I I I SYDNIE ADRIANCE. POPULAR BOOKS By MISS -A.. M. 1>OTJOI^A.8, Uniform with this volume. $1.50 each. 1. IN TRUST; Or, Dr. BertrancTs Household. 2. STEPHEN DANE. 3. CLAUDIA. 4. SYDNIE ADRIANCE; Or, Trying the World. "The style of fiction of this author is not of that sensational character so devoid of truth and nature that the reader can find no parallel of characters in real life, but the incidents seem more like photographs of facts, tinted by the im- agination of the writer, even as a picture Is touched by a skilful artist" American Baptist. Sold by all Booksellers and Newsdealers, and sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of price. LEE & SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS, BOSTON. SYDNIE ADRIANCE; OB, TRYING THE WORLD. BY AMANDA M. DOUGLAS, AUTHOR OF " IN TRUST," " STEPHEN DAME," " CLAUDIA," ETC. Student. How does the book begin, go on, and end? Fettut. It has a plan, bat no plot. Life hath none. BAILKY. BOSTON: LEE AND SHEPARD. 1869. Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by AMANDA M. DOUGLAS, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. JSertotyped at the Boston Stereotype Foundry, 19 Spring Lane. TO MTRA JENNIE GERMOND, IN REMEMBRANCE OF PAST DAYS, SHADY AND SUNNY. 2051-131 STDNIE ADRIANCE; OB, THE WORLD. CHAPTER I. " Our birth is but a sleep nnd a forgetting; Tin' soul that rifles with us, our life's star, Hath had elsewhere its setting, And cometh from afar. Not in entire forgetfulness, And not in utter nakedness, But trailing clouds of glory do we come From (;Jod, who is our home." WORDSWORTH. I BELIEVE I shall keep a journal. It is one of those sullenly rainy days in summer when Nature seems determined to maintain a perpetual drizzle without accomplishing much ; a purposeless, vague, dreamy day. An indistinct presence fills the silent spaces with phantoms half human, and my mood, speculative and questioning, chimes in with it. Since my little bark of life, freighted with one human heart, is about to commence her voyage on the broad ocean of the world, it may inter- est me to note the incidents. Three months ago I was eighteen. Now it is July. I have graduated at school, nnd am awaiting the arrival of my guardian, who is doubtless an elderly, good-natured, prosy sort of man, of whom I know absolutely nothing, (9) 10 SYDNIE ADRIANCE, OB except that I am to be brought out under the auspices of his sister, who is a widow. My dear, kind Mr. Anthon, whom I did love, has been dead two years, and these St. Johns are distant relatives of his. Some curious spell has followed me thus far. A life not wanting in incident, but deficient in all the brightness and glad hopes that make childhood a fairy land, an en- chanted country that one can retire to when the cares of the world press hard and close. But if the tales of poets are true, I do not think I had any childhood. My first remembrance seems to be of a deep forest, so thickly wooded that the light penetrated only at rare in- tervals. A ledge of rock ran through it, threaded by a small rivulet, whose trickle made a pleasant melody. I believe that spot was my birthplace. No matter where my mortal eyes first saw the light, my soul sprang into existence there, baptized in floods of solemn glory, and my natal hymn chanted by winds that blew "gales from heaven." After this comes a picture of a dark, gloomy house, with great eaves shadowing the windows; trees, tall and straight; old-fashioned flower-beds, stiff and formal, un- like the freedom and grace of nature. I wonder now if they never felt tempted to rebel? ./did when my oppor- tunity came. The place was roomy, but only three apartments were in general use. Once a year, when the clergyman came to tea, the parlor was opened. The furniture was all heavy and dark, every article kept strictly in its place. Here I lived with my two great-aunts and a serving man. The former were maiden ladies, always old to me, reticent to sternness, yet not harsh. They were invariably dressed with the utmost neatness ; they never talked loud or fast ; went about the house quietly, and performed the same tapir". - . ~ cf*":r f 1 -"" TT * : ' 1 ~~ ' '' " ' TRYING THE WORLD. 11 Aunt Mildred was a trifle the smaller. I think, too, she had a gentler nature ; and though I never clung to her, I had a different feeling concerning her. Children soon learn to make distinctions. They were not tender women. Neither ever caressed me. I did not miss it, for all those early years my life must have been mere negation. One day an incident occurred that changed the tenor of my thoughts. A lady visited us, bringing a little girl of my own age. I was shy at first, but she most gracious. Golden-haired and fair as a lily, I took her at once as a type of the angels of my Bible stories. But, alas ! she was vain, self-willed, imperious in temper, and full of petty deceit. My creed up to this time had been very simple, and the child astonished me. Her mother kissed and petted her continually, and there came to my heart a strange want. Being a novice in the art of entertainment, I took her to my nook in the woods, and I certainly must have amazed the poor child by my eloquent description. "Is it your play-house?" she asked. " Have you dollies and dishes in it ? Why doesn't your aunt give you some cake and sweetmeats to take there?" " It's like a cathedral," I returned, though I confess my notions on the subject of cathedrals were exceedingly vague. " If I had a doll I shouldn't take it. Dolls can't see nor think." "I'm afraid," she said, shivering. "There are ghosts and witches in such dark places. I don't want to go." " It's so beautiful ! " I returned. " And I never saw a ghost. I don't believe there are any." We trudged on. I half carried her, in spite of her de- sire to return. At length we reached the summit of the rock, and I waited for her to be entranced with the weird beauty. She stared around with a look of blank wonder. 12 SYDNIE ADRIANCE, OR "I don't see anything but rocks and trees," she ex- claimed, pettishly, "It's a dismal place, and I want to go. home." Taking her in my arms, I walked down with an indig- nant heart. It seemed sacrilege to let her feet so much as touch a dead leaf. Ah ! I did not know then that some souls were born deaf and blifid, except as to material wants. And when, a few days after, as I was enjoying the grandeur of a summer shower, with its vivid lightning and heavy tread of thunder, she buried her face in her mother's lap, and shrieked with terror until the shutters were closed, the measure of my contempt for her was full. Yet that brief visit worked a great change in my child- ish ideas. My mother was dead. I had seen her grave in the churchyard ; but I had never heard my father spoken of. I speculated a while, and one day, as I sat sewing, I said, suddenly, " Aunt Mildred, where is my father ? " She let her work fall, and started in surprise ; but aunt Hester answered sternly, "He is dead." "Why. is he not buried with my mother?" " He did not die here," aunt Mildred said, recovering herself. Then, carelessly, " Sydnie, run, find Peter, I want to see him before he goes to the village." My errand did not detain me a moment. Crossing the hall I heard aunt Hester say, in a louder key than usual, " I tell you she shall be brought up to despise her father as much as her silly, infatuated mother loved him." " You forget that in two years she can have her choice to go or stay." "She shall hear my story first, I mean to keep this girl. She is the last of our family, and who has a better TRYING THE WORLD, 13 right ? Her father and grandfather have caused us suffer- ing enough." When I entered they subsided into their usual gravity, I was afraid to ask any further questions ; but that even- ing, meeting Peter in the garden, I said, eagerly, " Did you ever see my father, Peter ? " " What do you know about him ? " the man asked, in surprise. " I know that my mother loved him," was my confident reply ; and love was no longer an idle term with me. " Poor child, it would have been better for her if she had never seen him." " Why ? " was my importunate question, " Is he really dead ? and why did he go away when my mother loved him?" " It's no story for little girls. Your aunts will tell you about it some day." I had to content myself thera Trained to habits of implicit obedience, I had not the confidence to venture upon any overt act, and there really seemed nothing to do. So I wondered what would happen in two years. It was like a lifetime. But I went on with the old routine* Studying and sewing at stated hours, reading aloud, ram- bling about the woods, taking occasional drives with my aunts, and going to church on Sundays, were the events of my life, I began to realize that I was shut away from the world, as it were, the world that I learned about in my books, and I longed for some change with an inten- sity that fairly exhausted my strength. Aunt Mildred grew tenderer towards me ; but I needed more than pas- sive kindness. One incident alone broke the vague dreaminess of those years. There was a room adjoining the parlor that I bad never seen open; but finding the door ajar during the an.