ALL ABOUT EDITH 
 
 MRS. JAMES MASON 
 
 1 A sacred burden is the life ye bear, . 
 Look on it, lift it, bear it solemnly. 
 Stand up and walk beneath it steadfastly, 
 Fail not for sorrow, falter not for sin, 
 But onward, upward, till the goal ye win." 
 
 FRANCES ANNE KKMBLE. 
 
 TROY, N. Y. : 
 
 H. B. NIMS & COMPANY. 
 1878.
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1877, 
 Bv H. B. NIMS & COMPANY. 
 
 Nw York : J. J. LHtle * Co., Printer*, 
 10 to to Actor Place.
 
 TO 
 
 THE REV. FRANK L. NORTON 
 
 is 
 
 AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED 
 BY THE AUTHOR. 
 
 2043317
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 1 Some chord in unison with what we hear 
 Is touched within us and the heart replies." 
 
 COWPER. 
 
 F was the early part of October. One 
 of those autumnal sunsets that no pen 
 can describe was fading in the west, 
 and the shadows of evening were deepening 
 in the recesses of the cheerful room where 
 Alice Le Roy, a young but mature girl, was 
 standing, listlessly watching the distant hills. 
 She was startled by the entrance of her moth- 
 er, a delicate woman, possessing the quiet and 
 refined air of one who has always lived at 
 ease and in comfort. 
 
 " Alice dear, has your sister Edith returned? " 
 
 5
 
 6 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 " Why, mamma, I supposed she was home 
 an hour since ; really you are too indulgent to 
 that child, allowing her to ride without Mat- 
 thew. I am afraid she will meet with some 
 fearful accident yet. Madge is as safe as a 
 horse can be; but Edith is so reckless, she 
 never looks where she is going, and now for 
 her to remain out so late it is really un- 
 safe." 
 
 " You know, Alice, I cannot help it. She 
 did not like Matthew with her, and several 
 times got rid of him by dashing down side 
 roads, leaving the poor fellow to wander around 
 for hours, fearing to return without her. You 
 know she has promised papa to ride slowly if 
 he would allow her to go alone. I envy her 
 that exuberance of spirits she possesses, and 
 often wish you had some of it." 
 
 " But, mamma, she is large, and looks so 
 like a girl of eighteen. She should try to con- 
 trol some of her childish ways ; but Miss Wil- 
 son is so fond of her, she is blind to her faults. 
 If papa and Henry were more at home, they 
 would soon discover room in her for improve- 
 ment. I do so wish Henry did not have to go
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 7 
 
 to town every day. Will he be obliged to be 
 away so much during the fall, mamma ? " 
 
 " I hardly know, my dear. Papa seems 
 very anxious about business lately." 
 
 N , easy of access to the city, was situ- 
 ated on a superb bay, and commanded an ex- 
 tensive view. Airsley, the homestead of the 
 Le Roys for generations, was one of those 
 substantial old homes of which our country 
 can boast but a few. A lawn, covered with 
 mammoth locusts, sloped to the water on the 
 north, while on the south a broad avenue 
 wound through a dense grove of oaks and 
 evergreens for fully a quarter of a mile before 
 reaching the highway. Passing through a por- 
 tico, entrance was had to a large square hall, 
 at the end of which folding-doors opened into 
 the library, where Mrs. Le Roy and Alice were 
 anxiously awaiting Edith's return. Book-cases 
 lined the walls, and the huge window was 
 hung with crimson drapery. The warm fire 
 blending with the twilight took from the room 
 the look of cold grandeur, too often seen in 
 houses of the present day. Everything was
 
 8 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 elegant, but at the same time there was an 
 air of comfort everywhere apparent, even to 
 the Newfoundland dog lying before the fire. 
 Alice had thrown herself into an easy-chair ; 
 her mother reclined on a sofa. 
 
 " There is Edith, mamma, laughing as usual." 
 Rollo got up in a lazy way, and met the sub- 
 ject of anxiety as she rushed to her mother. 
 
 " Oh ! mamma, I have had such a funny 
 time. I knew you must have been worried ; 
 but never mind now. I have brought papa 
 and Henry as a peace-offering. I could not 
 help being late, and will tell you all about it 
 at supper. Alice is dying from curiosity, but 
 it must keep, my most serene beauty, for I 
 must first get this dusty habit off, and then for 
 the adventure." 
 
 Catching up her skirt she ran off. Mr. Le 
 Roy, a fine portly gentleman of fifty, with a 
 smile always on his face, shook his head, and, 
 turning to his wife, said : " What a beauty she 
 is, Lena ! Did she not look superb, Henry, as 
 she dashed ahead of us into the avenue ? That 
 habit shows her figure to advantage." 
 
 " Your face, father, spoke your admiration
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 9 
 
 plainer than words, as you lifted her off Madge. 
 Such homage is spoiling her." 
 
 " I cannot help it, if it is. I only hope her 
 future may be such as her beauty and guile- 
 lessness deserve. Where will she find a man 
 to appreciate her? Really, the condition of 
 the country is getting to be such that the 
 future looks dark for every one ; so let us take 
 advantage of the present and go to supper, 
 or Sunshine will be there first, and tell her 
 story to John." 
 
 Hardly were they seated when Edith came 
 in, leaning on the arm of Miss Wilson, her gov- 
 erness, laughing her out of the reproof she was 
 trying to administer. 
 
 " Mamma, I knew you were wild to hear 
 my story, so hear it is. I started out, fully 
 intending to be back by sundown ; so I only 
 went round the meadow road, returning by the 
 beach. I found my saddle- pocket full of cara- 
 mels. Charlie Barclay put them there yester- 
 day, when we were out with the Allen girls. 
 He said girls could not be out half an hour 
 without candy, to keep them from mischief. I 
 would not eat mine because he said that.
 
 IO ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 " Then I bet you ate your share of Tutie's 
 and Helen's," said Henry. 
 
 " There you are again, Henry ; you are 
 always ready to bet something of that sort. 
 You, now, I warrant, smoke Charlie's cigars 
 when yours are out, do you not ? " 
 
 " But your candy was not out, only you 
 wanted to save it to eat all alone. It would 
 taste all the sweeter because Charlie gave it 
 you." 
 
 " Why, my little daughter, what does that 
 blush mean ? Is there any association between 
 candy and Charlie ? " 
 
 "Now, papa, Henry is real mean, and is 
 spoiling all my story. It was not about Char- 
 lie I blushed at all." 
 
 " Nevertheless she manages to get more red 
 all the time," Alice quietly remarked to Miss 
 Wilson. 
 
 " Do be quiet, children, and let us hear this 
 wonderful adventure," said Mrs. Le Roy, re- 
 questing Edith to go on. 
 
 " Well, I found the candy ; so I walked 
 Madge while I ate some, as I could not eat 
 caramels and canter at the same time. It
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. II 
 
 must have become dark very soon ; as it only 
 seemed a few moments until the sun began to 
 disappear behind the bluff. Then I touched 
 Madge up and galloped as fast as I could, 
 when, just as I got over Laurel Hill she stum- 
 bled and went on her knees. While she was 
 down I jumped off, fearing she was hurt. She 
 was up in a moment, however, all right. Know- 
 ing it was my fault for galloping up hill, I 
 thought I would pet her ; so, offering her a 
 piece of candy, I took my handkerchief and 
 was occupied in brushing the dust from her 
 nose, when, to my surprise, I heard a voice, and 
 the next moment a gentleman stood beside me. 
 Having been so interested with Madge, I had 
 not heard the quiet rumble of the barouche 
 which carried the stranger. ' You are evidently 
 not hurt, miss ; but is your horse injured, 
 that you are paying him such delicate atten- 
 tion ? ' 
 
 " I was ever so confused at being found in 
 such a plight, and I hardly know what I said ; 
 only I believe I thanked him and answered, 
 1 Oh, it is nothing. Madge stumbled, and I 
 have been letting her rest a moment.'
 
 12 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 " Then he asked me to get into his carriage 
 and he would drive me home, and the footman 
 could lead Madge. With that I looked di- 
 rectly at him, and I verily believe it was Mr. 
 Gantly of the Manor. Is he home, papa ? " 
 
 " Yes, I heard so to-day ; but what did you 
 say to his offer ? " 
 
 " Now, Henry will laugh at me again, for I 
 mixed myself all up. I said Madge was not I 
 tired, and am certain I blushed, for I had no 
 sooner uttered the words than I saw the mis- 
 take, and remembered having told him of let- 
 ting Madge rest. Then he proposed that I 
 should ride beside his carriage, upon which I 
 said I was going the other way. He proposed 
 finally that I should allow him to aid me to 
 mount, and did it in such a very gallant way 
 that of course I was obliged to let him. He 
 then raised his hat, and remarked as I grasped 
 the reins, ' I see you and your horse understand 
 each other. She is waiting for the word to go, 
 and as I can be of no further assistance, I will 
 bid you good evening and wish you a pleasant 
 ride.' With that I turned Madge and dashed 
 off in the other direction, not daring to follow
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 13 
 
 him. So I went to the foot of the hill again, 
 which accounts for my being so late." 
 
 " There is nothing strange in your story, 
 Edith, except your ungracious manner of re- 
 ceiving Mr. Gantly's kind offers, if it were really 
 he whom you met," said Alice. 
 
 " Had you been caught rubbing your horse's 
 nose with your handkerchief," replied Edith, 
 " I think you would have been quite as much 
 confused as I was." 
 
 " Not quite as much, I hope, my dear. But 
 tell me what Mr. Gantly is like. He has been 
 away ever so long, some six years, I believe. 
 I remember I was quite a little girl when I saw 
 him last. He must look almost as old as papa." 
 
 " Oh, no, he doesn't ; he has not a gray hair." 
 
 " Is that your idea of age, Edith ? I hope 
 you can tell me if he is handsome." 
 
 " Oh, dear! how can I tell ? " 
 
 " Then you have lost the faculty in twenty- 
 four hours," said Henry. " I heard you criticis- 
 ing two of your dear friends very severely to 
 Miss Wilson only yesterday." 
 
 " But, Henry, Mr. Gantly is different from 
 any one I ever saw. He is something one
 
 14 ALL ABOUT EDITH. V 
 
 does not know exactly how to describe. Oh! 
 I have it : he looks like John Halifax." 
 
 " So ho ! when did the little girl meet John? " 
 
 " Please, papa, do not make fun of every- 
 thing I say. Miss Wilson and I have been 
 reading Halifax, and we think him just perfect ; 
 do we not, Miss Wilson ? " 
 
 " I did not express my opinion, Edith." 
 
 " Do, Edith, let some one else talk a little 
 while," said Alice. " Please tell us, papa, about 
 Mr. Gantly. I have often wondered why he trav- 
 eled so much, and never seemed to have any 
 relations. You have known him for years, and 
 so ought to be able to tell us something about 
 him." 
 
 "As to your first question, why, as far as I 
 am able to judge, he finds travel more pleasant 
 than being at home alone." 
 
 " But, father," said Henry, " he is not alone. 
 His lawyer, or whatever he calls him, seems 
 always to be with him." 
 
 "True, my son ; but one tires of the constant 
 companionship of a -single person, unless one 
 is occupied ; and Gantly knows nothing at all 
 about business. Mr. Parish attends to every-
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 15 
 
 thing for him. He was his chum in college, 
 and one of the lawyers in the lawsuit in which 
 he was so long engaged. By the way, that 
 same suit proved the cause of Mr. Gantly's 
 being on unfriendly terms with his family. At 
 his father's death he was abroad, and the will 
 left by his father was in some way made so as 
 to leave in trust the homestead and other prop- 
 erty, which was to be his ultimately ; his uncle 
 being in actual possession. Gantly contested 
 the will, and won, after a number of years of 
 litigation, since which time Parish has had en- 
 tire charge of all his business. What I knew 
 of him as a boy, some years younger than my- 
 self, was that he was always a fine fellow, very 
 generous, and always took the side of the weak 
 and oppressed. His tastes were refined. He 
 played, painted, and was educated a physician ; 
 but what he is like now I am unable to say. I 
 doubt if he would even remember me." 
 
 " Well, my dear, at any rate it is your place 
 to call on him, as he has been away ; " said 
 Mrs. Le Roy. 
 
 " Now, Lena, do please spare me. You 
 know that I am not a calling man."
 
 16 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 " I will relieve you of that, father," said 
 Henry. " I am anxious to shoot in his woods, 
 and will make it an excuse to call, with Edith's 
 permission. Don't pout, miss, it makes your 
 chin such a funny shape, and I will promise not 
 to tell Charlie. By the way, Willie Jerome is 
 coming over to play billiards to-night on his 
 own invitation. I cannot like that fellow ; he 
 will push himself where he is not wanted, and 
 he is very fond of looking at the girls in that 
 fascinating way I do not admire." 
 
 " Use the singular, if you please, Henry. 
 He rarely looks at me ; it is to Edith his atten- 
 tions are paid." 
 
 " Oh, you poor little neglected one, does 
 no one pay her any attention ? " said Henry. 
 '" Well, we will bring the lord of the Manor 
 down for you. I say, mamma, capital idea! 
 we will ask him to the next musical. When 
 will it be, Miss Wilson ? " 
 
 " Next week, I believe, if convenient to your 
 mother." 
 
 " What evening, mamma, quick, nothing like 
 business, even in society matters, Oh, heav- 
 ens ! there's Jerome's horse, sure as fate."
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. I/ 
 
 " Well, Henry, Wednesday will suit me very 
 well." 
 
 "Then Wednesday it shall be. I declare 
 John is bringing that fellow in here." 
 
 The words were hardly spoken when the 
 door opened, and a young man of five-and- 
 twenty, with the most perfect ease, and " at- 
 home " sort of air, came forward. He could 
 see himself reflected in the mirror that ex- 
 tended the length of the beaufet, and a face 
 never more plainly expressed perfect satisfac- 
 tion with one's own appearance than did his. 
 He certainly was handsome, and thoroughly 
 knew how to make himself a friend with ladies. 
 Skilfully concealed egotism was a characteristic 
 of his conversation, together with an easy man- 
 ner of telling the person whom he talked with 
 that he or she was all in the world that he cared 
 for. What more dangerous trait can there be 
 in a man who is thrown among girls just bud- 
 ding into womanhood, when the heart is so 
 susceptible. Bowing to all, he walked to Mrs. 
 Le Roy, remarking, " I hope you will excuse 
 me, dear madam, for following John in ; but the 
 fascinating picture I saw through the window
 
 1 8 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 made the temptation irresistible. I am glad to 
 see you looking so much better this evening." 
 
 " Thank you, I am feeling right well. I fear 
 I must offer you rather cold coffee. We have 
 lingered so long, it has been neglected." 
 
 " Not any, thank you. I have just finished 
 dinner." 
 
 " But your ride may have tired you." 
 
 " In which case all the stimulus I require is 
 your charming society." 
 
 " How jolly this is, girls," said Henry. 
 " Will is going to devote himself exclusively 
 to mamma, so we will go and play billiards." 
 
 Mr. Le Roy, seeing his wife was rather trou- 
 bled by Henry's sarcastic remark, requested her 
 to go with him into the library, and examine 
 some new books he had just purchased. " You 
 young people amuse yourselves with billiards 
 for awhile ; then we will have some music." 
 
 "I'm agreeable ; come along, Edith," an- 
 swered Henry. " Look at mother and Will, 
 Edith. There they are at church work again. 
 I verily believe that fellow is a hypocrite. I do 
 not hear the best accounts of him in town." 
 
 " Now, Henry, how very unkind. Because
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 19 
 
 he is a favorite and dresses a little more than 
 is necessary in the country, you are all down 
 on him. But I'll stick up for him ; for he is the 
 only one that knows enough to pay a little girl, 
 as you call me, any attention." 
 
 " Quite right, Edith ; he does pay you atten- 
 tion, and more than I like ; and what's more, 
 you must not accept it any longer. You will 
 soon be in society, and then it will be a great 
 disadvantage to have him so intimate with you. 
 Charlie Barclay, the last day we were sailing, 
 was ever so much provoked at him. He told 
 me afterward he never was so angry in his life." 
 
 " Oh ! bother ; Charlie is so high tempered ; 
 he gets angry at almost anything." 
 
 " I beg pardon, Edith ; I consider it some- 
 thing your allowing gentlemen to pull your 
 hair; and then again, what was the necessity 
 of his holding your hand in his, to show you 
 when to throw your line ? " 
 
 " Hush ! here they come. I declare Alice 
 has enlisted him into her missionary society ; 
 she has just put down his name." 
 
 Henry walked up to Alice, and taking her 
 hand, congratulated her on her success.
 
 2O ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 " I declare, Will, this is turning over a new 
 leaf. Was Alice so fascinating, or do you 
 consider it a speculation ? " 
 
 " You hit it right that time. There is no 
 other dissipation in the country at this season 
 of the year, except going to church, getting up 
 church frolics, and flirting on the way home." 
 
 " Mr. Jerome, I must protest against the ex- 
 pression of such views. Could you visit among 
 the poor of our parish, you would soon see the 
 necessity of church work, and workers also. It 
 is all very easy to stand in your drawing-rooms 
 and say it is the fashion ; but the rector and 
 visiting members see the distress." 
 
 " But are these people worthy, Miss Le 
 Roy? Have they not squandered their money 
 to bring on their destitution ? " 
 
 " We do not take care of such. Dr. Cutler 
 knows each family, the worthy and unworthy." 
 
 The mills have been closed for some months, 
 with the exception of a few days, and how can 
 they live without money ? " 
 
 "Well, I will go to the next meeting and 
 give my mite. But our game has been forgot- 
 ten."
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 21 
 
 In a few moments they were all laughing 
 merrily over Edith's strokes. They were as 
 wild as if she had never handled a cue, and 
 Henry declared he would not play any longer 
 unless she did better. 
 
 " I was out so late, I am tired, and you all 
 annoy me so. I am as nervous as I can be," 
 answered Edith fretfully. 
 
 " Allow me to steady your cue for you," said 
 Mr. Jerome, coming over to Edith, and almost 
 putting his arm around her. Edith looked up, 
 and catching her brother's eye, dropped her 
 cue, declaring she was too tired to play any 
 longer. 
 
 Alice, seeing that Henry was displeased, 
 came to the rescue, and begged Mr. Jerome 
 to excuse them, explaining that Edith's horse 
 had not behaved well during her afternoon 
 ride, so mamma thought she had better retire 
 early. 
 
 " By all means ; " replied Mr. Jerome. " Hen- 
 ry and I can amuse ourselves very well with 
 a cigar. But, Miss Edith, you must let me 
 give Madge some lessons on good behavior 
 again. She seemed a little afraid of my spur."
 
 22 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 " Thank you ; but I can manage her. It 
 was all my own fault. Good evening, and be 
 sure to come to the musical, Wednesday." And 
 with these words Edith left the room.
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 23 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 " The beginning of an acquaintance, whether with persons 
 or things, is to get a definite outline of our ignorance." 
 
 BOUT sunset on the following day, 
 Alice, Edith, and Miss Wilson, return- 
 ing from a walk, met Henry at the 
 lodge gate with his dog. 
 
 " Now, Alice, we will see what Henry thinks 
 of my hero," said Edith, taking her brother's 
 arm ; " is he not nice, Henry ? " 
 
 " Well, I cannot say ; he seems very gentle- 
 manly, but rather sad and quiet." 
 
 " Did you keep your promise, and not tell 
 him it was your sister who treated him so 
 rudely ? " 
 
 " I did." 
 
 " Well, I hope he will not recognize me ; but 
 will he come on Wednesday ? " 
 
 " He cannot promise. He is obliged to go 
 to the city to-morrow, and may not return
 
 24 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 until late Wednesday evening ; but if nothing 
 happens to prevent, will be most happy to be 
 at your musical." 
 
 " Now I hope you are satisfied, Edith, I want 
 Henry to tell me what the house is like, and 
 what his tastes seem to be." 
 
 " As for the outside, you've both seen that 
 often. Isn't it a fine piece of architecture ! It 
 is simply magnificent. I do not know why, 
 but it seems to be different each time I see it, 
 and Mr. Gantly says it is so with him ; every 
 day it appears more beautiful. The place 
 wants trimming up, as he confesses, and also 
 some one to make it lively. I wish you could 
 see the inside. The hall, as you enter is grand. 
 Instead of ending in a library, like ours, it ex- 
 tends through the house, and the massive wind- 
 ing stairs are off one side. The room I was 
 ushered into was a library, very large, with 
 quantities of books and pictures. On one side 
 the fire-place took up almost all the space. A 
 wood fire was smouldering on the heavy brass 
 andirons, while a setter dog was asleep on the 
 rug. At the other end of the room was an or- 
 gan, at which Mr. Gantly was seated. I could
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 2$ 
 
 only catch a few notes as I came in, but they 
 were enough to make me believe him a master 
 of the instrument." 
 
 " How splendid, Miss Wilson ; we can get 
 him to play for us in church some time. It 
 would be such a relief to you." 
 
 " I declare, Alice, you appropriate every- 
 body and everything for that church." 
 
 " Well, Henry, is not that a part of my 
 duty?" 
 
 " Perhaps so ; but let the man get fairly at 
 home first." 
 
 " I certainly do not intend to go after him, 
 but if I get an opportunity I shall try and ac- 
 complish my end. Is there anything wrong 
 in that, Miss Wilson? " 
 
 " Certainly not." 
 
 " Oh ! while I think of it, Henry, I have 
 some news you will rejoice over. I wrote for 
 Maggie Allen to come and spend a few weeks 
 with us, and she accepts, and will be here 
 Tuesday." 
 
 " I am very glad to hear it. We must try 
 to get up something for her ; but I shall have 
 to go to the city almost every day for some 
 
 2
 
 26 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 time. Father is much driven with business, 
 and seems to like to have me go with him. 
 We can have jolly evenings, however, and I 
 will try and stay home Saturdays, so that Edith 
 may be with us. She must lose no more les- 
 sons, Miss Wilson." 
 
 " Oh, lessons ! lessons ! those eternal les- 
 sons ! I am heartily tired of them, and those 
 musicals are the very dread of my life. I 
 am not allowed to dance and have a good 
 time ; and then to be called in, just to show 
 off one's playing, is simply abominable. I 
 am sure I shall break down Wednesday. The 
 very idea of Mr. Gantly being there will be 
 enough to frighten one to death." 
 
 "Well, that is strange, Edith. I thought 
 you considered him so perfect." 
 
 "I'm sure I didn't say so ; how am I to 
 know ? " 
 
 "You compared him to Halifax, and you 
 said you considered him perfect." 
 
 " Then that is sufficient reason to be afraid 
 of him. He seems to see right through one, 
 and I'm sure he knows all about every thing." 
 
 " I must differ with you, Edith. If he knew
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 27 
 
 every thing, he would never trust all his busi- 
 ness to Mr. Parish, or any other man. From 
 what I can judge of him, he is a thoroughly 
 educated gentleman ; but, from a remark he 
 made, seems to place too much confidence in 
 the honesty of men." 
 
 " Why, I think that's splendid," Edith ex- 
 claimed. " It is horrible to suspect every one." 
 
 " The world is very selfish, Edith. Men 
 seem to forget the bonds, either of friendship 
 or honesty when money has any thing to do 
 with their transactions."
 
 28 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 ' Notitian primosque gradus vicinia fecit." 
 
 OVID. 
 
 ' The blush, perhaps, was maiden's shame, 
 
 As such it well may pass : 
 Though its glow hath raised a fiercer flame 
 In the breast of him, alas." 
 
 POE. 
 
 EDNESDAY proved a lovely day. 
 Henry stayed at home in honor of 
 Miss Allen's arrival. She was like a 
 member of the family. Her parents had owned 
 the adjoining, park, but, in consequence of the 
 ill-health of her mother, had been obliged to 
 give it up and remove to the city. It had 
 been a source of great regret to Maggie, as, 
 being an only child, she had spent the greater 
 part of her life with the Le Roys, and they 
 all loved her as one of themselves. She formed 
 a perfect contrast with Alice and Edith, their 
 style of beauty being that which entrances, 
 with black hair and eyes, while hers was be-
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 29 
 
 wildering, with the glamour of hair almost 
 flaxen, and eyes of blue. No more accurate 
 description could be given of her than Tenny- 
 son's lines, 
 
 " A daughter of the gods, 
 Divinely tall, and most divinely fair." 
 
 The day was occupied with visiting the old 
 familiar spots, a short sail, decorating the draw- 
 ing-room with flowers, and a rehearsal of the 
 music for the evening. Edith was not at all 
 at ease. She knew the Gordon girls would 
 play better than she possibly could ; they had 
 so much more confidence. After some per- 
 suasion Maggie had consented to take a part 
 in a trio they had frequently played together. 
 Their friends had all heard it with the excep- 
 tion of Mr. Gantly ; but Miss Wilson thought 
 it would be good to start with, as it would 
 give Edith confidence. Every thing was ready. 
 The drawing-room was lighted ; Miss Wilson 
 was running over some accompaniments ; Alice, 
 Maggie, and Henry were having an animated 
 discussion over the last novel, when Mrs. Le 
 Roy made her appearance with Edith, who
 
 3O ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 looked more like a subject for a sick room 
 than a musical. 
 
 " Miss Wilson, will you take Edith into the 
 library and brighten her up, while I receive the 
 guests? I am afraid she is going to have a 
 nervous headache." 
 
 " Why, Edith/' said Miss Wilson, " what is 
 the matter? You are as white as a sheet. 
 Have you seen a ghost, or do you expect to 
 see one ? " 
 
 "Just in time, Charlie," exclaimed Henry, 
 going to welcome a young man who had en- 
 tered the room, " Edith wants brushing up ; you 
 go and tease her." 
 
 " Henry, do stop worrying your sister. Char- 
 lie, if you will, you may go with Miss Wilson 
 and Edith into the library, for I know that your 
 fun will bring the roses back to her cheeks if 
 any thing will. There ! I hear a carriage. Re- 
 member, Miss Wilson, music is to begin 
 promptly at eight." 
 
 Charlie followed Miss Wilson and Edith into 
 the library. Young Barclay was one of those 
 right jolly, unselfish, and open-hearted young 
 fellows one sometimes meets with. He was
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 31 
 
 tall, but not robust, with jet black hair and 
 mustache. He was an only son. His mother 
 had been an invalid for years, and Charlie had 
 been brought up to pay her every attention, 
 which he did in a most considerate manner. 
 In fact, he seemed to manifest the same bear- 
 ing toward all ladies ; so that, by common con- 
 sent, a delicate lady, or one requiring much 
 attention, always fell to his care. Leading 
 Edith to a comfortable seat by the fire, he 
 handed Miss Wilson a chair ; and, in the most 
 natural manner, told her all the city news, draw- 
 ing her attention from Edith, until she was 
 composed. Then he talked about a plan he 
 had for going to Europe and completing his 
 course in medicine. His mother, he said, op- 
 posed this, as she wished him to remain with 
 her. So he endeavored not to think of it seri- 
 ously. Edith was fond of new plans, and 
 Charlie always found in her a willing listener. 
 They were soon earnestly talking about the 
 possibility of inducing Mrs. Barclay to let him 
 go for three months. Then he could extend 
 his leave of absence, should his mother get no 
 worse.
 
 32 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 " Oh, do get her consent to this plan, Char- 
 lie. I know she will agree to it." 
 
 " But you seem more anxious than usual to 
 have me go, Edith. You have always said 
 that you would miss your tease." 
 
 " So I shall miss you ever so much, you are 
 always so kind and thoughtful to the little 
 girl ; and I hate so to be taken to task because 
 gentlemen talk to me. Henry is over-par- 
 ticular." 
 
