University of California Berkeley MABEL YAUGHAN BY THE AUTHOR OF "THE LAMPLIGHTER.' BOSTON: PUBLISHED BY JOHN P. JEWETT AND COMPANY.. CLETELAND, OHIO: HENKY P. B. JEWETT. LONDON : SAMPSON LOW, SON & CO. 1857. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1857, by JOHN P. JEWETT AND COMPANY, In the Clerk's Office o f Mie District Court for the District of Massachusetts LITHOTYPED BY COWLES AND COMPANY, Office of American Stereotype Company, PHCENIX BUILDING, BOSTON. Priated by G. C. Rand & Ayery. MABEL VAUGHAN. CHAPTER I. Fear is the virtue of slaves; but the heart that loveth is willing; Perfect was, before God, and perfect is Love, and Love only. LONGFELLOW'S TEGXER. ON a pleasant midsummer's afternoon, a middle-aged lady, with a mild and thoughtful face, sat alone in her quiet parlor, busily engaged in sewing. It was a country home in which she dwelt, and her low window opened directly into a green and sloping orchard, now fragrant with new-mown hay, the sweet breath of which was borne in on every passing breeze. &he was a woman of many cares, and but little leisure, and for more than an hour had not lifted her eyes from her work, when, suddenly attracted by the merry voices of children, she arrested herself in the act of setting a stitch, and, with her needle still poised between finger and thumb, leaned her elbow on the window-sill and for several minutes gazed earnestly and attentively upon a little group collected beneath an opposite tree. They were too far off for their words to be distinguish- able, but happiness shone in their faces, mirth rang in their careless shout, and joy danced in all their motions. Whether chasing the light butterfly, pelting each other with tufts of hay, or, in the very exuberance of their spirits, scampering without purpose or rest in the sunshine, they were in every view pict- ures of infant glee, cheering and happy sights to a mother's heart. Though now and then smiling on their sport, however, the gentle-faced lady at the window was watching them with a M555075 6 MABEL VAUGHAN. more thoughtful and observant gaze than the occasion seemea to warrant, for she saw amid their play what a less careful eye might have failed to discern, and from it she drew a moral. Three among this little group, were her own children ; but while they shared her notice, and from time to time excited her sympathy in their innocent enjoyment, it was not by them that her thoughts were at this time peculiarly engrossed. There was among them a fourth, who, although not hers by the tie of nature, might almost be said to have become so by adoption, since she had now been three years under her roof, with the prospect of continuing there for an indefinite period ; and it was on this little girl, who stood to her in the relation of a pupil, that the teacher's thoughtful atiention was fixed. She was between eleven and twelve years of age, and the eldest of the little band; a bright, rosy-cheeked, animated child, of a lively, adventurous spirit, the invariable leader in every youthful pastime. But on the present occasion she seemed only partially to share in the sport, for after every outburst of glee in which she indulged, far outdoing her companions in extravagant merriment, and inciting them to new hilarity, she would hastily resume her seat at the foot of an old apple-tree, snatch a well-worn book from the grass where she had thrown it, and appear for a time wholly engrossed in study. Her fits of diligence, however, were but short lived. At the first temptation held out by her companions, she would again fling aside the volume, spring to her feet, and bound with them to the farthest corner of the orchard, from which excur- sion she would return, heated, weary, and out of breath. Now a mischievous urchin had stolen her bonnet, and dared her to its recovery ; and now a pet rabbit had just rushed past, and she must follow with the others in full pursuit. It was in vain that after each fresh interruption she applied herself anew to her lesson, and placing her fingers to her ears, strove to shut out the bewildering voices of her playmates. The effort, after all, was but a mock endeavor, for her heart was anywhere but in her book ; and, at length, an unseen hand having snatched the much abused grammar from her lap and thrown it over the MADEL VAUGHAN. 7 boundary wall, the unwilling student felt a sense of relief at its disappearance, and was the first to raise the shout of approval that succeeded. Just at this moment a bell sounded, and with a glance of surprise and alarm in the direction of the house, the girl has- tened to recover the book and proceed to her recitation, for which this was the signal. She came into the presence of her instructress with a flushed face, and, in place of her recent smiles, a half-mortified, half- vexed expression. The teacher took the book from her pupil's hand without comment, and commenced hearing the lesson, which, as mav well be pposed, proved a failure in the very onset. The child stood in silence for a few moments, and then said, while tears of impatience rushed into her eyes, " I can't leara th!s lesson, Mrs. Herbert, it is too hard." " You have not tried, Mabel," said Mrs. Herbert, mildiy. " Yes I have," answered Mabel : " I have tried just as hard as I could, and I can't learn it. I wish I need n't study Latin." " Were you studying, my dear, when you lay for ten minutes b.id in the hay, while the children tried in vain to find you, or tfhen you stood on the highest bough of a cherry-tree and trained your eyes with looking into a robin's nest ? " Mabel gave a quick glance out of the window from whence she had thus been observed, then looked up into the friendly face of