m
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 OR, 
 
 REVELATIONS 
 
 OF 
 
 A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 
 
 FOURTH THOUSAND. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 PUBLISHED BY JOHN P. JEWETT & CO. 
 
 CLEVELAND, OHIO: JEWETT, PROCTOR & WORTHINGTON. 
 
 NEW YORK: SHELDON, LAMPORT & BLAKEMAN. 
 
 LONDON: TRUBNER & CO. 
 
 1855.
 
 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1855, by 
 
 JOHN P. JEWETT & CO. 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts, 
 
 ANDOVEK: w. F. DRAPER, 
 
 STEREOTYPER AND PRINTER.
 
 /OS? 
 
 3 ffr 
 
 TO 
 
 DOCTOR JOHN JEFFRIES, 
 
 MY HIGHLY ESTEEMED PHYSICIAN, 
 THIS VOLUME IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED, 
 
 IN GRATEFUL REMEMBRANCE OF HIS PROFESSIONAL SERVICES, 
 
 BUT WITHOUT HIS CONSENT, 
 
 FROM A DESIRE OF THE AUTHOR 
 
 TO REMAIN STRICTLY 
 
 INCOGNITO.
 
 COEA AND THE DOCTOE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " Dear Mother between friend and friend, 
 Prose answers every common end ; 
 Serves in a plain and homely way, 
 To express the occurrence of the day, 
 Our health, the weather, and the news, 
 What walks we tak( , what books we choose, 
 And all the floating thoughts we find 
 Upon the surface of the mind." SOUTIIEY'S COWPER. 
 
 Ship Castor and Pollux, off Staten Island, 9 o'clock, Monday 
 morning, June 1st, 1835. 
 
 DEAREST MOTHER, We are fast nearing land. The pilot is al 
 ready on board ; and I shall soon set my foot upon the new world 
 which is henceforth to be my home. 
 
 In fulfilment of my promise, I begin thus e'arly my journal of 
 daily events, which I shall transmit to you from time to time as 
 opportunity shall offer. 
 
 A torrent of emotion rushes through my mind, pleasure min 
 gled with pain pleasure at the prospect of the happiness, I may 
 reasonably expect in the society of a beloved husband and pain 
 at the thought of the long time which will probably intervene 
 before I shall see the loved members of our home-circle, and also 
 from the assurance that when I set my foot upon the shores of the 
 Western continent, the broad Atlantic will roll between us. 
 
 But I must turn from these sad musings to the scene around me. 
 The passengers are all wide awake ; Some are hurrying to and 
 
 1*
 
 6 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 fro in search of baggage, while others, having succeeded in getting 
 their trunks brought on deck, are sitting upon them and awaiting 
 their search by the Custom House officers. But by far the 
 greater part are standing in groups, leaning over the railing of the 
 ship, eagerly gazing at the shore, talking earnestly of friends whom 
 they expect to meet, or expressing curiosity at the sight of America, 
 the birth place of the immortal WASHINGTON. 
 
 My dear Frank pointed out to me the harbor with the skiffs 
 flying in every direction the forest of masts with their national 
 flags the lofty spires pointing heaven-ward and the stately 
 domes looming up to view, while directly before us are the 
 wharves lined with extensive ware-rooms and store-houses. But 
 I must close the first page in my journal. 
 
 Crawford, Tuesday, June 2d. 
 
 We reached New York in season for dinner at the Astor House, 
 and for the evening boat to Providence, from which place we took 
 the stage-coach for Crawford ; and arrived here about noon. At 
 the public house, which I should judge was a mile distant, we 
 alighted ; and I saw a broad-shouldered, well-dressed colored man 
 come eagerly forward and seize the Doctor by the hand, while he 
 cast a glance of curiosity at me. 
 
 " This is your young Mistress, Caesar," said Frank. 
 
 Caesar took off his hat, bowing and scraping in the most approv 
 ed style ; and when I gave him my hand, he exhibited a splendid 
 set of ivory, extending almost from ear to ear. 
 
 My husband went with me into the public house, where I re 
 mained until he and Cnesar had attended to the baggage. I spent 
 the interim in picturing to myself a rural cottage with a luxuriant 
 vine running over the door. This same vine had always figured 
 largely in my imaginary home, but my fancy had not advanced to 
 the interior, when Frank came to call me. 
 
 I cannot account for the impression I had formed, that the 
 Doctor was not a man of wealth ; I had even pleased myself vastly
 
 OR, KEVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 7 
 
 with plans of industry, prudence and economy, by which I intend 
 ed to provide necessaries and even luxuries for the family. The 
 Doctor had carefully avoided all description of our future home, 
 answering me only by smiles, if I ventured to point out a pretty 
 cottage, and to ask whether it resembled ours. 
 
 During the drive, Caesar was eager to tell all the news. He 
 said, " I'se driven de carriage down to meet Mass'r Frank ebery 
 time de stage hab come in for two days. I told Missus," he con 
 tinued, '' better go ebery day for a month, than have young Missus 
 come, and nobody pear dere to welcome her to dis yer home." 
 
 Frank laughed heartily as he said, " Your young Mistress will 
 be obliged to you for sustaining the honor of the family." 
 
 I was so much interested in looking about me, and in listening 
 to Cresar's talk with his master, that I had no time to reconcile 
 the idea of a handsome carriage, span of horses, and colored driver 
 with my husband's supposed circumstances a train of thought 
 which had been started before I left the Inn. But now we were 
 drawing near my new home ; and my heart began to beat very 
 fast. I put my hand into Frank's, who pressed it tightly in his. 
 
 I was about to go through a very trying scene, to meet a mother 
 and sister, while yet a perfect stranger to them. I feared they 
 would deem me unworthy of their son and brother. My color 
 came and w r ent, if I can judge from the burning of my cheeks. 
 It was with great difficulty, I could keep from weeping. I am 
 sure Frank understood my feelings, for he very gently kissed my 
 forehead, and whispered, " Cora, you will love my mother, and I 
 am very* sure she will love you." 
 
 I forced back my tears, and tried to show him that I meant to 
 deserve their love. I gave such a start of surprise, when the 
 carriage stopped at the door of a noble mansion that Frank laugh 
 ing asked, " What?" 
 
 " Surely, this is not your house," said I. 
 
 " It is our house," he replied in a low tone, as he handed me 
 from the carriage. I had hardly reached the ground, before I was
 
 8 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 caught in the arms of one of the loveliest girls I ever saw. She 
 kissed me repeatedly ; and then sprang to her brother, saying, 
 " now, Frank, that's just like you, not to tell us what a darling she 
 was!" 
 
 By this time we had ascended the steps leading from the front 
 entrance, where stood a fine looking woman, (of course she is, for 
 Frank is the image of her), who folded her arms about her new 
 daughter with such a motherly embrace that my heart was at rest. 
 The tears filled my eyes at the melting tone in which she said, as 
 she held our hands joined in hers ; " Welcome, my dear son and 
 daughter ! " as if she would fain have blessed our union. She 
 evidently restrained her feelings, and taking my hand under her 
 arm, led me into a large parlor, where there had been a fire on the 
 hearth. 
 
 " "We hardly expected you to-day," she said, after we were 
 seated ; " but Emily would not rest until we came over here from 
 the cottage." 
 
 " Don't you reside here ? " I asked in surprise. 
 
 Mrs. Lenox smiled, and looked at her son, who said pleasantly, 
 " You see, mother, there is very little of Eve about her." 
 
 " More than you imagine," I replied ; "but I was constrained to 
 suppress my curiosity, as I received such indefinite replies to my 
 questions." 
 
 " After to-morrow," added he, " I will answer as many as you 
 please ; till then I see one who is ready to answer before she is 
 asked." 
 
 Just then, Emily had stolen beside me, and putting her arm 
 around my waist said, " Come with me, if you are not too tired ; 
 and I will show you your room." 
 
 I went with her ; and, my dear mother, I ought to be very 
 happy, and grateful to God for casting my lot in such a pleasant 
 place, and among such kind friends. As soon as we were alone, 
 Emily again embraced me, and said, " I shall love Frank better 
 than ever, for bringing me so dear a sister ; now he will be con-
 
 OK, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN 3 WIPE. & 
 
 tented to remain at home, instead of roving all over creation." 
 She spoke of her brother with great affection, and said with 
 enthusiasm, " Everybody loves Frank ! " 
 
 She then pointed out one thing after another, each dear to me 
 as an expression of his love, and his desire to render me happy 
 in my new home. To-morrow I hope to give you a description 
 of the house and grounds, over which, after dinner, I was duly 
 installed mistress. 
 
 I have written a long time ; but my heart is full, and I find it 
 a relief to tell you how kind my Heavenly Father has been to 
 me.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 " Here blend the ties that strengthen 
 
 Our hearts in hours of grief, 
 The silver links that lengthen 
 Joy's visits when most brief." BERNARD BARTON. 
 
 Wednesday, June 3d. 
 
 DEAR MOTHER, I have just returned from a pleasant drive 
 with Mother, Frank and Emily. You will wonder that I can so 
 soon address any other but yourself by that endearing word, mother ; 
 indeed it cost me an effort. But this morning, she came in soon 
 after breakfast, and when I said, joyfully, " good morning, Mrs. 
 Lenox," she kissed me tenderly and said, " can you give me no 
 dearer name, my child ? " I looked up in her face, and felt that 
 I could call her " mother." I wish, I could describe to you the 
 impression, she makes upon me. She is very gentle and tender in 
 her manner, particularly so to her only son. She is also cheerful ; 
 but I think she must have known what sorrow is, heart-felt, 
 abiding sorrow. Though the expression of her countenance is 
 placid and touchingly sweet, yet, as I watched her yesterday, 1 
 could see her eyes fill with tears as she looked at Frank. 
 
 I never saw a son more affectionate and respectful to his 
 mother. There is a perfect understanding between them. It 
 was his earnest wish to have her and his sister live with him, as 
 the house is very large ; but she thought it not best. The prop 
 erty was left him by his father, and he has put up for her a 
 beautiful English cottage, separated from his dwelling only by the 
 garden, while the carriage drive passes from one to the other. 
 
 I promised you a description of my new home. Imagine
 
 REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 11 
 
 yourself entering from the street an avenue lined with trees, 
 (linden I think) and winding for about twenty or thirty rods up 
 to a stately mansion. From the carriage drive, you ascend ten 
 or twelve steps to the front entrance, over which is a very fine 
 portico supported by large pillars which are completely covered 
 with a running-rose vine. Entering the outer door, you stand in 
 a spacious hall, which runs directly through the house and opens 
 in the rear upon a piazza extending the entire length of the 
 building. From this piazza there is a most enchanting prospect. 
 Blue mountains skirt the horizon, while a beautiful lake nestles in 
 their bosom. 
 
 There are four large rooms on the ground floor, two parlors in 
 front, a dining-room and a sitting room in the rear. In addition 
 to these there are wings on each side of the house. One is 
 entered from the sitting-room, and is devoted to Frank's library 
 and cabinet ; the other enters from the dining-room and is occu 
 pied by Mistress Phebe Lenox in her culinary department. 
 
 In the second story there are five chambers, together with two 
 in the attic. Ca3sar has a neat room finished off over the carriage 
 house, which he and Phebe appropriate to themselves. 
 
 The fifth room on the second floor I shall not forget to de 
 scribe. It is over the rear hall, opening from our room ; and my 
 kind husband has fitted it up as my boudoir. I can't conceive 
 how he knew so exactly what I should like. Emily says he 
 selected everything himself, and that it has been a subject of 
 mirth for her that he should know the minutiae of a lady's toilet. 
 There is one large French window which opens like a door upon 
 the balcony over the piazza. Rose-colored curtains are draped 
 from it, so that I can be secluded at pleasure. Before the window 
 stands an elegant easy-chair, large enough for both of us, and near 
 it a table holding a desk, with every convenience for writing. At 
 this I am now sitting, and I prophesy it will be a favorite resort. 
 
 Two-thirds of the length of the room opposite the window is
 
 12 CORA AND THE DOCTOR ; 
 
 occupied by a wardrobe of j;he most convenient kind, containing 
 fixtures for hanging dresses, also shelves and drawers. 
 
 Opposite the door leading from my room, is a dressing table 
 standing before a long mirror. This table is furnished with 
 everything which even a French lady can wish in the making of 
 her toilet, and is equally tasteful and convenient. 
 
 In the corner beyond the wardrobe, stands a beautiful pit 
 Italian statuary, representing a young girl bearing a baskt. 
 fruit. She has such a touching expression upon her Jovel} 
 countenance that I can hardly persuade myself she is not im 
 ploring my sympathy. 
 
 I have described my own little boudoir more particularly than 
 any other apartment, that you may be able to think of me where 
 I shall spend most of my time. 
 
 He#e I may court the muses. Indeed, I feel more than half 
 inspired already, by the magnificent landscape before me. 
 
 Afternoon. 
 
 I did 'nt quite understand, yesterday, what Frank meant 
 about answering my questions to-day ; but while I was busily 
 writing this morning, I heard a gentle knock at the door. I 
 sprang up and opened it for my husband. 
 
 He smiled when he saw how I was engaged, and wheeling the 
 chair from the table to the window, sat down and took me on his 
 knee. 
 
 " "Well, Cora, how do you like your new home? Phebe has 
 just expressed her opinion that ' you '11 be wonted soon.' " 
 
 "Oh, it's beautiful!" I exclaimed, "why didn't you tell me, 
 that I might have the pleasure of anticipating these beauties ? " 
 
 " I could not be quite sure what fancies floated in your mind, 
 and I had rather surprise than disappoint you." 
 
 " Oh, Frank, you surely know me better than that ! but look 
 there," said I, pointing to the beautiful lake before us. We
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 13 
 
 looked in silence for a moment, when he laughed, and inquired if 
 I had no questions to ask him. " I am ready," said he, " to un 
 dergo a regular catechising." 
 
 In an instant all my former fancies of my husband's poverty, 
 and of my assisting him darted through my mind. I suppose, I 
 looked rather sober, for he turned my face toward him with a 
 questioning look. 
 
 " I imagined, you were poor," said I, hesitatingly. 
 
 Oh, what a merry peal of laughter rang through the room ! It 
 was a minute or more before he could recover himself, while I 
 did n't know whether to laugh or cry. But laughing is contagious, 
 and soon the absurdity of crying because I had the best husband 
 in the world, and with him everything that heart could desire, 
 caused me to join cordially with him. 
 
 However, he soon took both my hands in his, in a manner 
 peculiar to him when he has anything special to say, and resumed, 
 " It is high time, my love, you should know who you are" I will 
 give you the substance of his story. 
 
 His father was a man of independent fortune, who died about 
 eight years ago, soon after Frank reached his majority, and a few 
 months subsequent to his graduation from college. Frank had 
 always desired to be a physician, though his father arid mother 
 had hoped he would become a minister. The property "was by 
 will equally divided among the three, his mother, sister and him- 
 gelf. 
 
 Five of the years Since his father's death he has spent in 
 Europe, studying his profession, and travelling. During this 
 time he returned twice to see his mother, and to direct about the 
 estate. After this he passed eighteen months in one of the 
 southern cities, practising medicine. Then determining to go 
 abroad again, he passed the winter in Paris, where you remember, 
 I first met him. 
 
 " I hardly know," said he, " where I should have been now, 
 if you had said nay to one question, I asked. But I thank God 
 
 2
 
 14 tfORA AHD THE DOCTOR; 
 
 for giving me my sweet wife." This, lie said so seriously that I 
 hid my face in his bosom to conceal my tears. 
 
 Then in a few words he delineated the person and character of 
 his father, who was a very godly man, distinguished throughout 
 the country for sound judgment, patriotism and benevolence. 
 Frank described the heart-rending affliction of his mother, the 
 asperities of which time had somewhat softened. She is but 
 forty-eight years of age, though I had supposed her much older. 
 She has received frequent proposals for a second marriage ; but 
 never for a moment could think of entering the matrimonial state, 
 while her heart was so full of precious recollections of her de 
 ceased husband. 
 
 The Doctor looked quite serious, as he always does when his 
 countenance is not lighted with a smile. But I diverted his 
 thoughts with the request, " tell me about Emily." 
 
 " She is in temperament like my father," he replied, " full of 
 life and spirit ; ever ready to weep with those that weep, and to 
 rejoice with those that rejoice ; she is just one month older than 
 you, Cora ; time will prove," he added pleasantly, as he smoothed 
 back my hair, " which is the wiser." 
 
 Thursday, June 4ih. 
 
 This morning, invitations have been sent to friends of the 
 family for a levee at mother's cottage, in honor of the bride. 
 Frank says my associates in town will be likely to be of a very 
 promiscuous character. To-morrow evening I am to be introduced 
 to the aristocracy, and afterwards to my husband's poor patients, 
 of whom Emily affirms there are no inconsiderable number. 
 
 This is a shire town, and a court is in session here, which 
 brings many distinguished members of the legal profession to the 
 place. I am told it contains from eight to ten thousand inhabitants. 
 I have seen some very beautiful country seats ; and I should think 
 it well laid out. 
 
 There is a principal street running through the centre, lined
 
 OK, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WtFE. 15 
 
 with houses. Upon it private dwellings are interspersed with 
 shops, stores, ware-rooms, and other places of business. The 
 main street is very wide, and at this season looks finely, with its 
 splendid rows of shade trees. 
 
 Within a few years many persons have left their residences in 
 Broad Street, and have built cottages and villas on the forest 
 heights overlooking the village and the surrounding country. 
 
 The Doctor was summoned this morning to a sick woman. 
 This is his first professional call since his return ; but now I 
 must be reconciled to his leaving me often, as he has a very 
 large practice. 
 
 There are more than half a score of regular practitioners in the 
 place, all of whom are invited to mother's levee. Oh, if my 
 friends from home could be there ! I find writing a very poor 
 substitute for talking with you. With what delight shall I read 
 your letters. Isabel and Nelly must write about everything, as 
 they promised. Beloved home, parents and sisters, how my heart 
 longs for one more look, one fond embrace. 
 
 Friday, June 5th. 
 
 MY services have been put in requisition at the cottage, or 
 rather my advice (don't laugh, Bell!) has been requested with re 
 gard to the arrangements for the table, fruits and flowers. Emily 
 says, I know everything, or ought to, as I was educated in France. 
 
 I told her, all I knew was heartily at her service ; and straight 
 way the lively girl pulled off my bonnet and gloves, and set me 
 to work, making bouquets for the table. 
 
 After this, we entered right merrily into the preparations for 
 the evening, while mother was busily engaged with the cook. We 
 had all things arranged to our minds, and had resolved ourselves 
 into a tasting committee of the various luxuries for the entertain 
 ment, when Frank came in and took me home with him. 
 
 I had been deliberating about my toilet for the occasion, when
 
 16 CORA AND THE DOCTOR. 
 
 he presented me an exquisite bouquet of white flowers, together 
 with some beautiful white moss-rose buds for my hair. I fairly 
 clapped my hands with delight, they reminded me so much of 
 home. I could say nothing in reply but " dear Frank 1 "
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 " If ye court society for pastime, what happier recreation than a nurseling. 
 Its winning ways, its prattling tongue, its innocence and mirth." TUITER. 
 
 Saturday, June Ql/i. 
 
 On ! Mother, if you could sit by me for an hour it would be so 
 delightful, for I have much to tell you, and my pen will not move 
 fast enough. But I will begin my story. I dressed in due time. 
 The girls will be pleased to know that I wore my white lisse crape, 
 with no ornaments but the flowers in my hair, and a small bunch 
 in my bodice. When I descended to the parlor, Frank was 
 awaiting me, and his eyes expressed satisfaction with my 
 toilet. 
 
 "We repaired to the cottage early, by mother's request. Soon 
 after carnages began to roll up to the door. I Avas presented first 
 to the clergyman, Mr. Munroe, who has been settled in Crawford 
 but a short time. He is very free and social in manner, dignified 
 and graceful in person ; I think he will prove an agreeable friend. 
 Mother says, he loves the work in which he is engaged. 
 
 There was also a younger minister present, from an adjoining 
 parish, about whom I must make some farther inquiries. He was 
 quite too devoted irt his attentions to my fair sister Emily ; and 
 when I asked of her an explanation, a blush was her only reply. 
 
 I cannot begin to describe one half the persons who were 
 present, but I will mention a few, who, from different causes, in 
 terested me. 
 
 A tall portly man, hardly a gentleman, with a self-important air, 
 a very large pattern to his vest, with heavy chains and seals, 
 
 2*
 
 18 CORA AND THE DOCTOR} 
 
 which he dangled incessantly, addressed me in a patronizing man 
 ner. He asked me how I liked " living among Yankees," and 
 said I must come round to his place before I made up my mind 
 about it. He then bowed himself away. Emily said, in a low 
 voice, " that is our nabob, Squire Lee." 
 
 Next came an elderly gentleman, who, in figure and conversa 
 tion, formed a striking contrast to the one who preceded him. 
 This was Mr. Marshall, a distinguished attorney. He was ac 
 companied by his wife, a very handsome lady considerably younger 
 than her husband. They both expressed much kind interest in 
 the young stranger. 
 
 Then came a lovely young lady with her brother, children of 
 Squire Lee, the distiller. The young man seemed cast in the 
 same mould as his father. He was dressed in the height of 
 fashion, but without taste, with a flaunting neck tie, a gayly 
 embroidered vest, and full pantaloons. He was rather below 
 the medium height, but of very full habit. His face was flushed, 
 and when he bowed the blood rushed violently to his head, render 
 ing his face red as crimson. But his air was so consequential, and 
 his talk in a style so pompous and imposing, I could scarcely 
 suppress my mirth. This was the more noticeable by the contrast of 
 his whole appearance with his sister, a very modest, amiable look 
 ing girl, who evidently feared lest her brother, in his desire to 
 impress me with his dignity, should disgrace both himself and 
 her. 
 
 After these, came the Mansfields, the Harrisses, Justice Wilson 
 and family, the Johnsons, Mr. Willard, Dr. Clapp, Mr. and Mrs. 
 Morris Whitney, and a great many whom I cannot remember. 
 
 When this procession had passed with a word of salutation 
 from each, with now a bow, and then a smile, Mrs. Marshall in 
 troduced to me a lady whose countenance I shall never forget. 
 I should think her near fifty years of age, not handsome, but with 
 a kind expression, full of mildness and benevolence. Frank ad 
 dressed her very cordially, saying to me, " Miss Proctor is my
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 19 
 
 particular friend." I gave her my hand again, and asked a share 
 in her friendship. She was evidently much pleased, and pressed 
 my hand at parting. 
 
 Near the close of the evening, I met Mr. and Mrs. Russell, a 
 very delightful couple. His manner reminded me of Frank's; 
 dignified and rather reserved, yet easy and graceful in conversa 
 tion. His wife, on the contrary, was full of life and spirits, orig 
 inal and witty. 
 
 While we were in the refreshment room, I overheard several 
 persons, talking about a woman lately deceased in the village. 
 She was a French woman, and by her death her child was left 
 without protection, I became quite interested for the poor found 
 ling, and was glad to learn that Miss Proctor was to pass the 
 night, in the hope of being able with mother, to provide for the 
 little orphan. 
 
 It was quite late ; but Frank stopped at my request (o hear 
 more of her history. On Tuesday of this week, the day of our 
 arrival, the French woman called at the public house, saying, in 
 broken English, that she was ill and wished for a bed. The 
 landlady attended her, and soon found it necessary to summon a 
 physician. She grew rapidly worse and died the next evening. 
 She had informed the landlady that the child was not hers, but 
 entrusted to her care by its mother, to be conveyed from France 
 to England. The vessel in which they sailed was wrecked. But 
 they, with a few other passengers and some of the crew, were 
 taken on board an American vessel and brought to New York. 
 Beyond this nothing is known. 
 
 I have quite an idea of adopting the foundling if Frank will 
 consent. 
 
 Evening. 
 
 Dear, DEAR MOTHER. On my way to see the little French 
 girl, I told Frank it would please me to take the orphan. He 
 smiled as he replied, " I shall certainly make no objection." 
 
 I expected to see a poor, disconsolate child, weeping for its
 
 20 OORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 mother. Judge then of my astonishment, and delight, when I 
 found a perfect little fairy. She is a brilliant brunette, with 
 magnificent eyes, fringed with long black lashes, which rested on 
 her cheek as she looked timidly down when I entered. I was so 
 impressed with her appearance that I instinctively held out my 
 arms, and said " viens a moi, ma chere ! " 
 
 The blood rushed to her face, as with a bound she sprajig to 
 ward me, and laying her curly head on. my breast, said, " ma chcre 
 maman,je faime beau coup, beau coup." 
 
 This decided mej and I adopted her in my heart. Frank was 
 desirous to ascertain all that was known about my little protege. 
 Mrs. Morrison, the landlady, left me holding " Ina," as she called 
 herself, tightly in my arms, while she led my husband to the 
 room where the body of the woman was decently laid out for 
 burial. He told me when he returned that the child bore not the 
 slightest resemblance to her attendant. 
 
 After looking at the corpse, the landlady gave him a small 
 packet, which she had found in the pocket of the deceased ; also 
 a necklace and locket taken from the child's neck. The locket 
 contained a miniature to which Ina bore a close resemblance. 
 Frank looked eagerly for an inscription, but found only the words 
 " Jfaman a Ina." 
 
 " I think these ought to be preserved for the child," said Mrs. 
 Morrison." " Who knows but they may bring out some day who 
 her parents were ? " Frank assented, and assured her that the 
 articles should be sacredly preserved. 
 
 " Your wife seems to take a great liking to her." 
 
 " Yes," replied the Doctor, " as they are both strangers in this 
 country, she thinks the little girl has rather a claim upon her." 
 
 " Is she a Frencher too ? I always heard she was English." 
 
 " Mrs. Lenox was educated in Paris," he replied. 
 
 " La now ! " exclaimed the woman, covering the face of the 
 corpse, " I did'nt think of her being so learned." 
 
 Frank then inquired whether the deceased woman left any prop-
 
 OB, REVELATONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 21 
 
 erty, and offered to pay the expenses they had incurred. Mrs. 
 Morrison brought forward an old pocket-book containing a few 
 dollars, which she said would cover all the expenses. "As to the 
 child," she continued, " I could n't think of charging anything for 
 her. Somebody may one day have to be looking after my little 
 folks ; " and this thought brought a tear to her eye. 
 
 I was talking merrily with my sweet charge, when they returned 
 to the parlor, and having thanked the warm-hearted landlady for 
 her kindness to the child, we took our departure. 
 
 I was so impatient to go home, and show my treasure to mother 
 and sister, that I begged to be excused from a drive, Frank had 
 promised me. Emily was quite as enthusiastic as I wished, in 
 her praise of my Ina, and tried playfully to induce me to resign 
 my protege in her favor. The little one, however, was fully per 
 suaded I was her mamma ; and I felt no desire to undeceive her. 
 
 She is now safely asleep in her crib ; the same in which Frank 
 and Emily were rocked. I have crept softly into the room two 
 or three times. The whole affair appears like a pleasant dream. 
 Miss Proctor has made a night-dress ; and Monday I must com 
 mence vigorously upon her wardrobe. Emily has promised to 
 assist me. 
 
 Sabbath evening June 1th. 
 
 Tnis is my first Sabbath in America. It has been a delightful 
 day to me ; and I think 1 can say, it has been blessed to my soul. 
 Though far away from country, home and friends, yet I could 
 meet you all at the throne of Grace. I prayed for every dear 
 member of the home-circle, and for my beloved husband, myself 
 and my precious charge. 
 
 I went to church morning and afternoon, and was much im 
 pressed by the services. There is a seriousness and solemnity 
 about the audience, which I have seldom witnessed. The sermons 
 were chaste and in some passages even elegant in style. But what 
 pleased me more than all, was the fervor with which Mr. Munroe
 
 22 COEA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 delivered them, and the love which he manifested for the souls of 
 his people. 
 
 In the morning the text was 1 Cor. 15, 22 : " For as in Adam 
 all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive." He dwelt upon 
 the death which reigns in consequence of Adam's sin ; and in the 
 afternoon, upon the resurrection-life which all receive from 
 Christ. 
 
 The singing was performed by a choir in the orchestra, accom 
 panied by a variety of instruments. 
 
 When I returned from Church this morning, my little Ina was 
 still asleep, as I had left her. But this afternoon as I went in, 
 she came bounding toward me, clapping her hands, and saying 
 " chere maman ! chere maman ! " I had to take her to my 
 boudoir to put off my bonnet and shawl, for she would not leave 
 me. She was willing while in my arms to play with Frank ; but 
 if he attempted to take her from me, she hid her face in my neck. 
 I like to have her call me mamma when we are alone ; but it 
 makes Emily laugh, and I see Frank is inclined to follow her ex 
 ample, only that he sees it makes me blush, and embarrasses me. 
 Sweet child ! I wish she were my own ; I cannot bear the thought 
 of parting with her. Yet it may be that her mother is mourning 
 her loss. 
 
 Do you remember Pauline De Lacy, my dear friend and 
 school-mate, in Paris ? Ina looks so much like her, one would 
 think they must belong to the same family ; indeed, sisters seldom 
 resemble each other so exactly. To-day, this has occurred to me 
 so many times, that, with the consent of all parties, I have decided 
 to call her Pauline De Lacy Lenox. " Quite a romantic name," 
 Frank says, gravely ; " but as you are a very romantic lady, it will 
 be in good taste." 
 
 I looked up quickly, intending to deny the charge, when I saw 
 that roguish twinkle in his eye, which I begin to understand. 
 
 After au early tea, the servants were called to family prayers.
 
 OK, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 23 
 
 mother and Emily being present, who are hereafter to return from 
 church and spend Sabbath evening with us. In addition to the 
 usual services at the domestic altar, the good old Puritan custom 
 of catechising the household is observed. It was truly a 
 family service. The scene was novel and interesting to me. All 
 joined in singing a hymn, and then the Doctor expressed our in 
 dividual wants in prayer. I was a little fearful that Pauline would 
 not be quiet ; but there was a charm in Caesar's devout face which 
 occupied all her attention. Perhaps a very little fear was mingled 
 with her wonder, as she nestled herself very close to me. But 
 the good man took no heed of the large eyes fixed on him with 
 such seriousness. His soul was drinking in the Word, while he 
 regarded his young master with fond respect. 
 
 When the rest of the servants retired, he remained, and the 
 Doctor asked him, " Well, my good Ctesar, how have you enjoyed 
 the day?" 
 
 " Oh, Mass'r ! dis yer pears like good old times when old Mass'r 
 live. Dem good old days, berry ! " Caesar wiped his eyes with 
 his coat sleeve as he left the room ; and his was not the only eye 
 moistened by this allusion to the past. 
 
 I don't know as I told you that Caesar and Phebe were pur 
 chased by Squire Lenox from the south, where they were about 
 to be sold separately. He brought them to the north, where, of 
 course, they are free ; and they have ever since constituted an im 
 portant part of the family. Taught to read and write, they have 
 for many years been members of the same church with their 
 master and mistress. 
 
 Monday Morning, June 8th. 
 
 FRANK has just left me for his morning calls. He came in 
 from the garden when Cresar brought the carriage to the door, and 
 not finding me below, he sprang up the stairs to bid me good bye. 
 Pauline looked up quickly and pointed with her finger to direct 
 my attention, saying, " dere Frank."
 
 24 CORA AND THE DOCTOR ', 
 
 We both laughed heartily. He patted her cheek, " So little miss, 
 ghe 's mamma ; and I, only Frank. I rather think you '11 have to 
 take me for a papa for want of a better ; " then turning to me, 
 " it would sound oddly enough. Now to you the name mamma 
 seems natural as life, only it makes you rather rosy." lie bade 
 mother and daughter good bye, and ran away in haste. 
 
 I am constantly haunted by the thought that she is in some 
 way connected with my school-mate Pauline De Lacy. I have in 
 vain tried to remember if she had a married sister whose child 
 this may be. 
 
 But I must leave this subject and finish my story about Crcsar 
 and his wife. It was a great trial to them when mother and 
 Emily left the old homestead, even to go across the garden to 
 their cottage-home, and they desired to go with them. But mother 
 overruled their objections and retained Ruth, their only child, a 
 capable girl of twenty. 
 
 I believe Coesar trembled not a little at the idea of a new mis 
 tress, who he feared would disturb the harmony of the family. I 
 have, however, gained his good will. He treats me like a toy 
 which he is exceedingly apprehensive of injuring. 
 
 As for Phebe, such is her pride in the glory of " our folks," 
 that as I am a Lenox, the wife of Mass'r Frank, nothing can be 
 too good for me. I think, she likes me better because I am young 
 and inexperienced in household affairs, and, therefore, shall not be 
 Likely to interfere in her department. There is, indeed, no occa 
 sion for me to do so. She has been well and thoroughly trained 
 by mother, and is fully competent to perform the duties of her 
 station, while Ann, the chambermaid, is equally so in her appro 
 priate sphere. 
 
 To tell you the truth, I did not know exactly what was expected 
 of me. One day last week, I waited upon madam in the kitchen 
 and in a very hesitating manner began to say something about 
 dinner, when she soon interrupted me, " Laws, missus, don't you, 
 honey, trouble your precious head 'bout sich kind. I'se feel shamed
 
 OK, REVELATIONS OP A 1'HYSICIAH's WIFE. 25 
 
 to look Mass'r Frank in de face, and den pears like make me 
 blush to have it told down town ; little young missus spending her 
 blessed time in de kitchen." 
 
 I presume, I looked, as I felt, delighted to be relieved, and was 
 running away, laughingly, when she continued, "Dere missus, go 
 long, please, and play on de pianny." I came gladly away, but 
 spent the time writing in my journal. Now I have enough to oc 
 cupy me in the care of my little Pauline. 
 
 After Ann had put her to bed last night, Frank showed us the 
 little parcel given him by the landlady. It contained part of a 
 letter addressed to a domestic, giving strict directions concerning 
 the child. It was written in French, in a delicate female hand, 
 but gave no clue as to the name or place of the writer. A 
 mother's heart evidently dictated it, from the numerous directions 
 about clothing, diet, and the like. The packet contained, in addi 
 tion, a child's dress, with elaborate embroidery upon the neck and 
 sleeves ; also a pair of coral and gold sleeve clasps to match the 
 necklace. 
 
 Many conjectures were formed by Emily, respecting the 
 parentage of the child, after which the articles were returned to 
 Frank to be locked up safely among his treasures. His sister 
 mischievously recommended him to deposit them in a certain 
 trunk, containing nothing but old letters, saying, with an arch 
 look at me, " I suppose now they are worthless." 
 
 The Doctor deigned no reply. This amused Emily so much 
 that she whispered to me, loud enough for him to hear, " Oh, the 
 deceitfulness of man ! He tries, beneath that solemn look, to make 
 you believe that he does 'nt value those letters above rubies. I '11 
 manage very differently if I ever get in love, which to be sure, is 
 very unlikely. I should wish my husband to tell me once in half 
 an hour that I was dearer to him than all on earth. I 've no 
 doubt Frank feels as I do, for each one of those letters used to 
 make him bright for a week ; and he hurried the poor carpenters 
 
 3
 
 26 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 and masons, as if his very life depended on our moving away 
 from the house as soon as possible." 
 
 " Emily," called Frank in a serious tone, looking up gravely 
 from the book he was reading, " did I not hear something of an 
 exchange of pulpits between Mr. Munroe and Mr. Benson ? " 
 
 It was now Emily's turn to be silent. She hesitated, blushed, 
 and finally retired from the room. After she left, Frank asked 
 mother, " Do you think Emily loves Mr. Benson ? " 
 
 She replied, " I really cannot tell. Beyond his coming often 
 to the house, and Emily seeming rather pleased with his visits, 1 
 know nothing." 
 
 Sister has just returned from town, where she has been to make 
 purchases for Pauline's wardrobe. Now I must drop my pen, 
 and go to work with my scissors and needle. 
 
 Tuesday, June th. 
 
 Though very busy, I must write a few lines while Pauline is 
 asleep. Emily and I went to the garret this morning the re 
 ceptacle for all things not in use, and found a great supply of play 
 things for Miss Pauline. Among them are a large wax doll, and 
 her furniture, which with sister's permission, I shall lay by for fu 
 ture use. With a basket of these toys, the dear child has amused 
 herself on the floor, while mother, Miss Proctor, Emily and my 
 self have been plying our needles. We have one suit nearly 
 completed, and shall take her to ride in it this afternoon. We are 
 to go in the double carriage, and after procuring the young Miss 
 a suitable covering for her curly head, we are to drive as far as 
 Waverley, the parish of Emily's friend, though this part of our 
 plan has not yet been disclosed to her ladyship. 
 
 Evening. 
 
 The doctor was summoned to a patient after tea, but will, I 
 think, be back soon, when I must devote myself entirely to him.
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIPE. 27 
 
 Do you know, dear mother, lie is trying to make me think him 
 jealous of the young lady I have honored with my protection : 
 really, he says my thoughts are so full of Pauline that I have 
 hardly looked at him for two days. I believe after all he is as 
 bad as Emily, and wants me to tell him " every half hour what 
 a darling he is." I must look to this, for I think I have been to 
 blame, and he shall see my heart is large enough for both. He 
 knows, however, he occupies his full share in my affections. 
 
 I remember once before my marriage hearing him say to a 
 lady in England, he would never accept half a heart ; no, hardly 
 one that had loved before. He wanted the fresh and warm gush- 
 ings of affection. She inquired if he had such a heart to give in 
 return. He answered proudly, " I shall ask for no more than I 
 can bestow." 
 
 I hear the carriage, and will run to meet him. 
 
 Wednesday, June 10th. 
 
 Last evening, Frank laughed, as I stood at the door, and said 
 jocosely " I suppose Miss Lenox is asleep, and that you are glad 
 even of my company when you have no other." 
 
 Though he was laughing, the tears instantly filled my eyes, and 
 I said, " oh, Frank ! you know how much more I love you than 
 all the Paulines in the world." I spoke earnestly for I thought 
 his words implied a distrust of my love. 
 
 His manner changed at once, and very tenderly taking my 
 hand, he led me to the sofa. He turned my face to his, which I 
 had vainly endeavored to conceal. " Now, my love," said he, when 
 he had kissed away the tears, " let us have a full understanding." 
 
 " Yes, but I want you to forgive me first, if you think I have 
 been too much absorbed with Pauline." 
 
 " My sweet wife, you have never offended me. It is 1 who 
 ought to ask forgiveness for making you weep. Perhaps you will 
 think me selfish ; but I want you to promise to ride with me every 
 day when I can be at liberty, and to leave Pauline with mother,
 
 28 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 or with Ann. When I am not at liberty, Caesar will take the 
 large carriage and drive you all, Miss Lenox junior among the rest. 
 Will you promise this ? " 
 
 " With great pleasure ; but why not take her with us ; she 
 would be quiet ? " 
 
 " Because, I want to take you to visit my poor patients. I 
 have laid out a great work for you, Cora, and if I do not mistake, 
 you will love it. Then it will be a good discipline for Pauline, to 
 have you leave her occasionally. By the way, have you settled 
 the question with her who shall be mistress ? " 
 
 I looked at him in wonder. " I have noticed several times," 
 said he pleasantly, " when your wishes and hers were at variance, 
 that you yielded to her, instead of insisting that she should yield 
 to you. Now, my dear Cora, as we have taken this child, we are 
 responsible to God for her proper government and education. 
 She is not a mere plaything which can be thrown aside at plea 
 sure. She has a soul to be fitted for happiness or misery. Have 
 you thought of this? Have you counted the cost, the care, and 
 effort, and patience which all this requires ? " 
 
 " Yes, Frank, and I have prayed for wisdom to guide me. I 
 know well I am not fitted for such a charge." 
 
 " Then, dear wife, I have no more to say. I will do anything 
 to cooperate with you ; and if you enter upon it with such a spirit 
 you will have both Divine help and reward." 
 
 I thank God, dear mother, for such a kind husband ; so faithful 
 to point out my faults, and so ready to help me overcome them. 
 He feared I did not realize the care and responsibility of the 
 work I had undertaken. I intend at once to commence a course 
 of reading on education. Heretofore I have thought little upon 
 the subject ; only that children should be taught to be obedient, 
 truthful and affectionate. Now I understand why Frank wished 
 me to allow Ann to put Pauline to bed. The child cried every 
 time I left her, and would only be satisfied with my waiting upon 
 her in person. I had in two or three instances yielded to her for
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 29 
 
 the sake of peace, without realizing that the principle was wrong, 
 or that she was forming a bad habit. Frank saw she grew more 
 and more imperative in her demands and hence thought it neces 
 sary to speak to me of the exposure. 
 
 I believe I have not given you an account of our ride to 
 Waverley. We were about a mile on our way, when, whom 
 should we meet but the very Mr. Benson on horse-back, and 
 going to the cottage. I whispered to Emily that we could easily 
 return and leave her at home while we continued our ride. But 
 to this she would by no means consent, and turned indifferently to 
 the window the opposite side of the carriage, where she was in 
 tently occupied with the prospect, which in that place consisted of 
 a fine growth of forest trees. 
 
 Mr. Benson addressed some words to me, and then rode round 
 to ascertain what was so charming in the opposite view. I really 
 pitied the poor man, for Emily was almost rude to him. I don't 
 yet understand them ; but I think I can see that he is a little 
 wanting in tact, and does not quite understand all the crooks and 
 turns in a woman's heart. 
 
 Frank very politely invited Mr. Benson to accompany us, who 
 said it would give him pleasure to do so, if agreeable to our com 
 pany. He looked at Emily ; but she deigned no reply, appearing 
 wholly engaged in a frolic with Pauline. 
 
 I began at once to be very polite, determined to do my part 
 toward making amends for Emily's indifference, which I saw 
 pained him. It is difficult conversing from a carriage with a 
 gentleman on horse-back ; but as we rode slowly, I endeavored to 
 be very interesting, until after a time the young clergyman, per 
 ceiving he had no attention from the object of his special regard, 
 resumed his place at my side. 
 
 I really like Mr. Benson, and should be glad of him for a 
 brother. I cannot help thinking sister likes him too ; when he is 
 not talking with her ; for I noticed she kept Pauline very quiet and 
 listened with interest to our conversation. When we returned 
 
 3*
 
 80 CORA AND THE DOCTOR. 
 
 home, I earnestly invited the gentleman to remain and take tea 
 with us, and had to bite my lips to keep from laughing to see 
 Emily's amazement at the turn affairs "had taken. 
 
 The suitor, after looking very much embarrassed, as if expect 
 ing an invitation from another, accepted mine, and we entered 
 the house. Mother stood quietly by. I suppose she is determined 
 to leave Emily to act for herself. When he consented to remain, 
 she said, " now you will excuse us ; " but I insisted they should 
 fulfil their engagement to tea, when, at least, one of the company 
 became decidedly more cheerful. " I wish he would 'nt speak to 
 Emily again this evening," was my thought, as he continually tried 
 to engage her in conversation. 
 
 Notwithstanding all my efforts, the evening passed away slowly ; 
 the Doctor having been called out soon after tea. The occasion 
 ended sadly for the poor suitor, who, toward the close of it, re 
 quested a few moments' conversation with Emily. In this inter 
 view, she decidedly refused him, and then cried all night after 
 it. 
 
 Foolish girl ! But I persuaded her to unburthen her heart to 
 me. She confessed, she did not know whether she loved Mr. 
 Benson or not. Many traits in his character she admired ; but 
 others suggested serious objections. The latter, however, I could 
 not induce her to name, and indeed, I doubt whether she had her 
 self any distinct idea of them. 
 
 After a pause, during which I tried in vain to think of some 
 thing which would comfort her, she looked at me earnestly and 
 said, " Cora, tell me truly, don't you think he 's rather soft?" "I 
 think," I replied, trying to conceal my mirth, " that he has a very 
 strong affection for you ; and that sometimes it would be more 
 pleasing to a delicate, modest girl, if he did not exhibit it so open- 
 
 " That is exactly my feeling, but I could n't express it. Yet 
 what is the use of talking ? " she asked, with a profound sigh ; 
 " the question is settled, and there the matter rests."
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 'From the light ills of infant age. 
 Up to the plague's destructive rage, 
 Pains come and go at thy command, 
 True to the sceptre of thy hand." EAST. 
 
 Thursday, June \\th. 
 
 WHEN the Doctor left for his morning duties, he said, " Please 
 bear in mind, Cora, that you have engaged yourself to me for 
 the afternoon." 
 
 " For life, I understood it," said I, trying to speak gravely. 
 
 He was much pleased, and turned back to give me another em 
 brace, and whispered, " my darling," in such a loving tone, that 
 my heart felt very warm all the forenoon. 
 
 I wish I could describe to you the view from my window. It 
 rained all night, and this morning was very foggy ; but now the 
 sun is beginning to dispel the mist; and the mountain oh, it is 
 beautiful ! I keep stopping to look, and to inhale the balmy air. 
 Now I can see the summit quite distinctly ; the sun is shining 
 upon it, while the fleecy clouds roll off and settle on the lake, 
 from which they arise in thick mist. 
 
 Before we left our room this morning, Frank gave me a subject 
 for thought which rather troubles me ; but I think I know what 
 you and dear father would advise ; I know also what is right ; but 
 courage, courage is wanting. We are constantly liable to be inter 
 rupted while engaged in family devotions ; or Frank is away at the 
 regular time. He asked, this morning, as a great favor to himself,
 
 82 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 that I would, in such cases, call the family together and read 
 prayers. 
 
 I started at the proposition, and was about to say, " I cannot," 
 when he said, " do not decide hastily. Think upon the subject, 
 and tell me to-morrow." After a pause, he continued, " the time 
 of a physician is not at his own command. I may be called away 
 day after day ; and our family services lose half their interest and 
 profit through the want of regularity." 
 
 " How was it before I came ? " 
 
 " Mother always conducted the service in my absence." 
 
 My mind was in a perfect tumult. At breakfast I thought I 
 had found a good excuse ; at least, it then appeared so to me ; and 
 I tried to be cheerful and to dismiss the subject. After prayers, as 
 my husband was leaving the room, I detained him ; " Frank," I 
 asked, " don't you think I 'm too young ? Csesar, Phebe and Ann 
 are so much older than I am. Does it appear to you quite 
 proper ? " 
 
 " Well," said he, coming back and shutting the door, " I didn't 
 think of it in that light. You are rather young, to be sure ; only 
 eighteen the fourth day of February." I was surprised that he 
 remembered the exact day. " How soon do you think you will be 
 at the proper age ? " 
 
 I had thought, when he commenced, that he certainly considered 
 this a valid excuse ; but the moment he asked that question, though 
 there was not the slightest touch of irony in his tone, yet I fell 
 mortified in the extreme, and the blood rushed to my very fore 
 head. I turned quickly away, as Emily entered the room. 
 
 And now what can I do ? My heart almost stands still at the 
 bare thought of it ; /, who have never audibly lifted up my voice 
 in prayer to God, save only in the presence of my little Pauline. 
 1 cannot do it ; and I think my husband almost hard to ask it of 
 me. He is always so calm and self-possessed, he little knows how 
 my heart throbs.
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 33 
 
 Noon. 
 
 As Frank has not returned, I will add a few lines. I have 
 taken Pauline for a walk through the garden, and made a call 
 upon mother and sister. How we all laughed when the little 
 thing lisped " grandmamma," in obedience to my wish. Before 
 we came out, mother remarked that I looked quite pale. I longed 
 to ask her advice, but conscience whispered, " you already know 
 your duty ; " and I concluded to say nothing about my trouble. 
 " Emily," I replied, " can sympathize with me ; she is looking 
 very unwell." 
 
 As I spoke, her face and neck were covered with a burning 
 blush. " Emily is not well," said mother gravely ; " She scarcely 
 eats at all." 
 
 " O, mother ! " exclaimed Emily, " I 'm well enough, only a 
 head ache," and she went to the closet to get seed cakes for Pau 
 line. 
 
 As I returned home through the kitchen garden, to give the 
 child a longer walk, I heard Phebe, who stood at the back door, 
 call to Cassar. 
 
 " Look dere now ! see de young Missus. It's enough to do 
 your old curly pate powerful sight o' good just to see her a leading 
 dis yer baby." 
 
 Evening. 
 
 I obtained permission from mother this morning to leave Pau 
 line with her, while I rode with Frank. When the time arrived, 
 Ann put on her bonnet, and then it was very easy to induce Miss 
 to have hers put on for a walk to grandmamma's. 
 
 It has been a delightful day after the rain ; and if my heart had 
 been at rest, I should have enjoyed the ride. I imagined my looks 
 troubled Frank a little, for he said he had intended taking me 
 with him to visit one or two families in the outskirts of the town ; 
 but if I did not feel inclined, he would postpone it until another 
 day. I assured him my health was perfectly good, and I had 
 anticipated the calls with much pleasure. So we rode on through
 
 34 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 the village, he being more than usually social and interesting, and 
 giving me no time to think of myself until we came to the bordei 
 of the town, near the lake I have mentioned. 
 
 Here stood a number of small cottages, one story in height, 
 with the grounds about them enclosed with low fences. I noticed 
 one of these bore marks of more taste and refinement than the 
 others. It had a pleasant little patch of flowers along the side of 
 the beaten path to the entrance, while a beautiful rose bush was 
 trained upon a trellis by the side of the door, which run upon the 
 house nearly to the roof, and furnished a complete shade to one of 
 the windows. 
 
 This was the home of the Doctor's patient, and I followed him 
 to the door, which stood hospitably open. A light knock brought 
 a modest woman to the entrance, who, in her tabby muslin cap, 
 and her clean checked apron, appeared very neatly. She courte- 
 sied as the Doctor introduced me, and invited us to walk in. The 
 patient is a young girl in her sixteenth year, who is gradually 
 wasting away with consumption. Never shall I forget the brigltf 
 expression of love and respect which beautified her countenance^ 
 as Frank took her hand, and tenderly inquired how she had passed 
 the night. " I have brought you another friend," he added ; " one 
 I am sure you will love. I think I can safely promise she will be 
 happy to do anything for your comfort." This promise I cheer 
 fully confirmed. 
 
 Hers is a case requiring little medicine. Her sufferings are 
 comparatively slight, except from exhausting fits of coughing. 
 She appears to be passing gently away. The bright color which 
 burned in her cheek had now faded, leaving her face perfectly 
 colorless. The only relief to the marble whiteness was the long 
 black lashes which lay upon her cheek when she closed her eyes. 
 Propped up in her bed by pillows, she looked with her whole soul 
 at the Doctor, who sat at her side, speaking to her of God's rich 
 mercy. She assented to what he said by a slight inclination of the 
 head, and sometimes repeated after him part of the verse of
 
 OH, REVELATIONS OP A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 35 
 
 Scripture, he quoted, as if to impress it upon her own mind. But 
 I could see plainly that she was under restraint by the presence 
 of a stranger. 
 
 When he arose, she held out her hand and whispered, " will 
 you please to pray with me ? " Frank immediately reseated him 
 self, and taking a little pocket Bible from his coat, read a few 
 verses from the fourteenth chapter of John ; and then prayed. I 
 felt borne on wings of faith to heaven as my dear husband 
 praised God for the love which had sent the Saviour into the world, 
 that' we might have pardon and eternal life ; that we might be 
 elevated to seats at his right hand in heaven, and be joint heirs 
 with Christ to immortal glory and honor. He besought Jesus to 
 bless and comfort with his Divine presence, the dear child who 
 was approaching the dark valley ; to give her the victory over sin 
 and death, and to receive her through faith in him into the king 
 dom of heaven, where her eternity might be spent in singing 
 " Worthy the Lamb that was slain." 
 
 As I approached the bed to bid her farewell, I was struck 
 dumb, with the heavenly smile of peace and joy which shone in 
 every feature. Surely, thought I, she has the seal upon her fore 
 head ; she already breathes the air of heaven. I lifted her thin 
 white hand to my lips, and bowed my head in silence ; I dared 
 not trust my voice to speak. 
 
 The Doctor called Mrs. Leighton aside and gave her a few 
 simple directions before we left. He conducted me silently to the 
 carriage, turned the horse down a shady lane toward the water, 
 and drew me to him until I could lay my head upon his shoulder, 
 when my excited feelings found relief in tears. 
 
 When I had become more composed, Frank asked, " Is she not 
 to be envied ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ! yes ! " I replied, " Would, I could feel the assurance 
 of faith and love, which lit up her face like that of an angel ! " 
 
 He then, at my request, told me something of her history. Her
 
 36 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 parents, Mr. and Mrs. Leighton, are respectable, pious people, who 
 have been deeply afflicted by the loss of two daughters and one son by 
 the same disease which is now wasting the frame of their only sur 
 viving child. Naturally amiable and intelligent she has been too 
 much indulged by her fond parents, who cling to her "as their last 
 and best beloved. 
 
 So insidious was her disease, that, when summoned to her sick 
 bed, Fz-ank found no skill could save her. He therefore endeavored 
 to direct her to the great Physician, to cure the disease of her soul. 
 
 " What was the state of her mind at that time ? " I asked. 
 
 " Very rebellious. She was unwilling to hear a word of dis 
 couragement, and talked constantly of pleasures and parties, in 
 which her mother had allowed her to mingle. She was a very 
 handsome girl, lively and agreeable in conversation, and had ex 
 cited unusual attention for one so young." 
 
 " How soon did she become reconciled to death ? She seems 
 now to look forward to it, as the consummation of her hopes and 
 
 j vs -" 
 
 " Not for many months ; but she will give you an account of 
 the change in her feelings. I hope you will soon see her again ; 
 she has not long to stay with us." 
 
 As we passed the house on our return, we noticed Mrs. Leigh- 
 ton at the door watching for us. Frank, thinking she wished to 
 call him, sprang from the carriage. But she only put into his 
 hand a little bouquet, saying in a suppressed voice, " Caroline," at 
 the same time waving her hand that it was intended for me. I 
 was very much affected at the simple gift, and sent my thanks to 
 the sweet girl. There was exquisite taste in the selection a 
 moss rose bud a white rose half blown, with dark green myrtle 
 leaves, and a sprig of mignonette. 
 
 " It must have been hard for her," I said, " to give up this 
 beautiful earth, she is so fond of flowers and everything tasteful." 
 
 "All ! but she gains heaven," was Frank's reply. This gug-
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIPE. 37 
 
 gested to me the following lines from a favorite poet, which 1 re 
 peated to my husband. 
 
 " Once when I look'd along the laughing earth, 
 Up the blue heavens, and through the middle air, 
 Joyfully ringing with the sky-lark's song, 
 I wept, and thought how sad for one so young, 
 To bid farewell to so much happiness. 
 But Christ doth call me from this lower world; 
 Delightful though it be." 
 
 We next stopped at a house of moderate size, in which the 
 Doctor told me, four families found their home. Having tied the 
 horse by the little gate, we entered a room on the right, where a 
 poor man lay on a bench, or, as I afterwards saw, a long chest, 
 upon which some quilts had been spread to make it soft. The 
 chest was pushed to the corner of the room, so that, with pillows 
 behind him, the invalid could sit almost upright. 
 
 Watching by his side was a very pretty woman, who, from her 
 dialect, I perceived was Welsh. Near her was a small boy of 
 about three years of age, sitting on a low cricket ; Avhile in a 
 shed, opening directly out of the room, there stood a young girl of 
 eleven, washing. 
 
 After putting two chairs near her husband, Mrs. Lewis resumed 
 her seat and her sewing, as it was only by her industry, the family 
 were supported. 
 
 Frank inquired particularly about the symptoms of his patient, 
 and prescribed for his relief. He then said, " I have brought my 
 wife, as I promised to introduce her to you." Here Mr. Lewis 
 put out his emaciated hand, and expressed pleasure at seeing me. 
 Frank continued, " Mrs. Lenox will come and read to you, if you 
 wish, while your wife is busy." 
 
 The sick man regarded me with a look of gratitude, while his 
 wife replied, " I am sure t'would be a great comfort to us both, to 
 hear a bit of the Word. My man," she continued, " is not able to 
 
 4
 
 38 CORA AND THE DOCTOR ; 
 
 read ; it makes his eyes ache badly. I have so little time, I can 
 only repeat a verse now and then, to give us something to think 
 of." 
 
 The Doctor asked Mr. Lewis if he had enjoyed more peace of 
 mind since his last visit. 
 
 " Sometimes," he replied in a whisper, " I can feel willing to 
 trust myself in the hands of God ; but again all is dark, and I 
 can't come nigh to him. He appears a great way off, and I seem 
 to be praying into the air." As he closed, his breast heaved a 
 deep sigh. 
 
 I became so much interested in him ; and he so exactly described 
 my own feelings, at times, that I forgot any one else was present, 
 and said, " Oh, sir ! I have often felt so ; and the only way I can 
 do, is to keep praying, until God reveals himself to me. He does 
 hear, and he will answer if we keep asking, and if he sees we 
 are in earnest." 
 
 I stopped suddenly, in great embarrassment, when Frank im 
 mediately added. " This is the case with most Christians. Some 
 times while we are yet speaking God hears, and grants an answer 
 of peace. Again he delays, to try our faith and patience." 
 
 " But the prayers of the wicked are an abomination," said Mr. 
 Lewis feebly. " I can't feel sure that he has accepted me." 
 
 " Has his promise ever failed ? " inquired the Doctor. He 
 says, ' call upon me and I will answer ; knock and it shall be 
 opened.' " 
 
 The poor man put his hand to his breast, as if in great pain. 
 Frank feared lest we were prolonging the interview beyond his 
 strength, and rose to leave. 
 
 " Surely you won't go without praying for me," said Mr. 
 Lewis. 
 
 "If you feel able to attend, I will do so with pleasure," replied 
 the Doctor. I was very much affected to sec the sick man rise 
 feebly, and kneel during prayer. He wept much, and when we 
 arose he was so exhausted by his emotion, the Doctor and his
 
 OK, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 39 
 
 wife were obliged to raise him to his feet. But when he had 
 taken some drink, he became more composed, and said, " Thank 
 you." " Come soon," he said to me, with a smile. 
 
 Mrs. Lewis followed us to the door, where Frank put into her 
 hand a bank bill ; and in addition, requested her to send to our 
 house in the morning for some chicken broth of which he wished 
 her husband to partake freely. Her eyes filled with tears, and 
 she could only look her thanks. 
 
 It was now becoming late, and we returned home. I cannot help 
 thinking how much good a pious physician has it in his power to 
 do. He gains the aifections of his patients ; and they will listen 
 to religious conversation which they would not hear from a stran 
 ger. Frank cares for their souls as well as their bodies, especially 
 as the one commonly affects the other.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 " Wretch that I am, what hopes for me remain, 
 Who cannot cease to love, yet love in vain? " CowrER. 
 
 Sabbath morning, June l&th. 
 
 DEAR MOTHER, I must write you a few lines to tell you how 
 happy I am. Yesterday, you remember, I was to decide whether 
 I would conduct the family devotions when Frank is absent. My 
 mind was so much occupied during the afternoon, I hardly thought 
 of it ; but in the evening, I retired to my closet, determined to 
 ask for strength from one who is ever ready to help the weak in 
 the performance of duty. 
 
 When I arose from my knees, my fear was all dispelled. It 
 appeared almost like a privilege to do what I had so much dreaded. 
 While I was yet speaking, God answered. 
 
 This morning, when I was dressing my little daughter, an em 
 ployment in which I delight, Frank came in and inquired, " Have 
 you thought upon the subject 1 proposed yesterday ? " 
 
 "Yes," was my reply. 
 
 "And what have you decided ? " 
 
 "I will, at least, attempt the duty." My hand trembled so 
 much, I could scarcely button Pauline's dress ; but I think he did 
 not notice it, for he walked quickly out of the room. I was tak 
 ing her to Ann for her breakfast, when he returned, and with such 
 evident marks of strong feeling on his countenance, I looked at 
 him anxiously. 
 
 He took my hand, and pressed it to his lips, saying, " Will you 
 soon return to your boudoir ? " I rang for Ann, and then followed 
 him. He clasped me in his arms, as he exclaimed, " my own
 
 REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIPE. 41 
 
 Cora, you were never before so dear to me. You little know 
 what a struggle it has cost me to see the conflict in your mind, 
 and neither say or do anything for your relief. I have blamed 
 myself severely for expecting so much of you, my dear child. 
 Many times yesterday I was on the point of withdrawing my re 
 quest ; but I hesitated. I felt sure you would decide aright, and 
 that I should rest satisfied with your decision. It is not the first 
 time you have set me an example. When I heard your decision, 
 I considered it a great triumph of duty over inclination." 
 
 " But you do not know all the naughty thoughts I had," said I, 
 raising my eyes for the first time. " I even wished," 
 
 " My own wife," said Frank, pressing me to his heart ! " And 
 have all these hard thoughts of your husband gone ? Did you 
 wish," he asked, turning my face to his, " that you had never left 
 home to live with such an exacting man ? " 
 
 " Oh, Frank ! I never wished so ; I did not say that. How 
 could I be happy as I am, if I felt thus ? I wished something 
 worse ; which I had rather not tell." 
 
 " You had better make a clean breast of it," said he, smiling. 
 
 " I wished," said I in a low tone, " that you were not quite so 
 good ; and then you would not expect so much of me." 
 
 Frank looked very much amused. " That 's the last thing in 
 the world, I expected my wife to complain of. But seriously, 
 Cora, I have learned many a lesson from you. One of your 
 looks of wonder, a 3 r ear since, upset my favorite theory, and in the 
 end secured to me the most precious wife in the world." 
 
 Monday, June 15th. 
 
 Poor Emily ! I wonder if she knew Mr. Benson was to ex 
 change with Mr. Munroe, yesterday. If so, she did not, speak of 
 it. I never saw a man so changed ; he looked as if he had had 
 a severe fit of sickness. 
 
 " He withers at his heart, and looks as wan 
 As the pale spectre of a murder' d man."
 
 42 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 But his sermon was really sublime, and lifted me above myself. 
 The text was the last verse of the forty-second Psalm : " Why 
 art thou cast down, my soul ? and why art thou disquieted with 
 in me ? hope thou in God : for I shall yet praise him, who is the 
 health of my countenance, and my God." 
 
 Trust in God, was his subject. Amid all the trials and vicissi 
 tudes of life, trust in God is the only sure source of happiness for 
 the Christian. Trust him to bring good out of seeming ill ; to 
 make these very trials " work out for us a far more exceeding and 
 eternal weight of glory." If he withdraws the light of his 
 countenance ; if our beloved friends sicken and die before our eyes ; 
 if our worldly estate takes to itself wings and flies away ; if our 
 fondest hopes are suddenly dashed to the ground ; if we are ever 
 left to call out in agony of spirit, " Why art thou cast down, O 
 my soul ? and why art thou disquieted within me ? " we may, by 
 Divine grace, also exclaim, " hope thou in God, for I shall yet 
 praise him, who is the health of my countenance, and my God." 
 
 In the pale countenance of the speaker, I could read the strug 
 gle, and the victory. I was actually startled at Emily's looks, as 
 we turned to come out of the pew. She caught my hand to save 
 herself from falling ; and from the motion of her lips I understood 
 her to say, "faint" though no articulate sound came forth. 
 
 I whispered, " Dear Emily ! lean upon me ; don't faint here ; 
 try to arouse yourself." 
 
 Never was I more thankful than when we reached the carriage 
 and had assisted the poor girl into it, without attracting notice. 
 There was not a particle of color in her face or lips. I drew off 
 her gloves, and chafed her hands, while mother loosed her bonnet 
 strings, and applied the smelling drops to her nose. 
 
 With a deep sigh she recovered her consciousness, and was 
 ashamed and mortified that her feelings should have been be 
 trayed even to her loving friends. She tried to conceal them 
 with the flimsy excuse, that she arose in the morning with a head 
 ache, and the heat of the house had overcome her.
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 43 
 
 I wonder if Emily thinks, she really deceives us, or is she de 
 ceiving herself? In the afternoon, she declared that she was 
 fully able to go to church ; and when, at the last moment, she was 
 forced to acknowledge herself sick, and mother was removing her 
 own bonnet to remain with her, she insisted that she had rather 
 be left alone, and mother very reluctantly left her. 
 
 " Poor girl ! " I exclaimed, as mother related the circumstance, 
 " my heart aches for her." 
 
 " I never saw a child so changed," said mother sadly ; " I can 
 not but think, she regrets her hasty decision. I have never before 
 known her to be irritable. It seems to annoy her exceedingly to 
 have me notice her languor or want of spirits. Frank," she con 
 tinued, " I wish you would persuade Emily to take an anodyne. 
 I think the want of sleep is partly the cause of her head ache." 
 Frank asked if she would be likely to come over to the house to 
 tea ; but mother could not tell ; she was so changeable in her 
 feelings. 
 
 I could not help thinking, Mr. Benson noticed sister's absence, 
 lie looked very sad. I was so anxious about the poor girl, that I 
 must confess, I could not confine my thoughts to the discourse. 
 Frank, too, was called out ; arid mother looked pale and troubled. 
 Altogether, I worked myself up into quite a fever of excitement ; 
 and was glad when the services were through. 
 
 While we waited a moment in the porch for Cassar to bring 
 the carriage to the door, Mr. Benson passed down from the pulpit 
 and came out. He would evidently have avoided the meeting, if 
 possible ; but mother stepped forward with much kindness and 
 thanked him for his faithful discourses. He unbent at once, 
 and inquired for my health and that of the family. 
 
 I told him, I was well, but quite anxious about my sister, as she 
 had a severe head-ache which detained her at home. What could 
 have come over the man to look so pleased that she was ill ? 
 Fearing I had said something to compromise her delicacy, I
 
 44 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 added, " she has had the head-ache for several days." Now I 
 think of it, I only made it worse. He spoke, as he conducted us 
 to the carriage, of his sorrow at the intelligence, while he looked 
 perfectly delighted. 
 
 When we reached home, Phebe met us at the door, and said 
 " Misse Emily here, and my pinion is dere' s mighty smart chance 
 for her to have a fever if Mass'r Frank don't doctor her." 
 
 As we entered the parlor, sister started up, and looked eagerly 
 for a moment as if expecting some one with us ; and then sank 
 back again on the sofa pillow, evidently disappointed. Could it 
 be that she thought Mr. Benson would return with us ? 
 
 Cassar went toward the village to meet his master, and soon 
 returned with him. The Doctor had been called to a child in a 
 fit from indigestion. That reminds me to tell you that in ac 
 cordance with his wish, I have restricted Pauline's diet to bread 
 and milk, which she eats heartily, sitting in Ann's lap. 
 
 Emily's sickness touched the little girl's heart ; I held her in 
 my arms, and let her put her soft-hand on " Aunty's head to 
 make it better." Frank came behind and put his on too, with 
 the tenderness of a woman. He sat down by her side and held 
 her head while she covered her eyes as if she feared, he would 
 read her thoughts. 
 
 " Emily," said he, gently, " you have too much heat ; I fear 
 you and Cora have lately been unduly excited. I thought yes 
 terday, she was going beyond her strength ; and such is also the 
 case with you. I must give you a little powder, which, I hope, 
 will soon afford you relief; does it ache less when I hold it so ?" 
 he asked, as he pressed the throbbing head between his hands. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! sometimes it feels as if it would fly to pieces." 
 
 " Poor girl ! how it throbs. Cora, will you hold her head 
 while I prepare something for her ? " 
 
 He soon returned with a wet bandage, which he bound tightly 
 around her head, and then gave her ammonia. I had finished
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIPE. 45 
 
 my tea and was returning through the hall, when Caesar an 
 swered the door bell, and to my amazement announced " Mr. 
 Benson." 
 
 In my confusion, I ushered him into the parlor where Emily 
 lay upon the sofa, with her face toward the wall. I hoped, she 
 was asleep, and was just coming to my senses, and intending to 
 invite him into the library, when he asked, "Is she then so 
 ill?" 
 
 At the sound of his voice, Emily sprang upon her feet, tore 
 the bandage from her head, while the light actually flashed from 
 her eyes at what she fancied an intrusion. But perceiving his 
 ghastly pallor, she sank back upon her seat, saying, " Frank has 
 been making a great fuss over me, as if I were sick." Truly, 
 one would never have thought so at that moment. She was per 
 fectly brilliant with excitement. The fever lit up her cheeks, 
 while her eyes even dazzled my sight. 
 
 How I pitied the young suitor ! He stood where he did upon 
 his first entrance, with his hat in his hand. His countenance 
 changed as he gazed at her until her eyes fell ; then with an air 
 which was almost haughty, he said " Farewell I FAREWELL, FOR 
 EVER ! ! " and left the room. 
 
 I followed him silently to the door, my heart being almost 
 paralyzed. He stopped, took my hand in both of his, pressed it 
 warmly and said, " I appreciate your kindness, but you are mis 
 taken." The last words he uttered in a cold, bitter tone, and was 
 gone. 
 
 I started to run to my chamber, but remembering my poor, 
 strange sister, I turned back to the parlor, where I found her 
 prostrate upon the floor. I screamed, " Frank ! mother ! " and 
 soon the whole household came rushing into the room. The 
 Doctor dismissed the servants, and taking Emily in his arms 
 carried her up stairs to the room, she formerly occupied. 
 
 It was some time before she revived. When she perceived 
 where she was, her woe-begone look penetrated my heart. Poor
 
 46 CORA AND THE DOCTOR ; 
 
 mother ! How quietly she goes about everything that ought to 
 be done, with an expression of patient suffering ! How can 
 Emily make herself and ail of us so unhappy ! She lies this 
 morning in a deep sleep, and, I hope, will awake refreshed. I 
 have been sitting by her while mother went over to the cottage 
 on some business. She has now returned, and I have persuaded 
 her to lie down on the couch in sister's room. She was so 
 anxious, she scarcely slept at all. 
 
 Dear Pauline, what a comfort she is to me ! She is the most 
 affectionate little creature I ever saw, and has already woven her 
 self closely around our hearts. Even Frank laughs merrily at 
 her cunning ways. 
 
 Phebe wears a turban, generally made of a bandanna hand 
 kerchief, or something equally bright. Miss thought, she too 
 must wear one. So she watched her opportunity when Ann laid 
 down her duster, which happened to be an old silk kerchief of 
 similar colors to madam's turban, and tried to weave it round her 
 head. Ann observed her unsuccessful efforts with silent amuse 
 ment, and perceiving that when one side was arranged, the other 
 came tumbling down, offered to assist her. 
 
 Pauline shouted with delight : " Mamma, see ! mamma, see ! ! " 
 The kind hearted girl brought the child to me. I laughed well 
 at her grotesque appearance. Her head was top-heavy with the 
 turban, while the dark short curls peeping out here and there 
 made her look like a boy. She evidently thought it a good joke, 
 and was unwilling to have it taken off. You see, we make a 
 great pet of her; but since I began to manage her aright, she 
 obeys instantly. Sometimes her lip quivers a little, and she 
 looks as if she were about to burst into a hearty cry ; and 
 then, with a sigh, restrains herself. 
 
 Almost every morning, from eleven till two, I have received 
 calls ; and shall have business enough for the fall and winter if 
 they continue. Many of them are formal and ceremonious ; 
 others, I suppose, are prompted merely by curiosity to see the
 
 OK, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 47 
 
 stranger. I find the report of my three years' residence in 
 Paris creates quite a sensation. People look at me as if I 
 ought to be something more than Americans who have never 
 been out of their native land, and appear somewhat disappointed 
 to see in me nothing more than a simple, frank girl, just like 
 their daughters or sisters at home. 
 
 A few have called whom I like exceedingly ; who entered into 
 conversation upon subjects profitable and interesting. You, my 
 dear mother, have spoiled me for enjoying the society of persons 
 who cannot talk, except of individual character and conduct ; as 
 for instance: "I suppose, your husband has told you of the 
 trouble in Squire Lee's family. He attends there, I believe." 
 
 No," I replied. 
 
 " Ah, indeed ! "Well, Lucy has had to break her engage 
 ment with young Mansfield just to please her brother, who 
 is no better than he should be." I remained silent simply 
 because I had nothing to say, and was glad when the entrance 
 of other company put a stop to such gossip. 
 
 Of the more select class, are Mr. Munroe, Mr. and Mrs. 
 Marshall, Miss Proctor, Frank's favorite, and I must not 
 forget Friend Estes, who frankly said, " I came, my dear, to see 
 thee out of the regard I have for thy husband." 
 
 I rather think, she was well enough acquainted with human 
 nature to know, that she was making her way directly to my 
 heart. 
 
 " How is Susan, thy mother ? " she asked. I stopped and 
 hesitated a moment, before I remembered that the Friends 
 always use the first name. She was overflowing with love and 
 good-will to everybody ; and before she went away we grew so 
 friendly, that she kissed me twice and said, " I must bring Jotham 
 to see thee, my dear" " Cora," I said, seeing she hesitated for 
 the name, " and thou wilt come with thy husband for a visit to 
 our house." She warmed my heart finely by her praise of 
 Frank.
 
 48 CORA AND THE DOCTOR ; 
 
 After all, there are a great many pleasant people in the world. 
 I wish, you could see how kindly her deep blue eyes looked out 
 from her drab poke upon your Cora. Your heart would come 
 across the water to meet hers. 
 
 The more I see and hear of Miss Proctor, the better I love 
 and esteem her. She is truly a " Dorcas," in whom the sick and 
 afflicted always find a friend and helper. She has been 
 an efficient aid and cooperator with Frank in his gratuitous 
 practice. 
 
 Speaking of this class, I must relate to you an incident, Emily 
 told me. A short time since, when Frank had fairly established 
 himself in his profession, and had collected a good practice, a 
 young physician came to the place, rather to the annoyance of 
 some of his brethren of the profession, who took no pains to call 
 upon him. The Doctor, however, embraced the first opportunity 
 to visit him at his office, to which there was little more than a 
 showy sign, announcing to the public that " Dr. Clapp, Physician 
 and Surgeon, was ready to extract teeth and cut off legs at the 
 shortest notice, and for the lowest price imaginable." 
 
 Frank entered into conversation with this young son of 
 JEsculapius, and found, he was well learned in his profession, 
 and had high recommendations from his professors as to his 
 qualifications for his office. My good husband encouraged him 
 to persevere, and offered to recommend him wherever it was in 
 his power. 
 
 " I shall never be displeased," he added, " if I hear, you are 
 taking my practice, except in the case of my poor patients. 
 Most of these have grown up with me, and I flatter myself, I am, 
 with them, an exception to the general rule, ' a prophet is not 
 without honor, save in his OAvn country.' " 
 
 The sequel to this visit is quite romantic. Dr. Clapp, who is 
 about twenty-four years of age, walked to the window, where 
 he vigorously plied his handkerchief, as if afflicted with a 
 sudden cold. After this operation he was relieved, and came
 
 OK, REVELATIOXS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 49 
 
 back offering his hand to Frank. He said, or tried to say, for 
 his voice was rather husky, " Your kindness, Dr. Lenox, inspires 
 me with new life and courage. I am yet waiting for my first 
 patient." Then, encouraged by Frank's kind interest, he un- 
 burthened his heart, and asked advice with regard to a little 
 private affair of his own. 
 
 It appears that, like a great many foolish young men, (I don't 
 say it was foolish in his case, not knowing the circumstances,) he 
 had fallen in love, while in college, with " the most amiable girl in 
 the world." That was five years ago, so that their courtship had 
 been quite protracted. To the ardent lovers, at least, it had 
 seemed sufficiently so. 
 
 Harriet Phillips, who, at the time of their engagement, was 
 but fourteen, had now arrived at the mature age of nineteen 
 years, " Quite old enough," he added, with an inquiring look at 
 the Doctor, " to take charge of a family." 
 
 The decided tone in which Frank replied, " Certainly," gave 
 the suitor new courage. To marry, or not to marry, that was now 
 the question ; and the judge who was to give the important 
 decision, acknowledged that he found himself in rather a novel 
 predicament. However, he shielded himself as many judges do, 
 behind general principles. He acknowledged the great propriety 
 of a physician being a man of family, and as soon as he could 
 support a wife in comfort, he certainly advised him to marry. 
 
 " This," said Dr. Clapp, " is exactly the way I view the 
 subject." 
 
 The young man soon after returned the call in the Doctor's 
 absence. With a frankness which seems rather peculiar to him, 
 he told Emily all the first part of the interview, and more than 
 hinted at the latter ; so that she, who has a considerable share of 
 curiosity, coaxed Frank to tell her the rest, saying, "I'm sure 
 Dr. Clapp wants me to know about it." 
 
 Now she says, " I shall advise him to bring his Harriet without 
 
 5
 
 50 CORA AND THE DOCTOR. 
 
 delay. I fancy, lie thought her old enough when he saw you at 
 mother's levee. Besides Frank is so much older than he is." 
 
 Emily insists that I do not look more than sixteen, and that I 
 keep blushing like a girl of twelve. I wish I could break my 
 self of this habit ; but the more I try, the more the blood will 
 rush to my face. It is very disagreeable, and sometimes places 
 me in awkward situations. 
 
 But to return to my story, Dr. Clapp intends to profit by the 
 excellent example set him by an elder brother of the cloth, and 
 will soon be joined in the bands of Hymen to his beloved 
 Harriet, when he will bring her to the goodly town of Craw 
 ford, here to make up to her, by every means in his power, for 
 the trials and sacrifices, she has, for a series of years, been called 
 upon to make as the eldest sister in a large, and not very pros 
 perous family. 
 
 Poor Emily, I wonder when she will laugh again, as she did 
 when she related that to me. I must go and see if she is awake. 
 I have not heard the least sound from her room all the time I have 
 been writing. Ann carried Pauline about the garden until she 
 went to sleep, that the house might be quiet.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 " Nought shall prevail against us, or disturb 
 Our cheerful faith, that all which we behold 
 Is full of blessings." WOBDSWORTH. 
 
 Tuesday, June IQth. 
 
 LAST night when I sat writing busily, a hand was put upon 
 my paper. Starting up, I saw Frank with one of his very grave 
 looks. I hastily shut my desk. "How is Emily?" I asked 
 quickly. 
 
 ' " Emily is asleep ; and I thought you were, long ago. I really 
 must restrict you to certain hours of writing. Do you know how 
 late it is ? " He held his watch toward me, and to my amaze 
 ment it was near midnight. 
 
 " I took no note of time," I replied, " I was so absorbed in writ 
 ing. It is almost like talking with my own dear mother." 
 
 " Well," said Frank, touched a little, I suppose, by my sad 
 tone, " you shall write as much as you please, only don't take the 
 time from your sleep." 
 
 Tuesday Noon. 
 
 Dear, dear father, mother and sisters, how happy you have 
 made me by writing so soon. Frank came home in the mid 
 dle of the forenoon, and beckoning me out of Emily's room in 
 to my own, stood with his hands behind him, and asked, " How 
 many kisses will you give me for something I have brought 
 you ? " 
 
 He looked so pleased and mysterious, I could'nt think for an 
 instant what it could be. When I did, I gave a bound behind 
 him, and caught the letters before he was aware. " But," he sa ^ 
 I won't be cheated in that way. I'll sue you." I told him, I
 
 52 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 would give him a thousand kisses after I had read my letters. 
 My hands trembled so much with joy and excitement, that I had 
 difficulty in tearing off the covering ; when such a dear packet 
 presented itself, I almost danced with delight. 
 
 Frank looked as pleased as I did. I made him sit down while 
 I read dear father's letter, the last in order ; when I had finish 
 ed, Frank said, " I must tear myself away, and hear the rest after 
 dinner. My patients will wonder what has become of me. - 
 " But," he added with a very demure look, " can't you pay rne 
 part of my bill, and let me endorse it on the account ? " 
 
 I sprang up, and with my arms around his neck, gave him 
 such a shower of kisses, as certainly he never had from me be 
 fore ; and I sat down quite out of breath. 
 
 " There, now, I've found out what you can do ! " he said, laugh 
 ing merrily, " you have kept me on very short allowance herejo- 
 fore ; I never supposed you capable of such exertions." He then 
 slipped quietly into Emily's room, and soon I heard him drive 
 away. 
 
 Isn't he a darling, mother ? though I fear, it won't do to tell him 
 so, for he is getting really to think too much of himself. He 
 used to be so grateful for the least favor shown to him ; and 
 thought it such a privilege to be allowed to kiss my hand. Now 
 he grows more exacting in his demands ; and nobody knows what 
 he'll expect after this. 
 
 He heard of the arrival in New York of the packet ship 
 ' Eleanor," and has been watching the mail for my letters. 
 Caesar happened to-day to go to the office before him ; but Frank 
 drove rapidly home to have the pleasure himself of giving them 
 to me. All this Caesar was delighted to tell me, while his eyes 
 shone like two stars through a cloud. 
 
 The whole family sympathize with me in my joy at hearing 
 from my dear, sweet home. Even Emily brightened up a little, 
 as I read mother Lenox part of Bell's letter. She lies quietly in 
 bed, and says she is free from pain ; but she cannot make the least
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 53 
 
 exertion without fainting. Frank says, she has a slow fever. 
 The cottage is shut up ; and Ruth has come over to aid Phebe 
 while mother and sister are here. I feel very glad that Emily's 
 sickness occurred here. Mother says, it was all wisely ordered. I 
 know, she feels relieved at night by this arrangement. 
 
 Tuesday evening. 
 
 Frank says, I may write half an hour, to pay for my liberality 
 to him this morning ; and he will sit up and read his papers. This 
 has been an eventful day to me ; first my letters from home ; 
 then I had a note from Mr. Benson, informing me, that, situated 
 as he was, (with regard to Emily I suppose), he could not give 
 proper attention to the duties of his profession, and that as tutor 
 and companion, he had accepted an offer made him some months 
 ago, but then declined, of going to Europe Avith a young man. 
 
 What will Emily say ? 1 shall not be the one to tell her. I 
 read the letter silently, and then passed it to my husband. He 
 looked very, very grave, almost stern. 
 
 " Cora," he asked after a long pause, " do you think, Emily has 
 trifled with the affections of this young man ? "Women seem to 
 have an intuitive perception on such subjects." 
 
 " I think that she loves him far more than she will acknowl 
 edge ; but I don't believe, she ever gave much encouragement to 
 his suit. When I have been present, she has treated him with 
 indifference, almost with rudeness. Perhaps I ought not to ex 
 press a mere suspicion ; but I have thought, Emily's conscience 
 troubled her on account of the manner in which she treated him. 
 From her casual remarks, I fear, she dismissed him rather haugh 
 tily." 
 
 " Worse and worse," exclaimed Frank, with such severity, I 
 was almost frightened. " For one situated as she is, with regard 
 to wealth, to conduct herself in such a manner toward a gentleman 
 of his worth and education is really unpardonable. It would 
 sting him to the quick ; and I respect him all the more for the 
 
 5*
 
 54 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 course he has pursued. If she were poor and friendless, it would 
 not be half so censurable. But for her to take advantage of her 
 station to insult him pshaw I cannot bear to think of it." 
 
 " Oh, Frank ! don't speak in such a severe tone. I was wrong 
 to say what I did." 
 
 " Well," said he, hastily withdrawing his hand from mine, " I 
 wish, she were as ready to acknowledge her faults as you are," 
 
 " But it may be all my suspicion. I may not have understood 
 her aright." 
 
 What did she say ? " 
 
 I replied reluctantly, for he was already much excited. " She 
 did not say so in words. Only I received the impression, that she 
 had given him to understand, she was astonished, he should pre 
 sume to think, she would be the wife of a poor country clergyman.'' 
 
 " Cora," exclaimed Frank, starting up and walking across the 
 room. I burst into tears. I had never before seen him so excited ; 
 and I had no idea, he could look, or speak, so severely. It makes 
 me almost cry even now to think of it. 
 
 Frank just now says, " my love, you 've exceeded your time ;" 
 so good night, dear mother. 
 
 Wednesday, June 17 th. 
 
 My husband told me last night that a packet was advertised to 
 sail for Liverpool, and that probably it would need ballast, and 
 therefore it would be a good opportunity for me to send my journal. 
 It amuses him that I find so much to write about. He little im 
 agines how much I write respecting him, my lord and master. 
 He has never asked to see it ; he has too much delicacy to do 
 that. 
 
 Emily had a comfortable night ; and mother slept quite well, 
 and feels refreshed. I asked Frank, if Cajsar would be at liberty 
 to take me to ride this morning. 
 
 " Certainly," he replied, " I hope you will call upon him when 
 ever you wish. He will be proud to drive you." So I dressed my 
 little miss in her best suit, and having taken her in for a morning
 
 OR. REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 55 
 
 call upon aunt Emily, we started off in the cool of the day. I 
 wanted to return before the time for Pauline's " siesta" 
 
 As we drove down the hill, I asked Caisar if he knew where 
 Caroline Leighton lived. 
 
 " Oh, yes Missus ! I goes dere berry often for Mass'r Frank." 
 
 "And do you know where Mr. Lewis lives ? " 
 
 " De man what 's dying wid consumption ? " 
 
 Yes." 
 
 " Well den, I knows dat too. Where you go first, Missus ? " 
 
 " To see Caroline." As we rode on, I asked, " Can you spare 
 the time from your work to wait for me, and let Pauline sit in the 
 carriage ? I don't like to be in a hurry when a person is sick." 
 
 Good Cajsar's face fairly shone as if freshly anointed ; and he 
 replied, " I 'spects so, Missus. Mass'r Frank told me, allus leave 
 ebery ting, when young Missus wants to go. Mass'r Frank sets 
 mighty store by young Missus." 
 
 Just then we stopped at the gate ; and I was prevented the 
 necessity of replying to the complimentary speech, which, however, 
 being the conviction of his large, honest heart, gave me more 
 pleasure than almost any one, I ever received. He let down the 
 steps and lifted me out as if I were a wax doll. I verily believe 
 he wanted to take me in his arms and carry me to the house, as 
 he would Pauline. She wished to go with me ; but he sat in the 
 carriage holding her in his arms, saying, " mammy come back." 
 