 "He is perfectly right, Edith. You are not 
 really the little girl you call yourself. I grant 
 that you are young ; but because your friends 
 like myself, who have played in the same 
 nursery, call you Edith, it does not follow that 
 others should have the same privilege." 
 
 " I cannot see why." 
 
 " No ; but you will after a few years, and 
 then will thank Henry. But here comes your 
 father with a stranger. I will finish this con- 
 versation before I go to Europe." 
 
 " I dare say you will," said Edith, mischiev- 
 ously, " for I doubt if you ever go." 
 
 " I do not boast of an extensive library," 
 remarked Mr. Le Roy, as he led the way into
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 33 
 
 the room, " yet I take it as a comfortable one, 
 both for the mind and body." 
 
 " I should judge so," said Mr. Gantly, slight- 
 ly changing color, and bowing to Edith. " Will 
 you honor me with an introduction to this 
 young lady ? then I will apologize for a second 
 time disturbing her tete-a-tete. 
 
 " Why, this is my daughter Edith. Edith, 
 this is Mr. Gantly of the manor. Mr. Barclay, 
 Mr. Gantly ; but why these blushes ? I declare, 
 Gantly, you are as red as Edith." 
 
 " Really, papa, I am afraid I have some 
 cause ; but but you know I did not know you 
 when we met the other day, Mr. Gantly." 
 
 " And you know I did not know you, Miss Le 
 Roy. I am really astonished to find that the 
 young lady who treated my overtures of assist- 
 ance so cavalierly, and my friend's daughter, 
 are one and the same person. Had I suspect- 
 ed for a moment that you were Miss Le Roy, 
 you would not have been rid of me so easily 
 as you were, I assure you. But I suppose you 
 wanted to wipe your horse's nose with that cam- 
 bric handkerchief, more than you wanted the 
 companionship of an old gentleman like myself."
 
 34 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Gantly, you are more than severe. 
 Madge's nose was dusty, and she does not look 
 nicely with a dusty nose. And then you are 
 not old. Suppose you were, I like old gentle- 
 men." 
 
 " I suppose that is a hint for me to leave," 
 said Charlie, trying to look annoyed. 
 
 " By no means, Mr. Barclay. But I suggest 
 that we all get dusty noses, and see if we will 
 receive the same attention as Madge. I can 
 assure you, Mr. Le Roy, it was a sight well 
 worth seeing." 
 
 " Now that is too bad, Mr. Gantly. I shall 
 never forgive you. Come, Charlie, they want 
 me in the drawing-room," so taking Barclay's 
 arm, they left the two elder gentlemen to their 
 books. 
 
 Edith had forgotten herself so completely 
 that she played with more that usual self-pos- 
 session, and succeeded accordingly. After a 
 time Henry, Willie Jerome, and two of their 
 college friends proposed some glees ; but as 
 the books had been loaned, Edith was without 
 notes. After making a number of attempts 
 to improvise, she gave up in despair, and was
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 35 
 
 turning from the piano to apologize, when she 
 saw Mr. Gantly, and remembering what Henry 
 had said about his playing, she asked him in 
 the most winning manner if he would not do 
 something for her. 
 
 " But I thought I was your enemy, and was 
 never to be forgiven." 
 
 " Oh, I forgot about that. But if you will 
 grant me this favor, I will both forget and for- 
 give." 
 
 " Tell me what I am to do." 
 
 " Only make up some accompaniments for 
 the glees. I can get along when I have notes, 
 but cannot draw on my imagination." 
 
 " How do you know that I am able? " 
 
 " Henry told me that you played the or- 
 gan. So, of course, you can do such an easy 
 thing as this." 
 
 " Well, Miss Flatterer, we will make a bar- 
 gain. I will play the accompaniments if you 
 will sing a song for me. I lost the last one. 
 Your father and I were so deeply interested in 
 talking over old days that I only caught a few 
 notes." 
 
 " I suppose I must ; but if you only knew
 
 36 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 how hard it is for me to sing before strangers 
 you would not ask it." 
 
 " Undoubtedly I would. For any one to sing 
 well must overcome that timidity, and the only 
 way to do is to sing before strangers constantly." 
 
 So, taking his place at the piano, Mr. Gantly 
 struck a few chords ; then asking Henry what 
 they wanted first, with the most perfect ease 
 he played one after another of the college 
 songs. Every one was delighted, as it took 
 away all the stiffness of the evening. Edith 
 sang very well, and although her voice trem- 
 bled somewhat, yet it did not detract from its 
 sweetness. Mr. Gantly seemed much pleased, 
 but rather sad. He told Edith it brought old 
 scenes so vividly before him. His favorite sis- 
 ter sang well, and he had always . accompanied 
 her, and she in return played his accompani- 
 ments for the cornet ; but now he had to play 
 alone. 
 
 " Why no, you need not," said Edith ; " bring 
 your instrument down here, and Miss Wilson 
 will play with you. It would be a splendid ar- 
 rangement ; I am so fond of the cornet. Do 
 bring it to-morrow evening, won't you ? "
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 37 
 
 Meanwhile Maggie had been having a des- 
 perate flirtation with Jerome. In consequence 
 of this, Henry had no evening lecture for Edith. 
 He manifested considerable annoyance, but 
 Maggie was the guilty party this time. It was 
 generally understood that he was as good as 
 engaged to Maggie ; so it may be surmised he 
 had sufficient cause for his uneasiness. After 
 the guests had departed, all seemed tired and 
 occupied with their own thoughts, and in this 
 mood they parted for the night.
 
 38 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 " Where is the man who has the power and skill 
 To stem the torrent of a woman's will ? 
 For if she will, she will, you may depend on't ; 
 And if she won't, she won't, so there's an end on't." 
 
 LINES FROM A PILLAR. 
 
 UT, Henry, we were to have had a 
 horseback ride this morning. Charlie 
 and Mr. Jerome are coming over ; so 
 if you don't go, we shall have an odd number." 
 
 " Very true, Alice ; but I must go to the city 
 nevertheless. Father wants me." 
 
 " What shall we do, Maggie ? Henry says 
 he must go to town this morning, and that will 
 break up our riding party, for an odd number 
 is always awkward." 
 
 " Alice, you are a poor manager. I know 
 of a remedy. Send Matthew with a note up to 
 Mr. Gantly, for he rides splendidly. I have 
 seen him on the avenue for two weeks past, 
 and have often wondered who he was."
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 39 
 
 Matthew was accordingly dispatched with a 
 note, and in due time returned with an accept- 
 ance of the invitation. 
 
 About eleven o'clock the party started off 
 in great glee. Mr. Gantly, with Alice, took 
 the lead, Maggie and Mr. Jerome came next ; 
 then Charlie with Edith. They took a long 
 ride, and on their return Mr. Gantly suggested 
 their going through his place, and that he 
 would show the party over the house. All 
 were delighted with the plan, and turned their 
 horses in that direction. The approach from 
 the village was one of the finest in the coun- 
 try. For a quarter of a mile it wound up 
 a hill, through a thick wood of fine old oak 
 and forest trees, and then entered abruptly on 
 an extensive plateau, overlooking for miles 
 the surrounding country and bay. The view 
 could not be surpassed, and exclamations of de- 
 light came from all the members of the party. 
 After dismounting, they visited the grapery 
 and hot-houses, and lastly the house. Alice 
 was delighted with the organ. Edith, of course, 
 wanted to hear the cornet, and upon Mr. 
 Gantly saying that it was in his " bedlam," all
 
 40 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 begged him to show them the place ; for a real 
 bachelor's bedlam was, as they agreed, a thing 
 of wondrous rarity, not at all to be lightly 
 treated as a thing of mere curiosity. Accord- 
 ingly he led the way to the top of the house, 
 and ushered them into a large room, situated in 
 one of the wings, and having windows on three 
 sides. Bedlam hardly described the room. No 
 less than half a dozen musical instruments were 
 scattered around ; a half-finished oil painting 
 rested on one easel and a crayon of a dog on 
 another ; the principal table was covered with 
 carvings and sawings ; on the walls were designs 
 for brackets, book-cases, chairs, and all kinds 
 of fancy articles, while a strongly made table, 
 holding a pile of clay and a number of partly 
 finished models of heads, hands, and other ob- 
 jects, conspicuous among which was the model 
 of a cat, occupied the further corner. In short 
 it seemed " chaos is come again." The whole 
 party were delighted with the odd, mixed-up 
 appearance of things ; and their host then and 
 there received orders for carving, painting, and 
 modeling sufficient in number and require- 
 ments to astound any professional artisan. He
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 41 
 
 laughingly took them, but said he feared they 
 would come short of accomplishment, for he 
 rarely finished any thing he began, as he was 
 liable to tire of it, having to labor under the 
 so unsatisfactory circumstance of never hav- 
 ing the work criticized. 
 
 " Oh ! if that is all, we will do that much," 
 said Maggie. " Now I want you to model my 
 hand, Mr. Gantly ; and you will do it for me, 
 won't you ? " 
 
 " I don't think you would like to come to 
 my dusty room during the process. You see 
 I never allow a servant to enter the door, 
 much to the housekeeper's grief. Every time 
 I go from the house she begs me to leave 
 the key, and let her have it cleaned, promising 
 faithfully to have every thing left in its proper 
 place ; but I am incorrigible, and prefer the 
 dust to remain ; it suits my feelings exactly." 
 
 " But should you give up to such feelings ? " 
 said Maggie, musingly ; " you may become 
 moody from being much alone, I fear, Mr. 
 Gantly." 
 
 " Yes, I am alone, truly," replied he, mus- 
 ingly.
 
 42 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 "But whose fault is it, pray? Just think 
 for a moment how charming this house would 
 be, if fillecl with guests." 
 
 " But that is impracticable, for there is no 
 lady here." 
 
 " And why ? Is not that in itself an initial 
 error ? " 
 
 " I understand your inference, Miss Allen. 
 However, who knows but that a life of not 
 entire uniformity may have bent the dispo- 
 sition from any desire of such a spirited 
 change ? " 
 
 A blast from the other side of the room 
 announced the discovery of the cornet. Je- 
 rome had found it, and forthwith requested 
 its owner to favor his audience with a solo. 
 
 " Oh ! Edith, look here ! " cried Charlie, as 
 he pulled a roll of brilliantly-colored designs 
 from under an old trunk. " Church decora- 
 tions, as I live! The very things you and 
 Alice want." 
 
 " I am going to be bold, Mr. Gantly," said 
 Alice, "and ask you to lend me these draw- 
 ings to copy." 
 
 " Pray accept them, Miss Le Roy, and any
 
 ~"ALL ABOUT EDITH. 43 
 
 >s. * V^ 
 
 others you may see that please you. No ! 
 no ! no thanks ; the gift costs me nothing ; 
 the sketches are merely some I made for 
 amusement while abroad. Did you see this 
 sepia, Miss Edith? It is by Darley. I have 
 many more of his in the library, some rather 
 amusing ones. He used to spend a consider- 
 able portion of his time here, and I always 
 made it a rule to collect his scraps." 
 
 When half-way down stairs, Maggie de- 
 clared that she must go back and have a final 
 look at the sketch ; she wanted to compare 
 its merits, she said, with the other ones in the 
 library. She must have examined it very 
 thoroughly, for it was fully fifteen minutes 
 before she and Gantly joined the rest of the 
 party below. 
 
 "Mr. Gantly, you have been so indulgent 
 to all our whims this morning, I know you 
 will not refuse this last one," said Edith, as 
 they started en masse for their horses. " I 
 want you to ride Madge, and let me ride your 
 horse home ; he is so full of life, and I can see 
 he has a more easy gait than Madge." 
 
 Mr. Gantly shook his head, saying, " Spite
 
 44 ALL ABOUT EDITH. ' 
 
 has never been ridden by a lady ; and, as 
 Michael tells me, is much afraid of the blanket 
 when he has occasion to put it on him ; so I 
 am very much afraid your skirts might cause 
 some trouble." 
 
 Edith took his arm, and looking up at him 
 beseechingly, said, " Dear Mr. Gantly, do not 
 refuse the first favor I ever asked of you. I 
 promise to keep close to your side ; you can- 
 not refuse me." 
 
 "As you wish, then, Miss Edith; but you 
 must exercise extraordinary care." 
 
 The saddles were soon changed, and Mr. 
 Gantly, with an anxious contraction of his 
 brow, assisted Edith to mount, cautioning 
 Michael to hold the curb until he was ready 
 to start, at the same time advising Charlie to 
 ride a little ahead with the others, so Spite 
 would be less anxious to dash forward. 
 
 "Now, Edith, ready! Keep your curb tight. 
 Do not let him know you are afraid of him. 
 Let go, Mike." 
 
 Away they dashed. " Oh ! this is glorious, 
 Mr. Gantly ; please turn to the left and go to 
 the top of the hill. The others have taken
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 45 
 
 the valley road, and we can catch up to them 
 soon enough." 
 
 " Careful, Edith ! Don't get frightened ; your 
 hand is trembling ; there is a sharp turn at the 
 gate." 
 
 Mr. Gantly kept close to Edith's side, and 
 they halted at the top of the hill. 
 
 " Now we must join the others. Keep him 
 well in hand, Edith ; he has his ears a little 
 back, and I am afraid of the flapping of your 
 skirt." 
 
 " He is perfectly splendid," Edith exclaimed. 
 " I never had a more delightful ride ; but his 
 mouth seems a little hard." 
 
 " Down the hill they galloped, but on reach- 
 ing the gate Spite put her head between her 
 forefeet, and making a plunge through the gate 
 started on a full run up the avenue. Edith, to- 
 tally unprepared for this vicious movement, 
 lost control of her reins, and the horse went 
 madly on past the -house, and made for the 
 stables. Michael, hearing the approaching 
 clatter, rushed down the road to stop him. 
 Spite, thus cut off from his usual route, made a 
 plunge through the trees, striking Edith against
 
 46 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 a branch, which stunned and threw her off. 
 The next moment she was in Mr. Gantly's 
 arms. 
 
 " Mrs. Le Roy, I feel greatly guilty for this ; 
 but your daughter was so anxious to ride the 
 horse I could not refuse her." 
 
 Edith was lying on the sofa in Mr. Gantly's 
 library, the doctor applying restoratives, and 
 Mrs. Le Roy, with Charlie and Mr. Gantly, 
 anxiously watching the result. 
 
 " I apprehend no danger, Mrs. Le Roy," said 
 the doctor encouragingly ; " she shows signs of 
 consciousness already, and unless there is some 
 bone broken will soon be herself." 
 
 " Can we take her home as soon as she 
 wakes from this stupor, doctor ? I deeply ap- 
 preciate your hospitable offer, Mr. Gantly, but 
 you can understand how much I would prefer 
 her being at home." 
 
 Edith was considered convalescent, and had 
 for the first time been allowed to come down to 
 the library. Her injury had not been at all 
 severe, but a few days' quiet had been consid-
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 47 
 
 ered wise. Hitting the branch had fortunately 
 broken the force of her fall, and possibly saved 
 her from more serious injury. 
 
 " Henry, you are just as mean as you can 
 be ! Mamma, did I say any thing while I was 
 unconscious ? " 
 
 " Mamma, I protest. You are a witness on 
 the other side, and the judge, Charles, has not 
 yet called you. Father, did she not say, ' Oh ! 
 don't kiss me, Mr. Scott ? ' " 
 
 " Henry, how can you say such silly things ? 
 You know I hate Mr. Scott. Papa, dear, do 
 make him be reasonable." 
 
 " It may be, Edith, that I didn't get the 
 name straight. Tell me who it was ; it may 
 have been some one else you wanted to kiss." 
 
 " There's one thing certain, it wasn't you, 
 and never will be, if you continue talking that 
 sort of stuff." 
 
 " So ! ho ! my lady, you're improving, I take 
 it improving rapidly. Ah! here we have it, 
 just in time. I have the right man now, I 
 think. Glad to see you, Mr. Gantly. I want a 
 witness to prove that Miss Edith Le Roy, while 
 in a state of unconsciousness, caused by will-
 
 48 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 fully riding a horse, which same animal she 
 was advised not to mount, did, during the 
 above state, confer certain instructions upon 
 some certain gentleman or gentlemen, regard- 
 ing the kissing or the non - kissing of her 
 worthy self." 
 
 " I am too happy to be a witness to Miss 
 Edith's recovery to appear against her. This is 
 the first moment my conscience has not been 
 on the rack since I carried you into my house. 
 Edith, please accept my sincerest congratula- 
 tions."
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 49 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 " But oh ! what art can teach, 
 What human voice can reach 
 The sacred organ's praise ? 
 Notes inspiring holy love, 
 Notes that wing their heavenly ways 
 To mend the choirs above." 
 
 R. JEROME, I claim you as my es- 
 cort this evening," said Alice. " I en- 
 listed you into our society, so it is 
 proper I should introduce you to the supe- 
 riors." 
 
 " I shall be most happy, Miss Alice. You 
 anticipate my wishes." 
 
 Alice, glancing at Charlie, could not see his 
 look of gratitude, as he took Edith's basket 
 of worsted, and proposed that they should 
 walk ahead of the party, so as to have a mo- 
 ment or two with Dr. Cutler before the crowd 
 came. The doctor was such a favorite with 
 the young people, as to make it quite a strife 
 3
 
 50 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 among them, who should claim the larger share 
 of his attention. 
 
 " I am glad you thought of it, Charlie ; I 
 have some news to tell Dr. Cutler, so we will 
 hurry on." 
 
 Upon the arrival of Mr. Gantly, Dr. Cutler 
 welcomed him heartily : 
 
 " I hope you are to remain long enough for 
 us to have the benefit of your society, Mr. 
 Gantly. I have only met you twice since I 
 have been rector here. I must really censure 
 you for leaving such a place as your's deserted, 
 as it is. It may be well enough to keep it paint- 
 ed and in order, but it should be occupied also. 
 It takes just so many members from our church, 
 and we need every one we can get." 
 
 " I have been thinking seriously, doctor, of 
 remaining for some time," answered Mr. Gant- 
 ly ; " and have all but made up my mind to ask 
 an old aunt to make my house her home for 
 the winter." 
 
 " Good ! but why an old aunt ? I should 
 suggest a wife as more suitable for you. ' It is 
 not good that man should be alone,' " replied 
 the doctor, smiling.
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 51 
 
 " True, true ; but I am getting old, and am 
 very quiet in my tastes." 
 
 " Then arouse yourself. It is never too late 
 to mend. Come now, we will go and make 
 ourselves agreeable to the ladies ; that is the 
 first step toward reform. There is Miss Wil- 
 son waiting for some one to hold worsted for 
 her. Offer your services. Miss Alice, I want 
 to tell you how Johnnie Shaw's broken arm is 
 getting on. He inquired for you to-day." 
 
 " I feel quite guilty for not having gone to 
 see him to-day, doctor ; but we took such a 
 long ride this morning that I knew if I went 
 out again I should be unable to come this even- 
 ing. Excuse me one moment, doctor, till I 
 remind Miss Wilson to get some hints from 
 Mr. Gantly about organ playing, as I see he is 
 talking to her. Oh ! Mr. Gantly, won't you 
 kindly explain the use of some of the organ 
 stops." 
 
 " From what I have heard, Miss Alice, I 
 should judge Miss Wilson more of a master of 
 the instrument than I am." 
 
 " But you have had instruction in the use of 
 the instrument, and I only took it up from my
 
 52 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 knowledge of the piano, because the church 
 was in such distress for an organist," responded 
 Miss Wilson. " Then you know it is hard to 
 play and lead the children at the same time. 
 If you would play for us, we could have so 
 much better music, for then I could do more 
 justice to the singing." 
 
 " Really I could not play to suit you, Miss 
 Wilson. Then there's another difficulty : I 
 rarely go to church." 
 
 " But if you remain here you will go occa- 
 sionally. Will you not go into the church now, 
 and try the organ. We are very proud of it. 
 It was purchased with the proceeds of the fair 
 we held last year, so every one has an interest 
 in it. But I wish it might be played properly. 
 As for me, I understand nothing whatever 
 about the pedal-base." 
 
 " If that is all, I will show you what I know 
 with pleasure, Miss Wilson ; but how do we 
 get into the church ? " 
 
 "Through this side-door, which connects 
 with the vestry. Allow me to lead the way, 
 Mr. Gantly. I will ask one of the choir boys 
 to blow the organ until old John comes."
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 53 
 
 Mr. Gantly was much pleased with the in- 
 strument. He improvised for a short time, then 
 played a number of selections from Mozart, 
 which soon brought everybody, including Dr. 
 Cutler, from the chapel. The player seemed 
 perfectly unconscious of their presence, until, 
 having occasion to fix one of the stops, Edith 
 asked him if he would play Chopin's funeral 
 march. Turning to reply, he saw the audience, 
 and seemed quite embarrassed. Alice and 
 Maggie were very profuse with thanks and 
 compliments, and urged him. to play longer. 
 The organ was at one side of the chancel, with 
 choristers' benches facing the latter. The ladies 
 had taken possession of these, and the choris- 
 ters were waiting in the pews for the rehearsal. 
 After Mr. Gantly had finished, Dr. Cutler came 
 forward and said he had a request to make. 
 
 " Certainly, doctor ; what can I play for 
 you ? " 
 
 " The hymns for the rehearsal. They are 
 new, and Miss Wilson can lead so much better 
 if she is relieved of the playing." 
 
 " Now, doctor, I begin to think there is a 
 preconcerted plan to make me organist."
 
 54 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 "By no means, my dear friend. I never 
 dreamed of such a thing. Nevertheless, I will 
 start the plan now, and earnestly hope you will 
 favor us with your valuable services." 
 
 " I cannot make rash promises, but will en- 
 deavor to be agreeable. What is the first on 
 the programme, Miss Wilson ? " 
 
 The rehearsal lasted an hour, and never did 
 the children do such justice to their leaders. 
 Edith had been so interested with the music 
 and her duties, mainly the former, that Jerome 
 had devoted himself exclusively to Maggie, but 
 she did not seem to court his society as hereto- 
 fore. Her eyes wandered continually in the 
 direction of Mr. Gantly. That individual, how- 
 ever, passed the remainder of the evening ex- 
 plaining the pedal-base to Miss Wilson and 
 Edith. Upon arriving at the Le Roys, Mr. 
 Gantly's carriage was found in waiting, and 
 he having offered to leave the gentlemen at 
 their respective homes, the party broke up after 
 planning a fishing excursion for Saturday.
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 55 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 " To say why girls act so or so, 
 Or don't, 'ould be presuming." 
 
 LOWELL. 
 
 H! it's too lovely for any thing," said 
 Edith; "let's go to Bleak Island and 
 have a clam bake, and fish, and make 
 a regular day of it. I am just in the humor for 
 something of that sort, Can we go, Henry ? " 
 " Certainly, if it is agreeable to all." 
 " Splendid! Send over for ' Scotty ' (I beg 
 his pardon, Henry), Mr. Scott, to go with us. 
 We will have such fun ! He has been perfectly 
 devoted to me lately, and I will get him to sing, 
 ' Ever of thee I'm fondly dreaming,' and we will 
 sing in chorus at the end, ' Mary had a little 
 lamb.' " 
 
 " For shame, Edith. If it is to ridicule that 
 fellow, I shall not ask him, and had you a par- 
 ticle of consideration for our nerves, you would
 
 56 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 never ask him to sing. He has no music in 
 his soul, and his voice reminds one of Milton's 
 infernal gates, ' grating harsh thunder.' His 
 element is certainly not music ; but I under- 
 stand he is literary, in fact a poet." 
 
 " Oh ! what a joke," laughed Edith ; " you 
 remember Lessing's sarcasm : 
 
 " ' Tompkins forsakes his last and awl 
 
 For literary squabbles ; 
 Styles himself poet ; but his trade 
 Remains the same, he cobbles.' " 
 
 " Edith, you are actually incorrigible." 
 " Not quite ; but I don't want to be de trop. 
 You and Charlie are always busy with the 
 boat ; Jerome will be devoted to Maggie, if 
 you are out of the way, and Alice must talk 
 sense to Mr. Gantly. So unless you want 
 me to be assistant sailing-master, get me some 
 one to tease. Here comes John. John, go 
 down to Mr. Scott's and give him this card. 
 See, Henry, I have written it while you have 
 been considering the matter." 
 
 So all necessary arrangements were made, 
 and an hour later they were on their way to 
 the beach.
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 57 
 
 " Mr. Scott," said Edith, handing him a 
 lunch - basket, waterproof, bundle of shawls, 
 sun - umbrella, and fishing-rod ; " if you will 
 kindly take these things down to the boat, I 
 will run back to the house and get another 
 vail." 
 
 " Certainly, Miss Edith, with pleasure." It 
 was plainly evident from Edith's manner, as 
 she watched him staggering under his load, 
 and his frantic and ungraceful efforts to keep 
 the shawls from dragging, that her delay and 
 forgetfulness was a plan on her part to fur- 
 nish amusement for herself and the rest of 
 the party at Mr. Scott's expense. 
 
 " The last to appear, as usual," said Henry, 
 trying to look reprovingly at Edith, as she 
 stepped into the boat. 
 
 " I couldn't help it, Henry," said Edith ; " I 
 forgot my vail. But I don't know what I 
 should have done, if it had not been for Mr. 
 Scott ; you left so many things for me to 
 carry." 
 
 " If you had got them ready in time it would 
 not have happened." 
 
 " Don't scold, Henry ; if Mr. Scott does
 
 58 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 not find fault you ought to be satisfied. Mr. 
 Scott, you are all out of style. Allow me to 
 reward you for your kindness, by tying this 
 vail around your straw hat ; all the gentlemen 
 wear them." 
 
 " Thank you, Miss Edith, you are very con- 
 siderate ; but I hope you did not go back ex- 
 pressly for it ? '' 
 
 " Of course I did ; and why not ? " 
 
 " Oh, I don't know ; but you are so kind." 
 
 " For heaven's sake, Edith," whispered Char- 
 lie, ' ' do stop. I believe that simpleton would 
 jump overboard if you should ask him." 
 
 " I have a great mind to try. What fun it 
 would be ! " 
 
 " Yes, certainly, for you ; but imagine how 
 he would look, and what would we do with 
 him ? " 
 
 " Oh, wring him out, and hang him to the 
 mast to dry," said Edith. 
 
 " Charlie, haul that jib-halyard taut. Look 
 out for the boom, ladies, we are going about." 
 
 " There ; I've got that horrid hook caught 
 in my glove. Mr. Scott, please see if you 
 can get it out," said Edith.
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 59 
 
 Mr. Scott did probably as well as any one, 
 as bashful as he, could have done, but his 
 efforts proved futile. Just as he seemed about 
 to succeed, Edith would drop her hand, declar- 
 ing that she was tired holding it up so long, 
 and back would go the hook. 
 
 " Don't be afraid ; you don't hurt me in 
 the least," said Edith, almost convulsed at 
 Mr. Scott's nervous and unsuccessful efforts. 
 " There ; now you have it ; thank you very 
 much." 
 
 " Not at all, Miss Edith ; but I fear I have 
 ruined your glove." 
 
 " Never mind that ; they are old ones." 
 Mr. Gantly, with Alice, sat opposite, very 
 much amused at Edith's roguish winks and 
 Mr. Scott's flushed and troubled expression, 
 till Alice, not knowing what Edith would do 
 next, said : " What is the matter with you to- 
 day, Edith? I never saw you act so in my 
 life." 
 
 " I am not acting badly ; am I, Mr. Gantly?" 
 
 " Not badly, Miss Edith, but decidedly lively." 
 
 " Well, I can't help it ; the rest of you are so 
 
 quiet. Now just look at Maggie and Mr. Je-
 
 60 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 rome. They have not said a word that any one 
 could hear since we started ; and just see ! they 
 are holding on to their lines for dear life, 
 and their hooks are both lying in the bottom 
 of the boat." 
 
