THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 CALIFORNIA STATE LIBRARY 
 
 all accounts for injuring such books or otherwise. 
 
 SKC. 15. Books may be taken from the Library by the 
 members of the Legislature and its oflicers (luring the 
 session of the ime. a ml at any time by the Governor and 
 
 I the officers of the Executive Department of this State, 
 who are required to keep their offices at the seat of 
 goverment, the Justices of the Supreme Court, the At- 
 
 j torney-General and the Trustees of the Library

 
 MARION HARLAND'S WORKS. 
 
 1. ALONE. 
 2. HIDDEN PATH. 
 3. MOSS SIDE.- 
 4. NEMESIS. 
 6. MIRIAM. 
 
 6. THE EMPTY HE ART. * 
 
 7. HELEN GARDNEB. 
 
 8. SUNNYBANK. - 
 
 9. HUSBANDS AND HOMES. 
 10. RUBY'S HUSBAND. 
 11. PHEMIE'S TEMPTATION. 
 
 12. AT LAST. 
 
 13. TRUE AS STEEL. - 
 
 14. JESSAMINE. ~ 
 
 15. FBOM MY YOUTH UP. (New.) 
 
 'The Novels of Marion Harland are of surpassing ex- 
 cellence. By intrinsic power of character-draw- 
 ing and descriptive facility, they hold 
 the reader's attention with the 
 most intense interest 
 
 All published uniform with this volume. Price $1.60 
 each, and sent/ree by mail, on receipt of price, 
 
 BY 
 G. W. CAKXETON & CO., 
 
 New York.
 
 THE EMPTY HEART; 
 
 OB, 
 HUSKS. 
 
 "FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE." 
 
 BY 
 
 MAKION 
 
 AUTHOR Or 
 
 HIDDEN PATH," "NEMESIS," "MOSS-SIDE," "MIB1AM," "HI 
 GARDNER," " SUNNYBANK," "HUSBANDS AND HOMES," "BUSY'S 
 HUSBAND," " PHEMIE'S TEMPTATION," ETC. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 Carleton, Publisher, Madison Sqtiare. 
 
 LONDON I S. LOW, SON, & CO. 
 MDCCCLXXV.
 
 Entered, according to Act of Congress, In the year 1670, bf 
 
 II VIRGINIA TERHUNE, 
 
 la the Clerk's Offlot U toa District Court of the United States for the Soother* 
 District of New York. 
 
 JOHN F. TROW & SON, PRINTERS, 
 205-213 EAST i2TH ST., Nnw YoK
 
 ?$> 
 
 HUSKS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 IT was a decided uncompromising rainy day. There 
 were no showers, coquetted with by veering winds or 
 dubious mists, that at times grew brighter, as if the sun 
 were burning away their lining ; but a uniform expanse of 
 iron-gray clouds kept in close, grim column by a steady, 
 although not violent east wind sent straight lines of heavy 
 ram upon the earth. The naked trees, that, during the 
 earlier hours of the deluge had seemed to shiver for the 
 immature leaf-buds, so unfit to endure the rough handling 
 of the storm, now held out still, patient arms, the rising sap 
 curdled within their hearts. The gutters were brimming 
 streams, and the sidewalks were glazed with thin sheets of 
 water. 
 
 The block of buildings before which our story pauses, 
 was, as a glance would have showed the initiated in the 
 grades of Gotham life, highly respectable, even in the ram. 
 On a clear day when the half-folded blinds revealed th 
 lace, silken, and damask draperies within; when younj, 
 misses and masters galvanized show-blocks of purple and 
 fine linen, that would have passed muster behind the plate- 
 glass of Genin or Madame Demorest tripped after hoops, 
 or promenaded the smooth pavement ; when pretty, jaunty 
 one-horse carriages, and more pretentious equipages, each 
 with a pair of prancing steeds, and two "outside pas- 
 
 832729
 
 8 THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 sengers" in broadcloth and tinsel hat-bands, recehed and 
 discharged their loads before the brown-stone fronts had 
 the afore-mentioned spectator chanced to perambulate thia 
 not spacfous street, he would have conceded to it some 
 degree of the fashion claimed for it by its inhabitants. 
 There were larger houses and wider pavements to be had 
 for the same price a few blocks further on, in more than one 
 direction, but these were unanimously voted "less eligible" 
 and " deficient hi style," in spite of the fact that as good 
 and better materials were employed in their Construction, 
 and they were in all respects equal in external show and 
 inside finish to those in this model quarter. " But our 
 block has a certain air well I don't know what ; but it 
 is just the thing, you know, and so convenient ! So near 
 the Avenue !" would be the concluding argument. 
 
 The nameless, indescribable charm of the locality lay in 
 the last clause. " Just step around the corner and you are 
 in the Avenue," said the favored dwellers in this vicinity, 
 as the climax in the description of their abode, and " that 
 way fashion lies" to every right-minded New Yorker of the 
 feminine gender. 
 
 But the aristocratic quiet of the neighborhood, rendered 
 oppressive and depressing by the gloom of the day, was 
 disturbed by a discordant sound a child's cry ; and what 
 was especially martyrizing to refined auriculars, the lament 
 had the unmistakable plebeian accent. The passionate 
 scream with which the pampered darling of the nursery 
 resents interference with his rights and liberty of tyranny, 
 or the angry remonstrance of his injured playmates, would 
 have been quite another species of natural eloquence, as 
 regards both quality and force, from the weak, broken wail 
 that sobbed along the wet streets. Moreover, what re- 
 spectable child could be abroad on foot in this weather I 
 So, the disrespectable juvenile pursued her melancholy way
 
 unnoticed and unquestioned until she reached the middle 
 of. the square. There a face appeared at a window in tho 
 second story of a house which only differed from those to 
 its right, left and opposite in the number upon the door 
 vanished, and in half a minute more a young lady appeared 
 in the sheltered vestibule. 
 
 ; ' "W hat is the matter, little girl ?" 
 
 The tone was not winning, yet the sobs ceased, and the 
 child looked up, as to a friendly questioner* She was about 
 eleven years of age, if one had judged from her size and 
 form ; but her features were pinched into unnatural maturity. 
 Her attire was wretched, at its best estate; now, soaked 
 by the rain, the dingy hood drooped over her eyes ; the 
 dark cotton shawl retained not one of its original colors, 
 and the muddy dress flapped and dripped about her ankles. 
 Upon one foot she wore an old cloth gaiter, probably 
 picked up from an ash-heap ; the remains of a "more sorry 
 slipper were tied around the other. 
 
 " I am so cold and wet, and my matches is all sp'ilt !" 
 she answered in a dolorous tone, lifting the corner of a 
 scrap of oil-cloth, which covered a basket, tucked for further 
 security, under her shawl. 
 
 " No wonder ! What else could you expect, if you 
 would go out to sell them on a day like this ? Go down 
 into the area, there, and watt until I let you in." 
 
 The precaution was a wise one. No servant in that well- 
 regulated household, would have admitted so questionable a 
 6gure as that which crept after their young mistress into 
 the comfortable kitchen. The cook paused in the act of 
 dissecting a chicken ; the butler on carriage days, tho 
 footman checked his flirtation with the plump and laugh- 
 ing chambermaid, to stare at the wretched apparition. 
 The scrutiny of the first named functionary was speedily 
 diverted to the dirty trail left by the intruder upon the 
 1*
 
 10 THE EMPTY HEART; OB, 
 
 carpet. A scowl puckered her red face, and her wrathful 
 glance included both of the visitants as alike guilty of this 
 desecration of her premises. The housemaid rolled up her 
 eyes and clasped her hands in dumb show of horror and 
 contempt, to her gallant, who replied with a shrug and a 
 grin. But not a word of remonstrance or inquiry was 
 spoken. It was rather a habit of this young lady's to have 
 her own way whenever she could, and that she was bent 
 upon doing this now was clear. 
 
 " Sit down !" she said, bringing up a chair to the fire. 
 
 The storm-beaten wanderer obeyed, and eagerly held up 
 her sodden feet to the red grate. 
 
 " Have you no better shoes than those ?" 
 
 " No, ma'am." 
 
 " Humph ! Nor dress nor shawl ?" 
 
 " No, ma'am." 
 
 " Are you hungry ?" 
 
 A ray shot from the swollen eyes. " Yes, ma'am !" 
 
 The lady disappeared in the pantry and presently re- 
 turned with five or six slices of bread and butter hastily cut 
 and thickly spread, with cheese and cold meat between 
 them. 
 
 "Eat!" She thrust them into the match-girl's fingers. 
 " "Wait here, while I go and look for some clothes for you." 
 
 As may be supposed, the insulted oracle of kitchen mys- 
 teries improved the time of the benefactress's absence by a 
 very plain expression of her sentiments towardsbeggars in 
 general, and this one in particular ; which harangue was 
 received with applause by her fellow-servants, and perfect , 
 equanimity by its object. She munched her sandwiches 
 with greedy satisfaction, watching, the while, the little 
 clouds of steam that ascended from her heated toes. She 
 was, to all appearance, neither a sensitive nor intelligent 
 shild, and had known too much of animal want and suffer-
 
 H TJ 8 K 8 . 11 
 
 ing to allow trifles to spoil her enjoyment of whatever 
 physical comfort fell to her lot. Her mother af home 
 could scold quite as virulently as the cook was now doing, 
 and she was more afraid of her anger, because she beat 
 while sbe berated her. She was convinced that she stood 
 m no such peril here, for her protectress was one in power. 
 
 " Have you eaten enough ?" said the clear, abrupt voice 
 behind her, as she held two sandwiches in her fingers, 
 without offering to put them to her lips. 
 
 " Yes, ma'am. May I take 'em home ?" 
 
 " Certainly, if you like. Stand up, and take off your 
 shawl." 
 
 She put around the forlorn figure a thick cloak, rusty and 
 obsolete in fashion, but which was a warm and ample 
 covering for the child, extending to the hem of her dress. 
 The damp elf-locks were hidden by a knitted hood ; and, for 
 the feet, there were stockings and shoes, and a pair of 
 India-rubbers to protect these last from the water. 
 
 " Now," said the Humane Society of One, when the 
 refitting was at an end, " where do you live? Never mind ! 
 I don't care to know that yet! Here is a small umbrella 
 a good one which belongs to me. I have no other for 
 myself when I go out in bad weather. I mean to lend n to 
 you, to-day, upon the condition that you will bring it back 
 to-morrow, or the first clear day. Will you do it ?" 
 
 The promise was readily given. 
 
 "Here's an old thing, Miss Sarah !" ventured the butler, 
 respectfully ; producing a bulky, ragged cotton umbrella 
 from a corner of the kitchen closet. "It's risky trusting 
 Buch as that with your nice silk one." 
 
 " That will let in the rain, and is entirely too large for 
 her to carry. You understand, child ? You are to bring 
 this safely back to me, the first time the sun shines. Can 
 you find your way to this house again ?"
 
 12 THE EMPTY HEART; OB, 
 
 " Oil yea, ma'am, easy ! Thank you, ma'am !" 
 
 She dropped an awkward courtesy, as Miss Sarah heW 
 open the door for her to pass, and went out into the rain-- 
 warm, dry, and shielded against further damage from the 
 storm. 
 
 Unheeding the significant looks of the culinary cabinet, 
 Sarah Hunt turned away and ascended the stairs. She was 
 a striking-looking girl, although her features, when in 
 repose, could claim neither beauty of form nor expression. 
 Her complexion was dark and pale, with a slight tinge of 
 olive, and her hair a deep brown, lips whose compression 
 was habitual, an aquiline nose, and eyes that changed from 
 dreamy hazel to midnight blackness at the call of mind or 
 feeling, gave marked character to her countenance. Her 
 sententious style of address to the child she had just dis- 
 missed was natural, and usual to her in ordinary conversa- 
 tion, as was also the gravity, verging upon sombreness, which 
 had not once during the interview relaxed into a smile. 
 
 The family sitting-room, her destination at present, and 
 to which we will take the liberty of preceding her, was 
 furnished elegantly and substantially; and there, leaning 
 back in lounging-chairs, were Miss Lucy Hunt, the eldest 
 daughter of the household, and her bosom friend, Miss 
 Victoria West. Each held and wielded a crochet-needle, 
 and had upon her lap a basket of many-hued balls of double 
 or single zephyr worsted, or Shetland or Saxony wool, or 
 whatever was the fashionable article for such pretty trifling 
 at that date. Miss West had completed one-quarter of a 
 shawl for herself, white and scarlet; and her friend had 
 made precisely the same progress in the arduous manufac- 
 ture of one w T hose centre was white and its border blue. 
 
 "Yours will be the prettiest," remarked Lucy regret- 
 fully. " Blue never looks well in worsteds. Why, I can't 
 say, I'm sure. It is too bad that I can wear so few othei
 
 HUSKS. 13 
 
 eoUi c. ! But I am such a fright in pink, or scarlet, or any 
 ghadfc of red !" 
 
 " Aa if you could be a fright in any thing !" returned her 
 companion, with seeming indignation. 
 
 Lucy smiled, showing a set of faultless teeth that, to a 
 stranger's first glance, wotild have appeared by far the most 
 attractive point in her physiognomy. If closer examination 
 discovered that her skin was pearly in whiteness and trans- 
 parency, that her form was exquisite, with a sort of volup- 
 tuous grace; her hands worthy, in shape and hue, to 
 become a sculptor's model ; still, in the cold, unflattering 
 light of this rainy afternoon, her want of color, her light 
 gray eyes, her yellow hair, drawn straight back from the 
 broad, low brow, precluded the idea that she could ever, 
 with all the accessories of artificial glare, dress, and anima- 
 tion, be more than a merely pretty girl. Miss West knew 
 better, and Lucy realized the power of her own charms 
 w r ith full and complete complacency. Secure in this pleas- 
 ant self-appreciation, she could afford to be careless as to 
 her everyday looks and home-people. She saw and enjoyed 
 the manifest surprise of those who, having seen her once in 
 morning deshabille, beheld her afterwards in elaborate 
 evening toilet. Then the abundant hair, waved in golden 
 ripples aboxit the classic head, the most artfully siftrple of 
 tasteful ornaments a camellia, a rosebud, or a pearl hairpin, 
 its sole adornment; her eyes, large, full, and soft, were 
 blue instead of gray, while the heat of the assembly-room, 
 the excitement of the crowd, or the exultation of gratified 
 vanity supplied the rounded cheek with rich bloom, and 
 dewy vermillion to the lips. But nature's rarest gift to her 
 was her voice, a mellow contralto, whose skilful modulations 
 stole refreshingly to the senses amid the sharp clash of 
 strained and higher tones, the castanet-like jingle which 
 most American belles ring unmercifully into the ears of
 
 14 THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 their auditors. Lucy Hunt was not " a great talker," still 
 less was she piofound or brilliant when she did speak; yet 
 she invariably conveyed the impression to the mind of a 
 new acquaintance of a thoroughly cultivated woman, one 
 whose acquirements were far beyond her modest exhibition 
 of thought and sentiment. The most commonplace phrase 
 came smoothly and roundly from her tongue, and he was 
 censorious indeed who was willing to lose the pleasuse 
 afforded by its musical utterance in weighing its meaning 
 At school she had never been diligent, except in the study 
 of music, and her pains-taking in this respect was rewarded 
 by the reputation, justly earned, of being the finest vocalist 
 in her circle of associates. In society she shone as a rising 
 star of the first magnitude ; at home she was happy, cheer 
 ful, and indolently, amiable. Why should she be otherwise ? 
 From her babyhood she had been petted and admired by 
 her family, and the world her world was as ready with 
 its meed of the adulation which was her element. 
 
 There were, besides the two sisters already introduced to 
 the reader, three other children in the Hunt household a 
 couple of sturdy lads, twelve and fourteen years of age, and 
 little Jeannie, a delicate child of six, whom Lucy caressed 
 with pet titles and sugar-p^imbs of flattery, and Sarah 
 served in secret and idolatrous fondness. This family it 
 was Mrs. Hunt's care and pride to rear and maintain, not 
 only in comfort, but apparent luxury, upon the salary which 
 her husband received as cashier of a prominent city bank, 
 an income sufficient to support them in modest elegance, 
 but which few besides Mrs. Hunt could have stretched to 
 cover the expenses of their ostensible style of living. But 
 this notable manager had learned economy in excellent 
 schools ; primarily as a country girl, whose holiday finery 
 was purchased with the proceeds of her own butter-making 
 and poultry-yard ; then as the brisk, lively wife of the
 
 HUSK 8. 15 
 
 young clerk, whose slender salary had, up" to the time of 
 his marriage, barely sufficed to pay for his own board and 
 clothes, and whose only vested capital was his pen, his good 
 character, and perfect knowledge of book-keeping. But if 
 his help-meet were a clever housewife, she was likewise am- 
 bitious. With the exception of the sum requisite for the 
 yearly payment of the premium upon Mr. Hunt's life-in- 
 surance policy, their annual expenses devoured every cent 
 of their receipts. Indeed, it was currently believed among 
 outsiders that they had other resources than the cashier's 
 wages, and Mrs. Hunt indirectly encouraged the report 
 that she held property in her own right. They lived " as 
 their neighbors did," as " everybody in their position in 
 society was bound to do," and " everybody" else was too 
 intent upon his personal affairs, too busy with his private 
 train of plans and operations to examine closely the cogs, 
 and levers, and boilers of the locomotive Hunt. If it went 
 ahead, and kept upon the track assigned it, was always " up 
 to time," and avoided unpleasant collisions, it was nobody's 
 business how the steam was gotten up. 
 
 Every human plant of note has its parasite, and Miss 
 Lucy Hunt was not without hers. There existed no reason 
 in the outward circumstances of the two girls why Miss 
 Hunt should not court Miss West, rather than Miss West 
 toady Miss Hunt. In a business that is, a pecuniary 
 point of view, the former appeared the more likely state oi 
 the case, inasmuch as Victoria's father was a stock-broker 
 of reputed wealth, and with a probable millionaireship in 
 prospective, if his future good fortune equalled his past, 
 while Mr. Hunt, as has been stated, depended entirely upon 
 a certain and not an extravagant stipend. But the girls 
 became intimate at school, " came out" the same winter at 
 the same party, where >Lucy created a " sensation," and 
 Victoria would have been overlooked but for the sentimen-
 
 16 THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 tal connection between the debutantes. Since then, although 
 the confidante would have scouted the imputation of inter- 
 ested motives with virtuous indignation of wounded affec- 
 tion, she had nevertheless " made a good thing of it," as 
 her respected father would have phrased it, by playing 
 hanger-on, second fiddle, and trumpeter-general to the 
 belle. 
 
 " As if you could he a fright in any thing !" she had said 
 naturally, and perhaps sincerely. 
 
 Lucy's smile was succeeded by a serious look. " I am 
 sadly tempted sometimes ! Those lovely peach-blossom 
 hats that you and Sarah wore this past winter were abso- 
 lute trials to my sense of right ! And no longer ago than 
 Mrs. Grossman's party I was guilty of the sin of coveting 
 the complexion that enabled Maria Johnston to wear that 
 sweet rose-colored silk, with the lace skirt looped with 
 rosebuds." 
 
 " You envy Maria Johnston's complexion ? Why don't 
 you go further, and fall in love with her small eyes and pug 
 nose ?" inquired Victoria, severely ironical. "1 have heard 
 that people were never contented with their own gifts, but 
 such a case of blindness as this has never before come under 
 ray observation." 
 
 "No, no ! I am not quite so humble with regard to my 
 personal appearance as you would make out. Yet" and 
 the plaintive voice might have been the murmur of a griev- 
 ing angel " I think that there are compensations in the lot 
 of plain people that we know nothing about. They escape 
 the censure and unkind remarks that uncharitable and 
 envious women heap upon those who happen to be attrac- 
 tive. Now, there is Sarah, who never cares a button about 
 her looks, so long as her "hair is smooth and her dress clean 
 and whole. She hates parties, and is glad of any excuse to 
 stay out of the parlor when gentlemen call. Give her her
 
 HUSKS. 17 
 
 books and that 'snuggery,' as she calls it, of a room up- 
 stairs, and she is happier than if she were in the gayest 
 company in the world. Who criticises her ?.. Nobody is 
 jealous of her face, or manners, or conversation. And she 
 would not mind it if they were." 
 
 "She has a more independent nature than yours, my 
 dear. I, for one, am rejoiced that you two are unlike. I 
 could not endure to lose my darling friend, and somehow I 
 never could understand Sarah ; never could get near to her, 
 you know." 
 
 "I do not wonder at that. It is just so with me, sisters 
 though we are. However, Sarah means well, if her manner 
 is blunt and sometimes cold." 
 
 The entrance of the person under discussion checked the 
 conversation at this point, and both young ladies besjan to 
 count their stitches aloud, to avoid the appearance of the 
 foolish embarrassment that ever overtakes a brace of gossips 
 at being thus interrupted. 
 
 Sarah's work lay on her stand near the window, where 
 she -had thrown it when the crying child attracted her 
 notice, and she resumed it now. It was a dress for Jean- 
 nie. It was a rare occurrence for the second sister to 
 fashion any thing so pretty and gay for her own wear. 
 
 " Have you taken to fancy-work at last ?" asked Victoria, 
 seeing that the unmade skirt was stamped with a rich, 
 heavy pattern for embroidery. 
 
 " Xo !" Sarah did not affect her sister's friend, and did 
 not trouble herself to disguise her feelings towards her. 
 
 Lucy explained : " she is making it for Jeannie. She 
 does every thing for that child." 
 
 " You are very silterly and kind, I am sure," Victoria 
 continued, patronizingly. " You must quite despise Lucy 
 and myself for thinking of and doing so much for ourselves, 
 While you are such a pattern of self-denial."
 
 18 THE EMPTY HEART; OB, 
 
 A blaze shot up in Sarah's eye ; then she said, coldly : **i 
 am not self-denying. Hare I ever found fault with you or 
 Lucy for doing as you like ?" 
 
 " Oh no, my dear ! But you take no interest in what we 
 enjoy. I dare say, now, you would think it a dull business 
 to work day after day for three or four weeks together, 
 crocheting a shawl which may go out of fashion before on 
 has a chance to sport it at a watering-place."' 
 
 "I certainly should!" The curl of the thin upper lip 
 would have answered for her had she not spoken. 
 
 " And you hate the very sight of shell-work, and cone- 
 frames, and Grecian painting, and all such vanities ?" 
 
 " If I must speak the truth, I do most heartily!" 
 
 Victoria was not easily turned from her purpose. 
 
 " Come, Sarah ! Tell us what you would have us, poor 
 trifling, silly things, do to kill the time." 
 
 " If you must be a murderer, do it in your own way. I 
 have nothing to say in the matter." 
 
 " Do you mean that time never hangs upon your hands ? 
 that you are never ennuyee Uasee?" 
 
 " Speak English, and I will answer you !" 
 
 " I want to know," said the persevering tormentor, " if 
 the hum-drum books up-stairs, your paint box, and your 
 easel are such good company that you are contented and 
 happy always when you are with them ? if you never get 
 cross with yourself and everybody else, and wonder what 
 you were put into the world for, and why the world itself 
 was made, and wish that you could sleep until doomsday. 
 Do you ever feel like this ?" 
 
 Sarah lifted her eyes with a wonderbig, incredulous stare 
 at the flippant inquisitor. 
 
 " I have felt thus, but I did not suppose that you had !" 
 
 " Oh ! I have a ' blue' turn now and then, but the disease 
 s always more dangerous with girls of your sort the read*
 
 HTJBK8. 19 
 
 ing, thinking, -strong-minded kind. And the older you 
 grow, the worse you will get. I haven't as much book 
 knowledge as you have, but I know more of the world we 
 we live in. Take my advice and settle- down to woman's 
 right sphere. Drive away the vapors with beaux and fancy- 
 work now. By and by, a husband and an establishment 
 will give you something else to think about." 
 
 Sarah would have replied, but Lucy broke in with a 
 laugh, light and sweet. 
 
 " You two are always at cross-questions ! Why can't 
 you be satisfied to let one another alone? Sarah and 1 
 never quarrel, Yic. We agree to disagree. She gives me 
 my way and I don't meddle with her. If she likes the 
 blues (they say some people enjoy them), where's the harm 
 of her having them ? They never come near me. If I get 
 stupid, I go to bed and sleep it off. Don't you think I have 
 done ten rows, since breakfast ? What a godsend a rainy 
 day is, when one has a fascinating piece of work on hand !" 
 
 Too proud to seem to abandon the field, Sarah sat for 
 half an hour longer, stitching steadily away at the compli- 
 cated tracery upon the ground to be worked ; then, as the 
 dimmer daylight caused the others to draw near to the 
 windows, she pushed aside her table and put by her sew- 
 ing. 
 
 " Don't let us drive you away !" said Victoria's mock- 
 polite tones ; and Lucy added, kindly, " We do not mean 
 to disturb you, Sarah, dear !" 
 
 " You do not disturb me !" was the reply to the latter. 
 The other had neither glance nor word. 
 
 Up another flight she mounted to a room, much smaller 
 than that she had left and far plainer in its appointments. 
 The higher one went in Mrs. Hunt's house, the less splendid 
 every thing became. In the state spare chamber a story 
 below nothing of comfort and luxury was wanting, from
 
 20 THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 the carved rose-wood bedstead, with the regal-looking 
 canopy overshadowing its pillows, down to the Bohemian 
 and cut-glass scent bottles upon the marble of the dressing- 
 cabinet. Sarah's carpet was common ingrain, neither pretty 
 nor new ; a cottage bedstead of painted wood ; bureau and 
 wash-stand of the same material ; two chairs, and a small 
 table were all the furniture her mother adjudged needful. 
 To these the girl had added, from her pittance of pocket- 
 money, a set of hanging bookshelves ; a portable desk, an 
 easel, and two or three good engravings that adorned the 
 walls. 
 
 She locked the door after her, with a kind of angry satis- 
 faction in her face, and going straight to the window, leaned 
 upon the sash, and looked down into the flooded street. 
 Her eyes were dry, but there was a heaving in her throat ; 
 a tightening of the muscles about the moiith that would 
 have made most women weep for very relief. Sarah Hunt 
 would have scorned the ease purchased by such weakness. 
 She did not despise the sad loneliness that girt her around, 
 any more than the captive warrior does his cell of iron or 
 stone, but she held that it would be a cowardly succumbing 
 to Fate, to wound herself by dashing against the grim 
 walls, or bring out their sleeping echoes by womanish wail- 
 ings. So, presently, her throat ached and throbbed no 
 longer ; the rigid muscles compressed the lips no more than 
 was their wont ; the hands loosened their vise-like grasp of 
 one another the brain was free to think. 
 
 The rain fell still with a solemn stateliness that befitted 
 the coming twilight. It was a silent storm for one so heavy. 
 The faint hum of the city ; the tinkle of the car-bell, three 
 blocks off, arose to her window above its plashing fall upon 
 the pavement, and the trickle of the drops from sash to sill. 
 A stream of light from the lamp-post at the corner flashed 
 athwart the sidewalk, glittered upon the swollen gutter
 
 H TJ S K 8 . 21 
 
 made gold and silver blocks of the paving-stones. As ii 
 they had waited for this signal, other lights now shone out 
 from the windows across the way, and from time to time a 
 broad, transient gleam from opening doors, told of the re- 
 turn of fathers, brothers, husbands from their day's employ- 
 ment. 
 
 " la happy homes he sees the light." 
 
 What was there in the line that should make the watcher 
 catch her breath in sudden pain, and lay her hand, with 
 stifled moan, over her heart, as she repeated it aloud? 
 
 Witness with me, ye maternal Hunts, who read this page 
 you, the careful and solicitous about many things in 
 nothing more ambitious than for the advancement and suc- 
 cess in life of your offspring add your testimony to mine 
 that this girl had all that was desirable for one of her age 
 and in her circumstances. A house as handsome as her 
 neighbors, an education unsurpassed by any of her late 
 school-fellows, a " position in society ;" a reasonable share 
 of good looks, which only required care and cultivation on 
 her part, to become really distingue ; indulgent parents and 
 peaceably inclined brothers and sisters ; read the list, and 
 solve me, if you can, the enigma of this perturbed spirit 
 this hungering and thirsting after contraband or unattaina- 
 ble pleasures. 
 
 " Some girls will do so !" Mrs. Hunt assured her husband 
 when he "thought that Sarah did not seem so happy as 
 Lucy. He hoped nothing ailed the child. Perhaps the doc- 
 tor had better drop in to see her. Could she be fretting for 
 any thing ? or had her feelings been hurt ?" 
 
 " Bless your soul, Mr. H. ! there's nothing the matter 
 with her. She always was kind o' queer !" (Mrs. Hunt did 
 not use her company grammar every day), and she's jest 
 eighteen year old. That's the whole of it! She'll come 
 'round in good time, 'specially if Lucy should marry ofl
 
 22 THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 pretty soon. When Sarah is ' Miss Hunt,' she'll be as crazy 
 for beaux and company, and as ready to jump at a prime 
 offer as any of 'em. I know girls' ways !" 
 
 Nor am I prepared to say that Sarah, as she quitted her 
 look-out at the high window, at the sound of the dinner- 
 bell, could have given a more satisfactory reason for tier 
 discontent and want of spirits.
 
 HUSKS 23 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 MRS. HUNT'S china, like her grammar, was of two sorts. 
 When her duty to " society" or the necessity of circum- 
 stances forced her to be hospitable, she "did the thing" 
 well. At a notice of moderate length, she could get up a 
 handsome, if not a bountiful entertainment, to which no 
 man need have been ashamed to seat his friends, and when 
 the occasion warranted tbe display, she grudged not the 
 . *' other" china, the other silver, nor the other table-linen. 
 
 She did, however, set her face, like a broad flint, against 
 the irregularity of inviting chance visitors to partake of the 
 family bread and salt. Intimate as Victoria West was with 
 Lucy, she met only a civil show of regretful acquiescence in 
 her proposal to go home, as the dinner hour approached ; 
 and Robbie or Richard Hunt was promptly offered to escort 
 her to her abode upon the next block. If she remained to 
 luncheon, as she would do occasionally, Lucy, in her hearing, 
 begged her mother to excuse them from going down, and 
 to send up two cups of tea, and a few sandwiches to the 
 sitting-room. This slight repast was served by the butler 
 upon a neat little tray, in a tete-drtete service a Christmas 
 gift to Lucy, "from her ever-loving Victoria," and sen- 
 timentally dedicated to the use of the pair of adopted 
 sisters. 
 
 Therefore, Sarah was not surprised to find Victoria gone, 
 despite the storm, when she entered the dining-room. An 
 immense crumb-cloth covered the carpet ; a row of shrouded
 
 24 THE EMPTY HEART; OK, 
 
 chairs, packed elbow to elbow, stood against the furthei 
 end of the apartment, and a set of very ordinary ones were 
 around the table. The cloth was of whity-brown material, 
 and the dishes a motley collection of halt and maimed for 
 all Mrs. Hunt's vigilance could not make servants miracu- 
 lously careful. There was no propriety, however, according 
 to her system of economy, in condemning a plate or cup as 
 past service, because it had come off second best, to the ex- 
 tent of a crack, or nick, or an amputated handle in an en- 
 counter with some other member of the crockery tribe. 
 " While there is life there is hope," was, in these cases, 
 paraphrased by her to the effect that while a utensil would 
 hold water, it was too good to be thrown away. 
 
 It was not a sumptuous repast to which Sarah sat down 
 after she had placed Jeannie in her high chair and tied the 
 great gingham bib around her neck. On the contrary, it 
 came near being a scant provision for the healthy appetites 
 of seven people. Before Mr. Hunt, a mild, quiet little man, 
 was a dish of stew, which was, in its peculiar line, a thing 
 not of beauty but wonder. 
 
 Only a few days since, as I stood near the stall of a 
 poultry vender in market, a lady inquired for chickens. 
 
 "Yes, ma'am. Roasting size, ma'am ?" 
 
 " No ; I want them for a fricassee." 
 
 " Ah" with a look of shrewd intelligence. " Then, 
 ma'am, I take it, you don't care to have 'em overly tender. 
 Most ladies prefers the old ones for fricassee ; they come 
 cheaper, and very often bile tender." 
 
 " Thank you," was the amused rejoinder. " The dif 
 fereuce in the price is no consideration where the safety of 
 our teeth is concerned." 
 
 Mrs. Hunt suffered not these scruples to hinder her 
 negotiations with knowing poultry merchants. A cent less 
 per pound would be three cents saved upon the chicken,
 
 H TT S K S . 25 
 
 and three cents would buy enough turnips for dinner. It 
 is an ignorant housekeeper who needs to be informed that 
 stewed chicken "goes further" than the same fowl made 
 into any other savory combination. Mrs. Hunt's stews were 
 concocted after a receipt of her own invention. Imprimis, 
 one chicken, weight varying from two and a half to three 
 pounds ; salt pork, a quarter of a pound ; gravy abundant ; 
 dumplings innumerable. It was all " stew ;" and if Jean- 
 nie's share was but a bare drumstick, swimming in gravy 
 and buried in boiled dough, there was the chicken flavor 
 through the portion. 
 
 For classic antecedent the reader is referred to the fable 
 of the rose-scented clay. 
 
 To leave the principal dish, which justice to Mrs. Hunt's 
 genius would not permit me to pass with briefer mention, 
 there were, besides, potatoes, served whole (mashed ones 
 required butter and cream), turnips, and bread, and Mrs. 
 Hunt presided over a shallow platter of pork and beans. 
 What was left of that dish would be warmed over to piece 
 out breakfast next morning. The children behaved well, 
 and the most minute by-law of table etiquette was observed 
 with a strictness that imparted an air of ceremonious re- 
 straint to the meal. If Mrs. Hunt's young people were not 
 in time finished ladies and gentlemen, it was not her fault, 
 nor was it for the lack of drilling. 
 
 " Do as I tell you, not as I do," were her orders in these 
 matters. Since Lucy had completed her education, the 
 mother added : " Look at your sister ; she is never 
 awkward !" This was true : Lucy was born the fine lady. 
 Refinement of manner and grace of movement, an instinc- 
 tive avoidance of whatever looked common or underbred 
 were a part of her nature. Only the usage of years had 
 accustomed her to her mother's somewhat "fussy" ways. 
 
 Had she met her in company as Mrs. Anybody else, she 
 2
 
 26 THE EMPTY HEABTJ OB, 
 
 would have yielded her the right of way with a fteliug of 
 amazement and amiable pity that one who meant so well 
 should so often overdo the thing she aimed to accomplish 
 easily and gracefully. Following out her excellent system 
 of training, the worthy dame demanded as diligent and 
 alert waiting from her butler as if she were having a dinner 
 party. The eggless rice pudding was brought on with a 
 state that was absolutely ludicrous ; but the family were 
 used 'to the unsubstantial show, and took it as a matter of 
 course. 
 
 After the meal was over Mrs. Hunt withdrew to the 
 kitchen for a short conference with the cook and a sharp 
 glance through the closets. It was impossible that the 
 abstraction of six slices of bread from the baking of the 
 preceding day, three thick pieces of cheese, and more than 
 half of the cold meat she had decided would, in the form of 
 hash, supply the oth<K piece of the breakfast at which the 
 beans were to assist, should escape her notice. 
 
 Mr. Hunt was reading the evening paper by the drop 
 light in the sitting room, Lucy was busy with her shawl^ 
 and Sarah told a simple tale in a low voice to Jeannie, as 
 she leaned upon her lap, when the wife and mother entered, 
 with something like a bluster. All present looked up, and 
 each one remarked the cloud upon her brow. 
 
 " What is the matter, mother ?" said Mr. Hunt, in a tone 
 not free from alarm. 
 
 " I am worried ! That's the whole of it ! I am down- 
 right vexed with you, Sarah, and surprised, too! What 
 upon earth possessed you, child, to take that beggar into my 
 kitchen to-day ? After all I have told you and tried to 
 learn you about these shameful impostors! I declare I was 
 beat out when I heard it. And to throw away provisions 
 and clothes upon such a brat !" 
 
 Lucy opened her great eyes at her sister, and Mr. Him*,
 
 HUSKS. 27 
 
 looked perplexedly towards his favorite, for at heart he waa 
 partial to his second child. 
 
 " I took the poor creature to the fire, mother, because she 
 was wet and cold ; I fed her because she was hungry ; I 
 gave her some old, warm clothes of mine because hers were 
 t-hiu and soaked with rain." 
 
 "Poor little girl!" murmured Jeannie, compassionately. 
 
 Sarah's hand closed instantly .over the little fingers. The 
 simple-hearted babe understood and sympathized with her 
 motive and act better than did her wiser elders. 
 
 " Oh, I have no doubt she told a pitiful story, and shed 
 enough tears to wet her through, if the rain had not done 
 it already. If you listen to what these wretches say, and 
 undertake to relieve their wants, you will soon have not a 
 dress to your back nor a house over your head. Why 
 didn't you send her to some society for the relief of the 
 poor ?" 
 
 " I did not know where' to find one, ma'am." 
 
 This plain truth, respectfully uttered, confounded Mrs. 
 Hunt for a second. 
 
 " Mrs. James is one of the managers in a Benevolent As- 
 sociation," she said, recovering herself. " You had ought 
 to have given your beggar her address." 
 
 " Even if I had known that fact, mother, the girl would 
 have been obliged to walk half a mile in the storm to find 
 this one manager. What do you suppose Mrs. James would 
 have done for her that was not in my power to perform ?" 
 
 " She would have asked the child whereabouts she lived, 
 and to-morrow she would have gone to hunt her up. H* 
 she found all as she had been told, which is not likely these 
 creatures don't give a right direction once in ten times why, 
 she would have brought the case before the board at their 
 next meeting, and they would help them, if neither of her 
 parents was a drinking character."
 
 28 THE EMPTY HEART, OR, 
 
 " God help the poor !" ejaculated Sarah, energetically. 
 " God help the poor, if this is man's style of relieving hia 
 starving brother ! Mother, do you think that hunger 
 pinches any the less when the famished being is told that 
 next week or next month may bring him one good meal ? 
 Will the promise of a bushel of coal or a blanket, to be 
 given ten days hence, warm the limbs that are freezing to- 
 night ? Is present help for present need, then, always un- 
 safe, imprudent, insane ?" 
 
 " That all sounds very fine, my dear." Mrs. Hunt grew 
 cool as her daughter waxed warm. " But when you have 
 seen as much of the world as I have, you will understand 
 how necessary it is to be careful about believing all that we 
 hear. Another thing you must not forget, and that is that 
 we are not able to give freely, no matter how much disposed 
 we may be to do so. Its pretty hard for a generous person 
 to say ' No,' but it can't be helped. People in our circum- 
 stances must learn this lesson." Mrs. Hunt sighed at 
 thought of tRe curb put upon her benevolent desires by 
 bitter necessity. " And after all, very few you've no idea 
 how few of these pretended sufferers are really in want." 
 
 This preluded a recital of sundry barefaced impositions 
 and successful swindles practised upon herself and acquain- 
 tances, to which Mr. Hunt subjoined certain of his personal 
 experiences, all tending to establish the principle that in a 
 vast majority of cases of seeming destitution the supplicant 
 was an accomplished rogue, and the giver of alms the victim 
 of his own soft heart and a villain's wiles. Jeannie drank 
 in every syllable, until her ideal beggar quite equalled the 
 ogre who would have made a light supper off of Hop-o'-my 
 Thumb and brothers. 
 
 "You gave this match-girl no money, I hope ?" said Mrg. 
 Uunt, at length. 
 
 " I did not, madam. I had none to give her." Impelled
 
 by her straightforward sense of honesty that would not 
 allow her to receive commendation for prudence she had 
 not shown, she said, bravely : " but I lent her my umbrella 
 upon her promise to return it to-morrow." 
 
 "WELL!" 
 
 Mrs. Hunt dropped her hands in her lap, and stared in 
 speechless dismay at her daughter. Even her husband felt 
 it his duty to express his disapprobation. 
 
 " That was very unwise, my daughter. You will never 
 see it again." 
 
 " I think differently, father." 
 
 " You are too easily imposed upon, Sarah. There is not 
 the least probability that your property will be returned. 
 Was it a good umbrella ?" 
 
 " It was the one I always use." 
 
 " Black silk, the best make, with a carved ivory handle 
 cost six dollars a month ago !" gasped Mrs. Hunt. " I 
 never heard of such a piece of shameful imprudence in all 
 my born days ! and I shouldn't wonder if you never once 
 thought to ask her where she lived, that you might send a 
 police officer after it, if the little thief didn't bring it back 
 to you?" 
 
 " I did think of it." Sarah paused, then forced out the 
 confession she foresaw would subject her to the charge of 
 yet more ridiculous folly. " I did think of it, but con- 
 cluded to throw the girl upon her honor, not to suggest the 
 theft to her by insinuating a doubt of her integrity." 
 
 Mr. Hunt was annoyed with and sorry for the culprit, yet 
 he could not help smiling at this high-flown generosity of 
 confidence. " You are certainly the most unsophisticated 
 girl of your age I ever met with, my daughter. I shall not 
 mind the loss of the umbrella if it prove to be the means 
 of giving you a lesson in human nature. In this world, 
 dear, it will not do to wear your heart upon your sleeve.
 
 SO THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 Never believe a pretty story until you have had the oppor- 
 tunity to ascertain for yourself whether it is true or false." 
 And with these titbits of worldly wisdom, the cashier 
 picked up his paper. 
 
 " Six dollars ! I declare I don't know what to say to you, 
 Sarah !" persisted the ruffled mother. " You cannot expect 
 me to buy you another umbrella this season. You must 
 give up your walks in damp weather after this. I can't say 
 that I'm very sorry for that, though. I never 'did fancy 
 your traipsing off two or three miles, rain or shine, like a 
 sewing girl." 
 
 " Very well, madam.!" 
 
 But, steadied by pride as was her voice, her heart sank at 
 the possibility of resigning the exercise upon which she 
 deemed that so much of her health, physical and mental, 
 depended. These long, solitary walks were one of the un- 
 American habits that earned for Sarah Hunt the reputation 
 of eccentricity. They were usually taken immediately after 
 breakfast, and few in the neighborhood who were abroad or 
 happened to look out at that hour, were not familiar witli 
 the straight, proud figure, habited in its walking dress of 
 gray and black, stout boots, and gray hat with black plume. 
 It was a uniform selected by herself, and which her mother 
 permitted her to assume, because it " looked genteel," and 
 became the wearer. Especially did she enjoy these tramps 
 when the threatening storm, in its early stages, kept others 
 of her class and sex at home. The untamed spirit found a 
 fierce pleasure in wrestling with the wind; the hail that 
 ushered in the snow-storm, as it beat in her face, called up 
 lustre to the eye and warm color to the cheek. To a soul 
 sickening of the glare and perfume of the artificial life to 
 which she was confined, the roughest and wildest aspects of 
 Dature were a welcome change. 
 
 I remember laughing heartily, as I doubt not you did
 
 31 
 
 also, dear render, if you saw it, at a cut which appeared 
 several years ago in the Punch department of Harper's 
 Magazine. A " wee toddler," perhaps four years old, with 
 a most lack-a-daisical expression upon her chubby visage, 
 accosts her grandmother after this fashion : " I am tired of 
 life, grandmamma! The world is hollow, and my doll is' 
 Btuifed with sawdust, and, if you please, ma'am, I should 
 like to go to a nunnery !" 
 
 Yet, that there are natures upon which the feeling of empti- 
 ness and longing herein burlesqued seizes in mere babyhood 
 is sadly true. And what wonder? From their cradles, 
 hundreds of children, in our so-called better classes, are fed 
 upon husks. A superficial education, in which all that is 
 not showy accomplishment is so dry and uninviting that the 
 student has little disposition to seek further for the rich 
 kernel, the strong meat of knowledge, is the preparatory 
 course to a premature introduction into the world, to many 
 the only phase of life they are permitted to see, a scene 
 where all is flash and froth, empty bubbles of prizes, chased 
 by men and women with empty heads, and oh, how often 
 empty, aching hearts ! Outside principles, outside affec- 
 tions, outside smiles, and most pitable of all, outside piety ! 
 Penury of heart and stomach at home ; abroad a parade 
 of reckless extravagance and ostentatious profession of fine 
 feeling and liberal sentiments ! 
 
 " Woe," cried the Preacher, " to them that make haste 
 to be rich !" If he had lived in our day, hi what biting 
 terms of reprobation and contempt would he have de 
 claimed against the insane ambition of those who forego 
 the solid comforts of judicious expenditure of a moderate 
 income would aiford ; spurn the holy quiet of domestic 
 joys neglect soul with heart culture in their haste to seem 
 rich, when Providence has seen that wealth is not to be 
 desired for them! Out. upon the disgusting, indecent race
 
 32 THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 and scramble! The worship of the golden calf is bad 
 enough, but when this bestial idolatry rises to such a pitch 
 of fanaticism, that in thousands of households, copies in 
 pinchbeck and plated- ware are set up and served, the spec- 
 tacle is too monstrous in its abomination ! This it is, that 
 crowds our counting-rooms with bankrupts and our state- 
 prisons with defaulters ; that is fast turning our ball-rooms 
 and other places of fashionable rendezvous, into vile carica- 
 tures of foreign courts, foreign manners^ and foreign vices ; 
 while the people we ape our chosen models and exem- 
 plars hold their sides in inextinguishable laughter at the 
 grave absurdity of our laborious imitation. It is no cause 
 for marvel, that, in just retribution, there should be sent a 
 panic-earthquake, every three years, to shake men to their 
 
 Such was the atmosphere in which Sarah Hunt had 
 always lived. In the code subscribed to by her mother, 
 and the many who lived and felt and panted and pushed as 
 she did for social distinction, nothing was of real, absolute 
 value except the hard cash. Gold and silver were facts. 
 All things else were comparative in use and worth. The 
 garment which, last winter, no lady felt dressed without, was 
 an obsolete horror this season. The pattern of curtains and 
 furniture that nearly drove the fortunate purchaser wild with 
 delight, three- years back, was now only fit for the auction 
 room. In vain might the poor depleted husband plead for 
 and extol their beauties. The fiat of fashion had gone forth, 
 and his better half seasoned his food with lamentations, and 
 moistened her pillow with tears until she carried her point. 
 We have intimated that Sarah was a peculiar girl. Whence 
 she derived her vigorous intellect ; her strong, original turn 
 of thought ; her deep heart, was a puzzle to those who 
 knew her parents. The mother was energetic, the father 
 sensible, but both were commonplace, and followed, like
 
 HTJ8K8. 33. 
 
 industrious puppets, in the wake of others. They were 
 pleased that Sarah brought home all the prizes offered at 
 school, and both considered that she gained a right, by 
 these victories, to pursue her studies at home, provided she 
 did not obtrude her singular views and tastes upon other 
 people. Mrs. Hunt sighed, frequently and loudly, in her 
 presence, that her genius had not been for shell, or bead, 01 
 worsted work, instead of for reading volumes, that did not 
 even decorate the show book-case in the library. 
 
 " If you must have so many books, why don't you pick 
 out them with the tasty bindings ?" she had asked her 
 daughter more than once. " And I wish you would paint 
 some bright, lively pictures, that would look handsome on 
 the walls, instead of those queer men and women and 
 cloudy things you have got up-stairs. I'd have 'em framed 
 right away, and be real proud to tell who done them.' 5 
 
 Sarah remained proof against such hints and temptations, 
 and, shrinking more and more from the uncongenial whirl 
 around her, she turned her eager, restless spirit into her 
 secret, inner life, where, at times, it was flattered into con- 
 tent by the idealities upon which it was fed ; at others, 
 ramped and raved, like any other chained wild thing. The 
 sweetest drop of pleasure she had tasted for many a day 
 was the thrill she experienced when the forlorn object she 
 had rescued from the power of the storm stood before her, 
 decently and comfortably clad. The rash confidence she 
 had reposed in so suspicious a stranger was the outgoing 
 of a heart too noble and true in every impulse to pause, for 
 a moment, to speculate upon the chances of another's good 
 or bad faith. The great world of the confessedly poor was 
 an unknown field to her one she longed to explore. Her 
 footsteps loitered more often near the entrance of some 
 narrow, reeking street or alley, down which she had prom- 
 ised her mother not ,to go, than on the spacious pave, where
 
 34 THE EMPTY HEART; OE, 
 
 ovei'-dressed women and foppish men baited at, and hung 
 around bewitching shop-windows. She wondered how such 
 throngs of breathing beings contrived to exist in those 
 fetid, cramped quarters ; how they lived, spoke, acted, felt. 
 The great tie of human brotherhood became daily more 
 tense, as she pondered these things in her heart. 
 
 On this particular day, as she sat, silent and thoughtful, 
 at her needle, the chit-chat of her companions less heeded 
 than the continual dropping of the rain without, the wail 
 of the shivering wanderer caused a painful vibration 
 through every nerve. The deed was done ! the experiment 
 was tried. She was ashamed that an event so trivial held 
 her eyes waking, far into the night. At least, she said to 
 herself, she would not be without a lesson of some kind ; 
 would learn whether deceit and falsehood prevailed in the 
 lowest, as well as the higher ranks of society. If, as she 
 still strove to belieA'e would be the case, the child returned 
 the borrowed property, she would make use of her, as the 
 means of entering upon a new sphere of research and ac- 
 tion. After so complete a refutation of her theories re- 
 spiting the utter corruption of all people, who had not 
 enough to eat and to wear, her mother could not withhold 
 her consent to her petition that she might become a lay- 
 missionary a present relief committee to a small portion 
 of the suffering, toiling, ill-paid masses. She would then 
 have a work to do something to call out energy and en- 
 gage feeling in healthy exercise and soothed by the 
 romantic vision, she fell asleep with a smile upon her lips. 
 
 The morning dawned between breaking clouds, that soon 
 left the sky clear and bright. All through the day Sarah 
 watched for her visitor of the preceding day watched with 
 nervousness she could not wholly conceal, from morn to 
 night, for two, three days for a week. Then she looked 
 no longer Avhile at home; her question, at entering the
 
 35 
 
 house, after a drive or walk, ceased to be, "Has any thing 
 been left for me?" So palpable was her disappointment 
 that her father forbore to make any allusion to her loss, and 
 Lucy, albeit she was somewhat obtuse to the finer points of 
 her sister's character, good-naturedly interposed to change 
 the subject, when her mother sought to improve the inci- 
 dent to her daughter's edification and future profit. Mr. ' 
 Hunt was right in supposing that the " unsophisticated 
 girl" had learned something. Whether she were happier or 
 better for the lesson thus acquired was another thing. 
 
 Once again Sarah had an opportunity for speech with her 
 delinquent protege. Two months later she was passing 
 through a by-street in a mean neighborhood, very far up 
 town, in her morning ramble, when her progress was ar- 
 rested, for an instant, by two boys, who ran out of an alley 
 across the walk. One overtook the other just in front of 
 the lady, and catching him by his ragged collar, threw him 
 down. 
 
 " That's right ! beat him well ! I'll help !" screeched a 
 girl, rushing out of the court whence they had come. 
 
 Grinning with delight, she flung herself upon the pros- 
 trate form and commenced a vigorous assault, accompanied 
 by language alike foul and profane. 
 
 Sarah recognized her instantly, and while she paused in 
 mingled amazement and anger, the child looked up and saw 
 hei*. In a twinkling she relinquished her grip of the boy's 
 hair jumped up and sped back into the dirty alley, with 
 the blind haste of guilty fear. 
 
 Yes ! Mr. Hunt was a wise man, who knew the world, 
 and trebly sage in her generation, was his spouse. If their 
 daughter had never acknowledged this before, she did now, 
 in her disgust and dismay at this utter overthrow of her 
 dreams of the virtuous simplicity to be found in lowly 
 homes, where riches and fashions were things unknown.
 
 36 THE EMPTY HEART: OR, 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 SUMMER had come to the country with its bloom and its 
 beauty, its harvests and its holidays. In town, its fever 
 heat drew noisome smells from overcharged sewers, and 
 the black, oily paste to which the shower that should have 
 been refreshing had changed the dust of crowded thorough- 
 fares. Cleaner pavements, in the higher portions of the city, 
 burned through shoe-soles ; glass radiated heat to polished 
 stone, and stone radiated, in its turn, to brick, that waited 
 until the evening to throw oif its surplus caloric in hot, suf- 
 focating waves that made yet more oppressive the close 
 nights. The gay procession of fashionable humming-birds 
 ***d commenced their migrations, steamboats and excursion- 
 vruft multiplied at the wharves, and the iron steed put forth 
 all his tremendous might to bear onward the long train of 
 *elf-exiled travellers. 
 
 The Hunts, too, must leave town ; Lucy must, at all 
 **ents, have a full season, and a brilliant one, if possible, 
 itfr it was her second summer, and much might depend 
 upon it. Her mother would accompany her, of course ; and 
 equally of course her father could not ; that is, he must re- 
 turn after escorting them to Saratoga, and spend the re- 
 mainder of the warm months at home. His business would 
 not allow him to take an extended vacation. The boys were 
 easily disposed of, being boarded every summer at the farm- 
 house of an early friend of Mr. Hunt's, where they were 
 acceptable inrnatus, their clothes as well cared for as they
 
 HUSKS. 37 
 
 were at home, and their morals more diligently culwated. 
 The younger girls caused that excellent manager, their 
 mother, more perplexity. This was not the first time she 
 had repented her indiscretion in allowing Sarah to " come 
 out" before her elder sister had " gone off." But " Sarah 
 was so tall and so womanly in her appearance that it looked 
 queer, and would set people to talking if I kept her back," 
 she was accustomed to excuse her impolitic move to her 
 friends. This summer she realized, as she had not done be- 
 fore, the inconvenience of having two full-fledged young 
 ladies upon the carpet at once. Lucy's elegant and varied 
 wardrobe, and the certain expenses in prospect for her and 
 her chaperon at Spa, seaside, and en roiite, left a balance in 
 hand of the sum allotted for the season's expenditure that 
 was startling in its meagreness. Mrs. Hunt was a capital 
 financier, a peerless economist, but the exigency taxed her 
 resources to the utmost. 
 
 One morning she arose with a lightened heart and a 
 smoother brow. " I 've settled it !" she exclaimed to her 
 husband, shaking him from his matutinal doze. 
 
 The "Eureka!" of the Syracusan mathematician was not 
 more lofty in its exultation. Forthwith she unfolded to 
 him her scheme. She was a native of New Jersey, "the 
 Jarseys" she had heard it called in her father's house had 
 probably thus denominated the gallant little State herself in 
 her girlhood. In and around the pretty, quiet village- of 
 Shrewsbury there were still resident scores of her relatives 
 whose very names she had sedulously forgotten. One alone 
 she could not, in conscience or in nature, dismiss to such 
 oblivion. This was her elder and only sister, long married 
 to a respectable and worthy farmer, and living within a 
 mile of ' ; the old place," where both sisters had drawn the 
 first breath of life. Twice since Mrs. Hunt had lived in the 
 city had this kind friend been summoned on account of the
 
 33 THE EMPTY HE AIIT; OB, 
 
 dangerous illness of the former, and her presence and nurs- 
 ing had restored peace, order, and health to the household. 
 The earlier of these occasions was that of the second child's 
 birth, and in the softened mood of her convalescence Mrs. 
 Hunt had bestowed upon the babe her sister's name Sarah 
 Benson a homely appellative she had ofttimes regretted 
 since. At distant and irregular intervals, one, two, three 
 years, Mr. or Mrs. Benson visited their connections in 
 " York ;" but the intercourse grew more difficult and broken 
 as time rolled on and the distance widened between the plain 
 country folk and their rising relations. Then, again, death 
 had been busy in the farmhouse ; coffin after coffin, of vary- 
 ing lengths, but all short, was lifted over the threshold and 
 laid away in the village graveyard, until but one was left to 
 the parents of the seven little ones that had been given to 
 them, and to that one nature had denied the gifts of speech 
 and hearing. Grief and the infirmities of approaching old 
 age disinclined the worthy pair to stir from home, and their 
 ambitious sister was too busy in building up a " set" of her 
 own, and paving the way for her daughters' distinction, to 
 hide her light for ever so short a period in so obscure a cor- 
 ner as her former home. 
 
 Aunt Sarah, however, could not forget her nurseling. 
 Every few months there arrived some simple token of affec- 
 tionate remembrance to "the child" she had not seen since 
 she. wore short frocks and pinafores. The reception of a 
 basket of fruit, thus despatched, was the suggestive power 
 to Mrs. Hunt's present plan. She had made up her mind, 
 BO she informed her husband straightway, to write that very 
 day yes ! that very forenoon, to " Sister Benson," and in- 
 quire whether she would board Sarah and Jeannie for a cou- 
 ple of months. 
 
 " I don't s'pose she will let me pay board for them, but 
 she will be pleased to have 'em as long as they like to stay.
 
 HUSKS. 39 
 
 It's never been exactly convenient for me to let any of the 
 children go there for so many years, and it's so fur oft* But 
 dear me ! sometimes I feel real bad about seeing so little ol 
 my only sister!" a heavy sigh. "And there'll be the ex- 
 penses of two saved, out and out, for they won't need a great 
 variety of clothes in that out-of-the-way place." 
 
 u But how will the girls, Sarah and Jeannie, fancy being 
 Bent off so ?" inquired Mr. Hunt. 
 
 " Oh, as to that, it is late in the day for my children 
 to dispute what I say shall be done ; and Sarah's jest that 
 odd that she'll like this notion twenty times better than go- 
 ing to Newport or Saratoga. I know her ! As to Jeannie, 
 she is satisfied to be with her sister anywhere. She is get- 
 ting thin, too ; she looks real peaked, and there's nothing in 
 creation so good for ailing children as the salt-water bath. 
 They have first-rate still-water bathing not a quarter of a 
 mile -from sister's. It's jest the thing, I tell you! The 
 wonder is it never came into my head before." 
 
 Mr. Hunt had his sigh now. " Somehow or other he was 
 always down in the mouth when the family broke up for the 
 summer," his wife frequently complained, and his lack of 
 sympathy now excited her just ire. 
 
 " Upon my word, Mr. II. ! anybody would think that I 
 was the poorest wife in the world to you to see and hear 
 you whenever I talk to you of my plans and household af- 
 fairs. You look as if you was about to be hanged, instead 
 of feeling obliged to me for turning, and twisting, and con- 
 triving, and studying, day and night, how to save your 
 money, and spend what we must lay out to the best advan- 
 tage. I can tell you what there's few women would make 
 your income go as far as I do." 
 
 " I know that, my dear. The question is" . Mr. Hunt 
 paused, cleared his throat, and strained his nerves for a 
 mighty effort, an unprecedented exercise of moral courage
 
 40 THE EMPTY HEABT; OK, 
 
 " the question is, Betsy, whether our income is stretched 
 in the right direction !" Mistaking the stare of petrified 
 incredulity he received for fixed attention, the infatuated 
 man went on ; " This doubt is always forced upon rne when 
 we separate in July, some to go to one place, some to 
 another, a broken, wandering family for months together 
 I am growing old, and Hove to have my children about me; 
 I begin to feel the want of a home. There is Johnson, in 
 
 the Bank, gets five hundred less per annum than I do ; 
 
 yet, after living quietly here a few years, he bought himself 
 a snug cottage up the river, and has his family there in their 
 own house, every thing handsome and comfortable about 
 them. I have been in the harness for a long while ; I expect 
 to die in it. I don't mind work hard work ! but it seems 
 to me sometimes that we would all be better satisfied if we 
 had more to show, or rather to hold, for our money ; if there 
 were less of this straining after appearances, this constant 
 study to make both ends meet." 
 
 " And it has come to this !" Mrs. Hunt sank into a chair 
 and began to cry. " This is my thanks for slaving and toil- 
 ing for better than twenty years to get you and your children 
 a stand in the world ! It isn't for myself that I care. I can 
 work my fingers to the bone, and live upon a crust ! I can 
 scrape and save five dollars or so a month! I can bury my- 
 self in the country ! But your children ! those dear, sweet 
 girls, that have had the best education money can buy, and 
 that to-day visit such people as the Murrays, and Sander- 
 sons, and Hoopers, and Baylors, and meet the Castors and 
 Crinnalls at parties rrillionaires, all of 'em, the cream of 
 the upper crust ! I don't deny that I have been ambitious for 
 them, and I did hope that you had something of the same 
 spirit ; and now to think of your complaining, and moping, 
 and groaning over the money you say I've been and wasted ; 
 Oh! oh! oh!"
 
 HIT 8 KB. 41 
 
 "You misunderstood me, my dear; I merely questioned 
 
 whetfc-sr we were acting wisely in making so much display 
 
 upon so little substance. We are not millionaires, whatever 
 
 may be said of the girls' visiting acquaintances, and I trem- 
 
 _ble sometimes to think how all this false show may end." 
 
 .Mr. Hunt's borrowed courage had not evaporated en- 
 tirely. 
 
 " That's distrusting Providence, Mr. H. ! It's downright 
 sinful, and what I shouldn't have looked for from you. I 
 can tell you how it will end. If both of us live ten years 
 longer, you will see your daughters riding in their own -car- 
 riages, and leaders of the tong, and your sons among the 
 first gentlemen of the city. If this does not turn out true, 
 you needn't ever trust my word again. I've set my head 
 upon getting Lucy off my hands this summer, and well off; 
 and mark my words, Mr. H., it shall be done." 
 
 One part of her mother's prophecy was fulfilled in Sarah's 
 manner of receiving the proposition so nearly aftecting her 
 comfort during the summer. Lucy wondered at the cheer- 
 ful alacrity with which she consented to be " hidden away 
 in that horrid bore of a farmhouse," and Jeannie cried as her 
 elder sister <l supposed that they would eat in Aunt Sarah's 
 kitchen, along with the servant-men." 
 
 " Lucy, be quiet !" \\> oerposed her mother. " Your aunt 
 is not a common poor person. Mr. Benson is a man of in- 
 dependent means, quittv rich for the country. They live 
 very nicely, and I have no doubt but that your sisters T vill 
 be happy there." 
 
 Sarah had drawn Jeannie to her, and was telling her of the 
 rides and walks they would take together, the ducks and 
 chickens they would feed, and the merry plunges in the salt 
 water that were to be daily luxuries. Ere the recital was 
 concluded, the child was impatient for the hour of departure, 
 and indignant when she heard that Aunt Sarah must be
 
 42 THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 heard from before they could venture to present themsel *, 
 bag and baggage, at her door. There was nothing feij .ed 
 in Sarah's satisfaction; her preparations were made wit'.j fnr 
 more pleasure than if she were to accompany Lucy. Tim 
 seclusion that would have been slow death to the latUr was 
 full of charms for the book-loving sister. Aunt Sarab would 
 be kind ; the novel phases of human nature she would meet 
 would amuse and interest her ; and, besides these, there was 
 Jeannie to love and pet, and river, field, and grove for stud- 
 ies and society. She panted for the country and liberty 
 from the tyrannous shackles of city customs. 
 
 Aunt Sarah wrote promptly and cordially, rejecting the 
 offered compensation, and begging for her nieces' company 
 as long as they could content themselves in so retired a place. 
 Simple-minded as she was, she knew enough to be sure that 
 the belles and beaux of the neighborhood would be very un- 
 suitable mates for her expected visitors. If her own girls 
 had lived, she would have asked nothing higher for them in 
 this Avorld than toliave them grow up respected, beloved, 
 and happy, among the acquaintances and friends of their 
 parents ; but " Sister Betsy's children had been raised so dif- 
 ferently !" she said to her husband. " I don't know what we 
 will do to amuse them." 
 
 " They will find amusement never fear," was the farmer's 
 response. " Let city folks alone for seeing wonclevs where 
 those that have lived among them all their lives never found 
 any thing uncommon. They are welcome to the pony when- 
 ever they've a mind to ride, and Jim or I will find time to 
 drive them around a'most everyday; and what with riding, 
 and boating, and bathing, I guess they can get rid of the 
 time." 
 
 Before the day set for the coming of the guests there ap 
 peared upon the stage an unexpected and welcome ally to 
 Aunt Sarah's benevolent design of making her nieces' sojourn
 
 HUSKS. 43 
 
 agreeable. This personage we will let the good woman her 
 sell' describe. 
 
 " You needn't trouble yourself to Sx up for tea, dear," 
 Blie said to Sarah, the afternoon of her arrival, as she pre- 
 pared to remove her travelling-dress. " There's nobody 
 here besides husband, and me, and Charley, except hus- 
 band's nephew, Philip Benson, from the South, lie comes 
 North 'most every summer, and never goes back without 
 paying us a visit. He's been here three days now. But he 
 is just as easy as an old shoe, and sociable as can be, so you 
 won't mind him." 
 
 " Uncle Benson has relatives at the South, then ?" said 
 Sarah, seeing herself called upon to say something. 
 
 "One brother James. He went to Georgy when he 
 wasn't more than sixteen years old, and has lived there ever 
 since. He married a rich wife, I believe," sinking her voice 
 " and has made money fast, I've heard. Philip never says 
 a word about their wealth, but his father owns a great plan- 
 tation, for husband asked him how many acres they worked. 
 Then the children there are four of them have had fine 
 educations, and always spend money freely. Philip is not 
 the sort to boast of any thing that belongs to him or his. 
 He is a good-hearted boy. He was here the August my 
 last daughter my Betsy : died, and I shall never forget 
 how kind and tender he was then. I can't look at him with- 
 out thinking how my Alick would have been just his age if 
 he had lived. One was born on the fourth and the othei 
 the fifth of the same April.'' 
 
 Keeping up a decent show of interest in these family de 
 tails, Sarah divested Jeannie of her sacque and dress, and 
 substituted a cool blue gingham and a muslin apron. Then, 
 as the child was wild to run out of doors, she suffered hei 
 to go, charging her 'not to pass the boundary of the yard 
 fence. Aunt Sarah was dressed in a second mourning de
 
 44 THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 laine ; with a very plain cap, and while the heat obliged 
 Sarah to lay aside the thick and dusty garment she had 
 worn all day, she had too much tact to offer a strong con- 
 trast in her own attire to her unpretending surroundings. 
 A neat sprigged lawn, modest and inexpensive, was not out 
 of place among the old-fashioned furniture of her chamber 
 nor in the " best room," to which they presently descended. 
 
 Aunt Sarah ushered her into the apartment with some 
 stiffness of ceremony. In truth, she was not herself there 
 often, or long enough to feel quite at ease, her property 
 though it was. Alleging the necessity of " seeing to the 
 tea," she bade her niece "make herself at home," threw 
 open a blind that she " might see the river," and left her. 
 
 First, Sarah looked around the room. It was large and 
 square, and had four windows, two in front and two in the 
 rear. The floor was covered by a well-saved carpet, of a 
 pattern so antique that it was in itself a curiosity; heavy 
 tables of a mahogany dark with age ; upright chairs, with 
 slippery leathern seats ; a ponderous sofa, covered with hair- 
 cloth ; small mirrors, with twisted frames, between the win- 
 dows ; two black profiles, of life-size, over the mantel, and 
 in the fire place a jar of asparagus boughs, were appoint- 
 ments that might have repelled the looker-on, but for the 
 scrupulous, shining cleanliness of every article. It was a 
 scene so strange to Sarah that she could not but smile as 
 she withdrew her eyes and turned to the landscape com- 
 manded by her window. 
 
 The sight changed the gleam of good-humored amuse- 
 ment to one of more heartfelt pleasure. Beyond the grassy 
 walks and flower-borders of the garden behind the house lay 
 green meadows, sloping down to the river, broad and smooth 
 at this point, so placid now that it mirrored every rope and 
 Beam of the sails resting quietly upon' its surface, and the 
 White cottages along the banks, while the banks themselves,
 
 HUSKS. 45 
 
 with their tufts and crowns of foliage, drooping willows and 
 lofty elms, found a faithful yet a beautified counterpart in 
 the stream. The reflected blush of the crimson west upon 
 its bosom was shot with flickers of golden light, and faded 
 in the distance into the blue-gray twilight. The air seemed 
 to grow more deliciously cool as the gazer thought of the 
 hot, pent-up city, and the beds of thyme and lavender added 
 their evening incense. 
 
 The hum of cheerful voices joined pleasantly with the 
 soothing influences of the hour, and, changing her position 
 slightly, Sarah beheld the speakers. Upon a turfy mound, 
 at the foot of an apple-tree, sat Jeannie beside a gentleman, 
 whose hands she watched with pleased interest, as did also 
 a boy of fifteen or thereabouts, who knelt on the grass 
 before them. Sarah divined at once that this was her aunt's 
 deaf and dumb son. The gentleman was apparently inter 
 preting to Jeannie all that passed between himself and the 
 lad, and her gleeful laugh showed it to be a lively dia- 
 logue. Could this be Mr. Benson's nephew, the beardless 
 youth Sarah had pictured him to herself from Aunt Sarah's 
 description? He could not have been less than six-and- 
 twenty, had dark hair and a close, curling beard, an intelli- 
 gent, handsome face, and notwithstanding his loose summer 
 sack and lounging attitude, one discerned plainly traces of 
 uncommon grace and strength in his form. 
 
 " What is he, I wonder ? A gallant professional beau, 
 who will entangle me in my speech, and be an inevitable 
 appendage in the excursions ? I flattered myself I would 
 be safe from all such drawbacks," thought Sarah, in genuine v 
 vexation, as she obeyed her aunt's summons to tea. 
 
 Perhaps Mr. Benson read as much in her countenance, for, 
 beyond a few polite, very unremarkable observations, ad- 
 dressed to her when his hosts made it necessary for him to 
 do so, he paid her no visible attention during the whole
 
 46 THE EMPTY HE'ARTJ OR, 
 
 evening. The next day he set off, the minute breakfast was 
 over, with his gun and game-bag, and was gone until sunset. 
 
 Sarah sat at her chamber window as he came up to tho 
 back door ; and, screened by the vine trained over the sash, 
 he watched him as he tossed his game-bag to Charley and 
 shook hands with Jeannie, who ran up to him with the fa- 
 miliarity of an old acquaintance. 
 
 " What luck ?" questioned his uncle. 
 
 "Nothing to boast of, sir; yet enough to repay me for my 
 tramp. I have been down to the shore." 
 
 " Philip Benson ! Well, you beat every thing ! I suppose 
 you have walked as much as ten miles in all !" exclaimed 
 Aunt Sarah, with a sort of reproachful admiration. 
 
 " I dare say, madam, and am none the worse for it to- 
 night. I am getting used to your sand, uncle ; it used to 
 tire me, I confess." 
 
 He disappeared, into the kitchen, probably to perform the 
 ablutions needful after his day's walk and work, for it was 
 several minutes before he returned. Charley had carried 
 the game-bag to the mound under the tree, and was exhibit- 
 ing its contents mostly snipe and red-winged black birds 
 to his little cousin. 
 
 " It is refreshing to see something in the shape of man 
 that is neither an effeminate dandy nor a business machine," 
 soliloquized Sarah. " Ten miles on foot ! How I would like 
 to set that task for certain of our Broadway exquisites !" 
 
 " She isn't a bit like a city girl !" Aunt Sarah was saying, 
 as she followed Philip into the outer air. 
 
 "I am glad to hear that she is likely to be a nice compan- 
 ion for you, madam. I thought, from her appearance, that 
 you would suit each other," was the reply, certainly respect- 
 ful enough, but whose lurking accent of dry indifference sent 
 the blood to Sarah's face. 
 Hastily withdrawing from the open window, and beyond
 
 HUSKS. 4:7 
 
 the reach of the voices that discussed her merits, she waited 
 to recover equanimity before going down-stairs. In vain 
 she chided herself for her sudden heat. Mortified she was, 
 and even more ashamed of herself than angry with the cool 
 young man who had pronounced her to be a fitting associate 
 fjr her excellent but unpolished aunt. While his every look 
 and intonation bespoke the educated gentleman, a being as 
 different in mental as in physical muscle from the fops who 
 formed her sister's train, had he weighed her against the re- 
 fined woman of his own class and clime, and adjudged her 
 this place ? At heart she felt the injustice, and, stimulated 
 by the sting, arose the resolve that he should learn and con- 
 fess his error. Not tamely or willingly would she accept an 
 ignoble station at the hands of one whom she inwardly rec- 
 ognized as capable of a true valuation of what she esteemed 
 worthy. 
 
 She looked haughty, not humbled, when she took her seat 
 opposite her critic at the "tea-table. "A nice companion," 
 she was saying over to herself. The very phrase, borrowed, 
 as it was, from Aunt Sarah's vocabulary, seemed to her 
 seasoned with contempt. She kept down fire and scorn, 
 however, when Mr. Benson accosted her with the tritest of 
 remarks upon the probable heat of the day in town as con- 
 trasted with the invigorating breeze, with its faint, delicious 
 sea flavor, that rustled the grapevines and fluttered the 
 white curtains at the dining-room door and windows. Her 
 answer was not exactly gracious, but it advanced the one 
 tempting step beyond a mere reply. 
 