- 14 SYDNIE ADRIANCE, OR nual cleaning, I ventured in with great trepidation. I remember it being a perfect May morning, with floods of sunshine falling everywhere. Even here it had penetrated. Of furniture or arrangement I took little note. On the wall hung a portrait of such exquisite beauty that I was transfixed. Some strange and subtile intuition thrilled me at once. "Edith, aged 19," sleeping in her churchyard grave, became a sudden reality to me. I clasped my hands with a low cry, " Mother ! mother ! " Hardly more than a whisper, yet my own voice frightened me. I stood there until a hand touched my shoulder. Turning, I saw aunt Mildred. " It is my mother ! " I exclaimed, almost angrily. " Yes. Hush ; come away. Some time I will tell you about her," and the vision was shut out of my longing eight. " Tell me now," I cried. " Hush. I have promised that I would not. When you are twelve years old you shall know the story. Be patient until then." How was I to be patient a whole year? I cannot tell now how I endured it, but never was year so long. I used to have a fancy that aunt Mildred shunned me ; that as the time approached she grew colder and more distant. What change was impending? How clearly I remember the day ! With earliest dawn I was awake. Birds were twittering among the trees, breezes odorous with the peculiar freshness of spring swept through my room as I opened the window. I no longer shared my aunts' apartment, and here I reigned sole mis- tress. Twelve years old! What would happen to me before night? It fairly annoyed me that everything should be unchanged. The breakfast table, the same light household tasks, the quiet orders. Presently I brought my books. TRYING THE WORLD. 15 " We will not have any lessons, since it is your birth- day," aunt Hester began, graciously. " Your aunt Mil- dred and I have been preparing some gifts for you, and after dinner we will take a pleasant drive. You are grow- ing a large girl now, and will become more and more of a companion to us." I was amazed and delighted. Some new dresses, that looked lovely to my inexperienced eyes, a hat with a beautiful wreath of flowers, books, a work-box in com- plete order, a drawing-book with a set of pencils, and a small gold locket. I broke into the wildest enthusiasm ; and though I thought of my mother, and the story I was to hear, it seemed like ingratitude to remind them of it now. Indeed I was busy enough arranging my treasures, and noon came before I was aware. A little while after dinner I stood on the porch, dressed in my new finery, waiting for aunt Mildred. A man came briskly up the path, and, in answer to my exclama- tion, aunt Hester turned. Even now I can recall the ashen hue that overspread her countenance. "Miss Adriance," the stranger said, holding out his hand, " I hope I find you in good health. Is this my little ward ? " Something in his face and voice attracted me wonder- fully. The health, vigor, and cheerfulness, the breezy ring in the tones, the bright smile, were like letting the sun- shine into a dark room. "You seem to be in great haste," aunt Hester said, sharply. He laughed. " I believe the stipulation was that I should come to-day. Isn't it her birthday?" nodding to me. "Yes," I answered, with sudden boldness. Aunt Mildred made her appearance, but started back in dismay when she observed the visitor. 16 SYDNIE ADRIANCE, OR " If you were going out, I will not detain you now," he said. " We can have our talk afterwards." "It makes no difference," was the haughty reply. " Pe- ter," as he was driving around, "we shall not go this afternoon. Will you walk in ? " We all followed aunt Hester to the state parlor. She opened the shutters, and begged the guest to be seated. Then she would have dismissed me. "You have told her how she is situated, I presume," he said. " Have you decided whether you will try the Vorld, little girl, or stay here in your cloister?" "She knows nothing," aunt Hester interrupted. "A child like her could not understand." "I mean that she shall understand fully," he said, deci- sively. " I certainly shall keep the promise I made to her dying mother. At the age of twelve, you know, she was to have her choice to remain here, or to go away to school." " Sydnie," my aunt said, " go to your room and lay aside your hat. You can return presently." I obeyed, but remained up stairs thinking of what I had heard. How many times during the last year I had felt cramped and fettered in this narrow life! And to get out of it with a bound, to be free, to see something besides this lonely house ! The idea carried me captive. Aunt Hester broke in upon my reverie. The story that I had longed for was given in a bitter, resentful manner. My mother, after years of care and kindness, had eloped with a poor, miserable wretch, who had married her simply for her money, and, failing to obtain possession of that, had deserted her. She had come back to them broken- hearted, and they had received her, or rather they had gone to her in her extremity, and at her death, which had occurred shortly after, taken sole charge of me. Mr. An- TRYING THE WORLD. 17 thon had also been appointed my guardian, and, as he had already said, at the age of twelve I should be at liberty to go to school if I chose. She set forth the hardship and trials of school life, the duty I owed them for their years of kindness, the impossibility of my leaving them, and presently allowed me to go to Mr. Antbon. I was in a whirl of confusion, my bright visions sadly dimmed. I must have betrayed it in my face, for Mr. An- thon drew me near him and soothed me with his kindly voice. " It will be a hard fight, little girl," he said, " and but for one or two reasons I should not urge you to make it. Your mother was most anxious you should be brought up with companions of your own age. She traced some of the misfortunes of her life to her lack of knowledge and experience, and she wished you to be forewarned. She was left a babe, in the charge of her father's sisters. I believe he had disappointed them a good deal in his marriage. They loved her with a jealous, extravagant fondness; but a younger heart won her; and when they forbade her lover the house, she listened to him and eloped. It was unwisely done, poor child. The story is too sad for one so young as you. Suffice it that they are both dead. It was her wish that at twelve you should go to school, and see more of the world than is possible in this secluded corner. I think it best also. Your great-aunts are past the prime of life ; and, though it would be pleas- ant for them to keep you, at their death you would be altogether unfitted for occupying the position you might take. They consult their wishes instead of your good." A child is easily won perhaps. I thought of the last two dreary years, and how constantly I had wished for a change. If I only dared to go ! But what if I should not like it? 9, 18 SYDNIE ADBIANCB, OB He laughed genially. " No fear of that, I think ; and if you're tired of it in three months' time, I'll promise to bring you back." Mr. Anthon staid all night. During the evening I could not help contrasting him with my aunts. How prim and austere they seemed ! How sharp aunt Hester's tones were! " Aunt Mildred," I said, the next morning, " what would you do?" A strange, pained look came into her face. " Child," she answered, huskily, " do as you like." "I should like to go," I said, slowly. She came quite close to me, and I observed how tremu- lous her tones were. " It will be hard to part from you, but I think you are right. Aunt Hester has all the Adriance pride. She would like you to stay here, and carry on the old place after we are dead. You couldn't do it one woman alone. You need something different from this. What happiness or pleasure would there be in it ? " "You will not think me ungrateful," I said, hesitat- ingly- "No, no; unless the after years prove you so. I will not advise, for it seems traitorous to* go against my own. sister, but " We looked at each other. I understood what she meant. We were not in the habit of giving confidences, nor was I a demonstrative child; but she stooped and kissed me, and I felt armed with her approval. My wardrobe was arranged with a sort of sullen indiffer- ence. I believe I was really glad to go at the last, though grieved at parting with aunt Mildred. But Mr. Anthon kept me in fine spirits during the journey; and when we reached my new home I found my courage equal to the TRYING THE WORLD. 19 emergency. Two of Mr. Anthon's nieces were there, rosy, laughing girls, resembling him so nearly that I soon felt at ease with them ; and though shy to a degree that only a child accustomed to a solitary life could realize, in the course of a few weeks I began to feel contented and satis- fied. My tasks were not hard, and music, being an entirely new pleasure, enraptured me. My vacation came in October, and Mr. Anthon took me home. The place chilled me. I wondered how these two women could go on in such an apathetical round. Glad enough was I to get back to school. I began to realize how wide a gulf there was between us, made not only by years, but habit, prejudices, and perhaps blood ; for I confess I felt a little akin to my father. Mr. Anthon had once said that my mother never blamed him ; and that was enough for me. One bleak midwinter day I was suddenly summoned to the drawing-room, and found my guardian quite unlike his usual cheery self. Indeed, I had never seen him look so grave. " I am the bearer of bad news, little girl," he said, slowly. "You must go home immediately. Your aunt Mildred is very ill, and desires to see you." My heart yearned towards her instantly. " Aunt Hester is well ? " was half question, half assertion. "I don't want to shock you; but there have been sad times in the old house. Miss Hester was taken with paralysis a fortnight ago ; but she rallied very soon, and was thought improving until yesterday, when she had another attack, which proved fatal in a few hours. Your aunt Mildred, worn out with nursing her, is now ill with a fever. She despatched a messenger to me early this morning. It is too late to start to-night, but we will go to-morrow as soon as you can get ready." 