Mrs. Herbert, and seeing there a smile, which invited confidence and disarmed her of timidity, exclaimed, with natural and childlike frankness, " How could I study any better, when they were all having such a good time ? " " Ah I that is the true secret of the matter," said Mrs. Her- bert, drawing Mabel towards her and wiping the moisture from the child's heated brow. " I have been watching you for this half hour,- and knew very well how it would be with the lesson. Do you remember what I told you about it this morning ? " " You said it was hard, the hardest thing in the book." " Not exactly, my dear ; I told you, to be sure, that it was more difficult than any task you had yet attempted ; but, at the 8 MABEL VAUGHAN. same time, I assured you that with a little patience you could quickly learn it, and that this verb once mastered, all the rest would seem comparatively easy. I did not promise, however, that you would find the orchard a good place to study in, or that the noise of the children would help you to fix your thoughts on your book. You should have gone to your own room, shut the door, and made up your mind to apply yourself diligently for an hour at least. Will you do so now ? " Mabel hesitated, gave a longing look at her recent play- ground, and then cast down her eyes, which were fast filling with tears. After waiting in vain for a reply, Mrs. Herbert passed her arm round the waist of her pupil, fixed her mild eyes upon her face with a look which enforced attention, and gently but forci- bly made use of such arguments as were most likely to excite her ambition and prompt her to the necessary effort. The girl was possessed of excellent capacity, but had not yet formed habits of application, and needed powerful motives to stimulate ner to exertion. These Mrs. Herbert was able to supply, and soon had the satisfaction of witnessing the effect produced by her words, for Mabel gradually withdrew from her side, straight- ened her figure with a determined air, and exclaimed, with energy, " I suppose I can learn it, and I will" "And remember," said' Mrs. Herbert, as she bestowed a glance of affectionate interest and approval upon her hastily retreating pupil, " remember for your encouragement what I told you yesterday, that the more perfectly you learn this one lesson, the easier will every future task become." It was the, verb amare to love of the first regular con- jugation, and a formidable task did it appear in Mabel's eyes. She was, however, possessed of an excellent memory, and every requisite for successful study, and bringing, as she now did, her whole heart to the labor, she was able in less than the allotted time, to overcome all its difficulties. Before the hour had expired,, she presented herself once more, grammar in hand, and her face bright with smiles, to beg that Mrs. Herbert would hear her recite, assuring her MABEL VAUGHAN. 9 that she knew every word perfectly, and had twice repeated the synopsis to herself without looking on the book. It was true, and the young student went triumphantly through the lesson. " And see," exclaimed she, as, after receiving the praise her efforts had merited, she took the grammar from her teacher's hand, " it is just as you said. I have been looking at the verb that comes next, and it is so much like this that it will not be hard at all," and Mabel eagerly pointed out the tokens of simi- larity. Mrs. Herbert, smiling at the little girl's earnestness, sug- gested still further marks of resemblance, congratulated Mabel upon the advantage she had gained, and then, laying her hand upon the child's shoulder, said, impressively, " And so it is with life, my dear Mabel. The great lesson of love once learned, learned patiently, truly, and with the whole heart, not carelessly scanned, or foolishly toyed with, but diligently received into the soul, and planted there forever this lesson will relieve all life's trials and illumine all its mysteries. But, believe me, my child, it is seldom learned amid life's sunshine and its joy. Its teachings come to us in the silent chambers of thought, when noise is shut out, and the voice of mirth for a time is stilled, and eager pleasure gives place to patient duty. While chasing the butterflies of folly, or wasting the summer hours in play, we cannot take life's great lesson to heart ; but, planted perhaps in sorrow, and nourished perhaps in tears, it will one day blossom in joy and peace. Rouse yourself to this last lesson, Mabel, bring to it your soul's best powers, pursue it with the energy which has been victorious to-day, and I shall have no fear for your future." Mabel did not quite understand at the time, the full force of these spontaneous words, which, prompted by earnest feeling, took rather the form of soliloquy, than an address suited to the child's years. But they were not lost upon her. Like seeds of future promise, they were planted in her young heart; memory kept them warm, and at last, matured by time, they brought forth fruits unto righteousness. 