H^^H HHlHiiilili 'ffft m POP ULAR JYO VEL S By Ittrs. Mary J. Holmes, All published uniform with this volume, at 01.50, and sent free by mail on receipt of price. I. HUGH WORTHINGTON. II. DARKNESS AND DAYLIGHT. in. LENA RIVERS. IV. TEMPEST AND SUNSHINE. V. MARIAN GRET. VI. MEADOW BROOK. VII. ENGLISH ORPHANS VIII. DORA DEANE. IX. COUSIN MAUDE. X. HOMESTEAD ON THE HILLSIDE. Mrs. Holmes is a peculiarly pleasant and fascinating writer. Her books are always entertaining, and she has '.he rare faculty of enlisting the sympathy and aftec- tions of her readers, and of holding their attention to her pages with deep and absorbing interest. CARLETON, Publisher, New York. THE HOMESTEAD ON THE HILLSIDE t, it would be such a triumph over Margaret, who, she fancied, treated her with cold indifference. Long after the hour of midnight was rung from the village clock, the widow and her daughter sat by their fireside, forming plans for the future, and when at last they retired to sleep, it was to dream of funeral proces- sions, bridal favors, step-children, half-sisters, and double connections all around. CHAPTER HL ONE STEP TOWARD THE HOMESTEAD. WEEKS passed on, and so necessary to the comfort of the invalid did the presence of Mrs. Carter become, that at last, by particular request, she took up her abode at the homestead, becoming Mrs. Hamilton's constant nurse and attendant. Lenora, for the time being, was sent to the house of a friend,' who lived not far distant. When Margaret Hamilton learned of the arrangement, she op- posed it with all her force. "Send her away, mother," said she one evening; " please send her away, for I cannot endure her presence, with her oily words and silent footsteps. She reminds me of the serpent, who decoyed Eve into eating that ap- ple, and I always feel an attack of the nightmare, when- ever I know that her big, black eyes are fastened upon me." " How differently people see," laughed Carrie, who was f THE HOMESTEAD ON THE HILLSIDE. sitting by. " Why, Mag, I always fancy her to be in a nightmare when your big eyes light upon her." " It's because she knows she's guilty," answered Mag, her words and manner wanning up with the subject. "Say, mother, won't you send her off? It seems as though a dark shadow falls upon us all the moment she enters the house." " She is too invaluable a nurse to be discharged for a slight whim," answered Mrs. Hamilton. " Besides, she bears the best of reputations, and I don't see what possi- ble harm can come of her being here." Margaret sighed, for though she knew full well the " pos- sible harm " which might come of it, she oould not teh 1 it to her pale, dying mother ; and ere she had tune for any answer, the black bombasin dress, white linen collar, and white, smooth face of Widow Carter moved silently into the room. There was a gleam of intense hatred in the dark eyes which for a moment flashed on Margaret's face, and then a soft hand gently stroked the glossy hair of the indignant girl, and in the most musical tones imagina- ble, a low voice murmured, "Maggie, dear, you look flushed and wearied. Are you quite well ? " " Perfectly so," answered Margaret ; and then rising, she left the room, but not until she had heard her mother say, " Dear Mrs. Carter, I am so glad you've come ! " " Is everybody bewitched," thought Mag, as she re- paired to her chamber, " father, mother, Carrie, and all ? How I wish Walter was here. He always sees things as I do." Margaret Hamilton was a high spirited, intelligent girl, about nineteen years of age. She was not beautiful, but had you asked for the finest looking girl in all Glenwood, Mag would surely have been pointed out. She was rather above the medium height, and in her whole beai> ONE STEP TOWABD THE HOMESTEAD. 21 ing there was a quiet dignity, which many mistook for hauteur. Naturally frank, affectionate, and kind-hearted, she was, perhaps, a little strong in her prejudices, which, when once satisfactorily formed, could not easily be shaken. For Mrs. Carter she had conceived a strong dislike, for she believed her to be an artful, hypocritical woman ; and now, as she sat by the window in her room, her heart swelled with indignation toward one who had thus usurped her place by her mother's bedside, whom Car- rie was learning to confide in, and of whom even the father said, " she is a most excellent woman." " I will write to Walter," said she, " and tell him to come immediately." Suiting the action to the word, she drew up her wri- ting-desk, and soon a finished letter was lying before her. Ere she had time to fold and direct it, a loud cry from her young brother Willie, summoned her for a few mo- ments from the room, and on her return, she met in the doorway the black bombasin and linen collar. " Madam," said she, " did you wish for anything ? " " Yes, dear," was the soft answer, which, however, hi this case failed to turn away wrath. " Yes, dear, your mother said you knew where there were some fine bits of linen." " And could not Carrie come for them ? " asked Mag. " Yes, dear, but she looks so delicate that I do not like to send her up these long stairs oftener than is necessary. Haven't you noticed how pale she is getting of late ? I shouldn't be at all surprised ; " but before the sen- tence was finished, the linen was found, and the door closed upon Mrs. Carter. A new idea had been awakened in Margaret's mind, and for the first tune she thought how much her sister re 22 THE HOMESTEAD ON THE HILLSIDE. ally had changed. Carrie, who was four years younger than Margaret, had ever been delicate, and her parents had always feared that not long could they keep her ; but though each winter her cough had returned with in- creased severity, though the veins on her white brow grew more distinct, and her large, blue eyes glowed with unwonted luster, still Margaret had never before dreamed of danger, never thought that soon her sister's voice would be missed, and that Carrie would be gone. But she thought of it now, and laying her head upon the ta- ble, wept for a tune in silence. At length, drying her tears, she folded her letter and took it to the post-office. As she was returning home, she was met by a servant, who exclaimed, " Run, Miss Margaret, run ; your mother is dying, and Mrs. Carter sent me for you ! " Swift as the mountain chamois, Margaret sped up the long, steep hill, and in a few moments stood within her mother's sick-room. Supported in the arms of Mrs. Car- ter lay the dying woman, while her eyes, already over- shadowed with the mists of coming death, wandered anx- iously around the room, as if in quest of some one. The moment Margaret appeared, a satisfied smile broke over her wasted features, and beckoning her daughter to her bedside, she whispered, " Dear Maggie, you did not think I'd die so soon, when you went away." A burst of tears was Maggie's only answer, as she pas- sionately kissed the cold, white lips, which had never breathed aught to her save words of love and gentleness Far different, however, would have been her reply, had she known the reason of her mother's question. Not long after she had left the house for the office, Mrs. Hamilton had been taken worse, and th^. physician, who chanced to be present, pronounced her dying. Instantly OXB STEP TOWABD THE HOMESTEAD. 2 % the alarmed husband summoned together his household, but Mag was missing. No one had seen her; no one knew where she was, until Mrs. Carter, who had been some little time absent from the room, reiintered it, say- ing, " Margaret had started for the post-office with a let- ter, when I sent a servant to tell her of her mother's dan- ger, but for some reason she kept on. though I dare say she will soon be back." As we well know, the substance of this speech was true, though the impression which Mrs. Carter's words conveyed was entirely false. For the advancement of her own cause, she felt that it was necessary to weaken the high estimation in which Mr. Hamilton held his daugh- ter, and she fancied that the mother's death-bed wa> us fitting a place where to commence operations as she could select. As Margaret hung over her mother's pillow, the false woman, as if to confirm the assertion she had made, leaned forward and said, " Robin told you, I suppose ? I sent him to do so." Margaret nodded assent, while a deeper gloom fell upon the brow of Mr. Hamilton, who stood with folded arms, watching the advance of the great destroyer. It came at last, and though no perceptible change heralded its approach, there was one fearful spasm, one long drawn sigh, a striving of the eye for one more glimpse of the loved ones gathered near, and then Mrs. Hamilton was dead. On the bosom of Mrs. Carter her life was breat lu-d away, and when all was over, that lady laid gently down her burden, carefully adjusted the tumbled covering, and then step] ing to the window, looked out, while the stricken group deplored their loss. Long and bitterly over their dead they wept, -tut not on one of that weeping band fell the bolt so crushingly 24 THE HOMESTEAD ON THE HILLSIDE. as upon Willie, the youngest of the flock, the child four Bummers old, who had ever lived in the light of his moth- er's love. They had told him she would die, but he un- derstood them not, for never before had he looked on death; and now, when to his childish words of love his mother made no answer, most piteously rang out the infantile cry, " Mother, oh, my mother, who'll be my mother now ? " Caressingly, a small, white hand was laid on Willie's yellow curls, but ere the words of love were spoken, Margaret took the little fellow in her arms, and whis- pered, through her tears, " I'll be your mother, darling." Willie brushed the tear-drops from his sister's cheek, and laying his fair, round face upon her neck, said, " And who'll be Maggie's mother ? Mrs. Carter ? " "Never ! never ! " answered Mag, while to the glance of hatred and defiance cast upon her, she returned one equally scornful and determined. Soon from the village there came words of sympathy and offers of assistance ; but Mrs. Carter could do every- thing, and in her blandest tones she declined the services of the neighbors, refusing even to admit them into the presence of Margaret and Carrie, who, she said, were so much exhausted as to be unable to bear the fresh burst of grief which the sight of an old friend would surely produce. So the neighbors went home, and, as the world will ever do, descanted upon the probable result of Mrs. Carter's labors at the homestead. Thus, ere Ernest Ham- ilton had been three days a widower, many in fancy had wedded him to Mrs Carter, saying that nowhere could he find so good a mother for his children. And truly she did seem to be indispensable in that house of nlourning. 'Twas she who saw that everything was done, quietly and in order ; 't was she who so neatly B ONE STEP TOWARD THE HOMESTEAD. 25 arranged the muslin shroud ; 't was her arms that sup- ported the half fainting Carrie when first her eye rested on her mother, coffined for the grave ; 't was she who whispered words of comfort to the desolate husband ; and she, too, it was, who, on the night when Walter was ex- pected home, kindly sat up until past midnight to receive him! She had read Mag's letter, and by being first to welcome the young man home, bLe hoped to remove trom his mind any prejudice which he might feel for her, and by her bland smiles and gentle words to lure him into the belief that she was perfect, and Margaret uncharitable. Par- tially she succeeded, too, for when next morning Mag expressed a desire that Mrs. Carter would go home, he replied, " I think you judge her wrongfully ; she seems to be a most amiable, kind-hearted woman." -" Et tit, Brute ! " Mag could have said, but 't was nei- ther thetime nor the place, and linking her arm within her brother's, she led him into the adjoining room, whero stood their mother's coffin. CHAPTER IV, . AFTER THB> BTTEIAL. ACROSS the bright wateiS of the silvery lake which lay not far from Glouwood village, over the grassy hiltsidc, and down the long, green valley, had floalfetha notes of the Lolling bell. In the Hamilton mansion, sympathizing friends had gathered, and through the crowded parlors a solemn hush had reigned, broken only by the voice of the white-haired man of God, who in trembling tones prayed 26 THE HOMESTEAD ON THE HILLSIDE. for the bereaved ones. Over the costly coffin tear-wet faces had bent, and on the marble features of her who slept within it, had been pressed the passionate kisses of a long, a last farewell. Through the shady garden and across the running brook, whose waters this day murmured more sadly than 't was their wont to do, the funeral train had passed ; and in the dark, moist earth, by the side of many other still, pale sleepers, who offered no remonstrance when among them another came, they had buried the departed. From the windows of the homestead lights were gleam- ing, and in the common sitting-room sat Ernest Hamilton, and by his side his four motherless children. In the stuffed arm chair, sacred for the sake of one who had called it hers, reclined the black bombasm and linen collar of Widow Carter ! She had, as she said, fully intended to return home im- mediately after the burial, but there were so many little things to be seen to, so much to be done, which Margaret, of course, did not feel like doing, that she decided to stay until after supper, together with Lenora, who had come to the funeral. When supper was over, and there was no longer au excuse for lingering, she found, very greatly to her surprise and chagrin, no doubt, that the clouds which all day had looked dark and angry, were now pouring rain. " What shall I do ? " she exclaimed in great apparent distress ; then stepping to the door of the sitting-room, she said, " Maggie, dear, can you lend me an umbrella ? It is raining very hard, and I do not wish to go home with- "but one ; I will send it back to-morrow." " Certainly," answered Margaret. " Umbrella and overshoes, too ;" and rising, she left the room to procure them. A.FTKK THE BURIAL. 27 " But you surely are not going out in this storm, " said Mr. Hamilton ; while Carrie, who really liked Mrs. Car- ter, and felt that it would-be more lonely when she was gone, exclaimed eagerly, " Oh, don't leave us to-night, Mrs. Carter. Don't." " Yes, I think I must," was the answer, while Mr. Ham- ilton continued : " You had better stay ; but if you insist upon going, I will order the carriage, as you must not walk." " Rather than put you to all that trouble, I Avill re- main," said Mrs. Carter ; and when Mag returned with two umbrellas and two pair of overshoes, she found the widow comfortably seated in her mother's arm chair, while on the stool at her side, sat Lenora looking not unlike a little imp, with her wild, black face, and short, thick curls. Walter Hamilton bad not had much opportunity for scanning the face of Mrs. Carter, but now, as she sat there with the firelight flickering over her features, he fancied that he could trace marks of the treacherous de- ceit of which Mag had warned him ; and when the full black eyes rested upon Margaret, he failed not to note the glance of scorn which flashed from them, and which changed to a look of affectionate regard the moment she saw she was observed. "There is something wrong about her," thought he, " and the next time I am alone with Mag I'll ask what it is she fears from this woman." That night, in the solitude of their room, mother and child communed together as follows: "I do believe, mother, you are twin sister to the old one himself. Why, who would have thought, when first you made that friendly visit, that in five weeks' time both of us would be snugly ensconced in the best chamber of the home- st3ad ? " " If you think we are in the best chamber, you are THE HOMESTEAD ON THE HILLSIDE. greatly mistaken," replied Mrs. Carter. "Margaret, Hamilton has power enough yet to keep us out of that Didn't she look crest-fallen, though, when she found I was going to stay, notwithstanding her very disinterested offer of umbrellas and overshoes ? but I'll pay it all back svhen I become " " Mistress of the house," added Lenora. " Why not speak out plainly? Or are you afraid the walls have ears, and that the devoted Mrs. Carter's speeches would not sound well, repeated ? Oh, how sanctimonious you did look, to-day, when you were talking pious to Carrie ! I actually had to force a sneeze, to keep from laughing outright, though she, little simpleton, swallowed it all, and I dare say wonders where, you keep your wings I But really, mother, I hope you don't intend to pet her so always, for 'twould be more than it's worth to see it." "I guess I know how to manage," returned Mrs. Car- ter. " There's nothing will win a parent's affection so soon as to pet the children." " And so I suppose you expect Mr. Hamilton to pet this beautiful child ! " said Lenora, laughing loudly at the idea, and waltzing back and forth before the mirror. " Lenora ! behave / I will not see you conduct so," said the widow; to which the young lady replied, " Shut your eyes, and then you can't ! " Meantime, an entirely different conversation was going on in another part of the house, where sat Walter Ham- ilton, with his arm thrown affectionately around Mag, who briefly told of what she feared would result from Mrs. Carter's intimacy at their house. ""Impossible ! " said the young man, starting to hia feet. "Impossible! our father has too much senso to marry again, any way, and much more, to marry one so greatly inferior to our own dear mother." AFTEB THE BURIAL. 