructible happiness with her." " Yes," said Leonard " He that hath light within his own clear breast Can sit i the centre, and enjoy bright day, you know. And there s another of my exploded fallacies ; in my ignorant youth I fancied that people s outside cir cumstances made or marred their happiness." " But you never acted as if you did," replied Doris ; "I have often envied you your make-the-best-of-the-worst dis position, and wondered whether you could be put anywhere without finding some good in the situation." " Thank you, ma am ! " and Leonard made a courtly bow. DORIS AND THEODORA. 339 "I suppose that Roland is in payment for my Oliver. But see ! even you can t get anything more into this trunk, my dear. Suppose we call it packed, and lock it there are a thousand more things, more or less, you know, waiting to be done." " It seems like more, rather than less," said Doris, seating herself on the trunk by way of persuading it to be locked ; "and I am so haunted by a fear of forgetting some very important thing, and then remembering it just as we are off." " Now, Doris, that isn t like you, and you must not give way to it!" said Leonard, with pretended severity. "If you allow yourself to get flustered, you probably will forget something. Just go quietly ahead, doing things as they occur to you, and to-night, i when a the lave are slcepin , Aunt Agnes and you and I will take a quiet think, and make memoranda you know the ( Hesperus does not sail till late in the afternoon, and there will be plenty of time in the morning to attend to anything that may be forgotten to-day. We have things very well in hand much better than I feared we should and we can afford to go easy now. So brace up, my dear ; the work is nearly over, and it s too late to begin to worry, just as we are going to have two weeks of moonlight nights and sea breezes on a good ship ! Think of that and smile ! " Doris did smile, but rather uncertainly, as she said : " I suppose I am a little tired, and that makes me weak- minded! I will take a fresh start, when all this is over, and the wrench has really been made but oh, Leonard, Leonard, I never dreamed what a wrench it would be I Papa And the words ended in choking sobs. The long strain on body and mind was telling at last, and Leonard, full of consternation which he did not express, put his arm about 340 DORIS AND THEODORA. Doris, and let her sob on his shoulder, stroking her hair as gently as her mother would have done, and murmuring apologies for his " bearishness." But the "good cry," re pressed for days, was a moral thunder-shower, and cleared the air in a manner which increased Leonard s perplexity as to the "ways" of girls. She was quietly cheerful all the rest of the day, and even laughed a little at Leonard s look of alarm at her unwonted display of emotion. " See what a sensation one can make, by only crying once in a long while ! " she said. " If women only realized that, how careful they would be, for everyday crying very soon ceases to attract any attention ! " But Leonard knew how deep was the feeling which under lay her cheerfulness, and strove to save and spare her in every possible way. Pareen was like her shadow, and the intelligent, as well as affectionate help which she and Cudjoe gave was invaluable, while Hagar, grimly silent, and with a look of stolid endurance upon her dark face, assumed the heaviest tasks, pushing Pareen aside, not a little roughly, sometimes, to do so. By evening all was in readiness, save the very few things which must be left till the last, and the short twilight found the tired family gathered on the narrow wooden veranda which was the only substitute for the old stone piazza. Mrs. Campbell had submitted to the loving commands laid upon her, and had done only such light tasks as she might safely undertake, knowing how greatly even a slight illness would add to the trouble and care of those she loved best. But, weak and delicate as she was, even the little she had done had wearied her, added to the effort she was making to remain tranquil, not only "out wardly in the body," but "inwardly in the soul " as well. For awhile they sat in silence, watching the quick oncom ing of darkness peculiar to the tropics, and the slender new moon sinking in the west, where a pale yellow light still DORIS AND THEODORA. 341 faintly lingered. It was a warm night, with but little air stirring, and it seemed to them all to be heavy and oppres sive. Leonard at last broke the silence by saying : "Aunt Agnes, if Doris and I each give you an arm, can not you come to the stone piazza ? There is always more breeze there than anywhere else, and I carried some chairs over just before dark. I thought that, just for the last night, we might sit there and ( make believe/ as Theo says. Will you come ? " "Of course I will, dear; I was about to propose it," re plied Mrs. Campbell; "but I. am afraid I cannot help you make believe ; the changes press too heavily for that, to night. We can do something better, though; we can bravely face things as they are, and resolve to be strong and of a good courage, And Doris, dear, there is something I want you to do ; after a little while, call all the servants who care to come, and we will sing some hymns, and pray once more, together, as we did in your dear father s lifetime. I would like them to have it to remember I have been able to do so sadly little for them of late." "Are you quite sure that you are equal to it, mamma that it will not be too much for you?" asked Doris, anxiously. " Yes, darling," replied her mother ; " it will be a com fort," and Doris remonstrated no more. The servants all came. Even the most unruly and un satisfactory among them had a sort of superstitious rever ence for Mrs. Campbell, and, having been for the past day or two in the hands of the agent who was to work the estate for the coming year, they were already regretting the change, and extolling Leonard s mode of government. The Lord s Prayer was said ; two or three well-known hymns were sung, and Mrs. Campbell bade them good-bye in a few kind words, 34-2 DORIS AND THEODORA. begging them to be faithful to their new employers, and not to listen to the bad advice of idle and worthless men. " One is our Master," she said, " even Christ. Let all your work be done in His name, for His sake, and you can not go astray. Good-bye, and may God bless you all, and grant that we may all meet at last in His everlasting king dom." The negroes, always easily excited, crowded about her, with tears and blessings and good-byes, until Doris was obliged gently to disperse them, fearing injury to her mother. It was a scene she never forgot; her eyes, grown accustomed to the soft semi-darkness, lighted by the glory of the stars, could easily distinguish the faces in the group, as they clustered about Mrs. Campbell s chair. Sobs and broken ejaculations came from all sides, and it seemed to her that her mother s pure, calm face, in the midst of the excited group, was "as the face of an angel." It was over at last, and Doris helped her mother back to the house, and then to make ready for bed, thankful to see her fall asleep almost as soon as her head touched the pillow. She herself expected to lie long awake, haunted by throng ing thoughts and memories, but it seemed to her that she had only just settled herself comfortably in bed, when she heard Pareen s gentle voice saying deprecatingly " Missy told me not to call her later than five, and it s just struck." Doris rose wearily, feeling only half rested, but the cool bath and cup of savory coffee awaiting her seemed to supply the other half, and she was ready to meet her mother cheer fully, and begin the last, most trying hours with courage. What she dreaded most, not only for herself, but for her mother and Theo, was the parting from " Nana," Lois. The child was passionately fond of her nurse, and yet, it seemed to Doris, this love was nothing to that which the nurse felt DORIS AND THEODORA. 343 for the nursling whose life she had fostered and saved. It was impossible that Lois should go ; she was old, in feeble health, and quite unable to pay her passage. She lived with a married daughter, who took very good care of her, and who, while she could afford to give her old mother a com fortable home, would have found it impossible to pay her passage to the United States, had all other conditions been favorable. Nothing had been said to Theo upon the sub ject, but Lois, in discussing it with Mrs. Campbell, had ad mitted, with streaming tears, how utterly impossible it was that she should go, only begging that she might be allowed to see them on board the ship, so that she could the better fancy how her " picaninny " was lodged and cared for dur ing the voyage. Mrs. Campbell and Doris both thought this unwise, but they had not the heart to refuse, and so Lois appeared soon after the eight o clock breakfast in clean ging ham gown, spotless white apron, and gay Madras handker chief wound high on her head, and finished off at the side with a knot, in a manner known only to negroes of a past day and generation. The day passed only too quickly. They were to be on board by four o clock in the afternoon, and it seemed to Doris that the hours fairly flew. Many of their friends, knowing how fully occupied these last hours would be, had agreed to meet at the wharf, and see the departing voyagers on board the "Hesperus." Doris longed, now that the time was indeed come, for all to be over -for the quiet and seclusion of the ship, after the bustle of departure, and the agitation of the past few days. She, with her mother, Leonard, and little Theo, had gone "very early in the morn ing" to place their last offering of flowers on the grave for which others must now care; and Doris had gone thence .with a wreath and cross