10 MABEL VAUGHAN. And once again. When Mabel had reached her eighteenth year, and the summons had at length been received, which was to call the pupil from the teacher who, during more than half of the young girl's existence, had been to her less an instruc- tress than a parent, words of a similar import were the last warning and the last charge which fell from the revered lips of age and experience upon the listening ear of youth. " Learn above all things, my dear girl," said Mrs Herbert, as they sat together the evening before Mabel's departure, " to beware of self-love, and cultivate to the utmost degree a universal charity. It is the best advice I can give you for your safety, and the surest for your happiness." " Do you think me so selfish then ? " exclaimed Mabel, half grieved at the implication conveyed in her teacher's words. " Oh, there are so many whom I love better than myself! " " I accuse you of no unamiable quality, my dear Mabel, and your generosity has always been proverbial among us ; but, when I charge you to cultivate love for others, even to the for- getfulness of self, you must not misunderstand my meaning. It is because it is so easy and natural to you, my dear child, to love all and everybody, that I wish to warn you of a time, when, instead of being your happiness, and so demanding of you no sacrifice, it may become your trial and your misery ; and it is then that I bid you love on as woman can and must. O, Mabel, there is nothing so insidious as self-love, nothing so noble and so womanly as that divine love which finds its hap- piness in duty." Mrs Herbert's voice trembled with emotion as she spoke, and had anything been wanting to impress her words upon Mabel's heart, that want would have been supplied when she looked in the face of her revered friend, and felt that the les- son she was now so earnestly imparting, was one taught her by experience and proved by faithful practice. Amid the pain of parting with old friends, and the joys and hopes attendant upon her entrance into a new home, this les- son, and that equally impressive one of her early childhood which it had served to call up, were both for a time effaced MABEL VAUGHAN. 11 from Mabel's recollection. But they were not lost. There are lessons which penetrate our hearts like Heaven-sent whis- perings, lessons, simply spoken, scarce heeded when uttered, but proving by their deep and lasting influence that they have their source in the eternal fountain of truth. And so it was with these simple teachings of a faithful, true- hearted woman. It was not the power with which they were spoken, it was not eloquence nor a passion-stirring voice, nor was it the effect of time or circumstance, that stamped them so indelibly on Mabel's heart, but nevertheless they struck upon a chord within, which thrilled at the word, and vibrating through many years, reminded her again and again of the Heavenly lesson which her soul needed for its purification. It was long before the page fully unfolded itself on which that lesson of love was written, and only by years of patient striv- ing were its difficulties overcome ; but often amid the struggle did memory whisper in Mabel's ear the encouraging assurance, that this task once learned, the rest of life's path would be made easy. And is it not so ? Is not woman's mission truly a mission of love ? And can she fail to fulfil all its duties nobly, and find all its trials lightened and relieved when she has once taken to heart that lesson, once fortified herself with that spirit so beautifully exemplified in Him whose life on earth was a glorious manifestation of love made perfect? CHAPTER II. A lovely being scarcely formed or moulded, A rose with all its sweetest leaves yet folded. BTEON. MABEL Vaughan was the daughter of a New York mer- chant, a man of remarkable business capacity, undoubted integrity, and reputed wealth ; one who although of highly respectable parentage, good education, and fair advantages for a start in life, had nevertheless been in a great degree the fram- er of his own fortunes, having passed through all the phases incident to the accumulation of a large property. While thus sacrificing his youth, however, and with it all his best and noblest powers to the pursuit of wealth, he found no opportunity for the forming of domestic ties, and it was not until he was fast verging upon middle life that he even medi- tated, matrimony. He had by this time gained that point in the social scale, when he was marked as a rising man of wide commercial influence, and this distinction, together with his gentlemanly bearing, found him favor in the eyes of a beauti- ful and fashionable woman, whose fair face had captivated his fancy, and whose family connection was such as to gratify his ambition. There was between them no similarity of taste or habit, however, and the union which succeeded their short acquain- tance, was productive of but little happiness to either party. Mr. Vaughan had hoped to find at his own fireside that quiet and relaxation from care, of which he had experienced the want, and failing in this, he sought amid the speculation and excitement of business to forget the disappointment he had experienced in his home, while his wife, after pursuing for a time those gaieties which her husband refused to share, became MABEL VATJGHAN. 13 the victim, first, of complaining self-indulgence, and li ally of positive ill health. Fatal as this utter want of sympathy proved to the welfare of the ill-assorted pair, its consequences were still more ii juri- ous to their children, especially to the eldest, a daughter, who from infancy to womanhood was exposed to all its unfortun te influences. At the birth of this little girl, Mr. Vaughan's interests and affections were again turned from his counting- house, to centre in the home where he once more began to meditate upon those fireside and domestic joys which hald always figured in his dreams of married life. But his wife did not share these fond aspirations, and the child proving an insufficient object to win her from a course of dissipated gayety, was soon abandoned to the care of strangers, save as the father strove at intervals, by fond and injudicious indulgence to atone for the mother's neglect. During six succeeding years, this daughter continued the sole occupant of the nursery, and the sole victim of her parent's mismanagement. At