2fl "I hope it may prove so," answered Mag ; "but, with all due respect for our father, you know and I know that mother's was the stronger mind, the controlling spirit ; and now that she is gone, father will be more easily de- ceived." Margaret told the truth ; for her mother had possessed a strong intelligent mind, and was greatly the superior of her father, who, as we have before remarked, was rather weak, and easily flattered. Always sincere himself in what he said, he could not believe that other people were aught than what they seemed to be, and thus oftentimes his confidence had been betrayed by those in whom he trusted. As yet, he had, of course, entertained no thought of ever making Mrs. Carter his wife ; but her society was agreeable, her words and manner soothing, and when, on the day following the burial, she actually took her depar- ture, bag, baggage, Lenora, and all, he felt how doubly lonely was the old homestead, and wondered why she could not stay. There was room enough, and then Mar- garet was too young to assume the duties of housekeeper. Other men, in similar circumstances, had hired house- keepers, and why could not he ? lie would speak to Mat* about it that very night. But when evening came, Wal- ter, Carrie, and Willie all were present, and he found no opportunity of seeing Margaret alone ; neither did any occur until after Walter had returned to college, which he did the week following his mother's death. That night the little parlor at the cottage where dwelt the Widow Carter, looked unusually snug and cozy. It was autumn, and as the evenings were rather cool, & cheerful wood fire was blazing on the hearth. Before it stood a tasteful little workstand, near which were seated Lenora and her mother, the one industriously knitting, and the other occasionally touching the strings of her 30 THE HOMESTEAD ON THE HILLSIDE. guitar, wmch was suspended from her neck by a crimson ribbon. On the sideboard stood a fruit dish loaded with red and golden apples, and near it a basket filled with the rich purple grapes. That day in the street Lenora had met Mr. Hamilton, who asked if her mother would be at home that evening, saying he intended to call for the purpose of settling the bill which he owed her for services rendered to his fam- ily in their late affliction. " When I once get him here, I will keep him as long as possible," said Mrs. Carter; "and, Lenora, child, if he stays late, say till nine o'clock, you had better go quietly to bed." " Or into the next room, and listen," thought Lenora. Seven o'clock came, and on the graveled walk there was heard the sound of footsteps, and in a moment Ern- est Hamilton stood in the room, shaking the warm hand of the widow, who was delighted to see him, but so sorry to find him looking pale and thin ! Rejecting a seat in the comfortable rocking-chair, which Lenora pushed toward him, he proceeded at once to business, and taking from his purse fifteen dollars, passed them toward Mrs. Carter, asking if that would remunerate her for the three weeks' services in his family. But Mrs. Carter thrust them aside, saying, " Sit down, Mr. Hamilton, sit down. I have a great deal to ask you about Maggie and dear Carrie's health." " And sweet little "Willie," chimed in Lenora. Accordingly, Mr. Hamilton sat down, and so fast did Mrs. Carter talk, that the clock was pointing to half past eight ere he got another chance to offer his bills. Then, with the look of a much injured woman, Mrs. Carter de- clined the money, saying, " Is it possible, Mr. Hamilton, that you suppose my services can be bought ! What I did for your wife, I would do for any one who needed AFTER THE BURIAL. 31 me, though for but few could I entertain the same feel- ings I did for her. Short as was our acquaintance, she seemed to me like a beloved sister ; and now that she is ^gone, I feel that we have lost an invaluable treasure " Here Mrs. Carter broke down entirely, and was obliged to raise her cambric handkerchief to her eyes, while Le- nora walked to the window to conceal her emotions, whatever they might have been ! When the agitation of the company had somewhat subsided, Mr. Hamilton again insisted, and again Mrs. Carter refused. At hist, finding her perfectly inexorable, he proceeded to express his warmest thanks and deepest gratitude for what she had done, saying he should ever feel indebted to her for her great kindness; then, as the clock struck nine, he arose to go, in spite of Mrs. Carter's zealous efforts to de- tain him longer. " Call again," said she, as she lighted him to the door ; "call again, and we will talk over old tunes, when we were young, and lived in New Haven ! " Mr. Hamilton started, and looking her full in the face, exclaimed, "Luella Blackburn! It is as I at first sus- pected ; but who would have thought it ! " "Yes, I am Luella," said Mrs. Carter; "though greatly changed, I trust, from the Luella you once knew, and of whom even I have no very pleasant reminiscences; but call again, and I will tell you of many of your old classmates." Mr. Hamilton would have gone almost anywhere for the sake of hearing from his classmates, many of whom he greatly esteemed ; and as in this case the "anywhere" was only at Widow Carter's, the idea was not altogether distasteful to him, and when he bade her good night, he was under a promise to call again soon. All hopes, how- ever, of procuring her for his housekeeper were given up, 82 THE HOMESTEAD ON THE HILLSIDE. for if she resented his offer of payment for what she already done, she surely would be doubly indignant at his last proposed plan. After becoming convinced of this fact, it is a little strange how suddenly he found that he* did not need a housekeeper that Margaret, who before could not do at all, could now do very well as well as am body. And Margaret did do well, both as house- keeper and mother of little Willie, who seemed to have transferred to her the affection he had borne for his mother. At intervals during the autumn, Mrs. Carter called, al- ways giving a world of good advice, patting Carrie's pale cheek, kissing Willie, and then going away. But as none of her calls were ever returned, they gradually became less frequent, and as the whiter advanced, ceased alto- gether ; while Margaret, hearing nothing and seeing no- thing, began to forget her fears, and to laugh at them as having been groundless. CHAPTER V. K'A T E K I K B Y. THE little brooklet, which danced so merrily by the homestead burial-place, and then flowed on in many graceful turns and evolutions, finally lost itself in a glossy mill-pond,, whose waters, when the forest trees were stripped of their foliage, gleamed and twinkled in the smoky autumn light, or lay cold and still beneath the breath of winter. During this season of the year, from the upper windows of the homestead the mill-pond was KATE KIRBY. 33 discernible, together with a small red building which tood upon its banks. For many years this house had been occupied by Mr. Kirby, who had been a schoolboy with Ernest Hamilton, and who, though naturally intelligent, had never aspired to any higher employment than that of being miller on the farm of his old friend. Three years before our story opens, Mr. Kirby had died, and a stranger had been em- ployed to take his place. Mrs. Kirby, however, was so much attached to her woodland home and its forest scen- ery, that she still continued to occupy the low red house together with her daughter Kate, who sighed for no bet- ter or more elegant home, although rumor whispered Itiat there was in store for her a far more costly dwelling, even the " Homestead on the Hillside." Currently was it reported, that during Walter Hamil- ton's vacations, the winding footpath, which followed the course of the streamlet down to the mill-pond, was trod- den more frequently than usual. The postmaster's wife, too, had hinted strongly of certain ominous letters from New Haven, which regularly came directed to Kate, when Walter was not at home; so, putting together these two facts, and adding to them the high estimation in which Mrs. Kirl>y and her daughter were known to be held by the Hamiltons, it was generally conceded that there could be no shadow of doubt concerning the state of affairs between the heir apparent of the old homestead and the daughter of the poor miller. Kate was a universal favorite, and by nearly all was it bought, that in everything save money she was fully the equal of Walter Hamilton. To a face and form of the most perfect beauty, she added a degree of intelligence and sparkling wit, which, in all the rides, parties, and fetes given by the young people of Glen wood, caused her B* 3 84 THE HOMESTEAD O2ST THE HILLSIDE. society to "be chosen in preference to those whose fathers counted their money by thousands. A few there were who said that Kate's long intimacy with Margaret Hamilton had made her proud ; but in the rude dwellings and crazy tenements which skirted the borders of Glenwood village, was many a blind old wo- man, and many a hoary-headed man, who, in their daily prayers, remembered the beautiful Kate, the " fair forest- flower," who came so oft among them with her sweet young face and gentle words. For Kate, both Margaret and Carrie Hamilton already felt a sisterly aifection, while their father smiled graciously upon her, secretly hoping, however, that his son would make a more brilliant match, but resolving not to interfere, if at last his choice should fall upon her. One afternoon, early in April, as Margaret sat in her chamber, busy upon a piece of needle-work, the door Softly opened, and a mass of bright chestnut curls became visible ; next appeared -the laughing blue eyes ; and fi- nally the whole of Kate Kirby bounded into the room, saying, "Good afternoon, Maggie; are you very busy, and wish I hadn't come ? " " I am never too busy to see you," answered Margaret, at the same time pushing toward Kate the little ottoman, on which she always sat when in that room. Kate took the proffered seat, and throwing aside her bonnet, began with, " Maggie, I want to tell you some- thing, though I don't know as it is quite right to do so ; still you may as well hear it from me as any one." " Do pray tell," answered Mag, " I am dying with cu- riosity." So Kate smoothed down her black silk apron, twisted one of her ouiis into- a horridly ugly shape, and commenced KATE KIRBY. 35 with, " What kind of a woman is that Mrs. Carter, down in the village ? " Instantly Margaret's suspicions were roused, and start- ing as if a serpent had stung her, she exclaimed, " Mrs. Carter ! is it of her you will tell me ? She is a most dan- gerous woman a woman whom your mother would call a 'snake in the grass.' " "Precisely so," answered Kate. "That is just what mother says of her, and yet nearly all the village are ready to fall down and worship her." " Let them, then," said Mag ; " I have no objections, provided they keep their molten calf to themselves. No one wants her here. But what is it about her ? tell me." Briefly then Kate told how Mr. Hamilton was, and for a long time had been, in the habit of spending one eve- ning every week with Mrs. Carter ; and that people, not without good cause, were already pointing her out as the future mistress of the homestead. " Never, never ! " cried Ma^, vehemently. " Never shall she come here. She our mother, indeed ! It shall not be, if I can prevent it." After a little further conversation, Kate departed, leaving Mag to meditate upon the best means by which to avert the threatened evil. What Kate had told her was true. Mr. Hamilton had so many questions to ask concerning his old classmates, and Mrs. Carter had so much to tell, that, though they had worked industriously all winter, they were not through yet ; neither would they be until Mrs. Carter found herself again within the old homestead. The night following Kate's visit, Mag determined to Bpcak with her father ; but immediately after tea he went out, saying he should not return until nine o'clock. With a great effort Mag forced down the angry words which she felt rising within her, and then seating herself at her work, 36 THE HOMESTEAD OX THE HILLSIDE. she resolved to await his return. Not a word on the sub- ject did she say to Carrie, who retired to her room at half past eight, as was her usual custom. Alone, now, Margaret waited. Nine, ten, eleven had been struck, and then into the sitting-room came Mr. Hamilton, greatly astonished at finding his daughter there. " Why, Margaret," said he, " why are you sitting up so late ? " " If it is late for me, it is late for you," answered Mar- garet, who, now that the trial had come, felt the awk- wardness of the task she had undertaken. " But I had business," answered Mr. Hamilton ; and Margaret, looking him steadily in the face, askecl, "Is not your business of a riature which equally concerns us all?" A momentary flush passed over his features, as he re- plied, " What do you mean ? I do not comprehend." Hurriedly, and in broken sentences, Margaret told him what she meant, and then tremblingly she waited for his answ.er. Frowning .angrily, he spoke to his daughter the first harsh words which had ever passed his lips toward either of his children. " Go to your room, and don't presume to interfere with me again. I trust I am competent to tend to my own matters ! " Almost convulsively Margaret's arms closed round her father's neck, as she said, " Don't speak so to me, father. You never did before never would now, but for her. Oh, father, promise me, by the memory of my ange] mother, never to see her again. She is a base, designing woman." Mr. Hamilton unwound his daughter's arms from his neck, and speaking more gently, said, " What proof hav KATE KIRBY. SJ you of that assertion? Give me proof, and I promise to fro your bidding." But Mag hud no such proof at hand, and she could only rciu-rate her.suspicions, her belief, which, of course, failed to' convince the biased man, who, rising, said, " Your mother confided aud trusted hi her, so why should not "you ? The next moment Margaret was alone. For a long time she wept, and it was not until the eastern horizon began to grow gray in the morning twilight, that she laid her head upon her pillow, and forgot in sleep how unhappy she had been. Her words, however, were not without their effect, for when the night came round on which her father was accustomed to pay his weekly visit, he staid at home, spending the whole evening with his daughters, and appearing really gratified at Margaret's efforts to entertain him. But, alas! the chain of the wilo\v was too firmly thrown around him for a daugh- ter's hand alone to sever the fast bound links. When the next Thursday evening came, Mag was con- fined to her room by a sick headache, from which she had been suffering all day. As night approached, she fre- quently asked if her father were below. At last, the front door opened, and she heard his step upon the pi- azza. Starting up, she hurried to the window, while at the same moment Mr. Hamilton paused, and raising his eyes, .saw the white face of his daughter pressed against the window-pane, as she looked imploringly after him ; but there was not enough of power in a single look to de- ter him, and, wafting her a kiss, he turned away. Sadly Mnriraret watched him, until he disappeared down the long hill ; then, returning to her couch, she wept bitterly. Meantime, Mrs. Carter, who had been greatly chagrined at the non-appearance of Mr. Hamilton the week before, 88 THE HOMESTEAD ON THE HILLSIDE. was now confidently expecting him. He had not yet asked her to be his wife, and the delay somewhat annoyed both herself and Lenora. " I declare, mother," said Lenora, " I should suppose you might contrive up something to b v *ng matters to a focus. I think it's perfectly ridiculous to see two old crones, who ought to be trotting their grandchildren, cooing and simpering away at each other, and all for nothing, too." " Can't you be easy a while longer ?" asked Mrs. Car- ter; "hasn't he said everything he can say, except, 'will you marry me ? ' " "A very important question, too," returned Lenora; " and I don't know what business you have to expect any- thing from him until it is asked." " Mr. Hamilton is proud," answered Mrs. Carter " is afraid of doing anything which might possibly lower him. Now, if by any means I could make him believe that I had received an oifer from some one fully if not more than his equal, I think it would settle the matter, and I've decided upon the following plan. I'll write a proposal myself, sign old Judge B 's name to it, and next time Mr. Hamilton comes, let him surprise me in reading it. Then, as he is such a dear, long tried friend, it will be quite proper for me to confide in him, and ask his advice." Lenora's eyes opened wider, as she exclaimed, "My gracious ! who, but you, would ever have thought of that." Accordingly the letter was written, sealed, directed, broken open, laughed over, and laid away in the stand drawer. "Mr. Hamilton, mother," said Lenora, as half an hour afterward, she ushered that gentleman into the room, KATE KIRBY. 