20 SYDNIE ADKIANCE, OB Mrs. Derwent, the principal, was summoned to a consul- tation, and all arrangements made for my journey. I know now that I must have seemed a most peculiar child to her. I was more stunned than grieved ; and then even the idea of death was new to me. It was nearly dusk of the short winter day when we reached home. I shivered as I walked slowly up the gar- den path. The frozen ground gave back a sullen thud to my tread, and the hoarse wind sang dismally among the leafless trees. No matter how quiet a place may be nat- urally, the presence of death renders it more solemn. I felt the oppression in every nerve, for I had become so ac- customed to stir and tumult, and the glad voices of chil- dren. A strange woman received us, but I went up to aunt Mildred's room as soon as I took off my wrappings. I was shocked by the change in her. The face was wan and ashy pale, the soft eyes preternaturally bright with the fever that was consuming her. There was some passion in my heart, although it had been dwarfed by the absence of nourishing sympathies, and now it rushed to the surface like a flood. I threw my arms over the pillow, and kissed her with remorseful tenderness, exclaiming, in tones of anguish, " O, aunt Mildred, you must not die ! Only live, and I will never, never leave you again. I was wrong in want- ing to go away." " Child," she said, " do not distress yourself. Remember that I am an old woman, and could not expect much more of life. God is wiser than we, and knows best." Something in her tone awed me. "We are the last of our race, and it is well," she went on, slowly. "There is a different current running through your veins. Mine was warmer in youth; and yet the TRYING THE WORLD. 21 bright hopes of life never prospered with me. We were both proud, too proud. One sees it at the last. Has Mr. Anthon come ? I want to talk with him." "You are not able," the nurse said. " As able as I shall ever be. After supper I want him sent to inc. There is a little business to transact." I sat by the bed, holding her hand, until called down stairs. I saw no more of her that evening ; but Mr. An- thon spent nearly an hour with me, trying to comfort and advise. The next day aunt Hester was buried. A lonesome funeral, for she had in her lifetime secluded herself from friends and neighbors. I took one glance at the rigid face, but it looked so unlike my remembrance of her that I could hardly realize the fact of relationship. Aunt Mil- dred had seemed improving, though her recovery was considered impossible. This second evening set in chill and rainy. My supper was sent away untouched, and presently I was summoned to the sick room. Aunt Mildred dismissed her nurse, and drew me to the very edge of the bed. I kissed the wrinkled cheek, and took her hands in mine. " I have a long story to tell you," she began, " and I will not defer it until too late. When you are older you will understand it better, but I shall not be here then. Try to judge us both leniently." She moved uneasily upon the pillow, and I felt her clasp tighten. " You asked me once about your mother. Your grand- father married, abroad, a Spanish woman of wonderful beauty. He brought her home soon after your mother's birth ; and he came back only to die, for his health had been delicate many years. He had wasted the larger part 22 SYDNIE ADRIANCE, OB of his fortune, and his wife and child were left to our care. Between Mrs. Ad nance and Hester there was a strong antagonism. She remained with us simply because she had no other home ; but it was only for a few years. She died suddenly, and her child was ours. My sister exulted in this. She watched the little one with a more than mother's fondness and jealous care. We were com- paratively young then, and had not so completely given tip society. Your mother was beautiful and attractive, and was barely seventeen when she announced her en- gagement with a young man of whom we knew nothing. Aunt Hester was very angry. She dismissed him herself, and bade your mother forget him. Being high-spirited, this led to a bitter quarrel, which was ended at length by your mother leaving her home and becoming a wife. I tried to intercede for her, but it was useless. She wrote two or three very sweet letters, but Hester remained im- placable, and declared her disowned forever. u Some fifteen months afterwards she wrote again, beg- ging that her small fortune might be advanced, as they were in pressing want, and her husband's health had failed. Hester paid no attention to this ; but in a few weeks another letter was received, imploring us to hasten to her immediately. I was not well, so Hester went alone, and shortly afterwards returned with your mother and your- self, then but two months of age. How changed from the bright girl who had once been our delight ! Your father had gone to his relatives, and died after a short illness, though she confessed that he had overtasked himself by some exertion that had brought on one attack of hemor- rhage before he left her. His relatives had discarded her altogether, and she was indeed broken-hearted. She wasted away rapidly, and soon added another to the list of early deaths. One day, shortly after the burial, a TRYING THE WORLD. 23 stranger visited us and held a long conversation with Hester. Whatever the subject was she kept to herself, only when she came in the room afterwards I noted that her face had a strange, set look, and her lips were nearly colorless. "'This child is all ours,' she said, fiercely. 'The world shall be shut out from her as rigidly as if she were in a convent. She shall have no chance for friendship or love beyond us.' "I should have told you that your mother appointed Mr. Anthon your guardian, and arranged that you should go to school for two years when you had reached the age of twelve, and after that choose whether you would remain with us, or henceforward battle with life yourself. Aunt Hester resolved to bring you up in such seclusion that you would be unhappy among strangers, and wish to return, knowing well that Mr. Anthon would not insist upon your staying if it rendered you really miserable. I made some weak attempts to interfere, but she was always the stronger and overruled me ; and, though I loved you, I was help- less. Besides, you appeared cheerful and contented, and I was afraid of rendering you dissatisfied, without being able to place any better aliment in your way. Forgive us both my weakness and her jealous coldness. Old blood does not warm easily. I want you to have a happier life than we ever knew. This place is to be sold. Mr. An- thon will tell you the rest. Kiss me, child, and remember me kindly when I am gone. Mine has been a poor, wasted life." I kissed her with a strange awe, and hardly understood the full import of what she had said. " Call the nurse." The woman would have sent me away, but I felt that aunt Mildred wanted me, for the wistful eyes watched me 24 SYDNIE ADRIANCE, OB unceasingly. I promised to be very quiet, and kept my seat, still holding her hand. She was very much exhausted, and scarcely seemed to breathe. That was a weird, ghostly night, and haunts me yet. The red blaze of the logs upon the hearth, the fitful glare of the candle, the winds moaning outside, dashing fierce gusts of rain against the windows, and the awesome silence within. I tried to think of my mother, but all in my brain was chaos. The nurse seated herself by the fire, and pres- ently fell into a doze. I was not a coward, yet a peculiar fear seemed to pervade every nerve, and I watched breath- lessly for something that I could not define or shape into thought. The candle burned dimly, the blaze on the hearth began to smoulder, and the room was peopled with phantoms. There was a stir, and a feeble voice murmured, " Syd- nie I " I bent over aunt Mildred until my cheek touched hers. It was unlike anything I had ever felt. " One thing more. Forgive her poor, worn heart, dis- tracted with its own jealous longings. I know she was sorry afterwards; but she destroyed it in a moment of fierce passion. The picture " I was too much frightened to comprehend, or utter any cry. "Is it morning?" " No," I said ; " it must be near midnight." "God help us all, for we are weak, and the way is thorny. Child, Sydnie, let us go, for the day breaks." She clutched my hand, and partially raised herself, then fell back. I understood the struggle, yet could not stir, fascinated by the very terror. How many moments I know not, but the candle gave an expiring flash, and went out. The nurse roused herself, and lighted another. TRYING TUB WORLD. 