for Glasgow s grave as well, to find Uagar prostrate beside it, shaken with bitter sobbing. Doris 344 DORIS AND THEODORA. said nothing; she laid her tribute on the earth which cov ered the body of the faithful servant, and then, pressing her hand gently for a moment on the bowed head, she glided softly away. Hagar never alluded in words to this meeting, or to Doris s acts of loving remembrance, but many things afterward proved that it was unforgotten. Doris was thankful for an unforeseen delay in some of their arrangements, which made their departure a little anxious and hurried. She would not allow herself to think, but, involuntarily, as they drove away, they all turned for a last look at the stone piazza, the sole tangible remnant of the happy, dearly-loved home. Mrs. Campbell was very pale, but perfectly quiet and composed. Little Theo s face worked with the valiant struggle she was making for her mother s sake. She had come to Doris that morning, saying : " Sister, dear, I want to make you a promise I promise you not to cry when we drive away to-day, for I can do it afterward, in some nice little place on the ship, where it will not hurt anybody. Now I promise, solemnly and truly, I will not cry in the carriage to-day !" "I am very glad you will not, darling," replied Doris, taking her little sister in her arms as she spoke ; " but will you tell me, if you don t mind, why you wished to promise me, instead of just resolving to yourself that you would not?" " I don t mind telling you anything now," said the child, nestling closer, and softly stroking her sister s face. " It was because it somehow seemed to me that it would be less hard to keep a promise, made quite aloud to somebody else, than to keep a resolution made all to myself. I don t know why, but it seems to make it more certain to say it." "I know," said Doris; "I have often felt just that way, and made a promise to mamma, for that very reason. Now DORIS AND THEODORA. 345 we must go on being busy but, darling, we will not be too busy to say a little prayer in our hearts often, that we may be helped over this hard place in our lives." "I do," she said, softly; "oh, sister, how could we man age at all, if we mightn t do that ?" With a fervent kiss on the pure, sweet little face, Doris sprang up, unable to trust herself to say more; but the child s words stayed with her all day, and gave her a curious sense of nearness to the Power in which even the weakest of us can " do all things." And through her mind, like a sweet cadence of song, went the words : " For I say unto you, that in Heaven their angels do always behold the face of my Father." Doris understood the quick, appealing look given her by her little sister, as the carriage turned, and the very trees which once stood about the dear home were hidden from view, and she quietly took into her own the little cold hands which were pressed so tightly together. At the wharf, many dear and familiar faces awaited them. Mrs. Santon, Christine, Grace and Sara, Dr. Svensen and his daughter, all clustered about them as they left the carriage, and went with them on board the vessel, which, beautifully clean and marred by no black smoke-stack between the tall masts, seemed to little Theo like a fairy palace. Other friends and acquaintances besides those just mentioned were there, and flowers, fruit, and many small comforts and conveniences for the voyage, offerings made with warm and true affection, crowded their state-rooms and the table in the cabin. Mr. and Mrs. Barrett had been on board for half an hour, and were still busy bestowing their belongings to the best advantage in the small compass which must hold so much. This would be their home for two weeks, or but little less, and it was worth while to take some pains at the beginning to make themselves as comfortable as possible in it. The 346 DORIS AND THEODORA. sight of their cheerful, hopeful faces was very pleasant, and seemed at once to lessen the strain upon the feelings of the other family. A younger sister of Jane and Clara, little Helen Barrett, took instant possession of Theo; she was a round-faced, merry child of six or seven years old, honest and warm hearted, with a good, ordinary, active mind, devotedly fond of Theo, who returned her love with a gentle courtesy and kindness, rather than an equal warmth, for to Theo it was always a painful thing, as well as a very strange one, that Helen cared so little for books and so much for rather noisy plays. But now Doris was pleased to see the warmth with which Theo met her little friend, and quite understood it; any fragment of the dearly-loved life she was leaving, any thing even which reminded her of it, would henceforth be dear to the heart of the sensitive child. It seemed to Mrs. Campbell and her children that they had been on board the vessel but a little while, when the signal was given for all who were not passengers to go ashore. Dr. Svensen, with tears of which he was in nowise ashamed streaming -down his honest, rosy face, took each one of them in turn in a fervent hug, and then, unable to speak, went so suddenly over the side of the vessel and down the ladder, that a number of people rushed to the side, thinking he had fallen overboard. His daughter, all her primness dispelled, and her bright, blue eyes dim with tears, turned once more, when she had bade them all good-bye, to press little Theo again to her heart and beg Doris, in piteous tones, to write at once when they had safely reached " that dreadful, far-off place." One by one " the old familiar faces " disappeared over the ship s side. Lois had stood silently by; Doris had gently begged her not to agitate Mrs. Campbell, and the poor creature had so far succeeded in keeping still; but when she found that the time had come when she must part DORIS AND THEODORA. 347 from her nursling never more to meet her in this life, all her self-control gave way. She threw her arms above her head with a wild cry of despair, and then clasped Theo to her heart, as if never to let her go again. The child, worn out with excitement and the effort she had made to subdue and conceal her feelings, sobbed piteously, and at last almost screamed : " Oh, Nana, Nana, I can t let you go ! You must come too you must, you must ! " "A will, my lamb!" cried the excited woman ; "de good captain will let me work all de way, to pay him, and a eat on y what keep de life in me. Oh, Missus, Missy, Mass 7 Leonard, you won t send me back ?" The boat was waiting. Mrs. Campbell, pale and wan, stood by, unable to speak ; Doris tried to say something, hut her voice died in her throat. Leonard took Theo gently from Lois s arms, and gave her to Doris ; then he put his arm about the old woman and half led, half dragged her to the ladder, while Dr. Svensen, standing up in the boat, helped her down, and, with gentle authority, hushed her moans and cries of distress. Both Doris and Leonard re proached themselves bitterly for not having anticipated and prevented this most painful scene, and poor little Theo, as her violent excitement subsided, was overwhelmed with shame and distress. Mrs. Campbell drew the little girl to her side and held her close ; and nothing could so quickly have quieted her as this, for her fear of injuring her mother entirely overpowered all other feelings. The boats pushed off. White signals fluttered from them and from the deck of the ship. The anchor was weighed, the great sails slowly filled, and the vessel stood out to sea. All the passengers, of whom, besides the Campbells and Barretts, there were some eight or ten, remained on deck, with faces turned toward the fast-retreating shore. Twilight 348 DORIS AND THEODORA. fell before they lost sight of the little city of Frederickstadt, and lights began to twinkle in a long line from the houses on Strand-street, and in various parts of the town. The crescent moon slowly followed the dying light in the west, and one by one the large, bright stars appeared. No sound was audible, save the soft plash and rush of the waves, as the keel of the ship cut through them, and an occasional flapping of a sail ; but presently one of a party of young girls, who were going out to a school in the United States, under the care of the mother of two of them, began softly to sing. The "tones of a far-off bell" had just ceased to sound faintly across the water, and seemed to have sug gested her song : " Shades of evening, close not o er us, Leave our lonely bark awhile ; Morn, alas ! will not restore us Yonder dim and distant isle. Through the mist that floats above us Faintly sounds the vesper-bell, Like a voice from those who love us, Breathing softly, Fare thee well ! " There were few dry eyes in the little company as the song ended, but there was no bitterness in the tears that were shed. The " holy calm " inspired by the beauty of the scene was felt by all hearts, and Doris was inexpressibly thankful to see her mother sink peacefully to sleep in the narrow berth which seemed calculated to repel, rather than invite, slumber. Theo, too, after a little restless tossing, followed her mother into the land of dreams, and then Doris, feeling far too wide-awake for the discomfort of the state-room, stole back to the deck, for it was barely nine o clock, and Mr. and Mrs. Barrett, Jane, Clara, and Leonard were still there, and the sweet, cool night-wind was like a whisper of peace and rest. The moon had disappeared, but her going DORIS AND THEODORA. 