 I had brought with me two beautiful bouquets, one for each of 
 my sick friends. With Caroline's in my hand, I knocked gently 
 at the door of her apartment, though I could have entered, as the 
 doors were open to admit the fresh air. She turned her head at 
 the sound, and was very much pleased at my early call. She said, 
 she would ring her little bell for her mother ; but I told her on no 
 account. Indeed, I was glad, she was alone. 
 
 I laid off my bonnet, saying as I did so, " You see, I intend 
 making a long cull." I then took a tumbler, and having filled it with
 
 56 COIIA AND THE DOCTOR ; 
 
 water from the pitcher on the table, I put the flowers in it and set 
 them near her. 
 
 She smiled, and seemed pleased that I made myself so much 
 at home. I drew a chair to the side of the bed, and taking her 
 thin white hand in mine, asked, " do you feel strong enough to talk 
 with me a little ? " She bowed assent. 
 
 " Does it not seem hard for one so young to be called to die ? 
 Do you feel willing to give up this beautiful world, your mother 
 and friends ? " 
 
 " Heaven is far more beautiful; " and she added, with a devout 
 expression, " my Saviour is there." 
 
 " How long, dear Caroline, have you loved the Saviour ? " 
 
 "With a deep sigh, and a look of profound sorrow, she replied, 
 " only a few months. Oh, what a hard heart mine has been ! 
 to turn for so long a time from a loving Saviour." 
 
 " Can you, without exerting yourself too much, tell me about 
 the change in your feelings ? " 
 
 " Has n't the Doctor told you ? " 
 
 " No, he said perhaps you would do so." 
 
 She closed her eyes for a moment, and then gave me the follow 
 ing account. " I lived a life of gayety and pleasure. The world 
 looked bright ; not only the things of nature, to which you referred, 
 but gay people, fashion and pleasure in every form. I suppose it 
 will do no harm for me to say now, that I was praised for my 
 personal beauty, and for my graceful manner. But I forgot that 
 " we all do fade as a leaf." Yes, I forgot it, though I had lost 
 two sisters, since my remembrance. 
 
 "In the unwearied pursuit of worldly enjoyment, all other 
 things faded from my mind. Yet there were times when con 
 science sounded an alarm, and the thought that perhaps I too should 
 be cut off, as my sisters had been, in the morning of life, made the 
 blood stagnate in my veins, and my heart cease to beat. 
 
 " I was a regular attendant at church, and one of the prominent
 
 OK, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 57 
 
 members of the choir. But I never listened to the sermons. I 
 studiously avoided hearing them ; especially when they treated of 
 death, the judgment, and eternity. I have often sat in church, 
 very devout in the eyes of those about me, but engaged in making 
 all my plans for the coming week ; and then quieted myself with 
 the thought that I had not sinned half so much, as if I had heard 
 the sermon, and not profited by it. I was often praised for my 
 regular attendance. Alas ! He who looks into the heart knows 
 I went to the sanctuary far more to exhibit myself, to hear people 
 say of me, ' how handsome ! what a fine voice ! ' than to worship 
 my Maker, who had bestowed these gifts upon me. 
 
 "About a year since, I took a violent cold upon my lungs. I had 
 previously felt languid and unwell, but would not acknowledge it 
 to mother, lest I should be kept from singing school, and places of 
 amusement. Soon after this, the Doctor was called, and never 
 was there a harder or more rebellious heart than mine, when he, 
 in the kindest, most fatherly manner, told me that the disease 
 would probably pi'ove fatal. It was not in the power of man, he 
 added, to effect a cure. He said that possibly I might be better, 
 and live for years ; but the disease was upon me and could not 
 be shaken off. 
 
 " That was the thought that twinged every nerve in my body. 
 I hated my Creator for making me" sick. I hated my physician 
 for telling me of it. I hated my parents and every one who be 
 lieved it. But oh ! I hated myself more than all, when I began 
 to see a little into my own heart. 
 
 " I had always been called amiable ; and I believed myself to 
 be so. But now I was actually frightened at the tumult of hard 
 and angry thoughts in my awakened soul. In the night, I fre 
 quently awoke, trembling with affright ; an angry God seemed 
 ready to consume me with his fierce wrath. This state of mind 
 continued with some abatement for several months ; and the con 
 flict of my feelings operated injuriously upon my health. 
 
 " One day your husband came in, when he could stop longer
 
 58 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 than usual. He sat down by my bed and tried to talk with me. 
 But I would not speak. I pretended not to hear what he said. 
 Some of his words, however, arrested my attention, and without 
 intending it, I turned my face toward him. He understood the 
 whole of my hardness and guilt. He asked me if I had ever 
 realized how great was the love of Jesus, who left the blessedness 
 of heaven, to suffer and die for us, and who having made atone 
 ment, now endures neglect and reproach from the guilty souls, he 
 came to save. It is human, said he, when man offers a favor to 
 his fellow, and is treated with neglect and scorn, to withdraw the 
 offer. But the Divine Lord who endures indifference, ridicule and 
 contempt, still says, ' Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy 
 laden, and I will give you rest.' 
 
 " Oh, those blessed, blessed words ! I listened as if I had never 
 heard them before. Was I not weary with wrestling with the 
 Almighty ? Oh ! was I not heavily laden with sins, more than I 
 could bear ? Why may I not come ? For the first time, tears of 
 real penitence filled my eyes, and with a subdued voice, I said, 
 ' Will you pray for me ? ' He did pray, as he had done many 
 times before ; but I never heard till then. He wept as he besought 
 God earnestly in my behalf. God in mercy answered. 
 
 " When he arose, Christ had taken my burden, and I was at 
 rest. I had never disbelieved the Bible. But now its truths 
 came home to my heart, and I was made free. 
 
 " Oh ! " she exclaimed, almost in rapture, " the goodness and 
 long suffering of God, to me a poor lost sinner." 
 
 The excitement of speaking had carried her beyond her strength ; 
 and as she lay with her hands clasped, and eyes closed, she looked 
 so pale, I feared she had fainted. But she presently opened her 
 eyes, while a heavenly smile played around her mouth. I kissed 
 her forehead ; but I could not speak. 
 
 Her mother, not hearing the bell for some time, looked into the 
 room to see if she were asleep ; but perceiving me, she returned 
 to her work.
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. I 59 
 
 " Dear Mrs. Lenox," said the sweet girl, " you '11 pray with me/ 
 I hesitated. " For your husband's sake, please." 
 
 I could not deny her, but saying I would return after a moment, 
 I left the room. I had seen from the window that Caasar had 
 difficulty in keeping the horse quiet on account of the heat and flies. 
 I told him to ride on a short distance and call for me in about ten 
 minutes. 
 
 When I returned, and was about to close the door, Caroline said 
 " no one will disturb us, and the room is very warm." 
 
 With my hand in hers, and my face on her pillow, I for the 
 first time addressed my Heavenly Father in presence of a fellow 
 creature. But I was not embarrassed. He who looks from above, 
 put words in my mouth and was near me. 
 
 As I arose and stood by the bed, I was startled by the moving 
 of a shadow ; and turning quickly to the door I saw my husband 
 standing on the steps with his face buried in his handkerchief. 
 
 Passing through this part of the town to visit a patient, he had 
 stopped this morning instead of returning here this afternoon. I 
 do not think he heard me ; and if he did, I ought not to feel 
 ashamed, when I dared speak in the presence of the High and 
 Holy One. But I must confess it. I felt for the first time in my 
 life sorry to see him. 
 
 " How came you here ? " he asked in surprise. 
 
 " You forgot you gave me permission to ride out" 
 
 " And Ca?sar, where is he ? " 
 
 " There," said I, pointing to the carriage, which was just stopping 
 at the gate. " You must not talk much with her," I said smiling. 
 " But you may talk a little to her if she will be very quiet. I fear 
 she has already had too much company." Promising to visit her 
 again as soon as possible, I went with Frank to the carriage, when 
 he returned to his patient. I found Pauline struggling hard to 
 keep her eyes open, and on consulting my watch, concluded to 
 postpone my call upon Mr. Lewis until another day. So I merely
 
 60 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 left the flowers in passing, saying to his wife that I would endeavor 
 to make him an early call. 
 
 " He has been lotting upon seeing you, maam. He says of the 
 two, you better understand his feelings, seeing you' ve had the 
 Bame." "We hastened home, where the sleepy girl was glad to 
 drink some milk and go to bed. 
 
 And now, dear mother, with remembrances of affection to the 
 dear home-circle, I close this part of my journal, which I hope 
 will interest you. I intend writing to Bell and Nelly in answer to 
 theirs just received. 
 
 Thursday, June 18th. 
 
 . I gladly resume my journal ; I feel lost without my writing. 
 Emily appears really better. Of course she knows nothing 
 of Mr. Benson's intended departure. I have not been able to 
 learn when he sails. He only says in his note, " as soon as his 
 arrangements can be made." Emily seems indifferent to every 
 thing ; and, when mother and I talk cheerfully, turns her face 
 away. But I have seen the tears trickle through her fingers when 
 she thought herself unnoticed. To-day, however, she is brighter, 
 and though not by any means as she once was, she appears to have 
 made her mind up to some course ; and to feel better for her de 
 cision. But this is mere suspicion. Time will show whether I 
 am correct. This afternoon she sat up in the easy chair more than 
 an hour, and amused herself with Pauline, who looked at her very 
 seriously at first, as if she did not quite understand all these 
 changes. 
 
 Early this morning, I begged a ride with Frank as far as Mr. 
 
 Lewis's, and told him my intention was to walk back. To the 
 
 'latter part of my proposition, he very unwillingly consented, as it 
 
 is half a mile, and the heat is great. But with my parasol I 
 
 thought I might venture. 
 
 Mrs. Lewis came into the little entry to receive me, and told
 
 OH, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 61 
 
 me in a low tone, her husband was failing fast, and she thought, 
 could not live many days. " He will be right pleased to see you. 
 He has set his heart upon it." I then followed her up-stairs to 
 the room. He is now wholly confined to the bed. 
 
 Every article of furniture, I observed, was scrupulously neat ; 
 and something in the appearance and conversation of the family 
 reminded me forcibly of the household of the Dairyman, as de 
 scribed in Legh Richmond's well known tract entitled " The 
 Dairyman's Daughter." There was an air of respectability, 
 /which is often felt, but which cannot easily be described. 
 
 Mr. Lewis was sitting bolstered up in bed. He could not 
 breathe when lying down ; and could only speak in a broken 
 whisper, with long intervals between his words. Sitting with 
 him was a married sister, who had followed him to this country, 
 and who had now come to remain with him until after the closing 
 scene. 
 
 I took my seat near the bed, and begged Mrs. Lewis to allow 
 me to pass him the cordial with which he was constantly obliged 
 to wet his lips. With a courtesy she thanked me and resumed 
 her sewing, while I addressed a few words to the poor sufferer. 
 
 " I am afraid you are too sick to hear me talk, you seem very 
 ill this morning. 
 
 " All peace here," he whispered, laying his emaciated 
 hand upon his breast. 
 
 I expressed very great pleasure that God had heard his 
 prayer, and asked whether he felt any of the fears with which he 
 was troubled at my last visit. 
 
 He shook his head ; and when I held the cup to his mouth said, 
 "I can trust him. He will do right." 
 
 This, then, was the source of his peace. My eyes filled with 
 tears as I quoted the passage of Scripture which came into my 
 mind. " Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose soul is staid 
 on Thee." I noticed that he looked exceedingly faint, and mo 
 tioned to his wife, who immediately held some camphor to his 
 
 G
 
 62 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 nostrils, saying as she did so, that he could take no nourish 
 ment. 
 
 When he revived, I thought I had better retire ; but he looked 
 wistfully first at me, then at his wife, who caught his meaning 
 and said, " He would like to have you read and pray with him 
 as the Doctor does." 
 
 I made no reply. What could I say ? She arose and gave me 
 an old, well-preserved family Bible ; and turning to the fourth of 
 Hebrews, I was just commencing to read about " the rest that 
 remaineth to the people of God," when a gentle knock at the 
 outer door called Mrs. Lewis from the room. I went on, how 
 ever, in compliance with a wistful look from the invalid, and 
 read through the chapter, having in the mean time come to the 
 conclusion, that if the sister would leave the room, I would try to 
 comply with the dying man's request. Just as I closed the book, 
 she stepped softly behind me, and desired me to go below for a 
 moment. Explaining this in a word to Mr. Lewis, I complied 
 with her wish. 
 
 Entering the lower room, I found Mr. Munroe, who had been 
 requested by the Doctor to call. I was much interested in the 
 account given by Mrs. Lewis to her pastor ; and which she nar 
 rated in language above her station. I have often noticed that 
 persons in humble life when speaking upon religious topics, are 
 elevated by their theme, and by their familiarity with the lan 
 guage of scripture. 
 
 Mr. Lewis was born of pious parents who early dedicated him 
 to God, and sought prayerfully to educate him in the fear of his 
 Maker. He had lived a perfectly moral and peaceful life, having 
 been able to support his family at least in comfort, until laid low 
 by disease. When he was unable longer to work, they had 
 moved to Crawford, as a place where his wife could find employ 
 ment for her needle. 
 
 They had three children, the girl and boy I mentioned, and 
 one between the ages of these two, who was at school. Mrs.
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OP A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 63 
 
 Lewis felt that her husband was a Christian, and had been, for 
 many years. But he was of an eminently timid spirit, distrust 
 ful of himself, and as he could not tell the exact time of his con 
 version, not having been exercised in mind like his wife, and 
 many others whose experience he had heard or read, he had been 
 unwilling to make a public profession of religion. He had, how 
 ever, been in the daily habit of secret prayer, and of reading the 
 scriptures ; had taught his children faithfully, not only the practi 
 cal duties of religion, but had endeavored to instil into their young 
 minds the sacred doctrines of 'the gospel, as he had been taught 
 them by his parents. 
 
 During the visit of the Doctor on Tuesday, the patient had 
 given evidence of a saving change ; and he had urged the sick 
 man to give glory to God, and to hope in his mercy. This 
 view of his case led the poor man to a train of reflection, which 
 ended in the calm but complete trust he put in his Heavenly 
 Father. 
 
 He had none of the rapture with which Caroline was some 
 times borne as on angel wings, to heaven ; but there were reasons 
 to hope he was as truly a monument of grace. At the Doctor's 
 last call, he had humbly but earnestly expressed a desire to 
 unite himself to the people of God, and to taste, at least, once on 
 earth, of that feast of which our risen Lord has said, " Do this in 
 remembrance of me." 
 
 The Doctor had requested our pastor to call and converse with 
 him upon this subject. I expressed my fear that the invalid was 
 too much fatigued; but Mr. Munroe said he should be very 
 brief. 
 
 I waited below for about ten minutes, when Mrs. Lewis invited 
 me to go up and join them in prayer. The regular season for 
 the administration of the ordinance here will be the first Sabbath 
 in July, but as Mr. Lewis will not probably live so long, it was 
 concluded to have the service privately administered to' him next 
 {Sabbath afternoon. Mrs. Lewis invited me to be present with
 
 64 CORA AND THE DOCTOR. 
 
 the Doctor, which I promised to do, and left accompanied by Mr. 
 Munroe, whose house lay in the same direction. 
 
 Mrs. Munroe has been absent ever since my arrival in Craw 
 ford, on a visit to her father's. I told her husband, I anticipated 
 much pleasure in her acquaintance. 
 
 He says, he is under great obligation to the Doctor, for inform 
 ing him of such cases as the one we had just witnessed. He is 
 still so much of a stranger in the place, he has not found out who 
 are the members of his parish. He enlarged particularly upon 
 the great aid it was to a clergyman, as well as upon the great 
 advantage it was to the town, to have a pious physician. He 
 said it was often the case when physicians were otherwise, that 
 they were unwilling to have a pastor visit their patients, vainly 
 imagining that they might frighten and injure them. Here he 
 said, he everywhere met with evidence of the Doctor's faithful 
 ness to the souls as well as to the bodies of those to whom he was 
 called. 
 
 This exactly accords with my own observation. I thank God 
 that he has made my dear Frank an instrument of good. 
 
 "As we were approaching Mr. Munroe's house, he said, " I have 
 been much surprised to hear that our neighbor Mr. Benson in 
 tends to leave his people, and to go to Europe. He said nothing 
 to me upon the subject," he added, " when I met him on Sabbath 
 morning. I should have supposed that he would have wished to 
 spend the last Sabbath among his own people. There is some 
 mystery about it." 
 
 I made no reply ; and after a pause, he inquired " Is he out of 
 health?" 
 
 " He certainly appeared so the day he preached," I replied. 
 I did my best to appear unembarrassed, but cannot say that I 
 entirely succeeded. He looked intently at me for a moment, but 
 said no more. 
 
 When I left him, he added, he should not be surprised if Mr. 
 Lewis did not live until the Sabbath, but he thought him pre 
 pared to die.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 " Give him not all his desire, so shult thou strengthen him in hope; 
 Neither stop with indulgence the fountain of his tears, so shall he fear thy firm 
 ness. 
 Above all things, graft on him subjection, yea in the veriest trifle." TCPPER. 
 
 Friday Evening, June ISth. 
 
 EMILY continues convalescent, and her eye begins to have its 
 former lustre. She has sat in the chair nearly all the afternoon, 
 while mother and I were sewing and Pauline played with her toys 
 upon the floor. I am more than ever convinced that Emily's 
 sickness is connected with her mental trouble. 
 
 I am likely to have full employment for my needle. Little 
 girls need so many changes, and Miss Pauline had none, on her 
 arrival, however large her wardrobe may have originally been. 
 Mother wishes to assist me ; but I declined her kind offer. 
 
 Poor little Pauline ! she had a hard time this morning, and so 
 did her mamma. We had quite a controversy ; but I will ex 
 plain. Caesar was going to market in the village ; and I told him 
 if he would take the carriage, I would ride with him, as I wished 
 to make a few purchases. 
 
 It is very warm ; and I did not think it best for Pauline to ac 
 company me, as she had generally done of late. She thought this 
 very hard, and began to cry. I stepped back, and said, " Aunty 
 sick ; Pauline mus n't cry," Avhen she fairly screamed, and showed 
 a very naughty temper. I saw there was to be a contest ; and I told 
 Cassar not to wait. " I must postpone my ride until another 
 6*
 
 66 CORA AND THE DOCTOBJ 
 
 time." Then taking her in my arms I carried her to a room the 
 farthest removed from Emily's, and laying off my bonnet, at 
 tempted to take her into my lap. 
 
 But no, she would not come to me. She ran across the room 
 and threw herself down on the floor, kicking and screaming. I 
 was astonished, and did not know what to do. I was afraid if she 
 cried so, she would make herself sick ; at the same time I knew 
 that she ought to be made to obey. It was in my heart to take 
 her up and coax her to be good; but this I knew would injure her, 
 and destroy my authority. In a low firm voice I said, " Get up, 
 Pauline, and come to mamma." She only kicked the more, and 
 screamed the louder. I had not supposed the child had half the 
 strength of limb or lungs. This was her first exhibition of temper. 
 Till now she had been uniformly yielding and mild, though to be 
 sure, as Frank says, this was the first time her wishes were ever 
 crossed. 
 
 I never was so perplexed ; and if Frank had been in the house 
 I should have left her with him, and ran off where I could n't 
 hear her scream. I kept repeating my commands ; but she paid 
 no attention, though I spoke as gently and caressingly as I could, 
 and asked her to be mamma's dear little girl. She would stop 
 screaming a moment and look at me ; and when I thought she was 
 going to yield, she would begin afresh. 
 
 I tried to think she did not understand me, and was thankful for 
 any excuse for her. But in this I soon found I was mistaken ; 
 for I told her to pick up a block and put it in the chair. This she 
 did readily ; then when I told her to come to me, she lay down and 
 began to kick and scream with all her might. 
 
 I left her on the floor, and calling mother out of Emily's room, 
 told her in a whisper my trouble, and asked her what I could do. 
 I even begged her to go in, and try her skill. But she said that 
 would not answer the purpose ; Pauline must be made to submit 
 to me, as her parent. She encouraged me by saying, " I once had 
 just such a contest with Frank ; but when he yielded, it was for 
 life."
 
 OK, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 67 
 
 I therefore returned to the room, with a heavy heart, where the 
 noise had entirely subsided. Finding, however, that she was no 
 more ready to obey, but had stopped from sheer exhaustion, I 
 kneeled by the chair, and asked God to give me wisdom and 
 strength for this emergency. And if chastisement were necessary, 
 I prayed that it might be administered in a right spirit. 
 
 I arose and took my seat. " Pauline," said I, " if you do not 
 come to mamma, she will have to punish you." She looked at me 
 earnestly, attracted by the tone of my voice, which was very de 
 cided; but she did not seem to know what punishing meant. 
 " Will you come ? " I repeated. She shook her head decidedly. 
 I went to her and taking her hand struck it with mine. Oh, dear, 
 how it made my heart ache ! Her lip quivered, and then she 
 burst out afresh. Both the command and the punishment, I had 
 to repeat five or six times ; but at length, when I resumed my seat 
 and asked, " Now will my little Pauline come to mamma ? " 
 
 She ran and threw herself into my arms. The contest was over. 
 I carried her back two or three times, and then called her, when 
 she readily obeyed. Now I could act out the impulses of my 
 heart ; I kissed her, and wept over her. Then I pressed her 
 tightly in my arms, while I told her mamma was sorry, her little 
 girl had been so naughty. She took her apron to wipe away my 
 tears, and seeing me still weep, she sobbed aloud. 
 
 When she became composed, I carried her to mother, where, 
 though her lip still quivered, she was Pauline again. She kissed 
 them all, and told them, " mamma sorry," which she repeated to 
 papa, and Ann. My grief made a great impression upon her ten 
 der heart. 
 
 I know, dear mother, you will sympathize with me in this trial. 
 I think, however, it will do the child good. Frank remarked at 
 dinner, that I looked very pale, and I certainly felt worse for the 
 excitement ; but he, and all the rest, rejoiced with me in the happy 
 termination. Pauline sobbed a long time after she was asleep ; 
 but this afternoon she has been like a little lamb, coming every
 
 68 CORA AND THE DOCTOR ; 
 
 time she looked up from her play and met my eye, to give me a 
 sweet kiss. 
 
 Saturday, June 20th. 
 
 This morning I went to the village, and though I trembled for 
 my daughter, lest the scene of yesterday should be repeated, she 
 behaved well ; and I promised her a ride this afternoon with papa. 
 Did I tell you, I had taught her to say " Papa ? " I had no idea 
 of being her only parent. 
 
 During the forenoon, I received a very pleasant call from Lucy 
 Lee, the daughter of Squire Lee, our richest citizen, who made 
 his money, as I have told you, by his distillery. She is a beauti 
 ful girl, modest and sweet in her manners, but looked to-day very 
 pale and careworn. My thoughts recurred to what I had heard 
 of her domestic trials. I was glad she was unaccompanied by 
 her brother, who is very disagreeable to me with his talk of " our 
 place, our horses, our store." It seems hardly possible that he 
 can be her own brother. 
 
 Lucy is said to be like her mother, now deceased. Joseph is 
 like his father, and has been so much indulged, especially since 
 his mother's death, that he is now the master. Emily says the 
 whole family are afraid of him ; and that Lucy, with whom she is 
 intimate, lives a very sad life in the midst of all their splendor. 
 
 I invited the dear girl to come to tea next week, to which she 
 cheerfully consented. I hope, by that time Emily may be down 
 stairs. 
 
 This afternoon I persuaded mother to take my place with 
 Frank for a drive. She has confined herself closely for the last 
 week. Pauline was delighted to accompany them, though she 
 did not like to leave mamma. I took my sewing into sister's 
 room, where we were soon busy in conversation. After a little 
 time, she interrupted me, as I was beginning a remark, " Cora, I 
 want to say something to you while mother is gone. I wish your 
 advice and assistance." 
 
 " Well, dear Emily, it is very easy to give advice ; " but while
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIPE. 69 
 
 I spoke, my heart began to beat very fast. I feared it would be 
 something about Mr. Benson, and then the truth concerning him 
 would have to be told. 
 
 Emily suddenly covered her face with her handkerchief, " 1 
 have treated him shamefully." 
 
 Who ? " 
 
 She looked at me as if she wondered that I should not know of 
 whom she was speaking, and could not bear to mention his name. 
 As I still looked inquiringly, she added, " Mr. Benson," and blushed 
 crimson. " He made proposals of marriage to me the evening after 
 our ride to Waverley, and I indignantly refused him. I treated him 
 as no lady should treat a gentleman under such circumstances, 
 even if she cannot love him. But I did love him ! I do love 
 him now ! ! " she repeated earnestly, again hiding her face. 
 
 ' Then why, dearest Emily, did you treat him so cruelly ? I 
 think you were very much in the wrong." 
 
 " I know it, I confess it," she replied, beginning to weep. 
 
 " I can't understand you, Emily. You loved him dearly ? " 
 She bowed her head ; u and yet refused him with scorn ? " She 
 bowed her head still lower. " Why ? " I again asked. 
 
 "Because," she said passionately, "he seemed so certain I 
 should make a courtesy, and say ' Yes, sir, I thank you.' I sup 
 pose he expected I should fall right into his arms the moment he 
 gave me leave. I loved him when he was away, yet there was 
 something in his manner toward me which roused all my pride, 
 and more ugly feelings than I knew I possessed. He showed his 
 love too openly, as if he were sure of success." 
 
 " I thought," said I with a smile, " that you wished the one you 
 married to be very loving and often assure you of his love." 
 
 " Pooh ! " said she, trying to laugh, " that was all my nonsense. 
 I would rather a dozen times, that he would be like Frank. 
 Now he almost worships you ; but he is not always talking about 
 it, and showing it in such silly ways." I now began to blush in 
 earnest But it is foolish to talk of all this now. The die is
 
 70 CORA AND THE DOCTOR ; 
 
 cast, and I have no one but myself to blame. I have been think 
 ing it all over, and have brought down my pride to asking his for 
 giveness for my haughty manner ; mind, I say for the manner of 
 my refusal. But it has cost me a hard struggle." 
 
 "What made you treat him so the night he called when you 
 were sick ? " 
 
 " I don't know," she replied, sadly ; " I believe I was pos 
 sessed with some evil spirit, If he had come in an hour earlier, 
 he would have found me humble enough." 
 
 " Did you expect him ? " 
 
 " I half expected he would call," covering her face to hide her 
 blushes. " But my mind was all worked up, and my head ached 
 so, and and I thought he'd think I was mourning for him. But 
 I've suffered enough for my foolish pride." 
 
 "Poor girl!" I thought ; "if she knew what I do, she would 
 suffer more." " Emily," said I, rising and taking her hand, " I 
 pity you sincerely ; but I cannot help telling you, I think you 
 have been greatly to blame." 
 
 " Well, I'm willing to hear that from you ; and I have ac 
 knowledged it." 
 
 " In the first place," I continued, " it was entirely your imagi 
 nation with regard to him. His manner, as far as I saw it, was 
 uniformly respectful and tender, perhaps too openly the latter to 
 suit my taste ; but not the least bordering on undue confidence 
 in your attachment. Indeed, I thought he did not sufficiently 
 respect himself, and was too distrustful. Then I can't understand 
 how you could love him, and yet give him such pain. You saw 
 how very pale he looked." 
 
 " Oh, don't repeat it ! I have thought of nothing else ;" and 
 the poor girl wept bitterly. Suddenly she looked up, as she 
 heard the carriage, and trying to wipe away her tears, said 
 quickly, " Kot a word of all this for the world. I want you to 
 charge of a note from me, and send it to him." 
 iVhen shall you write it ? "
 
 71 
 
 " Some time next week," she answered, putting her finger on 
 her lip, as she heard mother at the door. 
 
 I was glad to escape from the room; and ran down to take 
 Pauline from papa. My head was all in a whirl. I am glad I 
 did not promise secrecy, for I must tell Frank the first chance I 
 get. He will know what to do. 
 
 Sabbath Evening, June 21st. 
 
 I remained at home with sister this morning, while mother 
 went to church. It is a rainy day. I suppose we ought to be 
 thankful, for the earth was very dry and dusty ; but I do love a 
 pleasant Sabbath. This afternoon I went with Frank to church, 
 and from thence to the house of Mr. Lewis. Mr. Munroe and 
 Deacon Jackson rode with us, and after the horse had been 
 driven under a shed, we all proceeded to the sick room, the 
 deacon carrying with him a basket containing the sacred ele 
 ments. 
 
 One of the tenants of the house had opened her room opposite, 
 for the convenience of the company ; and I was surprised as I 
 passed up the stairs to see that it was crowded with people ; 
 many of them, I suppose, members of the church who came in 
 to unite in the ordinance. 
 
 A clean white linen cloth was spread over the table at the foot 
 of the bed, upon which Deacon Jackson placed two cups of wine 
 and a plate of bread, covering the whole with a napkin. In the 
 midst of intense feeling, I noticed all this, with pleasure, as evi 
 dence of the reverence and awe with which he handled the 
 elements which were to represent the body and blood of our 
 Lord. 
 
 The poor dying man, in clean clothing, lay on his bed with 
 everything about him spotless and white as snow. Though he 
 looked exceedingly pale, yet there was an elevation and glory in 
 his face, which showed that his soul had communion with his
 
 72 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 Saviour, and that the gracious Spirit was strengthening him for 
 this solemn occasion. 
 
 Though it rained very hard, yet the window near the bed was 
 open to give the poor man fresh air, while his wife stood near 
 him with a fan. I was affected to see that she had reserved two 
 seats near the bed for the Doctor and myself. Mr. Munroe occu 
 pied a place at the door that he might be heard in both apart 
 ments. Frank gently moved one of the chau-s toward her, 
 motioned her to sit in it, and stood by my side. 
 
 The solemn service commenced with an invocation, after which 
 the covenant and creed of the church were read, and heartily 
 responded to by the invalid, if I may judge from his rapt atten 
 tion ; then a short prayer consecrating the elements, which were 
 distributed. The Doctor took the cup from Deacon Jackson, and 
 gently raising the sick man, held it to his lips. There was truly 
 a sublime expression on his countenance. With uplifted hands, 
 he whispered, " Dear dear Jesus died for me 
 glory immortal GLORY ! ! " 
 
 In a moment the expression changed, and Frank, who was 
 closely watching him, stepped to Mr. Munroe, and told him he 
 feared Mr. Lewis would faint. The clergyman immediately pro 
 nounced the benediction, and requested the friends quietly to 
 withdraw. 
 
 I stepped to the backside of the room, while the Doctor opened 
 the other windows for a moment to change the air, and with the 
 help of strong restoratives, the patient soon revived, and was 
 able to swallow a little of the wine and water the Doctor had 
 prepared. I went toward the bed to bid him farewell, doubting 
 whether I should ever see him alive again. He looked at me 
 affectionately and gratefully, and pointed up, as if he would ask 
 me to meet him in heaven. I pressed his cold hand to my lips 
 and silently left the room. 
 
 Mrs. Lewis followed us to the door, where she to.ok Frank's
 
 OK, KEVELATIOXS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 73 
 
 hands in both of hers, and burst into tears. The most ardent de 
 sire of her soul for her poor dying husband had been realized ; 
 her prayers for years, answered ; and though he was to be taken 
 from her, she trusted she should meet him in a better world, to 
 part no more. 
 
 I was deeply solemnized and impressed by this scene. It is 
 the first time my dear husband and I have together tasted the 
 memorials of our Saviour's love. I think I shall not soon for 
 get it. 
 
 Monday Morning, June 22d. 
 
 Mr. Lewis breathed his last this morning soon after eight 
 o'clock. The Doctor reached there a few moments after, and 
 made all the arrangements for the funeral, which is to be on 
 Wednesday afternoon in the chapel near the church.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 " Oh ! 'tis the heart that magnifies the life, 
 Making a truth and beauty of its own'-' 
 
 \VORDSWOKTH. 
 
 Monday Evening. 
 
 EMILY is so much better, we think she can go down stairs to 
 morrow. As I have had no, suitable opportunity to talk with 
 Frank, I have avoided, when with her, the subject of our late 
 interview. 
 
 I went with my husband this afternoon to visit the most charm 
 ing old lady I have ever seen. I wish you could see her ; she is 
 over eighty, but just as fair as a young girl, and from her being 
 of full habit, she has scarcely a wrinkle on her face. She has the 
 most gentle, loving blue eyes, and her gray hair is nicely combed 
 down under a plain muslin cap. Many a young girl might be 
 envious of the beautiful peach bloom of her cheeks. But these 
 are not her greatest charms. It is her manner, her heart over 
 flowing with love to all. I believe everybody loves her, because 
 she loves everybody ; and she doesn't hesitate to show it. She is 
 the mother of Mrs. Squire Wilson, to whom the Doctor was call 
 ed for a sprained ancle. I could soon understand why he was so 
 pleased to take me there with him. 
 
 When she heard the carriage, Mrs. Low, or " Aunt Susy," as 
 every one calls her, came to the door, and shading her eyes from 
 the sun with her hand, stood looking until the Doctor alighted.
 
 REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 75 
 
 " Well now, Dr. Frank, that's you," (she had known him from 
 a baby,) " 1 reckoned you'd be here befoi'e long." 
 
 Frank led the horse to the steps and lifted me out. 
 
 " Who's that, now, you've got with you ? " she asked, looking at 
 me. 
 
 " Somebody else for you to love," said he laughing, for she had 
 taken possession of his hands. 
 
 She started, and holding me by the shoulders in a most loving 
 way, said, " La, now, Doctor ! this 'ere little thing don't b'long to 
 you, does she ? Is she your wife, I heard tell about ? " at the 
 same time she gave me a most hearty squeeze. 
 
 Frank laughed as he bowed his assent. 
 
 " I reckoned," she added, " you'd pick'd out one a proper sight 
 older'n this little gal, you was allus so stiff." 
 
 As she continued to press me in her arms, and then push me 
 off to look again, my husband began to look as if he was afraid 
 he never should get me away again. All this time with a true 
 delicacy, she had not kissed me, as if she were not sure I would 
 like to be kissed by so old a person. But I soon relieved her on 
 this point, and then we all walked into the sitting-room where 
 her daughter, who was evidently used to such scenes, was patient 
 ly awaiting us. After being introduced to Mrs. Wilson, whom I 
 recognized, (as I had met her at mother's levee,) the Doctor pro 
 ceeded to examine her ancle. Aunt Susy and I took seats on the 
 little sofa which was covered with bright chintz. She sat very 
 close to me, and with a press of my hand which she held, she mo 
 tioned with her head toward the Doctor, saying in "what she 
 meant for a whisper, " he's a real nice man to live with, I'll be 
 bound." I only laughed and nodded. 
 
 " Them stiddy ones, sometimes turns out the greatest rogues," 
 she continued in a comforting tone, " now I calculated, he'd court a 
 prim, proper kind of a woman, a reglar old maid, that'ud be com 
 pany for his mother ; but there's no telling what people will do, 
 times changes so, since I was a gal."
 
 76 CORA AND THE DOCTOK; 
 
 I was well convinced by the spasmodic motion about Dr. 
 Frank's mouth, that he was not so absorbed in the examination 
 of Mrs. Wilson's foot that he did not hear every word of this 
 confidential talk, I therefore thought, I would try to change the 
 subject of conversation. As I could think of nothing else, I told 
 her what a dear little girl I had found. She was almost breath 
 less with interest, and when I stopped she said : 
 
 " Now I never heard the cap to that ! Now do tell if you're 
 gone to keep her for your own, or if you're gone to kind o'make a 
 servant of her ? " 
 
 " Oh, no indeed ! " I answered quickly, " Frank loves her as 
 well, or almost as well as I do, and we have adopted her for our 
 own." 
 
 " And she's nothin to you, by blood I mean ? " 
 
 " Oh, no, we don't know whose child she is." 
 
 " Well, that is the beater ! " she exclaimed, and for the child's 
 sake I suppose, gave me another squeeze and kiss. 
 
 " Betsey," said she to her daughter, " Did you ever hear tell 
 what Dr. Frank's been and done ? " 
 
 " No, mother." 
 
 " Well, he'd no more'n got his little young wife safely housed, 
 than he was so impatient for a darter, that he went and picked 
 up one out of the streets, and gin to her to take care on." 
 
 The Doctor and I laughed heartily at this curious exposition 
 of our domestic affairs, while she evidently thought she had stated 
 the case exactly. She ended with, " There now, I never was 
 so beat. To think of Dr. Frank starting off on sich a rig. How 
 ever, I hope good luck'll come on't, and mabby you '11 soon find 
 out who the child b'longs ter." 
 
 " Oh ! no," said I, interrupting her, " that is the only thing I'm 
 afraid of, I couldn't give her up." 
 
 " Look there, now ! " said Aunt Susy, turning in surprise to the 
 Doctor, " an't it mazin how these young critters takes to chil 
 dren."
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OP A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 77 
 
 We both rose to go ; but she just took my hands, and set me 
 down again. " Sit right there, till I bring you some luncheon." 
 
 I told her I preferred not taking any ; but she would hear no 
 excuse. She went out into the kitchen, and very soon brought a 
 waiter, covered with a clean napkin, holding two tumblers of rich 
 milk, and some nice sponge cake. It was really delicious. Mrs. 
 Wilson addressed a few words to me ; but I was not at all drawn 
 to her as to her mother. The Doctor says she is a woman pos 
 sessed of a very good mind, and has been a great reader, but has 
 never had children to develop her affection and modify her 
 character. 
 
 When we had disposed of the lunch, and Frank had given his 
 directions to his patient, \ve prepared to take leave, receiving one 
 or two extra kisses, and a good squeeze of the Doctor's arm for 
 his part. 
 
 " Bring her here when you come again," said the old lady, 
 pointing to me. " She 's a pootty critter." Aunt Susy is a little 
 deaf, and seems to think everybody else so. " I think so too," 
 whispered Frank in her ear, loud enough for others to have the 
 full benefit, when, after receiving a loving pat on his arm, he 
 jumped into the carriage. 
 
 1 told the Doctor on our way home, how disappointed his old 
 friend was, that he had not married a more suitable person, one 
 that could be a companion both for him and his mother. He 
 laughed so heartily, that I had to hush him several times, for fear 
 some one would hear. 
 
 " Yes," he said, when he could speak, " I know who the old 
 lady wanted me to have ; but in the choice of a wife I intended 
 to suit myself. So if you are satisfied, I prophesy she will soon 
 be reconciled." 
 
 Now, my clear mother, if you have any idea from what I have 
 written, that Aunt Susy has anything coarse about her, I have not 
 described her well at all. She is truly refined in her feelings. I 
 wish all the ladies I have met in high life were as much so. She 
 
 7*
 
 78 CORA. AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 is a dear, old-fashioned, warm-hearted woman ; and it makes one's 
 heart warm just to hear her name. Mother says, her husband was 
 one of the most highly respected men in the state, a justice of 
 the peace, and lived independently on his farm, where he was 
 monarch of all he surveyed. Mrs. Low had cousiderable proper 
 ty which she has made over to her daughter, who takes care of her. 
 
 Tuesday, June 23d. 
 
 This has been a very warm day, and I have not been out of the 
 house, though I wished much to see Caroline Leighton. She is 
 quite comfortable again, and sits in her chair two or three hours 
 at a time. 
 
 Last night after we retired to our room, I told Frank I wanted 
 to ask his advice upon a very important subject. So we sat down 
 in the bright moonlight, while I told him about Emily. He said 
 not a word, but heard me with interest. I fancy he controlled 
 his feelings, as he frightened me so much the other night. " Now 
 you see, Frank," I said, "you did Emily injustice. She has ac 
 knowledged she did wrong ; and she intends to confess it to Mr. 
 Benson." 
 
 " Ahem ! " was all the reply. 
 
 " What can I do ? " No answer. 
 
 "After all," said he, starting up to walk across the room, it is 
 quite a triumph for Emily to confess her error to him. She has 
 her full share of the Lenox pride ; and we all have enough of 
 it. It must have cost her a great struggle. But that does n't help 
 the poor fellow. I should wish no farther acquaintance with a 
 lady who had treated me so rudely." 
 
 Frank seemed to be soliloquizing, and I interrupted him by 
 asking again, " My dear husband, what ghall I do ? " 
 
 " I can tell you, my love, what I shall do, very quickly," he re 
 plied, coming and taking my hand, while he kissed me repeatedly. 
 " I shall love you with all my heart for calling me by so dear a 
 name." I had never before addressed him as my " husband."
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 79 
 
 I felt very courageous in the moonlight, and said, " Why, Frank, 
 I understood you to say nearly a year ago, that you had lost your 
 heart. Have you found it again ? " 
 
 " Not exactly ; but I 've found the warmest, largest, most pre- 
 cious heart, to put in its place." 
 
 " But," said I after a moment, " to return to Emily. She in 
 tends writing a note, which she wishes me to send." 
 
 " I don't see how that can be done. We don't know where to 
 direct. Did he mention the name of the family he was going 
 with ? " 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Karswell, a merchant in New York. Mr. Benson 
 goes with his son, who has just graduated, or is about to graduate." 
 
 " Then I think we might reach him through his patron. Address 
 it to the care of C. M. Karswell I know the firm. Charles does 
 not leave college until sometime next month. I suppose arrange 
 ments will be made for them to sail soon after his graduation. I 
 will confess to not a little curiosity to read Emily's epistle. Will 
 she show it to you ? " 
 
 I think it doubtful," I replied.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 "He loved loved keenly; and he could not bow 
 To what seemed tyranny, and so he sought 
 His wonted happiness, at least the bliss 
 Of mutual tears, and vows of Jenderness, 
 Never to leave their loves, but always cling 
 To the fixed hope, that there should be a time, 
 When they could meet unfettered, and be blest 
 With the full happiness of certain love. PERCIVAL. 
 
 Wednesday, June 24th. 
 
 I FORGOT to mention last night that the services of the Doctor 
 had been requested at the Nabob's mansion, or " Lee Hall," as 
 Joseph styles it. In other words, when Frank went to his office 
 in the village yesterday morning, he found the following request 
 upon the tablet. " Will Dr. Lenox call at Squire Lee's residence 
 this forenoon, to afford medical advice and relief?" This was 
 written by Joseph in a bold flourishing hand.. 
 
 The Doctor called, and found Lucy was the patient. Patient, 
 she certainly was in one sense of the word, though not much sick. 
 Frank says, her trouble is beyond his reach. It is sorrow of heart. 
 Lucy has from a child been intimate with sister, and is of course 
 well acquainted with the Doctor. -When he kindly enquired the 
 symptoms of her complaint, she did not speak, but just placed her 
 hand upon her heart with a sorrowful expression. He asked if 
 there was nothing he could do for her relief. She shook her head
 
 REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 81 
 
 with such a woe begone look that he was deeply moved. He 
 could do nothing but recommend nourishing food, and free exercise 
 in the open air. He did not leave until she promised to fulfil her 
 engagement to take tea with us on the morrow, when he wishes 
 us, if possible, to cheer her spirits as the best means of restoring 
 her health. 
 
 Thursday, June 25th. 
 
 Directly after breakfast I went with the Doctor to see Caroline, 
 and spent a delightful hour in reading to her, and in conversation 
 on religion. The Bible and subjects relating to it are her meat 
 and drink. 
 
 Directly after my return, I wrote a note to Lucy Lee, begging 
 her to come to us at an early hour ; and in consequence of my 
 invitation, she made her appearance about three o'clock. We 
 were all moved by the expression of meek and patient endurance 
 upon her lovely countenance. 
 
 I purposely left her alone Avith Emily, for I thought that she 
 might talk more freely _with her, and perhaps find relief from her 
 sympathy and affection. I had just returned from the cottage 
 with Pauline, where mother was occupied with Ruth in preparing 
 for their return, when Emily requested me to go into her room, to 
 which she had invited Lucy, that they might be free from interrup 
 tion. 
 
 I found Emily in a state of great excitement, and poor Lucy 
 with her handkerchief to her face silently weeping. 
 
 " I say," exclaimed Emily passionately, " it 's a disgrace to the 
 town, for such a system of persecution to go on, as has been, and 
 is still pursued toward her," pointing to Lucy, Avho had not looked 
 up, "and not have it inquired into and prevented." Emily had, 
 for the time, forgotten her own trials, in her indignation at the 
 greater ones of her friend. 
 
 I sat down by the weeping girl, putting my arm around her 
 waist. She thanked me by a press of the hand, while Emily,
 
 82 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 who sat in a rocking-chair opposite, (she was too excited to keep 
 still a moment,) continued, " Only think, Cora, of that rascally 
 fellow Joseph." Poor Lucy looked imploringly. 
 
 " Excuse me,, poor girl ; but much as I love you, I have always 
 detested your brother. He has nothing of the gentleman about 
 him. But I never could have believed he would have acted so 
 cruelly." 
 
 I had been waiting in vain to hear the occasion of this ebullition 
 of feeling ; and I interrupted my indignant sister, by saying, 
 " You forget, Emily, that I know nothing of the circumstances." 
 
 She then gave me, in substance, the following narrative : 
 
 From a child, Lucy has been attached to Allen Mansfield. In 
 fact, they can hardly remember the time when they did not love 
 each other. While Mrs. Lee lived, all went on well ; and although 
 a very gentle, loving woman, she exerted a considerable influence 
 over her husband, and persuaded him to consent to their early 
 betrothal. Allen's father, Mr. Mansfield, is a merchant in this 
 place, carrying on a prosperous business ; and, at the time of their 
 engagement, his son was considered, in point of wealth, a suitable 
 match for Lucy. Allen was everything her mother desired ; 
 honorable, upright and virtuous, of generous heart, and noble 
 principles. More than all, he and his beloved were united in the 
 most enduring tie of Christian friendship, and had together made 
 a public profession of religion. 
 
 Since that time, however, Squire Lee, by means of his horrible 
 traffic in ardent spirits, has added house to house and farm to 
 farm, until he has been easily persuaded by his son, that his only 
 daughter ought to look higher in her choice of a husband. Not 
 that brotherly affection was so strong in Joseph. Dislike to Allen 
 was his ruling motive. They had been schoolmates ; and though 
 from love to the gentle sister, Allen had tried to show, at least, 
 kindness to her brother, yet he could not always conceal his dis 
 pleasure at Joseph's conduct. A slight or neglect this haughty 
 young man never forgot. He only waited his time to make sure
 
 OR, KEVELATIOXS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 83 
 
 his revenge. Since Allen's intimacy with the family, he had in 
 deed treated him with outward politeness ; yet he hated him on 
 account of his strong, and oft expressed disapprobation of the 
 course he was pursuing, and the character of his companions. In 
 this way he had gradually worked his mind into such a state, that 
 there was no calamity too great for him to visit upon Allen, had 
 it been in his power. 
 
 Such was their relation, when it occurred to the poor drunken 
 creature, (for no less was he a drunkard because his wines were 
 imported from Europe at four dollars a bottle ; and his Cogniac 
 the best which could be obtained,) to revenge himself upon Allen 
 by depriving him of Lucy. He neither thought, nor cared for 
 the sorrow it would cause her loving heart. He went to work 
 with a zeal worthy of a better cause. By speaking in a disparag 
 ing tone of him to his father, he gradually led him to view the 
 young man as no longer suitable in rank or station to be allied to 
 a daughter of their house. 
 
 Poor Lucy ! At first she gently tried to defend her lover from 
 inuendoes, and insinuations which her brother took care should be 
 in such general terms, they could not be met and refuted. Every 
 one is aware how much worse than an open accusation are impli 
 cations like the following: "If I were to tell what I know, 
 Allen Mansfield would be hooted out of good society. He is 
 called clever, but I would n't ensure his honor nor his virtue." 
 
 It was not strange that Squire Lee, who had long suffered him 
 self to be guided ; nay, almost governed by his son, and who was 
 much enfeebled in mind by the free use of brandy, determined to 
 break the match, nor that he one day, when he had drunk so much 
 that he could hardly stand, almost broke her heart by commanding 
 her to dismiss Allen, or he himself would do it. 
 
 The wretched girl had had many doubts and misgivings 
 whereunto these things would grow, and had shed many bitter 
 tears in secret; but as she had no idea of the extent of her
 
 84 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 brother's malice, nor of the strength of his determination upon 
 revenge, she had never conceived so dreadful a result. 
 
 For a week, she was obliged to keep her bed, being almost 
 overwhelmed with sorrow. Dear girl ! the thought never entered 
 her mind that it could be possible to resist so unjust a sentence. 
 Allen, however, was of different temperament. Naturally gentle 
 and kind, yet when his indignation was roused, he had the'courage 
 of a lion. 
 
 Having heard that Lucy was sick, he hastened to inquire for 
 her. It so happened that he went to the house when Squire Lee 
 was alone, and more than usually under the influence of reason. 
 Though he forbid his visiting Lucy, or having anything more to 
 say to her, as he expressed it, yet he did so in a less offensive 
 manner than on the occasion of his interview with his daughter. 
 
 The consequence was that the young man did not feel called 
 upon to obey him, but in a day or two called again, having waited 
 in vain for an answer to several letters, he had written to Lucy. 
 On this occasion, however, his visit was not so well timed. Joseph 
 was with his father, who had not yet recovered from his heavy 
 potations of wine and brandy at dinner, and who, therefore, was 
 easily strengthened by his son in his cruel purpose. 
 
 A dreadful scene ensued. Allen, whose heart-interest was at 
 stake, determined, for the sake of her whom he loved, to be re 
 spectful to her father. But he was not prepared to withstand the 
 perfect torrent of wrath which burst upon him. When he entered 
 and inquired for Lucy, Joseph sneeringly said, " My sister shall 
 never marry a mean scoundrel like you." 
 
 Paying no attention to this, which, however, made his blood 
 boil, he turned to the old gentleman, saying, " You surely cannot 
 be in earnest in trying to separate your daughter and myself. 
 Your deceased wife was my friend ; and she as well as yourself 
 gave a ready consent to our union." In the midst of his wrath 
 Squire Lee was a little softened by the tone and manner of the
 
 OK, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 85 
 
 young man, as well as by the mention of his wife, whom he had 
 loved next to himself. He was about to speak more kindly, when 
 Joseph, perceiving his intention, interrupted him. 
 
 " Lucy Lee will be an heiress ; no wonder you are loath to give 
 up her wealth." 
 
 Allen turned deadly pale from suppressed emotion, but con 
 trolling his feelings, said, " Squire Lee, I ask again the hand of 
 your daughter. I will gladly take her without one farthing of 
 your hoarded wealth." 
 
 Joseph whispered something in his father's ear, who replied, 
 "all very fine, young man very fine talk" (hiccough) "indeed; 
 but you can't have her. You see " (hiccough) " we've," with a 
 cunning look at Joseph, " other views for her." 
 
 Allen could contain himself no longer, and in a terrible voice 
 denounced both father and son as inhuman and brutal in their 
 conduct. " The time will surely come," he added, " when you 
 will bitterly regret your cruelty toAvard her, and your abuse of 
 me." 
 
 "VVei-e these prophetic words ? 
 
 Joseph, who was beside himself with rage, flew at Allen, and 
 aimed a violent blow at his head, which the young man dexterously 
 warded off. 
 
 Poor Lucy, who had been attracted by the noise below, sprang 
 from her bed, and having thrown on a loose robe, rushed wildly 
 into the room. All stood for one moment speechless with aston 
 ishment at her presence, and frightful pallor. She threw herself 
 at her father's feet, begging him not to break her heart. She 
 frantically invoked the spirit of her departed mother to inter 
 cede for her, but alas ! to no effect. Squire Lee sat motionless 
 while Joseph in a fury rang the bell, and said to the porter, " turn 
 that rascal out of the house." 
 
 Allen, seeing there was no hope for him or his dearly beloved 
 Lucy, suddenly caught her in his arms, held her for one brief mo 
 ment to his breast, bade her farewell, and left the house. There
 
 86 COKA AND THE DOCTOU ; 
 
 was a sincerity in his grief, a dignity in his manner, which made 
 even the hard hearts of both brother and father quail. 
 
 Here at Emily's request, Lucy continued the narrative. " I 
 cannot remember what immediately followed ; but when I recov 
 ered my consciousness, I was in my own room. Mrs. Burns the 
 house-keeper, almost my only friend and confidant, stood bathing 
 my hands and face. From that time I gave up all hope of hap 
 piness with Allen, though he has never ceased to write me the 
 most tender letters, urging me not to despair, but to hope on, and 
 hope ever." 
 
 " Love in the earnest mind is not a dream, 
 To fade in sorrow, or grow dim by age, 
 But a most true outpouring of the soul ; 
 A pledge of faith, that looking from the past, 
 And through the present sees beyond it all 
 Hope unaffected by earth's weary change." 
 
 " I have never written in reply, but have sent messages of un 
 changeable and undying love. I begged Mrs. Burns, through 
 whom alone we could communicate, to tell my dear Allen, that 
 though I could not marry him in defiance of my father's com 
 mand ; yet I would not marry another. He would never cease 
 to be dearer to me than life." 
 
 The distressed girl wept so much, that Emily resumed. Weeks 
 passed on, and Joseph encouraged by her passive obedience, be 
 gan to think he could now bestow her hand to his own advan 
 tage. 
 
 Among the vile acquaintances which he had formed in a neigh 
 boring city, was Mr. "William Arnold, a man about thirty years 
 of age, of whose elegant dress and accomplishments Joseph was 
 never tired of talking. He was often at the house, and Lucy 
 from an instinctive feeling of dislike avoided him as much as pos 
 sible. She was obliged to meet him at the table, and to treat 
 him with civility as a guest. She says she has sometimes ques-
 
 OK, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIANS WIFE. 87 
 
 tioned herself as to the ground of her prejudice against him. He 
 is tall, of an elegant figure, and very free, easy manners. He 
 converses well, and has rendered himself a favorite with the old 
 gentleman ; but there is a look in his eye which she says cannot 
 be trusted. Then the fact of his being so intimate with her 
 brother is strongly against him. 
 
 But when Mr. Arnold began to exhibit a fondness for her soci 
 ety, and whispered soft nothings in her ear, she says " she abso 
 lutely loathed him." 
 
 " His passionate eye," exclaimed Lucy, starting from her seat 
 in great excitement, " actually makes all my bones to shake. I 
 would willingly. have confined myself to my room ; but this I was 
 not allowed to do. My father," she added with a deep sigh, " no 
 doubt instigated to such a course by my brother, commands me to 
 appear, as he says whatever company he chooses to invite to the 
 house is only too good for me. I pined and wept in secret, but 
 was required to appear cheerful in the presence of my now 
 avowed admirer." 
 
 With a look of horror, the wretched girl said " I had rather die 
 than marry him." She acknowledged, however, that she dared 
 not openly resist her brother's wishes. " When he has been drink 
 ing he is " she checked herself, " very unlike a brother," and 
 she shuddered with fear at the thought. 
 
 " I am willing to give up Allen, though he is so very dear to 
 me ; but why need they force me to marry this vile man." She 
 said when the Doctor called she longed to ask his advice ; but 
 fear restrained her ; and then she knew it could do no good. This 
 was said almost in a tone of despair. 
 
 In her indignation, Emily was for sending a police officer to 
 take father and son and lock them up in jail. I was silent from 
 astonishment ; I had known of cases in France where children 
 were forced to marry against their will ; but can it be so, thought 
 I, in this free country ? Why then this boast of liberty ? 
 I am so much interested in this sweet girl that I have given
 
 88 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 you a full account of her trials, embracing what was told me 
 during this interview, and what I learned from mother and Frank 
 after her departure. I gave the poor girl all my sympathy, while 
 Emily was very free with her advice, some of which from Lucy's 
 shake of the head, I foresaw it would be difficult, if not impossi 
 ble, for her to follow. But we both urged her to be firm in 
 refusing to give her hand to one whom she did not respect, and 
 therefore could not love. In this advice we were joined by my 
 husband and mother. 
 
 After she left, we sat late talking about Squire Lee. I gath 
 ered from what they said, that when the old gentleman first came 
 to the village, he was a poor boy, and was employed as a clerk 
 in a grocer's store. Being a shrewd, active lad, he had worked 
 his way up to be a partner in the firm. Then he married his 
 partner's daughter, at which time they increased their business, 
 and built their distillery. This proved so much more profitable 
 than their grocery, that they sold out their store and devoted 
 themselves entirely to the manufacture of New England rum. 
 
 When his father-in-law died, the whole manufactory and trade 
 fell into his hands ; and now he is possessed of great wealth. It 
 was certainly known that many houses and farms had passed into 
 his hands ; and that a large number of families had been reduced 
 from independence and comfort to beggary through their connec 
 tion with this ruinous business ; this soul-killing establishment. 
 
 Frank said his father had often remarked the deplorable 
 effect this traffic had upon the mind and character of his neigh 
 bor. From being apparently a kind hearted man, he had gradu 
 ally become hard, unfeeling and inhuman. Mammon and Bac 
 chus were his gods. Personal ease and domestic tranquillity, 
 neighbors and friends, family and home, his body and his soul, he 
 had sacrificed to these divinities. 
 
 Friday, July 3d. 
 Great preparations are making for the celebration of the
 
 OR, REVELATIONS 0V A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 89 
 
 Fourth of July, which is the anniversary of the national inde 
 pendence. 
 
 1 really think Lucy's visit has been of service to Emily by 
 taking her mind from herself. She gave me a sealed note to-day 
 directed to Rev. Frederic Benson, which Frank has enclosed in 
 a wrapper to Mr. Karswell. 
 
 Saturday, July kth. 
 
 On many accounts this has been a trying day to me. I sup 
 pose I do not yet feel patriotic enough to bear the noise patiently. 
 This morning we were awakened with the first streak of light, by 
 the booming of cannons on a neighboring height. My poor little 
 Pauline screamed and cried. When I took her from her crib 
 into my bed, her teeth chattered from her affright. I tried to talk 
 with her and soothe her ; but in truth I had as much as I could 
 do to calm myself. The continued roar made me tremble so 
 much that I could easily sympathize with the frightened girl. 
 
 Doctor Frank expressed much sorrow for us, and would gladly 
 have prevented it, if possible ; but he said there was no help for 
 it but patience. He comforted both Pauline and myself, by say 
 ing he would hurry through his morning calls, as he has no very 
 sick patients, and take us all out into the country beyond the 
 reach of the noise. 
 
 After an early dinner we started to rid ourselves of the noise of 
 cannons and bells, which were to commence again their tumult at 
 noon. We had a delightful ride and picnic in a grove. We 
 carried cold chicken, ham and condiments in a basket, and spread 
 them out on a cloth under the trees. Pauline forgot all her 
 troubles, and amused us much by her gayety. She danced and 
 tried to sing in her delight. 
 
 When she was tired, she went to Frank and turned her back 
 for him to lift her up. He pretended not to know what she 
 wanted, so as to have the pleasure of hearing her say, " please, 
 papa, take Pauline." It is really amusing to watch them to-
 
 90 CORA AND THE DOCTOR. 
 
 gether. She goes quite as a matter of course to him when he 
 sits in the library, and asks him to " take her," waiting patiently 
 for half an hour, it may be, for him to finish reading his paper. 
 Then she is sure of a frolic. 
 
 It often makes me laugh till the tears run down my cheeks, to 
 see him dancing about the room, with Pauline perched upon his 
 shoulder, holding tightly to his hair. It is fortunate for the 
 young miss, it is curly, else her hold would not be quite so firm. 
 I wonder what Madame Le Row or Mademoiselle Blanche would 
 say to see Dr. Lenox, "the graceful, refined, but rather too 
 serious Dr. Lenox," capering about the room in that style. 
 
 " He will not blush that hath a father's heart, 
 To take in childish plays a childish part."
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 ''If a soul thou would'st redeem, 
 And lead a lost one back to God ; 
 Would'st thou a guardian angel seem 
 To one who long in guilt hath trod, 
 Go kindly to him, take his hand 
 With gentlest words within thine own, 
 And by his side a brother stand, 
 Till all the demons thou dethrone." MKS. c. M. SAWTEK. 
 
 Monday, July 6th. 
 
 THIS afternoon, I rode out with Frank to visit an elegant resi 
 dence, about three miles distant. The house stands on an 
 elevation, and has a beautiful lawn in front, descending toward 
 a small lake or pond ; on the shore of which stands a neat but 
 tasteful boat-house, with accommodations for boating or fishing. 
 
 I saw a young girl rowing herself in a light skiff. She ap 
 peared to me to be about to upset every minute ; but Frank told 
 rne it was an Indian canoe, which, being very light, can be pad 
 dled about with great ease and safety. 
 
 On our return, a woman came to the door of her house and 
 requested the Doctor to call at Jones's, where a child was sick, 
 intimating that she wished to say something more, but did not 
 like to do so in my presence. I immediately proposed to alight 
 from the carriage and proceed to the house of the patient, which 
 was but a few steps distant. 
 
 Both the outer and inner doors were open, and nothing could 
 be more appalling than the sight presented to my view. The 
 room itself was capable of being made comfortable, if proper
 
 92 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 care had been bestowed upon it. But at present poverty and 
 filth ruled without restraint. 
 
 The sick child lay upon a tottering bedstead, which was 
 covered with pieces of carpet, torn quilts, or anything which 
 could be procured from the floor or elsewhere. A part of an old 
 rag-mat was fastened by two forks to the window at the side of 
 the bed, to serve the double purpose of keeping out the wind and 
 light, as there was hardly a whole pane of glass. 
 
 Chairs without backs, and a table under which a barrel had 
 
 ^ 
 been pushed to serve in the place of a missing leg, made up the 
 
 inventory of the furniture. On the floor, in the farther corner, 
 lay the remnant of an old straw bed, and upon it was stretched 
 in brutal unconsciousness of all around him the father of the 
 family ; the husband of the woman who was weeping over the 
 sick child. 
 
 I announced myself as the wife of their physician, and was 
 received by her in a way which led me to suppose she had seen 
 better days. I felt of the little hand, lying over the side of the 
 bed, and found it burning with fever. The sufferer lay with her 
 eyes and mouth partly open, and her hair in a tangled mat about 
 her face and neck. 
 
 " How long has she been in this stupor ? " I asked, as the child 
 took no notice of me. 
 
 " Since early in the morning." 
 
 "And have you given her no medicine ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ! I have tried to force down a little spirit ; but her 
 teeth seemed set, so that she could not swallow." 
 
 I was never more rejoiced than to see Frank enter, as he did 
 at this moment. He bid the woman get him a clean cloth, and 
 some warm water. The latter she procured from a neighbor's 
 kitchen, while a part of an old apron sufficed for the former. 
 
 The Doctou. then proceeded to bathe the face, neck, and arms 
 of the child. Afterwards he administered a cooling draught, 
 which the poor, parched mouth eagerly swallowed. He forbade
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 93 
 
 Mrs. Jones to give her any spirit, and left, promising to bring 
 powders for the night. 
 
 As \ve rode home, my heart was full of admiration of my hus 
 band, while shame, that disgust had rendered me useless, and 
 pity for the suffering family, alternately occupied my mind. At 
 length, sympathy prevailed, and I said, " Frank, I shall watch 
 with that sick child to night." 
 
 " Not for the world ! " he replied, quickly ; and then continued, 
 more calmly, " The child will do well enough ; or rather, she will 
 not be the one to require most attention. I wish she were away 
 from there ; but I hardly think," he added, after a pause, " it will 
 do to remove her." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " I asked. 
 
 " Did you not see the man lying in the corner ? He is a poor 
 drunken fellow ; and, if I'm not mistaken, will require more care 
 than the child. I shall engage Mr. Ferris, a kind neighbor, to 
 watch with them." 
 
 Perceiving my interest, my husband gave me a short account 
 of the family, which he had known from childhood. " When 
 Esther Holmes was married, her father furnished everything 
 necessary for comfortable housekeeping. She had received a 
 good common education, had been a few terms to an academy, 
 and every one thought her well and happily settled in life. 
 
 " Her husband, Thomas Jones, is the son of pious parents ; a 
 capable man at his trade, and fully equal to supporting his family 
 in comfort. He earns, at times, a good deal of money ; but it is 
 all spent for rum. Never was slave more under the influence of 
 a tyrannical master, than he is under the power of his incessant 
 appetite for intoxicating drink. 
 
 " In his Bacchanalian revels and fits of fury, he has broken and 
 destroyed the furniture until now scarcely a piece remains. 
 Sometimes, after an attack of delirium tremens, he endeavors to 
 reform, and works steadily for two or three months. But then 
 he is again overcome, and drinks worse than ever. His wife has
 
 V4 CORA. AND THE DOCTOR ; 
 
 gradually lost all hope, and seems to give up and let everything 
 <TO. I fear she does not try to make home comfortable and 
 pleasant to him, when he is himself. Everything is filthy in the 
 ixtreme. It is only as a matter of stern duty that I can sit 
 Jown in the house. 
 
 " For a day or two Jones has been sick, but he drinks all the 
 lime, he is awake ; and I fear he will be wild to-night. It makes 
 me sick at heart to think of him. He has some noble traits ; but 
 rum, rum, has changed him from a kind husband and a tender 
 Tather into a creature worse than a brute. 
 
 Tuesday, July 7th. 
 
 About midnight a messenger came for the Doctor to hasten to 
 Jones. The watchers could do nothing with him. He raved and 
 swore that devils were at the foot of the bed, waiting to catch his 
 soul, and cany it to hell. Frank went at once and did not return 
 until near daylight. At breakfast, he relieved my anxiety for the 
 sick child, by saying, she had been removed to a room in the other 
 part of the house, and was now much better. But Thomas, he 
 said, had passed a dreadful night. He had seemed to suffer the 
 torments of the lost. He enumerated his sins from his childhood, 
 disobedience to his parents, Sabbath breaking, profanity, intem 
 perance, and almost every form of iniquity. These came up to 
 his remembrance with the distinctness of the judgment. Then 
 he told how he had turned from the Saviour, refused His offers 
 of mercy, quenched the Spirit's influence, ruined his own soul, 
 and the souls of his wife and children, all, ALL for RUM ! ! 
 
 This he screamed out ; and when those around tried to soothe 
 him, he said that he would scream so loud that every drunkard in 
 town could hear. " If ten thousand devils pursue me," shrieked 
 the insane man, " I will warn all to beware of RUM ! ! " 
 
 His attendants listened in wonder, and even Frank was aston 
 ished, as he had never heard him talk in this way before. Nor 
 could he understand it until this morning, when Mrs. Jones told
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. ^6 
 
 him that they had been to hear the new minister preach ; and it 
 appears their consciences had been aroused by his faithful presen 
 tation of truth. 
 
 Afternoon. 
 
 As Frank would not consent to my visiting little Susan, I con 
 tented myself with making her some nice porridge which Ann 
 carried to her. My husband came in soon after, and told me two 
 men could not hold Thomas in bed ; and they had been obliged to 
 confine his arms. He knows no one but his physician ; and this 
 afternoon appealed to him in a hoarse whisper, " take them off," 
 pointing to the men who stood at the side of the bed. " Oh, hide 
 me ! Hide me ! they tear my soul ! 
 
 The Doctor motioned them out of sight, and tried to soothe 
 him. " Thomas," said he in a calm voice, " do you remember when 
 you and I went to the Sabbath school ? " 
 
 " Yes, oh yes ! " gasped the poor fellow. 
 
 " Where did Mr. Goodrich tell us to flee for safety ? " Thomas 
 looked up eagerly, but made no reply. 
 
 " He told us to go to Christ. He would save us from all our 
 enemies." 
 
 " If he would but take me ; but oh, he wont ; he wont ! I 've 
 been too wicked ever to expect that," and hiding his head under 
 the clothes, he cried aloud. Frank succeeded in persuading him 
 to take some medicine, which the attendants could not do, because 
 he thought they meant to poison him. He was calmer before 
 Frank left. 
 
 Thursday, July 3th. 
 
 Last evening, my dear husband hurried through his calls, and 
 took Mr. Munroe with him to see poor Thomas. He found him so 
 exhausted by the violence of his fits, that, unless soon relieved, he 
 cannot live long. The agony of his mind makes him much worse
 
 96 CORA AND TIIE DOCTOR; 
 
 than ever before. When they went in, he had fallen asleep, and 
 they sat down quietly to wait until he awoke. Frank says, as he 
 sat by the bed and looked at the miserable man, so haggard and 
 ghastly, he prayed that God would have mercy upon his soul, even 
 at the eleventh hour. 
 
 When Jones awoke, he stared around him a moment, as if try 
 ing to remember where he was, while the Doctor quietly liberated 
 his right hand, with which he immediately covered his face. After 
 he had taken some gruel, he sighed, but would not speak. 
 
 Frank told him Mr. Munroe had come in as a friend to see 
 him. He suddenly pulled away the clothes, and said, " No, he '11 
 mock me ! He knows how wicked I am ! The last time I went 
 to meeting he told over all my sins. He knows I can't be saved, 
 and he '11 only mock me." Here the poor creature burst into loud 
 crying. 
 
 Mr. Munroe moved nearer, and took Thomas's hand in his ; " My 
 poor friend," said he, in a very gentle voice, " It would ill become 
 me, a sinful creature as well as yourself, to make a mock at one 
 for whom Christ died. J have come to remind you of his love, 
 of his desire for your salvation. He has knocked at the door of 
 your heart again, and again, and you have turned away from his 
 pleading voice. Will you? dare you turn fi'oni him now? 
 When the Holy Spirit is striving with you, will you resist his 
 gracious influence ? " 
 
 He was interrupted by loud sobs, and Mrs. Jones, whom they 
 had not perceived, hastened from the room, holding her apron to 
 her face. Thomas had not noticed the interruption, but was look 
 ing so intently at Mr. Munroe that the Doctor almost feared the 
 excitement, and placed his fingers on the brawny wrist. 
 
 But our good pastor perceived the workings of the spirit, and 
 hoped and prayed that peace and joy might take the place of the 
 dark despair which was killing body and soul. 
 
 No one spoke, but still Thomas gazed. His whole mind was
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 97 
 
 filled with wonier. At length, he gasped, rather than spoke, " I 
 will, 1 will receive Him as my Saviour, but oh, it is too late ! " 
 
 The last words were spoken in such a tone of utter wretched 
 ness and despair, that his hearers could not refrain from tears. 
 
 " Thomas," asked Mr. Munroe, " Do you remember the thief 
 on the cross ? Up to the moment of his conversion he had proba 
 bly reviled his Lord. Take care then that you do not limit the 
 power of the Almighty, whose voice of mercy saith ' He will save 
 to the uttermost all that come unto Him.' He also adds for your en 
 couragement, 'though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white 
 as snow ; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.' " 
 
 The poor man looked from one to the other, as if exhausted by 
 the dreadful conflict within him, and said in a broken voice, " you 
 will not deceive me with hope, when God has left me to despair." 
 
 Frank said, " While there is life, there is mercy if you will 
 believe ; " and not wishing to prolong the interview, they knelt in 
 prayer. The poor wife came in. and threw herself down at the 
 foot of the bed. Mr. Munroe in a fervent manner commended 
 them to God. 
 
 He prayed that from eternity they might look back upon this 
 hour as the most blessed of their lives, as the hour when they had 
 chosen Jesus for their Saviour, and heaven for their everlasting 
 home. Before he arose from his knees, the poor humble penitent 
 said, in a voice choking with tears, " Lord, I believe. Have mercy 
 upon my guilty soul ! " Mrs. Jones sobbed aloud. 
 
 From earth to heaven the tidings flew, 
 Two guilty souls are born anew. 
 
 Friday, July lOt/i. 
 
 This morning Doctor Frank has been to see Thomas. I waited 
 with no little impatience for his return. He found his patient 
 decidedly better, though very weak. He had but one fit during 
 the night, and that much less severe in its character. He had a 
 
 touching expression of humility which made him look like a 
 
 f 
 
 different man. He has most clear views of the sinfulness of his 
 
 9
 
 98 CORA AND THE DOCTOK; 
 
 own heart, and of the abounding grace of God in providing a Re 
 deemer for one so vile. 
 
 Frank was much pleased with one expression he used ; " I dare 
 not hope that God has accepted me ; but I feel willing to be in 
 his hands. He knows what is best for me. I feel safe to trust 
 him, and think when he sees how strong my desire is to do right, 
 he will help me." 
 
 Oh, that Thomas may be able to withstand temptation, and to 
 bring forth fruits meet for repentance. I hope Christians will 
 encourage him and pray for him. I was grieved this, morning to 
 hear a professing Christian speak distrustfully of the change in 
 poor Thomas, and say, " persons in delirium tremens, are often 
 very pious, but when they recover, their goodness vanishes like 
 the morning cloud, and early dew." 
 
 Surely it is infinite condescension in God to visit the abode of 
 drunkenness and filth with the rich blessings of salvation ; but 
 who can doubt his ability, and willingness to do it ? 
 
 Monday, July 13th, 
 
 I have not been quite well for a day or two, and have only re 
 ceived permission to write a few lines. Frank blames himself for 
 allowing me to do so much ; but I have really done nothing which 
 could injure my health. The weather was very warm yesterday. 
 I lay upon the bed the greater part of the day. Frank insisted 
 upon staying from church to nurse me In the afternoon. He was 
 obliged to visit his patients in the morning. It is quite sickly 
 now in the town, especially among children. May God preserve 
 our dear little Pauline ! 
 
 After her return from church in the afternoon, madam Phebe 
 came to my room to make inquiries about my health. 
 Well, Phebe," I asked, " Did you enjoy the sermon ? " 
 " Oh, yes, missus, ole Phebe hab blessed time. Mass'r Munroe 
 quite undo hisself dis yer day." 
 
 " Out do you mean," said I laughingly.
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIPE. 99 
 
 " Laws missus ! dere aint no kinder difference. He go long 
 farder in the broad road dan I eber heard him afore. I 'spects, 
 I'se can stand de meanin if I'se don't use de right words." 
 
 " What was the text ? " 
 
 " Dere now, I'se can't jist tink ob de text all in a minit. It has 
 popped right off all in a suddent, but 'twas a blessed un, all bout 
 God." 
 
 " Well, Phebe, if you can't remember the text, you can tell me 
 about the sermon, it pleased you so much." 
 
 " Oh, yes, missus, pleased me berry much, powerful good dis- 
 coors dat ar. Wall now, how kinder curis dis yer chile, can't jist 
 tink ob nothing, only jist when don't want ter. Now I declar," 
 said the perplexed woman, putting her hand to her head, " when 
 I 'se getting de supper de hull discoors 'ull come pouring into my 
 ole brain, when I can't no way stop to 'tend to it." 
 
 " Can't you tell me the subject ?" I asked, trying to repress my 
 mirth. 
 
 " Oh, laws, yes, missus, 'twas all bout piousness, and serousness, 
 dat 's de idee. I 'se glad," she added complacently, " I 'se got 
 some o' my senses left, 'twas a blessed discoors dat ar." 
 
 Tuesday, July 16th. 
 
 Dear Mother, I am up and dressed for the first time since 
 Monday. I feel a general prostration of the system. My hus 
 band ascribes it to over excitement. Nothing could surpass the 
 kindness of every one in the house. I fear Frank will make 
 himself sick from anxiety. He returns home once or twice in the 
 forenoon, runs to my chamber for a few minutes, and then off 
 again to another part of the town. Phebe does wonders in her 
 line, trying to make something " Missus will relish a bit." She 
 complains that I do not eat enough to keep a canary bird alive, 
 and indeed I have not much appetite. Frank would not allow 
 me to arise until after dinner, when Ann came in with a dish^ 
 which would be very tempting to a person in health. I readily
 
 100 CORA AND THE DOCTOR. 
 
 recognized the kind hand which selected it for me. The breast 
 of a fat pigeon, with a nice slice of crisp toast, and an excellent 
 cup of tea. I almost relished it. 
 
 While I sat in bed bolstered by pillows with the waiter before 
 me, madam Phebe came from the kitchen to pay me a visit. She 
 wished to see with her own eyes why I did not eat.
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Low at his feet his daughter lies ; 
 
 Dear father, let me stay ! 
 But no, the cruel wretch replies, 
 
 Away, begone, away ! 
 
 His heart was crusted o'er with years 
 
 Of guilt, and shame, and sin; 
 But still his wretched daughter cries 
 
 Oh ! father, turn again ! 
 
 I '11 give up all I 've dearly loved, 
 
 On thee my cares bestow; 
 With scorn the gray-haired sire thus proved 
 
 His hate. Go, daughter, go ! 
 
 Friday, July Ylth. 
 
 I FEEL a little stronger to-day. My husband came in yester 
 day while I was writing, and put his lordly veto upon my penning 
 another word. I asked him if he had heard anything more from 
 Lucy, or had received an answer from Mr. Benson. 
 
 He shook his head and said, " your first business is to get well." 
 I think Emily is disappointed in not hearing from him ; and she 
 must be surprised that he does not write, as she supposes him to 
 be only three miles distant. She asked me in a whisper yesterday 
 if I had sent her letter. I told her, I sent it at once, and asked, 
 "Has he replied?" 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 9*
 
 102 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 " He may be away, and not have received it," I suggested. " I 
 think," I added with hesitation, " I remember to have heard he 
 was going a journey." She brightened at once, and I turned 
 away from fear lest she should ask more. I am glad to have es 
 caped her scrutiny. 
 
 Friday, July 24th. 
 
 It is a week since I wrote you, dear mother. How I have 
 longed to have you with me ! I shall soon begin to expect another 
 packet of letters. I desire to tell you about poor Emily ; but my 
 hand trembles so much,.I don't know that I ought to enter upon it. 
 
 On Monday last I felt stronger than I had done for a week or 
 two. Frank lifted me in his arms, and carried me down stairs 
 for a short drive. The air was delightful, and I returned much 
 refreshed, and invigorated. I wanted to walk up stairs, for fear 
 Frank would injure himself carrying me. Caesar stepped eagerly 
 forward ; but the Doctor only laughed, and said, " No, Cresar, I 
 claim this privilege, I can carry her as easily as I could carry a 
 child." 
 
 I felt quite an appetite for my dinner, and was resting in my 
 easy chair after it, when Emily came up to my room and walked 
 toward me in such a calm, unnatural manner, I looked at her in 
 alarm. 
 
 She seemed to be changed into marble, so colorless and rigid 
 were her features. She silently put an envelop in my hand. I 
 did not recognize the writing, but opened it, and took out a note, 
 which, though written almost illegibly, either from emotion or haste, 
 I saw was from Mr. Benson. It contained but few words, which 
 were exactly these : 
 
 " M-iaa Le-ncufc, 
 
 " Beloved Emily, 
 
 " I have this minute received your 
 note, which has completely unmanned me. 
 
 " I am already on my way to Europe, where I shall probably
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 103 
 
 stay several years ; and where, until the last few minutes, I had 
 hoped to spend the remainder of my life. It is only by the kind 
 ness of Captain B I am permitted to detain the pilot, while 
 
 I write these few words. 
 
 " We are already out of the channel. May God bless and for 
 give us both ! Dearest, farewell ! 
 
 "FREDERIC BENSON." 
 
 Saturday, July 25th. 
 
 I must finish telling you about my dear sister. Frank told 
 mother as he came into my room, he should have thought that I 
 was the one who had received sad tidings; for I sat holding 
 Emily's hand tightly in mine, while the tears were streaming 
 down my cheeks. Emily was calm and unmoved. I don't 
 know holv she feels ; but she appears to be petrified. This 
 appearance made such an impression upon me, that I had a 
 dreadful dream after it. I sprang out of bed with a horrible 
 shriek, thinking my distressed sister was insane, and I was trying 
 to save her from some impending clanger. 
 
 The next morning Frank looked very grave, and I heard his 
 voice in the next room conversing with mother. The result of 
 which conversation is, that she and Emily have gone for a few 
 weeks to a town about a hundred miles distant, to visit some 
 relatives. 
 
 In all the arrangements, sister was entirely passive, exhibiting 
 neither unwillingness, nor interest. I hardly thought she could 
 have left me so coldly. Not a muscle in her face moved as she 
 kissed her farewell. Her hand remained passive in mine, and 
 was cold and clammy. I know her brother is very anxious 
 about her ; and I expressed my fear that he had sent her away 
 on my account. 
 
 " The journey will do her good," he replied. 
 
 Monday, July 27 'th. 
 Pauline is taking nice care of me, while Ann is busy about
 
 104 CORA AND THE DOCTOH } 
 
 her morning work. The dear little thing is so proud to do any 
 thing for mamma. Sometimes she tries to help too much. After 
 Ann curled her hair this morning, she accidentally left the brush 
 on the dressing table. Pauline soon espied it, and stepping softly 
 across the room made herself look like a fright. Her hair needs 
 to be wet before it can be combed, and now being brushed when 
 dry, it stood out like a broom all over her head. I told Ann not 
 to laugh so much, lest the child should be encouraged to do it 
 again, and should give us great trouble. 
 
 I asked Frank this morning, if he thought Lucy would come 
 and sit with me. I feel rather lonely without mother or Emily, 
 as I can neither read nor write but a few minutes at a time. He 
 answered, " No ! " decidedly. 
 
 " I want to see somebody," I said. 
 
 " How should you enjoy a visit from Aunt Susy ? " 
 
 I almost jumped from my chair. This made him decide at 
 once that she would not do. He said " You must rest, mind and 
 body, in order to get well." 
 
 Tuesday, July 28(h. 
 
 Yesterday afternoon I had arisen from my bed after a refresh 
 ing nap, and was seated in my easy chair by the window, when 
 Frank came up stairs talking with some one whose voice I did 
 not recognize, until she said, " I had hoped ere this to see thee at 
 our house. Thee must come before Elizabeth goes ;" and Friend 
 Estes kindly advanced toward me, " I am truly sorry to see thee 
 ill, my dear." 
 
 I tried to rise, and take her bonnet ; but Frank said, she was 
 his company, and he would do the honors. He took the friendly 
 " poke," and carried it to the bed, where he spread a napkin care 
 fully over it. 
 
 I looked in surprise ; but the good lady smiled as she said, 
 " Thy husband is well acquainted with friendly ways." 
 
 " I am sorry to leave such good company," he said, " but I have
 
 OB, KEVELATIONS OE A PHYSICIAN'S WIPE. 105 
 
 work enough for the afternoon." He was just leaving the room, 
 when she detained him a moment, to ask whether Thomas Jones 
 had recovered, and whether his family were in need of assist 
 ance. Frank replied that Thomas would soon be able to go to 
 his work ; until then, they were supported by charity. 
 
 There is something composing and soothing in the very 
 voice and manner of the Friends. Certainly this is true with re 
 gard to my dear Friend Estes. 
 
 " Does thee like to have thy hair smoothed, my daughter ? be 
 cause I should love to do it for thee." 
 
 I said, I should like it very much, if she would let me sit 
 before her, as I used to sit before my dear mother. She brought 
 me a cricket, and I sat down and laid my head in her lap, where, 
 for nearly an hour she passed her smooth hand lovingly across 
 my forehead and hair. At the same time she discoursed so 
 sweetly, that the afternoon passed too quickly away. If her con 
 versation had not been so interesting, I should certainly have been 
 lulled to sleep. 
 
 She told me of her daughter Elizabeth, who is soon to be mar 
 ried to a worthy young man every way approved by her parents, 
 and the meeting. 
 
 " Is she to marry a Quaker ? " I asked. 
 
 " Yes. He is now of our persuasion ; but he was not educated 
 so. He became a Friend by ' convincement.' The wedding is to 
 
 take place in P ." And she invited us to be present, kindly 
 
 offering me a seat in her carriage, if Frank could not spare the 
 time to accompany me. 
 
 Before she went, she said something which sent the blood to 
 my cheeks, but which makes me so happy I must tell you about 
 it. I was sitting with my head in her lap, looking up into her 
 kind face, when she remarked, "Thee has a kind, loving 
 husband." 
 
 " yes ! I cannot think of one thing in which I should wish 
 him to be different." She smiled a moment, and then said, " I
 
 106 COKA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 am pleased thou art so well suited. Would thee like to hear 
 what he said of thee ? " 
 
 " 0, please tell me ! " I said, before I thought, and then my 
 cheeks burned. I hid my face and added, " If you think it would 
 be proper, and he would like it." 
 
 She laughed merrily at my embarrassment, as she said : " I 
 presume, dear, he has told thee the same, many times. He said, 
 ' If I had searched the world through, I could n't have found one 
 so exactly suited* to my idea of a true wife.' He concluded, being 
 quite warmed with his subject, ' She is a perfect little darling, and 
 I thank God for her every day of my life.' " 
 
 O, mother, you can't tell how happy she made me. I could n't 
 lift up my head for a long time, for fear she would see the blissful 
 tears. She kissed me tenderly, and when she left, my mind was 
 fully determined on one point, if I ever am sick and need a 
 nurse, I shall desire of all others a Friend, if I can get one any 
 thing like her. 
 
 I know, dear mother, you will be glad that your Cora has not 
 so far, disappointed the expectations of her husband. 
 
 Friday, July 31s/. 
 
 Miss Proctor is here, spending a few days with me. I enjoy 
 her society exceedingly. As we sat together in my room, I did 
 not like to spend the time in writing. This afternoon Csesar has 
 driven her in the carriage to Lee Hall, and Pauline accompanied 
 them. 
 
 I sent Lucy a magnificent bouquet, which Caesar made me for 
 the occasion, with a little note expressing my affection and 
 sympathy. 
 
 I had a call from Mrs. Jones this morning. Frank Font her 
 here to see Miss Proctor, who is making some clothes for the 
 children. 
 
 She appears truly humble and devout. Thomas has nyt tasted 
 a drop of spirit since he recovered, and is now beginning to work.
 
 OK, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 107 
 
 She took Miss Proctor's advice very kindly with regard to 
 neatness and economy ; that her husband might feel that he 
 had a respectable and decent home. She said, " I have now 
 more heart about him than I have had for many years, because 
 he distrusts himself and looks above for help and strength." 
 
 Monday, August 3d. 
 
 Lucy Lee sent by Miss Proctor a note requesting me, if able, 
 to call upon her in the course of a few days ; and if unable, 
 begging me to ask the Doctor to call. He went early this after 
 noon, when she showed him a letter, she had received from Allen, 
 and asked him what she should do. 
 