39 But so wholly absorbed was the black bombasin and linen collar in the contents of an open letter, which she hold in her hand, that the words were twice repeated, " Mr. Hamilton, mother" ere sh'e raised her eyes ! Then com- ing forward with well-feigned confusion, she apologized for not having observed him before, saying she was sure he would excuse her if he knew the contents of her letter. Of course he wanted to know, and of course she didn't want to tell. He was too polite to urge her, and the con- versation soon took another channel. After a time Lenora left the room, and Mrs. Carter, again speaking of the letter, begged to make a confidant of Mr. Hamilton, and ask his advice. He heard the let- ter read through, and after a moment's silence, asked, " Do you like him, Mrs. Carter ?" "Why, no, I don't think I do," said she, "but then the widow's lot is so lonely." " I know it is," sighed he, while through the keyhole of the opposite door came something which sounded very much like a stifled laugh ! It was the hour of Ernest Hamilton's temptation, and but for" the remembrance of the sad, white face which had gazed so sorrowfully at him from the window, he had fallen. But Maggie's presence seemed with him, her voice whispered in his ear, " Don't do it, father, don't," and he calmly answered that it would be a good match. But he could not, no he could not advise her to marry him ; so he qualified what he had said by asking her not to be in a hurry, to wait awhile. The laugh through the keyhole was changed to a hiss, which Mrs. Carter said must be the wind, although there was not enough stirring to move the rose bushes which grew by the door step ! So much was Mr. Hamilton held in thrall by the widow, that on his way home he hardly knew whether to be glad 40 THE HOMESTEAD ON THE HILLSIDE. or sorry that he had not proposed. If Judge B would marry her she surely was good enough for him. . Anon, too, he recalled her hesitation aboatf confessing that the judge was indifferenlTto her. Jealousy crept in, and completed what flattery and intrigue had commenced. One week from that night Ernest Hamilton and Luella Carter were engaged, but for appearance's sake, their marriage was not to take place until the ensuing autumn. CHAPTER VI. , EAISING THE WIND. " WHERE are you going now ?" asked Mrs. Carter of her daughter, as she saw her preparing to go out one afternoon, a few weeks after the engagement. " Going to raise the wind," was the answer. " Going to what ?" exclaimed Mrs. Carter. "To raise the wind! Are you deaf ?" yelled Lenora. " Raise the wind ! " repeated Mrs. Carter ; " what do you mean ? " " Mean what I say," said Lenora ; and closing the door after her she left her mother to wonder " what fresh mis- chief the little torment was at." But she was only going to make a friendly call on Margaret and Carrie, the latter of whom she had heard was sick. , " Is Miss Hamilton at home ? " asked she of the ser- vant girl, who answered her ring, and whom she had never seen before. RAISING THE WIND. 41 Yes, ma'am ; walk in the parlor. "What name shall I give her if you please?" ".Miss Carter, Lenora Carter ;" and the servant girl departed, repeating to herself all the way up the stairs, ' Miss Carther, Lenora Carther ! " " Lenora Carter want to see me ! " exclaimed Mag, who, together with Kate Kirby, was hi her sister's room. " Yes, ma'am ; an' sure 'twas Miss Hampleton she was wishin' to see," said the Irish girl. " Well, I shall not go down," answered Mag. " Tell her, Rachel, that I am otherwise engaged." " Oh, Maggie," said Carrie, " why not see her ? I would if I were you." " Rachel can ask her up here if you wish it," answered Mag, " but I shall leave the room." " Faith, an' what shall I do ? " asked Rachel, who waa fresh from " swate Ireland " and felt puzzled to know why a " silk frock and smart bonnet " should not always be welcome. " Ask her up," answered Kate. " I've never seen her nearer than across the church and have some curiosity " A moment after Rachel thrust her head in at the par- lor door, saying, " If you please, ma'am, Miss Marget is engaged, and does not want to see you, but Miss Carrie says you may i ome up there." " Very well," said Lenora ; and tripping after the ser- vant girl, she was soon in Carrie's room. After retailing nearly all the gossip of which she waa mistress, she suddenly turned to Carrie, and said, " Did you know that your father was going to be married ? " " My father going to be married ! " said Carrie, open- ing her blue eyes in astonishment. " My father going to be married ! To whom, pray ? " " To a lady from the east, one whom he used to know 42 THE HOMESTEAD ON THE HILLSIDE. and flirt with when he was in college ! " was Lenora'a grave reply. " What is her name ? " asked Kate. " Her name ? Let me see, Miss Blackwell, Black mer, Blackheart. It sounds the most like Blackheart." " What a queer name," said Kate, " but tell us what opportunity has Mr. Hamilton had of renewing his early acquaintance with the lady." " Don't you know he's been east this winter ? " asked Lenora. " Yes, as far as Albany," answered Carrie. " Well," continued Lenora, " 't was during his eastern trip that the matter was settled ; but pray don't repeat it from me, except it be to Maggie, who, I dare say, will feel glad to be relieved of her heavy responsibilities ; but as I live, Carrie, you are crying ! What is the matter ? " But Carrie made no answer, and for a time wept on in silence. She could not endure the thought that another would so soon take the place of her lost mother in the household and in the affections of her father. There was, besides, something exceedingly annoying in the manner of her who communicated the intelligence, and secretly Carrie felt glad that the dreaded, " Miss Blackheart " had, of course, no Lenora to bring with her ! " Do you know all this to be true ? " asked Kate. " Perfectly true," said Lenora. " We have friends liv- ing in the vicinity of the lady, and there can be no mis- take, except indeed in the name, which I am not sure in right ! " Then hastily kissing Carrie, the little hussy went away, very well satisfied with her afternoon's call. As soon as she was out of hearing Margaret entered her sister's room, and oh noticing Carrie's flushed cheek and red eyes, in- RAISING THE WINE 43 quired the cause. Immediately Kate told her what Le- nora had said, but instead of weeping as Came had done, she betrayed no emotion whatever. " Why, Maggie, ain't you sorry ? " asked Carrie. " No, I am glad," returned Mag. " I've seen all along that sooner or later father would make himself ridiculous, and I'd rather he'd marry forty women from the east, than one woman not far from here whom I know." All that afternoon Mag tripped with unwonted gayety about the house. A weight was lifted from her heart, for in her estimation, any one whom her father would marry was preferable to Mrs. Carter. Oh, how the widow scolded the daughter, and how the daughter laughed at the widow, when she related the par- ticulars of her call. " Lenora, what could have possessed you to tell such a He?" said Mrs. Carter. "Not so fast, mother mine," answered Lenora. "'T was n't a lie. Mr. Hamilton is engaged to a lady from the east. He did flirt with her in his younger days ; and, pray, didn't he have to come east when he called to inquire after his beloved classmates, and ended by getting checkmated! Besides I think you ought to thank me for turning the channel of gossip in another direction, for now you will be saved from all impertinent questions and remarks." This mode of reasoning failed to convince the widow, who felt quite willing that people should know of her flattering prospects ; and when, a few days after, Mrs. Dr. Otis told her that Mrs. Kimball said that Polly; Lar- k'uis said, that her hired girl told her, that Mrs Kirby's 44 THE HOMESTEAD ON THE HILLSIDE. hired girl told her, that she overheard Miss Kate telling her mothei*, that Lenora Carter said that Mr. Hamilton was going to be married to her mother's intimate friend, Mrs. Carter would have denied the whole, and probably divulged her own secret, had not Lenora, who chanced to 'be present, declared, with the coolest effrontery, that 'twas all true that her mother had promised to stand up with them ; and so folks would find it to be if they did not die of curiosity before autumn ! Lenora, child, how can you talk so ? " asked the dis tressed lady, as the door closed upon her visitor. Lenora went off into fits of explosive laughter, bound- ing iip and down like an India rubber ball, and at last condescended to say, " I know what I'm about. Do you want Mag Hamilton breaking up the match, as she surely would do, between this and autumn, if she knew it ? " " And what can she do ? " asked Mrs. Carter. " Why, returned Lenora, " can't she write to the place you came from, if, indeed, such a spot can be found, for I believe you sometimes book yourself from one town and sometimes from another ? But depend upon it, you had better take my advice and keep still, and in the de- nouement which follows, I alone shall be blamed for a slight stretch of truth which you can easily excuse, as " one of dear Lenora's silly, childish freaks ! " Upon second thoughts Mrs. Carter concluded to fol- low her daughter's advice, and the next time Mr. Ham- ilton called, she laughingly told the story which Lenora had set afloat, saying, by way of excuse, that the dear girl did not like to hear her mother joked on the subject of matrimony, and had turned the attention of people another way. Mr. Hamilton hardly relished this, and half wished, mayhap, as, indeed, gentlemen generally do in similar cir- RAISING THE WIND. 45 cumstances, that the little " objection " in the shape of Lenora, had never had existence, or at least had never called the widow mother I CHAPTER VH. THE STEP-MOTHEE. RAPIDLY the summer was passing away, and as autumn drew near, the wise gossips of Glenwood began to whis- per that the lady from the easj was in danger of being supplanted in her rights by the widow, whose house Mr. Hamilton was known to visit two or three times each week. But Lenora had always some plausible story on hand. "Mother and the lady had been so ultimate in fact more than once rocked in the same cradle and 'twas no wonder Mr. Hamilton came often to a place where he could hear so much about her." So when business again took Mr. Hamilton to Albany, suspicion was wholly lulled, and Walter, on his return from college, was told by Mag that her fears concerning Mrs. Carter were groundless. During the spring, Carrie had been confined to her bed, but now she seemed much better, and after Walter had been at home awhile, he proposed that he and his sisters should take a traveling excursion, going first to Saratoga, thence to Lake Cham- plain and Montreal, and returning home by way of Canada and the Falls. This plan Mr.Hamilton warmly seconded, and \\hen Carrie asked if -he would not feel lonely, he answered, " Oh, no ; Willie and I will do very well while you are gone." 46 THE HOMESTEAD ON THE HILLSIDE. " But who will stay with Willie evenings, when you are away ? " asked Mag, looking her father steadily in the face. Mr. Hamilton colored slightly, but after a moment, re- plied : " I shall spend my evenings at home." "'Twill be what he hasn't done for many a week," thought Mag, as she again busied herself with her preparations. The morning came, at last, on which our travelers were to leave. Kate Kirby had been invited to accompany them, but her mother would not consent. "It would give people too much chance for talk," she said ; so Kate was obliged to content herself with going as far as the depot, and watching, until out of sight, the car which bore them away. Upon the piazza stood the little group, awaiting the arrival of the carriage, which was to convey them to the station. Mr. Hamilton seemed unusually gloomy, and with folded arms paced up and down the long piazza, rarely speaking or noticing any one. " Are you sorry we are going, father ? " asked Carrie, going up to him. " If you are, I will gladly stay with you." Mr. Hamilton paused, and pushing back the fair hair from his daughter's white brow, he kissed her tenderly, saying, " No, Carrie ; I want you to go. The journey will do you good, for you are getting too much the look your poor mother used to wear." Why thought he then of Carrie's mother ? Was it be- cause he knew that ere his child returned to him, another would be in that mother's place ? Anon, Margaret came near, and motioning Carrie away, Mr. Hamilton took his other daughter's hand, and led her to the end of the piazza, where could easily be seen the little grave-yard, THE STEP-MOTHER. 4? and tall white monument pointing toward the bright blue sky, where dwelt the one whose grave that costly marble marked. Pointing out the spot to Margaret, he said, " Tell me truly, Maggie, did you love your iather or your mother best If " Mag looked wonderingly at him a moment, and then replied, " While mother lived, I loved her more than you, but now that she is dead, I think of and love you as both father and mother." " And will you always love me thus ? " asked he. "Always," was Mag's reply, as she looked curiously in her father's face, and thinking that he had not said what he intended to when first he drew her there. Just then the carnage drove up, and after a few good- bys and parting words, Ernest Hamilton's children were gone, and he was left alone. " Why didn't I tell her, as I intended to ? " thought ne. " Is it because I fear her, fear my own child ? No, it cannot be, and yet there is that in her eye which sometimes makes me quail, and which, if necessary, would keep at bay a dozen step-mothers. But neither she, nor either one of them, has ought to dread from Mrs. Carter, whose presence will, I think, be of great benefit to us all, and whose gentle manners, I trust, will tend to soften Ma"-!" ~^ Meantime his children were discussing and wondering at the strange mood of their father. Walter, however, took no part in the conversation. He had lived longer than his sisters, had seen more of human nature, and had his own suspicions with regard to what would take place during their absence; but he could not spoil all .Margaret's happiness by telling her his thoughts, so he kept them to himself, secretly resolving to make the best 48 THE HOMESTEAD O3f THE HILLSIDE. of whatever might occur, and to advise Mag to do the same. Now for a time we leave them, and take a look into the cottage of Widow Carter, where, one September morn- ing, about three weeks after the departure of the llamil tons, preparations were making for some great event. In the kitchen a servant girl was busily at work, while in the parlor Lenora was talking and the widow was listening. " Oh, mother," said Lenora, " isn't it so nice that they went away just now ? But won't Mag look daggers at us, when she comes home and finds us in quiet possession, and is told to call you mother ! " " I never expect her to do that," answered Mrs. Carter. " The most I can hope for is that she will call me Mrs. Hamilton." "Now really, mother, if I were in Mag's place, I wouldn't please you enough to say Mrs. Hamilton ; I'd always oall you Mrs. Carter," said Lenora. " How absurd," was the reply ; and Lenora continued : " I know it's absurd, but Pd do it ; though if she does, I, as the dutiful child of a most worthy parent, shall feel compelled to resent the insult by calling her father Mr. Carter ! " By this tune Mrs. Carter was needed in the kitchen ; so, leaving Lenora, who at once was the pest and torment of her mother's life, we will go into the village and see what effect the approaching nuptials were producing. It was now generally known that the " lady from the east " who had been " rocked in Mrs. Carter's cradle," was none other than Mrs. Carter herself, and many were the re- proving looks which the people had cast toward Lenora for the trick slae had put upon them. The little hussy only laughed at them good humoredly, telling them they Were angry because she had cheated them out of five THE STEP-MOTHER. 40 months' gossip, and that if her mother could have had her way, she would have sent the news to the Herald and had it inserted under the head of " Awful Catastrophe ! " Thus Mrs. Carter was exonerated from all blame ; but many a wise old lady shook her head, saying, "How strange that so fine a woman as Mrs. Carter should have such a reprobate of a daughter." When this remark came to Lenora's ears, she cut nu- merous flourishes, which ended in the upsetting of a bowl of starch on her mother's new black silk ; then dancing before the highly indignant lady, she said, " Perhaps if they knew what a scapegrace you represent my father to have been, and how you whipped me once to make me say I saw him strike you, when I never did, they would wonder at my being as good as I am." Mrs. Carter was too furious to venture a verbal reply ; BO seizing the starch bowl, she hurled it with the remain- der of the contents at the head of the little vixen, who, with an elastic bound, not entirely unlike a summerset, dodged the missile, which passed on and fell upon the hearth rug. This is but one of a series of similar scenes, which oc- curred between the widow and her child before the happy day arrived, when, in the presence of a select few of the villagers, Luella Carter was transformed into Luella Ham- ilton. The ceremony was scarcely over, when Mr. Ham- ilton, who for a few days had been rather indisposed, complained of feeling sick. Immediately Lenora, with a sidelong glance at her mother, exclaimed, " What, sick of your bargain so quick? It's sooner, even, than I thought 'twould be, and I'm sure I'm capable of judging." u Dear Lenora," said Mrs. Carter, turning toward one C 4 50 THE HOMESTEAD ON THE HILLSID^. of her neighbors, " she has such a flow of spirits, that I am afraid Mr. Hamilton will find her troublesome. " Don't be alarmed, mother ; he'll never think of me when you are around," was Lenora's reply, in which Mrs. Carter saw more than one meaning. That evening the bridal party repaired to the home- stead, where, at Mr. Hamilton's request, Mrs. Kirby was waiting to receive them. Willie had been told by the servants that his mother was coming home that night, and, with the trusting faith of childhood, he had drawn a chair to the window from which he could see his mother's grave ; and there for more than an hour he watched for the first indications of her coming, saying, occasionally v " Oh, I wish she'd come. Willie's so sorry here." At last growing weary and discouraged, he turned away and said, " No ma '11 never come home again ; Mag- gie said she wouldn't." Upon the carriage road which wound from the street to the house, there was the sound of coming wheels, and Rachel, seizing Willie, bore him to the front door, ex- claiming, " An' faith, Willie, don't you see her ? That's your mother, honey, with the black gown." But Willie saw only the wild eyes of Lenora, who caught him in her arms, overwhelming him with caresses. " Let me go, Leno," said he " I want to see my ma. Where is she ? " A smile of scorn curled Lenora's lips, as she released him, and leading him toward her mother, she said, "There she is; there's your ma. Now hold up your head and make a bow." Willie's lip quivered, his eyes filled with tears, and hiding his face in his apron, he sobbed, " I want my own ma, the one they shut up in a big black box. Where is she, Leno ? THE STEIVMOTHER. 