349 seemed to have left a legacy of light to the stars. Faint flower-scents pulsed, from time to time,, through the air, borne from the distant land, and the soft sound of "many waters," which can be heard only when they are all around and far from shore, was like the striking of harmonious chords to a tune. Involuntarily, all their voices were modu lated by the surrounding sense of peace. They spoke little ; it was far sweeter just to look and listen. The days and evenings which followed made a treasure of peaceful and lovely memories for them all. The weather remained clear and warm, and, although the winds were not always favorable, none of the passengers seemed vexed with the delay. How could they be, with the daily splendor of sunrise and sunset, the nightly glory of the waxing moon to beguile the time ? The pleasant companionship and in timacy of life on board a ship extended to the party of young girls, whose sweet voices joined with those of the Campbells and Barretts, nearly every evening, beginning with songs, and ending always with the evening hymn ; other hymns, too, were sung, as one and another named some special favorite, and the evenings seemed all too short. The captain, a kind-hearted, quick-tempered man, who had known Mr. Campbell, and knew Mr. Barrett well, often lin gered near the singers, and sometimes asked for an old- fashioned song or hymn, the memory of which had come to him as he listened, and both he and the sailors were un wearied in devising pleasures and amusements for the two little girls, who, as it happened, were the only children on board, and were petted accordingly. Doris saw with delight how the pure, sweet air, and the peaceful, untroubled life were benefiting her mother. Dr. Svensen had long ago said that a sea- voyage and a more bracing climate might do much for Mrs. Campbell, and it was evident now that he was right. Her step grew firmer 350 DORIS AND THEODORA. and stronger, her eyes brighter, and a faint color, with no suggestion of fever in it, began to show in her cheeks. Lit tle Theo, too, and indeed the whole party, seemed to breathe in health and strength, and Clara Barrett, who had net felt so well for years, indulged bright hopes of health and added usefulness in the new home. They were all good sailors, which was not to be wondered at, considering the practice on the harbor, which all had enjoyed, for sailing had been a favorite amusement, and equally popular with riding; so a few windy days, when the sea ran high and there was no little pitching about on board, did not destroy the pleasure of the voyage, but rather added to it, by giving them a new experience to remember. So it was with no little regret, and a slight feeling of dread as well, that Doris, Jane, and Clara, meeting on the deck at sunrise on the thirteenth day out, heard the cry of " Land ! " It was some little time before their untrained eyes discerned it a long, bluish-gray strip, which at first they thought must be only a cloud, but which rapidly took shape as they watched, for there was a favorable wind, and the vessel was making good speed. One after another the excited passengers came up on deck to look, and then began the gathering up and packing and arranging in preparation for the landing so soon to take place. But the preparations were finished in plenty of time, for it was, of course, some hours yet before they entered New York harbor. They had been called up before, during the voyage, when land had been sighted, but the feeling was very different this land was the place to which they were going, whose appearance told that the pleasant, restful voyage was over, and that work and anxiety were about to begin once more. They had expected to arrive by evening, but the wind suddenly changed, and sunset found them still at some distance from the Narrows, below New York. Much has been done since DORIS AND THEODORA. 351 then to improve the entrance to the harbor, and the cap tain, whom long experience had rendered cautious, slackened the speed of the ship as night approached, preferring to lose a little time rather than enter the channel by moonlight, well as the pilot was accustomed to its turnings and soundings. They were all glad of this one more unexpected evening on board, but it was almost as silent as the first had been, for they knew that next day the little company would be scattered, never to be re-united, and the acquaintanceship had been so pleasant to them that all their hearts were touched by regret. Singing, as usual, closed the evening, and it seemed to Doris that it had never been so sweet. There were promises to write to meet, if that were pos sible and then, for the last time, good-nights were ex changed, and all was still. By dawn the next morning the sails were fully spread, and the ship was skimming over the water like a bird let loose, and by noon the peace and quiet ness of the voyage were exchanged for the noise and con fusion and glare of a New York pier on a midsummer day. Draymen and hack men were shouting, the hatches were raised, and the work of unloading the ship begun, and just as Doris was turning, with a sigh, from the group of strange faces on the pier, she heard a glad exclamation and turned back, and there, with outstretched hands and faces beaming with pleasure, were Mr. Santon and Victor. CHAPTEE XXII. greetings were full of cordial pleasure on both sides. Doris had pictured to herself a forlorn land ing among strangers, without one familiar face to welcome them, and once more she was struck with the foolishness of foreboding. With Mr. Santon s help the landing was quickly effected, their luggage, with only a short delay and the form of an examination, released, and they were free to go but where ? Leonard proposed taking the entire party to a quiet hotel for that day and night, and entering, the next day, upon a search for inexpensive boarding; but Mr. Santon knew, better than he did, what a costly business this would be for such a number of people, and had another suggestion to make, which was most gratefully received. He knew of a quiet, respectable, old-fashioned lodging-house, in a left- behind neighborhood, which at this time of year was nearly empty, and here he had engaged rooms, subject to the ap proval of his friends. "I did not know," he said, smiling, "of your retinue of faithful vassals, but I have no doubt they can be accommo dated there too, if they so wish, and if they cannot, I think we can find them a place not far off, among their own peo ple. Miss Mackenzie, who keeps the lodging-house, is not exactly French-polished, but she is honest and kind-hearted, which is something." "It is almost everything," said Mrs. Barrett, gratefully ; "and any shelter from this overpowering heat would be wel come. I thought we were coming from the torrid to the temperate zone, but it feels very much the other way ! " DORIS AND THEODORA. 353 The lodging-house was but a short distance from the pier, and most of the party, despite the heat and glare, declared a preference for walking, but a carriage was called for Mrs. Campbell, Mrs. Barrett, and the two little girls, and Mr. San ton, seeing the anxious expression on Doris s face as he gave careful directions to the driver, smiled reassuringly at her, and sprang into the carriage, taking Theo on his knee. " I will leave you to Victor s pilotage," he called back as he shut the door; " he knows the way quite as well as I do, and we will be there to receive you." " I m so glad he did that," said Doris to Jane, with a sigh of relief. " It was absurd, I suppose, for me to feel anxious ; but I had a vision of that hack-driver losing our mothers and sisters in this dreadful wilderness of a city, and of our being separated, unable to find each other, for days ! " "Yes, your face expressed all that, and more," replied Jane, laughing. I never could make such imploring eyes as you can, Doris, though I must confess I felt a little un easy, myself, at their being left to the mercy of the hack- driver." "Did I make imploring eyes?" asked Doris, abashed. "I m sure I didn t mean to oh, I hope I wasn t foolish ! " " That s just the beauty of it," said Jane, with pretended mournf ulness; "if you meant to, it wouldn t be half so effective. And I don t believe anybody thought you were foolish, my dear; I m sure I didn t, for I was feeling just the same way." They had turned, following Victor s guidance, from a noisy thoroughfare into a quiet, deserted-looking street, where the tall houses on either side made shadows which, at any other time of day than high noon, must have kept the pavements comparatively cool, but now the sun, directly overhead, blazed down into the contracted space, making it 354 DORIS AND THEODORA. seem a fiery furnace, while the heat of the bricks was very decidedly felt by the girls through the thin slippers which, at that time, took the place of the sensible walking-boots of to-day. They were thankful when their conductor led the way up one of the flights of steps by which the front doors were reached, and they found that they could stand inside the shady vestibule while waiting for the door to be opened. "But how in the world did you know which house to go to, when they are all so exactly alike ? " asked Doris, with a puzzled face. " And how can we tell which one to come back to, when we go out alone ? " Victor smiled, and pointed to the number above the door, saying : " You must grave that, and the name of the street, indeli bly upon the table of your memory/ and then, should you find that you are lost, you can appeal to the first policeman you meet, to help you to find yourselves." "Well, that is some consolation," said Doris, "but I shall write the street and number on a card, and keep it in my purse I am quite sure that it would desert me, from sheer fright, if I were to try suddenly to remember it!" "That will certainly be the safer plan, then," replied Vic tor ; and just then the tardy servant, too evidently a maid- of-all-work, opened the door, and greeted them with an open- mouthed stare of astonishment, before replying to Victor s inquiry if Miss Mackenzie were at home. Hagar s Madras handkerchief, for which no persuasion would have induced her to substitute a bonnet, seemed to claim most of her Irish sister s astonished attention, but she recognized Victor, finally, and permitted the party to walk into the parlor, where they found the rest of their families, and also Mr. Santon, and Miss Mackenzie, with whom he was already bargaining for rooms. There was a look of scrupulous DORIS AND THEODORA. 