 The letter stated that Allen, feeling a strong desire to know the 
 character of the man, rumor had affianced to hisLucy\had placed 
 himself in the way of one of Joseph's associates, an old school 
 mate, who had told him some astonishing facts. These, Frank 
 only related to me in brief, and, indeed, would have wholly kept 
 from me if possible. 
 
 When Mr. Arnold was first introduced to Lucy, it had not oc 
 curred to her brother to force him upon her acquaintance. But 
 when that gentleman told him of his love for his beautiful sister, 
 and solicited his cooperation and influence in winning her hand, 
 lie had willingly consented, out of hatred to Allen. While, 
 however, Arnold's passion increased, her aversion became every 
 day more evident, until, in a fit of exasperation, he had made a con 
 tract with her brother, that on the day she became his wife, he, 
 as her husband, would make over to him one half of his property. 
 This contract Allen's informant was called upon to witness. 
 
 The reason of Joseph's cruel determination to force Lucy to a 
 marriage with his friend was now evident. Allen begged her to 
 be firm in refusing to be sold in so vile a manner. 
 
 The Doctor requested to see Joseph, being determined to ap 
 peal to his affection as a brother, and his honor as a gentleman, 
 if, indeed, he had any such feelings. But he was informed that
 
 108 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 he had gone with Mr. Arnold to the city. Frank then advised her 
 to embrace this favorable opportunity to impart to her father her 
 decided refusal to marry Mr. Arnold. With this advice poor 
 Lucy, with a shudder, promised to comply. She is too fearful. 
 
 Tuesday, August 4th. 
 
 I long to hear from Lee Hall. If I do not in a day or two, I 
 will try to persuade Frank to allow me to call there. 
 
 To-day we received wedding cai'ds from Dr. and Mrs. Clapp. 
 I shall take an early opportunity to visit them. "We also received 
 a letter from mother, and can you believe it ? Frank almost re 
 fused to let me read it. I felt so hurt, I could only say, " Dear 
 husband, would you like me to conceal anything from you ? " 
 
 Without another word, he read it aloud. Emily remains ex 
 actly as she was when they left ; neither better nor worse ; she 
 talks, walks, and acts like an automaton. 
 
 Mother fears insanity. She says this state cannot last much 
 longer, a reaction must take place. She closed with the kindest 
 messages to me, and particular inquiries about my health. 
 
 <l Frank," I said, when he had finished, " will you please to do 
 me a great favor ? " 
 
 " Certainly, my love, I shall be most happy to do so." 
 
 " Well then, please write to mother at once, and ask her to 
 bring Emily home. I know she longs to do so ; and I am almost 
 well now." He hesitated what to reply. " You have promised," 
 I said. 
 
 " Well, be it so," he answered, " but I am convinced that it is 
 not safe for a man to promise so blindly." 
 
 "Blindly ! a wife ! oh, Frank ! I would promise to do any 
 thing in the world, you might ask. I have such entire confidence 
 in you, I know you would not ask me to do wrong." 
 
 He looked very, very much pleased and drew me to his side. 
 " Dear Cora, you have unconsciously given me the strongest 
 proof of entire love ; but I do not deserve it, though I shall
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 109 
 
 endeavor not to forfeit so precious a token of your affection. This 
 is the feeling, sweet wife, we should cultivate toward our heaven 
 ly Father. He knows what is best for us ; and it is safe for us to 
 confide in him. He sometimes leads us through dangerous 
 paths. Let us trust Him, though clouds gather and break over 
 our heads." 
 
 Thursday, August Qth. 
 
 We were aroused from sleep last night by a thundering knock 
 at the door. Frank threw up the window, when a man called 
 out, " Doctor, won't you come as quick as you can to Squire Lee's. 
 He's had a fit, and they think he is dying." Frank dressed and 
 was gone in a moment. I could not sleep, but lay revolving in 
 my mind Lucy's situation. I thought how I should love to offer 
 her a home, where Allen Mansfield could come to see her. I 
 went through all the marriage ceremony, thinking what a lovely 
 bride Lucy would make when the heavy cloud had passed away, 
 and her heart was free from sorrow or care. 
 
 Frank did not return until after I was seated at the breakfast- 
 table. He looked very serious and only shook his head in an 
 swer to the question, whether the old gentleman was better. " He 
 will probably never be better." I was shocked. " And Lucy ? " 
 I inquired. 
 
 " She has passed from one fainting to another." 
 
 " Horrible ! But how is she now ? " I really shuddered at the 
 thought that she might not be living. 
 
 " She is conscious, but very much exhausted." After prayers 
 he took my hand as he sat by me on the sofa. " Cora," he ask 
 ed, " can you control your feelings ? " 
 
 I quickly answered that I could, and would. 
 
 " Squire Lee received a letter from his son which so enraged 
 him against his poor innocent daughter, that he sent for a lawyer 
 to his office and disinherited her unless she would consent to marry 
 Arnold, and that too without delay. With this legal document in 
 
 10
 
 110 CORA AND THE DOCTOKJ 
 
 his hand he summoned her into his presence, where with horrible 
 oaths, he told her what he had done. 
 
 " She begged him to allow her to take care of him in his old age. 
 She would promise never to see her dear Allen ; but she could not 
 consent to marry Arnold. She had rather die. She threw herself 
 at his feet, when he cursed her and spurned her from him with 
 scorn. A heavy fall caused Mrs. Burns to rush into the room. 
 She had followed her dear young mistress to the door and had 
 heard all that passed. 
 
 " The sweet girl was insensible. The kind woman rang for 
 Jacob the porter ; and they lifted her gently, and carried her to 
 her bed. Her father soon after was seen going to his room. 
 
 " About eleven o'clock, one of the servants was passing through 
 the apartment next that which he occupied, when she was startled 
 by loud snoring. She stopped to listen, when finding it continue, 
 she hastily called the housekeeper, and together they entered the 
 room. The Squire lay in what seemed to them a heavy slumber ; 
 but they could not arouse him. The sound was like the snorting 
 of a brute, more than like the breathing of a human being. 
 
 " By this time they were thoroughly frightened, and sent in 
 haste for the Doctor." 
 
 Immediately after he had told me this, he returned to the 
 wretched house, wretched in the midst of luxury and splendor ! I 
 waited in vain for him to return to dinner, but received a note 
 toward night, telling me not to be alarmed, if he did not return 
 until morning. Lucy was rather better, but would not consent to 
 his leaving the house, while her father lived. He would probably 
 not survive many hours. 
 
 Dr. Clapp called in the evening, and told me he had received 
 a hasty note from the Doctor, requesting him to take the care of 
 his other patients, with a list of those upon whom it would be ne 
 cessary to call. 
 
 Friday, August 7th. 
 Contrary to the Doctor's expectations, Squire Lee is still liv-
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S "WIFE. Ill 
 
 ing ; and there is slight hope that he may be better. Frank pur 
 sued the most vigorous course of treatment; applying cups to the 
 temples, and blisters to the back of the neck. He left him in a 
 natural sleep. 
 
 Lucy has been carried to the room where she sits near the 
 bed. She wishes to be near him when he recovers his conscious 
 ness, hoping before his death that he may revoke his dreadful 
 curse. 
 
 Tuesday, August llth. 
 
 Mother and Emily returned last Saturday, and as mother 
 feared, a terrible reaction has taken place. Sister is now as ex 
 citable as she was impassive. She laughs so merrily that the 
 sound rings through the house. Then with as little reason, she 
 weeps violently. I led Pauline to the cottage to try and amuse 
 the poor girl ; but the little creature was afraid of her aunt, and 
 clung convulsively to me, if Emily tried to force her from my 
 arms. There is a dreadful wildness in her eye, which alarms 
 me. 
 
 Squire Lee is so much better, Frank is of opinion that, if he 
 lias no relapse, he will soon be able to leave his bed. Lucy is 
 with him constantly; indeed he cannot bear her out of his sight a 
 moment. Sometimes he mistakes her for her mother, and calls 
 her " wife," and " Mary ! " 
 
 The Doctor has insisted that he shall have watchers, so that 
 she may have regular sleep ; and that she shall take exercise in 
 the open air, at least an hour every day. Joseph returned Sat 
 urday, but as the Doctor would not allow him to go into the sick 
 room, telling him he would not be responsible for the conse 
 quences, the young man left again for the city early Monday 
 morning. 
 
 Frank also told him, Lucy had informed her father of her de 
 termination not to marry Arnold. Joseph swore dreadfully, that 
 she would be the death of her father yet. All his object now was
 
 112 
 
 CORA AND THE DOCTOR. 
 
 to see if " the old fellow," as he called him, had acted upon his 
 suggestion. 
 
 Mrs. Burns had picked up the paper which lay upon the floor, 
 after the dreadful interview between father and daughter, and 
 having glanced at its contents, and seen that he had indeed left 
 every cent of his property to Joseph, was strongly tempted to 
 destroy it ; but knowing she had no right to do this, she carefully 
 locked it in a private desk where she had sometimes seen her 
 master put his papers, and kept the key. She told Frank of the 
 fact, who strengthened her in the resolution to restore it to no one 
 but her master. 
 
 After Joseph's departure on Monday, however, it was ascer 
 tained beyond a doubt, that he had taken the desk with him.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 " No, I'll not weep ; 
 
 I have full cause for weeping ; but this heart 
 Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws, 
 Or ere I'll weep ; fool, I shall go mad! " 
 
 SHAKSPEARE. 
 
 Thursday, August 13th. 
 
 DEAR MOTHER, Yesterday was a fearfully exciting day. 
 About noon mother Lenox came over from the cottage to go 
 back with Emily. 
 
 I asked where sister had gone. She looked at me with fright 
 and wonder. " Emily," she exclaimed, " started for the house 
 early this morning, purposely, as she said, to see her brother be 
 fore he went out upon his calls." 
 
 " She has not been here to my knowledge," I replied. We in 
 stantly went to the kitchen to ascertain whether Phebe or Caesar 
 had seen her. Caesar was absent ; but neither Ann nor Phebe 
 had seen anything of their young mistress. We were now really 
 alarmed, and waited with impatience for Frank's return, while 
 the women searched the house and grounds. 
 
 Caesar was soon heard coming up the hill with the wagon, 
 when his wife ran to meet him. He stopped the horse to hear 
 what she was in such a hurry to say, but mother beckoned for 
 him to come to the door. He said " I'se heb seen missus 'bout 
 seven or it might be nigh upon eight. She be all dressed out for
 
 114 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 de walk, and was g'wine down de hill. I'se stopped de wagon, 
 and axed missus if I'se go back and take de carriage and carry her 
 where she was g'wine. But missus say no, she only g'wine on a 
 piece for ole missus. She 'peared in mighty hurry," ended the old 
 man. 
 
 Mother went back to the library, sat down in a chair, and cov 
 ered her face with her hands. " I will send Ccesar to find his 
 master," said I, earnestly. 
 
 Phebe, however, had anticipated me, for when I heard Ctesar, 
 as I thought, drive to the barn, he had only turned back and 
 gone to the office in the village. In a very few moments, we 
 heard Frank's welcome voice. I sprang to meet him and led 
 him to our distressed mother. 
 
 " Emily is gone ! " she repeated after me ; but oh ! I cannot de 
 scribe the mournfulness of the tone. 
 
 " Dear mother, don't be alarmed," he said, in a cheerful voice, 
 " I will soon find the runaway and bring her back." I looked 
 earnestly at him to see if he really were so hopeful, but could de 
 tect nothing to make me think otherwise, except that he was very 
 pale about the mouth. He then ascertained from Caesar the 
 direction she had taken, and rode hastily away. 
 
 In about two hours, which had seemed equal to a whole day, I 
 received the following hasty note by a messenger : 
 
 " DEAR CORA, 
 
 " I regret to say that I have so far been unsuccessful in my 
 search. Let Caesar procure men and horses from the village, 
 and start off in every direction. I am on my way to Waverley, 
 where I have slight encouragement to hope I may find her. A 
 young woman was seen hastily running in that direction, and was 
 observed to look frequently behind her, as if apprehending pur 
 suit. 
 
 " May God in mercy grant this to be our dear distracted sister. 
 Pray for us ; but this I know you will do. I am stopping for ten
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 115 
 
 minutes to rest and water my horse. Sweet wife, take care of 
 yourself and our dear mother. 
 
 YOUR FRANK." 
 
 I instantly rang for Caesar, and gave him his master's orders, 
 directing him to send in every other direction except that taken 
 by the Doctor, and make inquiries at every house. Mother was 
 so distressed, I felt that I must not give way to my feelings. So 
 I walked the room holding Pauline tightly in my arms, or lead 
 ing her by my side. 
 
 Not a tear did mother shed. She knelt by the sofa, with her 
 face buried in her hands, for half an hour at a time. At the least 
 noise, she would start up and look eagerly for a moment, and 
 then relapse into her former state. 
 
 I tried to pray, but could not command my thoughts ; I could 
 only lift up my heart, as I walked the room. God ! restore 
 unto us our dear, lost one ! " 
 
 I cannot describe to you the intense grief of mother, as hour 
 after hour passed away, and we still heard nothing from the fugi 
 tive. By this time, the whole village was aroused, and messen 
 gers were continually coming to the house to report their want of 
 success, or to make inquiries whether the poor girl had been 
 found. 
 
 From the remark of one of them that they had been " dragging 
 the pond" I for the first time realized what must be the agony 
 felt by my dear, distracted mother, who with a low wail put her 
 hand suddenly to her heart. I sprang to her side, and clasping 
 my arms around her neck, wept bitterly. That dreadful thought 
 had never before entered my mind. But it was what had dis 
 tracted her. 
 
 Alas ! what torment in that fear ! I trembled at every sound. 
 Dear, kind Miss Proctor, who instantly came to us in our sorrow, 
 begged us to go up stairs, where we could be more retired. She 
 promised to come to us with the first intelligence.
 
 116 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 Ann came to put Pauline to bed, and brought tea on a waiter ; 
 but I shook my head, I could not swallow. Mother seemed not 
 to see or hear her. 
 
 It must have been nearly nine in the evening, when I heard a 
 faint sound in the distance. I listened eagerly, and then again I 
 heard a shout. This time it aroused mother, who looked at me 
 with dreadful apprehension and horror of the cause. 
 
 " Hark ! " said I, as the sound was again borne on the breeze, 
 " what do they say ? " and now, as they approached nearer and 
 nearer, we distinctly heard the words, " She 's found.' SHE 's 
 
 FOUND ! ! " 
 
 We stopped but for one convulsive embrace, and then started 
 quickly to go below ; but the sudden relief was too great for 
 mother's overborne heart ; and she fell prostrate upon the floor. 
 Miss Proctor, with Ann's assistance, raised her, and soon restored 
 her to, consciousness, having motioned me to go below. 
 
 The carriage stopped at the door. A boy was sitting on a 
 cricket driving, while Frank held his unconscious sister in his 
 arms. With Cesar's assistance he carried her to her bed, from 
 which I fear the poor girl will not soon rise. She was very wild 
 all night, during which her devoted brother never left her. This 
 morning he pronounces her suffering from the worst form of bi'ain 
 fever. God only knows the result. 
 
 Dear mother shared my room with me, and in compliance with 
 Frank's earnestly expressed wishes, forced herself to remain in 
 bed. But I hardly think she closed her eyes. This morning he 
 has procured an excellent nurse, and will himself remain most of 
 the time with her. 
 
 He will not allow me to be in the room, and says he has no 
 desire to multiply such patients. He confessed to me this morn 
 ing that for many hours yesterday he feared a more dreadful 
 result ; and added, " God only knows what I suffered in the 
 thought that she had rushed into eternity unprepared." 
 
 I will go now and see if I can prevail upon mother to eat 

 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 117 
 
 something and lie down. " For Emily's sake," is the only success 
 ful plea. 
 
 Wednesday, August I3th. 
 
 This is truly a sad house. Scarcely a sound is to be heard in 
 it from morning to night. The door bells are muffled, and the 
 outer gates are barred ; no carriage enters the enclosure, and even 
 neighbors and friends, who come to inquire, tread lightly as they 
 pass round to the back door. We meet and pass each other in 
 the halls, or sit at table one at a time, often in the vain attempt 
 to eat ; but we dare not trust ourselves to speak, our hearts are 
 too full. Each of us pour out in secret the overflowings of a 
 burdened heart. We cannot even meet around the family altar. 
 God, who reads our thoughts, knows our only hope is in his rich 
 mercy, and that, from morning till night, our desires go forth to 
 Him in whose hand life and death are. 
 
 For several days our darling, precious sister has lain at the 
 point of death ; and we have no well-grounded hope of her pre 
 paration to meet her God. Oh, dreadful thought ! It is this 
 which makes our hearts sink within us. Surely, " the sting of 
 death is sin." If we could feel that Emily, dear Emily, was pre 
 pared to die, I think I could say, " it is well ;" but my heart cries 
 out with Esther, " How can I endure to see the destruction of my 
 kindred!" O, may God, in infinite compassion, restore our 
 darling to reason, ere she goes hence to be here no more ! She 
 has lain for two days unconscious of all around her. I dare not 
 ask Frank whether there is hope. There is none in his pale, 
 mournful face. 
 
 Friday, August 21st. 
 
 Dearest mother, rejoice with us ! We are permitted to hope. 
 My .own dear Frank, who had not left the sick room for many 
 weary hours, came noiselessly out of it this morning ; advanced 
 toward mother and myself who sat silently hand in hand, await 
 ing the long feared, and long expected summons.
 
 118 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 " Can you command your feelings ? " he asked in a hoarse 
 whisper. We bowed our assent. He led us to the bed-side of 
 the pale sufferer, where, with emotions of joy and gratitude which 
 I cannot describe, we saw her, ghastly and pale indeed, but in a 
 calm and natural slumber. 
 
 "With a finger on his lip, Frank pointed to the sweet expression 
 of the mouth, and the calm serenity of the brow, which had taken 
 the place of the previous signs of intense suffering. Leaving the 
 sympathizing nurse with her, we stole softly from the room. I 
 wanted to get into the air. My heart was swelling within me, 
 and the teai's, which I had forced back, were choking me. Frank 
 accompanied us to the library, where we knelt together to express 
 our gratitude and praise. 
 
 How easy now to feel submissive to the will of God ! When 
 we arose, mother clasped her son's hands in hers, and burst into 
 a flood of tears ; the first she has shed. I know they will relieve 
 her poor bursting heart. I feel that if Emily is restored to 
 health and reason, I can never again be unhappy. I love every 
 body. I want to sing I want to scream for joy ! I must 
 have my sweet Pauline home, and relieve myself by embracing 
 her. She has been with Miss Proctor every day for a week, 
 only returning at night. 
 
 Saturday, August 22d. 
 
 Emily recognizes us. We have been in one at a time. She 
 looked at us sweetly, and smiled. " 0, Emily ! " I even carried 
 Pauline to her room, who just pointed her little finger at aunty, 
 but did not speak. 
 
 The Doctor allows not a word of conversation. Now mother 
 has been in, she will not leave, though Frank tells her the nurse 
 can do much better. Her pale, anxious countenance will do his 
 patient no good. 
 
 Monday, August 24th. 
 Still encouraging prospects ! For the first time since Emily's
 
 OB, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 119 
 
 sickness, Frank passed an undisturbed and quiet night. Strange 
 as it may appear, my mind has been so occupied with sister's im 
 mediate danger, I have never thought to inquire of her brother 
 where he found her. It now appears that the young woman, 
 he mentioned in his hurried note to me, was in reality the insane 
 wanderer. But he lost all trace of her after dark, and was about 
 to return home in despair of success in that quarter, when he 
 overheard two women talking earnestly at the door of a house. 
 His attention was arrested by hearing one of them say, "She is 
 every inch a lady." The reply was in a lower tone. 
 
 " Well, I can't tell as to that," added the first speaker ; " Here 
 she is, away from all her folks, and what is to be done with her ? " 
 
 Frank says, his heart sprang into his mouth as he rode up to 
 them, and asked if they had seen or heard anything of a lady 
 who had escaped from her friends in a sudden fit of insanity. 
 
 " She is here ! she is here ! ! " they both exclaimed. 
 
 Frank speedily made arrangements for a driver, and for shawls 
 to wrap around the poor girl, who was alternately shivering with 
 cold or consumed with heat. 
 
 Tuesday Morning, September \st, 
 
 The nurse left us this morning. She was summoned to a 
 family where she had been previously engaged, and we could not 
 detain her. Mother, Miss Proctor, and I take her place. We 
 succeed admirably. Each of us take our turn in sleeping on a 
 couch beside the bed. Frank wished to take my place, but I de 
 cidedly refused. He is often called out during the night ; and 
 though he says he is used to it, yet I know he needs sleep when 
 he can get it. 
 
 Emily requires but little attention. Only toast-water or arrow 
 root once in a while. She sleeps most of the time. 
 
 I rode to-day with Frank to see Caroline, who fails very fast. 
 I was shocked to observe the alteration. She longs to depart, and 
 wished the Doctor, when he was about to pray, to ask God to
 
 120 CORA AND THE DOCTOR. 
 
 give her patience to wait her appointed time. Her mother ap 
 pears deeply affected, and when Frank addressed a few words of 
 consolation to her, she wept aloud. Then, after a short pause, " I 
 am willing to give up my beloved daughter, if it is God's will ; 
 but it comes so suddenly upon me, I am not prepared for it." 
 
 As we passed Squire Lee's, I begged my husband to stop and 
 let me speak to Lucy. Mrs. Burns came to the carriage and said 
 if I would alight and go into the parlor, she would (ake Lucy's 
 place with her father, and request her to come down. I imagined 
 the dear girl looked happier than she did when I saw her last. 
 She said " Though my sad duty at home has prevented my going 
 to you in your trouble, yet I have constantly thought of you." 
 
 Joseph is still away, and the Squire continues about the same ; 
 but Lucy hopes he will soon be better, as he takes neither wine, 
 nor brandy. It was melting to me to hear her speak of him with 
 such affection. "What a dutiful heart he has trampled upon ! 
 
 When I returned to the carriage, I asked Frank what he 
 thought of the old gentleman's case. 
 
 " If he abstains entirely from the use of stimulants," he replied, 
 " he may live for years. But his mind is very much enfeebled, 
 and probably he will not be able to transact any business, hardly 
 to leave the house. Any sudden excitement would terminate his 
 life. This I have tried to impress upon Lucy and the servants." 
 
 " Dear girl," I replied, " she seems perfectly happy in devoting 
 her life to the comfort of her miserable father." 
 
 " Yes," added the Doctor, " and God will reward her."
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 "The peace which passeth all understanding disclosed itself in all her movo- 
 r cuts. It lay on her countenance like a steady unshadowed moonlight." 
 
 COLEKIDGE. 
 
 Thursday, September 3d. 
 
 WE assisted Emily up into her chair to-day while Ann put 
 fresh linen upon the bed. How she has changed! "What a sof 
 tened, subdued look there is about her! Mother was the first to 
 notice it. Sister is very grateful for every attention, and has 
 a-ked us to forgive her for causing us so much anxiety. Yester 
 day she called her brother to the bed, and asked him in a low 
 voice if it would be too much trouble to call the servants to her 
 room, and have prayers there. He was much affected during the 
 service, while Ccesar and Phebe sobbed audibly. She spoke to 
 each one as they passed out of the room in a most affectionate 
 manner. 
 
 Sabbath, September Gth. 
 
 I have been to church all day. I intended to remain with sister 
 this afternoon, but at her special request her brother staid with 
 her, and I went again with mother. A note was read requesting 
 prayers for Caroline Leighton, lying at the point of death ; that 
 she might have the presence of her Saviour through the dark 
 valley, and arrive safety at her heavenly home. This was her 
 own dictation. Such notes are common here, and I think very 
 appropriate and salutary. 
 
 When I returned from church and was passing into Emily's 
 room, Frank came out and led me to my boudoir. His eyes were 
 inllamed as if he had been weeping. He sat down by me when 
 
 11
 
 122 CORA AND THIi DOCTOR; 
 
 I had laid off my bonnet, and said softly, " I know, dear Cora, 
 that you will join me in giving God the praise, for salvation has 
 come to this house." He then told me that soon after we left, 
 Emily requested him to bring the Bible to the side of the bed, 
 and read the parable of the prodigal son. He did so, and read in 
 si low tone until he came to the eighteenth verse, when she inter 
 rupted him, and with her eyes closed, and her hands clasped as if 
 in prayer, she repeated the words, " I will arise and go to my 
 father, and will say unto him, Father, I have sinned against 
 heaven and before thee, and am no more worthy to be called thy 
 child." She remained in the same attitude for a few moments, 
 when she put her hand into her brother's, saying, " dear Frank, 
 God, my Heavenly Father, has forgiven me." He sank down by 
 her side and buried his face in his hands. " Dear brother," she 
 whispered after a short pause, " will you ask God to enable me to 
 consecrate my life to his service? My life, which has been here 
 tofore worse than wasted." It was some time before he could pray 
 audibly, though his whole soul was filled with 1 gratitude and praise. 
 He had subsequently some delightful conversation with her, in the 
 course of which she exhibited evidence of a regenerate heart. 
 
 Wednesday, September 9^. 
 
 I have been with my dear husband this afternoon to attend the 
 funeral of Caroline Leighton, Avho died on Monday evening full 
 of peace and trust in her Saviour. Her last words were uttered 
 but half an hour before she expired, and were, " For I know in 
 whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to keep 
 that which I have committed unto him against that day." She 
 had previously left messages of love for all her friends, together 
 with some little parting token of afTec'tion. She begged her father 
 to tell the Doctor what comfort and joy she had experienced in 
 her dying hour; and when lie suggested that she should send her 
 thanks for all his attention both to her spiritual and temporal wants, 
 she looked up to him with a smile, and said, " tell him no thanks
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OP A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 123 
 
 t f mine can repay him, but God will reward him." "With a true 
 ; jfinement of feeling she presented me with a little collection of 
 ! ymns which Frank had given her, and in which she had marked 
 'hose which best expressed her feelings. 
 
 " Oh, Death ! 
 " Youth and the opening rose 
 
 May look like things too glorious for decay, 
 And smile at thee but thou art not of those 
 That wait the ripened bloom to seize their prey." 
 
 Thursday j ScpteMter 10th. 
 
 Frank is trying to arrange his business for a journey with me 
 rs soon as he can leave Emily, who gains daily. A very free 
 conversation passed between her and mother, relative not only to 
 tie new feelings and hopes which fill her soul; but also to her 
 f; Section for Mr. Benson. On the latter of these subjects, she has 
 1 < re to fore maintained the most rigid reserve, excepting only the 
 I assionatc expressions which I heard. Since that interview a new 
 t'e seems to be formed between them. Mother no longer feels 
 obliged to restrain the outward manifestation of affection for her 
 child, while sister in her softened, subdued state heartily recipro 
 cates her feelings and expressions. 
 
 Saturday, September 12th. 
 
 I went yesterday with the Doctor to make a call upon Mrs. Dr. 
 Clapp. From a variety of reasons I have been prevented from 
 calling early, as I intended ; but with these reasons both the Doctor 
 and his wife were well acquainted. They have rented a little bird 
 cage of a house, where the young bride performs the offices of 
 cook, house-keeper and chambermaid. The proud husband, who 
 1- :-till so unfortunate as to have plenty of leisure, showed us all 
 tL ir conveniences, and evidently thought himself the happiest man, 
 and his wife the dearest woman in the country. She is obviously 
 a keeper at home, shrinking like a sensitive plant from contact
 
 124 CORA AND THE DOCTOR ; 
 
 with strangers, but unfolding and expanding in the congenial at 
 mosphere of home, and home friends. No doubt the grateful 
 Doctor had set forth in glowing terms " the unprecedented kind 
 ness of Dr. Lenox." With many blushes she thanked me cordially 
 for the kind interest we had taken in his welfare. Frank made 
 satisfactory arrangements with Dr. Clapp, as to leaving his business 
 with him during our short absence, and when he began earnestly 
 to express his thanks, my husband cut him short by saying, " I 
 regard myself altogether as the obliged party." We enjoyed the 
 visit much. -4fter returning a few of the many calls made upon 
 me, I was grau to be at home again. " There is no place like 
 home." 
 
 Monday, September \Mh. 
 
 We have decided to leave home on Wednesday morning, in 
 order to take P on our way, to be present at a Quaker wed 
 ding, when Elizabeth Estes will become" Elizabeth Nelson. We 
 
 expect to go to B , a flourishing town in the western part of 
 
 New York. I pleaded hard to take Pauline with me, as Ann could 
 well be spared for nurse ; but the Doctor was inexorable. When 
 he is decided, one might as well undertake to remove the moun 
 tains into the sea, as to change his determination. Yet I must 
 confess his decisions are generally wise. Respectful as he always 
 is to his mother, and ready to yield to her wishes, yet when she 
 sees he has fully made up his mind upon a point, she never tries 
 to change his decision. Pauline will remain under the care of 
 mother and Emily. Frank is determined that I shall reap great 
 benefit from this journey, and so I suppose I shall. In truth, my 
 health is his great motive for going. I have grown excessively 
 nervous and low-spirited. I want to sit on a cricket at your feet, 
 and lay my head in your lap, dear mother, and have you comfort 
 and cheer me. I try to reason with myself that I ha-ve no occa 
 sion to feel thus, but I cannot help it ; the next morning I am as 
 bad as ever. Frank tries to comfort me by saying that it is owing
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIANS WIFE. 125 
 
 my state of health and to my loss of appetite, and that I shall 
 oon be better. 
 
 Tuesday, September 15th. 
 This morning Ann knocked at my door, and said Phebe begged 
 
 1 would go to the kitchen. I went and found a little girl and 
 oy hand in hand awaiting me. The girl I should judge was six 
 
 DI* seven years of age ; the boy was not more than four. He 
 :<ept his eyes fixed upon me, with an earnest, serious expression, 
 while his sister explained her errand, as if the business they came 
 upon, was in their opinion of great importance and magnitude. 
 The little girl, in a singularly sweet voice, asked me humbly if 
 1 had any work I wanted to have done. I smiled as I inquired, 
 ' is the work for you or for your brother ? " She understood the 
 >:nile and said quickly, " I can weed in a garden, or run of errands, 
 or," turning to Phebe with rather a doubtful look, " scour knives 
 and wash dishes. I '11 be very careful not to break them, ma'am." 
 " Where are your parents, Anna ? " I asked when she had given 
 me her name. 
 
 " My mother is sick in bed," she replied sadly. 
 'And your father, is lie dead ? " 
 
 " No, ma'am," she answered, timidly dropping her eyes to the 
 floor, while a burning blush flashed over her pale wan countenance, 
 extending even to her very temples. Her little brother looked at 
 her, and then at me. Encouraged, I suppose, by my sympathy, 
 he said, " Pa aint good. Pa 's a bad man, he licks ma when she 's 
 sick." 
 
 I hastily inquired where they lived, and requesting Phebe to 
 give th^m some breakfast returned to my room, where Frank was 
 : Having. I told him what I had heard, when he interrupted me, 
 -Ah, 3 lias been having another spree ! I 'm sorry for his 
 
 : dor . ai irt'ii. This man/' ?aid hn, turning from the 
 
 mirror to look at me, " is another of Squire Lee's hopeful proteges. 
 ( fti I" he continued after a moment's pause, while he went on with 
 
 11*
 
 126 COEA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 his shaving, " the misery that distillery has caused in this place, 
 would if written down fill volumes." 
 
 " What can I do for the poor children," I asked. " They want 
 work." 
 
 " Well, give them something to do, and pay them with a basket 
 of food. Mrs. Reynolds would hardly accept it as a gift. I will 
 ride around that way when I am out, and see what can be done." 
 
 As I returned to the kitchen, I fairly taxed my ingenuity to 
 find some employment suited to their capacities ; but in vain. So 
 I determined to appeal to Phebe. " My good Phebe," said I, 
 " have you no work for these children who are so anxious to be 
 employed ? " 
 
 " Laws now missus ! " answered Phebe, " It 's no kinder use 
 settin sich babies to work. There 's heaps on em comes here a 
 beggin. If missus would give em a cold bite now to carry to 
 their sick ma, 'pears like dere 'd b*e some use in dat ar." 
 
 I wish I could describe to you the anxious expression with which 
 these poor little creatures regarded Phebe as she replied, as if 
 they would implore her to answer more favorably. I saw that 
 the good woman had no idea of the real state of the case, and 
 taking her into the hall I explained to her that they had not been 
 used to begging, and I did not like to break down the independence 
 and delicacy of feeling, I so much admired. With a toss of her 
 turban the truly kind-hearted woman signified that she fully un 
 derstood me, and when I told her farther that her master was go 
 ing out directly to the aid of their mother, she was ready to do 
 her full part in assisting them. She stood one moment to think 
 what she should set them about, as she expressed it, when her 
 countenance brightened as she exclaimed, " Wai now, if that ar 
 aint kind o' curus. There 's me 's been a tellin my ole man how 
 desp't bad I wanted de brush picked up clean out dar in de orchard 
 fore cold wedder comes ; but laws, he never has no time for not- 
 ting." When we returned to the kitchen, the brother and sister 
 had finished their breakfast, and sat awaiting the important decision.
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 127 
 
 I suggested that it would be well for them to carry something 
 previously to their mother, and obtain her consent to remain 
 through the day. She would thus be relieved from all anxiety 
 concerning them. 
 
 As I committed the basket of food to the eager hand stretched 
 out for it, I was struck with the expression of the child's counte 
 nance. It shone like that of an angel. Nor did I wonder at it, 
 when gently pulling my dress she reached up to speak to me, and 
 said, " I felt sure, ma'am, we should get some," glancing at the 
 basket. 
 
 Why, my dear?" 
 
 " Because this morning, I said, please God give me some bread 
 for my poor sick ma." 
 
 " Were you sure, God would hear you ? " I asked, wishing to 
 hear farther. Looking up in surprise, she answered, while her 
 eyes grew bright, " why you know ma'am, he says, ' ask and ye 
 shall receive.' Ma told me that he says so in the Bible." 
 
 What a beautiful lesson of trust ! I kissed them both and let 
 them go. Phebe, whose sympathies were now thoroughly enlisted, 
 followed them to the door, saying, " tell your ma, she shan 't want 
 for vittles while mass'r 'lows ole Phebe to save em for yees ; " 
 and then remembering what I had told her, she added, " tell her 
 thar 's heaps o' work o' waiting for yees." 
 
 Afternoon. 
 
 As I have finished my packing, I will tell you that Phebe's 
 proteges, Anna and Willie, soon returned and went to work with 
 such good will upon the brush that madam was enthusiastic in 
 their praise. They brought me word that their mother was very 
 much obliged to me for letting them earn the food. The Doctor 
 found her sick with a cold. In a fit of intoxication her husband 
 turned her out of the house, where she was obliged to remain 
 until chilled through. Frank advised her to complain to the 
 public authorities and have him confined for a time. " Oh,
 
 128 CORA AND THE DOCTOTC. 
 
 Doctor!" slie replied, '' lie 's o If when lie treats me so 
 
 ill. He never would do ii, if it were not for rum. Oh, u 
 she continue*], beginning to cry, u we v.'ere so luiypy until lie went 
 to work in that horrid distillery." 
 
 How many poor distressed wives and children have raid she 
 same ! Happy indeed should we be if it were not i'oi-rum! I 
 have become so much interested in the family, that I would gladly 
 postpone my journey another day, for the sake of visiting her, 
 were it not for my desire to be present at Elizabeth's wedding. 
 Mother Lenox needed no urging to attend to the wants of the 
 family while the Doctor is absent. I requested Frank to give 
 me the history of the ReynoldsTamily ; but he smiled as he said, 
 "you are so systematic a person I should be obliged to begin at 
 the beginning, and relate every fact in due order, which would 
 take more time than I can well spare." He promised, however, 
 to gratify my curiosity at another time. Dear little Pauline has 
 no idea that I am to leave her. But she will be taken good care 
 of I doubt not. Emily pets her rather too much.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 " On tliee, blest youth, a father's hand confers 
 
 The maid thy earliest, fondest wishes knew 5 
 Each soft enchantment of the soul is hers ; 
 Thine be the joys to firm attachment due." 
 
 KOGERS. 
 
 Monday, October 
 IT is six months to day since I was married and left my 
 beloved home. What would you say to your daughter if she 
 were to tell you that sometimes she has been so unthankful for 
 all her mercies as to wish she had never left the shelter of the 
 paternal roof or the warm embrace of parents and sisters. But so 
 it has been, and I have determined to confess it to you. I think it 
 will guard me from ever indulging again in distrust or jealousy. 
 But I forget that I have told you nothing of our journey and 
 return. I have enough to fill many pages of my journal. 
 
 We started on a clear, bright morning in September, and in 
 two or three hours reached P - . We went directly to the house 
 of Friend Shove, where we met by appointment Friend Estes, 
 her husband Jotham, and her daughter Elizabeth. I suppose 
 Jenny, our old nurse at home, would have told me as she used 
 sometimes to do when I was a child, that I had " got out of bed 
 wrong," for I felt cross all the morning. And when as we rode 
 on, (we were in our own carriage, and some of the wedding 
 party were to take it back,) Frank tried to . cheer me, and said 
 kindly, " You must expect sometimes to feel a little out of tune," 
 I only felt worse. When, however, I saw the smooth, placid face 
 of Friend Estes, and her bright, smiling, blushing Lizzie, as she
 
 130 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 is affectionately called, I began to think there were pleasant spots 
 in the world after all. And when I had sat down at a neat table 
 covered with everything to tempt one's appetite, and had taken 
 a cup of delicious coffee, and a slice of ham, I felt decidedly more 
 reconciled to life. I could eat nothing before I started. After 
 waiting half an hour, we all walked to meeting, where, as in Eng 
 land, among the same denomination, the males occupy one part 
 of the house and the females the other. Josiah Nelson and Eliz 
 abeth Estes sat on the high seat in front of the audience, and in 
 sight of all of them. After sitting for some time without a word 
 being spoken, Josiah arose and took Elizabeth by the hand, say 
 ing, " In the presence of this assembly, I take this my friend 
 Elizabeth Estes to be my wife, promising through divine assist 
 ance to be unto her a faithful and affectionate husband until death 
 shall separate us." 
 
 Then Elizabeth in a sweet voice which she vainly tried to keep 
 from trembling, said, still holding her friend by the hand, " In the 
 presence of this assembly, I take this my friend Josiah Nelson to 
 be my husband, promising through divine assistance, to be un 
 to him a faithful and affectionate wife until death shall separate 
 us." 
 
 They then subscribed their names to the certificate, which was 
 as follows : " Whereas, Josiah, son of Samuel and Hannah 
 Nelson, and Elizabeth, daughter of Jotham and Elizabeth Estes, 
 have declared their intentions of taking each other in marriage to 
 
 monthly meeting of the Society of Friends held in P , 
 
 according to the good order used among them ; and their proceed 
 ings after due inquiry and deliberate consideration thereof being 
 allowed by the said meeting ; they appearing clear of all others, 
 and having consent of parents, these are to certify to all whom it 
 may concern, that for the full accomplishment of their said inten 
 tion, this sixteenth day of the ninth month, in the year of our 
 Lord one thousand eight hundred and thirty-five, they, the said 
 J. N. and E. E., appeared at a religious meeting of the aforesaid
 
 OK, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 181 
 
 ociety in P , and did declare," etc. [See marriage contract 
 
 ;s above.] 
 
 After this novel and interesting ceremony had concluded, we 
 eturned to a most bountiful dinner with the hospitable family of 
 - Viend Shove ; and soon after bidding our friends " farewell," we 
 proceeded on our journey.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 " Foul jealousy ! that turnest love divine 
 To joyless dread, or mak'st the loving heart 
 With hateful thoughts to languish and to pine, 
 And feed itself with self-consuming smart ; 
 Of all the passions in the mind thou vilest art. 
 
 SPENSEK. 
 
 Evening, October 19th. 
 
 . WE reached B on Tuesday evening, September 22d, 
 
 where we were cordially welcomed by Mrs. Morgan, a sister of 
 Frank's father. The family consists of Mr. and Mrs. Morgan, 
 and their son Joseph Lenox, named for his uncle. There was 
 also Mrs. Fidelia Schuyler, an orphan neice of aunt Morgan, who 
 had been married but a few months. She is a child of aunt Mor 
 gan's brother, who has been deceased many years. As I shall 
 have much to say of her, I will describe her as she presented her 
 self to me at the time. She appeared to be about twenty years 
 of age, with very light flaxen hair, hanging in loose curls at the 
 side of her face. She had blue eyes, and a somewhat fair com 
 plexion. At the first glance I thought her a very little like 
 Emily in expression ; but' afterwards wondered how I could have 
 thought so. Emily's eyes are a splendid gray, fringed with long, 
 black lashes, and her hair is the darkest shade of auburn, like 
 Frank's. 
 
 Fidelia received me cordially enough ; as I was a stranger, I 
 could not expect she would be as glad to see me as she was to 
 see her own cousin. I felt almost hurt that Frank did not more 
 fully reciprocate her joy at their meeting. There was a perfect
 
 REVELATIONS Olf A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 133 
 
 fa icination to me about this young bride. She was constantly 
 cl anging like the colors and figures in a kaleidoscope. Some 
 times she would introduce conversation with the Doctor upon 
 p< litics, and really talk very sensibly, so that I felt ashamed that 
 I was ignorant of such subjects. Then she would talk of old 
 times in a manner I did not at all understand. I fancied once or 
 tv ice that Frank, to whom all this conversation was addressed, 
 looked rather annoyed, and supposed it was in consequence of my 
 li:- tening so closely ; I therefore turned to my cousin Joseph. He 
 cl limed me as such, before I stepped from the carriage. He is a fine 
 in i (Diligent youth near my own age I should imagine ; and though 
 h< made many inquiries about his aunt and Emily, which I was 
 occupied in answering, yet I could not wholly withdraw my atten 
 tion from the cousin near me. Her voice would often drop to so 
 lo A r a key that I could not distinguish the words ; but its intona 
 tion was soft and languishing, and her whole appearance, to say 
 the least, as she sat upon the sofa with Frank, was certainly 
 peculiar. Joseph observed my frequent glances in that direction, 
 ard he whispered, "The greatest coquette," motioning with his 
 head towards his cousin, " in the known world." 
 
 "Is she a widow then?" I asked eagerly, "I understood aunt 
 she was Mrs, Schuyler ; if so, I should hardly think, she would 
 waste her energies on a married man. You would be a better 
 subject." He laughed so heartily that for a minute or so, he in 
 terrupted the conversation on the sofa, when I heard Fidelia say 
 to Frank, in a voice hardly raised above a whisper, " Your wife 
 seems very free and easy ; I suppose it results from her being 
 educated in Paris. One would think from her manner, she had 
 been acquainted with Joseph a long time." 
 
 I could hear no more, for at that moment Joseph commenced 
 again. 
 
 ' My dear coz, how old do you take me to be ? " 
 
 " About as old as I am," I replied. 
 
 " Ah ! now, I shall have a fino chance to find your age. Doc- 
 12
 
 134 CORA AND THE DOCTOK; 
 
 tor," said he, breaking in upon their conversation, " will you favor 
 me with the exact age of your wife ? " The Doctor looked as if 
 he did not quite understand. 
 
 " She thinks," he continued, " that I am about as old as she is. 
 Now to ascertain the correctness of this judgment, I apply to you 
 for the year, month, and day, of her birth." 
 
 " How vulgar," whispered Fidelia. 
 
 I laughed at the mock gravity of his manner, and should have 
 been entirely deceived by it, had it not been for a merry glance from 
 his eye. "I could easily have answered the question," said I, "if you 
 had applied to me ; I was born, as I have been informed, on the 
 fourth day of February, one thousand eight hundred and seventeen, 
 and am therefore, at the present time, eighteen years, seven 
 months, and eighteen days." I imitated his manner as I replied. 
 He bowed almost to the floor, and resumed his seat. 
 
 " Astonishing ! " murmured Fidelia, " she is very free to tell 
 her age, now she is married" 
 
 Frank started to meet his aunt who was returning to the room 
 after having attended to her evening duties. He led her to a 
 distance, where they were soon absorbed in an interesting conver 
 sation, in which they were joined by uncle Morgan, a thorough 
 gentleman of the old school, perhaps a little too formal in his ex 
 treme politeness, but a very excellent husband and father. He 
 is a lawyer, and a man of considerable wealth. Fidelia often 
 looked that way as if wishing to follow her cousin, but at length 
 left the sofa, and took a seat near us ; but not before Joseph had 
 asked me- in a hurried manner how old I thought she was. 
 
 " I will ' guess,' " said I, " she is nineteen or twenty." 
 
 " Add ten to that," he replied quickly, as she approached. 
 
 After half an hour, during which time Joseph did most of the 
 talking, aunt came to me remarking that I looked very tired and 
 had better retire. This I was glad to do, and she said she would 
 accompany me ; but Fidelia begged so earnestly for the privilege, 
 that I requested aunt to remain with Frank. Contrary to my
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 135 
 
 ex >ectation, and indeed to my wish, she entered my room, and 
 remained so long I had no excuse for not undressing ; and at length 
 Wiss obliged to do so in the presence of an entire stranger. She 
 continued talking, however, in a most confidential strain. " I sup 
 pose you don't wonder," she commenced, " that Frank, (the rest 
 of the family called him Doctor,) and I are so glad to see one 
 an other, considering," she stopped. 
 
 " Considering what ? " I asked in surprise at her manner, which 
 in plied far more than her words expressed. 
 
 She hesitated, "why considering that we were brought up 
 together. Aunt Lenox adopted me when mother died, and I 
 al ways lived at your house. What room do you occupy ? " she 
 a^ked. 
 
 I answered reluctantly, though I could not tell why. There 
 was something very unpleasant about her conversation. It 
 always, unintentionally perhaps, left a sting. She went on to in 
 form me in the strictest confidence, that she and Frank had been 
 fondly attached to one another. 
 
 " Why," I asked, " was this friendship given up ? " 
 
 " Friendship" she repeated in a theatrical tone, " say rather 
 ardent love ! " I could not prevent my voice from trembling a 
 little as I repeated my question. 
 
 "Oh!" she replied with a mysterious air, "aunt Lenox 
 peculiar reasons." She suddenly started on hearing a step ; 
 and whispering, " not a word of all this, my dear," hastily left 
 Die. 
 
 I don't think I could have endured it a moment longer. I 
 never felt so thoroughly " worked up," as the Yankees say ; and 
 for five minutes I would have given every thing I possessed, could 
 I have been safely at home under my own dear mother's roof. 
 When Frank came up, I could only feign sleep in order to con 
 ceal my new and strange emotions of distrust and jealousy, Fide 
 lia had awakened in my mind. I forced myself to be quiet until 
 Frank was asleep, when I could contain myself no longer. With
 
 136 CORA AND THE DOCTOB; 
 
 my face buried in the pillow to stifle my sobs, I wept until I could 
 weep no longer. I lay awake all night, revolving the dreadful 
 deception which I fancied had been practised upon me. I could 
 well understand, I thought, why mother Lenox had never even 
 mentioned Fidelia's name in my presence. Nor could I account 
 for the fact that Frank had not, except upon the supposition that 
 what she had told me was true. Indeed the truth of her story I 
 did not for a moment doubt. 
 
 Tuesday, October 2Qtfi. 
 
 "When I awoke the next morning, which I did from a troubled 
 nap after day-break, I could not at first remember what had hap 
 pened, such a heavy weight was upon my spirits. If any one 
 had told me then, that I was not the most unhappy person in the 
 world, I should have considered them very unkind. 
 
 Frank actually started when I tried to rise, and would have 
 persuaded me to lie down again ; but 1 was determined to do as I 
 chose, and persisted until a sudden fit of faintness compelled me to 
 return to my bed. I felt so severely the effects of my night's 
 excitement, that I began to be really anxious about the result. If 
 Frank spoke to me, I averted my head. I could not endure to 
 meet his eye ; and when he kindly went below and brought a cup 
 of coffee to the bed, I refused to take it. I could only sob and 
 say, " I want to go home. I must see my own mother." 
 
 The Doctor was now seriously alarmed, and went for aunt. 
 With true motherly kindness, she administered to me, persuaded 
 me to drink the coffee and eat a slice of dry toast. She then 
 smoothed my pillow, darkened the room and left me, after a prom 
 ise that I would at least try to sleep. She left a small bell upon 
 the table, and said, " no one shall come in until you ring." 
 
 To my surprise, when I awoke, the sun was shining high in the 
 heavens ; and on my consulting my watch, I found it was near 
 noon. I arose quietly and dressed, and not a little astonished the 
 company sitting in the parlor below, by my sudden entrance. It
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE, 137 
 
 i aade me feel no better, however, to perceive, as I did at a glance, 
 ! hat ray husband and his cousin occupied seats near each oth^r on 
 he sofa, as on the previous evening. But the Doctor was busily 
 ngaged in reading, and did not perceive me until I had advanced 
 .0 the middle of the room. 
 
 " There, Frank," exclaimed Fidelia, as he sprang up to give 
 me his seat, " I told you, you were unnecessarily alarmed. Now, 
 sweet cousin," said she, turning to look up in my face, and minc 
 ing her words, " confess you were only shamming." 
 
 " Fidelia," said my aunt, in a stern voice. I did not look to 
 see what Frank thought ; I did not care. I covered my eyes to 
 prevent the tears from being seen. I wanted to keep them cov 
 ered forever rather than to see Fidelia's face again. In justice 
 to myself, I ought to say, that probably this state of mind, which 
 was greatly aggravated by the condition of my health, would soon 
 have passed away, had it not been for the continual suggestions 
 and insinuations of Fidelia. Sometimes by a word, sometimes by 
 a significant shrug of the shoulders ; then, again, by a glance of 
 the eye, she gave a false coloring to the most trivial words or 
 actions, and 
 
 " Trifles, light as air, 
 Are, to the jealous, confirmations strong 
 As proofs of holy writ." 
 
 All this time, the Doctor grew every day more and more grave, 
 almost stern. Now and then, when I looked up suddenly, I met 
 his eye fixed upon me in a serious, inquiring manner, as if he 
 would read my very thoughts. Though I felt that I was inno 
 cent of any wrong toward him, and that he had deceived and 
 wronged me, yet I could not help looking very much confused. 
 
 Joseph, good kind Joseph, was the life of the house. He de 
 voted himself to my comfort. He read to me, toid me stories, 
 and was never tired of hearing me talk about my sweet little 
 Pauline. Oh ! how in imagination, I hugged the little thing to 
 12*
 
 138 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 my heart, as the only one on earth in whom I could repose entire 
 trust. Joseph wove many a tale out of her romantic story, in 
 which by turns she figured as a Countess, a Duchess, or, at least, 
 as Lady Pauline. I told him, I was entirely satisfied to have 
 her plain Pauline Lenox. Then the merry fellow asked me to 
 educate her for a wife for him. " That would be just the thing, 
 and your desire could be satisfied by having her name unchanged, 
 I would merely add Morgan to it. 
 
 " Now, Coz" said he one day, " I'm serious about this matter ; 
 I've been looking about for a year or two ; and I have seen no 
 one whom I should wish to honor with my name and title. I lay 
 awake all last night thinking what a fine thing it would be to 
 have her educated for me." 
 
 , I could not help laughing as I replied, " I should shrink from 
 so responsible an employment." 
 
 " Why, Coz," he said earnestly, unconsciously raising his voice, 
 " Make her like yourself. I ask no greater joy than to possess 
 the hand of one in every respect like yourself." 
 
 At the last sentence, I noticed that Fidelia gave the Doctor a 
 quick glance to direct his attention to us ; and I heard her say, 
 " quite sentimental." Frank started from his chair with a terri 
 ble look, such as I had never seen but once before, and that was 
 when I told him of Emily's treatment of Mr. Benson. He 
 walked quickly across the room, but appearing to recollect him 
 self, he took a book and resumed his seat. I detected a smile of 
 exultation on Fidelia's face which in vain I tried to account for or 
 understand. 
 
 Joseph bent down over me, taking my hand as he did so, and 
 while he played with the rings on my fingers said, sinking his 
 voice to the lowest key, " What can the matter be ? You may 
 always be sure there is mischief where Fidelia is." 
 
 I started ; how true this had been in my case ! I fell into a 
 long reverie ; so long that Joseph took up a paper to read. I 
 thought over all she had told me from our first interview ; look-
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 139 
 
 in f at this subject and that by the light of the new revelation, I 
 h; d of her character. But there were stern facts to be met. 
 She had passed all the early part of her life in the closest in 
 timacy with my husband ; they had loved each other ardently; 
 nay, she had hinted that at one time they were affianced. And 
 yut this had been sacredly kept from me, while he had often told 
 n e I was the first object of his affection. Then I could not shut 
 n y eyes to the fact that Frank was entirely different in his man- 
 n 3r toward me. I could hardly believe him to be the same man. 
 As day after day passed he grew more and more polite ; but it 
 v as a frigid politeness, which chilled my very blood ; and this, 
 too, at a time when my health demanded unusual tenderness. I 
 sometimes wonder even now, how all this could have happened, 
 find Aunt Morgan not have noticed it more particularly. But 
 t ten I remember that she had not known her nephew intimately 
 f jr many years ; and I was a perfect stranger to her. She knew 
 r ot that, until we arrived at her house, we had been all the world 
 to each other. 
 
 On Saturday afternoon, Mr. Schuyler arrived. He is of Ger 
 man origin, rather abrupt in manner, but possessing naturally, I 
 should imagine, a warm heart and capable of making a loving 
 \vife happy by the strength of his affection. But I had not been 
 in company with them many hours before I saw that Mrs. Schuy 
 ler was recklessly throwing away her own happiness, and that of 
 her husband. By every means in her power, she contrived to 
 render him she had sworn to " love, honor and obey," uncom 
 fortable, nay, even wretched. He had some slight peculiarities 
 of person to which she referred in the presence of the family, in 
 si manner so unbecoming and unlady-like, that my cheeks burned 
 with shame and indignation. I could see that it was with diffi 
 culty that he refrained from giving her a tart reply. 
 
 But all other annoyances were slight compared with the one 
 great desire which had taken possession of her soul, which was to 
 render her husband jealous of the Doctor. To this one purpose
 
 140 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 she bent all her powers. I cannot describe to you the variety of 
 conflicting emotions sti-uggling for mastery during the hours of 
 that never to be forgotten Sabbath. I had slept little the night 
 previous, but had lain awake revolving the character of my 
 cousin, and, for the first time, doubts of her truthfulness began to 
 intrude themselves into my mind. I acknowledged her fascina 
 tion, her great conversational powers, but I could not shut my 
 eyes to the fact that all these gifts were perverted to unlawful 
 purposes, such as would surely destroy not only her own, and her 
 husband's happiness, but the happiness of all with whom she as 
 sociated. Even in my troubled sleep she was before me, and 
 appeared like the serpents I had read of, who fascinate and charm 
 but to destroy. 
 
 On Sabbath morning, Fidelia appeared elaborately dressed and 
 really looked beautiful. Frank's eyes rested upon her with such 
 a singular expression that I looked at him with wonder. I had 
 before thought her free in manner with him, but now I was 
 amazed. I had never even imagined any person so artfully in 
 sinuating. Sometimes I determined to leave the room, unable 
 longer to endure the annoyance and excitement ; but the 
 next moment I was restrained by a desire to see what would 
 follow. 
 
 Directly after family prayers, she availed herself of a seat 
 near the Doctor, and, leaning familiarly on the arm of his chair, 
 said, " Dear Frank, I've so often longed to talk with you upon 
 some subjects connected with my spiritual interests ! You, dear 
 cousin, always understood my inner nature, my better feelings. 
 Oh," said she, slightly raising her voice, and sighing heavily as 
 she glanced toward her husband, " how I have longed for a con 
 genial spirit for some one who could appreciate my aspirations 
 after higher good. Dear cousin," she added, laying her hand on 
 his, and gazing up into his face with an expression of languishing 
 fondness, "those were blissful days when we scarce called a 
 thought or wish our own, until we had imparted it to each other."
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 141 
 
 Frank started from his seat, and I was sure there "was a strong 
 e> pression of disgust upon his countenance. But the indignant 
 hi sband saw not this. He had caught his hat and rushed from 
 the house. 
 
 Fidelia remarked with a sneer, " it is a great grief to me that 
 
 I have never been able to prevail with Mr. Schuyler to keep in 
 i( iors on the Sabbath. It is really disgraceful to see any one so 
 i >enly profane the day." 
 
 " Fidelia," said the Doctor, in a reproving tone, " The God of 
 
 II ie Sabbath requires not only an outward observance, but a regu- 
 '< lion of the thoughts and feelings of the heart. We may offend 
 im as truly by indulging in unkind thoughts or improper feel- 
 tigs, as by any outward violation of the sanctity of the day." 
 
 I expected Fidelia would be offended by the plainness of this 
 speech ; but to my surprise she caught Frank's hand, and pressed 
 i: again and again to her lips ; and with her eyes, which were 
 humid with tears fixed lovingly upon his, she said in a sad tone, 
 ' Oh, Frank ! if I could only have had you near me to point out 
 r.iy faults kindly and tenderly, I might have been happy and 
 good. Don't blame your poor Fidelia, who, connected with a man 
 with whom she has not a single feeling of communion, is indeed 
 very miserable." 
 
 The Doctor appeared much perplexed and annoyed, while 
 Uncle Morgan walked angrily out of the room. Joseph came 
 and sat down by me, and began in a low voice to talk of his won 
 der that the Doctor did not see through and despise her hypocrisy. 
 " I can endure anything else," said he, while an expression of in 
 tense abhorrence passed over his countenance ; " but when she 
 gets on to one of her pious strains, I have to call to mind all the 
 consistent piety of my parents to keep me from thinking religion 
 a farce." 
 
 " Dear Joseph," said I, " it distresses me to hear you speak so 
 lightly upon religious subjects. It is the want of religion your 
 reason disapproves. Believe me, true piety never repels in the
 
 142 CORA AND THE DOCTOR 5 
 
 way you mention." I looked up to meet the eyes of my husband 
 fixed upon me with such sadness that the blood burned in my 
 cheeks. I felt, from Fidelia's looks, there was something wrong ; 
 but what, I could not imagine. The Doctor left the room, and 
 soon his cousin retired to dress for church. Joseph wished to 
 remain with me, but this I would by no means allow. I intended 
 to retire to my own apartment, and spend the time in a manner 
 befitting the sacredness of the day. 
 
 When the church bell rang, the family assembled in the par 
 lor ; and as Mr. Schuyler had not returned, Fidelia put her arm 
 in Frank's before they left the house. I could not resist the in 
 clination to look at them from the window. She hung heavily on 
 his arm as she lovingly turned her face to his. I pressed my 
 hand to my heart to still a rising thought prejudicial to my hus 
 band, and returned for a moment to my seat. Before I had re 
 covered myself sufficiently to go to my room, the outer door burst 
 open, and Mr. Schuyler entered, in no enviable frame of mind. 
 He had met his wife and Frank on their way to church, and had 
 only needed the look of unmistakable affection with which she 
 regarded her companion to raise his jealousy to the highest pitch. 
 
 He appeared wholly unconscious of my presence, but walked 
 with hasty strides across the room, soliloquizing in an angry man 
 ner : " A pretty life she leads me ! She says, they were formerly 
 engaged to be married. Upon my soul, I believe it ; though I've 
 found out long ago she has no more regard for the truth than 
 that," vehemently snapping his fingers. " Fool that I was to 
 marry her to be so taken in by a pretty face and languishing 
 looks ! Bah ! it makes me sick to see her fawning round the 
 Doctor." 
 
 He walked to the mantel piece and stood for a moment looking 
 into the fire, when he commenced again, " I thought her an angel 
 of goodness. If it had been real she might have moulded me into 
 what she pleased. Upon my soul," with a half uttered oath be 
 tween his teeth, " I believe she 's possessed of all the devils that
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIANS WIFE. 143 
 
 w< re cast out of Mary Magdalene. I 've made up my mind what 
 co irse to pursue." After a short pause, he added with a sigh of 
 re ief, " Yes, J have it ! She was poor she married me for my 
 money, well yes, that will serve her right," and his hollow 
 langh made me shudder. "And yet," he added, in a softened tone, 
 while his good spirit again seemed pleading, " how I loved her, 
 
 h< w happy we might have been well, we shall see, ive shall 
 se>,!" 
 
 Many times since the entrance of Mr. Schuyler, I had started 
 fr >m my seat intending to say something to soothe his anger, but 
 a.<- often had sunk back powerless. I was myself suffering, and 
 what could I say? But the agony he endured; the jealousy and 
 desire for revenge exhibited by him opened my eyes to the fearful 
 biink upon which I stood, and I firmly resolved by the help of 
 God, to give no sleep to my eyes until I had unburdened my 
 hoart to my husband, and besought a return of his confidence and 
 love. I saw plainly where I Kad sinned, in the coldness and re 
 serve which was creeping between us ; and I said to myself, " God 
 helping me, it shall be so no longer" I arose silently and retired 
 to my room, where I prayed fervently for strength to tear up every 
 root of unkindness, distrust and jealousy which I had* cherished 
 toward my dear husband. I was happier already. 
 
 Long before I had begun to expect them, the family returned 
 from morning service. I heard the outer door open, and Frank, 
 after ascertaining that I was not in the parlor, hastened up stairs. 
 I smiled as I held out my hand to him, and said, " I did not ex 
 pect you so soon." 
 
 He did not return the smile, but pressed my hand against his 
 heart, and said with emotion, " Oh, Cora ! CORA ! ! " 
 
 At that moment the bell rang for dinner, and Frank putting my 
 hand in his arm led me below. Oh ! how my heart bounded at 
 thi.s simple act of tenderness ! I felt strong to endure whatever 
 insults Fidelia might offer. " If I only have my husband's love," 
 I said to myself, " I defy you to injure me."
 
 144 CORA. AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 When we were seated at dinner, Joseph said, " what have you 
 been doing, Cousin Cora? I never before saw you look so 
 happy." All eyes were turned toward me, and I caught one 
 glance of love from my dear Frank which certainly did not 
 diminish my color. 
 
 Fidelia noticed it, and looked at Frank as if she thought her 
 self personally aggrieved, while the next moment she cast a glance 
 of defiance at her husband in reply to the scornful sneer with 
 which he regarded her. The Doctor persisted in being silent, 
 and kept his eyes fixed on his plate, notwithstanding all his cousin's 
 attempts to engage him in conversation, while Joseph bit his lips 
 to keep from laughing to see her for once so completely foiled. 
 
 The moment dinner was over, Frank turned to leave the room, 
 after giving me an imploring glance to accompany him ; but not 
 before his cousin had stepped forward and laying her hand on his 
 arm detained him while she said something I could not hear. 
 
 " Impossible ! " he replied aloud, " I am otherwise engaged ; " 
 and he led me from the room. A malignant scowl darkened her 
 face ; but I think Frank did not see it. We entered our room, 
 but had hardly closed the door when some one knocked. With a 
 gesture of impatience he opened it, when to my surprise Mr. 
 Schuyler stood in the passage pale and trembling from suppressed 
 excitement. 
 
 " Can I speak one word with you, Doctor ? " 
 
 " Certainly, walk in." 
 
 " Perhaps you will think me strange ; but you will excuse my 
 asking you if you love my wife ? " 
 
 Frank started forward with the simple word, " Sir," in a tone 
 which implied that he considered the question an insult. 
 
 " Yet," continued Mr. Schuyler, " My wife affirms that such is 
 the case ; and that during the last few days you have repeatedly 
 told her so." 
 
 I had fallen back in my chair when Frank's looks arrested my 
 attention. There was not a particle of color in his face or lips,
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 145 
 
 aii 1 for a moment there was a terrible struggle to control his 
 aa;;er; but at length he said, in a low, firm voice, " She has de- 
 cc vedyou. I have never loved her. From a boy I have loathed 
 hi i- character. God forgive me," he added in a hoarse voice, 
 " but I can hardly hear her name with patience. She has even 
 eii'.leavored to" with a quick glance of sorrow at me, he 
 checked himself, and then exclaimed, turning to the window to 
 co iceal his feelings, " Oh, why did I believe her ? " 
 
 " Enough," said Mr. Schuyler, whose countenance had gradually 
 aMumed a fixedness of expression dreadful to witness, "I see you 
 ai i aware of the intrinsic beauty, and loveliness of the character of 
 th i woman I have the honor to call my wife." These words Were 
 sa id in a tone of bitter irony which it is impossible to describe ; 
 bi t he immediately added, lowering his voice, " Dr. Lenox, I 
 h; re foolishly distrusted your honor. I ask your forgiveness." 
 
 Frank wrung his hand as he said, " Mr. Schuyler, from my 
 very soul I pity you." 
 
 '' I rather think, sir, you '11 have a call for your pity in another 
 di rection," pointing compassionately toward me ; " mine eyes have 
 not been so blinded by my own misery, that I have not seen how 
 your wife suffered." 
 
 Frank shook with emotion as he hastily bolted the door, and 
 took a seat near me. I had covered my face with iny hands, and 
 was trying to force myself to be calm. 
 
 '' Cora," said he, in a voice which trembled in spite of himself, 
 " won't you look at me ? Oh, Cora, you used to love me ! " 
 
 " Dear, dear Frank," I said, throwing my arms around his neck, 
 " I love you now. I have always loved you." 
 
 lie pressed me silently to his heart. " Cora," he asked, turning 
 my face where he could look into my eyes, " tell me truly, do you 
 not love Joseph Morgan ? " 
 
 (), wljat a world of light that one question let into my soull 
 I . ;>rang joyfully to my feet, and looking him fully in the face, 
 " My dear husband," I answered, " as I love, honor and fear my 
 
 13
 
 146 COKA AND THE DOCTOR ; 
 
 Maker, I have not, and never have had one thought or feeling 
 toward him unfaithful to you as my wedded companion, nor has 
 he ever given me reason to suspect that he felt toward me other- 
 \vise than as he would feel toward a dear sister, or cousin. Oh, 
 Frank ! how could I, when I loved you so dearly ? " I could endure 
 it no longer, but burst into tears. 
 
 " Then, may God forgive me," murmured he with a convulsive 
 sob. " But I can never forgive myself. " 
 
 It was a long time before I was composed enough to hear him 
 explain ; and he had hardly entered upon the subject, when he 
 was seized with giddiness, and in attempting to reach the table for 
 some water, was obliged to catch hold of the bed post to save 
 himself from falling. I forgot everything else in my anxiety for 
 him. . I knew that he had been dangerously ill with attacks of this 
 kind in former years, and after assisting him to reach the bed, I 
 ran below for Aunt Morgan. She and Joseph immediately went 
 to him. When they approached the bed the Doctor held out his 
 hand to Joseph, while with the other he pressed his throbbing 
 brow. " Cousin," he said humbly, " I have wronged you, greatly 
 wronged you." 
 
 " In what ? " asked Joseph in surprise. 
 
 "I have been led to believe that you and Cora loved each 
 other ; loved as you ought not. Can you forgive me ? " 
 
 The hoarse voice, and suppressed breathing showed cousin, that 
 this was no time for a joke, and he answered gravely, " truly 
 and fully." 
 
 " Thank you," replied the Doctor in a whisper. 
 
 " Frank," I said, as his paleness every moment increased, " I 
 shall send for a physician, or can you prescribe for yourself? " He 
 requested Joseph to go across the street to the druggists and pro 
 cure some medicine which he named. He then said to aunt, " I 
 used to have these turns long ago, but have not for a year or 
 two." 
 
 When cousin returned with the phial I administered the ciedi
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 147 
 
 cii e according to his direction, when he told aunt, if it would not 
 b< giving too much trouble, -he should like some strong mustard 
 dr lughts for his feet. 
 
 After half an hour, a fire had been made in the room, and the 
 p< ultices had begun to take effect. He felt -his pulse, and asked 
 m 3 to administer another dose of the medicine. Seeing that I 
 Ic jked very much troubled, he said gently, " try, my love, to com- 
 p< ise your feelings. It is true I am very sick ; but I tell you the 
 truth when I say, there is probably no danger, provided I keep 
 p< :rfectly free from excitement, and the medicine operates favor 
 ably. I know exactly what to do." 
 
 I was turning away to hide my tears when he drew me down 
 t( him and whispered, " say once more, dear Cora, that you for 
 give me ! " It was almost more than I could bear ; but I choked 
 back my sobs, and assured him again and again of my love and 
 entire forgiveness. 
 
 I had been moving quietly about the room preparing for the 
 night, when aunt came in, and said she or Joseph would watch 
 \vith Frank. But I told her nothing should induce me to leave 
 him. This was said in a whisper, but Frank heard it, and said, 
 " let her stay. I am already relieved, and shall need nothing. I 
 shall rest far better if she is by my side." 
 
 Aunt put her hand on his head. " Doctor, you are very ill, I 
 shall send for a physician immediately. Your head is burning 
 up, and fairly throbs with violence." 
 
 Frank's face lit up almost into a smile, as he said, " It is easy 
 iobear that; the pain is all gone here," putting his hand to his 
 heart. 
 
 " Dear husband," said I, " don't think of that now ; only re 
 member that I am your own Cora, and try to go to sleep." Dear 
 aunt had to take off her glasses and wipe them twice before she 
 could see ; and she would not be contented until she had brought 
 him some hot herb tea, which he consented to take, as it might 
 hasten the operation of the medicine.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 " 0, women, men's subducrs ! 
 Nature's extremes, no mean is to be had, 
 Excellent good or infinitely bad." DAVENPORT. 
 
 " 0, jealousy ! thou merciless destroyer, 
 More cruel than the grave ! what ravages 
 Does thy wild war make in the noblest bosoms ! " 
 
 MALLET! 
 
 Saturday, October 2<ith. 
 
 BY half past eleven on the evening of this attack, Frank was 
 so much relieved, that I felt it safe to go to bed, and slept sweetly 
 for the first time for more than a week. The next morning lie 
 pronounced the difficulty entirely removed, but confessed that the 
 powerful medicine, he had taken, made him very weak. I carried 
 him some breakfast to the bed, after which I took my work and 
 sat by his side. I would not allow him to talk, and was only 
 too happy in the thought that all the coldness and reserve which 
 hnd caused each of us so much unhappiness had passed, and 
 now only appeared like a troubled dream. My heart was buoyant 
 with hope and happiness, and as I ever and anon looked up from 
 my work and met the eye of my husband fixed upon me with its 
 former look of love, I felt that my Heavenly Father had answered 
 my prayers, and restored unto me the heart, I feared, was 
 estranged from me forever. 
 
 Aunt came up and sat down on the foot of the bed. After
 
 REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 149 
 
 Fr. nk had assured her that all the danger had passed, and that, 
 wii 'i the exception of being weak, he was as well as ever, she 
 be: an to say something of Fidelia. I had taken my breakfast 
 lai -, and had not seen her since we parted at the dinner table 
 ye ::erday. Now I thought I recognized her step in the entry, 
 an ! looked with dread at the door. Aunt perceived my agitation 
 an' I asked me what was the matter. 
 
 I can't see Fidelia," I almost screamed, as I heard the latch 
 mi ve. Aunt stepped to the door and locked it, while Frank said, 
 "There is more in this than I thought. There must have been 
 some underhand work here." He stopped suddenly at a quick 
 lo( k from aunt. 
 
 You will probably not see her again," she said gravely, " she 
 ha i returned home." 
 
 ; "Would to God, she had never left it ! " murmured Frank. 
 
 : When did she go ? " I asked joyfully. 
 
 'About an hour since," was her reply. It was hard for me to 
 conceal my joy at her unexpected departure. 
 
 About noon Frank arose and went below. Uncle and Joseph 
 were very glad to see him ; and when my husband sat down by me 
 and put his arm about me, uncle said, " that is as husband and wife 
 should be." He was obliged to get up and go to the window to 
 wipe his glasses, before he could go on with his reading. 
 
 Joseph did not let the Doctor off quite so easily. " Cousin 
 Frank," said he familiarly, "I've found out that if I don't want 
 to be jealous of my wife, I must be so attentive to her as to ex 
 clude all others. Now if you had appeared like that all the time, 
 why you see " he hesitated "I should have lost all the fun." 
 
 We all laughed at his comical manner, though I saw that Frank 
 fell it keenly. "We'll talk of that by and by," he said gravely. 
 
 u Excuse me," resumed Joseph," I really did n't mean anything, 
 't\v;,s only a foolish way I have of turning everything into a 
 joke." 
 
 " Yes, my son, you 're very foolish," said aunt's voice ; but her 
 
 13*
 
 150 CORA AND THE DOCTOR ; 
 
 eyes told a different story as she looked over her glasses with the 
 most tender affection upon her only child. 
 
 " By the way," continued the young ruan, coming and occupying 
 a seat on the sofa near me, " have you plead my cause yet, Cora ? " 
 
 What cause ? " 
 
 " Why in regard to the fair hand of your daughter Pauline." 
 He then begged the Doctor's consent, saying, " if it will make any 
 essential difference in the case, I will get on my knees before 
 you ; but if you could excuse it, as my pants are new, I shall be 
 under the greater obligation." 
 
 Uncle and aunt laughed till they cried as he went on in the 
 most ludicrous manner possible ; sometimes standing before the 
 mirror prinking and talking to his own image ; and then practis 
 ing " courting " upon his mother. Entirely forgetful of the new 
 ness of his pants he knelt before her, and in heart-rending tones 
 besought her to be gracious to his suit ; and when she nodded 
 assent to his wishes, rapturously kissed her hands. Then with a 
 low bow to the company, while brushing his fingers through his 
 hair, he said in the gravest tone, " I find it necessary, ladies and 
 gentlemen, to practise occasionally. There is nothing in this 
 business like keeping one's hand in. Practice makes perfect." 
 
 After dinner, Frank told uncle he was desirous of seeing the 
 family together at some convenient time, and uncle replied that 
 he would arrange his business so that he could spend the evening 
 at home. 
 
 Frank had told me before, that he wished to explain some 
 things in his conduct, and thought he ought to do so before the 
 family, as they had witnessed what had passed. During the 
 afternoon he was so tender and devoted to me that I more than 
 half determined to tell him all Fidelia's story to me, and have it 
 settled at once, but before I had really decided, we had taken tea, 
 and having attended prayers were all seated around the social 
 hearth waiting for Frank to say what he wished. He commenced 
 with the remark, it was extremely painful to him to be obliged to
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 151 
 
 8:! y anything unfavorable to the character of another; but, he 
 c< ntinued, " in order to explain, I do not say extenuate, my con- 
 dict toward my wife, I must inform you that on the very first 
 c 1 ,'ening of my arrival, Fidelia succeeded in planting a thorn in 
 ri y heart, and from that time until yesterday, she never ceased to 
 s iggcst or hint at, ideas which made me fear that the affection of 
 iny wife for me, if not her very virtue, was endangered by her 
 intimacy with her cousin." 
 
 Joseph started upon his feet, and I covered my face ; but 
 ]'rank said, "sit down, Joseph; you can well afford to hear; 
 } our conscience is at rest, while mine " he stopped, he had evi- 
 ( cntly schooled himself for the interview. " After this," he con- 
 1 iaued, " it was astonishing how many trivial events occurred which 
 ; ppeared at the time to corroborate her story ; and she failed not to 
 make use of them. For instance, I saw you, cousin, take Cora's 
 hand in what to my inflamed imagination seemed too familiar a 
 manner; at another time I heard you say, you should wish a 
 wife in all respects like her, and various other things which I 
 f-hould not condescend to name, were it not to show you that with 
 her whisperings and hints, these had grown to such a magnitude 
 in my mind, that I was prepared to believe anything." 
 
 Joseph interrupted him and began to make some explanations, 
 but Frank would not allow a word to be said. " My dear cousin," 
 lie continued, "I know you will not insult me by offering an ex 
 planation for what existed only in my heated imagination, and 
 which now that I have recovered my reason, I loathe myself for 
 indulging. I thought it over in the night, and was astonished at 
 my blindness ; for you both were so perfectly open in your con- 
 d.ict, I do not at all wonder tkat my little Cora feared me as she 
 did." 
 
 " Ah," said I, determining bravely to tell my story, " there is 
 another side to that." They all looked at me in amazement, as I 
 began at the beginning and related all I had felt and suffered. I 
 confessed all my hard feelings toward Frank, and all my jealousy
 
 152 COKA AND THE DOCTOK; 
 
 of Fidelia. It was now the Doctor's turn to start up in awful indig 
 nation. I told him how I had been led as in his case, to see 
 everything through a false medium, and I had feared that the 
 affection, she told me they had formerly felt for each other, had 
 revived to such a degree as to make him regret that the marriage 
 of both prevented their union. 
 
 The intensity of Joseph's feelings kept him silent. " Well," 
 said uncle, at length, " Fidelia is rightly punished for her fiendish 
 plot in trying to alienate your affections from each other." 
 
 " How ? " I eagerly inquired. 
 
 He turned to aunt, who said, " I thought it best at the time to 
 say nothing about it. I merely told them she was gone." 
 
 Uncle resumed his seat, and sitting very erect in his chair, said, 
 " Mr. Schuyler went out soon after you were taken sick, and has 
 not yet returned. His wife insisted that AVC should take no pains 
 to bring him back. She said she wasn't going to have him think, 
 she would run after him. But I could see, as hour after hour 
 passed away, she grew anxious and impatient for his return. 
 This morning, when we were seated at breakfast, a boy brought 
 a note from him directed to me, in which he said that before that 
 letter reached us he should be on his way to Germany, where lie 
 intended to pass the rest of his life. He enclosed fifty dollars for 
 his wife, which he said was all she should ever have from him, 
 and closed by saying it was her own fault that she had not a happy 
 home and a devoted husband ; and that if she had been willing to 
 accede to his wishes, she would at least have been the owner of a 
 handsome estate. That was true," added uncle, " he wished to 
 buy a beautiful place on the Hudson which he offered to settle 
 upon her, but she would not consent to live in so retired a situa 
 tion. I used all my influence with her to no purpose." 
 
 " Where is she now?" I asked. 
 
 " When she received the note, or rather when I read it to her, 
 and gave her the money, she was at first very angry, and thought 
 he only wrote it to frighten her ; but I soon convinced her that
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OP A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 153 
 
 I tl ought otherwise, when she suddenly started for New York, 
 where they had been boarding since their marriage, in the hope 
 of detaining him." 
 
 ] rank looked very thoughtful, but said nothing ; and we all sat 
 for ', few moments thinking of the probabilities of her overtaking 
 bin . and of her success in obtaining his forgiveness. I who knew 
 mo;<3 of his feelings than any one present, doubted it, but I wisely 
 con eluded to keep my knowledge to myself. 
 
 .:vt length Joseph jumped up, saying, " I should think we were/ 
 in v Quaker meeting; let's play 'button, button, who's got the 
 button?"' 
 
 ' Wouldn't it be more pleasant," asked Frank, smiling, " to 
 ha^. e Cora give you an account of a Quaker wedding we attend 
 ed on our way here ? " 
 
 ' Yes, yes, that's just the thing ; come let's act it out ! Here, 
 Co '.-a, take my arm, tell me what to say, and I'll repeat it off just 
 like a book. I believe they always kiss their lady first, don't 
 they ? Come, why don't you stand up and begin. It's placing a 
 bashful young fellow, like me, in a very embarrassing situation, 
 when his wife that is to be won't stand with him at the altar." 
 
 Though I could not help laughing, yet I would not consent to 
 "act it out," as he said, unless Frank Avould officiate as bride 
 groom, but as uncle and aunt both joined in the request to see the 
 ceremony, I persuaded my husband to gratify them. When we 
 were through, Joseph said, we Avere so solemn about it, he felt 
 just as thirsty as if he had been to a real wedding, and asked if 
 there were not some wine in the house. Aunt shook her head, 
 but he went out and soon brought in a waiter of wine glasses, filled 
 however, with lemonade, after which the conversation passed nat- 
 urnlly to other themes. 
 
 The remainder of the week passed delightfully ; I gained every 
 day in health ; and the Doctor took me with him to many places 
 of interest in the vicinity. Fidelia's name had not been merf- 
 tioned in the week which had intervened since her departure, ex-
 
 154 GORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 cept in one remark Frank made to me on the Monday evening 
 previous. He said, " You probably noticed that I gave no ex 
 planation of many of her statements ; and though I deny ever 
 having felt any affection for her, such as she describes, and hard 
 ly what the relationship warranted, yet I wish to defer any farther 
 conversation upon the subject until we arrive home." 
 
 I told him, I should be glad to do so, but that I wanted him to 
 promise me one thing ; I was proceeding to tell him what, when 
 he said "Anything, everything ; I have the most entire confi 
 dence in you, my love." So we promised each other, that the 
 past should only be remembered as a warning ; we felt that our 
 only security for happiness in the married relation was, next to 
 our God, in entire confidence in each other, and we resolved 
 never to lie down at night with one unkind thought treasured up, 
 which each had not given the other an opportunity to explain. 
 
 On the day before we left aunt Morgan, a letter was received 
 from Mrs. Schuyler, in which she said, she found on her arrival 
 in New York city, that her husband had indeed taken passage for 
 Europe, and that on the whole she considered it the most fortu 
 nate thing which could have happened for her, as his jealous dis 
 position had always prevented her having any enjoyment. In a 
 postscript she added, that she had been invited to go to the South 
 and pass the winter with some delightful acquaintances, she had 
 formed, and that she anticipated great pleasure in their society. She 
 said, she now considered herself in every respect as a widow, and 
 hoped her friends would never mortify her by any allusion to the 
 man, she had called her husband. In a second postscript she 
 requested that her trunks should be sent to the care of William 
 Arnold, Esq. 
 
 When aunt had finished reading, Frank and I exchanged 
 glances. That was the name of Lucy Lee's suitor, and we knew 
 too much of him to expect she would profit much by his society. 
 . We left our dear friends early on Tuesday morning, having 
 obtained a promise from Joseph to make us an early visit. A
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 155 
 
 da ' or two after we reached home, I noticed Frank in earnest 
 conversation with mother; after which he requested me to go to 
 ho in the library. I went reluctantly, for indeed I was now so 
 lu: tpy, I cared for no farther explanation. But as I saw Frank 
 attributed my unwillingness to a wrong cause, I took Emily's arm 
 an I went at once to the library, where mother gave me the follow- 
 in r account. 
 
 " Fidelia Lenox was left an orphan at the age of fifteen, and 
 was immediately received into her uncle's family, and treated in 
 al . respects as their own child. She was one year younger than 
 F'.-ank, and of course they were constantly in each other's society. 
 But it was not long before mother perceived that from being 
 willing and apparently pleased to be with his cousin, Frank avoided 
 her as much as possible, and often refused positively to accompany 
 her to parties of young people. Mother did not at first pay much 
 attention to the circumstance until her son's conduct became so 
 narked as to require a reproof, especially as she could perceive 
 nothing in the deportment of her niece to elicit such dislike. She 
 therefoi'e appealed to him as a gentleman that it was in the highest 
 degree impolite and unkind to treat his cousin otherwise than he 
 would treat a sister. 
 
 For a long time Frank refused to give any explanation of his 
 conduct; but at length told his mother that he would agree to 
 treat her as a sister, if she would be content with that. 
 
 " What can she ask more ? " inquired mother, in surprise. 
 
 Frank, like any boy of sixteen, blushed crimson, as he replied, 
 impulsively : " She is altogether too sentimental for me. She can 
 talk .about nothing but love, and such nonsense. "When the time 
 comes for me to be married, I mean to do the courting myself." 
 
 Mother was silent, from amazement, and tried to recall a single 
 circumstance to corroborate his statement. "I hardly know how 
 t<> believe it of Fidelia," she at length replied. 
 
 " Mother," said Frank " if you do not believe me, enter suddenly
 
 156 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 * 
 
 and unexpectedly into the library or anywhere we may chance to 
 be left alone a moment, and you will see enough." 
 
 " What ? " she asked, under her breath. 
 
 " Why, she runs her fingers through my hair, and she sits by 
 me and looks up in my face in a fawning manner. Bah ! " he 
 continued, " it's too disgusting. If she hears the least sound, she 
 darts back to her seat, and there she sits as demure and proper as 
 any old maid. I often wish," he added, half laughing, " she'd get 
 caught at some of her fooleries." 
 
 After this, mother kept a strict surveillance of the conduct of 
 her neice, and soon became convinced that she was a dangerous 
 companion for her son, especially as she paid not the slightest re 
 gard to truth. She therefore sent her away to a family-school, 
 where she was under the constant watch of her teacher. But she 
 could not prevent Frank meeting her occasionally, as they both 
 spent their holidays at home ; and she confessed to me that she 
 should have shuddered for the virtue of her son, had he not ex 
 hibited such a loathing for the character of his cousin. The time 
 came when she must leave school, and her conduct had become so 
 reprehensible that mother would not consent that Emily should 
 be under her influence ; and she has resided, until her marriage, 
 with a distant relative in the State of New York. 
 
 It was thus that Frank had not met her for several years, and 
 as they were both married, he had been willing to forget the past, 
 and treat her at least with kindness. But having had reason to 
 know her want of principle, he feels he had no excuse for giving 
 heed to her cruel hints and falsehoods. We have tacitly agreed 
 to let her name be forgotten, and I devoutly hope I shall never 
 have occasion to remember it. 
 
 Tuesday, October 27th. 
 
 My dear, dear mother, now that I have told you all the sorrows, 
 trials and follies of the past month, I will turn to other and far
 
 OR, REVELATIOXS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 157 
 
 ri pleasing themes. My dear little Pauline was almost wild 
 witl: joy to see papa and mamma at home again. I found her 
 look ng very chubby and rosy, having gained in strength since the 
 cool weather. 
 
 This season is perfectly charming. It is called the Indian sum 
 mer I can give you no just description of the gorgeousness of 
 the brcst trees with which we are surrounded. As 1 was riding 
 thro ;gh a thick grove yesterday, on my way to Waverley, 1 
 coul 1 almost imagine myself in fairy land. The air was mild and 
 bah ay as in June, and there was a freshness and dryncss in the 
 atm isphere which was perfectly exhilarating. 
 