51 Mr. Hamilton took Willie on his knee, and tried to ex plain to him, ho\v that no\v his own mother was dead, he had got a new one, who would love him and be kind to him. Then putting him down, he said, " Go, my son, and epeuk tc her, won't you ? " Willie advanced rather cautiously toward the black silk figure, which reached out its hand, saying, "Dear Willie, you'll love me a little, won't you ? " " Yes, if you are good to me," was the answer, which made the new step-mother mentally exclaim, " A young rebel, I know," while Lenora, bending between the two, whispered emphatically, " She ahull be good to you ! " And soon, in due order, the servants were presented to their new mistress. Some were disposed to like her, others eyed her askance, and old Polly Pepper, the black cook, who had been in the family ever since Mr. Hamil- ton's first marriage, returned her salutation rather gruffly, and then, stalking back to the kitchen, muttered to those who followed her, " I don't like her face no how ; she looks just like the milk-snakes, when they stick their heads in at the door." " But you knew how she looked before," said Lucy, the chambermaid. " I know it," returned Polly ; " but when she was here nussin', I never noticed her, more'n I would any on you ; for who'd of thought that Mr. Hamilton would marry her, when he knows, or or'to know, that nusses ain't fust cut, no how ; and you may depend on't, things ain't a goin' to be here as they used to be." Here Rachel started up, and related the circumstance of Margaret's refusing to see " that little evil-eyed lookin' varmint, with curls almost like Polly's." Lucy, too, suddenly remembered something which she had seen, or heard, or made up, so that Mrs. Carter had 52 THE HOMESTEAD ON THE HILLSIDE. not been an hour in the coveted homestead ere there was mutiny against her afloat in the kitchen; "But," said Aunt Polly, " I 'vises you all to be civil till she sasses you fust ! " My dear, what room can Lenora have for her own ? " asked Mrs, Hamilton, as we must now call her, the morn- ing following her marriage. " Why, really, I don't know," answered the husband ; " you must suit yourselves with regard to that." " Yes ; but I'd rather you'd select, and then no one can blame me," was the answer. " Choose any room you please, except the one which Mag and Carrie now occupy, and rest assured you shall not be blamed," said Mr. Hamilton. The night before, Lenora had appropriated to herself the best chamber, but the room was so large and so far distant from any one, and the windows and fireboard rat- tled so, that she felt afraid, and did not care to repeat her experiment. "I 'clar for't!" said Polly, when she heard of it, " Gone right into the best bed, where even Miss Marga- ret never goes ! What are we all comin' to ? Tell her, Luce, the story of the ghosts, and I'll be bound she'll make herself scarce in them rooms ! " " Tell her yourself," said Lucy ; and when, after break- fast, Lenora, anxious to spy out everything, appeared in *,h kitchen, Aunt Polly called out, " Did you hear any- thing last night, Miss Lenora ? " " Why, yes I heard the windows rattle," was the an- swer ; and Aunt Polly, with an ominous shake of the head, continued : " There's more than windows rattle, I THE STEP-MOTHER. 63 guess. Didn't you see nothin', all white and corpse-like^ go a whizzin' and rappin' by your bed ? " " Why, no," said Lenora ; " what do you mean ? " So Polly told her of the ghosts and goblins which nightly ranged the two chambers, over the front and back parlors. Lenora said nothing, but she secretly resolved not to venture again after dark into the haunted portion of the house. But where should she sleep ? That was now the important question. Adjoining the sitting-roora was a pleasant, cozy little place, which Margaret called her music-room. In it she kept her piano, her music- stand, books, and several fine plants, besides numerous other little conveniences. At the end of this room was a large closet, where, at different seasons of the year, Mag hung away the articles of clothing which she and her sis- ter did not need. Toward this place Lenora turned her eyes ; for, besides being unusually pleasant, it was also very near her mother, whose sleeping-room joined, though it did not communi- cate with it. Accordingly, before noon the piano was re- moved to the parlor; the plants were placed, some on the piazza, and some in the sitting-room window, while Margaret and Carrie's dresses were removed to the closet of their room, which chanced to be a trifle too small to hold them all conveniently ; so they were crowded one above the other, and left for " the girls to see to when they came home ! " In perfect horror Aunt Polly looked on, regretting for once the ghost story which she had told. "Why don't you take the chamber jinin' the young la-- dies ? that ain't haunted," said she, when they sent for her to help move the piano. "Miss Margaret won't thank you for scatterin' her things." 54 THE HOMESTEAD ON THE HILLSIDE. " You've nothing to do with Lenora," said Mrs. Ham- ilton ; " you've only to attend to your own matters." " Wonder then what I'm up here for a h'istin' this pl- anner," muttered Polly. "This ain't my matters, sartin'." When Mr. Hamilton came hi to dinner, he was shown the little room with its single bed, tiny bureau, silken lounge and easy chair, of which the last two were Mag'a especial property. " All very nice," said he, " but where is Mag's piano ? " " In the parlor," answered his wife. " Peopled often ask for music, and it is more convenient to have it there, than to come across the hah 1 and through the sitting- room." Mr. Hamilton said nothing, "but he secretly wished Mag's rights had not been Invaded quite so soon. His wife must have guessed as much ; for, laying her hand on his, she, with the. utmost deference, offered to undo all she had done, if it did not please him. "Certainly not certainly *iot; it does please me," said he ; while Polly, who stood on the cellar stairs lis- tening, exclaimed, " "What a fool a woman can make of a man ! " Three days after Mr. Hamilton's marriage, he received a letter from Walter, saying that they would be at home on the Thursday night following. Willie was in ecstasies, for though, as yet, he liked his new mother tolerably well, he still loved Maggie better ; and the thought of seeing her again made him wild with delight. All day long on Thursday he sat in the doorway, listening for the shrill cry of the train which was to bring her home. " Don't you love Maggie ? " said he to Lenora, who chanced to pass him. "Don't I love Maggie? No, I don't; neither does she love me," was the answer, THE STEP-MOTHER 55 Willie was puzzled to know why any one should not like Mag ; but his confidence in her was not at all shaken, and when, soon after sunset, Lenora cried, "There, they've come," he rushed to the door, and was soon in the arms of his sister-mother. Pressing his lips to hers, he said, "Did you know I'd got a new mother? Mrs. Carter and Leno they are in there," pointing toward the parlor. Instantly Mag dropped him. It was the first intima- tion of her father's marriage which she had received, and reeling backward, she would have fallen, had not Walter supported her. Quickly rallying, she advanced toward her father, who came to meet her, and whose hand trem- bled in her grasp. After greeting each of his children, he turned to present them to his wife, wisely taking Car- rie first. She was not prejudiced, like Mag, and returned her step-mother's salutation with something like affec- tion, for which Lenora rewarded her by terming her a 'little simpleton." But Mag she who had warned her father against that woman she who on her knees had begged him not to marry her she had no word of welcome, and when Mrs. Hamilton offered her hand, she affected not to see it, though, with the most frigid politeness, she said, " Good evening, madam ; this is, indeed, a surprise ! " " And not a very pleasant one, either, I imagine," whis- pered Lenora to Carrie. Walter came last, and though he took the lady's hand, there was something in his manner which plainly said, she was not wanted there. Tea was now announced, an Mag bit her lip when she saw her accustomed seat occu- pied by another. Feigning to recollect herself, Mrs. Hamilton, in the 56 THE HOMESTEAD ON THE HILLSIDE. blandest tones, said, " Perhaps, dear Maggie, you would prefer this seat ? " " Of course not," said Mag ; while Lenora thought to herself, "And if she* does, I wonder what good it will do?" That young lady, however, made no remarks, for Wal- ter Hamilton's searching eyes were upon her and kept her silent. After tea, Walter said, " Come, Mag, I have not heard your piano in a long tune. Give us some music." Mag arose to comply with his wishes, but ere she had reached the door, Mrs. Hamilton, gently detained her, saying, " Maggie, dear, Lenora has always slept near me, and as I knew you would not object, if you were here, I took the liberty to remove your piano to the parlor, and to fit this up for Lenora's sleeping room. See " and she threw open the door, disclosing the metamorphose, while Willie, who began to get an inkling of matters, and who always called the piazza " out doors," chimed in, " And they throw'd your little trees out doors, too !" Mag stood for a moment, mute with astonishment ; then, thinking she could not " do the subject justice," she turned silently away. A roguish smile from Walter met her eye, but she did not laugh, until, with Carrie, she repaired to her own room, and tried to put some- thing in the closet. Then coming upon the pile of extra clothes, she exclaimed, " What in the world ! Here's all our winter clothing, and, as I live, five dresses crammed upon one nail ! We'll have to move to the barn, next ! " This was too much, and sitting down, Mag cried and laughed alternately. DOMESTIC LIFE AT THE HOMESTEAD. 57 CHAPTER VHI. DOMESTIC LIFE AT THE HOMESTEAD. FOR a few weeks after Margaret's return, matters at the homestead glided on smoothly enough, but at the end of that time Mrs. Hamilton began to reveal her real char- acter. Carrie's journey had not been as beneficial as he* father had hoped it would be, and as the days grew colder, she complained of extreme languor and a severe pain in her side, and at last kept her room entirely, notwithstand- ing the numerous hints from her step-mother, that it was no small trouble to carry so many dishes up and down three times a day. Mrs. Hamilton was naturally very stirring and active, and in spite of her remarkable skill in nursing, she felt ex- ceedingly annoyed when any of her own family were ill. She fancied, too, that Carrie was feigning all her bad feelings, and that she would be much better if she ex- erted herself more. Accordingly, one afternoon when Mag was gone, she repaired to Carrie's room, giving vent to her opinion as follows: "Carrie," said she, (she now dropped the dear, when Mr. Hamilton was not by,) "Car- rie, I shouldn't suppose you'd ever expect to get well, so long as you stay moped up here all day. You ought to come down stairs, and stir round more." " Oh, I should be so glad if I could," "answered Carrie. " Could ! " repeated Mrs. Hamilton ; " you could if you would. Now, it's my opinion that you complain *' together too much, and fancy you are a great deal worse than you really are, when all you \rant is t xrivise. A short walk on the piazza, and a little fresh air, each morn ing, would soon cure you." C* 58 THE HOMESTEAD ON THE HILLSIDE. " I know fresh air does me good," said Carrie ; " but walking makes my side ache so hard, and makes me cough so, that Maggie thinks I'd better not." Mag, quoted as authority, exasperated Mrs. Hamilton, who replied, rather sharply, " Fudge on Mag's old-maid- ish whims ! I know that any one who eats as much as you do, can't be so very weak ! " " I don't eat half you send me," said poor Carrie, be- ginning to cry at her mother's unkind remarks ; " Willie most always comes up here and eats with me." " For mercy's sake, mother, let the child have what she wants to eat, for 'tisn't long she'll need it," said Lenora, suddenly appearing in the room. " Lenora, go right down ; you are not wanted here," said Mrs. Hamilton. " Neither are you, I fancy," was Lenora's reply, as she coolly seated herself on the foot of Game's bed, while her mother continued : " Really, Carrie, you must try and come down to your meals, for you have no idea how much it hinders the work, to bring them up here. Polly isn't good for anything until she has conjured up some- thing extra for your breakfast, and then they break so many dishes ! " " I'll try to come down to-morrow," said Carrie, meek- ly ; and, as the door bell just then rang, Mrs. Hamilton departed, leaving her with Lenora, whose first exclama- tion was, " If I were in your place, Carrie, I wouldn't eat anything, and die quick." " I don't want to die," said Carrie ; and Lenora, clap- ping her hands together, replied, " Why, you poor little innocent, who supposed you did ? Nobody wants to die, not even J", good as I am ; but I should expect to, if I had the consumption.*- " Lenora, have I got the consumption ? " asked Carrie DOMESTIC LIFE AT THE HOMESTEAD. 59 fixing her eyes with mournful earnestness upon her com- panion, who thoughtlessly replied : " To be sure you have. They say one lung is entirely gone, and the other nearly so." Wearily the sick girl turned upon her side ; and, rest- ing her dimpled cheek upon her hand, she said, softly, " Go away now, Lenora ; I want to be alone." Lenora complied, and whin Margaret returned from the village, she found her sister lying in the same posi- tion hi which Lenora had left her, with her fair hair fail ing over her face, which it hid from view. "Are you asleep, Carrie ? " said Mag; but Carrie made no answer, and there was something so still and motion- less in her repose, that Mag went up to her, and pushing back from her face the long silken hair, saw that she had fainted. The excitement of her step-mother's visit, added to the startling news which Lenora had told her, were too much for her weak nerves, and for a time she remained insensi- ble. At length, rousing herself, she looked dreamily around, saying, "Was it a dream, Maggie all a dream? " " Was what a dream, love ? " said Margaret, support- ing her sister's head upon her bosom. Suddenly Carrie remembered the whole, but she re- solved not to tell of her step-mother's visit, though she earm'stly desired to know if what Lenora had told her were true. Raising herself, so that she could see Margaret's face, she said, " Maggie, is there no hope for me ; and do the physicians say I must die ? " " Why, what do you mean ? I never knew that they eaid so," answered Mag ; and then with breathless indig- nation she listened, while Carrie told her what Lenora had said. " I'll see that she doesn't get in here again," said Margaret. " I know she made more than half of 60 THE HOMESTEAD ON THE HILLSIDE. that up ; for, though the physicians say your lungs are very much diseased, they have never said that you could not recover." The next morning, greatly to Mag's astonishment, Car- rie insisted upon going down to breakfast. " Why, you must not do it ; you are not able," said Mag. But Carrie was determined ; and, wrapping her- self in her thick shawl, she slowly descended the staira, though the cold air in the long hall made her shiver. " Carrie, dear, you are better this morning, and there is quite a rosy flush on your cheek," said Mrs. Hamilton, rising to meet her. (Mr. Hamilton, be it remembered, was present.) But Carrie shrank instinctively from her step-mother's advances, and took her seat by the side of her father. After breakfast, Mag remembered that she had an er- rand in the village, and Carrie, who felt too weary to re- turn immediately to her room, said she would wait be- low until her sister returned. Mag had been gone but a few moments, when Mrs. Hamilton, opening the outer door, called to Lenora, saying, " Come and take a few turns on the piazza with Carrie. The air is bracing this morning, and will do her good." Willie, who was present, cried out, " No Carrie is sick ; she can't walk Maggie Said she couldn't," and he grasped his sister's hand to hold her. With a not very gentle jerk, Mrs. Hamilton pulled him oiF, while Lenora, who came bobbing and bounding into the room, took Game's arm, saying, ".Oh yes, I'll walk with you; shall we have a hop, skip, or jump ? " " Don't, don't ! " said Carrie, holding back ; " I can't walk fast, Lenora," and actuated by some sudden impulse of kindness, Lenora conformed her steps to those of the invalid. Twice they walked up and down the piazza, and DOMESTIC LIFE AT THE HOMESTEAD. 61 were about turning for the third time, when Carrie, clasping IHM- hand over her side, exclaimed, "No, no; I can't again." Little Willie, who fancied that his sister was being hurt, sprang toward Lenora, saying, " Leno, you mustn't hurt Carrie. Let her go ; she's sick." And now to the scene of action came Dame Hamilton, and seizing her young step-son, she tore him away from Lenora, administering, at the same time, a bit of a moth erly shake. Willie's blood was up, and in return he dealt her blow, for which she rewarded him by another shake, and by tying him to the table. That Lenora was not all bad, was shown by the unself- ish affection she ever manifested for Willie, although her untimely interference between him and her mother often- times made matters worse. Thus, on the occasion of which we have been speaking, Mrs. Hamilton had scarcely left the room ere Lenora released Willie from his confine- ment, thereby giving him the impression that his mother alone was to blame. Fortunately, however, Margaret's judgment was better, and though she felt justly indig- nant at the cruelty practiced upon poor Carrie, she could not uphold Willie in striking his mother. Calling him to her room, she talked to him until he was wholly softened, and offered, of his own accord, to go and say he was sorry, provided Maggie would accompany liim as far as the door of the sitting-room, where his mother would probably be found. Accordingly, Mag descended the stairs with him, and meeting Lenora in the hah 1 , said, " Is she in the sit- ting-room ? " " Is she in the sitting room ? " repeated Lenora, " and pray who may she be ? " then quick as thought she added, " Oh, yes, I know. She is in there telling HE ! " Lenora was right in her conjecture, for Mrs. Hamilton, 62 THE HOJIESTEAD ON THE HILLSIDE. greatly enraged at Willie's presumption in striking her, and still more provoked at him for untying himself, as she supposed he had, was laying before her husband quite an aggravated case of assault and battery. In the midst of her argument Willie entered the room, with tear-stained eyes, and without noticing the pres- ence of his father, went directly to his mother, and burying his face in her lap, sobbed out, " Willie is sorry he struck you, pid will never do so again, if you will forgive him." In a much gentler tone than she would have assumed had not her husband been present, Mrs. Hamilton replied, " I can forgive you for striking me, Willie, but what have you to say about untying yourself? " "I didn't do it," said Willie, "Leno did that." " Be careful what you say," returned Mrs. Hamilton. " I can't believe Lenora would do so." Ere Willie had tune to repeat his assertion, Lenora, who all the time had been standing by the door, appeared, saying, " you may believe him, for he has never been whipped to make him lie. I did do it, and I would do it again." " Lenora," said Mr. Hamilton, rather sternly, " you should not interfere in that manner. You will spoil the child." It was the first time he had presumed to reprove hia step-daughter, and as there was nothing on earth which Mrs. Hamilton so much feared as Lenora's tongue, she dreaded the disclosures which farther remark from her husband might call forth. So, assuming an air of great distress, she said, " leave her to me, my dear. She is a strange girl, as I always told you, and no one can man- age her as well as myself." Then kissing Willie in token of forgiveness, she left the room, drawing Lenora after her and whispering fiercely in her ear, "how can you DOMESTIC LEFE AT TOE HOMESTEAD. 