 Thus was the .ce broken, and for the rest of the meal, 
 Aunt Sarah and "Uncle Nathan" as he requested his 
 nieces to style him had respite from the duty of active en- 
 tertainment, so far as conversation went. To Sarah's sur- 
 prise, Mr. Benson talked to her almost as he would have 
 done to another man. lie spoke of notable persons, places,
 
 48 THE EMPTY HEART; on > 
 
 and books things of which she had heard and tead 
 out affectation of reserve or a shade of pretension ; and to 
 her rejoinders brief and constrained for awhile then, as 
 she forgot herself in her subject, pertinent, earnest, salient 
 he gave more than courteous heed. It was the unaffected 
 interest of an inquirer ; the entire attention of one who fel 
 that he received more than he gave. 
 
 They parted for the night with a bow and a smile that 
 was with each a mute acknowledgment of pleasure derived 
 from the companionship of the other; and if neither looked 
 forward to the meeting of the morrow as a renewal ef con- 
 genial intercourse, both carried to their rest the effects of 
 an agreeable surprise in tbf ^vents of the evening.
 
 HUSKS. 4-9 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A WEEK had passed since the arrival of the city nieces at 
 the farmhouse. An early tea, one of Aunt Sarah's generous 
 and appetizing repasts was over ; and through the garden, 
 out at the gate that terminated the middle walk, and across 
 the strip of meadow-land, danced Charley and Jeannie, fol- 
 lowed at a more sedate pace by Philip Benson and Sarah. 
 Seven days' rustication had wrought a marked change in 
 the town-bred girl. There was a lighter bound in her step, 
 and in her cheek a clear, pink glow, while her eyes looked 
 softly, yet brightly, from out the shadow of her gypsy hat, 
 a look of half surprise, half confidence in her companion's 
 face. 
 
 " One week ago," he was saying, " how firmly I made up 
 my mind that you and I could never be any thing but 
 strangers to each other ! How I disliked you for coming 
 down here to interfere with my liberty and leisure !'' 
 
 "But even then you thought that I would prove a ' nice 
 companion for Aunt Sarah ' perceived my suitableness to 
 her society," was the demure reply. 
 
 " Who told you that I said so ?" 
 
 "Not Aunt Sarah herself, although she considered it 
 honest praise. I overheard it accidentally from my window, 
 and I can assure you properly appreciated the compliment, 
 which, by the way, was more in the tone than the 
 words." 
 
 * And you were thereby piqued to a different style of 
 8
 
 50 THE EMPTY HEART; OB, 
 
 behavior. Bravo! did ever another seed so worthless 
 bring forth so rich a harvest ? I am glad I said it ! Here 
 is the boat." 
 
 It was a pretty little afiair Charley's property and care, 
 and he was already in his seat at the bow, oar in hand. 
 Philip helped Sarah in, placed Jeannie beside her, and sta- 
 tioning himself upon the middle bench took up a second pair 
 of oars. A noiseless dip of the four, and the craft glided 
 out into the stream, then up against the tide, the water rip- 
 ling into a foamy wake on either side of the sharp bow. A 
 row was now the regular sequel to the day's enjoyments, 
 and to Jeannie, at least, the climax of its pleasures. 
 
 " Pull that way, please, Mr. Benson !" she cried. "There ! 
 right through that beautiful red water !" 
 
 A skilful sweep brought them to the spot designated, but 
 the crimson deserted the wave as they neared it, and left 
 dull gray in its stead. 
 
 " It is too bad !" complained the child, pointing back to 
 the track of their boat, quivering amidst the fickle radiance 
 she had thought to reach by this change of course. " It is 
 behind us and before us everywhere but where we are !" 
 
 " Is there a moral in that ?" questioned Philip, smiling at 
 Sarah. 
 
 " Perhaps so." 
 
 A fortnight before, how assured would have been her 
 reply ! How gloomy her recognition of the analogy ! 
 Changed as was her mood, a shade fell over her counten- 
 ance. Was it of apprehension, and did Philip thus interpret 
 it? 
 
 " I could not love life and this fair world as I do, if I 
 conceded this to be universally true," he said. "That there 
 comes, sometimes, a glory to the present, beside which the 
 hues of past and future fade and are "forgotten, I must and 
 will believe. Such, it seems to me, must be the rapture of
 
 HUSKS. 51 
 
 reciprocal and acknowledged affection ; the joy of reunion 
 after long separation from the beloved one; the bliss of 
 reconciliation after estrangement. Have you ever thought 
 how much happier we would be if we were to live only in 
 the Now we have, and never strain our eyes with search- 
 ings for the lights and shades of what may be before us, or 
 with ' mournful looking' after what is gone ?" 
 
 " Yet is this possible ?" asked Sarah, earnestly. " Does 
 not the very constitution of our natures forbid it ? To me 
 that would be a miserably tame, dead-level existence over 
 which Hope sheds no enchanting illusions ; like this river, 
 as we saw it three days ago, cold and sombre as the rain- 
 clouds that hung above it. Oh, no ! give me any thing but 
 the chill, neutral tint of such a life as thousands are content 
 to lead people who expect nothing, fear nothing I had 
 almost said, feel nothing !" 
 
 " That is because every principle of your being is at war 
 with common-places. Tell me frankly, Miss Sarah, did you 
 ever meet another woman who had as much character as 
 yourself?" 
 
 " I do not know that I understand the full bearing ol 
 your question." She leaned on the side of the boat, her 
 hand playing in the water, her lips working in an irresolute 
 timidity that was oddly at variance with their habitual firm- 
 ness. 
 
 " I am aware," she began, slowly and gravely, " that I 
 express myself too strongly at times ; that I am more ab- 
 rupt in language and action than most other girls. I have 
 always been told so ; but it is natural to me. My charac- 
 ter has many rough and sharp edges that need softening 
 and rounding " 
 
 " In order to render you one of the pretty automatons, 
 the well-draped, thoronghly-oiled pieces of human clock- 
 work that decorates men's homes falsely so called in these
 
 52 THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 days of gloss and humbug !" interrupted Philip with ener- 
 gy. " I am sick to death of the dollish * sweet creatures' 
 every boarding-school turns out by the score. I understand 
 all the wires that work the dear puppets flatter myself that 
 I can put them, through their paces (excuse the slang !) in as 
 short a time as any other man of my age in the country. 
 The delightful divinities ! A little music, and a little less 
 French ; a skimming of the arts and sciences ; and it is a 
 rare thing to meet one who can tell an art from a science 
 ten days after she has graduated a stock of pet phrases 
 all hyperbolical, consequently unmeaning a glib utterance 
 of the same ; a steady devotion to balls, beau-catching, 
 gossip, and fancy-work ; voild the modern fine lady the 
 stuff we are expected to make wives of ! Wives! save the 
 mark ! I never think of the possibility of being thus en- 
 snared without an involuntary repetition of a portion of 
 the Litany ' From all such, etc., etc. !' " 
 
 He plied his oars with renewed activity for a moment, 
 then suspended them to continue, in a softer tone : " And 
 this is the representative woman of your Utopia, Miss 
 Sarah ?" 
 
 " Did I intimate, much less assert, such a heresy ?" re- 
 sponded she, laughing. " But there is a golden mean some- 
 where a union of gentleness and energy ; of domestic and 
 literary taste; of independence and submission. I have 
 seen such in my day dreams. She is my ideal." 
 
 "Which you will one day embody. No reproachful 
 looks ! This is the sincerity of a friend. I have promised 
 never to flatter you again, and do not violate the pledge in 
 speaking thus. From my boyhood, I have made human 
 nature my study, and it would be hard to convince me that 
 I err in this case." 
 
 " You do ! indeed you do !" exclaimed Sarah, with a look 
 of real pain. " I lack the first characteristic of the portrait
 
 H IT 8 K 8 . 53 
 
 I have drawn. I am not gentle ! I ne^#r was. I fear that 
 I never -will be !" 
 
 " Let us hear a competent witness on that head. Jean- 
 nie !" to the child, who was busy spelling on her fingers to 
 Charley ; his nods and smiles to her, from the far end of 
 the boat, being more intelligible to her than were her at- 
 tempts to signal her meaning to him. " Jeannie !" repeated 
 Philip, as he caught her eye. " Come, and whisper in my 
 ear which of your sisters you love the best. Maybe I won't 
 tell tales out of school to the one you care least for." 
 
 " I don't care who knows !" said the saucy, but affection- 
 ate child. " Sis' Lucy is the prettiest, and she never scolds 
 me either; but she doesn't make my clothes, and tell me 
 nice stories, and help me with my lessons, and all that, you 
 know. She isn't my dear, best sister !" And, springing up 
 suddenly, the threw her arms around Sarah's neck, with a 
 kiss that answered the question with emphasis. 
 
 Sarah's lip trembled. The share of affection she had 
 hitherto dared to claim as her own had barely sufficed to 
 keep her heart from starving outright. She had often 
 dreamed of fulness of love as a stay and comfort, as solace 
 and nutriment in a world whose wrong side was ever turned 
 to her. Now there dawned upon her the sweetness and 
 beauty of a new revelation, the bliss of loving and being 
 beloved. Over life floated a warm, purple tinge, like the 
 sunset light upon the river. For the first time within the 
 reach of her memory her heart rested! 
 
 In the smile whose overflowing gave a tender lovelines 
 to her features, Philip saw the effect he had wished and 
 anticipated, and, motioning to Chai-ley to let the boat drift 
 with the current, he picked up the guitar, that by Sarah's 
 request was always taken along in these excursions. 
 
 "The dew is on the blossom, 
 
 And the young moon on the sea ;
 
 54 THE EMPTY HEART; OB, 
 
 Jt is the twilight hour 
 
 The hour for you and me ; 
 The time when memory lingers 
 
 Across life's dreary track, 
 When the past floats up before us, 
 
 And the lost comes stealing back." 
 
 It \vas a love song, inimitable in its purity and tenderness, 
 with just the touch of sadness that insured its passage to 
 the heart. Sarah's smile was softer, but it was a smile still, 
 as the melody arose on the quiet air. When the ballad was 
 concluded, she only said ; " Another, please !" 
 
 Philip sang more than well. Without extraordinary 
 power, his voice had a rich and flexible quality of tone and 
 a delicacy of expression that never failed to fascinate. To 
 the rapt and listening girl it seemed as if time could bi'ing 
 no more delicious fate than thus to glide on ever upon thia 
 empurpled, enchanted stream, the summer heavens above 
 her, and, thrilling ear and soul, the witching lullaby that 
 rocked her spirit to dreams of the youth she had never had, 
 the love for which she had longed Avith all the wild intensi- 
 ty, the fervent yearning, her deep heart could feel. 
 
 Still they floated on with the receding tide, its low wash- 
 ing against the sides of their boat filling up the pauses of the 
 music. The burning red and gold of the sky cooled into 
 the mellower tints of twilight, and the pale curve of the 
 young moon shone with increasing lustre. Jeannie fell 
 asleep, her head upon her sister's lap ; the dumb boy sat 
 motionless as stone, his dark eyes fixed on the moon ; there 
 seemed some spell upon the little party. Boat after boat 
 passed them, almost noiselessly, for far into the clear evening 
 went the tones of the singer's voice, and the dullest hearer 
 could not withhold the tribute of admiring silence until be 
 yond its reach. 
 
 And Sarah, nappy in the strange, restful languor that 
 locked her senses to all except the blessed present, dreamed
 
 55 
 
 on, the music but a part of her ideal world, this new and 
 beautiful life. Into it stole presently a theme of sadness, a 
 strain of grief, a heart-cry, that, ere she was aware, Wrung 
 her own heart-strings with anguish. 
 
 " The long, long, weary day 
 
 Is passed in tears away, 
 And still at evening I am weeping. 
 When from my window's height 
 1 look out on the night, 
 I am still weeping, 
 My lone watch keeping. 
 
 " When I, his truth to prove, 
 Would trifle with my love, 
 He'd say, Tor me thou wilt be weeping, 
 When, at some future day, 
 I shall be far away ; 
 Thou wilt be weeping, 
 Thy lone watch keeping.' 
 
 " Alas ! if land or sea 
 
 Had parted him from me, 
 I would not these sad tears be weeping; 
 But hope he'd come once more, 
 And love me as before ; 
 And say, ' Cease weeping, 
 Thy lone watch keeping.' 
 
 " But he is dead and gone, 
 
 Whose heart was mine alone, 
 And now for him I'm sadly weeping. 
 His face I ne'er shall see, 
 And naught is left to me 
 But bitter weeping, 
 My lone watch keeping." 
 
 If ever a pierced and utterly hopeless soul poured forth 
 its plaint in musical measure, it was in the wondrously sim- 
 ple and unspeakably plaintive air to which these words are
 
 56 THE EMPTY HEART; on, 
 
 set. There breathes in it a spirit wail so mournfully sincere 
 that one recognizes its sob in the very chords of the accom- 
 paniment. The mere murmur of the melody, were no words 
 ttered, tells the story of grieving desolation. 
 
 Sarah did not move or speak, yet upon her enchanted 
 ground a cloud had fallen. She saw the high casement and 
 its tearful gazer into the night, a night not of music, and 
 moonlight, and love, but chill, and wet, and dreary. Rain 
 dripped from eaves and trees ; stone steps and pavements 
 caught a ghastly gleam from street lamps ; save that sorrow- 
 ful watcher, there was no living creature abroad or awake. 
 She grew cold and sick with looking into those despairing 
 eyes ; the gloom, the loneliness, the AVOC of that vigil became 
 her own, and her heart sank swooning beneath the burden. 
 
 As she ceased the song, Philip looked up for some com- 
 ment or request. To his surprise, she only clasped her 
 hands in a gesture that might have been either relief from 
 or abandonment to woe, and bowed her head upon them. 
 Puzzled, yet flattered by her emotion, he refrained from in- 
 terrupting her ; and, resuming his oars, lent the impetus of 
 their stroke to that of the tide. Nothing was said until the 
 keel grated upon the shelly beach opposite the farmhouse. 
 Then, as Philip stooped to lift the unconscious Jeannie, he 
 imagined that he discerned the gleam of the sinking moon 
 upon Sarah's dripping eyelashes. 
 
 The fancy pursued him after he had gone up to his room. 
 Seated at his window, looking out upon the now starlit sky, 
 he smoked more than one cigar before his musing fit was 
 ended. It was not the love-reverie of a smitten boy. IIo 
 believed that he had passed that stage of sentimentalism ten 
 years before. That Southerner of the male gender who has 
 not been consumed by the fires and arisen as good as new 
 from the ashes of half a dozen never-dying passions before 
 he is eighteen, who has not offered the heart and baud,
 
 HUSKS. 57 
 
 which as often as otherwise constitute his chiefest earthly 
 possessions, to some elect fair one by the time he is one-and- 
 twenty, is voted " slow" or invulnerable. If these suscepti- 
 ble sons of a fervid clime did not take to love-making aa 
 naturally as does a duckling to the pond by the time the 
 eggshell is fairly off of its head, they would certainly be ini- 
 tiated while in the callow state by the rules and customs of 
 society. Courtship is at first a pastime, then an art, then 
 when the earnestness of a real attachment takes hold of their 
 impassioned natures, it is the one all-absorbing, eager pur- 
 suit of existence, until rewarded by the acquisition of its ob- 
 ject or thwarted by the decided refusal of the hard-hearted 
 Dulcinea. 
 
 This state of things, this code of Cupid, every Southern 
 girl understands, and shapes her conduct accordingly. 
 Sportively, yet warily, she plays around the hook, and he is 
 a very fortunate angler who does not in the moment of fan- 
 cied success discover that she has carried off* the bait as a 
 trophy upon which to feed her vanity, and left him to be 
 the laughing-stock of the curious spectators of this double 
 game. She is imperturbable to meaning equivoques, receives 
 pretty speeches and tender glances at their current value, 
 and not until the suit becomes close and ardent, the attach- 
 ment palpable to every one else, and is confessed in so many 
 words, does she allow herself to be persuaded that her 
 adorer is " in earnest," and really desires to awaken a sym- 
 pathetic emotion in her bosom. 
 
 Philip Benson was no wanton trifler with woman's feel- 
 ings. On the contrary, he had gained the reputation in his 
 circle of an invincible, indifferent looker-on of the pseudo 
 and real combats, in Love's name, that were continually 
 transpiring around him. Chivalrous in tone, gallant in ac- 
 tion, as he was, the girls feared while they liked and admired 
 him. They called him critical, fastidious, cold ; and mock- 
 3*
 
 58 THE EMPTY IIEART; OR, 
 
 ingly wondered why he persisted in going into company, 
 that, judging the future by the past, was so unlikely to fur- 
 nish him with the consort he must be seeking. In reality, 
 he was what he had avowed himself to Sarah a student of 
 human nature ; an amateur in this species of social research 
 than which no other so frequently results in the complete 
 deception of the inquirer. Certainly no other is so apt to 
 find its culmination of devotion in a cold-blooded dissection 
 of motive, morals, and sentiment ; an unprincipled, reckless 
 application of trial and test to the hearts and lives of its vic- 
 tims and final infidelity in all human good, except Avhat is 
 concentrated in the inspector's individual, personal self. 
 Grown dainty amid the abundant supply of ordinary mate- 
 rial, he comes at length to disdain common " subjects." 
 Still less would he touch one already loathsome in the popu 
 lar estimation, through excess of known and actual crime. 
 But a character fresh and noble from the Creator's hand ; a 
 soul that dares to think and feel according to its innate sense 
 of right ; an intellect unhackneyed, not vitiated by worldly 
 policy or the dogmas of the schools ; a heart, tender and 
 delicate yet passionate in love or abhorrence ; what an op- 
 portunity is here presented for the scalpel, the detective acid, 
 the crucible, the microscope ! It is not in fallible mortality 
 to resist the temptation, and even professors of this en- 
 nobling pursuit, whose motto is, " The proper study of man- 
 kind is Man," are, as they allow with shame and confusion 
 of face, themselves mortal. Of all the dignified humbugs of 
 the solemn farce of life, deliver me from that creature self- 
 styled " a student and judge of character!" 
 
 In Sarah Hunt, Philip discovered, to his surpi'ise, a rare 
 " specimen ;" a volume, each leaf of which revealed new 
 matter of interest. The attentions he had considered him- 
 self bound to pay her, in order to avoid wounding their kind 
 hosts, were soon rendered from a widely different motive.
 
 HUSKS. 59 
 
 It did not occur to him that he was transcending the limits 
 of merely friendly courtesy, as prescribed by the etiquette 
 of the region in which he was now a sojourner. He was by 
 no means deficient in appreciation of his personal gifts ; rated 
 his powers of pleasing quite as highly as did his warmest 
 admirers, although he had the common sense and tact to 
 conceal this ; but he would have repelled, as an aspersion 
 upon his honor, the charge that he was endeavoring to win 
 this young girl's affections, his heart being as yet un- 
 touched. 
 
 " Was it then altogether whole ?" he asked himself to-night, 
 with a coolness that should have been an immediate reply to 
 the suggestion. 
 
 Side by side, he set two mental portraits, and strove de- 
 liberately, impartially, to discern any traces of resemblance 
 between the two. The future Mrs. Benson was a personage 
 that engrossed much of his thoughts, and by long practice 
 in the portrayal of her lineaments, he had brought his fancy 
 sketch very nearly to perfection. A tall, Juno-like figure, 
 with raven locks, and large, melting eyes, unfathomable as 
 clear ; features of classic mould ; an elastic, yet stately form ; 
 a disposition in which amiability tempered natural impetu- 
 osity, and generous impulse gave direction to gentle word 
 and deed ; a mind profoundly imbued with the love of learn- 
 ing, and in cultivation, if not strength, equal to his own ; 
 discretion, penetration, and docility combined in such pro- 
 portions as should render her her husband's safest counsellor, 
 yet willing follower ; and controlling and toning the har- 
 monious whole, a devotion to himself only second in degree, 
 not inferior in quality, to worship of her Creator. This was 
 the ideal for whose embodiment our reasonable, modest 
 Coelebs was patiently waiting. Answer, oh ye expectant, in- 
 cipient Griseldas ! who, from your beauteous ranks, will step 
 into the prepared niche, and make the goddess a reality ?
 
 60 THE EMPTY HEART; OK, 
 
 And how appeared the rival picture in comparison ? 
 
 " No, no !" he ejaculated, tossing the remnant of his thin! 
 cigar into the garden. " I must seek further for the ' golden 
 mean.' Intellect and heart are here, undoubtedly. I must 
 have beauty and grace as well. Yet," he continued, releut- 
 ingly, " there are times when she would be quite handsome 
 if she dressed better. It is a pity her love for the beautiful 
 does not enter into her choice of wearing apparel !" 
 
 In ten minutes more he was asleep, and dreamed that he 
 stood at the altar with his long sought ideal, when, as the 
 last binding words were spoken, she changed to Sarah Hunt, 
 arrayed in a light blue lawn of last year's fashion, that made 
 her look as sallow as a lemon, and, to his taste, as little to 
 be desired for " human nature's daily food." 
 
 Poor Sarah ! The visionary robe was a faithful reflection 
 upon the dreamer's mental retina of a certain organdie 
 which had formed a part of Lucy's wardrobe the previous 
 summer, and having become antiquated in six months' time, 
 was altogether inadmissible in the belle's outfit of this sea- 
 son. 
 
 " Yet it cost an awful sum when it was new !" reasoned 
 Mrs. Hunt, " and will make you a very useful dress while 
 you are with your Aunt Sarah. It's too good to cut up for 
 Jeannie !" 
 
 " But the color, mother ?" objected the unwilling re 
 cipient. 
 
 " Pooh ! who wilt notice that ? Besides, if you had a 
 good complexion, you could wear blue as well as anybody." 
 
 Sarah's stock of thin dresses was not plentiful, and, re- 
 siling this observation, she coupled it with the fact that she 
 was growing rosy, and dared to equip herself in the azure 
 garment, with what effect she did not dream and Mr. Philip 
 Benson did!
 
 HUSKS. 61 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 ON a pleasant, although rather cloudy forenoon in July, 
 our young pleasure-seekers carried into execution a long- 
 talked-of expedition to the Deal Beach, distant about ten 
 miles from Shrewsbury. 
 
 By Aunt Sarah's arrangement, Charley and Jeannie oc- 
 cupied the back seat of the light wagon, and Sarah was to 
 sit by Philip in front, that she " might see the country." 
 Having accomplished this apparently artless manoeuvre, the 
 good woman handed up to them a portly basket of luncheon, 
 and two or three additional shawls, in case of ram or change 
 of weather, and bade the gay party " Good-by" with a 
 satisfied glow in heart and face. To her guileless apprehen- 
 sion there was no question how affairs were progressing 
 between her niece and her nephew-in-law ; and in sundry 
 conferences on the subject between " husband" and herself, 
 it had been agreed that a matrimonial aUiance would be the 
 best thing that could happen to either of the supposed 
 lovers. In her simple, pious soul, the dear old lady already 
 blessed the Providence that had accomplished the meeting 
 and intercourse under her roof, while she wondered at "the 
 strange things that come about in this world." 
 
 Philip had been aware of her innocent attempts to facili- 
 tate his suit for several days past, and Sarah's blush, as she 
 hesitated, before accepting the proffered seat by the driver, 
 showed that this move was so transparent as to convey the 
 alarm to her also. For a full half mile Philip did not speak,
 
 62 THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 except a word now and then to the pair of stout grays, 
 who were Uncle Nathan's greatest earthly boast. He ap- 
 peared thoughtful, perhaps perturbed so Sarah's single 
 stolen glance at him showed and in the eyes that looked 
 straight onward to the horizon, there was a hardness she 
 had never seen there before. She was surprised, therefore, 
 when he broke the silence by an unimportant observation, 
 uttered in his usual friendly tone, and for the remainder of 
 the ride was gay and kind, with a shoAV of light-heartedness 
 that was not surpassed by the merry children beliind them. 
 
 There was hardly enough variety in the unpicturesque 
 country bordering their route to give the shadow of reason- 
 ableness to Aunt Sarah's pretext in selecting her namesake's 
 seat, and, despite her escort's considerate attentions, Sarah 
 had an uncomfortable ride ; while her manner evinced more 
 of the haughty reserve of their introduction than she had 
 shown at any subsequent stage of their acquaintance. The 
 grays travelled well, and a little after noon they were de- 
 tached from the carriage, and tied in the grove of scrub-oaks 
 skirting the beach. 
 
 While Philip was busied with them, the others continued 
 their course down to the shore ; the children, hand-in-hand, 
 skipping over sand-hills, and stopping to pick up stones ; 
 Sarah strolling slowly after them. She had seen the ocean- 
 surf before, but never aught like this, with its huge swells 
 of water, a mile in length, gathering blackness and height 
 on their landward career ; as they struck the invisible 
 barrier that commanded, " Thus far and no farther !" break- 
 ing in white fury, with the leap of a baffled fiend, and a 
 roar like thunder, against their resistless opponent, then 
 recoiling, sullenly, to gather new force for another, and as 
 useless an attack. The beach was wide and uneven, of 
 sand, whose whiteness would have glared intolerably had 
 the day been sunny, drifted into hillocks and undulating
 
 HUSKS. 63 
 
 ridges, like the waves of the sea. Here and there the hardy 
 heath;r found a foothold amid the otherwise blank sterility, 
 the green patches adding to, rather than lessening the wild, 
 desolate aspect of the tract. Fragments of timber were 
 strewn in all directions, and Sarah's quick eye perceived 
 that it was not formless, chance driftwood. There were 
 hewn beams and shapely spars, and planks in which great 
 iron bolts were still fast. When Philip overtook her, she 
 was standing by an immense piece of solid wood, lying far 
 beyond the reach of the highest summer tides. One end was 
 buried in the sand ; the other, bleached by sun and wind, 
 and seamed with cracks, was curved like the extremity of a 
 bow. Her late embarrassment or hauteur was forgotten in 
 the direct earnestness of her appealing look. 
 
 " Am I mistaken ?" she said, in a low, awed lone. " Is 
 not this the keel of a ship ?" 
 
 " It is. There have been many wrecked on this coast." 
 
 " Here !" She glanced from the fierce, bellowing break- 
 ers to the melancholy testimonial of their destructive might. 
 " I have never heard that this was esteemed a dangerous 
 point." 
 
 " You can form but an imperfect idea of what this beach 
 is in winter," remarked Philip, signing to her to seat herself 
 upon the sand, and thro whig himself down beside her. " I 
 was here once, late in the autumn, and saw a vessel go to 
 pieces, scarcely a stone's throw from where we are now sit- 
 ting. The sea was high, the wind blowing a perfect gale, 
 and this schooner, having lost one of her most important 
 sails, was at the mercy of the elements. She was cast upon 
 the shore, and her crew, watching their opportunity, sprang 
 overboard as the waves receded, and reached firm ground 
 hi safety. Then came a monster billow, and lifting the ves- 
 sel farther upon the sand, left her careened towards the land. 
 It was pitiful to see the poor thing ! so like life were hei
 
 64 THE EMPTY HEAKTJ OB, 
 
 shudders and groans, as the cruel surf beat against her, that 
 my heart fairly ached. The spray, at every dash, arose 
 nearly as high as her mast-head, and a cataract of water 
 swept over her deck. Piece by piece she broke up, 
 and we could only stand and look on, while the scattered 
 portions were thrown to our very feet. I shall never forget 
 the sight. It taught me the truth of man's impotence and 
 nature's strength as I had never read it before." 
 
 " But there were no lives lost ! You were spared the 
 spectacle of that most terrible scene in the tragedy of ship- 
 wreck." 
 
 " Yes. But the light of many a life has been quenched 
 in that raging caldron. A young man, a resident of 
 Shrewsbury, with whom I hunted last year, described to me 
 a catalogue of horrors which he had beheld here, that has 
 visited me in dreams often since. An emigrant ship was 
 cast away on this coast, in midwinter. High above the roar 
 of the wind and the booming surf, was heard the cry of the 
 doomed wretches, perishing within hail of the crowd of 
 fellow-beings who had collected at news of the catastrophe. 
 The cold was intense ; mast, and sail, and rope were coated 
 with ice, and the benumbed, freezing wretches were exposed 
 every instant to the torrents of brine that swept over them 
 like sleet. The agony was horrible beyond description, but 
 it was soon over. Before the vessel parted, the accent of 
 mortal woe was hushed. Not a man survived to tell the 
 tale!" 
 
 For an hour, they sat thus and talked. The subject had, 
 for Sarah, a feai-ful fascination, and, led on by her absorbed 
 attention, Philip rehearsed to her wonders and stories of the 
 mysterious old ocean, that to-day stretched before them, 
 blanched and angry, under the veil of summer cloud, until to 
 his auditor there were bitter wailings blent with the surge's 
 roar ; arms, strained and bare, were tossed above the dark,
 
 HUSKS. 65 
 
 serpent-like swell of water, in unavailing supplication, and 
 livid, dead faces stared upon her from beneath the curling 
 crests of the breakers. 
 
 That day on the Deal Beach ! How quietly happy was its 
 seeming ! how full of event, emotion, fate was its reality ! 
 Charley and Jeannie wandered up and down the coast, fill- 
 ing their baskets with shells and pebbles; chasing the re- 
 tiring waves as far as they dared, and scampering back, with 
 shrieks of laughter, as the succeeding billow rolled rapidly 
 after them ; building sand-houses, and digging wells to be 
 filled by salt-water ; exulting greatly when a rough coralline 
 fragment, or a jelly-fish of unusual dimensions was thrown 
 in their way. They all lunched together, seated upon the 
 heather-clumps, around Aunt Sarah's liberal hamper. 
 
 "Sister!" said Jeannie, when the edge of her sea-side 
 appetite was somewhat blunted by her repast, " I like living 
 here better than in Now York don't you?" 
 
 " It is more pleasant in summer, my dear." 
 
 " But I mean that I am happier here ! I wish you would 
 write to mother, and ask her to let us live here always." 
 
 " But what would she do without her baby ?" asked Phil- 
 ip, emphasizing the last word. 
 
 The little lady bridled instantly. 
 
 " Cousin Phil ! I do wish you would never call me a 
 ' baby' again ! I am seven years and two weeks old. I 
 could get along very well without mother for a while. Of 
 course, I would go over sometimes, and pay her a visit and 
 get new dresses. Shrewsbury is a nice place ; I would like 
 to buy that pretty white house next to Uncle Nathan's, and 
 live there sister, and Charley, and I and you if you 
 would promise not to tease me ever !" 
 
 " Thank you !" said Philip, with admirable gravity, seem- 
 ing not to note Sarah's heightened color at this proposal of 
 copartnership. " You are very kind to include me in
 
 66 THE EMPTY HE ART; OR, 
 
 household arrangements, and nothing would please me bet- 
 ter, if I could stay here. But you know, Jeannie, my dear 
 little cousin, that my home is far away from this quarter of 
 the world. I have remained here too long already." There 
 was a touch of feeling or nervousness in his voice. " I had 
 a letter last night, reminding me that I ought to have left a 
 week ago, to join a party of friends, whom I promised to 
 meet in New York, and travel with them until the time for 
 our return to the South." 
 
 He did not look at Sarah, but she felt that the explanation 
 was intended for her that, whether intentionally or not, he 
 was preparing her for a blow to heart and hope. 
 
 " I shall be obliged to leave Shrewsbury and ah 1 my friends 
 there, to-morrow morning, Jeannie !" 
 
 The child's exclamation of dismay, and Charley's quick, 
 mute remonstrance to his cousin, as his playfeUow commu- 
 nicated the news to him, gava Sarah time to rally firmness 
 and words. 
 
 " This is unexpected intelligence," she said, calmly. " We 
 shall miss you. Your kindness has, directly and indirectly,- 
 been the means of affording us much pleasure during our 
 visit to our good aunt. It will seem dull when you are 
 gone." 
 
 There was a flash in Philip's eye that looked like pleasure 
 a mixture of relief and surprise, as he turned to her. 
 
 " I am selfish enough to hope that you will miss me for a 
 time, at least. I shall not then be so soon forgotten. We 
 have had some pleasant days and weeks together ; have we 
 not ?" 
 
 "7" have enjoyed them, assuredly." 
 
 She was a little pale, Philip thought, but that might be 
 the effect of fatigue. Her cheek was seldom blooming, 
 unless when flushed in animated speech, or by brisk exer 
 cise. She spoke of his going with politeness, that seemed
 
 HUSKS. 67 
 
 scarce one remove from carelessness ; and, man-like, hia 
 pleasure at the thought that their association in the country 
 house had not been followed by the results Aunt Sarah 
 wished and predicted, gave way to a feeling of wounded 
 vanity and vexation, that his summer's companion could re 
 linquish him so easily. While he repeated to himself his 
 congratulations that his friendly and gallant attentions had 
 not been misconstrued, had not awakened any inconvenient 
 because futile " expectations," he wondered if it were a pos 
 sibility for a girl of so much sense and feeling, such genuine 
 appreciation of his talents and tastes, to know him well - 
 even intimately without experiencing a warmer sentiment 
 than mere approval of an agreeable associate's mind and 
 manners, and Platonic liking for him on these accounts. 
 
 With the respectful familiarity of a privileged acquaint- 
 ance, he drew her hand within his arm, as they arose at the 
 conclusion of the collation. 
 
 " We have yet two hours and more to spend here, before 
 we set out for home. We can have one more walk and talk 
 together." 
 
 They took but one turn on the beach, and returning to 
 their morning's seat beside the half-buried keel, tried to talk 
 as they had done then. It was hard work, even to the man 
 ,of the world, the heart-free student of human nature. 
 Gradually the conversation languished and died away, and, 
 for a while, both sat silent, looking out upon the sea. Then 
 Philip's gaze came back to his companion stealthily at first, 
 and, as she remained unconscious of his scrutiny, it lingered 
 long and searchingly upon features, form, and attire. 
 
 There were white, tight lines about her mcuth, and a 
 Blight knitting of the brow, that imparted a care-worn look 
 to the young face, it pained him to see. Her hands were 
 clasped upon her knee, and the fingers were bloodless where 
 they interlaced one another. Was she suffering ? Was the
 
 68 THE EMPTY HEAKT; OB, 
 
 threatened parting the cause of her disquiet? If this were 
 so, what was his duty as a man of honor of common hu- 
 manity ? And if he were forced to admit that he held her 
 happiness in his power, and to accept the consequences that 
 must ensue from his idle gallantry and her mistaken read- 
 ing of the same, was the thought really repulsive ? Would 
 it be a total sacrifice of feeling to a sense of right ? It was 
 a repetition, grave and careful, of the revery of that July 
 night, two weeks ago. 
 
 Sarah's hat a broad -brimmed "flat" of brown straw had 
 fallen back upon her shoulders, and the sea-breeze played in 
 her hair, raising the short and loose strands, and giving to 
 the whole a rough, " frowzy" look. Her plain linen collar 
 and undersleeves showed her complexion and hands to the 
 worst possible advantage. Upon her cheeks, this same un- 
 friendly wind had bestowed a coat of tan and a few freck- 
 les, that were all the more conspicuous from her pallor, while 
 her fingers were as brown as a gypsy's. Her gray poplin 
 dress had lost most of its original gloss, and being one of 
 Mrs. Hunt's bargains " a cheap thing, but plenty good for 
 that outlandish Shrewsbury" already betrayed its cotton 
 warp by creases that would not be smoothed, and an aspect 
 of general limpness a prophecy of speedy, irremediable 
 shabbiuessi Cast loosely about her shoulders was a light 
 shawl, green, with black sprigs another bargain ; and be- 
 yond the skirt of her robe appeared the toe and instep of a 
 thick-soled gaiter, very suitable for a tramp through damp 
 sand, yet any thing but becoming to the foot it protected. 
 
 With an impatient shake of the head, involuntary and 
 positive, Philip closed his final observation. And cutting 
 off a large splinter from the weather-beaten timber, against 
 which he leaned, set about trimming it, wearing a serious, 
 settled face, that said his mind was fully made up 
 
 What had Sarah seen all this while ?
 
 HTJBK8. 69 
 
 Heavens, over which the films of the forenoon had thick- 
 ened into dun cloud-curtains, stretching above, and enwrap- 
 ping the world ; a wild, dreary expanse of troubled waters, 
 whose horizon line was lost in the misty blending of sea 
 and sky, ever hurrying and heaving to moan out their unrest 
 upon the barren beach. In the distance was a solitary sail 
 nearer to the land, a large sea-bird flew heavily against the 
 wind. In such mateless, weary flight, must her life be passed ; 
 that lone, frail craft was not so hopelessly forlorn upon a 
 gloomy sea, beneath a sky that gloomed yet more darkly 
 as was her heart, torn suddenly from its moorings anchor, 
 and rudder, and compass gone ! Yet who could syllable 
 the mighty sorrow of the complaining sea? And were 
 there words in human language, that could tell the anguish 
 of the swelling flood beating .within her breast ? 
 
 " Going away ! To-morrow !" For a little space this 
 was all the lament she kept repeating over to herself. 
 Pregnant with woe she knew it to be, yet it was not until 
 she was allowed to meditate in silence upon the meaning of 
 the words that she realized what had truly come upon her. 
 She had thrown away all her hope of earthly happiness 
 risked it as madly, lost it as surely, as if she had tossed it 
 a tangible pearl into the yawning ocean. Her instinct 
 assured her that, were it otherwise, the tidings of Philip's 
 intended departure, his suddenly formed resolution to leave 
 ner, would have been conveyed to her in a far different 
 manner. Her keen backward glance penetrated Aunt 
 Sarah's simple wiles ; his obvious annoyance thereat ; his 
 determination to save himself from suspicion ; his honorable 
 fear lest she, too, should imagine him loving, where he was 
 only civil and kind. Yes, it was all over ! The best thing 
 she could hope to do, the brightest prospect life had now 
 for her, was that her secret should remain hers alone, until 
 the troubled heart moaned itself into the rest which knows
 
 70 THE EMPTY HEART; OB, 
 
 no waking. She was used to concealment. All her exist- 
 ence, excepting the sweet delusive dream of the past three 
 weeks, had been a stern preparation for this trial. But she 
 was already weary and faint fit to lie down and die, so 
 intense had been the throe of this one struggle. 
 
 " How long is this to last ? How long ?" 
 
 The exclamation actually broke, in an inarticulate murmur, 
 from her lips. 
 
 " Did you speak ?" inquired Philip. 
 
 " I think not. I am not sure. I did not intend to do 
 so!" 
 
 " Grant me credit for my forbearance in not obtruding 
 my prosaic talk upon your musings," he went on, playfully. 
 " It was a powerful temptation for I remember, constantly, 
 that this is our last opportunity for a genuine heart and 
 head confabulation, such as I shall often linger for, after I 
 leave you and sincerity ! You have done me good, Miss 
 Sarah ; taught me Faith, Hope, Charity a blessed sister- 
 hood !" 
 
 " May they ever attend you !" 
 
 " Amen ! and thank you ! And what wish shall I make 
 in return for your beautiful benediction ?" 
 
 " Whatever you like. My desires are not many or ex- 
 travagant." 
 
 " You are wrong. You have a craving heart and a crav- 
 ing mind. May both be fed to the full, with food convenient 
 for them in measures pressed down, shaken together, and 
 running over." 
 
 "Of what? Husks?" was Sarah's unspoken and bitter 
 eply. She could not thank him, as he had done her She 
 only bowed, and, bending forward, took up a handful of the 
 fine white sand that formed the shore. Slowly sifting it 
 through her fingers, she waited for him to speak again. 
 
 Was this careless equanimity real or feigned ? The
 
 H U 8 K 8 . 71 
 
 judge of character, the harpist upon heart-chords, made the 
 next move not the candid manly friend. 
 
 " I am going to ask a favor of you a bold one." 
 
 " Say on." 
 
 " By the time I am ready to retrace my steps southward, 
 you Avill be again settled in New York. Will you think me 
 presumptuous, if I call at your father's house to continue an 
 acquaintance which has been, to me, at once agreeable and 
 profitable ?" 
 
 The fingers were still, suddenly. A warm glow, like 
 sunrise, swept over cheek and forehead. A smile, slight 
 but sweet, quivered upon her lips. Drowning in the depths, 
 she heard across the billow a hail that spoke of hope, life, 
 happiness. 
 
 " We will all be glad to see you," she said, with affected 
 composure. 
 
 " Not half so glad as I shall be to come. Will you now, 
 while you think of it, give me your address ?" 
 
 He handed her a card and a pencil. She wrote the re- 
 quired direction, and received in exchange for it the now 
 smooth bit of wood, which had afforded occupation to Philip 
 for half an hour past. It was tendered in mock ceremony, 
 and accepted smilingly. Upon the gray tablet was inscrib- 
 ed, "Philip Benson, Deal Beach, July 27th, 1856." A 
 playful or thoughtless impulse caused him to extend his 
 hand for it, after she had read it, and to add a motto, stale 
 as innocent in his eyes : Pensez d moi /" 
 
 " I shah 1 preserve it as a souvenir of the day and place," 
 observed Sarah, slipping it into her pocket. 
 
 Twilight overtook them before they reached home, and 
 the night was too cloudy and damp for a promenade, such 
 as they often had in the garden walks and lane, or for the 
 customary family gathering in the long porch. Yet Aunt 
 Sarah was surprised that Philip was apparently content to
 
 72 THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 spend the evening in the sitting-room, with herself and 
 husband by, to spoil the tete-d-tete he must be longing for. 
 
 Still more confounded was she, when, after her clever 
 strategy of coaxing Uncle Xathan into the kitchen, that the 
 coast might be clear, she heard Philip's step close behind 
 them 
 
 " I must clean my gun to-night, aunt," he said, taking it 
 from the corner ; " I shall not have time to do it to-mor- 
 row." 
 
 With the utmost nonchalance he began the operation, 
 whistling softly a lively air over his work. Aunt Sarah 
 gave her partner a look of bewildered despair, which he 
 returned by a confirmatory nod, and a smile, half comic, half 
 regretful 
 
 After breakfast next morning, the nephew-guest said 
 affectionate farewells to his relatives and Jeannie; a grave, 
 gentle adieu to Sarah, accompanied by a momentary pres- 
 sure of the hand, that may have meant much or little ; and 
 upon the snug homestead settled a quiet that was dreari- 
 ness itself to one of its inmates.
 
 HUSKS. 73 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 MEANWHILE, how had the time sped to the nominal head 
 of the Hunt household the solitary, toiling father and 
 husband? The servants were dismissed when "the fami- 
 ly" left town, although Mr. Hunt continued to sleep at 
 home. A peripatetic maid-of-all-work what the English 
 denominate a char-woman was engaged to come early 
 eve.ry morning to clear up the only room in the establish- 
 ment that was used, before the cashier went out for his 
 breakfast, which he procured at a restaurant pretty far 
 down town. The same quiet coffee-house furnished him 
 wtth dinner and an early tea, after which last refreshment 
 he was at liberty to pass the evening hi whatever manner 
 he liked best. There was nothing in the city worth seeing 
 at this season, even if he had not lost all taste for shows 
 and gayety. Those of his acquaintances who were not 
 absent with their wives and daughters, were living like 
 .himself, furniture in overalls ; carpets covered; apartments 
 closed, with the exception, perhaps, of one bedroon? ; and 
 had no place in which to receive him if he had been in th 
 habit of visiting, which he was not. He was very tired, 
 moreover, by the title night came on, and as the heat 
 increased, and the days grew longer, his strength waned 
 more and more, and his spirits with it. Meekly and uncom- 
 plainingly he plodded through his routine of bank duties, 
 so steady and so faithful that his fellow-workers and 
 customers had come to regard him as a reliable fixture; a 
 4
 
 T4 THE EMPTY HEART; on, 
 
 piece of machinery, whose winding up was self-performed 
 and whose accuracy was infallible. 
 
 When, therefore, on a sultry August afternoon, he turned 
 to leave his desk at the close of business hours, grew 
 terribly pale, and dropped upon the floor in a tit of death- 
 like faintness, there was great consternation, and as much 
 wonder as if no human clock-work had ever given out 
 before, under a like process of exhausting demands. 
 
 Clumsily, but with the best of intentions, they brought 
 him to his senses, and in half an hour or so he was suffi- 
 ciently recovered to be taken home. There was a twitch- 
 ing of the lips that might have passed for a sarcastic smile, 
 as he heard the proposal to convey him to his house ; but ho 
 only gave his street and number, and lay silently back in 
 the carriage, supported by his friends, two of whom insisted 
 upon seeing him safely to his own abode. 
 
 " Is this the place ? Why, it is all shut up !" exclaimed 
 one of these gentlemen, as the driver drew up before the 
 dusty steps. 
 
 Mrs. Hunt's orders were that the entrance to her mansion 
 should present the most desolate air possible during her 
 absence. It had " an aristocratical look in the summer time, 
 when everybody but nobodies was rusticating." 
 
 Again that singular contortion of the mouth, and the 
 master (?) of the forlorn-looking habitation prepared to 
 descend, fumbling in his pocket for his pass-key. 
 
 " I am obliged to you, gentlemen, for your great kindness, 
 and will not trouble you longer." 
 
 In trying to raise his hand to his hat for a bow, the 
 ghastly hue again overspread his face, and he staggered. 
 Without further parley, his two aids laid hold of him, one 
 on each side, and supported him into the house, up one, two 
 flights of linen-draped stairs, to a back bedroom. 
 
 Mrs. Hunt would have let her husband faint on the side-
 
 HUSKS. 75 
 
 walk before she would have received company in that 
 chamber in its present condition ; for the handsomest arti- 
 cles of furaiture stood covered up in another apartment, aud 
 their place was supplied by a plain bureau, wash-stand, and 
 bed belonging to the boys' room, a story higher up. The 
 wisdom of this precaution was manifest in the signs of 
 neglect and slovenliness displayed on all sides. One could 
 have written his name in the dust upon the glass ; there 
 was dirt in every corner and under each chair and table ; the 
 wash-basin was partly full of dirty suds, and the towels and 
 counterpane shockingly dingy. 
 
 These things were not remarked by the intruders until 
 they had got their charge to bed, resisted no longer by him, 
 for he began to comprehend his inability to help himself. 
 
 " There is no one beside ourselves on the premises, not 
 even a servant," one of them said, apart to his associate, 
 after a brief absence from the room. " If you will stay with 
 him until I come back, I will go for a doctor." 
 
 The invalid caught the last word. 
 
 " Indeed, Mr. Hammond, there is no need for you to do 
 any thing more no necessity for calling in a physician. I 
 am quite comfortable now, and shall be well by morning." 
 . Mr. Hammond, who was a director in the bank, and 
 sincerely honored the honest veteran now prostrated by his 
 devoted performance of duty, took the hot, tremulous 
 hand in his. 
 
 " I cannot allow you to peril your valuable health, my 
 dear sir. Unless you positively forbid it, I shall not only 
 call your physician, but drop in again myself this evening, 
 and satisfy my mind as to whether you require my presence 
 through the night." 
 
 He was as good as his word ; but no amount of per 
 suasion could induce Mr. Hunt to accept his offered watch, 
 He would be "uneasy, unhappy, if his young friend sacri
 
 /6 THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 {iced his own rest so uselessly," and loath as he was to leav 
 him to solitude and suffering, Mr. Hammond had to yield. 
 At his morning visit, he found the patient more tractable. 
 After tedious hours of fevered wakefulness, he had en- 
 deavored to rise, only to sink back again upon his pillow 
 dizzy, sick, and now thoroughly alarmed at the state of his 
 system. He did not combat his friend's proposal to obtain 
 a competent nurse, and to look in on him in person as often 
 as practicable ; still, utterly refused to allow his wife to be 
 written to on the subject of his indisposition. 
 
 " I shall be better in a day or two, probably before she 
 could reach me. I have never had a speh 1 of illness. It is 
 not likely that this will be any thing of consequence. I 
 greatly prefer that she should not be apprised of this 
 attack." 
 
 Mr. Hammond was resolute on his part the more de- 
 termined, when the physician had paid another visit, and 
 pronounced the malady a low fever, that would, doubtless, 
 confine the sick man to his bed for several days, if not 
 weeks. 
 
 "It is not just to your wife and children, Mr. Hunt, to 
 keep them in ignorance of so important a matter!" he urged. 
 " They will have cause to feel themselves aggrieved by you,, 
 and ill-treated by me, if we practise this deception upon 
 them." 
 
 Mr. Hunt lay quiet for some minutes. 
 
 " Perhaps you are in the right," he said. " Sarah would 
 be wounded, I know. I will send for her!" he concluded, 
 with more animation. " She will come as soon as she re- 
 ceives the letter." 
 
 " Of course she will !" rejoined Mr. Hammond, confident- 
 ly ; "you are not able to write. Suffer me to be your 
 amanuensis." He sat down at a stand, and took out his pen. 
 " Where is Mrs. Hunt at present ?"
 
 HUSKS. /7 
 
 " I am not sure. Either at Saratoga or Newport. ' 
 
 Mr. Hammond looked surprised. " But it is necessary, 
 sir, that we should know with some degree of certainty, or 
 the letter may miscarry. Perhaps it would be well to write 
 to both places." 
 
 " The letter ! Both places !" repeated Mr. Hunt, with 
 perplexity. "I alluded to my daughter Sarah, sir, my 
 second child, who is spending the summer with her aunt in 
 Shrewsbury, New Jersey. May I take the liberty of asking 
 you to write her a short note, mentioning my sickness in as 
 guarded terms as you can use, and requesting her to come 
 up to the city for a few days ? She has my youngest child 
 a little girl with her. If she can be contented to remain 
 with her aunt, Sarah had better leave her there. She would 
 be an additional burden to her sister if she were here." 
 
 Whatever Mr. Hammond thought of the marked prefer- 
 ence shoAvn to the daughter above the wife, he said nothing, 
 but proceeded to indite the desired epistle, adding, in a 
 postscript, on his own account, that he would take pleasure 
 in meeting Miss Hunt at the wharf, on her arrival, and for 
 this purpose would be at the boat each day, until she made 
 her appearance in New York. 
 
 He went, accordingly, the next afternoon, although very 
 sure that she could not have received his letter hi season to 
 take that boat. Mr. Hunt had proved to him and to him- 
 self the utter impossibility of her coming, yet his eyea 
 brightened with expectancy as his friend entered, and faded 
 into sadness as he reported the ill-success of his errand. 
 
 " He is evidently extremely partial to this one of hia 
 children," thought Mr. Hammond, as he paced the wharf on 
 the second evening, watching, amid noisy hack-drivers and 
 express-men, for the steamer. " I have seen the girls at 
 parties, but do not remember their names. One of them is 
 very pretty. I wonder if she is ' Sarah !' "
 
 78 THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 It was growing dusk as the boat touched the pier. So 
 dim was the light, that Mr. Hammond was obliged to 
 station himself close beside the gangway, and inspect the 
 features of each lady passenger more narrowly than polite- 
 ness would, in other circumstances, have warranted. They 
 hurried across, men and women, tall and short, stout and 
 slender, until there tripped towards him the figure of a 
 young girl, attired in a gray dress and mantle, and carrying 
 a small travelling bag in her hand. She would have passed 
 him, had he not stepped forward and spoken. 
 
 " Miss Hunt, I believe !" 
 
 In the uncertain twilight, he could see that she grew 
 very pale. 
 
 " How is my father ?" 
 
 There was no preamble of civility or diffidence ; no re- 
 serve in addressing him, a mere stranger ; no trembling, 
 preparatory queries ; but a point-blank question, in a tone 
 whose impatient anguish moved his kind heart ; a piercing 
 look, that would know the truth then and there ! 
 
 "He is better, to-day" and he led her out of the press 
 of the onward stream. " He has not been dangerously ill. 
 We hope and believe that he will not be." 
 
 " Is that true ?" Her fingers tightened upon his arm. 
 
 " It is ! I would not, for the world, deceive you in such 
 a matter." 
 
 " I believe you ! Thank Heaven ! I feared the worst !" 
 She covered her face with her hands, and burst into tears. 
 
 Hammond beckoned to a hackman, close by, and wheu 
 the short-Jived reaction of over-wrought feeling subsided so 
 far as to allow Sarah to notice surrounding objects, she was 
 seated in the carriage, screened from curious or impertinent 
 gazers, and her escort was nowhere to be seen. Several 
 minutes elapsed before he again showed himself at the 
 window.
 
 "I must trouble you for your checks, Miss Hunt, Ji 
 order to get your baggage." 
 
 Already ashamed of her emotion, she obeyed his demand 
 without speaking. 
 
 " You have given me but one, ' he said, turning it over 
 in his hand. 
 
 "That is all, sir." 
 
 " Indeed ! You are a model traveller ! I thought no 
 young lady, in these days, ever stirred from home without 
 half a dozen trunks." To himself he added, " A sensible 
 girl ! An exception to most of her sex, in one thing, at 
 any rate !" 
 
 Sarah sat well back into her corner, as they drove up 
 lighted Broadway, and was almost rudely taciturn, while 
 her companion related the particulars of her father's seizure 
 and subsequent confinement to his room. Yet, that she 
 listened with intense interest, the narrator knew by her 
 irregular breathing and immovable attitude. As they 
 neared their destination, this fixedness of attention and 
 posture was exchanged for an eager restlessness. She leaned 
 forward to look out of the window, and when they turned 
 into the last street, quick as was Mr. Hammond's motion to 
 unfasten the door of the vehicle, her hand was first upon 
 the lock. It was cold as ice, and trembled so much as to be 
 powerless. Gently removing it, he undid the catch, and 
 assisted her to alight. 
 
 The hired nurse answered their ring, and while Sarah 
 brushed past her, and flew up the stairway, Mr. Hammond 
 detained the woman to make inquiries and issue directions. 
 
 *' It is all very dreary -like, sir," she complained. " Ever} 
 thing is packed away and locked up. There's no getting at 
 a lump of sugar without a hunt for the key, and all he's 
 seemed to care for this blessed day, was that his daughter 
 should be made comfortable. He sent me out this after
 
 80 THE EMPTY HEART; OB, 
 
 noon to buy biscuits, and sardines, and peaches for her tea, 
 and told me where I'd find silver and china. It is not at 
 all the thing for him to be worrying at such a rate. He'll 
 be worse for it to-morrow, and so I've told him, Mr. 
 Hammond." 
 
 " Perhaps not, Mrs. Kerr. His daughter's coming will 
 cheer him and quiet him too, I doubt not. I will not go 
 up now. Please present my regards to Mr. Hunt, and 
 say that I will call to-morrow." 
 
 He purposely deferred his visit until the afternoon, sup- 
 posing that Miss Hunt might object to his early and un- 
 ceremonious appearance in the realms now under her con- 
 trol ; nor when he went did he ascend at once to the sick- 
 chamber, as was his custom before the transfer of its 
 superintendence. Sending up his name by the nurse, he 
 awaited a formal invitation, among the shrouded sofas and 
 chairs of the sitting-room. 
 
 " You'll please to walk up, sir !" was the message he re- 
 ceived; and the woman subjoined, confidentially, "Things 
 is brighter to-day, sir." 
 
 They certainly were. With wonderfully little noise and 
 confusion, Sarah, assisted by the nurse, had wrought an 
 utter change in the desolate apartment. With the excep- 
 tion of the bureau, which had been drawn out of sight into 
 the adjoining dressing-room, and the bedstead, the com- 
 mon, defaced furniture had disappeared, and its place was 
 supplied by more comfortable and elegant articles. The 
 windows were shaded, without giving an aspect of gloom 
 to tlie chamber ; the bed-coverings were clean and fresh ; 
 and the sick man, supported by larger and plumper pillows 
 than those among which he had tossed for many weary 
 nights, greeted his visitor with a cordial smile and out- 
 stretched hand. 
 
 "I thank you for your kind care of my daughter last
 
 HUSKS. 
 
 evening, sir. Sarah, my dear, this is my friend, Mr. 
 mond, to whose goodness I am so much indebted." 
 
 " The debt is mine no less," was the frank reply as she 
 shook hands with hei new acquaintance. " We <? .a never 
 thank you sufficiently, Mr. Hammond, for all you aave done 
 or us, in taking care of him." 
 
 "A genuine woman! a dutiful, affectionat daughter!" 
 was now Hammond's comment, as he disclaiir ;d all right to 
 her gratitude. "None of your sentiment .1, affected ab- 
 surdities, with nothing in either head or heart !" 
 
 This impression was confirmed by daily observation ; for 
 politeness first, then inclination, induced him to continue his 
 "professional" calls, as Sarah styled them. He seemed to 
 divide with her the responsibility of her position. Its 
 duties were onerous; but for this she did not care. She 
 was strong and active, and love made labor light even 
 welcome to her. A competent cook was inducted into 
 office below stairs, and house .old matters went forward 
 with system and despatch. r he eye of the mistress, pro 
 tern., was over all ; her hanc 1 ever ready to lift her share of 
 the load, yet her attendant at her father's bedside appeared 
 unremitting. His diseas' , without being violent, was dis- 
 tressing and wearing, destroying sleep and appetite, and 
 preying constantly upon the nerves. To soothe these, 
 Sarah read and talked cheerfully, and often, at his request, 
 sang old-time ballads and childish lullabys to court diversion 
 and slumber. 
 
 Occasionally Lewis Hammond paused without the door 
 nntil the strain was concluded, drinking in the notes with, 
 more pleasure than he was wont to feel in listening to the 
 bravuras and startling, astonishing cadenzas that were war- 
 bled in his ears by the amateur cantatrices of the "best 
 circles;" then, when the sounds from within ceased, he 
 delayed his entrance some moments longer, lest the song- 
 4*
 
 82 THE EMPTY HEART; OB, 
 
 stress should suspect his eaves-dropping. He ceased to 
 speculate upon the reasons of Mrs. Hunt's protracted ab- 
 sence at a time when no true-hearted wife could, from 
 choice, remain away from her rightful post. When, at the 
 expiration of a fortnight from the day of the attack, the 
 physician declared his patient feebly, but surely conva- 
 lescent, his young friend had decided, to his entire satisfac- 
 tion, that things were best as they were. Mr. Hunt had 
 made a most judicious selection from the female portion 
 of his family, and what need of more nurses when this one 
 was so efficient and willing? He caught himself hoping 
 that the fussy dame he had met in society would not 
 abridge her summer's recreation on account of an ailing 
 husband. He had designed going to Saratoga himself, for 
 ten days or two weeks ; but he was very well. It was diffi- 
 cult to get away from business, and this affair of Mr. 
 Hunt's enlisted his sympathies so deeply, that he could not 
 resolve upon leaving him. If he had never before enjoyed 
 the bliss that flows from a disinterested action, he tasted it 
 now. 
 
 Mrs. Hunt was not kept in total ignorance of what was 
 transpiring at home. Sarah had written, cautiously and 
 hopefully, of her father's sickness and her recall ; repeat- 
 ing Mr. Hunt's wish that his consort should not hurry back 
 through mistaken solicitude for his health and comfort ; and 
 they were taken at their word. A week elapsed before an 
 answer arrived a lengthy missive, that had cost the writer 
 more pains and time than the preparation for her annual 
 "crush" generally did. She was an indifferent penman, 
 and sadly out of practice; but there was much to be said, 
 ^nd " Lucy, of course, circumstanced as she was, could not 
 spare time to be her scribe." 
 
 The significant phrase underscored quickened Sarah's 
 curiosity ; but there was nothing for the next three pages
 
 HTJ8Z8. 83 
 
 that fed or quieted it. They were filled with minute direc- 
 tions about housewifery economical details, that wo^uld 
 have served as capita, illustrations of "Poor Richard's" 
 jniaxims; injunctions, warnings, and receipts sufficient in 
 quantity to last a young, frugally-disposed housekeeper for 
 the remainder of her natural existence. It was a trial to 
 this exemplary wife and mother, she confessed, to absent 
 herself so long from her home duties; but circumstances 
 had compelled her stay at Saratoga. Of their nature, 
 Sarah had already been informed in her sister's last letter. 
 
 " Which I cannot have received, then " Sarah inter- 
 rupted herself to say, as she read to her father : " I have 
 not heard from Lucy in four weeks. I have thought hard 
 of her for not writing." 
 
 " But," concluded Mrs. Hunt, " matters looks well just 
 now, and I know your father will aggree, when he heers 
 all about our season's work, that our labor and Money has 
 been a good investment. Take care of the keys yourself, 
 Sarah. Be pruedent, keep a sharp Lookout on the cook, 
 and don't negleck your poor father. Your Affectionate 
 mother, E. HUNT. 
 
 "P. S. Your kitchen Girl must have a Great deel of 
 spair Time. Set her to work cleening the House, for you 
 may expeckt us home in two weeks, or maybe Less. 
 
 E. H." 
 
 Lucy had slipped a note in the same envelope a thin, 
 satiny sheet, hardly larger than the little hand that had 
 tnovea over its perfumed page. Her chirrgraphy was very 
 running, very light, very ladylike, and, we need not say, 
 Very italical 
 
 " Mamma tells me, Sarah dear, that she has given yon a 
 hint of how matters are progressing between your humble 
 servant and our particular friend, of whom I wrote in my
 
 84 THE EMPTY HEART; OR 
 
 last. The poor, dear woman flatters herself that it is all 
 her work; but somebody else may have his own opinion, 
 and" I certainly have mine. I have had to caution her re- 
 peatedly, to prevent her from showing her delight too^ 
 plainly to my ' Goldfinch,' as Vic. and I have dubbed him. 
 Don't be in a hurry with your congratulations, ma chere. 
 'There's many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip;' and 
 although the season is so near over, I may yet see some 
 one whom I like better than His Highness. Vie. has a 
 beau, too a rich widower, less fascinating than my 
 devoted ; but a very agreeable man, without encumbrance, 
 and very much smitten. So we pair off nicely in our rides 
 and promenades, and, entre nous, are quite the talk. You 
 are a good little thing to nurse papa so sweetly -a, great 
 deal better than I am. I told my knight of this proof of 
 your excellence the other day, and he said that it was only 
 what might have been expected from my sister ! Don't you 
 feel flattered f Poor fellow! Love is blind, you know. 
 
 " Love to papa. I am sorry he has been so unwell. I do 
 not imagine that I shall have time to write again before we 
 leave this paradise. We will telegraph you when to ex- 
 pect us. Perhaps I may have an escort home some one 
 who would like to have a private conference with my re- 
 spected father. JVous verrons ! 
 
 " Lovingly, LUCIE." 
 
 Mr. Hunt twisted himself uneasily in his arm-chair as 
 his daughter, by his desire, reluctantly read aloud the 
 double letter. A shade of dissatisfaction and shame clouded 
 his countenance when she finished, and he sighed heavily. 
 
 "I am glad they are still enjoying themselves," said 
 Sarah, forcing a smile. "Lucy has secured a captive too, 
 it appears one whom she is likely to bring home at her 
 chariot wheels."
 
 HUSKS. 85 
 
 " In my day daughters were in the habit of consulting 
 their fathers before giving decidtd encouragement to any 
 admirers, strangers especially," said Mr. Hunt, with dis- 
 pleasure. " In these times there are no parents ! There 
 is the 'old man' and 'the Governor,' who makes the 
 money his children honor him by wasting, and the ' poor, 
 dear woman,' who plays propriety in the belle's flirtations, 
 and helps, or hinders, in snaring some booby ' Goldfinch.' 
 It is a lying, cheating, hollow world ! I have been sick of 
 it for twenty years !" 
 
 " Father ! my dear father," exclaimed Sarah, kneeling be- 
 side him, and winding her arm about his neck. " You mis- 
 judge your children, and their love for you !" 
 
 " I believe in you, child ! I cannot understand how you 
 have contrived to grow up so unlike your sister and your " 
 The recollection of the respect his daughter owed her moth- 
 er, checked the word. 
 
 " You do not deal fairly with Lucy's character, father. 
 She has one of the kindest hearts and most amiable disposi- 
 tions in the world. I wish I had caused you as little anxiety 
 as she has. Remember her obedience and my wilfulness ; 
 her gentleness and my obstinacy, and blush at your verdict, 
 Sir Judge !" 
 
 She seated herself upon his foot-cushion and rested her 
 chin upon his knee, looking archly up in his face. She waa 
 surprised and troubled at this degree of acrimony in one 
 whose habitual manner was so placid, and his judgment so 
 mild ; but, for his sake, she was resolute not to show her 
 feeling. He laid his hand caressingly upon her shoulder, 
 and sank into a revery, profound, and seemingly not 
 pleasant. 
 
 Sarah took advantage of his abstraction to remove the 
 wrapper of a newspaper received by the saiae mail that 
 had brought her letters. The operation was carefully per-
 
 8G 
 
 THE E M P T Y HEART; OK, 
 
 formed, so as not to invite notice, and the envelope laid away 
 in her work-box. She knew well who had traced the clear, 
 bold superscription, and what initials composed the mysteri- 
 ous cipher in one corner of the cover ; nor was this the 
 only token of recollection she had from this source. The 
 article marked in the number of the literary journal he had 
 selected as the medium of correspondence, was an exquisite 
 little poem from an author whose works Philip had read to 
 her in the vine-covered porch at Shrewsbury. Slowly, 
 longingly she perused it ; gathering sweetness from every 
 word, and fancying how his intonations would bring out 
 beauties she could not of herself discover. Then she took 
 out the wrapper again, and studied the postmai-k. On the 
 former papers he had sent the stamp was illegible, but this 
 was easily deciphered " Albany." 
 
 " So near ! He is returning homewards !" was the glad 
 reflection that flooded her face with joy. 
 
 " Sarah !" said her father, abruptly. " Do you ever think 
 of marriage ?" 
 
 " Sir ?" stammered the girl, confused beyond measure. 
 
 " I mean, have you imbibed your sister's ideas on this 
 subject ? the notions of ninety-nine hundredths of girls in 
 your walk of life. Do you intend to seek a husband, boldly 
 and unblushingly, in all public places ? to degrade your- 
 self by practising the arts they understand so well to 
 catch an ' eligible' partner, who may repay your insincerity 
 and mercenary views by insult and infidelity -at best by in- 
 difference! Child! you do not know the risk match-making 
 mothers and husband-hunting daughters run ; the terrible 
 retribution that may be that often is in store for such ! 1 
 had rather see you and your sister dead, than the victims 
 of that most hateful of heartless shows a fashionable mar- 
 riage ! Poor Lucy ! poor Lucy !" 
 
 " I hope you are distressing yourself without reason, sir.
 
 HUSKS. 87 
 
 Mother is not the person to surrender her child to one whose 
 character and respectability are not indisputable. Nor is 
 Lucy sentimental. I do not fear her suffering very acutely 
 from any cause." 
 
 " I grant that. You would be more to be pitied as an un- 
 loved or unloving wife, than she. I tremble for you some- 
 times, when I think of this chance. My daughter, when 
 you marry, look beyond the outside show. Seek for moral 
 worth and a true heart, instead of dollars and cents !" 
 
 " I will ! I promise !" said Sarah, her amazement at his 
 earnestness and choice of topics combining to shake her 
 voice and constrain her smile. " But there is time enough 
 for that, father dear. When the man of heart and worth 
 sues for my poor hand, I will refer him to you, and abide 
 entirely by your decision." 
 
 " Mr. Hammond is down-stairs," said the servant at the 
 door. And Sarah, gathering up her papers, escaped from 
 the room before he entered.
 
 88 THE EMPTY HEARTJ OB, 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 MR. HUNT was able to resume his place in the bank sev eral 
 days before his wife returned. Uncle Nathan had brought 
 Jeannie home as soon as her father could leave his room, 
 and the boys had likewise been written for ; so that the fam- 
 ily reunion was apparently near at hand. 
 
 Weak as he was, Mr. Hunt met his spouse and daughter 
 at the depot, and the noise of their entrance in the lower 
 hall first apprised Sarah of their arrival. To the bound of 
 pleasurable excitement her heart gave at the certainty that 
 they had come, succeeded a sigh at the termination of the 
 free, yet busy life she had led of late the probability that 
 she would be compelled to resume her old habits of feeling 
 and action. Driving back the selfish regret, she ran down 
 to welcome the travellers. 
 
 " How well you're looking, Sarah !" said Mrs. Hunt, after 
 kissing her. " I declare, if you was to arrange your hair 
 different, and study dress a bit, you would come near being 
 right down handsome." 
 
 " ' Handsome is as handsome does !' " quoted Mr. Hunt, 
 stoutly. " According to that rule, she is a beauty." 
 
 "Thank you, sir!" said Sarah, bowing low. And she 
 ried to forget, in her sister's affectionate greeting, the chill 
 and heart-sickness produced by her mother's business-like 
 manner and compliment. 
 
 " Having disposed of one daughter, she means to work 
 the other into merchantable shape!" was her cynical deduc- 
 tion from the dubious praise bestowed upon herself.
 
 HUSKS. 89 
 
 Mrs. Hunt pursued her way up the steps, examining and 
 remarking upon every thing she saw. 
 
 " Them stair-rods ain't so clean as they had ought to be, 
 Sarah. I'm afraid your girls are careless, or shirks. When 
 did you uncover the carpet ?" 
 
 " Some time ago, mother, while father was sick. There 
 were gentlemen calling constantly, and the cover looked 
 shabby, I thought." 
 
 "It couldn't be helped, I s'pose ; but the carpet is moie 
 worn than I expected to see it. With the heavy expenses 
 that will be crowding on us this fall and winter, we can't 
 afford to get any new things for the house." 
 
 Lucy, who preceded her sister, glanced back and laughed 
 meaningly. And Sarah was very glad that her father had 
 not overheard the observation, which confirmed her belief 
 that the beauty's hand was disposed of without the form of 
 consultation with her natural and legal guardian. 
 
 Dinner was announced by the time the travelling habili- 
 ments and dust were removed. Sarah had spared no pains 
 to provide a bountiful and tasteful repast, at the risk of in- 
 curring her mother's reproof for her extravagant proclivities. 
 But the dame was in high good-humor, and the youthful 
 purveyor received but a single sentence of deprecation. 
 
 " I hope you have not been living as high as this all thj 
 time, Sarah !" 
 
 " No, madam. Father's wants and mine were very few. 
 I foresaw that you would need substantial refreshment after 
 your journey." 
 
 " You was very thoughtful. We both have good appe- 
 tites, I guess. I know that I have." 
 
 " Mine will speak for itself," said Lucy. 
 
 " You have no idea how thaat girl has enjoyed every thing 
 since she has been away," observed Mrs. Hunt to her hus- 
 band. " There was Vic. West, who took it into her head
 
 90 THEE MPT Y HEART; OK, 
 
 that she ought to look die-away and peaking, and refuse food, 
 when her beau was by ; but Lu., she just went right along 
 and behaved natural, and I'm sure that somebody thought 
 more of her for it." 
 
 Mr. Hunt's face darkened for a moment ; but he couh 
 not find fault with his eldest child on her first evening a 
 home. 
 
 " So you have been quite a belle, Lucy," he said, pleas- 
 antly. 
 
 "Better than that, Mr. H. !" Mrs. Hunt checked her 
 triumphant announcement as the butler re-entered the room. 
 "I shouldn't wonder," she resumed, mysteriously, "if Lucy 
 was disposed to settle down into a steady, sedate matron 
 after her holiday." 
 
 " Don't you deceive yourself with that hope !" laughed 
 Lucy. 
 
 She was evidently pleased by these not over-delicate allu- 
 sions to her love-affairs, and, like her mother, extremely 
 complacent over the result of her recent campaign. Sarah 
 felt that, were she in her place, she would shrink from this 
 open jesting upon a sacred subject ; still, she had not ex- 
 pected that her sister would behave differently. Lucy's na- 
 ture was gentle without being fine ; affectionate, but shallow. 
 She would have had no difficulty in attaching herself to any 
 man whom her friends recommended as " a good match," 
 provided he were pleasing in exterior, and her most devoted 
 servitor. 
 
 The sisters had no opportunity of private converse until 
 they adjourned to the parlor for the evening. Lucy was 
 very beautiful in a blue silk, whose low corsage and short 
 gleeves revealed her superb shoulders and rounded arms. 
 Her complexion was a rich carmine, deepening or softening 
 with every motion one would have said, with every breath. 
 Her blue eyes fairly danced in a sort of subdued glee, very
 
 H TJ S K 8 . 91 
 
 charming and very becoming, but altogether unlike the ten 
 der, dewy light of " Love's first young dream." 
 
 " How lovely you have grown, sister !" said Sarah, ear 
 nestly. " Oh, Lucy, I don't believe you rightly value the 
 gift of beauty as I would do, if it were mine !" 
 
 " Nonsense !" The dimples, that made her smile so be- 
 witching, broke her blushes into rosy waves, as the conscious 
 fair one turned her face towards the mirror. " I am pleased 
 So hear that I am passable to-night. We may have visitors. 
 A friend of ours has expressed a great desire to see me in 
 nay home ' in the bosom of my family.' Ahem !" 
 
 She smoothed out an imaginary wrinkle in her bodice, an 
 >.xcuse for tarrying longer before the glass. 
 
 " He came to town with you, then ?" ventured Sarah. 
 
 Lucy nodded. 
 
 " And promised to call this evening ?" 
 