25 Coming to the bed, she glanced at the set and stony eyes. "Why, miss, she's dead !" was her terrified exclamation. It was blindness, darkness, nothingness to me. I knew they took me out of the room, but for days after that I was ill for the first time in my life. Mr. Anthon staid until I was sufficiently recovered to go back to school. I was thankful to leave the dreary place, and glad to hear that it was to be sold. My moth- er's portrait had been destroyed by a ruthless hand, so there was nothing I cared to retain. " There'll be a brighter life before you," my guardian said, kindly. " Those two old women moped themselves to death, and Avere full of whims and cranks. It was enough to kill any child. And I don't think Miss Hester did the right thing by you or your mother. However, that's all over now." It was not all over with me for a long while ; but I did outgrow those impressions with the years. Three were spent with Mrs. Derwcnt, then a change was deemed ad- visable. In my quiet, self-contained way I had learned to love Mr. Anthon dearly. Every vacation was made delightful by some pleasure trip, wearing away more and more the isolation produced by my childhood. Two years ago he died, as I have said. I missed him sorely, and am afraid I shall not take kindly to my new guardians, Mr. St. John and his widowed sister, Mrs. Law- rence. She called, shortly after her relative's death ; but all I seem to remember was a glitter of silk and lace, and a shimmer of blonde curls. I am to enter society under her auspices. I wonder howl shall like the great world ! Most of the girls are eager to try it ; but 1 dread leaving my clois- 26 SYDNIE ADRIANCE, OB ter. We have gossiped over it in a thoughtless fashion, as if love and marriage were all. It is curious to stand on the threshold of a new life, not knowing whither one is to go. The silent night falls over me as I write. The rain has ceased, and through the rifted clouds the stars are shining. TRYING THE WORLD. 27 CHAPTER II. 11 Do you not know I am a woman ? When I think I must sponk." KOSALIXD. I AM at Laurel wood. Let me go back to the day on which I commenced my journal. The next morning I received a note, stating that Mr. St. John would call for me at four, as the- boat left at five. I believe Dr. Johnson somewhere says we can never do a thing consciously for the last time without a feeling of sadness. I experienced the truth of this re-mark. Though the long dining-hall was nearly deserted, there was a homelike charm about the place. Even the vase of col- ored grasses, grown tiresome on other days, held a certain sense of beauty. The walks I had paced, the room in which I had studied and dreamed, wore the look of a fa- miliar friend. "Farewell," I said, with a pang, for it was hard to dissever my thoughts from them. At the appointed time I was summoned to the recep- tion room, and introduced to Mr. St. John. He was not at all what I had expected, and the difference made me positively shy and awkward. A man about thirty, tall, compact, and full without being stout, with a chest and limbs one gives to the old athletes. He impressed me as having a peculiar strength, and his face completed the suggestion. I did not think him handsome at first. I watched him as he talked to Miss Deforrest, and found an odd, piquant charrn in his face. A broad, full fore- head, and a really magnificent head, hair of a nondescript 28 SYDNIE ADBIANCE, OB color, brown in one of its variations, I suppose, fine and silky, the ends curling in dainty rings. I set that down as too girlish ; beard of a little deeper color, almost black un- derneath ; a fair, fresh complexion, with a smooth, soft skin, like a child's; eyes of a blue or gray, with a curious, steely gleam; straight, delicate brows above them; a straight nose, Grecian in type ; a small mouth, with curved, scarlet lips. But the sense of power and will grew upon you. In some moods this face could be very tender; in others, bit- ter, perplexing, imperious and indifferent. JVIiss Deforrest was called away. Mr. St. John glanced down to my end of the sofa with the good-natured smile one gives a child. " The rain interfered with my plans yesterday," he said, and the voice was like the man not what one usually meets with. "I expected to come for you. I dare say you had the blues shockingly." " I am not much troubled with that malady," I answered, curtly. "How odd ! I thought all school-girls were subject to it. But of course rainy days make you cross." The assurance in the tone vexed me. "I have no particular dislike to rainy days; on the con- trary, I think some are positively enjoyable," I said, coldly. "I shall watch the next stormy day with great interest ;" and there was a little gleam in his eye that provoked me/ I would not make any answer. "I believe I shall have to send you to make your adieus," he said, presently, glancing at his watch. " It is quite a ride to the landing." I merely bowed, and left him. There were a few fare- wells and kindly wishes, and then I put on my bonnet and mantle, and took one last glimpse of myself in the little mirror. Was the face I saw crude and school-girlish ? TRYING THE WORLD. 29 Onr drive was a very quiet one. I had an uncomfortable consciousness that Mr. St. John's eyes were studying me, yet if I turned mine to his vicinity, his expression was grave and absent. Some of the girls had been fond of discussing faces and predicting character, a subject that always interested me deeply. I wondered what any other person would think of him ; and because I could not please myself in an analysis, I was fairly nnnoyed. Indeed, he seemed to make his face express very little just then ; but I had a misgiving that it was only like a crouching lion, the power held in reserve. lie was most kind and gentlemanly, not with any excess of politeness, but the peculiar case that makes one feel thoroughly comfortable. We found our way through the crowd at the wharf, and my belongings were soon safely deposited in my state-room. The whole scene was novel to me, because my own position in it was so new. After supper we went on deck. The shores we were leaving behind made suggestive pictures in their length- ened perspective. Yellow fields, heavy and ripe for har- vest; clumps of woods, dense and shadowy; clustering villages; boats skimming the river, and an occasional flock of homeward-bound birds. The air was fragrant with the Bpicy breath of summer and the dewiness of coming night. Just as the sun was setting, the moon rose, and the effect of the double light upon the water was indescribable. The clouds, rolling off to the horizon, made long, low islands of purple and sapphire, that seemed floating in a sea of pearl, while now and then a crimson arrow shot up, leaving in its wake a long trail of golden glory. The river was calm, with slow, regular swells, except where the boat flung upward a line of foam. A light mist crept along the curves of the shore, like a troop of fairy phantoms. Here we passed dusky ravines, there a rock where the water 30 STDNIE ADRIAXCE, OR dashed up in playful passion, making its gray sides sparkle as if set with gems. My companion pointed out some spot lovelier than the rest, with the eye of one who had studied nature closely. "How grave you have grown," he said, at length. "Do you grieve for what you are leaving behind?" "Not quite that," I made answer; "and yet one does shrink a little from an untried life, with its stern realities." "Are you given to conjuring up giants in the way? As if life was likely to be anything but rose-color to a girl who holds as much in her hands as people usually do!" "It is sometimes," I said, positively. "You have been cultivating imagination largely." "I may have had some reality, although you seem so doubtful about it," I answered. "No life is all sunshine, nor was it so intended. And yet I think God doesn't mean us to fear the future. We are to take up daily events with hopeful hearts, and shape them into a higher form than crude fragments." "But how few live in earnest!" for somehow the rare inflection of his voice touched me. "What is your idea of an earnest life?" " Something better than mere froth and foam, or selfish enjoyments; an existence in which one leaves enduring marks of having labored to benefit his kind, to strengthen the weary, comfort those who are tried and tempted, and point out a better path for them to walk in." "You have been reading German metaphysics, Miss Adriance." " Surely the strong angel of the useful loses none of his power when joined to the spirit of the beautiful." " Few care to unite them thus upon the bridge of life. The useful angel too often goes about clad in coarse rai- ment, and people instinctively shrink from him. Where will you begin with your mission ? " TRYING THE WORLD. 