 I think I remarked to you near the commencement of my 
 journal, that Mrs. Munroe, the wife of our clergyman, was absent 
 from town. She returned while we were away. I called there 
 yesterday, in company with Emily and Pauline. Mrs. Munroe 
 isn.ther above the medium height, with a very intelligent, not 
 han Isomc, countenance; and a splendid set of teeth. She im- 
 pra sed me as a very superior lady ; there is a dignity, a quiet 
 repo.-e in her manner which I admire. 
 
 After conversing a few moments, I expressed a wish to see 'her 
 infant; when she immediately went out and brought it to the 
 parlor, accompanied by a sister who is visiting her. I don't think 
 Pauline ever saw a baby before, and she looked at the little crea 
 ture with a serious, thoughtful expression, frequently sighing from 
 the intensity of her feelings. We all joined in a laugh at her ex- 
 pen^r. But when the baby began to cry, poor Pauline started, 
 and grew very red. I didn't like to have her feel so, and I took the 
 infant into my lap, and put its little soft hand in hers. When she 
 had felt the velvety flesh, and came to the ' conclusion that it was 
 really alive, she was pleased enough ; and had to make a great 
 effort to keep from crying that I did not bring it home with me. 
 
 I made early inquiries on my return as to the present situation 
 of Squire Lee's family ; and was happy to learn that in many 
 respects Lucy's situation is far more comfortable than formerly. 
 
 14
 
 158 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 Her father still continues feeble in body and mind, but he has 
 grown so dependent on his daughter, and is so pleased with her 
 tender care, that he can hardly bear her out of his sight. She 
 reads newspapers to him, combs his hair, and soothes him by the 
 hour together. She hopes soon to interest him in the Bible, by 
 reading daily, delightful selections from it. I fear the poor old 
 gentleman has not enough sense to understand, as he often falls 
 asleep in his chair, lulled by the sound of her sweet voice. 
 
 Joseph Lee has taken up his residence in the city, only return 
 ing occasionally to obtain his father's signature to a check. He 
 swears that the house is just like a tomb ever since the " old fellow" 
 was taken sick. As he has the last will safe in his possession, he 
 gives himself no concern about Lucy. 
 
 A few mornings after my return I requested Ann to build a 
 fire in my room, while I gave Pauline her morning bath ; when 
 she brought up a great quantity of brush which would light quickly. 
 The sight of this reminded me of the children, Anna and Willie. I 
 am ashamed to say, that with so many other subjects to occupy my 
 thoughts my proteges had passed entirely out of my mind. I in 
 quired concerning them of mother, and learned that they had 
 made great advances in Phebe's good graces, by having completely 
 filled the wood shed with the brush, which Cresar had chopped 
 early in the season, and had left in the orchard to dry. They 
 had come regularly day after day, had taken their dinner at the 
 house, and returned at night carrying a basket of food, or some 
 useful article to their mother. 
 
 Frank and I are more delighted than we can express with the 
 change in Emily. To be sure, she never has such high spirits as 
 formerly ; but she is cheerful and affectionate to mother and all 
 of us. 
 
 "\Vhcn I recall to mind the sad forebodings, I had while in B , 
 
 thinking my happiness had gone forever, and then realize what a 
 united, happy family we are, my heart is ready to burst with 
 gratitude.
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 159 
 
 Cur 
 
 " Home is the resort 
 
 Of love, of joy, of peace and plenty, where, 
 Supporting and supported, polished friends 
 And dear relations mingle into bliss." 
 
 Saturday, October 31st. 
 
 "sow that Frank knows my whole heart, I hope he will cease 
 
 fro:n self-accusation for what passed at B . I was sitting at 
 
 my desk writing when he came in. I looked up with a smile ; 
 bui he only made a faint attempt to return it. I instantly shut 
 m} desk, and went unbidden to sit upon his knee. He put his 
 OTJ a about me, but did not speak. To divert his thoughts, I asked 
 him about his patients. 
 
 ' Cora, my dear wife," said he interrupting me, " I would give 
 all I posses^" (' including me,' I whispered,) " if you could open 
 your heart to me as you do to your mother in that journal." 
 
 " Why, Frank, I will tell you all you would like to know. I 
 caa't think of anything I wish to conceal from you." 
 
 " Is n't there," he asked in an agitated voice, and hiding his 
 fa^e behind me, " Is n't there, away down at the bottom of your 
 heart a feeling, which if brought out to the light, would read, ' I 
 think I have been cruelly insulted by my husband, and I can never 
 love and respect him as I once did ? ' " 
 
 ' Frank," I exclaimed, starting to my feet, " let me feel your 
 pulse. I will order draughts for your feet. You surely have had 
 a return of your giddiness, or you would not insult your wife by 
 such suspicions. When you are sufficiently recovered to bear it, 
 you shall take the said journal of which you are so jealous, and 
 retiring to the privacy of the library, you shall then and there 
 learn all that your wife thinks of you." 
 
 " Dearest," he replied, " you will do me the greatest favor by 
 
 allowing me to peruse that part of it relating to ." I put my 
 
 hand to his mouth, which he held there. Then I went to my desk, 
 and separating the sheets containing the account of our visit to
 
 160 CORA AND THE DOCTOR. 
 
 B , I put them into his hand. When he had left the room, 
 
 I could not help smiling at the look with which he took the papers. 
 It was something liRe that of a boy who anticipates a pretty 
 severe whipping. I began to feel sorry, I had written so much 
 about jealousy, and feared he would think that I attached more 
 importance to it than I do ; for indeed I love my husband, if 
 possible, better than ever. 
 
 It was four or five hours before I saw him again, and I started 
 to go to him, when I heard Ca;sar knock repeatedly at the library 
 door without receiving an answer. I therefore waited Avith great 
 impatience. At length my husband came to my room, where 
 Pauline was playing about the floor, and I knew by his Jooks, 
 he had been much agitated. I sprang to meet him, when he 
 clasped me in his arms, saying, " Dearest and best of wives, tell 
 me again, that you forgive me. How very inhuman 1 have 
 been ! " 
 
 "Are you sorry you read it," I asked ? 
 
 " No, no .' " he replied eagerly, " I thank you more than I can 
 express." 
 
 " "Well, then, will you promise never to think of it more ? " 
 
 " Yes, except as a powerful motive to be a better, and kinder 
 husband to the most affectionate and forgiving of wives." He 
 added, " I have prayed, with the record of your sufferings before 
 me, for pardon and strength for the future." 
 
 " Dear Frank, did you pray for me too ? " 
 
 " Yes, love, I prayed that sve might be spared many years ; and 
 that each year we might be increasingly happy in each other, and 
 useful to our fellow creatutes." Then lowering his vioce to a 
 whisper, he added, " I prayed too for one who endeavored to 
 injure us, that she might find space for repentance." 

 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 " Such a house broke ! 
 So noble n. master fallen ! all gone ! and not 
 One friend, to take his fortune by the arm, 
 And go along with him." SIIAKSPEAEE. 
 
 Wednesday, November 4th. 
 
 I HAVE been to the little hut occupied by William Reynolds and 
 family, to see what had become of the children. Frank thinks it 
 would be well to put them to school. It shall be my care to pro- 
 vHe them suitable clothing. This, I can depend upon Miss 
 Proctor to assist me in making up. 
 
 We found the poor woman seated in an old rocking-chair, and 
 looking very miserable. Her husband beat her badly a few nights 
 since, for interfering, when he was, as he said, administering proper 
 chastisement to Willie. Since that time, she can hardly turn her 
 head or see out of one eye. Her nearest neighbor, hearing a 
 great noise, ran to the house, and secured William. The next day 
 the same man brought a complaint against the inebriate for abuse 
 of wife and children, and for refusing to provide for their support. 
 He is now in the county jail, from which he is to be carried to the 
 House of Correction for three months. 
 
 In the midst of their poverty, the children are really uncom 
 monly prepossessing and intelligent. It is easy to see what they 
 would have been if nurtured in a home of competence and com 
 fort. At the time we entered, Anna was standing on an old stool 
 behind her mother's chair, trying to smpothe out the long auburn 
 tresses, and twist them under the cap. I felt no repugnance to 
 the act when I took the broken comb from her hand, and made a 
 
 14*
 
 162 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 beautiful knot at the back of her mother's head. I then bathed 
 ' her poor bruised temple ; and promising to do something for her 
 immediate relief, we left her. 
 
 I have become much interested in the history of this unfortunate 
 family. Anna, the mother of my proteges, is the daughter of Mr, 
 and Mrs. Ryland who lived in Waverley. Anna was the elder 
 of four children, two of whom died in infancy, leaving only the 
 subject of this sketch and Edward her younger brother to crown 
 the hopes of their afflicted parents. Mr. Eyland was in the pos 
 session of a valuable farm, part of which was left him by his 
 parents ; but which he had greatly enlarged and improved by his 
 own exertions. A new house had been erected on the site of the 
 old one, and everything in and about it exhibited the appearance 
 so common among the farmers of New England, of independ 
 ence, comfort and respectability. 
 
 Anna and her brother had been educated with care, and after 
 enjoying and improving the school advantages of the place, they 
 had been sent in turn to academies at a distance. 
 
 Early in life Anna had become attached and affianced to 
 "William Reynolds, son of a neighboring farmer who was regarded 
 as one of the most intelligent and enterprising young men in 
 Waverley. Certainly his noble figure, and bright handsome face, 
 made him a welcome guest, not' only at the Ryland farm, but in 
 every place where he chose to visit. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Ryland looked upon William with no little pride 
 as the betrothed of their daughter, while she was at the same time 
 the admiration and envy of the young people of her acquaintance. 
 William Reynolds waited only long enough to be able to erect a 
 neat comfortable cottage upon a spot of ground in Crawford, 
 which had been his inheritance from his father's estate before he 
 brought his Anna to be its presiding genius. 
 
 With Anna, thei-e came to Rose Cottage, as the young bride 
 styled her new home, wagon loads of the neatest of furniture 
 purchased by her father. From the neatly finished attic to the
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 163 
 
 ,vell stored cellar, eacli apartment received its appropriate part of 
 :he new goods. White fringed curtains nicely looped aside with 
 ribbon, were hung in her spare chamber, or the one set aside for 
 company, while a gay carpet covered the floor of the parlor. 
 Beside these two rooms on the lower floor, there was also a 
 spacious kitchen, and a bed-room opening from it, which they 
 intended for their own use, while beyond was a large shed con 
 necting the house and barn. This, the neat housewife secretly 
 determined, should, at least in summer, serve them for a kitchen, 
 so that that apartment could be kept more tidy for the eating and 
 sitting room. 
 
 As soon as they were settled, Anna's brother Edward was to 
 constitute a part of their family. Not at all desirous to pursue 
 the calling of his father, Mr. Ryland wisely concluded to allow 
 him to follow the bent of his inclinations, justly supposing he 
 would rise to greater usefulness by so doing. It must be supposed, 
 however, that it was no small sacrifice for these excellent parents 
 to part with their son from under the parental roof when he ob 
 tained a situation in Crawford, even though he would be under 
 the care and influence of his sister. 
 
 Time passed on. The roses which had been transplanted from 
 the old place, and which had given the name to their home, grew 
 as if by magic. In his leisure hours, "William under the direction 
 of his tasteful wife, had made trellises a few feet from the win 
 dow ; and now the luxurious roses and vines almost reached the 
 top. But within this sweet abode, in a cradle which had rocked 
 her own infancy, there was indeed a new blown rose, unfolding 
 its sweetness amidst the most tender care and love. 
 
 William, ever active and industrious, was accounted one of the 
 most thriving farmers in the place ; while Anna by her neatness, 
 and good housewifery, had so won upon the good will of their em 
 ployers, that whoever else returned from market, heavily laden as 
 they went, with their own produce, William never failed to find
 
 164 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 customers, eager to purchase at an advanced price Anna's butter 
 and cheese. 
 
 But about this time a little cloud arose in their horizon. Ed 
 ward, who had been rapidly gaining upon the esteem and confi 
 dence of his employers, was by the sudden death of the head of 
 the firm, thrown out of employment. His services however were 
 eagerly sought as accountant, and book-keeper, in the great ware 
 house connected with the distillery, and belonging to Squire Lee. 
 For a time nothing could be said but in praise of the new clerk ; 
 and the old gentleman, warned by the early dissipation of Joseph, 
 that he could expect no aid from him, often hinted to Edward 
 the promise of rapid advancement. But after a few months, 
 Squire Lee noticed that Edward never tasted spirit of any kind ; 
 and he vowed to himself that he would get rid of a fellow whose 
 conduct was a standing reproach to his own intemperance and to 
 his business. 
 
 In fact, Ryland would have preferred a different situation, and 
 had inwardly determined never to be a partner in an employment 
 he could not approve. At that time, he did not realize as he did 
 afterward, the curse that would surely follow those who engaged 
 in the manufacture and sale of ardent spirits for unrighteous pur 
 poses. A great press of business about this period, postponed both 
 in master and clerk, the separation contemplated. 
 
 Late one Saturday evening, Squire Lee visited his counting- 
 room, where Edward was busily employed in making up the ac 
 counts for the week, that he might leave them in a state proper 
 for inspection. 
 
 " That's a fine fallow ! " said the Squire, clapping his clerk up 
 on the shoulder, after he had watched him turning over the jour 
 nal and ledger, and transferring accounts from one to another 
 with great neatness and despatch. " That's something like, now ! " 
 
 Edward made a passing remark about the amount of business 
 the past week, and went on with his work. 
 
 " Yes," resumed the Squire, " that's exactly what I~came to see
 
 OK, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 165 
 
 you about. We've engaged a large amount of rum, our very best, 
 1 o go out Monday morning ; and as we shall make a great profit 
 on it, I must n't disappoint the man. He wants it for a new tav- 
 :-rn somewhere down in . " 
 
 Edward looked from his work a moment, as the old gentleman 
 continued, " I know you like to go home and spend Sunday with 
 the old folks. Some bright eyes watching for you, I suppose," 
 said he, with a leering expression, and trying to be facetious, " but 
 the fact is," bringing his heavy fist down on the desk, " them bills 
 of sale have got to be made out ; and you must give up going 
 home this once, and take an extra day or so another time to give 
 your gal a ride." 
 
 Young Ryland quietly laid the books upon the table, and turn 
 ing round to look his employer full in the face, he said in a firm 
 but respectful tone, " Squire Lee, I will remain here until mid 
 night, and return at the same hour to-morrow night ; but I have 
 been taught to fear God and keep his commandments ; and noth 
 ing could induce me to violate the Sabbath in the way you men 
 tion. " 
 
 " Very well, sir, " replied the Squire, in a voice of suppressed 
 rage, " we shall soon see hoAv that is. Do n't the Bible teach 
 young men to obey their masters ? " he asked in a sneering tone. 
 " Your parents had better have taught you that before they sent 
 you here. " 
 
 Edward stood perfectly calm and unmoved. 
 
 " If you do n't recant, young fellow, and pretty quick too, you've 
 eamt the last dollar you'll ever earn in my store ; " and with a 
 horrible oath he brought down his fist again upon the desk. 
 
 " In that respect, sir, I can never change," said young Ryland ; 
 " I have endeavored faithfully to do my duty since I have been 
 in your employ. But, sir, to tell you the truth, 1 have stretched 
 my conscience in your service by consenting to be employed in 
 an establishment where liquors are manufactured ; and it will be 
 no disappointment to me to leave at this time."
 
 166 CORA AND T11E DOCTOR; 
 
 Squire Lee in a frenzy, turned upon Edward with uplifted arm 
 to strike him to the floor ; but there was something in the expres 
 sion of the young man's eye, which had not for a moment quailed, 
 that restrained him ; and he contented himself by pouring upon 
 him a volley of abuse, intermingled with oaths and curses, such 
 as it made Edward shudder to hear. He calmly turned, closed 
 the books, placed them in the safe, passed the key to the old gen 
 tleman, saying, " In a few moments the business for the week 
 would have been accounted for. I think you will find all correct, 
 as far as I had gone." He took his hat and left, before the Squire 
 had recovered his breath. 
 
 Whether the bills of sale were rendered in due season, or what 
 he thought of Edward's conduct at that time is not known ; but it 
 is certain that after having in vain tried to fill Edward's place to 
 his liking, the Squire took pains to ride out to Rose Cottage. He 
 inquired his whereabouts, expressing a strong desire to get him 
 back. " He was rather too fanatical about his religion, and all 
 that sort of stuff, but a smarter, more faithful or accurate book 
 keeper I never had." 
 
 Mrs. Reynolds informed him that her brother, after leaving his 
 store, had obtained recommendations from individuals acquainted 
 with him while in the employ of the other firm, and had gone 
 directly to New York, where he had speedily procured employ 
 ment. 
 
 Squire Lee was so much disappointed, that Mrs. Reynolds 
 added, that she would write to her brother whom it would be very 
 pleasant to her to have again in her family. 
 
 " Tell him," resumed the Squire, " that I will make his salary 
 just what he says." 
 
 This visit was the small cloud which gradually overspread the 
 whole horizon of the gentle Anna Reynolds. That night when 
 her husband returned home more than usually fatigued from his 
 work, she communicated to him the purpose of the Squire in his
 
 OR, KEVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S AVIFE. 167 
 
 cull, expressing at the same time her conviction that her brother 
 v ould never consent to return to his employ. 
 
 " Why couldn't I get the situation ? " flashed through William'* 
 mind, but he said nothing to his wife until he had finished his out 
 door work; and Anna had soothed her baby to sleep, laid it ii 
 1 10 cradle swept the hearth, and sat down to her sewing, will 
 1 cr foot upon the rocker. 
 
 " What are you thinking of, Willie ? " she asked playfully. 
 'You seem to be looking as earnestly into the fire, as if you* were 
 expecting your new cart and oxen to come walking out of it into 
 the room." 
 
 William smiled as he turned to look at her ; and after a mo- 
 laent's hesitation said, " Wife, I've been thinking it all over, about 
 what Squire Lee said, and I've about come to the conclusion, to 
 pply for the situation myself. That is," he continued, seeing 
 her look of astonishment, " if Edward does not choose to come 
 back." 
 
 Anna gazed intently at him for a moment, and then exclaimed, 
 ' William Reynolds, I really believe you are going mad. Are n't 
 you well ? " she asked, changing her tone. 
 
 William made a faint attempt to laugh as he said, " I expected 
 you'd be astonished at first ; but the fact is, you know I haven't 
 l'i'!t well lately." Anna looked anxious, as this was the first inti 
 mation she had received of his sickness. " And to tell the truth, 
 I always thought it was a foolish move in Edward to give up 
 giich a good place for so trifling a matter, and it was so pleasant 
 having him here." 
 
 " It was, indeed," replied Anna witli a sigh. 
 
 " If the whole must be known," resumed William, " when I 
 went to market, and had been hawing and geeing all day, and 
 called at the Squire's and saw Edward sitting there so cozy and 
 comfortable with nothing to do, but just to write from morning till 
 night ; his salary sure, rain or shine, crops good or bad ; I almost 
 envied him."
 
 168 CORA AND THE DOCTOR ; 
 
 " But what could you do with the farm ? " interrupted Anna. 
 
 " I could get a man to take care of it. There's Joe Clark would 
 take it to the halves, and be glad of the chance. I heard him 
 talking so to a man not more'n a week ago." 
 
 Anna, however, was not Easily convinced of the wisdom of this 
 new movement ; and it required all her husband's arguments to 
 induce her to consent to his making the trial, in case he succeed 
 ed in obtaining the situation. He had when a boy, been at the 
 head of the school in book-keeping, and had often assisted Edward 
 in his accounts when obliged to be up late in the employment of the 
 other firm. In representing to his wife, all the inducements to 
 quit the farm for the counting-room, he did not mention the fact, 
 that the hands employed by the firm, were allowed free access to 
 the barrels of New England rum and Avhisky, piled up against 
 the walls around the building. Indeed there were generally kept 
 kegs especially for their use ; and for them to treat those who 
 came in upon business. It was during the frequent calls he had 
 made upon Edward, that he had imbibed a taste for ardent spirits. 
 Perhaps he thought this argument would not have much weight 
 with his wife. Perhaps he was not himself aware of its power 
 over himself, nor of the strength of his appetite. 
 
 True, it is, that having received a note from his brother-in-law, 
 positively declining the offer of the Squire, accompanied by a note 
 recommending him as competent to fill the place, and also a 
 recommendation from the teacher of the school Avhere he learned 
 the art, Reynolds sallied forth in quest of Squire Lee. He dM 
 not think it necessary to exhibit to that gentleman, neither di i 
 he intend to show his wife, a kind note from Edward accompany 
 ing the other, begging him, by every motive he could urge, to 
 avoid a place so fraught with danger. In the most brotherly 
 manner, Edward told him that he had noticed with fearful antici 
 pations the relish with which, on occasions of his calls at the dis 
 tillery, he had accepted invitations to a glass from the workmen. 
 He also added, that since he had been in New York, he had ascer-
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN" S WIFE. 
 
 1G9 
 
 t: .ined that public sentiment was farther advanced upon the sub- 
 j< ct of intemperance than he had supposed, and that the distil- 
 1. r was beginning to be regarded as an enemy to his brother 
 Man. 
 
 " If," he added at the close, " Squire Lee had proposed to take 
 ru 3 as an equal partner into the firm, instead of the offer he made, 
 ] would not for an instant think of accepting it." 
 
 " All this was no doubt well meant in Edward," soliloquized 
 U'illiam, as he walked to the counting room; "but I always 
 knew he was too stiff in such matters ; even Anna says that." But 
 1 c could not help acknowledging that his wife, and her parents 
 vould view the matter in the same light as the writer, should 
 taeyread the letter. So he considered it more prudent to say 
 i t>thing about it, as he had made up his mind to take the situa 
 tion if he could obtain it. 
 
 Unfortunately for him, and for all connected with him, he did 
 obtain it, and entered at once upon his new duties ; Joe Clark tak 
 ing his place on the farm. 
 
 " Somehow," said Anna, " from the very first, everything 
 seemed to go behind hand. Joe was not so much interested, or at 
 home on the farm as my William ; and then his pay had to come 
 cmt of the 'produce, whether we made little or much ; and though 
 my husband satisfied his employers, and received a good salary, 
 yet I didn't realize much help from it at the cottage. It also 
 weaned him from home, and got him in a way of staying out very 
 late at night; and at length all was gone ; and he mortgaged our 
 beautiful home to the Squire, when Willie was a baby, telling 
 me, he should soon work and get it back again. But every thing 
 went and went, until I and my babes moved to this old shanty, 
 with little more of my nice furniture than the bed on which I lie. 
 Even this, I could have borne, had my husband been left to me. 
 I could work, I 'would do anything for them ; but I have no hus- 
 lu,id. A man calling himself William Reynolds lives here ; that 
 
 15
 
 170 CORA AND THE DOCTOR. 
 
 is, when he is not off on a drunken frolic ; but he is not THE Wil 
 liam Reynolds I married." 
 
 It will be readily seen that though William and his wife were,' 
 at the time of their living in Hose Cottage, moral, and upright in 
 their characters ; yet they were not actuated by the religious prin 
 ciples which were the governing motives of their brother's con 
 duct. But it is to be hoped, that the death of her parents, together 
 with the sad change in her own circumstances, had been blessed 
 to the afflicted woman. Certainly she has been most careful to 
 instil religious principles into the minds of her children. 
 " But where," I asked, " is Edward, her brother ? " 
 " He has never been to Crawford since the death of his parents. 
 William was very angry at his brother's interference, as he term 
 ed it, in matters which did not concern him ; and Anna has not 
 heard from him for several years."
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 " There are smiles and tears in the mother's eyes, 
 For her new born babe beside her lies ; 
 Oh, heaven of bliss ! when the heart o'erflows 
 With the rapture a mother only knows." 
 
 HENRY WARE, JR. 
 
 Tuesday, April 19th, 1836. 
 
 DEAREST MOTHER, Though it has been many a long month 
 since I have had the heart to write in my journal, I cannot let 
 the anniversary of my marriage and departure from home pass 
 a\vay, without at least a few words to the dear family at home. 
 *My breath comes quickly, and my tears blind me when I think, 
 they may be my last. Often my heart sinks, and my spirit faints, 
 as I look forward with an undefined sense of dread to the future. 
 Sometimes I am enabled to look up with trust and confidence to 
 " Him who doeth all things well;" and by faith to take hold of 
 the precious promises peculiarly addressed to me. 
 
 I am blessed with a devoted husband ; a watchful and tender 
 mother, and an affectionate sister. When I think of these mercies, 
 I can only say, " surely my cup runneth over." 
 
 Dear mother, I need not ask your prayers for your daughter. 
 I know that I am remembered whenever you approach the throne, 
 of grace 
 
 My pen dropped from my hand. I was with you in spirit at 
 tin- hour of family prayer. I saw again my own loved and hon 
 ored father in his arm chair, near the table, where open before 
 hi :n lies the sacred page. Near by sit my dear mother and sis 
 ters, while on the opposite side of the room, are our faithful Jen-
 
 172 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 nie and her associates, waiting for the daily instruction, they are 
 in the habit of receiving. When all is still, a chapter is read. 
 Isabel strikes softly the notes of the organ, while all join in a 
 hymn of praise ; then my dear father in a simple, trustful manner, 
 lays the wants of each one of the bowed circle before our Heav 
 enly Father. 
 
 " The voices of my home! I hear them still! 
 
 They have been with me through the dreamy night 
 The blessed household voices, wont to fill 
 
 My heart's clear depths with unalloy'd delight." 
 
 Ah ! beloved mother, my spirit melts as I feel assured that I 
 am not forgotten ; the dear child who has gone out from the shel 
 ter of the parental roof, who lives beyond the mighty waters ; for 
 her and her husband, are invoked the choicest of heaven's bless 
 ings ; strength, support, and comfort, for every hour of need. 
 Thus let me feel, your prayers ever ascend. Father, mother, sis 
 ters, farewell! 
 
 Crawford, May 2d, 183G. 
 "HONORED PARENTS, 
 
 " I am most happy to inform you that after a protracted, and 
 somewhat dangerous illness, my dear wife gave birth to a fine 
 boy, at half past six this morning. My heart is full of gratitude 
 for the mercy which has spared the life of my beloved Cora, and 
 given us so precious a treasure. 
 
 " Dutifully and affectionately your son, 
 
 "FRANK LENOX." 
 
 "P. S., May 6th, Mother and child are doing well. Corn 
 looks very smiling, as she lies gazing at her sleeping babe. Sho 
 says, tell them I am very, very happy." 
 
 Thursday, November 10th. 
 Beloved mother, how I long to exhibit to you and to all at home,
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 173 
 
 ay beautiful boy, my chubby, rosy Walter. He is everything a 
 aether's heart could desire, gifted with every faculty of body and 
 iiind, to make him a useful member of society. Yet when I 
 ealize that I have given birth to one whose soul can never die, I 
 ;lirink from the fearful responsibility. Yet I am not alone, 
 rhere is a fountain of wisdom and knowledge from which I am. 
 >ermitted freely to draw. 
 
 I am almost too happy. I have a dear husband whose steps 
 jccome more quick and elastic ; whose eye grows more bright 
 whenever he approaches his home, his wife, his sweet little 
 laughter Pauline, and his darling, frolicsome boy-baby, Walter 
 knows his father's step right well, and almost springs out of my 
 arms as he opens the door and advances to take him from me. 
 
 Nothing can be more tender than Pauline's fondness for her 
 little brother. Without a word, she yields her choicest toys, or 
 stands for him to pull her curls. This is master Lenox's richest 
 sport. It is sport, however, which I have forbidden. He must 
 learn, even thus early in life, to respect the rights of his yielding 
 sister, or he will tyrannize over her. I prophesy no small trouble 
 from this source, for not only is she willing to be deprived of 
 whatever she has in her hand, but if I say " No, Walter, that is 
 sister's," the affectionate child, in her rich musical voice, pleads, 
 
 Please, mamma, let Pauline give brother. Pauline don't want 
 
 now." 
 
 Mother, and sister, are very proud of the young Lenox, who, 
 
 they fondly imagine, will add much to the honor of their name. 
 
 indeed he is a true Lenox, and already asserts his authority over 
 
 every one of the family, most of whom yield obedience to him 
 
 l:ir too readily. 
 
 Friday, December 30th. 
 
 For a few days Pauline has not been well. I feel quite anxious ; 
 j-lic has heretofore enjoyed uniform health. She coughed very 
 hard last night. Her father thinks she has taken a cold which 
 
 15*
 
 174 CORA AND THE DOCTOR. 
 
 will soon pass away. I have allowed Ann to take most of the 
 care of Walter, so that I can devote myself to my little girl. 
 
 Walter has gained a great victory over Ann, of which he does 
 not fail to make the most. He now appears to realize that she 
 is completely finder his control, and insists upon having his own 
 way whenever with her. I wish she were more decided with him. 
 She would have far less trouble. When his wishes conflict with 
 mine, he yields at once. Instead of the loud crying, and throwing 
 his head back which so frightens his nurse, he looks in my face 
 to see if I am in earnest, and then pleasantly turns to something 
 else. I have been telling Frank, it is high time for him to assert 
 his authority ; but he begs off. He drives into the yard, springs 
 up the stairs to the nursery, catches up his boy and gives him a 
 ride upon his shoulder, or upon his back, gets him into a great 
 frolic, and then he is off. Sometimes it takes me half an hour to 
 restore quiet. Frank says his mother always managed him, and 
 he thinks such duties belong to the mother. 
 
 I told him, I really believed he dared not make the attempt 
 for fear he could not carry it out. He only laughed and went out 
 of the room, saying he would try his skill on Pauline. Dear child, 
 she loves her father so dearly that the thought of displeasing or 
 disobeying him, would never enter her heart. She is now quietly 
 sleeping, and I hope will awake refreshed. 

 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 " Kindness has resistless charms, 
 
 All things else but weakly move ; 
 Fiercest anger it disarms, 
 And clips the wings of flying love." ROCHESTER. 
 
 Saturday, December 31st. 
 
 DEAR MOTHER, I must not forget to tell you that I received 
 a call in the parlor yesterday from Mrs. Thomas Jones. She was 
 dressed so differently that at first I hardly knew her. Thomas 
 and his wife after a suitable time for examination and trial, made 
 a public profession of religion in our church; and have since 
 conducted themselves and their household in such a manner as to 
 give the strongest evidence of the sincerity of their profession. 
 
 Mrs. Jones called to see me with reference to William Reynolds, 
 for whom both she and her husband feel a lively interest ; and 
 iVom her I received these incidents. Mrs. Reynolds with her in 
 teresting children, was long ago removed to a decent tenement in 
 the village, where she has supported herself comfortably by her 
 tkill as a tailoress. During the past year she has seen nothing of 
 her husband, who wandered away when released from his con- 
 in lenient. 
 
 Now he has returned, pale and haggard, worn out in body and 
 mind. He loitered around the streets all one day, not daring to 
 n-k for his family. At length, Thomas met him and took him to 
 Lis own home. 
 
 " I could not but think," said the kind-hearted woman with tears 
 .starting to her eyes, "of the time when my husband used to 
 return from a drunken frolic, looking pretty near as forlorn as
 
 176 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 lie. But Thomas brushed him up, and we made him look as 
 smart as we could, though we could n't restore the ruddy cheeks. 
 or the bright eyes he used to have ; and then I jest stepped over 
 to Anna Reynolds's. She was a sitting so kind o' comfortable 
 hearing her little girl read a nice book, she got from Sabbath- 
 school, while Willie was whittling into a basket, that I could n't 
 help feeling kind o'guilty, to think how soon the errand, I 'd come 
 on might destroy all her peace. For you know, her husband had 
 been gone so long she 'd got settled like to have him away. But 
 I knew who was waiting at homo, and so I made bold to walk in. 
 
 " ' Good evening, Miss Reynolds,' I says. 
 
 "She looked up as pleasant as could be, and sajs she, 'good 
 evening, Miss Jones,' and then she got up and set me a chair by 
 the fire. I allus said she was a born lady, and so is her little 
 Anna. After all I did n't know how to bring in my message, and 
 I begun to wish I had n't come, for fear she 'd faint away or 
 something. She looked up from her work while I was trying to 
 think how I could begin, and says she, ' can't you stop and spend 
 the evening ? ' 
 
 "'Oh! no,' says I, 'I'm expected home. Miss Reynolds,' 
 says I, my heart beating so I was feared she 'd hear it, ' who do 
 you think 's over to our house ? ' 
 
 " ' I can't say indeed,' says she. Then she smiled and asked, 
 ' has Samuel returned ? ' 
 
 "'No' says I, 'but your husband has' and with that I burst 
 right out a crying, I could n't help it, I 'd tried to keep in so Ion .r. 
 Miss Reynolds turned jest as white as a sheet; and her work fell 
 out of her lap to the floor. ' Oh, dear ! ' says I, ' I did n't men a 
 to tell you of it so sudden.' 
 
 '"Is it true?' says she, whispering with her white lips; IK r 
 voice was clean gone. 
 
 "'Yes, 'tis true,' says I, ' Thomas brought him home when he. 
 came from work,' and then I was jest a going to tell her that lio
 
 OU, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 177 
 
 v as a sitting with one of Thomas's coats on a waiting to see her; 
 l;iit somehow I thought that would n't be just the thing. 
 
 " ' Is he himself ? ' she asked. 
 
 " ' He 's all right,' says I, meaning here,raising her hand to her 
 ] cad, ' but he is n't very well.' 
 
 " She started right up, and took her bonnet and shawl down from 
 ." nail, and said, ' come ' before I could hardly think what to do 
 j ext. She almost flew across the road and up the lane. I had 
 t ) run all the way to keep up. She stopped a minute in the 
 ( r.try to kind o' prepare herself, and then I opened the door ; and 
 them two sprang right into each other's arms. I declare, I acted 
 like a fool, and stood behind the door crying as hard as ever I 
 could, I was so astonished. She started and pushed him off a 
 Lttle to see if it was really her own husband, and then she hugged 
 Lim tighter 'n ever. 
 
 " 'Anna,' says William, when he could speak, wiping his eyes 
 with an old rag of an handkercher, ' can you forgive me all ?' 
 
 " ' Yes, all,' says she, * if you '11 only be my own William again,' 
 and then she took his hand to lead him home. ' You '11 hardly 
 know the children,' says she. 
 
 " He put on the old slouched thing, he called a hat, when he 
 suddenly bethought himself he 'd got on Thomas's best coat, almost 
 bran new; and with that he begun to pull it right off. Bu 
 Thomas would n't let him. ' Reynolds,' says he, ' if you '11 
 promise to be a good husband to her, as I know you will be, if 
 you '11 let rum alone, I '11 make you welcome to it.' 
 
 " William snatched hold of his hands as if he was going to cry, 
 find says he, ' I don't dare to promise, oh, how I wish I could !' 
 
 " ' Well, well,' says Thomas, ' I '11 sec you again,' for he thought 
 Y.va' n't just the time to say more. I could n't help feelin proud 
 o' my man, then, though I 'm 'fraid 'twas kind o' wicked.' " 
 
 Kind Mrs. Jones ! she was obliged to stop and find her pocket- 
 handkerchief. The tears were streaming down her honest face, 
 and I must confess, I wept with her. She resumed, " The next
 
 178 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 morning Anna came in and brought the coat all wrapped up in a 
 towel, and says she, ' I thank your kind husband, Miss Jones, buf 
 William will soon be able to earn himself a coat with my help.' 
 
 " I urged her to keep it, and told her we both made her wel 
 come to it, for I know what it is to Avant help and to have it too 
 But no, she would n't take it, and with that I asked her to wait 
 a minute, and I ran up garret where Thomas had a good warm 
 overcoat a little too small, and I 'd laid it by to make Samuel one 
 out of it. ' Here, Miss Reynolds,' says I, 'is a coat, 'tain't no 
 kind o' use to Thomas, 'cause it 's too small ; and I want the nail 
 desprit bad, where it hung, so I '11 be behoven to you, if you '11 
 give it house room.' 
 
 " ' Oh, Miss Jones,' says she, ( I can see through your kindness, 
 and I shall be very grateful for the coat,' and so she took it and 
 went home. Now Thomas and I have been putting our heads 
 together to get some work for Reynolds, so he wont have to go to 
 the distillery for it. And at last we concluded to ask the Doctor's 
 advice." 
 
 Monday, March Gt/i, 1837. 
 
 How little I thought when 1 wrote last that so long a time would 
 pass before I should write again. I should hardly prove a very 
 good correspondent, did not Frank fill up and make amends for 
 all my deficiences. 
 
 The sickness of Pauline, which, I think, I mentioned in my 
 last, and which probably reached you more than a month since, 
 proved to be the worst kind of measles. We were very much 
 alarmed for a time, as they did not come out ; and the poor child 
 was burning up with fever. 
 
 I kept Walter over at mother's for more than a fortnight, while 
 Emily remained here to assist me in the care of the little sufferer. 
 Even when her face was so much swollen as to close her eyes, 
 she was patient and gentle as a lamb. " Dear mamma," she would 
 say, " will God let me see my little brother again ? " Please ask 

 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 179 
 
 ( iod to make me well quick ; this do n't make Pauline's face feel 
 nice." 
 
 When she had repeatedly begged that Walter might be brought 
 1 > the bed where she could hear his voice, I explained to her that 
 ve feared, if he came, he would be sick too, and his eyes just 
 ] ke hers. After this, the patient sufferer with true self-denial, 
 eaid, "Mamma, won't you be sick too? I will try to lie 
 f-till if you can't come. I want to get well to see my brother, but 
 1 c must n't come here, because he will take the sick too," she 
 repeated to every one after this. 
 
 Frank began to grow seriously alarmed, as week after week passed 
 f. way, and she had nearly recovered from the effects of the measles, 
 t > find that her cough -still continued. He feared lest her lungs 
 i light be affected. From being a very plump, rosy child, she 
 lad become extremely pale and thin. Her eyes looked unnatur 
 ally large and thoughtful. Her complexion which in health is the 
 richest brunette, was almost sallow. I felt that she was growing 
 too mature. Her questions were so serious and showed so much 
 thought, that I would often catch her in my arms, and feel that I 
 could not give her up. I saw that Frank watched her very closely, 
 and administered to her with the tcnderest care. But I dared 
 not ask him what he thought. 
 
 ' Mamma," said Pauline one day, " will you please teach me a 
 lit tie hymn?" 
 
 " Why, my love ! " I asked, struck by the expression of her 
 countenance. 
 
 " I want more hymns to say in the night. I have said ' Mary 
 had a little lamb,' and < I knew a little cottage girl,' and all my 
 other hymns, and then I say ' Now I lay me ' a great many times 
 over, because that's so short, and I want to learn more." 
 
 'But, Pauline, why don't you shut your eyes, and go to 
 sleep?" 
 
 " I do shut my eyes, mamma ; but they won't stay shut, and 
 the moon looks so bright, I like to see it. Then I say, ' God
 
 180 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 made the sky that looks so blue.' Is there a hymn, mamma, 
 about the moon?" 
 
 I taught her "twinkle, twinkle little star," but with a sad 
 weight at my heart. That night I took Frank alone, and asked 
 him. if he knew Pauline lay awake at night repeating hymns. 
 
 He tried to turn away as he replied that he had often heard 
 her whispering to herself. 
 
 "Frank," said I, detaining him, "tell me, do you think her 
 dangerously ill ? " 
 
 " Oh, no, not now ! " 
 
 But I insisted upon knowing the Avorst, and seeing my fears 
 were fully aroused, he confessed that he had been anxious about 
 her cough. " I would give a good deal to know," said he, as if 
 speaking to himself, " whether her family were consumptive." 
 
 "Husband," said I, catching hold of his arm, " I had really 
 forgotten that the child was not my own ; " and then the word 
 consumptive struck like a fearful knell upon my heart. 
 
 " Cora," said the Doctor, " you take it too seriously. Pauline 
 has always appeared to have an excellent constitution ; I really 
 am not at all sure that this is not the remains of the measles, only 
 aggravated from other causes. I intend to take her out in the 
 open air, just as soon as these bleak winds have gone." On the 
 whole J felt relieved by this conversation. 
 
 Tuesday, March 7th. 
 
 Joseph Morgan has come to make the long promised visit. He 
 has become very much attached to his cousin Emily, and seem? 
 to feel that as he must have fun with somebody, it will be safe] 
 to take one who has no husband to call him to account. Sister, ] 
 will venture to say, has not laughed so much for a long, lorxj 
 time. He has evidently indulged no small curiosity to see Pau 
 line ; but though he will not of course say anything to wound my 
 feelings, yet it was plain enough to see, he thought much more of 
 a lively game at romps with Walter, than he did of trying to
 
 OK, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 181 
 
 <" raw out Pauline, timid and retiring, as she always appears before 
 ; trangers. 
 
 The little fellow will not allow his cousin one moment's peace 
 nhen in the house. He creeps across the floor in a twinkling, 
 dimbs up to Joseph's knee, and by expressive pulls and gestures, 
 . ignifies his wish that his cousin should instantly get down upon 
 ihe carpet for a play. If this goes on, I shall soon be obliged to 
 have new furniture. Chairs and lounges tumble over, and my 
 -\ork-basket has received a terrible wound in the side, through 
 vhieh I am constantly losing scissors, thimble, and cotton. 
 .Joseph expresses great sorrow, but in ten minutes does the same 
 again. I try to look grave, and call Ann to put the room in 
 order; but before I am aware, I am laughing until the tears roll 
 down my cheeks. 
 
 Monday, March 20th. 
 
 Pauline has become quite free with her cousin, and goes 
 directly to him when he calls her to sit on his knee. It is amus 
 ing to hear him talk with her. -While with every one else he will 
 have his joke, so that Caesar opens his mouth to its fullest extent 
 in anticipation, yet with Pauline he is grave and gentle, and 
 never makes fun of what she says. He told me once, when she 
 vas absent from the room, that he must mind his ps and qs, for 
 he heard her telling Phebe part of a foolish story, he had told 
 Emily in her hearing. Phebe laughed as if she did not believe 
 it, when Pauline said earnestly, " You must n't laugh, Phebe, my 
 cousin said so." 
 
 Phebe said, " Oh ! misse, he's only fooling." 
 
 Pauline didn't understand that, and turning around saw him. 
 " ] lere he is ! " she exclaimed triumphantly, will you please tell 
 Phebe, you did say that." 
 
 Joseph confessed he was decidedly confused. " She looked so 
 earnest and solemn with those large eyes of hers. I wouldn't 
 like her to catch me fibbing. I couldn't look her in the face for a 
 
 1G
 
 184 CORA AND THE DOCTOR ; 
 
 that he often puts on this kind of foolery, as he calls it, for a cover 
 to deeper feelings. I told him to-day that Pauline, (who always 
 frames her own petitions,) had prayed for him, and thanked God 
 for giving her such a nice cousin, and letting her take such beau 
 tiful rides. I told him I sometimes heard her whispering to her 
 self when she took a tiny chair, her father gave her, " thank you 
 God for my pretty chair." 
 
 Joseph looked very serious and said, "I should value her 
 prayers far more than those of many professing Christians I could 
 name. Why, coz," he added after a pause, " I never saw such a 
 little matter of fact thing in my life. If she goes on so, I proph 
 esy people around her will have to walk straight. I thought at 
 first that she was tame ; but she has plenty of spirit, only that she 
 keeps it under control. Yes," he added, warming with the sub 
 ject, " I have seen her eye flash, and her checks burn for an 
 instant, and then it would all be over, and she would speak in 
 the gentlest, sweetest voice imaginable. It sounds like Italian 
 music." 
 
 Friday, March 2<ith. 
 
 This morning after prayers, cousin came to the nursery door 
 and knocked. I was hearing Pauline repeat her letters, after 
 which I often tell her a Bible story. He sat down quietly until I 
 had finished. " Cousin Cora," said he, " I don't believe I shall 
 ever be good ; I've tried, and tried, since I have been here ; I 
 resolve every night I will be better, but I go on just the same." 
 
 I confess that for a moment, I did not know what reply to 
 make. Pauline had not left my side ; she opened wide her large 
 eyes, and looked first at me and then at her cousin. After a mo 
 ment, she walked across to the place where he sat and put her 
 hand in his. " Dear cousin, if you pray to God, he will tell you 
 how to be good, and mamma will pray for you." 
 
 The tears started to Joseph's eyes, as he kissed the little han;l 
 in his, and went quickly out of the room.
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 185 
 
 An hour or two afterward, two young gentlemen from the village 
 culled to invite him to join them in an excursion to the lake. I 
 \\ as much pleased with this attention to my cousin, and accepted 
 tlieir invitation in his name. But to my astonishment Joseph, 
 v hen sent for from the cottage, declined the courtesy with many 
 tl umks, upon the plea of a previous engagement. I looked at him 
 f< r an explanation, little thinking the promise of a ride he had 
 n ade Pauline, would be in his mind a sufficient excuse. 
 
 He read my look. " You know, Cora," he said, turning to 
 n .(!, "it would be awkward for me to be sued for a breach of 
 p i-omise." 
 
 The young gentlemen soon departed to join their party, and he 
 turned to leave the room. "I cannot bear to have you give up 
 so pleasant an excursion," said I, detaining him, " especially on 
 Pauline's account. I had just before you came in, told them you 
 would be delighted to accompany them." 
 
 " I should be far more delighted," he answered, " to give my 
 sweet little cousin pleasure, and I had promised her the ride." 
 Ko more was said at the time. Ccesar led the horse around to 
 the door, ready saddled and cushioned ; and the child was almost 
 in an ecstasy of delight. She had really begun to look like her 
 former self, and my hopes rose high for her permanent recovery. 
 She looked really brilliant as she stood equipped waiting for 
 Joseph ; her eyes danced with joy, and her whole face was radi 
 ant with happiness. 
 
 "Ami not well paid, coz ?" said the young man glancing at 
 the little figure before him. 
 
 ' You are very kind," I replied, " I shall not soon forget it." 
 
 A shade passed over his face, and he turned back as if about 
 to .^pcak, but checked himself, and taking Pauline in his arms, 
 pLiced her on the horse, then with a light bound sprang to her 
 side, and rode away. The weather is still mild and warm, and as 
 Ann was busy, I took Walter in his wagon, and drew him around 
 the garden, calling at grandmamma's. The young lad began to 
 
 1C* 

 
 186 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 be very sleepy, and I was about returning to the house, when 
 the equestrians returned. Joseph left Pauline inside the door, 
 and Caesar coming forward to lead the horse, he hastened to meet 
 me. 
 
 Quietly taking the handle of the carriage he said gravely, 
 " Cousin Cora, I fear you will despise me for what I am going to 
 say, but I can't help it. I sha'n't feel right until I've made a 
 clean breast of it." 
 
 As I looked inquiringly, but made no reply he went on, " 1 
 deceived you this morning by allowing you to suppose that I was 
 so careful to redeem my promise to Pauline, that I denied myself 
 the pleasure of an excursion upon the lake. Now, I suppose if 
 I had felt inclined to go, I should not have hesitated a moment on 
 that account. But to tell you the truth, I was heartily glad of an 
 excuse." 
 
 "But why? I should have supposed that you of all others 
 would have entered into such a frolic." 
 
 For a few moments he made no reply, and we reached the 
 door. He intimated that he would like to go the round again ; 
 and putting my arm in his, we walked silently on, as master Wal 
 ter was soundly sleeping. 
 
 " Cora," said he at length, for a few days I have been more 
 miserable than I can tell you. I want to begin life anew ; but I 
 don't know how. All connected with this dear family are use 
 fully and happily employed while I have only lived heretofore to 
 please myself. Though I resolve, and re-resolve, I am no better. 
 Even little Pauline has a principle and strength within her to 
 which I am a stranger. Can't you help me, Cora ? " 
 
 I had never seen Joseph so earnest, and I lifted up my heart 
 for wisdom to direct me, that I might speak a " word in season." 
 I then endeavored in my feeble, imperfect way, to direct my in 
 quiring cousin to the fountain of all strength. I told him while 
 he depended upon himself to keep the resolutions, he formed, lie 
 would necessarily fail. But aware as he expressed himself to be
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 187 
 
 oi his inability to help himself, if he would humbly and earnestly 
 bi seech God for Christ's sake to help him, God would certainly 
 ai :;wer his prayer. 
 
 u I have tried to pray," he replied, much agitated. " I have 
 always been taught to repeat prayers, but last night I could not 
 si :ep, and I got up and tried to pray, but I found no answer. 
 Nothing assured me that I was heard." 
 
 u Do not despair, dear cousin. Pray again. I wish you would 
 t: Ik with the Doctor. He would direct you so much better than 
 I can." This, I said, as I saw Frank approaching, having looked 
 ii vain through the house for us. 
 
 "As you please," he replied with a deep sigh, " but I fear it 
 will do no good." I left him with the carriage, and approaching 
 nry husband told him in a few words the substance of our con 
 versation, and requested him to invite Joseph to the library. I 
 then ran forward to call Ann to take Walter up to his crib. 
 
 Joseph looked very much embarrassed for a moment ; but I 
 knew the Doctor would deal very tenderly with him, and at the 
 same time that he would go to the root of the matter, and I 
 anticipated much good from the interview. 
 
 Frank came to my room but for a moment, before he rode 
 away. I saw that the time had not passed without strong emotion 
 on his part. I have as yet had no opportunity to ask him about 
 it. 
 
 Monday, March 27th. 
 
 Yesterday I was glad to notice the unusual solemnity of Joseph's 
 m ;mner at church. He is a dear, noble-hearted fellow, and I 
 cannot but hope the prayers of his pious parents in his behalf 
 will be answered. I must confess, I have sometimes thought they 
 were too indulgent in their training, and allowed him altogether 
 too much money. Considering how entirely he has been for many 
 years his own master, and how much he has been petted at home, 
 I tliink he is wonderfully free from faults, especially from that
 
 188 COKA AND THE DOCTOR. 
 
 selfishness, prodigality, and disregard of the wishes of others 
 which is too often the result of such training. 
 
 Tuesday, April kth. 
 
 Our dear cousin Joseph has this morning left us. I trust his 
 visit here will be of permanent use to him. He expressed 
 his determination to enter at once into some useful employment, 
 saying he had idled away quite too many years of his life. I was 
 struck with the difference between Pauline and Walter in express 
 ing their sorrow at his leaving. The latter screamed as loud as 
 his lungs would allow, and would hardly leave his cousin to come 
 to me. Pauline with a tearful eye, and flushed cheek, stood 
 quietly by until he kissed her farewell, when her lip quivered, 
 but she made no noisy demonstration of her sorrow. I saw that 
 this silent grief went straight to Joseph's heart. He turned back, 
 pressed her tightly in his arms for a moment, said something to 
 her in a low voice and was gone. 

 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 " The feeling of a parent never dies 
 
 But with our moral nature ; all in vain 
 The wretch by cold and cruel spurning tries 
 To change that love to hate." PERCIVAL. 
 
 Afternoon. 
 
 EMILY received to-day a hastily written note from Lucy Lee, 
 requesting her to call as soon as possible. I long to know what 
 has happened. The Doctor visits the old gentleman once in a 
 fe-,v weeks. Perhaps I have not told you that he has several times 
 met Allen there. I am afraid Joseph has come home, and found 
 out that he has renewed his visits. 
 
 Wednesday, April 5th. 
 
 I was entirely wrong in my fears about Lucy. She had received 
 a letter from a physician in the city who was called to Joseph, and 
 who says he is now so ill, that he deemed it advisable to notify 
 hi- family. Lucy inferred from the account, which was rather 
 guarded, that it was an attack of the delirium tremens, brought 
 on 1 iy his late excesses, hastened perhaps by the fact of his leav 
 ing home the last week extremely angry because his father refused 
 to advance him any more money. Joseph ascribed it to Lucy's 
 influence over the old man, and vowed revenge. 
 
 The forgiving sister no sooner heard of the dangerous illness 
 of her brother, than she wished to go to him. She could not en 
 dure the thought of his being left alone in his sickness. Emily 
 I encouraged her to go at once, and offered to remain with her 
 father, to which her friend gratefully acceded.
 
 182 CORA AND THE DOCTOK ; 
 
 month. By the way, coz, have you ever found out her parentage ? 
 She speaks when occasion requires, like a princess. You should 
 have heard her reprove Phebe for laughing." 
 
 ,1 hinted to Joseph that I disliked to hear any allusion to Pau- 
 lines's parentage. 
 
 " It is a great wonder," said he, " that I did not blab it right 
 out." 
 
 Tuesday, March 21st. 
 
 To-day has been mild and pleasant as summer. Joseph, who is 
 a skilful equestrian, rode up to the door, waiting for Caesar to 
 bring the riding whip. Pauline stood with her little face pressed 
 close to the window, at the imminent hazard of flattening her 
 nose. Joseph motioned to me to throw up the sash. I did so, 
 setting down the child from the chair. 
 
 " Let Pauline come," said lie. 
 
 I shook my head. 
 
 " It will do her good ; the day is delightful ; dress her warm, 
 and let her come. I'll bring her back safely." 
 
 I turned in doubt to the child, when she put her hand in mine, 
 while a bright flush passed over her face. " Please, mamma," 
 she said, " I should like to go with my cousin." 
 
 This decided me, and nodding assent from the window, I hast 
 ened to prepare her for the ride. Caesar took her in his arms 
 and gave her to Joseph ; but he was not yet ready. He asked 
 Caesar, if there were not somewhere about the premises, a soft 
 cushion suitable for a princess to ride upon. 
 
 Pauline gave him a quick look from under her long lashes. 
 
 " Well," said he, correcting himself " for a nice little girl." 
 He gently placed her before him, held her tightly with one arm, 
 and nodding adieu, they rode away. But Joseph forgot himself 
 again before he reached the gate, and shouted back, " You need 
 not expect us till night."
 
 OR, KEVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 183 
 
 " Oh ! please cousin don't stay so long, mamma would be very 
 anxious," and she looked distressed. 
 
 Joseph turned the horse at once, rode back to the door where 
 we still stood looking after them, and motioning me to come to the 
 st ,?p, said, " We shall probably be absent about half an hour." 
 
 I smiled. 
 
 ' Dear coz," he resumed, " I hope you'll have something warm 
 for me when I return. I fancy, I shall be black and blue inside here, 
 trying to conform my conversation to my companion's strict sense 
 oi propriety." 
 
 It was nearly an hour, however, before they returned, and Pau- 
 liae's eyes were so bright, her cheeks and lips so red that I gazed at 
 hor with admiration. When in answer to my question, whether she 
 hud enjoyed herself, she replied that she had had a beautiful time, 
 and that her cousin " talked to her so good." He said with a 
 bow, " I am more than repaid for all my efforts at self-control." 
 
 Thursday, March 23d. 
 
 Another beautiful day, and another ride for Pauline. Her 
 
 father is much encouraged already. She ate with more appetite 
 
 yesterday than since her sickness. We have elected Joseph 
 
 assistant physician to the Doctor, and he is to take the patients to 
 
 , ride when that is prescribed. 
 
 lie said, "I always knew that sometime or other, the right 
 kind of employment would come to me, if I only had patience to 
 wait for it. Now duty and inclination point the same way, my 
 course is clear." Instead of a sign, Joseph is to take Pauline up 
 on the horse, and ride back and forth through the town, when he 
 has no doubt applications will flow in upon him like a flood. 
 
 Though this dear cousin is to appearance such a harum-scarum 
 sort of a fellow, yet I feel assured he is not without his serious 
 moments, when he realizes that it is " not all of life to live." How 
 can it be otherwise, educated as he has been. From his birth, 
 daily prayer has been offered in his behalf. I am well convinced,
 
 184 CORA AND THE DOCTOR ; 
 
 that he often puts on this kind of foolery, as he calls it, for a cover 
 to deeper feelings. I told him to-day that Pauline, (who always 
 frames her own petitions,) had prayed for him, and thanked God 
 for giving her such a nice cousin, and letting her take such beau 
 tiful rides. I told him I sometimes heard her whispering to her 
 self when she took a tiny chair, her father gave her, " thank you 
 God for my pretty chair." 
 
 Joseph looked very serious and said, " I should value her 
 prayers far more than those of many professing Christians I could 
 name. Why, coz," he added after a pause, " I never saw such a 
 little matter of fact thing in my life. If she goes on so, I proph 
 esy people around her will have to walk straight. I thought at 
 first that she was tame ; but she has plenty of spirit, only that she 
 keeps it under control. Yes," he added, warming with the sub 
 ject, " I have seen her eye flash, and her checks burn for an 
 instant, and then it would all be over, and she would speak in 
 the gentlest, sweetest voice imaginable. It sounds like Italian 
 music." 
 
 Friday, March 
 
 This morning after prayers, cousin came to the nursery door 
 and knocked. I was hearing Pauline repeat her letters, after 
 which I often tell her a Bible story. He sat down quietly until I 
 had finished. " Cousin Cora," said he, " I don't believe I shall 
 ever be good ; I've tried, and tried, since I have been here ; E 
 resolve every night I will be better, but I go on just the same." 
 
 I confess that for a moment, I did not know what reply to 
 make. Pauline had not left my side ; she opened wide her large 
 eyes, and looked first at me and then at her cousin. After a mo 
 ment, she walked across to the place where he sat and put h r 
 hand in his. " Dear cousin, if you pray to God, he will tell you 
 how to be good, and mamma will pray for you." 
 
 The tears started to Joseph's eyes, as he kissed the little hand 
 in his, and went quickly out of the room.
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 185 
 
 An hour or two afterward, two young gentlemen from the village 
 called to invite him to join them in an excursion to the lake. I 
 was much pleased with this attention to my cousin, and accepted 
 tlieir invitation in his name. But to my astonishment Joseph, 
 w len sent for from the cottage, declined the courtesy with many 
 tlumks, upon the plea of a previous engagement. I looked at him 
 for an explanation, little thinking the promise of a ride he had 
 made Pauline, would be in his mind a sufficient excuse. 
 
 He read my look. u You know, Cora," he said, turning to 
 me, "it would be awkward for me to be sued for a breach of 
 promise." 
 
 The young gentlemen soon departed to join their party, and he 
 turned to leave the room. "I cannot bear to have you give up 
 so pleasant an excursion," said I, detaining him, " especially on 
 Pauline's account. I had just before you came in, told them you 
 would be delighted to accompany them." 
 
 " I should be far more delighted," he answered, " to give my 
 sweet little cousin pleasure, and I had promised her the ride." 
 No more was said at the time. Citisar led the horse ai'ound to 
 the door, ready saddled and cushioned ; and the child was almost 
 in an ecstasy of delight. She had really begun to look like her 
 former self, and my hopes rose high for her permanent recovery. 
 She looked really brilliant as she stood equipped waiting for 
 Joseph ; her eyes danced with joy, and her whole face was radi 
 ant with happiness. 
 
 " Am I not well paid, coz ? " said the young man glancing at 
 the little figure before him. 
 
 You are very kind," I replied, " I shall not soon forget it." 
 
 A shade passed over his face, and he turned back as if about 
 to speak, but checked himself, and taking Pauline in his arm?, 
 placed her on the horse, then with a light bound sprang to her 
 side and rode away. The weather is still mild and warm, and as 
 Ann was busy, I took Walter in his wagon, and drew him around 
 the garden, calling at grandmamma's. The young lad began to 
 
 16*
 
 186 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 be very sleepy, and I was about returning to the house, when 
 the equestrians returned. Joseph left Pauline inside the door, 
 and Caesar coming forward to lead the horse, he hastened to meet 
 me. 
 
 Quietly taking the handle of the carriage he said gravely, 
 " Cousin Cora, I fear you will despise me for what I am going to 
 say, but I can't help it. I sha'n't feel right until I've made a 
 clean breast of it." 
 
 As I looked inquiringly, but made no reply he went on, " 1 
 deceived you this morning by allowing you to suppose that I was 
 so careful to redeem my promise to Pauline, that I denied myself 
 the pleasure of an excursion upon the lake. Now, I suppose if 
 I had felt inclined to go, I should not have hesitated a moment on 
 that account. But to tell you the truth, I was heartily glad of an 
 excuse." 
 
 "But why? I should have supposed that you of all others 
 would have entered into such a frolic." 
 
 For a few moments he made no reply, and we reached the 
 door. He intimated that he would like to go the round again ; 
 and putting my arm in his, we walked silently on, as master Wal 
 ter was soundly sleeping. 
 
 " Cora," said he at length, " for a few days I have been more 
 miserable than I can tell you. I want to begin life anew ; but I 
 don't know how. All connected with this dear family are use 
 fully and happily employed while I have only lived heretofore to 
 please myself. Though I resolve, and re-resolve, I am no better. 
 Even little Pauline has a principle and strength within her to 
 which I am a stranger. Can't you help me, Cora ? " 
 
 I had never seen Joseph so earnest, and I lifted up my hear 
 for wisdom to direct me, that I might speak a " word in season.' 
 I then endeavored in my feeble, imperfect way, to direct my in 
 quiring cousin to the fountain of all strength. I told him while 
 he depended upon himself to keep the resolutions, he formed, ho 
 would necessarily fail. But aware as he expressed himself to bo 
 
 i
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 187 
 
 o!' Iris inability to help himself, if he would humbly and earnestly 
 b > seech God for Christ's sake to help him, God would certainly 
 a iswer his prayer. 
 
 " I have tried to pray," he replied, much agitated. " I have 
 a ways been taught to repeat prayers, but last night I could not 
 sleep, and I got up and tried to pray, but I found no answer. 
 I" othing assured me that I was heard." 
 
 " Do not despair, dear cousin. Pray again. I wish you would 
 tulk with the Doctor. He would direct you so much better than 
 I can." This, I said, as I saw Frank approaching, having looked 
 in vain through the house for us. 
 
 "As you please'," he replied with a deep sigh, " but I fear it 
 v, ill do no good." I left him with the carriage, and approaching 
 my husband told him in a few words the substance of our con 
 versation, and requested him to invite Joseph to the library. I 
 then ran forward to call Ann to take Walter up to his crib. 
 
 Joseph looked very much embarrassed for a moment ; but I 
 knew the Doctor would deal very tenderly with him, and at the 
 same time that he would go to the root of the matter, and I 
 anticipated much good from the interview. 
 
 Frank came to my room but for a moment, before he rode 
 away. I saw that the time had not passed without strong emotion 
 on his part. I have as yet had no opportunity to ask him about 
 it 
 
 Monday, March 27th. 
 
 Yesterday I was glad to notice the unusual solemnity of Joseph's 
 manner at church. He is a dear, noble-hearted fellow, and I 
 cannot but hope the prayers of his pious parents in his behalf 
 will be answered. I must confess, I have sometimes thought they 
 were too indulgent in their training, and allowed him altogether 
 too much money. Considering how entirely he has been for many 
 years his own master, and how much he has been petted at home, 
 I think he is wonderfully free from faults, especially from that
 
 188 CORA AND THE DOCTOR. 
 
 selfishness, prodigality, and disregard of the wishes of others 
 which is too often the result of such training. 
 
 Tuesday, April Atk, 
 
 Our dear cousin Joseph has this morning left us. I trust his 
 visit here will be of permanent use to him. He expressed 
 his determination to enter at once into some useful employment, 
 saying he had idled away quite too many years of his life. I was 
 struck with the difference between Pauline and Walter in express 
 ing their sorrow at his leaving. The latter screamed as loud as 
 his lungs would allow, and would hardly leave his cousin to come 
 to me. Pauline with a tearful eye, and flushed cheek, stood 
 quietly by until he kissed her farewell, when her lip quivered, 
 but she made no noisy demonstration of her sorrow. I saw that 
 this silent grief went straight to Joseph's heart. He turned back, 
 pressed her tightly in his arms for a moment, said something to 
 her in a low voice and was gone.
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 " The feeling of a parent never dies 
 
 But with our moral nature; all in vain 
 The wretch by cold and cruel spurning tries 
 To change that love to hate." PERCIVAL. 
 
 Afternoon. 
 
 EMILY received to-day a hastily written note from Lucy Lee, 
 requesting her to call as soon as possible. I long to know what 
 has happened. The Doctor visits the old gentleman once in a 
 few weeks. Perhaps I have not told you that he has several times 
 met Allen there. I am afraid Joseph has come home, and found 
 out that he has renewed his visits. 
 
 Wednesday, April 5th. 
 
 1 was entirely wrong in my fears about Lucy. She had received 
 a loiter from a physician in the city who was called to Joseph, and 
 wh'i says he is now so ill, that he deemed it advisable to notify 
 his family. Lucy inferred from the account, which was rather 
 guarded, that it was an attack of the delirium tremens, brought 
 on by his late excesses, hastened perhaps by the fact of his leav 
 ing home the last week extremely angry because his father refused 
 to advance him any more money. Joseph ascribed it to Lucy's 
 influence over the old man, and vowed revenge. 
 
 The forgiving sister no sooner heard of the dangerous illness 
 of her brother, than she wished to go to him. She could not en- 
 dun > the thought of his being left, alone in his sickness. Emily 
 encouraged her to go at once, and oifered to remain with her 
 father, to which her friend gratefully acceded.
 
 190 COKA AND THi; DOCTOR; 
 
 The Doctor whom they consulted, advised them to tell tho 
 Squire frankly where she was going, as if it resulted as they feared, 
 he must then be told. 
 
 During the long, long months of his confinement, Frank had 
 observed a gradual softening of the old gentleman's feelings, not 
 only toward his daughter, but upon religious subjects. He thinks 
 that the daily reading of the Scriptures by Lucy and also witness 
 ing in her every-day life the religion of Jesus so beautifully ex 
 emplified, has produced a good effect on the heart so long hard 
 and obdurate. Frank readily undertook to prepare his patient for 
 the temporary absence of his daughter, while Emily assisted her 
 in making arrangements for her immediate departure. 
 
 Nor was the Doctor disappointed. Squire Lee was indeed 
 shocked at the dangerous condition of his son and heir ; but he 
 instantly sent for Lucy, and desired her to consult her own feelings 
 and sense of duty relative to joining him. She took a most affec 
 tionate leave of her father, whose sorrow at parting with her 
 might seem uncalled for, were it not remembered that the dear 
 girl had been for a long time his sole companion, his nurse, 
 daughter, friend and comforter. Her couch occupies a room where 
 she is within the sound of his voice ; and it is not at all unusual 
 for her to arise at midnight to administer to him or to read a few 
 soothing words to allay the restlessness which is almost invariably 
 an accompaniment of a complaint like his. 
 
 Thursday, April 6th. 
 
 Mother will remain with me during Emily's absence. Paulino 
 continues to gain in health and strength. I was very much 
 affected last night at her tenderness of feeling. She wns kneel 
 ing by my side to say her prayers before retiring, when all at once 
 she stopped and began to sob. 
 
 " My dear little daughter, why do you cry ? " 
 
 " Dear Mamma,'' she replied, still sobbing, " my cousin told me 
 when he was going away, that I must pray every night, that God
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 191 
 
 would help him to become a good man; and when I was going to 
 as): God, I remembered that Joseph had gone, and it made me 
 en ." She looked very earnestly at me as she inquired, " Is n't 
 my cousin good, mamma?" 
 
 ' I hope he is, my love," I answered, as I thought of his parting 
 reruest to the dear child. 
 
 [ was making a few purchases in the village this morning, when 
 I i At some one slightly pulling my dress. I turned around and saw 
 th< sweet face of Anna Reynolds, lighted up with such a joyous 
 expression, that it sent a warm gush of feeling through my heart. 
 
 u Please, Mrs. Lenox, excuse me," said she in a low tone and 
 willi far more than all the grace of a lady of the court. " I saw 
 you here, and I desired to tell you how very happy we all are at 
 home. My father has come back ; " and she reached up to whis 
 per, u he never drinks rum now, and we all go to church together. 
 Mother says, who knows but Willie and I may live in Rose Cot 
 tage; yet ? You know that was once our home." 
 
 I requested "her to wait a moment while I paid for my purchases, 
 and then I took her hand and walked part of the way with her. 
 
 From her simple story, I learned in addition to what I already 
 knew, that through the kindness of Thomas Jones, her father had 
 procured steady employment for the summer with a farmer in the 
 neighborhood, where he was entirely free from temptation. I 
 warmly sympathized with Anna's delight at having a father. She 
 had never before known the happiness. 
 
 I came home and told Frank the good news of the happiness 
 of the Reynolds family. When I informed him that Thomas 
 Jones had procured him work away from temptation, and had 
 given him a whole suit of clothes so that he could go to meeting, 
 he was very busy reading ; but he looked up in a minute as if he 
 had heard all, and with a queer look, said he was glad I knew 
 how to rejoice with those that rejoiced, as well as to weep with 
 those that weep.
 
 192 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 , Saturday, April 8th. 
 
 Lucy Lee returned rather unexpectedly last evening. Her 
 brother Joseph did not know her; and the physician thought it 
 not safe for her to be there. To say the least, it was exceedingly 
 unpleasant to the dear girl. There were no women to be seen in 
 the establishment. It required the strength of two men 1o 
 manage him during his fits of frenzy. Lucy wept as she confessed 
 she could have submitted to every inconvenience to be with him, 
 were it not for his horribly profane and lewd conversation. He 
 seemed living over again midnight scenes of debauchery. "Oh! 
 Oh ! ! " exclaimed the poor weeping girl, " I never imagined any 
 thing half so awful." She only saw her brother twice, once on 
 the morning and again in the afternoon of the day of her arrival 
 She said, even the attendants who were used to such scenes, con 
 fessed that they had never witnessed one half so bad. 
 
 Emily came home early this morning, and has interested u 
 much in her account of Squire Lee. She says, it is hard for ho 
 to realize that he is the same man who so cruelly spurned hi 
 innocent, trembling daughter from his feet, so lovingly does h 
 now speak to her. 
 
 At the usual hour for him to hear reading, Emily brought ou 
 the Bible and began the story of Christ's sufferings and dentil 
 Chapter after chapter was called for and listened to with brcathlos 
 interest. When Emily closed the book, he looked around as i 
 missing something, and sister saw his eye rest on a book of prayer 
 She arose and brought it to him, not exactly understanding wlia 
 was expected. He shook his head. 
 
 "Would you like to hear a prayer?" He bowed his assent, 
 and turning to the prayer for the day of the week, and kneelinj 
 near him, she read aloud. 
 
 His right hand supported his headland when sister arose, the 
 tears Were trickling through his fingers and down upon his checks. 
 Several times, she heard him say, " poor Joseph, soul and body
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OP A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 193 
 
 lo t by rum God forgive me." Many similar expressions fell 
 fr >m his lips. 
 
 Allen came in every day during Lucy's absence, and Emily 
 tli jught that the old gentleman received pleasure from his visits. 
 B ? was a great assistance to her in changing the position of the 
 sufferer, whose left side is so paralyzed as to render it impossible 
 fo him to raise himself from the easy chair in which he sits. 
 
 One incident which occurred I must not omit. Squire Lee 
 m:ide a remark to which Emily naturally replied, " from what I 
 re nember of Mrs. Lee, Lucy very much resembles her mother." 
 This led to the mention of the portrait in the parlor. The old 
 gentleman sighed, for he remembered how touchingly his kneeling 
 daughter had appealed to it when he was last below. "I should 
 th uk," said Emily, " Lucy woyld have it hung there, where you 
 can see it from your chair," pointing to a vacant place on the wall. 
 After a moment's pause, he replied, " since it has been changed 
 to the new frame I have not thought it as natural." Joseph had 
 purchased and brought from the city some years since massive and 
 heavy frames, and the sweet face so subdued and tender looked 
 out of keeping with its surroundings. 
 
 After a few moments, Emily called the attendants to remain 
 with her patient, and hastening to Mrs. Burns, asked if the old 
 frames to the portraits were in existence. Together they ascended 
 to ilie garret, found the very article for which they were searching, 
 packed away with old rubbish. Almost trembling at her own 
 daring, she carried it below, removed the picture from its massive 
 frame with the ready assistance of the house-keeper, and soon had 
 it r< placed in its old case. The question now was how to get it 
 into the room. 
 
 Mrs. Burns said, "Lucy would never dare to propose the thing 
 to her father. She has been trodden upon so long, she has no 
 will of her own." Determined to carry out her plan, now that she 
 had gone so far, Emily arranged the cord and tassel so that she 
 could hang it up in an instant, and setting it down at the door of 
 
 17
 
 194 CORA AND THE DOCTOR. 
 
 the room, returned to her charge. She playfully suggested to 
 him the idea of a look from the window, and wheeled the chair 
 around for that purpose, when quickly catching the frame from it? 
 hiding place, she suspended it from the nail before the sick man 
 had noticed her absence from his side. She stood by him combing 
 his thin, gray locks until her heart began to beat more freely, and 
 then wheeling the chair back to its usual place, awaited with no 
 little trembling, the result of her project. She now magnified in 
 her own mind the oft repeated necessity for perfect quiet and free 
 dom from excitement. 
 
 She took a book, and sat down, when she saw her patient give 
 a start that almost threw him out of his chair, saying in a half 
 frightened, though joyful tone, " My wife ! my wife ! ! my own 
 dear Mary, do forgive me ! " 
 
 Emily hastened to reassure the old gentleman who did not 
 attempt to speak again for some minutes ; but when she playfully 
 told him of- the pleasant surprise, she intended, he confessed that 
 for a moment he thought his wife had appeared to him to upbraid 
 him for his cruel treatment of her daughter. But now nothing 
 could induce him to have her portrait removed.
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 **#**" Thy natal day, 
 
 Love bids it welcome, the love which hath smiled, 
 
 Kver around thce, my gentle child ! 
 
 Watching thy footsteps and guarding thy bed, 
 
 And pouring out joy on thy sunny head. 
 
 Roses may vanish, but this will stay, 
 
 Happy and bright is thy natal day." MRS. HEMAKS. 
 
 Tuesday, April \\ih. 
 
 WALTER has to-day taken his first exercise in walking alone. 
 He is very proud of his achievement, but no more so than his 
 little sister who stands at a short distance with outstretched arms 
 and utters the encouraging words, " Come, dear brother ; come 
 to sister ! " 
 
 He makes the attempt, but is so elated that he does not regard 
 the good old-fashioned precept, " Let him that thinketh he standeth, 
 take heed lest he fall," and straightway he lies prostrate on the 
 floor. But sister is not discouraged, and amidst shouts of delight 
 on his part, and sweet musical tones on hers, he is placed against 
 the wall and prepares for a new triumph. Pauline is not satisfied 
 that there should be so few present to witness the 'astonishing 
 feat. She runs to the library for her father. " Oh ! papa, come 
 quirk, and see what Walter can do ! " She soon assembled the 
 whole household. Papa looked on with the most complacent of 
 smiles, hardly knowing which to admire more, the new use to which 
 his first-born son was determined to put his understanding, or the
 
 196 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 unselfish triumph of his little daughter. Cresar, Phebe and Ann 
 loudly applauded the little fellow. This, as is often the case with 
 persons of riper years, only made him top-heavy and brought him 
 sooner down to his proper level. But nothing daunted, he started 
 again, rendered almost wild by the hearty cheers of those around 
 him. At last, mamma came to the rescue. The young hope of 
 the house must rest for a season, in anticipation of new trials and 
 new victories. 
 
 Evening. 
 
 Emily called to hear the last advices from Joseph Lee. The 
 latest intelligence was quite encouraging. The patient is much 
 more calm and sleeps well under the influence of powerful ano 
 dynes, and if nothing new occurs, bids fair to recover. If he were 
 the most affectionate of brothers, Lucy could not feel more grate 
 ful. She wrote to his physician to spare no expense for the 
 comfort of her brother, who would ere long, she hoped, be able to 
 return home. 
 
 Wednesday, April 
 This is the second anniversary of my wedding. How much 
 happiness has fallen to my lot ! My own Frank grows every day 
 more dear to me. How fervently he prayed this morning for me 
 and for himself, giving thanks to God for our happy union and 
 the various blessings with which divine mercy has crowned it, and 
 seeking for us still larger supplies of grace, that increased fidelity 
 to its duties may perpetuate and multiply our joys. May God 
 give me grace to prove myself a worthy help-meet ! I often fear 
 that I am too much engrossed with my earthly treasures. My 
 husband, children and friends occupy too much of my time and 
 thoughts, while I am liable to forget the Giver of these rich 
 mercies. Oh, that I may not in this way bring upon myself hi.s 
 chastening rod ! Oh, that all my earthly affections may be so 
 sanctified as to be acceptable to my Father in heaven !
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 197 
 
 Tuesday, May 2d. 
 
 This is my dear Walter's birth-day. Through how many 
 sc< nes liave I passed in one year ! This was indeed the hour of 
 na are's trial. But oh ! how richly is the agony of the mother 
 re; aid by her joy at the sound of the sweet voice so soon calling 
 he mamma! Next to home, the embodiment of all earthly joys, 
 thi ; is to me the sweetest word in all our language. From the 
 boitom of my heart I pity the Stoic who cannot comprehend the 
 ful and precious import of the word home. 
 
 Evening. 
 
 "We have had quite a little fete in honor of our young Lenox. 
 Phcbe exercised all her skill in the preparation of a birthday 
 calc, which was however intended for the guests, the children 
 beiug perfectly content with a piece of the frosting. 
 
 Pauline's tiny set of china was brought in requisition. This 
 was a present from her father on her own birth-day, which we 
 celebrate on the sixth of June, the day on which we received her 
 as :i precious boon from heaven. The dear girl, with Ann for an 
 assistant, arranged the table in the dining-room, and issued the 
 invitations in behalf of her brother; and when her feast was 
 ready went round from room to room to lead in her guests. 
 
 Kone of the household were omitted, though Ruth was obliged 
 to excuse herself as she had been previously invited to officiate as 
 bridemaid in the village. Papa and mamma were permitted to 
 occupy seats together on one side of the table, a privilege which 
 the gentleman acknowledged by a low bow. Grandmamma and 
 aunt Emily sat opposite. Master Lenox was in his high ehair at 
 the head of the table, with good Caesar and Phebe beside him. 
 Pauline took the seat which I usually occupied, with Ann by her 
 side. 
 
 Our sable friends had joined in the birth-day sports of Mass'r 
 Frank and Misse .Emily, and felt no embarrassment in sitting 
 with us on such an occasion, in honor of which Phebe had donned 
 
 17*
 
 198 CORA AND THE DOCTOR ; 
 
 a new turban of brilliant hues, and Caesar had given his face, 
 eyes, and teeth an extra shine. But Ann felt it necessary to 
 apologize for the liberty, and said " Miss Pauline would have 
 it so." 
 
 The Doctor replied pleasantly, "All's right, Ann, Pauline 
 knows what is proper." As for the child, her duties became 
 rather onerous. She flew around the table, moving one here and 
 another there, until at length her guests were arranged to her sat 
 isfaction. Then she resumed her own seat. 
 
 Thinking that he had waited quite long enough, "Walter, with a 
 quick motion jumped up in his chair, and helped himself to a 
 large piece of the sugared cake which stood before him. Pauline 
 was shocked, and said " Please, brother, don't do so, I was just 
 going to ask papa to say grace." But her papa was laughing so 
 much that he declined to officiate as chaplain, and advised her to 
 distribute her treat at once. 
 
 To tell the whole truth, the young gentleman, in honor of 
 whom the invitation was given, did not get to himself much credit 
 by his conduct on the occasion. He upset everything within 
 his reach, and was only appeased when his obliging friend at his 
 side allowed him the free use of his cui'ly head for a plaything, 
 when he soon had his little fingers so tangled in the wool as to 
 allow the rest of the company an opportunity to enjoy themselves 
 in peace. 
 
 If all the truth must be told, the grave Doctor, from whom we 
 should least have expected trouble, did not certainly distinguish 
 himself by sobriety. Indeed I was obliged to request his mother 
 to dismiss him from the table, unless he could control his risible?. 
 
 Never was matron more perplexed and annoyed by the con 
 duct of guests than was our hostess. Flushed with excitement. 
 her brow knit with anxiety lest some one should be overlooked, 
 she flew around, and then remembering that this was not mam 
 ma's manner, she returned to her seat and there tried to do tho 
 honors in the most approved style.
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 199 
 
 Friday, May 12th. 
 
 Lucy has received a letter from Joseph in reply to one from her, 
 urging him to come home. In it he manifests the most horrible 
 di -regard of his own state, just arising from what appeared to be 
 hi i death-bed, and also of the gradually" dying condition of his 
 fa her, and refuses ever to go beneath " the accursed roof while 
 tli 3 old man lives." The deeply afflicted sister is horrified be- 
 y< nd measure, but of course will conceal the letter from her 
 fai her. 
 
 Squire Lee has often asked, if Joseph is not coming home, and 
 fee Is grieved that his son left him in anger. He confessed to the 
 Doctor, a few days ago, that the sins of Joseph lay heavily upon 
 hi;- conscience, at the same time repeating a quotation from the 
 morning reading in which the woe was pronounced upon Eli and 
 his house " because his sons made themselves vile, and he re 
 strained them not." 
 
 Saturday, May 13th. 
 
 I called at Squire Lee's to-day, and happening to have Pauline 
 with me, I took her up into the old gentleman's room. He ap 
 peared extremely feeble, and after I had said a few words to him, 
 and was turning to take a seat, Lucy led Pauline toward the bed. 
 "With a look of horror upon his countenance, he screamed, " Who 
 is she ? Who is she ? I don't want her here. Oh, let her go 
 away ! " 
 
 The poor child began to cry, and I hastily led her from the 
 room, wondering why the sight of her should cause such unusual 
 agitation. Lucy sent a . servant to beg me to go into the parlor, 
 where she would soon meet me. I took Pauline in my lap, bat it 
 was tome time before I could succeed in soothing her. She said, 
 " the sick man makes dreadful faces at me." 
 
 Lucy said, her father wished her to apologize to me, and to 
 say, that the child resembled so strongly a lady he had known 
 when in Europe, that for a moment he thought her standing be-
 
 200 
 
 CORA AND THE DOCTOR. 
 
 fore him. " But when I fold him," she added, " it was your little 
 girl, he was relieved at once. I think," continued she, with slight 
 agitation, " father must have had some unpleasant associations, 
 connected with the lady, he mentioned, for he was laboring under 
 strong excitement, while the perspiration stood in drops upon his 
 brow." 
 
 On my return, I related to Frank what had happened ; he said 
 I had better avoid taking Pauline there again, since such excite 
 ments might prove fatal to his patient. I don't remember that the 
 old gentleman ever saw her before.
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 * * * * "'Tis with our souls 
 
 As with our eyes, that, after a long darkness, 
 
 Are dazzled at th' sudden approach of light; 
 
 When in th' midst of fears we are surpris'd 
 
 With unexpected happiness ; the first 
 
 Degrees of joy are mere astonishment." DUNHAM. 
 
 Saturday, May 20lh. 
 
 I HAVE been to-day with Emily and Pauline to make some 
 calls. On our return, we drove to the small tenement occupied 
 by the Reynolds family. We found the contented, happy wife 
 busy in the performance of her household duties. She said, she 
 wanted to sing for joy at the reformation of her husband. He 
 was well with the exception of a dreadful faintness at his stomach, 
 the consequence of leaving off the stimulus to which he has been 
 so long accustomed. She said, she had sometimes thought of 
 applying to the Doctor for a remedy; "but," she added with 
 emotion, " after all he has done for us, I do not wish to trouble 
 him/' 
 
 I answered, " he will take pleasure in rendering your husband 
 relief." 
 
 " Oh yes, indeed, we are all aware of that. William would not 
 have? 1 , had the employment which enables him to support his family, 
 had your husband not gone to Mr. Hunter and presented the case to 
 him. Then it would have been a long time before he could have 
 earned clothes suitable to go to church." 
 
 " Mr. Jones knows well how to sympathize with him in his 
 efforts to reform."
 
 202 COKA AND THE DOCTOR 
 
 " Yes," and a curious look passed over her face. " But htf 
 told William at last that he could not keep it from him any longer. 
 Thomas did indeed go with him to the tailor's, and order the gar 
 ments, but it was by direction of your good husband, who paid thf 
 bill." 
 
 " Oh ! Frank," said I to myself, " you 've begun to have secret:? 
 and to keep them from me." Yet I was quite delighted that my 
 husband's 
 
 " Charity ever 
 
 Finds in the act reward, and needs no trumpet 
 In the receiver." 
 
 As we were leaving, Mrs. Reynolds said, " I walked last evening 
 to our old home, and it made my heart ache to see how neglected 
 the place appeared. But my husband has a purpose, and if God 
 prospers us with health and strength, we shall accomplish it. This 
 is to purchase back the cottage. Do you think," she eagerly 
 asked, " the Squire would refuse to sell ? " 
 
 Emily fell into such a reverie that I could get no answer to my 
 numerous questions until we reached home. Then she directed 
 Caesar to drive her to Squire Lee's. 
 
 Monday, May 29/7*. 
 
 For a number of days some mysterious project has been going 
 forward. Emily spends half her time with Lucy Lee. The 
 Doctor is implicated in it, as I perceive from sundry whisperings 
 and signs, which are instantly hushed at my approach. Yesterday 
 I came upon them unawares, and heard distinctly mention made 
 of a lawyer, legal instruments, witnesses and the like. I can easily 
 imagine that Lucy is'to be married to Allen ; and that the Doctor 
 and a lawyer are advising the old gentleman about his will. How 
 astonished they will be at my shrewdness, when I tell them, I wa- 
 well aware of their secret all the time. 
 
 Tuesday, May SOtk. 
 How true it is that life is made up of sun and shade. I was never
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 203 
 
 more impressed with this idea than I have been to-day. A short 
 ti; le since I called, as I mentioned, upon Mrs. Reynolds, and 
 fo:ind her in comfort, with her husband restored to her and to his 
 family, and looking forward with joyous anticipation to the time 
 wlion they should be the proprietors of their once beautiful home. 
 