the end of that time a boy, and, a few years after, another girl were added to the household. Louise, however, the eldest, was by this time promoted to the companionship of her mother, who now become a restless and nervous invalid, sought to divert her mind with the pretty and graceful child, whose education and accomplishments she resolved herself to superintend. And the result of such superintendence was this. Louise, at six- teen was a fine dancer, a tolerably skilful musician, and a complete mistress of all the arts of coquetry. Nature had given her a pretty face, and symmetry of form, and early prac- tice had taught her to turn both to good account. Despite her youth, too, she had, by sedulous cultivation, acquired many so- called fascinations of manner, which acted powerfully upon those who shut their eyes to her extreme affectation ; and her utter want of mental and moral discipline was atoned for in the eves of her mother's circle of friends, by a natural quick- ness of intellect, and a proverbial amiability of disposition. These latter qualities, however, so far as she in reality pos- sessed them, were given her at birth. They could not be 14 MABEL VAUGHAN. numbered among her acquirements, for unfortunately her heart, mind, and soul had been quite overlooked in her education. Such being the consequence ' of the mother's supervision, it could scarcely be a matter of regret that Harry and Mabel were, for the most part, shut out from her presence and her care. Harry was so noisy, and his little sister had adopted so many of his rude ways, that both were unfit for her sacred precincts, even if she had considered them of a suitable age to profit by her instruction ; and as it was, she condemned them wholly to the care of a newly-hired nurse. Fortunately this nurse, though ignorant, was faithful ; though severe, impartial ; and though unimaginative, true. She could rarely give satisfactory replies to the questions suggested by their innocent curiosity, but at the same time she taught them no evil. Her management was often such as to thwart their favorite schemes, but she never punished them unjustly, or complained of them without reason ; and if her dull and uncul- tivated intellect failed to furnish diversion for theirs, she at least practised upon them no deception, and entertained them with no gossip. Thus, while their young natures failed to ripen as rapidly as they might have done under other tutelage, and their faculties found little scope for development or growth, they were spared many of the evil influences which had early corrupted the mind of the less fortunate Louise ; and if their young souls were checked in their infant expansion, they at least were not poisoned in the bud. Before Harry had reached his ninth year his impatient spirit burst the bounds of nursery restraint, and obtaining from his indulgent father permission to attend school, he was sent from home to form boyish connections and friendships, leaving his little sister deprived of her cherished playmate, her only com- panion in thraldom. Then followed a dreary season, long remembered by^poor Mabel, when, during many tedious months, she kept on with her lonesome plays, having no variety in her monotonous life, save a daily walk with her nurse, a short visit from her often ab- MABEL VAUGHAN. 15 stracted father, or a summons to the parlor, from which she was sure to be banished on occasion of the slightest childish offence. And then came the release ! Alas, that a mother's death should have imparted new life to her child ! But so it was, though none but angel eyes perhaps traced out the workings of that infinite love which recalled the unfaithful, earthly parent, that a heavenly father's hand might furnish a better guardian- ship for his child. The well-dressed groups who assembled to pay the last honors to her who had once been the ornament of their circle, and wlio bestowed upon her awe-struck and sable- clad daughter the epithets "Poor Mabel!" "Poor little motherless one ! " this short-sighted group would have started, perhaps, at the lesson and shrunk from .the warning, had the voice of truth whispered in their ears that the holiest trust committed to the parent is sometimes recalled, in mercy to the child. Mabel was eight years old when her mother died, and being the only one of the children who was under the paternal roof at the time, she became the more immediate object of her wid- owed father's thoughts. Louise had recently been sent to a fash- ionable boarding-school ; Harry still continued at his academy ; but Mabel must be provided for. Both the calls of business and his own choice combined to render Mr. Vaughan desirous of leaving the country and closing his house for an indefinite period ; but in this case some arrangement must be made which would furnish a suitable home for his little girl. As she sat on his knee one evening, about a week after his wife's death, and his thoughts, sobered by that solemn event, and concentrated more ardently than was their wont upon his children's future welfare, were especially bent upon the promo- tion of Mabel's happiness and improvement, there darted into his mind one of those Heaven-directed ideas, whose happy and far-reaching results seem to prove the divinity of their source. Pe had, within the past month, received a letter informing him of the death of an old friend, one who had been a play- mate of his boyhood, and for whom he had ever continued to 16 MABEL VAUGHAN. feel a warm and consistent regard. This regard had recently been attested by the loan of a sum of money, trifling in the eyes of the wealthy merchant, but of infinite importance to his friend, who, with an increasing family