- 
 . 
 
 V >\
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 A NOVEL 
 
 BOSTON: 
 LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 CHARLES T. DILLINGHAM. 
 
 1880.
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1880, 
 BY LEE AND SHEI'AKD. 
 
 All right* reserved.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE warehouse of Prescott & Co. occupied the 
 upper stories and lofts of a large granite build- 
 ing in Devonshire Street. The vast floors were 
 supported by iron columns, and were covered 
 with cases of goods laid out in orderly streets and 
 lanes. A portion of the first story near the broad 
 front-windows was sequestered by a mahogany 
 railing, and was filled with desks, at which a dozen 
 or more clerks were at work upon ledgers, bills, 
 and invoices. There were tall men with eye- 
 glasses and gray martial whiskers, precise in man- 
 ner, and oppressed with responsibility ; there were 
 roly-poly boys that would be frisky if they dared ; 
 there were slender youths with yellow mustaches 
 and lofty aspirations ; and there were old fellows, 
 stout and rubicund, who had long ago given up 
 the hope of rising, and settled down to drudgery. 
 Pens scratched away lightly and incessantly ; great 
 folios were turned over ; letters were indorsed 
 and filed. Without, a huge windlass raised and
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 lowered cases ; and the trucks in the street below 
 were coming and going all day. 
 
 Prescott & Co. were selling-agents for a number 
 of manufacturing companies, and carried on an 
 immense business. The senior, Hugh Prescott, 
 had a private room in one corner of the first 
 floor ; and the junior, Adolphus Gibbs, had a simi- 
 lar room opposite. In earlier days they had 
 worked together : it was not so now. Mr. Gibbs 
 had of late taken charge of the correspondence, 
 and employed as private secretary Robert Pres- 
 cott, a nephew of the head of the house. 
 
 As Robert is a person of mark, he should stand 
 for his portrait. Behold him. He is tall, sinewy, 
 and robust. His chestnut hair, abundant and 
 wavy, falls in loose masses around a face of a 
 strong and manly character. The lines indicate 
 courage, probity, reserve, and, above all, a fine 
 intellect. These impressions are heightened by 
 his singularly expressive eyes, which are steel-blue 
 in color in repose, but are lighted up to blazing 
 points in moments of excitement, or softened at 
 times by a not unmanly tenderness. It is the por- 
 trait of a person who should be considerably above 
 the position of private secretary in a warehouse. 
 At the bar, in the pulpit, or in a professor's chair, 
 such a face and figure would have been in keeping 
 with the place. 
 
 Mr. Gibbs was short, and inclined to corpu- 
 lence ; and, as he moved about, it was with an at- 
 tempt to hold his solid and not very shapely head
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 erect, or inclined slightly backward, as if he had 
 been considering the scriptural question as to 
 whether he could, by taking thought, " add a cubit 
 to his stature," and had decided that he could. 
 He might not have been ill looking twenty years 
 before ; but club dinners, and " business " as he 
 understood it, had been distorting his features, 
 and had given his eyes an unlovely gleam. His 
 stubbly beard, which he persisted in wearing 
 closely clipped, as if to show the fulness of his 
 cheeks, added to the prevailing repulsive impres- 
 sion. 
 
 He came by the desk where his secretary sat, 
 threw him a careless nod, and ejaculated a grunt 
 intended as a substitute for a good-morning. 
 Robert calmly and silently bowed, and meanwhile 
 his long nervous hands were stoutly wrestling, 
 one with the other, on his desk. Mr. Gibbs had 
 apparently forgotten something ; for in a moment 
 he came out, and shut the door of his private 
 room behind him. He walked between the desks, 
 casting here and there a look that was like the 
 ray from a burning-glass, or dropping a word 
 that bit like a mineral acid. As soon as he was 
 gone from the warehouse, there was a sigh of 
 relief, so general, and exhaled in such perfect 
 time, that one would think it had been rehearsed. 
 Robert smiled, but mostly at the comic face of 
 the nearest plerk, Gates Percival Amory, famil- 
 iarly called Percy, or sometimes apropos of 
 Gates nicknamed Bars. This young fellow had
 
 8 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 full blue eyes that always seemed to be swimming 
 when they were not winking; a segment of the 
 arch of his round forehead was bordered by a 
 ridge of backward-growing hair, such as rustics 
 call a " cowlick ; " his lips were pulpy and red, 
 like over-ripe strawberries, and his cheeks heavily 
 rotund. But there Nature had hesitated, and be- 
 came a niggard in bounty ; for his neck and chest 
 were slender, and his figure dwindled from the 
 shoulders downward, like a grotesque reflection 
 from a convex mirror. He was not an Antinous, 
 to be sure (somewhat grotesque, in fact), but had 
 a look of intelligence and spirit. 
 
 " Aren't you on speaking terms with your chum 
 Gibbs?" inquired Amory of Robert. 
 
 *' As much as ever." 
 
 " That is, not at all, is it?" 
 
 "Something like that. If I expected to stay 
 here, I should say no more. But I think you are 
 discreet, and I will " 
 
 " Unfold the secrets of your prison-house. Go 
 on." 
 
 Robert, not heeding the interruption, continued 
 gravely: "Kings fed their pride by having cap- 
 tive kings as menials; Roman consuls decorated 
 their triumphs by leading conquered princes in 
 chains : Gibbs, who is more moderate, is satisfied 
 with the practised pen and the enforced silence of 
 a college graduate." 
 
 " That sounds like a part in a play. You have 
 been rehearsing this. It shows that you are 
 galled,"
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 9 
 
 Robert smiled in spite of himself ; for he had 
 been making mental comparisons, and the formal 
 sentences, though newly formed, were not sponta- 
 neous. A rigid thinker, his utterances were apt 
 to be bookish. He went on : 
 
 " I am not only his secretary, I am his pen and 
 penwiper, his chair, his footstool, his door-mat. 
 I am to do only as I am bid." 
 
 " ' Yours not to make reply, 
 Yours not to reason why, 
 Yours but to do and die,' " 
 
 broke in the irrepressible Amory. 
 
 " When he comes, I am not to speak to him, not 
 even to say, ' Good-morning.' I am forbidden ever 
 to address him on any subject, unless in direct 
 reply to his question. When I have answered, I 
 am dumb. I must ask no question in return, nor 
 any explanation." 
 
 " This is monstrous ! Why, the Sultan is more 
 decent than that ! You are a slave. We will 
 have you included in Lincoln's proclamation, and 
 emancipated. Emerson shall write a hymn for 
 
 you. Why, his chuckle-head ! Gibbs's I 
 
 mean. I beg your pardon, I know you have 
 studied divinity ; but really one must swear." 
 
 " But this is not all," continued Robert. " He 
 hedges himself with observances. There is a rule 
 for every action. I haven't the liberty to move, 
 to look at a newspaper, to touch a letter-file. In 
 his presence I am not to sit, unless requested. I
 
 10 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 stand at the window and wait while the great 
 man, leaning back in his chair, meditates, or gives 
 his orders. I come when he calls ; I stand silent 
 until he speaks. Having heard what he has to 
 say, I go. At my own desk, even, I am not to 
 remain seated when he speaks to me. I rise 
 to hear him." 
 
 " Any thing more ? " 
 
 " Yes. I have my orders, that, if any one in- 
 quires for Mr. Gibbs, I am to make one of these 
 three answers : ' Mr. Gibbs, is within,' ' Mr. Gibbs 
 is out,' or 'Mr. Gibbs is engaged.' No matter 
 what other questions are asked me, I surrender 
 my rank as a free moral agent, and repeat, like a 
 parrot, the same sentence as before, as the case 
 may be, ' Mr. Gibbs is within,' ' Mr. Gibbs is 
 out,' or ' Mr. Gibbs is engaged.' " 
 
 "That's true. I heard you answer a man so 
 the other day, and I remember thinking you were 
 either uncivil or stupid. Well, upon my word ! " 
 
 " You will think this a severe ordeal for a proud 
 man ; but I have not been so much humiliated, 
 even by these petty tyrannies as by my share in 
 the moral transactions." 
 
 " Moral transactions ? What have morals to do 
 with selling goods ? " 
 
 "True enough. That is an axiom. I should 
 explain. Mr. Gibbs, I hardly need say, is far too 
 shrewd to allow any lies to be written, out-and- 
 out lies. But he would tear a secretary to pieces 
 if he wrote the exact truth, unless the exact
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 11 
 
 truth were so improbable at the time as not to 
 be believed. So the letters are skilfully studied. 
 There is an evasion here, a slight false suggestion 
 there, a reticence on some vital point beyond. 
 There is a lie in the letter always, but so skilfully 
 put!" 
 
 "Ah! I see. In tuning a piano the difficulty 
 is to dispose of the ' wolf,' the sum total of dis- 
 cord between the upper and lower octaves. So 
 the tuner distributes it from the top to bottom of 
 the scale, making every chord slightly imperfect, 
 but in the end getting rid of the '.wolf.' And you 
 have to temper all your octaves, do you ? " 
 
 " Something quite like it." 
 
 "If lying and meanness were catching, like 
 small-pox gracious, what a pickle you would be 
 
 in 
 
 " Catching or not, I am determined to leave. I 
 shall go to Eaglemont, and help father get in his 
 hay, and in the fall go back to Andover for my 
 degree, or go abroad. You know I expect to 
 become a missionary." 
 
 " Yes," said Amory with a sigh, lamenting in 
 his heart the sacrifice, as it appeared to him. 
 Then, after a pause, " You speak of helping your 
 father ; but $id it ever occur to you that you 
 might do a good turn by helping your uncle ? " 
 
 Robert looked fixedly at the clear blue eyes of 
 his friend, as they alternately swam and winked ; 
 and, without a word being spoken, a ray of intelli- 
 gence was sent and returned.
 
 12 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 Robert reflected. Then Araory, too, suspected 
 the designs of Gibbs ! He thought of his good 
 and generous uncle, a man so esteemed, that to 
 be " as honest as Hugh Prescott " was a proverb 
 on 'change. lie wondered if Gibbs did mean to 
 ruin his old partner if he had the power. 
 Then he remembered the troubled looks of his 
 uncle. He had seen that Gibbs more and more 
 took the direction of affairs, and quietly ignored 
 the senior. He remembered the costly style of 
 living in his uncle's house, the superb receptions, 
 the profuse hospitality. He thought of the pride 
 of Mrs. Prescott, of her carriage, dress, church, 
 and concerts ; and he thought with indignation 
 (as he had often done before) of the habits of her 
 son Roderick, who was pleased with the distinc- 
 tion of being the most extravagant member of the 
 Arlington Club. 
 
 Yes, these expenses for his wife ,and step-son had 
 perhaps exceeded his uncle's income, large as it 
 had been. 
 
 But what could he, Robert Prescott, a poor the- 
 ological student, do for this uncle in his emer- 
 gency ? He had been willing to work for a year 
 to recruit his finances ; but to continue under 
 Gibbs in abject slavery, bound to a business 
 that he had no taste for, to give up his manhood, 
 his intellect, his moral nature, his mission as a 
 preacher ? It was not to be thought of. 
 
 Besides, his uncle had not taken him into his 
 confidence, and evidently did not think him
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 13 
 
 enough of a man of business to be consulted. 
 Yes, it was best that he should return to his pro- 
 fession. What should detain him?. He felt at 
 liberty to resign his position, and to leave on short 
 notice. 
 
 But, after all, he did not exert his will ; or, if 
 he did, the universe was a solid wall around Bos- 
 ton, and he could not get out. The divinity stu- 
 dent was in love. He did not know it ; only at 
 the thought of going away there was something 
 tugging at his heart, some glistening lines, as 
 fine as spider's threads, floating in air, yet potent 
 as the invisible forces of nature ; and it required 
 no long observation to perceive that the figure 
 towards which the traction tended was a young 
 lady just out of her teens, whose rich color of tea- 
 rose, and soft dark hair and eyes, were like a 
 dream of an Italian painter. The longer he medi- 
 tated, the more tangible grew the lines that 
 stretched out to him, and led back to the image. 
 "Edwards on the Will" failed to elucidate the 
 mystery. 
 
 But the situation was a delicate one. He did 
 not know the girl's parentage, nor any name for 
 her but Phcebe ; for so she was called in his 
 uncle's house, where she lived on terms of inti- 
 macy, if not of equality, and where she had lived 
 from early childhood. It was Phcebe simply 
 whom he loved. She might be Phcebe Maloney, 
 or Courtney, or de Guiscard, or Delia Torre. 
 His uncle, Hugh Prescott, had not legally adopted
 
 14 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 her ; yet he and his wife treated her as a daughter, 
 and gave their hearts to her as few parents do. 
 She was barely twenty, wholly unspoiled by the 
 world, sweet and equable in temper, simple in 
 manner and speech. So he had found her during 
 the year he had been teaching her Latin. These 
 traits occurred to him now in flashes of memory ; 
 and above all he remembered an unwonted matu- 
 rity of character, in which the charming dignity of 
 the woman was blended with the joyous nature 
 of the child. 
 
 She was inaccessible as a star. Could he go to 
 the uncle, without any settled purpose in life, and 
 ask him for the darling of his heart? Could he 
 ask Mrs. Prescott, who was a devotee of propriety, 
 Boston's chief god, for a young girl with 
 braids of hair down her back, still studying 
 music and languages, and he without an establish- 
 ment, or the means to set up one ? Dare he make 
 his suit to Phcebe even? Would this fresli and 
 lovely girl be content to share his lot as a poof 
 preacher, or perhaps as a missionary to the hea- 
 then? 
 
 The desire alone Avas on one side, and a dozen 
 solid objections on the other. 
 
 And then Roderick, the gay impertinent what 
 if his mother had plans for him? What if she 
 had reared this charming young woman for her 
 future daughter-in-law ? 
 
 Between all these difficulties and dangers the 
 young man was sufficiently perplexed.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 15 
 
 The whole circle of doubts had, however, been 
 traversed in an incredibly short time ; for, as he 
 came down from the upper sphere, he saw Amory 
 standing on the same foot, leaning on his tall desk, 
 and contemplating a certain writing which was 
 arranged in sections of four parallel lines, quite 
 unlike any mercantile formula. 
 
 Amory's large blue eyes turned towards Robert 
 with a puzzled look. 
 
 " It doesn't come. Three lines are passable ; 
 the fourth is bad, incorrigible." 
 
 Whereupon lie whipped the sheet of paper into 
 a drawer. Robert was only partially recovered, 
 and he wearily observed, " Mr. Gibbs is late in 
 coming." 
 
 Amory, however, was sailing on his own tack, 
 blown by a. wind which Robert had not felt, and 
 said bluntly, "If you go up to Eaglemont hay- 
 ing, I have a mind to go with you." 
 
 " You go haying ! You'd wilt sooner than the 
 grass, and be glad to crawl under a windrow to 
 get out of the sun." 
 
 " Doesn't your father have help in haying ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ! sometimes. I have always helped 
 him so far ; and sometimes Mary rakes after the 
 cart." 
 
 " Does she, indeed ? Ah, what a pretty idyl ! 
 And haymaking is something so fragrant, grass 
 all dewy, and mixed with sweet red and white 
 clover. And then Mary rakes after the cart ? In 
 a sun-bonnet, of course; and the sun-bonnets, are
 
 16 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 so jolly, like sugar-scoops. Mary must look 
 charming in a sun-bonnet. The scoop would look 
 as if it had been successful." 
 
 Robert meantime was far away. The long and 
 shining lines were drawing at his heart again, and 
 he was thinking of the peachy bloom that glowed 
 and wavered upon cheeks of tea-rose. 
 
 " I suppose I should have to go to church if I 
 went to Eaglemont. It isn't respectable in the 
 country not to go to church. Uncle Solomon and 
 aunt Zeruiah always go, don't they ? " 
 
 "My father and mother never stay away from 
 public worship," said Robert, recalled from his 
 vision. " In haying-time, though we are tired, 
 and would like absolute rest, we go for the sake 
 of example. Father sometimes nods on a hot day 
 before the preacher gets to ' thirteenthly.' " 
 
 " I like your father, Mr. Prescott," said Amory 
 respectfully, " and I must beg pardon for calling 
 him uncle Solomon." 
 
 " Everybody calls him so, though he isn't old." 
 
 "And your mother, too, seems wonderfully 
 good and just; though I wish she" 
 
 " I know what you would say : she has an Old 
 Testament way with her. But the poetry and old- 
 world stateliness of the Hebrew Scriptures seem 
 to have taken possession of her." 
 
 "And Mary well, the young ladies in these 
 hill-towns have sweet and charming manners 
 in a sun-bonnet, raking after a cart" 
 
 The conversation came to a sudden close. As
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 17 
 
 a covey of partridges is hushed when the hawk 
 sails overhead on widespread wings, so the small- 
 talk ceased when the short, heavy step of Mr. 
 Gibbs was heard. All were as diligent as if to 
 enter figures in blank books had been the special 
 end of their creation. 
 
 The junior paused at Robert's desk, and asked 
 if Mr. Prescott had come. Being answered in 
 the negative, he said in an irritating voice, 
 
 " Late. Better attend to business. Need for 
 him." 
 
 Robert and Amory exchanged glances, and 
 went on with their work.
 
 18 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 IT was true, as Mr. Gibbs tersely remarked, that 
 Mr. Prescott was late in getting to business. His 
 breakfast was over ; and he sat in a small room ad- 
 joining the open conservatory windows, smoking a 
 cheroot while he looked over " The Advertiser." 
 The house stood on Mount Vernon Street, fair to 
 the sun ; and the windows would have been flooded 
 with genial light, had not the rich but sombre 
 Egyptian draperies interposed to make a fashiona- 
 ble gloom. 
 
 It was June, and nearly everybody had gone 
 to Nahant, or Newport, or Mount Desert, every- 
 body whom Mrs. Prescott cared to know, but 
 up to this time Mr. Prescott had been unwilling to 
 leave. Madam was seated near by, busy with a 
 pile of soft Berlin wool, that looked as if it were 
 the end of a rainbow that had been tangled in 
 spooling. The air came in from the conservatory, 
 cool, dewy, and fragrant; and the light on the 
 lady's face was flecked with soft green shades. 
 
 Mrs. Prescott was what people call a fine 
 woman, with clear complexion, large humid eyes, 
 and a well-rounded figure, so becoming to a dame 
 of forty-five. Something in her manners and
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 habitual expression testified to her English origin ; 
 and in truth few women of American birth at her 
 age retain such fresh features and elasticity of 
 movement. Her luxuriant, ruddy-brown hair was 
 lightly streaked with gray ; and, while a part of 
 its abundance drooped on both sides of her face, 
 the remaining strands were gathered and coiled 
 above her head, and, with laces and a soft pink 
 ribbon, formed a striking and becoming coiffure. 
 Her husband was a man of near sixty years, of 
 medium height, plainly dressed, but exquisitely 
 neat, and remarkable only for the singular depth 
 and brilliancy of his eyes. His features were sub- 
 dued in expression, a habit formed by steady 
 thought and by the exercise of caution in busi- 
 ness ; but his eyes, and the lines about his mouth, 
 showed at once the quickness of his intellect and 
 the impulsive generosity of his nature. 
 
 " Really, Mr. Prescott, it is time for us to leave 
 town. The summer is coming in earnest, and we 
 can't stay longer." 
 
 " June, my dear, is the finest month in the year 
 in Boston. Just think what a glorious resort the 
 Common would be at this season if it were only 
 in Newport." Here the cheroot was raised to an 
 angle of forty-five degrees, bearing east by south 
 towards the lady. 
 
 " But it isn't in Newport ; and it might as well 
 be built over, for all the good it does us. We 
 can't walk there." 
 
 " And why not, my dear ? "
 
 20 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 " Why, you know the malls are always filled 
 with country cousins, and strollers that have 
 nothing to do, and people that go holding each 
 other's hands; and the seats are occupied with 
 queer, staring couples." There was a shrug or 
 shiver of disgust. 
 
 "Part of the entertainment, my dear. These 
 strange folks make the walks a study. And they 
 can't spoil all the fresh air, nor use all the green 
 shade, nor monopolize the blue sky." 
 
 " No ; but refined people like privacy. These 
 low cads and shop-girls would make the finest 
 park vulgar. No .lady in society is ever seen on 
 the Common, except in crossing to St. Paul's on 
 Sunday morning." 
 
 " So much the worse for them." 
 
 " But truly, Mr. Prescott, can't we go to New- 
 port, or perhaps to Narragansett ? " 
 
 " You can go, my dear." 
 
 " Of course I shall not go without you. Is it 
 business, or what is it, that makes you want to 
 stay after everybody has gone ? " 
 
 " I haven't a doubt that a census would show 
 as many people in Boston now as in winter, per- 
 haps more." 
 
 " You know I don't mean that. Our set makes 
 the world for us, our church, our club." 
 
 "If the population were less by one, and I 
 could name that one, I might go." 
 
 " Is it a riddle ? ' Less by one ! ' What one ? " 
 
 " Gibbs."
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 21 
 
 There was a volume of meaning in his look as 
 he uttered the word. Mrs. Prescott looked at 
 him with a puzzled expression, an expression 
 that soon deepened into pain as she saw in the 
 depths of his clear eyes the strength of his feeling. 
 
 They were silent for a moment ; but swift cur- 
 rents of sympathy, coursed to and fro. After a 
 while he went on, as if talking to himself, 
 
 " Gibbs is a devil-fish skulking at the bottom of 
 the sea. His eye takes in the opportunities, and 
 he has tentacles ready for unwary fish." 
 
 " You frighten me. How can a junior partner 
 harm the head of the house ? " 
 
 " It remains to be seen which of us is the head. 
 If he gets the upper hand, I don't look for any 
 sentiment on his part, nor any forbearance. The 
 interest of Gibbs is all that interests him." 
 
 " So we must lose the summer for the sake of 
 Mr. Gibbs?" 
 
 " / must. I don't intend to be absent a day." 
 
 Mrs. Prescott sat fuming in her feminine way, 
 much like a large spoiled child ; and her husband 
 went on smoking. 
 
 In an alcove connected with the drawing-room, 
 on the opposite side, an alcove of some size, 
 lighted from above, and specially constructed for 
 the grand piano, Phoebe was running over a 
 new song, humming the air at times, and then dis- 
 entangling knotty places in the accompaniment. 
 Tints of rose in the draperies of the alcove cast 
 a warm reflection upon her face ; and her luxuri-
 
 22 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 ant hair showed fine points of light, relieved by 
 deep masses of shade. Her fine soft eyes were 
 fixed on the music, her lips curved apart in her 
 eagerness ; and the exercise of her faculties, and 
 her delight in the composition, were seen in a 
 heightened but still refined glow, and in a rapt 
 expression which painters strive to imitate, but 
 which is never seen in life except as the sign and 
 seal of genius. So she sang and played, by turns, 
 with all her soul. 
 
 Mr. Prescott, as he sat, could see the illumi- 
 nated profile of his darling, although most of the 
 alcove was in a rosy shadow. The music was 
 interrupted now and then, and Phoebe's face 
 would wear a look of impatience. By and by it 
 appeared that the leaves of the song were turned 
 by another. Was it a fancy, or did she once or 
 twice raise her shoulder, with an urgent feminine 
 shrug, as if to be rid of some annoyance ? The 
 leaves were turned again, as if lay some meddle- 
 some hand interfering with her practice. Then 
 once or twice she turned her head as if to hear 
 something, and meanwhile her face showed suc- 
 cessive waves of color. More interruptions fol- 
 lowed ; and soon all the variations in the scale of 
 expression were seen, as if curiosity, vexation, 
 dignity, shrinking, and then terror and anger, 
 animated her in turn. 
 
 Mrs. Prescott had put down her work, and was 
 looking at the plants in the conservatory windows. 
 Mr. Prescott still affected to smoke ; but the che-
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 23 
 
 root soon lost fire, and he chewed the end of it 
 with silent fury, until it became a shapeless wad 
 of tobacco. 
 
 The piano had ceased, and the voice of song 
 also ; but Mr. Prescott saw, rather than heard, 
 Phoebe talking in a low voice, but with an electric 
 energy of manner; and meanwhile her eyes lost 
 their sweet look, and her cheeks grew velvety red. 
 She was no longer a girlish St. Cecilia, but was on 
 the eve of some angry outburst. 
 
 Mr. Prescott, whose senses were sharp, and 
 whose deductions were quick, was at first inclined 
 to blaze out with an oath. But he thought of his 
 wife, and he hated a scene, and therefore restrained 
 himself. He only rose, and yawned audibly, and 
 made some intentional bustle by overturning an 
 ottoman, jarring his chair against the table, and 
 then walking with some energy across the draw- 
 ing-room, as if going to the alcove. 
 
 He did not enter the alcove : it was not neces- 
 sary. Phoebe came out with a swift step, and, 
 half hiding her reddened and tearful face, slipped 
 into the hall, and ran up the front-stairs. The 
 step-son Roderick also came out from the recess, 
 calm and self-possessed, whistling the air of the 
 new song, and, sauntering towards the conserva- 
 tory, took a cheroot, and lighted it. Then with a 
 pleasant nod to his step-father, and a by-by to his 
 mother, the young man crossed over to the hall, 
 selected a fanciful stick, and went out. The most 
 careful observer would have failed to detect any
 
 24 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 sign of compunction, or any consciousness of 
 impropriety. He looked as composed, and void of 
 offence, as a cat just from a cream-pot. 
 
 Mr. Prescott regarded him silently, but not 
 with his usual calmness. On the contrary, his 
 jaws were firmly set ; the full veins showed in his 
 temples ; and his eyes were almost phosphorescent. 
 But he sat down again, smoked rather furiously, 
 and seemed struggling with painful emotions. 
 
 " I wonder how long this is to go on," he said 
 at length, thinking aloud. 
 
 " What is it, my dear ? " asked Mrs. Prescott. 
 
 " Roderick is twenty-five, isn't he ? " 
 
 "Yes: twenty-five last October. You know 
 his birthday is the anniversary of Trafalgar, when 
 his great-grandfather, the admiral" 
 
 "Yes, I remember. But he isn't an admiral, 
 nor on the way to become one. And what he will 
 arrive at is the question." 
 
 Mrs. Prescott looked inquiringly at this abrupt 
 turn. 
 
 " As we have brought him up to do nothing," 
 he went on, " I suppose the best thing we can do 
 now is to get him married off. That is the phrase, 
 I believe, married off, like the periodical sales 
 of surplus live-stock." 
 
 " I hope he will marry some time ; but he is 
 young yet, and he should have his pleasure." 
 
 " Oh, never fear ! he'll have that, married or 
 single. Do you think he has any notion of set- 
 tling down ? "
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 25 
 
 Mrs. Prescott was somewhat embarrassed. For 
 her part, she had decided that her son should 
 marry Phoebe, if she could bring it about; but 
 she did not like to put her thought in words. 
 
 " Since I have adopted him, and he is no longer 
 a Courteney, but Roderick Prescott, I am respon- 
 sible for him ; and I confess that I don't like to 
 see the frivolous period spun out too long. He is 
 a boy no longer." 
 
 " His great-grandfather the admiral was a gay 
 youth too." 
 
 "So I have heard; but a sea-fight sobered 
 him." 
 
 "And made him glorious." 
 
 " Yes, I know. You see, my dear, if I am to 
 have a bout with Gibbs " 
 
 "Must I always hear of that man? Isn't it 
 enough that I give up Newport on his account?" 
 
 "Not at all. I must consider those I have to 
 lug with me. Roderick doesn't count for help. 
 He is among those that have to be carried." 
 
 Mrs. Prescott did not feel at ease. Her hus- 
 band's remarks were barbed arrows in her soul. 
 She did not exactly cry; but her breathing was 
 short, and her color came in pulsing tides. " While 
 you talk of what you have 'to carry,' you are 
 grudging a share for Phcebe too, I suppose?" 
 
 " I grudge nothing to any, neither to Phrebe 
 nor Roderick. Every one, however, has to be con- 
 sidered. And, speaking of Phoebe, what is she 
 doing now ? "
 
 26 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 " She reads Virgil twice a week with your 
 nephew Robert, and she has lessons in music and 
 Italian from Signer Belvedere : that is all." 
 
 " Hm ! Robert is a fine fellow. Belvedere, too, 
 seems a gentleman." 
 
 " Phoebe is wonderfully prudent and self-respect- 
 ing." 
 
 " So I believe," thinking with renewed wrath 
 of the recent scene. 
 
 " I think she is fond of Roderick," this with 
 some caution, in a tentative way. 
 
 " Of Robert, did you say ? " 
 
 " No, my dear : I said she was fond of Roder- 
 ick." 
 
 "Yes, I've no doubt. She ought to be very 
 fond of him." 
 
 "They have been brought up like children 
 together." 
 
 " Yes ; like a terrier and kitten, paw and 
 claw." 
 
 " And I have been thinking" 
 
 " And I too." 
 
 " Ah ! you think Robert should look for a rich 
 wife?" 
 
 "If I live, and struggle through with Gibbs, 
 Phoebe will want nothing. I shall see to that," 
 
 " She is a dear girl." 
 
 " I have said a thousand times she is like my 
 own flesh and blood." 
 
 "And Roderick is not" (apprehensively). 
 
 " No ; but I shall look out for him."
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 27 
 
 The steady look meanwhile was like the sight 
 of a rifleman. Mrs. Prescott could not penetrate 
 her husband's thoughts. All that he had uttered 
 was open and free ; but still she felt there was 
 something in his mind that she could not divine. 
 She shifted the topic of conversation. 
 
 " Don't you think we should make another effort 
 to find out her parentage ? " 
 
 "No, my dear. We should only come upon 
 some good-for-nothing adventurer, who would 
 want to sell her, and, if he could not drive a good 
 bargain, tear her from us. But we have a right to 
 adoj)t her, and in about a year she will be her 
 own mistress. So she reads Virgil with Robert ? 
 Well, she might do worse." 
 
 "I suppose Robert will soon be leaving the 
 office." 
 
 " Probably. His year is about up." 
 
 " I am sorry he doesn't join the church, and be 
 ordained by a bishop, instead of throwing himself 
 away. I can't bear to think of him as a as a 
 sectary. How noble he would look in the robes ! 
 lie has a better figure than father Carl ton. And 
 such a charming spiritual expression ! " 
 
 " Better not let his mother hear you ! Aunt Zer- 
 uiah, as the country people call her, would tear 
 the robes off his back. ' Mark of the Beast ' 
 would be her mildest phrase." 
 
 " I heard of some very unkind words she said 
 because we had the altar candles lighted in our 
 oratory at the solemn music on Good Friday/'
 
 28 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 " Well, it was a little sentimental, wasn't it, to 
 have a string quartet playing dolefully by candle- 
 light, and the family and friends sniffing as if at a 
 funeral?" 
 
 Mrs. Prescott looked a mild reproach. 
 
 " By the by, when Roderick comes in from his 
 walk, ask him to step down and see me before 
 dinner." 
 
 When alone, Mrs. Prescott had plenty to think 
 of. She was anxious for her son, whose hold upon 
 her husband's regard and affection she saw was 
 loosening. She lived chiefly for the graceless 
 youth, and had shielded him often from his step- 
 father's anger. She loved the girl Phoebe too : 
 but it was interest that prompted her to desire her 
 marriage with Roderick; for she felt sure that 
 Phoebe would some day have a good share of Mr. 
 Prescott's property, and it would be so comforta- 
 ble not to let it go out of the family. 
 
 Various reasons had combined to keep the girl 
 in seclusion. She had not been acknowledged as 
 a daughter. She was not a Prescott, nor any thing 
 but " Phoebe." She attended no parties or balls, 
 had no friends among the young ladies who lived 
 in the neighborhood, no confidant nor intimate. 
 Having a quick mind, perhaps more reflective 
 than observant, she lived in an interior world of 
 romance, peopled with great and heroic men as 
 well as beautiful and brilliant women. The only 
 persons of all the living she knew (besides her old 
 foster-mother, Mrs. Maloney) were those of Mr.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 29 
 
 Prescott's family, his nephew (her Latin teacher), 
 and her music-master, Signer Belvedere. These 
 were but few; but they formed Phoebe's world. 
 In such a life the character of each friend becomes 
 momentous. In such a life an ingenuous girl may 
 become frank and outspoken like Miranda, with- 
 out a thought of overstepping the line of delicacy. 
 
 Mrs. Prescott knew little of Phosbe's interior 
 world ; but she was conscious of having neglected 
 a mother's duty towards her, and hoped to make 
 late amends. 
 
 But the chief subject of her thoughts, and the 
 object of her fear and dislike, was her husband's 
 partner Gibbs. This feeling did not arise from 
 any real knowledge of the man : it was only 
 because she saw the success of his schemes would 
 lower the position of her family. And without 
 her establishment, her church, her son, and the 
 Plato Club, the world would be empty, and life 
 not worth living. Gibbs, in this view, was the 
 sum of all evil. Shs was in terror ; and what made 
 it agonizing was the sense of utter helplessness.
 
 30 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 SIGNOR BELVEDERE'S apartments were on the 
 third floor of a fine but old-fashioned house, 
 whose windows opened upon a pleasant vista of 
 grassy slopes and full boughed trees. Two rooms 
 and a closet sufficed for his modest wants. In 
 one was an upright piano in ebony case with gilt 
 ornaments ; in the other a capacious sofa, that 
 might be a bed in disguise. In both rooms there 
 were book-shelves in every nook, and along the 
 base-boards; brackets supported antique casts; 
 pictures, sketches, and prints covered all available 
 spaces upon the walls ; and, instead of curtains, 
 exquisite flowering plants in pots of majolica 
 filled the windows, not wholly obstructing the 
 prospect, but tempering the light by soft green 
 glooms, and filling the air with delicate scents. 
 
 To a stranger the rooms were full of pleasant 
 surprises. Though seemingly devoted to elegant 
 ease, if not to luxury, they contained sufficient for 
 the ministry of common needs. The porcelain 
 stove (a German contrivance) had bright sauce- 
 pans and kettles stored away in its pagoda-like 
 top. In the wall there were panels that swung 
 open when touched, and showed glass and china,
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 31 
 
 silver-ware, and table cutlery. An ottoman in a 
 corner, if examined closely, proved to be both a 
 wash-hand stand, and an ice-chest. Behind rows 
 of books were receptacles for eggs, macaroni, 
 canned mushrooms, truffles, and sweetmeats. A 
 bamboo reclining chair was also a library table, 
 with drawers for stationery and letters. The lit- 
 ter and annoyance which usually attend house- 
 keeping, and which make life odious to sensitive 
 people, were wholly wanting. In short, the rooms, 
 though packed with ingenious contrivances, like a 
 London dressing-case, seemed to the casual visitor 
 to be steeped in the air of delicious idleness. 
 
 Signor Belvedere was above fifty years of age, 
 tall and spare, but active and graceful. He wore 
 a. full white beard, and his iron-gray hair was 
 closely cut around swelling temples ; while above 
 rose his bald head like a dome, a fitting crown 
 for a noble figure. He would have been a vision 
 of antique beauty, but for the large bulbous glasses 
 that shaded his deep-set gray eyes. But not even 
 the glasses could conceal the fire and softness of 
 the orbs, nor the full, dark lashes that fringed 
 them. It may be added that he had the exube- 
 rant feeling and taste of an artist, and the serene 
 manners of a prince. Something of finesse and 
 caution belongs to all the race that produced 
 Macchiavelli, and Signor Belvedere was naturally 
 velvet-footed in movement ; but a more ardent 
 soul than his was never pent in clay. He seemed 
 to have stepped out of a picture of the middle
 
 32 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 ages, at a time when art, poetry, and knightly 
 courtesy were born. 
 
 He had completed his morning toilet, though 
 not without some trouble. The laundress had 
 ironed off a shirt-button, and he was fain to 
 secure the plaits of the bosom, white as snow, and 
 unstarched, with a quaint mosaic brooch. The 
 bit of color showed fairly under the soft waves of 
 his snowy beard. " It is unusual," he said to him- 
 self as he looked in a mirror ; " but it is not-a 
 unbecoming." 
 
 One black silk stocking had a hole in it. " ' A 
 solution of the continuity,' as-a my friend the 
 philosopher would say." He could mend it, if 
 there were time, as he could turn his hand to any 
 thing ; but breakfast was to be accomplished. He 
 took another stocking : that had a hole also ; but 
 luckily, as he observed, after thrusting his thin, 
 nervous hand into it, "the apertures" were "not 
 co-extensive nor co-terminous." So he drew the 
 one long, slender, glossy stocking over the other, 
 triumphant. "In-a my slippers," said he "the 
 hole will not-a show." The slippers of leopard- 
 skin were perhaps incongruous ; for every other 
 part of his costume was black and unobtrusive. 
 
 Opening one of the cupboards, of which the 
 room seemed as full as a stage-scene made ready 
 for a Christmas pantomime, he set a few dishes 
 upon the table. His alcohol lamp was already 
 burning, and there was a supply of boiling water 
 ready to be dashed upon his fragrant coffee,
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 33 
 
 freshly roasted and pounded, and to fill the cod- 
 dler for his eggs. He raised a small slide, fitted 
 in grooves at the end of a wooden tube that 
 inclined forward, and let an egg roll out. He 
 looked at the date pencilled upon the shell, and 
 saw that it was recent; then he let another roll 
 into his hand. By this means every egg in the 
 inclined tube that served for a repository had been 
 turned over, a wise precaution, as every observ- 
 ing housekeeper knows. 
 
 An orange, the two coddled eggs, a roll, and a 
 cup of coffee, a large Sevres cup, furnished 
 him an ample breakfast. It was half-past nine, 
 and time for his pupils. He did not indulge in 
 smoking until after dinner. From the closet he 
 brought a something that looked like a small 
 churn operated by a crank. He put in it the few 
 dishes, poured in hot water, and in a moment the 
 cleansing was accomplished. His fingers were as 
 delicate as a queen's, and his ingenuity had been 
 devoted to saving them from contact either with 
 dirt or hot water. Viands and dishes were put 
 up ; the secret recesses were closed ; the room 
 put off its workaday air, and, but for the faint 
 lingering fumes of coffee, was as odorless as a gal- 
 lery of sculpture. 
 
 There was a slight tap at the door. Signer Bel- 
 vedere rose and opened it, holding it open with 
 stately politeness for his visitor. A tall and beau- 
 tiful girl entered with a light step, and with only 
 a faint smile of greeting.
 
 34 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 " Good-morning, Miss Phaybe. You are quite-a 
 punctual." 
 
 " Yes, professor. I started early ; and, for a lon- 
 ger walk, I came by the path under the lindens. 
 I have been enjoying the fresh air, and I thought 
 I might be late." 
 
 " How oft-en must I request you, my dear 
 youngg lady, not to call-a me ' professor ' ? Ever-y 
 player of guitar, or snapper of castanets, or boxer, 
 or hitter of shoulders, ever-y quack and boot-a- 
 black in this great country, is ' professor.' " 
 
 His speech was rapid and energetic ; but his 
 eyes were corruscating in merry twinkles, and 
 his white teeth glistened under the curves of his 
 mustaches. On her part, there was an evident 
 effort in her politeness and in her assumed cheer- 
 fulness. 
 
 " Pardon me ! " the said. " I spoke without 
 thought : I know better. Yet you are generally 
 called so." 
 
 She was standing by the front-window, as if to 
 turn her countenance away from the light. The 
 brilliant greenery in the window, studded with 
 blossoms, and flecked with sunlight, formed an ap- 
 propriate background for an enchanting picture. 
 This the quick eye of the artist saw ; but there 
 was something in her manner that excited his sur- 
 prise. 
 
 " Take a seat, Miss Phaybe. You are perhaps 
 agitated. It is far from the street, and there are 
 many stairs. Your breath comes with-a difficulty. 
 Please to take a seat."
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 35 
 
 She hesitated ; and her looks, though dark and 
 sad, were inscrutable. The color seemed to 
 heighten even while her teacher was regarding 
 her. 
 
 She was in girlish dress, a light fawn-color 
 with scarlet edges ; but she had never seemed 
 so tall before. She appeared to rise visibly to a 
 stately height as she stood there, so that the 
 rather short skirt began to look out of place. 
 Her full and naturally brilliant eyes were now 
 charged with emotion, but inflamed and tearless. 
 The plain chip hat, and the full shining braids of 
 black hair, did not seem to belong to her : it was 
 as if some queen of tragedy had put on the head- 
 dress of a schoolgirl. This was not the bright 
 and cheerful creature whose coming had always 
 been like a sunbeam. She was persuaded to sit; 
 but she did not remove her hat, and she kept her 
 roll of music in her hand. 
 
 " Some-a thing troubles you, Miss Phaybe," he 
 said. But here he checked himself, with the 
 thought that it was not delicate to invite a young 
 girl's confidence ; and, changing the intended sen- 
 tence, he added, " but we will try the les-son. It 
 is a lovely melody ; and, in the high and pure at- 
 mosphere of Mozart, we will-a forget whatever is 
 annoying." 
 
 " I cannot sing, " she said. It was as if all the 
 sorrows of all her sex had found expression in 
 those three words. Her look was not so melan- 
 choly as it was abstracted, or perhaps indicative 
 of a slowly receding storm of anger,
 
 36 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 Signer Belvedere was puzzled. He opened the 
 piano, ran his fingers lightly over the keys, struck 
 handsful of pathetic minor chords, and then, as if 
 after struggling with them, wrested the secret sor- 
 row, and turned them perforce into new and 
 joyous combinations. Leading up to the melody 
 of the lesson, the piano sang it like a prima donna. 
 It was a call, he thought, that the heart of a singer 
 could not resist. He looked at his pupil with an 
 eloquent interrogation as he was ending the strain ; 
 but she shook her head, and dropped her eyes. 
 
 "I don't know that I shall take lessons at 
 least now. I am going away I must leave my, 
 that is, Mrs. Prescott. I I may have to care 
 for myself, and there will be no money for les- 
 sons." There were no sobs, only the same steady, 
 unreadable looks. 
 
 He left the instrument, and sat down near her, 
 looking at her fixedly but tenderly. "And pray 
 what has happen-ed ? Mistress Prescott loves you 
 like a mother, does she not?" 
 
 " Yes ; Mrs. Prescott is good to me. I ought to 
 like her for mere gratitude, and I do like her. 
 She is kind." 
 
 " She is religious ? " 
 
 " Yes, she is devoted to her church. I suppose 
 you know she has a room with stained-glass win- 
 dows, and religious pictures, and kneeling hassocks 
 for morning and evening prayers, an oratory." 
 
 " Engleesh ! " said the teacher with a comic 
 shrug.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 37 
 
 " I suppose so. You know she was born in 
 England, and has relatives living in Lancashire. 
 If you are much with her, you will hear of her 
 famil}-, especially of her grandfather, the Admiral 
 who fought at Trafalgar." 
 
 This coldly critical tone was quite unusual. 
 Phoebe was naturally affectionate, and inclined to 
 playfulness; and it seemed now as if she were 
 piqued, and seeking reasons to justify her ill tem- 
 per. 
 
 " Mr. Prescott is he not good also ? " 
 
 " The dearest good man that ever lived. He is 
 all goodness. I am sorry for him." 
 
 " You are-a sorry for him, eh?" 
 
 " Yes. His partner is Mr. Gibbs. Do you know 
 him ? I think Mr. Prescott is afraid of him. Mr. 
 Prescott is domestic, and cares little for fashion. 
 And the stepson" 
 
 As she paused, the teacher's eyes wore a keen 
 look. " And-a the stepson ? " 
 
 " The stepson Roderick, who now has the step- 
 father's name, is a person of whom" 
 
 She set her lips firmly, and was silent. 
 
 "And-a the stepson is the person with whom 
 Miss Phaybe is angry ? " 
 
 What she thought was unutterable : what he 
 was the course of the story may show. As he 
 then appeared to her, he was a person for whom 
 she felt something like contempt. His slight and 
 elegant figure was before her, as when, dressed in 
 faultless costume, he was sauntering towards the
 
 38 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 club. She had marked his smiles for people of 
 condition, and his polished indifference or inso- 
 lence to others. She had seen his levity, and his 
 respectful disrespect to his parents ; and she had 
 felt an aversion to any personal contact with him 
 which could be expressed only by inarticulate 
 sounds and by certain urgent feminine adjectives. 
 She believed him a smooth hypocrite, a selfish 
 seeker of pleasure, without conscience or honor. 
 Not that she had cultivated the power of analysis, 
 or could have put in due phrases her view of his 
 character. That was the way he had affected 
 her. 
 
 Her silence was significant, and the teacher 
 made a tack. 
 
 " You have been my pupil, Miss Phaybe, four-a 
 years; is it not so? And before that before 
 you lived with Mistress Prescott where was 
 your home ? " 
 
 " Mrs. Maloney, a washer-woman, brought me 
 up. I do not remember my parents. I have only 
 a faint recollection of the looks of my mother." 
 
 "I shall-a respect Mistress Maloney from this 
 time. There are many noble people of the Irish 
 race, but it is evident that you are not-a one of 
 them. Your figure, your eyes, the contour of your 
 face, your complexion, are more trustworthy as 
 evidence than a register of baptism. The Eng- 
 lish have a blunt but expressive saying, 'Blood 
 will tell.' You have, as I read you, the hair and 
 eyes of an Italian mother, and the height, the
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 39 
 
 erectness, the profile, and the brilliant complexion 
 of an English father. But it-a does not matter. 
 You are a good girl, and my dear, splendid pupil ; 
 and I am proud of you." 
 
 Phoebe's eyes began to grow misty. The con- 
 jectures as to her parentage did not interest her 
 greatly ; as all previous inquiries in her behalf had 
 been baffled, and she had settled into contented 
 ignorance. But her teacher's sudden tenderness 
 touched her. 
 
 " And I shall give you lessons so longg as you 
 will come. If the worst comes, and who but the 
 All-Wise knows what is the worst? you can 
 singg. You will have success. You will capti- 
 vate." Phoebe still meditated. "I suppose," he 
 continued, "that it has lately come to the knowl- 
 edge of some young gentlemen, that you are no 
 longer a tall and large schoolgirl, that you are 
 a young lady, and handsome, a per-son to be 
 lov-ed." 
 
 His tone was airy and pleasant ; but the words 
 brought a- deeper flush to her cheeks. She hastily 
 sought to parry. "I might give lessons to 
 beginners," she said, " or sing in a choir." 
 
 " Ah, that is easy, if you do not-a get married. 
 While you singg, you must give your life to your 
 art. Per-haps you will prefer to marry ? There 
 is a beautiful vista in the future for every young 
 lady, her own especial private vista ; but at the 
 end of ever-y one is a church with a bridal party 
 coming out of it, and she knows who is wearing 
 the orange-blossoms."
 
 40 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 She almost smiled at his raillery, but soon 
 became grave again. " I hope to get something 
 to do, for I must. I cannot stay with Mrs. Pres- 
 cott." 
 
 " Don't be rash, my dear young lady ! We 
 must not-a give the world more to talk about 
 than we can-a help. The stepson Roderigo may 
 be a gay impertinent ; but his mother " 
 
 " It is his mother who schemes for him. If any 
 one were likely to share Mr. Prescott's fortune, as, 
 perhaps, I might, she would try to unite that share 
 with her son's. She has even told me so." It was 
 in a swift, angry way that she spoke, and to her 
 great mortification the moment after. 
 
 " What frankness ! It is-a like the sweet sim- 
 plicity of the golden age ! And so you do not-a 
 love him ? " 
 
 "I detest him more every day. When he did 
 not appear to notice me, I liked him better." 
 
 "And so you have blossom-ed into his-a lord- 
 ship's notice, eh? I am not-a your father con- 
 fessor; but is this all?" 
 
 She thought it was much, and more than 
 enough ; but she did not answer his question. She 
 remembered vividly that her protector's nephew, 
 Robert Prescott, had manifested a most eager 
 interest, not only in her studies but in her welfare, 
 and had seemed bent upon giving himself the sole 
 charge of her future, whether she would or no. 
 Signor Belvedere was riot her father confessor, and 
 she only blushed in silence.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 41 
 
 Signer Belvedere observed her slight confusion, 
 and forbore. But he returned with his fatherly 
 advice. 
 
 "My dear youngg-a lady, it is a very impor- 
 tant step. I beg of you take-a time to think. 
 Do not count on getting new friends like the old 
 ones. A new social status is not always practica- 
 ble, if desirable. There are per-sons now, old 
 fellows, to be sure, who will-a consider your 
 welfare as their own. Remain, I ask you, as a 
 father, I ask you, remain with Mistress Prescott 
 for a few days, a week. I cannot-a say what I 
 will do ; but I will do something. Who knows 
 but the young man Roderigo will go to the war ? 
 All the young fellows are going ; capitanos, colo- 
 nels, in plenty. Perhaps he, too, will march away, 
 vhistling, ' The girl I left behind me.' " 
 
 She did not answer. Her mind was so fixed in 
 the idea of seeking a new home, that her teacher's 
 arguments had no force. No matter at what cost, 
 she must get away. She felt that she could not 
 meet Mrs. Prescott nor her son. But her resolve, 
 like the secret of her disquiet, was kept in her 
 own breast. 
 
 " And what of the other young man, the 
 other Prescott ? I have seen him but once ; but I 
 shall not-a soon forget his picturesque face, his 
 athletic form, his flowing brown hair, and eyes of 
 steel-blue." 
 
 It was still in a light and pleasant tone that he 
 spoke ; but the effect was evident. Phoebe's con-
 
 42 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 fusion was increased ; but in a moment the expres- 
 sion of her eyes visibly softened. 
 
 " He has been a divinity student," she said with 
 some effort, " and he intends to be a missionary." 
 
 "A missionary! in partibus infidelium. And so 
 you don't want to go to Asia, no, nor to Africa, 
 nor yet to convert the heathens of Roma, or of 
 Paris. And perhaps you do not Aspire to be the 
 sposa of a priest at all ? " 
 
 Phrebe struggled with some rising thought, but 
 answered in a mild voice, " Perhaps I shall have a 
 career of my own. I hope to follow my art." 
 
 " Brava ! But I am afraid, after all, you will 
 follow your heart." 
 
 Phoebe laughed : her rigid ill humor had begun 
 to soften. The master rose and went to the piano. 
 Once more he played the chords of Voi che sapete, 
 and looked wistfully at her. She came to his side, 
 and began the song. The unusual excitement had 
 given a new energy to her nerves. Her lovely 
 face was radiant with the heightened feeling. 
 Her breast heaved with deep and sustained respi- 
 rations. Her voice poured out in grand volume, 
 but obedient in every swelling wave to the con- 
 trol of the mind. The phrases were exquisitely 
 marked, and blended into an artistic unity. It 
 was the magnificent utterance of a cultured 
 singer, who, though long trained, had never 
 before put forth her strength, and had never ap- 
 parently been conscious of it. In one step she 
 had reached the pinnacle.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 43 
 
 When she ceased, there was a silence that tin- 
 gled. The master had inadvertently moved side- 
 wise to the sunny window, and was looking at a 
 rare Japanese plant decked with sweet-smelling 
 white blossoms. As he returned with a sprig of 
 glistening leaves and blossoms in his hand, Phoebe 
 noticed that he had furtively put away his hand- 
 kerchief, and that his usually serene features 
 showed the liveliest emotion. A mocking-bird, 
 that up to this time had been good-humoredly pip- 
 ing some simple notes over his seeds, now struck 
 up a brilliant strain, shooting through scales and 
 variations with dazzling rapidity, trilling as if his 
 little heart were throbbing with ecstasy, and then 
 lapsing into tones of delicious languor. It was a 
 gay counterpart of the song, the bird's version 
 of the sentiment against the young prima donna's. 
 
 Signor Belvedere, pointing to the cage with an 
 assumed gallantry (for in his heart he was so en- 
 raptured that his joy was like a pain), exclaimed, 
 " My bird, Miss Phaybe, saves me the necessity of 
 compliment. What I could not utter, his songg 
 has exemplified. It is not to every one that this 
 intelligent feather-ed critic gives his praise. Be- 
 lieve-a me, I never heard bird or damsel singg so 
 before. Wear this little flower, if you will. It 
 will fade ; but I shall not-a forget." He turned 
 his back and whipped out his handkerchief, and 
 then added, "I have something of cold in-a my 
 eyes." 
 
 She was so much affected by his sudden change
 
 44 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 of manner and by the intensity of feeling in his 
 tones, that she could not utter a word of reply. 
 She silently grasped his hand, then flung a kiss to 
 the bird, who was still trilling and caracoling 
 gayly, and lightly stepped down the stairs as if 
 descending from the heavens. 
 
 " She is a good girl," he soliloquized, " and she is 
 an inspir-ed singer, one born to reveal the glory of 
 music to the world." He looked at his watch. 
 It was eleven o'clock. "Two more pupils this 
 morning. Oh the thick ugly voices ! I cannot-a 
 bear them. After that song those notes of an 
 angel ? No. The air is clear. The east wind has 
 blown away the dull odors, and has left a sweet 
 breath in heaven. I will promenade. No more 
 lessons to-day." 
 
 He selected a Malacca stick from the sheaf of 
 fencing-foils suspended over the mantel, put on 
 his invariable black coat, and walked out.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 45 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 ROBERT PRESCOTT in his heart was chiefly a 
 poet. He was devoted to his intended calling, 
 and sincerely religious ; but he looked at religion, 
 as he did at nature, through the medium of imagi- 
 nation ; and with him truth and beauty were har- 
 monized. He had never wrought out a stanza; 
 but duty in any guise to him looked noble, and 
 the world was always a pictured poem. The 
 bright flower of poetry in youth is love ; but 
 before this the severe student had not recognized 
 it. His pupil in Virgil was but lately developed 
 from a tall and rather awkward girl into a magni- 
 ficent woman ; and the amateur grammar-master 
 fancied himself the first to observe the phenome- 
 non. 
 
 There is a spring every year; but when the 
 warm days come, and the poplars have a sheen of 
 silver, and the horse-chestnuts are seen in an 
 emerald haze, when the pear-trees are studded 
 with white clusters, and the apple-trees spread 
 their tops like huge pink bouquets, it seems 
 dways as miraculous as if it were a special display 
 of the Lord of gardens. Year by year, too, these 
 ungainly schoolgirls, with short dresses and long 
 braids, with unshapely arms, and apparently large
 
 46 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 feet, are developed into the roundness, the sweet 
 dignity and grace of young womanhood ; and 
 every one witnesses the change with a new sur- 
 prise. 
 
 Robert Prescott thought from the first that he 
 had never seen a girl that promised to become so 
 fine a woman. She appeared sensible, modest, 
 delicate to a fault, and capable of enthusiasm. 
 Through the year this conviction had grown 
 stronger; and now, at the time of this morning 
 walk, he was conscious of trying to suppress a 
 glowing and all-absorbing passion. 
 
 It is apparently the belief of some that every 
 man when in love loses his intellectual character 
 and power of expression, and that he must neces- 
 sarily stammer out his passion in short pointless 
 sentences, such as the shallow and thoughtless 
 use. It was not so with Robert Prescott. Accus- 
 tomed to silent meditation, animated by one great 
 and absorbing purpose, accustomed to blend all 
 thoughts and delights with the service of God, 
 accustomed, too, to thinking in set phrases, as if 
 framing homilies or prayers, his exuberance of 
 poetry and piety appeared to have been thought 
 out beforehand ; when, in fact, his strong and 
 steady flow of speech was but the fusion of all 
 feelings and ideas in a solemn yet uplifting love 
 of the Divine Being. 
 
 It was not for such a man, when once aroused, 
 to content himself with timid monosyllables in the 
 presence of his beloved. He had broken away
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 47 
 
 from the office of Prescott & Co. by some resist- 
 less impulse, and strode out for a walk. As he 
 neared the Common, the elms seemed to wave him 
 a welcome, and the long brown malls opened invit- 
 ingly. Cool airs played with his hair as he raised 
 his hat under the shade ; and the peace of the blue 
 heaven came through the open-work of leaves. 
 He was mentally putting things in order for a 
 return to his higher duties. The image of his 
 pupil, spelling her way through the Latin lesson, 
 or singing in her grand and natural way, he would 
 not allow himself to contemplate. He compelled 
 himself to think of his preparations and his depart- 
 ure, perhaps- to a foreign land. 
 
 But there was a figure not far distant, moving 
 with a graceful step, and it began to grow famil- 
 iar. Should he turn, and walk the other way ? 
 
 Phoebe, after leaving the master, walked briskly 
 along, her steps keeping time to the inspiring 
 strains that still rang in her ears. She' did not 
 wish to meet the family in such a state of excite- 
 ment, for she knew her cheeks were like blood 
 peaches; and, in truth, the more she thought of 
 it, the idea of returning home at all was insup- 
 portable. She had no definite purpose beyond 
 that of enjoying a walk and of considering what 
 she was to do ; and she entered the Common, and 
 turned into a narrow path that led to a broader 
 mall under old trees veiled in tender green. The 
 birds overhead sang incessantly : it seemed to her 
 that they knew their auditor, and rejoiced in her.
 