 " Here we are at the island. Have you 
 any particular spot at which you wish to land, 
 Mr. Gantly ? " said Henry. 
 
 " None whatever; use your own judgment. 
 I am not at all familiar with the island." 
 
 " Please, Henry, land at Long Point, in- 
 stead of the Island, so that we can go to Lily 
 Pond. It is just the time for pond lilies. Did 
 you ever gather pond lilies, Mr. Scott ? " asked 
 Edith. 
 
 " No ; I should like very much to see how 
 they grow ; it will be charming." 
 
 " Then we must certainly give you an op- 
 portunity to see how they grow," said Edith, 
 giving a sly glance at Mr. Gantly. " Old 
 Dennis keeps boats, and I will get one only 
 large enough for you and me ; and you can 
 pull the lilies while I row the boat. Is it 
 a bargain? "
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 6l 
 
 " Most assuredly, Miss Edith, if it is your 
 pleasure. But pull your line in quickly, for we 
 are landing." 
 
 " Dennis, I must have that red boat. Please 
 do not take it from me, Mr. Gantly," begged 
 Edith. " It is just as cunning as it can be ; " 
 adding, in an undertone : " You know I cannot 
 trust ' Scotty ' to row, and these heavy boats 
 would tire me out." 
 
 " But, Edith, I am afraid that boat is not safe 
 for such a restless oarsman as you. It looks 
 as if it could be very easily upset. Why not 
 take the larger boats, and let one of us be oars- 
 man for you ? " 
 
 '" How kind you are," said Edith, saucily. 
 " You want to spoil tete-a-tete number three for 
 luck, I suppose." 
 
 " I would like to spoil it, if by so doing I 
 could get Mr. Scott's place." 
 
 Edith blushed, but quickly answered : " No, 
 no ; I must have the fun of seeing him gather 
 the lilies. Come, Mr. Scott. This is our boat," 
 and stepping into the little craft she seized the 
 oars and pushed out into the pond.
 
 62 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 The others did the same, with the exception 
 of Henry and Charlie, who preferred the com- 
 pany of their cigars and old Dennis's amusing 
 stories. 
 
 As a very brisk wind was blowing, Edith 
 though it best to row to the upper end of the 
 pond before she stopped for lilies. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Scott, you see I am rowing 
 right into that mass of leaves. You must look 
 over the side of the boat, and when you see 
 the flowers, pull them up. There's one now ; 
 don't you see it? " 
 
 " This is delightful, Miss Edith ; do you often 
 come here ? " 
 
 " Oh ! yes. But look sharp, or you'll tip the 
 boat, and a nice time you would have if I went 
 overboard." 
 
 " But I can swim, and would have the un- 
 speakable happiness of rescuing you." 
 
 " I think it would be unspeakably unbecom- 
 ing to me, my lovely hat and dress all drenched 
 
 Quick! there goes my vail. Oh! 
 
 why didn't you catch it ? Now, if you want 
 to make me unspeakably happy, rescue that. 
 There it is, in those leaves. It is the loveliest
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 63 
 
 one I ever had, and has not yet touched the 
 water." 
 
 " But, my dear Miss Edith, how am I to get 
 it ? We are some fifty yards from the bush, and 
 the leaves look so thick, I doubt if it be possi- 
 ble to get the boat through them." 
 
 " Never you fear about that ; only get my 
 vail. Here, take this umbrella, and when I 
 get as near as we can, you catch it with the 
 handle. It is positively like rowing through 
 sand. My arms ache so I cannot get an inch 
 further, Mr. Scott. Now lean forward as far as 
 possible, and I think you. will have it." 
 
 " Just a little nearer, Miss Edith ; I have al- 
 most reached it," said Mr. Scott, balancing 
 himself in the most ludicrous manner on the 
 bow of the boat, the umbrella held tightly in 
 both hands. 
 
 Edith shook with laughter ; and the spirit of 
 mischief was so strong in her that, without 
 really intending, she jerked herself to one side 
 of the boat, making it pitch, and almost in- 
 stantly Mr. Scott and umbrella were at full 
 length in the water. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Scott ! Help ! help ! " screamed
 
 64 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 Edith, as the poor victim of her sport floun- 
 dered up through the leaves. 
 
 Fortunately the water was not very deep, 
 and before the others came to the rescue he 
 had, with Edith's help, reached the boat, and a 
 most pitable-looking object he was. His light 
 clothes and faultless linen were a sorry sight. 
 Nothing but his hat was safe. That had fallen 
 back into the boat as he was thrown forward. 
 
 "Why, how did it happen?" all exclaimed 
 at once. 
 
 " Edith, I told you to be careful of that boat. 
 It is a miracle you were not both drowned." 
 
 " It was not the fault of the boat, Mr. 
 Gantly," answered Edith, looking into his face 
 And he could detect a twinkle in her eye, al- 
 though she had been frightened. " Mr. Scott 
 was trying to reach my vail, which had blown 
 off." 
 
 " Really, Mr. Gantly, Miss Le Roy is en- 
 tirely blameless. I was so anxious to reach the 
 vail that I suppose my foot slipped or I lost 
 my balance. I am really distressed to have 
 frightened you all by such a piece of awkward- 
 ness."
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 65 
 
 Edith busied herself with the oars, not rais- 
 ing her eyes to Mr. Gantly again. 
 
 " Edith," said Alice, "if -Mr. Scott will trust 
 himself with you, you had better row back to 
 Dennis as quickly as possible, so that he can 
 have an opportunity to dry his clothes." 
 
 " I am almost as good as new, young ladies," 
 said Mr. Scott, joining them at their lunch an 
 hour after the mishap ; " thanks to good Mrs. 
 Dennis and my friend Henry." 
 
 Edith was helping Charlie open clams ; but 
 immediately upon his appearance she came up, 
 and, offering him her hand, begged him to for- 
 give her for her thoughtlessness in placing him 
 in such a dangerous position. 
 
 " Don't mention it. There is no cause for 
 forgiveness on my part. The loss of the vail is 
 the only thing to be regretted."
 
 66 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Be useful where thou livest, that they may 
 Both want and wish thy pleasing presence still. 
 Kindnesse, good parts, great places are the way 
 To compasse this. Find out men's wants and will. 
 And meet them there. All worldly joys go lesse 
 To the one joy of doing Kindnesse." 
 
 GEORGE HERBERT. 
 
 AM now able to offer you the hospi- 
 tality of my home, my dear Mrs. Le 
 Roy," said Mr. Gantly, as he took 
 her hand of welcome and bowed to the young 
 ladies. " When I returned last evening I 
 brought with me my venerable but still charm- 
 ing Aunt Rachel." 
 
 " You are very kind, Mr. Gantly. We will 
 certainly take the earliest opportunity of calling 
 on your aunt." 
 
 " Calling alone will not do. You must drop 
 in to dinner or tea, and help me make the house 
 look alive."
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH, 6/ 
 
 "Pray are we included in the invited?" 
 asked Edith. 
 
 " Certainly. All must come," answered Mr. 
 Gantly. " And as soon as the old lady gets 
 things as she likes them, we will have a ball 
 or something of the kind. What shall it 
 be?" 
 
 " Oh, charming ! " exclaimed Maggie. " Do 
 have a fete. Throw open the green -houses 
 and light them with Japanese lanterns. How 
 lovely you are, Mr. Gantly! Will you really 
 do all this ? " 
 
 " By all means, if it will give you any pleas- 
 ure. When would it be best to have it ? " 
 
 " Some moonlight night," suggested Edith. 
 
 "How childish, Edith," said Maggie ; " don't 
 you know the place will look ever so much 
 more lovely lighted with lanterns ? " 
 
 " Really, girls, you are all very coolly taking 
 the management of Mr. Gantly's entertainment 
 into your own hands." 
 
 " Much to my relief, Miss Alice ; and if, 
 among you, you will only give me the neces- 
 sary information about such affairs, I promise 
 to be a most obedient servant in carrying out
 
 68 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 all plans. A society affair of this kind has be- 
 come decidedly terra incognita to me." 
 
 "Oh! Mr. Gantly. If you really mean to 
 give us such a treat, why mamma will be your 
 best ally; she'll help you greatly; won't you, 
 mamma, dear ? " 
 
 " Provided Mr. Gantly will assist us with the 
 church music. I must protest against your re- 
 maining idle any longer, my good sir. Surely 
 it cannot be any trouble for you to play. Music 
 seems to be a very part of you. You seem to 
 weave your melodies into august harmonies. 
 I remember having read that 'when Jubal 
 played his first tune, he opened the golden 
 gates to a new realm.' The night you so highly 
 favored us, I constantly recalled that passage. 
 Every note seemed a spiritual development, 
 an echo from another world. Dr. Cutler, please 
 try your persuasive powers." 
 
 " I hardly think persuasion necessary in your 
 case, Mr. Gantly. Every creature of God is 
 sent into the world for a certain life-time, to do 
 certain things. Our forms combine the same 
 elements, but we are differently endowed. We 
 have our talents, and we must make proper use
 
 / , 
 
 /~y ) 
 
 ALL ABWT EDITH: 769 
 
 of them. You see the call for you, and the 
 chance of your usefulness ; and I do not think 
 you are the man to say : ' I have nothing to 
 do with this want ; I did not make it.' " 
 
 " I fear, Dr. Cutler, my reluctance is misun- 
 derstood. It does not arise from any unwill- 
 ingness ; but I have long since given up the 
 technicalities and intricacies of music. And 
 furthermore, I allow my feelings to originate 
 ideas and invent forms." 
 
 " And suppose you do ! Geniuses alone can 
 create and compose. This acknowledged in- 
 spiration shows your fitness. Do you suppose, 
 Mr. Gantly, that the divine song that long ago 
 rolled over the plains of Bethlehem, and melted 
 back into heaven again with the vocal host, 
 had any original form ? You see I have plainly 
 pointed out your mission. Be not a thirsty loi- 
 terer at the fountain of life, but make use of your 
 talent. Remember Bacon's words : ' Men must 
 know that in this theater of man's life it remain- 
 eth only to God and angels to be lookers-on.' " 
 
 "Oh dear! I am so tired waiting, Henry. 
 We certainly will be late."
 
 7O ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 " How childish you are, Edith. Mother 
 should not have consented to your going this 
 evening ; your element is the school-room. 
 Too late! little ignoramus! One is not ex- 
 pected to go to a ball on time." 
 
 " But Mr. Gantly said we were to be there 
 at eight ; and now we have lost half an hour's 
 fun. Even late as it is, Maggie is not half 
 ready. How you would shout if you could 
 see her promenading before the glass. She 
 has enlisted Nora's services ; Mary was not 
 enough." 
 
 " Maggie dresses well, Edith ; and to do so 
 takes time, I should judge. Now, as to your 
 dress, it is only a simple white tarlatan ; noth- 
 ing effective about it, so it can be put on in a 
 short time." 
 
 "Of all horribly mean speeches! Well, 
 before I would fairly worship a girl, as you 
 do Maggie (and I don't believe she cares a 
 pin about it), I should just go without one at 
 all. And allow me to say, Master Henry, that 
 you have not seen my dress yet. I am all 
 bundled up now, but it is just lovely, and I 
 didn't get into it in any short order at all, but
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. /I 
 
 like a natural being. I began early. There 
 they come at last." 
 
 " Maggie, ma chere, would you believe it, 
 this little ignoramus has been working her- 
 self into a fever, because we have lost half an 
 hour of the ball, waiting for the completion 
 of your charming toilet." 
 
 "Oh! I'm not astonished. Her head has 
 been completely turned since Mr. Gantly sent 
 her that bouquet. She don't appear to under- 
 stand it as an attention always customary, this 
 being the first party la petite title has at- 
 tended." 
 
 Edith's eyes fairly danced with delight as 
 she entered the magnificent drawing-room by 
 her mother's side, and involuntarily exclaimed, 
 " Oh! mamma, isn't it like fairy-land ? " 
 
 It certainly was. Mr. Gantly had caused 
 all the rare plants to be brought in from the 
 hot-house. The room was lighted with can- 
 dles. The band was hidden in an alcove by 
 a screen of tropical plants. As Edith moved 
 into the room, a murmur passed from one to 
 another of the guests, " How lovely ! She 
 could not have been more becomingly dressed.
 
 72 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 That pure white, with her lovely color and 
 black hair! Some hearts will ache before long." 
 
 As Mrs. Le Roy advanced into the room 
 (Mr. Gantly having offered his arm to Alice), 
 a young man joined her. A very few words 
 will describe him. He was slight, fair, had 
 sandy hair, and a shadow on his upper lip, 
 lisped somewhat, and dangled a glass with 
 one finger. 
 
 "Oh! ah! Mrs. Le Roy. Charmed to see 
 you this evening. Pray introduce me to your 
 lovely daughter." 
 
 " Edith, Mr. Isling." 
 
 " May I have the pleasure, Miss Le Roy, of 
 a waltz?" 
 
 Soon they were in the giddy maze of the 
 dance. Edith was nervous, and begged to 
 be excused from finishing it. 
 
 " Oh ! charming," exclaimed Isling. " Then 
 we'll promenade. It is so refreshing to find 
 some one who cares to promenade ; young 
 ladies seem to think of nothing but dancing." 
 
 " I fear you misjudge us, Mr. Isling ; but 
 there is a time for every thing, and we come 
 to balls principally to dance."
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 73 
 
 " True ; but a fellow finds it so hard to 
 dance all winter, and then be obliged to keep 
 it up all summer." 
 
 " I cannot see any obligation in the mat- 
 ter. If it be such a b&te noir, why do you at- 
 tend ? " 
 
 " Why, you see I have been abroad for the 
 past two years, and the governor says unless 
 I show myself people would forget me." 
 
 " Oh ! that would be sad, indeed," said 
 Edith, putting her bouquet to her face to 
 hide a smile. At the same time she caught 
 Willie Jerome's eye, and he came immedi- 
 ately across the room. 
 
 " Miss Edith, you are engaged to me for 
 the next ? " 
 
 " I believe so. Excuse me, Mr. Isling. I 
 hope you may recover from your fatigue be- 
 fore the evening is over. How thankful I am 
 to you for taking me away from that simple- 
 ton. Is that what I am to meet in society ? " 
 
 " I should hope not. But isn't this glori- 
 .ous ? And you have made such a sensation. 
 The fellows are all waiting for an introduc- 
 tion ; but you must not go back on me. I 
 4
 
 74 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 claim at least four waltzes, and no end of 
 promenades." 
 
 " How perfectly ridiculous ! You will forget 
 all about me as soon as you find Maggie. She 
 is simply lovely to-night." 
 
 " I have seen her, and agree with you fully 
 as to her appearance, which, by the way, I con- 
 sider studied to assist her in captivating our 
 mutual friend Gantly. Furthermore, could I be 
 enticed from my present very charming com- 
 pany, I should have no chance with her. She 
 has been with our host ever since your arrival, 
 and has refused to dance any thing but square 
 dances." 
 
 " How strange ! Why, she has talked about 
 the dancing ever since Mr. Gantly spoke of 
 having the ball. But have you seen Alice ? " 
 
 " Yes, she is in the library with a friend of 
 Dr. Cutler's a divine, I could take my davy. 
 I am half inclined to study for the ministry my- 
 self. It is quite the swell thing now." 
 
 " Oh ! how can you talk so ? " 
 
 " Don't you think so yourself? Now take 
 the case of that smooth-faced fellow sitting 
 alone there with your sister. No one thinks
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 75 
 
 it out of the order of things ; but just let me 
 try the same dodge, and see what would come 
 of it ! Oh ! they are talking theology ; you 
 say high church and low church. Well I must 
 confess I entertain doubts about this church 
 business. It covers a multitude of sins." 
 
 " I positively will not give you another 
 waltz if you talk such heresy." 
 
 " You would not be so cruel. But come and 
 promenade in the conservatory. This waltz is 
 just finishing, and that beardless youth is com- 
 ing toward us." 
 
 " This conservatory is just perfect opening 
 off the house in this way. I could pass the 
 whole evening here in some certain delightful 
 company," said Jerome, looking down at Edith. 
 " But what are you biting that bouquet for ? 
 I'll not send you another." 
 
 "That's cool. You are not to be thanked 
 for it at all. Mr. Gantly sent it. Besides, 
 I was not biting it ; I think too much of 
 it." 
 
 " Give me one of the flowers, won't you ? " 
 
 " No, I could not. I want to keep it just as 
 it is, for you know it is my first."
 
 y6 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 " All the more reason, then, that you should 
 share it. 
 
 " ' One rose, but one, by those fair fingers cull'd, 
 Were worth a hundred kisses pressed on lips 
 Less exquisite than thine/ " 
 
 quoted Jerome, leaning down to grasp the 
 flower. His whiskers almost touched her face. 
 At that moment Charlie Barclay came toward 
 them. He had evidently seen Jerome's mo- 
 tion. 
 
 "Edith, I have been looking through all the 
 rooms for you. I hardly expected to find you 
 here. Allow me the next waltz, will you not ? 
 I had hoped for one sooner, but was delayed 
 getting from home." 
 
 " Remember you are my partner for the fol- 
 lowing one, Miss Edith," cried Jerome, as the 
 couple moved off. 
 
 The rooms were very warm, so after a short 
 waltz Charlie led the way toward the piazza. 
 They were inclosed in canvas, he said, and there 
 was not a possibility of catching cold. 
 
 " Now prepare, Edith, for I'm about to lec- 
 ture. Don't you know that you ' didn't ought ' 
 to have permitted certain familiarities that Je-
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 77 
 
 rome assumed a short time ago. It won't do 
 to allow him any slack rope, for he is one liable 
 to take advantage of inexperience." 
 
 " Why, this is absurd, Charlie ; Mr. Jerome is 
 very polite." 
 
 " Polite ! You hardly know him. He is 
 coolly preparing to twist you round his finger. 
 You can of course prevent him right easily if 
 you only will, and you will do so, won't you ? 
 For I really think that the exclusive attention 
 of a comparative stranger to so young a girl as 
 yourself cannot be of advantage in the long run." 
 
 " Now, Charlie, don't scold. I can't stand it. 
 It only makes me cross, and then I do exactly 
 what I don't intend. I want to have a good 
 time when I am out ; that is what I go for." 
 
 " But, Edith, promise me not to be with 
 Jerome so much." 
 
 " Oh ! nonsense ! How silly of you ! He 
 dances just to perfection, and I am engaged to 
 him for three more waltzes." 
 
 " Edith, I beg of you to refuse him. Here 
 he is coming now." 
 
 " I cannot, Charlie. There is no use ask- 
 ing."
 
 78 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 And so it proved. The three promised 
 waltzes were claimed and given, although the 
 last one was started under a withering glance 
 from Maggie. Charlie's early departure saved 
 him from seeing such total neglect of his ad- 
 vice. Toward the close of the evening, when 
 Mrs. Le Roy was marshaling her forces, pre- 
 paratory to leaving, an inquiry as to Edith's 
 whereabouts proved unanswerable. Just at the 
 last moment Henry discovered her with Jerome, 
 out on the end of the long piazza., where they 
 had gone to see the moon rise. After Mrs. 
 Le Roy had been safely deposited in the fam- 
 ily coach, Henry anticipated Mr. Gantly, and 
 escorted Maggie from the house. She was not 
 in the best of humors, however. 
 
 " Four are too many in that coach, Miss 
 Edith," whispered Jerome. " My carriage is 
 standing but a step behind. Let me drive you 
 home. It will be so much more enjoyable and 
 less close." 
 
 Edith did not realize what she was doing 
 until she found herself seated beside Mr. Je- 
 rome, as they dashed by her father's coach. 
 Then it was that her heart almost stood still.
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 79 
 
 All the thoughtless rashness of the action 
 rushed before her. What would her mother 
 think ? 
 
 " Oh ! thou child of many prayers ! 
 Life hath quicksands ; life hath snares." 
 
 " Yes, quicksands enough," thought she, as 
 they passed rapidly through the manor gate, 
 out into the broad highway. Jerome's horse 
 was fast, and he had some trouble holding him. 
 So, to Edith's relief, but little coversation was 
 possible. As they drew near home Jerome 
 proposed a continuance of the drive. The 
 motion, however, met with so emphatic a veto 
 that he quickly drew up before the door, 
 handed her out, thanked her for so short a 
 pleasure, hoped it would not be the last, and 
 was off in an instant. 
 
 Edith rushed to her room, locked and bolted 
 the door. The agony of her mind was unbear- 
 able for a few moments. What had she done ! 
 How mamma would grieve at her ungrateful 
 way of repaying her indulgence in permitting 
 her to go to this ball! She had really tried 
 to avoid doing any thing likely to cause cen- 
 sure, and had miserably failed. She had done
 
 8o ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 wrong. She knew it. She knew that her 
 mother had ample cause for chiding, and she 
 looked toward this scolding with a sense of 
 relief. But it did exasperate her to think of 
 the many second-hand rubs she must infallibly 
 get from here, there, and everywhere. It was 
 so hard to be taken to task by a little of every 
 body. If they would only let her alone she 
 would get along much better. To-morrow! 
 What would it bring forth ? Henry would 
 scold ; Alice would put on that sanctimonious 
 look ; and, worse than all, Maggie's sarcasm ! 
 Mamma would be all right, however, and for- 
 give her as soon as she put her arms about 
 her neck and begged forgiveness. That last 
 thought was reassuring. So, listening until 
 they were all in their rooms, she crept to her 
 mother's door, and soon obtained that unspeak- 
 able gift a mother's blessing.
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 8l 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 " Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords 
 with might." 
 
 TENNYSON. 
 
 T may be she will listen to you, Mr. 
 Gantly," said Henry to his friend, as 
 they were finishing their cigars on 
 the piazza.. " As for me, I am discouraged. I 
 never was so mortified in all my life as I was 
 last evening, and in consequence have hardly 
 spoken to her to-day." 
 
 " That is decidedly a very unwise course to 
 pursue. I take it, you will manage Edith bet- 
 ter by kindness." 
 
 " What can I do more ? I have begged her 
 to act differently. I have maneuvered to keep 
 her from Jerome, but without success. He 
 flatters her, and follows her every footstep ; 
 and yet, confound the fellow, he does not do 
 any thing that I can pick a quarrel with him 
 for. Now, suppose you speak to her. She
 
 82 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 will listen to you ; I know she will, for she 
 thinks you know more than any body else." 
 
 " But one moment, Henry ; are you sure she 
 doesn't care for Jerome ? " 
 
 " Care for him ! Preposterous ! If she knew 
 what it was to be in love she would act very 
 differently. Don't you see how heedless her 
 actions are ? " 
 
 " Well, I am ready to do a favor, and all that 
 sort of thing, but it is rather a delicate piece of 
 business." 
 
 " Not at all. Simply advise her to act with 
 more discretion. Now, here's your chance. 
 You asked her to run over those new pieces, 
 until you finished your cigar. I hear her at 
 them, so we will go in now. I will take Mag- 
 gie and Alice to the billiard room, and that 
 will give you a clear field. While you are 
 practicing, nothing will be easier than to refer 
 to last night." 
 
 " That symphony never seemed as beautiful 
 to me as it does to-night, Mr. Gantly," said 
 Edith, as she turned toward him while he was 
 changing his cornet shank.
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 83 
 
 " How do you account for that, Edith ? '' 
 
 " Really, I do not know, except that I have 
 felt very quiet all day. Reaction of the ball 
 feelings, I suppose. We did have such a glo- 
 rious time. I did not imagine any thing could 
 have been so beautiful." 
 
 " You did really seem to enjoy yourself. I 
 was delighted to see you so happy. I fear you 
 made some hearts tingle just a little. At least 
 so I judge." 
 
 " Why, I hardly saw you all the evening. 
 You were with Maggie all the time." 
 
 " It does not follow that I did not see you. 
 And, by the way, there was another observer, 
 who not only saw, but took pains to obtain a 
 closer vision ; I refer to Isling. The poor fellow 
 dodged all around the room in the endeavor to 
 claim you as a partner.' 
 
 " Oh! ft&a petit mattre ! Excuse me, but I 
 must call him so. I begged of Mr. Jerome to 
 keep me from him." 
 
 " Indeed ! Dp you not think it just possible 
 that some one would have liked to have kept 
 you from Jerome ? " 
 
 Edith almost trembled. First she turned
 
 84 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 white, and then blushed to the roots of her 
 hair. " I declare this is too mean, Mr. Gantly. 
 Henry or some one of my kind friends has 
 been telling you of my my of last night. 
 They are just as mean as they can be, and no- 
 body loves me or they would not torment 
 me so," said Edith, burying her face in her 
 hands. 
 
 Mr. Gantly got up, and taking her hands 
 from her face, raised her from the piano. Then 
 gazing steadily into her eyes, he said, " Edith, 
 never repeat that again. Some one does love 
 you, and very dearly too. But, Edith, can you 
 love me ? " 
 
 Edith never knew what she said ; but she 
 found herself in Mr. Gantly 's arms. 
 
 " I will see your father to-morrow. But we 
 must now go to the billiard room, my pet." 
 
 " Oh, no, no ! I cannot I am so I don't 
 know what. But tell them I am tired, or have 
 a headache, and am gone to mamma." 
 
 " I declare, Edith, this is shameful ! Norah, 
 do you not know better than to let Edith sit up 
 so late when she has a headache?" asked
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 85 
 
 Alice authoritatively, as she and Maggie came 
 into Edith's room some two hours later, and 
 found the inmate having a lively conversation 
 with Norah, her old nurse, while she was brush- 
 ing her hair. 
 
 " Bless your heart, Miss Alice, I never saw 
 her better or so hard to get to bed. She has 
 been playing all kinds of tricks to prevent my 
 finishing, she has. And, would you believe it, 
 told me, if I did not stop scolding her, she 
 would get married, and then I would have no 
 one to fix : the child, to be talking that way. 
 And bless your heart, if she didn't ask me if I'd 
 ever been in love." 
 
 Edith now screamed with delight, saying, 
 " Do, please, Norah, tell them the story you 
 told me." 
 
 " Oh ! for shame, child. Do you suppose 
 the young lady and Miss Alice would listen to 
 such nonsense ? " 
 
 "Norah, you make the most charitable ex- 
 cuse for Edith's faults. None but a child would 
 so far forget herself as Edith does. Alice, do 
 you not fear that Mr. Gantly's playing with her 
 so much will turn her head ? "
 
 86 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 " Many thanks, Maggie. However, I pro- 
 pose doing as I like, and playing with whom I 
 please," retorted Edith. " You are very prop- 
 erly jealous, because you cannot be with him 
 all the time. Moreover, he likes to play with 
 me, and that settles it." 
 
 " Jealous, mon enfant! why I have no cause 
 for jealousy. You may be flattered by Mr. 
 Gantly's attention, but, trust me, he practices 
 with you solely for his own improvement." 
 
 " Alice, how can you stand there and hear 
 your sister spoken to in that manner ? Mr. 
 Gantly appreciates me and my playing a little, 
 as you may find to your sorrow, Maggie 
 Allen," cried Edith, throwing herself on the 
 bed and bursting into tears. 
 
 " Norah, you can quiet the baby best. 
 Come, Maggie," and Alice led the way from the 
 room. 
 
 The excitement of the last two days had 
 been too much for Edith's impulsive nature, 
 and this burst of weeping was, perhaps, the 
 best thing that could have happened to relieve 
 her. Had she had any doubts about her affec- 
 tion for Mr. Gantly, this discussion put them all
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 8/ 
 
 to flight. How would Miss Maggie feel when 
 she found out her maneuvering had been to no 
 effect, and that the child was preferred to the 
 flirt?
 