and pursuing a poorly- paid literary career, had become sadly embarrassed for the want of this small amount. He died, however, before an opportunity had ever arrived for defraying the debt, and Mr. Vaughan's recent letter from his widow was written less with the view of informing him of her loss, than to acquaint him with her inability to meet his just demands, and to request his indulgence for the present. This was readily accorded, and with a sigh of regret for his friend, Mr. Vaughan dismissed the subject from his mind. Now, however, as h gazed in the face of his little daughter, reflected upon the disappointment he could not but feel in Louise, and resolved that a wholly different course should be pursued with Mabel's education, he conceived a sudden desire to place her under the sole charge of Mrs. Herbert, the widow of his friend, confide to her the trust of which he felt con- scious he was scarcely more worthy than his wife had been, and delegate to her the entire authority which had thus far been neglected and abused. Mrs. Herbert was poor ; she had three children to support by her own exertions, and was eager and anxious to employ herself profitably. The proposal, therefore, which Mr. Vaughan made without delay, accompanying it with the most generous pecuniary offers, was as promptly accepted ; and thus it hap- pened that Mabel became, as we* have seen, one of Mrs. Herbert's household. We may not pause to trace the benefits which resulted from this event to the widow and her family. The child's coming, indeed, was the signal and forerunner of many blessings ; it roused Mrs. Herbert to hope and to exertion ; it laid the founda- tion for what became in time a well-established and prosperous school ; and long after, when she had acquired independence for herself, and beheld with joy the prosperity of her children, she failed not to look back to Mabel's entrance into her house- MABEL VAUGHAN. 17 hold as the date of all her after success. Often are mercies thus combined, and far-reaching are the schemes of Provi- dence ; but it is with their influence upon Mabel alone that we now have anything to do. She. remained ten years under Mrs. Herbert's care, often passing her vacations in that home which was to her the happiest she had ever known, and never, during this long period, revisiting her native city, save on the occasion of her sister's marriage with a wealthy banker, which took place when Mabel was still a mere child. Mr.Vaughan's house was at that time leased to strangers, and the wedding ceremonies were held under the hospitable roof of a Mrs. Vannecker, a distant relative of the late Mrs. Vaughan, who had been proud to usher Louise into society, and now boasted that she had made the match. Here the family were assembled to participate in the prep- arations and festivities attendant upon the event, all of which were entered into with eager zest by Mabel, and remembered by her afterwards rather as a brilliant dream than an actual reality. With this exception she never left her school, save for a yearly visit to her grandmother, whose residence was within a day's journey from Mrs. Herbert's ; and these visits were of longer or shorter continuance, according to the old lady's state of health, or the convenience of Mabel's aunt, Miss Sabiah Vaughan, who continued to live with her mother, and had charge of the housekeeping. From these absences, however, which from one cause or another were usually of limited dura- tion, she invariably returned with joy to her kind teacher and beloved playmates, by whom she was sure to have been sadly missed, and was always warmly welcomed back, for Mabel was the life of the household. And here, amid healthful influences, and under the judicious training of one of the best of women, she' rapidly developed those powers and capacities which had in her early childhood found little scope for their expansion. Mrs. Herbert was a religious woman, and she spared no 18 MABEL VAUGHAN. paius to impart to Mabel the knowledge and love of virtue. She had sound judgment and a highly cultivated intellect, and patiently sought to guide and strengthen the mind of her pupil, and store it with lasting treasures. She was possessed, too, of those social qualities which give a charm to home and .render a fireside comfortable and happy ; and the youthful group around her were encouraged by her example to the cultivation of every endearing and feminine grace. Nor was she less a practical than an accomplished woman. She understood every branch of house keeping, every art in needle-work, and had acquired, through years of rigid practice, economy, prudence and skill, in. all of which branches her pupils reaped, in a greater or less degree, the benefit of her experience. Thus, during ten years passed in a plain but well-ordered New England homestead, where the highest mental discipline was combined with instruction in the simplest female duties, Ma- bel acquired strength of principle, soundness of knowledge, cheer- fulness of disposition, and useful and industrious habits. Mean- time, her physical development had kept pace with her mental and moral growth ; pure air, healthful exercise, and whole- some diet, strengthening and hardening her frame, while with every succeeding year she grew in beauty and grace, until Mrs. Herbert gazed at length with inward pride and delight upon the fair blossom that her own hand had reared, and which had ripened beneath her very eye. When Mabel, at eight years of age, was first placed under Mrs. Herbert's charge, she was a shy, unformed child, rude in her manners and speech, and wholly unused to any kind of application. At eighteen she was not only beautiful in person, cultivated in mind, and amiable and affectionate in disposition, but to her rich personal and mental gifts she added a winning frankness and cordiality of manner, which, springing as they did from a warm and sincere heart, combined with her other attractions to render her the favorite as well as the pride of her companions. But ]\Iiv. Herbert was not infallible, nor Mabel faultless. MABEL VAUGHAN. 