 48 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 Sparrows hopped along on either side, looking up 
 at her saucily, and now and then stopping to 
 flutter over a dusty spot as if taking a sand-bath. 
 Nursery-maids with stout arms, and with faces 
 unwriukled by care, were pushing jolly young 
 aristocrats about in perambulators. Pigeons cooed 
 and loitered, or strutted and sidled, and came up 
 fearlessly to get the crumbs which the children 
 threw. But Phosbe met no one whom she knew ; 
 and she enjoyed the luxury of the grateful shade, 
 and the cooling wind upon her still glowing 
 cheeks. If one wishes to be unobserved by the 
 world of fashion, a shady mall among the loveliest 
 sights and most soothing sounds is the safest re- 
 treat. 
 
 She had not brought her meditations to any 
 point, but was still drifting in a sea of revery, 
 when she was aware of a firm, springy step 
 behind her, every moment coming nearer. In- 
 stinctively turning, she saw Robert Prescott. 
 
 Phoebe's look, as she paused for a moment, was 
 unmistakably one of frank surprise and pleasure ; 
 but Robert was disconcerted and unready. The 
 sense of coming difficulties oppressed him. The 
 very sincerity of his respect for womanhood, and 
 the fervor of his hidden affection, made him hesi- 
 tate awkwardly. He had always envied in men 
 of the world their easy and triumphant approach 
 to women, and was vexed with himself that he, 
 who had a right to be unabashed, and frank in 
 manner, in the presence of the best, should never 
 be able to do as he would.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 49 
 
 Hs took off his hat, bowed, and smiled ; but a 
 tutor in " deportment " would have seen much in 
 him to criticise. 
 
 " You come from your lesson, I suppose ? How 
 delightful that I meet you, and on this day, too, 
 when I am about going away from from Bos- 
 ton ! " It was out, though he had just resolved to 
 leave that piece of news till the last. 
 
 She answered with a sweet gravity, 
 
 "Are you going away ? Isn't it sudden ? " 
 
 " Yes, my going is rather sudden ; though I 
 have long intended it." 
 
 " Just think ! I shall miss the last of the ec- 
 logues ! " 
 
 " How happy I should be in parting with you 
 to miss nothing more than the eclogues ! " 
 
 "Oh, surely I didn't mean that I shouldn't 
 miss you too ! You have always been very kind. 
 I thank you very much." 
 
 " I don't deserve the least thanks, if you are 
 thinking of the lessons. It was pure pleasure, 
 and I was wholly selfish. I wish the lessons had 
 been twice as many, and " As he paused to 
 look at her, she cleverly avoided the expected 
 turn of the sentence. 
 
 " Does Mr. Prescott, your uncle, know of your 
 going?" 
 
 " Perhaps not yet. I have just written my res- 
 ignation, and left it on Mr. Gibbs's desk.' 
 
 " They will miss you at the office." 
 
 "In business, Phoebe, no one is missed. Another
 
 50 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 man will sit at my desk. Every thing will go on 
 as before. Among friends the case is different. 
 It is pleasant, and sad too." 
 
 They walked on in silence for a moment. The 
 self-denial he had imposed upon himself began to 
 give way before the rising current of feeling. 
 Hardly knowing what he said, or whither his pas- 
 sion was leading him, while a luminous paleness 
 overspread his face, he faltered out in a helpless 
 way, 
 
 " If I might hope, Phcebe yes, I am sure you 
 must know my secret : I must have told it a thou- 
 sand times as we read together. My eyes have 
 betrayed me, I know, and my voice. O Phoebe ! 
 while I taught you Latin, I was studying a far 
 deeper lesson, a lesson so absorbing, so momen- 
 tous ! A life-time wouldn't be enough. You 
 must have seen it. I have struggled against my 
 feelings in vain. I thought I could be brave ; but 
 . now, with my solemn duty before me, and upon 
 the point of separation, I am the most wretched 
 of mankind." 
 
 He looked at her beseechingly as if he would 
 read her soul, and find there some encouragement. 
 She did not speak. With a still more earnest 
 tone, he went on, 
 
 " If I were thinking of myself alone, I would 
 risk every thing, but the favor of my Divine Mas- 
 ter, for your sake. But I have to consider others. 
 You are the idol of my uncle, and I would not 
 win the heart of his darling without his full con-
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 51 
 
 sent. May I ask him, Phoebe ? With all my soul 
 in my words, may I go to him, and ask his for- 
 giveness for robbing him of you ? " 
 
 The situation was delicate. She could not tell 
 him of the occurrence of the morning, and what 
 was now in her mind ; but she said earnestly, 
 
 "Don't, I beg of you, don't go to Mr. Pres- 
 cott!" 
 
 "But he would not object, not long, if if 
 he knew your happiness were at stake." 
 
 " I cannot say that cannot say that my happi- 
 ness depends upon any one. I am not happy." 
 
 There was a sense of loneliness in the tone. 
 
 " My dear Phcebe, you don't know yourself. If 
 ever woman was" He checked himself. "I 
 mean to say that love and marriage are divinely 
 appointed, and belong of right to the purest souls. 
 Your noble nature will know, must know some 
 time, what it is to love." 
 
 " I don't know how it may be. I haven't thought 
 of it." This in a low and innocent tone. 
 
 " May I not hope that at least I do not repel 
 you, that you would think me deserving in a 
 measure of your affection ? " 
 
 With perfect sincerity she answered slowly, 
 
 " I have not thought of you, not in the way 
 you speak. You do not repel me ; for I respect 
 you, and trust you. I have not thought of any 
 other feeling towards you." 
 
 What she did not say was, that she felt herself 
 at a distance from him; that with her respect
 
 52 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 and trust was blended the reverence due a supe- 
 rior being ; that his powerful mind and high prin- 
 ciples, to say nothing of his grave ways, made him 
 unapproachable ; and, above all, that his chosen 
 profession was associated in her mind with painful 
 solemnities, with the repression of music and 
 natural gayety, and with the shadows of unending 
 gloom. If she thought of him with admiration, it 
 was blended with awe. Now was the moment 
 when the want of sympathy was a barrier almost 
 like that between the seen and the unseen world. 
 
 " And so you look up to me ? " 
 
 "Yes, I must." 
 
 "I might say the same. I have perhaps some 
 gifts that impress you ; but I am very flesh and 
 blood, brother to the humblest ; and, when I see 
 a pure and gentle soul like yours, I look up to 
 it with the longing of a child for a star." 
 
 " You don't do justice to yourself. Your whole 
 life is above mine." 
 
 " This is the inexperience of youth, Phoebe. You 
 are cultivated in your own way. Your feelings 
 are the same." 
 
 " I don't think so. I have often listened to 
 you. You read as no one else does ; and you find 
 what others do not see, even in a sunset. You 
 seem to have a world of your own." 
 
 " This is cruel, to place me on an eminence 
 where I do not belong, and to leave me there 
 alone. If you please, I'd rather come down from 
 the pedestal."
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 53 
 
 Nothing was so stimulating to Robert as the 
 idea of a comparison or of some form of reasoning ; 
 and for the moment his feverish pulse subsided 
 while he endeavored to argue with her about the 
 harmony of different " spheres." 
 
 " Even if I were such a being I won't say 
 such an idol as you set up, should I find my 
 other self in a woman of masculine force and fibre ? 
 Not so, my dear Phoebe. It is a beautiful para- 
 dox the Creator sets before us, that the touch of 
 a gentle girl's finger is as potent as the grip of an 
 athlete. Did you ever read Jonathan Edwards's 
 letter to the young lady whom he afterwards mar- 
 ried ? and you know what a Titan in mind he 
 was. There is nothing more tender, more beau- 
 tiful, even in Shakspeare. It breathes the fra- 
 grance of love, and you seem to see blossoms of 
 poesy springing up among the simple words." 
 
 While Robert was philosophizing, Phoebe's agi- 
 tation had time to subside. She delighted in his 
 talk, except when it took a strong personal turn. 
 She had nothing against clergymen in the pul- 
 pit. The rustle of a black gown, when too near, 
 made her shiver. 
 
 " Perhaps you think me gloomy. I may appear 
 so ; but my thoughts are bright to me ; my soul's 
 horizon is all glorious. I say it with all my heart, 
 only the religious man has the full sense of the 
 loveliness and the poetry of nature ; and it is he 
 who has the highest and least selfish love for 
 woman. Gloomy as you may think me ? I am full
 
 54 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 of rapture, even to be near you. For you are so 
 beautiful as I look at you, your noble head, 
 your sensitive eyes every fibre in me is trem- 
 bling with delight." 
 
 She felt strangely moved by his impassioned 
 manner ; but still with every sentence there was 
 a rustle of the black gown. He, too, felt that he 
 had been sailing on the, wrong tack ; but his strong 
 soul would not mind the helm. He was not 
 urging his suit wholly as a man: though con- 
 scious of the disadvantage, he seemed trying des- 
 perately to carry his theological opinions, his 
 chosen profession, and himself, all together, and 
 win her acceptance of the whole. 
 
 As Phcebe appeared absorbed in contemplating 
 the smooth gravel of the mall, he went on : 
 
 " I often think of the Providence that led me 
 here, and to meet with you, the one I would have 
 chosen from among all living. My leaving off 
 study for a year was a cross ; but now I see it was 
 a blessing. My parents you will go some time 
 to Eaglemont, and see them have toiled and 
 saved and prayed for me, not that I might be rich 
 or great, only for the glory of God. For my suc- 
 cess nothing was considered too great a sacrifice. 
 They were content to live meanly, so that I could 
 be fitted for the ministry. I don't feel worthy of 
 such love." 
 
 It was in a tender, almost pathetic tone he 
 spoke ; and sentence had succeeded sentence as if 
 \& were impelled by some unseen power. But
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 55 
 
 Phoebe still felt no sense of neawess, and mani- 
 fested no wish to reply. He began to think again 
 that such a high and holy strain might not be the 
 means to win the heart of a bright young woman 
 just out of her teens. 
 
 "I don't know that I should repeat these 
 things ; but I can't help it. I seem to be un- 
 twisting the inmost strands of my being; and I 
 find my love for the dear ones, and for you, for 
 you, my darling " (somewhat falteringly spoken), 
 are twined with the greater Love which is given 
 us from on high. There they are, all the strands 
 together. I cannot simply say I love you. I do 
 love you ; but I seem to be held with you in the 
 Almighty arms. 
 
 "Tell me," at length he said, almost despair- 
 ingly, " tell me how I can touch your heart ! I 
 know you are not cold. I am the one at fault. 
 I am the drifting iceberg, bringing a chill into 
 your sunny atmosphere. You have different asso- 
 ciations. God has been for you an awful name 
 perhaps, and you shudder at hearing it, while I am 
 warm in his pervasive light." 
 
 " I don't think I look at things as you do," she 
 said ; " but the Creator does not seem to me an 
 awful being." 
 
 "Even the highest natures differ in their con- 
 ceptions of the Infinite : to some his power is 
 revealed ; to others, his love. Two souls may not 
 have an identical view, but they may yet love 
 each other fervently. But why can't we drop
 
 56 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 theology? and let me say once more, 'I love 
 you.'" 
 
 She had been quite willing that theology should 
 be dropped, but not desirous to hear his confession 
 over again. 
 
 " I can't help thinking of one thing," she said 
 with some hesitation. " I think of the future, 
 yours and mine. I can't think the Creator is less 
 pleased to hear me sing than to hear the birds." 
 
 " Surely not. Music in itself is pure, refining, 
 ennobling. But I want you first to feel an in- 
 terest in me ; and, if you think my purpose holy, 
 you would have an interest in that too. But 
 I don't even press that now. I want first your 
 love. I will leave the future to take care of itself 
 under the guidance of Divine Wisdom. Believe 
 me, Phoebe, I could die for you. ' Greater love 
 hath no man than this, to lay down his life for his 
 friend.' You see, I can't help quoting Scripture." 
 
 "But I don't want any one to die for me," she 
 answered with a faint smile. " If I ever have a 
 lover, I want him to live for me." 
 
 "My dearest, I cannot give you up. I wish I 
 could show you my heart of heart : it has but one 
 image, except my blessed Lord's. Every thing 
 about you suggests beauty and perfume and good- 
 ness. I have seen you visibly blooming like a 
 rosebud. I love you. I have never felt the 
 thrill before, and it can never come again." 
 
 " I wish I could thank you. I hope I am grate- 
 ful ; but love, they say, comes unbidden. If I
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 57 
 
 don't love you, how can I ? " She felt a little 
 twinge here, as if this were an unmaidenly ex- 
 pression ; but he had pressed her sorely, and she 
 was driven to frankness. She did not wait for 
 him to reply, but continued, 
 
 " I beg of you, don't urge me ! While I listen, 
 I am a bundle of feelings ; but that must pass. I 
 must be myself. I should be miserable as a cler- 
 gyman's wife. You almost take away my breath ; 
 you are so earnest; but I fear that you are your- 
 self the reason I don't love you." 
 
 "But in time you would sympathize with me, 
 and have the same joy that I do." 
 
 "I don't know. But, Mr. Prescott, this is 
 hardly fair, is it ? I mean, it is not kind to con- 
 tinue this. It is hard to bear." 
 
 Hitherto she had walked slowly, generally with 
 her eyes fixed on the ground, and had spoken in 
 low and tremulous tones. Now that she had be- 
 gun to make a more active resistance, or self-asser- 
 tion, she raised her head, and, for the first time in 
 her life, confronted the tall lover with something 
 of a courage like his own. 
 
 " Did you ever think," she continued, " that I 
 may have my own necessity, and perhaps my aspi- 
 ration? that I might have the feelings of an 
 artist, and that I may become a public singer? 
 While you were attending a prayer-meeting, I 
 might be on the stage of the concert-hall or 
 opera." 
 
 His countenance fell. She saw her advantage.
 
 58 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 "My teacher has praised me this morning, 
 praised me to vanity, perhaps, and I feel sure I 
 shall sing. I may have to earn my own living." 
 
 " Why, you couldn't think of it ! You surely 
 will never leave my uncle ? " 
 
 " I am sorry to say it ; but I think I shall try to 
 find another home. Even if I stay, I might be 
 unwilling to give up my ideal. You would feel 
 pained, would you not, if any one were to ask 
 such a thing of you? It would be as if your 
 father and mother, and your sweet sister, had 
 lived for you in vain." 
 
 This was a new view. In the conception of 
 two beings becoming gradually alike in thought 
 and life, it is generally the woman that is expected 
 to assimilate. The young man tried to think how 
 it would look for him to give up the ministry to 
 become the husband of an opera-singer. It was 
 dreadful. In all his previous meditations, if there 
 had been any moulding to be done, woman repre- 
 sented the clay, and man the potter. 
 
 It was with a great gasp that Prescott said, " I 
 see the gulf between us. I have already said too 
 much. I had hoped your feelings would change ; 
 but I see that cannot be. I shall go into the Mas- 
 ter's field ; but I shall go alone. Birth and death, 
 and a love like mine, happen but once. Fare- 
 well!" 
 
 " Don't ! " she said eagerly, " don't say those 
 despairing words. You will be happy, as you 
 deserve to be."
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 59 
 
 His face resumed its solemn expression, but 
 seemed to be illumined by an inward light. His 
 voice faltered. "Do not leave my uncle," he 
 said : " you have a home with those who love you. 
 As a singer, and among strangers, I dread to 
 think what may happen, what indignity you 
 may suffer." 
 
 " One may suffer indignity anywhere." 
 
 The words brought an explosion like a thunder- 
 bolt. " What ! Roderick ? Has he dared " 
 
 She felt her head droop, partly in regret that 
 she had allowed such a hint to escape. " I beg 
 you, be silent," she said. 
 
 " Infamous, silken reprobate ! " he continued, 
 grinding his teeth. " But perhaps he will get a 
 commission, and go to the war: I have heard it 
 intimated. But I pray you, don't leave my uncle. 
 He doats on you, depends on your love. I don't 
 know what the future is to bring forth; but I 
 have misgivings. I suspect and fear Gibbs. I am 
 afraid the time is near when uncle will need the 
 aid and sympathy of all who love him. Sing, my 
 dear Phoebe, if you must, but don't leave him." 
 Here he halted for a moment. 
 
 " You just now said ' Farewell.' You are not 
 going to leave at once ? " 
 
 " Yes, at once. We have rambled wide ; but 
 here is the end of our path. Here I must leave 
 you forever. Pardon me if I don't come to the 
 house to say good-by. I shall drop out of the city 
 quietly, and be forgotten." With a sudden rush
 
 60 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 of emotion he said, " May the great Father of us 
 all have you in his hoty keeping ! May your 
 heart be always like a lily in his sight ! God in 
 heaven bless you ! " 
 
 It was like the invocation of a saint. His eyes 
 were tearless, but unspeakably tender, and the 
 glowing light came again to his face as he turned 
 away. 
 
 A sensation almost of awe fell upon her as she 
 heard his parting blessing, and saw his rapt soul 
 in his eyes ; and she exclaimed, half aloud, " Oh ! 
 why could I not love that noble man ? "
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 61 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 IF Phoebe had lingered, she would have seen 
 on the mall two persons in earnest conversation, 
 whose meeting at such an hour, and away from the 
 business quarter, would have given her cause for 
 thought. Hugh Prescott, her kind protector, and 
 his stepson Roderick, were slowly pacing the walk. 
 The elder walked slowly, as if carrying some un- 
 usual burden. Of the young man some hint has 
 already been given. He was a pattern of the 
 reigning mode in dress and manner. Elegance 
 and an air of studied indifference were plainly 
 visible in his features and carriage. The conver- 
 sation was a long one, and it need not be wholly 
 reproduced. It covered the usual topics of dis- 
 cussion between rich parents and prodigal sons ; 
 such as horses, billiards, clothes, jewelry, wines, 
 cigars, clubs, and accommodation notes. The 
 elder was vehement : the younger was provok- 
 ingly cool. The elder wished the yo uth to know 
 that "the last straw" was not a fabulous growth, 
 but an actual entity : the younger, who had passed 
 through many similar crises, believed that his 
 mother would bring the enraged step-father round, 
 as she had often done before. He made vague
 
 62 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 promises of amendment : but the father put no 
 faith in him ; he felt that the youth could be 
 pinned to nothing ; it was time that he should 
 know the worst. 
 
 " Roderick," said the elder with a deep and 
 earnest tone, " I blame myself greatly for what 
 you are. You are an aimless boy, without fixed 
 principle, or sense of responsibility, without useful 
 education, and contributing nothing to the world, 
 not even a good example." 
 
 " Fruges consumere natus," interposed the youth, 
 with a satisfied smile. 
 
 "I am glad you remember three words of 
 Latin," said the father sharply. " I wish I had 
 put you in the counting-room, given you a moder- 
 ate salary, and made you live on it. The time 
 has come when you might have been of use. You 
 have naturally good parts, and I need help. I 
 am pressed to the wall. But you, you are a 
 butterfly ; and I need a man with energy, soul, 
 stability." 
 
 There was something in the tone of this speech 
 that awakened the young man's curiosity, and 
 repressed the gibe that he was about to utter. 
 
 " Yes," continued Mr. Prescott, " if you had been 
 trained to business, and had given to it half the 
 zeal you have wasted on extravagances, you might 
 perhaps even now do something." 
 
 The young man remained silent ; and the elder 
 went on : 
 
 " I took Mr. Gibbs as a partner, because he had
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 63 
 
 shown ability as a business man, and because I 
 thought that gratitude, if nothing more, would 
 attach him to my interest. I took him, without 
 capital, fifteen years ago. To-day he has three 
 hundred thousand dollars ; and I I hate to say 
 what I have. You have spent a mint of money. 
 And your mother well, I won't reproach her : 
 she thought my purse had no bottom. She spent 
 for flowers alone, for that last reception, nearly a 
 thousand dollars ; and next day I had to go, hat 
 in hand, to a bank director to have a note 
 extended. What the clergy manage to get out of 
 her for charity, I groan to think of. Our house 
 is the resort of professors, foreign celebrities, un- 
 settled preachers, and the talkers of the Plato Club. 
 But all things have an end. We have spent our 
 income, and more too. It has come to me through 
 my nephew, and, by the by, I am sorry such a 
 level-headed young man is going to be a preacher, 
 it has come to me that Gibbs, who has long 
 been secretly plotting to get me ur,der his thumb, 
 has been intriguing with the corporations owning 
 the mills, whose accounts we have, and expects 
 to force me out, and be himself the sole agent. 
 This he will do, when he is ready, by demanding 
 that the partnership cease, and calling on me to 
 buy or sell. He thinks I can't buy ; and, as mat- 
 ters now look, I surely can't. The result will be 
 that I shall have to retire, an old man without 
 business, without capital, the husband of a once 
 fashionable lady, and the father of a prodigal 
 son."
 
 64 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 Roderick hoped the matter was not quite so 
 serious. Mr. Prescott went on : 
 
 " It is just so serious. The information my 
 nephew gives me, though only vague as to details, 
 tallies exactly with the observations of Amory 
 the clerk, an honest though scatter-brained fellow, 
 and explains some cautious suggestions I have 
 had from friends in the business. In short, Roder- 
 ick, my ruin, your ruin, the ruin of the family, is 
 near at hand. For myself I have a little place in 
 the town where I was born, not far from my broth- 
 er's farm on the old hill in Eaglemont. I can live 
 there. But your mother ? and you ? Now, while 
 I have the money, I offer you a draft of five hun- 
 dred pounds to go to Europe with, or," he con- 
 tinued hesitatingly, " if you should want to go to 
 the war, mind, I don't advise it: God knows 
 I would not put you in the way of a rebel bullet, 
 not half so soon as I would risk it for myself. 
 But many of your set have gone ; and, if you do 
 want to go, I will get you a commission, that is, 
 if I can, and give you a handsome outfit. I 
 don't want to have you here walking about, or tap- 
 ping your boots with a Malacca cane, when I have 
 to suspend payment. I wish you to make your 
 choice. You can go up to Eaglemont (the house 
 shall be your mother's, and I will furnish it 
 comfortably) ; you can take your five hundred 
 pounds, and go abroad ; or, if you feel inclined, 
 freely and without any urging of mine, to volun- 
 teer, that course is open to you. But something 
 is to be done at once."
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 65 
 
 " I will volunteer," said Roderick suddenly. 
 
 " God bless you ! " said the father, with a dash 
 of emotion. "You have the pluck of the old 
 admiral, your mother's grandfather. I will see 
 the governor at once, and get you a commission." 
 
 But here Mr. Prescott's face assumed a serious 
 look : his eyes began to glow, and his breath came 
 fast. 
 
 "There is one matter which I must speak of ; 
 but it wrings my heart. I am deeply pained to 
 confront you : I would rather lose all I am worth. 
 While it was doubtful what your decision would 
 be, I would not bring it up. I would not use this 
 this wickedness that I suspect you of I would 
 not use it as a weapon against you, to force you 
 away, to expose you to danger. But when you 
 manfully accepted, when you showed that you had 
 some good stuff in you, I thought I must say 
 it must give you a warning, I will call it, in 
 place of an accusation. For it is something 
 that touches the very core of my heart. I mean 
 Phoebe, my darling, my pride. This morning I 
 saw you saw something that staggered me. 
 Your manner was gay and off-hand ; but it did not 
 deceive me. The girl has beauty and modesty ; 
 but she is a woman, and has a heart. You were 
 trifling with her. What you said, God only 
 knows. I don't inquire : I don't wish to know. I 
 know what you did, and that you made the quick 
 color come in her cheeks, made her eyes drop 
 in shamefacedness, continued your advances or
 
 66 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 innuendoes, or whatever they were, until she rose 
 in wrath, until she cast upon you the swift glances 
 of anger, of mortified, insulted, indignant virtue, 
 and rushed away. I saw it all, sir. I cannot be 
 mistaken. I fear to lose her. I fear you have 
 outraged her feelings so that she will leave us. 
 And this, sir, was the one strong, irresistible 
 motive I had to separate you from the sweet girl 
 whose tender feelings you have injured. All I 
 have said about my affairs is true to the letter ; 
 but if I had millions I should require you for the 
 present to live elsewhere. A man of my age and 
 standing, sir, does not permit a dependent woman, 
 either of high or low degree, to be trifled with, if 
 he knows it." 
 
 All this invective came like the torrent that 
 rolls down the valley when a dam gives way. 
 The stepson could do no less than quail before the 
 angry looks and vehement reproaches. He tried 
 to excuse himself, insisted that his conduct was 
 misunderstood, and that he meant no dishonor. 
 
 " I take you at your word," said Mr. Prescott 
 stoutly. " You meant no dishonor. Then tell 
 her so, in the words and with the deference of a 
 gentleman. You are going away : let the girl and 
 your mother and myself have cause to think kindly 
 of you. You are to be a soldier: be without re- 
 proach, as without fear. God knows I wouldn't 
 be rough to my wife's only son. Let us be united 
 in feeling at home. The outside world has trials 
 enough for us without these."
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 67 
 
 "I will apologize to Phoebe, and with all due 
 deference," said Roderick earnestly. 
 
 " Do it, my dear boy, and make me happy. I 
 must leave you : I have an appointment with 
 Gibbs." 
 
 If Roderick was not the darling his mother 
 thought him, he surely was not quite the villain 
 that Phoebe supposed. As his step-father had inti- 
 mated, his useless life and indefensible conduct 
 were in a great measure owing to his neglected 
 education and to the absence of good influences. 
 He had associated solely with young men who had 
 no duties to perform, and no responsibilities to 
 bear. In their company he had learned the flip- 
 pant speech and supercilious manners that mark 
 fops and profligates. The dignity of labor, the 
 worth of character, the virtue of man and of 
 woman, the duty owing to society, these were 
 topics never mentioned in his set, except with 
 gibes and laughter. 
 
 So Roderick had grown up, ignorant of every 
 thing useful, familiar only with elegance, learned 
 in club amusements and etiquette, wearing the 
 cool manners of old reprobates and young dandies, 
 regarding his mother as a person to be flattered 
 and cozened, and his step-father as one to be 
 treated with just enough respect to secure the 
 regular allowance. As for Phoebe, he had never be- 
 stowed upon her a thought, any more than upon a 
 pretty servant-maid, not, at least, until her dawn- 
 ing beauty had given some emphasis to his moth-
 
 68 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 er's prudent suggestions. Then he began to 
 notice her, to admire her in his lawless fashion, 
 and to delight in bringing blushes to her cheeks. 
 
 He was a tolerably worthless person as he stood ; 
 but he was not without some good impulses, and 
 it would have been possible even then to make 
 him an honest and reputable member of society. 
 But his mother was occupied with her visiting- 
 list, her church, her oratory, and the Plato Club ; 
 and she did not know that she was rearing a pol- 
 ished heathen in her own house. Roderick be- 
 haved well at table, was never drunk, in her 
 sight, went to church with her on Sunday morn- 
 ings, and performed well his butterfly parts in the 
 refined circles which made her heaven upon earth. 
 That was all she knew. 
 
 She was ignorant as yet of his conduct towards 
 the orphan under her charge. She had come to 
 admire the girl, and, as we have seen, had set her 
 heart upon her marriage with Roderick. She 
 supposed that the young Sultan had only to throw 
 his handkerchief ; for, of course, no girl in any sta- 
 tion would think of refusing an offer from a young 
 man with such personal and social advantages. 
 
 Now Roderick must let his mother know that he 
 had not only got a deserved repulse, but had for- 
 feited the girl's respect, and, moreover, that he was 
 going to join a regiment for active service. It 
 was a sad message he had to carry. The situation 
 sobered him, and set him to thinking of various 
 practical matters in new lights.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 69 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 ROBERT walked swiftly at first, but soon short- 
 ened his steps, and, with bowed head and bent 
 shoulders, slowly traversed the malls, making a 
 long circuit, and returning without premeditation 
 to the place where he had parted with Phoebe. 
 The uprooted tree floating in the current of a 
 river, when it reaches the broad and deep eddy 
 where the black water lazily circles, yields to the 
 force, and all day describes its planetary orbit, 
 rushing down on one curve to be swept slowly 
 back on the opposite one. Robert's mind was 
 such a whirlpool, deep and uncontrollable ; and 
 upon it floated the flower of his love plucked up 
 by the roots. Still swept the black eddy ; and, 
 though the contemplation was maddening, he 
 could not for one moment free himself. It was 
 as if a requiem were chanted in the recesses of his 
 brain, mournful chords that never would modu- 
 late, melodies like the wail of a mother over 
 her first-born, and all blended in a never-ending, 
 always-beginning movement. 
 
 While in this mood, he was unconscious of the 
 lapse of time, of his own surroundings, of bodily 
 wants, and of the presence of mankind; but he
 
 70 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 was made aware of companionship in his walk. 
 Roderick, fresh from the meeting with his step- 
 father, and at once sobered and softened in feel- 
 ing and manner, came up with Robert, and 
 touched him lightly on his arm. Robert's eyes 
 while in repose had something of the vague and 
 wonderful depth which elderly people remember 
 in the look of Webster. They were contem- 
 plative, humorous, or tender, by turns ; but in 
 moments of excitement they blazed with an intol- 
 erably fierce lustre. For one instant the habitual 
 deep and melancholy expression was' turned upon 
 the new-comer ; then, as the parting came to mind, 
 and the terrible hints given by Phoebe were re- 
 called, and it became evident that this was the 
 sleek beast of prey that she was fleeing from, the 
 fierceness shone like an electric flash. 
 
 " Is it YOU ? " he said. They were simple 
 words ; but Roderick probably never forgot them, 
 nor the look and the tone that accompanied them. 
 
 The glance was like flashing a sudden light 
 upon a burglar, and the tone was contempt, wrath, 
 and defiance. It was certainly more like the 
 spirit of the pugnacious Peter than of the gentle 
 John. There was still a good deal of the "old 
 Adam " in this young Christian. 
 
 Practised man of the world as he was, Roderick 
 was surprised, stunned ; but policy and inclination 
 combined to make him patient. " Why, Robert, 
 Mr. Prescott, I should say, you go off like a 
 torpedo ! We have been friends. Can't we re- 
 main so ? "
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 71 
 
 " A torpedo isn't intended to hoist its friends," 
 said Robert coldly and deliberately. 
 
 " Then let us see why we are not friends." 
 
 " I cannot be a friend to one who would sully 
 maiden innocence." 
 
 Roderick felt the thrust, and began wondering 
 how his rough and luckless wooing had been 
 noised abroad. Not by his step-father, certainly 
 not; his mother did not know it: then by the 
 girl herself! The process of reasoning was short; 
 or rather conscience, like lightning, ran over the 
 lines to the inevitable conclusion. 
 
 Roderick had the power of thinking on his 
 legs ; or rather his natural sprightliness played in 
 the inner chamber of thought a kind of running 
 accompaniment to his speech. Even as he began 
 his excuses and deprecatory exclamations, his mind 
 was darting back, and making wonderfully acute 
 deductions as to the meaning and implication of 
 the confidence between a rather sedate young 
 preacher, and a tender, shy, and thoroughly mod- 
 est girl, such as he knew Phoebe to be ; a confi- 
 dence, too, that admitted the possible mention or 
 the hint of an indelicacy. The intimacy was cer- 
 tain ; and the fact was not calculated to inspire 
 courage, or fluency of speech. 
 
 When Robert launched his arrow, he had paused, 
 and was leaning against a tree, throwing out mean- 
 while the light of his steel-blue eyes. Roderick 
 was determined not to be angry, but to stand on 
 guard, to parry, and at last to palliate and belittle
 
 72 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 the offence. So, without wincing, he exclaimed, 
 " As a general principle nothing could be more 
 correct. Your friend could not sully maiden inno- 
 cence." 
 
 "But haven't you attempted it? " 
 
 There was a dangerous directness about this 
 man. 
 
 " By no means. I, a destroyer of innocence ! 
 On my soul, no ! Pardon me, you are a clergy- 
 man, or soon to be ; and I am not, and must 
 speak in the way of the world that is not over 
 nice. I don't pretend to have been a Joseph." 
 
 " I believe you have not been." 
 
 " But don't wear that awful frown. You look 
 like a prosecuting attorney harpooning a lying 
 witness. I am not the criminal you think." 
 
 "Have you not driven a friendless girl from 
 your father's house and your mother's protection 
 by your shameful treatment ? " 
 
 " Not that I know of. Of course you mean 
 Pho3be, a young lady that I am very fond of, 
 one that my mother loves as her own daughter. 
 And, with the feelings I entertain, I shouldn't be 
 very likely to attack rudely the lady I hope to 
 marry." 
 
 During the last sentence, which was uttered 
 more slowly, the " harpooning " was done by the 
 other party. Roderick watched the effect of his 
 stroke, and was pleased to see that it touched a 
 vital point in his adversary. All the poetry, 
 purity, affection, and pride in Robert's strong
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 73 
 
 nature, rallied for the defence of Phoebe against 
 this monstrous claim. Though lost to him for- 
 ever, the thought of her in the arms of this rival 
 was worse than the doom of Jephthah's daughter. 
 
 " You" exclaimed he in a sudden fury, ''you 
 to win the heart of an angel like her ! She is a 
 lily ; and your hands are foul. She has a soul ; 
 and your heart is a void. If all the world con- 
 spired with you, God himself would interfere to 
 prevent the unnatural union." 
 
 " You preachers have a comfortable way of keep- 
 ing God as a kind of reserve-corps. But you will 
 have to fight your own battles without divine aid. 
 You know you can't win the girl, and I assure you 
 I will. We can at least understand each other. 
 Let me add that a pint of wine at a late breakfast 
 sometimes makes the blood a little unruly: that 
 is all. I was a little hasty. I don't mind saying 
 it, since you know so much. But a woman easily 
 forgives an impulse which her beauty provokes. 
 Don't be uneasy about me. I will make it all 
 smooth. I should like to be friendly with you. 
 I have not known you as a rival. I did not know 
 that you felt called upon to defend the lady's 
 honor." 
 
 Give Roderick time enough, and he would talk 
 down even Satan. He had flanked the adversary, 
 but now feared he had pushed his triumph too far, 
 and he hastened to conciliate. 
 
 Robert was drawing deep breaths, and was con- 
 templating the easy escape of his wily foe. His
 
 74 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 strong convictions were unchanged. He did not 
 regard what Roderick said, and he did not care 
 much for what he did ; but his whole soul ab- 
 horred what he believed Roderick was. 
 
 " You make a very plausible statement. You 
 are not deficient in tact and cunning. I have my 
 opinion, nevertheless. As you say, I may not win 
 the girl; but I pray devoutly she may be deliv- 
 ered from you." 
 
 "Don't trouble yourself about me. I don't 
 need your prayers, nor does Phoebe. I shall 
 shake off the habits of a man about town ; and 
 when I come back all new, with a star or two on 
 my shoulders, we shall see. Girls are not impla- 
 cable. Let us see, is it to India you are going ? " 
 
 Robert would have been puzzled to explain his 
 sensations. Physical violence was not to be 
 thought of. Christian meekness was quite out of 
 place. He simply drew himself up, and replied, 
 " My intentions, I believe, do not concern you. 
 I shall go where duty leads me." 
 
 " Quite sorry to leave you under such a cloud ; 
 but it would be cowardly not to let you know my 
 aspirations. I could sneak in, you know, and cap- 
 ture the girl without fair warning, especially as 
 you had shown your hand. I bear no malice. 
 You'll think better of me when you know me. 
 And so you won't shake hands ? Well, I for one 
 won't be uncivil. You have my best wishes in 
 every matter except one." 
 
 Roderick walked off with almost all his old
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 75 
 
 gayety, leaving his rival fixed to the spot where he 
 stood, and full of the most maddening reflections. 
 Robert had yet to learn that the fine-spun theo- 
 ries of poets and ethical philosophers with regard 
 to the triumph of truth and sincerity are delusive. 
 The habitually false, who have the art of making 
 the worse appear the better, get along quite as 
 well in the world. As the high souls are uncom- 
 mon, and as people in general know nothing of 
 the absolute purity of such characters, their simple 
 and direct speech is regarded as an affectation. 
 Men do not credit the existence in others of a 
 higher standard of truth than their own. There- 
 fore the plausible insincerities of Roderick were as 
 likely to gain credence as the unswerving nobility 
 of Robert. The rigid virtue that could not accom- 
 modate itself to the sinuosities of Mr. Gibbs, and 
 give a fair outside to lies in trade, was only 
 mocked at. Even Mr. Prescott the senior proba- 
 bly considered his nephew squeamish. But no 
 one, probably, not even the sorely-tried Phoebe, 
 could understand the grand self-truth which 
 would not allow of any wavering from duty to 
 gain the prize more coveted than any object this 
 side of heaven. 
 
 From the hated world of business as repre- 
 sented by Gibbs, from the false social world of 
 which Roderick was a type, and from the unap- 
 preciative soul of the girl he had chosen, Robert 
 turned away to commune with himself and his 
 Creator.
 
 76 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 Roderick went to his usual haunts, to the 
 Minerva Library to see what new novel had come 
 out, to the hotel where out-of-town friends called, 
 and, lastly, to his luxurious club, the Arlington. 
 There, among kindred spirits, the affairs of the 
 day were talked over, and the military news was 
 discussed. It is but just to say that he seemed 
 to have a more earnest tone, a sounder fibre in 
 him, and a sobriety of judgment that was vastly 
 to his credit. He met returned officers, some 
 wounded, some invalids, and the incidents of the 
 service were discussed. It was soon known that 
 he was going to have a commission in a regiment, 
 a regiment of blacks ; and the ordinary banter 
 was hushed. He was becoming a hero. He saw 
 it in the eyes of his friends, and the conscious- 
 ness re-acted upon himself. He was steadied by 
 thought of the weight he was to carry. But still 
 his thoughts often returned to the fair girl; and he 
 wondered, if, after all, he would carry out his 
 plans. 
 
 " Who knows a woman's wild caprice? "
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 77 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 IF Mr. Gibbs was not in a good humor when 
 he went out, he was still more grim on his return ; 
 for, on going to his desk in his private room, he 
 picked up a letter, and read the resignation of 
 Robert Prescott. " Humph ! " said he, running 
 over the lines, "resume my theological hm 
 business wearisome ; will settle with my uncle ; 
 expect to go abroad hm canting fool!" He 
 tore the letter to shreds, and put them in the 
 waste-basket. 
 
 It was not the gracious air he wore when he 
 entered his " swell " church, or when, arm in arm 
 with a man who had a grandfather, he walked 
 through the fashionable streets. He mused : " So 
 young Prescott has gone. Well, he had brains, 
 and wrote for us in a style that did credit to the 
 house ; but too honest, too squeamish. Letters 
 needn't be honest : they should only seem so. 
 Prescott wouldn't swerve a hair. Troublesome. 
 Wanted always to tell the whole. Bad to show 
 your whole hand. One card at a time ; let your 
 adversary play to that. Time enough then to play 
 another. But I wonder who will take his place ? 
 Shall I try Scraggs ? No : he owes me on a mort-
 
 78 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 gage ; mustn't let him get too near ; couldn't 
 squeeze him if there was any intimacy. Dobson ? 
 No : he is too sharp. If he got any points in the 
 business, he'd use 'em for himself. Borie ? No : 
 he goes out for a cocktail at twelve. Cocktails 
 are for after-hours, and at the club. Amory? 
 Yes, Amory: why not? He is vain; but he 
 writes well. Honest ? yes ; and not so sharp as 
 to make his honesty a thorn." 
 
 Mr. Gibbs went out towards Amory's desk, and 
 motioned to him. Amory shivered. The truth 
 was, he was ambitious to shine as an author ; and, 
 though he had never neglected his duties as clerk, 
 his desk contained no end of sonnets, epigrams, 
 and couplets in various stages of evolution, 
 besides (if the truth must be told) a variety of 
 studies for advertisements, a species of composi- 
 tion which the prudent youth found more profita- 
 ble than writing verses gratis for the newspapers. 
 He feared that his secret delights had been 
 observed, and that he was now about to get a 
 raking. Moreover, he had been absent two after- 
 noons a week, for some time, on his own business, 
 without formal leave, although he believed that 
 Mr. Prescott had either sanctioned his absence, 
 or condoned the offence. Amory felt much like 
 a schoolboy summoned to the master's private 
 room ; but Mr. Gibbs had been considering his 
 policy, and was almost cheerful in his greeting. 
 He even motioned to his clerk to sit, an un- 
 precedented condescension. Full of wonder, 
 Amory seated himself, and waited.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 79 
 
 " Well," said the great man, " strange things 
 are happeiiin'. Robert Prescott's gone." 
 
 The clerk nodded. 
 
 " Goin' to preach ; goin' to the heathen hm. 
 Boston's good 'nough place for me." 
 
 No reply appeared to be called for to such a self- 
 evident statement. 
 
 " I sh'd like to travel, though. Went to Yerrop 
 once, about twenty years ago. Was hauled about 
 to see ol buildin's, all out of repair, rickety 
 from top-ston to under-pinnin'. If I go again, I 
 sh'd try to enjoy myself, go to the operer, hear 
 music, and see the people. The Bible says the 
 proper study of mankind is men and Avomen. 
 They ain't heathen, though, them broonets in 
 the Hague and Brussels ! Silky hair, like corn- 
 silk, skins that show the blood clear through, 
 an' pale blue eyes, them s my colors. The 
 women in Italy with rhubarb complexions, and 
 eyes like great blackberries, make you think of 
 the pictures by Michel Anglosaxon. Too much 
 development. Didn't like 'em, pictures nor 
 women." 
 
 As Mr. Gibbs was never to be corrected, not 
 even when he made 2 -f- 2 = 5, Amory did not 
 venture- to comment upon the eccentric views of 
 nature and art. The merchant appeared to have 
 some idea of establishing a basis of sympathy 
 between himself and a man of known taste for 
 literature and the arts. 
 
 " You don't paint, I s'pose ? " Amory shook his 
 head smilingly.
 
 80 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 " If I had time, / sh'd like to patronize music. 
 Some people run wild about paintin'. Talk about 
 a thousan' dollars a square yard ! Wy, there 
 never was any such vallue in any square yard of 
 paintin'. You can sometimes git good picters on 
 the sidewalk in State Street for ten dollars, all 
 framed, with clouds and woodses an' water an' 
 boats, jest as good, jest as good. I take more to 
 music. I s'bscribed for the big orgen" (here he felt 
 of his pocket sympathetically). " Makin' tunes 
 is like makin' somethin' out o' nothin'. Try to 
 whistle, and you get into somebody's tune : if you 
 get outside on't, you're nowhere, lost. You can 
 say somethin' new; but, when you whistle, it's 
 somethin' old. It's a smart feller that picks up 
 the notes layin' round, and puts 'em together so 
 as't they stick." 
 
 Mr. Gibbs had been watching his clerk ; but the 
 face before him was as if it had been made of 
 china. He had not struck the young man's fancy 
 yet. 
 
 " I've a mind to bring up one of my boys to be 
 a Be-thuven. Why not ? Don't you think that's 
 an idea? I might have him write histry, like 
 Motley ; or potry, like Longfeller : but it's more 
 of a thing to be a Be-thuven, more grand like, 
 more kinder distangay. Do you ever compose 
 any music ? " 
 
 " Not at all." 
 
 " Thought I'd seen things in rows like gridirons, 
 on your desk, long gridirons with peeps on 'em ?
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 81 
 
 Oh, ah! somethin' else? Potry, I've no doubt. 
 I know you have somethin' here (tapping his cor- 
 rugated brow with a pudgy finger). 
 
 Amory blushed, and replied rather nervously 
 that he had written a few verses now and then, 
 out of office-hours. 
 
 " You study too ? " 
 
 " Yes, a little natural science." 
 
 ' Well, I'm glad it's nateral science. There's a 
 lot that's unnateral. Histry, too ? " 
 
 Amory nodded, curious to know how this ex- 
 cursion through the arts and sciences was to end. 
 
 "I've been asked to take hold of a new bank 
 (I'm drector in three now) ; and they said some 
 of em they was goin' to call it the Sam Adams 
 
 Bank. Now, I want know who in was Sam 
 
 Adams? Any relation to young Sam on Battry- 
 march Street, or to them stuck-up Adamses down 
 to Quiney? 
 
 Amory modestly gave the desired information, 
 and added that it was proposed to set up a statue 
 of the orator. 
 
 " Oho ! A statoo ! Why, that'll give the bank a 
 good send-off. Histry doos come in now an' then. 
 And you can write somethin' sensible about com- 
 merce an' the like ? 
 
 "I hope so," said Amory. 
 
 " Hm. And so you can rattle off on paper in 
 good style ? Put in long words that 1 sound well, 
 and don't mean any thin' ? Let a feller down easy 
 that we wouldn't wanter trust? Keep people
 
 82 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 from gettin' too familiar and over-drawin' ? Oh, 
 I know. Style's every thin'. Manners and cere- 
 munny keeps vulgar folks at a distance : so doos 
 style in writin', somethin' in that. Yes, writin' 
 has its place. Couldn't do without it. Though 
 genrally, when a feller writes too Avell, he can't do 
 nothin' else ez well. It hurt Choate, this beiii' 
 litry, and it hurts Hillard. The quiet ones that 
 don't spread themselves on paper 's too much for 
 the litry fellers. No offence to you. We shall 
 run the machine " (tapping once more the ugly 
 brow), "and I think yourn's the hand for the pen. 
 What d'ye say?" 
 
 The end of this oration was signalized by a 
 keen look from the twinkling eyes, and a forward 
 movement of the bulky body ; while two stout 
 hands came down as props upon the short chunks 
 of knees. The sloping line of the back, the pose 
 of the head, and the expression of face, reminded 
 Amory of a toad. But the question was none the 
 less embarrassing for its comic aspect. The first 
 impulse was to refuse bluntly. Mr. Gibbs repre- 
 sented nearly every thing that he detested. Even 
 at a distance the decent hypocrisy due to an 
 employer was difficult : to keep up the show of 
 respect at close quarters would be a hard task. 
 Mr. Gibbs did not merely inspire silent aversion, 
 but active dislike to the very border of hate- 
 Amory felt almost like fighting when the head of 
 the enemy was thrust toAvards him. 
 
 Mr. Gibbs, who had expected an instant and
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 83 
 
 joyful acceptance of the offer, was surprised to 
 find Amoiy hesitating. To make the declination 
 less offensive, the young man expressed doubt of 
 his ability, especially as the successor of so able a 
 correspondent as Mr. Prescott's nephew, the divin- 
 ity student. Mr. Gibbs blurted out " Pshaw ! " 
 and " Nonsense ! " But, the longer he talked, the 
 stronger the aversion grew in the soul of the hon- 
 est little man ; and at last, being pushed to the 
 wall to answer yes or no, he said no civilly but 
 decidedly. 
 
 Mr. Gibbs was naturally angry, and started up. 
 He was not in the habit of being opposed. He 
 drew himself up to his full height of five feet six, 
 pursed out his cheeks, and, while the color deep- 
 ened in his coppery nose, he exclaimed, " Very well, 
 sir. You leave this house. The cashier will set- 
 tle with you. Go ! " 
 
 He opened the door, and pointed outward with 
 a short stout finger. 
 
 Amory was quiet and firm. "I believe," said 
 he, " I am entitled to a notice, and am not to be 
 put out of doors in this way. I was hired by Mr. 
 Prescott, and I don't believe he would see me dis- 
 missed without cause." 
 
 " I will let you know that / am master. That 
 for Mr. Prescott. Get out, you beggar ! " 
 
 The next instant Mr. Gibbs was lying on the 
 floor with a contusion on the back of his head, 
 caused by the edge of the desk which he struck 
 in falling. Amory did not follow up his advan-
 
 84 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 tage, but stood on the defensive, with his fists 
 clinched, glaring in every way at the clerks who 
 had rushed towards the scene. There was pain or 
 surprise on the faces of some, but suppressed 
 merriment was evident in more. The elder men 
 got Mr. Gibbs up, looked at his head to see the 
 extent of the injury, and placed him in a chair. 
 His rage and astonishment, to say nothing of the 
 fall, had literally made him speechless. 
 
 Meanwhile Amory held his ground, disdaining a 
 word of explanation, until presently Mr. Prescott 
 appeared. The sharp look of inquiry which the 
 senior cast upon the group was answered at once 
 by Amory. 
 
 " He had just discharged me for no cause, and 
 without notice. I thought that was enough ; but 
 he then called me a beggar, and I knocked him 
 over." 
 
 " Very wrong," said Mr. Prescott, but without 
 any great emphasis. 
 
 Mr. Gibbs had recovered enough to gurgle out, 
 " Call a policeman ! " 
 
 " No need of that," said Amory. " I'll appear 
 at court, and pay my fine with pleasure." 
 
 " Arrest him ! " said Mr. Gibbs fiercely. 
 
 " What is all this about ? " asked Mr. Prescott. 
 
 " I dismissed him," said Mr. Gibbs. 
 
 " And for what cause ? " inquired Mr. Prescott, 
 nettled at the assumption. 
 
 " Because I chose," replied the junior, straight- 
 ening up, and settling his chin in his collar.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 85 
 
 "Mr. Gibbs," said the senior in a deprecatory 
 tone, " any thing in reason, you know. And, after 
 what has happened, of course he must go. But 
 you will hardly desire if you think of it to 
 give such an answer to me. Amory was entitled 
 to a fair notice until his act of violence ; and I 
 am entitled, as the head of this house, to a respect- 
 ful answer." 
 
 The face of the junior, which had been paler 
 than usual on account of the shock, seemed to 
 blaze, all at once, with recollections of limitless 
 burgundy and brandy. The rigid wrinkles about 
 his eyes encroached upon ' the limited surface 
 above his stubbly beard. Perpendicular furrows 
 shot up between his eyebrows. His temper was un- 
 controllable ; and, with a husky voice, he shouted, 
 
 " The head of the house be d d ! This firm is 
 
 dissolved. Time will show who is master." 
 
 "This is extraordinary language," said Mr. 
 Prescott; "but I am not altogether unprepared 
 for it. Remain, Mr. Amory, a moment. An in- 
 terview that begins with a storm like this should 
 have a witness. So, Mr. Gibbs, the mask is 
 thrown off. You announce the dissolution of the 
 partnership. It is a little sudden, but, perhaps, 
 just as well. Notice to the public, of course. 
 Usually the notice gives the new arrangements 
 also." 
 
 " The new arrangement will be ' Gibbs & Co.,' ' 
 said the junior, with protruding lips. 
 
 " Possibly," said Mr. Prescott. " But there are
 
 86 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 a few preliminaries, such as an inventory, a tran- 
 script from the books of the assets and liabilities 
 of the firm." 
 
 " All prepared, Mr. Prescott. The whole thing 
 is ready in my desk, inventory to date, schedule 
 of bills payable and receivable, private account of 
 Mr. Prescott, ditto of Mr. Gibbs." 
 
 " A little time may be necessary to verify state- 
 ments ^covering so many items." 
 
 " As much time as you want. But the dissolu- 
 tion is a fact. Your rights are what they are. 
 Figures will show. Confound that desk ! How 
 my head aches ! " 
 
 " What do you propose ? " 
 
 " I might say that to you. Buy, or sell." 
 
 " When would you expect the payment to be 
 made, if I conclude to buy ? " 
 
 "I won't be unreasonable. It's a large sum. 
 It would take some time, say a week." 
 
 " Monstrous ! " said Mr. Prescott. " You know 
 the richest man on the street would find it a task 
 to produce so much money, money, I say. Peo- 
 ple talk of such sums, but they don't often see 
 them. There hasn't been such a sum paid over in 
 settling a firm's accounts, in money, mind, I say 
 in money, for years." 
 
 " Well, make it a month." 
 
 "Call it three." 
 
 " It's all the same. Let it be three." 
 
 " If the old Corinthian had not given out," said 
 Amory aside, speaking now for the first time.
 
 MAN PROPOSES 87 
 
 Mr. Gibbs heard the remark, and, sore as he 
 was, howled with derision, " The Corinthian I a 
 humbug copper-mine ! Why, I've got certificates 
 enough to line a trunk. By George, I'll sell 'em 
 to my barber for shaving-paper ! " 
 
 Mr. Prescott winced. It was he who had per- 
 suaded Gibbs to invest with him in that disastrous 
 venture. The shares that Mr. Prescott had 
 "placed" with his friends had left marks every- 
 where like blisters. Some actually thought he had 
 "unloaded," had knowingly sold the stock after 
 its worthlessness had been proved, just as the 
 promoters of the Pewter File Company did, swin- 
 dling credulous friends out of their hard earnings. 
 This was a very sore subject with Mr. Prescott ; 
 for he was a man of honor, and not a man to 
 "unload." He had fully believed in the Corin- 
 thian, and had not only put his money in it, but 
 had persuaded his friends to do so. But it had 
 given out, as Amory said. There was not an 
 ounce of copper in the hill that would not cost 
 the price of two ounces to get it to market. It 
 was a hopeless wreck. The certificates were 
 pretty specimens of engraving; and people kept 
 them, as they kept Kossuth's Hungarian bonds, 
 mementoes of a pleasing delusion. No wonder 
 Gibbs sneered. 
 
 " Gather 'em," said he. " You are out of busi- 
 ness, Amory. Gather the bonds. Get 'em all 
 together ; and perhaps the paper will help pay 
 your fine, you puppy ! "
 
 88 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 Mr. Prescott was going to speak ; but Amory 
 respectfully waved him back, saying, " I am not 
 quite without resources. I can pay the fine, and 
 I can earn a living. I should be better pleased to 
 serve Mr. Prescott without a salary than his part- 
 ner with. I am glad to take my leave. Good- 
 by, Mr. Prescott. May we meet under happier 
 auspices ! " 
 
 Mr. Prescott was so much absorbed in this sud- 
 den turn of affairs, that he scarcely listened to 
 Amory, and scarcely returned his farewell. 
 
 "The mill accounts," said he to Gibbs, "are 
 they at your beck and call? May not the direct- 
 ors of the Pequot, or the Miantonomo and other 
 mills, possibly have something to say ? " 
 
 " Let him carry the accounts that can get "em," 
 said Mr. Gibbs doggedly, rising, and sopping his 
 wet handkerchief upon his head. 
 
 " Amen ! " replied Mr. Prescott. " You are 
 playing for a large stake. You may win, because 
 I may be unable to raise such a sum of money. 
 But I don't believe you will get the mill accounts; 
 and, if you don't, you will have lost the game. 
 You will Have shown your bad temper, your 
 ingratitude, your baseness, in vain." 
 
 The attitude of Mr. Prescott as he uttered these 
 words was neither aggressive nor petulant. The 
 words came from his lips in tones that were free 
 from the exaggeration of wrath. Mr. Gibbs was 
 full of rage, almost ready for violence ; but as he 
 cautiously looked about, standing within sight of
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 89 
 
 the clerks, lie saw that something of the conversa- 
 tion had been overheard, and that he was closely 
 watched ; and he knew that an assault upon the 
 " head of the house" might lead to very unpleas- 
 ant consequences. 
 
 So the two men separated, the one to rejoice 
 over the success of his first move, the other to 
 meditate on the chances left him. The younger 
 man affected no sense of delicacy, no sentiment of 
 honor, no feeling of gratitude. He had neither. 
 He was a rich man, and he had become rich in the 
 usual way ; namely, by always taking the biggest 
 slice in the dish. A fme-souled man with regard 
 for his fellows, one who waits that others may 
 have their share from the bountiful platter that 
 Nature sets out, will be apt to see the dish swept 
 clean before his turn comes. 
 
 And the elder was too proud, too well ac- 
 quainted with the way of the world, to make a 
 single reference to the past. It was of no conse- 
 quence that he had given Gibbs the opportunity 
 to rise, or that Gibbs owed every thing to him : the 
 only question was, what Gibbs's interest was now. 
 In dealing with such a " business man" in the 
 present year of our Lord, if one has the advan- 
 tage over him, it isn't advisable to throw it away.
 
 90 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 IT was nearly time for dinner, and Mrs. Prescott 
 was weary of looking at the clock. After Phcebe 
 went to take her singing-lesson, a foreign bishop, 
 one of the celebrities of the time, called, but 
 only long enough to exhibit some relics which he 
 designed to carry to the next meeting of the Plato 
 Club. He had a bit of stone from the holy sepul- 
 chre, the dagger and a lock of hair of Lord Byron, 
 and a roll of parchment from a monastery on 
 Mount Athos, containing a fragment of a pseudo- 
 gospel in Greek, in which were related the spor- 
 tive miracles wrought by the infant Jesus while at 
 play with his fellows. The stone was a fraud, the 
 relics doubtful, and the manuscript a forgery ; 
 but Mrs. Prescott had a surfeit of piety and senti- 
 ment in looking them over. The day had waned. 
 Roderick had not come home,^ though that was not 
 unusual. Mr. Prescott was also late. But Phcebe 
 had never failed to return to lunch before. It was 
 surprising, and was becoming a matter for alarm. 
 
 Phcebe, as we know already, had few acquaint- 
 ances, and scarcely any friends, outside the family. 
 If she had a relative living, she did not know it. 
 When Mrs. Maloney formally surrendered the
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 91 
 
 charge of her, it was understood that visits were to 
 be as infrequent as Christmas and Easter. The 
 barefoot and ragged regiment in Mrs. Maloney's 
 neighborhood had, of course, lost sight of their old 
 companion ; and the young ladies of her own age 
 in society knew little more of her than if she had 
 been an upper servant or seamstress. The position 
 of a dependent had its trials ; but they had not 
 only been borne without complaint, but had been 
 ignored. Beside her protector's family and her 
 teachers, she was absolutely alone in the world. 
 