 88 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 ' For of all sad words of tonge or pen, 
 The saddest are these, ' It might have been.' " 
 
 WHITTIER. 
 
 HREE weeks had passed since Edith's 
 parents had given their consent to her 
 engagement. They were very loth to 
 do so at first, on account of her extreme youth ; 
 but after several conversations her mother 
 finding that she appreciated the responsibility 
 of the step she was about taking, and perceiving 
 the reality of her attachment to Mr. Gantly 
 considered objection groundless, and the more 
 so as she felt confident in Mr. Gantly's guid- 
 ance. 
 
 " Mamma, it's utterly impossible for me to 
 finish this picture," exclaimed Edith, petulantly 
 throwing down her brush, and pushing back 
 her chair from the easel. " My heart is not in 
 the work. Just look at those leaves. I declare 
 it is a perfect daub."
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 89 
 
 " I wonder, Edith, that you feel so about 
 this fair. Are you not afraid of discouraging 
 Alice ? She seems perfectly wrapt up in it." 
 
 " I would not discourage Alice for any thing, 
 mamma. I know that she is doing all in good 
 faith. But it does provoke me to see her so 
 completely tied to Mrs. Bush's apron-strings. 
 Alice is a mere cat's-paw, and will do all the 
 work, while Mrs. Bush will go about boasting 
 of the success of her fair." 
 
 " Do not judge too hastily, Edith. This 
 fair is for the aid of the mill hands, and is en- 
 tirely approved of by Dr. Cutler." 
 
 " Are you sure of that, mamma ? Dr. Cutler 
 cannot say it is positively wrong, and he thinks 
 it best to interest such people as Mrs. Bush in 
 church work." 
 
 " Then it must be best," replied Mrs. Le- 
 Roy. " Besides, we require all the money to 
 keep up the schools, and clothe those poor 
 children." 
 
 " Very true. But don't you see, mamma, a 
 fair is not almsgiving. It is projected for noth- 
 ing but pleasure and vanity, a regular bargain 
 for amusement. We always met the expenses
 
 90 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 and raised all the funds necessary without get- 
 ting back ridiculous pin-cushions and knick- 
 knacks in exchange." 
 
 " That is very severe, Edith. You must not 
 think all charity worthless, but that given with 
 unmixed motives." 
 
 " Mamma, I cannot believe such money does 
 any good. It comes from frivolity instead of 
 self-denial, and it grieves me to see our mission 
 supported by such funds." 
 
 " Why didn't you reason with Alice in this 
 way, and I am sure she would not have taken 
 part in it." 
 
 " I did try to, but she called me high-flown 
 and a visionary." 
 
 " It is unfortunate, Edith ; but you must not 
 show any strong disapproval now. There is 
 nothing really wrong in it, so finish a few of 
 your paintings for them, just enough to show 
 your willingness to be amiable, and when you 
 are Mrs. Gantly you may be president. Then 
 you can do what is best for the welfare of the 
 society." 
 
 " It is hard," sighed Edith. " But I suppose I 
 must submit Painting is out of the question in my
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. QI 
 
 present humor. I must have a run on the lawn 
 with Rollo and to get myself in better spirits. 
 
 " How now, Edith ; at your old tricks 
 again ? Do you scold Rollo because he 
 gives me the welcome his mistress withholds ? " 
 
 " Oh, Charlie ! How glad I am to see you, 
 and how well you look. But when did you get 
 back ? " 
 
 " Not more than two hours ago. In a hurry 
 coming over so soon, am I not ? " 
 
 " Hardly, I should say. You have been 
 away so long. I almost imagined you had 
 gone to Europe." 
 
 " You were not very far wrong." 
 
 " Why, you don't tell me that you are going ! 
 When do you start ? How long are you going 
 to be away ? Of course you'll go by a Cunarder, 
 won't you ? Come, tell us all about it." 
 
 " How can I, unless you stop long enough 
 between your questions, for me to answer 
 them ? Just take my arm, and we'll have an 
 old-fashioned stroll, as I have a great deal to 
 talk to you about." 
 
 " Oh, I can't wait for a long introduction. Tell
 
 92 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 me. right away if you are going to Europe, and 
 then we'll have the particulars afterwards." 
 
 " I hardly think I can get off to-morrow or 
 next week ; perhaps not until spring. Never- 
 theless, Miss Impatience, I am going some- 
 time, and have mother's consent." 
 
 " How glad I am ; but how came she to con- 
 sent ? " 
 
 " Why, you see Dr. Pease was at Newport 
 with us, and won mother's heart ; some of his 
 remedies had such wonderful effects on her 
 neuralgia. Being my preceptor, he wishes me 
 to have every advantage, and so put in a good 
 word for me to mother, and obtained her con- 
 sent to my studying abroad." 
 
 " Really this is charming, Charlie. What a 
 perfectly magnificent time you will have ! But 
 you won't go before summer, will you ? " 
 
 " Perhaps not, but the sooner I go, the soon- 
 er I shall get home, and I am very anxious for 
 that time to come." 
 
 " I must say that's funny. You do all in 
 your power to get permission to go, and at 
 the same time are making plans to come 
 home."
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 93 
 
 " What would our life be, Miss Wisehead, if 
 we had nothing to look forward to ? " asked 
 Charlie, looking affectionately at Edith. " In 
 my case, I hope and trust a great treasure 
 awaits my claiming when I return." 
 
 An electric shock seemed to pass through 
 Edith. Her eyes were suddenly opened to a 
 position of things she had not dreamed of, and 
 she knew not how to meet it. In an embar- 
 rassed tone she answered : " I presume so. 
 You will then take upon yourself the duties of 
 your profession." 
 
 " I will have a long life before I find a treasure 
 in that, Edith. The treasure I refer to, is one 
 of a higher value. Do you not remember I 
 told you I would some day finish the conver- 
 sation we began in the library that evening? " 
 
 Edith seemed stunned, and slowly answered 
 " Yes." 
 
 Placing his hand over the one that rested on 
 his arm, and looking at her earnestly, he con- 
 tinued : " I will finish it now. I have always 
 loved you, and now " 
 
 " Oh ! spare me ! spare me, Charlie ! " gasped 
 Edith. " I never thought you loved me. It is
 
 94 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 too late now ; I am engaged. Oh ! help me to 
 do my duty," and sinking upon one of the lawn 
 chairs she sobbed like a child. 
 
 It was some time before Charlie could fully 
 comprehend Edith's broken explanation ; but 
 an appreciation of his own position having been 
 once realized, a decision as to his own line of 
 action was soon reached. In those few mo- 
 ments the hopeful youth became a determined 
 man. 
 
 " Edith, I understand it all. Being with you 
 so constantly, I did not notice the change from 
 childhood, and always thinking of your future 
 happiness as connected with my own. I waited 
 for such times as you should thoroughly under- 
 stand the depth of your feelings toward me, be- 
 lieving you loved me." 
 
 " Oh, Charlie! Do not torture me any more. 
 I do love you dearly, as a brother. I never 
 thought of you in any other way. And now 
 that I am promised to another, and have given 
 him my love, I know you will help me to do 
 my duty. Will you not ? " 
 
 " Edith, you show your characteristic faith- 
 fulness. Help you do your duty ! Yes, indeed,
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 95 
 
 to the extent of my power. Do not for a mo- 
 ment imagine that I will in any way lead you 
 from it. God bless you, Edith, and remember 
 that I claim the title and love of a brother." 
 
 Printing a kiss on her forehead, he placed her 
 hand on his arm, and led her silently home. 
 
 Edith went immediately to her room. She 
 seemed like one moving in a dream, to whom 
 comes far-away thoughts of sweetness, while 
 the path of duty stretches out narrow and dis- 
 tinct before her. Her trials and troubles here- 
 tofore had been those of ordinary everyday life, 
 which she could take to her mother, while she 
 asked for advice and comfort ; but this was her 
 first real grief, to be buried in the depths of her 
 own heart, and so completely entombed that 
 no one should be wronged by its coming or its 
 departure.
 
 96 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 What was to him the squander'd wealth ? 
 What was to him the burden of the land, 
 
 The lavish'd misery ? 
 He did but speak his will, 
 And like the blasting siroc of the sands, 
 
 The ruin of the royal voice 
 
 Found its way everywhere." 
 
 SOUTHEY. 
 
 DITH had been a bride for some weeks. 
 Her life seemed one long day of hap- 
 piness. Not only was she the joy of 
 every one's heart, but all nature seemed to 
 smile on her, and clothe itself with the fairest 
 flowers and brightest sunshine. The wedding 
 had been the most elegant one of the season. 
 Simply to say the bride was beautiful, wouldfail 
 to award her justice. An ethereal halo seemed 
 to surround her as she assumed the sacred 
 promise of her life. From that day forward Mr. 
 Gantly apparently had but one thought, and that
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 97 
 
 was for her happiness. The Manor had been 
 thoroughly renovated, and Edith's boudoir was 
 a miniature fairy-land. Henry surprised her 
 one morning in her dainty retreat, reclining on 
 a lounge of the palest blue. In her delicate 
 white morning dress she looked so exceedingly 
 picturesque that her brother paused before ex- 
 pelling the vision by an intrusion of his mascu- 
 line presence. He hesitated a moment on the 
 threshold, then came forward and kissed her on 
 both cheeks, at the same time saying : " I know 
 some one who takes the full benefit of luxury." 
 
 " Henry, would you believe it, I was at that 
 moment thinking that I was almost too happy, 
 and had almost too much luxury." 
 
 " Time enough for that, Edith. Do not bor- 
 row trouble. It comes without an invitation. 
 I came to talk to you about Charlie ; I cannot 
 understand it." 
 
 " Understand what, Henry ? " 
 
 " That's what I am going to tell you. The 
 night that you were married, I saw a gentle- 
 man standing in the church porch. Something 
 in his figure attracted my attention, and as we 
 passed I looked sharply at him. It must have 
 $
 
 98 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 been Charlie I could swear it was. His hat 
 was slouched over his eyes, and he bent for- 
 ward and looked into your face as you 
 passed." 
 
 " Impossible, Henry. I should have noticed 
 him ; and you remember he told you he was to 
 sail the early part of last month." 
 
 " The fact of your not noticing him goes for 
 nothing, and I doubt if you could have recog- 
 nized me, as you walked into the church, you 
 were so abstracted. No, no ! I was certain of 
 what I saw, and it has worried me ever since. 
 Yesterday I went to see Wood, purposely to find 
 out about that sailing business, and he told me 
 that Charlie had been so very much interested 
 in some cases lately, that he had found it impos- 
 sible to leave before the last of the month ; and, 
 to cap all, I found by looking up the old papers 
 it was not until two days after the wedding 
 that he sailed. So now I am convinced that it 
 was he I noticed. But what bothers me is 
 that I cannot comprehend why he, our dearest 
 friend, should act so strangely, and not come to 
 your wedding at least should have come in 
 that way."
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 99 
 
 " You must have imagined it, Henry," said 
 Edith listlessly, and yet in her heart she felt 
 certain it was too true. 
 
 " Imagination! Not a bit of it. I believe the 
 fellow is eccentric. Wood says he has been 
 looking very poorly of late, and has worked 
 like a dog among the poor. He thinks him 
 more calculated for a clergyman than any thing 
 else. Now I'm going to leave you, and hunt 
 up Mr. Gantly. Do you know where he is ? " 
 
 " I think he is in the library writing, and, if I 
 mistake not, wants to see you, from the way he 
 inquired if you would be up this morning." 
 
 Mr. Gantly was seated at a large desk smok- 
 ing, and surrounded by a quantity of papers. 
 As Henry came into the room he greeted him 
 heartily. " I am so glad you came up, Henry. 
 I have an annoying piece of business to ask 
 you about. But have you seen Edith ? " 
 
 " Yes. And I find her looking more lovely 
 than ever. But what can I do for you ? You 
 seem to have plenty of papers about you." 
 
 " I should say so ; and for the life of me, I 
 can't make any sense out of them. I never 
 was calculated for a business man, and can-
 
 100 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 not turn myself into one at this late day. 
 You see Parish attends to every thing, and 
 keeps things straight ; but it seems that I should 
 have sent him word about my marrying a 
 minor. It really never entered my head. It 
 is really quite laughable, is it not ? " 
 
 " Hardly laughable," said Henry ; " rather 
 troublesome, if you have any conveyances to 
 make." 
 
 " That is just it, and I should never have 
 thought of it had not Craft & Co. sent me 
 some papers that it was necessary for Edith to 
 sign. Being a married man now, my wife 
 would have to appear as a party in a suit they 
 are contesting for me. Upon the notary ask- 
 ing her age, I told him she was seventeen. 
 He smiled, and said he had had a delightful 
 trip, but it would be of no benefit to his firm 
 as my wife's signature was not good until she 
 came of age. Craft wrote immediately to Par- 
 ish, and here is his letter to me : 
 
 " ' MY DEAR GANTLY : When I left home 
 every thing was in good shape, as you remem- 
 ber, and, for that matter, you were yourself. I
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. IOI 
 
 had no more thought of your marrying than I 
 had of taking such a foolish step myself. But 
 enough of that. I wrote you my congratula- 
 tions, etc. However, judge of my astonishment 
 yesterday, upon receiving a letter from Craft, 
 stating your wife to be a child of seventeen. 
 I don't think you fully comprehend the difficulty 
 of the position. But what is cannot be helped, 
 so we must make the best of it. I will return 
 as soon as possible, and set things straight if I 
 can. You see that suit against the estate is 
 important, involving as it does so large an 
 amount of real property, and it is necessarily 
 very expensive to carry on. Furthermore, your 
 property is mostly in real estate, and cannot 
 now be advantageously sold or mortgaged to 
 meet expenses until madams is of age. Craft 
 wrote me a very short letter the other day, say- 
 ing his time was too valuable to waste, and he 
 could not run the risk of waiting four years for 
 payment. He insisted upon my attending to 
 the business at once, as you seem to have more 
 ideas about love than of affairs like this. He 
 was rather impudent, I confess. But you see 
 these men get very disagreeable if you touch
 
 102 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 their pockets. Your business has kept me tied 
 down so tight the past few years that I had 
 hoped to have had a little rest. But I fear I 
 must now go and do some of it over again. I 
 may be home by the next steamer. Have had 
 a charming time. I ran across your cousin 
 Depuy a short time since at Brighton. He 
 looked as if he had been living rather high. 
 Also went to call on your friend Madame De 
 Lancey, and had a very pleasant visit. She 
 sent a number of messages, which I will deliver 
 personally. I hope you have taken good care 
 of the place, and of Spite, as I want to ride 
 when I get home. Regards and congratula- 
 tions to your bride, and believe me as ever, old 
 fellow, 
 
 "N. P." 
 
 " This is rather serious, Mr. Gantly, unless 
 you have the control of large funds to carry 
 your property until* Edith's majority. How 
 about that ? " 
 
 " Really I don't know. There was consid- 
 erable personal property when Parish got it 
 from the estate ; but in what form it is now, I 
 hardly know ; but I always had more than I
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 10$ 
 
 wanted, so when he gets home it will be all 
 right. This Craft will be the only bother. He 
 is very arbitrary, and if he makes up his mind 
 to any thing we will have to give in to him or 
 lose the case." 
 
 " Rather bad, that; but I know so little about 
 law. Do you trust every thing to Parish ? He 
 seems to speak of things almost as if they were 
 his own." 
 
 " Why, certainly. He has worked hard for 
 me, and takes more interest in this business 
 than I do, and being bachelors we have always 
 been together and are as intimate as brothers." 
 
 " I hardly think there are many men honest 
 enough to have the entire control of an estate 
 like yours." 
 
 " Very true, Henry ; but Parish is one in a 
 thousand. However, this is not very agreea- 
 ble work, and my little wife must be getting 
 lonely, so we will go and lunch with her."
 
 104 ALL AB UT EDITH. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds, 
 Makes ill deeds done ! " 
 
 R. PARISH arrived, according to 
 promise, a few weeks after, and spent 
 several days at the manor. He was a 
 society man, fine looking, and a great favorite 
 with ladies, for he had the faculty of adapting 
 himself to the tastes and pleasures of those he 
 was with, and consequently made friends rap- 
 idly. To all appearances he was soon deeply 
 interested in church work (as that was Edith's 
 and now her husband's pleasure), and any plan 
 Edith proposed always received his hearty sup- 
 port, no matter what the cost. He evidently 
 admired her greatly. 
 
 " Really, Gantly," said Mr. Parish, coming 
 into the library with an open letter in his hand, 
 some three weeks after his return, " I do not 
 know what we are going to do with Craft. He
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. IO5 
 
 is threatening to throw the suit aside, unless 
 some immediate arrangement is made to meet 
 the expenses as they occur. I have all the 
 other matters fixed, and, as you know, have 
 taken the risk of being security for you, in 
 order to raise money sufficient for current ex- 
 penses until your wife shall be of age. But 
 this matter will take so much money, I do not 
 feel like shouldering it. We never can tell 
 what may happen if Craft loses the case, with 
 all that is sunk in it. He hints at a kind of 
 partnership in the matter. I will read you 
 what he says : ' It being such a long and 
 expensive litigation, we do not feel authorized 
 in carrying it on without the certainty of 
 the money for expenses being forthcoming as 
 those expenses occur. Unless Mr. Gantly can 
 make such an arrangement, we must give the 
 case up. Or, being familiar with his distaste 
 for business, we might take an assignment of 
 the property for a given sum, Mr. Gantly sign- 
 ing an agreement that, at the coming of age 
 of his wife, she shall sign the deed with him. 
 This releases him from all further anxiety. 
 We pay him the sum agreed to, when a clear 
 5*
 
 IO6 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 title is handed to us, and bear all expenses. 
 Inform us of your client's wishes.' 
 '"Yours, 
 
 '" CRAFT & Co.'" 
 
 " Well, that seems fair enough, Parish ; is it 
 not ? " 
 
 " I have not made up my mind. The prop- 
 erty is valuable, if recovered. But we have 
 not the money to carry on such a suit now, 
 unless I tie up your present lands too much. 
 Then so much accumulating interest eats up 
 one's income, and further, a wife rather adds to 
 our expense," said Parish, smiling. 
 
 " There will be property enough, Parish, 
 even if this be lost. So make the best arrange- 
 ment you can." 
 
 Parish went off whistling, and thinking to 
 himself how little his friend knew of the world, 
 and how grasping men were. 
 
 " Be it so ; I can't help it. It will give us 
 the use of a few thousands more. I risked 
 rather more than I should have in that con- 
 founded stock. Then they have cleaned 
 
 me out several times at the Club lately. So,
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. IO/, 
 
 by George, I must look sharp, until that little 
 wife of ours gives possession of the real estate. 
 Here goes. I will just write a letter to Craft 
 and agree, provided he will pay us some cash 
 down." 
 
 Three days later the agreement was signed. 
 Craft paid some few thousands cash, and a 
 stated sum was agreed upon, to be paid upon 
 the delivery of the title.
 
 108 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 " Whate'er he did was done with so much ease, 
 To him alone 'twas natural to please." 
 
 DRYDEN. 
 
 JHREE years passed rapidly to Edith, 
 with sorrow and joy combined. Had 
 she been told, a few months before her 
 marriage, that she would be called on to part 
 with all those who were so dear to her at that 
 time, she would have prayed to have the cross 
 taken from her, or for her Heavenly Father to 
 take her first. 
 
 " O ! blindness to the future ! kindly given, 
 That each may fill the circle marked by Heaven." 
 
 Henry's health failed a few months after 
 Edith's marriage, and he was advised to go to 
 Europe for a year. He sailed in the ill-fated 
 
 , and was never heard from. The anxiety, 
 
 and the hoping against hope, consequent upon
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 109 
 
 the failure of tidings from the vessel, then the 
 certainty of her brother's loss, so affected 
 her parents' health that they rapidly followed 
 each other to the grave. It was during these 
 trials that Edith's Christian training came to 
 her support, and kept constantly before her 
 the necessity of nerving herself to the per- 
 formance of her duty to her husband and 
 children. 
 
 " Gantly, you have a precocious youth here. 
 Just come and hear young Harry call me a 
 Moses," said Mr. Parish, laughing heartily, 
 while he tossed the little fellow in the air. " Ah! 
 but here comes the all-important member of 
 the community, in mamma's arms. There, my 
 young lord, your nose is out of joint. Go to 
 your papa. I prefer young ladies' society." 
 
 " You a Mosey," lisped Henry, running to 
 his papa. 
 
 " Mrs. Gantly, how wonderfully baby has 
 improved. But I must know her, as I am to be 
 god-father to-morrow." 
 
 " We are going to call her Lena, after 
 mamma," said Edith sadly, but with a smile 
 as she looked at the little angel in her arms.
 
 1IO ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 Parish noticed the expression, and thought of 
 the first time he saw her, a mere child- wife, in 
 his friend's home. Edith had not changed, ex- 
 cept that she had acquired a quiet thoughtful- 
 ness, which improved her beauty. 
 
 " Gantly," said Parish one evening on his 
 return from town, " I have been thinking a 
 winter in town would be beneficial to both your 
 wife and yourself. You are not looking as 
 robust as of old. You used to be on the go so 
 constantly, that this sedentary life does not 
 agree with you. Don't you think it would be 
 better to enjoy a little of the outside world, 
 Mrs. Gantly ? " 
 
 " Oh ! I hardly know, Mr. Parish. I am so 
 entirely happy here that I never think of or 
 care for any change. Then you must know 
 that I am not a mother likely to leave my chil- 
 dren to the care of servants, and court society. 
 I love them too well." 
 
 " Very true. And that very devotion to 
 your children, without some of the excitement 
 of life, will shortly affect your health. Nora 
 is so fond of you, I should consider her compe- 
 tent to oversee the nurses."
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. Ill 
 
 " She is perfectly so, doubtless. But I am so 
 happy with my little ones." 
 
 " And I think you would be equally so dur- 
 ing a little run to town. Undoubtedly you 
 would contribute much toward others' happi- 
 ness by letting them know you. Why, just 
 think of none of your husband's friends hav- 
 ing ever seen you. Of course your mourning 
 would prevent your indulging in any thing very 
 gay. But your position would certainly sur- 
 round you with the elite of society. Now let 
 me engineer this movement, Gantly. I know 
 just the thing that would suit you. Remember 
 Timpson ? Well, he has been speculating be- 
 yond his depth lately, and I lent him a few 
 thousands to help him out of his scrape. He 
 has a very fine house, elegantly furnished, and 
 almost new. Last week he told me that if he 
 could rent it for the winter, he would do so, 
 and go with his family to Europe. Now, as he 
 is under obligations to me, I can get the house 
 on my own terms. Then, again, remember 
 your wife will be of age in a few months, and 
 there will be many papers to sign, and such 
 matters, requiring her presence in town. I
 
 112 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 think you had better fall in with my plan. By 
 the way, there is your father's estate, Mrs. 
 Gantly, to be settled." 
 
 " Oh! that will be but little trouble," replied 
 Edith. " Papa's affairs were much involved, and 
 as Alice is about to marry Dr. Cutler's nephew, 
 a 'missionary to Japan, I intend to give her all 
 my share, with the exception of some stocks I 
 heard papa once say he wished kept for his 
 grandchildren. You can attend to those few 
 matters for me, can you not, Mr. Parish ? " 
 
 " Certainly, with pleasure ; but I will not give 
 up my point ; particularly as you say your 
 sister is going to leave you. That in itself is 
 another point in favor of my argument." 
 
 " But think of the trouble of keeping two 
 houses, Mr. Parish?" 
 
 " My dear Mrs. Gantly, you shall have no 
 bother. The house is perfect. I know Timp- 
 son was a wealthy and luxurious man. You 
 need only move a part of your servants, say 
 the nurses and Matthew. I will provide the 
 other servants, and have all in readiness for 
 you. Old John has taken the horses to the 
 city so often in your husband's bachelor days,
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 113 
 
 that you need not give that department a 
 thought." 
 
 " Well, I presume I must yield. I much 
 prefer remaining at home ; but your kindness 
 and willingness, as usual, to take all the trouble 
 upon yourself, leaves no excuse for a refusal." 
 
 " You are right, Edith ; and Parish has 
 opened my eyes to the fact that I have been 
 keeping you too long shut up here, my pet. 
 Be kind enough to take the house immediately, 
 Parish. 'Pon my word, old fellow, we would 
 never be able to live without you."
 
 114 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 ' L' adresse et 1'artifice out passe dans mon coeur, 
 Qu'on a sons cet habit et d'esprit et de ruse." 
 
 HIGH way, Parish ? " said a fashiona- 
 ble young man, taking his arm famil- 
 iarly, as he sauntered up the avenue. 
 
 " Good afternoon, Bob. How are you ? On 
 my way to the Club for an hour. We are en- 
 gaged out to dine, and I have nothing to do to 
 kill time." 
 
 " You seem to be killing lots of it lately with 
 that stunning wife of Gantly's. I say, you are 
 a lucky dog." 
 
 " What do you mean ? You appear to have 
 forgotten your old proverb, 'Humanum est 
 errare ! ' ' 
 
 " Mean ! Why, do you suppose we are all 
 blind at the Club ? The idea of a fellow like 
 you, who always ignored the very name of pet-
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 115 
 
 ticoat government, now to be devoted, body 
 and time, to a woman I will not say soul, for 
 I have my doubts of your having one." 
 
 " Preposterous, man ! You are well aware 
 that I have to manage all of Mr. Gantly 's 
 business, and am like one of the family. I am 
 not a man to have a penchant for a married 
 woman, especially my client's wife. Gantly 
 is not very well, and I am rather trotting them, 
 to brace him up a little." 
 
 " Splendid idea ! I wish I could get a chance 
 to brace his wife up. Call on me, if you want 
 any help. She's a regular out and outer." 
 
 " You mistake the party, Bob. Mrs. Gantly 
 is not a society woman." 
 
 " Isn't she ? Oh ! I don't take much stock 
 in pious females. There is usually a streak 
 of diablerie under their smooth counte- 
 nances." 
 
 " Bob, my knowledge of your harmlessness 
 is all that saves your head from the weight of 
 my cane." 
 
 " No offense meant, Parish. I shall not in- 
 terfere with your little game. But has she not 
 a sister to console me with ? "
 
 Il6 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 " Yes, but not in the market. She has but 
 two months since married a clergyman and 
 gone to Japan." 
 
 " By Jo ! That is sad. Well, introduce me 
 to Madame before they leave town, won't 
 you? You can trust to my not peaching 
 about your old flames." 
 
 " I'll see about it. Here we are at the Club, 
 where I must have a quiet smoke. Good-by, 
 Bob. Take care of yourself, and please remem- 
 ber. ' Honi soit qui malypense.'" 
 
 Parish was soon seated in an easy-chair, with 
 a cigar in his mouth, and, to all appearance, 
 deeply interested in a paper. But he did not 
 read. Thoughts, sometimes expressed ones, of 
 no pleasing character, ran through his brain 
 with distracting vividness. 
 