19 True, the former had labored diligently for the improvement of one who, next to her own children, was the principal object of her endeavors and prayers, and had met undoubtedly with a proportionate degree of success. But there were faults in Mabel's character which time and diligence had not yet uprooted ; faults of whose full extent Mrs. Herbert was scarcely aware, and which were fostered by circumstances beyond her con- trol. Mabel's very popularity among her schoolmates exposed her to danger; and amid the varying characters with which she came in familiar contact, she could not wholly escape perni- cious influences, especially during the latter years of her school life, when the number of Mrs. Herbert's pupils had greatly increased. These faults, however, were not vital. They were such only as are common to most girls of her age, and we need not pause to dwell upon them, for in due season they will present them- selves to notice as we follow her in her after career. Conscious as Mrs. Herbert was of a faithful discharge of duty, and well rewarded as her efforts had for the most part been, she had too much good sense, too much knowledge of the waywardness of the human heart, to believe for a moment that Mabel was henceforth secure from temptation, or proof against its assaults. And, therefore, as she read the few hasty lines from Mr. Vaughan, which summoned his daughter to the super- intendence of his house, and the enjoyment of city gayeties, she trembled at the thought that thenceforward Mabel must mark out her own path, unsustained by the guiding hand and almost maternal love which had thus far fostered and protected her. It needed, indeed, no prophetic eye to foresee the peculiar exposures and dangers which awaited Mabel's future. Already had Mrs. Herbert observed the pride with which the fond father, in his occasional visits, gazed upon his daughter's daily increasing charms, and already had she more than once been compelled to remonstrate against the lavish and profuse indul- gence with which he proposed to gratify her girlish whims. She knew, too, the gay and thoughtless circles in which Mrs. Vaughan had moved, in which Louise now shone trium- 20 MABEL VAUGHAN. pliant, and in which Mabel would be sure to be admired, flat- tered, and caressed. And because she knew all this, and because she rightly con- jectured that in this new sphere no pains would be spared to gratify Mabel's vanity, encourage her ambition, foster her pride, and administer to her self-love, did she tremble for her purity of heart and disinterestedness of purpose. She feared that in time of trial, when pleasure stood on one side and duty opposed to it on the other, Mabel's unaided strength would fail in the bitter contest. She feared lest sel- fishness, worldliness, and pride, would triumph at last over the barriers of Christian truth and virtue, which she had sought to rear in the young girl's heart. And so, since henceforward she could protect her only with her prayers, she gave her for a watchword and a shield that simple precept, so gentle in its workings, yet so mighty in its power, that potent spell which disarms every spirit of evil, and is woman's surest weapon, both of warfare and defence, for she sent her forth to the conflict with the armor of Christian love. And Mrs. Herbert and Mabel never met again. Not that either was speedily called from a career of earthly usefulness ; but their paths henceforth lay apart. Often would Mabel gladly have turned to this well-tried confidant and friend for counsel, sympathy, and advice. But it might not be. Other interests soon became bound up in her own, interests in which Mrs. Herbert might not share ; and only partially, and at long intervals, could she, even by letter, impart to this friend of her childhood and youth the secret cares and anxieties which burdened her woman's heart. But there was a spiritual bond between them still, a bond which strengthened with time, and was tempered in adversity, for in her last warning charge, her last earnest lesson, Mrs. Herbert had imparted to Mabel the great truth that woman needs to learn. It slumbered awhile, then awoke in power; at first as a still, small voice, and anon as a flaming sword, it led her on to victory. CHAPTER III. ^ Buoyant, cheerful, happy, bright, r I see thee with a quiet grace, " Make sunlight in a shady place." W. STORY. MABEL'S emotions on bidding farewell to the home of her girlhood were of a mingled character, pain alternating with pleasure, according as memory dwelt upon past joys, or antici- pation pictured forth a brilliant future. Had she foreseen the length of time that would elapse ere she would again set foot in a spot endeared to her by a thousand associations, and had imagination hinted to her the changes which that time would effect, both in herself and in those she left behind, the fond whisperings of hope would have been silenced, and sorrow and regret would alone have filled her heart. But she had a happy, buoyant nature, and in planning schemes for many a summer excursion which should restore her to the old home- stead, and many a winter vacation which should bring Mrs. Herbert and her children to share the hospitalities of her father's roof, she forgot the possibility of the separation's being other- wise than temporary. The