31 "I have not decided." " Like a woman ! People in the moon are generally benefited most by these visionary schemes." " I can commence with myself," I said, " since you seem to commiserate the people in that distant locality." "Ah, I thought you were through with yourself, and ready to undertake the salvation of others. You should have lived in the past centuries, when crusades were fash- ionable." " I am content to live now, but I shall try to live in earnest." " Be a sort of reformer, martyred on the cross of public opinion. You will gain some glory that way." "I am not ambitious of such glory," I said, indignantly. " Take up the sins and follies of society. There is a wide field. But I am afraid this wicked old world is bent upon rushing to destruction, in spite of sages and proph- ets." I was ready to cry with vexation. He stood there in the moonlight, looking really handsome, but cool and pro- voking; and I had a dim suspicion that in his heart he was laughing at me. " You'll improve on these romantic notions after a little," he said, gravely. " Young men and young women have a great fancy for fighting impossible giants. It's a kind of mental measles. But they get over it, and come to the stage where they are interested in each other, when the Lancers at night or a bouquet in the morning is sufficient to restore the balance of the most vacillating mind." " I shall endeavor to reach something higher than these trifles." "Miss Adriance, I have seen a good deal of the world, and have the advantage of you by more than a dozen years. I know what most women's lives are. A good deal 82 SYDNIE ADRIANCE, OR of dressing and display, some flirting, harmless, of course, for in society one plays a sort of give and take game, with the heart left out, and a good marriage at the last. That is the great stake; and failing there, your life will be pro- nounced unsuccessful." The girls used to talk of this at school ; I can't tell why, but it invariably annoyed me. And to have him take it up in such a cool, tantalizing manner ! " Marriage is not the great aim and end of all lives," I said, indignantly. " Isn't it ? Miss Adriance, I do begin to believe you were meant for a reformer. When a young woman haa sufficient courage to dare the terrors of going down to pos- terity as Miss somebody or other, she must be stronger than the majority of her sex. Let me see what will you clo? There's the Woman's Rights question. I have not sufficient brain to take in all its bearings; in fact, when I go over it, I invariably get muddled ; but I dare say you have given it a good deal of attention. Women, being tired of reasonable employments, have a desire to soar to the unreasonable, . They want to manage the business part, and generously propose that the sterner sex shall stay at home and enjoy themselves." " It is you who are unreasonable," I interrupted, angrily. "A man always exaggerates when he undertakes to ex- press a woman's opinions. Arc we blind and deaf to those higher calls of the soul ? When we are held in bondage to the false and unsubstantial, and see above us the gleam of truth, and purity, and loftiness, do you suppose no pulse is ever stirred, no desire awakened that leads us to struggle after the fine gold, instead of the base counterfeits the world offers us ? If it is right for a man to make his life grand and noble, why cannot a woman try at least ? " "Is truth at the bottom of these struggles ? I believe TRYING THE WORLD. 33 it is oftcner some paltry ambition. It jars against one's idea of a woman to see her so eager for contests that must render her harder, even if she escape the coarseness." "You dou't understand me," I said, trying to keep calm. He laughed again ; such a provoking, cynical, yet, withal, musical sound ! I believe I almost hated him. " You do not make yourself at all intelligible. Here you are with your head full of school-girl nonsense, ready to do battle for some great cause of which you are beautifully ignorant, and shall I make a prediction in six months you will be so deeply engrossed with pomps and vanities and a lover, that you will be quite willing to let the world jog on at its old rate. It has stood a good many such assaults, Miss Adriance." I lost all my patience, never very extensive, perhaps. I was not hoping for unattainable good, not trying to make a martyr of myself, but willing to take the world as I found it, having an even chance with others for happiness. I did not mean to kneel at the shrine of fashionable follies and make them my highest good. There was a better aliment for human souls. The contention grew warmer, he irritating me beyond endurance. All this under a sky of soft splendor, and at our feet the murmurous waves beating time to chants of melody, while the very air seemed blowing out waves of liquid light. The sense of harmony all around made me feel more indignant with him. I rose haughtily, and bade him good night. I had taken a step or two, when he said, softly, "Miss Adriance!" I stood irresolute, and then I am ashamed to confess it turned partially. His face had changed wonderfully, and I had the feeling of being drawn into some vortex. " Come, Miss Adriance," he said, " I am not going to let 3 34 STDNIE ADRIANCE, OB you leave me in such a mood. This is the first night of our acquaintance, and I want you to have pleasant dreams of me. Remain until you are good-humored." He had taken my hand, but I drew it away with an im- patient gesture, and left him. He had been barbarously unjust, and he would find that I was no child to be coaxed into agreeableness with a word. If I found his sister as captious and irritating, my life would not open very de- lightfully. I wished myself back at school, or anywhere, in fact, where I should not see him. I had acted un- wisely in allowing him to provoke me, but he might have had a little generosity, if our beliefs were dissimilar. "I never can like him," I said to myself as I fell asleep. The sun rose gloriously the next morning. I watched it through my little window, longing for a more extended view, and debating within myself upon the propriety of seeking it, when a waiter stopped at my door with Mr. St. John's card, on which was written, in pencil, "If Miss Adriance will come on deck, she will be amply repaid by the beautiful scene." Obeying my first impulse of resentment, I returned an answer, declining. It was a pitiful gratification, after all, for I was tormented with mere bits and fragments of glow- ing dawn. I had a passion for these changeful pictures of sea and sky. The tremulous rays of gold and crimson wandered fitfully through my little room, and the soft light brought visions of the greater glory beyond. The noise and commotion recalled me to common life. I felt awkward and nervous about meeting Mr. St. John, and wondered how he would get over our dispute of last night. I might have spared my speculations and the re- solves with which I fortified my mind. He was calm and gracious, totally ignoring all the disagreeable incidents that had passed between us. I absolutely became confused. TRYING THE WORLD. 35 Mrs. Lawrence was awaiting us at a hotel, and we drove thither. She was not up yet, so we both waited in her little parlor. Mr. St. John brought me a book and some papers, and occupied himself in reading. Well, the man certainly was a Sphinx ! After a while Mrs. Lawrence made her appearance. She was thirty-five, I afterwards learned, three years her broth- er's senior, but one would readily have believed her ten years younger. A remarkably beautiful woman, pure blonde in type, barely medium size, and gracefulness itself. To watch her was like listening to music. I felt ugly and overgrown beside her. M My dear Miss Adriance ! " and her voice had something of the peculiarity of her brother's a kind of liquid sweet- ness, that attracts one involuntarily. I could not help being won by the charm. She scanned me from head to foot, but I did not read disapproval in the languid, purple-blue eyes, so I ventured to breathe and to smile. " How bright and fresh you look," she said. "I can be- lieve that you heeded my injunction, Stuart," glancing at her brother, "and did not keep her up half the night watching the moon." "As that seems to be my pet employment, there was some danger." His voice was just dashed with irony, reminding me of the delicate flavor of bitter almonds. I colored at the remembrance of our evening's conversation, but returned, carelessly, " I believe I do not usually carry traces of such simple dissipation in my face." " It's folly to waste one's good looks when it amounts to nothing;" and she smiled in a charming fashion. "Now, if you please, we will have some breakfast, and then Miss 36 SYDNIE ADRIANCE, OR Adrinnce and I can afford to dismiss you, as we are going on a shopping expedition." There was a little, expressive curl to his lips, as his face settled into an indifference that made it positively cold. She was very gracious and entertaining, and I could not help feeling at home with her, indeed, could not help liking her; but I had a misgiving that there was the least spice of contempt in the approval Mr. St. John gave. When we returned to the parlor, he bade us " good morning," and sauntered out. "Now we will hold a little consultation," Mrs. Lawrence said, with a girlish interest and enthusiasm that was not affectation, although it seemed to border upon it. "I am going to take you to Newport, and I expect you to create quite a sensation." " Don't expect too much of me," I said, with a sudden fear. "My dear, you don't know your own power at all. How should you, indeed?. With your style and looks you ought to make a decided impression. Rest assured that I shall give you every advantage." " I do not question your generosity," I returned, " but my own " desire, I was about to say, then changed it to " ability." "You will feel different about that presently. Then you are quite an heiress, another item in your favor ; and when you do fairly take your place, and feel at home in it, you will like the triumphs. Only you must not full in love too soon." "I believe I am not very susceptible." She smiled approval. "The first thing will be to get yonr wardrobe in order," she continued. "I know you have* nothing available, so we will go out and supply our- selves. Your dresses will be made at home, under my own TRYING THE WORLD. 