 " I have been unfaithful to my trust. And 
 how am I to remedy the evil ? I did not in- 
 tend to defraud my friend. Surely I am not to 
 blame if stocks fluctuate so. A man cannot tell 
 for one hour what he has. Then again, if I 
 had been lucky, it would have been for his 
 benefit. But those confounded debts of honor! 
 And then, again, I was fool enough to lend De
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 1 1/ 
 
 Hay five thousand, and Currie ten, and I lost 
 both. Well, never mind! By gracious I be- 
 lieve I have the dyspepsia;" and jumping up 
 from his chair, Parish walked up and down the 
 long reading-room. " I have it," cried he, 
 thrusting his hands into his side-pockets. " A 
 bright idea ! I never thought of such a thing 
 till that fool Bob put it into my head. He is 
 only a mouthpiece for the gossip of those fel- 
 lows, and if I have the name I may as well 
 have the gain. Yes, I see a way out of my 
 difficulties. Our lovely Edith seems to depend 
 on me for advice in every thing. Now, those 
 stocks her father left her are valuable, at least 
 to me at present. I will try and get control of 
 them, and then if I can carry Gantly's W. & W. 
 stocks for six months longer, I know they must 
 go up, and in that event every thing will be 
 couleur de rose. Gantly, poor fellow, does not 
 look as if he were long for these gay and fes- 
 tive scenes, and in that case And why 
 
 not ? I am distingue, at least some think so, 
 and confidence often ends in love. Turn 
 things how they may, I have got to play my 
 cards carefully, but I think I am equal to the
 
 Il8 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 emergency. Six o'clock! How the time has 
 flown ! We are invited at eight, so I must go 
 immediately, if I want to start my game to- 
 night
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 119 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 "A slippery and subtle knave ; a finder out of occasions, 
 that has an eye can stamp and counterfeit advantages." 
 
 CAME rather early, Gantly," said 
 Parish, as he entered the luxurious 
 drawing-room, so we could have a 
 few moments business talk. Our life is so 
 gay now, the moments for rational conversa- 
 tion are few." 
 
 " You are right. We have been rather 
 lively for quiet people a dinner or reception 
 every night. I wish I could get a little time for 
 the opera." 
 
 " But do you not enjoy this life ? I think 
 your wife should, from the attention she re- 
 ceives." 
 
 " Oh yes, we enjoy it ; at least Edith does, 
 and that is all I care for. I tire easily of soci- 
 ety. But what did you want to speak to me 
 about? That Craft matter is it? Now that
 
 I2O ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 Edith is of age, I suppose they want the 
 deeds." 
 
 " No. That is not it. They cannot take the 
 title yet. I do not know as you understand the 
 case correctly. You see the suit was against 
 your father's estate, and some of the property 
 was improved from which they received rents. 
 The court now holds the title for you until 
 such time as it may be decided whether you are 
 entitled to the rents from the date of your 
 father's death or not. It may be some months 
 before all is finally settled. What I wanted to 
 ask you about was some stocks and bonds 
 your wife owns ; a portion of her father's es- 
 tate. I believe the interest is due on them, 
 and if she wishes me to relieve her of the trou- 
 ble of collecting it, I will take the papers, and 
 place them with yours, in our safe at the office, 
 and she need have no trouble except receiving 
 the money, which most ladies are willing to 
 do." 
 
 " Here she comes, Parish. She is of age 
 and can speak for herself." 
 
 Edith walked up to her husband, and looking 
 up in his face in her old mischievous way,
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 121 
 
 asked : ' Have you been taking my name in 
 vain ? " 
 
 " By no means, Mrs. Gantly," said Parish. 
 " But allow me to congratulate you on your 
 charming appearance this evening, not but that 
 it is always faultless." 
 
 " You flatter me too much," answered Edith, 
 slightly blushing. " But what were you saying 
 about me as I entered ? " 
 
 ' ' Simply this, my dear : Mr. Parish was re- 
 minding me that you had some interest due on 
 your stocks. Have you collected it ? " asked 
 Mr. Gantly smiling. 
 
 " I don't wonder you laugh. I did not even 
 know that you could collect interest on stocks." 
 
 " Well, my dear, Mr. Parish kindly proposes 
 to take charge of it for you." 
 
 " Oh ! thanks. When shall I get them for 
 you ? I will go and get them now if you wish. 
 I have never even looked at them." 
 
 " Perhaps it would be as well," said Mr. Par- 
 ish ; " and then I need not trouble you in the 
 morning, as I go down town early." 
 
 Edith returned with the envelope (her in- 
 heritance). How little she realized what she 
 6
 
 122 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 was so carelessly doing! " Here they are, Mr. 
 Parish ; the seal is not even broken." 
 
 " Ah ! I see," said Parish, turning them over 
 one by one. " It will only be necessary for 
 you to sign your name. I believe there is ink 
 in the library. I will bring it to you." 
 
 During the drive to their friends' dinner- 
 party Parish seemed like one who had taken 
 opium. He hardly knew what he had done, or 
 how his plan had come so ready-made to his 
 hand. He would triumph yet. He now had 
 the means in his pocket of placing all his fool- 
 ish speculations on a firm basis.
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 123 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 1 Miss not the occasion ; by the forelock take 
 
 That subtile Power, the never-halting Time, 
 Lest a mere moment's putting-off should make 
 Mischance almost as heavy as a crime." 
 
 jOW little time I get for any thing but 
 the world," mused Edith, as she sat 
 by a bright fire in her dressing-room. 
 " What a vain show it all is. Still I like it. If 
 I allowed myself to follow my inclination I fear 
 I might give up altogether to its poisonous at- 
 mosphere, for I find my vanity is pleased with 
 attention and admiration. I must be weary of 
 this false life to-day, however, or else I am not 
 very well. There is a fearful depression about 
 my chest." 
 
 " A lady wishes to see you, ma'am." 
 
 " Who is it, Matthew ? " 
 
 " She told me to tell you, ma'am, that it was 
 Miss Rachel Van Ant-wort, as near as I can
 
 124 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 get it, ma'am. I asked for a card, please, and 
 she was quite put about, and said that she 
 didn't require tickets to get in where she visited. 
 But if I was afraid she would steal tidies or 
 h'ornaments, she would just sit in the hall. I 
 begged her pardon, and told her my memory 
 was not very good for names, and she said to 
 1 tell you it was your mother's cousin.' " 
 
 "Very well, Matthew, I'll be down presently." 
 " How strange," mused Edith, " Cousin Ra- 
 chel Van Ant-wort ! I heard mamma talk 
 about her. Perhaps Norah can tell me about 
 her. I am glad she has come ; but wonder how 
 she knew that I was here. I should have called 
 on the old lady, I presume, but I had really 
 forgotten her existence. I am particularly em- 
 barrassed. It is so hard to know what to say 
 to old ladies." 
 
 By this time Edith had reached the drawing- 
 room door, and was much inclined to laugh at 
 her visitor, whose back was toward her. She 
 was tall and thin, with a heavy shawl pinned 
 tight around her shoulders, and a bonnet re- 
 mote from the present fashion. She stood 
 gazing intently at one of the paintings. Edith
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 12$ 
 
 came forward with her characteristic ease, and 
 as she extended her hand to welcome her pre- 
 sumed cousin, the old lady took both hands, 
 raising her glasses to her forehead, and studied 
 Edith for a few moments. 
 
 " Well, you are like your mother, but rather 
 more like a doll. All that untidy hair about 
 your forehead makes a difference. I suppose 
 you never heard of me, did you ? " 
 
 " I have heard mamma speak of cousin Ra- 
 chel, and presume you must be the one. I am 
 very glad to see you. Let us go into the 
 library, it is more sociable there." 
 
 "Well, suppose we do. These chairs don't 
 look as if they were meant for use." 
 
 " I can assure you they are," answered Edith 
 sweetly. " But it is so lovely in you to come 
 and see me, that I want to make you as com- 
 fortable as possible. And besides, you must 
 see my babies. It is too cold to bring them in 
 here." 
 
 " How many children have you ? Let me 
 see now, what's your name? I remember it 
 was something fancy." 
 
 " Edith Le Roy Gantly now."
 
 126 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 " Oh, yes. And Alice was the other girl, 
 and Henry the boy. Well, your mother got a 
 queer notion for fancy names. She was chris- 
 tened Belinda ; but nothing would do but she 
 must be called Lena. Her father's name was 
 Josiah, and a good name it was, meaning 'given 
 by the Lord.' But that was not fashionable, so 
 her son must be called Henry. Well, they are 
 all gone now, and I'll be following them soon." 
 
 " I should hope not, cousin. You are look- 
 ing well. Have you not a brother ? " Edith 
 ventured to ask. She had an indistinct recol- 
 lection of hearing her mother telling some story 
 about a bachelor cousin and his sister. 
 
 " Yes ; Stephen. He is mostly the cause of 
 my coming here. You see I do not like to 
 meddle with other peoples' affairs. But Stephen 
 is so particular to do his duty in all things, that 
 he over-persuaded me. ' For,' said he, ' we are 
 the nearest relations the girl has now, and if 
 my suspicions are correct, we can warn her ; and 
 if I am mistaken, why there is no harm done.' " 
 
 " I cannot understand you, Cousin Rachel," 
 said Edith, nervously. 
 
 " But you will, though, when I have finished.
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. I2/ 
 
 Now, didn't your father leave you some of your 
 mother's bank stock, and some five hundred 
 
 shares of the D Mining Company stock, 
 
 with some others that I have forgotten the 
 name of? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Well, have you got them ? " 
 
 "Oh, yes. They have been with my hus- 
 band's papers at the office for some three 
 months." 
 
 " At what office ? I thought your husband 
 never did any business." 
 
 "That is correct. But Mr. Gantly has a 
 lawyer that attends exclusively to his affairs. 
 So the office is like his own." 
 
 " Humph ! But how do you know your 
 stocks are in the office ? " 
 
 " Because Mr. Parish told me he would at- 
 tend to them for me. I believe there was in- 
 terest to collect." 
 
 " Did you give him the power to sell or dis- 
 pose of them ? " 
 
 " Certainly not. He thought it would save 
 me the trouble, so offered to see that they 
 were properly attended to."
 
 128 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 " You misguided girl ! To save yourself a 
 little thought or trouble, you place your all in 
 the hands of another. Do you not know that 
 we must look after our own goods ? Others 
 will not carry our burdens, except for their own 
 gain. I will not ask if your husband advised 
 it, for I am told that he is more a dupe than 
 you are, and sees no wrong in this man. Now 
 I would have you know that your stocks are 
 not in that office. They have been sold some 
 weeks ago. My brother now owns them. He 
 heard that they were to be sold, and got a 
 friend to buy them from your man of law. 
 Finding every thing was entirely in this law- 
 yer's hands he was suspicious, and has since 
 been making inquiries. He hears that this Mr. 
 Parish has entire control of your husband's 
 property, and is much involved by losses on 
 the street, together with gambling debts. Now, 
 it remains for you to take this business into 
 your own hands. I have done my duty." 
 
 " But," gasped Edith, " it must be a mis- 
 take. Why, Mr. Parish is like my husband's 
 brother, and is beyond suspicion." 
 
 " I am very sorry you think so. And, in-
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 129 
 
 deed, very often we cannot trust our own 
 blood. Still, I did not want to alarm you," 
 said the old lady, her heart melting at the signs 
 of Edith's distress. " It may not be as bad as 
 they think. Keep your eyes open, and just 
 ask about that stock. I must now be getting 
 home. " 
 
 6*
 
 130 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 " The shadows lay along Broadway, 
 
 Twas near the twilight tide, 
 And slowly there a lady fair 
 Was walking in her pride. 
 Alone walked she ; but viewlessly 
 Walked spirits at her side." 
 
 N. P. WILLIS. 
 
 Knavery's plain face is never seen till used." 
 
 OTHELLO. 
 
 iDITH was too much shocked not to 
 feel relieved at her guest's departure. 
 She sat with her head bowed on her 
 hands, trying to collect her scattered thoughts. 
 Her husband had gone with a friend to a sale 
 of paintings. But even if he had been at 
 home, she would hardly have dared to tell him 
 what she had heard, as he had lately been ill ; 
 and the physician had cautioned her against 
 any sudden excitement. 
 
 " Oh ! this must be all a mistake," argued
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 131 
 
 Edith. " Why, Mr. Parish is a member of the 
 church, and he surely would not be so faithless 
 as to injure the man who has done every 
 thing for him. I am thoroughly disturbed, and 
 the only way to relieve my mind is to go right 
 to him myself, and have all cleared up. I have 
 never been down town alone, and 'tis getting 
 late ; but I think I am equal to almost any 
 emergency now, and this suspense is the worst 
 kind of agony. I will tell Norah to say I am 
 shopping, if I should be detained." 
 
 Shortly afterward Edith stepped from the 
 house, closely vailed, and entered a horse-car. 
 When she reached the end of the route, and 
 the conductor called out, " Astor House," she 
 let him assist her out, and after looking around 
 helplessly for a few moments, again turned to 
 him and asked : " Will you please tell me how 
 to get to Wall Street ? Is it up or down ? " 
 Before he could answer, a gentleman, who was 
 just entering the car, stepped toward her, and 
 said : " Will you not allow me to assist you, 
 madam ? I cannot be mistaken. This is Mrs. 
 Gantly, is it not ? " 
 
 Edith raised her eyes and recognized Mr.
 
 132 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 Scott. She had hardly seen him since her 
 marriage. 
 
 " Which way are you going, Mrs. Gantly ? " 
 
 " I want to go to Wall Street ; and, would 
 you believe it, I do not know how to get there. 
 I have never been down here except in a car- 
 riage." 
 
 " I can fully understand your dilemma ; so 
 allow me to be oarsman this time." 
 
 " Oh ! " said Edith, " how long ago that 
 seems. I had almost forgotten it," and they 
 talked gayly until they reached the office Edith 
 was in search of. 
 
 Mr. Scott left her after having seen her 
 safely within the door.* 
 
 " Why, Mrs. Gantly," said Parish. " I am 
 greatly surprised to see you here. Is there 
 any thing the matter. I hope your husband is 
 not ill." 
 
 " Oh, no," said Edith smiling. " I do not 
 wonder at your surprise. Doubtless you 
 would have been more so had you seen me 
 when I left the car. Had not a friend recog- 
 nized me I never could have found my way 
 here. I wanted to see you for a few mo-
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 133 
 
 ments, Mr. Parish, so was rash enough to come 
 down alone." 
 
 " Indeed you were rash, Mrs. Gantly. Had 
 you telegraphed, I should have gone up imme- 
 diately." 
 
 " I did not think of that, I came on the im- 
 pulse of the moment ; and now that I am here 
 I don't know how to explain myself," hesitated 
 Edith. 
 
 " Do you want any thing? Can I assist you 
 in any way ? " asked Parish, showing the deep- 
 est interest. 
 
 " Well, yes. I want the stocks I gave you. 
 They were mamma's, and I want to keep them 
 for the children." 
 
 " Certainly. But you could have asked me 
 that to-night. I am sorry you have fatigued 
 yourself so." 
 
 "I am not fatigued, but I have been consid- 
 erably worried. My cousin told me that you 
 had sold the stocks, some of them being shares 
 in her brother's bank, and I did not believe it, 
 so came to ask you myself." 
 
 Parish's blood seemed to turn green. His 
 skin certainly was of that color. In a moment
 
 134 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 he replied : " You are a wonderfully plucky 
 woman , and I am glad I have made such a 
 good investment for you. I did sell the stock, 
 and have converted the proceeds into G. and C. 
 R. R. stock, which will pay twice as much." 
 
 " But I do not want that," said Edith, getting 
 her courage up. " I must have what I gave 
 you." 
 
 " Well, if you insist," said Parish, with the 
 utmost indifference, " I will buy it back." 
 
 " How soon can I have it ? " asked Edith ; 
 "by Friday?" 
 
 " I will endeavor to indulge your whim. 
 But have you consulted your husband concern- 
 ing these matters ? " 
 
 " No," replied Edith, looking him steadily in 
 the face. " I did not wish to worry him until 
 my suspicions were confirmed." 
 
 " Suspicions, Mrs. Gantly? I do not under- 
 stand you," said Parish changing color. 
 
 " I do not consider it necessary to explain to 
 you, sir." 
 
 Parish was staggered, and for a moment 
 seemed to be dazed, and to lose his usual self- 
 possession.
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 135 
 
 " But, madam, be careful what you do. Re- 
 member where you are. You did not stop to 
 think of Mrs. Grundy when you came to my 
 office alone. Of course there was no harm in 
 it. But you know what a flame a few words 
 from me will kindle, and how readily the world 
 will talk about a beautiful woman who has a 
 husband old enough to be her father " 
 
 "Silence, sir! No words can express the 
 utter contempt I have for you, Mr. Parish," said 
 Edith, with flashing eyes. " You have a clerk. 
 Call him to accompany me to the cars ; and re- 
 member, sir, I shall expect my bonds on Fri- 
 day." 
 
 " What a fool I am," said Parish after Edith 
 had departed, " to have so lost control of my- 
 self. I might have known what the effect 
 would be with a woman like Mrs. Gantly. This 
 is a confounded mess. I never dreamt of such 
 a complication. And how am I to weather it ? 
 I would almost rather die than live to see 
 Gantly in such a position as will inevitably re- 
 sult if the market does not change. Great 
 God ! what have I done ? And those damna- 
 ble cards the cause of it all. Yet this won't do.
 
 136 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 I must keep up my pluck, and perhaps the 
 Fates may change in my favor. I will just go 
 there as if nothing had happened. I doubt if 
 she dare tell him. Something may turn up 
 yet." And so this conscience-stricken, sinning 
 man tried to deceive himself as to the actual 
 condition of affairs, while every hour was add- 
 ing to the ruin he had heaped up for his trust- 
 ing friend by his mammon worship. " The 
 love of money is the root of all evil. Those 
 coveting after it err from the faith and pierce 
 themselves through with many sorrows." 
 
 A few hours later Parish walked into Mr. 
 Gantly's library. Edith was seated by the fire 
 with little Lena on her lap. Mr. Gantly rose 
 from the seat where he had been guiding Hen- 
 ry's pencil during an attempt to draw mamma's 
 picture, and welcomed Parish as cordially as 
 ever. Edith bowed and clasped her little girl 
 tightly in her arms, as if the Erl King had 
 entered. She was suffering from a headache 
 caused by the excitement of the afternoon. 
 
 " I have had a delightful day, Parish. An old 
 friend, Bob Clark, came for me to go to the 
 private exhibition of Pierson's gallery. You
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 137 
 
 know it is to be sold. A sad business, is it not ? 
 Do you know the cause of it ? " 
 
 " Not exactly. I believe a depreciation in 
 stocks," said Parish, slightly embarrassed. 
 " Clark says he has lost every thing." 
 
 " Can it be possible for a man with so much 
 property to lose all ? " 
 
 " Certainly it is possible if a man is not post- 
 ed. And it requires a large cash margin when 
 one has real estate to carry." 
 
 " It is sad for his family. I understand his 
 daughters are teaching. Why, Edith, how pale 
 you are ! " said Mr. Gantly going to her. 
 
 " The room is very warm, and if you will take 
 Lena to Norah, I will retire. Excuse me, Mr. 
 Parish." 
 
 Poor Edith ! Her heart was too full to sleep. 
 She felt that for her a storm was impending, 
 and that she must nerve herself to meet it 
 bravely. She had felt, at the time of her pa- 
 rents' death, that no suffering could be equal to 
 such separations. She was then consoled and 
 comforted by her husband's love and sympathy. 
 But now this mental agony seemed more than 
 human nature could bear, for she saw all the
 
 138 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 distress that was coming to her husband. She 
 reasoned with herself, and realized how little 
 thought she had given to the worldly bless- 
 ings bestowed upon her. When she had prayed 
 for strehgth to meet the emergency boldly, she 
 rose from" her knees strengthened in mind and 
 firmly satisfied that it was her duty to repre- 
 sent the matter to her husband without further 
 delay, and, by meeting it cheerfully, be his help- 
 mate in adversity as well as in prosperity.
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 139 
 
 ' 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 XV 1 1. 
 
 " Things without all remedy 
 Should be without regard. What's done is done. 
 
 MACBETH 
 
 OW came you to give this paper t 
 Mr. Craft? Did you fully under- 
 stand the conditions required ? " 
 
 " I am fully aware you will shake your head at 
 such an unbusiness-like transaction, Mr. Bliss ; 
 but I confess I did not understand them. I al- 
 ways relied on Parish's judgment. He advised 
 my signing. I did so, and of course will hold to 
 my agreement." 
 
 "Then it must be attended to immediately, 
 as I find a clause in it requiring your wife's 
 signature before the expiration of six months 
 after she attains her majority, or you forfeit the 
 paltry purchase-money. I must say that it is 
 the most outrageous document I ever read. Do 
 you not think that Parish had an interest in the 
 agreement ? "
 
 140 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 " It is impossible for me to judge. I have 
 faith in all human nature. I can see that the 
 world will censure me, but no one can appreci- 
 ate the friendship there was between us. We 
 were more than brothers ; I trusted every thing 
 to him." 
 
 " But did you sign these papers and deeds 
 without reading them ? " 
 
 " Certainly. I should much sooner have sub- 
 jected some paper of my own composition to a 
 thorough scrutiny to see if I had cheated my- 
 self, than to have suspected him. He was my 
 constant companion, a churchman, and is god- 
 father to my child." 
 
 " Oh ! that cloak of Christianity ; how many 
 widows' portions it has devoured. I have 
 known men like Mr. Parish go to church daily, 
 and pass the alms-plate, and yet take that same 
 money and speculate with it ; some few, doubt- 
 less, have been able to cover their fraud, but 
 there are others, who, by using their trust- 
 worthy positions in the church as a bait, have 
 brought the most abject poverty on whole fami- 
 lies, while they themselves revel in luxury in 
 foreign lands,"
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 14! 
 
 "It will be hard to make me believe this step 
 premeditated," replied Mr. Gantly. " He must 
 have been roped in by these gambling stock- 
 exchange brokers." 
 
 " You must not be too severe, Mr. Gantly. 
 The stock business, if done legitimately, is as 
 honorable as any other." 
 
 " Do you call it an honorable business where 
 men combine to break down the credit of wor- 
 thy corporations, conspire to give a fictitious 
 value to that which is valueless, and make it 
 their aim to cheat each other and swindle the 
 world ? Is that legitimate ? I can see no dif- 
 ference between a professional gambler in stocks 
 and any other gambler." 
 
 " Taking the middle view of things, Mr. Par- 
 ish showed great want of judgment in changing 
 such securities as yours were, and mortgaging 
 your real estate. He was not in the ' ring,' and 
 had to employ a broker to keep himself posted. 
 The fluctuations have been so great lately that 
 in an hour a man might be utterly ruined." 
 
 " That goes to confirm what I said. Its very 
 basis is gambling. See the temptation it holds 
 out to those greedy for wealth. The whole na-
 
 142 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 tion will yet be thrown into a state of panic by 
 these ' bulls and bears.' The greatest blessing 
 that could befall our country would be the shut- 
 ting up of this legal gambling shop. It would 
 indeed be better, if these men insist on follow- 
 ing such a pursuit, to let them do so in private, 
 where they use a thicker kind of paper and 
 have but four knaves in the pack." 
 
 " Your argument is a strong one, but I fear 
 that it is too late for you to profit by it. This 
 striving to get rich suddenly is making our 
 whole country unstable. Instead of being sat- 
 isfied with an honest return for our labor, we 
 try to shirk our work, and want a hundred 
 times more than it is worth." 
 
 " Ah ! that shirking work is the root of the 
 evil. I shirked my work and placed the tempta- 
 tion in Parish's hands. It is an old saying that 
 inherited wealth, instead of prompting to further 
 acquisition, is ' a title-deed to sloth.'" 
 
 "Very true, my friend ; and how many men 
 begin their fortunes where their fathers leave 
 off, and leave off where their fathers began." 
 
 " That, I imagine, Mr. Bliss, is my position. 
 So I must put my shoulder to the wheel, and
 
 .ALL ABOUT EDITH. 143 
 
 gather up the fragments. I would like you to 
 make a thorough investigation, so that I may 
 see how I stand. As Parish has the deeds for 
 all the property it will be necessary to bring 
 a suit for recovery."
 
 144 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 " Deceit is the strong but subtle chain which runs through 
 all the members of a society, and links them together ; trick, 
 or be tricked, is the alternative ; 'tis the way of the world, and 
 without it intercourse would drop." ANONYMOUS, 1722. 
 
 UNE was rapidly passing away, the 
 season had been unusually warm, and 
 people were getting languid and de- 
 serting the metropolis. Mr. Gantly had re- 
 turned to the manor early in May, and immedi- 
 ately after had brought a suit against Parish to 
 recover his property. Parish had thrown him- 
 self with the most perfect recklessness into the 
 maelstrom of dissipation and fashionable life. 
 
 We find him dining at the Club one hot 
 afternoon not an unusual occurrence but the 
 hour was early for him. He was moodily read- 
 ing a paper, while the solitary servant moved 
 silently about the large deserted dining-room. 
 He several times raised his eyes and looked
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 145 
 
 anxiously toward the door, as if anticipating 
 the arrival of a companion, then moved his 
 chair impatiently and stroked his long silky 
 mustache. Then with an arrogant and impa- 
 tient manner he called to the servant to look 
 into the reading-room and see if Mr. Gordon 
 had not arrived. 
 
 " He is just entering the room, sir," was the 
 unexpected reply. 
 
 Parish looking up quickly, met the sharp 
 glance of his expected friend. The entering 
 stranger was a tall, handsome man, with bold 
 features, rather prominent nose, keen black 
 eyes, while his fine receding forehead spoke of 
 the intellect his silver locks covered. His man- 
 ner was most gentlemanly and prepossessing. 
 
 " I am amazingly punctual, am I not ? Please 
 don't look so glum about it, or I shall think 
 this oppressive heat has soured you. I must 
 say I never felt any thing to equal it in August. 
 This is the kind of weather I imagine Sydney 
 Smith experienced when he wished he could 
 take off his skin and sit in his bones." 
 
 " I wish you had considered my very proper 
 annoyance, such an infernally hot day, sitting 
 7
 
 146 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 here fanning for an hour. I asked you to dine 
 at five, and now it is after six." 
 
 " Really, I am very sorry," said Mr. Gordon 
 apologetically ; " but it was unavoidable. I 
 started in time, but the Fates were against me, 
 in the shape of a fair woman. As I came up 
 the avenue I met that charming widow, Mrs. 
 Johnson, and she prevailed on me to take a 
 short drive. Does it need any further explana- 
 tion? The time passed without reckoning." 
 
 " Oh ! I can readily excuse you," said Parish, 
 looking knowingly at his friend, " if any wo- 
 man was in the case, aware as I am of your 
 penchant for the fair sex. Then again, Mrs. 
 Johnson is one in a thousand for making a fel- 
 low forget every thing but her fascinating self. 
 Have some claret, it will cool you off." 
 
 " Thank you, yes. But I do not call the 
 widow particularly handsome ; still she is pretty, 
 and has the most charming, confiding manner. 
 I was intimate with her before we had driven 
 ten squares. It was so refreshing this hot day ; 
 to meet a woman who will take all the trouble 
 of entertaining into her own hands. She told 
 me all her petty annoyances, how lonely she
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 147 
 
 was, and eulogized the merits of her dear de- 
 parted. Do you think she could find a substi- 
 tute? By the bye, she seems to know you 
 pretty well." 
 
 " Probably. But did she volunteer any infor- 
 mation ? " 
 
 " Not any. She seemed seeking for facts; 
 perhaps to fill in a census report. Her inqui- 
 ries were sufficiently minute. At last I ex- 
 pected she was on the point of asking how 
 many cigars you smoked, when she astounded 
 me by asking if you were engaged." 
 
 " And you answered with your characteristic 
 tact 
 
 " That I knew nothing about your affaires 
 de cceur, but doubted if one so lovely as her- 
 self could have a rival in any man's heart." 
 
 " The devil you did ! That is heaping coals 
 on the fire. Had you kept your appointment 
 you could have given her the information she 
 was seeking. I am engaged to Miss Eckford." 
 
 " Parbleu ! Parish, are you joking ? " asked 
 Mr. Gordon, looking keenly at his friend. 
 