 Some dim consciousness of this had begun to 
 form itself in Mrs. Prescott's mind. As she had 
 virtually assumed the place of a mother, she felt 
 that she could not much longer delay public 
 acknowledgment and a formal presentation of 
 Phoebe to her circle of friends. 
 
 But where could she be now ? She had sent a 
 servant to Signor Belvedere, and had learned that 
 he was not at home. She was beginning to be 
 nervously anxious. 
 
 Mr. Prescott and Roderick happened to enter the 
 house together. Not having rehearsed their parts, 
 each threw a meaning glance at the other as they 
 passed into the sitting-room. 
 
 " How late you are ! " said Mrs. Prescott, rising, 
 and greeting her husband with the usual kiss. 
 
 " Quite sorry, my dear," he replied ; " but it 
 couldn't be helped. Business has been trouble- 
 some to-day." 
 
 Roderick, fearing that a scene would ensue if
 
 92 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 his step-father were to be precipitate, gave him 
 another warning look. Mr. Prescott, who was 
 still greatly agitated, observed the caution and 
 returned it. 
 
 " There is something between you two," said 
 Mrs. Prescott. " You look at each other 
 strangely." 
 
 " Have patience," said her husband : " there is 
 no cause for alarm." 
 
 Her expression indicated extreme distress. Ashy 
 pallors and shadows trembled over her face ; pain- 
 ful wrinkles gathered and stiffened upon her fore- 
 head and around her eyes ; and her lips seemed 
 ready to utter a moan. She turned to her son, 
 and, with a pathetic voice, explaimed, " Roderick, 
 tell me what is this ? Suspense will kill me." 
 
 Mr. Prescott drew her to the sofa, and tried to 
 soothe her ; but the nervous agitation increased. 
 
 " Won't you wait, dear mother," said Roderick, 
 "and let us talk of affairs in the morning?" 
 
 Her reply was scarcely articulate ; and it was 
 evident that something must be told her, either 
 she must hear the truth, or be put off by some 
 evasion. 
 
 " My dear mother, if your ancestor the admiral 
 were living, and if he were, as I am, an American, 
 if he were twenty-five years old, and without 
 wife or child, and his country needed his sword, 
 what do you think he would do ? " 
 
 The mother looked at him wildly, but continued 
 sobbing.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 93 
 
 "I have no doubt what you will say, my clear 
 wife," said the elder, "when you have time to 
 reflect. Roderick has stated the case well, and we 
 shall see if you have not some of the old Anglo- 
 Saxon spirit." 
 
 At length she found words to say, a gasp at a 
 time, " It may be a proud thing afterwards, 
 but terrible while the danger is near and I 
 can't give up my boy no, not for the fame of 
 Nelson and my ancestor too. Stay with me, 
 Roderick ! " 
 
 " I didn't intend," said Mr. Prescott, " to let this 
 matter out this evening. I meant to take a proper 
 time and a smoother way. But we men are not 
 very artful ; and, while we thought we were as 
 secret as quails under a bush, you read us both at 
 a glance. But it is out. Be cheerful, my dear. 
 All our young men are volunteering. Roderick 
 will go with the best youth of the city. He will 
 come back with the stars of a general. How 
 proud we shall be of him ! He couldn't stay at 
 home. Pray what excuse would he have? He 
 will have a captain's commission in a new regiment. 
 When it is organized, he will probably be major or 
 lieutenant-colonel. You will get over your nat- 
 ural trepidation, and will rejoice that he inherits 
 the spirit of your grandfather." 
 
 The mother felt a secret thrill at these words : 
 but the sensation was transitory ; the natural 
 instinct was too strong, and she could not repress 
 her thick-coming sobs. It is not well to attempt
 
 94 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 to repeat the disjointed phrases, or portray the 
 unreasoning grief of a mother's heart. 
 
 Roderick moved his seat next to her, and held 
 her hand, while her head fell on his shoulder, and 
 the tears rained down. 
 
 Mr. Prescott walked the room, and wondered 
 whether he had been too stern, whether he 
 should have favored the young man's volunteer- 
 ing, whether any lack of affection had mingled 
 with the sense of duty in his talk that morning. 
 His own lip quivered, and his breath came short, 
 as he saw his wife's distress. Jt was useless to say, 
 " Cheer up ; " for the current of sacred grief, like 
 the summer rain, must have its course. He waited, 
 uttering now and then a soothing word, until Mrs. 
 Prescott raised her head, calmer, though still tear- 
 ful, and asked him if he had seen Phoebe. The 
 question stabbed him to the heart ; but he was 
 more on his guard, and he resolved not to show 
 his secret thought to her again. By a great 
 effort he replied that he had not seen her since 
 breakfast. He did not look at his wife as he 
 spoke, still less did he look at his stepson. Not 
 if he could help it, should she drain this other cup 
 of grief in which there would be such a mingling 
 of shame. 
 
 The situation of the young man was pitiable. 
 His mother was already prostrated with her sorrow, 
 and it needed all his and his step-father's care to 
 soothe her. The morning's conversation with the 
 elder left no doubt in his mind as to the cause of
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 95 
 
 the girl's absence ; but he could only remain silent, 
 since the worst conjecture could hardly be more 
 painful to the mother than the truth. Mr. Pres- 
 cott maintained a steadfast silence also ; while his 
 wife recalled every incident of the last few days, 
 set up one baseless theory after another, and, find- 
 ing none satisfactory, finally lapsed into a gloom 
 from which nothing could rouse her. One grief 
 she might have overcome, but the two weighed 
 her down. Mr. Prescott wondered what would 
 have happened to her if the third tremendous fact, 
 their impending ruin, were also to be made known. 
 " This must come to her gradually," he thought. 
 "I will be wise. I will fit up the old house in 
 Eaglemont ; and, after Roderick is off, I will per- 
 suade her to go up and spend the summer there. 
 We will be cheerful. We will have some young 
 people ; " and then his fancy came to a halt, for 
 he thought of Phoebe, and was again in the slough 
 of despond. 
 
 At length Mrs. Prescott rose mournfully, and 
 walked slowly into the hall, and up the stairs to 
 her chamber. Both the husband and son by a 
 common instinct respected her grief, and let her 
 pass without a word ; only the young man, steal- 
 ing into the hall, caught her hand tenderly as it 
 rested upon the baluster-rail, and kissed it. 
 
 It was a gloomy dinner. Flowers fresh and 
 dewy were in the large silver dish in the centre of 
 the table, and miniature bouquets stood by each 
 plate. The man-servant stood in respectful silence,
 
 96 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 as the two men, with heavy hearts, took their 
 places. The two women whose beauty and spirit 
 had always enlivened the table, and made the din- 
 ner-hour the brightest of the twenty-four, were 
 absent. The one was stricken with an incurable 
 wound ; and the other where was she ? 
 
 Mr. Prescott after a time motioned away the 
 servant, and said, " This is a bad business, this of 
 Phoebe's going away. We must find her. I will 
 find her, and I will bring her back if I bring her 
 in my arms." He spoke low, but his eyes glowed 
 with strong emotion. " But don't think I will 
 betray you. You have behaved handsomely. Only 
 let me find her. I will make all things smooth. 
 We must have -her back, for your mother's sake 
 and mine." 
 
 In the space of an hour Roderick had done more 
 serious thinking than in all his life before. Still 
 he could riot talk. The family was encompassed 
 with troubles that were largely due to his own 
 faults and errors. He could say nothing in face 
 of the present and the coming calamities ; and the 
 ordinary topics of conversation seemed foolish and 
 impertinent. But he had made up his mind to do 
 his devoir as a son and a soldier. He was deter- 
 mined, as far as he could, to atone for his follies, 
 to implore the forgiveness of Phrebe if he could 
 only find her, and to leave behind him the mem- 
 ory of duty and honor. 
 
 Still he could not talk. A deep sense of regret 
 for his extravagance and his aimless life, a sense
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 97 
 
 of burning shame for his lawless conduct towards 
 a pure and high-minded girl, filled all his soul. 
 The step-father saw the struggle in the young 
 man's face, and brooded over the gloomy situation, 
 feeling that the one gleam of hope for the future 
 was to arise from the chivalric deeds of the re- 
 pentant prodigal. " Roderick," he said at length, 
 " I think you are wise to go in the infantry. You 
 are scarcely strong enough for cavalry service. 
 Your command will be black, but perhaps more 
 tractable. You will have much to do in the next 
 few days. You are to get your equipment, and 
 begin the study of tactics. You will have no 
 time for any thing else. I will set on foot every 
 possible inquiry for the poor girl." His voice 
 choked as he spoke. He went on in a calmer tone, 
 "I thought of your wants after we parted. I 
 drew a check for you, and then, when I came to 
 reflect, it seemed small ; and as I am getting old, 
 and am beyond the little vanity of jewelry, I 
 thought the diamond studs your mother bought 
 for me were of no use to an old fellow, and 
 especially to one who is soon to be a hermit in 
 Eaglemont, and I sold them. So here are the two 
 checks, enough, I hope, to pay your bills, and fit 
 you out as an officer, and my son, should go." 
 
 Roderick looked at his father's shirt-front. 
 True enough, there was a set of plain ivory studs 
 in the place of the brilliant gems he had been 
 used to wear. He sobbed aloud, "This is too 
 much. I don't deserve it."
 
 98 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 " Pooh, pooh ! " ejaculated the elder, striving to 
 carry it off as a matter of no consequence : " I 
 don't need the things ; better they should serve 
 some useful purpose/' In fact, the sacrifice was 
 little to him, as he had worn the bawbles to please 
 his wife. To the young man it seemed quite dif- 
 ferent, for he tried in vain to imagine such self- 
 denial on his own part. 
 
 "I never saw how grand and good you were 
 before," faltered the youth. "If I live, I will 
 deserve your regard, your affection, my dear, 
 dear father ! " 
 
 " Oh, don't cry I " said the father, brushing off 
 two or three glistening drops from his awn cheek. 
 "It isn't worth a tear, nor a thought. Don't cry ! " 
 And his own features were struggling to keep up 
 an outward semblance of stoicism. 
 
 They sat long at the table. Their hearts had 
 been opened each to the other. They discussed 
 the momentous events of the day. Roderick saw 
 himself, his step-father, and the world with new 
 eyes. Tears sometimes clarify the vision. 
 
 Mr. Prescott looked at the changed face, and 
 again and again reproached himself that he had 
 not, years ago, by daily intercourse and by the 
 power of sympathy, seized hold upon the boy, and 
 retained his influence up to manhood. He judged 
 rightly that it was in a measure his fault that he 
 had let go his grasp, and allowed a difference to 
 grow between them, until their lives were unal- 
 terably divided.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 99 
 
 For this passionate repentance which we have 
 seen, and these sudden good resolutions, were not 
 feigned. The youth, though he may have broken 
 every moral law, was not wholly base. His life 
 was the result of a vicious education. His habits 
 had been formed in the society of dandies, idlers, 
 and spendthrifts. His notions of the honor of 
 man and the purity of woman were such as too 
 often prevail among our gilded youth. It is only 
 in a virtuous home that young men see the true 
 and the immutable relations of society, and learn 
 to live for noble ends. Heaven pity the youth 
 whose training has been solely in a fashionable 
 club! 
 
 " Now, if we can only find Phoebe ! " said Mr. 
 Prescott. "I know, Roderick, this is a painful 
 subject. I don't refer to it to harrow up your 
 feelings, but I can't keep her out of my mind. 
 Not that I think she will come to serious harm, 
 she is too circumspect and too high-spirited ; but 
 I fear she will do some quixotic thing, try to 
 teach or sing, or even go into some house as a serv- 
 ant. I ache to think what she must suffer. And 
 by to-morrow your mother will be frantic." 
 
 Roderick was silent. 
 
 "We won't continue this conversation," said 
 the father. "Leave me to break the matter to 
 your mother. We may not meet in the morning. 
 I must have an early breakfast, and prepare for 
 what is coming. Gibbs will be fierce after his 
 knock-down. Plucky little fellow, Amory, though
 
 100 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 I am afraid he precipitated matters for me when 
 he sent Gibbs reeling. Good-night." 
 
 Roderick rose, and grasped the friendly hand, 
 stammered some inaudible words, and then fell 
 back into his chair to reflect.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 101 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 MR. PKESCOTT went early to his office. The 
 sweeper had scarcely finished dusting the office 
 furniture. The morning letters lay on the chief 
 clerk's desk, unopened. Amory was at his desk, 
 of which the lid was propped up, and the drawers 
 out, clearing the receptacles of his private papers. 
 There was a look of half-comic resolution on his 
 face. His ripe and pulpy lips seemed to have 
 grown solid. Even the cowlick on his broad 
 round forehead appeared to stand up more de- 
 fiantly than usual. 
 
 " Ah ! " said he. " Good-morning, Mr. Prescott. 
 I was afraid it was Gibbs." 
 
 " And so you are really going ? Have you any 
 thing to depend upon ? " 
 
 "It is very kind of you to think of that. 
 Gibbs wouldn't care if I had to go to the Island." 
 
 " Do you want any thing for your fine and 
 costs ? After all, it was my battle you fought." 
 
 Amory laughed. " No, I thank you, I have 
 plenty ; and, if the judge is reasonable, I sha'n't 
 complain. The knock was worth all it will cost. 
 I am comfortably well off. My mother owns a 
 little house. We have been very prudent, and I 
 am glad to say I have saved something."
 
 102 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 " On a thousand a year ? " 
 
 " Yes, on a thousand a year. And I have spent 
 a hundred the last year for lectures at the Poly- 
 technic School too. But then I have earned 
 something," here his tone grew confidential, " by 
 writing. I was named for a poet, a dangerous 
 experiment on the part of parents. Napoleon was 
 made a butcher by getting a present of a. toy can- 
 non when a child, and I got a fatal lurch towards 
 poetry by being called Percival. The toughest 
 thing that can happen to a man is to have a long- 
 ing and taste for something he has not the talent 
 for. My poems were published in ' The Evening 
 Tea-Table ; ' but I never could sell one for a six- 
 pence. Thinks I, this will never do. No talent 
 is worth any thing that doesn't bring in some- 
 thing, that doesn't bear on the question of bread 
 and butter. The sky over me was full of butterfly 
 thoughts ; but they didn't light. The actual lines 
 I wrote were a great ways from the unspeakable 
 things I imagined. But I am boring you with 
 my gabble ? " 
 
 " No : go on. It's early. I like to hear you. It 
 is a relief." 
 
 " Well, I'll be short ; though generally, when a 
 man says that, you may look out for a long stretch. 
 I want to show you how helpless a fellow is when 
 he can't catch his butterflies. Look at that scrib- 
 bled sheet of paper, its usefulness gone as 
 paper. Some fellows wouldn't show it, because it 
 is a record of failures. But I'm not ashamed to
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 103 
 
 show it, for there is an idea in it, without form, 
 but not void ; and that is more than you can say 
 for many finished verses. There are four lines 
 together. There are three. Then see the scrawls, 
 the erasures, the blots. That's me ! Do you 
 want the history of that effort? Read that first 
 quatrain : 
 
 pcfclicil oc 
 ' Brave little birds on the telegraph wire, 
 
 ' Motionless dots on an air-spun line, 
 
 ' Breasting the wind as its surges rise higher, 
 
 ' Would that your trust and your patience were mine. 
 
 " Not bad, are they ? only the last line is rather 
 pious and humdrum ; but I couldn't get the 
 rhyme in any other way. Well, now look at that 
 group of lines, and that : 
 
 buries 
 ' Snow crowns the window caps, ice paves the street 
 
 'Elm branches groan o'er the desolate malls, 
 ' Still on your airy line hold your firm seat, 
 4 Waiting the signal 
 
 ; Now on the portico fluttering come 
 
 springing 
 
 ; Tiny feet hopping, sharp eyes askance 
 ' Warily pecking
 
 104 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 ' Trees writhe & moan like the maniac king 
 
 ay goer 'hr laah -UK! 
 'Till out of my window the signal I fling 
 
 Iti Aolt luiij, alccp arc 'aid. - 
 ' Insect and worm out of reach are asleep 
 
 A 
 
 " But they wouldn't come into shape. You see, 
 I was looking out one day at the sparrows that 
 rode on the wire opposite my window. No food for 
 them ; insect and worm asleep ; the earth in icy 
 mail. When I raised the sash and whistled, they 
 fluttered down to the roof of the portico, hopped 
 saucily up to the window-sill, gobbled the crumbs 
 with such a funny voracity, and then flew back to 
 swing in the wind again. Then I thought how 
 the messages of love and death, of crime, battles, 
 politics, and business from all over the world, were 
 coming under those tiny feet, and the little souls 
 were unconscious of the momentous thoughts that 
 were rushing like lightning over the wire they 
 clung to. And then I thought that men here 
 on this planet, which is only a great electrical 
 machine through which the thoughts of God are 
 pulsing, creating diamonds, it may be, or causing 
 earthquakes or tidal waves, were really uncon- 
 scious as the birds. Well, a great many such fan- 
 cies flitted over head, butterflies, I have called 
 them, and I wanted to catch them. As I said,
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 105 
 
 they wouldn't light. See how I wrestled here, 
 and here ! No use : I was stuck, like a fly in honey. 
 I kept the thing three months. I sat down to it 
 every few days, and vowed I would accomplish it. 
 But I didn't, and there is the sorry-looking sheet." 
 
 " They say that poets only express what other 
 men feel," said Mr. Prescott. 
 
 " Yes ; and after a while I concluded to leave the 
 job to them. For myself I gave it up. As I'm 
 going away, I don't mind saying, that, in the cause 
 of bread and butter, I made a more effective use 
 of my faculties. You see how the great tailors and 
 the furniture-and-carpet men come out in rhymed 
 advertisements : well, that pays, pays as well as 
 the poetry of the ' Pacific.' 
 
 Mr. Prescott laughed immoderately. "Why, 
 you don't say that flowery flummery stuff is 
 yours?" 
 
 " Perfectly willing you should laugh. I know 
 what it is: I don't flatter myself a particle. I 
 know it is bosh. But I am not above earning an 
 honest penny. I have paid for the Polytechnic 
 Lectures by that bosh, and saved a good bit be- 
 sides. And the lectures are not bosh." 
 
 " Pray what have you been learning at the 
 Polytechnic School?" 
 
 " To use my eyes and my faculties. I have 
 been digging into natural science. But never 
 mind now. I am a fool to be talking of my non- 
 sense when you must have so much upon your 
 mind. My papers are gathered, a precious lot
 
 106 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 they are, and I am going. I think I shall take 
 a trip out West. Perhaps, in that region of vast 
 distances, my faculties may have a late expansion, 
 and my mother may not have named me Gates 
 Percival in vain." 
 
 " If I should carry on the business alone, would 
 you come back to me ? " 
 
 " I don't know. I am afraid you won't vanquish 
 the beast (beg pardon), won't get the better of 
 Mr. Gibbs. I think of you more than you will 
 ever know. There is nothing under heaven I 
 wouldn't do for you. But I can do you no good 
 here, perhaps not anywhere." Amory here as- 
 sumed a .reflective air, and talked in a tone that 
 sounded like philosophy. "Besides, I am not 
 satisfied with business. What is business ? Self- 
 ishness. Any Christianity in it? Any honor, such 
 as even a Pagan like Cicero would approve ? Not 
 any. Three partners are together: two of them 
 think they can get along without the third, and 
 they crowd him out. He is crippled, and his life's 
 prospects gone. Do the two care ? Not much. 
 I have never seen a transaction in this house, 
 never seen a letter written (begging your pardon), 
 that was not based solely upon self-interest. 
 Natural, you say ; but where does the Christianity 
 come in? Mr. Gibbs is merely acting on this 
 rule, ' Look out for yourself, and devil take the 
 hindmost. Make what you can out of every man, 
 and, when you can get no more out of him, drop 
 him, kick him out.' Mr. Gibbs owed every thing
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 107 
 
 to you. What does that matter? Business is 
 business. He has capital enough of his own, and 
 doesn't need you. Brains he can hire ; not mine, 
 however. He can't hire me for the tenth part of a 
 second. I think of Falstaff, and his catechism 
 about honor, and I say about ' business,' ' I'll none 
 of it.' If you succeed, it is because you are not 
 troubled by Christian principles, nor hedged in by 
 honor, nor softened by sentiment. Cussedness 
 wins, with the cutting edge kept dead ahead." 
 
 "And this is what you have learned in my 
 counting-room ? " said Mr. Prescott seriously. 
 
 " Not here especially, and never from you ; but 
 these notions, though men don't advocate them, 
 because they have an ugly sound nakedly stated, 
 these notions, I say, are in the air. Your great 
 merchant, like Stewart, is only the one overgrown 
 pickerel in the pond, swallowing every smaller 
 fish he can seize. I say, in short, that the rule in 
 business is to look at every question solely as it 
 affects your own interest." 
 
 "You may say the burglar and pickpocket do 
 that." 
 
 " Oh ! that is extremely silly on the part of the 
 thieves. There are laws against what are called 
 crimes, and prisons for the fools that are caught. 
 Your good business man doesn't break the law, 
 unless he can do it safety, not he ; and he has his 
 lawyer to tell him how far he can go." 
 
 " Well, well ! " said Mr. Prescott, " this is a sin- 
 gular commentary. It seems that I am rightfully
 
 108 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 overthrown, that I am only the engineer ' hoist with 
 his own petard.' " 
 
 " Don't for a minute think, Mr. Prescott, that 
 in this way I justify Gibbs. Dash him ! I should 
 like to knock him over again, and then wring his 
 neck, an ungrateful, treacherous, arrogant beast ! 
 But I see how men like him construe the law of 
 business, which is only selfishness, and how they 
 count their very baseness an honor. I don't know 
 that I shall ever go into business again : if I do, 
 I'll come to you. If there is a Christian man in 
 the street, it is you ; and I am afraid that is what's 
 the matter." 
 
 " Thank you, Amory. I knew I was sure of 
 your good wishes." 
 
 "There is another matter, Mr. Prescott," and 
 the young man spoke in a lower tone. " You may 
 remember or, I should say, you have heard, per- 
 haps your niece in Eaglemont, Miss Mary, your 
 brother Solomon's daughter. I saw her here last 
 Christmas ; and, before I go West, I might take 
 a run up there. Picturesque old place, isn't it? 
 I think I might fill out that mutilated poem if I 
 were on the old hill, looking down." 
 
 "And with Mary sitting beside you for a 
 muse ! " 
 
 "Don't jest, please, when her name is men- 
 tioned." 
 
 " Well, and as to the young lady ? " 
 
 " I have a letter from her. It seems they are 
 looking for Robert. He left here yesterday ; and I
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 109 
 
 suppose is going to sail for India, or China, or 
 some other heathenish place " 
 
 " To introduce ' business ' views among the inno- 
 cent natives," suggested Mr. Prescott. 
 
 " Oh ! he's in dead earnest. Your nephew is a 
 man of a million. He is as lovely as John, as fer- 
 vent as Paul, and brave as Peter. His head is 
 above the clouds like a mountain-top ; and the light 
 of heaven shines on it." 
 
 " That sounds like a quotation from one of your 
 poems." 
 
 Amory actually blushed. It was, in fact, a 
 thought from a sonnet he had sent to the fair maid 
 of Eaglemont. 
 
 Mr. Prescott thought a moment. " Amory, you 
 can do me a favor. Tell my brother Solomon that 
 we are going to pass the summer in the old house, 
 the one half way down the hill. Ask him to get 
 Bissell the carpenter to go over it, and put it in 
 order, and then let Lane give it a coat of paint 
 outside and in. I would have the garden spaded 
 and raked, and the fences mended. See that the 
 whole place is in decent order. You might give 
 them the benefit of your advice, though I have 
 no doubt the mechanics will be faithful : ' busi- 
 ness' views, as you state them, have not yet 
 reached Eaglemont." 
 
 Amory was only too happy to be of service to 
 the man to whom he was bound by so many ties, 
 and whom he regarded with a feeling that was 
 little short of veneration. He now was ready to
 
 110 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 go. His hand-bag of letters and manuscripts was 
 strapped, and yet he lingered. 
 
 "Mr. Prescott," said he, "you have three 
 months in which to decide. Suppose you try to 
 find a partner, and make a new combination? 
 You may raise the money, and euchre Gibbs." 
 
 Mr. Prescott shook his head. " I am afraid not. 
 I am getting old. As you have been saying, I fear 
 I don't understand business. It was different 
 when I began. I got the seven companies for 
 whom we sell when my word was as good as my 
 bond, and every mill-agent and treasurer knew it. 
 Now affairs are changed. The mills need money, 
 and the selling agents have to raise it for them. 
 It is, a case of the servant becoming greater than 
 his nominal master. The corporations have got 
 to give their affairs into the hands of those who 
 can supply their wants, and their wants grow 
 every year. Gibbs can raise five dollars to my 
 one. He is lucky, believes in himself, and others 
 trust to his star. I shall have, perhaps, some sym- 
 pathy ; but I shall have to quit the street, sell the 
 house that my wife thinks so much of, and go into 
 the country. Exit Prescott." 
 
 "Still I beg of you hold on to your three 
 months. You can never tell what is going to hap- 
 pen. Gibbs may die." 
 
 " No chance of that. He is tough as a bull." 
 
 " So was Eben Fancher ; but dinners at the club, 
 and a carriage back and forth, did for him. Sur- 
 feit and laziness, physical inactivity, I mean, will
 
 MAN PROPOSES. Ill 
 
 do for any man. Gibbs will go the same road, 
 and they'll find him some day a dead load in his 
 coupe"." 
 
 " I can't speculate on such chances." 
 " No ; but you bide your time, and take the 
 chances that come. Good-by, Mr. Prescott. You 
 will hear from me. God bless you, sir, good-by ! " 
 The resolute little man walked off stoutly, but 
 with a quiver on his lip that Mr. Gibbs, who was 
 coming in, attributed to an emotion which the dis- 
 charged clerk never once felt. The partners, rec- 
 ognizing each other with a nod, withdrew to their 
 several rooms. Mr. Prescott marshalled his beg- 
 garly assets, and, after trying in vain to put his 
 mind to business, went out to take a stroll. 
 
 Mr. Gibbs watched the senior through the 
 crack of the door, and chuckled as he saw his 
 heavy step, and noted the deepening lines about 
 his eyes. Does the stock operator sorrow for the 
 man caught in his toils ? Does the hunter sorrow 
 for the stag brought down by his rifle ?
 
 112 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 UP to the moment that Robert Prescott left her 
 with that tender benediction, Phoebe had been 
 uncertain what she would do. When she left 
 home in the morning, she had determined not to 
 return, but to find some other place to live. The 
 advice of Signor Belvedere made a strong impres- 
 sion upon her, and she was almost persuaded to go 
 back to Mrs. Prescott. Then came her interview 
 with her lover, Robert, and it was very trying to 
 her. His personal magnetism was very strong. 
 His intellectual character gave his love-making a 
 tone which might seem unreal ; but to her it was 
 sincere and spontaneous. The spoken words had 
 a tender and winning quality, something that is 
 beyond types to represent. So strenuously had he 
 pressed the matter, that she was utterly weary and 
 overcome when left to herself. Furthermore, with 
 the recollection of this man, strong in mind and 
 heart as in body, with the sense of his purity, 
 straight-forwardness, and generosity, the contrast 
 between him and Roderick, the elegant sensualist, 
 was too painful to be considered for a moment. 
 With every remembered trait of the one, the idea 
 of the other grew more repulsive. She had parted
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 113 
 
 with the man whom she reverenced: could she 
 return to a companionship that she loathed ? The 
 strong and poetic man was solemn, and perhaps 
 repellent : the gay and graceful man was corrupt 
 and insincere, and they were the only admirers 
 she had ever known. She walked on, unobserv- 
 ant of streets, while these thoughts revolved in 
 her mind. She thought of Mrs. Prescott's concern 
 for her absence, of her alarm perhaps, and of a 
 search being made for her. She thought of Mr. 
 Prescott's surprise and distress. Once or twice 
 she half resolved to turn, and find her way back. 
 Then came the thought of the unspeakable ; and 
 her eyes flashed again, her mouth was firmly com- 
 pressed, her bosom heaved, and she strode on 
 among foul faces and evil eyes, through districts 
 as unknown to her as Africa. 
 
 In a narrow street, now mostly filled with shops 
 of mechanics, there was an old-fashioned brick 
 dwelling, whose ample doorway and carved pilas- 
 ters bore witness to the wealth and position of its 
 original occupants. The house seemed to have 
 withdrawn from the noise of the neighborhood, 
 relying upon the grim brick wall at the street-line 
 as a barrier. Through the open fret-work of the 
 iron gate in front, the windows might be seen 
 closely blinded. There was no bell-pull, only a 
 grim lion's-head knocker. There was once a 
 paved carriage-way at the side ; but grass and 
 weeds had covered the regular lines of cobble- 
 stones with thick, dusty tufts, and the great gate
 
 114 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 that used to be opened for carriages had been 
 nailed up for a generation. A brick building at 
 the rear of the yard, on the right of the house, 
 held the old family coach ; but it had been fastened 
 in an original way by a contrivance of nature's 
 own. A horse-chestnut tree had grown up in 
 front of the door to a goodly size, and closed it 
 effectually. However, it was no matter; for the 
 ancient yellow coach within was the home of rats, 
 and was festooned with cobwebs. No one had 
 seen it, apparently for years, except a few urchins, 
 who at times had scaled the fence, and looked in 
 at its faded splendor through the crack of the door. 
 
 Phoebe stood and looked in at the gate. This 
 was better than to go back to the poor and com- 
 fortless home of Mrs. Maloney. This was a place 
 of which she had often heard ; because it was the 
 residence of an eccentric lady, Miss Thorpe, who 
 was a friend of Mrs. Prescott, and had sometimes 
 attended the sessions of the Plato Club. A sud- 
 den impulse seized the girl. Of all the women 
 she had ever known, Miss Thorpe seemed to her 
 one of the most original -and most attractive. Not 
 that she felt the sympathy of likeness : she knew 
 that Miss Thorpe was in every respect a contrast. 
 But she knew that Miss Thorpe lived alone, with 
 only one servant, and that she was regarded as 
 the most actively, indefatigably charitable woman 
 in town. 
 
 Phoebe opened the gate and walked up the path, 
 and then with a sensation of dread raised the pon-
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 115 
 
 derous knocker, and let it clang against the solidly 
 panelled door. 
 
 She was admitted by a good-natured looking 
 Irish woman, with broad shoulders, ample chest, 
 wavy chestnut hair, and mild blue eyes, the very 
 counterpart of her old friend, Mrs. Maloney. The 
 servant evidently recognized Phoebe's face as being 
 a familiar one, and showed her into the drawing- 
 room. 
 
 A serene little woman came into the room. She 
 was perhaps forty years old. Her features were 
 smooth, and her complexion delicate almost to 
 transparency: her gray hair was brushed back 
 from her face, and its luxuriance gathered in a 
 classic coil behind. Very slight in figure she 
 seemed, but not weak or fragile. Her face wore 
 a look of dignity and gentleness. Her dress was 
 a neutral-tinted silk, plainly made. Her linen col- 
 lar was fastened by an antique cameo brooch ; but, 
 excepting a plain seal-ring on her right hand, she 
 wore no other jewelry. But these details, which 
 occupy so much space in description, came to the 
 eye at a glance ; for never was there a picture 
 more harmonious than the stately little lady pre- 
 sented. Figure, face, expression, carriage, and 
 costume belonged together, and had been fore- 
 ordained from the beginning. 
 
 How to address such a person ! What could a 
 homeless girl say ? 
 
 Fortunately Miss Thorpe remembered her vis- 
 itor, and with thoughtful kindness made her wel-
 
 116 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 come. The few minutes of preliminary common- 
 places often serve an important purpose ; and 
 Phoebe was very soon able to turn the conversa- 
 tion into the channel in which her tumultuous 
 thoughts were tossing about. So she told Miss 
 Thorpe what she remembered of her earlier years, 
 and of her residence with Mrs. Prescott. She 
 spoke with enthusiasm of Signer Belvedere and 
 of her progress in music. She spoke modestly of 
 her hopes and of her vague plans for her own 
 support, and added that, first of all, she wished 
 to get a home, and then to get pupils in singing. 
 
 "Does Mrs. Prescott know of this, of your 
 coming to me?" Miss Thorpe had noticed the 
 expression of pain in her face, and now saw it 
 grow more intense. 
 
 " Oh, no ! My coming here was a pure acci- 
 dent. I had heard of your house, and knew it 
 from description, and I came in because I had a 
 pleasant recollection of you. If I had not hap- 
 pened to pass here, and to think of you, I don't 
 know where I might have gone." 
 
 " Then I infer that you are leaving Mrs. Pres- 
 cott?" 
 
 " Yes. And this is the most painful thing, that 
 I can't tell you why. I beg of you don't ask me. 
 But I must say, for fear you will think ill of me, 
 that I don't leave for any fault of mine, not for 
 any quarrel or difference. I know Mrs. Prescott 
 is looking for me at this moment, and will be sur- 
 prised and grieved that I don't return." The tears 
 began to start.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 117 
 
 " But you will not go back ? " 
 
 Phoebe shook her head in silence. 
 
 " This is very singular," said Miss Thorpe, as if 
 in soliloquy, " and I don't know but I ought to see 
 Mrs. Prescott." 
 
 " I pray you don't think of it. If you wish it, 
 I will leave you. If you distrust me, I must leave 
 you. I only want a short time to think, to plan, 
 to get a good home, and get started as a teacher. 
 I don't wish to be dependent upon any one. 
 Pray don't speak of going to Mrs. Prescott. I 
 cannot bear it. I am not a runaway child." Her 
 sobs increased. 
 
 " Pray how old are you, miss? " 
 
 " Nineteen, nearly twenty." 
 
 " Old enough, certainly, to know your own 
 mind. And I do trust you, and will help you, 
 not perhaps wholly in the way you expect." 
 
 Miss Thorpe had been rapidly making a super- 
 ficial analysis, and it ran something like this : " A 
 good face, as well as a handsome one. Eyes clear 
 and truthful. Head fine, large, and well-balanced ; 
 temperament, though, is very sanguine. A dan- 
 gerous glow of feeling. Tendencies towards sen- 
 suous art. Susceptible to pleasure, and liable to 
 its retributions. Good reasoning faculties. May 
 escape the weakening of moral tone caused by 
 indulgence in music." 
 
 " The truth is, Miss Phoebe," she went on, " I 
 am not sure about your career as a singer, I 
 mean I couldn't advise you to follow it. Music
 
 118 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 should be only an occasional amusement. It is re- 
 bellion against reason, because it is an indulgence 
 in an emotion. An emotion may control an infant, 
 a savage, a Southern negro ; but reason alone con- 
 trols an intellectual being. Without the control 
 of reason, the soul is at sea. There are musical 
 emotions, and emotions of the beautiful in art ; 
 there are so-called religious emotions, and others 
 still stronger, not so often mentioned. I am not 
 sure that all emotions are not correlated, and glide 
 into each other like the forces of nature. But 
 this is a philosophy you have yet to learn. To 
 teach piano yes; and the art of singing yes, 
 up to a certain point. But the delirium of song, 
 especially of the passionate sort, is to be avoided." 
 She looked as steadfast as a piece of sculpture as 
 she uttered these sentences. 
 
 Phcebe felt that she was encountering a new 
 force. Mr. Prescott was always sensible, and 
 sometimes energetic ; Mrs. Prescott's nature was 
 receptive, easily pleased, fond of superlatives, too 
 indolent for consecutive thinking; but Miss Thorpe 
 was quite another person. Here was a woman, 
 who, with the sweetest tones and the most delicate 
 feminine emphasis, was letting fly definitions and 
 distinctions, and creating a new metaphysical 
 world. Phoebe was at once interested, piqued, 
 and nonplussed. She tried to measure herself 
 against this active, tireless nature. It was impos- 
 sible. In " thought's interior sphere " Phoebe had 
 almost every thing to learn.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 119 
 
 "But you look fatigued," said Miss Thorpe, 
 "and I dare say you are hungry. I envy you 
 fresh and hearty young people your appetites." 
 She led the way, and they walked into the next 
 room, and sat down to lunch. Miss Thorpe took 
 a cup of tea, a slice of toast, and a small piece of 
 honey in the comb. Phoebe was indeed hungry, 
 and could have devoured the delicate portion given 
 her in a moment; but she instinctively paused 
 when she noticed Miss Thorpe's slow and dainty 
 manner, and she could not help wondering what 
 those full rows of beautiful teeth could be doing 
 so long with those little bits of bread. Miss 
 Thorpe had brought herself to regard appetite as 
 something not quite in harmony with a spiritual 
 organization, and therefore to be repressed, 
 brought to a minimum, like the other unavoidable 
 accidents of this mortal life. But, now that she 
 looked more closely at Phoebe, she said, " I don't 
 believe you breakfasted, either. You need food 
 and rest." 
 
 She rang a bell; and, when the servant appeared, 
 she ordered a slice of steak broiled, and would 
 hear of no objection on Phoebe's part. 
 
 " I cannot quite make up my mind to do with- 
 out animal food, Phcebe, we will drop the ' Miss,' 
 if you please, though I seldom eat it more than 
 twice a week. But I must say I have some com- 
 punctions about eating flesh. I feel that I am an 
 abettor of murder when I taste it. I have never 
 seen any answer to the gentle creed of Goldsmith's 
 hermit:
 
 120 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 ' Xo flocks that range the hillside free 
 
 To slaughter I condemn : 
 Taught by the Power that pities me, 
 I learn to pity them.' " 
 
 Here the slice of steak came in, not a very for- 
 midable one as it seemed to Phrebe. 
 
 Miss Thorpe went on. "Eat, my dear girl. I 
 like to see you enjoy it. Some Malthus of herds 
 will give us the other side of the argument, as 
 to flesh-eating, I mean. But it is against our finer 
 instincts, against mercy, and, I am afraid, against 
 justice, to take life without necessity. But I for- 
 get that my philosophy may spoil your appetite." 
 
 Phoebe wondered who Malthus was, and why 
 he was opposed to eating beefsteak; but she 
 thought she would not inquire then. There were 
 books everywhere in the rooms; and she prom- 
 ised herself she would read some, enough, at any 
 rate, to enable her to understand what Miss 
 Thorpe was talking about. 
 
 After lunch Phuebe refreshed her tear-stained 
 eyes with water; and, as the sorrowful look faded, 
 her beauty shone out like Cowper's rose "just 
 washed in a shower." 
 
 It was settled, that, for the present, she was to 
 remain with Miss Thorpe, and that a letter should 
 at once be sent by Phoabe to Mrs. Prescott. The 
 arrangements for the future were to be afterwards 
 discussed. A boy was found to carry the letter ; 
 but as he was thoughtlessly paid beforehand, and 
 quite liberally, he could not cross to the fashion-
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 121 
 
 able quarter where the Prescotts lived; until he 
 had "treated" a number of the gamins of the 
 neighborhood to peanuts and ginger-snaps, and 
 had cut up a number of antics besides. When 
 fairly ready, the little rascal could not find the 
 letter, but was not honest enough to make known 
 the loss. For this reason Mrs. Prescott (as we 
 have already seen) did not hear from Phoebe. 
 
 Lest it might be thought that Miss Thorpe's 
 mode of life was dictated by parsimony, the reader 
 should know, that, though the lady had an ample 
 income, she spent little of it upon herself; and, as 
 she kept a minute account of every day, diary 
 and petty cash-book together, the entries for the 
 day just closing will best show her character. 
 
 "MEM. To market: beef, thirty cents; bread, ten 
 cents; one pound butter, fifty cents; two oranges, ten 
 cents. Shoes for Bridget's sister, three dollars. Tickets to 
 
 Hertz's Concert (blind) one dollar. 'Loaned' the Rev. 
 
 (a good man and bad manager) ten dollars. Gave 
 
 Phoebe for spending-money (till she earns some) five dol- 
 lars." 
 
 All the pages of that diary show a like dis- 
 parity, a linnet's rations for herself, the bulk of 
 her daily expenditure in bounty to others. 
 
 When evening came Phoebe was shown to her 
 chamber. It was neatly furnished with a fine old- 
 fashioned dressing-bureau, easy-chairs with chintz 
 covers, and handsome curtains. A cool and pure 
 air pervaded the room, renewed by a swinging
 
 122 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 window-pane and an open fireplace. There was a 
 portrait in oil on one of the walls, somewhat 
 resembling Miss Thorpe, though younger and 
 rosier. On the white counterpane were a wo- 
 man's garments, too large for the slender hostess, 
 and apparently made for a fuller and statelier 
 figure. 
 
 In spite of all she had gone through, Pho?,be 
 slept peacefully. The face in the portrait smiled 
 on her as she woke ; the eyes followed her as she 
 made her toilet, and put away the delicate cam- 
 bric robes she had worn ; and the lips pouted out 
 a kiss as she left the chamber.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 123 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE civil war had been for some time in prog- 
 ress : the line of battle stretched half across the 
 continent. It seems now like a hideous night- 
 mare to recall the havoc that attended those 
 eventful years. The alternations of hope and 
 despair, the continued filling-up of shattered regi- 
 ments to be again decimated, the capture of forts, 
 the loss of men-of-war, the awful but indecisive 
 struggles between armies such as no European cap- 
 tain ever led, this has been an experience which 
 even now is hardly realized, except by the actors 
 in the terrible drama, and which all good men 
 must hope will never come again to us, nor to 
 our children. The two contending sections were 
 equally matched in muscle and endurance ; and, if 
 there had not been a disparity in numbers and in 
 resources, the struggle might have been protracted 
 as long as a man was left on either side to fire a 
 gun. 
 
 The first alarm called off the adventurous, the 
 .unemployed, the ambitious. As the war went on, 
 the plough went deeper into the soil. Men of 
 maturer years and established position enlisted. 
 Lawyers and judges, merchants and gentlemen of
 
 124 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 leisure, felt the solemn call. Studious and schol- 
 arly men listened to the boding drum-beat, and felt 
 their hearts throbbing in response. Silken gallants 
 left their clubs and their social pleasures, and 
 cantered off gayly to the rendezvous with death. 
 
 One may be certain that the excitement was 
 deep and pervading when a youth like Roderick 
 Prescott was ready to go into the field, and con- 
 tent himself with a soldier's fare. However, a 
 good number from his club had already gone. 
 Some were still in service as staff and line officers ; 
 some were at home wounded; some were recruit- 
 ing ; some were in captivity ; and quite as many 
 were lying under Southern soil. Roderick was 
 naturally brave, and the thought of danger was 
 almost an attraction ; but he had never before 
 exhibited so much activity or spirit. He knew 
 that his acceptance of a command in a negro regi- 
 ment put him in double peril ; because the enemy 
 had proclaimed that no quarter would be given to 
 the colored troops, whether officers or men. Rod- 
 erick had not chosen this service ; but at the time 
 no other new infantry regiment was forming ; and, 
 as for the old regiments in service, the great and 
 wise governor rarely gave commissions except by 
 promotion. 
 
 Roderick, like the majority of young men in 
 society, had no politics, least of all any senti- 
 mental politics. His company consisted of so mairy 
 rows of machines to load and fire muskets : theii 
 color was of no consequence. There were othera
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 125 
 
 who were moved by AN IDEA, among them, con- 
 spicuously the hero for whom Fort Wagner will 
 stand as a monument forever. Roderick went 
 into training with eagerness. It is astonishing 
 how much can be done in a short time by one 
 who gives his whole soul to the task. In a very 
 few days he mastered the elementary facts of mili- 
 tary discipline ; and then he followed up resolutely 
 the practice of a sergeant, a lieutenant, and a 
 captain. The great hall where much of the pre- 
 liminary drill went on was his home : afterwards 
 he lived in the suburban camp with his soldiers. 
 Temperate, earnest, and indefatigable, he ad- 
 vanced in knowledge and in the development of a 
 soldier's character, till he won the admiration of 
 all. There was no talk of "blue blood," nor of 
 "playing soldier." Every man who handled a 
 musket respected this severe and resolute officer. 
 The stoutest radical had to admit that this man of 
 birth and breeding, with soft hands, and effemi- 
 nate manners, had the sturdy Saxon pluck in him. 
 The metamorphosis of the dandy into the officer 
 was complete. 
 
 Mr. Hugh Prescott was the person most aston- 
 ished by the change. He had frequently visited 
 the armory, and afterwards the camp, in company 
 with his stepson, and was gratified by his profi- 
 ciency, and proud of the respect he saw accorded 
 to him. Roderick was so much occupied, that he 
 had little time for his mother's society ; but his 
 demeanor towards her was tender arid respectful.
 
 126 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 She gradually became accustomed to the idea of 
 parting from him, and was able to converse with 
 him calmly; and she devoted her time to the 
 preparation of elegant and useless conveniences 
 which, she supposed would adorn his tent. 
 
 Roderick's opportunity to make his peace with 
 Phoebe had not yet come. He was naturally re- 
 luctant to make his apology conspicuous by calling 
 on her at Miss Thorpe's house ; and his step-father, 
 on further consideration, had thought best not to 
 insist upon the girl's return until after the regiment 
 had left for the seat of war. 
 
 Daily the town was stirred up by the beating 
 of drums ; and the fife's shrill music rose over the 
 noise of the streets. Squads of serious, eager men, 
 paraded, carrying the beautiful national flag, and 
 followed by all eyes as they passed. The war 
 was a tremendous fact, and was brought home 
 in all its weight and terror to every human being. 
 At length the colored regiment was filled up, the 
 commissions were issued ; and Roderick, who had 
 been promised a captaincy, was appointed major. 
 
 The day came when the regiment was to leave 
 for the seat of war. A stand of colors was to be 
 presented by the State authorities, and there was 
 to be a review and a glorious "send off." The 
 regimental flag had been made by ladies, the 
 mothers, sisters, and wives of the officers. Quar- 
 ter-masters and commissaries had completed their 
 long and tedious preparations. The line was 
 formed ; and, amid the long roll of drums and the
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 127 
 
 piercing notes of wind instruments, the grand 
 salute was given ; and while a thousand muskets 
 and a thousand dark faces gleamed at "Present 
 arms ! " the governor and staff came forward. 
 With them came a great orator to make the pres- 
 entation speech, a man somewhat past his prime, 
 but still in the maturity of his brilliant powers. 
 He took the silken flag, and addressed the officers 
 and men. His voice and his enthusiasm rose with 
 the occasion, until his thoughts took form in glow- 
 ing words. He touched the chords that have 
 swayed men in all times. His face was pale, in- 
 spired by great thought and strong emotion ; and 
 many of the officers shed unwonted tears as he 
 finished. Every listener fancied himself a hero 
 while under the spell of this eloquence. 
 
 The ceremony was over. The regiment was 
 allowed half an hour's recreation. Arms were 
 stacked ; and soldiers went to the lines in the rear 
 to say a good-by to wives, daughters, parents, and 
 brothers. In those precious, terrible moments, 
 what agonies of love and anguish were suffered ! 
 Of the thousand brave men that stood at the lines, 
 looking forward cheerfully to the grim future, and 
 soothing the grief of those left behind, how many 
 now are wakened to any music ! Most of them lie 
 in far off-humble graves, many without a stone, 
 their last resting-places known only to the infinite 
 pitying One. 
 
 Meanwhile the officers, their friends, and the 
 authorities, were to meet in a marquee for the final
 
 128 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 leave-taking. The marquee was pitched on the 
 brow of a gentle hill overlooking the parade- 
 ground ; and thousands of citizens men and 
 women, who had gathered to witness the thrilling 
 scene were in close ranks on the grass near by. 
 The officers had dismounted, and were approach- 
 ing the line against which the multiude swayed. 
 Conspicuous among them for his graceful form 
 and soldierly carriage was Major Prescott. His 
 step-father was near the tent, and the two met in 
 silence with a strong hand-grasp. 
 
 For a moment neither could speak. At length 
 the elder, pointing to the tent, said, 
 
 " Your mother, at the last moment, changed her 
 mind, and came." 
 
 "She is here, then?" said her son. He was 
 rather sorry. He had parted with her in the 
 morning, and he feared a scene. 
 
 " Let us not sit down to cry," said Mr. Prescott. 
 " We don't want any refreshment, and it is better 
 to pass the time in a way to divert your mother's 
 attention. Go to her, and propose a walk on the 
 parade-ground." 
 
 The suggestion was a good one. The young- 
 man hastily collected his faculties, and, in a light 
 and jaunty manner, entered the tent, and ap- 
 proached his mother. Taking her hand, he pro- 
 posed to saunter about in the open air. She 
 looked like one without will or self-control. Her 
 face told of unutterable things. She took her 
 son's arm, and the three walked slowly out into
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 129 
 
 the open plain. They passed for some distance 
 along the line without speaking. It was a perfect 
 day. The grass was a beautiful carpet, and the 
 trees around were still in their freshest robes of 
 green. Suddenly Roderick was aware of the pres- 
 ence of persons who recognized him. Within 
 arm's length, but outside the line, stood Miss 
 Thorpe and Phoebe. He was surprised, and deep- 
 ly moved. The elder lady wore the usual pearl- 
 gray suit of silk, and a bonnet that would have 
 become a fair Quaker. Phoebe, whose fine classic 
 features, cream-tinted complexion, and lustrous 
 dark hair, made her so conspicuously beautiful, 
 was attired in a gauzy robe that it would be pro- 
 saic to call yellow, but which borrowed the deli- 
 cate hues of the jessamine, and, where the folds 
 hung in masses, had the rich, deep color of the 
 dandelion. Her ornaments were pale coral. She 
 was a vision such as nature repeats once or twice 
 in a generation, to show that beauty is not the 
 creation of the painter, and to keep alive the tra- 
 dition of the golden age. So might Egeria have 
 appeared to the ravished Numa. So Clytie looked, 
 bursting from the heart of the sunflower. So 
 Diana was revealed to Endymion. The lover re- 
 creates the past ; and nymphs, naiads, and graces 
 people his waking dreams. 
 
 It takes but a glance to sweep over these 
 details. But Roderick probably did not see them 
 at all, but only perceived the harmony and the 
 instant total impression. His position was most
 
 180 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 painful. He -was beset with difficulties. He felt 
 that he really ought to love Phcebe, in spite of 
 the wrong he had done her. He would have 
 fallen on his knees abjectly to ask her forgive- 
 ness. This was his only opportunity. But there 
 stood his mother, and there was the placid but 
 vigilant Miss Thorpe. The mother had never 
 known of the indignity, for the two men had 
 kept their counsel. 
 
 Mr. Prescott exclaimed, " Why, Phcebe, you 
 wicked, perverse creature ! Come in here ! Rod- 
 erick, let the guard pass the ladies in ! Why, you 
 runaway, you naughty girl ! you have broken my 
 heart. My respects to you, Miss Thorpe ; but 
 you can't love this ungrateful darling as I do. 
 You are not a childless old man : you don't 
 need her." He apparently was determined to 
 admit no reply, but kept the reins in his own 
 hands, and went on: "To think, Phcebe, that I 
 see you again, and looking so charming ! I was 
 .afraid you might have fared ill. God only knows 
 what might have happened to a friendless girl in 
 the streets. Now, after this ceremony is over, you 
 will go back with us. No compulsion, only you 
 must. I am Sir Anthony to-day, and put up with 
 no nonsense." 
 
 Mrs. Prescott meanwhile had seized Phoebe's 
 hand with fervor, while her features were strug- 
 gling with hysterical emotion. Phcebe scarcely 
 uttered a word ; and, though she showed in her 
 eyes a warm affection, the color mounted to her
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 131 
 
 face, and crimsoned even her ivory neck. The 
 memory of her fierce wrath was coming back. 
 Mrs. Prescott saw this, and noticed, too, that Rod- 
 erick was moody and silent. She did not cor- 
 rectly interpret the scene. In her opinion Roder- 
 ick had proposed marriage to Phcebe, and had 
 been rejected. The theory received confirmation 
 in her mind from every look of the young people. 
 This, then, was the cause of Phoebe's leaving the 
 house, and this the reason why her darling son 
 was going to the war. All for a girl's black eyes 
 he was going away to be shot. She had not 
 trusted herself to speak, but kept her mouth 
 rigidly shut. Her breath came quicker. The tide 
 of feeling swelled higher, and surged in her heart. 
 More and more her expressive features told of the 
 struggle within. It could end in but one way. 
 She burst into an uncontrollable passion of weep- 
 ing, and between her sobs exclaimed, " O Phrebe ! 
 is it for you, that I am going to lose my son ? " 
 
 Her husband and Roderick in vain strove to 
 soothe and quiet her. The current could not be 
 checked; and Mr. Prescott, not to imbitter the 
 little time remaining with unavailing cries and 
 reproaches, led her a short distance away, hoping 
 that she would recover her composure. Roderick 
 seized the moment, unmindful of Miss Thorpe, 
 although her presence colored his phrases, and put 
 a check on the expression of his feeling. It was 
 an effort such as he had never made before. 
 
 "Miss Phcebe," said he in a tender and respect-
 
 132 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 ful tone, " I am going away, and may never 
 return. I hope for the best ; but I know the risk, 
 and mean to face it without fear. I wish to leave 
 behind me in the memory of friends a I 
 wish them to think of me as one whose errors 
 as one who meant better than he sometimes did. 
 There are things that a man don't forget, can't 
 forget, can't excuse himself for." 
 
 Here Miss Thorpe said simply, " Phoebe, if you 
 will excuse me, I think I will join Mrs. Prescott." 
 
 Roderick was properly grateful ; but Phoebe 
 was less so, in fact, she appeared rather annoyed. 
 
 " O Phoebe ! " he went on, " you have come to a 
 beautiful womanhood so suddenly. I thought of 
 you only a short time ago as a schoolgirl : now 
 you are so stately in your ways. I can't tell you 
 how you affect me as I am with you. I could 
 worship you. But when you are away, as often as 
 I try to think of you, there comes a cloud over 
 your face, I see you turning away in anger. I 
 confess to myself that your anger is just ; but it 
 kills me. There are things I should like to wash 
 out with my tears; and, if they didn't do it, I 
 would pour out my blood." 
 
 Phoebe had listened pityingly. She was think- 
 ing more, however, of the distressed mother, and 
 feeling that her resentment had actually driven 
 the young man to despair. 
 
 " Say to me that you forgive me," he said. 
 
 " I do forgive you," she replied solemnly ; " but 
 to forget is sometimes out of our power."
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 133 
 
 " I know," he said almost bitterly. " But when 
 one says, ' I forgive, but can't forget,' it shows that 
 the forgiveness is not very hearty." 
 
 " I do forgive you," she repeated, " and I shall 
 try to think of you as you are to-day. You 
 won't be offended, will you, if I say you haven't 
 always been so? It isn't the fashion for young 
 men to be serious. I used to think you studied to 
 be disagreeable, it was such a thoughtless manner 
 you affected. This is the time for truth, and you 
 must bear it. But to-day, Roderick,- I can't 
 say You are like another man. It was not 
 this Roderick that grieved and wounded me." 
 
 There was a tremor in her tones that he inter- 
 preted as a softening of her feelings towards him. 
 If he dared ? Yes, he must follow his feelings, or 
 his purpose, or both. 
 
 " Do you think, after all you have suffered on 
 my account, if you really believed I had changed, 
 and had become what you wished, do you 
 believe your feelings would change? I don't 
 speak of respect simply, for I mean to deserve 
 that, but to any warmer regard ? " 
 
 " Roderick," she said, " in this moment, when 
 you have so much to think of, don't you think 
 it better to leave this, to avoid what would 
 pain us both ? " 
 
 " But in this last moment I am selfish enough 
 to want to speak of the one thing that is dearer to 
 me than life." 
 
 " You are excited, Roderick. You are heartily
 
 134 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 sorry, I can see. You wish to atone for your 
 wrong, and your feelings carry you beyond. 
 Isn't it enough that I forgive you ? " 
 
 " No, Phoebe, not enough. My conscience makes 
 a coward of me, or I would follow this up, yes, 
 I would take your hand, and lead you to my 
 father and mother. I would not let you go. As 
 it is, I will prove my sincerity by my conduct. I 
 will shed my blood to prove it. If I return, 
 Phoebe, I shall return to claim you. You won't 
 deny me ? This thought will comfort me in tent, 
 on the march, in the battle. Phoebe, my life 
 belongs to you. I think more of the hope of 
 being worthy of you than of my country or my 
 God." 
 
 This vehemence almost overpowered her. She 
 felt strangely perplexed. She did not doubt his 
 repentance, although she could not in her heart 
 thoroughly trust him. She did not wish to have 
 him go away feeling that he had not been for- 
 given. She was quite sure, that, but for his 
 remorse at her flight, he would have staid at home 
 to comfort his mother. And how much she owed 
 to that mother! Should she send him away in 
 despair? Like most women, she temporized. 
 