37 supervision. I have a maid who is worth fifty modistes. Are you ready to go now, or would you rather rest for an hour or two?" I signified my willingness, and we set out immediately. It was my first induction into the mysteries of fashion- able life, and I yielded to Mrs. Lawrence's suggestions the more readily in order that I might not betray my own ignorance. But I really wondered when and how I should find use for half the articles she purchased, and now and then gave a thought to my resolves of the evening before, comprehending that it would be more difficult to assimi- late the two lives than I had believed. And yet I could not help being interested. When a shopkeeper places be- fore you elegant goods in their most enticing light, how can you fail to admire? Mrs. Lawrence knew the routine well, and before night had spent what seemed to me a quarter of my fortune at least; but the shopping was done. Thirza, a quadroon maid, hardly less beautiful than her mistress, was busy all the evening packing, and the next morning we resumed our journey, stopping at night to rest, for Mrs. Lawrence had no idea of unduly fatiguing herself. Mr. St. John I hardly saw at all, but we felt his care and attention in many ways. Now and then I experienced the sensation of being watched by the cool eyes that I knew fathomed much more than they chose to reveal. From the station it was a long drive to the St. John mansion through broken woodlands where rugged old trees were moss-grown and festooned with brilliant wild vines, contrasting vividly with the silvery river flowing in and out, here widening to a lake, there a mere thread ; the deeper green of the forest bathed in a soft haze of sunshine, and mellowed by frequent breaks of light and shade. The air was fragrant with the spiciness of the dis- 38 SYDNIE ADRIANCE, OB tant pine woods, and occasionally some weird song, quite new to me, broke from the throat of an unseen warbler. It seemed like going into au enchanted country. The road became clearer presently, and. at a little distance I espied a great gray stone mansion, ivy covered, and ap- parently in the midst of the most picturesque confusion turfy glades, dreamy, mysterious nooks, clumps of shrub- bery, fountains trickling over miniature rocks, and flowers in the wildest profusion. The house was an old, quaint mixture of different styles of architecture, and had prob- ably been constructed at different periods. The front was broken by recesses and balconies and deep windows, and at one corner rose a turret, that added to the general effect. It was so cosy and roomy-looking, so really homelike, for all its strange beauty, that my heart gave a quick, involun- tary thrill. I leaned out of the carriage, eager to take in every aspect of loveliness. "You like it," Mr. St. John said, under his breath, and something in his voice startled me. " Like is a poor word ; " and I felt the warm color rising to my face. "And in six months you will weary of it." "No," I said, impulsively ; "I could never weary of it Why, I question if Paradise was more lovely ! " " And Eve was not content without the forbidden fruit. There's something unattainable to every life." I glanced furtively at his face; it had gloomed over with some unseen thought, and the eyes seemed weary and wistful. " Home ! " he said, as he sprang out lightly, and gave his hand to his sister. " Well," he continued, assisting me, " are we to be friends, Miss Adriance ? Have you forgiven me for ruth- lessly demolishing some of your airy fabrics "i " TRYING THE WORLD. 39 " I should be generous to my worst enemy now," I re- plied, softly. " Who could hold malice in this world of bewildering beauty?" I did not dare glance up again, for some strange spell seemed to shadow me. Was I really entering an enchant- er's realm ? 40 SYDNIE ADRIANCE, OB " Our aspirations, our soul's genuine life, Grow torpid iu the din of worldly strife." FAUST. THE interior at Laurelwood was not less charming than the scenes without. I was lost in a maze of beauty, fairly bewildered with spacious halls and stairs, niches out of which some graceful old-world goddess smiled, or bore her burden of fragrant flowers. A kind of tropical, sen- suous ease pervaded every spot. You heard the murmur of tho fountains, making a dim, lulling music, and were wooed insensibly to repose. I was shown to an elegant suit of rooms next to those of Mrs. Lawrence. The quaintly carved furniture, the light, delicate carpets, and the luxurious couches and chairs, gave me visions of delight. There was an aesthetic side to my nature certainly. And then I went back to my childhood, with its hardness and plainness, its long, solitary days. Was it really I who had a right to these lovely rooms; who was to be waited upon, and queen it as royally as I liked? For nothing would please Mrs. Lawrence better. Thirza came in to arrange my hair while her mistress was resting from the fatigue of her journey. "How mag- nificent ! " she said, as she took it down. It was handsome fine, soft, and abundant, a perfect midnight mass. "Miss Adriance has a little foreign blood," she con* turned. TRYING THE WORLD. 41 Spanish grand mother;" and I laughed. " It is in your figure and carriage as well. And your eyes show it." Some of the girls at school had envied me my eyes and complexion. They were both dark and wild, I thought. The deft fingers wove wonderful braids, and compacted them in strange devices. Then she broke off a spray of white jasmine, and twined it in and out. After that she took an inventory of my dresses, and decided upon white. Perhaps the contrast made it so becoming; at all events it was my favorite, "But there's no style to it," she said, disdainfully. "Up to this time I have been only a school-girl," I replied with a little smile. "There was not much need of style." u Look at yourself and see if I have not improved you." I turned to the full-length mirror. What wraith or vision met me! Tall, rather inclined to slenderness, but not thin ; drooping shoulders, the head proudly poised, the forehead low and broad, the features regular, but too im- mobile, I thought, and a soft, roseate flush warming up the clear, fine skin. I had not considered the subject greatly before, but I was glad to look as well, especially in a place like this where all the surroundings were ex- quisite. Some time afterwards Mrs. Lawrence entered, fresh from the hands of her maid. There was a strong contrast between us: she was so finished, so elegant, a perfect embodiment of grace. "How much you have been improved," she said, in a pleasant tone. "You need a little more brilliance and vivacity to your face, though under some circumstances that air of indifference would be superb." I flushed deeply, not with pride, but rather with a sense 42 SYDNIE ADRIANCE, OB of humiliation. I fancied that I should soon hate having every slight change in looks commented upon. "Society will soon give you the tone you need. I am determined upon having you a perfect success." "Do not count too confidently upon my charms," I said, slowly. "All persons may not judge me with your lenient eyes." She smiled, and nodded sagaciously. "I believe I know the world pretty well. You must not spoil your triumphs by any girlish gaucheries. I think I shall enjoy having a protegee amazingly, though at first I was quite unwilling that Mr. Anthon should leave you to our care. He always talked of you as a little girl, and I am not especially fond of children." Frank at least. Dainty, and sweet, and tender as she seemed, I felt that she had no warm, human heart. "What if I had been irredeemably ugly?" I asked. "You were not, so we will not trouble ourselves with suppositions," she returned, with charming amiability. " Truth to tell, plain people always offend a certain sense of mine." "But one cannot help it if one grows plain, or waa born so." "It is a great misfortune," and she shrugged her fair shoulders with infinite grace. The summons to dinner interrupted the conversation, and I was not sorry, for I found myself warming with the sort of injustice she displayed. Would I not have needed a home and friends under any circumstances ? Afterwards Mr. St. John asked me to walk through the grounds, and I was delighted to comply, for I had only taken tantalizing glimpses of them. "Don't keep her out too long in the night air," Mrs. Lawrence said, as we went down the broad steps. TRYING THE WORLD. 