 " Not at all. It is an uncomfortable fact,'' 
 answered Parish, sipping his claret with a
 
 148 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 slight sneer on his lip, " and partly the cause 
 of my requesting this interview ; and quite as 
 unexpected to me as to yourself. You know 
 she is wealthy. The property is in her own 
 name. Her mother is delicate, and her uncle 
 cannot prevent her following her inclinations. 
 So, seeing a chance of getting out of my pres- 
 ent embarrassment, I made up my mind to 
 throw romance to the wind and make a suc- 
 cessful business transaction." 
 
 " I suppose I must congratulate you. But 
 how many hearts you will jeopardize ! What 
 is she like ? " 
 
 " Not particularly pretty. She seems clever 
 without being intellectual ; amiable, not in an 
 angelic sense ; high-strung, without showing 
 the vixen. She suits me about as well as any 
 woman I ever met. Don't smile so incredu- 
 lously." 
 
 " You do put it in an odd light Has the 
 pretty widow any thing to do with your de- 
 pression ? " 
 
 " I can tell you, Gordon, this is no jesting 
 matter ; and unless I look sharp, I shall lose 
 my game. Tis the devil's own luck that put
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 149 
 
 it into my power to get this girl, and that Bob 
 Clark, with his saintly spite, may upset it all." 
 
 "I cannot see what he has to do with it," 
 said Gordon seriously. 
 
 "Just this much : he is in love with my 
 fiancee, and he knows of a little flirtation Mrs. 
 Johnson and I had while in Europe. He is 
 also cognizant of some of these infernal affairs 
 of Gantly's, and is trying his best to turn the 
 tide against me. Unless I can get the panacea 
 to all society prejudices money into my hands 
 before this case comes on, I shall be beaten." 
 
 " I declare you look at it in an unpleasant 
 light. I supposed you felt confident of success 
 against Gantly. You have not given me the 
 papers ; but I judged from your representation 
 of the facts it was almost a certainty. What 
 are to be your present movements ? " 
 
 " Movements ? I am not allowed a voice 
 in the matter. Horrors! I had rather be in 
 prison than pinioned as I am. I have not 
 been engaged a week yet, and already the 
 mother of my prize thinks it best to go gala- 
 vanting off to Saratoga with her interesting 
 daughter, inasmuch as it is her last season in
 
 150 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 society. I sincerely trust it may be her first 
 and last in mine also.'' 
 
 " Don't take it so to heart, Parish. True 
 love never runs smooth. The widow will come 
 out ahead yet." 
 
 " Stuff! What do I care for love, except to 
 pass the time ? " said Parish, filling his glass 
 again, and drinking the wine off. " The idea 
 of my going to Saratoga, of all places on the 
 face of the earth. Every one will be there, 
 and I am fearfully short. And then, if some 
 of my kind friends wished to break up my 
 little arrangement, see how easily they could 
 do it. I propose to lie around in the country 
 all summer, and be married in the falL You 
 could easily delay this law matter from month 
 to month until I had my game under cover." 
 
 "Really, Parish, this is an ugly business," 
 said Gordon emphatically, " and I would ad- 
 vise you not to place yourself in such a false 
 position. The whole thing will sooner or later 
 come out, and it wfll lay you open to more 
 serious charges of dishonor." 
 
 " It is not going to come out," replied Par- 
 ish. " I am going to let it have its course.
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 15 1 
 
 But it's frightfully hot here. Take another 
 glass of wine, and we will go out and have a 
 walk. The night air may be a little cooler. 
 Have you any other engagement ? " 
 
 " No ; and it certainly is stifling here. We 
 can arrange a few matters as we stroll up the 
 avenue. When do you go ? " 
 
 " To-morrow ; and I'd rather be hung." 
 
 " I doubt that. We will be surprised some 
 fine morning to hear that you have run off with 
 the widow. She took too much interest in 
 your affairs to let you out of her clutches easily. 
 I give you a week before she joins you." 
 
 " By Jove ! If she does, it will be a sorry 
 day for her. But come along. I suppose when 
 the time comes I must face the music."
 
 1 52 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 "Wealth is the Conjurer's Devil, 
 Whom, when he thinks he hath, the Devil hath him" 
 
 ARATOGA was overflowing with its 
 summer fullness. The streets were 
 rendered almost impassable by the re- 
 tinue of broadcloth, false hair, and muslin that 
 thronged them. The season had reached its 
 culminating point Everybody complained of 
 the heat, crush, and discomfort, Yet still rein- 
 forcements came pouring in. Legion seemed 
 their name. Every nook and corner in the 
 mammoth hotel seemed filled. The piazzas 
 were thronged with dignified matrons and calm 
 old gentlemen fanning themselves, and occa- 
 sionally strolling off for a glass of spring water, 
 unconsciously laboring to convince themselves 
 that they were having a charming recreation 
 out of reach of the stifling heat of the metropo- 
 lis. Thus poor deluded worshipers at the
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 153 
 
 shrine of fashion, will reason against their own 
 common sense, that three weeks spent at Sara- 
 toga is more beneficial than a summer in some 
 cool reteat without the allurements of a pro- 
 miscuous society. At one end of the long 
 piazza of the United States Miss Eckford was 
 earnestly consulting with her mother. 
 
 " I am so tired of this watering-place life. A 
 little quiet would be a relief. Can we not go 
 back to our dear did house, and spend the re- 
 mainder of the summer under our own roof, 
 dear mother? " 
 
 " Certainly, my dear, if it will add to your 
 happiness. Why this ennui ? You ^have al- 
 ways been so fond of society, and I am sure 
 you seemed to enjoy every moment of the ball 
 last evening." 
 
 " Very true, mamma ; but since my engage- 
 ment I find it rather tiresome to enter into the 
 gossip and flirtation of gay life. Then, again, 
 Mr. Parish really seems tired and not well. I 
 barely suggested a return last evening, and he 
 seemed instantly to grasp at the idea. Now if it 
 be annoying to him to remain here, had we not 
 better return ? I have been strangely depressed 
 7*
 
 154 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 lately, do you know ? At times I think I have 
 some one else's share of happiness besides my 
 own ; and it has- filled my mind with the idea 
 that some trouble must be in store for me. I 
 have had such a bright life ; not even a shade 
 of anxiety." 
 
 " You are very wrong to allow such thoughts, 
 my child, and the sooner you dismiss these 
 fancies the better. I fear that you are not well, 
 and perhaps it would be best to return to our 
 home. Your time will be fully occupied with 
 your trousseau the remainder of the season." 
 
 Miss Eckford here cut short the conversation 
 by eagerly catching a lady by the arm as she 
 was passing. 
 
 " How glad I am to see you, Mrs. Johnson. 
 When did you come ? " 
 
 " Why, Laura, this is a charming surprise," 
 exclaimed Mrs. Johnson. Then turning to a 
 young man in the crowd, " Mr. Clark, are we 
 not lucky ? Here are all the Eckfords." 
 
 " How refreshing it is to meet some one that 
 looks as deliciously cool as you do, Miss Eck- 
 ford, during this intolerable weather," said Mr. 
 Clark, with marked admiration. " Had I been
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 155 
 
 given the use of a wishing cap, I could not have 
 desired any thing more pleasing than this meet- 
 ing. What an exquisite bunch of roses you are 
 favored with ! " 
 
 "Are they not lovely? I am so extrava- 
 gantly fond of flowers ! Mr. Parish humors my 
 taste by sending me just such a bunch every 
 morning before we breakfast. This is the 
 Glorie Dijon, I need hardly tell you. Every 
 ., one is so fond of that matchless rose." 
 
 " I confess that I know nothing about the 
 names of flowers. 'The rose by any other 
 name would smell as sweet,' " said Mr. Clark, 
 with decided harshness. " Mr. Parish is doubt- 
 less familiar with all " 
 
 Here his remark was cut short by Mrs. John- 
 son. She had been retailing the last piece of 
 gossip to Mrs. Eckford, and now, turning to 
 Laura, asked why her fiance was not on duty. 
 
 " I think I see him coming. Let me attract 
 his attention. How are you this morning, 
 John. I have such a pleasant surprise for you. 
 Mrs. Johnson and Mr. Clark have just joined 
 us." 
 
 " Any thing but pleasant, my dear Laura. A
 
 156 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 decided infliction in my opinion," said Parish, 
 frowning and flushing impatiently. ' If there be 
 one thing distasteful to me it is a fast woman." 
 . " Do you really think Mrs. Johnson is ? " 
 
 " Is beautiful ? Ah ! distractingly so, Miss 
 Eckford," said Clark, joining them. " Mr. Par- 
 ish thought so a few months since. But how 
 are you, Parish ? I declare you look played out. 
 And no wonder, if this is the time of day you 
 breakfast. It is going on to twelve o'clock." 
 
 " One is not obliged to feed the moment one 
 gets up," answered Parish, visibly annoyed. 
 
 " Ah ! Then I suppose you rise with the lark, 
 take a constitutional, drink spring water, and, 
 may I suggest, brandy and soda occasionally, 
 all before breakfast." 
 
 "Am I not to have any recognition, Mr. Par- 
 ish ?" asked Mrs. Johnson, with a smile, extend- 
 ing her delicately gloved hand, and opening her 
 large blue eyes to their fullest extent. 
 
 " I beg ten thousand pardons, Mrs. Johnson, 
 but the fault is due to the throng here. I have 
 been making my way as fast as possible to- 
 ward the center of attraction, but it is difficult 
 to approach."
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 157 
 
 "You seem not to have lost the power of 
 flattery, I see, Mr. Parish. I hardly think you 
 deserve, forgiveness. When a man neglects his 
 old friends, as you have done, he deserves to be 
 punished. I cannot even allow that an engage- 
 ment is an excuse for every such act." 
 
 " You do not look upon it with the eyes the 
 world does. Unless you are greatly changed, 
 however, I think I can depend upon generous 
 treatment from one who has always been my 
 beau ideal of perfection," said Parish, exchang- 
 ing a look of tenderness, which seemed to be 
 echoed back from her as she answered : 
 
 "Time may heal the wound, but at present 
 you are hopelessly out of my good graces. I 
 cannot endure neglect, and I purposely avoid 
 arguing with engaged men. They are of all 
 men the most stupid." 
 
 " Mrs. Johnson, I must protest against tete-a- 
 tetes. Our party is too small," said Miss Eck- 
 ford ; " and I am impatient to tell you all that 
 my mother has consented to go to our lovely 
 home for the remainder of the summer." 
 
 " Oh ! how charming ! " cried Mrs. Johnson. 
 " It is a perfect relief to my mind. I am invited
 
 158 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 * 
 
 to visit some old cousins near there, and I was 
 dreading the thoughts of being obliged to spend 
 two weeks in such a deserted place. They tell 
 me there is not even a divinity student to flirt 
 with. Only imagine poor me shut up with those 
 old maids. It would give me so much time to 
 think over my sins of omission and commission 
 that I should more than likely go in search of 
 my first love and try to heal his broken heart." 
 
 " I fear it would carry you back so many 
 years, Mrs. Johnson, your memory would fail 
 you, and so the right man might not get his 
 reward," said Mr. Clark, laughing. 
 
 " Your gallantry is only excusable by your 
 years, Mr. Clark. Have you not a place in that 
 neighborhood, Mr. Parish?" asked Mrs. Johnson. 
 
 " I believe I am not so fortunate, Mrs. John- 
 son." 
 
 " That is a good joke, Parish. You mean you 
 do not play for such small game. How soon 
 will you take possession of Gantly Manor ? You 
 have fleeced the owner out of every thing else." 
 
 Parish turned quickly, and with flashing eyes 
 confronted Mr. Clark. " How dare you make 
 such an accusation, and in the presence of
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 159 
 
 ladies? It but more fully reveals your cow- 
 ardly propensities." 
 
 " I only spoke the truth," returned Clark, 
 " which your conscience, if you have any, must 
 echo back; and consider it no disrespect to 
 the ladies to expose a man who will by delib- 
 erate fraud possess himself of his confidential 
 friend's property. Such an one has forfeited 
 every characteristic of a man of honor, and de- 
 serves to be branded for what he is. Think 
 you these crimes will go forever unpunished ? 
 Can you suppose there will be no retributive 
 vengeance ? " 
 
 " You shall give satisfaction for this," almost 
 gasped Parish, gnashing his teeth. " Mrs. Eck- 
 ford, allow me to escort yourself and daugh- 
 ter to the drawing-room," 
 
 Stepping forward to offer his arm, he fell 
 forward to the ground. Mr. Clark hesitated 
 for a moment with a scornful smile on his lip, 
 waiting for Mr. Parish to arise, presuming he 
 had made a false step. But as he remained 
 motionless, he stepped to his side and immedi- 
 ately exclaimed, " Help ! Water ! quick ! He 
 has fainted."
 
 160 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 In an instant the excitement was intense. 
 Mrs. Johnson, in the most tragical manner, 
 grasped the first man near her, declaring her- 
 self fainting and frightened to death, while in 
 reality she was congratulating herself on the 
 exquisite attitude she had thrown herself into. 
 Laura, greatly alarmed, leaned over her fiance, 
 and endeavored to assist in restoring him. In 
 less time than it takes to describe it, a physi- 
 cian was at his side, and after a few moments 
 quietly informed Mr. Clark that the gentleman 
 was dead.
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. l6l 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 "When tasks of life thy spirit fill, 
 
 Risen from thy tears and dust, 
 Then be the self-renouncing will 
 The seal of thy calm trust." 
 
 LYRA APOSTOLICA. 
 
 WO years had passed since the tragic 
 events of the preceding chapter had 
 astounded and shocked the fashionable 
 world. The electric message that carried the 
 announcement to Gantly manor was like a mes- 
 senger of death to its beloved master. Mr. 
 Gantly never recovered from the shock. The 
 duplicity of his friend, combined with the loss 
 of property, had shattered his nervous system. 
 He reproached himself constantly for trusting 
 to another what he should have guarded for his 
 wife and children. His death did not come on 
 Edith suddenly. From the time that Parish's 
 villainy had become apparent, she had seen it 
 was an inevitable fate. She never fastened
 
 1 62 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 any hope on his recovery ; for she could see 
 him, with her unselfish watchfulness, impercep- 
 tibly passing into another world. Her entire 
 forgetfulness of self gave her no time to real- 
 ize her own feelings. Her trials seemed to 
 glorify her. She always wore a smile when in 
 his presence, and comforted him with her Chris- 
 tian guidance. When can we say death is not 
 sudden, even death the most lingering ? Those 
 who watch the fleeting breath are ever startled 
 by Azrael's dark countenance, however ex- 
 pected he may be. 
 
 Dr. Cutler was Edith's only comfort. She 
 clung to him as her last earthly stay. And had 
 it not been for his cheerful support, she would 
 have prayed to pass from this life of trouble and 
 sorrow. The sad minutiae of the funeral de- 
 tails, the necessary household changes, and in- 
 numerable orders to be given at such a time, 
 Edith attended to with minutest accuracy, al- 
 though she was like the phantom of her former 
 self. 
 
 Six months passed wearily on. Edith was 
 occupied with the care of her children and 
 home. She knew but little about the details of
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 163 
 
 business, but tried to give orders when and 
 where required. The lawyers, who had taken 
 care of the suit against Mr. Parish's estate, 
 communicated with her from time to time, but 
 had been unable to make any satisfactory ar- 
 rangements with the opposing side. 
 
 " Mamma, here's a letter. Dr. Cutler 
 brought it from the post. He is playing with 
 Lena, and sent me in to tell you he would be 
 in presently," said Henry, kissing his mamma 
 and running out to join in the frolic with his 
 old friend. 
 
 Edith opened her letter languidly. She did 
 not receive many, and those not joyous ones. 
 As she followed the lines down, her counten- 
 ance visibly changed to a deadly white. Cover- 
 ing her face with her hands, she buried her 
 head in the sofa pillow and sobbed like a child. 
 Dr. Cutler found her, a few moments after, in 
 this condition. 
 
 "Why, I am surprised to see you so dis- 
 tressed, my dear Mrs. Gantly. Have I been 
 the unconscious bearer of sad news ? " 
 
 Edith handed him the crushed letter, which 
 he read.
 
 164 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 " MRS. GANTLY : Dear Madam, For some 
 months we have been endeavoring to get your 
 suit against Mr. Parish's heirs in proper shape 
 to be able to judge what would be the result. 
 We have at last found he has deeds for all the 
 property, and that he has mortgaged the same 
 to the fullest extent. We also find the manor 
 is mortgaged for fully its value, and the inter- 
 est is unpaid since Parish's death. It will be 
 necessary to sell the place to meet the incum- 
 brance. We advise closing the Parish suit, as 
 nothing could be reclaimed, and it is only in- 
 volving you more and more every day. The 
 party holding the mortgage has threatened to 
 foreclose it. Write us your wishes. 
 " Respectfully yours, 
 
 "BLiss & CLARK." 
 
 " This is very sad news, and I sincerely sym- 
 pathize with you. But you must not allow it to 
 distress you so, for it will unfit you to meet 
 the emergency." 
 
 " I cannot bear it, Dr. Cutler. Why doesn't 
 God let me die ? " 
 
 " You are sadly unnerved, my child. Where
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 165 
 
 is your faith? Are you rebelling against God 
 Almighty ? Does he not tell you, ' As many as 
 I love, I rebuke and chasten ! ' ' Whom the 
 Lord loveth he chasteneth ! ' If you are a dis- 
 ciple of Christ, you must take up your cross 
 daily and suffer the burden, for only through 
 much tribulation can we enter the kingdom of 
 God." 
 
 " It is not God I rebel against. I can patient- 
 ly bear His afflictions," exclaimed Edith, with 
 the most heartrending sob. But this wicked, 
 wicked man ! To have killed my husband, and 
 now to beggar my children ! Oh ! it is more 
 than I can bear." 
 
 " You say you do not rebel against God, 
 and yet you cry out that you cannot bear your 
 cross. You would measure the amount of your 
 affliction only by surrendering your mind, body, 
 and estate to the sovereign Disposer of all 
 events. Can you prove your humility to Him, 
 and in the deepest sense of your soul, say, 
 'Thy will, O God, be done with me, with 
 mine ? ' God's mercy is incomprehensible. He 
 worketh out His ways, not ours. We are not 
 to pass judgment on our brothers' souls, but
 
 166 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 live for the happiness of the living. ' Let the 
 dead past bury its dead.' " 
 
 " But what can I do ? My chance of useful- 
 ness in the world is taken from me. I cannot 
 give help. Even my own children how can I 
 provide for them ? " 
 
 " Does not God promise that every fatherless 
 soul shall be under His protection? Does He 
 not give his angels charge concerning us ? The 
 world may forsake us ; friends, the most tried 
 and trusted, desert us. Human love may seem 
 a mockery and a dream ; but the love of the 
 blessed angels never tires, never faints. They 
 guard our life ; they brighten our joys ; share 
 our sorrows, and at last bear us through the 
 4 open door ' into the presence of God, ' from 
 whom all holy desires, all good councils, and all 
 just works do proceed.' But you must guard 
 against the angels of darkness, who are con- 
 tinually striving against your angel of light." 
 
 " I have endeavored to do my duty, and re- 
 member your advice and consolation, Doctor. 
 But at each step I take toward resignation I 
 am met by a fresh burden more heavy than the 
 last."
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. l6/ 
 
 " And you look back on those that are past 
 as light in comparison. And so it will continue 
 to the faithful unto the end. We are suffering 
 for Christ's sake. He is our ' Christus Consola- 
 tor/ and we must rejoice if we are singled 
 out to suffer and labor for Him. We may be- 
 come sympathizing ministers of consolation at 
 our very doors. You will find opportunities 
 enough of doing good. There are children to 
 be brought to baptism ; the sick to be visited ; 
 ignorance to be enlightened. Seek opportunities 
 for kind words, charitable deeds, pious councils, 
 soothing sympathies, and fervent prayers. All 
 these may be accomplished without wealth, 
 and in all there is a chance for work and self- 
 denial. By being brought face to face with the 
 more heartrending trials of our fellow- workers, 
 we are strengthened for our own. ' Thus hath 
 the mystery of suffering a partial solution even 
 here. You suffer not always for your own sins, 
 not always as a chastisement and correction. 
 But you suffer with Christ, that like him you 
 may be able to succor those who are in any 
 trouble, sorrow, need, sickness, or any other 
 adversity.'
 
 l68 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 " ' For sorrow, like that darkest hour. 
 
 That just precedes the day, 
 Is only sent to fit our hearts 
 For joy's unclouded ray ! * " 
 
 "Thank you, Dr. Cutler. You have really 
 made me happy again." said Edith, a sad smile 
 shining through her tears. " I did wish at firs* 
 to die, and so be freed from my load. I felt 
 wicked and rebellious, but my good angel has 
 triumphed. The victory is won, and I feel a 
 new life flowing through my veins. But how 
 can I keep down my rebellious spirit ? " 
 
 " By fulfilling the duties God has placed in 
 your hands ; by clinging to your faith. It has 
 been beautifully observed : When the heart, 
 which has been away on a journey, suddenly, 
 at midnight (i. e. t the time of greatest darkness 
 and distress) returns home to us (that is, comes 
 to itself and feels hunger), and we have nothing 
 wherewith to satisfy it, God requires of us bold, 
 importunate faith.' We must pray unceasingly 
 for that faith, Our Father which art in Heaven ; ' 
 that exquisite brevity. It is indeed what the 
 Fathers have called it, a ' Brevarium Evangelii,' 
 the pearl of prayers. You remember, in the
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 169 
 
 Pilgrim's Progress, when Christian was in the 
 Valley of the Shadow of Death, and was so 
 sorely tried with the mire on one side, the ditch 
 on the other, and the flames and the smoke ; 
 while the hideous voice made him imagine that 
 a company were coming to meet him, he put up 
 his sword and betook himself another weapon 
 called All-prayer. Then he heard, as it were, a 
 man going before him, saying, ' Though I walk 
 through the Valley of the Shadow of Death I 
 will fear no evil, for thou art with me.' But I 
 hear the first bell for evening service. Let us 
 call the children, and we will have time to walk 
 down. While you put on your bonnet I will 
 tell Matthew to come for you." 
 
 8
 
 I/O ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 " Then, breaking into tears, 'Dear God," she cried, 'and 
 
 must we see 
 
 All blissful things depart from us, or ere we go to Thee ? ' " 
 
 E. B. BROWNING. 
 
 ES ; bear it I must and will," ex- 
 claimed Edith, as she lifted her head 
 from her arm, where she had been 
 " But oh ! how hard it is to forgive 
 our enemies and persecutors, when they have 
 taken all from us, left our homes desolated, and 
 snatched our children's inheritance from them. 
 Can I bear the full force of this sorrow, wel- 
 come every thing that is in store for me, and, 
 like Sintram, conquer my doom ? But now, 
 can I leave my home, never to return? the 
 place I loved so dearly ; my husband's pride ; 
 the beautiful home he brought me to. Oh 
 God ! my troubles are more than I can bear ; " 
 and, wringing her hands, Edith threw herself
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. I/I 
 
 down upon a chair. For a few moments de- 
 spair seemed to overwhelm her ; but recovering 
 herself she remembered her resolution and her 
 children's dependency; and her guardian angel 
 pleaded for them. " My noble boy ! I must 
 be brave for him. Change of scene will be 
 best of all." 
 
 Ambition for her children fortunately forced 
 her to face the future. That very night she 
 laid her plans according to the emergency of 
 the case, with a caution and foresight worthy of 
 a mature head. Not only had she now to bear 
 but to act ; and before the late hour at which 
 she fell asleep, the first step in her line of ac- 
 tion was determined. She must find a new 
 home. New scenes and new faces would en- 
 able her to forget the past. She promised Dr. 
 Cutler to be hopeful and trusting in God's love 
 and support, and to try and say from her heart, 
 " Thy will be done." 
 
 That evening she was more cheerful than 
 usual, reading and amusing the children. She 
 was not the " Sunshine," of Airsley, whom we 
 first knew. She was bright and joyous with 
 her little ones, but there was a serene melan-
 
 172 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 choly and thoughtful dreamy look, as if her 
 thoughts were afar off at times. It was after 
 Nora had taken the children, and she stood 
 alone before the fire in the large luxurious li- 
 brary, where she had passed so many happy 
 hours, that the full force of her solitude and be- 
 reavement came upon her. How different the 
 room looked, which had once been her ideal of 
 cheerfulness ! The organ and book-cases, with 
 the heavy carved furniture, and dark red drap- 
 ery of the deep windows seemed to absorb the 
 light of the lamp, and send out ghosts and 
 phantoms of her former life. 
 
 $*< ; 
 " Gales from Heaven, if so He will, 
 
 Sweeter melodies may wake 
 On the lonely mountain rill, 
 
 Than the meeting waters make. 
 Who hath the Father and the Son, 
 May be left, but not alone." 
 
 So murmured Edith as she fell asleep. 
 
 Morning failed to bring comfort. Edith 
 awoke with the feeling of something having 
 happened, or being about to happen. It is im- 
 possible to define closely the sensation of a new
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 173 
 
 life opening before us, and the old one being 
 left to oblivion. It is akin to that kind of feel- 
 ing one has on the morning of a marriage or 
 funeral. She rose with a weary calmness and a 
 shrinking from the inevitable. Her task was a 
 hard one ; and when little Lena nestled up for 
 her morning kiss, she could scarcely check the 
 tears. But childish prattle soon dispelled the 
 cloud, and a few hours later, when Dr. Cutler 
 called, she, with the most perfect calmness, 
 placed her plans before him. 
 
 " But, my dear child," said the old Doctor 
 perceptibly agitated, "this is a superhuman 
 task you have taken upon yourself. You do 
 not fully understand the difficulties." 
 
 " Indeed I do, sir. I have calculated every 
 thing, pros and cons, and I am fully deter- 
 mined to seek a home among strangers." 
 
 " But why among strangers ? Here we all 
 love you so dearly." 
 
 " And for that very reason I must go. 
 Strangers will know nothing of my former life, 
 and will not pity me. I know it is kind, and 
 sweet, and all that, but your kindness would 
 be the worst thing for me now. My only
 
 174 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 chance is to be courageous, and look the situa- 
 tion bravely in the face. My education and 
 musical talent I can now turn to some use." 
 
 " You can use both here. You know, Edith, 
 that since your parents died I have had a fa- 
 ther's interest in you, and can help you with 
 your labors." 
 
 " Please do not make it more painful than it 
 is. There is no other way, Doctor, and if you 
 want to help me, you will remove all obsta- 
 cles to my going. A favorite author of mine 
 says : ' Women are strange creatures. Men 
 think they know us, but they never do. We 
 are different from them, both in our good points 
 and in our bad.' So you must just let me have 
 my own way. That is my bad point." 
 
 " I cannot see the advantage of this plan. 
 Perhaps it is because I am selfish and do not 
 want to lose my favorite child ; for such you 
 have been since the day I placed the sign of 
 your entrance into Christ's fold upon your in- 
 fant brow." 
 
 " I will not be lost to you, Doctor ; indeed 
 no. You must let me write you all my troubles 
 and pleasures ; and you certainly will come
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 1/5 
 
 and visit us ; and perhaps I may sometime 
 come home and see you." 
 
 " But where are you going ? You speak as 
 if this had been a plan perfected for months." 
 
 " It matters little where we go. I prefer a 
 large town, where Henry can have advantages 
 as he grows older, and where I may have a 
 larger field to work in. I intend to take a little 
 French proverb for my motto : ' Aide-toi et 
 le ciel t'aidera.' You see I haven't any rich old 
 uncles to leave me bags full of money ; and I 
 cannot afford to wait for some benevolent old 
 gentleman to take a fancy to me, and then die 
 and leave me a trunk full of treasures," said 
 Edith smiling. 
 
 " You are a brave woman, Mrs. Gantly." 
 