 '* Right again, my dear !" 
 
 She was graver now, for she had conceived the happy no- 
 tion of appropriating to her own use a cluster of white roses 
 and buds she discovered in the vase on the marble slab under 
 the mirror. If any thing could have enhanced the elegance 
 of her figure and toilet, it was the coiffure she immediately 
 set about arranging. Tho flowers were a present to Sarah 
 from Lewis Hammond ; but sho thought little of him or of 
 them, as Lucy laid them first on one, then the other side of 
 her head, to try the effect. 
 
 " And you really care for him, tister ?" came forth in such 
 a timid, anxious tone, that Lucy bavst into a fit of laughter. 
 
 " Yoa dear little modest piece of romantic simplicity ! 
 One would suppose that you were popping the question 
 yourself, from your behavior. Care for him ? Why 
 shouldn't I ? I need not say ' yes' unless I do, need 1 ?" 
 
 " But you take it so coolly ! A betrothal is, to sxx, Jach 
 a solemn thins."
 
 92 THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 " And to most other girls, perhaps, (There ! if I only had 
 a hair-pin. Don't rob yourself! thank you ! Isn't that an 
 improvement ?) As I was saying, why should I pretend to 
 be pensive and doleful, when I am as merry as a lark ? or 
 lovesick, when I have never lost a meal or an hour's sleep 
 from the commencement of the courtship until now ? That 
 is not my style, Sarah. I am very practical in my views 
 and feelings. Not that I don't play talking sentiment in 
 our genuine love-scenes, and I really like unbounded devo- 
 tion on the other side. It is decidedly pleasant to be adored 
 I was surprised to find how I enjoyed it." 
 
 " Oh, sister ! sister !" Sarah leaned her forehead on the 
 mantel, repelled and well-nigh disgusted by this heartless tri- 
 fling this avowed counterfeit so abhorrent to her feelings. 
 But Lucy was as much in earnest as she could be on such a 
 theme. She went on, unheeding her sister's ejaculation. 
 
 " You must understand, of course, that we are not posi- 
 tively engaged. I gave him Goldfinch a good scolding 
 for violating the rules of etiquette by addressing me while I 
 was away from home ; but it was just like him. He is as 
 impulsive as he can live. To punish him I refused to answer 
 him until after our return to New York, and his interview 
 with father. He would have written to him on the spot, 
 had I not forbidden him. He behaved so beautifully, that 
 I consented to his taking charge of us to the city, and I sup- 
 pose the rest must follow in good time. How melancholy 
 your face is ! Are you very much afilicted at the thought 
 of losing me ? "Why, Sarah ! my dear child, are those tears 
 in your eyes ? If she isn't crying in good earnest !" 
 
 And Lucy's musical laugh rolled through the rooms in 
 her enjoyment of the joke. What else could it be to her, elate 
 with her success in achieving the chief end of woman the 
 capture of a rich and handsome, in every respect an unex 
 ceptionable lover ?
 
 HUSKS. 93 
 
 " Hist !" she said, raising her finger. " He has come ! 
 Your eyes are red ! Run, and make yourself presentable !" 
 
 The door, opening from the hall into the front parlor, 
 swung on its hinges as Sarah gained the comparative ob- 
 scurity of the third and rear room. A strong impulse of in- 
 terest or curiosity there arrested her flight to enable her to 
 get a glimpse of her destined brother-in-law. Lucy had not 
 mentioned his proper name, since her earliest letter from 
 Newport had eulogized a certain George Finch, a Bostonian, 
 wealthy, and attentive to herself. Sarah's backward glance 
 fell upon the visitor as he met his queenly bride elect 
 directly under the blazing chandelier. 
 
 It was Philip Benson! 
 
 Chained to the spot by weakness or horror, the looker-on 
 stood motionless, while the suitor raised the lily fingers he 
 held to his lips, and then led Lucy to a seat. His voice 
 broke the spell. As the familiar cadences smote her ear, 
 the sharp pain that ran through every fibre of her frame 
 awakened Sarah from her stupor. 
 
 How she gained her room she never knew ; but she had 
 sense enough left to direct her flight to this refuge and, 
 when within, to lock the door. Then she threw up her 
 arms with a piteous, wailing cry, and fell across the bed, 
 dead for the time to further woe. 
 
 Alone and painfully she struggled back to consciousness. 
 Sitting upright, she stared wonderingly around her, unable 
 to recollect what had stricken her down. The chamber Avas 
 imperfectly lighted by the rays of the street lamp opposite, 
 and with the recognition of objects within its narrow limits 
 there crept back to her all that had preceded her retreat 
 thither. For the next hour she sat still her head bowed 
 upon her knees, amid the wrecks of her dream world. 
 
 Dreary and loveless as had been most of her previous 
 .ife, she had never endured any thing like this, unless one
 
 94 THE EMPTY HEART; OB, 
 
 miserable hour \ipon the Deal Beach, when Philip broke 
 the tidings of his intended departure, were a slight foretaste 
 of the agony, the utter despair, that claimed her now for its 
 victim. Since then, she had been hopeful. His promise of 
 a visit, the tokens of remembrance he had transmitted to 
 her every week, had kept alive memory and expectation r 
 and this was his coming ! this the occasion she had pictured 
 so fondly, painted with the brightest hues Love could 
 borrow from imagination ! She had heard again the voice 
 that had haunted her dreams, from their parting until now 
 heard it in deeper, softer tones than it had ever taken in 
 speech with her ; heart-music which told that his seekings 
 and yearnings for the one and only beloved were over. And 
 was not her quest of years ended likewise ? Truly, there 
 are two senses in which every search, every combat may be 
 said to be closed ; one when the victor grasps his prize, or 
 waves aloft his sword in the moment of triumph ; the other, 
 when, bleeding, maimed, or dying, the vanquished sinks to 
 the earth without power to rise ! 
 
 A tap at her door started Sarah. She did not stir until 
 it was repeated, and her father called her name. A stream 
 of light from the hall fell upon her face as she admitted 
 him. 
 
 " Daughter, what ails you ?" was his exclamation. 
 
 " I am not very well, father." 
 
 "I should think not, indeed! Come in here and lie 
 down !" He led her to the bed, arid, lighting the gas in 
 the chamber, came back to her and felt her pulse. 
 
 She knew what was the direction of his fears ; but to 
 correct his misapprehension was to subject herself to further 
 questioning. Passively she received the pressure of his 
 hand upon her head, the gentle stroking of the disordered 
 hair ; but, when he stooped to kiss her, he felt that she 
 trembled.
 
 HTJBKS. 95 
 
 " Dear child ! I shall never forgive myself if you have 
 taken the fever from me !" 
 
 " I do not fear that, father. My head aches, and I am 
 very tired. I have been so busy all day, you know." 
 
 "Yes, and for many other days. You are, without 
 djubt, overworked. I hope this may prove to be all the 
 matter with you. A night's rest may quite cure you." 
 
 " Yes, sir," she answered, chokingly. " You will excuse 
 me to , down-stairs ?" 
 
 " Certainly. Would you like to have your mother come 
 up to you ?" 
 
 " Oh, no, sir ! Please tell her there is no need of it.- I 
 shall be better to-morrow." 
 
 " Your sister" and he looked more serious, instead of 
 smiling " has a visitor. Her friend is an acquaintance 
 of yours, also, it appears the Mr. Benson whom you met 
 at your aunt's in July." 
 
 " Yes, sir. I know it." 
 
 " I understood you to say that Lucy had never said 
 positively who her lover was ; but this was not the name 
 you told me of, as the person whom you imagined him to 
 be." 
 
 " I was misled for a time myself, sir," replied the pbor 
 girl, pressing her temples between her palms. 
 
 " I see that I am tiring you. Forgive me ! but it is so 
 natural to consult you in every thing. I must trouble you 
 with some questions, which it is important should be an- 
 swered to-night, before this gentleman and myself have any 
 conversation. Is Mr. Benson a man whom you consider 
 worthy of trust? Yuur mother represents him to be enor 
 niously wealthy a reputation I had concluded he possessed, 
 from Lucy's pet name for him. It is well that your sister 
 has a prospect of marrying advantageously in this respect, 
 for she would never be happy in an humble sphere; but
 
 96 THE EMPTY HEART; OK, 
 
 antiquated people like myself regard other things as of 
 greater consequence in concluding a bargain for a lifetime. 
 Is your opinion of Mr. Benson favorable as to disposition, 
 principles, and conduct?" 
 
 Sarah's head rested on the foot-board of her couch, in 
 weariness or pain, as she rejoined : " I saw and heard noth- 
 ing of him, during our intercourse in the country, that was 
 not creditable. His uncle and aunt are very partial to him, 
 and speak of his character in high terms. Their testimony 
 ought to have weight with you, for they have known him 
 from his boyhood up." 
 
 " It ought and does ! I am relieved to hear all this I 
 very much pleased !" said Mr. Hunt", emphatically. " I have 
 all confidence in Nathan Benson's judgment and integrity. 
 I hope his nephew is as sterling a man. Thus far," he con- 
 tinued, playfully, " I have learned but one thing to his dis- 
 credit, and that is, that having seen this one of my daughters, 
 he could afterwards fall in love with the other." 
 
 " I am not beautiful and good like Lucy, father." 
 
 "Very dear and lovely in my eyes, my child! Again 
 forgive me for having worried your poor head with my 
 inquiries. I was unwilling to decide a matter where Lucy's 
 happiness was involved, without obtaining your evidence 
 in the case. A last good-night! and God bless you, my 
 dearest, best daughter !" 
 
 Sarah held up her face for his kiss without attempting to 
 speak. This burning ordeal, the harder to endure because 
 unexpected, was over. She was as weak as a child with 
 conflicting passions when she arose and endeavored to 
 undress. After stopping several times to regain breath and 
 strength, she was at last ready to creep into bed, there to 
 lie until morning broke, sleepless and suffering. 
 
 Her sharpened senses could discern her father arid 
 mother's voices in the sitting-room, in confidential talk in
 
 HUSKS. 97 
 
 terrupted, by and by, by Lucy's pure mellow tones, appar- 
 ently conveying some message to the former. Its import 
 was easily surmised, for his step was then heard in the hall 
 and on the stairs, until he reached the parlor where Philip 
 awaited him. Their conference did not occupy more than 
 twenty minutes, which time Lucy spent with her mother 
 how gayly, Sarah could judge by the laugh that, again and 
 again, reached her room. Mr. Hunt returned, spoke a few 
 sentences in his calm, grave way, and the closing door was 
 followed by a flutter of silk and fall of gliding footsteps, as 
 Lucy went down to her now formally and fully betrothed 
 husband. 
 
 " Husband !" Yes ! it was even so ! Henceforth the 
 lives of the pair were to be as one in interest, in aims, in 
 affection. Erelong, they would have no separate outward 
 existence in the eyes of the world. Was his chosen love, 
 then, in a truer and higher sense, his other self- the being 
 sought so long and carefully? The pretty fiancee would 
 have stretched her cerulean orbs in amazed wonder at the 
 ridiculous doubt, and asked, in her matter-of-fact way, how 
 the thing could have happened, if it had not been intended ? 
 Philip's indignant affirmative would have gained fervor from 
 his exultant consciousness of possession so novel and 
 sweet. But one above stairs, taught sagacity by the 
 depth of her grief, looked further into the future than did 
 they, and read there a different reply. 
 
 She heard the clang of the front door as it shut after th 
 young lover, arid, in the still midnight, the echoes, faint and 
 fainter, of his retreating footsteps the same free, light 
 tread she used to hearken for in porch and hall of that river- 
 side farm-house ; and as the remembrance came over her 
 she turned her face to the wall, murmuring passionately, 
 " Oh ! if I could never, never see him again !" 
 
 This feeling, whether born of cowardice or desperation, 
 5
 
 THE EMPTY HEART; OB, 
 
 was the ruling one, when her mother looked in upon her 
 before breakfast, and expressed her concern at finding her 
 still in bed. 
 
 " I am not well enough to get up, mother !" Sarah said 
 sincerely, and Mrs. Hunt, reading in the parched lips and 
 blood-shot eyes proof of the justice of the fears her husband 
 had expressed to her the preceding evening, resolved that 
 the doctor should see her "before she was two hours 
 older." 
 
 In vain Sarah entreated that this should not be done, and 
 prophesied her recovery without his assistance. For once 
 her parents were a unit in sentiment and action, and the 
 physician was summoned to his second patient. 
 
 " All febrile symptoms were to some extent contagious," 
 he affirmed ; " and while Mr. Hunt's malady was not gener- 
 ally classed with such, it was very possible that his daugh- 
 ter had contracted an analogous affection, in her constant 
 attendance upon him." 
 
 This decision Sarah dared not overthrow, much as she 
 wished to do so, when she saw how it afflicted her father. 
 
 Undaunted by any fears of infection, Lucy repaired t<? 
 her sister's chamber when she had despatched . her break 
 fast. 
 
 "Isn't it too provoking that you should be sick just at 
 this time ?" she began, perching herself, school-girl fashion, 
 on the foot of the bed. " I really admired your staying up 
 Btairs last night ; but 1 did not dream that you really were 
 not well. I promise you that I made capital of your ab- 
 sence. I told Philip (how odd it sounds, doesn't it ?) that 
 you ran away when he rang the bell, because you had made 
 a fright of yourself by crying over the prospect of my leav- 
 ing you, and that I had no doubt that you had grieved 
 yourself into a headache. He wanted to know forthwith if 
 you objected to my marrying him; but I said 'No;' that
 
 HUSKS. 99 
 
 you were charmed with the match, and preferred him to any 
 other admirer I had ever had ; bub that we you and I 
 were so devoted to one another, that it was acute agony to 
 us to think of parting. About ten o'clock he asked to see 
 father, and they soon settled affairs. When I went down 
 again, he tried a little ring on my finger that he always 
 wears, and it fitted nicely. So I knew what it meant when 
 he put it back upon his own hand, and that with that for a 
 measure he could not go wrong in getting the engagement- 
 ring. I do hope it will be a diamond. Vic. West declares 
 that she would not accept any thing else. I considered for 
 a while whether I couldn't give him a delicate hint on the 
 subject, but I did not see how I could manage it. And 
 don't you think, while I was studying about this, lie fancied 
 I was sober over ' the irrevocable step I had taken,' and be- 
 came miserable and eloquent at the suspicion ! I wish I 
 could remember all he said ! It was more in your line than 
 mine ! But he is a good, sensible fellow, with all his romantic 
 notions. He has a handsome fortune, independent of hia 
 father, left him by his grandfather, and we are to live in 
 Georgia part of the year only, and travel every summer. 
 Mother says his account of his prospects and so forth to 
 father was very satisfactory, but she has not got at all the par- 
 ticulars yet. Father is so worried about your sickness that 
 he cannot spare a thought for any thing or anybody ebe. 
 The light from that window hurts your eyes doesn't it ? I 
 will let down the shade." 
 
 But Sarah lay with her hand protecting her eyes, Vrhen 
 her sister resumed her position and narration. 
 
 " We are to be married in December. He begged hard 
 for an earlier day, but I was sure that I could not be ready 
 before then. As it is, we shall have to hurry when it comes 
 to the dresses, for, in order to get the latest fashions, we 
 must wait until the eleventh hour. Won't I ' astonish the
 
 100 THE EMPTY HEART; OK, 
 
 natives' down South ? I couldn't state this to Philip, you 
 know ; so I referred him to mother, who is to say, when he 
 asks her, that her preference would be to keep me just as 
 long as she possibly can. Mitre nous, my dear, our good 
 mamma has said truer things than this bit of sentiment 
 but n'importe I These embellishments are necessary to such 
 transactions." 
 
 Miss West's friendship or curiosity could not endure lon- 
 ger suspense, and the intelligence that she was below 
 checked the monologue. 
 
 " I will run up again whenever I can," promised Lucy, 
 by way of compensation for her abrupt departure, " and 
 keep up your spirits by telling you all that I can about our 
 concerns. But Philip is to take me to ride this afternoon. 
 I forbade him to come here before then, but I don't much 
 think that he can stay away. Don't be vexed if you don't 
 gee me again in some hours. Vic. and I are about to settle 
 our trousseaux. If you believe me, we have never been 
 able yet to decide upon the wedding-dresses !" 
 
 And she vanished, warbling delicious roulades from a 
 duet she had engaged to sing that evening with her betroth- 
 ed. She showed herself up-stairs again, when she was rea- 
 dy for her ride and the carriage at the door very fair, very 
 bright, and very happy. She was exquisitely dressed, and 
 called on her sister to admire her toilet and envy her her 
 escort. 
 
 Sarah listened to the cheerful exchange of cautions and 
 promises between her mother and Philip, at the door beneath 
 her open window, and to the rolling wheels that bore them 
 away. 
 
 Mrs. Hunt received none of her friends that day, being 
 busy " getting things to i-ights ;" and for a like reason she 
 absented herself from her child's sick-room, content with 
 sending uj; Jeannie, now and then, to inquire how she was
 
 HUSKS. 101 
 
 getting on. In the abject loneliness that oppressed her 
 when the first violence of passions had spent itself, Sarah 
 would have been relieved in some measure by the society of 
 this pet sister, the sole object upon earth, besides her father, 
 that had ever repaid her love with any thing like equal at 
 tachment. But the child shrank, like most others of her 
 age, from the quiet dark chamber of illness, and longed to 
 follow her mother through the house, in her tour of obser- 
 vation and renovation. Sarah detected her restlessness and 
 ill-concealed dislike of the confinement imposed upon her 
 by compliance with her humble petition, 
 
 " Please, Jeannie, stay a little while with your poor sis- 
 ter !" And her sensitive spirit turned upon itself, as a final 
 stroke of torture, the conviction that here, also, love and 
 care had been wasted. 
 
 " Go, then !" she said, rather roughly, as Jeannie wavered, 
 " and you need not come up again to-day. I know it is not 
 pleasant for you to be here. Tell mother I want nothing 
 but quiet." 
 
 " I have had a splendid drive !" said Lucy, rustling her 
 many flounces into the door at dusk* 
 
 The figure upon the bed made no response by motion or 
 word. 
 
 "I do believe she is asleep !" added the intruder, lowering 
 her voice. " I suppose she is tired and needs rest." And she 
 went out on tiptoe. 
 
 Sarah was awake a minute later, when her father came 
 in to see her. She smiled at him, as he " hoped sho was 
 - better," and asked whether she might not get up on the 
 morrow. Mr. Hunt thought not. The doctor's opinion 
 was that perfect repose might ward off the worse features 
 of the disease. She had better keep her bed for a couple 
 of days yet, even should she feel well enough to be about, 
 He sent up her dinner to her room with his own hands ; and
 
 102 THE EMPTY HEAET; OR, 
 
 when she learned this, she strove to do some feeble justice 
 to the viands, but without success. 
 
 Philip dined with the family that day by special appoint- 
 ment ; and, shortly after his arrival, Lucy again presented 
 herself in that small third-story bedroom. 
 
 " Choose ! which hand will you take ?" she cried, hiding 
 both behind her. 
 
 Sarah would make no selection ; and, after a little more 
 trifling, the alder sister brought into sight two elegant bou- 
 quets, and laid them beside the invalid. 
 
 " This is Philip's present ' a fraternal remembrance,' he 
 told me to say. Here is his card. Doesn't he write a love- 
 ly hand ? The other is from your admirer, Mr. Hammond. 
 What a sly puss you were to make such a catch as he is, 
 without dropping us a hint ! He is rather too sober for my 
 notions; but he is getting rich fast, they say. He left those 
 flowers at the door himself, and insisted upon seeing father 
 for a moment, to know exactly how you were. Cannot you 
 hurry up somewhat, and let us have a double wedding ? I 
 showed the bouquet to Philip, and told him of your con- 
 quest, and he was as much pleased at your prospects as I 
 was. Did you ever see such magnificent roses ? your beau 
 paid five dollars, at the lowest computation, for these flowers. 
 I congratulate you upon these signs of liberality !" 
 
 Sarah had heard only a portion of this speech. Her eyes 
 were fixed upon the card her sister had put into her hand : 
 " Will Miss Sarah accept this trifling token of regard from 
 one who is her stanch friend, and hopes, in time, to have a 
 nearer claim upon her esteem ?" 
 
 " Very neatly turned, is it -not ?" said Lucy, satisfiedly. 
 She had read it on her way up-stairs. " What shall I say to 
 him from you ?" 
 
 " Thank him, and explain that I am not able to write a 
 reply."
 
 HUSKS. 103 
 
 This meagre return of compliments assumed a tone both 
 grateful and sisterly as Lucy rehearsed it to the donor ol 
 the fragrant offering. The barest phrase of civility came 
 gracefully and meaningly from her tongue. Serene in mind 
 and countenance, she seated herself at the piano, and, as 
 Philip took his stand at her side, he wondered if the world 
 held another couple more entirely adapted each to the pe- 
 culiar soul-needs of the other, more perfectly happy in the 
 knowledge of mutual affection. Like the generality of the- 
 orists, your student of human nature is prone to grievous 
 error when he reduces his flawless system to practice. 
 
 In one respect, the two certainly harmonized well. Both 
 loved music; both sang finely, and their voices accorded 
 without a jarring note. 
 
 Mr. Hunt read the evening papers in Sarah's room ; turn 
 ing and folding them with great circumspection, lest their 
 rattling might annoy hei', and detract from her enjoyment 
 of the music. How could he guess the infatuation that 
 caused her to listen greedily to sounds, under whose potent 
 spell feeling was writhing and brain reeling? In every 
 pause between the songs there arose hi her memory two 
 lines of a. poem read long ago, when or where she knew 
 not: 
 
 " Seek not to soothe that proud, forsaken heart 
 "With strains whose sweetness maddens as they fall!" 
 
 The performers had just completed a duet, in which each 
 voice supported arid developed, while blending with the 
 other, when Lucy took up the prelude to a simpler lay ; re- 
 peating it twice over with skilful variations, as if she were, 
 meantime, carrying on a colloquy with her companion, that 
 delayed the vocal part. This was ended by Philip's raising 
 alone the burden of the plaintive German air Sarah remem- 
 bered so truly " The long, long, weary day."
 
 104, THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 As his voice, full and strong, with its indescribable ami 
 irresistible under-current of pathos flowing out here into 
 passionate melancholy swelled and floated through tho 
 quiet house, Sarah sat upright. 
 
 "Father! father!" she whispered, huskily, "I cannot 
 bear that! Shut the doors! all of them, or I shall go 
 mad !" 
 
 She was obeyed ; Mr. Hunt hurrying down to the par- 
 lors to silence the lovers, with the representation that Sarah 
 was too nervous to endure the excitement of music. For 
 the remainder of the evening, a profound stillness pervaded 
 the upper part of the mansion a silence that, to Sarah, 
 throbbed with the melody she had tried to hush ; and look 
 where she might, she gazed into that rainy, ghastly night 
 the pale, comfortless watcher, the shadowy type of her 
 deeper, more blighting sorrow.
 
 HUSKS. 105 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 FOR three days Philip Benson lingered near his beantifui 
 enslaver ; on the fourth, he carried a sad, yet trustful heart 
 upon his Southern journey. Sarah had not seen him once 
 since the evening of his coming. Through Lucy, she re- 
 ceived his adieux and wishes for her speedy recovery. On 
 the next day but one she left her room, and appeared again 
 in the family circle now complete in all its parts. 
 
 In that short season of bodily prostration, the work of 
 years had been wrought upon her inner life. Outwardly 
 there was h'ttle alteration save that effected by physical 
 weakness ; but in her views of existence and character, of 
 affections and motives, the doubter had become the skeptic ; 
 the dreamer the misanthrope. To the gentler and more 
 womanly aspirations that had for a season supplanted the 
 somewhat masculine tendencies of her mind and tastes had 
 succeeded a stoicism, like the frozen calm of a winter's day, 
 uniform as relentless. This was the surface that locked and 
 concealed the lower depths she had sworn should be forever 
 covered. Others could and did live without hearts. She 
 could thrive as well upon the husks and Sodom apples of 
 this world's goods as did they ; holding as Life's chief good, 
 complete and final subjugation of all genuine emotion, 
 which, at the best, was but the rough ore fit for nothing 
 until purged, refined, and polished in its glitter. She found 
 no other creed that suited her present desperate mood so 
 well as the most heartless code of the thorough worldling 
 the devotee to show, and fashion, and wealth. 
 5*
 
 106 THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 Such was her mother, whose domestic virtues were extol 
 led by all who knew her; such, behind her mask of tender 
 grace and amiability, the sister who had won, by these fac- 
 titious attractions, the heart for which Sarah would have 
 perilled life, sacrificed ease and inclination, bowed her proud 
 spirit to the estate of bond-servant to his every caprice, 
 become the willing slave to his tyrannical behest. Yet 
 Philip Benson was a professed judge of character ; a man 
 of sense, education, and experience, and, knowing both girls 
 as he did, he had made his choice ; set the stamp of his 
 approval upon the shining, rather than the solid metal. 
 The world, as its young would-be disciple believed she had 
 at length learned, was made up of two classes : those who 
 floated, and those who sank. To the latter she determined 
 that she would not belong. 
 
 These and kindred thoughts were rife in her mind, and 
 stirring up many a spring of gall within her bosom, one 
 morning as she lay back in an arm-chair in the sitting-room, 
 listening with secret scorn to the prattle of the pair of be- 
 trothed maidens Lucy and her friend. Lucy's engagement- 
 ring was a diamond, or, rather, a modest cluster of these 
 precious stones, whose extreme beauty did not strike the 
 casual eye with the startling effect of Victoria's more showy 
 gage d' amour. This apparent difference in the value of the 
 two was the source of many discussions and considerable 
 heart-burning, disguised, of course, and threatened in time 
 to produce a decided coolness between the attached wearers 
 of the articles under debate. 
 
 On this particular day, Victoria, after some adroit skir- 
 mishing, brought out as a " poser " the fact that, to lay the 
 question to rest without more ado, she had, since their last 
 interview, been to Tiffany's, and had her ring valued. 
 Lucy's face was all aglow as her soul-sister named the price 
 of her treasure. She clapped her hands joyously.
 
 HUSKS." 101 
 
 * Isn't .hat the joke of the season, mother ?" as that 
 personag * entered. " Don't you think that Vic. was as 
 cunning as we were? She carried her ring to Tiffany's 
 yesterday, too. Wouldn't it have been too funny if we had 
 met there ? Mine came from there, they said, and it cost a 
 cool fifty dollars more than yours did, dear !" 
 
 Victoria flushed hotly ; but further controversy being 
 useless and dangerous to her, she acquiesced with assumed 
 carelessness in Lucy's proposal, that, since both were suited, 
 the rival brilliants should not be again referred to as a dis- 
 puted matter. They accordingly turned to the safer and 
 endless conferences upon the trousseaux, whose purchase 
 must be commenced immediately. 
 
 Their incomplete lists were produced, compared, and 
 lengthened Mrs. Hunt suggesting and amending; Sarah 
 surveying the busy group with the same intense disdain she 
 had experienced throughout the conversation. 
 
 " Oh, I forgot to tell you ! Margaret Hauton called on me 
 yesterday!" exclaimed Victoria. "Did she come here, 
 too ?" 
 
 "Yes; but we were out. What did she say?" queried 
 Lucy, breathlessly. 
 
 " Why, the stupid creature never alluded to my engage- 
 ment ; and when I mentioned yours, pretended not to have 
 heard of it before. I took care she should not go away as 
 ignorant on the subject as she had come, and I know it 
 was wicked in me, but she deserved it all the time I wa 
 praising your Goldfinch, and telling how handsome and lib- 
 eral he was, I sat looking down at my new ring, slipping it 
 up and down my finger, as if I were not thinking of it, but 
 of the giver. She could not help seeing it, and, to save hex 
 life, she could not keep from changing countenance." 
 
 " Good !" said Lucy. " Do tell me how she is looking 
 now ?"
 
 108 THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 " Common enough ! She had on that everlasting lilao 
 silk, with the embroidered flounces, although the style is 
 as old as the hills and that black lace mantle, which, hap- 
 pening to be real, she never leaves off until near Christmas. 
 But her hat ! black and corn-color. Think of it ! corn-color 
 against her saffron skin! When I pretend to lead society, 
 I hope to dress decently. But I had my revenge for her 
 supercilious airs. Mr. Bond George called in the after- 
 noon to take me to ride. I told you of the handsome span 
 of fast horses he has been buying. Well ! we concluded 
 to tiy the Bloomingdale road, and just as we were sailing 
 along, like the wind, whom should we overtake but my 
 Lady Hauton, lounging in her lazy way (she thinks it aristo- 
 cratic !) on the back seat of her father's heavy, clumsy 
 barouche not a soul in it but her mother and herself. 
 Didn't I bow graciously to her as we flew by ! and again, as 
 we met them creeping along, when we were coming back? 
 I wouldn't have missed the chance of mortifying her for a 
 thousand dollars." 
 
 Lucy laughed, with no sign of disapprobation at the 
 coarse, vindictive spirit displayed in this petty triumph of a 
 small soul. 
 
 " How many evening-dresses have you put down on your 
 paper, Vic. ?" 
 
 "Half a dozen only. I will get others as I need them. 
 The styles in these change so often that I do not care to 
 have too many at a time." 
 
 "There you will have the advantage of me," said Lucy, 
 Dgenuously. " It will not be so easy a matter to replenish 
 my stock of wearable dresses. I wish I had asked Philip 
 about the Savannah stores. I wonder if he knows any 
 thing about them ?" 
 
 " He ought to being such a connoisseur in ladies' 
 dress. I declare I have been absolutely afraid of him since
 
 HUSKS. 109 
 
 I heard him say that he considered a lady's apparel a 
 criterion of her character." 
 
 "He has exquisite taste!" said Lucy, with pardonable 
 pride in her lover. " It is a positive pleasure to dress for 
 him. He sees and appreciates every thing that I could 
 wish to have him notice. He has often described to me 
 what I wore, and how I looked and acted the evening he 
 fell in love. How little we can guess what is before us ! I 
 did not care to go to the hop that night, for Mr. Finch was 
 to wait on me, and he was so stupid, you know, after 
 we discovered that it was a mistake about his being rich. 
 I think I see him now, with his red face and short neck 1 
 Oh dear ! the fun we had over that poor man ! I told you 
 didn't I, Sarah that we named him Bullfinch, because he 
 looked so much like one ? When Phil, came we called him 
 Goldfinch, and the two went by these names among us 
 girls. The Bullfinch heard of it, and he was ridiculously 
 angry ! So I put on a white tarlatan, that one with the 
 double jupe, you know, Vic., festooned with white moss 
 rose-buds, and I had nothing but a tea-rose in my hair. I 
 danced once with the Bullfinch one of those solemn 
 quadrilles that are only fit for grandmothers and vowed 
 to myself that I would not stand up again, except for a 
 Polka or the Lancers. While I was sitting down by the 
 window, saying ' Yes' and 'No,' when Bullfinch spoke, Mr. 
 Newman introduced 'Mr. Benson' to 'Miss Hunt,' and the 
 work was done !" 
 
 "No more waltzing, then!" was Victoria's slyly mali- 
 cious sequel. 
 
 " I did not care so much for that as I thought I should !" 
 replied easy-tempered Lu'cy. "You cannot find a man who 
 has not some drawback. Before I had a chance for another 
 round, mother there managed to telegraph me that my 
 fresh acquaintance was worth catching. She had gotten
 
 110 THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 his whole story out of Mrs. Newman. He let me know 
 pretty soon, that he had some queer scruples about fancy 
 dances, and I thought it best to humor him for one evening, 
 or until I should ascertain whether he was really ' taken' or 
 not. I have never repented my self-denial, although I grant 
 that it cost me a struggle to give up ' the German.' " 
 
 " George lets me waltz to my heart's content," said Vic- 
 toria. " He is the very soul of indulgence. As to laces 
 I have not a thing fit to wear. I must get every thing new. 
 I am glad of it ! I enjoy shopping for them. If I have a 
 passion, it is for laces !" 
 
 A sneer curled Sarah's lip, and Victoria, happening to 
 glance that way, could not mistake its application, whatever 
 she might surmise as to its origin. 
 
 " I suppose you despise us as a couple of love-sick girls, 
 Sarah ?" she said, with a simper designed to be sentimental, 
 whereas it was spiteful instead. 
 
 " I think love the least dangerous of your complaints," 
 was the rejoinder. 
 
 " What do you mean ?" 
 
 " Just what I said !" 
 
 " She means that people do not die of love in these days," 
 exclaimed Lucy, whose pleasure-loving nature always shud- 
 dered at the idea of altercation in her presence ; her sensa- 
 tions, during the occasional sparrings of her sister and her 
 friend, bearing a strong resemblance to those of an innocent 
 white rabbit, into whose burrow a couple of belligerent 
 hedgehogs have forced their way. 
 
 " You will understand us better one day, when your turn. 
 comes," said Victoria, with magnanimous condescension. " I 
 shall remind you then of your good opinion of us." 
 
 " You may." 
 
 "I would give any thing to have you engaged, just to see 
 how you vv'ould behave. Would not you, Lucy ?"
 
 HUSKS. 113 
 
 " Yes ; if she were likely to do as well as we are doing. 
 Philip says that you have many fine qualities, Sarah. He 
 quite admires y -u." 
 
 The complacent betrothed had none but the most amiable 
 intentions in making this patronizing speech ; therefore, the 
 angry blood that surged over her sister's face at hearing it 
 wculd have been to her but the blush of gratified vanity, 
 had not the sparkle of her eye and the contemptuous con 
 tortion of her mouth undeceived her. 
 
 " Indeed he did say so !" she hastened to repeat. " And 
 he was in earnest ! He said something else which I don't 
 mind telling, now that he belongs to me fast and sure. He 
 said that he sat up until twelve o'clock one night after you 
 had been out boating, deliberating whether he should be 
 smitten with you or not. There !" 
 
 The color retreated as quickly as it had come. But for 
 the "consciousness of Victoria's malicious scrutiny, Sarah 
 could not have summoned strength to utter a word. 
 
 '"An equivocal compliment, I must say !" she retorted, 
 sarcastically. " Your gallant Georgian's confessions must 
 have been ample and minute indeed, if they comprised such 
 distant approaches to love affairs as the one you honor me 
 by mentioning. I do not think that I have ever heard of 
 another case where a gentleman considered it necessary to 
 enumerate to his fiancee, not merely the ladies he had loved, 
 but those whom he had not !" She arose and left the room. 
 
 Poor Lucy, rebuffed and overwhelmed, caught her as- 
 tonished breath with a sigh. " Can anybody tell me what 
 I have done now to fret Sarah ? She is so cross since she 
 was sick !" 
 
 "And before, too!" mutely added Victoria's shrug and 
 lifted eyebrows. 
 
 " We must bear with her, my dear !" said the prudent 
 mother. u Her nerves are affected, the doctor says."
 
 THE EMPTY HEART; OB, 
 
 made random pencillings upon the important 
 list her thoughts in fast pursuit of a notion that had just 
 struck her. She was neither witty nor intelligent ; but she 
 possessed some natural shrewdness and a great deal more 
 acquired cunning. She detested Sarah Hunt, and the pros- 
 pect of obtaining an engine that should humble her arro- 
 gant spirit was .scarcely less tempting than her own chance 
 of effecting an advantageous matrimonial settlement. 
 
 While she was engaged in defining her suspicion to her- 
 self, and concerting measures for gathering information with 
 regard to it, Mrs. Hunt went oni on some household errand, 
 and Lucy was obliged to descend to the parlor to see callers. 
 " Don't go until I come back, Vic. It is the Dunhams, 
 and they never stay long," she said, at quitting her asso- 
 ciate. 
 
 " Oh, I always make myself at home here, you know, my 
 dear !" was the reply. 
 
 Jeannie was sitting on a cushion near the chair Sarah had 
 occupied, dressing her doll. 
 
 " It won't fit!" she cried, fretfully, snatching off a velvet 
 
 basque she had been endeavoring to adjust to the lay-figure. 
 
 "Bring it to me! I can fix it!" offered Victoria, win- 
 
 ningly. " It's too tight just here, you see. I will rip open 
 
 the seam and alter it. Who makes your dolly's clothes ?" 
 
 She was well aware that but one member of the family 
 ever had leisure to bestow upon such follies ; but it suited 
 her plan for Jeannie to introduce her name. 
 "Sister Sarah." 
 
 " This is a pretty Basque. When did she make it ?" 
 " Yesterday." 
 
 "Oh! I thought perhaps she did it while you were in 
 the country, and that the doll had fattened as much as yoK 
 did there." 
 
 Jeannit laughed heartily.
 
 HUSKS. 113 
 
 " You had a nice time there, I suppose ?" pursued Vic- 
 toria. 
 
 " I guess we did !" Her eyes danced at the recollection. 
 " A splendid time ! I wish we lived at Aunt Sarah's ! There 
 isn't room for me to move in this narrow house." 
 
 " Mr. Benson was there a day or two, was he not ?" 
 
 " Yes, ma'am a great many days ! He took us all 
 around the country in Uncle Nathan's carriage. I love him 
 very dearly !" 
 
 " Did you ever go sailing with him ?" 
 
 " Every evening, when it was clear, in a pretty row-boat. 
 He used to take his guitar along, and sing for us. He sings 
 beautifully ! Did you ever hear him ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes ! Did your sister always go boating with you ?" 
 
 The spy, with all her hardihood, lowered her voice, and 
 felt her face warm as she put this leading question. 
 
 " Yes, ma'am, always. Mr. Benson would not have gone 
 without her, I guess." 
 
 " Why do you guess so ?" 
 
 The little girl smiled knowingly. " Because you won't 
 tell, will you ?" 
 
 " Why no ! Of course I will not." 
 
 " Charley said it was a secret, and that I mustn't say 
 any thing to sister or Mr. Benson about it, for they would 
 be angry." 
 
 "Who is Charley?" 
 
 " Don't you know ? He is Aunt Sarah's son. He is 
 deaf and dumb ; but he showed me how to spell on my 
 fingers. He is a nice boy " 
 
 " Yes ; but what was the secret ?" 
 
 "He said that Mr. Benson cousin Phil. I call him when I 
 am talking to him was sister's beau ; and he would take 
 me off with him when we went to drive or walk, because, 
 you know, they might not like to have me hear what they
 
 114 THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 were talking about. They used to talk, and talk, and talk! 
 arid sister had a great deal more to say, and looked prettier 
 than she does at home. I will tell you something else, if 
 you won't ever let anybody know it. I never told Aunt 
 Sarah even, only Charley. Sister cried ever so long the 
 night after Cousin Phil, went away. She woke me up sob- 
 bing ; but I made believe that I was asleep ; and in the 
 morning her pillow was right wet. Charley said that all 
 ladies that he had read about in his books did so when their 
 oeaux left them." 
 
 " See here, my little lady !" said the dissembler, with a 
 startling change of tone. " You are altogether mistaken 
 you and Charley both ! Mr. Benson is going to marry your 
 sister Lucy, and never was a beau of Sarah's. Be very 
 careful not to talk about Charley's wicked story to your 
 father, or mother, or sisters, for they would be very much 
 displeased, and maybe punish you for repeating such fibs. 
 Little girls ought never to hear or know any thing about 
 courting or beaux it's naughty ! I won't tell on you, if 
 you will promise never to do so again. I am shocked at 
 you ! Now take your dolly and go !" 
 
 The frightened child encountered Lucy at the door. Miss 
 West had calculated her time to a minute. Her eyes swim- 
 ming in tears, her features convulsed with the effort to keep 
 back sob and outcry, Jeanuie started up to her attic play- 
 room. Sarah's door was ajar, and engaged as she was with 
 thoughts of her own troubles and insults, she could not but 
 remark the expression of her darling's lace, in the momen- 
 tary glimpse she had as it passed. 
 
 "Jeannie! comeback!" she called. 
 
 The child hesitated, half way up the next flight. Sarah 
 repeated the summons, and seeing that it was not obeyed, 
 went up and took the rebel by the hand. 
 
 " What is the matter with you ?"
 
 TITTSKS. . 115 
 
 A reddening and distortion of visage, and no reply. Hei 
 sister led her back to her chamber, shut the door, and put 
 her arms around her. 
 
 " Tell me what ails you, dear !" 
 
 Jeannie fell upon her comforter's neck the repressed 
 torrent breaking through all restraint. " Oh, sister, I can' 
 help crying ! Miss Vic. West has been scolding me !" 
 
 " Scolding you ! She ! I will go down and speak to her 
 this instant ! How dared she ?" 
 
 " No, no ! please don't ! She told me not to say any 
 thing to you about it." 
 
 " The contemptible coward !" said Sarah, between her 
 teeth. " How came you to have any thing to do with 
 her?"' 
 
 "Mother" and sister Lucy went down-stairs, and she said 
 she would alter my doll's basque, and and and" a fresh 
 burst of lamentation. 
 
 " There, that will do, pet ! I see that she only made it 
 worse!" soothed Sarah, believing that, in the unfinished 
 state of dolly's wardrobe, she had discovered the root of 
 the trouble. " Never mind, dear ! I will set all that to 
 rights directly. Now wipe your eyes, and let me tell you 
 something. This afternoon father is to take me to ride, and 
 ,you shall go, too. As for Miss Victoria, we will let her pass, 
 and keep out of her way, hereafter." 
 
 Secretly, she was very angry far more so than she was 
 willing to have the child suspect. As the patient fingers 
 repaired the eifects of the original bad fit, and Miss West's 
 meddling, Jeannie stood by, thankful and interested, yet 
 ashamed to look her wronged sister in the eyes. Not that 
 she had the remotest conception of the mischief that might 
 grow out of her imprudent disclosures ; but she had broken 
 faith with Charley, been accused of tattling and indelicacy, 
 and warned too stringently against repeating the offence to
 
 116 THE EMPTY IIEAiTJ OK, 
 
 suffer her to relieve her conscience by a full confession to 
 the being she most loved and honored. 
 
 At four o'clock Sarah and her charge were ready, accord- 
 ing to Mi*. Hunt's appointment. The carriage was likewise 
 punctual ; but from it stepped, not the parent of the expect- 
 ant girls, but a younger and taller man in short, Mr. Hunt's 
 particular favorite Lewis Hammond. Jeannie, who had 
 stationed herself at an upper window to watch for her 
 father's appearance, was still exclaiming over this disap- 
 pointment, and wondering why " Mr. Hammond must call 
 just now to keep sister at home," when the footman brought 
 up a note to Sarah. 
 
 It was from Mr. Hunt, explaining the cause of his un- 
 looked-for detention at the bank, and stating that Mr.' Hani' 
 mond, whom he had met earlier in the day, and acquainted 
 with his design of giving his daughter this ride, happened 
 to drop in, and seeing him engaged with business, had asked 
 leave to officiate as his substitute in the proposed airing. 
 He urged Sarah to take Jeannie along, and not hesitate 
 to accept Mr. Hammond's polite attendance, adding, in 
 phrase brief, but sincere, how lightly he should esteem his 
 hour of extra labor, if he knew that she was not a sufferer 
 by it. 
 
 Sarah passed the note to her mother, and drew her shawl 
 about her shoulders. 
 
 " Of course you'll go !" said Mrs. Hunt, radiant with 
 gratification. " It is perfectly proper, and Mr. Hammond is 
 very kind, I'm sure." 
 
 She was hurrying towards the door to convey in person 
 her thanks for his gallantry, when Sarah spoke firmly and 
 very coolly : 
 
 " I will say whatever is necessary to Mr. Hammond, if 
 you please, mother. I shall go because father wishes it, and 
 for no other reason. Come, Jeannie !"
 
 HUSKS. 117 
 
 " Won't she be in your way ?" asked Mrs. Hunt, awed, 
 but not extinguished. 
 
 " No, madam." 
 
 Sarah suffered Mr. Hammond to place her in the carriage; 
 and himself opposite to her ; and keeping before her mind 
 carefully the fact that he was her father's friend, perhaps 
 the savior of his life, she unbent, as much as she could, 
 from her distant, ungracious bearing, to sustain her part of 
 the conversation. She must have been purblind not to see 
 through her mother's wishes, and manoeuvres for their ac- 
 complishment ; but to these views she was persuaded that 
 Mr. Hammond was no party. She saw in him a sedate, 
 rather reserved gentleman of thirty-two or three, who had 
 passed the heyday of youthful loves and joys ; sensible and 
 cultivated to an uncommon degree for a man of business 
 for such he emphatically was. 
 
 A poor boy in the beginning, he had fortunately attracted 
 the regard of a thriving New York merchant, and retained 
 that favor through the years that had elevated him from the 
 lowest clerkship to a partnership in the now opulent firm. 
 For probity and punctuality no man in the city had a higher 
 reputation ; but his virtues were of that quiet nature which, 
 while they inevitably retain regard once won, are slow to 
 gain admiration. To matrimonial speculators, as in financial 
 circles, he was known as a " safe chance," and many a pru- 
 dent mamma on his list of acquaintances would have rejoiced 
 had he selected her daughter as mistress of his heart and 
 fortune. Whether he was aware of this or not could not 
 have been determined by his modest, but dignified deport 
 ment. He did not avoid company ; went whither he was 
 invited, and, when there, comported himself like a conscien 
 tious member of society, talking, dancing, or listening, with 
 as due regard to law and order as he manifested in his daily 
 business life. Fast girls called him " awfully matter-of-fact,"
 
 118 THE EMPTY HEART; OB, 
 
 and " tei-ribly sensible ;" fast youths of the other sex put 
 him down among the " old fogies," and wondered what he 
 did with his money. " Could it be possible that he saved 
 it !" He was intimate nowhere except in the household of 
 his whilom employer and present partner, whose daughters 
 were all married and settled in houses of their own. If he 
 had ever cared to look twice at the same lady, the watchful 
 world had not yet laid hold of this marvellous departure 
 from his fixed habits. 
 
 His intercourse with Mr. Hunt's family was, as we know, 
 purely accidental in its commencement, and in its earlier 
 stages might have been induced by humanity or friendship 
 for the sick father. In Sarah's brain there had never arisen 
 a suspicion of any ulterior motive in the pointed attentions 
 directed of late to herself. Before Lucy's return, the care 
 of her invalid parent and her day-dreams had engrossed 
 heart and thought to an extent that precluded much inquiry 
 into other themes. Since that memorable night, inward 
 torture had abstracted her mind still more from outward 
 impressions. 
 
 This afternoon she talked calmly and indifferently to Mr. 
 Hammond, without an idea that he made any greater 
 effort to please her. To Dannie she was tender beyond her 
 usual showing, in remembrance of the wrong done the sen 
 sitive child in the forenoon. Mr. Hammond emulated hei 
 in kindness, to the third member of their party; and in the 
 course of their ride, raised himself unwittingly to the rank 
 of rivalship with " Cousin Philip," her model gentleman. 
 
 Mr. Hunt came out to assist his daughter to alight, upon 
 their return. There was a heartiness in his acknowledg- 
 ment of his deputy's politeness, and invitation to enter the 
 house and pass the evening with them, which Sarah had 
 seldom heard him employ towards any visitor. Mr. Ham- 
 mond may have remarked it likewise, for his decliuature
 
 HUSKS. 119 
 
 was evidently against his inclination, and coupled with a 
 promise to call at an early day. His visits were not alto- 
 gether so agreeable as formerly, for he was received in the 
 spacious parlors on a footing with other callers, and in the 
 presence of several members of the family ; still he came 
 repeatedly, with pretext and without, until his sentiments 
 and design were a secret to no one except their object. 
 
 Wrapped in the sad thoughts that isolated her from the 
 rest of the world, even while she made a part of its show, 
 Sarah omitted to mark many things that should have been 
 significant signs of under-currents, and tokens of important 
 issues to her and those about her. Lucy had ceased to 
 harp perpetually upon her lover's perfections and idolatrous 
 flattery to herself, and while the wedding arrangements 
 went vigorously forward, the disengaged sister was rarely 
 annoyed by references to her taste and demands for her 
 sympathy. There had never existed much congeniality 
 between the two, and their common ground was now ex- 
 ceedingly narrow. Lucy was gentle and pleasant, peace- 
 fully egotistic as ever, and Sarah understood her too well 
 to expect active affection or disinterestedness. The only 
 part of her behavior to herself to which she took mental 
 exception was a certain pitying forbearance, a compassionate 
 leniency with respect to her faults and foibles, that had 
 grown upon her of late. Once or twice the younger sister 
 had become so restive under this gratuitous charity as to 
 reply sharply to the whey-like speeches of the mild elder, 
 and, without any appearance of .wounded feeling, yet with 
 not a word of apology or reason for so doing, Lucy had 
 left the apartment, and never hinted at the circumstance 
 afterwards. 
 
 Lucy was certainly the soul, the very cream of amiabili- 
 ty. It was unaccountable to her admirers and they in- 
 cluded most of her associates that Lewis Hammond, with
 
 120 THE EMPTY HEART; OK, 
 
 his peculiar habits and tastes, should prefer that severe- 
 looking, strong-minded Sarah. But be it remembered that 
 he had learned this love under far different influences ; in 
 circumstances wholly unlike those in which he now beheld 
 its object. His respect for unobtrusive intent and feeling ; 
 his longing for a home which should be the abode of sacred 
 domestic virtues ; and the sweet peace that had fled from the 
 habitations frequented only by the frivolous, heartless, and 
 vain these found in the sick-room of the father, and the 
 affectionate fidelity of the daughter, something so like the 
 embodiment of his fancy of earthly happiness, that he ac- 
 cepted as a benignant fate the accident which had admitted 
 him to the arcana of their private life. Sarah's temporary 
 illness had taught him the meaning of his dreams, by 
 seeming to p^ril the chances of their fulfilment ; and from 
 that hour he strove patiently and sedulously, as it was hia 
 habit, to seek all great ends for the acquisition of the heart 
 whose depth he, perhaps, of ah 1 who knew her, best under- 
 stood. 
 
 The most impatient person of those directly or indirect- 
 ly concerned in the progress of this wooing was Mrs. Hunt. 
 Her husband, with unwonted firmness, had forbidden that 
 any one of the household should speak a word in raillery 
 or otherwise to Sarah touching Mr. Hammond's intentions. 
 " However earnestly I may desire his success," he said to 
 his wife " and there is no man living whom I would rather 
 call ' son' I would not influence her by the weight of a 
 pingle syllable. Hers is the happiness or the misery of a life 
 with her husband whomsoever she may choose, and hers 
 shall be the entire choice. If she can love and marry Lewis 
 Hammond, I shall be gratified ; if not, she shall never 
 guess at my disappointment." 
 
 " La, Mr. H. ! you are as foolish and sentimental as the 
 girl herself ! For my part, I ain't such a saint, and I do say,
 
 121 
 
 that if Sarah Hunt allows such a catch as this to slip 
 through her fingers, she shall hear a piece of my mind 1" 
 
 "I insist," said Mr. Hunt, with immovable resolution, 
 " that Sarah shall be allowed to fullow the guidance of her 
 own will in this matter. It is not often that I interfere 
 with your plans; but in this one instance I must be 
 obeyed !" 
 
 With which astounding declaration of equal rights, if not 
 of sovereignty, he left his consort to her reflections. 
 
 Ignorant of the delicate watchfulness maintained over her 
 by this best of friends, Sarah walked on her beclouded way 
 without hope, without one anticipation of any future dis- 
 similar to her present, until awakened with a shock by a 
 formal declaration of love from Lewis Hammond. 
 6
 
 122 THE EMPTY HEART! OK, 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 IT was at the close of an evening party which both the 
 Hunts attended, and where Mr. Hammond's devotion was 
 as marked as any thing so modest could be, that Sarah felt 
 him slip an envelope into her hand, as he put her into the 
 carriage. Surprised as she was at the singularity of the 
 occurrence, and disposed to take offence at the familiarity 
 it implied, she had yet the presence of mind to conceal 
 the missive from Lucy, and talk about other things, until 
 they were set down at home. In the privacy of her 
 chamber, she broke the seal and read her first love-letter. 
 
 It was a characteristic composition. If the strong han 
 had trembled above the lines, the clear, clerkly penman- 
 ship did not witness to the weakness. Nor was there any 
 thing in the subject-matter that did not appear to Sarah as 
 business-like and unimpassioned. It was a frank and manly 
 avowal of attachment for her ; a compliment implied, rather 
 than broadly stated, to her virtues; the traits that had 
 gained his esteem, then his love a deprecatory sentence as 
 to his ability to deserve the treasure he dared to ask and 
 then the question I in plain black and white, unequivocal to 
 bluntness, simple and direct to curtness. 
 
 " As he would ask the price of a bale of goods !" burst 
 forth Sarah, indignant, as she threw the paper on the floor, 
 and buried her burning face in her hands. 
 
 "That there comes sometimes a glory to the Present, 
 beside which the hues of Past and Future fade and are
 
 123 
 
 forgotten, I must and will believe. Such, it seems to me, 
 must be the rapture of acknowledged and reciprocal affec- 
 tion !" This was the echo memory repeated to her soul. 
 She saw again the gently gliding river, with its waves of 
 crimson and gold ; breathed the pure fragrance of the sum- 
 mer evening ; floated on, towards the sunset, with the loved 
 voice in her ear ; the dawn of a strange and beautiful life, 
 shedding blissful calm throughout her being. 
 
 And from this review, dangerous as it was, for one fleet- 
 ing instant, sweet, she returned to the proposal that had 
 amazed and angered her. Lewis's undemonstrative exterior 
 had misled her, as it did most persons, in the estimate ot 
 his inner nature. Kind, she was compelled to confess that 
 he was, in the remembrance of his goodness to her father; 
 his demeanor was always gentlemanly, and she had caught 
 here and there rumors of his generosity to the needy that 
 prevented a suspicion of sordidness. No doubt he was very 
 well in his way ; but he wanted to marry her ! "With the 
 intensity of her fiery spirit, her will arose against the pre- 
 sumptuous request. It was the natural recoil of the woman 
 who already loves, at the suggestion of a union with anoth- 
 er than the man of her choice ; the spontaneous outspeaking 
 of a heart whose allegiance vows have been pledged and 
 cannot be nullified. But she would not see this. Upon 
 the unfortunate letter and its writer descended the storm 
 of passionate repugnance aroused by its contents. With 
 the reaction of excited feeling came tears a plentiful show- 
 er that relaxed the overwrought nerves, until they were 
 ready to receive the benediction of sleep. 
 Lewis had not asked a written or verbal reply. 
 
 " I will call to take you to drive to-morrow afternoon," 
 he wrote. " Should ydur decision upon the question I have 
 proposed be favorable, your consent to accompany me in
 
 124 THE EMPTY HE ART J OR, 
 
 my ride will be understood as a signal that you have 
 accepted my graver suit. If your conclusion is adverse to 
 ray hopes, you can signify the same to me in a letter, to be 
 handed me when I ask for you. This course will spare us 
 both embarrassment perhaps pain. In any event, be as- 
 sured that you will ever have a firm friend in 
 " Yours truly, 
 
 "LEWIS HAMMO:NT>." 
 
 Sarah's lip curled as she reperused this clause of the letter 
 on the following morning. 
 
 " It is a comfort to know that I have not to answer for 
 the sin of breaking my ardent suitor's heart !" she said, as 
 she drew towards her the sheet upon which she was to 
 indite her refusal. It was brief and courteous freezing in 
 its punctilious civility, and prepared without a pang, or a 
 solitary misgiving that its reception would not be philosoph- 
 ically calm. Her design was to intrust it to the footman, 
 to be delivered when Mr. Hammond called ; and as the 
 hour approached at which the expectant was to present 
 himself, she took the note from the desk, and started down- 
 stairs with it. 
 
 The sitting-room door was open, and, aware that Victoria 
 West was in there with Lucy, Sarah trod very softly as she 
 neared it. Her own name arrested her as she was going 
 by. She stopped involuntarily. 
 
 " I thought Sarah a girl of better regulated mind," said 
 Victoria, in a tone of censorious pity. " Of course she 
 suffers ! It is the inevitable consequence of an unrequited 
 attachment. Such miserable folly, such unpardonable weak- 
 ness brings its punishment with it. But my sympathies 
 are all yours, my dearest. I only wish you were not so 
 sensitive. You are not to blame for her blind mistake." 
 
 " I cannot help it !" said Lucy, plaintively. " It seems so
 
 H TJ S K 8 . 125 
 
 ad that I should be made the means of depriving her of 
 happiness. I wish I had never known that she was attached 
 to poor Philip. I can't tell you how awkward I feel when 
 any allusion is made in her hearing to the dear fellow, or to 
 our marriage." 
 
 " I meant it for the best, dear, in telling you of my dis- 
 covery," replied Victoria, slightly hurt. 
 
 " I know that, my dear creature ! And it is well that I 
 should not be kept in the dark as to the state of her affec- 
 tions. I only hope that Philip never penetrated her secret. 
 I should die of mortification for her, if he were to find it out. 
 It is a lamentable affair and I am sure that he is not in 
 fault. What did you say that you gave for that set of 
 handkerchiefs you showed me yesterday ?" 
 
 " The cheapest things you ever saw ! I got them at 
 Stewart's, and they averaged six dollars apiece! As to Mr. 
 Benson, I trust, with you, that he is as unsuspecting as he 
 seems; but he has remarkable discernment, you know. 
 What I could not help seeing, before I had any other proof 
 than her behavior, is not likely to have escaped him." 
 
 Half an hour later the twain were disturbed in their con- 
 fidences by the sound of wheels stopping before the house, 
 followed by a ring at the door. Victoria, ever on the alert, 
 peeped, with feline caution and curiosity, around the edge 
 of the curtain. 
 
 " What is going to happen ? Look, Lucy ! Mr. Ham- 
 mond in a handsome light carriage, and driving a lovely 
 pair of horses! I never thought to see him go in suet 
 style. How well he looks ! Take care ! he will see you !" 
 
 Both dodged as he glanced at the upper windows ; but 
 resumed their look-out in time to see the light that waa 
 kindled in his face when Sarah emerged from the front door. 
 He was at her side in a second, to lead her down the steps, 
 and his manner in this movement,' and in assisting her into
 
 126 THE EMPTY HEART; OK, 
 
 the carriage, the more striking in one generally so self-con- 
 tained and deliberate, inspired the pair of initiated observers 
 with the same conviction. As the spirited horses disap 
 peared into the Avenue, the friends drew back from their 
 loop-hole, and stared each other in the eyes, with the simul- 
 taneous exclamation " They are engaged !" 
 
 They were engaged ! Lewis felt it with a glad bound of 
 the heart but a minute before sickening in deadly suspense : 
 felt, as he seated himself by her side, that the sorrows of a 
 lonely and struggling youth, the years of manhood's isola- 
 tion and unsatisfied longings, were swept from memory by 
 this hour of abundant, unalloyed happiness. 
 
 And Sarah felt it 1 As her hand touched his, at their 
 meeting upon the steps, a chill ran through her frame that 
 told the consummation of the sacrifice which was to atone 
 for past folly ; to silence, and brand as a lying rumor, the 
 fearful tale that bruited abroad the revelation of that weak- 
 ness. In her mad horror at the knowledge of its' discovery, 
 she had rushed upon this alternative. Better an estate of 
 honorable misery, than to live on, solitary, disgraced, con- 
 demned and pitied by her meanest foe ! Now that the irre- 
 versible step was taken, she experienced no sharp regret, 
 no wild impulse of retreat, "but a gradual sinking of spirit 
 into hopeless apathy. 
 
 Her veil concealed her dull eyes and stolid features, and 
 to Lewis's happy mood there was nothing surprising or dis- 
 couraging in her disposition to silence. With a tact for 
 which she had not given him credit, and did .not now value 
 aright, he refrained from any direct reference to their altered 
 relation until they were returning homeward. Then chang- 
 ing his tone of pleasant chat for one of deeper meaning, he 
 said : 
 
 "I have dared to hope much every thing from your 
 consent to become my companion for this afternoon. Be-
 
 H'JSKS. 127 
 
 fore I ventured to address you directly, I had a long and 
 frank conversation with your father." 
 
 " What did he say ?" asked Sarah, turning towards him 
 for the first time. 
 
 " He referred me to you for my answer, which, he said, 
 must be final and positive, since he would never attempt to 
 influence your choice. In the event of an affirmative reply 
 from you, he promised that his sanction should not be with 
 held." 
 
 Sarah was silent. She comprehended fully her father's 
 warm interest in his friend's suit, which the speaker was too 
 diffident to imply, and how this expression of his wishes set 
 the seal upon her fate. 
 
 " We are poor and proud ! Mr. Hammond is rich and 
 seeks to marry me !" was her bitter thought. " It is a fine 
 bargain in the eyes of both my parents. It would be high 
 treason in me to dispute their will. Mr. Hammond has 
 conceived the notion that I am a useful domestic character, 
 a good housekeeper and nurse, and he is willing to bid lib- 
 erally for my services. It is all arranged between them ! 
 Mine is a passive part, to copy Lucy's sweet, submissive 
 ways for a season, for fear of frightening away the game, 
 afterwards to attend to my business, while he looks after 
 his. I have chosen my lot, and I will abide by it !" 
 
 " Have I your permission to call this evening and inform 
 your father of my success may I say of our engagement ?" 
 asked Lewis. 
 
 " It is best, I suppose, to call things by their right names,' ; 
 replied Sarah, in a cold voice, that was to him only coy. He 
 smiled, and was about to speak, when she resumed : " Since 
 we are virtually engaged" she caught her breath as she 
 brought out the word " I see no reason why we should 
 hesitate to announce it to those whose right it is to know 
 it."
 
 128 THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 " Thank you ! That was spoken like the noble, unaffected 
 woman you are.' Will you always be equally sincere with 
 me Sarah ?" His accent trembled with excess of emotion 
 in calling the name. 
 
 Is it, then, an easy lot that you have chosen, Sarah Hunt ? 
 You, whose pride and glory it was to be truthful, who 
 spurned whatever assimilated in the least degree to decep- 
 tion, what think you of a life where a lie meets you on the 
 threshold, and must be accepted and perpetuated, if you 
 would preserve your name and position in his eyes and those 
 of the world. " It is the way two-thirds of the married 
 people live !" you were saying to yourself, just now. It 
 may be so ; but it is none the less a career of duplicity, per- 
 jury crime ! 
 
 " I will endeavor to please you !" she faltered, her face 
 in a flame of shame and confusion. 
 
 And this was the hue that met Lewis's eye, as her veil 
 was blown aside, in her descent to the pavement, a blush he 
 interpreted to suit his own wishes. Mr. Hunt .appeared in 
 the door-way as she alighted, and read in Hammond's 
 smile and joyous salutation all that he most desired to learn. 
 When the door was closed upon the departing suitor, the 
 father drew his best-beloved child to him, and kissed her, 
 without a word of uttered blessing. 
 
 "It would break his heart were I to recede now!" 
 thought Sarah, as she bore hers heavy, hard up to her 
 room. 
 
 That evening was the proudest era of Mrs. Hunt's exist- 
 ence. Two daughters well engaged unexceptionably 
 paired off! What mother more blest than she? Where 
 could be found other children so dutiful? other sons-in-law 
 so acceptable? By breakfast time, next day, she had 
 arranged every thing Sarah's trousseau, her house, and th 
 double wedding.
 
 HUSKS. 129 
 
 Lucy expostulated here. " But, mother, this is the first 
 of November." 
 
 " I know that, my dear ; but the ceremony will not come 
 off un til Christmas, and much can be done in six weeks foi 
 your sister your work is so forward. Then, again, 'tisn't 
 as if Sarah couldn't get every thing she needs right here, if 
 she shouldn't have enough. It will be tremendously expen- 
 sive awful, in fact ; but we must make sacrifices. We 
 can live economical after you're married and gone, and 
 save enough to meet the bills." 
 
 " If you please, madam, I prefer a plain outfit, and no 
 debts," said Sarah's most abrupt tones. 
 
 " If you please, my dear, I understand my affairs, and 
 mean to do as I think proper," retorted the no less strong- 
 willed mother. 
 
 Sarah was not cowed. " And as to the time you set, I 
 cannot agree to it. I presume that in this matter I have 
 some voice. I say six months instead of six weeks !" 
 
 " Very well, my love." Mrs. Hunt went on polishing a 
 tumbler with her napkin. She always washed her silver 
 and glass herself. " You must settle that with your father 
 and Mr. Hammond. They are crazy for this plan. They 
 were talking to me about it last night, and I told them that 
 I would engage to have every thing ready in time ; but you 
 must be consulted. I never saw your father more set upon 
 any thing. He said to me, private, that he did hope that 
 you wouldn't raise any squeamish objections, and upset their 
 arrangements." 
 
 Mrs. Hunt took up a handful of spoons as composedly as 
 if she had never stretched her conscience in her life. 
 
 Sarah's head drooped upon the table. She was very, very 
 
 miserable. In her morbid state of mind she did not dream 
 
 of questioning the accuracy of her mother's assertion. That 
 
 a marriageable single daughter was a burden to one parent^ 
 
 6*
 
 130 THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 Bhe knew but too well ; that to this able financier the pros- 
 pect of getting two out of the way, with the 6clat of a 
 double ceremony that should cost no more than Lucy's 
 nuptials would have done, was a stupendous temptation, she 
 also perceived. But that the father whom she so loved ; 
 whose sick-bed she had tended so faithfully ; whose lonely 
 hours it was her province and delight to solace that he 
 should acquiesce nay, more, rejoice in this indelicate haste 
 to get rid of her, was a cruel stab. 
 
 " Very well," she said, raising an ashy face. " Let it be 
 as you say. The sooner it is over, the better." 
 
 This clause was unheeded by her mother and sister. Had 
 they heard it, they might have understood it as little as they 
 did the composure with which she joined in the work which 
 was begun, without an hour's delay. In this trying junc- 
 ture, Mrs. Hunt came out in all her strength. Her sewing- 
 machine (she was one of the earliest purchasers of these in- 
 estimable time, labor, and money savers) went night and 
 day ; she shopped largely and judiciously, giving orders to 
 tradespeople with the air of a princess; "Jewed" her 
 butcher ; watched her pantry, and served up poorer dinners 
 than ever. Jeannie's winter outfit was ingeniously contrived 
 from her sisters' cast-off" wardrobe; Mr. Hunt's and the 
 boys' shirts and socks were patched and darned until but a 
 trifling quantity of the original material remained ; and this 
 pearl of mothers had her two year-old cloak and last 
 season's hat "done over" for this year's wear. 
 
 Foremost among the visitors to the Hunts, after this 
 latest engagement was made public, was Mrs. Marlow, the 
 wife of Mr. Hammond's benefactor and partner. Sarah was 
 out when she called ; so Mrs. Hunt received her, and dis- 
 covering very soon that, in spite of her husband's wealth 
 and her splendid establishment, she was not, as Mrs. Hunt 
 phrased it to her daughters, " one mite proud, and thought
 
 HUSKR. 131 
 
 the world and all of Lewis" the mother opened her heart 
 to her so freely, with regard to the prospective weddings 
 and her maternal anxieties, that Mrs. Marlow was em- 
 boldened to introduce a subject which had taken hold of 
 her thoughts so soon as she heard from Mr. Hammond of 
 his expected marriage. 
 
 She had a daughter, resident for the winter in Paris, 
 whose taste in female attire was unquestionable, and her 
 good-nature as praiseworthy. If Miss Sarah Hunt would 
 prepare a memorandum of such articles as she would like 
 to have selected in that emporium of fashion, she would 
 promise, for her daughter, that they should be forwarded 
 in time for "the occasion." 
 
 " Some friends of mine, now abroad, have kindly offered 
 to bring me over any quantity of fine dresses with their 
 baggage," said the complaisant old lady ; " and, as I do not 
 need their services for myself, I can smuggle in whatever 
 your daughter may order. You would be surprised at the 
 difference in prices here and there to say nothing of the 
 superior excellence and variety of the assortment from 
 which one can choose. My friends will return early in 
 December. Therefore, should you like this arrange- 
 ment, I ought to have the list and write my letters to- 
 morrow." 
 
 Energetic, fussy, snobbish Mrs. Hunt ! She stood an inch 
 taller in her shoes at the imagination of this climax to the 
 glory of the dual ceremony. " Trousseau ordered directly 
 from Paris !" She seemed already to hear the envious and 
 admiring buzz of her set ; saw herself the most blessed of 
 women her daughters the brides of the season. She would 
 order for Lucy, also ; for the longer the list the more im- 
 portance would the future Mrs. Hammond acquire in the 
 sight of her husband's friends. They could not know that 
 it was not for her alone. Then, as Mrs. Marlow intimated,
 
 l.)2 THE EMPTY HEAUT; OR, 
 
 it would be a saving. Here, like a cold shower-bath, came 
 the agonizing query " Where was the money to come 
 from ?" It would never do to run in debt to such people as 
 the Marlows. If they were hard-pressed shopkeepers, who 
 needed the money, it would be another thing. No! the 
 cash in hand, or its representative, must accompany tho 
 memorandum. 
 
 Sarah was secretly pleased at this obstacle, for she 
 despised the ostentation and extravagance going on in their 
 hungry household. Strive as she did, with wicked perti- 
 nacity, to conform herself to the world's code, there was as 
 yet too much of the ancient and better leaven left to permit 
 more than an outward obedience to the dictates of customs 
 so irrational and tyrannical. 
 
 That very evening there arrived a letter that settled the 
 question, and inflated Mrs. Hunt's collapsed spirits to an 
 expansion hitherto unequalled. It was from Aunt Sarah to 
 her namesake niece ; a guileless, fervent expression of good 
 wishes and unabated affection, and a request from " hus- 
 band" and herself that she would accept the enclosure as a 
 mark of that hopeful regard. 
 
 " Since our daughters died" wrote this true and gentle 
 mother " we have always intended to give you just exactly 
 what we would have done one of them, as a wedding- 
 present as you were named for me, and I had nursed you 
 before your mother ever did, and you seemed in some way 
 to belong to us. But since you paid us a visit we have felt 
 nearer to you than ever, and seeing that the Lord has pros- 
 pered us in this world's goods, we have made up our rninda 
 to give you a double portion, dear, what both of our girls 
 would have had, if it had pleased our Father to spare them 
 to have homes of their own upon earth. Living is high in 
 New York, but we have calculated that what we send will 
 buy your wedding-clothes and furnish your house."
 
 HUSKS. 133 
 
 The enclosed gift, to Sarah's astonishment, was a check 
 upon a city bank for a thousand dollars ! 
 
 " Was there ever such a child for luck?" exclaimed Mrs. 
 Hunt, clapping her hands. " What a fortunate thing we 
 sent you down there when we did ! That was one of my 
 plans, you remember, Mr. H. Really, Lucy, our little Sarah 
 understands how to play her cards, after all ! I never did 
 you justice, rny dear daughter. I ain't ashamed to confess 
 it. This puts all straight, and is real handsome in sister 
 Benson more than I expected. Go to work right away 
 upon your list, girls ! We'll have to set up the best part of 
 the night to get it ready. Ah, well! this comes of putting 
 one's trust in Providence and going ahead !" 
 
 Sarah thought, with aching heart and moistened eyes, of 
 Aunt Sarah's mind-pictures of the neat apparel and snug 
 dwelling she deemed proper for a young couple just be- 
 ginning house-keeping, and rebelled at this waste, this frivo- 
 lous expenditure of her love-portion. Mr. Hunt sided with 
 her, so far as to urge the propriety of her doing as she 
 pleased with what was her exclusive property ; but, as iu a 
 majority of former altercations, their arguments and pov, crs 
 of endurance were no match for the determination and n jad 
 of the real head of the family. With a sigh of pain, dis- 
 gust, and despair, Mr. Hunt succumbed, and, deserted by 
 her ally, Sarah contended but a short time longer ere sha 
 yielded up the cause of the combat to the indomitable 
 victress. 

 
 134 THE EMPTY II E A K T ; OB, 
 
 CHAPTER X. - 
 
 TUB bridal day came ; frosty and clear, dazzlingly bright, 
 by reason of the reflection from the snow, which lay deep 
 and firm upon the ground. 
 
 " What a delightful novelty this is, coming to a wedding 
 in a sleigh !" lisped one of the triad of bridesmaids, who 
 were to do double duty for the sisters. " How very 
 gay it makes one to hear the bells outside ! Have they 
 come, Vic. ?" 
 
 Victoria, whose marriage was blit one week off, was, true to 
 instiuf t and habit, on the lookout behind the friendly curtain. 
 
 She nodded. " Yes both of them, but not together. 
 What a magnificent sleigh that is of the Marlows ! They 
 brought Mr. Hammond. See the bridegrooms shake hauda 
 on the sidewalk ! That looks so sweet and brotherly ! They 
 will be up here almost directly, I suppose." 
 
 The attendants immediately began to shake out their 
 robes and stroke their white gloves. They were collected 
 in the sitting-room so often mentioned, and the sisters were 
 also present. In accordance with the ridiculous custom of 
 very parvenu modern marriages, although the ceremony was 
 to take place precisely at twelve o'clock, daylight was care- 
 fully excluded from the parlors below, gas made its sickly . 
 substitute, and the whole company was in full evening 
 costume. 
 