355 cleanliness about the bare, sparely-furnished parlor, whose most striking feature was the absence of anything that could be removed from the house without the aid of a furniture- car, or at the very least, a hand-cart. A tall mantel-piece of black marble, with the chimney beneath closed by a sheet- iron fire-board, added to the general grimness, and Miss Mackenzie was peculiarly "in harmony with her environ ment." Tall as the mantel-piece was, she was at least half a head taller. Eyes, hair, and complexion were in three dif ferent shades of gray, and her close-fitting gown, with no superfluous adornments, was in a fourth the darkest of all. She was a large-boned, commanding-looking woman, calcu lated to inspire the most self-asserting lodger with respect, if not absolute terror ; but the somewhat unpleasant first im pression of her face underwent an immediate change when she smiled. She stated the number of vacant rooms at her disposal, and her terms for them, in a lucid and conclusive manner, but hesitated a little as she said : "I do not wish to disoblige Mr. Santon, for both he and his nephew are old patrons of my ht)use, but I have hitherto made it a rule never to take children, and although I should be very glad to fill so many rooms at this season of the year, I doubt if it would pay me, in the long run, to break through a rule which I found it expedient to make many years ago." "I am very sorry," said Mrs. Campbell, gently, and speaking for the first time; "for I dislike the idea of going to a strange and unrecommended lodging-house. Our lit tle girls have been taught to regard the comfort of others, and I do not think they would annoy you or your lodgers, but we cannot, of course, ask you to disregard your own in terest in the matter. Can you direct us to any house which you can recommend ? " No amount of persuasion could have taken effect as these 356 DORIS AND THEODORA. few words did. The sweet voice and manner, the look of refinement, and also of suffering, on Mrs. Campbell s still beautiful face, would have conquered a much harder heart than that which the honest Scotchwoman was so often obliged to silence in the everyday affairs of her harassed life. She paused for a moment, arguing with herself, and then said, with sudden decision : " You shall have the rooms, ma am I don t believe I shall repent of it, and if I should, that s my own look-out ! I suppose, from what Mr. Santon says, that you d like to get settled right away, so if you ll please to come up, you can take your choice. In my time, it was the mothers that had first choice ; but now, I believe, it s the daughters, so you can just suit yourselves!" There was a general feeling of relief, for they had all been more or less dismayed at the prospect of a farther search for rooms, in the broiling heat, before they could send for their luggage, and feel that they were even temporarily settled. Mrs. Campbell thanked Miss Mackenzie, and assured her that she would not find the children troublesome, and then inquired whether rooms could be found for Hagar and her children, at least until they could secure situations. Again the good woman hesitated, but she at last said: "There are two vacant rooms in the garret, ma am, each with a decent bed and a couple of chairs in them, and I shouldn t ask much for them, either; but the truth is, I m afraid that good-for-nothing Irish girl I have would make a fuss about waiting on them, and poor concern as she is, I ve changed till I m sick of it, and I d rather put up with her than try a new one ! " "Please, Missis, we don want no waitin on we wait on we own selves," said Hagar, eagerly. Her one great terror was that she should be separated from her " folks " in this strange country, and this overcame her reserve. DORIS AND THEODORA. 357 " If Missis let us," she went on, "we take care of our own folks rooms, all de rooms dey use and Cudjoe, he do heap o tings bout de house Missis please jus try she soon see!" "There ll be no trouble if you take care of your own rooms, my good woman," said Miss Mackenzie, kindly, " and I ll allow for it in your bill, of course. Now, Mrs. Camp bell and Mrs. Barrett, I think you said, will you come and see the rooms ? " There was a large, pleasant room at the head of the first flight of stairs, where two, or even three beds could easily be put, and this, Mrs. Barrett insisted, must be for Mrs. Campbell and her two daughters. "You know we may not be here long," she said, "for if Mr. Barrett accepts his brother s offer, we shall be obliged to live in Baltimore, and I don t in the least mind going up another flight of stairs, while it would be very bad for you, dear Agnes ; so say no more about it, please !" She would listen to no remonstrances, so it was settled accordingly; two rooms on the third floor were chosen for the Barretts, while Leonard cheerfully bestowed himself in a room on the fourth, which would have made a respectable closet for that which, as a boy, he had occupied at his uncle s. But he, too, would probably be there only for a short time ; when the summer vacation was over, he would return to his studies, at least for another year ; then, as he assured Doris, he should be entirely governed by circumstances as to whether he should continue his education or once more postpone its completion. So long as the plantation was rented, his aunt and cousins would have enough to live upon, with careful economy, and he felt that his best chance of permanently helping them was to reach his own perma nent work as speedily as possible. Not that he meant to wait for this as soon as his college course was ended, he 358 DORIS AND THEODORA. hoped to find some temporary employment, or rather, he intended to find some, which he could carry on without detriment to his medical studies; some little delay this might cause, but Leonard had a large fund of active patience in passive patience he had no faith whatever. He and Doris, with Jane and Clara, had had many long talks on the voyage, concerning their various plans and hopes. Miss McConnell had provided Doris and Jane with letters of introduction to the principal of a well-known boarding and day-school for girls, in New York, and, should these fail to find employment for them, they meant to make a list of all the schools of which they could hear, and go systematically from one to the other, willing to accept the smallest begin ning, rather than be idle. Jane, too, had hope of finding employment for her pencil, if not in the sort of work she liked best, then in some humbler way. " Think of all the designs which are emblazoned on Japanned waiters and tin things of various sorts," she said, "of all the patterns that are needed for wall-papers, and chintzes, and oil-cloths ! I can surely find scope for my genius in some one or more of these departments !" Clara, who had little confidence in her mental abilities, and whose health, beside, was too uncertain for her to enter into any fixed engagement which would make regular hours a necessity, hoped to find a market for some of the various kinds of embroidery and delicate needlework in which she was proficient, but she said little about it, for she saw that it troubled her parents and sister, who had so long been used to saving her from all difficult and tiresome tasks, that they were slow to admit the improvement in her health, or that it would add to her happiness to be allowed to take her share of the burden. But, as so often happens, circum stances changed or modified nearly all their plans. Mr. Barrett s older brother, who, several years before, had DORIS AND THEODORA. 359 gone into business in Baltimore, but who had not, at first, succeeded very well, wrote that he was at last beginning to prosper, and that he could offer his brother employment, at least for the present, and, if things continued to go well, a share in the business. And, just as the girls were lamenting the separation which must ensue, and the fact that Jane would have no opportunity to present her letter to Miss Henderson, the principal of the school where they had hoped to find employment, Mr. Santon called to say good-bye, be fore setting out upon a long journey through the southern and western States ; but he had not come only to say good bye ; he asked Doris if she would permit him to have his piano brought to her room, to remain there during his absence ; it was a very fine one, and the room in which he should otherwise leave it was a little damp, when it was kept closed. "It will need some daily exercise, too," he said, with the grave, pleasant smile which Doris so well remembered, "and perhaps you will grant me the favor of giving it?" The conflict in Doris s mind between eager pleasure at the prospect of once more having the use of a piano, and doubt whether she ought to accept the favor, was so evident in her face, that Mr. Santon, turning to Mrs. Campbell, said earnestly : " Believe me, dear Mrs. Campbell, the obligation will be very great to me if you will permit me to do this. I may, may I not ? " " How can I refuse a favor so skillfully bestowed ? " she said, gratefully. " Doris has been very patient under the deprivation, but I know how great it has been, and I can only thank you for this most kind thought." " Oh, you don t know how much pleasure you-are giving to both of us all of us!" cried Doris, joyfully, all her 360 DORIS AND THEODORA. doubts removed by her