63 ever expect to succeed with the son, if you show off this way before the father." "With a mocking laugh, Lenora replied, "Pshaw! I gave that up the first time I ever saw him, for of course he thinks me a second edition of Mrs. Carter, minus any improvements. But, he's mistaken; I'm not half as bad as I seem. I'm only what you've made me." 31 rs. Hamilton turned away, thinking that if her daugh- ter could so easily give up Walter Hamilton, she jvould not. She was resolved upon an alliance between him and Lenora. And who ever knew her to fail in what she undertook ! She had wrung from her husband the confession, that "he believed there was a sort of childish affection be- tween Walter and Kate Kirby, though 'twas doubtful whither it ever amounted to anything." She had also learned that he was rather averse to the match, and though Lenora had not yet been named as a substitute for Kate, she strove, in many ways, to impress her hus- band with a sense of her daughter's superior abilities, at the same time taking pains to mortify Margaret by set- ting Lenora above her. For this, however, Margaret cared but little, and it was only when her mother ill-treated Willie, which she frequently did, that her spirit was fully roused. At Mrs. Hamilton's first marriage she had been pre- sented with a handsome glass pitcher, which she of course greatly prized. One day it stood upon the stand in her room, where Willie was also playing with some spools, which Lenora had found and arranged for him. Malta, the pet kitten, was amusing herself by running after the spools, and when at last Willie, becoming tired, laid them on the stand, she sprang toward them, upsetting the pitcher, which was broken hi a dozen pieces. On hearing 64 THE HOMESTEAD ON TiJK HILLSIDE. tlie crash, Mrs. Hamilton hastened toward the room, where the sight of her favorite pitcher in fragments greatly enraged her. Thinking, of course, that "Willie had done it, she rudely seized him by the arm, administered a cuff or so, and then dragged him toward the china closet. As soon as Willie could regain his breath, he screamed, " Oh, ma, don't shut me iip ; I'll be good ; I didn't do it, certain true ; kittie knocked it off." " None of your lies," said Mrs. Hamilton." It's likely kittie knocked it off! " Lenora, who had seen the whole, and knew that what Willie said was true, was about coming to the rescue, when looking up, she saw Margaret, with dilated nostrils and eyes flashing fire, watching the proceedings of her step-mother. " He's safe," thought Lenora ; " I'll let Mag fire the first gun, and then I'll bring up the rear." Margaret had never known Willie to tell a lie, and had O ' no reason for thinking he had done so in this instance. Besides, the blows her mother gave him exasperated her, and she stepped forward, just as Mrs. Hamilton was about pushing him into the closet. So engrossed was that lady that she heard not Margaret's approach, until a firm hand was laid upon her shoulder, while Willie was violently wrested from her grasp, and ere she could recover from her astonishment, she herself was pushed into the closet, the door of which was closed and locked against her. * Bravo, Margaret Hamilton," cried Lenora, "I'm with you now, if I never was before. It serves her right, for Willie told the truth. I was sitting by and saw it all. Keep her in there an hour, will you ? It will pay her for l,he many tunes she has shut me up for nothing." DOMESTIC LIFE AT THE HOMESTEAD. 60 Mrs. Hamilton stamped and pushed against the door, while Lenora danced and sung at the top of her voictf, "My dear precious mother got wrathy one day And seized litfle Will by the hair; But when in the closet she'd stow him away, She herself was pushed headlong in there." At length the bolt, yielding to the continued pressure of Mrs. Hamilton's body, broke, and out came the terma tr:int, foaming with rage. She dared not molest Margaret, of whose physical powers she had just received such mor tifying proof, so she armed a box at the ears of Lenora. But the lithe little thing dodged it, and with one bound cleared the table which sat in the center of the room, landing safely on the other side ; and then, shaking her short, black curls at her mother, she said, " You didn't come it, that time, my darling." Mr. Hamilton, who chanced to be absent for a few days, was, on his return, regaled with an exaggerated account of the proceeding, his wife ending her discourse by saying "If you don't do something with your up- start daughter, I'll leave the house ; yes, I will." Mr. Hamilton was cowardly. He was afraid of his wife, and he was afraid of Mag. So he tried to compro- mise the matter, by promising the one that he surely would see to it, and by asking the other if she were not ashamed. But old Polly didn't let the matter pass so easily. She was greatly shocked at having " such shame- ful carry in's on in a decent man's house." " ' Clare for't," said she, " I'll give marster a piece of Polly Pepper's mind the fust time I get a lick at him." la the course of a few days Mr. Hamilton had occasion to go for something into Aunt Polly's dominions. The old lady was ready for him. " Mr. Hampleton," said she, " I're been waitin' to see you this long spelL" 66 THE HOMESTEAD ON THE HILLSIDE. " To see me, Polly ? " said he ; " what do you want ? n " What I wants is this," answered Polly, dropping into a chair. " I want to know what this house is a comin' to, with such bedivilment hi it as there's been since madam came here with that little black-headed, ugly-favored, ill- begotten, Satan-possessed, shoulder-unj'inted young-one of her'n. It's been nothin' but a rowdedow the whole tune, and you hain't grit enough to stop it. Madam boxes Willie, and undertakes to shet him up for a lie he never told ; Miss Margaret interferes jest as she or'to, takes Willie away, and shets up madam ; while that ill-marnered Leuora jumps and screeches loud enough to wake the dead. Madam busts the door down, and pitches into the varmint, who jumps spang over a four foot table, which Lord knows I never could have done in my spryest days." " But how can I help all this ?" asked Mr. Hamilton. " Help it ? " returned Polly, " You needn't have got into the fire in the fust place. I hain't lived fifty odd year for nothin', and though I hain't no larnin', I know too much to heave myself away on the fust nussin' wo man that comes along." " Stop, Polly ; you must not speak so of M>-s Hamil- ton," said Mr. Hamilton ; while Polly continued : " And I wouldn't nuther, if she could hold a candle to the t'other one ; but she can't. You'd no business to marry a second tune, even if you didn't marry a nuss ; neither has any man, who's got growd up gals, and a faithful critter like Polly in the kitchen. Step-mothers don't often do well ; particularly them as is sot up by marryin'." Here Mr. Hamilton, who did not like to hear so much truth, left the kitchen, while Aunt Polly said to herself, " I've gin it to him good, this time." Lonora, who always happened to be near when she was DOMESTIC LIFE AT THE HOMESTEAD. 07 talked about, )i:ul overheard the whole, and repeated it to her mother. Accordingly, that very afternoon word came to the kitchen that Mrs. Hamilton wished to see Polly. "Reckon she'll find this child ain't afeard on her," said Polly, as she wiped the flour from her face and repaired to Mrs. Hamilton's room. "Polly," began that lady, with a very grave face, "Le- nora tells me that you have been talking very disrespect- fully to Mr. Hamilton." " In the name of the Lord, can't he fight his own bat- tles ? " interrupted Polly. " I only tried to show him that he was henpecked, and he is." " It isn't of him alone I would speak," resumed Mrs. Hamilton, with stately gravity ; " you spoke insultingly of me, and as I make it a practice never to keep a servant after they get insolent, I have "^ " For the dear Lord's sake," again interrupted Polly, " I 'spect we's the fust servants you ever had." " Good ! " said a voice from some quarter, and Mrs. Hamilton continued: "I^liave sent for you to give you twenty-four hours' warning to leave this house." " I shan't budge an inch until marster says so," said Polly. " Wonder who's the best ti tie deed her e ? Warn't I here long afore you come a nussin' t'other one ? " And Polly went back to the kitchen, secretly fearing that Mr. Hamilton, who she knew was wholly ruled by his wife, would say that she must go. And he did say so, though much against his will. Lenora ran with the de- cision to Aunt Polly, causing her to drop a loaf of new bread. But the old negress. chased her from the cellar with the oven broom, and then stealing by a back stair- case to Margaret's room, laid the case before her, ac- knowledging that she was sorry and asking her young 6 8 THE HOMESTEAD ON THE HILLSIDE. mistress to intercede for her. Margaret stepped to the head of the stairs, and calling to her father, requested him to come for a moment to her room. This he was more ready to do, as he had no suspicion why he was sent for, but on seeing old Polly, he half resolved to turn back Margaret, however, led him into the room, and then en- treated him not to send away one who had served him sc long, and so faithfully. Polly, too, joined in with her tears and prayers, saying, " She was an old black fool any way, and let her tongue get the better on her, though she didn't mean to say more than was true, and reckoned she hadn't." In his heart Mr. Hamilton wished to revoke what he had said, but dread of the explosive storm which he knew would surely follow, made him irresolute, until Carrie said, " Father, the first person of whom I have any definite recollection is Aunt Polly, and I shall be so lonesome if she goes away. For my sake let her stay, at least until I am dead." This decided the matter. " She shatt stay," said Mr. Hamilton, and Aunt Polly, highly elated, returned to the kitchen with the news. Lenora, who seemed to be every- where at once, overheard it, and, bent on mischief, ran with it to her mother. In the meantime, Mr. Hamilton wished, yet dreaded, to go down, and finally, mentally cursing himself for his weakness, asked Margaret to ac- company him. She was about to comply with his request, when Mrs. Hamilton came up the stairs, furious at her husband, whom she called " a craven coward, led by the nose by all who chose to lead him." Wishing to shut out her noise, Mag closed and bolted the door, and in the hall the modern Xantippe expended her wrath against her husband anl his offspring, while poor Mr. Hamilton laid his fact in Carrie's lap and wept. Margaret was try- DOAIESTIC LIFE AT TUE HOMESTEAD. 69 ing to devise some means by which to rid herself of hei Mc'p-inotlier, when Lenora was heard to exclaim, "shall I pitch her over the stairs, Mag? I wftl if you say so." Immediately Mrs. Hamilton's anger took another chan- nel, and turning upon her daughter, she said, " What are you here for, you prating parrot ! Didn't you tell me what Aunt Polly said, and haven't you acted in the ca- pacity of reporter ever since ? " "To be sure I did," said Lenora, poising herself on one foot, and whirling around in circles; "but if you thought I did it because I blamed Aunt Polly, you are mistaken." " What did you do it for, then ? " said Mrs. Hamilton ; and Lenora, giving the finishing touch to her circles by dropping upon the floor, answered, " I like to live in a hurricane so I told you what I did. Now, if you think it will add at all to the excitement of the present occasion, I'll get an ax for you to split the door down." " Oh, don't, Lenora," screamed Carrie, from within, to which Lenora responded, " Poor little simple chick bird, I wouldn't harm a hair of your soft head for anything. But there is a man in there, or one who passes for a man, that I think would look far more respectable if he'd come out and face the tornado. She's easy to manage when you know how. At least, Mag and I find her so." Here Mr. Hamilton, ashamed of himself and emboldened, perhaps, by Lenora's words, slipped back the bolt of the door, and walking out, confronted his wife. " Shall I order pistols and coffee for two ? " asked Le- nora, swinging herself entirely over the bannister, and dropping like a squirrel on the stair below. " Is Polly going to stay in this house ? " asked Mra Hamilton. * " She is," was the reply. " Then I leave to-night," said Mrs. Hamilton. 70 THE HOMESTEAD ON THE HILLSIDE. "Very well, you can go," returned the husband, grow jig stronger in himself each moment. Mrs. Hamilton turned away to her own room, where Bhe remained until supper time, when Lenora asked " if she had got her chest packed, and where they should direct their letters ! " Neither Margaret nor her father could refrain from laughter. Mrs. Hamilton, too, who had no notion of leaving the comfortable homestead, and who thought this as good a time to veer round as any she would have, also joined in the laugh, saying, " What a child you are, Lenora ! " Gradually the state of affairs at the homestead was noised throughout the village, and numerous were the lit- tle tea parties where none dared speak above a whisper, to tell what they had heard, and where each and every one were bound to the most profound secrecy, for fear the reports might not be true. At length, however, the story of the china closet got out, causing Sally Martin to spend one whole day in retailing the gossip from door to door. Many, too, suddenly remembered certain suspi- cious things which they had seen in Mrs. Hamilton, who was unanimously voted to be a bad woman, and who, of course, began to be slighted. The result of this was, to increase the sourness of her disposition ; and life at the homestead would have been one continuous scene of turmoil, had not Margaret wisely concluded to treat whatever her step-mother did with si- lent contempt. Lenora, too, always seemed ready to fill up all vacant niches, until even Mag acknowledged that the mother would be unendurable without the daughter. LENOBA AND CARRIE. 71 CHAPTER IX. LENORA AND CARRIE. EVER since the day on which Lenora had startled Car- rie by informing her of her danger, she had been carefully kept from the room, or allowed only to enter it when Margaret was present. One afternoon, however, early in February, Mag had occasion to go to the village. Le- nora, who saw her depart, hastily gathered up her work, and repaired to Carrie's room, saying, as she entered it, " Now, Carrie, we'll have a good time ; Mag has gone to see old deaf Peggy, who asks a thousand questions, and will keep her at least two hours, and I am going to enter- tain you to the best of my ability." Carrie's cheek flushed, for she felt some misgivings with regard to the nature of Lenora's entertainment ; but she knew there was no help for it, so she tried to smile, and said, " I am willing you should stay, Lenora, but you mustn't talk bad things to me, for I can't bear it." "Bad things!" repeated Lenora, "Who ever heard me talk bad things ? What do you mean ? " " I mean," said Carrie, " that you must not talk about your mother, as you sometimes do. It is wicked." " Why, you dear little thing," answered Lenora, " don't you know that what would be wicked for you, isn't wicked for me ? " "No, I do not know so," answered Carrie; "but I know I wouldn't talk about my mother as you do about yours, for anything." " Bless your heart," said Lenora, " have n't you sense enough to see that there is a great difference between Mrs. Hamilton 1st, and Mrs. Hamilton 2d? Now, I'm ?2 THE HOMESTEAD ON THE HILLSIDE. not naturally bad, and if I had been the daughter cf Mrs. Hamilton 1st, instead of Widow Carter's young-one, why, I should have been as good as you; no, not as good aa you, for you don't know enough to be bad, but as good as Mag, who, in my opinion, has the right kind of good- ness, for all I used to hate her so." " Hate Margaret ! " said Carrie, opening her eyes to their utmost extent. "What did you hate Margaret for ? " Because I didn't know her, I suppose," returned Le- nora ; " for now I like her well enough not quite as well as I do you, perhaps ; and yet, when I see you bear mother's abuse so meekly, I positively hate you for a min- ute, and ache to box your ears ; but when Mag squares up to her, shuts her in the china closet, and all that, I want to put my arms right round her neck." " Why, don't you like your mother ? " asked Carrie ; and Lenora replied : " Of course I do ; but I know what she is, and I know she is n't what she sometimes seems. Why, she'd be anything to suit the circumstances. She wanted your father, and she assumed the character most likely to secure him ; for, between you and me, he is n't very smart." " What did she marry him for, then ? " asked Carrie. " Marry him ! I hope you don't for a moment suppose she married him, ! " " Why, Lenora, ain't they married? I thought they were. Oh, dreadful ! " and Carrie started to her feet, while the perspiration stood thickly on her forehead. Lenora screamed with delight, saying, " You certainly have the softest brain I ever saw. Of course the minister went through with the ceremony ; but it was not your father that mother wanted ; it was his house his money his horses his servants, and his name. Now, may be, LENOEA AND CAREIE. 