 " Am I all right ?" inquired Lucy, with a cautious wave 
 of her flowing veil. " Look at me, Vic.!" 
 
 ** You are perfect, my dearest!" replied the devoted para-
 
 HUSK 8. 135 
 
 site. " How I admire your beautiful self-possession ! And 
 as for you, Sarah, your calmness is wonderful ! I fear that 
 I should be terribly agitated" blushing, and casting a 
 meaning smile at Lucy. 
 
 Sarah's statuesque repose was broken by a ray of scorn 
 from the eye, and a slight disdainful smile. Whatever were 
 the feelings working beneath her marble mask, she was not 
 yet reduced to the depth of wretchedness that would 
 humble her to accept the insolent pity couched under the 
 pretended praise. She vouchsafed no other reply ; but re- 
 mained standing a little apart from the rest ; her gloved 
 hands crossed carelessly before her ; her gaze bent down- 
 wards ; her whole posture that of one who neither waited, 
 nor hoped, nor feared. 
 
 " Who would have thought that she could be made such 
 an elegant-looking woman ?" whispered one of the bride- 
 maids aside to another. 
 
 " She has actually a high-bred air ! I never imagined it 
 was in her. So much for a Parisian toilette !'* 
 
 " I am so much afraid that I shall lose my color when we 
 enter the room," said Lucy, surveying her pink cheeks in 
 the mirror. " They say it is so trying to the nerves, and I 
 am odious when I am pale." 
 
 " Never fear, my sweetest. It is more likely that the un- 
 avoidable excitement will improve your complexion. There 
 they are !" returned Victoria, hurriedly, and unconsciously, 
 no doubt the three attendants and one of the principals in 
 the forthcoming transaction, " struck an attitude," as the 
 sound of footsteps approached the door. 
 
 Lucy had only time for a whisper a last injunction to 
 her faithful crony. " Remember to see that my veil and 
 dress hang right when we get down-stairs." And the mas- 
 culine portion of the procession marched in in order. 
 
 Sarah did not look up. She bent her head as the formal
 
 136 THE EMPTY HEART; OB, 
 
 exchange of salutations was executed, and yielded her hand 
 to the person who took it in his warm pressure, and then 
 transferred it to his arm. It was one of the freaks, thus de- 
 nominated by her acquaintances, in which she had been in- 
 dulged, that she desired to have her marriage ceremony pre- 
 cede her sister's. She assigned what Lucy at least consid- 
 ered a sufficient reason for this caprice. 
 
 u Nobody will care to look at me after you stand aside, 
 Lucy. Keep the best wine until the last. My only chance 
 of getting an approving glance lies in going in before you 
 attract and fix the public gaze." 
 
 She had her way. A limited number of select friends 
 were admitted to behold " the ceremony ;" yet the parlors 
 were comfortably filled, excepting in the magical semicircle 
 described by an invisible line, in the centre of which stood 
 the clergyman in his robes. 
 
 Still dull and calm, Sarah went through the brief role that 
 fell to her share. " Behaved charmingly," was the unani- 
 mous verdict of the beholders, and surprised other people, as 
 well as the complimentary bridemaid, by her thorough-bred 
 air and Parisian toilet. Without the pause of a second, so 
 perfect was the drill of the performers, the wedded pair 
 stepped aside, and made way for the second happy couple. 
 Lucy's solicitude on the score of her complexion was needless. 
 As the solemn words were commenced, a rosy blush flickered 
 up to its appointed resting-place another and another until, 
 when Philip released her to the congratulatory throng, she 
 was the most enchanting type of a radiant Hebe that poet 
 ever sang, or painter burned to immortalize on canvas. 
 
 Philip stood beside her and sustained his portion of the 
 hand-shaking and felicitations until the press diminished, 
 then stepped hastily over to where Hammond and his bride 
 were undergoing a similar martyrdom. Until this moment 
 Sarah had not looked at, or spoken to him had never met
 
 HUSKS. 137 
 
 him face to face since their parting in the summer at Aunt 
 Sarah's. Now, not aware who it was that approached her 
 she raised her eyes with the serious dignity with which she 
 had received all other salutations, and met his downward 
 gaze full of warm and honest feeling. 
 
 " Sister !" he said, and in brotherly fondness he bent to- 
 wards her, and left a kiss upon her mouth. 
 
 A hot glow, the lurid red of offended modesty or self-con- 
 victed guilt, overspread her face ; the lips parted, quivered, 
 and closed tightly, after an ineffectual effort to articulate ; the 
 room swam around her, and Mr. Hammond caught her just 
 in time to save her from falling. It was Nature's vengeful 
 reaction for the long and unnatural strain upon her energies. 
 She did not faint entirely away, although several moments 
 elapsed before she regained perfect consciousness of her sit- 
 uation and surrounding objects. She had been placed in an 
 easy-chair; her head rested against her father's shoulder, 
 and 011 the other side stood Lewis, almost as pale as herself, 
 holding a glass of wine to her lips. Around her were 
 grouped her mother, Lucy, and Philip. The guests had 
 withdrawn politely to the background, and maintained a re- 
 spectful silence. 
 
 " What have I betrayed ?" was her first coherent reflec- 
 tion ; and, with an instinctive perception of the quarter 
 where such disclosures would do most harm, her eye turned 
 with a sort of appealing terror to Lewis. His heart leaped 
 at the movement, revealing, as he fancied it did, dependence 
 upon his strength, recognition of his right to be with and 
 nearest to her. 
 
 " You are better," he said, with a moved tenderness he 
 could not and cared not to restrain. 
 
 Tli-3 words, the manner, were an inexpressible relief to her 
 fears, and trying to return his smile, she would have arisen 
 but for her father's interposition.
 
 138 THE EMPTY HEART; OB, 
 
 " Sit still," he advised. " Mrs. Hunt, Lucy, Mr. Benson, 
 will you entertain our friends ? She will be all right in a 
 little while, Mr, Hammond." 
 
 " Tableaux vivants /" said Lucy's soft, rich voice, as she 
 advanced towards the reassured guests. " This is a part of 
 the performance not set down in the programme. Quite 
 theatrical, was it not ?" 
 
 It is very possible that Philip Benson would not have re- 
 garded this as an apropos or refined witticism, had any one 
 else been the speaker ; but as the round, liquid tones rolled 
 it forth, and her delicious laugh led off the instant revival at. 
 mirth and badinage, he marvelled at her consummate tact, hei 
 happy play of fancy (!), and returned devout thanks to the 
 stars that had bestowed upon him this prodigy of grace, wit, 
 and beauty. Sarah rallied speedily ; and, contrary to the 
 advice of her father and husband, maintained her post in 
 the drawing-room during all the reception, which contin- 
 ued from half-past twelve to half-past two. 
 
 It was a gay and shifting scene a sparkling, murmuring 
 tide, that ebbed and flowed to and from the quartette who 
 formed the attractive power. Silks, laces, velvets, furs, and 
 diamonds; faces young, old, and middle-aged; handsome, 
 fair, and homely ; all decked in the same conventional holi- 
 day smile ; bodies tall and short, executing every variety of 
 bow and courtesy ; voices sweet, sharp, and guttural, utter- 
 ing the senseless formula of congratulation these were 
 Sarah's impressions of the tedious ceremonial. Restored to 
 her rigid composure, she too bowed and spoke the word or 
 sentence custom exacted an emotionless automaton in 
 seeming, while Lucy's matchless inflections lent interest ancj 
 beauty to the like nothings, as she rehearsed them in her 
 turn ; and Philip Benson, having no solicitude for his bride's 
 health or ability to endure the fatigue, was collected enough 
 to compare the two, and, while exulting in his selection, to
 
 HUSKS. 1 39 
 
 commiserate the proprietor of the colder and less gifted 
 Bister. 
 
 At last the trial was over ; the hospitable mansion wag 
 closed ; the parlors deserted ; the preparations for travelling 
 hurried through ; and the daughters went forth from their 
 girlhood's home. Philip had cordially invited Sarah ani 
 Lewis, by letter, to accompany Lucy and himself to Georgia 
 but Sarah would not hear of it, and Lewis, while he left the 
 decision to her, was not sorry that she preferred to jour- 
 ney instead with him alone. It was too cold to go north- 
 ward, and the Hammonds now proposed to proceed with 
 the others as far as Baltimore, there to diverge upon a 
 Western and Southern tour, which was to occupy three 
 weeks, perhaps four.
 
 140 THE EMPTY HEART: OR, 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 DURING the month preceding his marriage, Lewis Ham- 
 mond had spent nmch time and many thoughts in providing 
 and furnishing a house for his wife. His coadjutor in this 
 labor of love w r as not, as one might have expected, Mrs. Hunt, 
 but his early friend, Mrs. Marlow. His omission of his fu- 
 ture mother-in-law, in his committee of consultation, he ex- 
 plained to her by representing the number of duties already 
 pressing upon her, and bis unwillingness to add aught to 
 their weight. But when both girls were married and gone, 
 and the work of " getting to rights" was all over, this inde- 
 fatigable woman paid Mrs. Marlow a visit, and offered her 
 assistance in completing the arrangements for the young 
 housekeepers. 
 
 " There is nothing for us to do," said Mrs. Marlow. 
 " Lewis attended to the purchase of every thing before leav- 
 ing ; and the orders are all in the hands of a competent 
 upholsterer whom he has employed, as is also the key of the 
 house. I offered to have the house-cleaning done, but 
 Lewis refused to let me help him even in this. He is very 
 methodical, and rather strict in some of his ideas. When 
 the premises are pronounced ready for the occupancy of the 
 future residents, you and I will play inspectors, and find as 
 much fault as we can." 
 
 Mrs. Hunt went around by the house on her way home. 
 It was new and handsome, a brown stone front, with stone 
 balconies and balustrades ; but three stories high, it was 
 true, yet of ample width and pitch of ceiling, and as she
 
 HTJSKS. 141 
 
 discovered by skirting t^ square at least three rooms deep 
 all tl>e way up. The location was unobjectionable; not 
 more than four blocks from the paternal residence, and in a 
 wider street. On the whole, ohe had no fault to find, pro- 
 vided Mr. Hammond had furnished it iu such style as she 
 would have recommended. She had her fears lest his sober 
 taste in other respects should extend to these matters, and 
 hinted something of the kind to hor husband. 
 
 " I have confidence in Mr. Hammond to believe that ha 
 >vill allow his wife every indulgence compatible with his 
 means," was the reply. 
 
 Mr. Hunt did not deem it obligatory upon him to state that 
 his son-in-law had conferred with him upoii numerous ques- 
 tions pertaining to Sarah's likes and probable wishes ; that he 
 had examined and approved of the entire collection of furni- 
 ture, etc., selected for her use. Why should he, how could 
 he, without engendering in his wife's bosom th suspicion 
 that had accounted to him for Lewis's choice of the father 
 as an adviser ? namely, that the newly-made husband had 
 gained a pretty correct estimate of this managing lady's 
 character, her penny-wise and pound-foolish policy, and in- 
 tended to inaugurate altogether a different one in his bouse. 
 
 Regardless of Mrs. Marlow's polite insinuation that their 
 room was preferable to their company until all things should 
 be in readiness for inspection, the ambitious mother made 
 sundry visits to the premises while they were being fitted 
 up, and delivered herself of divers suggestions and reconr 
 inundations, which fell like sand on a rock upon the presid 
 ing man of business. 
 
 On the day appointed for the tourists' return, Mrs. Mar 
 low's carriage drew up at Mr. Hunt's door, by appointment, 
 to take the mistress of the house upon the proposed visit oi 
 criticism of her daughter's establishment. Mrs. Marlow 
 'was in a sunny mood, and indisposed to censure, as was
 
 142 THE EMPTY HEART; OB, 
 
 evinced by ejaculations of pleasure at the general effect of 
 each apartment as they entered, and praise of its component 
 parts. Mrs. Hunt was not so undiscriminating. The mil- 
 lionnaire's wife must not imagine that she was dazzled by 
 any show of elegance, or that she was overjoyed at the 
 prospect of her child's having so beautiful and commodiou 
 a home. 
 
 " The everlasting oak and green !" she uttered, as they 
 reached the dining-room. " It is a pity Mr. Hammond did 
 not select walnut and crimson instead ! Green is very un- 
 becoming to Sarah." 
 
 " Then we must impress upon her the importance of cul- 
 tivating healthy roses in her cheeks, and wearing bright 
 warm colors. This combination green and oak is pretty 
 and serviceable, I think. The table is very neatly set, 
 Mary," continued Mrs. Marlow, kindly, to the tidy serving- 
 maid. " Keep an eye on the silver, my good girl, until your 
 mistress comes. Mrs. Hunt, shall we peep into the china- 
 closets before we go to the kitchen? I have taken the 
 liberty, at Lewis's request, of offering to your daughter the 
 services of a couple of my protegees, excellent servants, 
 who lived for years with one of my own children Mrs. 
 Morland, now in Paris. They are honest, willing, and, I 
 think, competent. The man-servant, if Lewis sees fit to 
 keep one, he must procure himself." 
 
 The china, glass, and pantries were in capital order; 
 the kitchen well stocked, light, and clean, and dinner over 
 the fire. 
 
 " You will be punctual to the minute, Katy, please !" was 
 the warning here. " Mr. Hammond is particular in the 
 matter of time." 
 
 " And you will see that my daughter has a cup of clear, 
 strong coffee !" ordered Mrs. Hunt, magisterially. " She is 
 delicate, and accustomed to the very best of cookery."
 
 HUSKS. 143 
 
 And, having demonstrated her importance and superior 
 housewifery to the round-eyed cook, she swept out. 
 
 To an unprejudiced eye, the whole establishment was 
 without a flaw ; and, undisturbed, by the captious objections 
 of her companion in the survey, Mrs. Marlow saw and 
 judged for herself, and carried home with her a most pleas- 
 ing imagination of Lewis's gratification, and Sarah's de- 
 lighted surprise with the scene that was to close their day 
 of cold and weariness. 
 
 By Mr. Hammond's expressed desire to his father-in-tew, 
 there was no one except the domestics in the house when 
 they arrived. As the carriage stopped, the listening maid 
 opened the door, and a stream of radiance shot into the 
 misty night across the wet pavement upon the two figures 
 that stepped from the conveyance. 
 
 " In happy homes he sees the light." The mental quota 
 tion brought back to Sarah the vision of that lonely evening, 
 ten months before, when she had moaned it in her dreary 
 twilight musings at the window of her little room. 
 " Dreary then, hopeless now !" and with this voiceless sigh, 
 she crossed the threshold of her destined abode. With a 
 kindly greeting to the servants in the hall, Lewis hurried 
 his wife onward, past the parlor doors, into a library sitting- 
 room, back of the show apartments, warm and bright, 
 smiling a very home welcome. 
 
 Here he placed her in a deep cushioned chair, and, press- 
 ing her hands in his, kissed her, with a heartfelt " May 
 you be very happy in our home, dear wife !" 
 
 "Thank you!" she replied. "It is pleasant here, and 
 you are too kind." 
 
 " That is impossible where you are concerned. Sit here, 
 while I see to the trunks. When they are carried up- 
 stairs, you can go to your room. Throw off your hat and 
 cloak."
 
 144 THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 He was very thoughtful of her comfort too thoughtful^ 
 because his love made him watchful of her every look, 
 word, and gesture. She was glad of the brief respite from 
 this vigilance, that allowed her to bury her face in her hands 
 and groan aloud. She had no heart to look around her 
 cage. No doubt it was luxurious; the bars softly and 
 richly lined ; the various arrangements the best of their 
 kind; still, it was nothing but a cage a prison, from which 
 death only could release her. 
 
 The trim maid came for her wrappings, and directly 
 afterwards Lewis, to take her up-stairs. 
 
 " Not a very elaborate toilet, dear," he said, as he left 
 her for his dressing-room. " You will see no one this even- 
 ing but our father and mother, and they will remember 
 that you have been travelling all day." 
 
 "When she was ready, it lacked still a quarter of an hour 
 of dinner-time, and she acceded to Lewis's proposal that 
 they should go over their dwelling. By his order, there 
 were lights in every room. The graceful furniture, the 
 well-contrasted hues of the soft carpets, the curtains and 
 pictures showed to fine advantage. Every thing was in 
 place, from cellar to attic ; not a symptom of parsimony or 
 cheapness in the whole ; and all betokened, besides excellent 
 judgment, such conformity to, or unison with her taste, 
 that Sarah, with all her heaviness of heart, was pleased. 
 She was touched too with gratitude or remorse ; for, when 
 they were back in the cozy sitting-room, she laid her hand 
 timidly on that of her husband, and said, falteringly : 
 
 " I do not deserve that you should take so much pains to 
 gratify me, Mr. Hammond.''' 
 
 Over Lewis's face there flushed one of the rare smiles 
 that made him positively handsome while they lasted. He 
 grasped the shrinking fingers firmly, and drew his wife 
 close to his side.
 
 H U S K 8 . 145 
 
 " Shall I tell you how to repay me for all that I have 
 done, or ever can do, to promote your ease and enjoy- 
 ment ?" 
 
 "If you please." But her heart sank, as she foresaw 
 some demands upon a love that had never existed a treas- 
 ury that, to him, was sealed and empty ; yet whose pov- 
 erty she dared not avow. 
 
 " Call me ' Lewis,' now that we are at home, dear. I 
 cannot realize that you are indeed all mine that our lives 
 are one and the same, while you continue that very proper 
 'Mr. Hammond.' " 
 
 "It comes more naturally to my tongue, and don't you 
 think it more respectful than than the other?" 
 
 " I ask no such form of respect from you. I do not fear 
 lest you should fail to 'honor and obey' me, you little 
 paragon of duty ! Believe me, dearest, I fully understand 
 and reverence the modest reserve, that has not yet ceased 
 to be shyness, in the expression of your sentiments towards 
 me. You are not demonstrative hy nature. Neither am I. 
 But since you are my other self, and there is no living bekig 
 nearer to you than myself, ought we not to overcome this 
 propensity to, or custom of, locking up our feelings in our 
 own breasts? Let me begin by a confession of one un- 
 comfortable complaint, under which I have labored ever 
 since our engagement. Do you know, darling, that I abso- 
 lutely hunger I cannot give any other name to the long- 
 ing I hunger and thirst to hear you say that you love 
 me ! Do you remember that you have never told me in so 
 many words what you have given me other good reasons 
 for believing? I need but one thing this evening to fill my 
 cup with purest content. It is to have you say openly, 
 fearlessly, as my wife has a right to do 'Lewis, I love 
 you!"' 
 
 " It need be a source of no unhappiness to be married to 

 
 146 THE EMPTY HEABT; OH, 
 
 a man whom one does not love, provided he is kind and 
 generous!" say match-makers and worldly-wise mothers. 
 Perhaps not, after one's conscience is seared into callosity 
 by perjuries, and her forehead grown bold as brass ; but 
 the neophyte in the laudable work of adaptation to such cir 
 cumstances will trip in her words and color awkwardly 
 while acquiring this enviable hardihood. 
 
 Sarah's head fell, and her face was stained with blushes. 
 One wild impulse was to throw herself at the feet of him 
 whom she had wronged so foully, and, confessing her mad, 
 wicked deception upon his holiest feelings, pray him to send 
 her away to cast her adrift, and rid himself of a curse, 
 while he freed her from the gentle, yet intolerable bondage 
 of his love. 
 
 "Dinner is ready!" announced the servant. Sarah'a 
 senses returned, and with them self-control. With a strange 
 smile, she glanced up at him a look he did not under- 
 stand, yet could not guess was born of anguish and said, 
 with a hesitation that seemed pretty and coquettish to 
 him " Leiois I do you hear ? May it please your worship. 
 I am very hungry !" 
 
 " Tease ! I will have my revenge yet ! See if I dc 
 not !" 
 
 Laughing lightly, she eluded his outstretched arm, and 
 sprang past him into the hall leading to the dining-room. 
 She assumed the seat at the head of the table with a burlesque 
 of dignity, and throughout the meal was more talkative 
 and frolicsome than he had ever seen her before. So cap- 
 tivated was he by her lively discourse and bright looks, 
 that he was sorry to hear the ring, proclaiming the coming 
 of the expected visitors. The dessert had not been re- 
 moved, and the girl was instructed to show them imme- 
 diately into the dining-room. 
 
 A toast was drunk to the prosperity of the lately es-
 
 147 
 
 tablished household, and the gentlemen went off to the 
 library. 
 
 " Always see to putting away your silver, Sarah !" coun- 
 selled the mother. " And you had ought to get a common 
 set of dinner and breakfast things. This china is too nice 
 for every-day use. Of course, Mr. Hammond can afford to 
 get more when this is broken ; but it's a first-rate rule, child, 
 as you'll find, to put your money where it will show most. 
 That's the secret of my management. Mr. Hammond must 
 give you an allowance for housekeeping and pin-money. 
 Speak to him about it right away. Men are more liberal 
 while the honeymoon lasts than they ever are afterwards. 
 Strike While the iron is hot. You can't complain of your 
 husband, so far. He has set you up very handsome. If I 
 had been consulted about furnishing, I would have saved 
 enough off of those third'-story chambers and the kitchen to 
 buy another pair of mirrors for your parlors. The mantels 
 has a bare look. I noticed it directly I went in. To be 
 sure, the Parian ornaments are pretty and tasty, and expen- 
 sive enough dear knows 1 but they don't make much of a 
 display." 
 
 " I do not like the fashion of lining walls with mirrors," 
 said Sarah, in her old, short way ; " and am satisfied with 
 the house as it is. Shall we join the gentlemen ?" 
 
 Nothing had ever showed her mo-re plainly the degrada- 
 tion of her false position than the confident air her mother 
 wore in making her coarse observations, and instructing her 
 as to the method of managing her generous, confiding hus- 
 band. It was the free-masonry of a mercenary wife, whose 
 spou.se would have been better represented to her mind by 
 his money-bag than his own pi'oper person, towards another 
 of the same craft, who rated her lawful banker by corre- 
 sponding rules. 
 
 " Will I then really grow to be like her and her associ-
 
 148 THE EMPTY HEART; OB, 
 
 ates ?" Sarah questioned inly. " Will a fine bouse and its 
 fixtures, will dress and equipage and pin-mouey so increase 
 in importance as to fill this aching vacuum in my heart ? 
 Will a position in life, and the envy of my neighbors, make 
 up to me for the loss of the love of which I used to dream, 
 the happiness which the world owes me yet ? Is this the 
 coin in which it would redeem its promises ?" 
 
 Mr. Hunt's mild features wore their happiest expression 
 this evening. He arose at the ladies' entrance, and beckon- 
 ed his daughter to a seat on the sofa beside him. 
 
 " You are a little travel-worn I" he said. " Your cheeks 
 ai*e not very ruddy." 
 
 "Did you ever see them when they were?" asked Sarah, 
 playfully. 
 
 " She was always just that pale when she was a baby," 
 said Mi s. Hunt, setting herself in the arm-chair proffered by 
 her son-in law. " Lucy stole all the roses from her." Sarah 
 may have thought that other and more grievous thefts had 
 succeeded this doubtful one, but she neither looked nor said 
 this. "And that reminds me, Mr. H. ! Did you bring 
 Lucy's letter for Sarah to read ?" 
 
 " I did." Mr. Hunt produced it. " Keep it, and read it 
 at your leisure, Sarah." 
 
 " They are supremely happy, I suppose ?" remarked Lewis, 
 with the benevolent interest incident to his fellowship of 
 feeling with them. 
 
 "For all the world like two turtle-doves!" Mrs. Hunt 
 rejoined. " Their letters are a curiosity. It is ' Phil.' and 
 ' Lucy' from one end to the other. I mean to save them to 
 show to them five years from now. Hot love is soon cool, 
 and by and by they will settle down as sensible as any of 
 the rest of us. You don't begin so, I see, Sarah, and I am 
 pleased at it. Between me and you, it's two-thirds of it 
 humbug! There is Victoria West- that was! She looks
 
 HUSKS. 149 
 
 ready, in company, to eat up that .ean monkey of a George 
 Bond. I don't believe but she shows him the other side of 
 the pictures in private." 
 
 Sarah heard her father's suppressed sigh,, and felt, without 
 looking up, that her husband's eyes sought hers wistfully. 
 The unobservant dame pursued her free and easy discourse. 
 Mr. Hammond was " one of the family" now, and there was 
 no more occasion for choice grammar or fine sentiments 
 before him. 
 
 " Not that I blame Victoria for taking him. He was a 
 good offer, and she wasn't much admired by the gentle- 
 men rich as Mr. West is. Mr. Bond is twenty-five years 
 older than she is, and wears false teeth and a toupee ; but I 
 suppose she is willing to overlook trifles. She watches out 
 for the main chance, and will help him take care of his 
 money, as well as spend it. Vic. is a prudent girl." 
 
 " Lucy Mrs. Benson was at home when she wrote, was 
 she not ?" interrogated Mr. Hammond. 
 
 " Yes, at his father's. His mother keeps house, and Lucy 
 has nothing to do but ride, visit, and entertain company. 
 She says the house is crowded the whole time, and she has 
 so many beaux that Philip stands no chance of speaking a 
 word to her. She is perfectly happy." 
 
 Notwithstanding the various feelings of the listeners, none 
 of them could resist this picture of a felicitous honeymoon, 
 so naively spoken. Lewis's laugh cleared the vapors from 
 his brow, and the pain at Sarah's heart did not hinder her 
 from joining in. 
 
 " And the ousted bridegroom, perforce, seeks consolation 
 in the society of his fair friends ?" said Lewis. " If this is 
 the way young married people show the love-sickness you 
 complained of just now, Mrs. Hunt, I am content with our 
 more staid ways eh, Sarah ?" 
 
 " Quiet ways suit me best," was the answer.
 
 150 THE EMPTY HEART; OK, 
 
 "'Still water runs deep,'" quoted Mrs. Hunt. "I used 
 to worry over your stay-at-home habits and eternal study 
 of books, Sarah ; but I'm ready to say now that you was 
 aensible to behave as you did, as it has turned out. I don't 
 mean to flatter Mr. Hammond, but I'd ten times rather 
 you had taken him than a dried-up widower like George 
 Bond." 
 
 " Thank you !" bowed Lewis, desirous of diverting atten- 
 tion from Sarah's growing uneasiness beneath her mother's 
 congratulations. 
 
 Mrs. Hunt held on her way. "I never had a fear lest 
 Lucy shouldn't marry well. She was pretty and attractive, 
 and knew too much about the world to throw herself away 
 for the sake of love iii a cottage. But now the danger is 
 over, I will allow that I used to mistrust Sarah here some- 
 times. You was just queer enough to fall in love with some 
 adventurer with a foreign name, and never a cent in his 
 pocket yes, and marry him, too, in spite of all that could 
 be said and done to prevent it. I was forever in a ' feaze' 
 about you ; fancying that you was born to make an out-and- 
 out love-match the silliest thing a girl can do, in my 
 opinion." 
 
 " You never dreamed of her ' taking up,' as the phrase is, 
 with a humdrum individual like myself," said Lewis. " Nor, 
 to be candid, did I, for a long time, Mrs. Hunt. Yet I can- 
 not say that I regret her action, disadvantageous to herself 
 though it was. I wrote to you of our visit to New Orleans, 
 did I not, sir ?" he continued to Mr. Hunt, inwardly a little 
 disgusted by the frank revelations his niaimna-in-law was 
 making of her principles and plans. 
 
 The subject so interesting to most wedded people, so em- 
 barrassing to one of the present party, was not again intro- 
 luced during the elder couple's stay. When Lowis returned 
 to the library, after seeing them out, Sarah sat where he
 
 HUSKS. 151 
 
 had left her, her hand shading her eyes deep in thought, 
 or Overcome by weariness. 
 
 " You had better go up to your room, dear," said Lewis, 
 " I wonder you are not worn out completely." 
 
 She arose to obey ; walked as far as the door, then came 
 hack to him. 
 
 " It may appear strange to you that I should speak openly 
 of such a suspicion ; but I must beg you not to suppose for 
 an instant that in my acceptance of your offer of marriage, 
 I was actuated by mercenary motives. You look sur- 
 prised" she hurried on yet faster while her resolution 
 lasted "but I could not rest without doing myself this act 
 of justice. Much that mother said to-night might must 
 have led you to this conclusion. I would not have you 
 think worse of me than I deserve, and of this one act of 
 baseness I am innocent." 
 
 " My precious little wife, how excited you are ! and over 
 what a nonsensical imagination ! Suspect you the noblest 
 as well as the dearest of women of selling yourself, body 
 and soul, for money? Listen to my speech now, dear 
 Sarah !" 
 
 He sat down and pulled her to his knee. "I esteem you, 
 as I love you, above all the rest of your sex above any 
 other created mortal. I know you to be a pure, high-minded 
 woman. When I part with this persuasion, may I part also 
 with the life that doubt on this point would render wretch- 
 ed ! Judge, then, whether it be possible for me to link this 
 holy realization of womanhood with the thought of another 
 character, which I will describe. I hold that she wh( 
 enters the hallowed state of wedlock through motives of 
 pecuniary interest, or ambition, or convenience indeed, 
 through any consideration save that of love, single and 
 entire, for him to whom she pledges her vows, stands, in the 
 sight of her Maker and the angels, on a level with the most
 
 152 THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 abandoned outcast that pollutes the earth she treads. I 
 shock you, I see ; but on this subject I feel strongly. I 
 have seen much, too much, of fashionable marriages formed 
 .for worldly aggrandizement for riches ; sometimes in pique 
 at having lost a coveted lover. With my peculiar senti- 
 ments, I feel that I could endure no heavier curse than to 
 contract an alliance like any of these. I repeat it, I believe 
 in Woman as God made her and intended she should live, 
 if for no other reason than because I recollect my mother, 
 boy as I was when she died ; and because I know and have 
 you, my true, blessed wife 1"
 
 HUSKS. 153 
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 A YEAR and five months had passed away since the even- 
 ing when Lewis Hammond held his conscience-stricken wife 
 uponjris knee, and told her in fervid words that singularly 
 belied his calm and even demeanor at other times of his 
 faith in and love for her, and his abhorrence of the sin she 
 felt in her trembling soul that she had committed. Yet she 
 had not the superhuman courage required to contradict a 
 trust like this. There was no alternative but to keep up the 
 weary, wicked mockery unto the end. 
 
 " But in all these months she must have learned to care 
 for him !" cries Mrs. Common Sense. " There is nothing 
 disagreeable about the man. He is not brilliant ; yet he has 
 intelligence and feeling, and is certainly attached to his wife. 
 I have no doubt but that he indulges her in every reason a- 
 ble request, and comports himself in all respects like an ex- 
 emplary husband." 
 
 Granted, to each and every head of your description, my 
 dear madam ! But, for all that, his obdurate wife had not 
 come to 10>ve him. I blush to say it ; but while we are strip- 
 ping hearts let us not be squeamish ! There had been sea- 
 sons, lasting sometimes for weeks, when her existence was 
 a continual warfare between repugnance to him and her 
 sense of duty ; when she dreaded to hear his step in the 
 hall, and shrank inwardly from his caress ; watched and 
 fought, until strength and mind were well-nigh gone. Mark 
 me ! I do not deny that this was as irrational as it was rep 
 7*
 
 154 THE EMPTY HEART; OB, 
 
 rehensible ; but I have never held up my poor Sarah as a 
 model of reason or propriety. From the beginning, I have 
 made her case a warning. The fates forbid that I should 
 commend it to any as an example for imitation ! A passion- 
 ate, proud, reticent girl ; a trusting, loving, deceived woman 
 a hopeless, desperate bride whose heartjay like a pulseless 
 stone in her breast at the most ardent love-words of her 
 husband, and throbbed with wild, uncontrollable emotion 
 at the fraternal tone and kiss of her lost and only love I 
 have no plea for her, save the words of Infinite compassion 
 and Divine knowledge of human nature and human woe : 
 " Let him that is without sin among you cast the first stone 
 at her!" 
 
 The highly respectable firm of which Mr. Hammond was 
 the junior member, was adding, if not field to field, thousand 
 to thousand, of the wherewithal for the purchase of fields, 
 or, what was better still, city lots. Mrs. Lewis Hammond 
 had set up her carriage about a year after her marriage ; said 
 equipage being a gift from her generous husband on the oc- 
 casion of the first airing of the little " Baby Belle," as she 
 was always called in the family. Not until subsequent events 
 had endowed it with deeper and saddest interest did Sarah 
 read Aldrich's beautiful poem bearing the above title. 
 Lewis's mother's name was Isabella. Her grandchild re- 
 ceived the same, which became " Belle" on the mother's 
 tongue, and then, because it was natural to say " Baby" too, 
 the pretty alliteration was adopted. 
 
 To a man of Le\vis's domestic tastes the advent of this 
 child was a source of the liveliest pleasure, and the tiny in- 
 mate of his household was another and a powerful tie, bind- 
 ing him to a home already dear. But to the mother's lonely 
 life, so bare of real comfort or joy haunted by memory and 
 darkened by remorse the precious gift came like a ray of 
 Heaven's purest light, a strain of angel music, saying to
 
 HTJ8K8. 155 
 
 care, " Sleep !" to hope, " Awake, the morning cometh !" Be- 
 neath the sunshine of so much love, the infant throve finely, 
 and without being a greater prodigy than the nine hundred 
 and ninety-nine miracles of beauty and sprighlliness who, 
 with it, composed the thousand " blessed babies" of the day, 
 was still a pretty,- engaging creature, whose gurgling laugh 
 and communicative " coo" beguiled the mother's solitude, 
 and made cheerful the lately silent house. 
 
 It was late in the June afternoon, and arrayed in clean 
 white frock, broad sash, and shoulder-knots of pink ribbon, 
 the small lady sat on her mother's lap at the front window, 
 awaiting the appearance of the husband and father. Sarah 
 had altered much since her marriage ; " improved wonder- 
 fully," said her acquaintances. There was still in her mien a 
 touch of haughtiness; in her countenance the look that spoke 
 profound thought and introspection. Still, when in repose, 
 her brow had a cast of seriousness that bordered on melan- 
 choly ; but over her features had passed a change like that 
 wrought by the sculptor's last stroke to the statue. The 
 mould was the same the chiselling more clear and fine. 
 Especially after the birth of her child was this refining pro- 
 cess most apparent in its effects. There was a softness in her 
 smile, a gentle sweetness in her voice, as she now talked to 
 the babe, directing its attention to the window, lest the 
 father's approach should be unnoticed, and he disappointed 
 in his shout of welcome. 
 
 " How affected ! gotten up for show !" sn,eered the child 
 less Mrs. Bond, as she rolled by in her carriage, on her way 
 to her handsome, cheerless home and its cross master. 
 
 " She has chosen her position well, at all events," rejoined 
 her companion, a neighbor and gossip, who had taken Lucy's 
 place in Victoria's confidence. 
 
 "Ridiculous!" She spat out the ejaculation from the 
 overflowing of her spleen. "I could laugh at her airs, if
 
 156 THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 they did not make me mad ! One would think, to see her 
 as she sits there, that she had decked herself and the child 
 to please a man that she doated upon like the good wives 
 we read of in novels." 
 
 " And why shouldn't she be fond of him? He is a good- 
 hearted fellow, and lets her do pretty much as she pleases, 
 I imagine, besides waiting on her like any lover. I often 
 meet them riding out together. That is more than your 
 husband or mine ever does, my dear." 
 
 " They go quite as often as we desire their company, I 
 fancy. Mine does, I know. Perhaps if we had the reason 
 for parading our conjugal devotion that Mrs. Hammond lias, 
 we might wheedle our lawful lords into taking a seat along- 
 side of us, once in a while. There's nothing like keeping 
 up appearances, particularly if the reality is lacking. If 
 Lewis Hammond knew some of the pretty stories I could 
 tell him, about his Sarah's love-scrapes, he would not look 
 BO sublimely contented with his three-story paradise. The 
 elegant clothes he piles upon that squaw of his are prepos- 
 terous, and she carries them off as if she had dressed well 
 all her days. I tell you, she never looked decent until she 
 put on her wedding-dress. You have heard of the fainting- 
 scene that took place that morning, I suppose ? Old Mother 
 Hunt said it was ' sensibility,' and ' nervous agitation ;' the 
 company laid it to the heat of the room ; and I laughed in 
 my sleeve, and said nothing. If that woman aggravates 
 me much more, I will remind her of some passages in her 
 experience she does not dream that I know." 
 
 " Do tell me what you mean ? I am dying of curiosity ! 
 Did she flirt very hard before she was married ?" 
 
 " She never had the chance. Lewis Hammond was her 
 only offer." 
 
 " What was the matter, then ?" 
 
 " I can't tell you now. It is too long a story. The next
 
 157 
 
 time she frets me, as she does whenever she crosses my 
 path, maybe you will hear the romance. Shall I set you 
 down at your door, or will you enliven me by spending the 
 evening with me? I do not expect other company, and 
 George falls asleep over his newspaper as soon as he has 
 despatched his dinner. Come in, and I will show you the 
 loveliest sofa-pillow you ever beheld ; a new pattern I have 
 just finished." 
 
 " Thank you ! I would accept the invitation with pleas- 
 ure, but I have not been home since breakfast, and Jamea 
 makes such a fuss if he does not find me in the nursery, 
 tending that whimpering baby, when he comes up at night, 
 that it is as much as my life is worth to stay out after six 
 o'clock. Any thing for peace, you know ; and since we 
 wives are slaves, it is best to keep on the blind side of our 
 masters." 
 
 The day had been warm down town, and as Lewis Ham- 
 mond stepped from the stage at the 'corner nearest his house, 
 he felt jaded and dispirited a physical depression, aug- 
 mented by a slight headache. A business question which he 
 had talked over with Mr. Marlow, before leaving the store, 
 contributed its weight of thoughtfulness, and he was not 
 conscious how near he was to his dwelling until, aroused by 
 a sharp tap upon the window-pane, he glanced up at the 
 animated tableau framed by the sash the smiling mother, 
 and the babe leaping and laughing, and stretching its hands 
 towards him. 
 
 " This is the sweetest refreshment a man can ask after 
 his day of toil," he said, when, having kissed wife and child, 
 he took the latter in his arms. He was not addicted to 
 complimentary speeches, and while his esteem and attach- 
 ment for his chosen partner were even stronger than they 
 had been in the heart of the month-old bridegroom, he wa3 
 less apt to express them to her now than then. In one
 
 158 THE EMPTY HEART; OB, 
 
 respect, and only one, his wedded life had brought him 
 disappointment. Unreserved confidence and demonstrative 
 affection on his side had failed to draw forth similar exhibi- 
 tions of feeling from Sarah. Kind, thoughtful, dutiful, 
 {scrupulously faithful to him and his interests in word, look, 
 and deed, she ever was. Yet he saw that she was , 
 changed being from the fond, impulsive daughter, whose 
 ministry in her father's sick-room had won for her a hus- 
 band's love. Her reception of his affectionate advances was 
 passive a reception merely, without apparent return. 
 Never, and he had ceased now to ask it, had she once said 
 to him the phrase he had craved to hear " I love you !" 
 Yet he would as soon have questioned the reality of his 
 existence as that she did love him. He held inviolate his 
 trust in the motive that had induced her to become his wife, 
 and in this calm confidence he was fain to rest, in the ab- 
 sence of protestations that would have gladdened his soul, 
 while they could hardly have strengthened his faith in her 
 affection. 
 
 Few wives, however loving, have been more truly cher- 
 ished than was Sarah, and of this she was partially aware. 
 If she had remained ignorant of Lewis's sentiments and 
 wishes with regard to herself, until the grieved and unre- 
 quited love had subsided into the dull aching that does not, 
 like a green wound, create, by its very smart, a spe- 
 cies of excitement that helps one bear the pain ; had he 
 glided gradually into the joyless routine of her life's duties, 
 and bided his time of speaking until he had made himself 
 necessary to her comfort and peace, he might have won a 
 willing bride. But what omniscient spirit was there to 
 instruct and caution him 1 He met and loved her, supposing 
 her to be as free as himself; like an honest, upright man, he 
 told that love, and, without a misgiving, placed his honor 
 and his happiness in her hands.
 
 1IU6K8. 159 
 
 Sarah could not have told why she revolved all this in 
 her unquiet mind as he sat near her, playing with their 
 child ; yet she did think of their strange sad history, and 
 from the review arose a fueling of pity, sincere, almost 
 tender, for him, so worthy and so deceived. She remem- 
 bered with abasement of spirit how often she had been 
 ready to hate him as the instrument of her bondage ; how 
 wrathful words had arisen to her lips at the moment of his 
 greatest kindness ; how patiently he had borne her coldness ; 
 how unflagging was his care of and for her. Over the dark, 
 turbulent gulf of the uuforgotten past that sundered their 
 hearts, she longed, as she had never done before, to call to 
 him, and confessing her sin against Heaven and against 
 him, to implore pardon for the sake of the spotless babe 
 that smiled into the father's face with its mother's eyes. 
 Would he be merciful ? Slowly and emphatically memory 
 repeated in her ear his denunciation of the unloving wife, 
 and courage died before the menaced curse. 
 
 " Fudge ! Fiddlesticks ! what frippery nonsense !" cry 
 out, in a vehement storm of indignation, a bevy of the 
 Common Sense connection. " Are we not staid and respect- 
 able matrons all ? Do we not rear our daughters virtuous- 
 ly, and teach our sons to honor father as well as mother? 
 Yet who of us troubles herself with raking in the cold ashes 
 of her ' long ago' for the bones of some dead and gone love 
 a' girlish folly of which she would be ashamed now ? 
 "What cares Mr. Common Sense, among his day-books and 
 ledgers, in his study or in his office, how many times his now 
 correct helpmeet pledged eternal fidelity to other lovers 
 before she put her last crop of wild oats into the ground, 
 and settled for life with him ? What if some of us, may be 
 all, if driven hard, should admit that when we stood up 
 before the minister we underwent certain qualms call them 
 pangs, if you likt at the thought of Tom This, or Harry
 
 160 THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 That, or Dick The Other, who, if circumstances had permit* 
 ted, we would have preferred should occupy the place of 
 * The man whom we actually held by the hand !' While 
 men can choose their mates, and women can only -take such 
 as propose to them, these things will happen. After all, 
 who is hurt?" You aver that none of you are, mesdaines, 
 and we would not call your word in question. Ladies so 
 conscientious must, of necessity, be veracious, even in love 
 affairs. 
 
 " I am a thoughtless animal !" said Lewis at the dinner- 
 table. " There is a letter from Lucy ! Open it don't 
 mind me ! I will crack your nuts for you while you read 
 it." 
 
 There was a troubled look in Sarah's eye when she laid 
 it down. " Lucy says they are certainly coining North this 
 year that we may look for them in a week from the date 
 of this. This is rather sooner than mother expected them. 
 Her housecleaning is late this season, in consequence of hei 
 rheumatic spell in May." 
 
 " Let them come straight here ! What should prevent 
 them? There is an abundance of room for them baby, 
 nurse, and all. It will be a grand arrangement !" said 
 Lewis, heartily. 
 
 Sarah was backward in replying. " Father and mother 
 may object. I would not wound them by interference with 
 their guests." 
 
 " I will answer that mother will thank us to take care oi 
 *hem until her scrubbing and scalding are done. And Lucy 
 would not be willing to risk her baby's health in a damp 
 house." 
 
 " I will go and see mother to-morrow about it," concluded 
 Sarah. She still appeared dubious as to the expediency of 
 the proposed step, a though tfulness that did not wear away 
 during the whole evening.
 
 HUSKS. 161 
 
 The Bensons had not visited New York the preceding 
 year. They were detained at the South by a combination 
 of causes, the principal of which was the long and fatal ill 
 ness of Philip's mother. Lucy had written repeatedly of her 
 intense desire to see her home once more, declaiming agaiust 
 " the providences that had thwarted their projects, like an im- 
 patient, unreasonable child. 
 
 " Philip says it is not convenient for him to go just yet," 
 said her letter to her sister, " and that our part of the eoun- 
 try is as healthy as Saratoga itself ; but I have vowed that 
 I wiU not wait one day beyond the time I have set. It seta 
 me wild to think of being in Broadway again of visiting 
 and shopping, and seeing you all. We have been so dull 
 here since Mrs. Benson's death, and Philip is as solemn as a 
 judge. One of his married sisters will stay with the old 
 gentleman while we are away. O Sarah! I am sick of 
 housekeeping and baby-nursing ! It will do well enough for 
 me when I need spectacles and a wig ; but now, while I am 
 young enough to enjoy life, it is insufferable /" 
 
 " Not very domestic, is she ?" observed Lewis, folding up 
 the letter, which Sarah had handed him. " Ah ! it is not 
 every man who has such a gem of a wife as I have ! It ap- 
 pears to me that the married women of these days are not 
 satisfied unless they have a string of beaux as long as that 
 of a popular single belle. How is it, little one ? Do you 
 ever catch yourself wishing that your husband were not such 
 an old-fashioned piece of constancy, and would give some 
 other fellow a chance to say a pretty thing, when you are in 
 company ?' 
 
 " I do not complain," said Sarah, demurely. 
 
 " Not in words, perhaps ; your patience is wonderful in 
 every thing. But how do you feel when you see your old 
 neighbor, Mrs. Bond, waltzing every set with the gayest 
 gallant in *he ball-room, while your jailor does not like to
 
 162 THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 have you 'polk' at all, and favors your dancing only wilh 
 men whom he knows to be respectable." 
 
 " I feel that Mr. Hammond is a sensible man, and careful 
 of Lis wife's reputation, even in trifles, while Mr. Bond " 
 
 " Go on ! finish your sentence !" 
 
 " And his lady are a well-matched pair !" 
 
 Much as she disliked Victoria, and knowing that she was 
 hated still by her, Sarah deemed it a necessary and common 
 act of courtsey to her sister's friend to call and apprise her 
 of Lucy's probable visit. 
 
 " It is not convenient for mother to receive them for 
 a week yet, on account of certain household arrange- 
 ments," she stated, in making known the object of her 
 visit to her ancient enemy. " So you will find Lucy at our 
 house, where her friends will be received as if they were 
 my own." 
 
 " You are very polite, I am sure !" replied Mrs. Bond, 
 smothering her displeasure at Sarah's studied civility, and 
 noting, with her quick, reptile perceptions, that she was to 
 be tolerated as she fancied Sarah would imply, merely as 
 Lucy's early associate. " And the Bensons are to be with 
 you 1 1 shall call immediately upon their arrival. Poor, dear 
 Lucy ! I long to see her. She has had a vast deal of trouble 
 since her marriage has she not ?" 
 
 " Except the death of her mother-in-law, she has had 
 nothing to trouble her that I have heard of," answered Sarah, 
 rising to go. 
 
 " My dear creature ! what do you call the wear and tear 
 of managing a husband, and a pack of unruly servants, and 
 looking after a baby ? And she was such a belle ! I wonder 
 if she is much broken !" 
 
 " Come and see !" 
 
 Mrs Hammond was at the parlor door. 
 
 " I will most assuredly ! llow do you like their being
 
 HUSK'S. 163 
 
 quartered upon you ? What does that pattern husband of 
 yours say to this ?" 
 
 " Madain !" said Sarah, surprised and offended by the rude 
 query. 
 
 " Oh ! I don't mean that it would not be very delightful 
 for you to have yo.ur sister with you ; but there was a fool- 
 ish rumor, about the time of your marriage, that you and Mr. 
 Benson had some kind of a love-passage, down in the coun- 
 try ; and I thought that Mr. Hammond, with his particularly 
 nice notions, might retain an unpleasant recollection of the 
 story, which would prevent him from being on brotherly 
 terms with his old rival. Men are terribly unreasonable 
 mortals, and perfect Turks in jealousy ! We cannot be too 
 careful not to provoke their suspicious." 
 
 Not for the universe would Sarah have betrayed any feel- 
 ing at this insolence, save a righteous and dignified resent- 
 ment at its base insinuations ; but the ungovernable blood 
 . streamed in crimson violence to her temples, and her voice 
 shook when she would have held it firm. 
 
 " Mr. Hammond is not one to be influenced by malicious 
 gossip, Mrs. Bond, if, indeed, the report you have taken the 
 liberty of repeating' "!vas ever circulated except by its author. 
 I cannot thank you for your warning, as I recognize no occa- 
 sion for jealousy in my conduct or character. I am account- 
 able for my actions to my conscience and my husband, and I 
 release you from what you have assumed to be your duty of 
 watching and criticising my personal affairs. Good-morning." 
 
 " I struck the sore spot ! no doubt of that !" soliloquized 
 Mrs. Bond, recalling Sarah's start of pain and blush at the, 
 indelicate allusion to Philip Benson. " Tiiat woman stirs up 
 all the bile in my system if I talk two minutes with her. If 
 there were half the material to work upon in that vain, weak 
 Lucy, that there is in this sister, I would have my revenge. 
 As for Lewis Hammond, he is a love-sick fool !"
 
 164 THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 Sarah's cheeks had not lost their flush, nor had her heart 
 ceased its angry throbbings, when she reached home. In 
 the solitude of her chamber, she summoned strength and 
 resolution to ask herself the question, so long avoided, shun- 
 ned, as she had imagined, in prudence, as she now began tc 
 fear, in dread of a truthful reply. 
 
 When she married Lewis Hammond, she loved another. 
 Fearful as was this sin, it would be yet more terrible were 
 she now to discover a lurking fondness, an unconquered 
 weakness for that other, in the heart of the trusted wife, the 
 mother who, from that guilty bosom, nourished the little 
 being that was, as yet, the embodiment of unsullied purity 
 It was a trying and a perilous task, to unfold deliberately, 
 to pry searchingly into the record of that one short month 
 that had held all the bloom and fragrance of her life's spring 
 season ; to linger over souvenirs and compare sensations 
 a painful and revolting process ; but, alas ! the revulsion waa 
 not at memories of that olden time ; and as this appalling 
 conviction dawned upon her, her heart died within her. 
 
 The nurse was arranging Baby Belle for the possible re- 
 ception of her unknown aunt and uncle, that afternoon, when 
 Mrs. Hammond came into the nursery, her face as pale and 
 set as marble, and silently lifted the child from the girl's lap 
 to her own. For one instant her cheek was laid against the 
 velvet of the babe's ; the ringlets of fair hair mingled with 
 her dark locks, before she set about completing its unfinish- 
 ed toilette. With a nicety and care that would have seem- 
 ed overstrained, had other than the mother's hands beeu 
 busied in the work, the stockings and slippers were fitted on 
 the plump feet ; the sunny curls rolled around the fingers of 
 the tiring woman, and brushed back from the brow; the 
 worked cambric robe lowered cautiously over the head, lest 
 the effect of the coiffure should be marred ; the sleeves loop 
 ed up with bands of coral and gold, a necklace, belonging to
 
 HTTSKS. 165 
 
 the same set, clasped around the baby's white throat, and 
 she was ready for survey 
 
 " Now, Baby Belle and mamma will go down to meet 
 papa !" 
 
 And with the little one still clinging to her neck, she met, 
 in the lower hall, her husband ushering in Lucy aud Pliilip 
 Benson.
 
 16ft THE EMPTY HEARTJ OB, 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 BREAKFAST was kept back an hour next morning to await 
 Lucy's tardy appearance. " She was sadly wearied with 
 her journey," apologized Philip, and Sarah begged that she 
 would keep her room and have her meals sent up to her 
 an hospitable offer, which Mr. Benson negatived. 
 
 Lucy did look tired and unrefreshed, and, to speak nioro 
 plainly, very cross. Her hair, in its dryest state of pale 
 yellow, was combed straight back above her temples ; her 
 skin was sallow ; her wrapper carelessly put on, and its dead 
 white unrolieved by even a bow of ribbon at the throat. In- 
 voluntarily Lewis glanced from the uninviting picture to his 
 household deity, in her neat breakfast-dress of gray silb 
 faced with pink, her glossy hair and tranquil features, and 
 said to himself, in secret triumph, "Which is now the beauty ? 
 None of your trumpery ornamental articles for me !" 
 
 Philip's eyes were as keen as his host's, and the probabili- 
 ty is that he instituted a similar comparison, however well 
 his pride succeeded in concealing the act and its result. 
 Cutting short his wife's querulous plaints of the discomforts 
 of travel, and the horrors of nervous sleeplessness, he open- 
 ed a conversation with Mr. Hammond in the subdued, per- 
 fectly-managed tones Sarah remembered so well, selecting 
 such topics as would interest a business man and a citizen 
 of a commercial metropolis. Lucy pouted, and applied her- 
 self for consolation to her breakfast. 
 
 With a strange mingling of emotions, Sarah listened to
 
 HUSKS. 167 
 
 thfe dialogue between the gentlemen. She was anxious that 
 Lewis should acquit himself creditably. Brilliant, like 
 Philip, he could never be ; but in sterling sense, not many- 
 men were his superiors. She had never had cause to be 
 ashamed of him ; for one so unpretending and judicious 
 \vas not liable to make himself ridiculous. Whence, then, 
 the solicitude with which she hung upon his every word ? 
 her disappointment when he did not equal the ideal reply 
 she had fashioned, as she heard the words that called it 
 forth ? Several times she joined in the conversation, inva- 
 riably to corroborate Lewis's assertions, or to supply some- 
 thing he had omitted to state. Philip Benson was a student 
 of human nature. Was his mind sufficiently abstracted 
 from his domestic annoyances to divine the motive that 
 Sarah herself only perceived afterwards in solitary self- 
 examination ? Not love of, or admiration for the intrinsic 
 excellence of the man whose name she bore ; not fear lest 
 his modesty should lessen his merits in the eyes of others ; 
 but a selfish dread that his acute interlocutoi-, discerning in 
 him nothing likely to attract or win the affection of a woman 
 such as he knew her to be, might guess her true reason for 
 marrying Mr. Hammond. The timorous progeny of one 
 guilty secret can only be numbered by the minutes during 
 which it is borne in the bosom. Like the fabled Lacedae- 
 monian boy, Sarah carried the gnawing horror with a forti- 
 tude that looked like cheerfulness. Habit cannot lighten 
 the weight of a clinging curse ; but strength and hardness 
 come in time, if the burdened one is not early crushed by 
 his load. 
 
 The sisters spent most of the day in Lucy's room ; the 
 latter stretched upon the lounge, as she declared, "com- 
 pletely xised up." Mrs. Hunt came around early in the 
 forenoon, and into her sympathizing ears the spoiled child 
 poured the story of her woes and wrongs ; Sarah sitting by
 
 168 THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 with a swelling, rebellious heart. "With indecorous contempt 
 for one of the most binding laws of the married state in- 
 violable secrecy as to the faults of the other party to the 
 momentous compact mother and daughter compared notes 
 upon their husbands, and criticised the class generally as the 
 most wrong-headed, perverse, and dictatorial of all tht 
 necessary evils of society. 
 
 Mrs. Benson, the elder, and her pleasure-loving daughter 
 in-law had differed seriously several months before the death 
 of the former. Philip, while espousing his wife's cause to 
 the rest of his family, had, in private, taken her to task for 
 what he considered objectionable in her conduct ; her heads 
 of offence being mainly extravagant love of gay company, 
 and the gallant attentions of gentleman-visitors ; neglect of 
 dress and all efforts to please, when there was no company 
 by ; and a decided indisposition to share in the household 
 duties, which his mother's increasing feebleness made 
 onerous to her. 
 
 " Ah, mother !'* sighed the interesting complainant, raising 
 herself to shake up her pillow, then sinking again upon it. 
 "If girls only realized what is before them when they 
 marry, few would be brave enough to change their con- 
 dition. When I picture to myself what I was at home a 
 petted darling never allowed to inconvenience myself 
 when it could possibly be avoided ; courted in society ; free 
 as air and light-hearted as a chilo ; and then think of all 
 that I have endured from the unkindness of strangers, and 
 the well the want of sympathy in him for whom I had 
 given up my dear old home and friends I ask myself why 
 T did not remain single !" 
 
 The prudent matchmaker shook her head. " Marriage is 
 a lottery, they say, my dear ; but I am very sure that single 
 life is a blank. You had no fortune, and in the event of 
 your father's death would have been almost destitute- I am
 
 HUSKS. 169 
 
 sorry that your father did not insist upon Mr. Benson's 
 giving you your own establishment at once. I hope, now 
 the old lady is out of the way, you will have things more 
 according to your notions." 
 
 " Don't you believe that ! As if there were not two 
 sisters-in-law, living but four miles off, and driving -over 
 every other day to ' see how pa is.' That means, to see 
 whether Lucy is letting things go to wreck and ruin. I 
 understand their spiteful ways ! Philip shuts his ears when 
 I talk about them ; but I am determined that I will not bear 
 much more meddling !" 
 
 Decidedly, Lucy Benson married was a woeful declension 
 from the seraphic spinster depicted in our earlier chapters ; 
 but, as in time past, so in time present and to come, the 
 sparkling sugar, whose integrity and sweetness appeared 
 indestructible, while it was kept dry and cool, if dampened, 
 undergoes an. acetous fermentation, and the delicate sweet- 
 meat, exposed to the air at a high temperature, becomes 
 speedily a frothing mass, evolving pungent gases. The 
 pretty doll who anticipates, in the connubial state, one long 
 fete-daj of adoration received, and benign condescension 
 dispensed, is as certain to awake from this dream as from 
 any other, and upon the temper in which she sustains the 
 disenchantment, depends a vast proportion of her future 
 welfare and peace. 
 
 Lucy's ^behavior to her babe was a mixture of childish 
 fondling and neglect. Fortunately, the little " Hunt's" 
 special attendant was an elderly woman, long established a^ 
 'Maumer" in the Benson family, and her devotion to her 
 charge prevented any present evil effects from his mother's 
 incompetence or carelessness. Philip's pride in, and love 
 for his bey were extreme. When he came in that evening, 
 Sarah chanced to be in the nursery adjoining her chamber, 
 watching and inciting the two babies to a game of romps. 
 8
 
 170 THE EMPTY H E A B T J OK, 
 
 She held one on each knee, the nurses standing by in 
 amused gratification. 
 
 " That is surely my little man's voice !" said Philip, as he 
 and Lewis came up the stairs. 
 
 " Let me see !" and Mr. Hammond peeped into the play- 
 oon>. " Walk hi !" he continued, throwing the door wide 
 open. " Isn't there a pair of them ?" 
 
 " And a nurse worthy of the twain !" replied Philip. He> 
 stooped to the invitation of the lifted arms, fluttering, as if 
 the owner would fly to his embrace. " What do you say 
 of him, aunty? Is he not a passable boy?" 
 
 " More than passable ! he , is a noble-looking fellow. He 
 resembles you, I think," said Sarah, quietly. 
 
 " Do you hear that, Hammond ? Your wife pronounces 
 me ' more than passable a noble-looking fellow !' So much 
 for an adroit hint. Is she given to flattery ?" 
 
 " Not she !" returned Lewis, laughing. " She never said 
 as much as that for my looks in all her life. I have one con- 
 solation, however ; the less she says the more she means !" 
 He went into the dressing-room, and Philip, still holding the 
 child, seated himself by Sarah. 
 
 " How odd, yet how familiar it seems, to be With you 
 once more, my good sister ! What a succession of mis- 
 chances has made us virtual strangers for many months 
 past ! I had almost despaired of ever holding friendly con- 
 verse with you again. I wonder if your recollections 
 of our visit to Aunt Sarah are as vivid as mine. Do 
 you remember that last sad, yet dear day on the Deal 
 Beach ?" 
 
 Baby Belle was standing in her mother's lap, her soft, 
 warm arms about her neck ; and around the frail, sinking 
 human heart invisible arms, as warm and close, were up- 
 holding and strengthening it in the moment of mortal 
 weakness.
 
 
 HUSKS. 171 
 
 " Very distinctly. Many changes have come to us both 
 since then." 
 
 "To me very many! I have grown older in heart than 
 in years." Then, evidently fearing that she might other- 
 wise interpret his meaning, he subjoined : " We have had a 
 heavy bereavement in our household, you know. I'owr 
 changes have all been happy ones. The enthusiastic, rest- 
 less girl has ripened into the more sedate, yet more blessed 
 wife and mother." 
 
 Press your sweet mouth to the convulsed lips, Baby 
 Belle! veil with your silky curls the tell-tale features, 
 whose agitation would bewilder, if not betray ! Philip was 
 stroking the head of his boy, and did not see the uneasiness 
 of his companion. * 
 
 " Have you heard of Uncle Nathan's death ?" she asked, 
 clearing her throat. 
 
 He looked surprised at the inquiry. "Yes! Aunt Sarah 
 wrote immediately to my father." 
 
 " Ah ! I had forgotten that they were brothers. My 
 memory is treacherous. Excuse me ! I am wanted in the 
 dining-room !" 
 
 Lewis met her just outside the door, and stopped her to 
 bestow the evening kiss he had not cared to offer in Philip's 
 presence. 
 
 " Why, you are as rosy as a peony !" he said, jestingly. 
 " Has Benson been paying you compliments, in return for 
 yours to him ? I must look after you two, if you carry on 
 at this rate." 
 
 With a look he had reason subsequently to recall, but 
 which only pleased him at the time, she raised his hand to 
 her lips a look of humility, gratitude, and appeal, such as 
 one might cast upon a slighted benefactor and vanished. 
 
 A merry family party gathered around the Hammond's 
 generous table, that afternoon. All the Hunts wei e there
 
 172 THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 from the father down to Jeannie, who was fast shooting up 
 into a tall girl, somewhat pert in manner, but lovable despite 
 this, at times, unpleasant foible. 
 
 " Sister Lucy," she said, after an interval of silence, 
 " Ellen West said, at school, to-day, that you were a great 
 belle when you were a young lady ; were you ?" 
 
 " You must not ask me, Jeannie !" The old smile of 
 conscious beauty stole into Lucy's cheeks. 
 
 " Was she, sister ?" Jeannie referred the case to Sarah. 
 
 " Yes, my dear, she was very beautiful," replied the latter, 
 simply. 
 
 " She isn't now not so very handsome, I mean no hand- 
 somer than you are, sister !" 
 
 " Jeannie ! you forget yourself!" interposed Mrs. Hunt. 
 
 " Why, mamma, I did not intend to be rude ! Only I 
 thought that belles were always the prettiest ladies that 
 could be found anywhere." 
 
 " By no means !" corrected Lewis, willing to help his 
 wife's pet out of a scrape. "There are many descriptions 
 of belles, Jeannie : handsome, rich, fast, and intellectual." 
 
 " And as papa was not rich, I suppose you were either 
 fast or intellectual, sister Lucy !" persisted the child. 
 
 " I thought her pretty fast when I tried to catch her," 
 said Philip. " Mrs. Hunt, Mrs. Hammond, Mrs. Benson, 
 have you ladies decided in the course of to-day's congress 
 what watering-place is to be made the fashion by our 
 clique next month?" 
 
 Mrs. Hunt replied that they inclined to Newport ; princi- 
 pally on account of Lucy and the children, who would aU 
 be benefited by the bathing. 
 
 Lucy was sure that she should tire of Saratoga or the 
 Catskills in a week, whereas she adored the ocean. 
 
 " What says Madame Discretion ?" said Lewis, merrily, 
 to his wife.
 
 HUSKS. 173 
 
 "Except that it would break up the family party, I had 
 rather stay at home as long as it is prudent to keep the 
 baby in town ; then, if you could go with us, spend a month 
 at some mountain farm-house or sea-side cottage," she 
 answered. 
 
 "Hear! hear !" commanded Philip. "Behold a modern 
 wedded dame who prefers seclusion with her liege lord to 
 gayety without him! The age of miracles is returning !" . 
 
 " Is the case, then, so anomalous ?" retorted Sarah, the red 
 Bpot in her cheek alone testifying to her embarrassment. 
 " Are your Southern matrons all public characters ?" 
 
 "I can answer that!" said Lucy. "They are slaves! 
 housekeeping machines nothing better !" 
 
 " How many more weak places are there in this crust of 
 family chit-chat, I should like to be informed !" thought the 
 annoyed and uninitiated Hammond. "Here goes for the 
 spot where there is no danger of anybody's breaking in !" 
 He spoke aloud. " A tempting proposal was made to me 
 this morning. It is considered advisable for one of our firm 
 to go abroad for a couple of months, perhaps longer, to 
 divide his time among the principal manufacturing districts 
 of England, Scotland, and France. Expenses paid by the 
 firm, and the term of absence indefinitely prolonged, if the 
 traveller wishes it. Mr. Marlow is tired of crossing the 
 ocean, and presses me to accept the mission." 
 
 " What did you tell him ?" 
 
 It was Sarah who spoke in a startled voice that drew 
 general notice to her alarmed face. Her concern was a de- 
 licious tribute to her husband's self-love, if he possessed 
 such a quality. At least he loved her well enough to be 
 pleased at her manifest reluctance to have him leave her. 
 
 " I told him that I must ask my wife," said he in a meek 
 tone, belied by the humorous twinkle in his eye, and loving 
 half-smile about his mouth. " See what it is to be one under
 
 174 THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 authority, Benson ! A man dare not conclude an ordinary 
 business transaction without the approval of the powers 
 that be." 
 
 When Sarah accompanied her sister to her chamber that 
 night, the passee belle put a direct question. 
 
 " Tell me, Sarah, are you as much in love with Mr. Ham- 
 mond as you seem to be, or is it all put on for the benefit of 
 outsiders ?" 
 
 " I am not apt to do any thing for the sate of mere show ; 
 nor do I care for the opinion of ' outsiders,' as you call 
 them," rejoined Sarah, amazed at the cool audacity of the 
 inquiry, and disposed to resent Lucy's confident expectation 
 that she would avow the cheat, if such there were, in her 
 deportment. 
 
 " You used to be shockingly independent, I know. What 
 a ridiculously honest little puss you were ! How you de- 
 spised all our pretty arts and necessary affectations ! How 
 you hated our economical mother's second-best furniture and 
 dinners ! I don't believe Victoria West has ever forgiven 
 you for the way in which you used to take to pieces what 
 you styled our ' surface talk and surface life !' I thought, 
 however, that you had discovered by this time, that one 
 cannot live in the world without deceiving herself or other 
 people ; I prefer making fools to being one. Heigh-ho ! this 
 life is a very unsatisfactory business at the best. What a 
 heavenly collar that is of yours ! One thing I do wish, and 
 that is that my husband were half as fond of me, or as 
 qjood to me, as Lewis is to you !"
 
 175 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 LEWIS HAMMOND had thrown the whole weight of his in- 
 fluence in the family conclave, into the Newport scale ; and 
 to this popular resort Sarah went, in July, in company with 
 the Bensons, her mother and Jeannie, who was made one of 
 the party at Lewis's request and expense. The generous 
 fellow acted in conformity with conscience and judgment in 
 this temporary exile of his treasures ; and, consistent in his 
 purpose of rendering it a pleasure excursion to his wife, he 
 made very light of his prospects of lonely widowerhood, rep- 
 resenting, instead, the benefit she and the babe would draw 
 from the sea-breezes, and his enhanced enjoyment of his 
 weekly visits, because they were so far apart. He went with 
 them to the shore, at their general flitting, and spent two 
 days ; saw for himself that those whose comfort was nearest 
 his heart were properly accommodated ; privately feed 
 chambermaid and waiter, with hints of future emolument 
 to accrue to them from special regard to the wants of 
 Mrs. Hammond and her infant, and returned to town with 
 the unenviable consciousness of having left at least three- 
 fourths of himself behind him. 
 
 A brisk rush of business beguiled him of the aching, hoi , 
 low void for a few hours after he got back. N"ot even Baby 
 Belle s accents could be heard amid that roar and whir. But 
 at luncheon -time, while waiting for his order to be filled at a 
 restaurant, the dreary, solitary void overtook him a fit of 
 unmistakable home-sickness, that yet caused him to recoil at
 
 176 THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 the idea of entering the deserted house un-town, when even- 
 ing should oblige him to seek a lodging. How Avere Sarah 
 and baby -getting along without him ? He was afraid that 
 jiicy was not, in all respects, as congenial a companion aa 
 e could have wished his wife to have, and that Mrs. Hunt's 
 undisguised worldliness, her foolish love of fashion and dis 
 play, would often annoy and mortify her sensible and right- 
 nidging daughter. Benson was capital company, though 
 a gentleman every inch of him! and very friendly to Sarah. 
 But for her reserved manners he would act the part of a 
 real brother to her ; in any case, he would be kind, and see 
 that she wanted for nothing. 
 
 Then shot into his head by some unseen and unaccount- 
 able machinery there darted across his mind a fragment of 
 a conversation he had overheard, at entering his parlor, the 
 day before the Bensons left. Philip and Lucy were standing 
 before a miniature painting of Sarah and her child, completed 
 and brought home a short time previous. Although seem- 
 ingly intent upon the picture, their conversation must have 
 strayed far from the starting-point, for the first sentence that 
 reached the unintentional listener was a tart, scornful speech 
 from Lucy, that could by no stretch of the imagination be 
 made to apply to her sister. 
 
 " If you admire her so much, why did you not marry her 
 when you had the opportunity ? She was willing enough !" 
 
 " Take care you do not make me regret that I did not do 
 BO !" was Philip's stern rejoinder as he turned from her. 
 
 The change of position showed him that Lewis was pres- 
 ent, and for a second his inimitable self-possession wavered. 
 Recovering himself, he reverted to the picture, and called 
 upon his host to decide some disputed point in its artistic ex- 
 ecution which he and Lucy were discussing. 
 
 "Poor fellow! he has learned that all is not. gold that glit- 
 ters !" mused Lewis to the newspaper he was pretending to
 
 HUSKS. 177 
 
 read. "Lucy had a high reputation for amiability before 
 she was Mrs. Benson. There is no touchstone like the wed 
 ding-ring to bring out one's true qualities." 
 
 He sat with his back to the entrance of the saloon, and 
 the table directly behind him was now taken possession of 
 by three or four new arrivals all gentlemen, and apparently 
 on familiar terms with one' another. They called for a boun- 
 tiful lunch, including wine, and plunged into a lively, rather 
 noisy talk. Lewis closed his ears, and applied himself in 
 earnest to his paper. He started presently at a word he 
 could have declared was his name. Restraining the impulse 
 to look around and see who of the group was known to him, 
 he yet could not help trying to determine this point by 
 their voices. One, a thin falsetto, he fancied belonged to 
 George Bond, who was no more of a favorite with him than 
 was his better half with Sarah. Lewis regarded him as a 
 conceited rattle-pate, whose sole talent lay in the art of 
 making money whose glory was his purse. " Why should 
 he be talking about me here ?. Nonsense ; I was mistaken !" 
 and another page of the newspaper was turned. 
 
 " When I leave my wife at Newport, or anywhere else, 
 in the particular and brotherly care of one of her former 
 flames) publish me as a crazy fool !" said the wiry voice 
 again, almost in the reader's ear. 
 
 " He doesn't know old stories as well as you do, perhaps," 
 remarked some one. 
 
 " I should think not ! When my wife pulls the wool over 
 \ny eyes in that style, horsewhip me around town, and I 
 won't cry ' Quarter !' Sister's husband or not, I'll be 
 oanged if I would have him in my house for two weeks, and 
 he is such a good-looking dog, too !" 
 
 He stopped, as if his neighbor had jogged him, as Lewis 
 looked over his shoulder in the direction of the gossip. A 
 dead and awkward silence ensued, ended at last by the 
 8*
 
 178 THE EMPTY HEART; OK, 
 
 pertinent observation that the " waiter -was a lonf time 
 bringing their lunch." 
 
 In a maze of angry doubt and incredulity as to the evi- 
 dence of his senses and suspicions,. Lewis finished his meal, 
 and stalked out past the subdued and now voracious quar 
 tette, favoring them with a searching look as he went by, 
 which they sustained with great meekness. All the after 
 noon a heavy load lay upon his heai't an indefinable dread 
 he dared not analyze ; a forboding he would not face, yet 
 could not dismiss. 
 
 " You are blue, Lewis !" said Mr. Marlow, kindly, as they 
 started up town together. " This is the worst of having a 
 wife and children ; you miss them so terribly when they are 
 away. But you will get used to it. Make up your mind at 
 the eleventh hour to cross the water, and stay abroad three 
 months. You will be surprised to find how easy your mind 
 will become after a couple of weeks." 
 
 " I am satisfied, sir, without making personal trial of the 
 matter, that men become inured to misery, which seemed 
 in the beginning to be insupportable." 
 
 Mr. Marlow laughed, and they separated. 
 
 Lewis sighed as he looked up at the blinds of his house, 
 shut fast and grim, and still more deeply as he admitted 
 himself to the front hall, that echoed dismally the sound of 
 the closing door. His next movement was to walk into the 
 parlor, throw open a shutter, and let in the evening light 
 upon the portraits of the dear absent ones. There he stood, 
 scanning their faces eyes and soul full of love and long- 
 Ing until the mellow glow passed away and left them in 
 darkness. 
 