 " This is very sudden, Roderick. I can't say 
 that I am sure of my own mind. I don't know 
 how I shall feel when this terrible struggle is over, 
 and you are away. I sha'n't forget your generous 
 words. I shall think of you, and pray for you. I 
 grieve to think that it was that I was the iimo-
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 135 
 
 cent cause. And you don't know how your moth- 
 er's anguish touched me. It seems that I am your 
 fate and, if you should fall" She could go 
 on no farther. 
 
 " Let me hope that I shall live for you. You 
 must pardon my mother. She is unreasoning, and 
 to-day there is but one subject in her mind. But, 
 Phoebe, don't let me go without hope. Pray 
 return home with my mother and comfort her ; be 
 a daughter to her." 
 
 " If she asks me, I will return." 
 
 " Let me tell her something to make her cheer- 
 ful, tell her that you will be her dear daughter." 
 
 Phcebe shook her head. "These things must 
 shape themselves : we can't control them." 
 
 They were now at the farthest part of the 
 parade-ground. The men had been refreshed 
 with a bountiful collation, and were getting on 
 their knapsacks, and taking their guns. All about 
 the large quadrangle the people waited, forming a 
 dense background for the moving picture. The 
 officers were coming out of the marquee, servants 
 came up with the horses ; and then the thrilling 
 tantara of the trumpet called Roderick from his 
 ideal world. 
 
 " God's will be done, Phoebe ! " said he. " I can 
 say no more. Let us walk rapidly back. Father 
 and mother and Miss Thorpe are on the brow of 
 the hill. I will leave you with them, and then" 
 
 Phcebe was greatly agitated. Her eyes were 
 misty, and she almost lost her footing as they
 
 136 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 pressed on. Roderick's servant followed him 
 with his eyes ; arid, by the time the family met, 
 the horse was waiting. He flung his arm about 
 his mother's neck, and kissed her, bade farewell 
 stoutly to his step-father, shook hands with Miss 
 Thorpe, and, with a soul full of anguish, gave a 
 parting hand-shake to Phoebe. Mounting his 
 horse, he spurred to his place in the line. 
 
 Shouts arose from all sides of the quadrangle, 
 tumultuous and incessant, like the sound of waves. 
 The cannon thundered ; the band played a lively 
 melody. Flags streamed in the air, and white 
 handkerchiefs fluttered on every side, looking in 
 the distance like white blossoms shaken by the 
 wind. Another cannon was heard ; then all was 
 still. The line was formed. The adjutant re- 
 ported. The colonel shouted the order to forward. 
 Then, amid roars of cheers, the drums and fifes 
 struck up, sounds once inspiring to us, but now 
 associated with all that is terrible in war. The 
 line broke into platoons ; and with a steady step 
 the th regiment passed from the beautiful field 
 to the wharf where the transport steamer lay. 
 What the men felt, few returned to tell ; but every 
 spectator struggled with a lump in his throat, and 
 from men and women alike there was a sudden 
 gush of tears like Tain. 
 
 They were black men going to fight for a 
 country in which they had no part, a country 
 in which they were aliens and strangers.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 137 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE sound of the drums was dying away in the 
 distance, and the crowd had mostly dispersed ; but 
 Mrs. Prescott remained in the marquee half uncon- 
 scious, and sobbing hysterically. A consultation 
 was had, and it was determined that Phoabe should 
 for this day return with Miss Thorpe, but should 
 shortly revisit her home when Mrs. Prescott was 
 restored. By the help of a policeman, Mr. Pres- 
 cott got a carriage for his wife. Miss Thorpe and 
 Phoabe preferred to walk. 
 
 When they reached the house, they were admit- 
 ted by Mrs. Maloney, who explained that she was 
 keeping house while her sister Bridget was gone 
 to see the soldiers. Mrs. Maloney was overjoyed 
 to meet her darling Phoebe, whom she had seen 
 but seldom since Mrs. Prescott took charge of 
 her. 
 
 The scenes of the day had been very trying to 
 Phoebe. Continually rang in her ears the ago- 
 nized cry of Mrs. Prescott, " It te for you that I 
 have lost my son ; " while in her fancy endless files 
 of men in blue, with glittering arms, marched to 
 the sound of drum and fife, and handsome officers 
 led the way to death or glory.
 
 138 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 Her whole being throbbed with the fierce 
 excitement. She thought of Mr. Prescott's fa- 
 therly kindness, and of his wife's unaffected good- 
 ness towards her for so many years, and the debt 
 of gratitude seemed beyond reckoning. In Rod- 
 erick's repentance she had forgiven his fault. As 
 fire burns out plague, she believed love had con- 
 sumed the old lawless impulses. Roderick was 
 a hero. He would come back as famous as his 
 great-grandfather the admiral. And what then ? 
 That made her pause. For he was coming for her : 
 so he said. Did she love him ? She pitied him 
 for his sufferings, for his self-abasement, and for 
 his mother's sake : beyond this she did not con- 
 sciously go. 
 
 Miss Thorpe asked no questions about her inter- 
 view on the parade-ground with Roderick ; for she 
 saw that the girl was sorely troubled. But Phoebe 
 volunteered the remark that Major Prescott had 
 been rude to her on an occasion, but that he had 
 apologized, and she had forgiven him. To relate 
 this was easier than to be cross-examined. 
 
 When supper was over, Miss Thorpe, desiring 
 to change the current of thought, said, " Phoebe, I 
 suppose Mrs. Maloney seems something like a 
 mother to you, and perhaps you would like to 
 have her come in for a while. Do you remember 
 your own mother ? " 
 
 "I scarcely remember her. There is a faint 
 recollection of a delicate woman with creamy com- 
 plexion and great melancholy black eyes, not
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 139 
 
 quite so tall as I am, looking quite ill and 
 dejected. This is the way it comes to me ; but 
 the image is faint, and, as it were, distant. I 
 should like to see Mrs. Maloney; though 1 have 
 never got much from her. She doesn't even 
 know my mother's full name. She thinks my 
 father died while I was a babe." 
 
 "Then she had seen your father?'" 
 
 " I think not, but am not sure. Certainly she 
 had heard about him." 
 
 " You have no memento, or relic of them ? " 
 
 " Nothing." 
 
 "It may not be very important to your future 
 life, for that must lie much in the sphere of your 
 own will ; but it is a pardonable curiosity to know 
 the source of one's being, the ancestral traits and 
 tendencies. One of your parents was musical, I 
 suppose." 
 
 " Oh, yes ! my mother. There is a sound that 
 comes to my ears when I think of her, a low, 
 sweet tremulous tone, a cradle-song that was wor- 
 ship and lullaby both. I imagine it a hymn to the 
 Virgin, and a mother's blessing blended with it." 
 
 Mrs. Maloney came in, and went over the sad 
 story she had so many times repeated to Phcebe. 
 It was little she knew. A friendless woman with 
 a young child with a sweet and sorrowful face, 
 and a slight foreign accent in her speech, with 
 manners that belong only to a lady had hired a 
 room in a large tenement-house. She had a name 
 which the good simple woman could not catch, and
 
 140 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 therefore could not now remember. The forlorn 
 mother had picked out the stitched letters on her 
 handkerchief: evidently she was covering her 
 traces. No one came to see her, not one, until, as 
 she fell sick, the city physician attended her. She 
 left not a single letter. Her few clothes (only a 
 small trunk full), Mrs. Maloney was fain to sell 
 to get money to help support the child ; for the 
 good woman took the child as her own, and 
 bestowed upon her all a mother's love. It was 
 about all she had to bestow, except a share in the 
 milk, bread, and potatoes she earned by washing. 
 As time wore on, Mrs. Maloney began to think that 
 the girl, who should have been a lady, ought to 
 go to school, and ought, in fact, to have a "bring- 
 ing up " beyond what a poor woman like herself 
 could give her. Providence led Mrs. Prescott that 
 way; and, as she proposed to take and educate 
 the girl, the heroic woman gave her up, though 
 it almost broke her heart to do it. 
 
 "You knew the child's name?" asked Miss 
 Thorpe. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! Her mother called her Phayba ; and, 
 besides, she had written out all her names some- 
 where in a book." 
 
 "What was the book?" 
 
 " A mass-book." 
 
 " In English ? " 
 
 " No : in such as the priest talks. They call it 
 Latin, I b'lieve." 
 
 " And what became of that book ? "
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 141 
 
 " It was sold with the mother's clothes, and I 
 disremember who to." 
 
 Miss Thorpe took the woman into the library, 
 and, pointing to various books, got her to designate 
 the shape, size, and style of binding. It is need- 
 less to say that Mrs. Maloney was not a connois- 
 seur; but Miss Thorpe finally got hints enough to 
 make it probable that it was a prayer-book in 
 Latin or Italian, eighteen mo, gilt-edged, though 
 worn, bound in black morocco, with a clasp. Such 
 a book, she meditated, would not probably have 
 been destroyed. It was likely to be in existence. 
 And in it was Phrebe's full name ! Perhaps it was 
 in some second-hand bookstore, or in the hands 
 of some collector of curiosities. 
 
 Dismissing Mrs. Maloney with thanks, and some- 
 thing more, she said, " That book must be found." 
 
 " But I am afraid it is a hopeless task," said 
 Phcebe." 
 
 " Nothing is hopeless. I will advertise it ; offer 
 a handsome reward, that will cause a search to be 
 made." 
 
 Phoabe only looked gloomy and thoughtful. 
 
 " Your poor mother ! " continued Miss Thorpe. 
 "Do you know I think we shall find she was a 
 singer, perhaps a great one, certainly beautiful 
 and cultivated; that she married some man of 
 fashion who mistreated her; that his friends cast 
 them off; that, after he died, she was broken in 
 spirit and in fortune ? That is the way with sing- 
 TS. Emotional beings, they surrender will, for-
 
 142 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 tune, life itself, to a transient impulse. They 
 marry badly : their husbands always live on their 
 earnings, and love them only while flowers and dia- 
 monds are plenty, and the career of success contin- 
 ues. You have noticed the picture in your room ? 
 That is the portrait of my sister, my half- 
 sister I should say. The sketch I have drawn for 
 your mother was substantially that sister's history. 
 It is the common fate of those bright creatures. 
 Her clothes are in your wardrobe ; you have no- 
 ticed their size. She was not a thin, insignificant 
 creature like me. Her beautiful night-dresses 
 you have worn ; and this rich yellow tissue you 
 are wearing was hers. But my poor sister, so we 
 heard, was never blessed (or burdened) with a 
 child. She went abroad, and died there. I don't 
 know where her body rests. We have only her 
 beautiful image here. At one time she was com- 
 ing home, so it was said, and a trunk came with a 
 portion of her clothes." 
 
 Phoebe heaved a deep sigh of sympathy. The 
 story was full of pain to her ; yet she could not 
 keep her mind upon it, for every moment the 
 thought of Mrs. Prescott's sharp cry returned, and 
 she saw the writhing muscles that told of the 
 mother's agony. Yes, she had driven the young 
 man away : she had made her protectors wretch- 
 ed for life. 
 
 Miss Thorpe's face was a study while she 
 touched lightly on these sacred topics. She 
 seemed a being all nerve, resolve, and will, yet
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 143 
 
 the most delicate and womanly of women since 
 Eve. One could but wonder if she were utterly 
 cold on the physical side of her nature ; if her 
 intellect were really built up of geometrical fig- 
 ures, like the architecture of the frost, in perfect 
 symmetry, capable of sustaining itself, and proving 
 its right to be, and finished with a Q. E. D. at the 
 pinnacle. 
 
 Phoebe, beside this statue of reasoning alabas- 
 ter, reminded one of a tropical plant in blossom. 
 But whoever looked at Phoebe twice saw that the 
 luxuriance of nature in her had no element of 
 weakness, none of the soft over-ripeness that be- 
 longs to the Helens and Cleopatras. The elderly 
 maiden received the homage due to pure intel- 
 lect. Phoebe was indescribably attractive : every 
 one who saw her was her slave from the first. 
 But both equally commanded respect, and seemed 
 equally entitled to the most chivalrous service. 
 
 "I rather dread to meet Mrs. Prescott," said 
 Phoebe, "and I want you to go with me. Her 
 reproaches I cannot bear. I left her house 
 because because it was hard to keep self-respect. 
 I could not help it if her son wished to make him- 
 self unhappy about me, and did not wish to be 
 myself unhappy about him. But he seemed very 
 different when he went away. Truly, Miss 
 Thorpe, at the last, he was grand." 
 
 "I can imagine," said Miss Thorpe reflectively, 
 "as a gay young person, he has had no motives 
 but selfishness and vanity. There is a refined
 
 144 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 cruelty in all that they call good-breeding. One 
 grasp of a backwoodsman's hand such as I had 
 when I left the Adirondacks is worth all the cool 
 and polished civilities that we meet here in a 
 whole season. But the simpering dandy face to 
 face with terrible realities is coerced or frightened 
 into downright sincerity. As the young men say, 
 it drives the nonsense out, this preparing to meet, 
 man to man, foot to foot, steel to steel. Yes, war 
 is a terrible teacher ; but useful lessons are taught. 
 Perhaps it was worth while, even if that fop should 
 be killed, to have lived a month of pure manliness. 
 I am not hard. I know he is a sorrowing mother's 
 son ; but every one who takes the chances of bat- 
 tle is some mother's son. But I will go with you : 
 we will see how she stands. If there is any thing, 
 the least ' if,' you will return with me. And, 
 my dear Phcsbe, whatever she may say, I don't 
 wish to give you up altogether. I am not so 
 young as I was. I begin to feel that I want to 
 sun myself, as old people do, in the light of some 
 young face. I want you to stay with me as 
 much as you can. We will make a compromise. 
 You shall be the light of two sunless houses by 
 turns." 
 
 " My dearest friend," said Phoebe, " I am grate- 
 ful, believe me, not only for your kindness, but 
 for the strength you give me. Your thoughts in- 
 spire me. I have learned much with you that I 
 can never forget. I am not quick, like you, and I 
 don't keep up with your thoughts; but I know
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 145 
 
 you will forgive me. I must be myself I can't 
 pretend and I do love music and I love my 
 grand old teacher and I want to see him. I 
 want to pour out my soul sometimes. How would 
 the bird feel if he were shut up, and told not to 
 sing? It is emotion, I know; but I have the emo- 
 tion, although you think it is unworthy ; arid the 
 emotion belongs to me, it is me. I wish I had a 
 piano this moment. Isn't it better to sing than to 
 cry ? And I am so full of trouble and I don't 
 know how to bear it; and, if I could sing, my 
 soul would rise on wings. Is it wrong? Then 
 why did God give me a voice, and sympathy, and 
 a soul to delight in music ? " 
 
 " You are eloquent when your feelings prompt 
 you, and I cannot blame you for insisting on 
 being yourself. The Master, who forbade us to 
 look for grapes from thorns, or figs from thistles, 
 knew that I should love philosophy and you music. 
 Be it so. But yet I would try to save you from 
 the dreadful trials and temptations of a public 
 career. My dear Phoebe, sing, if you must (I see 
 it is pleasure, worship, life itself, to you), but sing 
 to me, to Mrs. Prescott, and your other friends. 
 Shun the intoxication of public applause. It 
 exhilarates, but maddens. It unfits one who has 
 felt it for the repose of domestic life. Save your 
 s,weetest notes for him whom you are to love. A. 
 song to your husband (provided he is worth sing- 
 ing to), or a lullaby to your first-born in a cradle, 
 is something nobler than the greatest, efforts of 
 the bejewelled prima donna."
 
 146 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 Phoebe hardly felt able to grapple with this 
 topic as she would. She thought that this was 
 rather a stern repression. "Because I arn a 
 woman," she said, "am I to be silent when the 
 Creator has given me power to sing? Will you 
 say to the artist, ' Paint only for your wife ' ? 
 Should Longfellow sing only to his children ? " 
 
 "I know, my dear," said Miss Thorpe, "that 
 my single life might be turned against me. I 
 have never known the feeling that would make 
 me desire to surrender my personality, or blend it 
 with that of another. I have spoken of emotions 
 before. This is one of them. If I had ever felt 
 it, I would have trampled it out. But, for my sex 
 in general, I see their duty and their destiny. 
 They are to be wives and mothers. They are to 
 create homes. Now, though there may be excep- 
 tions, I must take ground against any pursuit or 
 aspiration that tends to disqualify woman for the 
 great function of maternity. Of what a public 
 career does in this respect we have unhappily too 
 much evidence." 
 
 " But suppose one has the inspiration and the 
 art?" 
 
 " Then she should consider whether she has the 
 strength to renounce marriage and motherhood. 
 If she can live for her art, she may be spotless. 
 But, my dear, we know what temperaments and 
 faculties are joined. Tell me, have you ever 
 known a great singer that was not emotional, 
 greatly so ? The voice that breathes the song of
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 147 
 
 passion belongs to the heart that craves love. 
 Philosophical people don't sing." Here Miss 
 Thorpe turned over a volume of Buckle merrily, 
 and read aloud some half-dozen abstruse sen- 
 tences. 
 
 " Fancy a woman reading that, and then shriek- 
 ing, ' Involami, t'amo, t'amo ' / " 
 
 But Phoebe said she was not fixed upon making 
 singing a profession, nor did she feel sure she 
 should ever marry. This with a rather innocently 
 grave tone. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! you will marry," said Miss Thorpe, 
 looking with almost a lover's delight over the 
 girl's sweet reserved face and eloquent eyes, and 
 noting the whole atmosphere of attraction that 
 surrounded her. " You will marry. It requires 
 no witch or fortune-teller to predict that. If in 
 no other way, some one will carry you off a Sa- 
 bine captive. But we won't go on with this. 
 You are fatigued, I see, and have much to think 
 upon. I will read Spencer a while, and you can 
 look in the evening paper for the roster of the 
 th regiment." 
 
 Miss Thorpe wheeled a chair to the centre- 
 table and was soon buried in philosophy. Phoebe 
 skimmed the newspaper, then walked about, 
 noticing the stately rows of books in rich bind- 
 ings, the busts on corner brackets, and the superb 
 head of Pallas over the central bookcase, on 
 which no boding raven nor Promethean vulture 
 had ever perched. She was soon tired, and went
 
 148 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 to her room. The portrait, unchanging in its 
 loveliness, looked down on the beautiful girl, and 
 seemed to send a good-night across the darkening 
 room. 
 
 The moment she closed her eyes, there were 
 endless files of soldiers passing ; officers spurred 
 oil with orders, drums beat, colors waved, and 
 cannons roared. Then the scene was changed. 
 There was a vast amphitheatre of hills enclosing 
 a battle-ground. White specks of tents dotted 
 the green slopes near the borders of the woods. 
 White pufflets of smoke rose from the distant 
 earth-works where the cannon were planted. 
 Cavalry rode into the dense clouds of dust in 
 the central plain. Long thin lines of infantry 
 were posted on every vantage-ground, keeping up 
 incessant fire. Over all rose an awful din, as if 
 every sound of horror, rage, and pain, had blend- 
 ed. Phoebe looked and shivered, and could not 
 look away. Mrs. Prescott was beside her, and 
 evermore asked, " Was it for you that I have lost 
 my son ? " Then this vision faded. Untold 
 leagues of country swept by ; and she saw a man, 
 in the rags of a uniform, sunburnt, torn by briers, 
 now skulking among bushes, skirting water- 
 courses, and now on a log drifting towards the 
 sea. His face was averted from her, and he 
 floated away. Then she walked through a hospi- 
 tal. Pale faces on every side, dying and dead, 
 and still the line of white beds stretched inter- 
 minably. Once or twice she saw Major Roderick,
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 149 
 
 but at a distance, his arm in a sling. Before she 
 got near where he had stood, there was a vacancy ; 
 and then, while her flesh crept with terror, she 
 looked around only to see Mrs. Prescott follow- 
 ing her, and again exclaiming, "Was it for you 
 that I have lost my son?" Then came a trans- 
 port of wounded men. A bright torch flashed at 
 the landing to show the bearers of the stretchers 
 where to step. At this new agony Phoebe could 
 bear it no longer, and screamed. 
 
 Gentle Miss Thorpe stood at her bedside with a 
 light ; though it was some time before the fright- 
 ened girl could collect her faculties, and be sure 
 that she had been dreaming. " I heard you moan- 
 ing, Phoebe," she said, "and guessed the cause. 
 You have had a terrible strain to-day. I will give 
 you these little pellets. You will soon be tran- 
 quil. Bridget shall draw a couch into your room, 
 and sleep near you; and you can have a taper 
 burning if you choose." Phoebe was too much 
 exhausted by her ideal terrors to say more than a 
 few words. Her face was pale, and her brow cov- 
 ered with perspiration. The hour of troubled 
 sleep was an age of suffering. Bridget bathed 
 her face, and rubbed her hands, and she was soon 
 in a gentle, dreamless slumber. 
 
 Miss Thorpe concluded that she did not know 
 all that was passing in Phoebe's mind, and she 
 pondered how she might change the painful cur- 
 rent of feeling.
 
 150 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Miss THORPE waited anxiously to observe 
 Phoebe at breakfast ; for it was evident that some 
 deep grief or burden rested on her mind. Phoebe 
 came down, looking rather pale, but cheerful, and 
 expressed regret that her haunting dreams had 
 caused so much disturbance ; but she added, that, 
 as women could not fight, they must have their 
 share of distress in some way. Miss Thorpe began 
 to see that the girl had something of the heroic 
 in her nature, that her imagination was active, 
 and that, more than all, there was something in 
 the recesses of thought as yet undeveloped. 
 
 But Miss Thorpe did not once allude to the 
 handsome young officer, nor to the interview of the 
 preceding day. She consented to go with Phoebe 
 to see Mrs. Prescott, but suggested that she 
 should afterwards take her music, and pay a visit 
 to her old teacher. This was the concession she 
 made in the hope that her coveted amusement 
 would be the means of bringing the high-spirited 
 girl nearer to the ordinary level of life. 
 
 They were received cheerfully, but with an 
 unusual earnestness, by Mr. Prescott, who had lin- 
 gered that morning to console his wife. He was
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 151 
 
 in the back-parlor near to the conservatory, smok- 
 ing fiercely, and chewing the end of his cigar, as 
 was his habit when disturbed. The morning 
 paper lay beside him unread. Seeing Miss 
 Thorpe, and knowing her aversion to tobacco, he 
 dropped his cigar, and made himself wretched 
 for her sake. There was so much to be said about 
 the late events that he did not know where to 
 begin. He concluded to wait ; and, learning that 
 a call on Signer Belvedere was proposed, he in- 
 vited both Miss Thorpe and Phoebe to return to 
 dinner, and thought, that, in the evening, he could 
 have his intended explanation with the runaway. 
 
 Presently Mrs. Prescott entered from her ora- 
 tory, all in robes of white, and with her beautiful 
 hair negligently disposed under a lace cap. But 
 her grief was real, if her dress and manner were 
 studied. She came forward slowly, with the port 
 of Lady Macbeth in the sleep-walking scene, and 
 extended coldly a white hand to Phcebe and to 
 Miss Thorpe in silence. Her tears had been dried, 
 and she wore the look of one who trusted to no 
 earthly consolation. 
 
 " I have but one thing to live for now," she said, 
 *' and that is to pray for our dear sons in the field." 
 
 " Oh, pshaw ! " said Mr. Prescott. " Better live 
 to work for them, and to help their widows and 
 sweethearts and children." 
 
 Mrs. Prescott looked unutterable things. 
 
 Miss Thorpe said she trusted Mrs. Prescott would 
 now become interested in the Sanitary Commis- 
 sion.
 
 152 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 " I have subscribed for tracts and Bibles to be 
 sent to the army," said Mrs. Prescott solemnly. 
 
 u Tracts and Bibles are well enough," said her 
 husband ; " but the poor fellows in hospitals also 
 need shirts and biscuit and tea and brandy." 
 
 u Yes," added Miss Thorpe ; " and the best 
 friends of the soldiers say they have better suc- 
 cess in touching their hearts after carrying a sup- 
 ply of good food and clothing." 
 
 " ' Seek ye first the kingdom of heaven and its 
 righteousness,' " said Mrs. Prescott. 
 
 " Pooh, pooh ! " said Mr. Prescott, " the people 
 that Christ said that to hadn't been shot to pieces. 
 They didn't need bandages and gruel and nurs- 
 ing. I can't believe he wouldn't do just what /we 
 do in the hospitals, and give a meal to the hungry 
 soldiers, and a dressing for their wounds, before 
 he plied them with tracts. The kingdom of 
 heaven, with all due respect, wants a physical 
 basis." 
 
 " But we won't make a discussion now," said 
 Miss Thorpe. " When you are sufficiently recov- 
 ered, Mrs. Prescott, we will go to the rooms of 
 the society, and you will see what we are doing, 
 and learn the results of our work." 
 
 " I have asked Miss Thorpe and Phoebe to dine 
 with us," said Mr. Prescott, " and the protocol is 
 signed. It waits for your approval, my dear." 
 
 Mrs. Prescott expressed her pleasure, and, hav- 
 ing bowed courteously to Miss Thorpe, turned a 
 half-searching, "half-tender glance upon Phoebe.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 153 
 
 The poor girl, who still shivered at the recollec- 
 tion of last night's dreams, looked as if she 
 expected to hear once more the agonizing ques- 
 tion, " Was it by you that I lost my son ? " 
 
 Miss Thorpe saw that there was no prospect of 
 much genial conversation, and soon rose to go, 
 saying cheerily that her pensioners and constitu- 
 ents were doubtless wondering at her neglect. 
 
 As soon as she left the room, the reason of Mr. 
 Prescott's disturbed state of mind became mani- 
 fest. He took out a letter he had just received 
 from his former clerk Amory, and glanced over it. 
 The first pages referred to the repairs upon the 
 house in Eaglemont, suggested in a conversation 
 mentioned in a former chapter. That portion he 
 did not read to his wife. 
 
 " I have a letter here from Amory," he said, 
 " a fine fellow, by the way, written at our old 
 home in the country. He is going West, but 
 took Eaglemont on his way, or out of his way. 
 My niece, I fancy, was the magnet. The part 
 that will interest you I will read." And he read, 
 with occasional comments and shrugs and expres- 
 sive but inarticulate sounds : '"I have had a 
 delightful time here, especially in going to various 
 points on the hills to see the scenery' yes, espe- 
 cially in the scenery. ' We see mountains in three 
 States, those on the north standing like walls of 
 faint blue, and those on the south resting on the 
 horizon's verge like masses of purple and gray. 
 Your charming niece has been my guide and com-
 
 154 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 panion,' of course ! ' and has shared and dou- 
 bled my pleasure. I have learned that her brother 
 Robert has just made a flying visit here, and, from 
 various scattered hints, I am sure he was a heart- 
 broken man. It seems that he had a grand pas- 
 sion.' I did not know that clergymen were 
 affected that way : I thought such desperate 
 attacks were confined wholly to the laity. 'But 
 the lady was unkind, and he is in despair. He 
 bade his father and mother and sister farewell, 
 told them they would hear of him in India, or 
 China, or in some other heathen country.' This 
 is quite extraordinary, unclerical, to be so put 
 back for a woman. 'The family are in doleful 
 dumps. They don't know who the lady is, and 
 though I may guess, like a Yankee, still I shall 
 hold my tongue. Your brother Solomon chews 
 fearfully over this matter ; and his wife (whom all 
 the neighbors call aunt Zeruiah) knits and sews 
 with the utmost resolution, both of them looking 
 as if they had buried their first-born. 
 
 " ' They will expect you' Hm ! no matter 
 about that." 
 
 As he read, Phoebe's face underwent every pos- 
 sible change of expression. It was a terrible blow, 
 and none the less painful that it was not unex- 
 pected. 
 
 " Well, Phoebe," said Mr. Prescott, " it seems as 
 if you must soon have all the family at your feet. 
 Two young Prescotts, as I conjecture, have been 
 slain ; and now, unless you come back to live with 
 us, my wife and I will be your next victims."
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 155 
 
 " Pray don't jest," she replied : " I am broken 
 down. I seem to carry nothing but sorrow with 
 me, and am fated to make every one wretched who 
 cares for me. But, if you and Mrs. Prescott want 
 me to return, I will come, though I have prom- 
 ised Miss Thorpe that I will stay part of the time 
 with her." 
 
 " Then come, Phoebe," said Mrs. Prescott. " We 
 cannot alter what is past. It is a desolate heart 
 that you will find. But I will try to be a mother 
 to you still." 
 
 " Come," said Mr. Prescott. " You will cheer 
 us up. I want you to sing to us in the evenings. 
 I sha'n't be happy unless I see you about the 
 house. Never mind the the. And my wife 
 won't be half so desolate as she thinks." 
 
 It was singular that both had instinctively 
 avoided asking Phcebe any question about the 
 cause of her going away. There are many recog- 
 nized facts about which very little is said, and 
 which people tacitly agree not to look at. 
 
 Insensibly the gloom began to wear off, and 
 Mrs. Prescott was more serene. Still, Phoebe 
 could not be wholly at ease. The loss of Rod- 
 erick was too recent, the wound in the mother's 
 heart was too new, and Phoebe was of a nature so 
 sympathetic, that she felt the void and the anguish 
 as if they had been her own. Time only would 
 restore perfect harmony. 
 
 But the three sat by the window, through 
 which came a fresh breeze laden with odors from
 
 156 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 the flowers, and enjoyed an hour of unruffled 
 pleasure. Mr. Prescott had never known the 
 delight of having children of his own, and he felt 
 all his impulses moving towards this beautiful and 
 noble girl. He determined now to be a father to 
 her, and, with her consent, to adopt her by form 
 of law. He did not mention it, however ; for he 
 thought it better to learn the state of her feelings 
 in a private interview. 
 
 The postman rang, and a servant brought in a 
 letter for Mrs. Prescott. It was a bulky letter 
 with a foreign stamp and an old-fashioned, heavy 
 seal of wax. Mrs. Prescott became agitated as 
 if she feared to cut the envelope. With instinc- 
 tive delicacy Pho3be rose, and said, 
 
 " I intend this morning to call on Signor Bel- 
 vedere, and perhaps sing a little. Will you 
 excuse me if I go now? I may call on Miss 
 Thorpe at lunch-time, and we will both come 
 here in season for dinner." 
 
 Mr. Prescott assented cheerfully, while his wife 
 still sat silent, holding the letter. Phoebe extended 
 her hands to both, kissed Mrs. Prescott on her 
 pale cheek, and took leave. 
 
 A walk of some ten minutes brought her to the 
 apartments where we first saw her. Signor Bel- 
 vedere was giving a lesson ; and she .remained in 
 the adjacent room, while the ambitious pupil, like 
 a tireless bird, soared and swooped, and beat 
 against the wind, through the billowy variations 
 of an operatic air. It was a brilliant specimen of
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 157 
 
 execution, but Phcebe was not stirred. Her taste 
 did not approve of ornament for ornament's sake. 
 She thought of the amazing vocal difficulties, and 
 that was fatal. The great singer not only over- 
 comes difficulties, she does not let you perceive 
 that there are any. Phoebe looked at the books, 
 the casts, bronzes, and pictures, and chirruped 
 at the mocking-bird, the " intelligent feath- 
 ered critic " that had given her the compliment 
 of a rival song. In due time the lesson was 
 ended ; and the pupil, a full-blown rose of a 
 woman, plump, radiant, and self-assured, passed 
 out. Signor Belvedere entered with a grave but 
 indescribably winning smile. He seemed to con- 
 vey the idea that he had just been a bit of a hypo- 
 crite in commending the labored effort of his last 
 jDupil, though it would be difficult to say how he 
 did it. His figure was erect, clothed all in black, 
 and devoid of ornament ; but his dome-like head 
 was crowned with a small, closely-fitting purple 
 velvet cap. He touched it uneasily as he came, 
 as if it were an anomaly, but dropped his hand as 
 if to say, " You have seen it, and I will wear it." 
 His fine gray eyes sparkled as he spoke. 
 
 " My dear-a young lady, and so I see you again I 
 You are welcome as the sun after rain. Come, 
 tell me all about it. And-a so the young man has 
 gone; and you don't-a leave Mistress Prescott? 
 I was afraid you had run away, and had got your- 
 self lost. What a loss it would be ! But you 
 don't-a speak ! "
 
 158 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 "How can I," said Phoebe, laughing, "when 
 you are saying it all ? " 
 
 " Ah ! I am a garrulous old a-fool. But I am 
 only bubbling over with joy. And so you will 
 n ^t be triste any more ? And you will singg, 
 of course you will sing ? " 
 
 " Certainly ! But let me recover my breath. I 
 did intend to leave the Prescotts forever. I found 
 a home with Miss Thorpe, and should have been 
 content to stay with her, only I should have to 
 escape sometimes. She doesn't like music, or 
 rather thinks it belongs to an inferior order of 
 minds. She is all spirit, a pure intelligence, and 
 lives in the clear light of reason. Any emotion 
 she thinks only clouds the soul." 
 
 " Ah, Miss Thorpe ! Yes, I remember, a di- 
 minish-ed copy of Pallas, just from the brain of 
 Jove. A steady and bright woman, I remember. 
 I was once at the Plato Club. She was there, 
 listening sharply. She might have been a type 
 of mind, without mortal en-avironment, as she 
 herself would say. And so 'emotion clouds the 
 soul,' does it? Then-a the mother's soul is 
 clouded by her love for her son? Christ's soul 
 was-a clouded when he drove the money-changers 
 in wrath from the temple? David's soul was-a 
 clouded, both in his abject penitence and in his - 
 fervid psalms of praise ? The souls of Augustine, 
 Thomas a Kempis, Francis d'Assisi, John Bun- 
 yan they were clouded also ? And Handel was 
 clouded when he wrote the Messiah, and so was
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 159 
 
 the majestic Palestrini, whose litanies I hope to 
 hear in-a heaven? And Beethoven too, his soul 
 was-a clouded, when, retreating from external 
 sense, he fashioned in the solitary chambers of his 
 great soul those symphonies which seem to have 
 existed from eternity, and will go sounding on in 
 scecula sceculorum ? Ah, no ! Miss Phaybe it is only 
 intellectual pride that-a disdains emotion, and 
 talks of the rule of reason. The race is in sexes. 
 'Male and female created he them.' And the 
 nature of man, I will-a not call it either mind or 
 soul, the nature of man is complex. We per- 
 ceive, we think, and-a we feel. That is all we 
 know about it. The wisest of the philosophers, 
 if he takes you through a do-zen volumes upon 
 what he calls mental philosophy, which is all 
 scoria^ rubbish, will get no farther than when 
 he started, namely, that we perceive, we think, 
 and we feel. True, a person all feeling is pulpy, 
 with no more backbone than a jelly-fish. That 
 is a passionate child, a soft and good-for-noth- 
 ing woman, a silly idiot. But a person with no 
 feeling Grand Dio, what a creature ! Thought 
 and feeling ; and what-a God hath join-ed together, 
 let-a not Miss Thorpe put asunder ! " 
 
 Signor Belvedere looked like an ancient prophet 
 in a vision : he had never made so long a speech 
 before in his life. Pho?be listened in silent tri- 
 umph. She had not felt convinced by Miss 
 Thorpe's reasoning, and she could not share her 
 contempt for emotional natures ; but she had not
 
 160 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 the power to confute her : and it was with a glow- 
 ing, irrepressible joy that she saw the emotion con- 
 nected with the reason, the marriage of feeling 
 and thought. She was sure Signer Belvedere was 
 a great man, and need only write one small, elo- 
 quent treatise to demolish all the philosophers of 
 Miss Thorpe's school. 
 
 *' As I love music, I like to feel that it is not 
 wrong, and that it is not unworthy. I have fre- 
 quently wanted to ask Miss Thorpe why she 
 thought the angels were represented as singing 
 with harps." 
 
 " She would have-a told you that these thinggs 
 are symbols, images adapted to the comprehen- 
 sion of children and-a the common people." 
 
 " But I like to believe in the singing and in the 
 real harps of gold. I have never felt so near 
 heaven as in listening to a great mass such as 
 Cherubini's." 
 
 " Ah, well ! my dear Miss Phaybe, we shall-a 
 know a great deal better about heaven when-a we 
 get there. Let us come to mundane affairs." 
 
 They talked then of what had happened. 
 Phoebe extolled Miss Thorpe, and sympathized 
 with Mrs. Prescott, and declared that she could 
 not do without either of them. She did not refer 
 to her interview with the major on the parade- 
 ground. She remembered what she had said of 
 him to Signor Belvedere, and did not care to 
 explain the causes that had led her to forgive the 
 offence, and to a different view of his character.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 161 
 
 She related artlessly the few reminiscences which 
 Mrs. Maloney gave of her mother, and told of her 
 faint recollection of a mother's lullaby. All the 
 Italian in the master was aroused. He went to 
 the piano, and touched the keys, 
 
 " Beginning doubtfully and far away, 
 And let bis fingers wander as they list, 
 To build a bridge from dreamland for his lay." 
 
 Then the music began to rock, and the master's 
 head swayed with the rhythm ; and presently, with 
 the rather husky tones of a voice that had once 
 been fine, he looked at Phoebe, and began to sing, 
 still as if rocking, and moving his head caressingly 
 as if to a tired child : 
 
 Nel seno materno 
 Riposa, cor mio, 
 Ti salvi di Dio 
 La somma piet& ! 
 
 La vergin ti guardi, 
 Membrandosi il figlio, 
 E piova dal ciglio 
 Beniguo fulgor. 
 
 Ti cuoprin <xm 1'ali 
 Gli spirti celesti, 
 Di cui tu rivesti 
 L' imago quaggiu ! 
 
 Oh dor mi, leggiadro, 
 Bambino diletto ! 
 Vicina al tuo letto 
 Vegliando start.
 
 162 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 Before many lines were gone over, Phoebe's 
 eyes began to dilate, and her fine thin nostrils 
 showed a delicate tension. Her breath came 
 faster, and soon she found her eyelids weighted 
 with tears. She seemed to be recalling from the 
 far-off chambers of memory those sounds which 
 were associated with helpless infancy and brood- 
 ing maternal love. Though she could not before 
 have repeated a line, nor hummed a note, of the 
 simple melody, yet soon it was as familiar as 
 her nightly prayer. She dropped her head, and 
 sobbed. 
 
 " You have-a heard it, Miss Phaybe ? " 
 
 " Oh, many times ! It is the one thing that 
 comes back to me, and I see my mother's beauti- 
 ful sad face bending over me." 
 
 " It is a lullaby by Isabella Rossi. Said I not 
 you were the daughter of an Italian mother? 
 But I am sorry to have made you cry." 
 
 " No : they are sweet tears. Don't mind them." 
 
 " I will copy the little songg, and write out the 
 music for you, as well as I can recollect." 
 
 Her tears soon dried, like the rain of an April 
 day ; and after a time she sang all her old songs, 
 throwing a heart-felt pathos into the tones of her 
 rich voice." 
 
 "This it is," said the master, "that rewards 
 the toil and anxiety of years. I am a garden-er, 
 and you are my rose, my lily, my mignonette." 
 
 If Phoebe had not felt a thrill of rapture, she 
 would not have been a woman and an artist.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 163 
 
 After making an appointment for the next lesson, 
 she was about to go, when Signor Belvedere 
 observed, " We have open-ed so successfully one 
 long-forgotten spring, that I have curiosity, I con- 
 fess, to see that old prayer-book. Its cover, even 
 now, is perfum-ed by a mother's love. It was 
 a good thought of Miss Thorpe to advertise it. 
 We shall soon have the full name of the flower 
 I am so proud to have cultivated. Good-by, and 
 God-a bless you ! "
 
 164 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE dinner-hour came, and Phoebe and Miss 
 Thorpe were seated at the table with Mr. and Mrs. 
 Prescott. Though it was not dark, the blinds 
 were closed, and the chandelier lighted. The table 
 service was exquisite ; and flowers, as usual, were 
 in profusion. Mrs. Prescott had regained her com- 
 posure, and her husband was .in the happiest 
 humor. He bowed to the elder and to the young- 
 er guest, and felicitated himself upon his position 
 between music and philosophy, youth and matu- 
 rity, wisdom and grace. He rallied Miss Thorpe 
 upon Buckle's doctrine of averages, and asked her 
 to compile a dictionary for beginners in Spencer. 
 He would have turned his raillery upon Phoebe, 
 only it occurred to him that her influence upon 
 the fate of his nephew, or that of his stepson, 
 would be hardly a delicate subject for jest. 
 
 Mrs. Prescott did not once mention the letter 
 that had caused her so much agitation that morn- 
 ing ; but it was evident she was thinking of it, for 
 her conversation was mostly upon her old home 
 and the members of her family. Phoabe was some- 
 what surprised at her reticence ; for she knew that 
 Mrs. Prescott had not heard from her English 
 relatives for a long time.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 165 
 
 " I have often thought," said Mrs. Prescott, 
 "how much I should like to revisit England. 
 You know I have not been there since my first 
 marriage, and that was a long while ago. During 
 Mr. Courtney's lifetime we often spoke of it, but 
 the convenient time never came. Now, Mr. Pres- 
 cott is even more devoted to business ; but I think 
 next year, ' when this cruel war is over,' as the 
 ballad has it, we will make a little party and go." 
 She was looking at Phoebe, and thinking at the 
 same time of her absent son. 
 
 Mr. Prescott had good reasons for thinking the 
 trip far from feasible ; but he said nothing. Phoebe 
 understood the look and the allusion, but gave no 
 sign. Miss Thorpe remarked that she should 
 enjoy going abroad, and especially to England ; 
 but she added, " The results of travel are what I 
 chiefly enjoy ; and those can be had at home. All 
 of the art and architecture of the world are in 
 books. You may speak of the associations of 
 Westminster Abbey ; but I follow an imaginary 
 pilgrim among the tombs, and can recall all that 
 is great in the lives of the dead that lie there. 
 Emerson has distilled England as in an alembic. 
 Story, the poet and sculptor, takes you through 
 Rome : you see every thing on his vivid page, 
 and especially if you have the Roman photo- 
 graphs ; and you need not go there. Why, my 
 
 friend, Mr. Q , who was never in England, 
 
 knows every noble family and the history of every 
 house ; knows who married whom : in short, he
 
 166 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 is a living Burke's Peerage and an Itinerary of 
 the kingdom combined. He corrected a friend of 
 mine for an error in an account of his visit to 
 London, and showed him, that, upon leaving such 
 a street, he must have gone into such a one (giv- 
 ing the name), and that he could not have gone 
 by the street the narrator had mentioned. My 
 friend was astonished. 'Why, how long since 
 you went abroad ? ' 'I was never in London,' he 
 replied." 
 
 " That is very well," said Mr. Prescott : " and 
 so can a blind man study the plan of a city so as 
 to get about ; but I had rather have my eyes, for 
 all that. A photograph of a Roman arch may be 
 fine and impressive ; but I would much rather 
 look out through one into the Campagna or the 
 blue of an Italian sky. And I would give more 
 to see one Titian or a Rembrandt to my heart's 
 content than to look at all the engravings in 
 the universe. Our dinner here is only so much 
 carbon and nitrogen and other elements; yet I 
 don't want any one to come here and weigh me 
 out the chemical equivalents of a slice of beef: I 
 prefer the red and juicy article itself. Mr. Emer- 
 son may have distilled England, and Mr. Story 
 may have bottled up Rome ; but I have my pref- 
 erences." 
 
 "I have seen some uneducated people," said 
 Mrs. Prescott, " who have made themselves quite 
 agreeable by travel. It seems to suppl" the defi- 
 ciences of early training."
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 167 
 
 " Yes," said Miss Thorpe ; " but it oftener sup- 
 plies the ignorant with a few conventional phrases, 
 and covers their ill-breeding with a thin varnish." 
 
 " Then let us be thankful for the varnish," said 
 Mr. Prescott. 
 
 "Has Mr. Gibbs been abroad?" asked Phoebe 
 innocently. 
 
 " No, my dear ; and he needs to acquire both the 
 polite phrases and the polish. By the way," and 
 what the chain of association was to what he was 
 about to say, no person could have guessed, "I 
 think I'll go up to Eaglemont shortly. Brother 
 Solomon feels very blue about his son. I would 
 like to see him, and to see the old town ; and I 
 have some notion of spending a month or two 
 there this summer." He looked up cautiously to 
 see the effect upon his wife. She remained placid, 
 regarding him with her large, calm eyes. 
 
 "How would you like to go, my dear? And 
 you, Phoebe, just for a day or two?" 
 
 Mrs. Prescott replied that she would like to go, 
 but would confer with him as to some matters, 
 such as the care of the house in their absence, and 
 providing for certain comforts not always to be 
 had in the country. 
 
 Phoebe had but one regret, and that was to 
 break her appointment with Signer Belvedere. 
 Miss Thorpe said tfyat a trip to the country would 
 be enlivening both to Mrs. Prescott and Phoebe, 
 though the town was still beautiful, and the heat 
 not excessive.
 
 168 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 After dinner Mr. Prescott went out to smoke a 
 few whiffs of a cheroot, and then returned, and 
 asked Phoebe to sing. Mrs. Prescott and Miss 
 Thorpe meanwhile went into the library together, 
 where they conversed for a long time. 
 
 Phoebe had recovered her elasticity of temper, 
 and was in superb physical condition. A singer 
 must have the fervid temperament in the strong 
 body to produce the best effect. Few out of the 
 profession know what a union of intellect, feeling, 
 and will, as well as of throat, lungs, and muscle, is 
 required. 
 
 Mr. Prescott was insatiable, and Phoebe was 
 generous. She sang German songs and French 
 chansons, English ballads and Italian cavatinas, 
 not forgetting some of the touching African melo- 
 dies, of which " Old Folks at Home " is a specimen. 
 Mr. Prescott sat by her, sipping an occasional 
 glass of Madeira, and chewing the end of his 
 cheroot. His enjoyment was almost an ecstasy. 
 
 But now and then the thought of Gibbs in- 
 truded ; and the bristly, repulsive face seemed to 
 chuckle in triumph at the downfall which was not 
 now far off ; for Mr. Prescott had ceased to strug- 
 gle, and was prepared to give up the business 
 when the appointed time came. His only doubt 
 was, whether, from the wreck of his fortune, he 
 could save enough to support his wife and Phoebe 
 in the old house at Eaglemont. He meant to make 
 the visit there without delay, and when they were 
 comfortably settled, and while the romance of
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 169 
 
 country life was fresh, to break to them the evil 
 news, and prepare them for giving up the luxury 
 and society of the town. These were the thoughts 
 that were running through his mind as he listened 
 to Phoebe's singing. He was also making a mental 
 inventory of the articles he would have carried up 
 on the train ; and the piano stood first in the list. 
 He had fixed upon the day after to-morrow for the 
 trip to Eaglemont. 
 
 The singing was done ; and Mr. Prescott and 
 Phcebe were in pleasant conversation for some 
 time. As Mrs. Prescott and Miss Thorpe still 
 lingered in the library, Mr. Prescott sauntered to 
 the door, and saw both ladies writing. Discreetly 
 he retired, but not without wonder. Something 
 was going on : the secrets were not wholly on 
 his side of the house. But nothing was said ; and 
 soon Miss Thorpe appeared, saying that it was 
 time for her to go home. The carriage was or- 
 dered ; and she was driven home, accompanied by 
 Phoebe. 
 
 Mrs. Prescott proved that a woman can keep a 
 secret ; for she did not allude to the writing done 
 by herself and Miss Thorpe, and next morning 
 gave her husband, without comment, a stout letter 
 to be mailed. It was addressed to her elder 
 brother, Ralph Manning, Esq., Manning Park, 
 Knutsbridge, Lancashire, England. 
 
 After breakfast Mr. Prescott, in glancing over 
 the newspaper, chanced to see an odd advertise- 
 ment offering a large reward for a prayer-book in
 
 170 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 Latin or Italian. The description was written, 
 he thought, by a practised hand ; the phraseology 
 was apt and terse : but the motive he could not 
 divine. He showed it to his wife. 
 
 " Yes," she said, " I knew of it. Miss Thorpe 
 last evening told me what she had done." 
 
 "Well, upon my soul, you are the secretest 
 woman ! " 
 
 " Do you always tell me every thing, my dear ? " 
 
 " Why, of course I do," he plumply answered. 
 
 " You know, Miss Thorpe had a brilliant and 
 unfortunate sister. I believe that she secretly 
 cherishes the hope that Phoebe may turn out to 
 be her niece. It is rather hoping against hope, 
 for she had positive information that the sister 
 died without children. The sister, I believe, was a 
 half-sister, much taller and fuller in figure, and, 
 being an artist, was of a different temperament. 
 Now, there is a portrait of that sister in the house ; 
 and it certainly has some resemblance to Phoebe, 
 especially in the far-away look of the eyes, and in 
 the beautiful lips. It was always called an Italian 
 face ; and, as Phoebe probably had an Italian 
 mother, the resemblance may not be so wonderful. 
 But she has learned that Phoebe's mother had a 
 Catholic prayer-book such as is described in the 
 advertisement, and that Phoebe's full name was 
 written upon a blank leaf, or was in the lining of 
 the cover." 
 
 " Well, it is curious ; but, for my part, I don't 
 greatly care to trace Phoebe's history. I should
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 171 
 
 be afraid that some one with a legal right might 
 *come and take her away from us ; and, if you are 
 willing, I propose to adopt her without delay." 
 
 "Well, yes, if Miss Thorpe does not find what 
 she hopes. Phoebe is a good child. That she is 
 lovely every one can see. It is possible, barely 
 possible, that another clew may be found to her 
 parentage." 
 
 Mr. Prescott gave a quick glance of interroga- 
 tion ; but his wife turned away to some indifferent 
 topic. He dropped the matter, knowing by expe- 
 rience that she would soon come to him to share 
 any trustworthy information.
 
 172 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 MR. AND MRS. PRESCOTT and Phoebe were on 
 their way to Eaglemont. Signor Belvedere had 
 called the evening previous, and had given Phcebe 
 a comic passport entitling her to protection in 
 foreign parts ; also some new music, including a 
 manuscript copy of the cradle-song, with illumina- 
 tions by his own hands. Miss Thorpe, being left 
 alone, was devoting herself to the work of the 
 Sanitary Commission. 
 
 As the train rolled on, Phcebe had an opportu- 
 nity for reflection ; and she began to think in 
 what a trying position she was to be placed, be- 
 tween two mothers, each of whom believed her to 
 have been the cause of her son's misery and exile. 
 No one but herself knew how the matter stood 
 with either suitor. Roderick had made no one 
 a confidant ; but she saw that his mother had 
 observed closely, and had drawn her conclusions. 
 Robert the preacher was no sentimental lover, and 
 wasted no time in unmanly tears ; but Amory's 
 letter had shown that his deep disappointment 
 was known at home ; and, as he had left the 
 country suddenly, there was a natural conclusion 
 to be drawn in his case also.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 173 
 
 Mrs. Hugh Prescott had been pacified in a 
 measure, partly, perhaps, because she believed 
 that Phoebe really loved her son, and that all 
 would be well when he came back; but aunt Zer- 
 uiah, the wife of Solomon Prescott, was a person 
 whom Phoebe dreaded to meet. The dilemma had 
 not occurred to her until now, when she could not 
 turn back. She had heard of the good lady's 
 inflexible nature, her upright and downright 
 speech, and she feared to come under her severe 
 observation. Uncle Solomon, she knew, was 
 quaint, and inclined to jollity, such jollity as 
 was possible in a puritan neighborhood; and 
 Mary, whom she had seen a few times, was as 
 fresh and charming as a clover-blossom. She 
 thought she would temporize, make friends with 
 the daughter, captivate the father if she could, 
 and then face the solemn matron as best she 
 might. 
 
 With such thoughts the time passed until the 
 train reached the station. The town was located 
 in a valley hemmed in by hills ; and a swift river 
 went winding through meadows, and turning 
 corners by slopes of green pasture. The old 
 Prescott place was two miles distant ; and the 
 road from the village led up a long hill, from 
 which there was a magnificent prospect. Half- 
 way up was the house which Mr. Prescott had 
 ordered to be repaired ; but he drove by without 
 mentioning it, and drew up at his brother Solo- 
 inon's door.
 
 174 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 There was the usual surprise when the carriage 
 neared the house, the quick putting-off of aprons 
 and changing of calico dresses by aunt Zeruiah 
 and Mary, the loud cackling of geese by the 
 brook, the gathering of animals at the fence in 
 the home lot to watch the coming of strangers, 
 and finally the hearty welcome of uncle Solomon, 
 who, in a long blue frock, came from the barn to 
 the grassplat in front of the house, and held the 
 horse while his visitors alighted. 
 
 Who shall describe the hospitality of a well-to- 
 do farmer when his only brother comes from the 
 great city to renew the old associations? The 
 marvels of cookery, the almost oppressive atten- 
 tions, the simplicity of rural manners, the fresh- 
 ness of feeling, combine to make the return a glad 
 festival. 
 
 The brothers were strikingly alike ; only the one 
 had the sunburned face and heavy gait of a 
 farmer, and the other the paler .complexion and 
 alert movement of a man accustomed to city life. 
 They soon walked off to look at the cattle, and 
 inspect the garden and the adjacent fields in culti- 
 vation. The two matrons sat in rocking-chairs in 
 the solemn retreat of the best room, and discussed 
 their sons. Nothing was omitted in the experi- 
 ence of either. Mumps and measles were duly 
 compared and chronicled, likewise the cutting of 
 first teeth, and the dates of creeping and walking ; 
 and their accidents, tempers, and schooling, and 
 all that concerns boyhood, were gone over with
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 175 
 
 that fond attention to details which only mothers 
 can bestow. They came back to two hard facts. 
 One son had gone to the war : the other had gone 
 to the heathen. And, without actually asserting 
 it, each let the other know (in strict confidence), 
 that the disdain of a certain young lady with 
 beautiful black eyes had much to do with the 
 sudden departure of her son. 
 
 The two girls meanwhile planned a little excur- 
 sion for the afternoon ; and uncle Solomon, as a 
 special favor, harnessed his favorite colt to the 
 elliptic-spring wagon, giving abundant caution to 
 Mary to keep a sharp lookout, because the colt 
 was spry. The " colt " was a tolerably lively but 
 perfectly manageable animal of some six or seven 
 years, and knew the hand of Mary as well as that 
 of her father. 
 
 They drove down the hill at a rattling pace, 
 laughing whenever the wagon tossed them over the 
 " thank-ye-ma'ams," as the banks for turning water 
 off the road were called ; then whirled around 
 the long bends of the river, where the water lay in 
 tranquil pools, covered with lily-pads ; then walked 
 up a long acclivity under sweet-smelling birches 
 and chestnuts ; then dashed down across a sandy 
 plain, beneath clusters of aromatic pines that were 
 always whispering to each other across the nar- 
 row roadway ; then skirted a lovely lake (which 
 the country-people belittled by the name of a 
 pond), and watched the inverted reflections of pur- 
 ple hills, white clouds, and blue sky in its glassy
 
 176 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 depths; then ascended more hills, until they 
 reached a high ground that commanded the sweep 
 of the whole horizon. Here they halted. Phoebe 
 clapped her hands with delight. Northward stood 
 the Old Sachem, a cloudy mass, with hues that 
 seemed to waver from purple gray to chrysolite. 
 Eastward were the lower blue ranges that sloped 
 toward the sea-level. Southward were the bil- 
 lowy tops of hills, in an atmosphere of gold 
 dust under the westering sun. Westward, and 
 surprisingly near, were the picturesque mountains 
 that hem in the Connecticut, dark and gloomy 
 shadows, with sharp-rimmed and irregularly ser- 
 rated ridges. And over and beyond them were the 
 faint lines of blue, scarcely discernible, which 
 mark the mountain district that hangs over the 
 valley of the Hudson. Truly it was wonderful, 
 both in the grandeur of the whole and in the 
 beauty of every detail. The eye was never weary 
 of tracing out in the distance tender green mead- 
 ows, clumps of maples, tall and feathery elms, 
 pasture-slopes, white and red farmhouses, weather- 
 stained barns, winding streams, ponds fringed 
 with trees, and yellow-ochre roads. Every thing 
 looked so far! It was a glance into Liliput, or 
 a view of fairy-land through a reversed telescope. 
 The air above them was a dome of absolute crystal 
 purity. The nearer objects seemed almost within 
 reach. As the vista receded, the blue and rosy and 
 golden hues sifted in, until the remotest objects 
 blended with the sky, and the pursuit became a
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 177 
 
 pain. Phoebe, as we have said, clapped her hands 
 at first ; but, the longer she looked, the more 
 serious she grew, the more rapt and exalted were 
 her feelings. She experienced a sensation of awe, 
 as if in the presence of Omnipotence. 
 
 " I could sit here forever ! " she said. " Such dis- 
 tance, such magical color, such variety ! Think of 
 me at home, never seeing any thing but brick 
 walls ! How I envy you ! " 
 
 Mary looked wonderingly upon her new friend. 
 
 " Yes, it is a high place up here. You can see 
 very far. That mountain there is near fifty miles 
 away : that ridge there is almost a hundred. I 
 often drive up here." 
 