78 In your simplicity, you have thought that mother came here out of kindness to the motherless children ; but I tell you, she would be better satisfied if neither of you had ever been born. I suppose it is wicked in me to say BO, but I think she makes me worse than I would other- wise be ; for I am not naturally so bad, and I like people much better than I pretend to. Any way, I like you, and love little Willie, and always have, since the first time I saw him. Your mother lay in her coffin, and Willie stood by her, caressing her cold cheek, and saying, " Wake up, mamma, it's Willie ; don't you know Willie ? " I took him in my arms, and vowed to love and shield him from the coming evil ; for I knew then, as well as I do now, that what has happened would happen. Mag wasn't there; she didn't see me. If he had, she might have liked me better; now she thinks there is no good in me; and if, when you die, I should feel like shedding tears, and perhaps I shall, it would be just like her to wonder ' what business / had to cry it was none of my funeral ! ' " "You do wrong to talk so, Lenora," said Carrie* " but tell me, did you never have any one to love except Willie ? " Yes," said Lengra ; " when I was a child, a little, in nocent child, I had a grandmother my father's mother who taught me to pray, and told me of God." " Where is she now ? " asked Carrie. " In heaven," was the answer. " I know she is there, because when she died, there was the same look on her face that there was on your mother's the same that there will be on yours, when you are dead. " " Never mind," gasped ^Carrie, who did not care to be EO frequently reminded 1 of her mortality, while Lenora continued : " Perhaps you don't know that ay father was, D 74 THE 2OMESTEAD 03T THE HILLSIDE. as mother saya, a bad man ; though I always loved him dearly, and cried when he went away. We lived with grandmother, and sometimes now, in my dreams, I am a child again, kneeling by grandma's side, in our dear old eastern home, where the sunshine fell so warmly, where the summer birds sang in the old maple trees, and where the long shadows, which I called spirits, came and went over the bright green meadows. But there was a sadder day ; a narrow coffin, a black hearse, and a tolling bell, which always wakes me from my sleep, and I find the dream all gone, and nothing left of the little child but the wicked Lenora Carter." Here the dark girl buried her face in her hands and wept, while Carrie gently smoothed her tangled curls. After a while, as if ashamed of her emotion, Lenora dried her tears, and Carrie said, " Tell me more of your early life. I like you when you act as you do now." " There is nothing more to tell but wickedness," an- swered Lenora. " Grandma died, and I had no one to teach me what was right. About a year after her death, mother wanted to get a divorce from father; and one day she told me that a lawyer was coming to inquire about my father's treatment of her. ' Perhaps,' said she, 'he will ask if you ever saw him strike me, and you must say that you have, a great many times.' ' But I never did,' said I ; and then she insisted upon my telling that falsehood, and I refused, until she whipped me, and made me promise to say whatever she wished me to. In this way I was trained to be what I am. Nobody loves me ; nobody ever can love me; and sometimes when Mag speaks so kindly to you, and looks so affectionately upon you, I think, what would I not give for some one to love me ; and then I go away to cry, and wish I had neve/ Wen born." H ORA AND CARRIE. 75 Here Mrs. Hamilton called to her daughter, and, gath- ering up .her work, Lenora left the room just as Margaret entered it, on her return from the village. CHAPTER X. DARKNESS. As the spring opened and the days grew warmer, Car- rie's health seemed much improved ; and, though she did not leave her room, she was able to sit up nearly all day, busying herself with some light work. Ever hopeful, Margaret hugged to her bosom the delusion which Arhis- pered, " she will not die," while even the physician was deceived, and spoke encouragingly of her recovery. For several months Margaret had thought of visiting her grandmother, who lived in Albany ; and as Mr. Ham- ilton had occasion to visit that city, Carrie urged her to accompany him, saying she was perfectly able to be left alone, and she wished her sister would go, for the trip would do her good. For some time past, Mrs. Hamilton had seemed ex- ceedingly amiable and affectionate, although her husband appeared greatly depressed, and acted, as Lenora said, "just as though he had been stealing sheep." " This depression Mag had tried in vain to fathom, and at la DARKNESS. 83 mured, " Willie, darling Willie> our mother is waiting for us both." Mrs. Hamilton, who stood near, now bent down, and laying her hand on the pale, damp brow, said gently, "Carrie, dear, have you no word of love for this mother ? " There was a visible shudder, an attempt to speak, a low moan, in which the word " Walter " seemed struggling to be spoken ; and then death, as if impatient of delay, bore aw:iy the spirit, leaving only the form which hi Ufa had been most beautiful. Softly Lenora closed over the blue eyes the long, fringed lids, and pushed back from the forehead the sunny tresses which clustered so thickly around it ; then, kissing the white lips and leaving on the face of the dead traces of her tears, she lead Willie from the room, soothing him in her arms until he fell asleep. Elsewhere we have said that for a few days Willie had not seemed well ; but so absorbed were all in Carrie's more alarming symptoms, that no one had heeded him, although his cheeks were flushed with fever, and his head was throbbing with pain. He was in the habit of sleeping in his parents' room, and that night his loud breathings and uneasy turnings disturbed and annoyed his mother, who at last called out in harsh tones, " Willie, Willie, for mercy's sake stop that horrid noise ! I shall never get sleep this way. I know there's no need of breathing like hat ! " "It chokes me so," sobbed little Willie, "but I'll try." Then pressing his hands tightly over his mouth, he .tried the experiment of holding his breath as long as possible. Hearing no sound from his mother, he thought IK' i- asleep, but not venturing to breathe naturally until (1 of the fact, he whispered, "Ma, ma, are yoi asleep?" 84 THE HOMESTEAD ON THE HTLLSmE. " Asleep ! no, and never shall be, as I see ! What do you want ? " " Oh, I want to breathe," said Willie. " Well, breathe then ; who hinders you ? " was the re- ply ; and ere the offensive sound again greeted her ear, Mrs. Hamilton was too far gone in slumber to be disturbed. For two hours Willie lay awake, tossing from side to side, scorched with fever and longing for water to quench his burning thirst. By this time Mrs. Hamilton was again awake ; but to his earnest entreaties for water "just one little drop of water, ma," she answered, " William Hamilton, if you don't be still, I'll move your crib into the room where Carrie is, and leave you there alone ! " Unlike many children, Willie had no fears of the cold, white figure which lay so still and motionless upon the parlor sofa. To him it was Carrie, his sister ; and many times that day, had he stolen in alone, and laying back the thin muslin which shaded her face, he had looked long upon her; had laid his hand on her icy cheek, wondering if she knew how cold she was, and if the way which she had gone was so long and dark that he could never find it. To him there was naught to fear in that room of death, and to his mother's threat he answered, eagerly, " Oh, ma, give me some water, just a little bit of water, and you may carry me in there. I ain't afraid, and my breathing wont wake Carrie up ; " but before he had finished speaking, his mother was again dozing. "Won't anybody bring me some water, Maggie, Carrie, Leno, nobody ? " murmured poor Willie, aa he wet his pillow with tears. At last he could bear it no longer. He knew where the water-buck c-t stood, and stepping from his Led, ha groped his way down the long stairs to the basement DARKNESS. 85 The spring moon was low in the western horizon, and pi lining through the curtained window, dimly lighted u i> the room. Tlfe pail was soon reached, and then in his eagerness to drink, he put his lips to the side. Lower, lower, lower it came, until he discovered, alas 1 that the pail was empty. " What shall I do? what shall I do?" said he, as he crouched upon the cold hearth-stone. A new idea entered his mind. The well stood near the outer door ; and, quickly pushing back the bolt, he went out, all Hushed and feverish as he was, into the chill night air. There was ice upon the curb-stone, but he did not mind it, although his little toes, as they trod upon it, looked red by the pale moonlight. Quickly a cup of th( coveted water was drained; then, with careful forethought, he filled it again, and taking it back to his room, crept shivering to bed. Nature was exhausted ; and whether he fainted or fell asleep is not known, for never again to consciousness in this world awoke the little boy. The morning sunlight came softly in at the window, touching his golden curls with a still more golden hue. Sadly over him Lenora bent, saying, "Willie, Willie I wake up, Willie. Don't you know me ? " Greatly Mrs. Hamilton marveled whence came the cup of water which stood there, as if reproaching her for her cruelty. But the delirious words of the dreamer soon told her all. "Maggie, Maggie," he said, "rub my feet; they feel like Carrie's face. The curb-stone was cold, but the water was so good. Give me more, more ; mother won't care, for I got it myself, and tried not to breathe, so she could sleep; and Carrie, too, is dead dead." Lenora fiercely grasped her mother's arm, and said, 88 THE HOMESTEAD ON THE HILLSIDE. " How could you refuse him water, and sleep while he got it himself? But Mrs. Hamilton needed not that her daughter should accuse her. Willie had been her favorite, and the tears which she dropped upon his pillow were genuine. The physician who was called, pronounced his disease to be scarlet fever, saying that its violence was greatly in- creased by a severe cold which he had taken. "You have killed him, mother; you have killed him!" said Lenora. Twenty-four hours had passed since, with straining ear, Carrie had listened for the morning tram, and again down the valley floated the smoke of the engine, and over the blue hills echoed the loud scream of the locomo- tive ; but no sound could awaken the fair young sleeper, though Willie started, and throwing up his hands, one of which, the right one, was firmly clenched, murmured, "Maggie, Maggie." Ten minutes more, and Margaret was there, weeping in agony over the inanimate form of her sister, and al- most shrieking as she saw Willie's wild eye, and heard his incoherent words. Terrible to Mr. Hamilton was this coming home. Like one who walks in sleep, he went from room to room, kissing the burning brow of one child, and then, while the hot breath was yet warm upon his lips, pressing them to the cold face of the other. All day Margaret sat by her dying brother, praying that he might be spared until Walter came. Her prayer was answered ; for at nightfall Walter was with them. Half an hour after his return, Willie died ; but ere his right hand dropped lifeless by his side, he held it up to view, saying, " Father, give it to nobody but father." After a moment, Margaret, taking within hers the fast DARKNESS. 87 stiffening hand, gently unclosed the fingers, and found the crumpled piece of paper on which Carrie had written to her father. CHAPTER XI. MARGARET AND HER FATHER. *T WAS midnight midnight after the burial. In the library of the old homestead sat its owner, his arms rest- ing upon the table, and his face reclining upon his arms. Sadly was he reviewing the dreary past, since first among them death had been, bearing away his wife, the wife of his first, only love. Now, by her grave there was an other, on which the pale moonbeams and the chill night- dews were falling, but they could not disturb the rest of the two, who, side by side, in the same coffin lay sleeping, and for whom the father's tears were falling fast, and the father's heart was bleeding. " Desolate, desolate all is desolate," said the stricken man. "Would that I, too, were asleep with my lost ones ! " There was a rustling sound near him, a footfall, and an arm was thrown lovingly around his neck. Margaret's tears were on his cheek, and Margaret's voice whispered hi his ear, " Dear father, we must love each other better, now." Margaret had not retired, and on passing through the hall, had discovered the light gleaming through the crevice of the library door. Knowing that her father must be there, she had come in to comfort him. Long the tiither and child wept together, and then Margaret, 88 THE HOMESTEAD ON THE HILLSIDE. drying her tears, said, "It is right all right; mother has two, and you have two ; and though the dead will never return to us, we, in God's good time, will return to them ? " " Yes, soon, very soon, shall I go," said Mr. Hamilton. " I am weary, weary, Margaret ; my life is one scene of bitterness. Oh, why, why was I left to do it ? " Margaret knew well to what he referred, but she made no answer; and after he had become somewhat composed, thinking this a good opportunity for broaching the sub- ject which had so troubled Carrie's dying moments, she drew from her bosom the soiled piece of paper, and pla- cing it in his hands, watched him while he read. The moan of anguish which came from his lips as he finished, made her repent oi her act, and, springing to his side, she exclaimed, "Forgive me, father; I ought not to have done it now. You have enough to bear." " It is right, my child," said Mr. Hamilton ; " for after the wound had slightly healed, I might have wavered. Not that I love Walter less; but, fool that I am, I fear her who has made me the cowardly wretch you see ! " " Rouse yourself, then," answered Margaret. " Shake off her chain, and be free." " I cannot, I cannot," said he. " But this I will do. I will make another will. I always intended to do so, and Walter shall not be wronged." Then rising, he hurriedly paced the room, saying, " Walter shall not be wronged ; no, no Walter shall not be wronged." After a tune he resumed his former seat, and taking his daughter's hand in his, he told her of all he had suifered, of the power which his wife held over him, and which he was too weak to shake off. This last he did not say, but Margaret knew it, and it prevented her from giving him MARGARET AffD HER FATHER. 89 other consolation than that of assuring him of her own unchanged, undying love. The morning twilight was streaming through the closed hutters ere the conference ended ; and then Mr. Hamil- ton, kissing his daughter, dismissed her from the room but as she was leaving him, he called her back, saying, " Don't tell Walter ; he would despise me ; but he shan't be wronged no, he shan't be wronged." Six weeks from that night, Margaret stood, with her brother, watching her father as the light from his eyes went out, and the tones of his voice ceased forever. Grief for the loss of his children, and remorse for the blight which he had brought upon his household, had un- dermined his constitution, never strong ; and when a pre- vailing fever settled upon him, it found an easy prey. In ten days' time, Margaret and Walter alone were left of the happy band, who, two years before, had gathered around the fireside of the old homestead. Loudly Mrs. Hamilton deplored her loss, shutting her- self up in her room, and refusing to see any one, saying that she could not be comforted, and it was of no use try- ing ! Lenora, however, managed to find an opportunity of whispering to her that it would hardly be advisable to commit suicide, since she had got the homestead left, and everything else for which she had married Mr. Ham- ilton. "Lenora, how can you thus trifle with my feelings? " Don't you see that my trouble is killing me ? " said the greatly distressed lady. " I don't apprehend any such catastrophe as that," an- swered Lenora. "You found the weeds of Widow Car- ter easy enough to wear, and those of Widow Hamilton won't hurt you any worse, I imagine." "Lenora," groaned Mrs. Hamilton, "may you never 90 THE HOMESTEAD ON THE HILLSIDE. know what it is to be the unhappy mother of such a child ! " Amen ! " was Lenora's fervent response, as she glided from the room. For three days the body of Mr. Hamilton lay upon the marble center-table in the darkened parlor. Up and down the long stair-cases, and through the silent rooms, the servants moved noiselessly. Down in the basement Aunt Polly forgot her wonted skill in cooking, and in a broken rocking-chair swayed to and fro, brushing the big tears from her dusky face, and lamenting the loss of one who seemed to her "just like a brother, only a little nigher." In the chamber above, where, six weeks before, Carrie had died, sat Margaret, not weeping ; she could not do that; her grief was too great, and the fountain of her tears seemed scorched and dried ; but, with white, com- pressed lips, and hands tightly clasped, she thought of the past and of the cheerless future. Occasionally through the doorway there came a small, dark figure; a pair of slender arms were thrown around her neck, and a voice murmured hi her ear, " Poor, poor Maggie." The next moment the figure would be gone, and in the hall below Lenora would be heard singing snatches of some song, either to provoke her mother, or to make the astonished servants believe that she was really heartless and hard- ened. What Walter suffered could not be expressed. Hour after hour, from the sun's rising till its going down, he eat by his father's coffin, unmindful of the many who came in to look at the dead, and then gazing pitifully upon the face of the living, walked away, whispering mysteriously of insanity. Near him Lenora dared not come, though through the open door she watched him, and oftentimes he met the glance of her wild, black eyes, fixed upon him MARGARET AND HER FATHER. 