 Alas ! how soon these hopes wei - e dashed ! The poor woman 
 ca ne to me this morning, weeping bitterly. It has been their 
 cu >tom when the father returned from his work, and when the 
 lal>or of the day was completed, for all the now united and happy 
 fai lily to take a stroll for pleasure. Almost invariably their steps 
 ha/e been directed to the place rendered dear by pleasant asso 
 ciations. Last evening when they were approaching it, they were 
 greatly astonished to see that something unusual was going forward, 
 and hastening their steps, they found to their dismay that the 
 occupants had received notice to vacate the premises, as the place 
 was sold. Vain were all their endeavors to learn the name of the 
 purchaser. The tenants neither knew nor cared, for they were 
 perplexed at being obliged to leave their comfortable quarters, 
 though they acknowledged that one month's rent had been given 
 them by the purchaser, in consideration of their consenting to 
 leave at once. 
 
 I Lardly conscious of what she did, Mrs. Reynolds followed her 
 hu&band from room to room, rendered desolate by the removal of 
 the furniture while harder and harder grew the face of the bowed 
 man, until at length he sunk upon the steps of the door, and cried 
 i aloud. "I didn't know until then," she added, "how much he 
 had *et his heart upon having the old place. True it has been 
 our constant conversation whenever he has been at home ; and so 
 sure did he feel of going back, that he had promised each of the 
 children a flower-garden equal to any their mother ever had." 
 
 1 could not keep back my tears at witnessing the unrestrained 
 grief of the afflicted woman. " I could bear it myself," she con 
 tinued, sobbing, " but William has given up, and says, it is no use 
 ow, trying to be anything."
 
 204 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 Though I feared, it would be in vain, I did all I could to 
 encourage her and told her the Doctor would inquire about it, 
 and see if the purchaser could not be bought off. "At any 
 rate," I said, " William can put up a cottage like it. You must 
 not allow your husband to despond." She went away with 
 her heart somewhat lightened. When Frank came in, I related 
 her story to him, and was greatly encouraged by his hopeful view 
 of the subject. 
 
 He said, " I will see Reynolds immediately." I am often aston 
 ished that my dear husband with so large a practice finds time 
 to render so many acts of kindness to those around him. 
 
 Tuesday, June Q(h. 
 
 My dear mother, I have so much to tell you, I scarcely know 
 where to begin. Frank has hinted to me a number of times, that 
 he intended to celebrate Pauline's birth-day in good style, as the 
 poor girl had taken such a burden upon herself at the celebration 
 of her brother's birth-day. But when I inquired for farther par 
 ticulars, he always turned it off with a laugh. When I went this 
 morning to the kitchen, I found Phebe in her element, saying. 
 " Mass'r Frank gib orders for cake and pies, for twenty people, 
 and Ruth say ole missus is g'wine to make bread and boil meat." 
 
 What can all this mean ! I walked straight to the cottage to 
 learn what I could from mother. My rising wrath at being kept 
 so entirely in the dark was somewhat mollified by finding her as 
 ignorant as myself. She was, however, busy in preparing dishes 
 for a bountiful supper, according to the wish of Emily. My dear, 
 artless mother did not deceive me, when she pretended not to hear 
 as I eagerly asked, " have you no idea of the meaning of all this 
 secrecy ? " I said no more, but walked back, soliloquizing whether 
 it would be wiser for me to insist upon knowing without farther 
 delay, or to allow matters to approach the crisis. I had concluded 
 upon the latter course when I saw Frank drive into the yard. I 
 did not stop, however, for I intended to keep up my dignity, and
 
 OK, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 205 
 
 to appear perfectly indifferent. So I went to my room and gave 
 Pauline her lesson ; but Frank peeped in and beckoned me away. 
 
 I put on a very serious air and followed him. " Come now," 
 said he, kissing me, " you can't make me believe you are angry ; 
 I see,your mouth twitch ; I 've some good news for you." 
 
 In my curiosity, I threw away my reserve, and listened eagerly 
 to his story, which I must go back a little to render intelligible. 
 It appears that Emily's large heart was swelling with " a purpose " 
 when she so suddenly started for Squire Lee's, on our return from 
 visiting the humble abode of Mrs. Reynolds. Undefined, at first, 
 -lie confessed it was ; but a vague idea was flitting through her 
 nind, of persuading the owner to give back Rose Cottage to its 
 brmer occupants. Sometimes her hopes rose high, and then she 
 was tempted to abandon her project. The thought of expecting 
 " the hardened old man " (as the Squire had universally been 
 called until his sickness,) the thought of asking such a man to give 
 away what he valued at ten or twelve hundred dollars, merely to 
 encourage the reformation of his inferior who had been ruined in 
 his employment, s.eemed hopeless and absurd. But the image of 
 the patient sufferer, eagerly listening to her praises of his daugh 
 ter, gave her courage to proceed, and she tapped gently at the 
 door of his room, where she was sure to find Lucy. 
 
 After talking pleasantly with the old gentleman for a few 
 moments, Lucy in obedience to a motion from Emily, retired with 
 her to the inner apartment. There she made bold to divulge her 
 plans and wishes, to which there was no want of attention on 
 the part of the listener. She, however, made no reply until 
 Emily had finished, when she took her hand, saying, " Come and 
 tell father." 
 
 From this, even the courageous Emily shrank, saying " No, 
 
 i icy, you will do the business far better." 
 
 Uut Lucy only smiled, and pulled her forward, saying, " Tell 
 him just as you have told me. He won't be displeased." 
 
 So Emily sat down at his feet and told him all her heart. He 
 18
 
 206 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 listened with a pleased attention ; and when she described the 
 patient suffering of the gentle Anna, the beautiful children cursed 
 with a drunken father, his breast heaved with emotion. Emily 
 grew warm with her subject, and remembering that she was ask 
 ing more than he had ever done in his life, she burst out, " Dear 
 sir, if you should make this family happy, it would be so delightful 
 for you to reflect upon as you sit here day after day. You would 
 become so interested for them, and Lucy would so rejoice to hear 
 their generous praise of their kind benefactor." 
 
 He shook his head while a few tears silently coursed down his 
 furrowed cheek. " You forget that I made them miserable." 
 
 " "Well, then," she continued, " now you have an opportunity to 
 turn their grief into joy, and to render them very happy ; " and 
 looking at the portrait opposite, upon which the sun was shining, 
 " how happy she would have been to have you perform so generous 
 an act." 
 
 There appeared to be a dreadful conflict between his incrusted 
 covetousness and the benevolence which by the grace of God was 
 springing up in his soul. Lucy came and kneeled by Emily's 
 side holding her father's hand caressingly in hers. " Well, 
 daughter," said he affectionately, " Rose farm is yours, give it to 
 whom you please." 
 
 The young advocates were overjoyed at their success, and Lucy 
 kissed her father repeatedly, while Emily warmly pressed his 
 hand. In the peace and joy which filled his breast, Squire Lee 
 for the first time realized the truth of the inspired declaration, 
 " It is more blessed to give than to receive." 
 
 Lucy readily promised to keep the whole transaction a profound 
 secret until the proper moment should arrive for the denouement. 
 Emily also promised with the assistance of her brother to arrange 
 all the business. 
 
 Wednesday, June 1th. 
 I had not time last evening to finish Emily's story. Her fre-
 
 OK, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 207 
 
 cuent conversations with Frank were connected with the legal 
 t . ansfer of the estate. How wise I thought myself in having seen 
 ilirough their plot! 
 
 At length, all was concluded. The legal instruments were 
 ] repared and executed, conveying the property from the Squire 
 t > his daughter, and from her to Mrs. Reynolds and her children, 
 r ^serving the use thereof to Mr. Reynolds, provided he remained 
 t me to his pledge of entire abstinence from intoxicating drinks. 
 1 !ut in the event of his violating his pledge, the same was to revert 
 to his wife and children. 
 
 The family occupying the house, were the next morning notified 
 to leave, as Emily had determined to restore it to its original 
 beauty. The Doctor, however, insisted that I should have the 
 pleasure of giving the furniture, and he put money into her hand 
 for that purpose. 
 
 The important day had now arrived for the removal of William 
 and Anna Reynolds to their sweet home, while as yet they knew 
 nothing of the great happiness in store for them. It was for the 
 purpose of carrying me to invite them to Pauline's birth-day 
 party, that Frank had returned. He had left Emily and Lucy 
 busily engaged in setting up the furniture which Ciesar had yes 
 terday carried there. I rode with him to their humble abode, and 
 found Anna sitting at her sewing in rather a disconsolate mood, 
 on account of the continued grief of her husband, at the supposed 
 loss of the cottage. 
 
 l.ut she very gladly accepted Miss Pauline's invitation and 
 promised to keep her children from school and to be ready when 
 Ca-sar should call for them. Such a bustle of preparation as now 
 went forward, I have hardly seen. The good Cresar was con 
 stantly coming and going, laden with baskets of provisions, crockery 
 and other household utensils. As he passed the door, he stopped 
 the horse, and drawing himself up, said in a consequential tone, 
 C;esar knows Misse Emily no do Avidout dis chile on dis great
 
 208 CORA AND THE DOCTOR ; 
 
 'casion. Mass'r Lenox allus powerful good to sich kind. Dis 
 de gemman allus 'prove mass'r plans." 
 
 At length, the hour arrived, and Pauline was arranged in a 
 white dress with pink sash and bows to hei sleeves. I left her at 
 Rose Cottage with the assembled company, and as requested 
 returned with Cassar to bring the new proprietors to their abode. 
 
 They were all in readiness, William arrayed in his new suit, 
 and evidently striving to appear cheerful ; Mrs. Reynolds, Anna 
 and "Willie were neatly dressed for the occasion. When we were 
 seated in the carriage, I told Ctesar, I had an errand at the west 
 part of the town ; and if Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds would excuse 
 us, we Avould go there first. Coesar showed his white teeth so 
 much that I feared, they would suspect something. As we ap 
 proached our destination, I saw white dresses here and there 
 flitting by the windows, and a little head peeping from the attic 
 to watch for us. 
 
 William covered his face with his hands. He could not bear 
 to witness the improvements which he had already planned for 
 himself. Mrs. Reynolds held her husband's hand in silence, while 
 the children eagerly looked, expecting that we should drive past. 
 But when we stopped, and first Lucy, then Emily, followed by 
 mother, the Doctor and Pauline came to the door and bid them 
 welcome to Rose Cottage, it was too much. William sprang up 
 on his feet, and stood with a vacant look, first at one, and then at 
 another, and finally sank back on the cushion weeping aloud. 
 Mrs. Reynolds turned very red and pale by turns, while the 
 children shouted for joy, as they were helped from the carriage 
 into the newly painted hall. 
 
 It was not, however, till assisted by the Doctor (for his tremb 
 ling knees would scarce support him) that Mr. Reynolds could 
 speak. When he with his wife were seated in the neatly furnished 
 parlor, Lucy with moistened eyes presented him with a docu 
 ment, when he exclaimed, " I can't ! Oh ! 1 can't take it J "
 
 OK, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 209 
 
 Frank saw that he was laboring under some mistake, though 
 what it was he could hardly conceive, and fearing lest the joy 
 would be too much for him, he took the document from the donor, 
 and said kindly, " My good friends, this young lady is the owner 
 of the cottage, and she has invited us here to partake of a little 
 least in honor of Pauline's birth-day. As this was formerly your 
 home, we thought it would be pleasant for you to meet us here." 
 
 " Oh ! no ! NO ! ! I can't stay," cried the poor man sobbing 
 aloud, and wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his coat. 
 
 "But," persisted Frank, " I thought you were very anxious to 
 see the new owner, in order to ascertain whether you could at 
 some future time purchase it yourself." 
 
 " Yes, so I was, and so I am, but not here" He soon, however, 
 became more composed. 
 
 Mrs. Reynolds appeared to suffer almost as much as her hus 
 band ; but long sorrow had given her more control over her feel 
 ings. " William," she said in a low voice, " our friends who have 
 done so much for us invited us here to give us pleasure. Let us 
 try to enjoy it. They could not know," she continued with a sigh, 
 " how very sad we should feel." 
 
 I stood near them, and almost without a thought, asked, " How 
 can you bear to live here then when you have purchased it ? " 
 
 " Oh ! that would be very different," replied Anna. " But will 
 her father allow her to sell? " she inquired, looking most earnestly 
 at Lucy. William also aroused at this question, and with open 
 mouth awaited the reply. 
 
 I looked at Lucy with a smile, and she said, " it is with his 
 consent and permission that I now make over to you the right 
 and title to Rose Cottage. Henceforth it is yours." 
 
 For one instant, they both seemed stupefied ; and then as if 
 actuated by one heart, they sunk upon their knees. Amid tears 
 of joy, we all followed their example, when Frank in a most 
 appropriate prayer thanked God in their behalf and dedicated the 
 happy abode to " temperance) union and love" 
 
 18*
 
 210 CORA AND THE DOCTOB. 
 
 When we arose, our hearts were somewhat relieved. Mi 
 Reynolds pressed his wife to his heart, and thanked God for such 
 a treasure. When he became more composed, he said, " I am 
 well aware that it is the purity and goodness of my Anna which 
 have thus met their reward ; but I hope and believe, this gift will 
 stimulate me to imitate her example." 
 
 I cannot describe to you the astonishment as well as delight of 
 the now happy pair as they went from room to room, and beheld 
 the well filled closets, and every convenience for house-keeping. 
 They could not realize such a change in the Squire as that he 
 should voluntarily give up this property. When we sat at the 
 well furnished board, Emily, who presided, playfully asked Mrs. 
 Reynolds to excuse her for taking the head of the table. But 
 that lady could not reply except by a tearful smile. We hurried 
 through supper in order to leave the family alone and give 
 them an opportunity to recover from their excited feelings. As 
 we did so, Lucy put into Mrs. Reynolds's hand the document, 
 her husband had refused.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 " Habitual evils change not on a sudden, 
 But many days must pass, and many sorrows ; 
 Conscious remorse, and anguish must be felt, 
 To curb desire, to break the stubborn will, 
 And work a second nature in the soul, 
 Ere virtue can resume the place she lost." 
 
 ROWB. 
 
 Wednesday, August 23d. 
 
 THE Doctor received a hasty note from Lucy, requesting him 
 to call this morning at his earliest convenience. He did so, and 
 found his patient agitated and trembling, who immediately re 
 quested to be left alone with Frank. 
 
 " Dr. Lenox," said he, " I have sent for you to receive a con 
 fession from me, which I little thought would ever pass my lips." 
 He tried to wipe the moisture which was gathering on his face, 
 but his hand shook so much that he was unable. Frank took a 
 seat near him and performed that office, when he continued, " I 
 have been a great sinner, Doctor, as you well know ; but there is 
 one crime lying upon my conscience, which I would gladly give 
 all I am possessed of to be free from. Oh, dear ! " He gasped 
 convulsively. "You don't know, you have never felt the agony 
 of remorse ! " 
 
 Frank tried to soothe his patient, and pointed him to the 
 
 Saviour as one ready to bear all our sins. "I've tried to think 
 
 so Doctor ; sometimes the devil tempts me to believe that there 
 
 : can be no forgiveiless of sins like mine. In addition to all my
 
 212 COKA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 drunkenness and profanity, all my abuse of widows and orphans, 
 and all my grinding the face of the poor, I have been Oh ! 
 Oh, dear I I am a MURDERER. ! " 
 
 Frank started involuntarily. But Squire Lee cried aloud, 
 while the Doctor bathed his temples, and endeavored to quiet 
 him, but reluctantly allowed him to proceed. Making a great 
 effort to control himself, the distressed invalid proceeded to say, 
 that while abroad many years ago, he had met a lady who inter 
 ested him more than any one he had ever seen. Though his 
 wife was still living at home, he had fallen in love with her, and 
 had made the most disgraceful proposals to her, which she repel 
 led with scorn. " She told me," he exclaimed, " her husband was 
 in India, and that it was well for me that such were the case, for 
 he would revenge to the death such an insult to his wife. Her 
 indignation only added to her beauty ; and I was almost beside 
 myself that I could not accomplish my purpose. But I deter 
 mined to have my revenge. I wrote anonymously to her hus 
 band, at first only hinting at her unfaithfulness to him, but subse 
 quently stating the facts more fully. There was a gentleman 
 who spent much of his time in her society and in the education 
 of her child. It was this man to whom I referred in my letter to 
 her husband, though I had abundant reason to know that her 
 character was above suspicion. Sometime later, when my wicked 
 passion had had time to cool, I again passed through the place, 
 and to my horror learned that my letters had been the means of 
 recalling her husband from abroad, and of the death of of 
 both of them ! Yes, Colonel Shirley killed his friend, and his 
 wife died of a broken heart, leaving her husband to suppose her 
 the guilty woman whom I had falsely represented." 
 
 Squire Lee here groaned heavily and was overcome by his 
 emotions. " Doctor," said the agonized man when he revived, 
 " a word more ; you cannot realize what a relief this will be here," 
 laying his hand upon his breast. Frank bowed assent. The 
 sick man then earnestly begged the Doctor to take the name of
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 213 
 
 C olonel Shirley, and to use ^every means in his power to ascer- 
 t; .in whether that gentleman were living ; and if he should ever 
 S':e or hear of him, to communicate to him the fact of his wife's 
 innocence, and of the fiendish revenge which prompted the writer 
 o ' those letters. 
 
 Thursday, September 7th. 
 
 The Doctor was hastily summoned yesterday to Squire Lee, 
 \\ ho has had another shock of paralysis. But it proved to be 
 slight compared with the first. It was occasioned by his receipt 
 ol' a bank notice from the city of New York, of a note left there 
 for collection, and signed by his son Joseph as agent for his 
 father, and requesting the immediate payment thereof. The 
 bank notified the father instead of the son, who had falsely assum 
 ed to act as his agent, and who was reported to have left the 
 country. 
 
 At first the Squire was very angry, and said to Lucy, " I must 
 pay this note, but it is the last he shall ever have from my 
 estate." 
 
 Monday, October 2d. 
 
 I think Squire Lee supposes himself to be near his end. A 
 few weeks since, he requested his daughter to leave him alone 
 with Allen, when he asked the young man, "Do you still love 
 Lucy?" 
 
 ' I have never ceased to love her," was the reply. 
 
 ' Then," said the old gentleman, in a very affecting manner, " my 
 daughter is a good girl, and I should like to see her happily mar 
 ried before I die." He also added, "if you marry her, you will 
 not have a portionless bride." 
 
 Monday, October Sth. 
 
 E;nily has just consented to gatothe city to make some pur 
 chases for the intended bride, as Lucy cannot think of leaving her
 
 214 CORA AND THE DOCTOR ; 
 
 father, who is very feeble. He told her in the presence of Allen, 
 that he did not wish their marriage to be delayed. 
 
 The ardent lover persuaded Lucy to name an early day ; and 
 the nineteenth of this month is decided upon. It will be strictly 
 a private wedding. The service is to be performed in the cham 
 ber of the invalid, with only our family as witnesses. Lucy wish 
 ed Emily to be her bridemaid ; but as there was no one intimate 
 enough in the family with whom it would be pleasant for her to 
 stand, sister easily persuaded her to dispense with this part of the 
 ceremony. 
 
 Thursday, October 
 To-day I accompanied the Doctor and Emily to Squire Lee's. 
 He is exceedingly feeble, and Frank almost feared, lest the ex 
 citement of the occasion would be too much for him. But the 
 service was very short and informal. When we were seated, 
 Allen and Lucy came in from the adjoining room, a short prayer 
 was offered by the Rev. Mr. Munroe, the covenant of marriage 
 was administered and received, by which the parties pledged 
 themselves to a faithful performance of the duties of husband and 
 wife, as set forth in the holy scriptures, the benediction was pro 
 nounced, and our dear friend was Lucy Lee no longer, but Mrs. 
 Lucy Mansfield. In this new character, she stepped forward 
 quickly to her father and kissed his pale brow, while we silently 
 retired from the room, the Doctor alone remaining with the pa 
 tient. And he joined us in a few moments, leaving the sick man 
 far less fatigued than we had feared. 
 
 Frank says, he would give a great deal to know whether 
 Squire Lee has made provision for his daughter. After we all 
 left the room, Lucy sat on a cricket chafing his poor withered 
 hand. He looked at her with melting tenderness, as he said 
 to Frank, who had returned to him, " Doctor, she is a good 
 girl.""
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 215 
 
 Friday, October 20th. 
 
 The Doctor called yesterday to see whether his patient had 
 suffered from the excitement of the previous day. Lucy was 
 requested by her father to leave the room, when he asked Frank 
 to tell him plainly how long he should probably live. The Doc 
 tor replied that he might linger some weeks ; but it would not 
 surprise him, if he did not live many days, and he advised him 
 to set his house and his soul in order to meet the solemn event. 
 Squire Lee thanked him, and said, " I have much to do ; I must 
 delay no longer." 
 
 Encouraged by his calmness, Frank had a very interesting 
 conversation with him, and was rejoiced to find him in a humble, 
 penitent frame of mind, with a trembling hope of forgiveness 
 through the blood of Christ. 
 
 " He wept; lie trembled; cast his eyes around, 
 To find a worse than he; but none he found. 
 He felt his sins, and wonder'd, he should feel, 
 Grace made the wound, and grace alone could heal." 
 
 AVhen the Doctor called again to see his patient, Mrs. Burns 
 said that the Squire had sent the porter out for a man who was 
 then engaged with him, and that she believed them to be making 
 a will, as she had answered the bell, and had taken into the chamber 
 paper, pens and other apparatus for writing ; and when doing so 
 she had heard her master, in a feeble voice say something in which 
 she clearly distinguished the words " legal instrument." 
 
 The Doctor told her not to interrupt them, and assured her 
 that he would call again. Not long after, Jacob, the porter, came 
 in haste for him to go back, saying that he had been twice to the 
 oifice in the village to find him. 
 
 Frank met him on the road and instantly returned with him. 
 On the way, he was told a lawyer had been sent for who soon 
 went out and returned with two other men. After they all re-
 
 216 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 tired, Lucy hastened to the room, fearing the effect of this 
 unusual excitement upon her father. But as he lay perfectly 
 quiet, she supposed him to be sleeping. She sat by his side, 
 when perceiving that he remained for a long time in exactly the 
 same position, she became alarmed and began to chafe his temples 
 and hands. But as he still remained unconscious, she called Allen 
 and sent for the Doctor. When Frank entered the chamber, he 
 found him slightly revived, but unable to speak. lie will not 
 probably survive many hours. Lucy is very anxious for the 
 Doctor to remain through the night, and he sent me word that he 
 had consented to do so. 
 
 Tuesday, October 24th. 
 
 My dear husband did not return home until near noon, as he 
 has many patients whom he was obliged to visit after leaving 
 Squire Lee's. He remained by the bed of the dying man the 
 entire night. Poor old man ! It was really affecting to see how 
 hard he tried to speak. He is very anxious to make Lucy 
 comprehend something, but she cannot get the least clew to it. 
 The feeble invalid wept that they could not understand him. At 
 length, Frank put a pencil into his hand and held the paper before 
 him ; but in vain. He could not hold the pencil, and shook his 
 head in despair. 
 
 About eight o'clock this morning, the Doctor was called from 
 the room by Mrs. Burns, who said to him, " Mr. Colby, the lawyer, 
 is below ; and when informed that you were in the house, he re 
 quested to see you." 
 
 Before they entered the parlor, Mrs. Burns in a low but 
 agitated voice, said, " Dr. Lenox, do ask him if Mr. Lee was 
 making his will yesterday. I know, the dear old man meant to 
 do right by Lucy." 
 
 As Frank opened the door, Mr. Colby arose, and bowed, saying, 
 " I have been told by the house-keeper that Squire Lee is suffer-
 
 OB, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 217 
 
 ii 5 from another attack of paralysis ; and I wish the opinion of 
 1. 5 physician whether he is in a sound and disposing mind, and is 
 capable of finishing some business transactions." 
 The Doctor replied, " he is not." 
 
 " I hold in my hand," continued the lawyer, looking over a 
 document, a deed of gift of a small house and a piece of land. 
 Ii is in favor of a widow by the name of Churchill, whose prospects 
 huve been ruined by her husband while in Squire Lee's employ. 
 The language of the deed is a little singular for a man of his 
 cl aracter. It reads as follows : ' Deeply regretting in the sight of 
 God, before whom I am soon to appear, the various wrongs of 
 waich I have been guilty toward Otis Churchill and through him 
 to \vard his family, and in consideration of his long and valuable 
 set-vices the receipt of which I hereby acknowledge, I do give, 
 grant and convey unto his wife, Mrs. Hepsibah Churchill, her 
 heirs and assigns a certain lot of land with the house thereon, it 
 being the same which I took from her husband in execution of a 
 mortgage thereon, situated and bounded thus .' " 
 
 AVhile Frank was rejoiced that his dying patient had felt dis 
 posed to do something to restore the widow and orphan to the 
 happiness which had been destroyed by his influence, he could not 
 help sighing as he feared lest a suitable provision for his daughter 
 had been too long postponed, if not wholly neglected. Mr. Colby 
 was exceedingly interested and anxious to ascertain how long it 
 was after he took leave of him on the preceding day, when the 
 old gentleman was seized with this attack. He asked if it were 
 indeed true, as the house-keeper had informed him, that the old 
 gentleman had not spoken since he left. 
 
 Learning from the Doctor that the patient was now in a dying 
 condition, he departed, expressing great regret that the state of 
 the invalid should render it impossible for him to transact the 
 legal business contemplated. 
 
 Wednesday, October 25th. 
 
 Emily has just returned from Squire Lee's, where she has been 
 19
 
 218 CORA AND TIIE DOCTOR; 
 
 since yesterday. The servants are in dreadful excitement for 
 fear Joseph should be left in possession of all the property, since 
 it cannot be ascertained that a new will has been made. They 
 vehemently declare that they will leave the house when their 
 dear young mistress does. It appears very clear that the father 
 intended to make a new will from what he said to Allen, and also 
 from what Mrs. Burns heard him say to his daughter the morning 
 after the wedding, when she was preparing him to receive the 
 lawyer. Lucy was then smoothing his gray hair, and affection 
 ately kissed his pale cheek, when, holding her hand he said, " you 
 must try to forgive your poor old father for all his cruel treatment 
 of you. You can take pleasure in thinking that by your affec 
 tionate care, you have made my last years the happiest of my 
 life." Then after a short pause, during which Lucy could not 
 command her voice to speak, he continued, " I mean to give you 
 this estate and Allen shall " Here a fit of coughing interrupted 
 him, and he never after renewed the subject. 
 
 Emily says, " the dear girl is so affected at the thought of 
 losing her father, that she does not seem to realize that by his 
 death she is to be cut off from everything. Allen, however, is in 
 a prosperous business, and I do not doubt she will be happy. 
 
 Mr. Colby called again last evening ; but of course no business 
 could bo transacted. Allen asked him, if he had transacted busi 
 ness for the Squire heretofore, and thought him slightly em 
 barrassed as he replied that he had done so, but principally 
 through the son. Allen farther asked, if he knew where Joseph 
 was at present, and ascertained that he was on the eve of depar 
 ture for Europe. Mr. Colby farther stated that a document 
 had formerly been put into his hand which he supposed to be a 
 will. 
 
 Thursday, October 2Gth. 
 
 Lucy is very anxious to have her brother come home if possible 
 to see her father once more ; and Allen wrote a note to Mr. Colby
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 219 
 
 Pegging him to go to New York and detain Joseph from his 
 . oyage until after the funeral. 
 
 This morning Squire Lee revived from the dreadful stupor in 
 vhicli he has been lying for nearly twenty-four hours, and was 
 , ible to swallow a few tea-spoonfuls of wine and water. 
 
 He again tried to make them understand something. He 
 pointed with his hand to Lucy, then to the articles of furniture, 
 ilien back to her. The cold clammy sweat stood in drops upon 
 ils forehead from his violent attempts to articulate. 
 
 " Dear, dear father," said the weeping girl, unable to bear it 
 longer, " don't try to speak." 
 
 He pointed again. 
 
 " Do you wish me to understand that I am to have them ? " 
 
 His countenance brightened at once. 
 
 " Thank you, dear father, all will be right." 
 
 He fixed his eyes for a long time upon the lovely countenance 
 suspended from the wall, and then closed them. 
 
 Lucy asked in a low voice, " can you trust your Saviour ? He 
 lias promised to save you if you will but trust him." 
 
 The dying man slowly opened his eyes, a bright smile passed 
 over his features, and his spirit took its flight. That glorious 
 emile of triumph through the Beloved still lingers. No doubt 
 hid eternity will be spent in singing the abounding grace of God. 
 
 Friday, October 21th. 
 
 A dreadful accident happened in the village to-day. Mr. Stone, 
 a respectable mechanic, fell from the top of a house where he was 
 at work upon the chimney. The staging gave way, and he was 
 precipitated to the ground, a distance of over thirty feet. He 
 has no family, and has not long been a resident in the place ; 
 nevertheless there is great sympathy manifested at his sudden 
 dentil. The Doctor reached him about twenty minutes after he 
 fell, but found him dying ; and thinks that he knew nothing after 
 he struck the ground. He immediately wrote his parents to
 
 220 CORA AND THE DOCTOR 
 
 ascertain their wishes with regard to the body of their unfortunate 
 son. 
 
 How true it is that in the midst of life, we are in death ; one 
 moment in time ; the next in eternity. The family where Mr. 
 Stone boarded, and where Frank obtained the address of his 
 parents, describe him as a very moral, upright young man who 
 attended church regularly on the Sabbath, and who seldom left 
 the house after he came in from his work in the evening. His 
 landlady was very much affected when the Doctor carried her the 
 intelligence ; but said she thought him prepared to die.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 " This fond attachment to the well known place 
 Whence first we started into life's long race, 
 Maintains its hold with such unfailing sway, 
 We feel it even in age, and at our dying day." 
 
 COWPER. 
 
 > 
 
 Saturday, October 2Sth. 
 
 THE funeral services of Squire Lee are to take place on Mon 
 day afternoon. Joseph has not yet arrived. Allen is not at all 
 sure that he did not immediately leave the country as they heard, 
 for fear his father would refuse to pay the note he had forged 
 under the false signature of agent of the firm. But Lucy feels 
 sure he would not be willing to leave until their father died, and 
 the estate was settled. Poor girl ! she has wept until she can 
 weep no longer. She now begins to realize the trial of leaving 
 her dear home, and all the associations connected with her mother 
 and father. 
 
 Mr. Mansfield, Allen's father, has expressed his earnest desire 
 to have them leave the house directly after the funeral, and 
 make their home with him. But Lucy will not consent to leave 
 until Joseph arrives, or until she is forced to do so. Emily thinks 
 she secretly hopes that her brother will wish to share the estate 
 witli her, when he knows his father's dying wishes. Her husband 
 has no idea of this kind, and says he is only too happy in the pos 
 session of such a treasure as his Lucy. He is now in business 
 with his father ; and though not abie to live in the splendor she 
 
 19*
 
 222 CORA AND THE DOCTOR, 
 
 did before her father's sickness, yet he can give her every com 
 fort, and he is sure he can make her happy. 
 
 Monday, October 30th. 
 
 I was exceedingly disappointed in not being able to attend the 
 funeral, but I will give you Emily's account of the services. 
 Mother accompanied Frank and sister to the house of mourning. 
 Being the members of the family of the attending physician, they 
 were shown into the room with the relatives. This is the com 
 mon usage here. The adjoining rooms, hall, and stair way, were 
 filled to overflowing with neighbors and friends. Our pastor com 
 menced the solemn services of the occasion by reading a few 
 select, and very appropriate passages of Scripture. These were 
 followed by remarks, in which he alluded to the change in the 
 character of the deceased, and to his peaceful death. He stated, 
 that during the past year, he had enjoyed many conversations 
 with him upon the subject of personal religion. He had always 
 exhibited at such times, a humble, penitent spirit, and a deep 
 sense of gratitude to a long suffering God, who had not cut him 
 off in the midst of his sins ; but had allowed him space for repent 
 ance. He then closed with an appropriate and impressive prayer. 
 
 When he had concluded, an opportunity was afforded for all 
 who desired to take their last look at the marble countenance of 
 the departed. After this a long procession followed his remains 
 to the place of sepulchral rest. 
 
 During all this mournful scene, Joseph, who had arrived an 
 hour before the obsequies, exhibited the most astonishing indiffer 
 ence. Not a tear evinced sorrow at the loss of his only parent ; 
 though his affectionate sister was bitterly Aveeping at his side. 
 He sat a loathsome, bloated form, gazing abstractedly about the 
 room, or yawning as if already weary of this last poor respect to 
 the memory of his deceased father. 
 
 In compliance with the request of Allen and Lucy, the Doctor 
 and Emily returned to Lee Hall, to be present at the reading of
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN S WIFE. 2'23 
 
 1 lie will. As Joseph, the executor, had but just arrived, he was 
 i ot in possession of the document, and sent Jacob to Mr. Colby to 
 ! rocure it. He soon returned, and after Lucy had summoned 
 ..Irs. Burns to the room, Joseph proceeded to read it. This legal 
 ( ocument, you will remember, was dated on the very day Lucy 
 i tifused to marry "William Arnold, and had no doubt long been 
 ] eenly regretted by the testator. By this unrighteous instrument, 
 liis affectionate daughter was cut off from any portion of her 
 lather's estate, which was all bequeathed to his son Joseph 
 Lee, Jr. 
 
 This brought so vividly to the remembrance of the weeping 
 ( uughter the trials which had long been forgotten, or thought of 
 but as a troubled dream, that she could scarcely support herself. 
 Emily besought her to be comforted, reminding her of the words 
 cf a favorite poet, 
 
 
 " The darkest day, 
 Live till to-morrow, will have passed away." 
 
 The Doctor had long determined, if an opportunity presented 
 itself, to tell Joseph what he knew to be the wishes of his father ; 
 and to state his conviction that he had intended to provide for his 
 daughter in a later will. This he now did, and appealed to him 
 as a son and brother to perform the oft repeated wish of his father 
 toward his sister. He was proceeding to say that Mrs. Burns, who 
 had been present on some of these occasions, could corroborate 
 this testimony when he was interrupted by Joseph, who had waited 
 with ill-concealed impatience for him to finish. 
 
 " It 's of no use wasting words in this matter," said he, trying to 
 control his angry feelings, " If she whom you call my sister, had 
 acceded to the wishes of her father, (whom she now pretends to 
 mourn; in the choice of a husband, this will would never have 
 been executed. Jf she had remained single, I, as the executor, 
 and only heir, should have set it aside, and shared the property 
 equally with her. But as she has chosen her path, so she must
 
 224 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 walk in it ; as she has married a mean rascal," (for the first time 
 letting his eye rest upon Allen, and with the look of a fiend,) she 
 must take the consequences." 
 
 At the first mention of his wife in this insulting manner, Allen 
 had started to his feet ; but the Doctor put his hand gently upon 
 his arm, and he sank back into his seat. 
 
 Poor Lucy was spared the pain of hearing his insolent mention 
 of her husband ; she had fainted in Emily's arms. 
 
 All was now confusion. Mrs. Burns was flying for restoratives. 
 Emily and Allen chafing her cold hands, while the servants 
 alarmed at the noise were running in from every direction. Joseph 
 walked deliberately into another room, slamming the door after 
 him. The Doctor proposed taking the unconscious bride to her 
 own apartment. Emily indignantly refused, and said, " I will not 
 leave her in the house another moment." But neither her 
 husband nor her physician would consent to have her leave in 
 that condition. Beside the latter, determined to leave nothing 
 undone, meant secretly to make one more appeal to Joseph in his 
 sister's behalf. 
 
 After a few moments, the sufferer drew a long sigh, and becom 
 ing conscious, stared wildly about the room, and then burst into a 
 passionate fit of weeping. 
 
 The Doctor, who knew this scene ought not to be prolonged, 
 sat down by her side, and gently tried to soothe her. lie soon 
 drew from her the fact of her strong desire to carry with her the 
 portraits of her parents. 
 
 Emily began to urge her afflicted friend to hasten her departure. 
 In truth she says that she feared every moment a fresh outrage ; 
 and Lucy left the room feebly, as if the weight of years had fallen 
 upon her. She wished to go through the house and take a sor 
 rowful leave of the home of her childhood, arid more especially 
 of the apartment where she had spent two years in the society 
 and care of her father ; now hallowed by the remembrance of his 
 peaceful death. Mrs. Burns supported her on one side, and 
 
 -
 
 
 OR, KEVELATIONiJ OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 225 
 
 Lmily on the other, while sue thus took her sad farewell of places 
 mid objects so ctear to her heart. 
 
 It was not the thought of leaving the gorgeously furnished 
 \ arlors, where the brilliant-kued carpets gave back no echo of the 
 f < iot-step where were mirrors the height of the rooms chan- 
 cL'liers where the light was caught and reflected from innumerable 
 L mging crystals crimson velvet lounges and divans whose 
 o itstretched arms invited repose ; it was not the thought of 
 lc aving these which overpowered her. No ; it was the nursery 
 Oi' her childhood, the cradle of her infancy the closet, in 
 \\ hich kneeling by her gentle mother, she had first learned to 
 p;-ay the private sitting-room where her willing ears first drank 
 in vows of affection from her Allen the chamber in which both 
 father and mother had breathed out their souls to God. These 
 were the places and objects over which she yearned in agony of 
 spirit as she gazed her long farewell. 
 
 Then came her separation from the old servants who had many 
 of them remained for years solely out of affection for her. And 
 who, when her sorrow for herself was changed to care for her 
 stricken father, had shared her duties and attentions to him during 
 the long period of his sickness. She assured them she should 
 never forget their faithfulness or affection. Mrs. Bums, who had 
 long been regarded as a friend and companion, was to accompany 
 her, and for the present to remain in the house of her father-in- 
 law. The rest crowded around her and wept aloud. 
 
 In the mean time the Doctor had taken advantage of their 
 absence to venture into the presence of Joseph ; when he asked 
 him if it was indeed his intention to drive his only sister from her 
 home. 
 
 The unnatural brother coldly replied, " she must leave, and the 
 sooner the better for all concerned." 
 
 Frank then begged for her the portraits of her parents. 
 
 No, not an article shall she " but seeing an awful look of
 
 226 CORA AND THE DOCTOR ; 
 
 indignation on the Doctor's face he checked himself, and said, 
 "well, I won't object to that; they're no use to me. You may 
 tell her she may take them, and stay," he added as Frank was 
 leaving the room, " tell her that she may send a servant for 
 all her gewgaws and finery; I shall want them out of the 
 way." 
 
 His indignant hearer deigned not a word of reply, but left the 
 room, and told Allen to take the portraits, which with a few articles 
 for immediate use were put into the carriage, and with grateful, 
 though sad adieus to their sympathizing friends they drove away. 
 
 Emily would not remain a moment longer. " Get me away ! 
 I can't breathe here ! " she exclaimed to her brother, as they 
 were waiting for the carriage. 
 
 Tuesday, October 31st. 
 
 Mrs. Burns returned to-day to Lee Hall, and found it indeed 
 desolate. Not a servant remained but the porter ; and he had 
 only been detained for a few days, by a promise of great wages. 
 While Mrs. Burns was packing, he came stealthily to her room, 
 and told her what had taken place after she left. Shutting him 
 self in his own apartment to avoid the disagreeable scenes around 
 him, the new owner of this princely mansion hastened out when 
 all was quiet to order brandy and cigars to be brought in with 
 supper. He rang the bell. There was no response. He rang 
 again. He then walked angrily to the kitchen, but all was deserted. 
 He stamped and swore until the maid servants clung together in 
 their affright, and only wished themselves safely out of the house. 
 Each one of them would far sooner have given up the wages due 
 them, than to have ventured into the presence of this monster in 
 human form. 
 
 At length he was heard coming up stairs, and Jacob came out 
 of his room dressed to leave ; when really pitying his frightened 
 companions, he determined to turn Joseph's anger against him-
 
 OK, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 227 
 
 : elf. After hearing the most abusive language unmoved, Jacob 
 old his master, he would follow him to the parlor, and there 
 eceive his directions. 
 
 Joseph appeared to remember that he was compromising his 
 -lignity by condescending to follow a servant to his room, and 
 he went below. 
 
 "With a whispered word to his companions to leave their effects 
 'vith him, and depart, the kind hearted Jacob waited upon his 
 ,naster, though he will not call him such; and there was persuad 
 ed to remain a short time as mentioned above. 
 
 Mrs. Burns told the good man that she would see that every 
 rent of their wages was paid to them, and then with his assist 
 ance loaded the wagon with the trunks, and took her leave of the 
 place where she had passed nearly twenty years. 
 
 Saturday, November 18th. 
 
 We have heard nothing from the proprietor of Lee Hall, ex 
 cept the fact from Jacob, that Mr. Colby has completely domesti 
 cated himself in the family ; and the new servants brought from 
 the city, have all given notice of their intention to leave. Two 
 of the girls ^vere indignant at their employer on account of his 
 insulting familiarity. 
 
 Jacob says the house is seldom quiet until long after midnight ; 
 and that alarmed by the uproarious noise in the parlors, he has 
 sometimes ventured below and heard violent altercations between 
 Joseph and the lawyer. But the next morning, when they had 
 slept off the effects of their wine, they appeared as friendly as 
 ever. 
 
 Sister Emily went with Allen and Lucy to-day to look at a pretty 
 cottage, with a view to house-keeping. The distance from Allen's 
 business was the only objection, as they do not intend to keep a 
 carriage. The bride has not yet recovered from the effects of 
 the excitement and sorrow through which she has passed. We all
 
 228 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 think the novelty of furnishing her house will occupy her attention 
 and be of use to her. 
 
 Thursday, November 23d. 
 
 After breakfast this morning Frank showed me the following 
 notice in the Crawford Advertiser. 
 
 "PROBATE COURT NOTICE." 
 
 "At a court of Probate held in the town of Crawford, county of 
 
 , and commonwealth of Massachusetts, November 22d, 1837, 
 
 whereas there and then appeared Joseph Lee, gentleman, to set 
 up what he claimed to be the last will and testament of one 
 Joseph Lee, deceased, and whereas objections were filed with this 
 court by his brother-in-law, Allen Mansfield, against this instru 
 ment from a belief that it was not the last will and testament of 
 the testator, therefore notice is hereby given to all parties and 
 persons interested to appear before me at 10 o'clock, A. M., 
 Thursday, the 30th of this month, and show cause if any there be, 
 why said will should not be set up and executed. 
 
 , Judge of Prolate. 
 
 November 22d." 
 
 Monday, November 27th. 
 
 The Doctor was notified to-day to appear before the Probate 
 Court as a witness for Allen Mansfield against Joseph Lee. His 
 sympathies are of course with Lucy and Allen, and he will testify 
 to what he is sure were the intentions of the father. But he feels 
 quite confident that there is no legal testimony in the case, suffi 
 cient to prove that he ever did make a will according to his 
 intentions. It appears extremely improbable that if such a 
 document had been in existence previous to the marriage of his 
 daughter, that he should not have mentioned the fact to Allen. 
 But he only said, " You will not have a portionless bride." That 
 such a document did not then exist is almost certain from the fact
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN S WIFE. 
 
 229 
 
 it could not have been made without the knowledge of some one 
 in the house, since though the old gentleman was perhaps capable 
 oi drawing up a legal document, and had the perfect use of his 
 ri ;ht hand, yet such document being drawn up, would not be 
 admitted in court without witnesses. 
 
 Then if executed the day after the marriage took place as 
 w; .s at first hoped, where is it ? What motive could there be for 
 co icealing it? and for allowing one of former date to be presented 
 an 1 set up ? 
 
 Friday, December 1st. 
 
 Yesterday the Doctor attended the Probate Court. Mr. "Willard 
 appeared for Allen Mansfield. After the will had been read, 
 and proved by the witnesses, to be both genuine and authentic, 
 Mi'. Willard asked leave to call for the witnesses to the deed of 
 gift: to widow Churchill ; and endeavored in vain to prove by 
 them that a subsequent will had been made. 
 
 One of the witnesses to the latter instrument was not living, 
 being the young man who was so suddenly killed. The other 
 testified that no farther business, except signing the deed was 
 tra^acted in his presence. 
 
 Lawyer Colby corroborated this testimony, while Joseph Lee 
 after being sworn, testified that although Mr. Willard's statements 
 mig'it be true -as to his father's intention to make a second will, 
 he had yet to learn that such a will had actually been made. 
 
 For want of proof of the existence of a second will, the one 
 then before the court was set up and Joseph Lee duly appointed 
 executor upon his deceased father's estate.
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 " How may the mother's heart 
 Dwell on her son, and dare to hope again ? 
 The Spring's rich promise hath been given in vain, 
 
 The lovely must depart ! 
 Is he not gone, our brightest and our best ? 
 Come near ! and bear the early-called to rest ! - 
 
 " Ye weep, and it is well! 
 For tears befit earth's partings ! Yesterday 
 Song was upon the lips of this pale clay, 
 
 And sunshine seemed to dwell 
 Where'er he moved the welcome and the blessed! 
 Now gaze and bear the silent unto rest! " MRS, HKMANS. 
 
 Friday, March IGth, 1838. 
 
 Mr dearly loved mother, With a heart borne down with 
 sorrow, I take my pen to communicate the sad intelligence which 
 even as I write my heart refuses to believe. My sweet little 
 Walter, my first-born son ; your only grandchild, is, alas ! no 
 more on earth ! 
 
 Evening. 
 
 I could go no farther this morning ; the dreadful reality over 
 whelmed me ; and I could only weep afresh. My dear, doubly 
 dear husband came and wept with me. Then he took that 
 precious book which contains so many words of comfort to poor 
 broken hearts, and read passage after passage. We knelt 
 together, and told Jesus all our sorrow and grief at the loss of our 
 darling ; that our hearts were like to burst that we should see
 
 REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 231 
 
 hi- face no more, no more hear his merry laugh, or his shout 
 of delight. And Jesus, our elder brother, seemed to stand by us, 
 an 1 weep with us as he did with Mary and Martha of olden 
 time. But at length he pointed to the beautiful azure sky above, 
 w] ile his tender notes fell like low sweet music upon our ears, 
 hu -hing into peace the waves of sorrow which were roaring and 
 da ihing over us. " Beyond those bright aerial regions is the 
 throne of the eternal. Before him are a multitude whom no man 
 cau number, of little ones who were early transplanted from this 
 cold and sinful earth to the pure air of heaven. "While sinful 
 na .ions in affright hide their faces from the searching glance of 
 him who sitteth upon the throne, yet upon these little ones he 
 lift s the light of his countenance, and bestows his constant smiles. 
 Your child washed in my blood, purified and sanctified by my 
 spirit, is among them swelling with his infant voice the choir who 
 aro ever singing, ' worthythe lamb that was slain for our sins.'" 
 
 Those gracious words from our sympathizing Saviour, soothed 
 our grief, and were balm to our wounded hearts. When we arose 
 from our knees, we felt a new attraction to our home beyond the 
 skies. We were the parents of an angel. 
 
 Saturday, March 17th. 
 
 I feel a painful pleasure in thinking over every circumstance 
 connected with the sickness and death of my sweet child. While 
 I write, my little Pauline, who has wept herself sick at the loss 
 of her dear brother, is sitting on a cricket at my feet with her 
 hea<l resting in my lap. She is trying to restrain the sobs which 
 ever and anon burst out afresh, from her tender, affectionate 
 heart. 
 
 '- Mamma," says the trembling voice, " will you please tell me 
 more, about that happy place where my brother has gone ? Is he 
 playing on his harp now?" I have quieted her by the promise 
 that when I have written a letter to her grandmamma in England, 
 I will read it to her.
 
 232 CORA AXD THE DOCTOR; 
 
 On Thursday, the eighth of this month, our beautiful boy ap 
 peared perfectly well. The weather, which had been very windy 
 and bleak, was unusually rnild, and the children could hardly 
 contain their joy at being able to be out of doors. Walter was 
 warmly clad and placed in his wagon, while Pauline was only too 
 happy in helping Ann to draw him round the garden. About 
 ten o'clock the sun was so warm that the Avalks became damp 
 from the melting of the frost, and I called them in. Walter was 
 put into his crib for his nap, which was undisturbed. When he 
 awoke I gazed at him with pride. His eyes were perfectly bril 
 liant with beauty, his lips were red as coral and his cheeks rivalled 
 the blush of the rose. As I held him in my arms and pushed 
 back the curls from his broad, noble brow, so like his father's, my 
 heart said, " what a beautiful boy, and he is my own." I was 
 astonished to find him so ready to sit quietly in my lap while 
 Pauline, by every art of which she was capable, was trying to 
 decoy him away. He laughed aloud at her antics as she danced 
 about the room, hiding behind the door, and then with a merry 
 shout bursting out upon him ; but when she said " brother, hide 
 now," he would Jay his head on my breast, and lisp, " tay with 
 mamma." He sat thus nearly an houi*, which was so unusual 
 that I began to feel a little alarm. Frank laughed at me for 
 indulging such a feeling, merely because he was quiet ; and cer 
 tainly one could hardly realize danger as they looked upon his 
 face, which was the very picture of health and beauty. 
 
 After dinner Ann brought him to me in her arms, saying " he 
 wants to lie quiet, and will not eat his bread and milk." Frank 
 then felt his pulse, and said it was too quick. He gave me a 
 powder for- Walter to take if he was no better ; but in the course 
 of the afternoon, he slid from my lap, and played an hour or two 
 with his sister. He was not as boisterous as usual, and seemed 
 disposed to yield in everything to Pauline's wishes. 
 
 When I was putting him into bed she said several times, " Is n't 
 brother a nice boy, mamma ? "
 
 OK, REVELATIONS OP A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 233 
 
 When my husband came home, he went directly to the crib, 
 and found him in a gentle perspiration, but still with a feverish 
 mlse. I told him I had bathed his feet in warm water, which he 
 approved, but thought it best to give the powder. When I retired 
 lie appeared no worse, and feeling more easy about him, I soon 
 ijll asleep. 
 
 I was awakened by a loud, shrill noise from the crib, such as I 
 Lad never before heard. With one bound I was at his side, 
 f-creaming " Frank, Oh, Frank! what can that noise be ? " 
 
 Alas, no Frank answered ! He had been called away. Whether 
 ] had forgotten it or never knew it until that moment I cannot 
 tall. But another sound came, more horrible than the first. I 
 run to Ann's room and told her to ring for Caesar and Phebe. 
 Then I flew back to my boy, my darling boy. He seemed to be 
 suffocated. I caught him in my arms, and tossed him to catch his 
 treath. Oh ! how frightened he looked. Soon Ann and all came 
 rushing into the room. 
 
 " Oh, Caesar ! " I cried, " where is your master ? " 
 
 Without another word he went in search of him. Ann ran 
 for mother and sister, while Phebe hurried to the kitchen, and 
 brought some oliv-e oil which she succeeded in pouring down his 
 throat. 
 
 " Don't be scare missus, it 's de croup. Mass'r Frank cures 
 heaps o' chilen sick wid it. Ole Phebe knows God not send for 
 dis chile yet." 
 
 I wrung my hands. Before Caesar could have had time to 
 harness I began to expect him back. , 
 
 Mother soon came in and took my boy from me, telling me to 
 dress. 1 forgot that I had only thrown on a wrapper. Mother 
 was so calm I began to hope it was not so bad as I feared. She 
 had already sent Phebe for hot water ; telling Emily to go to the 
 medicine chest, and procure a bottle of antimonial wine. This 
 she gave at once, and with his little feet and limbs in very warm 
 water, while he was wrapped in blankets, he appeared better. 
 
 20*
 
 234 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 But he looked at me with such an imploring expression as he 
 said " mamma," that the tone stirred the deepest fountains of my 
 heart. 
 
 " Oh, my darling ! " I cried, " mamma would help you if she 
 could ! " Oh, how the little breast heaved ; and he grew worse 
 again, every minute he grew worse. Mother said not a word, 
 but kept administering to him. 
 
 " Where can Caesar be ? " she said at length, and I knew from 
 her looks she feared the worst. 
 
 Then I heard a horse come dashing up to the door, and Frank 
 almost flew into the room. 
 
 "Thank God!" was all that mother could say. The poor 
 father knelt before his boy. His mother told him in a word what 
 she had done. Oh ! the look of indescribable agony that passed 
 over his face as he found he was too late ! 
 
 Our boy was dying ! 
 
 Frank would not give up even then, but said "while there is 
 life there is hope." But the breast heaved more feebly the 
 shrill sound gradually ceas,ed until lying in the arms of his 
 grandmother, with his father and mother kneeling before him 
 his precious hand encircling my finger, he gave one last, linger 
 ing look at each of the group standing around him, and without 
 a struggle or a sigh only a slight shudder, he fell sweetly 
 asleep. 
 
 After a few moments, so calm, so untroubled was that beauti 
 ful brow, so sweetly smiled those ruby lips, that as I gazed, I 
 could not bglieve the spirit had fled. I could hardly refrain from 
 catching him in my arms. 
 
 " Walter ! oh, Walter ! ! " I cried, " can't you speak once more 
 to poor mamma?" I passionately kissed his brow, his eyes, his 
 beautiful lips ! oh, how proud I had been of those pouting, red 
 lips ; but they would never speak again. 
 
 I felt a strong ann put around me, and a kind voice told me I 
 must not stay. My dear husband led me to the library, while
 
 OE, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 235 
 
 mother, with Emily and Ann, performed the last offices for the 
 dearly loved one. 
 
 " Oh, Frank ! " said I, " why, why were you gone ? " 
 
 He hid his face in his hands, and his bosom heaved convul- 
 . ively. It is dreadful to see a man weep. I put my arms around 
 uis neck, and we wept long and bitterly. It was so sudden, the 
 Mow staggered me. It was now morning. Only yesterday morn- 
 nig, and my Walter was well; now, where is he? 
 
 I started. " Oh ! what will Pauline say ? " 
 
 Frank went softly up stairs, and found her quietly sleeping, 
 and he did not awake her. How I dreaded her awaking ! 
 When I looked up, as Frank came into the room, I was shocked 
 at the pallor of his countenance ; his lips were closely shut, and I 
 started to my feet, almost fearing he were about to fall. He 
 pressed me tightly in his arms for a moment, and then we silently 
 lifted up our hearts to God for strength to say, " Thy will be done." 
 
 After this, I was, myself, astonished at the calmness which 
 ^tole over me. I went to my chamber, though he would have 
 detained me ; and there I saw my little one more beautiful than 
 ever. The impress of heaven was upon his brow ! 
 
 By his side stood Pauline in her night dress ; her long curls 
 hanging carelessly down her back, her eyes distended, her lips 
 parted as if to speak. With one hand she touched the little fin 
 gers laid together upon the breast, then started back, awed by the 
 marble coldness. I sprang toward her and caught her in my 
 arms. So quietly had she stepped from her low bed in the ad 
 joining room, and come to see if her brother was awake, that 
 mother and sister who sat weeping at the farther end of the apart 
 ment, had not noticed her until I entered. 
 
 " Mamma," asked the frightened voice, " what is the matter 
 with my brother? his hands are very cold." 
 
 I put a shawl around her, sat down with her in my lap, and 
 bogan to tell her, but burst into tears. She heard sobbing, and 
 looked from one to another frightened, and wondering.
 
 236 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 Emily came and tried to tell her that her dear little brother 
 had gone to God. 
 
 She pointed to the crib, as if to say he was there. 
 
 Emily said, " his soul has gone to God." 
 
 " And has papa's soul gone too ? " she asked quickly, " my 
 brother couldn't go alone ; he was too little." 
 
 Oh, how my tears burst forth afresh ! 
 
 " Pauline," said Emily, " the angels came from heaven to take 
 dear little Walter's soul up to God. Jesus wanted him there." 
 
 " How long will he have to stay there ? " 
 
 " Oh, Pauline ! " I exclaimed, " he will never, never come back, 
 we shall never see him again." 
 
 The poor stricken child sobbed aloud. Mother took her from 
 me. " Go to Frank," she whispered, " and I will try to soothe 
 her." 
 
 I went below, and softly entered the library, where my dear 
 husband knelt by the sofa, with his face buried in his hands. I 
 went gently to his side, when he put his arm around me. I 
 whispered, ' : pray for me too." And in a broken voice, inter 
 rupted by convulsive sobs, he did pray that we might not mur 
 mur at this stroke of our father's rod. 
 
 After a while, I heard a gentle knock at the door, and Cossar's 
 voice asking if mass'r Frank would please eat some breakfast. 
 When he saw me, the poor man cried aloud. Oh ! what an idol 
 he had made of his young master ! His large faithful heart was 
 swelling with grief, which he had in vain tried to control. I gave 
 him my hand, and found a world of comfort in his sympathizing 
 tears. 
 
 " Oh, missus Lenox ! " said he sobbing, " I 'spects 'twas God's 
 will." 
 
 " Yes, Cresar, but it's hard for my poor heart to say ' Thy will 
 be done.' You must pray for me, Czesar." 
 
 " Oh, missus ! " said he, " we'se all got to pray for dat." 
 
 I left Frank walking the room, and went up stairs where mother
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 237 
 
 n r as dressing Pauline. Ann I found sitting on a trunk in her 
 chamber, with her head upon the bed, weeping bitterly. 
 
 "My good Ann," I said, "will you come in and stay by the 
 t ide of the crib while we are below ? " I tried to compose myself, 
 but broke down again. 
 
 " I can't, oh, I can't ! " she cried, " don't ask me. I can't see 
 him yet." Finding her in such a condition, I left her, and beg 
 ged mother to allow me to remain with my boy; but she said, it 
 'vas my duty to go below to my husband. It was in vain for us 
 lo try to eat. Pauline sobbed so violently, that her father was 
 obliged to hold her in his arms to soothe her. I severely blamed 
 myself for saying what I said to the sensitive child. 
 
 " My little daughter," said Frank in a most touching tone, 
 ' when you say your prayers, do not you ask God to make you a 
 good child, so that you can go to heaven ? And then you prayed 
 God last night to make your little brother good, so that he could 
 go ; did you not ask this ? " 
 
 She could hardly speak, but she sobbed out, " I didn't ask God 
 to take him so soon, I wanted us to go together." 
 
 Her father could but press her to his heart. How often had 
 we prayed that they might be fitted for heaven ; but alas ! had 
 not dreamed of such a sudden separation. 
 
 Tuesday, March 20th. 
 
 Our little one lies buried in a shady knoll at the end of the gar 
 den, and there, when I have done with time, I hope to be laid 
 beside him. Many times in the day do we bend our steps to the 
 quiet retreat, and weep over the little grave. Pauline weeps less, 
 and by the deep spiritual light in her eyes, I think she begins to 
 understand something of the glory and purity of that world where 
 her beloved brother has gone. 
 
 Our good friends Cresar, Phebe, Ann, and Euth, have shared 
 so truly in our grief, that I feel as if they were related to us.
 
 238 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 Poor Am? is almost unfitted for everything. Whenever she sees 
 his clothes or toys she weeps afresh. 
 
 With regard to myself, I feel at times a submission to the di 
 vine will, and even can realize the blessedness of my child in being 
 with his Saviour, freed from sin and temptation to do evil ; and 
 then I am calm. But the merest trifle unnerves me. I have not 
 had the heart to put away his clothes, and his little cap and 
 cloak have hung in the hall as heretofore. A day or two since, I 
 missed the cap from the hook, and going into the library I found 
 my dear husband in an agony of grief over it. I was thankful 
 that I was now able to be the comforter. 
 
 Thursday, June 7th. 
 
 I suppose ere this you have received the sad intelligence in my 
 last, together with one of later date from Frank. 
 
 I have but just arrived at home from a journey to B and 
 
 some other places. I was exceedingly unwilling to leave my 
 husband, whose duty detained him at home. But both on my 
 own account and Pauline's, he thought it best to change the scene. 
 
 If it were not for the night, I could control my feelings ; but I 
 dream of my boy, and awake to find myself childless. Often he 
 seems to stand by me or float before me in the air, and that 
 dreadful, agonized " mamma " he uttered, rings in my ears, and 
 awakes me in affright. 
 
 Of late, however, I have been less disturbed, and my dreams 
 of him are delightful. Frank is unwilling to have me dwell so 
 much upon my sorrow, and when I see him, though pale and 
 suffering, going on quietly with his round of duties, I feel re 
 proved. 
 
 I commenced writing of our journey. We went directly to 
 
 B after receiving a very kind invitation from uncle and aunt 
 
 Morgan. Mother came over to the house to be with her son, and 
 Emily accompanied me. Our journey was shorter than the for-
 
 OK, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 239 
 
 mcr one, being all the way by railroad. We found our thoughtful 
 cousin waiting for us at the station. The sight of his smiling face 
 brought my little Walter so forcibly to mind, that I was complete 
 ly overcome. Poor fellow ! he was much distressed, and tried to 
 soothe me. Pauline was delighted to see him, and put her hand 
 in his, as confidingly as of old. 
 
 Uncle and aunt received us with parental tenderness. I was 
 glad to hear from them so good an account of their son. lie has 
 
 gone into business in B , and bids fair not only to be a 
 
 wealthy, but a useful man. He went unknown to his parents and 
 collected a Sabbath-school in the outskirts of the town, and in 
 a place where the inhabitants had heretofore been regarded as too 
 al andoned to be reclaimed. Here for a year past he has spent 
 all the time he could command from other duties, during the week, 
 as well as on the Sabbath, and now it is called the " Morgan 
 parish." 
 
 Many who have known Joseph from babyhood, shook their 
 heads when he commenced this labor of love ; and thought, he 
 only intended it for a new frolic, that the novelty would soon 
 t pass away, and he would tire of the confinement. But as they 
 see him more and more interested in his school, comprising now 
 not only children, but parents, they feel a great respect for the 
 young man. 
 
 I am quite amused at the way he treats Pauline, a little maiden 
 of five years. He never plays with her, as it would be natural 
 for him to do with a child of her age, but appears to regard her 
 as something sacred ; and is as delicate in his attentions as if she 
 had numbered four times five years. 
 
 But cousin has not lost his character for fun. He would not 
 be Joseph if he had ; but he is very careful in his jokes not to 
 wound the feelings of others. Then his manner of treating his 
 parents is so much more respectful than formerly. Dear uncle 
 and aunt ! With what pride do they look upon his fine manly 
 form and his bright happy face. Then they know this is a sure
 
 240 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 index of his heart. I found out his age while we were there, 
 which was less than I had supposed. But I will keep his secret. 
 
 After a delightful visit at B we returned by a somewhat 
 
 circuitous route to visit other relatives, to whom I was not an 
 entire stranger, having met them at mother's. Pauline was very 
 much delighted with travelling, and Emily took pains to point out 
 to her every object of interest. 
 
 I must not omit to mention a circumstance which occurred be 
 fore we left B . Joseph was reading various items from a 
 
 New York paper while we sat around the breakfast table to which 
 we all listened with interest, when he came upon the following. 
 " We learn that the Honorable Mr. Karswell, and family, of the 
 firm of C. M. Karswell and brothers, are about to leave by the 
 packet ship Cambria for Liverpool, where he is to meet his son, 
 who has been travelling for a number of years in company with 
 a distinguished clergyman, formerly settled in Waverley, Massa 
 chusetts, when they intend to make the tour of Europe and to 
 visit the Holy Land. Mr. Karswell considers himself very 
 fortunate in having been able to avail himself of the company 
 of Mr. Benson in their travels ; he being familiar with the Ian-, 
 guages of the countries through which they pass ; and every way 
 a great acquisition." 
 
 I could not tell how Emily looked, for I took particular pains to 
 be occupied with Pauline, but I am sure my own face burned. 
 
 " Well," said uncle, " pass on to the next," little aware what 
 an interest that small item had to some of the hearers. Emily 
 soon made an excuse to leave the room, and I thought it best not 
 to revert to the subject. In the course of the day I looked over the 
 paper to see if any part of this communication had been omitted 
 in the reading ; when to my astonishment it was nicely cut out. 
 
 Aunt looked up at my expression of surprise and said, " ! 
 Emily asked if we had done with the paper, she wanted to cut 
 out a pattern of something." I had my own thoughts, but of 
 course said nothing, and so the subject passed. I may as well 

 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 241 
 
 sa} here that on my return, I asked Frank what family Mr 
 K; rswell had, and learned that there were two accomplished 
 daughters. He has been a widower many years, and the eldest 
 dai ighter has kept house for him. The younger one, Gertrude, 
 Fr ink says, gave promise of great beauty. 
 
 ?rank was a little troubled about the cutting out of that 
 " p Utern " from the paper, especially as Emily did it so secretly. 
 " If she loves him yet," said he, " she has had a severe punishment 
 for her proud dissimulation." 
 
 On our return from New York, and when we were within 
 thirty miles of home, the cars were full, and Emily was separated 
 from us by two seats, Pauline and I being together. A gentleman 
 iwho was a stranger to me took the vacant seat by sister. He 
 nnt very much browned, as if he had come from a foreign clime, 
 but altogether a noble specimen of man. After a few moments I 
 kvas astonished to see them in the full tide of conversation, Emily 
 being more interested than I had seen her for many a day. The 
 burden of the conversation at length devolved upon her, while 
 lie grew more and more taciturn, until I saw that he put his hand 
 kerchief to his eyes and was much overcome by what she said, 
 he turned a little toward her companion, I saw that her own 
 pyes were humid with tears ; and I wondered at the meaning of 
 [his emotion. Fortunately for my curiosity, we soon reached a 
 tation, and the persons sitting in front of us left. Emily and her 
 ompanion immediately arose and availed themselves of this seat. 
 I was not a little surprised, as well as pleased, when Emily 
 laid to me, " Do you remember, Cora, I told you about Edward 
 [tylaud, brother to your little Anna's mother?" 
 Yes, perfectly." 
 
 Well, this is he, just returned from India. He has not heard 
 j'om his sister for many years. I have been giving him a sketch 
 I' her history." 
 
 I cordially gave him my hand, which he grasped so warmly, 
 at 1 did not recover from the pressure during the remainder of 
 
 21
 
 242 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 our ride. He begged for all the news, saying, " I am absolutely 
 famished for intelligence from home friends." He was very much 
 affected at hearing of the reformation and peaceful death of Squire 
 Lee ; and shocked though not much astonished at the conduct of 
 Joseph. From his frequent inquiries concerning families in 
 Waverley, I more than suspected there was some one in that place 
 whom the thought of meeting thrilled his soul with the sentiment, 
 
 " My heart 's so full of joy, 
 That I shall do some wild extravagance 
 Of love in public ; and the foolish world, 
 Which knows not tenderness, will think me mad." 
 
 "We were so much engaged in talking as to be unaware of our 
 near approach to Crawford, and sprang hastily to our feet as the 
 conductor called out the familiar name. Inviting Mr. Ryland to 
 make us an early call, we took a carriage and drove home, where 
 we had no reason to complain of our reception. I went into the 
 house very gently, and pushing open the library door, I saw my 
 own dear Frank sitting, reading with his back to the entrance. 
 I crept softly across the room, and put my arms around his neck. 
 He sprang to his feet letting his book fall, and caught me in his 
 arms. 
 
 " My wife, mine own, I will never let you leave me again. If 
 you go, I shall follow. I am good for nothing without you. 
 
 " Thinkest thott 
 
 That I could live, and let thee go, 
 Who art my life itself? no no." 
 
 "We then went to find mother and all the dear family. I had 
 been dreading the return for fear my grief would overpower me ; 
 but I was graciously supported. Frank was very kind, and kept 
 us busily talking. I believe Emily told every circumstance which 
 had happened during our absence, (which I omitted I mean) ex-
 
 OK, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 2'43 
 
 cept the one unimportant fact of her bogging arid saving as a 
 cl >ice article, an inch of waste paper. 
 
 Monday, September Wth. 
 
 Allen Mansfield and Lucy are very pleasantly settled near us. 
 M 's. Burns, and one of the chambermaids from Lee Hall form 
 their establishment, together with a little stranger a week old, 
 wl o has already received the name of Emily Lenox. Frank 
 says, Lucy is exceedingly happy and grateful for the sweet 
 treasure. 
 
 There is one event connected with this family, however, which 
 has cast a gloom over the whole town, at least the sober part of 
 it. The distillery, which was closed very soon after Squire Lee 
 wa? taken sick, has been started again, and is now in full tide of 
 operation under the energetic management of an agent procured 
 by Joseph. He is absent and Lee Hall is closed. Report says, 
 he lias gone abroad in company with his inseparable companion, 
 Mr. Colby. It is really saddening to think of a young man of 
 good talents, as Mr. Colby appeared to be, so entirely led away 
 and ruined by bad company. For many months before they went 
 away, his office was closed, and he made no pretensions to business. 
 He had his home entirely with Joseph, if home it could be called, 
 where there was drinking and fighting both in the parlors and in 
 the kitchen. Many times the man who professedly kept up the 
 establishment, had to call in help to separate Mr. Colby and 
 Joseph. When drunk, they tried to kill each other; but when 
 sober, or partly so, were apparently the best of friends.
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 " LOVE ! what a volume in a -word, an ocean in a tear! " 
 
 TUPPER. 
 
 Wednesday, June 10th, 1840. 
 
 DEAREST MOTHER, It is a week since sister Nelly sailed for 
 home. I am so lost without her, that I have determined to resume 
 my journal which has been interrupted for nearly two years. 
 
 I can never sufficiently thank you for sparing her to me so 
 long. I sent many messages by her which I could not find time 
 to write. If you are as much interested in my friends as she 
 was, she will give you the latest intelligence from them. She 
 would not be contented until she had received an introduction in 
 person. Many of them exceedingly regret her departure. 
 
 The family of Mrs. Reynolds, she Kked much, though she could 
 not see Anna, as she was adopted by her uncle Edward soon after 
 his marriage, and lives in New York. My suspicions were very 
 soon confirmed with regard to him, by an invitation to a wedding 
 at his sister's, where I was introduced to a Miss Grant, who in a 
 few moments became Mrs. Edward Ryland. 
 
 Miss Grant had waited patiently for her lover all these years ; 
 with a woman's true heart refusing to listen for a moment to other 
 proposals of marriage. Even her own parents were not aware 
 of the state of her affections, and had often urged her to give a 
 reason for not wishing to settle in life. All the reason the poor 
 girl could give, was that she did not love the suitor. But her 
 faithfulness is now rewarded, and Mr. Ryland hastened with his
 
 REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIPE. 245 
 
 bride to New York to become a partner in the firm for which he 
 went to India. 
 
 Mrs. Reynolds was very unwilling to part with Anna, more 
 especially on account of her husband's health, who would, she 
 feared, miss the lovely child. At that time William was very 
 feeble, and it was feared that his exposures in. his wanderings from 
 home in former years might bring on consumption. But for a 
 year past he has enjoyed perfect health. I suppose, Nelly will 
 tell you that a little miss has come to take Anna's place, 
 and that she is called Cora Lenox Reynolds. I never liked the 
 name better than when I have seen the little creature come shyly 
 up to me, turning her head one side and the other, and looking 
 out from under her curls to take something I had carried ; and 
 heard her lisp out her name, " Cowa Lenox." The Doctor makes 
 a great pet of her, and is so much delighted with her name that 
 it would be no wonder to me, if by and by there should be 
 quite a regiment of Cora Lenoxes among his patients. In that 
 case I should find it cheaper to import a quantity of silver cups 
 than to purchase them here. 
 
 I have no doubt much as Nelly desired to see the dear home 
 friends, that long ere this she has wished herself back for one 
 more frolic with her little namesake. "When I say to the darling, 
 u Baby want to see Aunt Nelly ?" she crows and screams with 
 di light. We all think her very like sister ; the same deep blue 
 eyes, and fair complexion, so different from her beautiful brother 
 who looked far more like a Lenox. I sometimes smile as strangers 
 
 D 
 
 notice the striking resemblance of Pauline to her father. I used 
 to fancy the same thing myself when she was a baby. 
 
 I long for the return of our dear friends Allen and Lucy, who 
 took sister in charge as far as New York, and saw her safely on 
 board ship. They enclosed me a short note from her, with her 
 last farewell just before she sailed. Emily says, "it seems as if 
 half Crawford were gone." We are all lonely without the lively 
 girl. 
 
 21*
 
 246 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 Miss Nelly calls and I must obey. Frank says, I am not half 
 as strict with her as I was with Pauline or Walter ; and it may 
 be true ; I feel so uncertain of her life, since our sweet boy was 
 taken away so suddenly. 
 
 T/iursday, June ISth. 
 
 Allen and Lucy returned yesterday, and we all went in to spend 
 the evening with them. Miss Emily Mansfield was allowed to 
 sit up to welcome her mamma, and could not be persuaded to leave 
 her for a moment. Sister is very proud of her little namesake. 
 
 We had been talking of sister Nelly and other topics in a lively 
 manner, when Lucy suddenly 'started, saying, "Bye the bye, 
 Emily, who do you think we saw on our way to Philadelphia ? " 
 and without waiting for a reply, " Mr. Benson, who used to be 
 settled in Waverley. I thought at one time that he was a flame 
 of yours ; but he is married now ; and to one of the most beauti 
 ful creatures I ever saw. She was leaning on his arm and look 
 ing up in his face with the most wife-like fondness." 
 
 Lucy talked so rapidly, and was so rejoiced to be the first 
 to tell the news, that she did not appear to notice the effect it 
 had on her hearers. If I had done anything, I should have burst 
 out crying. I had woven so many pretty romances about his 
 coming home faithful to sister, and all that, and finding out she 
 did love him. 
 
 As no one spoke, Frank paid with the utmost calmness, " he 
 married Miss Karswell, I suppose, sister of the young man with 
 whom he has been travelling." 
 
 " No, not sister," replied Lucy, " but a cousin, who accompanied 
 his sisters. Our informant who knew the family well, told me 
 that Charles was not altogether pleased, as he wished to marry his 
 cousin himself. She is a Southerner ; and they were on their 
 way td the south. lie is so much altered that I should hardly 
 have known him, if it were not for his mouth and voice. I stood 
 near them in the boat, and heard him say, he wished her parents
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 247 
 
 were to meet them in Philadelphia instead of Charleston, for it 
 would be extremely warm there at this season. She replied, 
 ' it shall be my endeavor to make it so delightful to you, that you 
 will forget the heat.' " 
 
 " Did n't you speak to them ? " I asked, recovering my voice. 
 
 " Yes, but it was just as we were leaving. He seemed really 
 annoyed that I had not made myself known at once. I told him 
 I was not sure for some time whether it were really he." 
 
 " ' Am I then so much altered ? ' said he sadly ; but at the same 
 time a beautiful smile played for one instant around his mouth, 
 and vanished." 
 
 " Then you were not introduced to his lady ? " 
 
 " No, though she kept tight hold of his arm, and seemed almost 
 impatient that he stopped even that short space. Altogether he 
 was the most distinguished gentleman on board the boat, always ex 
 cepting my own husband," she added, with a merry glance at him. 
 
 When the conversation turned to another theme, I ventured to 
 look at Emily. To my astonishment, she appeared to be wholly 
 engrossed in a new book, she had taken from the table ; but on 
 looking a moment I perceived a deadly pallor about her mouth ; 
 and suddenly remembered that we were making a very long call 
 upon persons just returned. 
 
 When we were at home, I merely ran to take a peep into the 
 nursery, and finding all quiet, I begged Frank to excuse me for 
 a few moments. 
 
 " Where is Emily ? " I asked of mother. 
 
 " She went to her room to lay aside her bonnet." 
 
 I followed, and found the poor girl in the very abandonment of 
 grief. She had tossed her bonnet into a chair, and was kneeling 
 by the bed, with her arms thrown over her head, which was 
 buried in the pillow. 
 
 I knelt by her side, putting my arms around her. " Dear 
 sister," I said, " don't weep so. Do let me comfort you." But I 
 stopped ; what could I say ?
 
 248 CORA AND THE DOCTOR ; 
 
 After a few moments, she arose and sat by me. " Oh, Emily ! " 
 I said, " if you look so, you will break my heart." 
 
 " I believe," she replied in a mournful tone, putting her hand 
 to her side, " that mine is broken. I thought I had schooled my 
 self to hear this. I ought to have expected it ; but oh ! I have 
 deceived myself." 
 
 I was never more embarrassed for words to express sympathy, 
 and was awkwardly silent. 
 
 " Cora," said she, looking at me, "there is no human being but 
 yourself whom I would allow to witness my " she hesitated, 
 "my grief at this intelligence. My poor mother would be. so 
 pained, if she knew her daughter loved another woman's husband." 
 This last sentence was spoken in her old bitter tone, and carried 
 me back to past years. "And it shall not be. To-morrow you 
 will see me the same as ever. Please, dear sister," she added, in 
 a softened tone, " never allude to my grief. It will soon be over." 
 
 It was only when she spoke of herself that her voice was harsh 
 and severe. I looked with admiration at her as she drew up her 
 form, and revealed the Lenox will, Frank sometimes refers to. 
 
 Mother looked very happy as her daughter came in smiling and 
 talking of Lucy's improved appearance since her return. My 
 face was by far the sadder of the two. I have never been able 
 to conceal my feelings. " Dear mother," I thought as I bid her 
 good night, " you would not sleep much if you knew what an 
 aching heart lay beneath that smiling face." 
 
 Saturday, June 20th. 
 
 Caesar carried me and my smaller treasures this afternoon to 
 see Aunt Susy, who has been rather failing in health this summer. 
 Pauline has been with me several times, and is always delighted 
 to accompany me there. But now I was going to introduce my 
 little Nelly, though not without some fears that the squeezing she 
 would get, would frighten the timid little thing. Aunt Susy is no 
 longer able to watch at the door to see who goes by ; but her
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 249 
 
 heart lias not grown cold while sitting in her easy chair. I stepped 
 into the entry and knocked at the inner door. 
 
 " Walk right in ! " In obedience to this invitation, I opened 
 the door, and with Nelly in my arms, went up to the old lady. 
 She looked over her glasses for a moment as if she did not recog 
 nize me with my haby, and before she could say anything, I laid 
 the little miss in her lap. 
 
 " Bless its little soul," said Aunt Susy, carefully laying aside 
 her knitting where the needles could n't hurt the child. " "Well 
 Miss Lenox, if that don't beat all. I never know 'd you 'd got 
 another ; " and to pay for being kept in ignorance, she began in 
 good earnest to squeeze it to her large warm heart. The buby 
 crowed with delight, and as oft as she had a kiss, would give a 
 snatch for the glasses. All this time Pauline and her mother 
 stood by unnoticed, while the dear child had her little red lips 
 mad6 up for a kiss. 
 
 " Here, Aunt Susy," I said, " give me the baby, this young lady 
 is waiting her turn." 
 
 The good woman went into the business fundamentally, and 
 now that she undertook with Pauline, she was in no haste to get 
 through. When they stopped to take breath she looked in Pau 
 line's face. " La ! it beats all natur how she grows like her pa." 
 
 The dear soul had forgotten the fact which interested her so 
 much years ago, and really supposed the child to be our own. 
 
 " There 's what do you call her ? " 
 
 " Ellen," I answered. 
 
 " There 's Ellen now, looks more like you, while Pauline is 
 clear father. I '11 venture he sets a sight by her." 
 
 Pauline laughed, though she did n't know exactly the meaning 
 of the latter phrase. 
 
 " Blessed little soul," she resumed with another squeeze, " what 
 made you think o' that ? " 
 
 " Because," said Pauline, " you are so kind." 
 
 I looked inquiringly at the whisperer.
 
 250 CORA AND THE DOCTOR ; 
 
 K La ! " said Aunt Susy wiping her eyes," the dear little cretur 
 says she loves me, and I don't know what it 's for, if 'taint that I 
 loved your pa long enough afore you was born ; and I used to hold 
 him on my lap, and sing < Eide a jack horse to Banbury cross,' 
 and he 'd laugh as hearty as the baby did just now." 
 
 At this very moment Mrs. Wilson returned from the garden, 
 when her mother called out, " Darter, did you ever hear tell that 
 Doctor Frank had had another baby ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, mother ! " she answered, shaking hands with me, 
 " and you knew it too at the time, but you 've forgotten." 
 
 " Well, p'r'aps I did," she said with a sigh, " my memory 's 
 grown very poor ; but I haven't forgotten where my Saviour is," 
 she added, her countenance brightening, " nor he wont forget me ; 
 though sometimes I 'm almost tempted to fear he don't altogether 
 remember how long I 've been expecting he 'd send for me to go 
 home. Every morning I ask him if it's God's will to take me 
 before night ; and every night I pray to go before the sun rises. 
 But he knows best, and I- try not to feel impatient o' waiting for 
 him." 
 
 I cannot describe the holy expression of the dear old lady as 
 she said this. 
 
 TJtursday, June 25th. 
 
 How little I thought when I wrote the last sentence, that I 
 should never more feel that Avarm embrace ; never meet those 
 eyes beaming with love. The dear blessed woman is now where 
 she so longed and prayed to be. Her Saviour had not forgotten 
 her, but came during the silent watches of the night and took her 
 home. 
 
 So silently did she resign her spirit to her beloved Lord, that 
 not even her daughter, whose room joins hers, and who heard her 
 whispering her prayers and hymns after she retired, knew aught 
 of the solemn visitor. But he was not unexpected, or unwelcome 
 to the sleeper. She was so impatient to answer the summons, sho
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 251 
 
 could not stop to bid farewell to her earthly friends. Her Saviour 
 called, and she hastened to obey. 
 
 In the morning Mrs. Wilson, after waiting beyond the usual 
 time, stepped softly to the bed side of her mother. Struck dumb 
 by the gloriously joyous expression, she went back to the sitting 
 room and beckoned her husband to look before she awoke the 
 sleeper, then leaning forward, said, " mother, mother ! " 
 
 " Oh ! wonder not, motherless daughter, that she is deaf to 
 your call. Her ears are listening to notes of heavenly music 
 which ravish her soul. Her eyes are feasting on her Saviour, and 
 she is satisfied, now that she beholds his face in glory ! " 
 
 I could not resist the wish to see that beautiful countenance once 
 more before it was forever buried from sight ; and my dear Frank 
 went with me to the chamber of death. I felt very sad as we 
 approached the house ; but when I entered the room where I had 
 always seen her, and looked beneath the linen cloth which 
 covered her from view, I could not weep. I felt as if I had 
 caught a glimpse of heaven. 
 
 " Surely," said I, " that wonderful smile is not of earth." 
 
 " Perhaps," said Frank, " it was the smile of welcome to the 
 messenger who summoned her home. Death was a welcome 
 guest to her." 
 
 As we gazed we could follow her rapt spirit to the mansions 
 of the blessed, and behold her heart ever more expanding with 
 love to her Saviour and her God. 
 
 " Thy face 
 
 Is all at once spread over with a calm 
 More beautiful than sleep, or mirth, or joy." 
 
 Wednesday, July 29th. 
 
 "VVe have heard that there are great preparations making in 
 "VVaverley for the welcome of their former pastor. It is now 
 more than a year since Mr. Tyler left them for another field of 
 hibor ; and when the parish heard that Mr. Benson had returned,
 
 252 CORA AND THE DOCTOR ; 
 
 they gave him a unanimous call to resettle with them. They 
 have not received a regular answer to their call ; but only that he 
 will be with them, providence permitting, the second Sabbath in 
 August. They seem to feel sure, however, that he will prefer to 
 settle with the people of his first love. And they are ready to 
 offer him a better support than they were able to do formerly. 
 The young men are fitting up the grounds about the parsonage, 
 and the whole village is alive with interest. I can't tell whether 
 to be glad or sorry. Perhaps if Emily were to see him often, she 
 would the sooner conquer any remaining interest she may feel for 
 him. 
 
 Since that first night, if she is indulging grief, she deceives even 
 me. Indeed, I told Frank to-day, after she left the room, that I 
 considered her uncommonly cheerful. But he thought otherwise, 
 and gravely shook his head. 
 
 TJmrsday, July 30th. 
 
 The parish committee in Waverley have received a communi 
 cation from Mr. Benson, that he hopes to be with them on Thurs 
 day, the sixth day of August, and should be happy to meet any 
 of his old people in the vestry or at any place they may appoint. 
 No sooner did they hear this than they determined that it 
 should be a feast of welcome. They are perfectly enthusiastic 
 in their love for him. I only hope his wife may be a suitable help 
 meet. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Munroe called here to-day to invite us in behalf 
 of the managing committee to be present on the occasion ; I 
 answered vaguely, " that if the Doctor were at liberty," etc., etc. 
 
 Friday, July 31st. 
 I am astonished at Emily here she has been planning a joui- 
 
 ney to C and has never let us know it until to-day. I went 
 
 in this morning to give her and mother the invitation left by Mr.
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 253 
 
 Munroe. She answered gayly, " I should be happy to go, but I 
 shall be far away before that time." 
 
 " Where ? " I asked in surprise. 
 
 " Oh, somewhere among the Catskill Mountains ; but," she con 
 tinued, " Ruth and I have made a nice loaf of cake. It is bride's 
 cake," she added, laughing gayly, as she brought from the closet a 
 large loaf beautifully frosted. I forgot to mention, that cake, 
 fruits, and flowers had been solicited for the occasion. 
 
 " Caesar," said Emily, " has promised me two bouquets made in 
 his best style ; and remember, Mr. Benson is to hold one and his 
 wife the other." Then, with a low courtesy in acknowledgment 
 of my profound amazement, she deposited the cake in the closet, 
 again. 
 
 " Emily," said I, as mother answered a summons from the 
 room, " I do believe you're getting crazed." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Because you laugh so much, and act so strangely." 
 
 " Well, dear sister," said she, growing very grave, " if crying 
 will suit you any better, I can easily do that," and leaning her 
 head upon the table, with her arms for her pillow, she gave way 
 to a passionate burst of grief. 
 
 " And sorrow too finds some relief 
 . In tears which wait upon our grief." 
 
 I stood in the middle of the room perfectly confounded, and 
 was hesitating whether I ought not to run home for Frank, when 
 hearing a distant door shut she started up, throwing her arms 
 around my neck, and said hurriedly, " Dear sister, don't look so 
 very sad. It has been a hard struggle ; but it is almost over. I 
 seldom give way as I have done now ; that is too great a luxury 
 to be indulged in often." 
 