 "I don't speak of mere height and distance," 
 said Phoabe. "I am dazzled by effects. Those 
 clouds of gold, those western hills of yellow topaz, 
 those tiny lakes of moonstone, the mountains of 
 sapphire, how gorgeous! I could fly, surely I 
 could sing." And, without waiting for a sugges- 
 tion, she poured forth a succession of thrilling 
 notes. It is quite certain that the air of that 
 serene hill-top had never been so disturbed before. 
 It was a Tyrolean melody, with a wild yodel at 
 the close. The distant cattle heard it, and came 
 inquiringly towards the singer ; the sheep gath- 
 ered dubiously in clumps ; distant farm-hands in 
 the pastures dropped their bush-hoes and scythes : 
 but, most wonderful of all, there came from the 
 top of another hill somewhat lower, a series of 
 lovely echoes, pure, clear, and far away, "like
 
 178 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 horns from Elfland blowing," living illustrations 
 of Tennyson's immortal song. Voices had been 
 heard on the hill before, but never such a voice, 
 nor one animated by such a soul. 
 
 Mary was greatly affected, though she hardly 
 knew why. " What a voice you have ! Oh, it is 
 beautiful ! It seemed as if you were calling the 
 cows, where your voice went up and down so 
 pretty." 
 
 Phoebe laughed in spite of herself. "Yes, 
 Mary," she said, "that yodel, as they call it, does 
 come from mountainous countries, like Switzer- 
 land; and it is an imitation of the notes of the 
 shepherds calling their flocks while they listen to 
 the echoes far above." 
 
 " But wait till we begin to go down the hill," 
 said Mary: "there is a place at the bend of the 
 road where a good voice can make three separate 
 echoes, one coming back after another." 
 
 They began to descend, going westward, while 
 the sun flooded the immense landscape with molten 
 gold, and while amber and rose-gray shadows be- 
 gan to lurk behind the low hills near by. 
 
 " The last time I was here," said Mary, " was 
 with a young city gentleman, Mr. Amory. Per- 
 haps you know him ? " 
 
 " Oh ! Mr. Amory the poet, your uncle's clerk. 
 Yes, I know him." She was about to utter some 
 merry quip ; but a sudden thought restrained her. 
 
 " He was greatly taken with this place. I had 
 hard work to get him away. We got out of the
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 179 
 
 wagon, and sat back there under a maple-tree ; 
 and how he talked ! Oh, my ! City people mostly 
 go wild up here. We don't mind it so much, we 
 see it so often." The little puritan talked in a 
 sadly prosaic way ; but she looked like a native 
 blossom, tender and sweet, born to waste her 
 beauty on unanointed eyes. 
 
 " You, you like this Mr. Amory, don't you ? " 
 said Phcebe. 
 
 " Yes," said Mary simply. " He isn't hand- 
 some ; but he is good, and he is so intelligent ! 
 Why, he got out for every blossom or weed that 
 he took a notion to, and told all about it; and 
 every bit of shining stone he picked up. And 
 where the rocks seemed to have tipped over, and 
 were standing up edgewise, he told how the earth 
 heaved them up, and left them all out of order ; 
 and on the hill back there, the tip-top, he found 
 long scratches on the broad rock, and said that 
 icebergs had once lodged there, and scraped away 
 into the stone until they melted. Oh, he knows 
 a great deal ! He is a superior man." 
 
 They were at the bend of the road that Mary 
 spoke of, and Phcebe repeated the mountain-song 
 with startling effect. The echo was a marvellous 
 deception. One would think each repetition was 
 surely by an answering voice. They kept on, the 
 " colt " behaving admirably, and soon reached a 
 glen, shut in by dark, high walls of rock, through 
 which rushed a brook in a series of cascades, the 
 spray and bubbles showing from the road like a
 
 180 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 piece of lace-work. The day was waning, and 
 they could not delay; but they gathered some 
 late columbines, a few of the lingering wild aza- 
 leas, which the country-people call swamp-pinks 
 (the most gorgeous and the most fragrant of all 
 the flowering shrubs), also some mosses and ferns, 
 and then drove away down a level road, under 
 lengthening shadows of pine-trees, towards the 
 village. 
 
 On the way Phoebe mentioned that she had 
 heard part of a letter from Mr. Amory read, and 
 that she was interested to know more of him, 
 and where he was, and how he was succeeding. 
 
 This opened a tender subject with Mary ; for 
 she knew that the letter was the one that gave the 
 news of the sudden departure of her brother. 
 This brother Robert was simply worshipped by 
 Mary as well as by her father and mother ; and 
 his death would hardly have touched them more 
 than his manner of leaving them. She feared 
 she might say something to grate upon Phoebe's 
 feelings, and had not intended to mention his 
 name or his strange behavior during the brief 
 visit. Mary urged on the horse, and after a time 
 subdued her rising emotion. With delicate sim- 
 plicity she went on to speak of Amory. 
 
 " I have a letter from him," she said ; " or, 
 rather, it is more like a journal ; and, though it 
 should be private, there are things in it I want 
 uncle Hugh to see. I assure you Mr. Amory is a 
 superior person."
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 181 
 
 "Is it a love-letter?" asked Phoebe merrily. 
 " If it is, I want to read it. I never had one." 
 
 " Your lover," said Mary rather solemnly, 
 " didn't trust to a letter, I suppose, but laid his 
 love at your feet in person." 
 
 Phcebe felt the stroke. It was like the "Nathan 
 said unto David." 
 
 " But, dear Phoebe, it is not a love-letter, though 
 it has some lovely fringes and frills, some dear 
 little words put in here and there. Oh, no ! it is 
 a serious letter, and noble ; and I think uncle 
 Hugh ought to read it." 
 
 They passed through the village, the fairest 
 freight that any wagon ever bore. The piles of 
 ferns, the bunches of many-colored blossoms, and 
 especially the huge sheaf of gorgeous and odorous 
 azaleas, attracted sufficient attention ; and many 
 a farmer-boy loitering by the stores wondered 
 " why the city gals allers wanted to git such an 
 all-fired lot of them swamp-pinks." 
 
 Supper was served at twilight. The affairs of 
 the state and nation had been discussed by the 
 brothers ; the matrons had finished experiences ; 
 and the two girls had come home jubilant. Phoebe 
 had never spent such a day in her life. Mary no 
 longer wondered at her poor brother's fascination. 
 The elder Prescotts looked on the two damsels, 
 and each wondered if the earth could show another 
 such a pair. The longer they looked, the stronger 
 the conviction grew. 
 
 After a while the lights came in, and Mary pro-
 
 182 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 posed to read parts of a certain letter. There 
 was the usual banter between the brothers as to 
 why any parts should be omitted. There were 
 the proper blushes by Mary, and the gay-humored 
 suggestions by Phoebe, until the reading began.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 183 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE reader must supply what Mary called the 
 
 preliminary "fringes and frills." Remembering 
 
 Mr. Amory and his butterflies, we can imagine he 
 
 *had caught some particularly gorgeous specimens 
 
 for his inamorata. 
 
 My AND OF MY , The pas- 
 sage of the St. Lawrence and the Great Lakes has been 
 often described. I should weary you with the details, if I 
 were to copy from my note-book. The majestic sheets of 
 water deserve to be called oceans. I refer, of course, to 
 Lakes Huron and Superior, as I have not seen Lake Michi- 
 gan. The Greeks and Romans had no knowledge of inland 
 seas so large, and never made any voyages so perilous as 
 that from Lake St. Clair around into Lake Michigan. 
 These immense distances, I find, do have an influence upon 
 the habit of thinking. I find myself, so to speak, dilating, 
 and have only begun to appreciate the immensity of the 
 country we live in. When I have crossed the Rocky Moun- 
 tains, I presume I shall have a still grander conception. 
 
 Well, here I am in the little village with an Indian 
 name, and I propose to remain for some weeks. You proba- 
 bly know, my , that I gave some attention to 
 
 mineralogy, among other branches of natural science. This 
 is the region of copper-mines. Scores of fortunes have 
 been made here, and hundreds of fortunes have been lost. 
 It seems to be the general opinion here that a successful 
 mine is a sheer piece of good luck. In a certain way I
 
 184 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 believe in luck; but in regard to matters depending on 
 sharp observation, correct deduction, and intelligent action, 
 there is very little of it. 
 
 What I am now writing embodies the experience of sev- 
 eral days. I have been walking about the leaning derricks 
 and crumbling furnaces of several abandoned mines. One 
 is called the " Corinthian ;" and my dear old governor, Hugh 
 Prescott, was its chief owner and promoter. There is still 
 a little office of one story, though not occupied ; and there 
 is a dwelling-house, in which a custodian lives, rent free, for 
 keeping the property in order. In order! The task is not 
 harder than disciplining a gallery of mummies. Every 
 thing is as dead as Pompeii. From all I can see, the work 
 done was as intelligent as the butting of a ram. Shafts 
 were driven right into the hill on a venture. If they hit 
 veins of copper, well; if not, just as well; for the company 
 paid, all the same. The observation of scientific men, the 
 experience of skilful miners, and the traditions of the abo- 
 rigines, concur in the statemen^ that there is copper here 
 enough to supply the world. I propose to take a little 
 time, and see what can be done. 
 
 The old custodian prefers to sit in the house, and smoke 
 his pipe. I cannot tempt him out; but I have walked 
 over the property, and have scaled hills, and inspected 
 ravines, that I presume no one has trod for a long time 
 before. 
 
 Some days ago I was looking at a steep acclivity in a 
 remote position, on which there was an unusual growth of 
 bushes and small trees. " Why," I asked myself, " is 
 there this wealth of vegetation, these luxuriant bunches of 
 shrubs? " " Of course it is from some unusual fertilization 
 of the soil." "But why was this rocky place fertilized?" 
 "Because men have at some time haunted it, and the 
 remains of their food or that of their animals have accu- 
 mulated here." I determined to explore. 
 
 I went to the house, got an axe and a short, stout 
 scythe, and made havoc among the brush. I grubbed up
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 185 
 
 roots, and picked my way into crevices. By and by, when 
 the bushes were cleared away, and the whole face of the 
 spur of the hill could be observed, it was easy to see that 
 a large central portion was composed of loam and sand that 
 had fallen or settled there, while the ancient rocks stood 
 out on either side. To remove that detritus of loam and 
 sand was the next task. I dared not take any one into my 
 confidence, for reasons that you will appreciate; and the 
 whole work had to be done by my own hands. I stole a 
 pick-axe, a hoe, and spade, and every day I worked steadily. 
 In a week, I had dug away the alluvium, and come to the 
 rocks. I was amply repaid. There were marks of tools on 
 the sides of the opening I had made. Miners had wrought 
 there. These were proofs of the correctness of my theory. 
 Before long I had opened an adit that had been closed, per- 
 haps for hundreds of years, by the earth sliding into and 
 before it, blocking it up. It was an entrance that had been 
 worked by intelligent miners : every thing showed that. 
 Cautiously I kept at work, and soon came against a solid 
 wall of copper. 
 
 I don't know as you know what this means ; but my 
 
 ! I can tell you. It means unbounded wealth. It 
 
 means trips to Europe, houses in upper-ten-dom, libraries, 
 yachts, horses, and the gratification of every wish. 
 
 You have noticed that I mentioned the " Corinthian." 
 This mountain of copper, though unworked for centuries, 
 is within the limits of that property. My best of friends, 
 as I have said, is chief owner. The outstanding shares I 
 will get hold of, and have sent to a shrewd broker to buy 
 them for me, especially Gibbs's. I wouldn't miss seeing his 
 rage for any thing on earth. I mean to buy them for about 
 1, and have them go up to 180. It will be a glorious spec- 
 tacle to see him tear his hair. 
 
 "I am more glad than I can tell you, for the sake of my 
 good friend, Hugh Prescott. Before this reaches you, you 
 will have heard of his troubles. Gibbs has him tight as a 
 Vise. Gibbs will squeeze him, and pitch him out. This
 
 186 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 discovery is going to save him, if the news reaches him in 
 season, and our projects can take firm root. The same mail 
 that takes this letter will carry a similar one to him. If he 
 bestirs himself, he can hoist that brute of a Gibbs, and 
 make him retire, singing a popular melody. 
 
 You see, I can't leave here. I am keeping watch over 
 the custodian, lest he behold, and blab. I have sent for two 
 gallons of whiskey and two pounds of smoking- tobacco for 
 him, and he is happy. I have also sent East for a trusty 
 friend to come on instanter, and relieve me from keeping 
 guard night and day. When I have bought all the loose 
 certificates that are lying round, especially Gibbs's, I will 
 take a nap. Hurrah for the " Corinthian " ! 
 
 By the by, my , I am troubled to think 
 
 about your brother Robert. He is a splendid, magnificent 
 fellow, if he is a preacher; and I am sorry for his bad luck, 
 as well as uneasy about him. Do you know where he has 
 gone ? I know he said he was going to foreign parts ; but 
 I have always heard, that, when a new batch of missionaries 
 leaves, they meet on the wharf, and pray and sing, and give 
 a solemn "send off." Now, I have looked at the New- York 
 papers (and they are all mailed to me), under the head of 
 " Religious Intelligence," but have seen no mention of the 
 Reverend Robert. Of course he may have gone quietly. 
 But I should like to be assured that he has kept his balance, 
 and come to no harm. I wish he could be here with me. 
 We two could run this machine. 
 
 With of my , and with a thousand 
 
 , I am devotedly 
 
 Your , 
 
 G. P. AMORY. 
 
 Probably the innocent Mary, as she concluded 
 reading, had not the least idea what a bomb-shell 
 she had dropped in that quiet party. There was 
 a missile in it for everybody. The revelation of
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 187 
 
 Hugh Prescott's affairs produced the utmost con- 
 sternation. His plan of breaking the news gradu- 
 ally to his wife was frustrated. Solomon now saw 
 why the old house was being repaired. Aunt Zer- 
 uiah had recourse to Scripture ; and, between her 
 sincere sorrow for Hugh's downfall and her re- 
 newed apprehensions for the fate of her son, she 
 could hardly remember enough texts to meet the 
 emergency. It was Phoebe's destiny to receive a 
 fresh stab at every turn. The two Prescotts, her 
 vehement lovers, had managed so ill as to leave 
 her exposed to unjust censure, and make her rela- 
 tions with their families most unpleasant. The 
 two mothers sat gazing at her, the one looking 
 like " a section of the day of judgment ; " the 
 other dissolved in tears, sobbing hysterically, now 
 moaning for her lost son, and now for her ruined 
 husband. It was noticeable that not one of the 
 company appeared to place much confidence in 
 Amory's discovery. Being a poet, he was consid- 
 ered as necessarily a flighty person, without sound 
 judgment or discretion. Hugh Prescott, who was 
 the one most vitally interested, had listened to the 
 letter very earnestly, and was somewhat affected 
 by the writer's enthusiasm ; but he remembered 
 that many similar " discoveries " had been made 
 that afterwards turned out to be of no practical 
 value. His ruin he knew was a certainty : the 
 rescue by the rise of copper stock was exceedingly 
 problematical. Besides, the time in which he 
 would have to raise the money, if he attempted
 
 188 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 to pay off Gibbs, and save the business, was now 
 very short ; and the value of the Corinthian stock 
 could not be really established, except upon the evi- 
 dence of a scientific expert. 
 
 Phoebe was at first overwhelmed solely with 
 the thought of her protector's situation. While 
 she had lived with him, she had never known a 
 want. Money had been as natural and as plenty 
 as Cochituate : it was only touching the knob of 
 a faucet. The thought of living upon a narrow 
 income, of counting the price of dresses, or of 
 supplying such wants by the sale of eggs and 
 chickens, had never occurred to her. Poverty, 
 like death, was an ugly subject, to be kept in the 
 background : now its grim visage was appallingly 
 near. But her courage rose ; and she was ready 
 to meet what was inevitable in a far nobler spirit 
 than Mrs. Prescott could show. But the mother's 
 laments for Roderick, and the solemn looks of the 
 mother of Robert, were too much. How was she 
 to explain to the one the unutterable things that 
 had preceded Roderick's going away ? And what 
 right had that stern Hebrew to assume that her 
 preacher son had any claim upon a fresh young- 
 girl ? How could she unfold the intricacy of feel- 
 ing with which she had regarded that religious 
 enthusiast ? How could she explain that all the 
 feeling of love which the glowing man might have 
 inspired was quenched by the solemnity of the 
 preacher? She pitied the mother of Roderick, 
 though she saw her weakness ; but she was rather
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 189 
 
 indignant with the mother of Robert, who, with 
 her implacable Old-Testament wrath, sat corrus- 
 cating and frowning at her across the room. It 
 was an unequal strife. Phoebe soon touched the 
 arm of Mary, and the two girls retired to their 
 chamber. 
 
 There a long conversation followed, in which 
 Phoebe opened her heart to her friend ; and, when 
 at a very late hour sleep came, the two girls were 
 locked in each other's arms. 
 
 Mrs. Prescott had sobbed herself into helpless- 
 ness, and was persuaded to go to bed. Her large 
 blue eyes seemed to have been made for weeping, 
 and her soft and flexible lips were always under 
 the dominion of some emotion. 
 
 The brothers walked out into the front-yard, 
 and talked under the shade-trees till bed-time. 
 Aunt Zeruiah was left to herself, a Nemesis whose 
 retributions now fell chiefly on her own head. 
 
 It was a sorrowful group that met for breakfast 
 next morning. The interval of rest had brought 
 no healing to sore hearts. The visit of which so 
 much was anticipated became dismal in reality. 
 There was no way to restore harmony, still less to 
 bring cheerfulness or gayety. Mr. Prescott pro- 
 posed to return to the city to look after the 
 expected letter from Amory, but persuaded his 
 wife to stay until the servants could come with a 
 portion of the furniture for the refitted house. 
 Phoebe also determined to go. She could not 
 bear to be the focus of those two pairs of eyes;
 
 190 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 and she did not know which gave her the most 
 pain. She would go to stay with Miss Thorpe 
 until there was a calmer atmosphere on the old 
 hill. 
 
 After their departure by the early train, uncle 
 Solomon got his team, sent for some hands to 
 help, and spent the day in putting the yard and 
 garden of his brother's house in order. He trans- 
 ported corned beef, pork, and vegetables for his 
 cellar, hay and grain for his barn, set up a cook- 
 ing-stove in the kitchen in the lean-to, and got a 
 stock of groceries from the store in the village ; so 
 that the house was ready for occupancy. Mary 
 stole down the hill with bunches of azaleas and 
 other flowers, and disposed them in vases and 
 pitchers, opened the windows to air the rooms, 
 and put away the articles in the closets. 
 
 The two disconsolate mothers meanwhile had a 
 sorry time. 
 
 Mary, simple-hearted creature, had not under- 
 stood why the letter that to her was so full of 
 promise should have given every one such a 
 shock.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 191 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 ON the way to the city Phoebe had an oppor- 
 tunity to meditate. Her position was becoming 
 very disagreeable. She could not take up her 
 abode with Miss Thorpe without wounding the 
 feelings of her old friends ; and she was beginning 
 to feel that she ought not to be a pensioner upon 
 the bounty of any one. With the Prescotts she 
 must be perpetually reminded of the double mis- 
 chance ; and she did not know which was the 
 more painful to bear, the somewhat ostentatious 
 sorrow of the one bereaved mother, or the stern 
 and unrelenting disfavor of the other. If she be- 
 came wholly an inmate of her foster-father's 
 house in Eaglemont, she would constantly encoun- 
 ter either the sighing Episcopalian, or the frowning 
 Calvinistic dame. It was not to be borne. She 
 had tried it ; and, much as she loved her dear and 
 fatherly protector, she shrunk from returning to 
 the country with him, either in his prosperity or 
 adversity. She pondered; and when she took a 
 carriage at the station, after leaving Mr. Prescott, 
 she ordered the coachman to drive to Signer Bel- 
 vedere's rooms. 
 
 The master was voluble, as usual, and profuse in
 
 192 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 compliment, as became a man of his race and cul- 
 ture. Phoebe carefully opened the matter, and 
 asked him what she could do to support herself. 
 " And you really, really, Meess Phaybe, wish to 
 work, to teach ? " 
 
 " I really, really do." 
 
 " It is a most serious thing. You are tender in 
 feeling, and you are-a proud too. It will not be 
 life in a rose-garden for you to teach the indiffer- 
 ents, the incapables, and the insolents. Many and 
 hateful characters are group-ed in schools; "and 
 the teachers get all the hatefulness." 
 
 " I am prepared, and will try." 
 
 "Well-a, then, I rejoice to tell you there is a 
 chance. The new collegium puellarum needs a 
 teacher of music. "Who can play better? Who 
 can sing so well ? Yes, my dear-a Phaybe, 
 Meess Phaybe, I should say, the head of the col- 
 lege has done me the honor to consult me. I will 
 hasten to him and announce, that, after much 
 persuasion, I have induced a very lovely and ac- 
 complish-ed youngg lady, moving in-a the selectest 
 circles of the "haul ton, to accept the situation in 
 his-a college. I shall represent that the appoint- 
 ment will-a confer lustre upon the new and risingg 
 institution, and that I am prepar-ed to receive his 
 congratulations for the great favor I have-a done 
 him." 
 
 Phoebe had gone to him in her grim mood, and 
 had meant to be as resolute as one of the Fates ; 
 but his raillery conquered, and she laughed heart- 
 
 ay-
 
 MAN PROPOSES.' 193 
 
 " And do you think I can make good your mag- 
 nificent commendations? You cover me with 
 loads of roses." 
 
 " With rose-leaves, Meess Phaybe, to judge from 
 the beautiful flush that-a covers your lovely 
 cheeks." 
 
 " To be serious for a moment, let me say, that to 
 know how to sing or play is one thing ; to teach 
 is quite another." 
 
 " Ah, instinct is a great matter, as your Shake- 
 a-speare's Falstaff says. You will not-a have diffi- 
 culty. Put yourself in the pupil's place. Remem- 
 ber your own trials. Besides, I will go over the 
 method, not as before, but with a view to make 
 you the instructor." 
 
 " So you think I can do it? " 
 
 " Certainly. It will be necessary, that, when the 
 faculty see a white raven, you see one too ; that 
 is, a certain deference to the opinion of the people 
 in power is to be commended. They may know 
 nothing ; but you must-a treat them as if they 
 were Solomons and Lord-a Bacons. Perhaps you 
 are orthodox (it is a hard word to say, and I 
 don't-a know what it means) ; but, if you are not, 
 it is not-a necessary that you publish it by sound 
 of trumpet on the house-top. It is just as well 
 to be in favor and then to think in petto what 
 you like." 
 
 With his usual celerity and good-fortune, Sig- 
 nor Belvedere went and obtained the place, and 
 came in the evening to Miss Thorpe's to announce
 
 194 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 his success. He had arranged that she was to pass 
 Saturday and Sunday in the city ; and that was 
 some consolation to Miss Thorpe, who at first had 
 been strongly against the project. Phoebe was 
 firm, and chiefly because she felt she was right. 
 Let come what would she was now independent, 
 and would neither burden Mr. Prescott, nor hum- 
 ble herself by subsisting upon the bounty of a 
 newly-found friend. She was to enter upon her 
 duties at the beginning of the new term, now not 
 far distant. 
 
 Mr. Prescott found no letter from Amory. 
 There was no doubt that the letter had been 
 written ; but who can account for the mistakes of 
 the post-office, and explain why a plainly directed 
 epistle sometimes makes the round of half the 
 States in the Union before it comes to its proper 
 destination ? He wrote to Amory, but knew, that, 
 before an answer could be received, the time for 
 his settlement with Gibbs would come. Daily 
 he thought of the missing letter ; but no tidings 
 came. Still he thought best to get all the mining 
 shares he could into his possession, and through a 
 broker he secured all that could be found, includ- 
 ing those which Gibbs had. They cost but a 
 trifle, and would add but little to his losses, even 
 if Amory's hopes were fallacious. He was ready 
 to take advantage of fortune if the fickle goddess 
 did not again elude him. 
 
 He sent up the furniture by rail in charge of 
 two servants, dismissed the others, sold his horses,
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 195 
 
 and shut up his town house. A fortnight re- 
 mained, and he resolved to spend that interval in 
 the country. Among the letters he carried to his 
 wife was one that attracted his attention by its 
 size and by the foreign stamps and seal. This he 
 handed to her on his arrival, and waited for her to 
 read it. He saw with pleasure how thoroughly 
 his wishes had been carried out in the arrange- 
 ments of the house, and thought, if the downfall 
 came, he could scarcely desire a more comfortable 
 home. 
 
 Mrs. Prescott was absent but a few minutes ; 
 but on her return her face was a miracle of sur- 
 prise and joy. 
 
 " I never wanted to keep any secrets from you," 
 she exclaimed ; " but Miss Thorpe thought it pru- 
 dent to keep this matter private for a time, as the 
 interests involved were so near and dear, and we 
 didn't wish to have any hopes raised until there 
 was a sure ground for them. But this is too good 
 news. I fear it can't be true. I always felt 
 drawn to that darling. I didn't suspect she was 
 my own flesh and blood." 
 
 Mrs. Prescott was so excited, that, in trying to 
 read the letter, it dropped from her hand. 
 " Read it, my dear," she said : " I can't command 
 myself." 
 
 Mr. Prescott picked up the letter, and carefully 
 read the first pages. When he had reached a cer- 
 tain point he was quite as excited as his wife. He 
 lost his spectacles, found them on the top of his
 
 196 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 head, pulled out his handkerchief, laid it on the 
 table, folded the letter instead, and crammed it in 
 his pocket, all the time walking about, and plying 
 his wife with questions. A happier couple was 
 never seen. They embraced each other, cried, 
 kissed, tried to look over the letter again ; but 
 neither could read a line : and at length they sat 
 down, side by side, hand in hand, like two young 
 lovers, and talked no end of nonsensical endear- 
 ment. 
 
 The purport of the letter was this. Mrs. Pres- 
 cott's brother, Roderick Manning, a year younger 
 than herself, had many years ago married an 
 Italian opera-singer, a young widow with a title, 
 still in her first bloom, and with an unblemished 
 fame. But the marriage had cost the young man 
 his father's favor. He was cast off, and left un- 
 provided for. He fell into evil habits, especially 
 gambling, and absorbed all his wife's earnings to 
 gratify his fatal passion. A child was born to 
 them ; and the husband, for a time, gave up vice, 
 and became a more thoughtful and provident 
 man. But the wife lost her voice and her energy, 
 and could appear no more in public ; and, as noth- 
 ing had been saved in the time of her success, the 
 road to starvation and misery was very short. 
 They disappeared, and it was believed they had 
 gone to America. 
 
 The story told by Mrs. Maloney seemed to fur- 
 nish the sequel. There was as yet no legal proof, 
 but a high degree of probability. Mrs. Prescott
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 197 
 
 then reminded her husband of Miss Thorpe V 
 advertisement for the lost prayer-book. If that 
 book could be found, the evidence would be com- 
 plete. 
 
 " By George, I have it ! " exclaimed Mr. Pres- 
 cott. " Why didn't Miss Thorpe go to the anti- 
 quarian bookstore? Benham, you know, who 
 keeps those stacks of old books that you wonder 
 what they are good for. Why, he knows every 
 volume in the shop. Try him ; and he will scratch 
 his head a moment, then go up a ladder, and 
 in ten seconds put his hand on the book you ask 
 for. He buys every thing that offers : nothing 
 comes amiss. Ten to one he has that prayer-book 
 now." 
 
 " Then why don't you write to Miss Thorpe ? " 
 
 " I will, at once. But let me look at that letter 
 again." 
 
 He read it again, and this time to the end. It 
 appeared that Phoebe would be entitled, when the 
 necessary proof was furnished, and this part 
 was underscored, to a legacy of ten thousand 
 pounds, and that she with Mrs. Prescott were also 
 heirs presumptive to the writer of the letter. 
 Then were renewed the embraces of the pair of 
 elderly lovers. When they became sober again, a 
 letter was written and despatched to Miss Thorpe. 
 It gave a brief epitome of Mr. Ralph Manning's 
 letter, and recommended her to go to Beuham's 
 bookstore at once. 
 
 Miss Thorpe, upon reading the news, was as
 
 198 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 much excited as her nature would allow ; but she 
 carefully concealed from Phoebe her feelings and 
 the letter. It was mid-day ; and upon some pre- 
 tence she left the house, and with trembling steps 
 went towards the bookstore. Much as Miss 
 Thorpe repelled the idea of married life, she pos- 
 sessed a warm heart ; and her feelings towards 
 Phoebe were like those of a mother. Day by day 
 the ties had grown stronger; and she had an 
 almost feverish hope that the girl might prove to 
 be her niece, the daughter of her unfortunate sis- 
 ter. In any event, the position of Phoebe was 
 what the position of her sister's child would have 
 been. That fact alone enlisted her sympathy ; and 
 who could say, from the little that was known, 
 whether the report that her sister had died child- 
 less was not a conjecture ? True, the mother of 
 Phcebe had an Italian name ; but did not the same 
 report say that she was a widow, a widow with a 
 title, when she married the young Englishman? 
 Her sister in youth had greatly resembled Phoebe ; 
 she had lived for years in Italy, so as to become 
 like an Italian in speech and manner ; she had 
 been in her day a prima donna, and had married a 
 degenerate Italian noble. Phcebe might be her sis- 
 ter's child, after all. The thought almost took 
 away her breath, and made her limbs tremble be- 
 neath her. Who shall blame the childless woman, 
 now that the tendrils of her heart were twined 
 about this girl, if she hoped and prayed that the 
 whole story might prove to be a fiction, unless the
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 199 
 
 part in which she was interested, the name of 
 the mother, should be established as well as that 
 of the father ? She could not give her up. 
 
 It is not necessary to explain how the mind of 
 a bookseller retains the thousands of titles: it is 
 enough, that, upon being asked for the Italian 
 prayer-book by Miss Thorpe, Mr. Benham went 
 into a corner, and brought it out. Her prognosti- 
 cations as to its size and appearance were nearly 
 correct ; only the covers were limp, and fastened 
 by a simple leathern strap ; and in one side there 
 was a receptacle just large enough to admit a 
 visiting-card. Miss Thorpe turned away as she 
 observed this, so that the bookseller might not see 
 her emotion. She drew out a thin piece of paper, 
 so it seemed, so thin as to have escaped 
 notice. Her breath came quick as she took it. 
 
 It was a card, worn and soiled ; but the inscrip- 
 tion was still legible. There was a faint outline of 
 a coronet at the top, and below were the words, 
 "LA CONTESSA DELLA TORRE." Who was the 
 countess? At that moment Miss Thorpe would 
 have given her whole fortune to have read there, 
 " nata Thorpe ; " but there was nothing more to 
 be seen. She turned the card. Lines seemed 
 struggling into view ; but the glazed and grimy 
 surface made them indistinct, and the sorrowful 
 lady's eyes were dim with tears. Yes, the high 
 priestess of intellect had succumbed to an emo- 
 tion : the serene, high head was bowed, and she 
 wept like another woman. She put the card in
 
 200 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 her own case, intending to scan it more closely at 
 home. She paid the bookseller the price charged. 
 He had not noticed the advertised reward, and 
 now refused to take the large sum offered. 
 
 While returning home, Miss Thorpe recovered 
 her mental discipline ; but it was necessary to lave 
 her hot face, and cool her inflamed eyes. After a 
 time, she came into the library, where Phoebe was 
 sitting, and chatted pleasantly about the books 
 and periodicals. 
 
 Phcebe thought her singularly alert in feeling 
 and manner. Her mental movements seemed like 
 those of the needle when agitated by the neighbor- 
 hood of the magnet, trembling, aiming, swerv- 
 ing, poising, and still returning to its polar alle- 
 giance. Still Miss Thorpe thought herself calm, 
 until, in preparing her microscope for use, she was 
 compelled to see that her hands were quite un- 
 steady. She stopped a moment to recover herself, 
 and asked Bridget to go for Mrs. Maloney. 
 
 Phcebe wondered at the agitation ; but she had 
 learned to control herself in Miss Thorpe's society, 
 and never disturbed her friend by questions. After 
 some meditation, Miss Thorpe said, " You remem- 
 ber, Phcebe, what I have told you about my beau- 
 tiful sister. I told you she became a great singer, 
 and married a man of rank, but a man unworthy 
 of her, and that after a season of married life, full 
 of pain and trouble, she died. You know I said 
 she had no child (that was the report) ; but I have 
 doubted it. You certainly look very much as she 
 did, and her name was Phcebe."
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 201 
 
 The girl's eyes sparkled with a sudden anima- 
 tion. 
 
 "Do you know any thing more now? Have 
 you any news ? Oh, if it could be true ! " 
 
 " Then you would like to have it true ? " 
 
 "Of all things!" she answered eagerly. "You 
 are like a mother to me ; though, to be sure, Mrs. 
 Prescott has been a mother too. But I hope you 
 have something to tell me. If you were truly my 
 aunt, how I should love you ! " 
 
 " And don't you love me now ? " 
 
 " I love you with all my heart ; but if you were 
 my aunt, you know, my poor mother's sister, my 
 own blood, why I should have a better right to 
 love you. Now, while I am not your relative, your 
 love to me is a little like a charity, and I feel I 
 don't deserve it ; and though I am grateful, and 
 I know how good you are, yet yet I am not en- 
 titled to the least thing. It makes a difference, 
 doesn't it ? I know I shouldn't be entitled to any 
 thing, even as your niece ; but it wouldn't be so 
 unusual. No one likes always to take favors and 
 kindness that can never be returned." 
 
 " I hope your heart will be always where it is 
 now. I want you to love me, whether it turns out 
 that I am your aunt or not. Tell me that you 
 will." 
 
 " I always shall." 
 
 " Even if your father s relatives claim you ? " 
 
 " No one shall ever come between us. Of 
 course, if I find my father's people, I shall owe
 
 202 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 something to them. But I can never forget you, 
 never." 
 
 She seized Miss Thorpe's hand to kiss it ; but 
 the nervous little woman drew the unresisting 
 girl down to her side upon the sofa, and, putting 
 her arm round her waist, drew her to her bosom, 
 and kissed her fondly. It had been many a year 
 since Miss Thorpe had kissed any one, even of 
 her own sex. Miss Thorpe now brought out the 
 missal and the card, but held them in her own 
 hands. 
 
 " Before I tell you about these, will you please 
 read this card ? " 
 
 Phoebe took it, and read aloud, " LA CONTESSA 
 BELLA TORRE." Miss Thorpe, by a great effort, 
 then asked her to look at the reverse. The writ- 
 ing was not clear, even to Phoebe's fine vision : so 
 the card was put under the microscope. " Tell 
 me what you see. Begin at the top, and give it 
 in order." 
 
 Phoebe read hesitatingly these names : 
 
 " Febe Ludovico. 
 
 Febe Maria Isabella, rosabella. 
 
 Roderick Manning. 
 Febe della T. Manning, nata " 
 
 But great currents of blood were surging 
 through Phoebe's heart, dizzying her brain, and 
 flushing scarlet her cheeks. She could be re- 
 strained no longer. 
 
 " And this was my mother's ! " She kissed the 
 soiled paper. The rush of emotion choked her.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 203 
 
 Then tears came. Then she grew paler, and sat 
 down overcome. 
 
 Miss Thorpe wished she had not been so abrupt ; 
 but she soothed her, and soon had the delight of 
 seeing her natural color return. 
 
 " You have not asked me about these names, 
 and I have no certain information to give you ; 
 but I think this is the explanation : The names 
 * Febe ' and ' Ludovico ' are coupled, showing the 
 first marriage, Febe (somebody) and Ludovico, 
 Count della Torre ; for your mother was a count- 
 ess and a widow when she married your father. 
 That is his name, as I believe, ' Roderick Man- 
 ning.' We know at least that Mrs. Prescott had 
 a brother Roderick (for whom her son was named), 
 who married an Italian countess, formerly a pub- 
 lic singer, and was cast off by his family. ' Febe 
 Maria Isabella ' of course is your own name. 
 ' Rosabella ' may have been a transient word of 
 affection for you beautiful rose as she wrote 
 your name." 
 
 Then she set Phoebe at a little distance, to look 
 at her. It was a perpetual pleasure to observe the 
 " pure and eloquent blood " in her cheeks, the 
 delicate play of emotion about her beautiful lips, 
 and the lively but humid brilliancy of her eyes. 
 She was a being formed to love. 
 
 "Phcebe," she said, "I suppose there is now 
 very little doubt that your father's name and 
 family have been ascertained." 
 
 " That is what Signer Belvedere said," she
 
 204 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 replied, with a kindling interest, " an English 
 father and an Italian mother." 
 
 " He was of a good family ; and the head of it, 
 who is now an elderly man without children, has 
 lately written in answer to a letter of inquiry. 
 Some legal formalities have to be gone through 
 with; but, if the truth prevails, you will soon 
 come into possession of a sum sufficient for your 
 support. I fear they will want you to go over 
 there." 
 
 " And leave you ? Never ! The family probably 
 cast my parents off, and left my mother to die. I 
 owe them nothing. You and Mrs. Prescott have 
 been like mothers to me. I will never leave you, 
 not even for a fortune." 
 
 " I don't know I trust you won't. But a for- 
 tune and position are very tempting." 
 
 " Well, if I have a fortune, I shall be my own 
 mistress in a year, and I can do as I like. And, 
 if I have to go over, I'll take you and Mr. and 
 Mrs. Prescott with me." 
 
 " Mrs. Prescott, I have no doubt, would like to 
 visit her old home." 
 
 "Yes!" said the girl, with a sudden burst of 
 enthusiasm ; " and they shall go. Mr. Prescott 
 has lost all, only his house and books and furni- 
 ture. He is too old to begin business again. Oh, 
 if I could now take care of him, and make him 
 comfortable ! Shall I have enough ? " 
 
 "I hope so. And you would find your visit 
 with them very pleasant. You would go to the
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 205 
 
 same neighborhood, to the same house ; for, do 
 you comprehend? you are a Manning, a descend- 
 ant of the great admiral, Mrs. Prescott's niece." 
 
 " And Roderick is my cousin ; and Robert 
 no, Robert is not." 
 
 " Yes, Roderick; is your cousin ; and cousins 
 should not marry." 
 
 Phoebe answered only by an untranslatable 
 glance ; but in a moment she returned in thought 
 to the card. " After all, I don't know any more 
 about my mother. Who was the Countess della 
 Torre?" 
 
 " I cannot answer you," said Miss Thorpe sadly. 
 " Only she was young, a singer, and a widow when 
 she married your father. I could never trace my 
 poor sister." 
 
 Phcebe looked at the face of the woman who 
 was hungering for affection, and thought with a 
 great throb what a joy it would be if her mother 
 should really have been that lost sister. 
 
 But now came Mrs. Maloney, and looked at the 
 book. " O Blissed Virgin ! " she exclaimed ; " and 
 that is the same ! Oh, truly, Miss Phayba, that 
 was your mother's ! Niver paert with it ; and say 
 your prayers out uv it, my daerlin', as your mother 
 did. They made her soul aisy, anyhow. An' she 
 told me she was born a Protestant." 
 
 Then, looking with glistening eyes on the card, 
 * Ah ! An' there is the name that my poor head 
 couldn't remember." She was turning it over, 
 and looking at it upside down mostly, having de- 
 ciphered nothing but the coronet.
 
 206 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 " An' that's to show she was to be a saint in 
 heaven. The holy mother and the angels in the 
 pictures always has thim gold hoops over their 
 heads." 
 
 Phoebe and Miss Thorpe exchanged faint smiles, 
 but did not enlighten her upon the difference be- 
 tween the coronet and an angelic halo. 
 
 " An' to think that I couldn't rmembeer the 
 name ! " Miss Thorpe gave a signal of silence to 
 Phoebe. Mrs. Maloney might become garrulous, 
 if she knew the story. 
 
 " Never mind," said Phoebe : " it is no matter 
 now. And when I have a home of my own, and 
 that will not be long, I shall have a place in it 
 for yx)u as long as you live. I have been so sorry 
 that I could do no more for you while I was with 
 Mrs. Prescott ; but I had nothing of my own. It 
 will soon be different; and then, Mrs. Maloney, 
 you good soul ! then you will know that I remem- 
 ber my friends." 
 
 This was something of an effort for Phoebe ; but 
 she spoke with an earnestness that showed the 
 depth of her feelings. Mrs. Maloney was profuse 
 in her thanks and her blessings ; and it was with 
 considerable delay and friction that she took her 
 departure. 
 
 "Now," said Miss Thorpe, "we must reply to 
 Mr. Prescott's letter, and inform them of the dis- 
 covery ; but, for many reasons, I would advise you 
 to keep this a secret from your other friends, for 
 the present. Perhaps you might make an excep-
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 207 
 
 tion in favor of Signer Belvedere, first binding 
 him to silence. As he must have known most of 
 the . famous singers of twenty years ago, he may 
 be able to tell us who the Countess della Torre 
 was." 
 
 Phoebe saw the wisdom of the advice ; but she 
 almost fluttered like a bird in her impatience, 
 until she could see her teacher, and impart to him 
 the wonderful news. Her mother a countess ! 
 Surely an educated Italian gentleman must know 
 the family names of the nobility. 
 
 But Signor Belvedere was strangely cool or 
 non-committal. " Yes, Meess Phaybe," he said, " I 
 have-a heard of the Della Torres, an old and 
 respectable family. But that any one of its coun- 
 tesses should be a singer, and should drift across 
 the Atlantic to die alone in a tenement-house, is, 
 at the least, very surprising. Do not a-believe it, 
 my dear youngg lady, until it is prov-ed. We will 
 inquire. Be calm. The heart of youth should 
 reache forward more than backward. I think, 
 however, you will yet know your parents." 
 
 Phoebe was silent, meditative : evidently she 
 had something more to say. The master saw, but 
 shrugged his shoulders. " It will a-come out," he 
 might have said. 
 
 " It is some time since you were in Italy, is it 
 not?" 
 
 " Oh, yes ! A do-zen years and more." 
 
 " Do you never think of going back ? " 
 
 "Of course, some time. My parents are dead
 
 208 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 some years ? but I have a sister and brother, and 
 I don't know how many nephews and nieces." 
 " And you say you knew the Delia Torres ? " 
 " And-a what does all this mean, Meess Phaybe ? " 
 Phoebe was not in the least confused, but looked 
 at him with a soft and steady gaze, as if her eyes 
 had been two stars. 
 
 " I would not put my burdens on others ; but 
 think how a girl must feel who has not a mother ! 
 How I should adore the man who found her for 
 me, although I am never to see her ! The gleam 
 of light from that prayer-book, it is like a ray 
 from heaven. Can't I trace that book? Its worn 
 and soiled leather is fragrant to me. It was my 
 mother's, you know, my mother's. I must fol- 
 low the trace. I have thought that some time you 
 would make a visit to your native land, and " 
 
 " And and, my dear Phaybe, in the God's 
 good time I will. We will find out the truth about 
 La Contessa." 
 
 " You will not forget ? You will write perhaps ; 
 some time you will go. It is a great thing to ask. 
 You see, I presume on your generosity. You seem 
 all nobleness to me. You rise always higher with 
 each occasion." 
 
 " And you grow always the lovelier." 
 Phoebe was beginning to weep, from sheer 
 excess of sensibility. 
 
 " Come, come, dear Meess Phaybe, let us not have 
 the April rain at this time of the year. Good-by. 
 The thought-seed you have planted will-a sprout."
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 209 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE good news was duly sent to Eaglemont by 
 Phoebe in a letter full of unaffected tenderness 
 and of lively gratitude to her benefactors. They 
 replied, asking her to come and pass the remainder 
 of the pleasant season, and to bring Miss Thorpe. 
 But Phoebe's new engagement rendered it imprac- 
 ticable to make any but a short visit away from 
 the city. As Mr. Prescott was soon to come 
 down on business, Phoebe promised to return with 
 him. and pass a Sunday. 
 
 Meantime Phoebe continued the course of read- 
 ing she had begun with Miss Thorpe, practised 
 singing with her master an hour daily, and re- 
 newed her acquaintance with French and German. 
 Idleness was impossible with Miss Thorpe, and 
 her mental activity was stimulating and conta- 
 gious. Phoebe had been fairly educated, after the 
 prevailing mode ; but she found she had got more 
 of the results of learning under her friend's direc- 
 tion than in all her life before. Nothing more 
 was said about fitting herself for the stage. The 
 calm good sense of her friend had checked the 
 incipient desire, and the terrible lesson of the lost 
 sister's career had not been without effect. Miss
 
 210 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 Thorpe, on her part, yielded somewhat, and made 
 no objection to the girl's giving lessons, or singing 
 for practice. 
 
 The time came for Mr. Prescott to meet his 
 late partner. Mr. Gibbs had been growing 
 stouter ; though, with his increasing prosperity, he 
 affected juvenile costumes. He carried a slender 
 cane, and had a habit, while talking or listening, 
 of tapping his patent-leather boots with it. His 
 watch-chains were massive and gorgeous, and he 
 wore a broad seal-ring. But nothing could take 
 the attention of the beholder from his increasing 
 corpulence, and from the deepening colors in his 
 full cheeks and extraordinary nose. 
 
 When the partners met, there was little said. 
 Mr. Prescott observed that the unusual balance 
 against him was, in a measure, factitious, being 
 largely made up of advances to corporations 
 which the firm had not been obliged to make, and 
 for which it appeared that Mr. Gibbs had fur- 
 nished the funds, probably in anticipation of this 
 very result. Mr. Gibbs replied that there were 
 corporations that had to be carried, and it was 
 well for the reputation of the house of Prescott 
 & Co. that he had had the necessary funds. Mr. 
 Prescott said the object was evident, which was 
 to place the junior in a position to Use his capital 
 as a lever to push the senior out. His exterior 
 manner was calm ; but who can tell the sufferings 
 of such a man on the verge of his ruin? It did 
 not console him to think that by his own neglect,
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 211 
 
 and by leaving all affairs to the trusted junior, he 
 had brought this destruction upon himself. Even 
 at that late minute he looked for the sign of some 
 relenting, some touch of feeling in the face of 
 Gibbs. It was as bare of any remorseful expres- 
 sion as a vessel's wooden figure-head. In fact, 
 Mr. Gibbs was almost in a good-humor, almost 
 as complaisant as if he were at a wedding or 
 christening. He felt grateful, if at all, that Mr. 
 Prescott had accepted the situation, and was. 
 going to leave gracefully, instead of making a 
 scene. 
 
 The papers were brought out and signed. Mr. 
 Gibbs handed his old partner a check for an insig- 
 nificant amount, and bowed politely. 
 
 Mr. Prescott took the check, and, walking 
 slowly through the open space, paused, and gave 
 a cordial good-by to each clerk in turn. There is 
 a melancholy feeling, as Henry Crabb Robinson 
 says, when we think of doing any thing for the 
 last time. It was done. The house of Prescott 
 & Co. was no longer. Full of tumult within, and 
 with an almost broken heart, but with all the old 
 stately manner, Mr. Prescott left the warehouse. 
 
 The check was sufficient to pay his small bills. 
 He had his dwelling-house, the little property in 
 the country, and a lot of dubious copper stock. 
 
 But Mr. Gibbs had in a measure reckoned 
 without his host. The news of the senior's forced 
 retirement had got abroad : in fact, Gibbs had 
 boasted of the transaction at the club. "Busi-
 
 212 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 ness," however, was not quite what Amory had 
 denned it. There were some old-fashioned people 
 in the street who respected honor and the golden 
 rule, and who even had notions of gratitude ; and 
 among these the conduct of Gibbs was vigorously 
 denounced. A bank director came and talked to 
 Gibbs pointedly about it, to that great man's 
 extreme disgust. Even his set at the club gave 
 him more room than formerly. The clerks 
 gathered in knots, and whispered. The very por- 
 ters and the sweeper looked sidelong at him. 
 The preacher next Sunday, so Gibbs thought, was 
 aiming at him in a sermon he preached upon 
 commercial morality. And he remembered that 
 the lawyer who drew up the papers had asked 
 him impertinent questions. Gibbs was pachyder- 
 matous ; but in time missiles will go through even 
 the hide of an elephant. 
 
 But all this would have been nothing, if his 
 plans had been successful. It was with the ut- 
 most astonishment and rage, that, shortly after the 
 change, he read letters from treasurers of some of 
 the largest corporations, announcing, that as their 
 arrangements had been made with Prescott & Co., 
 without privilege of transfer, and that house had 
 ceased to exist, their goods would now go to a 
 rival selling-agent. More of the same kind of 
 letters came, until but two companies remained, 
 each of which was largely indebted to Gibbs for 
 money advanced on acceptances, and was there- 
 fore unable to change the account. Truly it was 
 a barren victory he had won.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 213 
 
 Mr. Prescott thought somewhat upon his pur- 
 chase of Corinthian stock, and queried whether an 
 absolute morality would justify the gaining pos- 
 session of shares while the seller had no informa- 
 tion, as he himself had, affecting their prospective 
 value. It was not a time for a ruined man to be 
 too nice, however; and, as he truly observed, if 
 every man is to disclose all he knows in making a 
 purchase, and to unfold his plans for making a 
 profit out of the transaction, where will business 
 go to? So he reasoned, somewhat obscuring the 
 clear communism of primitive Christianity, but 
 not guilty to himself of any falsehood or misrep- 
 resentation. The time has not come when Christi- 
 anity the abnegation of self can thrive in 
 Wall Street or State Street. Nor can any mer- 
 chant yet stand and prosper on the high moral 
 plane of Cicero's De Officiis. 
 
 The next day after Mr. Prescott had relin- 
 quished business, and while he was thinking what 
 he should do to escape stagnation and paraly- 
 sis, the long-expected letter from Amory came. 
 Where it had been straying it was useless to 
 inquire. It fully confirmed all he had heard, 
 and added many particulars. He sought out the 
 former secretary of the company, and got a list 
 of the stockholders. Calling upon some of these, 
 he found they had all disposed of their stock, and 
 to the same broker. He guessed immediately 
 what this meant. Amory had written on, and 
 taken up all that could be got ; so that he and
 
 214 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 Amory now held the whole, except, perhaps, some 
 fifty straggling shares. To manage the affairs of 
 an incorporated company under these circum- 
 stances would not be difficult. He engaged a 
 skilful mining engineer and chemist, and sent 
 him West without delay. He could now sit down 
 and wait for results. Letters came every few 
 days. The custodian of the mine had followed 
 Amory, and learned the results of his labors. 
 Interlopers had come with surveying instruments, 
 and hoped to find that some part of the coveted 
 copper mountain was outside the limits of the 
 Corinthian property, but in vain. The whole 
 peninsula was in a fever. Capitalists came, and 
 made tempting offers ; miners proffered their ser- 
 vices : but as Amory with shocking taste wrote 
 
 " I am monarch of all I survey, 
 
 My right there is none to dispute, 
 From the centre all round to the say 
 I am lord of the derrick and shute." 
 
 " This is better than rhyming advertisements for 
 Shaver's furniture or Macgregor's carpets : I am 
 even content to let the finishing of my poem on 
 the sparrows go till slack times." 
 
 " A wise little fool," said Mr. Prescott, with a 
 hearty laugh. " Now, when these shares go up to 
 180, I would like to meet Gibbs. I think I'll take 
 an office opposite to the old warehouse, and have 
 ' Corinthian' on a sign, in plain sight of his win- 
 dow, with letters two feet high."
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 215 
 
 Such a secret could not be kept long. Letters 
 from the upper lake region came to the news- 
 papers ; and the luck pf the Corinthian was in 
 every paragraph. Mr. Prescott held off till the 
 fever ran high, and until the reports of experts 
 settled the value of the mine. Then he sold for 
 himself and Amory enough shares to raise a work- 
 ing capital, and the operations began. The com- 
 pany was re-organized on a solid basis. Mr. Pres- 
 cott was president, and Amory superintendent, of 
 the mine. Leaving a clerk in charge of the office, 
 Mr. Prescott determined to return to Eaglemont 
 for a visit, taking Phoebe with him. During the 
 time he had been in the city he had been so 
 absorbed in business, first with regard to his 
 settlement with Gibbs, and afterwards while the 
 company was being re-organized, that he had 
 scarcely a moment to give to his darling Phoebe. 
 He had staid at a hotel, and given his undivided 
 attention to affairs. Now he was free : now he 
 would see her, and tell her of his good-fortune. 
 
 Should he ? It might turn her head. He con- 
 cluded to wait. It was Friday afternoon, and 
 there were two leisure days. Phoebe meanwhile, 
 on their way in the cars, was meditating how to 
 carry out a simple little plot of her own without 
 giving offence. After a variety of observations 
 upon matters of no consequence, this profound 
 dissembler began to ask her companion about his 
 business affairs. 
 
 " Aha ! " thought the old gentleman, " she thinks 
 I am poor. I will be sly."
 
 216 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 " You know," said the girl, " that Mr. Amory 
 wrote quite confidently rudely, perhaps about 
 the business with Mr. Gibbs. Is it really so ? 
 Was he such an ungrateful creature ? " 
 
 " The firm is dissolved," he replied. 
 
 " And did he really get all your money ? " 
 
 " He has the business, my dear, the business 
 that gave me my money." 
 
 " And you have no business now ? " 
 
 " None to speak of." 
 
 " But you haven't lost all ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ! I haven't lost you." 
 
 " But I should be only a burden I couldn't be 
 what you would call part of the assets. Oh, no ! 
 I am let me see yes I am a liability, am I 
 not?" 
 
 " You are liable to be curious, like all women, 
 big and little. I have my house in Boston, and 
 the little place on the hill ; and I am a young 
 man, young and active, open for an engagement, 
 with good recommendations from my last em- 
 ployer." 
 
 " I declare, it is a shame ! " said Phoebe, still 
 thinking of Gibbs. " But you sha'n't talk about 
 engagements, at your age. I am not going to 
 have you accept a salary." 
 
 " Oh, you aren't ! A proud puss you are ; but I 
 can work yet. And I'll not- put up with any 
 remarks upon my age." 
 
 " I will engage you." 
 
 Mr. Prescott laughed hilariously.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 217 
 
 She was blushing deeply, but, after a time, 
 turned a face towards him full of affection, but 
 with a look of embarrassment also. 
 
 "I mean it." 
 
 " You give me a salary ? " 
 
 "Perhaps we won't put it that way. Miss 
 Thorpe says I have a large legacy waiting for me, 
 as much as ten thousand pounds." 
 
 " Well ? " 
 
 " And somebody has to prove who I am, and to 
 get the money, and manage it for me. And I don't 
 want any, at least, I don't want much, as I 
 am teaching this year, and earn my own living. 
 I couldn't spend but little of the income. And 
 I mean to give you all the rest of it, for taking 
 care of me." 
 
 "Confound the girl!" he. thought. "She's 
 fairly got ahead of me." He had some Corinthian 
 shares then in his pocket, made out in her name. 
 
 " So you will give me your income for taking 
 care of it ? Trustees and agents do sometimes 
 manage in that way ; but I shouldn't know how." 
 
 " But I want it so, and I will have it so." 
 
 " You have the right to be peremptory all 
 beautiful young women have ; and we men always 
 submit." 
 
 " You ought to think how I feel to see you 
 losing your business, and knowing all you have 
 done for me for so many years. And it isn't 
 right nor generous of you to deny me, and to 
 make fun. I don't want the legacy, unless I can
 
 218 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 do as I choose with it. And sha'n't we all share 
 together? And it won't be that you are under 
 any obligation : each one puts in what he has, 
 that is all." 
 
 " What a glorious partner you would be for 
 some fine fellow! But that kind of business 
 wouldn't be safe with Gibbs." 
 
 "We aren't talking of selfish people without 
 souls." 
 
 " No, my dear girl, evidently not. Your soul is 
 in your eyes, in your voice, and in your actions ; 
 and I should be a brute to make you unhappy for 
 a moment. I will drop nonsense. Your generos- 
 ity is not any surprise to me : I have seen it from 
 the time of your pinafores and bibs. You are 
 just a lump of goodness, and a pretty substantial 
 lump too. If I need any money, and you have 
 more income than you want, I sha'n't hesitate to 
 accept your offer. By the Lord, what a noble 
 girl ! " he added involuntarily, and half aloud. 
 
 Phoebe placed her hand in his, but said nothing 
 further. 
 
 "And now," said Mr. Prescott, taking out of 
 his pocket the stock certificates on which her 
 name was written in his own clear and beautiful 
 hand, " as you have shown your hand, or heart 
 I should say I will show mine. It isn't yet posi- 
 tively sure ; but I presume these shares are worth 
 a great deal of money, and will yield you twice 
 as much income as your legacy. You see your 
 name. I was planning a little surprise ; but you
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 219 
 
 got the start of me, and now I have to come in 
 second." 
 
 " Then you are not poor ! " 
 
 " I hope not : in fact, it looks quite otherwise." 
 
 "Then I care for nothing more. Of course I 
 am a thousand times obliged for your goodness ; 
 but for myself I don't care a pin. That you and 
 aunt Prescott are comfortable is enough more 
 than enough. It is glorious ! " 
 
 "But you needn't despise the shares. Some 
 fine fellow will be glad to get the income on them. 
 I wonder who it will be. I am selfish enough to 
 hope that he will not come along just yet. I 
 don't want to part with you, not even for your 
 happiness." 
 