 The last day was quickly passing. Edith 
 had been firm in her resolve. She believed 
 that she was doing right, and never wavered. 
 Dr. Cutler had found a pleasant house for her in 
 a parish where he knew the rector, and it was 
 
 not a great distance from N , so that she 
 
 could be in quick communication with him in 
 case of any emergency. The last few hours
 
 176 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 were the most trying. Norah and the children 
 regretted so much leaving their favorite treas- 
 ures, that it took all Edith's energy to encour- 
 age them. Just before the hour for starting 
 she stood by the window, looking for the last 
 time upon the glorious view; that particular 
 spot where Mr. Gantly had had an opening cut 
 in the trees, so that she could have the full 
 benefit of the scene without leaving the house. 
 Was it strange that her heart began to fail 
 her, and that she whispered to herself, " It is 
 hard. " She looked around the luxurious room, 
 so handsome, yet so homelike ; hers, yet passing 
 from her. It appeared like death in the midst 
 of life. She might be entering into a new 
 sphere, but this was the dear old familiar one, 
 and it was leaving her. Years after Edith told 
 her children she never realized how she bore 
 that hour. It seemed to have been like a 
 dream. It all came suddenly. Many have re- 
 corded such departures with intense vividness 
 of description, relying upon the powers of im- 
 agination for their facts ; but many more have 
 actually endured similar trials, and the latter 
 acknowledge when the life histories are repro-
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 177 
 
 duced how utterly imagination fades before 
 reality. " Remember in these life tragedies we 
 do not see behind the scenes. Perhaps when 
 the play is done we shall." 
 8*
 
 178 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 " The coldness from my heart has gone, 
 
 But still the weight is there ; 
 And thoughts which I abhor will come 
 To tempt me to despair." 
 
 SOUTHEY. 
 
 HE last good-by had been said. Dr. 
 Cutler had endeavored in various 
 ways to get up a little mirth, to pass 
 the time and lessen the pain of parting, which 
 seemed almost too much for him. But it proved 
 very feeble, and Edith seeing the pain it caused 
 him, suddenly imagined that the clocks were 
 slow, and called to Norah to hurry. Every 
 thing was in confusion in a moment. Henry 
 had his dog to look to. Lena insisted on tak- 
 ing her favorite kitten, so the poor creature was 
 squeezed into a basket. Norah had her arms 
 full of wraps and lunch-baskets, topped with the 
 bandbox containing her best bonnet ; she never 
 could trust that to the express. Dr. Cutler gave
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 1/9 
 
 Matthew the same orders, about checking the 
 baggage, over at least a dozen times. Poor 
 weary Edith was the only calm one. At last 
 the carriage door was closed ; a warm pressure 
 of the hand to Edith ; a kiss on each of the 
 children's brows, with " God bless you all," and 
 Dr. Cutler saw them whirled away. They were 
 out of sight of that dear home, and half way 
 down the winding avenue before Edith had the 
 children and wraps all properly stowed ; so she 
 had not a chance to look back. But as they 
 neared the village she caught a glimpse of the 
 cross on the church spire, and watched intently 
 until it was hidden from view as they neared 
 the station. Once or twice a large tear slowly 
 gathered, but she checked it unnoticed. At the 
 station all was again confusion. Baggage to 
 check, tickets to procure, Norah and the chil- 
 dren to get safely deposited in a commodious 
 compartment. They were several miles en 
 route to their new home before Edith realized 
 that they had fairly started. During the ride 
 children and nurse got very tired. Lena fret- 
 ted for her dolls that were in the trunks. Henry 
 tried to be very manly, and declared Norah had
 
 l8O ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 a " grumpy fit," and that she and Lena were 
 not fit to travel. Edith, seeing that they were 
 all over-excited and tired out, put her ingeni- 
 ous brain to work, and with Norah's help made 
 a hammock by stretching a heavy traveling 
 shawl from one end of the long compartment to 
 the other. The children were delighted. Both 
 got in with Fido, and after eating all the oranges 
 and cake their thoughtful mother had provided 
 for them, tfiey fell into a quiet sleep. Norah 
 contrived a pillow in one corner of the lounge, 
 and her eyes soon closed likewise. There was 
 then a temporary lull in Edith's cares. She 
 could sit quietly with her eyes fixed on the 
 changing landscape, although she did not see it. 
 Her thoughts wandered toward that unknown 
 place and unknown life into which she was 
 sweeping. She, for the first time, began to 
 doubt. Anxious as she had been for the change, 
 and wise as the proceeding appeared, yet now, 
 that the last link had been broken, and all that 
 was familiar left behind, that peaceful, precious 
 home appeared, if possible, to grow more dear. 
 " I wonder if I shall ever go back again," 
 thought she. Here her reverie was cut short
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. l8l 
 
 by the conductor on his round for tickets ; 
 and the children waking, a thousand and one 
 questions had to be answered, which passed 
 the time until they arrived at their destination. 
 How many of us have felt that strange sensa- 
 tion of intense solitude on arriving in a strange 
 place. We know not which way to turn. The 
 passers-by are all anxiously absorbed with them- 
 selves, their own affairs, their baggage. Of all 
 places where human nature shows itself to 
 greatest disadvantage, the railroad station is 
 the worst. Edith had prepared herself to fight 
 as well as endure, and had her plans thoroughly 
 formed. They entered their new home with- 
 out any unnecessary delay. An old servant of 
 the former occupant had remained and pre- 
 pared things for their reception ; but the con- 
 trast between the luxurious mansion they had 
 left, and the house they now entered, was very 
 marked. They were shown into a nice, large, 
 square room, but the scant furniture, placed in 
 stiff regularity against the wall j the black stone 
 fireplace reflecting the fading twilight, gave all 
 a ghastly appearance. Edith had a few pleasant 
 words for the rather prim serving- woman, and
 
 1 82 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 desired her to get a cup ot tea made as soon 
 as possible, as they were all very tired, and the 
 children must go to bed. 
 
 Lena had been listening with open mouth 
 and eyes to her mamma's orders, and as soon 
 as she finished rushed into her arms crying : 
 
 "Oh! mamma, mamma! Let us go home. 
 This is not a pretty home. I don't want to 
 stay here." 
 
 As the child nestled into her mother's arms 
 one great sob burst from Edith just one pas- 
 sionate, pent-up sob. Then she kissed her 
 child, and laughing a forced hollow laugh, said, 
 "Is this my little lady that is going to keep 
 house for mamma ? " 
 
 "Very nice housekeeper you will make, 
 Lena," said Henry very opportunely, " if you 
 starve us as you are doing the cat." 
 
 This roused Lena, and she forgot her grief 
 in attending to the wants of her cat. As soon 
 as it could be conveniently accomplished, all 
 were glad to seek their rest. Long after sleep 
 had visited the weary eyelids of her children, 
 yes, even until dawn had melted into perfect 
 daylight, -did Edith lie open-eyed, listening to
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 1 8$ 
 
 every sound. The strange rumbling of the 
 town made her restless, and for the hundredth 
 time she thought over the many difficulties that 
 lay before her. She was indeed brave, though 
 almost a girl. A sense of determined persever- 
 ance, of fighting it out to the end, was strong 
 within her. Like Christian, she met and looked 
 in the face every wild beast in the way, closing 
 her ears to the tempting spirits ; and fearlessly 
 looked ahead, keeping the middle of the path. 
 " No," said she ; " I don't think I am afraid. 
 I shall never be afraid of any thing in this world 
 as long as I have the consolation of my church. 
 Then came a new train of thought; she tried 
 to imagine what the church and rector would 
 be like. He, of course, could not be as perfect 
 as Dr. Cutler. But then, if he were only a 
 little like him, it would be some comfort. 
 With that the past suddenly rose before her. 
 Burying her face in her hands, she tried to 
 force the vision back ; but with every struggle 
 the sense of her utter loneliness would steal 
 upon her with more force than ever. A long- 
 ing came to her for a hand to cling to ; for a 
 breast to lean against, under which beats a
 
 184 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 heart at once strong and tender. Such a wish 
 even the bravest woman feels sometimes, and 
 most piteously needs. A heart that can com- 
 fort and uphold ; not with the strength of an- 
 other woman like herself, but with the power of 
 a man, encouraging her to overcome weak- 
 ness and fight out the sore battle of life a little 
 longer. Alas ! the night seemed to lend its 
 shadow to the dullness of the picture ; for there 
 appeared to be nothing in the future for poor 
 Edith but disappointment, loneliness, and trials. 
 At length, exhausted by these conflicting emo- 
 tions, rest came to that weary and sorely-tried 
 brain, and dreamless sleep relieved the misery 
 of that first night in her new home.
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 18$ 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 " So the dreams depart ; 
 
 So the fading phantoms flee ; 
 And the sharp reality 
 Now must act its part." 
 
 WESTWOOD'S Beads from a Rosary. 
 
 HE sun was well up before Edith 
 awoke from heavy slumber, oppressed 
 with the feeling of being borne down 
 by an irresistible weight of trouble. It was 
 some moments before she could collect her be- 
 wildered ideas. The strangely unfamiliar 
 room ; its four blank white walls ; the cheer- 
 lessness of the uncurtained windows ; the dis- 
 mantled look of the toilet-table, every thing 
 was so odd and cold that Edith was convinc- 
 ing herself she was dreaming, until reality was 
 established by Lena kissing her and begging to 
 have the trunks opened, so that she could get 
 her dolls, and introduce them to her new house. 
 There was too much worldly life in that appeal
 
 1 86 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 to allow of further inactivity. There stood the 
 trunks and valises to be unpacked, and Norah 
 was bustling to and fro in the next room, find- 
 ing fault with every thing she touched. The 
 poor old nurse was in great distress, wonder- 
 ing how she could ever have any order in such 
 a cramped-up place. It was necessary for Edith 
 to be up and superintending with her calm deci- 
 sion and encouraging smile. This necessity for 
 action was the kindest boon that could have 
 been granted her. She dressed as quickly as 
 she could, laughing with Lena at the numerous 
 mishaps which occurred ; for, as usual at such 
 times, every article she required was in the 
 wrong place. By the time her toilet was fin- 
 ished, the room had quite a homelike appear- 
 ance, inasmuch as she had, meanwhile, taken 
 the different pretty knick-knacks out of the 
 trunks, and placed them on the mantel and 
 dressing-tables. Henry had arranged some 
 flowers that they had brought from home ; and 
 Lena, conveying her papa's and mamma's pic- 
 tures from the depths of the trunk, now placed 
 them on either side of the vase that held the 
 flowers. Then clapping her hands, she ex-
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 187 
 
 claimed, "O mamma! now it begins to look 
 like home." 
 
 Edith drew up the shade and looked out 
 upon the street. It did not present a very at- 
 tractive appearance, and as she felt her heart 
 swelling again, she turned to the table and 
 took up one of her volumes of litanies and de- 
 votions, and read, " Whosoever will be my 
 disciple must take his cross, take it daily, and 
 so with that burden of suffering follow me." 
 " The cup which my Father hath given me, 
 shall I not drink it ? " " This medicine for my 
 soul, shall I not take it and be healed ? " "We 
 are put into the furnace like precious metal, that 
 we may be refined, and so be set hereafter as 
 jewels in the crown of Christ. Therefore, in 
 all hours of darkness, let us wait patiently for 
 the morn. For as truly as He who suffered on 
 earth now reigns and triumphs in heaven, so 
 truly shall there be for you who mourn a day 
 of gladness, peace, and victory." This food for 
 her soul gave her the courage to meet the dif- 
 ficulties which would naturally arise on the first 
 day in an unknown home. Taking Lena by 
 the hand, she descended to the breakfast-room,
 
 1 88 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 where Henry, who awaited them, had been oc- 
 cupied in unpacking many things and arrang- 
 ing them in as homelike a way as possible. He 
 had made the room look decidedly inviting. 
 
 Henry's boyish efforts to mitigate the annoy- 
 ances which were occasioning so much discom- 
 fort took Edith by surprise. She saw that the 
 child was trying to lighten her load, while she 
 was dwelling too much upon the past, and fail- 
 ing to look forward to the future with hope 
 the future of those young lives which God had 
 intrusted to her care as his most sacred gift. 
 And then the thought came o'er her, that now, 
 in very truth, a new life was opening before her, 
 one of probable struggles and trials, in which 
 there would doubtless be but little repetition of 
 the pleasures of her past life of comfort. And 
 this led to the reflection that the rugged decliv- 
 ities and the storms and tempests of bitter ex- 
 perience give tone and character to life, and 
 that early adversity is often a blessing in dis- 
 guise. It was a consolation to her to recall the 
 remark, said to have been made concerning 
 Bias, the wise Greek, that he himself was the 
 treasure that a whole life had gathered, and
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 189 
 
 that he represented the wealth of being that a 
 thousand struggles had contributed to form. 
 
 And then came Henry's voice. " Mamma, 
 there is a splendid stream the other side of the 
 road. I can see it from the gate. I have been 
 in ever such a hurry getting these things un- 
 packed, so you could go with me after break- 
 fast and see if there are any fish in it. Can we 
 go?" 
 
 " But, my boy," answered Edith, more cheer- 
 fully than she had spoken for some days, "we 
 must first make acquaintance with our new 
 home. I hardly know what it is like yet. 
 Where is Norah ? Come, we must go and help 
 her. This is new work for your old nurse, and 
 I fear she may feel homesick." 
 
 " I think she must be homesick already, for 
 she has been scolding away for half an hour, 
 and says the cook doesn't know how to serve 
 a dish for a lady's table. Just come and see 
 the fun, mamma. I know r the way, I found out 
 the kitchen the first thing. Fido was hungry, 
 so I helped him eat some breakfast." 
 
 They had reached the kitchen by the time 
 Henry had finished his prattle. There they
 
 190 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 found Norah, a picture of despair, trying to 
 make the cook understand how to make an 
 omelet, such as she had been accustomed to see 
 in her mistress's house. 
 
 " Never mind, Norah," said Edith, "any thing 
 will do to-day a boiled egg and some nice 
 bread, or toast, will be all we shall require. The 
 cook can easily prepare that, so you come with 
 us ; we want to look around the house and ar- 
 range where to put things. We want to be at 
 home as soon as possible." 
 
 " At home ! " murmured the old woman, 
 wiping the moisture from her eyes, "never! 
 never ! until we go to the real home." 
 
 The excursion through the various nooks 
 and corners of the house, and the planning for a 
 more comfortable arrangement of the furniture, 
 proved a wise move on Edith's part. The 
 good effects were seen in the interest which 
 was aroused in all as to their immediate sur- 
 roundings, and soon mental and physical occu- 
 pation supervened the very best cure for 
 home-sickness.
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 191 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 "Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising 
 
 every time we fall." CONFUCIUS. 
 
 " But Christes love, and his apostles twelve ; 
 He taught, but first he folwed it himselfe." 
 
 CHAUCER. 
 
 ONTHS slipped by. Edith endeav- 
 ored to keep house as economically as 
 possible upon the little ready money 
 she possessed. As yet she had been unable to 
 procure any pupils, and nothing but her own 
 daring, and the strong well-spring of hope that 
 was in her young healthy heart, could have 
 sustained her in what, ten years after, would 
 have appeared to her as a certain downright 
 madness. The hundred labors she went 
 through, weariness of body and travail of soul, 
 their mere record could never bear sufficient 
 witness to them. God had given her not only 
 great strength, but great elasticity of tempera-
 
 192 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 ment ; and hence she never lingered long 
 under the fringe of a cloud. She cared not for 
 the comforts and luxuries she had lost, but the 
 pain was in bringing up her children in a con- 
 dition all but penurious, and deprived of so 
 many advantages which she as a girl had en- 
 joyed. She knew of the unconscious influence 
 of outward things, which affects children, even 
 at an early age, far more than is suspected. 
 She saw all this, knew all they lacked, and 
 would have given any thing to have provided a 
 remedy. Yes, she was bound hand and foot 
 with the iron bands of almost poverty. Able 
 to do nothing for them but love them, she did 
 that, and God only knows how a mother's heart 
 goes out to her children with a perfect torrent 
 of passionate devotedness. How can that love 
 be more beautifully expressed than by these 
 two short lines : 
 
 " A mother is a mother still, 
 The holiest thing alive." 
 
 Look tenderly, dear reader, on this picture 
 of struggles. To some they may appear small. 
 Nevertheless they are terribly true. Thousands 
 of women, well born, well reared, know of such
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 193 
 
 a phase in life, and happy are they if it ended 
 in youth, while mind and body still had enough 
 vitality and elasticity to endure. Happier still 
 if they feel these trials to be utterly unaccounted 
 for except by a belief in an inscrutable provi- 
 dence, " that shapes our ends, rough hew them 
 how we may." 
 
 It was difficult for Edith to keep cheerful as 
 Christmas drew near. The children were anxi- 
 ous to make the usual preparations, and she 
 found it very hard to refuse them any amuse- 
 ment her slender purse could provide ; but as 
 Dr. Cutler came before the holidays were ended, 
 every thing finally wore a brighter appearance. 
 
 " How much Henry has improved ! He will 
 be of great assistance to you by and by," re- 
 marked Dr. Cutler, as he and Edith watched 
 the children playing in the snow. 
 
 " He promises to be fond of study ; but I 
 hardly know how I shall be able to stand his 
 educational expenses. My plans do not meet 
 with entire success." 
 
 " Yet I have always found that intense desire 
 transforms possibilities into certainties, and our 
 wishes are but prophecies of the things we are 
 9
 
 I 9 4 
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 capable of doing, that is, if we are faithful to 
 ourselves." 
 
 " I have been wondering lately if I could not 
 turn my talent for painting to some advantage. 
 There is a very pretty art store in the town. 
 They might sell my sketches for me ; and in 
 that way I could attain a little ready money to 
 help our daily expenses ; and so when the 
 children are older they could have the advan- 
 tages they require." 
 
 " Most assuredly you could. Have you made 
 any inquiries ? " 
 
 " No ; I have been so unhappy lately. You 
 know I was promised music pupils several 
 times ; but they have put me off from time to 
 time with excuses, until I have become per- 
 fectly disheartened. It seems as if every thing 
 that I undertake goes to the wall. You see I 
 have but little confidence in my own ability ; for 
 you always watched and guided me like a lesser 
 providence, so that I was never conscious of my 
 dependence until I had to depend on myself." 
 
 " You have traveled through the White 
 Mountains," said Dr. Cutler, " and must have 
 noticed how the road seems frequently to be
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 195 
 
 shut in by frowning precipices, to all appear- 
 ances rendering further progress impossible. 
 But as you neared the obstacles you found the 
 path running gracefully and safely through the 
 gorge. So it is with the fearful obstructions 
 that bid defiance to our progress in life. They 
 are generally only apparent difficulties, and will 
 vanish as soon as we confront them. Let noth- 
 ing discourage you ; and, depend upon it, no 
 matter how hard it may seem, the Good Shep- 
 herd is giving you what is best. The higher 
 things are not gained by success in this world." 
 
 " But if I should offer my pictures and they 
 were refused, I should be so discouraged ' 
 
 "That you would come home and more 
 earnestly set to work," said her pastor. " It will 
 be the road to your success. Life is too short 
 for us to waste its moments in deploring bad 
 luck. We must pursue success, since it will not 
 come to us. This chance of work has been put 
 in your way, and I see in it a means of future 
 happiness. If it do not succeed, it will at least 
 drive off this ennui, which is creeping over 
 you, and which is a most dangerous enemy, if 
 it once gets hold. Bring me some of your
 
 i 9 6 
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH, 
 
 sketches. I remember watching your efforts 
 (and very rough they were), when you were no 
 older than little Lena." 
 
 " I think you will pass the same judgment on 
 them now," said Edith smiling, as she turned 
 over some drawings on the table. 
 
 " Ah ! let me see," he said, selecting one, 
 while his countenance showed evident tokens 
 of surprise and gratification. It was an accu- 
 rate picture of the interior of his church. 
 
 " Yes," sighed Edith. " All my sweetest 
 thoughts are connected with that hallowed spot ; 
 and could I have the comfort of my church 
 here, it would make life so much easier." 
 
 " But you surely have your church. It is 
 not closed, is it ? " 
 
 " No ; but it is not like ours at home. In the 
 first place there is no life about it. Dr. Lewis 
 is one who takes little thought outside of his 
 study. He leaves it to the congregation to do 
 the work, and consequently there is no real 
 work done." 
 
 " Why, I am greatly surprised ; I always 
 considered him a good worker. I know he is 
 clever."
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 197 
 
 " As to that, I think that you are right. He 
 is clever ; but a clever man is not necessarily a 
 wise one, and you will see for yourself what a 
 state the church is in here. Every thing is 
 conducted in a very careless manner. There is 
 a great want of reverence in the congregation. 
 It really shocked me at first. Then the church 
 is never open, except Sundays. I asked one 
 of the ladies, a Mrs. Green, if they did not have 
 evening prayer every day, and she looked per- 
 fectly amazed, and said they ' were not Pusey- 
 ites.' I answered that, ' going to church daily 
 did not necessarily constitute Puseyism, and I 
 considered it necessary to have the church al- 
 ways open, accessible to any one who wished to 
 take advantage of silent prayer. In order that 
 a Church should prosper, its services should be 
 conducted as nearly as possible in accordance 
 with a liberal interpretation of the rubrics of the 
 Anglican Church.' That made her perfectly 
 savage. She was not well enough acquainted 
 with me to say what she thought, but has since 
 shown her antipathy in every imaginable way." 
 
 " I do not think you acted wisely ; not but 
 that your principles are right ; but, being a
 
 198 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 stranger, it would have been best to keep your 
 views to yourself until such times as you could 
 use them to advantage." 
 
 " But you can hardly appreciate the condition 
 of the parish, Doctor ; and all caused by the 
 narrow-mindedness of the people. They asked 
 me to take a class in what they called a Sun- 
 day-school ; so I went, and found they had no 
 proper room, but held the school in the church. 
 The children laughed and talked, and seemed 
 to have no regard for the sanctity of the place. 
 Mrs. Green was, to all appearances, the head, 
 and I again got in her black book by asking .if 
 we could not get a room to hold the school in. 
 She said it had always been conducted there, 
 and she saw no reason for any change. One of 
 the younger teachers was in favor of my plan, 
 but it has only caused hard feeling, and I do 
 not see a chance of success. The parish is in 
 a lamentable condition." 
 
 " And do you think you are bettering it by 
 getting into discussions with the supporters ? I 
 fear you are sapping what little strength it has. 
 If you wish to open the eyes of these people, 
 make friends with them, and then they will lis-
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 199 
 
 ten to your suggestions. Do not push your 
 views forward. It will appear like seeking no- 
 toriety. And above all things never assume the 
 air of championship, but that of retiring mod- 
 esty. Do your best, without thinking of bril- 
 liant success. God helps those who do so work." 
 
 " I am sure, Doctor, I meant all for the best; 
 but it makes me almost disheartened to see 
 those children being brought up in the way 
 they are ; really nothing done for their im- 
 provement. I am perfectly powerless ; but if I 
 had means I would build a Sunday-school room 
 for them." 
 
 " Ah ! I am afraid you are too impatient, and 
 anxious for immediate results. This trial will 
 train you for better efforts. Let me read you 
 a few lines," and the Doctor took up a Bible 
 and read these words : " Know ye not that 
 they who run in a race run all, but one re- 
 ceiveth the prize. So run that ye may obtain. 
 And every man that striveth for the mastery is 
 temperate in all things. Now they do it to 
 obtain a corruptible crown, but we an incor- 
 ruptible.' Be steadfast in your faith ; watch 
 over your heart, and believe steadfastly in
 
 2OO ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 %- 
 
 things that are invisible ; for the lusts of this 
 world are deceitful above all things." 
 
 " I experience this constantly ; and I knew 
 how wicked it was to feel as I did toward Mrs. 
 Green. But there was no one to whom I could 
 go in my trouble ; so I thought it best to leave 
 things as they were, for my small influence 
 would be of no avail." 
 
 " When you were a child do you not re- 
 member dropping stones in a pond. The 
 watery circles thus described increased and 
 widened ring beyond ring, till they reached the 
 utmost limits the banks would allow. So it is 
 with an energetic nature, bent on doing good. 
 It will find its range of benevolence extending 
 day by day, and by persevering it will comprise 
 a thousand new objects of which it had hitherto 
 taken no thought. Let there be thorough con- 
 sistency in all your undertakings, and by de- 
 grees these very people who would now op- 
 pose you will long for what they call innova- 
 tions. Your labor must be like the sun's rays, 
 given out freely and expecting no return. The 
 first step you must take in your attempt to 
 carry Christ's doctrines into practice, is to fight
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 2OI 
 
 a decisive battle with your own selfishness. 
 We all must begin where Christ began, at the 
 cross. From that eminence of suffering love, 
 he taught that self-denial was indispensable to 
 a holy life." 
 
 " Surely, Doctor, I am willing to deny my- 
 self every thing. How do you mean that I am 
 selfish ? " 
 
 " You will find in Christ's ' sermon on the 
 mount,' that he lays down the cardinal doctrine 
 of his kingdom as complete unselfishness ; and 
 assures all those who try to learn that doctrine 
 that they may look to God for every help they 
 can ever require. The term unselfishness em- 
 braces the mortifying of all bad, personal in- 
 stincts, such as pride, self-satisfaction, jealousy, 
 or any feeling that may tend to self-defense. 
 Our whole nature must be love, and love is 
 God. If you wish to be like God, Christ sug- 
 gests one motive, the reproduction of the 
 nature of God. ' Be ye therefore perfect, even 
 as your Father in heaven is perfect.' ' Love 
 your enemies ; bless them that curse you ; do 
 good to them that hate you, and pray for them 
 which despitefully use you and persecute you.
 
 2O2 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 " Then I fear I have a hard task before me. 
 I am not good enough to quietly endure Mrs. 
 Green's opposition." 
 
 "You must not begin by putting forth views 
 for opposition. Keep Christ's life constantly 
 before you. He did not begin by abusing his 
 failing disciples. He told them what high 
 things were expected of them. He encouraged 
 them by telling them they were really great ; 
 that they were the salt of the earth and the 
 light of the world ; yet reminded them that 
 a candle might be put under a bushel. Do 
 you see the difference between the essential 
 and the accidental. You must first encourage 
 those whom you wish to influence, after that 
 they will be directed." 
 
 "It was so little trouble to follow one's duty 
 while under your guidance, Doctor, that I 
 think I was sent away to try my strength. Yet 
 I have proved unequal to the test at the out- 
 set." 
 
 " Still, my child, it is better so. Every fail- 
 ure strengthens us. From our earliest infancy 
 to our oldest age, the meaning of the lessons 
 and holy words that we learn becomes more
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 203 
 
 and more apparent, but the full comprehension 
 comes not until this life is merged in the here- 
 after of heaven." 
 
 Edith enjoyed every moment of the Doctor's 
 visit with that sort of quiet contentment so 
 soothing to saddened temperaments that have 
 been aroused or drawn out for a time. She re- 
 turned to her duties with renewed vigor, armed 
 to meet all provocations. Mrs. Green soon 
 after set afloat various malicious reports con- 
 cerning Edith ; but Edith, amid them all, main- 
 tained a quiet dignity, and thus the shafts that 
 had been feathered for Edith's discomfiture 
 were turned from their destination. In time 
 many of the parish matters were revised. The 
 school was found too large to be accommodated 
 in the church, and a convenient room for it was 
 procured until such time as a parish house 
 could be built. Edith's work made her many 
 friends, and her firm gentleness won the hearts 
 of the children. They became orderly, and by 
 interesting them in the music and church 
 services, they became reverential. After a 
 while it was no uncommon thing to hear the 
 church bell on week-days.
 