mother s sanction ; " and I will be so very, very careful of it ! " " I do not doubt that for a moment," he replied; "all I ask is that you will not be too careful ; that you will use it as freely as if it were your own. For you will find, I fear, a little difficulty in making up for lost time, and, if you con clude to accept this" and he handed her a letter "you will be obliged to work diligently in the interval. Will you read it, and tell me what you think ? I have something for you, too, Miss Barrett, from the same source;" and he handed Jane the perfect fac-simile, in outward appearance, of the letter he had just given Doris. " You see," he said, turning once more to Mrs. Campbell, "my long experience as a teacher has given me a rather large acquaintance among other teachers, and this has made it possible for me to further your daughter s plans, and those of Miss Barrett, a little. I have taught in Miss Henderson s school for several years, and she was kind enough to listen to a suggestion I made the other day." The two letters contained similar offers, one for drawing, the other for music ; these were, that Doris and Jane should each teach a class of little girls for the ensuing school year, receiving in payment lessons from excellent teachers. "I will make no. promises as to the future," wrote Miss Henderson, " beyond saying, that it will rest very much with yourself to decide whether or not you will be qualified for a salaried position at the end of the year; but, from what Mr. Santon tells me, I think I may safely say that it is quite probable that you may be." Whatever trouble Mr. Santon might have taken to secure these offers, he was well repaid for it by the earnest thanks which he received and disclaimed. " But were you not afraid to recommend us," inquired Doris, " without knowing more about our qualifications ? " DORIS AND THEODORA. 361 " More than what ? " asked Mr. San ton, in turn. "More than than you did !" and Doris joined in the laugh which followed. " You seem to forget," said Mr. Santon, as he rose to go, " that I have a sister and niece in Santa Cruz, and that I have great confidence in their judgment." " Then it was Antoinette," said Doris. " Oh, how can I thank you both ? " " I can t answer for my niece," he replied, " but for my self, I am already quite sufficiently, more than sufficiently, thanked." And with a friendly good-bye to each of them, he was gone. Mr. and Mrs. Barrett readily consented to leave Jane in Mrs. Campbell s care, that she might avail herself of this un looked-for opportunity, and the girls went to work at once, with all diligence. Doris had consulted Miss Mackenzie about having the piano brought upstairs, and the landlady had replied : "It s none of my business, I suppose; but it strikes me that if your practising is going to amount to anything, it will about wear the life out of that patient-looking mother of yours. Now, see here," and she threw open a door which led from the hall into a small room behind the parlor, which Doris had not yet seen. It contained a lounge, two or three chairs, a round table, and a small but well-filled book-case. " This is what I call my sitting-room," she continued, with a grimly-ironical smile ; " but I m like a bird of paradise, in one respect, nobody ever sees me light in the daytime, anyhow and if you choose to have your piano put here, you can practise all day, if you like, without disturbing a soul." " Oh, thank you," said Doris, gratefully, "how kind you are; but I don t feel as if I ought to use another room 16 3G2 DORIS AND THEODORA. in this way without paying something for it, and I m afraid " "Very well," interrupted Miss Mackenzie, with a refresh ing disregard of ceremony ; " then you can pay me by sing ing me a Scotch song once in a while if I should ever hap pen to have the time to sit down and listen to you." " Indeed I will," said Doris, warmly ; " and may I pay you just a little, now ? " And before the astonished landlady could retreat, Doris had pressed a kiss upon that stern brow ! Miss Mackenzie was actually induced to sit down for an hour, on the evening after the arrival of the piano, which, with its pretty cover, furnished the bare little sitting-room wonderfully. Mr. Santon had sent a man to tune the piano, thinking it might be jarred by the removal, so it was in per fect order when Doris sat down to it after tea, and for that evening troubles and anxieties were almost forgotten. It was Leonard s last day with them, for he was returning to college a little before the close of the vacation, that he might pick up various dropped stitches, and be in readiness for the beginning of-the term ; and amid all his gladness at the prospect of resuming his studies, was a great regret that he must leave his adopted mother and sisters to take care of each other. Indeed, he had wavered a little towards the last, and suggested the possibility of finding a clerkship in New York for a few months; but to this suggestion neither Mrs. Campbell nor Doris would listen for a moment, insisting that they needed no help, and that he must dismiss all anxiety about them from his mind. This he could not do, but he could at least refrain from adding his anxiety to theirs, and he strove hard, and with good success, to make their last few days together cheerful ones. As one and another called for favorite songs, on that last evening, the present seemed to fade away, and the past to DORIS AND THEODORA. 3G3 return. The sea-breeze which makes New York so much more tolerable in summer than any inland city, swept in at the open window, and little Theo, nestling close to her mother, whispered : " I am shutting my eyes, and really believing that we are at home, and that the house, and sister s piano, never were burnt at all!" Mrs. Campbell smiled, and said nothing to dispel the illusion; if it had been Doris to whom Theo confided this little arrangement with herself, the reply would probably have been : " But, Theo, you were only a baby when the house was burnt, and you can t remember when I had the piano at all ! " In common with many imaginative children, Theo had many imaginary recollections things of which she heard her mother and sister speak frequently grew, in time, to seem to her like memories, and Mrs. Campbell was very careful, whenever it was necessary to set her right, to do so with great gentleness, and without the least insinuation that she was willfully untruthful. She had warned Doris more than once about this, for it was not easy for Doris s down right, rather literal mind, to make allowance for some of her little sister s mental vagaries. The family sat long that evening in Mrs. Campbell s room, which, by means of a screen and curtain, had been divided into bedroom and parlor. A large, strange city seems, some times, a much more lonely place than the most secluded country house, and Leonard s heart sank very low as he thought how utterly alone his dear ones would be. "If you were not such a dear, brave, capable little general," he said to Doris, as he clasped her hands to bid her good-night, " and if you had not Cudjoe s strength and devotion to fall back upon, I should give up this college- 364 DORIS AND THEODORA. business, even now, and stay to take care of you all. I feel like a miserable renegade, and as if I needn t expect my little affairs to prosper, after leaving you in this way ! " " But you know I am dear and brave and capable ! " said Doris, smiling up at him; "and with mamma so much better than we ever hoped to see her, and Theo so well, and Miss Mackenzie so strong and kind, and this unhoped-for chance of immediate work, I should be ungrateful indeed, if I were discontented, or afraid. Dear Leonard, it comes to rne so often Hitherto hath the Lord helped me/ and that dear old verse of the hymn the servants were all so fond of " Here I raise my Ebenezer, Hither by Thy help I ve come, And I hope, by Thy good pleasure, Safely to arrive at home. " "Yes," said Mrs. Campbell, "when the Help has been proved, as we have proved it, we have no right to doubt or fear ; but I know just how you are feeling, my dear boy I have often thought how much more easy it is to be calm and trustful about one s self than about those one loves best." " That is just it," said Leonard, earnestly ; " but I sup pose that is quite as much a want of faith more, perhaps than distrusting about one s self. Dear Aunt Agnes, will you have prayers with us to-night? Do you feel strong enough ? No, I see you don t you look all tired out, and I must let you go to bed." " I believe I am too tired," she replied, " or, at least, my voice is too weak ; but, Leonard dear, will you not read them in my place ? We shall all like to remember it when you are so far away." It required no little effort on Leonard s part to do this, for,, frank as he was, he was reserved about his deepest feel- DORIS AND THEODORA. ings; but his hesitation was scarcely perceptible, and when once he had begun, he quite forgot himself, and the loving thanks which he read in the eyes of his aunt and cousins more than repaid him for the self-conquest. CHAPTEE XXIII. rTIHE departure of Mr. and Mrs. Barrett, Clara and Helen, took place soon after that of Leonard, and then Mrs. Campbell s family, with the addition of Jane Barrett, who already seemed completely one with it, settled into a quiet routine quiet, but not monotonous, for Doris and Jane were both on the alert to import small pleasures into it, and small changes for the better. It can readily be imagined that the great change in all their surroundings, in their mode of living in everything, in short, but their individuality had caused many a struggle, and not a few tears tears which each had as carefully con cealed from the rest as if they were high treason. For a little while, they had all been uneasy about Theo. She had not complained, but appetite and strength had failed, and they found that she slept but little. She clung to little Helen, and every day, almost at the same hour, the two children disappeared together for an hour or so, gener ally coming back with red eyes. But shortly before Helen went away, Theo returned alone to her mother s room, hav ing vanished with Helen at the usual time, but remained only ten or fifteen minutes. She was not crying, but there was a look of offended dignity on her gentle little face, very unusual to it. She sat quietly down with a book, but rose at once when Mrs. Campbell said : " Where do you go every day, darling, and where is Helen ? I have been waiting for you to tell me of your own accord." " Helen is in that funny little garret where Miss Macken zie said we could play, mamma," replied Theo, drawing a DORIS AND THEODORA. 