 " That is past," said Phoebe solemnly. " I shall 
 teach, and shall remain in Boston." 
 
 " The deuse ! " thought he. " What a sigh that 
 was ! from the very bottom of her heart. I 
 wonder which of the two runaways it is, my 
 stepson, or my nephew? Roderick may live to 
 come back ; and, if he does win her, he is a lucky 
 dog. But Robert, away in some country of fevers 
 and cannibals, or cholera and earthquakes that 
 is a bourn from which no missionary ever returns."
 
 220 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 MRS. PKESCOTT with Mary, in a basket phaeton, 
 had been taking the circuit of the mountain, a 
 pleasant drive of some five or six miles, when the 
 train arrived. She saw her husband and Phoebe 
 get off, and waited for them. Mr. Prescott gave 
 up Phoebe to his wife's charge, and got a convey- 
 ance for himself and Mary. 
 
 The manner in which the aunt and niece met 
 was characteristic. Phoebe came impetuously up 
 to the phaeton, and offered to kiss her aunt ; while 
 the latter calmly bent over, and received the salute 
 on her cheek. " To think that you are my aunt, 
 after all ! It seems like a story. You couldn't 
 have been kinder, though, if .you had known it 
 from the beginning." This was uttered in short 
 little sallies and with touching emotion. 
 
 " I might have known you were brother Roder- 
 ick's child, you are so impulsive ! " was the reply. 
 " Come, step in, my dear. You will disarrange 
 my collar." 
 
 Phoebe was hurt. It was incredible to her that 
 her aunt could be so composed, if not actually cool. 
 She did not know, that, with her aunt, the weather- 
 gauge was connected with her absent son. When-
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 221 
 
 ever she was anxious about him, then Phosbe was 
 remembered as the cause of his going into danger. 
 She had just received a letter from him, dated 
 from the vicinity of a great battle-field. His regi- 
 ment had suffered terribly, both in officers and 
 men, and he was now promoted to the rank of lieu- 
 tenant-colonel. He had been slightly wounded, a 
 flesh wound he said, a mere scratch. Mrs. Pres- 
 cott told Phoebe of this as they rode up the long 
 hill ; and it seemed to the girl that she took a pleas- 
 ure in dwelling upon all the painful aspects of the 
 situation, and kept making observations that stung 
 her like brushes from a bunch of nettles. She did 
 not offer to read the letter, but said that Roderick 
 wished to be affectionately remembered to a cer- 
 tain young lady ; that, if he lived, he should return 
 to claim her ; and, if he died, it would be with her 
 name on his lips. Even the ideal picture was too 
 much for the mother. She sobbed before she fin- 
 ished the sentence, and of course Pho3be sobbed 
 too ; and they reached the house both crying, while 
 Mr. Prescott and Mary were waiting for them in 
 blank surprise. 
 
 Phcebe began to see, that, while Roderick was 
 away, she could have no peace with her aunt. 
 Often she had thought, when bearing these im- 
 plied or open reproaches, that in self-defence she 
 would let the mother know what she had experi- 
 enced from this darling son of hers. But then 
 she reflected that he might fall, and she did not 
 wish to leave a stain on his memory in the moth-
 
 222 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 er's heart. Besides, he had repented, as she be- 
 lieved, in sincerity. So she could not show to the 
 mother what were her feelings towards him. The 
 time and circumstances had not come to show 
 even to herself what her feelings were. 
 
 Mary was persuaded by her uncle to stay to tea. 
 In such stormy weather he wanted to see one sun- 
 shiny face. Uncle and niece set themselves to 
 cheer up the sorrowing ones, and before long the 
 tears were dried. 
 
 Mr. Prescott had been talking with Mary about 
 Amory's operations, and after tea the subject was 
 resumed. This brought to mind Mrs. Prescott's 
 other great grief, the loss of property and position. 
 She inquired about the settlement with Mr. Gibbs, 
 and commented upon it with an asperity that 
 Pho3be had never observed before. The tone of 
 her mind was sombre. Every object took a shade 
 from the prevailing gloom. The eclipse of cheer- 
 fulness continued until Mr. Prescott became des- 
 perate. 
 
 "Why, Eleanor!" he exclaimed "I am sorry 
 for you, and more sorry for these young girls, 
 whom you are making wretched with your glum 
 looks. You will give Phoebe a fine specimen of 
 the delights of home : you will make her sorry 
 for the new-found relationship." 
 
 "I don't see much to be cheerful about," she 
 answered. " With Roderick away, and in danger 
 all the time, and with poverty before us in our old 
 age, I can't pretend to be light-hearted."
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 223 
 
 " Have you heard from Roderick ? " 
 
 She repeated in a melancholy tone the news she 
 had just told Phoebe, omitting the little message. 
 
 " A lieutenant-colonel, is he ? I don't see any 
 thing very sad about that. And as for our pov- 
 erty I have had an offer of salary." (Here he 
 gave a sly glance at Phoebe.) 
 
 " A salary, indeed ! I should think that was a 
 fine thing for a merchant, and the head of an old 
 house, to boast of." 
 
 " Oh I but I haven't accepted the salary yet. I 
 am taking it under consideration. Something 
 better may turn up." 
 
 " Don't talk of things ' turning up,' Mr. Pres- 
 cott. That person Micawber, if that was his 
 name, in Dickens's vulgar story, has made the 
 expression odious. I hope you don't mean that 
 you are looking out for the air-castles that Amory 
 is building ! He is an enthusiast, a silly I for- 
 get, Mary : I don't wish to underrate your friend, 
 who, I presume, is honest and sincere, but so 
 flighty and unpractical, you know, like all persons 
 with a poetical turn." 
 
 " Come, now, don't be disagreeable. Amory 
 has given practical proof of his good sense. The 
 mine is a fact, a gigantic fact. 
 
 " I am sure Mr. Amory is entirely too gener- 
 ous," said Mary, "to make ill-natured observa- 
 tions about others in their absence, and I should 
 think that he might be spared, especially as he is 
 so devoted to his friends."
 
 224 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 " Well done ! " said Mr. Prescott, " I like that. 
 Nothing is so common as to sit and listen to de- 
 traction of the absent. I admire your courage, 
 Mary. But now, Eleanor, can't we drive away 
 that black cloud 9 I won't boast, and I don't 
 want a word repeated ; but I consider I am worth 
 more to-day than I ever was, and certainly my 
 income will be double. If poverty is your bug- 
 bear, you can smile at your fears. You will have 
 everjr thing you want." 
 
 " Then we can go back to town ? " 
 
 " Yes, when the season is over. I want to enjoy 
 the country a while, now we are here." 
 
 Mrs. Prescott's spirits rose momently. She 
 would have seriously preferred death to banish- 
 ment from her fashionable society, from her 
 church, and from the Plato Club. Visions of 
 future glories came with the thought of re-estab- 
 lished fortune. 
 
 " Don't you think, my dear," she said, after a 
 moment's reflection, "that, now we have our old 
 faded furniture up here, we should get new things 
 for our house in town? The house itself has 
 needed some touches a good while. I should hope 
 we might have new carpets, sofas, chairs, and fau- 
 teuils, some larger mirrors, some electric bells to 
 call the servants, some new bookcases. The 
 books, too, ought to be rebound : the leather is 
 worn, and the gilding faded. And our conserva- 
 tory is so small ! just room for about two dozen 
 plants. I would like a stately dome of glass, and
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 225 
 
 some rare tropical plants with long feathery 
 leaves. It would give such a vista to the draw- 
 ing-room ! " 
 
 Mr. Prescott was exchanging amused glances 
 with Phoebe. She went on : 
 
 " And our carriage is quite old and musty. The 
 horses, too, have lost the step. They should be 
 exchanged for a younger pair with a more pro- 
 nounced gait. The oratory should be repainted, 
 and a picture or two put in it: some saint or 
 madonna would be so pretty in the recess back of 
 the candles ! I am tired of those old servants : 
 they are getting stupid. I should like an English 
 coachman, in a handsome livery, and an indoor 
 man that is au fait with modern usages. Of 
 course, we will have a new door and doorway in 
 black walnut, made from an original design. The 
 old black door, and the great silver plate, and the 
 staring number, are old-fashioned and common. 
 I haven't spoken of dress ; but I haven't had a new 
 costume for a twelvemonth ; and Phoebe, there, is 
 dressed like a nun. We shall have to receive on 
 a stated day, and must have a list of our callers 
 in the ' Reporter.' The Plato Club receptions are 
 always printed, you know; and it looks well to 
 see the names of poets and judges and clergymen, 
 and other beaux esprits, as your friends." 
 
 " Is there any thing more, Eleanor ? Haven't 
 you forgotten something ? " 
 
 u I haven't asked for any thing unreasonable, 
 have I ? In a certain position in life we have
 
 226 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 certain duties. I feel that we owe something to 
 society, and I don't wish to shrink from any sac- 
 rifice." 
 
 The sacrifices that society demands are always 
 made Jieroically. 
 
 "What do you think, Phoebe?" asked Mr. 
 Prescott. 
 
 " I don't think, uncle. I am not to pass judg- 
 ment on aunt's plans. It all sounds very fine. 
 If aunt wants it, and you can afford it, I should be 
 glad for her sake. The house as it is, is very dear 
 to me. It has a look of comfort, and seems to fit 
 you both, as if it had been made for you." 
 
 Phoebe was fated that day to ruffle her aunt's 
 temper at every turn. It was a perfectly honest 
 reply she had made, but, like most honest speeches, 
 it was not guarded and discreet : it conveyed a 
 censure, and the lady was wroth. Then she 
 thought of Roderick again ; and, between the two 
 causes of irritation, she managed to keep herself 
 pretty constantly unhappy. 
 
 After tea Phoebe took the phaeton, and drove 
 Mary home. She at first hoped Mary would ask 
 her to stay ; but then she reflected that she might 
 have to endure a solemn woman in place of an 
 irritable one, and she wisely returned to her 
 uncle's, after chatting a while with Mary and her 
 father at the door. She began to sigh for the 
 serene atmosphere of Miss Thorpe's home, and 
 wished she had a pretext for returning there. 
 Her aunt had developed traits unsuspected before.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 227 
 
 In prosperity she had been often gracious, suave, 
 and delightful ; but she could not bear adversity. 
 She had no power to adapt herself to circum- 
 stances. Self-denial in regard to luxuries was 
 something she had never contemplated. Phoebe, 
 like all fresh young people, enjoyed society, music, 
 and dancing, and could take her share of Fortune's 
 favors equably ; but she could also have resigned 
 herself to the seclusion of a farmhouse, if it had 
 been necessary, and would have been happy there 
 with the uncle in whose feelings and tastes she 
 sympathized. 
 
 The next day rose clear and bright. Once 
 more, by the favor of uncle Solomon, the colt 
 was harnessed to the elliptic-spring wagon, and 
 the two girls made the tour of the country. The 
 glory of the summer was gone, but Phrebe thought 
 the russet-brown of the pastures even finer in tone 
 than the green had been. The highest prospect, 
 too, was more soft and alluring. The summits of 
 the far hills, seen through long stretches of val- 
 leys, seemed to be sparkling with powdered gold. 
 The blue smokes rose straight upwards from 
 the farmhouses, mere specks of white or red, 
 recognized chiefly by the checker-board lines of 
 orchards near them and by the long-backed roofs 
 of the ash-colored barns. 
 
 Then returning, when they had descended half 
 way, they hitched the horse by the roadside, and 
 plunged into the woods, following the course of a 
 stream that went tinkling over the ledges, and
 
 228 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 freshening a series of pools that kept the autumn 
 grass green. At length they came to the place 
 for which the experienced country-girl had been 
 seeking, the beds of those exquisite ferns which 
 rustics and poets call maiden's-hair. With arms 
 full of the long and tangled vines, they returned 
 to the wagon, and went on their way again. 
 
 When quite near the town, a figure came into 
 the middle of the road as if to stop their horse. 
 Phrebe gave a sharp scream ; but Mary only 
 breathed shorter, and exclaimed, "Percival Amory ! 
 where have you come from? and why do you 
 scare us to death? and we driving the colt too ! " 
 
 It was the sturdy and happy little man surely. 
 
 "Aren't you going to get out?" he asked 
 cheerily, "or shall I get in ? Miss Miss Phoebe, 
 I am delighted to see you." 
 
 Reaching his hand to Mary, she stepped on the 
 wheel, whereupon he caught and landed her by 
 the road-side in some way, although the particu- 
 ulars of the descent are difficult to describe in set 
 phrase. This being accomplished, not heeding 
 the presence of the other, he bestowed a rousing 
 kiss upon Mary's pretty mouth. She resisted, to 
 be sure, and said, " For shame ! " which Amory did 
 not seem to hear. He only observed that now he 
 had fulfilled a solemn vow that he had made when 
 he left Ontonagon. He had vowed, he said, to 
 kiss the first girl who gave him her hand to de- 
 scend from a wagon. Then it occurred to him 
 that the whole affair was a little absurd ; and he
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 229 
 
 proposed that Mary should get in again, where- 
 upon all three laughed helplessly. " Ride with 
 us," said Mary. 
 
 " On one seat ? Three of us ? Oh, no ! " 
 "But father rides with us. See!" And she 
 pulled a drawer from under the seat, that afforded 
 a small resting-place for the driver. Behold now 
 the happy Ainory, between two of the handsomest 
 women in the world, driving through the curious 
 village, and up to the old hill. He was not, on this 
 occasion, 
 
 " A sweetly unobtrusive third." 
 
 In fact, he was a dominating presence, full of spirits 
 and of no end of talk, and he entirely frustrated 
 the plans of Mary. That artful girl had been en- 
 deavoring to learn what were Phoebe's real feelings 
 towards her brother, the absent Robert. At the 
 very moment when Amory appeared in the road, 
 she had been leading to a test question with great 
 care. She was just going to ask Phoebe plumply, 
 " Would you have loved and married Robert if 
 he had not been a minister and a missionary?" 
 Phoebe divined the approaches of the good and 
 simple-hearted sister, and was unutterably pained. 
 The road she had travelled with Robert was 
 full of thorns, and not to be passed over again. 
 Amory was now her welcome shield. She plied 
 him with questions, and he was only too happy to 
 talk. The Corinthian was a fixed fact. Cheops 
 wasn't more solid; nor was Cyprus or Corinth
 
 230 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 more more coppery. The mine would supply 
 the universe. For himself, he should never be 
 happy until he had done two things, first, kicked 
 Gibbs ; second, ridden down State Street in a 
 coach, with a foot out of each window. Then 
 looking at Mary, and recollecting that there was 
 no mention of her in the two things he most 
 desired, he added, " These are the things I wish 
 to do after a certain auspicious event." 
 
 As to his poetic effusions, Amory was not very 
 hopeful. The Western air had not stimulated his 
 genius as he expected. The projected poem upon 
 the sparrows was still " on the stocks." 
 
 The coming of Amory was a surprise to the 
 two families on the hill ; but all were glad to see 
 the brave and cheerful man who had accomplished 
 so much. With the one Prescott he had long 
 and satisfactory talks about the mine : with the 
 other, we may fairly suppose that a matter no less 
 important was discussed, and with a similar pleas- 
 ing result. 
 
 As our story is about to pass over a considerable 
 interval, it may be proper to make a summary of 
 lesser events. 
 
 Amory was soon announced as the accepted 
 lover of Mary Prescott, and, having left a substi- 
 tute at the mine, proposed to spend the winter at 
 the East. 
 
 The city residence of Mr. and Mrs. Hugh Pres- 
 cott was improved and beautified, though not 
 upon the magnificent scale proposed by its ambi-
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 231 
 
 tious mistress. They returned to the city in the 
 early autumn. 
 
 The scanty evidence bearing upon the parentage 
 of Phoebe was put in due form, and forwarded ; 
 but it was agreed that the affair should be kept 
 secret until the claim was acknowledged by Ralph 
 Manning, the head of the family. 
 
 Roderick was heard from less frequently ; but 
 it was announced that he was acting colonel of 
 the regiment. 
 
 Phoebe returned to the city on the next Mon- 
 day, and thenceforth kept steadily on her course, 
 teaching and reading, spending only her Sundays 
 in town. 
 
 Robert Prescott made no sign. Whether he 
 was among Afric's sunny fountains, or on India's 
 coral strand, no one knew. Aunt Zeruiah's rigid 
 sternness gave way: she softened and wept, a 
 pitiable sight, at which uncle Solomon was accus- 
 tomed to take refuge with his cattle in the barn, 
 finding some consolation in their mute faces.
 
 232 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THIS was the summer of battles. The awful 
 struggle of Gettysburg, protracted for three days, 
 with varying fortunes, had sent new thrills through 
 the land. Almost as vast as a war of the ele- 
 ments, the commotion, spread through the air, and 
 the cannon seemed to reverberate from prairie to 
 ocean. The fierce engagement at Chancellorsville, 
 the siege of Charleston, the terrible carnage at 
 Chattanooga, the capture of Vicksburg, and scores 
 of less famous conflicts, filled all the dreary year. 
 Men's hearts began to fail them ; and the future 
 had nothing but gloom. 
 
 Winter was coming ; and the pressing needs of 
 the soldiers in camps and hospitals were upper- 
 most in the thoughts of all generous minds. 
 
 The patriotic women belonging to the society 
 auxiliary to the Sanitary Commission had projected 
 a concert to raise funds. It was to be given in a 
 large hall, but was to be in a manner private, as 
 the tickets were to be disposed of by the members 
 and their friends ; and there was to be no publicity 
 given to the performances. It was expected in 
 this way to secure the aid of many brilliant ama- 
 teur players and singers, and to sell the tickets at 
 high prices.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 233 
 
 Naturally they waited upon Signer Belvedere 
 to obtain his co-operation. He cheerfully assented, 
 and promised to use his influence with his pupils. 
 He made out a list of names, of which Phoebe's 
 was first, and, at the request of the ladies, went 
 to see Miss Thorpe and Mrs. Prescott, to get 
 their consent for her appearance. Miss Thorpe 
 was an active member of the society, and, in fact, 
 was giving her whole time to its interests. For 
 almost any other purpose she would have refused 
 her consent for Phoebe to appear in public, even 
 in this semi-private fashion. She hated the stage, 
 especially the opera. She dreaded the influence 
 of excitement and applause upon Phoebe's sus- 
 ceptible soul. She was determined that Phoebe 
 should have no incitement to follow a public 
 career. It was only after repeated conversations 
 that she gave a reluctant consent. Phoebe, who 
 had begun her career as teacher, was overjoyed, 
 and on Saturdays made preparations for the con- 
 cert. She was to sing an elaborate cavatina and 
 a'ballad in the first part of the programme. The 
 second part was to consist of an operatic burlesque 
 in Italian : iffe authorship was an open secret. It 
 was printed anonymously, but was known to be 
 written by a well-known professor, and was 
 adapted with exquisite skill to the most striking 
 musical selections from a number of famous 
 operas. There was a chorus of students, and 
 three or four characters in costume ; and the gran- 
 diose music, joined to the elaborate nonsense of the
 
 234 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 libretto, made it one of the most amusing trifles 
 ever presented on the stage. The nature of 
 Phrebe was wholly averse to burlesque. She 
 could have made nothing of it ; and her feelings 
 had become so serious that any trifling was a pain 
 to her. As the weeks went by, Miss Thorpe no- 
 ticed with ever-increasing anxiety how Phoebe's 
 expression was changing. Her cheeks lost their 
 rosy flush ; lines of thought began to be apparent ; 
 and, above all, her eyes were no longer sparkling 
 and changing in hue and expression as she spoke. 
 She looked like one gazing into distance, even 
 into another sphere. There was a fixedness in 
 her looks that was almost like the beginning of 
 insanity. Miss Thorpe would then have dis- 
 suaded her from taking any part in the concert, 
 but it was too late : Phcebe was immovable. So 
 she went weekly to Signer Belvedere's rooms, and 
 practised her exercises and songs, singing with an 
 undreamed-of power and intensity, but looking 
 the picture of settled melancholy. 
 
 The time wore away, and the day for the con- 
 cert came. The hall was completely filled by an 
 audience distinguished for wealth an% social emi- 
 nence. Signor Belvedere was conspicuous in the 
 front row, seated with a party of his country men 
 and women, members of an opera troupe tempora- 
 rily in Boston on a vacation. He looked around 
 the house with an air of triumph, as if to say, 
 " This is my pupil you have come to hear. The 
 voice is one I have formed. The grand manner
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 235 
 
 of Pasta and Malibran lives again in a girl whose 
 ancestry not one of you knows. The beauty you 
 are to dote upon, however, belongs to my coun- 
 try." He could not sit still, but chatted and ges- 
 tured with unceasing vivacity, returning the bows 
 of pupils and musical friends. 
 
 At length the curtain was raised. The concert 
 began with a piano solo by a professional artist; 
 then followed one of Signor Belvedere's pupils, 
 whose brilliant performance of Rode's Variations 
 Phoebe had once heard while waiting for her 
 lesson. A fine bass singer with a slight German 
 accent next came, with a dramatic rendering of 
 Schumann's " Two Grenadiers." It was now 
 Phoebe's turn. As she came forward, there was 
 a sudden stir throughout the hall. She was 
 known to but few persons, even by sight, and 
 had never sung except in Mrs. Prescott's parlor, 
 or when taking a lesson. But her youth and 
 resplendent beauty, her dignified, statuesque atti- 
 tude, the simplicity of her costume, and the sweet, 
 melancholy expression of her eyes, captivated 
 every one. Women, as well as men, felt the 
 fascination of her presence, and applauded, almost 
 with tears of admiration, as she came forward. 
 " See ! " whispered Signor Belvedere, in Italian, 
 to the prima donna beside him. " What a figure ! 
 Grand Dio ! what a soul in those eyes ! What a 
 presence for the lyric stage ! Observe that beau- 
 tiful hand ; not a ring to mar the symmetry of 
 those lovely fingers ! Not a barbaric hoop, either,
 
 236 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 in those ears of pink shell ! All in white, rich 
 as silk can be, but pure white, only those tea-rose 
 buds at her neck. Corpo di Bacco ! what a neck ! 
 An ivory column for the queenly head! And 
 those glossy masses of hair, worthy to shade the 
 brows of alma Venus herself! " 
 
 Mrs. Prescott was present, surrounded by a 
 large party. 
 
 Miss Thorpe, who never attended concerts, nat- 
 urally made an exception in this case, and sat near 
 the front, but at one side, near the entrance to 
 the stage. 
 
 The chords were given, and the cavatina began. 
 Knowing how her severe master had been affected 
 by her singing, it would be useless to attempt any 
 description of 'the impression made upon this 
 musically cultivated audience. Critics listened in 
 vain to find the least point of objection. The 
 voice was melody itself. The expression was 
 dictated by the purest taste, and enlivened by 
 dramatic power ; and, as if by instinct, her slight- 
 est movements were in harmony with the senti- 
 ment. It was her first venture, and yet it was 
 as if she had trod the stage all her life. So it 
 seemed to the audience ; but the case was far 
 different in the heart of the singer. As she re- 
 called her sensations afterwards, she felt like the 
 somnambulist walking over the perilous mill-race, 
 while the tones of her voice sounded as if made 
 by another, and heard afar in a dream. Her 
 smiles were the automatic expression of the feel-
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 237 
 
 ings that possessed her. Her artistic style of sing- 
 ing had become a second nature, so that she had 
 but to open her mouth. It was a magnificent 
 success ; but she felt that it was the result of 
 causes wholly apart from her volition. 
 
 As she ceased, the applause was long and loud, 
 and a repetition seemed to be imperatively de- 
 manded. But Phoebe felt unequal to the task, 
 and, after bowing her acknowledgments, was retir- 
 ing, when the recall arose in louder tones, and she 
 hesitated. She beckoned to the accompanist, and 
 prepared to sing the ballad. She could not wait 
 and appear again : it must be done on the instant 
 for she felt the strain on her nerves was too 
 intense to be borne. The audience cheered as she 
 came forward, and she took her place at the side 
 of the piano. 
 
 The ballad was the well-known " Robin Adair," 
 a piece of genuine poetic merit, set to one of 
 the finest of old Celtic melodies : 
 
 Welcome on shore again, 
 
 Robin Adair! 
 Welcome once more again, 
 
 Robin Adair ! 
 I feel thy trembling hand : 
 Tears in thy eyelids stand, 
 To greet thy native land, 
 
 Robin Adair 1 
 
 Come to my heart again, 
 
 Robin Adair ! 
 Never to part again, 
 
 Robin Adair !
 
 238 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 And, if thou still art true, 
 I will be constant too, 
 And will wed none but you, 
 Robin Adair! 
 
 Now a strange scene was enacted. The expres- 
 sion of Phoebe's face became wonderfully pathetic. 
 Her voice alternately melted and thrilled the 
 heart. The story of the ballad became a living 
 reality, as when Rachel revived a classic tragedy. 
 The tones became like a pain, and the action rose 
 to the sublime. Before the last line was con- 
 cluded, the audience rose half way, and leaned 
 forward, and some stood on their feet, a tempestu- 
 ous crowd, excited almost to frenzy. With the 
 final note the curtain fell, and it was some minutes 
 before quiet was restored. It was then announced 
 that the singer must be excused, being too much 
 indisposed to appear again. 
 
 The burlesque was then performed with im- 
 mense success, and the performance ended. 
 
 But the first part of the performance had 
 another and unexpected issue. When the cur- 
 tain fell upon Phoebe's song, she had stepped 
 back, deadly pale, and with a strange look, as if 
 beholding some sight of horror. The next mo- 
 ment she was prostrate on the floor, without sense 
 or motion. Luckily the performers that were to 
 take part in the burlesque were in a room apart. 
 The manager for the evening, with singular pres- 
 ence of mind, called the accompanist, and they
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 239 
 
 two carried her away to a side-room without a 
 word. A carriage was procured, Miss Thorpe 
 was cautiously beckoned out, and the still uncon- 
 scious girl was carried home. A physician was 
 summoned, and every expedient was resorted to 
 for her restoration. By midnight she moved and 
 moaned, although her eyes remained closed. At 
 daybreak she looked about, and spoke ; but her 
 utterances were " like sweet bells jangled out of 
 tune." A slow nervous fever was predicted, a 
 disease that would test the strength of her consti- 
 tution, and would require the utmost patience of 
 nurses and attendants. 
 
 Miss Thorpe had not anticipated such a result ; 
 but she had long observed Phoebe's increasing 
 susceptibility, her eager movements and smileless 
 looks. She had drawn certain conclusions as to 
 the girl's feelings towards the absent Roderick 
 and to his unhappy mother, and she believed she 
 saw in the irritation that had been produced by 
 that mother's reproaches constantly acting upon 
 a sensitive nature a sufficient cause for the attack ; 
 for Phoebe professed that her labors as a teacher 
 were not beyond her strength. Miss Thorpe 
 meditated upon this, and determined to acquaint 
 Mrs. Prescott in as delicate a way as possible with 
 the facts, and to beg her not to come into Phoebe's 
 presence until the morbid excitement had sub- 
 sided. 
 
 She reasoned well, but did not act promptly 
 enough. " 111 news," they say, " flies fast." Mrs.
 
 240 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 Prescott was not long in hearing of Phoebe's sud- 
 den and alarming illness, and came at once to see 
 her. Miss Thorpe was absent for the moment; 
 and the visitor brushed past the servant, and 
 entered the chamber where Phoebe lay. Mrs. 
 Prescott came towards the bedside, and reached 
 out her hand. The poor girl beheld her with 
 wildly staring eyes, and exclaimed, " I did not do 
 it ; ask him. He is not dead ; no, only he limps. 
 His head is bound up, his arm in a sling. But 
 he was good to me at last not always. Any 
 young man may love his mother ; the mother 
 doesn't know nor Polonius. But he is good 
 now. He wants me to love him: perhaps I shall. 
 I am Ophelia ; but I can't find any flowers for a 
 garland, so I must wait here. I have no brother 
 to fight for me." 
 
 Mrs. Prescott was so shocked, that she could 
 neither speak nor move. Phcebe would not take 
 her hand, and by every tone and gesture repelled 
 her advances. 
 
 At this point Miss Thorpe entered, and compre- 
 hended what was passing. She stepped lightly 
 between her visitor and the bed ; and, while she 
 smoothed Phoebe's brow with one hand, she made 
 a warning sign to the visitor with the other. Still 
 covering Mrs. Prescott from Phoebe's sight, she 
 pointed towards the door, and then followed the 
 astonished woman out. As the} r talked in low 
 tones in the passage-way, Phoebe's voice came in 
 plaintive, fragmentary sentences, fragments of
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 241 
 
 speech and wild strains of song, with merry little 
 laughs and melancholy interjections. Mrs. Pres- 
 cott wept as she listened. Miss Thorpe was kind 
 enough to suppress much of what she thought, and 
 only suggested, that, in certain states of aberration 
 of mind, the nearest friends are objects of the 
 strongest dislike. 
 
 Mrs. Prescott was greatly overcome, but soon, 
 remembering that the girl needed Miss Thorpe's 
 constant attention, she reluctantly went home. 
 She had a glimpse of the truth, and it was sad 
 enough : to have known the whole would have 
 been more than she could bear. She saw that she 
 must resign Phcebe wholly to Miss Thorpe's care. 
 Imagine the thrill she experienced, with 
 Phoebe's incoherent sentences still sounding in 
 her ears, when, on reaching home, she opened a 
 letter just come from her Roderick, in which he 
 mentioned that he had been injured by the explo- 
 sion of a shell, and was suffering from a bruise on 
 his foot, a contusion on his head, and a sprained 
 wrist. There was reason, then, for his limp, for 
 his bandaged head, and his suspended arm.
 
 242 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 THE physician was a wise and observant man, 
 a phenomenon by no means so rare in our day as 
 formerly. When Miss Thorpe described Phoebe's 
 conduct on seeing her aunt, and told of her 
 half droll, half pathetic sayings during the night, 
 he only advised perfect quiet and seclusion. 
 Opiates or nerve-soothing medicines, he said, 
 might, in the end, reduce her strength enough to 
 counterbalance all that was gained. If she wished 
 to talk, she must not be prevented, only gently 
 led, like a child, to pleasant views of things. So 
 during the long day the poor girl uttered discon- 
 nected phrases, mingling her varied experiences 
 till all the threads of the warp and woof of her 
 life were inwoven into the strangest though often 
 the most affecting figures. 
 
 It was a case of exaltation, of strong nervous 
 excitement, not of dementia. In many respects 
 she was at intervals almost perfectly sensible. 
 The chief peculiarity was the presence of visions 
 of the absent. She mentioned no names, but 
 related adventures as if she were actually behold- 
 ing them. She narrated an officer's escape one 
 day with wonderful spirit :
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 243 
 
 " It is a deep-chested, powerful horse ; his head 
 is held low, and thrust forward ; the nostrils are 
 distended; and I see the muscles of his thighs 
 play under the glossy skin. The rider does not 
 spur : no, the noble animal needs no spur. The 
 rider leans forward, pats his neck lovingly, and 
 the horse makes leaps like a flying creature. The 
 rider is one : the pursuers are many, and are clat- 
 tering close behind. There ! there ! THERE ! 
 Their pistols flash ; but the horseman does not 
 stop, nor look back. Oh, how the horse pants 
 along the white dusty road up that long hill ! 
 How the enemy come yelling on behind! 
 
 "Now there is an open stretch. A few miles 
 more, good horse ! The distance from the pursu- 
 ers increases. They feel it, and again, flash, flash ! 
 go their pistols, while their baffled rage is heard 
 in their despairing cries. Still on goes the noble 
 horse, and now he dashes past the friendly pickets. 
 How they cheer ! Glory to God ! He is safe. The 
 squadron of cavalry posted near now rides for- 
 ward. The order is to charge. Away they gallop. 
 The pursuing enemy wheel, and ride back, but not 
 till some saddles are empty. Friends welcome 
 the brave man, and they praise the noble and en- 
 during horse. The horse shall never be put in 
 peril again. He shall feed in green pastures 
 henceforth." 
 
 At another time her mind was far away, fixed 
 upon a strange scene. The scene grew into an 
 act, and the act was protracted into a drama that
 
 244 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 lasted many days. This may serve for a sum- 
 mary of the sentences and ejaculations that came 
 at intervals : 
 
 "Immense, gloomy forests, hung with mossy 
 beards filled with thick undergrowth and tangled 
 vines, spread on every side. The ground is damp, 
 and the stagnant pools are mantled with green. 
 Strange bright birds are in the boughs. At night 
 there are whippoorwills ; mocking-birds sing all 
 day ; while serpents, lizards, and lazy alligators 
 lurk among the dark bushes, or glide along the 
 dull water-courses." 
 
 " Pressing through briers and bushes, I see a 
 man in the wretched fragments of a uniform. 
 His face is sunburned and anxious ; his hands 
 are scratched ; there are blood-stains showing 
 through the torn clothes. The man reaches the 
 bank of a large river. Screened from view, he 
 waits till the sun goes down and the stars rise : 
 and now he looks that he may know the points of 
 the compass. He is so hungry that he could even 
 eat a reptile if he could catch one. But he finds 
 a log, and he rolls it into the water : he takes a 
 smaller piece of wood that is to serve him for 
 a paddle, and, if necessary, for a weapon. Astride 
 the log, he floats mid-stream, holding his course 
 with the rude paddle, and keeping .watch for alli- 
 gators. All night he floats, until now the stars 
 begin to fade. Further progress is dangerous. 
 How he watches the banks ! He sees a faint blue 
 smoke : it rises from a cabin, a mere heap of
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 245 
 
 blackened logs on the bank. He reconnoitres. A 
 negro comes out. How the lonely voyager blesses 
 God for the sight of that black face ! The negro 
 has a gun ; he raises it, and stands in position. 
 ' A friend ! ' cries the wretched and famished 
 soldier, showing some remains of his uniform. 
 The gun is dropped, and the soldier is welcomed. 
 His log is shoved ashore. A few sweet-potatoes 
 roasted in the embers make the most delicious 
 breakfast the soldier ever ate. But the cabin 
 is a dangerous place for a loiterer. Up in a full- 
 topped tree, out of sight of his friend, the soldier 
 climbs, and passes the long day, longing for the 
 night. With a few potatoes, he sets out again 
 under cover of darkness, floating towards the sea. 
 The next day he finds another cabin ; he espies 
 another black man : they are always friendly to 
 his colors. But does he trust his friends ? No, I 
 see he does not : the risk is too great. He eats 
 the potatoes, or, it may be the bit of hard corn- 
 bread, and, having given his thanks, withdraws to 
 his fastness, his watch-tower in a tree-top, unseen 
 of any. Only God looks down upon him, and the 
 angels pity him. 
 
 " The river flows on ; the days go by. The 
 soldier on his log floats past earth-mounds, and 
 great guns, and scattered pickets : he is sometimes 
 challenged and fired at, but never hit.- He begins, 
 so he hopes, to smell the grateful odor of the sea. 
 It is quite time. The sun has roasted him ; 
 insects have bitten him ; thorns have lacerated
 
 246 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 him ; his hair and his nails are like those of a 
 beast; his feet are swollen, alternately softened 
 in water, and then bruised on shore. His mother 
 would not know him ; but any mother would cry 
 over such a pitiable object. 
 
 " Coming down from his perch in a tree, he 
 hears a horrible sound. He has never heard it 
 before : it is a strange sound. His heart fails him, 
 it must be the bark of a bloodhound. He 
 sees a fierce dog approaching ; he must despatch 
 this one before his fellows come. The paddle- 
 club does its work well, and the fugitive takes to 
 the river again. Ah, yes ; the water will break 
 the scent. On he floats, for he prefers death 
 from a bullet to a grapple with the ferocious 
 hounds. All day he hears their distant baying. 
 Luckily no eyes observe him ; none, at least, but 
 the eyes of skulkers like himself. Now, as he 
 thinks of the distance, he must leave the river. 
 There must be danger ahead, for the river's 
 mouth is closely watched. Guided by the power 
 that guides the far-flying bird, he strikes into the 
 forest. Oh the labor, the pain, hunger, wounds, 
 and heart-ache ! At length the white sands are 
 near : he hears the billows come wallowing upon 
 the smooth white beach. He is naked, oh, hor- 
 ror! and a map of his bruises would be such a 
 wretched sight 
 
 " There lie the giant ships out on the tumbling 
 plain ; the bright ensigns float from the mast- 
 heads. On that blue plain is heaven ; in the 
 forest behind is "
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 247 
 
 The narrator could go no further; the picture 
 was too horrible ; the suspense could not be 
 borne. From mere faintness she ceased, closed 
 her eyes in a blessed swoon, and afterwards slept. 
 
 From this time gentle opiates were given daily, 
 and the startling visions came no more. Brief 
 glimpses of battle, of flight, of wounds and cap- 
 tivity came, but only at rare intervals. 
 
 Signer Belvedere had been present while 
 Phrebe's fevered brain had conjured up some of 
 these terrible visions, although out of her sight. 
 He sat with Miss Thorpe in a recess near by, and 
 when, at length, she slept, her condition was dis- 
 cussed. He was naturally sympathetic, although 
 his instinct would have led him to avoid such 
 painful scenes. 
 
 "Ah, Miss Thorpe, but this is dreadful! It 
 is not a malady of body, but of soul. To the 
 doctor I would say, 'Canst thou minister to a 
 mind diseas-ed ? pluck up the memory of a rooted 
 sorrow ? ' ' 
 
 " Something to turn the current of her thought 
 is needed," said Miss Thorpe. 
 
 " But what can do it ? Bring her lover back ? 
 Impossible. Take her to him ? Impossible." 
 
 " What do you suggest, then ? " 
 
 " A change of scene. A voyage to Europe." 
 
 " She could not survive it." 
 
 " But how long will she survive this?" 
 
 " True. Something must be risked. But she 
 must gain somewhat in strength first. And mean-
 
 248 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 time we may interest her in her English relatives." 
 A long conversation ensued upon the question of 
 Phoebe's parentage, which, as we have seen, had 
 been taken for granted, but had not been legally 
 established. The marriage of Roderick Manning 
 to the countess, and the birth of Phoebe as an 
 issue of that marriage rather than of the former 
 one, were not yet fully proven. Signor Belve- 
 dere thought that Phoebe should not risk a rejec- 
 tion of her claim, but should go to England armed 
 with full proof, if she went at all. An unsuccess- 
 ful attempt might overthrow her reason alto- 
 gether. As the matter now stood, Mrs. Prescott 
 could not be consulted, at least in Phoebe's pres- 
 ence. Mr. Prescott would not be likely to under- 
 take the voyage, because he was of an age to make 
 it appear a serious undertaking, because he would 
 be too proud to act vigorously to secure a legacy 
 for his wife's niece under such circumstances, and 
 because he would take no step that might result 
 in his losing her. 
 
 The fact remained that no reply had come from 
 Ralph Manning, and the proof as it was sent over 
 was undoubtedly insufficient in law in several 
 particulars. Signor Belvedere meditated, and 
 went home to meditate more at his leisure. 
 
 Phoebe remained an invalid. While under the 
 influence of her imagination in trances, her intel- 
 lect showed all its original force, though sadly 
 unbalanced ; but, when these visions ended, she 
 was silent, as if mind and body were in slow
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 249 
 
 decay together. She was after a time able to sit 
 up ; but she rarely uttered a word, only now and 
 then with a sigh she half whispered, " For you I 
 have lost my son." So the weeks passed. It 
 seemed as if nature could not long hold out with- 
 out a mental change. " Something must be done 
 to rouse her," thought Miss Thorpe. 
 
 But a thought and a purpose had been matur- 
 ing in Phoebe's mind which they little guessed. 
 In her dreams she had been journeying through 
 the seat of war. She wondered if she were ever 
 to be strong enough to go there. Could she be 
 allowed to go ? Were there means for women to 
 live in camps or in fortified towns ? Who would 
 go with her ? Signer Belvedere ? No ; for she 
 hoped he would go to Europe in the spring. Mr. 
 Hugh Prescott ? Yes, probably. Catching at this, 
 her soul climbed as to a serene hope, and the ner- 
 vous discord within began to subside. 
 
 With as much tranquillity as she could com- 
 mand, Phoebe said, "Could we not go South to 
 meet the spring? It comes late here. I should 
 like to be out of doors, in a softer air." 
 
 It was a voice as sweet as a silver bell, and its 
 undulations trembled in the heart. 
 
 " Perhaps so, my dear," answered Miss Thorpe, 
 " when you are able to bear such a journey." 
 
 Miss Thorpe herself was worn by her constant 
 care ; and a cough that had haunted her before 
 began to be troublesome. Had it been in time of 
 peace, she would have desired to go to some South-
 
 250 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 ern city so as to breathe a softer air for the re- 
 mainder of the season. Some of the Southern 
 ports were occupied by our troops ; and Miss 
 Thorpe conceived that permission might be ob- 
 tained from the secretary of war for a small party 
 to sail there in a government vessel. She broached 
 the matter to the physician the same day, and, 
 rather to her surprise, found him decidedly in 
 favor of the project. Still she feared the difficul- 
 ties would be great. 
 
 She consulted Mr. Prescott. She reasoned that 
 Phoebe's aversion to that family would vanish as 
 soon as sanity returned, and that, if she could be 
 made to take an interest in such a trip, the new 
 circumstances would tend to dispel the illusions 
 that had clouded her mind. 
 
 Mr. Prescott was doubtful about the ability of 
 delicate women to bear the hardship of a winter 
 voyage on our stormy coast, and he feared they 
 would also miss many comforts while living in 
 towns occupied by troops ; but for himself he was 
 ready to bear them company. He suggested that 
 Amory, who had returned for the winter, should 
 go also. " We want a spry young man to wait 
 upon us," he said ; " and we may have something 
 new from him upon the sublimity of the sea, or 
 upon the grandeur of a battle. 
 
 " As for Mrs. Prescott," he continued, " I don't 
 think it is best for her to go. She is in a terrible 
 state about Roderick. She has not heard from 
 him personally for some little time, although the
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 251 
 
 papers have been mentioning his name almost 
 every day, and with great praise. It really seems 
 he has turned out a hero. I knew he was brave ; 
 but I did not give him credit for so much capacity. 
 It is said he has planned and carried out some 
 brilliant movements." 
 
 "Probably your judgment is right about Mrs. 
 Prescott's going. She is a fond mother, and her 
 heart is sore. Has she seen have you seen the 
 telegrams of to-day ? Pardon me, if I am 
 abrupt." 
 
 " Oh, yes ! I have seen them ; but she has not. 
 Nothing can be certain when such conflicting 
 reports are sent. Now it is that Col. Prescott 
 received thanks for his gallant conduct. Now it 
 is Col. Prescott who was taken prisoner, and sent 
 to the pen at Florence. Now it is Col. Prescott 
 that escaped to the fleet. Now the news comes 
 that the same officer was left for dead on the 
 field. I have faith in Roderick's luck. The 
 Southern bullets are not to kill him. He will 
 come back. He will come back." 
 
 " Does his mother read the papers ? " 
 
 " Yes, I am sorry to say. I can't keep them 
 from her. But this last report, left for dead, she 
 has not seen." 
 
 "But I should think that the authorities would 
 know about some of these reports. Are not the 
 places given? And, if Col. Prescott had been 
 taken prisoner at one place, he couldn't be lead- 
 ing his regiment at another."
 
 252 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 " Every thing appears to be mixed up. I don't 
 know the geography very well ; and lots of the 
 names are not on the maps. It is hard to say 
 what the truth is. Time will show." 
 
 It was agreed then that Mr. Prescott and 
 Mr. Amory would accompany Miss Thorpe and 
 Phoebe, provided the permits could be got from 
 the war department, as soon as the conditions 
 were favorable. 
 
 Phcebe appeared to be only dreaming. She 
 was slowly recuperating, however, and her half 
 sad smiles and faintly moving lips told of sweet 
 and tender thoughts.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 253 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 IN the early part of January, one fine bright 
 day, Phoebe was sitting in an easy-chair, looking 
 out of an upper window, when she saw Signer 
 Belvedere approaching the house. The delusions 
 that had so long enthralled her faculties seemed 
 to have vanished, like frost-pictures from the win- 
 dow-panes, leaving the outlook clear. In a few 
 moments he was in the room, attended by Miss 
 Thorpe. Phcebe looked at them with clear and 
 loving eyes. She was still pale and wan ; but the 
 wild lights and dark shadows had gone from her 
 eyes, and the old trustful look had come back. 
 The master was greatly affected, though he strove 
 to mask his feeling under a show of gayety. 
 Gently taking her hand, he said, 
 
 " Bless your eyes, Miss Phaybe, this is a mira- 
 cle ! You are so lovely to-day ! How I envy Miss 
 Thorpe the pleasure of sitting before you ! And 
 now you are to' grow strongg and rosy and joyous, 
 and to sing again ! Ah, yes ! when I see you again, 
 you will sing to me a cavatina." 
 
 Phoebe smiled; but a look of melancholy fol- 
 lowed, as she replied, " I fear you will wait some 
 time." Tears came to her eyes for mere weakness.
 
 254 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 Miss Thorpe soothed her, and said, "The signor 
 has come with his p. p. c. He is going on a little 
 trip, and expects you to be well on his return." 
 
 Phoebe for an instant looked inquiringly, but 
 quickly turned on him her beautiful eyes with a 
 look of the deepest gratitude. 
 
 "It is a little trip," he said, "in one point of 
 view. It is but a little part of the earth's circle. 
 But, my dear pupil, it is for you that I am going 
 away." 
 
 " For me ? " and she looked radiant. 
 
 " Yes," said Miss Thorpe. " The signor is good 
 enough to interest himself in a matter that is very 
 near to us all. You know, we wish to know more 
 about your father and mother ; and it seems to be 
 necessary for some one to make the journey. We 
 won't weary you by talking to-day, but will ex- 
 plain more fully when you are stronger." 
 
 " All the way over the stormy and dreadful sea 
 and for poor me. It is too much." 
 
 " I wish you could go with me, Meess Phaybe. 
 You would come back as hearty as the first mate. 
 And you would see all about your fortune for 
 yourself." 
 
 Phoebe looked at him a moment steadfastly. 
 " Not for the fortune, no : I would not make the 
 passage to Europe for the fortune. If I live, I 
 can teach. How long have I been here, in this 
 room, I mean ? " 
 
 " Don't agitate yourself, dear," interposed Miss 
 Thorpe. " You have been here for some time."
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 255 
 
 " And what month is it ? " 
 
 " January." 
 
 She mused a while, and then murmured to her- 
 self, " three months, and yet only a dream." 
 
 " Do you think you could be moved by and by, 
 and venture out ? " asked Miss Thorpe. 
 
 "Perhaps so," said Phoebe in a faint tone. 
 Then in a louder voice she added, " If I could, I 
 know where I would. I have been humming ' Oh 
 that I had wings! ' I should fly to sunny weather." 
 
 " And would you really go South in this dread- 
 ful war-time ? " 
 
 "Yes," she answered with an excited look. "I 
 am not afraid. I think I must have been there: 
 I think I should know the landscapes. And I do 
 know the faces that I have seen. I should find 
 friends, protectors." 
 
 " Pray, be calmer," said Miss Thorpe. " Think, 
 please, that we want you tranquil, so that you may 
 become able to go. For if you can improve for a 
 few weeks, and get some strength and appetite and 
 color, we will endeavor to gratify your wishes." 
 
 Phoebe's eyes closed ; her hands were crossed 
 upon her breast, her lips moved, and a faint 
 approach to a smile spread over her features. 
 She could not speak ; but, as soon as she unclosed 
 the lids, her eyes beamed with an expression so 
 grateful, so touching, so eloquent, that her friends 
 were thrilled, and by the same impulse moved 
 nearer, and gently caressed her thin hands. 
 
 A moment later Signer Belvedere arose, and
 
 256 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 having, by some feat of prestidigitation, cleared 
 the rheum from his eyes, with his silk handker- 
 chief blew a sonorous nasal blast that set Phosbe 
 to laughing in spite of herself. 
 
 " Farewell ! " he said. " Cras ingens iterabimus 
 cequor. I have not-a seen Italy for many years. 
 I wish to settle the affairs between Papa Pius and 
 Victor Emmanuel, and abridge the un-a-constitu- 
 tional spread of his warlike mustachios. There 
 are other persons I would see, notably a family in 
 Florence, for whose name Belvedere has been a 
 pleasant substitute. ' Noblesse ' obliges in many 
 ways ; and if a chevalier with a longg pedigree 
 at his-a back insists on giving music lessons, even 
 in a foreign land, he will not con-a-taminate the 
 name of his noble kinsmen. It is not Delle 
 Torre the name but it is well enough. It 
 cannot have happen-ed that a Delle Torre con- 
 tracted marriage that is not-a recorded. Then for 
 England, and, when the roses come, back to this 
 pleasant and drowsy little city. Farewell ! " 
 
 He was gone. Phosbe had listened to his gay 
 but suggestive sentences, first amused, then inter- 
 ested, then excited. But it was marvellous to see 
 how she bore it. Her mind had rapidly regained 
 its equilibrium. Though her nerves were still 
 tremulous, and her strength almost a negative 
 quantity, she had clear vision and the natural sen- 
 sations. Miss Thorpe had watched her anxiously, 
 and was rejoiced when the strain of the interview 
 was ended.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 257 
 
 The parting words of the music-master gave 
 both Miss Thorpe and Phoebe enough to reflect 
 upon. For many days the person and character 
 of this brilliant and eccentric man were discussed. 
 Phoebe recalled his fencing-foils, and his habitual 
 military port, the perfection of details in dress, 
 impossible for any but men of the highest ton, 
 the rare intaglio in his signet-ring and the priceless 
 work upon his scarf-pin, and above all his man- 
 ners, in which a commanding air of superiority 
 was blended with the most subtile, flattering atten- 
 tion and deference. These things were evidently 
 part of the history of a man once in high station. 
 
 It was as good as a play to notice the bland 
 courtesy of the fine aristocrat. His professional 
 income must have been ample ; but it was not 
 wholly for money that he taught. He would 
 instruct whom he chose, and no others. The best 
 houses in the city had always been open to him. 
 The foreign residents apparently avoided him. 
 He did not much dissemble towards the unedu- 
 cated and vulgar, but moved before them with a 
 calm dignity that made him as distant as Mont 
 Blanc from the Italian plains. He was a splendid 
 mystery while near, and not less so now that he 
 had gone. 
 
 It will be readily believed that the recovery of 
 the invalid was thenceforth rapid. There seemed 
 to have arisen for her new objects in life. How 
 much had been done for her, and by how many 
 persons of mark ! the noble Italian was crossing
 
 258 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 the wintry seas for her; and now, for her sake, 
 her friends were going to sail far southward, and 
 venture into the midst of armies in constant 
 activity, and surrounded by vigilant foes. Her 
 spirits rose with the occasion, and all the native 
 timidity of the maiden was forgotten. She longed 
 for the time to come. The huge hulk of a ship is 
 steered by a small rudder. A girl's will, appar- 
 ently so feeble and so yielding, had brought about 
 two great purposes. A sagacious and zealous 
 agent had started to ascertain her parentage ; and 
 now the friends who were nearest were constrained 
 to accompany her to the region she had dreamed 
 of, perhaps to her destiny. Yet the influences 
 had not been obvious to the persons she had 
 moved. Her inmost wishes had been fulfilled as 
 if by spirit acting upon obedient matter. The 
 time of visions had passed : the realities were now 
 to come. 
 
 Preparations for the voyage were rapidly made. 
 Mr. Prescott obtained the necessary permission 
 from the authorities at Washington, and passes, 
 for his party to sail in the steamer " Leverrier," 
 from New York. Only the physician and a few 
 intimate friends knew of the project. Mary Pres- 
 cott was sent for from the country to stay with 
 her aunt; and without. a farewell call, or the least 
 ripple of excitement, the adventurers set out. 
 Phoebe appeared the cheerful and calm leader of 
 the party. They reached New York without any 
 incident, and without fatigue. The " Leverrier,"
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 259 
 
 a steamer of over three thousand tons, carrying 
 provisions, arms, army stores, and a large number 
 of recruits, was to sail as soon as she could be got 
 ready. When a steamer sets out for Europe with 
 a crowd of happy tourists, while friends on the 
 dock are waving white handkerchiefs, and smiles 
 are chasing tears, and pleasant words and airy 
 farewells are flung, that is a joyous scene. The 
 sailing of the " Leverrier " furnished a very differ- 
 ent spectacle. It was at the time of the lowest ebb 
 in the fortunes of the nation. Soldiers no longer 
 went away humming La donna e mobile : it was a 
 serious business. The sailors had seen such inces- 
 sant labor, that they snapped out every word with 
 oaths, and with the expression of mastiffs. The 
 petty officers, mates and the like, were fiercer 
 than the sailors. They howled their orders like 
 demons ; and, amidst a babel that could only be 
 paralleled by the New- York Gold Board on the 
 memorable Black Friday, the work of loading the 
 great vessel went on. To a landsman it seemed 
 as if every thing was pitched pell-mell into the 
 hold. The captain had his eye upon the scene 
 probably ; but he was invisible until steam was up 
 and the hawser was cast off. The other superior 
 officers looked as if they had been brought up 
 under Charon, and acquired their civility in. ferry- 
 ing huddles of damned souls across the Styx. 
 Whoever was upon the ship, in their view, was 
 an inferior being, except the military officer of 
 highest rank on board : he was the " king pin ; "
 
 260 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 and every one, even the captain, had to render 
 him implicit obedience. It was for him to say 
 when meals should be served, and who might sit 
 at table ; whether any one might smoke, and, if so, 
 where. But over the civil passengers the ship's 
 officers had full sway, and every civilian was a 
 dog. It was a rash man, who, Avithout epaulets, 
 dared ask an officer which way was the wind, or 
 how the ship was heading, or how many knots an 
 hour were made. The questioner was pulling a 
 plug, and he could not tell what scalding or filthy 
 gush would come upon him. 
 
 Into this scene, where hundreds of men were 
 exerting every energy to do the work of many 
 days in one ; where turmoil was incessant, and 
 cursing only a common mode of breathing ; where 
 frantic beings, unwashed and uncombed, rushed 
 about, rolling barrels, tilting boxes, and propelling 
 trucks ; where drays jammed in with endless loads ; 
 and where stern men in blue overcoats, with guns 
 and bayonets, kept off the ill-looking crowd of 
 loungers, into this scene, preceded by a friendly 
 young lieutenant, came the delicate Miss Thorpe 
 (a diminutive Minerva) and Miss Phoebe (a slen- 
 der but stately Diana) and the two gentlemen. 
 
 At sight of the women a lane was made with- 
 out remark : only the under officers swore ; for 
 them it was a state-room less. The ladies were 
 shown at once to a large room well astern, in 
 which were two wide berths, a sofa, and a lounge. 
 Two ladies, wives of officers, were to be their 
 room-mates.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 261 
 
 Mr. Prescott and Amory were to have berths 
 nearer amidships. Only one cabin was saved for 
 the use of the passengers : the others were filled 
 with stores or hammocks. All prudent passen- 
 gers, male and female, brought their own wraps 
 and bed-clothing. 
 
 It was in February, and the cold was intense. 
 The air seemed to be full of ice-needles. No one 
 could walk the deck in comfort, least of all a 
 woman in shawls and skirts. A steam pipe kept 
 the ladies' state-room comfortable ; but most of 
 the accessible parts of the ship were cold, dark, 
 and cheerless, and bare of the most ordinary com- 
 forts. 
 
 Some time passed, and the turmoil on the 
 wharf suddenly lessened, then ceased. Then loud 
 and decisive orders were heard from the deck. 
 The steam sang its tremendous monotone in the 
 great pipe, and now and then gave a pish of 
 impatience through a stop-cock. The speak- 
 ing-trumpets renewed their discord. " LET GO 
 THERE! " There was a heavy splash of a haw- 
 ser; the gangway-plank was shoved off; the pilot 
 touched the bell; the engine groaned; the great 
 paddle-wheels began to turn ; and the " Lever- 
 rier" was off. Slowly churning the half-frozen 
 water and the floating masses of ice and refuse, the 
 vessel swung round into the stream. 
 
 Much of this was seen by Phoabe and Miss 
 Thorpe through the glazed port-hole of their 
 state-room. Then, as the majestic vessel slowly
 
 262 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 moved on, a pert little tug-boat came alongside, 
 puffing with importance, and bringing the end of 
 an enormous cable. When the cable was fastened, 
 and pulled taut, a superbly-rigged bark appeared 
 in tow, and thenceforth followed the steamer. 
 The bark was loaded with live cattle, to furnish 
 beef for the Southern army. 
 
 About this time the ladies thought they would 
 inquire for their friends ; but neither Mr. Pres- 
 cott nor Mr. Amory could be found on board. 
 Miss Thorpe had the pass from the government, 
 and she had sufficient money ; but the thought 
 of making the voyage alone, and of arriving at 
 a military post unfriended, was appalling. It was 
 now Phoebe's turn to be brave, and to sustain 
 the drooping spirits of her convoy. They were 
 assured by fellow-passengers that steamers sailed 
 every few days, and of course the gentlemen 
 would follow them by the first vessel that offered. 
 