 204 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 " In whatever is an object of life, in whatever may be infin- 
 itely and for itself desired, we may be sure there is something 
 of divine, for God will not make any thing an object of life to 
 his creatures, which does not point to, or partake of, himself." 
 
 IME accustoms one to changes. Years 
 passed on in the daily routine of 
 Edith's life. Her innumerable occu- 
 pations served to soothe and sustain her. She 
 saw a chance of success in the path she had 
 marked out for herself ; and that was the secret 
 of her serenity of spirit. Her firm, upright in- 
 tention and force of character were felt far be- 
 yond her own perception. Indeed she knew 
 not that she had personal influence at all, but 
 went on in her own straightforward humility. 
 There were times when her burden pressed 
 sorely, and the monotony of her daily labors 
 seemed almost unbearable times when the 
 tempter would whisper " turn ; " but she would
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 2O5 
 
 check the thought and pray for God's grace, 
 and strength sufficient to follow her star of fate 
 through the wilderness. With time the strug- 
 gle grew less severe, and a trustful piety settled 
 around that home. And home it truly was : 
 for in the small family circle, the gentle, sub- 
 missive bearing of that loving mother was suffi- 
 cient to surround it with an unspeakable calm. 
 She had a soothing influence like the parting 
 sunlight, or the voice of doves heard at even- 
 ing an influence that 
 
 " Droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven 
 Upon the place beneath." 
 
 Edith never was lonely. Her children were 
 her constant companions. She never allowed 
 them to see a regretful look upon her face ; 
 and, from living so entirely wrapt up in them, 
 her former life had come to be a dream of the 
 past. The home had assumed a different ap- 
 pearance since we first saw the cold, blank 
 walls. Every thing was simple but tasteful. A 
 look of refinement pervaded the atmosphere, 
 and the pretty sitting-room, with its delicate 
 blue furniture was a picture. It was there Edith
 
 2O6 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 did her painting, while Henry and Lena studied 
 their lessons. In this charming retreat we find 
 her one evening, just before the lamps were 
 lighted. She had left her table and was stand- 
 ing anxiously by the window. Turning ner- 
 vously to Lena, she said : 
 
 " Lena, dear, I cannot understand what has 
 delayed Henry so. It is some hours since I 
 sent him for the. mail. Run and ask Norah if 
 she had not better go after him." 
 
 " Now, ma'am, what are you fretting about 
 that boy for ? " said the old nurse as she en- 
 tered with Lena. " He is getting old enough 
 to take care of himself; and even if he wasn't, 
 don't every man, woman, and child know Mrs. 
 Gantly's son ; for. bless him, he's the finest boy 
 in town." 
 
 " But, Norah, it's getting dark, and then he 
 was in such a hurry to get back to finish some 
 sketches he was working at." 
 
 " Like as not he has met some of the boys, 
 and they are having a little play." 
 
 " Hardly, Norah ; he went for the mail, and 
 he knew I was anxiously looking for a letter 
 from Dr. Cutler."
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 2O/ 
 
 "Well, the mail maybe late; but If it will 
 quiet you, I will just go and look for him." 
 
 Turning again to the window, Edith put up 
 her hands in alarm, exclaiming : " Oh, Norah, 
 what can be the meaning of that crowd of men 
 coming this way ? " 
 
 Before the old woman had time to answer, 
 Henry almost knocked her over as he bounded 
 into the room, and, rushing to his mother, in 
 broken sentences told her there had been a 
 terrible railroad accident, " and there are so 
 many killed, mamma. The houses near the 
 station are crowded, and I told Dr. Lewis to 
 bring one poor gentleman, who seemed almost 
 dead, to our house, for I knew, mamma, that 
 you would take of him." Edith only had time 
 to assure Henry that he was right, as the men 
 reached the house with their sad burden. 
 
 " I do declare," exclaimed Norah, putting her 
 glasses on the end of her rrose to have a better 
 look at Edith ; " what will you and those 
 children do next ? as if your life had not been 
 sad enough without bringing more death into 
 it!" 
 
 " Norah, do not forget that you are a Chris-
 
 208 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 tian. Go to the door immediately and let them 
 take the poor man to Henry's room." 
 
 Edith drew Henry and Lena to her, as they 
 heard the heavy tread of the men ; and they 
 bowed their heads, as at the approach of death, 
 as the party passed the door. 
 
 " Oh, mamma, the scene at the station was 
 frightful. The train has in some way been 
 thrown from an embankment but a short dis- 
 tance from the town, and they are carrying the 
 dead and wounded in as fast as possible." 
 
 Henry's further description was cut short by 
 Norah coming back to the room, wringing her 
 hands and announcing, without preface or prep- 
 aration, that the dead man was "poor, dear, 
 Master Charlie Barclay." 
 
 " What ! " cried Edith, springing forward and 
 catching Norah by the arm, " are you crazy ? " 
 
 " Crazy ! I wish I was," sobbed she, taking 
 Edith in her arms. " It is Master Charlie as 
 true as I live, and God has sent him to my poor 
 child to bury." 
 
 " Have you lost your senses ? " cried Edith, 
 sharply, trembling from head to foot. 
 
 " It is as true as I am standing here, and Dr.
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 2OQ 
 
 Lewis, as soon as they have examined him, 
 will tell you so." 
 
 " And do you mean that he is dead? " cried 
 Edith, with a hollow voice, looking searchingly 
 into Norah's eyes. 
 
 But the question was not answered by Norah ; 
 for at that moment the door opened and Dr. 
 Lewis came in, accompanied by the physician 
 who had attended the sufferer from the scene of 
 disaster. The latter was a pompous man, whose 
 habit was to indulge in long disquisitions, using 
 many high-sounding technical terms on the 
 probabilities and possibilities of serious results, 
 consequent from his not being called to the pa- 
 tient in time. But for once Dr. Lewis, seeing 
 Edith's too evident struggle for composure, 
 begged of him in as few words as possible to 
 tell Mrs. Gantly if the patient were alive or dead; 
 for from Norah's exclamations he concluded 
 that the gentleman must be a friend of the 
 family. 
 
 " I can assure you, Mrs. Gantly, the spark of 
 life has not yet left the frame, but 
 
 " Very good, very good. Then, Doctor, we 
 will not waste any time talking about it," said
 
 210. ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 Dr. Lewis, cutting this dissertation short. " We 
 must move quickly. Dp you do everything in 
 your power to keep life in your patient, and I 
 will assist Mrs. Gantly in notifying his friends," 
 adding with a smile as he bowed the physician 
 from the room, " I am confident in your show- 
 ing your usual skill. 7 ' Returning then to Edith 
 he calmly remarked, " I do not think that there 
 is cause for alarm at present, Mrs. Gantly. 
 Your friend, if such he be, is unconscious, and 
 may not be as seriously injured as we fear. 
 Now tell me, if you can, whom to telegraph, and 
 I will immediately set about it. You have 
 enough to harass you, and must not take this 
 new burden." 
 
 " I hardly know what to tell you to do, Doc- 
 tor," answered Edith in a bewildered manner. 
 " I do not know who poor Charlie's friends are. 
 His father and mother are dead, and until a few 
 moments ago I imagined that he himself was in 
 Europe. But Dr. Cutler must come ; we all 
 belong to him," and, shuddering, Edith clasped 
 her hands as if to drive back her grief. 
 
 " Then I will send for Dr. Cutler immediate- 
 ly. But is there not some physician that you
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 211 
 
 would like ? Our scanty supply of medical 
 talent is in such demand that I think it would 
 be advisable to call in other assistance." 
 
 " Oh, yes. Please tell Dr. Cutler to bring 
 Dr. Sands with him. You know Charlie is a 
 doctor himself," said Edith innocently, for the 
 moment forgetting that Dr. Lewis had never 
 heard of the said Charlie until ten minutes 
 before. 
 
 But the Doctor understood her bewilder- 
 ment. Her life for the last few years had been 
 such an ordinary, every-day affair, with the ex- 
 ception of her financial troubles, that this sud- 
 den shock seemed to render her mind almost 
 chaotic. Her thoughts were, in a measure, 
 beyond her control. She could only place her 
 mind on one idea Charlie was in her house. 
 The last companion of her childhood had come 
 home to her to die. It must be a dream! 
 How could it be true ?
 
 212 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 " Dead calm in that noble breast, 
 
 Which heaves but with the heaving deep." 
 
 TENNYSON. 
 
 HEAVY, mournful silence had hung 
 over that happy home for two days. 
 Every one moved quietly. The few 
 orders that were necessary were given in whis- 
 pers. The sufferer had remained unconscious. 
 With the exception of a vague wandering at 
 times, one would almost believe him dead. 
 
 " I wish I had ascertained about the trains," 
 fretted Edith, as she followed Norah from room 
 to room. She could not rest quietly anywhere. 
 A nurse had been procured, and Dr. Cutler, 
 with the physician, was momentarily expected. 
 " Now, Mrs. Gantly, I don't know what to 
 make of you ; fretting yourself to death this 
 way. They telegraphed that they were com- 
 ing, and so of course they are coming."
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 213 
 
 " But, Norah, the nurse says he is growing 
 more restless, and she thinks there is but little 
 hope." 
 
 " Don't you know those nurses never have 
 any hope ? It would not be proper. They 
 always make the patient out as bad as possi- 
 ble, and then get all the more credit for cur- 
 ing him." 
 
 " Norah, what is the use of trying to be so 
 stoical ? You are as anxious as I am ; and 
 you know I am trying to be cheerful, and have 
 been unusually so. But this suspense is so 
 trying. If Dr. Sands would only come, then I 
 think I should be satisfied." 
 
 And it so happened that, turning at that mo- 
 ment toward the door, she met Dr. Sands, as 
 he entered with Dr. Cutler. As the latter took 
 her hands and looked down on her with his 
 anxious and worn face, yet calm as a summer 
 sea, full of the peace " which passeth all under- 
 standing," she broke down completely, and 
 cried like a child. The physician followed 
 Norah to the sick room, and in his absence 
 Dr. Cutler ventured to ask how the patient was. 
 
 " The physicians have been in consultation
 
 214 - ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 some time," sobbed Edith, " and I have been 
 anxiously waiting for tidings." 
 
 " Is he all the time unconscious ? " 
 
 " As far as we can judge. He sometimes 
 seems to wake a little, but only to fall back 
 into that feverish wandering, followed by ex- 
 haustion. The physicians all say that there is 
 imminent danger, unless he gets asleep. It is 
 so hard to think that we can only stand by and 
 watch him die," and losing control of herself, 
 Edith again broke down. 
 
 " Do not forget, my child, that God is good, 
 and while it is proper to prepare for the worst, 
 let us hope and pray and work for the best." 
 
 " I know it, Doctor, and I fancied all these 
 years of trouble had made me stronger and 
 more trustful. But my old enemy has come 
 back in the presence of this anguish." 
 
 " You are trustful, Edith, and wonderfully 
 brave ; but I imagine you require rest. We 
 will watch and pray, and, if God sees fit, He 
 will yet restore our brother." 
 
 Edith removed her hands from her eyes, 
 and listened for a moment. Then suddenly 
 rising, her whole form trembled. Her quick
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 21$ 
 
 ears had caught the physicians' steps. They 
 all three came quietly into the room ; two of 
 them with white hair, and grave, thoughtful 
 faces. The eldest of the two, Dr. Sands, came 
 forward toward Edith, and taking the hand 
 she offered, he kept it in his own while he 
 spoke : 
 
 " Our poor Charlie is in a very critical state, 
 but I do not despair, if I can depend on his old 
 constitution and his nurses. Now tell me, has 
 he said anything that you could understand ? " 
 
 " Only a word here and there." 
 
 "Did you know what they referred to his 
 early life or something you were not familiar 
 with ? " 
 
 " Once he spoke of home ; then he called his 
 mother ; and last night Norah told me he sang 
 part of a song he used to sing with Henry." 
 
 " Very good. He is likely to recall his 
 early days and friends ; and having them near 
 him may save his life. Could you nerve your- 
 self to watch his restless sufferings, and not 
 allow yourself to be afraid of his dying ? Do 
 you think you could calmly meet his gaze when 
 he returns to consciousness ? For he will do
 
 2l6 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 so, I am confident, if he can only get asleep 
 within the next six hours." 
 
 " Oh, do let me. I know I can." 
 
 " You must not undertake this rashly. 
 Your presence may do serious harm in place 
 of good, unless you are prepared." 
 
 " You are unwise. Allow me to suggest," 
 remarked the resident physician, "that Mrs. 
 Gantly is not very strong, and has been much 
 overcome by her friend's critical condition ; 
 and it is a sad sight to see a friend's life hang- 
 ing by a thread." 
 
 " Very true ; but I have great confidence in 
 Mrs. Gantly's power of endurance and self-con- 
 trol," said Dr. Cutler. " I highly approve of 
 Dr. Sands's suggestion." 
 
 " Please let me," said Edith with a faint little 
 smile, raising her eyes to her two friends. " I 
 will follow your directions exactly. I can be as 
 calm and composed as you could wish, and 
 then I am always wakeful. You know, Doctor, 
 that I am used to sickness and to death." 
 
 These words were spoken with so much 
 pathos, that both the gentlemen turned their 
 eyes from the sad face that looked so calm
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 2 1/ 
 
 notwithstanding the surging pain that was in 
 her heart. 
 
 " Would it not be well to rest first ? " asked 
 Dr. Cutler. 
 
 " I could not sleep. It would rest me to 
 watch him." 
 
 "You are right," said Dr. Sands. "With 
 such assistance I have every hope of saving 
 him." 
 
 10
 
 2l8 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 " And to his eye 
 
 There was but one beloved face on earth, 
 And that was shining on him." 
 
 F he could but sleep!" Edith seemed 
 to live on those few words, as she 
 sat beside the bed on which Charlie 
 lay. The room was tastefully furnished, and 
 the variety of pretty articles Edith had made 
 from time to time for Henry gave it a very 
 picturesque appearance. Her simple, soft gray 
 dress, and dainty mourning cap, added to her 
 lovely face, in spite of her pale, anxious coun- 
 tenance. Norah found occasion to be in the 
 room almost all the time. She would bring 
 her knitting and sit by the window; but the 
 knitting progressed very slowly. Her time 
 was mostly employed in wiping her glasses. 
 The nurse waited in the room beyond, and re- 
 lieved Edith when they could induce her to
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 219 
 
 leave her anxious watch for a few moments. 
 Dr. Cutler was constantly near, encouraging 
 and cheering all with his trustful counte- 
 nance. 
 
 Shaded from the light, that fine manly face 
 moved restlessly to and fro on the pillows, 
 hardly quiet for the space of a moment, while 
 that persistent muttering, so agonizing to the 
 listeners, continued without intermission. At 
 one moment the whisper would be one of 
 intense entreaty, almost heart-rending in its 
 earnestness ; the next some passionate expres- 
 sion of wrong, and he would warn every one 
 to keep from him, or they would be burned 
 by the flame that was burning him. Then he 
 would call his mother, and beg her to help 
 him ; to put her hand on his head. 
 
 Edith would place her cool hand on his 
 brow, and for a moment listen with drawn 
 breath for the answer to the prayer for sleep. 
 But in another moment her heart would sink 
 again, as he would dash her hand from him 
 wildly, declaring in the most passionate man- 
 ner that she was keeping some unknown one 
 from him some one whom he seemed to call
 
 220 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 from behind Edith's chair. Again and again 
 this was repeated, as she sat beside the bed, 
 unknown to him, in the awful, acute pain of 
 her watching. 
 
 So hour after hour passed. At times she 
 knelt beside him and looked into his restless 
 eyes. He would whisper sadly : " All all are 
 dead. God's will be done," and turn away. 
 Then she would call him by name, and bath- 
 ing his hot and restless hands, beg of him to 
 remember his playmate Edith. Once he rose 
 and pushed her from him with such force, 
 Norah just caught her in time to save her 
 falling. These hours were, in imagination, 
 ages to Edith, for she could follow him in his 
 wanderings through all the years of their child- 
 hood. Certainly nothing was definite or con- 
 nected, but she could supply all the links that 
 were missing ; and she soon found herself to 
 be the nucleus around which all his thoughts 
 were moving. Scene after scene he lived over 
 again in his delirium. At times he was piti- 
 ful, again angry, then troubled, after which a 
 fit of laughing would follow, and a wild burst 
 of song echo through the silent house.
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 221 
 
 The tears would sometimes gather in Edith's 
 eyes. It was a most terrible ordeal ; still that 
 sleep she prayed for came not. Every moment 
 it seemed further off. Dr. Sands changed medi- 
 cines from time to time, and grew more and 
 more anxious. At last, after some nine hours, 
 Edith thought she perceived a slight change, 
 and motioned to Norah to call the doctor. 
 He came ; and after looking intently for a 
 moment, as he held his patient's wrist, he gave 
 a warning glance to Edith and moved from 
 the bed. She remained with her eyes firmly 
 fixed on the all but lifeless face. The lips 
 moved slower and slower. The head gradu- 
 ally sank on one side, and he fixed his eyes 
 steadily on her, and then, softly murmuring, 
 closed them. Could this be sleep ! Oh, what 
 a relief to see the lids fall over those restless 
 eyes ! Dr. Sands remained motionless by the 
 window. Norah had dropped her work and 
 sat with her hands raised, as if to lower them 
 would awake the sleeper. So in this hushed 
 and breathless silence they waited ; no one 
 near the bed but Edith, she, kneeling with 
 her eyes fixed steadily on that beloved face,
 
 222 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 but her spirit communing with God, as she 
 waited patiently His will. 
 
 " If he should wake," Dr. Sands whispered 
 to Edith, " let him first look at you." 
 
 That "if he should wake," was agony to 
 Edith. The night was far advanced, and the 
 intense silence could be almost felt. For days 
 there had been stillness as of night over the 
 house, unbroken except by the delirium of the 
 patient. That was now hushed, and the quiet 
 was that of death itself. Dr. Cutler noiselessly 
 took his post not far from Edith, and watched 
 the sleeping face. Would the waking ever 
 come ? Would light come to that dazed brain, 
 or would the waking be in an another world ? 
 
 Edith hardly moved from her post of duty. 
 Hours passed, and with the exception of that 
 all but imperceptible breathing, the silence was 
 still unbroken. Suddenly a pain seemed to 
 pierce Edith's heart. She thought she per- 
 ceived a change in the sleeper. Dr. Sands 
 moved toward the bed as if preparing for some- 
 thing. Unconsciously .Edith covered her eyes, 
 as if to shut out the sight ; but as quickly drop- 
 ped her hands and waited. A pause in the
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 223 
 
 breathing came, followed by a sigh, and then, 
 opening his eyes, Charlie gazed intently for a 
 moment at the face that was bending over him, 
 and murmured, " Edith." 
 
 Dr. Cutler, approaching, knelt by the bed, 
 and in the presence of this renewed life, slowly 
 and distinctly repeated that beautiful prayer be- 
 ginning, " Great and mighty God, who bringest 
 down to the grave and bringest up again." 
 So near to the Lord were their hearts lifted 
 up during the utterance of this petition, that 
 for the first few moments that followed the 
 " Amen," there was reflected in those hearts a 
 vision of the heaven of which they were heirs 
 through hope, and they were conscious of a 
 penetrating, as it were, " behind the vail," into 
 the third heaven, when the soul seems to tran- 
 scend the limitations of space and time, while it 
 communes face to face with the Eternal and 
 the Unseen. 
 
 It is of such a condition that Farrar writes 
 when he says : " There are moments when the 
 grace of God stirs sensibly in the human heart, 
 when the soul seems to rise upon the eagle 
 wings of hope and prayer into the heaven of
 
 224 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 heavens ; when, caught up, as it were, unto 
 God's very presence, we see and hear things 
 unspeakable. At such moments we live a life- 
 time ; for emotions such as these annihilate all 
 time. They 
 
 " ' Crowd eternity into an hour, 
 Or stretch an hour into eternity.' 
 
 At such moments we are nearer to God ; we 
 seem to know Him, and be known of Him ; 
 and if it were possible for any man at such a 
 moment to see into our souls, he would know 
 all that is greatest and most immortal in our 
 beings."
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 225 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 " Arrived at last 
 Unto the wished-for haven." 
 
 SHAKESPEARE. 
 
 Heaven's last best gift, my ever new delight." 
 
 MILTON. 
 
 HE crisis had passed. None but those, 
 who have watched the fierce and 
 awful contest between life and death 
 can tell the magic of those words. It was two 
 days before Dr. Sands would allow Edith to 
 converse with Charlie more than a few mo- 
 ments at a time. He lay there quite still and 
 calm as he followed her every movement about 
 the room. She would sit by his side and com- 
 prehend his wishes by his face ; and though she 
 looked wretchedly worn and tired, she would 
 not resign her post, but was ever present to 
 cheer him with her sweet refreshing smile, 
 which had never deserted her through her 
 trials. Though slow, Charlie's recovery v;as 
 10*
 
 226 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 steady, and after a few days he was able to be 
 up and move about the room. Dr. Cutler was 
 overjoyed at getting his boy again, and they 
 passed hours together talking over old scenes. 
 Charlie had traveled all through the Holy Land, 
 and his mind was richly stored with informa- 
 tion. He was much altered ; there was no 
 doubt of that. His youthfulness was gone, and 
 many a white thread was visible in his hair. 
 But the old expression was in his face, though 
 that creased brow told of many a worldly bat- 
 tle fought and won. The first Sunday after 
 convalescence, Dr. Lewis invited Dr. Cutler 
 to officiate in his church. The children and 
 Norah went with him, and Edith remained 
 with the invalid. She read to him the Church 
 service, and, as she finished the epistle, he 
 asked her to play his old favorite hymn, 
 " Nearer, my God, to Thee." As she fin- 
 ished she saw he was much overcome, and 
 going to his side begged him to try and com- 
 pose himself, or the Doctor would seriously 
 blame her for imprudence in allowing him to 
 over-excite himself. 
 
 " It will do me more good than harm, Edith.
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 22/ 
 
 My life for the past few years has been so cold, 
 wandering as I have been, no home ties or 
 pleasures, and now finding myself miraculously 
 brought home to the only friend of my old 
 days, it is no wonder my heart is full." 
 
 Then with difficulty, for it seemed hard for 
 him to speak out, he told her how he had 
 loved her ; how, from the time he had spoken 
 to her that autumn afternoon, she had been his 
 only thought, nt> light fancy of sentimental 
 youth, captivated by every face it sees. But 
 his had been the strong love of a just man, 
 choosing one woman out of all the world, and 
 keeping for her sake his heart pure from all 
 alteration and change. He had held himself 
 bound to her by his deep love, bound by a 
 faithfulness perfect as that of the knights of old, 
 asking nothing and yet giving all. Would that 
 there were more such men and more such love 
 in the world ! 
 
 Taking her hand he held it firmly : " And 
 now, Edith, you know all, and do you think in 
 time you can love me ? " 
 
 " Not more than I love you now, Charlie. 
 You told me all you have just said during those
 
 228 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 terrible days when I longed and prayed for the 
 life God has so mercifully spared." 
 
 And more she told him, though her voice at 
 times broke down in its earnestness. 
 
 " Edith, this is more happiness than I de- 
 serve. I fear I am still in that delirium," whis- 
 pered Charlie, as he folded her in his weak 
 arms, strong, however, in the sense of owner- 
 ship. 
 
 " Life has been given back to me in such 
 fullness, and with it the greatest blessing that 
 life can hold. I fear to let you go, Edith, for 
 how could I now live without my treasure." 
 
 " You must not think you are getting a 
 treasure, Charlie. Trouble has changed me 
 greatly," answered Edith, while a bright 
 blush spread quickly from cheek to brow un- 
 der his earnest gaze. " Do you not see the 
 change ? " 
 
 " Yes. Things are somewhat different from 
 what I should have supposed," and he glanced 
 with a troubled look around the prettily fur- 
 nished room. " Dr. Cutler has told me all ; but 
 I only know one woman whom such trials could 
 make more beautiful and patient. To that one
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 229 
 
 I owe my life, and now offer this poor return 
 of love." 
 
 Edith was overcome with these few words of 
 gratitude, and as she gazed into his eyes as he 
 clasped her in his arms, she saw the earnest- 
 ness and depth of the love and happiness that 
 lay in store for her. 
 
 " Edith," said Charlie just before the church 
 party returned, " the greatest comfort I have 
 had in my wandering life has been in the 
 knowledge that in one dear church at home 
 praise and worship were being offered up in a 
 manner as near perfection as this earth could 
 afford." 
 
 " Is not every thing, our own happiness and 
 all else, given to us to turn into praise, Char- 
 lie?" 
 
 " Yes," echoed Charlie thoughtfully, " and 
 happy are such as can do so." 
 
 " If only one could," sai4 Edith sighing. 
 
 " You can. Don't say otherwise," exclaimed 
 Charlie. " I know at least that you and Dr. 
 Cutler can." 
 
 " Oh yes, he can. It is his secret of joy. 
 To him they are not shadows, but foretastes."
 
 230 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 " What a perfect life he leads ! I have al- 
 ways thought it must be such a happiness to 
 have power of any kind that can be used in di- 
 rect service, or actual doing of good." 
 
 "And have you not such power ? Your pro- 
 fession opens a double field to you. How 
 often the physician can heal the mind as well 
 as the body, and man is born to be a doer of 
 good." 
 
 " Edith, I congratulate you on your success," 
 said Dr. Cutler, coming in with the children. 
 " I never saw a church so much improved. 
 You surely have reaped the benefit of your la- 
 bors, and Dr. Lewis tells me all look to you for 
 advice." 
 
 " Yes, it is improved sir ; but we have to 
 work very slowly." 
 
 " Slow but sure is the safest plan in all 
 things, even in the recovery of our patient 
 here. See how every hour is telling in his 
 favor. However, I may not wait to see the 
 entire cure, for I have been thinking, on my 
 way home, that I must not be idle any longer. 
 The taste of pleasure I have had while being 
 here with you and the children has spoiled me,
 
 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 231 
 
 I fear, for my lonely home. I am getting old, 
 and these young bright faces are a great help 
 to cheerfulness. Now, Edith, you have done a 
 good work here, can't we induce you to come 
 home ? We need you indeed we do." 
 
 " That is exactly my idea, Doctor, you have 
 anticipated my feelings," interrupted Charlie, 
 happiness beaming through his eyes. 
 
 " I have asked Edith to let me take her 
 home, and now look for your consent." 
 
 The good old man contemplated them in sur- 
 prise for a moment, then joined their hands, 
 saying, " Take her, Charlie. The dearest wish 
 of my heart is fulfilled. Take her, and never 
 let her know a sorrow you can guard her from. 
 May God bless you both." 
 
 Let us linger a moment for a final glance at 
 the girl whom we first met in all the exuber- 
 ance of youth, and amid the brightness of a 
 happy home. Changed ! Yes, she is ; but love- 
 lier than of old ; that is, lovelier if heavenly 
 patience through trials that purify and exalt 
 can shed over human features something more 
 beautiful than girlish bloom. She encountered 
 difficulties while a mere child, before strength,
 
 232 ALL ABOUT EDITH. 
 
 spirits, or judgment were ready for the task. 
 She was borne down by the load of responsi- 
 bilities with which she was burdened, and was 
 painfully alive to her failures. But she learned 
 to bear her burdens, and the rod and the staff 
 are her comfort. At times her heart had well- 
 nigh fainted, but her faith never forsook her. 
 These things have passed, and their memory 
 is sweetened by thankfulness. In place of the 
 desponding child, there is now the trustful wo- 
 man. Further trouble may be in store, the 
 clouds may return, but she is safe. Her secu- 
 rity is not in freedom from the storm, but in the 
 belief that " God is love." 
 
 THE END.
 
 H. K. 
 
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