 " At times e'en bitter tears yield sweet relief." 
 22
 
 252 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 they gave him a unanimous call to resettle with them. They 
 have not received a regular answer to their call ; but only that he 
 will be with them, providence permitting, the second Sabbath in 
 August. They seem to feel sure, however, that he will prefer to 
 settle with the people of his first love. And they are ready to 
 offer him a better support than they were able to do formerly. 
 The young men are fitting up the grounds about the parsonage, 
 and the whole village is alive with interest. I can't tell whether 
 to be glad or sorry. Perhaps if Emily were to see him often, she 
 would the sooner conquer any remaining interest she may feel for 
 him. 
 
 Since that first night, if she is indulging grief, she deceives even 
 me. Indeed, I told Frank to-day, after she left the room, that I 
 considered her uncommonly cheerful. But he thought otherwise, 
 and gravely shook his head. 
 
 Thursday, July 30th. 
 
 The parish committee in "Waverley have received a communi 
 cation from Mr. Benson, that he hopes to be with them on Thurs 
 day, the sixth day of August, and should be happy to meet any 
 of his old people in the vestry or at any place they may appoint. 
 No sooner did they hear this than they determined that it 
 should be a feast of welcome. They are perfectly enthusiastic 
 in their love for him. I only hope his wife may be a suitable help 
 meet. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Munroe called here to-day to invite us in behalf 
 of the managing committee to be present on the occasion ; I 
 answered vaguely, " that if the Doctor were at liberty," etc., etc. 
 
 Friday, July 31st. 
 I am astonished at Emily here she has been planning a joui- 
 
 ney to C and has never let us know it until to-day. I went 
 
 in this morning to give her and mother the invitation left by Mr.
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 253 
 
 ? Cunroe. She answered gayly, " I should be happy to go, but I 
 ? lall be far away before that time." 
 
 " Where ? " I asked in surprise. 
 
 " Oh, somewhere among the Catskill Mountains ; but," she con- 
 ( nued, " Ruth and I have made a nice loaf of cake. It is bride's 
 (ike," she added, laughing gayly, as she brought from the closet a 
 1 irge loaf beautifully frosted. I forgot to mention, that cake, 
 t /uits, and flowers had been solicited for the occasion. 
 
 " Cassar," said Emily, " has promised me two bouquets made in 
 1 is best style ; and remember, Mr. Benson is to hold one and his 
 vife the other." Then, with a low courtesy in acknowledgment 
 < f my profound amazement, she deposited the cake in the closet, 
 
 - S ain - 
 
 " Emily," said I, as mother answered a summons from the 
 a oom, " I do believe you're getting crazed." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Because you laugh so much, and act so strangely." 
 
 " Well, dear sister," said she, growing very grave, " if crying 
 M ill suit you any better, I can easily do that," and leaning her 
 head upon the table, with her arms for her pillow, she gave way 
 to a passionate burst of grief. 
 
 " And sorrow too finds some relief 
 .In tears which wait upon our grief." 
 
 I stood in the middle of the room perfectly confounded, and 
 was hesitating whether I ought not to run home for Frank, when 
 hearing a distant door shut she started up, throwing her arms 
 around my neck, and said hurriedly, " Dear sister, don't look so 
 very sad. It has been a hard struggle ; but it is almost over. I 
 Beldom give way as I have done noAV ; that is too great a luxury 
 to be indulged in often." 
 
 " At times e'en bitter tears yield sweet relief." 
 22
 
 254 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 She turned to leave me ; but I persisted in following her to her 
 room. We sat down after I had closed the door. Turning from 
 our late subject, she began to say something in a careless tone. 
 
 " Don't, Emily, don't speak so, that makes me feel worse than 
 anything." 
 
 " Cora," she exclaimed in an excited tone, as unlike the other, 
 as if she were a different person, " Cora, what do you think you 
 should do, if after all the years you 've loved Frank, you should 
 suddenly find out some day, you were committing sin every 
 moment you continued to love him ? Supposing you should some 
 day find out he had another wife ? " 
 
 " Oh ! sister," I answered, " I should die, I could n't help loving 
 Frank." 
 
 No, that would be too easy ; I '11 tell you what you should do," 
 drawing herself up to her full height, and looking almost like a 
 queen. " You must tear up your love by the roots ; you must 
 never allow one tender thought of him. Drive them out. Drive 
 them away ! You must keep saying to yourself, ' It is sin against 
 God! It is sin against my own soul! ' Night and day you must 
 do this." 
 
 " Dear, darling sister," said I, weeping upon her neck, " Is this 
 the way you have to do ? " I stood back and gazed at her with 
 admiration. Never had she seemed more beautiful. Her whole 
 countenance was brilliant with excitement ; and she looked like 
 one whose mind was made up to conquer or to die. But as I 
 stood, she put her arm lovingly around me. " Dearest sister, I 
 have done wrong to pain you thus ; and for my own sake I must 
 avoid suchf cenes. I must struggle and conquer alone. No, not 
 alone," she added in a subdued voice, "my Saviour will aid 
 me." 
 
 I took my leave, wondering if Mr. Benson had ever known a 
 pang like hers. I acknowledged to myself a rising prejudice 
 against the man for loving another.
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 255 
 
 Saturday, August 1st. 
 
 Emily is not quite well, and has postponed her journey until 
 the first of the week. How entirely mother is deceived by her 
 calmness. She spoke to me of it with tears in her eyes, and said 
 she was so thankful that the dear girl was quiet in her feelings. 
 How little we know of the misery that is passing before our eyes ! 
 But Emily is a noble hearted woman ; and she will not allow her 
 grief, which she always remembers is the effect of her own insin- 
 cerity,to trouble her friends. I have no doubt, I should sink under 
 such a blow. My heart aches when I think my tender-hearted, 
 sensitive Pauline may be destined to such a trial. But if she has 
 not the Lenox blood in her, she certainly has a great deal of 
 character, and never will make a tame woman. I wonder what 
 her little sister will be ? 
 
 ,' 
 
 Wednesday, August 5th. 
 
 If I can steady my hand sufficiently to hold a pen I will tell 
 you some news. I went this afternoon to the village on an errand 
 for Emily, who is still suffering from an attack of her old com 
 plaint, the nervous head-ache. In company with Pauline, I was 
 walking home slowly, as it is very warm, when a gentleman 
 passed me on horse-back. I did not recognize him ; but when I 
 addressed some remark to Pauline, he turned, sprang from his 
 horse, and was by my side in a moment. 
 
 " Mr. Benson ! " I exclaimed in a glad voice, for at the time I 
 only felt my old respect for him. His manner was very cordial ; 
 and I could not but acknowledge that he was greatly improved by 
 his travels. But as he grew more free, I became more embarrassed, 
 and as he walked by my side leading his horse, I began to wonder 
 what I should do with him. He took great notice of Pauline, in 
 whom he was formerly much interested. He had not yet inquired 
 for sister, and I determined to give him no chance. "I am sur 
 prised," I said, to see you on horse-back."
 
 256 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 " I was always fond of the exercise, and I have almost lived 
 on the backs of horses, or rather mules and camels for the last 
 five years." 
 
 " But now" said I, hesitating, meaning without his wife. 
 
 His countenance brightened with a smile, as he said, " You will 
 find me very little changed in my tastes. I am just the same 
 man." 
 
 I blushed with indignation, and wanted to say, " no, you are 
 very much altered, for you are a married man." " Where is your 
 wife ? " I asked, after a pause. 
 
 He started and looked me full in the face. Seeing I still waited 
 for an answer, he said, " I did not understand you." 
 
 " Where is Mrs. Benson ? " 1 repeated. 
 
 For an instant he looked terribly stern. Then recovering him 
 self, and evidently forcing a laugh, said, " that is a question far 
 easier to ask than to answer." 
 
 I made no reply, but looked at him in astonishment. 
 
 Seeing me very serious, he said, " I fear you are laboring under 
 a mistake, and are giving me more than is my due. I have not 
 the happiness to be a married man." 
 
 I 'm sure, I can't tell whether I screamed, or not ; I know I felt 
 like it. "And are n't you about to be married to Miss Karswell, 
 from the South ? " I asked eagerly. 
 
 He bit his lips as he smiled and looked down, but presently 
 said, " I have not even that honor." 
 
 "And not to " I checked myself in much confusion. 
 
 " Dear Mrs. Lenox," said he, taking my hand, " I see you are 
 the same kind friend as ever," and bowing adieu he sprang upon 
 his horse and rode away, looking back to send his regards to my 
 husband. I had not time or presence of mind to invite him to 
 call. But as soon as we were in our own grounds, I flew along 
 the walks, up the steps into the library, hoping Frank had returned. 
 I must tell somebody. Fortunately he was there. I ran across
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 257 
 
 the room, and began to caress him so convulsively that he started 
 up to see what could have happened. 
 
 " Why, Cora, you 're all in a heat. What excites you so ? " 
 
 " Wait till I can get my breath," said I, " Oh, Frank ! I 'm so 
 glad ! Mr. Benson is n't married !" 
 
 " But where is Miss Karswell from the South ? " said he 
 sternly. 
 
 " You need not look so grave, I don't care where she is ; only I 
 know he is neither married nor engaged to her." 
 
 " How do you know ? " he inquired in a doubting tone. 
 
 " Because I asked him, and he told me so." 
 
 Frank now began tg be as much astonished, and as eager for 
 news as I wished. I commenced at the beginning and related all 
 the conversation. " Now Frank," said I, when I had finished, 
 " Emily must n't go to C . Even if I had not seen Mr. Ben 
 son, and found out the mistake under which we were laboring, she 
 is not really well enough to undertake the jburney alone ; and I 
 feel confident that her only object in going was to avoid meeting 
 him at present." 
 
 " I grant all this, my dear, and love you for your enthusiastic 
 interest in your sister ; but you are going too fast ; and jumping 
 at a conclusion which may be far from true, that because he is 
 not engaged to be married to one particular lady at the South, it 
 necessarily follows that he must be in love with and wishing to 
 marry a lady who haughtily refused him five years ago. I can't 
 say, my dear, I think logic is exactly your forte." 
 
 " I don't wish any logic applied to'my love nor to that of those 
 with whom I have to do. I want nothing but the outbursting of 
 a full heart which overleaps all the deductions of logic. I should n't 
 think much of any man's love, much less of a woman's," said I 
 proudly, " who stopped to reason and calculate." 
 
 Frank smiled, as he saw me working myself up into such an 
 excitement. " Well," said he, " 1 think I can name one man who 
 reasoned and calculated, as you so indignantly express it, and who, 
 
 22*
 
 258 CORA. AND THE DOCTOR? 
 
 being well convinced that reason justified and approved his love, 
 he then calculated his chance of success, and finding that a pair 
 of bright eyes grew brighter at his approach, and that notwith 
 standing all the owner's efforts to prevent it, the blushes burned 
 upon her cheeks, he continued, 
 
 1 You know, you must have known, 
 I long have lov'd lov'd you alone, 
 But cannot know how dearly." 
 
 1 He told her if his hopes were cross'd, 
 His every aim in life was lost. 
 She knew he spoke sincerely.' " 
 
 " Then encouraged by her downcast looks, he allowed his heart 
 free vent, and soon found himself the fortunate owner of the most 
 true, and loving heart that ever man was blessed with." 
 
 I was completely overcome, though I tried to conceal it. " Oh ! " 
 said I, " if the lords of creation were only not so vain. There 
 might be ten thousand things to make one blush beside " but I 
 felt my own cheeks burn, and I concluded to return to the original 
 subject. Frank advised me certainly to tell Emily what I had 
 intended, but by no means to encourage in her the idea that Mr. 
 Benson wished to renew his addresses to her. 
 
 " You don't know, Emily," I said, " as well as I do. She has 
 as proud a spirit as your own ; and I think, she would die rather 
 than to allow any one to suppose* she were sitting meekly waiting 
 his affection." 
 
 Thursday, August Qth. 
 
 After the conversation yesterday afternoon, I was obliged to 
 own to myself that I had been too hasty in my conclusions ; and 
 I determined to be very careful of what I said to sister. I walked 
 over to the cottage, therefore, instead of running, as I felt inclined, 
 and found mother alone in the parlor completing a dress for Emily. 
 
 " Where is sister ? " I asked.
 
 OK, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 259 
 
 " She is in her room, packing. I wish you would persuade her 
 to give up this journey, or at least to postpone it. She really is 
 not well." 
 
 " That is just my errand. Frank is decided against it." 
 "Well then, go and talk with the child, and I wish you 
 success." 
 
 I peeped into the room, and saw her on her knees at the trunk, 
 
 while Ruth was passing articles to her young mistress from the 
 
 drawers, closets, etc. I said, " Ruth, I will take your place," and 
 
 she went below. Now I had prepared a kind of speech for the 
 
 occasion ; but at the time I could n't think of a word of it. 
 
 " Emjly," said I, sitting down instead of assisting her, " I have 
 
 come to ask a great favor of you. Will you grant it ? " 
 
 " Certainly, my love, why should you doubt it ? " 
 
 " Well then, Frank, mother and I, are very unhappy to have 
 
 you leave in your present state of health, and we ask you to please 
 
 defer your visit to C until another time." 
 
 Emily looked much troubled, as she rose and stood before me. 
 " you mean kindly ; but believe me, dear sister, it would be fur 
 better and easier for me to be away. My head-ache is better, and 
 is only occasioned by the heat." 
 
 " Well, darling, will you, to please me, postpone it for one 
 week ? " 
 
 She stood a full minute, as if calculating her own strength to 
 endure ; and then said, " I will, from such a motive, and for so short 
 a time." 
 
 " Then," said I, joyfully, " one subject is disposed of. You 've 
 granted me one favor, I want another." 
 
 " You 're fortunate," she replied, smiling, " in finding me in 
 good humor. However, you 're not very troublesome in that way. 
 I think I can venture to promise." 
 
 ".Well," said I, casting down my eyes, (I could not for my life 
 meet hers,) " I want that beautiful bride's cake." 
 
 " Why, Cora," she replied, as I glanced up and met a very
 
 260 CORA AND THE DOCTOR J 
 
 mischievous look, " I did n't know you were so fond of cake. I'll 
 make you half a dozen loaves." 
 No, but I want that one." 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Because," I answered, my heart leaping into my mouth, " there 
 will be no bride there to need it." 
 
 Emily started, and then said calmly, that makes no difference." 
 " But," said I, eagerly, " he has no bride. Mr. Benson is not 
 married. The report was false." 
 
 Poor girl ! she fairly shook with emotion, and her face turned 
 deadly pale. She gazed at me for one instant, and then threw 
 herself down by the side of the bed. "My God, I thank 
 thee for removing the awful load of guilt from my heart," was all 
 that I could hear, though she continued a long time in that attitude. 
 When she arose, I put my arm around her, as she sat shading her 
 face with her hand. 
 
 " Sister, you will be happier now." 
 
 " Yes, dear," she answered quietly, " you have removed a 
 great load of guilt from my soul, and I shall, I must feel 
 happier." 
 
 After a pause, I whispered, " you will not object to meet Mr. 
 Benson now." 
 
 She started to her feet with such a world of meaning in her 
 tone as she said, " Cora ! " 
 
 " I mean," said I, hesitating, " he is to be our neighbor again ; 
 and it would be so much pleasanter, and better every way, to be 
 on terms of friendship with him." 
 
 She looked so proudly as she stood before me, and said, " that 
 is hardly possible ; certainly not at all probable. He would not 
 wish it." 
 
 " Oh, I am sure he would ! " I exclaimed eagerly. " I have 
 seen him, and he says he is just the same man ; that his tastes are 
 not changed." 
 
 Oh ! what a beautiful rosy blush spread all over her cheeks aud
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 261 
 
 brow ; a bright light danced for one moment in her eye, and lead 
 ing me to the door, she said in a low tone, " you have made me 
 very happy. Please go and tell mother. I must be alone." She 
 put her hand to her heart to still the new and strange feeling of 
 hope that was springing up there.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 " The first fresh love 
 
 Dies never wholly; it lives on through pain 
 And disappointment ; often when the heart 
 Is crushed, and all its sympathies pressed out, 
 This lingers, and awakens, and shines bright." PERCIVAL. 
 
 Friday, August 7th. 
 
 THE visit of welcome passed off delightfully. The guests as 
 sembled in a spacious hall which was tastefully decorated for the 
 occasion. The tables were loaded with fruits and flowers, inter 
 mingled with substantial viands for such as preferred them. It 
 was Emily's desire that mother should accompany us ; and we 
 entered early to witness the reception of the pastor. Mr. Benson 
 had requested that there should be as little formality as possible. 
 The services opened by an appropriate original hymn. By whom 
 do you think it was written ? By Mrs. Anna Reynolds, who was 
 a native of Waverley. Mr. Munroe invoked a blessing, and then 
 all went forward to shake hands with their beloved pastor, and ex 
 press their joy at his return. 
 
 After allowing his own people their first claim to his notice, 
 Frank walked up with mother and myself. A great crowd had 
 pressed around the traveller, but when the Doctor's tall form 
 approached, he darted forward, eager to express his welcome to 
 us ; not, however, without a quick glance behind us, as if missing 
 an absent member of our family. 
 
 " We have come," replied the Doctor, " to welcome you, though 
 I think my wife has already had that pleasure."
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 263 
 
 He bowed over my hand, and expressed his delight at the honor 
 we had done him. Amidst all the claims upon his attention, and 
 he had a kind word and smile for every one, he soon made an 
 opportunity to approach the place where our little party stood, and 
 suggesting to the Doctor the awkwardness of a gentleman being 
 without a companion, begged me to take his arm. " I have not 
 had an opportunity," he said, smiling, " to ask after the health of 
 your sweet little girl, Pauline, I think is her name." 
 
 " She is quite well," I replied. 
 
 " That does not, I think, embrace all of your family." 
 
 " Oh, no ! there is a dai-ling little Nelly at home ; sister is with 
 her this evening, as she wished mother to have the pleasure of 
 being here." 
 
 He looked at me earnestly for a moment, as if he would fain 
 have asked a question, but dared not. For want of something 
 better to do, he picked up a flower which had dropped from a 
 vase, and began to analyze it, but seeing an arch smile upon my 
 face which I could not repress, he hastily threw it aside. 
 
 " You must not infer," I said at length, pitying his embarrass 
 ment, " because sister and Pauline are not here, that they do not 
 wish you a hearty welcome ; but Emily has had her trunk 
 packed for a number of days to go a journey, and she only post 
 poned it as an accommodation to me." 
 
 Just then he was called away ; but turned back to go with me 
 to my husband, saying in a low voice, " have I your permission 
 to make you an early call ? " 
 
 " I should have invited you the other day," I answered, " if 
 you had not been in such a hurry." 
 
 He had a queer look as he smiled and said, " your questions 
 had somewhat confused me, I acknowledge. I must ask an ex 
 planation at some future time." 
 
 " Ah," said I, " I rather think you will be the one who will be 
 required to give an explanation." 
 
 We had been slowly making our way through the crowd to the
 
 264 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 other end of the hall, where mother and the Doctor awaited us, 
 for the entertainment to commence ; but Mr. Benson seemed not 
 to notice the signs of impatience from the young people, and 
 replied in an impressive manner, I shall only be too happy to 
 answer any questions you may wish to ask." 
 
 While waiting for the company to be quiet, Frank touched my 
 burning cheek, and whispered archly, " I hope Emily is not of a 
 jealous disposition." 
 
 She is a Lenox," I replied gravely. 
 
 It took some time for the company to form themselves around 
 the table ; when the pastor's voice was heard in prayer for the 
 first time since his return, thanking the Author of all our bless- 
 ings, for the kind care which had watched over us during our long 
 separation, and brought pastor, people and friends together under 
 such delightful circumstances. The prayer was short, but very 
 tender and appropriate. Many wept for joy at their beloved 
 teacher's return ; but soon all were engaged in the business of 
 the hour, and nothing was heard for some time but the clatter of 
 plates and spoons, and the eager voices asking to be helped. It 
 was quite enough for me to watch the others. I smiled as I saw 
 Mr. Benson standing with his eyes fixed abstractedly upon his 
 plate, while his thoughts were evidently far away. 
 
 I must pass quickly over the speeches, singing, etc., which 
 occurred when all had eaten, and were full." We had intended 
 to excuse ourselves early, and return home, but found no oppor 
 tunity to do so. Frank made a short speech of welcome, which 
 if I am a judge was as acceptable to the traveller as any other. 
 Then all were requested to join in a closing hymn, when we 
 withdrew to our homes. 
 
 Frank said to Mr. Benson at parting, that as an old friend, he 
 would always be welcome at our house, and mother reiterated the 
 same. I fancied Frank was slightly embarrassed. " Good night, 
 Mr. Benson," I said, shaking hands from the carriage. " Remem 
 ber your promise to call soon and renew your acquaintance with 
 with my little Pauline."
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 265 
 
 He bowed low to conceal a smile, and we started for home by 
 a most serene but bright moonlight. 
 
 Saturday, August 8th. 
 
 This morning Emily came over to the house as usual to see 
 and frolic with the baby. As Ann was carrying on a great 
 business in the nursery, in the way of cleaning, we took the 
 young ladies to the parlor. Nelly was so noisy that we could not 
 hear ourselves speak. I ladghed until I cried at sister, as she 
 threw the baby high over her head, and then tossed her back into 
 her lap. A slight sound made me turn, and there I beheld the 
 elegant, distinguished traveller, whose praise was in every mouth, 
 standing in the door-way with the most complacent of smiles. I 
 sprang up. " Emily" said I quickly ; but it was too late. Miss 
 was safely perched on her head again, her tiny feet kicking, and 
 her delighted shout ringing through the room. 
 
 In exactly this position was my refined sister when her wonder 
 ing eyes caught the first glimpse of the intruder. Quick as light 
 ning the aspiring child was brought down from her high position, 
 and set upon the carpet, while Emily looked for an instant as if 
 she were meditating a rapid descent through the floor. But it was 
 too ludicrous. "VVe looked at one another and burst into a hearty 
 laugh. I have my doubts if any foreign ambassador was ever 
 more relieved at the termination of a troublesome embassy, than 
 was our friend Mr. Benson, at this favorable opportunity for re 
 newing past friendship. 
 
 " They met 
 
 Whose hands, not souls, had long been parted, 
 To smile and in that smile forget 
 All in the feeling We have met ! " 
 
 Emily, like a noble girl as she really is, advanced frankly to 
 ward our visitor ; and though her hair was dressed in rather an 
 odd style by baby ; and her cheeks were rather too rosy from her 
 violent exercise ; yet the clergyman did not appear to like her the 
 less on that account. He fixed his deep penetrating eyes for one 
 
 23
 
 266 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 moment on hers ; but I don't know whether he gleaned anything 
 very satisfactory from them, as hers were quickly dropped, and 
 her long black lashes were an effectual shield. Emily had too 
 much good sense to apologize for her dishabille ; and I am sure 
 she needed no apology, for though in a simple white wrapper, 
 fastened to the throat by a cameo brooch, and a black silk apron ; 
 yet I thought again and again as I looked, that there was a beauty 
 about her which I had never witnessed before. There was a kind 
 of consciousness or shyness which was very bewitching. I am 
 quite sure there was one beside myself of similar opinion, for he 
 improved well the opportunity her downcast eyes afforded to gaze 
 unreproved. Nelly, however, was by no means satisfied at the 
 sudden termination of her frolic, and was constantly climbing to 
 her aunt's knee, to recommence the play. She appeared perfectly 
 astonished at the unwonted neglect she received ; but finding at 
 length that she could not accomplish her object, crept quietly away 
 to her toys. 
 
 Pauline now came in, having accomplished her self-imposed 
 task of reading aloud to Phebe in the kitchen. It may be doubted 
 whether the faithful woman gained much instruction from informa 
 tion received under such unfavorable auspices. But Pauline was 
 full of zeal ; and though Phebe walked heavily from pantry to 
 sink, and from sink to closet in the performance of her duties, yet 
 as she refrained from talking, the dear child never doubted but 
 she was much interested. With her open book in her hand, she 
 came running into the room, and at a call from Mr. Benson, 
 advanced gracefully toward him. 
 
 He took her book, and talked Avith her of its contents. As I 
 looked at them, I could hardly identify him as the same man who 
 had formerly been nearly as much an object of pity, as of respect. 
 He was now a thoroughly polished gentleman, who had beea 
 received at almost every court in Europe, and who had, for the 
 last two years, been travelling in close companionship with one of 
 the most cultivated families in New York. I longed to ask about the
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 26? 
 
 Misses Karswell, but knew that the present was not a suitable 
 time. 
 
 Emily had now recovered herself, and the conversation became 
 general. We conversed regarding places of interest in England 
 and France, and found during the two hours he remained, that in 
 whatever else he had failed, he certainly had acquired the art of 
 conversation. Perhaps he might have been more than usually 
 inspired on the present occasion, for he rendered himself a most 
 delightful companion. Sister usually claims for herself a good 
 sluu'e of the talking ; but at this time was so obliging as to be a 
 willing listener. When Mr. Benson arose, I invited him to remain 
 and dine with us ; but he politely declined, saying he must be in 
 his study as he had not completed his preparation for the Sabbath. 
 But he added that he should be happy to pay his respects to 
 mother before he took leave. 
 
 " Emily will accompany you to the cottage," I said, wholly un 
 mindful of her imploring glance. She put on her hat, and with a 
 shake of her head at me, she walked with him across the garden, 
 lie having secured permission to repeat his call at an early day. 
 
 When Frank came home we had a hearty laugh over our 
 morning adventures. " I should have liked to have been present," 
 said he, " and to have seen Emily caught in that way." 
 
 Soon after, Frank left ; it was about three o'clock, I think, 1 
 went over to the cottage to laugh at sister, or, with her, just as she 
 felt inclined, when on opening the parlor door, there sat the gen 
 lleman as unmoved, as though two sermons were not lying on his 
 <tudy table waiting to be completed. When he saw me, I solemnly 
 declare the man blushed, and no wonder, when he had declined so 
 polite an invitation at our house. I felt inclined to joke him. " 1 
 am very glad, sister," I said, " that you persuaded Mr. Benson to 
 remain and prepare his sermons here, where he will not be liable to 
 the interruptions incident to his first arrival at home." 
 
 He sprang up and took my hand, saying, " spare me, dear Mrs. 
 Lenox ; but I must indeed be gone," and he hastily bid us adieu.
 
 268 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 Mother was at a loss to account for his sudden flight, until I 
 told her, he had come in here in order to obtain assistance in 
 preparing for the duties of the Sabbath. 
 
 Friday, August 
 
 Last evening we were invited to a select party at Allen Mans 
 field's. The Doctor, Emily, and I accepted the invitation. Among 
 the first guests came Mr. Benson, whose unexpected entrance 
 brought a bright blush to Emily's cheek. lie was quite the lion 
 of the evening, and all seemed interested and profited by the 
 conversation between him and Frank, who had taken nearly the 
 same tour of Europe. But he paid sister very little attention, 
 though I could see that he watched her closely as her lovely 
 countenance varied with her emotion. "Ah," said I to myself, as 
 the evening closed without his having addressed a single remark 
 directly to Emily, " if you are making love, you have considerably 
 changed your tactics during your absence." 
 
 Emily was just taking her brother's arm to walk home, as it 
 was but a short distance, when the young clergyman joined us, 
 saying, " I am sure, Doctor, you are far too generous to monopolize 
 more than your share," and he offered his arm to sister. I suppose 
 it is not an uncommon habit for gentlemen of the cloth to be 
 
 " Like Isaac with a mind applied 
 To serious thoughts at eventide,' " 
 
 and Emily was far too good a girl to interrupt such pious medi 
 tations. 
 
 Thursday, September 3d. 
 
 Mr. Benson called to-day with young Karswell, who is about 
 twenty-four years of age. Mother and sister were passing the 
 day here. The young man came on to make his friend a visit ; 
 and told us he had lived with him so many years, he could not
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OP A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 269 
 
 well live without him. I saw that he was very much pleased with 
 Emily, and engaged her attention almost wholly, while Mr. Ben 
 son directed all his conversation to mother, and hardly appeared 
 to notice that she was in the room. For the last few times he 
 has called, especially if any stranger is present, he is extremely 
 reserved. Even so intimate a friend as the one to-day, rendered 
 him very unlike the Mr. Benson when first returned. They made 
 quite a long call, and Mr. Karswell managed to procure an invita 
 tion to return, saying that he must see the Doctor, as his father 
 had often spoken of him. I should judge him to be a frank, open 
 hearted fellow ; but with nothing very marked in his character. 
 lie is rather pretty, than handsome, with features delicate enough 
 for a girl, and somewhat effeminate in manner. 
 
 Friday, September ktli. 
 
 Young Karswell came again to-day and alone, saying, " it is 
 dreadfully dull at Waverley, and as Mr. Benson was not inclined 
 for a ride, I thought I would take one myself and say nothing 
 about it." He asked for sister, and said he thought her handsomer 
 than any lady he had seen when abroad, because there was so much 
 variety in her expression. I accompanied him to the cottage, 
 where in a few moments he appeared to feel as much at home, as 
 if in his mother's parlor. I never knew one, so entirely a stranger, 
 talk so freely of himself, arid his friends. He made quite a con 
 fident of Emily, telling her that his cousin Virginia, who accom 
 panied them in their travels, "was dead in love with Mr. Benson." 
 
 " We heard," said I, joining them, " that he was married to your 
 cousin from the South." 
 
 He laughed heartily, as he said, " it is not Virginia's fault that 
 the report is not true, for she would gladly have given herself and 
 her fortune into the bargain. I have often wondered why he did 
 not take her, instead of settling down in such a tame place as 
 Waverley." 
 
 Emily's eyes sparkled as she replied, " Mr. Benson is a clergy- 
 23*
 
 270 CORA AND THE DOCTOR ; 
 
 man, and no place is tame to liini where there are souls to be 
 saved." 
 
 Young Karswell gazed at her with admiration, as if he would 
 willingly make her angry to see her light up so again. But he 
 only said, " Mr. Benson is not a marrying man. J don't believe 
 he has it in him to fall in love. During all our travels, though we 
 met with scores of beautiful ladies, I never saw him pay them 
 anything beyond the attention politeness required." 
 
 Emily involuntarily let her work fall from her hands, but 
 instantly recovered herself, and redoubled her diligence. 
 
 j< By the way," continued Mr. Karswell, " is Mr. Benson always 
 as cheerful as he was yesterday ? " 
 
 I thought he was speaking in irony, and made no reply. 
 
 " Because," he added, " he is generally the most reserved man, 
 I ever met. I used to think myself very witty if I could succeed 
 in making him laugh ; but when he did, it was just like lightning 
 in a thunder cloud. Sister Gertrude was always raving about his 
 beautiful mouth." 
 
 I left Emily to entertain the gentleman and returned to my 
 babies. It was a full hour before I saw him riding out of the 
 yard. 
 
 Tuesday, September 8lh. 
 
 Quite a laughable scene took place here this afternoon. Mr. 
 Karswell has been over every day this week ; and Emily has 
 become so tired of hearing him talk, that for the last day or two 
 she has invited him to the house with her, for me to help entertain 
 him. I believe the fellow is really in love, or else he is silly, I 
 can't tell which. To-day she came in, having warned me before 
 hand that she should certainly plead other engagements, and leave 
 him with me. We were hardly seated before Cfesar opened the 
 hall door for Mr. Benson, who had not called since he first 
 introduced him. No sooner did Mr. Karswell hear his voice than 
 he jumped from his seat, and tried to escape from the room ; but
 
 OB, REVELATIONS OP A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 2'* 
 
 not being able, he had only time to secrete himself behind tin 
 door before his friend entered with a remarkably grave face. No^ 
 you well know how next to impossible it is sometimes to keep from 
 laughing when you ought. And though I bit my lips and tried 
 my utmost, yet the motion had been so unexpected, that I could 
 hardly refrain from being rude. I advanced to the gentleman and 
 told him with a broad laugh on iny face, that it was a very long 
 time since he had called. Emily would not look up, but kept her 
 hat which she held in her hand before her face. I could well 
 understand Mr. Karswell's allusion to the thunder cloud, for I 
 never saw a man put on a more terrible frown. I felt matters 
 were going too far ; and was determined to get the young man 
 from his concealment, when Pauline ran in, and shut the door after 
 her. Then the cause of my merriment stood revealed. Seeing 
 there was no help for it, he walked out cooly and shook hands 
 with his friend. I was now very earnest to explain, and to do the 
 young man justice ; he was willing to take his full share of the 
 joke. Mr. Benson had not yet been seated, and I feared he 
 would leave under a false impression. 
 
 Mr. Karswell thought of nothing but appeasing Emily, whom 
 he feared he had offended, He sat down by her in quite too 
 familiar a manner, which I was glad to see she instantly resented. 
 She rose from her chair, and though her countenance was very 
 pale, said, " your friend unintentionally placed us all in a very 
 awkward situation. Please excuse it." 
 
 I looked my thanks at her, and we resumed our seats. Mr. 
 Benson turned the conversation by asking Emily if she were fond 
 of riding on horseback. 
 
 " I used to be very fond of it," she replied, " but I have not 
 been accustomed to the exercise of late." 
 
 He asked her to accompany him this evening ; with a heightened 
 color she assented. Mr. Karswell- at length rose to go, and Mr. 
 Benson soon followed, though I urged him to stay.
 
 272 CORA AND THE DOCTOR. 
 
 Saturday, September 26th. 
 
 Mr. Karswell was called home the very day after his unsuc 
 cessful attempt to conceal himself. I was not at all sorry ; and I 
 don't believe Mr. Benson mourns very much. 
 
 Emily came in this morning with such a conscious manner, that 
 I knew something had happened. She whispered to me to send 
 Pauline away for a moment, when she hid her face in my neck 
 and whispered " Cora, I am very happy." 
 
 I was curious and inquisitive ; but she would only tell me a 
 word, and that with a great deal of blushing. It seems that 
 yesterday Mr. Benson called when mother was here ; and after 
 sitting a few moments perfectly quiet, while she was engaged with 
 her sewing, he took a seat by her side, and taking a note from his 
 pocket-book, which she perceived at a glance was the one she had 
 written him before he went abroad, he said, " Miss Emily, (it was 
 always Miss Lenox before) will you tell me with your usual 
 frankness, if you have ever regretted more than the manner of 
 your decision on a former occasion ? " 
 
 With the thought of all the suffering caused by her want of 
 frankness, she replied nobly, though with downcast eyes, " I have 
 always regretted the decision, as well as the manner of it." She 
 says, she was really frightened at the effect her words had upon 
 him. For one instant he pressed her hand convulsively, and then 
 walked back and forth through the room. She thought, she had . 
 been too free and hasty in answering ; and a hundred other con 
 jectures came to her mind ; but she will not tell how they were 
 solved. She says, if I am so curious, I must apply to head quar 
 ters. But this she will say, that she is satisfied, and very happy. 
 
 " Well then," I said, " will you please to give me the extract 
 about Mr. Benson, which you cut out of aunt Morgan's paper ? 
 I suppose you have done with it." 
 
 Emily looked very rosy. " You deserve to be whipped, Cora," 
 she said, laughing to hide her vexation at my discovery. " You 
 must look out how you behave now, for I have a champion as 
 well as you."
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 " What is there in the vale of life 
 Half so delightful as a wife ; 
 When friendship, love and peace combine 
 To stamp the marriage bond divine? " 
 
 COWPEE. 
 
 Wednesday, November 4th. 
 
 EMILY was married this morning, and has gone to Waverley. 
 The cottage is closed, and mother will spend the winter with us. 
 Emily and I have had our first quarrel, on the question who shall 
 have mother. I think, however, though she will make visits to 
 Emily, that she will live here, because this has for so long a time 
 been her home. 
 
 Tuesday, November 10th. 
 
 Mrs. Benson and her husband have changed characters since 1 
 first introduced them to you. Emily is very frank and free with 
 her husband ; and does not hesitate to show him that she loves 
 him, while he is quite reserved, though exceedingly tender in his 
 attachment to her. She is perfectly satisfied that he has given 
 her his whole heart, and a very warm one. 
 
 Crcsar drove mother, Pauline, Nelly and myself over to th$ 
 parsonage this afternoon. I could hardly realize that we were 
 not at the cottage, everything looked so natural. Perhaps I did 
 not tell you that the furniture was removed from that place to
 
 274 CORA AND THE DOCTOK. 
 
 their new home; and sister has been very anxious to make it look 
 as much like the old one as possible. 
 
 Waverley people have very generously presented their pastor 
 with a handsome buggy, (he already owned a horse,) that he 
 might have no excuse for not bringing his wife when he comes to 
 see them. 
 
 There are nearly two acres of land belonging to the parsonage ; 
 and Mr. Benson has promised sister a fine flower-garden next 
 summer. 
 
 I must not forget to tell you the appropriate gifts they have 
 received from Mr. Karswell's family. Enclosed in a kind, 
 fatherly note from Mr. Ivarswell, Sen., was a bank-bill of one 
 hundred dollars to replenish Mr. Benson's library, with an addi 
 tion of fifty from the son for book-cases, pleasantly remarking, 
 that he had noticed there were none in the study. A large box 
 accompanied the note, with a handsome service of plate for the 
 young housekeeper. The latter was from the Misses Ivarswell.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 " Domestic happiness, thou only bliss 4 
 
 Of paradise, that hast survived the fall ! " 
 
 COVVTER. 
 
 Friday, August Qih, 1844. 
 
 SINCE the receipt of your last letter, I have had serious 
 thoughts of taking a trip to England. From what you say of 
 father's health, I fear he is failing fast, and my heart yearns to 
 see him once more. My dear husband sympathizes fully with me 
 in this desire, and were my own health confirmed, he would urge 
 me to go ; but since the birth of my little Frank, my health has 
 been very delicate, and he fears the voyage with the children 
 would be too much for me. He did once suggest my leaving 
 Pauline and Nelly, and taking only the baby with Ann. But I 
 was decided in refusing to leave them. Franky is now six 
 months old, and appears to be a very healthy child. I think, he 
 will resemble his father more than even our dear little Walter 
 did. Mother Lenox has now five grand-children, three of mine 
 and two little ones at the parsonage. The Doctor brought the 
 news of the arrival of the little stranger only two days ago. I 
 .sent Emily word this morning, that the baby must be named for 
 me. The eldest is Susy, or Susan, for mother. Mr. Benson is 
 very proud of his babies, and thoroughly appreciates the noble 
 c'ualities of his wife. He was quite pleased this morning with the 
 n;imc, I had proposed for the little one, but said, he always 
 accorded to Emily the privilege of naming her babies.
 
 276 COKA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 Mother lias been with sister since June, and will probably remain 
 until cold weather. Frank is not willing to have her away in 
 winter, as she has of late years been subject to a cough. I wish 
 sister Nelly could now see Pauline. The de/ir child is within an 
 inch or two of my own height, and was eleven years of age last 
 June. Never was a mother blessed with a more dutiful daughter. 
 She has a most delightful influence over her sister, and indeed in 
 her quiet way over the whole household. Phebe, (who has 
 become very " weighty," as she expresses it,) often quotes Miss 
 ^Pauline's remarks as testimony which no one would dare to 
 question. A few days since she went to the village on an errand 
 In company with Nelly, and on her return I saw her leading a 
 poor, ragged, dirty child, while the woman whom I supposed to 
 be the mother followed a few steps behind. 4 
 
 Leaving her little charge at the kitchen door, she flew up to 
 her room, and then into the nursery ; " mamma," said she in an 
 animated tone, " are you willing I should give my birth-day money 
 to a poor little girl who was crying in the street. She has no 
 clothes, and she is very poor. May I, mamma ? " 
 
 1 arose and went below to ascertain the cause of the poor 
 woman's poverty. Pauline followed, whispering, " Mamma, I 
 had much rather give my five dollars to her, than to buy the 
 work-box, because my old one is very good." I found the woman 
 was a Canadian, and belonged to a company of beggars, who go 
 about with a wagon, once every year or two, collecting clothes and 
 money, while they procure their daily food from house to house. 
 I directed Phebe to give them a comfortable meal, but was sorry 
 to be obliged to refuse my dear Pauline the luxury of clothing the 
 destitute child. I was so much touched by witnessing her tears 
 of disappointment, that I called her to her room, and selected a 
 calico dress, apron and shoes from her wardrobe and allowed her 
 to present them to the child. She hastily thrust her purse of 
 money into my hand, and ran below, where beckoning the poor 
 beggar into the shed, she soon transformed her into a neatly
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 277 
 
 dressed girl. I endeavored fo improve this opportunity to explain 
 to my daughter the necessity of discrimination between the really 
 necessitous, and impostors. It was very hard for her to believe 
 that any mother could be so depraved as to permit her child to 
 appear so ragged and dirty if she could possibly avoid it. 
 
 Saturday, August 16th. 
 
 During school hours this morning, the thought of the Canadian 
 girl so troubled Pauline, that I was obliged to give her the lesson 
 to review, as it was so imperfectly recited, which is a very 
 unusual event. She is generally very prompt in her recitations, 
 und already is a proficient in music, both vocal and instrumental, 
 for which she has a fine ear. I prophesy that she will by and by 
 far surpass her teacher. 
 
 This afternoon I was reading in the library, when she came 
 running in from her walk, in a state of great excitement. " Oh ! 
 mamma," said she, bursting into tears, " I have seen the little girl 
 again, and now I'm sure she has a bad mother, for her nice 
 olothes were taken off, and she wore the same dirty, ragged ones 
 as she did before. I don't think," she continued, " that the little 
 girl is wicked, because she hung down her head and was ashamed 
 to see me ; but her mother came out of a house with a large 
 Imndle under her arm, and pulled her angrily away." As I saw 
 this had made a great impression upon Pauline's mind, I deter 
 mined to say no more at the time, but take her with me more 
 frequently than I had done of late in my visits to the poor and 
 distressed. 
 
 Wednesday, August 21st. 
 
 The Doctor requested me this morning to prepare a basket of 
 food for one of his patients; and I determined to take Pauline 
 with me, and deliver it in person to the family. I knew nothing 
 of their circumstances, only their name, and a description of the 
 small house which they occupy. 
 
 Caesar readily found the place. Mrs. Fuller, the wife of the 
 24
 
 278 CORA AND THE DOCTOR ; 
 
 sick man, was washing out a few clothes in an open shed back of 
 the building, while two children, of about five and three years of 
 age, played in the dirt before the door. The eldest stopped her 
 play to gaze at the carriage as we drove up, and ran to call her 
 mother. We entered the dilapidated building, where a man lay 
 sick of a fever. He was moaning sadly when we entered, and 
 seemed hardly conscious ; but his wife assured us he was so, and 
 that he kept moaning and muttering something to himself all the 
 time. 
 
 From the wife's account I found that Mr. Fuller, at the time 
 she married him, was a mechanic in good business, and that they 
 lived comfortably for two or three years^though her husband did 
 not seem happy as at first. He gradually grew more and more 
 idle, neglected his business, and would sit moping in the house 
 from morning till night. 
 
 " Was he intemperate ? " I inquired. " None to speak of," she 
 replied. " He never took to drink." After conversing with her 
 for a short time at the door, I gave her the basket of provisions, 
 and asked her if she were at present in special need of anything. 
 She was very grateful, and said the Doctor had provided all that 
 was necessary, and I took my leave, promising if she would send 
 for it, to supply her with milk for the children. 
 
 Friday, August 30th. 
 
 The Doctor says Mr. Fuller is much worse, and that he has 
 something upon his mind which troubles him. He is not at all 
 inclined to answer questions, but to-day when Frank went silently 
 in, and bent over him, thinking him to be sleeping, the poor fellow- 
 said, " that 's all I remember, there 's no hurt in that, and if there 
 is, I 'm not answerable, 'twas nothing to me." 
 
 Frank put his fingers upon the pulse, when the sick man 
 turned upon him with a terrible oath, and said wildly, " What did 
 you hear ? I said nothing. You can't take me -up for that." 
 
 Prank soothed him by saying he had heard nothing of conse-
 
 OK, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 279 
 
 quence, and feeling much interested for the sufferer, who appeared 
 struggling with remorse of conscience for some crime, he sat long 
 by him, endeavoring to point him to the Saviour, who can deliver 
 from all sin. 
 
 Mr. Fuller listened as if for his life, and muttered two or three 
 times, "If I could only believe it! If 1 could but think so!!" 
 The Doctor prayed with him before he left. When he called 
 Mrs. Fuller to the door, and related to her what he had heard, 
 she burst into tears, and told him that for years past, he had at 
 times said over and over the same words, to wiiich she could 
 attach no meaning ; but she clasped her hands in agony, " Oh, 
 dear, she said, " I am afraid he has been guilty of some dreadful 
 crime, and that 's what harrows him up so ! " 
 
 " The cause is conscience ; Conscience oft 
 
 Her tale of guilt renews ! 
 Her voice is terrible, though soft, 
 And dread of death ensues."
 
 CHAPTEE XXX. 
 
 " For God unfolds, by slow degrees, 
 The purport of his deep decrees : 
 Sheds every hour a clearer light 
 In aid of our defective sight ; 
 And spreads, at length, before the soul 
 A beautiful and perfect whole, 
 Which busy man's inventive brain 
 Toils to anticipate in vain." COWPER. 
 
 Wednesday, September 4:th. 
 
 How true is the old adage, " Murder will out." It has cer 
 tainly been verified in our village. But I will not anticipate. It 
 was hardly light this morning, when the Doctor was summoned 
 from bed to Mr. Fuller, who was dying, and had been calling for 
 Dr. Lenox all night. At length, he became very urgent, and 
 said, he could not die in peace till he had confessed the great 
 sin that troubled his conscience. I waited with no little im 
 patience for Frank's return ; but nine o'clock came and there 
 had only been a messenger for Caesar to drive the buggy to the 
 office. 
 
 It was long past the usual dinner hour when Frank returned. 
 When he did so, I saw that something very unusual had taken 
 place, for he hardly spoke, but frequently ceased eating, though he 
 had taken no breakfast, and sat resting his head upon his hand. 
 
 Leaving the dining-room hurriedly, he said, " Cora, will you 
 come to me in the library as soon as possible." I left Pauline
 
 REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S "WIFE. 281 
 
 with the little ones in the nursery, and followed him directly. 
 He silently beckoned me to a seat near him, when he related as 
 follows the scenes of the morning. 
 
 " Cora, do you remember the account I gave you years ago, of 
 the setting up of the will of Joseph Lee, before the Probate 
 'Court?" 
 
 Perfectly," I replied. 
 
 " Well, Fuller, who died this morning, was a witness, who testi 
 fied that the business transacted by the lawyer, was merely a deed 
 of gift to a poor widow. By his dying confession, however, he 
 has unfolded a horrid plot of villany. Squire Lee at that very 
 time made a second will, which no doubt was in Lucy's favor. 
 He did indeed convey away the cottage at the same interview ; 
 but that was only a secondary part of the business." I sprang to 
 my feet, and clapped my hands in an ecstasy. 
 
 " But what possible motive could he have had for perjuring 
 himself? " I asked eagerly. 
 
 " He was hired to do so by the lawyer. I immediately sent a 
 neighbor who was watching with my patient to a magistrate, and 
 he took down the poor man's confession, together with many cir- 
 cumcumstances relating to the subject which will throw light on 
 the villany. A writ was at once made out and served upon Joseph 
 Lee and Oscar Colby, for conspiracy, and before nine o'clock, they 
 were before the justice, by whom they were committed to jail to 
 await their trial at the next term of the Criminal Court." 
 
 When the sheriff went to arrest them, Joseph was sleeping off 
 the effects of his intoxication ; and when dragged from his bed, 
 and made to understand that he was arrested, he swore and raved 
 so shockingly, that the sheriff told him, he would put him in irons 
 if he was not quiet. Mr. Colby was different ; he looked ghastly 
 pale, while his eyes rolled from side to side; but he made no 
 resistance. 
 
 Poor Lucy ! Little reason as she has to love her brother, this 
 will be a terrible blow to her affectionate heart. Although Joseph 
 
 24*
 
 282 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 has been living at the Hall since last spring, yet he has never 
 taken the least notice of her or her family, and even seems to have 
 forgotten that he has a sister. The dear girl thought all her 
 trials were over, she has been so contented and happy with her 
 little family. She has a beautiful pair of twin boys. Emily is 
 six years old. Frank says, it was a painful duty to inform her of 
 the arrest of her brother, which he did this morning. 
 
 He was very much affected by her first words after he had told 
 her of Mr. Fuller's confession. "Then my dear father did 
 remember me ; " and she burst into tears. 
 
 Thursday, September 5th. 
 
 Allen Mansfield called here this morning to consult with, the 
 Doctor, after having in vain sought him at the office. Nothing 
 for years has caused such an excitement in the town ; and 
 corroborative testimony is constantly related by one and another, 
 as to the certainty of a will. But where is it ? That it was 
 destroyed at the time is the current opinion. The vile character 
 of the prisoners the virtue of young Mansfield's family the 
 probable result of the trial the length of imprisonment for such 
 crimes the motives which influenced Mr. Colby to such an act, 
 are the universal themes of conversation. 
 
 Groups of men stand in the streets discussing the latest intel 
 ligence of the affair, while Lucy and her husband from being 
 among the most quiet citizens of the place have been suddenly 
 transformed into the lions of the day. Their every word and look 
 is eagerly repeated from one to another. One benefit has already 
 resulted from all this. Public attention and sympathy have been 
 turned to the family of widow Fuller, and she has help flowing in 
 from all quarters. In return, she has only to repeat some two or 
 three dozen times a day the sad confession of her husband's crime. 
 " I had it from the lips of the widow," is enough to draw a crowd 
 of listeners eager for something to fan their already over-excited 
 imaginations.
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 283 
 
 Even the Doctor is not without his share of attention, from 
 being the one to whom the confession was originally made, and 
 from being a particular friend of the Mansfields. 
 
 vft 
 
 Monday, September Qth. 
 
 The excitement in town is constantly on the increase. Poor 
 Lucy is almost as much a prisoner as her brother. She was rid 
 ing out with her children a day or two since, when some one 
 shouted, " there goes Mrs. Mansfield, sister to the prisoner," and 
 a whole posse of boys ran shouting after the carriage. Such 
 notoriety is by no means pleasing to her, and she is determined to 
 avoid it in future. Mr. Willard, the District Attorney, who will 
 manage the case for Allen, in behalf of the government, has 
 grown very fast in public esteem for a few years, and is considered 
 an uncommonly shrewd lawyer and an excellent advocate. Re 
 port says that Joseph has secured the services of an able and far 
 famed lawyer from the city, and means to spare no expense to 
 procure his acquittal at the coming trial, which does not take place 
 until the fore-part of November. Mr. Willard, being on the spot, 
 lias every advantage of circumstantial testimony. He has already 
 obtained a warrant to search the premises, and in company with 
 ;i man appointed keeper by the sheriff, who served a writ attach 
 ing the whole for damages in behalf of Allen, went from room 
 to room, examining every private drawer, desk, shelf, or crevice 
 where such a document could be secreted. But it was all in vain ; 
 yet a more thorough search will be made to-morrow. 
 
 Joseph is in ashocking condition, caused by the involuntary and 
 ?udden cessation of his excess in drinking. His eyes seem ready 
 to start from their sockets ; and he is so violent in -his demands 
 for brandy, and so furious because he cannot obtain it that the 
 jailor has been obliged to put him in irons. Mr. Colby is in a 
 dreadful state of nervous excitement, and walks from morning till 
 night back and forth in the small cell where he is confined. Upon 
 one or two occasions, when Mr. Willard, in company with a
 
 284 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 sheriff, visited him, he would not deign a reply to any question 
 they put to him. 
 
 Tuesday, September 10th. 
 
 Nothing whatever was found reflecting light upon this dark 
 plot, on the most rigid examination of the whole premises. While 
 Allen was there, a messenger came from the jailer to the sheriff 
 for some clothes for Mr. Colby, who complained of the dampness 
 of his cell. 
 
 The sheriff proceeded to the room which had been occupied by 
 him, where various articles of apparel were thrown upon the 
 chairs and around the room just as he left them the night pi'evious 
 to his arrest. Having fully examined a dressing gown and cloak, 
 and ascertained that nothing was concealed in them, he gave them 
 to the messenger. 
 
 Friday, September 20(h. 
 
 Nothing of importance has transpired to throw light upon the 
 all-engrossing topic. A slight suspicion was awakened in the 
 mind of Mr. Willard by the increasing demand for clothes by 
 Mr. Colby, and Hon. Mr. Mai'ohall, the Attorney General, spe 
 cially retained, gave orders that no more be sent him. Upon a 
 re-examinatioa of every article of apparel in his room and ward 
 robe at the Hall, he has found nothing to justify such a suspicion. 
 
 But he is ever on the alert, and determined, if possible, to 
 ferret out all the iniquitous proceedings. The daily papers are 
 full of the most exaggerated accounts of these transactions, report 
 of which has spread the excitement through the country. 
 
 Persons may be seen at all hours of the day walking past Lee 
 Hall, wondering what room the prisoners occupied before their 
 arrest, where the keeper remains, and making inquiries on these 
 and a thousand other points of those of the neighbors and inhabi 
 tants whom they happen to meet. 
 
 Tuesday, November 5th. 
 
 Half past seven o'clock, A. M. The all-important day has at
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 285 
 
 length arrived. Even at this early hour carriage after carriage 
 from the adjoining towns rolls by toward the court House. Men 
 and women are seen hurrying in the same direction, all eager to 
 gain admission to the court room. For many years, no case has 
 excited such deep and universal interest. The vast estate 
 involved the great respect for the family of Mr. Mansfield 
 the daring plot of Joseph and Colby the horrible cruelty of tho 
 former toward his sister, driving her from the home of her child 
 hood, have raised the excitement to the highest pitch. My hand 
 trembles, and my heart goes "pit-a-pat" as J think of being 
 present at the trial. The Doctor has kindly procured a permit 
 for me to be there as a companion of Lucy, whose heart, poor 
 girl, is- ready to faint within her. I shall endeavor to take notes 
 that I may give you and father an account of an American trial. 
 
 Thursday, November 7th. 
 
 On Tuesday morning, at half past eight, the Doctor came for 
 me to go to the court. My hands were numb from excitement, 
 and for a moment I felt inclined to remain at home ; but summon 
 ing all my resolution, 1 stepped into the carriage, when Caesar 
 drove to Mr. Mansfield's, took in Lucy, who looked more as if she 
 were to be tried as a criminal, than as if she were about to inherit 
 an estate worth a million of dollars. 
 
 When the Doctor assisted us from the carriage, and I witnessed 
 the immense crowd standing around the ponderous doors of the 
 court-room, my limbs trembled beneath me, and I clung convul 
 sively to my husband's arm. 
 
 All filled, up two hours ago ! " " No room ! " " You can't 
 get in ! " were shouted by men and boys on every side. Even the 
 constables standing with a pole at the foot of the stairs told us, we 
 could not proceed. But the Doctor paid no sort of heed to all 
 this. With the air and bearing of a Lenox, he walked majestically 
 on, merely bowing to the officer and pronouncing the word wit 
 ness ; " when he stood one side to allow us to pass and to get
 
 286 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 through the crowd as best we could. I can hardly tell you how 
 we were able to make our way up the stone steps to the room 
 above. Sometimes the Doctor was recognized. At others, Lucy's 
 pale face caused the eager crowd to stand yet a little closer and to 
 allow us to press along. 
 
 At the inner door, near the head of the stairs, stood a sheriff, 
 who on recognizing the Doctor opened the door, and we stood 
 within the room. Another deputy sheriff came forward and gave 
 us a seat with the witnesses. Here my husband pointed out to 
 me the seats of the judge, and the jury, the boxes for the crimi 
 nals and the other parts of this temple of justice. 
 
 I will describe them to you. The Court-room is large; I 
 should judge, about fifty feet by sixty. On one end of the Hall 
 is a raised platform called the bench, and occupied by the Judges, 
 with private entrances on each side for the convenience of the 
 court. In front of the bench and on an elevation about half as 
 high, is a space enclosed with a railing within which are tables for 
 the Clerk, District Attorney and Attorney General. Before this 
 railing is a table for the reporters, at which are seated a goodly 
 number with pen in hand, eager to catch every word of this 
 terrible trial, and to send the report thereof by the dailies and by 
 bulletins all over the country. 
 
 Running along on each side of the room are three banks of 
 seats, resembling long slips or pews, and occupied by the witnesses 
 and jury. A walk or aisle runs along at the foot of these seats. 
 The large open area in front of the reporters and of this aisle, 
 is circled with a railing within which are seats and small desks 
 for members of the bar. Just beyond the railing and opposite to 
 .the Judge are boxes for the criminals with sharp iron pickets on 
 the top. All the rest of the unoccupied space was crowded on 
 this occasion with a dense mass of spectators, some of whom had 
 been standing ever since the opening of the Court-room. 
 Over the end of the Hall was a gallery densely crowded. 
 One by one, the Jurors, Clerk, Lawyers, District Attorney,
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE., 287 
 
 Attorney General and Judge entered and took their seats. As 
 the large clock in the room struck nine, officers appeared leading 
 in the prisoners. 
 
 I was obliged to put my arm around my distressed friend. She 
 looked ready to faint; but holding strong volatile salts to her 
 nose, she endeavored to control her feelings. Frank and myself 
 regretted extremely that the Attorney General thought it necessary 
 to summon her as a witness. 
 
 The court opened. The Clerk read the Docket, from which it 
 appeared that the Grand Jury had found three bills against the 
 prisoners at the bar; for conspiracy in obtaining property under 
 false pretences for wilful perjury and for fraud. 
 
 On motion of the Attorney General, it was ordered that they 
 should be tried upon the first of these, as it related to the primary, 
 and principal crime. The Clerk called upon the prisoners to 
 arise and attend to the indictment on which they were arraigned. 
 
 " COMMONWEALTH OF MASSACHUSETTS. 
 
 " County of- . At the Court of Common Pleas, begun and 
 
 holden in Crawford, within the County of , on the first 
 
 Monday, being the fourth day of November, in the year of 
 our Lord one thousand eight hundred and forty-four. 
 
 " The Grand Jurors for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, 
 upon their oath present that Joseph Lee, and Oscar Colby, gentle 
 men, of the town of Crawford, in the county of , not having 
 
 the fear of God before their eyes, and being moved by an evil 
 heart, and seduced by the instigations of the devil, on or about 
 the first day of November, in the year of our Lord one thousand 
 eight hundred and thirty-seven, in the town, county and common 
 wealth aforesaid, did wilfully and maliciously conspire together to 
 secrete or destroy the last will and testament of one Joseph Lee 
 deceased, of said town, county and commonwealth aforesaid. And 
 did thereby feloniously and wilfully arrest the course of justice in 
 the settlement of the estate of the deceased Joseph Lee, by
 
 288 CORA AND THE DOCTOR ; 
 
 setting up, and subsequently executing as his last will and testa 
 ment, a will prior to his last, and thereby defrauding his legal heir 
 or heirs, and so the Jurors upon their oath aforesaid do say that 
 the said Joseph Lee, and Oscar Colby then and there, in the 
 manner aforesaid, did commit the crime of conspiracy as afore 
 said, against the peace of the Commonwealth aforesaid, and the 
 laws in such cases made and provided. 
 
 A trite bill. 
 
 James Frothingham, Foreman. 
 
 John Marshall, Attorney General. 
 
 To this indictment the prisoners plead " not guilty" The Clerk 
 then proceeded to impanel the jury. 
 
 Moses Willard, District Attorney, appeared and took his seat. 
 The counsellors for the defendants were Edgar Burke, and 
 Sylvanus Curtiss. 
 
 Clerk of the Court. " Gentlemen of the Jury, hearken to the 
 indictment found against Joseph Lee. and Oscar Colby." 
 
 Plere the Clerk read the indictment to the Jury, when he con 
 tinued : " To this . indictment, the defendants have plead not 
 guilty, and have put themselves on the country, which country 
 you are, and you are now sworn to try the issue. 
 
 District Attorney. "You perceive, Gentlemen of the Jury, by 
 the indictment, that has been read to you that Joseph Lee and Oscar 
 Colby are charged by the Grand Jury of the body of this county 
 with conspiracy to defraud, a crime punishable with the severest 
 penalties of the law, and alleged by the indictment to have been 
 committed by them feloniously, wilfully and maliciously. I need 
 not portray to you the sad consequences which have already 
 resulted from this villany. 
 
 " We intend to prove that the prisoners at the bar did at the 
 time and place specified in the indictment, conspire together to 
 destroy the last will and testament of one Joseph Lee deceased, 
 and to set up as his last will and testament, a will prior to his last, 
 and did thereby deprive his dutiful daughter of her patrimony,
 
 OK, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 289 
 
 a daughter who had for years administered to her sick father's 
 necessities, smoothing by her affectionate care his passage to the 
 grave ; and that they drove her from the home of her childhood 
 and youth on the very eve of her deceased father's burial, render 
 ing her houseless, and shelterless, but for the protecting arm of 
 her newly wedded companion. 
 
 " We intend to prove the sad consequences of this crime to the 
 prisoners themselves." 
 
 Mr. Curtiss. " Your Honor, 1 must object to this appeal to 
 personal sympathy, and personal prejudice." 
 
 District Attorney. " Your Honor, I beg not to be interrupted. 
 I was only stating what the prosecution intend to prove. I was 
 specifying the consequences of crime to the prisoners at the bar ; 
 but I forbear. The bloated face, and blood-shot eyes of the one, 
 and the ghastly pallor of the other, speak far more than any words 
 I could utter. 
 
 " Gentlemen of the Jury, I have no need to caution you against 
 participating in the popular indignation at this crime, or not to 
 fear the consequences of a faithful discharge of your whole duty. 
 Your oath requires you to decide the question of the guilt or 
 innocence of the prisoners according to law and evidence. 
 
 " The indictment charges them with Conspiracy. But, gentle 
 men, I will not detain you farther, except to cite authorities 
 respecting the nature of this crime, the laws and penalties pertain 
 ing thereunto, and also to remark on the confidence to be placed in 
 the confession of a dying man, which will soon be submitted to you." 
 
 He then proceeded to read from Eoscoe on Criminal evidence, 
 Chitty's Criminal Law, Archbold, etc., etc. After which, he 
 concluded by saying, " This charge we expect to prove by the 
 confession of Hugh Fuller on his death bed, where we naturally 
 expect the utmost sincerity, and Avhere there could be no 
 motive for self-accusation, and a confession of that which must 
 forever tarnish the fair fame of the confessor, no motive falsely 
 to criminate his fellow men. His testimony is entitled to the 
 
 25 

 
 290 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 highest consideration, supported as it will be by an array of cir 
 cumstantial evidence, amounting almost to a moral demonstration/' 
 He then called George Wilson, Justice of the peace, who after 
 being sworn read the Affidavit, as he took it from the lips of the 
 dying man. 
 
 AFFIDAVIT. 
 
 " COMMONWEALTH OF MASSACHUSETTS. 
 
 " County of ss. Hugh Fuller of Crawford, in said county, 
 
 yeoman, personally before me, and lying upon his death-bed, on 
 oath declared that he affixed his name as witness to the last will 
 and testament of the late Joseph Lee of said town and county, 
 then lying on his death-bed, on the twenty-third of October, one 
 thousand eight hundred and thirty-seven. And also at the same 
 time and place affixed his signature to a deed by the said Joseph 
 Lee, conveying property from him to widow Churchill. 
 
 "And the deponent farther declares, that the other witnesses of 
 these documents were Oscar Colby, and Edward Stone. 
 
 " The deponent also solemnly declares that the papers were 
 then delivered by said Joseph Lee to said Oscar Colby with 
 instructions that the first document should be retained by him, 
 Oscar Colby, until after the testator's decease, and that the second 
 should be immediately conveyed by said Colby to the aforesaid 
 Widow Churchill. 
 
 " The deponent still farther declares that the said Oscar Colby 
 enjoined upon him and Edward Stone, now deceased, profound 
 secrecy in respect to the first of these transactions; and that 
 immediately upon the death of the late Joseph Lee, the said Colby 
 came to him renewing the injunction with a proffer of money, as 
 reward for so doing ; and that both he and Joseph Lee, son of 
 the deceased Joseph Lee, subsequently came to him to instruct 
 him how to appear, and what to say, if cited before the Probate 
 Court ; and at the same time paid him certain sums of money in 
 consideration of his maintaining such secrecy. 
 
 "And the deponent also declares that his abetting of this crime
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 291 
 
 has ever since lain heavily upon his conscience, and has at times 
 harrowed his soul with the most dreadful remorse ; and that he 
 cannot die in peace until he has made a frank, and full confession 
 of this sin, and implored forgiveness of God, and his fellow men ; 
 more particularly of those whom he has thus injured. 
 
 "All this, the deponent declares to be true in the presence of 
 that God before whom he expects in a few moments to appear ; 
 and the same was subscribed and sworn to on this fourth day of 
 September, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred 
 and forty-four. 
 , [ HUGH FULLER. 
 
 " Before me, George Wilson, Justice of the peace. 
 
 In the presence of 1 
 
 Frank Lenox, 
 
 Martha Fuller, ^ Witnesses. 
 
 Phebe Andrews, 
 
 Benjamin Hardy, J 
 
 Crawford, September th, 1844." 
 
 In corroboration of- this testimony, the following witnesses were 
 called and sworn : 
 
 Frank Lenox, Allen Mansfield, Lucy Lee Mansfield, Susan 
 Burns, Jacob Strong, who bore testimony similar to that given by 
 them before the Probate Court, and showing the oft declared in 
 tention of the late Joseph Lee to revoke his first will, and to make 
 a second. 
 
 They also testified that up to the time of the alleged crime, the 
 prisoners were comparative strangers, and that from that period, 
 they had been leagued together in the closest alliance ; first in the 
 house of the late Joseph Lee immediately after his funeral, then 
 in the execution of the will, and subsequently in a voyage to 
 Europe, from which they lately returned together after an absence 
 of some years ; and finally that they were together up to the time 
 of their arrest. 
 
 To reveal the nature of their intercourse when together, Jacob 
 Strong, steward of the late Joseph Lee, testified, that on the 

 
 292 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 evening after the funeral of his master, his son Joseph, and 
 Lawyer Colby were together in the back parlor of his master's 
 residence, where they called for wines, brandy and cigars, and 
 where they spent most of the night in drunkenness. 
 
 And he farther testified that at sundry times during the suc 
 ceeding month, he had been often awaked at late hours of the 
 night, by their midnight carousals ; and alarmed by their abuse 
 of each other. And that he had often interposed to separate and 
 quiet them. 
 
 Here the prosecution closed the presentation of the case in be 
 half of the government, reserving the right to introduce rebutting 
 testimony. 
 
 It being past twelve o'clock, the court adjourned till two P. M. 
 
 Two o'clock, P. M. Tuesday afternoon. The Court met pur 
 suant to adjournment. 
 
 The defence opened. Mr. Curtiss arose. " May it please your 
 Honor, and you, Gentlemen of the Jury, I arise under no small 
 embarrassment to plead the cause of my clients in this important 
 trial, an embarrassment which arises from the overwhelming 
 tide of public indignation, which in its mighty current, and 
 irresistible force threatens to carry away every barrier of public 
 justice, and public safety. 
 
 " Upon the alleged confession of Hugh Fuller this tide deluged 
 the surrounding country, as when the dam of a great river is 
 carried away, and the pent up waters are let loose, bearing down 
 all before them. 
 
 " We, Witnesses, Counsellors, and Jurors are in no small danger 
 of being carried away as float-wood whither the mighty torrent 
 shall bear us. 
 
 " I cannot resist the conviction that the District Attorney, by 
 his quick sympathies, has so far participated in this popular feel 
 ing, that he has not in this case sustained his deservedly high 
 reputation for equity, and impartiality. My great esteem for him
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OP A PHYSICIAN'S -WIFE. 293 
 
 as an ad?ocate led me to expect that he would devote to this ex 
 citing trial, his characteristic calmness, and discrimination, that he 
 would carefully weigh the evidence, and avoid all appeals to 
 passion or prejudice. Judge then of my surprise that in the very 
 beginning of his speech, he should appeal to your sympathy in 
 behalf of the daughter of the late Joseph Lee. 
 
 " Gentlemen of the Jury, you are here for the exercise, not of 
 sympathy, but of justice. And my astonishment was increased 
 by his attempt to awaken your prejudices against my clients, by 
 reference to any peculiarities in their personal appearance. "What 
 honest citizen ; nay, what one of you could be suddenly dragged 
 from your bed at night, and committed to prison on such a charge ; 
 be brought from your cell handcuffed and strongly guarded, and 
 here locked up in the felon's box in the presence of so large and 
 respectable an assembly of your fellow citizens without some 
 emotion blanching your countenance, or flushing it with indigna 
 tion. 
 
 " But my astonishment reached its highest pitch, when having 
 waited hour after hour in painful expectation of that circumstantial 
 testimony, which was to amount to " a moral demonstration " of 
 my clients' guilt, and waiving in apprehension of it my right to 
 cross examine his witnesses, I heard him acknowledge to the 
 court that the evidence for the prosecution was in, and the case 
 was submitted to the defence. 
 
 " His citations from legal authors, and his exposition of the 
 laws pertaining to the crime for which my clients are arraigned 
 meet my most cordial approbation, and supersede the necessity of 
 any additional comments on the part of the defence. Of the 
 three crimes charged in these indictments, the two latter are 
 subordinate to, and dependent on the first. If there was no 
 conspiracy, there surely could have been no wilful perjury, no 
 suborning of witnesses in pursuance of that conspiracy. 
 
 " Setting aside the confession, what proof has been adduced to 
 support the charge of conspiracy ? None that would justify any 
 
 25*
 
 294 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 honest citizen in cherishing a suspicion of his neighbor ; none 
 that would not blast the fairest character as with the breath of 
 calumny. Your verdict, if you find my clients guilty, must 
 depend almost entirely upon the credibility of a deceased witness, 
 upon the affidavit of Hugh Fuller. 
 
 " The authorities already submitted to you by my legal friend, 
 teach you that the testimony of a dying man should be received, 
 if at all, with great caution. At best it is only hearsay evidence, 
 and this is almost the only form of that species of testimony which 
 is admissible at the bar. Before you attach to it any importance, 
 you are bound to know that the witness at the date of the affida 
 vit was in a sound mind, free from intellectual aberrations, and 
 from bias of judgment. 
 
 " Has the prosecution relieved your minds from all doubt on 
 these points ? Nay, gentlemen. It has submitted no substantial 
 proof of even the sanity of that witness. I am now prepared to 
 prove by testimony clear and abundant that this affidavit contains 
 nothing more than the hallucination of an insane man. This 
 being established, I shall submit the case, after the argument of 
 my associate, for your decision." 
 
 During the speech of Mr. Curtiss, the vast audience hung in 
 breathless silence upon his lips ; and when he resumed his seat, 
 it was very evident that the tide of public feeling had begun to 
 turn. 
 
 The prisoners, inspired with hope, rose from their seats, and 
 stood leaning over the pickets of their boxes. Such was the 
 eagerness to catch every word that the sheriff was obliged several 
 times to rap with his pole and call " order ! ORDER ! ! " 
 
 The witnesses for the defence were next called, and sworn, and 
 examined. First, Frank Lenox. 
 
 Mr. Curtiss. " What is your profession ? " 
 
 " I am a physician." 
 
 " How long have you been in practice ? " 
 
 " About thirteen years."
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OP A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 295 
 
 u Was Hugh Fuller your patient ? " 
 
 He was." 
 
 " What was his disease ? " 
 
 Typhoid fever." 
 
 " Have you been familiar with that fever in your practice ? " 
 
 " I have had many cases every year." 
 
 " How have you commonly found the reason affected by this 
 disease ? " 
 
 " The mind is frequently subject to aberration, but more fre 
 quently in the typhus, than in the typhoid fever." 
 
 " Had you any reason to think the mind of Mr. Fuller was thus 
 affected by his disease ? " 
 
 "At times his language was strange, and his thoughts incoherent. 
 But he was more free from aberration than patients generally in 
 that fever." 
 
 u How near the date of his alleged confession, do you remember 
 to have witnessed any such wanderings ? " 
 
 "I think his mind was rather wandering on the previous 
 morning." 
 
 Mr. Burke. " Had you given him medicine from which un 
 natural excitement could result ? " 
 
 I had not." 
 
 Cross examination by Mr. Willard.' 
 
 " Did you consider him of sound mind and memory on the night 
 of his confession ? " 
 
 " How did he appear after the confession ? " 
 
 " Very much relieved. calm and peaceful." 
 
 "Are you confident that his mental aberrations resulted from his 
 disease ? " 
 
 " I considered them in a great measure the result of a troubled 
 conscience." 
 
 Mr. Curtiss sprang to his feet, and said, " May it please your 
 Honor, I must object to that question. It calls forth a reply not
 
 296 CORA. AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 legitimate to the profession of the witness. Cases of conscience 
 belong to the Clergy." 
 
 Judge. " The witness will proceed, confining himself to facts 
 pertaining to the case." 
 
 Mr. Marshall, the Attorney General, asked, " was there any 
 particular subject on which his mind seemed to be dwelling in 
 what you supposed mental aberrations ? 
 
 Mr. Burke arose under considerable excitement. "Your 
 Honor, I must protest against the introduction of testimony going 
 to show the subject of a crazy man's thoughts." 
 
 Mr. Marshall stood waiting to reply. " Your Honor will con 
 sider the special importance of this testimony as showing the state 
 of the confessor's mind, and the subject which principally occupied 
 his thoughts." 
 
 After a prolonged discussion of the admissibility of this testi 
 mony by the learned counsellors, the Judge decided the question 
 in order, and directed the witness to proceed. 
 
 " He often repeated the words, ( that 's all I remember ; they 
 can't take me up for that. And if they do, I 'm not answerable ; 
 they that hired me will have to bear the blame,' and so much more 
 of the same general import that I was led to suspect," 
 
 " Your Honor," exclaimed both the lawyers for the defence. 
 The Junior waived, however, in favor of the Senior. " I hope 
 your Honor will remind the witness that he is here not to relate 
 suspicions, but facts." 
 
 Judge. " The witness may proceed and restrict himself to facts, 
 or to such professional opinions, as are material to the case. He 
 is to give his honest views frankly and fully." 
 
 " I was saying that I suspected, he was laboring under remorse 
 of conscience, and I urged him, if such were the fact, to seek 
 relief by confession." 
 
 Mr. Willard. " What was the date of this conversation ? " 
 
 "At several different times. The one to which I particularly 
 referred, took place two days before his death."
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 297 
 
 Dr. Clapp, partner of Dr. Lenox, was called, whose testimony 
 corroborated that of the preceding witness. 
 Mrs. Martha Fuller was next called. 
 Mr. Curtiss. " What was your relation to Hugh Fuller ? " 
 His wife." 
 
 " Did you discover anything during your husband's sickness 
 which led you to think him insane ? " 
 " I did." 
 
 " At what part of it more particularly ? " 
 " The latter part." 
 
 " What did he say that led you to infer that he was crazy ? " 
 " Sometimes he did not know me, called me by another name, 
 talked wildly, and was frequently wandering in his sleep." 
 
 " How near the time of this alleged confession did you notice 
 any signs of insanity ? " 
 " On the night and day preceding his death." 
 Cross examination by Mr. Willard. 
 " Did you hear your husband's confession ? " 
 I did." 
 
 " Did you consider him crazy at that time ? " 
 Hesitating. " I did not." 
 
 " What reasons had you for not considering him so ? " 
 " He called us all by name, and talked rationally about other 
 things, and gave me directions about the children." 
 
 " Had he frequently talked with you in this way during his 
 sickness ? " 
 He had not." 
 
 " But during his sickness, had there not been days, or longer 
 seasons, when he appeared rational ? " 
 " There were." 
 
 " You have said he was often wild and wandering. Do you 
 mean he was so most of the time, or only now and then ? " 
 " Only now and then." 
 
 " Had he ever appeared so before this sickness ? " 
 Witness bursts into tears. 

 
 298 CORA AND THE DOCTOR. 
 
 I 
 
 Mr. Curtiss. "Your Honor, I claim the protection of the 
 Court in behalf of this witness." 
 
 Mr. Marshall. u Your Honor, we have no disposition to impose 
 upon the witness, who certainly has our tenderest sympathy in 
 these trying circumstances. But the question of my worthy col 
 league was designed to elicit from the witness, the fact whether or 
 not her lamented husband previous to his last sickness, had ever 
 exhibited signs of insanity ? " 
 
 Mr. Burke. " Your Honor, I object to the question as irrele 
 vant." 
 
 Judge. " The question is pertinent and the witness will answer 
 according to her best recollections." 
 
 Witness. " I cannot say that he did." 
 
 Mr. Wittard. " Did he ever appear depressed in spirits ? " 
 
 He did." 
 
 " Can you recollect what he used to say at such times ? " 
 
 She weeps. 
 
 u Take your time, my good woman." The sheriff at a motion 
 from Mr. Willard brings her a chair. " Try to recollect what he 
 said at such times." 
 
 " He used to fear we should come to poverty and disgrace." 
 
 " Did he ever explain the ground of those fears ? " 
 
 " Pie did not, when awake." 
 
 " What do you mean to imply by that ? " 
 
 " He sometimes talked about it in his sleep ; but I could n't 
 always make out what he said." 
 
 " Did the drift of his conversation at such times correspond 
 with that when he was wild and wandering during his sickness ? " 
 
 " I think it did." 
 
 The Court was then adjourned until nine o'clock the next 
 rooming.
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 "As lawyers o'er a doubt 
 Which, puzzling long, at last, they puzzle out." COWPER. 
 
 Wednesday, November 6th. 
 
 Nine o'clock. The Court met pursuant to adjournment. The 
 excitement has much increased. The court-room is crowded to 
 its utmost capacity, and the most intense interest manifested as to 
 ihe decision. 
 
 Mr. Andrews was called and sworn. 
 
 Mr. Curtiss. " Did you frequently see Hugh Fuller during 
 liis sickness ? " 
 
 " I watched with him twice." 
 
 " Have you often watched with persons in this fever ? " 
 I have." 
 
 " How were their minds affected ? " 
 " They were generally deranged." 
 
 " Did you witness any appearance of insanity in Mr. Fuller ? " 
 Idid." 
 
 " How was it manifested ? " 
 
 " He once imagined I was his mother, and that I was instruct 
 ing him. Another time he thought he was building a house, and 
 called out to his workmen about the work." 
 
 Before the cross examination, I noticed Mr. Willard speaking 
 in a low voice to Mr. Marshall, when he took his hat and retired 
 from the court-room. 
 
 Mr. Marshall. " Do you mean to convey the idea that Mr.
 
 300 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 Fuller was not rational during any part of the nights that you 
 watched with him ? " 
 
 " By no means, sir. I mean that he was a little out of his 
 head." 
 
 " Did he recognize you ? " 
 
 " He did, and often called me by name, and told me what 
 medicine he was to take." 
 
 " When he thought you were his mother, what did he say ? " 
 
 " He said he remembered my instructing him to tell the truth, 
 and how much happier he should have been if he had regarded 
 my instructions." 
 
 Mrs. Andrews was called. 
 
 Mr. Curtiss. " Did you see Mr. Fuller during his sickness ? " 
 
 '' I watched with him the night before he died." 
 
 " How did he appear at that time ? " 
 
 " The first part of the night, he took me to be his wife, and 
 talked with me about the children." 
 
 " Relate all you remember of his wanderings." 
 
 " He was very much excited and wanted to get out of bed and 
 go to see Dr. Lenox Said he must go, and we had great diffi 
 culty in pacifying him." 
 
 Cross examination. 
 
 Mr. Marshall. " Do you remember what he said to you about 
 the children ? " 
 
 " He charged me never to let the girls marry a man who had 
 perjured himself." 
 
 This reply produced great sensation, and the sheriff again 
 thundered "order ! ORDER ! ! " 
 
 " Did he appear more calm toward morning ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ! He grew more and more excited until we promised 
 to send for the Doctor." 
 
 " Did that wholly pacify him ? " 
 
 " He seemed so relieved and rational that I staid alone with 
 him while Mr. Hardy went for the Doctor, and he hardly spoke 
 during his absence."
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 301 
 
 ' ; How did he appear during that time ? " 
 
 " He lay with his eyes closed, and once I thought I heard the 
 words, ' Oh, God ! Oh, Jesus, forgive me ! " 
 
 Mr. Curtiss called Mr. Hardy. " Did you discover any signs 
 >f insanity in Mr. Fuller on the night preceding his death?" 
 
 " I did." 
 
 " What were they ? " 
 
 " Substantially those already testified to by Mrs. Andrews. He 
 called incessantly for the Doctor, saying he could not die till he 
 had seen him." 
 
 Mr. Curtiss, under excitement, interrupted the witness, saying, 
 '- you need not repeat the testimony of other witnesses." 
 
 Cross-examination by Mr. Marshall. " Did he tell you why 
 he wished to see the Doctor ? " 
 
 " He said, he had something of great importance to confess to 
 him, and he could not die with it upon his conscience." 
 
 " How did he appear when you returned with the Doctor?" 
 
 " Perfectly calm and rational." 
 
 " Who were then present ? " 
 
 " Dr. Lenox, Mrs. Fuller, Mrs. Andrews, and myself." 
 
 " Relate what occurred." 
 
 " The Doctor went directly to the bed. When Mr. Fuller saw 
 him, he said audibly, < thank Gocl!' lie then added, that he 
 had committed a great crime which he wished to confess before he 
 died, and that it related to the last will of the late Joseph Lee. Dr. 
 Lenox immediately requested me to go for the nearest magistrate. 
 When I returned with Justice Wilson, the Doctor was praying 
 with the sick man. Fuller's wife holding her husband and weep 
 ing, stood the other side of the bed with Mrs. Andrews. Prayer 
 lying closed, the Doctor informed Justice Wilson of the wysh of 
 ] I ugh Fuller to make a confession which it was important to take 
 in a legal form. The Justice then took the sick man's confession 
 in our presence in the form of an affidavit." 
 
 Mr. Balch was next called, and as he took the stand Mr. Wil- 
 26
 
 302 CORA AND TUE DOCTOK ; 
 
 lard, with a hasty and agitated step, returned to the court, room 
 and resumed his seat. Every eye \tfas turned toward him, as he 
 appeared to be under great excitement which he in vain endeav 
 ored to conceal. He hastily whispered to Mr. Marshall, who 
 started in surprise, and seemed fully to participate in his feel 
 ings. 
 
 Mr. Curtiss to Mr. Balcli. " "Were you acquainted with Mr. 
 Fuller?" 
 
 " Intimately ; I lived next door to him, and we frequently 
 worked together. I saw him almost daily before his death." 
 
 " Did you see him often during his sickness ? " 
 
 " I was at his house every day to inquire after him, and I 
 watched with him several nights." 
 
 " Did you discover signs of insanity in him ? " 
 
 "I did." 
 
 " Relate to the court what you recollect of them." 
 
 " He frequently talked with me about business that he had no 
 connection with, and about all sorts of things that he never talked 
 about in health." 
 
 " When did you see him last ? " 
 
 " On the day before his death." 
 
 " Plow did he then appear ? " 
 
 " He was as wild as a hawk, and kept trying to get off the bed, 
 and pulling the clothes." 
 
 What did he talk about ? " 
 
 " He spoke of houses, and farms, and cattle, and workmen, and 
 all sorts of things, and run from one to another without any con 
 nection." 
 
 Here Mr. Curtis rose with an air of triumph and exultation 
 and said, "Your Honor, unless the counsel for the prosecution 
 wish to cross-examine this witness, we shall here close the 
 direct testimony for the defence." 
 
 Mr. Willard, who had been sitting during the examination of 
 the last witness, with his face concealed by a book, now rose and
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 803 
 
 said, " Your Honor, and you, Gentlemen of the Jury, we shall 
 waive the privilege of cross-examining the last witness for the 
 defence, that we may hasten to introduce a few items of rebutting 
 testimony at this stage of the trial." 
 
 This was said in so low a voice as scarcely to be heard, while 
 he actually trembled with the effort to suppress his emotions. 
 " For this purpose," he continued, " I recall Mrs. Martha Ful 
 ler." 
 
 Mr. Curtiss objects. " She has been already on the stand." 
 
 Mr. Willard. " Your Honor, I recall her to elicit new testi 
 mony, not known at that time." 
 
 Mrs. Fuller having presented herself, he asked leave of the 
 court to inquire, if any one here present were acquainted with the 
 hand writing of Oscar Colby, of Edward Stone, of Hugh Fuller, 
 or of the late Joseph Lee. 
 
 Many voices responded to the call ; a number of persons came 
 forward, and having taken the oath, Mr. Willard advanced toward 
 them, and slowly drawing out his large pocket-book, proceeded 
 to take from thence two yellow and time-worn documents. He 
 partially unfolded them, when each of the signatures were identi 
 fied, with the exception of that of Edward Stone. 
 
 While this was going on the prisoners started suddenly from 
 their seats, lawyers and reporters dropped their pens in their 
 eagerness to witness what was to follow ; even the counsellors for 
 the defence seemed to hang in breathless suspense upon the issue 
 of the moment. 
 
 Then unfolding the larger document, he said, " May it please 
 your Honor, and you, Gentlemen of the Jury: The names of 
 Oscar Colby, Edward Stone, and Hugh Fuller, here appear as 
 witnesses to the last will and testament of the late Joseph Lee, 
 bearing his characteristic signature, and seal, drawn up in the 
 hand-writing of the said Oscar Colby, and bearing even date with 
 the deed before referred to, to wit : Crawford, October twenty- 
 third, one thousand eight hundred and thirty-seven."
 
 304 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 Plere Joseph Lee in a frenzy of rage attempted to spring over 
 his own box into that of his companion, and screamed out, as he 
 met the iron railing, " Perjured wretch, you swore to me it was 
 destroyed." 
 
 The sheriff rapped and thundered " order in court" Still he 
 raved and swore like a maniac, and the sheriff could not control 
 him. 
 