3G7 footstool close to her mother, and sitting down on it, "and that is where we have been every day; but I shall not go there any more, so I don t mind telling you now the only reason why I have not told you was because I thought it would make you unhappy. We went every day to talk about the Island, and and everything, you know, and to cry; but Helen never could remember so many things as I could nice things, that is and she did not cry much, even at first ; and to-day, when I went up there, she had taken up our dolls and things, and made a play-house of it, and as soon as I went in, she said : See here, Theo, I really don t wish to cry any more. I like it here ; it isn t as if we had nobody with us we have everybody we love best. Let s play live in a house, just for to-day, and then, if you don t like it, I will take the things away; but you will have to cry by yourself, for I can t do it any more. So I just came right away was it rude in me to do that, mamma, without say ing anything?" " I am afraid it was a little rude, darling. And Theo, suppose 1 should be obliged to sell the nicest of your clothes, and some of your books and playthings, should you care very much so long as you knew that I loved you just as dearly, and would always keep you near me ? " " Why, mamma, of course I shouldn t ! You didn t even think I would, did you ? " " No, for I know how much you love me. And, dear little girl, if we love our Heavenly Father as we should, we shall care but little when He takes some of the good things of this world away, for reasons which we cannot now understand, so long as He loves us and keeps us in His loving care. Does it look like trusting Him, to keep on mourning for what we have lost, instead of giving thanks for the many, many good things that are left?" Theo hid her face on her mother s knee, as she said : 368 DORIS AND THEODORA. "Ob, mamma! I never thought of it in that way before. I wish I bad. I am very, very sorry and He knows that, doesn t He ? And I will go straight back, mamma, and beg Helen s pardon for being rude, and play with her as long as she likes it is a dear little play-room, and she had made it look so pretty, and I never even said so. Good-bye, mamma; I m afraid she will come down, if I don t hurry." "Stop half-a-minnte, darling there is a parcel for the dolls, which I made up this morning, on my bureau ; take it with you, and divide it between Helen s children and your own." "Oh, mamma! What lovely things are sticking out of the ends! Thank you so very much!" and with another fervent kiss, she was gone, to appear no more until the dinner-hour arrived, when she and Helen came down hand- in-hand, and with faces expressing great content with each other and the world in general. Mrs. Campbell had been afraid that when Helen s happy, healthy influence was removed, Theo would once more suf fer from despondency and homesickness and again she had reason to chide herself for foolish fears. Jane had roomed with her two sisters, and it was decided, when they went away, that she and Doris should share a somewhat smaller room, directly over Mrs. Campbell s. The only disadvantage of this arrangement was, that the latter room faced south, while in the former Jane had enjoyed the " north light " dear to all artists. The little garret of which the children had grown so fond had a large dormer window facing north, and here, the day after her family went away, Jane carried all her drawing and painting materials, having first asked formal permission of the small householder, whose dolls occupied so much of the floor that Jane found some difficulty in making her way to DORIS AND THEODORA. 369 the window, the broad seat of which served excellently for a table. Jane had offered to pay Miss Mackenzie a small rent for the use of this room, and had been answered thus: "Rent! For that poke-hole! I know I m not pretty, Miss Barrett, but if I look like that, I d better wear a veil. You take your traps up there, if you can find room to turn round in after you ve got them there, and say no more about any such nonsense as rent, if you want me to keep civil." Ah! what happy hours "that poke-hole" witnessed, all through the long, pleasant days of the autumn that followed. Miss Mackenzie spirited away a variety of lumber which she comprehensively classed as "trash"; the dolls were rele gated to one carefully-measured half of the narrow space, and it was one of the delights of Theo s life to devise sur prises for Jane in the way of decoration or convenience for "her half." There were long conversations between the occupants of the studio, as Theo insisted that the lumber- garret must now be called ; and the little girl patiently posed for Jane, or helped to arrange drapery, flowers, or whatever happened to be the study for the day. Jane found herself entering into the visions and "pretends" of her small companion with an earnestness and pleasure at which she smiled when she was alone, and no one would have guessed, from Theo s manner, that they were not of precisely the same age. They were both lamenting the supposed inevitable necessity of giving up the studio when the weather should become a little colder, for already a few frosty nights had made it uncomfortably chilly, and Mrs. Campbell was nervously anxious that Theo should not begin the winter with a cold. "And such a little, little stove would warm it!" said Theo, wistfully; "and that place where the paper is pasted must be a pipe-hole and oh, Jeanie, mustn t it be nice to have 370 DORIS AND THEODORA. enough money to walk into a big stove-store, and pick out a darling little stove, with a place to show the fire, and may be even a place where one could roast chestnuts and bake apples ! " "Now, Theodora!" said Jane, in the tone of playful argument she so often used with Theo, " don t you see that if we had the money to be buying stoves in that lordly man ner, we should disdain the poke-hole, and hire a studio over a picture-store on Broadway ? " But Theo shook her head wisely, saying: "Suppose, Jeanie, you were to sell just one of these lovely pictures then you could buy a stove ; but you couldn t rent that grand studio ! And I wish you d please not call this the poke-hole you know it really isn t any more, for Miss Mac kenzie has put every one of the pokes somewhere else, and it is really and truly a studio now." Jane always declared that Miss Mackenzie, being a Scotch woman, was endowed with the gift of "second sight," and a few mornings after the above conversation took place, there was something like a confirmation of this theory. Breakfast and tea were served in the dining-room to as many of the lodgers as chose to order them, and Mrs. Campbell s family was of this number. Dinner, through the unobtrusive kind ness of Mr. Santon, was sent them every day from a neigh boring club-house, where, for a very moderate weekly pay- ment, they obtained plain, but well-cooked and nicely-served meals. Miss Mackenzie, in her bird-of-paradise role, presided over the meals, pouring tea and coffee, directing the clumsy servant, and taking scrupulous care of the comfort of her lodgers. She paused in one of her flights, this morning, behind Jane s chair, just as the latter was folding her nap kin, and said, briskly : " Miss Barrett, will you step out here a moment ? " DORIS AND THEODORA. 371 Jane followed her to the kitchen, wondering a little, but with no misgivings as to loss of appetite as the penalty, for cleanliness came very near indeed to the good landlady s godliness. Will any one who reads this, I wonder, remember a cer tain style of stove, shaped like the bandboxes in use at that time, slightly elongated, but of about the size which an old- time hat and plume required a bandbox to be ? Rough little affairs they were, with a door which never would shut quite tightly, fastened with a big, clumsy "thumb-latch," and a smaller door in this, by way of draught, latched with a piece of twisted iron wire. Four spider-legs, with droll little flat feet, gave the affair an uncannily life-like look, and the pipe went up, without any complication of dampers and regu lators, but simply and straightforwardly, from the extreme back of the top. But what roaring, crackling hickory fires the grandmothers listened to, as they sat about these sociable little stoves, and what delightful possibilities of amateur cooking lay upon the smooth, level top! One of these, blacked till it shone, stood near the kitchen door, and Miss Mackenzie, as usual, proceeded at once to the point. "You can t use that garret much longer without a fire, Miss Barrett, and I thought perhaps you d like this. I ve no earthly use for it, but mother was fond of it, and I can t bring myself to send it away, though very likely that s all foolishness people who keep lodgers have no business to try to keep sentiments too. But that s neither here nor there good hickory wood lasts longer than you d think in