 The comfortless evening repast was over, and he betook 
 himself to the library, Sarah's favorite room, as it was also 
 his. Her low easy-chair stood in its usual place opposite 
 his at the centre-table, but her work-basket was missing ;
 
 HUSKS. 179 
 
 likewise the book, with its silver marker, that he was wont 
 to see lying side by side with some volume he had selected 
 for his own reading. But one lay there now, and there was 
 an odd choking in his throat as he read the title on the 
 back. He had expressed a wish for it in Sarah's hearing 
 some days before, and her delicate forethought had left it 
 here as a solace and keepsake, one that should, while re- 
 minding him of her, yet charm away sad feelings in her 
 absence. Even in the exterior of the gift, she had been re- 
 gardful of his taste. The binding was solid and rich ; no 
 gaudy coloring or tawdry gilt ; the thick smooth paper and 
 clear type were a luxury to touch and sight. Lewis was 
 no sentimentalist, in the ordinary acceptation of the term, yet 
 he kissed the name his wife had traced upon the fly-leaf ere 
 he sat down to employ the evening as she by her gift tacitly 
 requested him to do. But it was a useless attempt. The 
 book was not in fault, and he -should have read it intently, 
 if only because she had bestowed it ; still, the hand that 
 held it sank lower and lower, until it rested upon his knee, 
 and the reader was the thinker instead. 
 
 The most prosaic of human beings have their seasons of 
 reverie pleasing or mournful, which are, unknown often 
 to themselves, the poetry of their lives. Such was the 
 drama Lewis Hammond was now rehearsing in his retro- 
 Bpective dreams. 
 
 The wan and weary mother, whom he remembered as 
 always clothed in widow's weeds, and toiling in painful 
 drudgery to maintain herself and her only boy; who had 
 smiled and wept, rendered thanksgivings and uttered prayers 
 for strength, alternately, as she heard Mr. Marlow's propo- 
 sal to protect and help the lad through the world that had 
 borne so hardly upon her ; who had strained him to her 
 bosom, and shed fast, hot tears of speechless anguish at 
 their parting a farewell that was never to be forgotten in
 
 180 TUE EMPTY IIE'AKT; OR, 
 
 any meeting on this side of eternity ; this was the vision, 
 hers the palladium of love, that had nerved him for the close 
 wrestle with fortune, guarded him amid the burning plough- 
 shares of temptation, carried him unscathed past the hun- 
 dred mouths of hell, that gape upon the innocent and un- 
 wary in ail large cities. Cold and unsusceptible as he was 
 deemed in society, he kept unpolluted in his breast a fresh 
 living stream of genuine romantic feeling, "such as we are 
 apt to think went out of fashion aye, and out of being 
 with the belted knights of yore; wealth he had vowed 
 never to squander, never reveal, until he should pour it, 
 without one thought of self-reserve, upon his wife! lie 
 never hinted this to a living creature before the moment 
 came for revealing it to the object of his choice. He was a 
 " predestined old bachelor !" an " infidel to love and the 
 sex," said and believed the gay and frivolous, and he let 
 them talk. His ideal woman, his mother's representative 
 and successor the beauty and crown of his existence was 
 too sacred for the gaze and comment of indifferent world- 
 lings. For her he labored and studied and lived; confident 
 in a fatalistic belief that, at the right moment, the dream 
 would become a reality the phantasm leave her cloudy 
 height for his arms. 
 
 Love so beautiful and intense as this, like snow in its 
 purity, like fire in its fervor, cannot be won to full and elo- 
 quent utterance but by answering love a sentiment identi- 
 cal in kind, if not equal in degree ; and Sarah Hammond's 
 estimate of her husband's affection was, in consequence of 
 this want in herself, cruelly unjust in its coldness and pov- 
 erty. His patience with her transient fits of gloom or way- 
 wardness in the early months of their married life; his 
 noble forgetfulness of her faults, and grateful acknowledg- 
 ment of her most trifling effort to please him ; his unceasing 
 care ; his lavish bounty all these she attributed too much
 
 181 
 
 to natural amiability and conscientious views of duty ; too 
 little to his warm regard for her personally. In this per- 
 suasion she had copied his conduct in externals so far as she 
 could; and applauding observers adjudged the mock gem 
 to be a fair and equitable equivalent for the rare pearl she 
 had received. 
 
 Lest this digression, into which I have been inadvertently 
 betrayed, should mislead any with the idea that I havo 
 some design of dignifying into a hero this respectable, but 
 very commonplace personage, return we to him as he hears 
 eleven o'clock rung out by the monitor on the mantel, and 
 says to himself, " Baby Belle has been asleep these' three 
 hours, and mamma, caring nothing for beaux and ball-room, 
 is preparing to follow her." 
 
 Beaux and ball-room! Pshaw! why should the nonsensi- 
 cal talk of that jacknapes, George Bond, come to his mind 
 just then ? The whole tenor of the remarks that succeeded 
 the name he imagined was his disproved that imagination. 
 But 'who had left his wife at Newport in the care of a 
 "good-looking" brother-in-law? wAohad been domesticated 
 in the family of the deluded husband for a fortnight ? 
 
 Pshaw again ! What concern had he with their scandal- 
 ous, doubtless slanderous tattle ? 
 
 " Why did you not marry her when you had the oppor- 
 tunity ? She was willing enough !" 
 
 Could Lucy have spoken thus of her sister ? Sarah was 
 barely acquainted with Philip Benson when Lucy wedded 
 him, having met him but once prior to the wedding-day at 
 the house of her aunt in the country, from which place his 
 own letter, penned by her father's sick-bed, recalled her. 
 How far from his thoughts then was the rapid train of 
 consequences that followed upon this preliminary act of 
 their intercourse ! 
 
 Did that scoundrel Bond say " Haniuioud ?" It was not
 
 182 THE EMPTY HEART; OB, 
 
 ft common name, and came quite distinctly to his ears in the 
 high, unpleasant key he se disliked. A flush of honest 
 shame arose to his forehead at this uncontrollable straying 
 of his ideas to a topic so disagreeable, and so often rejected 
 by his mind. 
 
 " As if even had I been the person insulted by his pity 
 I would believe one syllable he said of a woman as far above 
 him in virtue and intellect, in every thing good and lovable, 
 as the heavens are above the earth ! I would despise my- 
 self as much as I do him, if I could lend my ear for an in- 
 stant to so degrading a whisper ! I wish I had faced him 
 ftnd demanded the whole tale; yet no! that would have 
 been rash and absurd. Better as it is ! By to-morrow, I 
 shall laugh at, my ridiculous fancies !" 
 
 " Scratch ! scratch ! scratch !" The house was so still in 
 the approaching midnight that the slight noise caused him 
 a shock and quiver in the excited state of his nerves. The 
 interruption was something between a scrape and a rap, 
 three times repeated, and proceeding, apparently, from the 
 bookcase at his right. What could it be ? He had never 
 seen or heard of a mouse on the premises, nor did the sound 
 much resemble the nibbling of that animal. Ashamed of 
 the momentary thrill he had experienced, he remained still 
 and collected, awaiting its repetition. 
 
 " Scratch ! scratch ! rap !" It was in the bookcase in 
 the lower part where were drawers shut in by solid doors. 
 These he had never explored, but knew that his wife kept 
 pamphlets and papers in them. He opened the outer doors 
 cautiously, and listened again, until assured by the scratch- ' 
 ing that his search was in the right direction. There 
 were three drawers, two deep, the third and upper shal- 
 low. This he drew out and examined. It contained wri- 
 ting-paper and envelopes, all in good order. Nor was there 
 any sign of the intruder amongst the loose music and peri-
 
 H TJ 8 K 8 . 183 
 
 odicals in the second. The lower one was looted no 
 doubt accidentally, for he had never seen Sarah lock up 
 any thing except jewels and money. Their servants were 
 honest, and she had no cause to fear investigation on his part, 
 
 Feeling, rather than arguing thus, he removed the drawer 
 above, leaving exposed the locked one, and thrust his hand 
 down into it. It encountered the polished surface of a 
 Email box or case, which he was in the act of drawing 
 through the aperture left by the second drawer, when some- 
 thing dark and swift ran over his hand and up his sleeve. 
 With a violent start, he dashed the casket to the floor, and 
 another energetic fling of his arm dislodged the mouse. His 
 first care was to pursue and kill it ; his next to examine into 
 the damage it had indirectly produced. The box ebony, 
 lined with sandal-wood had fallen with such force as to 
 loosen the spring, and lay on its side wide open ; its treas- 
 ures strewed over the carpet. They were neither numer- 
 ous, nor in themselves valuable. A bouquet of dried flowers, 
 enveloped in silver papei 1 , lay nearest Lewis's hand, as he 
 knelt to pick up the scattered articles. The paper was tied 
 about the stalks of the flowers with black ribbon, and to this 
 was attached a card : " Will Miss Sarah accept this trifling 
 token of regard from one who is her stanch friend, and 
 hopes, in time, to have a nearer claim upon her esteem ?" 
 
 The hand was familiar to the reader as Philip Benson's. 
 Why should Sarah preserve this, while the many floral to- 
 kens of his love which she had received were flung away 
 when withered like worthless weeds ? The pang of jeal 
 ousy was new sharp as the death-wrench to the heart- 
 strings, cruel as the grave ! The card was without date, or 
 he would have read, with a different apprehension of its 
 meaning, the harmless clause "And hopes in time to have 
 a nearer claim upon her esteem" There was a time, then, 
 when, as Lucy had taunted her 'husband, he might have
 
 184 THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 married her sister ! when Sarah loved him, and had reason 
 to think herself beloved in return ! What was this sable 
 badge but the insignia of a bereaved heart, that mourned 
 Btill in secret the faithlessness of her early love, or the ad- 
 verse fate that had sundered him from her, and given him 
 to another ? 
 
 Crushing the frail, dead stems in his hand, he threw them 
 back into the box, and took up a bit of dark gray wood, 
 rough on one side smoothed on the other into a rude tab- 
 let. "Philip Benson, Deal Beach, July 21th, 1856. Pensez 
 d moir But ten days before he met her at the wharf in 
 New York to take her to her sick father ! but three months 
 before she plighted her troth to him, promised to wed him, 
 while in spirit she was still weeping tears of blood over the 
 inconstant ! for he did not forget that Philip's engagement 
 to Lucy preceded his own to Sarah by eight or nine weeks. 
 There were other relics in the box; a half-worn glove, 
 retaining the shape of the manly hand it had inclosed 
 which, he learned afterwards, Philip had left in his chamber 
 at the farm-house when he departed to seek gayer scenes ; 
 a white shell, upon whose rosy lining were scratched with 
 the point of a knife the ominous initials, " P. B.," aud be- 
 neath them " S. B. II.," a faded rose-bud, and several printed 
 slips, cut from the columns of newspapers. He unfolded 
 but two of these. 
 
 One was an extract from Tennyson's "Maud" the invi- 
 tation to the garden. Breathlessly, by reason of the terrible 
 stricture tightening around his heart, Lewis ran his 6} es 
 over the charming whimsical morceau. They rested upon 
 and reviewed the last verse: 
 
 " She is coming my own, my sweet ! 
 
 Were it ever so airy a tread, 
 My heart would hear her and beat ; 
 Were it earth in an earthy bed,
 
 HUSKS. 185 
 
 " My dust would hear her and beat ; 
 
 Had I laid for a century dead, 
 ' "Would start and tremble under her feet, 
 And blossom in purple and red." 
 
 He did not discriminate now between printed and writ- 
 ten varses. These were love stanzas sent by another 
 man to his wife, received and cherished by her, hidden 
 away with a care that, in itself, bordered on criminality, for 
 was not its object the deception of the injured husband ? 
 The most passionate autograph love-letter could hardly have 
 stabbed him more keenly. 
 
 The other was Mrs. Browning's exquisite " Portrait." 
 And here the reader can have an explanation the tortured 
 man could not obtain. With the acumen for which Cupid's 
 votaries are proverbial, Philip Benson, then at the " summer 
 heat" degree of his flame for the Saratoga belle, had recog- 
 nized in this poem the most correct and beautiful description 
 of his lady-love. Curiosity to see if the resemblance were 
 apparent to other eyes, and a desire for sympathy tempted 
 him to forward it to Sarah. She must perceive the likeness 
 to her divine sister, and surmise the sentiment that had in- 
 duced him to send it. A little alteration in the opening 
 Btanza was requisite to make it a " perfect fit." Thus it 
 was when the change was made : 
 
 I will paint her as I see her : 
 
 times have the lilies blown 
 
 Since she looked upon the sun." 
 
 The poetess, guiltless of any intention to cater for the 
 wants of grown-up lovers, had written " Ten" in the space 
 made blank by Philip's gallantry and real ignorance of his 
 charmer's age. For the rest, the "lily-clear face," the " fore- 
 head fair and saintly," the " trail of golden hair," the blue 
 eyes, " like meek prayers before a shrine," the voice that
 
 186 THE EMPTY HEART; OB, 
 
 " Murmurs lowly 
 As a silver stream may run, 
 Which yet feels you feel the sun," 
 
 were, we may safely assert, quite as much like poor Sarah, 
 when he sent the poem, as they were now like the portrait 
 he would if put upon his oath sketch of his unidealized 
 Lucy. 
 
 It was not unnatural then, in Lewis Hammond, to over- 
 look in his present state, these glaring discrepancies in the 
 picture as applied by him. With a blanched and rigid coun- 
 tenance he put all the things back into the box, shut it, and 
 restored it to its place. Then he knelt on the floor and hid 
 his face in his wife's chair ; and there struggled out into the 
 still air of the desecrated home-temple, made sacred by his 
 love and her abiding, deep sobs from the strong man's 
 stricken heart a grief as much more fearful than that of 
 widowhood, as the desertion and dishonor of th") loved one 
 are worse than death.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 IT was the "grand hop" night at the head-quarters of 
 Newport fashion. Sarah, characteristically indifferent to 
 gayeties "made to order," had determined not to appear 
 below. The air of her room was fresh and pure, and a book, 
 yet unread, lay under the lamp upon her table. Her sister 
 and mother had withdrawn to dress, when Jeannie's curly 
 head peeped in at Mrs. Hammond's door. Her features 
 wore a most woe-begone expression. 
 
 " What has gone wrong, Jeannie ?" inquired Sarah. 
 
 " Why, mamma says that I will be in her way if I go into 
 the ball-room ; and it will be so stupid to stay out the whole 
 evening, while all the other girls can see the dancing and 
 dresses, and hear the music. And sister Lucy says that chil- 
 dren are 'bores' in company." 
 
 " A sad state of things, certainly ! Perhaps I may per- 
 suade mother to let you go." 
 
 "Yes; but if she does, she will sit close against the wall with 
 a lot of other fat old ladies, and they will talk over my head, 
 and squeeze me almost to death, besides rumpling my dress ; 
 and I so want to wear my tucked pink grenadine, sister !" 
 
 " And you would like to have me go down with you ; is 
 that it?" 
 
 Jeannie's eyes beamed delightedly. " Oh, if you only 
 would !" 
 
 Sarah looked down into the eager face and saw, in antici 
 pation, her own little Belle imploring some boon, as impor
 
 188 THE EMPTY HEART; OB, 
 
 tant to her, as easy to be granted by another as this, and 
 consented with a kiss. 
 
 " Run away and bring your finery here ! Mother is too 
 busy to attend to you. Mary can dress you." 
 
 The order was obeyed with lightning speed ; and Sarah, 
 still beholding in the excited child the foreshadowing of her 
 darling's girlhood, superintended the toilet, while she made 
 herself ready. 
 
 "What shall I wear, Jeannie?" she asked, carelessly, 
 holding open the door of her wardrobe. 
 
 " Oh, that lovely fawn-colored silk, please ! the one with 
 the black lace flounces ! It is the prettiest color I ever saw; 
 and I heard Mrs. Greyling tell another lady the night you 
 wore it, when brother Lewis was here, you know, that it 
 was one of the richest dresses in the room, modest as it 
 looked, and that the flounces must have cost a penny!" 
 
 " Probably more !" 
 
 Sarah proceeded to array herself in the fortunate robe 
 that had won the praises of the fashionably distinguished 
 Mrs. Greyling. Her abundant dark hair was lighted by two 
 coral sprigs, which formed the heads of her hair-pins, and, 
 handkerchief and gloves in hand, she was taking a last sur- 
 vey of Jeannie's more brilliant costume, when there came a 
 knock at the door. 
 
 " Mr. Benson !" said Mary, unclosing it. 
 
 " May I come in ?" he asked. 
 
 The tidy Mary had removed all trace of the recent tiring 
 operations from the apartment, which was a compound of 
 parlor and dressing-room, a necessary adjunct to the small 
 chamber and smaller nursery, leading out of it, at the side 
 and rear. 
 
 " You may !" replied Sarah. " Here is an aspirant for 
 ball-room honors, who awaits your approval"." 
 
 Mademoiselle, que vous etes charmante ! I am pene-
 
 HUSKS. 189 
 
 trated with profound admiration!" exclaimed the teasing 
 brother-in-law, raising his hands in true melodramatic style. 
 
 Jeannie laughed and blushed until her cheeks matched 
 the grenadine. 
 
 " Mrs. Hunt told me that you had changed your mind, 
 and intended to grace the festive scene with your presence," 
 continued Philip, addressing Sarah. " She and Lucy are 
 there, and the dancing has begun. I came to escort you 
 and our fair debutante here that is, unless some one else 
 has offered his services and been accepted." 
 
 " That is not likely, since Mr. Hammond left us in your 
 care. Do not your fourfold duties oppress you ?" 
 
 " Not in the least. If all my charges were as chary of 
 their calls upon me as you are, my time would hang heavily 
 upon my hands. No one would imagine, from your reluc- 
 tance to be waited upon, that you had been spoiled at home. 
 If Mr. Hammond were here now, he would tell you to draw 
 that shawl " 
 
 " It is an opera cloak !" interrupted Jeannie. 
 
 " A ball-cloak to-night, then, is it not ? I was saying that, 
 although the night is not cool for sea air, you had better 
 wrap that mantle about your chest and throat as we go 
 out." 
 
 Just outside the door a waiter passed them with a note 
 in his hand. He stopped, on seeing Philip. 
 
 " Mr. Benson ! I was on my way to your rooms with this, 
 sir." 
 
 Philip stepped back within the parlor to read it by the 
 Jigtit. It was a line from a friend who had just arrived 
 at another hotel, notifying him of this fact. It required no 
 reply, and leaving it upon the table, he rejoined his com- 
 panions. 
 
 " See mamma ! Isn't it just as I said ?" whispered Jean- 
 nie, as she established herself beside her sister in a comfort-
 
 190 THE EMPTY HEAKTJ OB, 
 
 able corner that commanded a view of the spacious hall and 
 its gay, restless sea of figures. 
 
 Sarah smiled at discovering her mother sandwiched be- 
 tween two portly dowagers ; one in purple, the other in 
 lavender silk; all three bobbing and waving in their ear- 
 nest confabulations, in a style that presented a ludicrously 
 marked resemblance to the gesticulations of a group ol 
 Muscovy ducks, on the margin of a mud-puddle, held by 
 them in their capacity of a joint-stock company. 
 
 " I see tliat Lucy has taken the floor," observed Philip. 
 " She will not thank me for any devoirs I could render her 
 for the next three hours. If they get up any thing so hum- 
 drum as quadrilles, may I ask the pleasure of your company 
 for the set ?" 
 
 ' If you wish it and my dress is not too grave in /me " 
 
 " And too decorous in its make, you were about to add, 
 I presume :" he finished the sentence bluntly. " It forms a 
 refreshing contrast to the prevailing style around us." 
 
 Lucy here flitted into sight, and her very bare arras and 
 shoulders pointed her husband's strictures. A stool, brought 
 into the room for the use of some child or invalid looker-on 
 of the festivities, now stood empty under Sarah's chair, and 
 Philip, espying it, seized upon and drew it forth. When 
 seated, his mouth was nearly on a level with Sarah's ear. 
 
 " This is pleasant !" he said. " We are quite as much 
 isolated from the rest of mankind as if we were sitting 
 among the heathery hillocks on Deal Beach. You do not 
 love the visions of those tranquil sunny days as I do. You 
 never allude to them voluntarily. Yet you have had less to 
 convert your dreams into every-day actualities, tedious and 
 prosaic, than I have. I stand in direful need of one of the 
 old , lectures, inculcating moi-e charity, and less study of 
 complex motives and biassed tendencies in the machine we 
 call Man. Begin ! I am at your mercy."
 
 HTJSKS. 191 
 
 "I have forgotten how to deliver them. I am out of 
 practice." 
 
 "That is not surprising. Your husband is behind tht 
 age he lives in and so are you. You two would makt 
 Karnum's fortune, could he ever persuade the public of 
 y jur idiosyncrasies." 
 
 " What are you talking about ?" 
 
 " Look around and through this room , and you will un 
 derstand one part of my meaning. Do you remark tht 
 preponderance of married over single belles ? and that tha 
 most tenderly deferential cavaliers are husbands, and not 
 dancing with their wives ? I could point out to you three 
 men, leaders of the ton in this extremely reputable, emi- 
 nently moral assembly, who, it is whispered among the 
 knowing ones, are married, and, having left their domestic 
 associations for a season of recreation, boldly attach them- 
 selves to certain stylish young ladies here, and challenge 
 observation, defy public censure, by their marked and in- 
 creasing devotion. I meet them strolling along the beach 
 in the morning ; 1'iding together in the afternoon ; and 
 when not engaged in this evening exhibition of toilet and 
 muscle, you will find them pacing the moon or star-lit pi- 
 azza, or, perchance, again sentimentalizing on the shore until 
 the witching hour draws near." 
 
 " You surprise me !" 
 
 " You have no right to be surprised. You have the same 
 thing continually before you in your city. Every fashion- 
 able hotel or boarding-house can supply you with such 
 flirtations by the dozen. A married woman who declines 
 the polite services of all gentlemen, except her husband 
 and near relatives, is a prude, with false scruples of propri 
 ety and delicacy. Let her legal partner complain he is 
 cried out upon as a despot, and you can trust the sweet an 
 gol of an abused wife to elude his vigilance violence, she
 
 192 THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 terms it for the future, without altering her conduct 
 in aught else. Do you see that pretty woman in blue the 
 one with the madonna-like face ? Her tyrant is here but 
 once a week from Saturday until Monday then hies Lack 
 to the business he loves as well as she does her pleasure. 
 Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and the 
 forenoon of Saturday, any mustachioed puppy may walk 
 talk, drive, and flirt with her bask in the rays of those 
 liquid orbs. When the rightful lord appears, she is demure 
 as a nun, patient as a saint, dutiful as Griselda, to him and 
 him alone. Do you begin to understand why I congratu- 
 lated you upon having a husband of the olden stamp ? why, 
 I do from my heart felicitate my friend Hammond upon 
 having gained, as a helpmeet, one of that nearly obsolete 
 species Woman !" 
 
 Sarah's embarrassment was painful, and but indifferently 
 concealed. She felt that it was barely excusable, in consid- 
 eration of his fraternal relation to her, for Philip to speak so 
 plainly of this social blemish ; and altogether unpardonable, 
 while he did not, or could not, prevent his wife's participation 
 in the questionable gayeties he assailed so unsparingly. Re- 
 ply she could not, without implicating Lucy in her reproba- 
 tion, and he must perceive her difficulty. This was the 
 trouble that lay uppermost. At her heart's core, the uneasy 
 feeling she ever experienced in conversation with him ; the 
 stirring of the entombed love, of whose actual death she 
 had horrible misgivings ; the incongruous blending of past 
 emotion with present duty, were now aggravated by the 
 enforced acceptance of unmerited praise. Her woman's 
 instinct, her experience as a wife, told her that the cause of 
 the sinful recklessness, the contempt of the true spirit of 
 the marriage tie, was not the fruit merely of the vanity and 
 thirst for adulation, to which it was properly attributed. 
 With the recollection of her own life, the education she had
 
 HUSKS. 193 
 
 received at home, the hateful, yet, even to her independent 
 spirit, resistless decrees of society, there swelled up within 
 her bosom something akin to Philip's bitter cynicism. Un- 
 der this spur, she spoke. 
 
 " Aud from these signs of the times, you would argue an 
 inherent degeneracy of womanhood a radical change in its 
 composition, such as some anatomists tell us has taken place 
 in the structure of our bodies our blood our very teeth. 
 A dentist, who filled a tooth for me the other day, imparted 
 divers scientific items of information to me that may illus- 
 trate your position. ' Enamel, madam, is not what enamel 
 was in the days of our ancestors !' he affirmed pathetically ; 
 ' the color, the very ingredients of the bone, the calcareous 
 base of the teeth, differ sadly from the indestructible molars 
 of fifty years ago.' At this passage of his jererniade, he 
 chanced to touch the nerve in the unhappy ' molar ' he was 
 excavating, and I am persuaded that I suffered as really 
 as my grandmother would have done, had she sat in my 
 place." 
 
 She paused, and beat time with her fingers on Jeannie's 
 shoulder to the wild, varying waltz that swept the giddy 
 crowd around the room in fast and flyiug circles. 
 
 " Your analogy asserts, then, that at heart women are 
 alike in all ages ?" 
 
 " Why not, as well as men ?" 
 
 " Then why does not action remain the same, if that be 
 true ?" 
 
 " Because custom fashion, if you prefer this name at 
 unaccountable, irresponsible power owing its birth often- 
 est to accident or caprice, says, ' Do this !' and it is done ! 
 be it to perpetrate a cravat-bow, a marriage, or a murder !" 
 
 Another pause in which music and dancers seemed 
 sweeping on to sweet intoxication so joyous in their 
 abandon were the gushing strains ; so swift the whirl of 
 9
 
 194 THE EMPTY HEART; OB, 
 
 the living ring. The fingers played lightly and rapidly oq 
 Jeanuie's plump shoulder then rested on a half-beat. 
 
 " Yes !" She was looking towards the crowd, but her eye 
 was fixed, and her accents slow and grave. " Hearts live 
 and hearts love, while time endures. The heart selects ita 
 mate in life's spring-time, with judgment as untaught as 
 that of the silly bird that asks no companion but the one 
 the God of Nature has bestowed upon it. But see you not, 
 my good brother " she faced him, a smile wreathing her 
 lip a strange glitter in her eye " see you not to what 
 woeful disorders these untrained desires, this unsophisticated 
 following out of unregulated affections would give rise ? It 
 would sap the foundations of caste ; level all wholesome dis- 
 tinctions of society; consign the accomplished daughters of 
 palatial halls hoary with a semi-decade of years to one- 
 story cottages and a maid-of-all work; doom nice young 
 men to the drudgery of business for the remainder of their 
 wretched lives, to maintain wives whose dowries would not 
 keep their lily-handed lords in French kids for a year ; cover 
 managing mammas with ignomiuy, and hasten ambitious pa- 
 pas to their costly vaults in as Dickens has it ' some gen- 
 teel place of interment.' Come what may of blasted hopes 
 and wrecked hearts, the decencies of life must be observed. 
 Every heart has its nerve genuine, sensitive, sometimes 
 vulgarly tenacious of life but there are corrosives that will 
 eat it out ; fine, deadly wires, that can probe and torture 
 and extract it. And when the troublesome thing is finally 
 gotten rid of, there is an end to all obstacles to judicious 
 courtships and eligible alliances !" She laughed scornfully, 
 and Philip recoiled, without knowing why he did so, as he 
 heard her. 
 
 " That is all very well, when the nature of the contract ia 
 understood on both sides," he said, gloomily. " I doubt, 
 however, whether the beautiful economy of your systei*
 
 HUSKS. 195 
 
 will be appreciated by those whose living hearts are bound 
 to the bloodless plaster-casts you describe." 
 
 " These accidents will occur in spite of caution on the 
 part of the best managers of suitable marriages. By far 
 the larger proportion of the shocks inflicted uppn polite cir- 
 cles arise from this very cause. Pygmalion grows weary 
 of wooing his statue, and wants sympathy in his disappoint- 
 ment and loneliness." 
 
 The dance was ended. The fantastic variations of the 
 waltz were exchanged for a noble march pealing through 
 the heated rooms like a rush of the healthful sea-breeze. 
 The spark died in Sarah's eye. Her voice took its habit- 
 ual pitch. 
 
 " I have permitted myself to become excited, and, I am 
 afraid, have said many things that I had no right to think 
 much less to utter. If my freedom has displeased you, I am 
 sorry." 
 
 " The error if error there were was mine," rejoined 
 Philip. "I led the conversation into the channel; you, af- 
 ter awhile, followed. I believe there is no danger of our 
 misunderstanding each other." 
 
 " Darby and Joan ! good children in the corner !" cried 
 Lucy, flushed with exercise and radiant with good humor, 
 as she promenaded past them leaning on the arm of a young 
 West Pointer, a native Southerner and an acquaintance of 
 Philip's. If his wife must flirt and frolic, he was watchful 
 that she did not compromise him by association with doubt- 
 ful characters. On several occasions, the advances of gay 
 gentlemen, whose toilets were more nearly irreproachable 
 than their reputations, had been checked by his cool and 
 significant resumption of the husband's post beside the 
 belle, and, if need existed, by the prompt withdrawal of 
 the unwilling lady from the scene. The cadet laughed, and, 
 convinced that she had said a witty thing, Lucy swam by.
 
 196 THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 " The common sense of our tropes, rodomontades, and al- 
 legories is this !" said Philip, biting his lip, and speaking in 
 a hard tone. " The only safe ground in marriage is mutual, 
 permanent affection. You meant to convey the idea that if 
 each of these dressy matrons, humming around our ears, 
 had a sincere, abiding love for her husband and each 01 
 these gallant Benedicts the right kind of regard for his 
 wedded Beatrice, the vocation of us corner censors would 
 be gone?" 
 
 " Well said, Mr. Interpreter !" she responded, in affected 
 jest. 
 
 " This point settled, will you take my arm for a turn 
 through the room before the next set is formed ? They are 
 talking of quadrilles. I shall claim your promise if a set is 
 made up, unless you are not courageous enough to brave the 
 public sneer by dancing with your brother. Come, Jeanuie, 
 and walk with us." 
 
 Two sets of quadrilles were arranged at different ends of 
 the saloon. Philip led Sarah through one, with Lucy 
 who considered it a capital joke and her partner vis-d-vis 
 to them, Jeannie, meanwhile, remaining by her mother. 
 
 The summer nights were short ; and, when the dance was 
 over, Sarah intimated to her younger sister the propriety 
 of retiring. Mrs. Hunt's head ached, and she esteemed the 
 sacrifice comparatively light, therefore, that she, too, had to 
 leave the revels and accompany the child to her chamber. 
 Sarah's apartments were on the same floor, several doors 
 further on. Having said " Good-night " to the others, she 
 and Philip walked slowly along the piazza, light as day in 
 the moonbeams, until they reached her outer room, the 
 parlor. 
 
 " I hope you will experience no ill effects from your dis- 
 sipation," said Philip, in playful irony. " In a lady of your 
 Btaid habits, this disposition to gayety is alarming. Abso-
 
 HUSKS. 197 
 
 lutely eleven o'clock ! What will Hammond say when he 
 hears the story ? Good-night ! Don't let your conscience 
 keep you awake !" 
 
 Sarah opened the door softly, that she might not startle 
 the baby-sleeper in the inner room. The lamp was shining 
 brightly, and by it sat her husband !
 
 198 THE EMPTY HEART; OB, 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 LEWIS had entered his wife's room within fifteen minutes 
 after she left it. He looked so ill and weary that the 
 girl, Mary, gave a stifled scream of fright and surprise. 
 
 " Are you sick, sir ?" she asked hastily, as he threw off 
 his hat, and wiped his pale forehead. " Shall I tell Mrs. 
 Hammond that you are here ? She went down to the ball- 
 room awhile ago." 
 
 " What did you say ? No !" replied he, shortly. 
 
 His frown, rather than his tone, silenced her. He had 
 picked up the envelope Philip had dropped on the table, 
 and his face darkened still more. Too proud to question a 
 servant of her mistress' actions and associates, he believed 
 that he had gathered from this mute witness all that was 
 needful to know. As a privileged habitue, of the cosy bou- 
 doir he had been at such pains to procure and make fit for 
 his wife's occupancy, another had sat here and read his 
 evening mail, while awaiting her leisure ; careless of ap- 
 pearances, since the deceived one would not be there to 
 notice them, had tossed this note down with as much free- 
 dom as he would have done in his own apartment. 
 
 Through the open windows poured the distant strains of 
 the band ; and, seized by a sudden thought, he caught up 
 bis hat and strode out, along piazzas and through halls, to 
 the entrance-door of the ball saloon. As Sarah's ill-fortune 
 ordained it, the piercing glance that ran over and beyond 
 he crowd of spectators and dancers detected her at the in
 
 HUSKS. 199 
 
 stant of Philip's taking his lowly seat at her side. Jeannie's 
 pink attire was concealed by the drapery of a lady, whose 
 place in the set then forming was directly in front of her. 
 Lewis saw but the two, virtually Ute-d-tete ; and, as he ob- 
 tained fleeting glimpses of them through the shifting throng, 
 marked Philip's energetic, yet confidential discourse, and 
 the intentness with which she listened, until, warmed or ex 
 cited by his theme, Sarah lifted her downcast eyes and 
 spoke, with what feeling and effect her auditor's varying 
 expression showed. 
 
 The gazer stood there like a statue, unheeding the sur- 
 prised and questioning looks cast by passers-by upon his 
 travelling-dress, streaked with dust his sad and settled 
 visage, so unbefitting the scene within while Philip made 
 the tour of the room, with Sarah upon his arm, until they 
 took their stations for the dance ; he, courteous and atten- 
 tive she, smiling and happy, more beautiful in her hus 
 band's eyes than her blonde sister opposite ; and he could 
 stay no longer. If Mary had thought him sick and cross 
 at his former entrance, she considered him savage now, for 
 one who was ordinarily a kind and gentle master. 
 
 " You can go to your room !" he ordered, not advised. 
 " I will sit up for Mrs. Hammond !" 
 
 " I have slept in the nursery, sir, while you were away." 
 
 " That cannot be to-night. I will find you some other 
 place." 
 
 He had no intention that the anticipated conversation 
 with his wife should be overheard. 
 
 " I can stay with a friend of mine, sir, only a few door 
 off." 
 
 "Very well!" 
 
 Quickly and quietly the nurse arranged the night-lamp 
 and the child's food, that her mistress might have no trouble 
 during her absence, and went out.
 
 UOU THE EMPTY HEART; OK, 
 
 Baby Belle slumbered on, happily wandering through the 
 guileless mazes of baby dream-land ; one little arm, bared 
 from the sleeve of her gown, thrown above her head the 
 \iand of the other cradling her cheek. The father ventured 
 to press a light kiss upon the red lips. In his desolation, 
 he craved this trifling solace. The child's face was con- 
 torted by an expression of discomfort, and, still dreaming, 
 she murmured, in her inarticulate language, some pettish 
 expression of disgust. 
 
 " My very child shrinks from me ! It is in the blood !" 
 said the unhappy man, drawing back from the crib. 
 
 If his resolution had waned at sight of the sleeper, it was 
 fixed again when he returned to his chair in the outer room. 
 He raised his head from his folded arms when he heard 
 Philip and Sarah approaching, but did not otherwise alter 
 his position. The low tone of their parting words one 
 soon learned by the sojourners in hotels and watering-places, 
 where thin partitions and ventilators abound was, to him, 
 the cautiously repressed voice of affectionate good-nights. 
 But one clause was distinct "What will Hammond say, 
 when he hears the story ?" They jested thus of him, then. 
 One of them, at least, should learn ere long what he would 
 say. 
 
 " Lewis ! you here !" 
 
 Sarah changed color with amazement and vague alarm 
 emotion that paralyzed her momentarily. Then, as she dis- 
 cerned the tokens of disorder in his dress and countenance, 
 she hurried forward. 
 
 ; ' What has brought you so unexpectedly ? Are you 
 sick? Has any thing happened ?" 
 
 He did not rise ; and, resting her hand on his shoulder, 
 she stooped for a kiss. But his stern gaze never moved 
 from hers anxious and inquiring and his lips were like 
 stone.
 
 201 
 
 " Lewis, speak to me ! If you have dreadful news to 
 tell me, for pity's sake, do not keep me in suspense !" 
 
 " I have nothing to say that will be new to you," he said, 
 without relaxing his hard, cold manner, " and not a great 
 deal that ought to have been kept back from me when I 
 wished to marry you, believing that you had a heart to 
 give me with your hand." 
 
 As if struck in the face, Sarah sank back into a chair, 
 speechless and trembling. 
 
 " Yes ! had you been sincere with me then, grieved and 
 disappointed as I would have felt, I would have respected 
 you the more, and loved you none the less for the dis- 
 closure. But when, after a year and a half of married life, 
 I learn that the woman I have loved and trusted with my 
 whole soul from whom I have never concealed a thought 
 that it could interest her to know has all the while been 
 playing a false part vowing at the altar to love me and 
 me alone, when she secretly idolized another ; bearing my 
 name, living beneath my roof, sleeping in my bosom yet 
 thinking of, and caring for him, treasuring his keepsakes as 
 the most precious of her possessions is it strange that, 
 when the tongue of a vulgar gossip proclaims my shame in 
 my hearing, and other evidence proves what I thought was 
 his vile slander to be true as gospel is it strange, I say, 
 that I am incensed at the deception practised upon me at 
 the infamous outrage of my dearest hopes my most holy 
 feelings ?" 
 
 She threw herself at his feet, clasped his knees, and im- 
 plored him, chokingly, to "forgive" her. "Oh! if you 
 knew what I have suifered !" 
 
 "What you have suffered!" He folded his arms and 
 
 looked sorrowfully down at her crouching figure. " Yes ! 
 
 you were not by nature coarse and unfeeling ! The violence 
 
 you have committed upon your heart and every principle of 
 
 9*
 
 202 THE EMPTY HEART; OB, 
 
 delicacy and truth must have cost you pain. Then you 
 loved hiia !" 
 
 " Once ! a long while ago !" said Sarah, hiding her face 
 in her hands. 
 
 "Take caio!" There was no softness now in his tone. 
 " Remember that T have seen you together day by day, and 
 that glances and actions, unnoticed at the time in my stupid 
 blindness, recur to me HOW with terrible meaning. For 
 once, speak the true voice of feeling, and own what I know 
 already, that all the love you ever had to give belongs still 
 to your sister's husband !" 
 
 "I will speak the truth!" Sarah arose and stood before 
 him face livid and eyes burning. " I did love this man ! 
 I married you, partly to please my parents, partly because 
 I found out that by some means my secret had fallen into 
 unscrupulous hands, and I was mad with dread of its ex- 
 posure ! It seemed to me that no worse shame could come 
 upon me than to have it trumpeted abroad that I had 
 bestowed my love unsought, and was ready to die because 
 it was slighted. I have learned since that it is far, far worse 
 to live a lie to despise myself! Oh! that I had died 
 then!" She battled with the emotion that threatened to 
 overwhelm her, and went on. " Once bound to you, it has 
 been my hourly endeavor to feel and act as became the 
 faithful wife of a kind, noble man. If, sometimes, I have 
 erred in thought if my feelings have failed me in the mo- 
 ment of trial yet, in word and deed, in look and gesture, I 
 have been true to you. No one have I deceived more 
 thoroughly than Philip Benson. He never suspected my 
 unfortunate partiality for himself; he believes me still, what 
 I would give worlds to become in truth, your loyal, loving 
 wife ! It is well that you know the truth at last. I do not 
 ask you how you have obtained the outlines of a disgrace- 
 ful story, that I have tried a thousand times to tell you, but
 
 HTJ 8X8. 203 
 
 was prevented by the fear of losing your favor forever 
 This is my poor defence not against your charges, but in 
 palliation of the sin of which they justly accuse me. I can 
 say nothing more. Do with me as you will !" 
 ' "It is but jusi to myself that you should hear the cir- 
 cumstances which accidentally revealed this matter to me." , 
 
 He narrated the scene at the restaurant, and the discovery 
 of the evening. He evinced neither relenting nor sympathy 
 in the recital. Her confession had extinguished the last ray 
 of hope, cherished, though unacknowledged by himself, 
 that she might extenuate her error or give a more favorable 
 construction to the evidence against her. It was not singu- 
 lar that, in the reaction of disappointment, he was ready to 
 believe that he had not heard all ; to imagine that he could 
 perceive throughout her statement a disposition to screen 
 Philip, that was, in itself, a proof of disingenuousness, if 
 not deliberate falsehood. She denied that he had ever been 
 aware of her attachment or had reciprocated it. What 
 meant then those words " hopes in time to have a nearer 
 claim ?" what those impassioned verses ? what the linking 
 of their initials within the shell ? the motto on the "wooden 
 tablet? "While these subtle queries were insinuated into 
 his soul by some mocking spirit, he concluded the history 
 of the discovery of the casket. 
 
 " I have never opened it since the night before I was 
 married," said Sarah, with no haste of self-justification. 
 " I put it into the drawer the day after we went to ou 
 house. It has not been unlocked from that day to this." 
 
 " Why keep it at all, unless as a memento of one still dear 
 to you ?" 
 
 " I felt as if I had buried it. I said to myself: ' If the 
 time ever comes when I can disinter these relics and show 
 them to my husband, without a pang or fear, as mementoes 
 of a dead and almost forgotten folly, he shall destroy them,
 
 20i THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 and I shall have gained a victory that will insure my life- 
 long happiness.' " 
 
 "And that time has never arrived." 
 
 She would have spoken, but her tongue proved traitorous, 
 Sho crimsoned and was silent. 
 
 Lewis smiled drearily. " You see that I know you bet- 
 ter than you do yourself. It is well, as you have said, that 
 I know all ai last. I pity you ! If I could, I would release 
 you from your bondage. As it is, I will do all that I can 
 for this end." 
 
 " Never !" cried Sarah, shuddering. " Have you forgot- 
 ten our child ?" 
 
 " I have not !" His voice shook for a second. " She is 
 all that unites us now. For the sake of her future her 
 good name an open separation ought to be avoided, if 
 possible, if it be inevitable, your conduct must not be the 
 ostensible cause. To quiet malicious tongues, you must 
 remain here awhile longer under your mother's care. To 
 accomplish the same end, I must appear once more in public, 
 and on apparently friendly terms with your brother-in-law. 
 When your mother returns to the city, you had best go, 
 too, and to your own house. Your brother Robert is now 
 sixteen years old steady and manly enough to act as your 
 protector. Invite him to stay with you, and also Jeannie, 
 if you find it lonely." 
 
 " What are you saying ? Where will you be that you 
 speak of my choosing another protector?" 
 
 " A very incompetent one I have proved myself to be !" 
 he returned, with the same sad smile. " I have not been 
 able to shield you from invidious reports ; still less to 
 save you from yourself. I sail for Europe day after to- 
 morrow." 
 
 " Lewis, you will not ! If you ever loved me, do not 
 desert me and our child now ! I will submit to any punish-
 
 HUSKS. 205 
 
 ment but this !" She clung anew to his kneei as she 
 poured out her prayer. 
 
 Not a month ago she had turned pale with fright at 
 the suggestion of this voyage. It was sheer acting then ! 
 why not now ? 
 
 ; ' Objections are useless !" he said. " My arrangements 
 are made. I have passed my word." 
 
 " But you will not leave me in anger ! Say that you will 
 forgive me ! that you will return soon, and this miserable 
 night be forgotten !" 
 
 " Shall I tell you when I will return ?" He raised her 
 head, and looked straight into her eyes. " When you write 
 to me, and tell me that you have destroyed the love-tokens 
 in that box ; when you bid me come back for your sake 
 not for our child's ! Until then, I shall believe that my 
 presence would be irksome to you. It is necessary for our 
 house to have a resident partner in England. It is my ex- 
 pectation to fill that place for some time to come ; it shall 
 be for you to say how long." 
 
 Bowed as Sarah's spirit was beneath the burst of the 
 long dreaded storm and her accusing conscience, her 
 womanly pride revolted at this speech. She had bumbled 
 herself in the dust at the feet of a man whom she did not 
 love ; had borae meekly his reproaches ; submitted dumbly 
 to the degrading suspicions that far transcended her actual 
 sin : but as the idea of her suing servilely for the love she 
 had never yet valued ; of him, indifferent and independent, 
 awaiting afar off for her petition hers, whom he had 
 abandoned to the scornful sneers of the keen-witted hyenas 
 of society ; to the cross-examination of her distrustful rela. 
 lives ; the stings of remorse; left in one word to herself! 
 as this picture grew up clearly before her mind, the tide of 
 feeling turned. 
 
 " You reject my prayers and despise my tears !" she said,
 
 206 THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 proudly. " You refuse to accept of my humiliation. Yet you 
 do not doubt me, as you would have me believe that you 
 do ! Else you would not dare to trust me the keeper of 
 your honor and your child's fair name out of your sight ! 
 I throw back the charge in your teeth, and tell you that 
 your conduct gives it the lie ! I have asked you shame 
 on me that I did ! to continue to me the shelter of your 
 name and presence ; to shield me, a helpless woman, more 
 unhappy than guilty, from the ban of the world ; and you 
 deny me every thing but a contemptible shadow of re- 
 spectability, which the veriest fool can penetrate. I would 
 not have you suppose that your generous confidence in my 
 integrity" she brought out the words with scathing con- 
 tempt " will deter me from sinking to the level you are 
 pleased to assign me. If the native dignity of my woman- 
 hood, the principles I inherit from my father, my love for 
 my innocent babe do not hold me back from ruin, be- as- 
 sured that the hope of winning your approval will not. To 
 you I make no pledges of reformation ; I offer but one 
 promise. If you choose to remain abroad until I, in spirit, 
 kiss your feet, and pray you to receive a love such as most 
 men are glad to win by assiduity of attention, and every 
 pleasing art which you would force into being by wilful 
 and revengeful absence you will never see your native 
 land again until the grass grows upon my grave !" 
 
 She paused for breath, and continued more slowly. 
 " While your child lives, and I remain her guardian, I will 
 use your means for her maintenance will reside in your 
 house- If she dies, or you take her from me, I will not 
 owe you my support for a single day more!" 
 
 Lewis grew pallid to his lips ; but he, too, was proud, 
 and his stubborn will was called into bold exercise. 
 
 " Very well ! It is in your choice to accede to my propo- 
 sitions, or not. A share in all that I have is yours ; not
 
 H TJ 8 K 8 . 207 
 
 only daring th-' child's life, but as long as yon live. Before 
 I leave Amen i, I shall deposit for you in your father's 
 bank a sum wb-ch, I hope, yon will find sufficient to main- 
 tain you in comfort. Your father will be my executor in 
 this matter. I shall not confide" to him the peculiar circum- 
 stances of my departure, leaving you at liberty to act in 
 this respect, as in every thing else, according to the dictates 
 of your will and pleasure. At the end of a certain term of 
 years specified by law, you can, if you wish, procure a 
 divorce, on the ground of my wilful and continued desertion 
 of you ; in which case, the provision for your support will 
 remain unchanged. As to the child the mother's is the 
 strongest claim. I shall never take her from you. Do not 
 let me keep you up longer. It is late !" 
 
 With a silent inclination of the head, she withdrew, and 
 he cast himself upon the sofa, there to lie during the few 
 hours of the night that were yet unspent. 
 
 He had arisen, and was standing at the window when 
 Sarah entered in the morning. But for the dark shadows 
 under the eyes, and the tight-drawn look about the mouth, 
 she appeared as usual ; and her " Good-morning," if cold, 
 was yet polite. 
 
 " I imagine," she said, as the gong clashed out its second 
 call, "that you wish me to accompany you to breakfast, 
 and to preserve my ordinary manner towards you when 
 others are by. Am I right ?" 
 
 " You are. This is all I ask. The effort will not be a 
 tedious one. I leave here at noon." 
 
 Arm in arm they directed their steps towards the great 
 diniug-hall to the view of the spectator as comfortable 
 and happy a pair as any that pursued that route on that 
 summer morning. Together they sat down "at table, and 
 Mr. Hammond ordered " his lady's" breakfast with his 
 own. Mrs. Hunt bustled in shortly after they were seated,
 
 208 THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 full of wonderment at having heard from Sarah's maid of 
 her master's unexpected arrival; while Jeannie gave his 
 hand a squeeze as hearty as was the welcome in her smiling 
 face. The Bensons were always late. So much the better. 
 There were more people present to observe the cordial 
 meeting between the brothers-in-law, made the more con- 
 spicuous by Philip's surprise. The genuineness of his good 
 spirits, his easy, unembarrassed manner, was the best veil 
 that could have been devised for Sarah's constraint and 
 Lewis's counterfeit composure. 
 
 It did not escape Philip's eye that Sarah ate nothing, and 
 spoke only to avoid the appearance of singularity ; and he 
 believed that he had discovered the origin of her trouble 
 when Lewis communicated his purpose of foreign travel. 
 When the burst of surprise subsided, the latter tried suc- 
 cessfully to represent his plan as a business necessity. 
 Lucy, who never saw an inch beyond her nose morally and 
 mentally speaking except when her intuitions were 
 quickened by self-love, was the questioner most to be 
 dreaded. 
 
 "Why don't you go with him?" she inquired of her 
 sister. " He should not stir one step without me, if I were 
 in your place. Only think ! you might spend six months 
 in Paris !" 
 
 " How would Baby Belle relish a sea voyage !" returned 
 Sarah. 
 
 " Nonsense ! How supremely silly ! One would suppose 
 that she was the only member of the family whose comfort 
 was to be consulted. Rather than expose her to the possi- 
 bility of inconvenience, you will deprive yourself of profit 
 and pleasure, and be separated from your husband for nobody 
 knows how iong. This shows how much these model mar- 
 ried people really care for one another. When put to the 
 test they are no better than we poor sinners, whom every-
 
 HUSKS. 209 
 
 body calls flirts. Phil, are those muffins warm ? This one 
 of mine has grown cold while I was talking." 
 
 " How are the horses, Benson ?" inquired Lewis. " Have 
 they been exercised regularly ?" 
 
 " Yes, and are in capital order. You could have left ua 
 no more acceptable reminder of yourself than those same 
 fine bays." 
 
 "If you have no other engagement, suppose we have 
 them up before the light carriage after breakfast, and take 
 a short drive." 
 
 " Agreed, with all my heart ! unless Mrs. Hammond 
 quarrels with me for robbing her of a portion of your last 
 morning with her." 
 
 " She will forgive you !" Lewis rejoined, to spare her the 
 effort of reply. 
 
 From her window Sarah saw them whirl off along the 
 beach in sight of the hundreds of spectators on the sands 
 and about the hotels, and recognized the ingenuity of this 
 scheme for proclaiming the amicable feeling between the 
 two. 
 
 " But one more scene, and the hateful mockery is over !" 
 thought the wife, as she heard her husband's step outsMe 
 the door on his return. 
 
 She snatched a paper from the table, and seemed absorbed 
 in its contents, not looking up at his entrance. Lewis made 
 several turns through the room, sighed heavily, and onoa 
 paused, as if about to address her, but changed his mind, 
 
 Then sounded from without the fresh, gurgling laugh of 
 a child, and the nurse came in with the baby rosy and 
 bright from her morning walk on the shore. She almost 
 sprang from Mary's hold at sight of her father, j^nd dis- 
 missing the woman with a word, he took his dar'iug into 
 his arms, and sat down behind his wife. InflexiK f stolen, 
 Sarah tried not to listen, as she would not see tl m j but
 
 210 THE EMPTY II E A K T ; OR, 
 
 she heard every sound : the child's soft coo of satisfaction 
 as she nestled in the father's bosom ; the many kisses he im- 
 printed upon her pure face and mouth with what agony Sarah 
 well knew the irregular respiration, sometimes repressed, 
 until its breaking forth was like sobs ; and the proud, 
 miserable heart confessed reluctantly that, in one respect, 
 his share of their divided lot was heavier than hers. She 
 was not to witness his final resignation of his idol. Under 
 color of summoning Mary, he carried the infant from the 
 room, and came back without her. 
 
 "It is time for me to go now, Sarah !" 
 
 His voice was calm, and its firmness destroyed what 
 slender encouragement she might have drawn from the 
 scene with his child, to hope for some modification of his 
 resolution. 
 
 " Will jon write to me, at regular intervals, to give me 
 news of Belle ?" 
 
 " Certainly, if such is your wish." 
 
 " And yourself? you will be careful of your health, will 
 you not ? And, if I can ever serve you in any way, you 
 will -let me know?" 
 
 " It is not likely that you can ; thank you." 
 
 There was a silence of some moments. Sarah stood 
 playing with the tassel of her morning robe, pale and com- 
 posed. 
 
 "Sarah!" Lewis took her hand. "We have both been 
 hasty, both violent ! Unfeeling as yo-u think me, and as I 
 may have seemed in this affair, believe me that it almost 
 kills me to part from you so coldly. It is not like me to 
 retract a determination, but if you will say now what you 
 did last night ' Do not go !' I will stay, and be as good a 
 husband to you as I can. Shall we not forgive, and try to 
 forget ?" 
 
 The demon of resentful pride was not so easily exorcised.
 
 HU S X S. 211 
 
 At a breath of repentance a siggestion of compromise, 
 the fell legion rallied an impregnable phalanx. She was 
 frozen, relentless ; her eyes, black and haughty, met his 
 with an answer her tongue could not have framed in words. 
 " I have nothing to say !" 
 
 " ' Nothing !' The ocean must then separate us for 
 years it may be forever !" 
 
 " It was your choice. I will not reverse it." 
 " Not, if you knew that if you let me go I would never 
 return ?" 
 
 "Not if I knew that you would never return !" 
 Without another word, without a farewell look, or the 
 hand-grasp mere strangers exchange, he left her there the 
 stony monument of her ill-directed life and- affections; 
 the victim of a worldly mother and a backbiting tongue !
 
 THE EMPTY HEART: OB. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 u How gay Mrs. Hammond has grown lately !" said Mrs, 
 Grey ling, the fashionable critic of the House drawing- 
 room. " Do you see that she is actually waltzing to-night ? 
 She moves well, too ! That pearl-colored moire antique is 
 handsome, and must have cost every cent of nine dollars a 
 yard. She is partial to heavy silks, it seems. It gives an 
 air of sameness to her dress ; otherwise she shows very tol- 
 erable taste." 
 
 " I have heard it said that she was a regular dowdy before 
 she was married," observed Mrs. Parton, who was also on 
 the " committee of censure" a self-appointed organization, 
 which found ample employment in this crowded nest of 
 pleasure-seekers. " Her husband is perpetually making he 1 * 
 presents, and she dresses to please him." 
 
 " Humph ! I distrust these pattern couples ! ' My husband 
 doesn't approve of my doing this won't hear of my acting 
 so !' are phrases easily learned, and sound so fine that one 
 soon falls into the habit of using them. What a flirt Mrs. 
 Benson is! That is the fifth young man she has danced 
 with this evening. I pity her husband and baby !" 
 
 " He does not look inconsolable ! I tell you what my no- 
 tion is : he may love his wife of course he does but he 
 admires her sister more. See how he watches her ! Mrs. 
 Tomes, told me that she was standing near him the first time 
 Mrs. Hammond waltzed, and that he seemed real worried, 
 When the set was through, she came to look for a seat, and
 
 213 
 
 he got one for her. As she took it, he said something to 
 her which Mrs. Tomes could not hear, but she laughed out 
 in his face as saucy as could be, and said : ' Oh, I am learning 
 when I am in Rome to do as Romans do ! Doesn't my elder 
 sister set me the example ?* " 
 
 " He could say nothing then," said Mrs. Greyling. " Those 
 girls played their cards well. The Hunts have very little, 
 if any thing, besides the father's salary, and the family waa 
 very obscure." 
 
 Mrs. Greyling's paternal progenitor was an opulent soap- 
 boiler, who was not ashamed, during her childhood, to drive 
 an unsavory cart from one kitchen door to another. But he 
 counted his thousands now by the hundred, and his children 
 ranked, as a consequence, among the " upper ten." 
 
 She continued her charitable remarks : " Somehow the old 
 lady contrived to keep up the appearance of wealth, and 
 married both daughters off before their second season. Mr. 
 Benson is reputed to be rich ; but for that matter these 
 Southern planters are all said to be rolling in gold. Mr. 
 Hammond is certainly making money. Mr. Greyling saya 
 he is a splendid business man." 
 
 " He sailed for Europe a week ago, you know." 
 
 " Yes ; and since then madame has been the belle of the 
 ball. The old story ' When the cat is away, the mice will 
 play.' " 
 
 " Sarah," said Philip, an hour later, " will you walk on 
 the balcony with me ? You are heated, and the air is balmy 
 as Georgian breezes. It will do you good." 
 
 "Are you going to scold me?" she asked, archly, before, 
 she would take his arm. 
 
 " No. I have no right to do it if I had the disposi* 
 tion." 
 
 There was no moon ; but the sky was strewed thickly 
 with stars, and the white foam of the surf caught and held
 
 214 THE EMPTY HEART; OB, 
 
 tremulously the sparkles from the bright watchers aVove. 
 Philip did not appear disposed to converse, and Sarah 
 waited for him to begin. Meanwhile, they strolled on and 
 on, until the murmur of the ocean was louder than the 
 music of the saloon band. The sea moaned to the stars, as 
 it had done to the sunless July heavens on that day so 
 memorable in the history of one of the pair the day of 
 shipwreck stories and a real shipwreck none the less 
 disastrous, that the treasures and their loss were hidden 
 from all but the bereaved one. 
 
 To many it is appointed to lead two lives : to think and 
 feel as well as to act a double part ; to separate, as inexorably 
 as human will can decree, past hopes and joys past sorrows, 
 and, if practicable, past memories from the thoughts and 
 emotions of the to-day in which they exist. Thousands 
 keep up the barrier until death ends the need of watchfulness 
 and labor ; the coffin-lid covers the faithful mask that has 
 smiled so patiently and so long above an aching heart. 
 Yet dammed up passion is a dangerous thing. If hearts 
 were so constituted that they could be drained like pestilen- 
 tial marshes, the flood conducted off in harmless and straight 
 channels, then, indeed, might hypocrisy rejoice, and sleek 
 decorum sit down at ease. As it is, genteel propriety and 
 refined reticence are perpetuity endangered by the unfore- 
 seen swell of some intermittent spring, or the thawing of 
 some ice-bound stream, that is liable to overleap or tear 
 away the dike ingulfing in an instant the elaborate struc- 
 tures years of toil have cheaply purchased. 
 
 Such was the moment when, withdrawing her hand from 
 Philip's arm, Sarah struck suddenly fiercely upon her 
 breast, and cried : " Oh ! why cannot I die and end this mis- 
 ery!" 
 
 " Sarah !" 
 
 " I say I can bear it no longer ! Others do not suffer thus I
 
 215 
 
 If they do, they die, or lose their reason. I will not enduro 
 it, I tell you !" 
 
 Sister !" 
 
 " Do not call me by that name, Philip Benson ! You 
 know better !" 
 
 She leaned forward on the balcony railing, her eyes fixed 
 on the sea. Her deep, hurried breathing was like the pant 
 of some worried animal, gathering strength, and, with it, 
 courage for renewed conflict. To her last words the mys- 
 terious plaint of the sea lent meaning. Philip, too, remem- 
 bered that barren shore, the tumbling breakers, the solitary 
 sea-bird's labored flight landward. Was this his work ? It 
 was but a flicker of truth dashed out the next second by a 
 blow of indignant will. 
 
 " You may forbid me to address you by this title, Sarah ; 
 but you cannot hinder me from sympathizing in your sorrow, 
 and trying to befriend you. If my companionship is unwel- 
 come, allow me to conduct you to your room. I cannot 
 leave you alone here, where there is continual passing." 
 
 " You are right. Regard for appearances is the one thing 
 needful," she said, mockingly. " I must be a dull scholar, 
 if I have not learned that. I am sane again now fit to as- 
 sociate with other sane people. If you please, we will go to 
 the ball-room instead of up-stairs. I am not a candidate for 
 Bolitary confinement yet !" 
 
 " Mrs. Hammond, I heard a gentleman inquiring anxious- 
 ly for you just now !" called out a lady, in passing. "He 
 said that you promised to dance with him." 
 
 " I did. Thank you for reminding me. A little faster, 
 my good brother !" 
 
 She hurried him into the saloon, where they were met 
 immediately by her would-be partner. Philip, bewildered 
 and uneasy, watched her motions through the evolutions of 
 the lance. She talked rapidly and animatedly, keeping hor
 
 216 THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 cavalier in a broad smile, and confirming her lately won 
 reputation of a wit. Her eyes shone ; her color was high ; she 
 was " really handsome" as the " censure committee" had 
 occasion to remember at a later day, when it was spoken of 
 in a very different tone from that employed by a member of 
 the distinguished sisterhood in addressing Mrs. Hunt on this 
 night. 
 
 " You are a fortunate mother, my dear madam, to have 
 two such brilliant daughters. They eclipse the girls en- 
 tirely." 
 
 " I have nothing to complain of in my children, ma'am. 
 I done I did my best by them, and they have repaid me a 
 thousandfold." 
 
 " Now, I am ready !" said Sarah to her brother-in-law. 
 " I release you, Mr. Burley !" waving her hand to her late 
 attendant as a princess might to a courtier. 
 
 Vexed and disturbed by her unsettled manner and queer 
 freaks, Philip gave her his arm, and conducted her through 
 the throng. 
 
 " Lewis has had fair winds, and must now be nearing the 
 end of his voyage," he remarked, as they sauntered along 
 the piazza. 
 
 " Ah ! he is on the sea to-night ! How strange ! I had 
 not thought of that !" 
 
 " I see nothing wonderful in the idea, as he has not had 
 time to cross the Atlantic since he left these shores," return- 
 ed Philip, dryly. " The oddest thing I can think of at pres- 
 ent is yourself, Sarah !" 
 
 " I am aware of that, Philip. Do not speak harshly to 
 me ! You may be sorry for it some day." 
 
 They were at her door. Her softened manner moved him, 
 and as she offered her hand, he took it with fraternal warmth. 
 
 " Forgive me, if I was rough ! I have not understood 
 you this evening."
 
 HUSKS. 217 
 
 " It is not likely that you ever will. Time aras but it is 
 folly to allude to that now ! Think of me as kindly as you 
 can will you ? You have wounded me sometimes, but 
 never knowingly. I cannot say that of many others with 
 whom I have had dealings. Good-night." 
 
 The little parlor was still. Mrs. Hammond never kept 
 her maid up to assist in her disrobing, if she intended re- 
 maining out until a late hour. Nurse and child were quiet 
 in the adjacent nursery. Closing the door of communication, 
 Sarah stripped her hair and arras of their ornaments ; took 
 off her diamond pin, then her rings, and laid them away in 
 her jewelry case ; divested herself of her rich dress, and drew 
 from her wardrobe a plain, dark wrapper, which she put on. 
 Next she sat down at her writing-desk, selected a sheet of 
 paper, and wrote a single line when a thought struck her, 
 and she stopped. A momentary irresolution ended in^her 
 tearing off a strip containing Avhat she had penned, and 
 holding it in the flame of the Limp until it was consumed. 
 " Best not ! best not !" she muttered. " Doubt may bring 
 comfort to the one or two who will need it. Let them 
 doubt ! Save appearances if you can, my poor mother 
 would say." A smile of unutterable scorn glimmered over 
 her face. She pushed away the desk and walked to the 
 window. 
 
 From the distant ball-room the throbbing waves of music 
 still rolled past on the summer air, and blent with them 
 was the solemn undertone'of the surf. Did men call its 
 mighty voice a monotone ? To her it was eloquent of many 
 and awful things not frightful. What was there of terror 
 in thoughts of rest, endless sleep, rocked for ages by the 
 rising and falling tide, hushed into dreamless repose by the 
 music of the billows ? No more of a vain and wearisome 
 life ; no more baffled aspirations and crushed affections ; no 
 more disheartening attempts to find and reach the right 
 10
 
 218 THE EMPTY HEART; OB, 
 
 to follow in the steep, rugged path of duty, and shun the 
 easy, alluring way to which heart and memory were ever 
 pointing ; no more of stern rebuke and sneering taunt ; no 
 more galled pride and outraged womanhood ; no more 
 lying gayety, smiles, and repartee, when the spirit was 
 writhing in impotent agony, longing to shriek out its inten- 
 sify of woe! Only sleep, rest, peace! 
 
 " Sleep ! rest ! peace !" She gasped the words feverishly, 
 as they seemed to come to her on the breeze. Might she 
 not seek these now! now! Not yet! The grounds, the 
 beach were still populous with groups of strollers. She 
 would be seen perhaps recognized probably frustrated 
 in her purpose. Leaning her head against the casement, 
 she sat there an hour not debating, still less wavering in 
 her resolve, only waiting until flight would be safe and 
 thinking! thinking! thinking! until her brain whirled. 
 
 A thwarted, warped, disjointed existence had hers been- 
 .from its beginning. Denied food suitable for her mental 
 and spiritual need ; denied sympathy, air, and expression of 
 suffering ; under the slow torture of this starvation, every 
 avenue to goodness and liberty hedged up, and, for the 
 future, temptation, repudiation, loneliness, perhaps a sullied 
 name who could dispute her right to try release by one 
 brief pang she alone could feel ? Who would miss her ? 
 Not the world that flattered her wealth and wit, her laces, 
 silks, and diamonds ; not the mother and sister who wor- 
 shipped the gilded Juggernaut " Society ;" not he who was 
 that night sleeping soundly on the same sea that would em- 
 bosom her in her sweeter, deeper slumber. Shocked he 
 might be at an event so unexpected and uncommon. His 
 next sensation would be a relief at his deliverance from a 
 burden, at his freedom to come and go as he liked no 
 longer banished by her obstinacy and his own. He had 
 loved her as most other men do their wives a bond
 
 HUSKS. 219 
 
 too weak to bear a heavy blow at their self-love. She had 
 sinned beyond forgiveness in his eyes. 
 
 Of Philip she thought with a mingling of tenderness and 
 resentment. His unthinking gallantry had been the root 
 of her sorest trouble ; but it was unthinking, not wilful 
 wrong. Nor was she the only sufferer. His heart was 
 well-niuh. as hungry as hers. Within the past week, she had 
 seen this more clearly than ever before, and he had felt it ! 
 Lucy's narrow mind, her insipidity, her inordinate vanity, 
 her selfish idolatry of pleasures that 'wearied him ; her 'dis- 
 relish for intellectual and domestic enjoyments, displayed in 
 its most objectionable form, in her indifference to his com- 
 pany, and her neglect of her child these were working out 
 their legitimate result in his alienation from her, and attrac- 
 tion towards the once slighted sister, whose large heart and 
 mental gifts he now valued at their true worth. To repel 
 him, as much as to drown her cares, Sarah had plunged 
 into the vortex she had heretofore avoided. She had heard 
 that there was temporary solace in this species of dissipa- 
 tion. The cup was, for her, sparkleless and bitter, from 
 surface to dregs. 
 
 She was saving him with herself by this final step ! He 
 would realize this truth, in the throe that would shake his 
 soul when he found that she was gone; perhaps, even in 
 that anguished hour, would bless her for having showed to 
 him, while she drove him back from, the abyss they were 
 together approaching. It was no idle vaunt she had made 
 to Lewis, that the principles inherited from lifer father would 
 save her from overt sin. Thus, thus would she flee the 
 temptation, when the heart had left the will to battle 
 unaided. 
 
 Her father ! the gray old man who was toiling through 
 this summer's heat, in his deserted home, as he had through 
 so many summers gone! he who had never given her au
 
 220 THE EMPTY HEART; OB, 
 
 impatient or angry word whose pride and joy she still 
 was ! The stroke would be severe upon him. Yet he 
 would not refuse comfort. There were still left to him hia 
 boys fine, manly fellows ; Jeannie and his baby grandchild 
 his lost daughter's gift. Tears rushed into the hot, wild 
 eyes with this last image, but she would not let them flow. 
 
 "Is it not b'etter that I should leave her now, when tho 
 parting will give her no pain, when one little week will 
 blot out my memory entirely from her mind, than to wait 
 until she can recollect and miss me ?" 
 
 The music had ceased. The revellers had dropped away 
 faster than they had collected, when once the movement 
 was made to retire. The murmur of the deep was the 
 only sound abroad ; the stars were the only sentinels. 
 Sarah arose, threw a shawl over her head, and cautiously un- 
 locked the door. A strong rush of air blew it from her hold, 
 and as she caught it, to draw it after her, she trod upon 
 gome object lying on the floor. Mechanically she stooped 
 to pick it up. It was an infant's shoe, a dainty little gaiter, 
 that peeped, during the day, from beneath Baby Belle's 
 white skirt. To Sarah's touch it seemed that the lining 
 still retained the warmth of the child's foot. 
 
 Never, oh, never, was the patter of those baby feet to 
 make glad music for the mother's ear ! Others must guide 
 and sustain her trial steps ; others smooth her daily path ; 
 others direct the inexpei'ience of the girl in the perilous 
 passes where that mother had fallen and perished ! 
 
 "Oh, may I^jiot bless her before I leave her forever?" 
 she cried to stern Resolution. And Conscience rejoined, 
 with meaning severity : " Is it you who would breathe a 
 blessing above her purity ?" 
 
 " Suffer me, then, to take the farewell look I dared not 
 grant myself before !" 
 
 And while Resolution faltered at the impassioned appeal^
 
 221 
 
 she opened the nursery door and stole to the side of the 
 crib. The night-lamp shed a feeble halo over the table 
 whereoH it stood. The rest of the .room was in darkness. 
 Mary's light bedstead was close to the crib. Was hers 
 that hard, short breathing, that sent a start and chill 
 through the hearer ? A touch to the lamp threw a blaze 
 of light over nurse and child. A sharp cry rang through 
 the chamber. 
 
 " Mary ! Mary ! get up !" 
 
 The girl sprang to the floor before she comprehended the 
 meaning of the alarm. Mrs. Hammond had sunk into a 
 chair beside the crib, from which she had snatched her 
 infant. Baby Belle's head was strained back; her hands 
 clenched ; her limbs stiffened in a deathlike spasm. The 
 eyes were rolled out of sight under the lids ; and the four 
 little teeth her " most precious pearls," the fond mother 
 had culled them were hard-locked within the purple lips. 
 
 Terrified as she was, Mary had the presence of mind- to 
 run for assistance. Mrs. Hunt and a physician were soon 
 on the spot, and every appliance of the healing art that 
 promised relief to the sufferer was used, but with partial 
 effect. Sarah saw nothing but the child ; heard nothing 
 but the doctor's calm orders. 
 
 " You do not try to help her !" she said, impatiently, as 
 a convulsion, more fearful than any that had preceded it, 
 seized the delicate frame. 
 
 " I could not do more, were it my own child, madam !" 
 
 He was an elderly man, whose charity for fashionable 
 mothers was very scant, and, having seen Mrs. Hammond 
 in the ball-room the evening before, he was not prepared 
 for the solicitude she manifested. 
 
 " You had better let the nurse take her !" he said, more 
 gently, as Sarah, with difficulty, held down the struggling 
 hands that might do hurt to the head and face.
 
 222 THE EMPTY HEART; OK, 
 
 "No! I will have no one touch her but myself!" 
 
 The morning broke, the day heightened into noon, and 
 the paroxysms only t abated in violence as the babe's 
 strength declined. Steadfast to her word, the mother had 
 not once resigned her. She had herself immersed her in 
 the warm baths, applied the poultices, and administered the 
 medicines prescribed. Mrs. Hunt was compassionate and 
 active ; Mary sorrowful, and prompt with whatever service 
 she could perform ; Lucy frightened and idle. 
 
 Philip, who had often been in the outer room to make 
 inquiries and offer aid, if any were required of him, was 
 told, just before sunset, that he could go into the 
 ^chamber. Mrs. Hunt invited him, and the information she 
 added gave to his countenance a look of heartfelt sadness 
 as he followed her. Sarah sat in the middle of the room, 
 so altered that he could scarcely credit the fact of her iden- 
 tity with the being he had parted from the previous night. 
 Her eyes were sunken, her features sharpened, and her 
 complexion had the dead, grayish hue of an old woman's : 
 In her arms lay the babe, and, as she crouched over it, her 
 mien of defiant protection suggested to him the idea of a 
 savage animal guarding her young. He could not say 
 whether or not she was aware of his presence, until he knelt 
 by the dying child and called it by name. 
 
 " Baby Belle, do you know Uncle Philip ?" 
 
 The dark eyes, soft still through the gathering film, 
 moved slightly, and Sarah said 
 
 " Speak to her again !" 
 
 "Will Baby Belle come to uncle?" 
 
 This time there was no sign of consciousness. The wee 
 hands clasped in the mother's grew colder and colder, and 
 ihe breath fluttered slowly through the parted lips. The 
 end was near, and Philip's pitying accent expressed his 
 aense of this.
 
 223 
 
 " Give her to me, dear Sarah ! It is not right for you to 
 keep her longer." 
 