 Though he was heavily ironed, it required the full strength of 
 several constables to keep him quiet. 
 
 Order being restored, Mr. Willard said, " I will here introduce 
 two items of written testimony to rebut the charge of insanity 
 against the author of the affidavit, the principal witness for the 
 prosecution, and to confirm other testimony for the government 
 already before the court. It was not known that these items 
 existed, when we concluded the presentation of the case in behalf 
 of the Commonwealth. I put in as written testimony, first, the 
 last will and testament of Joseph Lee, deceased, which is as 
 follows : 
 
 " ' In the name of God, Amen. I, Joseph Lee Senior, of 
 Crawford, in the County of , Commonwealth of Massachu 
 setts, gentleman, being on my sick bed, and in the near prospect 
 of death, but of sound and disposing mind and memory, do maks 
 and publish this my last will and testament, hereby revoking a 
 former will made by me, and signed and sealed on the fifth day 
 of August, one thousand eight hundred and thirty-five. 
 
 First. I hereby constitute and appoint my beloved son-in-law, 
 Allen Mansfield, to be sole executor of this my last will, directing 
 him to pay all my just debts and funeral charges out of my per 
 sonal estate, as soon after my decease, as shall by him be found 
 convenient. 
 
 Second. I give and bequeath to my beloved daughter, Lucy 
 Lee Mansfield, all the real estate of which I may die possessed. 
 
 Third. I give and bequeath to my faithful steward, Jacob 
 Strong, and to my faithful house-keeper, Susan Burns, each the 
 gum of one thousand dollars.
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OP A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 305 
 
 Fourth. I also give and bequeath to each of my faithful servants, 
 Samuel Dane, Sarah Brown, and Maria Keys, the sum of five 
 lundred dollars. 
 
 Fifth. I give and bequeath the sum of ten thousand dollars as 
 i fund to the Pastor, Rev. Asa Munroe, and Deacon Simon 
 Crocker, and Deacon Josiah Hanscomb, of the first Congregational 
 church in this place, to be held in trust by them and their suc 
 cessors in office forever, subject to the advice of said church. 
 The annual income thereof is to be by them expended for the 
 relief of the poor, and for objects of charity ; a preference being 
 always given among the poor to those impoverished by intemper 
 ance ; and among objects of charity to those more immediately 
 under their observation. 
 
 Sixth. I give and bequeath all the residue of my personal 
 property to my son-in-law, Allen Mansfield, Frank Lenox and 
 John Marshall, and their successors whom they shall appoint, to 
 be by them held in trust, and at their discretion used for the 
 support, and personal comfort of my son, Joseph Lee, and to his 
 heirs after him; or in the event of his death without legitimate 
 offspring, the same shall after his decease revert to my daughter 
 Lucy Lee Mansfield, her heirs and assigns forever. 
 
 In testimony whereof, I, the said Joseph Lee, have to this my 
 last will and testament, set my hand and seal, this twenty-third 
 day of October, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight 
 hundred and thirty-seven. 
 
 JOSEPH LEE. [L. S.] 
 
 Signed, sealed, published, and declared by the said Joseph Lee, 
 as and for his last will and testament, in the presence of us, who 
 at his request, and in his presence, and in the presence of each 
 other, have subscribed our names as witnesses hereto. 
 
 Oscar Colby, 
 
 Edward Stone, 
 
 Hugh Fuller. 
 
 After he had carefully folded the tattered document and 
 
 26*
 
 806 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 replaced it in his pocket-book, Mr. "Willard read the other item 
 of documentary testimony, which proved to be this note of hand. 
 
 " For value received, I promise to pay Oscar Colby or order, 
 five thousand dollars annually, on the first day of January, in each 
 year, during the term of his natural life. 
 
 Signed, Joseph Lee." 
 Crawford, November 23, 1837. 
 
 On the back of this note were seven annual endorsements of 
 five thousand dollars each; amounting to thirty-five thousand 
 dollars. 
 
 Turning to the Judge, he then said, " May it please your Honor, 
 and you, Gentlemen of the Jury, I am instructed by my colleague, 
 the Attorney General, to submit the case in behalf of the Govern 
 ment without argument or comment. This we do from a con 
 viction that after such disclosures, and this array of testimony, 
 a closing argument would be not only a superfluity, but almost an 
 insult to your understanding." 
 
 When he had resumed his seat, Mr. Burke for the defence 
 arose, and said, " May it please your Honor, and you Gentlemen 
 of the Jury, no persons can be taken by greater surprise at these 
 remarkable disclosures, than the counsellors for the defence. And 
 cordially concuring in the remarks of the learned counsel for the 
 prosecution, we have concluded to follow his worthy example, and 
 submit the case without argument, merely invoking for our clients 
 as large a share of commiseration, as may consist with your sense 
 of justice, and with the laws pertaining to their cause." 
 
 The Judge arose from the Bench, and in slow, and grave accents, 
 commended the counsellors, both for the prosecution and the 
 defence for the brief and direct manner in which they had mutually 
 yielded the case to the court. " The same considerations," he 
 added, " which have in their judgment superseded all demand for 
 a closing argument, lead me, Gentlemen of the Jury, to feel that 
 there can be no occasion for my giving you a prolonged charge. 
 The nature of the crime for which the prisoners are arraigned and
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 807 
 
 the penalties which it incurs, have been so properly and ably ex 
 pounded to you by the counsellors as to supersede the necessity 
 of additional comment thereon by the Bench. The trial has been 
 protracted, and your minds must have been perplexed with doubts 
 respecting the importance to be attached to the confession of Hugh 
 Fuller until the introduction of the documentary testimony just 
 submitted, which pours a flood of light upon the case, which of 
 itself would seem sufficient to establish their guilt, and which, 
 taken as a corroboration of the direct and circumstantial testimony 
 previously before the court, amounts to an array of evidence 
 seldom presented. If this evidence has convinced your judgment 
 of the guilt of the prisoners, you will render your verdict accord 
 ingly." 
 
 The Jury retired, and after a few moments returned. The 
 foreman arose and said, " We have made up our verdict." 
 
 By order of the court Joseph Lee was remanded to .the 
 prisoner's box to hear the verdict. 
 
 Clerk. " Do you find the prisoners guilty, or not guilty ? " 
 
 Reply. " Guilty." 
 
 Judge. " The Court will postpone the proclamation of the 
 sentence until the morning session." 
 
 The Court then adjourned till Thursday morning at nine o'clock, 
 it being already past two o'clock, P. M. 
 
 Tlmrsday Morning, November 7th. The court met pursuant to 
 adjournment. At nine o'clock the sheriff and his attendants came 
 into the Court, but Avithout the prisoners. Great excitement was 
 manifested. He communicated with the Judge, who exhibited 
 strong emotion, and who, when the sheriff had opened the Court, 
 announced the death by suicide of Joseph Lee, and the dangerous 
 illness of Oscar Colby. 
 
 Monday, November llth. 
 So ended this horrible tragedy. I intended to have taken notes,
 
 808 CORA AND THE DOCTOR ; 
 
 but my all-absorbing interest in the trial prevented me. Indeed 
 I forgot even my intention to do so. The night of Tuesday, I 
 could not close my eyes in sleep ; but lived over and over again 
 the exciting scenes of the" day, while the loathsome, purple face 
 of Joseph and the haggard visage of his companion were ever 
 before me. 
 
 My dear Lucy was seriously indisposed when we called for her, 
 on our way to the trial, and was glad to remain at home. Allen 
 too bore the marks of the excitement and suffering of the day 
 before, and said he would not willingly go through another such 
 day for all the property in Crawford. But he was destined to a 
 far greater trial during the day on which he had entered. 
 
 I have copied from the daily papers a full account of the trial, 
 merely .adding to it from my own memory. But now I shall 
 endeavor to explain some circumstances connected with it which 
 have not yet been made public. You will remember that in the 
 report of "Wednesday morning, Mr. Willard abruptly left the 
 court-room, after requesting Mr. Marshall to cross-examine the 
 witnesses. The following statement he made to Allen Mansfield, 
 the Doctor, myself and some others after the trial. I will relate 
 it nearly in his own words. 
 
 " It would hardly be supposed," he said, " that I could sleep 
 much at that stage of this exciting trial. I tossed from side to side 
 during the night, and as I reviewed the testimony, came almost to 
 the conclusion that the counsel for the defence would destroy the 
 affidavit in the minds of the Jury and get the case. I thought, if 
 I could only find the second will or some clue to it, this would 
 relieve my embarrassment. I became so much excited by the 
 new train of thought, that I arose from my bed, dressed, and 
 commenced a vigorous walk across my room. 
 
 " Plan after plan for obtaining it or some trace of it was thought 
 of and rejected. Morning dawned; and the duties of the day 
 left me no time for farther speculation. But my midnight thoughts 
 prepared me for what followed, and when I went into Court, a
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 309 
 
 light dawned upon me. It was connected with a circumstance 
 with which you are already acquainted ; namely, with the anxiety 
 which Colby had manifested to have his clothes brought to him in 
 the jail. 
 
 " During the examination of one of the first Avitnesses, it sud 
 denly occurred to me to inquire of the jailer whether he had ever 
 mentioned any garment in particular. I left the court-room for 
 that purpose, and was soon at the jail. I began cautiously by 
 asking whether the prisoners had been rendered comfortable dur 
 ing their confinement. To this, the jailer replied, 'far more 
 comfortable than they deserved. They are ungrateful rascals. 
 Notwithstanding the pains I have taken with Joseph's meals, in 
 consequence of the wishes of his brother Mansfield, yet he was 
 always cursing and swearing in the most shocking manner.' " 
 
 " And how was it with Colby ? I asked. 
 
 " ' I can't say that he did precisely the same. I 've nothing to 
 say against him except that he was always complaining of 
 cold and sending for more clothes. I have sent twice, and I told 
 him that I would n't be bothered with sending again : so I gave 
 him a shawl to put over him.' 
 
 " Did he ever mention any particular garment which he 
 wished ? " 
 
 " ' Yes indeed. It 's vests he asks for. The first time, the 
 man forgot about the vest, and brought an overcoat or something 
 of that sort ; but the next time he got one.' 
 
 " Well," said I, trembling with a mere suspicion that I had got 
 a clue that might lead to the discovery. The jailer seeing me 
 DILI ch interested, went on. 
 
 " ' The very next day, he wanted another vest ; and I refused 
 downright to send again.' 
 
 " Did he specify any one in particular ? " 
 
 " ' Yes ; he said he wanted a new checked satin one, hanging in 
 his wardrobe.' 
 
 " I had heard enough ; and bidding the jailer good morning, I
 
 810 COKA AND THE DOCTOR ; 
 
 stopped at the court-room only long enough to take a sheriff, and 
 proceeded to Lee Hall. Without imparting my suspicions to my 
 companion or to the keeper of the house, I merely told them that 
 I wished once more to examine the room occupied by Mr. Colby ; 
 and notwithstanding the doubt of finding anything new, expressed 
 by the keeper, I walked straight to the wardrobe, and took down 
 every vest hanging there. 
 
 " After laying them upon the bed, I proceeded, (not very de 
 liberately, I confess) to examine the pockets and to see if I could 
 discover any inner pockets. But no, the keeper standing'by said, 
 as I laid one down after another, ' them are clothes has all under 
 gone a thorough castigation, and there ha 'n't nothing been found 
 in 'em.' 
 
 " Hardly knowing why, I took up again the thick black satin 
 vest, and walked to the window. My heart almost stopped beat 
 ing, as I saw that a slit had been cut in the lining, and carefully 
 sewed up again. Quick as lightning, I cut the thread, put in my 
 fingers, drew out the very document of which I was in search, 
 and the note of hand within it. I sprang full two feet from the 
 floor, as I discovered the treasure, and my companions echoed 
 and reechoed my shout of delight. I hastened to the court-room 
 with my important rebutting testimony," said he with a smile, 
 " and you know the result." 
 
 Allen Mansfield was so excited during this relation that he had 
 to sit down two or three times, and then forgetting himself he 
 started from his seat. When Mr. Willard had finished his re 
 markable story, he found that his circle of hearers had greatly 
 increased since the commencement of his narrative. Not only 
 Mr. Marshall, the Attorney General, the Counsellors for the 
 defence, and a score of Reporters but the Judge from the bench 
 had pressed around him to learn how so important a mystery had 
 been revealed. He then received the warm congratulations of all 
 his associates at the bar, for his success, and at the favorable ter 
 mination of the suit. 

 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 311 
 
 Mr. Mansfield begged the Doctor and myself to communicate 
 ihe result of the trial to Lucy. We did so, but found her suffer 
 ing so severely from nervous excitement, that my husband judged 
 it wiser to avoid particulars, and merely to inform her that the 
 .- uit had resulted in her favor. A deep sigh, with the words, 
 ' ; Oh ! rrijli poor brother Joseph ! " were all her reply. 
 
 It was now past three o'clock, and I hastened to my babies, 
 and communicated the sad story to mother. In consequence of 
 losing my sleep the previous? night, 1 did not rise till quite late 
 on Thursday morning. Wlien I went below, a man was just 
 ] caving the hall ; and as Frank shut the door after him, I heard 
 him say, " Oh ! how shocking ! " He immediately prepared to go 
 out. 
 
 " My dear husband," I said, " something dreadful has happened, 
 I perceive by your looks. Don't be afraid to tell me. I fear 
 L ucy _ 
 
 " No ! No ! ! " said he, interrupting me, " I have heard nothing 
 i'rom her. Don't be alarmed. I shall soon be back." 
 
 He had been gone nearly an hour, when a messenger came in 
 great haste for him to go to Mr. Mansfield's Lucy was in a 
 dreadful swoon. I ran down to inquire more particularly, and to 
 direct him to go to the office for the Doctor, when he told me the 
 horrid catastrophe. Joseph Lee had been found dead in his cell, 
 having hung himself from a large hook driven into the wall and 
 used to hang up a coat or a hat. 
 
 With mother's advice, I proceeded immediately to Mr. Mans 
 field's, where I found every thing in the utmost confusion. Ser 
 vants were running to and fro ; some crying, some trying to soothe 
 others, while Emily and her sweet little brothers were the only 
 ones who remained calm. I stopped a moment to speak to them 
 in the nursery, when the dear girl said, " I'm trying to keep my 
 brothers quiet, because mamma is very sick." 
 
 I hastened to their mother's chamber, Avhere my husband was
 
 312 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 leaning over his patient, applying the most powerful restoratives, 
 while her agitated husband and Mrs. Burns were putting stimu 
 lants to her hands and feet. Not a pulse throbbed no sign of 
 life appeared. The Doctor repeatedly held a small mirror be 
 fore her face, but was unable to discover the least breath. But 
 at length, with a deep sigh from her over-burdened heart, she 
 very gradually recovered her consciousness. 
 
 All stood back from her view except her physician. Poor Al 
 len, with tears streaming down his cheeks, dared not show himself. 
 The sufferer was soon able to take a little camphor and water, 
 and without letting her see me, I returned to the children. Sum 
 moning the nurse, I told her if she would dress her young charge, 
 I would send for them to pass the day with my little ones ; and 
 not waiting for my husband, I returned home. 
 
 That was on Thursday morning, the time appointed by the 
 Judge, for the prisoners to receive their sentence. When the 
 jailer went to carry them their breakfast, he ascertained that one 
 of them was beyond the reach of any earthly tribunal. He had 
 rushed unbidden, into the presence of his great Judge. Hasten 
 ing to the other cell, and almost fearing to enter, lest he should 
 find him in a similar condition, he ascertained that he was raving 
 incoherently from a fever, and hastily sent for the Doctor. His 
 disease proved to be a violent congestion of the brain ; and it still 
 remains very doubtful whether he will recover. 
 
 A coroner's jury was called to sit on the body of Joseph, and 
 rendered a verdict of death by suicide. The Doctor says he can 
 not see how he could have succeeded in his attempt. He had 
 hooked his cloak around his neck, and then hung it upon the hook 
 on the wall by one of the eyes which fastened it together. He 
 had been dead some hours, and probably terminated his life soon 
 after dark, though from the examination it appeared that he must 
 have been a long time in the agonies of death. His face was 
 almost black, and his hands tightly clenched. So died Joseph
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 313 
 
 f&e ! The vast wealth of which he had so unrighteously pos- 
 ^ essed himself, what now was that to him ? It would only fill his 
 t-oul with enduring agony and remorse. 
 
 Friday, November 22d, 
 
 Emily Lenox Mansfield, with her twin brothers Charlie and 
 j larry, have this morning left us to go home. I feel quite lonely 
 without them. Emily is a most engaging child of six years of 
 : ge. Her eyes filled with tears as she parted with Pauline, who 
 ] as been extremely kind .and obliging to her little visitors. I 
 ] romised that she should soon spend a dav with them, now that 
 1 lieir mother is getting stronger. Mrs. Mansfield was very ill for 
 t-everal days after hearing of her brother's dreadful end. She 
 recovered from one fainting fit only to fall into another. I think 
 Frank became really alarmed at last; but she is now much bet- 
 t T, and able to sit up two or three hours in a day. 
 
 She has never asked a question about the result of the trial, 
 and is still unacquainted with the shocking detail. The Doctor 
 fearing lest she should hear of it suddenly, told her yesterday of 
 tl ie death of Oscar Colby, which occurred night before last. My 
 husband has visited him twice every day in his cell, hoping to 
 find an opportunity, if his reason should return, to point him to 
 his crucified Saviour. But alas ! no such season presented itself. 
 The poor man never appeared to be conscious, not even for a mo 
 ment, after he was found so ill the day after the trial. 
 
 One fact will ^interest you much. The distillery is closed for 
 ever. Mr. Mansfield intends to convert it into a large ware 
 house. 
 
 Lee Hall is undergoing repairs, and early in the spring, I sup 
 pose we shall lose our loved neighbors, who will go to the old 
 homestead. Jacob Strong and Sarah Brown will go back with 
 them. Mrs. Burns and Maria .Keyes have always remained in 
 the family. I believe I express the feelings of the whole commu- 
 
 27
 
 314 CORA AND THE DOCTOK. 
 
 nity when I say, that I am delighted that such persons as Mr. 
 and Mrs. Mansfield have come into the possession of so valuable 
 an estate. I know, they feel themselves to be but stewards, and 
 that they will hereafter be called to render an account of their 
 stewardship.
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 " All is not here of our belov'd and blessed, 
 Leave ye the sleeper with his God to rest! " MES. HEMAXB. 
 
 Wednesday, October 15th, 1845. 
 
 MY dearly loved mother, How can I express \vords of sym 
 pathy to you, when my heart is so full of grief on my own account, 
 from such a loss as I can never experience but once, the loss of a 
 father. 
 
 To lose a parent under any circumstances is a heavy affliction ; 
 but to lose such a father, and to be unable to administer to his 
 comfort, by his sick bed ; to receive and treasure the words of 
 love and wisdom which fall from his lips, to hear his last prayer, 
 and receive his last blessing, is indeed a sorrow heavy to be borne. 
 You, my dear my only surviving parent, have one source of com 
 fort, which though it may at present aggravate the loss you have 
 sustained, will yet be an unspeakable blessing to you ; and that 
 is in the precious memories of your dear husband. These remem 
 brances of the past, how will you live in them after the first 
 poignancy of your grief has abated ; how greatly will they sustaiu 
 you. 
 
 I can truly say, that not one unpleasant word, not one unholy 
 expression comes up to disturb the hallowed remembrance of my 
 dearly loved father. On the contrary, every hard feeling is 
 softened, every unkind thought subdued, when I think of his- 
 meek, loving spirit, and recollect his words of love toward
 
 316 CORA AND THE DOCTOR. 
 
 all mankind. " Dear, dear father ! And shall I never see thee 
 more ? never more gaze into thy mild blue eyes, and see the looks 
 of parental fondness beaming there never more feel thy warm 
 embrace, or hear thy gentle voice say, " my daughter ! " 
 
 Ah ! in the midnight hour I see thee oft, 
 
 And hear thy voice 
 Thy mingled words of love and tenderness. 
 And thou dost point me to the promis'd land, 
 
 Where now thou dwell'st 
 The better land of never ending bliss. 
 
 My dear mother, if anything earthly could alleviate a sorrow 
 like mine, it is the hope, though yet faint, that I shall ere long 
 look upon your dear face and from your own lips hear the answer to 
 the many questions my heart yearns to ask. Do not disappoint 
 me. Have I not a claim upon you for a few years ? I can 
 anticipate one objection you will feel in leaving the spot consecrated 
 as the resting place of your beloved husband. But, dear mother, 
 he is not there. He is with his Saviour, and the throne of grace 
 is as near us in America as in England. 
 
 My dear Frank is almost as earnest in this request as I am, 
 and will meet you in New York, if Isabel or Nelly will go with 
 you to Liverpool and put you in charge of some one coming direct 
 to that place. I long to show you my treasures. Pauline you 
 will love as if she Avere your own ; and Nelly's face is wreathed 
 in smiles at the name of grand-mamma Gordon. Franky is a 
 merry, joyous little fellow, who wins his way to every heart. He- 
 holds out his arms to any one who comes in, and never was the 
 old adage, " love begets love," more true than in his case ; for 
 many persons who are not in the habit of noticing children, are 
 so well pleased at the readiness with which the child concludes 
 them to be friends, that they are never weary of praising him.
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 "In the joy of a well ordered home, be warned that this is not your rest; 
 For the substance to come may be forgotten in the present beauty of the sha 
 dow." 
 
 TUPPEK. 
 
 Tuesday, August Qth, 1850. 
 
 WE were rejoiced, dear mother, to hear of your safe arrival 
 at home, and the hearty welcome you received from your children 
 and grand-children. 
 
 With Isabel's four, and Nelly's two little ones, you really have 
 quite a flock. I wish they could all be together once. I long to 
 have my children acquainted with their English cousins. 
 
 Pauline is quite inclined to commence a correspondence with 
 Isabel's Ernest. You were so much pleased with her perfect 
 simplicity and artlessness of character, I will relate a little incident 
 which occurred since you left. The Doctor and myself were 
 invited to a small party at Mr. Mansfield's, and as has often 
 occurred of late, Pauline was included in the invitation. 
 
 She met there quite a number of young ladies of her own age, 
 as well as many older persons. In the course of the evening 
 music was called for, and some of the young ladies were requested 
 lo play upon the piano or harp. Misses upon whom hundreds of 
 dollars had been expended for instruction in music, and who had 
 been daily practising for many years, now refused to gratify their 
 parents, or friends, by an effort to play. 
 
 27*
 
 318 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 One young lady " could n't think of it," and with a great 
 affectation of modesty, "never could play if any one was by." 
 This same young lady in the course of the evening, not only did 
 play, after being sufficiently urged to do so, but laughed so loud 
 that her rudeness arrested the attention of all present. Another 
 young miss had a " very bad cold ; " the cold however subsided 
 after sufficient pleading to sing from a young gentleman near her. 
 
 But I was intending to speak of my simple-hearted Pauline. 
 She appeared much astonished at the unwillingness to oblige, 
 which these young girls manifested ; and when one of the company 
 said, " here is a young lady, who, I think, will give us some music," 
 she very gracefully walked to the piano-forte, pleasantly saying, 
 " I shall be very happy to oblige you." She played, by her own 
 selection, some simple pieces which she accompanied with her 
 sweet voice. 
 
 The lady was moved to tears, while the young people crowded 
 around her, eagerly asking for more. She willingly complied, and 
 played one piece after another as they were selected for her, and 
 with such beauty of expression and even brilliancy in the execu 
 tion, that I was not only delighted by her sweet manner, but 
 proud of the success of my first pupil. 
 
 Mrs. Marshall sat near me, and said with tears in her eyes, 
 " My dear Mrs. Lenox, you have a great treasure in that lovely 
 girl," (and so indeed I have.) " I hope," she continued, " that the 
 young ladies will endeavor to imitate so worthy an example." 
 
 Wednesday, August 1th. 
 
 I have given the children a holiday, on account of the intense 
 heat. I am richly repaid for all m'y care in the education of 
 Pauline, by the aid she is to me in the care of her sister and 
 brother. 
 
 Franky loves her as a teacher, even better than he does me. 
 I fear, he sometimes imposes upon her good nature and her great 
 love for him, by his inattention and restlessness during school-hours.
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 319 
 
 But I really cannot blame them such a clay as this, with the 
 thermometer at ninety degrees in the shade. 
 
 There is a great deal of sickness in the town, and the Doctor 
 has a number of cases of typhus fever. I think such cases have 
 occurred every year about this season. He now realizes the 
 benefit of so efficient a partner as he finds in Doctor Clapp, whose 
 days of leisure have been long ago forgotten, or only remembered 
 to be sighed for. He has removed to a pleasant residence down in 
 town, and his good wife finds ample employment in the training 
 of her numerous little flock, leaving her culinary department, in 
 which she was so skilful, to the aid which her husband's abundant 
 means enable him to provide. 
 
 Timrsday, August 8th. 
 
 The heat still continues unabated. I should be inclined to call 
 myself sick, if it were not for my anxiety for the Doctor, who 
 appears to me to be quite unwell, though he will not allow it to 
 be anything of importance, but only the effect of riding in the 
 heat. I do believe physicians make the very worst patients, and 
 dread the taking of medicine more than any other class of 
 persons. 
 
 Saturday, August 10th. 
 
 We have had a most refreshing shower, which has cooled the 
 heated air. But it does not appear to have revived my poor 
 husband, who though still suffering from a most violent head-ache, 
 yet persisted in going to visit a few of his sickest patients. I am 
 really very anxious, and will set up my authority when he re- 
 inrns. We have long ago settled the vexed question of obedience ; 
 I am to obey him when he is well, and he is to obey me when he 
 i;s sick. 
 
 Sabbath, August llth. 
 My authority was unnecessary. Dear Frank came home at
 
 320 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 noon, pale as a ghost, and went willingly to bed. I sent for Dr. 
 Clapp without consulting him, and a powder which he administered 
 has somewhat relieved the pain, so that he is now asleep, while I 
 sit by him. 
 
 Monday, September 2d. 
 
 Oh ! how much of fear, anxiety and engrossing care has been 
 crowded "into the few days which have intervened since I wrote 
 the above. 
 
 I have taken my pen, as I sit by the couch of my husband, to 
 relieve my swelling heart. The night succeeding the first call of 
 Dr. Clapp, Frank was perfectly wild with delirium. I was obliged 
 to call Ccesar to help me keep him in bed. He did not know us, 
 and supposed we were trying to keep him from getting home. 
 Oh! how my heart ached, as he- entreated to be allowed to go 
 home, saying again and again, " my wife will be so anxious." 
 
 Sometimes for a minute, he seemed to recognize mother, and 
 then would talk to her in the strangest manner, thinking her a 
 patient or somebody else. Notwithstanding all the skill of his 
 physician, the unceasing watchfulness of friends, or the action of 
 medicine, my dear, dear husband rapidly grew worse. Indeed 
 Dr. Clapp said, he must have had a settled fever for a week 
 before he took his bed. Early on Monday morning, the twelfth 
 
 ultimo, our kind Doctor sent to the city for Dr. J , an eminent 
 
 physician, to come to Crawford for a consultation. 
 
 He arrived by the next train of cars. I watched their looks, 
 and hung upon their words, as if they had the power of life and 
 death in their hands. I knew that Dr. Clapp considered my dear 
 husband a very sick man ; but oh ! I did not realize till then, that 
 
 there was hardly a hope of his recovery. Dr. J looked very 
 
 grave, and when his brother physician in a low voice, pointed out 
 some of the symptoms, he shook his head. 
 
 I went silently from the room ; I could contain myself no 
 longer. They soon retired to consult upon the case, aftfir which
 
 REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 321 
 
 I begged them to tell me exactly what they thought of their 
 
 patient. Dr. Clapp turned hastily away, while Dr. J pressed 
 
 ray hand, saying, " My dear madam, we are all in the hands of 
 God." 
 
 I almost gasped for breath, as I tried to say, " but you think he 
 will live, oh ! say that he will live." 
 
 The kind Doctor put his handkerchief to his eyes, as he 
 answered, "while there is life, there is hope, but I ought not to 
 deceive you." 
 
 " Oh ! " said I, while weeping bitter tears, " I can't hear you 
 ?ay that I may not hope." 
 
 Dr. Clapp wrung my hand, and Avept aloud, " I shall lose the 
 best friend I ever had," said he, while I sank back almost fainting 
 
 into a chair. Dr. J sat down by me, and tried to compose 
 
 my feelings, saying that I should be ill myself, and that my dear 
 husband had lived a useful life, and was prepared to enter upon 
 his glorious inheritance ; but every word cut deeper and deeper 
 into my heart, convincing me that they had given up all hope. I 
 pressed my hand to my head which seemed to ,be flying off, and 
 rushed from the room. I flew to the farther end of the house, to 
 a room the most remote from that where lay my sick, and as they 
 thought, my dying husband. 1 threw myself upon the bed and 
 wept aloud. My heart was in a dreadful state of rebellion against 
 iny Maker. The most awful thoughts came into my mind ; but I 
 drove them hence ; " Why should I lose my husband ? I do not 
 wish to live without him. I cannot give him up," was the language 
 of my unsubmissive heart. But all at once the thought of my 
 horrible ingratitude to my heavenly Father, who had bestowed 
 upon me such a companion, and who had allowed us to live 
 together so many years, struck me dumb. I arose from my bed, 
 threw myself upon my knees, and plead earnestly for pardon, and 
 for a submissive spirit I knew, I felt, I confessed that I had 
 made an idol of my dear Frank, and I cried fervently for a spirit 
 to say,
 
 322 CORA AND THE DOCTOR ; 
 
 " The dearest idol I have known, 
 
 What e'er that idol be, 
 Help me to tear it from thy throne, 
 And worship only thee." 
 
 Long and severe was the struggle with my hard and undutifii 
 feelings. But the answer came at length, and with tears which 
 were no longer bitter, I arose and was enabled by divine grace to 
 say, " The Lord gave and the Lord taketh away, blessed be the 
 name of the Lord." I felt a sweet peace in giving him, whom 1 
 best loved to my Saviour, and it seemed but a very short time 
 before I should go to him and dwell with him, where there would 
 be no more sorrow, and no more parting, but where all tears would 
 be wiped from our eyes. 
 
 When 1 went back to the sick room, however, and saw the pale, 
 haggard countenance, the sunken eyes, and heard the labored 
 breath, my heart sunk within me, as I realized that he would soon 
 pass from my sight, without one parling word, one farewell kiss. 
 As I stood gazing at him, the inspired passage occurred to me, 
 " In whose hands our breath is, and whose are all our ways." I 
 then remembered that God had power to restore the emaciated 
 form before me, to new life and vigor. The thought that it 
 might be his will to give my husband back to me, even from the 
 borders of the grave, sent the warm blood throbbing through me. 
 I again poured out my heart in prayer to God, not for myself, but 
 for the life of my husband. I renewedly dedicated him to God. 
 I cried out, " Oh ! my heavenly Father, give me his life." 
 
 Dear mother also was besieging the throne of grace in his 
 behalf. But he lay unconscious of the agonized hearts throbbing 
 near him, anxiously watching every breath he drew. 
 
 Dr. Clapp was to be with him through Monday night. Mother 
 besought me to try to sleep. I wondered if she thought I could 
 ever sleep again ? But I only shook my head. The crisis was 
 rapidly approaching. I saw that not a sigh, or a groan escaped 
 the notice of our kind physician ; but I was calm. I eve/i
 
 OE, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 323 
 
 vondered at myself. A strong, but invisible arm was put round 
 
 about me to strengthen me, and I leaned upon it to sustain my 
 
 Irooping spirit. The night passed slowly away, the morning 
 
 >egan to dawn ; not a word had been spoken for the past hour. 
 
 Dr. Clapp sat with his fingers upon the wrist of his patient, where 
 
 ~. ie could scarce feel the fluttering pulse. Ever and anon he would 
 
 ake the candle from the table, hold it before the face of the pale 
 
 mfferer, and then silently shade it again. 
 
 At length he arose, and putting his fingers upon his lips, to 
 enjoin perfect silence, he withdrew from the room. Nothing could 
 )Q heard but the ticking of the watch and our own loud breathing. 
 it seemed a long, long time that the Doctor was absent, and when 
 :ie came in, I saw he had been weeping. In an agony of grief 
 :ny very soul yearned for one more look, one more word of love. 
 '. r . hardly dared to uncover my face. "When I did so, the Doctor 
 n'as wetting his patient's lips with a sponge. Then he sat down 
 again, with his fingers upon the pulse. 
 
 What had come over the man ? I wiped my eyes to see clearer. 
 His whole face was lit up with an expression, to which it had for 
 many days been a stranger ; but I dared not hope. Again and 
 again the sponge was dipped in the cup and applied to the parched 
 lips, and still we sat, as though we had no tongues, or knew not 
 how to use them, when feeling that I could not breathe, I silently 
 arose and left the room. The kind watcher followed, and leading 
 me down stairs to the library, shut the door, and in a husky voice 
 said, "My dear Mrs. Lenox, the crisis has passed, and your 
 husband still lives." 
 
 I started from my chair. " Compose yourself, my dear lady," 
 lie continued. "There is hope that he may recover," and our 
 sympathizing friend wept tears of joy. 
 
 But for me the reaction was too great. I felt myself falling to 
 the floor. When I recovered Pauline was bathing my temples. 
 Dr. Clapp had left the room and returned to his patient. I 
 speedily recovered and followed him, and was softly stepping
 
 324 CORA AND THE DOCTOR ; 
 
 toward the bed where mother sat holding her beloved son by the 
 hand. But the physician saw roe and motioned me back. I 
 withdrew into the hall, where he soon joined me, and leading me 
 away from the door, said, " Your husband is now conscious, and 
 will recognize you. Can you compose yourself? The least ex 
 citement may be fatal to him." 
 
 After a moment, in which I tried to hush the loud beating of 
 my heart, and to breathe a prayer for strength, I said, " I think I 
 can," and we again entered the room. I walked silently to the 
 bed, and looked at my darling Frank. His eyes were closed and 
 his face closely resembled death ; but when he feebly opened his 
 eyes, the light of reason beamed thence, and he knew me. I 
 kissed his forehead and almost flew from the room. My heart 
 was filled witli the most delightful emotions of gratitude and joy, 
 " and though my voice was silent, being stopped by the intense - 
 ness of what I felt, yet my soul sung within me and even leaped 
 for joy." The emotion was so intense as to be nearly allied to 
 pain. I pressed my hand to my heart to keep it from bursting. 
 I heard a gentle step, and my sweet Pauline sat by my side, and 
 drawing my head to her breast, sought to soothe my agitated feel 
 ings. She had been weeping. " Dear mamma," she whispered, 
 " I am so happy, I have been trying to thank God for making 
 dear father better." 
 
 " My love," said I, " will you thank our heavenly Father for 
 me?" As we sat, she breathed out her heart to God like one who 
 was used to going to him, as to a tender father. I pressed her to 
 me and thanked God for so great a treasure. 
 
 Wednesday, September kth. 
 
 I was proceeding with my writing, the day before yesterday, 
 supposing Frank to be asleep, when he put his hand upon mine, 
 and said, " my love, you have wept quite enough." 
 
 While scarcely conscious of the fact, I had been continually 
 wiping my eyes, to enable me to see the page. Many tears I see 
 have fallen upon my paper.
 
 OK, REVELATIONS OF A VHYSICIAN's WIFE. 325 
 
 " They are tears of gratitude," I replied, lifting his hand to my 
 lips. " My heart is so full it overflows." There were answering 
 tears in his eyes then ; " Cora," said he with the utmost tenderness, 
 ' while I lay upon this bed, and in the near prospect of death, I 
 >aw that I had made idols of the dear ones God has given me ; 
 und I resolved, his grace strengthening me, that I would devote 
 myself more entirely to him. We cannot love each other too^ 
 nuch, my own wife ; but let us love God more. While we love 
 :ach other, and our dear children, let us not forget him, who so 
 'oved us as to die for us." 
 
 Tuesday, September IQth. 
 
 My dear husband gains but slowly. He has not yet been able 
 ;o have his bed made, but he says, he does not suffer except from 
 .veakness. After being absent from the room about an hour to 
 :^ive Nelly her music lesson, I returned and took Pauline's place 
 1 >y her father's side, requesting her to go out with the children for 
 u walk. 
 
 He took up the book, she had turned down upon the bed, sup 
 posing I should continue the reading. " I hardly know," said he, 
 < ; which to admire the more, the skill of the teacher, or the profi 
 ciency of the pupil. Pauline is a fine reader, and her voice is 
 very musical." 
 
 " Yes," I answered, " I have often thought her voice low and 
 melodious as the daughters of Italy." 
 
 " She may be one of them," he replied, closing his eyes. 
 " Cora," he resumed after a short pause, " I have had time to think 
 of a great many things since I lay here, and I feel that I have 
 not dealt justly by our daughter, Pauline." 
 
 " Frank," said I, interrupting him, " you do yourself wrong." 
 
 " Hear me through," said he pleasantly. " I do not mean that 
 I do not love her enough, for there is no difference in my feelings 
 toward her, and her lively sister; or if any, my love is more 
 deep and sacred to the child of our adoption ; but if I should be 
 
 28
 
 
 326 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 taken away, she could not inherit a share of my property, as a 
 child. If I ever rise from my bed, I will make a will, so that all 
 my children shall share alike." I pleaded long and earnestly with 
 him to allow me the privilege of making over to her my own 
 property, which he had insisted upon settling upon me. 
 
 But he said " no," very decidedly, and when I was calm enough 
 to hear, he explained his refusal to my satisfaction. 
 
 " Pauline has no idea that she is not of our blood, and I hope, 
 she may never know it unless " said he, " but that is very 
 unlikely " and stopped. 
 
 " I know, you are thinking if we should ever discover her 
 parents ; but if we do, she is nothing to them as she is to us. 
 They have never inquired for her." 
 
 " Softly," said Frank, with a smile, " I do not think there is any 
 occasion for you to distress yourself; your imagination, I dare 
 say, has already pictured her mother standing before you, ready 
 to take her from your arms." 
 
 I laughed, " Yes," I answered, " pretty neai'ly that ; but go on." 
 
 " If any such event should occur," said he, returning to the 
 subject from which we had digressed, " a difference between her 
 and them might call up feelings and explanations Avhich would be 
 unpleasant to all concerned." 
 
 I fully concurred in this view of the case, and then we discussed 
 her lovely character, and heartily agreed that we had reaped a 
 rich reward for our care of her, in the influence she exerted over 
 her brother and sister. 
 
 Frank obeys her," said I, " quite as readily as he does me, 
 though she never exercises any authority over him. She has a 
 charm, I believe ; I don't know what I should do without her." 
 
 " I fear," said Frank, " you '11 have to give her up some day." 
 
 " What for ? " said I eagerly. 
 
 " "Why somebody may come along and win her away." 
 
 " She is nothing but a child, only seventeen last June." 
 
 And how many years older, and how much taller was my
 
 OK, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 327 
 
 C ora, when I took her from her mother ? You will never know 
 h >w I loved you for taking the friendless child so closely to your 
 h -art. I had looked forward with the hope that God would bless 
 our union, and give us children ; but I had not thought of finding 
 one so soon. I have often laughed to myself," he continued, " at 
 tl e remark dear, good aunt Susy made about my being so impa- 
 ti >nt ' for a darter I had to pick one up in the streets, and give to 
 y< >u.' Good old soul ! She hit pretty near the truth, certainly. 
 S ;ldom has anything given me greater pleasure than when you 
 t:i ught the little creature to say ' Papa,' and you blushed so rosy 
 tco. I dared not say much ; I feared you might grow weary of 
 tie care. I had not then learned all I have since. But when I 
 sjnv you give up many pleasures to devote yourself to the little 
 motherless child, and particularly when I witnessed year after 
 year your care of her education, I have felt that you would have 
 your reward." 
 
 Monday, September 23d. 
 
 Mother and I are now obliged to exert our authority. The 
 Doctor is as hungry as a bear, and says he will not be kept on 
 slops any longer. He spoke so much like a child begging for 
 some cake, or bread and butter, that I had a hearty laugh at him. 
 But though he could not keep from laughing in sympathy, yet he 
 says, " it is a very serious matter ; Dr. Clapp has been starving 
 me for a month past, and now I intend to have something to eat." 
 
 Mother promised him a slice of toast for his dinner, and he 
 asked half a dozen times in the course of an hour if it were not 
 dinner time. At length I gave him the watch that he might see 
 for himself. When Pauline brought the toast and tea, he entered 
 upon the discussion of them with such a grave face, as if it were 
 of such solemn importance, that Pauline and I had enough to do 
 to keep from laughing aloud, which in the present state of his 
 nerves would never do. 
 
 M other says, "it's always a good sign when children are 
 worrysome."
 
 328 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 But the Doctor did not take this speech at all well, and said 
 with a grieved look, " I was not aware I had given occasion for 
 such a remark." 
 
 Wednesday, September 25th. 
 
 We have had war in the camp. But I must explain. I noticed 
 this morning that Phebe was cooking something very savory, but 
 thought no more of it. Mother, Pauline, or I, have always 
 remained with the Doctor while the others are at dinner. 
 
 To-day I thought I would remain ; but Frank would not consent. 
 Pauline said, " No, mamma, I '11 attend to father," at the same 
 time I saw that she was very much flushed and looked really 
 distressed. Frank insisted she should remain, and I went below, 
 wondering not a little at the meaning of all this. After I had 
 carved for the others, I thought so much of Pauline's looks, that 
 I excused myself a moment, and ran softly back to the room. 
 
 Judge then of my amazement when I beheld Phebe standing 
 before her master holding a bowl, while the Doctor was putting 
 spoonful after spoonful into his mouth, as fast as he could. Pau 
 line stood by looking as if she were not sure whether to laugh or 
 to cry. 
 
 I sprang forward to take the bowl ; but quicker than thought, 
 Phebe had caught it under her apron, hoping I had not seen it, 
 while the Doctor looked like a whipped dog. The whole affair 
 was so ludicrous, that it was with the utmost difficulty, I could 
 keep my countenance. But endeavoring to look very stern, J. 
 said, " Dr. Frank Lenox, you will please to tell me what you 
 have been eating ? " He had already eaten a hearty dinner for a 
 sick man, not half an hour before. 
 
 There was no reply. 
 
 " Well then," said I, " there is no help for it. I must give you 
 a dose of castor oil." I proceeded toward the closet, as if I were 
 intending to administer it to him at once, while I was thankful for 
 an opportunity to relax my stern countenance.
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 329 
 
 " Cora," cried the Doctor, " don't give me any." His voice 
 was feeble, and I could carry the joke no farther. 
 
 " Well, then, what can I do ? " I asked, returning to him. 
 " Phebe, do you know that what you were giving your master 
 may cause his death ? " 
 
 Pauline began to cry, " Oh, mamma, I was afraid I was not 
 doing right, but father so longed for some chicken broth." 
 
 " Laws missus ! " said Phebe, uncovering the bowl, " 'tan't got 
 no strength to it. 'Pears like he's powerful hungry. I 'clare 
 your ole Phebe be de last one make the broth too strong for sick 
 mass'r." 
 
 I tasted the broth and finding it really weak, I hoped my hun 
 gry patient had sustained no real injury. The Doctor put out 
 his hand to Pauline, and in a most child-like tone said, " I was 
 the only one to blame, dear child." 
 
 She kissed him, and I motioned her to go below. Frank look 
 ed as if he thought he deserved a punishment, and expected to 
 receive it ; but some how I never could punish a child who 
 appeared sorry, and just so I felt in this case; and therefore I 
 merely said, " I will help you to lie down, and will read to you. 
 My dear husband," I said, when I rose to go below for my dinner, 
 " if the broth does not injure you, I will ask Dr. Clapp to let you 
 have a dinner of it to-morrow." 
 
 He looked his thanks and pressed my hand. I am more than 
 ever convinced that man was made to command, and woman to 
 obey, and that the rule in that good old fashioned book is right, 
 " wives reverence your husbands husbands love your wives." 
 
 Tuesday, October 1st. 
 
 Frank is so much better, that he not only eats broth, but 
 chicken and eggs. I believe, he would eat six meals a day, if we 
 would carry them to him. But I think he is gi'owing a little moi'e 
 rational. Pauline came to me the other day, very much grieved 
 at herself for carrying the broth to her father. He had begged 
 
 28*
 
 330 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 her to ask Phebe up, when mother and I were away, enjoining 
 the strictest secrecy upon her, and the poor child knew not what 
 to do. I comforted her with the thought that no harm had come 
 of it, and she would know better next time, 
 
 Frank sits up almost all day, and we are beginning to feel a 
 little settled. School lessons are vigorously learned, Pauline 
 having been duly installed in my place as teacher. I have as 
 much as I can do to take care of my patient, who is, however, 
 rather impatient sometimes, if I am long out of the room. 
 
 If I leave him with mother, I have to set the exact time .that 
 I will return, and give him the watch to mark the minutes. 
 Though often inconvenient, yet it is delightful to have him long 
 ing for me to be with him. I would not for worlds have it other 
 wise. 
 
 Monday, October 7th. 
 
 I have some wonderful news for you, dear mother. It is our 
 present intention to leave America just as soon as the Doctor is 
 able, spend the winter and spring in the south of France, and 
 return home by way of England. 
 
 We should not be able to do this, if it were not for our kind 
 friend and physician, Dr. Clapp. I love him as a dear brother, 
 and there is a most delightful intercourse between our families. I 
 have not time to tell you how this plan came about so quickly ; 
 only to say that it is nothing new to the Doctor ; but he has been 
 keeping it to himself. Mother will spend, at least, part of the 
 winter with Emily, and Ann will go with her. Crcsar and Phebe 
 will remain here. Ruth is to accompany us with all the children. 
 
 Thursday, October 10th. 
 We hope to leave in the " Unicorn," which sails the twenty-fifth 
 of this month. The Doctor has rode out once, and it did him 
 great good. Pauline is much pleased with the prospect of visit 
 ing Europe, while Nelly and Frank are perfectly wild with delight.
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN S WIFE. 
 
 We may meet Joseph Morgan, who has been in business in France 
 for two years or more. 
 
 Friday, October llth. 
 
 I have but a moment to tell you that preparations are going on 
 briskly. Emily Benson has come over from the parsonage and 
 is very efficient assistance. She thinks of everything. Mr. 
 Benson lost nothing by waiting five years for her. She has 
 developed into a splendid woman, and is universally beloved in 
 the parish. " Her husband also and he praiseth her." 
 
 Though every moment is precious, yet I cannot refrain from 
 repeating a remark of our good friend, Mrs. Marshall, wife of the 
 Attorney General, in relation to our dear sister. She said, " Mr. 
 Benson's family reminds me of Cowper's description of his friends, 
 the Unwins, ' Go when I will, I find a house full of peace and 
 eoi'diality in all its parts and am sure to hear no scandal, but such 
 discourse instead of it, as we are all the better for.' " 
 
 You would laugh if you could see the quantity of baggage 
 master Franky has collected for the journey, and which he has 
 no doubt aunt Emily will be able to get into his trunks. This 
 moving a whole family for an absence of nine months, which is 
 probably the length of time we shall be away from home, is no 
 trifling matter. 
 
 Mother insists that I shall not trouble myself with a thought 
 about home arrangements. She will attend to everything here. 
 My dear husband gains a little every day, and I think would gain 
 faster if it were not for his anxiety to do more than he is able, 
 lie has been so long accustomed to take care of all of us, that he 
 can hardly restrain himself until he is overcome with fatigue. 
 
 Wednesday, October 23d. 
 
 Dear mother, our trunks are packed, and we are on the eve of 
 departure. To-morrow morning we leave for New York, and are 
 lo sail on Thursday. *
 
 332 
 
 CORA AND THE DOCTOR. 
 
 A day or two since the Doctor received a champagne-basket 
 full, not of wine, but of London porter, from his gi'ateful patient, 
 Lucy Mansfield. This we are to take with us, and Frank has 
 already received benefit from it. With love to all the dear ones 
 at home, I must bid you farewell. I intend to take my journal 
 with me to New York and mail it from thence.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 " With wild surprise 
 As if to marble struck devoid of sense, 
 A stupid moment motionless she stood." THOMSON. 
 
 Nice, France, Tuesday, December Wth, 1850. 
 
 DEAR MOTHER, After a long, but not tedious voyage, the 
 rood ship " Unicorn," bore us gallantly into the port of Havre, 
 vvhere we arrived on the twenty-eighth of November. 
 
 I could almost see my dear husband gain in flesh and strength, 
 so rapidly did he improve. He walks about now as erect and 
 strong as ever. We tarried but two days in Havre, and then 
 proceeded to this place, where we are comfortably established for 
 1 he winter. That is, we shall be, when we can get our trunks 
 unpacked. 
 
 I don't know but I shall regret not having taken mother Lenox's 
 advice to bring Ann instead of Ruth. The poor girl appears 
 almost demented, as she cannot understand a word of the lan 
 guage ; and whenever I send her to the kitchen to bring water, or 
 anything from thence, I hear a perfect roar of laughter from the 
 borvants at her droll talk and signs. She generally comes back 
 empty handed as she went, rolling her white eyes from side to 
 side, while she sometimes laughs, and sometimes cries at her" poor 
 luck," as she calls it. To-day she came to me in great indignation, 
 saying, " I 'clare, missus, 'pears like I'se could n't bring down my 
 idees to make dem doe heads 'stand anything I'se seb. I'se tink 
 d<-y find dis chile has been brought up in de way to teach dein 
 manners."
 
 334 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 The weather is perfectly delightful. I only wish all the dear 
 ones I love were here to enjoy it with us. It is quite fortunate 
 for me that I have no household cares, for I have a double portion 
 of journalizing. I promised to write mother Lenox, in the same 
 full, free manner, as I have always written to you. And as the 
 same journal will be passed from mother to Emily, and from Emily 
 to Lucy, and from Lucy to somebody else, I must be especially care 
 ful of my style, while in writing to you I merely let my pen travel 
 on at its utmost speed, and with our own poet, 
 
 " I feel a certain tingling come 
 Down to my fingers, and my thumb." 
 
 Perhaps you can imagine, but I cannot describe to you, the 
 thrill of delight which I felt when I first stepped upon terra frma 
 in Havre ; and remembered that though still far from home, and 
 the grave of my dear father ; yet I was in the same hemisphere 
 with yourself and my beloved sisters. 
 
 No ocean rolled between us. 
 
 I was quite amused at a discussion, I overheard between Kelly 
 and Frank, just before I commenced writing. Nelly was earnestly 
 talking of the pleasure she anticipated in going to England, and 
 wishing the time were already come. In both expectation '-and 
 regret, she was cordially joined by her brother. She then pro 
 ceeded to give Frank a particular account of aunt Nelly which 
 could hardly be from memory ; and ended by saying, " I am the 
 most related to her of any of the family." 
 
 This, Frank stoutly denied, saying, " She is as much my aunt 
 as yours." After quite a warm discussion of this interesting point, 
 the disputants agreed to leave it to Ruth, who, after carefully 
 weighing the subject, said in a very gracious tone to Frank, " I 
 'spects, she is, Mass'r Frank. But then 'pears like its you that 's 
 the nearest to mass'r, 'cause your name be like his." I hope 
 Mrs. Colonel Morton will not be unduly elated at the honor to 
 which Nelly aspires.
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 335 
 
 Saturday, December 
 Willi the Doctor's efficient aid, we are now reduced to order ; 
 j nd can find a dress or apron without strewing the floor with the 
 < ontents of three or four trunks. The same hands have driven 
 i p an innumerable number of nails for clothes, of which lluth 
 :ind I have made extempore closets by sewing rings to a sheet, 
 ; nd hanging them in front, so that we have only to put aside our 
 ( urtain, and we are in the inclosure, while coats, dresses, and other 
 c lothes are free from dust. Master Franky has a trunk devoted 
 1 3 him for his toys, and so far thinks it much more convenient than 
 1 is drawers and lockers at home. Another trunk has been 
 j'.ssigned to books, slates and apparatus. School commenced in 
 earnest to-day. 
 
 The Doctor has sent for a piano, that the children may not 
 lose their practice. He also intends Pauline to take lessons on 
 the harp. I am not, as you know, a proficient upon that instru 
 ment. 
 
 I have added to my family a little French girl, daughter of one 
 of tTie peasants, who was very willing to leave her parents for a 
 time, to come to us. Ruth is a very good sempstress ; and I find 
 enough of that employment for her, and in following "mass'r 
 Franky " in his walks of discovery about the town. 
 
 My husband chose this location from the fact of its being so 
 healthy ; and because there is a Protestant church here. Nice is 
 a great resort for invalids. There are quite a number of families 
 here at present. One lady, with her husband, child and servant 
 occupy rooms above ours. Frank intends calling with me on the 
 aged pastor, whom we have not seen except at church. Our 
 landlord speaks of him with the greatest enthusiasm and affection ; 
 and ascribes the peace and prosperity of the place mainly to his 
 influence, and untiring efforts for the good of his people. 
 
 Friday, December 20th. 
 There is very little variety in our life, and I fear, I shall not
 
 336 CORA AND THE DOCTOR ; 
 
 be able to relate much that will interest you. I give six hours a 
 day to the children, while Pauline recites in mathematics and 
 Italian to her father. I wish, dear mother, you could see our 
 Pauline again. She reminds me of an author, who describing a 
 young lady, says, " she is near that age, sixteen, at which every 
 day brings with it some new beauty to her form." No one can be 
 more modest, nor, (which seems wonderful in a woman,) more 
 silent ; yet when she speaks you might believe a muse was speak 
 ing. But then her face, 
 
 " So lovely, yet so arch, so full of mirth, 
 The overflowings of an innocent heart." 
 
 She is silent only when strangers are present. In the company 
 of those she loves, she is all animation, and merriment. Her 
 father says it is a perfect delight to teach her. The remainder 
 of the school hours Frank devotes to reading, which is a real 
 luxury to him, reserving his walks until we can accompany him. 
 
 The Doctor and myself called last evening upon Mr. Percival, 
 whose gray locks, and venerable aspect had already inspired us 
 with respect. He received us with the kindness of a father, and 
 related many incidents connected with his flock which were very 
 pleasing. He has established two schools, one for infant scholars, 
 and another for those more advanced. The infant scholars, how 
 ever, are many of them near a dozen years of age. He accom 
 panied us part of the way on our return to visit an English 
 gentleman, who is very sick and has come here to die. " Perhaps," 
 said the old gentleman, " at some future time, I may communicate 
 some facts relative to his history. His life has been one of no 
 common interest." 
 
 We parted from our companion with regret, having obtained 
 from him a promise to return our call at his earliest convenience. 
 
 Monday, December 23d. 
 This morning an incident occurred, which for want of other
 
 OK, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 337 
 
 ixcitement, has given us a fruitful subject for conversation. Ilav- 
 ng observed a retired spot not far distant from the house where 
 he invalid of whom I spoke was stopping, we turned our steps 
 oward it, and found it to be a family bury ing place containing five 
 graves, upon one of which was a beautifully white marble monu 
 ment, inscribed with the simple word "Imogen." We stood 
 a while to weave each for ourselves a history of this loved one, 
 vhose grave was of the usual size of a fully grown woman. Per- 
 laps she was an only daughter, or a young wife, whose early 
 departure had cast a gloom over a large family. 
 
 Pauline and Nelly who started with us had lingered on the 
 M'ay, and came in sight just as we turned to leave the place, 
 fleeting our good friend, Mr. Percival, we walked on slowly 
 together, leaving them to visit the simple grave. It was nearly 
 j u hour before they returned. The Doctor and I were enjoying 
 !i delightful conversation with our aged friend, who had accom 
 panied us home, when Nelly came bounding into the room, saying, 
 ia an excited tone, " oh, mamma ! " But seeing we were not 
 alone she checked herself, and was introduced together with 
 Pauline to our visitor. I gazed at Pauline with wonder. Her 
 whole countenance was lighted with animation. Her eyes sparkled, 
 and there was the richest bloom upon her cheeks. I saw at a 
 glance that something unusual had occurred, and said inquiringly, 
 " Well, my daughters, have you had a pleasant walk ? " 
 " Very," they replied, and retired from the room. 
 Our visitor had no sooner taken his departure than they came 
 running in, eager to communicate their adventure. 
 
 " Oh, mamma ! " exclaimed Nelly, throwing herself into a chair, 
 " Pauline has had such a scene." 
 
 ' Yes, mamma," said Pauline, " I never expected to create such 
 a sensation as I did soon after you left. I went to the cemetery 
 with Nelly, and after walking around had thrown myself down 
 before the monument marked ' Imogen.' I was imagining my 
 
 29
 
 338 CORA AND THE DOCTOB ; 
 
 own feelings, had the interred been my mother, and thinking if 
 such were the case, how I should love to visit her grave, and 
 plant flowers around it, when J looked up to meet the glance of a 
 young man who was tenderly assisting an old gentleman toward 
 the very spot where I knelt, while in one hand he carried a 
 portable seat. A single glance sufficed to assure me that they 
 were mourners for some beloved friend lying there ; and I sprang 
 up hastily and apologized for my intrusion. The old gentleman 
 had not appeared to observe me until I spoke ; but then he started 
 back as if he had seen a ghost, and would have fallen to the 
 ground had not his companion hastily thrown down the stool, and 
 caught him in his arms. I opened it, and stepping behind them 
 motioned the younger one that it would be better to let him be 
 seated. He put his hand feebly to his head, saying audibly, * Oh, 
 my God ! support me under this.' Then turning to his son, he 
 said, ' Did you see her, Eugene ? ' 
 
 " < Who, father ? ' 
 
 ( "VVhy oh ! I forgot myself. Let us return ; I can't stay here. 
 Perhaps she '11 come back.' 
 
 " ' Dear father, your eyes have deceived you. It was only a 
 young lady who happened to be reading the epitaph upon the 
 tomb stone ;' and he turned to look again at me. 
 
 " I had lost all power of motion, and was so drawn toward 
 father and son, that I had not thought of moving. 
 
 " ' You have been so very anxious,' continued the young man, 
 ' to come here once more, and the air is so balmy to-day, I fear 
 you will not have so favorable an opportunity again.' 
 
 " A deep sigh was the only reply ; and the son took a pocket- 
 handkerchief, and tenderly wiped his father's forehead, as he 
 leaned against his breast. ' Perhaps,' said he, addressing me in 
 French, < you will come around in front of the grave. My father 
 is much agitated at your sudden appearance.' 
 
 " I replied, in English, that I was very sorry for what had
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 339 
 
 happened ; and regretted that I had been led by curiosity to 
 intrude upon their retirement. 
 
 " ' No apology is necessary/ he replied. 
 
 " ' To whom are you talking, Eugene ? ' asked the invalid in a 
 very feeble voice. 
 
 " ' To the lady, you saw, father,' and he made a motion with his 
 hand for me to stand where he could see me. 
 
 " I did so, but no sooner did the old gentleman perceive me, 
 than he started forward holding out both his hands as if to em 
 brace me ; and then with a dreadful groan fell back into the arms 
 of his son. 
 
 " ' Oh ! what can I do for you ? ' I asked in affright. 
 
 " * Fly,' said he, ' to that house,' pointing to the nearest one, 
 and call for help. Stay,' he continued quickly, ' if you could 
 :iold him, I could go quicker.' 
 
 " ' Nelly, I exclaimed, as she came running toward me, after 
 ivandering all over the enclosure, ' Run as quick as you can to 
 1 hat house, and tell the servants their master has fainted by the 
 grave, and they must come directly.' I knew Nelly's skill in 
 running would serve a good purpose on this occasion. I gave 
 j^ugene, as his father called him, my salts, and kneeling down 
 vigorously rubbled the cold hands in mine. 
 
 " ' I cannot account for it,' said he, ' why my father is so much 
 agitated at the sight of you ; but as he is so perhaps it will be as 
 well for you to stand aside when he recovers his consciousness.' 
 
 " In a very short time, Nelly returned in company with a man 
 and woman. The man brought a chair with pillows in it, and in 
 this they speedily placed the unconscious invalid, and carried him 
 away. Eugene merely said, ' I shall see you again,' as he 
 
 Irft." 
 
 My dear mother, you who are acquainted with Pauline's history 
 may judge in some slight degree of our feelings upon hearing of 
 this adventure. I glanced at Frank, who turned very pale, but 
 said nothing. Pauline got up with considerable excitement in her
 
 CORA AND THE DOCTOR ; 
 
 tone, and manner, and stood before a small mirror which hung in 
 the room, saying, " I cannot conceive for whom the old gentleman 
 could have taken me. I 'm sure I don't see as I look like anybody 
 but father." She has often been told of her close resemblance to him. 
 After she had left the room, Frank and I talked over the 
 singularity of the event ; but concluded that we were not called 
 upon to make any inquiries with regard to the old gentleman's 
 agitation, as he is an Englishman, and Pauline was, without doubt, 
 a Tiative of France. He is doubtless the one to whom Mr. 
 Percival alluded in our first interview. 
 
 Tuesday, December 2ith. 
 
 Last night after Pauline's adventure I was so very nervous and 
 excited that I could not sleep. I imagined the most improbable 
 events, until I felt a perfect horror from the possibility that Pau 
 line might be related to these people. I awoke Frank to ask him 
 if he had brought the packet we received with her. 
 
 He replied that he had, but thought it was altogether probable 
 we should carry it back as wise as we came. I told him 1 had 
 not slept, and he quite laughed at me for making so much of a 
 mere accident. He said that my imagination was always running 
 away with me. I tried to think so myself and was soon asleep. 
 
 To-day Mr. Percival came in to invite us to attend service in 
 the chapel to-morrow, (Christmas,) and having sent the children 
 out for a walk, the Doctor asked him the name of the English 
 gentleman who was so ill. 
 
 " Clifford," he replied, hesitating a moment. " Henry Clifford. 
 He is, or was a colonel in the English army." I saw Frank give 
 a sudden start, and then checked himself and went on with the 
 conversation. 
 
 Mr. Percival hinted that domestic trials had brought on prema 
 ture old age ; that after having been for many years separated 
 from his wife, he had come here to die by her grave. " Is it the 
 one marked ( Imogen ? '" I inquired.
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 341 
 
 ' Yes, and the house you see from the spot is where she was born. 
 r "he estate now belongs to her son." 
 
 " Was he an only child ? " I asked, almost gasping in my 
 ( agerness for a reply. 
 
 " There was an infant who died about the same time as its 
 i .other." 
 
 " What was the cause of their separation ? " asked Frank. 
 
 " I never understood sufficiently to relate," he replied in rather 
 a reserved tone ; and feeling entirely relieved from my great 
 burden, I cared not to hear more. When Pauline returned, I 
 somewhat astonished the dear child by the vehemence of my 
 e ubrace. But recollecting myself, I pressed Miss Ellen also in 
 n y arms, that she might not suspect any particular emotion. 
 
 " What has happened, mamma ? " said Pauline, " you look 
 u i usually happy." * 
 
 '< I am so, my dear," 1 could not avoid saying. 
 
 " And lovely too, mamma," giving me another kiss. 
 
 After he left, Frank went to his desk, and taking out the card 
 upon which he had written the name of the gentleman to whom he 
 had been entrusted with the dying confession of Squire Lee, looked 
 earnestly at it, hoping the name was the same. But no, that was 
 Shirley. He said while Mr. Percival was here, the thought that 
 this might be the very man concerning whom he had made so 
 many inquiries, flashed through his mind. It had been so long 
 since he had despaired of learning anything about him that he 
 had forgotten the name. 
 
 Wednesday, December 25th. 
 
 We have had a very quiet Christmas, that is, since Franky has 
 dor, o shouting over the contents of his stocking. Miss Nelly is 
 really growing into a young lady. She came to me last evening, 
 and having drawn me to a part of the room where she was sure 
 her father could not hear, she whispered that she thought she was 
 too eld to hang up a stocking, for she had known a long time who 
 
 29*
 
 842 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 put the presents in it ; and that she would as soon have them 
 given directly to her. 
 
 I laughed so much at the idea of her thinking herself grown 
 up, that her father insisted upon sharing the joke ; and somewhat 
 to the young lady's annoyance, I informed him that she had become 
 too old to be treated like a child. He called her to sit on his 
 knee, and told her he must have her for a baby a long time yet. 
 She was so much better than Franky, who would not sit still a 
 moment. 
 
 But Miss only pouted until he whistled, and held up his gold 
 pencil case for her to play with, then saying, " Baby want to hear 
 papa's watch tick, tick ? " when she " laughed tears," and Pauline 
 came running in to see what caused all the merriment. 
 
 Nelly sprang up from her father's lap, saying, " sister would 
 make a far better baby than i should." 
 
 Pauline went and put her arms lovingly around her father's 
 neck, and said as she laid her cheek against his, " I should be 
 contented to be a baby in this way forever." 
 
 We took our whole family to church, filling up one entire slip. 
 Franky was particularly polite to Ruth, whom he had requested 
 leave to invite to sit with us on this occasion. He took the book 
 of hymns from his sister, and passed it to his sable friend, a kind 
 ness which Ruth fully appreciated. ^ 
 
 A young gentleman about twenty years of age sat near us. I 
 could not avoid noticing that his eyes seldom turned from our 
 pew. He was a fine, frank looking fellow, with light, curly hair, 
 and fair complexion. But his principal beauty was a pair of 
 brilliant eyes ; very bright, but soft and mild in their expression. 
 I saw that Pauline was confused by the young man's ardent gaze, 
 and 1 was surprised as we came out of the aisle to see that she 
 slightly returned his bow. But I had not much time to wonder, 
 before Nelly whispered, " mamma, that 's Pauline's ' Eugene.' 
 I saw by a smile on his countenance that the young man had 
 heard her introduction ; and we were relieved from rather an awk-
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OFwA PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 343 
 
 ward meeting, by Mr. Percival, who inquired about his father, 
 and then introduced him to us. 
 
 Young Clifford represented his father as very feeble, and said 
 it Avould be a great kindness if the Doctor would call and see him. 
 This Frank readily promised to do. As we went the same way 
 the young man walked by Pauline, and did not leave her until we 
 reached our own door. 
 
 Nelly was delighted with him, and her sister frankly said she 
 thought him uncommonly pleasing. 
 
 The Catholic part of the community went early in the day, to 
 their church to attend service, and spent the rest of the time in 
 sports. They are now returning from the visits and places of 
 amusement. Some of them are rather noisy ; but generally they 
 appear weary and fatigued. 
 
 Saturday, December 28t/i. 
 
 Not a day has passed since our introduction to young Clifford, 
 (or Eugene as Nelly insists upon calling him) without our meet 
 ing him either in a walk, or by his coming to our place. The 
 Doctor has also called twice upon Colonel Clifford, who is now 
 constantly confined to his bed. Frank says he is not more than 
 forty-seven years of age, but sorrow has placed a heavy mark 
 upon him. He expressed much pleasure that his son had found 
 friends in our family. I rather think our partial friend, Mr. 
 Percival, has spoken of us in his presence. He is very much 
 depressed in spirits ; and says there are periods of his life, he 
 would give a great deal to be able to live over again. He speaks 
 with the utmost tenderness of his son, and says, " If he were an 
 experimental Christain, I could ask no more. He is everything 
 C'lse the fondest father could desire." 
 
 After this expression the Doctor conversed with him upon 
 religious subjects. "Ah," said the sick man, "what should I 
 have done but for the support of religion ! " He hinted that at 
 times his mental distress had been so great, that if it had not
 
 344 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 been for his religious principles, he fears he should have yielded 
 to the suggestions of the adversary, and have put an end to his 
 life. " But God/' he added, " has mercifully preserved me ; and 
 will preserve me until the end." 
 
 Eugene shares not at all in his father's depression ; but is very 
 lively as well as gentle. He says he has been obliged to act the 
 part of a daughter as well as that of a son, for his father has been 
 an invalid ever since his remembrance. 
 
 
 
 Pauline asked, " How long has your mother been dead ? " 
 He replied, " Many years. I have only a slight recollection of 
 her ; and it is a subject upon which my father never speaks." 
 
 I saw that this remark excited Pauline's compassion. He also 
 noticed it, and made the most of it. I felt really a little jealous 
 of him to-day, she looked up at him with such a simple trust. I 
 must be on the watch. We know so little of him, and there is 
 such a mystery about the family. 
 
 Wednesday, January 1st., 1851. 
 
 I wish you a happy new year, dear mother. Eugene came 
 early this morning with his bright face to wish us the same. He 
 said his father had sent him out for a walk, and he invited Pauline 
 and Nelly to accompany him. I gave my consent, though with 
 some reluctance. The truth is, he is one of those lovely young 
 men, who when they are present carry all before them. Frank 
 took the opportunity to walk over and see his father. 
 
 Colonel Clifford really smiled when told that his son had called 
 and taken off the young ladies for a walk ; but a tear stood in hid 
 eye as he replied, " Eugene has never had an opportunity to be 
 much in the company of ladies. I am very much pleased that he 
 has chosen such society." He again expressed gratitude for our 
 kindness to his poor boy, who would soon be an orphan. The 
 Doctor, at Colonel Clifford's request, prayed with him. After 
 prayer, Frank told him he was a Doctor, not of divinity, but of 
 medicine. lie thought the Colonel was disappointed, but after a
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 345 
 
 moment's silence he replied, " a pious physician has a great op 
 portunity to do good." The Doctor is more and more pleased 
 with him. 
 
 Pauline and Nelly returned in fine spirits from their walk, and 
 repeated to me most of the conversation which had passed. Pau 
 line said their companion had requested them to call him Eugene 
 now that they were so well acquainted ; and also that he was 
 entirely reconciled to the plan of his father's spending the winter 
 here, which he at first thought would be dismal enough. 
 
 I don't think Eugene realizes that probably his father will not 
 live through the winter. 
 
 Thursday, January 2nd. 
 
 Eugene has completely won me over. lie came in to-day and 
 appeared as glad to see us, as if we had not met for a week. He 
 sat down by me in the most artless manner ; and taking a skein 
 of silk from Franky, who was getting it into a sad snarl, said he 
 had a favor to ask of me ; and if I would grant it he should be 
 very happy. 
 
 He looked at me so earnestly, that I told him with a smile, I 
 thought I might venture to promise, if it were nothing very- 
 unreasonable. 
 
 For a moment he cast his eyes down ; and then said with perfect 
 naivete, " I thought of it last night after the conversation here, 
 about my not remembering my mother; and this morning I told 
 father, and he approves it very much if you are willing." 
 
 " You forget," said I, " that you have not yet asked the favor." 
 
 " Well," he resumed, repressing a sigh, You know I have 
 never since my remembrance had a mother. I need one sadly, to 
 tell me when I do wrong. Oh ! " he added, with great emotion, 
 laying the silk on his knee, " I have so longed for a mother, or 
 sister who would watch over me, and take an interest in me, as I 
 have seen mothers and sisters in their sons and brothers." 
 
 I was very much affected by this natural outburst of feeling,
 
 846 CORA AND THE DOCTOR. 
 
 and said, " I will, my son." Hardly conscious of what I did, I 
 leaned forward, and kissed his pure, white brow. 
 
 He grasped my hand, and kneeling, covered it with kisses, 
 while he thanked me in the warmest terms. 
 
 Pauline and Nelly looked on with great interest. " Remember," 
 said the former, as she held out her hand to him, while her eyes 
 were filled with tears, " you have now two sisters and a brother." 
 
 He was then in a great hurry to go and report his success to 
 his father, who he said would be very much pleased. 
 
 Tuesday, January 7th. 
 
 Eugene came over for a few moments last evening to thank me 
 in behalf of his father, and to ask if the Doctor would call upon 
 him in the morning, as there had been some change in his symp 
 toms. 
 
 Frank offered to go at once ; but the young man did not wish 
 it. He went this morning, however, and prescribed a change of 
 medicine. 
 
 Colonel Clifford confessed that he had at first been somewhat 
 disappointed in finding that he was not a clergyman ; but now 
 considered it a very kind providence which had brought a physi 
 cian almost to the very door. He added that now the only anxiety 
 he had had in remaining in Nice was obviated. The Doctor 
 remained and read to him for an hour. "When he left, the Colonel 
 renewed his thanks for our kindness to his dear boy.
 
 CHAPTEE XXXIV. 
 
 " A Mother's love how sweet the name! 
 
 What is a mother's love ? 
 A noble, pure, and tender flame, 
 
 Enkindled from above, 
 To bless a heart of earthly mould 
 The warmest love that can grow cold ; 
 
 This is a mother's love." MONTGOMERY. 
 
 " A malady 
 
 Preys on my heart, that medicine cannot reach, 
 Invincible and cureless." MATUHIX. 
 
 Wednesday, January 29th. 
 
 IT has fallen into a custom that the Doctor should pass a part 
 of every morning with the invalid, while Eugene walks with his 
 sisters, as he fondly calls them. Nelly and Frank have been in 
 with their father to be introduced to the Colonel ; and received 
 from him some valuable curiosities as presents. The next day he 
 sent Pauline a very valuable token of regard, with a message that 
 he fully appreciated the value of such sisters to a young man 
 destitute of any female relative. It is a little singular that while 
 he converses freely on every other subject, and has drawn from 
 the Doctor much of his own history, yet he has never alluded in 
 the most distant manner to the nature of his own peculiar trials. 
 He is much better in health since the change in his medicine, but 
 Frank told him freely that it was not probable the benefit would 
 be permanent. 
 
 The Colonel said he should be sorry to think it otherwise;
 
 348 CORA AND THE DOCTOR ; 
 
 though he supposed he ought to desire to live for the sake of his 
 boy. 
 
 I could hardly have thought it possible that \ve should in so 
 short a time have become so much interested in persons, of whose 
 existence even we were till now ignorant. Eugene is a very 
 dutiful son, and has evidently been trained with the greatest care 
 by his pious father. He repeats over and over again the names 
 of mother and sisters, as if he revelled in the very idea of having 
 such relatives. He told me that one day he called me by the 
 name of mamma in his father's presence, when a look of agony 
 passed like a shade over his face ; but in one moment, with a 
 faint smile, he said, " I thank God, my son, that you have found a 
 mother, even in name." 
 
 Wednesday, February 12th. 
 
 When the Doctor visited Colonel Clifford this morning, he 
 found him busily engaged in writing, which he immediately put 
 aside, saying, " I have nearly finished the preparation of some 
 papers which I wish at my death to put into the hands of my 
 son." 
 
 The Doctor was about to leave ; but the Colonel insisted on 
 his remaining, as he wished to introduce a particular subject of 
 conversation. He began by saying, "I have not inquired so 
 particularly about the American colleges without an object. If in 
 what I say, you consider me as taking advantage of your kind 
 ness, both to me and my boy, I must beg the same indulgence to 
 excuse it." He then, assured by Frank's sincerely expressed 
 wish to be of service to him, went on to say, " when I die, Eugene 
 will have no friend or near relative, from whom he has a right (o 
 claim sympathy and kindness. I have often prayed that some 
 friend might be raised up, with whom I could feel safe to confide, 
 both his spiritual and temporal interests. I have thought," he 
 added, while a tear trickled down his emaciated cheek, " that 
 perhaps God had answered my prayers, and sent you here to be 
 that friend."
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 349 
 
 Frank took the wasted hand in his as he replied, " I shall feel 
 honored in being considered as such." 
 
 " But do you fully understand my meaning ? " he was eagerly 
 asked. " Eugene has more than enough property, and it is well 
 funded ; but he needs a home, and kind friends to watch over him ; 
 just what every young man needs." 
 
 " Perhaps you are not aware," replied the Doctor, " that we 
 intend returning to the United States in a few months." 
 
 " I am fully so ;' but Eugene has no particular attachments to 
 England ; that is, when I am gone, and he would gladly accom 
 pany you. Do not give me an answer to-day. Consult your 
 family, and let me know hereafter ; and may the Lord incline 
 your heart to do according to my desire ! " He held the Doctor's 
 hand convulsively in his, as he said this, and appearing to be much 
 fatigued by the exciting nature of the interview, Frank took 
 leave. 
 
 It was an interesting subject for us, during our long walks ; and 
 after being interrupted for a time, was extended far into the night. 
 My husband fully realized that the care would fall upon me ; his 
 professional duties so fully occupy his time at home. Then the 
 iniluence upon our children, we felt it to be our duty to consider. 
 I frankly confessed to the Doctor that I had never seen a young 
 man whom I could more readily take to my heart as a son ; and 
 that I knew Pauline and Nelly, as well as Frank, would be 
 delighted with this addition to our family. 
 
 " What is the drawback, then ? I see there is something you 
 do not bring to the light." 
 
 I could at first give no reply. There was a drawback ; but it 
 seemed to me so selfish that I could not endure to mention it. It 
 was the fear that Eugene would love my Pauline with a love 
 surpassing that of a brother, and that she would return his love. 
 At length I replied, " no, nothing that need to be a drawback ; 
 only I thought that perhaps it might be dangerous to place young 
 people at the age he and Pauline are, in such intimate connection." 
 
 30
 
 350 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 " Ah," Said he, laughing, " I might have guessed Pauline was at 
 the bottom of all your trouble. For a girl, good and obedient as 
 she is, she has occasioned you great anxiety. Even if such an 
 event should happen, which I will acknowledge is very probable, 
 you will have the training of him, and you can educate him to suit 
 yourself, instead of training her for a wife for cousin Joseph as he 
 proposed. Eugene appears to be a very pure minded young 
 man. Like our children, he has been educated at home ; and that 
 is one reason of his father's regret and anxiety. He knows 
 nothing of the world, and is as ignorant as a child of the wicked 
 ness he will have to meet, and therefore liable to be led away. 
 I have tried to think what I should wish were I in his place, and 
 have concluded with your consent, and full approbation to accept 
 the chare." 
 
 Friday, February 
 
 I had never seen Colonel Clifford until yesterday morning, 
 when I went with the Doctor to tell him of our willingness to take 
 Eugene into our family, if the young man's wishes in that respect 
 corresponded with his father's. 
 
 He answered our light knock for admittance, after a moment ; 
 and I could see that he had been weeping. But he held out his 
 hand as he feebly seated himself ; and with a smile, said, " it 
 argues well for me, Doctor, that you have brought your lady." 
 
 We took seats near him, and I could see that lie waited will/ 
 trembling impatience for us to speak upon the subject nearest his 
 heart. The Doctor said, " we have come in to express our wil 
 lingness to accede to your wishes in regard to your son." 
 
 The Colonel exhibited great emotion, and with a beautiful 
 smile of trust in his heavenly Father which illumined every 
 feature, he said with closed eyes, " My God, J thank thee ! " After 
 a short pause he turned to me, " my dear madam, let me hear you 
 say you will be a mother to my motherless boy." 
 
 The last words were uttered with difficulty, as if he had not
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIPE. 351 
 
 been used to uttering the word." Mother." I replied, " with God's 
 help, I will." 
 
 He covered his face with his hand, and wept long ; but his 
 tears seemed to be soothing instead of exciting him. We waited 
 for his agitation to subside, while the Doctor rose and walked to 
 the window, and my tears flowed in sympathy with his. 
 
 " You are Christian parents," were his first words, " and with 
 such I need no excuse for my tears." Then becoming more 
 composed, he said, " the burden which has weighed heavily upon 
 me for many years is gone. God has graciously answered me, " 
 he broke down again ; but instantly resumed, " Doctor, will you 
 express my thanks ? " 
 
 He rose feebly, and kneeled by his chair ; and though I could 
 hear the sobs bursting from his overflowing heart, he arose com 
 posed, and refreshed. 
 
 The Doctor endeavored to change the conversation for a few 
 moments ; but he smiled as he said, " I perceive your kind inten 
 tion, but I can at present think of nothing else. It will not injure 
 me." 
 
 \In the course of the interview he said that for many yeai-s he 
 had been longing to go home ; but for the sake of his son, he had 
 taken every measure to prolong his life. " Eugene's," he added, 
 " is a singular case. I am not aware that he has a single relative 
 on his mother's side ; and none nearer than two or three removes 
 on mine. He has a lovely disposition, though perhaps I may be 
 deemed partial in saying so." 
 
 " His adopted mother says the same," I added. 
 
 With an ardent expression of gratitude, he continued, " but his 
 yielding temper only leaves him more at the mercy of a cold cruel 
 world. Oh ! how many hours of sorrow I have spent in imagin 
 ing hjs future, and fearing he might be left to suffer like his father. 
 Eugene remembers little or nothing of his early life. I have 
 never been able to converse with him upon subjects connected 
 with his " The voice was so low I could not distinguish the rest
 
 352 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 of the sentence. " I have prepared," he added, " some papers 
 which throw light upon some subjects, which it is natural -and 
 right, he should know at a proper age. I should be glad to leave 
 them in your hands when I go, with the request that he should 
 have them when he attains his majority. I should also be glad, 
 if Eugene were so inclined, to have him keep this small estate, 
 that the cemetery may not be molested. The steward, who has 
 lived in it for many years, would be glad to continue in it, and 
 give him a suitable rent for the house and furniture. One thing 
 more, and I shall have done for this morning. I fear that I have 
 already taxed you too long. I wish a small monument in every 
 respect like the one in yonder grave yard, placed above my remains, 
 with the single word ' Harry ' inscribed upon it. I have already 
 given directions to have my body placed by her side. Now," said 
 he, "receive once more the gratitude of a father, who perceives 
 in your pledge of kindness to his son, a new proof of forgiveness 
 and assurance of pardon and love from his heavenly Father. 
 
 Friday, February 21st. 
 
 For several days I have spent much of my time with Colonel 
 Clifford, who after our interview respecting his son, appeared to 
 fail rapidly. On Monday morning the Doctor and I called, and 
 Eugene took the opportunity to go out for his exercise. " Dr. 
 Lenox," said the invalid, " there is one subject, I inadvertently 
 omitted at our late interview, and which I may as well mention at 
 this time. My name is not Henry Clifford, as you suppose, but 
 Henry Clifford Shirley." 
 
 Frank sprang to his feet, and was on the point of catching his 
 friend by the hand, but remembering the feebleness of the Colonel, 
 and the danger to him of any sudden excitement, he resumed his 
 seat. 
 
 " It is entirely immaterial to me which name Eugene retains," 
 said he, not appearing to have noticed anything unusual in the 
 Doctor's manner, " but as all his property stands registered in the 

 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 353 
 
 name of Shirley, it was highly desirable that you should be aware 
 of the fact." 
 
 Frank walked back and forth across the room evidently very 
 much perplexed how to introduce the communication he wished to 
 make. At length he sat down by the side of the sufferer, and 
 gently said, " Colonel Clifford, many years ago I received a con 
 fession from a dying man in relation to a gentleman by the name 
 of Henry Shirley, who was a Colonel in his Majesty's service. 
 I have endeavored in vain to find such a gentleman, in order to 
 confide the confession to him, according to the desire of the 
 penitent man." 
 
 Colonel Clifford appeared much agitated, but at length said, 
 " To what did it relate ? " 
 
 " To certain anonymous letters written to him while abroad, in 
 India, I think he said, with a regiment of the government troops. 
 Shall I go on ? " 
 
 With his handkerchief to his eyes the sick man bowed assent. 
 " As nearly as I can recollect," added Frank, " the gentleman, 
 who was a townsman of mine, met your wife while on a foreign 
 tour, and made proposals to her which she indignantly refused. 
 In order to revenge himself, he wrote to you intimating her guilt 
 in connection with another gentleman." 
 
 The distressed man with a dreadful groan fell forward, and 
 would have fallen to the floor had not the Doctor caught him in 
 his arms. He motioned to me to ring the bell, and with the help 
 of a servant who appeared, laid the unconscious man upon the 
 bed. It was some time before he recovered, and when he did, he 
 looked so death-like, that we feared the excitement would termi 
 nate his life. I remained until he fell asleep, and then quietly 
 left him with the Doctor. 
 
 When Frank returned, he said that the Colonel did not allude 
 to the exciting subject of the interview until just before he left, 
 and then said to him, " I am not equal to continuing the conver 
 sation. I have written all that is necessary to my son " he 
 
 30*
 
 354 CORA AND THE DOCTOR ; 
 
 could go no farther. Since that time the subject has never been 
 alluded to. A holy peace has taken the place of the melancholy 
 expression of his countenance ; and he hails with delight every 
 fresh symptom of dissolution. He said yesterday, " God has 
 granted me delightful views of heaven, and the honor and glory 
 of the Saviour, who is the chief among ten thousand, and the one 
 altogether lovely. Oh," he exclaimed in a rapture, " Eternity 
 will be too short to praise him who has redeemed my guilty 
 soul." 
 
 This morning he is much revived, and asked the Doctor to 
 pray that he might be ready and waiting, but not be impatient for 
 the coming of the bridegroom. Eugene is tender, and affectionate 
 as a daughter, in his attentions. It often makes the tears start to 
 my eyes, as I witness the look of unuttered love which beams 
 from the eye of the sufferer upon his devoted son. Every day 
 he insists that Eugene shall take exercise in the open air ; but 
 this I fear he would be reluctant to do if it were not for the com 
 pany of his sisters. When released from the sick room he bounds 
 like a young doe to our door and calls them for a walk. 
 
 Pauline has often accompanied him to the grave of his mother. 
 To-day he requested me to do so ; when the others were about to 
 follow, with his usual frankness he said, " no, dear Pauline, I 
 want to walk with mamma alone. As we passed his house, he 
 ran in and brought out the stool. When we reached the grave, 
 he said as he placed the seat near by, " Dear mamma, I have 
 chosen this place to make a disclosure to yon, that if I have done 
 wrong, the thought that my own mother Las long been lying here, 
 and that the simple word ' Imogen,' is all I have of her memory, 
 may incline your heart to forgive." 
 
 I was very much affected. " Dear Eugene," I said, " I needed 
 not the influence of this sacred spot in order to do that. I have 
 said that you were to me as a son." 
 