it, and a cord would about see you through the winter, I should think, if you re careful. Xow what I have to say is this and where no offence is meant none must be taken perhaps you don t sell your things, but there s a little picture of a waterfall that I saw the day you were kind enough to show me some of them, and I want it for that sitting-room where 372 DORIS AND THEODORA. I never sit. I know a place I ve dealt there a good many years where I could get you some honest, sound hickory wood, and I ll give you a cord and a half for that picture your man could cut it up for you, evenings, in the cellar, and it will burn all the longer for being fresh cut. Now, what do you say ? Is it a bargain ? " "Oh," cried Jeanie, her face beaming with delight, "you lovely woman, you good fairy ! Is it a bargain, she says ! That poor little picture for a whole winter s happiness! Are you sure you re not cheating yourself ? May I do it with a clear conscience? Then you must let me hug you, whether you like it or not ! " And Jane s slender arms gave that gaunt form such a hug ging as it had never experienced since the days when it was young and round and fair, and a little sister, " gone away " long ago, had said : "I love you dearly, dearly, Grizzie!" " Then it s a bargain," said Miss Mackenzie, with a curi ous shake in her voice, "and the boy can carry it up to night and fix the pipe, and the wood shall be here to-mor row, and, my dear, I can t make speeches, but you and your folks are the first lodgers I ve ever had who cared a brass farthing what became of me, so long as their rooms and victuals suited them ; and I don t slop over the way some do, but I don t forget, the way they do, either." She stalked away, and Jane flew to tell her good news before it should be time to go to school for both she and Doris had begun to go by this time and oh, the jubilation in Mrs. Campbell s room over that spider-legged stove and the cord and a half of hickory wood ! And Miss Mackenzie? She went into her sitting-room, locked the door, and sat down! She sat for fully ten minutes, with one hand shading her sharp eyes, and they DORIS AND THEODORA. 373 did not look very sharp when she sprang up, saying sternly : " What a dreadful old fool I am ! " That afternoon Jane and Theo started on a pilgrimage as soon as the former returned from school. Jane carried a flat parcel, and they went into shop after shop where pictures of any kind were displayed in the window. It was nearly dark when they at last came out from the most imposing-looking one into which they had ventured, minus the parcel, and plus a look of triumph on their faces, and, safe in Jane s purse, three dollars! A quick flight was made then to a frame-maker s shop, a neat and pretty frame was bought, from a measurement Jane carried, and that evening, when Miss Mackenzie lit the lamp in the sitting-room, the water fall was hanging on the Avail. "Now, she s gone and bought that frame," soliloquized the landlady, " but it isn t an expensive one, and I ll just take it as it s meant there s little enough of that done in this world, dear knows ! " Jane had feared a remonstrance, and her mind was much relieved by the brief, sincere thanks which came instead. In truth, the frame had cost but a third of her suddenly- acquired wealth, and that night, as she and Doris made ready for bed, Jane exclaimed: " Doris, you know how it always is with easily-acquired riches ! I am seized with an uncontrollable fit of extravagance. To-morrow I shall buy one hundred of the largest oysters to be found at the wharf, a dozen of the very best French rolls, and a pound of golden butter, and to-morrow night, when the day s work and labor is over and done, we will put your mother in a chair and give her to Cud joe, and we will deck llagar and Pareen in white aprons, and w r e will lay violent hands on Miss Grizzie I have just discovered that her name is Grizzie, and I mean always to call her that behind her 374 DORIS AND THEODORA. back and then we will spread a royal feast in the studio, with obsequious menials behind (nearly) every chair oh, and a pound of candles illuminating the festive scene ; and because we have not a pound of candlesticks, and the potato is a dull and soulless vegetable, we will even buy a quarter of a peck of bright red apples, and they will be quite good enough to eat afterward, if we cut them carefully and wrap the candles in paper. Why don t you applaud ? why don t you answer, Doris ? You are as bad as a potato candle stick !" "I have been patiently waiting for a chance," said Doris, laughing; "you wouldn t have had me interrupt that flow of eloquence? It will be truly magnificent, and if I had a thing that I could sell, I would ask the privilege of contrib utingas it is, I will lend my intellect, my useful hands, and my influence, and anything else of which you can think, dear Jeanie!" Theo s rapture, when the plan was confided to her in the morning, was far too deep and high for words, and found ex pression in deeds. Much to Miss Mackenzie s silent amuse ment, a large basket, a broom, dustpan, brush and duster were borrowed from the kitchen, as soon as the short school- hours with Mrs. Campbell were ended ; all assistance was gently* but firmly declined; and when Jane and Doris re paired to the studio to put it in order, behold, it shone with cleanliness ; the dolls, with all their belongings, had van ished, and in the middle of the room were two small tables, placed close together, and covered with a snowy cloth. The stove had been sent up the day before, with a basket of wood which Miss Mackenzie had insisted upon "lending" till the load arrived, and Pareen had been graciously permitted to bring the tables from Mrs. Campbell s room to the door of the studio, but no farther! Doris and Jane and Theo have dined many times since DORIS AND THEODORA. 375 then, in spacious rooms, with brilliant lights and brilliant people, but no feast has ever shone for them as this one shone. Even Hagar s stolid face caught a gleam of the brightness, the gravity fled from Cudjoe s, and once more his mtfuth threatened to bisect his entire head, while Pareen, resplendent in her mother s gayest turban, and a volumi nous white apron tied over what Theo called her Sundayest gown, retired to the passage, at short intervals, that she might "let a little o de laugh out n her." "And mamma never said a word about the smoke, except that roast oysters had such a delightful smell," wrote Theo, in describing the banquet to Helen. " And oh, Helen, you know we thought Miss Mackenzie so stern, and not exactly cross, but well, you know ; and she said the very funniest things of any of us, and made us laugh till we nearly cried!" This work-a-day world may be full of briars but what lovely, star-like blossoms grow upon the thorny bramble- stems, and what sweet fruit ripens on them, in the scorching summer sun ! Mrs. Campbell was at first uneasy as to the future of Hagar, Pareen, and Cudjoe but, as usual, the phantom vanished as the realities drew near. Hagar soon saw her opportunity, and, saying nothing, began to make herself first useful, and then almost indispensable to the comfort of the house, offering, by skilful degrees, to attend to the cooking while the Irish "idiot," as Miss Mackenzie always called her in speaking of her, was busy elsewhere. It will not be imagined that this manoeuvring escaped the sharp eyes of the landlady, but nothing was said until one evening, when Hagar, lingering about the door, hearing praises, sweet to her soul, of the coffee, the buckwheat cakes, and the "pone," was suddenly pounced upon by Miss Mackenzie, of 376 DORIS AND THEODORA. whom she stood profoundly and amusingly in awe, and the following dialogue ensued : " You cooked the supper, didn t you ? " " A didn t mean no harm, ma am." " But did you cook .the supper ? " " Katy didn finish de upstairs work, ma am, and she say de steps is so heavy " "Now, Hagar, I am not going to eat you just tell me plainly, how long have you been doing the cooking? A week?" "A couldn t tell exactly, ma am but a don tink it any less dan a week 1 " "Well," resignedly, "if you lose, it s your own fault here s a dollar and a half ; Katy has just given me a week s notice, and I ve given her a week s wages, and a talking-to that I think she ll remember, and told her to clear out to night, and if you want the place, at a dollar and a half a week, and Pareen will do the upstairs work for a dollar, you can clean that creature s room, and move into it to-morrow, and then clean your room for two new lodgers that want it!" Hagar was speechless for a moment, bewildered by the splendor of the offer! Then she said-, slowly: " And Missy mean to pay Pareen and me, stead of a payin* her to let us stay ? Does Missy mean dat fo certain true?" "Yes, I mean just that!" said Miss Mackenzie, briskly, but kindly ; "and then, instead of getting your dinner from Mrs. Campbell, you ll have all your meals here in my kitchen, you understand? And I don t mind telling you why I want you both, and may even want Cudjoe too, before long, for you ve the gift and grace of keeping your mouth shut. I think I see my way tc renting the house next to this, and filling it, too ; I shall have a gate cut in the fence, DORIS AND THEODORA. 