 " She is mine /" 
 
 The glare that came to her eye with the three words 
 revealed a desperation that would have done battle with 
 the King of Terrors, had he appeared hi visible shape to 
 claim his victim. 
 
 More faintly, slowly, trembled the life over the sweet 
 mouth, and the hands, like waxen shapes, lay pulseless in the 
 mother's clasp ; while through the silent room flowed the 
 dirge of the sea. Shaken by the freshening breeze of even- 
 ing, the shutters of the western window swung ajar, letting 
 in a golden ray upon mother and child, and along lhat path 
 of light the untarnished soul of Baby Belle was borne by its 
 waiting angel home !
 
 224 THE EMPTY HEART; OB. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 AUNT SAKAH sat in the wide porch at the back of her house, 
 knitting in hand. It was a still, but not oppressive August 
 afternoon. There was not a ruffle on the bright surface of 
 the river, and the long meadow grass was as smoothly spread 
 out in the yellow sunshine. From the poultry-yard on the left 
 arose a pleasant murmur, and now and then a stray hen tip 
 toed around the end of the house, singing idly as she rambled. 
 Charley lay on the green mound his old reading-room 
 with a book before him, and to him Aunt Sarah's motherly 
 eyes turned most frequently. Those kindly orbs were dimmer 
 than they were two summers ago, and the gentle face was a 
 thought more pensive. A glance into the sitting-room win- 
 dow, from where she sat, would have showed one Uncle Na- 
 than's empty arm-chair in the chimney corner, and above it 
 were suspended his cane and broad-brimmed hat, just as he 
 had put them off when- he took his departure for a country 
 where neither shelter nor staff is needed. Aunt Sarah's cap 
 had a widow's border now; and in her faithful heart there 
 was a sadder void than the death of her children had crea- 
 ted loving parent though she was and yet more plentiful 
 springs of sympathy for others bereaved and suffering. 
 
 Her rocking-chair was set near the entrance of the hall 
 that bisected the dwelling; and the front and back doors 
 being open, she had a fair view of the public road, whenever 
 she chose to look up the lane. The Shrewsbury stage met 
 the boat at four o'clock, or soon after; and hearing a rumbling
 
 HUSKS. 225 
 
 along the highway, which she knew presaged its transit 
 through this end of the village, the old ladv leaned forward to 
 catch a glimpse of the trunks upon the roof; this being all 
 she could distinguish with certainty above the fence. 
 
 " Why, it is stopping here !" she ejaculated, getting up to 
 btain a better look. " Who upon earth can it be ?" 
 
 The coach rolled on, and the passenger for the farm-house 
 came through the gate and down the lane. She was dressed 
 in black, wore a crape veil, and carried a small hand-trunk. 
 Witli hospitable instinct, Aunt Sarah advanced to the front 
 porch to meet her, still entirely in the dark as to who it 
 could be." 
 
 " She has a different look from any of the neighbors ; and 
 there's nobody in York that would be likely to come to see 
 me, except Betsey's people, and it can't be either of her girls !" 
 
 At this stage of her cogitations, the visitant reached the 
 step on which the hostess stood, and put away the long veil 
 from a face so worn and seamed with grief, so hollow-eyed 
 and old,that the good aunt screamed outright in her distressed 
 astonishment 
 
 " Sarah, dear child ! can this be you ?" 
 
 " What I am now, Aunt Sarah. May I come in and stay 
 with you a little while ?" 
 
 " Stay with me, poor dai-ling ! As long as you like, and 
 welcome ! Come right in ; you elon't look fit to stand !" 
 
 She was not ; for, now that the necessity for exertion was 
 removed, she was faint and trembling. Aunt Sarah helped 
 her up-stairs to the room she had occupied at her former visit, 
 undressed her, and put her to bed. Sarah submitted like a 
 child, too much exhausted to resist being made an invalid of, 
 or to offer any explanation of her singular apparition. She 
 had not slept an hour at a time for many nights ; yet when 
 she had drunk a cup of tea, and tried to eat a bit of toast her 
 aunt prepared and brought up tp her, she fell into a profound 
 10*
 
 226 THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 sluinbe-i, vhich lasted until long after sunrise on the follow- 
 ing morning. Unclosing her eyes then, they rested upon the 
 dear face, shaded by the widow's cap, that watched at her 
 bedside. A shadowy phantom of a smile flitted over her 
 features at the recognition. 
 
 " It was not a dream, then ?" she said, languidly. " Bu 
 I have dreamed of you often, of late every night in which I 
 have had any sleep. Aunt Sarah, I must tell you why I came 
 to you !" 
 
 " Not now, dear," Aunt Sarah hastened to say, seeing the 
 wild stare and the cloud return to her countenance. "Wait 
 until you are stronger. I will bring up your breakfast, and 
 when you have eaten it, you may try to dress, if you like. 
 There will be time enough for your story, by and by. Char- 
 ley is in a great fidget to see you." 
 
 Sarah submitted to the delay ; but it was plain that she 
 was not satisfied with it, and that her mind would be easier 
 when once the tale was told. Aunt Sarah hindered her no 
 longer a time than sufficed for her to take the much needed 
 refreshment, to bathe and dress, and to see and exchange a 
 few sentences with Charley, who supported her down to the 
 sitting-room. There, resting among the pillows of the 
 lounge, Aunt Sarah beside her, with the ubiquitous knit- 
 ting-work in hand, lest too close observation should con- 
 fuse her niece, the stricken one unfolded the whole of her 
 sad history. 
 
 No more affecting proof could have been given of her 
 prostrated mind and will than this unreserved recital. The 
 secret she had sold conscience and liberty to preserve, she 
 communicated now without a blush. Here where she 
 had formed the intimacy that had shadowed so darkly her 
 after days she detailed every step of the wrong course to 
 which this weakness was a key ; went over all the stormy 
 parting with her husband ; her conviction of the mutual
 
 HUSKS. 227 
 
 peril she and Philip were tempting in their daily com- 
 munion; her resolve of self-destruction, as circumstantially 
 as if she were relating the biography of another. 
 
 Aunt Sarah, horrified and pitiful by turns, struggled with 
 indifferent success to maintain equal composure, and 
 against growing doubts of the narrator's sanity. It was a 
 striking and instructive contrast : the world-weary woman 
 returning for consolation and advice to the simple-minded 
 matron, to whom the artificial existence she now heard de- 
 picted its gilded vices and giddy round of vanities ; its 
 trials and temptations were a wonderful, a monstrous tale, 
 as foreign to her sphere of principles and feelings as if they 
 had transpired in another world. But when Sarah came to 
 speak of her child, her manner changed, her voice was 
 hoarse and uneven, and over the care-worn visage there 
 went such alternations of fierceness and heart-breaking sor- 
 row that the listening mother, upon whose soul the shadow 
 of her own childrens' graves still lay long and dark, could 
 hear no more in silence. 
 
 " My poor girl !" she cried, falling on her knees, and 
 throwing her arms around the reclining figure. "Dear 
 child ! Our Father in Heaven pity and comfort you ! 
 There is no help in man for such trouble as yours !" 
 
 Sarah had not shed a tear in the course of her story. 
 She said afterwards that she had not wept since they took 
 her dead baby from her clasp ; but at this burst of un- 
 feigned sympathy, this gush of pure love and compassion, 
 the burning rock was cleft, and a blessed flood streamed 
 from it. For some minutes they wept together without 
 restraint, and when the more quiet grief of the elder 
 mourner was repressed, the other still clung, sobbing, to 
 her bosom. 
 
 Aunt Sarah held and soothed her as she would have done a 
 sorrowful child; stroking away the hair from her forehead,
 
 228 THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 drying mid kissing, the tear-stained cheeks, with many at 
 epithet of fond reassurance. 
 
 "Let me finish! There is very little more!" resumed 
 Sarah, keeping her aunt's hand fa.st in both of hers. " We 
 went back to the city, and the next day we laid her in 
 Greenwood. We stayed at father's-^I would not return to 
 the house that used to be mine. Father was very kind, and 
 mother meant to be ; but she tormented me with sugges- 
 tions and consultations about my black clothes. Lucy was 
 pining to get back to Newport. She said it was hot and 
 dull in New York. Philip wanted to comfort me, but I 
 shunned him, and I think he was hurt by my conduct ; but 
 it was best, was it not, Aunt Sarah?" 
 
 " Certainly, dear !" 
 
 " I had often imagined myself lonely before ; but I nevei 
 dreamed of such a horror of desolation as filled my soul 
 during the two days that I remained there, after all was 
 over. Twenty times each night I would start from a fever- 
 ish doze, thinking that I heard my baby cry or moan, as 
 she did in the intervals of those awful convulsions ; and 
 then would come in upon me, as if I had never felt it until 
 then, the truth that I could never see her again, and that 
 my wicked, wicked intention of deserting her had brought 
 this judgment upon me. I could not stay there, Aunt 
 Sarah ! I heard other voices besides my child's in the air, 
 and saw strange, grinning faces in the darkness. But the 
 worst was to see that, to every one but me, the world was the 
 same that it had ever been. Father looked grave when I 
 was in his sight ; but the children could laugh and talk as 
 if nothing liad happened, and I have seen mother and Lucy 
 chatting merrily in the room with the dressmaker over my 
 new dresses, while they were criticizing the crape trim- 
 mings. And I had buried my last earthly hope in my 
 baby's grave ! Then I remembered you. and how you
 
 HUSKS. 229 
 
 had talked to me of your lost children, and how you 
 had assured me of a home in your heart and house when- 
 ever I chose to claim it, and I believed in you, Aunt Sarah ! 
 There are not many whom I do trust ; but I was sure you 
 never said what you did not mean. I would not tell them 
 that I was coming, for I feared they would prevent me. I 
 slipped out of the house when none of them were at home, 
 and went to the nearest hack-stand, where I got into a car- 
 riage and drove down to the boat." 
 
 " My dear, did you leave no letter to let them know where 
 you had gone ?" 
 
 " No, ma'am. I was afraid they would come or send for 
 me, and I cannot go back." 
 
 " But your father your mother ! Did you not think how 
 distressed they would be when they missed you ? And your 
 reputation ? What will be said when it is known that you 
 have left your father's house, and 410 one knows where you 
 are ? You are very weak and tired, dear ; but you must sit 
 up, right away, and write a note home. Tell them that I 
 will take care of you as long as you like to stay with me ; 
 but don't lose a minute ! You may be in time for the after- 
 noon boat." 
 
 Sarah obeyed ; and the careful old lady hurried Charley 
 off to the boat, with directions to place the billet in the 
 hands of the captain, who was a personal friend, and could 
 be relied upon to post it directly he reached the city. 
 
 Mr. Hunt replied without delay. Sarah's absence had given 
 rise to the most harrowing conjectures, made plausible by 
 her extreme melancholy and fitful behavior since her infant's 
 death. The police had been privately notified of her dis- 
 appearance, and cautiously worded advertisements inserted 
 in the papers. He regretted to add that Mr. Marlow, who, 
 as Mr. Hammond's nearest friend, was informed of the dis- 
 tressing occurrence, had thought proper to communicate the
 
 230 THE EMPTY II E A 11 T J OB, 
 
 intelligence to Mr. H. before Sarah's note arrived, and the 
 steamer bearing the letter had sailed. Mr. Hunt expressed 
 himself as entirely willing that his daughter should remain 
 in her present retreat until her health of mind and body was 
 re-established, but did not conceal his disapprobation of the 
 manner of her leaving home. 
 
 Aunt Sarah looked concerned as she read this epistle, 
 which her niece had passed over to her. 
 
 " I am sorry for your husband, my dear. This affliction, 
 coming so close upon the other, will be a dreadful blow. It 
 is a pity they did not wait awhile, until they knew some- 
 thing of your whereabouts, before writing to him." 
 
 " I am more sorry that the news must be contradicted," 
 was the reply. " As we are now situated, the certainty of 
 my death would be a relief to him. This was my reflection 
 that night " She left the sentence unfinished. 
 
 " My dear !" Aunt Sarah removed her spectacles, and 
 surveyed her niece with her kind, serious eyes. " Have you 
 made up your mind to live separate from your husband for 
 the rest of your life ?" 
 
 " What else should I do, aunt ? He will never come back 
 unless I promise to love him, and that cannot be." 
 
 " That doesn't alter the fact of your duty, as I look at it. 
 You ought to make him an offer to do right, at any rate. 
 Jt would have been easier and pleasanter to live with him, 
 if you had felt for him as a woman should for the man she 
 marries ; but you are married to him, and in. the sight of the 
 Lord you ought to cleave to him, and him only. That is a 
 solemn covenant, dear ' for richer, for poorer ; for better, 
 for worse !' ' Those whom God hath joined together, let 
 not man put asunder !' It doesn't excuse people, who take 
 these vows upon them when the right spirit is wanting, that 
 they never thought how awful the engagement was. Their 
 obligations are just the same, whether they love or not."
 
 23J 
 
 " The respoiisiDillty does not rest with me. I performed 
 my duty while we were together. The separation was his 
 act, and he must abide the consequences. I have erred 
 greatly, Aunt Sarah ; but ever since the night of our rupture, 
 my conscience has been easy with respect to Mr Hammond. 
 I confessed that I had misled him, and begged his pardon. 
 Could I do more ?" 
 
 " Put the case to yourself, child ! Do not be angry if I 
 speak out my mind, and use against you some things you 
 have told me. When you saw that Philip was growing to 
 like you better and better, and that you felt nearer to him 
 every day, why did you determine to die sooner than to 
 have things go on so ?" 
 
 " Because it would have been a crime for us to love each 
 other infamous treachery to my sister, to his wife, for us to 
 name the word between us." 
 
 " And how would Lucy have felt, if you had come to an 
 understanding and spoken out the true feeling of your 
 hearts ?" 
 
 " Hera 5s a careless, indolent nature, but this insult would 
 have aroused her. She would never have forgiven him or 
 me, had she suspected a warmer sentiment on either side 
 than that of friendship." 
 
 " But an honorable, affectionate man like your husband, 
 who thought his wife the most precious thing in the world, 
 was to forget his disappointment, overlook your lack of love 
 and truth towards him, only because you allowed that he 
 had found out your real feelings at last, and all the excuse 
 you could give was that you could not help them ! You 
 were the one in fault all the way through, from the day you 
 engaged to marry him, up to the minute when you would 
 not say the word he begged from you to keep him at home. 
 It is right that all the advance should come from you." 
 
 High-spirited as Sarah was, she was not angered by this
 
 232 THE EMPTY HEART; OR, 
 
 plain-speaking. "Faithful are the wounds of a friend;'* 
 and she felt that she had but this one. Aunt Sarah stu- 
 died her thoughtful countenance before she renewed' the 
 argument. 
 
 " I am an old-fashioned woman, dear born and bred in 
 the country, where, thank God ! I have spent all my life. 
 But I've been thinking about your story of the way peopler 
 act and feel up there in York, and maybe in all other great, 
 fine, money-making cities, and my notion is just this. I look 
 back of their pushing and straining after riches, and show, 
 and worldly vanities ; every man for himself, and the one 
 that climbs highest, forgetting as soon as he gets there that 
 he was ever any lower, and ready to kick over anybody that 
 tries to get alongside of him ; and I see that they have lost 
 sight of the second great commandment ' Thou shalt love 
 thy neighbor as thyself.' Then I look back of this too, and 
 I see where the greatest sin is, and dear, bear with me ! 
 I see where you have gone furthest astray. Here's a pas- 
 sage I was reading this morning that tells the whole story." 
 She raised the Bible from the table, and laid it upon Sarah's 
 lap, pointing as she did so to these words enclosed in brack- 
 ets: 
 
 " Because thou hast forgotten the God of thy salvation, 
 and hast not been mindful of the rock of thy strength, there- 
 fore shalt thou plant pleasant plants, and shalt set it with 
 strange slips. In the day thou shalt make thy plant to grow, 
 and in the morning shalt thou make thy seed to flourish ; 
 ]>ut the harvest shall be a heap in the day of grief and des- 
 perate so/row/" 
 
 Mrs. Hunt would have regarded as an insult any express* 
 ed doubt of her religious principles and practice. She had 
 a desirable pew in the fashionable church which was nearest 
 her residence, and, stormy Sabbaths excepted, it was gen- 
 erally full at morning service. When her children were
 
 HUSKS. 233 
 
 presentable as to looks, very young babies being seldom 
 pretty, they were offered in fine lawn and Valenciennes at 
 the font for the rite of baptism ; and not a confirmation had 
 passed since her daughters were grown, that she did not 
 fancy hoAV interesting they would look, kneeling before the 
 surpliced bishop, heads gracefully bowed, and the regards 
 of the whole congregation fixed upon them. Sarah never 
 could be brought to the performance of the commonest act 
 of public worship, unless it was to rise with the rest, when 
 a standing posture was prescribed by the prayer-book ; and 
 she shocked her mother by declaring that she only did this 
 because she was tired of sitting ! Lucy's serene grace of de- 
 voutness was beautiful, if not edifying to behold. Those 
 who occupied adjacent pews involuntarily suppressed their 
 responses as her mellow tones repeated, with melancholy 
 sweetness " Have mercy upon us, miserable sinners !" And 
 as the melting cadences entranced their ears, the lovely 
 penitent was speculating upon the probable cost of Miss 
 Hauton's Parisian hat, or coveting Mrs. Beau Monde's sable 
 cloak. 
 
 If Sarah had ever heard of regeneration, it was as a tech- 
 nical phrase of the church articles and christening service. 
 Of its practical meaning, its inward application, its absolute 
 necessity to the safety of the soul, she had as vague a con- 
 ception as a Parsee or New Zealand cannibal would have 
 formed. She had read the Bible in connection with rhetori- 
 cal lectures, and admired it as a noble specimen of Oriental 
 literature. What other associations could she have with it ? 
 A handsome copy of the Holy Scriptures, surmounted by a 
 book of common prayer, lay on a stand in Mrs. Hunt's third 
 and rear parlor, and was dusted when a like attention wag 
 paid to the other ornaments of tables and etag&res. An 
 Oxford edition, russet antique, formed one of the wedding- 
 gifts of e.ich of the sisters, and in due time was laid in pious
 
 2.')4 THE EMPTY HEART; OK, 
 
 pomp on its purple pillow in the library corner. It was 
 hardly strange, then, that the quotation, so apposite to the 
 case in point, should fail to impress her very strongly. A imt" 
 Sarah had gone out, deeming solitary reflection the b^-st 
 means of enforcing the lesson she had tried to inculcate, and 
 after re-reading the two verses, without further appropria- 
 tion of their meanir.g, Sarah turned leaf after leaf of the vol- 
 ume, catching here and there a sentence of the large print, 
 so grateful to the failing sight of her who was its daily 
 student. 
 
 " David said unto his servants ' Is the child dead ?' 
 And they said, < He is dead !' " 
 
 The smitten chord in the mother's heart sent out a ring 
 of pain, and her listless hand paused upon the open page. 
 It is a simple story the royal parent's unavailing wrestlo 
 with the Chastener, the dread end of his suspense, and the 
 affliction, made manifest in the calm resignation, the sancti- 
 fied trust of the mourner. But when received as Sarah 
 read it, with the vision of a similar death-scene intermixing 
 itself with its unadorned details, the fresh blood still welling 
 from the wound made by the tearing away of a portion of 
 one's own life, every line is fraught with truth and pathos. 
 
 " Can I bring him back again ? I shah 1 go to him, but he 
 shall not return to me !" 
 
 " Go to her ! Oh, if I could ! My baby ! my baby !" 
 
 To the low, sad cry succeeded a season of yearning and 
 of tears. It was an echo of the wail of the heathen mother 
 who, centuries ago, having seen her babes slain before her 
 eyes, cried aloud, in unselfish agony, as the sword, reeking 
 with their blood, was plunged into her own bosom u Oh, my 
 children ! where are ye ?" 
 
 Sleep on, in thy lowly bed upon the hillside, sweet Baby 
 Belle ! Like the pale buds that are fading with thee in thy 
 narrow resting-place, thy mission on earth is accomplished.
 
 235 
 
 Joy, young freed spirit, if, stealing through the melodies of 
 Heaven, there comes to thee the whisper of that mother's 
 call ! Fair lamb ! the love that folded thee in the Shepherd's 
 arms designed likewise, in recalling thee, to lure the wander- 
 ing parent home !
 
 236 THE EMPTY HEART; OB, 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 "Mr DEAR LEWIS: Before you receive this letter, yott 
 will have had the explanation of my disappearance from 
 New York. A merciful Providence directed me, in my 
 partial derangement, to this peaceful retreat. Here I have 
 found rest for body and soul peace such as the world could 
 never give the heart, even were it not bowed down by a 
 sorrow like mine. Not that I forget past errors ; nor that 
 the review does not humble me in the dust. I confess, with 
 shame and bitterness of spirit, my wasted years, my un- 
 sanctified affections, my evil passions. But for the assurance 
 of the Father's pardon, the Saviour's loving pity, the black 
 catalogue would strike me dead with horror and anguish. 
 It is a fearful thing to be made to see one's self as she is ; 
 to scan in terrified solicitude the record of a life, and find 
 there nothing better than pride, misanthropy, falsehood, 
 hatred of men rebellion against God. It is a sweet ex- 
 perience to taste, however tremblingly, the consolations of 
 the Friend who invites the weary and heavy-laden to draw 
 near and learn of Him. In His strength not in that feeble- 
 ness I once called power have I resolved to lead a new 
 life. Of the causes which have contributed to produce this 
 change, we will speak more at length when we meet. 
 
 " ' "When we meet !' Lewis, will you, can you forget your 
 manifold wrongs and come back to me ? I do not plead, 
 now, ' for the sake of our child.' Her sinless soul hence- 
 forth can know no pain or woe. God saw that I was not
 
 HUSKS. 237 
 
 worthy of her. and He took her. In the earlier weeks of 
 my selfish mourning, I had no thought of your bereavement. 
 Latterly, I have longed to comfort you, for I know that your 
 heart is riven by this stroke. She was your joy, as she was 
 my angel of peace. Her loss is our common sorrow. Shall 
 it not draw us together ? Yet, as I have said, our estrange- 
 ment cannot now affect her. Thoughtless of evil, she passed 
 away. Had she lived, the Omniscient only knows what 
 grief and mortification might have darkened her pathway. 
 Nor do I desire a reconciliation as a shield from the world's 
 sneer or ban. I hold its applause and its censure alike 
 cheaply. In prosperity, its favors were painted, tasteless 
 fruit ; in adversity, it would have fed my starving heart 
 with husks. But for my sake by the thought of my late 
 and sore repentance ; by the remorse that must gnaw my 
 spirit, when I remember your noble trust in me, your un- 
 swerving fidelity, your generous love and my base requital 
 of it all ; by the sorrow that never leaves me by day or by 
 night forgive me, and return to the home we have both 
 forsaken ! I will serve you very faithfully, my husband ! I 
 have gained other and higher views of the marriage relation 
 within a short time past. However presumptuously I may 
 have assumed its responsibilities, however unworthily I per- 
 formed its duties in former days, I would enter upon our re- 
 ei)2;ageinent with a solemn sense of what I owe to you and 
 to Him who united us. You must have despised me at our 
 parting, and since. Perhaps you have come to think of me 
 with dislike as well as contempt. I will bear this grievous 
 though the burden will be as a part of my j-ighteous punish- 
 ment. I will never murmur never, even in thought, accuso 
 you of unjust harshness, if you will grant me the opportunity 
 to make what amends I can for all you have lost and suf 
 fered through my faulL" 
 
 Sarah was still far from strong ; and wearied as much by
 
 238 THE EMPTY HEART; OB, 
 
 the intensity of her feelings as by the manual effort of 
 writing, she laid the pen down, and leaned back in the 
 cushioned chair. Her table stood in the pai'lor beneath the 
 window overlooking the river. The room . was pi-im and 
 jlean, as of yore, with its straight lines of chairs ; its shining 
 specks of mirrors ; the grita black profiles above the mantel, 
 find the green boughs in the fire-place. The outer scene was in 
 its general features that which the girl had surveyed, with 
 pleased surprise, the July evening of her arrival here two 
 years ago. 
 
 Only two years ! The sufferings and life-lessons of twenty 
 had been crowded into that brief space. The meadows were 
 growing sere, as if scorching winds had swept over them, 
 and the stream reflected truthfully, yet, one could have fan- 
 cied, sadly, the changing foliage fringing its borders. But 
 the sky, with its tender blue and its fleecy clouds, ever shift- 
 ing, yet ever retaining their likeness to one another the 
 river's smooth, steady flow, were the same ; fit emblems 
 both of them of counsels which are mercy and truth through 
 all their workings ; of love that bideth forever ! 
 
 The train of thought was replete with refreshing to the 
 spirit that was striving, in prayer and watchfulness, to adhere 
 to the right, to accept, with meek submission, all that her 
 cup yet held of pungent or nauseous lees. There was no 
 affectation in the humble tone of her letter. She would not 
 begin it until she had mastered the stubborn remnant of her 
 native pride. It should be nothing to her that her husband 
 had wilfully separated himself from her, and refused her 
 overtures of reconcilement. If this was unkindness, it was 
 all she could reproach him with in the course of time they 
 had spent together. He had been a true friend, an honorable 
 protector, and dimly still, but more justly than ever before, 
 she perceived that into his love for her there had entered 
 none of the merely prudential considerations, the cool calcu-
 
 HUSKS. 239 
 
 lations, wherewith she used to account for his choice of her- 
 self as a helpmeet. Where, in the world's heartless circles, 
 could she point out another wife as much indulged, as much 
 honored in public and in private, as she once was by him ? 
 Mournfully, if not lovingly, she dwelt upon the countless 
 evidences of his cordial fulfilment, in letter and in spirit, of 
 his part of their mutual engagement, with something of the 
 sinking of heart the alchemist may have felt when, after he 
 had, by a mechanical and habitual fling of his arm, tossed 
 the eagerly-sought philosopher's stone into the sea as a 
 worthless pebble, he discovered that the divining steel he 
 heldliad been changed to gold by its touch. 
 
 To whom of us has not an experience similar to this come ? 
 It may be that the eyes which once besought affection with 
 dumb and disregarded eloquence are closed and rayless for 
 all future time ; the lips that told, with modest franknesSj 
 how dear we were to hearts we cared not then to win, are 
 now but silent dust. Or, perchance, grieved by indifference, 
 repelled by unkindness, those hearts have sought and found 
 in other loves solace for the pain we, in our blindness, in- 
 flicted. It matters little whether they be dead to all the 
 w,orld, or only to us. In either case, the longing and despair 
 of our lonely lives are rendered the more unendurable from 
 the flash of tardy truth that shows us, side by side with our 
 actual poverty of heart riches, the tranquil beauty of the 
 pictured " might have been." 
 
 Aunt Sarah had gone on a visit to a neighbor ; the hired 
 girl was in the distant wash-house ; and Charley considered 
 it his duty to linger within easy reach of his cousin, should 
 she need him for any purpose. To guard her from all chance 
 of intrusion, he stationed himself on the front porch steps, 
 with his book on his knee. For an hour, he read on unin- 
 terruptedly ; then, glancing up as he turned a leaf, he saw a 
 gentleman coming down the gravel-walk. He looked thin
 
 240 THE EMPTY HEART; OK, 
 
 and anxious, and his restless eye wandered from door to 
 windows, as in expectation of seeing some one besides the 
 boy. With a ready apprehension of his infirmity, only to 
 be accounted for by some prior knowledge of the person he 
 saluted, he took from his pocket a card, which he presented 
 before he shook hands with the silent host. Charley's in- 
 telligent face was one beam of pleasure as he read, and his 
 warm grasp showed his sympathy in the happiness he fancied 
 was in store for his cousin. Inviting the guest by a gesture 
 to follow him, he went softly to the parlor-door, tapped 
 lightly too lightly, indeed, to attract the notice of the 
 musing occupant of the room, then drew back the bolt, ad- 
 mitted the stranger, and delicately withdrew. 
 
 Sarah heard the door open and Charley's retreating foot- 
 steps, and, supposing that he had peeped in to see that she 
 was comfortable and wanted for nothing, she did not look 
 around. The intruder stood still one step within the room, 
 as if unable to advance or speak. The languid attitude of 
 the figure before him, so unlike the self-poise and quiet ener- 
 gy of her former deportment, her black dress, even the wast- 
 ed hands dropped so wearily upon her lap, told of the 
 storm that had passed over her, the utter revolution in her 
 life and nature. A struggling sigh he could not repress 
 broke from the gazer's breast, and Sarah turned hastily to- 
 wards him. She did not swoon, as he feared she would. 
 A thrill, like an electric shock, shook her from head to foot ; 
 a wild inquiry looked from her eyes; a question of the reali- 
 ty of the appearance, succeeding so closely to did it grow 
 jin of her revery ? 
 
 Lewis put this imagination to flight; 
 
 " Sarah !" he said, pressing in his the hands she extended 
 mutely. " They told me you were lost, and I hurried home 
 to find you. I could not wait for your permission to come 
 to you, when I learned in New York that I had a living
 
 HUSKS. li-tl 
 
 wife ! Tlie loss of the child was heavy enough ; but this " 
 He could say no more. 
 
 " I am thankful ! I am glad that you are here!" A faint, 
 beautiful smile shone over her wan features. "And our 
 baby, Lewis ! We must remember that she is an an go] 
 now !" 
 
 11
 
 242 THE EMPTY HEART: OB, 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 To no one except Aunt Sarah were the facts of the 
 estrangement and reconciliation of her relatives ever re- 
 vealed, and within her faithful bosom the secret was hid 
 den as securely as in a tomb. 
 
 Great was the chagrin of gossips, male and female, 
 when it was known that Mrs. Hammond's strange flight 
 from her father's house, which had leaked out nobody 
 knew how, and been variously construed into an elope- 
 ment, a freak of derangement, and a deliberate intention 
 of suicide, according to the de'grees of charity possessed 
 by the theorists, was a very innocent and unromantio 
 journey to the country home of her favorite aunt and 
 godmother, a lady of ample fortune and benevolent heart, 
 who would, in all probability, make her namesake her heiress. 
 Under her care, and for the benefit of the seclusion so con- 
 genial to one in her affliction, and the salt air so necessary 
 for the restoration of her impaired health, Mrs. Hammond 
 had remained until her husband's return from abroad. 
 
 Mrs. Hunt had told Mrs. A., who had told Mrs. B., who re- 
 peated it to Mrs. C., how he had not stopped in New York an 
 hour after he stepped ashore from the Adriatic. He hurried 
 to the bank, and ascertained from Mr. Hunt that his wife was 
 with her aunt, and that a boat which would land him near 
 Shrewsbury was to leave in fifteen minutes. So he drove 
 down post-haste, and jumped on board of her after the 
 plank had been drawn in and the wheels began to move.
 
 HUSKS. 243 
 
 There never was a more devoted husband or a more attached 
 pair, Mrs. Hunt affirmed. 
 
 "More than she could say for that flirting Mrs. Benson 
 and her other half," agreed A. B. and C., unanimously. 
 
 "Her conduct at Newport was scandalous, and would 
 have been outrageous if he had not watched her bike 
 a lynx !" said Mrs. Beau Monde, who had never been able 
 to secure one-half as many admirers as had Lucy, and 
 hated her as honestly as if they were a couple of Biddie8 
 pulling caps for Patrick or Murphy. 
 
 " I don't see why he should have felt jealous, I am sure. 
 He wasn't dying of love for her ! That could be seen with 
 half an eye. They say he loved Mrs. Hammond before he 
 addressed her sister, and married this one out of spite," re- 
 joined Mrs. Townes, who had made beaux yeux at the 
 distingue Southerner for three whole evenings, and won only 
 the most indifferent glances in requital. 
 
 " Mrs. Hammond behaved very prudently !" prorounced 
 Mrs. Greyling, " and dressed very well. I suppose Mr. 
 Hammond brought her some elegant things from abroad. 
 Pity she is in mourning, and must dress plainly at present ! 
 If I were in her place as it was only a baby I would not 
 wear black more than six months, unless it was very becom- 
 ing." 
 
 " She has become very religious, you know," said Mrs. 
 Parton. 
 
 "Indeed ! People are apt to, I think, when there haa 
 been death in the family," concluded Mrs. Greyling, pensive- 
 ly. " I remember, when my poor sister died, I used to 
 look forward to church and Sunday with real pleasure. I 
 could not go anywhere on week-days, you know, although 
 there were piles of tickets lying in my card-receiver, and we 
 had just taken a' bo? at the opera that very winter 1 I de- 
 clare, I should have lost the run of the fashions entirely,
 
 244 THE EMPTY HEART; OR, HUSKS. 
 
 and forgotten people's faces, if I had not gone to church. I 
 dare say, too, that she finds some comfort in religion poor 
 woman I if what the preachers and good books tell us be 
 true." 
 
 Had Sarah found comfort ? 
 
 Look we, for reply, to the chastened lustre of the eye,! 
 where once burned restless fires, like the sunward gaze ot 
 the imprisoned eagle to the holy serenity struggling through 
 and finally dispelling the clouds of memory and regret that, 
 at times, would roll in between her soul and the bright, 
 sustaining hope upon which Faith would have its regards 
 forever fixed ; to her daily life, sanctified by prayer, benefi- 
 cent in good woVks, and by its unostentatious loveliness 
 winning others, first to admire, then to imitate ; to the wife- 
 ly submission and loving kindness of her bearing to her hus 
 band, her grateful estimate of the affection he lavished upon 
 her, the deep, true tenderness growing up in her heart for 
 this fond and noble companion ; look we, lastly, to the 
 snowy marble guarding that tiny mound in Greenwood, 
 where t^e mother once believed that hope and joy 
 buried 1 > know no awaking. 
 
 ' "BABY BELLE," 
 
 INFANT DAUGHTER OF 
 
 LEWIS AND SARAH HAMMOND. 
 
 , .SHE WENT HOME 
 
 July 16, 1858, aged 8 months. 
 
 u lsit well with thee f Is it well with thy husband t 
 
 It U wett with the child f And she answered, 
 
 " IT IS WELL 1"
 
 FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE/
 
 "FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE." 
 
 CHAPTER L 
 
 ' 
 
 " I COULD never love where I did not respect." 
 
 11 Then, if you ever cease to respect me, I shall know 
 my fate without being informed of it by word of mouth." 
 
 "How absurd!" 
 
 Their marriage day was just a month old, and they had 
 spent a long afternoon together, without other companion ; 
 strolling along the river bank, penetrating the cool, deep 
 recesses of the woods, or climbing the bold steeps that jut- 
 ted over the brink of the stream. It was a wild, moun- 
 tainous district, and they had not seen another being 
 besides themselves in their ramble. The wife sat now upon 
 the summit of a huge, shapeless mass of gray stone, and the 
 husband lay on the mossy carpet that covered the broad, 
 flat top of the boulder, his head in the lap of his bride. 
 
 A finer specimen of manly beauty can hardly be imag- 
 ined than he presented in this attitude of careless grace. 
 His hat lay beside him on the moss, and the hand that 
 toyed with his hair had tossed it back from his forehead 
 perhaps unwittingly, more probably because the owner of 
 the hand wished to have a better view of the visage she 
 thought the handsomest in the world. His brow was 
 
 (247)
 
 248 
 
 smooth and fair not too high ; his eyes, large, dark, and 
 soft, had the rarely attractive quality of changing color with 
 every phase of emotion. Just now, they were brown, lov- 
 ing, and happy, with the least possible sparkle of fun shining 
 up through their depths. His nose had the straight comeli- 
 ness and delicate nostrils of the Greek Antinous ; his chin 
 was well-shaped and slightly cleft ; and a jetty moustache, 
 curling and silky, showed to dazzling advantage a set of 
 perfect teeth. If there was a flaw in the face, it was the 
 mouth. Beautiful and sensitive as a woman's, it was a 
 trifle too small, and the lower lip too full to bear out the 
 impression of manliness and strength created by the rest of 
 his physiognomy and his athletic frame. He was six feet 
 in height, with the shoulders and muscles of a gladiator, 
 without the brutal outlines that characterize the coarser- 
 blooded human animal. He was not a dandy, yet the care- 
 ful arrangement and stylish pattern of his clothing, although 
 it was a simple summer suit of light cloth, and the cut of 
 his hair, wotild have told the observant looker-on that he 
 was aware of and appreciated his personal gifts. 
 
 " Handsome Syd Bentley " had been the toast of the 
 girls, the envy of his fellow-bachelors too long not to have 
 arrived at a tolerably accurate estimate of his reputed 
 worth. He had been told that he was irresistible ever since 
 he discarded roundabouts ; told, in so many words, by his 
 mother and sisters, in whose eyes he was a nonpareil of man- 
 hood ; by his masculine associates, some grudgingly, others 
 freely and generously ; and, in yet more flattering language 
 by the alluring glances, the sighs and blushes of his fair 
 acquaintances. Nor were his good looks his solitary recom- 
 mendation to popular favor. His wealthy father had dis- 
 bursed untold sums for his education and travelling ex- 
 penses. He was a fine conversationalist; sang well and 
 danced gracefully ; rode like a Centaur ; was a cunning mas
 
 "FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE." 240 
 
 tor of fence, and a match for any second-rate pugilist in box- 
 ing. To these latter manly accomplishments the ladies of 
 this age are beginning to incline more and more seriously as 
 the preachers of " muscular Christianity" increase in nuru- 
 ^rs and reputation. 
 
 I have said enough of this " pet of the petticoats " to 
 demonstrate beyond the possibility of cavil, the fact that he 
 was an eminently eligible parti. Everybody predicted 
 that he would make an astonishingly brilliant match. The 
 girls admitted reluctantly that he had a right to aim at the 
 " brightest particular " of their shining ranks, while the most 
 envious of their escorts " supposed that as society was now 
 constituted, a fellow like Bentley had only to signify where 
 his choice had fallen, to marry whomsoever he pleased." 
 Therefore, when the report took wind and was speedily 
 bruited abroad, that he was paying attention (that is the tech- 
 nical phrase, and a very stupid one it is, according to my ideas) 
 to Kate Morgan, who was certainly no beauty, and hardly a 
 belle, in any sense of the term, pretty heads, not a few, 
 were tossed high in indignant aspersion of the depraved taste 
 of their Adonis, while gossips of the masculine gender 
 opened incredulous eyes and chuckled in malicious glee over 
 this evidence of the favorite's fallibility. I have intimated 
 that Kate had, in the judgment of some, certain rather 
 equivocal pretensions to belleship. Nobody even the most 
 fastidious critics of womanly beauty even called her ordi- 
 nary-looking or absolutely uninteresting. " She was a pecu. 
 iar girl," said her young lady friends, "with somewhat 
 strong notions upon some subjects, but her principles were 
 excellent." Commendation artfully designed to terrify any 
 weak-minded youth from approaching her, and to put upon 
 Iheir guard the large proportion of ladies' men who dislike 
 women of decided character. She had her defenders. Those 
 who were honored by her friendship raved about her Intel-
 
 250 
 
 lectual attainments ; her fascination of manner and speech ; 
 her lofty soul ; her nobility and independence of spirit and 
 thought ;. her eminent virtues as daughter, sister, and friend. 
 One talent all agreed in attributing to her. She was a 
 splendid musician a skilful instrumental performer and an 
 exquisite vocalist. Sydney Bentley was originally drawn 
 within the magic circle of her influence by her wonderful 
 voice, and, his fancy once caught, he shortly became the 
 most obsequious of her slaves. 
 
 "It is sheer infatuation !" sighed his eldest sister, who had 
 her reasons for disliking the match. " I have reasoned with 
 him, dozens of times, about his outrageous folly, but one 
 might as well argue with Vesuvius in mid-eruption." 
 
 In truth, all that was best and most earnest in the nature 
 of the spoiled favorite of fortune was brought into sight and 
 action by this one great passion of his life. It spoke vol- 
 umes'in favor of the original material composing his heart, 
 that self-conceit had not injured it to the extent of disquali- 
 fying it for a genuine and hearty devotion to another. He 
 openly avowed and honestly believed that the lady of his 
 love was his superior, mentally and morally ; did homage, 
 cordial and free, to her character and charms, a tribute of 
 which any woman might justly have been proud. 
 
 It touched Kate Morgan as naught else of appreciation 
 and attachment had ever done. At first, it may be that she 
 was not insensible to the distinction conferred upon her by 
 the marked preference evinced by the reigning idol of soci- 
 ety, for her presence and companionship above that of the 
 beauties and heiresses who strove, more or less openly, to 
 attract his notice. She would not have been woman had 
 not this natural thrill of vanity penetrated her heart and 
 disposed her to partial judgment of her new wooer. If she 
 chose to attribute the dawning prepossession to the love for 
 esthetics which found food for delight in the contemplation
 
 "FOE BETTER, FOR WORSE." 251 
 
 of tliis physically model man, she was not the first one of 
 her sex and kind who has preferred to deceive herself in the 
 like case. As their acquaintanceship ripened into intimacy, 
 and she became conscious of what were his real sentiments 
 respecting -herself, the feminine weakness was displaced by 
 love, the intensity of which fairly terrified her. She was 
 noted among her associates for her critical discrimination of 
 character and motives ; was famed, and, by some, feared for 
 her unerring perception of the vices and foibles that make 
 poor mortal nature a revolting study to people of squeam- 
 ish stomachs, or who like to take the world including the 
 inhabitants thereof comfortably. But, now^ she applied 
 no tests. The most romantic of impulsive school-girls never 
 received an ideal more absolutely upon trust than did she 
 her real flesh-and-blood hero. A hero he was, in her esti- 
 mation -^ the embodiment of all that was lovely, grand, gra- 
 cious, and brave in romance and poetry. 
 
 Their courtship was rapid. It could not have been pro- 
 tracted in the circumstances of mutual attraction I have 
 enumerated. The engagement was not longer than was 
 positively neccessary for the preparation of the trousseau, 
 and Sydney's impatience at this delay was flattering to 
 his bride as it was diverting to his friends. After the 
 wedding a quiet, family affair, according to Kate's desire 
 they set off upon a three weeks' tour of the Lakes and 
 the White Mountains, settling down, in the fourth, for rest 
 and the further enjoyment of each other's society at Hawks- 
 nest, the handsome country-seat of Mr. Bentley, Sen. 
 
 Their ostensible reason for scaling the almost perpendicu- 
 lar face of the rock where our story finds them, was to gain 
 a good view of the sunset on the range of mountains that 
 shut in Hawksnest and the small valley surrounding it like 
 the walls of an amphitheatre. Both had a true, warm love 
 for Nature in all her moods, and a lively appreciation of
 
 252 
 
 attractive phases of these which would have escaped eyes 
 less sensitive to such influences, and less finely trained to 
 note and examine them. But when Kate called her hus- 
 band's attention to the broadening splendor of the West, she 
 had but a slight response. He did not so much as lift his 
 bead from his resting-place, and, looking laughingly down to 
 chide his indifference to the scene, she discovered that his 
 gaze was riveted upon her, instead of upon the distant, 
 hills. 
 
 "What are you dreaming about?" she asked. 
 
 "I am not dreaming. I seem just to have awakened to 
 the knowledge that I have married the most glorious-look- 
 ing woman in the country." 
 
 Kate blushed deeply, and put her hand over his eyes. 
 " Nonsense ! I can say to you as did my shrewish name- 
 sake to old Vincentio, after addressing him as a blooming 
 maiden. It is 
 
 " ' your mistaking eyes 
 That have been so bedazzled with the rain 
 That everything you look on seemeth green.' " 
 
 He let the hand lie where she had placed it. 
 
 "You cannot shut out the picture from my inner optics. 
 It is painted there indelibly. Do you know, you sorceress, 
 that it is a sin for any human creature to worship another 
 as I do you ? " 
 
 The wife withdrew the covering from his eyes, and gazed 
 down into them with intentness that was almost sad. She 
 was actually beautiful at that instant. The cheek, usually 
 pale, was dyed with warm rose-color; the sweeping fringes 
 of her gray eyes darkened them to blackness, and her mouth 
 quivered with a smile the touch of pensive thought but 
 made more sweet. She had a noble, intellectual head, and 
 the lowly bend of this added intensity, not easily expressed
 
 "FOE BETTER, FOE WOESE." 253 
 
 by words, to the devotion that shone through her face, as 
 the sunlight through a porcelain picture, bringing grace and 
 loveliness out of what was, a moment before, a blank 
 surface. 
 
 " It humbles me to hear you use such language, Sydney ! 
 Humbles and frightens me ! I dread the moment of your 
 real awakening, when you shall find of what common stuff 
 your idol is composed. Yet I enjoy the illusion while it 
 lasts. The happiness of one such moment as this outweighs, 
 in my mind, all the grief, pain, and disappointment I have 
 endured in the whole of my previous life." 
 
 "Yet you would cloud this by fears of an event that is 
 never to come to pass! " answered Sydney, in tender rebuke. 
 "This is no wild love-dream, remember, dearest! My pride 
 in and afiection for you, are founded upon the sure basis of 
 a thorough knowledge of your nature ; the matchless treas- 
 ures of your mind and heart. I have seen enough of other 
 women to know how far you transcend them all in whatever 
 makes womanhood adorable ; but " with an impatient, 
 and slightly ludicrous change of tone "as I have often 
 had occasion to remark before, in connection with this sub- 
 ject, where is the sense of trying to express myself upon it ? 
 You are unique, my Koh-i-noor ! If there are blemishes in 
 my diamond, I shall never descry them. My respect 
 increases in exact proportion with my love, until the former 
 now amounts to reverence, the latter again to repeat 
 myself to worship." He drew her lips down to his, then 
 settled his head once more into the position that suited him 
 so well. 
 
 Kate spoke, musingly, after a brief pause, 
 
 " Must not affection and esteem grow together, if affection 
 grows at all ? I could never love where I did not respect." 
 
 She met her husband's rejoinder, that given in the second 
 sentence of this chapter with playful petulance. 
 89
 
 254 "FOE BETTER, FOB WORSE." 
 
 "How absurd! Why not speculate as to your fate, if 
 you were transformed into Bluebeard or Caliban? " 
 
 Sydney was the serious one, now. " No : my natural 
 amiability, and my gentlemanly breeding, will prevent me 
 from becoming a cruel or odious monster in your sight. 
 But I have weaknesses, dear, which you must detect sooner 
 or later, try to hide them as I may and as I shall do. I 
 dread the clear glance of your eye lighting upon one of 
 these, more than I would the frowning inspection of a 
 thousand others. Don't try to stop me ! I am not seized 
 with a fit of ultra humility, nor am I not talking for the 
 pleasure of being contradicted. This is a candid turn 
 that is all I do not apprehend that you will ever think 
 me really base and wicked only that you may come in 
 time to despise me for failings foreign to your upright na- 
 ture. There may be iron gold, if you will have it so 
 at any rate good metal of some description, in my composi- 
 tion, but it is sadly mixed with clay. Eecollect, darling, 
 when you discover what a fallible child of earth your hus- 
 band is, that I had the honesty to warn you of this, and 
 believe, through all the misgivings that may beset you, as 
 to the wisdom of the act that gave your happiness into my 
 keeping, that I am strong in one thing, my love for you, 
 and my faith in your nobility and goodness. I may fail in 
 my attempt to emulate these, but I can perceive their 
 exceeding beauty." 
 
 Kate's eyes were dark with tears, and her voice shook as 
 she entered a passionate protest against his cruel judgment 
 of himself. " A highwayman, or a parricide, could not paint 
 lis own portrait in more dismal and frightful colors ! " she 
 concluded, poutingly. " Are you meditating sacrilege, or a 
 bank robbery ? If I believed one-half of what you have 
 said, I should be afraid to stay here alone with you." 
 
 '* I have not planned either of the crimes you name.'*
 
 "FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE." 255 
 
 The suimy humor, habitual to Sydney, dispelled the melan- 
 choly that had tinged his, to her, enigmatical speech. " But 
 for the fear of having my ears soundly boxed, I might ven- 
 ture upon the assertion that I had already committed both 
 by stealing into the temple of your affections and possessing 
 myself of your most -precious treasures. Look at the sky 
 beyond Round Top ! Did you ever see a more delicious bit 
 of ultramarine ? And the crimson and gold of the eastern 
 clouds vie with these of the west in glory." The moun- 
 tains were wrapped in purple shadows, that would soon be 
 black, and a thin mist was stealing up to their observatory, 
 from the river, when they descended reluctantly from their 
 rock, and chose the shortest path homeward. 
 
 " It will be moonlight, in the course of an hour," said 
 Sydney, on the way. " But, if there were no risk of your 
 taking cold, it wpuld be advisable for us to go home. I am 
 apt to forget that while we are in the country we conform 
 to the primitive habits of the region in our meal-times. 
 Eliza is a great stickler for punctuality. I do not believe 
 that she was ever a minute behind time in her life, upon 
 any occasion, great or small." 
 
 " If we except her delay in choosing a partner for life," 
 returned Kate, lightly, turning her smiling face towards 
 him. 
 
 The jest was not received as merrily as it was made. 
 Kate noticed this instantly, and felt the lack of sympathy 
 in the spirit of her remark, in spite of Sydney's attempt to 
 laugh. He changed the subject by pulling her shawl higher 
 upon her shoulders, and inquiring if she felt quite warm. 
 
 " The mountain air grows cold as soon as the sunlight is 
 withdrawn, " he said. " I must bring an extra shawl 
 along for you, on our next ramble." 
 
 " I am veiy comfortable, thank you," said Kate, in a 
 tone that discouraged further conversation.
 
 256 "FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE." 
 
 The more she thought upon his forced laugh and failure 
 to answer her in words, the more uncomfortable she became. 
 The unpleasant sensation was heightened by the conscious- 
 ness that there had been a suspicion of spitefulness in her 
 reflection upon the spinsterhood of her sister-in-law. For 
 she had not been under the same roof with her a dozen 
 hours, before she made up her mind that there was a strong 
 likelihood that their intercourse would result in reciprocal 
 dislike. This persuasion she had studiously concealed 
 from her husband, and the idea that he had caught a glim- 
 mer of the truth from her unguarded remark was mortify- 
 ing. Else, why should he tacitly decline the discussion 
 of his sister's old-maidism ? 
 
 Stepping over the stones and gnarled roots of the forest- 
 path, and seeming to listen to his pleasant talk upon various 
 topics, a thought struck, like a bodkin-thrust, at her heart. 
 Was Eliza, as his sister, and a blood member of the Bentley 
 family, to be held sacred from slighting, or jesting comments 
 even from her his wife? Was the tie of consanguinity 
 one that would not brook the touch of an alien's hand 
 alien by birth and lineage, although he had sworn, before 
 Heaven and men, that she was henceforward to be the near- 
 est and dearest of all earthly relations ? Another suspicion 
 stabbed her ere she caught her breath from the pain of the 
 first. She had imagined, long ago, that her marriage had 
 been a most distastful one to Eliza. That energetic lady 
 managed everything else pertaining to the Bentley interest, 
 and was manifestly chagrined that the negotiation of the 
 alliance of her only brother with some highly-favored daugh- 
 ter of Eve had not been intrusted to her diplomatic and 
 executive abilities. Perhaps Sydney was fully aware of this, 
 and avoided all conversation that might lead to her discov 
 ery of a circumstance that could not but pain and embarrass 
 her.
 
 "FOE BETTER, FOE WOESE." . 257 
 
 He broke the chain of thought when she had reached this 
 point. 
 
 " I am afraid that you are weary, my pet ! Am I walk- 
 ing too fast for you ? " 
 
 Not at all ! " 
 
 " What makes you so quiet ? " he continued, bending to 
 look into her face. 
 
 "I am never talkative at twilight,"- she replied, arousing 
 herself. 
 
 " Are you not quite happy ? " 
 
 " Of course I am ! " cried Kate, laughing more than was 
 altogether natural. " Of course I am ! Very happy ! 
 Why shouldn't I be ? " 
 
 "I fancied that you spoke sadly that was all! I beg 
 your pardon." 
 
 He had certainly a sweet temper, and his confidence in 
 his wife's word was absolute. It was unreasonable and un- 
 kind to allow a trifle so light to discompose her ; but her 
 spirit was still slightly, though not visibly ruffled when they 
 reached the house. As fate would have it, Eliza was stand- 
 ing upon the piazza watching for them. 
 
 Those who have read Thackeray's " Newcomes " can never 
 forget his mention of Lady Kew's little black dog, and the 
 subsequent dissertation upon other curs of the same com- 
 plexion that infest nearly every family in the civilized world. 
 Eliza was the proprietor of this interesting quadruped in the 
 Bentley household, and, according to the custom of other 
 households, more and less amiable, every member of it was 
 in competition with the rest in the laudable task of humor- 
 ing the vile cur, tossing it propitiatory tidbits in season and 
 out of season ; feeding it with superfine dainties whenever 
 it menaced an assault, and redoubling their assiduities di 
 rectly after it had made the round of the establishment, snarl-
 
 258 " FOE BETTER, FOE WOESE." 
 
 ing, and worrying, and biting like any other mad tiling thai 
 deserved a short shrift and a long cord. 
 
 " Don't irritate Eliza ! " Eliza would not like that ! " 
 tl Eliza says this must be done," were unanswerable dissua- 
 sives or inducements in the mouths and ears of every one, 
 from the father down to the least grandchild. Those who had 
 grown up under this regime took it as a matter of course, a 
 condition of their existence, which they accepted with vary- 
 ing degrees of patience generally good-naturedly, being, in 
 the main, peaceable and kindly tempered ; but the invariable 
 policy of -conciliation struck novices and lookers-on as con- 
 temptible in itself, and unjust to the rest of the family. 
 Kate's sense of right and propriety was offended by it, from 
 the day of her arrival at the country house, and hardly an 
 hour had elapsed since, in which she had not fresh occasion 
 for wonder and indignation at the one-sided state of domes- 
 tic government. She had held her peace, however ; with- 
 held from verbal or looked disapproval by the thought of 
 the newness of her introduction to the home-circle, and the 
 fear of offending others with the irascible maiden, with 
 whom, to be candid, she would have relished a rousing tilt, 
 that would grant her the opportunity of giving the virago a 
 wholesome supply of plain truths, pungently delivered. 
 
 "Well!" said the watcher, as the absentees walked up 
 the steps, " I began to think that we should have to ring 
 the alarm bell, or send out a man with a lantern-, to look 
 after you. You have been married about long enough, I 
 should think, to bear in mind that seven o'clock is our tea 
 hour." 
 
 Kate felt the blood warm her cheeks unpleasantly, but 
 she naturally left the task of replying to her husband. 
 
 He laughed good-naturedly. " We have had what the 
 theologians call ' an abiding sense' of that fact for the past 
 But we lost our way coming home, and made
 
 "FOE BETTER, FOR WORSE." 259 
 
 an unpiemeditated d'etowr of, I suppose, a mile and a half. 
 You must overlook our tardiness for this once. It is a 
 mercy that we did not need the man and the lantern, in 
 dead earnest." 
 
 Kate glanced up quickly, her lips forming into a smile at 
 this outrageous fabrication. Sydney's face was as grave as 
 a judge's. 
 
 " You had better keep your eyes open the next time you 
 turn pathfinders," said Eliza, only partially appeased. 
 " Supper has been waiting for you this half-hour." 
 
 Kate escaped to her chamber to lay aside her walking- 
 dress, whither Sydney followed her almost immediately. 
 
 " What an adept you must be in hoaxing ! You carried 
 the last one through with admirable gravity. I was tempted 
 to believe you, myself," she said, finding that he did not re- 
 fer to it of his own accord. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " with a puzzled air. 
 
 " I alluded to the romance of the ' Lost Pedestrians.' " 
 
 " Oh, my fib to Eliza ! I have served a long apprentice- 
 ship at the trade. I flatter myself there are not many men 
 who can lie themselves out of a scrape with a more honest 
 face than I can." 
 
 Kate's hand fell from the collar she was pinning about 
 her throat. " Lie out ! O Sydney ! " 
 
 " White lies, I mean, child ! necessary equivocations, par- 
 donable deceptions, agreeable exaggerations, and the like. 
 How shocked you look ! It is what everybody does, only 
 some bungle so atrociously in the attempt as to spoil every- 
 thing. Who tells the truth at all times and in all places '? " 
 
 " I do !" was upon Kate's tongue. It was arrested by 
 the recollection that the self-vindication would imply cen- 
 sure of her liege lord, " and make too serious a matter of a 
 jest," she continued, to herself. " But I wish he would un- 
 deceive Eliza without delay ! She certainly believes him
 
 260 "FOB BETTER, FOE WOKSE." 
 
 to be in earnest, and has, no doubt, repeated the silly fiction 
 to the whole family by this time. I do hate to be made the 
 subject of general ridicule, even for a little while." 
 
 Her surmise was correct. Old Mr. Bentley was especially 
 facetious upon the misadventure, advising his son to take a 
 hatchet along when he again committed himself and nis 
 spouse to the labyrinthine windings of the forest, and " blaze" 
 the trees, as he went, after the manner of pioneer back 
 woodsmen, or to fill his pockets with pebbles and drop one, 
 every few rods, as did Hop-o'-my-Thumb on his road to the 
 castle of the ogre. Incident of any kind was so rare in the 
 level life they were leading in their country quarters, that this 
 trifling event was hailed as a godsend of fun. Sydney bore 
 the banter merrily ; but Kate, who, according to her own 
 confession, had a great dislike to unseemly raillery, fretted 
 secretly under the allusions, covert and open, to the love- 
 lorn condition of the grown-up Babes in the Wood, as Eliza 
 styled them, which had prevented them from knowing the 
 points of the compass, or seeing landmarks like Round Top 
 and Steeple Mountain, which were visible for a hundred 
 miles on every side. She would not feign amusement at 
 what appeared to divert Sydney immensely, and Eliza, ob- 
 serving this, directed the full tide of her ridicule in her 
 direction, when her father-in-law inquired into the cause of 
 her very sober demeanor. 
 
 " She is thinking what a beautiful pair of corpses Robin 
 Redbreast would have covered painfully with leaves by this 
 time to-morrow evening, if kind fortune had not guided 
 them out of the heart of the trackless wilderness," said the 
 Agreeable sister. " You should have seen her face when she 
 came in ! She looked as if she had been crying for a week, 
 and two monstrous tears were still 'rolling adown he* 
 lovely nose.' " 
 
 " Eliza 1 " ejaculated Kate, in infinite disgust.
 
 "FOE BETTER, FOR WORSE." 261 
 
 A burst of laughter at her earnestness of deprecation 
 drowned whatever she would have said. The Bentleys 
 always laughed tremendously, upon principle, whenever 
 Eliza essayed a witticism, however lame or flat it might be, 
 and her jeux cCesprits were invariably either clumsy or 
 fatuous. 
 
 " I appeal to Sydney whether you had not been dissolved 
 in grief, all the while you were wandering affrighted through 
 that ten-acre grove," said the spinster, boldly. " Indeed, he 
 confessed as much to me after you had run up-stairs to 
 bathe your eyes in rose-water. Didn't you, Sydney ? " 
 
 " If I did, it was in confidence, and you had no right to 
 make the confession public," replied he, still laughing, at 
 what Kate could not see. The whole episode was foolish 
 and witless beyond expression to her refined notions. Syd- 
 ney marked her downcast looks. " Never mind, Katie ! " 
 he said, affectionately, but still carrying on the jest. " Don't 
 look so reproachfully at me. I'll never tell tales out of 
 school again. I had no idea you would take it so much to 
 heart." 
 
 This was said as they arose from the table, and he passed 
 his arm about his wife's waist as he spoke. She would have 
 eluded the embrace had not the regards of the rest bee* 
 upon them, and her good sense told her that any display of 
 pettishness would be the prelude to a fresh volley of teasing. 
 
 They walked thus to the door on their way to the piazza, 
 when Eliza called after them, mockingly, 
 
 " That's right, Syd ! make your peace with her if you 
 can ! A terrific curtain lecture is in reserve for you, and 
 you will do well to have it over as soon as possible. I would 
 not be in your place for a fortune. I have a suspicion that 
 your better half is peculiarly gifted in that line." 
 
 Again Sydney's sole rejoinder was a laugh, that sounded 
 like a puerile cackle to Kate's excited senses ; for excited
 
 262 "FOE BETPEE, FOE WOESE." 
 
 she was, childish as she would have been ready to call 
 such emotion in another, angry beyond anything that Syd- 
 ney could have conceived possible, regarding the whole 
 scene from his different stand-point. She freed herself from 
 his hold by a movement that was decided without being 
 rude, and, instead of repairing with the others to the piazza, 
 which was the summer smoking-room of the gentlemen, and 
 the resort of the ladies on warm evenings, she turned up 
 the staircase leading to her room. 
 
 " Where are you going, little one ? " called Sydney from 
 the foot of the steps. 
 
 " I shall be back directly ! " she replied ; and when out of 
 his sight at the turning of the hall above, she flew along the 
 passage as if pursued by a pack of furies. She locked 
 her door and fell into her seat flushed and panting. She 
 had been insulted ! held up to general derision ; made 
 the laughing-stock of one who was inferior to her in every 
 respect ; whom she disliked and despised, and her husband, 
 he whom she had named her hero and her master, had not 
 defended her ! nay, more, he had actually joined in the coarse 
 nonsensical banter ! And all through fear of offending 
 that detestable shrew, Eliza. Rather than anger her, he 
 would sit calmly by and see his wife openly assailed, vilely 
 persecuted. Here she found that she was crying fast and 
 hard with vexation, with wounded feeling, she thought. 
 
 In blissful ignorance of the tempest he had aided his 
 sister to raise, Sydney smoked his cigar below, in abounding 
 peace and quietness ; his shapely boots crossed upon a foot- 
 rest, his then betrothed had embroidered as a birthday gift 
 for him three months before, and discussed the affairs of the 
 nation and " our foreign relations " with his father, and the 
 exceeding beauty of the night with his mother and sisters. 
 True, Kate was wanting from the family circle, but he was 
 not afflicted by an absence that must be of so short duration.
 
 263 
 
 He never borrowed trouble this youthful Sybarite, to 
 whom life had, thus far, been a cloudless morning. How 
 was he to divine what salt showers were falling in that 
 locked chamber overhead ? As the red, swollen rim of the 
 moon appeared above the pine-tops, Anna, the youngest sis- 
 ter, a somewhat romantic girl of eighteen, began to warble 
 Schubert's " Serenade." Sydney loved music next to hia 
 wife, and removing his cigar from his mouth, he fell into a 
 sonorous, yet mellow bass, that set the echoes of the nearer 
 hill-tops to vibrating. 
 
 Kate dried her tears when she heard that. " He is insen- 
 sible as stone ! " she said, contemptuously. Until then, she 
 had intended to remain within her barred door until he came 
 to f,eek her, and to sue for forgiveness. Now, she determined 
 not to give him this advantage of a private settlement of 
 tho quarrel. She smoothed her hair, bathed her eyes with 
 ice-water until the lids were nearly bloodless, and descended 
 to take her accustomed place in the evening group upon the 
 porch, with the haughty nonchalance of a young princess. 
 
 " Here is a seat ! " said Sydney, offering a chair next 
 to his. 
 
 She accepted it with thanks. To decline it would have 
 elicited a tender inquiry from him and a sarcastic one from 
 Eliza. You see, she was beginning to fear the famous little 
 black dog, too. But when he laid his hand in her lap, she 
 did not close her fingers iipon it as usual, whereat he txirned 
 to her with a look of surprise. He might as well have ad- 
 dressed the mute appeal to theSphynx, "staring right on, 
 with calm, eternal eyes." 
 
 " I heard yc u singing," she was saying, kindly and pleas- 
 antly to Anna. " It sounded delightfully up-stairs. What 
 was that little ballad you were humming in my room, this 
 morning, while you were sketching the view from my win- 
 dow? 'Lady mine!' were all the words I caught."
 
 264 
 
 That is as old as the hills," said Eliza. 
 
 " But very sweet and pretty, to my taste," returned Kate, 
 quietly negligent of the objection. "Sing it, dear; will 
 you not ? " to the younger sister 
 
 Anna was pleased that her vocal efforts had won the appro- 
 bation of so competent a judge, and at once launched her 
 fresh young vioce upon the rippling stream of melody Kate 
 had designated. 
 
 " That lover deserved nothing less than the loss of her he 
 insulted by his doubts ! " exclaimed Sydney, when the last 
 lines had been sung. "What woman of sense and spirit 
 would endure the reflections upon her constancy set forth in 
 every verse ? They make his loving repetition of ' Lady 
 mine ' an unmanly sneer. Listen ! 
 
 " ' Thou art pore as mountain snows, 
 
 Lady mine! . 
 
 Ere the sun upon them glows, 
 
 Lady mine I 
 
 But the noontide hath its ray, 
 
 And the snow flakes melt away, 
 
 And hearts why may not thine, 
 
 Lady mine?' 
 
 Love without faith is not worth a rush ! " 
 
 " Hearts do change, however," answered Kate, senten- 
 tiously. 
 
 " Not when they have been really won. Once gained, 
 they are gained forever ! " persisted the lover bride- 
 groom. 
 
 " You liked the words well enough when Eita Lambert 
 sang them ! " said the inevitable Eliza. " There are some 
 dozens of songs, all love-sick, that never fail to remind me 
 of the tedious sittings and endless promenades you and she 
 used to have out here, last summer, before she administered 
 the rebuff that sent you flying off by daybreak one August 
 morning, to Saratoga, to find healing for your stricken spirit.
 
 "FOE BETTER, FOB WORSE." 265 
 
 i r ou never knew, I suspect, Kate, that you caught his heart 
 in the rebound ? " 
 
 " I knew qxiite as much about it as did anybody else," re- 
 joined Kate, apparently uninjured by the sudden missile. 
 
 The little black dog was rampant forthwith. 
 
 " Deluded soul ! " with a disdainful sniff. " But as Syd 
 gays about the crying scene in the woods, I wont tell tales 
 out of school. I don't mind cautioning you on one point, 
 though. Rita is coming to us next week. You had better 
 keep a close watch upon your husband while she is here." 
 
 " I will trust him ! " said the wife, involuntarily. 
 
 Sydney's hand clasped hers tightly and warmly, a token 
 of gratitude that changed bitterness into sweetness before 
 his whispered " Thank you, my darling ! " reached her ear. 
 He spoiled it all, the next moment, by saying, in the delib- 
 erate tone of one who is considering a very dubious question, 
 " I am not sure that it is safe for you to place too much 
 reliance in my fidelity under the circumstances Eliza men- 
 tions. I am but human." 
 
 There is but little in the last sentence as it meets the eye, 
 but he contrived to throw into it a mournful significance 
 that excited the mirth of all his auditors with one excep- 
 tion. Kate was sensitive and straightfoward, besides being 
 madly in love with her handsome husband, and she could not 
 understand the motive that beguiled him into jesting upon 
 a topic so delicate as his constancy to her, or what 
 amounted to the same thing her ability to retain the love 
 she had won. Besides being foolish and in bad taste, such 
 sentiments were utterly inconsistent with those he had 
 expressed, not three minutes ago, " Once gained, gained 
 forever." 
 
 She prided herself upon her knowledge of human nature, 
 but she had not yet learned that ninety-nine out of every 
 hundred men, who have achieved a reputation as lady-
 
 266 "FOE BETTER, FOE WORSE." 
 
 killers, never part with the memory of their triumphs in 
 that line, or the ambition to maintain the character in 
 which their laurels were gained, even if they live to be an 
 hundred, save one, years of age. " Still in the ashes " of 
 their ancient charms " live the wonted fires " of conceit and 
 desire to prolong the day of their conquests. Had Kate 
 understood this, she might have overlooked the spice of 
 masculine vanity that prompted her husband's remark, and 
 laughed with, rather than at him, or she would more pro- 
 bably have winced and wondered at the flaw in her em- 
 bodied ideal. As it was, there was left upon her mind by 
 the occurrences of the evening all of them pitiful trifles in 
 the recital a shadow, like that made by an acrid breath 
 upon steel that, however polished, is yet imperfectly tem- 
 pered, or not altogether pure. She forbore to reveal the 
 divers uncomfortable things that had disturbed her equani- 
 mity when she had the opportunity of private conversation 
 with Sydney. Explanation and apology were for him not 
 her. He offered neither. The simple truth was that 
 upon his accustomed ear Eliza's spiteful darts rattled like 
 peas from a boy's pop-gun upon a warrior's helmet. If the 
 patter became too sharp and continuous, he got out of the 
 way, or threw a sop to her ill-conditioned Cerberus. Gen- 
 erally, he made it a rule to forget all about her picayune 
 battery by the time she was through speaking. That a sen- 
 sible woman like Kate should ever attach the least impor- 
 tance to anything his sister might say or do when in " one 
 of her humors " never entered his comfortable imagination. 
 In that one adjective lay the key to " handsome Syd Bent- 
 ley's" character. He dearly loved comfort of body and 
 spirit. The incessant petting that had been his portion 
 from babyhood had not spoiled his sweet, equable temper, 
 or rendered selfish impulses naturally generous and noble, 
 or vitiated the powers of an excellent mind. But it had
 
 "FOE BETTEE, FOE WOESE." 267 
 
 engendered a love of ease, and the belief that freedom from 
 sorrow and annoyance was his birthright. To secure this, 
 he would exert himself as few other inducements could 
 tempt him to do. He got out of, or around a difficulty 
 whenever he could seldom over one; and when the 
 obstacle of his bien-etre a French word he was fond of 
 was stubborn, he had the rare faculty of forging it - - 
 putting it behind hi^ back.
 
 268 " FOE BETTER, FOB WORSE. 
 
 CHAPTER IL 
 
 IT occurred to Sydney, several times, during the week 
 succeeding the evening described in the last chapter, that 
 Kate was more quiet than was her wont, and once or twice, 
 that it was a sad quietness; but his affectionate queries 
 as to the cause of her depression, if such existed, were 
 easily parried, so easily that she was cut to the quick by 
 his seeming indifference to her visible unhappiness. He 
 was the more astonished, therefore, when, upon the day pre- 
 ceding Miss Lambert's arrival, she broke out impetuously 
 with, 
 
 " Sydney, I wish you would tell me truly if you were 
 ever in love with this girl who is expected to-morrow ! " 
 
 They were sitting upon she spot where we had our first 
 glimpse of them, " Sunset Rock, " Kate had named it, 
 side by side, her head upon his shoulder- They had been 
 silent for perhaps five minutes, and he started at the vehe- 
 ment question that ended the pause. 
 
 "Hey-day!" he said merrily. "What is the meaning 
 of this? You are not growing jealous, surely, my pet? " 
 
 " Not jealous ! No ; I should scorn to be that ! At 
 least" more slowly " I think I should! But it an- 
 noys me to hear Eliza's perpetual allusions to your 'old 
 flame'' and < Love's first young dream,' and the need of re- 
 doubled brilliancy on my part, if I would not be eclipsed, 
 and the like unkind remarks. If I knew the truth, I 
 should not be so entirely at her mercy. "
 
 269 
 
 Sydney laughed heartly. " My precious child ! " he said, 
 recovering himself, " what a frightful man of straw you 
 have been manufacturing for your discomfort and my 
 amusement ! Is it possible that you mind Eliza's fanfaron- 
 ades ? They affect me about as seriously as does the rust- 
 ling of these leaves above and about us in this westerly 
 wind. She does not mean one-hundredth part of what 
 she says. It is only her way ; a habit she acquired when 
 she was a gay giddy girl, and has not laid aside. "When 
 you come to know her better, you will learn that she pos- 
 sesses some admirable traits and a throughly kind heart. 
 She always shows the worst side first." 
 
 " He defends her readily enough at the least approach to 
 censure from me ! " thought the wife, sullenly. (l But she 
 may deride, and berate me all day long, and he dare not 
 utter a syllable in my defence. Is this diffidence, or moral 
 cowardice ? " 
 
 Sydney mistook the meaning of her lowering brow. 
 " Will you smile again for me, dear, if I assure you that 
 I was never the least bit in love with Miss Lambert ? that 
 I never desired to marry any other woman than her whom 
 * I now hold by the hand,' whom I hope to hold closely 
 and fondly, as I do this moment, until we go down, hand 
 in hand, into the dark valley at the end of life ? " 
 
 Her disengaged arm crept around his neck, and her 
 blushing, happy face was hidden upon his shoulder. 
 " Thank you ! thank you ! I did not know, until now, 
 that I am so gloriously happy. How I dreaded lest you 
 should say that you had loved and wooed her before you 
 did me ! " 
 
 " Do you know, little one, that it is naughty to be greedy ? " 
 said Sydney, with the playful tenderness that became him. 
 more than any other mood, smoothing her brown hair,
 
 270 "FOE BETTBE, FOE WORSE." 
 
 then lifting her head with gentle violence that he might 
 search her eyes with his. 
 