 " Oh ! let me be indeed a son," he exclaimed, throwing himself 
 on the ground before me. " I love my sister Pauline. I love
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OP A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 355 
 
 her with an intensity of which I have but lately become aware. 
 Tell me that I have not done wrong ; that you and the Doctor 
 approve my love ; and I shall be forever grateful." 
 " Does Pauline know of this ? " I asked. 
 
 " Oh no ! " he answered, " of course, I could say nothing with 
 out your consent, we are both young. I will wait years, 
 you shall set the time for our marriage, if you will only give 
 me leave to love her, and she will consent." 
 
 He uttered all this so rapidly, and so earnestly, I had not time 
 to think. 
 
 " You do not answer," said he, repressing a sigh ; " you do not 
 say you forgive me for having unconsciously loved her. Remem 
 ber," said he, rising and standing sorrowfully before me, " remem 
 ber that I have had no mother to teach me to control my feelings," 
 and he pointed sadly to the grave. 
 
 " I do remember," I said, taking his hand. " You are a noble, 
 honorable youth, to tell me your feelings so frankly. I do not 
 love you less, that you love my Pauline ; but this is a serious 
 subject ; there are many things to be considered, and I must 
 consult the Doctor." 
 
 He pressed his lips upon my hand. " Thank you," said he, 
 " that you do not deny me at once. Be assured I will not betray 
 my feelings to her until you give me leave." 
 
 As we passed his house on our return, I asked if he had con 
 versed with his father upon the subject. 
 He blushed as he replied that he had. 
 " And what was his wish ? " 
 
 " He smiled when I told him, and said he thought us rather 
 young ; but said he had the most implicit confidence in you and 
 the Doctor. But I determined at once, that the only honorable 
 course for me to pursue, was to tell you all." 
 
 " Well, my son," I answered, " 1 shall have great hopes that 
 you will be a useful man, if you cany out all your determinations 
 as well as in this case."
 
 356 CORA. AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 When we drew near the house, I saw Pauline watching us 
 from the window. Eugene asked in a low voice, " when may I 
 hope for an answer from you ? " 
 
 " I will walk Avith you again to-morrow," I answered. 
 
 He turned away with merely a bow to Pauline, and returned to 
 his father. I have come to my room to wait for Frank's return. 
 I think notwithstanding what he said, he will be astonished that 
 his daughter has been sought in marriage at so early a day. But 
 Eugene is a noble, ingenuous youth ; what can I ask more, except 
 that he may be a humble Christian ? 
 
 Saturday, February 2'2nd. 
 
 Frank returned yesterday, with a letter long expected, and 
 waited for, from cousin Joseph Morgan, who says, owing to the 
 protracted absence of one of the firm, he has not been able to 
 leave Paris ; but hopes now to be with us in a few days, Avhen he 
 intends by a long visit to make up for this tedious delay. 
 
 When we had read and discussed the letter, I asked Frank to 
 prepare himself for some important business. Seeing I was in 
 earnest he sat down at once, and I related what had passed. 
 
 " Really," said he, " Eugene has well improved his time. I 
 wonder how Pauline feels. I never saw any particular evidence 
 of affection on her part. Now I always expected that when she 
 felt young Cupid's dart, she would do pretty much as you did 
 under similar circumstances, blush up to her eyes every time 
 his name was mentioned, and always be out of the way just when 
 she was wanted. Come, come, I did n't mean to set you at it 
 again ; but," 
 
 " Tell me the charms that lovers seek 
 In the clear eye and blushing cheek, 
 The hues that play 
 O'er rosy lips, and brow of snow. 
 Ah ! where are they ? " 
 
 " I have seen nothing of all this in Pauline, but there's no such
 
 OK, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 357 
 
 thing as calculating all the intricacies of a woman's heart. I 've 
 given up ever since Emily's labarynthian course in refusing a 
 man whom she dearly loved." 
 
 " Perhaps she had no idea of such a termination to his intro 
 duction to the family ; and probably is not aware of the state of 
 her own feelings." 
 
 I determined, however, to sound her upon the subject before 1 
 met Eugene again. During the evening, I made an excuse for 
 calling her to my room, that I would read her Joseph's letter, after 
 which I desired some conversation with her. " Here comes 
 Frank's proof," I said to myself as a rosy hue mantled to her very 
 brow ; but she immediately said, she would run to her room for 
 her crotcheting, and then return. 
 
 " I don't know," said I, when she had taken her seat, " as you 
 remember much of your cousin ; you have not seen him for a 
 number of years." 
 
 " Oh, yes, mamma ! don't you recollect the visit he made us 
 before he came to France ? " 
 
 " I had indeed forgotten it, my love ; but he is soon to be here," 
 and I read her the letter. She said nothing, and I proceeded to 
 talk of Eugene. She raised her eyes at once, as if much inter 
 ested. "You have now had sufficient opportunity to become 
 acquainted with him ; are you still pleased that he is to be one 
 of us?" 
 
 " Certainly, mamma. I love him very much, and should be 
 disappointed if anything should occur to prevent it. Do you 
 know of anything ? " she asked eagerly. 
 
 " No," I answered, fully assured of Eugene's success if it 
 rested with her. 
 
 This morning, the dear fellow came in at an unusually early 
 hour, and requested me to accompany him. He tried not to look 
 at Pauline, for fear he should be violating his promise to me. I 
 pointed to the time-piece, showing him it was an hour earlier than
 
 358 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 common, and he made rather a blundering excuse. I hastened, 
 however, to my room, and the Doctor followed me to the stairs, 
 saying in a whisper, " do go quick, and put the poor soul out of 
 misery. Don't you see how he is suffering ? I know how to feel 
 for him." 
 
 As I came down equipped for the walk, Pauline said in an arch 
 tone, " how long are you intending to be so exclusive in your 
 walks ? " ' 
 
 Eugene started toward her, and began to say something, but 
 stopped very much confused, and I hurried him away. I need 
 not tell you what I said, indeed I don't remember. It is sufficient 
 that he was more than satisfied with the permission to ask her to 
 return his love, and then wait until we should be willing for them 
 to marry. He cut short our walk, and turned back to the house. 
 As we reached the door, I looked up to see a group of heads 
 
 
 
 making themselves very merry at our expense. But I took it 
 very calmly, and walked in, requesting Pauline to take my place. 
 She called Nelly ; but I told her Nelly must practise her 
 music. 
 
 It was rather more than an hour before they returned. The 
 Doctor was watching for them with no little impatience, and 
 curiosity. Pauline came in leaning upon her lover's arm, who 
 looked perfectly delighted, and walked directly across the room, 
 kissing me, and then her father. 
 
 Frank was astonished, and said almost audibly, "pretty cool, 
 that ! I never could have believed it." 
 
 Eugene was too much excited to keep still, and calling her to 
 the door, begged her to go with him to his father. But she 
 preferred to postpone it until another day. Soon after he left, I 
 went to my room, and Pauline soon followed. " Well, my love," 
 I said, " I suppose I hardly need ask you what answer you gave 
 Eugene, he looked so happy." 
 
 " Yes, mamma, I told him I loved him very much, but that I
 
 OK, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 359 
 
 thought I was too young to engage myself; and I had never thought 
 of him in that light." 
 
 " And was he satisfied ? " 
 
 " Yes, mamma, he thanked me many times, and said he should 
 try to make me very happy." Pauline sat down, and her eyes 
 grew dreamy, so I left her to her meditations and went below.
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 " Ah me ! from real happiness we stray, 
 By vice bewildered; vice which always leads, 
 However fair at first, to wilds of wo." THOMSON. 
 
 Tuesday, March 4th. 
 
 JOSEPH came two days ago, accompanied by a young lady, 
 Mademoiselle Vinet, or Adele, as Joseph calls her. He went 
 directly with her to her uncle's, who lives about forty leagues 
 from here, and then returned to this place. We were much 
 rejoiced to see our dear cousin. He has proved all that his 
 parents could wish. I was very glad to hear him say that he 
 hopes to be able to return to the United States nearly as soon as 
 we do. He longs for home. 
 
 Joseph accompanied the Doctor and myself in a walk, and 
 communicated to us some very sad intelligence. About three 
 months ago, a servant from one of the hotels in Paris called at his 
 office requesting him to go and see a young woman who was sick. 
 Wondering not a little who she could be, he went, and was shown 
 up one flight of stairs after another until he reached a most dreary 
 and desolate apartment, destitute of every comfort; and there, 
 upon a miserable pallet, he beheld, to his surprise, his once 
 beautiful cousin Fidelia Schuyler. She was anxiously expecting 
 him, and exceedingly overcome by his presence and kindness. He 
 wished to remove her to a more comfortable and respectable 
 apartment, to provide her a good nurse, and to do everything in 
 his power for her relief.
 
 REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 361 
 
 But she said, "I have only a few hours to live. Even now I 
 am dying. All I ask is, that you will remain near me while I 
 live." 
 
 Joseph was affected even to tears as he related the heart-rending 
 agony of Fidelia, while she reviewed .the last few years of her 
 life. " Ever since I left your house, years ago, though 1 have 
 lived a gay life, in the midst of fashion and luxury," she said, " I 
 have never known happiness, for I have lived a life of sin. I 
 am known here as Mrs. Arnold, having been his companion ever 
 since my husband, incited almost to madness by my wicked con 
 duct, abandoned me. For three weeks, William has not been near 
 me. Leaving me only a few dollars, he deserted me ; and since 
 his departure I have been removed to this garret, and have 
 pawned almost every article of my clothing and of jewelry to 
 procure for myself even the necessaries of life. Do you remem 
 ber," she asked, " the wicked attempt I made to stir up jealousy 
 and strife between Frank and his young wife ? Oh ! how I hated 
 her, when I saw that with his whole soul he observed her every 
 movement and word ! He worshipped the very ground on which 
 she trod. But I have suffered the keenest remorse for my conduct. 
 \ have been constantly tortured with jealousy since I lived with 
 William, and with fear lest he should leave me to die alone in a 
 jtrange land." 
 
 Several times Joseph tried to soothe and comfort her as she lay 
 panting for breath, and sinking farther back upon her pillows. 
 But she could talk of nothing else. " Oh ! " said she, " if I had 
 borne with my husband as I have had to bear with William, how 
 happy we might have been ! I have been obliged to curb my 
 temper, and to be a slave to one who has indeed proved to be a 
 hard master." 
 
 Joseph endeavored to point her to the Saviour. At first, she 
 was unwilling to hear a word on the subject, and begged him not to 
 waste his breath ; but at length, as he earnestly pointed her to the 
 Lamb of God, able, willing and ready to save to the uttermost all 
 
 31
 
 362 CORA AND THE DOCTOR. 
 
 who come unto God by him, she burst into tears, and even besought 
 him to pray with her. He did so ; and after remaining with her 
 about three hours, he went out and obtained a good woman to 
 take care of her so long as she lived. He supposed from her 
 appearance that she was not so near her end as she imagined. 
 He made his arrangements to return and to watch with her in 
 company with her nurse during the night. After an hour he 
 returned to her room, and was surprised at the alteration which 
 had taken place. She was evidently dying. 
 
 Now her whole life stood out before her, and she trembled at 
 the idea of appearing in the presence of a holy God. Joseph 
 prayed with her repeatedly. He wept as he implored her to cast 
 her burden of sin and fear upon the Saviour. She listened as for 
 her life, but could only cry out " too late ! too late !! " This 
 dreadful lament she continued until near midnight, when Joseph 
 read to her a few passages from the Bible, on the abounding of 
 divine mercy toward the chief of sinners, and renewed his exhorta 
 tion to her to repent and believe, saying, " turn ye, turn ye, for 
 why will ye die ? " 
 
 " Oh ! If I could live only one hour more !" and as the 
 words were on her quivering lips, her countenance changed, her 
 eyes were fixed, her spirit departed !
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 " I feel death rising higher still, and higher 
 Within my bosom ; every breath I fetch 
 Shuts up my life within a shorter compass : 
 And like the vanishing sound of bells, grows less 
 And less each pulse, till it be lost in air." DKYDEN. 
 
 " Death 's but a path that must be trod, 
 If man would ever pass to God." PAKNELL. 
 
 Wednesday, March 5th. 
 
 I AM really pained by Pauline's conduct toward her cousin. 
 She shuns him as much as possible. He feels it too. He always 
 manifested so much interest in her ; but she avails herself of 
 every excuse to walk with Eugene, and avoids seeing Joseph. I 
 can perceive that he is grieved, but though he often gazes at her 
 with a sad, inquiring expression, he does not speak. I have never 
 known her to be rude ; but I felt it my duty to speak with her 
 to-day upon the subject. I am afraid I spoke too sternly, for she 
 immediately burst into tears. She made no excuse, only saying, 
 " I can't help it, mamma." 
 
 " Your cousin," I said, " has not deserved such treatment. He 
 has always, since you Avere a baby, taken a great interest in you ; '' 
 and I related his kindness in taking her to ride on horseback, and 
 many other events, which I was surprised to find she remembered. 
 
 But still she said nothing; and only cried the more. I don't 
 know what to make of her. 
 
 " Sometimes deep feeling hides itself in silence."
 
 364: CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 But I think she has had too much excitement of late, notwith 
 standing she appeared so calm. When the bell rang for tea, she 
 begged me to excuse her from going down, and to tell Eugene, 
 when he called, that she was not able to go with him to his father 
 as he had proposed. 
 
 " Are you ill, my dear," I asked. 
 
 " I have a very bad head-ache, which will be well by morn 
 ing." 
 
 Joseph went out this morning early for a walk, and returned 
 just as I was called to breakfast. Pauline was jn the room, and 
 he went directly to her, expressing his pleasure at seeing her 
 down again. He took her hand in his, and said, " I am deeply 
 pained by seeing that you have forgotten all your former friend 
 ship for me." He then assured her, she should always have a 
 warm friend in him. 
 
 Notwithstanding I had thought her wrong, I really pitied the 
 poor girl's confusion. She did not once raise her eyes ; but blush 
 ed painfully as she withdrew her hand when he had ceased 
 speaking. I pitied Joseph, too. He came to me soon after break 
 fast, and asked me to walk with him, when he immediately enter 
 ed upon the subject, saying he had never been so disappointed in 
 a young person, so artless and frank as she used to be. He then 
 asked if Eugene were a suitable companion for her, fearing it was 
 his influence that had so changed her for the worse. 
 
 I assured him it was not. Then feeling that from his long 
 friendship for us, he had a right to be treated with confidence, I 
 told him in what relation they stood to each other. Though I 
 could sec plainly that he was displeased, I commenced at their 
 singular introduction, and told him all that had passed between 
 Colonel Clifford and the Doctor. He listened with the profouml- 
 est interest, but did not interrupt me until I had done. 
 
 " How did you account for the agitation of Colonel Clifford ? " 
 he asked. v 
 
 " Oh ! a thousand ways," I replied. " He has been an invalid
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 365 
 
 for many years ; and her sudden appearance would account for it 
 in a great measure." 
 
 " Perhaps so," he answered in a doubting tone ; " but he evi 
 dently supposed her to be a near friend." 
 
 " Yes," said I, "there is no accounting for the freaks of nature 
 in these close resemblances. I should be struck any where by 
 her resemblance to Frank ; yet you know there is no connection." 
 
 " She must have a singular countenance," he replied, " I no 
 ticed yesterday a strong likeness to young Clifford. Does she 
 know of the circumstances connected with her early history ? " 
 
 Not a word of it." 
 
 "Nor Clifford?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Then, my dear cousin, I tell you frankly, I think in this in 
 stance you arid the Doctor have erred certainly you have not 
 acted with your usual frankness." 
 
 I made many excuses which had been satisfactory to my own 
 mind. He said no more, but only shook his head. 
 
 When we received Joseph's letter, I thought him the same 
 light-hearted, merry fellow as of old ; but I find he has grown 
 very grave. I was a little troubled at what he said, and on con 
 versing with Frank, I find that he is of the same opinion, that we 
 ought at least to communicate the circumstances to Colonel Clif 
 ford, if we do not'chpose to tell Pauline. But Frank says since 
 talking with Mr. Percival, and finding that he had no other child, 
 he felt relieved of all doubt in relation to their connection. But 
 though the thought of it makes me almost sick, I intend to-mor 
 row to do what I know will give exquisite pain to Pauline, by 
 telling her she is my child only by adaption. 
 
 Saturday, March 8th. 
 
 If my poor head will allow, I will try to give you an account 
 of the events of the last three days. But I have suffered so much 
 I really shrink from recurring to the subject. 
 
 31*
 
 366 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 In pursuance of my resolution to make the painful disclosure 
 to Pauline, I made necessary arrangements to be free from inter 
 ruption, as I feared the dear child's feelings would overcome her ; 
 and as I was far from intending that Nelly or Frank should 
 know it at present, I did not wish unnecessarily to excite their 
 curiosity. If the dear child were to know it at all, I preferred she 
 should hear it first from me ; and having procured the locket and 
 package, I called her to my room, and went through the story as 
 if -I were relating the history of another person, and as briefly as 
 justice to my subject would allow ; but my great agitation, which 
 I could not avoid becoming apparent, must have made her sus 
 pect that I referred to herself. She looked me full in the face, 
 her eyes more and more dilated until she turned deadly pale. I 
 became frightened that she did not give way to her feelings, and 
 stopped, when she said in the most heart-broken tone I ever 
 heard, " Then I am not your Pauline, mamma ? " and leaned her 
 head heavily on her hand. 
 
 I pressed her to my heart, and told her that she never was 
 dearer to me than at present ; that she was my first, and I had 
 almost said, my dearest child. 
 
 But this has been a dreadful shock to the poor girl, who seems 
 now to feel that she has no claim upon us. I talked with her a 
 long time, telling her that I had never intended she should know 
 of this ; but that her father thought it dishonorable not to tell her 
 or Eugene ; and that I felt she ought to hear it from me. 
 
 " I think it would have killed me," she replied, " to have heard 
 it even from father." After a moment she added mournfully, 
 " may I still call you mamma ? " when her pent up feelings burst 
 forth with such violence as I have never witnessed. She wept 
 and sobbed until her whole frame shook with emotion. 
 
 " My love, my own Pauline, you will break my heart if you do 
 so. Our love is the same ; it can undergo no change. My affec 
 tion for you has been so selfish, that it has been my only fear with 
 regard to you, that some one would claim you as their child ; or
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 3G7 
 
 as lias happened, that some one would win your love from your 
 mother." 
 
 " Oh, mamma," said she joyfully, " I Avill give him up. I 
 understood it was your wish. Indeed I told Eugene I did not 
 wish him to consider it an engagement. We are too young." 
 
 " Dearest Pauline, I only told you to show you how strong was 
 my affection for you." 
 
 After two hours, during which time I had but partially succeeded 
 in calming her excited feelings? I showed her the locket, which 
 affected her exceedingly, as also the letter from her mother to the 
 servant. She held the tiny robe in her hand, while her tears fell 
 hot and fast upon it. I told her that on no account would I allow 
 Nelly and Franky to be made aware of what had passed. 
 
 " I shall tell Eugene ? " she said inquiringly. 
 
 " If you think it best, love." 
 
 " Of course, I only meant whether you or I should tell him. 
 lie asked what I considered strange questions the second time I 
 saw him. But I thought it would only pain you to hear them, so 
 I did not repeat what he said. He asked if I had ever been 
 abroad before. I told him " no." He then asked if I were nearly 
 connected with this family, when I laughed and told him, ' my 
 resemblance to father was proof of that fact.' He apologized, and 
 said he had only asked me to satisfy his father." She took the 
 locket, putting the chain around her neck, and bidding me good 
 night, left me. 
 
 But it was a sleepless night to both of us. The questions of 
 Eugene, to satisfy his father, the doubts of Joseph were 
 constantly recurring to me. Frank comforted me by saying I 
 had done right in telling her what I had. After midnight I crept 
 softly to her room, shading the lamp with my hand, and found her 
 eyes wide open. She had thrown her arm over her sleeping 
 sister, and had vainly tried to sleep. 
 
 " I have been trying to think who I am, mamma," said she in a 
 sad voice.
 
 368 COKA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 " You are my own darling, Pauline," I said, kissing her again 
 and again. 
 
 " She looks happy and kind," alluding to the picture, " but how 
 could she give me up so ? " 
 
 I begged her to try to sleep, and returned to my bed to make 
 the same effort. The next morning she did not go down to break 
 fast, merely took a cup of coffee in her room ; but begged me to 
 let her know when Eugene came in. I did so, when she instantly 
 came down to him equipped for a walk. 
 
 I attempted to remonstrate, fearing she was not well enough ; 
 but she said, " please, mamma," in so sad a voice, I could say no 
 more. 
 
 It was nearly noon. Joseph had two or three times volunteered 
 to go in search of Pauline, for whom I felt great anxiety, when a 
 man came running, breathless with speed, begging me to go to 
 Colonel Clifford. He was dying. 
 
 I was on my way in a moment, Joseph attending me to the 
 door. How can I describe to you what I saw ? In order to make 
 it intelligible, I must relate what the Doctor and Pauline afterwards 
 told me. As soon as they started on their walk, she communicated 
 to Eugene the circumstances I had related to her ; and insisted 
 that he should, without delay, make them known to his lather, 
 saying, " perhaps he will withdraw his consent when he hears that 
 I am a foundling." 
 
 Eugene spurned the idea, as unworthy either of him or his father, 
 and protested that he only loved her the better. He earnestly 
 implored her to go with him, to which she reluctantly consented. 
 He found the Doctor by the bed side, and leaving his beloved in 
 the next room, he went in. Having requested the Doctor to 
 remain, he went on to tell his father briefly that Pauline was only 
 an adopted child of Dr. Lenox, and that she would not consent to 
 their betrothal until he were, made aware of the circumstances, 
 and had given his consent. 
 
 " Tell her, my son, that can make no difference in our feelings.
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 369 
 
 Bring her to me, I will tell her so." Eugene led her in ; but no 
 sooner did he see her, than he started forward as if to take her 
 in his arms, and then with a loud scream fell back upon the 
 pillows. 
 
 The Doctor and Eugene sprang forward in affright to raise him, 
 and threw water in his face, when he gasped for breath, and 
 pointing his thin finger to where Pauline stood, tried to speak, but 
 lor a moment was unable. " Eugene," at length he gasped out, 
 " she is your sister, Inez," and fainted. 
 
 Pauline, intensely surprised, and agitated, darted forward, and 
 kissed the face, brow and lips of the unconscious man, crying, 
 " Oh ! father, bless me before you die." 
 
 When he opened his eyes, her sweet voice was pleading for a 
 blessing. A heavenly smile lit up his face, as he said, " Imogen, 
 my own Imogen, I do bless thee, sweet wife ! " He thought her 
 his lost Imogen. But he soon knew her, and called her his beloved 
 daughter Inez, whom he now saw for the first time. She turned 
 from him to Eugene, who sat bitterly weeping with his head buried 
 in his dying father's pillow ; and putting her arms tenderly about 
 his neck, said, " be comforted, dear Eugene, you have gained a 
 sister." 
 
 The Doctor administered a cordial to the Colonel, who he saw 
 was fast failing ; and had sent for me. 
 
 When I entered the room, the dying man was passionately 
 kissing the little miniature contained in the locket ; and from that, 
 as well as his instant recognition of the writing of his wife in the 
 letter, there is no longer any doubt that she is his child. 
 
 He requested the Doctor to open a pocket book, and take out 
 a blank envelope. Opening this, he showed some of the writing 
 of Imogen, which exactly compared with the other. Again, and 
 again blessing his long lost child, and bidding his children love 
 each other as brother and sister, he requested to be left alone with 
 the Doctor ; when he told him where to find the packet directed 
 to his son, to be left in his care. He expressed renewedly his
 
 370 CORA AND THE DOCTOR. 
 
 thanks that these disclosures had been brought to light in season 
 to prevent so unnatural a marriage. He gave some directions, 
 rendered necessary by the wonderful discovery. He then said, 
 calmly, " I have now done with earth," and requested the Doctor 
 to call his children to see him die. 
 
 Eugene threw himself upon the bed in an agony of grief. 
 " My soul cleaveth unto thee, my son," said the dying man. And 
 again mistaking Pauline for his beloved wife, he made an effort to 
 reach her, exclaiming, " I come, my Imogen I come ! " 
 
 Scarcely had the last words ceased to echo through the room, 
 when the spirit of Colonel Clifford joined his companion in the 
 world above. 
 
 Thursday, March 13th. 
 
 The remains of our deceased friend have been laid by the side 
 of her whom he so tenderly loved, to rest until the morning of 
 the resurrection. The arrangements for keeping the sacred place 
 from intrusion are completed, and we are only waiting the arrival 
 of the monument, which the Doctor has ordered from Rome, 
 before we take leave of our respected friend, Mr. Percival, and 
 depart for Paris. 
 
 " Thither where she lies buried, 
 That single spot is the whole world to me."
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 "I had so fixed my heart upon her, 
 That wheresoe'er I fram'd a scheme of life 
 For time to come, she was my only joy, 
 With which 1 used to sweeten future cares; 
 I fancy'd pleasures, none but one who loves 
 And doats as I did, can imagine like them." OTWAY. 
 
 Friday, March 
 
 TO-DAY Joseph received a letter from Monsieur Vinet in reply 
 to one he wrote, stating the time of our leaving for Paris. He 
 writes that he will accompany Adele to Nice a day or two before 
 that time, as she has a strong desire to become acquainted with 
 persons of whom she has heard so much from her friend, Monsieur 
 Morgan. For a few days past, I have noticed that Pauline 
 remained more in the room when Joseph was conversing with the 
 Doctor, and when thinking herself unnoticed, her attention became 
 absorbed, and her eyes flashed, while the color came and went, 
 giving her beautiful countenance a most bewitching variety of 
 expression. 
 
 But if cousin happened to turn his eye in that direction, though 
 the rich bloom on her cheek might assume a deeper tinge, yet the 
 long silky fringes instantly drooped over her tell-tale eyes. I am 
 sometimes almost vexed with Joseph. If he took half the pains 
 to win her confidence that he did formerly, this reserve and cool 
 ness might be exchanged for the most delightful friendship. I 
 wonder if he ever thinks of his request when she was a baby,
 
 372 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 that I would train her for him. If he does, it is only to laugh at 
 the follies of his youth. But I suppose what Frank suspects may 
 be true ; that he is attached to Adele. She will be here shortly, 
 and we shall see. 
 
 Tuesday, March 18th. 
 
 This morning Franky, who is full of mischief, put his hand 
 slyly into Joseph's pocket and pulled out a letter. Cousin was 
 busily reading, and did not notice the theft until the young rogue 
 put on his father's glasses, and crossing the room to place himself 
 in an elevated position, began to read aloud. Pauline, though 
 trying to restrain her mirth, yet shook her head ; but as I recog 
 nized the letter as the one from Monsieur Vinet, and Joseph had 
 read it aloud, I thought I would not spoil Master Franky's sport. 
 The young gentleman is by no means an expert at deciphering a 
 fine hand, and though the letter was written in English, failed to 
 make sense. He therefore turned to the postscript, and elevating 
 his voice to arrest attention, began, "Beloved friend, The time 
 seems very long since we parted, and I know you will be pleased 
 to hear from your friend Adele " 
 
 At the sound of that name, Joseph started, and with a quick 
 glance around the room, snatched the letter from Franky, saying, 
 " did n't you know it was very improper to read letters not directed 
 to yourself? " 
 
 " I would n't have read it, Joseph, if I had known 'twas a love 
 letter." 
 
 " Pshaw," said cousin, looking very much annoyed as he saw us 
 laughing at his expense. 
 
 Nelly, who is a great favorite, went and put her arms around 
 her cousin's neck, saying, " They sha n't laugh, Joseph, you shall 
 have just as many letters as you please, and nobody but you and 
 I shall read them. Dear Jo," she asked in a whisper, " Is she a 
 darling ? Shall I love her, when she is my cousin ? "
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 373 
 
 Joseph started to his feet. " Who has put such nonsense into 
 your head ? Coz," he continued, turning to me, " where did Frank 
 get hold of that letter ? " 
 
 " He must answer for himself," I replied. As I looked up from 
 my sewing, I saw that Pauline had left the room. After due 
 confession from the delinquent, and a suitable shaking from Joseph, 
 by way of reproof, which made the house ring with his merry 
 laughter, cousin continued his reading for half an hour, when he 
 started up, saying he would go and meet the Doctor, who was at 
 Mr. Percival's. 
 
 At that instant Franky returned to the parlor, with a very 
 dolorous expression upon his countenance. " Mamma," he ex 
 claimed, " Pauline is crying as if her heart would break, and she 
 won't tell me what 's the matter with her, though I 've asked her 
 ever so many times." 
 
 This was so unusual an occurrence that I started to my feet to 
 go to her, when Eugene threw down his pencil, (he was drawing 
 a sketch of the house where his mother was born,) and said, " let 
 me go, mamma. Please let me try my skill in soothing her 
 grief.", 
 
 I reluctantly resumed my seat. Joseph also replaced his hat in 
 the hall, and stood looking from the window. " We must hasten 
 our departure," said I. " Pauline is growing very nervous, which 
 cannot be wondered at. Joseph," said I, addressing him, " I almost 
 regret having followed your advice, to tell her she was not my 
 own child. She grows thinner and paler every day." 
 
 For a moment, Joseph remained silent, and I was almost vexed 
 that he was not more interested for Pauline, when he replied, in 
 an unnatural voice, " Cora, I hardly think you are aware what 
 you say. Would you have had her marry her brother ? " 
 
 His tone conveyed such bitter reproof that my eyes filled with 
 sears. For the first time, he turned from the window, and looked 
 at me. I saw, with surprise, that he was very pale. He ap 
 proached, holding out his hand, " forgive me, cousin ; I spoke 
 
 32
 
 374 COKA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 harshly ; but would n't it be better for you to go to Pauline. She 
 may not like to have Eugene witness her grief." 
 
 " Why ? " I asked. " She is very fond of her brother." 
 
 He walked quickly across the floor. " You forget," said he in 
 a hoarse voice, " how lately she loved him as her future husband. 
 I have seen the struggle in her mind, to overcome such an affec 
 tion, or rather to change it to the calm, though deep affection of a 
 sister." 
 
 I looked at Joseph earnestly, as he walked back and forth across 
 the room, with knitted brow and closely shut lips, and tried to 
 discover the cause of his agitation. At length he stopped before 
 me, and said, " Avill you go to her ? " 
 
 " Yes," I replied, laying aside my work. As I went above, I 
 heard him leave the house. 
 
 When I entered the school-room, I found Pauline sitting with 
 her head resting on her brother's shoulder, while his arm was 
 around her. She had ceased weeping, but still looked very sad. 
 " Mamma," said Eugene, " I 've been telling her how very naughty 
 it is for her to feel sorrow, and not allow me to share it with her. 
 She won't even tell me what makes her weep/' Pauline put her 
 handkerchief quickly to her face to hide the tears which were 
 streaming unbidden down her cheeks. I motioned to him to 
 leave her with me. He kissed her tenderly and went below. I 
 then led the weeping girl into my own room, and having fastened 
 the door, I sat by her side, and begged her to tell me what had 
 afflicted her. 
 
 " There is a shadow far within your eye, 
 Which hath of late been deepening. You were wont 
 Upon the clearness of your open brow 
 To wear a brighter spirit, shedding round 
 Joy, like this southern sun. It is not well, 
 If some dark thought be gathering o'er your soul, 
 To hide it from affection. Why is this, 
 My Pauline, why is this ? " 
 
 But after talking with her for nearly half an hour, I was no
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 375 
 
 wiser than at first. I could only get from her the confession that 
 she was very unhappy, and wished she were safely at home in 
 Crawford. I hinted to her what I suspected, that she found it 
 difficult to change the nature of her affection for her brother so 
 suddenly. She looked up quickly, as she replied, " JMamma, I 
 was deceived as to the nature of my love for him. I never could 
 have married Eugene ; but he is very dear to me as a brother." 
 
 Hearing the outer door open, she sprang upon her feet, painfully 
 embarrassed, and was going hastily from the room, but returned, 
 and said in a low voice, " Please, mamma, say nothing of this to 
 any one ; I will endeavor to be cheerful." 
 
 When I went below, Frank had returned, and soon Joseph came 
 in, and seating himself near the window, commenced reading in 
 the book which had so much interested him when Franky stole 
 his letter. I drew my husband to a retired part of the room, and 
 told him I wished to leave Nice as soon as possible for the sake of 
 Pauline. 
 
 After many questions on his part, and many replies on mine, I 
 told him what she said with regard to Eugene. " I think she 
 speaks truly there," exclaimed Frank eagerly. " I am convinced 
 she never loved him. I mean as a suitor. I was almost sure of 
 it at the time. She ought to be very thankful it has turned out 
 so well for her." 
 
 " She is so," I replied. " She says, he is a very dear brother." 
 
 Here Joseph threw down his book, and taking his hat walked 
 away from the house as if his very life depended upon his speed. 
 The Doctor laughed heartily, as he exclaimed, "what an odd 
 fellow Joseph is ! I wonder what started him off on such a race. 
 See there," he continued, approaching the window, " he is almost 
 out of sight." 
 
 Pauline begged to be excused from coming down to tea ; but 
 stole quietly in as we were sitting talking in the moonlight. I hope 
 she will ieel better in the morning.
 
 376 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 Wednesday, March 19th. 
 
 "We were seated at the breakfast table this morning, when Ruth 
 entered, bringing an exquisite bouquet, and saying with an expres 
 sive grin, " Here, Misse Pauline, dis bunch posies for you." 
 
 " "Who brought them ? " was eagerly asked by several voices. 
 Franky took a French leave of the company and rushed down 
 the street after the boy who had left them at the door. But he 
 could not overtake him, and returned to join in the curiosity 
 expressed on all sides, to know the donor of so tasteful a gift. 
 
 Ruth was questioned again and again, and asked to recollect if 
 there was no message. But she kept firmly to her original story ; 
 " He laugh and say, he told, bring dat Misse Pauline ; 'pears 
 like he mighty pleased heself." 
 
 The bouquet was passed from one to another and was much 
 admired. Joseph said, " whoever sent it might think himself well 
 paid if he knew what a sensation it has caused." 
 
 "When Pauline came to dinner she had selected a bright scarlet 
 verbina with a few queen leaves and twined them around her 
 dark tresses, which gave quite a glow to her pale countenance. I 
 saw cousin look very earnestly at her as she was seated opposite 
 him at table. The color deepened as she met his gaze, and this 
 greatly added to her beauty. 
 
 Nelly has just run up from the parlor for me to go below. 
 Monsieur Vinet has come with Adele. Now we shall leave Nice 
 in a very few days. 
 
 Thursday, March 20th. 
 
 "We are all of us charmed with Adele. She said she had heard 
 Monsieur Morgan speak of us so often, she felt as if she were 
 acquainted with us. When her countenance is in repose, which 
 to be sure is very seldom, there is nothing about it to attract 
 attention. But the moment she speaks, her whole face lights up, 
 and there is a wonderful play of the features, which arc ever 
 changing their expression. She has handsome hair and eyes.
 
 OK, KEVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 377 
 
 She wears her hair in quite a unique style, being parted smoothly 
 off her brow, and after being gathered. into a knot behind is worn 
 like a coronet around her head. She is very graceful and fasci 
 nating; and we consider her an agreeable addition. to our party. 
 
 When we came down to breakfast this morning, a vase was 
 standing by Pauline's plate filled with flowers still fresh with the 
 dew. As I stooped over them to inhale their fragrance, I saw a 
 card among the leaves with the words " For the lovely Pauline, 
 with the best wishes of a friend." The penmanship was delicate, 
 like that of a lady ; but we did not recognize it. 
 
 When Nelly explained the mystery connected with the flowers 
 to Adele, she was quite enthusiastic upon the subject, and said 
 gayly : " Oh ! I do so love a mystery. It is so romantic. It is 
 charming!" But she was unwearied in her efforts to unravel it. 
 She first charged Eugene with being the donor, which charge he 
 stoutly denied. Then she shook her finger at Joseph. "Ah, 
 monsieur, you are the one. Now I'll call you to account for this 
 piece of coquetry." 
 
 But Joseph only looked annoyed and said, " I have not left the 
 house this morning." 
 
 After all had expressed an opinion, Pauline exclaimed, "I 
 know who sent it." 
 
 " Who ? who ? " questioned Adele and Nelly, both at once. 
 
 " Mr. Percival, dear Mr. Percival," she answered Avith enthu 
 siasm. I happened to meet Joseph's eye, which very much 
 resembled the Joseph I knew in B - ; but he instantly looked 
 down and bit his lip to keep from laughing. 
 
 Saturday, March 
 The last two days have been spent by the young people 
 in visiting for the last time all the favorite haunts and places of 
 interest. Pauline's conduct is an enigma to me. Sometimes she 
 appears very cheerful, and often when with Adele, I have heard 
 her musical laugh ring through the house like a sweet toned bell ; 
 
 32*
 
 378 CORA AND THE DOCTOR ; 
 
 but it is a forced laugh, and is almost always followed by great 
 sadness. To-day her appearance pleased me better than it had 
 for a long time. I thought her more natural. But this evening 
 she is worse than ever. From what Nelly told me to-night, I 
 fear this state of her spirits is somewhat connected with Joseph. 
 During their frequent rambles, Pauline has always clung closely 
 to her brother's arm before they left the house, to prevent the 
 possibility of walking with her cousin. But to-night I noticed 
 that when they returned, Adele accompanied Eugene, and his 
 sister had taken Joseph's arm, while Franky held his cousin by 
 the hand. They were talking quite cheerfully as they approached 
 the house. I thought Joseph gazed down upon his companion 
 with something of the reverence with which he regarded her in 
 former years. 
 
 But after tea, Pauline happened to go with Nelly into the 
 school-room, and found Joseph sitting by the window with Adele. 
 To use Nelly's words, " Cousin Joe was holding her hand in his, 
 and she was "crying. She said, ' oh ! Monsieur, I can't indeed ! I 
 can't bear such treatment.' I was just going," Nelly continued, 
 " to ask her what was the matter, but Pauline pulled me away." 
 
 Where is Pauline ? " I asked. 
 
 " She is in her room, mamma." I went to her door, but found 
 it locked. This must not go on so. I am glad we are to leave 
 here Monday morning. 
 
 Paris, Monday, March 31st. 
 
 The Doctor, Joseph and Eugene are planning excursions enough 
 to last for a month. Adele, who resides Avith her uncle in this 
 city, has promised to accompany the young people to all its places 
 of interest. Indeed she has already begun to do so. Her uncle, 
 who is also her guardian, is one of the firm where Joseph is a 
 partner; and it is thus she has become acquainted with him. I 
 have noticed that since Pauline saw Adele weeping in the school 
 room with Joseph, she has avoided her cousin more assiduously
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 379 
 
 than ever. I am intending to renew some of my former acquain 
 tances, \vhile the others are sight-seeing. 
 
 Evening. 
 
 Pauline's bouquets have followed her to Paris. This evening 
 she received a magnificent one. She said, " I am now fully 
 convinced father procured them for me." I looked quickly at 
 Frank, who only smiled. 
 
 " Oh ! papa," said Pauline, throwing her arms about his neck 
 with a natural burst of feeling, " I thank you so much. How 
 very, very kind," and she kissed him affectionately. But the next 
 moment Avith a convulsive sob she sank back into her chair and 
 wept bitterly. 
 
 Joseph flew to her side, and leaning forward said, " Dear 
 Pauline, how can I comfort you ? " 
 
 Her father sent the children from the room, and took her 
 tenderly on his knee, where, drawing her head to his breast, he 
 whispered, " Pauline, my own dear child, cannot you tell your 
 father the cause of your grief ? " 
 
 I sat by her side while Joseph walked the room, stopping ever 
 and anon as if about to speak, and then checking himself with 
 difficulty. After a short time Pauline became more composed, so 
 that she could speak, and she raised her eyes mournfully to her 
 father's face as she said, " I forgot you were not my father, and I 
 was so happy." 
 
 "VVe were all much affected at the deep sadness of her 
 tone, and Frank said, " Let us all forget it, my daughter. Your 
 father loves you truly and tenderly ; " and he pressed her in his 
 arms as she lay like a child, hiding her face in his bosom. 
 
 Joseph could restrain himself no longer, but rushed forward and 
 etooping down, took her unresisting hand. " Pauline, dearest 
 Pauline, /cannot forget it, for the hour I learned that Eugene 
 \vas your brother, was the happiest of my life. Won't you look 
 at me, dearest, to show you forgive me ? "
 
 380 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 But the weeping girl clung to her father, Avhile she absolutely 
 shook with emotion. 
 
 Just at this moment, Adele burst into the room with very 
 evident marks of excitement. Her eyes were much inflamed, 
 and bore signs of excessive weeping. She' walked quickly up to 
 Joseph, and requested to see him alone. 
 
 Though evidently much annoyed, he led her into the next 
 apartment, where we heard their voices in earnest conversation 
 for a short time ; then she wept aloud, and I could hear Joseph 
 try to soothe her, and beg her to compose herself. Soon after, he 
 left with her in the carriage which brought her to our hotel. 
 
 Frank looked much perplexed, and almost stern. Pauline 
 wept so violently he feared the effect upon her. She sobbed out, 
 " Oh, papa ! " and pressed her hand to her heart. It was nearly 
 an hour before we succeeded in getting the poor child to her 
 chamber, and when I left her she promised to try to sleep. The 
 Doctor is determined to wait for Joseph, and demand an explana 
 tion of his conduct, and as I am too excited to sleep, I have 
 employed myself in writing. 
 
 Tuesday, April 1st. 
 
 After sitting up to receive Joseph, Avho occupies rooms at our 
 hotel, until after two this morning, Frank retired to bed. I have 
 rarely seen him more displeased. He says Joseph has trifled 
 with Pauline's affections. I did not know what to think. I never 
 saw anything in his conduct which led me to suppose he loved 
 her. 
 
 We were dressing for breakfast when a servant brought the 
 Doctor a note. It was from cousin, begging to see him as soon as 
 possible. Frank followed the servant, instead of sending an 
 answer ; and you can easily imagine I awaited his return with no 
 little impatience. 
 
 At length I went to see if Pauline were awake, and to my 
 astonishment found her up and dressed. Her countenance was
 
 OK, REVELATIONS OP A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 381 
 
 pensive ; but she tried to smile as she came forward for her 
 morning kiss. 
 
 We were hardly seated before her father knocked and begged 
 me to accompany Pauline to the parlor. He appeared so pleased, 
 I could easily see that Joseph had been able to explain his 
 conduct satisfactorily. When we entered the parlor, Joseph came 
 quickly forward to meet us. Pauline shrank back as if she wished 
 to avoid the meeting ; but Joseph spoke a few words in her 
 ear. What they were, I have not been able to find out ; but 
 there must have been some kind of a charm about them, for the 
 dear girl started and gazed earnestly at him, when she seemed to 
 feel satisfied, and artlessly put her hand in his. After pressing 
 the dear little treasure again and again to his lips, he led her 
 forward to where I sat looking on with astonishment. " Cousin 
 Cora," said he to me, " fifteen years ago I asked the hand of your 
 daughter. Your husband has just now made me very happy by 
 giving his consent. Will you give me yours ? " 
 
 " You are making a very bold request," I replied, as I drew 
 the blushing girl nearer to me. " What say you, my daughter, 
 shall we encourage such a suit ? " " Just as you please, mamma." 
 
 "No, my love, not just as /please. You must speak for 
 yourself." Joseph had thrown himself on one knee before us, and 
 having made a prisoner of her little hand, he poured out all the 
 story of his love the agony he had experienced when he visited 
 Nice and found her affianced to Eugene, and the many, many 
 doubts and fears he had felt on account of her cold manner toward 
 him. 
 
 The poor girl trembled excessively, and when he ceased, seemed 
 absolutely unable to reply. He started to his feet and said, 
 " O ! Pauline, beloved of my soul, can you, will you accept my 
 love?" 
 
 Making a great effort, she said in a very low voice, " I do love 
 you, dear Joseph." I could hardly distinguish the words ; but I 
 suppose the old saying is true, " for lovers' eyes are sharp to see
 
 382 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 and lovers' ears to hear," for the loving Joseph appeared fully 
 to hear and appreciate her meaning, and was by no means sparing 
 of his thanks on the occasion. I took the first opportunity to 
 leave the room, though Pauline was almost frightened at the 
 ardor of her lover, and clung to my dress, as I attempted to pass 
 her. 
 
 The Doctor has explained to me what appeared strange in the 
 conduct of our cousin, especially as connected with Adele. Her 
 history I will give you in a few words. She was left when a 
 child to the guardianship of her uncle. Being quite an heiress, 
 he wished her to make what he called a great match. But 
 Mademoiselle, whose wishes had never been crossed whose 
 slightest whim had been law to the whole household, had fallen in 
 love with a young man whose only inheritance was a heart full of 
 warm and generous impulses, united to a strength of determined 
 purpose, which would in the end surmount all obstacles in his 
 path, to riches and honor. All the wealth of his affections he had 
 lavished upon the charming Adele, and she fully reciprocated the 
 attachment. But Monsieur Vinet, her guardian, was very much 
 enraged when the young and ardent lover asked the hand of his 
 niece, and positively refused his consent. It was this which had 
 caused him to send her for a time to his brother near Nice, in the 
 hope that absence would dissolve their foolish fondness. Joseph 
 had been made a confidant by each of the parties ; and it was a 
 letter addressed to him by Monsieur Couvier that had so distressed 
 Adele while at Nice. It was a short postscript in relation to this 
 subject which had so much disturbed cousin, when Franky 
 commenced reading the letter aloud. 
 
 The crisis of her troubles which had occurred at a time so 
 unfortunate for poor Pauline, was caused in the following manner. 
 Adele, driven almost to despair by the inflexibility of her 
 guardian, determined to make an appeal to him in her own behalf. 
 She had thrown herself at his feet, and with all the enthusiasm of 
 her impulsive nature, had begged his consent to her union with
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 383 
 
 the one she loved. She offered to give up to him all her prop 
 erty, and in everything else, to be all that he could desire. Mon 
 sieur Vinet really loved his niece after his own fashion, and 
 could not be made to understand why she should prefer a man 
 so poorly endowed by fortune, to one who, though of doubtful 
 morals, and questionable virtue, yet was of noble birth and 
 princely estate. 
 
 Having sued in vain for his consent, and being in her violent 
 grief wholly unmindful of appearances, she had driven to our 
 hotel to beg Joseph to intercede for her. I need not stop to 
 detail all that followed. Suffice it to say that his influence, added 
 to the distressing agony of Adele which she took no pains to 
 control or to conceal, at length prevailed, and Joseph had the 
 pleasure before he left them of feeling that he had been the means 
 of securing happiness to two otherwise distracted hearts. 
 
 x Wednesday, April 2d. 
 
 This morning tne mystery connected with the bouquets has 
 been revealed. After receiving her morning gift from the 
 hands of the servant, Pauline gracefully went to her father, and 
 thanked him for giving her so much pleasure. 
 
 Frank looked archly at Joseph, who quickly dropped his eyes, 
 to conceal the look of merriment which begins to show itself. 
 " Thank you, my daughter," Frank said, returning the kiss, " but 
 I rather think you Ve bestowed ^it on the wrong person." 
 
 Pauline started, while a beautiful rosy hue spread all over her 
 face, and gave one eager glance at her lover. 
 
 I saw it was with great difficulty that Joseph restrained himself 
 from pressing her to his heart ; but he bent lovingly over her 
 little hand, and said something in a low, yet impassioned voice. 
 If he intended to drive away her blushes, he was unfortunate in 
 his choice of words, for they only deepened. 
 
 My husband and I have been talking over the whole of this 
 novel courtship from beginning to end, and I feel quite humbled
 
 884 CORA AND THE DOCTOR. 
 
 as I am obliged to come to the conclusion that, while Joseph for 
 fifteen years has never wavered in his affection for Pauline, who, 
 he says, first awakened him to a sense of his responsibility as a 
 man and a Christian, I, who have always prided myself upon 
 my shrewdness in matters of the heart, have been blind as a bat. 
 We expect to be with you on the twenty-second instant.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 " And lo ! at last relieved from every toil, 
 They come ! the wanderers view their native soil I 
 Then the bright raptures words can never speak, 
 Flash in their eyes, and mantle in their cheek ! 
 Then Love and Friendship, whose unceasing prayer, 
 Implored for them each guardian spirit's care ; 
 In that blest moment all the past forget, 
 Hours of susperise, and vigils of regret! " MRS. HEMANS. 
 
 Crawford, Monday, August 4th. 
 
 DEAR MOTHER, Since the hasty letter I wrote you, announc 
 ing our safe arrival at home, my time has been so fully occupied 
 that I have been altogether unable to resume my journal. Our 
 dear, lovely Pauline is to leave us the first of October. It is 
 fortunate for me that cares and duties demand every moment of 
 my time, else I fear, I should spend much of it in the unprofitable 
 employment of weeping. Indeed, there is a sad weight at my 
 heart, and sometimes when my darling child sits down before me, 
 and lays her head in my lap, I am completely overcome. How 
 fully, dear mother, I can enter into your sorrow, when I remember 
 the convulsive embrace with which you held me to your heart on 
 the event of my leaving home. I can again see the tears which 
 flowed like rain down your pale cheeks, and hear your broken 
 voice saying, " May God bless you, my own dear Cora, and comfort 
 your mother in her loss." 
 
 I must relate to you one little circumstance in connection with 
 Pauline, as showing the length of her attachment to Joseph. 
 
 33
 
 386 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 Eugene was tiying to unlock a small work-box, (as I had always 
 taken it to be,) with a key of his own, his sister having playfully 
 refused to allow him to see the contents. She sat by laughing, 
 perfectly secure that he had no key which would fit the lock, when 
 all at once the cover flew open. I had just entered the room, 
 when she said merrily, " There, Eugene, give it to me. It 's use 
 less to try ; " when, as she perceived his success, her tone changed 
 to one of such deep distress, as she eagerly tried to take it from 
 him. " Oh ! my dear, dear brother, do give it to me." 1 looked 
 in surprise. Eugene held the box behind him while she stood 
 with anxious, tearful distress, begging him to restore it. I stepped 
 quietly behind, and took the box with its precious contents from 
 his hand. 
 
 " Eugene," said I, shaking my head at him, " you are a naughty 
 boy to tease your sister." He called Nelly, his inseparable com 
 panion and adviser, and went into the garden. I still held the 
 box, and when we were alone, I presented it to her with a smile, 
 saying, " It would be safer, my dear, to put this out of Eugene's 
 way, since he is so curious to know the contents." 
 
 She held it tightly for a moment, a struggle evidently taking 
 place in her mind, when she said frankly, " Dear mamma, it is 
 only some letters you permitted me to keep." 
 
 " Letters from whom ? " I asked eagerly. 
 
 She put the whole into my hands, saying, " Dear mamma, you 
 gave them to me," and she hid her face on my shoulder. Judge 
 of my surprise when I found letters and scraps of letters dating 
 back as far as 1836, when Joseph was a gay boy. In truth 
 almost every one of them contained some message to his young 
 friend. 
 
 Then there was a sheet of scribbling, with the names, Joseph 
 Lenox Morgan and Pauline De Lacy Lenox, written in every 
 variety of penmanship, in cousin's bold hand. These were 
 interspersed with pictures evidently drawn to please a young child ; 
 a tall gentleman leading a little girl ; then a young lady taking the
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 387 
 
 arm of her companion, while underneath were written the names 
 "Joseph and Pauline.' 7 These were the precious mementos 
 which she had hoarded with as much care as the miser does his 
 gold ; and she confessed with tears, that when Adele was with us 
 at Nice, almost her only comfort consisted in reading over and 
 over these messages of love. 
 
 " When Eugene told me of his affection for me," she added, 
 with a slight shudder, " I thought I ought to destroy them ; but 1 
 had not the strength to do it." 
 
 I pressed the artless child to my heart, as I said, " And when I 
 blamed you for treating Joseph so ill, did you love him then? " 
 
 " Oh ! mamma," said she weeping, " how I longed to tell you 
 all about it ! I never knew until Joseph came, how much I loved 
 him. But then I knew also that Eugene loved me and desired 
 me to return his affection, and I feared it would be wrong toward 
 him, for me to show my strong attachment to my cousin. Besides 
 I thought Joseph would despise me if he saw my regard for him 
 while another sought my heart and my hand," 
 
 Thursday, October 2d. 
 
 Yesterday morning, at eleven o'clock, my dear Pauline was 
 married. I cannot yet realize that she has left me. The young 
 couple started directly on their wedding tour, and will return in 
 
 a fortnight to pass a few days with us, before they go to B , 
 
 where she is to be for the present, in the family of her father-in- 
 law. It is their wish to give up the whole management of the 
 household to her. But Joseph prefers to wait until she can 
 determine for herself whether she will board with them, or whether 
 the new couple shall set up a separate establishment and keep 
 house by themselves. In the midst of all my sadness, I cannot 
 but smile at his treatment of her. He listens to her words, as to 
 oracles of wisdom, and is as tender of her as a father of an only 
 and a feeble daughter, while she is the very picture of health and 
 cheerfulness.
 
 388 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 But I forget that I have told you nothing of the wedding, the 
 company, the ceremonies and the bridal gifts. I allowed Pau 
 line to make her own arrangements, and was not a little surprised 
 and delighted at her characteristic choice of bridemaids. In all 
 her plans, Eugene and Nelly were zealous, if not able advisers ; 
 and I doubt whether any young masters or misses were ever more 
 elated than were those appointed to this service. 
 
 Upon Monday evening, Joseph arrived Avith uncle and aunt 
 Morgan. Uncle presented his intended daughter with a splendid 
 service of plate, manufactured expressly for her ; and aunt, with 
 a bridal veil which Joseph had imported for her. Tuesday 
 evening a large box arrived from Lee Hall, directed to " Mrs. 
 Joseph Morgan elect" Poor Pauline was kept very rosy from 
 morning till night, by Eugene's continual practice on the enun 
 ciation of this new name, that he might obtain its sweetest and 
 most approved accent. The dear girl was almost overcome by 
 this public recognition of her new title. On opening the box, it 
 was found to contain a magnificent silver urn with slop-bowl to 
 match, lined with gold. This gift was from our dear friend, Mrs. 
 Mansfield. Many other appropriate and rich presents were 
 received from friends, which I have not time to specify, as I must 
 hasten to my account of the wedding. 
 
 It was private, but few being present, as Pauline is to meet her 
 friends on her return, and has appointed the twenty-first of October, 
 her father's birth-day, for her wedding party. 
 
 On Wednesday morning, at eleven o'clock, the time appointed 
 for the ceremony, Eugene ushered us into the parlor, where we 
 found Allen and Lucy, Dr. and Mrs. Clapp, Miss Proctor, uncle 
 and aunt, Mr. Benson and Emily, and our dear mother with our 
 beloved pastor and his family, while Caesar, Phebe, Ruth and Ann 
 filled up the back ground, and gave an agreeable variety to the 
 shading of the picture. Eugene formally conducted the Doctor 
 and myself to the seats of distinguished guests, and then retired 
 to fulfil his duty as master of ceremonies, which from the youth-
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 389 
 
 fulness and inexperience of many of the company, and the perfect 
 'order with which they entered the room, must have required BO 
 little skill in the training. 
 
 First entered Eugene and Nelly ; then Charles Karswell and 
 Anna Reynolds, who are shortly to be married ; next Henry 
 Marshall, grandson of our friend the Attorney General, and 
 Emily Lenox Mansfield ; next Franky Lenox and Susy Benson, 
 Avhile Willie Reynolds and little black-eyed Hatty Clapp brought 
 up the rear. These all walked, with the order and dignity befitting 
 the occasion, to their proper places, leaving a vacant space in the 
 centre for the young bride, who entered last, leaning on the arm 
 of him whom she had loved " from very childhood up." 
 
 Truly, they were a noble pair. He was tall and erect, with a 
 broad, high brow, and eyes beaming with fondness upon the fail- 
 face so confidingly upturned to his own. She wore a white satin 
 dress with an over-dress of gossamer lace. Her hair, which she 
 always wore in natural curls, falling upon her neck, was looped 
 up at the sides with a wreath of orange flowers, that also confined 
 her veil. Sister Emily, who, with Lucy Mansfield's assistance, 
 dressed the bride, and gave the finishing touch to the dress of all 
 the young men and maidens, was much delighted at the complete 
 success of her efforts. Rev. Mr. Munroe, by a few mystic words 
 made the twain one forever. Then after prayer for a blessing on 
 the happy union, all walked up to salute the bride. 
 
 Though my heart was overflowing, yet I had been able to 
 command myself until my husband led me to the bride. I tried 
 to speak, but finding my voice inarticulate, hastily kissed her and 
 retired for a few moments to recover myself. When I returned 
 to the room, Cassar was passing the cake, while his countenance 
 wore a ludicrous mixture of sorrow and delight. He evidently 
 felt a strong inclination to weep ; but his duties rendering this 
 inappropriate and inconvenient, he tried to assume an expression 
 of the joy which he conceived to be more befitting the occasion. 
 
 Uncle and aunt Morgan will remain with us until after Pauline's 
 
 38*
 
 390 CORA AND THE DOCTOR. 
 
 return and levee. A list of the persons to be then invited she 
 put into the hand of her brother Eugene. The day before she 
 went, she consulted me about the number she should invite. I 
 replied, "just as many as you please, and just whom you please." 
 
 From her choice of bridemaids, I rather think, there will be a 
 miscellaneous company. But if it gives the dear girl pleasure 
 and affords her an opportunity to take leave of friends, to whom 
 she is ardently attached, I shall be satisfied. 
 
 Both she and Eugene were delighted that the levee would 
 occur on their father's birth-day. Emily Benson has brought her 
 babies to make us a family visit while uncle and aunt Morgan are 
 here, so that I have no time to be lonely.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 " How few, like thee, inquire the wretched out, 
 And court the offices of soft humanity ! 
 Like thee, reserve their raiment for the naked, 
 Reach out their bread to feed the crying orphan, 
 Or mix the pitying tears with those'that weep ! " 
 
 ROWE. 
 
 Wednesday, October 22d. 
 
 LAST evening the company began to assemble for the levee at 
 an early hour, and consisted of persons selected without any 
 reference to the accidental distinctions of wealth and rank. Mr. 
 Marshall, the attorney General, and Thomas Jones the reformed 
 inebriate, but now one of the most respectable and respected citi 
 zens of the town, were in close proximity. Here too, were Mr. 
 Allen and Mrs. Lucy Mansfield, at the head of the wealthy aris 
 tocracy, in animated conversation with "William and Anna Rey 
 nolds, once so oppressed with poverty. Mr. Benson and Emily, 
 who would anywhere be recognized as persons of true refinement 
 and grace, bestowed special attention upon those present, who 
 were unaccustomed to such scenes, and on that account timid and 
 reserved. A table was extended the entire length of the dining 
 room, and bountifully crowned with delicacies and luxuries, of 
 which at the proper hour all were invited to partake. The 
 bride and bridegroom with their train, who were in attendance as 
 at the wedding, mingled with the company and addressed a kind 
 word to each.
 
 892 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 There were so many children and young people present who 
 were obliged to leave at an early hour, that the Doctor, after con 
 sultation with me, requested Mr. Munroe to close this interesting 
 interview with prayer. Instead of complying immediately with 
 this request, I noticed that Dr. Clapp stepped forward and said 
 something to the Doctor, and then suddenly left the room in com 
 pany with the reverend gentleman, Mr. Marshall, Allen Mans 
 field, and one or two others. I looked at Frank, wondering what 
 this could mean. He whispered to me,, that Dr. C. wanted to 
 have a little singing. I was still more puzzled when Emily Ben 
 son touched my arm and desired to speak with me. " They have 
 found out," said she, " that it is Frank's birth-day, and want to 
 sing a hymn in honor of the event. Take his arm and keep him 
 quiet, just where you are." She then went and led mother and 
 the children near me, and taking her husband's arm, stood be 
 hind us. 
 
 The gentlemen returned, and Dr. Clapp, who is a fine singer, 
 commenced the following hymn, in which he was joined at first 
 by nearly all the company except our immediate family : 
 
 To him who e'er hast lent a hand 
 
 In hours of direst woe, 
 Who like a brother led the way, 
 
 And showed us how to go ; 
 To him who oft has bowed the knee 
 
 Beside the lowly cot, 
 Here thanks we give, here thanks we pay, 
 
 On this thy natal day. 
 
 Kind benefactor, brother, friend, 
 
 Our words but feebly tell 
 The gush of love comes over us, 
 
 And in our bosoms swell, 
 For all thy kindness, all thy care 
 
 For souls by sin oppressed, 
 Here thanks we give, here thanks we pay, 
 
 On this thy natal day.
 
 OK, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 393 
 
 May He who in his precious word 
 
 Declares the giver blessed, 
 E'en far beyond recipients, 
 
 Pronounce thee doubly blessed ; 
 And as swift years their circles speed, 
 
 May lover, children, friends, 
 Combine to bless thy natal day, 
 
 As we our thanks do pay. 
 
 I never knew Frank so much overcome. He put his handker 
 chief to his eyes, and then made.a movement as if he were medi 
 tating an escape from the room ; but I whispered, " don't leave 
 me, Frank." 
 
 "When the singing terminated, Rev. Mr. Munroe stopped for 
 ward and began to make a speech. My heart beat very fast ; 
 and for a moment I felt as if I were going to be married. I was 
 so much overcome that I could not hear all that was said, but the 
 next hour was occupied with speeches addressed to the Doctor, 
 by Rev. Mr. Munroe, Mr. Marshall, Dr. Clapp, and Thomas 
 Jones ; each of whom in a most delicate manner, spoke of his 
 happy influence and professional services. Mr. Munroe said, 
 " No one could fully estimate the value of the labors of a pious 
 physician this side of eternity." " Everywhere," he continued, 
 " among this people, I find occasion to bless God for locating me 
 in a parish where those labors abound." 
 
 Dr. Clapp thanked my husband for his kind attention, encour 
 agement and friendship, and concluded by saying "I owe all my 
 present ease and comfort to you, Dr. Lenox." 
 
 Allen Mansfield followed him, and in glowing terms spoke of 
 the blessings for which under God he and his were indebted to 
 Frank, and to our family. 
 
 Next Thomas Jones came forward to acknowledge his obliga 
 tions. He commenced in a lofty strain. " Dear sir, I speak not for 
 myself alone, but for a large class in the community, some of 
 whom I see standing around you and your worthy lady and
 
 394 CORA AND THE DOCTOR ; 
 
 family, persons who through your instrumentality." Poor man, 
 his emotion choked his utterance, and he suddenly stopped, caught 
 the Doctor by the hand, and broke out in a moi-e natural and 
 therefore impressive strain ; " Oh, sir, think what I was when you 
 found me, took me out of the ditch, led me home by the hand, 
 encouraged and warned me, prayed with me and for me ; think 
 of me, a poor besotted drunkard, frightening my own wife and 
 children, and see what your kindness has made of me and of 
 them. I say with Dr. Clapp, that under God, I owe all this to 
 you, Doctor ; and there 's many here whose hearts are saying the 
 same thing. God bless you, Doctor, your beloved wife and 
 children ; and may he also bless us, and gladden our hearts, by 
 many returns of your birth-day. Mr. Willard had prepared me 
 a fine speech for the occasion ; but before I got through the first 
 sentence I forgot the whole of it." This frank acknowledgment 
 suddenly turned the sorrow that was suffusing so many eyes into 
 a roar of laughter, in which even the weeping Doctor could not 
 but unite. 
 
 Finally, Mr. Marshall presented himself and said, " Dr. Lenox, 
 there are many persons in this company who have it in their 
 hearts to reiterate the remarks of Mr. Jones, Dr. Clapp and others 
 who have addressed you ; but the lateness of the hour forbids them 
 the pleasure. Enough has been said to convince you, their es 
 teemed friend and physician, that your labors have been neither 
 in vain, nor unappreciated. In their behalf and in my own behalf, 
 I thank you for your ministrations of kindness, for your charity 
 to the poor, and your relief of the distressed ; and I cordially 
 unite with them in the desire that your life and valuable services 
 may be long spared to us, and to the community in which 
 we live. I conclude with this sentiment : " Our beloved physi 
 cian he has sown bountifully, may he also reap bountifully, 
 harvesting esteem in this world, and life eternal in the world to 
 come"
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 395 
 
 " Thy natal day 
 And duly shall our raptured song, 
 
 And gladly shall our eyes 
 Still bless this clay's return, so long 
 
 As thou shalt see it rise." 
 
 When he had closed, Mr. Marshall, perceiving that the Doctor 
 was too much overcome to attempt a reply, turned to the pastor, 
 who concluded the service with a solemn and impressive prayer. 
 There was hardly a dry eye in the room, while Csesar and Phebe, 
 who stood in the rear of our family, sobbed aloud. The Doctor 
 kept his handkerchief to his eyes, and he told me afterwards, that 
 it was with difficulty he could support himself. 
 
 After prayer, the company bade us good night and retired. 
 The next morning, at family prayers, I was delighted to hear my 
 husband pray that he might not be led to take to himself that 
 glory which was due to God alone ; but that the late scene might 
 humble him and render him more diligent in his master's service. 
 
 Friday, October 24th. 
 
 This morning, before Pauline's departure, Eugene put into her 
 hand, legal documents conveying to her one half of their deceased 
 father's estate. Uncle and aunt Morgan are to return with the 
 bride and bridegroom. Charles Karswell and Anna Reynolds are 
 to be of the party as far as New York city, and Eugene to New 
 Haven, where he is to resume his place in the senior class in Yale 
 College, which he entered at the last commencement. 
 
 Now that they all have gone, I begin to realize that Pauline, 
 the child of my heart, has left me, and in spite of all my efforts 
 at resistance, a sadness steals over my spirits. I try to compose 
 myself, and to realize some comfort from the thought my dear 
 husband holds up to my view, that I have gained a son. But as 
 yet I can only remember that I have lost the society and compan 
 ionship of my lovely daughter; I think that Frank feels her loss 
 almost as much as I do; for though he appears very cheerful, yet
 
 396 CORA AND THE DOCTOR. 
 
 there is a pallor about his mouth which I have always noticed 
 when his feelings are deeply moved. I heard him as he left me 
 to visit his patients humming a lively tune ; but I knew that he 
 only did it, as boys whistle in the dark, to keep their courage 
 up.
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 (i When all the fiercest passions cease, 
 
 (The glory and disgrace of youth;) 
 When the deluded soul in peace, 
 
 Can listen to the voice of truth ; 
 When we are taught in whom to trust, 
 
 Arid how to spare, to spend, to give; 
 (Our prudence kind, our pity give,) 
 
 'Tis then \ve rightly learn to live." CRABBE. 
 
 " Papers relating to my Moved Imogen, to be read by my son on 
 his attaining his majority. H. C. S. 
 
 "Mr DEAR SON EUGENE, When you unseal this packet, 
 the hand which wrote this brief account of your mother, will be 
 mouldering in the dust. When you have read it, you will need 
 no farther explanation of the cause of that sorrow which has 
 brought me to the grave. Nor will you wonder that I could never 
 enter upon the subject so often and so naturally referred to by 
 you. 
 
 " My beloved Imogen, your mother was born in Nice, of highly 
 respectable and wealthy parents. The estate on which they lived, 
 which has of course much depreciated in value, together with 
 funds in Paris, enabled them to live in comfort, and to bestow upon 
 their only child, Imogen, the best advantages of education. 
 
 " In the autumn of 1828, 1 went to Rome for the winter. There 
 1 first met her, whose image from that hour to the present has 
 never left me. Though her great personal beauty, both of face 
 and figure, joined to her remarkable mental endowments, rendered 
 
 34
 
 398 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 her the object of universal admiration, yet I alone won the 
 affections of her generous heart, a heart which, though warm and 
 impulsive beyond even the daughters of her native clime, was pure 
 as that of a vestal. 
 
 " But my throbbing pulse and trembling hand warn me not to 
 delay at this point of my story. Suffice it to say that I returned 
 with my beloved Imogen to Nice, and our betrothal receiving the 
 sanction of her parents, we were married ; their only condition 
 being a promise from me, that when I was ordered abroad, (I was 
 then in command of troops in his majesty's service,) she should 
 return to them to remain during my absence. 
 
 " No language can describe to you the happiness experienced 
 by us during the few years which followed. An amount of 
 happiness not often vouchsafed to man. Alas! alas! I sought 
 nothing beyond the felicity of the present hour. I adored my 
 wife, and lovely boy, but forgot even the being of that God, who 
 had blessed me so far beyond the common lot of mortals. But 
 early in the year of 1833, I was fully awakened to a sense of my 
 bliss, by the thought of the terrible separation which had now 
 become necessary. I received orders to join my regiment and 
 go to India. I had taken one furlough after another, but now 
 there could be no more delay. In the first frenzy of her despair 
 at losing me, Imogen insisted upon accompanying me. But earn 
 estly as my heart seconded this appeal, I could not be so rash as 
 to allow it. It was within a few months of her accouchement ; and 
 I determined not to leave her until she was safe in Nice under the 
 care of her parents. This, however, circumstances compelled me 
 to do. At this crisis, Ralph Mortimer, a young officer, who was 
 dear to me as a brother, arrived in England. He had sold out 
 his commission, and was intending to go to France to recruit his 
 wasted strength and spirits. I met him accidentally, and in a few 
 moments had communicated to him the nature and depth of my 
 affliction. He was somewhat roused from his melancholy by my 
 distress ; and without detailing minutely what followed, it was at
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 399 
 
 length decided that I should remain with my family until the 
 time of sailing, and then Mortimer would proceed to Nice with 
 Imogen and our boy. I presented every possible inducement to 
 him to remain in Nice, that I might feel in case of her parents' 
 death, or any unforeseen event, that my dear wife would have a 
 protector. She, however, in private informed me that she feared 
 constant intercourse with a man so morose and melancholy would 
 only prey upon her spirits. But I hoped much from her influence 
 to overcome this morbid state, and as there was no living being 
 in whom I had such entire confidence, I rather urged this upon 
 her. My friend I believed to be the very soul of honor and 
 But I cannot go on. I have been thus particular to show you 
 that I was the only mover in these arrangements for her comfort 
 during my absence ; and that she unwillingly agreed to them 
 solely out of her affection for me ; often repeating, that in the 
 society of her parents, and with the affection and nurture of her 
 beautiful boy, she should endeavor to pass away the time, and 
 count the months when I should return to her arms. 
 
 " Passing over the frantic grief of my loved Imogen from whom 
 I was obliged forcibly to tear myself away, I went mechanically 
 on board the vessel which I regarded with horror as the one 
 that was to bear me far from all I loved ; nay, idolized. Morti 
 mer accompanied me, and I was startled from my brief uncon 
 sciousness and unconcern of what was passing, by his approaching 
 to take leave. 
 
 " Drawing him passionately to a retired part of the vessel, I 
 there extracted from my friend a promise that after accompanying 
 her to her parental home, he would under all circumstances watch 
 over her with the affection of a brother ; that he would never 
 cease his efforts for her happiness or prosperity. All this, he 
 solemnly promised out of regard to our early and long tried 
 friendship. Afterwards I let him go. 
 
 "During the ensuing year, I received letters from home 
 announcing the birth of a little daughter ; and also the sudden
 
 400 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 death of my wife's father, which latter event was quickly followed 
 by the decease of her mother. 
 
 " Imogen was now alone, arid Mortimer, though still an invalid, 
 prompted by his desire to fulfil his promise to me, spent much of 
 his time in her blissful society, having his rooms at the hotel, which 
 was near her residence. It was his delightful privilege to watch 
 the unfolding of our two precious buds of promise, to administer 
 consolation to his sorrowing charge in her successive bereavements. 
 Alas ! alas ! while soothing her grief, a pang entered his own 
 soul. He suddenly awakened to the fact that he loved one, whose 
 innocent purity of thought and action were at every meeting more 
 and more apparent. He loathed himself for his perfidy to the 
 brother of his early affections ; that he had thus returned the 
 generous confidence which had confided to him in perfect trust, 
 the wife of his youth, the chosen companion of his heart. 
 
 " But I am anticipating. Toward the close of the year 1834, 
 I received a letter, purporting to be from a gentleman residing in 
 Nice, and who professed great interest in me. This letter, though 
 cautiously written, yet more than hinted at the unfaithfulness of 
 my wife, and the perfidy of her companion, Ralph Mortimer. 
 When I received it, like the bite of a poisonous serpent, it instantly 
 diffused itself through every vein in my body. I gnashed my 
 teeth that I could not get my hands upon the villain, and tear 
 him to pieces. But I was thousands of miles away, and must 
 bear my dishonor as best I might. After a night, spent in such 
 horror as no words can describe, I determined to resign my com 
 mission, to sacrifice everything in order to get home. What was 
 to become of me when there I never thought. But before I 
 could accomplish my wishes, the idea which waking or sleeping 
 was ever before me, of him whom I considered too vile, even for 
 the company of devils, in the constant society and love of my 
 hitherto adored wife this idea so wrought upon a frame 
 enfeebled by a hot climate, that I was laid upon my couch with 
 fever. So violent was this attack, that there was no hope of my
 
 OB, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 401 
 
 recovery. For weeks, I lay unconscious ; but when I recovered 
 my reason, and was told I could not live, I knew better. I was 
 sure I should be allowed to unmask the traitor, and expose Morti 
 mer to infamy. I was right. I recovered so rapidly that the 
 most sanguine expectations of my friends were more than realized ; 
 and far sooner than I had even dared to hope, I was ready to sail 
 for England. But I had nearly failed in this, for when about to 
 embark, having all my goods on board, I received another letter, 
 containing intelligence which had I doubted before, would now, 
 alas ! have left no farther room for doubt. Burning with rage, I 
 was carried on board ship, where, by a dreadful relapse of fever, 
 I was brought a second time to the borders of the grave. Again 
 mercy interposed, and I partially recovered. But I felt no grati 
 tude for restored health, no thanks to the Being who had 
 preserved me amidst so many dangers. All the feelings of my 
 soul were concentrated into one burning desire for revenge, and 
 every moment which delayed this, was an age to my impatient 
 spirit. 
 
 " I landed in England, and without an hour's delay took passage 
 for Havre, from which place I proceeded to Nice. 
 
 " Oh, my son Eugene ! I have taken up my pen many times, 
 and unable to relate, even to you, the awful, the shocking events 
 which followed, have again and again been obliged to lay it down. 
 But justice to your departed mother requires the sacrifice, and it 
 shall be made. 
 
 " I reached Nice, and with the fires of Etna raging within me, 
 I drove directly to the home of Imogen. She was not in. One 
 of the servants informed me she had gone out to walk with Mr. 
 Mortimer. 
 
 " The old steward caught my hand, as without waiting to see my 
 children, I was rushing after the wanderers. " Thank God ! " said 
 he, " that you have returned." 
 
 " Even in this cordial welcome, I read a confirmation of my 
 dishonor. Having learned the direction they had taken, I flew 
 
 34*
 
 402 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 along the streets until at length I saw rny -wife approaching with 
 Mortimer. I instantly crouched behind a wall, and as they 
 passed, heard her imploring him to leave Nice. 
 
 " He told her it was in vain for her to plead. The time had 
 passed when he might have done so ; now it was no longer in his 
 power to tear himself from her presence. 
 
 " Had I not heard enough ? A voice within me thundered why 
 wait for more ? With one bound, I leaped like a tiger over the 
 wall, and throwing him to a distance from where she stood, I 
 presented a pistol to his breast. 
 
 " The movement had been so sudden, and unexpected, that for 
 an instant they stood paralyzed. But recovering himself, Morti 
 mer, though pale as death, stood erect before me, saying, ' you can 
 do me no greater favor than to end a life so miserable as mine 
 has become.' 
 
 " There was something about him which reminded me of the 
 loved Ralph of my boyhood, and my hand holding the pistol 
 dropped to my side. But Imogen rushed forward and threw 
 herself at my feet. ' Spare his life ! oh, Harry ! spare his life ! ! ' 
 
 "In this appeal, I recognized only her love for the guilty 
 wretch ; and I spurned her from me, calling her by the vilest of 
 names. She fell senseless to the ground, and I, maddened by the 
 scene, only waited to appoint a meeting for the morrow with 
 Mortimer, when hastening to the inn, where I had ordered my 
 horse to be left, I flew rather than rode to the next town. I 
 cannot tell how I passed the night. At the time specified, I was 
 at the place, and soon Mortimer met me. I placed a brace of 
 pistols in his hand, and in^a voice hoarse with passion, I bade him 
 take his choice. 
 
 " Mechanically he took one from me, and then stopped. ' Harry,' 
 said he, ' one word before you fire. I alone am to blame. Imogen 
 is ' he hesitated ' an angel! ' 
 
 " ' Yes,' said I, drawing my breath with difficulty, ' but a fallen 
 one.'
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 403 
 
 " He groaned aloud. ' Oh, God forgive me that I should have 
 made her suffer ! ' 
 
 " I was beside myself as he thus dared to avow his love, and 
 I ordered him to stand, or I could not restrain myself. He stood 
 around facing the sun. Even in my rage, I would not take ad 
 vantage of this, but pointed to him to change his position. 
 
 " ' No,' said he, < I neither deserve nor wish to live. Fire, 
 Harry,' he continued, as I paused. ' I never will raise my hand 
 against one I have treated so treacherously ! ' 
 
 " ' Ralph,' I exclaimed, ( You dare not refuse to give me satis 
 faction.' 
 
 " Without another word, he placed the pistol to his own breast, 
 when, with a spring into the air, he fell heavily to the ground. 
 He had taken his own life. 
 
 " I flew to him, and raised him in my arms. All my revenge was 
 oozing out with the blood which poured from his death wound. 
 
 " ' Oh, Harry,' he said faintly, ' tell me before I die that you 
 will forgive Imogen. She is innocent. She never knew till 
 yesterday that I loved her, and then she implored me to leave her 
 at once. She said her heart was all yours.' 
 
 " I gasped for breath. ' Ralph,' I shouted, ' say again that she 
 ts innocent, and I will willingly lie down beside you and die.' 
 
 " ' Harry,' and the voice grew more and more faint. < I would 
 not deceive you. Had she known the wicked feelings I have 
 indulged, she would have spurned me from her presence.' 
 
 " ' And you ? ' I asked quickly. 
 
 "'I dared to love her whom you so trustingly con 
 fided to my care ! ' 
 
 ' The last words were spoken so faintly, that by putting my ear 
 to his mouth, I could scarcely distinguish them. ' Oh, Ralph,' I 
 exclaimed in an agony of remorse, ' you must not die ! ' The 
 blood had ceased flowing since I had crowded into the wound a 
 handkerchief torn from my neck, and I began to hope he had but 
 fainted. I shouted ' help ! ' Soon some men came running from
 
 404 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 a field. I told them a man was dying from loss of blood, and I 
 wanted help to carry him to the inn. 
 
 From that fatal moment, I remember nothing which passed for 
 nearly a month, except lying in a darkened room, while a figure 
 dressed in white floated around me. When I partly recovered my 
 consciousness, I began to listen for the light footstep, and looked 
 up to see my nurse. She was dressed in a gray robe, like the 
 sisters of charity, with a hood which nearly concealed her face. 
 I turned my head to the wall and sighed ; but my thoughts soon 
 wandered, and I forgot my disappointment. Whenever I slept, I 
 dreamed that my Imogen was by my side, but awoke only to see 
 the calm figure of the hooded nun. Twice I felt sure I heard 
 violent weeping in the room, but could never discover the cause. 
 
 " I had now regained my consciousness, but I dared ask no 
 questions. The nun never spoke. She performed the office of a 
 nurse in the most tender and devoted manner. But after I had 
 begun to question her, she left me, and her place was supplied by 
 another. I asked my physician to restore the one who had so 
 kindly watched over me. 
 
 " ' Her skill has saved your life,' was all his reply. 
 
 " I asked him how I came to this place. 
 
 " ' When you are strong enough to bear it I will tell you.' 
 >"This answer put me back several days. When at the worst, 
 I one day suddenly opened my eyes, and found the gray nun 
 leaning over me. For an instant the large lustrous eyes looked 
 mournfully into mine, and I was sure Imogen was before me, 
 when turning partly aside, a calm, cold voice asked me what I 
 would have. 
 
 " The disappointment was too great. I buried my head in the 
 bed clothes and wept. I saw her no more. A week passed away ; 
 it was a full month since I first asked the question ; and I 
 again implored my kind physician to tell me what had happened 
 during my sickness. I found Mortimer had never spoken after he 
 reached the house ; and I" had been discovered and conveyed to 
 my home, I never knew by whom.
 
 OR, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE. 405 
 
 " I had over-estimated my strength, and again relapsed. But 
 this time I had my reason. Then it was that my sins stared me 
 in the face. I was a murderer. Yes, though my hands had not 
 shed blood except in battles, yet in the sight of God, aye, and in 
 my own sight, I was a murderer. 
 
 " But where were Imogen and my children ? I had often asked 
 this question, but had never been able to obtain a reply. I now 
 determined to ask Mr. Percival ; and taking advantage of an 
 early visit, I put the question directly to him, ' "Where is my 
 wife?' 
 
 " He shook his head mournfully. 
 
 " ' I cannot be kept longer in suspense,' I exclaimed. ' Do not 
 fear it will injure me.' 
 
 " ' I shall probably be able to impart some knowledge of her 
 at our next interview,' he replied, and soon took his leave. 
 
 " When he bent over my head at parting, I saw his eye was 
 moistened by a tear, and I loved him for sympathizing in my 
 grief. 
 
 " Oh, my son ! my hand almost refuses to record the pang 
 which was soon to seize my soul. During the days succeeding 
 his visit, I arose from my bed, dispensed with the services of a 
 physician, and yet my kind friend came not. I determined to 
 wait no longer. Though hardly daring to hope that my injured 
 wife would forgive me, yet I longed to throw myself at her feet, 
 and sue for pardon. I called my servant and told him to send for 
 the clergyman. 
 
 " He replied, ' Mr. Percival is below, and will wait upon you.' 
 
 Something in the manner of the man alarmed me, and sinking 
 back in my chair, under an apprehension of I knew not what, I 
 impatiently awaited my visitor. He came in, kind and gentle 
 as ever, and sat by my side. 
 
 " ' You promised,' said I eagerly, ' to tell me of my Imogen.' 
 
 " ' I have come for that purpose, my son,' and again he paused. 
 
 " ' Mr. Percival,' I said, catching hold of his hand, ' Have you 
 no compassion ? '
 
 406 CORA AND THE DOCTOR; 
 
 " He put his handkerchief to his eyes. ' She is at rest ! ' 
 
 " I sprang from my chair, and stood before him, only half 
 comprehending his meaning. ' Where ? ' I tried to articulate. 
 
 '' He pointed upward. 
 
 " I pass over the agony of that period. It was a long, long 
 time before I could be reconciled to life. I could not endure the 
 thought of leaving the grave of my lost Imogen, and I sent my 
 steward to England for our children. My sympathizing friend, 
 Mr. Percival, had directed me where to find them. The steward 
 returned with you, my son ; but from that time to the present, I 
 have never been able to find the least trace of the little Inez. She 
 had started for England with her nurse to meet you, who were 
 there with our friends, and though I caused the strictest enquiries 
 to be made, and advertised in the papers for many months, yet 
 nothing could be learned. She was probably wrecked in a vessel 
 reported as lost at sea about that time. 
 
 " This loss was, however, but slight compared with the one 
 which from the hour I heard it, to the present, has pressed upon 
 me with a mountain weight. The conduct of your mother was so 
 spotless, that, notwithstanding the intimacy of Mortimer in the 
 family, not a breath of calumny had ever fallen on their intercourse. 
 The loss of her parents had been blessed to her soul, so that for 
 a year she had been a humble Christian. She came and watched 
 over me during my sickness in the disguise of a nun, the physi 
 cian enforcing perfect silence as the only condition of her presence. 
 She arose from her bed to look upon me once more, and then 
 returned to the parsonage to die of a broken heart. 
 
 " My dear son, Eugene, I have now concluded my brief sketch 
 of my crimes, and of your mother's virtues. No motive less 
 powerful than the desire to do justice to her memory, together 
 with the hope that you may be enabled by the grace of God to 
 avoid the one and to imitate the other, could have induced me to 
 make a record of this portion of my life. 
 
 " I have with great satisfaction observed that in the sweetness
 
 OB, REVELATIONS OF A PHYSICIANS WIFE. 407 
 
 and urbanity of your disposition, you resemble your lovely mother. 
 Could I feel that religion guided, and governed your thoughts and 
 actions ; that the instructions I have endeavored to impress upon 
 your mind, would be sanctified to your heart by the Holy Spirit ; 
 that the daily and hourly prayers I have sent up to heaven in your 
 behalf would be accepted, and answered, then indeed I could lay 
 me down and die in peace. 
 
 " Oh, my dear son ! Take warning by my crimes ; by the 
 sudden blighting of all my fondest hopes ; by my premature old 
 age ; but above all, by the agony of remorse, which has in the 
 prime of life, brought my gray hairs in sorrow to the grave ; take 
 warning never to be governed and controlled by passion. Never 
 allow yourself to be influenced by what is falsely called " honor" 
 to raise your hand against your fellow. 
 
 " In every event of life you have a sure guide in the word of 
 God. Eead it, my son; read it daily; read it prayerfully; 
 endeavor to conform your life to its precepts ; so shall you be 
 useful in life, peaceful in death, and happy through all eternity. 
 
 "And now, my dearly beloved son, farewell! Though my sins 
 have risen up to heaven, yet the blood of my crucified Saviour 
 has sufficed to wash away their guilty stains. I leave myself 
 with him, trusting solely in his righteousness for pardon and salva 
 tion. 
 
 " Soon I hope to receive my summons to resign my earthly 
 tabernacle, and to join my Imogen in forever singing praises to 
 him who died to redeem my guilty soul. 
 
 " Eugene, my son, Eugene ! FAREWELL ! ! "
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 
 Form L9-20m-7,'61(C1437s4)444
 
 I,M S ,, UT ,1 E . ?. E ^L LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 A 001372790
 
 H