377 and it won t be such a great deal more trouble to keep two than it is to keep one. So now you go ask Mrs. Campbell what she thinks, and let me know at once there s no time to lose there never is, for that matter ! " Hagar took the landlady s strong, hard hand, and pressed it to her lips. " God bless Missy for dis ! " she said. " De money mos gone, and if Missy didn do dis, den we hab to leabe our own folks, and go wuk mong strangers. Missy, heah me promise you now a serbe you like you nebber serbe befo ! and Pareen too ! " " 1 believe she will!" said Miss Mackenzie to herself, as Hagar went swiftly up to Mrs. Campbell s room with her wonderful news ; and that belief was justified ; there is no service like that which is prompted by love and gratitude, and although Miss Mackenzie, in her inflexible honesty, tried again and again to explain to Hagar that she was under no obligation, it was, as the good landlady was forced to admit, "like pouring water on a duck s back." Hagar would smile the slow, serious smile which was her nearest approach to a laugh, and say gravely : " Missy say dat because she so good she needn tell me a not bliged to her for keepin us in de same house wid our own ladies ! " The second house was taken and filled, in the course of the winter, and then Cudjoe, who had obtained Work as porter in a store, and was uncomplainingly suffering much from the cold and the heavy lifting, gladly gave up his situa tion, to serve as waiter, bootblack, and man-of-all-work. Miss Mackenzie, in holding the interview which decided this, wound up with "There s one condition if I take you, you ll be called John. I always have to think two or three times to recall your outlandish name, though I suppose it was all right 378 DORIS AND THEODORA. where you came from, and where, I judge, there s a good deal more spare time than there is here." " Missy may call me whatever she likes best," said Cudjoe, smiling broadly, "and I ll serve her just as faithful by one name as another." Leonard managed to make two or three short visits in the course of the winter, cheered, each time, by the evident improvement in his aunt s and Theo s health, and by the real enjoyment of their work manifested by both Doris and Jane. The latter sold more than one of her drawings in the course of the winter, at the shop which had taken the first that she offered, and always at better prices. "I suppose it was sinful pride," she said to Doris one night, " that made me resolve to sell nothing more until I could do some work that satisfied myself, and I am very glad that emergency broke down my resolution, for I see now that I shall never be satisfied with anything I do, and it is so very nice to have the money." Doris had the more difficult lesson of patience to learn, for her work could bring her in no tangible return until the expiration of the year for which she was engaged in Miss Henderson s school, and, with the amount of daily practis ing which was necessary, and her little cares for her mother and Theo, no time was left, even had she been in a position to command any kind of work for which she would have been paid. But the "patient continuance " was rewarded. When the time expired, Miss Henderson offered her a very fair salary, with the privilege of instruction continued, and the fear, resolutely suppressed but yet dimly present, that the planta tion might not be rented for another year, was proved groundless it had done well under the new management, and a small advance on the rent paid the first year was offered, together with a proposal to lease it for five years at DORIS AND THEODORA. 379 the same rate. A similar offer was made to Mr. Barrett, and in both cases gladly accepted. Mr. Santou did not return to claim his piano until about the middle of the winter, and then he tried to invent sundry good reasons for leaving it where it was ; but Doris, though grateful, was resolute. It was sent home, with warm thanks, and in excellent order, but before Doris could speak to Miss Henderson about an arrangement for practising at the school, a very good hired piano took possession of the sitting- room, and Jane, in a few earnest words, reconciled Doris to the fact that she Jane had paid six months rent in ad vance for it. " You have assured me that I am as dear to you as if I were really your sister/ she said ; " now prove it, my dear. I am not pinching myself to do this I have sold more than enough of my drawings, in the last month, to pay for it, and I promise you that, should the time come when I want and you have, you shall find me a capital taker. And it s hard to work without tools, you know." Doris submitted ; she knew that what Jane had said was true, and then " where love breathes, pride dieth." " Doris ! " said Jane, suddenly, after a long silence, one day when they were both in the studio it was a legal holi day, and the two had been looking over Jane s portfolio " Doris ! do you remember hearing mamma tell how, once, when Clara and I were extremely small, I was offered a banana which she had declined, and answered, grandly, Nuuno, me fren ,* Jeanie doesn t eat anybody s leabins 7 ?" " Yes," said Doris, laughing ; " but what possessed you to think of that, just now ? " " I suppose," said Jane, slowly, and with a contradictory smile and sigh, " because I ve just made up my mind subject, of course, to the parental sanction to take Hilda s leabins ." * A favorite expression of the negroes. 380 DORIS AND THEODORA. " Oh, Jeanie ! " and Doris sprang up and caught Jane in her arms; "have you, really? Has Leonard ? have you " "Yes," said Jane, laughing and blushing, now. " I have really, and he has, and I have ; but you needn t choke me, dear. It s dreadfully foolish, of course, for it will be at least three or four years before before we can so much as buy bread, not to speak of such a luxury as cheese; but Leonard seemed possessed with an idea that, because he had at last discovered my priceless worth, somebody else might, and so oh, Doris, I wish I could forget about Hilda it s the one little bitter drop." " Now, Jeanie ! " said Doris, earnestly ; " you mustn t let it be. Leonard certainly thought he loved her ; but he told me, only the last time he was at home, that he was sure now he was mistaken ; that if Hilda had not been so beautiful, he would never have imagined it, and that he was thankful, from the bottom of his heart, that it all happened as it did ; and although I was puzzled for awhile, I can see, now, that what he feels for you is as much wider and deeper and stronger, as the ocean is, compared with a millpond; and I know you see it, too, or you wouldn t have accepted him." " It certainly isn t my beauty ! " and Jane made a whim sical grimace at her face in a small looking-glass; "and if I am foolish, why, I am one of a goodly company, which is consoling ! " " But you re not foolish," said Doris, warmly. " Leonard is worthy of anybody s love ; and oh, Jeanie, I am so glad it is you, and not some strange, outside person, with whom I should have been obliged to make acquaintance! Have you told mamma yet ? " " Yes, I told her last evening ; don t you remember, I went back to her room after we came up, for I somehow couldn t go to sleep till I d told her, when my own mother wasn t DORIS AND THEODORA. 381 here, and she was just as lovely as she always is, and we cried a little, softly, for fear of waking Theo, and I was so glad you were asleep when I came back ! You see, Leonard and I are both so busy, that we can very well afford to wait, and I think it will be quite pleasant to be engaged, Doris he writes such agreeable letters ! " Some one says that stories stop, but do not end. It is time for this small story to stop, and yet there is a little more that might be told. Doris is still very young, when it leaves her; Mr. San ton had not, so far, been a successful man, from the world s point of view. He had raised the popular standard and tone,, concerning music; he had given some beautiful music to the world, but he had not made much money. And he was hesitating, just as Leonard hesitated concerning Hilda, doubting whether he, a still unsuccessful man, nearly forty years old, had any right to ask such a woman as Doris to share his poverty, or wait indefinitely for him to grow rich. But his eyes were more eloquent than he imagined, and Doris was a very different woman from Hilda! Meantime, days well filled with work, done with heartfelt enthusiasm, cannot be days of repining or discontent. And the best and brightest blessings come to those who, in all things, seek to bless. STANDARD AND POPULAR BOOKS PUBLISHED BY WAVERLEY NOVELS." By SIR WALTER SCOTT. *\V"averley. *Uuy M annexing. The Antiquary. Rob Roy. Black Dwarf; and Old Mortality. The Heart of Mid-Lothian. The Brid of Lammennoor; and A Legend of Moutrose. * I van hoe. Th.- Monastery. The Aibott. Kenilworth. The Fortunes of Nigel. Peveril of the Peak. Qncntin Durward. t$t. Ronan s Well. Red gauntlet. The Betrothed ; and The Talisman. Woodstock. The Fair Maid of Perth. 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He has revived the novel of genu ine practical life, as it existed in the works of Fielding, Smo lett, and l.old- snith but at the same time has given to his material an individual coloring and expression peculiarly his own. His characters, like those ot his great exemplars" constitute a world of their own, whose truth to nature every reader instinctively recognizes in connection with their truth to darkness." E. P. Whipvle. MACAULAY S HISTORY OF ENGLAND From the accession of James II Bv THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY. With a steel portrait of the author. Printed from new cloctrotypo plates from the last English Edition. Being by jar the moat correct edition in the American market 5 volumes 12mo Cloth, extra, black and gold, per set $5.00, ^> edges, per set, $7,50; half imitation Russia, $7.50; half call, gilt, marbled edges, per set, $15.00. Popular Edition. 5 vols., cloth, plain, $o.OO 8vo. Edition. 5 volumes in one, with portrait. Cloth, extra, bla<;k and gold, $3.00; sheep, marbled edges, $3.oO. MARTINEAU S HISTORY OF ENGLAND. of the 19th Century to the Crimean War TINEAU. Complete in 4 vols., with full Index, black and gold, per set, $4.00 ; sheep, marbled edges, $0.00 , calf, gilt, marbled edges, $12.00.