moment of parting was indeed a trying one to her affec- tionate nature, and long after the intervening hills had shut even the village spire from her sight, her thoughts lingered with the beloved teacher and companions, whom she still seemed to see grouped together on the doorstep, where they had assem- bled to bid her a sad and tender farewell. But, although her travelling companions gave one day only to a trip which is usually performed in two, it afforded her ample time to rally from her grief, and long before the journey drew to its terini- 22 MABEL VAUGHAN. nation her busy fancy had taken another direction, and gone forth to rehearse the joys attendant upon her welcome home. She pictured to herself the reception she should probably meet from her father, whom she had not seen fjr months. Mabel had but little knowledge of him who stood to her in this tender relation, save from his occasional visits and periodical letters ; and the former had often been suspended^br years, owing to his absence from the country. He was, therefore, imaged to her mind as the tall, gray-haired gentleman, whom, some dozen times during her school life, she had been hastily summoned to Mrs. Herbert's parlor to see ; each of which occasions was associated in her recollection with a holiday, a rich gift, and a drive to the railroad station, some six miles distant, to which she always accompanied him on his departure. That he was the most indulgent of men he had not a doubt, since she could remember no instance in which he had ever denied her requests, or refused to gratify her whims. Of his liberality, her gold watch, her jewelled rings, her well-stocked wardrobe, and ample allowance, had long since furnished evi- dence ; nor, though he seldom gave expression to his feelings, could she be unconscious of the love and pride with which he watched the development of her intellect and her beauty, and triumphed in every added accomplishment and grace. Her intercourse with him, however, had been wanting in that famili- arity which leads to confidence, and, being wholly unacquainted 'with his habits of life and mode of thought, her spirits always received a slight check, and her freedom a slight restraint, in his presence. His letters had been even less indicative of character than his visits ; for, although kind, they were brief and somewhat formal, and, on the whole, he inspired in Mabel more of the respect and gratitude due to a thoughtful guardian, than the trusting love which is wont to subsist between a father and child. She felt conscious, however, that this restraint was unnatu- ral, and as the time had now come when she was to make her father's house her permanent abode, busy fancy suggested that MABEL VAUGHAN. 23 the warmth with which he would welcome her to his heart and home would at once break down every barrier of reserve. Of her sister Louis^, now Mrs. Leroy, she had still less knowledge. She had seen her but twice since her marriage, and on each occasion for a few hours only. Once she had re- ceived a hasty note, informing her that a party, including the Leroys, were travelling in the vicinity of her school and would dine the following day at a neighboring town, where they begged that she would come and meet them. It was about a year after Louise's marriage, and Mabel, then a child, obtained Mrs. Herbert's consent to the plan, and returned in ecstacies with the whole party, especially her beautiful sister. Nor was this impression weakened when, a few years later, Louise ac- companied her father on one of his periodical visits, and came, richly clad, to pass a day at Mrs. Herbert's ; a day which served to heighten the young school-girl's enthusiasm with regard to the surpassing charms of her sister, an enthusiasm which was kept alive, inasmuch as it was, to a great degree, shared by all her young companions. She looked forward, therefore, to daily companionship with one so lovely, accomplished and fascinating, as scarcely less an honor than a happiness. Nor in her visions of a joyous welcome did Mabel fail to give a prominent place to her little nephews, two beautiful boys,' whom she had never yet seen ; and, naturally warm of heart, extravagantly fond of children, and eminently qualified to excite affection on their part, it was no slight addition to her looked-for happiness that fancy pictured these little ones bound- ing to embrace an aunt whom they had doubtless already been taught to love. But, although father, sister, and nephews all figured in the vision which Mabel mentally formed of her future home, not one of them stood in the foreground of her imagination for memory furnished no link which associated them with the home of her infancy. Bright and joyous as her anticipations were of what these relatives might become to her in the future, there were no sweet, childish recollections connected with them, to awaken the tender thoughts which cling around a parent's 24 MABEL VAUGHAN. hearth. They were all, in truth, more or less strangers to her, and her conjectures concerning them, however pleasing, were necessarily vague and indistinct. But there was one member of her family whose very name was suggestive to Mabel's heart of happiness, kindred, and home. There was one whose relation to herself was natural and true; who, from the cradle upwards, had shared her inter- ests, her sorrows, and her joys ; who had been the playmate of her infancy and the confidant and companion of her girlhood. Her dutiful affection for her father and her admiring love for her sister were of comparatively recent growth, but memory could recall no time when she had not dearly loved her brother. With him was connected every association of that early age