 " Indeed, I am not selfish so selfish, I mean, about any- 
 thing else ; but I have been miserable, and uncharitable, 
 and cross " 
 
 He stopped her mouth with a kiss. "No more hard 
 words about my wife, madam ! But " laughing again 
 "how emphatically you brought out those words 'that 
 girl ' ! You looked so spiritedly beautiful as you enunci- 
 ated them, that I cannot regret the occasion that excited 
 your ire. Wait until you see the dangerous rival, Katie 
 darling, beibre you conclude that I was ever 'daft' with 
 love for her. She is pretty, insinuating, and clever, after 
 a certain fashion, but she has no more real heart than there 
 is in an iceberg. She is a mere flesh-and-blood doll, with 
 nature's own red and white cunningly laid on, dressed in 
 the height of the mode, with exquisite taste in the matter of 
 ribbons, laces, and perfumes. Further, this deponent saith 
 not." 
 
 Miss Lambert was expected to supper the next evening ; 
 and when Kate appeared in the family sitting-room a 
 quarter of an hour before the carriage which had been sent 
 for her returned from the depot, Eliza met her with a disa- 
 greeably meaning smile. 
 
 " Got upto order, I see ! " 
 
 " How handsome you are ! " said Mrs. Hisley, the married 
 sister, whom Kate liked and esteemed as thoroughly as she 
 despised the elder. " Sydney ought to see you just now, 
 while your roses are fresh and new." 
 
 " He is remarkably well entertained where he is," rejoined 
 Eliza. " I doubt if he would exchange his present compan- 
 ion for any other." 
 
 He had gone in the carriage to meet the guest. 
 
 Kate -as was but natural and seemly had attired her*
 
 " FOE BETTER, FOE WOESE." 271 
 
 self as he liked best to see her, with just a sufficient touch 
 of ambitiou to outshine the new-comer to make her crimson 
 guiltily at Eliza's coarse comment. She had said to herself, 
 up to that instant, that her foolish jealously of the red-and- 
 white doll had evaporated into the merest mist before Syd- 
 ney's emphatic denial that there had ever been any tender 
 passages between him and the beauty. She had been very 
 happy since the restoration of her confidence in him, and 
 she was resolved not to regard pin-pricks, however annoying 
 they might be. So, she smiled gratefully at Mrs. Risley's 
 compliment, and seated herself near Mrs. Bentley, a placid 
 old lady, who had thrown up the reins of government to 
 her energetic eldest daughter so many years before that she 
 had outlived the very memory of freedom. 
 
 " You are looking very sweetly, my love, " said the amiable 
 mother-in-law. " White is very becoming to you." 
 
 "I must beg leave to differ with you there, at least," 
 contradicted Eliza. " She is too dark and sallow to look 
 well in anything but bright colors. It is a pity, Kate, that 
 your style is not more decided. You are neither very fair, 
 nor yet a clear brunette. Rita Lambert, being an unmistak- 
 able blonde, with a brilliant complexion, looks magnificently 
 in white." 
 
 It was very hard to bear these continual exhibitions of 
 personal animosity and violations of the commonest rules of 
 civility and good breeding ; but Kate was a genuine lady in 
 nature and breeding, and she restrained her rising choler. 
 Since the mother and sisters failed to rebuke the rudenes 
 offered her, it was not her place to complain of it. 
 
 She would not have had time for remonstrance, indeed, 
 for the carriage rolled around to the front entrance as Eliza 
 ceased speaking, and the four ladies pressed into the piazza, 
 to receive the favorite visitor. Kate did not arise from her 
 seat, and was left alone in the parlor. She distinguished,
 
 272 "FOE BETTER, FOE WOESE." 
 
 amid the confusion of other voices, a strange one, a mello\f 
 contralto, the accents of which affected the ear as the 
 downy surface of silk velvet the finger-tips. 
 
 " I have been telling him that he has acquired the look 
 and air of ' Benedick the married man ' sooner than any 
 other person I ever saw," was the one connected sentence 
 that reached the solitary inmate of the drawing-room. 
 
 Then Eliza's thin treble jingled discordantly upon the 
 dulcet tones, "Hasn't he? You see, Sydney, I am not 
 the only one that thinks you have been tamed in a marvel- 
 lously short time." 
 
 Sydney made some jocular retort, and as the clamor of 
 women's voices died away up the stairs, he entered the 
 room where his wife awaited him. His eyes kindled in 
 falling upon her, and when she arose to receive his kiss, 
 he smiled and said a caressing word. His next movement 
 a singularly abrupt one for him whose motions were 
 habitually deliberately graceful was to approach a 
 mirror and inspect his full-length image as therein re- 
 flected. 
 
 "Have I really grown so much older and graver, 
 Katie, love? Do you see any marked change in my ap- 
 pearance ?" 
 
 "Since when?" she asked, somewhat shortly. 
 
 His mind was so full of the derogatory criticism passed 
 upon his good looks, that he had not noticed hers , was 
 more blind to the pleasing effect produced by her tasteful 
 apparel and heightened color than his mother and sisters 
 had been. Kate albeit her besetting sin was not personal 
 vanity felt the oversight keenly. 
 
 " Bita Lambert will have it that I am quite another 
 man from the one she parted with a year ago. She more 
 than intimated that I was looking sober and dull, pass t 
 as she put it."
 
 "FOE BETTER, FOE WOESE." 273 
 
 Looking up to scout the assertion of the saucy belle, 
 Kate's face beamed suddenly with love and pride, approxi- 
 mating adoration. 
 
 "Apollo was never more royally beautiful 1" escaped 
 Aer, before she knew what she was saying. 
 
 Royally beautiful ! The epithet was not too forcible for 
 the features and figure upon which her eyes feasted. The 
 honest outburst of the fond heart went straight to that of 
 the hearer. What signified the praise or disapproval of 
 others while this loyal lover was his all his and he 
 perfection in her estimation? Catching the contagion of 
 her impulsive manner and speech, he dropped to one knee 
 upon the rug at her feet, and raised her hand to his lips. 
 "My queen! noblest, dearest and, to me, fairest of 
 women ! " 
 
 She bent low to kiss his forehead, without care or thought 
 of rival or mischief-maker. 
 
 " For decency's sake ! " said Eliza, angrily, from a side 
 door. "For decency's sake, don't be enacting your private 
 theatricals in this part of the house ! You can rehearse in 
 your own room to your heart's content. I never saw such 
 absurd and shameful carryings-on as we have here, nowa- 
 days. Sydney, I am astonished at you!" 
 
 The stress upon the pronoun rendered her insinuation too 
 offensive for Kate to brook. 
 
 " Do you hear what she says ? " she exclaimed, to her 
 husband, her cheeks white as her dress, and her eyes 
 parkling with anger. "Am I to endure this always, 
 without complaint or redress ? to be hourly browbeaten, 
 slandered, insulted, and you not speak in my de- 
 fence?" 
 
 " Hush ! hush ! my dearest!" Sydney glanced nervously 
 towards the open door. "Eliza is in jest" 
 
 " Not I !" interrupted his sister, stoutly.
 
 274: 
 
 " E rerybody laughs at love scenes," continued the worse 
 than perplexed Benedick. "I dare say we you and I, 
 niy pet ! would be highly diverted ourselves, were we to 
 stumble upon a tableau vivant like that which Eliza inter- 
 rupted. She did not mean to wound you " 
 
 " Don't apologize for me ! I can take care of myself ! If 
 your wife has taken umbrage at my language, I don't call 
 upon you to protect me. Only fools and cowards run scream- 
 ing to ' husband,' whenever any one crooks a finger at them. 
 Pah!" and the virago left the field clear, before her brother 
 could recover wits or breath to answer her latest and most 
 audacious remark. 
 
 Kate sank upon a sofa, and buried her face in her hands. 
 "I am very sorry this has happened, my precious one !" 
 said Sydney, sitting down by her and trying to draw her to- 
 wards him. " Eliza was very wrong. She had no right 
 to address you, or to speak of you in the way she did " 
 
 " Why didn't you tell her so, then ? " demanded the out- 
 raged bride, confronting him sternly. " Remember, I shall 
 never appeal to you for help, comfort, or protection again ! 
 no, not if the knife were at my throat, and I knew that a 
 word from you would save my life !" . 
 
 Sydney drew back aghast. " Kate ! are you raving ? You 
 cannot mean to say such terrible things !" 
 
 "I always mean what I say, and I am not afraid to say 
 what I think !" Without waiting to witness the effect of 
 this " double-header," she shook off his hold and marched, 
 out of the room. 
 
 Sydney had a profound respect for appearances ; and sorely 
 discomposed though he was by this stormy episode, he met 
 Miss Lambert, as she descended to the parlor, twenty minutes 
 later, with the urbane cordiality that rendered him so popu- 
 lar as a host, and a handsomely turned compliment to her 
 onimpaired comeliness, which won from her a reconsidera*
 
 "FOB BETTEK, FOE WORSE." 275 
 
 tion of her expressed judgement as to the traces of time and 
 matrimony upon his. She had been premature in pronounc- 
 ing her verdict, she was graciously pleased to acknowledge. 
 He was looking quite his former and younger self. 
 
 " But where is Mrs. Bentley ?" she asked, looking around 
 the room. " I am all impatience to behold your divinity." 
 
 " She has been suffering with headache all day ; she is 
 lying down, just at present. I hope, however, that she will 
 be well enough to appear at supper-time. Her desire to 
 meet you surpasses yours to know her." 
 
 What further lie he would have improvised to cover the 
 awkward gap left by his wife's retreat to the rear was not 
 to be proved. At this point of his discourse he detected a 
 lurking glimmer of malicious amusement in Miss Lambert's 
 eye, and the truth rushed upon him, to wit, that his beloved 
 sister Eliza with her customary contempt for the ordinary 
 expediencies and proprieties governing most family squab- 
 bles had, without doubt, primed her favorite Rita with 
 the latest bit of household scandal before she left her dress- 
 ing-room. Controlling his countenance as best he could, he 
 exchanged a few not very dexterous sentences of badinage 
 with the fascinating visitor j resigned her to his sisters, 
 and wended his way with a quaking heart, to his wife's 
 chamber. 
 
 Her scornful words had cut him deeply, but the smart 
 was already less keen than it had been at first ; and gauging 
 her nature by his own more placable one, he hoped to find 
 her amenable to reason and coaxing. He had no reproaches 
 for her. Why should she not be as willing to forgive and 
 forget ? All young married people had these slight alterca- 
 tions, passing clouds, that made more fair and dear the 
 restored sunshine. Kate unlocked the door promptly at his 
 familiar tap, but left him to turn the bolt for himself. This 
 was an inauspicious beginning, but he must not be daunted
 
 276 "FOE BETTKR, FOE WORSE." 
 
 by trifles. Since the task must be accomplished, he would 
 go straight on with the work of reconciliation. He had ex- 
 pected to see her dissolved in tears, but her eyes were dry 
 and resolute. 
 
 " Come, my. beauty ! " he said, in blithe coaxing. " Tea 
 will be served in a few minutes, and Miss Lambert is in the 
 parlor awaiting anxiously an introduction to you." 
 
 " I am not going down." 
 
 " What ?" queried Sydney, incredulous as to the fidelity' 
 of the auriculars that conveyed to his mind the stunning 
 reply. 
 
 " I shall not leave this room until Eliza asks my pardon 
 for her unprovoked insolence !" rejoined Kate, in calm deter- 
 mination. 
 
 Sydney absolutely staggered to the nearest chair. " Don't 
 say that, my love, I beg ! You do not know how obstinate 
 she isj She will never retract one iota of what she has once 
 said."' 
 
 "Very well! Then I stay here, until it pleases you to 
 take me away from this house, never to return." 
 
 " Kate, my sweet girl ! in mercy to my father, my mother, 
 and the sisters who have not offended you who love you 
 dearly, and who would be heart-broken were they to know 
 of this uuhappy estrangement ; in pity for me, whose very 
 soul is bound up in your happiness, do not persist in 
 this cruel resolution ! You punish the innocent with the 
 guilty!" 
 
 He talked on and on, arguing, soothing, and entreating. 
 Kate stood like a statue, every line of her face fixed and 
 pitiless. In the midst of the scene the tea-bell rang. Sydney 
 was in an agony. 
 
 " This wretched story will go the rounds of my acquaint- 
 ances !" he exclaimed, in frantic despair. "Rita Lambert 
 would enjoy nothing more than to get hold of it, and repeat
 
 'FOE BETTER, FOE WOESE." 277 
 
 it to everybody she meets who ever saw or heard of me. 1 
 shall be the laughing-stock of town and country ! I can 
 never hold up my head in. the world- again !" 
 
 Kate turned. A swift change went over her countenance. 
 It was not relenting, or sympathy with his anguish. It looked 
 more like contempt. "I am ready ! shall we go down 
 now ? " 
 
 She would not suffer the fondling with which he would 
 have thanked her for her altered purpose ; paid no appareni 
 heed to his praises of her good sense and amiability. While 
 he was still pouring these forth she walked past him to the 
 door, and he only overtook her upon the staircase. 
 
 Miss Lambert, who had been gloating over the antioipa 
 tion of witnessing a conjugal thunderstorm, was disappointed 
 at seeing them enter the supper-room, arm in arm, he radiant 
 and talkative, she colorless and taciturn ; but that might be 
 her usual deportment to strangers. 
 
 " She can be agreeable enough, when it pleases her High- 
 ness," Eliza had said to her friend, in sketching her new 
 and unloved sister, "but at other times she is lofty as a 
 duchess. I should as soon have thought of Syd, with his 
 ardent temperament, marrying a graven image, as such a 
 woman." 
 
 Miss Lambert quickly concluded that the present was one 
 of the " other " and ungenial times, and was not daunted by 
 the iciness of the bride's demeanor. The beauty was not 
 the doll Sydney had described her. She was a magnificent 
 blonde, with a creamy skin, dark-blue eyes, melting lips, 
 and golden hair. She, too, had chosen to bedeck herself in 
 white on this evening; a sheer muslin, that floated in re- 
 dundant waves downward from her pliant waist, and rolled 
 in fleecy heaps upon the floor, and that softened, without 
 concealing the bewitching contour of her arms and shoul- 
 ders. A scarlet shawl had slipped from the latter to hei
 
 278 
 
 elbows, and supplied the needful dash of coloring to the 
 picture. She saluted Kate effusively, and the unimpas- 
 sioned reception of her demonstrations put a slight check 
 upon Sydney's recovered cheerfulness. 
 
 " I sincerely hope that your headache is much better ! " 
 said the sympathizing Rita, when she had squeezed Kate's 
 hands very hard in both of hers, and been " so rejoiced to 
 meet one of whom she had heai'd so much." " I have so 
 longed for this moment! Sydney I beg your pardon 
 Mr. Bentley" correcting herself with charming naivete 
 " told me that you were suffering intensely. I am a martyr 
 to headache, myself; therefore I can feel for you. Do you 
 often have these turns?" 
 
 " Very seldom ! I did suffer for a while," replied Kate ; 
 " but I am better now; quite well, indeed, thank you ! " 
 
 Sydney caught the meaning of the equivoque, and bit his 
 lip. But he did not interpret the language of the scornful 
 ray that gleamed suddenly through her long eyelashes. 
 
 " He is consistent, at all events," was her thought." He 
 puts his principles into practice whenever occasion warrants 
 their exercise. He has 'lied' us both 'out of the scrape,' 
 and done it with his usual cleverness." 
 
 The evening went off gayly. Sydney had never shone to 
 greater advantage in person, conversation, and musical dis- 
 play. Rita was graciously lavish of flattering phrases, hon- 
 eyed words, and languishing glances; Eliza, caustic and 
 unscrupulous of others' feelings and opinions, yet in a very 
 decent humor for her. In originality and sparkle of thought 
 Kate bore off the palm, and she appreciated her superiority ' 
 as thoroughly as did the exultant husband, whose beaming 
 eye or delighted smile applauded her every bon-mot. Still, 
 there was nothing that could be mistaken for geniality in 
 her words or manner. Her wit was like the play of northern 
 lights upon ice, weird-like and dazzling. Even Miss Lam
 
 279 
 
 bert was kept at a respectful distance, and there were few 
 who could remain proof against her blandishments. 
 
 "Sydney!" she said, abruptly, by and by. "Again 
 forgive me ! It is hard to forget old habits." 
 
 "Don't trouble yourself to forget this one," rejoined Syd- 
 ney, pleasantly. " < Mr. Bentley ' is very stiff and awkward 
 from your lips. What were you about to say ? " 
 
 "To ask if you saw Rachel as Camille in 'Les Horaces,' 
 when she was in this country." 
 
 "I did. Why?" 
 
 "Look at Mrs Bentley not your mother, your wife 
 as she stands now, and tell me if you do not see her wonder- 
 ful resemblance to the great artiste ? " 
 
 Kate and Anna were engaged upon the famous duet in 
 Norma. Anna was singing, and Kate stood quietly by, 
 awaiting her turn. She wore a dress of white alpaca, with 
 a very full and long skirt. The evening was a cool one, in 
 early autumn, so cool that a wood-fire had- been kindled 
 upon the hearth. Kate had coughed slightly an hour before, 
 and Sydney, taking alarm, had rushed up-stairs for a shawl. 
 Man-like, he had chosen to bring down the handsomest she 
 possessed, a white one, with a rich Indian border, the only 
 article of dress he had as yet given her. She had thanked 
 him, quietly, as he folded it about her, and Miss Lambert 
 had gone into ecstasies over the beauty of the cashmere. 
 Kate wore it, as she did everything else, gracefully. Her 
 white draperies fell in motionless curves and folds, that 
 looked like classic marble. Her eyes rested upon the piano- 
 keys and Anna's swift fingers; her mouth was sad and 
 stern. 
 
 "Rachel was very homely, was she not?" asked Eliza, 
 feigning childish simplicity. 
 
 " She was beautiful when she willed to be so," responded
 
 280 "FOE BETTER, FOE WOESE." 
 
 Miss Lambert adroitly. "You observe the likeness, dt 
 you not? " to Sydney. 
 
 " I certainly do ! It is wonderful, as you say ! " 
 
 He was gazing at his wife, as if he would never let her 
 pass from his sight. Kate's hearing was remarkably acute. 
 She h,d not lost a word of all this, although Anna was ex- 
 pending all the strength of her sweet little voice in agonizing 
 entreaty that Norma would in pity hear her. But she did 
 lose that look of prideful affection, and the smile that accom- 
 panied his reply. 
 
 Eliza saw both, and her acidulated nature overflowed. 
 
 "How differently people are impressed by the same ob- 
 ject! Now, I was just thinking that Kate reminded me 
 painfully of a corpse, laid out, a la mode, in white merino, 
 with a bunch of flowers upon her breast." This referred to 
 a bouquet held carelessly between Kate's fingers. 
 
 " You shocking girl ! " cried Miss Lambert with a hys- 
 terical giggle. 
 
 Sydney was silent. 
 
 Anna glanced up surprisedly, at Norma's delay in begin- 
 ning her part, and all conversation was suspended, as the 
 responsive burst of passionate music filled the room. 
 
 "When the heart is cold that should have cherished 
 
 Every hope of joy it falsely gave, 
 
 Woulilst thou have me live ? Ah 1 no, thou wouldst not I 
 My only haven, alas J ia but the grave 1 n
 
 fX)E BETTE32, FOE WOESE." 281 
 
 CHAPTER in. 
 
 " KATE, I met Rita Lambert in the street to-day." 
 
 "Ah!" 
 
 The interjection did not encourage a continuation of the 
 subject, and Sydney waited a moment before renewing the 
 conversation. 
 
 " She sent her love to you, and told me to say that she 
 meant to waive ceremony with such old Mends, and come to 
 see you." 
 
 "Did she say when I might expect her?" 
 
 " She mentioned to-morrow evening, I think. Will that 
 be perfectly convenient to you ? " 
 
 " Quite as convenient as any other time." Kate leaned 
 over to take up her sick child from the crib, and busied 
 herself with her, smoothing her hair, adjusting her wrapper 
 more comfortably about her limbs, and moistening the hot 
 lips. Then she laid the little head upon her shoulder, and 
 commenced rocking her to and fro. 
 
 " How is she to-night ? " asked Sydney, affectionately, 
 stroking the feverish cheek with his cool fingers. 
 
 He was a very woman in his knack of treating invalids 
 and babies. 
 
 "About the same." 
 
 " Papa has something pretty in his pocket for Lulu ! " 
 pursued the father. "Will she come and see it?" The 
 little one sat up and stretched out her arms. "Papa's dar- 
 24*
 
 282 "FOE BETTER, FOR WORSE." 
 
 ling ! " murmured Sydney, taking the light weight into hia 
 own. " She has fever still, has she not ? " 
 
 " She has, all the time," answered Kate, in patient weari- 
 ness, unable to repress a struggling sigh. 
 
 It caught the husband's ear. "You are not anxious 
 about her, are you, dear? I met the doctor, to-day. He 
 says that her symptoms are the inevitable consequence of 
 scarlet fever, such as he sees in dozens of other cases in his 
 daily practice. He assured me, voluntarily, that there was 
 no occasion for alarm. I am much more uneasy about you 
 than on her account. Children have a wonderful surplus of 
 vitality. She will come out all right, by and by. You are 
 growing very thin and pale, my pet ! It gives me an inces- 
 sant heartache to note and think upon the change. When 
 baby grows up, she must never forget what mamma has 
 done and suffered for. her, during this sadly anxious Fall." 
 
 Kate made no answer. Not a muscle changed in her still, 
 grave face. She wrapped the child's afghan about her feet, 
 as she lay in her father's arms, engrossed by the examination 
 of her new treasure, a picture-book emblazoned in glowing 
 and varied colors. The mother resumed her chair, and 
 seemed to be occupied by an elaborate piece of needle- 
 work. 
 
 But her eye never, in reality, left Lulu. She had been 
 married more than six years, and this frail bud only had 
 been given into her bosom. She was now in her third year 
 a remarkably pretty child, a softened miniature of her 
 handsome father; yet so delicate that the mother had never 
 known the perfect sweetness of proprietorship in this, 
 Heaven's best gift to her woman's heart. One after another, 
 the maladies incident to infancy had done their will upon 
 the fragile little being, until it seemed as if each had left 
 her no strength to meet and cope with the next. Still, she 
 did resist the blighting influences, and, within the past week,
 
 " FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE." 285 
 
 the watchful nurse had allowed herself to hope that the 
 elasticity of constitution which had borne her through, so 
 much might eventually triumph; her cares be abundantly 
 rewarded by the establishment of healthful vigor. She was 
 not dreaming of this to-night, however, while her needle 
 moved rapidly through the slip she was fashioning for hoi 
 darling. She was doubting whether the dainty garment 
 might not become her baby's burial robe. The apprehension 
 had started into life out of the apparent plenitude of her 
 husband's confidence in the child's convalescence. 
 
 " He is trying to deceive me. The doctor has admitted 
 to him the fact that my baby is in danger. His pretended 
 solicitude about my health is a plausible blind for his true 
 feelings respecting her." 
 
 She asked no questions. Her life seemed failing her, 
 drop by drop, as she followed to its heart-rending conclusion 
 the fancy that had gained a lodgment in her mind ; but there 
 was no present remedy for the slow torture, for that felt 
 like mortal heart-sickness. 
 
 " He would not tell me the truth if I begged for it upon 
 my bended knees. If he did, I should not believe him. " 
 
 The shadow of distrust that had fallen upon Kate Bent- 
 ley's spirit with the beginning of the second month of her 
 marriage, had increased steadily until it was enshrouded 
 in hopeless gloom. Never too merciful in judgment, she 
 had brought her kindly-tempered husband easy of con- 
 science and facile of speech to the test of her rigid 
 rules of morality and taste, and found him wanting. His 
 careless tongue she condemned as wickedly mendacious; 
 his dread of annoyancj, his horror of disagreement with 
 those he loved, moral cowardice. Her eyes once opened 
 to these flaws in a character she had wilfully chosen to con- 
 sider faultless, her verdict far outran the positive evidence 
 of his unworthiness, and she believed him in nothing. In-
 
 284: "FOE BETTER, FOB WOKSE." 
 
 stead of regarding his foibles as mere offshoots, the pruning 
 of which would bring symmetry out of irregularity without 
 touching the vital part of the plant, she had settled stub- 
 bornly down into the persuasion that the stock was evil to 
 the root. 
 
 Not to another living being had she ever breathed a hint 
 of the deadly corrosion that was eating into the fine gold 
 of her wedded happiness. She was bound to him for life, 
 and she must support, as she could, the wretchedness result- 
 ing from her great mistake. She would be to him still a 
 faithful and obedient wife yes ! and a loving despise 
 herself as she might and as she often did, in that her affec 
 dons yet clung, like ivy to ruins, to the fragments of her 
 shivered idol. Yet she felt a thrill of pride, sometimes, 
 in his beauty, undimmed by the years that had passed over 
 them since their bridal day; in his heroic presence, his 
 manly accomplishments, and conversational powers. Her 
 heart had not learned to beat evenly when other tongues 
 praised these things in him, and congratulated her upon her 
 fortunate lot. She schooled herself to indifference ; to the 
 mechanical performance of the duties incumbent upon her 
 as wife, housekeeper, and mother. For weeks together 
 she would delude her reason into the conviction that this 
 conscientious regard for moral and legal obligations was her 
 sole incentive in making his home pleasant to himself and 
 his friends ; could meet, unmoved, his loving eyes, and 
 receive, without a quicker motion of the languid blood, the 
 caresses that had once been sweetest luxuries ; could reply, 
 in measured, passionless accents, to his fond inquiries as 
 to the origin of her visible depression. Again, in an un- 
 guarded moment, when the thirst of the emptied heart was 
 at its height, a fond word, an act of tender generosity, 
 it might be the inflection of a tone that recalled those early, 
 blissful days, would rend the frozen rock to its centre,
 
 "FOE BETTEE, FOE WOESE." 285 
 
 and the tide of anguished yearning baffle her attempts at 
 control. 
 
 A.t these seasons she had wept hysterically upon his 
 bosom, or lain in his arms for hours together, the great 
 silent tears gathering and dropping; grief he could not 
 fathom or understand, but which distressed him none the 
 less because the source lay deeper than his ken. Gradually, 
 he had ceased to inquire into the cause of her disquiet. 
 When the fit came on, his arms and heart were open to her 
 as ever, and his fond soothing as freely bestowed. In the 
 cold reaction, the hauteur or apathy that succeeded the 
 indulgence, he likewise refrained from remonstrance. He 
 never complained of her, let her humor be reserved or 
 reckless, gloomy or sarcastic. What he suffered as these 
 periods of apparent indifference lengthened and the break- 
 ing up of the frost occured at rarer intervals, she never 
 thought. 
 
 " Nothing hurts him long ! " she would reason, bitterly, 
 when a pained look crossed his face, or his voice, always 
 gentle to her, had a pathetic cadence that touched her, 
 against her will, in her angry or contemptuous mood. " Na- 
 tures like his have the faculty of forgetting whatever mars 
 their selfish ease. For that matter, how can I be sure that 
 the sorrowful expression and sad tone are not counterfeits ! " 
 
 Lulu was mightily entertained, for a time, with her 
 pictures and her father's explanation of them ; but at length 
 the mother detected a sharper ring in her eager voice, 
 noticed that she was growing excited and irritable. 
 
 "Let me take her!" she said to her husband; "she will 
 weary you. " 
 
 " Not she ! Papa is never tired of amusing his birdling. 
 I wish you would leave her entirely to my care and lie down 
 for an hour, dearest ! " 
 
 Conscious that she had been guilty of a virtual equivoca-
 
 286 "FOE BETTEE, 
 
 tion in not assigning the true reason for her interruption, 
 Kate colored slightly. 
 
 " She is talking too much, " she replied, without noticing 
 his affectionate proposal. " The doctor warned me against 
 excitement." Putting by her work, she tried to coax the 
 little one to resign her plaything. " Lulu shall have it again, 
 to-morrow. Mamma will rock her and sing a pretty song. ' ; 
 
 " No ! " screamed the child, clutching the books with one 
 hand and twisting the fingers of the other in her father's 
 luxuriant hair. "I don't love you one bit! Go away, 
 naughty, ugly mamma ! Lulu will stay with her sweet, 
 pretty papa ! " 
 
 " There ! my baby mustn't cry ! Shall papa walk awhile 
 with her ? " asked Sydney, pressing his cheek to hers, and 
 hushing her sobs as by magic. " And the beautiful book 
 shall sleep in Lulu's arms while she is riding ! " 
 
 Kate had not avoided the slap aimed at her face by the 
 tiny hand, but she paid no outward regard to it. Hetreat- 
 ing to her chair as the child became composed, she took up 
 her work. t( His policy in everything ! " was her medita- 
 tion. " Temporizing and flattering ! raising no issue that 
 cunning or coaxing can avoid; not even to set a mother 
 right, to uphold her authority in the eyes of her child ! " 
 
 Forgetful that she had cautioned him against exciting the 
 sick babe, not two minutes before, she observed, with envy 
 that was not far removed from savageness, the pair in their 
 turns thi'ough the room ; the feeble hand still intertwined in 
 the raven hair, and the weary head sinking lower and lower 
 toward the father's shoulder, until it lay there in motionless 
 glumber. Sydney continued his walk and the low murmur 
 of his lullaby until the picture-book slipped from the nerve- 
 less fingers to the floor ; then he halted in front of his wife 
 with a happy, satisfied smile.
 
 287 
 
 " Papa is not a bad nurse, after all, is he ? Shall I lay 
 her in her crib, or do you wish to hold her ? " 
 
 " She will rest more quietly in her crib. It spoils a child 
 to hold it upon the lap after it is once fairly asleep," an- 
 swered Kate, frigidly; and Sydney felt rebuked for having 
 eiffered the precious head to lie upon his shoulder one in- 
 stant after the golden lashes had fallen together. 
 
 Without offering to touch the sleeper, Kate smoothed the 
 sheet and warmed the pillow, and motioned her husband 
 to lay his burden there. Then she turned away, leaving to 
 him the task of covering the child. 
 
 " My beautiful angel ! " said the fond father, kissing the 
 sunny curls floating over the pillow. " She grows more 
 lovely each day does she not ? " 
 
 " She is a very pretty child ! " without a look toward her. 
 
 Sydney's task of love being accomplished, he came to the 
 back of his wife's chair, and rested one arm upon it, watch- 
 ing her darting needle and the work that grew under it. 
 
 " That is very handsome ! Is it for yourself? " 
 
 " No ; for Lulu." 
 
 He said no more, when she did not offer to unfold the 
 pattern for his further admiration. One might have fancied 
 him abstracted, but his thoughts did not wander beyond 
 the silent figure before him. These reveiies had become 
 habitual to him when she was indisposed to converse. Her 
 moods were often less than inviting; seldom so repellent 
 as that which now possessed her. She had not, however, 
 concealed her feelings so adroitly that he had not gathered 
 from her demeanor and chance utterances that her married 
 life had proved to her a bitter disappointment. This, a 
 humiliating discovery to any husband, is pregnant with 
 keenest mortification and sorrow to those who have loved 
 most truly, striven most faithfully, to bring about a contrary 
 result. He had not succeeded in making her happy,
 
 ardently as lie had hoped to do this. Yet how hard and 
 how long he had tried to meet her eveiy wish, to ward off 
 care ! Not that he had any just cause for complaint. She 
 had consulted his tastes and comfort in every arrangement 
 of her household ; been a true wife to him in sickness and 
 in health; winning daily upon his regard by her womanly 
 virtues, the graces of her mind and person, her steadiness 
 oi purpose in all worthy enterprises, her avoidance of all 
 that was mean and base. He loved her with a depth and" 
 sincerity which t was a higher tribute to her character than 
 had been the more demonstrative passion of the honeymoon. 
 She seldom encouraged him to express this in words, and 
 the pain of repression, at first so new and sharp, had settled 
 into a dull aching that never left him. 
 
 It had made a different man of him than the buoyant, 
 Bunny-tempered Sydney Bentley, who, people used to say, 
 was born to good fortune, it appeared to come to him so- 
 naturally, and he was so well suited to the enjoyment of the 
 bounties showered upon him by nature -and circumstance. 
 Trouble went hardly with him, especially the pangs of 
 grieved affection; but, in the strength of his love for her, it 
 was easier to endure these and make no sign, than to see 
 his wife droop with mysterious sadness, or unexpressed 
 desire, and not dare ask why she mourned. 
 
 "Dare!" That was just it! He stood, with bound 
 hands and sealed lips, and saw the distance between them 
 grow wider and wider. Her will was not to be questioned, 
 and that will was an impassable barrier to his inclination to 
 search out the reason for their growing estrangement, his 
 longing to restore matters to their old footing. Her lightest 
 wish was his law, and she knew her power. He feared her 
 frown more than the reprobation of the whole world beside, 
 and she knew that too. 
 
 It was impossible to brood upon these things and not
 
 289 
 
 grovr restless under the yoke, let her who imposed it be 
 never so dear. He caught himself wishing, in a vague, sad 
 way, that she were less rigid in her ideas of right and 
 wrong ; less scrupulous in her performance of what she held 
 to be duty, in its remotest particulars ; wishing, in bi ief, that 
 she were more like other women, or he better suited to her 
 needs. She had left him behind, so he excused the tinct- 
 ure of disloyalty in this thought ; outstripped him so far 
 in the march toward excellence that he could not hope to as- 
 pire to her level, and he felt lonely. He had never, until 
 this hour, allowed the shadow of a reflection upon her con- 
 duct to enter his mind, but he was weary with disappoint- 
 ment and chilling failures. His nature craved 
 
 " A creature not too bright and good 
 For human nature's daily food." 
 
 He was tired of making all the advances and receiving all 
 the repulses. 
 
 Kate looked hastily up at his heavy sigh. Her eyes were 
 full of tears, and the unguarded movement ddshed one over 
 the brimming lids. She averted her head, as she felt it upon 
 her cheek. 
 
 "I am a pitiful fool!" said Sydney, inwardly. "But 
 I'll be hanged if I can stand that ! I'll risk annihilation 
 first ! stake all upon one chance ! " He knelt down by her 
 side and wound his arms about her. " Kate, love ! my pre- 
 cious wife ! What is this nameless, terrible sorrow that is 
 killing us both ? What have I ever said or done to wound 
 you so deeply that for weeks and months together I am 
 never blessed with a real heart-smile, a voluntary word of 
 love ? Upon my knees I pray for a return to the dear, 
 early days of our love. ,If tears came quickly then, smiles 
 were more ready to chase these away. I know the fault 
 must be mine, mine alone ; for you are the soul of goodness 
 and justice. You would not inflict the horrible pain I have 
 25
 
 290 
 
 felt in the dread lest I might have forfeited ycmr love and 
 respect, without excellent caiise for punishing me. Have I 
 not done penance long and severe enough to atone for my 
 unintentional wrong-doing? And I so love and worship 
 you ; my darling ! my darling ! " 
 
 He would not let her go, although she struggled to un- 
 bind his arms. His pleading eyes, misty with feeling, gazed 
 up into hers ; his mouth quivered with pain, and his voice 
 was plaintive as a child's. 
 
 Kate was terribly tempted. Tempted to forget his weak- 
 ness, his laxity of principle, his manifold deceptions and 
 misrepresentations, his deficiency in moral heroism, all 
 the blemishes that had degraded her impossible ideal into 
 the very human and therefore very fallible man ; tempted to 
 bury these in the recollection that he was still her husband, 
 whom she had taken " for better, for worse," in a compact 
 naught but death could annul ; tempted to cast over every blot 
 that marred her present conception of his character, the veil 
 of pitying -affection ; to cling to him yet more truly because 
 of the frailties that begot that compassionate tenderness, and 
 while clinging, strive to correct the faults which had 
 wrought his debasement in her esteem, and her consequent 
 misery. Before this temptation, whether it was the weak 
 plea of a woman's too partial love, or the instigation of her 
 guardian angel, her usually firm will swayed and strained 
 momentarily, like a reed before a rushing, mighty wind, 
 then stubbornness she hailed it as rectitude returned to 
 her spirit. 
 
 She ceased to struggle. Unmoved in aspect and calm 
 intonation, she gazed straight into the mournful eyes that 
 besought her clemency. She even lifted a lock that Lad 
 strayed over his forehead, and laid it back, but it was 
 rather the action of a mother rectifying a chance disorder
 
 "FOB BETTEE, FOE WOESE." 291 
 
 in .the appearance of a grown-up son, than the toying of a 
 wife with her husband's silky hair. 
 
 " My poor Sydney ! Are you then unhappy, too ? Dear, 
 return to the blind, blissful days of which you speak is im- 
 possible. I should only deceive you were I to raise hopes 
 I can never fulfil ; were I to lead you to suppose anything 
 else. With me, the desire has failed with the expectation. 
 This is a merciful provision of nature. When we have 
 ceased to hope, we learn, with greater or less ease, to curb 
 our wishes. We are no longer boy and girl lovers, each 
 believing the other a combination of angelic perfections, and 
 life to be made tap of midsummer holidays like our wedding- 
 day. That phase of our joint existence has passed. It is, 
 hereafter, to be remembered as ' the tender grace of a day 
 that is dead.' You know that can never come back." 
 
 She paused. Still the fixed look of supplication; still 
 the clasp of the arms that bound her waist like bands of 
 steel. 
 
 " It was bitter to let it go, dear ! to see the romance fade, 
 little by little, one ray after another, out of one's life. But 
 we are too wise to waste our time in useless lamentations 
 over the irrevocable. Let us accept our destiny as it is', 
 like a brave man and a submissive woman. Duty, when 
 rightly pursued, is not a bad substitute for hope." 
 
 The sad eyes lingered upon hers with one last look, so 
 earnest and penetrating, she feared lest it had read her soul 
 to its depths ; then closed, a quiet fall of the lids that sig- 
 nalled to her apprehension the farewell to hope she advised. 
 When they were lifted, the mist was gone. Dry desola- 
 tion, that expected and asked nothing, was there in its 
 place. 
 
 In arising, he stooped over and kissed her. " Let it be 
 as you wish. I woxild not force your love and confidence. 
 Mine can never change. I was never good enough for you.
 
 292 "FOB BET-TEE, FOE WOESE." 
 
 T warned you, long ago, that you would some day discover 
 this for yourself. I think that I loved you well enough to 
 have made myself over again, if you would have liked me 
 better for the change. But let it pass! You never say 
 what you do not mean, and you say that it is too late." 
 
 Another sentence, and her rigid self-possession must have 
 given way. The simple dignity of his acquiesence in her 
 verdict ; his gallant vindication of herself from all blame in 
 their estrangement, wrought more powerfully upon her de- 
 termination than oceans of tears and volumes of protesta- 
 tions could have done. The sentence was not spoken. He 
 laid his hand upon her head, in blessing or as a token of for- 
 giveness, if he had aught in his mind of which other men 
 might have complained, and left the house. 
 
 She listened until the echo of his slow footfall died away 
 in the quiet street ; then bent her forehead upon the railing 
 of the baby's crib, too wretched to pray or to think connect- 
 edly. 
 
 " I have cut away the last prop that stood between me 
 and utter despair ! " she murmured, by and by. " But it 
 must have come at some time. As well now as later ! De- 
 lay would have made the wrench no easier." " 
 
 During Lulu's illness, her mother had spent many nights 
 upon a low bed in the chamber adjoining her own, and 
 which was fitted up as a temporary nursery. The child 
 required much attention at night, and her restlessness and 
 the attendant bustle in the room would have disturbed the 
 father's slumbers as well as those of the untiring nurse. 
 
 " I could not sleep if she were awake," Kate had replied 
 to her husband's entreaties that she would permit liim to 
 relieve her protracted vigils. "It is unnecessary that two 
 should lose their rest, when one can do all that is needed for 
 her comfort." 
 
 Yet, each night, Sydney had come into the nursery before
 
 "FOE BETTEE, FOE WORSE." 293 
 
 retiring, with minute inquiries as to the health of th e little 
 one and her mother's ability to sustain the fatigue of the 
 approaching watch, and not left them until Kate had lain 
 down and Lulu was asleep. 
 
 To-night, he came home at the usual hour. There had 
 been an undefined dread upon the wife's spirits until she 
 heard the click of his key in the outer door, that she might 
 never see him again; that his solemn, unspoken leave-taking 
 presaged a final separation. She had undressed and betaken 
 her aching head to the pillow,' half an hour earlier, a freak 
 of pride or wilfulness, which she deluded herself into fancying 
 was a judicious measure for one suffering and exhausted as 
 she undoubtedly was. In reality, she meant that he should 
 not imagine that she had sat up for him or expected his 
 accustomed visit. The childish folly was sufficiently -pun- 
 ished by the agony of expectation that hearkened to every 
 sound from the adjacent chamber; to Sydney's slippered 
 footstep upon the carpet; the rattle of his watch-chain, as? 
 he laid it upon the marble top of the bureau ; the fall of a 
 book he had accidentally struck from the table ; and still he 
 did not approach the door of communication. Finally, the 
 line of tight beneath this went out, and all was quiet. F,pr 
 the first time since their marriage day, he had laid himself 
 down to rest without kissing her " good-night." 
 
 The haggard countenances of both, when they met in the 
 breakfast-room, showed that their rest had not deserved the 
 name; but neither alluded to the conversation of the previous 
 evening. They talked of Lulu, whose fever had left her- 
 entirely, and whose clearer eyes and playful tricks they 
 hailed as auguries of speedy recovery; of the weather; the 
 morning news ; of everything excepting themselves. There 
 was no need for Kate to play the defensive, now, against the 
 loving -demonstrations and inquiries she had learned to 
 avoid lest they should beguile her into openness of speech 
 25*
 
 294: "FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE." 
 
 and corresponding warmth. Sydney's tone was friendly, kind, 
 pleasant. A third party at their meal would have decided 
 that there was nothing to conceal on either side; that lie 
 was as fond as are a majority of husbands; a trifle more 
 attentive to his partner's wants, perhaps; but, that he, with 
 his lady-like and self-possessed wife, had outlived the period 
 of wedded sentimentalism. And nine out of ten people 
 would have decided that their behavior was eminently 
 decorous, pre-eminently sensible, and quoted, knowingly, the 
 hackneyed saying setting fovtk the interesting character of 
 love talk and love scenes to the parties engaged in it, and 
 their exceeding stupidity to the beholders thereof. 
 
 "When did Miss Lambert say that she would be here?" 
 inquired Kate, in pursuance of her laudable design of pre- 
 venting awkward breaks in their chat. 
 
 '' To tea, this evening. She said something of a wish to 
 pay you a visit of a day or two, but I did not encourage the 
 intimation. I mentioned in reply, that Lulu occupied much 
 of your time." 
 
 There had been a scarcely perceptible shadow on the 
 wife's brow, as the proposed visit was named, a knitting of 
 th forehead, which the husband knew signified dissatisfac- 
 tion. It had vanished when the concluding clause of his 
 remark was spoken. 
 
 "Where is she staying? " 
 
 " With her sister, Mrs. Shenley." 
 
 "She has been in St. Louis for two or three years, has 
 she not?" 
 
 " She has. Her eldest brother lives there. She is the 
 youngest of a large family." 
 
 " Has she altered much since you last saw her? " 
 
 " Hem-m-m ! No ; I think not. She looks just about 
 the same. I expected that she would have married at the
 
 " FOE BETTER, FOE WOESE." 295 
 
 West, but she seems to be in no hurry to resign the liberty 
 she evidently enjoys," 
 
 Et cetera, etc., etc., until breakfast was over, when Sydney 
 arose from the table, kissed his wife formally; took up his 
 child in a warm embrace ; inquired if there were anything 
 he could do for the pleasure or comfort of either during the 
 day; advised Kate to leave Lulu with the nurae long enough 
 to take a walk or ride herself in the bracing outer air, and 
 went off to his office for the rest of the day. Their divided 
 life had fairly begun.
 
 296 "FOE BETTEK, FOK \VOKSE." 
 
 CHAPTEK TV. 
 
 KATE had a call that day, at noon, from Doctor Russell. 
 He had been the family physician and personal friend of the 
 Bentleys for years, and, like some other popular practition- 
 ers, was a bit of a gossip. 
 
 " I saw Sydney for a moment, yesterday, in Moulin's 
 saloon," he said, when he had pronounced his little patient 
 decidedly better. " He was discussing a capital ice in capi- 
 tal company ; namely, with Miss Lambert. I had not seen 
 her before in an age. She wears wonderfully well, and 
 looks refreshed, instead of blase, after her Western campaign. 
 She was never handsomer than on yesterday. I stopped to 
 pay my respects to her, and to corroborate Sydney's decla- 
 ration that our small lady here was not so ill as to render 
 it inexpedient that Miss Lambert should accept his invita- 
 tion to visit you." 
 
 "He told me that your report was encouraging," re- 
 marked Kate, quietly. 
 
 The doctor was very scrupulous in whatever had the 
 remotest bearing iipon his professional reputation. 
 
 " Oh ! as to that I had very little to say. ' Doctor ! ' he 
 called, as I was passing, ' are you in too great a hurry to do 
 me a good turn?' I answered that I was at his service. 
 * Then please certify to Miss Lambert that my little Lulu is 
 not too sick for us Mrs. Beutley and myself to enjoy 
 the society of our old friend. I have been begging her, for 
 half an hour, to gladden our sombre dwelling by the sun-
 
 " FOE BETTER, FOK WORSE." 297 
 
 shine of her presence, but she is ol)durate.' The sly rascal 
 remembered, you see, that flattery was the belle's natural 
 aliment ! I merely replied that I did not consider the 
 child dangerously ill, although, to be candid, I did not like 
 the constant recurrence of the febrile symptoms. They are 
 rare in convalesence from such an attack as she has had, I 
 am more rejoiced than I can express to you, my dear 
 madam, to observe their abatement to-day. Good-morning ! 
 I shall do myself the pleasure of calling while Miss Lambert 
 is with you." 
 
 "Mamma, mamma!" repeated Lulu, impatiently, tug- 
 ging at her mother's sleeve, ten minutes after the man of 
 medicine and news had made his smiling bow ; " Lulu 
 wants a drink ! " 
 
 Kate put the goblet to her lips with a dreamy, preoc- 
 cupied air. She smiled in replacing it upon the stand a 
 gloomily sarcastic curl of the mobile mouth one would not 
 care to see twice upon a woman's face. 
 
 "Lulu must lie still awhile, now. Mamma has a letter 
 to write," she said, giving the little one her new picture- 
 book. 
 
 She sat down at her desk and dashed off the following 
 note to Anna Bentley : 
 
 " MY DEAR SISTER, Sydney met Rita Lambert yester- 
 day, and invited her to take tea with us this evening. She 
 objected to making a longer visit on account of Lulu's sick- 
 ness. Can you see her during the forenoon, and ask her, in 
 my name, to pass a week with us ? And cannot you spare 
 as much of your valuable time to her and to us ? Lulu is 
 very much better, but I cannot as yet leave her entirely to 
 the care of her nurse. Meanwhile I am poor company for 
 Sydney. He needs'enlivenment, and I know no two peo- 
 ple who could cheer him up more effectually than his pet
 
 298 
 
 sister and his old favorite Eita. Please say to Miss Lam- 
 bert how earnestly I desire her compliance with my peti- 
 tion ; also, that I would give my invitation in person, were, 
 it not that my convalescent is exacting of mamma's notice 
 to-day. Come early, and let me know at what hour 1 may 
 send for your trunk. Love to mamma and Eli/a. They 
 must spare you to me for a few days. It has been a long 
 while since I had a real, visit from you. 
 " Affectionately, 
 
 " KATE BENTLEY." 
 
 Sydney walked heavily up the steps of his own dwelling 
 that evening. Kate might have thought her heroics thrown 
 away had she known how completely the recollection of 
 Rita's proposed visit had escaped his memory, He had 
 encountered her upon the threshold of the confectioner's 
 saloon ; they had eaten their ices together, and, partly 
 because it was natural and easy for him to say things agree- 
 able to his listeners, partly because he was honestly pleased 
 at meeting an old aquaintance, he had rattled on after the 
 fashion of his bachelorhood, brightly and thoughtlessly, 
 with no prescient warning as to the dragon's teeth he was 
 sowing. 
 
 He unlocked the front door, and a burst of merry music 
 greeted his ears, ceasing while he yet stood in the hall, and 
 succeeded by the softer and more joyous sound of laughing 
 voices. Peeping furtively in at the parlor door, he saw 
 Kate seated by the fire with Lulu upon her lap, Anna kneel- 
 ing upon the carpet before the two, playing with her niece 
 and, towering before them in one of her finest poses, ex- 
 pressive of tender benignity toward mother, babe, and 
 aunt, was Rita's voluptuous figure, fuller, and, if possible, 
 more instinct with seductive grace than when she played the 
 willing Chloe to his Stephen in the moonlighted garden-
 
 299 
 
 walks and piazzas of his father's country-house seven years 
 ago. 
 
 Few women liked Rita Lambert ; because, insinuated the 
 ungallant stronger sex, it was considered " the proper thing " 
 for most men, who had the opportunity offered them, to go 
 through the form of homage at the shrine of her overween- 
 ing vanity. At twenty-six years of age, when most of her 
 contemporaries were beginning to lose the lustre of their 
 early charms, she had bloomed into a wanton luxuriance of 
 beauty, the sight of which purchased for her no increase 
 of favor in feminine eyes, while the men went into madder 
 ecstasies than ever over her affluence of charms. Up to this 
 day, Kate had never been jealous of Sydney's admiration for 
 her. R was too openly expressed, and avowedly too exclu- 
 sively a mere pleasure of the eye, for a reasonable wife to 
 fear. Furthermore, until now she had always been confi- 
 dent in the strength of her tenure upon her husband's 
 affections. Distrust his other protestations though she did, 
 when he declared his love to be unchangeable in fervor and 
 hers alone, she had believed him. The doctor's good-natured 
 loquacity . had set a germ which had grown faster than 
 Jonah's gourd, and borne fruit more poisonous than helle- 
 bore. 
 
 The casual meeting in the street had been a prolonged 
 interview in the saloon of a fashionable confectioner ; Rita's 
 proposal to visit her, a hardly-wrung consent to his importu- 
 nities that she would lt brighten his sombre dwelling by the 
 sunshine of her presence ;" the doctor's reassuring statement 
 of the child's improvement in health, a trumped-up story to 
 allay her maternal fears and insure his favorite a longer 
 stay beneath his roof than would be compatible with pro- 
 priety or humanity, were the mother, meanwhile, racked by 
 fears for the life of her babfi. This fresh development of his 
 duplicity sent her thoughts back to the evening on which
 
 300 "FOE BETTER, FOE WOESE." 
 
 she had first heard Rita Lambert's name. "His formei 
 flame," Eliza had styled her. 
 
 "I believe it now!" Kate said between her clenched 
 teeth. " I was a fool not to see and believe it then !" 
 
 Close upon this came the daring resolution to invite her 
 to the house and watch them with her unsealed eyes. She 
 had begun to relent in her purpose of treating him as one 
 who had forfeited all claim to her confidence, to whom she 
 was united by a nominal, because a merely legal tie ; begun 
 to question secretly whether it were indeed possible for love 
 to outlive respect. Now, Love and Pity fled affrighted 
 before the beldame Justice, as she seized the scales in one 
 hand, the rod in the other. To secure the evidence neces- 
 sary to convict the accused man, the devotee of th*is griin- 
 browed goddess stooped to subterfuge ; wrote a letter, every 
 third line of which was a lie, to decoy the accomplice into 
 her righteous trap. She observed the meeeting of the sus- 
 pected pair with perceptions sharpened to the last degree of 
 acuteness. The flash and glow that went over Rita's blonde 
 visage, the responsive smile upon Sydney's ; the clinging 
 touch of the hand ; the cordial heartiness of his verbal wel- 
 come to his home, none of those passed unnoticed, con- 
 trasted as they were, with the careless familiarity of his 
 greeting to Anna, and his formal address to herself when his 
 devoirs as host had been paid. 
 
 The passion for conquest was natural with Rita as was 
 the act of respiration. Perhaps, if the choice had been 
 offered her, she would have prefered to undertake the fasci- 
 nation of an unmarried man. If he were intensely " eligi- 
 ble," there was always the ulterior motive of securing a 
 settlement in life ; but such chances being few, she as often 
 tried her skill tipon the lawful property of other women as 
 upon that which, as yet, belonged to nobody in particular, 
 and was, therefore, fair game. It was nothing to her, and
 
 Cf FOE BETTEK, FOR WOESE." 301 
 
 less than nothing, that she occasionally broke a simple lov- 
 ing heart by the practice of her diablerie. If she bestowed 
 more than a passing thought upon such insignificant inci- 
 dents, it was to congratulate herself that one of the " demure 
 kind," as she denominated all wives who were content with 
 the queendom of their own homes, asked for no loftier niche 
 in the world than the highest places in the affections of 
 their husbands and children, " the hateful, starched, prim, 
 over-good sort," thus Miss Lambert's set wrote these down, 
 that one of these, the coquette's natural enemies, had, 
 however sorely against her will, been compelled to lower 
 her spotless crest and own the regal flirt her conqueror. 
 A "pattern wife" is, in the vocabulary of the gay sisterhood, 
 a more 'opprobrious term than even " old maid." 
 
 Rita had come nearer to breaking her heart, or whatever 
 portion of her frame did duty for that usually necessary 
 organ, for love of handsome Syd Bentley, in his bachelor- 
 hood, than she had ever done before or since. He had 
 slighted her, as she imagined, and she had neither forgiven 
 nor forgotten the affront. It is superfluous to remark, after 
 adverting to this fact in her early history, that her aversion 
 to " married prudes " and " model spouses," in the abstract, 
 was aggravated into rancor in this instance by a sense of de- 
 feat and a hankering after revenge upon the audacioxxs 
 creature occupying the place she had selected as her own. 
 For the furtherance of this pious design, she could not have 
 asked a fairer opportunity than her rival had afforded her 
 by her invitation to pass a week in the society of her cov- 
 etoJ victim. 
 
 Anna was extravagantly fond of children, and Lulu, her 
 only niece, was her greatest pet. When Kate moved to 
 carry her up stairs, after supper, the doting auntie quai 
 relied with her for the privilege of playing bearer to her im- 
 perious little majesty, and gained her point, transferring
 
 302 "FOK BETTER, FOR WORSE." 
 
 the light burden from the mother's arms to her own, and 
 bearing her off in triumph. Kate followed to undress and 
 put the child to bed. The two dallied over the operations 
 of disrobing and bathing the delighted babe, after the 
 fashion of all child-lovers, paying the inevitable penalty 
 in enduring the sleepless and peevish fit that succeeded ^ 
 the untimely frolic. Finally she was quiet in bed, and 
 nearly, if not quite asleep, and Anna made a feint of with- 
 drawal. 
 
 Her sister-in-law stayed her. " Leave Rita to entertain 
 Sydney a little longer," she said. " I want to have a long 
 talk about your affairs. I have hardly had a chance to say 
 a word to you for a month past. Sit down ! " 
 
 Said " affairs " signifying Anna's recent betrothal to " one 
 of the nicest fellows in the world," she was not loath to 
 sink to the low seat pointed out, rest her elbows upon 
 Kate's knees, and enter into fullest particulars touching the 
 embryo trousseau, the time when " it " would probably 
 " come off, " and a thousand other things pertaining to the 
 important " it." 
 
 " You see, Katie dear, there is no peculiar propriety in a 
 long engagement," said the frank fiancee. Ed is doing a 
 good bxisiness, and we have known each other for years and 
 years. I wouldn't marry a man whom I did not know 
 thoroughly his faults as well as his virtues." 
 
 " You are right there ! " Kate suppressed a sigh, and 
 meant that her smile should be encouraging ; not incredu- 
 lous. Anna was not renowned for keenness of spiritual 
 perceptions, and she prattled on, xinaware of anything in the 
 expression of her listener's eye or face that should have 
 dampened her enthusiastic happiness or cast a doubt upon 
 her boasted* familiarity with her lover's character. Kate 
 led her on, seeming to hearken with a show of affectionate 
 interest, while her ears were really sensitive only to sounds
 
 "FOE BETTER, FOK WOESE." 303 
 
 from the parlor beneath, the subdued hum of conversation, 
 and, by and by, a melancholy prelude upon the piano, ex- 
 quisitely played ; then Rita's voice, cooingly insinuative in 
 song, as in conversation, beginning the musical phase of her 
 campaign in the ballad, " Sleeping, I dreamed, Love." 
 Sydney did not sing it with her a certain token to his 
 wife that his had been the selection of the music. She 
 saw him clearly as with her bodily vision, standing behind 
 the siren ; his head bowed, and eyes softened to languish- 
 ing by the magic strains and more potent witchery of the 
 rendering. He used thus to bend and listen when she sang 
 to him during their short, happy engagement, which they, 
 like Anna and her lover, saw no expediency in lengthen- 
 ing beyond the earliest convenient limit. 
 
 And in this remembered attitude she found him, when 
 she assented, at length, to Anna's proposition that " this 
 was a very selfish enjoyment; that Rita would think it 
 queer, and Syd scold if they did not go- down." 
 
 Duets and trios superseded solos when the rapt couple at 
 the instrument were interrupted by the entrance of the late 
 tenants of the nursery. Anna liked to sing with her 
 brother, and furnished a somewhat feeble, but sweet second 
 to Miss Lambert's spirited soprano. 
 
 " Come, Kate ! " said her husband, the frost of his imper- 
 fectly learned reserve melting under the influence of his 
 favorite art, " Rita is not familiar with this song. She will 
 play the accompaniment, if you will sing." He made a 
 motion to cross the room and lead her to the piano, but her 
 coldly civil accents stayed his advance. 
 
 " Please excuse me ! I am both weary and hoarse to- 
 night; I came to hear, not help make music." 
 
 She sat clown by the centre-table with her work, and the 
 concert proceeded. It appeared, upon a cursory examina- 
 tion of the collection upon the music-rack, that at least fifty
 
 304: "FOR BETTEK, FOK WOESE." 
 
 new and " divine" pieces of music were lacking " to complete 
 such an assortment as you two should have, Mrs. Bentley." 
 This from the siren, directing her blandishments Kateward. 
 
 "If I could sing as you do, and could always command 
 such a basso," beamingly upon Sydney, " I am afraid that 
 my fate would be that of the weaker, or more excitable 
 thrush, of the pair celebrated in fable: that I should sing 
 myself to death pass away in musical breath." 
 
 " Euthanasia I" observed Sydney, smiling. 
 
 He was pencilling down the names of several of the duets 
 she had mentioned, and 'did not see the countenance of the 
 beauty. Kate did, and detecting the touch of embarrasment 
 depicted thereupon, was certain that she did not comprehend 
 the answer she had received. 
 
 " A shallow, superficial parrot I" was the wife's mental 
 criticism. " Yet he admires gloss and chatter. All men do ! " 
 
 She did justice, however, to the adroitness with which 
 the parrot covered her ignorance. 
 
 " Anna, dear ! " with girlish eagerness, catching at a sheet 
 the other was turning over, "isn't that the sweetest of all 
 earthly duets the one we used to be forever singing in 
 "lang syne," dear lost " lang syne?" Let me have it, 
 please 1" 
 
 She warbled a measure like a nightingale, if nightingales 
 ever have contralto voices that nothing can'suprise into 
 shrillness. 
 
 " That one line has painted a whole picture for me ! I 
 3an see the mountains, dark with evergreens ; the flash of 
 the silver rivers down the valley; the tree-shadows upon 
 the lawn, and the glitter of the moonbeams upon the dewy 
 grass; just as they looked on that never-to-be-forgotten 
 summer. Heigho ! put it away, my darling, or I shall grow 
 romantic. Ladies of an uncertain age should rise superioi 
 to sentimental reminiscences !"
 
 " FOE BETTEE, FOE WOESE." 305 
 
 Before any one could remark upon this pensive passage in 
 talk that was usually lively to gayety, the keys tinkled under 
 her fingers like a concert of fairy guitars, and she broke into 
 a charming little serenade : 
 
 "When the Balaika 
 
 la heard o'er the eea, 
 Til dance the Romaika, 
 Sweet love, with thee I " 
 
 " Sydney ! " She did not correct the appellation by 
 (( Mr. Bentley," in the seeming fbrgetfulness of her present 
 surroundings into which she was prone to lapse, on this 
 evening. " Sydney ! do you recollect that glorious night on 
 the sea-shore, when we waltzed on the sand, and how after 
 the dance was over, you caught up a guitar belonging to one 
 of the party, and sang the ' Romaika ' ? It is strange what 
 a charm such memories have -for me ! " 
 
 Kate unsmiling and taciturn apparently absorbed in 
 her sewing, contributing nothing to the general fund of en- 
 joyment, the type of a rigid task-mistress, who spared her- 
 self no more than she did others. Beyond the. centre-table, 
 with its shaded burner, the blonde enchantress, all bloom 
 and radiance steeped in the mellow lustre shed down from 
 the brackets on either side of the piano herself the incar- 
 nation of light and warmth ; ready to reflect his smile, or 
 echo his sigh ; to sing him into transient oblivion of pain, 
 or to sympathize sweetly in what 'she but vaguely guessed 
 from the shadow that overcast his eyes when a break occurred 
 in her pleasing flow of words, spoken and sung. Sydney, 
 too, had liis pictures to study that evening, and he was a 
 man, very man, moreover; one who liked sunshine and 
 ease, and shuddered at gloom, let it overshadow either body 
 or spirit. Nobody knew his idiosyncrasies better than did 
 his wife, but she did not bestir herself to render less painful
 
 306 
 
 the "contrast presented for his inspection by the two figures 
 we have drawn. 
 
 With persistency and system she would have condemned 
 as malignant in another, she carried out the programme she 
 had arranged for this decisive week. She withdrew into 
 the background whenever her husband appeared in parlor 
 or library, and granted Rita every accessory to her beauty 
 and wiles the exacting flirt could have desired, had her 
 wish been law. So utterly indifferent did Mrs. Bentley 
 appear to the progress of the renewed intimacy that, Circe 
 sometimes eyed her in wonderment and suspicion. Was the 
 woman a born fool, or was she wrapped in a fatal lethargy 
 by mistaken confidence in the strength of. her hold upon 
 her handsome lord, while he was being drawn nearer and 
 nearer the uncertain and slippery verge where society 
 that despicable despot whom, nevertheless, no one except 
 a downright madman ever yet did despise declares inno- 
 cent flirtation to end and crime to begin? Kita's delicate 
 foot had trodden sufficiently close to the piecipice in bygone 
 days for her to understand perfectly what were her bearings 
 now. She had also drawn others far into danger ; witnessed 
 their feeble struggles and subsequent recklessness, and she 
 believed the tempting prey she now sought to ensnare was 
 safe in her silken toils. But she had never before had 
 assistance in this pretty and most Christian sport from such 
 a quarter. 
 
 " Positively she has not only resigned him to me, but 
 she pushes him into my very grasp ! " muttered the tempt- 
 ress, as she surveyed her finished toilet in the mirror 'in her 
 chamber on the last evening of her stay in the hospitable 
 mansion. "Can she hold her treasure cheaply? Has she 
 found him too ' costly ' for every-day wear ? " 
 
 She was not choice in her language when soliloquizing; 
 coarse-minded people seldom are; and what professional
 
 "FOR BETTEE, FOE WOESE." 307 
 
 flirt, especially if she be a woman, is not coarse in 
 grain ? 
 
 Anna had accepted an invitation to take tea with "Ed's" 
 parents, who were, according to her, like their son, "the 
 nicest people in the world," and Rita contemplated com 
 placently the prospect of a tete a tete which should accrue 
 to her profit and pleasure. 
 
 " He shall commit himself, even though no ponitive 
 advantage can result from commital now. But it \v ill ba 
 a consolation to hear from his own lips that I have conquered 
 that he laments me. Better late than never, and half 
 a loaf is better than no bread. If I had done my work as 
 well seven years ago, his destiny and mine would have worn 
 a very different aspect. But I was a green girl then im- 
 pulsive and over-anxious. I have always been haunted 
 by the idea that he saw the hook under the bait. So much 
 the greater the victory now ! " 
 
 She descended to the parlor, her shining silk trailing and 
 rustling down the stairs like the supple coils of a real serpent. 
 The apartment was empty of human occupant ; but Psyche, 
 Sydney's tiny King Charles spaniel, lay coiled up, a flossy 
 ball, upon a cushion before the blazing grate. Rita sat down 
 upon the carpet beside her, her sheeny robes spread widely, 
 and giving back the fire-rays from a hundred folds. Leap- 
 ing sparks of prismatic hues betrayed the diamond-cluster 
 below her white throat; the steadier glow of the opal upon 
 her finger suggested the beautiful oriental description of the 
 gem, "a pearl with a soul imprisioned in it. " There were 
 tuberoses in her hair and belt, and the room was soon filled 
 with the powerful, yet languorous oder. Psyche raised her 
 curly head and winked her black eyes very fast and hard 
 at the dazzling apparition that had disturbed her nap. But 
 ,t the gentle, monotonous play of the jewelled hand over 
 her silky coat, slumber resumed its sway, and she sank anew
 
 308 " FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE." 
 
 into her drowsy paradise. Rita did not like children, 
 although she could go into ecstasies, over what she 
 called, behind their parents' backs, "nursery furniture." 
 If mamma or papa were worth winning, she " did " petting, 
 including baby-talk, gracefully as she captivated husbands 
 and made mortal enemies of wives. But the genus baby 
 wasr to her a disagreeable animal, to be shunned whenever 
 policy permitted such avoidance. Of dogs and horses she 
 w^as really fond. Had Lulu and Psyche fallen into the fire 
 together, and the choice been offered her of saving one of 
 the two, I am afraid she would have dragged out the spaniel 
 withoiit a moment's hesitation. It was not in her nature to 
 be cruel to dumb things, she was wont to say, with osten- 
 tatious tenderness. Perhaps Nero might have murmured 
 a similar sentiment over his basket of pet puppies, while his 
 pleasure-gardens were lurid with the flames fed by burning 
 martyrs. 
 
 Waiting there in the scarlet fire-light, she was a very 
 East Indian in her love of heat, Rita began to croon a love- 
 sick trifle that had yet in it a wild pathos which commended 
 it to the ear and heart of the listener : 
 
 "My soul, in one unbroken sigh, 
 
 Breathes forth its love for thee ; 
 More fond than parent's love for child 
 Or bird's for mate on tree. 
 
 For thee I for only thee 1 " 
 
 She repeated the refrain over and over, just above her 
 breath, a sound hardly louder than the crackle and sigh of 
 the kindling sea-coal upon the hearth, but it drowned the 
 noise of Sydney's entrance. He was close beside her before 
 she betrayed the slightest suspicion of his presence. 
 
 " Alone ? " he said, playfully. " And ' most musical, most 
 melancholy ! ' Don't rise ! You look comfortable and 
 picturesque as you are 1 " He took for himself a low
 
 "FOE BETTER, FOR WORSE." - 309 
 
 tanseuse she liacl designedly left at her right hand, yet fair 
 enough forward for her to see him without changing an 
 attitude she knew could not be improved. 
 
 " You came in so softly that I should have believed you a 
 vision of my waking dream, had you not spoken," she said, 
 naively. 
 
 If he- recognized the implication that his image had played 
 a prominent part in her reverie, he neither said nor looked 
 as much. Indeed, he seemed inclined to lead her away 
 from the subject of her sentimentalizings over the embers. 
 
 " Where is Anna ? " he asked. 
 
 "Gone to take tea with the Warrens, like a dutiful 
 daughter-in-law elect." 
 
 "And Kate?" 
 
 " t Up-stairs, I. fancy. I have not seen her since dinner." 
 
 " You have been lonely, I am afraid. " 
 
 " A little blue ; that is all ! I ought to be ashamed to 
 confess it, I suppose. But I have had a happy week, and 
 it is over ! " 
 
 " Make it a fortnight ! " suggested the host, readily. 
 
 " Why should I ! That would be gone more quickly than 
 a day has often passed for me, in other circumstances, and 
 I should be as reluctant to go at the end of the time as I 
 am to-night. All the sweets of life fly from me before I 
 have fairly tasted them. I should be willing to die the next 
 moment if I could quaff one perfect draught of bliss just 
 one!" 
 
 "You would find it evanescent as the rest of human 
 delights. " 
 
 " Maybe so ; but it would be worth the trouble of living 
 twenty, thirty yes, forty years, to enjoy one such 
 second ! " 
 
 " The trouble of living ! " repeated Sydney, as he might
 
 310 "FOB BETTER, FOE WOKSE." 
 
 reason with a pouting child. " What cause of complaint 
 have you against Fate, I wonder ! " 
 
 " What is your quarrel with her ? " she retorted, instantly, 
 directing a keen, upward look at his face. 
 
 He changed countenance and color, and hastily evaded 
 the thrust. A phrase of thoughtless gallantry came most 
 easily to his tongue. " Let me see your eyes again, Rita ! 
 Do you know that they are opalline, to-night ? They match 
 yoitr ring in lustre and in the fire that glimmers far down 
 within them." 
 
 She did as he bade her. But the fire was nearer the sur- 
 face, now. It deepened, and spread into passionate expres- 
 sion until he grew dizzy and breathless with gazing, yet held 
 by some mystic magnetism of the senses or will,*he could not 
 withdraw that gaze. The woman's whole frame was vivified 
 by the electric flame. The mouth trembled, while it smiled ; 
 the hands, that had lain crossed upon her lap until now, 
 were clasped and slightly lifted in a gesture of marvellous 
 grace ; her chest heaved high and quickly ; she was as lovely 
 as angels ever are, or as fiends would appear when they steal 
 angelic guise. 
 
 Suddenly, when' the pantomime was at the height of its 
 beauty, a flood of softness rushed up, dimming the unholy 
 fire. 
 
 " No, no ! " she cried, vehemently. " They are not opals. 
 They are said to have the power of winning and keeping 
 love for the possessor. Who loves me? Who ever loved 
 me long ? I am the idol of an hour ! the spoiled plaything 
 of a day ! the selfish diversion of a week ! And in my fresh, 
 happy girlhood, I dreamed of such different things ! I have 
 been burying broken hopes all my life long ! " 
 
 She dropped her head upSn his knee and sobbed aloud. 
 When he slipped his hand beneath her forehead to raise it, 
 he felt the hot tears upon his fingers.
 
 311 
 
 " Rita, dear child ! This distress is the morbid fancy of a 
 sad moment ! " commenced Sydney, making a tremendous 
 effort to confine his consolations within the limits of broth- 
 erly kindness. 
 
 "Yes, I have always felt that you believed me shallow- 
 Learted incapable of deep feeling ! " she interposed sharply, 
 but it sounded like a cry of pain, not of temper. 
 
 "You are mistaken! I, with many others of your 
 friends, do credit to your depth and warmth of feeling." 
 
 " Friends ! Don't mock me by using* that word ! " she 
 broke in again, her face kindling into an angrier illumination. 
 " Don't drive me to desperation, Sydney, or I shall say that 
 which you ought not to hear which I shall wish to-mor- 
 row I had clied sooner than said ! Forgive me ! I do not 
 know what I am doing or saying ! But I am so sad-hearted 
 and lonely. For years, my existence has been one long 
 disappointment. And I have fancied that you were not 
 happy. I hoped you would sympathize with me, or, at 
 least, respect my sorrow. I will be stronger now. I could 
 not bear your contempt ! " 
 
 She uttered the incoherent sentences with a feverish 
 rapidity that bewildered Sydney more and more. 
 
 " My dear girl ! IIow wildly you talk ! My contempt ! 
 We have known and loved each other too long for that 
 thought to trouble you" 
 
 "Ah!" 
 
 The sigh sounded as if it had torn through the heart 
 before reaching the lips, and ere he could anticipate her 
 intention, the beautiful head lay upon his shoulder, so near 
 his cheek that her wama breath fanned it. He did not 
 dirink from her. Few men would have experienced an 
 instant impulse to rid themselves of a burden so lovely. 
 But he withheld the caress she evidently expected. The 
 eloquent wordless appeal elicited no passionate response.
 
 312 
 
 Whether or not she would have resorted to other wiles or 
 reproached him for his insensibility, was not to be proved. 
 The sliding doors of the adjoining library rolled soundlessly 
 back, and, chancing to glance in that direction, Sydney saw 
 his wife standing in the archway surveying the group upon 
 the rug. 
 
 With the force imparted by a great horror, as one leaps 
 to his feet in a nightmare, he threw off the beauteous, yet 
 hateful thing that had crept into his bosom. She had 
 changed into a spotted, venomous serpent, when contrasted 
 with the embodiment of pure womanliness he had ever held 
 his wife to be. A second look at the doors showed him the 
 empty arch. The warning apparition had disappeared 
 silently as it had come. 
 
 Klta had fallen to the floor, Nearly crushing poor Psyche, 
 who, rudely aroused from her bed of ease, limped, yelping, 
 from the scene of action. 
 
 "For Heaven's sake, what was it?" gasped Rita, strug- 
 gling to regain her footing, and approaching Sydney, as he 
 leaned upon the mantel, his hands pressing his temples. 
 
 He groaned and shuddered at her touch a gesture of 
 aversion which she mistook for suffering. 
 