43 A peculiar expression passed over his face that tempted me to smile. How unlike they were this sister and brother. " One always pays the penalty for superior refinements," he said, in a low tone, and with a, touch of sarcasm. " I have not arrived at that stage where it is of moment- ous importance to me," I returned, laughingly. He made no reply, but seemed lost in contemplation of the gravelled walk. Then we turned into a winding path. The lovely night, with its great glowing stars and silvery moon, the air heavy with fragrance, filled my soul with a sense of unutterable beauty. Some tasteful hand had vied with nature here, and produced marvellous perfection. Dells that were so thickly wooded they seemed miniature forests, nooks with an old gray rock shaded by a border of shrubbery at the back, arid a tiny stream purling its way along or tumbling over some resistance and form- ing a cascade of pure spray, everywhere a variety : the grounds made to look much larger by this arrangement, and something to attract the eye continually. One wan- dered on and on. Presently Mr. St. John thawed a little, though Ins silence had not been at all uncomfortable. I don't know that I could have talked at first, for I was filled with the solemn awe a sense of affluent beauty always gives me. I want to be quiet, and take large draughts of measureless content. Once or twice he had glanced at me, and I felt that my mood had been perfectly understood. It is a comfort to be with people who do not insist upon your explaining every phase of feeling. lie spoke of the night first, and then called up some foreign remembrances. He had the faculty of making perfect pictures in description ; every subject was tinted and textured by a mind not only vivid, but refined and 44 SYDNIE ADRIANCE, OR discriminating. I listened like one under the spell of a charmer. I don't know how it came around at length, but in some manner Mr. Anthon's name was mentioned. I noticed how the voice that I had thought exquisitely modulated before softened to a peculiar pathos. They had been very dear friends it seemed, and after Mr. Authon's illness, com- menced, he had spent some time at Laurehvoud, I felt that he had interested Mr. St. John some way in my behalf. How kind and thoughtful he had always been for me! I liked Mr. St. John much better for this glimpse of tenderness. The man was not all cynicism or sarcasm then. In fact I began to reconsider my hasty judgment. Was it anything more than anger because he had teased me? We staid out quite late, in spite of Mrs. Lawrence's entreaty, but I think my bright eyes and glowing face disarmed her. She would have been inexpressibly shocked had she known that after Thirza was gone I left my bed and sat for a long- while by the open window. The glorious night tempted me, but I could not have slept. Everything was too new and unreal. This ease and luxury, these lovely sights and entrancing sounds, swayed me powerfully. I was almost afraid that, like Abou Hassan's palace, it might vanish presently, and I find in its stead some cold, gray reality. The next day I was in constant demand. Shawls, scarfs, bonnets, laces, and gloves were inspecU'd and duly tried, altered and arranged until they pleased Mrs. Law- rence's critical eye. Then the dresses! I confess I did begin to tire of the finery after a while. It was like being fed upon sweets until one is surfeited. TRYING THE WORLD. 45 I did try to feel grateful for the pains she was taking, and I found a curious interest in watching her. Always cool and unruffled, patient to the last degree ; quick- sightcd to discover the least flaw or imperfection. Had the woman no soul beyond this ? Mr. St. John was pretty closely occupied with some business, as the estate was large, and he gave it a very thorough supervision. Now and then he laughingly in- quired after the dresses ; and one morning sauntered into his sister's sitting-room, where I had ensconced myself in the deep rose-embowered window, and was lazily reading. " How cool and delightful,* 1 he said. " But are you not playing truant?" "From what?" and I glanced up, rather amused. "I supposed you would devote every moment to the work-room. What if your dresses are spoiled?" " They are in better hands than mine, _and do not al- together engross me." " I am afraid your education is incomplete. And essays too!" for he had taken up my book. " One needs something to preserve the mental equi- librium." "It should be a 'Mirror of Fashion,' or 'The Art of making one's self agreeable.'" " Because you consider me particularly disagreeable and antiquated ? " He colored. ' " I am anxious to have you succeed as well as possible." "What is to be the test of my success?" " Scores of lovers, and a rich husband, I suppose." "I am afraid I shall not meet your expectations," I re- turned, gravely. " If I should come to be considered an incumbrance at Laurelwood " Somehow I could not resist the temptation of saying it; 46 SYDNIE ADRIANCE, OR but I saw that I had angered him. One of those subtle flashes came into his eyes, and a white line about his mouth. He looked steadily at rne for an instant. " Pardon me," I said, in some confusion. " But you do vex me when you pretend to think that I have no higher aim in life than mere frivolity that I can be content with fine dresses and admiration, or that I look upon marriage as the only termination to be desired." " How you run over these things," he returned, with a curious inflection, " and you don't understand one of them. What girl ever did at eighteen ? " " Am I more ignorant than the generality of women ? " I asked, nervously. "More Utopian, perhaps, Miss Adriance; I am rather anxious to see you fairly launched in the world of fashion. You will find it very different from your fancies. And you will do just about as your neighbors." I took up my book again and opened it, but my pulses were racing along at an angry speed. How was it that he managed to vex me so easily ? "Miss Adriance," he said, presently, "you carry your feelings too much in your face. In time you will learn to wear a society mask, which you will find very con- venient." " I shall never wear a mask, or think it necessary to hide the truth, or any of my beliefs. I do suppose I can find people generous enough to make allowance for youth and inexperience. Human nature is not altogether unjust and faithless, or suspicious." "Nearly every one sets out with high hopes, Miss Adriance. The voyage looks fair at the commencement the sky is clear, the winds balmy, the shores bright with vivid pictures, and the siren, Hope, lulls you on and on with glowing visions. By and by the stream grows dull TRYING THE WORLD. 47 and muddy, the overladen barks go lumbering along in a dead wind, or get utterly becalmed. Then comes the trial of patience. One can work better than one can stagnate." u I shall find my life-work somewhere," I said, con- fidently. "But who finds what he wants?" He turned towards the opposite window with a weary face ; indeed it was almost moody. What had come to his life? for he seemed to have all of this world's good gifts, and yet I could not help feeling that he was not as happy as Mrs. Lawrence, though her mind was continually occu- pied with trifles. He had missed something, and yet he seemed to me a strong, self-ceutred man, not easily touched by passing events. Shortly after this we were surprised by a visitor, or rather I was, for Mrs. Lawrence did not mean to introduce me to her ordinary callers until after our return. But Thirza announced to me that Mr. Graham was in the drawing-room, and would remain all night. " I am glad enough," she said. " It must be lonesome for you, this being secluded like a nun." I had experienced no special want in that direction. In fact I had not half examined the place yet. Mr. Graham was two or three and twenty, with stray remnants of boyish beauty that had not yet settled into maturity. He had a soft, pleasant voice, and a certain enthusiasm that made him an interesting companion. He was taking the world in quite a different manner from M* St. John, though the latter made an admirable host. There is an unconscious affinity between the young. I strayed through the grounds with Mr. Graham, talking of everything that came in our way, in that pleasant, chatty fashion bordering upon friendship. I felt at home with his 48 STDNIE ADKTAXCE, OK genial mood ; anc though the subjects might not have been wise or profound, we went over them very agreeably. Later in the evening he asked me for some music. Mrs. Lawrence had listened to my playing and singing with due regard for what it would do for me in society. But it was a passion with me, and when I found that I could kindle another soul, it gave me a sudden inspiration. I saw his eyes dilate with pleasure, and a fitful color wandered over his face. How strangely those pathetic old ballads stir one's heart I love, sweet for all its pain, tempting in spite of thorny ways ; men and women content at having drained the cup of Miss, and asking no more of life. Had we fallen upon more material days and desires? I felt glad and happy that night why, I could not tell. When Mr. Graham )cft us the next morning, it seemed as if some brightness had gone out of the place. I stood on the balcony, gathering up stray threads of memory, when Mr. St. John approached, having been to the gates with his guest. "Yon deserve to be congratulated," he said; and although I understood the tone, I returned, simply, "For what?" " Upon your conquest. But to save a broken heart, I will tell yon that Mr. Graham is engaged to his cousin a kind of convenient family arrangement, I believe, she being an heiress." " I do not think that fact would weigh a particle with Mr. Graham," I said as earnestly as I felt. " O, yon have unlimited faith." "And yonrwarning was altogether unnecessary," I re- torted, scornfully. "It was merely pastime upon both sides, then ! "Well, yon acquitted yourself admirably. You will not have much to learn at Newport." TRYING THE WORLD. 