 The steamer, before many hours, was rolling 
 and struggling in the terrible winter sea. Squalls 
 of snow darkened the air : every wave that was 
 shipped left more and more ice, until the vessel 
 was armor-plated. But of this the hapless women 
 knew nothing. The violence of the storm obliged 
 them to keep their berths ; and neither had a look 
 at sea or sky until when, three or four days later, 
 they were running in smooth water, and tracing 
 out a fringe of feathery palmettos on the edge of 
 the horizon.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 263 
 
 CHAPTER xxm. 
 
 IT was remarkably imprudent in Mr. Prescott ; 
 but he yielded to the suggestion of Amory that 
 they should go on shore to get some newspapers, 
 fruit, cigars, and a few other indispensable arti- 
 cles. He had put the all-important pass in Miss 
 Thorpe's keeping. The two went up the wharf, 
 walked a square or two, made their purchases 
 with what speed they might, and then returned. 
 The gate of the lower wharf was chained, and a 
 sentinel stood by with his musket. " No one 
 admitted without a pass." " But I have a pass." 
 " Show it." " It is in the hands of my friend 
 aboard ship." " The worse for you." "I can 
 get it, and show you." "No; for you can't go 
 by here." - " But I just passed out." " Well, 
 you had a right to." "But not to go back?" 
 " Not without a pass." " Why was the gate 
 open when I went out, and shut now ? " " Gate 
 is allus shut before steamer starts." " Do you 
 say I can't get aboard that vessel ? " "I say 
 so. That's what I'm here f$r." The wheels were 
 already revolving. Amory and Prescott both 
 redoubled their entreaties with the obdurate sen- 
 tinel, until he finally ordered them away, with a
 
 264 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 threat of arrest. The steamer was off. Amory, 
 with wild eyes, and fingers clawing at his hair, 
 was swearing like a stevedore [truth demands 
 the statement] ; but Mr. Prescott sat down on a 
 bale, and sobbed. 
 
 It was a sorrowful pair that -went up to the 
 Astor House. 
 
 Luckily the next day there was another steamer 
 in berth. Another pass was procured by tele- 
 graph ; new personal supplies were obtained ; and 
 the impatient voyagers embarked. 
 
 The ship soon ran into the same storm in which 
 the " Leverrier" had started. It blew what sailors 
 call a fresh breeze ; that is to say, no human being 
 could stand on deck without holding on to some- 
 thing. The sea precipitated itself, came head first 
 upon the deck ; and the water froze as it fell. 
 The ice on the lower rigging, bulwarks, and wheel- 
 house, was nearly a foot thick ; and gangs of men, 
 held by ropes around their waists, were set to cut 
 it off, because its vast weight made the vessel top- 
 heavy. Such was the penalty of passing Hatteras 
 in a north-easter. Prescott and "Amory had found 
 a friend in office, and got a comfortable state- 
 room ; only the animals (horses and cows) on 
 deck were directly over head ; and as often as a 
 dash of the icy spray came over the creatures, or 
 as, sometimes, a ton of water thundered down 
 upon them, they kicked and groaned in such a 
 way as to make sleep impossible. The waves, 
 too, came with a rush and a roar, and at times
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 265 
 
 with a series of crushing blows as though the 
 ship's ribs were struck by some gigantic hammer ; 
 then the vessel would sway and twist and creak 
 like a willow basket. After the stormy point was 
 passed, though the wind continued cold, the water 
 was about sixty degrees ; and a light mist rose 
 from the waves, so that their curling, whitening 
 edges seemed to smoke. 
 
 Afterwards came two delightful days, with clear 
 skies, bland airs, and a distant line of gleaming 
 white sand on the starboard. Still southward they 
 went on an even keel, with glimpses of sandy 
 shore, and tufts of palmetto, in the golden west. 
 How beautiful every thing looked to eyes that had 
 seen only angry waves so long ! 
 
 Soon the unmistakable signs of a military post 
 appeared. Long, low buildings of immense extent 
 were seen; and piers jutted into the harbor, at 
 which were lying hundreds of vessels of all classes, 
 from sutler's schooners up to ocean steamers and 
 men-of-war. In the rear were fortifications ; and 
 flags, mere glancing specks of red and white, float- 
 ed above. 
 
 It was Sunday; and the pier was crowded with 
 an eighth of a mile of soldiers, laborers, and team- 
 sters. Making their way through the throng with 
 some difficulty, our friends traversed the long pier, 
 and across the dazzling white sand (up to the 
 ankles at every step), to the office of the provost- 
 marshal. 
 
 They had sought for information on board their
 
 266 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 vessel in vain : the Ancient Mariner might just 
 as well have made the same inquiries of his 
 spectre crew. Up to this moment, the voyagers 
 had not the least idea where they should find 
 Col. Prescott, nor upon what service he was 
 bound. Not a soldier nor officer on the wharf 
 would answer any sort of a question with regard 
 to the location of regiments or commanders. 
 There was wisdom and necessity in this ; but our 
 two civilians did not then know that publicity 
 had been such a damage to the government as to 
 make silence imperative. 
 
 Their passes were vised, and they went to the 
 only hotel. Its claims to distinction lay in the 
 fact that the price was five dollars a day, and that 
 " native wine " (so called, but in fact a very fair 
 champagne without any label) could be obtained 
 at four dollars a bottle. The lodging-rooms were 
 a series of boxes much like those provided for 
 cattle in ocean steamers, and the beds, 
 
 Infandum! . . . jubes renovare dolorem. 
 
 At the table bets were daily made, so it was 
 said, as to whether the particular piece of flesh 
 offered for mastication was beef, pork, or mutton. 
 As for poultry and eggs, not a hen had been 
 heard to cackle at the island for a year. Wild 
 fowl were plenty, but no one was allowed to fire 
 a gun. The tin can was the only horn of plenty. 
 To return to our travellers. Miss Thorpe and 
 Phrebe were not at the hotel. The inference was,
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 267 
 
 that they must have gone to Beaufort, where they 
 would have better accommodations, and society of 
 their own sex. The steamer for Beaufort was to 
 sail in a few hours ; and Mr. Prescott and Amory, 
 having had their passes visSd by the quartermaster 
 at the pier, obtained permission to go. 
 
 They spent the few hours of leisure on the long 
 pier, preferring to observe that scene of activity 
 than to lounge about the hotel. They soon 
 espied a tall and familiar form in a colonel's uni- 
 form. Neither of them could remember his name 
 or belongings, but Amory felt sure he had seen 
 him in a pulpit. Mr. Prescott accosted the offi- 
 cer ; and, receiving a civil and even friendly reply, 
 the conversation was continued. The officer was 
 stationed near Beaufort, and, by singular good- 
 fortune, had met Miss Thorpe and Phoebe on their 
 arrival, the former being an old friend and 
 fellow-member of the Plato Club, and had 
 obtained for them a temporary home with some 
 noble women at the well-known Smith planta- 
 tion. This was an inexpressible relief. 
 
 Now came up the matter of Roderick. The 
 colonel was discreet : the movements of the army 
 were not to be discussed, not even the where- 
 abouts of an officer. Events were in the air. 
 The colonel parleyed, admitted that Roderick 
 had been wounded, but said he was now on duty, 
 and in an important position. This extreme cau- 
 tion was new to Mr. Prescott ; and his curiosity, 
 not to say his anxiety, was momently on the 
 increase.
 
 268 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 At length the colonel said, in a string of vague 
 but suggestive sentences, that a despatch steamer 
 was going at once to Jacksonville. Pie had no 
 advice to offer, no permission to give. Mr. Pres- 
 cott must decide for himself. The ladies were 
 well cared for, and with genial companions : so 
 much was certain. Mr. Prescott need have no 
 fears about their safety and comforts. If he 
 wished to see his son, the colonel, why, the de- 
 spatch steamer would take him to the St. John 
 in a few hours ; and then Mr. Prescott would 
 learn more than the colonel was now at liberty 
 to communicate, and he would learn what he 
 could not learn at the present station. Probably 
 he could return in a few days ; but a pass must 
 be got from Gen. Gillmore, the fort-crusher. 
 
 If Col. Hunt had known what was going to 
 happen, he would have hesitated before advising 
 two peaceable non-combatants to go to Jackson- 
 ville. But he had said just enough to pique 
 curiosity to the utmost; and Mr. Prescott, hav- 
 ing heard how delightfully the ladies were situat- 
 ed, and finding that he could go by boat so 
 quickly, and probably could return at any time, 
 proposed to Amory to accompany him. The plan 
 was not so attractive to the young man, but he 
 consented cheerfully. Col. Hunt succeeded in 
 getting passes in the face of strong opposition. 
 
 The steamer that took our travellers from Port 
 Royal to the coast of Florida seemed to be a thing 
 of mystery. Its captain was a severe-looking per-
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 269 
 
 son, who scowled on the first officer, who scowled 
 on the second, who transmitted the scowl to the 
 third, and so on down. What the vessel was 
 going for, what had happened or was going to 
 happen, was beyond any one's knowledge. There 
 was a singular absence of conveniences on board, 
 except in the matter of implements of war. 
 
 The weather continued fine. After a very 
 swift passage, the steamer went at half-speed, and 
 presently a sound was heard like the roaring of 
 surf. All rushed on deck to behold the entrance 
 of St. John's River. There was a long line of 
 breakers on the bar stretching north-east, a de- 
 serted lighthouse on the left bank, and, just inside, 
 a field of tumultuous eddies, formed by the rising 
 tide in its struggles with the current of the river. 
 
 When the steamer had passed the tide-rips, the 
 stillness of death brooded over the broad and 
 sluggish stream. Trees hung with moss lined the 
 banks ; and withered reeds leaned in the black 
 ooze by the shore. Here and there stood a 
 planter's house or a negro's cabin, and around 
 them a scarcely perceptible bloom showed the com- 
 ing of early spring to the peach-trees ; but not a 
 human being was to be seen, white or black. 
 The steamer moved cautiously on. Its two Par- 
 rott guns were shotted and manned, and in the 
 place of the steamer's captain the senior military 
 officer gave the noiseless orders as she steamed up 
 the stream. Not a word was spoken, but even 
 the silence was appalling.
 
 270 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 The reason of all this was soon apparent. The 
 town of Jacksonville, or what remained of it, 
 came into view ; and there at the wharf our trav- 
 ellers saw a fleet of transport-steamers, and in the 
 stream a gunboat commanding the approaches. 
 The town had a wofully battered look. Chimneys 
 had been overturned, roofs burned, gardens tram- 
 pled, and fences demolished, mostly by the South- 
 ern troops on their retreat. 
 
 This was war. It was as far from a holiday 
 excursion as possible. Now came on the first of 
 the waves of that " sea of troubles " with which 
 our civilians were to contend. There were no 
 residents, except a few troops, servants, and strag- 
 glers. It was an armed camp under rigid discipline. 
 They showed their passports to a beardless imper- 
 tinence in shoulder-straps, who demanded names 
 and business, and who only allowed them to go 
 ashore after an exciting and not very courteous 
 examination of nearly fifteen minutes. It was 
 incredible to officers in the service that any man 
 would actually come to the front, unless he were 
 a renegade, a spy, or a prospective sutler. The 
 story would have been called thin, if that slang 
 had then existed. So Mr. Prescott answered 
 again and again why he had started, who came 
 with him, and where he had left his company. 
 And the officer then condescended to inform him 
 that the army had come to Florida " on business ; " 
 that there would be a movement soon, naturally, 
 but when or where he could not say. There
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 271 
 
 might be a chance to return to Port Royal soon, 
 or there might not. They could live on shore, 
 under surveillance, of course, if they could find a 
 mess that would admit strangers ; or they might 
 live on the steamer by agreeing with the commis- 
 sary's deputy. If the army should move, there 
 might be a few companies left to protect the place, 
 or there might not. If not, they (our travellers) 
 might have their choice, to remain on the 
 steamer with a chance of being sent back to New 
 York, or to follow the army on foot in its forced 
 marches inland. 
 
 During the interview briefly sketched, Amory 
 was inflamed with wrath visibly. His cheeks 
 were scarlet, and his eyes glaring. But Mr. Pres- 
 cott, though fully as angry, gave his arm a gripe, 
 and insisted on silence. 
 
 " Lieutenant," said our elder traveller gravely, 
 " as you have viseed our passports, I believe we 
 have a right to go on shore. For your informa- 
 tion as to how and where we can live, and for 
 your warnings in regard to the future, we are 
 deeply grateful. We are properly sorry we came, 
 but that cannot be helped now. We will endeav- 
 or to bestow ourselves where we shall burden no 
 one, nor intrude in any exclusive mess"; and for 
 that purpose we shall try to see your superior offi- 
 cer. He will be glad to hear, doubtless, with 
 what zeal you use the authority in which you are 
 clothed, also with what delicate and considerate 
 kindness you have cheered and aided us."
 
 272 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 The lieutenant, if he still lives, probably re- 
 members the tingling emphasis, and the signs of 
 the vehement emotion that would have surged up 
 like lava, if an enforced, icy courtesy had not 
 covered the hidden fire. 
 
 The three formed a striking group. The strut- 
 ting officer had half a mind to be angry and re- 
 sentful ; yet he was awed involuntarily by the 
 steady gaze of Mr. Prescott, and perhaps was half 
 afraid that it was the Secretary of War or some 
 senator whom he had been bullying. Amory 
 was swollen, bulbous, and high-shouldered. His 
 pulpy lips had hardened to sealing-wax. For all 
 his supposed softness and poetic sensibility, he 
 was as pugnacious a fellow as one often meets. 
 He drew deep, wheezy breaths while the senior 
 was returning thanks, and watched the color 
 come and go in the young cock's face. Mr. Pres- 
 cott, with his resolute countenance and his large 
 and luminous eyes, looked the master of the situ- 
 ation, as he was. Touching their hats to the 
 officer with an excessive politeness, they walked 
 up the river-bank. 
 
 Only a small regiment of colored troops was 
 found at the town. The expedition was already 
 in motion. 
 
 These were facts that our friends ascertained 
 a little later. On their way they were repeatedly 
 stopped by the guard ; and at last, approaching a 
 house that retained some vestiges of its former 
 credit, they were desired to enter, and show their 
 papers to the provost-marshal.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 273 
 
 The provost was represented by a deputy ; and 
 our travellers were asked anew all the questions 
 they had answered at the wharf, and a hundred 
 more besides. This was a ruddy, good-natured 
 fellow, however, and in the end he gave some 
 hints of the reasons why strangers were so sharply 
 questioned and watched. In justice to the much- 
 tried officers, it must be said that civilians were 
 out of place " at the front." 
 
 The prospects of our travellers indeed appeared 
 dubious. The rebel general Finnegan was known 
 as a wily and restless enemy. If he could elude 
 the vigilance of Seymour, he might turn and anni- 
 hilate the few troops in Jacksonville, destroy the 
 transport-steamers, or even capture the gunboat. 
 The freedom of our civilians, and their hope of 
 returning to Port Royal, appeared to hang on the 
 success of the expedition ; and it was impossible 
 to say whether they would be in greater personal 
 danger on their steamer, in the town, or with the 
 rear guard of the army in pursuit of Finnegan. 
 
 Soon the provost-marshal in person appeared. 
 Amory gave one look at him, and sprang forward 
 to seize the hand of an old and intimate friend. 
 It was a hearty, generous meeting on both sides. 
 Red tape was forgotten : passports were useless 
 scrawls. The party withdrew to an inner room, 
 where army hospitalities were duly tendered, and 
 the " assurances " exchanged over tin dippers 
 (gills only) of the regulation whiskey known as
 
 274 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 "commissary [D]." It was not nectar, but was 
 the best the gallant provost had to offer. 
 
 Their immediate wants being provided for, the 
 baggage was brought ashore, and a " shake-down " 
 was spread in a chamber that was fragrant with 
 yellow jessamine flowers peeping in through open 
 windows ; and then the evening passed in cheer- 
 ful talk, and with the incense of reed-stemmed 
 Powhatan pipes.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 275 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 MR. PEESCOTT slept as soundly on the hard pal- 
 let as if he had been accustomed to it ; but while 
 he was dreaming of seeing Phrebe perpetually near, 
 yet always eluding him, he suddenly woke. The 
 provost-marshal was at his bedside, also an orderly 
 with a lantern. A small party with letters and 
 orders was going forward at once. It was two 
 o'clock in the morning. There was an opportu- 
 nity, if Mr. Prescott wished, to accompany the 
 party. Due emphasis was laid upon Mr. Pres- 
 cott's wish; the means of conveyance was an 
 ambulance. Amory was already dressed, and held 
 his hand bag. Mr. Prescott brushed the sleep 
 from his eyes, hurriedly laved them in cool water, 
 put on his surtout, and followed the party. 
 
 The troops moved promptly and without sound, 
 except from the hoofs of horses and the rumbling 
 of wheels. Vedettes preceded, and scoured the 
 woods on either hand, while the small column 
 steadily followed. All was still. Not a human 
 being was seen. 
 
 Late in the evening of the same day the rear of 
 the main body of the advancing forces was 
 reached. For the first time Mfi Prescott and
 
 276 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 Amory comprehended their position. They were 
 following a small army of less than six thousand 
 men four thousand four hundred actual comba- 
 tants into the heart of Florida, advancing to 
 meet an unknown enemy posted no one knew 
 where, and, being perfectly acquainted with the 
 country, ready to take prompt advantage of any 
 error on the part of the invaders. 
 
 Mr. Prescott was struck with the grim and fixed 
 expression of countenance of both officers and 
 men. It was as far as possible from a holiday 
 parade. Officers were vigorous and curt: the 
 men were alert and resolute. When the column 
 encamped at St. Mary's Ford, and the prepara- 
 tions for the night-watch were made, our friends, 
 under guidance of the friendly sergeant, went 
 through the darkness to visit Col. Prescott. An 
 orderly lifted the fold of the tent; and there, in a 
 colonel's uniform, on his knees in prayer, was 
 Robert Prescott. 
 
 Both stepped back, and raised their hats, their 
 surprise and reverence mingling in an overpower- 
 ing emotion, until the preacher-colonel rose. 
 
 How they rushed together ! What embraces 
 and hand-shakings ! what exclamations of delight ! 
 " My dear Robert," at length Mr. Prescott found 
 breath to say, " and so this is the field ? Not India 
 or Africa, but your own land! God in heaven 
 bless you ! How could I doubt my brother's son ? 
 We have a land worth fighting for, and what 
 could be nobler than to die for her ! Oh the old
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 277 
 
 blood tells! My grandfather spent that dreadful 
 winter at Valley Forge. Your grandfather was 
 out in the war of 1812. Now you are here ! 
 Whenever the country needs her sons, there will 
 always be a Prescott in arms. But tell us, how 
 did you come here ? " 
 
 "I know," said Col. Robert modestly, "that this 
 is strange for a man of my chosen profession ; but 
 it was no fickleness that led me to volunteer. 
 When I came to reflect upon it, as I was about 
 leaving Boston, the peril of the country was 
 immediate, and my first duty was to defend her. 
 If this country were to go down, the hope of lib- 
 erty and Christianity everywhere would be dark- 
 ened. I went to Albany, and offered my services. 
 What moved the governor to trust me, a stranger, 
 a student without military training, I can't say ; 
 but he gave me a second lieutenant's commission 
 in a regiment just setting out. We have been in 
 constant service ; and so many men have been 
 killed and disabled and captured, that the force is 
 wholly changed. The present officers are mostly 
 new men, risen from the ranks. I am to-day the 
 senior. The ordinary experience of years has 
 been crowded into months. I have been taken 
 prisoner, and have escaped. I have been two or 
 three times hit, just grazed by bullets, but have 
 not had a serious wound. The severest ordeal I 
 have had was in escaping by way of the Edisto 
 River to the sea, when I lay hid in tree-tops by 
 day, and paddled on a log by night, when I lived
 
 278 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 on a sweet-potato a day, raw or roasted as it might 
 happen, given me by some skulking negro." 
 
 Light was breaking in upon Mr. Prescott's mind. 
 He began to understand the reason for the con- 
 flicting reports. There were two Col. Prescotts. 
 
 " And where is Roderick ? " asked Mr. Prescott 
 eagerly. 
 
 " Close at hand. I will send for him." 
 
 While the orderly went to the camp of the 
 negro regiment, Mr. Prescott gave a rapid ac- 
 count of the journey. Robert's surprise was now 
 redoubled. That Phoebe should have chosen to 
 come to the seat of war, and should have suc- 
 ceeded in bringing the fragile and shrinking Miss 
 Thorpe as her companion, was beyond his compre- 
 hension. His cheeks colored with pleasure ; and 
 then he thought of a leave of absence and the 
 delight of meeting the only woman he had ever 
 loved. Then the imminent struggle came to 
 mind, and he shuddered to think what fatal mis- 
 chances might come between him and his hopes. 
 Then, too, he wondered if Roderick had not been 
 the attraction. Unless Phoebe had some hidden 
 source of information as to himself could this 
 be possible? she must have been impelled by 
 curiosity, or sympathy for the rival. 
 
 His meditations were cut short by the arrival 
 of Col. Roderick. Behold a young man with 
 closely cropped hair, a thin and brown face, so 
 brown that his blue eyes showed like turquoises 
 in leather, with a sharp and rather disagreeable,
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 279 
 
 dare-devil expression, and with a lithe movement 
 of body like that of a trained athlete. The silken 
 dandy had been thoroughly broken in and hardened 
 to his work. 
 
 The greetings were hearty, and the surprise on 
 Roderick's part, perhaps, even greater than with 
 Robert. That his step-father and Amory, and the 
 ladies, should come to the seat of war through so 
 much of difficulty and danger was beyond belief. 
 First he inquired affectionately with regard to his 
 mother, and then paused. 
 
 The two colonels looked at each other mean- 
 ingly, and then Robert slowly spoke. 
 
 " I suppose you didn't come over here without 
 knowing that you come straight into danger?" 
 
 " Well, no," replied Mr. Prescott. " We knew 
 fighting was going on." 
 
 " But we are liable to be attacked any moment. 
 We are prepared for that risk, Roderick and I, 
 but you must be cared for. koderick and I will 
 see that you have quarters with the surgeons and 
 commissaries in the rear." 
 
 " Then you expect a battle ? " 
 
 "I only know we are marching into an un- 
 known country, and that we have one of the craf- 
 tiest of foes watching our movements. Finnegan, 
 the rebel leader, they say, was once a private in 
 the regular army under Seymour, and he vows he 
 will beat his old captain. We may fall into an 
 ambuscade like Braddock, or we may sweep across 
 the country to the gulf; but I think we shall 
 have hot work within twenty-four hours."
 
 280 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 " Sure of that ! " said Roderick. 
 
 Amory looked admiringly upon the two heroes, 
 and began actually to regret he had not volun- 
 teered. His ideas were rising to the high level ; 
 and he burned for leisure, a table, pen, ink, and 
 paper, that he might record the glorious thrills he 
 felt, before their impression faded. Mary should 
 read a description of this scene in the tented field 
 the night before battle. 
 
 " It is surmised," said Robert cautiously, " that 
 Seymour is advancing on his own responsibility, 
 and contrary to Gillmore's orders. If he succeeds, 
 the fault will be atoned for: if he fails, he will 
 have a double load to bear." 
 
 " But don't let us talk politics," said Roderick. 
 " Here are we four. Not far away are two women. 
 What new throw of the dice may happen to-mor- 
 row, who can say? Now, let us talk practical 
 sense, just as if to-morrow was going to " He 
 looked at his step-father, checked himself, and 
 then went on more cheerily, 
 
 " Now, here is my parson, my pet preacher. 
 You can't be more surprised to find him here than 
 I was. We have only met within three months. 
 Before that, I think I hated him about as thor- 
 oughly as a man could hate another. * I didn't 
 know him." 
 
 Robert listened with a half-amused expression, 
 and wondered if " Commissary [D] " had any 
 thing to do with this frankness. 
 
 " I've been thinking I ought to speak," contin-
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 281 
 
 ued Roderick. "Most men think they are good 
 enough for any woman ; but I am an exception. 
 Now this parson-colonel here thinks he keeps his 
 secret ; but it is hidden like the red-bordered hand- 
 kerchief peeping out of a swell's breast-pocket. 
 There are about three things this singular man 
 worships, God, his country, and a certain young 
 lady. Perhaps we should reverse the order ; but 
 let it stand." 
 
 Mr. Prescott thought Roderick unsettled in 
 mind, perhaps by premonitions of the morrow, 
 perhaps by the thoughts of home which had been 
 awakened by this visit. He endeavored to turn 
 the conversation. 
 
 " Your mother has pleasant news from England. 
 She thinks of making her brother a visit next 
 season, or as soon as you can go with us." 
 
 " Oh, yes ! ' when this cruel war is over,' of course 
 we will go. I hope I'll get a star or two on my 
 shoulders first. I understand the copper stock 
 has come up booming. Mother must be happy 
 now. And how does Gibbs like it?" 
 
 " Your mother can bear a great deal of prosper- 
 ity, and I am glad she has her share of it. Gibbs, 
 I think, is really cut. He looks at me as if I had 
 been his enemy." 
 
 "That is according to the old poetical adage, 
 said Robert : 
 
 " ' Forgiveness to the injured does belong ; 
 
 But they ne'er pardon who have done the wrong.' "
 
 282 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 " Sometimes they cZo," said Roderick. " I was in 
 the wrong and did the wrong. I forgive. This 
 Col. Robert here, father, is the best man (oh ! I 
 go for religion after this) ; he has saved my life, 
 and much more than that. Keep quiet, will you, 
 colonel ? I have something to say in view of cer- 
 tain contingencies." 
 
 " Come, Roderick," said his step-father, " don't 
 distress yourself. The rebels haven't a shot that 
 is to hit you." 
 
 " Well, maybe so ; but they've hit me some 
 half-dozen times before now. But you don't 
 know all I have been thinking of do they, colo- 
 nel?" 
 
 "Scarcely. But you are in an odd humor." 
 
 " Let me have my way. I see that my friend 
 goes in such a bee-line in regard to his affection, 
 that he could die for a man, or a woman. And 
 I have asked myself, ' Now could you, would you, 
 Roderick, die for any woman ? ' And, when I 
 reflect upon it, I find the everlasting truth is, I 
 wouldn't : besides, mother has written to me about 
 Phoabe's visions. They fit this man's case better 
 than mine. He has escaped to the sea. His for- 
 tune has interested her. Now, here we are in this 
 treacherous country, and we don't know well, 
 the fact is, if a man has no property to dispose 
 of, he ought to make a will and testament for 
 something. And things have been a little mixed. 
 And while the young lady is splendid, and all that, 
 I believe she really ought to love or might love
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 283 
 
 this solemn, but awfully good fellow. Am I 
 to be the selfish, naughty boy ? No, 111 go away 
 and sulk ; or rather I'll beat the bush for new 
 game. So here, Robert Prescott, rise up, give me 
 your hand ! This is a nuncupative will (I think 
 that's the phrase). I read law once, about two 
 months. You know what I would say. Go ahead. 
 I'm not in your way." 
 
 How much of this strange jumble was due to 
 gratitude, how much to a fickle nature, how 
 much to a flaunting generosity, and how much to 
 the lingering fumes of " Commissary [D]," can 
 hardly be told. Were the beautiful Phoebe present, 
 or within reach, it would never have been uttered. 
 For Roderick, as the reader has seen, was much 
 under the influence of the moment ; and now, in 
 camp, with certain grateful impulses in mind, and 
 some lugubrious prospects ahead, he could be 
 heroic in self-denial. But the speech lifted a load 
 off the mind of his rival, and caused his step- 
 father and Amory not a little surprise. 
 
 Robert simply said, " I appreciate your intended 
 kindness. But it is not for us to dispose of the 
 young lady. She is to decide the momentous 
 question for herself." Mr. Prescott gravely as- 
 sented to Robert's remark, and added that such 
 a matter should be deferred to a more fitting sea- 
 son. Many subjects came up, the departure of 
 Belvedere, the prayer-book, and the probability 
 of Phoebe's relationship to the Mannings. Amory 
 came in for his share of credit in discovering the
 
 284 -MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 rich deposits of copper, and related his experi- 
 ences. It seemed that the young colonels could 
 never be satisfied with asking questions about the 
 people they had known. The current of talk ran 
 freely ; and probably in all the field there were 
 not four men whose hearts were so knit together, 
 so thoroughly in sympathy, so prepared to meet 
 the inevitable for themselves, and so eager to aid 
 each other. 
 
 The hour was late. All were in need of sleep. 
 With the exchange of fervent good-nights, good 
 wishes, and sweet messages, they separated, and 
 Mr. Prescott and Amory were conducted to the 
 tent where they were to lie down ; but of actual 
 sleep they had little. The situation was novel, 
 the events of the day had been exciting, and the 
 future was too full of contingencies to allow their 
 minds to rest. 
 
 Amory looked out at the stars on the northern 
 part of the horizon, and wondered if Mary Pres- 
 cott could be looking at them too. Mr. Prescott 
 closed his eyes, but could not still the pounding 
 of his heart and the answering throbs in his 
 brain.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 285 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 THE events of this chapter belong to history. 
 It is to be hoped that the historic Muse will in 
 due time bestir herself to gather and put them in 
 order. The heroes who acted their parts in the 
 momentous scene are soon to pass away. The 
 best accounts thus far published are in news- 
 papers ; and they are inadequate, often conflict- 
 ing, and perhaps partial. They are yet to be 
 compared, sifted^ ^and harmonized. Compared 
 with battles like those of Gettysburg, Antietam, 
 and the Wilderness, this action in Florida appears 
 very small ; yet to each man who faced the foe, 
 the ordeal was as terrible, and the stake as great, 
 as when the line of fire was measured by miles. 
 
 As our friends Prescott and Amory were far 
 in the rear, we shall endeavor by and by to look 
 at the battle with the eyes of some, still living, 
 who were among the prominent actors. 
 
 The camp was in motion at an early hour. Ra- 
 tions had been served, and animals fed, and the 
 forces began to move in three lines, parallel with a 
 railroad-track, across a level country. The cavalry 
 started half an hour in advance. Col. Robert's 
 regiment was near the centre of the little army,
 
 286 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 and Col. Roderick's in the rear. Mr. Prescott 
 and Mr. Amory had made the acquaintance of 
 members of the Commissions, those Good Samari- 
 tans whose generous efforts did so much to alle- 
 viate the sufferings of the wounded in battle, and 
 who have given a far higher than any military 
 renown to the American name. These camp-fol- 
 lowers, so unlike the dregs of armies of other 
 days, rode in ambulances and walked by turns. 
 But one short halt was called during the morn- 
 ing. About noon, while the troops were resting 
 and taking a hurried meal, there was heard the 
 solid thunder of brass field-pieces, and then the 
 distant, clattering sound of musketry. The troops 
 were urged forward with all speed; yet, as the 
 regiments were generally a mile apart, it was 
 some hours before the last came into the action. 
 
 The brigade of cavalry was very small in num- 
 bers, but composed of veteran troops, and was 
 cDmmanded by Col. Guy V. Henry of the Forti- 
 eth Massachusetts Regiment of Mounted Infantry. 
 Major Stevens of the First Battalion of Massachu- 
 setts Cavalry led the advance. The skirmishers 
 were under Capt. W. A. Smith of the Fortieth, 
 whose company was the first to open fire, and the 
 last to leave the field. The behavior of the cavalry 
 was worthy of the highest praise throughout the 
 day. They were eating their hard-bread, and feed- 
 ing their horses when they were fired upon by a 
 company of mounted skirmishers. The fire was 
 returned, and our cavalry pressed forward, driv-
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 287 
 
 ing back the enemy for nearly two miles to the 
 place where the railroad crosses the sand road, 
 and where two or three poor houses form what 
 is called Olustee. It was at this crossing that 
 the trap had been set ; and the company of rebel 
 cavalry had been sent forward to skirmish and to 
 retreat, with a view of drawing our regiments, 
 one after another, under the fire of their whole 
 line. 
 
 The forces under Gen. Finnegan, from nine 
 thousand to twelve thousand in number, were 
 disposed on each side of the railroad-track in an 
 eccentric curve, one wing resting upon the shore 
 of "a pond, while the other stretched around, under 
 cover of bushes, to a heavily-wooded cypress 
 swamp. Earthworks were thrown up on the 
 exposed parts of the line, and batteries were 
 planted to sweep the roads. Perfectly sheltered 
 from musketry, and inaccessible to cavalry, the 
 enemy's converging fire was awfully destructive. 
 
 The Seventh Connecticut Regiment of Gen. 
 Hawley's brigade had come up with the cavalry, 
 and moved on towards the enemy's impregnable 
 position. Elder's and Hamilton's batteries of 
 light artillery followed. At the outset, not much 
 effect was produced, except by our field-pieces. 
 More batteries were sent for, and the remaining 
 regiments ordered up. The Seventh Connecticut 
 was a splendid regiment, armed with Spencer 
 rifles, and behaved with gallantry. The Seventh 
 New-Hampshire, Col. Abbott, which had had a
 
 288 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 high reputation in previous actions, was not so 
 fortunate this day, and began to waver. At this 
 moment the Eighth United-States Regiment of 
 colored troops came forward, under Col. Fribley. 
 These men had never been under fire ; but they 
 held their ground with determined bravery for 
 considerably more than an hour, until the colonel 
 and more than half the men were killed and dis- 
 abled, when the remnant fell back in disorder. 
 
 The battle was now waged in terrible earnest. 
 Langdon's battery had come up to the front with 
 the Eighth (colored troops), and had been par- 
 tially covered by them. The confusion and 
 retreat of the Eighth left the batteries of Lang- 
 don and Hamilton uncovered ; and the fire of 
 the enemy, especially of the sharpshooters, was 
 directed upon the artillerists and horses with 
 deadly effect. In a quarter of an hour there 
 were not horses enough left to draw the guns ; 
 and later, when our troops fell back upon a new 
 line, four or five guns had to be left in the posses- 
 sion of the enemy. 
 
 The New- York brigade, under Gen. Barton, 
 which included Col. Robert's regiment, next came 
 on, and fought with resolute bravery. The dis- 
 heartening thing was to be under an incessant 
 and withering fire, which could not be silenced 
 nor effectively returned while the enemy kept 
 in its well-protected line.- 
 
 Gen. Seymour, who had the responsibility of 
 the expedition, arrived at the front soon after
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 289 
 
 Gen. Hawley. He saw too late that the army 
 had been decoyed and led to slaughter, and he 
 made superhuman exertions to save it from total 
 defeat. He made the best possible disposition of 
 his limited forces, as each new occasion required. 
 The batteries were managed with consummate 
 skill. When the lines of battle were thinned, he 
 sent forward new troops, until there were no more. 
 He was on foot with the New-York regiments 
 while they were at the front, in the very hottest 
 of the fire, and exposed himself with heroic 
 unconcern. 
 
 At this time the cavalry and mounted infantry 
 were stationed behind some bushes on the enemy's 
 flank, out of the action. They desired and ex- 
 pected an order to charge, and were especially 
 chagrined not to receive it when, later, the enemy 
 came out of their line of defence, and made a 
 forward movement. Capt. Smith of the Fortieth 
 went to Gen. Seymour while he was dismounted 
 and in the thick of the fight, and asked that the 
 order to charge might be given ; but the general 
 was unwilling to risk it. He probably had be- 
 come convinced that it was impossible to change 
 the fate of the day against an enemy whose 
 effective forces were more than double his own. 
 
 The losses of the New- York brigade were se- 
 vere. The ammunition was giving out, and the 
 lines were wavering, when the two remaining regi- 
 ments of colored troops, including Col. Robert's, 
 were ordered to move. These defiled in front of
 
 290 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 the white regiments, and received, for a time, the 
 whole fire of the enemy. 
 
 At this moment a grand stroke was planned by 
 the rebel commander, and that was to break our 
 line by a furious assault. His cavalry first at- 
 tempted to move (perhaps as a feint), but was 
 immediately confronted by ours. There was no 
 advance on either side, and the forces sat facing 
 each other in silence for a time. But the rebel 
 infantry rushed forward with a shout, formed in 
 solid column by Echelon, and came towards the 
 centre of our line at double-quick. The black 
 men stood their ground ; and meanwhile Elder's 
 battery, which was planted so as to give a volley on 
 a diagonal line at the column, opened a terrific fire 
 with canister at short range. It was the only 
 opportunity our side had during the day to give 
 the enemy as good as he had sent. The column 
 did not hold together to deal the decisive blow : it 
 was frightfully cut up, and its advance checked. 
 The rebel general had expected to turn the defeat 
 into a rout and a massacre ; but the unexpected 
 fire of the battery at such an angle as to enfilade 
 the advancing column, and the determined brave- 
 ry of the black men, saved our troops from any 
 worse disaster. The negroes charged back, and 
 even recaptured some of the guns which had been 
 left on the field. They fought like demons, and 
 even believed for a time they were to retrieve our 
 fortunes. It was too late. Their officers were all 
 killed or disabled, and their numbers too small to 
 continue the fight.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 291 
 
 Three times during the battle the lines of our 
 troops were re-formed, and each time a little far- 
 ther back. While this last and most desperate 
 fighting was going on, Gen. Seymour was col- 
 lecting his few shattered forces in the rear in 
 order to save his transportation, to care for his 
 wounded, and to retreat still farther. At sun- 
 down the enemy ceased firing suddenly. Another 
 rally and another charge were expected, but none 
 came. 
 
 The negro regiments were recalled, and fell 
 back without a single mounted officer. One brave 
 young fellow whom Mr. Prescott had known from 
 a boy, and for whom he had brought a new uni- 
 form from his father, was among the fallen. The 
 uniform was at Hilton Head ; and the gallant 
 youth was left on the field, to recover afterwards, 
 as best he could, under the tender care of the 
 military nurses of Andersonville. 
 
 A parting volley was sent into the woods from 
 our batteries. The Seventh Connecticut, alert, and 
 resolute to the end, formed last of the infantry ; 
 the cavalry closed in the rear; and the broken and 
 dispirited army began its march back towards 
 Jacksonville. The enemy's cavalry made some 
 dashes occasionally, but no effective pursuit. 
 Such is the brief outline of the disastrous battle 
 of Olustee. Finnegan had been as good as his 
 word. 
 
 When the first surprise of the attack was over, 
 and the wounded began to be brought to the rear,
 
 292 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 Mr. Prescott and Amory naturally and eagerly vol- 
 unteered their help ; and for those three terrible 
 hours, which seemed an eternity of pain and ap- 
 prehension, they gave refreshments, bandaged 
 wounds, cheered the drooping, and soothed the 
 dying. More and more wounded were brought in, 
 until all the resources of the camp were insuffi- 
 cient for their relief. If there had not .been some- 
 thing for these non-combatants to do, the suspense 
 would have been insupportable. Where was 
 Robert now? and Roderick? Perhaps they were 
 stretched on that sandy plain, trampled by hurry- 
 ing feet of men and horses. 
 
 More than once the hospital tents had to be 
 moved back ; for the missiles of the enemy, as they 
 came nearer, whistled among the surgeons, and 
 wounded some of the volunteer helpers. Neither 
 Mr. Prescott nor Amory flinched. They toiled the 
 harder, pulling off their coats, and laboring until 
 they were dissolved in perspiration. News came 
 momently from the front by those who brought 
 in the wounded. First it was Henry's cavalry 
 that was swept away like chaff; and here was a 
 trooper, shot through the neck and shoulder, 
 whose face was strangely familiar. They remem- 
 bered him as a hostler at the little tavern iu 
 Eaglemont. He opened his eyes at the sound of 
 familiar voices. " Tell mother, " he said with fal- 
 tering voice, then took off his watch, or tried to, 
 and closed his eyes forever. He lies on the fatal 
 field with hundreds more. Both the friends wept 
 over the fate of the bright and cheerful boy.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 293 
 
 Every messenger brought fresh tidings of disas- 
 ter. It was all one way. All was darkness and 
 death. 
 
 When the repulse of the New-York brigade was 
 announced, with what eager eyes did the friends 
 scan the faces on the stretchers ! It was with per* 
 petual shudders that they looked, every moment 
 fearing that the noble features of Robert would be 
 disclosed. They eagerly questioned all who came, 
 but to little purpose. No one had any certain 
 knowledge, except that half of all the regiments 
 were struck, and that nothing could be known as 
 to the survivors until the fight was over. It is 
 not easy to account for all the names on the roll 
 of a demoralized and retreating troop. However, 
 they knew Robert had not been known to be 
 wounded, and they trusted that " no news " might 
 be " good news." So they redoubled their efforts. 
 Water was the great need, and there was none 
 except in the stagnant pond covered by the Con- 
 federate fire. This made the sufferings of the 
 wounded insupportable. 
 
 After a while the wounded of the Eighth United- 
 States Colored Regiment were carried by to the 
 place assigned for their own division. Many of 
 them were singing strains from spiritual songs, 
 as if only music and religion could lessen their 
 pangs. 
 
 At last, when the colored regiments with terri- 
 ble loss had withstood the rebel charge, and the 
 main body of the army was re-formed, and ready
 
 294 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 to march, Amory rushed out to learn the fate of 
 Roderick. A straggler said that the negro regi- 
 ments had come back without their officers ; that 
 there was not a horse left ; all were bowled down. 
 
 " The colonel too ? " inquired Amory. 
 
 "Yes," said the informant, "dead on the 
 field." 
 
 " Are you sure ? " 
 
 " Sure. And two of his men who tried to carry 
 him off were shot dead, and fell upon him Avhere 
 he lay." 
 
 Still Amory could not fully believe it, although 
 the news seemed so direct. He met a reporter for 
 a New-York journal, one who had been exposed 
 to fire for the whole time. He was an English- 
 man, short in stature, and planted in a pair of 
 immensely tall leather boots. It was not an heroic 
 figure, and Amory could hardly help smiling in 
 spite of the terrible situation. 
 
 "Have you seen Col. Prescott of the colored 
 regiment ? " Amory inquired. 
 
 The little man looked up. To the honor of 
 human nature, two large tears bubbled out of his 
 blue eyes, and with a faltering voice he answered, 
 
 " Yes, I have seen him, on the field dead. 
 All the officers of the th are killed, including 
 my young friend Major Melrose." 
 
 It was with a heavy heart that Amory went 
 back to the hospital tent to carry the fatal news 
 to Mr. Prescott. A very few words sufficed. 
 The tears of women and children fall easily, one
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 295 
 
 might sometimes say naturally ; but the anguish 
 of a mature and reserved man is terrible to behold. 
 
 There was little time for mourning. The well, 
 and all who could keep on their feet, must march ; 
 for the army was in full retreat. Stores and 
 officers' baggage were burned, so that the wounded 
 might be carried ; for their number was so great 
 that there were not enough ambulances. The hea- 
 vy army-wagons jolted and tortured the wretched 
 beings they carried ; and, with every vehicle in 
 use, large numbers of the dying had to be left 
 to breathe their last where they lay. 
 
 Before it was quite dark, Mr. Prescott met an 
 officer who knew Roderick, and he had the mel- 
 ancholy satisfaction of finding that his port- 
 manteau was saved, and in the care of the acting 
 quartermaster. But the brave young man was 
 struck down beyond a doubt. It was hard to 
 realize it: he had been so full of life in the morn- 
 ing. Did he not have a premonition? Was it 
 not this that inspired his affectionate reference to 
 his mother, his singular and oppressive generosity 
 to Col. Robert, and his thoughtful care of his 
 stepfather ? And now he lay upon his last field ! 
 How could the news be told to his mother? 
 
 Part of the army marched nine miles, and then 
 halted. Other regiments reached Barber's Sta- 
 tion, on the South Fork of St. Mary's River, 
 accomplishing thirty-four miles in going and 
 returning, besides having had three hours and a 
 half of stubborn fighting. But the track of the
 
 296 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 army was marked by the knapsacks, guns, and 
 blankets thrown away. After a time, a train of 
 cars and a locomotive were found, and the 
 wounded were put aboard. But the locomotive 
 broke down ; and the men of a Massachusetts col- 
 ored regiment, wearied and suffering as they were, 
 volunteered to push the train on to Jacksonville. 
 
 What a dismal retreat ! the army had been 
 beaten, and was bleeding at every pore, its stores 
 and most of its guns captured or abandoned, its 
 dead left on the sand} r plain or by the roadside, 
 and its dying hurried on without water, without 
 rest, without medical care. The whole night 
 passed before all the scattered men found their 
 places, and the losses could be known. Men con- 
 tinually came in who had crawled off the battle- 
 field during the night. The negroes especially 
 exhibited the stoicism of old 'campaigners, and 
 made light of their wounds, even when frightfully 
 mangled. 
 
 Shortly after dark, Mr. Prescott and Amory, 
 while trying to eat their " hard-tack " without the 
 aid of coffee, had the unspeakable satisfaction 
 of seeing Col. Robert come into camp on foot. 
 His horse had been killed, and he was near being 
 captured ; but he lay motionless a while, and then 
 escaped unhurt, and found his way back with 
 other stragglers. 
 
 We will not attempt to describe the weary 
 night, nor the comfortless march of the day that 
 followed.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 297 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 As the reader remembers, Miss Thorpe and 
 Phoebe, on landing at Hilton Head, were so fortu- 
 nate as to meet an old friend, Col. Hunt, an officer 
 who was stationed at Beaufort. By his advice 
 they determined to go with him to that place, 
 where he assured them they would find pleasant 
 society, and more comfortable living than at the 
 great military and naval depot. He attended to 
 all their wants, and accompanied them to the pro- 
 vost-marshal's for the purpose of having their 
 passports viseed. Then the party went on board 
 "The Croton," an ancient and dilapidated river 
 steamer from New York. 
 
 It was a sail of about fifteen miles, occupying an 
 hour and a half. The landscape was full of strange 
 beauty to Northern eyes. A soft arid dreamy 
 haze overhung the estuary. Live-oak groves 
 with their outstretched arms stood in picturesque 
 clumps on either hand. Avenues of magnolias 
 were seen leading to the old plantations from the 
 water-side. Here and there a few feathery and 
 twisted palmettos, looking as if they had the 
 worst of it in some tussle with the wind, and 
 larger groups of the straight and towering pines,
 
 298 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 relieved the monotonous level. The scenery was 
 neither that of winter nor of summer; for the 
 foliage was heavy, dark green, and glossy. The 
 trees were hung with abundant drapery of moss : 
 it swung in festoons, it hung in tatters, it was 
 packed in crows' nests. 
 
 The town of Beaufort, with its white houses 
 and fine trees, looked charming from the water, 
 though it was less attractive to our travellers 
 upon a nearer view. But jonquils, hyacinths, and 
 tulips in bloom, were in all the yards ; and the 
 windows under wide verandas were open to admit 
 the delicious air. That was paradise after the 
 pitiless storms of the north Atlantic coast. 
 
 Col. Hunt went to the quartermaster, and pro- 
 cured two confiscated "secesh" horses; and for 
 the first time in their lives the two ladies enjoyed 
 the surprise of being on horseback. As the jaded 
 animals did not go out of a walk, there were no 
 adventures by the way. It was about six miles to 
 the famous Smith plantation. Their ride was 
 mostly on the beach, sweeping around a long curve, 
 over a firm, white surface of sea-beaten sand. The 
 tide had just receded, and the marks of the horses' 
 hoofs were like sculpture. They had the fresh sea- 
 air on one side, and were protected on the other 
 from the sun by a superb belt of pine-trees stand- 
 ing on the bluff above. On their way they 
 stopped for a moment at the remains of the old 
 fort built by the Huguenots under Jean Ribaut, 
 in 1562, which readers of our romantic historian,
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 299 
 
 Parkraan, will remember. The foundation-walls 
 of concrete shells were in good preservation. At 
 the Smith plantation are the grandest live-oaks 
 known, those in the Bonaventure Cemetery at 
 Savannah alone excepted. Miss Thorpe remarked 
 that she did not wonder the Druids worshipped 
 under oaks. Col. Hunt said the effect was so 
 solemn under the enormous spread of living green, 
 with moss hanging like tattered historic banners 
 from the roof, that he always instinctively took off 
 his hat, as if he were entering a cathedral. 
 
 They alighted at the gate, and saw a house much 
 like the home of a wealthy farmer in the Middle 
 States. The negroes within the enclosure, the 
 same all over the world, happy, red-turbaned, 
 gay-shawled, chattering creatures, came out to 
 look, and then rushed into the house with the 
 news. 
 
 Col. Hunt and the ladies were met by the occu- 
 pants, educated and noble women who had 
 come to teach the " contrabands." There were 
 hearty introductions and hospitable welcomes. In 
 a very few minutes Miss Thorpe and Phoebe were 
 at home with congenial people. 
 
 Promising to attend to forwarding their bag- 
 gage, Col. Hunt rode back to Beaufort. No de- 
 tention had occurred on their journey: their 
 progress had been as steady and frictionless as the 
 launching of a ship. " To him who is shod, it is 
 the same as if the earth were covered with leath- 
 er;" and the two shy and delicate women had
 
 300 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 passed through camps as if they had been driven 
 through a park. 
 
 Phoebe looked radiant. She was somewhat 
 thinner than in her best estate ; but her color had 
 returned, and her hair was so loosely confined, that 
 wavy tresses fell over her shoulders. Here it 
 was possible for her to be in the open air all day. 
 Here came the sense of freedom, the joy of mo 
 tion, the delight in new. flowers and in the bound 
 less opulence of nature. This and much more wah 
 evident in her sparkling eyes and in her extrava- 
 gant speech. It seemed as if she enjoyed every 
 sight with an intensity of satisfaction like that of 
 a person suddenly brought out of blindness into a 
 garden. 
 
 Here Miss Thorpe and Phoebe found a charm- 
 ing home. They were surrounded with comforts. 
 They were overwhelmed in hospitality. Their 
 windows let in the fragrance of spring. The skies 
 above and the earth beneath seemed to belong to 
 another world. Their walks were bordered with 
 lovely and fragrant but (to them) unnamed shrubs. 
 They loitered by ponds whose edges were bristling 
 with Spanish-bayonet. Huge cactus-plants, with 
 lobes as large as shoulders of mutton, sprawled 
 around. Enormous Mexican aloes bent their 
 graceful leaves. A few steps took them to the 
 beach to see the sandpipers, and to hear the mel- 
 ancholy plaint of the curlew and the ceaseless 
 clatter of the water-hens. 
 
 Ah, what a rest for an invalid ! What an 
 ecstasy for an enthusiast like Phoebe !
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 301 
 
 But in intervals of repose Miss Thorpe felt that 
 something unspoken rested upon Phoebe's mind. 
 She could see the forerunners of thought and feel- 
 ing in her looks ; and the girl's lips seemed mov- 
 ing as if to utter something. But she did not 
 speak. A singular change would come; and she 
 would remain silent, or else refer to some unim- 
 portant matter. 
 
 " Why do you not say what you are thinking ? " 
 said Miss Thorpe, when they were together. 
 " How much we talked of the awful news before 
 we sailed ! Is that what you are brooding over ? " 
 
 " I seem to have been led here," Phcebe replied. 
 " I have dreamed things I cannot relate in order. 
 They are confusing. But I think Roderick is not 
 dead, as we heard ; and I hope we shall see him. 
 I have seen him in dreams. I have seen also other 
 friends and many strange things." 
 
 Except for the absence of Mr. Prescott, Phcebe 
 appeared perfectly happy. The teachers with whom 
 she was living were women of energy and charac- 
 ter, refined and accomplished. They had all come 
 from comfortable Northern homes, and had de- 
 voted themselves to the wants of the soldiers in 
 hospitals, and to the education of the colored 
 people, with unselfish zeal. 
 
 Miss Thorpe recovered from her cough, and was 
 as joyous and demonstrative as was possible for 
 one so instinctively -serene. 
 
 There were nearly fifty ladies at the post in and 
 around Beaufort, including the wives and daugh-
 
 302 ^ MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 ters of officers, and the teachers and guests. Tea- 
 parties were given, excursions were planned, and 
 there were v often rambles by the river-side. The 
 officers were from nearly all sections of the coun- 
 try j but Col.. Hunt was easily superior in manners, 
 in intellect, and knowledge. Miss Thorpe said he 
 had the brow of Sir Walter Raleigh and the bear- 
 ing of Sir Philip Sidney. But then she had met 
 him at the Plato Club ; and it has been thought 
 barely possible that the members of that Olympian 
 circle may see each other looming up to miracu- 
 lous stature. Certainly no more accomplished or 
 more agreeable gentleman ever buckled on a 
 sword. He was a tower of strength to our two 
 ladies, and almost made them think that the war 
 had no excuse for being, except as it furnished 
 them a perfect sanitarium in the midst of the most 
 vivid scenery in nature. 
 
 The 22d of February was approaching, and it 
 was proposed that the birthday of Washington 
 should be celebrated in such splendor as was pos- 
 sible. Upon a strong appeal to the great func- 
 tionaries, an immense storehouse was cleared of 
 its stock of hay and straw, and put in a state of 
 cleanliness. Some tin-workers were found among 
 the soldiers, who made from tomato- cans a set of 
 gorgeous chandeliers, fitted to hold kerosene-lamps. 
 Foraging parties daily went out into the woods, 
 vast numbers of them, and were on the lookout 
 for what was beautiful or strange. Ladies came 
 daily to combine the harvest of evergreens into
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 303 
 
 striking and artistic forms. The post band prac- 
 tised music for quadrilles and waltzes. When all 
 was ready, this hastily-built pine structure, adorned 
 as it was, became the most magnificent ball-room 
 ever seen. A profusion of evergreens, oak-leaves, 
 magnolias, and bearded moss, hung in festoons from 
 the rafters, and coiled about the beams, braces, 
 and supports. Clusters of Spanish-bayonet imi- 
 tated the display in an armory. The music-stand 
 became a green bower. Leaves of palmetto waved 
 like gigantic ostrich-feathers. And through all 
 the rich, deep, and dense green, were set points of 
 color, where some jessamine, or tulip, or peach-bud 
 showed that the sun's call to the spring blossoms 
 was beginning to be felt. This enormous mass of 
 greenery so arranged, so alive with gold and rose- 
 color, and illuminated with such splendor, made 
 an impression that no beholder will ever forget. 
 
 The triumphs of dressmaking were hardly to be 
 looked for in a remote military post, to which it 
 was not allowed for each lady to carry a wagon- 
 load of Saratoga trunks. But clever and ingen- 
 ious women will hardly ever be seen at a disad- 
 tage, if there is only a little time for preparation. 
 Very few of those who were present at that ball 
 probably thought of such a contingency, certainly 
 our Phoebe did not. But as a few wild blossoms 
 gave the grace of contrast to the masses of green 
 upholstery, so a bit of rich lace, a bright ribbon, 
 a Roman scarf, or wrought collar, made even plain 
 costumes attractive ; and few except those expe-
 
 304 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 rienced in such matters would have said that the 
 whole party had not brought their richest attire 
 along with them. 
 
 Phoebe had been so depressed in mind, that, at 
 starting, she had packed few except the most 
 necessary clothes. Miss Thorpe, who did not 
 dance, was more thoughtful ; and as she foresaw 
 that Phoebe's gloom would wear away, and that 
 some fit occasion might arise, she had brought 
 along for her a superb dress of corn-colored silk 
 with black velvet trimmings, the appropriate laces, 
 and the coral ornaments. 
 
 All the ladies came to the ball in ambulances. 
 The ensemble was unexpectedly brilliant. The 
 general commanding led off the dance with his 
 lady. As Miss Thorpe declined to go upon the 
 floor except as a spectator, Col. Hunt offered his 
 arm to Phoebe. There was a general murmur of 
 admiration as she moved across the hall. Her 
 stature, her brilliant eyes, exquisite color, perfect 
 carriage, and magnificent costume, would have 
 attracted attention in any court. 
 
 During the evening the officers, for there were 
 but few civilians present, flocked about for intro- 
 ductions ; and our Phoebe conducted herself with 
 her usual sweet discretion. 
 
 " Favors to none, to all she smiles extends ; 
 Oft she rejects, but never once offends." 
 
 Later, while sipping coffee with Col. Hunt, Miss 
 Thorpe noticed Phoebe going forward, with a tall
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 305 
 
 and athletic officer as her partner, in the " Lan- 
 cers." That showy quadrille had not then been 
 put under ban. The lively music struck up, and 
 the large hall resounded with martial steps. Some 
 jar occurred. Was there a tipsy musician? a 
 dancer out of step ? No : there was a little flurry 
 about the music-stand. Miss Thorpe looked 
 eagerly. Col. Hunt raised his stately head also. 
 Both felt a simultaneous shock. Miss Thorpe's 
 heart stood still ; and she trembled violently, as 
 the general commanding, emerging from the flur- 
 ried group, mounted the stand and spoke in a 
 dismal tone. It took several seconds, shall we 
 say? for the musicians and the surging crowd 
 on the floor to stop, and to concentrate their 
 attention upon the general. They were like per- 
 sons suddenly roused from sleep. In those few 
 seconds many thoughts flitted by. The first 
 notion was, that the town was attacked, although 
 the gunboats kept up their steady patrol day and 
 night, moving through dull creeks and lagoons, and 
 entirely surrounding the town. But the gloomy 
 voice of the general at length pierced the dis- 
 tracted air, and the gayety of the scene was dead. 
 The purport of his message was, that our forces 
 in Florida had met with a great disaster ; that the 
 steamer " Cosmopolitan " had just arrived at the 
 wharf, bringing a large number of wounded and 
 dying ; that the help of every man was needed at 
 once ; that the ambulances were required at the 
 wharf, and the ladies must walk home ; that the
 
 306 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 wounded men would be carried past the ball-room 
 on their way to the hospital, and the general 
 thought they ought not to hear the sound of 
 dancing music. 
 