 " Are you ill ? What startled you ? Were you stung, 
 or hurt ? " 
 
 " Stung ! Yes, fatally ! Hurt to the heart ! My wife 
 was standing over there, girl ! Sh'e saw and heard us ! " 
 
 At which appalling announcement Rita laughed aloud. 
 Is that all ? Well ! what of it ? " 
 
 "What of it? It means that I am ruined undone 
 wretched for Time, and, for aught I can tell, for Eternity ! " 
 
 " Don't you believe it ! Heroics might deceive anothci 
 woman, but between us there need be no disguises on this 
 head. Do you take me for an idiot, Sydney Bentley ? Do
 
 313 
 
 you imagine that I have not seen from the first month of 
 four marriage ay ! from the very moment I first saw 
 f ou together that you were pitifully mismatched ? that it 
 was impossible she should ever content you ? She is a cold- 
 hearted automaton, loving her husband just as much as the 
 law and the gospel tell her to do." 
 
 " Not another word ! Do you know that you are speak- 
 ing to me of my wife?" The movement and tone of 
 command restored something like dignity to the abject 
 figure. " She is a good, pure, noble woman, whom 1 love ! 
 You are not worthy to loose the latchet of her shoe to 
 kiss the hem of her garment while I " He turned away. 
 
 Rita remained where he had left her, while he paced the 
 room in extreme agitation. She, too, was wounded to the 
 quick, but she would not lower her colors. There was a 
 spice of dare-devil in her composition at all times. It was 
 rampant now, and her smile was dangerous, as she watched 
 the restless figure striding over the carpet. 
 
 " Brazen it out ! " she. said, sententiously, seeing he 
 showed no inclination to return to her side. 
 
 " I can never meet her eye again ! " was the reply. 
 
 Coming up close to her, he asked, between his set teeth, 
 with a sinister gleam in his eye that had in it more of hate 
 than any other emotion, which assuredly resembled love 
 least of all, 
 
 " If I leave this country to-morrow for Europe will you 
 go with me ? Dare you stay here after this disclosure ? " 
 
 Rita laughed again, in genuine and contemptuous amuse- 
 ment. "Dare I? Why should I go? Does it follow 
 because you are a coward, that I must be one ? Moreover, 
 I question seriously whether any disturbance will follow 
 what your fears have magnified into a 'disclosure.' My 
 humble opinion is that Mrs. Bentley will not vex her immacu- 
 27
 
 314 "FOE BETTER, FOR WORSE." 
 
 late soul about what she has seen, if indeed she could 
 discern anything clearly in this flickering light. Nor do I 
 think that if she drew from her discovery the inference that 
 we vere in love with one another she would fly into hysterics 
 over it, or do aught else that was not cool and proper. A 
 wife who does not exert herself to retain her husband's 
 affection, should not complain if he appreciates another's 
 charms. At all events, it is a good plan to wait and see 
 what mischief is done before one betrays himself by covering 
 it up. As to your European elopement, with many thanks 
 for the honor done me by your offer of the trip, allow me to 
 inform you that no woman of spirit would be likely to close 
 in with a proposal delivered in that style. When I sacrifice 
 country, friends, and fair name to link my fortunes with 
 those of one of creation's lords, it will not be for one who 
 regards my companionship in his flight as a pis alter. I 
 hear the tea-bell ! Mrs. Bentley is the soul of punctuality, 
 as of all other first-class virtues." She swept him a mocking 
 curtsey in passing on her way to the door, showing her 
 white teeth in a smile, as she did so. 
 
 He neither moved nor spoke. He was transfixed by this 
 abrupt abandonment of her seductive disguise ; the disdain 
 with which she had flouted his insane proposal. The shock 
 over, he trembled at the imagination of what would have 
 been his situation had she loved him well enough, or been 
 so mad as to close in with it. Had he been dreaming ? was 
 his next question. He could have persuaded himself of 
 this, but for the bruised cluster of tuberoses that lay on the 
 carpet, having dropped from her hair when he pushed her 
 away. He picked them up and flung them into the fire with 
 an execration. " A vile plot ! " he muttured. " She meant 
 to ruin me, knowing all the while that she was safe. She 
 is a demon, and I am a fool ! "
 
 315 
 
 The patter of small, uncertain feet came along the hall, 
 and Lulu rattled the knob of the door: "O Papa!" she 
 cried, as he unclosed it, "Mamma says you must tome wight 
 away down to supper. And Tousin Rita says, hurry up, 
 tause the munings is all detting told, and she is dweadfully 
 hungry 1"
 
 316 "FOE BETTER, FOE WOESE." 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 WHEN Sydney entered the supper-room, with Lulu in his 
 arms, Miss Lambert was standing at the back of her chair 
 discoursing volubly to her hostess of the "loveliest" Parisian 
 weddirig-dress she had examined at the room of a fashiona- 
 ble mantua-maker, that day. 
 
 "You can imagine you, who have such perfect taste 
 yourself you can conceive better than I can describe what 
 must be the effect of the point-lace flounces looped over 
 this superb skirt, with the darlingest, most perfect tuberoses 
 you ever beheld ! I mean to have the counterpart of this 
 toilet when I make Mr. Nameless the happiest of men. 
 You could absolutely fancy that you inhaled the perfume of 
 my favorite flowers, so life-like were they." 
 
 Sydney sickened at the words and the penetrating, cloy- 
 ing odor diffused through the dining-room, as it had been 
 through the parlor. 
 
 " It must have been very handsome !" was Kate's politely 
 commonplace reply. " We are waiting for yoxi, my dear !" 
 
 Few phrases are more meaningless than the conventional 
 " My dear," with which wedded couples of long standing 
 are accustomed to address one another. But this did not slip 
 from Kate's lips from force of habit. Sydney understood that 
 ehe used it for a specific purpose ; that while it was to con- 
 vey no tone of affection to his ear, it was to serve as a bar- 
 rier against inconvenient inquiries or awkward reserve ; in 
 short, that what she had witnessed less than half an hour ago 
 27*
 
 317 
 
 was to be as if it never had been, while the blue eyes that 
 looked so soft, and were, in reality, so cruel, were upon 
 their every look and action. 
 
 Before they quitted the table, he was actually tempted to 
 admit the supposition that she must have been misled by 
 the flickering blaze, as to the position in which she had lately 
 beheld him, while Rita, skilful dissembler as she was her- 
 self, was morally certain that this was so. Kate was more 
 gracious than usual to her guest, even pressing her to pro- 
 long her visit ; and when assured that stern necessity drew 
 the reluctant Rita from her present delightful quarters, 
 "hoping for a repetition of the favor, some time during the 
 winter." 
 
 " Youv will be down stairs soon, will you not ? " coaxed the 
 hypocritical charmer, when Mrs. Bentley called to Lulu that 
 she must go to bed. "I have had a horrible turn of the 
 vapors this afternoon, and when I went to Sydney for con- 
 solation, what do you think he mid? " 
 
 "I am sure I do not know." Kate was stooping to take 
 the child in her arms, and spoke carelessly. 
 
 " Why, instead of sympathy, I ',vas treated to a lecture a 
 scathing one, too!" with a reminiscent shrug which Sydney 
 understood "a regular scolding for my childishness and 
 morbid notions and general unlikenass to his nonpareil of a 
 wife. If I didn't love you so dearly myself, I should soon 
 learn to hate you, you are so constantly held up as <m ex- 
 ample for the humble imitation of my imperfect self. You 
 never have the blues, he says:" 
 
 "Very seldom," answered Kate, making another effort l^ 
 get out of the room. 
 
 Rita was at her heels. " This is my last nigl>t hero, remeoa * 
 ber! and I have seen so much less of you t,han I hoped 
 I should do when I accepted your kind invitation, that I 
 leave with a sense of disappointment. I mean to d'.vcte thia
 
 318 
 
 evening, or, so much of it as you can spare for me, to get- 
 ting acquainted with you. Mr. Bentley tells me he has 
 an engagement out." 
 
 Sydney did not stare at this unblushing fabrication. He 
 was stolid beyond the capacity of feeling her covert insults. 
 
 " I must ask your indulgence for fifteen or twenty minutes," 
 said Kate, composedly. " Lulu will suffer no one excepting 
 myself to put her to bed. When she is asleep, I will come to 
 you. Please amuse yourself as you like until then." 
 
 Rita pursued Sydney into the library, when the coast was 
 dear. He looked around angrily as she rustled in, and re- 
 moved his hat from his head. He was selecting some cigars 
 from a drawer full of dainty Habafias, and refilling his pocket- 
 case, prior to going out. 
 
 "Don't be alarmed, or vicious!" said Rita, in her sweet- 
 est manner. " I haven't come to torment you before your 
 time. I only want to ask if you are not convinced that I 
 was in the right : that your wife either didn't see, or that she 
 doesn't care ? " 
 
 ' t ' She would not have subjected herself to your contemp- 
 tuous or pitying regards, had she seen and heard all that 
 passed, even if the knowledge thus gained had afflicted her 
 beyond the powers of endurance of an ordinary woman." 
 
 Another shrug, and a curl of the amused lips. " Que c'est 
 drolef this determination to be miserable this persistency 
 in remaining uncomfortable ! I thought you weie one of 
 my kind. You needn't say, ' Heaven forbid !' as I see you are 
 longing to do. I mean simply that I gave you credit for 
 more philosophy, for a disposition to take life by the smooth- 
 est handle it presents, and not dash yourself against the jag- 
 ged edges. I should not be surprised if your intention at 
 this instant were to atone for your latest peccadillo by an 
 hour spent upon your knees in the matrimomial confessionaL 
 Eh?"
 
 319 
 
 Sydney lighted a cigar, and walked out of the apartment 
 without answering. 
 
 Pdta did not .speak until she heard the clang of the front 
 door behind him. Then her features were distorted by rage 
 and mortification. "The pitiful coward! the great, foolish 
 baby ! I would never have wasted a single round upon 
 him, had I suspected of what stuff he was really made ! I 
 am glad he didn't propose to me when he was a bachelor. 
 I should unquestionably have accepted him, and made my- 
 self miserable for tlie remainder of my days. Fancy my 
 bemg tied for life to such a milksop ! He is gloriously 
 handsome, though ! If he belonged to me, I would put him 
 into a glass case as a parlor ornament ! " 
 
 She could swear and vow to herself that she rejoiced in 
 her fortunate escape from the fate she pretended to believe 
 would have been hers, had her girlish wishes been fulfilled 
 but she was intensely chagrined at her failure ; ashamed of 
 the undignified issue of her grand siege. She had never en- 
 joyed an "affair" more. The unexampled facilities offered 
 her for carrying it on had precluded the necessity of labori- 
 ous intriguing on her part, and the partner to the in- 
 teresting pastime was well worth the trouble of catching. 
 But the most pungent and flavorous sauce to her pleasure 
 had been the idea that she was undermining that love and 
 respect for his wife which had grown into a proverb among 
 the fast men and women of her set. 
 
 I, the writer of this latter-day chronicle, am too thorough- 
 going a utilitarian to enter appreciatingly into the spirit of 
 a flirtation with a man already married. If I must be alto- 
 gether candid, I confess to an old-fashioned prejudice that 
 bids me distrust the moral principle, along with the kindli- 
 ness of nature of her who indulges her vanity at the risk of 
 her own reputation and another's peace of mind. I am a
 
 320 
 
 dear lover of fair play, and when two celibate coquettes en- 
 gage each other in a test-duel, I may have my private opin- 
 ion of the good taste and delicacy of the exhibition, but 
 I do not trouble myself with fears and misgivings as to the 
 consequences of the affray. If either party come to grief 
 in the sequel, it is only a matter of individual hurt, and the 
 odds are greatly in favor of the supposition that the worsted 
 combatant deserves all that he or she got, and a scratch or 
 iyfo more. If the mock fight result in the enslavement of 
 both, Hymen steps in decorously, and winds up the affair to 
 the satisfaction of the world at large and the (present) de- 
 lectation of the pair most nearly interested in the ceremony. 
 But this careless or malicious infringement upon the solemn 
 rights of another, and that other an unoffending sister, is 
 dead contrary to my code of morals, and, I may as well add, 
 religion. If God has ordained marriage as the highest state 
 of earthly felicity, and His solemn " Let not man put asun- 
 der ! " warned off the sacrilegious touch from the repository 
 of wedded loves, the conduct of those who vote flirting with 
 single men or women an insipid entertainment in com- 
 parison with the triumph and excitement of a so-called Pla- 
 tonic affaire with the husband or wife of somebody else, is 
 more than "imprudent" or "equivocal." It is a deliberate 
 sin against the Divine law, even though the intimacy never 
 transcend the limits of what a lax fashionable public opinion 
 calls propriety. 
 
 Rita Lambert had ruined the peace of Sydney Bentley's 
 household as effectually as if she had eloped with the hus- 
 band and father, and set the town to ringing with the scan- 
 dal the guilty pair had brought down upon two honorable 
 families. And those who have marked her course to this 
 point, will acquiesce in the assertion that wounded vanity 
 and womanly pique had more to do with averting this dia-
 
 "FOR BETTEK, FOE WOESE." 321 
 
 aster than compassion for the injured wife far more than 
 had virtue or delicacy. 
 
 She spent the evening rather dully for one whose greatest 
 delight in life was to create and to experience a " sensation." 
 Kate's work-basket stood ready to her hand, and in the in- 
 tervals of conversation her needle was active. She did not 
 exert herself to talk, yet her guest had no just occasion to 
 complain of her taciturnity. There was little in common 
 between them ; and the two minds were so opposite in mould 
 and tone, that their range of topics was circumscribed. At 
 nine o'clock, Rita excused herself from sitting up later upon 
 a plea of a " sleepy headache," and betook herself to her 
 dormitory, where, let us hope, her dreams were more inno- 
 cent than the meditations of her waking hours. 
 
 Kate's hands fell nerveless, her calm features darkened 
 convulsively, when her abhorrent companion was gone. She 
 was like one who, scared by a vision of tempest or fire, 
 awakes to find the imperfect yet horrid fancy exceeded by 
 the real danger encompassing her. She had said, "I will 
 know all ! " and now that the extent of that terrible " all " 
 opened up to her realization, she was stricken with dumb 
 paralysis at the revelation. Step by step she forced herself 
 to contemplate the truth. Sydney had never loved her as 
 he did this fair, false creature, who had stolen treacherously 
 into her home. 'Conscience interposed here, 
 
 " Whom you invited hither to tempt him to sin to do 
 this wicked wrong against virtue and yourself. If they have 
 committed it, are your skirts clear? Are you not, in a 
 great and comprehensive sense, your husband's keeper ? " 
 The smart of the telling blow moved the numbed spirit to 
 sentiency. 
 
 " Constancy which cannot withstand the glozing arts of a 
 bold, bad woman is not worth having ! " she uttered, 
 audibly. " From this hour, he is no husband of mine ! lie
 
 322 " FOll BETTER, FOE WOKSE." 
 
 has chosen his path. Let him walk in it. His sin is upon 
 his own head not mine ! " 
 
 For three dreary, formal, wretched days, the hollow seem- 
 ing of polite intercourse went on between the alienated pair. 
 They sat at the same board, and in the presence of the ser- 
 vants talked together upon indifferent subjects, as if the one 
 torturing subject were not gnawing in the mind of each. 
 Sydney still went through the routine of asking every morn- 
 ing if he could serve her in any way, and Kate returned a 
 sentence of acknowledgment, accepting or declining his olfer. 
 He still sent home from the markets the delicacies he knew 
 she preferred, and she studied his taste in the preparation of 
 her bills of fare. For all else that could have told that they 
 were not strangers, or chance fellow-lodgers in the same 
 house, each might have been ignorant of the other's character 
 and name. 
 
 The fourth evening, Sydney appeared in the snug sewing- 
 room, where Kate now sat habitually from tea until bedtime, 
 unless there were calls for her below. She looked up in sur- 
 prise, not agitation, at the xmcommon occurrence of a visit 
 from him to her sanctum ; set a chair forward for him, and, 
 without resuming her seat, awaited the expression of his 
 wishes with the deferential mien of a housekeeper who at- 
 tended upon his master's commands. 
 
 " You will oblige me by sitting down," he said ; " I pre- 
 fer to stand. I shall not detain you many minutes." 
 
 She bowed slightly and obeyed. 
 
 He took up his position upon- the opposite side of her 
 work-table, resting the knuckles of his left hand hard upon 
 the top of it. " Do not let me interrupt your sewing." 
 
 Again she complied with his request, setting stitch after 
 stitch with clock-work regularity. 
 
 " I would not have intruded upon your privacy, had there 
 not existed imperative reasons for my seeking this inter-
 
 "FOE BOTTEK, FOB WOKBE." 323 
 
 view," he continued, in the forced, dry tone he had before 
 used. " I am here to communicate to you the details of a 
 plan which has been agreed upon this day by my father 
 and myself. You are aware that we are the largest tcu 
 importei's in this city, and in order to carry on our busi- 
 ness successfully, we found it expedient, many years ago, to 
 establish a branch of our house, forwarding merchants, iu 
 Shanghai, China. We have reason to suspect gross mis- 
 management on the part of our agents there. It is thought 
 best that one of the firm should sail immediately to investi- 
 gate these disorders and rectify them, if practicable. I have 
 offered to go. The vessel will sail to-morrow at noon. I 
 have made arrangements that will, I hope, secure your com- 
 fort during my absence. My father will provide you with 
 whatever funds you wish. I have directed him to pay over 
 to you, monthly, the sum we now expend for housekeeping 
 and other family expenses, and as much more as you need. 
 I beg that you will not hesitate to draw freely upon the 
 amount deposited in his care. It is for your use alone ; 
 subject only to your order. One of the clerks from our 
 office, a steady, trusty fellow, will occupy a room in this 
 house at night, that you may not feel yourself unprotected 
 in the event of alarm from sickness or any other cause. I 
 hope, moreover, that you will invite some lady, a relative or 
 friend, whomsoever you like, to live with you." 
 
 The cold sweat was pressed in great globules through 
 every pore of Kate's body ; her fingers were like frozen clay, 
 but they kept up their mechanical motion, and the stitches 
 they fashioned were still minute and even, although the face 
 bent over them was livid. 
 
 Sydney cleared his throat before recommencing. a I leave 
 with less unwillingness because Lulu is rapidly regaining 
 health and strength. I have but one favor to ask of you. 
 You may refuse it if you consider it unreasonable, and 1
 
 324: 
 
 shall not murmur. Let me hear, now and then, of her, 
 You can send me a few lines under your own hand; or if 
 this will be an imposition upon your time, a message iu 
 my father's letters, telling me that you are both well, will 
 answer the same purpose." 
 
 A dead silence. In the pulseless stillness of the room 
 could be heard the hiss of the taut silk, as it was drawn 
 through the fabric in the wife's hand, the faint buzz of the 
 gas-light overhead. 
 
 The dry, strained voice took up the word again : " If 
 there is anything else which you would like to have attended 
 to before my departure, you will greatly oblige me by men- 
 tioning it now. My preparations have been made in such 
 haste, it is very possible that I may have omitted something 
 of importance. It is my sincere wish to leave nothing un- 
 done that could contribute to your welfare and happiness." 
 He stopped short, arrested by a change in the aspect of the 
 figure opposite, a quiver, like the tremor of a tree before the 
 breaking of a storm ;- a visible variation in the shuttle-like 
 motion of the hand; a lower droop of the head. He 
 thought her impulse had been to interrupt him by some cor- 
 rection or suggestion. The movement, slight, scarcely dis- 
 cernible save by eyes sharpened, as were his, by love and 
 suffering, seemed to him to signify dissent, to negative his 
 closing words. 
 
 If the face had not been so studiously averted, he would 
 have seen a singular smile wring the lips a desolate win- 
 try contortion, more foreign to joyousness than weeping 
 would have been. The mouth moved too, in syllabic utter- 
 ance, but the whisper was inaudible. The word formed by 
 the stirred muscles was the one he had just used. 
 
 " Happiness /" Then she gathered up her forces and was 
 mistress of herself once more. " Thank you ! I have no 
 amendments to suggest. I have no doubt that the arrange-
 
 " FOB BETTER, FOE WOESE." 325 
 
 ments you have already made will be altogether satisfactory. 
 How long shall you probably be absent? " 
 
 Lest he should imagine that she felt any personal anx- 
 iety in his reply, she looked up and showed him features 
 pale but still stillness that was tranquillity itself com- 
 pai-ed with the disquiet of those that met her view. 
 
 There vvei'e beads of agony upon his forehead; a cadaver- 
 ous hue had supplanted his habitually clear complexion; 
 his eyes were hollow and large, and the hand he raised 
 instinctively to hide the twitching mouth shook as with an 
 ague. He was suffering dreadfully. Kate could not disbe- 
 lieve this; biit had he not deserved it all? Was he not the 
 destroyer of her happiness a traitor, liar, and hypocrite ? 
 She set these counts prominently in order before her mind, 
 and her courage augmented in the review. 
 
 " That is altogether uncertain." 
 
 " Excuse me. I should not have asked the question." 
 
 " You had a perfect right to do it. If I knew anything 
 about it myself, I would not hesitate to reply decidedly as 
 to the length of my stay." 
 
 Kate picked up her needle and took a dozen careful 
 stitches. " 1 hope you will have a comfortable voyage. It 
 is unfortunate that you should be obliged to sail in win- 
 ter." 
 
 Sydney caught at the shadowy objection. "Do you dis- 
 approve of this step? Does it seem to you precipitate? 
 If you think it ill-advised, I can reconsider the matter." 
 
 "By no means. I approve of the scheme so far as I 
 comprehend it. You could not wait until spring, since, as 
 you have said, your presence is required in the foreign 
 house. "What can I do towards getting you ready ? What 
 shall I pack?" 
 
 "Nothing. You are very kind, but I will not trouble 
 you. I have put up all that I am likely to need."
 
 326 "FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE." 
 
 Kate went on with the work she had offered to lay 
 aside. Her manner said plainly that she regarded the con- 
 ference closed. 
 
 Sydney lingered. He had laid hold of the tall back of 
 an antique chair, and the fingers seemed to be one with tho 
 carved wood, so tight was their clutch. 
 
 "One word!" His tone was less firm and more husky. 
 " I cannot leave you without attempting to qualify the im- 
 pression made upon your mind by the scene you witnessed 
 accidentally last Friday night." 
 
 If he had expected to see her wince at the allusion, he 
 was mistaken. She was entirely prepared for what followed 
 the falter in voice and bearing. 
 
 " And I wish to confirm your opinion that my intrusion 
 was accidental," she answered, unmoved. "I did not know 
 there was any one in the parlor when I pushed back the 
 doors." 
 
 Sydney put aside this needless explanation without note. 
 " I have been culpable enough, heaven knows ! have sinned 
 too deeply, in some respects, to hope for your pardon. But, 
 in this one instance, I was less in fault than appearances 
 warranted you in believing. You saw the worst. If you 
 had not lost faith in me before, I might be able to clear my- 
 self from this new and most* injurious suspicion. I can 
 only declare upon the word of a man who feels that this 
 may be the last and only opportunity ever granted him for 
 setting himself right in the estimation of one whom he 
 honors and respects more than all the world beside that, 
 from the hour in which I first knew you, no one else has 
 ever disputed your place in my heart. In spirit and in 
 letter I have been true to you. I do not expect you to 
 credit this wholly now. Your confidence in me has been 
 too rudely shaken to allow this. But something within me 
 tells me that the time may come when it will comfort you to
 
 327 
 
 remember what I have just said; when you will do my 
 atiection for you tardy justice but it will be justice. I 
 should be content to wait only time passes so slowly ! " 
 
 He was forgetting himself, and he paiised to collect his 
 senses. His next sentence sounded both timid and formal. 
 It might have been the effect of embarrassment induced by 
 his wife's freezing silence. Kate believed it the restraint 
 put upon speech by conscious guilt. 
 
 "No other woman has ever heard from me a syllable de- 
 noting disloyalty to you." 
 
 Her eyes flashed scornfully. There was no longer any 
 flutter in her demeanor. She sat haughtily erect, her eyes 
 bent upon her everlasting stitching, the glittering needle 
 and its whip of crimson silk darting in and out of Lulu's 
 Cashmere cloak. The mother was forever at work for her 
 idol. 
 
 " Will you not promise me to recollect this when T am 
 gone, Kate?" 
 
 The cry of anguish drew forth the late reply: "Why 
 should I, Sydney? I am not angry with you or with her/ 
 I learned nothing that night. The shock was not what you 
 suppose it to have been. I knew all before ; knew that she 
 was an earlier love than I, and that her old supremacy was 
 re-established. I do believe you would have been faithful 
 to me if you could. But it was not in your nature. With 
 you, the affections are stronger than principle. It is often 
 so. Women are very artful, and men most men are 
 very weak. Let it pass ! No good can come of raking the 
 fire into a fiercer glow. If we would part friends, and 
 there is no reason why we should not, it is unwise and 
 unkind to refer to this subject. A volume of protestations 
 to the contrary would not convince me that I am in error. 
 You are acting prudently most judiciously in quitting 
 the country for a few months, or years, as the case shall
 
 328 "FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE." 
 
 require. While I live, and our outward relations remain 
 unchanged, you can never be more to her than you are now. 
 The width of half the globe cannot put us you and me 
 further apart than we already are in heart and in interests. 
 A prolonged absence is best for us both, and if you will 
 make it long enough, it is the surest means for the attain- 
 ment of a desirable end." 
 
 He made an impetuous step toward her. "Kate! Can 
 it be my wife who so coolly decrees our separation ! who 
 designates the step by which a divorce is to be attained ! 
 A divorce! Think of it! For us, who once loved one 
 another so well ! " 
 
 " Once ! " with the dreary gleam that had broken up the 
 dead calm of her features awhile before. "Once is not 
 now ! It is the initial step that counts in the dissolution of 
 the marriage tie, as in everything else in this world. That 
 step I did not take ! " 
 
 This, their last private interview, ended there. Tb.e 
 house was in a bustle all the next forenoon. Mrs. Bentley, 
 Mrs. Risley, Eliza, and Anna, were there to assist in getting 
 the voyager ready, and finding his one trunk packed and 
 strapped, and that he had himself gone down town to settle 
 a few parting matters with his father, the four disconsolate 
 relatives sat themselves down to ''keep up poor Kate's 
 spirits" by keeping their own down to the lowest possible 
 ebb. Paler than any ghost, every nerve in her head ting- 
 ling with keenest pain, she whom they meant to console 
 was the most composed member of the family party. 
 
 "Just as I always said!" remarked Eliza, when her 
 mother, after the wont of mild elderly ladies, whose tears lie 
 very near the surface, and whose hearts are so soft that the 
 wounds inflicted by unkind fortune close up with comfort- 
 able rapidity, complimented her daughter-in-law upon her 
 "amazing strength of mind," and "command of her feelings^'
 
 " FOE BETTEK, FOE WOBSE." 329 
 
 ftnd wished snivellingly, that she " was mistress of her emo- 
 tions, but this parting would kill her she knew it would ! 
 she had a presentiment that she was not long for thia 
 world; but she had hoped to die in her nest, with all 
 her children about her; and to think that Sydney, the 
 only boy she had left to her old age, and the best son a 
 mother ever had, should " regular break-down and general 
 unintelligibility. * 
 
 " Just as I always said ! " said the acute Eliza. " There 
 is nothing more deceptive than appearances, particularly 
 where newly-married people are concerned. A hot beginning 
 is almost sure to have a cold ending. Kate's supernatural 
 self-command reminds me of the story of the man who said 
 he thought his wife so sweet during the honeymoon that he 
 wanted to eat her up, and he had been sorry ever since that 
 he had not done it ! " 
 
 Mrs. Bentley tittered through her tears. "How very 
 funny you are, my dear ! She is the best company I know 
 Katie, love, when one is depressed. She has such a flow of 
 spirits ! " 
 
 Eliza was not to be diverted from her purpose by sugared 
 crumbs of compliment. 
 
 "As I was saying, this excessive billing and cooing for a 
 few weeks, invariably subsides into the iciest sort of friendly 
 regard when the weeks have grown into years. The devoted 
 wife sheds fewer tears over her husband's departure for 
 the world's end than she once poured forth over his 
 absenting himself for three hours from the heaven of her 
 presence." 
 
 Kate had learned long since to pay no apparent regard to 
 (he needles and pins which tumbled from Eliza's dry pur- 
 plish lips as rapidly as did the frogs, spiders, and scorpions, 
 from the rosy mouth of the bad little girl in the fairy tale. 
 The sharp spinster made so many passes at her nearest and 
 28*
 
 330 "FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE." 
 
 dearest of kin, that it would have been miraculous had slid 
 in every instance, failed to touch a vulnerable point. Tin? 
 one went straight home to the sorest spot of Kate's heart ; 
 but her face grew no whiter, that could hardly have bye si, 
 and she could smile without essaying a reply. Eliza di cl 
 not relish replies as a general thing. She preferred to feel 
 that she had routed her enemy pro tempore, foot and horse ; 
 demolished what she had struck, root and branch. A nota- 
 blo exception to the rest of her sex, she was never satisfied 
 without having the last word. Grant her that, and she was 
 benignant for hei*. 
 
 Noon drew on apace, and Sydney came in, with his father, 
 to say that he must be gone within the hour. His wife had 
 provided a bountiful luncheon, and the family discussed it 
 in full conclave. Mrs. Bisley, only, of the ladies, noticed 
 that Kate could not eat a mouthful, an inability she covered 
 cleverly by attention to the wants of others. Sydney's cor- 
 responding lack of appetite was commented upon pityingly 
 by his mother, lovingly by Anna, and sourly by Eliza. 
 
 " Are you sea-sick in anticipation ? " asked the latter. 
 " If I were in your place, I would reserve my display of 
 fsntimental qualmishness until it was beyond my power to 
 get a civilized ineal. You can pine then at your leisure, 
 without losing such oysters and quails as these. And the 
 sheep's eyes you have been stealing at Kate ever since you 
 sat down are all thrown away. She has been telling us how 
 resigned she is to your departure. You never did a more 
 sensible thing, if we are to believe her. Rita Lambert, new, 
 would return your lovesick glances with compound interest, 
 but your wife is made of different metal." 
 
 " I am thankful that she is ! " spoke up Sydney, boldly 
 and fervently. 
 
 Eliza peaked her eyebrows fretfully. " Heyday ! what has 
 happened ? Have you quarrelled with la belle Margarita, or
 
 ** FOK BETTER, FOE WOESE." 331 
 
 is that a bit of flummery intended for Kate's benefit, a sweet- 
 meat which she can roll under her tongue while you are 
 away ? You wouldn't derive much consolation from the 
 process, let me tell you, Mrs. Sydney Bentley, if you had 
 met them as I did, one moonlight night a fortnight ago, 
 walking arm-in-arm, he staring down into her eyes, she 
 staring up into his, like a couple of enamoured calves ! " 
 
 " I do not recollect it, " "began her brother. 
 
 " Of course not ! I didn't expect you to see so insignifi- 
 cant a personage as I am. But I saw you ! Moreover, I 
 passed so close to you that I could hear every word you said. 
 I heard you talking abo\it an 'uncongenial union,' and 
 she sighed dolefully in reply. It is just as well that he should 
 go to the antipodes, Kate. I quite agree with you on that 
 head. The whole town is ringing with talk about his re- 
 vived flirtation, and people wonder how you can stand by 
 and suffer it." 
 
 "It is high time you were off, my boy!" said old Mr. 
 Bentlsy, hastily. 
 
 He dared not incense the little black dog by rebuking his 
 owner's slanderous tongue, but he noted the crimson that 
 dyed Sydney's brow, and the spark that shot up wrathfully 
 in his eye at this outrageously indelicate and unfeeling speech, 
 and he brought up the conversation " all standing." Not 
 a muscle of Kate's countenance quivered at the new attack. 
 Eliza could divulge nothing which could affect her ; for the 
 wife knew more than the sister's most uncharitable imagin- 
 ings had ever pictured. What difference could her silly 
 revelal ions make in a destiny already black as midnight ? 
 
 The leave-takings were quickly over. Mother and sisters 
 wept profusely, Mrs. Bentley and Eliza, who were to accom- 
 pany Sydney to the wharf, shedding as many tears as the 
 others. Eulu cried loudly, clinging to her father's neck, and 
 protesting that he should not go. Old Mr. Bentley blew his
 
 332 , "FOR BETTER) FOR WORSE." 
 
 nose repeatedly, and the two servant girls buried tlieir faces 
 in tlieir aprons after saying " farewell " to their kind master. 
 Kate, dry-eyed and unhysterical, moved about the group, 
 putting on Mrs. Bentley's cloak; restoring the cane her 
 father-in-law had let fall ; tightening the buckles that bound 
 Sydney's travelling-shawl, life-preserver, and telescope into 
 a compact bundle, and herself coaxing Lulu from the arms 
 that could not voluntarily release her. 
 
 " Take her up-stairs, Bessie ! Mamma will come to you 
 pretty soon now, love," she said to nurse and child, as she 
 opened the door to allow the former to make her exit with 
 her shrieking charge. 
 
 Turning back toward the centre of the room, she was met by 
 her husband. He caught her in an embrace that threatened 
 suffocation, straining her to his breast so closely that the 
 mighty throbbings of his heart shook her from head to foot, 
 and kissed her wildly once, twice, thrice, with an irrepres- 
 sible sob, conveying to her ear alone his anguished farewell. 
 
 "My wife! my wife!" 
 
 When he let her go he looked at and spoke to no ono 
 else, but rushed from the room and house. Mrs. Risley and 
 Anna followed him to the door. They had not thought it 
 singular that Kate had declined going down to the vessel, 
 although Eliza had exclaimed at it as unnatural and unwife 
 like, and Mrs. Bentley had plaintively wondered that " she 
 did not want to see the last of her husband." Being women 
 of refinement, no less than warmth of feeling, the younger 
 sisters sympathized with the shrinking from a public display 
 of grief the disinclination to make a spectacle of herself 
 and her emotions for the edification of the gaping crowd 
 upon the quay, which they imagined influenced the wife's 
 refusal to be one of the carriage-party. 
 
 They were surprised, and disposed to be indignant, how- 
 ever, th-tt she did not appear in the hall or at the window as
 
 "FOR BETTEE, FOE WOESE." 333 
 
 the carriage drove off, and sorry for Sydney when his last 
 sad, wistful look at his home was not repaid by another 
 glimpse of her, by a loving nod or a kiss flung after him 
 that he might thenceforward connect with that parting 
 view. They exchanged meaning glances respecting the omis- 
 sion as they lost sight of the vehicle at the corner, looks of 
 disapprobation and dawning resentment at the slight offered 
 their beloved brother, that gave way to serious concern and 
 tenderest pity when they returned to the parlor and found 
 Kate in a dead faint upon the floor. She had not stirred an 
 inch from the spot where her husband had left her.
 
 334 "FOE BETTEE. FOB WOBSB." 
 
 CHAPTER VIL 
 
 SYDNEY sailed for the Orient in December, and Mrs. 
 Sydney Bentley was as much lost to society for the rest of 
 the winter and throughout the spring as if she had been his 
 compagtion du voyage, or had entered a convent to secure 
 more complete seclusion from the world. 
 
 So said her gay acquaintances whenever the absence of the 
 husband and wife from their accustomed haunts was spoken 
 of. There were several reasons for this retirement other 
 than that popularly received as the main motive of Kate's 
 non-appeai'ance abroad ; to- wit, her regret at her handsome 
 partner's departure, and disinclination to visit alone the 
 scenes they had formerly enjoyed in company. First, these 
 had really lost all attraction to her care-laden spirit. Next, 
 Eliza's words touching Sydney's entanglement with Rita 
 Lambert were ever with her, " The town is ringing with 
 talk about the revived flirtation." She would not afford ad- 
 ditional food for scandal pander to the vitiated appetite 
 already busy with the story of her husband's infidelity and 
 his indifference to her neglected condition. Besides, her 
 health was anything but firm, and there was no prospect of 
 immediate improvement. Time and patience would bring 
 relief in due season, but time was weary-footed and lagged 
 on his toilsome route, and she had not tutored her nature to 
 patient endurance. 
 
 Mrs. Risley called one afternoon, late in March, to invito 
 her to ride with her, and was met at the door by the intelli-
 
 "FOE BETTER, FOE WOESB." 335 
 
 gence that Mrs. Bentley had not left her room that day, and 
 was, the servant believed, more unwell than usual. The 
 kind-hearted little woman had a sincere regard for her sister- 
 in-law, and it was genuine solicitude that sobered her bright 
 countenance as she ran up-stairs and presented herself in the 
 invalid's chamber. 
 
 Kate lay upon the lounge by the window, wrapped in a 
 white dressing-gown, and gazing with mournful listlessnesa 
 up at the spring clouds, soft and fleecy, with promise of 
 warm rains and balmy airs. She started and colored faintly, 
 as if interrupted in forbidden reverie, when Mrs. Eisley 
 tapped at the half-open door. 
 
 " Ah, Mildred ! is it you ? I was thinking of you just 
 now, and hoping you were enjoying this lovely weather. It 
 is unseasonable, though, and affects me unpleasantly. I lack 
 the energy to move a finger." 
 
 The confession, so unlike the lately active and diligent 
 Kate, struck painfully upon Mrs. Risley's ear. Few things 
 were more to be dreaded for one in the speaker's condition 
 than this apathetic disposition of body and mind. 
 
 " I have come to sue for the pleasure of your company in 
 my afternoon ride," she said, encouragingly. " It is as 
 mild as June out-of-doors, and everybody is abroad, walk- 
 ing or driving. If you can once reach the carriage you will 
 feel better." 
 
 Kate shook her head. <c I have had a wearing headache 
 all day. I am seldom entirely free from headache, now. I 
 think it is because I rest so badly at night. And when the 
 pain leaves me I am fit for nothing but to lie still and be 
 thankful, in a dull, stupid way, that it has gone at last. 
 I could not bear the motion of a carriage ; but I am none 
 the less obliged to you for your thoughtfulness of my com- 
 fort." 
 
 " Headache and sleeplessness ! " repeated Mrs. Bisley, sit'
 
 336 
 
 ting down by the sofa,' and taking in hers the dry, thin fin- 
 gers lying upon the pillow. " We must look to this. Have 
 you seen the doctor !" 
 
 Kate made an impatient gesture. " The doctor ! What 
 can he do ? What does he, or any other man know about a 
 woman except what she chooses to tell him ? I can manage 
 myself better than he can instruct me how to do. There ia 
 nothing the matter that will not come all right, by and by ; 
 nothing which I cannot bear well enough generally. Only, 
 to-day, I am weak and nervous, and having been, for a^ won- 
 der, a little lonely, I was so foolish as to run on with a 
 string of complaints to you, like a spoiled baby. I suppose 
 I was betrayed into the folly because you. are the only friend 
 who has blessed my sight for twenty-four hours." 
 
 The affected levity did not deceive the auditor. " You 
 are too much alone ! " she remonstrated. <; You should 
 have accepted Anna's offer, and let her spend at least half 
 her time with you. This was Sydney's wish, papa says. 
 He dreaded your being lonely more than anything else. He 
 enjoined upon papa the duty of seeing you himself every day, 
 of sending mamma and the girls in as often. Papa and 
 mamma are out of town, you know ? " 
 
 " Yes. Anna begged leave to stay with me while they 
 were away, but Eliza seemed to think this hardly fair ; and, 
 after all, I am fond of a quiet life." 
 
 " It is not good for you, just now ! " persisted the elder 
 matron. " And Sydney will be displeased when he hears 
 that his parting request has been disregarded. We did 
 not understand, at the time, why he laid such stress upon 
 it." 
 
 Kate turned away her head suddenly, while a burning 
 flush suffused her neck and the cheek visible to her com- 
 panion. 
 
 "He did not know he had no idea that there was any
 
 337 
 
 that it would bo inexpedient for me to spend all my time 
 in solitude," slio said, with liuvried incoherence. "Ho sus- 
 j-^cted nothing then. Ho knows nothing now." 
 
 '' Is it possible ? My dear sister, you amaze me ! Yet I 
 am greatly relieved, too ! I have thought it very strango 
 
 quite unlike his usual loving consideration for your wel- 
 fare and wishes, his watchful care of your health, that he 
 should leave you at this time for an. absence of such length. 
 Anna and I have talked the matter over several times, and 
 I own to you that we have blamed him severely." 
 
 " You were unjust," returned Kate, but not with the 
 eager haste generally manifested by an affectionate wife in 
 defending her husband from unmerited censure. " I knew 
 that he must go ; that it would be wrong for him to remain 
 here a day longer, and I would not throw a straw in the 
 path of his duty." 
 
 " It is you who were unjust there cruel to yourself and 
 to him ! " said the sister-in-law, in gentle chiding. " Poor 
 fellow ! his heart will smite him grievously when he learns 
 how you have needed him. You may talk to me all day 
 about your fortitude and independence of others' help, and 
 you cannob convince me that you are are not suffering 
 hourly for the .want of his care and petting. Such a good 
 nur.se as he is, too ! Your conduct was very brave, very 
 heroic and unselfish, but extremely foreign to the practice 
 of most wives. If we haven't a right to be first in our hus- 
 bands' thoughts, haven't the best claim to their time and 
 attention, where is the use of being married? Shanghai 
 might go to Jericho, and all the tea in China and America 
 to the bottom of the Red Sea, before I would let my Lewi:; 
 leave me at such a time," continued the little lady, waxiu;; 
 vehement. " I don't believe there is another woman in the 
 city capable of making the sacrifice you have done." 
 
 " None of us can tell what we are capable of bearing and 
 39
 
 338 "FOB BETTER, FOE WORSE." 
 
 doing until our day of trial comes," answered Kate, lacon 
 ically. 
 
 Without divining the full import of this truism, Mrs. Ills- 
 ley was deterred by her manner from pursuing the subject 
 that had given rise to the observation. The succeeding silence 
 had lasted long enough to be awkward, when Anna's step 
 was heard upon the staircase, and she brought her fresh 
 face and pretty spring attire into the room. 
 
 " The greatest piece of news ! " she exclaimed, scarcely 
 waiting to kiss her sisters. " Rita Lambert is going to be 
 married ! " 
 
 " Bah ! I have heard that a dozen times before 1 "said 
 Mrs. Eisley, incredulously. 
 
 . " But there is no mistake this time ! She has commenced 
 the preparations for her trousseau. She showed me her list. 
 Most of the dresses are to be bought in Paris, and as to 
 lingerie and laces, they throw my modest outfit into the 
 shade. She vows that she must and will have a velvet cloak 
 and a camel's hair shawl. Her brother-in-law has half pro- 
 mised to give her the shawl, and she asked me if Sydney 
 wouldn't select it while he is in China. She has seen somo 
 lovely ones that were purchased in China, she says. So 
 I am to write to Syd forthwith and broach the important 
 matter ; for although she is going to work in such a hurry, 
 the affair is not to come off until September. Still, as Rita 
 says, one needs six months, at the very least, in which to 
 get decently ready. I declare, she is the most fortunate girl 
 alive ! She has scores of rich relations who are era ay to 
 marry her off, and they have promised hei\all sorts of hand- 
 some presents. One old great-aunt is to have her diamond 
 bracelet broken up and the stones reset in a brooch and ear- 
 ringij for her favorite niece, and an uncle, a wealthy ihy- 
 goods merchant, is to give her a point-lace shawl, and aa 
 aunt the wedding veil "
 
 " FOK BETTER, FOR WOESE." 339 
 
 " And another the husband? "queried Mrs. Risley, laugh- 
 ing at this breathless rigmarole. " Or has this petty appen- 
 dage to all the bridal magnificence been overloooked 
 altogether in the family arrangements? " 
 
 " That is just what he is ! a petty appendage to the -wed- 
 ding finery ! " cried Anna, scornfully. " I wouldn't many 
 him if he were ten times as rich and he is a reputed 
 millionnaire. He was once a member of Congress, too, and 
 Rita hopes he may secure a foreign appointment some day, 
 when she can queen it as Madame 1'Ambassadrice among 
 kings and nobles. You should hear her run on ! " 
 
 " It is enough to hear you ! She didn't mention his name, 
 then ! " 
 
 " Of course she did, dozens of times ! Haven't I told 
 you ? She engaged herself, last week, to Mr. Pepper, the 
 nabob, who has lately bought Oakland, the palatial country 
 seat up the river." 
 
 " He is old enough to be her father ; a withered yellow 
 little man, who looks like a Jew, with his hooked nose, big 
 diamond studs, and twinkling black eyes ! " was Mrs. Risley's 
 amazed criticism upon the fair Rita's chosen one. " A girl 
 who has had such excellent offers ! I am ashamed of her and 
 my sex ! fairly disgusted with such mercenary conduct ! " 
 
 " She doesn't pretend to be dying with love for him," 
 laughed Anna. " She means, according to her statement, 
 to sectire the best portion of this world's goods she can fur 
 herself. In her earlier and romantic days, she hoped to find 
 money, beauty, and talent united ; but a long and diligent 
 search for these hidden treasures has convinced her that the 
 gods bestowed these gifts as solitaires never set them in 
 clusters. You can guess how she rattles this nonsense off." 
 
 " She is a heartless, scheming coquette, who has sold her- 
 self for money," observed the married sister, energetically. 
 "I am glad you see through her plausible mask at last,,
 
 340 "FOK BETTER, FOR WORSE." 
 
 Anna ! I have never liked her since she angled so boldly fol 
 Sydney, that lirst summer she spent with us at Hawksnest. 
 I chanced to overhear a portion of her conversation with 
 him upon the piazza, the evening before he left for Saratoga. 
 You remember how surprised the rest of the family were 
 when he announced his resolution to set off immediately for 
 the Springs. The girl positively shocked me by her daring 
 wiles. She almost threw herself at his feet, yet she looked 
 so beautiful and talked so artfully that most men would have 
 fallen headlong into her snare without seeing it. Sydney 
 heard all her sentimentalisnis, and answered all her cunning 
 questions, as a married man of fifty might have replied to a 
 child of twelve, whose pertness amused him. But when she 
 had gone up stairs, he came to my room and told me what 
 had happened. ' This is getting to be rather too strong fox' 
 my taste,' he said. 'I don't want to marry the girl. If I 
 stay here I must either flirt with, or be rude to her. I shall 
 take refuge in flight. She is young and inexperienced. 
 She will learn wisdom in time.' " 
 
 " Why have you never told me this before ? " asked Kate 
 sharply. 
 
 Both sisters started at the tone. " For two reasons, my 
 dear," rejoined Mrs Risley. " I did not like to prejudice 
 you unnecessarily against Rita; she is a spoiled beauty, 
 whose mother died when she was a child. It seemed unkind 
 to say anything about what I was convinced was her early 
 disappointment in husband-hunting, so long as she remained 
 single or disengaged. Besides these scruples, I never doubted 
 but that Sydney had enlightened you as to the character 
 of the 'flirtation' to which Eliza had so often i\ 
 Women of Rita's stamp never die with unrequited affection. 1 
 They sear over the wound, which is oftener in their self- 
 osteeni than in their hearts, and '' 
 
 " Harry Mr. Peppers, with diamond pins as big as cart*
 
 341 
 
 wheels and purses deep as wells ! " finished .A mm. " Ks 
 isn't as tall as she is by half a head ! How conlcl she ever 
 look at him a second time, if she had once fancied herself 
 in love with our noble, splendid, gallant Syd ! " 
 
 When the sisters had gone, Kate lay still in the twilight, 
 thinking over the story she had heard. Once in his life, then, 
 it appeared that her husband had resisted the enchantments 
 that overthrew his defences at a later day. With respect 
 to that earlier entanglement, she had wronged him. He had 
 spoken truly in protesting that, up to his marriage, he had 
 never known a sentiment of affection for the syren that had 
 wrought his subsequent ruin. Could there be, also, a grain 
 of truth in the solemn asseveration he had pressed home 
 upon her memory, in the persuasion '' that the time might 
 come when it would comfort her to remember it " ? 
 
 It had not come yet! She cbuld defend him, to her 
 sister, from the charge of neglecting to provide aright for her 
 happiness and well-being during the present trying season of 
 her life ; might keep up before his relatives and the world 
 a brave and comely show of wifely duty, but at the secret 
 tribunal of her heart he stood a condemned criminal still, 
 recommended to mercy by naught save the occasional weak 
 wail of the woman's nature, that yet clung with tenacity 
 which Reason called infatuation, to the mixed clay and metal 
 that made up the idol she had formerly worshipped with 
 spirit, will, and reason. A stern look a fierce despair 
 came over her countenance now as she conned, for the thou- 
 sandth time, the history of her married life. 
 
 " He has robbed me of everything ! He took me from my 
 father's house from my free, happy, hopeful girl-life, with 
 its atmosphere of protecting love and tenderness; he has 
 torn away the brighter existence I had pictured to my self as 
 growing up beneath his promised love and care. Stripped 
 of hope and love, as well as joy, I am nothing better tha.u n 
 SU*
 
 312 "FOB BETTER, FOR WORSE." 
 
 piece of dead driftwood at the mersy of every wave. I gave 
 him my all, and he cast it from him. Oh, my lost love ! 
 my beautiful, beautiful dreams ! my wasted life ! " 
 
 The poor, thin fingers could not keep back the tears, and 
 her growing weakness rendered her less able, each day, to 
 maintain a semblance of calm resignation to Fate. She was 
 not the strong, self-contained woman she had been when her 
 husband pleaded vainly for her pardon. She could not have 
 looked into his eyes, to-day, and told him of her lost faith 
 in his truth. She trembled and wept in the extremity of her 
 desolation, as the feeblest girl might have done. Had she 
 asked herself the cause of this distress, she would have an- 
 swered in the same spirit as did the consumptive girl whose 
 " e/e me regrette" is, if one of the most egotistical, one of 
 the most pathetic plaints upon record. A wasted life ! a 
 lost love ! departed faith. Grant the truth of these three 
 bereavements, and what has earth left in her gift that is 
 worth a glance of the depressed eye, the lifting of the 
 nerveless hand ? Only Duty, and Duty is a grim substitute 
 for Love and Hope. 
 
 " He will come home when he hears that site is married ! " 
 she said, in the lessening throes of the paroxysm. "It will 
 be several months before that happens, and then I shall not 
 be here ! " 
 
 April passed, May came and went, and the long, hot June 
 days brought to the public mind alluring pictures of country 
 houses and rural, or seaside watering-places. The Bentleys 
 would not leave town for the shades and mountain airs of 
 Hawksnest so early as usual, this year. One and all, they 
 were uneasy about Kate. Her wan face, sunken eyes, 
 cr3eping step, and fluttering breath awoke the serious 
 apprehensions in view of the approaching draught upon her 
 strength. She surveyed the prospect that alarmed then? 
 with apparent calmness Once, she had talked openly to
 
 343 
 
 Mrs. Risley of her belief that she would not survive her 
 sickness. 
 
 " I have few worldly preparations to make for the change," 
 she said. " It is seldom that a wife and mother can be so 
 easily spared. My death r will not be a very sad inconveni- 
 ence to any one. You will take Lulu and care for her as 
 you do for your own children. You have no little girl. I 
 give you mine. If her father should I mean when he 
 shall marry again, I think he will respect my wish, and let 
 her stay with you. I do not want her to be subject to a step- 
 mother's whims. Your rule will be more mild than mine. 
 Sydney always said that I was too rigid ; that he was, at 
 times, afraid of me. It would have hurt me to see her 
 learn to shrink from her mother." 
 
 Mrs. Risley was weeping, while the speaker did not shed 
 a tear. 
 
 "And your husband?" interrogated the former. "If 
 your presentiment should prove to be correct, which I 
 hope and pray may not come to pass, what shall I say to 
 my poor, distracted brother ?" 
 
 "lie will suffer for a little while!" rejoined Kate, smil- 
 ing sadly. " He has a tender heart, poor fellow ! But he 
 will need no message from me other than a repetition of 
 what I have often said to you, that I never blamed him 
 for going when he did. It was the only thing for him to 
 tlo in the circumstances. His absence has spared him 
 sorrow and anxiety, and he was not made to cope with 
 trouble." 
 
 About a week after this conversation, as Kate was alone, 
 one afternoon, in her up-stairs sitting-room, the maid a 
 new servant brought up' word that a lady wished to see 
 her. She had given no name, and would not detain Mrs. 
 Beutley ten minutes, but she must see her upon important
 
 SM "FOK BETTER, FOR WOKSE." 
 
 business. Languidly wondering at this message, Kate or- 
 dered her to be shown up. 
 
 A rush of blood bathed her white cheeks as Rita Lain- 
 bort, insolently gorgeous in the ripeness of her beauty, 
 sailed in. "With her blooming complexion, full, laughing 
 eyes, and rich round tones, she seemed to absorb what little 
 of vital force yet remained in the invalid's trembling frame. 
 She could just incline her head in reply to the gracious 
 salutations poured forth by the intruder, and point to a 
 chair more distant from hers than Rita had evidently de- 
 signed to take. 
 
 "As you please !"-said Mr. Pepper's affianced, swimming 
 oif to the position designated. " I beg your pardon for for- 
 getting, until this moment, that you dislike the perfume cf 
 tuberoses. I never use any other extract. It suits my 
 style so well, and I like to identify myself with one flower 
 to make its essence a part of my individuality. Violets, 
 verbenas, and heliotropes, are well enough in their way, but 
 they are niissish only fit for school-girls. How are you 
 to day ? " 
 
 " I am very far from well," rejoined Kate. " I must ask 
 you to state your errand as briefly as possible. I cannot 
 endure much fatigue." 
 
 " Nor I spare much time ! I am to ride with Mr. Pepper 
 at half-past six. I shall leave town to-morrow to return no 
 more as Miss Lambert. I am to be married in September, 
 from the country house of my brother-in-law, Mr. Smythe. 
 You will receive cards ; and let me assure you, at this early 
 date, that Mr. Pepper and myself will account ourselves 
 higlily honored by your presence on the happy occasion." 
 
 Again Kate bowed, silently. 
 
 Rita opened a white fan, from which fresh waves of he! 
 favorite perfume flowed towards Kate with each sway of 
 the snowy plumes. " I have been very bu:;y all day," pur-
 
 "FOR IJICTTKR, FOB WORSJS." 3i5 
 
 sued the visitor, not hurrying herself in the slightest degiee, 
 41 oo tiling accounts is generally esteemed an unpleasant task, 
 but I quite enjoy it. It is such a comfortable feeling to be 
 fissured that one leaves clean scores behind her everywhere. 
 And that is why I am here. You have a trifling account 
 against me of six months 1 standing. You have been labor- 
 ing under the impression ever since the last night I spent 
 here that I had won your husband from his allegiance to 
 you iu plainer English, that he had been making love to 
 mo. You are mistaken. I did try my hand on him, I con- 
 fess. It is a habit I have. I never see a man who is 
 tolerably attractive, that the desire does not seize me to 
 make him acknowledge my attractions. I enjoy admira- 
 tion. So do all other women, but most of them are 
 ashamed to own it. I tried hard to persuade your hand- 
 some, brilliant husband to find me also handsome and fasci- 
 nating. I amused him, and he rather liked me. Liked to 
 talk and sing with me, and look at me as he did at other 
 go-.".! pictures. I dul not fancy you. I do not like you 
 now, but I mean to set you an example of magnanimity. 
 When I fell to crying on that memorable night, my head 
 somehow dropped against Sydney's shoulder. There was 
 no harm in that. We had known each other for years and 
 years. Maybe he patted it I really forget whether he 
 did or not; but he did not talk love to me, or kiss me. 
 lie was as cold as any great-uncle, until he spied you 
 standing in the libraiy-cloor, and then he flew into a tower- 
 lug rage at me, charging me with having ruined him, calling 
 you an angel, and all such extravagances. This is the 
 linked truth. I ought to have undeceived you then, I sup- 
 pose. I did feel shocked when I heard that he was goiiig 
 oil' in a hurry, to the other side of the globe, for I su.iuiced 
 that ifc was because you wouldn't live with him 0,1'tcr what 
 iuiJ happened. But it costs one'w pride soinetluijg to make
 
 346 
 
 fc confession like this. I am a fool_to do it now ; but Eliza 
 said you were sick and low-spirited, and I thought perhaps 
 my amusing story might enliven you somewhat." 
 
 " You mean that you heard I was a dying woman, and 
 the thought of my ill-will made you uncomfortable," an- 
 swered Kate, in a stronger voice than that in which she had 
 before spoken. " I am glad to find that your conscience is 
 not altogether callous. You are about to marry. I am not 
 surprised that you feared to enter your new estate with 
 this unconfessed sin resting \ipon your soul. I, too, will be 
 candid. Grievous as was your guilt, by your own showing, 
 you did not murder my happiness. If your feeble hand 
 could have crushed it, it would not have been worth the 
 trouble of preserving. Mr. Bentley, long ago, informed me 
 what was the real nature of your connection with him. I 
 am conversant with all the facts of the case. I hope the 
 mutual confidence of Mr. Pepper and yourself will be strong 
 enough to defy the attacks of suspicion and jealousy ; that 
 the efforts of your rivals to dethrone you in his affections 
 will be as ineffectual as yours have proved in this instance." 
 
 She had sat erect in her chair to deliver this reply, and 
 now dragged herself up to her full height, upon Rita's rising 
 to go. 
 
 "I might have spared myself the time and pains spent 
 upon this business, it seems," said her visitor, still saucily, 
 although her rosy cheek had put on a deeper tint, and she 
 bit her lip before speaking. " There is a satisfaction in 
 doing right for right's sake, I have heard good people say. 
 1 suppose this act will be set down to my account some- 
 where. Good-by. Give my love to Sydney when you 
 write." 
 
 The cook came in, as the billows of tuberose odor were 
 rolling down the stairs. 
 
 " 1'oor IV'ggy Mohun is in the kitchen, mum, in great dis-
 
 "FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE." 34? 
 
 tress. Her man has been taken off to jail, and she has 
 come to ask you the what she'll do to get him out." 
 
 Peggy had been Kate's maid in her girlish days ; had fol- 
 lowed her to her new home when she married, and herself 
 . wedded, a year later, a good-looking young rascal of an Irish- 
 ' man, who had kept her in hot water ever since. 
 
 " Say that I can see her for five minutes no more I" 
 replied Kate, desperately. " I am very tired already." 
 
 Peggy carried upon her breast a babe two months old, 
 and behind her came her mother, a respectable-looking body, 
 with another a stout boy of fourteen months, in her arms. 
 Peggy's face was stained with tears, and was further dis- 
 figured by a large bruise upon the left cheek. The mother 
 wore an air of angry discontent. 
 
 " Well, Peggy," began her former mistress, " what is the 
 new trouble?" 
 
 " It's the ould one, mem ! " put in the mother, before the 
 sorrowing wife could open her lips^ and, with characteristic 
 Milesian eloquence, she proceeded to unfold the case. Brian 
 Mohun "bad luck to him!" had been on a "frolic" 
 for a week ; had drunk up every penny he had in the world ; 
 pawned his best clothes and his wifo's besides, and wound 
 up his list of misdemeanors by beating the unoffending 
 Peggy, until her mother's screams not her own 
 brought in a policeman, who trotted off the truculent pater 
 familias to the nearest station. The next morning Peggy 
 was unable to leave her bed, and ignorant of the need of 
 her doing so. The mother slipped out and appeared against 
 her promising son-in-law at the justice's court, and, aided 
 by the policeman and the doctor who had been called in to 
 dress Peggy's wounds, made out so black a case that the 
 prisoner was sentenced to three months' imprisonment in 
 the city jail. 
 
 " Which I never would have give evidence that would
 
 34:8 "FOE BETTER, FOE WOKSE." 
 
 have hurt a hair of his head, Miss Kate ? " interposed the 
 sobbing Peggy. " And I shall take it hard of mother to my 
 dying day that she took advantage of his being overtaken, 
 whin sho knows there niver breathed a kinder man nor he 
 vras when he was himself. Nor was it kind to the poor 
 childher, the innocents ! Their father will be breaking hia 
 heart for the sight of thim for three long months, and whin 
 lie does come out the disgrace will be on him, and the how 
 will he iver hould up his head ag'in he that used to be so 
 proud and bould !" 
 
 " The disgrace is not that he has been to jail, Peggy," 
 said Mrs. Bentley. "It is that he was so wicked and cow- 
 ardly as to lift his hand against you a woman and his 
 wife." 
 
 " It was the liquor, mem ! " pleaded the wife, eagerly. 
 " He wouldn't hurt a iiy, except whin he had taken a glass. 
 He was the best husband in the land ! " 
 
 "Jist to hear her! " said the ojigry mother. " Sorraa bit 
 does he care whether she has a bed under or a blanket over 
 her, so long as he has his tipple ! But for me, mem, she 
 and the bit ones would have starved and froze " 
 
 " Hush, mother, darlint ! : ' prayed Peggy, gently and 
 sorrowfully. "The poor, lad is down now, and it looks 
 mane to be picking up his faults. It's not for the likes of 
 me to stand by and hear them talked of. For he is me hus- 
 band, Miss Kate, and I've promised to be thrue to him 
 thrue till death; and it's like cutting a vein of me heart 
 to go ag'inst him. And the baby is the very moral of him, 
 mem ! " turning the tiny creature towards Mrs. Bentley, with 
 maternal cunning, not doubting but the resemblance that 
 appealed continually to her charity would have its effect 
 upon the lady. 
 
 "I am sorry to seem unkind, Peggy," was the reply. 
 'But I honestly think that your husband has acted very
 
 349 
 
 bad] y, fiud that lie ouglit to bo punished severely. If lie loved 
 you and your children, lie would have conducted himself 
 very differently." 
 
 " Arrals, Miss Kate ! and it's tho sad thoughts I have 
 upon me lonely bed of nights. I niind the many times I've 
 been thried with him and I've a tamper of me own ! and 
 whin he's come in, a bit the worse for dhrink, or jist whin 
 the fit was going off, I've been sore-hearted and impatient, 
 and spake sharp to him. I'm afeared I've dhriv him back 
 to his cups whin I might a-coaxed him away from thim, as 
 'twas my right to do. For it's his wife I am, Miss Kate, 
 and it was yourself put the good word into me mouth whin 
 I tould you I was maning to marry Brian. 'It's a solemn 
 thing, Peggy,' says you. ' It's for life you are taking him. 
 Through evil report and good report,' says you; 'for bet- 
 ter and for worse ! ' Don't thry to turn away me heart 
 from him now that the evil report and the worse has come ! " 
 
 " I will do what I can for you ! " gasped Kate, faintly. 
 " You are a good, brave wife, Peggy ! But please go now. 
 I am feeling very sick and weary ! " 
 
 When the maid, alarmed by the woman's report, hurried 
 up to her mistress' room, she knocked several times without 
 receiving an answer, 'then, undoing the latch softly, she 
 peeped in. Mrs. Bentley knelt before her easy chair, her 
 face hidden upon her arms, sobbing violently, ejaculating 
 brokenly, and, to the girl, unintelligibly. 
 
 " But I think she was praying foj- Mr. Bentley," reported 
 the girl, afterwards, to Mrs. Ixislcy. " She said ' Sydney,' 
 three times over. And in less than half an hour her bell 
 mng, and she told me to send for you and the doctor, for 
 she was cruel sick ! " 
 
 About midnight Mrs. Hisley received her brother's son in 
 hor embrace, and took him out of hearing of the sick-room. 
 111:.;.!! fever and delirium hud set in before Kate recognized 
 SO
 
 350 
 
 tlie existence of her babe by look or caress, and llio danger 
 of supervening convulsions was imminent. Only the hired 
 nurse sat by the bedside where Sydney Bentley's darling was 
 battling for her life. Her moans and cries fell upon dull, 
 unsympathizing ears, except when Mrs. Eisley and Anna 
 crept to the threshold and wept to hear their brother's name 
 repeated in every intonation of love and entreaty. 
 
 On the tenth night she grew more quiet; ceased to toss 
 and mutter, and finally lay still, breathing softly as in 
 slumber. It was near daylight when she unclosed her eyes. 
 The room was in deep shadow, but there was light in the 
 next one, and low voices were audible through the open 
 door. 
 
 " Her life hangs upon a thread ! " said the family physi- 
 cian, mournfully; and a woman answered, " She will not last 
 through the day, in my opinion ! " Then they began to 
 whisper. 
 
 She was then dying ! She had contemplated this event 
 with philosophical coolness, if not sentimental complacency. 
 But by the great terror that fell upon her spirit the horror 
 of loneliness and dread of the judgment to come she 
 knew that she had never understood what death was. She 
 strove to put her hands together; to articulate with her 
 palsied tongue some form of prayer. It was the clutch at a 
 straw of a soul drowning in the ocean of Eternity, that 
 rolled in cold surges higher and higher with each priceless 
 second. 
 
 " Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who tres- 
 2~>ass against us." 
 
 Nothing else came in response to her desperate effort. 
 Still drowning, the past crowded fast and distinctly upon her 
 recollection. Implacable, pitiless in judgment and in con- 
 demnation, she had lived unforgiving, and slio was dying 
 uiilbrgiven. Quick to see and ready to censure her husband's
 
 "FOE BETTER, FOR WORSE." ".">l 
 
 fruiltu, she Lad never striven in love and faithfulness to 
 correct these. Still less had she put them steadfastly out of 
 sight, and, by dwelling upon his gentleness and generosity, 
 his affection for, and forbearance with her, so magnified 
 the lustre of his fine qualities as to lose sight of the spots 
 that disfigured his character. She had been no wife to him 
 but a rigid, unsparing ciitic, whose severity had driven 
 him to avert her displeasure by deception, to seek happiness 
 in other associations than her society. She envied poor 
 Peggy, with her bruised cheek and aching, loyal heart. " It's 
 like cutting a vein in my heart to go against him ! " had 
 pleaded the ill-used wife. And she, petted, pampered, wor- 
 shipped as she, at this late hour, believed that she had been, 
 had banished her husband from home and country perjured 
 herself lost her life and her soul ! 
 
 " As we forgive those who trespass against us ! " 
 
 He would never know that she had forgiven him ; that 
 against her will she had loved him always; that her last 
 thought was made up of longing for him and remorse for the 
 sorrow she had cost him ; useless regrets and vain yearnings 
 for a glimpse of him a word of endearment a silent kiss ! 
 She had chosen to live alone ; to suffer without companion- 
 ship and sympathy. She must die alone ! Still struggling, 
 she was swept out into cold and darkness. 
 
 Tones called her back that might almost have pierced the 
 ear of the dead. 
 
 " Kate ! my precious wife ! " Then a deep sob and an 
 impassioned murmur, " O God ! spare my best beloved ! ' 
 
 The least possible tinge of color warmed the pallid lips 
 and cheeks ; the dark eyes opened slowly upon a manly face 
 bathed in tears. 
 
 " Stand back ! " ordered the doctor. " She knows you ! 
 The shock will be too greut ! " 
 
 " It will do her good ! It has revived her already ! " cried
 
 352 "FOE BETTER, FOR WORSE/' 
 
 Sydney, not offering to rise from his knees, or to withdrav 
 his arm from beneath his wife's pillow. 
 
 Kate smiled, like a weak, happy child, and whispered one 
 Nvord, "Stay!" 
 
 ''Always, darling." 
 
 Sue rallied in the sunshine of his presence with a rapidity 
 that won from those who heard the particulars of her extreme 
 iiluess, extravagant encomiums upon the doctor's skill. He 
 had, it was asserted, snatched Mrs. Bentley from the jaws 
 of death, an achievement made more arduous by the relapse 
 she luicl had at sight of her newly returned husband. Kate 
 knew better than all this, but she could afford to let the 
 world form its own opinion. It was enough for her to 
 believe that she owed her recovery, under Heaven, to the 
 powerful magnetism of the agonizing love that would not let 
 go its hold at the bidding of the grim enemy himself, and 
 that she purposed solemnly and gratefully to devote that 
 restored life, next to that Heaven, to her husband. 
 
 Mru. Risley had written secretly to her brother upon 
 learning that he was ignorant of the especial need that 
 existed for his presence. Within an hour after the receipt 
 of the letter, he was on board ship bound for his native 
 land. 
 
 And they lived together happily ever afterward ? 
 
 I .have not said it. Both had great and stubborn faults, 
 strengthened by years of indulgence, and the eyes of each 
 were fairly open to the existence of these in the other. 
 Love works miracles, but the progress of these improve- 
 ments is slow. Nor is the agent in these transformations the 
 unreasoning, idealistic affection that rarely outlives tlie first 
 half-year of married life. Kate had ceased to adore her 
 handsome husbaitd, but the fulness of humility and gentlest 
 charity that h:ul supplanted -idolatry led her to strive to 
 restore UK; warped lines uf hi-; character to the just perpcr
 
 " FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE." 353 
 
 dicular, win him to complete confidence in her love, and tha 
 certainty of her lenient judgment of his shortcomings; to 
 overlook foibles, and do honor to traits that were in 
 tnemselves good and commendable. 
 
 "He may have been weak. It is certain that I waa 
 wicked. "Who am I that I should judge him?" she had 
 t'i oijuent occasion to say to herself. 
 
 And from the reflection would arise such meekness of 
 spirit, such tenderness of bearing and language as put Syd- 
 ney upon his guard against the besetting sins that might 
 wound this kindest, most loving of monitors. Of the trying 
 initial period to their domestic peace they never speak ; sel- 
 dom remember it, except in their prayers. It is not pleasant 
 to recall a great agony, although it may have been the birth 
 throe of joy as great. "When the wife was strong enough to 
 bear it, they had one long frank conversation upon the sub- 
 ject of their estrangement. 
 
 Once, some months later, Sydney would have renewed the 
 subject, beginning with a self-depreciating remark. 
 
 Kate checked him by a caress, serious and sweet. " That 
 is a sealed book ! " she said. " Forgiveness without forget- 
 fuiuoss is a mockery. " 
 
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 A Xcw Edition. 
 
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 satisfies the public Demand. Without exception, they each have 
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 I. PICKWICK PAPERS AND CATALOGUE. 
 
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 5. DOMBEY AND SON. 
 
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 8. CURIOSITY SHOP AND MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 9. BLEAK HOUSE. 
 10. LITTLE DORRIT. 
 II. MARTIN CHUZZLEWIT. 
 12. OUR MUTUAL FRIEND. 
 13. CHRISTMAS HOOKS. TALE OF TWO CITWS. 
 
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 KECKPTIONS. KNGAOEMENTS. 
 MABBIAUE CKBEMONIKS 
 INVITATIONS. DKKSSES. 
 
 BlUDKSMAIDS. 1'ltr.SENTS. 
 
 TBAVELLINQ ETIQUEITE. 
 PCBLIO PROMENADE. 
 COUNTRY VISITS. CUT Visirs. 
 
 III. Arts of Writing, Reading and Spe:tkiiifr. 
 
 An exceedingly fascinatinp work for teaching not unly the beginner, but fo: 
 perfecting every one in these three most desirable accomplishments. F"r youth 
 Vbif book is both interesting and valuable ; ami for adults, whether professionally 
 or socially, it is a book that they cannot dispense with. ** Price 1.50. Among 
 the contents will be fouud chapters upon 
 
 READING & THINKTKO. LANGUAGE. ! SAT. WHAT NOT TO BAY. How TO 
 WORDS, SENTENCES, <Si CONSTRUCTION, j HKGIS.- CAUTIONS-DELIVERY. -WRIT- 
 
 ING A SPEECH. FIRST LESEONS. PUB 
 tie SPKAKING. DELIVERY.. ACTION. 
 ORATO 
 
 F T 
 
 PTTLPIT. COMVOKI- 
 
 WHAT TO AVOID. LETTKR ' 
 
 PRONUNCIATION. EXPRESSION. TONE 
 
 RELIGIOUS ' READINGS. THE PIBLE. 
 
 PRAYERS DBAMAT.C P.EADiN8s.-Ti 
 
 ACTTOB & READFB. FOUNDATIONS KOH Hr/Mou. Tii^PLATyoBM. CONSTBUO- 
 
 O&ATOBX AND SPEAKING. WHAT TO | TION OF A SPEECH. 
 
 7&JTC vmrktare the moat perfect nf their kiiul ever i>uitU*ke<i ; fvc*h. serjtiMe 
 ynoA-h.um.nrtd. entertaining, and reajahle. Every pf.rnon of tatte houl<l post- 
 ttt cfe^t, tvid cannot bf. otherwise than delighted with them. 
 
 &ff~ A beautiful new minatnre edition of these \ery popular hfv^V. has jwt 
 seen published, entitled "THE DIAMOND EDITION," three little volumes e.c 
 gantly printed on tinted pnner, and handwimely bo-ind in a box. Price $3.(X>. 
 
 *,* Theae books ar* all sent by mail, postage free., on receipt of price, by 
 
 (J. W. CABLETOS &'CO M Polishers, Madison Sa/iare, l?w York.
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 1197* 
 
 Form L9-32m-8,'57(,C8680s4)444
 
 PS 
 
 3007 
 H95 
 1875