49 tt I believe I did only what common courtesy required," I said, haughtily. "A woman's excuse for trifling." " It is well there are some whose fine perception enables them to distinguish between ordinary politeness and the gratification of a foolish vanity. While there are such cool, clear-eyed people in the world, we need not fear for society." "Undoubtedly;" and his voice was irritatingly sweet. " Neither may we apprehend any Quixotic reform when the prophets of the new faith are diverted by a word or a look from some fanciful sentimentalist." If I could have annihilated him with a glance, I should have done so : and he looking calm and handsome, w r ith that bafHing smile playing about his face. "You ridicule my high aims, and if I find any satis- faction in ordinary pleasures, you sneer. What is your ideal?" "And you are a fiery radical," he said, ignoring my question. " I wonder " a little lower, as if he was think- ing to himself "if you mean to play with hearts in that fashion ? " " Will it do any harm ? Are men so sensitive and deli- cate?" " O, no," he said, dryly. " It may go hard with some of them at first, but they soon get used to the wjyrfare. It does damage faith a little, but those old-fashiolrcd virtues are at a discount in modern life." " I think you wrong us all," I said, more hurt than I cared to show. " If we wound any one, it is because we have first been pained ourselves." Mrs. Lawrence crossed the hall, and I took shelter under her kindly wing. She put her slender white hand over my shoulder, and presently we walked away together. 4 SO SYDNIE ADRIANCE, OR " "Whnt was Stuart saying? " she asked ; but I could see it was not from any curiosity. "You must not mind his queer notions; he lias always been odd. I think it was living here so much alone, and the St. Johns are peculiar people. I married very young, and went away ; and have only been back since the death of Mr. Lawrence, which occurred a few years ago." I was silent. "My dear," she continued, in her soft, musical tones, "you really surprised me by your self-possession. You will be a very fascinating woman, only you must not ruin your success by falling in love immediately." "Why? In what manner would it interfere?" and I smiled. "O, it breaks up the general interest. When a girl be- comes engaged, the real strife for her is over, and she is soon superseded by newer attractions. You need not marry for a year or so. I think I can make it very pleas- ant for you; and I confess to liking you a great deal. Butt came near forgetting my chief errand: Thiiza wants you." Afterwards I went to my own room. How lovely it looked, and how really delightful life was! Somehow I cannot help enjoying it. Is it worth while to strive against the current? Surely youth and pleasure go hand in hand, and one may find elements of truth and beauty in any existence. Why, then, torture one's self with a scourging sense of duty in continually grasping at the unattainable ? Could I not take the richness of life without stooping to its dross? I think Mr. St. John must dislike me. He is very kind to his sister listens to her plans without making one objection ; does many things for her pleasure, and never sneers or shows the bitter side of his nature: for he is bitter and stern, a strong, masterful man, and yet his very power attracts. TRYING THE WORLD. 51 I wonder if I am unstable. Sometimes I feel afraid of myself. After all, how much can one help or hinder! If I only had a patient, trusty friend that I could go to in these weak moments ! But I should as soon think of confiding in this marble Clytie as Mrs. Lawrence. Both are sweet, but cold. 52 SYDNIE ADRIANCE, OB CHAPTER IV. " Well, well, But you must cultivate yourself; it will pay you. Study a dimple, work hard at a smile; The things most delicate require most pains." FESTUS. WE were in perfect order at last, and started on our campaign. To say that I was not interested, would be untrue. There was a fascination about seeing the world in this guise. Several of the girls at school had counted largely on a season at Newport or Saratoga, while I held my peace, knowing nothing of my future. Mr. St. John had engaged a suit of rooms, so all we had to do was to enter in and take possession. While Thirza unpacked, and Mrs. Lawrence indulged in a rest on the sofa, I sat by the window enjoying the changeful scene below, that looked to my unpractised eye like irremediable confusion, and yet it attracted me wonderfully. I was to join this gay throng, and take my share of pleasure. We did not go down to the parlors until evening. Mrs. Lawrence looked exquisitely lovely, and I fancied almost as youthful as I. Thirza had not over-dressed me, and I felt quite at home in my new attire. But the scene ren- dered me nearly breathless with surprise. Elegant wo- men, stately and well-bred men, grouped together, talking, smiling, and posing themselves with the rare grace of statuary. What a brilliant picture it made ! In ten minutes Mrs. Lawrence and her brother were surrounded by a throng of old friends, and warmly wel- TRYING THE WORLD. 53 corned. I responded to introductions that I felt sure I should never remember, and was rather confused, I am afraid. Mr. St. John was so kind that I almost wanted to express my gratitude. lie answered questions for me, and warded off anything like awkwardness, until I began to talk quite naturally. Presently the circle widened a little. I was standing by an open window, when I felt my arm clasped, and a familiar voice exclaimed, scarcely above a whisper, "In the name of all that's remarkable for wonders, how did you come here, Sydnie Adriance?" I turned and found a school friend, Laura Hastings. "Are you speechless?" she continued, laughingly. "Or are you out on a masquerade, where confessing one's identity breaks the charm, and resolves you back into a Cinderella ? " " Neither. Silent from surprise only." "Didn't I tell you that I expected to make my debut in the world of fashion ? How happens it that you were not equally communicative?" " Because I had no idea what my destiny would be." "Let us walk up and down this piazza, for I want to catechise you. In the first place, when did you arrive?" " This morning." Laura Hastings was an odd, vivacious girl, who always seemed to carry everything her own way. We had been very good friends, without the slightest spark of affection. She occasionally ridiculed me, and I retorted by pro- nouncing her heartless. "Who brought vou here?" she went on. O / "My guardian, Mr. St. John, and his sister, Mrs. Law- rence." " Pretty well, so far. What kind of a woman is Mrs. Lawrence ? Young, rich, and handsome ? " 54 SYDNIE ADRIANCE, OR "All three." " The gods are unjust to bestow so much upon one person. Do you aspire to belleship, Miss Adriance?" I laughed at her piquant manner, and said, " I have no such ambition." "Then you are not as sensible as I supposed. With your face and style I would have half Newport in love with me, and the other half dying with envy." " That would not be a very high gratification." "Don't be saintish and nonsensical! You should have left all that at school. However, if you are generous, I may stand a better chance. I've been here only a week, and had an offer already, besides strongly interesting a New York millionnaire but he is old enough to be my father." " You refused the offer ? " " Of course. He was a young artist, my cousin Carrie's bright particular. She put on airs, and went to a stupid little country place, but he seemed to have a fancy for hovering in the flame. He was only singed a little, and will go back to her with more devotion than ever, so no one was hurt. I believe I rather tempted him to come here." " O, Laura ! Why, when you did not mean to many him?" " To tease Came a little. She has an idea that good- ness is all the capital one needs in this world. It is a poor investment, to my thinking." " But truth, and honor, and generosity ought to meet with some recognition," I said, warmly. " You cling to your first love pertinaciously, I see. A month at Newport will convert you to the true faith. Plain women may carry about a list of virtues as long as their sober faces, but the handsome ones all believe alike. TRYING THE WORLD. 55 And yon are rather magnificent. You've had some help, for I know you never possessed all these ideas of your own." I flushed a little and was silent, for we paused at one of the windows. She gave a quick glance around and eaid, " Can you see your Mrs. Lawrence ? I'm wild to know what vsort of