91 with a mournful interest ; then, as if moved by some spirit of evil, she would turn away, and seeking her mother's room, would mock at that lady's grief, advising her not to make too much of an effort. At last there came a change. In the yard there wa* the sound of many feet, and in the house the hum of many voices, all low and subdued. Again hi the village of Glen- wood was heard the sound of the tolling bell ; again through the garden and over the running water brook moved the long procession to the grave-yard; and s<5on Ernest Hamilton lay quietly sleeping by the side of his wife and children. For some tune after the funeral, nothing was said con- cerning the will, and Margaret had almost forgotten the existence of one, when one day as she was passing the library door, her mother appeared, and asked her to enter. She did so, and found there her brother, whose face, be- sides the marks of recent sorrow which it wore, now seemed anxious and expectant. " Maggie, dear," said the oily-tongued woman, " I have sent for you to hear read your beloved father's last will and testament." A deep flush mounted to Margaret's face, as she re- peated, somewhat inquiringly, "Father's last will and trstament ? " " Yes, dear," answered her mother, " his last will and testament. He made it several weeks ago, even before poor Carrie died ; and as Walter is now the eldest and only son, I think it quite proper that he should read it." So saying, she passed toward Walter a sealed package, which he nervously opened, while Margaret, going to hig side, looked over his shoulder, as he read. It is impossible to describe the look of mingled sur prise, anger, and mortification which Mrs. Hamilton'? 92 THE HOMESTEAD ON THE HILLSIDE. face assumed, as she heard the will which her husband had made four weeks before his death, and in which Wal- ter shared equally with his sister. Her first impulse wag to destroy it ; and springing forward, she attempted to snatch it from Walter's hand, but was prevented by Mar- garet, who caught her arm and forcibly held her back. Angrily confronting her step-daughter, Mrs. Hamilton demanded, " What does this mean ? " to which Mag re- plied, " It means, madam, that for once you are foiled. You coaxed my father into making a will, the thought of which ought to make you blush. Carrie overheard you telling Lenora, and when she found that she must die, she wrote it on a piece of paper, and consigned it to Willie's care ! " * Several times Mrs. Hamilton essayed to speak, but the words died away in her throat, until, at last, summoning all her boldness, she said, in a hoarse whisper, " But the homestead is mine mine forever, and we'll see how de- lightful I can make your home ! " " I'll save you that trouble, madam," said Walter, ri- sing and advancing toward the door. " Neither my sis- ter nor myself will remain beneath the same roof which shelters you. To-morrow we leave, knowing well that vengeance belongeth to One higher than we." All the remainder of that day Walter and Margaret spent in devising some plan for the future, deciding at last that Margaret should, on the morrow, go for a time to Mrs. Kirby's, while Walter returned to the city. The next morning, however, Walter did not appear in the breakfast parlor, and when Margaret, alarmed at his ab- sence, repaired to his room, she found him unable to rise. The fever with which his father had died, and which was still prevailing in the village, had fastened upon him, and for many days was his life despaired of. The ablest phj MARGARET AKD HER FATHER. 03 aicians were called, but few of them gave any hope to the j'ulc, weeping sister, who, with untiring love, kept her vigils by her brother's bedside. When he was first taken ill, he had manifested great uneasiness at his step-mother's presence, and when at last he became delirious, he no longer concealed his feelings, and if she entered the room, he would shriek, "Take her away from me ! Take her away ! Chain her in the cel- lar ; anywhere out of my eight." Again he would speak of Kate, and entreat that she might come to him. " I have nothing left but her and Margaret," he would say ; "and why does she stay away ? " Three different times had Margaret sent to her young friend, urging her to come, and still she tarried, while Margaret marveled greatly at the delay. She did not know that the girl whom she had told to go, had received different directions from Mrs. Hamilton, and that each day beneath her mother's roof Kate Kirby' wept and prayed that Walter might not die. One night he seemed to be dying, and gathered in the room were many sympathizing friends and neighbors. Without, 'twas pitchy dark. The rain fell hi torrents, and the wind, which had increased in violence since the setting of the sun, howled mournfully about the windows, as if waiting to bear the soul company in its upward flight. Many times had Walter attempted to speak. At last he succeeded, and the word which fell from his lips, was " Kate ! " Lcnora, who had that day accidentally learned of her mother's commands with regard to Miss Kirby, now glided noiselessly from the room, and in a moment was alone in the fearful storm, which she did not heed. Lightly bounding over the swollen brook, she ran on \uitil the mill-pond cottage was reached. It was midnight, and its 94 THE HOMESTEAD ON THE HILLSIDE. inmates were asleep, but they awoke at the sound of Le nora's voice. " Walter is dying," said she to Kate, " and would see you once more. Come quickly." Hastily dressing herself, Kate went forth with the strange girl, who spoke not a word until Walter's room was reached. Feebly the sick man wound his arms around Kate's neck, exclaiming, " My own, my beautiful Kate, I knew you would come. I am better now, I shall live ! " and as if there was indeed something life-giving in her very presence and the sound of her voice, Walter from that hour grew better ; and in three week's time he, to- gether with Margaret, left his cliildhood's home, once so dear, but now darkened by the presence of her who watched their departure with joy, exulting in the thought that she was mistress of all she surveyed. Walter, who was studying law in the city about twenty miles distant, resolved to return thither immediately, and after some consultation with his sister it was determined that both she and Kate should accompany him. Accord- ingly, a few mornings after they left the homestead, there was a quiet bridal at the mill-pond cottage ; after which, Walter Hamilton bore away to his city home his sister and his bride, the beautiful Kate. CHAPTER XH. "CARRYING OUT DEAR MR. HAMILTON'S PLANS." ONE morning about ten days after the departure of Walter, the good people of Glenwood were greatly sur- prised at the unusual confusion which seemed to pervade " CARBYING OUT DEAR MK. HAMILTON'S PLANS." 95 the homestead. The blinds were taken off, windows taken out, carpets taken up, and where so lately physicians, clergymen and death had officiated, were now seen car- penters, masons and other workmen. Many were the surmises as to the cause of all this ; and one old lady, more curious than the rest, determined upon a friendly call, to ascertain, if possible, what was going on. She found Mrs. Hamilton with her sleeves rolled up and her hair tucked under a black cap, consulting with s carpenter about enlarging her bedroom and adding to it a bathing room. Being received but coldly by the mis- press of the house, she descended to the basement, where she was told by Aunt Polly that " the blinds were going to be repainted, an addition built, the house turned wrong side out, and Cain raised generally." " It's a burning shame," said Aunt Polly, warmed up by her subject and the hot oven into which she was thrust- ing loaves of bread and pies. " It's a burning shame, a tcarin' down and a goin' on this way, and marster not cold in his grave. Miss Lenora, with all her badness, says it's disgraceful, but he might ha' know'd it. I did. *I know'd it the fust time she came here a nussin'. I don't sec- what i^ot into him to have her. Polly Pepper, with- out any larnin', never would ha' done such a thing," con- tinued she, as the door closed upon her visitor, who was anxious to carry the gossip back to the village. It was even as Aunt Polly had said. Mrs. Hamilton, who possessed a strong propensity for pulling down and build- ing up, and who would have made an excellent carpenter, had long had an earnest desire for improving the home- stead ; and now that there was no one to prevent her, she went to work with a right good will, saying to Lenora, who remonstrated with her upon the impropriety of her conduct, that " she was merely carrying out dear Mr 06 THE HOMESTEAD ON THE HILLSIDE. Hamilton's plans," who had proposed making these chan ges before his death. , " Dear Mr. Hamilton ! " repeated Leriora, " very dear has he become to you, all at once. I think if you had al- ways manifested a little more affection for him and his, they might not have been where they now are." " Seems to me you take a different text from what you did some months ago," said Mrs. Hamilton ; " but per- haps you don't remember the time ? " " I remember it well," answered Lenora, " and quite likely, with your training, I should do the same again. We were poor, and I wished for a more elegant home. I fancied that Margaret Hamilton was proud and had slight- ed me, and I longed for revenge ; but when I knew her, I liked her better, and when I saw that she was not to be trampled down by you or me, my hatred of her turned to admiration. The silly man, who has paid the penalty of his weakness, I always despised ; but when I saw how fast the gray hairs thickened on his head, and how care-worn and bowed down he grew, I pitied him, for I knew that his heart was breaking. Willie I truly, unselfishly loved ; and I am charitable enough to think that even you loved him, but it was through your neglect that he died, and for his death you will answer. Carrie was gentle and trusting, but weak, like her father. I do not think you killed her, for she was dying when we came here, but you put the crowning act of wickedness to your life, when you compelled a man, shattered in body and intellect, to write a will which disinherited his only son ; but on that point you are baffled. To be sure, you've got the homestead, and for decency's sake I think I'd wait awhile longer, ere I commenced tearing down and building up." Lenora's words had no effect, whatever, upon her mother, still kept on with her plans, treating with silent con- " CARRYING OUT DKAIl ME. HAMILTON'S PLANS." 9V tempt the remarks of the neighbors, or wishing, perhaps, that they would attend to their own business, just as she \va.s attending to hers ! Day after day the work went on. Scaffoldings were raised paper and plastering torn oft' boards were seasoning in the sun shingles lying upon the ground ladders raised against the wall ; and all this while the two new graves showed not a single blade of grass, and the earth upon them looked black and fresh as it did when first it was placed there. When, at last, the Minds were hung, the house cleaned, and the carpets nailed down, Mrs. Hamilton, who had de- signed doing it all the time, called together the servants, whom she had always disliked on account of their prefer- ence for Margaret, and told them to look for new places, as their services were no longer needed there. " You can make out your bills," said she, at the same time intimating that they hadn't one of them more than earned their board, if indeed they had that ! Polly Pep- per wasn't of a material to stand coolly by and hear such language from one whom she considered far beneath her. " Hadn't she as good a right there as anybody ? Yes, in- deed, she had ! Wasn't she there a full thirty year before any of your low-lived trash came round a nussin ? " " Polly," interposed Mrs. Hamilton, " leave the room, instantly, you ungrateful thing' ! " " Ungrateful for what ? " returned old Polly. " Have n't I worked and slaved like an old nigger, as I am ? and now you call me ungrateful, and say I hain't half arnt my bread. I'll sue you for slander, yes I will ;" and the enraged Polly lelt the room, muttering to herself, "half arnt my board! Indeed ! I'll bet I've made a hundred thousan' pies, to say nothin' of the puddings. I not arn my board ! " When once again safe in what for so many years had been her own peculiar province, she sat down to meditate, E 7 98 THM HOMESTEAD ON THE mLLSIDZ. " I'd as good go without any fuss," thought she, " but my curse on the madam who sends me away ! " In the midst of her reyerie, Lenora entered the kitchen, and to her the old lady detailed her grievances, ending with, "'Pears like she don't know nothin' at ah 1 about etiquette, nor nothin' else." " Etiquette ! " repeated Lenora. " You are mistaken, Polly ; mother would sit on a point of etiquette till she wore the back breadth of her dress out. But it isn't that which she lacks it's decency. But, Polly," said she, changing the subject, " where do you intend to go, and how?" " To my brother Sam's," said Polly. " He lives three miles in the country, and I've sent Robin to the village foi a horse and wagon to carry my things." Here Mrs. Hamilton entered the kitchen, followed by a strapping Irish girl, nearly six feet in height. Her hair, flaming red, was twisted round a huge back comb ; her faded calico dress came far above her ancles ; her brawny arms were folded one over the other ; and there was in her appearance something altogether disagreeable and de- fiant. Mrs. Hamilton introduced her as Ruth, her new cook, saying she hoped she would know enough to keep her place better than her predecessor had done. Aunt Polly surveyed her rival from head to foot, and then glancing aside to Lenora, muttered, " Low-lived, de- pend on't." Robin now drove up with the wagon, and Mrs. Ham- ilton and Lenora left the room, while Polly went to pre- pare herself for her ride. Her sleeping apartment was in the basement and communicated with the kitchen. This wa observed by the new cook, who had a strong dislike of negroes, and who feared that she might be expected to occupy the same bed. "CABEYING OUT Dk.VK MR. HAMILTON'S PLANS." 99 " An' faith," said she, "is it where the like of ye have Durrowed that I am to turn in ? " " I don't understand no such'low-flung stuff," answered P >!ly, " but if you mean are you to have this bedroom, I suppose you are." Here Polly had occasion to go up stairs for something, and on her return, she found that Ruth, during her ab- sence, had set fire to a large linen rag, which she held on a shovel and was carrying about the bedroom, as if to purify it from every atom of negro atmosphere which might remain. Polly was quick-wittted, and instantly comprehending the truth, she struck the shovel from the hand- of Ruth, exclaiming, "You spalpeen, is it because my skin ain't a dingy yaller and all freckled like yourn ? Lo*rd, look at your carrot-topped cocoanut, and then tell inc if wool ain't a heap the most genteel." In a moment a portion of the boasted wool was lying on the floor, or being shaken from the thick, red fingers of the cook, while Irish blood was flowing freely from the nose, which Polly, in her vengeful wrath, had wrung. Further hostilities were prevented by Robin, who screamed that he couldn't wait any longer, and shaking her fist fiercely at the red-head, Polly departed. That day Lucy and Rachel also left, and their places were supplied by two raw hands, one of whom, before the close of the second day, tumbled up stairs with the large soup tureen, breaking it in fragments and scaldingthe foot of Mrs. Hamilton, who was in the rear, and who, having waited an hour for dinner, had descended to the kite-lien to know why it was not forthcoming, saying that I '-illy hud never been so behind the time. The other one, on being asked if she understood cham- ber work, had replied, " Indade, and it's been my busi- ness all my life." She was accordingly sent to make the 100 THE HOMESTEAD ON THE HILLSIDE. beds and empty the slop. Thinking it an easy way to di pose of the latter, she had thrown it from the window, deluging the head and shoulders of her mistress, who was bending down to examine a rose-bush which had been re- cently set out. Lenora was in ecstasies, and when at noon her mother received a sprinkling of red-hot soup, she gravely asked her " which she relished most, cold or warm baths ! CHAPTER KETBIBUTION. Two years have passsed away, and again we open the scene at the homestead, wh?.ch had not proved an alto- gether pleasant home to Mrs. Hamilton. There was around her everything to make her happy, but she was far from being so. One by one her servants, with whom she was very unpopular, had left her, until there now re- mained but one. The villagers, too, shunned her, and she was wholly dependent for society upon Lenora, who, as usual, provoked and tormented her. One day, Hester, the servant, came up from the base- ment, saying there was a poor old man below, who asked for money. "Send him away; I've nothing for him," said Mrs. Hamilton, whose avaricious hand, larger far than her heart, grasped at and retained everything. " But, if you please, ma'am, he seems very poor," said Hester. " Let hun go to work, then. 'Twon't hurt him more than t will me," was the reply. RETRIBUTION. 