 It was a wild, agitated throng. Ladies whose 
 husbands were away on the fatal expedition 
 shrieked and fainted. Officers hurried to get the 
 ladies' wraps, and to arrange for their going home 
 in squads. The ambulances were hurriedly hitched 
 up, and rattled away. Musicians picked up their 
 horns, and ran to help. The chaplain looked as 
 if he thought it a fit time to offer prayer ; but he 
 was disregarded, and hustled about like an old 
 woman. In less time than these sentences can be 
 read, the whole company had dispersed. Women 
 hurried home, satin-slippered, weeping and moan- 
 ing ; and every able-bodied man was on his way 
 to the wharf. 
 
 When Miss Thorpe first observed Phoebe in 
 the " Lancers/' dancing with the athletic officer, 
 and saw her at that dreadful moment pause with 
 her partner, she noticed her face becoming lumi- 
 nously pale, and her eyes fixed, as if on an appari- 
 tion of the dead. The next minute she had disap- 
 peared. With a strong grasp on her partner's 
 arm, she said, " Come ! my wraps, the ambulance, 
 quick ! to be first at the wharf, first ! " 
 
 Like lightning, they flew to the shawls. Her 
 own was flung about her, and out they rushed to 
 an ambulance. The driver did not spare the 
 mules, but lashed and swore, and they flew all the
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 307 
 
 way as if they were winged with curses. The 
 officer did not question Phoebe at first, so fierce 
 and sudden was her approach ; but now he begged 
 her to desist. He assured her she did not know 
 what she was going to see ; that she could not 
 bear it ; that it would utterly overcome her ; that 
 she was insufficiently clothed for the night air, 
 and that her slippers were no protection against 
 the damp ground. He begged, implored her to 
 turn back. 
 
 " I am going to that steamboat," she said more 
 calmly. 
 
 The great white side of the steamer was 
 against the wharf. Men stood with iron jacks 
 of pitch-pine, burning fiercely, and giving a lurid 
 light on the scene. At the gangways, inclined 
 planks were placed, and on the deck and by the 
 stairs stood soldiers with spectral lanterns. As 
 the wounded were seen under the wild and glan- 
 cing lights, it was like searching out the outlines 
 of some dying figure that seems to be writhing 
 in a dusky picture painted centuries ago. The 
 work of removal had barely begun when Phoebe 
 and the officer reached the wharf. The crowd 
 gathered momently, the soldiers, sutlers, and 
 negro servants full of curiosity and of dread. 
 But Phoebe would not yield: so the officer got a 
 box and placed her on it, that she might see. A 
 sharp groan was heard ; and the officer renewed 
 his entreaty : " Leave, I pray you, leave this hor- 
 rible place ! " She was silent. The voice of the
 
 308 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 sufferer, by one of those modulations unknown to 
 musical art, and acquired only by divine grace, 
 seemed to change itself, and to escape from the 
 burden of pain it was bearing, and to turn its wild 
 anguish into the sweetest note, the prelude of a 
 melodious strain of praise to the Redeemer. It 
 was a sudden and instant appeal to the heart. 
 The pulsations of that tone must have stirred the 
 air of heaven. 
 
 " O Phoabe," exclaimed Miss Thorpe, who with 
 Col. Hunt had now arrived, "why have you 
 come here ? Do you wish to die ? Will you 
 break my heart ? Come, let us go. There are 
 men enough to help, men. It is no place for 
 you, so lately an invalid.'' 
 
 Col. Hunt added his earnest admonitions. But 
 she was inflexible. 
 
 So the ghastly sufferers were brought ashore 
 on stretchers, men with every form of injury : 
 some were dying ; some were dead ; some were 
 happily insensible. 
 
 As new groups appeared, bringing some new 
 horror, Phoebe looked at each for one instant 
 only, and then turned her face away. 
 
 Col. Hunt, Miss Thorpe, and the officer were 
 thinking of carrying her off by force. The num- 
 ber of the wounded was very large, and their 
 removal would take hours. It was now near one 
 o'clock. A couple of men emerged from the 
 darkness ; one elderly, and rather stout, the other 
 sljort, arid, brisk in movement. The light flashed
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 309 
 
 on them, and Phoebe exclaimed with delight. Mr. 
 Prescott heard her cry, then rushed towards her, 
 and embraced her with tears and kisses. 
 
 "But, my darling," he said, "here this awful 
 night! O Miss Thorpe, and my good friend 
 Col. Hunt, let us leave here ! Let us go to the 
 nearest house : I am sick of wounds ; I am dying 
 with the pain I cannot help. My flesh is quiver- 
 ing as I see those gashes. Oh, my God ! " 
 
 " First tell me," said Phoebe, " is Roderick liv- 
 ing?" 
 
 " Yes : I hope he is." 
 
 " Then he is not on board. But who came in 
 charge of this boat ? " 
 
 " Col. Prescott." 
 
 " Did you not say he was not on board ? 
 
 " Col. Roderick Preseott is not : this Col. Pres- 
 cott is another person." 
 
 Here Amory disappeared in the shadow, but 
 presently came within hearing. 
 
 " Come, my darling," said Mr. Prescott, " let 
 us go to the general's house and have our talk. 
 I will have the other Col. Prescott follow us." 
 
 She made him no answer; but, looking steadily 
 beyond him, she exclaimed, 
 
 "Mr. Amory, come, let me shake your hand. 
 You are a good and a brave man. Who is there 
 behind you ? " 
 
 The group of faces was strangely lighted up as 
 Ainory with manly pride stepped forward and 
 took the proffered hand.
 
 310 AfAN PROPOSES. 
 
 " Dear Miss Phcebe, be strong ; for here is a 
 surprise. Colonel, please step forward." 
 
 A colonel's cap was raised, a brown-haired, sun- 
 burned man appeared. Hardship and suffering 
 had left their marks upon him ; but there was no 
 mistaking the noble features and the wonderful 
 steel-blue eyes of Robert Prescott. 
 
 Mr. Hugh Prescott and Percival Amory, who 
 had come on the boat with the newly-found colo- 
 nel, had a sympathetic delight in the surprise of 
 Phcebe and Miss Thorpe ; and as the vivid signs 
 of feeling trembled over the women's faces, their 
 joy growing intense, until its ecstasy was like a 
 pain, the men looked on with answering emo- 
 tion, their sterner features at play with smiles, 
 and then struggling in more rigid lines, until 
 tears welled out of their eyes Under the fitful 
 light of the torches, Phcebe was pale as marble. 
 She held to Mr. Prescott with a spasmodic grasp ; 
 while Miss Thorpe, who feared a return of insan- 
 ity, supported her on the other side. 
 
 After the first shock was over, Col. Robert was 
 the only one who made any pretence to composure. 
 Swift questions flew. Answers followed in brief 
 words interpreted b} ? quick glances. But not a 
 moment had passed before the elder of the party 
 saw the necessity of removing Phoebe from a scene 
 that was making such a strain upon her sensibili- 
 ties. Both he and Miss Thorpe interposed, and 
 insisted upon her going to the house. Col. Robert 
 was invited to accompany them ; but, pointing to
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 311 
 
 the ghastly procession that was still slowly coming 
 up from the cabin, he said, " You would all despise 
 me if I left my post. I must stay here until the 
 last man is put into the ambulance. I shall see 
 you at breakfast." 
 
 " You are right," said Mr. Prescott proudly. 
 ' But come and breakfast with us." 
 
 "Still faithful to duty," thought Phoebe; "al- 
 ways duty. Before, it was preaching to the hea- 
 then ; now it is care of the wounded. Is there 
 place left for love ? If his love and duty should 
 be one, what a noble lover he might be ! " Some- 
 thing like this, not in set words, perhaps, flashed 
 through her mind as Col. Robert raised his hat, 
 and in a grave, sweet tone said, " Until morning, 
 then." 
 
 The fate of Roderick was not made known to 
 the women. It was thought not best to distress 
 them until there was a certainty. 
 
 The ladies were lodged at the house used for 
 the general's headquarters. The two men were 
 entertained by the post ordnance officer, a great 
 hearted and enthusiastic young man from a West- 
 ern State. He accompanied the whole party, so 
 as to give the countersign to the black sentinels, 
 whose rapid challenges and quickly levelled guns 
 were sometimes terrifying, even to their superior 
 officers. 
 
 As for Robert, his watch lasted until the stars 
 began to pale in the east ; when, going below, he 
 flung himself into his berth, wrapped in his blan- 
 ket, for a few hours' repose.
 
 312 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 IT was under a wide veranda on the sunny side, 
 looking out upon a spacious but neglected garden 
 surrounded by an overgrown and ragged hedge, 
 that our re-united friends sat the morning after 
 the ball. The great gate on the line with the 
 street, with flanking pillars surmounted by glossy, 
 black eight-inch shells, showed that this was the 
 headquarters of the ordnance department. Few 
 flowers grow where war sets its iron hoof; yet 
 through the decayed vegetation of the old year, 
 the timid white and pink and yellow blossoms were 
 putting out their pretty heads, and the chattering 
 birds were building nests in the garden trees. 
 
 Miss Thorpe and Phoebe, for whom a supply 
 of clothing had been brought from their lodgings, 
 were reposing in huge rustic chairs. They had 
 come over from the general's house to meet their 
 long-lost friends. Mr. Prescott was perched on a 
 stool that had once been a chair : he was still sad- 
 e} r ed but silent. Amory, seated on the floor of the 
 veranda, was swinging his legs over the edge, at 
 a safe distance above the flower-beds. Steps were 
 heard approaching the house. Phoebe's hand 
 rested in Miss Thorpe's palm, and at the sound
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 313 
 
 Miss Thorpe almost heard the bound of the girl's 
 heart. An instant later, through the pale trans- 
 lucency of her face and neck were seen the fine 
 reticulations in which the crimson flush was 
 spreading and mingling, until the whole ivory sur- 
 face had become one rosy glow. 
 
 " You love him," said Miss Thorpe with a pene- 
 trating whisper that was neither heard nor observed 
 by the others. Col. Robert and Major Royce, the 
 ordnance officer, were coming through the gate. 
 
 " You love him," said Miss Thorpe, in the same 
 tone as before, fixing a glance upon Phoabe's rich 
 color and her eager, tremulous eyes. 
 
 All rose to meet the officers. More chairs, look- 
 ing like relics of a railroad accident, were brought 
 out, and conversation became general. 
 
 While in Florida, Mr. Prescott had heard Robert 
 relate his history after his sudden departure ; but 
 he thought it better that the ladies should hear it 
 from his own lips. So, after a few general com- 
 ments upon the scenery and the novelty of the 
 surroundings at a military post, the colonel was 
 asked to give an account of himself. Conticuere 
 omnes ; and he repeated, though more fully, the 
 story we have already told. 
 
 " I know well how strange it seems to you to see 
 me in uniform ; but I hardly know how it would 
 seem for me to assume the character of a clergy- 
 man again. I think I had never before found my 
 place in the world." 
 
 It was true: he looked every inch a soldier.
 
 314 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 The shyness and reserve of the student had disap- 
 peared, and his manner was as firm and assured as 
 if he had been brought up in camp. 
 
 " Still it was no whim or fickleness that moved 
 me to enter the service. It was a paramount duty, 
 I thought." 
 
 Phoebe winced at the word. Duty was the one 
 thing he thought of. 
 
 When he mentioned his escape on horseback, 
 with a dozen of the enemy in pursuit, Phoebe 
 became intensely interested, almost beyond self- 
 control. Then, when he told of his floating down 
 the Edisto River on a log, moving only by night, 
 and lying hid in tree-tops by day, making his way 
 among reptiles, and subsisting upon raw potatoes 
 given him by some negro in hiding, she was 
 still more agitated. 
 
 Miss Thorpe remembered the fever-dreams, in 
 which Phoebe related with dramatic vividness the 
 same thrilling scenes ; and, firmly planted as she 
 was upon the basis of reason and fact, she could 
 not repress a sudden thrill at the coincidences. 
 Had those lovely eyes followed a lover, and seen 
 what was going on a thousand miles away ? 
 
 But she thought it best to change the subject. 
 " You have not told us, Mr. Prescott, about Col. 
 Roderick." 
 
 "No," he replied. "I have not seen him since 
 the morning of the battle, as he rode by at the 
 head of his regiment. He still had a bandage on 
 his arm, and there was a mark over his temple. He
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 315 
 
 had grown thin and wiry, and quite heroic too, in 
 his appearance," looking at Col. Robert. 
 
 " Yes," answered the colonel, "a very distin- 
 guished-looking officer ; a man of sterling char- 
 acter, and high reputation in the army. Poor 
 fellow ! " 
 
 " But you don't say what has become of him," 
 said Phoebe, startled anew. 
 
 " Does she love him ? " thought the colonel. 
 " Let us see how she bears it." 
 
 So, fixing his eyes upon her, he continued, 
 " After the last fatal charge made by his regi- 
 ment, I saw the men coming back without their 
 officers. There wasn't a mounted man left. I 
 inquired for Col. Roderick." Here Mr. Prescott 
 moaned, and the colonel stopped. 
 
 " Do you mean to say he is killed ? " exclaimed 
 the women in a breath. 
 
 " No, I trust not, but wounded, and a pris- 
 oner." 
 
 " You poor, dear, good man ! " sobbed Phoebe 
 upon Mr. Prescott's shoulder. " This will kill 
 his mother." And again she heard in the recesses 
 of memory, " Was it for you that I have lost my 
 son ? " Robert would have almost given his life 
 if he could have read her secret soul ; but her 
 eyes were like wells, not to be fathomed by a 
 gaze. 
 
 " Search was impossible," said Robert, " as the 
 enemy held the field, and fired at those who 
 went to look for the wounded, or to bury the
 
 316 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 dead. There were not surgeons enough, for such 
 a disaster had not been anticipated ; and that was 
 why this great boat-load of agony had to be 
 brought here. We all got back to Jacksonville 
 as well as we could. A sorry time we had. The 
 general, in consideration of the coming of my 
 uncle and friend, and that I might visit two ladies 
 whom I had known, put the steamer under my 
 charge. 
 
 " You will wonder why, with all these reports, 
 I still believe my namesake to be alive. The 
 morning we left, a rebel flag of truce came in to 
 camp to confer about prisoners. I made the 
 inquiry. k No, they had no such officer.' But 
 I found a colored servant with the party, and 
 watched my opportunity. Upon describing Rod- 
 erick to the experienced darkey, he said, ' Oh, yes ! 
 cunnle of de colored troops ! Dey,' pointing to 
 his master, ' don't count dem. Our cunnle don't 
 'low dem to be off'cers. He hurt mighty bad ; 
 but he tough: yes, he tough. He git well if dey 
 don't send him to An'sonville.' I was sure he 
 had recognized Roderick. God help him ! for his 
 captors won't." 
 
 " Poor Eleanor ! " ejaculated Mr. Prescott. 
 " Her life is bound up in him. I hope he'll get 
 home alive." 
 
 There was silence for a few moments. All 
 were thinking of the absent mother. 
 
 " We shall renew our inquiry through the next 
 flag of truce," said the colonel ; " and I hope you 
 will have good news to carry home."
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 317 
 
 " If the day could have been long enough ! If 
 no call to duty intervened ! If all the company 
 save one could be temporarily banished ! If there 
 were to be no to-morrow ! " So thought the 
 colonel, as he looked at the vision of exceeding 
 beauty just out of reach. The steamer was to 
 return at once. Only an hour of liberty was his. 
 What were her feelings towards him now ? The 
 thought went surging around in his mind ; and, 
 though he had faced many dangers, he would 
 rather encounter the whole over again than leave 
 the idol of his heart with the momentous question 
 unsettled. It wa-i an anxiety too great to be 
 borne. Perspiration came upon his broad fore- 
 head, and wet his temples. Perhaps he was 
 externally calm, but within there was a fury of 
 contending feelings. It could not continue. He 
 stepped off the veranda as calmly as he could, 
 walked about the garden, picking a blossom or 
 a shining leaf here and there, wiping his forehead 
 meanwhile. Then he walked towards the house, 
 no more tranquil at heart, and handed the bunch 
 of flowers to Phoebe. " Think of me ! " he said 
 in a soft and deep tone. 
 
 " Are you going ? " she asked tremulously. 
 
 " Yes, in an hour. Won't you walk a few min- 
 utes in the garden ? you may have some message 
 for Roderick." He was ashamed of the ebul- 
 lition of jealousy before it was off his lips. 
 
 With a look at Miss Thorpe, Phoebe stepped off 
 the veranda.
 
 318 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 " This may be my only minute," he said passion- 
 ately. "To-morrow, do you realize it? I 
 shall be with my regiment what is left of it. 
 Where next, who knows? We are only pawns in 
 this terrible game. Now, Phoebe, tell me, you 
 were surprised, but were you pleased, with the 
 change? Are you glad I entered the service?" 
 
 u I am glad you are brave, but sorry there is 
 need for so many sacrifices. I think of the 
 country as a mother mourning over her sons." 
 
 Phoebe was attentive, even alert; but her face 
 was still flushed from weeping, and a mist of sor- 
 row still dimmed her eyes. 
 
 " I did not go to the war to win you : the 
 woman I love would not be won in that way. 
 But don't think me heartless, or indifferent to the 
 fate of others, of Roderick, if I say that I 
 cannot bear the thought of going back without 
 knowing your feelings towards me." 
 
 " Oh ! in this moment, with these aching hearts 
 near us, with what is before you, how can you ? 
 I pray you, Col. Prescott, until we meet again, 
 to be satisfied with sympathy and good-will. I 
 am sorely pressed : I hardly know on what ground 
 I stand." 
 
 " Thank you for your kind words ! I have been 
 hardened in manner, perhaps, by my experiences ; 
 but you know my heart is yours. That is the 
 only hope I have, to deserve your love : otherwise 
 I should think death in battle the great prize." 
 
 " Oh ! do not talk in this wild way. How can I
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 319 
 
 listen after that dreadful experience of last night ? 
 here, encircled with a ring of fire ; with every 
 thing in the future uncertain ; with Mr. Prescott 
 sitting yonder ; with that mother away there in 
 New England Poor Roderick ! " 
 
 Robert was by no means deficient in sympathy, 
 and his sorrow for the hard lot of Roderick was 
 unaffected. But a train of thought, that reached 
 far back to that interview when his rival told him 
 he meant to win Phoebe, now took fire, and began 
 to blaze like a line of fuse leading to a magazine. 
 This unusual journey, undertaken in winter, amid 
 the scenes of actual war, with every possible dis- 
 couragement, and against all manner of obstacles, 
 undertaken not only by the step-father, but by a 
 delicate girl, what did this all portend? The 
 party had not come to search for him, the lost 
 clergyman: no, it was to see Roderick. Doubt- 
 less Phoebe had instigated it: there must nave 
 been a correspondence. Phoebe had betrayed her- 
 self; and now to his earnest plea she had only 
 responded, " Poor Roderick ! " 
 
 The very earth seemed to sink beneath him. 
 How foolish he had been not to see the meaning of 
 the journey before I The light of his life was extin- 
 guished. Fighting henceforth. He heard the 
 heavy undertone of the steam from the wharf: it 
 resounded as if it were the foundation-note of 
 some colossal organ, infernal in quality, and appall- 
 ing in its suggestions, fit accompaniment for the 
 agonizing chorus of war.
 
 320 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 He went again upon the veranda. 
 
 " You hear the signal ! My time is up : I hope 
 to come here again, if you remain long. Be sure 
 of my best efforts to find Roderick. We shall all 
 meet in happier times. God bless you ! " 
 
 With a hearty farewell to each the colonel took 
 leave. A few minutes later, from an upper win- 
 dow Phoebe saw through swimming eyes the 
 great white steamer heading southward.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 321 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 IT was a high misdemeanor to have one's house 
 open in summer, even with all the profusion of 
 grass and shrubbery that were to be seen from the 
 front windows ; and Mrs. Prescott had intended 
 to have been away with the world of fashion at 
 the seaside. - But it was now June ; and she had 
 been detained in the city, waiting for the long- 
 expected return of the two colonels. Her son 
 Roderick was now at home, and Robert was with 
 him. Roderick had been a prisoner in the stock- 
 ade at Florence, and, being apparently at death's 
 door, the Confederate officers had agreed to his 
 exchange. Robert had been ill with a fever, and, 
 besides, had been wounded, and was granted a 
 furlough. The colonels had come on from For- 
 tress Monroe together, only a few days before the 
 date of this chapter. 
 
 The luxury of sleeping in real beds they had 
 enjoyed to the uttermost, and could not be induced 
 to rise for breakfast before eleven. Then Robert, 
 who had two sound legs, helped Roderick, whose 
 knee had been shattered, down the stairway to the 
 breakfast-table that was spread for them near the 
 conservatory. And then Roderick, who had two
 
 322 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 practicable arms and hands, prepared the viands at 
 table for Robert, whose right elbow and wrist had 
 been injured by a shell. Roderick's features had 
 become as sharp as a pickerel's during his illness 
 and imprisonment, and he ate ravenously, as if on 
 a wager. Robert had grown grave, and had the 
 bearing oi a man of middle age ; or, if he had not, 
 he thought he had, which amounts to about the 
 same thing. Since his great sorrow, he had 
 schooled himself to an unusual sobriety of speech 
 and manner. The quenching of an absorbing 
 passion is not done without such an effort as 
 leaves a visible impress of the struggle. 
 
 Probably he suspected that he had been in the 
 wrong, and had proceeded without tact in his last 
 interview with Phosbe at the island. He began 
 to remember that he had accepted the theory of 
 her preference for Roderick without the least proof. 
 It might be, after all, that he had foolishly run 
 away from his own happiness. In the interval he 
 had been closely scanning that former lady-killer, 
 to observe whether there was any change in his 
 manner when the name of Phoebe was mentioned. 
 They had met once, Miss Thorpe having called 
 with Phoebe ; and Robert saw no indication of an 
 understanding, none of the glances nor flushes, 
 nor the eager speech, that betray the accepted or 
 the interested lover. It was in a happy-go-lucky 
 way that Roderick spoke of Phosbe and of every 
 other person and topic. In short, the preacher- 
 colonel began to believe that Roderick had really
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 323 
 
 renounced his pretensions, and he accused himself 
 of being a suspicious idiot. 
 
 While they were breakfasting upon lamb-chops 
 and peas, with a pint of claret between them (or- 
 dered by the doctor to save Robert's scruples), the 
 door-bell rang, and our young friend Amory rushed 
 in. The greetings were hearty, as between men 
 who had a common ground of respect and attach- 
 ment ; and, after the visitor had repressed the 
 sigh that came at the sight of their injuries, he 
 sat down by the table. 
 
 " And so you are really home again ! When I 
 heard they had you cooped up.at Florence, I feared 
 it was all up with you. And you, Robert, you are 
 rather peaked. We must have you padded and 
 rouged. Are you both out of the service ? " 
 
 " I am not," said Roderick. " When my leg is 
 better, 1 am going back to see the end of it. I 
 mean to be in at the death, if I don't get hit 
 again." 
 
 " Oh, I see ! you want a general's star. But 
 how is it with you, Robert ? " 
 
 " I haven't made up my mind. I may go back 
 to my regiment ; or I may take a place on the 
 staff ; or I may resign. I shall consult my father 
 and uncle." 
 
 " Then you'll resign, / know. Your father and 
 mother are on pins and needles about you. Your 
 mother wants you to resign, and preach." 
 
 Roderick laughed ; then, seeing the looks of 
 Amory and Robert, he said, " Oh ! Robert is good
 
 324 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 enough. He is cleaner than any chaplain in the 
 army. But a man who can handle a regiment as 
 he can, to preach ! I think not. He ought to be a 
 corps commander." 
 
 " I don't know that ability is any disqualifica- 
 tion in the Lord's service," said Robert gravely. 
 
 " Of course not. But it's one thing to rattle off 
 Scripture, and quite another to move a body of 
 men against a battery." 
 
 " What do you say ? " said Amory. 
 
 "I think," replied Robert, "that, if my duty 
 had not called me into the field, I should have been 
 glad to serve my Master as father and mother 
 wished." 
 
 " But now," said Roderick, " that you have 
 found your place among active men, you will let 
 the timid ,. scholastics do the preaching for you. 
 Isn't that so ? " 
 
 " I shall think about it," said Robert. " By the 
 way, father and mother are coming to-day, I 
 believe." 
 
 " Are they, indeed ? And, as Mary is here, we 
 shall have a family party. So jolly ! " 
 
 Roderick looked amused at the animation of 
 Amory, but said nothing. 
 
 "How is Gibbs?" inquired Robert, with a gleam 
 of merriment. 
 
 " Fatter than ever," said Amory, rubbing his 
 hands ; " and his nose is more coppery. But that's 
 all the copper he has. I got his stock, or rather 
 Mr. Prescott and I together, at li."
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 325 
 
 " And how is it now ? " 
 
 178J. Don't you read ' The Advertiser ' ? " 
 
 "No, I confess; not the stock-reports. They 
 don't interest me." 
 
 " You ought to; else you can't properly enjoy 
 Gibbs's sufferings. That sign of ours how it 
 burns him ! Gilt letters just across the way." 
 
 " How is his business ? " 
 
 " Gone to pot. The old clerks made a new 
 concern, and got the pick of all the mills. Gibbs 
 kept only those that owed him, and he has to 
 carry them. Oh ! he's been catching it. I expect 
 the Miantonomo is going to fail. If it does, he's 
 done for." 
 
 ." My uncle, then, has no share in the mill busi- 
 ness?" 
 
 " I didn't say that," replied Amory. " The new 
 team wanted his name, and they needed capital. 
 It's Prescott & Co. still, by Jupiter ! It's sweet 
 for Gibbs, you believe ! " 
 
 " Yes," said Mr. Prescott, entering, " the old 
 house has a new foundation and new prospects." 
 
 " Shall I ? " said Amory mysteriously, after a 
 pause. 
 
 " Yes, if you like," said Mr. Prescott. 
 
 "Well, then," said Amory, with a little con- 
 scious air, "if you two colonels have had your 
 fill of war, you are invited to take places in the 
 Corinthian, one here, and one at the mine ; or 
 you can alternate. What do you say ? " 
 
 " What do you say ? " inquired Roderick. " You 
 have legs."
 
 326 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 " What do you say ? You have arms," was 
 the answer of Robert. 
 
 " We'll sleep over it," said Roderick. 
 
 " Yes, till noon, I've no doubt," said Mr. Pres- 
 cott, with a twinkle. 
 
 " Plans for the future," mused the lover, with 
 a cautious look at his comrade, " and no mention 
 of Phoebe. Can he love her still ? " 
 
 Here there was a new and pleasant interruption. 
 Mary came floating in like a pink blossom on the 
 wind, said hurriedly, " Papa's at the door," and 
 then swiftly went into the hall, followed by her 
 brother Robert. 
 
 Roderick remained sitting, though strangely 
 affected ; for he could not rise without help. Mr. 
 Prescott stalked to the window as he heard the 
 door open, and affected to look for signs of rain ; 
 while Amory pulled out his handkerchief, and 
 buried his face in it. The mother and father were 
 meeting their long-lost son. No one within hear- 
 ing could listen unmoved to the sacred maternal 
 joy and grief that flowed in mingled tides. The 
 mother's strong nature was subdued, and gave 
 way in passionate sobs upon the neck of the son 
 of her heart. This was her boy, her beloved, 
 and he had come back, had come back in 
 honor ; and here was the brave fellow's lacerated 
 arm. It was too much. God was too good. In 
 His arms her boy had been safe. He watching 
 over Israel slumbers not nor sleeps. He suffered 
 not a foot to be moved. The pestilence that
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 327 
 
 walketh in darkness, and the destruction that 
 wasteth at noonday, had passed by him. Thou- 
 sands had not prevailed against him, nor had ten 
 thousands made him afraid. Yes : God had 
 saved him from the slings and arrows of the 
 mighty ; and now he was to testify to His good- 
 ness, and rejoice in his loving-kindness. " Like as a 
 father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth 
 them that fear him." 
 
 So the divine instinct hurried the great-hearted 
 mother on, until uncle Solomon took her gently 
 by the arm, and again and again pleaded with her, 
 " Come, come, Zeruiah ! come now, do ! Be calm, 
 and let Robert go and sit down. You'll wear your- 
 self out, and him too. Come, don't cry any more ! 
 He's here, and safe : 'tain't as though he was down 
 in Andersonville, lookin' for a place to lay his 
 bones." 
 
 By and by, completely exhausted, the mother 
 was led to a seat in the drawing-room ; and there 
 she sat, still in her travelling-suit, with her eyes 
 closed, rocking slowly, and murmuring her 
 prayers and thanksgivings. 
 
 The father found his way to the window, and 
 silently grasped his brother's hand ; then, beckon- 
 ing to his son, they two sat down in a corner. 
 Even the humorous old man had been in tears 
 by sympathy with his wife's strong emotion ; but, 
 while the drops still glistened on his leathern 
 cheek, the old spirit rose, and he shook himself 
 as he said, " Your mother allers has 'em ready,
 
 328 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 them texts. She shook 'em over ye as ef she had 
 a pepper-box full." 
 
 Mary had stolen near Amory for sympathy 
 during this scene ; and they withdrew to the adja- 
 cent room, where they were soon busy catching 
 butterflies. 
 
 Mr. Prescott meantime walked about, dropping 
 a word here and there. 
 
 "I say, Amory," said he, "have you finished 
 that poem? It's odd if lines about sparrows 
 don't pair. Perhaps you and Mary will rhyme 
 together, and become a poem, or at least a coup- 
 let, yourselves." 
 
 " We've a glorious poem, in prospect," said 
 the happy man. 
 
 Mrs. Prescott now appeared, and persuaded 
 her sister-in-law to retire for a while in order to 
 take off her bonnet and shawl, and compose her- 
 self. No one now remained but the two elderly 
 men and the two colonels, and the conversation 
 became more cheerful. 
 
 " Hugh," said uncle Solomon, "Robert tells me 
 you've got a good thing in that 'ere copper-mine." 
 
 "Yes, brother Solomon, better than raiding 
 poultry, or hauling cord-wood to the village." 
 
 " No slip-up in it, I s'pose ? " 
 
 "I think not. Ask Amory about the size of 
 the hill, all copper." 
 
 " I'm ginerally skeery about stocks. Dan 
 Drew, or one of them oppyrators, last summer 
 got hold of our minister, and made him think he
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 329 
 
 was goin' to make his fortin ; and he told the 
 deacons, and they told the squire ; and so it went 
 round, and they all bought sheers: and if that 
 crafty feller didn't jest clean out our village I " 
 
 " It's a way they have. People don't steal any 
 more : that's simple and vulgar. They only get 
 up" stock companies." 
 
 " Wai, I've got a little, not much, a thousan' 
 or two, and I've been gittin' six or seven per 
 cent for't. P'raps I'll draw it in, and git the 
 vallue in sheers." 
 
 "If you like. And I'll make over an equal 
 number to Mary. I have just offered Robert, 
 here, and Roderick, chances to go in. There's 
 room enough." 
 
 " Of course you'll go in ; won't you, boys ? I 
 kin call you boys, now that you hain't got your 
 eppylets on. How is it, Roderick ? " 
 
 "' Uncertain, uncle Solomon. I want to see 
 the war out, and Davis and Lee here in Fort 
 Warren. Time enough to make money after 
 that. Besides, mother has been talking of my 
 going to see my English relatives. I haven't 
 decided." 
 
 Once more Robert thought, "A trip to Eng- 
 land, and no mention of Phrebe."
 
 330 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 SIGNOR BELVEDERE was back again from 
 Europe. He had aired and brightened his rooms, 
 and had restored the flower-pots to the windows. 
 The bird had been brought home, and the piano 
 was in exquisite tune. The sheaf of rapiers, fen- 
 cing-foils and canes, hung over the mantel. The 
 chairs were in picturesque disorder, and the secret 
 closets newly filled with house-keeping articles. 
 
 He had dressed himself with extreme care, and 
 had combed his beard until it fell in soft, white 
 waves over the purple necktie. For the first 
 time in this country, he wore an unusual orna- 
 ment, a heavy medal of gold on his breast. His 
 closely-fitting black frock-coat was trimly but- 
 toned, and a small crimson ribbon was just visible 
 in the buttonhole of the lapel. Then, with the 
 ceremonial glossy silk hat (which he detested), his 
 costume was complete. Selecting the slimmest of 
 malacca sticks, he drew on his buff gloves, 
 whistled to his bird, and descended to the street, 
 making a figure as striking and as graceful as one 
 often beholds. He walked leisurely to Mount 
 Vernon Street, and reached Mr. Prescott's house 
 a little after twelve, just as a carriage left Miss 
 Thorpe and Phoebe at the door.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 331 
 
 Phoebe had entirely recovered her health and 
 spirits, although her experiences had given her an 
 unusual maturity of expression in one so young. 
 Since her return from the South, she had resumed 
 her place as a music-teacher, but passed a day or 
 two each week with Miss Thorpe. They had now 
 come in compliance with a request from Signer 
 Belvedere, who had in a characteristic note in- 
 formed them of his return, and expressed a desire 
 to meet them at Mr. Prescott's. 
 
 He was more stately than ever ; and, though his 
 manner was gracious, his self-command was per- 
 fect. No one not in his secret could have told 
 whether he had come to give a lesson, to attend a 
 funeral, or negotiate a treaty. Phoebe felt "her 
 heart beat loudly as she walked up the steps, and 
 Miss Thorpe had completely lost her self-control 
 in the protracted suspense. The pale and anxious 
 lady wished she could have the Italian illuminated 
 from within, like a city clock at night. She was 
 vexed that he could smile like a fiend, while she 
 was in such an agony. Clearly he had missed the 
 chance of distinction as a diplomatist. 
 
 Phoebe and Miss Thorpe were shown into the 
 reception-room, where they met Mrs. Prescott, 
 resplendent in the newest of morning costumes. 
 She noticed first the complementary colors of her 
 visitors' white chip hats, hyacinthine pink upon 
 Phoebe's, and purplish lilac upon Miss Thorpe's, 
 and saw how each lent beauty to the other. 
 She next surveyed the new brocade curtains, the
 
 332 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 fresh laces, the rich mossy carpets, the regilded 
 picture frames, and dwelt a moment on the glimpse 
 of gorgeous colors seen at a distance in the con- 
 servatory. Yes, all was as it should be, and she 
 was sure her friends would find themselves harmo- 
 nious figures in a charming parterre. 
 
 The three ladies advanced into the larger room : 
 both parlors had been thrown open together, as 
 well as the breakfast-room and the conservatory. 
 Signor Belvedere attended them, holding on to 
 his hat as if it were the cover of a jewel-case, or a 
 gift he was to place before some shrine. 
 
 The two colonels were at the breakfast-table, 
 which had been cleared of every thing but the 
 crystal claret jug, and to that Roderick continued 
 to pay his devotions. They were playing back- 
 gammon ; and aunt Zeruiah, hearing the rattle of 
 dice, lifted her eyes, and groaned. She had ex- 
 postulated against the sin when the board was 
 first brought, in vain. Her solemnity had returned, 
 and it oppressed her like the band of artificial hair 
 that rested on her broad brows. Amory and Alary 
 Prescott were still in the small adjacent room, 
 apparently engaged in some literary exercise that 
 was excessively amusing. Sounds like " kiss " and 
 " bliss," and " love " and " dove," were heard at 
 intervals, with occasional bursts of laughter inex- 
 plicable to all but the rhymers themselves. 
 
 The two elder Prescotts were in the back-parlor, 
 and, after the usual compliments, resumed their 
 seats. It was evident to both that the meeting
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 333 
 
 of the guests was not accidental. Uncle Solomon 
 was full of admiration for Phoebe, but Signor 
 Belvedere was a puzzle to him. The eyes of the 
 honest countryman followed the lithe, courtier- 
 like movements of the Italian with undisguised 
 curiosity. 
 
 " Guess he's one of them foreign lords, ain't he ? 
 Looks like one. I remember, in a picter where 
 Clumbus was tryin' to show how he was goin' to 
 discover Ameriky, there was a man like that, only 
 he had tight breeches on." 
 
 The reply was a mere nod ; and uncle Solomon 
 continued his comments, especially wondering 
 how " a man with airs like them are could demean 
 himself to teach singinV 
 
 The various groups were in some inexplicable 
 manner drawn together by the delicate art of the 
 Italian. A word to this and a smile to that per- 
 son had the effect, after a time, of concentrating 
 the attention of all. He had neglected no one in 
 the apartments, and had even quite won the admi- 
 ration of aunt Zeruiah by his skilful posing of 
 her son Robert in the attitude of a Christian hero. 
 All were in the front parlor, or within hearing. 
 The colonels laid aside their game, and came for- 
 ward together, one hobbling with a crutch, the 
 other with his arm in a sling. The sight was new 
 and touching ; but the sufferers were cheerful, 
 almost merry, over their misfortunes, and carried 
 the matter in such a high and nonchalant way as 
 to take off the pathetic impression. Phoebe and
 
 334 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 Miss Thorpe greeted the heroes with warm words 
 and with looks of tenderest sympathy. Signor 
 Belvedere meanwhile was stealthily watching the 
 girl, believing that her countenance would betray 
 her, and show to which of them she was attached. 
 But, though Robert was his favorite, he could not 
 observe that she was any warmer in her manner 
 towards him than towards Roderick. She did not 
 show her feelings. 
 
 Then the young men, in turn, related something 
 of their adventures ; and, while this was going on, 
 Signor Belvedere had a new light upon his former 
 perplexities. For he remembered vividly the 
 scenes when Phoebe in her delirium had described 
 what she saw. It was Robert, not Roderick, 
 whose thrilling ride for life she had followed with 
 the lenses of love's second sight. It was Robert, 
 not Roderick, who had been hunted through the 
 swamps, and had paddled, while blistered and hun- 
 gry, down the river to the sea. It was the image 
 of Robert, not Roderick, that had attracted her, 
 and made her willing to brave the wintry sea in 
 search of him. And, with all this undying passion 
 in her breast, she had met her lover without an 
 unmaidenly thought, and left him to learn her 
 heart by trial at home. 
 
 He looked up at Mrs. Prescott, and smiled, as he 
 saw with what intense interest she was regarding 
 the drama in progress. 
 
 He looked again at Phoebe. Her tranquillity 
 did not deceive him any longer.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 335 
 
 " Noble girl I " he said to himself. " Pure and 
 discreet, she will die before she will speak. It is 
 the soul of the daughter of a great race. She 
 could be a heroine, a Joan of Arc, if need be." 
 How he admired her, adored her! He would 
 have been proud to kneel to her as to a queen. 
 
 The Signor further questioned the colonels as to 
 their purposes, and heard from them what we 
 have learned already. Only Roderick, as he was 
 always more affected by the latest notion, was a 
 little less firm about seeing the end of the war, 
 and appeared to be waiting to know more about 
 the English relatives. 
 
 Here Mr. Prescott interposed, and mentioned 
 his offer, which the Signor heard with surprise. 
 He looked at the speaker and at the young men. 
 It was like a dream to be told that the ridiculous 
 copper stock had come to have a value, and was to 
 make all the family rich. 
 
 The demeanor of the young men in presence of 
 the charmer was perplexing to Mr. Prescott. 
 
 " The young dogs ! " thought he. " I wonder 
 which of them, after all, is to get my niece ! I 
 can't think Roderick really meant to give her up 
 if he ever really cared for her. He is gay and off- 
 hand, no sighing lover surely. And Robert, 
 though he is nervous and hectic, is grave and 
 silent. Has she jilted them both ? " 
 
 Robert was more and more astonished at the 
 manner of Roderick. Was it claret now, as it 
 had been commissary [D] before ? There was no
 
 336 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 tremor, no eagerness of expression, no tenderness, 
 in his voice. He might have shown as much agi- 
 tation at the sympathy of the housemaid. Then 
 glancing at Phoebe, Robert saw, or thought he 
 saw, beneath the apparent calm of her counte- 
 nance. His soul rose to mid-heaven at the thought. 
 Yes, he had been a blind idiot. 
 
 "Roderick is almost impertinent," thought his 
 mother. " How can he be so indifferent when so 
 much is at stake ? I should like to pull his ears." 
 
 " They have conspired : I am sure of it. They 
 have exchanged confidences while in camp to- 
 gether, and have agreed to slight me," thought 
 Phoebe. 
 
 " The dandy has become blas and hardened, 
 and the preacher has grown worldly," thought 
 Miss Thorpe. " I liked him as a poetical enthu- 
 siast better." 
 
 " I wonder if those coxcombs think such a girl 
 as that is to be had every day for the asking," 
 said Mr. Prescott to himself, as he looked at the 
 pair who were lolling on the sofa. " In my time 
 I would have leaped a barnyard gate, merely for 
 one look of hers." 
 
 Aunt Zeruiah with a heightened color said in a 
 clear voice, 
 
 " Whatever others may decide, I hope my son 
 will not be deceived by the riches and vanities of 
 this world, but will turn his face toward God, and 
 preach his everlasting gospel." 
 
 Uncle Solomon, as usual, quieted his spouse,
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 337 
 
 and she proceeded to cool her cheeks with a broad 
 and breeze-compelling fan. The city dame smiled 
 as the formidable implement was spread, and 
 wondered if its like could be found anywhere 
 except in a museum. 
 
 " You know, madam," said Belvedere, addressing 
 Mrs. Prescott with more than his usual formality, 
 " that I had some strongg rea-son to make a 
 winter trip across the At-a-lantic. I wish-ed to 
 know the truth about the parentage of our beloved 
 Phaybe. You have-a-thought, with some rea-son, 
 that she was your niece. I am compel-led to tell 
 you she is not." There was a general murmur. 
 
 " No, madam : your brother Roderick Manning 
 marri-ed the Countess della Torre, then a widow, 
 and with one very young child. That child was 
 nam-ed Phaybe, and she is La Contessa. It is this 
 girl, our Phaybe. She is La Contessa. Her 
 mother did bear a child to Roderick, her second 
 husband ; but that child di-ed in infancy. Phaybe 
 is not a Manning, not your-a niece. These 
 thinggs I have surely learn-ed, both in England and 
 in Italy. There is a small estate, an an-cient house, 
 you may call it a castle, and a vineyard, which 
 is the seat of the Delia Torres, and which will be- 
 long to the Contessa here. A similar good-fortune 
 awaits Colonel Roderick. His uncle Ralph Man- 
 ning invites him over, as next heir, to make the 
 house his home, and bids me tell him he has pick-ed 
 out a beautiful and a rich youngg lady for him." 
 
 As he uttered these words, the Signer looked at
 
 338 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 Roderick and Phoebe, and glanced from the one to 
 the other. 
 
 " No bond between them that will kill by being 
 severed," thought he. 
 
 Robert's breath was coming fast ; and his face 
 would have been deadly pale, except for the bright 
 spots in his cheeks. 
 
 Poor Miss Thorpe ! Now, that Phcebe was not 
 the niece of Mrs. Prescott, was her turn coming ? 
 
 "But, Phaybe," Signer Belvedere continued, 
 " you have not ask-ed me about the Delia Torres. 
 Have you no curiosity about your father?" 
 
 Phoebe found herself strangely calm while all 
 the company were so excited in her behalf. She 
 thanked her generous friend, and answered that 
 she would be most grateful to know about both 
 her parents. 
 
 " Aha ! " he replied. " One at a time. Of the 
 father I will say he was Count Ferdinando della 
 Torre, the son of my elder sister. No other male 
 relative of the name survives. On the other side 
 the Cavalcantes ; I arn the head of the house. 
 I am the Cavalcante. You are the daughter of 
 my nephew, the next heir of my blood, the daugh- 
 ter and the best belov-ed of my heart." 
 
 He raised his arms, and in so doing showed the 
 decoration on his breast. He looked towards 
 Phoebe, and she rushed into his fatherly embrace. 
 
 The scene was a part of one of nature's own 
 dramas ; and, when Phoebe looked up, she saw 
 only a circle of faces bedewed with tears.
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 339 
 
 What Robert felt in that moment it is impossi- 
 ble to describe. He had begun to repent his 
 abrupt breaking-off the suit when they were 
 .last together. He had seen that Roderick was 
 not her lover ; and, under that inscrutable loveli- 
 ness of feature, he thought there might be, after 
 all, concealed a deep and tender regard for him. 
 But he had vowed to himself never to renew the 
 question ; and now that she was a countess, and 
 with an assured future in the land of her birth, 
 how could he ask her again to be his wife ? He 
 had cut himself off from all that he desired on 
 earth. 
 
 "And now," continued Signer Belvedere, "as 
 to the unfortunate mother, the countess, whose 
 hard-a fate it was to die in a tenement-house, after 
 seeing the death of her 'husband and of the off- 
 spring of their love ; to die afar from kindred, and 
 without the offices of the church, and to leave her 
 remaining child in the care of that poor but great- 
 hearted Irish angel, as to that mother, I have-a 
 been able to learn nothing. I visited the place 
 where her first marriage took place. I saw the 
 records of the church, and the book of the notary. 
 The entry of the marriage-contract is there ; but 
 some one has cut out the name of the bride. 
 Why, I cannot say ; but so it is. I found the 
 baptism of Phaybe, and the names correspond 
 with those found in the mother's prayer-book." 
 
 " Oh, if you were only my poor sister's daugh- 
 ter ! " said Miss Thorpe in an outburst of motherly 
 feeling.
 
 340 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 " No one knows that she is not," answered 
 Belvedere meaningly. "I have often remark-ed 
 that in her are blended the best-a traits of both 
 English and Italian races. It was then I thought 
 she had an English father and a mother from my 
 own country. But now my own blood is accounted 
 for; and it may be that the strain of English 
 beauty and of English high bearing comes from 
 an American mother, and perhaps even from the 
 lovely prima donna whose loss you have so long 
 lamented." 
 
 " To think we shall never know ! " said Miss 
 Thorpe pensively. 
 
 "You are more than aunt, and more than 
 mother even ! " said Phrebe impetuously. " I shall 
 always claim my share in that portrait; and I 
 have a place here" fervently embracing the child- 
 less woman. 
 
 " And so it's a great lady ye are ! " broke in 
 Mrs. Maloney, who had been waiting in the hall, 
 and could restrain herself no longer. " The Lord 
 bless ye, and the blessed Virgin kape ye ! " 
 
 " Dear Mrs. Maloney," said Phoebe, turning, and 
 seizing her hands, " I am glad you are here to 
 wish me joy. We will never part again, not if 
 you will live with me." 
 
 Mrs. Maloney retired, courtesying, and quite as- 
 tonished at her temerity in speaking out unasked. 
 
 Signor Belvedere (as we shall still call him) 
 was standing by Pho3be, chatting gayly, and cooing 
 like an elderly pigeon, with an air of immense
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 341 
 
 satisfaction. He fixed a look upon Robert which 
 appeared to signify unmistakably, " Come ! " 
 
 That bashful and despondent youth saw and 
 wondered. He had remained by Roderick, be- 
 cause he was naturally bound to aid him in loco- 
 motion. Perhaps Roderick also saw the same 
 invitation in the Italian's eyes, and meant to take 
 himself out of the way ; for he said, " Here, 
 Robert, help me to mother, if you can do it with 
 your left flipper. Your legs are all right. I have 
 something to say to the old folks. Land me, and 
 leave me." 
 
 As Roderick was going out of hearing, Amory 
 observed in a burlesque philosophic tone, " This 
 family's fortunes show that the best-laid plans 
 gang aft aglee. Miss Phoebe wished to be a 
 public singer. Look at her: she is La Contessa. 
 Robert was sure he was going to preach. Look at 
 him : he is every inch a colonel. Mr. Prescott 
 hoped he would beat Gibbs, and had no faith in 
 copper. Now, he didn't beat Gibbs until the 
 Corinthian had become the pillar of his fortunes. 
 Mrs. Prescott was going to have a niece and 
 perhaps a daughter-in-law; but that is turning 
 out otherwise. Good-fortune comes, but not as 
 we expect. For instance, my being named for a 
 poet was to no purpose ; yet I hobble on to pros- 
 perity in prose. Man steers the ship; but the 
 tides and winds he can't control. You observe, I 
 am acting as Greek chorus." 
 
 " Make a sonnet on it," said Robert.
 
 342 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 " No, I thank you. The proverb is enough, 
 'MAN PROPOSES.' Poetry whistles itself. I 
 sha'n't try to whistle it any more." 
 
 After a rather painful progress, Roderick sat 
 down between his parents in the privacy of the 
 smaller room. He looked rather flushed and 
 excited. Claret, surely, was to blame. 
 
 " Mother," said the dutiful son, " it's best to 
 have a fair deal. That affair has blown over. 
 I've seen how Robert is bound up in her ; not 
 that he talks, but he mourns. I know he is get- 
 ting out of the notion of black, a moulting 
 theological crow but he's all right. He saved 
 my life more than once. I won't contend with 
 him, not for bravado, as I once set out to do. 
 I have a speck of honor. No : I'll either go back 
 to my regiment, or Fll go over and see my uncle 
 Ralph. Perhaps the girl he has picked out for 
 me isn't as pretty as Phoebe ; but we won't 
 enlarge on that point. Now, not a word ! I was 
 afraid you might do, or say, or look something. 
 Let the play go on. Count me out. Will you 
 help me back into the parlor ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Mr. Prescott. " But, Roderick, 
 you've had too much claret." 
 
 "Perhaps I have, and that's the reason I tell 
 the truth. In vino veritas. I'm not strong on 
 my pins yet, in any sense." 
 
 Mrs. Prescott had been extremely agitated ; but 
 the new turn of affairs brought some consolations. 
 If she had lost Phoebe, she would be yet repaid
 
 MAN PROPOSES. 343 
 
 by seeing her son a landed proprietor in England, 
 perhaps a baronet, or even a peer, by and by. 
 And she wondered if he could wear his colonel's 
 or general's uniform when he came to be knighted. 
 
 Mr. Prescott was astonished that Roderick 
 should voluntarily renounce such a darling- as 
 Phoebe, countess or no countess ; but he thought 
 it might be just as well, for he felt pretty sure as 
 to her preference. But the young men were 
 heroes for the day, both of them ; and he was half 
 in a melting mood as he walked about. 
 
 Aunt Zeruiah, in a whisper to her husband, 
 asked, " Is that gal Phoebe a Papist ? And, even 
 ef she is a countess, won't she have to jine the 
 pope's church before she can git her property 
 over there ? Ef she's a darter of the Scarlet 
 Woman of the Revelation, I don't want her to 
 be a-marryin' my son." 
 
 Uncle Solomon laughed, and told his wife not 
 to talk in that way, for fear her sister-in-law 
 would think she was denouncing the oratory. 
 While Belvedere and Robert were talking apart, 
 Phoebe felt that two deep and earnest eyes were 
 fixed upon her, although she did not at once raise 
 her own to meet them. Soon, however, she 
 looked frankly at the honest face of her lover. 
 
 Did Signer Belvedere find it necessary to con- 
 verse with Miss Thorpe ? At all events, he had 
 moved his position nearer to her, and discreetly 
 turned away from his Phaybe : in fact, a general 
 movement was in progress, and the company were 
 forming new groups.
 
 344 MAN PROPOSES. 
 
 Phoebe and Robert found themselves near the 
 conservatory. The flowers were bright, but they 
 did not see them. Scarcely a word was said. As 
 spirits have no vocal organs, their thoughts may 
 be exchanged as by the efflux and influx of light, 
 and their feelings may be mere emanations. 
 Robert swam in delight as he saw in Phoebe's face 
 the look that answered his own. It was an effort, 
 for his breath seemed to fail him ; but he managed 
 to say, 
 
 " Are you going to Italy ? " 
 
 " Yes, if you go with me." 
 
 THE END.
 
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 treatise, and has covered the whole field. Cuts are inserted whenever neces- 
 sary." Independent. 
 
 Soitte of the Advantages of thin Book. 
 
 1. It tells how to perform hundreds of experiments in Natural Philosophy 
 with such apparatus as nearly every one can afford to have. 
 
 2. It tells how to MAKE apparatus with which the most wonderful effects 
 may be produced. 
 
 3. Every boy who loves to make things will be glad of the book, as it will 
 enable him to do many things which he now supposes only scientists cun do. 
 
 4. Shows that the Porte Lumiere is only a looking-glass fixed in a board in 
 the window, to reflect a beam of light into the room. 
 
 5. Tells how to use a beam of sunlight and a magnifying-glass for a magic 
 lantern. How to make and use a magic lantern. 
 
 For sale by booksellers, and mailed, prepaid, on receipt of price, by the 
 publishers. 
 
 LEE & SHEPARD, Boston. 
 
 C. T. DILLINGHAM, New YorK-
 
 ELECTRICITY, MAGNETISM AND SOUND. 
 
 VERY TEACHER WANTS 
 
 THE TELEPHONE. 
 
 An account of the Phenomena of Electricity, Magnetism and 
 Round, as involved in its action; with directions for making a 
 Speaking Telephone. BY 
 
 Prof. A. E. DOLBEAR, of Tufts College. 
 I6mo. ILLUSTRATED. 75 Cts. 
 
 " An interesting little book upon this most fascinating subject, which is treated 
 in a very clear and methodical way. First, we have a thorough review of the 
 discoveries in electr.city, then of magnetism, then of those in the study of 
 sound pitch, velocity, timbre, tone, resonance, symp ithetic vibrations, etc. 
 >'rom these the telephone is reached and by them in a measure explained." 
 Uartford Courant. 
 
 tion of the telephone. It is a little book that will be desired by all classes of the 
 community; neatly printed and tastefully bound. Every young person in the 
 land should become familiar with the principles of phjvical science involved in 
 this discovery." N.E. Journal, of Education. 
 
 "To enable the reader fully to understand the subject, Prof. DOLBEAR has 
 begun at the b< ginning, the history of electricity; all pht-nomena and dir-cov- 
 eries at all b"aring upon the subject are clearly stated, and when nee- ssary, are 
 as clear y illustrated. Thermo and magneto-t lectricity are di.-cussid, and the 
 various induction phenomena are noted. The relations between el< ctricity, 
 light, motion and sound, so far as those relations hnve been determined, are 
 successively presented, together with very interesting remarks concerning vibra- 
 tions and overtones and a table t-f tone composii ion, explaining the cruxes of 
 Stality in torn s so clearly as to be instantly understood." Science Observer, 
 oston, Mass., Dec., 187?. 
 
 "This is subject of much interest at present, and Prof. DOLBEAR'S exposi- 
 tion of it will be welcomed. The author elucid >ict* the pb- nomena of elec- 
 tricity, magnetism and bound, as involved in 1he action of the telephone; 
 describes tbj workings of the speaking telephone, and givs directions for 
 making one. The author is specially qualified to write on the subject, as he 
 is the inventor of the telephone which he describes. His descriptions are plain, 
 and are helped out by a dozen or more engravings." Boston Journal. 
 
 " The first sixty pages are devoted to a description of magnetism and elec- 
 tricity; and the author has presented the subject so clearly, even in the short 
 space assigned it, that one who had no previous knowledge of these forces could 
 not fail to understand them. The next forty pages are devot d to an expoi-ition 
 of sound, and in them the writer has fully illustrated the nature and peculiarities 
 of sound." Tuft* Collegian. 
 
 " The title-page of this little volume is exhaustive of its import and purpose, 
 and it is only just to say that the 150 pages of the manual very well vindicate the 
 claim of its title-page. The author has given the most lucid account of electrical 
 and acoustic principles, as they relate to the telephone, with which we have 
 anywhere met. He is himself the inventor of a speaking telephone but he gives 
 descriptions of the instruments of Reiss, Grey and Bell, as well as of his own 
 contrivance." Chicago Standard. 
 
 " Prof. A. E. DOT.BEAR of Tufts College, is one of the earliest, the greatest, 
 and most modest of the telephone inventors. His latest improvement almost 
 roars in the listener's ear. The sound given off in New York at one extremity 
 of the wire is as loud as that given to the telephone at the other end in Boston, 
 no matter how loud it may be." Evolution, N. Y. 
 
 For sale by all booksellers, and mailed, postpaid, on receipt of pric* 1 . 
 
 LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers, Boston. 
 C. T. DILLINGHAM, New York.
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 API 
 
 FEB191974 
 
 
 
 'orm L9-Series 444
 
 3 115801105 1181 
 
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