when, shut out from the sympathy of the rest of the household, they were all in all to each other. Her mother's neglect and her sister's indifference were either unnoticed at the time or had long since been forgotten by Mabel ; so, too, had the bril- liant and richly furnished rooms from which she had often been banished in disgrace ; but there still rose, fresh and clear to her recollection, the nursery where she and Harry played, the little hopes which they had mutually shared, and the little disap- pointments over which they had wept together. Nor were these tender memories all that had hallowed their affection; for, while time, separation, and absence, had built barriers be- tween the other members of the family, Harry and Mabel had been in the habit of yearly intercourse, often passing many weeks in the enjoyment of each other's society. Not only did they usually meet on occasion of the annual visit to old Mrs. Vaughan, but nearly all Harry's school vacations were passed at Mrs. Herbert's, or at a boarding-place in the neighborhood, so that the happy home which Mabel had found with her kind instructress came to be considered scarcely less a home by Harry, who voluntarily went there for the holidays. A longer separation than usual intervened during two years, which the latter passed at West Point; but this was atoned for by the happiness with which Mabel welcomed the young cadet on occasion of his short leave of absence, and the mingled pride MABEL VAUGHAN. 25 and delight with which she listened to her schoolmates' whis- pered encomiums of her soldier-brother. Arid when, a few months later, he engaged in a boyish frolic, and was suddenly dismissed from the Military Academy, whose strict rules he had infringed, Mabel readily accepted his apolo- gies, allowed herself to be convinced that he was the most injured of mortals, and loved him all the more for the injustice he had suffered. Mr. Vanghan then sent him abroad to spend two years at a German University, since which time he had been permitted to make the tour of Europe, a tour which the son had protracted beyond the original intentions of the father, but from which he had now unexpectedly returned. This long absence from Mabel, however, had only served to unite him more closely to her in interest and in heart. Their correspondence had been constant. It was, moreover, full, free and unrestrained, being not only a faithful communication of facts and events, a familiar interchange of thoughts and ideas, but an affectionate outpouring of mutual love. There was no corner of the old world which Harry's foot had trod to which Mabel had not in spirit followed him ; no city, river, or mountain which was not enshrined in her memory as the spot which had furnished Harry with some gay adventure, some historic musing, or some vision of glory ; and there was no partner in his winter studies or summer wanderings who did not henceforth stand high in her regard, because he was her brother's friend. Thus, from childhood upwards they had been united in each other's love, and every year had but served to strengthen the bonds of mutual dependence and mutual trust. Isolated as both had been from any other strong family tie, the repose, the sympathy, the confiding love which are the most hallowed influ- ences of home had been more fully perfected in their relation to each other, and ready as Mabel was to acknowledge the claims of the rest of her family, her heart assured her, as she drew near her father's house, that it was Harry's presence there which alone entitled it, in her estimation, to the name of home. 3 26 MABEL VAUGHAN. . The first intimation she had received of her brother's return from his foreign tour, was contained in the recent letter from her father, which had summoned her to meet Harry in New York and preside over the festivities attendant upon- the re- union of the long scattered family. "I cannot arrange matters," wrote he, "so as to join you at any point on your journey ; you will he rejoiced, however, to hear that not only Louise, the children and myself will be in New York to welcome you, but your brother Harry is on board the steamer which was yesterday reported at Halifax, and he will arrive here by to-morrow at the latest.''* It was a dismal autumn afternoon when Mabel reached the city. She had travelled in company with a party of Mr. Vaughan's friends, of whose proffered attendance he had gladly availed himself, and, unfortunately for her hopes of a cordial greeting, she arrived one day sooner than had been anticipated. A less gay and joyous spirit than hers would perhaps have received a sudden check, at the air of soberness and gloom which the paternal mansion wore on her first entrance, at the utter silence which pervaded the hall and par- lors, and the stately formality with which she was received by the grave and elderly footman. At first, indeed, she looked round in some anxiety, lest she had mistaken the house, espe- cially, as the tall, stiff figure of a lady dressed in black was just disappearing, at the head of the staircase, with the air of one who is hastily retreating from the sight of visitors. Mabel knew of no such person in the family, and in order to quiet her doubts turned to the footman, and exclaimed inquiringly, " Tliis is Mr. Vaughan's, my father's ? " " Certainly, Miss," replied the man, " but you were not expected until to-morrow." A pretty waiting-maid now advanced from the end of the hall, to offer her services to her new mistress, and at the same moment, the tall, stiff lady who had been leaning over the bannisters to listen, began slowly and cautiously to descend the stairs. Mabel looked up, and to her astonishment, perceived her aun