101 Lenora, whose eyes and ears were always open, no looner heard that there was a beggar in the kitchen, than she 'ran down to see him. He was a miserable looking object, and still there was something in his appearance which denoted him to be above the common order of beg- gars. His eyes were large and intensely black, and his hair, short, thick, and curly, reminded Lenora of her own The moment she appeared, a peculiar expression passed for a moment over his face, and he half started up ; then resuming his seat, he fixed his glittering eyes upon the young lady, and seemed watching her closely. At last she began questioning him, but his answers were so unsatisfactory that she gave it up, and, thinking it the easiest way to be rid of him, she took from her pocket a shilling and handed it to him, saying, " It's all I can give you, unless it is a dinner. Are you hungry ? " Hester, who had returned to the kitchen, was busy in a distant part of the room, and she did not notice the paleness which overspread Lenora's face, at the words which the beggar uttered, when she presented the money to him. She caught, however, the low murmur of their voices, as they spoke together for a moment, and as Le- nora accompanied him to the door, she distinctly heard the words, " In the garden." " And may be that's some of your kin ; you look like him," said she to Lenora, after the stranger was gone. " That's my business, not yours," answered Lenora, as she left the kitchen and repaired to her mother's room. "Lenora, what ails you? " said Mrs Hamilton to her daughter at the tea-table, that night, when, after putting jalt in one cup of tea, and upsetting a second, she com- menced spreading her biscuit with cheese instead of but- ter. " What ails you ? What are you thinking about ? J02 THE HOMESTEAD ON THE HILLSIDE. Ton don't seem to know any more what you are doing, than the dead." Lenora made no direct reply to this, but soon after she said, " Mother, how long has father been dead, my own father I mean ? " " Two or three years, I don't exactly know which," returned her mother, and Lenora continued : " How did he look ? I hardly remember him." " You have asked me that fifty times," answered her mother, " and fifty times I have told you that he looked like you, only worse, if possible." " Let me see, where did you say he died ? " said Lenora. " In New Orleans, with yellow fever, or black measles, or small pox, or something," Mrs. Hamilton replied; "but, mercy's sake ! can't you choose a better subject to talk about ? What made you think of him ? He's been haunt ing me all day, and I feel kind of nervous and want to look over my shoulder whenever I am alone." Lenora made no further remark until after tea, when she announced her intention of going to the village. " Come back early, for I don't feel like staying alone," said her mother. The sun had set when Lenora left the village, and by the time she reached home, it was wholly dark. As she entered the garden, the outline of a figure, sitting on a bench at its farther extremity, made her stop for a mo- ment, but thinking to herself, " I expected it, and why should I be afraid ? " she walked on fearlessly, until the person, roused by the sound of her footsteps, started up, and turning toward her, said, half aloud, " Lenora, is it you ? " Quickly she sprang forward, and soon one hand of the beggar was clasped hi hers, while the other rested upon RETRIBUTION. 10S her head, as he said, " Lenora, my child, my daughter, you do not hate me ? " "Hate you, father?" she answered, "never, never." "But," he continued, "has not she, my, no, not my wife, thank heaven not my wife now, but your mother, has not she taught you to despise and hate me ? " " No," answered Lenora, bitterly. " She has taught me enough of evil, but my memories of you were too sweet, too pleasant, for me to despise you, though I do not think you always did right, more than mother." The stranger groaned, and murmured, " It's true, all true ; " while Lenora continued : " But where have you been all these years, and how came we to hear of your death ? " " I have been in St. Louis most of the time, and the report of my death resulted from the fact that a man bear- ing my name, and who was also from Connecticut, died of yellow fe\er in New Orleans about two years and a half ago. A friend of mine, observing a notice of his death, and supposing it to refer to me, forwarded the pa- per to your mother, who, though then free from me, un- doubtedly felt glad, for she never loved me, but married me because she thought I had money." " But how have you lived ? " asked Lenora. " Lived ! " he repeated, " I have not lived. I have merely existed. Gambling and drinking, drinking and gambling, liave been the business of my life, and have re- duced me to the miserable wretch whom you see." " Oh, father, father," cried Lenora, " reform. It is not too late, and you can yet be saved. Do it for my sake, for, in spite of all your faults, I love you, and you are my father." The first words of affection which had greeted his ear for many long years made the wretched man weep, a* 104 THE HOMESTEAD ON THE HILLSIDE. ho answered, "Lenora, I have sworn to reform, and 1 will keep my vow. During one of my drunken revels in St. Louis, a dream of home came over me, and when I became sober, I started for Connecticut. There I heard where and Avhat your mother^ was. I had no wish ever to meet her again, for though I greatly erred in my con- duct toward her, I think she was always the most to blame. You I remembered with love, and I longed to see you once more, to hear again the word 'father,' and know that I was not forgotten. . I came as far as the city, and there fell into temptation. For the last two months I have been there, gambling and drinking, until I lost all, even the clothes which I wore, and was compelled to as- sume these rags. I am now without home or money, and have no place to lay my head." "I can give you money," said Lenora. "Meet me here to-morrow night, and you shall have all you want. But what do you purpose doing ? Where will you tstay ? " " In the village, for the sake of being near you," said he, at the same tune bidding his daughter return to the house, as the night air was damp and chilly. Within a week from that time, a middle-aged man, calling himself John Robinson, appeared in the village, hiring himself out as a porter at one of the hotels. There was a very striking resemblance between him and Lenora Carter, which was noticed by the villagers, and men- tioned to Mrs. Hamilton, who, however, could never obtain a full view of the stranger's face, for without any apparent design, he always avoided meeting her He had not been long in town, before it was whispered about that between him and Lenora Carter a strange intimacy existed, and rumors soon reached Mrs. Ham- Uton that her daughter was in the habit of frequently EETEIBUTION. 105 stealing out, after sunset, to meet the ola porter, and that once, \\hen watched, she had been seen to put her arms around his neck. Highly indignant, Mrs. Hamilton ques- tioned Lcnora on the subject, and was astonished beyond measure when she replied, "It is all true. I have met Mr. Robinson often, and I have put my arms around hia neck, and shall probably do it again." "Oh, my child, my child," groaned Mrs. Hamilton, really distressed at her daughter's conduct. " How can you do so ? You will bring my gray hairs with sorrow to the grave." ' Xot if you pull out as many of them as you now do, and use Twiggs' Preparation besides," said Lenora. . Hamilton did not answer, but covering her face with her hands, wept, really wept, thinking for the first time, perhaps, that as she had sowed so was she reaping. For some time past, her health had been failing, and as the summer days grew warmer and more oppressive, she felt a degree of lassitude and physical weakness which she had never before experienced; and one day unable longer to sit up, she took her bed, where she lay for many days. Now that her mother was really sick, Lenora seemed suddenly changed, and with unwearied care watched over her as kindly and faithfully as if no words, siive those of affection, had ever passed between them. Warmer aiid more sultry grew the days, and more fiercely raged the fever in Mrs. Hamilton's veins, until at last the crisis was reached and passed, and she was in a fair way for recov- ry, when she was attacked by chills, which again re- lun tarily shuddered as she recognized her step-mother, and guessed why she was there. Taking her in his arms, Mr El \\yn bore her back to the house, and Margaret, filling a pitcher with water, bathed her face, moistened her lips, and applied other restoratives, until she revived enough to say, " More water, Willie. Give me more water ! " Eagerly she drained the goblet which Margaret held to her lips, and was about drinking the second, when her eyes for the first time sought Margaret's face. With 9 cry between a groan and a scream, she lay back upon her pillows, saying, "Margaret Hamilton, how came you here? What have you to do with me, and why dp you give me water ? Didn't I refuse it to Willie, when he begged so earnestly for it in the night time ? But I J ve been paid a thousand tunes paid left by my own child to die alone ! " Margaret was about asking for Lcnora, when the young lady herself appeared. She seemed for a moment greatly surprised at the sight of Margaret, and then bounding to ner side, greeted her with much affection ; while Mrs. Hamilton jealously looked on r muttering to herself, "Loves everybody better than she does me, her own mother who has done so much for her." Lenora made no reply to this, although she manifested much concern when Margaret told her in what state they had found her mother. " I went for a few moments 1r visit a sick friend," said she, " I ut told Hester to stay with mother until I re- turned; and I wonder much that she should leave her." 110 THE HOMESTEAD ON THE HILLSIDE. " Lenora," said Mrs. Hamilton, " Lenora, was that sicls friend the old porter ? " Lenora answered in the affirmative ; and then her mother, turning to Margaret, said, "You don't know what a pest and torment this child has always been to me, and now when I am dying, she deserts me for a low- lived fellow, old enough to be her father." Lenora's eyes flashed scornfully upon her mother, but she made no answer, and as Mr. Elwyn was in haste to proceed on his journey, Margaret arose to go. Lenora urged them to remain longer, but they declined ; and as she accompanied them to the door, Margaret said, " Le- nora, if your mother should die, and it would afford you any satisfaction to have me come, I will do so, for I sup- pose you have no near friends." Lenora hesitated a moment, and then whispering to Margaret of the relationship existing between herself anc the old porter, she said, " He is sick and poor, but he is my own father, and I love him dearly." The tears came to Margaret's eyes, for she thought of her own father, called home while his brown hair was scarcely touched with the frosts of time. Wistfully Le- nora watched the carriage as it disappeared from sight, and then half reluctantly entered the sick-room, where, for the remainder of the afternoon, she endured her mother's reproaches for having left her alone, and where once, when her patience was wholly exhausted, she said, " It served you right, for now you know how little Willie felt." The next day Mrs. Hamilton was much worse, and Le- nora, who had watched and who understood her symp- toms, felt confident that she would die, and loudly her conscience upbraided her for her undutiful conduct. She longed, too, to tell her that her father was still living RETBIBTmON. Ill one evening, when, for an hour or two, her mother seemed better, she arose, and bending over her pillow, said, " Mother, did it ever occur to you that father might not be dead ? " " Not be dead, Lenora ! What do you mean ? " asked Mrs. Hamilton, starting up from her pillow. Cautiously then Lenora commenced her story by re- ferring her mother back to the old beggar, who some months before had been in the kitchen. Then she spoke of the old porter, and the resemblance which was said to exist between him and herself; and finally, as she saw her mother could bear it, she told the whole story of her fa- ther's life. Slowly the sick woman's eyes closed, and Le- nora saw that her eyelids were wet with tears, but as she made no reply, Lenora, ere long, whispered, ""Would you like to see him, mother ? " " No, no ; not now," was the answer. For a time there was silence, and then Lenora, again speak in GT, said, " Mother, I have often been very wicked and disrespectful to you, and if you should die, I should feel much happier knowing that you forgave me. Will you do it, mother, say ? " Mrs. Hamilton comprehended only the words, "if you should die," so she said, " Die, die ! who says that I must die? I shan't I can't; for what could I tell her about her children, and how could I live endless ages without water. I tried it once, and I can't do it. No, I can't. I won't ! " In this way she talked all night ; and though in the morning she was more rational, she turned away from the clergyman, who at Lenora'a request had been sent for, Baying, " It 's of no use, no use ; I know all you would say, but it 's too late, too late ! " Thus she continued for three days, and at the close of 112 THE HOMESTEAD ON THE HILLSIDE. the third, it became evident to all that she was dying, and Hester was immediately sent to the hotel, with a request that the old porter would come quickly. Half an hotir after, Lenora bent over her mother's pillow, and whispered in her ear, " Mother, can you hear me ? " A pressure of the hand was the reply, and Lenora continued : " You have not said that you forgave me, and now before you die, will you not tell me so ? " There was another pressure of the hand, and Lenora again spoke : " Mother, would you like to see him my father ? He is in the next room." This roused the dying woman, and starting up, she ex- claimed, " See John Carter ! No, child, no. He'd only curse me. Let him wait until I am dead, and then I shall not hear it." In ten minutes more, Lenora was sadly gazing upon the fixed, stony features of the dead* A gray-haired man was at her side, and his lip quivered, as he placed his hand upon the white, wrinkled brow of her who had once been hia wife. "She is fearfully changed," were his only words, as he turned away from the bed of death. True to her promise, Margaret came to attend her step- mother's funeral. Walter accompanied her, and shud- dered as he looked on the face of one who had so dark- ened his home, and embittered his life. Kate was not there, and when, after the burial, Lenora asked Margaret for her, she was told of a little " Carrie Lenora," who, with pardonable pride, Walter thought was the only baby of any consequence in the woi'ld. Margaret was going on with a glowing description of the babe's many beauties, when she was interrupted by Lenora who laid her face in her lap and burst into tears. " Why, Lenora, what is the matter ? " asked Margaret. As soon as Lenora became calm, she answered, " that EETEIBimON. 413 name, Maggie. You have given my name to Walter Hamilton's child, and if you had hated me, you would never have done it." "Hated you!" repeated Margaret, "we do not hate you ; now that we understand you, we like you very much, and one of Kate's last injunctions to Walter was, that he should again offer you a home with him." Once more Lenora was weeping. She had not shed a tear when they carried from sight her mother, but words of kindness touched her heart, and the fountain was opened. At last, drying her eyes, she said, "I prefer tc go with lather. Walter will, of course, come back to the homestead, while father and I shall return to our old home in Connecticut, where, by being kind to Mm, I hope to atone, in a measure, for my great unkindness to mother." CHAPTER XTV. FINALE. TunoFGn the open casement of a small, white cottage in the vilhge of P , the rays of the September moon are stealing, disclosing to view a gray-haired man, whose placid face still shows marks of long years of dissipation. Affectionately he caresses the black, curly head, which is res' ing on his knee, and softly he says, "Lenora, my daughter, there are, I trust, years of happiness in store fot us both." " I hope it may be so," was the answer, " but there 18' no promise of many days to any save those who honoi 114 THE HOMESTEAD ON THE HILLSIDE. T their father and mother. This last I have never done, though many, many times have I repented of it, and I begin to be assured that we may be happy yet." Away to the westward, over many miles of woodland, valley, and hill, the same September moon shines upon the white walls of the homestead, where sits the owner, Walter Hamilton, gazing first upon his wife, and then upon the tiny treasure which lies sleeping upon her lap. " We are very happy, Katy darling," he says, and the affection which looks from her large, blue eyes, as she lifts them to his face, is a sufficient answer. Margaret, too, is there, and though but an hour ago her tears were falling upon the grass grown graves, where slept her father and mother, the gentle Carrie and gol- den-haired Willie, they are all gone now, and she re. sponds to her brother's words, "Yes, Walter, we are very happy." In the basement below the candle is burned to its socket, and as the last ray flickers up, illuminating for a moment the room, and then leaving it in darkness, Aunt Polly Pepper starts from her evening nap, and as if con- tinuing her dream, mutters, " Yes, this is pleasant, and eomething like living." And so with the moonlight and starlight falling upon the old homestead, and the sunlight of love falling upon the hearts of its inmates, we bid them adieu. CHAPTER I. BICE CORNER. YES, Rice Corner 1 Do you think it a queer name ? Well, Rice Corner was a queer place, and deserved a queer name. Now whether it is celebrated for anything in particular, I really can't, at this moment, think, unless, indeed, it is famed for having been my birth-place I Whether this of itself is sufficient to immortalize a place, future generations may, perhaps, tell, but I have some mis- givings whether the present will. This^dea may be the result of my having recently received sunWy knocks over the knuckles in the shape of criticisms. But I know one thing, on the back of that old chest- nut tree which stands near Rice Corner school-house, .my name is cut higher than some of my more bulky cotem- porary quill or rather steel pen-wielders ever dared to climb. To be sure, I tore my dress, scratched my face, and committed numerous other little rompish miss-de- meanors, which procured for me a motherly scolding. That, however, was of minor consideration, when